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al1fers-haven · 1 month

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Hear me out, Alastor x Vox's wife

Basically, the reader was married to Vox when alive and hated him but couldn't get a divorce. When she died, she went to heaven, but then fell and was found by Vox, who promptly forced her back into the wife role

But, one night, the reader runs away and meets Alastor, and she instantly bonds with him over a mutual hatred of Vox, which turns into them falling in love

Sorry if the idea is too harsh on Vox, just a scenario I've been thinking about for a while

NO! Don't be sorry love. Its absolutely perfect.

"Oh Deer,"

Alastor x Vox's Wife!Reader

Nothing could have prepared you for the pain you felt when falling. The harsh searing pain that enveloped you as you hit the ground and heard that snap. Tears stained your cheeks as you glared up at the heavens. Too focused on your anger and pain to take in your surroundings and where exactly you were. Demons stared as you stood up, a loud groan leaving your figure as the bright gold blood dripped down your back, the sticky substance sticking to your palms as you tried to wipe it off of you. Vox stopped in his tracks, eyes a bit wide as he saw you drag yourself down the street. Valentino looked back at the TV man before following his gaze with a confused look. "Y/n...?" You stopped in your tracks, looking over towards the TV man and scowling. "Y/n? Is that you? What are you doing down here-" You yelped, trying to move away from him. One of the wings on your back flares up and makes you yell. Breathing harshly as you stared at him.

"Stay the HELL away from me you- you vile demon!" You held your palms against the dragging wing. Sobs wracking your whole form.

"Y/n...It's me. It's your husband...Don't you recognize me?" Your eyes widened, pure hatred filling your brain as you stared at him. "You- You nasty man! You horrible human! You are awful!" Vox stared in shock, your true feelings about him now out in the open. "Y/n...you're hurt." He reached his hand out and Valentino walked up to the two of them. All eyes turned to the pitiful display. "Come home, love."

~!~

"Do you even understand what I'm telling you, woman? Get my coffee. And make it the right way." You flinched, eyes looking toward the ground as your eyebrows furrowed. A small scowl on your face.

"I should've divorced you before you died. You cunt." You let out a yelp as he grabbed the neck of the shirt you were wearing, trying to keep you to 'today's time he shoved you inside of a tight outfit you hated. "Oh? Well, why didn't you." You shoved the TV man off of you. Fixing your shirt. "Because I thought maybe, just maybe. You'd leave me for another woman so I could raise our child ALONE." Vox's TC screen glitched, walking up to you. "Don't you DARE bring her into this!" You poked his chest, puffing your own out to seem bigger. "You don't understand how happy I was to hear you had died in that shitty bar lounge you always sat in! How happy I was for her to get to live without your influence!" You stepped forward, making the man step back. "I raised her all on my own and until she died and I did a wonderful job! Thanks to you dying she didn't have to witness that boring excuse of a thing you called love!" He grabbed your hand and threw you to the ground. Huffing as he stared at you with wide eyes. You obviously hit a soft spot. His eyes softened for a moment. "It's such a shame she died so young." Your eyes burned, Vox's eyes looking down on you. Pitying you for the death of your daughter. "." You stood up, storming out of the room and running out of the building. Vox's head turned to hs associates. "When did you have a kid?" Valentino broke the silence.

You sat on one of the benches in the more secluded part of the city, Your wings tucked into your back as you sat next to the little antique shop. Sobs left your figure as you sat there. Unaware of what to do in a situation like this. It was like you were alive all over again, crying over the loss of normalcy when Vox had died. "Hm?" A red-haired man zipped through the radio behind you. Leaning against the staff in his hand as you stood up and wiped your eyes, "Do my eyes deceive me?" The static startled you, jumping a bit before turning around to see the man. "Oh." You blinked a couple times at the odd figure. Huffing as you ran a hand through your hair. "Alastor, right? Vox's horrible horrible enemy?" You crossed your arms, trying to make it seem like you still had some control in your life. "Yes! And you are his....Assistant?" He waved his hand a little bit, trying not to hit a sensitive spot and deal with more of your weeping.

"Ex-wife." He blinked a couple times, laughing and grabbing your Backpack so he could sit down and leave you a seat. "Oh? Do tell more." His smile was eerily comforting, a sigh left your figure as you sat down. Obviously still upset. "I left, like i should've when we were living." The words spat out like venom. Eyes narrowing in on the ground. "He was an ass sure but at first he at least tried to pretend he cared. Just like he did here. I fell, he pretended to care for me enough to get me to call him my husband again and then boom. It was back to the same abuse i got out of in our 30's." You leaned back. The radio demon's frequencies stopped for a moment so he could listen. Anything he could use against Vox was a wonderful addition, no matter the baggage it brought with it. "He beat you?" Alastor tilted his head, mildly amused with this information. "Sometimes, not hard but enough to hurt. Slapping, name-calling, kicking. Things that wouldn't leave too much of a mark." You turned towards him. His smile was a bit tense. "When I had our child, my baby girl he changed a bit. Tried pretending a bit more while I was pregnant with her. He seemed to care for her. but just not for me." Your eyebrows furrowed as you continued. "She died when she was 2. About a year after Vox died from alcohol poisoning in that stupid bar."

Alastor put a hand on your shoulder. Now listening intently. "I'm glad she didn't have to deal with his constant fucking whining." Alastor laughed at that, his eyes closing a bit as he nodded. "Why yes, I have noticed quite a bit that he has a knack for whining and crying." You laughed a bit, finally calming down. "My name is Y/n, by the way." Alastor nodded, sitting up straight before sighing. "I'm aware...Alastor." He shook your hand, watching you laugh a bit more. "Y'know he wanted to name our kid Murphy?" Alastor blinked a couple times before laughing more, shaking his head no. It must have been hours, the two of you laughing in the street at all of the stupid things Vox had done before and after he died. Alastor filled you in on all of the stuff he knew while you told him about simple things.

The two of you calmed down a little bit, a smile on both of your faces as you stared off. The radio demon stood up suddenly and reached for your hand. "Well! Why don't you come to the hotel with me! I'm sure Charlie would love a new girl there!" You looked up at him, chuckling nervously. "Well...I don't know about that Alastor." "Cmon! Just for a night hm? Then we can see if we can make a deal." You grabbed his hand and yelped, suddenly being inside a random hotel with a blonde girl staring.

"Alastor! You're back....who is this?" She pointed towards you, a nervous smile on your face as Alastor twirled you a bit. Your laughter filled the room as you stopped spinning and suddenly appeared inside of better clothing fitting your time, an older 1920s-1950s dress fitting you perfectly. "This darling is Y/n! She was in quite the pickle and after...awhile-" You jumped in, hands clasped in front of you in a polite way. "2 hours." Alastor shook his head. "And after some time of talking I convinced her to take a shot at redemption, dear charlie." Charlie squealed, grabbing your hands and hugging you tightly. (Nearly till you died again.) "Welcome to the hazbin hotel!! I'm so glad Alastor brought you here!" Angel stared confused, looking as Alastor let you readjust his tie . A couple blinked of surprise leaving his figure as you walked away and towards the group. Immediately recognizing angel. "Angel!" He blinked. Staring at you. "Mrs? What are you doing here?" He waved his hand as you hugged him, a small frown appearing on your lips. "I left, me and vox got into another argument and I blew up on him." Angel laughed, hugging you again and sighing. "I wish I was there to see that asshole's face! Did'ya give him hell?!" You nodded excitedly. Looking around and taking a deep breath. "Oh, it feels good to be free again! Oh, how can I thank you Alastor!" Husker stiffened in his place, everyone expecting him to ask for her soul. "Perhaps you can tell me more about your dear ex-husband, hm? Seems like we didn't finish our little chat earlier dear." "Oh! Of course! You're such an angel puddin'! Oh, this is going to be so fun!"

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #soft alastor #angeldust #charlie morningstar #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #vox is horrible

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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months

Text

How JJK men act when you have insomnia (can't sleep)

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Toge x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader (special thanks to @belovedvamp for that jaw-dropping gorgeous Megumi requests, like wow)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: nightmares, angst to comfort in everyone, I would like to point out that Megumi is my favorite part and that I'm thinking about doing a Part 2, so if you're invested definetely let me know 😭not 100% proofread yet

Gojo Satoru

„Huh, why are you still awake babe? Aren’t you tired?”

Satoru takes in your gorgeous sight, how you lay curled up in your shared bed with your sleepy eyes darted towards him. God, why do you have to be so stunning, why does the selfish urge to keep you awake a little longer become almost unbearable for him when he knows exactly why you’re unable to sleep?

The mattress gives in under your boyfriend’s weight next to you, his hand gently caressing your head. You feel drunk, as if your body doesn’t function properly anymore. No wonder, after all you were awake for more than 30 hours by now, fighting and fighting to finally exorcise a bunch of special grade curses while Satoru was busy somewhere else.

But you’re scared to close your eyes again, to get confronted with the horrible things you’ve saw today. After each and every mission, your brain haunts you with awful nightmares, reminds you of all the death, all the injured, all the things you’ve lost.

No, you just can’t take it. You’d rather stay up a little longer in desperate hopes to be spared than risking to have another bad dream.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it”, you mumble into your heavy blanket, eyes drifting to the window.

It began to rain, heavy droplets pounding against the glass violently, thunder erupting in the dark sky. Carefully, Satoru lays down beside you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

“I know you’re lying”, he mutters against your sensitive neck.

“Is it because of your nightmares?”

You turn around to face him in utter surprise. When did you ever told him about those nightmares? You always kept them to yourself, suffered through them on your own. After all, Satoru is a very busy man who shouldn’t have to worry about something like a bad dream. Yes, it seems pretty ridiculous to whine about your nightmares when the strongest of them all is the one you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m fine”, you lie into his face, gifting him a small smile to convince him.

But your eyes don’t lie. They show nothing but terror and dread, nothing but fatigue and alertness at the same time. Suddenly Satoru’s heart feels heavy. He should have realized it sooner, the way you always go to sleep after him when you were out on a mission. Why did it never cross his mind that all of this might be too much for you? Maybe because you’re so damn strong, maybe because you make it look so damn easy every time, carrying the weight of all those missions so that his students don’t suffer.

“It makes no sense to lie to me. Why didn’t you tell me about it, babe? I’m sure Shoko might be able to help you-“

“There’s nothing anyone could do about this”, you interrupt him immediately.

“Trust me, I tried everything out there. I guess this is just how my brain tries to cope with all those things, the people dying and stuff…”

“But you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re a team, remember? Why don’t you wake me up whenever you feel upset? Why do you go to sleep after I’m already passed out? (y/n), don’t do this to yourself.”

Gently, he cups your cheek with his hand, forcing you to look up at him. Oh, how much you hate that familiar feeling. That feeling of being useless, of being weak. Are you really too frail to even sleep after a mission? Why aren’t you able to handle the things you see like the others, like Kento and Satoru? All that training, all that power just to cry in your sleep over the things that happened hours ago.

Truly pathetic.

“Do you really think you’re alone? Especially in the beginning, Kento was plagued by nightmares each and every night so much that he couldn’t even fall asleep. Suguru and I…it is always rough, remembering the faces of those you weren’t able to save. But don’t let them keep you awake, don’t think you have to simply endure this. I’m here each and every night to hold you, okay? I’m here, you’re not alone (y/n).”

Oh Satoru.

Without thinking twice, you turn around and intertwine your body with his, desperately trying to keep your composure. How do you even deserve a man like him? A man who seems goofy most of the time but hast the softest side, a man who cares more about everyone around him than himself.

Your boyfriend, the strongest with a heart of pure gold.

“I hate when they haunt me in my sleep”, you finally give in, hiding your face against his warm chest.

“I know, babe. Trust me, we all do.”

Ever so gently, he strokes your hair and back, embraces you in his very own warmth. Satoru feels like home, like the perfection you are chasing each and every day. What would you even do without his loving arms as your home? Where would you be without his constant support? All those nights he stood by your side, watched a awful romantic movie so you’d feel good again. The countless times he cooked your favourite meal for you, only to throw it away and order food afterwards. All those times he rushed to your side when you got injured, how he always manages to be right by your side when you wake up. And oh, how tender is touch feels against your skin, how his warmth embraces you with every inch of his body. He feels so good, so comforting…

Satoru watches with a small smile as your lids grow heavy and finally close, your breath leaving your mouth evenly.

“As long as I’m the one holding you, no nightmare in the world will dare to wake you up, babe”, he breathes against your ear, holding you tightly in his arms throughout the whole night.

Inumaki Toge

You stare at the full moon blankly, mind racing. How are you supposed to get out of this alive? Are you even strong enough to lead your very own mission without someone by your side? This will be the first time you’ll be completely on your own. Without Maki, without Panda, without Toge…You trained hard these last months, you know what you’re capable of. But still…

Is it enough?

“Kelp.”

His tender voice rips you out of your poisonous thoughts immediately, glossy eyes shooting up to take in his sight. Why does he have to look so delicate with the moonlight highlighting his features? Why does his mouth have to be so damn captivating?

Why is it so easy to fall hopelessly in love with Toge Inumaki?

“Sorry, I thought y’all were asleep”, you explain visibly uncomfortably.

How embarrassing, getting caught by your crush while silently crying into the night about a damn mission. A silent yawning escapes your lips before you can stop it, tired eyes covered by a curtain of tears. God, you are so tired.

“Salmon roe.”

Before you even comprehend what’s happening, the white-haired boy takes his hand into yours gently, staring at you so intensely that you forget how to breathe for a moment. It’s like he wants to tell you that everything will be alright, that you have nothing to worry about.

“I don’t think I can do this alone, Toge. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this…”, you finally give in.

“Bonito flakes”, he immediately replies.

Without thinking twice, he takes out a small notepad and begins to write frantically. You know he always carries a writing block with him for time that require more than a few words, more than gestures are able to say.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you worked hard these last weeks. And you’re great! Just do as good as you always do, I’m counting on you, (y/n)! Please try to get some sleep now :)”

With every word you read your heart beats a little faster, with every word your grin grows a little wider. If he only knew how much his words truly mean to you…

“So you really think I can do it on my own?”, you question.

“Salmon!”

“Thank you, Toge”, you mutter touched.

You don’t know why, but suddenly your eyes start to burn in tears. Toge holds nothing but affection in his gaze, hand still resting on yours while squeezing it ever so slightly. He truly believes in you and your abilities, shows no doubt in your save return. Maybe…maybe you’re actually able to do this. Maybe you are indeed ready for your first solo mission.

Toge stands up again, signalling you with a gentle squeeze to stand up as well. You follow him through the dark hallways of Jujutsu High, right into the dorm you know so well.

“Tuna”, he whispers into the night before pressing you against his warm chest.

You feel as light as a feather, too stunned to speak by the way his arms feel wrapped around your body. He smells intoxicating, so good that you can’t help but sniff in and out. Is this really the first time Toge Inumaki hugged you for more than 10 seconds? It definitely is hard to let him go again.

“I believe in you, (y/n).”

Did he…Did he just speak?

“Toge…”, you breathe out, watching as his smile grows even wider.

With a last wave, he is gone in the darkness of the night, leaving you standing in the middle of your room on your own with your feelings scattered all over the place. Toge Inumaki just hugged you. No, Toge INumaki just spoke. He told you that he believes in you.

“How am I supposed to sleep now?”, you mumble to yourself.

Fushiguro Megumi

Your eyes snap open in an instant, ice cold sweat running down your face. Where are you? Is it over? You…

You breathe out. It was a nightmare. Again.

“Fuck”, you hiss to yourself while rubbing your aching head.

Why do you have to get haunted by these horrible nightmares, when will it finally stop? Even Gojo-sensei seems to be clueless about your condition, about what keeps you up each and every night.

But you know something that will help you to get through this night. Or rather someone.

Your bare feet stick to the wooden floor ever so slightly while you wander through the dark hallways on your way to his doorstep. Is he even awake? Maybe he won’t open the door at all.

Little do you know that Megumi sits in his bed with his eyes wide open, staring at the door knob in sheer excitement for your return into his arms. He knows it doesn’t mean much to you and at the beginning, it didn’t mean anything to him either. You just came into his room from time to time, searching for comfort in his hug to chase your nightmares away. And since you were friends, Megumi had nothing against stroking your head gently and wrapping his arms around you.

But something seems different now. Something about the sensation of you visiting him late at night sends shivers down his spine, your moonlit features let his heart hammer against his ribcage. It’s like he wants to hold you even closer, wants your breath to brush against his face. Why does it dawn to him how delicate your curves look and how soft your hair feels? There is no use in denying it, no sense in fighting against the obvious.

Megumi Fushiguro has fallen hopelessly in love with you.

The knocks against his wooden floor send him to his door straight away, opening it before you’re able to think twice.

“Oh, I didn’t knew you were still awake, Fushiguro”, you mutter into the darkness.

God, how much he hates the fact that you always call him by his last name. What would he give to hear his name out of your mouth once?

“What do you want here, (y/n)?”

His voice sounds harsher than anticipated while it takes all his strength to not swallow you in his arms immediately.

“I had a bad dream again…”

The vulnerable tone of your voice kills him from the inside. Without saying another word, he steps aside, allows you to enter his dorm without hesitation. You position yourself on the left side of his bed like you always do, hiding yourself in his already warm sheets. Without hesitation, he crawls back into his bed, inviting you into his arms with a long breath.

You smell as good as you always do. Why did it take him so long to realize that you smell absolutely intoxicating, that the mixture of your shampoo, body scent and perfume is addictive? Maybe he should tell you about the way he feels, finally confess how you make his heart beat out of his chest. But how would you react?

Would you…reject him? For all these years of knowing each other, you were never more than friends. Good buddies, pals, but not more than that. None of you ever crossed the line of plain cuddling each other to sleep. Not once did your lips brush over his, not once did your hands move further than his chest. Would you even love him back?

“Come on, you have to have a crush (y/n)! Is it Chris Pine, Tom Holland? Are you more into Korean guys?”, Nobara inquired over and over.

You just rolled your eyes with a playful grin, almost making Megumi fall out of his chair next to Yuji.

“I don’t have a crush on anyone. I’m perfectly fine by myself”, you insisted.

“I like tall woman with a big ass”, Yuji interrupted out of nowhere, gaining a punch in his face by Nobara.

That was it, the first time he noticed something strange. The way his heart suddenly grew heavier than metal, sunk into his chest, took his breath away. He was hurt by your words. Megumi Fushiguro was hurt by the stinging fact that you didn’t say his name like he secretly hoped for, that your eyes didn’t even flinch towards him for the split of a second.

“Hey, are you alright? Why did you tense up like that?”, you mutter against his chest while drawing circles onto his t-shirt with your delicate fingertip.

“Oh, it’s nothing for you to worry about”, he lies into this tender night.

He presses you against his own body a little tighter, watches how your eyes grow heavy with every passing minute that you listen to his steady heartbeat. This shouldn’t mean more to him than comforting an old friend, it shouldn’t make his heart flutter and palms sweaty. But the soft snores leaving your mouth sound oh so lovely, the way your eyes move behind closed lids makes his heart skip a beat. You have to be the most precious creature on this earth, so valuable that he never wants to let you go again.

Until he has in the morning. Until you return back into his arms when nightmares keep you up another night.

Thank you so much for reading! Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul@chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @aeliusbbg

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judeswhore · 2 years

Text

out of your league; steve harrington

summary: steve’s friends refuse to believe his secret girlfriend is the pretty girl from the bakery and are more than a little surprised when you actually show up

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested: yes

warnings: none

notes: you can find my masterlist here.

“you’re so full of shit.”

“are you being serious right now?”

“bullshit, harrington.”

“why would i lie?”

“why would y/n date you?” dustin and steve sat opposite each other at a table in benny's diner, glares almost identical although dustin looked just slightly more bewildered than the older boy. steve had his arms crossed defensively, brow creased in slight annoyance over the fact his friends were refusing to believe who his girlfriend was. they'd been arguing about it for the past fifteen minutes since he'd declared you'd be joining them for lunch, dustin and max insisting that a girl as hot as you was far too cool to even consider dating him. it had been four months since you’d called it official, almost five months since your first date but steve had held off on even telling his friends he knew you, mainly because in all honesty, they were right, you were far too cool to even hang out with him.

"because i'm hot and charming and a total killer with the ladies?" this made robin snort from the seat next to him and he threw her the biggest glare he could muster, squashing his palm down on to the tiny origami swan she'd been making out of a napkin. her response was a quick kick to his ankle beneath the table, her own glare withering.

“you’re unnervingly full of yourself.”

“i’m factual.”

“factual schmactual, there is no way y/n l/n is the secret girl who’s been leaving love notes at the counter.” a snort sounded from across the table, max not even bothering to hide it as she grinned teasingly at steve.

“you’ve been getting love notes?”

“and sending them.” at that she only laughed harder, robin giggling a little behind her hand and steve wanted the ground to swallow him whole. his face was burning, the tops of his cheeks and ears no doubt a startling shade of red and he vowed to himself this was the last time he was treating them to lunch.

“i still refuse to believe it’s y/n,” dustin picked at the corner of the menu he was looking at, head shaking while he took quick glances at steve. “i mean, why were you keeping her a secret? shouldn’t it have been the other way around?”

“dude?”

“i’m serious, max back me up, y/n is way out of his league.” the other girl nodded, tore a napkin in half, placing one part at each end of the table. she pointed to the one closest to the window, just beside robin.

“this is y/n, all pretty and smart, basically owning that bakery she works in because customers can’t get enough of her and, let’s be real, she’s hot and a total charmer.” max shifted and pressed her finger to the other napkin, almost shoving it off the table before sending a pointed look at steve. he knew what was coming but still he raised his brows, crossed his arms over his chest. “this is you. recommending movies to people and badly at that, practically scaring customers away with your awful flirting and spending most of your time with a bunch of kids. compared to her? you’re a loser, harrington.”

“so forgive us if we think she’s just in a whole other ball park to you.” steve huffed, narrowed his eyes at his ridiculous and right now regrettable best friend but in the back of his head he knew they were right.

steve was a total loser compared to you and it was a surprise to even him when you actually wanted to go on a date with him. he’d been hanging around your bakery for weeks at that point, so pathetically into you his friends would not have hesitated to mock him and by the time he finally found the courage to speak to you, you beat him to it. you had asked him out and at first he’d simply stared at you, his mouth a little slower than his brain and your soft laugh and even softer smile was what kicked him into gear. his cheeks had flushed and he’d nodded, almost knocked your tips jar to the floor in an attempt to look cool as he leant against the counter.

“you can pick me up tonight at eight, harrington, i like movies.” you’d sent him a flirty grin, grazed his knuckles as you passed him his doughnut and he’d watched a little star struck as you disappeared through the back door. it was even more of a surprise to him that your date had been a success because he’d been so nervous his palms were damp the entire night and he’d changed his shirt six times before leaving because it didn’t look right. but you liked him, despite as dustin and max were now claiming, being way out of his league, and one date led to another and another until he was certain he wasn’t gonna let you go and now months down the line he was ready to introduce you to his friends. even if they did think he was lying.

"i can't believe you lot think i'm lying about this." steve grumbled, slumped a little in his seat and let his gaze wander to the door. he wished you'd hurry up because this grilling was slowly turning into one of the worst experience of his life, and he'd fought a monster with a diy killer bat.

"we've seen the way you flirt, steve." robin had gone back to folding max's half shredded napkin.

"there's nothing wrong with how i flirt." three pairs of eyes landed on him, three similar expressions of disbelieving faces but it was whatever. you liked his flirting. "y/n has no issues with how i flirt, she's more than satisfied." dustin, his head always somewhere it shouldn't be, grimaced, launched a balled up napkin straight at steve's forehead.

"gross."

"that's not what i meant, dickhead."

"y'know, if you really have been secretly dating her this whole time i'm gonna be so pissed." max folded her arms on top of the table, tapped her fingers a little and steve furrowed his brows, head cocking to one side.

"why exactly?"

"because we could have been getting those cherry and cream pastries for free, moron. you totally haven't been utilising the perks right." this time it was max who got a balled up napkin flicked in her direction, the white ball hitting her square between the eyebrows. "hey!"

"she's my girlfriend, maxine, i'm not pimping her out for pastry because you won't buy your own." dustin made a noise under his breath and shook his head.

"girlfriend, you keep saying girlfriend but where exactly is-?" the diner bell jingled as the door opened and dustin cut off immediately, him and max lifting over the back of the booth to see who was walking in. “bullshit.”

“no fucking way, harrington.” the grin that formed on steve’s face was bright and adoring, his heart thumping a little louder in his chest when he set his eyes on you. he’d seen you only last night but he’d missed you and fleetingly he wondered if he could just turn you right back around and take you to his house. he wasn’t sure he wanted to share you anymore.

when the door clattered shut behind you the gust of wind fluttered your dress and he had a struggle keeping his eyes on your face as you smoothed it back down, your bare legs a constant distraction to him. your head turned, eyes searching the diner and steve lifted his hand in a wave, your face lighting up in that smile he loved so much before you were heading over. he just scooted a little on the bench to give you space and then you were dropping down beside him, all eyes on you but your eyes were on him, soft and glinting, just a little mischievous.

“hey, you.” your voice was a soft whisper, barely understandable to the rest of the group but it tickled a little over his lips. your thigh was smushed into his, your arm just as close and the smell of your perfume made him dizzy, drunk on everything that was you. your lips were plump and glossy, begging for a kiss but it seemed you had similar ideas because you were leaning in before he even had chance to think.

it was a quick kiss, gentle and fleeting but still stomach knottingly nice that he had to hum quietly, his hand reaching to squeeze your thigh. “hey, baby.” in the background steve heard max’s gag and muttered “baby” in a mocking tone but now that you were here he wasn’t all that bothered by their teasing because now they’d been proven wrong. you did like him and he most certainly hadn’t been lying.

there was a patch of flour on your jaw and grinning steve gently rubbed it away, his thumb soft over your skin before he planted a kiss in the very same spot. he knew it was an unnecessary amount of pda and he was aware all three of his friends were ogling you both but he was more than happy to show you off, pda and all. robin’s foot suddenly connected with his beneath the table and he turned a glare on her, his arm falling around your shoulder as you tucked yourself into his side.

“aren’t you going to introduce us, harrington?” he opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it, turning that knee weakening smile on his friends. max and dustin were staring, both looking a little dumbfounded because they’d been one hundred percent convinced steve was just messing with them.

“hi, i’m y/n, steve said it was okay if i had lunch with you? i didn’t wanna intrude or anything but i’m kinda sick of eating collin’s sandwiches.” there was a chorus of hello’s, your smile only growing as you swirled your ring around and around your finger.

“you have collin’s sandwiches for lunch?” robin sounded incredulous, her face twisted into a grimace as she leant against the table to see passed steve’s body. “they’re so dry and gross.”

“right? and i don’t even wanna know what his mystery meat is but it’s definitely not chicken.” you shuffled a little further into steve and he ran his thumb over your arm, his chest feeling light as he watched you with his friends. “i mean, i don’t really eat them all that much anymore, steve usually brings me lunch or we go out but even once a week is too much.”

“steve brings you lunch?” max was grinning, all teasing and light and steve knew he was never going to hear the end of it. he rolled his eyes.

“so what, mayfield? i’ve brought you lunch before.”

“oh man, this is so different, you’re like whipped.” she shook her head, blew out a breath. ��god, wait till i tell lucas.” despite steve’s grumble you laughed, turned and kissed his jaw.

“i take it your friends don’t know how romantic you are?”

“steve? romantic? he thinks the best way to a girls heart is to ignore her.” dustin was smirking, thumbing at the menu again and steve only shook his head, tugged the paper away from him.

“i was young and an idiot.”

“you’re still an idiot.”

“are you going to argue with everything i say today?” the younger boy shrugged but he was smiling, more than happy seeing how happy steve was because as much as they all teased him, he deserved to be happy. and he deserved to be loved. it had been mere minutes since you’d sat down but they’d all seen the shift in him, the way his eyes never seemed to leave your face for long, or the way they lit up whenever your spoke, the soft smile he was wearing and the little glow to his cheeks. steve loved you, whether he was aware of it yet or not and dustin was more than happy about that.

“before we get food can we clear this one thing up?” everyone turned to dustin, his face serious as he eyed you. for a second steve was worried what he might say but as soon as he spoke the older boy was rolling his eyes again, leaning forward to knock the cap down over dustin’s face. “how much is he paying you to be his girlfriend?”

#stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #joe keery #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic

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hanniluvi · 9 months

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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 — TEN THINGS I HATE ; JAY FIC

“ I’ll do better, if you stay with me like this. ”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ where jay keeps a journal where he documents all the reasons he hates you, his rival. despite claiming he will forever hate you, keeping this journal only makes him realize his feelings for you.

PAIRING rival!jay x gn!reader

GENRE angst, fluff — WARNINGS jealousy ; overthinking !

WORD COUNT 1.7K+ (1730)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ soph strikes again!! angst cb, did we cheer?? anyways i was in the feels okay 😢 listening to music while writing really unlocks something in ur brain im telling you…idk what really went thru my mind when making this but enjoy 😊🫶

#1 – HOW YOU’RE GOOD AT EVERYTHING.

Is it normal to have a journal dedicated to someone you hate? Whatever, I just need to get this off my chest. Whenever you’re involved, it’s like I could have nothing I want. It’s stupid, but I don’t care, it just pisses me off when you easily follow instructions, perfect things on your first try, and get all the awards I wish to have. I admit, jealousy consumes me. It's frustrating how effortlessly you seem to achieve anything you want without even trying. Seeing your achievements plastered all over the school only intensifies my anger, making me wish I could tear your posters into shreds. I've never despised second place more than now. Why can't I find contentment with my own scores or position, just like you? How can I remove you from my life and find peace within myself?

#2 – HOW CHEERFUL YOU ARE.

How is it possible for someone to remain so happy throughout the entire day? I can't help but wonder if you possess some magical influence over my friends, as they seem to shower you with compliments non-stop. It's weird to hear nothing but praise for you while I find myself complaining about various things. It's almost as if nobody comprehends why I harbor such animosity towards you, and this frustrates me immensely. Every time I express my emotions, they tell me to laugh and smile more, as if I don't already do it enough. But then, when I contemplate your cheerful and positive demeanor, it becomes clear why they encourage it. You're like the epitome of a model student everyone aspires to be, while I remain the perpetually angry and stubborn person. No wonder everyone wants to spend time with you, and perhaps that's one thing I can agree with others on.

#3 – YOU LIKE THINGS THAT I LIKE.

It's almost like a curse that we share the same interests. It's the reason I keep encountering you everywhere. Whatever I do, you seem to be there, expressing your fondness for the same things with your friends. It's frustrating, and I can't help but roll my eyes at the thought of encountering you even more. Even listening to music has become a challenge, as I know you like the same artists. I purposely skip their songs because they only remind me of you, and I hate being consumed by thoughts of you. I yearn to stop learning more about you so that I can enjoy the things I like in peace, without these constant reminders of you.

#4 – YOU MAKE ME OVERTHINK.

Maybe because of how perfect you seem to be in other’s eyes, I wonder how I look in other people’s eyes too. Am I that awful to hang out with? Am I always seen as this angry person who hates everyone? I’m not that, I know that–my friends do as well. But others? I’m not so sure about that. What confuses me even more is why you persist in wanting to spend time with me despite any perceived flaws or stubbornness on my part. You could easily choose to be with other people who might seem better to converse with. Yet, you continue to stick around, refusing to give up on our “friendship”. And because of this, I can see how others might form a negative opinion about me. My constant push to keep you away could be misunderstood, leading people to believe I'm simply a horrible person.

#5 – YOU LIKE ME.

I'm not sure if you have romantic feelings for me, but I can tell that you consider me a friend. It's interesting because I hadn't thought of you in that way before, but it doesn't seem to bother you. Today, you stood up for me, and it felt really heartening. Normally, I might have felt angry or vulnerable when someone defends me, but this time it was different. I don’t know, it just did feel really nice. Your quick response in telling those people to stop was captivating, even though I didn't express my gratitude at the moment. Lately, I've been struggling with the loud voices in my head, and sometimes I wonder if you could help quiet them too. But now, I'm not sure what I'm trying to convey. You confuse me a lot.

#6 – YOU GIVE THE WRONG PEOPLE SECOND CHANCES.

The other day, I saw you in tears because someone had broken your heart. I must admit, I was taken aback because I had never seen you sad or upset before. It was quite a contrast to the cheerful version of yourself that I'm familiar with. What happened to you that everyone sees all the time? I hope you had someone to tell you your problems too, as it’s not easy for someone who is your rival to be comforting you. I didn’t, so I hope you went home that night filled with less worries because you have someone to talk with.

What surprised me even more was that the very next day, you gave the person who hurt you a second chance. I can't help but wonder why you keep allowing people to hurt you when it's likely they'll repeat the same behavior, ultimately affecting your radiant smile. Stop going back to the people that hurt you once, it’s only going to be a cycle. I wish I could share these thoughts with you, but I hesitate because I doubt you'd take them to heart coming from someone like me. However, I can't help caring despite my own imperfections. It's puzzling to me as well, as you make me feel oddly connected to your feelings.

#7 – SEEING YOUR TEARS.

I never imagined how much I could despise seeing someone cry until the moment I witnessed your tears. Ever since that day, I always thought about it, so how could I let it slip out of my mind this time? I’m sorry for yelling at you today. I’m sorry for saying I hate you. I didn’t mean it, I was just extremely frustrated today, and not at you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know how saying this won’t do anything, but I truly mean it. I wish I could rewind time once I saw water fill up in your eyes, but what’s done is done. You made me realize something crucial—that I've always seen you as a rival, whereas you only wanted to be friends with me. I allowed my competitive nature to ruin our chances of a meaningful connection. I fear now that you might avoid me, and I understand if you do. I worry that I might continue to hurt you, just like the people you often encounter, who don't treat you with the kindness you deserve. You deserve better than that, and I'm sorry for contributing to your pain.

#8 – GIVING ME ANOTHER CHANCE.

I never imagined we'd get another chance after what happened. I tried avoiding you, genuinely attempting to keep my distance. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't resist reaching out to talk to you again. It's almost as if we both sensed the need to address the situation, leading us to have that important conversation. I still don’t know why you gave me another chance. Did I not say hurtful things to you? How easily are you able to put that behind? Your ability to forgive and move past it leaves me in awe.

It's making me reflect on my own flaws, especially how I tend to hold grudges and struggle to let go of negative feelings. I can't quite comprehend how you do it, but you make me think about you more than ever before. Every word I speak now feels like it needs to be carefully considered, thanks to your presence in my thoughts. Your gesture of offering another chance touched me deeply and brought a smile to my face. I can't help but wonder what you've done to influence me in this way. I think you really did something to me.

#9 – FEELINGS, FEELINGS, FEELINGS.

We've connected much faster than I anticipated, even surprising my friends. I'm left wondering what you've done to me. You've become an all-encompassing thought – your smile, your laughter, your sense of humor – everything about you fills my mind. At times, I ponder whether I ever cross your thoughts too. Could this be love? My friends have mentioned it, and I can't find a way to refute them. I'm fond of you, immensely so. Isn't that a crazy twist?

It's a strange journey we're on. I started this journal to document the reasons I disliked you, but look at where it's led us. Is it too soon to be feeling this way? The idea of revealing my feelings is terrifying, yet I'm unsure if I'll ever have another opportunity. Please bear with me, allow me to find the right moment. Perhaps soon, hopefully, you'll be in my arms. I realize how absurd all this sounds – what am I even saying?

#10 – HOW EASY YOU WON ME OVER.

You won. You won my heart effortlessly, but I didn't win yours in return. I'm burdened with regret for how I've treated you. My ignorance and neglect weigh heavily on me now. It's painfully clear that he's all you've ever been able to think about. Why did I delude myself into thinking I could make a difference? If only I had treated you with the kindness you deserved from the start. Could that have made you love me instead? These thoughts haunt me.

I've grown aware of my own attachment, and I'm sorry for allowing it to consume me. I apologize for the disruption I've caused in your recent weeks. I can't bring myself to be genuinely happy for you and him, though he does seem like a better man than I could ever be. It's evident that I need to move on for your sake, to make things easier for you. Yet, there's a part of me that wishes I could still claim you as mine. That longing will always remain unchanged.

I doubt you'll ever stumble upon this journal entry, not that I would ever permit anyone to. But regardless, I want you to know that I do love you. It's a truth that's etched deeply within me, even though it pains me to admit it.

💭 — fun fact this was supposed to have a happy ending until i pulled out spotify n listened to lyn lapid…yeah.

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (🎥) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @woon2u @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

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esmedelacroix · 3 months

Text

4 days til' Christmas

feeling self-conscious about your growing body during your pregnancy⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

pairing: husband!miguel o'hara x pregnant!reader

cw: negative body image

5 days til' christmas ← previous part

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The next morning you woke up feeling queasy again but when your hand reached over for Miguel, he wasn't there. You got up slowly so you wouldn’t start vomiting immediately and tried to open the door but it was locked.

Just then, memories from the night before began to flood your brain. You had gotten upset with Miguel for folding pizza. You unlocked the door and opened it, seeing Miguel lying on the couch with one hand and one leg dangling off the edge because he was too big to fully fit on it.

He was still sound asleep snoring because of the discomfort. you sat down so you could be level with his face and caressed his hair until he woke up. You woke him gently, admiring him in awe as the sun kissed his caramel-collared skin.

You ran your soft hands against his rough, prickly 5 o’clock shadow. "Good morning, mi cielo[my little sky/my heaven]," Miguel said, his eyes still closed with a smile playing on his lips feeling a little ticklish from you touching his face so suddenly.

He suddenly pulled you in for a kiss and it caught you off guard and you squealed. He blew his morning breath into your face afterward because he knew it made you laugh every time you kissed in the mornings. "Are you going to divorce me for that too?" he joked lazily, letting out a small chuckle.

"Oh my god, baby, I'm so sorry I don't know why I keep snapping," you said resting your forehead against his.

"It's fine, I understand the pre-period mood swings but they've never been this bad.

He sat up bringing you to your feet. "How are you feeling this morning?" he said as he brought a hand up to feel your forehead temperature.

"I woke up wanting to vomit but I don't need to anymore," you said as you sat behind him and started to massage his shoulders which were probably aching because of how he was sleeping.

"That's good to hear," he said while letting out a low pleasureful groan.

You planted some kisses onto the back and sides of his neck and the top of his head. "What are we thinking about breakfast?" he asked.

"More sleep," you murmured as you hugged from behind and rested your head against his broad back.

"I don't think I can sleep on this couch any longer so you're going to have to let me back into our room," he quipped as he got up and picked you up bridal style to take you to your room. You giggled telling him to put you down. I'm probably so much heavier now, how can he still carry me? You asked yourself as he put you down on the bed.

He changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and tossed one of his shirts and a pair of your shorts for you to change into. You were still wearing the dress from the day before.

It was normal for Miguel to help you get dressed for bed when you were tipsy, sick, or just too tired and you did the same for him. He helped you untie your dress and he tossed it in your hamper.

His eyes naturally fell on your breasts that were practically spilling out of your bra that fit you just fine a while ago. He couldn't help but let his eyes drift further down, taking notice of the fact that you looked a little different not significantly but like you had gained a bit of weight. It was kind of hot. He didn't know why he thought it was attractive but he just did.

You noticed that he was staring and crossed your arms over your stomach. Miguel chose not to comment on it because it was nothing out of the blue to him. But that decision made your thoughts darker. He helped you put your shirt on and when he helped you get your shorts on he slid them up but they stopped around your hips, right below the curve of your ass.

You sniffled a bit trying not to cry feeling strangely ashamed by your sudden weight gain. He stopped trying to put them on and just slid them down. "You don't need these anyway," he said as he tossed them aside.

He looked up at you and noticed that you were in distress. "What's the matter?" he asked as he sat on the bed with you. At this point, you were sure that he would become tired of you crying all the time but he was patient with you.

"Miguel, you don't have to pretend that you're not noticing," you started.

"Noticing what?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"I'm gaining weight, some of my clothes are barely fitting me," you said as Miguel wiped all your tears.

"I don't see the issue with that, it's completely normal. I'm not trying to invalidate you but, gaining weight is normal and shouldn't be villainized," he explained.

"But, I just feel like, that's the reason why you won't have sex with me. Do I not turn you on anymore? I just feel like you were disgusted by me," you admitted as you began to cry more.

"Amor[love], I'm so sorry I made you feel that way. I haven't been sleeping with you because you've been sick and you'd probably vomit mid-way through it," he said.

You hated to admit that he was probably right and you were still getting used to your sickness and your new diet.

"I'm sorry, seriously, but I also want you to understand that weight gain is not a bad thing at all and I think you are attractive no matter how you physically look. Your body isn't the only appealing thing about you, I'm horny for your brain, your laugh, your humor, your secrets. The fact that I'm doing such an intimate thing with you, out of all the people on this earth, that's what turns me on," Miguel said, taking your hand and placing a kiss on it.

"Thank you hon', I've just been so stressed out about this. It's going to take me a while to accept my weight gain," you said looking down in your lap. Miguel lifted your chin with his index finger so he could look into your eyes.

"It's okay that weight gain is hard to accept for you. But, I want you to know that I'll be right there with you every step of the way," he reassured.

"Thank you, I love you," you said.

"I love you too. Let's sleep yeah?" he said as he pulled you into the bed with him and hit you with some tickles.

You slept in his arms that day. The two of you had a lazy day all day just lounging around and baking Christmas cookies.

The rest of the day went well and it felt great to know that Miguel was so supportive of you and so in love with you. You felt like his everyday presence was a gift in itself. You could wait to tell him you were carrying his child in 3 days.

. . .

next part → 3 days til' Christmas

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taglist: @aripet22@to-the-endoftheline

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ambling-rambling · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

C/W: honestly not much. Angst. Drunk reader. Softest of fluff

I started out intending to write drunk sex but ya sad bish needed something soft instead so have the first time Bucky Barnes hears I love you and the way it wrecks him.

Don't Leave Me

The two of you didn't actually fight that often, surprising as that was to some people. You supposed you couldn't blame them, what with the ex-Winter Soldier's perpetual frown and surly demeanor.

You knew better, though. He held people at arms length for a million different reasons, each as valid as the next, but the truth was, his core was all marshmallow fluff, soft and squishy.

In the six months that you'd been an official couple, you could count on one hand the number of times you'd so much as bickered. But this? This was different. A genuine fight, where you couldn't agree and neither was willing to compromise.

It was bad enough, his being gone on missions all the time, worrying about whether he'd come home at all, and what state he'd be in when he did. And now he was talking about some sabbatical back to Europe, trying to chase down memories and make some amends clear on the other side of the planet, indefinitely.

And it sure sounded like he didn't want you to come. Sure, his excuse had been that he didn't want to drag you away from your life, make you uproot everything. Part of you knew he didn't feel worthy of that kind of devotion, that he couldn't truly comprehend that he was your everything now.

But if still felt an awful lot like a rejection, and that stung.

Maybe that was why you'd gotten so drunk, just trying to ease the tightness in your chest, drown the ache in your soul with the burn of alcohol. It would have been bad enough on its own, but the fact that it was your first legitimate fight just made it that much worse.

So you'd gotten a little carried away, and Jaeger sure as shit did have a way of creeping up on you. You'd stumbled your way into the ladies' where you now sagged against a sink, though you'd forgotten to turn the water on.

"Honey, are you alright?" a voice startled you, and you spun, or tried to. You barely managed to keep yourself upright by clinging to the edge of the sink.

"Uhhhh..." Were you? Alright? What did that even mean? You weren't dying, but you felt like you were shattering into a million pieces. Surely that was just the alcohol talking, making everything extra dramatic. "No? " It came out a question, and the woman tutted softly. She was probably a little older than you, beautiful, and you found yourself half lost in the liquid brown of her eyes, hooded in deep gold eyeshadow, and the dreadlocks that framed her face.

"Can I call someone for you, honey?" she asked.

Call someone? Shit what a great idea! "Uhhh, my boyfriend," you said with a nod. "Er, well," you hedged, as the memories came flooding back in. "I think. We hadda fight." The words were slurred, and your new friend's eyes were sympathetic.

"Are you safe with him?"

Even drunk, you immediately understood the implications of what she was asking. "YES." Your response was so emphatic that she laughed a little. "We never fight like this," you said, pouting now, staring down at the toe of your tennis shoe. "Ever," you added, uncertain why you felt the need to add so much emphasis.

"Well, honey, why don't I call him for you? If he's got any brains in his head, he's probably missin' you just as much as you're missin' him."

You nodded, because Bucky definitely had brains, he was so smart, and beautiful and you just wanted to be with him always. Why did he have to make everything so fucking difficult?

Without really making a conscious decision, you unlocked your phone, open to your text conversation with Bucky. You hadn't even realized you had a slew of texts from him. It ran a course from appeasing,

I'm sorry, I just don't know what to tell you...

to irritated ,

Really? You're blowing me off?

to worried,

Okay well I deserve it. We don't have to talk but can you just answer so I know you're okay?

Y/n. Please. I'm really getting worried. I just wanna know you're alright.

You felt a little bad. You hadn't been blowing him off intentionally, you just hadn't been paying attention to your phone.

Your friend, god you really needed to ask her name, hit the dial button. Muffled through the speaker, you could nonetheless hear Bucky answer before the second ring, practically shouting your name.

"Sorry, my name's Meredith, but I've got y/n right here. She's fine, just pretty drunk. You should probably come pick her up."

There wasn't any hesitation in his promise to be there in a few minutes.

Meredith handed your phone back to you, and you tucked it away in your pocket, feeling a little guilty. You tried to stand up straight, annoyed with the way the world tilted and swayed under your feet.

"Easy there, honey. Let's go get you some water before your fella gets here."

You nod, because that seemed like a good idea. You clung to Meredith's arm as the two of you wound through the bar and the bartender handed you a glass of water. You sipped it carefully, uncertain if even that would settle. You had definitely never been this drunk before, and now that it was setting in you felt a little childish and stupid.

You heard your name and half turned. The sight of Bucky there, beautiful as ever in that leather jacket and his gloves, made you want to weep, and you sniffled.

"I was worried about you, doll," Bucky said gently, brushing one leather-clad thumb along your cheek bone.

You wanted to be mad at him, but the genuine concern in those blue eyes and the way he was hanging back, not pushing you, just made you want to fall into him.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, not looking at him. "I wasn't tryna make y'worry." The words came out slurred and you felt petulant and nauseous and why was everything such a mess?

"You good now?" Meredith asked, drawing your gaze. You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," you said.

"Thank you," Bucky said softly, extending a hand to Meredith. "Genuinely. I'm glad she found you and not..." he trailed off with a helpless shrug, and it wasn't a leap to know he'd been thinking about all the creeps out there who'd love to take advantage of a drunk and vulnerable woman.

"Nothin' to thank me for. Us girls gotta stick together," Meredith said with a grin. She gave your hand a little squeeze, and then disappeared into the crowd.

Bucky sighed, turning to look at you again, ducking his head to try and catch your eye. "C'mon doll, you still so mad you can't even look at me?" he asked, with a little note of frustration creeping into his tone.

You shook your head. "Not that. I just feel...Dumb." Suddenly you were crying and you couldn't even really articulate why. Bucky looked panicked, jerking the glove off his right hand to cradle your face, applying pressure to encourage you to look up without forcing you.

"What? Why? You're not dumb, y/n..." Bucky looked perplexed, worried still as you sniffled again, scrubbing at your leaking eyes.

"You still w-want me right?" The words came out slurred and choked, and you were suddenly clinging to him, clutching at his biceps. The world was unsteady under you and you just wanted to be in bed, wrapped up with him, safe and wanted.

Bucky looked genuinely shocked. "What...y/n, of course I do. You're all I want. Why would you think otherwise?"

He was so confused you almost laughed. It was so obvious to you.

"But you d-don't want me to come to Europe with you," you pointed out, your voice a drunken whine.

"I don't...y/n, I don't want to go without you," you could see he was struggling to articulate himself, the way words so often came as a fight, caught up in his head. "I just don't feel like I can ask you to walk away from your life..."

"You're not asking! I'm offering!" you interrupted, your voice a little too high, a little too loud, even to your own ears.

Bucky looked... Inexplicably sad. He stepped a little closer, so his body was pressed to yours, bare hand cradling your cheek. "I ain't worth it, doll. And I don't want you to be an ocean away from home and not another friend in sight when you figure that out." .

You felt like you were choking. Oh, or maybe that was just the alcohol in your stomach revolting. Bucky must have read the expression on your face, because he wrapped an arm around your waist, mostly carrying you toward the door. "C'mon, let's get outside," he said.

The cold air hit you like an Arctic front, had goosebumps prickling all over your skin and a shiver running up your spine. But it served to still the boiling mess in your stomach. You knew you were drunk, that he'd probably convince himself it was just the alcohol, but you had to try.

"Please baby," you whined, clutching at him. "I don't wanna be here without you. I just wanna be with you , always. You are worth it to me." Your voice cracked when you begged "don't leave me here."

"I'm not leaving you anywhere, doll. Let's go home," he murmured. You nodded, slumping into Bucky's arms, content to let him carry you to the car.

You didn't even remember getting home, just waking up in bed, a little panicked, launching yourself toward the bathroom, your stomach revolting against the ill treatment of the night before. Bucky was there within moments, sweeping your hair back out of your face, palm smoothing down your back.

You slumped to the floor when your stomach finally settled, cool tile heavenly against your heated skin. "I'm sorry," you mumbled.

"For what?" Bucky asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Getting so trashed that you had to come get me. Being so extra and now...this," your lip curled in distaste as you waved a hand at the porcelain throne.

Bucky 's lips quirked in that ghost of a smile that was his most common expression of pleasure or amusement. "That's nothin' to apologize for, doll," he said dismissively.

"Shower with me?" you asked, and Bucky nodded, starting the water before helping you to your feet. You shucked out of your clothes and ducked into the shower with a low groan of relief, only too eager to wash the night off your skin. Bucky followed you in, and his hands skimmed tenderly across your body, helping you rinse off, his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

You lingered like that, for too long, really. It would have been easy, so easy, to just stay like that, pretend nothing had happened, but you couldn't.

"Bucky?" you whispered, voice rough and more than a little hesitant.

"Yeah, doll?" he asked, without lifting his head, voice muffled against your skin.

"I...I meant what I said last night. I know I was drunk, but it was still the truth. I don't... I don't wanna be here without you. I don't care where you're going, if it's anywhere even sort of long term, I wanna go. I'll go anywhere Buck, just .. please don't leave me here. Don't go without me."

He drew back, cradling your face, his expression a study in internal wars, looking both miserable and infatuated. "I just don't want you bored over there, by yourself..."

"I wouldn't be by myself," you interrupted. "I'd be with you and that's all I want."

You could practically see that self deprecating smile even before it painted his lips. "That's not all you want, doll," Bucky argued, and you felt yourself huff out an irritated breath. "You have a job that you really love and friends you love going out with, not to mention the cat..."

You sighed. "All those things will be here whenever you've done what you need to. Or I'll meet new people and make new friends. People do it all the time, Buck. Mallory would take Alpine for a while if I asked her."

Whatever argument he was about to pop off with now, you silenced it, pressing a finger to his lips. "Stop telling me what I want or don't want, Buck. I just want you. I love you."

You watched the emotions play across his face like he was a projection onto a movie screen. Incomprehension, and then disbelief, giving way to awe, and then something so, so soft it had his eyes welling up with tears.

He was searching your face, as if trying to sniff out a lie, and then abruptly, his gaze jerked down, swallowing hard. You'd been together a while, slept together, built routines that were comfortable, that he adored, but neither of you had ever broached the "l" word and he hadn't let himself believe you were building something like a life together, something lasting and permanent.

"Really?" he asked weakly.

His surprise broke you. All this time, it had been clear to you, that this was something permanent, that you were building patterns you wanted to live the rest of your life in, a comfortable place to rest and be at home. Meanwhile, he'd been holding himself apart, waiting for his fantasy to end.

"Oh, Bucky," you whispered, felt yourself choking up against your will. "Yeah, I love you , so much, baby. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner, that I ever made you wonder. I love you, Bucky Barnes, completely and irrevocably."

The arms he wrapped around you were all encompassing, squeezing you tight, with a hint of trembling. "I love you too, doll. So much." His voice was rough with emotion as he clung to you, and you clung right back, arms wrapped tight around his waist, lost in the touch so long that the water started to run cold. You whined as you hurried to wash your hair before it turned to ice and then crawled out.

Wrapped in a towel, you pressed yourself in against Bucky's side. "Does this mean you'll take me to Europe?"

Bucky almost snorted as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Let's be real, I wouldn't have lasted a week without you anyways."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction

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tuiccim · 19 days

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Lost in the Dark (Part 2)

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 673

Warnings: Dark content! Non/DubCon, and other dark elements. This fic contains dark themes and may include potentially triggering topics. You are solely responsible for your media consumption.

Summary: Bucky has been home for a few days, and you don't think you can take anymore.

A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby ! I'm not sure why Dark Bucky keeps rattling around in my brain, but while he's there I may do a few more snippets like this.

Part 1

Four days he'd been back and he hadn't left you alone for more than a few minutes at a time. It was as if he feared that you would disappear if he took his eyes off of you.

He had fucked you every way he could think of. The serum in his veins made his stamina entirely unmatched. You were exhausted and broken down. It had been almost four months since he had kidnapped you. For the last month, you hadn't spoken a word to him. The occasional sound slipped out but you refused to engage him in hopes he would grow frustrated and let you go. Instead, he was infinitely loving and patient.

Night had fallen and you laid on the bed waiting for him. He had fed you well but your entire body hurt, especially between your legs. You were more sore than you'd ever been. When you felt the bed dip, you braced yourself.

“Come here, baby,” Bucky pulled you against him.

You broke, you couldn't help yourself. It was all too much for you.

“Please,” you sobbed, “please, I can't. Not again.”

“What are you talking about, doll?” Bucky asks solicitously.

“It hurts. I'm so sore. Please don't make me do this,” your body began to wrack with sobs as he held you.

“Aw, baby, why didn't you tell me sooner? It's okay. If you're too sore we don't have to. Here, I'm going to draw you a bath so you can relax,” he kisses your head before swinging out of the bed.

You started shaking and you didn't know why. He was always so calm, it was terrifying. That he had been so understanding made it worse rather than better. He should be angry. He should be holding you down and fucking you without a care for your feelings, but not this man. He was kind and patient. He always made sure you came during sex which annoyed you immensely that your body betrayed you each time. He brought you little gifts and made your favorite foods.

You had smashed his first gift and expected him to go into a rage. He had simply picked up the pieces and said not to worry, he'd glue it back together. He was unwavering. His eternal calm was unsettling.

“Here we go, doll,” Bucky appeared and scooped you up. He carried you to the bathroom and gently laid you in the tub. Your favorite candles burned, all of your products were next to the bath and the water was perfectly hot. You let out a relieved sigh when the warm water enveloped your sore muscles.

“I put some Epsom salt in to help with the muscle aches. This is why you have to talk to me, baby. I can't take care of you well if you won't communicate,” he gently admonishes.

You simply nod. He hands you a glass of wine and then takes up the soap and a washcloth.

You should have known it would be too much to ask for a bath alone. He was always too keen on being with you. He rarely left your side when he was home and when he wasn't the security system still allowed him to keep close tabs.

You decided to just give in. You allowed him to wash you while you drank the glass of wine. He massaged as he cleaned and you found yourself relaxing more than you thought possible. By the time the water had cooled and you stepped out, you felt lightheaded. Bucky dried every inch of you down to your toes and then guided you back to the bed.

As you sat, you felt unusually out of it. The glass of wine had apparently gone straight to your head. You felt like you were in a dream. Bucky gently laid you down and your eyes began to flutter but before you lost consciousness, you heard him whisper, “You know I can't sleep until I've had you. But don't worry, doll, you won't feel a thing. Good night.”

Part 3

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

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elizabethwritesmen · 7 months

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I once was poison ivy

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Part 2 but now I’m your daisy

Older!Fireman!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Synopsis - You've spent your entire life taking men who intend to manipulate you and manipulating them instead. It's the only way you know how to survive. Then, one day, you meet Steve Harrington and you realize love and lust are so much more than survival.

A/N - This will be a two-parter. Maybe three if it runs too long.

Warnings: Fluff, sexual themes, smut to come in the second part, talks of using men for their money, vivid description of a car accident, drunk driving.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

I've been breaking hearts a long time and Fooling with them older guys Just playthings for me to use

The napkin on my lap was in pieces.

I'd been tearing it apart, whether out of anxious habit or sheer boredom I wasn't sure.

The man sitting across from me just would not stop talking. He started the second I met up with him in the parking lot and hadn't closed his mouth since. I nodded along and provided just enough commentary to seem present, but my brain was miles away.

He cleared his throat, staring at me pointedly until I met his eyes, a saccharine smile gracing my face.

"Are you alright, doll? I know all this shop talk can be a lot for a pretty girl like you to keep up with," he stated with all the confidence in the world, and I fought a scoff at his condescension.

"Oh, I'm fine!" I grinned wildly, almost childlike, "To be honest, I'm just in awe of you. Absolutely fascinated. I keep asking myself what I did to deserve a date with you!"

The lies cut through my teeth like butter, slick and smooth. I knew they worked when he puffed out his chest and a red tint covered his full cheeks, "Well darling, if you keep talking to me like that, you'll get more than one date with me!"

"There's nothing I'd love more!"

I know I should've cursed him for all he was worth, but that's not how my lifestyle worked. I didn't care how much of a pig a man was, as long as his money was louder than his mouth. And this man's money definitely was.

You see, he was older, a business man. He worked at some high end finance job, and he was most definitely the boss. I met him through my own job. I was a waitress and he frequented my corner booth on his lunch breaks. He knew my schedule and came to eat every single day I worked at 12:00 sharp with a new story about his job, his divorce, or his 1970 Chevelle. On the days I didn't work, he stayed away, claiming I was the only girl there worth looking at. And, every time, he left me a crisp 100 as a tip.

The last time he'd come in, he'd ended his lunch by asking me on a date. He told me he wanted to pick a dress out for me and treat me to the nicest dinner I'd ever had. Poor thing had no idea he wasn't the first millionaire to offer that. I agreed happily, pushing down any reservations and forcing myself to look forward to it.

So there we were, at one of those restaurants where you have to dress formally and use certain etiquette. I hated those places, I knew I didn't belong there, but it was what I had to do and I always did it with a smile on my face.

He continued talking and I began fiddling with the Versace dress adorning me, tugging on the hem. I only heard snippets of what he was saying. After hearing a million men tell the same stories, I thought there was no reason to pay any real attention.

Our waitress startled me out of the trance I'd fallen into, dropping the check off at our table.

"Here," he smiled, placing $200 neatly in the little black book, "That's enough for you to add a cheesecake to-go for my beautiful companion, and to buy something pretty for yourself!"

The girl's eyes widened and she grinned, staring at the generous amount she'd been given. It took her mere moments to bring by a bag with the cheesecake in a box at the bottom, and I was finally done.

"I'll walk you to your car," Mr. Boring offered in a way that I couldn't possibly refuse.

Well, almost done.

Once we reached my Passat, he pressed me lightly against the driver's door and planted a sloppy kiss on my lips. I cringed my way through it until it was finally over, and he opened my door for me.

"Maybe we can go out again next week?" he proposed, "I'll call you and we can set it up."

"Of course!" I nodded, eagerly climbing into the seat.

"Oh, and before I forget," he sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and fishing out two more crisp hundred dollar bills, "This should cover gas and the rest is a thank-you for making an old man feel young again. Seeing you in that dress made my evening."

I smiled at him as he walked away, my expression dropping the second he was out of sight. And then, I was finally headed home.

Something happened for the first time In the darkest little paradise Shaking, pacing, I just need you

It was about a 30 minute drive to my house, and I had the music cranked up the entire way. I was passing through the last intersection before my highway exit when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

It was an SUV, much bigger than my car, headed straight for me. It was going so fast but in that moment time slowed down. It was too late for me to stop or get out of the way, I knew I was screwed. I yanked the wheel to the right, hoping they wouldn't hit me directly. I thought that if they caught the back end of my car it would hurt less.

They slammed into the back driver's side door, just barely missing me, sending me careening across the highway and into the ditch. I screamed as my head slammed into my window, blood running down my temple and onto my neck.

Finally, everything stopped. My car was, beyond all rationality, still playing music. I turned it all the way down, looking around.

The SUV was upside down on the highway, engulfed in flames. I saw a man laying about 20 feet away from it on the asphalt. I prayed he was okay, and that nobody else was in his vehicle.

Then, I examined myself. Glass had shattered everywhere, and there was a pile of it in my lap. My poor Versace was tattered and bloody, and I frowned momentarily in a small fit of grief. The back of my car was completely done for, and I was shocked my airbags didn't go off. Of course, there was no impact to the front of my car.

It only took minutes for sirens to overtake the scene. There were two ambulances, a firetruck, and several police cars.

I slipped my seatbelt off, groaning at the pain. It felt like I'd been hit by a truck. I guess I had, in a manner of speaking. My body was suffering from the turmoil.

Shockingly, my door opened when I pulled the handle and I climbed out, falling to the ground with a cry and a sharp wince.

"Hey, hey, hey!" the voice was deep, and I glanced up to see the fireman it belonged to running in my direction, "Don't move, just stay still. Please, stay still. God, you could've died trying to climb out of that car. Too tough for your own good!" He kneeled beside me, his arms holding me up, his eyes scanning me for all signs of injury. "Here you go, calm down. It's okay now, I've got you."

His voice was soothing me, and so was his thumb as he rubbed calming circles on my hip.

"Please," I cried, my voice almost too small to be audible. I squirmed, trying and failing to break free, "I need... I need..."

I wasn't sure what I was pleading for. I just wanted relief. My bones felt like they were combusting.

"I'm gonna get you some help, sweetheart, I promise. You're safe with me." He called the paramedics over to have a look at me. They ran straight for us and he lifted me up placing me comfortably on the stretcher.

As he began to walk away, I called out meekly, "Please stay with me!" and reached blindly for his hand. He gave it to me and nodded, squeezing my palm lightly as he helped them wheel me to the ambulance. They got me inside of it and starting poking and prodding, asking me questions.

"I don't want to go to the hospital," I whined, "I'm fine, I don't need a hospital."

"We gotta get you to the hospital, sweetheart. I'm sorry, I know it's scary, but you're tough though, huh?," his voice was still so soothing, and I nodded, holding tighter to his hand that was still intertwined with mine.

"Will you come with me?" I stared up at him, my eyes wide and pitiful in a beg.

"I can't, I have to get back and help clean all this up," he told me, his voice regretful.

"Please," I was whimpering at that point, desperate. I hated begging but he was the only thing keeping me from an anxiety attack. The only thing grounding me. The only thing keeping me from asking questions like, what if I'm seriously hurt? What's going to happen with my car? Is my cheesecake okay? How am I going to replace this dress?

Okay, some of the questions were silly but cut me some slack. I'd just been hit by a truck.

He chewed his lip in thought for a moment before sighing, "Let me talk to my boss and see what I can do."

He was gone for about five minutes, but when he came back, he was only in a white T shirt and his turnout pants. He set his jacket and hat on the bench seat next to me and climbed in beside me, grasping my hand again.

"Thank you," I whispered, and the sweet smile he gave me warmed my tummy.

Hours passed in a flurry of medical stuff I didn't understand and tests being run. When everything calmed down, I was sitting on a bed in an ER, a thick medical grade bandaid on my temple where I hit the window and some pain killers in my system. Fortunately, I wasn't hurt badly at all, just extremely sore and shaken up. I had a concussion, but that was the brunt of it.

"Okay, Miss L/N. I've got a prescription here for painkillers, it should help soothe your soreness and your headache. Other than that, you're free to go," the doctor walked in the room and told me jovially. He was nice, he made me feel comfortable. I was thankful to have him instead of someone colder. But what really made me feel comfortable was the firefighter, whose name I'd discovered was Steve. He stayed right beside me the entire time, even when I was first admitted. He even called my mom for me when I was first admitted, and that's the only time he let go of my hand.

"I think that's all, thank you," I sincerely responded.

"Great. Then I'll leave you be. If anything else happens, come back. Concussions are no joke. But I'm sure Steve knows that, so you're in good hands. He'll take care of you," he gave us a pointed look, glancing from mine and Steve's interlaced fingers to our faces.

"Bye, Joe," Steve dramatized, rolling his eyes.

"Bye Steve. Bye Y/N," the doctor responded between laughs, taking his exit.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Steve turned to me, his hard features softening the second his eyes met mine.

"Have you heard anything else from my mom?" I asked, trying to keep the hope in my voice at bay.

"She checked on you once, about an hour ago. I told her I was taking care of you."

"Oh."

His eyes were boring into me, searching. I'm sure it seemed odd to him, a mother not immediately rushing to her child's side when she hears there's been an accident. Wasn't very strange to me, though. My mom had never spared much time for me.

He cleared his throat, speaking more quietly, "She said she wants me to get you home safe, so that's what I'm gonna do. One of the nurses is gonna give us a ride to the station and I'm gonna drive you from there."

"Well it's settled, then. Let's go," I beamed, grabbing his hand and hopping off the bed. I didn't make it very far, though, nearly collapsing the second my feet hit solid ground.

Steve was quick, catching me and holding me steady. I lifted my eyes and they met his, inches away. I could feel his breath, warm against my skin.

"Be careful there, Super Girl. You're too weak to take on the world just yet," he sighed, and I had to fight the urge to lean in.

He was handsome. I'd noticed it the second he ran over to me, my knight in dirty turnout gear. I'd noticed it again in the ambulance when he told me he could go to the hospital with me. And I noticed it as his arms squeezed me tighter.

"I can walk," I mumbled.

"I'm sure you can, but you aren't. Come on, I've got you," he stated, as if there was no room for argument or disagreement. One of the arms around me slipped down to the crook of my knees and he lifted, pulling me securely into his hold. I gasped, grasping tightly to his shirt, my nails leaving imprints in the soft fabric.

"Steve, I'm heavy!" I screeched, and he chuckled.

"Even if you were heavy, I can handle it," he said, like it was obvious. My stare stayed skeptical and he sighed, "Sweetheart, you're not heavy. You're nothing compared to the gear I wear and haul, and the people I have to carry out of buildings."

I stayed stubborn for a moment longer before giving him a slight nod, "If your back starts to break, put me down!"

"I don't have any plans to put you down, sweetheart," he winked, and with that, he was carrying me to the ambulance bay where an Altima was waiting for us. One of the nurses was leaning against it. She was pretty, like a young Angelina Jolie. Her scrubs hugged every curve and jealousy pinged in my gut at how perfect she was. It turned to discomfort, though, when I saw the way she was looking at us.

There was a scowl plastered onto her face, full of judgment. Her eyes were stuck on Steve's arms around me, and if looks could kill, she'd have me dead in a second.

"Can you open the door for me, Bridget?" he asked, frustration laced in his voice from the way she was staring at us instead of helping.

"Of course, Stevie," she cooed, doing as she asked. He helped me in the back seat, going as far as to buckle the belt around me. My breath hitched as he did so, the proximity turning my cheeks bright red.

Bridget's face dropped as he slid in beside me and shut the door behind himself. She opened it right back, "What are you doing, Steve? Your spot is up front!"

"I'd rather sit back here with Y/N and make sure she's okay. Come on, we should get going. I'm sure she's ready to shower and rest."

She huffed, her anger embarrassingly evident, but she gave a slight nod and slammed the door, climbing into the driver's side and speeding off. My head was pounding, so I leaned on Steve's shoulder the whole time. Every now and then he'd shield me from the sun with his hands or run his fingers through my hair, keeping me as comfortable as he could.

Once we got to the fire station, he helped me out and we waved goodbye to Bridget. She gave me one more dirty look before leaving, and I hoped I would never see her again.

"There you are, Steve!" a voice joined into the mix, and I turned around to see a man about Steve's height with long curly hair approaching. He had a bag in his hand.

"Hey, Eddie," Steve greeted, "Thank you for covering my shift all night."

"All night and all morning. I'm assuming you won't be back after you take her home."

Steve looked bashful. It was cute, his cheeks turning red and his eyes averting downward.

"I promise I'll make it up to you, man. I just couldn't leave her, she needed me," he rushed out an explanation and I couldn't stifle my giggle.

"Yeah, sure she did. Come on, dude, I'm not mad. I needed the hours anyway and I'm not like you, I don't have a ton of beautiful women begging me to escort them to the hospital. My Friday night was all free."

"I don't have a ton of them either," Steve cried out defensively, "Just the one."

"Well then get her home before she decides she doesn't neeeeeeed you anymore," the other man, Eddie, winked then and turned to me, "Oh, by the way, I'm Eddie. Steve's best friend, confidant, life saver, shift coverer. I'm the reason he could be with you all night."

His tone was joking, so I played along, "Oh, well thank you so very much. I would've just died without him. As a matter of fact if he leaves my sight I'm sure I'll faint."

"Marry her," Eddie deadpanned, turning to Steve with the most ridiculously serious look on his face. The only response he got was an eyeroll. "Okay, whatever, get out of here. Here's the rest of your stuff, and what we managed to get out of Y/N's car. You can make the shift change up to me later." He handed Steve the bag and glanced my way, "And Y/N, I'm sure I'll be seeing you again. Until then, I'm glad you're okay."

Steve pulled his keys out of the bag, clicking them. A truck beeped across the parking lot and he wrapped his arm around me, helping me over to it.

The last we heard of Eddie was a scream over the parking lot, "Oh and Steve, put some clothes on that poor girl!"

He glanced down at my ripped up dress and blushed.

"Here," he handed me his turnout jacket, "Put this on."

I did as he asked and slipped back into his arms, allowing him to lift me into the passenger seat. I liked the way the material felt on me, warm and loose. It smelled of smoke but it also smelled of cinnamon and something muskier, all Steve.

As he pulled away, I decided to make small talk. It was a ten minute drive back to my house and I didn't want it to be awkward. Not that a single moment we'd already spent together had been. Steve had a way of making me feel like I was finally safe at home.

"Bridget and Eddie seemed nice," I commented. Obviously, I didn't mean the first part but I had a sinking feeling that Steve and Bridget were something of an item and I didn't want to upset him.

"Eddie is a great guy. We've known each other forever, and he's always had my back." He paused for a moment, "And Bridget was awful to you today. You don't have to pretend she wasn't."

"I just thought you and her were probably friends, or maybe even a thing, and I didn't want to say anything mean about her just in case," I smiled softly, apologetically.

"We're not. But she wants to be. She's a uniform chaser. She doesn't know the first thing about me other than my job."

"Do you get that a lot? Girls that are only interested in you because of what you do?"

"More often than you'd think. But it's okay. I guess it's better than not being wanted at all."

"You think if you were something else, something more boring, girls wouldn't want you?" My brows were furrowed in confusion. How could a man so wonderful have such a gaping insecurity?

"I didn't feel that way at first, but I guess I've become cynical over time."

"Well, I'm cynical with the best of them and I'm telling you that you're wrong," I started, "Don't get me wrong. The turnout gear is ruggedly sexy. Straight out of a calendar, really. But I wouldn't have wanted you to come to the hospital with me if you were any other fireman. I wanted you there because of how you made me feel. Safe, and taken care of."

Silence filled the air. I don't think he knew how to respond.

"What about you?" he finally asked, "That was a nice dress before it was ruined. You must've been on quite a date."

"I wouldn't call it that," I stared at my lap, color rising in my cheeks.

"Didn't go well?"

"It's not that, it's just... I wasn't really interested in him."

"What was wrong with him?"

"You ask a lot of questions," I breathed out a laugh, wanting a subject change. I felt shame, like if Steve found out the kind of men I date and why, he would drop me off and forget about me. I didn't want that. I craved more of him. More of his time, and his headspace. I hadn't known him long, but it's hard not to swoon over a man who spends hours of his time taking care of you.

"I'll stop. For now."

Shortly after he said that, we pulled into my driveway. He helped me out of his truck and into my house, commenting on how cute he thought everything was.

"Where's your bathroom? I'm gonna get the shower running for you," he turned to me and said.

"Oh," I blushed, "You don't have to do that. Really. I can manage to get around."

"I want to. I told you I would take care of you, and I'm not doing it halfway. Now should I go looking until I find it or are you gonna tell me where it is?"

"My room is down the hall, the bathroom is in there," I smiled shyly.

He didn't waste a second, pulling me back into him and let me lean on him the entire way there. I leaned against the sink as he looked around, taking the room in.

"A bath would probably be better than a shower. You're still weak, I don't want you to slip and hurt yourself."

I didn't respond, I just watched him as he turned the faucet on and felt the water, adjusting until the temperature was perfect.

"Thank you," I finally said as he finished up and stopped the drain.

"Of course. You gonna be able to get from the tub to the bed?" he asked me.

I giggled, nodding, "I think I'll manage."

"Okay... if you have any trouble or need anything, you're welcome to call me."

"How am I gonna do that without your number?"

His face went red, a silly smile crossing his lips, "Of course. You're right. Here."

He slipped his phone out, pulling up the screen to create a new contact and handed it to me. I quickly typed in my name and info and handed it back. He called me once, hanging up as soon as it rang, and nodded once affirmatively.

"There. Now you have mine, too."

"I'll call you, Steve."

"Yes, if you need anything at all."

"Okay."

He seemed reluctant to leave, and I was reluctant to let him, but he finally mumbled a goodbye and let himself out. I grinned into my hand, the butterflies still not settled.

I was not the kind of girl to feel things like I was feeling. I had a process, a way of getting through life, and it didn't involve getting hung up on the first handsome fireman I meet. I willed myself to come back to reality, but it was difficult. His face was stamped into my mind.

My phone pinged and I glanced down, his number filling my screen.

"I left my jacket. Can I stop by later and get it? And bring you dinner? I'd like to check on you anyway."

Any hope of coming back to reality flew out the window. I typed quickly and pressed send before I could talk myself out of it.

"It's a date."

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #fireman!steve #older!steve harrington #fireman!Steve harrington

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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months

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Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!

My Ghost.

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.

Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.

People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'

"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.

People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.

Then he was dead.

Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.

Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.

Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.

He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?

"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."

"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.

He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.

"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"

"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."

I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.

"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.

"The details don't matter-"

"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'

"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.

"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.

When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.

"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.

"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.

"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.

"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"

"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."

He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.

He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.

He's wearing sneakers, today.

At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.

"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."

"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"

A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.

Billy was presumed dead.

There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.

I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?

About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.

"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"

"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'

I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.

He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.

"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.

"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.

I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.

Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.

"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"

"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.

"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," I snap.

"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.

"Just let me have-"

He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.

"Oh," Billy says quietly.

We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.

"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.

I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.

"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."

"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"

Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.

The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?

We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.

"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."

"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.

I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.

Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.

"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.

"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.

"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.

"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'

I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.

"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"

"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.

It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.

Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.

"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.

He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.

"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.

I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.

I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.

"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"

He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."

Great.

The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.

"Jesus," I say when it's over.

"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."

It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.

"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.

"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.

"You can't stay here," I choke out.

"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.

"I can't lose you again," I say.

"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."

My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?

"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."

My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"

"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."

A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.

Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.

But the same Billy.

"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.

"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."

Masterlist

As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x you #jhutch #billy burn #billy burn x you #billy burn x reader #billy burn 2019 #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #billy x reader

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nyoomiin · 27 days

Text

roommates: part six.

your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)

pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader

tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure

prev. masterlist. next.

“Thank you so much,” you tell the Traveller gratefully. “Wait! Before you go — I made the both of you something.”

They're keychains, you show them, both crocheted by yours truly. One, the sword the Traveller wielded, and the other, the crown Paimon donned. You had made them during the spare time you had whilst waiting for the materials to make Kunikuzushi's clothes.

“Aw! You didn't have to,” Paimon squeals. “They're adorable! Thank you!”

You laugh, handing them over to her. “It's really more of a bribe — I hope you'll come and find me at my shop if your clothes ever need mending or anything.”

“Sure thing! We'll definitely come see you if we have the time!” Paimon promises earnestly.

“Well, I won't keep you anymore. Again, thanks for completing my commision, Mr. Traveller and Paimon!”

“Aether is fine,” he says kindly, and goddamned if he didn't have a pretty voice. His name was pretty too. Aether.

Still, you think to yourself, Kunikuzushi’s just might be prettier.

You must have made it in life.

You've finally gotten your roommate to sit the fuck down and eat dinner with you. And it only took a month and three days. Homemade soup was on the menu today, potatoes and carrots and corn and chicken, just how your grandmother used to make for you. Honestly, soup was the only dish you could cook well.

“How is it?” you ask eagerly, making a show of batting your eyelashes at him and grinning. “I'm quite proud of that recipe.”

He hums, sampling a spoonful. “It’s… edible.”

As if it wasn't the best thing he's had in his life. You harrumph. “Whatever you say.”

Later, when you're cleaning up, and when all has been said and done, you'll realise he's finished two whole bowls and not a drop less. But for now, you're only curious about many, many things.

“Are you from Inazuma?” you ask. “You look like an Inazuman. Your name sounds like it too!”

He looks up at you, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. “I am.”

“That's so cool! Why'd you move?”

“Just… something I had to accomplish. Eh, well, it didn't work out — but it's all water under the bridge now,” he says casually, but with the way his eyes darken and the way he glances away, you know you've touched a nerve. You’ve become rather adept at reading his moods in the recent weeks of badgering him daily.

You change the topic quickly. “That's a shame. I'm glad you stayed, though, or else I'd never have befriended you! But can you speak Inazuman?”

“Of course I can,” he scoffs, puffing up haughtily. “Who do you take me for?”

“Jeez, I never said you couldn't.”

“You implied it,” he retorts pettily.

You click your tongue, the words spilling out faster than your brain could process them. “Then what does ‘Kabukimono’ mean?”

He goes silent, and you smirk, victorious. Of course he wouldn't know what it meant — you had come up with it in a dream, after all. That would show his cocky ass. Except… the expression on his face is odd. He stares at you, horrified and disbelieving and everything in between.

Then, it's gone.

He snorts. “What kind of stupid word is that?”

“I thought of it in a dream,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Only you'd be that senseless,” he snipes. At your offended gasp, he softens minutely. “It means oddly dressed, or insane. Take your pick.”

Then he stands, announcing that talking to you made his head hurt and leaving for his room. You sigh. You wonder if he’s always going to storm off if you mention something he didn't like. Still…

Oddly dressed, or insane, huh?

(His heart is loud — roaring in his ears.

Gods, he hadn't desperately wished for a heart only for it to be such a nuisance.

You shouldn't know that name. How did you ever learn that name? From a dream? There had never been any record of a Kabukimono after him — and all traces of him had already been erased. It couldn't be a mere coincidence. Nothing was ever just a coincidence with him.

That shitty god…

What the fuck did she do?)

taglist. (send an ask to be added.)

@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax @mostlymoth

#—stellaronhvnters.#scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin #scaramouche #i feel like the occasional aether fangirling is just self projection but its ok

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 6 months

Text

💖 Crazy for you 💖

After an embarrassing almost kiss under the mistletoe with your boss Eddie you're determined to move on.

You're the nanny to his adorable son and have been crazy about Eddie for months but now you know you needed to move on after the events at his Christmas party.

Except it isn't so easy and Eddies feelings aren't so platonic.

Authors note: This idea has been in my head for days and I just had to write it 💖

Older Eddie Munson x Reader. Reader is in her late 20's. Eddie is 41.

Warnings: Angst, Dad Eddie Munson, fluff. Jealous Eddie.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

💖

Being in love with your boss wasn't exactly the best idea you had ever had.

It's just Eddie Munson was the most amazing man you had ever met and you had fallen for him over the last year you had been working with him.

Cole's mother wasn't in the picture. She and Eddie were a fling that resulted in a pregnancy.

She had left Cole with Eddie and Uncle Wayne when he was born, she wanted nothing to do with Eddie or the baby and so she left.

How anyone could leave these sweet boys you would never know.

When you were first landed the job as Cole's nanny Eddie was a little stand offish, it took him a little while to open up but once he did it was amazing. You got to know him really well and began to fall for him.

He was without a doubt the sexiest man you had ever met and you struggled to hide your feelings a lot of the time.

Coupled by the fact that Cole was the sweetest little boy and Uncle Wayne was an abosloute angel, you settled into the job quickly and being with Eddie and Cole felt like it was always meant to happen.

Tonight there was a party at Eddie's for Christmas and you were enjoying a few drinks, it wasn't often that you drank alcohol but you wanted to enjoy the night.

The only trouble was that the alcohol made you braver than normal. That wouldn't normally be a problem but tonight it was.

When you were left alone with Eddie, belly filling with butterflies as he stood close to you the feelings had for him began to get harder and harder to ignore.

Mistletoe hung from the ceiling and Eddie's eyes twinkled as he looked up at it.

"Ahh shit, it got us princess" he teases and you smile as he kisses your cheek.

It was stupid but you leaned up to kiss him and you knew it was a mistake as soon as his eyes widened and he moved away.

Mortified you stammer out and apology and his eyes pain.

"Shit, we can't. We can't do this" you nod and move away from him kicking yourself internally for thinking that he wanted to kiss you.

"I'm sorry Eddie. I should go" you suddenly feel very very sober and grab your jacket. Eddie gently tugs your arm.

"You don't have to leave. It's fine sweetheart, we can just forget it. It's okay" you shake your head.

"I really should go" you don't want to see the pity in his eyes. Know he doesn't feel that way about you.

Fuck you should have known.

❤️

Sleep comes slowly that night once you're home, everytime you wake up you remember trying to kiss Eddie and anxiety fills you.

You couldn't believe how badly you had messed up. Embarrassment floods through you, practically burning the memories from last night into your brain.

Fuck, why did you try to kiss him? he was so sweet how he let you down so gently and you're kicking yourself that you thought he felt the same, that you almost jeapordized the job you loved.

Nancy brings you aspirin and you down it quickly. She rubs your shoulder and you feel sick to your stomach as you tell her what happened.

"I haven't got drunk like that in ages but I thought I'd let loose for one night and have a few drinks and then Eddie was being all sweet and I fucked up, I tried to kiss him and I'm so stupid"

Nancy hugs you as tears run down your cheeks. The rejection feels awful too and every part of you aches.

"He let me down really gently but I'm just so mortified" Nancy soothes you.

"Well maybe it's a good thing you know how he feels. Now you can move on. Jonathan says Nick keeps asking about you, why don't you give him a chance you might really like him?"

Maybe that was exactly what you needed, you find yourself nodding and cuddle back into bed.

At least you could use your day off to get rid of this hangover and give some distance between you and Eddie. Hopefully when you went back to work you could forget this ever happened.

❤️

True to Nancy's word she did tell Jonathan to talk to Nick and that's how three days after the party you had a date.

It couldn't have come at a better time because while Eddie hadn't mentioned the kiss but there was a tension in the air between you. It made you feel even worse, you had totally screwed up.

Nick was cute and it was part of your plan to get over Eddie. It was time you stopped daydreaming about him liking you, he didn't and you had to accept that.

He went on dates with beautiful women and he had never once looked at you in any way other than a friend and his employee, you needed to stop deluding yourself.

Since you were finishing your shift before your date it was a little tight for time, however you squeezed in time to change into one of your best dresses and apply a little bit of make up.

Eddie was singing with Cole and it warmed your heart, the urge to just go and spend time with them and forget your date was overwhelming but you know you needed to do this.

With a spritz of perfume you walk out to where Eddie is and he blinks looking stunned, his response makes your heart quicken.

"You going out with friends tonight?" he asks as you grab your jacket.

"Oh um no, I have a date" you don't expect a reaction or anything so it's a suprise when he stiffens as Cole toddles up to you and beams.

"A date?" you nod.

"Yeah. It's been a while. I'm so nervous" you admit and he softens.

"Don't be... You look beautiful sweetheart" he murmurs.

The doorbell rings and you hurry to answer it feeling flustered at Eddie's eyes burning into you as you answered it.

Nick was standing outside and whistles when he sees you.

"Wow, you look good babe" his smile disappears as you feel Eddie right behind you. Chancing a glance at him you notice the way his big brown eyes are flashing and his jaw is tense as he looks Nick up and down.

"You're the date?" Eddie demands and Nick chuckles.

"Quick as a cat huh dude?" he smirks and Eddie's eyes narrow. It was a stupid comment and you're disappointed. It would be nice if Nick could make a good impression with Eddie.

"How did you meet?" Eddie's tone is low and there's a hint of something in it, venom like and you're confused at why he's pissed.

He could just feel protective you reason as Nick launches into the story of how you met through Jonathan and Nick had wanted to date you for ages.

Eddie is still tense as you grab your coat and he takes you to the side as Nick waits for you.

"The bedroom is set up for you for later. I do appreciate you coming back tonight. You know how Cole loves when you stay over. I'm really grateful sweetheart"

Nick sighs loudly and looks at his watch and you cringe as Eddie's eyes narrow.

"Call me if you need to leave early, if he's an asshole, anything happens you call me okay?" you nod and your heart melts when Cole toddles over to you and hugs your legs.

"Bye bye" he murmurs sadly and his puppy brown eyes and little pout nearly make you cancel the date all together.

"Hey sweetie. I'll see you first thing in the morning. We can watch your favourite cartons yeah?" Cole brightens and smiles happily until Nick walks over to you and him.

"Hey little guy" Cole narrows his eyes and turns away from Nick.

"Poo poo head" he points at Nick and you gape and nearly burst out laughing but control your face expression.

"Cole that's not nice" Eddie tells Cole who still doesn't look impressed. Sensing it's time to go you hug Cole one more time and head out with Nick.

Hopefully the actual date went better...

❤️

Yeah, the date was a disaster.

Nick had left you at the resteraunt and had stormed out in a huff when he kissed you. You had tried to like it, you really did but you felt nothing and when Nick tried to go further than a kiss.

His words of anger ring in your ears and the last few days catch up with you and you feel tears roll down your cheeks.

Why did you have to fall for someone so unattainable? Dejected you call a cab to take you back to Eddies.

It suprises you when you head inside that Eddie is waiting up for you. He's sitting on the couch, dressed in slacks and a tight white t shirt, his hair in a bun. He looks so effortlessly gorgeous and your heart aches with want.

"Hi, you didn't need to stay up" he shrugs and stands up as he accesses you.

"You've been crying?" Shit, you forgot how perceptive he was.

"Date didn't go like I hoped" Eddie's eyes flash with anger.

"Did that fucker upset you?" you shake your head and settle on the couch.

"No, I mean we kissed and I felt nothing and Nick wasn't happy about that. I really did try to like him but the spark wasn't there. He ranted at me and stormed off" he takes your hand and squeezes it.

"You should have called me. He sounds like a douchebag to me princess" it makes you smile a little bit.

"I guess I just wanted to meet a nice guy instead of being so into... You freeze and shake your head, cursing yourself for nearly saying how you felt about him.

"Into who?" you swallow and look away from his big brown eyes because you'll give in and tell him everything.

"It doesn't matter. It's stupid" he gently tilts your cheek so you look at him.

"Tell me"

"I want you but I know you don't feel the same and I messed up on Saturday but" You panic as the words spill out and he caresses your cheek which stops you mid sentence.

"You didn't mess up sweetheart. It took me be suprise when you tried to kiss me, I never thought you could feel that way about me, I panicked and I've been kicking myself ever since"

Oh...

Eddie kisses you passionately and you respond to the kiss pulling him closer to you.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away princess. I do want you, I've never felt this way about anyone ever. I don't want you to date that fucking douchebag, that boy has no idea how to treat an angel like you"

He presses a kiss to your forehead and you rest your head and you wrap your arms around him.

"I'm going to take you out tomorrow. Uncle Wayne won't mind babysitting, he's been wanting me to admit how I feel about you for a long time" his confession makes you giddy and you agree beaming.

"I'd love to"

"I'm going to spoil you rotten princess, you're my girl and I want you to be mine, always"

Always, you liked the sound of that.

💖

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #older eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #dad eddie munson #eddie munson angst

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littlelillycatsworld · 2 months

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weight loss breakdown (for once not a mental one impressive ik)

as promised heres my weight loss breakdown. I have awful brain fog words aren't working properly (using any and all brain power on English rn) and it's a bit all over the place please be patient with me I have most definitely forgotten some stuff I'll update when I remember

this is not healthy this is what works for me I know the limits of my body you are your own person please look after yourself and don't compare yourself to me. I'm a professional ballerina and ex-taekwondow artist

please be polite don't leave unsolicited advice if I need or want it I'll ask and right now I DONT.

I'm not suggesting that anyone should attempt to fallow this since this is actually insane

DRINKS

I drink lemon honey water or tea for breakfast most days depending on how much calorie dread I have (does that make sense?)

I will only allow myself to drink water, tea or diet coke/zero or ultra monster throughout the day

MEALS

OMAD when possible budget is 900 I rarely ever make it close to my budget

I'll only intentionally eat dinner unless forced otherwise. I must burn off whatever I can from dinner since I don't have classes that late

some days it's completely unavoidable and I have to eat snacks due to outside pressure like friends and family or my manager (he's apparently hell bent on keeping my ass alive)

binges happen we (I) acknowledge them we (me) move

if I feel faint when In class nothing matters I WILL eat I cannot run the risk of hurting myself or my dance partner when it's him who will be the one who makes sure i dont hit the ground

META DAYS

meta days are important please take them!

I must allow myself 2 grace days a week and I try to be gentle with myself. (essentially I'm gentle parenting myself on these days)

I try not to fall into my normal over the top exercise routine since I still haven't figured out how to make these days my bitch

my cal budget is normally around 1400 for these days

EXERCISE

I must do 10k steps at least (normally much closer to 25k)

I start every day off with a mile run sometimes 2 (depending on how much I want to not exist and weather conditions)

i go to the gym at my dorm when weather conditions are bad or it's to cold for me I run on the treadmill it's not as mentally stimulating as outside but I don't like the rain ice or wind too much

i can be expected to be dancing for 8-9hrs on my longest day so for the most part I don't need to worry too much about forcing myself to burn calories but it gives me peace of mind I burn an estimated 4500cal these days (impossible to know for sure since 2 teachers don't allow activity trackers)

around 3000 on my normal days but again 2 teachers are a pain In my ass

I play just dance religiously at this point it takes me 2hrs to burn 500 I do this after dinner or twice a day on the weekends where possible.

I still practice taekwondo and go to a studio to do classes once a week but it's not as extreme as it used to be (no longer training 6 days a week and doing competitions)

WEIGHING

I weigh myself most days

I don't weigh myself during my meta days I don't need the added mental stress

I get weighed by my school once a week but only update my profile if there is a big difference either up or down (accountability and all that)

FASTS

I normally do 24hr since omad

I don't count my medication, gum, diet coke/zero tea or lemon honey water as breaking my fast. if this keeps me mentally stable then idk it doesn't count (politely eat a brick if you try to tell me otherwise)

I always try to get at least one longer fast a week normally after dinner on wednesday to Friday dinner sometimes I can make it to Saturday dinner it just depends on who's around to make me eat

if your wondering how I've survived this far all I can say is I'm a spiteful little bitch who's going to prove a whole list of people wrong

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binniebakery · 3 months

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Thornless Rose (1/3)

Prince!Yeonjun x Princess!Fem!Reader, strangers (one-sided enemies??) to lovers, Fluff! ♡ Summary: marrying oranada's "evil" prince was not on your bingo card for the year but hey we thug it out (im not good at summaries) ♡ Warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of minor character death (i swear the fic is not angst, pure fluff) more warnings as the fic goes on! ♡ A/N: Okay so this idea popped into my head, and who better fits this than yeonjun!! THIS IS JUST THE INTRO/PART ONE SO PLEASE STICK W ME HERE I PROMISE MY MAN WILL BE IN THE NEXT ONE!! this is my little valentines gift for you all!! I'm going to try to upload a part everyday until valentines! enjoy!! (always looking for feedback so pls lmk if theres anything i need to fix thanks!) ♡ Read:2/3 here! ♡

To say you were enthusiastic in the slightest to meet your so called “betrothed” would be the biggest lie to be told in your kingdom’s history. Then again, when did your opinion ever matter when it came to what you wanted? As a princess, the next in line to be queen to be exact, your kingdom always came first anyway. Your parents always did what was best for you and your citizens. “Y/n, you know your father will be most displeased if you decide to pass this opportunity. You’re his only daughter you know.” Your lady-in-waiting pleaded with a nervous smile as you sat on your bed next to the large luggage beside you, filled with clothing and necessities for your week-long trip. The thoughts of uncertainty that clouded your brain quickly were pushed aside the moment she entered your bedroom. After all, the full day trip that was ahead of you gave you plenty of time to think of what was to come. “I know but why must I be paired with someone I’ve never met. I’m sorry I know you mean well but I don’t want to be constantly reminded of my duty miss Yuri.” Sighing, you stood up and rubbed your temples in an attempt to relax yourself. Since your mother’s passing the amount of stress that has piled up in your life has you wishing you could escape it all. So when your father pulled you to his quarters a month ago for the first time since her passing to tell you that you were leaving for a week to meet your new soon-to-be husband and soon-to-be-king of your kingdom, things seemed to look up as you were a hopeless romantic yourself. Sure, you’ve never met this person, but surely he couldn’t be that awful of a husband right? Wrong. The moment you were sat down and your father mentioned the words “Prince of Oranada” your world once again went spiraling. Of course, you couldn’t have one good thing! “Look, I know there’s rumors and you may have your own assumptions but know that this is for the good of our kingdom.” Your father began as you bit your tongue for the sake of hearing his argument. “Oranada has been closed off for a decade now since the war, they keep their relations private but I’ve only heard positive things-” “Father you can’t be serious! Sure they’re wealthy and I’m sure they have wonderful combat strategies passed down from generations but have you forgotten that the prince- and pardon my language- is possibly the most spoiled and narcissistic person on this damn planet?!” You stood from your seat, hands slamming on your father’s desk. Normally it was out of place for you to lash out at anyone, especially your father but this was just the cherry on top of all that had been happening to you the past year. You have heard more than your fair share of the rumors from Oranada. The king and queen were known for keeping a neutral stance in politics, the same as your kingdom. Oranada was actually a very well-respected kingdom, they had very close connections and often chose peace. That was all fine to you except the fact that when war broke out on that side of the land, a lockdown was immediately issued and the entire kingdom was closed off. When said lockdown was placed, surrounding kingdoms were shocked to see that the entire time the king and queen had a son. Prince Yeonjun was a secret kept from the world. Apparently, the prince was only put under light to the public when the king and queen announced that their son was now a part of their kingdom’s decision-making. Immediately the day after he was found guilty of sentencing a man to the death penalty as his first rule. The news spiraled and thus Prince Yeonjun became the tyrant son of the once respected king and queen of Oranada. Oranada decided to close their borders before an official statement could be made. Since then the kingdom has been closed off, leaving the rest of the world to create buzz around it.

“Y/n! I beg your pardon?! I know very well that you know better than to lash out in such an unruly manner.” He spoke through his teeth, attempting to remain composed yet his voice was loud and stern. “Now sit down and you’re going to allow me to finish otherwise I will send you there without any previous knowledge.” As he was the king you had no choice but to sit down, at least not without an annoyed huff. “Apologies father… please continue.” You stared at the wooden floor beneath you, the red oak wood now the most interesting thing in the world to avoid your father’s intense stare. The king sighed as he continued. “As I was saying, you may have your thoughts on the situation, or on the prince, but I promise you that I won’t just let you marry anyone for any reason. Since your mother’s death.. I realize I am getting old. You’re my only child and I need you to realize that you’re old enough now to marry. I only want the best for this kingdom and I know you do too.” You looked up to see that his eyes had softened, voice now more your father’s than the king of your kingdom. “I’ve thought about this for a while, this is our only choice. I’ve actually been able to get into connection with the king and queen themselves, and they’d be absolutely delighted to have you over and introduce you both. So I will be sending you over in about a month and you will be spending the week with your fiancé.” Your eyes widened, not only had your father pulled strings to get into contact with a kingdom that was nearly impossible to get a hold of for the past ten years but the stage was set. You were now engaged and had no voice in the matter. The following month consisted of constant pleading and back and forth with you and the king. You understood it was your duty to find a proper suitor for not just you but your kingdom. Yet, it was so unlike your father to pull the rug from under you like this. Thus here you were, 10 minutes before your departure and you wanted nothing more than to just vomit rather than go on a day-long journey across the land. “Princess, please, I promise things will go fine! After all, once you return, you may have your mind changed.” Yuri said as she kneeled before you while adjusting the arrangements of your travel dress. You could laugh at her comment, you really could. “And you expect me to ignore the fact that I could be marrying a crazy man, a murderer even?” You sighed as you patted the spot next to you for Yuri to sit. Aside from your mother, Yuri had always taken care of you and now that the queen has passed she was the only motherly figure you had left. She was only a few years older but was mature and kind, she was an older sister to you. Running her fingers through your hair in an attempt to relax you, Yuri searched mentally for a proper response. There was no convincing you really, even she knew chances were slim that things would end well.

Suddenly, a knock on your bedroom door shook you from your thinking. “M’lady, are we ready for departure?” Your father’s assistant could be heard. He had been entrusted to accompany you and Yuri on your journey. “Yes! All prepared, we’ll be down in a second!” Yuri chirped as you both immediately stood to your feet. “Just look on the bright side, be positive and things will go your way, M’lady.” She smiled endearingly as you sighed in defeat. “After all, when have I ever been wrong?” You chuckled as she placed her hands on the wooden doors of your bedroom to open them for you. Was it too late to hide under the covers like you did as a child when it stormed? “Hmm, I could think of a few times.” You poked her side jokingly as she rolled her eyes. With uncertainty and fear, you tilted your chin high, and thus your journey to Oranada began.

#txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fluff #BakeryTreat♡

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polarisjisung · 6 months

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cherry flavoured

07—WORD ON THE STREET

SYNOPSIS | y/n, the campuses notorious heartbreaker, had never been one to settle down, running from the word commitment since the concept had first been introduced to her, but one smile and a little cherry coke seems to do just the trick when she runs into captain of the dance team, park jisung

PAIRING | dancer!jisung x fem!reader

you're on your way to the library to grab a seat while you wait for jisung when you walk past the dance studio, your favourite song blaring from the speakers, a tall figure moving to the beat with a large zip up black hoodie thrown over his body— you haven't seen much of him but you'd recognise him anywhere, jisung repeating the same series of moves over and over again, each time with increased fluidity

he's in a trance, too focused on critiquing himself to notice your presence on the other side of the glass door, which is why he doesn't seem to hear the loud knock you give before entering

his moves seem to falter when he notices your cherry red hair in the mirror and the male finds himself biting at his cheeks to suppress the smile threatening to spread across his lips

"I hope you don't mind me coming here, I tried to knock but I don't think you heard me" you offer him a smile, still not realising just how difficult you'd find it to talk to him in person, beautiful brown eyes staring down at you, without any alcohol in your system

"not at all, I was just finishing up anyways" his voice reverberates through the studio, you swear you can feel it in your bones, but you can tell jisung was still working on his routine

"go ahead and do your thing, I think it'd actually help me get an idea of my drawing style if I saw you dance, if you don't mind that is"

you stop yourself from rambling some sort of artistic jargon his way, looking up at him as you take a few steps closer with those eager eyes again, the ones jisung can't seem to say no to

"it's okay if you're not comfortable, I can go until you're done" you mistake his silence as discomfort but the blue haired dancer is quick to stop you

"no, I'm just not used to it is all"

"don't you preform though" you ask, a genuine tone creeping through your voice and jisung can't help but notice the way you show so much interest in what he has to say

"sorta, when I'm practising it's not really the same, it's part of the process instead of the final product" you nod understandingly, "I've never had anyone see that before"

"I'd love to see it, if you'd let me" you take a seat, watching as he loses himself in the music again, body swaying in ways you didn't even know were possible, his cheeks puffing every time he made a mistake, some you didn't even take notice of and all you could see was sheer passion radiating through his every movement

your hands seen to start to itch, and you can't help yourself from reaching for your sketchbook, soft strokes of your pencil laid onto the paper as your eyes flicker between jisung and the white of the page.

it doesn't take long for a rough sketch to form, small details creeping their way into the paper as you watch him move, concentrated on doing his best

it's when he spins that you can't keep your awe contained, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he twirls so effortlessly, you find yourself flipping the page, taking on a more challenging sketch of what you just saw, eyes glued to the page with the image of his grace clear in your mind

this time it's you who doesn't realise the pair of eyes on you, jisung's movements halted as he watches you rush to swipe different toned pencils across the page, afraid that the mental image would be cleared from your brain before you could get it down

its only when he takes a seat beside you, sipping on an open bottle of water with his messy hair falling over his eyes that you realise he'd stopped dancing

"you're good, like really good" you say, hoping your words don't betray you like they usually did when talking to him, coming out in a completely different order than you'd hope, a problem you'd never known until you ran into jisung

"as in you're crazy good, professional level good" you specify again and jisung let's his head drop, a small smile coming over his features, muttering out a small thank you

his eyes seem to land on the book in your lap next, widening at the precision of the two sketches you'd perfected in a matter of minutes

he wants to say something, anything to let you know just how talented he thinks you are, but he can't find the words to express what he thinks, the now decreased proximity between the two of you causing him to freeze entirely

after that, you only work on a few more sketches, from pre recorded dance practises that jisung had loaded up on his laptop, pointing out signature moves he wanted to incorporate into his project, but each time he did you found yourself lighting up at the passionate glint in his eye

"when did you start dancing"

jisung doesn't expect the question, halfway through one of the dance practise videos, pressing the pause button on his laptop

"1st grade I think" if he's honest jisung doesn't remember a time where he wasn't a dancer, it had been that long, "my teacher suggested it as a way to break out of my shell and it just became my thing"

you nod, it was something anyone with any sort of passion could resonate with, the same way you did with basketball— the start of finding your passions was special, you always thought it was the best way to get to know someone

"what about you, when did you start playing basketball?"

"I think I was about 5, I had this silly little crush on one of my brothers friends, he was on the school basketball team and so I practically begged my parents to let me join a basketball club," you smile fondly at the memory, bringing your knees forwards into your chest as you shuffle to face jisung, "I guess it grew from there"

jisung nods, tired eyes staring blankly your way, making the best attempt to actually process your words, although not too successfully

"I'm starving, lets grab dinner?" you rise to your feet, and jisung follows, the buzzing of the ac fading as you exit the dance studio

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NOTES: ignoring the fact that the message on jisungs twitter is in fact a yn pov 💀 + I wanna post a Halloween chapter but that's not gonna be until a little later into the week so...

TAGLIST (open): @jenobubbles @justalildumpling @jising-jisang-jisung @nanawrlds @222brainrot @chichiuu @dinonuguaegi @ishireads @yyy90210 @hibernatinghamster @stqrrian @makiswrld @everywonuu @marizhua @luumiinaa @asteriaskingdom @jeongintwt @90s-belladonna @000rpheus @jammingjaem @yayloona @neozon3nha

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