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gimmethatagustd · 4 months

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gang shit | knj

Your daughter's classmate has a really hot dad. Apparently, you're his arch-nemesis.

○ Pairing: Dilf!Namjoon x Single Parent!Reader

○ Rating: Sfw

○ Genre: Kidfic, strangers/romantic interest, an attempt at humor

○ 1 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Single Parent)

○ Word Count: 1204

○ Warnings: Shockingly none!! aside from my terrible sense of humor, jokes about Crime!!, and also Namjoon's dimples

○ Notes: Inspired by this tweet. I hope you enjoy the first drabble of my 100 Drabble Challenge I'm doing with @sailoryooons - Please check out Hali's drabbles throughout 2024, too! Happy New Year, besties! ✨

○ Post Date: January 1, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? GOAT - Number_i

“I don’t make the rules to this gang shit. I just play my role.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you cock your head to the side in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Namjoon adjusts his black baseball cap. His bicep bulges out of his short sleeve when he lifts his arm.

You’re too old to be thirsting for a man like this. In all honesty, you’ve been acting childish all day – literally. It’s the last day of school before summer break, and your daughter’s preschool teacher invited parents to an end-of-the-year celebration. Having the privilege of working a hybrid schedule means it’s relatively easy for you to swing by the school with primary-colored cupcakes in hand. They’re the disgusting ones kids love that’ll stain their fingers and mouths bright blue. Oh, to be a four-year-old. So easy to please.

Unlike little Yuna’s father, who has a stick shoved up his ass, and for what?

“What are you even talking about?” you ask with your arms crossed against your chest.

You’d said literally five words to the guy, intending to start a pleasant conversation while the kids ran around the playground and the other parents mingled at the picnic tables outside.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Brooklyn’s parent.”

Apparently, that was offensive.

Namjoon’s sharp eyes drag up and down your body, and you try not to let his heavy gaze affect you – and fail when you feel your stomach dip.

“Brooklyn said Yuna dresses weird,” Namjoon finally says with a pout that shouldn’t look so cute on a grown-ass man.

“Did she?”

“Are you calling Yuna a liar?”

“No!” This man is so volatile. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. We’ve been practicing using kind words, but, well, you know how kids are…”

Namjoon doesn’t look convinced.

You feel antsy under his gaze, unsure what to say or do. Are you supposed to apologize? Maybe that’s the mature thing to do. You’re still new to this whole “I’m suddenly responsible for an entire human being even though I barely even know how to take care of myself” thing. It’s a little bit unbelievable, actually!

“I’m sorry for Brooklyn’s judgmental behavior. What kind of weird-, what kind of clothes-” you stumble through what you already know is a shit apology, “Which one is Yuna?”

“That’s her.” Namjoon nods in Yuna’s direction.

You look across the playground to the swing set, where a little girl is lying on the swing on her stomach and spinning around with her arms and legs hanging limp. She’s wearing her hair in asymmetrical pigtails, one higher on her head than the other. Her sneakers are mismatched, as are her colorful knee-high socks. Her pants are polka-dotted, her shirt striped, and she’s got a bright purple cape tied around her neck.

“She’s adorable,” you say softly.

“She’s weird as shit.”

Your mouth hangs open when Namjoon shrugs.

“What? She’s my kid; I’m allowed to say that.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a smile, “So, we got beef now?”

“Yup.”

Namjoon crosses his arms against his chest to match your stance. You tell yourself it’s very inappropriate to be eyeing your new enemy’s boobs when you’re in the middle of a showdown.

“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think I’m down for going to war for Brooklyn. Usually, I just like to blame her bad behavior on her dad,” you say with a barking laugh. You cover your mouth with your hand when you snort. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“You’re good,” Namjoon finally cracks a smile, and, wow, it’s breathtaking. His eyes crinkle at the corners, his teeth are big and bright, and he has dimples… “Yuna’s mother doesn’t let her dress how she likes, so when I have her, I let her do what she wants. Self-expression is important, y’know?”

You nod because he’s right. Kids should be kids.

“Plus, I like being the fun parent.”

“Right! Who wants the parent with all the stupid rules?” You perk up, taking a step closer because now you’re partners in crime rather than enemies. Maybe. You’ll work on it. He’s too cute not to get up to some parental crime with—gang members, not rivals.

“Not cool parents like us,” Namjoon lightly elbows you.

“Yeah, they can’t ride with our gang.”

Namjoon makes a face the moment the words come out of your mouth. He bites both lips, rolling them in and hollowing his cheeks, eyebrows raised.

“What? What!” you gasp, knowing when you’re being made fun of, even if it’s in silence.

“Don’t ever say anything like that ever again.”

With a huff, you give him a tiny punch to the arm and tell yourself that it isn’t because you want to feel how tight his muscles are.

“You’re the one who–”

“HEY! NO HITTING!”

Groaning, you throw your head back as a tiny blur of pink collides with your body. Brooklyn tugs on the hem of your shirt, repeatedly chanting, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” until you crouch to meet her at her level. Taking her little hands in yours, you hold them to your lips to give her knuckles a quick peck.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that to Mr. Kim,” you admit, “I should apologize, shouldn’t I?”

Brooklyn nods, and the bulbous beaded hair ties at the end of her pigtail braids swing like a deadly game of tetherball.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” you say as you look up at Namjoon. He taps his finger against his chin in mock thought, and you can’t help but think that you’ll actually punch him if he fucks up this teaching moment by pretending not to accept your apology.

“I forgive you,” he says with another grin that makes you feel like a silly teenager.

“Y’know, Brooklyn, Mr. Kim told me something about you and Yuna…” Brooklyn immediately ducks her chin to her chest. No one has ever looked guiltier. “It’s not very nice to talk about how people look, love. I think you should apologize to Yuna, don’t you agree?”

It takes very little convincing for Brooklyn to run off toward the swings. She flops on her stomach in the swing beside Yuna, and then, after a bit of talking, both girls spin around.

“If Brooklyn throws up from doing that, it’s your fault,” you mutter to Namjoon.

“Real aggressive coming from someone who just physically attacked me.”

“Okay, Mr. Gang Shit,” you quip back, catching Namjoon’s widening grin out of the corner of your eye.

“Listen,” Namjoon touches your elbow, his fingers lingering just long enough for you to give him your attention. Heat spreads along your forearm and makes your fingers tingle. “I don’t really accept either of your apologies. You might need to try a little harder to get me to forgive you.”

“Oh.” You feel your stomach twist.

“Might want to start with getting dinner with me, and then we can see where it goes?”

Oh.

“I mean, if you think it wouldn’t hurt my street cred being seen with the likes of you, then, yeah.”

Namjoon grabs his baseball cap bill and pulls it down until his hat covers his face. “Don’t make me rescind this offer because I’ll do it.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see how it goes.”

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#bts x reader #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #gang shit #100 drabble challenge

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alastor-simp · 3 months

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"Ticklish, My Dear?" - Alastor x Reader Oneshot

"Knock-knock, my dear!" Alastor was waiting for you to open you bedroom door. He sought you out to help calm himself down after dealing with Angel's raunchy flirts. He nearly destroyed the lobby with his tentacles, but thankfully Charlie was able to stop him before he went to far and nearly send Angel to double hell. "Its open Al!", you yelled out from the other side of the door. Entering inside, Alastor saw you next to your bed, holding up a black dress, along with other clothes laying on the bed. Smiling wider, he made his way over to you: "Salutations, my dear! What are you doing on this fine evening?" Smiling back, you held the dress closer to your body and faced the mirror: "Nothing much. Niffty happened to have gone shopping and she got me some cute clothes, so I wanted to try them on, but I don't know which one to try first." Alastor continued to stare at you as you stayed facing the mirror, then he turned his attention to the dress in your hands and the others on the bed. The dresses on your bed was a short gothic black dress with long lace sleeves, a blue and white polka dot front dress with a bow, and a short red cocktail dress with a black lace front. (Dress images are below)

His eyes were drawn more to the cocktail dress, so he grabbed that one and approached you. Turning around, you saw Alastor holding up one of the dresses: "Try on this one, my dear!" Thanking Al, you grabbed the red dress and headed towards the bathroom to put it on.

As Al watched you leave to the bathroom, he stood with his hands behind his back and looked over your room. Eyeing the wall, he saw the photos that you had taken of him and the others. Some were of Charlie and Vaggie being an adorable couple, some were of Husk and Angel passed out together, and the others were all group photos. Alastor smiled at the photo you had taken of him. He was inside his radio tower, leaning back against the chair, smiling as he gave his broadcast. The both of you had become the best of friends when he first arrived at the hotel to offer Charlie his services. The both of you bonded over your love for music and also had a love for pranking people, which came in handy when you both wanted to annoy Angel. Lost in thought, Alastor's ears jolted when he heard you call his name. Turning around, his eyes grew wide as he saw you walk out wearing the beautiful dress. Smiling shyly, you had tried on the dress, but you were not able to reach the zipper, so you asked if Al would be able to help you. “Of course, my dear! Allow me!", he said as told you to face the window to give him better access to the zipper.

*Zipppp*, Alastor had succeeded in zipping up your dress, and placed his hands on your hips: "There we are my dear! You look extravagant!" Jumping up from the contact, you moved away from Alastor: "WAH! Don't touch me there!" Wrapping your arms across your abdomen, covering your sides, you backed away from Al, who was staring at you confused. "Why the strange reaction my dear? Are you injured by any chance?", Alastor said as he tiled his head at you, still frozen in shock at your reaction. Shaking your head at Alastor, you told him you were fine and said to him what the real reason was: "S-orry for overreacting. Its just I'm very ticklish there." Alastor took a second to process your words, then he inched closer to you, his smile turned mischievous and his eyes were locked on you like you were prey. "Ticklish, my dear?" Realizing what was happening, you backed up against the mirror and pleaded with Al. Alastor inched closer and closer to you, as he was wriggling his fingers at you. Trying to find a way out, you sidestepped him and rushed for the door. *SNAP* Hearing a snap from behind you, your body teleported and landed on your bed. Trying to get up, you were then felt something wrap around your legs and arms, and realized Al was using his black tentacles to hold you in place: "AL! LET ME GO!" Craning your head up, you saw Alastor at the foot of your bed, smiling as big as the Joker, before he sat down and crawled his way on top of you.

"*Evil cackling* No can do, my dear!" Alastor then placed his hands on your sides, and began to rapidly tickle you. "NOOOO!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STOPPPPPPPP!!" You screamed out, while squirmed around trying to break free from the tentacles. "Laugh my dear!", Al said as he was finding this very entertaining, enjoying the sounds of your laughter. You were starting to run out of breath from Al's tickle attack, as you kept trying to move and screamed out: "AL! ENOUGH! PLEASE! UNCLE! UNCLE!" After a few more minutes, Alastor stopped tickling you, and allowed you to breathe. "HAHA! Enjoyed yourself my dear?" Alastor smiled down at you, as he snapped his fingers, releasing you from the black tendrils. "Pant-pant Your an a**." You panted out your answer, as you glared at Alastor. Alastor smiled wider: "Incorrect! I'm a dear, darling!" You noticed that Al was still sitting on the bed, and your arms were free now. Feeling it was time for some payback, you placed your hands on his torso and tickled him back: "PAYBACK!" You continued to move your fingers, but Alastor was not squirming in the slightest. Looking up at him, you saw that he was still smiling at you with his eyebrow raised. "Are you not ticklish?" you asked him, as you dropped your hands down, stopping your tickle payback. Shaking his head was a clear answer to you that he was not ticklish. "Afraid not, my dear! Looks like your plan for payback failed!", he said while smirking down at you, leaning closer to your face as he was still hovering over you.

The both of you said nothing as you stopped and stared at each other. Your heart was going a mile a minute as you kept staring at Al's eyes, wondering what the heck was going on! Before you knew it, you felt a peck on your forehead, and Al quickly removed himself from the position, and got off the bed, facing away from you with his hands behind his back. "Well I must be off, darling! Time for another broadcast! Au revoir, my dear!", Al said as he made his way to the door, and walked out, leaving you in a state of shock. "W-w-what was t-hat? Did he j-j-ust kiss my forehead?!, your thoughts were in shambles as you were trying to peace together what just happened. It felt like it was a million degrees in the room, based on how hot your face felt. You knew Al wasn't interested in relationships or anything involving romance, so why did he kiss you on the forehead. Heaving a sigh, you fell back against the bed, grabbing a pillow and placing it on your face, as you kicked your legs up and down.

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ssahotchnerr · 6 months

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ALSO ALSO ALSO, Aaron keeping a pair of readers fuzzy socks in his go-bag for reader when a case is rough/they’re in a super cold area/just because 🤭🤭🤭

perfect pair

SCREAMING i'm setting this in the alaska episode it's the first thing my mind went to <33 cw; bau!reader, established relationship, fluff!!!!!

even with the burning fire going, countless chills continuously rushed through your body; you were shaking in place.

upon receiving word the case was in alaska, the customary temperature had been an afterthought. sure, you had packed (some of) your winter trappings; long sleeves, a heavy lined coat, boots. but you hadn't thought to layer, pack a set of gloves or a hat, wool socks rather than your usual cotton ones. rather, the excitement of purely being able to say you're going to alaska, of all places, had taken priority.

even today as you were getting dressed, you managed to talk aaron into lending you one of his favored quarter-zips. 'talk into' was a loose term, he hadn't needed the persuasion; you asked, he immediately accepted - never the one to deny you wearing his clothing, or the extra, provided warmth.

on the bright side, however, you had been hunkered down at the inn with penelope, researching the residents of the small town and not needing to brace the cold. but you might as well been, the heat coming through the air vents wasn't nearly enough, especially when the door frequently opened and the cold air drifted in. the fire was slowly weakening, and just thinking about the cold, made you freezing. the lingering frigidness was numbing your feet within your shoes, your fingers were just as biting - the bitterness was painful.

you were counting down the minutes until the day ended, eager to be warm in the comfort of bed, curled up with aaron 'the furnace' hotchner - the best perk of minimal rooms available and having to double-up. the two of you didn't typically share quarters while on the job, wanting to uphold professionalism, so this was a welcomed treat.

but when aaron had entered (and brought yet another rush of crisp air with him) to regroup with you and penelope, to discuss findings that would contribute to the profile, and hopefully narrow your search down, all he had to do was take one look of you shivering.

aaron walked behind the couch you were seated at, his hand finding your shoulder and giving it a squeeze hello, before heading up the stairs. at the gesture, you were quick to look up and acknowledge him, giving him a soft smile before your attention returned to penelope's screen.

aaron came back down a minute or two later, lightly tossing something onto your lap. it landed softly, but you still jumped a smidge, taking you by surprise.

you were met with your polka-dot fuzzy socks, a pair you hadn't seen in your drawer quite in a while, actually. your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity, grabbing the soft sherpa material and turning the pair over, analyzing as if you've never seen them before.

"you had these?" your eyes shot back up to aaron, arching an eyebrow in an accusatory, but playful, manner. the ends of your lips tugged upwards in a smile, your heart warming.

"given the circumstances, i'm sure you're glad i did." aaron's face matched your cheeky expression, a light smirk on his face. but he dropped the teasing demeanor, his gentleness returning, "i packed them into my go-bag a while ago. i figured they come in handy in one way or another, at some point. for comfort, warmth, when your ice cold feet touch my leg at night." his eyes smiled at you, and you couldn't help but grin.

aaron's immense, loving look was enough to melt everything in you, physically warming you. the sensation started in the middle of your chest, fanning out to the rest of your body, leaving you toasty and almost giddy.

forget the socks, layers, fireplace - all you needed was aaron.

"god that's adorable." penelope chimed in, who had been listening so quietly you'd forgotten she was there, a slight whine present in her voice, "never thought i'd be crying over a pair of socks, but here we are."

she turned back to her laptop, but her fingers paused above the keyboard, as thought came to her. her gaze drifted back towards you and aaron, a tickled glint in her eyes. "wait, i take that back. you two are the most, adorable pair."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine

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donatellawritings · 2 months

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tella baby it’s ♡ anon I LOVE SWEETHEART READER but J was wondering what if Rafe were with an Americana aesthetic reader? I imagine her being a very vintage-esque girl who loves picnics, farm work, listening to Lana, thrift shopping, sucking lollipops, wearing small shorts and denim skirts, just your typical girl next door OMG sorry if this is too long of an ask I can send a shorter one ahhhhhh ♡ ♡

this is perfect! ugh i love this sm <3

rafe had met you, through the likes of his sister, sarah — she’d stumbled upon your parents’ land during one of her bike rides through figure 8, her lips parted in awe at the sight of you brushing the shiny coat of your white camarillo horse, who’d she quickly learn was named ‘leche’ a silly name that stuck since you first got the horse as an innocent child. that one question about your beloved horse, was all it took for you and sarah to become engrossed in an hours-long conversation about anything and everything. she fell in love with everything about you — your big bombshell hair, cutesy doll lashes, skimpy baby pink polka dot bikini top, and even skimpier daisy dukes, all the way down to the adorable butterfly belly button ring that adorned your tummy.

the moment you’d exchanged the pleasantries of learning each other’s names, sarah was quick to make you her very best friend, your latin tongue making itself known as you spoke, leaving the perky blonde even more entranced by you — making sure that you had her phone number, before she pressed a sweet kiss to the side of your horse’s nose, turning to send you a small wave as she got back on her bike, pedaling her way back to tannyhill. the two of you were pathetically giddy and the potential of your budding friendship, you both were left giggling into the late hours of the night, before ending the call with plans for you to teach sarah how to ride a horse, tomorrow. it wasn’t until you had been friends for about six months, that sarah decided that you should come over to her house for once, she’d grown to accustomed to the judgement-free air that came with being on the farm with you.

sure, you lived on figure 8, but your family’s property teetered on the fine line of being considered part of the cut, but your parents were insistent on you being in an environment where you could experience the lavish side of life. so, as you got to know sarah cameron, the daunting thought of stepping foot inside of tannyhill had left you a nervous mess as you meticulously dolled yourself up. latin music flowed softly through your speaker as you squeezed your tube of glittery lipgloss between your sparkly cotton candy pink acrylic nails, precisely smearing the sticky gloss across your swollen lips, mushing them together before your pulled away from the mirror of your vanity with a content sigh.

carefully clasping your rosary around your neck, you gently combed your nails through the ends of your perfectly curled hair, before smoothing your hands down your strapless micro dress, the lace and silk lined cups that confined your breasts, adorned with a neatly sewed bow, pushing them up cutely against your chest as you slipped your feet into dainty white kitten heels, before rushing downstairs, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor as you stepped out onto your driveway, silently praying to yourself that you wouldn’t make an absolute fool of yourself. i mean, it was only meant to be an innocent lunch where you’d meet your best friend’s family — surely, in your little naive mind, you manipulated yourself into believing that nothing too bad could come from having lunch with the cameron family. right?

you were broken from your whiplash-inducing thoughts with parted sticky and swollen lips as the sound of sarah’s familiar car horn filled your pearl-earring adorned ears.

୨୧

with a sigh, sarah linked her arm through yours, biting down into her bottom lip as the two of you stepped inside of the grandeur that was tannyhill. before the two of you could exceed the confines of the foyer, she pulled away from you, suddenly overcome with the impending annoyance and embarrassment that came with introducing people to her family, specifically, her older brother. your dolly lashes fluttered together as your eyes softened with confusion.

before sarah could speak, the staggering height of ward cameron stopping behind sarah came into your line of vision, your lips parting as he clasped a fatherly hand down onto his daughter’s shoulder as she forced a warm smile at you, “hi sweetie,” he pressed his lips to sarah’s head, squeezing her shoulder before he pulled away from sarah, extending a firm hand in your direction, “s’a pleasure to finally meet you, i’m mr. cameron,” ward smiled, nodding approvingly as you revealed your name, enveloping your small hand around his as you politely shook his hand.

“hi mr. cameron,” you extended a courteous smile, fighting back a laugh as you watched sarah roll her eyes teasingly.

with a clap of his large hands, ward stepped to the side, “well, we don’t want to keep everyone waiting outside, your brother should be home soon, sarah,” ward breathes out a laugh, your wide eyes sparkling with awe as you walked through the grandeur main room of tannyhill. sarah allowed a giddy smile to pull on her pout as she took in your observant gaze. she loved how despite your status of living on figure 8, you remained humble, extending kindness to every person and animal you came across, so much so that it inspired her to treat even the smallest bugs with utmost respect.

“your home is beautiful, mr. cameron,” you beamed, lashes fluttering as you stepped out into the pristinely decorated backyard. your brief moment of shock once again overtaken by your meddlesome nerves as you approached the flower adorned table, smoothing your hands underneath the plush curve of your ass, before taking your seat beside sarah.

the table was quiet as your wiped your clammy hands against your dress, suddenly overcome with insecurity as sarah’s stepmother and younger sister stared at you, their eyes greedily drinking you in. with parted lips, you began to speak when wheezie suddenly cut in, “you’re really hot,” she blurted, your parted lips expanding into a flushed smile as sarah snorted beside you, a complete contrast from the stern and bewildered stares that wheezie received from ward and rose.

“that was so inappropriate, wheezie,” rose scolded with a displeased roll of her eyes, before turning to face ward who kept his stern eyes on wheezie who sunk into her seat.

you were quick to mouth ‘thank you’ to the younger girl, before turning your attention to ward who let out out a sharp sigh, running a hand over his face, before forcing a smile, “alright, well — my son should be home any minute, so please, feel free to help yourself to what’s on the table,” ward motioned to the array of salad, sandwiches, fruits, and pitchers of juice that covered the table. with a shaky hand, you poured yourself a glass of orange juice, licking over your glossed lips as sarah did followed suit, filling her glass.

just as you brought the glass to your lips, the sight of a tall young man, with greasy strands of hair fanning over his face approached the table, dressed in a black button up and khaki pants. fuck, he was hot. subconsciously your pressed your thighs together, focusing your attention on swallowing down the citrusy juice that flooded your tongue.

“nice of you to join us, rafe — have a seat, son,” ward spoke gruffly, watching closely as rafe took the seat at the opposite end of the table, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he took in your presence. his bright blue eyes immediately went the swells of your pushed-up breasts, before flickering up to meet your shy gaze, earning a disgusted scoff from sarah. ward did not miss his son’s inappropriate transgression, clearing his throat to gather the attention of the table, “son, this is sarah’s friend,” ward introduced you, rafe’s eyes remaining on yours as your name fell from ward’s mouth, causing rafe’s eyebrows to raise in intrigue as his head cocked to the side.

rafe decided that he had to toy with you, see if you truly were as light and airy as your physical appearance portrayed as he parted his pink lips, “yeah? how’d you get so lucky to meet my sweet sister, sarah?” rafe spoke, his tone pathetically condescending as he carefully watched you awkwardly shift in your sweet. you were a skittish one — he liked that.

with a forced and breathy laugh, you smiled politely, “she was riding her bike and she saw my horse, leche,” you answered truthfully, earning an amused chuckle from rafe that left you somewhat embarrassed. your doe eyes were quick to glaze as you swallowed thickly, before you turned to sarah.

“rafe, don’t be such a dick,” sarah spat, earning a corrective tut from ward as rafe glanced at his father with feigned confusion.

leaning forward, rafe focused his attention onto sarah, a tall knowing smirk on his face, “easy, sarah — m’just getting to know your little friend, i mean, isn’t that why she’s here?” rafe pushes further, returning his eyes to yours as your fingers fiddled with the silk trims that lined the hem of your dress. “she’s a big girl, i’m sure that she could speak up for her-” rafe began, before he was harshly cut off by the slam of ward’s closed fist colliding with the table, causing rafe to silence, his jaw clenched as he closed his eager mouth.

there was a part of you that felt bad for rafe, you almost felt responsible for his scolding, your soft eyes didn’t miss the way he flinched as ward hit the table. you could see that rafe just wanted attention, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore to subtle ache in your chest as he remained silent for the duration of the lunch, his eyes hanging low as the rest of the cameron family made polite conversation with you. it wasn’t until the entirety of the table went off to do their own thing, that you turned to rafe who blankly stared at his empty plate.

going against sarah’s wishes, you insisted on at least trying to talk to rafe and sarah knew that you’d simply felt bad for her brother — it was in your nature to want to fix anything that was broken. so, you remained seated, flipping your hair over your shoulder as your eyes feel on the gold signet ring that dressed rafe’s finger, “i like your ring,” you smiled, your core simmering as rafe brought his eyes to yours, his blank face empty of any definite expression.

“look — y’just a naive little girl who is my sister’s friend, not mine, y’understand?” rafe snapped, fighting back every urge not to bend you over the table as your glossed lips slightly quivered at his harsh words. your stomach churned with embarrassment as your eyes welled with hot threatening tears, “y’don’t speak to me, unless i speak to you, a’ight?” he spat, swallowing back the bitter guilt that became apparent in his tongue as you furiously nodded in your seat.

“okay,” you squeaked out, before hastily standing from your seat as you rushed to make your way back inside of the home, before rafe could see the fat tears that rolled down your blushy cheeks.

rafe knew that he had been a bit too harsh towards you, but he could tell that you needed some tough love — i mean, what was wrong with some redirection? your head was too far up in the clouds, and that would end up getting you into trouble that not even your pretty and swollen smile would be able to get out of. and what kind of a man would rafe be, if he didn’t look out for you, keep an eye out for you … even if it meant that he stole a glance up your dress as you tearfully walked away from him.

#♡ anon #asks #stoppp because americana!reader is so cute #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #obx imagine #obx #americana!reader

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judeswhore · 1 year

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easy fix; spencer reid

summary: after spending weeks searching for ways to ease the burden of his headaches, spencer has finally found a solution. you.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

requested: no i’m feeding my own obsession

notes: silly little spencer reid fic bc i’m down bad and had to do it :)) short and fluffy

you had a feeling spencer wasn’t well from the moment he closed the front door behind him, satchel landing almost unceremoniously on the floor beside the shoe wrack. he toed off his shoes, his odd socks, one red stripes, one blue polka dots, making you smile softly over the top of your book, gaze tracking his movements as he sluggishly shuck his coat off and unwound his scarf. brows drawn in tight he rubbed his fingers just above his eyebrow, grimacing in pain as he dipped his head away from the light inside the apartment.

“hey, pretty boy,” you were laying on the sofa, head propped up against the armrest, book settled against your knees and you let it drop to your side when you fully turned your attention to your boyfriend. he seemed to be in a world of his own and he startled slightly at the sound of your voice, blinking a few times as though to clear the fog in his head, his deer in the headlights look curling the smile at your lips even more. “everything okay?”

"yeah, yeah, just tired i think, long day. have you already eaten?" spencer kept massaging his fingers over his forehead, eyes squinting until you weren't sure if they were even open anymore. he dropped his sunglasses on to the table beside the door, his keys following suit and you suddenly understood. he was having one of his bad days and unless you approached the topic first, he would more than likely go straight to bed without asking for anything.

"hmm," you hummed noncommittally. "i made lasagna, there's some left over for you if you want it?" spencer shook his head and finally made his way towards you, fingers tugging a little to loosen the knot of his tie, top button popped open to show the soft skin of his throat. he fell back on to the sofa with a sigh, his free hand reaching to pull your feet over into his lap but before he could you were sitting up, shuffling as close as possible so you could help with his tie. "how bad is the headache?"

"what? i don't-"

"spence." he grimaced even more at your tone, his nose scrunching in that adorable way that never failed to make your heart thump. you slowly undid his tie, pulling it from around his neck and draping it over the back of the sofa.

"a little worse than usual but i think i just need to sleep. you know, lack of sleep has been proven to lower the body's pain threshold which makes them more susceptible to headaches and explains why they're often more painful." spencer sent you a sheepish half smile before his eyebrows scrunched and he turned from the lamp sitting on the small coffee table. "and i've not exactly had a lot of sleep in the last week."

"so, what i'm hearing, doctor reid, is that i need to take you to bed immediately?" his lips suddenly lifted into a smile and he gave a little shrug.

"that's usually the best remedy for most things." your smile matched his, your hand gently patting his chest before you leant in and pressed a single soft kiss to his mouth. the smallest bit of contact had him humming happily, his smile only growing when you tilted and kissed his cheek. pushing yourself up you brushed his hair back off his forehead.

"i'm gonna make you some tea, do you wanna go up and i'll bring it?"

"i can make-"

"go take that suit off, i'll be five minutes." spencer was still sitting in the same spot when you reached the kitchen door, his gaze locked on your back, eyes soft with adoration and love over how you were always so willing to make him feel better no matter what. you threw him a playfully scolding look over your shoulder.

"spencer reid, you better be upstairs and undressed by the time i'm finished making this."

his suit was gone when you stepped into the bedroom and he was sprawled on his back in only a pair of red checkered pants, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other against his stomach. messy hair and the tantalising happy trail made your stomach dip, his effect on you still as strong as the first time you met him. the room was mostly dark, the only light the small bedside lamp which was dimmed to the lowest setting.

"jj wants to go for brunch tomorrow." spencer spoke up, his voice quiet and a little lower than usual, the early signs of sleep already evident. he peeked at you from beneath his arm, eyes still squinted beneath furrowed brows.

"will she be bringing henry?"

"he wants to show you that he learnt how to ride his bike."

"he did?" your smile was instantaneous as you thought about spencer's godson, a look casting over your features that the man in front of you couldn't quite grasp. he watched with lowered lashes as you placed his chamomile tea on the nightstand before climbing on to the bed.

"mhm, he can ride for a whole minute he says. you didn't make yourself tea?"

"no, i'm okay. c'mere." patting your lap you gestured for spencer to rest his head there, his hand curling quickly around your thigh as he got himself comfortable. he nuzzled his nose against your bare skin, the material of your shorts having ridden up and left a soft kiss behind that had warmth spreading through your chest. "can you turn so i can put this on for you?"

“what is it?”

“migraine patch, i bought you a new box when i was at the store yesterday.” spencer shifted a little so he was facing the ceiling, gaze soft on yours, smile just a little lopsided and he lifted his hand to prod his finger into your cheek.

“always taking care of me.”

“hotch pays me monthly.” you caught his eye roll as you brushed his curls back from his forehead, finger tips grazing lovingly over his hairline. spencer stayed silent and watched as you opened the migraine patch, pressed it lightly against the centre of his forehead and smoothed it down into place.

a deep sigh blew past his lips when you gently rubbed your thumb across the patch, eased the slight tension between his still furrowed brows. your touch was light and comforting and within seconds he was letting his eyes fall closed, the grimace he’d been wearing on and off since coming home smoothing out just slightly. the tip of your finger trailed down the bridge of his nose and swept beneath his eye. the dark circles were prominent, days old bags tugging painfully at your heart because it was obvious it had been a while since your boyfriend had gotten a full nights sleep.

leaning down you pressed a fleeting kiss to his closed eyelid. “try get some sleep okay?” his reply was a nod and then he was guiding your hand into his hair, quietly urging you to ease the dull throbbing with your fingers. doing as he wanted, you slowly massaged the tips into his scalp, pressure light but just enough to have him melting into you, the tension in his face relaxing even further. you worked your thumb carefully into his temple before sweeping it over his eyebrow and rubbing into the space between them.

it wasn’t long before spencer’s breathing started to even out, the steady rise and fall of his chest and the peaceful look on his face an obvious indication that he’d finally fallen asleep. he looked at ease, pretty pink lips parted to let out soft snores, the twisted look of discomfort he’d been wearing now smoothed out and you let your lips tilt into a gentle smile. again you traced your finger over his nose and the curve of his lips.

“goodnight, spence.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid smut

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shootingmorningstar · 1 month

Note

Was inspired by bambygourl’s fanart and a TikTok I saw. Dressing up as Roger and Jessica Rabbit for a costume party with Lucifer. I think he’d be all pouty and grumpy about dressing up as such a silly character and not a suave charming character. Especially since he’d take a look at the white button up, red trousers with suspenders, and blue bow tie with yellow polka-dots and see it as a fashion nightmare XD. And don’t get him started on the bunny ears and tail. Tho his mood is sufficiently uplifted when he sees the reader dressed up as Jessica Rabbit. Low cut red dress with a slit and all. Just imagine pulling on his suspenders or bow tie for a kiss, getting lipstick on his mouth and face, and cooing over how adorable and handsome her honey-bunny is.

I've been meaning to get to this request ever since I saw it because it is just so good. I'm definitely biased for anything Lucifer related but god this is just so cute. Anon, your brain is outstanding. I love pouty Lucifer. If you still have that tiktok on hand or ever come across it again, do you think you could send it my way .ᐣ

You didn't include what kind of request you wanted though, and my default is HCs -- but I couldn't help but throw in a little drabble based on them, too. Or, at least I intended it to be a drabble .ᐣ It got away from me, haha.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀Lucifer and Female Reader Dressing

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Up As Roger and Jessica Rabbit ~

Lucifer is initially thrilled when you bring up wanting to attend a famous yearly costume party in Pride with him. A chance to show you off sounds amazing, and he's great with costumes. Just the thought of you two matching is enough to get him excited.

You seemed just as excited as he was -- in fact, he was even more excited when you told him you'd already had something in mind .ᐟ He's pestering you to tell him just what the costumes were as soon as the plan leaves your lips, but much to his displeasure, you refuse, saying you want to keep it a surprise.

You'd even managed to resist the very strongest puppy-dog eyes and pout. Impressive. He usually succeeds in getting his way with that one -- who could ever say no to that face .ᐣ Having exhausted his options, he sighs his defeat.

Well, nearly exhausted his options. He was entirely too ready to pretend that you'd won and snoop through your closet the second you walked away. Apparently his quick glance at said closet had given him away though, and with a quick deadpan stare alongside a scary sounding ❛ don't you dare. ❜ has his feet rooted to the floor.

Did his poker face really suck so bad .ᐣ He's definitely practicing it in the mirror later.

Ultimately, though, he trusts you completely and your choice in matching outfits is no exception, so he allows it to drop for now. There's still a few more days until the party, but that time could be spent much more productively by your side rather than whining about clothing.

That is, until the day of the party comes around and you bring out his outfit. You'd never seen Lucifer's jaw drop quite like that before and it takes iron will to stop yourself from giggling at his present state.

He doesn't understand the reference. Lucifer regrets his past decision to give humanity free will. It's obvious, even if he never seems to say it outright. He had given out such a precious gift and so much of humanity chose to abuse it, to be nothing but cruel. Looking at sinners and by extension humanity is just a terrible reminder of what he'd done, so he prefers to avoid it whenever possible. This quite often includes the media of the living realm -- he's never even heard about the movie, forget seeing it.

So without the full context, all he knows is that you've just handed him an absolutely atrocious outfit -- and to make it worse, you expect him to go out in it .ᐣ Seriously, he whinges, red overalls with a blue bow .ᐣ Rabbit ears .ᐣ And to make it worse, you won't even show him your outfit until he gets dressed .ᐟ He can't believe you're laughing.

He sounds completely and totally ridiculous, in your defense. Seriously, has he seen his regular outfit .ᐣ He looks absolutely stunning, sure -- but he also looks like he walked right out of a circus.

It says a lot, though, that despite the complete and total pity party he's currently throwing himself, he's beginning to shuffle into the costume anyway. He's grumbling the whole way, but the fact that he just doesn't have it in him to say no to you warms your heart.

You had been so, so eager about this party, and the way your eyes had shined like stars when you told him had long since burned itself into his heart.

wc ; 1.2k

His seemingly endless complaints had tapered off ever so slightly when you shimmied his grasp off of the ruby red suspenders sagging unbuttoned over his chest. By the time you take the fabric into your own hands his protests faded to little more than a mumble under his breath, and with the very first snap of a button in place under your gentle touch he'd quieted completely. Where a look of exasperation had reflected off his face seconds prior, in its place now is that of silent awe, his gaze trained on your every action. The gesture of intimacy is enough to leave Lucifer somewhat choked up, his heart still not used to receiving such acts of adoration and kindness. You tie the cornflower blue fabric adorned with tiny yellow spots into a bow to accentuate the costume and cover his hands briefly with your own as you slip the gloves onto his fingers.

Not twenty minutes had passed, and he finds his attitude regarding the ensemble shifting with every second you take to assist him into it. Each and every part of it looks ridiculous at best, but the thought of you picking it out solely for him has him warming up to the idea.

Declaring your work complete, you raise your grasp ever so slightly, palms holding each of his cheeks close, your thumbs rubbing soft little circles below his eyes. Your affections are sufficient only when finished with a kiss placed on his forehead. ❛ I'm going to go get dressed, okay .ᐣ No peeking. I promise I'll be right back. ❜

The way his wrists on instinct dart out to catch yours to bring you close to him again as you pull back nearly got you. He's extended his lips in a pout once more. You hate to leave him quite so sad looking but you know he'll appreciate what you have planned enough for it to be worth it.

Bathroom door shutting closed behind you, there's the smallest bit of lingering regret that he can't help you to get dressed like you had for him. The outfit itself takes you barely a few moments to slip into -- it's the makeup that requires precision, time and effort. His pacing around the bedroom is audible, impatient steps sounding into stomps, the sounds causing you to choke on a laugh. You need a steady hand for your eyeshadow and that's hard to maintain during an act quite as cute as this.

Nonetheless, your look is finished within half an hour and therefore Lucifer is put out of his misery. It's not a second after the door clicks open that his attention is caught, snapped to the light peaking out of the doorway. Stepping into the small hallway, your eyes are met with his own -- and the way his pupils widen as soon as he gets a glance of your dress makes both your efforts and his complaining worthwhile. His gaze takes you in from top to bottom, each detail enchanting him further. The dress so perfectly hugging your curves is crimson to match him and absolutely breathtaking -- and are you walking towards him .ᐣ Your strut does well to accentuate the slit stitched into the leg, your thigh tantalizing in its display.

Finally reclaiming your place beside him, one of your fingers reaches out, finding purchase under his chin -- and when you tilt his head up you swear you saw his eyes flash red. ❛ Hello, my darling husband, ❜ you coo, sending his already overloaded brain into a frenzy. Husband . . .ᐣ You wanted . . .ᐣ With him, really . . .ᐣ And although he's beginning to put the pieces together and clue in that such a term of endearment was part of your match, you seemed so happy to say it. He snaps his focus back onto just how stunning you look tonight, but the idea has firmly implanted itself into the depths of his mind.

Back into the present time, his hands have begun to roam -- he wants to commit every detail of you to memory, and that includes the feeling of your dresses fabric under his fingertips. His grasp is met with your own, for it's not long before you're pulling the straps of his suspenders, tugging him forward into a kiss. By the time he's recovered from his surprise enough to reciprocate, though, you're already beginning to pull away. He chases your lips with a whine but you've already moved on, pressing a kiss first to his cheek and then to his forehead. It's only when you offer him a small compact mirror does he understand -- each of your kisses has left behind a little bit of the lipstick you oh so painstakingly applied. Your marks on his face have left him entranced, desperately craving more.

A gasp rips itself from those same cherry red lips in surprise -- you weren't expecting him to summon forth his tail, much less wrap it around your midsection and use it to bring you closer. ❛ Kiss me again, ❜ He pleads, desperate and breathy. ❛ Anything for my honey bunny, ❜ you chime, matching the mark on his left cheek with one on the right. ❛ You just look so cute, ❜ between each kiss is another offering of praise and compliments, the blush left in your wake matching excellently. ❛ Who's my handsome bunny .ᐣ ❜

Your multitude of kisses has left Lucifer stunned and looking nothing short of angelic -- even more so than usual. You're fully intending on giving him several more, leaning in to do just that when the wall mounted clock besides you chimes a new hours arrival, alerting you to the time. ❛ Oh, dear. I'm very sorry, Mr. Rabbit, but I'm afraid we simply must be going. We don't want to be late, do we .ᐣ ❜

Fixing your lipstick takes all of a few seconds, leaving you free to grab a makeup wipe off the pouch resting atop your vanity and wipe all of the stains you'd adorned his face with away. A snap of his wrist catches yours just inches from his face, however, halting your plans in their tracks. Confused, you look to him for an explanation, a soft ❛ leave them. please .ᐣ ❜ being all he offers you. ❛ You're going to go to the party like this, love .ᐣ ❜ to which he nods sagely. He can't bear to part with them -- not when the lipstick marks are yours, not when they declare proudly that he is yours.

❛ If you say so, honey. ❜ You can't deny that the prospect leaves your heart fluttering. A grand, golden portal appears with a simple snap of his fingers and he takes your arm, now linked with his own in an attempt to usher you forward. He can't wait to show you off, to watch as other demons eyes glow green as they stare his way. You stay still, though, prompting him to look back at you with an air of confusion. It's then that you lean close, whispering ❛ be a good bunny and there will be more where that came from. too bad we'll have to wait until we come home, hmm .ᐣ ❜

Suddenly Lucifer can't wait for this party to be over.

I still can't believe I'd originally intended this to be 100 words and it ended up over a thousand. I can't help it, I'm so weak for anything Lucifer related. I'm half tempted to write an absolutely filthy post party part 2. If there's enough demand for it .ᐣ I just might.

As always, let me know what you think .ᐣ Hearing back from you guys keeps me motivated ~

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urfavnegronerd · 9 months

Text

agape- nicholas britell

summary: miles is takin down ur braids

published: july 27, 2023

warnings: Grammarly hates me, the patriarchy, a dash of toxic masculinity, miles being a product of that grrah grah boom type masculinity, aave (no im not translating shit for you yall got access to urban dictionary and its not really a warning), i edited it myself so lmk if there are any mistakes

sueñito- little dream, bonito- handsome/ pretty boy, no me importa- i don't care/ it's not important to me

w/c: 1.5 k

reader's black coded cus im black so deal w it <3

i think this something every black boy be needin deep down

“Stop movin, ma”

“It’s knotty,”

“You had these in for how long?”

Silence.

“There's your answer right there, mama,”

“Sorry,”

“Nun to be sorry for, just hold still,”

Currently sitting on the bathroom floor criss-cross apple sauce, Miles was sitting on the toilet, your head between his knees, while he was taking down the frizzy lemonade braids that barely hugged your scalp anymore.

“Miles?”

He hums in response, rat tail comb in one hand, a tub of coconut oil in the other, threading the tail of the comb through the extensions down your back

“You’re the prettiest boy in all of Brooklyn,”

“Shut up”

“Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,”

“Nuh-uh,”

“Fuck you mean ‘nuh uh’? The little freckles all over your cheeks? Cutest things I’ve ever seen, especially how they’re all slightly different shades, like lil polka dots all over your face, gives me a map a’ where to kiss. The little tiny dimple on the left side of your face? Adorable, 10/10, no notes. Also very kissable." He's still now, staring at the back of your head, using bundles strewn over his shoulder, mouth agape. “Them thick and long ass eyelashes? I could stare at ‘em all day, they look like teeny tiny butterfly wings when you rest your eyes.”

“Shut up,” he whispers, still unmoving, the little dab of coconut oil on his fingers slowly dribbling down his wrist

“Your mind pretty as hell, too, I like listening to what you have to hear when you let me,” you mumble, pressing tiny kisses into his cargo pant–clad kneecap.

“Stop doin that shit, ma”

“What?”

“Talkin all crazy like that,”

“I’m not talkin crazy, miles I’m being honest,”

“You makin me out to be some weak ass lil boy,”

“Miles.” you turn around abruptly, staring at him dead in the eye. “I’m jus being honest wit you. What's going on?”

“It’s nothin, ma, turn around”

“Sueñito. Lemme know what's up,”

“It’s nothin,”

You huff, turning around to face the bottom of the sink again. Silence bellows throughout the bathroom, Miles rubbing oil on your braids to detangle them to later drag the comb in once again and throw the discarded hair extension over his shoulder. The only sound between the two of you is the Marvin Gaye spinning on the record player, rooms away, dull basslines thrumming through the apartment.

“Ion like this,”

“What?”

“Whatever jus happened, we talk about what's bothering us,”

“Ain't nothin botherin me, ma,”

“Then why you start buggin' the second I get to complimenting you?”

“Cus ian wit all that girly shit,”

“Fuck you mean girly shit, I’m jus tryna love up on you Miles,” your nostrils flare as you stare ahead of you.

“Baby, I’m all for that but–”

“Miles, did someone tell you boys can't get that?”

A silence.

“Baby.”

“What?”

“Jus cus you a boy dont mean you don't deserve love,”

“Aint nobody say allat–”

“Shut up Ian done,” you say, swiftly turning around and snagging the oil and comb from his hand “jus cus you a boy doesn't mean you don't deserve to feel shit miles. Ion know what it was like wit your last girl, but Ian her. Okay? You allowed to be a person wimme, you know that right?”

“Ma–”

“Shut up I still ain't done yet. Miles I’m real, I’m right here. real like you, I promise you I’m not goin nowhere right now,”

“You done?”

“Yeah,”

“C’mere,” he motions to his lap, taking the comb and oil out of your hands and setting them on the tiled floor, laying out the discarded bundles.

“ ‘s oil all up on my hands”

“No me importa ma, come up on here,”

Obeying and wiping the excess coconut oil off your hand, you do. Straddling his lap, and looking into his eyes, examining the twinge of sadness in his eyes.

“Talk to me, mama,”

“I want you to know that you deserve love and that you’re allowed to feel some typa way. I want you to talk to me, Miles. I care about you so much and I wanna make sure you’re good. I love hearing you talk, but Ion like havin to beg you to talk to me. I love jus bein in your presence, but I hate feelin like that Miles. I don’t know who told you whatever's going through your head right now but they dead wrong. I wanna know how you be feelin, I wanna know.”

“Why you even talk like this to me?”

“Cus I’m your girl, n I like to kiss up on you and love all up on you,”

At this, he averts his eyes, trying to escape your gaze, his breath audibly speeding up.

“Mm mm, don't do that Miles. Please breathe,”

You plead, subconsciously pressing your middle three fingers under his jaw trying to measure his heart rate. Almost as a reflex to hide from you, he shrugs your hand away from under his jaw and pulls his hoodie over his mouth.

“Nah nah, don't hide from me neither,”

“Ain’t nobody hidin from you,”

“Jus cus you a boy don’t mean you don't deserve them random ass cuddles, or someone to tie up your durag or wash your hair. It don’t mean you shouldn't get flowers or hugs or them lil hickies behind your ear. Don't mean you not allowed to be sad or mad or wanna cry. Now Ion know who told you or made you feel that way but they dead wrong Miles. You allowed to feel with me,”

“Ian some lil boy runnin around though, that shit ain't for me,”

“If you wasn't supposed to feel and acknowledge your feelings, why would you be able to feel them? They there for a reason,”

Still straddled on his lap, he looks up at you with the tiny leverage you have on him. His eyes are big and doe-like, almost as if he’s scared to make this next step, say this next sentence.”

“Ion know why,” he mumbles, voice soft and scared. suddenly he’s kissin up on you, gripping anything he can get his hands on, like he’s making up for lost time, lost feelings. It's urgent and a little rough, though his lips are soft and velvety, a twinge of menthol chapstick on them.

“Yo yo yo, slow down. Ian goin nowhere” you whisper into his mouth, nails gently raking across his neck “ ‘m right here Miles, see?” you ask, guiding his hands to feel on the left side of your chest, right above your heart. “ ‘s my heart under there, I'm right here okay? I’m real, Miles I swear,”

“You’re real?” he whispers, breath shaky and uneven fisting the thin fabric of your camisole under the evergreen zip-up, in an attempt to feel more of your heart.

“You allowed to feel your feelings the same way you feel my heart,”

He still looks astonished, scared, and frozen. suddenly it wasn’t him you were talking to anymore. it was the scared little Brooklyn boy who had all these feelings stored away inside him, unsure of what to do or who to show them to.

“ ‘m sitting right here miles. I’m your girl, okay? This is real, and you are real,”

“I’m real?” tears begin to swim in his eyes.

“You’re real miles. and those feelings in that big heart of yours? Those are real too. And if you let me, I wanna hear all of 'em.”

His body stills once more against you, a small tear gliding down his cheek.

“I love you,”

And then he’s sobbing.

“Sshh, hey it's okay” you whisper, holding him close to your chest. “I love you so much I can’t hardly breathe when I'm around you. It’s okay and you're okay, Miles. I’m real and this is real and you. You are real.” you mumble into his braids, holding him with the protectiveness of a mother with a small child.

He just sat there, his head buried in your chest as he cried quietly, letting everything out. You just sat and let him cry and vent through his tears. All the things he had bottled up, discouraged to show to anyone. Sooner or later the tears slow to a stop, his face puffy and hot.

Gently tugging the ends of his braids, he looks up at you.

“You feel better sueñito?” you ask, dragging the cuff of your sweater to dry his face and pressing butterfly kisses to his cheeks in its wake. He did nothing but nod lazily, seemingly lighter, and nuzzling his face into your chest.

“Lemme finish wiping up your face n then you can be all up on me, bonito, okay?

He just nodded, dropping his head back to rest against the bathroom wall, the half-taken-out braids on your scalp no longer th task at hand. Reaching behind him you grab a baby wipe and swipe the tears and snot off his face, leaving his skin with a glossy finish. Holding his chin up, you look dead in his eyes.

“You so beautiful Miles.”

And this time, he nods.

🩷 reblogs are always appreciated for reach <3

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talesofesther · 1 year

Text

pretty secrets

Wednesday Addams x Reader

This story belongs to the Sweet Calamity universe and is set before chapter 10 (but can also be read as a stand-alone)

Summary: Wednesday thinks you're hiding something from her, and she doesn't like when it starts to rob her of her time with you.

A/N: Hi, yes, here's me procrastinating on other projects just to write this boatload of fluff.

Masterlist

You've been acting secretive lately.

To anyone less aware, it might go unnoticed. But Wednesday had sharp senses.

And when regarding the subject of her affections, her senses are extra sharp.

The changes started a little over a week ago. You'd say you're busy after classes yet not tell her why; you won't allow her into your dorm anymore or, if you do, you always need a few minutes alone to 'tidy it up'; and she once caught you and Enid gossiping around, big smiles on your faces — especially yours — though when she asked what it was about, you changed the subject before giving her a definitive answer.

It's meaningless to worry about it, childish even, yet it bothers the Addams girl. She feels as if there's a small barrier between you that shouldn't have been there anymore.

She, of course, would never let you know about it.

"We happen to have a common free period after lunch today," Wednesday informed you out of the blue, keeping a steady hold of the Hibiscus flower as you carefully plucked out its petals — for someone who loves nature, Wednesday was strangely surprised when she learned you were willing to 'destroy' it, in order to make tea.

You froze your motions with the tweezers as you glanced up at her, "yeah?"

Wednesday nodded once, shifting her gaze to the flower when she felt a familiar distant warmth on her cheeks, "maybe we could enjoy it together, coffee perhaps?"

Wind came through the open doors of the greenhouse, rustling the many leaves around, along with a few rogue wisps of your hair that Wednesday was itching to brush back. The place inside the glass walls and amidst the plants became as much of a safe haven for Wednesday as it was for you.

You gave her what was half a smile and half a grimace, raising your hand to tuck your hair behind your ear; "I won't be able to, I'm sorry."

There was no denying the sudden melancholy in Wednesday's features. The adorable pout on her lips.

"We could go tomorrow, though." Under the table, you bumped her boots with your sneakers, trying to get her eyes to meet yours again.

Running her thumb over one of the few remaining burgundy petals of the flower, Wednesday sighed, her dark eyes cast down, "of course, mi flor, however you prefer."

—

Wednesday Addams walking around Nevermore's hallways on nothing but her dark long-sleeve pajama shirt, black and white polka-dot pants and hair up in a bun was a sight to be seen, luckily no one would be out at this hour — and if she did bump into someone, she would just have to kill them.

But she didn't have many options. She couldn't sleep.

Her talk with you from earlier still bugged her, making her glare at her ceiling as if it personally offended her whilst most unkind scenarios popped up in her mind. Didn't you enjoy her company anymore? Were you unhappy with your relationship and slowly pulling away?

She had to know, and there was no way she'd be waiting until morning so she could ask like a normal person.

Wednesday knocked on your door and you answered rather quickly, indicating that you too, were still awake at past one in the morning.

"Hi," your smile was instant when you saw her on the other side of the door, biting back a comment about her rather adorable clothes, choosing instead to stash the sight on your best memories, "is everything okay?"

"May I come in?" Was all Wednesday asked.

You hesitated, "uh- yeah, just a second."

Wednesday saw herself, yet again, having a staring contest with the dark wood of your door while you most likely hid something from her. She tried to ignore the unpleasant twisting of her stomach.

You opened the door again not a minute later, motioning her in and closing it back again after she was inside.

Maybe it was because your soul could read her heartbeats as if they were a favorite book, but Wednesday appreciates that she sometimes doesn't have to say a word for you to know.

You came into her space slowly, giving her all the time to tell you otherwise. Wednesday instead took the tiniest step toward you, her gaze going down and back up to your eyes.

With a gentleness only she witnessed, you raised your hands to both her cheeks, gingerly pushing back the longer strands of her fringe; your fingers tracing her cheeks and raising the hair at the back of her neck. You then leaned up until your lips could leave the faintest of kisses on Wednesday's forehead.

Her eyes fell closed the second your skin touched hers, like the perfect spell.

When you pulled back, your hands traced their path down until you held onto her own. Your fingers intertwining.

"What's bothering you?"

Wednesday's eyes blinked open lazily, her mouth dry because of the tenderness you gifted her with.

"Have you been… unhappy with us?" Wednesday asked, sounding the most hesitant you ever heard her.

You frowned as if she spoke in a foreign language you had no idea on how to begin understanding; "of course not, why would you say that?"

Setting her jaw tightly in place, Wednesday chooses to focus on your dirty sneakers haphazardly resting near the door instead of your eyes. "You don't seem to want to spend time together anymore, and I feel you're not telling me something."

You couldn't help but grin, because how foolish of you to think she wouldn't notice.

"If you're unhappy, you must tell me," she pressed, taking another step closer to you as her hands gripped yours tighter, "I know I'm not the… perfect partner but-"

"You are," you interrupted her in the same heartbeat, bringing one of her hands up to your lips so you could kiss her knuckles, "and there's no one that could make me happier," you promised against her skin before letting go, walking around her and to your wardrobe.

Wednesday watched with a deep frown as you shuffled through your stuff, her skin still tingling.

"I was going to wait to give you this on a more… special occasion," you told her, biting onto your lip as you looked at your creation in your hands, your heart beating loudly in your chest. With a deep breath in, you turned to face Wednesday again, "but since you're so impatient," you teased, "I guess now is as good a time as any."

The moonlight coming through your window illuminated it perfectly. Vines and tiny branches formed the perfect shape of a crow, little bits of it still adorning moss and small leaves but it added character; on its beak, it held a tiny basket made of the same material — undoubtedly by your skilled hands — inside it, rested a little potted cactus.

You extended the gift for Wednesday, holding onto your breath as you watched her wide eyes move from your face to your hands and back. "I made it for you," you encouraged shyly.

With careful hands, Wednesday took her gift. Her fingers traced over the shape of the bird as she still strived to come up with words.

"I will admit that I got a little excited about finishing it," you chuckled timidly, "I'm sorry it got a bit in the way of our time together."

Few people have gifted Wednesday with something so 'simple' yet so meaningful, this was the result of probably hours of work for you, and you did it for her.

"Now you'll always have a piece of me in your room too," you told her with a fond gaze.

Wednesday glanced back up at you with the beginnings of a smile threatening to show on her lips.

You scrunched your nose, "cheesy, I know."

Whatever unkind thoughts Wednesday had in her mind were vanquished right away, replaced instead by a nauseating emotion she couldn't get enough of.

Carefully placing the gift on your nightstand, Wednesday took meaningful steps toward you until she could take hold of your waist and her lips were just a breath away from yours. "I'll treasure it forever," she said quietly, like a secret against your lips.

She had no intentions of going back to her room for the night.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @jjsmaybank20 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany @v1ci0us @the-nightshades-library @tundra1029 @aahdiieb @greyscxle-is-taken

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

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giuliettagaltieri · 1 year

Photo

Number One Fan

Pairing: Pro Athlete!Eren Jaeger x Fan!reader

Synopsis: You have always been there to cheer him on, if only he would look at you the same way you look at him. But who are you compared to the all too perfect Mikasa?

Warning: Giving too much x giving too little, angst, unprotected sex, pregnancy scare.

Word Count: 5496

The crowd roared the moment his crimson volleyball shoes stepped into the court. Eren Jaeger flashes a blinding smile at nobody in particular, aware that somebody’s camera was focused on him no matter where he looked.

“Go Eren!”

His grin grew wider, hearing the familiar voice and after turning to his right, there he sees you, all pretty in your pastel blue dress. All dolled up for him, just like how you always did since he was still in college, when he was two years your senior.

He sent you a wink before jogging to his team. He did not need to look back to see you clutching your chest, face warmed, all flushed after such effortless deed by him.

Eren did not have much intentions behind the act. Some of his fans liked you and shipped you two together. He could not care less what that was but it was good publicity so he did not see any harm in fanning the flames every now and then.

The game was going smoothly, way too smoothly.

It was almost boring.

Eren is up to serve.

Paradis Hunters are one point away from beating Mid-East Canons who were twelve points behind.

Eren released a breath, all eyes are on him. If he lands this serve, the game is over, they’ll go home with another victory. Albeit it being a bland one.

The crowd cheers for him and he tries to drown them out as he dribbles the ball four times, he looks at the court on the other side of the net and lifts the ball within eye level.

The referee whistles.

Eren hears his heartbeat in his ears, the yells and screams fading in the background.

“Get that point, Eren!” You cheer.

In an instant, he tosses the ball up, running after it, his arm muscles rippling like intricate feathers of manmade wings and he jumps with added spring in his step and smack!

A split second is all it took before the ball lands an inch away from the shoes of the opponent’s libero.

And all falls silent.

Eren clenches his hand and grins just before he points at you.

The deafening sound of the crowd resonates beyond the walls of the sports arena.

But before you could smile back at Eren, he was already with his team, but it doesn’t really matter, you are just relieved that he heard your encouragement earlier despite the loud cheers of the crowd.

Eren grimaced when his teammates trap him in a sweaty hug.

“Oi! Oi! Who’s that chick huh? She your girl?”

With a click of his tongue, Eren manages to pull away from their rather disgusting embrace.

“She’s just a fan.”

They all laugh at him but said nothing more. Eren, after all, is not known for his patience. Besides, they have a meet and greet event to attend to in half an hour.

With fresh new clothes, Eren rubs a towel in his long locks.

“You excited to see your fans, Mr. popular?” A teammate of his, teases while elbowing him.

Eren chuckles, shaking his head. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The loud clicking of the cameras and epilepsy inducing flashes were all too familiar, yet Eren could still feel the same excitement as he did when he received the first homemade cookies from a fan in college. Oh, hold on, that was you. The thought made him smile, especially since you are standing right in front of him now.

Still as awkward as the first day he met you, twiddling with your dainty fingers with a fresh batch of chocolate crinkles in your arms, all wrapped up in a clear plastic packaging decorated with pink polka dots finished with a perfectly tied ribbon.

“Hey!” He puts on his polite smile. “Thanks for cheering us on.” A standard line provided by their manager.

“Sure! It was an awesome game, you and the team clearly did your best, cheering you on was the least we could do.” You say avoiding eye contact as you twirled your hair. Adorable.

“Did you make those for me?” Eren looks at the sweets you are cradling against your soft bosom, he let his eyes wander for a while before meeting your shy gaze. He knew it was for him, he just liked watching you stumble upon your words.

You look at the crinkles then at him. “Oh! Yes, yes, I did.” You hand it to him and he accepts it with both hands, which brushed yours a bit too much, startling you, setting your face ablaze.

He gives you a saccharine smile as he thanks you.

Eren’s eyes flit to the person behind you, your cue that your time with him is over.

You bow to him and he nods at you before greeting the person next to you.

“Gee poor chick.” His teammate chuckles.

Eren is thankful to his fans’ support but he cannot bring himself to care for every single one of them.

They might know extensive details about him but he can’t even name one of his fans.

Well, he knows you. But you don’t count since you’re present since his college volleyball career.

“Excuse me, could you sign this for me?”

Eren looks up to see a photoshopped photo of him where his shirt was taken off and replaced with a sculpted body, which isn’t too different from his real one, was staring back at him. He concealed the annoyance with a smile and grabbed his sharpie.

“Sure.” He smiles and pulls the cap off with his teeth.

“Man, good-looking dudes sure have it tough, huh.” His teammates say, sympathetically, knowing how uncomfortable it is to be in such predicament. Receiving their fair amount of creepy gifts from fans themselves during their debuts.

Eren pretended not to hear and went on to the next fan, signing whatever they wanted him to sign. Thanking them, smiling at them, it made him sick.

But he wouldn’t want it any other way.

He is adored, worshipped even.

Eren lavished in it.

Despite it being suffocating sometimes.

He cannot get out without some sort of disguise, less his fans recognize him.

And that is exactly the reason why he is dressed in an ironically conspicuous black hoodie and a pair of dark glasses that hide his green eyes.

The elevator dings and Eren steps into the dark parking lot and heads straight to his dodge challenger hellcat.

The engine roars and he speeds to the highway.

His condominium unit is as dark and empty as he left it earlier that morning.

Eren strips his hoodie, leaving only a thin tee.

The refrigerator light bathes his face when he fetched his frozen meal, a quick pop in the microwave and it’ll be good enough to eat.

As he waits, he decides to go online.

Notification after notification flooded his phone.

Congratulations Eren!

Congrats on ur win, xoxo!

You did so well! Good luck on the semi-finals, your message said.

As if he needed luck.

That was an awesome serve!

Man, I wish I could play like you.

A small smile is creeping up on Eren’s lips as he let himself indulge in the attention. Because he deserves it.

He ate his dinner while watching replays of his game and the edits made just for him.

Damn, he looked good!

Then there’s an edit of you.

Right.

Some of his fans liked the idea of the two of you together.

He checked the comments section and just as he thought, it was a mess.

You have a good amount of fans but a lot also “ship” him with Mikasa, a pro volleyball player from Hizuru. An ace. And a woman blessed with a divine figure.

But Mikasa is a woman of independence. There was a time that he thought that she was into girls, until he caught her blushing after he complimented her by calling her eyes pretty.

She’s just a little shy, playing hard to get, but she is a girl still.

Sure, you’re cute but you’ve been a fan for years and your presence has gone a bit stale.

Mikasa is a new game, a challenge.

It was finally the day for the semi-finals and Eren is back in the arena to face the Hizuru Gliders.

And to his luck, Hizuru’s women’s volleyball team are also in the same arena for the event.

His mind was on the team captain of Hizuru’s women’s volleyball team until he saw you.

Bent in front of the vending machine to get your, probably strawberry milk, unaware of his presence.

Unaware that you just gave him a great view of your pink colored panty clad cunt.

His eyes trail to your silky-smooth legs and to the fluffy pink socks and heavy looking white boots.

But he did not let his eyes linger on you and decided to check his phone just before you turned around to see him.

You blink not quite processing who is in front of you.

“Hey.” He breaks the silence.

“Eren!” You gasp. “Wha-what are you doing here? Aren’t you suppose to be stretching? The game before you is about to start their second set.” You clutch the straps of your bags nervously.

“I’ve got time.” He says casually, not looking up from his phone.

“Oh.” You say.

He finally looks up when he sees you hastily opening your bag and clumsily hands him a Tupperware with the cutest furoshiki wrapped around it. It’s got bunnies and carrots in it.

And it kinda reminds him of you.

“It’s honey lemon!” You beamed at him. “I heard that it’s good in replenishing ene-” You swallow the rest of your words when Eren casually brushes a knuckle on the side of your boob.

He eyes you, watching and waiting for your reaction.

When you set your eyes downcast as you bite your lip, your thighs brushing against each other, he immediately grabbed your hand.

The locker room.

What a cliché.

But it’s not like you’re not used to it by now. You’ve been doing it in locker rooms since college.

You groan in protest when he slams your back on the bench and bruised your lips with a hungry kiss. Your fingers dig on his shoulders as he presses his thumb on your pearl.

A thin thread of saliva connects your lips when you break the kiss when he sticks two fingers in you, not even bothering to take off your cotton panties as he goes knuckles deep inside you.

“Too much?” He taunts.

With your face all scrunched up adorably, you remain stubborn and shake your head.

Eren flashes you a boyish smile, making your heart pound.

His tip brushes on your slit and finally finds your entrance.

“We’ll get you plan b, later. Okay?” He kisses your temple.

You squeeze your eyes shut when he sinks himself into you.

Eren’s lips part, his cheeks tinting in red.

A few tears leak out and slide on your chubby cheeks.

He was always big for you. It did not matter how soaked you are, Eren is just too big for you.

Eren let you hook your arm on his neck as he pulls out, leaving just the tip and he plunges right through.

He swallows your scream, knowing that it was coming. He loved listening to your sobs that hitches with every thrust.

And your slick, the scent of it is making his head spin.

It was all because of him, isn’t it?

Only he could ruin you like this.

That thought was his drive to pound you incessantly.

He was insatiable.

And you let him, you just lie beneath him and take all he gives you.

But you can only stare at him in amazement as he gets off you after stuffing you full, some of it even leaks out between your puffed lips.

Eren cracks his neck and strides to your bag in his full naked glory, you watch him pick up the Tupperware that you dropped earlier and he helps himself with the honey lemon, his shoulders relaxed and his expression calm.

A complete contrary to you whose body is still burning up, pulse spiked, and pupils all dilated with lust with your chest heaving.

“I need to go.” He says while licking his fingers, the same fingers that were inside you moments ago.

Eren hands you the Tupperware and his honey and slick coated hand curls on your nape to pull you in for a brief kiss.

You ignore the stickiness of his fingers and focus on the kiss. He tastes sweet like the honey and of you.

“That was delicious, thank you.”

Which one he was talking about, you can only guess.

You stand up from the bench. The sight of it was awful but it tickled your tummy anyway. Still, you grabbed your tissue from your bag and wiped it like the good girl you are.

Eren watches you do it and waits for you to finish.

Almost startling you, Eren reaches for your behind and fixes the edge of your panty.

“Make sure it doesn’t spill so it won’t stain your pretty skirt, alright?” He says while straitening your skirt. “We’ll get you a pill later. Meet me in the parking lot.”

You shy away from his intense gaze and you nod as you don’t trust your voice at the moment.

Eren pats your head and turns to the door.

“Wait for at least a couple of minutes.” He looks at you from his shoulder and you nod at him once more, eyes all wide and glassy, like an innocent little bunny.

The door shuts and you are left standing there inside the locker room, your neck and chest littered with a constellation of Eren’s kisses, and your panty soaked through uncomfortably.

But Eren did take care of you, didn’t he? He was kind, just now.

You skip to your bag with the brightest smile that could put the sun to shame.

With every ticking second, you shiver with the ghost of Eren’s touch. Squealing like a teenage girl.

On your way to the court, your skip has added spring to it, your smile still present on your glossy lips, something that you had to redo in the powder room after Eren ruined it.

But just as you finally find your seat, you are washed with apprehension.

Eren was at the side of the gym, laughing with Mikasa.

It was simply a conversation they are having, nothing to fret over.

Yet your fingers start to pinch the skirt that Eren fixed for you earlier.

A tiny frown plays on your brows when Mikasa almost doubles over after Eren whispered something to her and you did not miss how she smacked Eren’s chest playfully. And her touch lingers there.

Quickly, you chase the thoughts away from your head when Eren’s game finally starts.

Like usual, you cheer him on. Trying to make him hear your voice. But today, you did not get any acknowledgement from him.

That’s okay. Eren is just like that.

It was always one step forward, two steps back with him.

You have been waiting in the parking lot for over an hour, most of the cars have left already and your legs are getting tired from standing.

Eren was probably caught up in the meet and greet.

One of which you did not go to as you already gave him the honey lemon earlier.

Fast and heavy footsteps echo around the parking lot and you whip your head to see Eren running to your direction. He slumps in front of you, struggling to catch his breath.

You tilt your head to look at him better.

“Eren, did you run all the way here? You could have just walked.”

He looks at you and the way you grabbed your hanky from your bag to dab at his sweaty forehead.

“There’s no time.” He straightens up, lightly slapping your hand away, making you frown for the second time that day.

“What do you mean? Are you in trouble? Is there any way I can help?” You babbled, concern lacing your sweet voice.

Eren grimaces shortly and sighs, finally straitening up. “I kinda.” He scratches his head. “I kinda offered to drive Mikasa to her hotel.”

And he needs you to leave.

Right now.

“Oh.” Your eyes fall to your boots.

Three steps back.

“She uh, she’s gonna be here any second.” He says, a bit of annoyance leaking to his tone.

It was getting more and more difficult to be in his presence as your chest tighten and tighten with each passing second.

You flash him a quick smile. “I understand.”

His expression loosens as he lets out a silent breath of relief.

“I’ll go ahead then.” You bow to him and turn on your heel.

And like raindrops sliding against a window pane, your tears leave a wet trail on your cheeks.

The green signage from the emergency exit door was easily visible in the dark.

And just as you closed the door, you hear the elevator open.

Before you could take one step, your knees buckle and you collapse on the stairs.

Your breath comes out shaky and tears start to blur your vision.

Why is it so difficult to love him?

You go home all soaked in the pouring rain that night.

Blindly, you reach for the light switch. It took a second for you to adjust to the brightness, you had to blink away any remaining moisture.

Sighing, you slip off your dripping wet boots.

After a warm shower, you help yourself to a hot cup ramen. And it was only acceptable for you to finish an entire tub of Ben & Jerry’s while watching Letters to Juliet.

You sometimes wonder why you even bother with him. Eren Jaeger is a selfish jerk. Of course, you always knew that but this time, he just went too far.

By Eren’s next event where him and a couple of guys from his team were promoting a line of athletic footwear. Their fans were all gathered, watching them do photoshoots on the otherwise normal crosswalks and gyms.

One of his colleagues stands next to Eren and waves at their fans, flashing them his blindingly white teeth. “I don’t see your girl, Jaeger.”

“You need to be more specific.” Eren says through a small smile he just put up.

“Damn!” The guy laughs. “I meant that one who wears those sugar baby outfits.”

Eren’s jaw clenched but he forced out a bitter chuckle anyway. He takes off his sunglasses and eyes the man beside him. He stares the man down, almost daring him to open his mouth again.

“You fucked her yet?” He continues, much to Eren’s dislike. “I bet you did.” He licks his lips. “Bet her little pussy’s as sweet as she looks.”

Crack!

“Oh shit!” The asshole, as Eren decided to call him, wheezed while looking at the broken sunglasses on Eren’s curled fist. “Hit a nerve? Sorry man.” He pats Eren’s shoulder and strides off.

And to think that people admired that man.

It’s not about hitting a nerve, it’s just about him being plain disrespectful.

Or so Eren tried to convince himself.

He’s not that distressed because of you.

In his next event, another no show.

A bit disappointed, Eren notes your absence in their championship match.

It was unsettling for him, not hearing your voice in the crowds, especially since it was a game against the Marley Warriors.

He tried to casually scan the seats, trying to spot your familiar face in the crowd. But he can’t find you anywhere.

“Eren! You’re up.”

He glances at the ball that was rolled to him.

Deafening screams fill the arena and he usually revels in it but he’s a little occupied as of the moment.

Absentmindedly, he does his routine and dribbles the ball four times, looks at the other side of the court and lifts the ball within eye level and Eren stands still and he waits.

The referee whistles for service.

One

Two

Three

His heart is loud and it pounds in his ears.

Four

Five

Six

The screams were all blending together. He can hear everything and nothing all at once.

Fweee!

Eren lowers the ball and looks at the referee.

Delay in service.

Fuck!

Eren grits his teeth.

His teammates look at each other. It was unusual for them to see their ace spacing off, especially in such crucial time.

Spike after spike, he misses. Either spiking it out of bounds or against the net.

“Come on, man. We’re in the championship. Don’t fuck it up.” Their team captain says while putting a hand on Eren’s shoulder, which he shrugs off.

“Careful now, you wouldn’t want to be benched, do you? Number 8 is already warming up.”

Eren clicks his tongue. Getting more and more annoyed every minute.

“Lucky! Let’s score another point, team!” He hears Galliard yell from the other side of the net.

Like hell Eren’s gonna let that happen.

He searched the crowd for anything that was pastel in color for a quick reset. It wasn’t the person he wanted to see but the heart-shaped balloon did remind him of you and it’ll make do for now.

Eren scored three consecutive points after he gathered himself together.

The rallies that followed were heated. Nobody was willing to let the ball drop in their side of the court.

Their thighs were burning and felt like it was about to split in two but they pushed through. In the fifth set, they reached a deuce and the score reached up until 20s.

But like every protagonist, as Eren is so convinced that he is one, he gets them out of the pinch. Porco and Reiner were looking glum when Eren spiked the last ball just centimeters away from their hands after they dived for it.

They won. Paradis won.

He looked at them from above but he cannot bring himself to take pleasure in their victory. It was a close match, and he is partly aware as to why he performed poorly in the first few sets.

Eren pried himself out of his team’s embrace.

He ignored their calls.

As soon as the awarding ended, he went straight to his car, slamming the door close, almost breaking the windows.

Eren’s phone pinged in what seemed like a speed of a hundred times per second, his eyes flit from one account to another until he just threw it in the passenger seat out of frustration.

The steering wheel thumped when he smacked it with his fists. One hand then went to cup his jaw.

He can’t be that thrown off his game just because of your absence, can he?

If he is, then he’s fucked.

A knock in his window made him jump.

And the person from the other side of the glass was also startled with his reaction. Hastily, he lowers the window.

There Mikasa stood, clutching her chest in surprise, her brows drawn together with concern.

“Eren. You left this.” She hands him the track jacket that he forgot in the bench. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that.

Perhaps he isn’t? But for what reason exactly?

He’s upset that his regular fan isn’t there to cheer him on? How shallow.

“I’m fine. Thanks for this.” Eren raises the jacket and gives Mikasa a weak smile.

“Uhm, you did well.” Eren scoffs at her words. “Had a rough start but you turned the game around anyway.”

Eren only nodded at her, not really in a mood to talk to anybody, not even Mikasa, whom he recently thought he started fancying.

“Is this about your fan?” She asked reluctantly.

He looks at her.

“You probably don’t have to think too much about it. The internet just liked exaggerating every little detail, you know.” Mikasa waves a hand off.

But he hasn’t even read a single article nor post yet.

“You’re right.”

She is not. He’s just genuinely upset.

“Well, I gotta get back now. The team’s celebrating for winning the championship.” Mikasa smiles.

“Of course. Congratulations, by the way.” Eren grinned, but his eyes remain dull.

Mikasa grins back at him, her eyes all bright. “Thank you! See you, Eren!” He watches her jog back to the elevator.

She really was pretty, wasn’t she?

But your soft features cloud his mind all the same.

It was not difficult not to miss you when you were always there.

Now that you aren’t, it’s making him feel weird.

Eren fought with himself whether to go check his phone. His leg bounces, eyes flitting to the device.

“Oh, fuck it!” He reaches for it, rough fingers tapping on icons, scrolling through his notifications and messages.

But nothing from your account at all.

Your last post was from his last match, the one where he ditched you for Mikasa.

He slapped his forehead at the memory. He was such an asshole.

But that post was from a couple of weeks ago.

You would’ve at least posted something.

Something’s up with you. From what he recalled, your family lives overseas, and you don’t even post anything about your friends. You could be ill with nobody around to check on you.

The engine revs, almost roaring in the quiet parking lot.

He remembers it all too well, where you lived. He dropped you off once when you twisted your ankle after a fan meet.

Eren reaches for a white cap in his glove compartment, putting it on as he steps into your apartment building.

“2-A. 2-A.” He whispers over and over.

Soon enough, he is face to face with a pastel green door with ‘2-A’ written in gold painted metal on it.

He raises his hand to knock but hesitates just before his knuckles manage to tap against the wooden door. What if you aren’t even there? Or what if you are? What would he even say to you?

“Ahh!” Came a muffled shriek from behind the door.

His heartbeat doubled at the sound and his knuckles were rapping against the door.

“Just a moment.” Called your sweet voice.

He hears soft footsteps and the door being unlocked and there you are, he first saw your fluffy socks with your bunny slippers, you’re dressed in comfortable short shorts and his jersey from college. He remembers how he gave it to you after he popped your cherry.

His ears visibly redden.

“Eren.” You say, surprised. “What are you doing here?” You ask, tucking some of your hair strands that fell from your bun, anxiety clearly painted on your expression.

“I uh.” He’s making himself look stupid. “I didn’t see you in the game.”

You sigh. “Does it matter?”

Of course, it does.

“I guess.”

Silence follows and the both of you steer away from the gaze of the other.

You chew on your lip and closed the door slightly. “Are we done here? I’m kinda busy.”

Eren chuckled bitterly. “I did not drive all the way here just to be kicked out.”

To his surprise, you glare at him. “I never asked you to come here.”

He was taken aback. “The fuck are you so mad for?” Your glare sharpens. “I was just worried you might have slipped somewhere and couldn’t get up.” He seethes at you.

Is he an amnesiac? Has he forgotten that he lost any right he had on you the moment he asked you to leave just so he could drive Mikasa to her hotel?

“I had a pregnancy scare!” You scream at him.

Pregnancy scare?

Did you not take emergency pills after-

Shit.

In an onslaught of emotions after hearing what you just said, his hand slammed against the door, startling you. “And you didn’t think to fucking tell me?”

Crystal tears fill your waterline, making your lashes prettier than they already are. “I was scared! You already hate me and I don’t want you to think that I was baby trapping you.”

Eren wanted to punch himself on the gut.

You’ve been scared all this time, with no one to turn to.

And here he was, making you feel more awful than you are already feeling.

“Hate you? I could never.” Gentle fingers card through your hair. His warm soft lips press on your forehead and he engulfs your frame in a hug. “I’m sorry, baby. I should have been there.”

You break away from his embrace, something that he did not appreciate. He watches you take a step back from him. You wrap your own arms around yourself, as if locking yourself away.

“It’s okay. I never expected you to be there anyway.”

Now, that’s just hurtful.

But it was not like you were lying.

“I’ll do better next time.” He says quickly.

His throat goes dry when you shake your head. “There will be no next times.”

You don’t mean that.

“I’m ending whatever it is that we have, Eren.” You sniff and tried to look at him bravely. “Please leave and I promise to never bother you again from now on.”

You need to take that back.

“Shut up.”

Your brows knit together at his audacity to tell you that in your own apartment.

“Now, listen here-”

“Just shut up for one second, alright?” He yells, not in anger but in desperation.

There is only so much he can take. And everything that is coming out of your mouth is stabbing at him.

Your arms uncross and your lips part when you see his nose turn red and his eyes becoming glassy.

Oh dear.

“Fuck.” He curses.

There are a lot of masks that Eren wears, you have come to notice. It is different for every kind of people he meets. You have seen them all after being by his side for years, despite his obliviousness to your presence.

But right now, he seems to have forgotten to wear one.

Carefully, you push open the door just a little wider. “Would you like to come in for a glass of water?”

He glares at you and heads inside without needing more convincing. It was cute how he tried to accuse you of making him feel that way with that single look. You covered your mouth as you watched him enter your apartment.

You were the one who’s supposed to be mad.

You catch him looking around your apartment before taking off his shoes.

“Are you looking for something?” You ask after passing by him to get that glass of water.

He isn’t far behind you. “A shrine for me or something.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You clip.

Eren eyes you silently, watching you fill a glass with water. You hand it to him and he accepts it without a word.

You sigh. “You can see yourself out once you’re done with that.” You grab your oven glove when your timer beeps.

“What happened to your elbow?” He asks, trying to sound nonchalant, as he picks up a framed picture of the two of you in college. It was the one you took after they won their spring tournament championship.

“Just a cooking burn. I uh, I was making tempura before you arrived.”

It must be nice to have a warm dinner waiting for him when he comes home.

He watched you move around your kitchen so comfortably. This must be where you make those gifts for him.

“Didn’t have your cookies for a while now.” He muses.

You slam the baking tray on the table. “Can you just get to the point?”

Eren puts down your scrunchie that he found lying around. “Have you gotten tired of me?”

He watches how you roll your eyes.

“Are you sure you aren’t pregnant? This kind of attitude coming from you is weird.”

An image of you all round because of him flashes in his thoughts. You’d definitely make a good mom.

Your mouth parts. “Don’t even joke about that!”

Quickly, you turn your back to him and busy yourself with the freshly baked cinnamon rolls.

You jump when you feel his arms circling your waist, his large warm palms placed flat on your belly.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. I wouldn’t mind it so much if you were pregnant.”

“Eren?”

He hums in response.

“Did you hit your head or something?”

“What?”

“You are acting very strange right now.”

He blinks his eyes open.

“At least ask me out on a date first.” You giggle.

He chuckles and nods. "Yeah, I like the sound of that."

You lean back on him and he sways you gently. “By the way, your 8 second violation was lame.”

Eren kisses your nape. “Somebody messed up my serving routine by being absent.”

“How horrible of them.”

"So, you watched the game after all?”

Nodding, you point at your flatscreen. “Of course, I did. From there.”

“You cheered for me?"

You smile, "Definitely. After all, I'm your number one fan."

Prequel: Cherry Flavored Kisses

#eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #attack on titan

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icosaur · 1 year

Text

Lascivious aftertaste

Ghost x FemReader one-shot

smut, mentioning of sexual stimulants, unprotected vaginal sex, mutual pinning type of thing, no y/n mentioning

3k words

summary: a cookie with a side of cock🤚

~~~

Even though a tight-lipped lieutenant byname equally as mystique as the person it belonged to - Ghost, didn't do anything in particular to deserve heart eyes, his, camouflaged by constant serious demeanor charisma could be felt through the walls if he wished for it to be so, which was still a rare occurrence. Through the silly jokes, he was carefully letting his guard down from time to time in a circle of proxies, having no fear of showing his real personality sealed up by a series of disturbing events happening throughout his life.

Sometimes, sometimes it was a different person, which never failed to surprise you or other members of the team he was the head of. Exactly the personality that he let slip carefully and little by little in person made you admire him not only as the leader but as the man outside of the workfield as well. There was adoration and something else, something more potent that you tried to put an end to. Still, being unfortunate to do so - you let yourself gingerly stare at him ever so often, imagining some blush-granting scenarios known to you only.

A crush, that's what it was. As simple as that. What wasn't unsophisticated - was the man this crush was directed to. A walking enigma, that's what he was. As time went by, sending you mixed signals wasn't an infrequent incident, but no matter how hard you tried, you failed to perceive their intended meaning. If there even was an intentional value to his actions.

Sly, scrutinized glances thrown your way between-times were confusing enough to be tentative of the hidden messages behind them. Again, what if this was your way of comprehending the situation, and there was nothing besides your delusion? Not to ruin the already stable platonic relationship with your little dreams - the decision to leave it like this was made, despite absolutely hating leaving things incomplete.

"Oh, a cookie!" the delicious-looking confectionery was wrapped in some kind of see-through plastic envelope the size of the product it contained. A repetitive pattern of green and red polka dots decorated the outer side of the wrapping. Small enough dots were revealing the product inside - a round shaped, the size of a palm cookie had frosting on top of it: a Christmas tree. Under the tree was a phrase written in cursive, red letters.

"Happy Christmas ;)" a winking face summarized the innocent design.

Finding a Christmas-themed cookie before Christmas could be a coincidence, but not this time; obviously left there as a little surprise for the first one to find by someone else on the base on the eve of the holiday. Just before your hands took the cookie, inspecting the glazed, shiny drawing, Ghost appeared in the same kitchen on the base. Walking you by with his eyes glued to the back of the figure standing near the table, he spread out the weary body on the sofa.

"What is that?" his gaze inspected your inquired face over the shoulder.

"Gaz probably decided to leave little treats for us again," you returned the glance, "remember last year?"

Last year, for Christmas, your teammate named Gaz receiving the captain's Price approval - hid small gifts all over the base to be found randomly, hoping to uplift the spirit after numerous troublesome tasks.

"Again," out of earshot, a scoff followed the words once Ghost relaxed his body on the same sofa, focusing on some comedy show the TV broadcasted.

"I mean," having a little idea of sharing the cookie with Ghost as a sign of expressing respect, you made your way to the couch slyly, "I like this idea, why not?"

Disregarding the additional text on the backside of the packaging, the cookie was quickly unwrapped and broken in half, distorting the enameled drawing on it. The bigger half served on your palm reached out to the man once your body silhouette appeared next to him sitting with your legs crossed, planting a confused look on his face. After a second of silent negotiations inside his head, his fingers hooked up the edge of the cookie, accepting your offer. Pulling the mask up and leaving it scrunched on his nose, never taking his eyes off you already tasting the treat, the cookie appeared between his lips as he bit off a small chunk of it. Making sure the flavor was to his liking, another bite was taken. Then another and another. Same with you. Simply savoring the pastry in silence for a while, you also enjoyed the company of your L.T.

"Does it taste fine to you?" all of a sudden, a question hovered over you as his eyes, with a hint of concern, inspected the presented by you cookie between his fingers. A second of silence once you swallowed the remains of it and wiped the corners of your mouth to ensure no crumbs were on your lips.

"Yeah, why?" you shook your hands off and jammed them in your armpits, as the last bit was chewed behind your cheek while you watched him hesitate to finish the cookie for a while.

"It's just," his velvety voice slightly hitched as he spoke, "I don't know, a strange aftertaste," Ghost was visibly confused, like he was trying to understand what exactly was off.

Just a bit later, feeling the twirling sensations in your stomach, you agreed to the fact it was weird.

"Maybe it was expired?" the twirling inside got stronger, speeding up both of your breathing simultaneously. Giving you an annoyed look in reply to the fact you fed him an expired cookie, the last part of it stayed untouched in his grasp. Guiltily shrugging, you started to worry; it was your fault you both felt unwell. Ghost sit up straight, clearing his throat with quiet coughing, feeling the temperature in the room arise, wreathing both your bodies to the same extent.

Looking around hectically, not realizing what in the world was happening, you grabbed the crinkled-up plastic wrap left on the coffee table to locate the expiration date with your darting eyes but found a little disclaimer under the compounds of the pastry instead.

"Fuck.." with your hand covering your mouth, you glanced at the man, whose chest was rising up and down, unable to hold the heavy breaths inside. Just now, you noticed the pillow covering his lap. He returned a concerned look, blinking excessively.

"What?" a question was exhaled as his hand rubbed the back of his neck.

"Warning! This aphrodisiac cookie should be only consumed by legal adults. Consume carefully, or not ;)," reading the disclaimer out loud, you just now realized what you two ate. Feeling the embarrassment fill your face with a reddish tint, your head fell low to hide the apparent fluster. The usual solidity of the gallant lieutenant was loosened, as the ardor, ignited by a substance alleged to increase sexual desire was storming inside his warmed-up body, as the realization of you being equally as turned on as he was at the moment seeded it's way into his consciousness.

"How long does it last?" trying to stay calm, his voice adopted some rasp to it after yet another throat-clearing cough. His body tensed up so hard he turned into a living statue.

Noticing his softer-than-usual eyes inspecting you up and down, shifting on the other side of the couch, wiping the sweaty hands on the pants covering your legs, made you even more embarrassed for cluelessly creating a stupid situation like this. Deciding it's better to flee and calm down far away, you turned to face the man. His lips parted, chest still rising up and down visibly.

"I don't know. I guess I'll go," squeezing your thighs together and hoping it stayed unnoticed, you stood up, keeping your eyes down.

"Yeah, me too," Ghost stood up at the same time as if he was waiting for you to proceed with something first. Little did you know, he waited for an affirmative sign from you but received an obvious decline in reply.

Still keeping the pillow at the crotch level, he appeared in front of you, stagnating in the same place. Not realizing he blocked the way for you and trying to hurry out of the forced closeness, he tripped over the coffee table, knocking you down with his weight. The back of yours met the soft surface of the couch with a little yelp escaping your throat at the suddenness. A considerable figure hovered over not to smother you to death. Your breathing now mixed as you watched him with wide eyes, trying to read the emotion and thoughts his gaze was projecting. As soon as your brain registered the fact that he was closer than ever, the stimulated heat between your thighs grew stronger. His explicit erection poking your thigh made matters worse, more intense. The change in his eyes was more visible as they darted between your eyes and lips.

The overwrought filled you both up to the brims, and holding back was an impossible torture neither of you could deal with anymore. Simultaneously leaning in, the distance was closed as your lips connected in a passionate, longed for kiss. Your hands rushed to hold onto his neck as his hands worked their way all over your shaking, excitated body. Merged groans jumbled with intoxicated wet sounds of your mouths connecting and disconnecting filled the vicinity, not caring enough to be caught. As a matter of fact, this just doubled the effect. Groaning heavily, he couldn't get enough of the sweet taste his lips were devouring. Legs, wrapped around his waist, forced your hips to thrust forward to grind against his crotch, what he took as a sign to proceed. Sliding his hands under your shirt, he squeezed your breasts, feeling the erect nipples with his thumbs. Swiftly undoing your pants, he pulled them off erratically; the arousal scent coming from you poisoned his already cloudy consciousness even more. His hands shaky once they touched your hips, grabbing a handful of your skin painfully.

"I can't wait anymore," your hands rushed to undo his belt, not breaking yet another messy kiss, creating strings of saliva between your mouths. Leaving the pants to hang on his thighs, he let his swollen dick out of the fabric entanglement. Standing on his knees, with his head thrown back, you watched him stroke his raging erection several times. As soon as his eyes locked onto you - there was no way back. The ominous gaze of his was projecting devilish hunger. The hunger he could only pacify by jerking off to an image of you in his mind in the shower. The desire was pending up more and more every time, and finally, his filthy dreams came true. Your exposed, needy for him body before his eyes wasn't enough to nourish the heated lust engulfing him entirely. He needed to feel you, to touch you, to kiss you - anything that meant being close, nearer than usual.

Roughly pulling you in by your thighs closer to him, he glanced at you one last time in case you changed your mind. Seeing the lower lip squeezed between your teeth, how your back arched and hips wiggling in agitation, there were no unnecessary doubts - you two wanted each other more than ever.

"Please, Simon, fuck me already," all the emotions and feeling he had suppressed this whole time, scared of being rejected by you, were spilling out of him with inhumane force hearing your begging. Spreading your legs wide open after quite literally ripping off your soaked panties, he positioned himself at your aching hole waiting to be destroyed. You imagined him naked a couple of times before, but his size was much bigger than you expected. Sliding fully into your warm pussy wrapping around him tightly, made him growl against your covered with goosebumps neck. Vibrations left on your skin were doubling this man's effect on you. Like an animal, wild desire took over his blurred mind. Pounding the last bits of sanity out of you, like it was his last day on Earth, the tip of his dick almost reached your cervix, sending shockwaves of satisfaction with each tearing-apart push. Unable to produce any sounds, your mouth fell agape as the frown on your face forced your eyes shut. Shifting on the couch from the force he was shoving himself deeper in your overstimulated body with, you held onto his shoulders tightly, not to slide off the same couch. Thrust after thrust made your head fall back as much as it could, almost hanging off the edge of the sofa. Starving for some sexual closeness, the man was besmeared with lust which was doubled by your equally as starved self. The whimpers and almost inaudible moans were feeding his ego a little too much. Realizing the issue he was causing by thrusting so hard that your head was dangling already, another idea popped up.

Tearing himself away from your neck, he pulled out his moistened with your liquids dick. Watching your confused face as to why he stopped, his hand roughly grabbed you under your thigh to flip your body like it was a feather. Propping you on your knees by your hips, his knee separated your legs again, gifting your throbbing clit some attention in the form of circular motions, with his index and middle finger wet with the fluids dripping down his hand. Pushing your head deeper between the pillows to muffle the moans, he scooted closer, and after he positioned his tip at your entrance, he forced himself inside fully again. Destroying you both from inside with his cock and outside with his fingers, the pleasure was too much to handle adequately. Already overstimulated from that goddamn cookie, the orgasm washed over you with such vigorous intensity it forced the tears to form, wetting your eyes and cheeks quickly as the tears were smudged by the pillows. Feeling and seeing you squirt all kinds of fluids all over him, he went harder, slapping his lower abdomen against your ass with deep thrusts.

"Fucking hell, you are dripping all over me," some of the thrusts were so forceful you had to press your hands to the armrest of the couch to prevent your head from hitting against it. Your legs were giving up at this point, so his huge hands grabbed you by your waist to keep forcing you to fit the entire length of his twitching dick inside, rubbing on your sensitive from friction walls with the girth appurtenant his cock. Due to your body relaxing, his dick accidentally slipped out a couple of times; he grabbed your leg under the thigh and held it securely, leaving it hanging off his forearm, for him to penetrate you again. He watched himself disappear in your worn out at this point pussy, seeing the veins appear around his wet length engorged with streaming bloodflow.

"You're taking me so well, hold on a little bit more," some incoherent babbling, knowing he's close due to you spasming on his cock in addition, his voice stuttered, as well as his hips. Slowing down because the tiresome got ahold of his body already as well, he managed to push a couple more deep thrusts, tearing your sore walls, before he pulled out and released his cum all over your ass with a loud, shameless groan, scarring his throat with the hoarseness. The last bits of fluids flowing out of you dripped down your thighs as your legs finally gave up, and your stomach plopped on the couch underneath. Immediately, you felt some type of fabric wipe the semen off your body. Leaning on your shaky elbows, you managed to turn around and see the now maskless man use his mask to clean the mess up. His hands snaked around your waist, helping you get up to disappear from the kitchen unnoticed; some soft kisses were left on your neck again as his eyes never left your face. Thanks to the night-time, the intercourse stayed a secret for only two of you to know of.

Strolling on wobbly legs from Ghost's room the following early morning, your hearing picked up rustling sounds coming from the kitchen. Your gaze fell upon Soap, looking through the stuff in the kitchen when his attention was brought to you entering the range of vision.

"What you looking for?" the question assisted as the conversation starter, curious about what he was searching for so thoroughly.

"Have you seen a Christmas biscuit anywhere?" he stood straight, forming a round shape with his hands repeating the form of the thing he was looking for, "I forgot it here yesterday and I can't find it now."

Speechless, your eyes widened slowly, blinking as a silent reply. The grip on the cup you were holding, became stronger, as a recollection of the last night bloomed in your memory. Unexpectedly strong effect of the aphrodisiac provided a couple more rough rounds, but in Ghost's room, therefore having no fear of being as loud as your heart desired; and discovering each other's kinks was the highlight of the night.

"No, I haven't. Maybe someone took it," a shrug and poor excuse were all you could give him. Clearly disappointed, he leaned on the table with his other hand on his hip.

"Tsk, I wanted to prank Ghost with it," biting his lower lip in annoyance, he whispered, making sure no one else could hear his failed plan.

"Prank Ghost?" playing along not to give away the actual reason for the sudden disappearance of the cookie, you whispered back curiously.

"Yes, it's an aphrodisiac cookie," he chuckled, "well, I guess whoever ate it had a great time," slapping his thighs with both hands, he shrugged defeatedly and walked out of the kitchen, passing you by. Your eyes followed the man leaving the room, and there you were - flustered and fighting back the smile appearing on your face against your will.

Who would've known - one cookie solved a whole misunderstanding.

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 8 months

Text

how things worked out

Bucky Barnes x Reader

a/n: this is a prequel to a mini series I will be writing called Invisible String.

summary: looking back at your past relationship with steve rogers and how it led to finding the love of your life - life is funny, isn't it?

The post office was packed, no surprise there. People carrying packages that range from hefty to manageable in their arms. The air was stuffy but that was to be expected inside a government facility. The slow shuffling of the line would have been a nightmare for an impatient person, but you were fine just waiting in line. You needed to get the small package out as soon as possible and if that meant waiting eons, then that was that.

The package in your arm wasn’t the usual boring brown; you had opted for one of the festive boxes that the post office offered. It was blue with colored polka dots with a printed faux light blue ribbon around it. It was cute and the contents inside of it was even more adorable – three pairs of onesies in various colors, a small blue beanie and the cherry on top, a toddler sized newspaper boy cap. Oh, it was precious when you saw it at the baby boutique and knew Steve would die when he laid is eyes upon it.

Steve Rogers.

Damn that man for being so wonderful.

The thought of him made you smile, when for a long time, it crushed you. The mere thought of his existence in the world, knowing he was off being great without you at his side, paralyzed you. When all the years you spent with him didn’t matter in the end, at least that’s how you felt. Now, ten years older and so much wiser, thinking of Steve made you realize how great life was. How grateful you were to have had the time with him, even though the relationship ended badly. It was all over the tabloids of your mind; the memories and tears, the fighting and the loving…

“Come dance with me.”

“Everyone will see,” you laughed, fully aware of the crowd of people. The two of you were at a farmer’s market and a band was playing near the food stands. Lights were hung over the trees, illuminating the night with its softness. Steve, so boyish in the face, just smiled and held out his hand. He didn’t care and if he didn’t care, why should you? So, you took his hand and shyly allowed him to bring you to the dance floor. No one else was dancing, but he pulled you into his body as if in a bedroom; one hand around your waist, while the other held your hand against his chest. Your head rested against his shoulder; hand slipped up his back as the music swirled in the air. In that moment, the people staring felt insignificant. You felt exceptional – the star of the show, with Steve at your side, kissing you on the forehead and both of you wishing the song would never end.

It did though.

“You can’t be serious, Steve…”

His eyes lifted from the ground. “We both know this isn’t working anymore. Bucky’s driving down to help me move out, I want you to have the apartment.”

Hand on heart, you feigned a smile. “Oh, my hero. Always a gentleman.”

“Don’t be like that, come on…. we…” his words drifted, as you two did. It had been six months of really trying to get back to that place of love but falling short at every attempt. “…I can’t live like this anymore, I’m sorry.”

The line moved a person forward and you moved along. Staring down at the package once more, you laughed at the thought of sending your ex a baby shower gift. Who would have thought? After all the years of hating Steve, you grew to appreciate him. Growing older had made you learn some civility and you were able to understand that the two of you were never a happy ending match. The same could be said for him, he was compassionate enough to understand how you felt. He understood that the pair of you were just too young, hadn’t experienced life. That breaking up had been the best thing to do, and you thanked him for his graciousness. That same graciousness allowed him to understand and approve of what would conspire years later between you and his…

“This line is insane.”

The familiar voice, warm and low, brightened the room as you gazed over to man who appeared next to you. Bucky stood there in a thin black dress shirt and dark jeans; he handed over a takeaway coffee cup and leaned in for a kiss. He kissed you twice and took the package out of your hand, so you could take a sip. The coffee was delicious, and you thanked him, nodding to the line ahead.

“We’re going to be here for a while.”

“You sure we need to send this to Steve?”

Bucky was teasing, but you insisted that it be sent today. “We’re already missing the baby shower next week; we need to get this out today.”

“Not our fault they decided to have the baby shower the same week we leave for Europe.”

You smacked his arm with a quiet laugh, and he beamed, wanting to kiss you a dozen more times but the line moved. He settled for staring lovingly at your face as you took another drink of coffee, and he felt his body warm. His eyes flickered down to the package in his arms, and he couldn’t help but wonder how everything ended up this way – not that he was complaining. The breakup between his best friend and you were not amicable, he could never forget how hurt and angry you looked when he showed up at the apartment. It looked like you hadn’t eaten in weeks, eyes red from crying – he wanted to get out of the situation, but he loved Steve like a brother. He also liked you, thought Steve had made a great choice when he brought you around as his girlfriend. Bucky was placing bets that his friend would propose, especially after you two moved into the apartment.

Bucky was sure of it all.

Then he found himself moving Steve’s belongings into a rental truck and driving him back to New York. After that, it had been almost eight years since he last seen you. Until a trip to visit friends in Los Angeles changed his whole world. He never, in his damn life, would have expected you to show up to his friend’s apartment.

Walking in with a friend, wearing professional attire; pleated black pants, half tucked in white blouse. High heels that you quickly took off, leaving them at the door – it was clear you were familiar with the apartment. Hair swept in a low bun, strands framing your face. He watched from the couch, standing up as you moved to the kitchen not even noticing him.

Sam, whose apartment it was, had called for you from the kitchen and that’s why you hadn’t noticed everyone who was over. You grinned at the handsome man when he offered up a beer from his fridge. The two of you had met a few years back when you first moved to LA for a job; he had been a co-worker but eventually left the company. Your friendship continued and now, you were a constant at his apartment.

“I have to introduce to my buddy from New York, picked him up from the airport today.”

Sipping from the beer, your shoulders relaxed after a long day at the office. “James, right?”

“I go by Bucky, actually.”

The familiar voice shook the apartment and when you turned, you hadn’t expected to see Bucky standing in front of you. He stood there sheepishly, not knowing what your reaction would be, but when you placed the beer down and laughed, he relaxed. The two of you approached each other and hugged, a little awkward, but it was nice. Sam, confused, asked if you knew Bucky and you laughed, pulling from the man. You stared up at him and his eyes softened in a way you had never noticed before.

“Yeah, I know him…”

“I hope they like the clothes….”

Bucky guaranteed they would, and you relaxed. He smiled – he did that a lot when you were around. Although, it took some time for him to reconcile with his feelings for you and the fact that you were his best friend’s ex-girlfriend. He had hated the feelings he had, the instant attraction and want that surged through him the moment you walked into Sam’s apartment. Hated that he could feel himself drifting towards you that night at the apartment or how you came around nearly every day he was in town for those two weeks. The first few times, it was group outings; Sam, the others, Bucky, and you. Showing him around the city and then when the others were busy with work, you offered to take him around.

Bookshops, lunches, people watching.

It had been the best two weeks of his life and he knew he was in trouble.

Yet, somehow, it all worked out.

Bucky said your name as the line moved up, he took your free hand and walked forward. You looked at him and he could only grin. “I love you.”

How strange life was; time moving forward – that was all that was certain. Squeezing Bucky’s hand, you smiled back at him. Fascinating, how things worked out. Bucky holding your hand, keeping your heart safe – knowing if it hadn’t been for Steve, the two of you would have never found each other.

“I love you too.”

....

want to be tagged in Invisible String mini-series? Leave comment!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes

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chronicbeans · 1 year

Text

Human Illustrator Wally x Reader (part 8)

Julie owns a childcore fashion line. No, you cannot change my mind. Lol

TW: None that I am Aware of

🐻 A few days pass by. As you read a book to the children of the daycare, you hear the phone ring. You quickly pardon yourself, heading over to answer the phone. To your surprise, Mr. Darling has called, saying "Good morning! My friend, Ms. Joyful, has decided to visit town. She wants to meet you and myself at a nearby restaurant tomorrow. I wanted to know if you would be free at all tomorrow to actually visit?"

🐻 You don't know how to respond. First, you meet Mr. Darling and grow to become... friends? At least, you THINK you are friends. Either way, you believe you have a pleasant relationship with him. Now, THE Julie Joyful wants to meet you? You don't know how to respond! However, you are aware that tomorrow, you have a half day of work, leaving at 11. So, you should be open from 12 PM onward. It would give you time to get home, get ready, and have a small break before leaving again. "I am pretty free. 12 PM and after. Maybe we can meet for dinner?" "PERFECT! I-I mean... that is perfect! That was Ms. Joyful's plan, too! I'll pick you up, if you want?" "You don't have to!" "I want to." "Okay..."

🐻 You give him your address, before returning to the kids. Once the workday is over, you head home and begin trying to pick out your outfit. Oh, golly... You have no idea what would be appropriate for the outing! Ms. Joyful is a FASHION DESIGNER. What do you do?! You are sure that she is nice. She is Mr. Darling's friend, after all, so she must be at least tolerable... But what if you look horrible?!

🐻 You decide to just pick what you think would fit for any occasion: business casual. It has NEVER let you down. You set the outfit out, then go to bed. Once you get home from work the next day, you take a quick shower, put the outfit on, then try to relax until Mr. Darling shows up.

🐻 There is a knock on your door, to which you spring up and answer it. As expected, it is Mr. Darling. He grins, chirping "Good afternoon! Are you ready to go...?" He trails off, his cheeks Turing a bit red. After a few seconds, where he seems to space out, he blinks a bit before chuckling "You look amazing!" You chuckle nervously "Oh, thank you! I am ready to go!"

🐻 You see his car parked outside. It looks nice and cozy, as well as relatively cheaper than you expected. You hop into the passenger seat, chatting happily with Mr. Darling as he drives you to the restaurant. Outside of the building, you see a young woman standing next to her car, checking her hair in the side mirrors.

🐻 Mr. Darling parks the car next to hers, chirping "Hello, Ms. Joyful! I hope we aren't late!" "Wally, how many times have I told you to just call me Julie? Oh, is that (Y/N)?" She turns, her dark skin and dark eyes widening with intrigue. Her blonde hair is rather large, styled in two buns pushed together at the top, almost making it look like a heart. She also is wearing a headband with an orange horn on it, as well as a large, blue worm on a string as a sort of boa. Her clothes, itself, has a very childish aesthetic to it. From a large, pastel rainbow shirt, to a pair of jean shorts covered in patchwork polka dots with teddy bears in them.

🐻 'Darn it, business casual... You failed me.' you think to yourself. You somehow OVERDRESSED. Ms. Joyful, however, goes on to coo "They look adorable in their little outfit! Oh, come inside! I reserved a table for us in the back. That way, people won't swarm us." Mr. Darling laughs "Thank you, Ms- I mean, Julie. Come on, (Y/N), let's go to the table." You quietly nod, not exactly knowing what to say in this situation. Looking at the sign, you see the words "Poppy's Pop-In Diner" at the top.

🐻 You follow Mr. Darling and Ms. Julie to the table, which happens to be a booth. Looking down at the menus that the waitress provides you, you see that the majority of the menu consists of breakfast and baked deserts. There are a few lunch and dinner options, however. The drinks consist of coffee, lemonade, water, chocolate milk, hot chocolate, and a few types of soda. You make a mental note of your order, before turning to look at Ms. Joyful as she speaks.

🐻 "You will absolutely LOVE the owner of this place, as well as the dishes! Her name is Poppy Partridge, and she is just the BEST at her job! Her cakes are so delicious!" Mr. Darling laughs at her enthusiasm. "That's right, Julie. She is also just the sweetest person, too." Poppy...? That sounds familiar...

🐻 You notice how Mr. Darling decided to sit next to you, meaning that you are now trapped within the booth. He looks over to you, noticing your stare, before patting his cheeks slightly "Is... is there something on my face?" You stammer in response, feeling embarrassed for getting caught staring. "Oh, oh no! I just thought you would've sat next to Ms. Joyful, since you two seem to have known each other longer. It isn't anything wrong. I am fine with it." "Oh."

🐻 Oh golly... now you've made things awkward... why do you make everything awkward? Ms. Joyful, however, seems to be enjoying the show, as she laughs so hard you swear she would cough up a lung. "Oh my GOLLY! You two are such cute friends! You two should like... I don't know... Wait... nevermind, actually... I forgot where I was going with my words!" Mr. Darling tenses, before letting out a small chuckle. "Oh, I am sure you will remember soon... Hey, there she is! Hello Ms. Partridge!"

🐻 You look over to where Mr. Darling is looking, seeing a woman with an apron on, as well as a pretty shirt dress. She has a dark complexion, radiating a healthy glow, as her thick, curly hair has been gathered and clipped to the back of her head. It leaves a few strands poking upwards. Her eyes are wide, making her look like a deer in headlights. Then, she seemingly realizes who called her name, chirping with a voice as pretty as a birdsong "Oh, Mr. Darling! Ms. Joyful! It is so lovely to see you two, again! The last time I saw you was... Gosh, how long? When did we film that baking show, again?" "About six months ago, Ms. Partridge!"

🐻 This day keeps getting more and more shocking. First you meet Ms. Joyful, now the baking star, Ms. Partridge? Wait, not even that. You are in her diner! She walks over, her tall figure towering over the table. She seems to take note of that, as she hunches over slightly, possibly to make herself seem smaller. "Who are you, dear? Are you a new friend of these two? A friend of theirs is a friend of mine! My name is Ms. Partridge! Oh, you must know that already! Sorry!" You nervously reply to her question, holding your hand out and shaking hers. "I umm... I am (Y/N)." "Such a lovely name! It seems like your waitress has left you two hanging... Let me take your orders personally!"

🐻 You and the rest of your table order. As Ms. Partridge hurries to the kitchen, Ms. Joyful giggles "She is always in such a rush. Very anxious, too. So sweet, though! She acts very motherly towards everyone. OH! I remember what I was going to say!" She points to you and Mr. Darling, slyly saying "You two should like, have a sleepover, since you two are such good friends! OH MY GOSH! WE CAN HAVE A SLEEPOVER AT (Y/N)'S PLACE AHHHHH!!!!" She excitedly bangs her hands against the table, almost like it were a drum. Mr. Darling coughs, choking on his own spit. "C-calm down! We don't even know if (Y/N) is comfortable with having sleepovers in general. A home is a very... Delicate space for some people. Some don't like their homes being invaded. Privacy, you know?"

🐻 You look between them, feeling charmed by their antics. "I wouldn't mind, it is just that my place is pretty small. I have never held a sleepover-sleepover, before. Not even as a kid. Usually it was more like my friends would visit, then we slept. That was it." Ms. Joyful's eyes widen in horror "You have never had a REAL sleepover?! That is horrible! We must change that! When would you be available to have a sleepover, (Y/N)?" You are taken aback by her determination, before stammering "I don't know... Umm... This Saturday is free. I don't work weekends, luckily." "THEN IT IS SETTLED! WALLY, THE SLEEPOVER SHALL BE SATURDAY!" She raises her hands in the air, continuing "We shall have makeovers, fashion shows, baking, and more! Do you have any allergies, (Y/N)? I have hypoallergenic makeup and baking recipes! Actually, I'll just bring them in case! OH, CAN WE INVITE OUR OTHER FRIENDS?! PLEASE!!!"

🐻 This weekend is going to be long, isn't it? Well, at least you will get to meet these two again. Their chaotic antics are truly a sight to behold. You shrug, looking at the both of them. Mr. Darling seems especially curious as to your response. You nod slowly "Sure. Invite a friend each. I would allow more, but my place is a bit small."

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home au #wally darling #wally darling x reader

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dc418writes · 10 months

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•|Patience is a Virtue Burden|•

✨Pairing✨: coach!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Ari can’t mess this up

⚠️: pretty much all fluff, mention of past hidden pregnancy

*DISCLAIMER!: although collage was made by me, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of photos used as they were all found on Pinterest*

You’d think he was a teenage boy about to ask his crush to prom how nervous he was walking up the short, concrete driveway. Smoothing his hands on the front of his jeans trying to get rid of the moisture starting to form. Just as he reaches the door of the two-story townhouse, he checks his phone - again - making sure you hadn’t changed your mind at the last minute. He’s glad to see the last message is still your address along with instructions to be careful of the neighbor’s dog if it happens to be outside.

“He’s a bit overly friendly and forgets he’s a tank.”

The alarm chimes twice before he hears your voice through it’s speaker saying, “just a minute.” Ari thinks it might’ve been a good idea if he took a minute himself while he was still in the truck. He’s been all over the place since last night when you brought up the idea to meet, barely being able to sleep from his newfound adrenaline boost.

He hopes he doesn’t potentially ruin the day being so eager. Or scare her by coming on too strong.

You either.

Ari hears the clicks of locks as they unlatch and briefly watches the golden knob turn before your body comes into view. Skin glowing with the upper part of your braids in a ponytail while the others freely hang along your shoulders, his heartbeat skips meeting your deep brown eyes. You really had this man in a chokehold all from one night years ago.

“H-Hey.” You sound just as nervous as Ari felt.

“Hey. Uh, havin’ a good day so far?”

“Um yea..I’d say so.”

“That’s good!,” he smiles stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. “Glad to hear.”

“And you?”

He shrugs. “I can’t complain.”

“Good,” you nod with your own warm smile. Both of you hoping this awkwardness wouldn’t continue throughout the day.

He’s just about to ask if you’re ready when footsteps and jingles grow louder as they run up to you hiding behind the ripped jeans covering your legs and knocking you forward just a hair. The bottom, flared hem of a pink dress with white polka dots peeks out from the sides along with shiny, dark curls while little Mari hides her face in the back of your thighs.

And this time, Ari’s breath lodges in his throat while his heart completely stops for what feels like minutes. A heat rising and pulsing his ears watching you bend down to the little girl’s height.

“Hey pumpkin! So remember how I said a while back how Coach Ari is an old friend of mommy’s?,” you sweetly ask. She slowly nods briefly looking up to meet his soft, blue eyes and tilted smile before you have her attention again. “Well I invited him to see the movie with us and hang out for a while. I hope that’s okay?”

It takes a few seconds of silence until she’s whispering something in your ear, and Ari feels his heart begin to sink.

“Hm..I’m not sure, but you can ask him,” you reply standing to lift her onto your hip as you turn back towards the bulky brunette who was waiting with bated breath. “Mari has a very important question she’d like to ask you.”

“Um..yea sure! I’m all ears Mari.”

“Do…D-Do you like mermaids?,” she asks trying her best to speak up, but it still comes out as an adorable whisper.

“Actually I do. In fact I’m pretty sure I met one once.” Her eyes widen with awe making Ari smile harder. “She was very pretty; had the most angelic voice you could listen to for hours. But one day she disappeared.”

His gaze briefly shifts to yours causing your cheeks to warm realizing he just might be referring to you. “Deep down, I always hoped one day she’d come back.”

“I uh think we’re all ready to go now,” you state not wanting to drift down memory lane for too much longer. “I just need to get her car seat and-,”

“I already got one.” His sudden revelation has your eyebrow slightly lifted pausing from adjusting you purse on your unoccupied shoulder. Was he already trying to buy things so he’d be able to take care of Mari? If so, you’re a little surprised by his enthusiasm, yet also feel your heart warm how ready he seems to be for this new role.

“I bought it some time ago since I watch my friend’s son sometimes. He’s the same age so it should be fine. Unless you’d rather bring your own?..”

“No it’s okay. I’m sure yours is good.”

“So, we ready to go?”

You nod stepping outside with your little girl in tow to lock your front door. “Looks like.”

•

Ari doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how Mari was your mini me, but also had so much of him as well.

Her smile. The way her eyes crinkled when she laughed. How meek she was with everyone except those she trusted. It reminded Ari so much of himself when he was a little boy.

He thought he’d melt right there on the spot when she asked for a blue icee - well specifically, a “blue juice”. His own personal favorite since he was young.

She sat in her seat between the two of you like a little adult quietly sipping her drink as her eyes remained on the screen and that alone. The only time she said something was whenever she had to use the restroom or wanted some of your popcorn. Ari felt like a bit of a creep occasionally glancing at her to gauge her reaction to the movie - and just to look at her if he was being honest - but he couldn’t help it. He was entranced and could feel himself getting attached already by his little girl.

His girl. He still couldn’t fully wrap his head around it, but he loved the sound of it.

His eyes were still on her now, carefully watching as she ran around the playground mostly playing by herself as other little ones ran around her.

“Sometimes I think maybe I should have her see someone because she’s so shy. Like it might be something more,” you speak staring at Mari as she slides down the plastic structure to then re-climb the steps and do it again, “but then again, I don’t want her or anyone thinking she’s different, or that there’s something wrong.”

“She’ll grow out of it,” Ari states wiping his hands on the napkin beside him. “Trust me, I was the same way.” You slowly nod getting back to your half eaten fries.

Both of you surrendering to the silence between you not really knowing what to say next. Your guilt was too loud in your mind to try for casual conversation.

“Can you tell me more about her? If that’s too much I-,”

“No, of course not. She’s your daughter too Ari, it’s perfectly fine,” you reply matching his soft smile. “Let’s see…she loves dolls. Her favorite is her babydoll rightfully named Baby. Loves being outside, which is a blessing and a curse. Peanut butter sandwiches and cheez-itz are her go to snack. She’s not a big fan of jelly-,”

“Because of the texture. But let me guess, she’ll eat jello right?”

“Exactly. H-How did you-,”

Ari chuckles to himself scratching his bearded jaw. “The Levinson’s are a peculiar group as my dad would say.” Looks like Mari’s name was fitting in more ways than one.

“And here I was thinking she was my mini me,” you softly chuckle.

“She’s a mini both of us. Which I guess all parents could use to describe their child really..y-you know what I mean though.” Both of you now back to gazing at your little girl, that heavy feeling returns in the pit of your stomach how all this could’ve been so different.

But no. Your head just had to get in the way.

“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m sorry,” you finally speak taking in his model-esque side profile. “Me not telling you wasn’t with ill intent I swear. I-I..”

“Y/N I know. You did what you thought was best. I understand.” His half smile makes his words seem true, but the hurt you can see in his eyes tells a different story. Like he has more to say, but decided to push it away instead of confronting it.

“When do you uh think we should tell her?,” he asks nervously holding his hands together beneath the table. His knee bobbing up and down as well.

“I’m not sure. I don’t want to dump something big like this on her not knowing how she’ll react. She’s young, but still you know?..”

Truthfully it’s not the answer he wanted to hear, but he understood. It’s one thing introducing a stranger into a child’s life, but when said stranger is her long lost father - who didn’t know of her existence until about a month ago - expectantly things could get a bit overwhelming.

“I get it.”

“It’ll be soon though,” you smile placing a comforting hand on his still bouncing knee. It calms him enough to stop, nodding as he meets your eyes, but there’s still that hint of disappointment that makes your curled lips slightly fall.

You couldn’t fault him if he didn’t believe you after what you did. You’d admittedly be leery and expectant of the worse yourself.

Just as you’re lips part to try and get him to reveal his true feelings, you hear a dull thud followed by an “ow” coming from the swings. Ari’s up and beside her just as you round the picnic table gently helping her to her feet as she brushes the mulch from her dress.

“You okay? Anything hurt?,” he asks cautiously looking over her arms and legs making sure he didn’t see any cuts or scrapes. Mari simply shakes her head before attempting to get on the swing again. It’s a bit higher than what she’s used to. “Want me to help get you up there? Or get your mom to help?”

She’s quiet for a moment, seemingly content with lightly moving the rubber seat back and forth before turning to Ari patiently squatting. “Help please.”

Meanwhile, you watch from your seat with eyes beginning to water as your daughter lets her father carefully push her. Getting higher bit by bit, and too young to realize just how profound the one act was for both of them.

A/N: This is a bit of a teaser to an idea I’ve been thinking of for a while that I hope you guys enjoyed☺️✨! Also, I didn’t intend for this to come out on Father’s Day, nor is it specifically Father’s Day themed…but here we are 🤷🏽‍♀️ lol.

#ari levinson #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson au #red sea diving resort #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader #chris evans

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bad-decisionsot7 · 11 months

Text

Their reaction to you being a little.

Jin would come home from work, ready to shower and be with you. he'd be a little surprised when he'd walk in your guys! bedroom and you'd be cuddled up in bed. multiple stuffies held in your arms with a thumb in your mouth. his heart jumped at the sight. "my little baby" he'd quickly shower and then come back, laying in bed next to you. he'd rub your his hand through your hair softly, humming soft lullabies as your eyes fluttered in your sleep, he would have to admit to you tomorrow that seeing you in little space was the cutest thing he'd ever come across.

Namjoon would come home early from work one day, surprising both you and him. he was more surprised than you however because he had walked in on you in your guys' bedroom, a pink sippy cup in your hands as spongebob played on tv. he couldn't deny the jumping his heart did at the sight. you were so adorable, you rubbed your eyes softly, embarrassed. "namjoonie-" he'd cut you off, setting his bag by the door before walking forward towards you, "are you sleepy babydoll? do you want daddy to take a nap with you?" you'd be shocked at his words, unaware that he knew what little space was and knew exactly what to do from now on.

Major daddy material right here. hoseok would find out you were a little by finding you in the store aisle, buying new stuffies, you'd be embarrassed not knowing how to address the situation. thinking he'd freak out, you'd lie, "these are for my sisters baby, i-" he'd cut you off, he'd be confused but understanding. "baby, if you want one i'll get it for you. fuck. I'll buy you as many as you want, just say when." you scowled at his language but nodded eagerly, the night would end with the both of you cuddled up in bed. tons of stuffies, a disney movie playing and a big long talk about little space.

Jimin would be frustrated coming home from work, slamming the door. you'd hear him, not having enough time to take off the cute polka dot onesie you'd recently bought. he'd come in, thinking you wanted to get kinky when in reality, you had just as much of a stressful day as he had. "baby are you-" you'd begin crying and he'd instantly feel bad, walking up to you and wiping away the tears, he'd place a soft kiss on your tear stained cheek, his fingers guiding underneath your chin so you could look up to him. "talk to me angel, what's on your mind?" and for once, instead of holding in your feelings, you'd break down and explain everything to him which he happily obliged to be your caretaker, calling you silly for hiding it from him.

Yoongi would be in full daddy mode at all times. he'd walk in on you in front of your mirror, putting pigtails in your hair while he was supposed to be gone. he'd admire you for a second, looking over at his beautiful babygirl (babyboy) and thinking of how he was ever able to become so lucky. when you'd catch him staring you'd freeze up, not knowing what to say. "sorry, i couldn't help but stare. you look so adorable when you're caught up in your own little world." he'd close the door behind him as he'd walk over to you, placing you on his lap. "go ahead, continue. i wanna watch doll." the fact that he had been so understanding and supportive made you tear up a bit.

Tae would find out you were a little when you'd come home from work early, stressed out and practically falling asleep in your car. he'd come out, seeing you curled up in the driver seat, a thumb in your mouth. you couldn't wait to get inside but you were also extremely tired. walking could wait. he'd be worried, opening the door and carrying you inside. you sucking on your thumb was the cutest thing he'd ever seen, his heart warming at the side. he smiled, his eyes crinkling as he placed you in your guys' bed. when he'd shut the light off and turn to leave, you'd whine softly. "daddy." he'd turn around and you'd be holding your arms out, wanting nothing more than for him to come and hold you. explaining could wait.

Jungkook would smile when he'd come home, seeing you having a pretend tea party with your stuffies. he'd come in, shutting the door behind him. you'd be embarrassed and shocked, instantly freezing up. "i- i-" he'd smile, cutting you off. "can i join this tea party? you know i love tea." he'd tease you, bopping your nose softly. you'd smile, nodding your head as you bit your bottom lip. he'd notice you were still a tad bit nervous as you picked at your nails. "babydoll?" he'd call you and you'd look up over at him, "come over here and sit on my lap, tell me how your day was my sweet baby." you'd feel warm and welcome, you knew he couldn't know much about little space but that was all about to change.

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katsu28 · 1 year

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the harringtons

pairing: dad!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

summary: The Harrington family enjoys a nice autumn day in Hawkins, Indiana.

warnings: so much fluff, two ocs—Maisie, 6 years old, and Nora, 2 years old, steve being the best dad ever

a/n: steve harrington is a total girl dad and i will die on this hill

very sorry for the lack of writing this past month, i've been swamped with school and work and overall just been in a writing slump! pls bear with me for a few more weeks until the end of the semester, i promise i'll get back into posting more regularly after that. love u all! <33

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“Babe, have you seen my glasses?” Steve yelled, rifling through the mess of things in the drawer beside the bed. TV remote, bottle of painkillers, a bunch of hair clips, but no glasses.

Your voice came muffled from somewhere else in the house. “Should be next to the bed!”

“Yeah, I’m looking now, but I can’t find them!” He knew he was wearing them last night before bed, and he definitely remembered putting them on the table when he went to sleep, so where the hell were they?

Before he could look any further, a rattle from the closet made him freeze. Steve’s breath caught in his chest, mind jumping to every worst possible case scenario at what could possibly be lurking behind those doors. His hand curled around the familiar smooth wood of his trusty baseball bat from under the bed, knuckles flexing white on the handle as he inched across the room towards the closet.

He was fully ready to start swinging, ready to protect his home and his family, when he heard…a giggle?

Steve’s shoulders slumped in relief when he realized it wasn’t an otherworldly monster lying in wait, but a smaller, much cuter one, with chestnut locks just like his and a cute nose just like yours. One who liked polka dots and pepperoni pizza and stealing her dad’s slippers in the morning—who probably had his glasses as well.

He flung open the doors on the last word, eyes immediately landing on the pigtailed, gap-toothed little girl sitting cross-legged in the dirty clothes bin, Steve’s too big glasses slipping down the bridge of her adorable nose with every barely contained peal of laughter that shook her tiny shoulders.

“Boo!” Maisie exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air whilst she jumped out at him. Steve feigned surprise, clutching at his chest and falling back against the carpeted floor with a dramatic shout. She scrambled to his side with a gleeful cackle, planting her tiny hands on his shoulders to lean over him. “Did I get you good, Daddy?”

“So good, my sweet. Almost gave your old dad a heart attack.” He nodded, flicking one of Maisie’s pigtails playfully.

“You’re not old!”

“Thanks, Mais, I—”

“You’re super old!” She blurted. Steve gawped at his grinning six year old incredulously.

“I’m super old? Could super old do this?!” He hollered, springing up at Maisie and rolling over so he was the one bent over her now, wiggling his fingers mischievously before digging them into her side lightly. “Could super old be a tickle monster???”

Maisie’s shrieking giggles bounced off the bedroom walls as she attempted to squirm out of Steve’s grasp with no avail, and he'd be lying if he said it wasn’t one of his favorite sounds in the whole universe.

“What in the world is going on here?”

Steve looked up to see you standing in the doorway, Nora propped on your hip as you arched an amused eyebrow at the scene before you. He raised his hands in surrender, giving Maisie the chance to escape from his vicious assault, scrambling over to wrap herself around your leg.

“I scared Daddy!” She said proudly, beaming up at you.

A surprised chuckle fell from your lips. “Did you now?”

“Uh huh! Got him really good too, Mommy.”

“Little gremlin hid in the closet and everything. Even had my glasses too, ‘s why I couldn’t find them.” added Steve, leaning back on his haunches and wiggling his fingers at Nora with a smile. She wriggled around in your arms almost immediately, making grabby hands at her dad until you set her down gently, easing your husband’s glasses off Maisie’s face and placing them atop Nora’s brown curls. You both watched as she toddled unsteadily towards Steve, babbling nonsensically to herself until she was gathered into his outstretched arms.

“Hi, dada,” She mumbled, face-planting into the soft wool of his sweater. Steve smoothed a hand down her back, plucking the silver frames off her head and putting them on before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Well, you, my little troublemaker, are supposed to be getting dressed,” You hummed, stooping down to boop Maisie’s nose. “The faster you do, the faster we can get to the park!”

That definitely enticed her, because her chocolate brown eyes widened and she nodded furiously, peeling herself away from you and bolting down the hallway without another word.

“I’ll take care of this one while you go get ready too?” Steve offered, heaving himself to his feet with Nora’s sticky fingers tangled in his hair. “Ow, shi—shoot, darlin’, what is that?”

“‘S yogo, dada!” She squealed, splaying one hand out on his cheek excitedly. “Strawberry yogo!”

“Strawberry yogurt, huh? I bet it was real good since you got it all over your hands.”

“Oh, she had a blast with it. Painted the kitchen table pink and all.” You chuckled, crossing the room to kiss his cheek, then Nora’s, before hurrying to the bathroom to get ready. “You’re the best, honey!”

By the time you’d finished getting dressed, Steve had corralled the girls to the front entryway, where he was trying to wrangle Nora into her coat whilst Maisie clung to his back not unlike a monkey.

Your heart grew four sizes at the sight of them all. Your family.

Honestly, if you somehow went back in time and told fifteen year old you that one day you’d be happily married to Steve “The Hair” Harrington with two beautiful little girls, you would’ve laughed in your own face. But facing the potential end of the world and almost dying, not once, not twice, but three times really had a way of bringing people together. And even though you’d both been through some pretty terrifying shit (and still had nightmares too), life was good now. Perfect, even. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Maisie’s squeals of laughter pulled you out of your thoughts, refocusing to see that she was now dangling upside down in Steve’s arms as he cackled maniacally. Something bumped into your leg, and you glanced down to see that it was actually someone. A certain, previously yogurt covered someone.

Nora raised her arms at you and you obliged, hoisting her into your arms with a grunt before turning eye to the other two. “Are you two goofballs ready to go to the park now, or do you need a minute?”

“Park.” Maisie nodded solemnly, maneuvering herself upright in Steve’s arms and turning her wide-smiled gaze on him. “Piggyback ride, Daddy?”

“Your legs work just fine, little miss.” Steve narrowed his eyes at her, to which she just smiled even bigger, missing tooth and all. You liked to call it her ‘anything smile’, because when she brought it into play, she could get her poor old dad to do anything she wanted. Case in point. “Oh alright, fine. Gimme a smooch first.”

Maisie gave Steve a sloppy kiss on the cheek that he pretended to wipe off in faux disgust, but he shifted her until she was situated comfortably against his back. “Ready to go now, Mommy!”

You tugged Nora’s knit hat (a handmade gift from Robin for her second birthday that she absolutely adored) down around her ears a little tighter before you all ventured outside.

The brisk autumn air nipped at your cheeks as the four of you made your way to the small park just down the road, leaves crunching underfoot in a swirl of yellows and reds and burnt oranges.

About halfway there, Nora started to wriggle around in your arms, kicking her tiny legs to be put down and start walking alongside you.

“Nora, baby, you gotta hold someone’s hand when you’re walking, okay?” You said, to which she furrowed her eyebrows at you, but eventually nodded. Whether or not she actually understood what you were saying, you had no idea, but you set her down on the sidewalk anyway.

“Mazzie!” She squealed, sticking her hand in the air towards her sister, who was still settled contently against Steve’s back. “Mazzie, hold!”

“See that, monkey? Nora bug wants to hold your hand,” Steve chuckled, squeezing Maisie’s leg until she giggled. “You wanna climb on off of me?” She nodded enthusiastically, to which Steve dangled her until both her feet were firmly planted on the ground. “Careful, you two. Watch the cracks in the sidewalk.”

“I got it, Daddy.” Maisie said firmly, aiming a curt nod at him before taking Nora’s hand gently, which sent the toddler into a fit of excited giggles. “Come on, Nora bug!”

Your insides melted to mush at Maisie using Steve’s nickname for Nora, even more so when she pulled her younger sister’s hat back down from where it was riding up again, just like you were about to do. Your girls were a perfect mixture of both you and Steve.

Steve looped his arm through yours, pulling you close enough to press a kiss to the side of your head, grinning fondly as you watched the two girls amble along in front of you. “We sure do make cute kids, don’tcha think?”

“Pretty sure they got their looks from you, Mister Indianapolis 1972.” You teased, nudging him in the ribs playfully.

“God, I knew I shouldn’t’ve told you about that. I’m never living it down, am I?”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“I was five and my mother forced me into it, babe. I didn’t have a choice!”

“I’m so looking forward to the day I can show those pictures to the girls.”

“You kept them?!?!”

“‘Course I did.” You chirped, grinning cheekily. Steve pouted (very dramatically, might you add). “You had to have known I’d keep those treasures forever, honey. You know me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” He huffed, dragging a hand through his hair. “But payback will come for you. Mark my words. Might go swing by your parents’ house and see what I can dig up. I think your mom would be delighted to help me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, sweetheart.”

“That’s fine,” You shrugged. “I’ll just bring the girls over to Robin and Nancy’s for a little bit sometime. I’m sure they both have plenty of stories from your glory days.”

Steve’s cheeks went beet red, eyes widening in what you could only assume was horror. “Okay, okay, you win. I give up, just don’t—don’t let them traumatize our babies.”

“You’re so cute, Stevie.” You smiled at him sweetly, squeezing his bicep affectionately before pulling away to join the girls as you all entered the park.

Maisie was sure to leave Nora with you and Steve before beelining straight for the play structure off in the distance, instantly scurrying up to the top and waving frantically at the two of you. She’d always been an avid climber of things—just ask Steve and her uncles, who’d all had Maisie the monkey crawling all over them at least once in their lives. And Maisie would never let her dad know, but her Uncle Eddie was her favorite jungle gym. He always let her launch herself at him and hang around wherever, while Steve tended to go more protective dad mode about it all.

Nora, on the other hand, wasn’t too keen on the jungle gym yet, instead opting to toddle alongside you and Steve, picking up random things off the ground every so often and passing them off to her dad. A few pebbles here, a couple pieces of bark there, a fistful of crumbly leaves, Steve’s pockets were full of nature soon enough. Once his were filled to the brim, she started to shove things into her own tinier ones, half of the stuff falling right back out.

“Babe, take some rocks.” Steve whispered, holding out a handful towards you. “Take them, I can’t fit any more in my pockets!”

“You know you can just drop them, right?” You replied quietly, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah I know, but she wants me to hold them!”

“She’s two! She won’t even know they’re gone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Has she ever noticed how her pockets are always empty when we come back to the park?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. “No…”

“There’s your answer then.”

He took a quick gander at his surroundings, glancing down at Nora to ensure that she was paying no attention to him before flinging the rocks quickly into a nearby pile of leaves.

Eventually, Nora gravitated towards Maisie at the play structure, even going so far as taking a few rides down the swirly slide. Meanwhile, you and Steve took a seat on a bench a little ways away, not too close, but near enough that you could keep an eye on them both. His arm quickly found its way around your shoulders to pull you against him yet again, free hand drawing lazy circles on your knee as the two of you fawned over your cute kids like proud parents.

Around noon, you decided it was time to call it a day, as the girls had been playing for almost two hours, and it was almost time for lunch.

“C’mon, kiddos, it’s time to go home!” You called, waving for the girls to come to you and Steve. Maisie obliged willingly, but one look at Nora and you knew she was about to throw a fit. A deep frown curved her lips, brows pinched, nose scrunched, in a way that almost reminded you of Steve’s upset face when you thought of it. “Honey, I think—”

Steve saw it too, instantly setting at a brisk pace towards the girls. “Yep, I’m on it.”

Neither of you got there fast enough to quell the wail that escaped Nora’s mouth, surprisingly loud for such a tiny person.

Maisie clung to your leg, wrapping her arms around your knee with a wide eyed gaze aimed up at you. “Is she okay?”

“I think she’s just a little upset we have to go home now, baby.” You explained gently, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Remember how you used to get really sad before we left the park?” Maisie nodded knowingly. “Dad’s got her now, so everything should be okay.”

“Nora bug, what’s wrong?” Steve cooed, kneeling down so he was eye level with his teary eyed toddler. “Wanna tell dada what’s got you so upset?”

“Don’t wanna go!” She sniffled, lower lip trembling.

“You don’t wanna go home? That’s okay, baby, I know you’re having fun.” He hummed, gently wiping the tears from her rosy cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. Nora burrowed into Steve’s chest with a whimper, clinging to her dad with as much force as she could muster. “Tell you what, if we leave now, we can come back tomorrow and play some more.”

“All day?”

“All day, bug.” He confirmed, stretching out the first word to entice her even more.

She peered up at him thoughtfully as she pondered his proposition, tracing the buttons on his jacket with her fingers. “Pomise?”

“I promise.” That seemed to meet her standards, because she nodded, attempting to shove her way into his arms to get him to pick her up. As soon as he scooped her up, he pressed a smacking kiss to her forehead and she beamed, previous grievances long since forgotten. “All good? Yeah, you’re happy as a clam now, aren’t ya?” She shimmied around in his arms joyously, snuggling right up against him with a giggle. “Crisis averted!”

“Dad saves the day, yet again,” You chuckled, reaching out to tickle Nora’s hand as Steve made his way over to you and Maisie.

He aimed a wink at you, ruffling Maisie’s hair playfully. “Don’t I always?”

“Daddy’s a hero!” She exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes, he is,” You hummed, accepting the hand that she offered up to you. Steve was a hero, in more ways than one. He was your hero, Maisie’s hero—Hawkins’ hero (even if they didn’t know it). Maisie’s other hand held Steve’s all the way home, skipping between the two of you happily.

-------

You and Steve had the after-park routine down pat, jumping right into it as soon as you got home. Nora’s pockets got emptied out on the porch, you threw all the girls’ dirty park clothes in the washer while Steve took them to the bathroom to get them all showered and clean, and then you usually helped finish up with one while he took care of the other.

Only this time, he’d assured you that he had it handled, dropping a kiss to the top of your head before disappearing down the hall with both girls in his arms.

After a while of not hearing the usual splishing, splashing, and squealing, you made your way to the bedroom to see if Steve needed help, only to catch sight of him sprawled out on top of the covers, Maisie tucked against one side of him and Nora tucked on the other, both of their heads resting on his chest. All three of them were fast asleep, looking like your perfect picture of heaven.

Hurrying over to the dresser, you grabbed the camera that Jonathan had gifted the two of you when Maisie was first born, snapping a quick picture of your husband and his squeaky clean girls for the scrapbook you were planning on giving him for Christmas. You snuck out of the room after that, careful to shut the door gently on the way out so you wouldn’t wake any of them.

You were alone for quite a bit, enough time for you to tidy up around the house before starting on lunch for when the girls inevitably woke up hungry. Soft music played from the radio on the windowsill as you rifled through the fridge for sandwich fixings, gathering everything and setting up camp at the counter to assemble.

The house was strangely quiet without them running around with Steve chasing after them pretending to be King Kong—one of their favorite games to play with their dad. You'd always watch them from afar, smiling to yourself when he eventually nabbed them both in his arms and tossed them onto the couch for tickles, reveling in the good memories they were making, memories that you both hoped they would look back on fondly when they eventually grew older.

Stuck in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice Steve creep into the kitchen until he was right behind you, arms snaking around your waist tightly.

“Whatcha makin’?” He asked softly, chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck like it was second nature—which, at this point, it was.

“Turkey and cheese,” You hummed, stifling a giggle at the feeling of his breath puffing against your neck. “No crusts for the girls.”

“And where are their crusts going?”

“Into your sandwich.”

“I assumed so,” He sighed good-naturedly, defeatedly accepting the scrap of bread you held up to his lips. “A father’s duties are never finished.”

“Poor you.” You snickered. “Girls still asleep?”

“Nora’s still out like a light. Maisie’s drawing in her room. Did you know Nora’s got a mean kick? She kicked the shit outta me in her sleep, we should really put her on a peewee soccer team when she's old enough. Could have a star on our hands.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You blurted, turning around in his arms. You knew it was an out-of-the-blue question, and that he knew you loved him, but you just wanted to tell him again, on the off chance that he’d forgotten. Steve looked momentarily confused, but pleasantly surprised, smiling so warmly that you’d be fine never seeing sunshine again so long as you had him and that smile.

“Yeah, you do. All the time. I don’t mind hearing it over again though.” He murmured, cheeks flushing a bashful pink under your fingertips.

“You’re an amazing husband and an even better dad,” You continued, hooking your arms around his neck. “And I love you. Like, a lot.”

Steve’s hands splayed across your back, gliding along your skin underneath your sweater delicately as he maneuvered the two of you towards the center of the kitchen, where he had enough room to hug you fully. “Where’s all this high praise coming from?”

“I dunno…I just feel like I don’t tell you enough.”

“Believe me, darling, you tell me plenty enough. In more ways than one, in more places than one.”

“Oh, gross, Steve—”

“Sorry, sorry,” He chuckled, head hanging down to press his nose against the dip of your shoulder. His actions knocked his glasses askew, but he was quick to right them on his face. “I’m the luckiest guy on Earth, I swear.”

You tilted your chin up at him, eyes alight with mirth. “How so?”

“Well, since you’re fishing for compliments, I’ll let you in on it,” He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip gently. “I’m lucky that I met you. I’m lucky you decided to give my sorry ass a chance. I’m lucky that neither of us died trying to save the world all those times. And I’m super, doubly—no, quadruply lucky that I get to have this perfect life with you and our perfect girls.”

Boy, did Steve Harrington have a way with his words.

You beamed at him, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt with the effort. “You’re such a sap, Stevie.”

“Can you just humor me for one second? I’m trying to be heartfelt and shit, and here you are laughing at me goddamnit!”

That only brought another laugh out of you, one that you did your best to quell by tightening your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, kissing his nose, his cheeks, his chin, anywhere you could reach, pressing giggled ‘i love you’s to his pretty face. Steve spluttered out halfhearted protests as you littered kisses all over his face, ones that quickly turned into gasps of laughter at your now roaming hands.

“Okay, stop, stop,” He managed to gasp, honey eyes shining bright with tears. “I’m gonna pee myself, babe, stop!”

You stopped, but not before pressing a firm peck to his lips. “I love you.” You repeated, just one more time for good measure.

His response was near immediate, spoken pressed against your cheek like he wanted his words to seep into your skin, into your bloodstream, all through your veins so you’d always have them within you. “I love you too.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips, not aimed at him or ill intended in any way, just a culmination of all the things you were feeling in this very moment, here, with Steve. Why it came out as a laugh of all things, you had no idea, but it triggered a soft chuckle from him, which bubbled into a louder one, until you had to shush him through your own giggles so as to try to not wake Nora.

“You’re perfect, d’you know that? Absolutely freaking perfect.” Steve mumbled once he’d composed himself, eyes shining with the fondest light as he gazed down at you. The kind of light that made you feel golden, like you were his light. “And y’know what they say—perfect wife, perfect life.”

“Isn’t it ‘happy wife, happy life’?”

“That too.”

“Well, consider me the happiest wife.”

“Oh, good! I’m glad.” He kissed you before you could think of something to say, only to pull away seconds later, looking perplexed. “Is there a husband version of that saying?”

“What?”

“Y’know, happy husband, happy…something?”

“Nothing rhymes with husband, Stevie.”

“I’ll come up with one. Maybe even trademark it, then we’ll become filthy rich.” His lips twisted in thought, nose scrunching. “M’kay, husband. Something that rhymes with—” Now it was your turn to shut him up with a kiss, pressing your lips against his in such a way that the words died in his throat.

You didn’t need money or anything of the sort to be happy as long as you had Steve, your girls, and the perfect little life you’d made for yourselves in this not-so-perfect little town.

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