#who turns into an old lil guy who still does sweet things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

madaboutmunson · 2 years

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MADDIE MY BELOVED

Ahh ok so this is kind of weird and hard to explain

Lil fic request for reader recently moving into Forrest Hills Park where she’s at the picnic benches smoking where she makes Wayne and makes small talk. Enter: our beloved Eddie pulling up home blasting his music with his usual goofball antics. Reader is smiling like an idiot which peaks Wayne’s curiosity so he asks her about it. Thinking Wayne’s another person who judges Eddie super harshly she stands up for him, not knowing that’s his uncle lolol. y’know just you’re usual fluff eeeeee ok hope that made sense bye 💕

Hello my sweet angel!!

Here you go especially for you 😘

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You checked your watch. It was almost time. So you picked up your coffee, magazine and smokes and headed to the rickety old picnic table a little walk from your RV.

Forrest Hills couldn't have been a more aptly named place because that is what it was surrounded by, but the main amusement for you was how the name reminded you of Beverley Hills, but this trailer park contained something much more precious than anything you could ever find there.

You put your sunglasses on, stretch out and light up, flicking through your magazine, and occasionally sipping your coffee. Patiently waiting for your favourite time of day.

" 'scuse me, Darlin'. This seat taken?" You hear an unexpected southern drawl, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

You look up to see a greying man, short cropped hair in jeans and a checkered button-down.

"Sure thing, there is plenty of room" you smile up at him, you are a bit wary at first, but something about this guy's energy just makes you feel at ease.

He's come to the table with his own relaxation set up of coffee, cigarettes and a chunky book.

He puts a cigarette to his mouth, and after a few seconds, you recognise the patting himself down dance of 'Crap, I forgot my lighter.'

You push your chunky metal Zippo lighter over to him, "Here, use mine. Don't get pocketing it, mind you!" you laugh.

He gives you a big smile back. "Much Obliged", he nods and lights up, looking over the lighter and then pushing it back towards you.

You sit in the quiet of the warm afternoon together at the same table, but in very different worlds. Both of you are shielded by the sun beating down on you with the parasol overhead.

The only sounds for the longest time are the birds, one of you turning a page of your respective reading material or the end of one of your cigarettes burning on an inhale.

That is until you hear your favourite sound. You'd only known it was your favourite sound for a month now. There is a squeal of brakes, the sound of gravel being munched and crunched by a vehicle's tires, and you hear the faint sounds of heavy metal on the wind.

A small smile creeps across your face as the music gets louder, and you can hear his raspy voice singing along. It was warm enough to have the windows down today. So you can hear him clear as a bell.

As the van pulls into your eye line, the smile on your face breaks its restraints and is replaced by a huge grin that you quickly hide behind your magazine, flipping it upright to hide it.

The van whines to a halt, its driver door pops open, and out he drops. Your brain lets you slow down time.

He might be the most beautiful thing you have ever seen in your entire life. His dark wavy hair with a hint of Auburn when the sun caught it, or when the wind caught it better still, it made the waves of his hair dance around his face and shoulders.

The afternoon light gives his face that warm glow, shadowing his features just right, picking out his bone structure and highlighting his big brown eyes that blink doe-like at the light.

You must have been holding your breath as the next one you take is a deep sigh of one. Almost like you didn't want to alert him to your presence and scare him off.

He races up the stairs into his trailer and almost leaps in it, making you giggle, and that's usually the end of the show, but not today, it seems.

His head darts back out the door, and he quickly looks from side to side like a meerkat. Then, finally, he rushes down the steps and stands in his front yard a bit. One hand on his handcuff belt buckle, the other shielding his eyes as he looks around.

He seems to shrug and head back inside. The music starts up in the trailer, where it left off in the van.

"Reading the funnies, are ya?" The man asks with a small smile.

"Huh? I mean, sorry. No, not the funnies," you say, jolted out of your daydreaming.

"No?" He says, taking a sip of his coffee, "Well, I don't know much else that could make a smile that big from simply reading a magazine."

A slam of a trailer door turns your head again. The metalhead re-emerges from the trailer, switching his usual long-sleeved outfit to be dressed in a vest and bandana. In his tattooed arms are cradled way too many containers for him to carry, and in his fingertips, a bucket sloshing around with a sponge inches from taking a dive right out of it with every wobbly step he takes.

"Hmmm, maybe it's not just the magazine, huh?" The man at the table grasps your attention again.

He offers you a cigarette from his pack, your instinct is to take one of your own, but you don't have that many left, so you gratefully accept, "Thank you" You smile back at him and light it, passing your lighter back over.

He twists the lighter around in his fingers, "So ya new around here?" He pushes the lighter back and taps it. "Forgive my curiosity. It's not often I hear a different accent round these parts these days, and 'o course your lighter."

"I guess I've been here close to a month now, well on and off" You smile knowingly to yourself, take off your sunglasses and trace your fingers over your home state flag embossed in it.

You had a grand idea of touring as much of the country as you could over the summer, stopping at trailer parks for a few nights, maybe even a week here or there, but something kept pulling you back once you landed here. Well, someone.

One time you even made it out of the state for a week, but you elected to come back, but would take a few day trips around Indiana at least so you could say you'd seen the sights of somewhere, but there was only one sight you wanted to see really.

"Looking to stay much longer?" He asks, taking a sip of his drink

"Maybe. It depends on what happens, I guess?" You take a quick look at the young man bent over the engine of the van standing up straight to wipe the sweat from his brow, only to leave a colossal grease smear.

Your new smoking buddy looks first at you and then over at the young man currently raining down curse words at something on the van he just trapped his finger in.

He looks back at you and raises an eyebrow, "That guy?" He says, a little surprised, "Heard he's a bit of menace."

"A menace, how?" You say, completely dumbfounded. Sure, he was a little loud when he drove in, but so were most people. Just they were listening to pop or country," I found him to be very sweet the time I met him", you add a little defensively.

You remember the night you pulled into the park, it was just one thing going wrong after the other with the RV, and once you thought you'd finally got everything under control, you tried to hook it up to the mains and couldn't for the life of you work out why it wasn't working.

Under cover of darkness, you had let yourself yell out a small scream of frustration and sat on the ground in defeat. Hugging your knees up to your chest and burying your head behind them. You should have left earlier!

"Hey, you ok?" You heard a male-sounding voice say, and nearly jumping out of your skin grabbed the nearest wrench and pointed it at where the sound was coming from.

Your body was ready to engage in fight or flight mode, but it wasn't prepared for the handsome guy that met your eyes. You stood your ground, and your fearful eyes met his kind ones.

He looked you over, and his expression became sprinkled with pity. He took two steps back and raised his hands in submission.

" I'm Eddie. I live just over there" he turned his head and pointed the fingers of one of his raised hands to his right, "I was just having a smoke on the roof, I heard a noise, and when I looked, I saw you sitting on the floor. So I thought I'd come over and check on you. You know, once I'd assessed you weren't actually something terrifying in the night," he laughed, "I am definitely not one for running head first into danger, but trailer park stuff, I can usually help with" he turned on that mega gigawatt smile, and you felt yourself relax a little.

"Sorry, I er, I'm a bit jumpy, and you know it's dark and I'm by myself", you instantly regretted advertising to this guy. You were, in fact, alone. "I mean…I'm by myself now. I'm sure my friend will be back any minute."

Still with his hands held up by his shoulders, he pointed at the electrical hook-up, "Uh huh, sure. Want me to take a look Before your friend gets back? They can be a bit of a pain in the ass, to be honest, but we get so many power outages around here that I'm an expert at fixing them. Would that be cool with you?"

You nodded, "Yeah, that would be cool", still gripping the wrench in your hand.

"Alright, so. You still look pretty terrified… so how about this. You move away a little, and then I'll move forward, and I'll fix it for ya. How about that?" He smiled at you with hopeful eyes that twinkled in the darkness. You just melted and let down your guard. In hindsight a pretty stupid thing to have done but lucky for you, he had been a nice guy.

You lowered your weapon-holding arm to your side and stepped back a little. That's when his smile changed a little, the corners of his eyes creased, and the dimples appeared in his cheeks, "Well, alright then, let's take a look, shall we?"

Eddie spent the next five or so minutes just checking over a few things, and eventually, everything whirred into life.

"Ta-Da!" He said, looking pleased, "All done."

"Thank you so much, Eddie. I was having a real nightmare," you had said and reached into your pocket for ten dollars and stepped towards him, "Here, thank you for your help", you smiled at him thankfully. His eyes looked over your face for a moment as he played with his rings and returned a coy smile.

"You're ok. I…um…yeah, I don't need the money. It's enough to see that frown turn upside down, honestly." He rocked back on his heels with his hands at the small of his back, which pushed open his jacket to accentuate his lithe waist

His change in stance had lit something in you and almost made you feel like a schoolgirl again. You instinctively looked at the ground and tucked your hair behind your ear before looking at him again. "Are you sure? I mean, it's the least I can do," you checked again with him. He was here too, right, and you looked him over. He didn't look the wealthiest, but then who were you to judge?

"I am," he said with a sigh "very sure", his hands still at his back. He moved a few steps away from you again before turning back, "How about this, though, you tell me your name?" He played with a stray wave of hair by his mouth as he looked at you in anticipation.

"It's Y/N," you said much more eagerly than would be deemed cool.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise at your rapid answer and paced around in a little circle before theatrically bowing at you, "An unexpected pleasure to meet your acquaintance Y/N. Maybe I'll see you around?" and with that, your hero had walked back into the night.

"Sweet, huh?" The guy at the bench with you scoffs. "Some round here say he worships the devil, maybe even the leader of a cult," he says, taking another sip of his coffee and looking back over at Eddie.

Eddie, who had completed the van's apparent inner makeover and was now washing her down, had made himself a beard and hat from the foam, pretending to cast spells by wiggling his fingers and blasting water from the hose.

You follow his eye line back over at Eddie having unadulterated fun on his own.

"Are we talking about the same person? The one washing his van right now? They think that guy is a satanic cult leader?" You say, almost laughing into your coffee. Sure he was charming, but evil? Surely not.

"Yep, they're definitely talking about Eddie. Something 'bout the way he dresses or his music." He replies.

You take out your cigarettes and offer one back to him, "You know, I'm pretty sure they said similar things about Elvis, The Beatles and The Stones. Now everyone loves them"

The greying man smiles broadly at you, and there is something oddly familiar about his amusement as he accepts your offer of a smoke saying, "You'd liken him to musical greats like that?"

"I'm just pointing out that people are fickle and sometimes say things that have no foundation in the facts, just for some gossip." You pause for a minute, remembering you had heard his guitar scream out across the trailer park on a few occasions, but sometimes you'd also listened to his gentle acoustic guitar plucking on the summer breeze at night, "Maybe he could be great himself, who knows? He seems talented enough. All I'm saying is I can't see all that evil business myself. The only thing remotely biblical I could liken him to is a good Samaritan."

The man chuckles, "Oh, they strongly doubt that. Callin' him a loser, good for nothin', never amount to anything, punk-" he starts reeling off some unkind names about this angel, and you just lose it.

"Now, sir, I have been polite and endured your company, but I can't sit here and listen to you slander Eddie's name for one more second. You're not even giving him a chance to try!! Calling his fate before he's even had a shot at rolling his dice!" You stand up and start gathering your things, "Shame on you for spreading lies. He hasn't been anything but a gentleman to me, and I have never seen him doing any evil to anyone. Not when he is carrying back someone's laundry for them. Not when he's putting out little shelters with blankets and food around the park for the strays when it's gonna rain. Not when he's playing with little kids when they've been turfed out of their trailer" Your standing with your things in one hand, the other wagging your finger at the man sitting at the bench, your voice getting louder with each sentence, "People in glass houses shouldn't be throwing so many rocks around its-"

"Hey! What's going on here?" You hear a confused voice enter the conversation and turn to face it. It's Eddie, his face looking worried, and his eyes move between you and the older man.

"I think they was just leaving." The man on the bench says, smiling over at you, which makes you even angrier.

"You'd do well not to speak to me again or spreading vicious gossip like that around. Someone could get hurt, " your eyes instinctively flit towards Eddie. "Someone who doesn't deserve it"

"Now, hold on a second!" Eddie says to you, a little annoyance in his tone, "Don't talk to him that way, alright?"

You look confused at Eddie and then at the man leaning forward on the bench, smoke in hand, positively beaming at you, almost laughing. Your blood is boiling.

"You want me to not talk to this guy like that after he's been tarnishing your name since he sat down here?" You shake your head at Eddie and search his eyes for reason, "I don't know you too well, sir, but I know you aren't bad like he says you are." You finish gently. Looking into his eyes douses all the fieriness in you, but your heart still pounds fiercely in your chest, but not in anger.

"Now, I never once said I thought those things. I was just telling you what I heard," the man at the bench interrupts and snatches your attention, but before you can retort, you see Eddie sit down next to him on the bench with a slight smile on his face.

Eddie grabs a smoke from the man's cigarette packet and searches for a lighter. You instinctively hand him yours. He nods his thanks and lights it.

Your eyes dance between the two, who appear to be smiling at one another now.

"Now, what were you doing out here spreading all those lies to this lady, old timer?" Eddie asks the man accusingly.

"Well, I seen her out here near on 'ery day doing the same thing. Brings her stuff out, doesn't say nothing to nobody, waiting for something" you feel your stomach drop and embarrassment floods your system, "an then she goes away again. I seen 'er looking at all sortsa interesting things, and thought I'd have a talk is all' ' a small relief washes over you as he hasn't fully exposed that you had been looking at Eddie.

They exchange smiles again, and you reach for your lighter in a hurry to get out of there. Bewildered as to why Eddie would be smiling at someone who had just been dragging him through the dirt.

He looks up at you through his hair with a gentle smile as you reach over the table, and you're caught frozen in his stare, "This guy", he starts with a small laugh, "Is my Uncle Wayne. I'm afraid you've fallen victim to his mischief today."

"Wait…what??" You exclaim as you hear Wayne's deep laugh erupt.

"Hooo, wow, I got you good, huh? I am at least half sorry, Darlin'. I just wanted to see what you were about, on account of your behaviour, but ain't never heard a stranger defend you so fiercely," Wayne laughs, looking from Eddie to you.

"Defended me, huh?" Eddie's eyes move from Wayne to you, and they sparkle just like that first night as he props his chin on his fist, looking up at you with a broad, adoring smile. Making your heart rate pick up speed again.

"Well, kinda, a little," you say, putting your hand to your hip and changing the subject to escape Eddie's gaze "in that case, I am half sorry I shouted at you like that. I thought you were being mean." You say to Wayne.

"Well, consider me told," Wayne smiles up at you.

You look at the two of them, who are both looking back at you now. Wayne with a happy smile. Eddie's head propped up, staring up at you, toying with a strand of his hair absentmindedly, blinking softly.

"Ok, well, it was nice to meet you both, at least." You say with a smile and wave goodbye, "Until next time."

You see Wayne elbow Eddie in the ribs.

"Ow, geez!" Eddie says, rubbing his side. Then there is some kind of silent communication between them for a bit.

You turn and walk away.

"No-no-no, wait, wait, y/n !" You hear Eddie's voice call after you and a chain jangling.

You turn back to see him in front of you with his hands in his pockets, "So as an apology, we were-, I mean, I was thinking maybe we could have dinner all together tonight?" He says enthusiastically but quickly descends into awkwardness as he rubs the back of his neck, saying, "well, you know, If you aren't busy, that is?"

"I'm not busy," you say softly, and his eyes light up.

As his smile reads pleased on his face, he looks at the ground, pushes his hands into his back pockets, and starts to step backwards towards the table.

"Ok…good…yeah," he says, looking between you and the ground, "So um, say maybe s-" he says as he falls backwards over a rock onto the floor.

You drop your stuff and rush over to see if he's ok. He's currently lying on the floor, running his hands down his face blushing with embarrassment. You extend a hand down to him, smiling kindly, "You know it's not every day someone gets to see someone literally fall for them" you laugh as you help him to his feet.

Your eyes meet with big smiles on both your faces, and you stay there maybe for a few seconds before you say, "So you were saying"

This time he doesn't take his eyes from your face at all, "Well, before I was rudely interrupted by the earth, I was just suggesting maybe you could come round for seven?"

"Yeah, seven sounds great", you agree and receive a squeeze to your hand, which is the first alert that you hadn't let go of his hand since you had helped him up. Now it's your turn to feel a little embarrassed, and you release his hand.

"Seven it is, then" he beams at you and then walks back to his Uncle Wayne, who is waiting for him. Wayne sends you a smile and waves goodbye as his nephew catches up with him, and he promptly grabs him in a headlock as they walk away.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddiemunson #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #romance #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #madaboutmunson #madaboutmunson requests

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samthecookielord · 2 years

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Hey besties have you seen my omori deltarune au and went "wow i have no idea whats going on!!!"

Well me neither!!! Woohoo!!! Here's me trying to organize all the important info the best I can lol

I don't have an official name for this au I just either call it by it's full name or use Omorune if I wanna be quick lol

🖤A Quick AU Rundown™!🖤

Omorune is a crossover between OMORI and Deltarune where characters from OMORI go through the general plot of Deltarune! Not all plot points and character roles match one-to-one though. Also expect a lot of bias towards Spaceboy content gsdgdas <3

Also also expect major spoilers for both games!!

❤Main AU Tag: #omori deltarune au❤

I may say "we" when talking about AU ideas because I don't come up with all the ideas! I usually bounce around ideas with some friends in a group chat like @a-queer-kitkat (second ceo of halkinna) , @pastel-player , @knowledgeable-atlas , and @yim-yum-ophelia-time! So shoutout to those guys too!!

Ok continuing post under the cut

There are a few headspace characters that were turned into regular kids in Faraway! Chosen with heavy bias though sgrrsges here they are:

💚"Halkinna" Honeydew Tag: #lightner!spaceboy💚

💝Susanne Hearth Tag: #lightner!sweetheart💝

💜Rococo Tag (sorry we only briefly talked about this so theres only one post in here gdsdsge): #lightner!rococo💜

Character Stuff:

Kris -> Sunny; Susie -> Aubrey; Asriel -> Mari; Noelle -> Basil; Berdly -> Spaceboy

Ralsei -> Headspace Mari / "Raim" (story-wise) and also kinda Hero (magic healer role guy); Queen -> Sweetheart (separate from Susanne); more probably idk i forgot

Kel and Hero do not replace anyone directly, but they're also part of the party in Chapter 1

Everyone not mentioned is either up in the air (because the incompleteness of Deltarune makes it hard to find good matches that we like), or they remain exactly the same as they do in Deltarune (for example, Alphys is inexplixably the same. Because we don't know any teachers in omori loll)

Dr characters that are for sure the same unless we decide to change our minds: Lancer, Sweet Cap'n Cakes (I love them your honour I can't replace them), Alphys, Undyne, sans, and Toriel

The "kris being the only human in town" thing does not translate to here, but monsters are still normal

Rough Timeline but with like ten question marks!!!

Pre-Game: Mari either got stair'd or she just went to college, depending on how evil we feel at the moment loll!!

A while before chapter 1, Hero gets back to town from college and visits the school. Before class, he drags Kel with him to help clean out the old classrooms, but they both fall into the closet dark world and pass by the castle without checking it.

Chapter 1: Sunny goes to school, group projects are assigned, Aubrey eats chalk by accident, and Dark World shenanigans ensue. Not many story differences other than Kel and Hero meeting up with Sunny and Raim midway through the chapter.

Chapter 2: Sunny and Aubrey are getting along a lil better now! Yay! Dark world happens in the library, Basil gets captured, Halkinna is a lil dummy (affectionate) and helps Sweetheart, who resembles his ex because Sweetheart is a donut-themed USB filled with pictures of him and Susanne that Halkinna left in the library one time. Insert like the rest of chapter 2's plot here.

Chapter 3: find out next time on!!!!(explodes)

#omori deltarune au #omori #omori au

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kagejima · 2 years

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Punk!Sukuna who has a soft side for kids. You come into his skate shop one day with your little brother and can't help but notice how sweet he is. He helps your brother pick out a board, teaches him a few moves, and even gives him a lollypop from his hidden stash behind the counter. It's obvious that Sukuna tries to hide this side of himself but just for a moment there you could see it and it made you smitten for him a little bit ;)

NESI BB I AM NOT YOUR STRONGEST SOLIDER! :(

my birthday is this thursday and all i want for it is Punk!Sukuna please and thank you universe

author's note: this is NOT a teaser for the Punk!Sukuna WIP. the only way this is connected to the Punk!Sukuna WIP is he works at the skate shop heheh. So... double Punk!Sukuna AU?? I guess?? Damn, I gotta finish that Punk!Sukuna WIP for you guys so i can stop suffering alone :(

more thoughts under the cut (gender neutral reader)

There are other things you’d rather be doing on a summer morning than bringing your little brother to a store that’s got whatever his latest hobby is; but deep down, you really care about him and he’s your lil’ buddy – your lil’ errand buddy, your lil’ tv show watching buddy, your lil’ buddy. So it’s not that big of a deal when he just absolutely begs you to take him down to the skate shop on the boardwalk.

You’re like, “Is this because you played the new Tony Hawk game at your friend’s house? 💀”

And he’s like, “yeAH, WHAT OF IT?? 😤”

So anyways – here you are down at the boardwalk, your little brother dragging you practically all the way from the car to the shop because he’s sooooo fucking excited to finally get a skateboard and everything else he needs. You aren’t expecting much to come of it. It’s probably some old guy that works at the skate shop who wishes that he was as good as Tony Hawk.

You certainly aren’t expecting a guy around your age to be working there.

And a very, very cute guy at that.

You’re certainly caught off guard when the aesthetically pleasing punk man smiles at you warmly and says, “Hi! Welcome! Let me know if you need anything!” before he goes back to his paperwork.

You get out some sort of answer, but he’s so handsome that you’re not even sure what the fuck you said back. You hope it wasn’t embarrassing.

While you’re trying to not stare at the guy behind the counter, your little brother is practically bouncing around to every display in the shop, changing his mind every ten seconds about what board he wants. The man behind the counter seems preoccupied and you don’t want to disturb him, so you just kind of follow your brother around the store while affectionately telling him to calm the fuck down.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” You hear a voice behind you.

You know who the fuck it is, it’s only you three in the shop but you still haven’t calmed the fuck down yourself from when you saw him when you first stepped inside.

You brace yourself as you turn around.

Jesus, he’s so much more handsome up close.

“I’m getting my first skateboard today!!” Your brother answers for you.

The man’s eyes crinkle when he smiles as he turns his gaze from you to your little brother, “Oh yeah? That’s exciting, man. What were you thinking of getting?”

“I want that one!”

Oh god. Oh god, of course he wants the red one with flaming skulls all over it. Oh god. This is so fucking embarrassing.

The man laughs, “Are you sure? I could make you a cooler one than that.”

Your brother’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree, “WHOA, REALLY!?”

“Yeah, little dude. Step into my office. You too…. Uh…. Parent?” He tries.

Oh god. OH GOD. When will this nightmare end?

“Sibling.” You clarify.

“Ah, gotcha. Sorry…” He laughs, scratching the back of his neck.

You wave your hand to tell him you don’t mind and trying to be breezy about the mix-up, but you end up whacking a display of kneepads in the process.

Well. This is… fine.

The little smile he does when he sees you do this makes you want to crawl into a hole.

He turns to your brother and leads him over to the front counter, pulling out two stools from behind the counter for you both to sit on.

And you’re mesmerized as he asks your little brother questions about himself – what his favorite colors are, what his favorite animal is, who his favorite superhero is.

You think that he’s just taking notes for a custom order, but when you finally look at the paper in front of him, you see he’s actually sketching.

And he’s fucking GOOD at it.

He doesn’t mind that your little brother is talking non-stop (you’re embarrassed by it, but it’s still cute in a way seeing him being this excited), and he just keeps nodding and sketching away.

“So something like this then?” He finally asks, sliding the rough draft of some art for your brother’s board over the counter.

Your brother’s voice goes up ten pitches as he screams and you consider never coming back here ever fucking again.

“It’s PERFECT!” Your brother gushes, the paper crumpling in his hands as he shakes it up and down wildly.

“Whoa, whoa…” The man laughs, gently plucking it from his jittery hands, “I need this if I’m gonna do it.”

“Can I get it??” Your brother turns to you, eyes wide and wet as his fingers dig into your forearm.

“You’re gonna have to ask Mom. I’m just responsible for bringing you here.” You remind him.

“FUCK!” Your brother yells, letting go of your arm.

“OHMYGOD, WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT!?” Your eyes go as wide as his just were.

Your brother blinks at you.

“You did.” He says.

The man snorts at this answer.

When you turn to look at him, it’s his turn to wave his hand breezily.

“Sorry,” He half apologizes, “It happens a lot. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

And yeah, maybe you don’t have to worry about that…

But you can’t help but think about all the times you’re gonna have to worry about seeing this incredibly handsome man over the next few weeks finalizing this custom board.

And keeping it together much better than you did this time.

#🎶: here comes the queue #sukuna fluff #👑: rae's sukuna sundays #rae's sukuna sunday july 31 2022 #FAHJFHASJKD im soft rn :((

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kashimos-hajime · 4 years

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pretty face on a pretty neck | b.b.

summary: they aren’t fucking dating. not fucking friends, either. no, bucky just fucks romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works. and sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.

WARNINGS: a tiny bit of smut (18+), fingering, choking, swearing, drinking, brief mentions of cheating, bucky’s just really fucking jealous, mentions of a shitty relationship and self-doubt from it, the dark knight spoilers, fluffy end!! pairing: modern!bucky barnes x fem!reader, brief steve rogers x fem!reader lmaoo word count: 5.5k

a/n: this is a cute lil piece written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan! my prompt was “you called me, remember?” inspired by kiwi by harry styles.

For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.

Then again, he’s not complaining.

The view is fucking stellar.

You weave through the crowd, glistening like some glazed dessert that he can’t wait to get his mouth on. Your lips are shining with a swipe of that sweet lipgloss he loves to suck off and you’re wearing that black dress.

The black dress. Shorter than short, showing every inch of skin yet not enough.

You toss your head back, exposing that neck that he loves to bite to Steve who grins, glad his joke landed. Stifling a scowl, Bucky grabs his scotch and throws it back, desperate not to grab you and throw you into a stall just to mark you up as his.

You had made him promise, after all. No socialization outside their little nightcap sessions that often lead to… well, Bucky’s game for anything really.

A cigarette is pinched between your lips and Steve helps you light it with a flick of his lighter, the burning embers glowing in the dark, seedy bar. Leaning on the bar counter, you talk to Sam wiping down his station and he nods, eyes dragging over your face and Bucky cannot tear his gaze away as Sam pours you three shots of vodka. You blow out a lungful of smoke, cigarette pinched between two fingers before glancing at Steve and making some sort of bet, based on the way your lips curl.

They go down like water, dripping down your chin and you laugh when Steve wipes it off your collarbones before he grabs your chin and smashes his lips against yours. You immediately reciprocate, mouth opening as he bends you over the bar, his hair golden and his hand trailing up your thigh.

“Fucker,” Bucky mutters, finally managing to rip his gaze away. A heat blazes through his stomach.

Stupid fucking party for damn Romanoff’s birthday. Sometimes he hates being some of the oldest friends that redhead knows. It makes him feel creepy, wading through a sea of college students that are only one or two years younger than him. Steve himself is finishing his last year, so he’s sure he doesn’t share Bucky’s plight of feeling old.

He wishes he could just approach you and ask to leave, pin you against the wall of his apartment, take you like he knows Steve’s going to later, but he can’t.

You aren’t fucking dating. Not fucking friends, either.

No, Bucky just fucks Romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works.

And sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.

“Not enjoying yourself, James?” Birthday Girl Romanoff asks, appearing at his shoulder and he turns to her, shifting in his seat.

“Steve’s too busy chatting up your friend for me to do anything,” he replies, keeping his tone light and Romanoff glances at where Steve’s made his way to kissing up your neck, your fingers carded through his hair.

“Give him a break,” Romanoff says. “They both need to get laid.”

“You don’t think she’s getting laid?” Bucky asks incredulously. “Every fucking guy I’ve met has said they wanted to get with her at least once.”

“Sounding a bit jealous over someone you claim to hate, James,” the redhead teases, sipping on her mojito with raised eyebrows.

“I’m just saying. All the boys were saying they were into it.”

“And you?”

“She’s… a brat.”

“Seems to me that you’re into that,” she hums, leaning on his shoulder. “Honestly, it would’ve been better if you two met before her and her stupid boyfriend did. Ever since she moved in with Rumlow…” The woman trails off and Bucky absently fills in the blanks, she’s faked every single orgasm she’s had with him. “I don’t know. He’s a fucking prick. Doesn’t treat her like she deserves.”

“Does he—“

“No. Just… never a priority, is she? Why else is she here alone?” Natasha pauses, as if debating how much to tell him, then adds, “Then he gets all pissy about where she’s been. On his beck and call, isn’t she?”

“Asshole,” Bucky replies distantly. Steve has his hand basically up your dress and he watches as your legs pull him closer, your lips running along the shell of his ear. “You’re endorsing your best friend cheating on her boyfriend, you know, when we could just be beating him up”

“Hey. She said she was going to break up with him. I can’t make those choices up for her and I’m not about to land any of my friends in jail trying to be my ride or dies.” Romanoff shrugs, glancing at her friend. “Besides, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, does she? It’s not like she can move into my dorm or move back into her parents across the country.” Bucky watches as you hook your legs around Steve’s waist and he hoists you into his arms, disappearing into the crowd.

By the direction, Bucky can guess the destination and some distant part of his head whispers, She could move in with me.

“Might want to avoid the bathrooms for a while,” he comments and Romanoff snorts, the ice crackling by her straw as she stirs her drained glass.

“I’m going to go get laid, too,” she replies frankly. “Don’t stay brooding in the corner, Barnesy-bear. Your face is one worthy of being sat on.”

“Thank you.”

With that, the redhead slips into the crowd and Bucky gets up, plucking his jacket and leaving the bar. His pants are tight with the thought of your mouth and the sound of your gasping breaths echoing in his ear. The feeling of your fingers scratching down his back makes him roll his shoulders back as he flags a cab.

So what if you’re fucking Steve?

It’s not like he’s exclusive with you.

He can’t fault his best friend for having excellent fucking taste.

As he enters the cab and tells the driver his address, he wonders how the fuck someone like Rumlow snagged the title as your boyfriend when there are so many other options.

Steve being one, but he’s still living on-campus.

Bucky doesn’t want to say it, but maybe he, with his own apartment and steady job and intimate knowledge of your desires and interests and needs, is the other.

It’s two weeks later when he finally sees you again, at Romanoff’s birthday function at the beach. Something with closer friends, in broad daylight at a beach house Romanoff’s parents own. She and Sam are already there by the time Bucky gets there, unpacking in rooms for a weekend stay.

“Take any room you like,” Romanoff calls from upstairs and Bucky does so, choosing one of the few rooms on the main floor just as another figure walks in.

“I’m here, Nat!” Your voice echoes against wooden walls as Bucky pokes his head out of his room to see you there. He doesn’t know whether he should feel guilty or not that he’s glad Steve hasn’t sated your hunger when you show up alone, shorts riding up your thighs and a t-shirt that is so sheer it does nothing to conceal the bikini top you wear beneath it. “I’m taking my usual room.”

“Fine with me!”

With that, you walk down the hall, eyes meandering over the living room and kitchen. Bucky’s throat closes up when you walk past the stairs to stop at his room and you smirk all saccharine at him.

“Hey, Barnes.”

He scans your face for a moment. “You came. Thought you’d still be sucking Steve’s face off like you were back at the bar. Or… sucking his dick. Whatever floats your boat.”

“Well, that was a one-off thing. Heat of the moment,” you dismiss, leaning against his door frame and he hates the way you look against the wood. Makes something in him stir, makes the blood run hot and his mind focus on one image in particular.

“What’d your boyfriend say when he saw your neck fucking marked up?” he asks, uncaring of the thin ice he stands upon. You frown, arms crossing.

“I was careful,” you reply tightly, “and I didn’t let him leave any marks.”

Bucky can’t help the small flash of satisfaction at hearing that. “You’re not careful with me. I like seeing your neck tatted up with it,” he comments, his hand twitching to wrap around your throat as he lifts his finger to trace the soft, pulsing vein along your neck. You tilt your chin up, eyes narrowing with amusement.

“I’m not yours, Barnes.”

“What you say tells me differently, princess.” Dropping his hand to grab your wrist, he pulls you into his room and slams the door shut, pinning you against it with a harsh push. You exhale sharply, the breath pushing out of your lungs as your bags drop with a disant thump. His senses zero in on everything about you, the light scent of the sunblock smeared into your skin, the cotton twisting beneath his fist as his other hand finds your neck on its own accord. “You’ve been distant lately, kitten.”

He can feel your racing pulse against his palm as you smirk, hands wrapping around his waist and pulling him flush against you. Every inch of his skin is pressed against yours as you hike a leg up onto his hip. His hand at your waist immediately goes to cup it and you loop your arms around his neck innocently.

“I’ve had a lot of work to do. Brock and I…” You let out a soft hum as if to ponder but he knows it’s just to piss him off, “spent some time alone. Romantic trip out of town. Then, I had other things to do.”

“Did you?” It’s not a question Bucky wants answered as you nod demurely, lips twisted into a smirk. He wants nothing more than to yank your shorts down, spin you around, and have you screaming his name as he takes you again and again. He’s been blue balled for two weeks and you haven’t answered any of his calls.

Now, he knows why.

“So, that stupid boyfriend of yours was with you, huh?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he leans in close. He can taste the vodka in your mouth still, the vodka he never got to taste two weeks before in a bar, along with something fruity. Your gum, maybe, or an orange that you sucked clean off its peel. “And then what? Did you hop off after you faked your way through a few nights with him and head for Steve’s? Hm?”

“Temper, temper, James,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his. His entire body is alight, every nerve shooting sensations through his limbs as your fingers curl against the nap of his neck. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Jealous, yeah.” His hand on your thigh trails up and inward, sneaking past the hem of your shorts as you lower your leg to hook on his calf, pulling him infinitely closer. His dick is pressing against his swim shorts, completely obvious and painfully hard against your navel as he shifts his hips just enough to let his hand sneak further up your shorts. “Why would I be jealous?”

His fingers find the silky slip of your bikini bottom and brush over the junction of your hip, smirking at the tremble he can feel course through your body.

“You wanted me that night at the bar,” you whisper as he slowly trails deeper inward. “Tell me that isn’t true.”

“Who didn’t, hm?” He smirks when you turn your face away, biting your lip at his fingers dancing around a spot already slickening with anticipation. “C’mon, princess. You telling me you didn’t wear that black dress for me? Look at me.”

You refuse and he rubs his thumb into the side of your neck, dipping his head to bite at your collarbones.

“Look at me, princess,” he whispers, lifting his head to see your defiant gaze meeting his. “Tell me the truth about the black dress.”

“I didn’t wear it for you,” you bite back softly, “to fuck me in.” His hand tightens, just barely around your neck and your eyes flutter shut. Oh, how badly he wants to ravage your lips, lock you in this room and just take you in every way you want…

“Trying to make me jealous, kitten?” he rasps as your hips roll against his dick and you bite your lip, chin tilting up as your nails dig into his skin. Because it worked.

“So what if I was?”

“Then, you’re going to have to pay for it.” He spins you around and moves to shove his shorts just past his hips. You let out a sharp exhale at the pressure of his hand against the back of his neck, your hands pressed flat against the door. “You got anything to say for yourself, princess?”

His swim shorts fall and he tugs your shorts down just past your ass, tracing the smooth curve of it with an arrogant curve to his lip. His lips find your neck, nipping lightly before raising to your ear.

“I asked you a question.” His hand lands on your ass, kneading it with warm, familiar fingers and his words are a warning. In the silence, he can almost hear you rolling your eyes, struggling not to moan when he feathers smooth skin, tempts you with tiny brushes between the legs.

“You gonna keep talking, Barnes, or you gonna prove a point?”

His fingers hook on your bikini bottom, pulling the elastic away with an amused grin before letting it snap back against your skin.

“I don’t know. Are you gonna continue being a fucking brat?” He squeezes your neck, fingers digging into the soft flesh and you almost seem to melt against the door before he drags those bikini bottoms down too. Rolling his hips flush against your ass, he smirks when you shudder and try to thrust him in with a messy jerk back. “Aw, did you miss this?”

“Wouldn’t miss a thing about you,” you reply but it comes out strangled as his other hand wraps around your hip, travels down your navel. It wraps around your waist, keeps you tight against him as you smother his wrist between the door and your hips. When his fingers find your bud, you let out a soft sigh at the pressure he begins to rub into you and he smirks, biting the shell of your ear.

“C’mon, princess. You can admit it if you like,” he murmurs. Your fingers dig into the wood as you try to push yourself—in what direction, away from his hand, towards it, Bucky doesn’t know. He reaches farther down, fingers tracing through slick heat and he chuckles huskily against your skin, biting lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. “‘S that all for me?”

“Shut up,” you growl. Your eyes flash to him and he pushes you flush against the door, your head falling back against his shoulder as cock nestles itself between your cheeks. So close, not quite there. His hand on your neck travels forward, crooking inward and his fingers wrap around a silky neck from the front. He can feel every beat of your heart, the raspy whistle of your breathing. Lips falling to your exposed neck, Bucky sucks marks he knows are going to last if he doesn’t stop himself soon but two weeks has been two weeks too long— “Barnes.”

“Relax… it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper fuck.”

“Cocky bastard.”

“Needy brat.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work at a languid pace inside you. He knows every nook and cranny, every angle that brings you euphoria and he grinds his palm against your clit with every thrust, arrogant smile growing when you melt back onto his shoulder, lips slightly parted.

“Don’t have time for foreplay,” you finally manage to croak and you turn to look at him, eyes surprisingly clear for having his fingers in your soaking heat and working you up a steady incline.

“It’s the fucking beach, kitten. They won’t be in a rush to get anywhere.” Your lips are tantalizing up close and he chuckles, fingers pressing gently into your pulse. “How quiet can you be?”

“Try me,” you breathe, chest heavy and eyes filling with assured focus, “bitch.”

Challenge accepted.

Nudging your legs ever so lightly apart, he is about to push in. He can feel your heart beating through your back, a quick, racing drum and your breasts heave with every anticipating breath.

“James! Y/N! Wanna meet Steve at the beach?”

Natasha’s voice breaks the humid tension like a hot knife through butter, and your eyes fly open as if you’ve risen from a trance and he growls, not quite moving yet.

To say nothing raises suspicion.

He hates it here.

“Sure!” Bucky yells back right into your ear, much to your displeasure and he shrugs, trying to repress the smirk as his hand drops and playfully squeezes your breast. You return with a subtle nip to his jaw and he steps back. Your shoulders drop and you turn around, leaning against the door with a soft, condescending smile. Your eyes are blown with a mistiness and your thighs press together as he sucks his fingers clean. Your gaze narrows, he smirks with glee.

“What was that about not being in a rush to get anywhere?” you ask, dismissively sweeping your gaze up and down his body before grabbing your pants and pulling them up. His eyes follow the slow trail of the fabric and he sighs softly between parted lips. “Play one of those audios I know you’ve got on your phone. Can’t ever get enough of me, can you, soldier boy?”

“Don’t put yourself on a pedestal, princess.”

“I’m not.” You pick up your bags and open the door, letting cool sea wind sweep into the room that was cloudy with heat and lust. He can’t help the smile that digs into his cheeks despite how disappointed he is as you shrug innocently. You play the part so well. “It’s just the facts.”

Not for the first time, Bucky is left with the thought that Rumlow doesn’t deserve a second of your time.

It’s near the end of the month, the very last day. The thirty-first of May.

You broke up with your stupid boyfriend three days ago. He knows because he looked at your Instagram only to find all the pictures with him gone.

But he wasn’t stalking. He was just…

Curious.

Also, Natasha FaceTimed him and Steve, ranting all about it. So, he came upon this naturally.

Not stalking at all.

“Hey.” Bucky’s lying flat on his bed, naked and the sheets are too warm as he hears you pick up with a disgruntled sigh. “You awake?”

“Am now.” You don’t sound too heartbroken but your voice is a bit thicker than he remembers as you sniff. “What do you want?”

“Are you sick?”

“No, I was crying.”

He arches an eyebrow at your blunt response but doesn’t continue that line of interrogation. “Where are you staying?”

“Why does it matter to you? What do you want?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come over, princess,” he replied dryly. “But if you’re on the streets, I can come pick you up.”

“I’m not on the streets,” you reply sharply in a way that makes Bucky doubt your words. “But fine. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Princess,” he begins but you cut him off.

“I just needa pack some things. See you in twenty.”

You hang up without another word. He lets his cellphone drop with a heavy sigh, sitting up and pulling on some boxers and some ratty old university hoodie.

It’s another fifteen minutes before there’s a knock on the door and he moves from the kitchen to the door, abandoning the orange juice he poured to pass the time. Swinging open the door to reveal that pretty face, he smirks to hide the concerned expression threatening to overtake his face. You look like hell, heavy eye bags and a wariness that he’s not used to seeing on your bold face. You’ve got luggage by your legs and a backpack is strapped to you as you regard him.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

“You called me, remember?” you reply dryly. He steps aside, inviting you in. Walking in, toeing off your sneakers, and shedding your jacket, you let your backpack drop as Bucky pulls your luggage in. “Woke me up and everything.”

“Yeah, I bet I woke you up from your beauty sleep,” he snorts and you roll your eyes as his eyes trail over the dull skin of your shoulders, the limpness of your hair. He closes the door behind him, an unfamiliar tug pulling at his stomach. “Your boyfriend didn’t even give you time to find a new place?”

“No. And he’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

“Just a guy you used to fuck on occassion who couldn’t even make you come,” he says sagely and you sigh, rolling your eyes again.

“Are you describing yourself?” The words make blue eyes flash to meet yours and you smirk at the dangerous warning glimmering in his irises. Cocking your head, you shrug and lean against his dining table. “So, what do you want?”

“Why do I ever call you here if it isn’t for fucking you, huh, princess?” he muses, but even he can’t find the reason anymore. Whatever libido he was housing had melted in the time between you hanging up and you arriving at his apartment. As you stand before him, his blue eyes flicker from your exhausted face to the way your body seems strung out and on high alert. He sighs, too. “I didn’t want you in some seedy motel where the locks don’t work and the concierge is probably on the registered sex offender’s list. That sound good enough for you?”

You smile, the only thing familiar about you, and it sends a wave of relief through him. “Being nice isn’t your colour, Barnes.”

“Go take a shower,” he retorts, plucking your bag from the floor by your feet and he notices you don’t protest when he grabs your jacket and throws it in the hamper. “Then, we’ll talk.”

“Fine.” You’re unnaturally obedient as you head silently for the bathroom and he brings your luggage to the living room, setting it by the couch and laying it flat. Unzipping it quickly, he grabs the clean clothes he can find right off the bat and goes into his room to put them on his bed so you can grab them as soon as you come out. You’re standing in his bathroom, shedding your tank top and he grabs some clean towels.

It’s a strangely intimate silence as he offers you the towels and you dip your head in thanks. He can see the beginnings of a bruise on your bicep and he reaches tenderly for it, fingers barely brushing your skin.

“Did he—” The anger comes unbridled, hot and heavy and dark, in his voice and you don’t even jerk out of his touch. You’re completely relaxed in his presence as you look at your reflection in the mirror, so unlike a few minutes before when you’d been a ball of tension and you shake your head. His thumb gently digs into your skin and he can feel the pulsing heat of it. It’s fresh. Not even a day old, probably.

“No. I was walking and it was dark. Guy was coming out of a cab and didn’t see me standing there. Got whacked by the door,” you assure, pulling your arm out of his loose hold. Unbuttoning your pants, you continue to undress as he stands there, eyebrows knitting together. The air is wrought with an energy he’s unfamiliar with and he withdraws but your hand reaches for his wrist. Wide eyes dart to your face and he’s shocked by the surprisingly soft smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, uh, sure. Hungry?”

You let go of his wrist and his skin is tingling. He rubs at it absently as you nod, your strange smile ever present. “Starving.”

“I’ll whip you something to eat.”

As he’s stirring Kraft Dinner around in a bowl, he listens to the shower run and thinks.

Or doesn’t think.

Time seems to pass in such a strange way. He’s cooking for you and you’re in his shower and nothing about this is normal or something he’s used to, but it’s not something he hates.

The shower turns off just as he’s sliding the mac into a bowl and he pours you a glass of water before finishing his own abandoned cup of orange juice.

Your footfalls are light and you smell like his shampoo as you sit down at his kitchen island, clad in the clothes he laid out for you.

“It’s just some Kraft I had lying around,” he says uneasily, pushing the bowl towards you but you take it anyway with a shrug and a easygoing smile. You look more awake after the shower and colour has worked its way back into your lips. There’s new life in your eyes as you eat and Bucky, satisfied, heads for the couch just to watch whatever’s on until you’re done.

Everything seems so strange, mundane, almost… domestic as you eat, scroll your phone, and he watches The Dark Knight just because it’s on. He watches the movie blindly, his mind still going a mile a minute and his body unintentionally becoming attune to yours in a way he only knows with when he’s fucking you.

But now, he knows how you move, knows when you’re putting your bowl in the sink and knows when you’re walking towards him by the way his heart starts beating just a millisecond quicker, the gentle give of his couch as you sit down beside him. Your eyes burn into his cheek and he glances at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Come here,” he allows, lifting his arm from the pillow and you scoot closer, pulling the pillow into your lap and hugging it tight. He rests his arm along the back of the couch. “You didn’t die of food poisoning. Pity.”

“You’d have to be truly something to fuck up Kraft Dinner, Barnes,” you reply dryly, smirking at him and he suppresses a snort as you tuck your knees up. “It was good. Although, I hope you’re not living off of that stuff.”

“I do take out every once in a while,” he says with a shrug and you roll your eyes.

“I’m a college student and I can cook better than you.”

“You’re one year younger than me. We’re not so different.”

“Whatever you say.”

Bucky can’t help the amused smile edging its way onto his face as you fall into silence, watching the movie, too. One thing Bucky’s always liked about you, even if he didn’t like anything else, is that you share a lot of the same interests as him. They had whole rants on how terrible some movies were, or the disappointment that was some TV finales. It always made pillow talk a fun time, if they ever made it to that stage.

It was more often than not either of them would wake up before the other and just head out without a single word.

Bucky finds he likes your companionable silence more than he thought he would. Maybe he should’ve indulged pillowtalk a bit more. By the small, sated smile on your lips, he wonders if you’re thinking the same thing.

“You know,” you say after a while, “when I said at the beach house that you wanted me…” Your voice rouses Bucky from his trance of staring at the TV. The credits are rolling and he hadn’t even realized. So lost in his thoughts he was near the end, thinking about Rachel’s letter to Bruce and hyper aware of your every shift in your seat beside him, the movie seemed to pass by in a blink.

Something about the long lost melancholy of lost chances…

Bucky’s never been fucking sentimental, but even he can see the chance that Bruce Wayne really… really missed out on, and the blue-eyed man doesn’t want to be in that position ever. To do the right thing only to find out it’s too late. Because she died in the end, didn’t she? She died and he was alone even though he tried…

“What?”

“At the beach house,” you repeat. “When I basically told you that you wanted me…” you say with a roll of your eyes, “it was just teasing, foreplay.” Then, more seriously: “But I guess I was being like Two-Face. Double entendres, innuendos, all that.”

“You’re going to become a vengeful, homicidal DA?” he quips wryly and you huff in faux irritation, poking him lightly in the chest.

“No. God, use that brain inside that pretty little head of yours for once.”

“Aw, you called me pretty.”

“Barnes.”

“Fine. Continue.”

“Well, what I was saying… When I said you wanted me… God, this is stupid. Feel free to just punch me in the face after, but…”

“But?” Eyebrows knitting together, he looks at you and you pull the blanket up to your face, embarrassment telltale in the way you avert your eyes. He gently pushes the blanket down, muting the TV and waiting patiently. You look more alive that you did the first minute you walked into your apartment and you look like you want to bury yourself in the blankets but he’s not going anywhere and you stare at him, lips pressed into a flustered line. “I’m not going to punch you in the face. You can just tell me.”

“I guess… I just... I wanted to believe that you wanted me,” you state, shaking your head, “for me. Like some affirmation that there’s a possibility you could ever want me like that, and… I’m being dumb. I swear I’m not usually like this, all sentimental and shit, but it’s just I feel like shit and you don’t care about any of that and Brock… I broke up with him because I know he doesn’t love me even if he says he does and that I deserve better but I just… it gets to me, you know? It fucking gets to me when I’m all alone and now I am alone and if he didn’t put me first... maybe it’s because I’m not wanted.”

“Hey, princess,” he murmurs, reaching for your hands and you surrender to him easily as he cranes his head to keep your eye contact despite you ducking your head. “I don’t judge you for any of that shit and that’s wrong. He’s a fucking prick, and people want you here. Romanoff, Steve, Sam…” Me.

“I know. I know and I just… I’m scared because I have nowhere to go. And, you’re always honest with me, and just slap me in the face because… I can’t believe I’m asking you this what if… what if everyone’s gonna treat me like Brock did? What if no one will ever really want me?

There’s a beat.

Then, two.

He’s squeezing your hands so hard he’s surprised you haven’t drawn away but then he realizes your fingers are clutching onto him even tighter, his bones wincing as you crush his digits.

“It’s stupid. I’m stupid—”

“No, you’re not.” Bucky shakes his head and you—fourth year college student and someone he shouldn’t be attached to because you two are so different but he is because you two are so alike—are something else. No one has gotten under his skin like you have.

You’re not fucking stupid. Because I do want you. In a way. In more than one way. And you are irritating and burn so fucking bright and you’re fucking bold, but—

I want you.

He doesn’t say any of that.

And it’s complicated, but that’s how the universe fucking works.

“You’re free to stay here for however long you need to,” he tells you quietly, seriously. “I don’t care how long it is, and there are no catches. Just… just don’t give that fucker another chance, yeah? ‘Cause there’s always gonna be someone who wants you, kitten. Someone who’ll treat you right.”

You smile faintly, knees tucked to your chest and hair still a bit damp from your shower. You’re warm, soft, with no cigarette smoke clouding your silhouette and no glossy sheen of alcohol. You look like you in a way Bucky’s never known before.

He thinks this beats you in any kind of black dress.

“Okay,” you accept and you lean over first to kiss him. It’s a soft peck to the corner of his mouth, an innocent, flitting thing, but Bucky doesn’t mind. He eases against the couch and you lean against his chest, cuddling close against him. His arm falls around your shoulders, holding you tight to him and you melt against him just like he does around you.

For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.

Then again, he’s not complaining.

The view is fucking stellar.

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quirklessidiot · 4 years

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title : cigarettes and parfaits [4] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right? Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, cliche fluff, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT)

Notes: lil development right there HAHSHSHHS , yes tojis appearing soon guYS hddhdhdh thank u for ur patience ily all and yall stay safe and drink lots and ltos of water!! sorry for the late update!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

You stare at the ring on your hand as you stand next to Nanami Kento in the grocery shop, you and him have agreed to see each other and go out once a week while fixing up the divorce papers.

Last week you both had gone to a cafe after work but had to end early since Yuuji had fell down the stairs (despite being athletic, the boy was awfully clumsy). This week, you both decided to do something mundane.

Grocery shopping.

“Hm, what does Yuuji think about this?” You asked, showing the man some bars of rice krispies, “He seems to be a sweet-tooth.”

“Sukuna is the sweet-tooth, Yuuji isn’t really picky with food.”

“Huh,” You hummed, “Sukuna seems so soft despite all the tattoo’s.”

Nanami rolls his eyes at your statement, “He’s just, as kids like to call these days, a nerd.” he retorts, taking the peanut butter off the shelf and carefully placing it in the grocery cart, “He enjoys mathematics and art,”

“Ah, hence the tattoo’s.” you thought out loud.

“I almost lost it when he went home a few months ago looking like that.” He sighs, running his hands through his hair, “It was a sign of rebellion, saying that he didn’t want to move to Tokyo.”

You chuckled, eyes on him, “Must’ve shot up your blood pressure, Kento.”

He clicks his tongue in dismay, the memory still fresh. Nanami Kento unlike what Gojo Satoru said was a very easy person to like and accompany. Ever since that ‘mild’ mishap two weeks ago, you’d have calls and little quick meet-ups aside from the once a week dates.

At times it felt like the little wedding at the Izakaya hadn’t happened, it was as if you were just going out with him.

Nanami Kento didn’t even have to try so hard to make you comfortable, he was just...there and everything just seemed right. He had easily fit right in with your routine.

You continue to watch him and he stops in the middle of his tracks, blinking heavily, “Ah,” he mumbles, placing a hand over his eye.

“Oh,” you paused in your tracks too, “Are you alright, Kento?”

“Just dust,” He mumbles, “It probably got in.”

You hold back a laugh, how mundane, “Here, let me…”

You slowly take his hand away from his face, his eyes shut tight, trying to hold in the pain from the dust getting in his eyes, “Do you mind bending down a bit lower, Kento?” you ask, “I’ll have to blow it out of your eye.”

Nanami follows your orders and bends down. You slowly cup his cheeks and lean in closer to his eyes and softly blow. You notice the slight twinge of his body, the reaction making you inwardly giddy, “Feel better?” you whispered.

The older man opens his eyes and only then do you notice just how close you two were with each other. For a moment, movement around you is slow and you don’t even notice Maki Zen’in standing right in front of you along with Yuta Okkatsu.

“Sensei?”

You finally snap back to reality when you hear that very familiar voice calling you out. It seemed like Nanami had been caught up in the moment too, “Oh,” You cleared your throat, letting go immediately of Nanami’s face and jumping back, “Maki-chan.Yuta-kun. What a surprise.”

The young girl narrowed her eyes while Yuta’s ears were evidently red, signaling that he felt very embarrassed to walk in on that moment, “Hi sensei.” Yuta greets, clearing his throat, “I-uh sorry about that, I told Maki to walk away and-”

“It’s fine, Yuta-kun.” You laugh, a bit nervous. What would happen if she told Yuji and Sukuna about this? You knew how Maki was sort of close with the twins, although she did not know who Nanami was, she may describe him and if the boys were smart enough to catch on with it, you’d be entangled in it pretty quickly and you weren’t ready to meet them as their ‘oji-san’s’ partner.

You were a bit nervous and it was showing.

Nanami takes quick notice of this and slowly wraps his fingers around yours, a small smile appearing on his lips, “Good afternoon, you must be my partner’s students.” he greets, the man had a way with younger ones, you could only imagine how he was as a father figure to the boys growing up, “It’s nice to finally put some faces on the kids that Y/N loves to gush about.”

Unlike your nervousness a while ago, this man is calm, cool, and collected. You almost envy him at how good he’s doing this.

“At least you picked someone better than Toji-ojisan.” Maki nods, “This guy looks actually more serious with life than him.”

You feel Nanami’s brow quirk up at what she just said.

“A-Anyways, Sensei…” Yuta clears his throat, “We’ll leave you and your boyfriend together. See you at Math class tomorrow!” He hurriedly grabs Maki’s wrist and zooms away at a speed of light. Leaving you two awkwardly standing there.

“Toji?” Nanami asks, curiously peering at you, “An admirer, I assume?”

“Megumi’s otosan.” You mumbled, embarrassed, “He likes to play jokes and all that. It’s nothing serious.”

“Hm.” he mumbled, a small dismayed look crossed his features and you wonder why, “If he does anything uncomfortable, you can pull my name out. I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll be sure to take note of that.”

You both continue your way down the grocery aisle, not even noticing that he still has his long hand wrapped around yours.

“Y/N-sensei…” Nobara drawled, placing her head on top of the wooden end of the mop, “How come we never knew you had a boyfriend?”

“Oi,” Megumi growled, “You’re supposed to be cleaning.”

“You’re just jealous that Y/N-sensei didn’t get to be your new okaasan.” Nobara bit back, putting her tongue out. You watched as the raven-haired boy chunk the blackboard eraser at her direction, a vein popping in his forehead.

“Stupid,” He replied, “I’d never let Y/N-sensei near the jiji.”

“What’s he like, Y/N-sensei?” Junpei asked, tapping his chin, cutting the argument short, “I heard Maki-senpai talking about him.”

You watch as Yuuji placed his head on his best friend’s shoulder, “Yeah, she was telling me how older he looked than you.” he exclaimed, you nervously gulped down. Yuuji sure wasn’t helping the situation at all.

“Well,” You chuckled, trying to remain calm and oblivious, “He’s nice and he has kids.”

“Ha.” Sukuna droned, stopping whatever he was doing, his punishment despite not being given any by Nitta was helping the cleaners clean for the whole week, much to his dismay, he had to follow or you’d be giving him a slip, “You’re dating an old man? I thought the reason why you didn’t date the Zen’in-jiji was because he was old and he had kids.”

“Oh.” you looked down on your books on the desk, embarrassed, “I don’t have a problem with kids. In fact, I’d love to meet them.”

“Wah,” Yuuji’s eyes were sparkling now as he hurried in front of you and placed his elbows on top of your table and head on top of his hands, “I hope I really get to meet someone like you, sensei.”

“Stupid, I doubt any sane person would want to go with you.” Nobara said across the room, making Yuuji glare at her and started teasing her.

You chuckled once again at their antics. Meanwhile Sukuna continues to stare at you, eyes narrowing especially at the ring on your ring finger. For some odd reason, it held quite the familiarity.

Yuuji likes to think that Nanamin is the best godfather out there, technically, he was like a father to them already. So he had always wondered why he never got married, he was sure that when they were out a few times, many women would crowd for their ojisan.

His father’s very close friend, Haibara-ojisan had mentioned one fleeting moment back when he was babysitting them that Nanamin was very secretive on who he liked that even he didn’t know if he’d ever been in a relationship.

But things were different these days, for the past two weeks, he’d have one day wherein he’d go home later than usual. It was odd to say the least and not like he minded really, they were high school kids after all since Nanamin hated overtimes.

He mentioned it to Sukuna but his twin just rolled his eyes and said, “Man probably needs to chase the bag or something, he technically is paying for this nice house and two freeloaders here.”

Yuuji doubted it though! Nanamin earned pretty well and he didn’t really need overtime since he was technically the boss or so he heard from Geto-ojisan a few nights ago.

So while he was making them some katsudon for dinner that night and Yuuji was doing some homework for your class, he decided to ask the question.

“Saaay, nanamin-ojisan…” he drawled, placing his pen down, “You’re coming home a lot later than normal these days…”

The older blonde turns to the younger twin, face still straight-lace and stoic, something that Yuuji was accustomed to, “Work has me by the neck.” he replies shortly.

“Every wednesday’s?” he quips, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes.”

“You aren’t dating anyone?”

Silence erupted between them, the only sound could be heard was the sizzling of the chicken on the pan, “What made you say that?” he asked stiffly and maybe, if Yuuji was ignorant, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight twitch of his brow but he wasn’t.

Yuuji prided himself to be an observant person, someone had said he could pass off to be a detective in the near future, he had the agility and the observation skills (sukuna said otherwise though and said he’d get himself killed if he were to ever enter that field)

“You sometimes have that weird look on your face when you look at your phone.” the boy pointed out, “But Sukuna says you’re just chasing the bag so maybe he’s right, he’s kind of the smarter twin after all.” he mumbles the last part with great disdain.

Nanami lowers the fire on the stove and places his hands on the counter in front of Yuuji, “What if I told you I was sort of seeing someone?” he mused, humoring the young boy.

“Are you really?” Yuuji’s eyes widened, surprised written all over his features, “What are they like, Nanamin-ojisan? Are they pretty? Do they know about us?”

“Oi what’s the noise about?” Sukuna’s raspy voice cuts through Yuuji’s excited one as he enters the kitchen, hair still wet from the shower and in house clothes with a towel hung on his neck.

“I told you Nanamin-ojisan was seeing someone!” Yuuji yelled, eyes sparkling since he was right this time, he quickly returned his gaze back to the older man, “When do we get to see them? Are they nice? How’d you guys even meet?”

“You’re seeing someone?” Sukuna spat, eyes wide in complete surprise, “How’d you even get someone to stay around with your uptight attitude?”

“Yah!” Yuuji yells, “Nananmin-ojisan is nice with women unlike you, no wonder girls are very scared to approach you!”

“Shut up,” Sukuna grumbles towards his twin then turns towards his godfather, “How the hell did you even meet?”

Nanami just shrugs, telling them they’ll know soon enough as he returns to his cooking. The boys seemed to dislike his answer though and continued to bug him. After cooking dinner and having their fill, he returns to his room and whips out his phone, a text message from you saying, ‘hey, the boys asked me about you earlier. They heard from maki-chan.’

The blonde wonders if he weren’t drunk, would he even consider doing this sort of thing? Dating was really out of the question, he admits he isn’t in the right place to go out with anyone especially with a young person like you.

He thinks he’s taking advantage of the power-dynamics since he’s older.

He doesn’t even deny how weird it was that you're still hanging around him especially when you had a far richer man as one of your admirers. Satoru may or may not have overhead Yuuji gossiping about you one time and your ‘relation’ with Megumi’s father, it was definitely a small world and judging from the Toji you had mentioned a few days ago, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots that it was actually Toji Zen’in, a member of one of japan’s high business clans.

He shakes his head before pressing the call button, it only takes a few rings until you answered, “Hey kento.” You greeted, “What’s up?”

He hears the sound of a whizzing electric mixer on the other line.

“Boys gave you trouble?”

“No,” he could almost feel the smile on your words, “They were just surprised I liked a man with kids.”

“I reckoned, Yuuji seemed to have caught up too in my side. Been asking why I’m going overtime.”

Silence settled between you two for a moment and Nanami wonders if you’re scared out of your wits. You might be backing out this deal after testing those waters, “Maybe you should tell me when I could meet them then? We wouldn’t want them to run into us during one of our outings or when we’re fixing up the divorce.” you replied softly.

“Hm,” he mumbled, “I’ll be sure to ask them about that. For a temporary setting, you sure take this matter quite seriously, Y/N.”

“Well, I did say I’d help you out.”

A small smile reaches his lips as he hears your small and shy voice. It seemed like having people to check up on you by the end of the day wasn’t so bad, after all.

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

; @coldbookworm ; @frankenstein852 ; @neavil ; @shephard17895 @kristineyoshaii ; @airybnb ; @okachansenpai ; @amortentiaxo ; @rinvtaro ; @franko-pop ; @kozutenshi ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @bleepop ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @pettybroccoli ; @nixxona ; @kiyoo-omi ; @omibaby ; @bokkunto ; @peccobagnaia ; @sangwoahbigbussy ; @inu-makki ; ; @megumiisee ; @softieelorelylove ; @azellianna ; @haruhuiii ; @restless-human67 ; @tsukkisfatsimp ; @taihjj ; @shayiswifey ; @roione

@Kurok1717 ; @hcn421 ; @shinhiromi ; @airybnb ; @katshuya ; @atsuhaya ; @donotcallagain ; @answerthesirens

#jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #nanami x you #cigarettes and parfaits

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

me time (m)

summary; the first time virgin!mc meets her mans (but she doesn’t know it yet) pairing; jungkook x virgin!mc genre/warnings; fluff, college!au, boarding house!au, based on the virgin!oc discourse, female masturbation (thanks to the pretty bridgertons), a lil sad and longing at the end w/c; 1.3k a/n; y’all really brought manhater!mc and virgin!mc to life! this couldn’t be done without all of your fabulous input and support. obviously the virginverse is freeform at this point—think of this more as a prequel for these two. set in freshman year of college, when they’re just acquaintances. (do you guys think of cher from clueless when u think virgin!mc? very outgoing n’cute but also very innocent?) anyway, happy valentine’s day i hope you and your boo (whether digital or in-person) get your me/we time💖

Your wooden lap desk is toppled to the side. Good thing the space between the mattress and floor is small, your pink monstera-shaped rug softening the blow when your water bottle, pencils and laptop fall to the floor. In the back of your head you know everything is fine because the last episode of Bridgerton is still playing, an orchestral version of Ariana Grande’s Thank U, Next continuing on as if nothing’s astray.

Yet you’re nothing but astray, forgotten about the episode and writhing against your too-small twin as you let yourself cum for the umpeeth time.

You’ve lost track at this point (how couldn't you? Bridgerton is hot) but from the way your hair mats to your face like a second skin and your pussy feels spent and battered, it’s been awhile. This should be your new Valentine’s Day tradition, fucking yourself until you pass out on your vibrator.

“Ah, ah fu—uck, yyyes!”

The sheets are sopping. The grey cotton fabric does nothing to hide your juices that seep from your bare cunt to the mattress. Flinging your silicone toy to the side, you pull your hair up and out of your face.

Water, you need water. Maybe a cup of green tea with a dollop of honey. Sugar always helps the immediate low after a good couple of rounds.

However, you’ll never get used to the feeling of cleaning up yourself. The feeling that you’ve done something completely lewd all on your own, no one to assure you the things you’re doing are weird. It’s okay though. You love to be alone, it takes a lot for you to feel lonely.

You slip on a pair of dolphin-cut shorts, too tiny that they are drowned beneath your emerald green slip dress. Quickly opening the door to your room, you’re met with absolute silence. White walls containing empty rooms and a living room without a soul. Just like you’re expecting in a college boardhouse on Valentine’s Day.

What you’re not expecting however, is Jeon Jungkook staring at you the second you crack your door open.

“If you’re screaming that loud, your partner must be doing a good job.”

Jungkook lives on the other side of the boarding house, therefore you’ve never really interacted with him. Excluding the landlord there’s only five other tenants, a group large enough that you’ve never had to have one-on-one with him.

You really didn’t think anyone would be in the house on Valentine’s, especially Jungkook. He’s an absolute cutie pie, even though you don’t know anything about him. The only thing you really know is that his sparkly brown eyes are to die for, they remind you of coffee milk tea, a craving you only indulge in at the end of finals season.

To your surprise, Jungkook looks like he hasn’t gone out all weekend. Him, single? As if! Yet you can’t justify any reasoning behind him being home if did have a girlfriend or boyfriend. His dark hair is fluffy and freshly showered, and you can’t ignore the smell of linens from his soft sweats and long navy hoodie.

Normally, you’d be quiet during Me Time. You’ve perfected the art, stuffing your mouth with your pillow or playing action movies to muffle out the sound. You thought you were in the clear. The thought of Jungkook overhearing you turns you on a little, makes the dampness between your panties even more evident, but you keep that self-indulgent secret to yourself.

“Oh, well,” you curl your lips in a smirk, closing the door behind you so he doesn’t see that your room is actually very much devoid of life, “she’s very powerful.”

She, meaning your favorite vibrator in your entire world. It has ten settings and a heating mechanism. More importantly, it’s rechargeable. You don’t know how you’d survive freshman year otherwise.

“Okay, TMI,” despite the fact Jungkook’s blushing he’s chuckling, holding a hand out for you in the narrow hallway, “after you.”

You quickly slip past him, walking into the shared kitchenette. Bare feet slapping against the hardwood, your eyes immediately gravitate toward the upper cabinet. Jungkook is following you, presumably to get his own late night snack. When you lift your arms to reach your mug, you feel a little bit of cool air brush against the uppers of your thighs. It’s a nightgown, a pretty satin slip that falls over your curves and leaves much to the imagination. A couple more centimeters to get your mug and you’ll be definitely flashing Jungkook.

“Um,” you practically hear the twisted face he’s making.

“Sorry—I’m sorry!” you blurt, waving your fingers to catch the handle of your mug, “I’m really not trying to flash you—please don’t fill a harassment report! I just can’t reach my mug.”

“No, that’s my mug.”

“What, no! I’ve been drinking from this mug all year!”

“You’ve been drinking from my mug?” Jungkook is affronted, walking past you to easily grab the mug you’ve been struggling to reach for the past minute. He flexes the bottom part of the mug in your face, where his initials are painted in black. “This is my mug, my parents put my handprint on it when I was a year old.”

It’s then you notice on the lower shelf, there’s an identical mug. This mug has been buried all the way in the back, dust collecting on the rim. It also has a baby handprint on it, although upon closer inspection it’s smaller and in a more faded shade of black. That’s your mug.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you feel your heart fall all the way to your ass, feeling guilty, “I’m so sorry. I’ve washed it and everything, if it makes you feel any better.”

He frowns, holding the white porcelain between his hands. A litany of ideas run through your brain. Is he disgusted by using the same mug as you? Have you potentially ruined a prized family treasure?

Thrusting the mug into your chest he says, “Make me a hot chocolate and we’re even.”

You smile a little, eager to please. You quickly get to work, simmering the pan with warm milk and melting chopped chocolate. You rinse your mug with some hot water, letting it sit next to his awaiting mug. For a bit of flair you add a capful of vanilla extract, all while Jungkook watches you with mild awe. The smell of sweet late night confections fill the kitchen, a fitting theme for a Valentine’s night.

“You’re not burning the milk,” Jungkook murmurs more to himself than you, watching as you pour the hot chocolate in cups without spilling a drop.

Jungkook is known to burn things in the house. The only thing he doesn’t burn is ramen, and that’s purely due to survival skills.

“What can I say, I’m an expert,” you wink, handing him his mug and you holding yours.

With matching mugs, the two of you take your first sips of the melty beverage. You lean against the stove facing him, while he faces you against the marble island. Jungkook smiles and a bit of cocoa touches his petal pink lips. He says it’s perfect and you smile into your cup, absolutely swelling with pride.

Jungkook’s probably working on his photos. He always says his editing bug is itchy at night. While in passing you’ve said you’d love to see his work, however that gesture of kindness never really amounted to anything. Maybe tonight’s the night. You like art, you’d love to be a little more educated with it. Just as you’re about to ask and strike up some conversation, Jungkook beats you to it.

“Well, hope you and your partner have a good Valentine’s,” Jungkook holds his cup in salute, walking back into his room, “just keep it down.”

Oh well. You sigh to yourself, letting Jungkook walk away without a fight or a retort. After all, it was you who implied you were sneaking in a bed partner tonight. Sinking your eyes into the brown liquid, you fall into a lull. The creamy liquid swirls in your grasp, making your muddied reflection ripple away.

You love to be alone, but it takes someone like Jeon Jungkook to remind you that life gets a little lonely.

#ficswithluv #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #btsguild #btswritingcafe #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts smut

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jackrrabbit · 3 years

Text

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

#haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #kuroo x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tendou satori x reader #atsumu miya x reader #osamu miya x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu imagines

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watermelonlovershigh · 3 years

Text

Day in the Life of a Single Dad with a 2 Yr Old

This was requested by this anon.

AN: let me know if you guys like fluff fics & i'll try to write them as frequent as my smut & sicfics. also couldn't come up with a better title so... yeah the title is a lil iffy.

Things to help you understand this story better:

(Harry is a single parent/Harry is 25/Harry is a healthy eater/Loves his daughter so much)

Harry is peacefully sleeping in his bed alone. Covers to his chin, curled up on his side. That is until his beautiful two year old daughter comes barging in there to wake her daddy up. He shouldn't be asleep she thinks. It's too late. In reality its only 7 am on a Saturday, but to an early riser like her, he should be awake and playing with her. Or making her breakfast.

Her little feet pad over to her daddy's side of the bed. She can barley reach him due to the height of his bed, but manages to stretch her little arms up and taps on Harrys face. "Daddy, wake up." she speaks in her little British accent. Harry slowly opens his eyes and immediately squeezes them shut because of the sunlight coming from the window blinding him. "Daddy!!" his daughter says a little louder.

If his daughter was any older, Harry might tell her to wait a few minutes or go back to bed because it's too early, but he knows she's only 2. So he forces his eyes open again and reaches down to hook his hands in her tiny arm pits to lift her on the bed. "Why are you awake so early babe." he asks in a gravely voice, while placing her on his bare chest.

"I hungry." her tiny voice replies.

"Mhmm what would you like?" Harry mumbles sleepily.

"Sweets." she says innocently.

"I don't think so love. We don't eat sweets for breakfast. It will give you a tummy ache. What about a healthy fruit salad. We have some Watermelon and Strawberries in the fridge." he replies to his daughter who's straddling his chest.

"NO, I WANT SWEETS! I WANT SWEETS!" she yells back with angry tears threatening to escape.

"D/n, we do not yell!" her father speaks firmly. "We can't have sweets but we can have something other than a fruit salad if you want. Lets go down and see what we have." With a tight grip on his upset daughter, Harry gets out of bed and makes his way down the spiral staircase and into the kitchen.

This wasn't something new to him. Ever since his daughter turned 2 in August, she's been acting up a lot more than previously. You could say it was the terrible twos everyone talks about. Harry tries his hardest to teach her the proper ways to behave but it's been proven to be a lot more difficult than anticipated. Especially hard when he's busy all the time and isn't with her 24/7 like stay-at-home mums are or stay-at-home dads were. He's a musician. Not a so called musician that gets excited to book a Friday night at the local pub. No, Harry is a international pop star.

When he ended up getting a one-night stand pregnant, he told them they could do what they wanted as far keeping the baby or not. Harry has always been one to agree that its a women's choice. But his one-night stand wanted to have the baby. Honestly, you'd think Harry would get angry that she decided to keep it, but he wasn't. Maybe it wasn't the ideal situation to have a baby from a one-night stand that he had on tour, but he being the loving Harry everyone seems to know and love, of course tried to look at it as a positive thing. But when his daughter was born, his one-night stand got her minute of fame by saying she had Harry Styles baby and left. Abandoned her own blood. Harry had to get full custody of his daughter and ever since then she's been living with her daddy.

It was really hard the first few months of her life. A baby needs their mothers comfort and warmth and she had none of that. She never got the opportunity to breast feed or feel the love of her mother, and Harry feels sick just thinking about it. So Harry put his career on hold for a few months to take care of his daughter and show her that someone cares for her. He never wanted her to feel unloved. It was his biggest fear. That's why every day since the day she was born, he tells her how much he loves her. Shows her how much he loves her.

He did all her nightly feedings with warmed up formula in bottles. He changed her diapers at all hours of the day. He gave her baths every day to make sure she smelled nice and clean. And when she turned 1 years old and was getting more active, he took her to the studio with him and let her play her toys.

Just because Harry is a single parent doesn't mean he doesn't have help or support. He has a lot of help when it comes to taking care of his daughter. His sister Gemma babysits all the time for him when he's got something very important to do at the studio where he'd prefer if his daughter wasn't there. Harry's mum watches his daughter frequently when he has a interview he needs to attend. Even some of Harry's friends watch or take care of her when needed. Especially some of his ex bandmates that have kids of their own now. Harry's daughter has playdates with Bear, Liam's son about once a month. They're about the same age and their dads are friends so it works out great. His daughter has even played with Freddie, Louis's son. Not as much because Freddie lives in America but when he comes to England to spend time with his father they hang out. Freddie and Harry's daughter are quite similar. They were both created due to a one-night stand. The only difference is Freddie's mum wanted him. Didn't abandon him. So he has a relationship with both parents. Needless to say, besides all the things a mother can give to their child, his daughter has a good life. People love her, and once again that's all Harry could ask for. People and himself to love his daughter.

After fighting with his daughter about what to eat for breakfast, she finally settles for some Strawberry pancakes as long as they have chocolate syrup on top. Harry gives in and allows a little chocolate for her to have with breakfast. She sits in her high chair munching on the pancakes while Harry cleans the mess from cooking. Like washing the pan and wiping the stove off. When he's finished cleaning, he notices his daughter has stopped eating and is just making a mess with her food at this point.

Walking up to her high chair, Harry bends down and lifts her sticky body up and says, "Alright, time to give you a bath little one."

"No bath daddy! Me no want a bath!" she yells and attempts to kick her fathers legs but Harry grabs ahold of them in his big hand and stops her movements which makes her small body more angry. She screams very loud in his ear and pounds her baby fist in his shoulders, expressing her anger. Harry really wants to get upset. But what he's read in parenting books is that if you ignore their behavior and act like you don't see their tantrums, it will make it better and they'll give up on trying so hard to show their anger. Because most toddlers have tantrums to try and get attention from their parent(s). By ignoring it, you're not feeding into it.

"I'm sorry but you have chocolate all over you love. Need to get you clean because I need to take you to the studio for a few hours with me today. How does that sound?" trying to make bath time and going to the studio sound fun.

After fighting with Darcy to get in the bath, Harry finally got her in the tub. He struggled to wash her curly hair due to the fact she wouldn't sit still, even after he gave her a rubber ducky to play with. Once he's washed her hair and chocolate covered body, Harry picks her up and wraps her in a big fluffy towel, then takes her to her room to get changed. He manages to get a pull up on her, (still trying to potty train), and puts a lovely red track suit on her with some Gucci shoes. Then he carries her in front of the bathroom mirror to brush her hair.

"Be good for daddy and let me brush your hair." Harry tells his daughter in a gentle manner.

As soon as he passes the brush in her hair, his daughter screams, "Owww, it hurts daddy!"

10 minutes later, Harry has brushed her locks and put her hair into some cute pigtails. With his 2 year old crying in the process. He's pretty good at doing hair because he used to have longer hair himself. Then he picks her up off the counter and places her on the ground, walking her to his bedroom.

"Can you lay in my bed while I get ready? I'll put on your favorite show." he questions calmly.

"Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig!" is daughter chants.

"Alright, alright." He picks up his baby girl and sets her in the middle of his bed. Then he grabs the remote to turn his wall mounted tv on. He scrolls on Netflix and finds Peppa Pig to keep her occupied. Then goes to his bathroom to get dressed and ready to head to the studio.

When he exits his bathroom fully dressed and ready to leave, he finds a sleeping toddler on his bed, snuggled into his pillow. Her perfectly outlined lips slightly parted. Harry can't help but smile. He loves his baby girl with his entirety and seeing her peaceful like this makes him so happy. He turns the tv off and carefully picks her up into his arms and heads down the stairs to his car in the garage. But not before stopping by her room to pick up her mini backpack that holds extra pullups and a sippy cup full of juice, with some of her toys as well. Her tiny face is stuffed into her daddy's neck and Harry can feel light puffs of air hitting his skin. He puts his daughter in her car seat and buckles her up properly. Then gets in himself to drive to the studio.

About 5 minutes away from the studio, Darcy wakes up from her late morning nap and whines out, "Me wanna go home and play with you!"

"I'm sorry but I have to work for a little bit. I'll play with you when we get home later. How does that sound Hmm?" She was not satisfied with her fathers answer and starts wailing. Hot salty tears run down her little cheeks and she makes exaggerated sounds to emphasize her crying. She kicks at the seat in front of her and balls her fist up as if she's going to hit something but unfortunately to her, she can't reach a single thing due to her seat belt. Once again, Harry just ignores her cries of anger and turns the radio on loud to block it out.

By the time they arrive at the studio, Harry's daughter has calmed down. She's still upset but at least she isn't crying and that's progress in Harry's eyes. He parks his car in a secluded area to hide from potential paparazzi and unbuckles her. Then shields her face form potential cameras and make their way into the music studio. Harry has to record some audio for his newest album so that's why he needed to come in today. They enter the studio where the rest of his solo band is. He prefers to record the instruments live instead of manufactured drums and guitars.

At some point when he was getting ready in his home bathroom, Harry had called his assistant and told her he needed to bring his daughter in to the studio with him so she could watch her while he's busy. She agreed but being Harry Styles assistant, it wasn't really an option. Not that Harry would force her but she's an assistant for a reason. To do jobs Harry assigns her. In this case babysit his toddler while he records a song. He doesn't have anyone else today and unfortunately can't leave her at home with a mummy like many other fathers can. He's just happy his job allows his daughter to be somewhat a part of it. Not in the spotlight because he keeps his daughters identity a secret from the public for her protection, but as far as her going to the studio with him or when she gets older, she can come on tour with him.

Harry's assistant takes his toddler and her mini backpack full of her essentials. They hang out in the open area, out of the way from his band and he himself so he can get what he needs to get done so they can wrap everything up for the album. Harry's daughter actually loves his assistant. They have grown quite close over the 2 years of her life. But because she's going through her terrible twos, the toddler didn't want to behave for anyone today.

About an hour into Harry's work, he's interrupted with a frantic assistant that has a screaming toddler in her arms. "I'm sorry Harry but she's been crying for about 30 minutes and I've done everything I know to do to get her to calm down." Harry isn't upset his assistant came to him for help with his baby. That's not the type of guy he is.

Harry takes off his headphones and walks over to them. He picks his little girl up into his tattooed arms and questions, "Love, why are you upset for? If you keep crying, you'll end up with a tummy ache."

She just hugs around her fathers neck with her little arms and says, "Want you daddy." Those words almost breaks his heart. Harry doesn't know where this sudden want for him has came from.

"You can have me all you want when I'm finished working, alright. I'll be done shortly." He struggles to pass her back over to his assistant, but finally manages. "Maybe she's hungry. I'll give you a few pounds to take her through drive thru at McDonalds. Would you like McDonalds d/n?" She just nods her pigtailed head. He would suggest for them to go inside, but the public knows what his assistant looks like so they'd know that was his daughter. The daughter that has her identity secret for now. His assistant takes the toddler to the McDonalds drive thru and orders her some chicken nuggets. Even through Harrys pescatarian, he still allows his daughter to eat meats. Then Harry goes back to work in the studio.

Around 2 in the afternoon, Harry and the two year old make it back home. The rest of the evening was a little hectic with a few tantrums here and there. Harry cooked them a nice meal for dinner at about 6 and played dolls with her in the short period of time she wasn't upset. Then comes the dreaded bedtime.

Harry changes her into some pjs and helps her brush her teeth. Then when he went to put her in bed, she started crying for the 100th time today. "Me sleep with you daddy." she cries out. There's a part of him that wants to say yes and cave in, but the parent part of him is saying no. She needs to learn to be a big girl. Harry really doesn't understand why she wants to sleep with him all the sudden. She normally has no problem sleeping by herself.

"No baby. You need to be a big girl and sleep in your bed sweetheart. I'm right next door if you need me though okay." His daughter clings to his body and cries fat tears. Harry decides to stay in her room until she falls asleep. So that's what he does. When she subsumes to sleep, he lays her down in her bed and pulls the covers up over her frail body. Then exits her room quietly.

Harry changes into some comfier clothes himself and goes down stairs to get himself a glass of wine. Then he sits on the sofa and turns a series on to watch before bed. Times like now is when he wishes he had a wife. He'd even take a girlfriend. Just someone to hold him late at night and cuddle with him. Even have some type of intimacy. Ever since he found out about his daughter, Harrys game of sleeping around stopped. He didn't want to keep sleeping with random girls when he was becoming a dad. He was raised better than that. So needless to say he was lonely. In every way possible. Mentally, and physically.

Whilst in the middle of the show he's watching, Harry is brought back to reality when he hears a blood-curdling scream from up the stairs. He rushes to set his wine down on the coffee table and runs to his daughters room. When he walks in there, his heart sinks. The toddler is crying so hard she's gasping for air. It's a different cry that he's seen through-out the day. Unlike her terrible twos tantrums, this cry sounds like she's scared. Harry runs to her and picks her up. "Hey what's wrong my love? Tell daddy what's wrong." he asks of his child, soothing her to his chest.

As her tears slow down in the comfort of her daddy's arms, she mumbles, "You left me." Once again Harrys confused because she never acts like this.

Harry walks out her bedroom and goes to sit with her on the sofa downstairs. Then he turns her around on his lap to look at her face more clearly. "Baby, you need to tell daddy why you got scared or why you want me all the sudden."

The little 2 year old takes a deep breath and speaks in her little accent, "On Peppa Pig, they...they said kids like me are supposed to have a mummy AND a daddy. They said daddies can't love their babies like mummy's can. Me was scared you don't love me anymore." Her voice cracked saying the last bit with fresh tears running down her face and Harry has glossy eyes looking down at his distressed but beautiful mini twin. That's right. They look almost exactly alike. He thanks God every day for that because he doesn't want to look at his daughter and be reminded of a one-night stand that's a piece of shit of a mother.

"Look at me d/n. I love you so so so much. I will NEVER stop loving you." at this point he has to take a deep breath so compose his emotions, "And not all kids have mummies. There are a lot of kids who just have a daddy or some just have a mummy. But it doesn't mean I love you any less. Okay?! Don't listen to what they said in Peppa Pig. They were wrong." Finishing his speech, Harry pulls her tiny body forward and hugs her to his warm chest. He has silent tears running down his face. Both hands spread over her boney back. He thinks tonight is appropriate enough to allow her to sleep with him. She needs comfort. "Would you still like to sleep with me?" he asks in a whisper.

"Pleaseee." she responds while crying. Harry stands form the couch, turning the television off and abandoning his barley touched wine glass, and goes to his bedroom. The turns the overhead light off and walks over to the bed. Peeling the covers back, Harry and his daughter, whose on his chest, slide under the warm blankets together. Now she has just about stopped crying. Just little whimpers leaving her body, along with a few hiccups. Harry reaches over to turn the lamp off, leaving the room completely dark. He shushes his baby until her eyes slowly close and she falls asleep with her face burred in his neck and arms around his neck. Her short legs lay limp over his stomach.

Harry has a difficult time falling asleep that night. He feels sorry for his baby girl because he worries that movies and shows with two parents will make her sad and left out because she doesn't have a mummy. He just prays she will see all she'll ever need is her daddy to protect her and love her for the rest of eternity.

MASTERLIST & My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

#fluff #harrystyles #harrystylesoneshot #dad!harry #dad harry #dadharry #dadharrystyles #harry #styles #singleparent #harrystylessingleparent #comfort #terribletwos #ddm #daddydaughtermoments

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

Note

Miss you and your marvelous writing!!!! Just a prompt if you’re up to it 😊 exes wolfstar staying friends but sirius gets into a new relationship and he brings his new boo to somewhere he took remus and remus gets sad 😭 but they get back together eventually

Notes: OMFG BABEY! this is so SO beyond precious of you! i adore you to bits! thank you for the sweetness and for this scrumptious angst🥺🥺 i really hope you like it😭😘😘💜

SEND ME A PROMPT | A Reblog means SO SO much! I ADORE YOU💜💜

“He can just be so… So” James pauses right then, takes off his cap with the hand that’s still clutching his baseball bat, and ruffles his hair with the other.

“Un-opinionated,” Remus offers half heartedly as they turn the block to the small coffee shop nearest school, both of them freshly showered after the required morning workouts for Tuesday and Thursdays. It’s the first semester in which Remus has actually joined in on the seven minute track, considering the fact that even despite their crazy contradictory schedules with all the sports and extra curriculars they each had, Sirius always made it a point to buy their ice coffees and drop it off to Remus, sometimes leaving them a quarter of an hour late for first period, or as just a quick drop and dash if one of them had an exam.

It was sweet, considerate. It was Sirius showing how much he cared because he’s never been one for words, even if he would frequently print off the little texts Remus would send him about how Sirius made him feel, and hang it up on the wall besides his bed, along with photos of them and Remus by himself and a few of their other friends too.

But yeah… None of that is really a thing anymore, not the coffees or the texts or the promises of being one another’s always. Not after calling it quits in early January because they knew by August they’d be working with thousands of miles between them and a three hour difference on top of that. It just wouldn’t have been feasible in the long run, and sure— Remus was the one to broach the topic and he knows that Sirius was hesitant about the logical side of it, but sometimes Remus wishes Sirius had fought harder, had argued louder, had wanted Remus more. But that’s a ridiculous expectation, and he had only admitted as much to Lily. And at the end of the day, it was the right choice, because it’s only early May now, and Remus can’t imagine how sick he’ll feel once catching his flight to Berkeley, and they’re steadfastly back in the best friends category of things. He can’t fathom how it would’ve been if they spent all these months and the ones after being together in all those intimate ways, knowing that they’ll be so far apart soon enough.

It was the right decision for the both of them and their friendship.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that,” James says, bringing Remus out of his gloomy contemplations while opening the glass door to Three Broomsticks, sporting a thin smile that he always has on when he’s trying to be kind even when he’s irritated as all get out.

Remus snorts at him, elbow checking his side as he walks past. “Well he’s sharing that dorm with you and Sirius in New Haven, so I guess you’ve got that to look forwards to.”

James’s face pulls into a grimace and their typical barista nods their way, already receiving their orders through the app and sparing them having to wait in the queue. “Maybe Pete’ll grow his own personality in university, yeah?”

“Sure Prongsie,” Remus says, noncommittal as he checks his phone and lies against the windowpane, already exhausted by the morning. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure Sirius is about to blow his lid any day now.”

“It’s going to be funny as fuck, and you won’t even be there to see the debris,” James counters, sounding pleasant enough even though Remus knows that he’s nearly as pissed off as Sirius is about the decision for him to go back to his home state for undergrad.

“You’ll send pictures though.”

“Of course Moony my old friend,” James jokes, tossing him a wink as they straighten once spotting their coffees being rung up. But as Remus takes a step forwards, he notices that a familiarly tan pair of hands are reaching for them, and when Remus looks up he feels like an idiot for not noticing him sooner. Because there Sirius is, dashing as ever in their school’s maroon blazer and tan pants, and his hair is windblown and shining as it falls midway of the nape of his neck. But Remus doesn’t really have the chance to appreciate just how damn good looking his ex-boyfriend is, rather, he’s more distracted by how Sirius doesn’t even notice him or James as he pivots around and hands over the second cup to a beaming Gideon Prewett. Their heads incline while they exchange a few words that are absolutely impossible to pick up in the crowded cafe before they bump their shoulders together and walk out the opposite door.

And it feels like nothing else watching that exchange— like their was a hammer and pick chipping away at his stupid, weeping heart.

“I think they’re just doing a project together,” James says lowly in Remus’s ear, clapping him on the back in reassurance, and Remus loves him, but he’s not in the mood for false platitudes, feels like there is a ugly, burning fire festering deep in his stomach and making Remus want to hurl all over the wooden floors.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replies instead, mild as he discretely picks up his phone again and opens up to the last conversation he had this morning.

R: need intel

L: Say more sexy things to me, lover

R: sirius and Gideon

R: what’s going on there

L: I’ll take a look, dw

Buoyed by Lily’s scary levels of detective skills, Remus returns his phone to his satchel and signals James to follow him to pick up their actual drinks. “C’mon, Flitwick hates it when we’re late.”

“Do you want the good news first, or the bad.” Lily asks Remus later that morning during their shared free period, dropping her bag on the tabletop that they typically commandeer towards the back of Hogwarts’s library, nearest the windows and tucked away by the shelves.

“Is there actually any good news? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better.” Remus asks, single brow cocked as he shuts his history book and tosses it to the side.

“Well your hair looks especially nice today,” she offers with a small smile, sitting besides him and ruffling his curls.

“Thanks, I suppose. But I’d rather just get to it. And don’t sigh at me like that! All long suffering and all.”

Rolling her eyes, Lily gathers her hair into a high pony before turning to Remus fully. “You’re my best friend, I love you more than just about anyone. You know that, right?” Lily asks him, stiff stance relaxing when he nods in turn. “Then understand that I’m saying this from a place of love, but you don’t get to be mad at him, okay. You’re the one who called it off Re, you’re the one who wanted you guys to go back to being friends to avoid that messiness in August. And you know I respect the decision, but also it wasn’t the only one to be had. I mean look at James and I—“

“You’re going to Columbia Lils,” Remus bristles, hates how defensive he’s getting all of a sudden. “That train ride is like two hours and some change at the very most. It’s not the same.”

“You guys could’ve made it work,” she insists, green eyes blazing in the dim light. “He’s crazy about you, and you’re in love with him— Like ass backwards in love. You can’t just cut that off like it’s nothing, damn it, Remus.”

He can feel his own ears reddening and Remus hates it, hates how today had started off so innocuous and now it’s an absolute shit show. Remus hates that Lily is always correct about everything, and hates how Sirius probably is regretting telling Remus he still fully intends to ask him out to prom, and hates how much he loves him— how whenever he looks at Sirius it’s just a deluge of wanting and adoring and regretting and needing to feel his lips against Sirius’s own again like a drug, how he’ll never forget how he tasted like coffee beans and cigarette smoke and the strawberries he ate every morning besides his breakfast. Remus hates it all and he can’t figure out how not to feel like suddenly everything is slipping out of his hands like sand drifting through his fingers.

“He’s probably not that crazy over me anymore considering he’s getting Gideon Prewett coffees now, so maybe it’s the right decision after all.” Is what Remus decides to tell Lily instead of that whirlwind of clashing feelings.

“Oh Christ,” Lily huffs, dropping her head back like she’s asking for strength from the heavens above. “Look, Dorcas tells me that they’ve only been out twice. And Marlene says that it’s nothing intense. Just a movie and then he went to go watch his nephew’s little league game.”

“Oh,” Remus intones, because, no. No he will not start crying like this is some fucking Nicholas Sparks novel, and he’s the wayward lead making all the worst decisions. He’s not going to cry damn it!

He is not a bird, and this is suppose to be happening, and none of this has any real consequence at the end of the day. He and Sirius broke up, and Sirius can go out with whoever he pleases— even if it’s good looking, ginger athletes.

Remus is fine.

“Remus,” Lily gently consoles, lacing her fingers into his own that’s resting on his lap, and squeezing for good measure. “Benjy told Mary, who told me during Calc that Gideon doesn’t expect anything. Sirius told him he’s not looking for anything long term.”

“That’s dumb,” Remus retorts, trying to hold everything in so that Lily doesn’t give him that concerned, doe eyed face of hers, like when he’s spent a week living off of protein bars and double shot espressos preparing for finals. “Gideon’s great, and there on the soccer team together, they would be perfect.”

“Remus, stop.”

“And he’s going to Dartmouth, so he’ll be super close for like weekend excursions and all of that.”

“Remus!”

“The more I think about it, Lils, the more it makes sense. They just fit.”

“Sure, those are all nice attributes,” Lily says, peering up at him disappointedly. “But he’s not you.”

Like a legion of angels singing in the distance, the bell begins to shrill for next period and Remus is spared from giving that statement any mind.

He spends the rest of the week acting as if he hadn’t even seen Sirius that morning whenever around him, and internally analyzing each and every exchange between them, and comparing to them to when he sees Sirius chatting with Gideon. And it’s not fun to say the least. It’s like a flashback to when he was trying to hide his crush on Sirius back in Freshman and most of sophomore year, but somehow worse. It’s worse because Remus had him, had Sirius in all the ways someone could ever want an other. He had Sirius’s languid morning kisses, and Sirius’s bark like laughter. Remus had Sirius being nervous the first time Lyall came for his typical Christmas visit, and Sirius had to try and impress him along with Remus’s mom as more than just the friend he hung around with at school. Remus had Sirius’s gruff voice when they were in bed and getting tangled into one another, and Sirius’s dopey looks in the middle of class when he’d be gazing over at Remus instead of the board. And if Remus is being honest, he knows he still has all those things, but it’s suddenly and searingly clear that some time— sooner rather than later— they’ll all leave, abruptly disappearing and shattering Remus’s world in their wake. Because eventually all of those different facets of Sirius’s won’t be Remus’s anymore— they’ll be Gideon’s or some other boy he meets in New Haven. And Remus can’t even be upset at it, he doesn’t have a claim to any of Sirius anymore, doesn’t get to call any part of him his.

And it’s probably the worst Remus has felt since that first night after their break up, because he’s eating every moment he has with Sirius like he’s famished and Sirius is the last meal he’ll ever know. He wants to memorize every part of him before he can’t have any of it. He wants to unravel every layer of Sirius, and kiss it for the final time, and it’s like saying goodbye a thousand times over, strangling his heart and splintering something desperate deep inside of him.

Like now.

It’s edging on midnight, and they drove up to the lake front near their suburb, with Sirius lying with his head on Remus’s lap and his long, muscled body lying against the tattered blanket beneath them. And his eyes are fluttered shut while the speaker they brought croons out the indie playlist they like most from Spotify.

And Remus can’t help but feel like this is one of their last nights like this, alone and quiet and together without any other specter of some other partner. So he watches him, watches the moonlight pacing over his nose and the high bones of his cheeks and across Sirius’s eyelids too. Remus watches his ink like lashes kissing his skin, and wants to touch the divot of his cupids bow like so many times before while his other hand cards through Sirius’s hair.

And Remus lets himself want Sirius and wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting, craving, loving him.

“I can hear you thinking Moons,” Sirius says, fluttering his eyes open and crunching up before Remus can even respond. “What’s going on?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I’m fine.” Remus all but sputters, folding his knees against his chest and wrapping his arms around them, feeling somehow vulnerable in blistering ways. “Nothing is going on.”

“Pff,” Sirius gives him a pointed look, settles down so that they’re side by side and tries to get Remus to look at him head on. “You’ve been strange all week, Moony.”

“That’s not—“

“And then tonight, you didn’t even tease your ma when she was telling us about that patient who puked all over her shoes.”

“Just tired is all.”

“But had enough energy to smoke half the joint I brought.” Sirius says with a snort, looking frustrated again when Remus didn’t even flinch a smile at the counter. “Remus, talk to me.”

“It’s fine Sirius,” Remus sighs, suddenly remembers how exhausting all their arguments were in the past. How Sirius tries getting him to speak everything in his mind, as if Remus could even put them into words.

“Okay, then tell me why you rejected my offer to go to that Frank Ocean concert. You’re obsessed with him.”

“’S in July,” Remus reminds him lightly, focusses on the way they can see the North star glimmering against the horizon instead.

“And, so?” Sirius asks, sounding more than a bit scathing. “You’re not leaving for another month after that, you trying to cut me off completely by the summer or something?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Don’t be condescending.”

“Sirius, just leave well enough alone. Holy shit.”

“I can leave it alone if you can actually tell me what the fuck is going on with you,” Sirius snaps, standing up now, probably because he always likes using his height advantage on most people whenever he gets all pissy.

“You can be such a prick sometimes, you know that?” Remus snarls at him, following suit and dipping his head back just slightly so that they’re eye to eye. “Not everything is on your schedule, you know that.”

“My schedule!” Sirius’s brows jump to his hairline, and he breaks into that manic laughter that springs up only when he’s so angry he can’t put his thoughts together. “I’m trying to do as much shit with you as possible before you leave, because for some stupid fucking reason I’m going to miss you when your across the fucking country! But yeah, whatever. If you’re actually just sick of me and my presence or what the fuck else, you can just—“

“I would’ve assumed you wanted to go with Gideon,” Remus blurts out, simply unable to hold it back any more, unable to pretend like he’s not suffering a thousand fresh paper cuts every time he even glances Sirius’s way these days. He can’t do this, can’t pretend to just be friends when they were— when they are— so much more than that. “To the concert I mean. I just assumed—“

“No,” Sirius says, seething as he storms up to Remus— close enough that the tips of their noses brush up against each other.

“No? Excuse me?”

“No Remus you don’t get to do this!” Sirius repeats, voice going frayed at the edges as their glances level. “You don’t get to pretend as if I want anyone more than I want— than I’ve always wanted you. And you don’t get to float around for the rest of your life pretending as if this’ll ever change for me. As if you can’t hit me up in fifteen years when I’m married with kids, and ask to get back together, and think that I wouldn’t drop it all for you.”

Remus’s heart begins to thud, loud and painful against his ribcage, and his lungs feel like they might collapse the instant Remus let’s the tears swimming in his eyes sprinkle out. “Sirius, I ca—“

“I’ve been in love with you since before we were suppose to mean what that meant, damn it, Remus! And you’re the one who called it off!”

“It was the right decision.” Remus croaks out, plunging his hands into his hoodie’s pockets, doesn’t want Sirius to see the way they’re shaking.

“”For you. The right decision for you.” Sirius presses, his gray eyes dark underneath the stars. “And you know I’d do anything you wanted of me, but you don’t get to be mad at the ways I cope. And you sure as fuck don’t get to be jealous of fucking Gideon Prewett, as if he can hold a match to you.”

“Oh.” Is all Remus can gather to say, peering back down at his shoes and pressing together his lips, feels the most lost he ever has while around Sirius. “I love you too, you know that. You know I love you so much that it hurts sometimes— That was never the problem.”

Sirius makes a strangled sound deep in his throat, and the next second, Remus can’t feel the warmth of his body besides him because Sirius is darting over to the cusp of the lake and kicking at a rock. “Fuck, Remus. You can’t just say that, all right! You can’t because none of this is fair, or okay. And I fucking hate it and I hate this and—“

“Maybe we can try,” Remus says, quiet but unshaken. And he watches as Sirius slowly turns back around, face scrunched up in utter confusion, but eyes glittering with something like hope. “I love you Sirius, and you love me. And Lily’s right, fucking hell she’s so right. I can’t just turn it off, okay. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t be around you and not want every part of you. But I also can’t let myself stay away from you. So let’s try, and it’s probably a stupid difficult decision, and we’re going to be frustrated and we’re going to miss one another but I know there’s going to be no one I want more and I think you migh— Oof.”

Remus can’t continue rattling off any of the reasons why they should get back together, because Sirius is somehow magically popping up in front of him— his large hands cupping against Remus’s jawline and his thin lips crashing against him, and Remus can only wrap his arms around Sirius’s torso and give him back all he’s pushing forwards.

And it might’ve been a minute or an hour that past, but Sirius is pulling back with a face that looks lighter in ways Remus hasn’t seen on him since the breakup all those months ago. “I’d literally agree to anything if it means we can stay together, Moony. Absolutely anything.”

Remus feels the strain against the apples of his cheeks as he beams at him at the sound of the oath. “Yeah, me too Padfoot. Always and forever, it’s you.”

My Other Wolfstar FIC💜

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR ANGST #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #SPILT INK #I AM A MESS #I HATE ME LMFAO

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