#i feel a little better now but it is disheartening | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purple-babygirl · 2 months

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don't call me daddy IV

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 5,540

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: crying, a flu, coughing, shots, age regression

A/N: forgive me for the lateness with this one. i was very sick, like bed-ridden sick, and when i got a little better i got to writing right away. please be kind to me with this one, i'm still high on meds:" please enjoy xx💜💜

“Call me daddy.”

“What?” She was suddenly pulling away as if Bucky was made up of scorching metal.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” He asked with a small smile, wiping any residue tears on his face.

What she wanted… he was only suggesting that she called him daddy because he thought it was what she wanted? Was this his way of returning the favor because she hugged him after a nightmare?

Now she was really hurt.

Bucky was unknowingly emphasizing the fact that he didn’t want this type of relationship, didn’t want her. He was only doing it to show gratitude.

“No.” She shook her head, getting up from the floor.

“No?” Bucky was genuinely confused as he followed her with his eyes.

He thought he was finally making things right, giving her what she wanted.

“I wanna go back.”

“What?!”

“I wanna go back, please take me back.” Her voice wasn’t even sad or frantic, only small and disheartened.

“Back where?! The couch is right there if you wanna go!” Bucky became angry again.

He felt rejected and he felt small. Was it his touch that made her pull back? Was it the daddy thing? Was he so repulsive?

“No, back, out of here.”

“Back where?! It’s the middle of the night!” Bucky raised his voice in frustration, the nightmare nerves barely out of his body.

Has she lost her mind? Why was she acting like this now? What was he supposed to do to please her and her little mind?

“Take me back to Mrs. Morrison,” she insisted calmly as she collected her slippers and stashed them back in her bag.

He looked at her with wide eyes and an open mouth, not getting what happened or where he went wrong.

She wasn’t even tearing up, it was like a switch has flipped inside of her.

“Just— just talk to me, okay? What happened?” Bucky fervently needed her to stop, needed to understand.

“Bucky was right. This isn’t gonna work. Please just take me back.”

Her words reopened Bucky’s wounds that her sweet gestures had once closed. What did she mean “isn’t gonna work”? Was he just deemed irredeemable? Again?

“But why?!”

“I just wanna go back.” Was all she gave him; no explanation and no reasons.

Bucky wouldn’t understand.

“You know what? Fine! I’ll take you back first thing in the morning. Go back to the fucking couch, stay away from me!”

She silently got the wolf stuffie, leaving it on the kitchen counter, and went back, no crying and no trials to correct him on his choice of bad words.

Did she really want to leave? Was she really going to leave him come morning?

When it was lit up enough, Bucky went for a run, trying to blow off some steam because he felt like he was about to explode.

Why did he let her in? He shouldn’t have done that. She didn’t deserve to get this close, no one did.

Did he seriously think he was accepted and understood by this stranger after 7 days of time together?

No matter what the purpose she was serving was, she could never understand how hard Bucky had had it.

Still, something kept pulling him to her. Something inside of him didn’t want her to leave him. Not now that he was used to her; that he wanted to be used to her.

It's been only a week and Bucky was ready to give human relationships another chance. She made him feel like healing wasn’t a faraway dream.

He was going to try and talk to her one last time and if she still wanted to leave, he would gladly let her.

When he opened his door, she was dressed and waiting for Bucky on the couch, ready to go.

“So you were serious about leaving?” Bucky asks as he kicks his shoes off.

“Yes. Bucky is gonna take me back, right?”

“If that’s really what you want?”

She didn’t trust her voice so she just nodded.

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“Talk to me like I’m talking to you!” Bucky snapped.

She remained silent this time, not ready for a fight.

“Why do you wanna leave? What did I do?”

“Bucky didn’t do anything.”

“Then what is it?!”

“That is it.”

“What?!”

“Bucky didn’t do anything. Bucky didn’t even look at Doll’s file. Bucky never even called Doll Doll.” Only now did her tears come back, rolling down her cheeks with ease as she spilled out all that she’s been holding inside of her, “Bucky never wanted Doll.”

“I— I didn’t have time to look at the file. We were in a hurry so I picked the first one in the batch!” Bucky tried to explain, but quickly realized what he'd said.

A sob escaped her at the revelation that she was picked at random, that it could’ve been anyone else and that he really never wanted her.

“That’s not what I meant. I— listen, at first maybe I didn’t want you, but it’s different now!”

“Bucky never even picked me?” She cried, her broken voice crushing his heart.

“I—”

“Please take me back.” She wiped at her face, trying to steady her breathing.

“But—”

“Please, Bucky, please.”

The way she begged him with teary eyes and a shaky voice made Bucky stand up despite himself to put his shoes back on to take her back.

He might’ve not gotten a chance to explain himself, but he’s done her enough damage and he wasn’t going to continue being the reason she cried when she has been the reason he stopped.

“Let’s go.” Bucky pursed his lips and opened the door for her, her bag in hand, knowing it will never be the same when he came back.

“Doll, now that you’re big at least tell me anything, dear. Did he do anything—”

“He didn’t do anything, Mrs. Morrison. I promise you. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman with me.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I just think I wasn’t ready. I shouldn’t have listed my little self as ready.” She shook her head with a polite smile.

Mrs. Morrison wasn’t buying it, but she couldn’t push her anymore.

“Alright, dear. I’ll go finish the report so Bucky’s therapist can get her copy in the morning.”

“Mrs. Morrison, please,” she held the older woman’s hand imploringly, “Bucky didn’t do but good. Make sure you’re just to him in your report.”

“Okay, doll. Whatever you say, dear.” She woman shook her head, giving up the argument before standing up and leaving the room.

It wasn’t the full truth, but she did believe she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t going to be ready for a long time, so it was better if she just went back home and let herself be grounded a little.

“Please, I need to see her.” Bucky begged in front of Mrs. Morrison’s desk.

“Not before you tell me what you did to her, Mr. Barnes!”

“I— I didn’t do anything.”

“That’s what she said too, but I know it’s not the truth!”

“Wait, what? I— please let me see her.”

“She’s not here, Sergeant Barnes.”

“What? Where is she?”

“Home,” the woman replied shortly, still mad at Bucky.

“I thought that was where they lived?”

The woman shook her head in disappointment, “you never read your copy of the file, did you?”

Bucky remained silent, too embarrassed to speak. Why did everyone keep asking about the damn file!

“No, they don’t live here. She went back to her life at her house.”

“Well, can you give me the address?”

“Of course, not! That’s private information and you two don’t even seem to have ended on good terms!”

“Please? I need to fix this.”

“You already had time to do that, Mr. Barnes.”

“Well… At least give me a chance to apologize.”

“I don’t know.” The woman hesitated.

“Please, I’ll do anything.” Bucky begged sincerely.

“Anything?” Mrs. Morrison smiled suddenly, making Bucky worry a little, but he meant his words nonetheless.

“Anything.”

“Corgi, calm down!” Bucky heard her sweet laugh as she approached the dog’s barks.

“You call your corgi Corgi?” He asked her with a smile.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” Her smile quickly disappeared and a surprised frown replaced it.

“I—”

“Okay, I finished moving the new planters to the right side like you wanted— hello?” The man who cut Bucky off was offering him a hand.

Bucky shook it coldly, his signature frown staring the man down, “hey.”

“I’m Adam,” the man said with a friendly smile.

“Sergeant James Barnes.”

“Bucky, this is Adam, my best friend and neighbor, Adam, this is Bucky… a friend.” She introduced them, not sure of what to say about Bucky.

Meanwhile, Bucky felt something weigh down on him. Was it the fact that he wished she said more than just “a friend”? Was it the presence of this Adam guy? Was that… jealousy?!

“Right, so I’m gonna go now, but call me if you need anything, okay?” Adam said, looking at them both suspiciously.

“I will. Thank you for today, Adam. You’re the best.” She gave the man a hug, smiling from ear to ear as she did it, too.

That was a smile Bucky has never seen.

“I know I know. Bye, Corgi! Bye, Sergeant, nice to meet you!” Adam shouted as he walked out of her porch.

Bucky only nodded even though he knew the man couldn’t see him. He didn’t care if he was rude. Who was that anyway?

She was expecting Bucky to talk when Adam was gone but he just stood there, fiddling with the bag in his hand as he stared at her, so she didn’t say anything either.

She was done initiating. If he came all the way here on his own, he could start a conversation on his own.

“Who was that?”

“Really? You came all the way here to ask me that?”

He stuttered and swallowed, knowing fully well that he had no right to such a question.

“You seem different.”

“You mean big?” She smiled sadly, noticing how much more comfortable Bucky was dealing with her like that.

Bucky nodded guiltily, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, I do have a life and responsibilities after all.” She shrugged, gesturing to her house and the puppy by her feet.

She was disappointed to say the least. First, he gave her a terrible week with him, then he returned her and never looked back and now he was on her porch for no clear reason or explanation, questioning her and her life?

Still, she felt a spark of hope in her chest at the fact that he was standing before her. There must’ve been a reason he came and it couldn’t be so he could fight more.

Bucky felt embarrassed, tongue-tied with guilt as he’s forgotten everything he has been wanting to say.

Then the sky started speaking for him, thundering loudly and making her jump with a hand on her heart.

“Oh, it’s gonna rain. Let’s go inside.”

For some reason, he assumed she was talking to the puppy but when she kept looking at him, Bucky gratefully moved his feet.

Her house was the epitome of coziness. It was a true home and it was nothing like Bucky’s.

It had actual furniture, colorful pieces he knew were carefully picked. It had wallpaper and picture frames and kitchenware and cute mugs and plates.

Only now did he know how much shit she could’ve given him for the place he made her stay in, but she didn’t.

“Bucky!”

“Yes?”

“I asked about your favorite tea.” She smiled, motioning to a number of varieties on her shelves.

“A coffee would be fine.”

“I’ll just make you earl grey with me.” She shrugged, ignoring his choice for a coffee at this relatively late hour of the evening.

“Hey!”

“It’s my house, my rules, old man!”

Wow! Big her was kind of feisty and it was making Bucky smile.

“What do you have there?” She asked, looking at the small plastic bag that Bucky’s been carrying in his hand.

“Oh, I— this is for you.” He handed her the bag, cheeks burning as he was still brand new when it came to such gestures.

“Oreos! And wolfie!” She called out happily when she looked inside the bag, “thank you so much!” She squeezed the tips of his fingers, smiling at him like he’d gotten her a rare diamond.

When she let go of his hand to open the package and taste the cookies, Bucky felt fear settle in his chest at the idea of having lost her forever.

He watched her try to hide the hug she was giving the white stuffed wolf before slipping it to her curious dog, “careful, Corgi.”

She didn’t lecture or blame him about his treatment of her, yes, nor did she even bring up the week she stayed at his house, but would she be willing to forgive him? Would she give him another chance?

Instead of screaming at him, she was sitting him down on a comfortable couch that had a soft blanket draped over it and serving him tea and cake. What kind of angel was she?

“If you don’t like it, I’ll make you coffee. But taste it first,” she set the tray with tea cups and a plate with a couple of cake slices on the little wooden coffee table and Bucky knew the smell of this tray was the only thing missing from her living room.

Now it was all perfect. It suited her so well.

“I made lime key cake this morning so you’re in luck. It goes really well with earl grey,” she told him, trying to get him to talk, to tell her why he was at her place a week later at 9 in the evening.

But he only nodded.

She didn’t push him. She has done enough coaxing and enough pushing. She didn’t have to do that anymore. If Bucky wanted to talk, he would have to talk on his own.

But he didn’t.

An hour later, she was getting sleepy and the rain was pouring even harder.

“I— I better go.” He stood up, patting his pockets nervously as if to make sure his belongings were in place.

So he came all the way here for nothing? He found her house and rode on his motorcycle all the way here for nothing?

“No way, you can’t drive your motor cycle in this rain!”

“I’m a super soldier, I don’t get sick,” Bucky argued with a smile, heart swelling at the idea that she still cared for him.

“I don’t care. The roads are slippery. It’s dangerous!”

“But—”

“No buts. You can have my bed, let me show you the room,” she said, never giving him space for a reply as she led the way to her bedroom.

“You really don’t have to. I can take the couch.” Or the floor

“The couch is mine. Corgi cries at night and doesn’t like to sleep alone. He’s still just a puppy.”

“Why don’t you just move his crate to your bedroom?”

“Because there’s a system in this house, Sergeant. We’re disciplined people.” She smiled playfully, “good night.”

And just like that, Bucky was alone in her bedroom, with her bed and sheets and blankets, where all the pillows smelled like her hair shampoo and the air was light and sweet. He was in heaven.

Bucky took his jacket off, draping it over the armchair by her vanity and her perfumes caught his eye.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t help himself as he picked up the first bottle and neared it to his nose.

Oh, lord, was this sexy. He imagined himself eating her up if he was to smell this perfume on her skin. It was captivating and it went well with her playful grown up personality.

He tried another bottle and it was a softer scent that he knew all too well. It was the one she wore when she was staying at his house. It smelt angelic, soft and welcoming.

Bucky had to stop himself from going down the line of perfumes because he didn’t think he could keep going.

He’d better go to bed and try to catch a few hours of sleep before the mind attacks started.

Grabbing a pillow that smelled like her, Bucky made himself as comfortable as could be on the wooden floor next to her bed, draping her overly soft blanket on his body.

“You call it a disciplined house but you don’t even have a dining table,” Bucky teased as he helped her bring the rest of the plates to the coffee table.

He was right actually. She lied last night. She could easily take Corgi to the bedroom with her, but what kind of hospitality would that be to give Bucky the couch when it was his first time visiting?

“At least my coffee table has space for more than 2 noodle cups,” she teased right back, hardly biting a smile.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her sassiness, smiling like an idiot at how easy she made everything.

Talking was easy around her. Existing was easy around her. Breathing was easy around her. And oh did he miss her.

“So…” she trailed, pouring orange juice in Bucky’s glass.

She couldn’t stay silent anymore. She had to understand why Bucky found her house and came to her after he’d clearly proven he didn’t want her. She wanted and tried to be the bigger person, but if he had something to say, she was ready to hear it now.

“I— I came here to say I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said the words that have been sitting on the back of his tongue for so long.

“Bucky…” she locked her eyes with his for a second, unable to read him, “you didn’t have to come all the way here. I didn’t tell Mrs. Morrison anything.”

The way she reassured him broke his heart. It was as if she wholeheartedly believed that all Bucky cared about was the final report.

But he cared about so much more. He cared about fixing this. He cared about her.

“I know. I did.”

“What?!”

“I told her everything.”

“Bucky— why?”

“I had to make it right.”

“Well, what did she say?” She chewed her lower lip nervously, worried everything has been ruined for Bucky.

“She made me serve a few hours at the institution and only when she got everyone’s approval did she agree to give me your address.”

“Everyone’s approval of what?” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Of my storytelling skills,” Bucky replied proudly, putting some cheese on her plate for her when he noticed her freeze.

“Your storytelling— what?!” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, a huge smile breaking on her face.

“I spent a few nights reading bedtime stories to the residents there and I’ll have you know I did a pretty good job, though most of them wanted lullabies so I stole some of yours—”

“Hold on! You, Bucky Barnes, read bedtime stories and sang lullabies to littles at the institution?”

“Yes, I did.” Bucky nodded with a shrug.

“You did all of this so you could have my address?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I missed you, doll.”

“Doll?” Her eyes instantly teared up at the sole use of the name coming from him.

“And to tell you that I got to meet everyone that was available at the same time you were and none of them could ever compare. They’re all amazing people, but none of them made me feel like you’ve made me feel in that short week,” Bucky admitted softly, eyes hesitant to leave his fingers.

“I was terrible to you and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m sorry. I know now that I should’ve been better.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” she said with a content smile, simply satisfied with his presence as she passed him the bread. That apology was genuinely enough for her.

“No, doll, it’s not. I— I did the opposite of everything a caregiver should’ve done. It's just… you made me nervous, scared.” Bucky admitted.

“I scared you?” She scoffed in surprise. She wasn’t expecting this one.

“Yes. The way you were fully yourself, the way you weren’t afraid to show it, the way you did the effort to relieve yourself of whatever you were suffering from, it all scared me. How you openly cried when you needed to. It scared me because I didn’t know how to be like you. I didn’t know how to choose trust and kindness again after everything that had happened to me. Your courage scared me.”

“Oh, Bucky.” Tears rolled down her face as she desperately felt the need to hold him and kiss every inch of him better, “why didn’t you talk to me? I would’ve understood.”

“I tried… that day… but talking about it made me wanna close up on myself even more. It made me more scared. It wasn’t easy. It isn’t easy. And I can’t help it,” Bucky’s voice trembled as he fought his own tears.

He couldn’t believe he said those words out loud to someone else.

She left her seat and went to sit next to Bucky on the couch, her hands finding his and holding onto them for dear life.

“But when I came home to an empty living room after dropping you off at the institution, I knew what I'd lost. I realized what an asshole I’ve been to you. And I missed you. I missed you so much when I closed the door and you weren’t on the couch looking at me,” he poured his heart out to her with tears in his eyes.

She squeezed his hand more, trying to hug his fingers with hers but they were too short to fully cover his hands.

“You don’t have to give me another chance, but I felt like I could’ve died if I didn’t tell you how sorry I was and am. I’m sorry I didn’t give myself time to understand you and appreciate you for everything that you were, doll. I’m sorry I was so stupid and let you slip away from my hands. I’m sorry I was undeserving of your kindness and softness and love,” Bucky told her with tears pouring down his face, matching hers as she finally got to listen to all that he had to say.

“I really am sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to be a good daddy to you and I’m sorry I didn’t try to learn. It’s all my fault because you, doll, deserve someone who would bust their ass trying for you,” Bucky sighed, “but if you’d let me, I’ll spend as much time as you’ll allow me doing that.”

“Thank you for finding me.” She threw herself in his arms and Bucky felt his soul come back to him as he held her tight to his body.

“Thank you for welcoming me back in despite everything I’ve put you through. I know I don’t deserve it.” Bucky squeezed her closer, the smell of her hair calming his senses.

“You’re welcome.” She pulled back to wipe his tears away, giving him a smile prettier than anything he’s ever seen, “now let’s eat before the eggs go cold.” She wiped her eyes quickly before grabbing the spoon and putting some eggs on Bucky’s plate.

“Does that smile mean you forgive me, doll?” Bucky asked hopefully.

“I forgive you, Sarge.” She smiled at him, what was in her heart showing in her eyes.

“You won’t regret it,” he promised, putting some food in his mouth to stop any upcoming tears.

They ate silently in peace for a second before Bucky spoke out.

“Seriously though, who was that Adam guy?!”

“Way to ruin a moment, Bucky,” she teased.

But Bucky didn’t smile. He remained silent waiting for her answer with a tiny frown.

“I told you he’s my best friend and he lives next door.”

Bucky’s frown deepened slightly. So that man got to see her every day huh?

“With his wife,” she added, biting back a smile as she watched his face relax.

“Don’t toy with me like that, doll.”

“I couldn’t help it. This is all new to me and I’m having fun!”

“Does he come here a lot?”

“Yes, Bucky. It’s what friends do, they visit,” she laughed.

“I don’t see Sam that often and we’re fine.” He shrugged unconvincingly, making her laugh more.

“He’s a good man, you’ll come to like him. Plus, he helped me a lot those past weeks and took care of my garden and Corgi while I was away so I owe him.”

“So I’m seeing a farmer now?” Bucky teased.

“Oh look who’s not so quiet anymore!” She teased back with a giggle, “at least my fridge never runs out of tomatoes.”

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky asked, his face serious again.

She nodded in reply, a smile gracing her patient features.

“Why did it bother you so much when I told you to call me daddy?”

She hummed, letting go of her fork.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna answ—”

“It made me feel like you were returning a favor. Doing something because you felt like you had to do it, like it was the right thing to do, but not because you really wanted it. Yes, I wanted to call you daddy with my whole heart, but only if you wanted it too. It hurt because at the time I knew you still hadn’t accepted me for who I was and was just saying that so you could repay me for the hug I was giving you.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bucky shock his head in remorse, “I will never understand how you managed to put up with me for a whole week.”

“It’s because I know what it’s like to feel unwanted, Bucky. I know what it feels like to be unloved and unaccepted, especially by those who should give you unconditional love.”

“Family?” Bucky asked with a sad smile.

She nodded with a similar smile, “I know what it’s like to be more than your pain and anger with others only seeing the snapping and frowning. Little me doesn’t want anyone else to feel unloved like that because she knows how bad it all is. So she gives. She’s patient and she’s kind and sometimes I don’t think I could’ve accessed that part of myself if it wasn’t for her.”

“How so?”

“Grown ups are more cautious because they always have the consequences to things like vulnerability right in front of their eyes. We’re more likely to be afraid to show our hearts because we know we could get hurt bad because of it. Little me isn’t scared of that. She wakes up brand new every day. She wears her heart on her sleeve and trusts her love to do the magic.”

“You’re an amazing person.” Bucky raised her hand to his lips to press a timid kiss without much thought, “I guess I have a lot to learn from you, doll.”

“Don’t say stuff like that!” She whined playfully, cheeks going hot as she turned away shyly, “plus, do you have a death wish?” She raised a playful eyebrow.

“It’s true though— what?”

“I didn’t give you permission to kiss me,” she teased, reminding him of the time she kissed his cheek on her first day at his house.

Bucky smiled sheepishly, whispering out an apology even though he knew she was joking.

Bucky stopped himself when she started coughing abruptly.

She’s been coughing a little here and there since morning, but he didn’t think anything of it.

She shook her head, still coughing as she ran to the bathroom, needing to find any sort of cold medicine. She knew what this was.

Bucky hurried behind her, “what’s wrong?”

In a second, she was bending forward, coughing her heart out.

“Are you okay?!”

She shook her head again, trying to calm down, “I thought it was just a sore throat but it’s getting worse.”

“Let’s get you to the doctor,” Bucky said, worry eating away inside his chest as he watched her cough more.

He quickly grabbed her jacket and keys, leading her out to her car.

“It’s because I let you sleep on the couch, isn’t it? You got cold,” Bucky said, running his fingers through his hair nervously as he paced around the room.

He hasn’t stopped blaming himself since they’d returned from the doctor’s. She caught a bad flu and Bucky quickly believed it was his fault.

“No, Bucky. It’s not that.”

“You don’t have to defend me, doll. It’s because of me. I’ve managed to hurt you again. And I don’t even use beds. I should’ve never let you sleep out here.”

“Hey! Calm down please! It’s not you... It was me.” She released a sigh, biting her lip.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when the rain got even worse after you went to bed. I thought I’d come out and cover the motorcycle so that it wouldn’t get all muddy and you’d have a hard time cleaning it,” she explained, fiddling with her fingers.

“That’s still because of me,” Bucky sighed.

“Come on, it’s not like you made me!” Her hoarse voice tried to reassure.

Bucky only ran his fingers through his messy hair again, not knowing what to say or do to make this one right.

“Bucky, please, I’m sick. All I want is for you to stay beside me and not blame yourself.” Her frown was back to her beautiful face and Bucky didn’t like it, “can you do that for me?”

He didn’t like how sick and scratchy her voice sounded either so he wasn’t about to make talk more with a throat like that.

“I’ve already proven I suck at taking care of you, doll,” Bucky chuckled sadly.

“Do you want forgiveness or not?” She joked.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m right here.”

“Is it dangerous for you though? I don’t want you to get it too.”

“I can’t get sick, remember?” Bucky smiled, rubbing her back lightly, “I’m your nurse now.”

“Is that so?” She giggled.

“Yeah.” He nodded confidently.

“You’re definitely not dressed for it,” she teased, giving him her tongue.

“Oh, are you into that kinda thing, doll?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile she has never seen before on his pink lips.

“Bucky!” She squealed, hiding her face with the covers, making Bucky laugh.

The sound was heaven to her ears and despite being awfully sick, she couldn’t wish for a better outcome for Bucky’s visit.

“Shit, here it comes again,” she gulped before starting another fit of harsh coughing.

“Bad word,” he whispered to her, making her smile tiredly as she continued coughing.

“I don’t wanna go,” she whined as Bucky gently forced her arm inside her jacket.

“We have to. You need your shots to get better.” Bucky covered her head with the hood of her jacket to make sure she was warm before leading her outside.

“But shots hurt,” she whined more with teary eyes.

“I’ll be right there, remember?”

“That’s not gonna do anything!” She whined further.

“Hey!” Bucky pretended to be hurt as he helped her inside the car.

She sighed with a grateful smile, “fine, hugs or I don’t go.”

“Hugs it is.” Bucky smiled back, taking seat next to her before starting the car.

“No, no, no, please. I’m not ready, I don’t want it. Give me pills instead, give me pills,” she cried in Bucky’s chest as she saw the doctor get the shot ready.

“Doll, it’s okay, I promise. I got you,” Bucky said, feeling as helpless as ever.

He wished he could get the shots for her, but it wasn’t possible. He could feel something different about her. She looked like she was slipping into her little headspace and it made Bucky nervous, oh so nervous, that he might mess up and not be able to deal with her again.

She barely calmed down enough for Bucky to help her small hands lower her pants just enough for the doctor to have space to push the needle in.

She moaned in pain as she hid her face in Bucky’s chest, crying for real when she felt the strong medicine inside the needle spread inside her.

“It stings. It stings bad,” she sobbed, hands clutching Bucky’s shirt as he covered her behind again and made sure she was properly covered.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We’re going home now, it’s over,” Bucky cooed, rubbing and patting her back with his big hand.

“It hurts, daddy,” she sniveled in his ear and Bucky froze.

Those innocent teary eyes looking up at him like that made him feel a lot of things. But most importantly, they made him feel like he could do this. He could take care of this sweet girl without messing up this time. Her love would show him how.

“I got you, doll. Daddy’s got you.”

part V

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss

@tinystudentfirepurse

@lavendercitizen

@tumblin-theworldaway

@pretty-pop-princess-hs

@lilymurphy03

@idontwannagomrstarkk

@glxwingrxse

@littlelioncub43

@mathletemadison

@canned-rootbear

@pandaxnienke

@loveisallyouneed1125

@floral-recs

@littlemoonkiller

@hallecarey1

@vespasianphantom

@vicmc624

@winters1917

@ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal

@blkmystery

@millercontracting

@trappedwriter

@am-3-thyst

@obsessedwithquinn

@sydnielauryn

@alittlerayof-pitchblack

@olipiaa

@peterparkersgirl-blog

@buckybarnessweetheart

@thealyrs

@colorfulbluebirdpainter

@stuckysgirl27

@ihavetwoholesforareason

@princess-bee0

@pastel-noah168

@steeph-aniie

@buckitostan

@onthr-dream

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lunarw0rks · 9 months

Note

humbly requesting ghost x reader where he thinks he’s too old and damaged for reader. i headcannon ghost to be anywhere between 35-38 and the reader would be early twenties. he’s all emo and “oh they’re too innocent, i’d hurt and ruin them” and reader is just like “i would die for this man.”

Too Old For You // Part One

Summary: You've been crushing on him for a while now, even going as far as taking a stab for him. But it isn't enough for him to notice you; you're too young, too nice for someone like him.

Warning(s): medic!reader, fem!reader, age gap [reader is early twenties, ghost is mid/late thirties], mild injury/blood, hurt/no comfort

Word Count: 817

A/N: I enjoy hurting my own feelings :)

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX | AO3 VER | PART TWO .ˎˊ˗

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

You did know that, by this point, at least. He had only told you about a hundred times.

“I can do this myself. It’s my job,” you let out a hiss as the Lieutenant purposefully wrapped the gauze tighter than necessary. You weren’t even supposed to be involved — you were supposed to keep hidden until the situation was handled.

He ripped off the end of it, fastening the small clip to keep the wrap in place. “Keep quiet,” he wanted to be irate. But you meant well, and that’s what bothered Simon the most. He, of all people, didn’t deserve to be the one you sacrificed yourself for. You were lucky it was a knife through the hand and not through the heart—where the intruder had been aiming the blade intended for him.

The gash in your palm would be a life-long reminder, doomed to leave a nasty scar.

Nothing says I’m in love with you like taking a stab in the hand for him, but it was abundantly clear he was too headstrong to let you be with him. Or was intentionally dismissing your signals entirely, you weren’t sure which one was more disheartening.

Ghost sets your injured hand back down, letting you admire his sloppy patchwork. It got the job done, it didn’t need to be an aesthetically-pleasing bandage. He used an alcohol wipe to cleanse the bloodstains on your forearm, now an unnecessary service. Perhaps it was his way of apologizing for you being injured on his behalf because he surely wasn’t expressing it through words.

You reached over with your unharmed hand and placed it over his, stopping his meticulous wiping, “I got this.”

The stubborn Lieutenant only flicked his gaze upwards from your hand on his, a brief scoff escaping his lips. Whatever the hell that meant. “Least I can do is get the damn blood off you, kid. Jumped in front of a bloody knife for me.”

Kid. It was like nails on a chalkboard to you.

He continued muttering and shaking his head in disapproval, running the alcohol wipe along your flesh until there was no trace of crimson.

It wasn’t a motive of stupidity, nor was it to prove yourself. You weren’t even a soldier, there would be no use trying to be tough in front of him. Your true motive was admiration for him, and even now, with a stab wound, he’s too mule-headed to let you in. Any longer, and you might just lose your mind entirely.

“Thought you would be relieved, I guess.” You shrugged, speaking with a small bit of defeat. “Knife was supposed to go right there.” A finger pointed at his heart but didn’t dare make contact. You knew better than that,.. Sort of.

Before you could finish outstretching your hand, his unoccupied one clamped over it, breaths a little heavier. Followed by a look that could only be described as intense contemplation; should I break this hand or continue to gently hold it?

“You don’t have the slightest clue what you’re doing, do you?” Simon questions, thumb instinctually caressing your knuckle to balance out the iron grip he maintained. “You’re confused.”

You were too young, too nice in his eyes. It was your job to be a healer, a good one, too. And his job? A trained killer. To him, it was too ironic, too striking of a contrast. An arrangement like that would never work—Simon was too mature, too damaged, downright unworthy of your kindness. At least that’s what he had himself convinced of, even after the knife incident.

You replied hastily, a slight tinge of frustration showing. “I’m not confused, Ghost. I know what I want—I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.” You would’ve done it again if it meant another chance at restarting this conversation. A conversation that now was nose-diving into a point of no return.

“You shouldn’t have done it at all,” he sighed, amber eyes flooded with internal conflict. His grip released with one swift movement, and now his palm rested on either side of you, but it wasn’t intimidation he was after. “I’m not the bloke you want to jump in front of a bullet for, trust me.”

“Simon—” You blurted amidst his attempts at swaying you, cradling your bandaged hand. What more would it take?

“—Ghost.” He interjected, taking several steps back from his looming position. If he didn’t walk away now, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from poisoning you.

It wasn’t right. You deserve someone better than him. “It’s Ghost. We’re not doin’ this, Kid. I’m not doing it.” His words were like a punch to the gut, more painful than a stab to the hand, that’s for sure.

The door to the infirmary slammed shut, only seconds before his footsteps faded into silence, stranding you with the solitude of rejection.

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carolmunson · 2 months

Text

almost fell into that hole in your life.

orange colored sky set list.

older!modern!eddie x thirties!reader summary: ficlet. you haven't been acting like yourself these days and eddie notices. unfortunately for you, eddie can't help but wanna make you feel better. tw: implied depressed reader, alcohol mention. implied praise kink if you squint really hard? still 18+ tho! songspiration: black balloon | the goo goo dolls

Eddie doesn't like it when things are too quiet, it makes him hear the static in his brain -- gets too aware. He can hear his eyes blink, the sound of his breath, so when you've been clammed up on the couch all night on your phone he can't help but start to make noise.

"Babe," he says from the kitchen, "Do you want me to make quesadillas or something? I have some shredded chicken I wanted to use up."

"Hm," you respond. He barely hears it, padding his way over in his 'house slides' that you like to tease him about. Such an old man.

"I was thinking quesadillas and I can make some margs, would you like that?" he asks, standing at the end of the couch. The way you're laying on your side, eyes glazed over, is enough to let him know that you haven't heard a word he's said for the last hour. Just scrolling with with a glassy look, numbing yourself ten times over.

"Peach," he says, albiet little sharply, "Are you listening to me?"

"Hmm, no way, that's wild," you respond, a zombie in his midst -- replying just to reply, to fake like you're hearing him. Eddie bites his tongue and then his cheeks to sting the frustration out.

"Hey," he says again, ringed hand reaching down to squeeze your chenille blanket covered thigh, "You hearin' me?"

You finally look up and see his face and the world around you comes into view. In your trance, the world outside had become night, the TV was off, you weren't even sure how much time had passed since you plopped yourself under Eddie's blanket on the sectional in his livingroom.

"Yeah," you squeak out, heart racing because you can tell he's disappointed, "Y-yeah I'm hearing you."

"Then what did I just say, huh?" he doesn't sound mad, or accusatory. Worse, he sounds disheartened. And even worse of worse, he sounds worried.

"Um...it was about um, you were asking about food," you try to answer confidently, and you know it was food adjacent, but you aren't sure.

"Do you want me to make quesadillas?" he asks again, "I have some chicken I wanna use up and I got all the stuff for 'em."

"Yeah," you nod, "Yeah that sounds nice."

"You wanna come help me?" he asks, "I can make us some drinks while we work."

"Uh," you start, that familiar pull tugging in your chest -- laying down feels good, getting lost back in your phone will feel better. It's so comfortable to hide under his chenille blanket and tune out. It feels better like that.

"Please?" You hesitate again, but you're not fast enough to redirect Eddie's attention, and it's then that he catches it in your eyes. The ache. He comes around the the front of the couch to sit in the divot of your thighs and chest, hand moving from your thigh to your shoulder. "What's goin' on?" his low voice twangs at your chest.

"Nothing," you urge, but your voice is too high and so are your eye brows. He doesn't believe you for a second.

"I don't like when you lie to me, peach," he confesses, "Don't lie to me, please."

"Psh, okay dad," you tease, trying to lighten the mood while you get up.

"I'm not kidding with you," Eddie's timbre keeps you in place, "I'm not playing around, babe. What's goin' on with you? You've been -- y'know -- you've been really I dunno -- inward this week. I'm missin' you."

"I'm okay," you urge again, but now you're too quiet. You don't mean it. He raises his brows and blinks at you in disbelief.

"I promise, I'm okay," you continue, "I'll be okay. It's fine. I'm fine."

"You're not making a great case for yourself." "Well then it's a good thing I'm not a lawyer," you joke again. He doesn't buy it.

"You're sad, baby," he tells you, reaching up to hold your cheek in his palm, "Why can't you just tell me? It's okay that you're sad."

"I'm not!" you try to say cheerily again, but the words get stuck in yout throat -- eyes stinging with wetness after hours of being open.

"I'm not sad," you say breathlessly, choking on the lie while a tear sneaks its way onto your lash line.

"Oh, sugar," he coos while you try to tread the water of your feelings -- flailing to keep your head above the pain in your chest.

"No, no, I'm okay -- I'm fine!" but you're starting to cry now and it kills him. Before you know it, he's made his way under the chenille blanket with you, nose to nose.

"Hey, hey, it's okay if you're not fine," he coaches you through your deep breaths while you try to guide yourself out of a full blown sob, "You can tell me. I'm here. I'm here, okay?"

"I'm sorry," your voice becoming a wraith of itself.

"Don't be sorry," he presses himself against you, enough so that you can feel the pressure of him and the pressure of the back of the couch on both sides, "Just talk to me."

"I don't..." you shrug, "I don't have anything to say."

"Just sad?" he asks, you feel an arm snake around you between your back and the the couch, pressing your chest to his. You nod, it feels pathetic, but you're cornered now and there's no use in arguing with someone who was born to win every argument he's ever had.

"Yeah," you mumble weakly, "Yeah, I'm sad. Think I'm more than sad."

He nods, his demeanor softening to something gentle -- heart reaching out to yours with caution like you'll run away, "Yeah, honey I can tell. You really haven't been actin' like yourself these days."

"I just don't wanna bother you," you confess, the brick coming off your chest, "I always get over it, I don't wanna like -- bum you out if it's not like...if it's not a big deal."

"I don't care if it's a big deal or a little deal," his heart bleeds for you while he speaks, "I don't care if you're gonna be over it in fiteen minutes. When you're hurtin' like this -- babe you gotta tell me. You gotta talk to me. Or else how're we gonna make this work?"

"It's just not important."

Eddie can tell that you mean it when you say it; he's never felt more frustrated with whoever convinced you that this was true.

"It's super important to me," he encourages, "Your shit is like, top of my list babe."

"Top of your list?" you crack a weak smile.

"You think the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of when I go to sleep isn't on the top of my priority list?"

"Okay, well now you're doing to much, Ed," your face scrunches in the way that he loves, not letting you totally get out of his hold yet while you try to squirm away.

"Hey, look at me, before you get up," he cups your cheek again, gently, your eyes meeting his brown ones. Eddie leans in for a kiss, a soft reminder that he's not going anywhere anytime soon -- not that you'd want him to. Not with lips like that.

When you break away, his nose nuzzles yours, coasting up to press another gentle kiss on the center of your forehead. Long and intentional, warm enough to get you to close your eyes.

"It's gonna be okay," he assures, "It's okay if you're not, but -- I gotcha until you're feelin' better, hm?"

You nod, sniffling snottily and wiping your wet cheek.

"I am ordering us quesadillas," he whispers, stealing another kiss from you, "Because if you're going to rot on my couch, I'm gonna make you rot next to me."

"We're rotting!" you cheer half heartedly, pouting when he gets up to get his phone for take out. When he finishes, he holds his hand out and you sheepishly put your hand in his.

Eddie curls bounce when he shakes his head, "Peach, you know what I'm asking for."

"No," you frown, "I need it to rot."

"Peach...please?" it's more of a warning than a question, and you slide your phone into his hand. He doesn't check it, but he knows that if you don't have it 'locked away' in his sweats pocket for a while you'll just end up zoning out the same way you did before.

"Thanks, sugar," he smirks, "You're so good."

Your cheeks burn at the priase, rolling your eyes with a grin that cracks against your features, "Don't. We're not doing anything sexy."

"Yeah I know," he shrugs innocently, finding his way next to you again, "But when you smile like that, who am I to deny you a lil' somethin'?"

He dims the lights in the open space from the remote on the coffee table, settling in while you make yourself comfortable in his side. Eddie keeps you close on nights like this, when he knows you're on unsteady ground. You're still quiet, but the start of another Twilight Zone marathon keeps you more alert than before. With steady breaths you start to relax in what he'd deem a healthier way than before, and the quiet doesn't make his brain too fuzzy this time around. In the still of the living room and the hum of Rod Serlings voice, he feels you squeeze his hand -- a silent thank you. He doesn't think he could be any more in love.

#orange colored sky #older!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #older!eddie munson x you #ocs!eddie #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie musnon #eddie munson fanfiction

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muniimyg · 3 months

Text

4: the cold // series m.list

note: reblogging w fic taglist cos the limit is annoying n my posts keep glitching </3 sorry for the long wait! i literally finished c2u and was working on c2u's extras as well as attempting to keep my life together LOL . this jk is literally GETTING INTO IT YUHHH . hope everyone is enjoying the story ,, i'm so excited for the rest ! we're halfway thru :( if u missed aao jk ,, lmk ur fave moment of his as of now huhuhuuuu

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo

Picture this.

Jungkook sent you a text, claiming to be sick. He said:

jungkook (liar) 3:09PM: no fr i get so dizzy standing up lol

jungkook (liar) 3:09PM: deadass i’m wearing like 7 layers and i’m chilly af .. need the warmth of ur arms, baby 🙏🏼

jungkook (liar) 3:10PM: do u think u can come by w some medicine? i’d owe u like… my whole heart

jungkook (liar) 3:10PM: nvm gave that to u already 😘✋🏽

Your natural response to his concerning text messages was to call him. When you called to check up on him, you noted how he coughed at every perfect pause... How his voice was toned groggy with a hint of pathetic.

Just as pathetic as his lie.

Does he think you're dumb? Fine. Two can play this game.

The second Jungkook opens the door and is greeted by his friends, grinning goofily with alcohol in their hands—he feels the urge to shut the door at their face. “Ah, for fucks sake—”

“Not so fast!” Hobi squeals as he grabs your wrists and tugs you from the back of the crowd to the front. Offering you to Jungkook, Hobi winks, “I believe this belongs to you.”

Jungkook’s eyes soften at the sight of you.

Lowering his head, he purses his lips for a kiss. You blink at him, letting him stand there like a fool. A few of his friends chuckle at the rejection, but it doesn’t dishearten Jungkook. Instead, he lifts his head and carries on.

Hey, the kiss was worth a shot.

With a patient tone, he tries to talk this out. “I thought it was just going to be you coming over...”

Shrugging at him, you answer; “And I thought you were sick.”

"Well, what can I say? I always feel better whenever you're around." Jungkook chides.

Unimpressed, you tsk at him. “Nice try, buddy.”

Your hunch was right.

Jungkook wasn't sick.

There was no eye bag in sight, no cough to be heard, and with the short amount of time it took him to answer the door; he doesn't seem dizzy at all. If anything, he looks freshly showered and prepared.

For a sick man, his 5PM fit was rather suggestive. He's wearing jeans, and a white wife beater with an off-white button-up unbuttoned. He must know he's hot, right? He wore this on purpose.

"A little dressed up for someone who should be pretending to be sick..." you poke his chest.

Jungkook grins, instantly shrugging his button-up off. "Oh, my bad. Here, I'll undress and—"

"Jungkook!" you gasp as you tug his button-up back on. "Your friends are here! Don't be so shameless—"

"Whose fault is that?" he laughs. "___, was I not clear when I asked for you? You. Not the circus.”

“Hey!” Nam Joon cries from the crowd. “Are you calling me a clown?”

Jungkook lifts his head and shakes it. Smiling at his hero, he assures Nam Joon; “Not you, hyung. I love you.”

Earning a few laughs, the moment ends when Jin interrupts and pushes past you. Jungkook places his arm in front of your body, gently moving you against the wall. He shoots Jin a glare but Jin doesn't seem to catch on. He makes one final comment before inviting himself into Jungkook's home; “Stop sucking Joon's dick and let us in!”

As his friends cheer and begin to invade his home, you stand still and laugh at them hustling in. As they make random remarks, Jungkook warns them not to touch certain things in his living room and that his bedroom is off-limits. Walking in, his friends can't help but feel out of place when they spot the homecooked meal Jungkook prepared for you two. The table is all set up. The projector is ready to go in the living room corner, accompanied by the ever so comfy set up of pillows and fuzzy blankets on the couch… The fuzzy blanket on the couch that Taehyung and Hobi have now wrapped themselves in.

Yeah..

Jungkook did not see this coming. He groans at the very sight. His plans were ruined.

Once Jimin gets his little ass inside, you take that as your cue to head in. You duck under Jungkook's arm and just as you think you’re about to get away—he stops you. He takes a step back and swoops his other arm around your waist.

“Not so fast.”

You huff. “Okay. I’ll walk in slow motion—”

“___…” Jungkook says in a warning tone. “Yah, I said I was sick and you show up here with my friends?”

You poke his chest. “I had a feeling you were up to no good. I brought reinforcement.”

For the most part, Jungkook likes to think he has you figured out. Then, you pull shit like this and he is completely tongue-tied.

Jungkook can’t help but applaud your move. It’s petty and nonchalant… It’s well played. Yet, he feels bittersweet at the very realization that you’ve outsmarted him so early on.

To be fair, his main moves are centered around lies.

… Is it so wrong that he thought he could at least get one last good lie before facing the truth?

The truth is that he has grown to like you so much he has completely lost control of his words and thoughts. Every time he’s around you—that’s it. That’s the entire moment. That’s his entire world. He doesn’t know how to keep it that way, you know? He hasn’t figured out how to freeze time and just be with you. So, he lies. He lies in an attempt to make the moment last just a second longer.

He knows he could have you with a simple conversation and his bunny smile. He knows he’s kindhearted and would be a great boyfriend if you let him… He’s just having a hard time navigating through all the feelings. They consume him faster and fiercer than he expected. The only way to keep up is to keep you near, and the only way to keep you near is to keep making excuses.

Thus, this week’s excuse.

He huffs at you. "A home-cooked meal, a movie on my projector, and comfy blankets... Means I'm up to no good? Come on, ___. This is ridiculous!"

"You've been so mischievous ever since—"

"It was just the ice skating thing!" Jungkook defends himself.

"It was also the pocky thing—"

His eyes light up. Jungkook’s lips curve into a smirk. "Ah... Thinking about our kiss, huh?"

Now you feel sick.

Was he serious? How does he do this to you? He says everything so bluntly and out of pocket, your tummy has no choice but to flip upside down and feel all the butterflies flutter.

"N-no!" you panic.

"Pucker up and prove me wrong," Jungkook insists, shutting his eyes and pursing his lips at you. "Like you said, I'm not sick. Kissing me won't get you sick—love sick, maybe..."

You cross your arms at him.

"Jungkook."

Opening his eyes one at a time, he puts his hands up and lets you go. He'll admit defeat here. Clearly, you aren't happy with his moves...

He'll try this.

He'll try honesty.

“___," he smiles, attempting to lighten the mood. "Hey, I was trying to—”

“Flirt?” you finish his sentence. “Yeah, sure… Has it ever occurred to you that you can flirt with me without lying?”

His eyes widen.

“Does it bother you that much?” He asks, feeling like he is completely messed up. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought it was harmless—”

You shake your head, denying his accusation. It was deeper than that. It is the principal and the root of his lying being a habit in your relationship.

“It’s not that it bothers me that much… It's just... Y-you don't have to do all this, you know? I like getting to know you, but it feels like it's impossible. You keep setting up scenarios for yourself to look good in or for me to take care of you in. I'd do it regardless if you're hurt or not. You know that, right?"

"I do," Jungkook agrees. "I just..."

You look at him with sincere eyes. "Jungkook, I'm just not understanding... Why? It’s just weird to me that you were so confident and honest when you confessed. To be honest, I really admire that part of you. B-but now that you’re… That w-we’re…. Uhmm—it's different. You're acting differently. You can flirt with me all you want. It's whatever... But maybe try something else? I'm tired of you lying, Jungkook.”

He gulps.

"You want honesty?" Jungkook begins. "Here it is... I like you too much. Like, so much that I don't know what to do with myself whenever you're around—not to mention it's even worse when you're not. I want your attention. All the time. Everything about me for everything about you."

"Jungkook—"

"Can you wait for me?" He asks you unexpectedly. "Wait for me to get it right... Because I know I can. I will get it right."

When you two join everyone inside, Jungkook’s apartment is filled with so much chaos it’s difficult for him not to A) partake and B) be upset about everyone crashing his date night (by ambush).

Honestly, Jungkook’s been pretty busy lately. He’s been neglecting his social life as school, work, and you (not that he’s complaining) have been taking over. In a way, he finds it sweet that you ruined his plans with yours. Especially since you came in with all his friends. It was a nice surprise. He will definitely take note of your sneaky ways too.

By the time everyone gets hungry, there’s barely any space for anyone to eat. Some friends are sitting on the floor, eating off the coffee table or parts of the couch. Others are eating standing up, and the rest crowd over his tiny kitchen island and dining table. There are a few girls you’ve invited here and just as usual, you all went to the bathroom together. As you all enter back into the scene, there is absolutely no space.

“___!” Jin calls you over. “Eat with us.”

You look at the girls and exchange laughs. They tease you before pushing to towards the dining table. As you approach, you realize there’s barely space let alone a seat. Without much thought, you gravitate towards Jungkook who is sitting and eating. Squeezing your way through, he notices you and nods towards Hobi. Hobi then responds by handing you a plate of food Jungkook set aside for you. Taking the plate, you thank Hobi. Jungkook then pushes his chair back and just as he’s about to get up from his seat to give to you—

“No, it’s okay. Sit.” You insist.

“But you don’t have a seat—”

Then, it happens so naturally.

You place your plate on the table next to his and take a seat on his lap. When you do this, all the boys exchange looks but say nothing. Their eyes almost pop out of their head and Hobi even chokes on his food. He tries to hide it and turns away so you don’t think twice about it. They’re all aware of how shy you are and this? This was a big thing for Jungkook that they couldn’t ruin. You were finally coming out of your shell.

Thank god.

Meanwhile, Jungkook feels winded.

He can’t believe this.

He can’t believe you.

But given the circumstances… He might just have to. So, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he smiles at you warmly and tells you that he put all your favourites on your plate. He tells you to eat everything and that he ordered strawberry bingsoo for dessert.

“I love strawberries!” you gasp. Looking up, you bat your eyelashes and tease him, “yah, you make it too obvious you have a crush on me… You know that?”

Jungkook squints at you, followed by scrunching his nose. You lean against his forehead and mimic his little stare.

It takes everything in him to not lean in and kiss you.

Slowly but surely, everyone leaves. The only ones left are you, Jungkook, and the other 6 clowns. Yoongi and Jin went out to start the cars while Joon, Taehyung, Jimin, and Hobi finished up taking the trash out or washing the dishes.

You and Jungkook are tidying the living room. He thanks you for organizing the little get-together and apologizes again for lying to you about being sick. You tell him it wasn’t that serious—it was just built-up confusion and frustration. Further, you tell him that you don’t want him to see you as someone that he has to jump through hoops to spend time with. You tell him you want it too. You want to spend time with him too. You want to get to know him too.

You want to fall in love—

"I can do that," Jungkook nods, understanding where you're coming from. Your thoughts are interrupted as he fluffs the final pillow and grabs your hands. He squeezes them and then lets go. "But only if you stop being so oblivious. At least try, you know? It's hard for me too. Like, we're dating and I'm trying to woo you and shit—"

Dating?

Woo you?

Shit.

Your heart skips a beat.

"Wait," you pause. "Jungkook, a-are we dating?”

Just when he opens his mouth to speak, Hobi interrupts.

“___, let’s go! Jin wants to race Yoongi!”

Jungkook blinks at Hobi. “You’re not racing when ___’s in the car. Are you mad?”

Hobi lifts his hands. “Shit man, I’m just the messenger!”

Without skipping a beat, Jungkook turns to you with stern eyes. “I’ll drive you home.”

You decline. “You’re already home. Relax, it’s Jin. He’s all talk and no bite.”

“___…”

As a compromise, you promise him; “I’ll ride in Yoongi’s car.”

He thinks about it for a moment. Then, he realizes he has no other practical choice. “Fine. At least if you guys do race, you’ll be in the winning car.”

Hobi coughs. “Yo, what the fuck? I’m riding in Jin’s.”

You laugh and tell Hobi you’ll meet them out the door in a second. Hobi leaves immediately, yelling at Jimin to trade spots with him so he can ride with Yoongi. Once he’s out the door, Jungkook’s apartment falls in silence.

“.... I better get going,” you breathe. “I’ll see you around?”

Scanning his apartment, you smile at the sight of everything being tidy. Picking up your feet, you head towards the door. Like a sad puppy, Jungkook trails behind you.

As you head out, Jungkook feels an urge in his stomach to make this moment last longer. “Oh... S-sure. See you at the library tomorrow?”

“You hate the library.”

“No, I don’t—”

“It’s also Saturday tomorrow.”

Jungkook blinks at you. “I love spending my Saturdays in the library.”

Giggling at his awful attempt, you remind him, “hey, we just talked about you and your fibs—”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jungkook surrenders. He puts his hands up and tilts his head. Pouting as you put your shoes on, he continues to ramble. “See what I mean? I say the wildest things just to be with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, plopping back up. Jungkook then helps you put your jacket on and gives you your tote bag. “Whatever you say, liar.”

He rolls his eyes at you. As you open the door, you face him with a silly face. He ruffles your hair as he bids his farewell, “Goodnight. Text me when you get home, baby.”

Then, just like that, the door shuts and Jungkook is all alone.

As he turns away and finally feels like he can catch his breath after everything that happened between you two tonight, he hears the door knock. Turning back, he reaches for the doorknob, opens the door, and sees you standing there.

“Did you forget something?”

“Goodnight kiss.”

He draws a blank.

“What—”

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat as you tiptoe and reach for the nape of his neck and pull him close. Leaning in, you press your lips against him and kiss him softly. Without hesitating, he kisses you back and chases your lips the second you pull away.

You pull away too fast for his liking.

“Okay, goodnight—”

He kisses you again, deepening it as much as he can. When you pull away to catch your breath, he sneaks in one last kiss. Then, he kisses your cheeks and turns you around. Before sending you off, he teases you one last time.

“Go away. I hate you.”

Laughing at his words, you realize that sometimes—they aren’t so bad.

Him and his lies.

You and your reading in between lines.

#bts fanfic #jungkook scenario #jk fic #jk f2l #jungkook drabble series #jungkook fluff #jungkook boyfriend au #bts f2l #bts fluff

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chronicbeans · 4 months

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Nurse's Office

Needed to write a platonic Alastor x Nurse Reader Angst fic after I saw that fight between him and Adam like holy hell.

TW: Injuries and Blood, Medical Tools/Procedures, Anxiety/Slight Panic, Spiraling Mental Health

So... When you got started at the Hazbin Hotel, you didn't expect to be a nurse there. Sure, you have the skills, but you usually don't have a nurse working a hotel. Now, though, you completely understand why they'd want to hire you for that, and not the room service position you applied for. Over the little time you've been here, you've seen more injuries that you could've ever imagined at a single hotel, with so few guests.

After the fight with the angels, though? You have been working on overdrive. You've had to patch everyone up, and you can't even find Alastor. You keep doing a head count after every person you treat, seeing if you can find him, but he doesn't show up. Your anxiety only gets worse once you check on Vaggie, the last person you had to help, and he still didn't make an appearance.

You don't want to assume the worst, though, so you grab some medical supplies, put them into a bag, then head out into the debris. He has to be somewhere. Even if he's not alive, he still deserves to be found. He also couldn't have gotten far! Yeah, he kind of... disappeared at one point...? You didn't get a good look, but he did disappear from your sight. But you don't suspect he'd have went far from the hotel while injured. Just far enough to be safe. That's what you hope, at least...

You continue wandering around for a few hours, your legs feeling exhausted after a while. Climbing over all the rubble, breathing in some of the settling dust, and straining your eyes to see up ahead is tiring... that, and you keep scraping your hands and knees on the sharp rocks and broken concrete. The most disheartening part, though, is that you still haven't seen him... Then, you spot it.

A tiny little splatter of blood.

Then, another splatter nearby...

And another...

Yes, a trail! You don't know who it's going to lead to, but you can see some lights in the distance. It at least leads somewhere. You quickly begin to follow it, seeing the red light get brighter and brighter. The radio tower comes into view. You know that it has to be Alastor, at this point. Why hadn't you thought of it sooner? You climb down the rubble, beginning to make your way over to the ruined tower ahead of you.

As you get close to the bottom hatch, you hear some footsteps against the floor. Immediately, you knock on the hatch, making your presence known. "Alastor! It's (Y/N)! I'm coming in there! If you're on the door, you better get off. Don't even try to stop me from getting in, either, because I'll climb through one of the windows if I have to." You pause, hearing the footsteps stop for a moment. After a few seconds, you crawl into the radio tower.

The place is a mess, to say the least... which, you expected. You stand up, then immediately scan the room for Alastor. It's a bit dark, and knowing him, he's probably going to try to hide, somehow. He hates being seen as weak, and from all the blood you've seen so far, he's gotten injured. Badly.

"Alastor? I know you're in here. I heard you walking." You walk around the room, checking every corner. Then, you notice an oddly moving shadow, alongside a puddle of blood. You walk over to it, frowning. "I know you're there. Come on. I'm here to help." You sigh as the shadow makes a little grunt noise, much like a deer would. You then cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at it. Looks like you'll have to appeal to his ego a little.

"How do you think people would feel if you, the great Radio Demon, died here alone in the shambles of his radio tower?" The shadow grows quiet as you say this, and before you know it, Alastor appears before you. He looks terrible, holding his stomach with one arm and the broken remains of his microphone in his other hand. You take a step towards him, but he backs away a bit.

"I'm fine, dear... It's nothing I can't handle. Just give me some time to regain my energy, then I-" You shake your head instantly, gesturing to his wound. "No, Alastor! Look at you. You almost died! Sure, maybe you can regenerate, I don't know... but I spent an hour or so looking for you, with the sole intention of helping you! I didn't come here for you to tell me "No, I don't need help, even though I'm severely wounded"! I came here to assist you."

You watch his eyes widen, his already strained grin becoming even more strained. His ears then pull back, the look in his eyes becoming more distressed. He mutters something, before nodding. Then, he leans against the wall, before slowly easing himself to the floor. "Fine, dear. If you truly came all this way, I guess it would be rude if I said no to your help." You are a bit shocked he gave up so easily, as well as how uneasy he looks. You decide to just help him, though.

You crouch next to him, taking out your medical tools from your bag. "You're definitely going to need stitches... my healing magic can only do so much, but it should work better if I close the wound first." You smile gently, before you point to him. "Though, I'm going to have to, at least, unbutton your shirt and coat to do so. Are you comfortable with that? I know you are very iffy about being touched..."

Alastor then begins to show more visible signs of discomfort, his eyebrows furrowing, and a slight static hum droning from somewhere nearby. You pick up on it, beginning to think aloud. "I can try to find some way to maneuver around the fabric, instead, since it was cut open-" "No. No. I trust you, dear." You blink a few times, wondering why he is acting so oddly. "Are you sure...?" "Yes, dear. I know you well enough to trust you." He then pauses, before quickly adding "You're a medical professional, after all. You've probably seen more than an upper torso, before. I trust you to not be a degenerate."

You simply chuckle, nodding. "You better! I'd say we're good friends, after all." You then quickly unbutton the clothing, before grabbing some sterile gloves and disinfectant. As you put the gloves on, you hear him mutter something, once again. Then, when you grab a set of tweezers and a cotton ball, he makes an odd comment. "We're great friends, yes...? If I told you a secret, you'd keep it, right?" You nod as you pick the cotton ball up with the needle, cover it in disinfectant, then begin to disinfectant the wound. "Yeah. You can tell me. It'll probably keep you distracted from any pain you feel, too."

Instead of a hiss of pain, the static noise grows loud for a moment. Then, it quiets down a bit as he talks. "I'm not entirely sure if you know this, already, but I made a deal... My soul is owned by someone else. I regret it more than anything..." You let out a little hum, your expression changing to one of shock. You grab the suture needle, as well as some thread. "Why are you telling me this?"

"(Y/N), my dear... I trust you more than many others. I've seen you working in that nurse's office of yours. You care more than the average sinner about others. Almost to a hilarious degree. I can imagine you patching up a soldier on one side of a battle and sending them out, then immediately do the same with someone from their enemy's side." He then laughs, before coughing a bit. "You care... but don't care when it comes to the right things to interest me. I trust you to not care about this, even if it means you'll keep secrets from me."

You nod, before gently smiling. "I'll keep it a secret... I know others could hold this against you and use it for an advantage. So, I won't say a word. Plus, you're right. I'm a bit of a chaotic middle ground. I don't like taking sides." You then get the needle into position, beginning to actually sew him up. "So, tell me... Is there anything else you're anxious about?"

His ears flick, the static growing once more. Then, it dies down again. "I don't want to be remembered as an altruist... I don't want to be seen as someone who had died for that hotel and his friends. I know that there's probably some people there who believe I died... and knowing Vox, he probably found some way to watch what happened. That man is practically obsessed with me, after all, dear!" He laughs, again, causing you to have to pause your suturing. After a few seconds, he begins coughing more. He sounds genuinely upset, despite his laughing.

"Why wouldn't you like that?" Alastor seems to disregard your question, instead beginning to talk about his deal once more. "There has to be an exit to that deal... a loophole. Something so I can get out of it..." You begin to continue, almost done with your work. "Are you sure...? What was it?" "I'm sure, and it's private matters."

You finish up, thing up the last suture's knot. Then, you take off your gloves, putting on a fresh pair, and grab the bandages. "... Alastor, are you alright...?" He looks to you, his eyes wide. "Why are you asking...? I am perfectly fine. Not a problem here. After I get free from my deal, I'll be-"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Alastor... you're frowning."

Alastor seems to grab at his cheeks for a moment, an odd, anxious grimace spreading across his face. Then, he begins forcing another grin. His tone is a lot more frantic, as if he has begun to spiral. Or, perhaps, just begun to outwardly express that he's spiraling. "I wasn't frowning. I am fine, dear." "You're not fine... but, if you say so, Alastor. I won't push the topic." You bandage his wound, before sighing. "Okay, so... This magic works oddly. You'll be-"

Before you can finish, he begins standing up. "Hey, wait-" He, holds a hand up, shushing you. Then, he points to himself. "I'll take care of the rest. You should handle your own wounds, dear. Don't think I haven't noticed your scrapes and cuts. You look like you've ran through a thornbush on your way over here." He begins buttoning up his shirt and coat, and you're shocked to see it repairing itself as he does so. Clearly, while your friend's power is limited, he's hiding more secrets than you expected...

"Fine... You better not leave me here by myself as I do so, though." You go from a crouching position, to a sitting one, as you clean off your tiny cuts. You hear him go quiet, for a moment, but can't see his expression due to your focus now being on yourself. After a few moments, though, you hear him chuckle.

For the first time, you hear his voice clearly, with no radio waves obscuring it. "Of course, dear. I never would dream of that. The others, though? Maybe..."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #platonic x reader #platonic #Hehehe I might make a sequel idk

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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teatreeoilll · 5 months

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|| Selfish (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

In which Gojo is so protective over reader she's sure he hates her. Couldn't be further from the truth, but how would you know it without some good old-fashioned over dramatic angst?

TW: mentions of smoking and blood.

"He hates me. I swear, I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating..." You catch yourself muttering on the steps leading to the training field. The breeze tickles your skin, you cast your shoes aside to change them to trainers. "I didn't even have time to go back to my room and change. All day it's do this, go get that… I swear, Kyoto sounds like a great idea these days."

Nobara sits beside you, her look shifts to your shoes, "Where'd you get those? I never saw them in this color before."

"Kugisaki!" You plea, "I'm serious, please. Gojo hates me. How does it make sense that I'm stuck in damn Grade 2 for the past year and half?"

"Maybe," She takes her phone out to take a picture of your shoes, "You're just not as good as you think?"

"Oi, Kugisaki, don't talk to your elders like that!" Yuji's voice butts in, he sits with a thump on the stairs next to you. "But I can't imagine Gojo-Sensei hating anyone. Especially a teaching assistant. It makes no sense."

It really does make no sense, you drowned your face in your palms. How are all these kids supposed to take you seriously when they see you humiliated daily? Rejected from missions. Stuck on the same Jujutsu-Grade as the second year students for so long you've lost all hopes of ever advancing anywhere. Forever a teaching assistant, a mere substitute teacher for the times when the truly powerful had more important things to do.

Disheartened, you've reduced to sharing your feelings with first-years before training. "Alright, pair up. We haven't got all day!" You get up from the steps, trying to pick up the remains of your self-esteem.

Dusk crept over the surrounding trees. You've been watching the students for hours now, noticing how through each change in their pairings they've gotten better and faster. Familiar feelings loomed over you. That's it. That has to be it. Another day of watching these kids surpass their own limits so simply will surely be the end of the line.

You marched straight into Gojo's office, not even making an effort to change to something not drenched with sweat.

"We will not have that conversation again," the white haired man didn't even bother to look up from his phone. It's true, you've had this conversation every couple of months - and you've always received the same unsatisfying answers.

"You're right," you found yourself standing straight across from him, the palms of your hands hitting the desk in between you a little too hard.

"Careful with that, it's expensive." He says. You stare at him in silence. How is it, that with all the anger you hoped he'd notice you've directed at him, he wouldn't even avert his gaze from his phone for one minute?

"Saturo, I've -"

"First name basis, are we now?" Another smug smirk sent your way, your cheeks began to burn.

"I think first name basis may be appropriate, since I've decided to transfer to Kyoto." Oh god, when was that decision made? You've always liked Tokyo, the proximity from the city made all your futile efforts here worthwhile. But it was too late to back down. Gojo's hand reached to his blindfold, one blue eye peeks at you.

"Alright, good luck then." The blindfold snapped back on, his attention returned quickly to his phone.

"Good luck then," you mutter to yourself, walking back through the darkening corridors to your room, "Good luck then, huh?" It's been over five years now since you've first arrived in Jujutsu High, was good luck then all that he could say? What a fucking -"

"Emergency!" A voice rang through the building. Oh god, what now? You think, with your eyes set on your room to wallow the evening in your newly made terrible decision.

"Someone! Please!" Your legs carried you before your reasoning did. Through the curves of the hallways, straight to the first-year's rooms.

"It's Yuji," Kugisaki looked at you, panting, "He tried to pet Megumi's divine dog. I don't think the dog liked it."

Yuji held out his arm. After a thorough inspection, it was just a scary looking graze on his forearm. He muttered to Nobara it wasn't much to fuss about, the blood smearing on the sleeve of his uniform. "It's nothing bad, we'll tend to it any way to avoid an infection," you prompted him to get up from his seat, "I think Shoko's still in the infirmary."

You sat on the infermary bed, with Yuji already on his way back to his room you'd found the time to share your troubles. Shoko sighed, fumbling for a lighter through the things on the tray next to her. "Shoko, I'm going to Kyoto."

She lit her cigarette, the smell of smoke suffocating the small room. "That's nice, when will you be back?" She asked, huffing smoke in the direction of the open window.

"I don't think I'll be back for a while. Or at all, actually." She dragged a chair to the side of the bed, watching your fingers tap on the fabric.

"I wondered when you'll finally do that. You spoke to Satoru again, didn't you?" A sigh escaped her lips. She'd rarely admit to liking spending time with anyone, but the occasion seemed to call for it. "I'll miss you. That prick always thinks he's doing the right thing."

"I hardly think it's right to deny promotions from anyone for so long. He made sure I was so busy that I could hardly find the time to go on missions." Shoko weighed her words carefully, tapping carefully on the ashtray, removing the ash residue from her cigarette.

"It's because he'd never tell you how scared he is for something to happen to you. It's still selfish, don't get me wrong there - but I think he's far too afraid of something happening that it has become easier for him to sabotage you. I told him repeatedly to stop but he just -" Her words cut off by a knock on the door.

"Ieri! You there?" Gojo's impatient knocking had turned frantic. "The lights are on, Shoko. Open up!" Your eyes shot up at Shoko, speak of the devil. The handle turned lightly.

Gojo entered the room, turning straight to Shoko, not even looking at your direction. You'd managed to quickly find an excuse to leave, struggling to believe that's the same man who'd do anything out of concern for you. You closed the door, fingers lingering on the round handle, thinking how wrong it would be to eavesdrop while pressing your ear to the door.

"You know she's really leaving, right?" Shoko's distant voice lectured. "That's on you for acting selfish, Gojo." As you thought, he said nothing. Quickly diverting the conversation to something relating to a mission, another one you weren't supposed to be a part of. Perhaps it was wrong to eavesdrop. You stepped away from the door to turn to the direction of your room. Finally, some good wallowing time.

By the next morning, you've already made all the necessary calls. Wishing somehow it would be harder to convince the higher-ups of your sudden move, but it seemed that help was welcome anywhere, and work always needed to be done.

With your bags half packed, you were almost ready to say the sudden goodbyes to the students. The nostalgic look on every part of your room had already taken over, the final time of staring at that crack on the ceiling, the final time of covering that old coffee stain on the nightstand with a small glass whale statuette Gojo brought from one of his trips. Perhaps it's better to leave it there.

You gathered your nerves, opening the door, just to watch the tall white haired man pace from side to side in the hallway. "Did I forget something?" Your hand held the door open. He jumped up a bit from the sudden voice.

His pacing slowed, he took a step towards you, you gulped at the narrowing distance between your bodies. "I - spoke to Shoko. I think I got carried away, you don't have to leave on my account." The words felt empty as he said them, Shoko must have chewed him out well yesterday.

"You know Go-," You inhaled, "Satoru, not everything happens because of you." He dropped his sunglasses further down on the bridge of his nose, his blue eyes piercing through you. You hardly ever saw him without his blindfold, his stare sending shivers down your spine.

"Shoko was quite adamant it's all my fault, So I thought I better -"

You laughed, "Shoko was also quite adamant that all this time you just cared about me, so I guess even smart people can be wrong sometimes."

"But I do." His hand brushes through his hair, just for it to fall over his eyes again.

"Funny," you snarl, he studies your expression silently. You've taken advantage of that silence to continue, "So all these years you were just protecting me from dying? I thought sorcerers had accepted that fate when walking in here."

"Some things are worse than death," A solemn look takes hold of his face, you could have sworn the color of his eyes darkened.

"Do you take me for such a weakling?" Your tone of voice already deeming the conversation as pointless.

"I never said that. I think you care, perhaps too much. I would never want to see you sacrifice yourself over anything." The joyless tone of voice was far from his usual demeanor.

"Well, now you wouldn't have to see me at all." Your nerves had gotten the best of you. You hardly meant to say it, but as the words were spat out of our mouth, it seemed inappropriate to back off this course of action.

"You're not listening to me, (Y/N)" He could hardly cover how irritated he was, his hand gripped your forearm, pushing you towards him. His breath stroked your face, "I would never want something to happen to you, but you seem to be pushing towards it all the time. Aren't you happy with the students? Why do all of you have to go running around searching for burdens to carry when you don't have to?" His fist contracts tighter around your arm. His teeth clench to stop another flow of words he'd regret later on.

"Satoru, who's all of us?" In your voice a sense of shame, an empty pit has formed down at the bottom of your stomach, his eyes still fixed upon you. The same feeling of being scorned as a child, a tough love you'd thought would pass you by at this age.

"Aren't you happy?" he questions you again, you wiggle your arm as a sign of pain, even as he lets it go you still feel the marks that his fingers left there.

"I am, It's just that -" He couldn't let you go on for a second longer, his lips pressing firmly against yours, your breath sucked away by his tongue. A long minute passed, your hand had found a happy place inside his hair, his arms had restricted your movement and emitted safety all together.

Just as he'd stopped for a breath, you'd decided it'd be far too hard to continue the conversation if this went on.

"I'd like to not be hindered, Satoru," you wiped the wetness of your lips with your sleeve, "Nobody comes to Jujutsu-High to be protected, they come to protect. If I can't do it when you're there, I'll go." You watched his face change, his mind racing behind the sunglasses.

"You can do it here," A piece of sadness was left in an otherwise tranquil voice.

"Good." Your smile had reminded him to breathe, "Now," you mused, "Would you mind kissing me like you're angry again?" His laughter lifted the tension from your body,

"Oh - Dirty," The familiar smirk had settled down the final waves of emotion.

"Not a word, Shoko." You pleaded to her again.

"If you don't want the school talking about it, then don't have your arguments in the hall." She took a long drag from her smoke, "Would you mind kissing me like you're angry again?" She imitates you silently, chuckling under her breath.

"Shoko, I'm begging you!"

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo X reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo X you

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