Tumgik
#i take my little joys where i can get them okay
egophiliac · 9 months
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wait, hold on, I love them
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my favorite part of watching older anime series is when you get to the episode where they finally update the aspect ratio to fit more modern wide screens because it makes me feel like i travelled back in time because i see it and go :0!!! holy shit!!! look at how big that screen is!! despite most things i watch already having a modern widescreen aspect ratio
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cloudystevie · 2 months
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scary my god you're divine
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pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader
word count || 3235
summary || he would do anything for you.
warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, possessive! bucky, a little bit of subspace, choking, little bit of exhibitionism kink, minor pain play, daddy kink (only three times okay i'm sorry i am who i am), degradation, unprotected sex
author's note || 18+ ONLY. not proofread yet. my very first request in a very long time! Anonymous asked: Could you write a Dombucky x Subreader? And if you wouldn't mind jealous!bucky, already established relationship and his dog tags on reader? hope you enjoy nonnie! as always feel free to send in requests or any asks! feel free to reblog! enjoy!
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
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Today, a select few from the team are supposed to train the new agents, preparing them for the physical aspect of being an agent. Some made it fun or tolerable, like Steve and Sam, who were born leaders and charismatic. Natasha and Wanda enjoyed supervising the sparring sessions. Tony and Bruce enjoyed using technology to throw new obstacles at the agents.
Sometimes literally.
Unfortunately, your grumpy boyfriend, Bucky, just did not find any joy in training days. He didn’t like giving out instructions and praise unless it was you who was under him. He didn’t like supervising weak punches and miscalculated throws. And technology was just a straight-up no for him.
Usually, he could make himself useful with Steve, throwing out no-nonsense orders without making himself a massive part of the effort.
You were taking the elevator down to the gym floor. Fury had instructed you to check everything out and ensure everything went according to the itinerary. 
The doors open, and you glance around to ensure no immediate problems before letting your gaze fall on Bucky; his eyes are already on you. You offer him a bright smile, which he returns with a smirk, and your stomach flutters like it does every time you see him. You’re about 7 feet away from your boyfriend before you feel a hand on your lower back. You startle and turn around to face the newest agent. He has quickly climbed through all of SHIELD’s tests and proven himself to be of great value. He chatted you up last week at Tony’s charity ball, and you tried to let him down gently since you were already happily taken. Bucky was on a mission that day, and you didn’t want to add to his mental load by telling him about some punk who wouldn’t leave you alone.
Apparently, said punk, cannot take no for an answer.
“Back for more, cutie? You finally break up with your imaginary boyfriend?” Marcus teases, but really, he sounds more taunting than playful. You glance over your shoulder as you move away from his grip, and you already see Bucky glaring directly at the spot where Marcus’ hand was on your back. The stopwatch he was holding in his flesh hand shatters, and he doesn’t even flinch when Steve and Sam apologize for him, asking what was wrong as discreetly as they could but one glance over to where you were uncomfortably held hostage by the lean brunet man told them everything they needed to know. 
Bucky cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders up as he stalks towards you two. His looming presence is felt before you can see him in your peripheral vision. You glance up at him and take an instinctive step back toward his hulking body, breathing a sigh of relief because Marcus has to let up now.
He doesn’t.
“Oh hey, Sergeant Barnes, if you don’t mind I’m actually trying to talk to this chick so…” 
The way he talks about you as if you’re not right there makes you physically recoil. Bucky’s eyes harden; he’s not even squaring up to his full stature, and he already easily dwarfs Marcus. Bucky takes a step forward, and everyone in the room comes to a standstill. Everyone shuddering at the sheer anger rolling off of Bucky and the stupidity of Marcus.
Marcus huffs out a laugh. Maybe he gets a little pasty when he’s nervous because he seems to be digging himself a deeper hole when he says something about how many girls fall at his feet and Sarge, you've got to calm down. She’s not worth all that.
In an instant, Steve and Sam command everyone to return to their tasks, and the room begins to bustle again, but with a specific weary energy that was not there before. The very next second, Marcus is picked up by the collar of his black t-shirt and slammed against the wall, the room rattling with the force of it as all the recruits try to ignore the spectacle before them. 
“Touch her again, and I will kill you,” Bucky promises. “If you look at her, I will kill you. If you even think about her, I will fucking kill you. Understand?” His voice is a low grumble, the words resounding and reverberating as you watch Marcus sputter out panicked apologies and his flailing body while Bucky still looks so self-assured and composed. It's as if he’s not scaring a man to death while simultaneously making you drool.
You call out Bucky’s name, and he looks at you over his shoulder, pinning Marcus with one final glare and shove before letting him go as the agent does the walk of shame to the washroom. It’s almost like you’re frozen in your spot. You’ve seen Bucky get aggressive on missions before, but watching him be so willing to defend you, stand up for you when you couldn’t, not even hesitating for a second when he threatened to kill for you. And the worst part is, you were confident he was dead serious. 
Even worse, something about the principle of the situation was really doing it for you.
On the outside, it might have seemed like you were in shock or panic due to the agents’ actions, so Bucky whisked you away to a private interrogation room on the floor above the gym. The whole elevator ride there, his hand is protectively on your lower back, and you just watch the rigid set of his jaw and the anger and possessiveness written all over his features with unmistakable doe eyes. The air in the elevator is thick, and neither of you says a word. Before you know it, Bucky is easily lifting you and placing you on the metal table in the middle of the dull room, and his eyes are scanning yours for any hint of panic or if you’re upset. His hands cup your face gently, the cool vibranium soothing against your heated skin, and he finally breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta say something, baby. Are you okay? After this, that idiot’s going to be gone. I’m sorry if seeing me like that upset you, sweetheart-” Your rushed words cut off his ramble, “I thought that was really hot.” You say quietly and watch as Bucky’s face contorts from one of worry to one of confusion. 
“The way you stood up for me, you were so nonchalant about killing for me. I can’t lie, James. That kind of did something for me.” You continue, biting your lip and scanning him for his reaction, hoping he didn’t take your words in the wrong way. 
He’s silent for a moment. His chest moving steadily with each breath against yours. 
The next moment, his lips are pressed against yours, and you let a surprised squeak out. Your mouth slots open when his wandering hands roughly squeeze your thigh through your satin pants, getting dangerously close to the heat pulsing between your thighs. Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bucky slips his tongue inside your mouth and you buck your hips to seek some friction against your needy core. The kiss is passionate and renders your breathless as he consumes all of your senses. All you can think, see, smell, hear, and feel is James. 
His name falls from your lips in a gasp, you reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, letting your head lull to the side when he peppers sloppy kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck and biting and licking on your sweet spot. You swat at his firm bicep, “You’re gonna leave a mark James, stop it.” Your attempt at scolding him is weak, even to your own ears.
You feel Bucky smirk against your sensitive neck, his wandering hands cupping your ass and shamelessly groping and swatting at you. “Oh really? That’s too bad baby. Gonna be a pain to cover up.” He remarks, voice dripping in cockiness.
You scoff and bite back a whimper when he grinds his undoubtedly hard length against your clothed center. Your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders, a shiver crawling up your spine when a particularly slow grind nudges your aching clit. “You’re such a bad influence you know that?” Your voice lacks any real conviction. Your hips move in tandem with his, both of you sharing messy kisses and your bodies thrumming with lust and pent up energy. 
“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about looking at you.” Bucky says assuredly, and you can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips at his words. Your hands shakily going to undo his black jeans as he messily pulls yours pants down, being considerate enough not to rip them considering there was still a little more than an hour until the SHIELD training day was over. “Bucky I need you, need you to please-” Your voice is shaky and desperate, as you struggle to unbutton his jeans. He shushes you gently, cooing at you sweetly as he easily unbuttons his jeans, just enough for you to promptly pull out his erect cock. Your mouth practically waters at his length and girth, and you spit onto your hand and begin rubbing his length, swiping your thumb gently over the tip making him hiss and push his hips into your hand. 
You bite your lip and look up at him through hooded eyes, and he slaps your hand away before tearing your panties in half, the top half covering your swollen clit and the bottom scrap of fabric falling limply against the cool table. You barely have time to scold him for ripping your panties before he’s shoving his whole length inside you in one fluid thrust. Your back arches, your legs wrapping around his waist as your buddy erupts in a shiver, a short scream escaping your lips. He swallows the noise with his mouth pressed against yours as he grunts into your mouth, waiting only a short second before he begins to thrust inside you. His thrusts are slow but hard, making the heavy metal table scrape against the floor with the force of each pass of his hips into yours. 
“You’re mine, mine to touch. Mine to have. Mine to take care of.” Bucky grunts out, his movements picking up in pace as emotion swirls in his voice, his metal hand covering your neck, forcing you to stay upright in a position that allowed you to feel all of him. You sob out, digging your nails into his bicep and nodding your head, already succumbing to that foggy feeling you felt when you were so close to your boyfriend. He tuts at you, swatting your face with his flesh hand with enough force to make you moan out and clench around his length. 
“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you’re not going dumb on me that quick. Use your words, tell me you’re mine. Tell me I’m yours.” His voice is commanding and you force yourself to look at him, pulling on his shirt and tugging on his dog tugs to get him closer, your foreheads pressing against each other as his thrusts continue to get faster. “I’m yours James, only yours. You’re only mine. No one else. Just you.” Your words are slurred as he groans out a good girl in approval and decides that he wants your shirt off. He skillfully manages to slip your navy blue long-sleeve off and unhooks your bra in one motion, freeing your tits to the cold air of the room, forcing the buds into sensitive peaks which Bucky is quick to take advantage of. His hands squeeze and pull at your tits, tugging and pinching cruelly at your nipples making you whine. 
Your bodies are pressed so close to one another, each pull of his hips making his pelvis rub against your aching clit, stray tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving and pushed up against Bucky.
If anyone were to walk in right now the picture would be nothing short of debauched. You completely bare on the table, Bucky completely clothed. Getting absolutely plowed if the screech of the metal against the floor was anything to go by. Your moans get higher in pitch and volume making Bucky grunt, another swat to your cheek making your brain foggy. “Shut the fuck up slut. You want everyone to see you getting fucked like the bitch in heat you are?” But if your moans and increasing wetness are anything to go by, yes, a deep and dark part of you does want that. Bucky laughs at you, shaking his head in faux disbelief and you wrap your lips around his dog tags, enjoying the soothing sensation brought by the cool metal. Bucky looks down at your lips wrapped around the dog tags he never seemed to take off and he let out a wrecked sound. You clench around him at the sound making his rhythm falter.
Before you can even process the loss of his proximity, your back is flat against the table and his dog tags are now around your neck, landing on your chest and glimmering in the dull fluorescent lighting of the room. Bucky slams himself back inside of you, the unmistakable squelch of your wetness filling up the room alongside both of your noises of pleasure. Your high-pitched and pornographic mewls and his low grunts and deep groans. You cry out his name as your head lulls to the side, eyes shutting in bliss as your fingers move to give your aching clit some attention. But Bucky lets out a disappointed grunt, grabbing your jaw in his hand and forcing you to maintain eye contact. “Look away from me again and I won’t let you cum for a fucking week stupid baby.” Bucky threatens. “You better fucking pay attention to who’s fucking you dumb. No need to close your eyes and imagine when you’ve got the real thing right here.”
Each of his words ignites a newfound purpose in Bucky as he pounds into you impossibly harder, his hand swatting against your cheek again and wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place to take all of his thrusts. He knows you always struggle to keep your eyes open and you don’t doubt that he will follow through on his threat. He has always enjoyed testing your weakness and pushing your limits. 
“Feels s’good. You’re so big Jamie. S’big, so good s’too good.” Your words are breathy and frail, your fingers rubbing quick circles around your aching button. A mean laugh rumbles in his chest as he watches the way his dog tags move with your tits, the sight is intoxicating and fuels Bucky to continue his torment. “There she is my dumb little baby. Couldn’t help yourself huh? Can’t help the way your brain goes quiet when I have my dick inside you.” His words should be humiliating but they only spur you on, your fingers on the verge of cramping but the jolts of pleasure are so overwhelming you can’t stop. “Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 
“That’s it baby, I know, I know it feels so good huh. Daddy’s here baby, Daddy’s gonna take care of his needy baby.” Bucky’s head falls back on a moan when you clench around him, your walls pulsing and a ring of cream forming around the base of his cock. Your orgasm was surely just a few moments away and Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk.
He folds your legs at the knee, sliding you closer to him with the pressure he has on your throat, the angle making him rub against your sweet spot with each deliriously pleasurable thrust. You squeal out his name, getting even louder than before and he shoves his dog tags into your mouth, muffling your garble out unintelligeble pleads to cum. With one hand Bucky squeezes your throat, and with the other he pinches at your nipples, tugging the sensitive flesh before trailing his hand down your body and slapping your hand away from your clit, he moves his lips down to your ears, licking up your earlobe before whispering his command, “Cum. Cum right fucking now or you don’t get to cum at all.” His fingers pinch your clit and the sudden burst of pain has you tensing your legs up, squealing out nonsense around the dog tags in your mouth and reaching your peak. Your body shakes against the table as Bucky pounds you through your high, his words of encouragement falling on deaf ears as you teeter between consciousness and unconsciouness. His body overwhelming your mind and soul. 
His fingers release your throat and you look up at him with watery eyes, bringing him down to rest your foreheads against each other as he nears his own high. Your lips are pressing against each other, “There isn’t a single person in the world I wouldn’t kill for you. I would do anything for you. You are everything to me.” Bucky murmurs in a pussy-drunk stupor. But the words are true, he has said them to you before and will say them a thousand times again. You taught him how to live again, not just survive. 
A broken cry falls from your lips from sensitivity and Bucky’s impassioned thrusts turn sloppy as he moans out your name, pulling you impossibly closer as he fills you with his cum. At the feeling of being completely stuffed by him, your second release is triggered and you shake in his hold as he comes down from his high. He presses lazy kisses against your lips and rubs his hands soothingly up and down your body, easing you out of your submissive state. He gently pulls himself out, using the handkerchief he carries around to wipe your thighs clean, but letting his cum keep your pussy messy. He quickly wipes himself off and helps you dress yourself. 
A few more giggly kisses and you’re pretty much ready to go back down to the gym. Just in time to catch the final thing on today’s agenda: sparring. Bucky walks one step behind you, his hand back again on your lower back protectively as a path is cleared to the front of the ring where your friends are supervising Marcus and another recruit preparing for the second round of their match. Natasha and Wanda offer you knowing smirks and you roll your eyes with heat creeping up cheeks as you shyly glance up at Bucky through your eyelashes to find him already looking at you with a stupid smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and watches with intent as Steve and Sam coach their respective agents. 
“Looking strong, Marcus!” Bucky calls out and you swat his chest making him laugh. Marcus takes one look at you, Bucky’s dog tags now around your neck and falling on your shirt, teeth imprints on your neck, and swollen lips. Poor Marcus falters, and the other recruit takes advantage of his distraction and easily tackles him to the ground, winning the second round. Bucky takes a single step closer to the ring where Sam is helping Marcus up, and the smirk on your arrogant boyfriend’s face is adorable. “Better luck next time buddy,” he says supportively. Sam flicks Bucky in the forehead, unable to hide the smile on his face, “Dumbass.”
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sugurufic · 2 months
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Nanami-Sensei (Nanami X F!Reader)
Summary: Your husband isn't that much of a grump, it seems. Especially when it comes to his favourite people; you and your "children".
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: reader is very motherly and is mentioned to be sunshine-y, other than that it's just fluff
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“Nanamin!” Yuji’s voice rang out in the empty classroom, bringing a smile to your face. Your husband let out an exhausted sigh, but the little smile on his face told you otherwise. Yuji was Haibara with pink hair, his sunny personality almost contagious. You figured your husband has a type of people he lets close - and it's most definitely the sunshine people, like yourself.
“What is it, Itadori-kun?” Kento asks in his deadpan.
“I saw these in the market and thought you might like them!” the pink haired boy said, holding up a small paper bag. “I bought some for you too, Nanami-san,”
“Thank you, Yuji,” You say, scooting over on the bench. “Why don’t you sit with us for a while?”
The boy’s eyes sparkle with delight as he accepts your offer, sitting beside you with his hands on the desk. Nanami’s brow is relaxed, and you know he enjoys spending time with Yuji as much as you do. “Nanami-san, won’t you open this?”
The bag smelled amazing, and the little box had some of your favourite doughnuts. You gave one to your husband, one to Yuji and took one for yourself. “How did you know I liked them?” you ask, a bright smile on your face.
Yuji swallows his bite quickly, then says, “Nanamin mentioned it yesterday when we were taking a break after exorcising a curse. We stopped by this shop to get doughnuts,” Yuji says, making Nanami look down quickly.
“Well, why don’t you come home with us?” You offer. “I’ll make us some spicy ramen. Then we can have the rest of the doughnuts for dessert.”
“We can pick some mochi up on our way home too,” Nanami says.
Yuji’s eyes sparkle, he is so full of life - your heart cries out for him - why did fate choose him to be Sukuna’s vessel? Why couldn’t he have been a normal child? You decide not to dwell on these questions, putting your best smile instead, hugging the young boy from his shoulders. He couldn’t yet spend time with his friends, and you wanted to keep his cheerful self for as long as he can. “Don’t think about it too much, Yuji.” You said. “We can watch a movie together.”
“Human Earthworm 4?” He says in a soft voice.
“Itadori-kun, it’s time for you to watch something else,” Nanami sighs.
“We can pick the movie later,” you intervene. “What do you say, Yuji? It will be a nice break for you to leave Jujutsu Tech for a bit,”
“Gojo-Sensei -” Yuji starts.
“He won’t say anything,” You assure him.
“Okay, Nanami-san!” He says, the bright smile returning to his face. “I’ll go see Gojo-Sensei once, then we can go!”
Yuji runs at an alarming speed, leaving you with a chuckle. “Isn’t he a lovely child?” you murmur to your husband.
“Indeed,” He says with a sigh, caressing your hand with his thumb. “He might be your son with how much energy and joy he has,”
“Well, he wouldn’t be just my son then.” You say with a coy smile. “And I think, that you might just have a type of favourite people,”
“People who are similar to you, my love,” He agrees. “But you will always be my favourite of them all.”
“I better be,” you giggle. “I am your wife, after all.”
It is adorable the way your husband has taken the child under his wing, acting as his mentor and protector - it makes you wonder how he would be with your own kids, loving and protecting them from the world. It makes you long for a normal life, where you could raise your kids without the permanent threat over them. The world you belong to is too dangerous for children.
“Nanamin! Nanami-san!” Yuji’s cheerful voice is back again, saving you from the dark thoughts forming in your head. He has a bright smile on his face and a backpack with him, ready to leave. “I’m ready!”
“Let’s go then,” You get up from your place, and wrap one hand around your husband’s hand and the other one hold’s Yuji’s arm. “A warm dinner is waiting for us back home,”
Nanami settles, with a sigh as Yuji begins to play Human Earthworm 4 on the television, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed between the two of you. You cannot help but think of Yuji as your child, even though you are too young to be his parents. He’s wonderful company to have around - helping you lift up your spirits with his contagious laugh and in general helping you in the kitchen as your husband took the laundry. Yuji is so animated, excitedly filling you in with the previous parts of the movie, doughnut box on his lap.
Hidden from Yuji’s eyes, Nanami has a rare, charming smile on his face as he watches the two suns of his life get close to each other. How you tousle the boy’s pink hair as if he’s your younger self, indulging in his gossip about everyone from school, about how his Gojo-Sensei has been teaching him, about how he misses Megumi and Nobora and wishes he can talk to them again.
Your eyes meet his behind Yuji, and you share a smile, a smile reserved for you two only. Yuji stills for a bit as the movie progresses and you take that time to set up the guest room for him - comforters, pillows, and toiletries. You know that inviting Sukuna’s vessel over to your home is dangerous, and you wonder why the King of Curses had to pick this sunshine in human-form of a child as his vessel.
“Nanami-san,” Yuji whispers, tiptoeing into the guest room. “Nanamin has fallen asleep,” 
“Oh?” You say with a grin. “I told him he should take a nap, but my husband just never listens. Come on, let’s get him a blanket.”
“Don’t you want to wake him up?” Yuji asks, confused. Wouldn’t it be better if he got into bed to sleep?
“He didn’t sleep last night,” You admit, fetching an extra blanket from the guest room’s closet. “He got up early to see you,”
Yuji’s face turns as pink as his hair, beginning to apologise, but you stop him. “My husband cares deeply for you, Yuji. Even though he doesn’t show it.” You say. “And I absolutely stand with him on the matter.”
“Nanami-san,” Yuji bows deeply in front of you, muttering words of gratitude and thanks and apologies for being a bother.
“Yuji, you’re just a child,” You say. “Don’t bother yourself with these worries. Now, let’s get a blanket for your Nanamin before he wakes up from the chill.”
You tuck your husband in on the sofa for the night, kissing his forehead before getting ready for bed. You’re in the kitchen getting some water when Yuji follows you too, sitting on the counter.
“Nanami-san, how did you and Nanamin meet?” He quietly asks, a rare moment of stillness from him.
“Oh, we met at Jujutsu Tech,” you say. “I made friends with Kento’s friend, and then we hung out together…” You are lost in thought of your youth, with Yu, Kento and your senpais. Suddenly, it’s Haibara Yu in front of you, telling you how he loves to eat, and would love a woman who loves to eat. You’re with Kento, comforting him after Haibara’s death, hugging him close as he cries on your shoulder. You’re with Shoko as she is told of Geto’s defection, and how he killed 112 villagers, including his parents. You’re the one Gojo reaches out to when Tsumiki gets her first period, panicking because he doesn’t know what to do as Megumi freaks out.
Then you’re back with Kento, as he tells you he is leaving the Jujutsu sorcery, because he cannot take it anymore. You’re right there with him, applying for a job in the corporate world because you fear if you stay a sorcerer too long, you might join Geto. No wonder they couldn’t catch him for years - you had helped him hide. No matter how much Kento believed in protecting the youth, protecting the defenceless, he couldn’t hate Geto, because he understood.
You are brought back to the present, at the sound of Yuji calling your name, and smile at him. “I was new there, and Haibara made friends with me,” You continue. “He wasn’t too different from you, so full of life. He was friends with Kento, and I started being friends with him too. Gojo would always pick on him for being an introvert, and I'd always tease him too. Then we joined corporate, and got even closer… and well, here we are.”
“Did Nanamin ask you out?” He asks, excitement returning to his eyes again.
“He did,” you say, recalling the big bouquet you had at your desk on a random Tuesday morning, signed by Kento. “He had to be thrown a lot of signs before he realised that I like him too.”
“He seems so closed off,” Yuji notes.
“He takes time to understand,” you admit. “All that toughness but he is a softie,” getting too lost in your thoughts, you decide it’s time to make some calming tea. You set the water to boil while Yuji brings out two cups while you mix up your tea and some herbs with a sugar cube.
“What do you love the most about him, Nanami-san?” Yuji asks.
You pour out the tea into the cups, taking a long sip before answering, “His heart,” you cannot help but smile at the thought of your husband. “He’s so kind, so patient. He’s just so… I love him,” you say with a delighted sigh. “He’s perfect,”
“I wish I can be like Nanamin,” Yuji says.
“You already are a great young man,” You are quick to reassure him. “Don’t change too much, Yuji.”
There’s a quiet knock on the door, and you quickly shift into high alert mode. Being a Jujutsu sorcerer came with his problems - namely enemies showing up unannounced. You reach for your cursed tool as you get to the door, looking at the door camera, relaxing and then panicking on seeing Ino Takuma. You quickly open the door with minimal noise and signal your finger to your mouth.
You give him a once over to see if he is injured, worry laced over your face. Once sure that he seems okay, you escort him back into the kitchen, locking the door after him. Ino smiles seeing a sleeping Nanami, his grin only widening on seeing Yuji. “Itadori,” he greets in a whisper.
“Yo! Ino-senpai,” Yuji 's eyes widened, his boy-ish face making your heart ache with love for him. He’s just a boy, thrust into the middle of everything. 
You set the kettle to the stove again, as Ino helps himself to some cookies from the shelf. Now with a hot cup of tea in each pair of hands, you tiptoe to the guest room, careful to not disturb your husband’s slumber. Heavens know that he deserves it.
“Takuma-chan, what brings you here tonight?” You ask, sitting on the only chair in the room while Ino and Yuji sit on the bed.
“I was fighting a curse, it seemed a bit stronger than grade 2.” He says. “It was close by. I didn’t have the strength to return home and stopped by.”
Yuji’s curious eyes fly between the two of you, wondering if he will ever feel free enough to show up uninvited. “Takuma was Kento’s first student,” you tell a confused Yuji. “He was there when my boyfriend turned to my fiancé.”
Your mind flies back to a happier time, about three years ago when Kento and you had planned a date to a fancy place but you two dragged Ino with you, he’d just successfully completed his solo first mission and you wanted to celebrate. But the restaurant didn’t know that - and hence you got a surprise pastry with a ring box on it, with your first ever child witnessing your pure joy.
“Nanami was not very delighted by me being there,” Ino notes.
“Tch, Takuma-chan I thought you knew him better,” You pout.
“He always acts like a grump,” Ino says, making you and Yuji chuckle. 
Your first child with your latest, you think, smiling at the two of them. Your husband does have a specific type for people who he lets get close to him - people like you - who are insufferable sunshine, pushing into his grumpy space with your bright smiles and twinkling eyes that he can't help but want to protect. 
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month
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toaster waffles
in which spencer is woken up by fem!reader and their young daughter after being away on a case
fluff warnings/tags: none really, a bit of suggestiveness between spencer and reader but nothing explicit, their daughter is a genius duh, i love dad!spence so fucking much holy shit a/n: i wrote this in like thirty minutes so good luck! just needed to write dad spencer it just needed to happen idk
“No—baby, we have to let daddy sleep in,” you chide your daughter, jogging to catch her as she races down the hallway on clumsy little legs. 
“No! I wanna see daddy!” She yells—and if Spencer wasn’t awake yet, he will be now. You give in, opening the bedroom door for Ada with a fond (exasperated) sigh. 
“Daddy! Daddy wake up!” 
He blinks sleepily several times, sitting up and grinning at his daughter as she attempts to climb up onto the bed. 
“Hi, princess,” he laughs, grunting dramatically as he pulls her up onto his lap. “Oh my gosh, did you get all grown up while I was gone?”
He catches your eye as you stop at the foot of the bed, arms folded and mouthing an amused ‘I’m sorry.’ Spencer smiles and almost imperceptibly shakes his head, eyes sparkling as Ada attempts to use him as playground equipment. No apology necessary. 
“I made you breakfast!” she remembers, grabbing onto his shoulders and springing up and down on the bed. His eyes go wide. 
“You did? Where is it?”
“Oh no!” she claps her hands to her cheeks and opens her mouth wide, Home Alone style. Spencer laughs. “I forgot it!”
Then she’s wriggling off the bed and running as fast as her little feet will carry her, presumably to the kitchen. 
“You like cold toaster waffles, right?” you tease, approaching the bed and filling the now empty seat that is Spencer’s lap. His hands find your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck. 
“I would go so far as to say I love them. Hi, baby.”
“Hi,” you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder. “I missed you. I forgot how hard it is when you’re gone.”
He hums, running his hand over your hair. 
“I know. Me too.” Spencer now only consults on cases, and very rarely is he actually obliged to travel with the BAU. It was never easy before, but now that you have a child, it takes more out of everyone. “Hey. Look at me.”
You do, lifting your head and meeting his soft gaze. He leans forward and captures your lips in a gentle kiss, brushing his thumb over your cheek before pulling away. “I love you. Thank you for taking care of the progeny while I was away. I know it’s not easy on your own.”
“Eh. She’s alright. She reads to me at bedtime.”
Spencer grins, eyes darting back to your lips. Several quick kisses are pressed there in succession, and it’s not exactly how he wanted to say good morning to you but that will have to wait until later. 
“Ewww!” 
Ada is at the door again, waffle in hand, making a half-disgust half-delight face before prancing back to the bed and receiving another airlift from Spencer up onto the mattress. 
“What do you mean, ew?” he asks in mock offense as her legs swing in the air. “You’re next!”
You watch in unadulterated joy as he peppers little kisses all over her face and she pretends to hate it, squealing with glee.
“Is that for me?” he asks once she’s comfortably sharing his lap with you, pointing to the forgotten waffle. She holds it up, pressing the disk against his lips. Spencer takes a bite, makes an exaggerated yum sound, and kisses her forehead once more. “Thank you. That was delicious.”
“You have to eat all of it so you’ll grow up big and strong.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll do that. Why don’t you leave it on the nightstand and go find a book we can read together?”
“Game of Thrones!”
“No!” he laughs. “That book is way too grownup for you!”
“But I read the first three pages!”
“I know you did. And Auntie Penelope is still in big trouble for that. Go get Lord of the Rings.”
Full of energy despite the early hour, Ada skitters off again to find the book. 
“She’s too smart for her own good,” you sigh, listening to her making up a song as she picks through the book shelf in the next room. 
“Intelligence is generally more nurture than nature. If we act fast we could probably stunt her IQ to just two or three standard deviations above the average.”
You giggle, straddling him as he slips his hand under your shirt to rub your back. Then you try to school your features into a serious expression.
“Not funny.”
That big, lazy grin might never fade—and you’d be happy to look at it forever. 
“You’re right. Not funny at all.”
“Hey,” you remember, grabbing his biceps. He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “I was gonna make you real breakfast. What do you want?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t. I want to. So tell me what you want.”
“Anything other than a toaster waffle.”
You snort, moving to slide off the bed. 
“We can probably make that happen.”
“Hey—" he catches your waist, pulling you closer. “Penelope is taking Ada to the park this afternoon. We’re gonna spend some time together, okay?”
After having an entire child together, you still get butterflies when he looks at you like that. 
“What if I have plans this afternoon?”
Spencer doesn’t even look mildly concerned—just tilts his head, brushes his thumb over your lips. 
“Then I’m asking you to cancel them, pretty girl. I owe you some undivided attention.”
You chew on your lip. It’s embarrassing how easily he can still fluster you. 
“Right now I have to go find out why our child is being so quiet.”
He laughs, letting you slip from his grasp for good. 
“She probably got into the Stephen King again.”
You pick up the waffle and gesture at him with it emphatically as you walk away.
“This is all your fault.”
“Mm… let’s call it a team effort.”
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wakebymoonsleepbysun · 3 months
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Dogday!! Trying to figure out a way to send a Y/N in there to help him.
Rambles under the cut.
(I drew my sona in these cuz self-indulgent, but if I ever write anything it'll be a reader insert with little to no canon design.)
Design notes: Took some elements from his game model as well as his cartoon design. I think when we see him, he is emaciated and/or stretched out, the way CatNap is said to be able to stretch. Don't know if that's an ability all Smiling Critters have though. For now I'm saying it is SOMEWHAT but CatNap is the better at it by MILES. In any case, that's why he's not quite as lanky as he is in game, and is also a bit shorter.
I also he can be bipedal or quadrupedal, much like CatNap seems to be able to switch back and forth. A bit more animalistic than his cartoon counterpart, but part of that is just him not wanting to tower over the children and employees all the time, so drops down to all fours quite a bit.
The fur texture on his ears in the game cave him a floofy cocker spaniel look so I went with that instead of the less floofy ears he has in the cartoon and his original plushie.
The white pupils being absent when we see him I believe is a sign of how weak he is. When healthy, all the Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters have them, much like CatNap does.
Trying to actually keep his huge open-mouth smile at all times, unlike with my FNAF stuff where I give them more of an ability to emote. That said trying to get him to look angry or sad was a challenge. Sad I think worked okay but the one where I meant him to look angry he looks more cocky or smirky than mad. Tender moments are a bit harder too, as keeping that huge grin with more tender eyes results in him looking either drunk or horney or just like he's not taking the moment very seriously, haha.
And the story? Not sure yet, bouncing around a few ideas, though I don't think I'll have the reader and the player be the same person. Reader might be someone who came up in PlayCare alongside Dogday. Perhaps they knew each other as kids when Dogday was still human. Haven't decided how much of this Dogday remembers or at what point the reader realizes Dogday is their old friend who got "adopted".
Reader grows up the Playcare and is given a job once they're an adult. (Something something starting the brainwashing and normalization of bullshit early to make employees who are more willing to look the other way?)
Dogday somehow kept them hidden during the Hour of Joy and the reader's been living in the caves ever since. (The caves open up so much possibility for people being hidden in the factory. Much easier to say there's an unknown offshoot of a natural cave system than an unknown part of the factory.)
How are they staying fed? Uhhhh...cave mushrooms? Trips to the surface? Moss? Stale vending machine candy? I don't know yet.
Not sure how to pull a happy ending out of this horror but I'm trying. Maybe the reader convinces Dogday to leave after Ch 3 because he'd be too weak to help anyway or something? And uh...I'm just gonna pretend since he's kinda a plushie he can be sewn back together even though I'm PRETTY SURE canonically the inclusion of blood and guts makes that...not a thing.
Just remember guys...all winds blow away...eventually.
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arminsumi · 5 months
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Hey! Could I request a soft fluffy Gojo where he finds out reader is pregnant and he’s over the moon excited and can barely contain himself? Seeing the Gojo crumbs got me feeling all soft for him.
PREGNANT
★ Note : ah i savored the gojo crumbs!! 🥹💗 missing that pineapple head sm.
★ Warnings : some suggestive jokes
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"Sooo... I bought you a pregnancy test."
You laugh at him like he's being ridiculous, like this is a total over-reaction to you having just one instance of morning nausea that didn't even last very long.
Satoru has some weird sixth sense when it comes to you. If you're not feeling well, he knows it before you even say anything. Like this morning, when you sat up in bed in a strange way, he blinked awake and mumbled "Baby, what is it?" knowing in his chest you must feel sick. And sure enough, you were sick.
Albeit not for long — Satoru still soothed your back with his hands and gave you a thorough massage until the nausea went away.
He joked, "Are you pregnant?" while he massaged you. But that weird sixth sense told him that you were really pregnant.
After your nausea subsided, he went out to buy you every necessity he could think of. You know, pads and tampons of all sizes because he has no idea which one you actually prefer and he also has no idea why there are so many variations. So he dumped a pile of period necessities on your desk and you laughed at how he did it.
Then he unexpectedly whipped out a pregnancy test package and tapped you lightly on the shoulder with it.
"Satoru, I'm pretty sure I'm not pregnant."
"But I feel like you are." he replies suspiciously. "I mean look at you... you're glowin' like a goddess. C'mon, just take the test."
"Okay, fine — but I'm telling you, I don't feel pregnant."
You took the pregnancy test and rolled your eyes while waiting. Satoru waited outside the bathroom like an excited puppy and nearly pawed at the door to be let in, but you absolutely refused to let him watch you pee on the pregnancy test.
So he spoke through the bathroom door;
"Sooo are you pregnant or do I have to take you back to the bedroom and make your eyes roll back again?"
You laughed.
"Satoru, you don't need to take me back to the bedroom for me to roll my eyes at you."
You stared down at the pregnancy test.
| |
Oh.
You opened the door of the bathroom.
When you hand him the positive test, Satoru blanks. Then his eyes light up like you've never seen them light up before.
His jaw slacks and he doesn't have any words.
You think he's frozen in place but then suddenly he reanimates himself and attacks you with kisses.
"Babyyy!" his voice cracks with excitement.
He levels his face with your tummy and hugs it, then speaks to it;
"Hey, kid. You better have your mommy's eyes."
"Satoru, you're ridiculous." you chuckle.
Satoru keeps kissing your tummy, nuzzling and hugging it. He cries a little after the initial excitement calms down. In fact he sobs. He clings to your stomach, arms wrapped tightly around it. All his attention is plastered on you and your tummy.
He calls Suguru and Shoko and Nanami in a video call and judging by the tone of his texts (VIDEO CALL NOW. IMMINENT.) they assume something dire has happened.
And then Satoru just says;
"We're pregnant."
"We?!"
Suguru hears you yell through the phone and laughs.
Nanami sighs, "Satoru, I thought something bad happened, you idiot. Congratulations."
"Mhm!" Satoru ignores Nanami's scolding and absorbs the 'congratulations' like a proud to-be father.
"I'm gonna be a dad." he keeps saying this over and over until it even gets on your nerves, so you pop into the video call to shut up your stupid husband which makes the others howl with laughter. Satoru just happily lets you shut him up, he knows he's being an obnoxious idiot. He can't help it, he's over-excited.
He is so smug about it. But underlining that smugness you see pure excitement, real true joy that Satoru can't fully express except through subtle things.
He koala-hugs his arms around your tummy and clings to you.
On the video call, everyone sees how Satoru looks at you; he has that lovey-dovey euphoric smile stuck on his face.
"Satoru, you're glowing. Are you pregnant, too?" Shoko jokes.
— ★
Later that night, Satoru rests his head on your stomach while the two of you are laid in bed.
The initial goofiness and excitement has calmed down, and he's gone silent like he's brooding.
"Do you think I'll be a good dad?" he asks seriously. He experiences a small voice crack.
Waiting for your answer makes him nervous. He fiddles with the hem of your pajamas.
"Satoru, you're going to be the best dad." you respond.
His lips curl and he begins smiling to himself and cuddling your tummy more. It's one of those rare smiles that he feels too shy to show you. Reminds you of how he used to smile at you when you flustered him in college, when he was a love sick puppy for you.
Of course, he breaks the moment with a stupid joke; "I think you moaning "daddy! daddy!" worked magic."
"Satoru!" you have to scoldingly smack him on the head with your book.
He just giggles cheekily and crawls up to snuggle your chest.
— ★
For the following week, you catch Satoru scrolling through lists of online baby names, and beaming to his students that he's gonna be a dad. Boasting as much as he possibly can to every available ear.
When he tells anyone about you being pregnant, he phrases it very carefully; "She's going to be the mother of my children." he says proudly, chin lifted a bit, smug smirk on his face that even you want to slap off.
Yeah he's so smug and annoying. Anyways, he cries when he stares at the ultrasound.
He keeps it in his wallet. He shows it to everyone. He looks at it while he's in his office at Jujutsu High.
Seeing your tummy get rounder and fuller turns Satoru into a softer man.
— ★
Satoru always greets your tummy like the baby can hear him. He talks to it every night as if he's helping Littler Gojo fall asleep, but actually his voice is putting you to sleep.
He comes up to you, cooing carefully in case you're having a mood swing, and squishes his cheek to your tummy.
And when you come out of the bedroom in the mornings looking your roughest, Satoru smiles wide and says without fail every time;
"Oh there's my mama goddess, how'd you sleep with Little Gojo's kung fu last night?"
When the baby kicks, he's always got some funny response;
"Hey, I'm the Strongest, kid."
"Don't kick. Be nice to mommy's tummy."
"Damn, this kid's trynna beat up his dad's pretty face!"
"Wow, you're gonna be a martial artist I just know it."
In fact, talking to your tummy is something Satoru loves the most.
When he gets home from a tiring day at work, he kisses you hard and then lowers himself onto his knees and greets your tummy.
"Hey kid, how's it going in there? Gettin' stronger? Good. Good. Hey I heard that! Don't talk back to me. Gosh, you're already gettin' rebellious."
"Satoru... what are you doing?"
"Talking to our baby." he replies innocently. "She's very intelligent. Just like her mommy."
"Oh is that so? I like that. She'll be as smart as mommy and as strong as daddy."
His cheeks go a bit pink.
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© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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way2pretty4this · 8 months
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Romanticizing Your Life (in a way that won't drain your bank account)
Make a happy playlist and listen to it while going on a walk
start a journal (doesn't have to be consistent, just when you have something to say)
Try baking something (I suck at baking, so if you've ever broken a stove or an oven, this idea is NOT for you)
Try drinking water. In a real glass. You're going to feel so fancy.
Light some candles and buy some flowers for yourself.
Put on a face mask (This never fails to make me feel like the main character)
Watch the sunrise or sunset (If you live far away from a place where you can see it then drive.)
Read a book
Take the newspaper and find the crossword section. Take this to a coffee shop and do it there with your favorite drink (I've been doing this once week and it is genuinely the best part of my day)
Try smiling more. Not in a weird way, but people will react kindly to you if you show them kindness. Its gonna make you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Paint your nails a color you like (as someone who never has her nails painted, this makes me feel so bougie)
Listen to a podcast. Doesn't have to be a serious one. Either way you'll feel so mature.
TAKE A BUBBLE BATH. I don't do this very often but oh my gosh. I wish I did. It's so relaxing. You could even up it by playing relaxing music from your phone and pretending you're in a spa.
Make your space yours. I mean your room should look like a physical representation of your personality. If this means there are paint splatters on the walls and rubber ducks hanging from the ceiling thats okay. If it means the whole room is painted black and there are 3 pieces of furniture, this is okay. As long as you love it and it makes you feel comfortable.
Give yourself a signature scent. This isn't hard, you don't need to spend thousands of dollars on perfume. Just find a scent you really like, go to the drug store, and buy conditioner, shampoo, body wash, and lotion all with this scent. After you shower, use the lotion all over. This will make you smell like your scent and it's amazing. I started doing this a few months ago and I've gotten so many compliments on how I smell. You don't realize how big a compliment that is until you get it. Trust me.
Of course this is all for fun and you don't have to do any of it if you don't want to, but I think its a cute way to bring a little spark of joy into your daily lifestyle.
♡ Have fun! ♡
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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months
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-Alastor x spouse!gn!reader:
Alastor and his Spouse had been together ever since they were alive and his spouse had always been his right hand in life and death. Just giving a helping hand if Alastor needed it, watching proudly as he became a powerful overlord. But then Alastor disappeared and no one knew where he had gone to, not even his beloved spouse. After a year or so of searching and waiting for their husband to come back, they accepted that he was gone and went on to become an overlord themselves, getting some tips from Rosie here and there. After a while they became isolated, only ever going out to gossip with Rosie or attend meetings with the other overlords. And they were never really a fan of the media or technology either. Only ever listening to their husbands radio, sometimes even joining in. So they weren’t aware of their husbands return, only seeing him for the first time in 7 years at one of the meetings with the other overlords. And they were pissed.
Sorry, that was really long.. my bad :[
Also, no pressure if you don’t want to go write this <3
A/N okay one, don’t apologize. Two, this ask is awesome. Three, I hope what I’ve done with it makes you happy :)
Wrath (Alastor x Overlord!Spouse!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Gn!Reader
Warnings: Tame as heck for the most part, ngl.
Word Count: 1,820
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Y/n had never known life without Alastor. They had grown up together, shared a wild childhood in the back streets of New Orleans. Nothing can ever beat that type of love and so, when they were fifteen and terrified and he asked them on their first date, how could they say no?
One date turned into two and before either really had time to sit back and take stock of their lives, they were twenty and married. Alastor had a budding career as a radio host and Y/n found a simple joy in the life of a house-partner. Things had been happy, they had been good.
The pair had always been inseparable, attached at the hip. That first night Alastor had come home, eyes wide and suit soaked in blood? Y/n had handed him a damp towel. Even their entrance into death had been together, shot by a hunter while burying a body.
It had been a joy to watch him grow and change, to witness the way their husband built a life for them in the world of the living and nothing changed that when they entered Hell. They were his right hand, his everything. That was why it hurt so much when he disappeared one day without a trace.
Alastor had never done that before, not tell them what was going on. He'd been gone for days, weeks at a time on rare occasions, tracking some demon he was intent on killing or the like. This was different. They always talked before hand, he always made sure Y/n was safe and set up with their mutual friend Rosie for their protection. This time, there hadn't even been a note.
In tears, Y/n had wandered their way into Cannibal Town. Rosie's smile had slipped from her face upon welcoming them into the little shop she ran, quickly ushering the demon into the back room. Y/n, while they had been a right hand in their first life and this one, had never been an active part in Alastor's work. Sure, they leant a hand if he needed one, but the occasion he did was rare and most of them helping him was through making sure he had a hot meal to come home to and a loving environment to exist in. They had never had a life without him in it and refused to believe they were entering into one now.
The first weeks were rough. Y/n stayed with Rosie, in the same guest room they always did but, they barley left it. When Rosie suggested they start looking for her lost partner, Y/n had jumped up. It was a shred of hope, something to hold onto.
A year of searching went by. Rosie tried, did everything in her power to keep Y/n happy and hopeful, to keep her safe. Time is the cruelest master of all and not even Rosie could stop the doubt it brought to her friend.
"I can't do this anymore, Rose." Y/n admitted one day as they drank their coffee, "I... He's not coming back."
"You don't know that!" Rosie had insisted, grasping Y/n's hands across the table.
"We've been looking for a year. There hasn't been the slightest bit of evidence. I... I can't do it anymore. I have to move on."
And move on they did. With their husband gone, there were empty shoes to be filled among the overlords of Hell and who better to fill them than Y/n? They worked hard, training. They grew strong and it payed off at last when two and a half years after their husband's disappearance, Y/n managed to take down an overlord, officially indoctrinating them into their ranks.
The more time went on, the more feared of a figure they became. Y/n had hoped it would have been a distraction, carrying on Alastor's legacy. The loneliness ate away at them. He had always been there, and now he was suddenly gone. The more powerful they became, the more they retreated into themselves. They became a rumor, a name whispered behind closed doors.
Y/n still held out a spark of hope that one day, Alastor would return. As they hit the seven year line since his disappearance, that too fizzled out. Things were getting bad in Hell, the last extermination had been the most brutal in history. Just the other day, word had come in that Heaven wasn't even going to wait their normal year before the next one, only a meager six months. Even with Y/n's aversion to all things media, they were only a painful reminder of what they had lost, after all, they managed to hear about it. It was a big deal, and a terrifying one too.
Of course, in response to this, Carmilla had called a meeting. When Carmilla Carmine called a meeting, there wasn't an overlord in all of Hell who wasn't going to show up. It was serious, she meant buisness.
Y/n had dragged themselves out of the place that had become their home over the past seven years. One of the first things they had taught themselves how to do was to travel through shadows, the way their husband had. With a snap of their fingers, the shadows took them, spitting them back out in the waiting room of Carmilla's offices.
Looking around, Y/n caught sight of Rosie and approached their oldest friend.
"Hey, Rose." they hummed placidly.
"Oh! Y/n! What a pleasure to see you here." she smiled back, turning to face them, "I half expected you wouldn't show."
"You know me." Y/n shrugged, "I come when it's important."
"I'm worried about you." Rosie admitted after a moment, her smile faltering slightly, "You've been spotted out and about less and less."
"I'm fine, I promise." Y/n weakly reassured, "I'm drinking water and touching grass or whatever. I just... socializing isn't super my thing anymore."
"Yes but, you're putting a target on your back doing that." Rosie insisted, "People are going to start wondering, start questioning your power and authority. You should at least go rough someone up, or start a business! Establish your presence."
"Don't worry, Rose." Y/n smiled, their mouth full of razor sharp fangs, "Let 'em come. I can take care of myself now."
"That you can." she relented.
Y/n turned, surveying the room which held a handful of Hell's other top overlords. They recognized a couple, but there were a few they didn't know. They let out a sigh, eyes turning to the elevator doors as they slid open to reveal Zestial.
Y/n raised their hand, intending to wave a greeting to the oldest and most respected of their group as he entered the room, but froze. Their hand at chest level, their eyes went wide as they caught sight of a familiar shock of red hair.
"Fucking... Al?" they whispered, their arm falling to their side as they took half a step forward.
"What did you say?" Rosie asked.
It sounded like her voice was coming from somewhere underwater, the world was spinning.
"What's the matter?" Rosie asked, following the path of Y/n's gaze.
As her eyes landed on Alastor, standing clear as day at the other end of the room and casually conversing with Zestial, she gasped lightly.
"Oh my."
"I'll be back in a second, Rose." Y/n hissed through clenched teeth, their hands balled into tight fists.
With fluid, silent footfalls, they stormed across the room and came to a stop beside Alastor. The room fell silent at the sight. They all knew of the pair's story, had heard from Rosie about how long and how hard Y/n had searched for their husband. Hearing the silence, Alastor turned, his eyes locking with Y/n's.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, placing a hand gently on the top of their head, "How have you been, darling? Zestial was just telling me about what great strides you-"
Y/n harshly took his hand from their head, the strength with which they held his wrist cutting Alastor off. They took a step forward, now just an inch away from Alastor as they glared up at him. Fury coursed through their veins as he watched them in mild confusion.
"Seven years." Y/n scoffed.
Alastor made no reply, simply continuing to watch his spouse as they practically frothed at the mouth.
"Seven fucking years." they repeated, releasing the grip on his wrist.
"I'm here now."
The slap echoed through the silence like the crack of a whip. Alastor stumbled back to slightest bit, his hand raised to his cheek.
"You..." Y/n took a deep breath, trying to calm themselves, "Al, where the fuck were you? How... how long have you been back?"
"A few days." he admitted.
Y/n's eyes widened as they processed the information.
"A... a few days?" they scoffed, "A few days? You know what? You didn't tell me when you left, why should I have expected you'd tell me you were back."
Y/n turned away from him, rubbing their forehead in irritation. Alastor hesitated before taking a step forward, placing a hand gently on their shoulder.
"Lov-"
"What?" Y/n spat, spinning back around to face him.
Their teeth were sharp, elongated and dripping. Tears welled in their eyes. Alastor's breath caught in his chest.
"Fucking what?!"
"Please, let me make it up to you." his voice was soft and gentle, the same one he used when they were alone together.
"I..." Y/n took another deep breath, "I don't know if you can."
Tears were streaming down their cheeks now, falling thick and fast. Their body glitched, half transformed into their full demon state and half staying as their more human public face. It pained him to see. If he had had any other choice, he would have done something different. He had never wanted to hurt them. Alastor reached out, grabbing their hands in his.
"Please, let me try."
"Why should I!" Y/n screamed back at him, pulling their hands out of his reach, "Seven years! Seven fucking years! You promised me. You promised me we'd stick together."
The grief seemed to be winning in its battle over the anger as the glitches slowed. Their teeth shrunk back to normal and their voice faded, becoming softer, weaker.
"I'll explain everything just please, please give me a chance."
Y/n sighed. Lifting their hands to their face, they pressed their palms into their eyes. They stood like that for a moment, unmoving and silent. Alastor waited, tense with anticipation. At last, they looked up at him once again, their arms falling loosely to their sides.
"Fine." they sharply stated and Alastor's smile grew, "After the meeting. You get as much time as it takes me to drink a cup of coffee. Deal?"
"Deal."
----
A/N ngl I wasn't super sure how to end this fic but I really like it and this was such a fun request to write. I love and angry reader.
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chrisevansonly · 7 months
Text
𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜
ʚ charles leclerc x female reader
ʚ nothing is more special than watching your baby boy take his first steps…and of course watching your husband get emotional that his little one is growing up…
ʚ no warnings, very soft and fluffy
ʚ i really wanted to write a dad!charles so here we are even if i still feel iffy about my writing lol, i hope you guys enjoy it! requests are still open for little blurb ideas, fics, smau’s etc<3
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For parents there was never a greater joy than watching their child grow, learn and get more and more curious as they became older. For little Théo Leclerc who had just turned 9 months, he was proficient at crawling and getting into anything and everything, you blamed his father’s drive and determination on that. He was as curious as babies come, intrigued in anything his mother and father were doing, he loved playing with coloured blocks, reading bedtime stories with his parents at night, he was the definition of a blessing to both you and Charles.
“good morning chérie, smells delicious down here”
You smiled turning to press a gentle kiss to Charles’s cheek, a soft smile on your face
“morning my love, thought i’d make some pancakes, Théo has been loving them”
“his mother is an amazing cook can you blame him? where is he anyway, it’s too quiet…”
You laughed pointing over to the little area you had set up on your living room, toys and books spilled across the hardwood floor
“he has been quite busy this morning, haven’t you petit prince?”
Cooing slightly at the mini Charles in the corner he giggled looking at you, upon noticing his father he began to wiggle on the floor, slowly making his way over on his hands and knees
“es-tu impatient de me voir bébé!?”
Théo squealed happily, finally making it to Charles who was quick to pick up the happy baby, who’s hands rested on his father’s face
“Look at that happy face! He’s so cute it makes me want to cry…are you so happy to see papa?”
You laughed seeing the smile on his face as he wiggled around in Charles’s arms, coming over to press kisses across his face only intensifying it
“You are going to squirm right onto the floor if you keep doing that”
Théo only giggled, his hands grabbing at the now cooking pancakes that rested on his plate
“Papa will put you in your chair and you can have some breakfast okay my love?”
“Can’t have you hungry can we little worm”
Snorting out a laugh you turned to him
“Little worm?”
“Have you seen him when he does that wiggle? You should hold him when he does it, he’s like a worm”
Shaking your head you couldn’t help but realize that was probably a good nickname for your son, when he got excited there was no stopping that wiggle.
-
Théo was quick to finish his breakfast, never leaving anything behind on his plate, so while you cleaned up, you set him down gently on the floor, though he never really stayed in one place, so as your back was turned he had made it over to his dad who was sitting in the living room, cleaning up the mess baby tornado had left behind. Upon reaching the couch, Théo had grabbed onto the couch to stand up, gripping onto the fabric he got to his feet, letting out a squeal, instantly catching the attention of Charles.
“What are you up too bébé, sois prudent…”
On instinct he moved a bit closer before pausing when Théo began to take steps towards him
“Chérie, regarde ça! Théo marche!”
Quickly turning to look towards the living room you grabbed your phone, immediately walking over to film your baby boy, tears in your eyes as you smiled
“Bravo petit prince! Tu vas si bien!”
Théo giggled walking a few more steps before collapsing into his fathers chest
“He-He walked! Char…he-I can’t believe he walked!”
Joining your boys on the floor you couldn’t help but notice the little tears that rested on your husbands cheeks as well, taking your thumb and gently wiping them off his skin
“I can’t believe it…he-he walked right to me, please tell me you got that”
Nodding you showed him the video once again on your phone, getting to experience the moment all over again, Charles hugging Théo closer
“You’re growing up too fast…can’t believe you’re walking”
“Aw baby, he’s still little…don’t worry”
You kissed his cheek gently, a hand rubbing Théo’s back softly
“Tu seras toujours le petit prince de papa, n'est-ce pas?”
He giggled wiggling around a little bit for Charles to put him back down, watching as he began to crawl around once again
“I’m going to miss him as a baby…”
“I know you will, but we still have some time…besides, who said we have to stop at one?”
Hearing your words Charles looked at you, a slight twinkle in his eyes
“Je suppose que nous avons du travail à faire…”
You smiled shaking your head before pressing a firm kiss to his lips, only pulling away when Théo began to walk once again, only this time heading away from you both
“Well here we go…”
Laughter filled the room as you and Charles took after your now very quick baby boy, what you thought was fast at a crawl, seemed to be lightning speed now that he was on his feet.
You wouldn’t change anything for the world, you’re family was perfect, and you couldn’t be happier…even if your little one was growing up too fast…
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sturnsdoll · 17 days
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𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳𝒀 𝑮𝑭 ˚୨୧⋆。 - C.S
(headcannons!)
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warnings: hc's, chris x hyperfeminine/girly reader, sfw and nsfw but they are labelled as such. nsfw warnings: dom!chris, brat!gf, teasing, mostly suggestive.
authors note: i had fun with this so if y'all want a pt2 or any other hc's pls send reqs for them!
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SFW !
₊⊹⤑ chris always admired how in touch with your feminimity you are. he always loved the bows, dainty necklaces, skirts and lace, it made you seem so delicate and sweet.
₊⊹⤑ chris will always jump at an opportunity to help you braid your hair (which you taught him.), clip a necklace for you, zip the back of your dress. he loves helping you out no matter how big or small.
₊⊹⤑ anytime you're doing your makeup or picking out an outfit you can always find chris watching with adoration.
₊⊹⤑ even when chris didn't understand something, he still loved it. did he know what the difference between cream or powdered blush? nope. but nonetheless, he thought it looked pretty on you.
₊⊹⤑ did he know what the hell the difference between coffin or square was? also no. but he paid for your nails anyways because he knew it brought you joy.
₊⊹⤑ he'll find any reason to get close to you so he can take in your familiar sweet scent..
₊⊹⤑ from your hair to your clothes to your perfume, you always smell like candy, cake, anything and everything heavenly.
₊⊹⤑ sometimes your delicate appearance comes back to bite you in the ass though.. you and chris will get into small arguements and he'll just stand staring at you, a small smile growing on his face..
₊⊹⤑ "what's funny jackass?" "jus' can't take you serious when you look that cute" he'd tease you.
NSFW !
₊⊹⤑ despite your delicate exterier, chris knows you have another side to you. ₊⊹⤑ chris would casually congragulate you on things infront of friends with a nonchalant "good girl." or "you're doing so well" that would make your thighs clench. ₊⊹⤑ chris knew exactly what he was doing though. he would say the same things when you were on your knee's for him or when you asked him before you came. ₊⊹⤑ what did you love more than chris' praise though? ₊⊹⤑ being a brat.
₊⊹⤑ on days where you'd wear your short skirts and dresses, you'd always make sure to tease him. sitting on his lap, bending over near him to let him catch a glimpse of your lacey thong. ₊⊹⤑ you especially loved doing this in public where he couldn't do anything about it.
₊⊹⤑ he'd whisper in your ear "keep it up sweetheart, i'll bend you over my lap the second we're home." and he would. ₊⊹⤑ he loved how your attitude betrayed your sweetness, but you know what he loved even more? to fuck it out of you. ₊⊹⤑ "such a dirty mouth for such a sweet girl. maybe we should fix that hm?" and next thing you'd know you were on your knee's, doe eyes looking all fucked out as he filled your perfectly glossed lips.
₊⊹⤑ skirts were also a weakness of his for other reasons. easy access when you were sitting in his lap asking for attention or when he wanted to tease you under the table at dinner with friends.
₊⊹⤑ it was nearly impossible to say no to you though.
₊⊹⤑ you'd come to him while he was getting ready. "chris. i need you" "i need to film in a few. later okay baby?" "chris please." then he'd catch sight of you.. ₊⊹⤑ pretty little top with your clevage peeking out, your hair pulled back with ribbon but little pieces framing your face. a desperation in your eyes that only he can fix.
₊⊹⤑ how could he say no to you?
₊⊹⤑ so before he'd film, he'd lay you out across your bed on your fluffy blankets. his head would dissapear beneath your skirt till your perfectly manicured nails were dug in his scalp, till you were more than satisfied. ₊⊹⤑ matt and nick couldn't help but giggle when he entered the car. ₊⊹⤑ "dude.." nick started. chris looked at his brothers confused "what?". "you have pink lipgloss ALL around your mouth.." matt would tell him knowingly.
₊⊹⤑ wonder where that came from?...
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tags: @mattsrod @sturncakez
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yuyusboyfriend · 8 months
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Cookies & Cream
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pairing: nerd!seonghwa x reader
wordcount: 2,7k
content: your tutor helps himself to the cookies in your bag despite you telling him countless times no, without knowing what they really are.
warnings: nsfw, aphrodisiacs, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest or other gendered terms) dom!reader, sub!seonghwa, use of pet names (baby, love), unprotected sex (wrap it ☝️) mentions of food, mentions of sex toys, blow job, cunnilingus (pussy ATE 🗣), edging, some body worship, lmk if there's anything else
Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
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You had told Seonghwa that on the way to his dorm for a study session, you'd be picking up snacks to get you through the next few dreaded hours. Not that you dreaded spending time with seonghwa, the boy was a pleasure to look at, big brown eyes smiling at you every time you grasped a concept thanks to his help; the warmth of his body engulfing yours when he leant over you to help with a question.
Okay, that wasn't so much helpful as it was distracting, but you liked it nonetheless. You wondered if Seonghwa had any relationship experience, because of the way he was oblivious to almost every move anyone made on him, and would turn fire engine-red when he heard you talk about anything slightly sexual. From your observations, you had concluded that this man has probably never felt the touch of a lover. Still he was a lovely boy, sweet and innocent,,, it kind of did something for you.
“Did you get me turtle chips?” Seonghwa questioned through the front door.
“No 'hello y/n! You made it! Nice to see you'? What did you do with my sweet seonghwa?” you sighed at him, knowing you bought him both the originals, and the churro version. Pretending to not notice the blush on his cheeks, likely caused by the 'my sweet seonghwa' comment, you strolled passed him till you reached your regular spot on the sofa. You pulled the snacks out one by one, watching the joy on Seonghwa's face as you brought all of his favourites to last him until the next session.
“What's in the tub?” seonghwa eyed the plastic tub you had put bag into your bag after pulling the rest of the drinks out.
“Cookies I made, and before you ask, no you can't have any.” you warn.
Seonghwa pouts like his life depends on it, devastated as he adores home-baked goods, especially the ones you make for him. "Why? Who are they for?? Are you seeing someone after me?” he blurts out a little too desperately.
“Why? You jealous, Hwa?” you smirk at him, watching him turn red once again at your words.
“I'm not jealous! I was… just worried because it'll be late by the time you leave, I don't want you wandering around at night…” he gets quieter with each word.
Ah shit, you feel kind of guilty now. You stood up to walk over to the table where always study together, ruffling his hair as you go. “Oh, Hwa, I'm going straight back home after this, don't worry your sweet little head,” you reassure his worrying.
You hadn't realised your tutor had cared so much about you, before this you didn't even know if he considered you friends. Your stomach fluttered at the idea, knowing that seonghwa didn't have many people he considered friends, you could count them all in one hand.
He huffed and pulled out his chair, handing you the test papers you had filled last session, with red pen markings on it showing you where to improve.
“You did really well, if you keep this up you'll be passing with flying colours. I added a couple suggestions on where you can expand on points, but otherwise, you did an amazing job y/n.” He smiles softly at you, proud that your hard work has been paying off.
After an hour of going over some new material from your classes with him, you decide to take a break to stretch and eat the food you brought. Although, you both had already cleared a bag of turtle chips and a bowl of M&Ms in that time, as well as a bottle of your favourite drink.
“Hwa I'm going to the bathroom, ill be back in a minute” you announced to your friend as you walked down the hallway to his spotless bathroom; you always admired how clean seonghwa was, sometimes he'd even help you with yours when you held study sessions there.
Honestly, seonghwa was still hung up on why you didn't let him eat the cookies in your bag, the clear container told him there was way more than you could eat on your own,,,
Surely—you wouldn't notice if one was missing…right?
The boy looked over to the hallway, listening to the sound of you—fighting the shower curtain? He couldn't tell, but you sounded busy. He turned his head back to your bag and reached in, opening the tub and taking one…must've okay three cookies, stuffing them in his mouth and chewing them as fast as he could. They tasted like heaven, he could tell they were a little different from your regular ones, you must've tried a new recipe? Maybe that's why you were so adamant about him not having any? Whatever it was, it was hardly noticeable, the crispy marshmallows taking over his taste buds. He quite literally moaned at the taste, almost annoyed that he nearly missed out on this.
He washed them down with the strawberry milk he kept stocked and put everything back where it was, just as you walked out of the bathroom.
“Alright, what have we got left?” you looked at the boy standing by his chair.
“Uh, we”, Seonghwa went to answer your question but his brain completely blanked. “We were…” he looked at the table to remember where you had left off, but you had already his noticed is off demeanour.
“Hwa, you good?” you tilted your head at the boy, watching him push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
“I'm great y/n! Lets, uh, get back to the work?” he avoided looking in your direction, his body feeling funny - fuck, what did you put in those cookies? He thought.
“Hwa. What did you just say? Did you—Did you eat the cookies I told you not to!?” You started raising your voice at him, more worried about him than anything.
“I-I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd notice if a few were gone…” he says under his breath, feeling overwhelmingly heavy. His emotions feeling all too strong to the point where he feels a tear rolling down his cheek before he could stop it. His core felt like hot coals, and his skin more painfully tender than he had ever experienced in his life.
"Sit down, I'm gonna get you some water… I know this is a weird question, but are you seeing anybody currently that I can call?" you already knew the answer, but you didn't want to risk it.
"Wh-what? No, I'm not seeing anybody y/n, why would you need to-" He huffed out a groan as his sweatpants grew tighter and rubbed against his swelling hard on.
"Okay, those cookies you just ate? They're aphrodisiac cookies, I hadn't even had a chance to test them out, I was going to when I got home…" you reluctantly looked at Seonghwa's horrified expression, mixed with sweat forming on his brow. You watched as he fidgeted and pulled at his irritating clothing, his hips rutting and bucking subtly against nothing.
"Hwa you wouldn't happen to have any… sex toys, would you? I can go to the pharmacy and pick some up, It's not far." you already start grabbing his spare set of keys and your jacket to leave, if you went now it would only take 8 minutes-
"In the bottom drawer of my desk, can you help me get to my room?" Oh. So he wasn't as innocent as you thought. He reached out for you, barely able to stand by himself now, his legs feeling like they would crumble under his weight. As you wrapped Seonghwa's arm over your shoulder, pulling him up, he pressed his body against yours, resting his head on your shoulder. God, the scent of you was making him harder, barely restraining himself from biting your neck while you walked him to his bedroom.
He slumped into his bed, not waiting any longer to take his shirt off. He wanted to burn the damn thing now, the material felt torturous on his sensitive nipples. You looked at him in awe, his blushing body making your mouth dry and your hands ache to feel him under them.
"Well, I'm gonna go-"
"No."
You looked at him in confusion, seeing his darkened eyes filled with desire, "What do you mean, no?"
"The least you could do is help me...please?"
That's all you needed to jump into his lap and connect your lips. The kiss was filled with desperation, teeth bumping and tongues swirling together, fighting for dominance in your mouths. You grind against his aching cock, dragging a whine from his sweet voice.
"Sweatpants off, now Hwa" need dripping from each word, you didn't have to tell seonghwa twice. He lifted his hips up on the bed, and he pulled them off with your help. You took a moment to take in his figure. He was gorgeous, I mean, you already knew that, but lying here looking so desperate for your touch gave you goosebumps. You wanted to devour him; and you would do just that. You leant down between his legs to his stiff cock, kitten licking his soaked tip.
"Oh fuck," He squirmed under your tongue, hips trying to buck into your mouth for more. You held his hips down as you took him fully to the back of your throat. He cried out sweet whimpers at the feeling of your mouth around his cock, taken away all too quickly as you came back up for air. He didn't have to suffer for too long, though, as you formed a steady rhythm with your hand.
"I'm gonna cum y/n it feels too good," tears rolled down his reddened cheeks.
You took his cock out of your mouth with a pop, "love, we just started, I can't have you cumming that quickly now, can I?" untying the string of your own sweats, pulling them down with your underwear, exposing your bottom half to seonghwa. His member twitching and leaking at just the sight of you.
"You're my tutor, shouldn't you be helping me, hm? Why don't you let me sit on your face, and you can show me how to make someone cum, baby?"
Hwa had a habit of swiping his tongue against his lip when he was thinking, or doing anything and fuck, he was so sexy about it. It fuelled so many wet dreams and solo sessions, you couldn't wait to feel it in action.
God, he did not disappoint. He swiped his tongue across your soaking cunt, swirling around your swollen clit. You cried out at the sensations of him ravaging you as you stimulated your clit on the tip of his nose, while he fucked your starving hole with his long tongue. It didn't take long for the pressure in the pit of your stomach to build, you barely had time to warn seonghwa before you came on his tongue. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and rocked your hips against his face as you rode out your high.
You admired his fucked out face, your arousal still across his mouth and nose, and leaned over to kiss him again. “Okay, it's only fair you have your turn Hwa, ready baby?”
He could only whine out your name and beg for you to fuck him, he was so ethereal in this state. You couldn't wait to see him cum. As you sank down on his cock, he sat up and gripped your hips so hard it would leave marks he wanted to worship after. Once you bottomed out, you stayed there, letting seonghwa adjust to the feeling. He pulled your shirt over your head and kissed your skin, scattering hickeys across your chest.
"Fuck you're so tight y/n, please move," he keeps his hands on you trying to roll your hips against him.
"And you're such a needy boy, should've listened to me when I told you not to eat those cookies, hm?" you cooed at the boy looking into glossy eyes, before lifting yourself up and slamming back down, ripping the loudest moan yet out of seonghwa. You kept a slow, steady pace, teasing and punishing seonghwa for this very avoidable situation, more so because you worried that this would be the last time on his cock. Fuck he was perfect, he filled you so much better than your exes', hitting all the spots you never knew you needed.
But, He couldn't take much more of the pace and took it into his own hands, flipping you on your back and lifting your legs over his shoulders to put you in a mating press. Once he had you like that you knew you were done for. His hips slammed into your cunt, making your jaw drop, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. The way he pounded you deliciously had you seeing stars, Your groans just short of screams; not so much because you didn't need to but for his neighbours' sake, although you were already expecting to hear about a complaint in the morning anyway.
"fuck, fuck y/n you feel so good," He huffed out a series of thank-yous and sweet nothings into your skin, worshipping your pussy like he was willing to die for it.
He picked up his pace, thrusting just as deep, and you knew you wouldn't be able to last much longer, by the looks on his face he was right there with you. You cried out again when he moved his hand to your clit, circling with his thumb at the same pace as he was dipping into your cunt, your orgasm just on the edge.
"Y/n I'm gonna cum I can't-" was all he could get out before you clenched tightly around his cock, your own orgasm beating his. He pressed his hips down into your cunt, his cum filling you, leaking out from your hole. He rocked in and out once more before finally, and reluctantly, pulling out, watching his cum leak out of you.
Once he had helped you clean up and changed the bedsheets, you started looking for your scattered clothes to go home, you didn't know how to face seonghwa, guilt rushing back through your veins.
"Where you going?" seonghwa looked at you from the bed with sad eyes.
"well you know, I thought- I thought I should…." you mumbled.
"Come back, I'm not done yet…and I'm cold…" seonghwa smiled sweetly, pulling the blanket back for you to get in with him. With a sigh of relief, you picked up one of his hoodies he had left on the back of his desk chair and pulled it over your head before climbing into bed with seonghwa. As soon as you were under the covers his arms wrapped tightly around you, slipping his hands under the hoodie.
"Are you okay with this? I mean, is it okay that I like you as more than a tutee? Seonghwa softly admitted into your neck as he held you closer, rubbing circles into the small of your back. His breathing against your neck gave you goosebumps, you wouldn't ever want to leave his arms if it was an option.
"You like me? Wow Hwa, you're trying to take advantage of your student" you teased, but not for long when he looked at you pouting. Instead of answering with your words, you pressed your lips to his once again, taking your time to enjoy feeling his soft lips and the way that you fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle. You fiddled with the hair that reached his nape pulling a satisfied hum from seonghwa.
You pulled away to look into his pretty eyes, "So, tell me more about the toys in the draw?"
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AHHH this took ages ,,,,, I deleted like 1000 words and started over bc I wasn't happy with it but now! It is done!!!!!!!! Who next......
also not proof read so sorry for any mistakes !
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watchmegetobsessed · 4 months
Text
MISTAKEN HATRED
A/N: okay im veeery nervous about this one bc its the longest story i've written in probably months and it took me sooo long to finish it so im just praying its not utter shit 🙃 anywaysss, happy holidays guys! it's not overly festive, but it has some vibes so im labeling it as my xmas fic haha feedback is always appreciated! 🎄
WORD COUNT: 6.3k
SUMMARY: Things don't go as smooth as you planned with your bakery's opening, but you're doing your best to overcome the struggles. However there is one person who is hating on your business as if it was his job: Harry Styles. You just wish you knew what you did to earn his hatred...
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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This is not how you imagined the last weeks before your official opening. 
You imagined the interrior to be fully done by now so you can focus on the last touches, ordering the right ingredients and promoting the opening.
Instead, you’re staring at what’s supposed to be your eight tables, intact and put together but it’s all in pieces. You specifically remember the website said they would deliver them done and you wouldn’t have to play puzzles. But they arrived six days late and very much not the way they promised. 
Taking a deep breath you stare up at the ceiling and decide to take the trash out before turning your bakery into Ikea.
“It’s alright. I can do this. I can do anything,” you keep telling yourself as you drag out the trash bags that are almost the size of you. 
You knew opening your own business would be tough. Especially in Eroda, the little town you have some of your earliest memories from, where your grandma used to live, the place that was closest to her heart and it breaks yours to know she couldn’t spend her last years here because she was too sick to live on her own. 
She never asked you to come back here, but the moment you found her recipe books the summer after she passed, you just knew what you had to do. Now it’s been three years and you’re finally opening Nana’s that will bring her warmth and love back to Eroda, or you hope so. 
Pushing the door open with your shoulder, you keep dragging the bags to the containers behind the small shop and you’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t even notice the two people just a couple of feet away.
“Hi, Love!”
You recognize Anne’s sweet, chirpy voice and a smile spreads across your face even before you look up, but the moment you see the person standing next to her, all joy just drains from your body. 
Harry Styles is standing as grouchy and arrogant as always next to his mother, hands hidden in the pockets of his fleece jacket, his unruly curls are tucked underneath his beanie and any normal woman would be into the man, but you. Not after he very clearly let you know you don’t belong here and you should take your business back to the city where you came from. 
You expected some resistance, not much has changed in town in the past decades and you had a feeling some might want to keep it that way, but you guessed older people would riot against your bakery, not a thirty years old grown man. 
“Hi Anne,” you smile back and mustering up all your strength you throw one of the bags into the bin, but you overestimated your muscle work, because it only falls to the edge and almost topples right out. Luckily, you grab it just in time and push it in.
“Oh, dear, those bags are bigger than you! Harry, help her!” 
“No, it’s alri–” 
Before you get to protest, Harry strides over to you and grabs the remaining two bags as if they weighed nothing and throws them into the bin without breaking a sweat. 
Of course he is fit, the man probably runs up the hill carrying twice his weight every morning, because that’s how you can imagine him working out. 
Though you shouldn’t be imagining anything about him.
“Thanks,” you purse your lips and square your shoulders as you face the two of them.
“How is everything coming together?”
Anne has been so enthusiastic about your bakery, she comes around probably every other day, checks in on your progress and always offers her help. 
“Um, it is… okay, I guess,” you let out a tired chuckle. Glancing over at Harry you see him looking to the side, as if he wasn’t even listening, but something is telling you he is very much focused on the conversation.
Yeah, that’s right, I’m still here! Not even your arrogance can chase me away!
Anne cranes her neck, peeking into the shop and she spots the pile in the middle.
“Oh, are you planning to put those together by yourself? Harry, why don’t you help her?”
The moment she suggests, you both protest.
“No, there’s no need.”
“Mum, I don’t really have the time,” he says at the same time, but it doesn’t seem to go through. Anne’s phone starts ringing and she excuses herself, leaving the two of you there. 
Great, this is all you were missing today, an awkward, forced situation with the man who wants to see you gone. Perfect.
“Should’ve ordered them done, don’t you think?” he speaks up, nodding towards the shop.
At first, you just blink at him, then close your eyes and when you open them, you have the fakest smile on your twitching face.
“What a wonderful idea! I totally did not think of that!”
“Then send them back and ask them to bring what you ordered.” He rolls his eyes and it’s irking you so much. You definitely don’t need his stupid advices, not when you’re terribly behind your schedule.
“They arrived almost a week later than they should have, if I send them back there’s now ay they will send me the new ones in time for the opening.”
Harry stands there, staring at the pile of furniture pieces inside and for a moment you think he might actually offer his help, which you’re not sure you’d have accepted, but it remains a mystery, because that’s not what he says when he speaks up.
“I’m busy for real. Mum likes to offer my help around without asking me.”
It takes you a couple of moments to figure out what you feel about what he just said. And when you finally do, you see red.
“As I said, I don’t need help. I did everything by myself and I will get this done as well. I don’t need your unwanted, half-assed effort to pretend like you’re helping me.”
You come off rougher than you probably should have, but he’s been bugging you ever since you moved to Eroda. The man knows nothing about you or your business, yet every time he comes near your shop he acts like it physically pains him to even look at it. He’d be the last person you’d ask for help, he doesn’t have to act like he has so much to do and doesn’t have the time to help when he doesn’t actually want to help. 
Harry stares at you with such intensity you almost break and stutter a sorry out, but that’s when Anne returns.
“Ah, we have to run. But I will come by tomorrow, Darling. And Harry can hel–”
“No need for help,” you smile at her as gratefully as you can force yourself to be in this moment. 
“Alright, then see you later,” she waves and you nod at her before your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before they walk away and you return to your shop. 
It takes you six hours to assemble the tables later that day, but you do it.
With no help. 
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Moving to Eroda, it hasn’t been your only goal to have your business become part of the town but you also knew you’d have to become one of the locals as well. Only a handful of people know who your grandmother was and you don’t plan to reveal it until the opening. You want them to taste all the baked goods and think of her first and then put the picture together. But this means you’re a total newbie for most people around. Last time you spent more than just a day here was when you were sixteen and you’ve changed a lot since then, so it’s natural people don’t recognize you. 
Anne has been your biggest help in breaking the ice and involving you in as many things as possible so you get to meet the people of Eroda. The weeks leading up to Christmas are usually filled with all kinds of winter activities locals enjoy wholeheartedly. Concert by the town hall, decorating the trees at the main square, collecting donations and cooking for those in need for example. You’ve been to all of these and very much enjoyed being part of the community. This weekend however, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the new festive activity.
Ice-skating on the frozen lake.
It sounds nice and fun, but you’ve ice-skated only once in your life and ended up breaking your wrist. Not your favorite childhood memory for sure and you don’t exactly want to relive it as an adult. 
You arrive with the intention of just sipping some hot tea and watch everyone else skate around until your fingers are falling off and you can go back to the shop to finish putting up the tinker lights at the back. 
Anne however had different ideas about today. Because as soon as you arrive at the lake, she is waving at you, holding up a pair of skates and you know they are not hers, because she’s already wearing those. 
“Kick those boots off, Love, I brought you my old skates! Come join us!” She smiles brightly at you from next to the pier where people get on and off the ice. 
“Oh, no, I don’t skate, Anne, but thank you!”
“Don’t be silly, even Bernie is on the ice!” She nods towards the old man who must be at least eighty, sliding on the ice as if he did this all his life. He might have, you have no idea.
“It’s really not for me, I–”
“Just try it! Come on!” 
She drops the skates by your feet and then slides away, leaving you no chance to protest.
Staring down at the skates, you can feel your stomach churning, but as you look up you see that literally everyone is on the ice, you’d look weird standing on the pier on your own. 
“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you give in and sitting down you start peeling your boots off your feet. 
“You’ll break your ankle if you leave it that loose.”
You know the voice and it just adds to your stress even more. You see his black skates in front of you as you’re trying to lace your own up.
“Hi Harry, so good to see you again,” you hiss through your teeth. 
“Tighten it or you’ll fall.”
“I’ll fall either way,” you mumble as you go back and pull the laces tighter. When you’re done you straighten up, but remain sitting on the end of the pier, anxiously string down at your feet. Harry doesn’t speak, but you know he is still there, probably watching you, trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, why you’re not just standing up and going at it like everyone else. 
Your hands are holding onto the wood underneath you for dear life as you picture yourself finally moving, but you never get to actually acting. 
“Do you need help standing up?” Harry speaks up at last and his voice is different this time. It’s not as arrogant, maybe even concerned. Do you look that awful right now?
“N-No.” Your voice cracks and you hate that it’s him who sees you like this. 
“Doesn’t seem like–”
“Would you stop being an asshole for a moment?” you snap at him and finally look up, eyes meeting his examining gaze. You have no idea what he sees in yours, but a few seconds later he breaks eye-contact, looks around as if he is hesitating before he sits beside you at last.
“You don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”
“Tell that to your mother,” you mumble under your breath and it makes him laugh.
The sound of it is actually nice, surprising, but nice to hear something other than insults coming from his mouth.
“She can be a bit too much, but she’s just too enthusiastic.” You sit in silence for a bit before Harry turns to you. “You really don’t have to skate.”
“I want to take part, I just… I broke my wrist on the ice once when I was a kid and I haven’t tried skating since then.”
You didn’t plan on telling him much, but you felt like you had to explain why you’re being so dramatic. Part of you is expecting him to make fun of you for being scared of skating because of something that happened ages ago, but the arrogant comments never come.
Instead he stands up and when you look up at him he is holding a hand out to you.
“I’ll help you. You won’t fall.”
Any other day you’d think he is plotting against you, that he would get you to trust him and the trip you the first chance he got, but not this time. He looks and sounds genuine and as you take his hand, you put way too much trust into them than you would have ever allowed yourself to. 
You hold onto him with both hands and he keeps you steady as you finally attempt to push yourself up from the edge of the pier. Your knees wobble the moment your weight is on the blades and you instantly feel yourself losing balance, but Harry’s hands wrap around your arms and keep you from falling.
“It’s okay. Relax a bit, you’ll find your balance.” He encourages you and it’s almost strange to hear him so supportive of anything you’re doing, but not breaking your neck keeps you too busy to care about his random act of kindness. 
“Try to move forward.”
“I can’t,” you protest without even trying.
“You can, just relax.”
“Don’t tell me to relax, it’s not gonna help me relax!”
“Y/N, you’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t relax,” he warns you and you realize how fast you’re breathing and all your blood is being pumped into your head. 
“I-I can’t, I can’t do this, I–”
“Y/N, look at me!” His hands snap to your shoulders and you grab onto his biceps as you look him in the eyes while your chest is still heaving. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re not going to fall. I’m holding you, I promise.”
Focusing on his words you finally forget about your fears and instead, you’re now trying to figure out where this version of Harry came from and why he hid from you all along. 
You’re not one to trust people that easily, but just from this one promise he made, you let go of all your doubts and hesitation. 
“Okay,” you breathe out. Harry nods and his hands slowly slide lower until they rest on your waist. 
“You knew how to skate, right? Before you broke your wrist.” You nod. “Alright, then it will all come back quickly.”
There’s a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his lips and your heart pitter-patters in your chest, but not because of the skating this time. His hands on you are not helping either, because for some reason, you feel heat radiating through the millions of layers you’re wearing where his hands are touching you. 
What is happening?
“Okay, I’ll hold your hand and you just focus on moving forward, yeah?”
You nod and panic rises in your gut for a moment when his hands leave your shoulders, but then they instantly take your hands and you feel safe again. 
Slowly you start moving, inching forward, your hands gripping Harry’s so tight, you’re afraid you might hurt him, but you’d never let go of him, not when you’re getting farther away from the pier. 
“That’s it, you are doing great,” he encourages. “Try to move a bit less rigidly.”
“Easy to say that,” you breathe out shakily. 
It takes time to loosen up even the tiniest bit and not grip Harry’s hand as if you wanted to crush his bones. But as you slowly move around the ice, led by him, you finally get more and more familiar with the feeling of sliding on the ice. 
“See? It’s not that bad,” he smiles when you stop for a short break after circling back to the pier. 
“I still fear for my life, but it’s bearable now,” you nod and he just chuckles.
It looks good on him. His smile is warm and welcoming, it’s a shame it took you so long to see it. You definitely prefer this version of him. 
“Honey, it’s so lovely to see you on the ice!” Anne slides over to you with ease, holding a cup of something warm, probably hot chocolate. 
“Well, it’s not quite my element,” you let out an awkward chuckle.
“You’re doing just fine. Besides, you just snatched up the best skater in town.” Winking, she bumps her hip against Harry’s. Your puzzled look urges her to elaborate. “Harry took over coaching the boys’ hockey team last year, the kids adore him!”
Instantly, you imagine Harry dealing with a bunch of cute kids, cheering on them, teaching them, making them laugh… The image is actually moving something inside you that’s been buried somewhere deep for a while now.
“Y/N, how are things coming together? Everyone is buzzing for the big opening!” Anne does a little dance that makes you laugh, but at the same time, something changes in Harry. 
“Um, it’s going okay. Not how I planned, but I’ll manage.”
“I’m sure everything will fall into place perfectly. And if you need any help just let us know!” She turns to Harry, looking for validation that he is open to lending you a helping hand as well, but his reaction is not quite what she was expecting, probably. 
“Sorry, I gotta go now,” Harry mumbles quickly, his gaze obviously avoiding you or his mother and he skates away so fast you just blink after him. 
“What’s gotten into this boy?” Anne huffs, but she lets go of it fast, starts chatting about something you don’t quite catch, because you just stare after Harry, watching him slalom between the skaters so fast it’s almost aggressive. 
And once again, you feel like you’re back where you began. He hates you and you have no idea what you did against him. 
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Theoretically, opening Nana’s two weeks before Christmas was a great idea, because you imagined all the baked goods people would order for the holidays, you knew it would be a great kick start.
Realistically, it means that now you have to do the last touch ups in the harsh winter that’s as cold as the North Pole. Or at least that’s how you imagine the North Pole.
It’s been non stop snowing for the past three days, the fresh, soft looking snow is now covering every bit of Eroda’s breathtaking view and though it’s very festive and nice to look at it from a warm room with something hot to drink, it’s not as relaxing when you’re still working on the bakery, doing the last bits of decorating and starting the first batches of baked goods, because in 24 hours, Nana’s is officially opening its front door to the public. 
You’ve been here since five in the morning, now it’s four in the afternoon but it’s almost entirely pitch dark outside so it feels like it’s nearing ten. The place is not a mess anymore, but the kitchen is, there’s all kinds of dough everywhere, you’re doing everything you can now so there’s less tomorrow, but even with all the work tonight you’ll be here at five in the morning again tomorrow. 
It’s been hours since the last time you looked out the window, so it fully goes over your head how heavy the snowfall has gotten lately, chasing home every soul from the streets. While you’re covered in flour and keep muttering Nana’s recipes to make sure everything is measured right, there is one more person out there who is still not home, battling the weather. 
Harry has been going around town all day, helping out the elderly with either delivering groceries, or repairing the heating, whatever they needed a helping hand with. He’s usually the person one calls in Eroda when something needs to be fixed.
The roads are now not quite safe to be driving around, but with his jeep he’ll be able to get home just before it gets too bad. Or so the thought, but that is until he drives by the bakery and sees the lights on.
At first he keeps driving, telling himself it’s not his business. But the farther he gets the guiltier he feels and then he turns the car around.
You’re too busy to hear the knocking at first, but then you hear it again and know it wasn’t just in your head. Rushing out of the kitchen you stop in front of the door, because through the glass you make out Harry standing there, the snow already covering the top of his head as if he’s been out there for hours. 
“It’s freezing out here, Y/N! Would be nice if you let me in!” he shouts through the glass and you finally snap out of your surprise, unlock the door and Harry practically runs inside. 
“What are you doing here?” You watch him shake the snow off of him and finally turn towards you. For a moment you forget about how you parted ways at the skating, how cold he turned out of the blue after helping you. 
“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same thing. There’s a snowstorm out there, you won’t be able to get home if you stay here!”
“Are you kidding me? I’m opening tomorrow, I have a million things to finish!”
“So you’re risking getting snowed in? Were you planning to sleep here or something?”
“Maybe! Yeah! I need to get a ton of dough ready and I still haven’t put up the tinker lights and I need to clean up…”
Harry stares at you with such a vivid look, you expect him to start screaming at you or something. But he just keeps staring until he finally breaks.
“Okay, where are the lights and where do you want them?”
“What?”
“You’ll spend the night here if you do everything alone. I’ll help and hopefully we’ll be able to leave when it’s all done.”
Now it’s your turn to stare at him as he is looking around, searching for the lights to start working, but you can’t really believe he is about to help you out when he could be home by now. On the other hand, you could really use the help and maybe finish earlier than midnight, so after pushing your surprise to the side you start instructing him. While Harry works on the lights, you return to the kitchen. 
To test out the dough for the croissants, the one thing you’re the most nervous about because it used to be Nana’s specialty, you decide to make a few and pop them in the oven while you do everything else. 
It’s hard to believe you’re finally at this point, so close to the opening, turning your biggest dream into reality. You wish Nana would be here with you today.
“Lights are done.”
Harry interrupts your thoughts and you wipe your floury hands into your apron before following him out of the kitchen to see the work he did.
“Oh my God, this looks perfect!” you gasp, seeing all the tinker lights run along the ceiling and walls, lighting up the place like magic. 
Harry just nods, pressing his lips together, as if it was nothing. 
“Anything else?” he asks.
“Yeah, I have a few pictures I want to hang up and then it’s all done–” The timer in the kitchen goes off, letting you know the croissants are done. “Let me take them out and then I’ll show you where I want them.”
You rush back to the kitchen and take the fresh, steaming croissants out of the oven, completely missing that Harry has followed you and he is now watching you curiously as you take the baked goods off the tray one by one.
“That smells like…” he speaks up, but the words die on his tongue and you just smile, placing one onto a plate, holding it out for him.
“Here, try it.”
He hesitates, but takes the plate at last. Though it’s still hot and he should definitely wait a bit, it’s hard to resist, you know that. You watch him take a tentative bite and wait for his reaction as if he is about to tell you your future. 
“So? How is it?”
“It’s… it’s really… good. Really good.”
It’s obvious he is having a hard time admitting you did something right, but his face says it all. You just don’t understand why he looks kind of puzzled, but you think it’s just because he didn’t expect it to be this good. 
“I bet the croissants will be the bestsellers,” you chuckle as Harry takes bite after bite until it’s all gone. He devoured it so fast it’s incredible. You couldn’t help but focus on his pink lips while he ate and those tiny sounds he let slip… they surely planted some thoughts into your head, thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of when it comes to Harry.
“Come on, I’ll show you the pictures.” It’s your attempt to clear your mind.
You walk out and grab the box that holds all the framed pictures you want to hang on the walls, of course, all of them feature Nana. 
“Okay, so I thought a few could go over here, and then on that wall as well, and these, I want them behind the counter…” You start explaining your vision, but when you turn around you see that he is staring at a photo in shock. “Harry? What’s wrong?”
You step closer and see that it’s the photo that was taken on your tenth birthday. You’re holding up one of the cupcakes Nana made just for you and she is standing behind you, with her hands on your shoulders. It’s a fond memory, one of your favorite birthdays you ever had. 
“Oh, is it the dungarees?” you ask, pointing at your outfit. “I wasn’t quite the fashion icon back then,” you chuckle.
“No, it’s– who’s this?” he asks, pointing at Nana. You give him a puzzled look, because it’s not rocket science to figure out who the woman in the picture is.
“That’s Nana, obviously.”
“But as in… your grandma?” He finally looks up at you and his face is frantic, as if he is solving a lifelong mystery. 
“Of course, Harry, what is goin–”
“Y/N, Nana was your grandma?”
“Yes!” you laugh in confusion. “Of course she was, that’s why I’m opening a bakery under her name with all her recipes she taught me!”
You can’t read the look on Harry’s face as he puts the photo back into the box and then starts walking around with his hands on his hips. 
“Why do you look like you just learned you were adopted or something?”
“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“That you’re… Nana’s granddaughter. I had no clue.” He runs a hand through his hair and you try your best not to stare at how his bicep flexes in the movement. 
“What? Harry, why else would I be opening a bakery, named Nana’s right here, out of every possible place on Earth?”
“I don’t know!” he admits, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s why I… Okay, this is why I hated the idea so much. Because I knew Nana, I loved her! She was like… my grandma too! And I thought you just chose this name for fun!”
“Are you kidding me?” you huff in disbelief.
“I felt like you were ruining her memory, that’s why I was so against this place. I had zero clue that you are actually… related to her.”
“Oh my God, Harry!” There’s nothing else you can do other than just… laughing. This whole situation feels oddly comical, like something that only happens in movies. 
“I know, I’m sorry!” He exhales sharply and you truly see the regret on his face. “I was such a dick.”
“Yes you were!” you laugh in agreement. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“Well, now at least I know why you were my biggest hater all along.”
“Not anymore!” He holds up his hands and finally breaks a smile that looks so fucking handsome, it makes you forget about everything in a second. 
Turning to the side he stares out the window for a moment before looking back at you.
“The snowing has stopped, let’s wrap things up and go home, alright? Big day tomorrow.”
You both go back to work, Harry finishes quite fast with the pictures so then he helps you clean up in the kitchen and you notice how obviously different the vibes are now. There’s no trace of his usual hostile behavior, in fact he is so open as he asks you about Nana and how the idea of the bakery came. Then he tells you about her as well, how he has known him for so long and after the passing of his stepdad Nana helped him through the toughest time of his life. You’re surprised the two of you never met when you were visiting, but you believe in faith and it must be because it wasn’t the right time. 
It’s almost ten by the time you’re locking up while Harry is scraping the snow off his jeep. It’s rather eerie to see the town so empty, but it’s also pretty, the untouched snow covering every inch of the scenery. 
“Thanks for the help. And the drive home,” you say when he has parked in front of your house. 
“I’ll pick you up in the morning as well.”
“What? There’s no need, Harry–”
“Just accept the help,” he flashes you a crooked smile. “I have a lot to make up for.”
“What if I say you’re forgiven?”
“Then I’ll do it because I want to spend time with you.”
His answer comes so fast and honest, you can’t mask the surprise on your face as you stare at each other in the dark car.
“Um, alright then. See you in the morning.”
“Good night. Y/N.”
You fumble with the belt and then climb out of the car, still feeling kind of giddy from his words. He waits for you to get to the front door and you wave at him before walking in. Through the closed door you hear the engine roar and he drives away, leaving you with quite a lot to digest.
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Never in a million years did you imagine the opening of Nana’s to be like this. The small bakery is full to the brim, there are people everywhere, you haven’t stopped thanking everyone for the love and support and your heart leaps in your chest every time you hear someone talk about your beloved grandma. All the pastries are selling well, but as expected, the croissants are the biggest hit. 
But it’s not just the opening that has you smiling ear to ear.
Harry did show up early in the morning and he’s been helping you out all day as if he was getting paid for his work. In the kitchen, at the counter or by the tables, he’s been a one person army and your hero. You couldn’t have done it without him. 
You have just a couple of seconds to breathe between two customers and you peek over the crowd, spotting him right away by the table his mom and her friends occupy. He just made them laugh and he’s basking in their attention as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing his tattooed arms. 
Fuck, he looks so good, it’s criminal. 
Now that he is not an asshole to you anymore, it’s pretty hard not to notice everything you’ve been trying to ignore about him. His charming dimples, his bouncy curls, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, how his nose moves when he talks, they was his hips sway when he’s walking… there is not one inch on the man you can critique.
The situation would be a lot worse if it was one-sided, but it appears that Harry is just as keen on being around you, always touching your lower back when he walks behind you, or brushing your arm to get your attention. 
“I’m seriously writing you a paycheck when it’s over,” you tell him when he returns behind the counter grabbing some cinnamon rolls to bring to the ladies by the window.
“I thought that we were already over this, Y/N,” he smirks and you bite into your bottom lip as you turn back to the customer in front of you. 
It kind of goes by in a blur, there’s so much happening, you’re always on the move and before you could even process the events, the day is over and Nana’s is closing for the first time. After the constant crowd, it’s weird to see the place empty again, but seeing that everything has sold, it finally settles in your mind: you did it.
As you turn the sign on the door your eyes slide over to the picture on the right. It was taken in Nana’s kitchen, you were about six or seven, the two of you are photographed from behind as you stand on a stool, next to Nana at the counter while she is teaching you how to make bread. The memory still lives vividly in your mind even though it’s been over two decades.
“She would be so proud of you.”
Turning around you find Harry behind you with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes on the photo at first, then they move to you and your heart skips a beat.
“You think so?”
“I know so,” he chuckles.
“So, I was serious. I owe you a paycheck after today.”
He rolls his eyes before arching an eyebrow at you.
“And I was serious when I said I don’t want anything in return.”
“You’ve been here since six, Harry!” you huff out a laugh. “I would feel so bad if you just went home without anything.”
He stares at you for long moments and you start to think he’ll just let you suffer with your guilt, but then he speaks up.
“Go on a date with me then.”
You suck on your breath as your eyes lock with his.
“What?” you whisper.
“Go on a date with me, Y/N. Will you?”
“I-If you’re still trying to make up for–” you start, but he cuts you off.
“I’m not. I told you, I want to spend time with you.”
You blink at him once, twice, as if you’re waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he stands his ground with a serious look.
“Are you gonna leave me hanging?” he smirks, snapping you out of your haze.
“Yes–I mean, yes to the date!” you shake your head, clearing up your answer.
“I was afraid you hated me too much to give me a chance,” he breathes out a shaky laugh.
“I never hated you, I was just confused. You were the one who hated me.”
“I couldn’t hate you, Y/N. And believe me, I tried.” You both laugh at his words. “I was frustrated, because I wanted to hate you and this place so badly, but still… I was drawn to you.”
“You were?” you ask, your voice barely more than just a whisper.
“You have no idea how much,” he admits with a soft smile, stepping closer to you. “When we were skating, I totally forgot about everything and just wanted to hold your hand and help you. It was like a slap across my face when mum brought the opening up and I remembered I was supposed to hate you,” he admits with a chuckle and e inches even closer. “I’m glad I don’t have to try to hate you anymore.”
“I’m glad too.”
He is right in front of you, his face only inches away from yours and you suck on your breath when he reaches up and takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, angling your head further up so your lips are now perfectly lined up with his.
His eyes move down to your mouth, then up to meet your gaze and even without words you know he is asking for your permission to kiss you. You push closer and he is quick to close the distance and press his lips against yours.
You’d be lying if you said you never imagined what it would be like to kiss Harry. Because you did, several times. But nothing compares to having him wrapped around you, his lips so soft yet rough against yours at the same time as he kisses you over and over again while you’re fisting the collar of his shirt so tight your fingers are turning white. 
Maybe you kiss for hours, or maybe it’s just minutes, you have no clue, but when he finally pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, you just know your life is about to turn upside down.
“Changed my mind,” he speaks up at last.
“Huh?”
“About the payment.”
His words sink in slowly and your eyebrows rise.
“Oh.” Harry laughs at your reaction.
“I want my payment in kisses,” he then says with the cheesiest smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.
“That could be arranged,” you breathe out when you finally get what he was talking about and grabbing the back of his neck you pull him in for another one. 
And another one.
And some more.
And just like that Nana somehow brought another wonderful thing into your life, even though she is not here anymore.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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luveline · 2 months
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May I request a roan & eddie & r's first outing after the wedding and roan is so happy she tells everyone "this is my mom"?
dad!eddie x (step)mom!reader —breakfast on the family moon
The sun is high in the sky that afternoon, and every breeze smells of salt and fresh flowers. Eddie turns his head one way and sees a field of lush green grass, turns it the other and finds himself looking out over the white stone monolith of the family hotel where you’re staying. 
Roan climbs up onto the solid wooden table next to empty plates smeared with syrup and melted chocolate, vying for a last strawberry as big as her hand. “You want that one, bub?” he asks. 
“Can I have it?” 
He bites off the stem. He’s not sure if that’s disgusting, but you’ve married him now, no take-backsies, and you aren’t here to see anyhow. He spits the green into a napkin and offers the fruit to his waiting daughter. “Okay?” 
“Thank you,” she says, catching it in her teeth. “All the fruits are so yummy here.” 
“Don’t talk with your mouthful, baby,” Eddie says. 
She shrugs, pulling her knees up. They’re red from crawling along the wooden table but unscathed, stark against the pale fabric of her dress’ skirt. 
“Look,” he says, pointing at the waiter standing near the restaurant's big patio doors, “the waiter’s gonna see you climbing all over the table and getting your spit on me.” 
Roan turns to look. Her behaviour remains unchanged. “Where’s mommy?” 
Eddie drags her backwards off of the wood and into his lap. He kisses her cheek, her forehead, hoping to imbue the intensity of what he’s feeling on to her —he’s never been this content in his life. He’s married you, and marriage is a piece of paper and all his heroes would laugh in his face but would they? Because what’s better than finding your person, and loving them, and getting to be loved back? “She’s getting another plate for you and your good appetite.” 
Roan’s been just as thrilled since the wedding. She cried a little on the plane from the changing pressure, but before and after that she’s been a vestibule of joy. She turns into his kissing to cuddle him by the neck, her arms around him and her hair tickling his throat. “Mommy said we can try surfing today.” 
“I know! Do you think you’re ready to surf? We got you that wetsuit, all we need is a boogie board.” 
“A what?” 
“It’s like a surfboard, but not so big,” he explains, stroking her curls back from her face absentminded, eyes scanning inside of the hotel restaurant for a hint of your pale dress. 
“I want a real surfboard.” 
“Mm, no, babe. You can’t carry a surfboard. It’s okay though, we’re gonna be on boogie boards too.” 
She leans back. “Can we have more breakfast?” 
“Let’s see what Y/N brings back.” 
You’re summoned by his name drop, edging toward the patio doors as you chat to one of the waiters. You’re laughing politely, attempting to point to your two Munson’s but struggling with the plates you carry, one in each hand, while drinks pressed between your arm and chest threaten to spill. The waiter takes one of your plates. 
“Aw, sugar, thank you,” you say, “it’s just there. I’m sorry.” 
“That’s why I’m here,” the waiter says with an easy customer service smile. 
You and the waiter approach and put down the plates and cups. “Hi, baby,” you say, visibly perplexed at Roan’s huge smile. 
“This is my mom,” Roan tells the waiter. 
“And she’s just as beautiful as you are, hun. You are a lucky guy,” he directs his last comment at Eddie. 
“You don’t know the half of it,” Eddie says. 
“We just got married,” you say proudly. 
“But how old are you?” the waiter asks Roan. 
She holds up five fingers, and then a sixth. 
“You were slow,” the waiter says to Eddie. 
“It’s not his fault, we’ve been engaged almost a year,” you say, “and we didn’t know one another until not even three years ago, so–”
Roan doesn’t care about the waiter’s confusion. She reaches for you where she’s sitting in Eddie’s lap, almost tipping onto the floor as she stretches as far as her arms can go. She whines until you take notice. 
“Hi,” you say, cutting yourself off to pick her up. “What, babe?” 
“I love you,” she says. 
You and Eddie laugh. The waiter makes a sound of understanding. “She looks like dad because you are the stepmom,” he says. 
“Just mom,” you say, giving her a little kiss. “She really does look like her dad though, huh? Except he’s not covered in chocolate.” 
“We can arrange that.” 
You laugh against Roan’s cheek, “I love you,” you say, just for her, “I got you a bowlful of strawberries, your skin is gonna turn pink ‘cos you’ve eaten so many. Love you.” 
Roan closes her eyes. She’s been smothered in love for a week straight and there’s no signs of it ever stopping. “I love you too. Let’s have melon.” 
“I got some.” 
Eddie nudges you back into your seat. “Alright, quick, we need to eat and sleep it off for an hour before we go surfing. Chop chop.”
“He’s so bossy,” Roan says.
“I know, baby. Don’t listen to him.” 
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irndad · 2 months
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if you’re still doing flower prompts i’d love either Rainflower or Purple Lilac with spencer <3
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a/n: heyyyy im alive! writing from my trip, love you guys, don't know the wc! flower prompts
Rainflower - realizing that you/they love them/you back
It comes on all at once. 
Spencer- he’s never been particularly good at knowing when he’s feeling romantic. There wasn’t any experience with it. He knows that he’s hardly anyone’s dream guy- all awkward gangly limbs, too tall and too full of information that no one wanted to hear.
He’s carved out a little corner of the world that he can be seen in, that he can be loved in- but he’s never really been under the notion that someone could want him. Spencer knows that he’s lucky to have even this- to have people that ignite the prickly and irritating parts of himself and love him despite about this. And while he might fantasize, daydream about a life where he can lace his long fingers with those of someone who sees him only in a loving gaze of joy, Spencer knows that he’s not the kind of person that gets that. He’s being rational about it- most days, he’s able to relegate this desire to be filled with fantasy. 
Except- something has been up lately.
His best friend is probably the best person that he’s ever met in his life. She’s a consultant with the BAU, and it’s been nice to know her, in so many ways. She’s funny and kind in a way that never seems to have a victim. Spencer is not the kind of person that particularly values physical beauty, but she possesses it in such a large margin that it is difficult to ignore. He’s actually distracted by it sometimes, having to take extra mental attention to her words when all he is drawn to is the lovely curve of her Cupid’s bow, and the both light and heavy weight of her gaze in him. I like when you look at me, he thinks. She never makes him feel small. 
When they’d met, he was reluctant to her presence in most regards. Spencer knows that when he is focused, he can be a solitary creature, and that he’s an acquired taste. But she never seemed to need time to acclimate to him. From her first day, she listened to him when he spoke, and god, she squeezed his shoulder when she walked past him. 
She never had to try to like him. He was never a concession to her. 
This morning, she is late to work. He tries not to time it, but he enjoys the ritual of his mornings far more when he’s with her. He makes her tea and greets her first thing, and she asks about his evening the day prior. He tells her about whatever foreign film or Russian book he read the night before, a little too earnestly. She listens with her lovely doe eyes, sipping slowly as she transitions into her day. It doesn’t feel like patience with her- it feels like she actually cares what he has to say. Their routine is a warm radio crackle of familiarity, his favorite part of his day.
But she’s late today.
When she walks in, she’s a little frazzled and  so, so, adorable. She’s in a T-shirt that looks so familiar to him, and a pair of jeans that look lovely on her pretty legs. It’s a pleasure, looking at her. He wish he had more time to do it, wants to leisurely drink in the sight of her like he has all the time in the world, it never feels long enough to look.
Her hair’s frazzled and she’s just about 5 minutes late- Hotch hasn’t even come out of his office yet, but she’s clearly nervous.
“You’re okay,” he hears himself say, as she plunks down her bag on the desk, “I have your tea.” 
He doesn’t expect her to look up, but she does. She looks up at him and beams, and Spencer- his heart swells. She grabs the cup, dainty pretty fingers wrapped around the curve of it, and she beams her so-sweet smile at him, and god, his knees might buckle. Has it always been this way? 
He drinks in the sight of her, as she runs a hand through her hair in a worried, incredibly endearing gesture. She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself. He wonders aimlessly, that she might have been meeting with a man this morning. It might be the explanation for the dishevelment. 
The burning bit in his chest this causes is one that lacks explanation. It hurts in a way that he cannot explain- she is not a realistic dream for him to have. It’s not like he’s never thought about the idea of the two of them together. It’s a fleeting thought, like the consideration if your life if you could fly. It’s not a dream that warrants real consideration. 
But when their fingers brush, her light touch on his hand, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like if she wanted him.
“Thank you, Spence,” she says, warm voice dripping with gratitude and something in his heart warms at the nickname, “You’re my hero.”
She takes a sip of it, and closes her eyes in a contemplative, restful moment. It’s unfairly adorable.
He’s never actually thought about it, until this moment. But her beauty transcends just being pure fact, a thing to note about his reality. It would be nice, Spencer thinks. It hits him like a tidal wave, images of her gorgeous laugh washing over him on a Sunday morning, the curve of her cheek, a world where he can hold her by the dip of her waist, where her ever-present kindness meant that she might, could, maybe, love him.
Love him back.
She has whipped cream on her finger. She took the lid of the drink off to have the whipped cream. 
He is so, so fucked. 
“Have I told you that I love you today, boy-genius?” 
Even though she’s kidding, and he stammers out a reply of acknowledgment, it is in this moment he knows, with the certainty of every empirical journal he has ever read. 
Spence Reid is hopelessly in love with his best friend, and there is absolutely nothing he can do about that. 
It’s still nice to want, though. 
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dixons-sunshine · 1 month
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Daryl Dixon x Mom!Reader With Baby Headcannons
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*GIF isn't mine*
Warnings: None, really.
Word count: 802
A/n: I'm in desperate need for some Scud Frohmeyer or Daryl requests. I have two requests that I'm working on right now but I have no idea where I want to go with them, so they're going to be on hold for now until I get the motivation to write them again. I'm so sorry, but I'm hoping that some new ideas might spark some motivation back into my mind, then I can go back to those stories and give it my all!
★ For Daryl Dixon, there were only three days in his entire life that meant the world to him—the day you became his, the day you told him that you were pregnant and the day your baby was born.
★ When he held his baby for the first time, he definitely teared up a little. The little being in his arms was so tiny but so perfect. He would die to protect his baby.
★ Daryl would have no problems with staying up late to take care of the baby while you slept. In fact, he would insist on it most of the time. He didn't want to be the type of guy who slept while the girl had to always take care of the baby. You and the baby were the most important people to Daryl, and if it meant offering up his sleep to ensure you both were okay and that you, the mother of his child was well rested, so be it.
★ Although Daryl took most of the night shifts with the baby, there were a lot of times when you'd refuse to go back to sleep and stubbornly stay up with him.
★ In those 3am times with the two of you taking care of your bundle of joy is when Daryl would wonder how he managed to get that lucky. Merle had told him once that people like him and Daryl weren't cut out to have families and that even if they did, it would bring them nothing but misery.
★ But there he was, holding both the love of his life and his baby, in his arms, and he was the happiest man in the world.
★ Daryl would be so affectionate with the baby that you wished that you had a video camera to record it.
★ He would tell the baby stories that he could vaguely remember Beth telling Judith back at the prison, and he would tell them in the softest voice ever. There was no doubt that he loved that baby with his whole heart.
★ He would definitely also be extremely affectionate with you. Cuddles, kisses, hugs, you name it. Mainly because he's happy with his little family, but also because he's relieved. He knew the risks of dying while giving birth were there, so to have you alive and well after the birth was a huge relief to him.
★ While the feelings of happiness and love overpower his other emotions most of the time, doubt and fear still creep up from time to time.
★ Daryl feared that something would happen to you and the baby. It was a dangerous world you lived in and anything could happen at any given moment. But Daryl swore to himself that he would die fighting to protect you and your little one.
★ Daryl also doubted sometimes if he was a good father. He never had a good example of one growing up and he feared that he would end up being like his father. But even as those thoughts plagued his mind, one look at his baby and he knew that he would never be able to be that cruel towards his little one. However, the fear still lingered, and it would probably be there forever.
★ You and the baby came first. Always. You thought Daryl was overprotective while you were pregnant? It would be nothing compared to when the baby is born. Everybody knew not to even look at you wrong or they would be food for the walkers.
★ His escapades beyond the walls would decrease significantly. He preferred to be by yours and the baby's sides as much as he could, and nobody would be able to tear him away.
★ Daryl has definitely snuck a picture of you holding the baby in your arms while the both of you were sleeping. He keeps it in his pocket at all times.
★ Daryl would definitely keep the baby in his arms at all times if you ever had to venture beyond the walls.
★ Yours and the baby's safety were his main priority, so he definitely wouldn't let you out of his sight until you're all back inside the walls again.
★ He loves you both with his whole heart, that much anyone could see.
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