#so like study enough to get a B. cook enough to have a filling but not excessive meal. leisure time to rest but not totally veg

[shady-lemur]

ooooh dom!abby x reader with a demanding work life (maybe a trade of some sort) who wants to come home and be taken care of instead of taking care of everyone else (smut obvi but maybe some angst/drama perhaps 🫣)

oh my god can we get married pls. i love u. i hope you like this, i kinda rushed it at the end and smut isn’t my strong suit but i had to do this prompt!

content warning : smut, a little bit of angst, fighting, two cuties!!

minors do not interact!!

you were fucking exhausted. working on cars for 8 hours straight with no lunch because your coworker can’t do his job made you ready to cuddle up with your wife and put in a movie!! you were finally home! ready to relax and let off some steam.

you unlock the door to your apartment and sigh at the cool air-conditioned air. “abs? you home?”

you hear an answer and smile, walking into your shared room to find her studying for her upcoming exam. what a hard working medical student!! “hi angel. how was work?” she smiles and pushes her chair out enough for you to give her a kiss.

“fucking terrible. i just need a shower and eat, maybe we can cook that steak together tonight.”

abby looks back down at her notebook and gives you an apologetic smile. “sorry baby.. i really have to get this done, i ran out of time earlier to-”

you scoff slightly and dropped your bag on your bed before cutting her sentence off. “abby. i thought you were gonna get that done this morning so we could have a night together.”

she sighs and puts her pen down. “every night is a night together.. ”

“are you fucking kidding? abby i’ve been looking forward to tonight all week. it’s literally the only thing that was keeping me sane.” you’re starting to tear up. all the stress and frustration from work bubbling over. when abby notices she gets up and goes to comfort you but you push her away.

“whatever abigail. i don’t even care. i don’t know why i’m fucking crying. i’ll just get some takeout of some shit.”

abby furrows her eyebrows and laughs. “abigail? it’s that serious to you? you’re not the only one who hasn’t caught a fucking break. working and going to school full time is hard!! not that you’d know.” you’re scowl falls at you sit in shock for a second before grabbing your bag again and storming out of the room. “i’m going to my sister’s house. maybe you should think about who pays your fucking rent to make your life 5x easier before calling me.”

abby tries to say something else but you’re out of the apartment before she can get anything out.

————————————————————————

the next couple days were tense. you had come back from your sister’s house but you barely talked to your fiancé. just making small talk and giving each other pecks on the cheek before leaving for work or getting home from class. abby was afraid to say anything because sometimes she talks before she thinks. you didn’t say anything because you were embarrassed that you let so much emotion from your job pour into your relationship.

tonight you worked an hour of overtime and you were sore and tired and stressed out. all you needed was some tlc!! but of course this is the week that you and abby were silently fighting….

you unlock the door and drop your bag and take off your shoes before making a b-line for the shower. but something stops you. the sight of a set table with two plates. steak, potatoes, and some greens. with a bottle of wine and fresh flowers in the middle of the table. you feel the tears already coming… jesus christ. then you hear a quiet “shit!” from the kitchen.

“abby?” you ask before seeing abby in a cute apron holding her finger while looking down at a pie tin. you laugh slightly and walk over to her. “what happened?”

she frowns, “i burnt my finger.. i also think i made the filling wrong. i tried to follow your recipe but..”

you smile at her and pull her in for a kiss. she lets out a surprised moan but immediately kisses you back, taking off her silly oven mitt so she can bring your body closer to her. you pull away and laugh. she brushes your hair out of your face and smiles. “i’m sorry angel. i said some really stupid shit and i didn’t mean it. i was just ashamed for putting off studying and i got defensive.”

you nod and smile at her, eyes still tearing up. “i’m sorry too. i should’ve heard you out more at first before getting upset. work has been beating my ass lately and i think i’m just needing some extra support right now.”

abby nods and kisses you again before leading you to the table. “well how about we start with some dinner? then you can take a nice shower and we can do whatever you want for the rest of the night.” you sniff and nod, giving her one more kiss before sitting down!

“this smells delicious oh my god.”

————————————————————————

“the waters warm now angel. you’re so beautiful.” she watches as you strip out of your work clothes and you giggle at her blatant staring. “are you not coming in with me?”

abby perks up like a fucking puppy when you say that and starts to take off her clothes as you get in the shower. she’s in not even three seconds after you. you laugh as she pulls you closer. “can’t believe i was so stupid.. you’re so perfect.”

you shake your head and turn to look at her, “shut up!! you’re the smartest person i’ve ever met. gonna be the best doctor.” abby shushes you and smiles, “this is no time to flatter me. this is your night.”

abby starts to kiss your jaw as she slinks her arms around your waist. the hot water coming down to you making you even more comfortable in her arms. “abs-“

she smiles and nips at your neck before pulling away, “is this what you want? we can just shower instead-“

you cut her off with a passionate kiss, “please abby. don’t wanna stop.”

she smirks at you and goes back in for a kiss, pining you against the shower wall while you whine into her mouth. she bites your bottom lip and smiles into the kiss when you yelp in surprise. her tongue explores your mouth while her knee slots between your legs.

you take hold of her hair when her thigh makes contact with where you need her most. “please-“

your hips buck, making your clit drag across her skin beautifully. you whine and wrap your arms around her neck as she moves down to suck on your neck. her hands move down to guide your hips against her bare thigh. groaning at the sounds coming from your mouth. abby wishes she could record them and make them her ringtone, mostly to remind everyone around her that she has the most amazing girl in the world.

“abby.. need you so bad.” your breath hitches as she bites a particularly sensitive area next to your ear. she smiles and looks at your face. your eyes shut and your mouth slightly open as you focus on getting yourself off. abby gently forces you to look at her and smiles at you as she stops your movements.

“what do you want baby?”

your face heats up as you pout at her. “abby.. do i have to say it?”

she laughs and nods, “cmon angel, you can do it. it’s your night.”

“i… want your tongue” you whisper. usually that wouldn’t satisfy abby but you needed her so badly!! how could she wait any longer? she lowers herself onto her knees and rubs your hips gently as she kisses the skin of your stomach and thighs. “beautiful girl. my beautiful beautiful girl.”

you cover your face in embarrassment but abby gives you a light smack on the thigh. “eyes on me baby. there’s no need to be embarrassed.”

you open your eyes and nod, just trying to get her to touch you asap!!

abby lets out the prettiest moan when she connect with your cunt, giving your clit kitten licks before sucking on it. you let out a shaky breath and bring your hand to her hair, trying to stabilize yourself. “fuck, abby..”

you feel her fingers sneak up to your cunt while she draws shapes around your clit with her tongue, sometimes flattening it against your pussy just to hear your surprised moan. you have to stop yourself from screaming when her fingers plunge into your pussy.

“fuck baby. calm down.” abby lets out a shaky breath, your cunt is squeezing her fingers so good! she’s so wet :(

you shake your head as you watch her. “abby- ‘m gonna cum..”

she smiles at your slick and meets your eyes. “go ahead baby.”

the knot in your stomach tightens at her words before it breaks. she keeps fucks you through it until you’re finally calmed down. your chest is rising and falling rapidly with your breaths.

abby puts a stop to her movements and smiles at you. she kisses your thigh before giving your cunt one last kiss and rising from her knees. “open your mouth angel.” you do as she says and she sticks her two fingers in, watching as you suck your own cum off them. “such a dirty girl.” she teases you as you whine. you’re getting wet all over again!!

she lets her fingers free with a ‘pop!’ and gives you a kiss before running her hands up and down your sides, stopping at your ass.

“what should we do now? you ready for a movie?”

you shake your head and smile at her, “i’m ready for your strap.”

abby laughs and stops the water in the shower. “that’s my fucking girl.”

————————————————————————

that night was amazing. not only was it the best dick you’ve ever had but it was also a turning point in your relationship!! abby never missed a date night ever again and you started being more open with your emotions and needs, leading to wayyy more ‘i’m sorry you had a bad day’ sex.

#tlou part 2 #tlou fic #tlou smut #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby x fem!reader

[hannahssimblr]

After a freezing, wet trek along the Clontarf seafront I turn into Michelle’s estate. All the houses have warm, yellow light spilling out the windows onto the grey, rain beaten pavement, inviting, yet it only reminds me of how grim this damn country is in the winter. It's been eight years since we moved here now and yet I still don't understand how people are supposed to cope with the winter. I suppose they don’t. I suppose we just accept that we will be a little bit sad for a while. 

They always leave the door off the latch for me on Tuesdays, they know I’m coming, and I let myself into the warmth of their home. It always smells good here, tonight like seafood and lemongrass, and whatever is cooking sizzles enticingly on the pan. I won’t ask for food, I never dare to, but if they offer I have yet to refuse them.

Rahim Tengu peers into the hallway as I shut the door. He is cooking in a suit. He’s always wearing one, even when doing things like mowing the lawn in the heat of summer. 

“Jude,” he says, “Wet outside, eh?”

“Yeah,” I take my shoes off and leave them by the door, “Whatever you’re making smells good, like always.”

“Nasi Lemak,” He says, “I’ll leave a plate for you when you're finished”

“Oh, thank you.”

He hesitates, “So how are your studies?”

“Yeah, good. Trying to get back into the swing of it since the new year. Fifth year is tough, you know?”

“Yes,” Another pause. Rahim is the most awkward of all the dads, he never knows what to say to me, but I let him think on it for another moment, brows knitted, spoon halfway to the pan, before I decide to put him out of his misery. 

“Jen upstairs?”

“Yes, yes, in her room.”

“Cool, see you in a while then.”

She’s sprawled out of the duvet with her earphones in, laying still like a corpse with her hands clasped on her stomach and white socks stacked on the pillows.

“Oh, you’re here,” she drawls. She doesn't even have to open her eyes to know it.

“You sound thrilled.”

“Ugh,” She flips to her stomach, pulls at her iPod cable and tosses the whole thing towards the head of the bed, “Come on, then, make me feel like a dumb bitch.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” I dig my maths notes out of my school bag and join her on the bed, “You been practising your trig?”

“That the one with the protractors?” 

“I’ll take that as a no.”

She lays still for a long moment, just staring into the middle distance before gathering the energy to learn. She falls onto her back and pulls the book I have opened toward her. “‘In the diagram, [AB] and [DC] are two parallel roads, where [AB] = 800m and [DC] = 500m. By measurement, it is determined that [<ABC] = 75° and that [BC] = 600m. Find [AC] to the nearest metre,’” She looks at me, eyes filled with hopeless despair, “How am I meant to know?”

“Well, do you remember what we went over before Christmas? The cosine rule?”

“Before Christmas? You might as well be talking a decade ago. I don’t remember anything that happened before last week. My brain is mush.”

I pull out my ruler, “Well, look, let’s start by drawing it out so we can visualise it, like this, then, we know that A² = B² + C² - 2BCcosA…”

“Do we know that? Are we sure?” 

“Jenny, yes. C’mon, we’ve done this.”

“I don’t think you understand how much I hate maths.”

“It’s not that bad, look, based on the cosine rule and the information we know already, we can write out the formula, right? x=(600)² + (800)² - 2(600)(800)cos 75°, so all you have to do is work that out.”

“Oh, is that all.”

“Yeah, so c’mere, hand me your calculator, it’s-” A shriek from the next room almost rattles my skeleton free from my flesh. 

“Why are you always like this?” It's Michelle. “I’m old enough! Just let me go!”

I glance awkwardly at Jen who is ignoring it, diligently punching the formula into her calculator and kicking her feet in the air. 

“When you demonstrate responsibility,” her mother screams back, “I will give you freedom, but until then…”

“Don’t look so shocked,” Jen says when she catches sight of my stricken expression, “You and Collette are like this.” 

“Not really. We don’t scream at each other.”

“This is just the volume they speak at here. It’s not as dramatic as it sounds. They're kind of just... having a conversation.” 

“Okay but you’re being such a bitch about it.” Michelle bites out, and I wince. 

“I don’t talk to my mom like that.”

Jen shrugs, “It’s not that serious, really, they don’t mean it. They'll be all lovey-dovey-happy-families again tomorrow. You get used to it.” she scribbles something onto her copy book and pushes it toward me “X equals 751533?”

I frown, “I don’t know, let me check.”

“Well you’re a nightmare of a daughter sometimes, do you hear me? I don’t want to be like this, I don’t want to be up here shouting at you, but you drive me to distraction with all of this carry on!”

“Um,” my fingers hesitate on the buttons of the calculator, “So… it was… (600)² which is…”

Something clatters to the floor and they start shouting even louder. The corners of Jen’s mouth curl up, “Let’s take a break, yeah? We can drown it out with some music.”

“Good idea.”

She scrambles to fetch her iPod again and hands me one earbud. We lie back on the pillows while she puts on some whiny emo track about a guy who is either dying or wishing he was dead. 

“Are you traumatised by Michelle and her mam because it reminds you of your parents?” She leans over me and sweeps my hair from my forehead. I laugh, “You trying to therapize me?” 

“You said they fought when you were small.”

“Yeah but I only heard it a handful of times, I wouldn’t say I am traumatised.” 

“Still, I think there’s something lodged in your psyche about it, it’s why you hate conflict.”

“Nobody likes conflict.”

“Yeah but most people don’t avoid it like you,” She pokes my arm because I've looked away, “Hey, would you say that you’d rather run away from your problems than face them?”

“Did you steal that question from your counsellor?”

She pretends to be shocked, “Um, no! Excuse me.”

“You’re excused. Hey, would you like it if my voice sounded like this guy’s?” I tilt the iPod screen to her and point to the album cover guy who has blood pouring down his face. 

“First of all, that’s not the guy singing, that’s a cartoon. Secondly, I don’t know what you even mean.”

I lean into her ear and put on the whiniest voice I can in imitation of him “Hhhhwhat’s the worst that I can say… hhhthings are better if I stay…”

She snorts and shoves me off her, “Go away, you freak.”

“hhhAND IF WE CARRY ON THIS HHHWWWHAYAH…”

Jen’s bedroom door opens and I jump. Michelle stands there frowning. I hadn’t even realised in the midst of my caterwauling and our hysterical giggles that the shouting had stopped.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2009 #hello Michelle #prizes for guessing who Jude is making fun of #the emo content is good for my soul tbh #tw: fighting

[slavic-roots-western-mind]

Backpack must-haves: College edition

Pens, laptop, notebooks, water, some cash and a charger with the odd mint or tictac chilling somewhere at the bottom of your bag.

Scrambling around, trying to find your ratty notebook, and then asking your impeccable, super organized neighbor for a pen 6 minutes after class has started only to be shushed by the person in front of you and having 10 heads swivel back and glare at you for interrupting their flow.

Sounds familiar? That was the state of my learning and my bag during my first week of uni, after which my itinerary was promptly overhauled and reorganized.

Question: If your backpack is messy and disorganized, how will that reflect on your studies in the long-run? Not great, so let's go through my back pack must-have's so that you have one less thing to stress about.

1. A pencil case with: 4x pens, 2x pencils, 1x sharpener, 1x eraser, 3x highlighters, 1x scissors, 1x small glue.

The amount and items vary, depending on your major and personal use, but an actual pencil case is a must have. It doesn't need to be flashy, or designer.

Even a plastic ziplock bag will do!

You just need a bag or a container to store your pens so that instead of scrambling at the bottom of your bag and hopelessly trying to find a working pen, you know exactly where everything is.

2. Electronics: 1x phone charger, 1x laptop with charger, headphones

One of the worst things that can happen is low batter, so come prepared! Bring along your phone and laptop charger (if you need your lapop that day) just in case.

3. Your beauty & health case

If you wear makeup regularly, you probably already have a small makeup bag with your products.

Other people, myself included should also have a smaller bag, but not just for makeup or makeup at all.

This case should have tampons, pads, a spare set of underwear and socks (you never know when the rain decides to go apocolyptic, and going back home in wet socks is unpleasant), gum, painkillers, any meds that you may need, deodorant, body spray, hand sanitizer, tissues, some emergency cash, lipbalm etc.

Once again, the actual contents may vary, but the point stands. Get a separate case or bag for your health products, so that instead of trying to juggle several items when going to the bathroom, you can just remove your case and go do your business quickly and easily.

When possible, streamline the process.

4. A full water bottle

Staying hydrated is a must, especially during the start of the school year. All the running around the campus, trying to remember in which buliding your classes are require enough liquids.

Early autumn tends to be quite hot in my region, and only starts to cool off in mid November, so my water bottle requires constant re-filling.

Your studies will thank you, as an over-heated, dehydrated student with a raging headache is rarely a productive student.

(Source: me and a few other uni students who chose coffee over water one time too many, and lived to tell the tale. Oh the regret. Anyway. Live and learn.)

5. Food

Who has time to wake up in the morning, cook a proper lunch, pack it neatly into your lunchbox, shower, get dressed, and make it in time for your morning class bright-eyed and energized?

Not many students, especially uni students commuting to class for 1-2hrs each day.

I should probably make a separate post about meal prep on a money and time budget (lmk if that'll be useful!), but the bottom line is this:

You need to eat, and the on campus cafe's usually charge an arm and a leg, so there are a few options available.

A. Cook overnight and bring leftovers and some snacks to tide you over with you. Snacks may include fruit, sandwiches, some chips etc. Small and light.

B. Live solely on pre-bought snacks. Works for some people, not so much for others. A good option, as long as the snacks have some substance (cheetos don't count! Think more like a fruit cup, or a chicken sandwhich).

C. Depending on your location, some campuses are located in a city, so a quick 10 min bus ride to a grocery store is likely to offer more variety and better lunch options. I

've certainly done that, and guess what? The daily bus ticket and my shawarma cost less than a fancy sandwhich so there's always that!

6. The stationary: Notebooks, textbooks, a planner

Your course may require you to use just one notebook, whereas you may go through 10 notebooks per term in a different class.

Look up the syllabus and email your lecturer in advance to know what material you will need.

Don't forget to include some extra notebooks for your own out-of-class studying. Using the same notebook can have varying results.

Personally, I don't need anyone else seeing my notebook filled with what appears to be incomprehensible scribblings and ramblings, when it's just me annotating my answers to practise questions.

You may like many people use an online planner, but nothing beats having an on paper entry. Besides, it's more convenient to use in those weak or no signal buildings, with wifi so weak that they shouldn't have bothered wiring the building.

7. The wallet

Campus ID, personal ID, card, cash, driver's license, health card, maybe a business card or two.

You never know when you might need any of these things, as things happen, especially on college campuses, so always carry around some cash and an ID of some sort.

#college life #student life #studyinspo #studyblr #study tips #china #aesthetic #college #slavic roots western mind #student #study in china #travel blog #study blog #studyspo #study motivation #studying #exams #study space #study aesthetic #langblr #study notes #light academia #current mood #vibes #booklr

[spacesistersimp]

Rainy kisses

Steven Grant x GN! reader(Academic/University AU)

Warnings: none really, established friendship, friends to lovers, no mentions of Marc or Jake, a itty bitty amount of academic rivals, oh and keep in mind english is NOT my first language<3

Word count:  953 words, so kinda short <3

***************************************************************

The sky was grey and the air crisp but it wasn’t raining, not even a drop fell down from the sky.

It was early, not later than 8, I grabbed my now cold coffee and my keys and went outside, the morning air filled my lungs and I began my walk towards the bus that should bring me to my university.

Even though it was early I was still late to class, *as always* I thought to myself, got off the bus and saw Steven waiting for me in the entrance hall.

Ah yes Steven. My best friend since…ever I guess?

We were lucky enough to get into the same university and have some classes’ together aswell! Live really couldn’t be better.

I hugged him, he smelled like tea and sleep, a smell I want to dive into and never come out of again. The kind of smell that you’re instantly attracted to, hold up. No. He’s my best friend! Get it together.

I grabbed his hand “Shall we?”

We had history together and afterwards I had my literature class.

-----------------------------------------------------------

“Do you want to study in the library?” His voice broke the comfortable silence we were in

“Sounds great yea sure!” I smiled and nodded

We walked the short way to the library and found a small comfortable seating area were we sat us down.

“How’s finding a new apartment going?” he smiled at me while I fished out my laptop from my backpack

“Ugh, bad. Can’t find anything that’s close enough and not too expensive.” I rolled my eyes and started my laptop after I got my copy of “Frankenstein” aswell.

“I mean…you could just, you know.” I looked up at him

“Know what?” I think I knew what he was going to say but I wanted to hear it from him.

“Well live with me? You’re already nearly every day over at mine and Gus really likes you, so why not?” He gave me a very Steven like smirk and I started grinning

“Really? That would be amazing!” I started thinking about study and movie nights, about cooking together and sleeping in one bed. Ew what the fck? No stop he’s your friend, and nice enough to give you a room to sleep in! Stop thinking like that!

“I would love to Steven!” I said quickly and started reading in my book, he seemed satisfied with that and started learning aswell.

 The days went by rather quickly, studying, drinking coffee or tea with Steven and everyday bringing some kind of furniture from my place to his.

And as much as I tried to suppress the feelings I had for Steven, I felt like I was burning inside.

Until one evening.

“What grade did you get from Professor. Harrow?” He looked up from his laptop while asking me

We sat on his couch, my legs thrown over his and both with a laptop on our laps.

“Ugh I got 80% sooo that’s a…B?” I threw my head back and closed my eyes while thinking if I did the math correct

“Yea that’s a B, I got 93% but only because I memorised all of the capital cities.” I opened my eyes and starred at him.

It’s not crazy that he got a better grade than I did in a history test, he studies Egyptology for hells sake, but it still felt like a stab in the stomach that he was so much better than I was.

“Damn. I mean that’s great, just disappointed in myself.” I looked down at the laptop again, I didn’t dare looking at him for even a split second.

“What?! No don’t be! 80% is still great and I’m extremely proud of you! Professor. Harrow sucks and I just got lucky.” He took my hand and gave it a squeeze. I nodded and looked up at him.

*Jesus Christ. How can he be so pretty and perfect* I thought to myself. His brown eyes looked at me through his dark curly hair and his hand felt so warm and soft around mine. I looked down at his lips and up again in his eyes.

I moved slightly closer to him on the couch and slowly lifted my right hand up to cup his face. I caressed his cheek with my thumb and didn’t dare to breathe more than a shallow inhale. I forgot everything around us, it was just. Him.

I shouldn’t do this, was my last thought before I did it.

I closed the last few inches between us and slowly put my lips on his. The kiss was slow, careful and I lingered over his lips after he pulled away to take a breath.

A smile formed on both our faces, the laptops and Professor. Harrow long forgotten. The next kiss was stronger, it lasted longer, a kiss full of mutual pining, taste of bittersweet coffee and sleep. This time I pulled away, leaned my forehead against his and turned away to close my and his laptop, I put them to the side and sat up.

He still stared at me, his hair ruffled, his lips formed to a smile and his eyes wide.

“I think…I think I’m in love with you Steven.” I said slowly, as if he would run away if I moved too quickly.

This time he cupped my face, stroking my cheek.

“I think…you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you…and never wish to be parted from you from this day on.”

My eyes went wide and we both started laughing, a laugh full of love.

“Alright Mr. Darcy.” I laugh cried into his shoulder and then kissed him again, and again, and again.

 ---------------Tag list---------

@sir-knight-slytherdor @in-between-the-cafes @angstyb1tch @ahookedheroespureheart  @ghostheartbeat @anismaria @djarinbabysnotes @brekkers-desigirl

#academia au #steven grant x reader #professor grant x reader #steven grant fluff #steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #steven grant my beloved #steven with a v #steven grant smut #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #idk #:O #aesthetic #bye #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

[cynicalone94]

Working To Exhaustion

“Jay!” 

He turns back to see Jerry jogging toward him. 

“Hey man.” he says. “What’s up?”

“Some of us guys are going to catch a movie. You wanna come?”

“Sorry.” Jay says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I gotta get home to help out with my mom.”

“You can’t just stop living your life, dude.” Jerry says, shaking his head. 

“She needs me.” Jay insists. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Later man.”

Jay hurries down the street, heading up Union Avenue to Bell Heir’s BBQ. 

He works there after school, bussing tables. The deal he’d struck with his mom when he’d begged her to let him get a job to help with the expenses of her cancer treatment meant that he’s only allowed to work four hour shifts. 

Which is why when he finishes up at the restaurant he heads home, checks in with his mom, eats dinner and then heads upstairs to work on his homework. 

Then at ten thirty he sneaks out his window to get to Kelly’s Tavern for his eleven o’clock shift. 

He’s too young to work behind the bar but they let him clean tables and bus dishes. Last call is at two am and once the patrons have all filtered out, he wipes down the tables one more time and sweeps and mops the floors before heading home. 

Some nights he crawls back in the window and falls right into bed. Other nights he has homework to finish before he can go to bed. 

Part of the deal with his mom was that if he starts to fall behind on his school work he has to cut back on his hours. And he can’t let that happen. 

He’s exhausted but it’s worth it to see less stress on his mom’s face. Worth it for her to feel like she can fill the prescriptions that are intended to help ease the side effects of the chemo. 

Worth it to have fewer unpaid medical bills in the stack on the kitchen counter. 

Will works a couple days a week at the Pizza Nova Express but he’s a Junior, working on college applications and Jay had insisted that he had things handled, that Will not work every day. 

He’s pretty sure that if Will knew how many hours he’s working he would completely freak out and insist on doing more himself. 

Which is why Jay will do anything he can to keep his brother from finding out. 

Will is smart. He’s going to go to college. He’s going to be a doctor and someday he’ll help people like their mom. 

Jay can make sure their mom is taken care of now. 

Jay skims the last couple of paragraphs on his English essay. 

It’s not his best work but it should be good enough for an A minus, or maybe a B plus. He shoves it into his backpack and then looks at his biology textbook. 

He should probably study for his quiz on Friday but it’s already four thirty and he’s already pulled two all-nighters this week. 

He’ll study tomorrow. 

The alarm seems to go off as soon as his head hits the pillow. He groans, pressing his face deeper into the cloth.

Maybe his mom will let him stay from from school today. 

But if she does, she’ll probably expect him to call out of work as well. 

He rolls of the bed, stumbling over to the dresser and looking for clean clothing. 

He dresses and makes his way downstairs. 

“Good morning sweetheart.” his mom says as he passes the stove, grabbing him and kissing his cheek. 

“Morning mom.” he says, closing his eyes briefly. 

This is why he’s doing this. This is why all of the extra hours, all of the exhaustion, is worth it. 

“I made bacon and eggs.” she tells him. “You want toast?”

“I can make it.” he assures her. “Thanks for cooking.”

“Of course darling.” she says, kissing his cheek again. “My baby boy needs to be well-fed for school.”

“You want some toast, mom?” he asks as he slots the bread into the toaster. 

“Sure baby.” she says. “You look tired.”

“Just not completely awake yet.” he assures her as he plates her toast, spreading is with jam. 

She studies his face for a long moment before starting to divvy out the eggs and bacon. 

“If you need to cut back hours so that you can get enough sleep you should.” she says. “Your father and I will figure it out. It’s not your job to take care of us.”

“I want to help.” he assures her, tossing the next batch of toast on a plate for Will, complete with the peanut butter he favors. “I’m getting enough sleep, I promise.”

“Alright.” she says. “Now eat.”

Will stumbles down the stairs a few minutes later. They eat quickly and then the brothers kiss their mom goodbye and head off to school. 

He sits in homeroom, trying to stay awake while the teacher drones on and on about upcoming events. 

He’s so tired. Maybe Mrs. Wallace won’t notice if he just closes his eyes for a little bit. 

“Jay?” 

He looks up to see Mrs. Wallace staring at him. 

“Homeroom is over Jay.” she says gently. “You need to get to your next class.”

“Oh.” he mutters, scrambling to grab his bag. “Sorry, Mrs. Wallace. I didn’t mean to get distracted.”

“Are you alright?” she asks, walking toward his desk. “I know your mom’s illness has been hard on you.”

“I’m okay.” he assures her. “Just not sleeping the best. I guess I’m a little worried.”

“Understandable.” she says. “Do you want to take the day? I can write you a note.”

“I’m fine.” Jay insists. “I should get to class.”

He stands up, grabbing for the desk when the room spins. 

“Jay?”

“I’m… fine.” he stammers. “I…. have to…. go.”

Then everything goes black. 

He wakes up slowly. 

“Jay!”

He rolls his head to the side, trying to blink the room into focus. 

“Mom?”

“Oh sweetheart, thank god.” 

“What happened?” 

“You passed out at school, hit your head on a desk.” she says, hand resting on his hair. 

“How long have I –” he asks, sitting up. “I need to get to work.”

“You aren’t going to Bell Heir’s today.” she says. “Or Kelly’s.”

Jay pales. 

“Mom, I -”

“I’m not angry sweetheart.” she says, running her fingers through his hair. “I’m just sorry that you felt like you had to do that. It’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around.”

“I couldn’t watch you not fill your anti-nausea meds because we couldn’t afford them anymore.” Jay says. “I had to do something.”

“You have to take care of yourself, baby.” she soothes, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

“I… I don’t know.” he admits, looking down. 

“Well now you’ve got a concussion.” she says. “So they’re going to keep you overnight for observation and then you’re going to take a week off. No school, no work, just you getting some rest for once. And then we can talk about you picking up a few hours at Bell Heir’s. A couple of nights a week, nothing more.”

“I can’t stay here.” he says. “We can’t afford it.”

“We’ll make it work.” she says. 

“I’m sorry.” he says, pushing aside the blanket and trying to sit up. “I just wanted to help, not make things worse.”

“Jay.” she says, pushing him back down. “Just let your momma take care of her baby, okay?”

“Okay.” he says slowly. “Okay. I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, baby.” she says, helping him sit up and pulling him into a tight hug. “I love you so much.”

#whumptober 2023 #no. 26 #working to exhaustion #Chicago PD #fic #teenage Jay Halstead

[cwip]

Daemonicus (9)

Charios strolled inside the café with a bag of steaks and vegetable. Barbus had been less busy lately, but his habit of eating frozen sandwiches for a quick meal didn't stop. Charios's used to cooking porridge, but it could get hungry quickly. Maybe he would find a cookery book near Nouveau street to make something more filling.

He sat on a taboret and looked around.

The Nameless Café was emptier than its competitors at the weekend, at which the number of customers should have peaked. But this afternoon was out of his expectation: Not a single soul passed through the door beside him and Barbus.

Back when he was still delivering newspapers on Parasis Bay, he had passed through many coffeehouses looking the same, empty, dusty, wrapped in foliage like a break-up present. Ten days later, a big sign saying "For Rent" sat beside the entrance.

Even after taking a peek at the dossier that Barbus was working on, he still couldn't understand why he was always busy. If he didn't come back with two stacks of papers every night, whether it's about the funding of the squad, signing allowance papers for the most trivial things like freebies for landlords or just dodging gush of suggestions from Devola to crack some beer at a vegan taco street vendor, Charios would think he got himself into the list of missing cases without a doubt.

That's why this place wasn't in a good care. That's why he needed someone else to take care of it. That's why Barbus hadn't left him in the Bay to rot. He's just a robot, programmed to make the others' life better anyway.

A loud thud startled Charios. The robot turned to the staircase.

"Rats?"

That loud?

It couldn't be. Unless it's as big as a human. It sounded more like a stumble.

Charios kept a nonchalant face, the gears inside his joints winded up. He tip-toed upstairs, the cube materialized into the baton in his hand.

"Show yourself and I will not hurt you!"

No response.

"..."

Two steps away from the second floor, Charios took a deep breath. He's sure both Devola and Barbus weren't back yet, especially Devola since she lived in an apartment a few blocks away, and Barbus wouldn't dare to leave his workplace at four in the afternoon.

It seemed the time to show the lieutenant his gratitude had come.

Charios leaped onto the floor, raising his baton. A figure the right corner in the dark caught his eyes. A lady was hugging on the wall, her glowing red eyes glued on him as they trembled. Her hands held a frying pan over her head.

Just like how Barbus described.

"W—" Charios dilated his eyes. "WAIT—!"

BONK!

[ o ]

"But he didn't say anything!" The girl whined. The bunny ears on top of her head curled down.

Barbus sat on the sofa with Charios. The black pixels on the robot's face flickered in and out. "Always have visual info before anything else, Vis. Besides..." He squinted and held up the fedora, bent like a frozen dough raising its crusts from both sides, "How hard did you hit him?"

"... Light enough..." Vis averted her eyes, "I-I think!"

Barbus squinted. "This certainly will leave a good impression. You're lucky he's made out of metal."

"B-But I really didn't mean to!" Vis waddled off.

Barbus stood up. "Speaking of impression, how is your study at Mossoriana?"

Vis was brewing a cup of Coffee for Barbus but she paused. A bead of sweat ran down her cheek. She slowly turned to Barbus with an uneven smile.

"I-It's going great!"

"That's quite a smile." Barbus crossed his arms.

"What do you mean?"

"I won't be mad, Vis. Just say it."

"W-Why are you asking me like I got an F in the Aura theory exam because I spent all my time helping Ruby so Mr. Drago gave me all the moderator's work for five weeks as a reward for my kindness?"

"Look," Barbus squinted, "I don't care if you have bad grades, bad friends or bad reputation. They don't matter. All I need from you is the ability to handle a fight by yourself. Self-defense, that's it. Don't expect me to drag my legs to you and babysit all day. You're turning eighteen in two months."

His stern tone silenced Vis. A blank expression stuck on her face before she gave him another, but vague, smile. "Okay, dad."

Barbus sighed. "I'm not your dad..."

"But it's cute!" Vis' smile beamed at full force.

"... What's cute?" Charios opened his eyes and sat up, grunting.

Vis flinched. "It's alive!"

"Charios, your head is..." Barbus' voice trailed off.

"Huh?" Charios rubbed the new dent. "... No worries, Lieutenant. I'm already used to it."

"H-Hello!" Vis waved at him.

Charios turned over, deadpan, which made her face pale. Vis gulped and bowed at him. "I'm really sorry! I'm so sorry! Please don't hit me! My head's not tough like yours!"

"I know, Ma'am. Don't worry." The robot got off the couch and turned to the grandfather clock.

"M-Ma'am?!" Vis dilated her eyes and turned to Barbus, pointing at Charios, "Barbus, he called me a ma'am! Am I a noble?!"

"No." Barbus walked inside the kitchen.

"... Oh..."

"Lieutenant, I'm making porridge tonight." Charios scanned around the seating room.

"Why?" Barbus' voice muffled from the kitchen.

"I suggest you ask yourself, Lieutenant."

Meanwhile, Vis watched the two talking curiously.

"Thank you. I put the ingredients in the fridge... Also, I need you to do something."

"Yes?"

#urban fantasy #psychological thriller #original work #original story #original writing

[hlficlibrary]

- HL Fic Library's A/B/O Fic Rec -

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here. Want to help pick the next fic rec? Fill out this form!

❤️ Light, Spark and Fire (series) by @greenfeelings {E, 216k}

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

❤️ Saving Symphony Hall by @helloamhere {E, 124k}

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

❤️ Say Something by @kingsofeverything {E, 105k}

At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.

Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

❤️ Cameras Flashing by @juliusschmidt {E, 81k}

With his breakout single platinum three times over and his second album still selling out in stores around the world, Louis Tomlinson has made it to the top. However, his position as Pop Heartthrob of the Decade is threatened by the edgier, more artistic Zayn, who happens to be releasing an album a week after Louis’ upcoming third. Louis needs something groundbreaking- scandalous, even- to push past him in the charts. Much to Louis’ dismay, his PR team calls in The Sexpert.

Consulting with PR firm Shady, Lane and Associates pays the bills so that Harry Styles can spend his down time doing what he really loves: poring over data. On weekends and late into the evenings, he researches gender, presentation, and sexual orientation, analysing the longitudinal study that is his father’s life’s work. That is, until his newest client, the popstar with the fascinating secret, drags him off his couch and frighteningly close to the spotlight.

As the album’s release date approaches, will Tomlinson and Styles be able to pull off the most risky PR scheme of the millennium and beat Zayn in sales or will the heat of their feelings for each other compromise everything?

❤️ Little by Little by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {E, 65k}

Harry Styles is an omega who works at the London Planetarium, has lived in the same flat for ages, and is happy enough on his own. When he gets home from his first (horrible) attempt at dating in years, a new pregnant neighbor knocks on his door after smelling his cooking. He and Louis quickly become close, but their friendship gets complicated when Harry begins questioning who he is and what he likes.

Or Harry discovers figuring out who you are is more complicated than a potato metaphor.

❤️ Unveiled by phdmama / @phd-mama {M, 60k}

The train grinds to a halt and Harry leans forward in his eagerness to take it all in. It’s a gorgeous Spring day, the sky the same intense blue that he knows from home, which comforts him. There’s much here that looks almost familiar, but then so much that is new and strange to his eyes. The bustling station platform and winding streets beyond paved in cobblestones look much like home. There are vehicles ranging from small to very large, some with strange and unusual shapes of which he can only guess the purpose. But most surprising are the people. There is a crowd gathered, filled with men and women, some in what looks to be a military uniform, some in what must be the street clothes in this Land.

There are no robes. And not a single one of them is veiled.

❤️ where the lights are beautiful (series) by twoshipsdrifting / @polkadotlou {E, 48k}

Harry wasn’t wrong about that, not in a general sense. Lots of omegas did seek out rich alphas and betas, hoping or planning to go into heat at the right time. Plenty of omegas saw this as their duty, especially if their families weren’t well off. Worse, Louis couldn’t honestly say he’d never thought about it. If that had been his life, his goal, Louis would feel pretty good about himself now. As it is…Louis feels like shit.

Or the accidental bonding a/b/o fic.

❤️ eucalyptus by docklands / @hershelsue {E, 46k}

Harry didn't mean to get pregnant at all. When little Agnes comes along, his bachelor life takes a turn and he has to figure out how to single parent, with the occasional help from his best friend and co-worker, Zayn. Everything is running smoothly until Agnes starts acting strange, crying non-stop, sleeping at the most unconventional hours and not caring that she's ruining Harry's life. Her doctor says she's just an infant and that there's nothing wrong with her. Harry's instincts tell him the doctor's wrong and that he needs to seek a second opinion. Agnes' new paediatrician, Louis Tomlinson, is enthusiastic, passionate about his job and a little too charming for Harry's lonely heart to take. More than figuring out what's wrong with her, Louis ends up revealing secrets about Harry's life he had never even dreamed about.

❤️ Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by @sadaveniren {E, 42k}

Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha.

❤️ If I Loved You Less by @allwaswell16 {E, 36k}

Beautiful omega Louis Tomlinson is set to make his come out in London society and determined to find a mate in his first Season. With the help and protection of his oldest friend, Lord Niall Mendes, he takes Society by storm.

Being a wealthy and titled alpha means Lord Harry Styles has grown used to avoiding unmated omegas...until now. This Season he finds himself at every Society event just for a chance to speak with the omega with the flashing blue eyes.

Louis has the aristocracy at his feet and all the suitors he could hope for, but his secrets may ruin his chance at a love match.

❤️ And That's the Tea by @2tiedships2 {M, 27k}

I’d like an Earl Grey with milk and sugar, please.

Louis had the phrase memorized, even though it had disappeared off its place on his upper arm over thirteen years ago now.

At fourteen he didn’t understand. Soulmarks don’t just disappear. Not unless…

Unless one of them dies.

Or, the one where Louis loses his soulmate before even getting the chance to meet them, and he is in no way prepared for the kind of distraction his new friend Harry proves to be.

❤️ Strong Enough To Get Us Wrong by thinlines / @thinlinez {E, 24k}

Should Louis just come clean and tell Niall? Fuck, maybe he should.

Hell, he hasn’t even shown anyone in the last seven years his damn etching. But then again, he knew that if he were to lay it all on the table, his omega friend would surely understand his predicament.

“Ni, it’ll never work coz… Coz that bloke out there, Harry Styles, he’s my fucking soulmate.”

OR Omega Louis have always considered the soulmate etching on his left thigh to be a curse. It takes a world tour, the bustling city of Tokyo, a hike to see Mt. Fuji, some hidden feelings, sea urchin sushi and the alpha he hates most in the world to change him.

❤️ Love, Ever After by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 20k}

One would assume that the charismatic omega in charge of the local matchmaking service would have found a mate and settled down ages ago. His clients, in fact, are always a bit surprised when they come to learn that Louis is still single. But Louis doesn’t mind, not really. His standards are just high; he is happy holding out for his alpha, his soulmate, and chooses to not waste his time with anyone else, despite what his friends might think.

That is, until his best mate from uni drags him out of bed far too early on a Saturday morning after a night of drinking to go to a farmers market, of all places. It’s there that he proceeds to make an utter fool of himself in front of the hottest alpha he has ever laid eyes on. There’s truly no coming back from that, is there?

OR The one where omega Louis makes love matches, alpha Harry makes cheese, and meddling friends might finally make their dreams of finding their soulmate come true.

❤️ swimming in a champagne sea by delsicle / @eeveelou {E, 17k}

Louis is a supermodel. Harry is a celebrity photographer known for capturing the brightest up and comers in their most candid moments. They meet at London’s most exclusive New Year’s Eve party.

An alpha/alpha fic filled with confusion, banter, Ubers, and glitter

❤️ I've Always Liked the Fireworks by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {T, 12k}

When alphas and omegas reach the age of twenty-one they are required to attend a Proving Day ceremony. Omegas watch as alphas do their best to compete in events, show off their skills, and prove how good a mate they can really be. The whole thing is a bit ridiculous, but Louis Tomlinson has always dreamed of finding his mate. He's got two unsuccessful Sheffield Proving Days under his belt and decides to go for the much more competitive one in Manchester. His goal is to play his best, leave it all out on the pitch, and hope that one of the omegas watching just happens to be his mate.

❤️ a body wishes to be held & held by @turnyourankle {E, 12k}

Harry wants to return the favour after Louis helps him out with his heat.

❤️ Woke Up Feeling Knotty by @jaerie {E, 8k}

Beta Louis has a kink for knotting and the secret aesthetic porn blog he runs about it is more than proof. When he accidentally finds out his alpha best friend Harry is one of his biggest fans, he knows he has to come clean after everything that has already happened between them. Harry just might be willing to help him out anyway.

❤️ The World Will Open Its Arms by @lululawrence {NR, 4k}

Harry scrubbed at the countertop. It wasn’t even dirty, but it was three in the morning and the girl who was supposed to relieve him over an hour ago never showed. He was now on hour ten of his shift and his feet hurt and his back ached and he was trying not to cry, thanks to more fucking judgmental alpha truckers who could smell it on him.

Of course they could. He practically lived at the diner. The entire place reeked of it.

Unbonded pregnant omega.

❤️ Moon Dances Over by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {G, 2k}

Louis knows that his tail is, frankly, stunning. His iridescent blue scales shimmer in even the slightest sunlight, and his fins have grown since he presented, delicate and almost transparent in their webbing.

He also knows that that means he’ll be one of the first to pick tonight, as the most beautiful omegas are blessed to pick their mates first. It’s considered a huge honour, since the guppies they’ll eventually birth will certainly be beautiful as well, bringing favour on the whole clan.

Louis has a stubborn streak, though. He’s always been rather a fan of mating for love, and there’s someone he’s had his eye on for a long time now.

#larry fic rec #hlsource #1dsource #hlcreators #hljournal #trackinghome #tracksintheam #trackinghappily #greenfeelings #londonfoginacup #lululawrence #jaerie #turnyourankle #becomeawendybird #thinlinez #jacaranda-bloom #2tiedships2 #sadaveniren #hershelsue #helloamhere #kingsofeverything #phd-mama #juliusschmidt #eeveelou #absoloutenonsense #polkadotlou

[hqbbg]

still.

pairing: miya osamu x fem!reader

prompt: “I told you to stay still.”

genre: smut

word count: 5.3K (I got carried away, oops)

warnings: 18+, masturbation, some degradation, oral (f!receiving), fingering, some spanking, vaginal & unprotected s3x (make sure you wrap your presents, kids), like 2 seconds of cockwarming, uhm I think that’s it oop

author’s note: I'm back with another Haikyuu!! Headquarters collab piece! check out the master list of everyone else’s works here ✨ I hope y’all enjoy this!

The air in your room feels thick as you pant helplessly, feeling the familiar ache in your fingers as they begin to cramp up while plunging in and out of your sopping cunt. You feel so close to your own undoing, unable to control your thoughts as they drift to the man whose room is on the other side of your bedroom wall. You can’t help but think that it’s his fingers squelching within your warmth, though you’re sure they would reach much further than yours ever could.

You don’t do this often, touching yourself to the thought of your roommate while he’s out at work or running errands, but lately you’ve been frustrated.

When you had put out an ad for a roommate, you were hesitant. You didn’t have much of a choice, as your last roommate decided to move out in favor of moving in with her boyfriend, leaving you to scramble for a solution in order to continue to afford rent. As a full-time student with a part time job, it would’ve been inconvenient to move out in the middle of the semester, and it seemed reasonable to quickly search for a roommate to help with the bills until your lease was up.

Miya Osamu was hot, to say the least, though it wasn’t the main reason why you ended up choosing him to be your new roommate. On top of having manners and being financially stable, he knew how to cook and respected your space in the apartment. Unfortunately, you’ve been unable to say the same recently. The number of times his room door was cracked open as he changed almost made you consider that he was doing it on purpose, as if encouraging you to take a peek.

As you recall the way his back muscles flexed as he pulled his shirt over his head all those times you’d told yourself that you were just walking by, you let another moan slip past your lips. Your fingers begin to move quicker, toes curling, and you can feel your arm beginning to tire out. Your back arches as your other hand quickly moves to massage your neglected clit, rubbing harsh circles until your vision flashes white.

You fail to hear the front door open and close as your moans continue to fill the room. The memory of seeing Osamu stepping out of the bathroom in a simple pair of grey sweatpants with a towel around his neck is still fresh on your mind. You feel yourself clench around your own fingers as you recall your eyes briefly catching sight of the outline of his cock, the image practically ingrained within you. Too many times have you thought about how it would feel inside of you.

Another moan resonates on the walls and you bite your lip, though it does little to stop you from moaning Osamu’s name. Before you know it, you’re overwhelmed by pleasure and your whole body tenses before it relaxes. Your chest heaves as you lay there, trying to recover from your intense orgasm and you want nothing more than to sleep now. You hardly notice that your door is open.

Over the next few days, you can’t help but feel that something is off with Osamu. Though you aren’t particularly close, you’d like to think that you two have developed some sort of friendship with all the shared meals and evenings spent in the living room just chatting about life.

Did he hear you the other night? There was no way; you made sure to give yourself enough time before he was supposed to come home. Then again, you didn’t hear him come in…

Your cheeks begin to burn at the idea that he’d heard you. You let out a groan as you bury your face in your hands, leaning onto your desk. The little motivation you had to study has effectively disappeared and an unsettling mix of nervousness and shame begins to stir in the pit of your stomach.

Taking a deep breath, you try to push the dreadful thought out of your head and sit upright. An idea suddenly pops into your head and you abruptly stand up. You walk over to your door and poke your head out, scanning the area to locate your roommate. He’s conveniently in the kitchen, snacking on some leftovers he’d brought back from his restaurant the previous night.

“Hey,” you say awkwardly as you step out. He looks over at you and hums in acknowledgement, his mouth full. You decide to go ahead and speak, though your fingers fidget with the hem of your oversized shirt. “You’re not working tomorrow night, right?”

Osamu shakes his head, swallowing his food. “What’s up?”

“Well,” you hesitate, trying to find a way to come off as casually as you can, “I saw this recipe online for some salmon and vegetables, do you wanna be my guinea pig?”

“Sure,” he nods as he shrugs. “What time?”

“Dinner time,” you say, a little too eagerly. “How about seven?”

His lips quirk upwards into a small smile. “Sounds good to me.”

You watch as he takes another bite of his food before you realize you’re staring, clearing your throat.

“Okay, well, have a good night,” you say and quickly scurry back towards your room. Once you shut the door, you release a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. You swiftly move back to your desk, your forgotten notes pushed even further aside as you begin to look for that recipe you’d seen all those weeks ago.

The following day, you make a quick trip to the store to buy ingredients and find yourself nervously counting down the hours and minutes until it’s a reasonable time to start making dinner. You step out of your room to see Osamu already perched on a stool at the small island in the kitchen. He’s slouched over, scrolling through his phone when you walk up. He glances up and greets you with a small smile as you place your phone down near the center of the island countertop.

“Okay, so before I start, I just need to say that I’m definitely not a professional chef in any way,” you say as you move to wash your hands. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around the kitchen, pulling the vegetables from the fridge. You grab the apron hanging on the pantry door and sling it over your head, tying it behind your back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen ya wear that,” Osamu muses as he leans his cheek on his palm. His elbows are both propped up on the counter and you resist the urge to playfully roll your eyes.

“I have to make sure my shirt doesn’t get dirty,” you say, “it’s one of my favorites.”

He says nothing in response, opting for a light chuckle as you begin to wash the vegetables. Once you finish, you pull out the cutting board in front of him on the other side of the island, placing a carrot in the middle.

You open a cabinet and pull out a knife, giving it a quick rinse before positioning the blade to cut through the vegetable. Placing your fingers on the edge, you lift the knife just slightly.

“Hey, be sure to cats paw,” Osamu pipes up, pointing to the hand that’s on the carrot, “If yer not careful, you’ll knick yourself.”

“Huh?” You blink your eyes at him, trying to prevent yourself from sounding like an idiot.

“Like this,” he says, lifting his hand up and curling his fingers inward into a loose fist. You try not to focus on the veins lining his hands, tearing your eyes away and mimicking his motions. You see him drop his hand from your peripherals and finally attempt to cut into the carrot.

Before you know it, the knife slips from your grasp, making a shallow but clean cut across your index knuckle. You let out a curse and hiss as you drop the knife.

“Whoa, are ya okay?” Osamu stands as you begin to make your way to the sink, blocking your path.

“It hurts, but I’m fine,” you reply, looking at him curiously before glancing at your finger. You examine it for a moment, seeing the familiar crimson begin to bead.

“Let me take a look,” says Osamu, gently grabbing a hold of your wrist. He lifts your hand up closer to his face, his eyebrows slightly creasing as you do your best to resist the blush creeping up to your cheeks. “You should be careful.”

“Well, it’s not like this was intentional,” you grumble, unable to meet his eyes. He sighs softly and you glance at him, opening your mouth to say something. However, your train of thought is  completely derailed when his lips wrap around the small incision.

You feel his warm tongue gently lick around it and you can’t help but stare at the way his lips look around your finger. He catches your eyes and pulls away.

“I used to do this to my brother whenever he’d get hurt or something when we were little,” he says, letting go of your wrist. Your face is burning as you drop your hand back down to your side. “Wait here, I’ll go grab a bandage.”

You nod wordlessly, mind still reeling as you try to figure out and process what exactly had just happened. You watch his retreating figure head towards the bathroom, disappearing for only a moment before resurfacing with a familiar pink wrapper with Hello Kitty’s face scattered across the outside cover, a gift he had received from his brother. He makes his way back over to you, pulling the tabs apart and plucking out the bandaid.

Without prompting, you lift your hand up towards him and watch as he moves your hand towards him with his pinky, wrapping it around your finger.

“There, all patched up. Is that too tight?” He asks, picking up the trash and crumpling it in his fist. You lift your hand up and examine his handiwork, nodding in approval.

“It’s perfect,” you say, feeling your stomach flutter at the self-satisfied smirk that’s found its way onto his face. “I still have to cut the vegetables, though.”

“Hand it over; I’ll do it.” He motions towards the knife.

You pout, making no indication to hand the utensil over to him. “I kind of wanted to cut the vegetables though.”

He raises a brow at you. “Are ya sure? Ya already butchered yer first chance; I don’t want blood all over my kitchen.”

“Your kitchen, huh?”

Osamu shrugs. “I hardly see ya in here, so it might as well be.”

“So are you gonna help me or not?” You raise a brow and choose to ignore his statement as you cross the kitchen to grab your phone, pulling up the recipe to skim through the instructions before placing it back down. “I’m supposed to Juliette these vegetables.”

Osamu stays quiet for a moment. “Do ya mean julienne?”

“Yeah, same thing,” you wave your hand dismissively, walking back over to the cutting board. You pick up the discarded knife, giving it a quick rinse. Upon returning to your original spot at the island, your hands position themselves once again, curling your fingers like Osamu had previously shown you.

“Wait, yer gonna end up hurting yourself again,” he says as he walks up behind you. “How thin are ya trying to cut this?”

“About this much,” you reply, positioning the knife towards the edge of the carrot.

“Okay, first things first,” he says as he wraps his arms around you. Your eyes widen as you feel his chest press against your back, his hands moving to hold yours. “Ya have to cut it in half and get a flat surface.”

He grabs your hand holding the knife and moves it to the middle of the carrot, wrapping his thick and long fingers around the handle, completely swallowing yours. He ensures that his grip is stable before pressing down, the blade making a sharp cut.

“Okay, so now that ya have this, ya said ya want to make them look like noodles, right?”

You can only nod your head, afraid that your voice will crack if you choose to speak. Your head feels fuzzy, your senses overwhelmed by the scent of his musky cologne hitting your nose and the way his strong arms continue to guide you. The heat radiating off his chest envelops you in an oddly comforting embrace and something about it feels very domestic. You try hard to keep your knees from buckling under you, shifting your weight between your feet. You immediately tense when you accidentally press your backside against his hips.

Briefly scanning the island countertop, you see that his phone is on the other side where he’d originally left it when you began cooking and try to ignore the sinful thoughts threatening to infiltrate your mind.

“Makes sense?” Osamu says, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

“I-I think so,” you stammer, though you bite your lip and mentally scold yourself for your faltering voice.

“Alright,” he says, taking a step back. You exhale slowly, trying not to think of the loss of warmth. “While ya keep doing that, I’ll prepare the salmon. Where’s the recipe?”

“It’s on my phone.” You nod towards it, setting the knife down. He walks over to the side of the counter you’d left your phone at and brings it over to you. “What’s yer passcode?”

“That’s classified information, sir.” You see his eyes darken for a moment as you pluck your phone from his hand, typing in the digits before placing it in his open palm.

“Never thought you’d be callin’ me that so soon,” he says offhandedly, locating the recipe in your browser. You feel your lips part to say something, but no words come out.

You simply resume cutting the carrot and grab more vegetables, shaking your head to clear your wandering thoughts. You see Osamu grab the salmon from the fridge, pulling it out and getting some seasonings you’d bought earlier.

“Hey, can ya grab a pan from that cabinet there?” Osamu asks as he points to one of the bottom cabinets in front of your legs.

“Sure,” you nod and take a step back, opening the cabinet door and bending over at the hips. You rummage around for a decent-sized pan, feeling Osamu’s eyes on you before you straighten up. He’s quick to avert his eyes as he holds his hand out to you. You place the handle in his open palm and he takes it, setting it on top of the stove.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you prepare your own things, with you seasoning and cooking the vegetables while Osamu prepares the fish, searing it on the pan. As you both finish your portions, you decide to bring out your nicer plates for the occasion.

Opening one of the top cabinets, you stand on your toes to reach for the plates, wondering how they ended up so high to begin with.

“Need help?”

You jump slightly, startled when you feel his body pressed flush against yours with a hand on the dip of your waist as the other reaches above your head to grab two plates, placing them down onto the counter. You turn your head to look at him and realize just how close he is, his face merely centimeters away. His eyes are on your lips as you tongue pokes out to wet them before they flicker upwards to meet your eyes. You look up at him, anticipating his next move with bated breath, and feel his hand that had been holding the plates move to gently hold your jaw. He leans forward just slightly and your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet.

His lips move slowly against yours, though it’s nothing short of passionate. You feel his hand on your waist pull you closer to him and you lean into the warmth. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you open your mouth to welcome the warm muscle inside, letting him explore freely.

The both of you seem to run out of air at the same time, pulling away breathlessly. Before you can say anything, he kisses down your jaw to your neck as you crane your head just slightly so he can have better access and you’re not straining your muscles. He nips gently at the skin before dragging his tongue along, finding a particularly tender spot to pay special attention to. A hiss slips past your lips and you’re reminded of how close he is to you when you begin to feel something hardening against your backside.

“If ya wanna stop, ya have to tell me now,” he mutters against your neck as both of his hands settle on your waist, thumbs playing with the hem of your shirt.

“I’d rather not,” you admit rather shamelessly. You can feel Osamu’s lips curve upwards against your skin as his hands give you a slight squeeze.

“If ya say so,” he says before one of his hands reaches between the two of you to untie your apron. “If ya ever need me to stop, let me know.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, slightly dizzy from the reality of what’s happening right now. One of his hands begins to slide upwards from your waist, cupping your clothed breast and giving it a squeeze, while the other slips downwards under your apron and pushes past the waistband of your shorts, hovering over your panties. Suddenly very aware of the wetness between your legs, you move to close them a little.

“That won’t do ya any good,” Osamu mutters against the back of your neck. As if to prove his point, he presses his middle finger against your clothed slit and swipes upward, humming to himself. “Yer practically dripping and I haven’t even started yet.”

A moan slips past your lips and you can only bite your lip in embarrassment at your own shamelessness.

“It’s just the two of us; you don’t have to be quiet,” he says, as if encouraging you to be as loud as you want and disturb your neighbors. When you still refuse to make another noise, he nudges your legs open with his knees, almost forcing you to lean over the counter for support. As if to further prove his point, he pushes your panties aside and slips his middle finger in between your folds, causing you to let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden intrusion.

“Osamu,” you whimper as you feel him kiss his way towards the back of your ear.

“What is it, baby?” His finger is still and unmoving inside of you as you try to gain any sort of friction, attempting to grind your hips against him. His hand doesn’t move as you feel his tongue trace the outer shell of your ear.

“Stop teasing me,” you practically whimper as you ball your hands into fists on the surface in front of you.

“What do ya want me to do?” He sounds smug and you can almost visualize his teasing smirk behind your closed lids.

“Just fuck me,” you say. You fight the embarrassment heating your cheeks, too aroused to focus on anything else.

“I know we’ve been living together for awhile now, but let’s not forget our manners,” he says, beginning to slide his finger out.

“M’Samu, please fuck me!” It comes out too eagerly, too desperately, but you want him to just do something to you.

“That’s all you needed to say,” he lets out a soft chuckle before he slides his finger back in. You find yourself leaning completely on the countertop so you don’t buckle under him and moan when he slides another finger inside, stretching you.

You were right; his fingers reach so much further than yours ever could.

His calloused fingers continue to thrust in and out of you at a steady pace as his other hand that had been on your breast moves down to slip under your shirt. You bite your lip as you feel him expertly unclip the bra before sliding around to cup the flesh, nudging your loose bra aside. His fingers pinch your hardening nipple and you breathe out his name.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” he practically grunts, “if ya keep soundin’ like that, I won’t be goin’ easy on ya.”

Part of you has half the mind to take him up on the offer while the other is failing to form coherent words and thoughts.

A familiar tension begins to pull at your lower abdomen as you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. It seems that Osamu’s also aware, quickly slipping his hands out from your dripping cunt.

“Why’d you stop?” You whine as you turn back to look at him. He offers a smirk before removing his hands completely from your pants and lifting his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. The way his half-lidded eyes are locked on yours as he swirls his tongue around makes you clench helplessly around nothing.

“Don’t worry, yer gonna thank me later,” he says, dropping his hand. He begins to lower himself so he’s on his knees on the ground before he pulls your shorts and panties down in one clean tug. The cool air hits your wet heat and you bite your lip at the sensation.

You watch him with anticipation as he leans forward, using both hands to massage your ass a couple times before spreading the cheeks apart. He nudges your feet so you can spread a little wider for him, which you wordlessly oblige, and inhale shakily as he leans forward and licks a fat stripe up your slit.

“Fuck, Osamu,” you hiss as you turn back to look at him. You use one hand to reach around and weave your fingers through his hair, fisting it as he begins to sloppily lap at your cunt.

His tongue dives in and out, the wet squelch echoing around the apartment. You feel your legs tremble as he angles his head to reach a bit further before opting to have his fingers rejoin the fun. Your moans sound nearly pornographic as you attempt to grip at anything, unable to get yourself to properly stand as Osamu wags his head a couple times, swirling his tongue in the process.

A sharp gasp leaves you when you feel his fingers angle themselves and hit a spot you didn’t even know existed, your walls beginning to clench and flutter around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, pushing his head deeper against you. You feel him hum against you as if to encourage you to release onto his face, so you do.

A strangled cry erupts from your throat as you feel every nerve ending spark up and you come undone above him. He lets you grind your hips against him a couple more times before he pulls away, breathing heavily as he stands up. He turns you around by your hips and you see your slick coating his lips and chin.

“Look at this mess,” he taunts you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You don’t say anything and wrap your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to taste yourself. As you do so, he makes quick work to get rid of his sweatpants and pulls away to lift his shirt over his head. You go ahead and do the same with your apron, tossing it onto the island behind him and removing your shirt and bra to leave the both of you stark naked in the kitchen.

You take a brief moment to unabashedly check him out, admiring how toned and built he is. Chewing on your bottom lip, you let your fingers trace along the hardened and defined lines of his abdomen, trailing your fingers down to palm him through his boxers. You see the fabric straining and recognize the heat rising to your cheeks as you feel how hard he is, creating a slightly darkened and damp spot where the head of his cock is located. You glance up at him and meet eyes as you hook your thumbs on his waistband, pulling them down. His length practically springs to life, standing proud and tall before you and your mouth practically waters at the sight.

Wrapping your fingers around the base, you bite your lip as you drag your hand upwards to the tip and collect his beading precum, spreading it around generously with the pad of your thumb before using it as lubricant to continue stroking him.

“Fuck,” he moans softly as you lick your lips, getting ready to get on your knees to return the favor that he so generously had given you moments ago. He grabs your wrist to stop you and you look at him curiously. “As much as I’d love to see you suck my cock, I just want to be inside of that pussy of yours right now.”

The hungry look in his eyes is all you need before you kiss him again, this time much sloppier than the previous ones. He maneuvers you around the kitchen for a moment and before you know it, you’re bent over the island countertop with a leg propped up on the cool surface. You hear Osamu spit into his hand and look back to see him give his thick cock a couple generous strokes before positioning himself with one hand while the other holds your hip.

You feel the bulbous head nudge your lower set of lips apart before slowly easing in, your back arching at the pressure already building inside of you. A soft hiss escapes your throat as you try to take all of him, grateful when he pauses once he’s bottomed out within you. You take a deep breath for a moment and feel your muscles relax slightly as you adjust accordingly.

“Are ya ready?” Osamu’s voice comes out surprisingly soft as he leans over you, placing a kiss between your shoulder blades. You nod quietly before feeling both hands on your hips as he slowly begins to pull out. You realize just how thick he is when you feel empty, though it doesn’t last for long when he slams right back into you. A strangled mewl bubbles from your throat as he begins to thrust in and out of you. You lower yourself onto your elbows on the counter and ball your hands into fists, no longer caring how you sound; you’re too lost in your own wave of pleasure.

As Osamu continues his ministrations, you feel the counter buzz slightly and hazily look around with half a mind to simply ignore it. You see Osamu’s phone shaking across the surface next to your discarded apron, the screen lit up with an unfamiliar name.

“’Samu, your phone,” you say between moans, “your phone is ringing.”

His hips slow, though his thrusts continue to hit deep inside of you. He doesn’t have to reach far to grab it and glances at the screen.

“Shit,” he hisses under his breath. “Stay still for me, will ya?”

You halfheartedly nod your head, though you can’t help but whine at the loss of friction as he stills inside of you.

“Hello?” His voice is even as he answers quickly. “This is Osamu, yes.”

It’s hard to ignore the slight frustration bubbling in your chest as he uses one hand to keep your hips still while the other holds his phone. He continues to speak formally, so you assume it’s probably someone important or has something to do with work. You know better than to tease him in the event that this call is actually important, but you can’t resist the urge to just roll your hips a little.

There’s a slight hitch in Osamu’s voice before he clears his throat, though it sounds more like a warning to you than anything. However, that doesn’t stop you as you grow more bold, deciding to create your own rhythm of shallow thrusts. His grip on your hip tightens, though it’s not enough to hurt you just yet.

“Something just came up, so I’m gonna have to call ya back,” you hear Osamu say, his voice becoming more strained as each second ticks by. When he finally hangs up, the phone smacks onto the table, startling you to a halt.

“Sorry, I couldn’t w-”

“Ya think yer so cute, dontcha? I told ya to stay still.” His voice is dangerously low as he hunches over, practically growling in your ear. You whimper softly in response, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. You’re not sure if you should be as turned on as you are right now, feeling your walls clench around him.

He stands upright and reaches around to grab one of your arms, practically yanking you back so you’re also standing up. His other hand reaches around to grab your other arm, pinning your wrists behind your back.

“If yer gonna act like a slut, I’m gonna fuck ya like one,” he snarls lowly and you resist the urge to moan. He manages to reach for your apron and rolls it up, looping it around your elbows.

As one hand holds your newly bound arms behind your back, the other holds your hips before he begins to pull out of you. You feel his whole length leave you empty with the exception of the tip and you’re about to complain again when you feel him slam back in roughly.

“Is this what ya thought of when ya were touchin’ yerself?”

You hardly contain the cry of mixed pain and pleasure as your back arches, his hips snapping against yours at a relentless pace. You can barely process his words, though you know the embarrassment will hit you later; you simply can’t form coherent enough thoughts to care. The hand that was on your hip leaves but only momentarily before his palm claps against your ass. You yelp in surprise as he releases your arms.

“What, did ya never get spanked as a kid?” Osamu taunts as he rubs the reddening skin. You lean back over, supporting yourself on your elbows. His comment barely processes in your head as he does it again.

Coherent words fail to form as you feel your legs begin to tremble. You’re practically running towards another orgasm and you can tell Osamu is too, based on his unstable rhythm and sloppier movements. You feel one of his hands reach around you to play with your nipples while you let your own hand rub your clit, the sensations overwhelming you in a crashing wave of pure bliss.

As your walls tighten and flutter, Osamu pulls out and fists his cock a couple times before you feel hot ropes of cum paint your back and ass, a guttural groan leaving him.

“Holy fuck,” he pants once he recovers from his orgasm. You’re still shaking, bent over the island, breathing heavily.

A dull ringing can be heard in your ears from the intensity of your climax, but you faintly hear the sink running for a moment. Not long after, you feel a warm and damp towel wipe across the mess on your backside and Osamu’s gentle arm pulls you up.

“Hey, was I too rough on ya?” His voice is soft and you shake your head. He presses a kiss to your forehead as he hands you your clothes from the ground. “Do ya wanna eat now and shower later?”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” you sigh as your head begins to clear up. You look over to your forgotten food, your mouth curving downwards into a frown. “Wait, did you not turn off the stove?”

“I was a little preoccupied.”

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyū!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #miya osamu #osamu x y/n #osamu x reader #osamu x you #haikyuu smut #osamu smut #hrnybbg

[misstressshelby]

Lost Boy

Summary: You try your best to take care of the youngest Shelby and put him on the right track

Warnings: Language ( I really like the work fuck lol)

Word Count:1.358

Paring: Tommy/Reader (Reader is GN)

(A/N This is completely self-indulgent but while rewatching S2 I just got the urge to take care of Finn. He's just a baby and he deserved way better...also I have no idea how to UK school system works)

You hadn’t been married to Thomas Shelby for long, going on six months next week. You two had only known each other a year before he proposed and you had excitedly said yes. The wedding was simple with both families squished into the church. The reception was a different story. Cousins of cousins filled the Garrison and the streets outside. The party had gone well into the next morning. Long after you and Tommy had left, lost in yourselves and the thought of consummating the marriage.

You had taken up helping in the betting shop alongside Esme after your wedding. Slowly you were welcomed into the family meetings and dinners. Now you were ushered into the nook at the pub with open arms and jokes shared between the brothers. While you were getting closer to the Shelbys you still weren’t blood. You and Esme sat in on the meeting but never said a word. Occasionally you’d both share knowing looks or whisper about ongoings in private.

You had noticed during this time how the youngest Shelby was left unsupervised. Often forgotten in the chaos of Peaky business.

“Does Finn not go to school?” you asked your husband one night as you laid in bed.

“What good would it do? The boy can’t even read?” he chuckled before getting up to light another cigarette.

“We could get him a tutor, Tommy. We can afford it now.” You got up with him preparing for a fight.

“Where does he even stay most days Tommy? I always see him running around the street following Isaiah or in the pub. He should be in school getting an education.” You were starting to work yourself up now. Tommy just sat on the edge of your bed rubbing his hands down his face before tugging on his hair.

“I’ll deal with it.” He grunted and left for his office.

For the next couple of weeks, you saw Finn around the house more, usually in search of food. You had started sitting with him and eating the dinner Tommy would let get cold. You couldn’t help but grow fond of the freckled face smiling up at you. He would always wind up sweet-talking you into giving him desert. After these dinners, you had started sitting with Finn. Both of you would open a book and let him slowly sound out words for himself. You had set up a bedroom for him in one of the spare rooms. You slept better knowing he was safe at night. But it didn’t last.

It was payday so you and the other workers were at the Garrison drinking the money away. The other girls and you had downed a bottle of gin within an hour. You were tasked with getting another in the back of the pub. There you saw the lanky redhead bent over a table cutting Tokyo with an older peaky boy.

“OI, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?’ You screamed seeing red.

The other boy ran off leaving Finn alone looking as if he’d seen a ghost.

“I-I was just having some fun. Me and boys-’ he stuttered out.

“Fun?! You’re not old enough to have fucking fun. Do you know what that shit does to your head eh? ”You marched over to him and grabbed the blue bottle out of his hands.

“The boys do it when we’re blue sometimes is all.” He winced when you grabbed him by the ear. Dragging him out of the busy pub ignoring the looks from the others you started towards the shop. The door bounced off the wall, shaking the pictures that hung there.

“Sit!” You pointed at the couch in the middle of the living room.

You found Tommy where you’d left him leaned over his desk with a cigarette in his hand. He looked up with his eyebrows pulled together as you barged in.

“Do you know where I found this eh?” You threw the small bottle at him, “ You fucking brother yeah was cutting it up. Fourteen-fucking-years old and doing snow Tommy?! You said you’d handle it.”

“I did-” He started with a drag off his smoke.

“Does it look handled to you, Tommy? Now I’ve tried not to say anything cus I know I’m not blood” Tommy scoffed at that. “But that boy needs some guidance before he ends up on the fucking streets.” You continued pointing towards the door.

“Yeah? Do you think I don't have enough going on?! I can’t run the bloody business, deal with London, Campbell, and chase after Finn all fucking day can I?!” Thomas got out of his chair.

“No you can’t Tom but we can’t just let him run wild either.” You lowered your voice a bit. Yelling at each other would get you nowhere but the silent treatment.

“Then what do you want me to fucking do?” Tommy lowered his voice too but the harshness remained.

“I want him to move in with us. I’m going tomorrow and signing him up for school. We’ll find him a tutor. He’ll have some catching up to do but that's fine.” You crossed your arms across your chest and continued. “He is a smart, sweet boy and it'll be over my dead body that he doesn't do something with ‘is life. He will graduate from school. If he wants to go to uni afterward then he’ll do that too.”

You closed the space between you and your husband grabbing his jaw before kissing him. You felt him relax a bit under you.

“Isn’t that the point of all this? So they can have a better life than us? Finn can have the things we only dreamed of.” Looking into his blue eyes you pleaded with yours.

“ He’ll move in tomorrow and you sign him up for Saint Andrews yeah.” He kissed your temple before leaving out the door to Finn.

It wasn’t easy taking in a teenage boy much less making him go to school. There were many nights spent screaming about homework or crying over mathematics.

But it was worth it because you loved your little family. After you moved out of Birmingham and into Arrow House things got a little better. You got Finn away from the older boys he worshiped. Tommy found him a tutor who came three days a week.

He wouldn’t admit it but he liked having Finn around the house too. The three of you had dinner as a family every night at your repeated request. Tommy and Finn would often ride horses together on the weekends.

You sat reading in the library when you heard Finn running through the halls.

“OI, where do you think you’re going?” You asked as you rounded the corner into the living room.

“A level marks were posted today, yeah? Let me see?” You held out your hand out expectantly. The young boy, well a man now, rocked back on his feet and avoided your gaze.

“It’s okay if you didn’t pass Finn, lots of people have to retake the exams.” You softly smiled.

Finn Arthur Shelby

Writing-B

Reading-A

Arithmetic-C

Nature Study-B

WoodWork-A

“You passed Finn!” You squealed while jumping up and down shaking the paper in the air. You hugged the boy that now towered over you and shook him too. Tommy ran into the room with Mary right behind.

“What? What’s happened?” Your husband asked with wide eyes.

Turning to him with a smile still on your face you started jumping again, “He passed! He passed!”

Tommy looked at Finn who was now grinning too, a blush on his face from the attention. Tom just put a hand on his shoulder and gave a slight nod of his head. That was the equivalent of the show you were putting on for Tommy.

“Finn we are so proud of you! You’ve worked so hard. I’ll have the cook make the custard you like for dessert to celebrate.” You kissed the redhead on the cheek. As you left to tell the cook of your plans you looked back at your two boys sharing a rare embrace. You couldn’t help but feel pride in the man you saw before you.

#tommy shelby writing rec #tommy shelby reader #finn shelby #finn shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #my wrting #this is probably shit but thats ok

[otakusheep15]

SFW Alphabet - Beelzebub

My first two did way better than expected, so I’m gonna continue this series with the rest of the brothers (and maybe the others as well).

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is probably one of the more affectionate brothers (besides Asmo and Mammon). He’s quick to praise just about anything you do, even if it’s something small. As for physical affection, he is a sucker for hugs. He’ll randomly come up behind you and lift you up in a bear hug. Also, if you happen to cook, he’ll do that thing where he comes up behind you, wraps his arms around your middle, and lays his head on top of yours. Trust me, this boy does not shy away from affection, physical or verbal. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Honestly, he is the ideal best friend. You two would spend late nights sneaking into the kitchen for snacks and hoping to not run into Luci. You cheer him on at all of his games, and he’ll cheer you on if you do anything that involves competition. Being besties with him also means being besties with Belphie, so expect him to be a huge part of your life as well. You’ll often carry around snacks for him when he gets hungry. He likes to carry you around, both as a mini workout and because you’re tiny (compared to him) and he likes that he can pick you up so easily. 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He totally picked up his love of cuddles from his twin. His favorite position is him laying on his back with you laying right on top of him. It doesn’t matter how big you may seem, cause your weight is virtually nothing to him. He also enjoys laying on his back or side with you laying your head on his chest while you two hold each other because that’s how him and Belphie usually end up when they share a bed. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Out of all the brothers, he is the most likely to want to settle down. He loves you so much and he wants to spend as much time with you as possible. As for household chores, he’s surprisingly good at them. He can cook decently because of his sin, and he actually doesn’t mind cleaning. He’ll do a lot of the harder chores so that you don’t have to work as much, but he still appreciates if you help him out. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He is one of the kindest demons to ever exist, so the other person would have had to been really bad for him to break up with them. He’d probably just tell them straight up that their relationship isn’t working out. It would be simple and to the point, but he’d still try and be nice so that not as any feelings are hurt.  

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Like I said, he would love to settle down with you. However, he would never push the idea much unless he’s sure you feel the same. If you don’t want to settle down, then he is more than happy to just be with you however you want. And if you do decide you want to officially settle down with him, he’d be so happy. He’d want to get married asap to ensure that you two can spend more time together. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s a big boy, and he knows it, so he always tries to be as gentle as possible. Of course, he can get a bit intense, especially when he gets excited. When he gets this excited, he’ll wrap you up in a tight hug that sometimes makes it hard to breathe. As for emotional gentleness, he’s the sweetest of the brothers, so he’s usually gentle regardless. However, he’ll sometimes get angry or aggressive when he’s hungry or someone upsets him. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He is an absolute sucker for hugs. Physical touch is his main love language, so he loves giving hugs to everyone he cares about. You and Belphie are the main victims of his hugs, but his other brothers aren’t safe either. He also has a tendency to hug his teammates after a win.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Out of all the brothers, he probably the quickest to say it. He’s very affectionate by nature, so it’s no surprise that he would say it fairly early. That isn’t to say that he’s quick to fall in love, and he was honestly shocked when he realized he had fallen in love os fast. He’d be the type to say it super casually, maybe while y’all are just hanging out in the kitchen one night. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He isn’t super jealous simply because he trusts you. He knows that you’re loyal to him and that you love him like he loves you. Of course he has his moments; other demons hitting on you is the prime example. If this ever happens, his instincts tend to kick in since demons are possessive by nature. He’d probably feel bad after, but you assure him that it’s fine. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are super soft and filled with love. To him, your lips taste better than any sweet he’s ever had, so he loves kissing them whenever he can. Bonus points if you ate something super delicious before hand. On himself, he loves being kissed on his chest and stomach. He works super hard on his body, and he loves when you notice and take the time to truly show how much you love his body. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Out of all the brothers, he’s probably the best with kinds. Not that he necessarily likes them, he’s just kinda neutral towards them for the most part. However, for some odd reason, kids seem to love him. It’s kinda like how kids just know someone’s personality without actually knowing them, kinds just know that he’s a sweetheart underneath all that muscle. So, he eventually came around to them after he realized how much kids seemed naturally drawn to him. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings are usually spent with you getting woken up by him attempting to quietly get out of bed to go find food, despite the fact that he is never quiet during this time. After that, you two get ready and go down to breakfast, Most of the time, he tries to give you extra food to eat (cause that how he shows love) but you can never finish it all, so you give it to him. Then you walk to school together. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are usually spent hanging out in his room, sometimes with Belphie, but mostly without. You two spend some time together studying or just talking while accompanied by large amounts of snacks for him. You two then get into bed together and cuddle until he has to get up in the middle of the night due to hunger.  

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He seems pretty open on the surface, and he does trust you enough to tell you about his past fairly quickly, but there are some things he keeps hidden even after you two have been together for a while. he will eventually open up to you about everything, but it might take him a while. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He is pretty patient for the most part. Really, he only gets impatient if he’s hungry, or if someone is threatening/bothering someone he cares about. Besides that, he’s the most patient and respectful demon around. He’ll help you out with whatever you need, and he’ll never yell at you or rush you if you need some time. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

This boy remembers everything you tell him. It could be the smallest of details or something you just said in passing, but he’ll still remember it. It’s honestly quite surprising how good of a memory he has. If fact, he’s probably the brother who has the best memory just in general. 

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite memory is the first time you cooked for him. Not when you have cooking duty, since that’s cooking for the whole house, but when you made something specifically for him. You made him a human world cheese burger since that’s his favorite. He actually teared up a little at the sight of it. Not only was it his favorite meal, but it was made by his favorite human. Obviously, it wasn’t enough to fill his stomach, but it was more than enough to fill his heart. Ugh that was so cheesy.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is super, SUPER protective. Not just of you, but his whole family. After all, he is physically the strongest, and he knows how intimidating he is. If he finds someone bullying you or one of his brothers, he will not hesitate to eat them, demon or otherwise. Secretly though, it can get tiring being the protector of his family, which is why he appreciates when you stand up for him.  

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Honestly, he tries so hard to make everything perfect. Usually, he tries to theme dates around food, and he always tries to make you something (or get Belphie to make something) but he almost always ends up eating it, which makes him really sad because he tried so hard. However, you tell him that whatever he does is absolutely perfect, and you love him regardless of how date plans end up. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Obviously, his eating habit tend to get pretty bad, but it’s not like he can really help that. His hunger does calm down when you two get together, but it’s still very much there. He often steals your food, or forces you away from whatever you were doing in order to take you to get food. He’s currently trying to ease up, but it’s difficult for him and he needs time to learn how to control his urges better. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not very concerned with his looks in the same way Asmo and Mammon are, but he does like to take care of his body. He works very hard to maintain all that muscle, and he loves the attention it gets him. He’s not all that vain, but having people admire his body does give him a little confidence boost. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely he would. You help quell a large part of his hunger, and he could not imagine his life without you anymore. Honestly, you could leave him for two minutes to use the bathroom, and he’ll still sulk like a lost puppy the entire time. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I headcanon that he is actually the most self-conscious of all the brothers. Where Levi is more open about how much he hates himself, he usually tends to keep it all in, making it even worse. The only time he ever lets it out is in moments where he feels safe and at ease. These times are usually with you and/or Belphie. It’s kinda shocking at first when you find out just how much he hates himself, but it does make sense. He blames himself for Lilith’s death, he is constantly just watered down to food and muscles, and almost everyone is super scared of him. It’s no wonder he would start to act like Levi, even if just behind closed doors. 

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He despises anyone who cooks like Solomon. In general, he hates anyone who goes after the people he cares about. He also doesn’t like people who are super obnoxious or self-centered (Asmo is an exception cause he can’t really control that). 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Obviously, he has that habit of waking up at random hours of the night for food. But, when he’s actually asleep, he has a tendency to fall out of bed. He is larger than average, even for a demon, so it would make sense that his bed might not always be able to hold him. When he sleeps with someone, they can also expect to be pushed out at least once. 

#OBEY ME #shall we date obey me #shall we date beelzebub #beelzeebub #headcanon #sfw alphabet

[amorousadepti]

❈ flood in my heart (childe x reader)

another belated birthday fic, this time for dear rat boy (*￣▽￣)b honestly did not expect to fall so hard for this bastard but here we are!! he’s an absolute fave and im not ashamed. actually Would have gotten this one out at the right time but my internet decided to quit on me so :^) sorry 

summary: childe has plans for you on his birthday. you have plans of your own. the day takes a turn neither of you expect, but you’re not complaining (gn!reader, no pronouns or anatomy descriptions)

warnings: loosely-described fight scene, vague violence, childe being childe

length: 2.7k

The letter is delivered first thing in the morning, sitting on your tray of breakfast and propped against your steaming teacup.

You take your time before opening it. When your belly is pleasantly full with crab roe tofu and you're sipping from your third cup, you finally deign to lift the plain envelope from the tray, studying it intently. Though it bears no name, you already have an idea of the sender; you'd never admit it, but you've been anticipating this day for a while. 

Your suspicions are proved correct when you slit the envelope and find a letter written in Childe's familiar chicken-scratch scrawl. It no longer occurs to you to wonder how he knew where you were staying - by now, you know that if Childe wants to find you, he will. Munching idly on a crisp lotus flower, you consider the invitation. 

If you have no special plans, how about you swing by my place? 

Was it just wishful thinking, or was he—

You shake the thought from your head, taking another emphatic bite of lotus crisp. The day is still young. You have plenty of time to bathe, dress, and then make your way to Liuli Pavilion. 

(And if you spend just a little more time than usual on your appearance, making sure to spray the perfume he'd once impulsively bought you on each pulse point - well, that's no one's business but yours.)

"Comrade!" Comes the customary greeting once you finally wander into the Pavilion. Childe bounds up to you with a vibrant grin, sweeping you into an embrace that lifts you onto the tips of your boots. "I was hoping you would come!" 

You hum, leaning into his embrace and desperately fighting the instincts that tell you to bury your face in the crook of his neck and breathe deep in his familiar scent - saltwater and cold iron and the warm musk of his skin. You allow yourself to indulge only for a few seconds, then step back to a respectful distance (though Childe, disregarding the memo, follows and keeps an arm linked with yours.) 

"Happy birthday, Chi—"

"Ah, ah, ah!" He wags a finger at you, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. "It's my birthday, comrade - the least you can do is call me by my name, no?" 

"Happy birthday, Ajax." You squeeze his hand, his fingers moving to twine with yours. "And many happy returns." 

Childe beams at you, a faint glimmer in the usually dull blue of his eyes as he starts to pull you after him. "Now, I did say I have some plans for you—" 

"You don't want your gift first?" The way he whirls on his heel, clearly thrilled at the prospect of being lavished with gifts, is... endearing. You raise the bag in your free hand, wiggling it tantalizingly. "It comes in a few parts, actually."

"You spoil me, comrade," he simpers, unsubtly trying to swipe for your bundle of treasures and pouting when you withdraw. You roll your eyes in fond exasperation, pulling out the first part of your gift: a small white box that fits in your palm, bound with a delicate blue ribbon. 

"Open this first." You don't even need to tell him, really - he's quick to snatch the little box from your hand, though you notice he takes surprising care in untangling the ribbon. His expression softens when he holds your gift in his palm, rolling the little white whale between his fingers as he studies every intricately carved detail.

"It's made from a whale's tooth, too," you blurt, suddenly desperate to fill the silence. "It's from Inazuma - the merchant said she only had a few left, managed to snag them before the border closed. I thought of you when I saw it. Thought maybe it could be a good luck charm or something." 

"Coming from you, it has to be lucky," Childe says, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. He tucks the carving into a little pocket (just over his heart) and pats the spot where it rests gently, his smile small but honest. "Thank you. I'll take good care of this." 

You clear your throat, averting your eyes as you thrust the rest of the bag at him. "These, too."  

He peers inside, and you watch his brow furrow as he studies your prizes: an array of shackles and chaos cores and a few jars of slime concentrate to boot. The fruits of many battles, compiled over the past two months. Comprehension dawns quickly, his hands clenching into fists around the rucksack as he glances up to meet your eyes. 

"That bow of yours could use an upgrade, right? Especially if you want any chance of beating me today," you say demurely, a faint smile pulling at your lips. "Once you're done, meet me at the Golden House. But don't expect me to take it easy on you just because it's your birthday." 

The smile that curls his lips is nothing short of bloodthirsty. It makes your heart flutter. "I wouldn't dream of it, Comrade!" 

The sound of his laughter follows you through the streets, spurring you onward. Sneaking past the Millelith is easy enough - this is far from your first time, after all. Honestly, you're pretty sure none of them are willing to deal with the hassle of you and your Fatui opponent. You slip through the great door with only the faintest creak, stretching to loosen up your muscles as you amble down the sloping stairs to the center of the floor. Your favorite battlefield. 

You're still stretching casually when the hair on the back of your neck prickles, carefully honed instincts suddenly crying danger! You call your sword as you stand straight, rising just in time to bat away the Hydro arrow that would have caught you in the right shoulder. Droplets of water splatter your face, a cool spray that sets your nerves ablaze with anticipation. Your blood pumps quick as Childe steps into view, Vision glowing at his hip. 

"Oh, comrade," he sighs, almost dreamily. "You really do know just what I like!" 

His voice is drowned beneath a cacophony of water as he launches himself at you, barely giving you enough time to raise your shield before he crashes into it with a splash. Your muscles strain, a fine tremble in your limbs betraying the force of his blow. Your heart pounds with excitement, a grin twisting your lips in answer to his eager smile. 

He leaps back, dodging a slash from your dagger, and knocks you off balance with a Hydro attack to your knees that sends you staggering back. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to cook you a hearty meal after I beat you." 

"Don't get cocky, now," you huff, finding your feet. You move together in a predatory circle, each waiting for the other to strike. "You haven't beaten me yet."

"True! Which will make my victory today all the more special," he chirps, bouncing a little on his heels with glee. "Do I get another gift if I win?" 

"So greedy, Ajax," you breathe, digging your heels in as you weather another rapid onslaught of arrows. "The pleasure of my company isn't enough for you?" 

"I can think of more ways to indulge in your company, dear comrade," he purrs when your blade locks with a ridge of his bow, leaning close over your crossed weapons. His tongue, hot and quick, licks a trail across your cheekbone. 

You lash out with a sloppy swing of your blade, striking only air as the Harbinger leaps back with a gleeful cackle, twisting on his feet so he can fire another shot at you. You roll nimbly out of its path, grimacing as you scrub at your cheek with the back of your hand. 

Oh, you definitely won't be making this easy for him. 

It's impossible to tell how much time passes in the Golden House; whenever you're here with him, it's like the world reduces to only you and Childe, the clash and tangle of your bodies across the hallowed floor. It could be hours or only minutes. Whatever the case, you're both panting, dripping sweat, and sore by the time you see an opening in his guard, launching yourself towards him for the decisive blow. 

Except— 

His bow clatters to the ground, discarded from limp fingers. Childe stands still and quiet, arms hanging at his sides, and the expression on his face as he watches you charge, blade-first, is like nothing you've ever seen from him before. 

You lower your sword, your boots skidding on the floor - but not fast enough to stop your collision, and you faceplant into Childe's chest with a grunt. One arm wraps around your waist, holding you close; the other finds the wrist of your sword arm, extended carefully behind you. For a moment, it feels like an embrace, just as warm and affectionate as the one you'd shared with him earlier. 

Then he twists your arm hard enough that you cry out, your sword falling to the ground with a clang, and the next thing you know, you're flat on your back, Childe's hands encircling your wrists to pin you in place. 

The puff of each exhale fans over your lips, his narrow chest heaving as the two of you catch your breath. You test his grip and find it unyielding, strong as shackles. Childe watches you writhe beneath him with a quiet intensity that both unsettles and thrills you, something about the glint in his eyes making your heart turn over in your chest. Somehow, it feels as though you've lost much more than a friendly spar. 

"My," he chuckles finally, though his grasp on your wrists remains like iron. "I have to be honest, I wasn't sure whether you would stop!" 

You toss your head, glaring up at him without much heat. "That was a dirty trick." 

"I know," he says, releasing one arm to tenderly brush the hair away from your sweat-slick forehead. You don't take advantage of the moment of weakness. He does not apologize. That's good - you think you'd be more annoyed if he said sorry without meaning it. "But it seems that it's my win, comrade." 

You sigh through your nose, exasperated but unwilling to fight. "That it is." 

He hums quietly, still studying you with that strange look - you feel oddly naked, pinned beneath his gaze. The hand that remains around your wrist squeezes gently, gloved thumb grazing your pulse point; you try to restrain a shudder, but from the way his eyes sharpen, you doubt you succeed. 

"Now, now..." He sighs in a show of exaggerated thoughtfulness. "What should my next gift be?"  

You grumble something vaguely along the lines of not having agreed to another gift. Childe ignores you steadfastly, snapping his fingers in realization. "How about a kiss?" 

You snort, prepared to brush the request off as another bit of harmless flirting, but the look in his eyes is not one of jesting. Your mouth suddenly feels dry, and you wet your lips with your tongue before you speak again. The way his cobalt eyes flicker to watch your mouth does nothing to help your focus. "Seriously?" 

"Why not?" He says, shrugging as though he hasn't just knocked your world off-kilter. Your mouth opens, but before you can speak, you feel his fingers caress your jaw, his thumb resting on the pad of your lower lip. The leather is blessedly cool; you feel feverish in comparison. He's looking at you like he could swallow you whole, and you think you would let him. "A kiss from my most beloved comrade... now that's a gift I would really treasure."

You inhale, a ragged, gasping thing that sounds more post-coital than post-battle, and lay still beneath his hand. The thought that you have yet to actually respond fails to occur to your fogged brain - until suddenly the contact is gone, the loss of his touch echoing in your chest, and something in Childe's expression wavers before he's sitting up, a smile that doesn't reach his eyes on his lips. He's shutting himself off from you. Again.

"Ah, well, it was only a jo—mmph!"

Huh. If you'd known a kiss was all it took to stop his rambling, you might've given into your desires earlier. 

His lips are a bit chapped but pleasantly warm against yours, and his breath smells surprisingly sweet - it seems you weren't the only one indulging in Liyue's traditional snacks today. He hadn't been prepared for you to pull him down, and for a breathless moment his full weight rests upon you; there's a guilty exhilaration in feeling the length of him pressed against you, his long legs tangled with yours and strands of his hair tickling your cheeks. Your fingers knot tightly in his red scarf, holding him so close you think you can feel the pounding of his heart in your own chest. When your tongue flicks against the plush of his bottom lip, he moans sweetly, a shudder wracking his lithe frame as he opens for you, a gloved hand cupping your cheek. You taste blood in his mouth and can't tell whether it's yours or his. The thought excites you, your heart hammering as your blood grows hot. 

A strand of saliva, tinted pink with blood, connects your mouths when Childe pulls away with a ragged gasp. His lips are swollen from your kiss, a deep flush coloring his cheeks to the tips of his ears, and his eyes are wide and startled. They almost—

Shine. 

"Comrade!" Childe exclaims, reeling back on his heels. You've never seen him so... off-balanced, his hands twitching helplessly in the air. You decide you like him this way. "H-How bold of you!" 

You blink, lazily propping yourself up on your elbows. "You were the one that asked for a kiss in the first place." 

He seems to fluster even more at the reminder, hiding his mouth behind his wrist. "I didn't think you'd actually do it!" 

"Aw, Ajax," you coo. Much to your delight, the blush on Childe's cheeks grows even darker, a red glow creeping down his neck. "Is the big bad Harbinger flustered all because of a little kiss? What would Scara say if he saw you like this?"

Childe grimaces. "Don't mention him right now, please." 

You laugh, loudly, until Childe's hands clamp down on your shoulders, pinning you to the ground once again. Your breath stutters as you look up at him, finding him watching you intently; that same strange, searching look as before, but mixed with something darker. 

Hungrier. 

"You should be more careful, offering a gift like that so freely," he murmurs - a breathless purr like you've never heard before, the promise of danger in his voice making your thighs clench. One hand moves to gently nudge the band of your shirt off your shoulder, the brush of his fingers against your bared skin sending your nerves sparking. "I might want you to give me even more."

The words spill from your lips easily, without thinking. "Then take more." 

Childe stares down at you wordlessly. He's barely breathing, lashes fluttering when you reach out and catch his hand, slipping your fingers under the tight line of his glove until you can peel it off his fingers. He says your name, soft and wondering. 

"You said that this was a gift you'd treasure..." You guide him to the tie of your blouse. Unprompted, his fingers curl around the loose knot. "So make sure to take good care of me, Ajax." 

Your blouse falls open with a gentle tug, and Childe falls upon you, locking your lips in a messy kiss as his hands roam your body wildly, seeking out every scrap of bare skin he can find. You're pulled onto your knees to straddle his lap as he sits back and pulls you atop him, breaking from your mouth to trail bruising bites down the length of your throat. The force of his desire crashes down upon you like a wave, filling your lungs with only him. 

You're glad to drown. 

#genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #sfw #birthday fic

[sambvcks]

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter four // three days on drunken sin

summary: bucky decides to rifle through those boxes and finds the will to make the first move.

warnings: food/eating, nothing too bad this time!

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: how are we feeling about this week’s episode?? we’re getting closer to the start of tfatws with this chapter!! hope i don’t break your heart too much with the boxes :)

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The boxes taunted him for three days.

Three stacks of two boxes each cluttered his entranceway, each with that familiar scrawl of Steve’s God-awful handwriting.

‘BUCKY’

All caps, in black Sharpie, underlined three times just for good measure. Steve was always good at getting his message across.

He didn’t want to know what was in them, he told himself. But Steve was gone, and this was all he had left. These, that stupid notebook he still hadn’t found the will to write in, and the shield that was kicking around Sam’s apartment somewhere.

He wanted to toss them in his building’s dumpster, to push these aside like he did with everything else in his life. Out of sight, out of mind. That week, he didn’t tell his therapist about the boxes, or Sam’s unexpected visit, or his neighbor that he was now avoiding like the plague. Thankfully, she chalked his silence up to Steve and tried to fill in the conversational lulls with suggestions of amends and lists and he just wanted to go back to sleep.

Like always, sleep never came.

He knew the single night in his bed was a fluke, but he kept trying at least. He’d untuck his flat sheet from under hit mattress, fluff his pillow, and tuck himself in. Within five minutes, he was back on the hardwood floor of his living room, the lamplights illuminating his window and casting a perfect shadow on those stupid boxes. Finally, on the third night, he huffed a sigh and sat up, his arm whirring at the sudden movement. He wasn’t accomplishing anything letting them sit and gather dust.

Bucky reached under the cushions of his couch, fishing for the knife he had stashed away and got to work slicing through the clear packing tape securing each one.

The first five boxes were files. Mission reports, everything Steve could get his hands on about The Winter Soldier. The translations were rough, the descriptions weren’t as vivid as he remembered them now, and it wasn’t even close to everything. Why Steve kept them when Bucky was working to erase every trace of this from the universe, he would never understand. Steve was sentimental, even with the bad stuff. Bucky glanced over the files scattered across his entranceway, which maybe amounted to a year of his missions. If Zemo had looked in some suburb in upstate New York, he would have found everything he needed.

The dumpster behind his building was starting to feel more and more enticing.

The last box felt different. Significantly lighter and smaller, the items rolling and clanking as he dragged it towards him. He braced himself for more files, more reminders of what he had done as though they didn’t exist in his mind every second of the day.

The first thing he recognized was his mother’s handwriting. ‘Recipes’, scrawled so perfectly on a yellowing label.

The tin box was tinted with age, dented after so many years. He laughed and could remember it tucked away on the top shelf of the cabinet by the fridge, just out of Rebecca’s reach, even when she’d stand on her tiptoes in search of it. His Ma rarely fished it out, other than to let his little sister read over the ingredients with sticky hands as she helped stir pots and peel potatoes. She had them memorized by the time she was a teenager, having transcribed her own mother’s recipes onto these little cards. He was sure Rebecca did, too.

Next was the worn fabric of his Ma’s favorite apron. Yellow embroidered flowers scattered the crimped edge, strings falling loose. He recognized some of the stains, from spaghetti night and cake batter that she let dry on the cloth for too long.

Finally, a worn silver chain was buried at the bottom of the box.

JAMES B BARNES 32557038 T42 A

Of course, Steve with all his connections and know-it-all attitude and ‘I can do this all day’ would find some way to find his dog tags, probably tucked away in some ancient Hydra file. His flesh fingers ran over the indentation of his name, pressed into metal like millions of other boys had, off to fight a war that had nothing to do with them. Everything to lose, nothing to gain.

When he was most alone, settled into muddy trenches with wet socks and a stiff military jacket, he would recite those numbers out into the night sky. He’d map constellations over his head, wondering if it would be his last night and all there would be left of him would be those stupid discs of metal clanking around his neck and the letter tucked away in his jacket breast pocket, addressed to his mother.

His mother was long gone, he knew that. But to a fully conscious James Buchanan Barnes – not the Winter Soldier - he had only seen her a few years ago when he shipped off.

After a moment, he pulled the chain of his dog tags over his head, settling them under his shirt. His ears rung with the sound of footsteps in the hallway. The sound of dragging feet and the jangle of your keychain signaled your return from class.

His family was gone, Steve included. The only people he has left are halfway across the world, or off on some death-defying mission wearing metal bird wings. Except you, who still leaves bags of cookies on his front door mat, despite the silent treatment from his end. His maybe too friendly neighbor who poured over lists of albums for him to find taped to his door in barely legible handwriting when you should have been studying.

His mother’s recipe box was calling his name.

-

The knock on your door startled you from your nap. Well, if you can call dozing off at your desk using a law book as a makeshift pillow a nap. You stalled in your desk chair, eyes bleary as you squinted at your front door, then at the top corner of your computer.

2:36 AM

You nuzzled back into your book, content to chalk it up to your sleep deprived brain making things up.

The second knock was much more insistent and was certainly coming from your door. You rushed out of your chair, sock-clad feet dragging the blanket draped across your shoulders as you shuffled over, the knocking never ceasing. You blinked the sleep from your eyes, peering out your peephole into the dark hallway.

Bucky, with slumped shoulders and a bowed head, trying with all of his might to make himself as small as possible still took up so much of the doorway with his broad shoulders.

You should be mad at him.

You should go to bed, ignore him like he’d been ignoring you for the past few weeks. Like you hadn’t shared late nights and he hadn’t sat in your kitchen, licking your spoons clean or tucked into your couch just to watch you study, a new record playing gently. Your forehead pressed to the door, vile building in your throat as seething words collected on your tongue.

“I know you’re there.” His voice was muffled through the wooden door, feeling so close but sounding so far away. “We should work on you dragging your feet, doll.”

If you had taken another peek, you would have seen him pressing his forehead to the other side.

“You ignored me, Bucky.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere, even through the door. “Some family stuff came up. But it’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

It’s so stupid, letting yourself get so attached to the first guy to bat his eyelashes and read to you. It’s idiotic to want him to seep into your days and nights, to never leave like he had left you, after only knowing each other for a month.

It’s so foolish to open the door. But you do it anyways.

He swallows as he stands straight, and the widening of his eyes tells you that he wasn’t expecting you to give him a second chance.

“I, uh, here. Thought I’d finally return the favor.”” Bucky shoves forward a plate of cookies, misshapen and unevenly cooked. His eyes finally found yours. “My mom’s recipe.”

Family stuff, you remembered. The weight of the plate felt heavy in your hands, almost as heavy as his gaze on you as you lifted one of the lesser burnt cookies to your mouth and took a timid bite.

Bucky, you’ve come to learn, gives his love in silent acts of approval. He shines when you tell him his singing isn’t totally awful or that he makes a great sous chef, eyes crinkling when you approve of his music choice for the night or compliment the voices he picks when reading from his books. As he watched you, you felt that this cookie meant more to him then just flour and eggs.

He was reaching out, terrified of your rejection.

“You made these?”

“Alright, I’m not totally helpless.”

“They’re amazing, Bucky. Your mom should be proud.”

He returned your smile, knowing that she wouldn’t be. How could she, after all that his hands have done? Hands that should’ve been home, hoisting his sisters onto his shoulders. Hands that should have been helping set the table and at work so they had something to eat in the first place.

He looked so timid in your hallway, unsure of the next move. You rolled your eyes, moving to clear your doorway, despite his hesitation.

“Come on.” You spoke, like ushering in a stray cat with the promise of food and love.

He took the first step forward, shoulder to shoulder, head tilted down to catch your playful gaze with his serious one. Your mouth opened to make some sort of quip to ease the tension, but the words died in your throat as he pressed his forehead against yours for just a second.

His eyes closed as he drew in a single serene breath through his nose.

He was gone as quickly as he had come, moving further into your apartment and directly to your shelves of records, gloved fingers grazing over the sleeves in contemplation for his first choice of the night. As you finally collected yourself enough to close the door, you wondered how many people in the world had ever loved Bucky Barnes enough to give him a second chance.

taglist: @tisthedamninez @wcndamaxcmoff @freyagallileaevans @bibliophilewednesday @justtoreblogfics @teti-menchon0604 @l-adysansa @heart-eyes-horan @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @rexorangecouny @dilfvision @urafakebetch @comphersjost @am-tired-bois @spid3rgwen @beautyandthebleh @euphoricaaaa @inadquacy @mackycat11 @withyoutilltheendofthismess @motherofallthesmallthings @victoriabaker112213 @macrillez @stvalentiness @nova10711 @tailsoflightning @okiegirl24 @qhbr2013 @beachbabe925 @weenersoldierr @venusinart @marvel-mistress @orthellqs @phasma-trash @beni-angie @infinitely-yellow @riverlethe1

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #tfatws #tfatws imagine #sab writes #crawl home to her

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek Day 3 (6-15): “That wasn’t supposed to happen” | Reconciling with Tim | Autistic!Damian

Note: at this point, this is just "Damian cries and Dick hugs him" week. Someone send help. I love these two so much.

Warnings: angst and tears and Damian being a ball of separation anxiety.

---

The smell of sea salt mixed with the pollution of Gotham's coast is almost close to nauseating. If Damian hadn't already been feeling anxious and sick to his stomach, he would definitely be now.

And the thing is, he doesn't even know why.

It's been this way all night. It started before tonight, even. He's convinced himself it's probably something he had for lunch, but even a child would know that's a weak grasping of straws. No one ever gets sick from the food made in the Wayne Manor, not when Alfred is there to cook it.

But he tells himself it's because of that anyways. He feels sick to his stomach because the lettuce in his sandwich must have been old. Not for any other reason. And certainly not because his father has been off-world for the past month and Richard is once again holding the mantle of Batman while he's away.

"What do you say about heading home early?" Richard asks from where he stands besides Damian. The word home grates on Damians nerves for reasons that he... cannot bring himself to comprehend.

Damian nods his head, not saying anything. It's been a quiet night in Gotham anyways. His nerves feel fried from the constant anxiety pressing in his chest and he's sure the moment he gets to his bed he'll pass out.

Or at least stare blankly at the ceiling until he does.

The ride back to the manor is silent between Damian and Richard. Almost a month ago, it used to be loud with banter whenever he and Richard had a minute to themselves. They'd get back at the manor and Alfred would be there to pester them into taking care of themselves. Cassandra and Duke would enter and leave as they wished with the occasional appearances of Timothy and Jason. The only time they had to themselves was inside the batmobile, as there's not much private banter you can have while defending the streets either.

But it's silent now. Damian's chest and stomach hurts and no words seem to want to come to his throat, but he's not usually the one to start the conversations anyways. Something is keeping Richard silent as well. The thought that, for whatever reason, Richard doesn't want to talk to him makes his anxiety spike just the same as the thought of conversation.

It feels like the second they pull into the cave Damian's jumping out of the car and stalking towards the changing rooms. Alfred let's him stride past, lifting an eyebrow as he does, but he doesn't stop him. Alfred simply walks over towards Richard and offers him a cup of tea from the metal tray he's been holding.

Damian can hear the low rumble of words beginning to be exchanged between the two, but he's already too far away to make sense of them. He doesn't care to listen anyways. He just wants to get dressed and go to bed without anyone talking to him.

Without anyone asking him what's wrong. They must notice something is wrong, right? What would he say if they do ask? No. No one knows anything is wrong. Because nothing is wrong. Everything is okay.

He dresses into a clean pair of pajamas that feel fresh from the dryer and heads straight towards the exit of the batcave, not sparing Richard or Alfred a glance as he does so.

Everything is okay. He ate something bad for lunch.

That's all.

He manages to get all the way to his bedroom without running into anyone. Cassandra and Duke must be busy tonight, and he can't think of any reason why Timothy and Jason would be here at this hour of night. It's not surprising he didn't run into anyone. Why does he almost wish he had?

He shakes his head and closes the door behind him. Whatever is making him feel this way, it will go away if he rests. He's sure of it.

Wordlessly and single-mindedly, he removes the decorative pillows from his bed and pulls down the sheets. In a few practiced and fluid movements, he's under the covers and glaring at the ceiling, his stomach clenching.

There's glow in the dark stars above him, made of plastic and held to the ceiling with fun-tak. His eyes drift to a bigger glowing figure, it's circular and there's swirling patterns that mimic the global storm of Jupiter's surface. Another has two rings, like the planet in Treasure Planet.

Richard put them up the second month after Damian first came here. Damian had expressed... desires... to study and learn how kids who weren't raised in the League of Assassins lived. Glow in the dark stars was something Richard very much enjoyed getting off of Amazon that night, saying they were all the craze when he was younger. Every friend he visited had them in their bedrooms. His own childhood bedroom still has some old and dim ones hanging on the ceiling from when he convinced his father to get him some.

He didn't understand the appeal of them then. Nor does he now. Perhaps it's something to do with children in Gotham never seeing the actual stars because of the light pollution. All he knows is that in the desert he grew up in... these fake green plastic decorations do not compare to the galaxy he used to see as if the only thing separating him from the universe was a single pane of glass.

He turns away from the fake stars, closing his eyes, before they open again to glare now at his bookshelf, filled to the brim with books of all kinds and Cheese Viking figurines. There's a collectable coin there too, one Richard accidentally won way back when he decided to buy a mystery box from some website. It turned out to be pretty rare. He gave it to Damian and Damian got curious enough to look up the game.

It's his favorite game now. Because Richard found him a random gold coin.

Richard. His stomach clenches. Why won't it stop hurting? He has no reason to be this anxious.

No reason at all.

There's a soft knock on his door. Damian shifts so he's holding himself up on his elbows, watching as the door opens to reveal none other than Richard. His hair looks damp from a shower, which makes Damian wonder how long he's been glaring at random things in his room. He's dressed in an old Gotham Knight's tee-shirt with mustard stains around the right breast. Damian went to a game with him when he was wearing that shirt. He accidentally got shoved into Richard in the crowd, looking for their seats, when Richard was holding a hotdog. It got all over him, but the mustard is the only thing that persisted multiple rounds in the washer.

"Dami? You up?" Richard asks. Damian reaches over and turns on the dim lamp by his bedside.

Richard's eyes settle on him, and he smiles. It looks strained though.

That festering, lingering anxiety spikes.

"What is it?" He asks.

Richard walks into the room, then sits down on the side of Damian's bed. Damian bends his knees to allow room for him. He brings his pillow in front of his body and hugs it.

"Did I do something wrong?"

The question shocks Damian, as he didn't mean to ask it. It seems to startle Richard as well, because he goes stock still and looks at Damian with wide eyes.

It shocks them both, but it must be the reason if a bad lunch isn't.

Then, Richard breaks into soft laughter, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was about to ask the same thing, actually," he says, once the laughter dies down.

Damian frowns. Has Richard done anything wrong?

No. The answer is immediate. Richard hasn't done a single thing wrong. He's been nothing but his usual annoying and loud and pushy and kind and loving self since his father left and he came to keep the suit warm.

It almost feels like the beginning all over again. Waking up in the morning and smelling sweetened mocha instead of straight black coffee. Sketching in the afternoons by the fireplace in the family room and being interrupted by Richard barging in with a portable speaker, blasting the newest trending pop song. Going to bed with a goodnight hug. Bandaids snuck into Alfred's first aid supply that have cartoon and Disney characters designs. He's wearing a Frozen 2 bandaid now, on his knee.

If his father hadn't left with the rest of the Justice League, the band-aid would be a normal tan color and the day would be close to silent and alone.

It's feeling normal again, he realizes with horror. Because whatever mood Richard brings into the manor isn't normal. Normal is Bruce Wayne silently checking up on him throughout the day and calmly helping him with homework and giving tips on sketching techniques. Normal is leaning against the strong shoulder of his father as he tests those tips while his father reads a book, the only sounds to interrupt them being the ticking clock on the wall and the crackling of the fire.

Normal is... Normal isn't...

It's not this. He likes the time he spends with his father. He enjoys the wordless love and reassuring squeezes to his shoulder.

Normal isn't the loudness and silliness of Richard's affection.

And just like that, he finally knows what's wrong.

It feels the same as it used to be. Back when they thought his father was dead. Back when Richard seemed to be the only trusted adult in his life, and the daily interactions he had with him almost promised to be infinite.

And then they found out his father was still alive, just stuck in time. With the help of Timothy and others... They managed to bring him back.

And.

And.

And Richard left.

And Damian was left.

And.

And that wasn't supposed to happen. Was it?

He hasn't allowed himself to think about much. It was something neither of them had acknowledged or mentioned. Richard once said he considered adopting Damian if his father was dead. Damian didn't stop himself from taking comfort in that.

And it feels like history is repeating itself. His father is away. Richard is Batman.

However, now Damian knows that the second his father returns, Richard will be packing his bags and leaving. This isn't normal. He can't get used to this again. He loves his father. But Richard...

It hurt enough the first time, watching him go.

And it will happen all over again. He'll get comfortable with Richard and his daily hugs and laughter, and then he'll be gone.

Separation anxiety. He has separation anxiety.

"Oh buddy," Richard coos, wrapping his arms around Damian and bringing him to his lap to hold him better.

He's crying. Tears are running down his face and it's stupid, because he knows that when Richard leaves again, it won't be like he'll never see him again.

But he's crying, and it hurts. Hurts more than if he had eaten something bad. He clutches to the pillow between them and let's the tears fall.

"Tell me what's wrong," Richard soothes, probably the only person in the entire universe to not freak out when he cries. Probably the only person in the entire universe Damian would allow himself to cry like this to. "What can I do to help?"

"It's stupid," Damian says, through it's through a hiccupping sob, which makes it sound very not stupid to someone like Richard. He sniffs and rubs his eyes on the pillow, forcing his breathing to go normal and to stop crying. "It's nothing. Father will come back, and- and you'll go back to Bl��dhaven, and everything will be normal again."

Richard stills, then sighs. "So it's about that," he says softly. Of course he immediately knows what Damian means. He tightens his hold on Damian. "You know when your dad comes back, nothing will change between us, right? Even if we're on the opposite side of the world."

"I don't want to be on the opposite side of the world," Damian snaps, shoving himself away from Richard and glaring. "I want- I don't-" he presses his face into his pillow and groans.

Dick is silent, then he shifts closer and wraps his arm around Damian's shoulder gently. "I know. I don't either. But... it's just the way things have to be. You know this. Just like you know that... that if you ever really want to, I can clean out my guest room."

Damian shakes his head, his feelings feeling so all over the place and raw. "I just- when father came back, I didn't expect you to just leave. I don't want to choose. I-"

"I know," Richard whispers. "I know. I love Bruce. He's my dad too. But, you know us. If I move back in, we'll be at each other's throats. I'm a grown man now, Dami. I have to be on my own. He's... Protective. He still sees me as seventeen years old. And he's your father. You should be with him."

Damian sniffs. He doesn't nod. He doesn't shake his head. Agree nor disagree.

Simply understands.

It's just the way things are.

He stays silent as Richard continues. "And you know that I'll always be there for you, if you need me. I'll drop everything for you. Just say the word. I'll be running, even if I'm on the other side of the world."

Now Damian nods. Let's the cotton of his pillowcase soak up his silent tears.

He doesn't feel much better, but he doesn't feel so awful anymore either. He supposes that's the best it will get in this situation.

So he just sits there until his head begins to dip with exhaustion and Richard pulls him in so he's laying against his shoulder. His eyelids droop, and they stay there, together, like they used to.

It's scary to allow himself to become attached to things, but he can never help himself with Richard.

The best that he can do is enjoy it while it lasts, and make the most of it.

Richard will be gone when father comes home, but for now he's here, and he's warm, and he's solid.

Damian falls asleep, and Richard doesn't leave that night.

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #robin #dick grayson #nightwing #jin writes #fanfiction #dc comics

[expectingtofly]

Not-So-Easy-Bake Oven, 2k

Established Dean/Cas, Toddler Jack, Fluff without Plot

day 3 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: baking

“Petzel, petzel, petzel!” Jack chanted, banging a tiny plastic whisk on the table. He wore a kid's apron decorated with bumblebees, dotted black lines twisting and curving to show the bees' crisscrossing flights.

“Alright, buddy, give me a sec,” Dean said, pouring a bag of dry pretzel mix into a bowl. Charlie had bought Jack an Easy-Bake Oven for his fourth birthday, and this was their first time using it and its soft pretzel making kit—much to Jack’s excitement.

Cas came over from the sink with the kit’s measuring cup filled with water. “Wanna pour?” he asked Jack. He steadied Jack’s hand as he took the cup and poured it into the bowl. “Now it’s time to mix.”

He lifted Jack up to kneel on the table, and, gripping his whisk in one fist, Jack began stirring the mix and water together—if jabbing the bowl could be called stirring.

Dean opened the oven, checking to see if it was working. Already pretty warm for a squat bright pink appliance. “Woulda killed for something like this when I was younger.” He looked at the inside of his wrist. “Used to have a pretty nasty scar from when I tried making Sam brownies in some janky motel oven.”

“You should’ve never been left unattended in the kitchen at such a young age,” Cas griped, grabbing the bowl before it careened over the table's edge from Jack’s vigorous stirring. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself. If I ever meet John…”

Dean grinned. “He’s lucky he never met you.”

“Exactly.”

"Done," Jack announced, dropping the whisk. Dean raised an eyebrow at the bowl where the mix was only half-combined, dry powder still clinging to the bowl.

"Looks good, kid," he told him, and picked up the flimsy pink whisk to finish stirring.

Jack protested, though, grabbing his hand. "Done!"

"It just needs a little more," Dean told him. "Look, it's not totally mixed."

"Hey, Jack," Cas said. "Help me pick out stuff to put in our pretzels." Successfully distracted, Jack clambered over to him and Cas carried him to the pantry.

Dean finished stirring the mix quickly. "Good choice," he heard Cas say and looked over to see him grabbing a bottle of soy sauce. Oh boy.

The oven chimed, announcing it was pre-heated, and Dean stared at the lumpy excuse for dough in the bowl. Maybe it’d look more appetizing when cooked.

"Chocolate chips, pepper, raisins, oregano," Cas listed, coming over and setting various items down on the table.

"Uhh." Dean stared at the box of corn flakes Jack carried over to the table, nearly as big as his torso. He couldn't figure out which items were Cas’ choice and which were Jack's suggestions. "Not really sure all this goes together."

"You never know," Cas said, picking Jack up and standing him on a chair.

He might not've known for sure, but he was pretty sure he could guess. "Alright, well." He dumped the dough onto the table and divided it into small sections. "Time to experiment, I guess."

Cas sprinkled flour on the table so they could roll out the dough, but before he could even close the bag, Jack smacked his hand down on the table, sending a cloud of flour into the air.

Cas coughed, waving flour away from his face and Jack cackled, one palm dusted white. Dean laughed at Cas, until Jack leaned over and swiped at his t-shirt.

"Dude, seriously?" Dean asked him, brushing his shirt off. Jack only laughed, clapping his hands to send more flour floating in the air. "How ‘bout you put the flour to good use?" Placing a small ball of dough in front of Jack, he propped up the box that the mix had come in and studied the instructions for forming a pretzel shape.

"So first you roll the dough out into a rope," he said, following along with the pictures. "Then you form it into a u-shape." He glanced at Jack to see if he was paying any attention, but Jack seemed more interested in rolling the dough around the table and through the flour. Then he yelped, staring at his hands in bewilderment.

"I'm messy," he said, staring at the dough sticking to his fingers. He held them up to Cas, who told him.

"You have to get your hands dirty." Taking one of the balls of dough, he poured some chocolate chips on it and began rolling them into the dough. "Look at Daddy."

Jack looked over at Dean, just as his dough rope tore in two. "Dammit." He balled the dough back together. “Let’s try that again.”

Before he could try, though, Jack started clamoring for the corn flakes, so Dean set a handful of the cereal on the table. "I think this is gonna mess up the baking times," he said, skimming the back of the box. "Recipe doesn't say anything about adding extra shit."

"This is a child's baking oven. It's supposed to foster fun and creativity." Cas nodded at the box.

Dean turned the box around. Fun for the whole family! it read along with a photo of perfectly formed pretzels. At the bottom, it also read, "Ages 8 and up." Ah. So maybe a little advanced for a four year old.

Corn flakes went flying and Dean dodged one shooting towards his eye. Oblivious, Jack continued crushing the cereal with the flat of his hand, a gleeful smile on his face.

"Yup, uh, good enough," Dean said quickly, grabbing Jack's hands.

"No!" Jack yelled, trying to get out of his grip.

"Take the oregano," Dean said quickly, hoping for a distraction. It worked, except now he had to hand over the container and watch Jack sprinkle the herb all over the near vicinity. Maybe he could pass off clean-up duty to Cas, who was making his own mess, adding food dye to his dough to make a swirl of purple and pink.

He helped Jack combine the corn flakes and oregano into the dough, then roll it out into a rope. Cupping Jack's hands, he guided him through curving the rope of dough into a U-shape, crossing the two ends twice, then pulling them over to make a rough pretzel shape.

“Hey, not too bad.” Pulling out his phone, he took a photo. "Smile for Charlie, Jack."

Jack held up the pretzel, effectively warping the shape, and grinned at the camera. "I make one for Auntie," he declared when Dean lowered the phone, and grabbed more dough to form his own pretzel.

“How did you do that?” Cas asked, studying the box. Going to him, Dean did the same thing he’d did with Jack, standing behind him and holding his hands to help him form a pretzel shape. Cas' fingers were dusted with flour, and Dean got a bit distracted by the way Cas leaned back against him, letting him guide him into creating a pretty decent pretzel. Not as perfect as the ones on the box, but close enough.

“I think I’ve got it,” Cas said, grabbing more dough and forming another pretzel in two easy swoops. Okay, way better than the one before.

“Did you just trick me into helping you?” Dean asked, pulling away from him slightly.

Cas tilted his head into him. “Mhm.”

Dean rolled his eyes but kissed his neck anyway.

Several tries and several more mishaps later, and they had a few semi-recognizable pretzels. Some they dipped into a cinnamon sugar glaze that came with the kit, others they placed as is into small, pink, round dishes.

“They go in here and cook for ten minutes,” Cas instructed, helping Jack push the dishes inside the oven. Jack peered into the opening, then back at Cas and Dean.

“Done now?”

“Gonna be a long ten minutes,” Dean said, setting the timer.

They tried to clean up as the pretzels cooked, though Jack was covered in so much flour, food dye, and dough that he left a trail wherever he moved. And he would not stop moving. As Dean tried to wipe down the table, Jack ran loops around the island, and when Cas tried sweeping, Jack decided to start spinning around in the middle of the kitchen until he fell over. Then do it all over again.

“If he has this much energy now, what the hell’s he gonna be like when you give him a chocolate chip pretzel?” Dean asked Cas, putting the oregano and soy sauce back. He had no idea which pretzel Cas had slipped the sauce into and was not eager to find out.

“That may have been an oversight on my part,” Cas admitted. The oven beeped and Jack rushed to the table.

“Petzel!” he began chanting again.

"Don't touch," Dean warned, using a tool from the kit to pull the dishes out of the oven and place them on the table.

“Which one do you want to try first?” Cas asked Jack, who took a moment to study the pretzels before pointing to the purple and pink one—or what was once those colors but had now taken on a more bloody appearance.

"It's pretty," he said.

“Yes, it is,” Cas agreed, transferring the pretzels onto a plate. Dean turned off the oven, then startled when Jack began crying.

“Hot!” Jack cried, pointing at the dish Dean had told him not to touch. In hindsight, he should’ve realized the temptation would’ve been too much to resist.

“Let me see,” Cas said, taking Jack’s hand.

“No, it hurt,” Jack cried, trying to pull his hand away.

“Alright, alright.” Scooping Jack up, Dean carried him over to the sink and turned on the cold water. When he held Jack’s hand under the stream, Jack squirmed, trying to get away.

“Cold!” he yelled.

“I’m trying to help, dude,” Dean told him. “This’ll make it feel better.” More startled than hurt, it seemed, Jack calmed down after a few seconds. Turning off the water, Dean studied his finger. Not even a blister, but he nodded at Cas. “Think Dada can help?”

Jack nodded and held out his finger to Cas. "Booboo.” Cas took his tiny hand and kissed his finger.

“Are you too injured to eat a pretzel?” he asked.

“No!” Jack yelled, suddenly all energy again, squirming out of Dean’s grasp. Dean set him down and he ran to the table, clambering on a chair to grab the purple/pink monstrosity of a pretzel.

“Try one,” Cas told Dean, joining Jack and pushing over the plate.

Dean grimaced, but chose the cinnamon sugar and corn flake one. Why that was even a combination was beyond him. Bracing himself, he took a bite. Okay. Dry. Pretty bland. Crunchy which was just wrong, but not horrible—wait. He took that back. Oregano and cinnamon sugar did not go well together.

"Um. Well.” He choked down the rest of the bite and set the pretzel back on the plate. “These are, uh..."

"Not good," Cas finished. He squinted at his own pretzel, then took another hesitant bite. Instantly, his face screwed up, and he shook his head, dropping the pretzel onto the plate. “It seems you were right. Soy sauce, pepper, and raisins do not mix."

“Who would’ve thought?” Dean deadpanned. Jack munched happily on his pretzel, cinnamon sugar covering his chubby cheeks. “Someone’s enjoying them, at least.”

“For Charlie,” Jack announced, pointing at one of the pretzels on the plate.

“She’ll love a day-old pretzel,” Dean told him.

“Yes, she will,” Cas said, giving Dean a look. He pushed Jack’s hair back from his face. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Jack abandoned the colorful pretzel for the chocolate chip one, then the corn flake one. True to his word, he left one untouched on the plate for Charlie. She would get a kick out of it when she visited. I knew he'd love it!! she'd responded to the photo Dean had sent her of Jack holding up a pretzel.

“This was fun,” Cas said, a smile on his face, watching Jack.

“Yeah.” Dean looked over at the mess of bowls and dishes in the sink and back at the flour streaked table. Making a fist over his open palm, he said, “Loser has to clean.”

Cas straightened, a competitive gleam in his eye. “Agreed.”

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.” Cas threw scissors and Dean threw paper.

“Dammit,” he exclaimed. “You always do rock.”

Cas grinned. “And so I conditioned you to think I’d do it now.”

“Christ, when’d you get so conniving?” He got up and asked Jack, “You wanna help your old man clean?”

“No, tank you,” Jack replied.

“‘Least he was polite,” Cas said.

“Good luck getting him down for a nap later.”

“Why’s that my job now?”

“Sorry,” Dean turned on the water to start scrubbing the bowls. “Can’t hear you over all the cleaning I’m doing.”

Cas rolled his eyes. Dean grinned when Jack offered him a bite of his pretzel and Cas had to act like he enjoyed it. Turning back to the sink, he grabbed the sponge. This was a lot of fun.

#shameless fluff #baby jack #destiel fic #spncreatorsdaily #dean/cas #fluff without plot #domestic deancas #dadstiel #inspired by trixie mattel's easy bake oven series on youtube #and a job i had a few years ago working in a pretzel truck #good times #j&kcreatorfest #expectingtofly writes

[simprisottowriter]

I absolutely adored your head cannons for Giorno and Bruno! I’d love to see some similar ones for either Jotaro or Josuke 💜

     I'd be delighted to write for both of them, rainfoxx! Both Jotaro and Josuke are wonderful choices! I have a soft spot for them! As always, hope you like these headcanons!

°Fluff Headcanons°

◇ Having built his career, his work takes a big part of his day. So even when he is in his office, finishing papers for hours, he always leaves Star Platinum to roam around the house, mostly being by your side. Star Platinum expresses every emotion that Jotaro doesn’t. It is so obvious that the stand is delighted to be with you! Being intrigued by every small task you do around the house, it is always very willing and excited to give you a hand. Even if Star accidentally ends up making a mess.

◇ Star Platinum loves learning new things, and treasures every time you read him a book. Though, whenever you leave the stand from your sight, it might end up bringing random things from outside. If you end up with someone else's drink or with a new kitten, it’s not your fault. Caring for Star Platinum is like babysitting an energetic and happy child.

◇ Jotaro loves staying at home. Crowds overwhelm him. Near you, he feels different than he does with other people. To him, you feel home. ♡

◇ He treasures the moments full of silence that you spend together. Sometimes, he likes not having anything to talk about. Just doing his thing and being near you is fine for him. Silence for him isn’t awkward. It’s a way of showing that he feels comfortable enough with you to be himself.

◇ The first time you met him, in a project regarding marine wildlife, you probably felt his overwhelmingly cold and intimidating attitude that everyone was telling you about. No matter what others were gossiping about Jotaro’s behavior, you wanted to learn more about him. Thus, you were the one who invited Jotaro to your group. Though, you were worried if he didn’t like your presence, since it was difficult to understand what he was feeling. Your worries disappeared as you listened to him answer so eagerly and softly to your every question about sea life. It was strange but comforting to see him with a much softer expression than before.

◇ Thing is, that he feels intimidating to others that cannot read him and understand him as well as you do. Jotaro is truly a thoughtful sweetheart, and once he loves someone he'll do everything he can to ensure they are safe. Even if he shows it a bit harshly and in an overprotective way, he truly cares. He even makes Star Platinum act as your personal guard.

◇ His ideal date would probably be a calm walk by the sea or a short stroll around town. Ideally, he’d like living in a small seaside town, away from the crowded areas of the city. Wouldn’t mind visiting the aquarium. Though, the exotic sea-life isn’t something that impresses him. He has already seen these rare species through his work and in numerous books. Steals soft glances at you, while you look at all the colorful fish that gather at your finger, while tapping on the glass. You can basically see him blushing through his hat, even if he tips it to hide his blushing-red face. ♡

◇ Jotaro truly falls for someone's personality and their sweet smile. Everything else is superficial. Appearances don’t matter to him a lot.

◇ At the start, he's very private about his hobbies. Though, he has many interests aside from marine biology. His hobbies don't always circle around his career.

◇ Not very good with affection or PDA in general. At first, he'd shy out from cuddling, and let Star Platinum keep you in its arms. But when Jotaro warms up to your presence, his hugs are more frequent and godlike. Full of warmth, unparalleled comfort and so protective, that you feel like you are safe from everything. You'll melt in his strong arms. ♡

◇ Avid fan of dad jokes. Says them anytime he can. Mostly says them quietly, as you are beside him, so that you are the only one who can hear them.

◇ Would cook for you whenever he has free time. He might be a workaholic, but he loves caring for you.

◇ Elegantly emanates a fragrance of body spray, paired with a soft scent of seawater and fresh air. His clothes always smell divine. Like they just came out of the drier. Generally, Jotaro feels like a gentle morning breeze.

◇ Sleeps with the dolphin plush you bought him for his birthday. Has even given it a cute nickname.

◇ He's not very accustomed to technology, but he’s trying his best! You're much more knowledgeable with devices than him, so he really admires you for that.

◇ Clean, very sharp and bold handwriting. Neat but plain. Mostly writes in caps. Never forgets punctuation.

◇ When he is in high spirits, he lets his favorite cassettes play in the background, filling the room with the gentle sound of jazz and blues. R&B is also a big favorite of his. He always makes sure to play his music not very loud, since he doesn't want to bother you. Though, you love listening to his fave songs! You always praise his good taste in music till he becomes red-faced. Adores every song you recommend him.

◇ His frequent visits to the sea are mostly work related. But even when he observes and researches sea life by the shore, he never forgets to bring home a small seashell for you. He says that its delicate and beautiful, which reminded him of you. ♡

◇ Summer in Morioh means relaxing hangouts with Josuke, full of his warmth and affection. Though, when the first leaves fall and school life is around the corner, the time you can spend together is more limited than before. That doesn’t mean he can’t go out with you after school! 

◇ Loves going on study dates. The atmosphere of the cafe is relaxing. Even if he jokes with you most of the time, and doesn’t do any school work during your hangouts, he isn't as careless as he seems. Through these study dates he ensures that you are keeping up with your studies. Plus, he understands way better the subjects when you explain them to him! University is a bit difficult for both of you, but Josuke’s presence makes it much more bearable! 

◇ Though, Josuke would prefer hanging out at home. Adores being in the safety of his room, where he could express his love for you through cuddles and any kind of physical affection. If I didn’t make this clear enough, Josuke loves PDA! Whenever he notices that you feel a bit down, he immediately squeezes you in his arms! ♡

◇ Whenever you are hanging out at home, Josuke’s stand loves being by your side! It is as affectionate as he is. Crazy Diamond always keeps you in his embrace while you are gaming with Josuke. Sometimes, it will take you in its arms just to ensure you are not harmed in any way, by checking if you have any wounds it can heal for you. ♡

◇ Josuke will always check on you, and make sure you are eating well, staying hydrated and getting enough sleep. Usually through text messages. He would prefer phone calls, as he likes hearing your voice. Josuke might not even care this much for himself and his health, but his first priority is taking care of his friends, and most importantly, you!

◇ He loves making you happy. Not only with quality time spent together, but also with small gifts! Whenever he can afford buying something extra for you, he will. He’ll spend his cash for you without second thinking.

◇ Emanates a sweet scent of cinnamon and lavender. The smell of his hair gel is very soft and characteristic.

◇ Always lets you borrow his clothes. You haven't realized how adorable he thinks you look in his outfit! ♡

◇ Delicate, legible and cursive handwriting. It looks a bit childish, but his letters are very clean! While taking notes (which is a bit rare on its own), he definitely doodles on each page. His textbook is filled with cute and messy sketches of stickmen, flowers and houses. 

◇ Usually has a variety of pop, rock and R&B songs in his playlist, which is mainly filled with Prince’s songs. Always likes sharing with you any new song he finds. He is very excited to describe to you all the emotions he felt while listening to it. Really values a good melody! Is very bashful when you send Josuke a playlist you made for him. 

◇ If you manage to wake up really early, Josuke won’t have his hairdo ready yet. His pompadour takes quite some time to do, so you always love helping him prepare his hairstyle. He finds it endearing how much you care for him, how carefully you brush his hair and apply his hair gel. Though, when its just you two, he doesn’t mind letting his hair down. His luscious, messy locks make your heart skip a beat, but Josuke has no clue. ♡

#i love jot so much its unreal #tall phd man #take me by the hand #lead me to the land #and josuke is baby #i apologize for the delay :( #josuke #jotaro #jojos bizzare adventure #jojo #jjba #josuke headcanons #josuke x reader #jotaro headcanons #jotaro x reader #part 4 x reader #diamond is unbreakable #jojo jotaro #jotaro kujo #josuke higashikata #jojo writing #jojo headcanons #part 4 headcanons #jjba headcanons #jotaro part 4 #jotaro hcs #josuke hcs #jojo part 4 #headcanons #jojo fluff

[blu-joons]

DAD BTOB A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Seo Eunkwang

A ⇴ AFFECTION

He loves being around you and being affectionate with you, he hates to consider himself as clingy, but when he’s near to your bump he just can’t help but grab onto it and keep you nice and close whether that’s in his side or against his chest.

B ⇴ BUMP 

Eunkwang loved to talk to your bump and tell your baby about his day. It gave you an excuse to switch off for him as he talked so often, encouraging him to let the baby get used to sound of his voice so that you could have some peace and quiet from him instead. Rather than your baby stopping you from sleeping most of the time, it was the sound of Eunkwang’s voice instead.

C ⇴ CRAVINGS 

Your cravings were one of the things Eunkwang loved to use to his advantage in order to impress you by getting you your favourite things and cooking your favourite meals without even having to ask him. He hated letting you suffer with cravings, much preferring to stay on the ball and keep you well fed and looked after.

D ⇴ DUE DATE 

As much as he didn’t want to panic across the nine months of your pregnancy, Eunkwang certainly did. Your due date was the thing that seemed to haunt him the most as people loved to remind him how close it was. He knew that people meant well but the constant comments about how close you were to welcoming your baby often had Eunkwang panicked into thinking that very little was organised for your baby’s arrival.

E ⇴ EMOTIONS 

He loved to think of his role as the leader as practice for when the two of you had a baby, Eunkwang was caring and aware during almost every minute of the day especially with the boys. He couldn’t wait to use up everything he has learnt over the years for his new role as a dad, whilst Eunkwang knew being a dad was a huge responsibility he couldn’t wait to learn and have a human who would rely on him for help and growth.

F ⇴ FAMILY 

Eunkwang’s family were huge for the two of you, incredibly supportive of you both and always happy to help. They knew how busy Eunkwang was quite often and so when he was away with work he always tried to get at least one of his family members to stop by at one point in the day and make sure that you were alright. They filled any gap that Eunkwang left in your day and supported the two of you with whatever you needed.

G ⇴ GENDER 

The two of you knew from the very start of your pregnancy that you wanted to find out what you were having as soon as you possibly could. There was no way that either of you had the patience to get through the whole of your pregnancy without knowing whether you were expecting a boy or a girl.

H ⇴ HEARTBEAT 

Roars of Eunkwang’s familiar laughter filled the room every single time that he heard the beat of your baby’s heart at your appointments. He could never quite believe that it really was his baby that he was listening to, it all felt like a bit of a dream to him as if he were lost in the middle of a movie rather than listening to his own baby.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU” 

He loved to remind you that he loved you by proving to you that you were always on his mind, whether that was remembering a request you had from him or a worry that you’d opened up to him about before, his attentiveness always made you feel loved by Eunkwang as you knew he was always listening to you.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY 

The centre of your attention is something Eunkwang always loves to be, especially whilst your pregnant. When someone tries to steal his thunder and take your attention away from him, Eunkwang is far from impressed. As the father of your baby he feels like he always has to be there, and so when he goes quiet and pouty you can tell that he feels pushed aside and jealous of whoever your attention is on instead.

K ⇴ KICKS 

His hands would constantly be in the same position of your bump having spent time studying the kick pattern of your baby. Eunkwang knows exactly where they are likely to kick and so makes sure that his hands are in that spot as often as possible so he can feel as many kicks as possible too.

L ⇴ LABOUR 

Your labour was a terrifying experience for Eunkwang as he hated seeing you in so much discomfort. Whilst he tried to remain calm for your sake, you could tell that the intensity of the situation was nerve wracking for him. During your contractions, Eunkwang was always there for you, but once they ended you were the one having to reassure Eunkwang that you were doing alright and that he didn’t need to worry too much.

M ⇴ MORNING SICKNESS 

The one part of your pregnancy that Eunkwang disliked was your morning sickness. He wasn’t a massive fan of sickness anyway but he felt terribly guilty that you had to rush to the bathroom every morning whilst he could lay in bed comfortably and not have to go through the horror of throwing up.

N ⇴ NURSERY 

Putting your nursery together was just fun for the two of you, and a chance to spend plenty of time together too. Neither of you were the best at building and painting, but it was an experience that you both made the most of with each other.

O ⇴ OBSESSION 

Eunkwang was obsessed with your smile as all he ever wanted was for you to be happy. He knew that pregnancy came with its lows too, but more than anything else he tried his best to make sure that you were always smiling around him.

P ⇴ POST BIRTH 

He trusted in you after you gave birth to your baby and hoped that you would not do too much too quickly. The one thing that Eunkwang did ask of you was that you made sure you put being a mum first and worry about everything else after, or better still, leave him to worry about it and get things done.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS 

Eunkwang loved asking you what you thought about life and how you thought things would go with your baby too. The future certainly seemed a lot more fascinating for him now that the two of you were expecting and loved to know how you thought that it would play out as well.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS 

Whenever he went away for work Eunkwang always made sure to keep one of your scan photos on him so that he had something to remind you of your baby. It was one of the necessity items that he placed in his suitcase before most other things, even clothes were often packed after one of your scan photos was put in.

S ⇴ SCANS 

Eunkwang treasured every single one of your scan photos as if it were the first. They were like gold to him, he never liked giving them to anyone, even when he was showing them to other people he always showed with at least one of his hands on it so that he could ensure nothing happened to it.

T ⇴ TEST 

The two of you had decided some time ago that you would consider a family, but trying was something that was casual between you both. If it happened, you’d be happy, but if it didn’t, you were in no rush.

U ⇴ ULTRASOUND 

Eunkwang always made sure to be at every single one of your appointments, nothing else was as important in the world than being there for you.

V ⇴ VISITS 

The excitement was all too much for Eunkwang after you gave birth, he just couldn’t wait to have people round and introduce your little one to all the incredible people that they got to call their family.

W ⇴ WAITING 

He was incredibly impatient when it came your baby. Eunkwang wanted your baby to hurry up all of the time, he could not wait to start fatherhood and your new adventure.

X ⇴ XXXX

Kisses from Eunkwang were almost a given whenever he hugged you from behind to get at your baby bump, he loved to attack against your neck the most, teasing you smugly in the hope it would make you laugh.

Y ⇴ YOU 

You were his best friend, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to become a parent with you.

Z ⇴ ZZZ 

It took him some time to fall asleep most nights, but he enjoyed those times more now that you were often awake too. Together you’d lay and talk about anything until you were both comfortable enough to rest.

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Masterlist

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