#crying silently but not feeling anything so then you wonder why you’re even crying

[tojisun]

sun, i am on my knees begging while typing rn. PLEASEEEEEE HURT DBF!SIMON BACK. he has hurt reader and gotten away with it tooooo many times

im kinda zooted rn but

beg more, sweet thing.

okok but im feeling mean rn and i do want simon to start regretting. i wonder if it’ll take seeing john price treating his girl right for him to snap out of it. imagine if he got blindsided. if simon assumed that you would never look for affection somewhere else, not because you’re unlovable—dear gods, you are the perfect girl—but because what you needed was someone like simon. someone older, someone who provides for you, who spoils you. but simon got complacent. he thought that sprinkles of affection are enough.

but they aren’t, are they? yes, the thrill had been addicting but you’ve gotten too soft. too in love. you’ve forgotten that this should have been temporary, forgotten that simon isn’t one for commitment. you thought you would continue to be trapped in that endless cycle of eating the scraps of simon’s affection; living off of a passion that gets easily snuffed out.

then, john came along. beautiful and rugged and ‘old man’ john. john whose eyes are a storm as they gazed at you; whose hands have never strayed closer, only swiping your hair away or drying the tears staining your cheeks; whose words are short and curt but gentle and soft, and you realized that the timbre of his voice fills you up with want.

john who strapped his helmet on yours and plopped you on the back of his harley before dropping you off at your dorm. john who didn’t ask for anything—not your number, not a chance to climb up with you to your room. he did not even ask if you were going to be alright—john knew you wouldn’t be, and he rather stay silent than ask you to lie to him.

you felt so out of your element as you stood there, trembling, looking at him.

“i-…thank you,” you said.

john said don’t worry about it. said don’t forget to drink lots of water because crying can cause dehydration, and don’t forget to grab a chew because he heard your stomach grumble on the ride home. you don’t tell him that you are starved for something else so you nod and climb upstairs to your room, thinking that was the last you would see john.

but john isn’t the type to let what he loves slip from his grasp so he began to fill your days. he’s always there when simon can’t—doesn’t—come, filling up the hole in your heart one fragment at a time. always there to distract you from the yawning in your chest. always there to listen to you, to watch you, to spoil you.

he smells of ozone and burnt rubber and petrol. he has weary lines on his face and unimaginable exhaustion buried within his irises. he has scars on his palms and his forearms and on his knees. and yet, he is gorgeous to you. so gorgeous.

john’s the one who tells you he loves you first. you don’t say it back. not yet. he understands.

then, simon confronts him. asks what he’s doing with you; why is he driving you around in his harley; why is he picking you up from uni.

why is he putting a wedge between you and simon?

john downs his bourbon and rumbles, “cause i love her.”

and simon fumbles because—

#suns.hc #dbf!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #simon ghost riley #john price #suns #anon #ask #i thought this edible aint shit until i realized i feel too calm and too focused and im glad i got sativa instead

[smiley-babe]

princess of daydreams

knight!megumi x princess!reader

Warning: heavy pining, masturbation, corruption kink, implied virginity loss, implied unprotected sex (pull out method used).

An: this was only supposed to be a drabble ._. got carried away.

minors do not interact/ 18+ only

He’s always been stoic. A true rule follower to his core. He luckily hasn’t had to go out and risk his life for a pointless war that brings nothing but death for months only for the two kingdoms to come to a stupid truce. That’s the one thing he doesn’t see himself doing. Fighting to keep up with a king’s inflated ego. That’s why he was happy to be assigned under the royal guard. But that wasn’t the only reason he was content with his position.

Sapphire orbs drink up layers of ribbon and silks every time he sees you. He hated those huge puffy dresses on you, obscuring him from seeing your true frame. Makes him feel perverted when he thinks any of those thoughts and they’re so often. He sits up straighter every time you pass him. When your eyes meet he feels his throat dry and his hands clam up. Then there’s that sweet smile you always greet him with.

That moment always feels like sunshine beaming on his face. Like the air was sucked from his lungs and he has to take a gulp of fresh air. It gets to him so bad. That smile replays in his daydreams when his mind isn’t occupied with anything else. It’s even worse at night when his imagination really takes over.

Alone in his own chambers, he imagines what you look like in your night clothes or maybe even nothing at all. He feels so ashamed when he becomes aroused from the thought. Megumi always imagines what you would whisper to him if he had you here with him. He wonders if you would be hesitant in the case of keeping your innocence because of your status.

He thinks about corrupting you, convincing you to give him your first time under the idea that he’s helping you, showing you how to please your future husband. And you, so sweet and naive, give it to him willingly so you can be a good future wife.

Megumi shudders thinking about your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, instructing you not to use your teeth. Your mouth would be so warm and he wants to cum in it so bad and tell you to swallow it. He feels sick for thinking about kissing you afterwards.

Then he gets you under him, preps you so sweetly since it’s your first time and you need lubrication. Instead he just wanted to taste you. He thinks about how good you probably taste and how you would squirm from his tongue. He would make sure you finish on his mouth before trying out his fingers. He starts with one and soothes you when you cry, kissing away your tears. He would admire your beauty here and silently wish you were his. Then the second finger. By then you’re moving your hips in tandem with his fingers and you come undone again.

It’s so warm, with your bodies pressed together and nothing but the moonlight illuminating your guys’ features. With a couple sloppy kisses shared Megumi lines himself up with your purity. This is the part of the imagination where Megumi starts to touch himself.

Rough, calloused hands, used to holding a sword, grasps his hard cock. He sighs out, jaw slacking a bit and sapphire eyes closing. He smears the pre dribbling from his slit onto his cock. His hips rock to fuck up into his fist and he moans softly from the slight relief. He knows you would feel so much better wrapped around him.

His imagination runs wild with the thought of finally easing himself into you. He would shush you when you cry out to him that it hurts. “You want to be a noble wife, right? Then we can’t get caught. Quiet my lady.” He gets halfway before pulling out and pushing back in even farther. It starts to get easier for you to take him, your cunt opening up for him with every slight push of his hips.

Your nails dig into his strong forearms as you whine and keen for him. His lips mold with yours to shush you and he changes the position slightly to spread you even more open for him. The back of your knees rest in the crooks of his elbows and the pain returns again as he digs himself deeper into you. He wants to curse aloud and moan out your name so you know what you do to him.

“S- sir it’s deep,” you whisper to him as he keeps his pace slow.

“That’s the point,” he speaks in the dark. “Your husband is going to want to impregnate you the first night of your marriage. He needs to be close to your womb. Therefore this position is very common.” You don’t even question him because Megumi makes you feel safe. He’s supposed to. He’s a knight of the royal guard.

His hand speeds up and a hiss sounds from his lips as he imagines his balls clapping against against your ass every time he thrusts back in. He thinks about how well you would take it despite being a sweet little virgin. And all because you want to please your future husband, whoever he shall be. But in that moment you’re Megumi’s and Megumi’s alone.

You two try to stay quiet but it feels too good. Each other’s names whispered against your lips as you shared sweet kisses. A groan and a curse from Megumi and a shaky moan and whimpers from you. The bed creaks a bit from all the movement and Megumi can feel himself getting close. “I’m almost there,” he moans softly. You pull him in for another kiss, this one a bit messier and needier than the others.

It has him flinging to the edge and it disappoints him that he has to pull out. But he does, stroking his pretty cock over your body, cumming with a low, “fuck”.

He spills into his hand, some of it getting onto his lower abdomen. In his daydream though, he finishes on your bosom that he still wishes he could see with his own eyes.

Here comes the shame that approaches with these nightly thoughts. He shouldn’t be thinking about even doing that to you. But he always wonders if you would take him up on the offer if he ever asked. With a sigh he cleans himself up and takes himself back to bed, absolutely angry at himself for wanting to corrupt the princess.

Meanwhile he doesn’t know that you think of him, the pretty knight that fights with the fierceness of fire, when playing in your pretty cunt. Your nightly routine also included a made up scenario of him accompanying you to his chamber and filling you to the brim. Maybe one day you’ll order him to your room so you can enact your fantasy. But for now you two rely on your imagination to get you through these lonely nights.

______

tags: @luxekeyah @chosovixen @noritopia

#i’m so distraught over him #missing my bf megumi #smiley’s works <3 #megumi x reader #megumi smut #fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro smut #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk smut

[introloves]

toji 🤝 mating press after that trailer has been rotting my mind my entire nervous system GOODBYE

ME TOO, daddy kink + mating press + biting + praise + petnames + raw sex + cream pies + he treats you like a princess when you’re in a mating press + toji is a very condescending person <3

think he puts you in the meanest mating press, the type where all you can do is hold onto his biceps and pray he doesn’t give or let you go (he never does)… the type where you can see your feet dangle helplessly from the crook of his arms- wondering in between the peppered kisses he leaves at your hairline why he’s affectionate, so touchy.

wondering why the weight of his body and every stroke starts a creeping orgasm in the pit of your belly. trying to blink away tears, staring up at him bleary eyed and nearly incoherent.

tethered by only his saccharine words- cooing small praises that make you wanna hide from everyone, pinned by his stare and the press you’re in, waiting for you to call him by that title that makes his eyes own eyes tip back into his head.

“come on angel.” he always whispers, words squeezed out between thrusts that feel like they might shatter your hips.

“say it.” toji murmurs, digging his teeth into the fat of your cheek when you gasp and try to arch up but are reminded at how much you’re unable to move or do anything. the simmering feeling of embarrassment just adding onto the whole thing, painting your body in a burning heat.

“daddy.” you cry, trying to keep your bottom lip from quivering, body reminded that while his inhuman strength and stamina keeps you folded down- it’s at the cost of your own integrity.

“atta girl- there’s my baby, letting daddy take care of you.” toji smiles, a wicked thing- a silent warning before he digs his feet into the bed and grabs at the back of your knees. hiking them up further, not sure he’s even thrusting now- settled to use your own body against you, bouncing your ass off the bed.

“gunna cum pretty for me, yeah? gunna give daddy what he wants? gunna let me cum in that pretty pussy?” words dressed up like questions that have no answer to them, because you will- and he’ll make sure that you do.

watching every twitch of your body, stopping every movement when you finally gasp- seize up tight against him and gush everywhere.

painting the lower half of his tummy in your cum, unable to hear the mean chuckle that rumbles deep in his chest, amused by how quick you listen.

“yeah, that’s a good girl.” he praises, waiting for your wails to quiet down, knowing that he’s not anywhere done- holding onto all the cum he’s saved just for you.

black hair tickling you when he leans back down to bite at your swollen lips- licking the inside of your panting mouth.

“how many more will you give me before it’s my turn, hm angel?” he wonders, once again smiling at the shudder running up your body, already tired.

“d-dunno daddy.” you breathe- waiting for him to choose for you.

#toji #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #smut #drabble #asks #no.name #jjk.txt

[moonstruckme]

hii! I was wondering if you could write something about James meeting reader for the first time when he finds her crying at a party or something? and just takes the time to comfort her and get to know her?

Idk that idea just came to me and I think it’s so sweet and adorable 😭🙏🏼

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: alcohol

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You thought you came in here to be alone, but it’s just like a boy to come and ruin your plans. And just like James Potter to be drawn to the sound of your weeping like a superhero towards sirens. 

“Hello?” You cover your mouth with a hand as the bedroom door creaks open. “Is someone in here?” 

You recognize the voice even robbed of its usual levity, cautiously softened for your benefit. Your stilted breaths continue puffing out of your nose despite your attempts to be quiet, and James’ footsteps come closer. 

“Hey,” he says, crouching in front of you, “you alright?” 

“Mm-hm,” you hum pitchily. Your shoulders shake silently as tears continue gushing out of you. 

James’ forehead creases. “What’s wrong, love?” 

Your bottom lip wobbles at his concern, but you stay strong. “Nothing.” You wipe your cheek with the butt of your palm. “M’fine.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear.” He offers you a smile. The effect, you know, is dizzying when you’re sober, so you’re not too frightened when it works the same now. “Would you like a tissue?” 

You nod, and James reaches for the nightstand behind you. He pulls open the top drawer, one hand protecting your head from bumping into it, and procures a box of tissues. You take it from him, holding it in your lap. 

“How did you know where to find that?” 

“This is my best mate’s room,” he says. “Sirius. I’m James, by the way.” 

You blow your nose. “I know. I know who Sirius is, too.” 

“Yeah?” James grins. You fold the tissue and start wiping under your eyes. It does nothing to erase the mascara tracks already running down to your chin, but James doesn’t think telling you that will help anything. “He’ll be happy to hear that. I know you, too, though I don’t think we’ve had the chance to speak before.” 

“Sorry,” you say, patting the floor beside you for your drink. James subtly moves it beneath the bed. “I’m usually better to be around, I think.” 

“I don’t know,” he replies, “I’m having a good time hanging out with you.” 

You snort. “You must have a low bar.” 

James’ eyebrows raise, surprised mingled with amusement. “Can I ask you something?” 

You’re feeling for your drink again, not having processed its absence. “Um, sure.” 

“How’d you end up in here?” 

Immediately, your doleful mood returns. “Kayla’s mad at me.” 

“Kayla Chapman?” James tries to catch your gaze again as you nod at the floor. “Why’s that, darling?” 

“Sh—she—” Your lip wobbles again. When you don’t take a new tissue yourself James does it for you, pressing it into your hand. “We were together, and she was talking to this guy, and then she just disappeared,” you say while blowing your nose. “And she’d been drinking, so I was worried, you know?” 

You look to James for approval, and he nods. 

“Right, you didn’t want her to get taken advantage of.” 

“Exactly! So I had to look for her forever, I was totally panicking, and when I found her I tried to ask if she was okay and she said—” your voice cracks “—I embarrassed her. She was s—so angry with me.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” James’ hand lands on your shoulder as you hunch over your lap. He rubs it consolingly. “I’m sure she’ll feel differently tomorrow. You were only trying to look out for her.” 

“She won’t,” you cry, having long forgotten your reservations about doing so in front of James Potter. “And she was the only person I knew here, so now I’m all alone.” 

“Well, that’s not true, is it?” He continues rubbing your shoulder steadily, as if comforting drunk girls at parties is something he does every night. It might be, you don’t know. “You know me.” 

You sniffle. “I meant my only friend.” 

“What, you don’t think of us as friends?” James sounds appalled. “I’m wounded, sweetheart. I thought we were getting in some quality bonding here.” 

You miss the humor in his voice completely, looking up at him through still-glossy eyes. “Are we friends?” 

“I’d like to be.” 

“Why?” 

James' expression does something funny. “Do you ask everyone who wants to be your friend that?” You tilt your head, unsure how to answer, but he goes on. “I like you. You try to keep your friends from being assaulted and you’re clearly conscious of your use of paper products—” You follow his gaze as he glances pointedly at the two tissues you’ve been folding to use over and over again “—what other qualities does a person need?” 

Your lips quirk just a little. James’ smile blooms all over again for seeing it. “You’re really nice,” you tell him. “I mean, I knew you were, s’what everyone says, but it’s still good in person.” 

A little laugh sputters out of him, but James doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. 

“I’m tiresome,” you warn him gravely. “You’ll get sick of me.” 

“I know we’ve only just met,” he replies, still smiling in that always-sunny way of his, “but I don’t really see that happening. I’ll be sure to let you know if it does.” He regards you for a moment. Your face is a mostly dried-up watershed of makeup and snot, collecting to a point around your chin, but James is happy to note no fresh tears seem prepared to spill. “Would it make you feel any better if we cleaned your face up a bit?” 

You blink and touch your fingertips to your face, brow scrunching when they come away sooty. “Oh,” you say. “That would be nice.” 

“I’ll be right back.” 

James takes your drink with him, grateful you don’t seem to notice as he dumps what remains in Sirius’ sink and tosses the cup in the bin. When he returns with a washcloth dampened with warm water, you’ve leaned your head against the side of the mattress and are staring into the middle distance. You still look heart-wrenchingly sad. James wonders if your friend is anywhere near as inebriated as you, and whether she realized that by leaving with that guy she was leaving you like this. Whether it was really you who needed to be looking out for her or the other way around. 

“Back.” His voice comes out quieter than he intends, reduced to nearly a whisper at the sight of your pensive state, but your eyes lift to his anyway. You raise your head as one corner of your mouth tilts upwards. It’s a greeting and, in James’ opinion, a decided improvement. 

He squats in front of you, palming one side of your face. “Close your eyes, love.” 

James has always made fun of Sirius for his “angsty towels,” but he sees their true purpose now; your makeup hardly shows on the dark material. He swipes it over your skin gently, extra careful around your eyes. 

“This is really nice of you,” you say. James decides not to let you know you’ve already expressed this sentiment. “This is, like, best friend level of niceness.” 

“Best friend,” he repeats, delighted. “Well, if I’d known I was going for the promotion, I would’ve gone above and beyond. Lavender oils on the washcloth and everything.” 

“Mm, you earned it on your own, though.” 

James grins. Your eyes are closed, but you’re smiling too.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter hurt/comfort #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter scenario #james potter blurb #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #tw alcohol

[yanderenightmare]

JJK ! IMAGINE

Okkotsu Yuta x darling

TW: yandere

He’s silent for the most part – pensive and gentle with you – barely touching you aside from mellow strokes lacking a lasting feel and featherlight kisses that only barely leave your skin wet. 

Everything seems somewhat virginal. Awkward. At a distance…

But you know he watches you when you sleep – and it gives you goosebumps every night. 

He’ll sit in the chair by the window instead of lying next to you, his dour gaze lingering on you and your shape draped in the thin duvet. He’ll listen to your soft snores, and watch you dream – thinking about what he wouldn’t do to keep you like that, safe and sound and perfect – coming up short. 

There’s so much ugliness in the world… he needs to keep you from it.

“Yuta…” You croaked groggily, waking up and squinting at him where he still sat in the dim moonlight. “You’re freakin’ me out…” Twisting in the sheets, you pull them aside to free space on the bed before yawning. “Come to bed already.” 

He sits for another moment and you think he’s gonna stay there like every other night, keeping guard or whatever it is that he’s doing – but then he stands. Taking your invitation silently, lying down on his side of the bed, making the mattress sink – and it’s only then that you regret it, feeling your heart flare with dread, reminded of how he’s a psycho who’s had you trapped in his house for months without telling you why. 

You lie awake in wait of his touch – but it never comes. 

Snores come first.

You roll over again, looking at him – disheveled strands of dark hair splayed on the pillow, tired circles beneath heavy eyes – his face serious even in his sleep. It was strange… he didn’t look like a man capable of hurting anyone. But though he’s never hurt you, aside from keeping you here against your will, you know he’s very capable of violence. You’ve seen the bruises he dregs home, but more than that, you’ve seen the blood drenching his white clothes when he comes home bruise-free.

He doesn’t sit in the chair at all the night after. He comes straight to bed alongside you. And you suppose him lying there doesn’t make much difference for you so long he keeps his hands to himself – which he does until you fall asleep.

It’s sometime later in the night when you awake to the feeling of him brushing cold fingers over the exposed skin of your shoulder, down your upper arm, and further upon your hip.

Your breaths stick in your lungs as he shuffles closer, soon pressed flush against your back – his lips at the shell of your ear. 

He wraps his arm around your midriff and presses himself harder into you, and it’s only then that you realize he’s crying. Stirring against you in suppressed sobs as he buries his face into your hair.

You cringe. Listening to him sniffle as he holds your body snug. Opening your mouth and closing it again, you suck your lip in hesitation before calling his name. “Yuta?”

“I’m sorry for waking you-” He apologizes – and you wonder if you should just stay quiet, maybe he’d settle down and return to his side of the bed soon. But it seemed a little unlikely.

“Why are you crying?” You ask instead. 

“I’m scared…” He says, placing his forehead against the nape of your neck, both arms locked over your stomach and tugging you close for comfort.

You tense at his warmth – never having been so close to him before. Swallowing thickly. “Scared of what?”

His breath shivers against your back where he has his head bowed as his fingers dig into your sides enough to make you release a tiny whimper. “Scared that I won’t be able to protect you.”

You shiver a bit now, scared to move. You’re voice weak. “Protect me from what?”

He lifts his head and places a kiss on your shoulder. Nuzzling against the grove of your neck. “You shouldn’t worry about it.” He dismisses, gently, in a whisper, in that lilt he so often uses with you as though he fears anything louder would rattle you. “It’s my burden.” 

He shifts and scoots himself perfectly behind you, holding you snugly in strong arms.

“Sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yuta okkotsu #yandere yuta #yandere okkotsu yuta #yandere yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuta #jujutsu kaisen yuuta #jujutsu kaisen yuta okkotsu

[arisewanekosuki]

Genshin Impact Self Aware – Your sadness  

They miss you. For past week you have been login into the game only to do commissions and changing Resin into Condensed one (or quickly doing domains or Ley Lines if you already had 5 of them). They hoped that with the new regions of Fontaine you will be playing more, you will take them to get chests, do puzzles, find Oculi and enjoy the scenery like always. But no, you didn’t even unlocked all the new waypoints, only two or three, so they couldn’t help but wonder "Are you getting tired of them?"

They tried to be patient but the more time passed the more they were feeling worried. Till that one day you logged and they could hear you talking to them like sometimes you did before. “Finally we can go check those new places, right?” The team you were using lately was happy, but they couldn’t do anything that would make you aware that they are conscious about you and this ‘world’, so they had to contain their smiles after hearing your voice.

And yet, the more you were looking around with them and fight the enemies the more silent you become again, till you stopped moving them at some point. They wondered if you left for moment to bring food or something to drink but then they heard it. Your muffled sobs “What happened? Why are you crying? Did you get hurt? ” those questions were swarming in their heads and they couldn’t do anything. Through your sobs they could hear “I can’t stop thinking about it” What are you thinking about? If only they could do something for you, comfort you, tell that everything will be alright. But they can’t. No matter how much they love you. They can’t do anything for you.

You took them to a safe place, mumbling that you didn't feel like playing anymore and logged off. They are alone again, knowing that you’re sad.

Maybe it’s really time to try bring you here, where they will be able to protect you and make you smile every day.

#Genshin Impact x Reader #Genshin x Reader #Genshin Impact x You #Genshin Impact Platonic #Genshin Impact Self Aware #Aether x Reader #Lumine x Reader #Venti x Reader #Zhongli x Reader #Ei x Reader #Yae Miko x Reader #Childe x Reader #Albedo x Reader #Scaramouche x Reader #Xiao x Reader #Dainsleif x Reader #Furina x Reader #Neuvilette x Reader #my stuff #my short things

[literaila]

fighting

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi gets in trouble at school

warnings: they are a family (and hate each other)

last part | next part

*

year three.

your mouth is a straight line, and you know both of them are staring at you. 

you're all sitting in the car, three hours before megumi's supposed to get out of school, and it's been quiet for the last ten minutes. 

you don't have anything to say, you think. nothing that will make sense of the mess in your head. 

and satoru's eyes are glaring into your head, burning your skin. you want to shove him and tell him to leave you alone--even though he's not doing anything--but that seems hypocritical. 

especially considering that megumi is suspended for the rest of the week. 

“okay,” satoru says, after his eyes have basically glazed over from focusing on you for too long. “megumi, can you say something? i think her head's about to explode.” 

“i'm fine,” you hiss. and then you glance at megumi in the rearview mirror and feel a little bad. 

he looks smaller than usual. his eyes are shifting from you to satoru, and his mouth is open like he wants to say something but isn't sure what. and, of course, he's scrunched himself up, almost a ball right behind you. 

you don't want to be frustrated with him, but it seems inevitable. he's just a kid, you try to think, but it doesn't work. when you were a kid you didn't-- 

so yeah, you feel bad for him. not that bad though. you know he knows what you’re going to say. 

megumi sighs (but it sounds more reminiscent of one of satoru’s many whines). “i’m… sorry.” 

he might as well be telling you that he cut out your heart, and blew up a church with how dreary his voice is. 

satoru grins. “there. we’re cool now.” he reaches back and ruffles megumi’s hair. his arms are too long for anything in the world. he's basically an arachnoid. “y/n…” he hums. “you can stop frowning now. he apologized.” 

you glance over at him, unimpressed. satoru will brush this away like everything else. 

even though you know he cares--and doesn't want you to be mad, or megumi to feel guilty. 

his stupid smile almost makes you break, but you look away. 

“sorry for what megumi?” you ask, softly, trying to ignore your stupid roommate. he’s been downgraded. 

“…hitting those kids.” 

“are you actually sorry?” you clarify, even though you know the answer. 

he’s silent. 

you can see out of your peripheral when satoru gives him a nasty look. mouthing something to him. 

at least you know where megumi gets this from. his protectiveness is not unique to you, but at least satoru does it jokingly. at least he only destroys the already destroyed. 

maybe you're thinking too hard about this. 

you sigh, this time, rubbing your eyes with one hand. “look, megumi, we can talk about it later.” 

you could use a break from both of them. a couple of minutes to yourself to... probably cry in your bed and wonder why the world is so terrible. 

“um, no we can’t.” satoru says. “i’m going to be gone later. i told you about my—“ 

you pinch his thigh over the gearshift. “we’ll talk without you.” 

he gasps. “excuse you,” he says, “but i am a part of this conversation.” 

“yes, i think you’ve done plenty to contribute to this, gojo.” 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

you try to smile at him, but it feels more like a grimace. “just that you’re the one sparing with megumi on the weekends.” 

satoru frowns. “we’re practicing. you want him to be as weak as every other shikigami user in the world?” he asks, rhetorically. 

“i like sparring,” megumi interjects, like it matters. 

“maybe a little too much,” you say, under your breath. 

satoru grabs your hand from his leg, intertwining his fingers with yours. it would be sweet--a nice connection--if you weren't actively trying to hurt him. 

maybe megumi gets it from both of you. 

“okay, megumi,” satoru sings. “you can’t hit your classmates, okay? look i fixed it.” 

you glare at him. then turn into your driveway. 

satoru groans. “why are you both so difficult? megumi, just apologize, and y/n, he made a mistake. he’s not gonna do it again.” 

“i’m not talking about this right now,” you tell him, shaking your hand from his, wanting not to be mad at either of them.

but you’re mad at both. they both suck and you love them too much to even yell. 

“i’m difficult?” megumi retorts. 

satoru groans again and you all get out of the car. 

“go get started on your homework,” you tell megumi, after you unlock the door. “we can talk in a bit.” 

your voice is naturally softer with him. megumi’s too cute to stay angry at. 

satoru doesn’t have that issue. 

megumi looks back at you, his eyes inquisitive, his mouth pinched. “you’re mad at me?” 

you sigh, hanging the keys on the hook. “no, megs. it’s fine. we just need to talk about it. later. 

“you’re mad,” he repeats, all-knowing. seriously, who allowed satoru to raise him? 

“i… maybe a little. not really at you. just the situation.” 

“i’m sorry.” 

you shake your head, hand on your back as you gently nudge him down the hall. “just go hang out for a bit. relax.”

you try not to notice how he rubs his fists, tiny bruises forming on his tiny knuckles.

satoru walks in behind you, bumping into you purposefully. “start writing your opening statement,” he adds, grinning at you both. 

you push him away and megumi rolls his eyes. 

you walk into the kitchen, thinking about moving megumi to a new school—a new family. they’ll probably do better than you’re doing. at least there he won't have one parent who actively eggs him into violence every day. 

you know satoru is following you (because when isn’t he?) but you don’t expect a hand tapping on your arm, and wary blue eyes meeting yours. 

dark blue eyes. 

“can we talk now?” megumi asks, his voice softer than usual. you can tell he feels bad, but you know that it’s only because you’re upset. 

and it’s not even him. you just wish that he had a better response to these things. that he didn’t feel like fixing everything was his responsibility.

you’re not sure where you went wrong, but you know that it was somewhere. 

“megumi… i just need to think for a bit. i’m really not mad.” this time you actually smile at him, because even if he’s beating kids up in school, he’s so sweet to all of you. so cautious.

(except for satoru, but he deserves it). 

“i’m really sorry. i didn’t mean to get in trouble.” 

satoru snorts from behind you. he’s leaning against the wall, watching. 

lord knows he wouldn’t be any help—even if he actually was contributing to the conversation. 

you swallow, because you really don't want to tell megumi anything. not without running it through satoru first, at least. without considering the consequences. 

but he looks very worried, and you don't want to leave him to obsess over this by himself. 

“i just don’t understand why…” you shake your head. you’re not going to make any sense of a nine-year-old mind. “you can’t hit people because you’re upset. you know that.” 

“they were messing with a girl in class,” he says, frowning. then he looks to satoru, his head tilted. “i thought that’s what you told me? i’m stronger, i can help.”

“uh….” satoru scratches the back of his neck, wincing. he's lucky that he's several feet away from you. 

you turn. “what?” 

“i—“ he holds his hands up in defense immediately. “i may or may not have mentioned that we, as in all of us, we’re meant to be upstanders, you know. not—“ he clears his throat. clasps his hands together. “bystanders.” 

“satoru.” you groan, leaning against the counter. at least it's all coming together. 

you need to bug him or something, just to monitor everything he says 

satoru continues. “but i meant in public! with curses. not—not children,” he glares at megumi. 

probably for ratting him out. 

“but you said that if someone was in trouble—“ 

“can you stop talking?” satoru says to him, shaking his head, lips pouting pathetically. “i didn’t raise a snitch.” 

you furrow your brows and megumi crosses his arms. 

“satoru, you told him to fight people?” 

he winces again, adjusting his glasses. “i meant… bad people.” 

“they were bad,” megumi reassures you both because it obviously matters. “they tried to steal her backpack. that’s bad.” 

you sigh, shaking your head. 

you can't believe that you're still standing here, still contemplating what to say to him. 

where did it all go wrong? 

“was the backpack cool?” satoru wonders, going to stand right next to you, hand slinging around your shoulder. he ignores it when you try to push him off. 

he's probably just trying to be annoying. 

megumi frowns. “i don’t know, i didn’t ask her to—“ 

“stop talking, both of you.” 

you ponder running away from all of them and starting a new life. rome is supposed to be nice this time of year, and you’ve been saving up… 

but you’d feel bad for leaving tsumiki with the two of them. plus, satoru doesn’t know how to fill out his tax return. 

“we’re talking,” satoru says, raising a brow at you. “you like that.” he grins at you like he’s solved world hunger or something. 

with his stupid face and stupid mouth. you would move to rome just so you never had to look at him again and feel briefly distracted. 

“i need a minute to think.” 

the two boys share a look. how you’ve survived three years with them is questionable. 

finally, you sigh again, rubbing your temple. “megumi, you know you can’t hit people. why didn’t you get a teacher? violence is never an option.” 

satoru frowns. “what about—“ 

“in the real world,” you correct, glaring at him. “violence is not an option. don’t put your hands on other people. talk to someone.”

megumi kicks his foot against the hardwood. “i didn’t think they’d listen.” 

you nudge his chin, getting him to look at you. “then you tell one of us. preferably not satoru. i know—i understand that you want to help, but hurting someone just to protect someone else isn’t any better than bullying, okay?” 

“yeah, don’t bully your bullies," satoru waves a finger at him. 

you roll your eyes, and megumi looks disheartened—annoyed maybe—but nods eventually. 

not that you expect him to agree immediately anyway. megumi has never been fond of talking. even with all of you, he'd rather hug you than ask how your day is. 

and it's fine, usually. you don't want to push him. 

you also don't want to have to bail him out of jail. 

“okay. good. if this ever happens again i'm homeschooling you.” 

megumi doesn’t seem to mind this, shrugging at the threat.

you pause, then say, “actually, satoru is homeschooling you.” 

the boy frowns. 

satoru nudges your side, giving you a skeptical look. “no punishment? he’s just free to go? last time i tried to—“ 

“you were trying to put megumi in a headlock.” 

“he was eating the last mochi! he knew i was saving it.” 

you scowl at him. “it’s not even his fault,” you say, looking pointedly at him. then you brighten. “and he has to deal with you every day, that’s punishment enough.” 

satoru opens his mouth, holding a hand in the air. then he closes it. 

you turn around to see megumi smirking at him. 

you roll your eyes. “what do you want to tell tsumiki?”

you'll have to pick her up in an hour or two, and she's going to ask questions. plus, megumi's scratched-up hands are not very discreet. 

megumi’s face falls. “um—“ 

satoru starts laughing beside you, body shaking against yours, and you feel like there’s about to be another fight. 

but at least you’re not upset anymore. 

megumi says something to satoru--like shut up--but you're not really listening anymore. just looking between the two like they aren't the most important, special things in the world to you. 

whatever happens, you think, is satoru's fault. 

*

next part | series masterlist

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojō x reader #satoru gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #a typical family

[intrepidacious]

almost believing

summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.

a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!

masterlist | read on ao3

Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.

After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.

Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.

You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.

"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.

But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.

Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.

Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.

"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.

"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.

For like a week.

"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.

"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."

"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.

"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.

"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.

"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.

Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …

Clearly, you were wrong.

Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.

He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.

The mission call feels like your last chance.

A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.

That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.

"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.

"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"

Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.

You purse your lips and join the staring.

Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."

"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"

"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.

"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.

Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.

"I’ll see you later."

You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.

For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.

Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.

Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.

Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".

It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.

That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.

You need to change your lockscreen.

***

Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.

Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.

"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."

He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."

"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"

Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."

Of course he’s going to be fine.

You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."

"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?

For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.

"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"

There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.

"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.

"I’ve got something for you."

You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.

Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.

"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.

"Try it on, then."

It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.

Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.

"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."

He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.

This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.

"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.

"Mhm."

Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.

You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.

"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.

"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.

You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.

"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."

"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."

You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.

Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.

***

"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."

"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."

"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.

You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.

This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.

Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.

"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.

You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.

Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."

The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.

"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."

You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.

When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.

Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.

When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?

But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.

So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?

***

You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.

It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.

But damn if he’s not good at it.

It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.

Hearts are often stupid like that.

A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.

You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"

"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.

Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.

It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.

Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.

That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.

"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.

"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."

He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."

You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.

It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.

"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.

"Maybe a little," you say.

The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.

It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.

He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."

You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.

"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"

"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."

"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"

Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.

"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"

"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."

"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."

You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"

You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.

For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.

"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"

"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.

"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."

You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.

He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.

Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.

"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."

There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.

"Dance with me?"

You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.

You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.

"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."

"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.

Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.

You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.

"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.

"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."

With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."

The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.

You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.

Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.

"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.

You’d almost forgotten about the mission.

"Val is here," you say quietly.

His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"

"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."

"Why didn’t you say something?"

"I … There wasn’t time."

"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."

You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.

The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.

Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.

You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.

He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."

"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.

"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."

"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.

"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."

The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.

You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.

You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.

Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.

He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.

You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.

"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.

Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.

You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.

In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.

"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."

Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.

"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."

You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."

***

Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.

Your lips are still tingling with it.

Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.

"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.

Your defenses shoot up again.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.

"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."

"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.

"Doesn’t make it right."

"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."

"Y/N—"

"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."

"You know why I’m leaving."

"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."

He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."

"Don’t remember what?!"

"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."

The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.

You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.

"You should talk to him. Be honest."

"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."

"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"

"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"

"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."

"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.

"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."

"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."

"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"

"Love?"

"I mean, obviously?!"

"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.

"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"

"I thought you hated me."

You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"

"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."

It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"

Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"

"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.

His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.

"I don’t understand," you whisper.

"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."

This time, you’re the one to lean in.

Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.

You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.

The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."

You break up with a snort.

"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.

You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."

"Of what?"

"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."

Bucky groans and shuts you up again.

(A few years later, you get the ring back.)

happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

#sweet as sugar challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #almost believing

[emmyrosee]

“Stop tossing and turning, it’s four in the morning.”

Bakugou was blunt. Though unsurprising to those who knew him, it always would come as a surprise when he’d be so quick when it came to you.

Never in a malicious way; always just sharp.

But tonight, it hurt different. You didn’t snap back, or try to press a threat to sleep on the couch, instead, his bluntness only tacked on to the pounding in your head, using it as ammunition against you, and he didn’t even know it.

“Sorry,” you mumble, bottom lip wobbling.

He groans at the idea that he hurt your feelings, he’s not used to you not snapping back, and turns on his back- he never could sleep on his back, and it warmed your heart to know he was sacrificing a few more hours of much deserved sleep to comfort you.

“Talk,” he demands softly, opening an arm for you to curl into. When you do slip into his side, immediately tears swell your waterline and sting in a command to be released down your scorched, frustrated cheeks.

“I’m just… I’m so exhausted, Katsuki,” you whimper. You’re waiting for him to take it literally, but he doesn’t, and he stays silent in case you wish to keep going. “I put so much effort into everything I do, and it gets shit on; i get walked all over every. Damn. Day. I don’t want to try anymore, I don’t care to. Not like anything matters anyway, so why would I bother?”

Once again, he’s silent in case you want to continue. Hell, you’re almost convinced he’s fallen asleep until he lets out a soft sigh.

“You’re doing fine,” he mumbles, his calloused fingertips gently rubbing the tense muscles at the nape of your neck. “You’re doing your best, and even if you don’t see it, you take full pride in the things you do. Because that’s who you are, it’s one of the things that made me fall in love with you. You give, and give, and you don’t ask for anything in return, then you get in a headspace like this and wonder if it’s worth it.

“But baby,” he yawns, “it is worth it. Especially to you. And you’re not going to stop putting your all in the things you do, you know that. But there’s nothing wrong with wanting recognition. You deserve it.”

Tears swell in your waterline and you quickly bury your face into his side, tears soaking his shirt. “I’m always proud of you. You’re selfless, and as much as I adore that part of you, I wish you weren’t. Because it keeps both of us up at four in the morning and makes my shirt wet with tears.”

With a choked laugh, you shove him softly as he gives you a chuckle, but his words only have you crying more; he’s a man of few words but behind the blunt ones, the loving ones he picks are genuine, and you wouldn’t trade him, or the reassurances he gives you, for the world.

“I want to be better, Katsuki,” you wail. “I don’t want to be so tired anymore.”

“You’re already the best that you can be,” he assures, kissing you’re head.

“And that’s plenty. I promise you.”

#indeed written at 4:43 in the morning #this is a comfort piece so idk how the numbers will do but hey #here it is lol #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader fluff #bakugou katsuki x gn!reader #bakugou katsuki x reader comfort #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki bnha #bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #bakugou x gn!reader #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader comfort #bakugou bnha #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha imagine #bnha comfort #bnha x reader #bnha x gn!reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha x you #bnha x yn #bnha x y/n #hurt/comfort

[r0ttenhearts]

inconvenience

alhaitham x reader

sypnosis: after alhaitham fails to show up for your birthday “party” things seem to go worse between you as well as your best friend kaveh

warnings: angst, no comfort, arguments

the clock chiming felt taunting with every minute that passed. every minute that passed with alhaitham nowhere in sight. every minute that got closer to midnight. a gentle sigh left your lips, the thickly frosted cake sat in front of you untouched. you were sure if you had lit the candles they would have been nothing but melted wax by now.

you weren’t sure why you wanted to believe things would be different tonight. with alhaitham’s busy schedule it made moments between you two scarce and few. only speaking for a few minutes in the morning, knowing he’d be gone all day. you didn’t blame him for it, no. how could you? he was busy doing his job as a scribe! piling onto his already busy schedule felt nauseating. but you trusted his promise he made to you only two weeks prior. a promise to come home early on your birthday, to celebrate together.

it felt so long ago now. the clock reading 11:46 and he still wasn’t home. the sound of the door opening perked you up, a wide smile on your face as you got up, ready to greet alhaitham.

“haitham! i- oh.”

the blonde haired architect smiled softly at you, your shoulders slumping. “hey kaveh, why’re you home so late?” you spoke softly as he came inside.

“i just got caught up with things, figured i’d rather finish them here.. where’s alhaitham? i thought you two would be together right about now?”

you shook your head softly, “i guess he got caught up with things as well.”

kaveh studied your face for a moment before smiling sadly, “happy birthday (y/n).” you whispered a quiet thank you as he walked to his room, the door shutting gently behind him.

a silent storm brewed in your mind and you couldn’t help but feel so defeated. your boyfriend of four years couldn’t bother to show up for your birthday? did he really think his work mattered more than you?

you remembered every time you passed up something with your friends or an event you had wanted to go to, just for alhaitham. considering his feelings and knowing he didn’t like those things. only wanting to spend time together even if it meant missing out on things you also deemed as important.

always taking his feelings and thoughts on certain things, but he couldn’t even come home for your birthday? your sigh was much more aggravated than it was before, your patience as thin as paper.

just as you were about to put the cake away the door opened, the clock reading 12:24. no words were said as you closed the fridge door, making your way past alhaitham before he stopped you. a firm hand on your shoulder.

“what, alhaitham? it’s late, i’m going to bed.” you attempted to shrug his hand off but he held his grip. “you’re angry, why are you upset with me?” alhaitham spoke cooly and composed.

you scoffed loudly, angry tears were trying to escape your eyes but you wouldn’t let them. you wouldn’t cry over him.

“oh, i wonder! i really do, alhaitham. maybe because it’s my birthday and you didn’t bother to show up? just a reminder since you seemed to have forgotten, or do you just not care? i don’t think i want to know the answer.” you spat out like poison. a look of annoyance crossed alhaitham’s face.

“are you serious? you’re behaving like a child over your birthday? i was busy with my work, you know this. don’t go pouting now because i forgot one meaningless day.”

he didn’t care. he didn’t care how much this meant to you, even after telling him stories of how you always went out of your way for others. only to be disappointed in return. the one day of the year you wanted to feel like you mattered, and he didn’t care. he was more bothered with you being upset than anything.

“you can’t be serious alhaitham. you promised me!”

“then i suppose that promise didn’t mean much as i don’t recall ever making one.”

any argument you had in your mind now died. he wouldn’t care for any reason to justify your anger, he had made up his mind. and he wasn’t sorry for any of it.

you didn’t say anything as his hand left your shoulder, walking past you to the kitchen for a late night sandwich. you quietly made your way to kaveh’s room, shutting the door as quietly as you could behind you. kaveh spun around in his chair, a look of confusion on his face.

“kaveh.. alhaitham didn’t care! he just didn’t care at all. i waited all night, you know? i waited and waited and blew off invitations to spend my birthday with dehya and the girls and he just.. just didn’t care! he called me a child and i-“

“(Y/N)!”

your emotional rambling stopped at the yell of your name. kaveh held the same expression alhaitham had when he looked at you not too long ago.

“you are being an inconvenience right now, i have so much to do and i can’t deal with this right now. we can talk about it later but i’m busy right now. so please, get out of my room.”

you didn’t say anything as you left his room. alhaitham scoffing as you two saw each other before he made his way to his own room. the door shutting behind him.

you had never felt so unwelcome in a place you had grown to love and call home. but if you weren’t wanted, you knew better than to stay. to fight for a place that wasn’t yours. with that, you quietly slipped away into the night. texts and calls being missed from the both of them as you made a new life outside of them.

taglist: @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @aqualesha @linkookie197 @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @reblog-crazily @sparklylanddetective @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @maxineslair @kenmabfasf @samarill @whorerificstuff

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham angst #alhaitham #al haitam x reader #al haithem

[meowzfordayz]

hashira find out that you self harm

Author’s Note: as always, pls heed CW (content warnings). These were not written purely for comfort, but also w/ ~realistic reactions in mind, so while they def lean toward comfort, there’s a certain lvl of inherent discomfort and pain in them as well. 🖤

hashira find out that you self harm

Hashira x Reader

Word Count: ~1,900

CW: depression, explicit language, implied self harm, traumatic references

Emergency Request Fulfilled: Can I request kny x reader, (sanemi, michikatsu, genya, giyu, & rengoku)

of an s/o who sh & feels very s*icidal

tough times yk?

Emergency Request Fulfilled: A request, idk if this is gonna seem insensitive, but could you write the hashiras reactions if they found out the reader sh? I have been struggling with these things lately and would like to see something like that, but if you feel uncomfortable with it then you don't have to do this.

Emergency Request Fulfilled: I ended up breaking my streak of not sh-ing last night and I feel awful again. I was wondering if you could do a rengoku x Reader with that kind of subject material as a sort of pick me up. Sorry for bothering you like this it’s just I feel not so good rn and you’re someone who provides me comfort with your writing

kamaboko find out that you self harm

~faqs~

When they find out that you self harm…

… Gyomei doesn’t know what to say. His immediate reaction is to feel incredibly protective, but his gut tells him overreacting could push you even further away. “Oh.” A single word exhaled quietly from his mouth, and you feel yourself unraveling. “I-” Quickly, he collects himself. “Don’t apologize to me,” he asserts gently, “Thank you for telling me.” “You aren’t mad?” you ask shakily. “I’m confused,” he answers softly, “I want to protect you, but I’m unfamiliar with protecting someone from themselves.” Your heart twinges at his admittance as his arms wrap steadily around you, his palms pressed clammy and flat against your back, his embrace soothing even as his frown deepens.

… Obanai is furious. With himself, of course. A silent, dreadful anger that sticks to his spine, no matter how much he twists, turns, and talks with himself. He throws himself into research, a whirlwind of educating himself as best and as quickly as possible, all the while maintaining a light hearted, gentle facade whenever you’re beside him. “Are you okay?” you’ll ask sometimes, his sporadic urgency noticeable, “Something bothering you?” And he knows confessing his frustration won’t solve anything; guilting you or making you regret sharing yourself with him is the last thing he wants. So he shrugs, shooting you a lazy, intimate smile, suddenly grateful for how he can make his eyes twinkle above his mask, truthful grimace covered, “Just missing you.” “But I’m right here!” you exclaim, nudging him happily. “I know,” he mutters softly I know.

… Mitsuri cries. She doesn’t mean to. She doesn’t mean to make you comfort her. She doesn’t mean to make you apologize over and over until you’re both bawling, clinging to each other as though squeezing tightly enough might make your truth dissipate. But she does. She cries in your arms as you cry in hers, disbelief and sorrow rippling through her body. “I-I’m s-sorry,” you repeat, voice strained, unable to catch your breath as you gasp between sobs. “M-me t-too,” she whimpers lowly Me too. She’ll put herself back together later, determination to love you as hard and as fiercely as ever gradually overcoming her initial shock and dismay, even as part of her heart remains forever changed — forever afraid of losing you… to yourself.

… Shinobu struggles to maintain a boundary between being your partner and being your therapist. She’s not professionally trained in psychiatry, but she’s obviously knowledgeable when it comes to physical healing, sooo why not mental healing? That’s not how it works she often has to silently remind herself, seconds away from responding to your spiraling as though you’re in a therapy session together. Deep down, she knows all she can do is be there for you as she is. Not as she wishes she could be. Not as she feels she should be. But as she is. Am I enough? she wonders as she listens to your labored breathing, feeling you twitch beside her in your sleep I sure hope so she sighs, pressing light fingers to your overheated cheek, smiling faintly as your breaths gradually slow I really hope so.

… Kyojuro is distraught, but does his best to conceal it. For your sake. His sake. He isn’t really sure, actually. All he knows is he’s watching you fall to pieces in slow motion, and somehow, he still isn’t quite fast enough to catch all of you. Some days are easier than others. Those other days? He can barely bring himself to touch you.

“Kyo,” you sigh, fixing an even stare on his unnervingly neutral gaze, sorely missing his usual eagerness, “What’s going on?”

He promptly brightens, stepping forward to press a light kiss on your forehead, “Nothing is going on.”

Then why won’t you comfort me?

Wordlessly, you slip your arms around his waist, relieved when he accepts your embrace, confused that, “Then why don’t you hold me anymore?”

He frowns at that, head tilting, “I am holding you right now.”

With a snort, you mutter quietly, “No, Kyo, I’m holding you. It’s like you suddenly need my permission to-” interrupting yourself as realization hits, “Kyo.”

He blinks, feeling thoroughly ~caught, yet unsure what act you’ve caught him in.

“Yes, my love?”

“You don’t have to be scared of me!” you exclaim, bittersweet laughter rumbling in your chest, “I know I…” trailing off awkwardly, “I know I’m not okay, and I know you worry, but keeping yourself from me doesn’t help, solve, or ease, well, anything!”

“Are you certain?” he murmurs, dreadful despair leaking into his gut again, “I… do not know how to navigate this.”

Squeezing his hips, you glare fondly at him, “I know I’m not okay, and I know it pains you to hear me say that. I also know it pains both of us when you distance yourself. You don’t have to let me go. You aren’t the problem.”

But he nearly exclaims But I can’t save you!

“I don’t need saving,” you whisper instead, reading his perceived failure in the tremor of his fingers tracing up and down your spine, “I just want you to love me.”

I do he swallows thickly I love you so much.

… Sanemi leaves midway through your quiet, shaky explanation, fingernails nearly breaking the skin of his palms, mouth a thin line, lavender eyes too narrowed to discern the pain pulsing through his glare. You listen to the front door open, expecting a resounding bam, mystified when a nearly silent push of air signals his departure. Shit. You know then that he isn’t pissed. At least, he isn’t pissed at you. Which, really, would be easier to handle than the slow dripping tears glistening on his cheeks, clinging to his eyelashes; would be easier to handle than reading the single text he sends you I love you, don’t wait up; would be easier to handle than waking to the feel of him tracing hearts across your skin, bed warmer with his body, mattress dipping you toward him. “I’m sorry I left,” he whispers, somehow knowing you’re awake before you’ve even fully processed consciousness yourself, “I won’t do it again.” You mumble something incoherent in response, catching his hand with yours, pressing a sleepy kiss to his knuckles. “Fuck,” he hisses sharply, sob lodged in his throat, “You’re everything to me,” lifting your knuckles to his lips, returning your gesture Everything.

… Muichiro doesn’t understand why, but he does notice its consequences. He notices the tiredness glinting in your eyes, even though you’ve just woken up. He notices the slowness in your movements, even as you’re expressing excitement. He notices the harshness of your voice when you’re having a particularly difficult day, though he doesn’t understand why it’s particularly difficult. He voices his disconnect, curled up beside you on the couch, hands wrapped coolly around yours, apologetic and upfront. “I can tell when you’re in pain,” he says gently, “But I don’t understand the desire to then create more pain.” Shaking his head as you open your mouth to explain, he smiles softly, “I know it hurts to try and help me understand, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” brow furrowing as he sighs quietly, “That’s just it, I guess. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I don’t understand.” You know he means well, you know he isn’t upset, but it doesn’t get easier listening to him navigate your pain. “I love you,” you offer, leaning over to peck his cheek. He sighs again, soaking in your warmth, unable to identify the tight numbness in his chest, “And I love you.”

… Giyuu nods, thoughts racing even as silence settles between your anxious stare and his unblinking expression.

“Giyuu?” you tentatively prompt him, “This… this wasn’t easy for… for me to tell you.” 

Like an unpaused movie, he blinks into action, reaching for your waist even as he watches for the slightest hint of discomfort from you, ready to divert his movement if need be. You crumble into his touch, leaning heavy and exhausted against his chest, melting into the smooth reassurance of his hands splayed across your lower back.

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, eyes closed, “Thank you for trusting me,” resisting the urge to pull away, cup your face, and press his forehead firmly to yours, involuntary tears pricking the corners of his eyes, “Thank you for…” his voice fades, knowing he’d crumble en suite if he continued, desperate to remain steady for your wavering breaths.

“For what?” you choke out, “Giyuu.”

Thank you for staying he thinks somberly Thank you for loving me.

“Thank you for choosing me,” he finally whispers, “And thank you for letting me choose you.”

You laugh roughly, sound mangled in his shirt, “I’m a mess.”

He doesn’t deny your statement, instead pulling you closer, his heartbeat loud and promising, tears falling freely now. And that’s okay he wishes he could say Two messes are better than one he wishes he could quip How do I fix this? his fear stutters on repeat What do I do? underlying his tenderness, knowing all too well that he has only questions, and no way of answering them.

… Tengen takes it unexpectedly well. He listens patiently, nods at appropriate moments, and gently interjects with the occasional question, all the while kneading your thighs as you sit on his lap, watching you with a careful, encouraging warmth.

“You’re amazing,” he declares softly, “Not to belittle your pain, of course,” sadness simmering just below his faint smile, “But I want you to know that, after everything you’ve told me, my first thought is how incredible you are.”

You shrug, unsure how to accept his compliments, stripped bare as you glance downward, eyes closing.

“Hey,” he murmurs, familiar hand cupping your chin, “I know I can’t make you believe anything I say,” bittersweet sigh grazing your skin, “But I can at least share my own beliefs. I can at least share my own perception of you. I can love you.”

Your nose scrunches, eyes opening to meet his honest stare, swallowing your breath with a shudder.

“I’m here. Whatever you want to tell me, whatever I need to know,” voice thickening, “I’m not going anywhere. If you need me to be firm, I can be firm. If you need me to be quiet, I can bite my tongue. I’m your lover, your partner, and a resource.”

So let me fulfill all of those roles for you. Let me love you. Let me walk beside you. Let me taste your burdens as you’ve stomached mine.

“You don’t have to be responsible for me,” you chuckle weakly, attempting to ease the tension, “I don’t tell you things to make you carry them for me.”

“But I would,” he speaks steadily, “I know you wouldn’t ever ask me to,” maroon gaze dark, “But I would.”

He doesn’t mean to be overbearing, but he doesn’t know how else to convey the fragility in his heart; its overwhelming swell of aching and anger — the stark hopelessness of knowing he can only watch. Of knowing he can only listen. Of knowing he can only handle as much as you’re willing to give him.

#preferences #modern au #himejima gyomei #gyomei x reader #iguro obanai #obanai x reader #kanroji mitsuri #mitsuri x reader #kocho shinobu #shinobu x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #tokito muichiro #muichiro x reader #tomioka giyuu #giyuu x reader #uzui tengen #tengen x reader

[littledemondani]

Hello first time here at your page

I am a sucker for revenge, so how about we give to Fuckboy Eddie a good taste of his own medicine, i want to make this bitch cry a little

Does this makes me evil ?

warnings: 18+ mdni, brief alcohol use, mentions of public sex, fuckboy!eddie, fem!reader, no use of y/n, possessiveness, slight angst, fwb to lovers

it’s not evil at all! he deserves to cry.

//

you’ve teased him about it relentlessly for weeks now. every time you bring up your coworker, josh, and how he’s the only reason you’re able to get through the agonizing 8 hours of work at your current workplace, eddie’s brows pinch and his tone gets snappy.

“awww, you’re jealous,” you’d say, looking at him with a slight pout.

“not even close, sweetheart,” he’d always reply back, shaking his head.

“whatever you say, munson.”

he’d then roll his eyes and look anywhere else but at you.

tonight, though, tonight he realizes he’s been full of shit the entire time.

the two of you are at a bar in downtown indianapolis, the same bar you met him at a little over a year ago, and you’re currently dancing with some dude.

eddie watches as you sway your hips to the beat of whatever hit pop song is blaring through the speakers. mystery guy trails his left hand down your front and over your abdomen. you make no efforts to stop him as he inches closer to your cunt. he leans down and whispers something in your ear, you nod along, then he takes your hand and leads you towards the back of the bar where the restrooms are.

eddie feels nothing but rage. he tells himself he should go after you, because he knows exactly where you’re headed and what you’re off to do. he’s done that same move more times than he can count, not just with you, but other girls, too. hell, he did it a few days ago after one of his gigs. but he knows deep down he can’t go barging into the restroom and beat that guy’s ass. the two of you aren’t dating. you’re not even exclusive to each other. he’d be going back on the conditions he set himself. so, he sits on the barstool, downing the rest of his beer and then starting on another.

twenty minutes later and you come out of the restroom, your lipstick smeared a little, hair slightly mussed up, and mystery guy’s cum dripping from your cunt onto your panties. you search the bar for eddie, expecting to find him with another girl but surprised to see him standing against a wall by himself. his arms are crossed against his chest.

“there you are,” you smile as you walk up to him. “i looked everywhere for you.”

he takes you in, his brown eyes scanning you up and down before he scoffs. “yeah, i’m sure you did.”

you frown at that, but decide not to push it.

“ready to go?” you ask instead.

he nods and leads the way out of the bar into the cool, november night.

it’s silent on the walk to where his van is parked, and you’re starting to wonder what the hell is up.

“are you mad at me or something?” you blurt out.

“what? why would i be mad at you?” he questions, though his tone isn’t helping him in any way.

“well, i don’t know,” you shrug, stopping just before you reach his van. “that’s why i asked you.”

he sighs deeply, almost as if he’s annoyed you’re even asking in the first place. he’s not annoyed with you. he’s annoyed with himself for feeling the way he does about you and not doing anything about it.

“i’m not mad at you,” he finally says, looking over at you. “i-i just —. forget it.” he opens the passenger door to his van and motions for you to get in.

you know exactly what he’s upset about. you could tell from the moment you walked up to him. you saw him eyeing you dancing with mystery guy and watching you leave to the restroom with him. you saw him glancing at you in your post-sex state.

“you know,” you say as you step closer to him. “you’re not the only one who can have fun, eddie. you fuck different girls all the time and i just ‘have to’ suck it up because ‘you know what this is.’ but when i decide to have some fun for myself, you get mad and treat me like this?”

you’re glancing up at him, nostrils flaring with anger and eyes glaring daggers. eddie opens his mouth to say something but you’re quick to interrupt him.

“if you’re mad that i fucked some random dude in there then i have some news for you. you know what the fuck this is, eddie,” you throw his own words back at him. “if you want things to be different then just fucking say s—.”

eddie cuts you off with his lips, pinning you up against the door of the van. you deepen the kiss, your hand finding purchase in his hair as you tug harshly.

“you’re mine,” he groans against your lips. “all of you. every fucking inch of you.”

“and you?” you ask, breaking the kiss to glance up at him through your lashes.

“yours,” he says with a slight tug at the corner of his lips. “i’m yours.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #fuckboy!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic

[as-is-above-so-below]

Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 2: Midnight Rain

summary: you get yourself in a pickle a/n: hi! I return again! I'm sorry it's short, but I'm trying a new method of posting. Instead of aiming for a specific word count (which leads to me getting writer's block and not posting ANYTHING), I write until I'm satisfied with what I'm trying to achieve. Hopefully, I've achieved that goal, and y'all like it :) Blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

You drummed your fingers against the notebook in your lap and gnawed on the top of your pen. It was late, even by your standards; the sun had long since set, and dinner eaten hours ago. But you were up, sitting in the dark in your living room, heavy rain pelting your old windows. You were trying to pull together a new lesson plan for the following day. A few curious students had started asking questions about the modern military. Like, key differences between military strategies used in the time they were studying and today. And, of course, yet again, you made promises that you were struggling to keep. And you always keep your promises to your students.

Fuck.

The internet wasn’t helping at all. You didn’t study military strategy in any of your courses. Was that even a thing?

The last thing you wanted to do was call him. You were so confident that you could solve your problem yourself, at nine o’clock. Now, it was past midnight, and you were absolutely desperate.

Fuck.

Before your tired brain can flood with guilt and change its mind, you grab your phone from your nightstand and tap into your recent calls log. Your stomach churned, anxiety bubbling up with every trill. God, it’s so fucking late to be calling. It felt like you were split in two. One half of you was praying that his phone was on silent (you know it’s not) or he’ll sleep through the ringing (he won’t), while the other–the miserable, exhausted half–needed him to pick up.

The latter won out.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

John’s deep, sleepy voice made you feel guilty and incredibly happy that you’d woken him up. Soft and grumbly, rolling in his chest; it made you feel soft and warm inside…

Not the point of the call.

“Hi, John. I’m completely fine, I just…” You took a deep breath, the heel of your free hand pressed into one of your dry, worn-out eyes. “I know you’re this big important captain, and you have work in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a pickle and need a massive favor.”

There was a slight rustling on the other end like he had turned slightly to check the nearby time. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, love,” he mumbled.

You felt even worse. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” you begged, running a hand over the top of your head. “One of my kids asked about the military. It sparked a whole discussion in class, and I may have overstated my knowledge. I barely know anything about it, and my brain is turning to mush. I’m so tired I wanna cry, and-”

He quickly cut off your rambling. “Woah, hey. Slow down there. What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly sounding much more awake. 

That brought you pause. You honestly hadn’t thought what you would ask if John actually answered the phone through. It was one o’clock in the morning, which John had correctly pointed out, and your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity. 

“I was…wondering if you could give me a lesson. Because I’m super tired, and I like to hear you talk.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from you just…talking to me? But I’m a history teacher. I’m an expert on wars, not war.”

There was some shuffling on the phone. On the other line, John was leaning over the edge of his bed, searching blindly for his little pocket planner in the pile of clothes on the floor. The rustling stopped when he placed the device on his pillow, rifling through the calendar. He sniffed and was quiet for a moment, while you nibbled anxiously at your pen. Again.

The silence finally broke with a tired sniffle from John. “I can do you better. Why don’t I come to your classes tomorrow?” he asked.

You froze, pen still between your teeth. John? Coming to your school? Spending the day with your students? That would be the equivalent of introducing your boyfriend to your children. 

“…Really?”

“Sure.”

Could you even call him your boyfriend? You’d been on a few dates, sure, over the last…two months? No, it was closer to three. Had it been that long already? You did some quick math in your head. You’d gone on about one date a week, with a few canceled due to last-minute commitments. Still, about one date a week, over three months…

Holy shit.

“John, I’m sure you’re busy. I couldn’t-”

“Not at all,” he hummed, cutting you off. “Besides, it would take me ‘til class tomorrow to give you a good enough rundown, and the boss loves shite like this.”

“I thought you were the boss?”

You could practically hear a small smile tugging at John’s lips. The expression was a familiar one. The corner of his mouth quirked up, shifting his beard and creating happy wrinkles near his eyes. His nose would scrunch up a bit, too, especially if you were out in cold weather. 

“Everybody has a boss, sweetness. Myself included.”

Christ. Not the pet names. And especially not in the tired, gravelly tone his voice was currently in. John Price was going to be the death of you, even in his unfocused state.

You unfolded your legs from underneath you and moved your notebook onto the coffee table. Your resolve was fading, and you couldn’t be bothered to argue. While you did feel bad about dragging John to your school to fix the problem you created, you weren’t sure you had any other option. Accept defeat? To a group of teenagers? Absolutely not. You’d never live it down. You sighed, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

A soft smile crossed your face. “Is this just a ploy to meet my kids?”

“Maybe.”

Your sleepy giggles were like music to John’s ears. The sound alone was worth the favor. As if he wouldn’t have done it anyway, just to ease your stress. He would take any and every opportunity to make your day easier or make you happy. What he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh in person, laying beside you in your bed–

No. John’s a good man. A gentleman, he would say. A man who was perfectly capable of not acting on his urges and thoughts. At least, not in person. However, in the privacy of his own home? That was a different story.

“Thank you so much, John.”

Right. You’re still on the phone. He heard a soft click on your end of the call.

“That’d better be you closing your laptop, I’m hearing.”

“It is.”

“Good girl.” You blushed furiously. Fuck. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

taglist: @novausstuff, @cutiecusp, @ittosbigfatmantitties, @helpimhyperfixating, @hihhasotherfixations, @dugiioh, @glitterypirateduck, @cringeycookies, @lethalchiralium

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

#captain john price x f!reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #john price x teacher!reader #call of duty #captain john price #cardigan as is above so below #as is above so below #cod mw #mw fics #call of duty fanfic #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #teacher!reader #john price x afab!reader

[slasherstories123]

Hello there! I saw that your starting to write slashers as dads so I got an idea! Jason voorhees, Micheal myrs, pennywise, and art the clown (of u write for him) reacting to kid reader being bullied (also this is when the slasher already took him in) how would the slashers react to this:)? Ty and have a great day

Jason, Michael, Pennywise, and Art the clown’s reaction to kid! Reader being bullied

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @mrs-heelshire @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @emychan @charliedawn @sleepypersonblog @slasherscrybaby @anim3l0v3r @kawaistrawberry21 @l0sercat

Jason Voorhees

Jason was looking everywhere for you.

He thought you might’ve gotten lost in the forest, it even cause his mother to freak out in his head thinking you got trapped in one of his traps set up for the trespassers.

Ever since he took you in he set up more traps for trespassers so they won’t hurt you, he didn’t want to think of the sight of you being hurt

Once he heard laughing in the distance, he stopped walking, slowly hiding behind the trees to see what was happening.

A group of kids were picking on you, he could tell that you were trying your best not to cry.

“Knock it off! Or I’m telling my Dad!” You yelled. One of the kids laughed at you, “Aw what’s your Dad gonna do? He dosen’t even know you’re here!”

Jason was livid, seeing those kids bully you reminded him of himself. He wasn’t gonna let that happen to you. Jason silently walked up behind you, you didn’t feel the dark presence radiate off Jason, but the kids sure did.

Once they saw him they ran away in fear. You felt him pick you up, it took you by surprise but you still hugged him.

“Thank you dad.”

Michael Myers

If you bully his child it’s over for you. But clearly a few kids didn’t get the message.

When it comes to you Michael will do anything to protect you, that’s why he watches from afar to make sure you’re okay and no one hurts you

He lost track of you since you were running away from a bunch of kids.

Once he caught up to you and the kids, he watched them from afar. Seeing them push you around while you begged them to stop. “Stop it!” They didn’t listen.

Once you fell on the ground you thought you saw him in the distance, but once you got up he was gone. You then heard a few of the kids run away

You turned around, seeing Michael having one of the kids in a death grip by his shirt while looking deep into his eyes. The kid tried to pry himself away. “Dad wait!” You yelled, grabbing onto his arm

Michael let out a huff towards you before dropping the kid, he ran away along with his other friends.

He then looked at you, your hands were still on his arm, you quickly pulled them away. You didn’t hear him, but you could see him let out a big sigh from his chest. Placing his hand out for you to take

You took it, now walking home with him.

Pennywise

You must be god himself if you think you can get away with bullying Pennywise’s child. There’s a lot of bully’s in Derry and besides the losers club they like to pick on you

A group of girls were chasing after you on their bikes while laughing at you. You managed to escape from their attack, trying to pour trash all over you.

“Come back y/n!” One of them screamed.

You kept running until you mad wit to the sewers. Hoping that your father Pennywise was still in there.

One of the girls let out a scoff. “Going in the sewers huh Y/N? No wonder why you smell like shit!” That caused the others to laugh too.

A loud growl made them all stop laughing, one of them even going into the sewers themselves. A balloon floated in front of them, once it popped Pennywise bolted towards them with his razor sharp teeth

The girls screamed before running away. Even though he wanted to chase after then, you came first.

“You can come out now little human.” You slowly poked your head out from behind one of the corners, his yellow eyes then turning back to blue,

“They won’t hurt you as long as I’m here.” He’ll make sure to terrorize them in their dreams once you fall asleep.

Art the Clown

Not many people know your father and that was okay, considering the fact that he does leave a lot, but he comes back rather quickly just to make sure you’re safe

Art has his own way of taking care of you unlike the others, even though his ways are wicked, you still love him as a father

A boy wouldn’t stop following you, calling you names as you tried to walk back home. Art heard him too

Once you passed an alleyway, Art jumped in front of the boy with his trash bag. Waving at him. You turned around and let out a sigh of relief

The boy was confused, even calling Art names too, but names don’t affect him, instead, it fills his ego

Art held up his finger, telling him to wait as he looked in his trash bag. Knowing him, he was probably gonna pick out a weapon of some sort

He pulled out a fire gun up in the air like it was a trophy. Then pointing it at him. The boy put his hands up in defense, once Art pulled the trigger, the fire shot out, nearly hitting the boy if he didn’t back up in time, screaming for help while running away from the two of you

Art nodded his head when the boy left, putting the fire gun back in his bag before excitingly extending his hand out towards you.

You smiled and grabbed it, you both slipped down the street together to go home.

#Jason Voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees fluff #michael myers #michael myers x reader #rz michael myers fluff #pennywise #Pennywise x reader #pennywise fluff #art the clown #art the clown x reader #art the clown fluff #art the clown headcannons #jason voorhees headcanons #michael myers headcanons #pennywise headcannons #slasher fluff #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #slashers #slasher imagines #slasher x you

[portgasdwrld]

could you pls do a oneshot on how sanji would react to his male!s/o (if you do male) looking at himself in the mirror before asking him if he’d love him more if he were a woman cause he has seen how different he was treated compared to nami and robin:) angst to comfort pls💕

📂 Would you love me more if I was a women?

Male reader X Sanji

Warning: angst to comfort

Note: Hi love! Yes I’m open to write for male reader as stated in my rules !! So all good! I have never tried it before so I hope you still like it 💕✨Its also a concept I honestly have been thinking of somehow?? So let’s dive in 👩🏻‍💻

You were getting dressed as Sanji was still sleeping peacefully. His light snoring mixed with the melody of the early birds in the morning was everything domestic you loved. Sanji didn’t have much sleep last night as he had a lot of cleaning to do late at night after a big feast on the boat. You stared at your lover comfortable in the sheets, his fluffy blonde hair scattered on his face as his lips were slightly parted.

You loved him so much but there was time you doubted his love. You eyes trailed on your figure as your eyes lingered on your reflection. You stared at yourself in the mirror as thoughts flooded your mind. You of course noticed how different his behaviour differs when he’s with a women and that always left you feeling uneasy. When Sanji realized his feelings for you, he never treated you so far different as the two women on the ship, but you could still notice some differences. Somewhere inside you, you wondered if he would’ve loved you more as a women and every time your mind went there, you could feel your heart shatter a little.

Your eyes fixed on your reflection and your nude torso, your eyes slowly started to fill with tears as the feeling was too unbearable anymore. You tried not to wake your boyfriend up, so you tried to be silent, but some sniffs gave it away. Sanji stirred awake from his sleep and in his morning voice he mumbled your name.

You didn’t reply as you know your shaky voice would give it away so you proceed by putting your shirt on and hiding your face away from him.

-Are you crying, baby?

He asked alarmed as he pushed himself sat on the bed. He stared at you through the mirror with his messy hair.

-No…it’s fine..

You say under your breath as you wipe your tears with your hands.

-No, its not. You’re crying my love..

He says softly in an almost broken voice. He hated seeing you like this and not knowing why made him feel upset. He immediately gets up and find his way to you as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, chest pressed against your back. The moment he embraced you, you broke down in tears.

-It’s so stupid Sanji…

You sob even harder feeling your chest suddenly so heavy.

-Nothing is stupid if it makes you cry, what’s wrong? Tell me, sweetheart..

You do your best to calm down with few big breaths, gathering up the courage to ask him this question that have been taunting you since the beginning of your relationship.

-Would …Would you love me more if I was a woman…

Sanji looks at you in disbelief a second. He furrows his eyebrows and doesn’t waste any time showering you with kisses on your back and neck. Letting his fingers trail your back to comfort you.

-Look at me, why would you ever think that?

He asks in a serious tone, concerned shown all over his face. You look down at your nervous fingers and let a deep sigh out.

-You clearly treat Nami and Robin differently than the rest of the crew, because we are males..

-No, I treat you and the girls differently. I don’t care about the rest. You are the one I love and care about more than anything, no matter what’s your gender.

He sits next to you and softly makes you look at him. He takes your hands and soothes them by brushing his thumbs over each.

-I grew up with a man in my life that shaped how I treat women and I can’t do nothing about it even if I want to, because it’s been that way ever since I was a kid…My body naturally act this way.

He takes a big breath as he watches your expression carefully, trying his best not to fumble with his words and hurt you more.

-But my heart beats so fast only when I’m with you, I seek only for your heart and your eyes. I hope I haven’t treated you any different from them, but if you ever feel that way from now on, tell me on the spot and I will fix it, alright? It pains me so much to see you like this, you know I love you?

He explains slowly weighting his words. He couldn’t change his past actions or how they could’ve possibly hurt you, but he wants to be a better man for you now and in the future. He wants to give all he has for you, because you just mean that much to his eyes. You slightly avoid his eyes for a moment, but a small smile creep up on your lips as you stare at his soft warm smile.

-I love you too..I’m sorry I don’t kno-

-You don’t need to be sorry, darling. I’m the one who apologizes.

Sanji quickly cuts you off with a huge grin as he wraps his arms around your body. He closes his eyes as he thinks of the situation and he couldn’t imagine a life without you. He will do anything to change this. He opens his eyes once again and slightly pull away to leave a kiss on your nose and forehead. He smiles.

-Breakfast?

#one piece sanji #sanji x male reader #one piece x male reader #anime x male reader #male reader fics #sanji x reader #Sanji fluff #sanjionepiece #black leg sanji #sanji headcanons #sanji #op sanji #one piece headcanons #one piece #one piece x reader #tomiewrites🌷

[atinyniki]

only mine.

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!kim seungmin x f!reader

genre: fluff, a little angst

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, crying, lots of fighting, possessiveness (seungmin), lots of jealousy (also seungmin), accusations/slut-shaming, seungmin is referred to as min, minnie, and seungie, unprofessional work ethics, seungmin is a real jerk, nonconsensual kissing, drinking, forced proximity (shared bed), drunk confessions, seungmin is TOXICCCC!

authors note: one of my least fav fics ngl, didnt have very great ideas for this one but i tried my best ! this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 4482

(pt. 2)

“i’m sorry y/n…”

you’re sitting on the couch, hands awkwardly placed in your lap. “it’s okay, i wasn’t expecting anything it’s just… i needed to get it off my chest.”

your relationship with jeongin is basically ruined at this point. things are going to be terribly awkward now, especially since you’re one of the makeup artists for stray kids. 

the boys are all great friends with you too, so there’s not really a high chance of you getting put with another group. 

jeongin stays silent, and you take it as a sign to leave. you quickly make your way out of the room to see seungmin on the couch, smirking at you. your eyes were already welling up with tears, you just wanted jeongin to say something. 

instead, you’re met with seungmin, tears threatening to leave your eyes. “did you really think someone like jeongin would like you back?”

your heart plummets, you feel sick to your stomach. you don’t answer, walking toward the front door. “awhh, someone’s upset”

“not right now seungmin, i’m not in the mood.”

“you’re never in the mood. now get the fuck out.”

you quickly shut the door behind you, taking a deep breath and making your way home. it’s just a simple rejection, you know, but seungmins words still linger in your mind. 

what were you thinking? jeongin would never like someone like you.

it was time to shoot their new music video, the whole atmosphere feeling incredibly awkward. jeongin did his best to avoid you, tending to another stylist instead. 

you quickly finish up chans makeup, showing him what it looks like in the mirror. he practically beams at you, you know you’ve done well. “why aren’t you talking y/n?”

you swallow down the lump in your throat, you know you can trust chan. “oh nothing, just a little awkward now”

“why so?”

“jeongin didn’t tell you?”

chan looks incredibly confused, shaking his head with an eyebrow slightly raised. you give in, explaining the story vaguely to chan, making sure to leave out the interaction with seungmin.

“oh wow… and he said… nothing?”

you slowly nod, head hung low. chan can see the hurt swirling in your eyes, “it’s okay, at least that means he didn’t say anything bad”

you laugh a little at chans logic, thinking about what seungmin said. jeongin is too good for you. you know it. why did you even try?

you continue your conversation with chan, when all of a sudden, seungmin pops up behind you. “wow… first jeongin and now chan? jeez, talk about desperate…”

you try to contain yourself in front of the boys, swallowing down the harsh words that are so incredibly close to leaving your mouth. 

you couldn’t get anything out, just simply mumbling a quick apology and darting out the door before the tears spilled. you don’t know why seungmin hates you so much.

as soon as the door shuts, you can hear chan yelling at seungmin. you don’t want to ruin their friendship, and you’re truly considering leaving for a bit. 

you arrive home, quickly changing and flopping onto the bed. the heavy feeling in your heart doesn’t go away. 

suddenly, you get a text. you check your phone, wondering who could be texting you. 

minmin 🐶 : stay away from them, seriously. you’re making jeongin uncomfortable.

you don’t really know how to answer, so you just lay there with your phone in your hand. you don’t know how to gather your feelings about anything right now.

minmin 🐶: you can’t just go around fucking with every guy you find hot

another text breaks you out of your thoughts. 

minmin 🐶: are you not even going to answer?

y/n: i’m not fucking around with anyone, seungmin.

minmin 🐶: then what is it for?

minmin 🐶: money? 

minmin 🐶: attention?

y/n: no seungmin, it’s because i actually have feelings. 

y/n: just leave me alone, please?

minmin 🐶: oh so now all of a sudden it’s a sensitive subject for you?

y/n: why do you keep bugging me about this seungmin? i’m trying to get over it

y/n: i’ll stay away from jeongin, just leave me alone.

you could see seungmin typing, and then it suddenly stops. you don’t get a message after that, and decide to just go to sleep.

you’re preparing for another filming session, touching up jeongin’s makeup. you make sure not to get too close, remembering what seungmin had said to you not too long ago.

seungmin seems to be giving you weird looks from across the room. you don’t think anything of it, and continue fixing up jeongin’s makeup. before you turn around to help changbin, you give jeongin a smile.

jeongin doesn’t return the smile however, instead walking over to seungmin to talk about the choreography. you don’t think anything of it, and just do your job. you’re not overstepping your boundaries, especially after jeongin established them.

or after… seungmin established them.

the room is dead silent aside from changbins vocal warmups. you quickly complete seungmins makeup, making sure not to say a word that could set his mood off. 

you bring out the hair curler, slowly framing seungmins bangs around his face. you see seungmins eyes darting around, but you decide to focus on the task at hand.

once seungmin makes sure his arms are hidden from the camera, he tugs you by the shirt, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. 

before you can even manage to escape, he pushes you off of him. the curler falls onto you, burning a thick line onto your forearm. “what the fuck y/n?! why would you do that?!”, he exclaimed.

all heads are turned towards you now, “what do you mean?! you kissed me?!”, you replied incredulously. 

the staff manages to get you as far away from him as possible. along with losing most of your friends, you also lose your reputation, as well as your job. it feels as if everything has suddenly shattered because of one stupid crush.

you knew that seungmin had hated you for a while, maybe you shouldn’t have pissed him off with jeongin. 

the security camera footage didn’t show any signs of seungmin kissing you, so they took his word for it. you were no longer a part of stray kids’ team.

weeks passed. you didn’t want to bring up seungmin to the managers, it was pointless to ruin his career. it would be easier for you to find a new job, but for seungmin, the backlash would be incredibly overwhelming. you couldn’t do that to him.

you weren’t completely let go of though, only moved to work with itzy instead. if you’ll be honest, it’s a lot easier to work without having seungmin around. you’re more focused on your job now.

“is it really true that seungmin framed you?”, yuna asks abruptly.

you were taken aback by the sudden question, not knowing if you should answer or not. “umm…”

ryujin walks over to you, resting a hand on your shoulder. she leans over to whisper something into your ear. “we heard the boys arguing about it… i know you didn’t do it, y/n”

shit. your eyes stay on the floor, afraid to look up. “talk to him, please y/n”, yuna begs.

you jerk your head up towards her, “seungmin?”

“yeah? who else? dummy”

you consider it for a moment, maybe this was your chance to clear out the tension between you two. “i’ll think about it”

you weren’t lying. you thought about it all night. you know he wouldn’t want to, but maybe, just maybe, he’d give you one more chance. 

you finish styling your hair and doing your makeup, flattening down the sides of your hot pink dress. you thought it’d fit the theme for the party tonight because of the comeback. 

you’re not quite sure why you’re even invited, but a party is a party right? you quickly drive there, making a mental note not to drink at all. you need to be in proper condition to get home.

you finally walk into the room, all the girls rushing to you instantly. lily is squealing because of your outfit, while yeji is fixing the jewelry adorning your neck. you all have a blast. that is, until the boys noticed you.

you’re suddenly reminded of how you left the boys in the first place, a little discomfort visible on your face. suddenly, you’re dragged away from the girls by seungmin, unable to free yourself from his hold.

“ooa- y/nnie! you’re here?”, he slurs.

yeah. he was definitely drunk. since when did he start calling you y/nnie anyways? “you’re drunk, dumbass”

“well duh- you look prettyyy”

his words get more confusing by the second. why is he acting like this towards you? “thanks min”

he giggles at the nickname, a sound you don’t hear very often, until an arm grabs him behind. “oh gosh y/n, i’m so sorry, he’s been looking for you all night”, jeongin says with a nervous chuckle.

“all night…?”

“shhh don’t tell her”, seungmin pleaded with puppy eyes. 

“tell me what?”, he’s piqued your interest now. 

jeongin begins to speak, “noth-“

“that i’m in love with youuu”

your jaw drops, jeongin’s does too. you both share a look, then turning to look at seungmin, who’s already lunging towards you. he clings onto your arm, smiling and nuzzling into your shoulder.

“jeongin. how long did you know about this?!”

he looks at you, the expression on his face is one of guilt. “almost a year now…”

your eyes widen, and you stare at seungmin. his face is bright red, too wasted to comprehend what is happening right now. jeongin says a quick goodbye, leaving you to deal with seungmin.

“y/nnieeee can we go to your house? it’s too loud here”, he pouts. you consider it for a moment, but then you remember how he might react when he wakes up in the morning. 

he grabs your arm, kissing over the burn that he gave you. you didn’t push him away though, but not because it felt good. of course it didn’t feel good. okay… maybe it felt good.

maybe seungmin would appreciate you taking him home rather than being stuck with seven drunk guys. you look down at him again, who’s hopelessly clinging onto your arm. “pleaseeee?”, he asks with puppy eyes.

how can someone look so cute doing that?

wait. what? what are you thinking? kim seungmin is far from cute. of course, you still gave in and agreed though. “fine, but you can’t trash my house okay?”

“mmph okay”, he slurs. you quickly drag him out of the place, saying your goodbyes and rushing him to your car before people can ask questions. he sits comfortably in your car, hands placed in his lap and soft hums leaving his lips. 

his voice is laced with exhaustion, and even then it sounds so beautiful. you stay silent on the way home, not wanting to interrupt his singing.

“we’re here”, you say quietly.

seungmin quickly exits the car before you can even put your hand on the handle and opens the door for you. 

what a gentleman.

you laugh at his silly antics, and a frown makes its way onto his face. “i’m sorry, i wanted to help you a little too.”, he spoke softly.

you look up at him while you exit the car, his lower lip quivering slightly. you don’t say anything, but you grab his hand and lead him inside to your room. 

you grab a change of clothes for him and rush to the bathroom to get dressed for bed. when you’re finished, you walk out again to see seungmin sitting on the bed, crying.

“what’s wrong min?”

“w-who’s clothes are these? do you have a boyfriend? why do you have guys’ clothes?”

you couldn’t help but giggle at his jealousy, walking towards him to wipe away his tears. “they’re my ex’s, he left them behind.”

he looks at you, eyes still a deep red from crying. “n-no! i don’t want to wear these! i don’t want to remind you of your ex…”

the frown is back on your face, and you’re quick to comfort him. “they’re the only clothes i have, i don’t want you to be uncomfortable at night. please?”

he smiles at you again, “okay!”

he rushes to the bathroom to go change, you’re a little surprised at the lack of convincing it took for him to change as well. he comes out of the bathroom, a wide smile plastered on his freshly washed face after seeing you.

you grab an extra blanket from the room, “you can sleep in the bed”

the frown reappears once again, “what? where are you going? stay with me, please?”, he pouts.

you smiled at him again, setting the blanket down and laying in your bed. surely there was enough space for the both of you, right?

he lays down next to you, instantly spooning you. you knew there was no fighting it, and instead thought about how you’d explain all this to seungmin in the morning.

“don’t tell anyone about my secret please”

“i won’t, don’t worry seungmin.”

you wake up to warm breath fanning over your lips, seungmins soft hands holding yours. it takes a moment in your sleep ridden mind to process your proximity with seungmin, only a mere centimeter away from kissing him.

it takes everything in you to pull away as far as you can, but that doesn’t stop you from admiring him. there is no scowl evident on his face, nor is there a judgemental look. he looks like he’s at peace, you think he looks much better like this.

you quickly go back to sleep, wanting to avoid the awkward moment where seungmin realizes that he’s in your bed alone. you’d like to keep him some company.

only an hour later, seungmin wakes up, slowly taking in his surroundings. you’re still asleep, cheek squished into the pillow and lips puckered right in front of him.

he sits up abruptly, a blush covering his face and ears. what happened last night? “mmm seungmin?”

his head jerks towards your figure again. so, he’s not hallucinating. you’re actually there. “what am i doing here?”

“we were at the party last night and you got super drunk. you refused to leave me alone and insisted we go home because it was too loud in there.”

he thinks for a moment, before you cut off his thoughts again. “we didn’t do anything, don’t worry.”

a sigh of relief leaves his lips, “thank you for… uh- bringing me here.”, he says sheepishly. “mhm”, you mumble. you get out of bed, getting ready for the day and unboxing the spare toothbrush you have.

you finish freshening up, “the green toothbrush is yours, its new”

a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, you don’t think you’ve ever seen sober seungmin smile at you. “thanks”.

he meets you in the kitchen not long after, and you drive him back to the dorms, meeting with jeongin before you leave. 

“listen, i know that the whole thing yesterday happened but please don’t tell seungmin i know.”

“what? why not?”

“if anything, i want him to tell me… on his own terms”, you reply.

jeongin understands where you’re coming from, so he nods and decides to drop it. “thanks for bringing seungmin home”, he says with a smile.

“it’s no problem”, you smile back.

you quickly make your way down the hall and get in your car to leave. the past couple hours have finally began to process in your brain.

kim seungmin, the bane of your existence, has a cute little crush on you. how sweet.

“did you guys do anything?!”, lia asked excitedly.

“no, nothing happened. i just brought him home because he was upset about the noise”, you chuckle nervously.

“awh”, she pouts, “i was hoping for something when i saw you both leave together”

you shake your head, and continue doing her makeup. 

all of a sudden, you get a call from

stray kids’ manager. “hello?”

“hey, is this y/n? we’re not quite sure why but the boys really need your help. we heard crashing but they wouldn’t let us in after the stylist rushed out. could you come over real quick?”

“i’ll be there in five”

you quickly finish up lia’s makeup and rush out the room, afraid that something bad has happened.

you knock on the door, careful not to startle any of the boys. “hello? it’s y/n”

before you can take a breath, the door swings open and you’re met with a disheveled minho. you peer behind him, locking eyes with seungmin. his hair was a mess, as well as the eyeshadow smeared across his face.

minho lets you in, locking the door behind you. you walk over to seungmin, who’s sitting in a chair in front of the mirror. the boys tend to themselves again, getting their own makeup done before leaving the room completely.

“kiss another one of your stylists?”, you joke.

you notice the upset look on his face and figure you should just shut up for now, quickly removing his eye makeup.

his eyes open again, watching as you open another pallette and grab a brush. his eyes immediately dart to the dark purple burn mark on your skin, guilt eating him away more and more.

why do you still care about him? why do you keep doing things for him when he ruined so much for you? seungmin never cries, he couldn’t let himself. not in front of you. 

but the tears were inevitable, small droplets trickling down his face. you turn around, heart immediately plummeting to your stomach. “what’s wrong min?”

he quickly grabs a tissue, dabbing away the tears. “i’m sorry for um… the burn”.

you look down at your arm, the dark purple seared into your skin. “oh this? this is nothing, dont worry about it”

you approach him with the brush again, swiping away a stray tear before you dry his eyes and get back to work. you think about the time he kissed over the scar. even though he was drunk, you knew he felt guilty about it.

“im sorry i made you lose your job.”

wow. kim seungmin… apologizing? twice?

“oh it’s no big deal, i’m just with itzy now”

“no, it is a big deal. the boys all miss you now, they’re still angry with me. no stylist puts up with me anymore, you were the only one. i didn’t mean to make you lose your job, i just… didn’t want you crushing on my friends anymore”

you smile a little at him, his motive suddenly becoming clear. he kissed you because he was jealous. he didn’t want you crushing on his friends, he wanted you crushing on him.

“well, i can’t come back, that’s the managers decision, but if they let me… i will. i promise. it was a silly crush that wore off in a couple days anyways.”

you could see the faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but he hid it as well as he possibly could. you spoke a little more about upcoming plans, wanting to avoid the subject because it was clearly making seungmin feel guilty.

after finishing his hair and makeup, you admire the work youve done on him in only ten minutes. what you didn’t account for though, was the proximity between you two. 

you’re only inches away from his face, eyes tracing every feature and outline. seungmins face flushed red, as does yours, but neither of you pull away. your faces inch closer to eachother, a nervous look on his.

“seungmin! are you two done yet?”, you hear chan yell from outside.

you quickly scramble to distance yourself, helping seungmin up from the chair, your faces still bright red. maybe you were too blinded by his attitude to admit your feelings.

you open the door to see chan, a smile on his face when he notices the blush on your cheeks. “what, did you two kiss or something?”, he teased.

“kiss her?!”, seungmin asked incredulously.

you just laughed. you didn’t need to be upset anymore. you knew it was all just an act.

“there’s really no need to punish seungmin. it happened a long time ago, and he’s already apologized to me personally.”

you’re discussing getting your job back with the managers of stray kids, finally joining back as stray kids’ stylist.

you go through the many formalities, a little upset that you have to leave itzy, but you’re glad you’re back. the girls understand of course, which you are incredibly grateful for.

“you’re back? like really?!”, jisung asks excitedly. 

you nod your head, giving him a sweet smile. the boys begin to cheer, but your eyes are fixed on seungmin. his wide smile drops as soon as you look at him, and you pout.

he quickly turns towards the mirror, not wanting you to know what your pout does to him. 

“whos… that”

“i’m not sure, but they seem to be very touchy”, yuna observes.

why is a random girl being so touchy with seungmin? and… why does it bother you?

the more you really comprehend your thoughts, the more you truly process to what extent you like seungmin. it’s difficult for you not to confess, to keep your feelings a secret.

you continue to stare at the girl, when ryujin finally snapped you out of it. “why do you keep staring hm? are you perhaps… jealous?”, she teased.

you look at her dead in the eye, unsure about how to respond. that’s when she realizes you’re serious. “wait… really?”

you nod lightly, finally coming to terms with your feelings now. your eyes avert their gazes, suddenly embarrassed. “well now we have to set you up!”

you jerk your head up to look at her again. “are you crazy? what if that girl is his girlfriend?”

“baby, i think you’re too focused on the girl to see the clear disgust on seungmins face right now.”, jisung chimes in.

you jump, a little startled, “jeez ji, how long have you been there?” 

“long enough to hear that you have a little liking for my friend”

the girls sense the atmosphere of the conversation, quickly leaving you with jisung to talk. “sorry ji, i don’t mean to… intrude or anything.”

“oh not at all! i’m just curious about how you’re planning to confess.”

“i’m… not quite sure yet either”

jisung giggles at your nervousness, “word of advice, he likes his confessions straightforward”

you nod, smiling a little. “thanks ji”, you laugh awkwardly.

“no problem”, he replies with a smile. 

you split off to find the girls again, only to be dragged away by jeongin not too long after. “when are you confessing?”, he asks abruptly.

you stare at him, shocked at how direct the question is. “soon… within this week most likely. why?”

“y/n, i shit you not, the boy is going absolutely mad in the dorms. his little crush on you has gotten like a thousand times worse since you brought him to your house that one night”

“oh jeez… okay i’ll- i’ll tell him soon, i promise”, you say with a smile.

“i’m not pressuring you of course, but god i don’t know how much longer i can stand hearing him yap about that shit” 

you nod, laughing a little, “understandable”. you turn your head, almost immediately locking eyes with seungmin. it looks could kill, you’re almost certain you’d be dead right now.

your heart sinks to your stomach at the sight on him, and you quickly say goodbye to jeongin and walk off. maybe jeongin isn’t the best person to talk to about these things…

did they have to leave you with seungmin every time you’re styling them? 

he averts your gaze, an angrier look on his face than usual. “seungie, what’s wrong?”

his heart flutters at the nickname, almost making him smile, but he focuses. “what’s wrong is that you keep flirting around with my friends.”

“who, jeongin?”

he nods, a little embarrassed after confronting you. “are you jealous i’m stealing your best friend from you?”

“no, i’m jealous because my best friend is stealing you from me”

seungmin quickly clamps a hand over his mouth, processing what he’s just said. “i- i didn’t-“

you stare into his eyes, urging him to go on. “fuck it”, he mutters under his breath. “y/n, i am fucking infatuated with you, you know? i…”

you grab his hand and smile at him, stroking over his knuckles gently. “i’m sorry ive been such a bitch to you recently, but you never seemed to really notice me before this. i thought that maybe if i was mean to you, it could help me hide my own feelings…”

he opens his eyes again to see you again, only centimeters away from his face this time. you inch closer towards his face, stopping right before your lips touched. “don’t push me away this time min… please.”

he closed the gap between you two in a soft kiss, smiling against him as he chased you even more. you pull away, “i like you too seungmin, a lot”

he chuckles, pulling you onto his lap, “i liked you first.”

your lips meet in a kiss again, and felix knocks on the door, opening it not to long after. “you guys okay in… oh- i’m- i’ll just-“, he stutters over his words as he rushes out the door, closing it again.

you and seungmin giggle again, and you quickly finish his makeup before bringing him outside. the boys all give you teasing looks, and you have to brush them off before you get too flustered.

on the other hand, every time it’s mentioned, seungmin has a big goofy smile on his face, one that you can’t stop yourself from admiring. he turns to you again, his eyes softening when he sees your eyes fixated on his smile.

the boys finish practice, and you meet with all of them later. there’s a frown on seungmins face, probably because he couldn’t focus at all and got all the moves wrong. 

you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. “what are you doing?”

you giggle, “well, i can’t have my boyfriend being all grumpy in front of his friends can i?”

he turns around quicker than you can process, “boyfriend?”, he says with a hopeful smile. “obviously”, you chuckle.

he places quick pecks onto your lips and nose, completely forgetting that his friends are in the room with him, and if you’ll be honest, so did you.

you’re brought out of your thoughts when changbin finally speaks up.

“yoh! can you two get a room?”

<3

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