#truth be told i was a little taken aback on seeing there would be another actor for kasen

[rinhaler]

I Should Just Walk Away !

His knuckles are split, what are you meant to do? Not tend his wounds? Someone’s gotta do it! It doesn’t mean you’re going to fuck him again. No way.

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot (and a sprinkle of angst?) Notes: I'm gonna make a masterlist and stuff bc I love this au but I'm lazy pls bear with me! ♡ Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, blood ♡, wound care, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, tit sucking ♡, slight edging?, dacryphilia, m+f masturbation, car sex ♡, vaginal sex, creampie ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, kid), mutual pining ♡, angst??, calls ur pussy she/her ♡, (lmk if i missed any!!) Words: 8k

—

Even after proclamations of love for each other, the rest of the ride home is silent and uncomfortable. In hindsight, it might not have been the best decision to divulge the truth of your tryst with Sukuna to your little brother.

You could try to reassure him. But what would be the point? You’re only a few years older than him, yet somehow, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a teenager. When you were Megumi’s age, though, you had parents.

They were alive.

Sure, you were somewhat rebellious but you behaved for the most part. You studied, worked hard, steered clear of ‘bad’ boys. And, as Sukuna so elegantly put it, you’re a ‘snooty doctor’. You’re thankful for that, because without that salary you’d never be able to afford subsidising your brother.

You had your parents.

But you’re all Megumi has.

It’s a little unsettling how quiet he’s actually being. You were bickering not too long ago, you’re taken aback that he seems to have no desire to continue. A fleeting thought that he might be trying to punish you enters your mind.

Your head snaps a few times to look at him, though he doesn’t do the same. There’s a little grimace on his face as he looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

It’s disgust.

“Are we okay?” you wonder, and the way it leaves your lips in a warble must be pathetic for your brother to hear. He scoffs immediately after, still outright refusing to say another word. You make sure to keep an eye on the road, though your gaze can’t help but wander towards your sibling when you get a chance. “I’m just going to make sure he’s patched up properly, okay? He’s not staying the night.”

“As if that matters.” he rolls his eyes.

It should matter. You don’t know what he means, and you don’t dare ask him to elaborate. There’s no reason for you to be scared of a seventeen-year-old. You aren’t. You’re more afraid of disappointing him.

“Megumi…” you take a breath. “It’s late. I think we should talk properly tomorrow.”

He takes a breath not too dissimilar to yours, you aren’t sure if it’s inherited or if it’s a habit he’s picked up from you. Is he mocking you? He doesn’t say much more, shrugging his shoulders is an answer all on its own. And still, it makes your heart twist as anxiety pierces through it like a stake.

“Fine.”

“Really?!” you bark out unintentionally. Maybe he’s more mature than you’ve given him credit for, because agreeing to talk properly is the last thing you expected. Your eyebrows knot briefly, and you look at him again when you reach a red light. “Are you fucking with me? You’re not serious, are you? You’re gonna sneak out in the morning and I won’t see you until—”

“I said fine. Didn’t I?” he grunts. “At least be quiet when you fuck him if you insist on lecturing me in the morning.”

“I’m not doing it again, I told you.” you assure him. “It was a stupid mistake and I regret it but I just wanna make sure his hand is okay. And then I’ll tell him to leave. I promise.”

“Should prob’ly tell him that, ‘cause he won’t stick around once he realises.” you both find yourselves looking in the rearview mirror at the man following behind you at a distance before quickly averting your eyes. “Don’t make promises you’re not gonna keep. You sound like my dad.”

“Ouch, babe. Noted.” you laugh a little despite being genuinely offended.

The rest of the journey is completed with your brain on auto-pilot. You aren’t even sure how you made it home without crashing once you realise you’ve parked perfectly in the driveway.

Megumi snatches your purse and ducks out of the car, making a beeline for the front door. You watch him as you allow your head to gently thud against the headrest behind you; he’s frantically looking for the house keys so he can shield himself from any possible sighting of you and his boss together.

He drops your purse on the ground with little care once he finds what he’s looking for, and you’re startled when you hear a knuckle lightly rap against your window.

“Nice place, princess.” he speaks, though it’s slightly muffled by the closed window.

“Stop calling me—”

“Oi. Pick up the purse.” Sukuna warns your little brother before he can hide indoors.

He looks over his shoulder at you both before slowly crouching down to pick it up. He grips it tight before finally disappearing.

Sukuna gives you room to breathe before offering a hand to help you out. Like you’ve never gotten out of your car before. Instead of taking it, you stare. You stare at his obscenely large hand and can’t help but remember his fingers had been inside of you mere moments ago.

You smile, as politely as you can, before hurriedly chasing after your brother.

He saunters after you with a lazy smirk playing on his features. You only see it when you remember you’d forgotten to lock your car. The sound of his Mercedes locking is a deafening reminder.

You enter your home; he hadn’t even bothered to turn a single light on as he charged straight towards the kitchen. You’d expected him to have locked himself in his bedroom by now. But instead, his silhouette is illuminated by the light emanating from the open fridge.

He grunts when you switch on the living room light, looking at you like a raccoon caught going through the trash as he chomps down on the cereal you’d bought on the way home from work.

“Can you get the first aid kit from the cupboard?” you ask him as you take off your coat and throw it down over the back of the couch. “You shouldn’t be eating so late, y’know.”

“I’m starving. I didn’t eat today, ‘m a growing boy, y’know.” he counters. He moves to look through each and every cupboard. He looks at you and shrugs before continuing to eat.

Your eyes are both directed to the sound of a gently closing door. You half smile at Sukuna as he enters before you look at your brother again in contemplation.

“Oh I moved it to the bathroom ‘cause we never use it.” you sigh as you make your way there. “You can finish eating in your room if you want.”

“Tryna get me out the way?” he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I don’t wanna stick around here anyway.” he side eyes Sukuna as he walks with his bowl towards his room.

You don’t see the amused grin he offers your little brother while you retrieve the first aid kit.

If you had, you’re sure you would have sent him home too.

“Sorry,” you groan, setting the kit down on the coffee table. You stand with your hands on your hips as you stare at him. It’s dawning on you, now, regardless of how exhausted you are. You’ve let a man you barely know into your home. A man older and stronger than you’d ever hope to be. You’ve welcomed a criminal into the space that is meant to be the safest for your little brother.

“I’m not gonna kill ya, sweetheart.” he cuts through your thoughts as if he can read your mind. It makes your heart race, though your face remains stoic as you try and disguise your evident worry. “Last thing I wanna do is scare you, though. I’ll go if you’re—”

“No, it’s fine.” you interject. “I’m tired, though. I’m gonna get changed because I wanna go straight to sleep after this, okay? You’re not staying.”

“Shame, I had fun.” he grins, circling the couch before sinking into it. His body is angled towards you while his eye looks you up and down with purpose. “Get comfy, I’ll be right here waiting for you, darlin’.”

Even someone as headstrong as you can’t deny how giddy he makes you. You walk backwards, unable to take your eyes off him before you eventually find your bedroom. Everything he says is so intentional, it’s almost vindictive. Like he knows just what to say to have you weak at the knees for him.

But this isn’t you.

You’ve never been the type to fall for a man’s alleged charm quite so easily. But you also didn’t think you were the type of person to fuck a stranger. He isn’t exactly a stranger, though.

He’s Megumi’s boss.

“Stop calling him that.” you whisper to yourself as you try and break yourself out of your spiralling train of thought.

You dress yourself in the most unflattering pyjamas you can find, wearing them with the full expectation of turning Sukuna off of you. He can’t possibly still be angling to fuck again when he sees you in mismatched pyjamas, complete with aged holes and stains from that one spaghetti night you and Megumi attempted.

There’s a feeble attempt made at wiping your makeup off, although you barely try. Your smile is almost blinding as you look at what a mess you are. The panda eyes from your smeared eyeliner and mascara enhance your sunken eyebags. Your eyeshadow glitters across the bridge of your nose and into your hairline beside your temples. Your pretty lipstick that you’d lined so perfectly is half removed while the other half is smudged down your chin.

You emerge from your bedroom with a confidence you only ever experience when you’re at home in your comfiest clothes. Despite your appearance, and even despite your company, you’re so content.

His eyes squint as he looks at your face, and even still, he’s smiling. He chuckles softly as you get closer to him, sitting beside him as you open the first aid kit.

“You look way prettier like this, princess.” he tells you, folding his arms across his chest as he continues to stare.

“Ah! Really? You think I look prettier?” you ask sarcastically.

“No, you look awful.” he laughs. “Is this all for my benefit? I still want to fuck you, admirable attempt though.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes as he laughs a little more, and you force yourself to frown when you realise his laughter is contagious. Everything he does is so effortless; you can’t remember the last time you genuinely smiled so hard it hurt your cheeks.

His eye fixates on you as you begin to look through your little first aid kit and pick a few things to use on his knuckles.

“I’m sure you could have done this yourself,” you start as you pick up a packet of antiseptic wipes and begin to clear the blood surrounding his knuckles. “Could have gone to a walk-in place if you were really worried.”

“Of course I could. Been doing this for years, did you really believe I don’t have my own first aid kit?” he asks. “I wanted you to do it.” he confesses, though he’s no longer smiling. You don’t stop wiping away the combination of wet and crusted over blood on his hand, though you can’t help but stare back at him.

Is he trying to scare you?

“You’re unbelievable.” you tell him, quietly.

“It’s hard to do it with one hand, sweetheart. And you’re a professional, I’d have to be an idiot to do it myself.”

You look away, only to pour rubbing alcohol onto a clean wipe. He can’t help but be transfixed as he watches you, admiring how your dainty little hands are so delicate with the equipment. How your face appears so irritated as you perform tedious tasks such as this, but you do it regardless, and he thinks it’s sweet.

“You should be on my payroll,” he finally smiles again. “My private doctor.”

“No.” you shut him down.

“I forgot how stuck up you are. I thought you’d at least be fununtil tomorrow.”

“Be grateful I’m doing this at all.” you reply with ease. All enjoyment and giddiness over his company seems to be a distant memory as you recall the type of man he actually is. You’re grouchy and exhausted, and he’s testing your patience. “I don’t like you and I don’t like what you do. And I hate that you’re involving Megumi.”

“Lighten. Up.” he warns you.

You press the wipe quickly into his cuts, and you can’t help but smile as he winces from the abrupt stinging pain. You laugh harder as he tries to downplay it. His expression becomes unreadable as he tries to appear detached. You can see it in his visible eye, though. It’s watering.

He can’t help but break at the sound of your laughter, however, as you continue to snicker whilst rummaging through for a roll of gauze to wrap around his knuckles.

“I usually don’t crack when I do that myself. You wanted it to hurt.” he smirks, shaking his head.

“Guilty.” you continue to giggle as you face him again.

He doesn’t say another word as he watches you wrap a thick enough layer of bandages around his bloody knuckles. The somewhat shallow lacerations seem to cause slight discomfort despite being taken care of. You watch him, purposefully, as he flexes his fingers a few times to test how it feels.

You aren’t sure if he knows you’re staring, but his guard seems down. It could be an act to disarm you, but you aren’t convinced he’s a good enough actor to pull it off. The genuine curiosity and intrigue on his face due to your handiwork makes you feel off. Is he judging your ability to provide proper care?

It’s not like you wanted to.

But you both know that’s a lie.

He grins when he finally notices you staring at him. And that makes you relax. You were right, he was genuinely lost in thought despite being in your presence.

“You should go now,” you say quietly. You angle your body to rest your arm over the back of the couch, your balled fist supporting your head as you begin to yawn. “I’m tired.”

“Sure.” he nods, moving to stand before relaxing into the soft seating. “I need your number.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, ya need to give it to me sweetheart,” he smirks, mirroring your body language. “Need it so I can tell you when I wanna see you again.”

You scoff, shaking your head defiantly at his bold claim. The thought of him clicking his fingers for you to come running like a loyal lap dog is almost enough to make you gag. You’d slap him if it wasn’t so late, you’re too tired and you don’t want to cause a fuss for Megumi or your neighbours.

“You’re never gonna see me again,” you smile, biting your lip as you look him up and down. “And you’re not seeing Megumi, either. He’s done with your little fight club. And I’m done with you, period.”

“Aren’t you meant to be smart? Concerning that a doctor could be so naïve.” he squints slightly as he regards you, looking you up and down as you had him. You’re so sure of yourself, he can’t help but wonder if you’ve forgotten about your current appearance. “I’ll be seein’ you both again. Megumi isn’t quitting. And I like you, and I’m not the type of man to give up things I like.”

“Tough shit,” you laugh lightly. “You’re gonna have to find another poor woman to pester. I’ve got enough going on without dealing with a loser like you.”

“A loser? Really?” he chortles. “You were moaning on my dick and calling me daddy earlier. Now I’m a loser?”

“Shut up.”

He leans in close to you, noses almost touching and his smile widens further as he sees how glittery your face is from your poor makeup removal. “Are you only going to be nice to me when I fuck that brat out of you?”

You turn your head away, your heart racing as your body betrays you. The want and desire bubbles in the pit of your stomach. But you can’t. You know you can’t; because you promised.

He isn’t special.

Sukuna is not special.

“You’re not fucking anything out of me.” you tell him, peering out of the corner of your eye to see him look a little surprised at your declaration. He thought you were playing hard to get. You aren’t playing. “It was a one-time thing.”

“Really?” he asks, barely missing a beat as he responds. “I don’t understand you. I thought—”

“Of course you don’t understand me. You’ve known me for a few hours. Just because we’ve fucked doesn’t mean you know me.” you remind him. And he nods, he agrees with you. He’d be a fool not to, and the man is no fool. “It was just a heat of the moment mistake. I mean it. I don’t want to see you again and I’m not letting Megumi fight anymore.”

“Why?”

“Why?” you scoff. “He’s a child. It’s dangerous. I don’t want him—”

“No, sweetheart. I’m not stupid, I know why you don’t want him to fight anymore. Do I look like a moron to you?” he asks, voice gruff and harsh as he interrupts without a care. His temper is visible and rising as he begins to run out of patience for your attitude with him. “Why don’t you want to see me?”

“Because you’re shady and I don’t want to upset my brother. He’s already upset, I don’t want to make it worse.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“Excuse m—”

“That’s a reason why Megumi doesn’t want you to see me. Yeah I’m a little shady, but you like me. I know you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have let me come over here, see where and how you live, and tend my wounds like a good girl.” he sneers.

“Fine. I don’t like you and I don’t want to have a platonic relationship with a criminal. Let alone a romantic one. What happened earlier was a mistake.”

“… You’re lying.” he says, and it’s curt. You cross your arms over your chest and shake your head with an amused laugh as you digest his denial. How he can sit there and act so full of himself when you’re being perfectly clear is beyond you. It’s jarring.

You jolt as you feel thick fingers lightly grip your jaw. Your wandering gaze is now brought to him. Your eyes forced to fixate on the placid expression plastered across chiselled features.

“I see you, princess. You don’t wanna see me because you want to get mixed up with a criminal, and you’re scared of that. I see you.”

You stare at him, licking your lips not so discreetly as he continues to cradle your jaw. His lips curl at the sight of the little pink muscle slipping between your lips to wet them. You’re angry. Furious at yourself for letting him touch you, hold you, like this. And you hate yourself, right now. Maybe even more than you hate him, too.

Because he’s right.

Your lack of action gives him cause to stare down at your shimmering lips, it’s a warning. A silent announcement for what he’s about to do. He doesn’t let go, but his head tilts. He leans in closer to you, daring to give you what you both know you want.

And again, he’s thwarted.

You turn away, unable to look at him right after this time.

“… You should go, now.” you tell him.

He sighs, but pulls away. You almost mewl as his thumb softly swipes across your chin. And when he withdraws it, you feel your body fill with loneliness. Your skin feels colder.

And it hurts, because he’s on the right track. You’re pushing him away because of Megumi. But deep down, as much as you crave him right now, you know it’s the right thing to do. You jolt a little as he abruptly stands up from the couch, the breeze from his movement makes you freeze.

He sees it.

“Go to bed, you’ll warm up.” he says bluntly before making his way towards the front door. He stops as he grabs the handle, holding up his bloodied knuckles. “Thank you, for the first aid.”

“It’s… it’s fine. No problem. Goodnight, S-Sukuna.” you say, cursing yourself for the audible whine in your words despite your attempted conviction. You watch him as he grabs the handle before turning to face you again.

“Come with me.” he tells you, curling the tip of his index finger. “I need to give you something, don’t argue. For once.” he demands.

You’re compelled to follow, in spite of his demeaning way of summoning you. You truly don’t want him to leave, you don’t want him to go, so any extra time you can spend with him, you’ll take.

He walks ahead of you, leaving you shivering in the doorway as you try and preserve any warmth you can. He opens the door to his car and turns around, a little bewildered that you aren’t right behind him. It makes you giggle to see him look around in search of you before he finally spots you still at the front door.

“Come here.”

You close the door and rush to his side, quickly looking back to make sure Megumi isn’t looking for you. He rests his arm atop the roof of his Mercedes, before holding out a small piece of paper between his fingers to you.

It’s a business card.

“What kind of thug needs a business card?” you ask before you even think about what you’re saying. He scoffs, squinting at you.

“You’ve only fucked me once, you don’t know me.” he smirks. And at that, you can’t help but laugh. “What you said… makes it seem like we’ll learn more about each other if we keep fucking.”

“I don’t want to know you, Sukuna.” you sigh, reluctant to keep up the charade. Reluctant to keep pretending he doesn’t excite you. To keep pretending the few hours you’ve spent with him haven’t been the liveliest your life has been in years. Maybe ever, really. “I can’t be selfish, you don’t get it.”

“You’d be surprised.” he says, abruptly. “Why did you follow me out here if you don’t want to know me?”

“Because you asked me to, you said you wanted to give me something…”

“You could have said no. Do you always do what people tell you? You wanted to. I wanted you to. And now you’re here, you have my number. If you want to be selfish… you know where I am.”

“I don’t—” you sigh, shivering aggressively before you push his card back into his chest. “I don’t need this.”

He grabs your wrist hellbent on sending you away with this one little piece of the puzzle of his life. A way to talk to him again if you change your mind. He’s giving you access, he wants you to take it, desperately.

He crouches down, levelling his head with your own so his one, uncovered eye is levelled with yours. He can’t help but smile, it’s almost maniacal, as he watches your resolve falter under his glare.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, kid.” he grins. “And you’re not all that smart, for a doctor.”

Your face burns with heat. And you can’t tell if it’s rage or lust. Do you want to kiss him or kill him? You don’t know, you don’t know. His smile grows wider as he realises what he’s done to you. Your faces are so close to each other and this time you can’t will yourself to turn away. You can’t submit, not after this.

“I’m smarter than you.” is all you can think to say. It feels pathetic and phoned in. And he reads it, too, by the ever-growing look of amusement on his face.

“I don’t doubt that.” he nods. “What’s got you all hot ‘n bothered, hm? ‘Cause I called you a dumb li’l doctor? Or ‘cause daddy, called you kid?”

You feel your face sear further. So much so you can even detect each and every drop of sweat beading at your hairline. You’d forgotten it was freezing outside, instead trying to find a way to subtly cool yourself.

“You d-didn’t even call me dumb. I’m not.” you say, stuttering over yourself like a true idiot as you try and gain some semblance of composure through this agonising conversation.

He closes the already small distance between you, placing his hand on the small of your back and pulling you towards him. Your eyes flutter closed under his as he examines you. His head tilting and turning, forcing himself in your line of view.

“I am learning more about you. Should we fuck about it, sweetheart?”

“What are you—”

“Do I remind you of your old man, hah? I bet that’s it… was daddy never proud of you?” he chuckles darkly, carding his fingers through your hair as he stares down at you. “S’that why you like me, darlin?”

“Shut up.” you respond, voice meek and pathetic as you wrestle with your will and want. His fingers lace through your hair, delicately holding the crown of your head before you find yourself being pulled closer still. His lips ghost yours, and he’s a tease. He’s such a fucking tease.

“Got a thing for older guys who talk to you like shit… I see it. Get too much respect at your little doctor job all day. Do you like being talked down to, hm? No wonder you like a thug like me.”

“You don’t know what you’re— You d-don’t even know.”

“Yeah? I don’t?” he asks, his tone melodious and teasing. His head tilts back, the feel of his lips intensely teasing yours soon broken as he does. But you look up to him, eyes full of anguish and sorrow like a kicked puppy who doesn’t know what it wants. You hate him and the reason is clear.

You don’t hate him at all.

You just hate that he’s right.

“I think I’m right. I think you’ve got daddy issues, and you like it when I call you kid.” you turn away as he speaks. But almost as quickly as you do, he’s forcing you to look at him again. His ruby eye flaring, an expression all of its own. A warning, a look of command. A look of lust. “Am I right, baby? Is your little cunt soaked ‘cause I call you kid?”

“… I have to go.” you say, quietly.

“Sure.” he smirks.

A sense of déjà vu overwhelms you as you recognise in his smile that you’ve done this dance before. You can’t move and you can’t speak. There is no desire in you to leave him now and return to your home, your bed, like you should.

All you can do is stare. Your eyes fixated on the man who has just read you like a book. His amused expression doesn’t falter. He’s patient, surprisingly. You wouldn’t have painted him as a man with patience. But looking at him now, you know he’d be willing to wait all night if he had to. He’d wait for the sun to rise just to prove a point.

But he doesn’t need to.

You lunge forward, your hand cupping his face as you break the boiling tension between you and seal your acceptance with a scalding kiss.

He won.

He told you before, he doesn’t lose.

Your lips suctioning and pecking at his would make you embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate. He welcomes it, too, meeting yours with just as much urgency. He wraps his arms around your back as you slip your tongue between his lips, allowing them to tangle and swirl in a passionate encounter.

He chuckles into it as you curse. Curse him, curse his name. You can’t believe he’s reduced you to this, again. Your heart heaves in your chest, and you break away just to instruct him.

“Open the fucking back door.”

He laughs again, keeping hold of you as he guides you in a way he can carry on kissing you and still do as he’s told. He ducks in first, pulling you in with him right after. You grind your hips against his heavy bulge as he closes the door after you. He looks up to admire you, to adore you.

“You smeared your makeup like a fucking idiot so I wouldn’t fuck you,” he laughs. “And look at you, humping my cock like a desperate little pet.”

“Shiiiit, I forgot I’m a mess.” you sigh, though you don’t really care. You wrap your arms around his neck, keening as his heavy palms grip your thighs press you flush against his body. “This is the last time. I m-mean it.”

“Whatever you say, princess.” he says, smugly.

You dismiss it, too enamoured by the feeling of his bulge alone as you continue to grind down hard and purposefully onto him. He’s relaxed, allowing you to take the lead and go at your own pace.

It’s embarrassing, really, you’re not as experienced as he seems to be. He’s older. And you hate to admit it, wiser. When it comes to encounters such as this, anyway. You’re smart and well read, sure, but casual hook ups are foreign to you.

You’ll keep that to yourself for as long as you can, you can’t think of anything worse than giving Sukuna that little tidbit of information about you. That he is only the third guy you’ve fucked.

He hit the nail on the head back at the club, but you can’t let him know that.

“Let me feel.” he mutters. His hand holds your hip to keep you in place. Another snakes down into your sleep shorts, his mouth falls open with an amused chuckle as he touches you. “Still full’a me, baby. Bet I’ll slide right in.”

His fingers play with your pussy without any real goal. And still, it makes you delirious. He smears the evidence of your previous tryst around your folds, and he watches with conviction as his fingers circle your clit.

He withdraws them, briefly, to move your shorts into the crease of your thigh. You watch him, and he doesn’t take his eye off you, either. Your lower lip droops as you admire him. Truthfully, you’ve never been in the presence of someone so domineering as him. He is the true definition of a red-blooded male.

Sukuna is huge. In the literal sense, he is unnaturally tall. His build is enormous, his hand is larger than your face. But his aura alone is enough to fill an entire room with an ambience that he sees fit. He could instil fear into the minds of men just because he wills it.

Unfortunately for you, you are not immune to his will.

“You’re so pent up darlin’, you must work hard. Y’need to relax… no wonder you can’t keep your hands off me.” he says. It could be read as demeaning. You think it should be. And yet, you don’t detect any malice from him. He makes a show of spitting on his fingers, keeping eye contact with you as the ‘ptuh’ sound leaves his lips. It makes you shudder.

Though when he touches you with such purpose, so lewdly, a whine you never knew you could make leaves your lungs. He looks up at you like you hung every star in the sky as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. The ‘shlick’ suctioning sounds of your already tainted walls couldn’t possibly be any louder.

He sees how embarrassed you are, but he doesn’t care. Your nose crinkles and your eyes close softly. He curls his fingers and his palm flattens against your clit. And you cry out for him, lurching forward as you wrap your arms around his head rather than his neck. He’s surprised to see your hips rock against his touches, riding his fingers like it’s the only contact you’ve ever known.

His free hand reaches up to tug down your vest. His tongue is flat and wide as he sticks it out to lick your bare tits. He isn’t rough, he isn’t aggressive, he isn’t rushing. He sensually swirls his tongue over your nipples, breathing heavily on occasion before he kisses them. You whimper when he sporadically skims his teeth across them. There’s no bite. No effort. He just wants to hear you cry for him like that. It’s like his teeth are barely there, just enough that you know they are.

“Do you touch yourself?” he mumbles against your skin. You can’t bear to look at him after hearing that. You pretend you didn’t, moaning louder as a diversion. It’s fruitless, and apparently you aren’t a good actress. He yanks your hair and forces you to look at him. His fingers stop, and your body writhes from the loss. “Don’t do that again. Answer me.”

“S-Sukuna…” you fuss. The feeling of your building pleasure being torn away from you is making you stupid. It’s pathetic. And yet, in spite of how humiliating it is, you’re still rolling your hips in a bid to get the feeling back. His expression falters to one you can’t read. You think it’s annoyance, but it’s so detached and expressionless. You yelp as he withdraws his fingers completely, with no time to feel the loss when he grabs your face with his slick-coated hand.

“I want to know if you make your pretty pussy cum after a hard day at work.” he says calmly, a low rumble in his chest as the words roll plainly from his tongue. Your eye contact falters as you notice him pulling at his sweatpants in search of his aching length. “And I want you to show me how you touch her. So go on, answer my question.”

“I… I—” you stumble. You watch him intensely as he frees his throbbing cock. He wraps his fist around himself and lazily strokes. He still glares at your features. While you’re utterly captivated by his cock.

It looks so angry. Too pretty and perfect to be real, you think. But somehow, it is. You think he’d be better suited as a porn star than a criminal with an asset like that. He spends an extra second squeezing his length just below the tip when he strokes himself, it’s like he’s ringing all of the pre out that he can. It dribbles out of his slit, coating his tip the more he summons. It’s beguiling.

You suppose you hadn’t really had a chance to admire him back at the club. It was so heated and hasty. Now, it’s purposeful. You look at his face again when you realise this is what he wants. He wanted you to look at how he touches himself and how gorgeous his cock is. He wants you to see how big he is and how much he aches and throbs when he needs to be buried in a sweet little cunt.

He wants the memory of this to stain your mind.

“I d-don’t.” you confess. “Not much… I’m always tired. Busy.”

“Mhmm… I can tell.” he nods, his voice is somewhat sympathetic. “Come here, princess. Sit on it.”

His hand grips into your hip while he lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him, you don’t hesitate. You let him push you down, you eagerly suck him in. Your eyes roll back as you feel him swell through your walls. Even after taking him earlier, you’d forgotten how monstrous he feels inside. And this time, somehow, he feels bigger.

“Fu-uck,” you gasp as his tip immediately nudges at your sweet spot. You hold his shoulders and hope he’ll assist you. The thought of disappointing him makes you anxious. The idea of him knowing how inexperienced you really are makes you sick.

He throws his head back as your hole swallows him greedily. He looks at you through a heavy-lidded stare, and relief fills you as his hands grab the fat of your ass. You moan pathetically as he spreads them. But his ultimate goal is to bounce you on his cock. You feel weightless in his hands as he helps you. Each steep drop down onto his length makes your throat tight.

He's there.

You feel him there.

“Play with yourself, go on. Rub her f’me.” he says lethargically.

And your face feels like fire. The foreplay was gasoline and his command is a match. And yet, out of fear of him withholding pleasure from you again, you comply. Your hand slithers between your thighs and you do all you can to pretend you’re elsewhere.

You try and pretend you’re in your room, in your bed. What usually gets you going is a mildly heated scene from a movie or TV show. The sexual tension of an almost kiss makes your face flush, though a lot less than it is now. And you think it’s unbearable to witness sexual tension and not see any resolve, so you scamper to find a video online to suit your needs. Something quick and short as you reach into your nightstand to find your favourite toy.

The thought of being caught by your brother makes you sick so you have to be fast with it. The website you ordered it from assured the toy would be whisper quiet. And you can only hope it’s true. You don’t touch yourself, not without aid. And even then, it’s sparse. You haven’t rubbed your clit with your own fingers in years.

Years of being riled up and having a useless boyfriend who didn’t know what he was doing lead you to finishing yourself off each and every time. And you knew, the moment you got a job and your own income, you’d buy yourself a vibrator.

It’s hard to pretend Sukuna isn’t here, though. It’s hard to pretend you’re in your room with Netflix playing quietly enough in the background it can still cover the sound of soft core moaning from your phone while you vibrate yourself to completion.

Because his cock fills your each and every thought. Every sense you possess is dominated by him. The feel of him stretching you out beyond your limit and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. The sound of the sticky tacking of his length as he slams you up and down on his pulsing member.

Your vision alternates between his gorgeous gaze and the point where your bodies connect again and again. Your pussy gushes slick and the evidence of your prior combined coupling stains your inner thighs and his crotch.

The scent of your sex fills the car and the heat of your sweaty bodies exacerbates it. Your skin is damp, as is his. And it’s overwhelming. He groans into a chuckle as you moan louder and louder for him. If anyone happens to be awake at this ungodly hour, they’ll no doubt hear you. If anyone looks out of the window, they’ll see how the car rocks back and forth. It turns you on further. The tang of sweat and arousal filling the car. It makes you lightheaded.

“I can— fuck— c-can taste you, daddy…” you whine. He urges you to fall forward so he can kiss you. It forces you to take over, moving your hips on your own as you try and maintain your building pleasure. “You’re too big… can feel you in my throat, Sukuna… tastes so good.”

“Dirty fuckin’ girl.” he smirks, kissing you again. “You’re fuckin’ filthy. Not the good girl you pretend to be, hah?”

You nod, agreeing. He’s right, after all. You’re talking in a way you didn’t know you had in you. He takes over again, holding your rear so he can take full control of your body. He guides you repeatedly until your eyes cross from the pleasure. Your walls tighten, and your throat feels hoarse as you cry out for him.

“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, kid. Don’t be shy. Cum for daddy.” he encourages you.

You cry, at that. Falling forwards to envelop him in your arms as you come undone. He coos, sweetly, kissing your cheeks and licking away your tears. The feeling isn’t lost on you, the feeling of disgust. You’ve never felt happiness or value like you did just now. Realising how right he was about your issues and using them to subdue you.

Your pussy gushes and he moans further, chest roaring as he finally lets his sight drop to see what a pretty mess you’ve made of yourself.

Made of him.

Made for him.

He pushes his thumb into your clit and rubs quickly, further extending your pleasure through it all. You could just about cum again when you feel him shoot another load into you, his warmth filling your womb for the second time today. It makes you feel special. It makes you feel loved.

The very idea of it has you pushing yourself away from him desperately. But he holds you close. His moans are boisterous and uncaring. It’s loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood, you think. And at the very least, you’re sure Megumi will hear if he doesn’t have his headphones on.

His arms wrap tightly around your waist to keep you in place, his feet planted firmly on the floor of the car as he fucks himself into you. He’s sure to empty every last drop into your cunt, his balls slap against your ass as he ploughs into you furiously.

And when he stops, you freeze. You feel cold. You feel filthy.

He doesn’t discard you or try to kick you out. The opposite, really. He’s still holding you close, lightly peppering your chilled skin with kisses. Eventually stopping to rest his head on your chest. He feels you try to move away, but he only holds you tighter.

So you stop trying to leave. And instead, you run your fingers through his hair. He hums contently, at that. And you feel your heart pound harder, a little smile works its way onto your face.

Maybe he’s not so bad.

That thought alone makes you stop. He looks up at you, his stare soft and gentle as he wonders what made you halt your actions so abruptly. Before he can ask what’s wrong, you move to leave.

“I have to go, I really have to go now.” you say bluntly. He huffs, watching as you scramble to put your clothes back in place, clambering off him in a hurry. He doesn’t say anything in response. He watches as you scramble to open the door. Tears of panic begin to fall as you struggle to open it, you frantically pull and push as you try to get away. He leans over, and with little effort, he opens the door for you.

“Goodbye.” he says, simply.

“G-Goodbye.” you respond, ducking out and briskly walking to your front door.

You take a deep breath when you get there, preparing for the possibility that Megumi is about to greet you and bite your head off. Sukuna doesn’t move. He stays in the back seat and watches you with a sombre expression. With no inclination of what happened to change your mood, he can only assume he stepped out of line.

He doesn’t want to leave just yet. At least not until he knows you’re safely inside.

As you grab the handle of the door and push, your heart sinks.

“No, no, no… d-don’t do this to me now.” you sob, hysterically fiddling and pushing the door. You stupidly think that you just need to try harder and it will open. But no such thing comes to pass. You’ve locked yourself out.

Sukuna sits upright when he realises, watching as you slowly turn to look at him. His hand folds, gesturing for you to come closer. And with no other option, you do. Your phone is inside as well as your car keys. You can’t text Megumi to tell him what you’ve done. And even if you could, he’d only come outside to see that you’ve let him down. Again.

“Silly girl.” he says, looking at you with a weak smile when you finally approach. You duck down to look at him, not willing to get inside with him. “Do you want to come to my place? I’ll bring you back in the morning.” he suggests.

“I’m not fucking—”

“You can stay in a different room.” he answers your obvious assumption with a reasonable response. And still…

“N-No. I don’t want to go to your house.”

“Then I guess we’re sleeping in the car. Come on.” he sighs. He waits until you get in, begrudgingly, and then gets out himself. You watch him as he circles to the trunk of his car, looking ahead at your home as you wait for him to return. And he does, with a large, fur blanket.

“Why do you have this?” you wonder.

“I don’t remember. You better not be complaining, sweetheart. You’re lucky I didn’t fuck off right after I came like I usually do. Especially after that little performance.”

“Performance?!” you yell. You position yourself as far away from him as you can in the confined space, sitting as closely to the door as you can. “You just don’t get it! At all.”

“You’ve made that clear, princess. Don’t worry. I’ll steer clear when you get back inside tomorrow. I’m too old to be playing stupid games with little girls who don’t know what they want.”

You huff, covering your legs with the blanket before folding your arms.

“I told you it was a mistake.” you correct him. “I told you I didn’t want to see you or do that again.”

“Shut up.” he shakes his head. “Just go to sleep and we’ll never have to see each other again. Because that’s what you want, yes?”

You pause before speaking. Images of his delicate expression in your arms haunt you. You’d overreacted because of your own cowardice. Because of a promise you evidently had no intention of keeping. It wasn’t a performance. It was just… fear.

“Yes.” you tell him. Your response is bold and scathing.

He doesn’t react, he merely shrugs, adjusting the blanket over his own legs, too. His arms cross over his chest, and his head rests against the window. You can’t see beyond his eye covering, but you assume his visible eye is closed.

You do the same, hoping you fall asleep sooner rather than later.

You’re wrong, though.

His eye is open wide, looking upwards to the light polluted sky. There are a few stars visible, three. He stares at them, thinking about the events of the evening. He hadn’t expected to end up fucking once tonight let alone twice. But when you walked into his club and tried to give him a piece of your mind, he knew.

He knew he’d have to have you.

And he hadn’t expected to be so lucky so have you again, like this. But he can’t put his finger on why things went so sour. It could be one thing or a number of things. He has ideas. He thinks your less complicated than you seem to think you are. You’re keeping him at arm’s length, and that, he understands.

He’s a stranger, but he doesn’t have to be.

He doesn’t want to be.

But what can he do?

He’ll just stare at the stars until he drifts off to sleep.

Maybe things will be different in the morning.

—

© 2024 rinhaler

—

chapter one | m.list (working on it) | chapter three

#🦋 — luxe writes #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu #jjk x fem!reader #tw blood #tw daddy kink #tw size difference #tw age gap #tw degradation #tw dacryphilia

[deliciousangelfestival]

Mission Dad

Character: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary: Bucky is just your average dad in his daughter's eyes. But deep down, she yearns for a father with more influence and power, like her friend's dad. Little does she know, Bucky is anything but ordinary.

Words Count: 3,712

Warning: Slightly bullying scene.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The midday sun streamed into the principal's office through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. Despite the abundance of light, the atmosphere inside remained heavy and gloomy.

"I’m sorry; it’s my mistake as a parent." You bowed your head to the people in front of you: two couples who wore formal suits, along with their teenage daughter, and the principal, who kept wiping the sweat from his head.

Your daughter, Faith, who stood beside you, clenched her fist. Her expression was ugly as she looked at her mother, apologizing and bowing to someone who didn’t deserve it. “Mom, don't apologize. it’s not even my fault.”

You glanced at her and nodded, assuring her that you didn’t feel hurt or offended.

Sabrina, your daughter's classmate, smirked at you and Faith. With her mouth silent, she told Faith, “You can’t win.”

“Yes. It’s just a small matter.” Roy, Sabrina's father and also a senator, patted his daughter's head. “I think this matter doesn’t have to go public, right?” He turned to the principal.

“That’s right.”

With that, the problem was solved. But the scar still felt fresh on Faith’s heart.

As you drove the car back home, the silence hung heavy between you and Faith. Then, unexpectedly, her voice broke the quiet. “Why did you marry dad?” Faith crossed her arms beside you, her tone tinged with a mix of curiosity and frustration.

Your eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by her question. You hadn't anticipated such a query from your daughter.

“Why did dad let you go alone and allow you to be humiliated?” Faith wiped the tears from her eyes, her voice trembling with emotion. The memory of you apologizing on her behalf still fresh in her mind.

You felt a pang of heartache seeing your daughter in distress. Today's events had revealed a truth you hadn't known before. The reason for your confrontation with Sabrina's parents was rooted in the bullying Faith had endured.

Faith had gathered evidence – recordings and screenshots of text messages – hoping it would be enough to put an end to the torment. But the power and influence wielded by Sabrina's family proved formidable.

With the evidence at hand, Faith had the potential to tarnish Sabrina's family name and derail her father's career as a senator.

Your fists clenched at the thought of Sabrina's cruelty towards your daughter. You wanted to scream, to exact some form of justice for Faith's pain. The urge to confront Sabrina and her allies gnawed at you, a primal instinct to protect your child at any cost.

But you held it in, knowing that today you didn't have the power to fight back. Another reason was because your husband wasn't here. Bucky Barnes had been gone for months for his job, a job so complicated that contacting him was nearly impossible.

You caressed Faith’s hair gently. “I'll try calling your father again.”

Faith sighed, her frustration evident. “He better answer, or else I'll find a better dad.”

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips despite the circumstances. “Honey, don’t joke like that. Your father is the only one in my heart.”

She pretended to gag, a playful gesture that reminded you of the teasing banter you shared as a family. Whenever Bucky returned home from his job, you would become lovesick teenagers, unable to keep your hands off each other.

******

Back at home, you glanced around to ensure no one was near before your hand slid open a secret shelf, revealing an old flip phone hidden within.

You dialed a number and waited anxiously until a voice finally answered, "Hello?"

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Steve, can you find him?"

“Not yet,” came the disappointing reply.

You sighed again, feeling the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "Alright, I’ll call you later."

Closing the phone, you rubbed your temples, the stress of the situation weighing heavily on your mind. Your daughter was right – you needed Bucky.

Just then, you heard heavy footsteps descending from the second floor. "Mom, I’m going out for a sec."

You glanced up in surprise, realizing Faith was already on the move. "Faith, we just arrived!" But it was too late – she had already slipped out the door.

******

Faith heard your voice, but she sprinted faster. She had caught the name "Uncle Steve" in your conversation, indicating that he might know where her dad was. They had been friends since childhood, and she trusted him.

Upon arriving at the coffee shop owned by Uncle Steve, she pushed open the glass door and was greeted with a warm "Welcome."

Steve was taken aback. "Faith?"

Approaching him, Faith cut to the chase. "Uncle, do you know where my dad is?"

Steve hesitated, struggling to find the right words. Eventually, he shook his head. "You know he has to travel all the time."

Faith rolled her eyes in frustration. "Yeah, cleaning up someone else's mess. He keeps saying that, but when there’s trouble at his own home, he's never there."

Sensing the tension, Steve tried to diffuse the situation. "Hold up, the topic is getting heavy. Let’s sit down." He gestured towards a nearby table, inviting Faith to sit and talk more calmly.

Steve offered Faith her favorite chocolate mint drink to cheer her up. Taking a sip, Faith felt a sense of calm wash over her. She grumbled and sighed, “I don’t understand why mother married my dad when she can’t depend on him.”

Steve widened his eyes in surprise. “Your dad would be heartbroken to hear that,” he said softly. Having a daughter could be both sweet and scary, he thought, realizing the impact of her words.

“But it’s true. I also found out that mother came from a well-known family. But she cut ties with them because she married dad,” Faith sighed, her gaze drifting to the café window. “I wish I had a powerful dad.”

Steve sighed sympathetically, picking up on Faith’s frustration, as well as your own from the last phone call. “What happened, Faith?”

As Faith recounted the events of the day, Steve listened intently, his expression growing increasingly enraged. “How dare they do that!” he exclaimed, slamming his fist onto the table, causing the café patrons to jump.

“There’s nothing I can do since her father is a senator,” Faith lamented.

After a moment of silence, Steve spoke firmly. “Faith, don’t worry. Your father will handle this.”

“But—” Faith began.

“It’s not my place to tell you. Believe in your father. He’s stronger and more powerful than you think.”

Faith couldn’t argue with her uncle’s words. “Fine,” she relented, grabbing her jacket. “I’ll go back.”

Steve wanted to offer her a ride home. “Let me drive you,” he suggested.

“No, it’s alright. I need some alone time. And it’s not far,” Faith declined.

Steve nodded understandingly. “Text me when you get home,” he urged.

“Okey dokey,” Faith replied before heading out of the café.

Back at home, you continued to wait anxiously for your daughter to return. Dinner time had long passed, and worry gnawed at your insides. You picked up the phone and dialed Steve. "Is Faith with you?" you asked urgently.

Steve's voice sounded grave on the other end. "She was, but she left around 4:50 p.m.," he replied.

Your heart sank. "Steve, she still hasn't come home," you exclaimed, panic rising in your chest.

Without hesitation, you jumped into your car and raced to Steve's café. He was waiting for you at the park nearby, his expression as pale as yours. You could see the worry etched on his face as you approached him, your breath coming in heavy gasps.

Coming closer, you noticed that Steve was holding Faith's smartwatch in his hand. The gravity of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks.

Faith had been kidnapped.

You panicked, struggling to catch your breath, and Steve steadied you with a reassuring hand on your back.

"I'll call for backup," Steve declared, his voice steady despite the urgency of the situation.

"I—" you began, but the sudden phone ring interrupted you both.

The familiar ringtone brought a wave of relief flooding over you. With trembling hands, you quickly accepted the call. "Bucky!"

"Honey, I'm sorry, I just got the chance to call you. I—" Bucky's voice sounded cheerful, relieved to hear his wife's voice again.

"Our daughter has been kidnapped!!!" you blurted out, the urgency in your tone cutting through the cheerful facade.

"Who dares lay a hand on our daughter?" Bucky's voice dripped with icy resolve, his tone sending shivers down your spine.

********

As Faith struggled to focus through her pounding headache, Sabrina's taunting voice cut through the dimly lit room.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Sabrina sneered, her eyes glinting with malice as she leaned in closer to Faith. "Did you have a nice nap, princess?"

Faith clenched her fists, her jaw set with determination despite her fear. "What do you want, Sabrina?" she managed to grit out, her voice trembling slightly.

Sabrina's laughter echoed off the grimy walls, sending shivers down Faith's spine. "Oh, just a little payback for ruining my life," she replied, her tone dripping with venom. "Thanks to you, my parents are furious with me. I'm grounded, all because of your little stunt."

Faith's heart sank as she realized the extent of Sabrina's anger. She knew she had caused trouble for Sabrina, but she never imagined it would lead to something like this.

Sabrina, sensing Faith's vulnerability, circled her like a predator closing in on its prey. "You think you're so smart, don't you?" she taunted, her voice laced with contempt. "Well, let's see how smart you really are when you're at my mercy."

Fear gnawed at Faith's insides as Sabrina's words sank in. She knew she was entirely at Sabrina's mercy, with no one to help her in this dark, desolate place. She braced herself for whatever torment Sabrina had in store, steeling herself for the trials ahead.

As Faith scanned the dimly lit room, her heart sank as she noticed an array of menacing tools laid out on the table. Were they planning to kill her? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her.

Sabrina's malicious grin widened as she picked up a baseball bat, swinging it menacingly a few times. The sound of the bat cutting through the air sent a chill down Faith's spine, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

Closing her eyes tightly, Faith began to pray silently, her mind racing with desperate pleas for someone to come to her rescue.

With an evil smile stretching across her face, Sabrina walked menacingly closer to Faith, raising the baseball bat higher with each step. Faith could feel the weight of impending doom settling over her like a heavy blanket. She wished she had stayed home with you, safe and sound. She longed to see her father, to feel his reassuring presence beside her.

"Dad, help me," she whispered desperately, her voice barely audible amidst the tension of the moment.

"I'm here," a deep voice rumbled through the darkness, sending a surge of hope coursing through Faith's veins. Could it be? Was it truly her father?

"I'm sorry I'm late," the voice continued, each word like a beacon of light cutting through the darkness.

For a moment, Faith couldn't believe her ears. Was she in heaven? But then, a second time, the voice pierced through the silence, more tangible than ever. "Dad!!!" she exclaimed, her eyes snapping open.

Standing tall and imposing in front of her was Bucky, her father. He stood alone but radiated a sense of power and strength that dwarfed everyone else in the room. With a swift motion, he halted Sabrina's advancing bat, leaving her stunned and speechless.

Sabrina had always thought her father, Roy, was intimidating, but the aura of power emanating from Bucky now was on a whole other level. She could sense a palpable bloodlust emanating from him, a primal energy that seemed to course through his veins.

With a voice that trembled with fear, Sabrina managed to stammer out, "Who... who are you?"

Bucky's gaze bore into Sabrina with an intensity that made her shrink back instinctively. "I'm Faith's father," he declared, his voice low and commanding. "And now, I'm going to teach all of you a lesson."

*******

At the grand mansion, Roy lounged in his armchair, swirling his wine glass thoughtfully as he gazed into the crackling fireplace.

The sudden ringing of his phone shattered the tranquility of the moment. "Hello?" he answered, his voice laced with annoyance at the interruption.

"Dad!!!" Sabrina's panicked voice came through the line, causing Roy to furrow his brow in confusion.

"Why are you screaming like a crazy person?" he retorted, holding the phone slightly away from his ear.

"Someone tried to kill me!!!" Sabrina's voice trembled with fear, sending a chill down Roy's spine.

"Stop being dramatic," he scoffed dismissively, though a flicker of concern flashed in his eyes.

"She's right," a new voice interrupted, sending a shiver down Roy's spine.

"And who is this?" Roy demanded, his grip on the phone tightening.

"Your nightmare. And you're next," came the chilling response, causing Roy's blood to run cold.

"Tsk. Empty threat," Roy scoffed, though his voice wavered slightly with uncertainty.

"No, Dad. He's serious. Call all the bodyguards!!!" Sabrina's urgency cut through the air, leaving Roy no choice but to take her warning seriously.

Roy wasted no time in taking action. He swiftly dialed his secretary's number, his expression tense with determination as he issued his orders.

"Get ready for an intruder," he commanded tersely, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Call in all the bodyguards. I want the mansion secured from every angle. Do whatever it takes to protect us."

As he spoke, Roy's gaze remained fixed on the flickering flames of the fireplace, his mind racing with thoughts of the potential threat looming outside.

*******

As the night wore on, tension hung thick in the air of Roy's mansion. The threat from the mysterious voice had put everyone on edge, and they remained vigilant, acutely aware of any unusual sounds or movements.

"Good. Let that kid stay there for a while. She only brings trouble," Roy remarked, his voice tinged with bitterness as he spoke of Sabrina's misfortune.

"Who tried to hurt us?" Roy's question hung heavy in the room, unanswered and unsettling.

His wife, equally on edge, offered her own speculation. "Do you think it's the Barnes?"

Roy pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing with concern. "Impossible. I looked it up. Barnes is just a nobody."

But even as he spoke the words, doubt gnawed at him. Could he be wrong? Was there more to the Barnes family than he had initially assumed?

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the house turned eerily quiet. Too quiet.

Then, piercing through the silence, came the sound of screams echoing through the halls. "AARGH!"

"BANG! BANG! BANG!" The sharp cracks of gunfire reverberated through the air, sending shockwaves of fear through the inhabitants of the mansion.

"What the fuck is going on?" Roy demanded, his voice rising with a mixture of confusion and alarm.

"Are we going to be safe?" His wife's voice trembled with uncertainty, her eyes wide with fear.

"Don't worry, the bodyguards in this room with us are former special ops," Roy reassured, though the tension in his voice betrayed his own anxiety.

One of the bodyguards stepped forward, his posture firm and resolute. "It's alright, ma'am. We can handle this," he assured, his words instilling a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.

The door swung open, revealing just one figure standing in the doorway.

As the bodyguard moved to intercept him, Bucky strode forward confidently, his eyes fixed on Roy. "You have to stop before you get hurt," the bodyguard warned, his voice tinged with concern.

But Bucky paid no heed to the warning. With a swift motion, he grabbed the bodyguard's hand and effortlessly snapped it, causing him to curse in pain.

"Shit!" the bodyguard exclaimed, clutching his injured hand as Bucky swiftly took down the rest of the security detail with brutal efficiency.

The bodyguard, his eyes wide with shock, leaned in to whisper to his friend. "Do you think it's him? The lunatic?"

His friend's expression mirrored his own disbelief as he muttered back, "Shit. You're right."

Their hushed conversation carried a sense of unease as they watched Bucky's brutal efficiency in dispatching their colleagues, leaving them wondering if they were genuinely facing the infamous lunatic they had heard whispers about.

With blood streaked across his face, Bucky closed in on Roy, who tensed, assuming a defensive stance. "So you're strong, huh?" Roy challenged, his fists clenched as he prepared for a fight. "I was in the military too. Which special force are you from?"

"Black ops," Bucky replied curtly, his words sending a chill down Roy's spine.

Before Roy could react, Bucky unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks, each blow landing with deadly accuracy. Roy staggered backward under the onslaught, his face contorted with pain as he struggled to defend himself against Bucky's relentless assault.

Roy, already on the floor, bloodied and battered, pleaded desperately, "Wait. Wait!!! Are you Faith's father? The problem between our daughters is done. And this morning your wife also agreed to it. They're just kids."

Bucky laughed darkly, the sound chilling to the bone. "My wife gave you a last chance. But your daughter blew it," he spat out, his voice dripping with disdain.

The words "just kids" rang hollow in Bucky's ears as he thought of Faith, bruised and battered, her innocence shattered by the cruelty of others.

His heart ached at the memory, and he felt a surge of anger and helplessness wash over him.

Roy's eyes blazed with fury as he struggled to rise. "Who do you think you are? You're just a fucking nobody. I'm a senator. Even if you raze my house to the ground, tomorrow you'll be sleeping in jail. Along with your wife and kid," he declared, his voice trembling with rage and defiance.

"Oh, so you're that powerful, huh?" Bucky sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he looked down at Roy.

"I'm that powerful, you son of a bitch," Roy shot back defiantly, his voice strained with anger and frustration.

With a cold smirk, Bucky reached for his old flip phone, his fingers moving with calculated precision as he dialed a number. "Senator Roy? You know him? Yeah, that one. Could you erase him? Thanks," he said casually into the phone before ending the call.

Roy's eyes widened in horror as he realized the gravity of the situation. "You..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the words to convey his disbelief and fear.

But Bucky wasn't finished yet. With a swift motion, he snatched Roy's phone from his trembling hands and quickly scrolled through the contacts. Finding the name he was looking for, he dialed the number without hesitation.

"Call him. Tell him there's a lunatic who wants to kill you," Bucky commanded, his voice cold and unyielding as he handed the phone back to Roy.

Roy's hands shook as he brought the phone to his ear, his heart pounding with dread. "Hello?"

"Commissioner!! There's a lunatic trying to kill me, he's hurt my daughter," Roy screamed into the phone, desperation and fear lacing his words.

But to his horror, all he heard in response was a calm voice saying, "I'm sorry, you've got the wrong number."

"What?" Roy's voice cracked with disbelief, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at the phone in trembling hands.

"Who are you? You're just a guy from a cleaning company." Roy looked up at Bucky, dis, belief etched across his bloodied face.

"You messed with the wrong daughter," Bucky replied coolly, his voice dripping with a quiet menace.

Bucky Barnes, known by the nickname "Cleaning Service," earned his moniker through his unparalleled expertise in handling the toughest missions in black ops. With hundreds of missions under his belt, not a single one had ever failed. His reputation as a lunatic preceded him, but he wore the label with indifference on the field.

However, when it came to his family, especially his daughter Faith, Bucky preferred to shed his tough exterior and play the role of a regular dad. He didn't want to frighten her with tales of his dangerous exploits; instead, he chose to shield her from the harsh realities of his profession.

But now, as danger loomed closer to home, Bucky realized that pretending to be someone he wasn't no longer served him or his family. It was time to embrace his true self and unleash the full extent of his capabilities to protect those he loved.

Before Roy could react, Bucky delivered a devastating punch that sent him crashing to the ground, unconscious.

*******

As Bucky stepped out of the mansion, a cry of relief and joy erupted from both you and Faith.

"Bucky!" you exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace him.

"Dad!" Faith called out, her voice choked with emotion as she joined in the hug.

Steve watched the heartwarming family reunion scene unfold before him, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips, especially with the backdrop of the burning house behind them.

Bucky held his daughter close, his arms wrapping protectively around her. "I'm sorry. I let you and your mother get hurt," he murmured softly, his voice filled with remorse.

Faith shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "No, Dad. You're not late. You're so cool," she reassured him, her words filled with love and admiration.

Bucky smiled, a rare warmth spreading across his features as he looked down at his daughter. "Thank you," he said softly before gazing at you. Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'm back.I will never let anyone else underestimate us ever again," he whispered, his voice filled with determination and love.

Taglist:

@bagoffeelings

@darkofimagination

@starsofcloud

@cherrybubblebullet

@winterslove1917

@thezombieprostitute

@xcaptain-winterx

@namoreno

@sagebarness

@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden

@unaxv

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@hopeful-daydreaming

@freshlemontea

@eat-limes-bitches

@kandis-mom

@scott-loki-barnes

@winters1917

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@arunabraganza

@ordelixx

@vicmc624

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife

@mostlymarvelgirl

@musicandbooksaremyhappyplace

@buckybarnessimpp

@charmedbysarge

@almosttoopizza

@sapphirebarnes

@daddysfavoritesexkitten

@rebeccapineapple

@cjand10

@pigeonmama

@almosttoopizza

@thesarcasmqueen-22

@cakesandtom

@ficrecsbyellie

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barns x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #dad!bucky #husband!bucky #sebastian stan character

[ikusayu-no-hana]

, everything aside,,,,

#truth be told i was a little taken aback on seeing there would be another actor for kasen #my mind immediately went 'OH wadakuma is being replaced' but i was still happy it was kai-chan bc if anyone can #depict kasen as faithfully as kuma hinself its definitely her. shes seen everything all of his pain how he carries himself forward etc #i mean I definitely Thought and to some extent had accepted that perhaps sutes kasens journey might end here #i mean hes got his kiwame and everything right? and suemitsu san did say he wanted go wrap up yoden before #suzuhiro and makki get too old. so i assumed maybe that applied to wadakuma too whos pushing 40 #soooo yeah. when i saw the takarazka cast for kasen & kara i thought .....yknow. maybe todays performance really was the end #maybe kuma wouldnt play kasen again #on hold on . cry break #ok. ok . thats the most painful thought ive ever had. ive grown too attached to him and his kasen #i dont think truly i dont that id be able to see a day where he's not kasen anymore yknow? nhes literally kasen #fhshdndnsk the tears keeo coming⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️ #howd i get so attached to something without even knowing it for a full year lol #<-the lol is like a bandaid slapped over a shattered bone #of course id love to see other kasen adaptations im always down for that. forever and ever. #but inmy heart wadakasen will forever be irreplaceable. the truest kasen. the others will have pieces of him in them but they wont be him #kai-chan....i trust you fully. kasen has loved you and lamented over you and travelled far and wide because of you. #and now youre going to take over his mantle as well now & i totaly understand how the expectations must be crushing #ill be supporting you allthe way to the end !!!!!

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

I Can See You | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Penelope's best friend comes to help out the BAU on a couple of cases, there's an immediate connection with the youngest of the team. After longing glances, soft touches and wild fantasies, the truth comes out accidentally. What is the resident genius going to do with that information?

Warnings: mention of serial killers and bombings, inappropriate thoughts

Author's note: I've wanted to write this one every single time I listened to the song but when @pastanest wrote it first, I was scared to do it too because that one is just too good (read it here)!! Anyways, hope y'all like this one, too :)

Words: 3K

Being Penelope Garcia’s best friend came with a lot of perks. Aside from it being impossible to ever be sad around her, it also came with the perk of doing the odd job at Quantico. We had met during her days as the Black Queen online and ever since, she had taught me all she knew about hacking and tech analysis. While she worked for the FBI, I worked across the yard at the Capitol as tech support. 

Her job was a little more tantalizing – sometimes more traumatizing – than mine. While I simply helped the employees with their technical issues, Penelope actually helped save people. 

And sometimes, she called for my help with a case whenever she figured everything would go so much faster with some helping hands and flexible fingers. 

The first time she had called me on a case, I didn’t even know what I was in for. She just told me to get to Quantico as soon as I possibly could, that it was a matter of life and death. So, I packed everything up, and rushed across the street to the FBI building. I didn’t even bother to tell my boss. I was certain Penelope’s boss would vouch for me and get me out of trouble, even though I had  never met him. 

“Thank you so much for coming, y/n/n,” said Penelope as she took me into a hug as soon as I burst through the front doors and into the hallway. 

“Penny, what’s happening? Are you okay?” I asked and held her at a short distance to inspect her for any injuries. 

She waved away my question. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said and grabbed my hand to drag me towards reception where I had to register. It wasn’t until after my bag had been inspected and I passed through security that she started to explain what was happening. “We’re working on this really tough case and though my dainty fingers are quick at tip tapping away on the keyboard, I’m gonna need your genius to get me the answers twice as fast.” 

On the way up to the sixth floor, she briefed me about the case, just so I was up to speed before we actually started. I was too distracted listening to her rambles that I didn’t even notice another person rushing through the hallway on our way from the elevators to her office. 

My shoulder bumped into theirs, causing me to stumble ever so slightly, but firm hands on my shoulders kept me from actually falling. “Oof, sorry!” The both of us apologized at the same time. 

What I didn’t expect to happen when I looked up at the person was being so taken aback by the beautiful pair of eyes that locked onto mine. The hazel orbs had tiny gold specks in them, making them look almost honey-colored. 

I was so distracted by his eyes, I didn’t catch Penelope’s mischievous smirk she would only get whenever she had expertly set me up with someone when we were out at a bar or a party. 

“Y/N/N, this is my wonderful colleague and resident genius, Spencer Reid. Reid, this is my almost-as-sexy-and-smart-as-me best friend, y/n y/l/n,” she introduced us as the guy – Spencer – retracted his hands from my shoulders, convinced I was steady enough on my feet. 

He offered me a smile that nearly wiped me off my feet again. “Hi, nice to meet you.” 

My lips curled into a smile that mirrored his. He didn’t offer his hand to shake, so I decided not to offer mine, either. “Ditto, Spencer,” I said instead, unable to tear my eyes away from his. 

“Okay,” Penelope then interrupted, “Enough chit-chat. We gotta go!” As I managed a quick wave at Spencer, my best friend pulled me along to her office where we settled behind her computer screens. While she explained how her system worked, my mind involuntarily drifted off to the disarming genius I met in the hallway. 

For hours, Penelope and I worked on the case together, taking turns in getting drinks and food to keep us nutritioned. We were discussing a list of potential UnSubs after we had finished our lunch and I was chewing on the straw of my Sprite when Spencer burst into the room. 

“Garcia, y/l/n, I’ve got something to narrow the search,” he said, causing my heart to flutter at how my last name sounded from his lips. He leaned between us, placing a piece of paper on the desk. His stomach was pressed against my shoulder whilst his arm brushed mine. 

A chill ran down my spine, but I remained poised, trying to be professional. “Those are the places he went to in the last twenty-four hours?” I asked, deducting the theory from the map in front of me. 

Spencer had drawn lines across the map, connecting at least five dots. “Uh-huh,” he hummed, then leaned in closer, his face right next to mine. “We were able to get these locations from the GPS of the rental car he used and ditched at the last murder site.” 

His breath felt hot against my skin, but it didn’t stop me from starting to tap away on the keyboard, trying to find any CCTV footage from any of the establishments in the neighborhood of those locations. Within seconds, I’d found some footage from a service station where the UnSub was seen leaving the shop. 

“Was this what you needed?” I asked sassily and turned my head to look at him. He was a lot closer than I anticipated him to be, my nose nearly grazed his cheek. Even up close he was pretty. 

He stood up straight again, much to my dismay, and offered me a shy smile. “Only if you can give me a name, too,” he told me. 

Raising my eyebrows challengingly, I turned back to the computer and ran the footage through Penelope’s software. Within seconds, I found a name, his age and address, which was someone on the list of suspects Penelope and I had been looking at for the past ten minutes. 

“Can you send that to the team?” he asked as he took out his phone, already dialing one of the team’s numbers. 

“Already did, pretty boy,” I smirked and watched as he walked away with a quick ‘thank you’ thrown over his shoulder towards us. When I turned back to Penelope, she looked at me with that teasing look she would only ever give me when she was about to give me shit. “What?” I asked. 

“Nothing,” she sang, though her face said something else entirely. 

I didn’t feel like getting into it. It wasn’t like I was going to see Spencer again. This was a one-time thing. Or at least, that was what I thought. It wasn’t until Penelope called me two weeks later with the same request. Even then I managed to stay somewhat professional around Spencer. 

But they didn’t leave it at two times. At least five more cases, I was asked to help Penelope out on. It didn’t bother me, at all. In fact, I actually enjoyed helping the BAU team on their cases. It gave me the opportunity to work together with my very best friend as well as secretly flirt with the young doctor. And, you know, learn something new and everything.

Every time I saw him, I could just imagine him pushing me against a wall and kissing me senseless. Every brush of the arm, every longing gaze we directed to one another. It all drove me completely insane, but there was not much I could do about it but sit back and act as professional as I possibly could. 

When we finished case number five, I was packing up my stuff and exited Penelope’s lair. My mind was still racing with the images I had seen about this gruesome case, but all of it seemingly cleared up when my eyes landed on the person standing at the very end of the hallway. 

“Oh, hi, Spencer,” I greeted with a smile as I approached him. 

He offered me that same knee-buckling smile. “Hi, y/n. I wanted to-uh, I wanted to check up on you. See if you were doing all right?” 

I wanted to push him against the wall and kiss his jaw. That man was the most considerate person alive and it was absolutely turning me on. Coughing, I recomposed myself. I couldn’t act upon these feelings building inside of me. 

“I am,” I said. “Though, I got to admit, this last case was a whole lot more brutal than the previous ones I helped on. It’s gonna haunt me for days.” I let out a chuckle, taking my eyes off him for a second. 

Spencer hummed. “Yeah, it, uh, it takes a while to get used to it.” 

“Do you ever get used to that?” 

Chuckling, Spencer shook his head. “No, not really…” 

A chuckle rolled off my lips too and for a moment, the two of us fell silent. It was a comfortable silence with the two of us just gazing into each other’s eyes as if we were under a spell. I knew that if I didn’t break eye contact, I would actually kiss him. 

“I, uh, I’m gonna go home,” I told him and finally tore my gaze off him. 

“Right,” he mumbled and turned towards the elevator. “You-uh, you want me to walk you to your car?” 

Eyes widening, I almost immediately let out a sharp, “No!” The moment he and I would’ve stepped out together, I would’ve jumped his bones. I coughed to recompose myself again. “No, I’m okay,” I repeated, softer this time. 

“Oh, okay,” Spencer nodded and stepped aside. “Well, I’ll, uh… I’ll see you another time then?” 

I offered him a smile. “Yeah, see you next time.” 

From the second I left the BAU, Spencer occupied my mind for the foreseeable future. Every corner I turned, every meal I had, every day I worked at my regular day job at the Capitol,... Spencer had taken over my mind and every fiber of my being. 

It had been a good week since I had last seen the BAU team, since I had last spoken to Spencer. I couldn’t focus at all. He was all I could think about to the point where I couldn’t even properly function. I had to do something about it. Even if it was just getting that feeling of frustration off my chest. 

That was why I had marched my way over to the BAU, went through the protocol at FBI security and clipped on my Visitor’s badge before trudging down to Penelope’s lair where I burst through the door without even knocking. She had given me the code to get in, so I didn’t have to knock. 

“Y/N? What are you–”

I ignored her and plopped down on the sofa with a groan. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Penny,” I told her defeatedly, resting my head back against the back of the sofa and looking up at the ceiling. 

“About what?” she asked. 

“Spencer, of course.” I didn’t catch Penelope’s wide-eyed look as I continued my tirade. “Unfortunately, I need him in a way that will defy the laws of space and time and set feminism back seventy years.” Rubbing my hands over my face, I rolled my head back to look at my best friend, who hadn’t given her unsolicited opinion immediately like she always did. 

That was when I saw the look of horror on her face. “Sugar plum,” she started, “Don’t be mad but…” My eyes landed on the device with the blinking red light behind her. She had been on a call and I could all but guess who was on that call. 

“No,” I muttered, my heart plummeting to my stomach and my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Don’t tell me –” 

Penelope pressed a button, putting her coworkers on speaker rather than through her headset. All I could hear was Derek’s and Emily’s giggles. “Wow, y/n,” came JJ’s voice, a bemused lilt in her tone. “I did not expect that coming from you.” 

I squeezed my eyes shut before rushing forward and pressing what I thought to be the mute button. “Why didn’t you mute us as soon as I came in?” I asked before starting to pace the length of the room, but didn’t give Penelope the chance to answer. “Now everyone knows and to make it all worse – Spencer now knows.” 

“Oh, mama, it’s not like we didn’t already know,” came Morgan’s voice through hiccups of laughter. 

“PENELOPE!” I screeched, realizing I hadn’t pressed the right button. 

With a simple shrug, Penelope turned to me. “Maybe it’s not so bad?” she tried and I just groaned in frustration before turning on my heel and leaving her lair. Now I had to debate whether to wait for Spencer to come back and explain everything to him or to just go home and never show my face here again. 

There wasn’t much of a chance for me to think about it because the team quickly filed back into the offices. As soon as my eyes landed on Spencer, I froze. Our eyes met and I could tell he wanted to tell me something, but there was a serial bomber to catch. Rather than leaving and going home, I decided to stick around and help Penelope. 

But before I could head over to Penelope’s lair, it was impossible to avoid the other’s relentless comments. Through a sea of giggles and quoting of what I had said to Penelope in confidence, I made my way through the bullpen, rolling my eyes. 

“I’m gonna get a cup of tea,” I told Penelope, getting up from my seat in her lair. “You want one?” 

“Yes, please, sugar,” she answered without taking her eyes off her screen. 

With a chuckle, I left the office and made my way to the break room where I put on the kettle for two cups of tea. While I busied myself picking out a flavor, my mind drifted off to what I could possibly say to Spencer if I ever got the chance. 

“Oh,” I heard the mumble behind me and when I turned around, I found Spencer in the doorway. “Hi.” He smiled a little awkwardly before making his way to the coffee pot. 

I returned the gesture. “Hi.” 

My eyes were trained on him while he poured the coffee and scribbled something down on a notepad beside him. My mind filtered through every possible word combination possible. I was so distracted, the click of the kettle turning off startled me. 

As I poured the hot water into two cups, Spencer placed a folded piece of paper in front of me on the counter and scurried away before I could possibly react. Curiosity rising within me, I unfolded the piece of paper, only to find “Meet me tonight” written in his scrawny handwriting. 

“That’s not vague at all,” I scoffed before pocketing it and continuing making the tea. Once the teabags were in, I made my way back to Penelope’s office, but not without one last glance at Spencer in the bullpen. Together with Derek and Emily, he was bent over a file on Emily’s desk. 

He seemingly felt my eyes on him as he, too, looked at me. Feeling my cheeks heat up underneath his gaze, I quickly looked away and rushed towards my best friend. I leaned my back against the door as soon as I shut it, trying to catch my breath. 

“What’s gotten into you, pumpkin?” Penelope asked when she saw the state of me. 

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, annoyed at myself that I let a man make me feel this way. “Not Spencer, unfortunately.” My best friend let out a loud cackle. “He gave me this note–” I placed her octopus mug in front of her before handing her the note. 

“That’s vague,” she mumbled, her brows furrowed. 

“Exactly what I thought,” I grumbled. “He was gone before I could even ask.” 

Penelope tsked before patting the chair that had been mine for the last couple of weeks. With a sigh, I plopped down carefully so as to not spill my hot tea. For the next hour, I tried to focus on the case more than on Spencer and what I was going to say to him. 

However, it was hard not to think about him. 

So, once the case was wrapped up, I packed up my stuff and went out to the hall where Spencer had waited for me merely a week ago. I didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Penelope as I would be seeing her soon anyway and she knew I had to do what I had to do. 

It took a couple of minutes before Spencer walked out of the bullpen, eyes focused on the phone in his hand. 

“‘Meet me tonight’?” I asked, capturing his attention. His honey eyes met mine, his lips twitching into a smile. “Could you be any more vague?” 

“Sorry,” he chuckled and chucked his phone into his pocket again. “I just–” he sighed, unable to finish his sentence. Another soft laugh rolled off his lips as he looked down to the squeaky-clean floor of the FBI Headquarters. He looked back up at me, his eyes tender and searching for something I didn’t even know. 

“What?”

Not even bothering to answer my question, Spencer grabbed my hand and tugged me into the closest room, which happened to be the family room. As soon as the door was shut, he pushed me against the wall by kissing me, his hands on my hips to hold me in place. 

“Does this set feminism back seventy years?” he asked between kisses to my lips and jaw. 

My toes curled and my stomach fluttered. This was all I had been dreaming of ever since I met him that first day. I had wanted him flush against me, fingers tangling up in my hair and his tongue warm against mine. 

“No,” I breathed while he worked his way down my neck in open-mouthed kisses. “But it does defy the laws of space and time.” 

The words seemingly set something animalistically off in Spencer as his kisses became hungrier and his hands roamed my body in ways I had never been touched before. He gave me enough to brag to Penelope about the next day. 

He gave me everything I had been dreaming of. 

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty@littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeeee @unnowhatthisistbhbh

Criminal Minds Taglist: @boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks@tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds

[blakeswritingimagines]

Cuddling them out of nowhere

Ragnar: He reacts by being pleasantly surprised and appreciative that you felt such an urge to be close to him. He will wrap his arms around you and bring you closer, stroking your hair and face, and returning the kisses you give. Perhaps he will nuzzle his face into your neck and breathe in your scent, or whisper to you that he loves you, and kiss you again passionately.

Athelstan: Well he would be rather bewildered and taken unawares, but happy nonetheless. You have just shown him love in a sweet and tender way, so how could he not appreciate such a thing? Cuddling, even unexpected, is a beautiful thing. He would return the favor in spades.

Floki: It depends on his relationship with the person. If he is in a romantic relationship with you, he will enjoy the affection and intimacy of the cuddling. It would be a very sweet and intimate moment between you both, and he would appreciate it. However, if it is not a romantic partner, he would most likely be irritated by the unwarranted physical contact and would ask them to stop.

Lagertha: She's a bit startled at first. She's not a very touchy person, so to be taken by surprise and be cuddled is unexpected. It feels good though, comforting. She gives the same physical affection you have just given her, but she also leans over and whispers something in your ear. Something along the lines of "I can't believe how lucky I am to have you". It's important to her to remind you how much you mean to her, even in the little moments.

Aslaug: When you cuddle her out of nowhere, she can't help but be touched. It's a very sweet and gentle gesture, often done with no expectations and simply as a show of affection. The act itself can be very soothing and calming, a small reminder that you are cared for, safe, and loved. Whether they are a partner, a spouse, a loved one, or even just a platonic friend, receiving such warmth and comfort from another human being is a truly remarkable thing. So, the next time you cuddle her out of nowhere, she just treasures it.

Bjorn: Out of nowhere, he might be startled. But he would also be intrigued, a little excited. As he turned to see who was the source of this surprise cuddle he would take note of your scent, and look you up and down. Taking in your soft skin, smooth curves, facial and body language. Perhaps you looked a bit nervous. He would begin to gently return the affection, enjoying the warmth of your body pressing against his. He would also be a little surprised. Did this have some sort of ulterior motive or were you just being sweet and affectionate?

Ubbe: Cuddling is the highest form of love and acceptance, so it only brings joy and contentment into his heart. When he is embraced by the love of his life, whether it be in a gentle cuddle or a passionate embrace, he is reminded that all is well, and all will be well. He is truly a blessed man to have such a loving and devoted person in his life.

Hvitserk: He feels his blood quicken, his heart beat faster, and his body tingle. His hands tighten around your body and he pulls you closer, breathing deep and smelling the scent of your hair. He feels a warm and happy sensation in his chest as you show your affections. He would then pull you to him and begin a warm embrace that he would never want to leave.

Sigurd: Surprised, but touched. He's never been overly physically affectionate with his partners, but he's never been in an honest relationship either. To have someone truly, genuinely care about him like that would be… well it's a new experience, certainly.

Ivar: He'd react with shock and surprise. Cuddling is a show of emotion and it would take him aback, he is not used to physical displays of affection. His first instinct might be to swat away whatever's trying to cuddle him like it's an annoyance or an insect, but then he would recognize your intent and attempt to embrace you back.

Halfdan: He is not a man to show his emotions. But truth be told it brings him great joy, and in those moments where he feels his lover's warmth and comfort he feels complete. He's not someone who shows their affections much, but those are the moments when he feels at his most vulnerable.

Harald: It would depend on how he's feeling at the time. Cuddling is, in general, a pleasant experience. However, if you were to catch him whilst he was contemplating an important decision or pondering a particularly difficult puzzle, he might not feel the same way. In such a situation, the interruption could be frustrating. If he was feeling tired, the cuddling may be welcome. If he was feeling stressed, the unexpected contact might add to that. If he was feeling happy and content, the cuddling may be welcome. The outcome would vary depending on his present mood.

#ragnar lothbrok x reader #athelstan x reader #floki x reader #lagertha x reader #aslaug x reader #bjorn ironside x reader #ubbe x reader #hvitserk x reader #sigurd x reader #ivar x reader #halfdan x reader #harald x reader #vikings

[skybluewritings]

Last Summer Part 2, Felix Catton x Fem!reader

word count: 2K

Masterlist

She would be staying with the Cattons for a month then return home a couple days before her flight to finish packing and give her tearful goodbyes. She paused the track on her iPod when she saw him pulling up to the station. Felix had insisted on coming himself to collect her despite her insistence that she was happy order a taxi.

The car came to a stop, she picked up the handle of her suitcase and walk down the steps of the station. Felix got out of his car, despite having seen each other only a week ago she couldn’t contain the rush of joy that seeing him brought. Her suitcase was momentarily discarded, she squealed as she flung her arms around his neck. His arms wound around her waist, he laughed as he lifted her a little. The wood and spice smell of his aftershave was intoxicating.

Once he had set her down she unwrapped her arms from his neck, grinning up at him. She glanced down noticing his arms were still around her waist, his palms resting on the small of her back. He also noticed this and immediately pulled away from her.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that.”

Heat spread through her stomach. “No it’s uh quite alright.”

Neither spoke for a moment, Felix clapped his hands together. “Right, shall we?”

“Yes, yeah, let’s go!”

She went to pick up her suitcase but he had beat her to it.

“I’ll be taking that.” He told her.

She scoffed. “I think I’m more than capable of carrying a suitcase.”

He shrugged. “Nope don’t care."

“You vex me.” She sighed, opening the car door and dropping into the seat.

“You love me really!” He sang, taking the suitcase and opening the car boot.

He was closer to the truth than he would ever know.

*

The car sped through the countryside, it was a bright and blazing day. The roof the convertible was down, the wind making her hair dance all around her. The upbeat tempo of music vibrated through the vehicle. She rested her arm against the window ledge, choosing to subtly gaze at Felix through her cat eye sunglasses. It was unfair how good he looked in his ray-ban sunglasses, her eyes traced the sharp curve of his jawline.

“I can feel you staring.” He said.

“I was very much not!” She replied defensively, looking away from and at the rode ahead.

“I’m not blind.” She couldn’t see him but she knew he was smirking.

“You flatter yourself too much.” She teased.

“I don’t think I flatter myself enough.” He replied, she playfully smacked his arm knowing he was joking. It may have seemed like a narcissistic thing to say but when it came down to it there wasn’t much about Felix that was self obsessed. He was not unaware of his own attractiveness but he didn’t carry himself in the way most vain men would.

“So how much further?” She asked.

“Another couple minutes I reckon.”

“Is there anything you haven’t told me that I should know? Like that your family is actually a coven of aristocratic vampires.”

“Just my mum!” He told her, before shaking his head. “No, there isn’t much that you don’t know already. My family can be somewhat traditional but pretty welcoming overall.”

“Will I be presented to your mum in the fashion of a debutante at court?”

He laughed. “Yes then you’ll be forced to dance a waltz with my dad.”

This made her laugh. “Sounds sexy.”

“Thank you for agreeing to come I really do appreciate it.” He told her taking her hand and giving it a warm squeeze.

She squeezed it back. “You’re welcome, I’m always here for you.”

“You too.” He said finally letting go of her hand.

Her pulse was far too fast and so was her spiralling mind. How was she going to manage a month with him?

*

They finally drove through the gates of Saltburn, as cliche as it sounded her mouth nearly fell open in sheer shock. It was the most elegant home she had ever seen. She knew he came from a lot of money but was still taken aback by the extravagance of it all. The car drive came to a stop inside a large garage full of a variety of old expensive cars.

 

Felix came round to her side opening the car door for her, in a gesture she thought only happened in old films.

 

“Thank you.” She told him with a smile.

 

He smiled back. “My mum would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

 

“I would have thought someone else parked your car for you?” She pointed out.

 

“Sometimes I like to do things for myself.” He explained matter of fact.

 

She supposed that was a fair answer, truthfully, she had no clue how the rules of anything of this worked. This was an extreme version wealth which she had never encountered before.

 

He opened the boot of the car, and she took out her suitcase pulling it behind her as they left the garage.

 

They reached the main foyer of the house, it had wide cavernous ceilings with various patterns carved into it. An older man in a suit dipped his head at them politely.

 

“(Name) this is Duncan the head Butler.”

 

Head Butler?! She thought. Was she in Pride and Prejudice?

 

Duncan gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” She replied trying to mimic his formal tone.

 

“I will have your luggage taken to your room.” Duncan told her.

 

(Name) waved her hands. “Oh no really it’s okay I can take it.”

 

Duncan’s face became more pinched. “No please I insist.”

Yeah she was not going to try argue with him.

 

“Well thank you then.” She said awkwardly.

 

She looked on helplessly as Duncan commanded another butler to take the suitcase.

 

Felix clearly sensing her discomfort pat her on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go to the conservatory my mum will be dying to meet you.”

 *

 

There were three women in the conservatory, they were all sat on ornate chairs that faced opened glass doors. Two of the women were engrossed in a story the blonde woman was telling them. She stopped speaking when she noticed her friends had stopped paying attention to her and to instead the new arrivals. The blonde woman turned to see what they were staring at, her whole face lit up.

 

“My goodness darling you do know how to pick them don't you.” The blonde woman (who she had worked out was his mother) said to Felix.

 

She elegantly stood from her chair and practically sauntered toward them.

 

“This is my mum, Elspeth.” He told her.

 

“Lovely to meet y-“ Her words were cut off when Elspeth grabbed both sides of her face tilting it to one side then the other. (Name) winced at having her face manhandled.

 

“Mum stop that!” Her best friend scolded, gently swatting his Mother’s prying hands away.

 

Elspeth bought her hands to her chest. “I do apologise it’s just that I’m trying to figure out what it is about your beauty that draws my son in. I think it might be your eyes they’re rather lovely.”

 

It was a strange compliment, but still a compliment she supposed. “Oh thank you.” She said with a nervous smile. “However I’m pretty sure my physical appearance doesn’t really play a part in my friendship with Felix!”

 

Elspeth furrowed her brow. “Friendship?” She looked to her son. “Felix I thought she was your girlfriend.”

 

Girlfriend?!

 

He sighed. “Mum, I explicitly told you I had a friend coming to stay.”

 

“But the way you so lovingly spoke about her-“

 

“Anyway,” Felix said slightly too loud. “I am sure (Name) will want to get settled into her bedroom, we’ll see you for dinner.”

 

“But really it is wonderful to have you stay dear.” Elspeth told her kindly.

 

She found herself smiling genuinely. “Thank you.”

 

Felix led her out the conservatory with the same speed she led him out of the party.

*

Felix fell back onto the bed in the guest bedroom. He covered his face with both hands groaning into them. “Oh god I’m sorry, that was so embarrassing.”

 

She perched on the bed next to him. “I-I mean it wasn’t too bad. Your mum seems to at least like me!”

 

“Yeah I guess.” He removed his hands from his face. “But how could she imply that you and I-as if I am not capable of just having female friends.”

 

“You seemed to be pretty good friends with a lot of the girls at Oxford.” She snickered, pretending it didn’t hurt to know that.

 

He rolled his eyes. “How do you know?”

 

She flopped down next to him and playfully elbowed him. “I mean you weren’t exactly subtle in hiding it everyone kind of knew.”

 

 “Is that really how you see me?”

 

She turned to lie on her side. “No of course not-sorry I was only teasing.”

 

He didn’t look at her, instead picking at the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t like the idea that a bunch of people can just decide something about me, like they know me. I always made it clear I never wanted anything more from the people I was with. I’m not some heartless fuck boy. It makes me feel uncomfortable that some people might have that view of me...”

 

“Well I don’t.” She said softly. “No one’s perfect but you aren’t a bad guy, people know that even if they see your exploits differently to how you did.”

 

He now looked at her. “What do you think of me?”

 

Where should she start? “I think you’re just one of the kindest people I’ve ever met and that well-I can’t believe I’m existing in the same room as you.”

 

Maybe the last part was too much, but she couldn’t help it if she meant it. His lips parted at her words, he seemed at a momentary loss for words as he stared at her stunned. His full lips looked so inviting parted like that, it wouldn’t have taken her much to lean forward and find out. She chose to sit back up this was becoming too dangerous for her.

 

She cleared her throat. “Do with that what you will.”

 

He seemed to snap back to reality gradually sitting up next to her. “I’m sorry it took me a minute, it’s just- no one’s ever really said anything like that to me before.” He swallowed hard.

 

“Maybe it’s time that someone should.” She admitted.

He gave her a grateful smile that made everything inside her melt away. The moment passed when he stood up from the bed and offered out his hand to her which she gladly took as he pulled her to her feet. “Come on I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

Tag list: @emitaylorsverson

#felix catton x fem!reader #felix catton #saltburn #friends to lovers #jacob elordi

[honeybleed]

— ★ BABY FEVER // JEAN KIRSTEIN

author’s note: REUPLOAD!!!

word count: 1k

Weekends were usually uneventful for you and Jean, especially after being together for a few months now.

The honeymoon phase had slightly died down.

Not to say that things had fizzled out between you or anything. He still was the same sweet guy who was head over heels for you when you first met, but things were a lot calmer now.

There wasn't this need to put up a front any longer, and that was for both of you.

"Oi." His voice dragged you out of your daze as he stood in front of the shopping cart, leaning against it.

You shook your head and faced him.

"...Yeah?" You replied. His eyebrows were a little furrowed.

He was in a bit of a bad mood since he got tired quickly whenever you would drag him to your mother's home, full of all your nieces and nephews and siblings.

You snickered a little when you could see two girls huddled by the shelf giggling to themselves as they were checking him out.

You knew that tight black shirt of his that outlined his physique was nothing but trouble. It didn't help that it was rising a little and his lower half was exposed.

"Put back one of the cereals." He said, bluntly.

"Why should I?" You retorted.

Another part of the settling-in phase was when you and Jean stopped putting on the mask.

And one of Jean's irritating habits was his frugality. He liked expensive things — yes, because they had quality but he hated wasting money on things that were cheap crap with no nutritional value as he put it.

He snatched the box.

"Let's see...hm...well on this one the amount of additives is shocking." He snorted as he squinted at the label of the box.

"I'm not putting it back." You snapped, then returned your focus to the couple with a baby in their arms.

Jean snorted. You were as stubborn as him but he liked that about you. He watched you gaze at the baby in particular with a glimmer in your eyes and a warm smile.

He was a sharp man. He put two and two together, these past few weeks he couldn't ignore how your eyes lit up whenever you saw parents with their children, whether it was babies or toddlers whenever the two of you went out.

He knew you came from a large family too.

As much as it did tire him out to spend the day at your mother's house with all those troublesome and loud nieces and nephews of yours, it was all worth it when he saw you bounce a baby on your knee or when you rushed to kiss and hug one of them who scraped their knee after you cleaned and bandaged their injury.

He was just really waiting on you to say something.

Of course, he always wanted to be a father. And the man was crazy about you, there was nobody else he would want to be the mother of his child.

But it was your call.

The store was within walking distance to the apartment the both of you shared, and truth be told you did enjoy going grocery shopping with Jean.

You adored him and you always felt at peace and safe in his presence.

"You were staring at those baby clothes for quite some time." He said, wryly as you walked down the street which was slightly hushed since it was evening.

You blinked.

"Really?" You said, with an uneasy laugh.

"Yeah." He chortled. "Something on your mind..?" He still had his smart-ass face which annoyed you to no end sometimes but you could hear a hint of concern.

You gazed out at the trees in the park, the breeze rustling the leaves a little.

"...Jean, I want a baby." You finally said after a beat of silence.

"...You do?" He asked, eyes widening a little taken aback. You said it so clearly that it caught him off guard.

You turned to face him, you felt a little ridiculous professing such a heavy statement while holding groceries.

"Yeah..."

"Jeez." He finally replied. "All those times you would threaten to kill me if I knocked you up." He said as he shook his head.

"Jean!" You hissed as you elbowed his side sharply.

"Okay, okay!" He quickly said. "I mean I had a gut feeling."

You spent the rest of the evening together not discussing the conversation you had on the way home. It was pretty heavy and all.

That is until you both finished your nighttime routines.

He was already lying in bed, in his own world staring at the ceiling, arms behind his head. He propped himself up on his elbows as he saw you approach the bed with a wide grin.

You immediately surged towards him, sliding your arms around his waist and nestling into the covers. He laughed a little at how eager you were, a smile on your face too as you rested your head against his bare chest.

He peppered a few kisses across your forehead and pulled you impossibly close to him.

As you absentmindedly traced figure eights on his forearms, he settled his large hand on your waist.

You love how Jean looks at you. The glimmer in his eyes makes you feel like you're the only girl in the world.

"You sure about what you said earlier?" He asked.

It was obvious what he was referring to.

"I can't help this feeling. I know it's heavy but I'm sure I'm capable, we're more than capable." You responded, voice firm.

"Whatever you want, I'm with you." He said. "We're in it together."

You craned your head to look at him, eyes flitting to meet his. You could see reassurance in his eyes which left you in awe a little.

Leaning in to press a gentle, chaste kiss on his lips as a thank you.

His large and calloused hand cupped the side of your face not letting you pull away which made your stomach jolt a little.

You called out his name, dissolving into hysterics then nudging your forehead against his. He settled a hand on the nape of your neck.

"So I guess we better get started now, hm?" He murmured with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You thumped his chest with a fist.

"Jean!"

#aot x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot fluff #aot drabbles #jean kirstein #jean kirstein fluff #aot x female reader #aot x y/n #aot x fem reader #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #aot scenarios #⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles

[natspats]

anything

this is my 1st post on here! see my pinned to learn more about me. :)

thank you for reading & enjoy! 🩷

(inspired by: anything by adrianne lenker)

————————

Light rain patters against the car window, a light grey sky above. Soft music plays in the background and overall you’re feeling happy. That is until-

*click!*

“Hey-!! And what do you think you’re doing?” You giggle and swipe at the phone in your boyfriend’s hand.

Schlatt effectively keeps his phone away from you, holding it up in the air with his long arms, resulting in defeat for your shorter arms.

“Shush toots, I’m admiring my beautiful girl.”

He pretends not to notice the mix of love and happiness that falls onto your face, smiling to himself that he’s made you feel this way.

The amount of photos Schlatt has collected of you over the course of your relationship with him is uncanny. He has a folder in his photos app filled with hundreds of photos of you:

some pretty,

some silly,

some ugly (at least in your eyes, but he doesn’t think it’s possible for you to ever look anything but beautiful,)

and even some random photos of your tits (lol) he managed to acquire. (he insists it’s necessary to have a piece of you for when you’re not around, whatever that means).

Looking at you is probably in his top 5 favorite things to do. If he’s with you physically, he’ll just stare at you.

Stare at you as you sleep on his shoulder, as you ramble on about the thing you’re currently enjoying,

as you’re deep in thought,

as you do absolutely anything.

Or if you guys aren’t together, he will scroll through that damn photo album he’s built up.

“This one’s definitely going in the album.”Schlatt clicks the heart button below the photo and adds the photo to the album entitled, “pretty girl.”

“You say that for every photo you take of me!” You dramatically eye roll and cross your arms.

“Because every photo of you deserves to be kept in a special place.” Schlatt interlocks his big hand with your smaller one as you lay your head on his shoulder.

“One day, the historians will find these photos and think, ‘woah, who was this fine piece of ass?’”

“Whatever you say J.” You look up from his shoulder and smile at him, his eyes smiling as you do.

“I can’t wait.” Schlatt sighs with a light smile.

“For?” You give him an inquisitive look.

“To show you off to everyone. I can’t wait to walk into a room with you, and for all their heads to turn, and then I’m like ‘that’s right, this is my doll and she’s allllllll mine-’”

Your heart feels like it’s going to spill over as he rambles on about the future.

Truth be told, you wanted everyone to see you were his too. Allas, you both decided it would be best to stay on the down low for a while.

Schlatt didn’t want to stress you out with being thrown into the spotlight of his career, and you both wanted to have a relationship without any other party having an influence on that.

The only people who knew of your relationship was both of your families and Ted Nivison. And this method seemed to prove successful because you had been dating for a little over 2 years now.

You guys were both happy, but you knew you couldn’t live like this forever. There comes a point in time where you don’t want to hide anymore.

And that point in time is now.

“And you get to meet all of my friends, especially Minx and Niki you’ll really like them, and I get to hold your hand-“

You cut off the new yorker’s sappy rambling about you with a kiss.

He is taken aback, but quickly falls into it, deepening the kiss. He places a cold hand on the back of your neck, and another cold hand down on your thigh.

After a few seconds, you both break the kiss to catch your breath. He stares into your eyes, half lidded with love.

“Man, I’ll never get over that doll.” He says with a lop sided grin.

“Let’s do it.” You grab his face, placing both of your hands on his scruffy, mutton chopped face.

“Let’s- huh?” Schlatt says almost drunkenly, still grinning lopsidedly.

“You, Mr. Jonathan Schlatt, put that god forsaken photo album to good use.” You smile, staring right into his eyes.

“Just- not the tit pics.”

And with that, his lips meet yours, and you’re unable to keep your hands off each other from that point on.

——————

2 weeks later, you’re in the car, light rain pattering against the window once again.

Music softly playing in the background.

Specifically the song “Anything” by Adrianne Lenker.

It was the song Schlatt posted you to, the song he used to introduce you to the world as his girlfriend.

You feel warm inside.

happy, loved.

*click!*

“EXCUSE YOU.” You gasp at him.

Schlatt shows you his phone and puts on his best shit eating grin as he adds the new photo to the album.

“You posted the photos what more could you need-“

“Ah, ah, ah!” He swiftly cuts you off with his finger pressed to your lips.

“Just because I finally posted those photos doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop taking photos of you, toots.” He raises a brow at you and laughs.

You let yourself smile at the absurdity of it all.

Schlatt takes your hand and begins pressing gentle kisses to it.

He continues to press kisses to your hand, as you pick up your phone with your other.

“Ted is calling me.”

Schlatt looks over to your phone, takes it, and examines it before deciding to hit decline. He tosses it to the side.

“He can wait.”

And with that, you’re once again unable to keep your hands off each other.

#schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt fluff #jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt x you #makeout sesh #cuties #Spotify

[pretty-blkgirl]

Miserable

//fem!reader x idol!Han//

Synopsis: You see a picture of a gorgeous woman and a man that looks like Han, so you try and confront him.

Genre: Angst

Warnings: reader is described as a woman, yelling, Han has a tantrum (?)

A/N: I literally just listened to Han’s new song and RUSHED to write this. When you read you may catch a couple of the lyrics in there 👀

Listen to:

~~~~|~~~~

“Get away from me Han,” You say, snatching your hand from his grip and jogging to your bedroom. He runs after you, grabbing at your shirt to slow you down.

“Baby please” He sobs, “I swear it’s not what you think. I swear it wasn’t me”

He’s in hysterics. Crying so loud that you can’t even hear yourself think. Someone had sent you a picture of what looked to be Han and another woman getting cozy in a club.

When you confronted him he only laughed at you. In his mind, you were ridiculous for even thinking he would cheat on you. He was obsessed with you, and you knew that.

You just wanted to have an honest conversation about everything. The guy in the photo looked similar to Han but you knew deep down that wasn’t him, still, you wanted to confront your lover just to be sure.

This was one of those moments where you needed reassurance. He had millions of people who were falling at his feet every day. He could have anyone he wanted. So, when you saw the picture and you saw how gorgeous that woman was- it kinda spooked you.

Even if you believed it wasn’t him, you just wanted to hear him confirm that he’d never do that.

Unfortunately, he didn’t react how you thought he would. You knew he would have been a little taken aback by the sudden accusation but you didn’t know he’d start laughing in your face while calling you “crazy” and “delusional”

“Be serious” He chuckled, snatching your phone to look down at the picture, “That doesn’t even look like me. Plus, I hate clubs AND whenever I’m not with the guys, I’m with you.”

You nodded silently and reached for your phone, to where he only held it in the air where you couldn’t reach it

“I can’t believe you even brought this bullshit to my attention. Do not trust me?”

“It’s not that” You quickly say, “I just needed to hear you deny it. That’s all”

He laughed more. Finally, giving your phone back before looking you up and down

“You must be cheating, with all this projection going on.”

You were shocked, “Excuse me?”

“I mean, why else would you show me this bullshit? Tell me, who’s in your head right now? Someone other than me?”

That comment hurt you. You understood if he was upset at you, but did he have to react this way?

You weren’t even accusatory when you brought it up. You started off by telling him you loved him but wanted him to be honest. Why was he being so hostile?

You were feeling a bit insecure, and you just wanted the truth.

The nonsense continued as you started to zone out. He shouldn’t be talking to you like this, even if he was upset with you.

Again, it’s not like you thought that was him, but your insecurities got the best of you. You couldn’t help but ask him, you needed to know he only had eyes for you.

But seeing how he reacted -how childish he was being, and how he was speaking so terribly to you- you started to doubt the relationship.

“Let’s take a break” You mumble. Walking away as Han was in the middle of a rant. As if a flipped switched, his rude and disrespectful attitude turned into an apologetic and regetful one.

“What? A break? A break for what? Baby that’s not me, I already told you that”

You ignored his pleas to talk this out. You tried to talk, but he wasn’t having it. Why should you hear him out?

He grabbed and held onto you while you tried to get to the bedroom. You could already feel the tears starting to wet your shoulder as he hugged you tightly from behind.

“Move Han,” You say, trying to wiggle out of his grasp

That went on for a while, him crying and begging you to stop while you made your way to the room. When you finally got in there, he was nearly screaming as you began to pack a bag.

“BABY NO” He yells, causing you to jump in surprise, “DON'T LEAVE ME. I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT YOU.”

You continue to pack as he goes to your side and drops to his knees. His face is wet with tears and his lip is quivering slightly as sobs continue to pour from his mouth.

“I WAS NEVER OUT WITH THAT WOMAN. I ONLY WANT YOU. YOU’RE THE ONLY GIRL I’D EVER WANT. I SWEAR IT WASN’T ME”

You still ignored him and managed to get three days worth of clothes in your small suitcase. You planned to stay at your parent’s house.

You set your suitcase on the bed and walked to the bathroom to grab soap and your toothbrush. While you were out, Han started to put all your clothes back in the drawer. You only rolled your eyes when you saw what he was doing.

“Stop Han. Just let me go”

“Baby that wasn’t me!”

“Okay, and?” You say, causing him to give a confused look through his tears, “I get that you’re upset that I brought this up, but the way you talked to me was not warranted”

“Baby please, I’m sorry. I was just mad and wanted to hurt you because you hurt me!”

You groan, “Even if you’re mad, you communicate. How dare you call me crazy and all that other shit? Laughing in my face? Then accused me of being a cheater?”

“Y-You accused me!?”

“I asked if that was you, all I needed was a no. I just needed the reassurance, but you decided to be a fucking asshole”

You went back to your drawers and pulled out your clothes again. His screams started back up when you were fully packed.

“Y/N I'M SORRY. I’LL NEVER TALK TO YOU LIKE THAT AGAIN. I’LL NEVER MAKE FUN OF YOUR FEELINGS AGAIN!”

“Mhm” You shrug, rushing to the front door, “We’ll talk about our relationship when I get back”

“Baby don’t go away”

He grabs your suitcase, preventing you from leaving. You let out an exhausted sigh and turned to look at him. His eyes were already bloodshot. His shirt had streaks of tears staining it, and his hair was all disheveled from running his fingers through it.

“I’ll be miserable without you. I can’t function without you. We can work through this. Just don’t leave me. I can’t even handle you being gone for a few minutes, never mind a couple of days”

You sigh, thinking over the conversation in your head. You were taught to never allow disrespect, and you two were usually good about being aware of one another’s feelings.

You upset him, which you understood.

He shouldn’t have said what he said though.

You were conflicted for a few seconds but decided to leave so you could clear your mind.

“We’ll talk later.” That was all you said as you let go of the suitcase and walked out the door.

It took everything in him not to run after you, but he was content knowing you’d be back.

He sunk to the floor, weeping silently and counting down the seconds until you returned to him.

#Youtube #skz bang chan #skz changbin #skz felix #skz han #skz hyunjin #skz jeongin #skz lee know #skz seungmin #skz x reader #skz minho #skz fake texts #skz poly x reader #skz angst #skz stay #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz yandere #skz #skz fluff #skz smut #skz fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #stray kids reactions #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids imagine

[pathetic-sapphic]

Can I request meeting Viktor for the first time? What he'd think and how he might act, and how a friendship then blossoms which leads to romance. The reader being fem and a bit shy at first but bold once you know them

I love your work! Xx

Friends to Lovers with Viktor

Viktor doesn't usually pay much attention to the people that Jayce brings over to the lab. He tends to ignore them and focus on his work, he wanted to do the same when Jayce brought you over but Jayce was insistent on introducing the two of you. According to him, you two ''would get along really well'' because ''you have similar brilliant minds and a kind heart''. Viktor was suspicious of this but you seem genuinely eager to meet him and interested in his work, albeit you were a bit shy which he honestly found quite endearing.

Since then, you have become a constant presence in their lab, mostly spending time with Viktor by talking to him about his work and helping him take care of himself. Viktor was quite taken aback by the kindness and gentleness that you showed him, always worrying about his well-being and bringing him little snacks and drinks. Even if he tried not to pay attention to you and focus on his current project, you always stayed by his side, patiently observing and letting him do his thing. It was the first time in his life that Viktor learned how to enjoy silence with another person.

Jayce was the first of the three of you who noticed the feelings blossoming between you and Viktor. He was ecstatic when he realized and thought that you would make a lovely couple. However, both of you were quite shy and believed that the other person's feelings weren't mutual. So, Jayce formed a plan; he needed to get the two of you out of the lab, alone, and he knew just the way to do it.

He decided to invite you both out for a cozy drink at a bookshop café nearby. He told you that he just wanted to hang out with you both and you happily agreed. Viktor was a tougher nut to crack, always pouring over his work and being holed up in the lab. Jayce managed to convince him by telling Viktor he found some books which could contain some helpful information but there were so many that he couldn't go over them alone. Reluctantly, Viktor agreed to meet up with him, oblivious to Jayce's great master plan.

Of course, when only you and Viktor showed up at the café, it didn't take long for the two of you to realize that Jayce was behind all this. Figuring you might as well take advantage of finally being alone with one another, you and Viktor quickly slipped into a pleasant and riveting conversation.

Viktor could not remember for the life of him when was the last time he had so much fun, seeing you become comfortable at his side and laughing as you re-tell the story of that time you pranked Jayce, Viktor found himself completely whipped by your presence. Figuring it's now or never, he gently placed his hand atop of yours and admitted, ''Darling, I know the true reason behind Jayce's absence today. The truth is I have admired you and been in love with you for a while now, and I suppose that this was his way of giving me a chance to fess up. Now, I understand if you don't feel the same, it will not change our friendship. But if, by any chance, the feeling is mutual then I'd like to take you out on a proper date this Friday, without the scheming of some third-party Councilor? What do you say, my dear?''

Oh, seeing your blushing cheeks as you stuttered out a confession of your own had Viktor's heart doing flips. You were just so darling and sweet, he was so lucky that you felt the same. The rest of your date was spent planning the next one. You agreed to visit a nearby aquarium followed by a relaxing walk in the park.

Time flows by quick when you're in such lovely company and before you knew it, Viktor was accompanying you home. He walked you all the way to your door and just when he was about to bid you a good night, you gathered up all the courage you had and planted a shy kiss on his cheek. Viktor, in return, gently lifted your hand and pecked it. You swore you could feel the redness of his cheeks against your fingers. With flaming faces, you wished each other farewell and went your separate ways.

Let's just say you both owe a favor to Jayce, you'll figure out how to make it up to him during your next date. Until then, you were both going to be quite busy, you with figuring out what to wear and Viktor with figuring out what flowers he should get for you.

#arcane #arcane headcanons #arcane x reader #requests are open #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x female reader #viktor x you #viktor league of legends #arcane viktor x you #arcane viktor fluff

[rosyrosethings]

Mafia Harry neglects Y/n

Harrys is Mafia leader and does not have much time for Y/n

Mafia harry neglects Y/n

Harry, the powerful leader of a formidable mafia organization, led a life consumed by endless meetings and strategic planning with his loyal men. Each day seemed to blur into the next, leaving little time for personal matters. Y/n, his beloved girlfriend, had initially found the allure of being with a mafia boyfriend thrilling, but as time went on, she discovered the loneliness that came with it.

Y/n tried her best not to interrupt Harry while he was engrossed in discussions with his men, understanding the importance of his work. She rarely witnessed him in action, but she could see how his men reacted to him – their unwavering loyalty and obedience were evident. Though they didn't engage with her much, she suspected that Harry instructed them to keep their distance, perhaps to protect her from the dangerous world they inhabited.

Despite the challenges, Y/n held on to her perception of Harry as a sweet and caring person, incapable of running a powerful criminal organization. But the truth was, Harry's charismatic leadership, fear, and respect commanded the loyalty of his men.

One evening, as the sun set, Y/n laid in bed with Harry, cherishing the rare moment they got to spend together. Their time together was fleeting, and as if on cue, Harry's phone alerted him to yet another pressing matter. Y/n's heart sank, knowing he would be pulled away again.

"Kitten," Harry whispered, reaching for his phone.

Exasperated, Y/n couldn't hold her feelings back any longer. "Harry, why do you even invite me over if you're just going to leave again? We barely cuddled for two minutes," she said, pushing him away gently as he tried to hold her close.

"It's my job, love," Harry explained, trying to reassure her.

She looked at him, her eyes filled with frustration and hurt. "You've been neglecting me for work, and while I understand it's important to you, but I thought I was important to you," she murmured, her gaze locked on his.

Harry immediately reached for her hand, wanting her to know that she mattered. "Baby, you are important to me. I love you. How about this? After this meeting, we can go to the pool in the back, and then we can watch a movie together. Anything you want," he promised, peppering her neck with tender kisses.

"Promise?" Y/n asked, seeking reassurance.

"Anything for you," he affirmed, sealing the deal with a sweet kiss on her lips, which brought a smile to Y/n's face.

As the night wore on, Harry excused himself to his office with his men in tow, leaving Y/n waiting by the poolside in her yellow two-piece bikini. Hopeful for quality time together, she waited patiently, only to be disappointed when Harry didn't join her within the expected timeframe. Two hours had passed, and there was still no sign of him.

Feeling increasingly upset and neglected, Y/n decided to take matters into her own hands and headed straight to Harry's office. She didn't even bother knocking, the frustration pushing her to the brink. Y/n felt vulnerable in her revealing outfit, but her need to express her emotions overshadowed any concern.

Inside the office, Y/n saw Harry and four of his men engrossed in conversation. The sudden intrusion surprised them, but Harry quickly regained his composure. His eyes locked with Y/n's, noticing how his men's attention lingered on her. He couldn't blame them. Harry was taken aback by her unexpected appearance, especially in such a revealing outfit, but he knew he had to address her concerns.

"Harry, you told me you'd come to the pool with me, and now the sun is setting, and you're still in here!" Y/n exclaimed, her arms crossed in front of her in frustration. He approached her, taking off his suit jacket and draping it over her shoulders, both to comfort her and to shield her from their prying eyes.

"I know, kitten, but something came up. Tonight, I'm going to need you to stay here while I'm gone," Harry explained, his voice softened by the love he had for her.

"Gone? You're leaving? What about the movie?" Y/n asked, a hint of sadness in her eyes.

Harry's heart ached as he saw her disappointment. "I'm sorry, love. Trust me, I am going to make this up to you, and Ian will be here with you," he gestured to his loyal friend, who nodded affirmatively.

Y/n turned to face Ian, feeling a mix of irritation and loneliness. "But why can't you stay here, and Ian goes out?"

Harry sighed, trying to find the right words. "Because, puddin', I have to take care of some things in person, but Ian will be here to make sure no one touches you. Isn't that right, Ian?" Harry asked, his tone firm as he made eye contact with his trusted friend.

Ian nodded, understanding the weight of the responsibility entrusted to him by Harry. His loyalty to his best friend was unwavering, and he would protect Y/n with his life.

Feeling overwhelmed, Y/n turned back to face Harry, her eyes welling up with tears. She hated crying like this, but the hurt was too much to bear. "I wanna go with you," she said, her voice trembling as she looked up at him.

Harry's heart swelled with love for her, but he knew that bringing her along was too risky. He pulled her close, his hand around her waist, trying to comfort her. "Baby, you can't go with me. It's too dangerous for you," he said, gently kissing her forehead.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she closed her eyes, finding solace in his embrace. Harry signaled to his men to leave, wanting a moment alone with Y/n. He wanted to assure her that she was his priority and that he would make things right when he returned.

"I know you're sad, and I promise I'm going to take good care of you when I get home," Harry said, his voice full of sincerity.

Y/n sniffled, her tears subsiding slightly. "You said you promised last time," she said, her voice laced with vulnerability.

"I know, but this time, I truly mean it. You are my first priority, and after this, I am all yours," he reassured her, sealing his promise with a tender kiss.

As the night progressed, Harry left Y/n in Ian's capable hands. She sat on the couch, feeling incredibly lonely as the hours dragged on. The silence was broken by the sound of the front door opening and closing, and she turned to see Ian entering the house. He had just finished patrolling the premises, his hand still on his gun.

"Ian, do you want to watch a movie with me?" Y/n asked, hoping for some company to ease her loneliness.

Ian hesitated, knowing that Harry had asked him to keep an eye out for any potential threats. But seeing Y/n's sadness, he couldn't resist offering her some comfort. "I'm not sure. Harry said—" he started, only to be interrupted by Y/n's frustration.

"Harry also said he'd watch a movie with me, but did he do that?" she retorted, looking up at Ian with pleading eyes. "Please, I'm lonely," she added, hoping he would understand.

Ian sighed, realizing that Harry wouldn't mind if he kept her company. He sat down beside her, ready to watch a movie together.

"What do you want to watch? Any preferences?" Ian asked, trying to accommodate her desires.

Y/n shook her head, wanting to know more about him. "Nah, we can watch whatever you want. I want to know what you like. I feel like you always agree or go along with everything just because I'm Harry's girlfriend," she said, turning to face him.

Ian chuckled, revealing his perfect teeth. "Well, I like anime," he confessed, surprised by her reaction.

"You? I never would've thought you were an anime fan. I love anime too!" she exclaimed with genuine excitement.

"Yeah, I've been watching it since I was old enough to have the remote," he revealed.

"Then let's watch an anime," she suggested, feeling a connection forming between them.

And so they did. Y/n found an anime called "7 Deadly Sins," and they started watching it together. As the episodes played, Y/n slowly succumbed to her exhaustion, her head falling gently on Ian's shoulder.

Seeing her in this vulnerable state, Ian couldn't help but admire her beauty. He swallowed his thoughts, knowing Harry would never forgive him if he entertained any inappropriate ideas about Y/n. He was Harry's loyal friend, and he would never betray that trust.

Unbeknownst to Y/n and Ian, Harry had returned home to find Y/n sleeping peacefully on Ian's shoulder. A surge of possessiveness washed over him, but he approached them with a playful tone.

"Got a bit comfortable, didn't ya?" Harry teased, directing his gaze at Ian.

Ian turned to see Harry standing above them, feeling a bit flustered by his sudden presence. He struggled to find the right words to explain the situation.

Harry circled the couch, his eyes fixed on Y/n. "Y/n baby, wake up," he called softly but with an underlying sternness that made her stir.

Y/n opened her eyes slightly, the sight of Harry immediately bringing a smile to her sleepy face. "Harry," she murmured, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "I've missed you so much," she confessed, as Harry held her arms, helping her to her feet.

Harry's heart melted at her words, and he knew he had to make it up to her. He had promised her, and he intended to keep that promise. He would do everything in his power to show her how much he cherished and loved her.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Harry said, helping Y/n up. Harry looked at Ian.

"Ian thank you for taking care of my girl but I can take it from here." He said. Emphasis on the 'my girl' part. Making clear who she belongs to. Y/n still sleepy. Not really paying attention. Ian nodded not wanting to be on Harry's bad side.

Harry continued to guide Y/n to the bedroom. As they settled into bed, Y/n's head rested on Harry's chest. "I'm sorry for neglecting you," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "I promise to make more time for us, to show you just how much you mean to me."

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes filled with love. "I believe you," she said, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. "I know you have a lot on your plate, but just knowing that you're willing to make an effort means the world to me."

"I love you," Harry whispered, pulling her close to him. "And I'm going to make sure you feel loved and cherished every day."

"I love you more, lets just sleep."

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #watermelon sugar #fine line #harrys house

[catandrabbitt]

The Good Doctor

chishiya has a dark secret that he keeps from everyone. he encounters you at a café after a long shift at the hospital, and you pique his interest

warnings: murder, chishiya is a fake and manipulative little shit, knives/scalpels, blood, surgery mentions, mentions of chishiyas sociopathic behavior, minor s2 spoilers about chishiya’s past

“I think I’m done for the night.” The blonde man murmured to himself, leaning back away from the patient after her heart monitor flatlined.

He set the scalpel next to his set of other bloody tools, standing up and pulling off his gloves.

The doctor began cleaning off his tools, not bothering to alert the nurses so soon of yet another dead patient. Another ‘surgery gone wrong’.

He supposed it could have been labeled that way. Taking another glance at the mess that laid upon his operating table, he couldn’t help but to scowl.

An open-heart surgery. He had been eager when he found out about it, immediately offering to be the one to perform the surgery. After an analysis of the patient, the doctor decided that she failed his very high standards.

This one in particular happened to be a café owner. Underneath that facade, she was a deadbeat mother who spent all of her earnings on cigarettes and alcohol.

Chishiya couldn’t stand people like her.

One tiny nick on the wrong artery. One that the doctor was well aware would kill her if even scratched, which is why he did it. It could be seen as an accident.

Chishiya rolled his eyes as he thought back on the memory. It was becoming mundane to continue killing people, as he had accumulated over 15 ‘failed’ surgeries. He needed to get a new hobby, or at least spice things up a little.

A scoff escaped his lips. He was one of the best, if not the best doctor in the hospital. Surgeries only went wrong if Chishiya wanted them to.

Chishiya left the operating room, on his way to alert a few nurses of what happened. Well, obviously not the entire truth. He’d just have to twist it a little.

It was around 7 PM. Chishiya decided that he was finished for the night, and after cleaning himself up and letting his hair back down, he left the hospital.

Café Whimsy. It was a small, quaint café right down the road from the hospital. He frequented it often, before and after work to get a coffee. It was his favorite way to end the night, as they usually stayed open later than normal cafés.

However, as he pulled into the parking lot, he felt a frown tug at his lips. All the lights were off and the ‘open’ sign was turned off. This was definitely unusual.

Chishiya was irritated. He didn’t like change that much, and not being able to end his nightly routine the way he typically does didn’t sit well with him.

Nonetheless, he went home anyway.

The next morning, Chishiya stopped by the café before heading to the hospital, glad to see that they were open their normal hours again.

He entered the shop, hearing the door ding behind him as he walked in. One glance around the store told him that he was the only customer inside. It was rather early.

“Be right with you!” An unfamiliar voice shouted from the back. Chishiya was taken aback — he was familiar with all of the workers at Café Whimsy since he visited so much. This one was new.

You emerged from the back room swiftly, the flour on your apron and face signaling that you were in the middle of making something.

“Sorry about that! What can I get for you?” You asked, tapping on the computer to begin taking his order.

“Are you new?” Chishiya asked instead, his feline eyes analyzing your entire figure.

You chuckled sheepishly. “I’m actually not. I just have to work the opening shift this morning since the café owner is out.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “The owner is gone?”

You nodded. “She will be for awhile. We had to close early last night because she needed surgery. Anyways, what can I get for you?”

Surely it wasn’t the lady he killed the previous night, right?

“What kind of surgery was it?” Chishiya pressed further.

Your smile faltered a little, as you realized he wasn’t going to order anytime soon. “Heart surgery, I believe? I don’t know what was wrong, but she mentioned needing surgery for awhile. Maybe you know about it? Since you look like a doctor and all.”

That confirmed it. It was definitely the lady from last night.

“Oh, yeah.” Chishiya finally said, glancing down at his outfit and realizing he had his scrubs and doctors coat on. “Iced vanilla latte, please.”

A small sigh of relief came from you as he finally ordered. “Sure thing. It’ll be just a moment.”

His eyes never left your figure as you made his coffee, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

You slid the latte across the counter, tapping on the screen once more. “$3.41, please. Thank you.”

After handing you the money, Chishiya continued your previous conversation. “So, what time did you close yesterday? I stopped by after I got off work, but you were already closed.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in thought as you handed him back his change.

“Around 5, I think? I’m not sure. I’m glad we did, though. I would have regretted it if we didn’t close. She’s a nice lady. I hope her surgery goes okay.” You smiled sweetly at him. Your raw happiness was difficult to find nowadays, and Chishiya found himself becoming intrigued by you.

Your boss was not a nice lady, or a good person for that matter. He had killed her during her surgery tonight just based on the facts he learned during their patient analysis.

Obviously he couldn’t tell you that without blowing his cover.

“Regretted it?” He inquired, raising an eyebrow at you. How could you be so oblivious to your boss’ actions? Or unable to sense the danger standing right in front of you?

“Yes. It’s hard not to. Like I said, she’s a nice lady.” You proceeded to explain, still offering a gentle smile towards him. “Do you regret anything? Wish you could have changed anything?”

Chishiya stared at you for a few seconds, fighting the urge to scoff in your face. He doesn’t regret anything he’s done, ever. He’s a sociopath for fucks sake, do you really think he cares about how his actions affect others?

“No, I don’t.” He finally responded, his tone blunt and icy. The cold look now in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and any comfort you had with the blonde man instantly vaporized.

“See you around.” Chishiya said firmly, grabbing his coffee off the counter and leaving the shop with his coat flowing behind him.

You were definitely an interesting little thing. Maybe it was time to switch hobbies.

#chishiya shuntaro #yandere alice in borderland #chishiya #chishiya aib #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #yandere aib #yandere chishiya #yandere #yandere chishiya shuntaro #aib #aib chishiya #alice in borderland #aib s2

[hammyballeceter]

Hvitserk Ragnarsson

Moss & Flowers & Things

!!!-mentions swearing

Hvitserk x female reader!

“ah fuck” you exclaimed, another bowl slipped from your grasp. You had pilled them high in your arms thinking you could move them over to the long oak table that was being set up for a feast in one go.

Your farther would cook for such occasions, becoming well liked through out Kattegat for his food. Sadly that also meant you had to help out, alot.

You didn’t mind so much, you got to work on your own most of the time and you enjoyed setting up for feasts. Decorating the tables with bouquets of what ever beautiful things you foraged from the woods that day. The men never seemed to take notice but wives and small children seemed to appreciate the decorations.

It was a celebration for Hvitserk, you weren’t sure what it was for. Nor that you cared. Working with your farther meant you did a lot of occasions for the king and his sons.

As you’d finished with the head table you took a step back to admire your hard work, the long hall looked beautiful. It was bound to be ruined once everyone got a drink in them but you still remained proud of what you accomplished.

Candles flicker giving a warm inviting golden glow, wooden plates lined neatly, metal ones for the head table, drinking horns waiting to be filled waited for each guest, moss and branches woven around pillars, bouquets of long feathers carefully selected flowers and forest greenery placed around the room. It was dark, but illuminated enough to see the work you’d done.

You could of sat in there for hours.

It wasn’t feminine by any means but it did look beautiful. You hoped Hvitserk liked it, you picked things that reminded you of him. Although you didn’t know what the celebration was really for, you’d always had a soft spot for the handsome man. But then again, so did pretty much every other woman in Kattegat. You kept yourself to yourself most of the time, and hopes of ever being noticed by him diminished when you caught wind of all the women he bedded.

The door had been propped open so you hadn’t heard Hvitserk enter, he knew of you and always enjoyed seeing how you decorated the hall for special feasts. Always sneaking a look before the celebrations began. He didn’t want to admit it but he’d always try and catch a glimpse of you as well. He was expecting something good as your work always was but this time it was different, the large room had never looked so different. You’d put extra special effort in and it definitely showed. Hvitserk was taken aback, he loved seeing your creativity but he’d never seen such a beautiful place before. It was almost how he imagined Valhalla must of looked like. That’s when he caught sight of you, you’d usually be to busy or heading off to help your farther for him to speak to you, but he’d always make sure to come just early enough so he could see you as well & watch you work. This time you had seated your self on one of the seats, candles illuminating your beautiful features. He wanted to talk to you but never gained the courage to do so, he’d never seen someone as pulchritudinous as you.

“The moss and flowers and things look amazing” his mouth betrayed him, speaking for him. You jumped slightly at his voice, not hearing him enter you had thought you were alone. The many uses of the word and caused you to crack a small smile. Him following suit.

“Thank you” you nodded your head toward him. “What are you doing here so early, the feast doesn’t begin for another hour”

Hvitserk walked closer to you, motioning if he could sit next to you which of course you obliged to. Your hands were shaking, you’d never been this close to him.

“Truth be told I always come a little early to see how you decorate, even to watch you work. You always do such a wonderful job. But this time, it’s truly breath taking. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He looked around till his eyes landed on you, you wanted to hold his gaze but didn’t incase he thought you were staring.

“You watch me work? And all that time you could of been helping.” Your cheeks burned red, did he really do that? you’d never noticed him before. Maybe this man was secretly a mouse. The thought of him coming early to see your work made your heart flutter.

You comment made Hvitserk laugh, his laugh was a deep joyous sound. One you would do anything to keep on hearing.

“Maybe next time I’ll pick you up so you don’t have to struggle hanging things on the pillars”

You lightly slapped him on the shoulder, but then almost immediately regretted it.

“my apologies i forgot my place there for a moment” flustered you went to stand up but you felt his hand gently grab your arm.

“Don’t apologise, please. Sit with me. in fact sit on this stool it’s closer to me. I’d like to properly see your face.”

You sat facing him this time, and you took this opportunity to really look at him. He was rough yet unbelievably gorgeous, his slight facial hair and scars made him rugged yet his eyes and soft smile made him gentle. The man you wanted for yourself was sat infront of you, and you were desperate to reach out and touch him, to check if he was really there.

“you’re beautiful” Hvitserk couldn’t quite help himself, being able to finally get you by yourself and being so close he could hold it back. “I always look for you, you know. In crowds, when I walk around Kattegat. I always hope I’ll see you. When you started coming to set up for our feasts and celebrations that’s when I’d come find you. I’d never have the courage to speak to you. But today I had to when I saw what you had done, your work is usually amazing but this, this is next level. And I’m glad it’s for my celebration” He’d finally admitted it, it felt like a weight off of his shoulders. “Y/N you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. And it would be my pleasure to be able to have the chance to learn more about you. Your mere presence makes me feel alive. I’d wish I had the courage to approach you earlier as i would have made you my wife by now.”

Your hand was still in his when he placed it to his lips, your body refused to believe it was real. Dumbfounded you’d reached your other hand up to gently touch his cheek. And he was really there, he did really say those things to you. He flashed a smile again seeming to understand that you were trying to comprehend what was going on.

“I did all this for you, especially for you. I picked everything that reminded me of you for decoration. I’ve always admired you from afar. But never felt worthy enough to even speak to you. The type of women you bed are a lot different to me, they hold power, they’re truly beautiful. So I just continued to do my work and keep myself to myself.”

Words flowed out of your mouth, it was embarrassing but you didn’t care. His hand squeezed yours gently,

“It hurts me to hear you speak so down on yourself, you are truly beautiful, the most beautiful. As it is you I always searched for. My heart yearned for you yet I couldn’t get myself to speak to you in fear of rejection.”

He placed a kiss on the corner of your mouth, you had no objections the only one being isn’t wasn’t planted on your lips.

“Hvistark, are you sure it is me that you find so beautiful?”

He nodded, looking deep into your eyes, as if he could get lost in them. And he would happily do so. This time you took the lead needing his lips, you kissed him, he was quick to kiss back. For him he was kissing the woman he has wanted since he was a young child. You had fallen in love with each other from afar and finally were able to show that to each other.

“Come to the feast with me tonight, I want to show everyone I’ve finally got the woman I’ve longed for, and to prove my brothers wrong.”

“Prove them wrong?”

“They said I would never be able to have the guts to talk to you. They think your beautiful but all backed off because I knew one day that I’d get you. I just needed the courage. Plus I’d kill them if they touched you.”

#hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk fanfic #vikings hvitserk #vikings #vikings imagine

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 08 | thomas jefferson

title: freedom of the press 08

words: 10k

warnings: a lot of angst sorry. 09 will be happier if i can publish it in less than 2.5 years this time. addiction/substance abuse mentions, STI mentions

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

desc: the 2020 republican presidential frontrunner is an obnoxious, morally bankrupt people-pleaser, but what happens when you become the person he’s most eager to please?

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich @cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudynblw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow @siriusorionblackiii @fanfic-addict-98 @nyxie75 @i-know-i-can @yxseminx @yavin4andor @sugacita @sstrawberry-fanta @youtxbemusic @queenwilty @someinsanefangirl @foudre-aqua @whatevs2000 @rwr-ites @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @toxicidity @malos-moving @luckyfriesss @lovecass123

"YOU SENT ASHLEY my fucking article?"

"Woah, honey, slow down," Angelica said, voice staticky through the phone, but Y/N was fuming. She was sure that everyone in the diner below her apartment could hear her yelling. "Yes, I sent it. You asked me to, last night."

Y/N furrowed her brow. "...What the hell are you talking about?"

"Seriously?" she asked. "Don't tell me you've forgotten. You promised you only had two drinks."

Y/N's stomach turned. She distinctly remembered downing half the open bar at the campaign fundraiser the night prior after the way her conversation with Thomas had ended. She less-distinctly remembered Angelica driving her home -- she'd been in North Carolina on a different assignment, but it turned out the CEO she was reporting on happened to be one of Thomas's biggest donors. "Okay, so maybe I stretched the truth a little, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with everything," Angelica said flatly. "You told me to send that article to Ashley in the middle of your soliloquy about how Jefferson was ruining your life. You were rambling, but you were coherent; I wouldn't have expected you'd wake up having forgotten all of it."

The more she spoke, the more was coming back to Y/N, though. Flashes of Angelica checking her out of her hotel, driving her several hours back north to DC.

"Fuck," she finally said, palming her forehead as though it'd restore her memory. "Wait, why would I have you send it to her instead of just doing it myself?"

"I don't know," Angelica said mildly. "Maybe you were too far gone to write the email."

"You said I was coherent," Y/N replied, raising an eyebrow. "So which is it? Was I drunk beyond belief, or did I just seem a little tipsy?"

"Honey, I don't know; you were just a little out of it. And you did just tell me you’d lied to me about how much you’d had to drink." Angelica sounded exasperated, but Y/N wasn't done.

"Forward me the email you sent Ashley. I need to see when you sent it and what you said."

"Why? I—"

"Because I don't believe that I asked you to do that," she snapped, and Angelica paused for a long moment, taken aback.

"...Why don't you believe me?"

"Because I'd already decided that I wasn't going to send it," Y/N huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"And so you think I did it behind your back?"

“That’s exactly what I think.”

There was a long pause; all Y/N could hear from the other end of the line was static.

“Y/N—”

“Either forward me the email you sent Ashley, or own up to it,” she cut her off, having no desire to hear Angelica push another excuse. “Prove me wrong.”

“I can’t.” Angelica’s tone was biting, and Y/N’s scowl deepened. “I did send it, but you know what? I’m trying to save you from yourself.”

“What the hell do you mean, ‘save me from myself’?” she asked incredulously. “You were the one who told me that only I could decide what I wanted to publish.”

“You spent an hour on the trip home talking about how Jefferson was ruining your life,” Angelica reminded her. “So why don’t you want that article published? Why are you trying to protect him?”

“Because even he doesn’t deserve this.”

“Why not?” she asked. “Why doesn’t he? He’s been ruining your career, antagonizing you on Twitter; do you even remember how worked up you were yesterday? Talk about your integrity all you want, but that doesn’t mean you have to protect him.”

“It’s not about protecting him,” Y/N defended. “It’s just what I think is right.”

“And why don’t you think this is right? That’s what I don’t get.” Angelica’s huff sent a rush of static through the phone that made Y/N wince. “Honey, this would fix all the damage he’s done to your career; isn’t it only fair that you publish? You've been drowning in bills, and I know it's taking a toll on you. You deserve the money you'll get from this. Besides, you don’t owe him anything.”

You don’t owe him anything.

Y/N couldn’t reply; Angelica’s words reverberated in her mind like an echo — they were true. She didn’t owe him anything. That was what she’d been telling herself, it was what she’d been telling everyone else, and it was what she'd spent the past night arguing with him about.

And he’d agreed. She didn’t owe him anything.

“I… I can’t have this conversation right now, Ang,” she sighed. “I know you meant well, but this wasn’t your place to get involved. Now I need to figure out what my next move is.”

“It’s too late to stop the article. Ashley already has it.” Y/N winced at her words, and Angelica continued, “If you refused to give her the sources, she’d fire you. I know this job means too much for you to just throw it away when things get hard.”

"This isn't 'things getting hard'; it's me losing the reason I wanted to be a journalist in the first place."

"And if you want to stay a journalist, you'll send Ashley the tape of your interview with Adams," Angelica said. "She can't publish without it."

“Don't act like somehow you know what's best for me, Angelica."

"It seems like I know better than you. Your finances have been the worst part of your life for years, and those are your exact words," she said, and Y/N scoffed. However, there was truth to it. "If you just waited it out and let Ashley transfer you to another department, would you even be able to pay your bills? Or would you lose your electricity? Your running water? What would you do the next time a student debt payment rolled around?"

"Well, thanks to you, now Ashley's threatening to fire me altogether.” Y/N scowled. "If I lose my income, I sure as hell won't be able to pay off my debt."

"Then follow through with the article," she urged. "You know it's what you need to do. You have to do this for yourself, Y/N. You think Jefferson's never broken his code of ethics to get ahead? Do you even think he has one?"

“Of course—” Y/N had to cut herself off. Her first instinct was to defend him, but she didn’t see any way she could convince Angelica of anything without her believing she’d been indoctrinated. “It isn’t about him. It’s about me, and it’s about my integrity. It doesn’t matter what he’s done.”

“Ashley already has the article. Don’t forget that.”

"You shouldn't have sent it in the first place,” Y/N said. “This is my job, and it's my career; you aren't allowed to make decisions like this on my behalf. At least the tape will buy me time.”

“That buys you two weeks, tops.”

“Then I’ll make the most of it.”

____________

THAT’D BEEN THE first stop on her damage control from the previous night, but she still had a long way to go. Lafayette was gracious enough to get her Dolley’s phone number; Y/N had a number of things she felt she needed to clear the air on, but her conversation with Dolley wasn’t exactly short.

Y/N spent the better part of two hours trying to convince her not to tell James what she’d heard. Apparently, she’d been holding her tongue since she walked in on them at the state dinner months before, but she felt like she’d learned too much the night prior to keep it from him.

She couldn’t tell James, though — at least, that was Y/N’s firm conviction. If she spilled everything to James, he’d have done everything in his power to keep Y/N away from their campaign. After all, since whatever there had been between her and Thomas was over, James didn’t need to worry about anyone’s conflict of interest.

Y/N’s throat tightened when she realized that.

But Dolley didn’t budge, and Y/N was ultimately forced to give up her desperate plea.

A week passed. Y/N returned to her normal schedule at the diner, and Thomas returned to avoiding those shifts whenever possible. (Although, according to Mira, he hadn't stopped by at all.) To the untrained eye, everything was business as usual; Y/N was working both her jobs, going to election events, and interviewing politicians, but to her, there was nothing usual about what she was doing.

She hardly slept that week. It wasn’t because of Thomas, she’d like to have claimed; she was just busy, balancing everything she needed done, working two jobs and trying to figure out what needed to happen for her to keep the Adams article from getting a green light. This was just how she was getting by.

So when Lafayette called her the next Friday, she almost didn’t pick up.

Or, really, she didn’t pick up until the fourth consecutive time he called.

“Hey, Lafayette.”

“What happened between you and Thomas?”

“What?” Y/N was curled up with her laptop on her couch, indulging in retail therapy against her better judgment. At his words, she furrowed her brow. Why was he bringing this up? Why would he have known? “What are you talking about?”

“Do not act as if you do not know what I am referring to,” Lafayette snapped. "He 'as not been 'imself since his fundraiser in North Carolina. So what happened?"

"I…" Y/N furrowed her brow as she processed Lafayette's words. Had he really taken it that poorly? Y/N knew he wasn't thrilled about the development between them; that much went without saying, but they both knew it was for the best. What Thomas wanted, she couldn't give him. Not then. "What d'you mean 'he hasn't been himself'? And why the hell do you think I have anything to do with it?"

“I do not know ‘ow to explain it, Y/N.” Lafayette sighed. “‘Ave you ‘eard from him recently? He 'as been… distant."

She swallowed hard at the question. "Not… not really. Why, what has he told you?"

"Nothing. And zat is exactly ze issue." His tone was short, and the words left little room for discussion. "Did you talk to him about ze article?"

"No, actually."

"...Really?" The surprise in Lafayette's voice was unmistakably genuine, and it made Y/N crease her brow.

“Yeah, um… why is that such a surprise? Did he say something?”

“No. He has ‘ardly spoken to me since ze fundraiser, and I cannot decipher why. I supposed zat something ‘ad happened between ze two of you because of your article, but…” He trailed off, and Y/N could hear in his voice just how stumped he was. “Did anything happen that night?”

“I mean, no, nothing important," she said, brow creased. "Why do you think I have something to do with this?"

“When I asked him what was wrong, ‘e told me to ask you,” Lafayette replied. "So here I am. There 'as to be something, Y/N."

“Don’t worry about it, Lafayette,” she said, rubbing her forehead as though it’d make her headache subside. “It doesn’t concern you.”

"So there is something zat you are not telling me." She winced at the accusation in his voice, but she couldn't claim that he was wrong.

"Okay, fine, but it wasn't a big deal. I swear."

“Perhaps not for you,” he countered, "but you should ‘ave seen Thomas.”

“Is he really doing that badly?” she asked hesitantly, unsure of whether she wanted to hear the answer. "Maybe he's just stressed."

“He has ‘ardly left his apartment, chérie. I went by earlier to check on him, and he would hardly speak to me. He looked like a mess.”

"What d'you mean 'looked like a mess'? Is he okay?" The question was hesitant. "He's, like, safe and everything, right?"

"Alors... he is safe, yes. But he is," --Lafayette hesitated for a long moment, and all that could be heard was static through the line-- "self-destructing, I suppose is ze term. I do not believe zat it is my place to share anything further, though."

"...Well, shit. I didn't think it was that serious."

“You did not think zat what was zat serious?" he asked, voice exasperated. "Can you not simply be forthcoming with me?"

“Nothing, like, big or tragic happened between us,” she said, and she could hear the defensive edge creeping into her own voice. “We just… talked, and we decided it was in both of our best interests to stop sleeping together. That’s all I have to tell you.”

“Zere ‘as to be more to ze story.” Lafayette’s voice, though muffled through the phone, had a stern undertone. “Please, do not withhold things. I am simply trying to help.”

“I don't know what to tell you, honestly,” she said. “What’s done is done. I can't help him anymore. He wouldn't want to see me.”

“Why did you decide to end things?” he asked. “My impression ze other day was that you were happy.”

She winced. That afternoon at Lafayette's place felt so long ago, after what'd changed. “It just had to happen.”

“Is it because you are publishing ze article?”

“I… no. It isn't.” She swallowed hard. Whether she was publishing it seemed like an extraneous detail.

“Then what happened? What did you say to ‘im?”

“I didn't say anything wrong. I've told you all that went down,” she insisted. “We just… You know we’re not in a relationship. The choice to stop all this was mutual.”

“Was it really?”

“Yes. He was the one who suggested it.” That much was true. However, she wasn’t sure how candid the suggestion had been when he initially brought it up. “Whatever's weighing on him, it has to be more than what happened with me. I don't think our conversation would've affected him all that much."

“Y/N, please, be straightforward with me. He told me to speak to you about zis." The concern in Lafayette's voice was neither light nor well-concealed. "I am worried about him. Zis is serious."

“Then I don’t know what it is,” she insisted, throwing a hand up in frustration. “I'm sorry, Lafayette. You know this wouldn't be something I'd want for him, but I can't help you.”

He sighed audibly. “I realize zat I will not be getting any more information from you, Y/N, but I am not done with trying to figure zis out.”

Y/N swallowed hard. “And I wish you the best of luck.”

____________

SHE WANTED THE weekend to herself after that. She didn't think Thomas would be taking this all so hard, but then again, she'd bottled everything up the moment she returned to D.C., pretended she'd believed every word she'd said to him, and she figured he'd do the same. It didn't seem like him to dwell.

And yet, there he was, dwelling, and so there she was, too, worrying about him. Her stomach was in knots.

Lafayette called her a number of times, sent her countless texts. He asked her to come over and talk to him about what happened, but she had no interest. He'd get nothing out of it, and she'd only feel worse. Besides, she couldn't run the risk of seeing Thomas in their building when she was there for Lafayette. He seemed to be unavoidable whenever she was there, but then again, maybe that was why Lafayette asked her over in the first place.

She called off all her shifts over the next couple of days, claiming a head cold, that she didn't want to get anyone else sick. Mira sounded skeptical, but she let her go.

Despite her reluctance to leave her apartment, though, when Dolley called and asked her to come over to talk, she was in a double bind. She hadn't told James anything yet, she said, and she wanted to hear what Y/N had to say about it all before she did. If she didn't want James to resent her until the end of time, she supposed she didn't have much of a choice. She was struggling to pinpoint why she still cared so much about his opinion of her, though.

But she thought she owed it to Thomas to try to contain the fallout.

“Hey, Dolley. Thanks for hearing me out.” She shrugged her coat off, left it on the bench beside the front door of James and Dolley’s house.

“Of course, dear. I figured it was only fair." Dolley gave her a sympathetic smile as she came to pull Y/N into a gentle hug. "Can I get you anything? I was about to make myself a cup of tea, but I could put on a pot of coffee, too, if you'd like."

"Actually, tea sounds really nice."

"Alright. You just sit tight, make yourself at home, and I'll be back in a minute."

Her mind was racing as she curled into Dolley’s couch, glancing around her house. She knew James wasn’t home, but she couldn’t help her paranoia that, somehow, he’d hear her, astral projecting from his lunch meeting into his bedroom.

But Dolley came back after putting the tea kettle on the stove, and Y/N had to get herself out of her head. She’d boiled her advocacy down into a nice, itemized list; Dolley took a seat beside her, and Y/N began giving her the hard sell.

I’ll spare you the details — after all, it’s everything you already know. You’d been there, a fly on the wall beside the hotel hot tub, and you know that Dolley telling James what she’d heard would accomplish nothing — he'd likely resent Y/N for it (not that she'd blame him; she knew the problem her relationship with Thomas presented for their campaign). However, with everything between her and Thomas having been put to an end, it'd accomplish nothing. James would have her barred from their events to prevent her from becoming a distraction, but it wouldn't change anything, by then, and only hinder her career.

And besides, she and James were friends. She didn't want the brief, silly fling she'd had with Thomas to ruin that.

She finished monologuing, and, as if on cue, the doorbell rang.

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at the door and then back at Dolley. "Were you expecting someone?"

"I—" The tea kettle started whistling, cutting her off abruptly as she turned her head back toward the kitchen. Dolley sighed. "Oh, hell. Would you mind getting that while I get the door? I need to go see who's here."

“Yeah, sure.” She went to the kitchen as Dolley stood to get the door, and she found that Dolley had made her life fairly easy. There sat two mugs and a box of teabags on a little wooden tray, so all she did was put the little kettle on a potholder before returning to Dolley’s living room.

She couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes, but when she came back, she and Dolley weren’t alone.

She nearly dropped the tray.

“Thomas?”

He and Dolley both looked up from where they sat on the couch.

“Y/N.” The minute he met her eyes, she froze. Lafayette was right — he looked like hell. The bags under his eyes were deep, and he clearly hadn’t shaved in several days. His beard was growing in patchy. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I…” She was struggling to speak past the lump in her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Dolley invited me.”

Her eyes widened as she turned. “What the hell, Dolley?”

“Oh, would you relax? You two need to talk, and you well know it,” Dolley snapped, and Y/N’s grip tightened on the handles of the tray she held. “Come here and sit down.”

“No. I...” She set the tray down on the side table nearest her, and Dolley furrowed her brow. “I'm leaving. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but there’s nothing more to say.”

"Come on, Y/N—"

"She's right, Doll," Thomas sighed. "We already ended things."

"Please, neither of you wanted to. You're just both too stubborn to say it."

"Don't act like you know the full story," Y/N scoffed.

"So you don't want to fix this?"

"There's nothing to fix." Dolley hummed skeptically as Y/N proceeded past her, grabbed her jacket from the bench by the door. "Thanks for having me, though. I'll see you."

"If either of you leaves, I'm telling James everything."

She paused. "Dolley, you can't—"

"I can, and I will. Now, get back here."

"This is blackmail."

"I won't deny that." Dolley raised an expectant eyebrow when Y/N turned back to her. "Are you going to come sit down, or was this a waste of both our afternoons?"

“Dolley.”

“Would you two like a minute to yourselves?”

“I…” She didn’t answer, instead turning to Thomas, waiting for any sort of a cue. He was watching her, though, and when their eyes met, both of them fell silent. She swallowed hard.

“That might be best.” Thomas’s words were soft, but Y/N couldn’t speak, not with the lump that was building in her throat. Dolley glanced between them, and maybe she could see the silent dread in Y/N’s eyes, but she didn’t say another word, just nodded before she left the room. And with that, Y/N and Thomas were alone.

She swallowed hard. When she finally took a seat, it was on the far end of the couch. Y/N felt certain that Dolley’s draping coats and resting books on every other chair in the room was deliberate.

He was the first to speak.

"So, what're you doin' here, then?"

"Dolley invited me, too." She pursed her lips. "I came to talk to her about… everything she heard."

"Why?" Thomas looked genuinely bewildered, but Y/N didn't understand his confusion.

"I was trying to convince her not to talk to James about it." She shrugged. "I mean, it's not like it's worth her telling him now. It wouldn't change anything."

"Then why d'you care if he knows?"

"I…" She trailed off, unsure whether there was any delicate way to say that she didn't want him to be on the receiving end of any hostility from James just because he'd fucked her a few times. She didn't think he deserved that. "I guess I'd rather James not think I'm sleeping around to get ahead."

"'N you're really that worried about his opinion of you?"

"More than I should be." Her voice was quiet. "Anyway, what issue do you have with that? This whole thing affects you, too, you know."

"Oh, believe me, I know." He huffed, folded his arms as he sat back against the couch cushions. "I, er… I came for the same reason. Didn't want James chewin' me out over it."

“James loves you. Even if she does tell him, you know he won’t be able to be angry about it.”

“James ‘s one of my oldest friends,” he agreed, “but when we’re workin’ together, that doesn’t matter anymore. He’d be furious.”

“Even after the fact?”

He shrugged. “We knew everything we were putting at risk here. He’d tell me my priorities weren’t in the right place, or that I shoulda been taking our campaign more serious than… whatever you ‘n I were doin’.”

“Then I guess it’s good that we stopped,” Y/N replied weakly.

“Yeah.” Thomas didn’t meet her eyes. There was a long moment of silence after that; she could tell his mind was elsewhere with the absent stare he wore, fixed on the ottoman of one of the armchairs, but his brow was furrowed. He was deep in thought. She pursed her lips. “What were you gonna say that night?”

The question caught her off guard; her eyes widened, and he looked up calmly to meet her eyes, wearing an inquisitive look.

“What?”

“The night of my fundraiser.” She pressed her lips together into a thin line. “When Dolley came in, she cut you off. I haven’t been able to keep my mind off’a it.”

God, she hated how he was always so blunt. He always spoke his mind, always said what he was thinking, and it was one of the things that scared Y/N most about him. He hadn’t been able to keep his mind off of that one little moment, that fragmented sentence.

“I… I don’t remember.” Her answer was honest, but Thomas wasn’t satisfied.

"You never meant to…?"

"Hm?” Y/N furrowed her brow, and Thomas's noncommittal shrug didn't help much. “'I never meant to' what?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out."

Oh. She pursed her lips, and her movements were hesitant. She knew what he was talking about — that'd been the last thing she said before their tense conversation ended abruptly the night of his fundraiser. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Thomas scoffed. “Really? I don’t even deserve the truth about this?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are.” His tone was unshakeable; he was beyond convinced of his words, and Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “After everything we’ve been through, I know you better than this.”

“And what have we been through? Hm? Fucking on your kitchen counter? I’m sorry to say it, but I’m not quite sure that’s the peak of intimacy.”

“Yeah, alright,” he acquiesced, “but what about all the time we didn’t spend fucking?”

“I…” Y/N trailed off, her jaw tight, entire body tense. “We both knew that was why we were together in the first place. I stayed over because I didn’t wanna travel through the city in the middle of the night. There wasn’t much more to it.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we both know that if you really just wanted to get into my pants, there was no need for you to spend so much time at mine.” His tone was frustratingly condescending, but he was right. “Don’t tell me the reason you made dinner with me, watched all my cheesy old movies, even watered my damn plants was ‘cause I give good head.”

Y/N scowled. "Fine. I like spending time with you. But that doesn't make us anything more than friends."

He hummed in acquiescence, giving a subdued shrug. "Guess not. Making out on the kitchen counter does that well enough, though."

"Okay, we were friends with benefits," she conceded, but Thomas didn't look quite satisfied. "What? What's wrong with that? We're friends, and we slept together."

"Don't try and tell me this is all in my head." Thomas scowled. "Yeah, we slept together. But we did a lot more than that. I know very well I'm not delusional for thinking something more was goin' on there."

“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” Y/N scoffed. “You know it was never like that; it wasn’t what I wanted.”

“No, I know.” Thomas shifted on the couch to face her, and his gaze was heavy with scrutiny, with skepticism. “You didn’t wanna get too involved. You made all that clear as day.”

“Then what’s the problem?” The undertone of irritation in his voice was putting her on edge, and he let out a dry, breathy laugh, shaking his head.

“That you’ve been lyin’ to me.”

“What? I never—”

“I don’t mean your intentions. You never wanted us to be more than friends. That’s just fine,” he reasoned, and how measured his tone was made Y/N furrow her brow. “But what I wanna know now is if you did end up gettin’ more attached than you meant to.”

“I… ?” Her voice was breathless. It sounded as though his question had knocked the wind out of her, but Thomas just continued to watch her expectantly.

“You heard me. You know what I’m askin’.”

“Does it matter?” she asked, but the words sounded hoarse. She could feel her hands trembling where she rested them on her thighs, and she folded her arms to hide it. She didn’t want Thomas to see how uneasy she was.

“It does to me.” He pursed his lips, leaned forward to rest on his forearms on his thighs. Y/N didn’t respond. “If you’re not gonna gimme an answer on that, the least you can do is tell me what you were gonna say that night. Just give me something to go on here.”

“It won’t change anything.” Her voice was heavy.

“Then just tell me." He sounded tired. "I can't go on wondering if this was all in my head."

“Thomas…”

“Please,” he said. “What’d you ‘never mean to’ do?”

“Hurt you.” Her words were nearly inaudible as she stared down at her legs, unable to bring herself to look up and see how he was watching her. “Which feels silly to say now, but it’s the truth.”

His jaw was tight. He nodded. “Great.” He let out a heavy breath, leaned back off of his legs to sit up in his chair. “Great. ‘M gonna go tell Dolley we’re finished with talking. Don’t think there’s anything else to say.”

Y/N’s eyes were wide as he stood, particularly as she hadn’t moved an inch. “Wait, what?” He looked down at her with an expectant eyebrow raised when he went to grab his coat. She frowned. “I mean, yeah, sure, fine. But…”

“But what?” Thomas immediately challenged it when she trailed off, shaking her head.

“But that’s it?” she asked. “You’re just gonna leave now after you pressed for me to tell you that?”

He let out a humorless, breathy laugh. “‘Course I am. What else am I supposed to do with, ‘oh, I never meant to hurt you, Thomas’?”

Y/N wrinkled her nose at his mocking impression of her voice, taken aback by his shift in demeanor. “I don’t know. You’re the one who kept asking.”

“Mm, you’re right. My bad, sweetheart.” His tone was mocking as he pulled his arms into the sleeves of his coat, shrugged it onto his shoulders. He glanced back at the doors to the rest of the house. “‘S Dolley in the kitchen? Hang on a sec.”

“Hey, wait, slow down,” Y/N said, and she sounded affronted.

“What? You don’t wanna leave?”

“I… yeah, but…” She frowned. “Why do you sound so angry? What did I do?”

“I’m not angry.” The strain in his nonchalant gaze and his clenched jaw both said otherwise. “I can just appreciate some good irony, ‘s all.”

“What?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean,” he said. “You’re too smart for that, c’mon.”

“I got the implication,” she replied, struggling to keep her tone in check, “but no, I don’t know what you mean by it. What have I done to wrong you so sincerely? Hm?”

“Oh, please, I can’t do this again.” His frustration was unbridled in his voice. “Hasn’t even been a week since we went over it. Try ‘n think.”

“Do you mean in North Carolina?”

“When else?”

She huffed. “Alright, fine, but I don’t know what you want me to say to that. Do you really want to re-hash that argument?”

“Not in the least. ‘S why I’m leavin’,” he said frankly. “You take care of yourself, now.”

“Wait, come on,” she protested, finally standing up alongside him. “You seem even more mad now than you did last week. What’s your problem?”

He raised an eyebrow, and the amusement in his small smile was sardonic. “Right now? Sugar, you’re my problem. What’s hard to understand about that?”

How condescending his tone was made Y/N grit her teeth. “Then what do you want from me? What am I doing so incredibly wrong right now that I deserve—?”

“Same thing you’ve been doin’,” he spat. “Pretending to care about me ‘n then turnin’ around and makin' me feel silly for believing it."

"Hey, what?" The offense she took was clear in her voice. "Of course I care about you."

"Oh, save it. There's nothing to prove anymore. No need for the act."

"What the fuck do you mean 'act'?" He rolled his eyes at her question, went back to buttoning up his coat, and she scoffed. "I'm still talking to you."

"'N you're not sayin' anything I haven't heard."

"Then what do you want from me?" she asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. He looked her dead in the eye.

"Something you can't give me."

She was stunned to silence for only a moment after his biting words, and as he finished putting his coat on, she drew in a shuddering breath. "So that's what this is about. You're angry because I haven't sucked your dick in a couple weeks."

He huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "Please. If I needed to get off, I could go anywhere I wanted."

"Oh, right, because the women are lining up down the street to fuck you."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," he snapped.

"Then what do you mean?" She folded her arms, raised her eyebrows.

He paused for a moment, tongue burrowed into the corner of his cheek as he watched her. "I mean that I actually want you. Am I not bein' clear enough? I don't just wanna fuck you once in a while 'n then pretend to be strangers. But I have no idea what the hell you want from me, so I'm leaving. You can tell Dolley I said g'night."

"I will," she replied. "And I'm sure James will love hearing everything Dolley knows about us hooking up. Have fun dealing with that fallout."

He let out a mirthless laugh. "Thanks. Whatever he has to say, it'll be much easier than havin' to deal with you."

––––––––––––––––––––

mailto: [email protected]

Ashley:

I hope this email finds you well. Thank you so much for all your feedback on the Adams article; it’s been incredibly helpful in my redrafting process. However, many of the claims he makes about Jefferson’s past remain unsubstantiated, and I have faced numerous obstacles in finding a source who is willing to corroborate. None of Jefferson’s contacts who know him well enough to confirm or deny are willing to comment. As such, I am reaching out to request a two-week postponement on the publishing of the article while I straighten out the facts supporting it.

Thank you in advance,

Y/N L/N

––––––––––––––––––––

THOMAS’S WORDS HAD stung. He left that day with no further ado, and Y/N was left dwelling in the days that followed. She couldn't help but wince every time she recalled what happened. Her guilt was weighing on her even heavier than before.

"Mija, where is the order for Marcus?"

It was Mira's voice that broke her train of thought, pulled her out of her head. She blinked hard and found herself in the middle of absentmindedly assembling a sandwich. She checked the receipt— shit. Marcus had specifically asked for no mayo.

Y/N huffed as she trashed the bread and pulled out another roll. A minute later, she slid his order out in a basket complete with fries and a pickle, yelled it out over the counter, and went on to the next one. They were closing in ten minutes: why the hell were there still orders to make?

She slumped against the kitchen counter, resting on her hands against it after she finished the lobster roll for Sriya. Mira walked in to her left.

"Ay, this mess," she huffed, untying her apron and scrunching her nose as she surveyed the room. Y/N nodded, her blank stare not leaving the floor in front of her. Mira furrowed her brow. "Oye, you with me?"

Again, she nodded absently, and Mira frowned, folded her arms. "And you are happy to wash all these dishes, too? I can leave you here to mop the floors?"

The robotic nod she received in return made her sigh. "Mija." She snapped her fingers; Y/N visibly jumped, eyes wide. She looked at Mira. "What is wrong, hm? Why are you acting dumb?"

"Hey, uncalled for," Y/N defended herself, wearing a small frown as she looked over at Mira's impatient expression. "I'm just distracted."

"By what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know… work, I guess."

"You are at work," Mira pointed out, and Y/N sighed.

"You know I mean my other job. There's a lot on my mind. I'm sorry if I've been slacking here."

"Mm. Apology accepted," she said, and Y/N could only roll her eyes.

"Glad to hear it."

"But actually talk to me now, hm? You are giving me half answers." Mira raised an eyebrow, hands on her hips. Y/N pursed her lips.

"It's not a huge deal. Just an article I've been working on," she said. Her stare was absent. After a minute, she cleared her throat. "But hey, um, sorry to change the subject, but can I ask, has Thomas Jefferson been around here lately?"

"'To change the subject,'" Mira repeated skeptically. "So he is your problem. It is always a man."

Y/N furrowed her brow. "I thought you loved Thomas."

"Sí, sí, pero te quiero más," Mira replied matter-of-factly. Y/N couldn't help her small smile. "You know you always come first for me."

"Thanks," she said softly.

"But why do you care about Thomas Jefferson coming here now? Hm?" Mira asked, making Y/N frown. She assumed she was off the hook. "All you ever do is complain about him. Shouldn't you be happy?"

"So he hasn't been coming here?"

"Ah, ah. My question first."

Y/N shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. I just haven't seen him during my shifts. I was curious."

Mira paused, eyeing her skeptically for a moment before she pulled her apron off over her head and folded it in her hands. "Yes, he has been by."

"Really? When?"

She nodded. "He was here yesterday."

"Did he seem… okay?"

Mira paused. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno." She shifted under Mira's disbelieving gaze. "I've heard he hasn't made many public appearances recently. Just wondering if something was going on."

"He seemed fine." Mira tossed her apron onto the counter. Y/N nodded, pressing her lips together. "He asked about you."

She froze. "He did?"

"He did," she confirmed. "Why did he ask about you?"

“What? I don’t know.” Her brow was furrowed, and her tone was defensive. “What did he ask?”

“The same thing you asked me about him. What is going on?”

“Nothing, I don’t—”

“No me mientas. I saw him leaving on a Saturday morning two months ago when I came in to open.” Mira’s tone was sharp, and Y/N’s stomach dropped. “I am not stupid; simply tell me what is happening."

“Mira, it’s really not what you think; he was just here while I was closing, and it was the night of that horrible blizzard, and his car wouldn’t start, and the roads were closed…”

“So you had an innocent little slumber party with Thomas Jefferson?”

“I just let him stay here for the night,” Y/N defended. “He didn’t really have any other options.”

“So why is he coming around here asking after you?” Mira folded her arms, and when Y/N shrugged, she sighed. “Please be honest with me. It is obvious that there is something more going on than you want to admit.”

Y/N’s long moment of silence following her words told Mira more than Y/N meant to divulge. Mira pursed her lips.

“Por favor, dime. I am only asking because I care about you.”

“Well, I appreciate it, but there’s nothing to be worried about,” Y/N assured her. “I’m obviously fine, and he’s apparently doing alright as well, so there’s no problem. I’ll come talk to you if there ever is.”

Mira looked her over as she cleaned up the counter she stood before. “Are you really doing fine, though?”

Y/N went to take out the trash.

–––––––––––––––––––––

SHE SETTLED BACK into her usual closing shifts at the diner within the week, returning to working the dinner rush. She could only feign illness to stay away for so long, and this wasn’t the shift Thomas typically came in during, anyway. Besides, she needed the money more than she needed to avoid him.

That week passed with little intrigue, limited to her favorite (and least favorite) customers alongside a surprise appearance from Lafayette on Wednesday night. Thankfully, he showed up during peak hours, so it wasn’t difficult to evade his questions under the guise of taking care of other customers. She assumed he left shortly after he came, but around an hour later, she noticed him in the back corner chatting animatedly with the old man who always ordered nothing but coffee and read his newspaper for hours. She couldn’t help but smile.

She was slowly walking back information from her article about Thomas, claiming she had another source denying the validity of its original claims, but she wasn’t sure her editor was buying it. Ashley was impatient, and her approach had always been to publish first and follow up later. It was surely only a matter of days, maybe a week, before the article went live without anyone corroborating it. Y/N was operating on stolen time.

But at that point, it couldn’t be her greatest concern.

The following Wednesday was slow at both the office and the diner. Thomas hadn’t appeared much in public since his fundraiser in North Carolina, so Y/N didn’t have much to write about to distract her from the exposé she was doing her best to stall. She had resorted to redundant think pieces about his economic policy platform.

When she arrived at the diner for the night, Y/N was already counting the hours until she could curl up with a glass of wine and watch Parks and Rec until she passed out on the couch. She’d take a night with Aubrey Plaza over her regulars any day.

She was working the kitchen with Jac until Mira left for the night, pushing Y/N to the register in her place. It wouldn’t have been a problem for her if not for the first face she saw when Mira brought her out to the front.

He was absentmindedly checking his phone when she approached, and she cleared her throat as she stepped up to the register. He looked up, and his eyes went wide.

"Hey." She spoke first. "What can I get you?"

"Hey." His voice was hesitant. "Sorry, I… thought you didn't work Wednesdays anymore."

She didn't meet his eyes, staring past him at the diner's patrons as she tapped her fingernails on the counter. "This is my usual shift."

"I know, but Lafayette said…" He trailed off, shaking his head. She raised her eyebrows, finally looking directly at him. His eyes were bloodshot. "Nevermind. 'M sorry. Can I get a roast beef on rye and a cappuccino to go?"

"Yeah. It'll be out shortly." Her words were soft, absentminded as she eyed him. He looked more put-together than she'd seen him when they were at Dolley’s, but the heavy frames of his glasses didn't hide the growing bags under his eyes.

He nodded, leaning down to pay, signing the screen before him. "Thanks, sweetheart."

He was tucking his card back into his wallet as he spoke, and as her eyes widened, he froze, both of them processing his words at the same time. He didn't say another word, though. He sighed as he turned to walk away, and she didn't interrupt him.

She sent his order to the kitchen and grabbed a cup for his coffee, marking it with his name. She stared at it for a long moment before glancing back up at him. He was seated at a table by the end of the bar, typing frantically on his phone.

They had his order out for him in around five minutes, and it was Jac who called it out to the dining room when he put it on the bar. Y/N went ahead and made his coffee herself, forcibly switching places with her coworker to transfer herself off of the register, and she was finishing it right as he came up to collect his sandwich.

"Cappuccino for Thomas?"

Her voice was weak as she met him at the end of the counter, and he gave her a halfhearted smile.

"Thanks."

As she handed him the cup, his fingers brushed against hers, and she couldn't bring herself to let go.

"Give me a call?" she asked quietly when he met her gaze. Her eyes were hopeful, and he swallowed thickly.

"Take care of yourself." His tone was impersonal as he broke her stare. She pursed her lips. He pulled the cup from her shaking hands.

––––––––––––––––––––

THOMAS DIDN'T CALL. Y/N wasn't sure she was really expecting him to after how he came in on Wednesday and made it clear that he'd been trying to avoid her. Still, her heart rate picked up every time she received a notification, not letting her rest until she had confirmed it wasn't him. She was let down every time.

She was the last employee there before they closed on Friday, as Jac had to leave early for a date, so she was left wiping down the counters as she waited for the final few customers to make their way out of the diner.

She looked up when the bell above the door rang, expecting the last person to be leaving, but instead, Thomas Jefferson was walking in. Her eyebrows shot up.

She came over to meet him at the register. "Did Lafayette also tell you I wasn't working Fridays?"

"Nah. 'M actually here to see you," he said. His expression was blank, his tone businesslike. "You did ask me to call, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Her voice was small. "At this point, I didn't think you were gonna."

"I didn't plan to." They both glanced over as the bell above the door chimed again, letting them know the last person had left the diner. "But it's been on my mind. I don't have time for that typa distraction, which is why I'm here."

"Right," she said softly. "Can I get you anything?"

"Coffee would be great if it's not too much trouble."

"Of course." The coffee pot was still hot and sitting under the machine, so it didn't take her long to pour him a cup in one of the mugs she'd just cleaned (one cream, two sugars). She turned back to hand it to him. "Here you go."

"Thanks." He accepted it as he sat down across the counter from her, putting it down in front of him. When he pulled out his wallet, Y/N raised an eyebrow, and when he started fishing out bills, she couldn't help but sigh.

"Put your money away; this is on the house," she said, and he glanced up with his dark brow knit.

"You should know by now that I can't be bought."

Her eyes widened at his words, and she looked him over skeptically for a moment as he put his wallet away. He held her gaze for another moment, watching her expectantly, and after a beat passed, the corners of his lips quirked up, giving the only indication that he might be joking. She rolled her eyes.

"How could I forget about your impeccable morals?"

"No idea." He reached for his coffee, and he took a delicate sip as she leaned against the counter across from him. "Why'd you ask me to call?"

"I wanted to talk to you, but I didn't think a text would cut it."

"What do we have left to say right now?" The bluntness of his question caught her off guard, and her eyebrows shot up as he watched her expectantly. "The conversation we had at Dolley's made it pretty clear any talk we had was gonna be more of the same."

She frowned, crossing her arms in front of her as she drew back from the counter. "If you think this is a waste of time then why did you bother to come here?"

"I don't think this is a waste of time," he defended. "I'm just not sure what you want from it."

"I don't know if you do, but I still have more to say," she said. He raised an eyebrow.

"Then why didn't you say it while we were at Dolley’s?"

"Because we started fighting, and you were angry, and I…" She sighed. "I didn't know how to. You had every right to be angry, but I didn't want to think I was in the wrong."

"So what's changed?" he asked, watching her expectantly.

She shrugged hesitantly, looking down at her hands on the counter. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you said. I felt bad, and… I've been worried about you."

"You've been worried about me?" he repeated skeptically, and when she looked up, she didn't like the disdainful look in his eyes.

"I have." When his disbelieving stare didn't budge, she sighed. "The last couple times I've seen you, you haven't seemed like yourself. You looked… tired."

"'Course I'm tired; I'm running a presidential campaign," he said flatly, and Y/N pursed her lips.

"I know, but then Lafayette called, and…" She trailed off when Thomas huffed. "I dunno. Mira told me you asked about me, and then Lafayette started talking like he knew something I didn't. So I was worried."

"Of course Lafayette called," he scoffed. "He can't just stay out of our damn lives, can he?"

"He means well," she reasoned, but he looked unimpressed.

"He needs to learn a thing or two about boundaries," Thomas said, "but I'm doing just fine. If that's all you wanted to talk about, I can head out."

"No, c'mon," she pleaded. "I didn't bring you here just for that. Bear with me."

Thomas said nothing but raised an expectant eyebrow as he took another sip of his coffee, waiting for her to continue.

"The real reason I wanted to talk is because I owe you an apology. Several apologies, really."

He put down his mug, leaning back in his chair. "What for?"

"You know what for." She gave him a tired look, and he shrugged innocently.

"Maybe." He drummed his fingers on the ceramic absentmindedly, watching them bounce on its glossy surface. "But I wanna know if you know what you're apologizin' for."

The bored look he wore made her feel small. She swallowed.

"I'm sorry for treating you how I did."

"You're gonna have to be more specific."

"I think if I tried to be specific we'd be here quite a while."

"I've got time."

"It's late."

"You don't have work tomorrow." He paused, considering himself. "As far as I know, that is. Won't pretend I still know your schedule."

"It hasn’t changed as much as I pretended it did,” she said quietly. “So I guess I’ll start there. I’m sorry for lying to you about my schedule and trying to pretend I hadn’t been avoiding you. I should’ve been upfront when you asked about it.”

“Yeah, you shoulda," he agreed with a nonchalant shrug. "I never got an explanation on why you were avoidin’ me either, but with how you started deflecting when I asked about other men, I’m not sure I want one.”

“Woah, I wasn’t deflecting anything about other men,” she defended, brow creased. “I told you in no uncertain terms that I had no desire to hook up with Lafayette, and you decided to push that and scrutinize my dating life.”

He rolled his eyes. “‘S great to know you and Lafayette aren’t sleeping together, but you can’t pretend you were straightforward with me.”

“What was I not being clear about?”

“You’re really gonna make me do this again?” Thomas huffed, glancing to his right as disbelief flashed in his eyes. “I dunno why you wanted to talk to me if we were just gonna rehash this.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Every time I've asked whether you were sleeping with other people, you told me you didn’t owe me that information, ‘n it all became some big fight about me actin’ controlling,” he said. “If you don’t wanna tell me, fine, but don’t act like you’ve been transparent. We both know you’re keeping me in the dark for a reason.”

“I’m not, actually,” she said, looking him in the eye. “I haven’t been with anyone else. Not in any capacity. If I were having sex with other people, I would’ve been asking you to be a lot more careful.”

“So you didn’t call me up to tell me I needa get tested for chlamydia?”

“No, just syphilis.” Her tone was lighthearted, but Thomas didn’t offer any sign of amusement. She cleared her throat. “You’re the only person I’ve been with since we met, so the last thing you have to worry about is me passing on some incurable STI.”

“You haven’t slept with anyone else since I’ve known you?” There was surprise in his creased eyes as he fixated on the first part of her sentence. She shrugged.

“I guess I haven't.” She eyed his incredulous stare. "I didn't think this would be that shocking, either."

"You've been careful as possible to make that unclear," he said. "So if there's nobody else, then why all the lyin'? If you wanted space, you coulda just said so. I'm an adult; I can handle it."

"I know you can," she said quietly. She rubbed at a smudge on the countertop, trying to avoid his gaze. "I just… I've felt guilty about being with you and… whatever this is. Whatever we are. So much happened so fast between us, and the more time I spend in the outside world the more I feel like it was a mistake."

"'A mistake'?" The hurt in his tone was clear, and she sighed, resting her forehead on one of her hands.

"I don't mean it like that, but you know what the reality is here. We knew it from the start."

"I shouldn't have come here," he muttered, setting down his mug and moving to stand. Her eyes widened.

"Wait, hear me out," she pleaded, but he was off of his seat, buttoning his coat. "I got a lot more attached to you than I meant to, alright?"

That stopped him cold.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you said at Dolley's, and I'm sorry I spent so much time deflecting." She pursed her lips, watching him hopefully, and when he met her eyes, his tense shoulders softened. "I really like being with you, but with what our lives are, we can't be doing this. We’re not good for each other."

"I never asked you for any kind of a commitment," he defended. "You shoulda just told me if you didn't wanna do it anymore."

"I do want to keep doing it, though, and that's why it's such a problem." She sighed, her back sagging as she leaned against the counter. "I got too close. It's ruined all my objectivity as a journalist."

"You're good at your job," he reasoned. "The way you write about me's gotten more nuanced. I don't think that's a bad thing, sweetheart."

"No, you don't get it. This is a presidential race, and as a frontrunner, people have had enough of hearing about your politics. They get it by now. They want to hear about you and your ugly past and all the things that make you an unqualified leader." Her voice sounded hopeless, and it made him frown. "You've told me too much for me to play it straight. I care too much to be able to decide what the public does and doesn't need to know. I got this assignment because I wanted to serve up your dirty laundry on a silver platter, but I don't think I have it in me after everything that's happened."

"There's not much in my past worth hiding."

"Isn't there?"

"If I've made it this this far into my career without bein' hurt by what I do behind closed doors, I'm not afraid of anything you're gonna dig up."

"You were an alcoholic."

His wide eyes snapped to hers, and she didn't dare speak.

"'N how the hell d'you know about that?"

"So it's true?" she asked quietly.

"I was grieving my goddamn fiancée. She was all I had; I was surviving," he snapped, and she pursed her lips. "You try losing the love of your life 'n tell me it doesn't screw with your head."

"I don't blame you, Thomas, and I'm not judging you." Her soft words didn't save her from his skeptical gaze. "I’m sorry that you went through that. You didn’t deserve a second of it. But now that I know this, I’m supposed to publish an article about it. My editor wants to make this front page news, but I want to kill the story because I got too close to you."

"If I was anybody else, would you even know about this?"

"I got this information from an interview." She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. "My source wants to remain anonymous, but it's sound enough to publish without someone else corroborating it."

"Are you tellin' me you're planning to publish an article about me bein' an alcoholic?" His voice was incredulous; he watched her as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. The look in her eyes was pained.

"I don't want to," she said. "I don't want to make this public because I care too much about you. I don't even know whether this would be a fair article for someone to write because I've lost all perspective on writing about you."

"So don't write the article," he said, and she could barely stand to look at the worry in his eyes. "'S all in the past. I'm under control now; 's not who I am. That was me at my worst."

"My editor already knows about the interview," Y/N said softly, and she winced at the dread she saw flash in his expression. "If I don't publish this, someone else will, and I'll lose my job in the process."

"Who did the interview this came from?"

"I did." Her words were tearful.

"Then you can still stop this," he said firmly. "Refuse to write about it. Don't send your boss the notes from the interview, or the tape, or whatever you've got."

"Thomas, it's already written."

Her words struck him silent, and all he could do for a moment was stare at her in disbelief.

"I'm trying to stop it from running. It's a rough draft, so my editor still needs me to—"

"I opened up to you about my fiancée's death, 'n you just turned around and wrote an article about it?" His quiet voice was heavy with hurt.

"It's not about that. It doesn't even mention Martha, and my editor doesn't know about any of that," she pleaded. "My source doesn’t know about her, so nobody else has to. But there are people out there trying to crush your campaign who know about your struggle with addiction. The information’s out there; it’s only a matter of time before someone goes public with it."

“So you figured you may as well fast-track destroyin’ my reputation? You wanna tell the whole world who I was in my weakest moments?”

“Wouldn’t you rather the story be written by someone sympathetic to what you’ve been through?” she asked. “If I withhold the source from my editor, she can’t run the story, I lose my job, and some asshole who wants to see you suffer casts this all in a much harsher light.”

“All I’m askin’ for is time,” he pleaded. “We’re in the middle of the primaries; if this comes out now, I’m through.”

“I’ve delayed it for as long as I can. My editor wants a final draft by the end of next week.”

“The end of next week,” he repeated softly, looking down at the counter. His teeth were gritted; his jaw tense, but he was eerily still. Y/N felt sick. “You asked me to come here to apologize and tell me you cared about me just so that you could, what, feel better about yourself before you stabbed me in the back?”

“I felt bad about how we left things.”

“And this is so much better.” His voice was harsh, thick with irony as he looked up at her. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You have some goddamn audacity, trying to make peace with me knowing damn well you just wrote an article that’s gonna destroy everything I’ve been working for.”

“This isn’t going to kill your career. It won’t even kill your campaign; the primaries are almost over, and you’ve won. You’re the candidate; take your victory lap,” she said, and the source of the indignation in her voice was hard to pin down. “I’ve been writing articles for months in opposition to your presidential run, and you never cared. We even laughed about it. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that there’s finally some news that might make a dent.”

“This isn’t the same thing, and you know it,” he snapped, rising from his seat as his hand hit the countertop. His mug clattered against the surface.

“And what’s so different? I’ve said the harshest things about your career that I could think of; no matter how bad it got, you were still texting me on Friday nights asking me to come over.”

“This isn’t about my career. This is about me.” The words were firm, and he looked Y/N dead in the eye as he said them. “You don’t care about me; you care about climbin’ corporate ladders ‘n being national news. Nobody who really cared would be able to hear about what I’ve been through ‘n capitalize on it.”

“It’s not like that, Thomas, I—”

“Don’t call me,” he cut her off abruptly as he buttoned his coat. “Don’t text me, don’t talk to me, and don’t come near me. I’ve had enough of this goddamn game you’ve been playing, and I’m done having this conversation over and over again where I give you the benefit of the doubt n’ all you do is remind me that I’m expendable.”

“Wait, don’t—”

“I said I’m done,” he said. “And we’re done. You… you need to take a long, hard look at yourself before letting anybody else into your life.”

Y/N could barely speak with the lump building in her throat. She could barely breathe. Her eyes stung as she looked up at him, and she was afraid to move. All she could manage, her voice hoarse, was, “I’m sorry.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

When he walked out, he didn’t look back.

#freedom of the press #hamilton #alexander hamilton #hamilton film #hamilton fic #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson fanfic #thomas jefferson imagines #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson x reader #jefferson imagine #jefferson fic #Jefferson #jefferson x reader #Jefferson x reader imagine #thomas jefferson x reader smut #jefferson x reader imagines #hamilton x reader #hamilton x reader imagines #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs imagine #daveed x reader #daveed imagine #lafayette #marquis de lafayette x reader #lafayette x reader #lafayette x reader imagines #lafayette x reader smut #lafayette x reader imagine

[just2bubbly]

So apparently I decided to write fluff after a long long time and I'm quite proud of myself for that! :)

Masterlist

Romantic Diversions

Ship: Kaider

Words: 925

Genre: Fluff

Kai's Perspective:

Dhsam!

The door was opened with a loud bang which caused Kai to stir from his work. This uninvited disturbance gave rise to subtle anger and he was ready to pounce on the individual who had decided to barge in his cabin in such a dramatic fashion. 

Regardless, he didn't do any of that since the person who was standing at the door was his own wife. He smiled at her sight, expecting the generic 'Did I disturb you?' from her but she had more surprising cards up her sleeves today. Her theatrical entry just led to an even bigger bouncy voice. 

"I can't believe you did that?!" she cried as she pulled a seat before him. That phrase left him more baffled than ever. Cinder wasn't the one for dramatic flair if truth be told- he was the theatre kid out of the two. 

"What did I do?" he questioned, the file he was working on completely forgotten. 

"Look," she said as she passed the tablet to him. Kai was really curious about what he had done that had got Cinder so excited so he looked into the screen without asking any further questions. 

The screen played a video: 

"Your Majesty, would you like to say anything about the lack of apprehension-" some reporter asked before being interrupted by another.

Kai was not expecting to be chased by a mass of reporters as he flew back home. Alas, he was having a press conference in the airport parking lot right now and he definitely wasn't prepared for this one. 

"Goodness, is that Dr Alan Coetze I see there," he exclaimed- seeing the familiar face of the scientist who talked in a language Kai wasn't quite fluent in. Cinder used to love watching his shows and Kai had seen them from time to time too.

"My wife, the Empress is a big fan of Dr Coetze. You would have to excuse me. I need to have his autograph. My wife would be sorely disappointed if I let down this chance," he explained as he tried making his way towards his saviour. 

The press seemed taken aback by his words, having a hard time believing that it was the Emperor gushing about a European scientist who had just won the Nobel Peace Prize for his thesis. 

"But you are the Emperor, Your Majesty-" someone argued, trying to put sense in him. 

"So what? You don't have any idea how inconsiderate intelligent people are towards royalty," he noted. His arguments made little sense but he needed an escapade and this crazily intelligent man that was standing a few yards from him was going to give him exactly that. 

"Your Majesty, you don't- " 

"I understand it's your work but you do have to be a little understanding about my situation too. My anniversary is getting closer and what better gift than the autograph of Dr Alan Coetze. You would have to excuse me for now. However I promise you, there will be a press conference in New Beijing and I look forward to seeing you all there." 

..

"Oh goodness!" Kai laughed and looked up, his wife's contagious smile made him smile more. 

"I can't believe you said it!" she gushed again. 

"Well, I had a flight to attend and the press wasn't going anywhere. I had to make some diversions," he elaborated, passing the tablet back to her. If he knew anything, he was sure this news was everywhere by now. 

"You're telling me the world's best diplomat needed a romantic diversion?"

"You're never gonna let this one go, are you?" he asked, knowing very well the answer to that question, instead he focused on signing the bottom of the page. 

"That isn't going to be the problem. Next press conference everyone is going to talk about this and this only," she pointed out, forgetting to mention that she too was going to make multiple jokes at his expense. 

He glanced at her, thinking how if these small diversions were what made her smile ear to ear then Kai would be likely to commit more of them every now and then. 

"Nothing that a small 'I love my wife' can't suffice." 

"Which reminds me - you said 'my wife' so many times throughout the entire thing." 

"I have a lovely wife. You can't forbid me from bringing her up all the damn time," he said. 

"Stars, I can't believe you," she continued to say, glancing back at the video before whispering, "I love my wonderful husband too." 

"Shh, don't let my wife hear about this. She gets quite protective," he smirked, throwing a wink in her direction. 

That made her chuckle again as she leaned over the desk to whisper in his ear, "Where's my autograph, Your Majesty?"

He tipped to stare into her brown orbs and replied, "I think I said it was an anniversary gift."

Before closing the inches between the two, he murmured, "Wait your time kitten." Cinder captured his lips with hers, her hands holding the back of his neck. One of his hands spread across her cheek, as he deepened the -

Tring! Tring!

The kiss was cut short by the comm that rang through Cinder's tablet and both of them groaned over it. 

"I'd see you at dinner," Cinder said, getting up from her seat. She was almost out of the door when she looked over her shoulder and announced, "I better have an autograph." 

Kai chuckled at the demand and had a delighted feeling for having met the scientist that day.

--

A/N: Wrote this because I have got myself fixated on this power celebrity couple and they had a fun banter on the media and I couldn't help but imagine it for Kai and Cinder. It seems a lil unrelaistic but it's mostly the modern day alteration of the royalty and media. Hope you like it! <333

tagging: @gingerale2017 @salt-warrior @slmkaider @cinderswrench @cindersassasin @impossiblesuitcase @kaiderswell @kaider-is-my-otp @therealkaidertrash21 @fangirlforever0704

#kaider #just2bubbly fics #kaito #cinder linh #lunar chronicles #tlc #fanfiction #fluff #tlc fandom #marissa meyer #selene blackburn #kai #cinder

[cherrykamado]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 — 𝐂𝐇.𝟎𝟑

previous. | next. | masterlist.

☆ pairing: yandere kamado tanjiro x reader.

☆ blurb: It’s your smell — your honey-like smell. Intoxicating from beginning to end, the first time he breathes it in, he can’t help but get addicted. And now, he doesn’t just yearn for your sweet scent — he craves for you.

☆ warnings (general): yandere themes, toxicity, gore, manipulation, smut, delusional thoughts, unhealthy relationships. All characters are aged up.

☆ warnings (as for ch. 03): violence, obsessive thoughts, idolization (story is told from tanjiro's perspective.)

☆ notice: minors / ageless blogs do not react or interact. Age in bio or you’ll be blocked.

☆ comments: one day it came back! thank you for the infinite patience and all the support throughout the years! this chapter was supposed to be released, like, half a year ago, but since i got stuck i never posted it. today, with a fresher mind and another perspective, i decided to cut it half way, and to try out something for later. enjoy!!

Ever since the meeting with Muzan Kibutsuji, Tanjiro knew your relationship with him changed. 

Well, you said it. It came straight from your lips, so it just had to be true.

Tanji...ro!

Oh, to see your eyes gleaming in awe as you stare at the city lights, you look like a child in a candy shop. Maybe the purest look he has ever seen, you have it. 

Even if he, himself, is not comfortable with crowds or the movement of the city, he will be alright as long as he puts on a smile. 

“I’ve never been here before,” you say, mesmerized.

“M-me neither…” He mumbles, taken aback not only by the crowds, but also by the tall buildings and bright lights.

But, most importantly, it’s you that takes him aback. Just being in here with you, it’s you and him, in an unknown place.

I-Is this a date…? I’ve never been in one before!  he thinks, blushing at your mesmerized - and mesmerizing- form. 

But a date can’t be a date if you don’t-

“H-Hold my hand?” He says, his trembling hand reaches out to you. 

“Why?” You ask him, tilting your head. 

“A-ah… Uhm… I… what if we get lost?” 

He couldn’t bear having you apart from him. 

“It’s okay,” You shake your head, chuckling, “But if that’s what you want, I guess.” 

And it’s then that the two pieces of the puzzle connect, like that first time. Gasping, Tanjiro can’t help but to squeeze your hand a little bit too hard, making you wince.

“S-Sorry!” He apologizes, “L-let’s go, okay?” 

Yes, he is the guide; but he’s doing a poor job, having no idea of where to go. One thing is sure, though: his gaze turns towards the direction of his heart, a glance or two, when he’s sure you’re not looking. God, you’re so perfect. 

“Let’s go here, Y/N!” He says, tugging at your hand as he guides you to an alley. 

The moment you come across a couple shamelessly making out, touching each other in almost plain view, you freeze in place. For some reason, you find yourself staring. 

Tanjiro, on the other hand, can’t help but to feel embarrassed. Apologizing in an annoyingly loud way, he tugs at your hand, dragging you out of the scene. 

You become too tired by the time you reach the udon mini shop. You go sit with Nezuko, while the redhead asks you whether you would like to share his yamakake udon with him. 

Oh, and when you say yes! Please, his heart gets so flustered, voice so quavering that he can’t help but to feel his cheeks burn at the thought of him feeding you from his udon bowl.

But you ask for one yourself. Truth to be told, he’s disappointed; however, still getting to be close to you is enough for now.

He holds the plate, feeling the warm coat his hands, and he tries it out. 

He sighs in bliss, hot breath escaping his lips. Tastes so good, so perfectly done. 

“How is it? Do you like it?”

“Hmmm!” You nod. He notes that pearly smile, sneaking into plain view just for him.

He watches you eat, so pleased and in bliss. He loves seeing you like this: it makes his heart be delighted with a joy he swears he has never felt—

All his thoughts of you are cut off, as if a tree had fallen on the way, disrupting all lovely thoughts of you. That tree? A smell. Such a horribly unique scent that it freezes him to the bone. Makes his heart stop, his breath stops as well. The world stops. Time is stuck.

T-that smell…

W-why now?

Painful memories flash in Tanjiro's mind, the pain is excruciating. It is too much for him to feel. He can’t even utter a sound; he doesn’t even hear the sound of the warm plate, once in his hands, now shattered on the floor. He didn’t even stop to grieve over the spoiled food; all he could do was move forward, to the direction of that smell. 

The encounter with that man, the man that took everything from him. Tanjiro can’t stop swimming through the crowd of people, mind always resorting to that horrible smell, the very same scent that lingered the day the slaughter had taken place. 

He doesn’t hesitate to put his arm on the demon’s shoulder, but those dull, salmon colored eyes looking back at him petrify them to the core, chilling up even his bones. He wants to puke, he feels the anxiety take over his body, clouding his already clouded mind, only that now he can’t think of anything. 

He feels as if he’s going to lose it, as if the thread’s too close to snap. And it’s even worse when he discovers that demon, that horrible creature is carrying a child, a child that innocently asks her dad what is going on. So impune he is, that he dares to reassure his hostage, sending her the sweetest smile ever. 

As if he was human.

Only the most despicable being could do something like this, Tanjiro has no doubt, and he feels the repulsion travel all the way up his esophagus; clutching the fabric over his abdomen with one hand, while his other hand places itself over his mouth, as if to prevent himself from screaming, from puking. 

He doesn’t know. Everything is unreal. 

But it’s the honey scent that brings him back to Earth. Carmine eyes turn to meet your figure, right beside him, who’s looking at Muzan with an apologetic smile on your features. 

“I-I’m v-very sorry, sir—” You utter, Tanjiro not being oblivious to the creaking in your voice, or how you stumble with your words. As if a prisoner of the situation, the only thing he can do is watch you deal with the situation. 

“My… M-my boyfriend over here thought you were s-someone else, hehe…” you chuckled nervously, and then bowed down, “please excuse him—”

Then, a hand reaches for him, the warmth so similar to the one he had the delight to hold not a long time ago. 

“Let’s go, Tanji!”  He catches your smile now being directed to him, “You promised my father to get me home before 10, remember?” 

For your sake, all he does is nod. A nod that will get you out of this situation. Again, he hears your sweet voice apologizing to Muzan and, with a gentle tug at his hand, and you’re away from him. 

You don’t say anything, and he doesn’t question it, still too shocked to utter a word. His gaze is unconsciously glued to your back, yet lost in nothing in particular; everything feels as if he was in a limbo.

He doesn’t even notice when he’s greeted by the darkness of the alleyway you guide him to. Only then, when his back collides against the wall, does Tanjiro come back to reality. 

And it’s then that he takes note of every single of your features, guilt instantly taking over him the moment he realizes the danger you have just avoided. He notices how tears have welled up in the corner of your eyes, how your body is shaking from the horror, lip quivering. 

So, you felt it too? 

“W-what were you even thinking about?” He hears the question stumbling from your tongue. He notices the few droplets of sweat that have formed at the very upper part of your forehead, gently glistening with the scarce moonlight that is bleeding into the alleyway.

“Do you know w-what you have just done?” You ask him, as if trying to bring him to reason. 

Tanjiro’s not oblivious to the anxiety scent  that fills his nostrils. That’s when he notices: You have been so brave when you stood for him. You have come at the right time, saving him from fucking up hard, saving him from what not even him knows what could’ve been.

Realization strikes him, as his mind takes him back to that moment. He felt himself reliving that moment as if for the first time. He remembers your hand taking his, intertwining your fingers shyly with his. 

That would be enough to set his heart ablaze, but then your words echo through his temple, travelling around his mind from side to side. 

“My… M-my boyfriend over here thought you were s-someone else, hehe…” you chuckled nervously, and then bowed down, “please excuse him—”

But it’s in four words that he’s actually focused. 

M-my boyfriend over here…

He breathes in hard, cheeks starting to heat up as his eyes widen.

M-my boyfriend over here

M-my boyfriend over

M-my boyfriend

boyfriend-

Tanji… 

ro 

“Tanjiro!” The angel’s voice that never called him brings him back to life. 

Instinctively, his gaze is drawn to you, and oh, does his heart miss a beat at this. You’re looking at him questioningly, there’s no way that you could know what is going on in his mind. He can’t even get a hold of himself right now, the thought of you… with him… like that… 

No way. His expression drops, the voice of his consciousness dragging him down on Earth. No way she would ever see you like that. You’re imagining things. You just met her!

Yet why did it feel as if he’s known you forever? Why can’t he help but to feel so… attracted to you… so devoted?

 Tanjiro can’t help it. He can’t. 

Why is he so drawn to you? 

The answer strikes him: you are an angel. 

You have saved him. You have saved him from danger. You have saved him from drowning. You must be an angel. 

You must have been sent to him. 

You must be an angel. An angel  in disguise

.

A high pitched scream, and the noise of the crowd, snaps him out. Makes him realize he’s been so close to you. Closest than ever. Yet why does he notices  this the moment you break away? 

You’re then turning to him, gesturing at him to come with you. Your hand on your sword, you’re quick to sprint through the crowd. He’s quick to follow behind you, noticing the scene right ahead of him. 

He’s quick to knock the man down, who was biting on a woman’s trapezium, while you catch the injured woman. Taking his blue scarf from his head, he wraps it around his hand, shoving it in the demon’s mouth. 

A quick glance stolen at you, and he notices you’re fine. “Apply pressure to her wound, please!” He asks you. You didn’t have a scarf or anything. So the first thing that comes to your mind is using your haori. 

No time wasted, he notices how quick you are. Tanjiro’s desperation doesn’t leave his soul for a minute. All of this… because of Muzan. That damned man. 

Why would he do something as horrible as this? Even worse, what if he hurt you?

No, that can’t happen. Tanjiro must be there to protect you. And he will. As long as you’re with him, you will be okay. 

He tries to restrain the demon, but it’s getting out of control. Policemen run to the scene at the sight of the commotioned crowd, who can not understand what is going on right now. 

“What the hell are you both doing?!” One of them roars, with the bludgeon in hand, ready to beat them up. 

As they run closer, Tanjiro’s grip on the demon tightens. 

“W-wait, you don’t understand—” He tries to explain, as ferocious hands clutch and tug from his haori. But he can’t let go, or else people will be hurt. Or else you will be hurt. He can’t bear the thought of that.

“Leave him alone!” He hears the plea of his beloved say. He is shocked, and scared now that the attention is focused on you. 

“Did you two do this?! You will have to come with me!” 

And by the time any of the policemen are going to lay a finger on you, Tanjiro’s blood boils in his veins. Frustration clouds his judgement, as he can’t decide between letting the demon go, or saving you. Either way, people would get hurt, and he didn’t want that. 

What kind of man would he be if he let the demon hurt more people? 

He can’t allow that. 

What kind of person would he be if he let you get hurt? 

He could never forgive himself. 

The frustration, again. So hard, so infuriating, it has him facing a dead end. As he hears your pleas for them to understand, trying to reason with them. But their hands are already on you, tugging at your arms, as they lift you up. They’re going to take you away. 

They’re going to take you away from him.

“Let her go,” his voice cracks in a tiny whisper, eyes fixed on the demon, dull as a void.His expressions contort into a glare, strong, yet brief as a heartbeat, that makes his chest throb once with a pump of rage. 

  or I will kill you.  

He doesn’t notice the veins protruding on his face, eyes red with rage. As if he had turned into a beast. The reaction, much to his luck (unbeknownst to him), was not noticed by the policemen. Flowers engulf the whole area, surround it and it’s confusing. 

What is this smell? Is this an attack? 

Tanjiro’s sight turns to you, his love, who’s just as confused as he is. The urge to rush to your aid takes over his heart, but he remembers there is this demon whom he must restrain, in order to not hurt people; in order to not hurt you.

But you could be in danger.

 What should he do?

CHERRYKAMADO © 2023 — all rights reserved. do not repost or recommend on any platform. plagiarism will not be tolerated. visuals belong to me.

#🍒— works #🍒— sweet like honey #sweet like honey ch. 03 #sweet like honey series #sweet like honey chapter 2 #sweet like honey ch 2 #sweet like honey #yandere tanjiro kamado x y/n #yandere tanjiro x y/n #yandere tanjiro x reader #yandere tanjiro kamado x reader #yandere kamado tanjiro x reader #yandere demon slayer #yandere kny #yandere tanjiro kamado #yandere tanjiro #kamado tanjirou x reader #tanjirou kamado x reader #kamado tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x y/n #kamado tanjiro #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro #yandere tw #obsession tw #delusional thoughts tw #idolization tw