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kenntolog · 2 months

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need to know how does cool boyfriend sukuna met loser!gf reader…. and how did sukuna likes her djbekwbsks

𝝑𝝔 an: this is so corny but i hope u like it!! more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here! cw: a lil blood and a minor injury.

i think before meeting loser reader properly, sukuna was like angrier and more intimidating to his surroundings; a constantly irritated expression on his face and ready to curse everyone and everything. these characteristics didn’t seize with the start of your relationship, but they have died down significantly ever since.

so of course, sukuna getting angry about losing a game(yes, him meeting loser reader on the game he lost lol) and the ball in his hand turns into a weapon as he throws it away blindly, not turning around to see what happened even after registering the sound of a loud thud and a round of gasps.

it’s only when uraume, the team’s manager, calls out to him that sukuna’s angry face turns irritated and he rolls his eyes, cursing under his breath, before looking over in their direction.

the view is so unexpected sukuna can barely keep his laughter intact, eyes lazily scanning through the small crowd of people to find you on the previously squeaky clean floor of the court — the victim of his angry fit — with blood gushing out of your nose and face red from crying. it’s such a pitiful sight(he is such a menace) that he just lifts his arms behind his head, locking them in a relaxed manner, and continues staring.

uraume gives him a cold glare, “take her to the nurse’s office.”

the commanding tone of their voice makes him roll his eyes, “tsk. take her yourself.”

“sukuna.”

coach yaga’s voice contains more warning and sukuna groans, holding his hand out for you to take from the fear of being suspended from trainings, which has happened before because of his anger issues.

you look up at him with surprise and gently place your hand in his, not expecting him to tug you up roughly. the walk to the nurse’s is silent, with you occasionally sending shy glances his way while you’re holding a cloth to your nose.

“where the fuck is the nurse?” he asks impatiently, sitting down on the stool while you settle on the examination table.

he doesn’t really care for the answer, but he still hears your meek voice mumbling, “it’s her break time.”

sukuna is too restless to just sit there and wait for the nurse to come back. he shoots up from his spot, looking around for something before he steps closer to the table you’re seated on. the way your eyes widen, body instinctively moving back to avoid his space makes the corners of his lips curl upwards in a satisfied smirk. he makes a point of standing between your knees.

he tugs the bloody cloth out of your hands, ignoring your little ‘hey!’, and cups your jaw a little too roughly, angling your head a bit higher to inspect your nose.

for a totally bleak loser you have a pretty face, he notes in his head, a sight for sore eyes. eyes looking up at his like he’s from the outer world, a little scared and maybe even mesmerised, lips parted slightly with one side covered in dried blood, hair disheveled and eyes still a bit watery. his interest was piqued maybe a just a little.

sukuna tilts your head forward and pinches the soft part of your nose between his thumb and index finger. you hiss in pain, hands flying up to grip his wrist, which makes him roll his eyes.

“tsk, what a crybaby.”

you pout at him, a small whimper escaping you as he continues scanning your face intensely. you mutter something under your breath, looking away from him.

“… didn’t hit me with a ball—”

“what did you say?”

“nothing!”

his grip on your nose tightens and you whine.

“oww~” you pull away from him, hiding your nose from him with a wary look before you quietly confess, “i said if you didn’t hit me with your ball then i wouldn’t be crying, y’know.”

“i didn’t hit you with my ball.”

“eh? you totally did though…”

“i threw my ball and you just fell under it. your fault, loser.”

you stare at him in bewilderment and sukuna doesn’t hide his great amusement. he steps away, lazily looking through cabins; he finds wet wipes and a pack of bandaids. throwing them at you without looking he once again stands in front of you, watching the way you messily wipe the blood from your face.

but he hates when things aren’t neat so he takes the pack of wet wipes from your lap, pulling out one, and cleans the blood where you missed, his free hand on top of your head. he throws it somewhere behind himself and takes the pack of bandaids, picking out the ugliest one in his opinion to plaster it over the little bruise on the side of your nose.

you say ‘thank you’ with a small bow and stumble out of the nurse’s office, tripping over your own feet, while he just stares at you indifferently.

you bake him little cupcakes, as a sign of your gratitude, not knowing that he isn’t that fond of sweet treats. sukuna still eats them, begrudgingly enjoying their taste.

though he can’t deny that he is amused by you. and that’s how it started, you know, sukuna just being amused with the way you get flustered when making eye contact in the hallways and lecture halls, the way you still always shyly wave at him in greeting, eyes shining a bit brighter when he gives you a little smirk or a nod.

you’re such a loser, sukuna thinks, always so shy around him but also ready to do anything he says. so at first, of course, he thinks of using that obedience for his own benefit, but soon those thoughts leave his mind when sukuna realise how sincere and interesting you are once you really get into the conversation.

what first starts as little jabs(i would say bullying) from him and you getting frustrated with every teasing and insulting word he throws in your address, soon enough transforms into something more; sukuna’s interest only rising along with the adoration that builds up inside his usually unresponsive heart.

#— miya writes!#sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader

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kpopnstarwars · 2 months

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Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: ty taylor swift i attempted to base this fic on your song but then i divulged as normal

tw: 18+, smut, p in v, inkpie, oral (both recieving), sub feyd by which i mean feyd is DOMMED, spit, degradation + praise, one spank kinda, swearing, lil bit of crying, mention of evil baron activities so sa + pedophilia, tiny mention of cheating but none actually happens, lmk if there's anything else bc lbr there probably is i just forgot it

wc: 3.9k

Feyd-Rautha has gravely underestimated you.

It is true that you are not strong in terms of Harkonnen definitions, but you expected a man destined to father the Kwisatz Haderach to be able to see past that. What was that the Bene Gesserit were saying about superior genetics? You don’t see even a glimpse of that in his frosty gaze when he regards you - he looks at you as if you’re a delicate vase that may shatter in the lightest of breezes. He thinks he needs to fear breaking you.

He misses how you miss nothing.

You are not Bene Gesserit; you are merely one of their pawns, a genetic machination produced from centuries of manipulations and deceptions, but you can read a man better than the majority of their number.

The seething jealousy in the clenching off Glossu Rabban’s fists is like a monster sinking its venom laced fangs into his heart: starkly evident to you - as evident as the barely repressed, parasitic fear of inadequacy that lurks like a second beast within the first. Just the same, the gazes the Baron sends your husband do not escape you. Nor does the caged, wild look that washes over him whenever you leave his uncle’s chambers: the look of a man who inside is still a boy, relief washing over him that he has left unscathed and untouched for another time.

Even more nuanced than that, you see the vulnerability within Feyd-Rautha. He craves to be loved, the way he should have been as a child, when instead he was desired; all this at an age where the most he should have been doing was playing with carved wooden toys at his parent’s feet.

He believes no one can see the last, soft sliver of his heart that he’s fought to preserve, that wants nothing but to have someone to be vulnerable with, just because he’s buried it so deep inside of him that sometimes even he doesn’t think it’s there any more.

But you see it.

You see beneath it too, to a place that he himself is not fully aware of. A place where he hates who he has become - a wild, savage creature, bleeding from wounds that do not seem to close up, slipping in its own blood when no one can see.

It’s from here, from this place, that the urge to preserve you somehow originates. He thinks you are a flower whose petals will easily be crushed in his heavy, calloused hands, and he is wrong; in a strange way it endears you to him, that he believes that he is too rough to hold you. You do not think it is quite love - not yet, at least, it is only the third month of your marriage - but when you see him fighting to not be the beast that he is before you in an effort to spare you, something that is not just pity stirs in your heart.

You can hear him now, pacing, cursing under his breath in the antechambers. Sometimes he sleeps there, on the narrow sofa, and you’ve come to realise it is those nights when he wants you most. Aside from your wedding night, he has made no other attempts to produce an heir, and you find his restraint valiant, but stupid.

He could try as hard as he liked; he would not get anywhere close to breaking you.

Rising from your seat on the small, ornate stool at the vanity, you push open the door to the antechamber and take a step into the room. Feyd pauses his pacing with his back to you, and you can see the tension in his shoulders and the rigid way he holds his body before he turns around to face you. His pupils are dilated, his eyes dark, and you watch him regard you with something too untethered to be restraint.

‘Am I keeping you awake, wife?’

You shake your head. ‘I had not retired yet.’

You know he expects you to explain why you’ve interrupted him, but you remain quiet - your silence is as much of a tool as your words. He doesn’t speak either, but his eyes tell you enough; they do not leave your frame, hungry, torrid, and his fingers twitch as if they ache to slip you out of the simple shift you wear to sleep and touch you everywhere, to explore the curves and dips of your body.

Tilting your head, you smirk. ‘If you wish to give me your heirs, husband, I would advise another method that differs from staring one into me.’

‘You don’t know what I want,’ he growls, but his face tells other tales.

Stepping forward, you reach out to him but he backs away. Still, the sheer thirst in his eyes sears away at you, even as his actions fight against it, his fingers closing on the doorknob. His hands are steady, his shoulders too, but the tightness in his muscles betrays him as always. Usually, you’d let him go now, but tonight you wish to see how far he will let you push him before he pushes back, so you snare his forearm in your fingers, tugging at him as he turns the knob.

He doesn’t look at you. ‘Don’t test me.’

You smile, cloyingly so. ‘Why not?’

Lightly, you trace your fingers down his chest, straightening the fabric of his black shirt while you gaze thoughtfully up at him through your lashes, lips curving upwards at the indecision in his eyes. He fights it, wrestles with the burning need, but in the end, he prevails, transforming it into a streak of anger that colours his voice as he tears himself from your grasp, recoiling as if your touch ignites pain within him - and maybe it is pain, that he wants you so but fears to indulge himself.

‘Get away from me.’

Feyd-Rautha does not give you a second to do so, because he is the one haring down the dimly lit corridor, his jaw tight, nails digging into his palms. Truthfully, you have never seen him move that fast, not even in the arena, and it almost makes you laugh - the great na-Baron fleeing from his wife and his own lecherous thoughts.

Maybe you did not win this round of tug of war, but he has asked something of you - to get away from him. Over the next few weeks, you follow this to the letter, avoiding him like the plague; you do not interrupt his pacing in the antechambers, nor do you haunt the bedroom like you normally do, asking him questions that he cannot answer. Feyd-Rautha is sensitive to change and you know he will seek the reason for it.

There is a barely cloaked intensity in his eyes when he finally corners you, and under it, you detect recognition: he sees that you are not who he thought you were, and he sees that you are not so different from him - always observing, always planning, and so, mind shatteringly hungry.

You were just dropping by the bed chambers to gather some of your clothes. The night before, you’d relocated yourself to one of the guest bedrooms - you could sense Feyd’s resolve cracking, and you knew that this would break it for certain: coming into his chambers to find them empty, wifeless, your side of the bed damningly cold. Jealousy is clear in his eyes as he backs you against the vanity, filling you with a rising sense of triumph.

‘What has caused this change in your behaviour, wife?’

You raise a brow, faking confusion. ‘What change? I would argue it is your behaviour that has changed, Feyd, you who can barely stand to be in a room alone with me.’

He snarls. ‘Who were you with last night?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get away from you,’ you reply, keeping up your pretence a little longer. ‘I slept in the guest quarters. You do not reciprocate any of my advances.’

‘Advances?’ He echoes, incredulous. ‘You taunt me, wife. It’s like you want me to break you.’

Cocking your head, you regard him coolly for a moment, letting some of the sharpness of your unmasked gaze leak through, letting him see the calculation in your eyes - you see the wariness it incites in him as he realises again that you are not who he thinks you are. Wordless, you lean in close to him, bringing your face to his, hovering there.

And then you let your arm drop and make a swipe for the knife at his belt.

Fast as a viper, he catches your wrist in your fingers, but you smile, challenge in your eyes as you bring his second blade to his neck. You’d slipped it out while he was distracted with your other hand, and he blinks at the cold press of it to his skin.

‘That’s the problem, isn’t it?’ You murmur. ‘You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of breaking me. Who’s afraid of little old me, huh? No one is, Feyd.’

‘They should be,’ he whispers, and when you meet his gaze, it sets you alight.

‘Indeed,’ you reply softly, letting your lower lip brush his.

As he kisses you, his hands seizing your face and locking you to him, you hook his knife’s blade in the collar of his shirt and drag it down, slicing the fabric until it flutters to the floor. Pulling away, you take him in - the moonlight planes of his sculpted chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his roiling, keen gaze. This man whets your appetite in the darkest kinds of ways: you cannot wait to ruin him.

Absently, you trace the outline of the tent in his pants with the tip of the knife blade. A breathy noise leaves him, and he freezes as if he can feel the cold kiss of the metal against his skin; you laugh, delighted that he is so mouldable in your hands.

‘Get on your knees,’ you command, seating yourself on the end of the bed.

It’s captivating, his lack of hesitation as he follows your orders. He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, and you can tell that he’s letting you see him like this, you can tell that if he didn’t want you to have him like this, you wouldn’t, but still, you reach out, gently skimming his shoulder with your fingertips.

‘All you have to do is say, and I will stop,’ you say.

He dips his chin. ‘I do not think I’ll have to.’

You smirk, something savage and powerful and thrillingly depraved rearing its head inside you, awakened by the sight of the na-Baron kneeling at your feet. That will be his last coherent sentence tonight.

Pausing, making him wait, you lean down a little, inspecting his features, the ardour in his eyes. He looks at you as if you hold the universe in your hands, as if you hung the stars in his sky, as if you are a goddess, and he wants nothing but to worship you until he is expended.

You spit on him.

It lands on his cheek, and his eyes widen a fraction. A shudder wracks his body, and he simply stares up at you, breathing heavy, before slowly, his lips part, and he sticks out his tongue, his request evident. You grab his jaw, squeezing so that he opens up wider, and spit in his mouth - the low groan that leaves him as he swallows is fucking delectable.

His cock twitches in his pants when you pick up the knife. Tracing the blade over the shell of his ear, over his cheekbone and over his lips, you marvel at the way he holds still, awaiting what you’ll inflict on him next like a good little toy.

When the metal reaches his jaw, you nick the skin, drinking up his sharp intake of breath and the clench of his fists as the blood trickles down the column of his throat; you catch the droplet of crimson on your tongue, licking a careful stripe up his neck, grinning when you catch his lips in a kiss and he trembles at the taste of his own blood. Feyd is greedy, his tongue brushing against yours as he leans up into your touch, the way his mouth works against yours hot, fervent, pleading.

Planting a palm to his sternum, you push him back, chuckling when he strains to follow you, eyes glazed, lips swollen. You spot a streak of red and swipe your thumb over his lower lip, wiping it off before standing.

‘Get up, strip, and get on the bed,’ you bid him, pulling your own shift over your head.

Feyd scrambles to follow your orders, yanking his pants down, and you take your time to admire his muscle sheathed body; strength ripples beneath his skin, a sweet dichotomy to his weeping cock, rock hard and flushed rosy. He halts his movements, as if he’s pinned down by your appraising gaze.

‘For whom do you wait, husband?’

As he turns to get onto the bed, he’s a little too slow and you swat at his ass. A choked sound leaves him, and you laugh at the way his knees almost buckle. Feyd’s ears run red when he lies down on the mattress, and you straddle his thighs, sneering at the way he twists his fingers in the sheets, squirming beneath you.

‘Pathetic.’

You don’t give him time to respond, instead wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping up and down fast, and he gasps at your rough touch, his back arching and his hands coming up to touch you - you wave them off you, meeting his eyes.

‘No touching,’ you intone, the hint of warning in your voice enough to render him obedient.

This time, you take his cock head in your mouth. He’s so fucking sensitive, reacting as if the sweep of your thumb down the underside of him and the slide of your tongue over him is mind shattering; it doesn’t take you long to get him teetering at the edge of his orgasm, just for you to pull away at the last moment.

His thigh jolts, weak pleas of your name leaving his lips, gripping the sheets so hard you wonder if they’ll rip. Again, you take him in your mouth, deeper, one hand dipping to play with his balls; you revel in the wretched sound that he makes when you hollow your cheeks around him, your teeth grazing up his length. You toy with him until you think he’s moments from breaking, until he’s writhing upon the sheets, face contorted in pleasure loaded with sweet, sweet agony.

‘Please let me come,’ he whimpers, voice cracking, the look in his eyes crazed, pitiful. ‘Please.’

You decide to give it to him, jerking him brutally fast until he comes; it hits him like a tidal wave - his eyes roll back in his skull, his body tensing, rigid and impossibly taut before he goes boneless, a broken cry of your name on his lips as he spills all over his stomach. A single, ecstatic tear slides down his cheek as his orgasm seizes him, snatching him up and shaking him like a ragdoll.

Lingering at his side, you wait until he’s come down from his high before getting up to retrieve a damp cloth from the bathroom, perching on the bed beside him and cleaning up his come, pressing kisses to the surprisingly soft skin of his hips. One wavering hand comes to rest in your hair, and you glance up at him, biting back a smug grin at the dazed look in his eyes.

‘Feeling okay?’

He nods.

‘Words,’ you chide.

‘Y - yes, na-Baroness. Better than okay.’

You raise a brow at that. You did not specify for him to call you anything, so this is all his doing; he fidgets beneath your gaze, and you note that he’s growing hard again, his cock stiffening between his thighs.

‘Can I…’ He begins, but trails off, thinking better of it.

‘No, little na-Baron,’ you reply coyly. ‘Tell me what you desire.’

His eyes scorch you with their yearning. ‘I want to taste you, na-Baroness.’

You smile. ‘As you wish.’

You lean back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open for him. It’s somewhat comical, the way his eyes widen as he sees your slick cunt, and he swallows harshly - you can almost sense his mouth watering. Carefully, reverently, almost, he nudges your knees over his wide shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy, admiring you. It’s as if he’s testing himself, waiting to see how long it takes for him to break and taste you.

Lurching forward, Feyd groans, low and deep and right against your clit when he laps at your heat, quickly becoming insatiable as his tongue moves masterfully at the apex of your legs, laving over your clit and curving in and out of you. Bolts of pleasure spear through your body, fierce like crackling lightning at the eye of a storm - he is everything to you in this moment. He shatters you, breaking you and mending you anew.

As he brings you closer, your body begins to shake and your legs close around his head; you suffocate him with your thighs, and you can tell he lives for it from the way he fervently grips your ass in his large hands, kneading the flesh and moaning into your pussy.

Something pulls tight within you, deliciously so, and you cry his name in warning, fingers curling around the base of his neck to hold him still as your hips buck, rutting into his face. Dimly, you can see him grinding into the mattress as you fuck yourself on his tongue - the chafe of his nose against your clit makes you shatter, and you fall apart for him with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders.

You’re still coming down from it when Feyd begins to lap at you again, dutifully cleaning you up, and you twitch with the slight overstimulation, hooking a finger under his chin to see his eyes: his gaze is loaded with the heat of a thousand suns, and yet somehow it is also bleary, drunk. A laugh escapes you, and you tug at his hand, encouraging him to lie beside you.

‘Good boy,’ you hum as he nuzzles into your touch. You can feel him achingly hard against your thigh, and you let yourself catch your breath before reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘Want to fuck me now, hm?’

He nods avidly. ‘Yes, na-Baroness.’

All it takes is for you to half spread your legs before he’s climbing eagerly between them, hesitating before looking up at you for permission. You dip your chin, smirking, and then he’s sinking into you, burying himself inside you.

Voice cracking, Feyd chokes out your name, and he shudders, gasping at the velvet vice of your cunt as it clenches, bearing down on him. Sharply, you rock your hips up to meet his, and this time, a soft, keening whine leaves him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip.

He can barely keep himself from spilling inside you.

‘You can barely hold it, can’t you, my little na-Baron?’

His words come out jumbled, his speech scrambled, mind ground to a standstill by the all consuming heat of your cunt; he babbles out protests, saying that he can, desperate to prove he can, stammering that he wants to make you feel good.

Cruelly, you buck your hips up against his again, and a pained sound looses from his chest, but he thrusts to meet you, hips lurching forward, his arms almost buckling either side of your head. Panting, he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, unable to stifle the whimper that tears from the back of his throat when you rake your nails down his shoulder blades, claiming him, littering his shoulders and neck with bites.

‘That’s it,’ you sigh as he finds his pace. ‘Just like that, good boy.’

A strangled noise tears itself from him at your praise, and he fucks into you, frantic, almost feral. Eventually, his thrusts begin to turn sloppy, and you kiss him in order to steal his breath and taste his fervid moans of your name on your tongue as he comes deep inside you.

Pressing a palm to his lower back, you pin him there, buried snugly within your pussy as you reach down with your other hand and rub your clit hard - it takes but a moment for you to come, and he writhes at the cataclysmic feel of your walls fluttering around him, overstimulating him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he comes again with your cunt milking his cock.

Completely spent, Feyd goes limp, and you rub your hand over his back, smoothing circles on his skin with your lips to his forehead. The post orgasm clarity begins to hit him, and you feel him go rigid - slowly, he pulls out, his seed leaking out now that he’s not filling you, and he attempts to get up, but his legs are too weak and he collapses beside you instead, his chest heaving, his eyes still a little hazy, still fucked out, even as he fights for lucidity.

There’s something on his face that cuts at your heart - a look of expectancy, as if he’s waiting for you to get up and leave now that you’ve had your fill of him. Concerned, you reach out, and he leans away from your touch.

‘Feyd,’ you murmur. ‘It was not too much, was it?’

‘N - no,’ he replies. ‘I just…’

Sitting up slowly, you look him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered, but you press a finger to his lips, foregoing your own fumbling words to instead recite the pledge of allegiance of a Harkonnen soldier to their general; his eyes widen - you know you have hit home. You’d exchanged wedding vows, of course, but these have a different meaning: you see it in the respectful way it is uttered, a soldier acknowledging his superior’s presence.

You pledge to him not only your heart, but your sword - your service - too.

‘Wife,’ Feyd bites out. ‘Surely you do not mean - ’

‘I mean it,’ you cut in. ‘Every word.’

Again, you reach for him, and this time he does not flinch away, letting you tuck him close to you, his breath coming out shaky. Gently, you tip up his chin, planting a chaste kiss on his parted lips, and he returns it slowly, wondrously, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle brush of his mouth against yours: the innocence of it is bittersweet - has anyone ever kissed him this tenderly?

Carefully, you withdraw, wanting to see him, but he does not let you meet his eyes, instead hiding his face in your neck, his lips at the hollow of your throat. You grant him the privacy of not being seen when you feel wetness on your skin, his hot tears tracking down and pooling in your collarbone - his hands ball at his sides, and you pry open his fingers and lace yours with his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tightly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him with a hand cupping the back of his head, cradling him to your chest.

Your voice is quiet in the still air, but it carries as if through an arena, a promise arcing through the air like a soaring arrow.

‘You no longer walk this world alone, Feyd-Rautha.’

best believe when i started writing this i did not anticipate the 2x 'good boy's 🧍

dune taglist: @callumsgirl @oh-you-mean-me @insufferablyunbearable

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wyniepooh · 6 months

Text

Snow

snow rarely falls in district twelve. but when it does, it always takes something, or someone away with him.

peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district!reader. reader meets snow at the hob in district twelve. Written with blonde buzzcut white tee blue uniform and dog tag in mind ofc. In which reader peaks an unhinged corio’s interest post lucy gray… whether it’s a pure or toxic interest is up to u babe (but it’s meant to be a lil toxic okay).

“You can’t be here if you’re not gonna dance. Or drink.”

A flash of blonde swished towards you, so bright it seemed to reflect even under the dim light.

“excuse me?”

You chuckled as you stepped into the corner he was hiding in, hopping onto the stool and grabbing two pints of the watered-down beer before sticking an arm out. his arms remained crossed, eyes focused on into the bubbling liquid.

“Oh, come on, mr. peacekeeper. You’re off duty. I won’t tell,” you teased, winking with a chuckle.

his lips thinned in an attempt to smile, and he finally grabbed the glass from your hand. you took a sip, using the opportunity to scour the quiet man in front of you. peacekeeper, obviously. if the classic blue uniform and dog tag didn't give it away, the buzzcut identical to an array of people in the room certainly did.

Although, his hair was a brilliant shade of blonde, white, almost, forcing a separation from him and the rest of his comrades.

you set your cup down, wiping your mouth with the frilly sleeve of your dress. "so, why aren't you dancing?"

he opened his mouth, then closed it. you raised your eyebrows, chuckling lightly at his wooden expression. "well?"

He sighed. “I’m leaving this district tomorrow. I've been reassigned to district two," he finally spoke. "I'm here because they," he swiped a hand over at the men behind him, "wanted to celebrate. I don’t… care for it."

you blew out an annoyed breath, rolling your eyes lightly at his response. his eyes squinted, silently assessing the way you gulped down the last of your drink and the way in which you brushed your tongue over your lips.

"you're looking at this all wrong..." you paused.

"coriolanus."

you grinned, "...coriolanus."

you hopped off the wooden stool, patting down your fluffy skirt. "you think they have bars like this in district two? you think they have beer, music, and dancing like this over in that fancy district?"

"well, I assume-"

"Well, stop assuming,” you ran your hands through your hair, staring into his blue eyes as you strode in his direction. “And simply live. You never know what might happen. tonight's your last chance to celebrate in the best district there is, corio. your last chance to dance, drink..."

going on your toes be at level with his face, you stepped even closer, close enough to smell his freshly washed shirt and feel his slow breaths on your eyelashes.

"...kiss," you whispered. the corners of his lips perked up ever so slightly, his blue eyes glossy from the flickering candles. you backed away with your eyes still locked together, only looking away when you slotted your way into the expanding dance circle in the middle of the room.

you laughed and yelled as you twirled and tapped your feet, linking arms with the seamstress you always see at the supermarket, holding the hands of the baker that always snuck you an extra muffin. when the lively music finally came to an end, you instinctively looked in his direction-- but he was no longer there, cup still half full on the worn-down table.

Wiping your forehead with a cloth, you panted as you opened the door leading to the outside. you relished in the cool breeze, feeling an immediate relief from the humid dancing quarters. you looked to your right, and there you spotted the same shimmering blonde hair, the same shiny blue eyes making their mark on you.

your feet were moving before you even realized. when you neared him, he looked down at you with an unexplainable gaze in his eyes, hands clenched by his side.

you opened your mouth to speak, but your words never got a chance to escape. In one moment, you were close enough to touch the brick wall in front of you with your hand, and in the next, your back was up against the prickly surface.

He inhaled sharply before he pressed his lips against yours, his fingers skimming your chin as yours grazed the back of his head. you couldn’t help but smile at the bitter taste of beer still on his tongue, pushing his head harshly against your mouth while you relaxed against the wall.

his lips lingered on yours for a long moment before he pulled away.

"snow," he breathed against the flesh of your lips.

you scoffed, still dazed and breathless. "what?-"

"coriolanus snow."

you slowly reached for the silver tag dangling around his neck, turning it around to observe the cold metal. "if you ever come to the capit-"

"I am never going to the-"

his hand came up to clutch your hand, which was still latching onto his chain tightly. "if you ever come to the capitol..."

pressing his forehead against yours, his other hand danced along your waist while he pulled your chin closer to him again.

"come find me.”

a/n: hey guys... did I just write a pic about president snow? yeah I did. I would like to formally apologize to katniss, finnick, peeta, johanna, etc and suzanne collins I’m sorry but I’m just a girl

Btw everyone I’ve only ever seen the movies n have never read any of the books (shame on me ik but I’m planning on it) so pls excuse any inaccuracies in setting, timeline, etc, etc.

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ode2rin · 1 year

Text

petty!rin is so baby girl i love writing him as much as i love clingy!rin | warnings: profanity and lil ooc | mentions of food

itoshi rin, likes to believe that he is one rational man.

he truly is. he is a man grounded with rationality, the real definition of calm and quiet. he prides himself on his ability to be stoic and composed at all costs.

he is one to be blunt, approach what’s wrong head on with his words that bleeds. never to cower, never one to hesitate.

truly indeed, itoshi rin is a rational man.

so, why the fuck is he in the kitchen, tightening all jars that he could see?

apparently, when rin is faced with the seemingly impossible mission of getting you to talk to him after a small (he thinks so) disagreement, all rationality goes out the window.

suddenly, he finds himself overcome with a desperate need to hear your voice, to mend whatever rift has come between you. and so, he does the only thing he can think of at this point: he heads to the kitchen.

there, he methodically tightens every jar he can find, each twist of the lid a small act of rebellion against his own calm demeanor. he puts your favorite snacks up high on the shelf, just out of reach, hoping that you'll come to him for help.

on a normal day, rin would never do this. this is nothing but a foolish, incredibly ridiculous, absurd plan. he would never do something like this, but he exhausted every rational option he had at his disposal. he already asked you if you wanted takeout (you just looked at him, you never say no to takeout), asked if you knew where his cleats were because he couldn't find them (of course he knows where they are), and his last resort was to play your favorite show in the living room in the hopes that you'd join him on the couch.

nothing worked. zero successful attempts. nada.

you are officially ignoring him for 5 hours and 36 minutes (not that he’s counting, the wall clock in the living room is just obnoxiously big for its purpose and it keeps reminding him of the time, yup, that must be it).

and rin thinks if this goes on for much longer, you might suggest sleeping in the guest room out of stubborness. no, rin thought of the idea.

there’s no way in hell would rin sleep away from you. that’s just vile torture in his book. a cold ass bed without you? sleep without you in his arms? (he might genuinely prefer to be locked in a room with shidou than have that). that is atrocious, he needs to prevent that from happening, or else he would really lose it.

seemingly content with his scheme, rin places himself on one of the bar stools at the kitchen countertop to wait, boring holes into the bedroom door you've isolated yourself in. if this doesn't work, pinning you down until you utter a word to him may be the next best (worst) option.

after what felt like an eternity (it was ten minutes, max) to rin, you finally emerged from your shared bedroom with a purpose, and that is to fill your grumbling stomach. making your way in the kitchen, you ignored how rin is intently watching every step you make.

you open one of the cupboards to get your leftover bag of chips from yesterday, only to be met by an empty shelf. looking up, you see the said chips placed two shelves higher than usual.

when did that even get there?

hastily, you reached out for a stool to reach it. rin can’t help but let out a silent huff at the sight of you standing on a stool. that stool must be fucking with him, because why is it conveniently there?

rin shifts expectantly on his seat when he sees you looking for the jar of dip you always combine with your chips. and the heavens must be siding with him as he sees you annoyed and struggling to open the said dip.

“let me.”

you were about to deny his offer when you felt his chest already pressing on your back as he reached out for the culprit of your annoyance.

“thanks.” you timidly uttered, but rin didn’t move an inch from where he was pressing on you.

instead, rin tentatively wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your temple. you felt the side of his jaw on your temple, his other hand rubbing smooth circles on your shoulders, tapping on it three times.

you shut your eyes tightly at the feel of his touch, "rin," you started, but you didn't know how to continue.

“i know. i was in the wrong,” he trailed off, tapping three times once again on your exposed collarbone as if the gesture was a language you two only understand, “i’m sorry, y/n,” he said, voice laced with remorse.

you looked over your shoulder to meet rin's gaze. his eyes were soft, and his expression held a hint of guilt that you rarely saw. he seemed to be waiting for your response, and you took a deep breath before answering.

“i only want what's best for you, rin. seeing you exhaust yourself like that hurts me,” you explained, turning to face him and resting your hands on his chest. “and i'm sorry for being immature and ignoring you. it wasn't the right way to handle things.”

immature? only if you knew.

he tightened his grip on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “i hate it when we fight," he mumbled, his voice muffled. “it hurts when you don’t look at me.”

taken aback by rin's confession, you struggled to find the right words to alleviate what you’ve done. instead, you tapped three times in his chest, right where his heart beats.

in which you earned a - “not more than i do,” reply from rin, suggesting he understood.

“as you should, rinnie.” you replied with a playful teasing smile.

ah, there it was - the smile rin loved so much. the smile that always promises him that it will be fine - you two will be fine.

if it meant earning that smile over and over again, rin wouldn’t mind throwing out every ounce of rationality from his body.

he’ll never tell you about it though, you’d tease him to death. besides, if you knew, how could he use the same scheme again?

note. i love this trope in books so much that it's everything i think of lately (˘･_･˘)

#☁️ my ode to you #once again #I AM CRAZY ABOUT ITOSHI RIN #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi

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moonlitdesertdreams · 1 month

Text

Skip the small talk

Request: None A/N: Again, I just want to thank everyone for supporting my stories and liking/commenting/reblogging/etc. It means the world to have such great reception to these one-shots. So please, enjoy this lil' story about the reader being a badass :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, drug use, decapitation Summary: You really weren't looking for trouble. All you wanted was something to eat, but of course things go awry. This is the Wasteland, after all.

Word Count: 2.6k+

(Gif Credit to @acecroft)

Thunder booms across the Wasteland, combining with the sound of heavy rain on metal rooftops.

It continues in tandem with its partner Lighting, who illuminates the hazy green poison that hangs low in the air tonight. The storm has been raging for hours, and doesn’t seem to be on the verge of letting up anytime soon.

After hours of tossing and listening to the howl of the storm, you decide to give up on sleep for the moment. The inn room you’d acquired is small but cozy, lit only by a couple candles that burn bright orange on the side table. You untangle yourself from Cooper where he lies half-naked beside you, scarred skin on display while in the security of your arms. As per usual, he crankily grumbles curses at you for causing a disturbance, but there’s no malice behind the words. His eyes blink open and lock on to you, immediately more alert at the prospect of you venturing away.

“What’re y’doin’?” His question is thick with sleep, forced through the haze by this codependency you’ve developed on each other.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and reach a hand back to brush his arm gently. “Thunder’s keeping me up. I’m gonna go see if the saloon downstairs has anything in the way of food.”

Cooper opens his mouth to respond, but a cough cuts him off. You pluck his inhaler from the nightstand and press it into his waiting hand. The cough wasn’t unusual, but you’d been traveling for days on end in search of a bounty and knew Cooper was putting on a facade of toughness. Everyone needed rest, and The Ghoul just didn’t know when to admit it.

“Go back to sleep.” You murmur, “I’ll only be a minute.”

He relents, but points a finger in your direction. “Fine. But they got anythin’ good, you bring me some back too, huh?”

You snatch the hand out of the air and press a kiss to his palm. “Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep.”

And since the Wasteland’s most fearsome bounty hunter would rather live through ten more atomic bombs than not have the last word, he scoffs.

“Bossy fuckin’ woman.”

You giggle at Cooper’s tough love as you tug thick tights and a long gray jacket onto your body. Out of pure habit, you look around for a weapon. Yours are stashed on the other side of the bed, but Cooper’s shotgun is propped against the wall by the door. You opt to grab it, slinging the gun onto your shoulder and making sure the strap is secure before cracking open the door.

The old clock hanging in the hall reads one thirty in the morning, but the sounds from the saloon downstairs continue as normal. Perhaps a bit more toned down than the daytime, but voices still mingle and dance together up the stairs. You trail after them, patting your pockets to ensure there’s enough caps to pay for a hot meal. Cooper’s half-canister of Jet and the wrinkled bounty poster sure ain’t going to pay for anything.

Eyes flicker towards you as you step onto the main floor, but they return back to their own tables soon enough. Everyone’s clad in raincoats or hats, outfitted for the weather. The town was a central point for a few settlements which popped up around it, and a major trade destination. The frequency of armed caravan guards passing through proved to be a rather decent deterrent for the unpleasant types, and most people had been nice to the point of frightening.

At the bar, you pull out a rusty stool and settle onto it. All the other patrons but one are at tables closer to the door. The same man who’d rented the room to Cooper and yourself is down the bar chatting.

“No surprise there. They’ve got some questionable folks runnin’ cargo these days.” The bartender is saying. He drops his hands on the bar. “But they take what they can get.”

The other man at the bar is older, just like the bartender. Dressed in dirty clothes, hood up with heavy gloves next to him, you figure he might be a lead farmer. You give a brief nod his way before focusing back on the bartender as he slides over.

“What can I do for you, ma’am?” For someone out in the Wasteland, his face is kind. Weathered and probably suffering from radiation poisoning like the rest of you, but kind nonetheless.

“Got anything hot to eat back there?” You ask, but think better of it. “Or anything to eat?”

“You’re in luck. One of the trade caravans left us with an old brahmin yesterday. Fresh brahmin steak if it tickles your fancy?”

You toss the caps onto the bar. “Sign me up.”

He busies himself at the cooking station for a few minutes, and eventually delivers a steaming steak in front of you. He checks on the other bar-goer and floats back over to you after a few minutes.

“So, I have to ask.” He starts, “You came in here with that ghoul, yeah?”

You pause, mouth full and one hand instinctively freeing itself for a weapon if necessary. He must have caught onto your bristling, as he holds both hands up in a placating gesture.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothin’ bad, I was just curious. We don’t get a lot of ghouls around here, let alone people traveling with them.”

Hell, there was no need for him to tell you that. Cooper and yourself brought stares everywhere you went, discounting the cities you frequented that knew you both by reputation. You’d been called every name in the book in small communities like this, from chem-head, to ghoul-fucker and anything people could come up with.

“Yeah, we travel together. Easier to stay alive and make money when there’s two of us.” You saw off another piece of steak.

“Bounty hunters, then?”

You shrug. “Sometimes. We do whatever needs doing most of the time. If the price is right.”

If Cooper was next to you, he’d be spewing threats of dismemberment and cutting out tongues for all the questions, but you didn’t mind. It was nice meeting someone who wasn’t immediately training crosshairs on your body.

“Fair enough. I’m Clint, if you need anything.” The bartender wipes his hands with a rag and moves about his way, readjusting liquor bottles and carrying beers out to tables that are hollering for them.

You finish your steak and gulp down the water Clint had set in front of you at some point. It washes away the gamey taste of mutated beef. You wait for him to return, as you were sure that fresh brahmin steak qualified as ‘anything good’ in Cooper’s eyes.

“This seat taken?”

You barely glance over your shoulder at the question, but give a half-hearted shrug. There was a whole bar and whoever this idiot is wants to sit next to you?

“Nuh-uh.”

The stool scrapes against the uneven wood floor, and you look over at the man that’s sat himself beside you. He’s younger than you expected, but vaguely familiar as if you’ve passed by him before. Brown hair slicked back close to his skull and shaved on the sides, and a distinct pale discoloration on his chin. There’s a valiant attempt at beard growth but it’s patchy at best.

You stare for just a moment before returning to the drops of water left in your dirty cup.

“Now, I can see you’re not from around here.” His tone is boyish, almost conceited.

Narrowly resisting an eyeroll, you set your cup back down. “Aren’t you just a right scholar?”

“I know a few things.” He waves his hand at Clint as he returns, and a beer is set in front of him moments later. “I know that you rode into town tonight, looking for a bounty.”

Lightning illuminates all of the cracks in the building. Thunder rolls.

It takes a moment, but hits you as a smile is breaking out across the man’s face. You hadn’t passed by him before or traded. Your hand ghosts over the folded-up bounty poster in the pocket of your coat.

“Name’s Spade, by the way.”

Fuck. You’d never forget the name of a bounty. Especially the one set to inherit an entire Gunner outfit that had been threatening caravans for miles in every direction.

“Spade, huh? Named after a shovel?” You prod. “No wonder you ain’t good at making friends.”

Spade calmly sips on his beer. “Neither are you, I hear. Though that might be due to your choice in company.”

Turning your head all the way towards him, you entertain the banter. Trying to avoid the subject of having a partner. You didn’t doubt if the shooting started that Cooper would come running down the stairs, but surprise is always an advantage.

“Yeah, I’m starting to question it myself.”

“I heard you were funny.” Spade chuckles, and withdraws a bulky device from underneath his coat. It crackles and pops like a geiger counter. “But I know you didn’t come here alone.”

You listen to the device pop, but don’t recognize it.

“Say, how much Rad-Away do you go through? Traveling, eating, sleeping and whatever else with The Ghoul must really fuck with your health. His radiation signature is all over you.” Spade tucks the device away.

“Don’t worry, I wear lead-lined panties.” You pat your thighs and stand. “And I don’t have time for this.”

Just as you make it to your feet, you notice the rest of the patrons do the same. They all shrug off their raincoats and reveal standard Gunner clothing, and you pause. Betraying nothing, you simply stare. Counting eleven opponents including Spade. Too busy thinking about how you grabbed Cooper’s shotgun and no extra ammo because you’re apparently a fool. The one combat knife in your boot is a viable choice, but tough to handle so many. You note Clint’s swift exit out the back door of the establishment.

“All this firepower for me?”

Spade follows suit, and stands. He towers over you.

“Don’t play dumb. I know they want me dead, and I’m not keen on letting that happen.”

You nod. “Understandable.”

And it’s then one of his men gets twitchy, and you’re diving behind the bar at the cocking of a gun.

Spade hollers something at the men that sound suspiciously like “kill her”, but the thunder drowns him out. You press your back up against the bar for cover, and whip the shotgun into your grip. You feel at the knife in your boot, and brush past the Jet in your pocket.

“Fuck it.”

You draw out the inhalant and put it between your lips. Bracing for the adrenaline rush, you squeeze the Chems into your mouth. Not much of a frequent user, you resist the urge to cough and waste the effects.

In just a few seconds, the world around you feels as if it’s moving in slow motion. You leap up from behind the bar, aiming and popping off the two rounds you have into the groupies that Spade brought along. One slug crashes through two of them while the other blows another’s head to pieces.

Three down, eight to go.

You sling the gun back over your shoulder and draw the knife. In your peripheral, you notice Spade reaching for his waistband. On pure instinct, you whip the knife in his direction. It finds his mark in his right eye, and he goes to the ground wailing. Just as the Jet begins to wear thin, you hop over the bar towards the crowd.

“Fuck her up!”

You bend down near Spade’s writing frame, and rip the knife out of his eye socket with a wet squelch. Leaving him for last, you twirl the knife around and beckon at his cronies.

“Well?”

You lunge towards the closest, thrusting the knife at his throat. He catches your wrist and twists it away, but you’re quick to jam your elbow upwards into his chin. It stuns him just enough that you can stab the knife into his guts and rip sideways. Entrails spill, and you reach through them to grab the pipe pistol at his hip.

The next few go down via bullet, and you’re eventually left with only Spade alive. He’s clawed his way to his feet as you finished off his gang, and now has an automatic pistol pointed at your head. It wavers dangerously, as he’s half-blind and still spurting blood from the wounded eye socket.

You drop the pistol that’s been occupying your right hand and hold up the knife.

“Wanna get reacquainted?”

Spade bares his teeth at you. “And here we brought all the guns for The Ghoul.”

A shrug. “I’m sort of offended that I was underestimated.”

“I’ll make a note of it.”

Spade pulls the trigger as soon as you duck. His intentions were given away by the fractional squint of his good eye, struggling to aim properly. You charge towards him beneath the rounds, colliding with his knees. The bullets fly upwards, blasting holes in a narrow column up the wall. It sends splinters flying near the staircase.

“Motherfucker!”

About fucking time Cooper decided to show up.

You straddle Spade’s body and knock the pistol away. One boot keeps his wrist pinned down, and you bring the knife to his neck.

“Next time,” You growl, tracing the blade along his Adam’s Apple, “Skip the small talk.”

Blood sprays as you apply pressure, puncturing through his carotid. You drag the knife to the side, leaning away to avoid the spray as best as possible. Until he stops twitching, you keep him pinned to the ground.

“Well goddamn baby, next time invite me to the party.” The Ghoul, as Spade had referred to him, swaggers over to you. His honey-soaked eyes survey the carnage. “I thought you was gettin’ something to eat, not takin’ out our bounty so soon.”

You wipe your bloody hands on Spade’s coat and huff indignantly. “And I thought your old ass would move faster when you heard gunshots.”

Cooper holds out a gloved hand to help you up. “Thunder blocked out the sound.”

“Excuses, excuses.” You grumble, allowing him to pull you up.

The world spins, thanks to the adrenaline fading and Jet withdrawals. You stagger into Cooper, and he grips your arm.

“You ain’t shot, are ya? Left the stimpaks upstairs.”

You shake your head and let him steer you onto a barstool. “Nah. Jet.”

Cooper whoops. “My girl! Well shouldn’t we just be celebratin’ this momentous occasion.”

“Fuck you. I’m not doing anything but going back to bed.” You press your forehead into his chest. “Fuckin’ Chems.”

The Ghoul chuckles and uses two fingers to hold and lift your chin. He kisses your lips, already dry from licking at them. You hold the lapels of his coat to keep upright and only pull away when another pang of dizziness wracks you.

He steps away for a moment, and gets to work removing Spade’s head from his body to return for the money.

“Damn.” You rub your temples. “How the hell do you use that shit all the time?”

“Years of practice.” Cooper hums, and finds a burlap sack behind the bar to package the head. “Sure worked good for you, huh?”

You hop from the stool, using the bar as a crutch to stay upright. “Uh huh, right up until it didn’t. Now I wanna go to bed. Desperately.”

“Fine, fine.” Cooper relents, bloody sack in hand. He follows you to the stairs, free hand ghosting over your hip.

The Ghoul hovers behind as if you’re going to start cartwheeling back down, and herds you back into the rented room. You strip and crawl back in bed, hiding away from the cool air beneath the blanket. Cooper takes his time, but eventually blesses you with his body heat. You cozy up, letting it burn away the symptoms of Jet withdrawals.

“Did you ever get somethin’ to eat?”

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

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joshlmbrt · 5 months

Text

Dream On. (s. harrington x reader)

cw; jealous steve, some loser trying his HARDEST, eddie making fun of steve, not canon complaint, based in the 90s’, yes this is based on dream on by aerosmith, kissing against a pool table in front of ppl, use of y/n ONCE - i’m sorry, it was needed 😭.

song; dream on - aerosmith

an; yes!!! jealous steve! this is my first time writing anything remotely to anyone being jealous - so it might not be that good!!!

AERO, CHICAGO. 1992.

𖡡 STARDUST.

“Dustin was upset he couldn’t come,” Robin takes the drink Eddie slides over to her. She pulls the cherry out by the stem. “Had to study for a test. Well, Steve made him.”

“Hey!” Steve turns to look at the girl. “I know he’s smart, but I don’t want him to fail!”

“It’s okay, Stevie,” You lift your hand, pushing your fingers through his hair. “You just want what’s best for him.”

“See.” He points at you, nodding enthusiastically.

“Even if it means he can’t see his old pal.” You grin when you see his smile drop. Eddie chuckles and slides you the Miami Sunrise you ordered. “Thanks, Eds.”

He gives you a little wink. Steve narrows his eyes at him.

“And who are these lovely people?” A girl steps out from the back room. Her hair was teased to the Heavens and red lipstick perfected. Not a smudge in sight.

“Oh, these are my friends from Hawkins,” He introduces you all. “Guys, this is my lady, Foxy.” He wiggles his brows, tattooed arm slipping around her waist.

She gives a wave before pressing a kiss to his cheek, a small imprint of red being left behind. “See ya later. Steak?”

“And twice baked potatoes?”

“You got it, love.” She pinches at his chin. She walks off, red boots clicking as she goes.

“Marry me already!” He calls out. He was never afraid to make a scene when it came to the ones he loved deeply.

People around the bar looks towards him, brows lifted and some grumbling.

She laughs, slipping on the leather jacket and pulling her hair that was stuck from underneath. “Save up and buy me a ring and propose to me, then I’ll sleep on it.” She winks, pushing the doors open and walking out.

You turn to Eddie, brows lifting. “You gotta ‘lil something right here.” You tease, pointing to your cheek.

He looks away from the door, rolling his eyes. “Ha-ha. Funny.”

You laugh a bit, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Come on, Robs. I believe you challenged me to some pool.” You slip off the stool, walking towards the pool table.

Robin blinks a couple of times before looking between Steve and Eddie. Her eyes land on Steve. “Do you think she’ll beat me?” She whispers.

He snorts, bringing the beer bottle to his lips. “Oh, yeah. Good luck.”

She grumbles, slipping out of her own seat. “I don’t have fifty bucks, so slip me a couple of bills, please.”

Steve’s brows lift.

She holds out her hand. “Cough it up. You owe me anyway.”

He rolls his eyes, pulling his wallet out, pulling out fifty bucks and placing it into her hand. “If you win, give it back. I do not owe you fifty.”

She grins and folds the money, stuffing it into her pocket as she walks away. She pats his back.

“She won’t give it back, will she?”

“No.” Eddie smirks, grabbing another beer and cracking it open for Steve, placing it in front of him.

✯

An hour later, Stardust had become a little more crowded and a little more rowdy - not enough to make you all leave though.

You and Robin were still playing pool while Steve sat by himself, speaking to Eddie when he was free of customers.

“Uh… Steve,” Eddie had been peeking towards the pool tables that had a dim, dingy light above them. “I don’t want you to, like, freak out. But there’s a man who’s been at the pool table with Robin and Y/N. And I don’t think he’s interested in Robs.”

Steve’s brows pinch together and he turns to stare at the pool table.

The man in question was handsome - no doubt. Chiseled features, a tattoo sleeve with a couple of tattoos on his knuckles, brown hair with some blonde highlights.

“Does he come in here often?”

“Boy, does he? He’s in here every night flirting with anything that’s breathing and walking on two legs,” Eddie rolls his eyes, catching a hand at the end of the bar lift. “Hold on. I’ll be right bac-” He stops, watching as Steve makes his way over.

“-I’ll show you my favorite song.” And he even has good voice? Steve cannot win.

You peek up at him, lifting a brow. “What song would that be?” You tilt your head to the side. Robin notices Steve, making a face.

“Help.” She mouths.

He grins, turning and walking towards the jukebox in the corner. He slips in a quarter and picks Dream On.

Eddie groans internally when he hears the song - not that he dislikes it, but there is so many times you can play a song.

The man - Drew - steps back, pearly whites on show. Steve’s arm drapes over your shoulder. “Who’s this?” His voice cracks a bit.

Drew looks over at him, lifting a brow.

“Oh, this is Drew,” You point at him, shrugging. Steve’s eyes narrow at him. “Could you get me another drink?” You’re already staring at him with a smile.

He nods, pressing a kiss to your temple as he walks off. Robin goes with him. You curse her in your mind.

“So… I seen that you were having a bit of trouble.” Drew slowly walks towards you.

“With what?” You grab the chalk and rub it on the end of the stick.

“With pool,” You want to laugh in his face. “I could show you.”

“Sure,” Before he gets any closer, you slap the stick into his chest. He huffs. “Show me.”

He clears his throat. “Well, it’s kind of better to learn by actually showing you - if you know what I mean.”

You open your mouth to quickly retaliate. “Here’s that drink, babe.” Steve smiles.

“Thanks, honey.” You grab it from his hand, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his mouth.

Before you could fully pull away from Steve, his hand is grabbing the back of your head, pulling you closer and kissing you again. You squeak when your back hits the side of the pool table, the feeling of his hand traveling to the side of your neck.

He tasted faintly your mango chapstick he had stolen earlier, cherries he had snacked on, and beer, a weird but nice combination that. He grips at the side of your neck softly, his fingernails digging into your skin slightly, pulling away slowly.

He presses one last faint kiss to each corner of your mouth before pulling away fully and pushing your hair behind your ears.

He peeks over your shoulder and notices Drew was officially gone, making some ‘moves’ - if you could even call them that - on another poor girl.

You grin, wiping some gloss from his lip. “You’re so cute.”

He looks down at you, cheeks burning. “What?”

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous.” He denies quickly.

You lift your brows. “No? Well, then I’ll get Drew. I’m dying to know what he was-”

“No!” He grabs your arm. He knew you wasn’t actually going to talk to Drew again, but just the thought irked him.

You grin at him and grab your glass and Steve’s hand, making your way back to the bar. “Don’t worry, Stevie. You’re the only one for me.”

“You’re cheesy.”

“And gross,” Eddie makes a face. Steve looks at him, face burning with embarrassment when he realizes what he did. “I have to disinfect the pool table.”

for; @reidsbtch !!! i hope i did jealous!steve justice for u

steve tags; @officerrrfriendly, @lavendermunson, @keerygal, @queercodedcharacter, @halflifejess, @whisperingwillowxox, @alltoomay

thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, likes, feedback, & requests are encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #jealous!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #joe keery x reader

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landograndprix · 6 months

Text

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part xvi

✧.* you disappeared from the face of the earth for a couple of months for reasons and while your life is looking amazing to the outside, you've been going through it.

✧.* happy new year babies ❤️ theres a lil' times skip here — tag list is closed, follow @landonfourlibrary to be notified for updates :)

✧.* prev part - next part

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y/nusername

liked by carlossainz55, milouberger and 287,563 others

y/nusername lately dump 👶🏻

tagged: landonorris, maxfewtrell, cecilemoulin

view all 1,682 comments

norrizz I KNEW IT!!!!

cecilemoulin never been more excited about anything before 😍

bott_ass I am in fact speechless (in a good way)

charles_leclerc congratulations you guys!

sharl16 another baby for Charles to obsess over 😂

norry4 and y'all were convinced they broke up..I knew they were up to something 😂

mclaren baby mclaren 👶🏻🧡

carlossainz55 congrats! ❤️

chilisainz alexa play that should be me by Justin Bieber

hamilt44n a siblings just for me? 🥺

lanlan y'all sleeping on the last picture, this baby is already acting like a menace 😭

y/nluv ma'am this is more than just breaking your arm and having some complications 💀

landonorris ❤️❤️❤️

carlandooo dilf lando

y/nlandooo so happy for y'all but are we all going to ignore milou in y/n her likes 😭

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y/nusername

liked by oscarpiastri, milouberger and 206,453 others

y/nusername 🧡

tagged: landonorris, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri

view all 1,999 comments

piastripastry thank you for adopting oscar, it means a lot 🥺

norry4 never screamed so hard when I saw you pop up on my TV 😭

y/nlandooo living that wag life like you should

landonorris wrong hat..

oscarpiastri not really

y/nusername no

norrizz mom and dad fighting about the kids already 💀

leclerc_16 Charles smelling babies from miles away and trying to convert them to ferrari kids like usual..

yukisan milou hiding in the likes again

oscarpiastri 👍

y/nusername seat robber

landoscar lmfao stop 🤣

mrlandonorrizz aw lando and his parents 🥺

cecilemoulin friend sees cat, friend needs to stop, friend needs to take a picture

bott_ass did she take this one home too?

y/nusername wasn't allowed to take it home, had a good cry about it 😔

bott_ass why'd they mistreat a pregnant woman like that? :(

carlandooo so happy to see you back on the grid 🥰

maxfewtrell what's your man trying to do in that last picture?

y/nusername trying to feel important

cecilemoulin happy to see the step stool is used in public too

landonorris thanks guys

julieeeexo is it national bully lando day? 😂

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, cecilemoulin and 273,876 others

y/nusername 👶🏻💙

tagged: landonorris

view all 1,109 comments

maxfewtrell can't believe we're getting a second version of lando in a couple of weeks..

sharl16 the bullying just multiplied

carlandooo tripled, y/n bullies max as much as lando does 😂

hamilt44n how far along are you actually?

norrizz my babies are growing up so fast 😭

bott_ass boy mom y/n? Makes sense!

norry4 a mini lando? 😭

landonorris I'm always right

y/nusername boy i never said you were wrong..

yukisan kids no fighting pls :(

landonorris 💙💙💙

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, milouberger and 226,989 others

y/nusername vegas with the lads

tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri

view all 1,462 comments

chilisainz oscar night out with his parents 🥰

norry4 someone tell milou to fuck off, she's dead to all of us..

yukisan fuck off @.milouberger

carlito55 be gone @.milouberger

norstappenn you're gonna get married here right? RIGHT?! 👀

fewtrelllando a couple of besties on their night out 😭

bott_ass super happy you're becoming a mom but I'm sad we don't get to see you drive in Vegas :(

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728

Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot @ironmaiden1313 @justdreamersdream @dreamsarebig @for-our-moony @sadg3 @gaslysainz @goldenharrysworld - continue tags in comments

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x oc #lando norris smau #lando norris au #lando x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader

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kombuuuu · 11 months

Note

(One thought before I gtb)

Sweet shy lil baby Miles (42) interrupting everything his lover says because he always has the urge to kiss them and, as much as he loves listening to them, their sentences always end up unfinished bc them n Miles are smoochin

damn ok i forgive you

HE WOULD GIGGLES

also he would so distract you from whatever you’re doing by trying to get your attention

no matter what it is

he’s obsessed i swear i swear

—

“Miles, baby, you doin’ ok—, Oh!”

A small peck was placed on your lips right as you turned, Miles staring down at you from his position, hands wrapped behind his back with tea cloth, tied together.

You had to tie them, considering the man couldn’t keep his hands to himself the entire time you’d been cooking.

So you wrapped them up, with him snarkily grinning at you, and sat him on a stool, telling him to wait patiently or one of you was going to get burned.

“Yeah, Chiquita, I’m good.”

You gave him a look, flashing the knife you still held in your hands and watching his smile widen at the sight of it.

“Go sit back down, whore.”

He snorted, stepping closer. Canines peaking from behind his lip and making his smile ever more charming.

“C’mon, I’m jus’ tryna help—.”

You flicked the knife, backing up as he followed, and watching him stop, a bemused expression dawning his features.

“You wouldn’t.”

The tip of the knife poked directly centre of his torso, his abs clenching at the feeling. He’s right, you wouldn’t. But when you slowly spun the (newly deemed) weapon, his shirt catching on the blade and twirling with it, he groaned into a chuckle — throwing his head back dramatically and backing up.

Miles grumbled under his breath, and sauntered back to his dedicated stool, shooting you a pouting look as he went.

“You’re no fun—,”

“Do you want me to burn the house down?”

“Girl on Fire, Rhianna again.”

“It was Beyoncé last time,”

“Answers yes either way, we die together, baby.”

“Oh my god.”

#໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა #across the spiderverse #miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #spiderverse x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles my beloved #miles morales x you #atsv miles #prowler morales #prowler x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles fluff

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bussyslayer333 · 2 years

Text

Fell in Luv

summary: Bradley letting you pick the Halloween costumes this year ends up being the best decision he’s ever made.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x girlfriend!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: allusions to smut, mentions of alcohol, and bradley being a horndog but same tbh

this is my lil contribution to halloween fics so pls enjoy lollll

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Bradley Bradshaw was many things; a naval aviator, a boyfriend, a son, a romantic (if he could say so himself) but mostly he was a comic. Bradley took pride in making people laugh. You knew that whenever you stepped into a room he’d be in the centre of it, causing some type of chaos to keep everyone entertained. It was one of the things you loved most about him. It was also why you couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his suggestion this morning.

“We are not wearing a couples costume to the Hard Deck tonight,”

“Baby, pleeeeeeeeeeeeease.” He whined in a way that reminded you so dearly of a child on the verge of a tantrum. You raised your eyebrows at his tone and he checked himself. Clearing his throat he started again.

“Jake and his girlfriend are dressing up! So are Bob and his girlfriend! I seriously think Penny and Mav have something sorted! Not to mention all the couples we don’t know who will be matching…”

Bradley’s puppy dog eyes stared up at you from where he was sat behind the island in your kitchen.

“God don’t look at me like that you make me feel bad.” You spoke as you walked around the kitchen to sit next to him. He squeezed your ass as you walked by and you gave him and a pointed look. “You’re not helping yourself here.”

He pouted and spoke again, “what if I let you choose the costume?” You perked up at his suggestion and he carried on, “sweetheart I’m giving you a great deal here.” You thought on his offer. Bradley had to be at work all day today whilst you had the day off, it would give you the chance to figure out what to wear and not leave it to Bradley’s often misguided hands.

You loved Bradley with all of your heart, but your apprehension to a couples costume came with reason. Last Halloween you had allowed him to pick the costumes without backlash and had ended up having to walk around the Hard Deck as dressed Mario and Luigi. You were so utterly confused as you why you had to be Luigi. Had they ran out of Princess Peach costumes? You had questioned Bradley as soon as he showed you the matching overalls and his answer was infuriatingly simple.

“Ohhhhhhhhh i forgot about her!” He laughed. Doubled over once he saw you sporting a matching moustache to his. If you were going to dress up you were going to commit to the costume.

Done with your cringeworthy reminiscing you hummed and finally smiled, “Ugh, fine.”

Bradley pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek and hopped down from the stool he was sat on.

“Thanks, baby!”

He rushed to leave in fear that if he stayed longer you would change your mind. He shouted from the door as you started to clear breakfast from the table.

“I’ll see you tonight darling!” He was laying it on thick.

You giggled, “Bye babe!” and waited for the sound of the door to close before you retreated up to your shared bedroom to start thinking about your costumes.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Flicking through your draw of random accessories that you had accumulated over the years something caught your eye. Digging behind a hideous plastic tiara you picked up a pair of bunny ears.

They had been a part of a costume you wore with two of your other friends a few years earlier. You had all dressed as the plastics from mean girls in their Halloween ‘outfits’, you being Regina, had worn the bunny ears to complete the full look. It had been a look that got you far too much attention than you were used to. But if Rooster wanted a couples costume, then a couples costume he would get.

Placing the bunny ears on the bed you pulled out the second drawer down where you kept your socks and underwear. You pushed your hand right to the back and felt around for the tell tale material of your fishnets. You had bought them once on a whim of trying to be more alternative in your fashion. However, whenever you put them on they never made it out of the house with you. Bradley was a simple man and seeing his girlfriend in fishnets was something he felt was only for his eyes.

You huffed in triumph as you snagged your nail around the material and managed to pull the fishnets out from the drawer (making a mental note to clean the drawer out later because geez) and placed them down next to the ears.

Rummaging through you wardrobe now, you hummed as you flicked through random articles of clothing until you hit the jackpot. The black corset bodysuit you had bought on a whim to surprise Bradley for his birthday earlier on in the year. You giggled to yourself as your costume was coming together before your eyes and Bradley was going to lose his mind.

Reaching for your phone on the dresser, you went to ring Jake’s girlfriend asking for a favour. She picks up after the first few rings.

“Hi gorgeous, are you okay?” She chats down the phone.

“Perfect actually, I was just wondering if I could borrow Jake’s silk robe for Bradley tonight?” You giggled down the phone.

You were only aware of Jake’s bourgeois fashion choices because of an emergency pick up he had to make for his girlfriend after she had downed one too many tequila shots at your birthday party. He had been teased mercilessly for the robe by Bradley for months still so you felt it only appropriate that he shared the experience.

Jake’s girlfriend snorted at your question, “Of course! But please don’t return it with any bodily fluid stains, I will never hear the end of it from Jake.”

You assured her, “I promise no harm will come to his robe, scouts honour.”

You could hear her smile through the phone as she began to question you, “What are you going as anyway?”

“I only agreed to costumes this year on the condition that I got to pick it. Lord knows there could not be a repeat of last year.”

She cackles as you carry on. “So I’ve decided on a playboy bunny and Hugh Hefner.”

“And you think Rooster is gonna let you walk around the Hard Deck all night in fishnets and bunny ears, you’re funny!”

“That’s the whole point my dear,” you smirk down the phone.

“God you’re evil. I love it.”

You chat some more and agree that she’ll come and drop the robe off, then pick you up so you can get ready together.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hearing a knock at the door, you go to greet Jake’s girlfriend who has the robe in tow. You smile at her and take the robe off of her, leading her upstairs.

You place the robe down on your bed, where you have also placed Bradley’s hat that he has to wear with his dress whites, and a pair of black smart trousers. Jake’s girlfriend giggles as she reads the note you’ve left Bradley along side his outfit.

Bradley,

Wear this to the Hard Deck tonight, I’ll meet your there

Love, your bunny x

ps, recognise the robe? ;)

“He is gonna lose his mind when he sees you!”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Finishing the final touches to your makeup, you look across the room to where Jake’s girlfriend has added a bunny tail to your bodysuit.

“I knew I kept you around for a reason.” She laughs at your statement and stands up to dress herself.

Her and Jake were going as her choice of costume as well. Her hair was pulled up into a classic ponytail and she was somehow managing to balance herself in bright pink stilettos. Barbie and Ken. You smiled knowing Bradley would get a kick out of seeing Jake even more perfectly styled that usual.

You pull the fishnets up your legs, careful not to catch a manicured nail into the fine material and secure them with a quick jump. Next you pull on the corset, and stand to look in the mirror at how it accentuates your waist and breasts perfectly.

Jake’s girlfriend walks back into the room and whistles loudly.

“Damn, if you weren’t Bradshaw’s I’d be taking you home tonight babe.” You snort at her cheesy line and sit back down to pull on your equally as uncomfortable black heels.

As the finishing touch, you place the bunny ears onto you styled hair and check yourself out once again in the mirror. You looked hot.

You and Jake’s girlfriend make your way downstairs to where Jake had been sat waiting for you two to finish up. It hadn’t taken him long to create his signature Ken look, he sported an unbuttoned button up, blue chino shorts and loafers. It was all very frat boy of him.

Jake looked up from his phone and chuckled, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? Is Bradshaw still treating you right?”

You look to your right expecting to see your friend annoyed but instead she exclaims, “that’s exactly what I was saying baby!” And runs over to kiss him. God they were meant for each other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Walking towards the entrance to the Hard Deck which had been appropriately decorated with pumpkins and other Halloween decor, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anxiety in your stomach. What if Bradley didn’t like your outfit? What if he was embarrassed to be seen with you in so little clothing?

Noticing your apprehension, Jake’s girlfriend grasps your hand and squeezes it reassuringly. Giving you a surge in confidence you push the door open. Jake greets Coyote dressed [read barely covered] as Tarzan and heads over to the bar top where Mav and Penny are dressed as Bonnie and Clyde serving people their drinks.

Scanning the room you spot your boyfriend draped in Jake’s robe with his back facing you, speaking to who you can assume is Phoenix who has some extremely detailed skeletal face paint going on. You smile at her as you make eye contact and her jaw drops. You see her say something to Bradley and he whips around to face you.

You make the final steps in their direction and greet your boyfriend somewhat shyly under his heated gaze.

“Hi.”

Bradley flicks the top of his hat up and places both his strong hands on your waist. He stares hungrily down at you feeling his dress pants tighten slightly. You feel your confidence rise as he drinks you in and go to speak again,

“Cat got your- mmph!”

Bradley interrupts your teasing by smashing his lips into yours. Phoenix chuckles, bringing you back down to earth. You pull away from Bradley breathlessly and smile sheepishly at her. She pipes up,

“I’m gonna need a drink after watching that borderline soft core pornography!” And with that she saunters off.

You bring your gaze back to Bradley with flushed cheeks both from the embarrassment of Phoenix’s comment and the intensity of the kiss.

“Bunny, you have no idea what you are doing to me.” Bradley whispers against you ear, his breath hot.

You turn on your heels slightly and wiggle your ass in Bradley’s direction, showing off the fluffy tail. Bradley groans, swearing under his breath and grabs you by the wrist.

“We are getting out of here.”

You pout as he pulls you from the crowds and stumble slightly on your heels. Bradley slows as he reaches the door to steady you and you speak.

“But we just got here!”

Bradley shrugs and squeezes your thigh, revelling in the feel of the fishnets on your smooth skin.

“Should have let me pick the costume then.” He speaks smugly.

You turn to make eye contact with Jake’s girlfriend as you’re pulled out the door and she winks before turning back to Jake. Once you’re out of sight of the Hard Deck Bradley picks you up over his shoulder fireman style and slaps where the tail meets the top of your behind. You laugh and wiggle in his grip as you see his phone light up with a notification in his pocket.

You pull it out to see a message from Jake.

bagman 🙄

for the love of god watch the robe

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: i had so much fun writing this request you had no idea lolll

brad brad loml let me dress up for you 😫

pls reblog and comment and tell me what u think !!!

thank u for the request and pls keep sending them in!!!

ty for reading :)

- honey <3

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun movie #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #rooster x you #miles teller #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw x reader smut #rooster x reader smut #hangman #hangman x reader #jake seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun rooster

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willowser · 10 months

Note

okay but imagine one day the little one goes up to his daddy and tells him you introduced a guy to him and how much he doesn’t like this man. It doesn’t even have to be a romantic partner it could just be an old friend but lil one and ex!husband bakugou instantly assume you have a new man in your life

omg. the heart attack bakugou is having.

your son is standing on his little step-stool in front of katsuki's bathroom mirror. meant to be brushing his little teeth, but he's mostly chewing on his toothbrush, poking around in his dad's cologne and aftershave and deodorant. at least he's put his pj's on by himself.

katsuki is finishing up his own shower, glancing at him every now and then as he washes the shampoo from his own hair, and when he's finally done, the little boy hasn't gotten any closer to having clean teeth; now he's drawing mindless little shapes through the steam that's built up on the glass.

"oi," he only has to say it once and then your son is letting out a little sigh before brushing the way he's meant to — even if katsuki knows the there's not a lick of toothpaste on that thing.

"dad," he says suddenly, distracted as he turns around to face him. "mommy doesn't let me take a shower."

katsuki moved on from bath time rather quick. in the very beginning, it was fine, because he washed his squirmy son and then wrapped him up in a towel and that was it, but in the last year or so it's turned into "how many toys can i bring with me this time, dad?" and then sitting in the water until it's run cold. it's much easier to get him in the shower at the same time, to shampoo his head and scrub his little butt and then kick him out.

"oh, yeah?" he murmurs, adjusting the towel on his waist. "s'cause mom's better at baths than me."

the little boy only shrugs, before continuing. he's in a small phase right now of 'dad? hey dad? um, dad?' every time he's got something to say, and katsuki finds it both cute and a little exhausting.

"hey dad?"

katsuki hums.

"mommy had a man in her shower."

the first image that comes to mind is of himself, in your shower; the many times you'd taken one together and hugged him beneath the warm water; how it clung to your eyelashes and sat in your cupid's bow. warm, made soft and tender in the steam, like he could mold you against his body forever.

— and then his stomach is swooping so hard, he thinks he might be sick.

"what?" katsuki asks, voice loud and affronted, snatching all his son's attention. "sorry, 'm sorry," and then because his son is still looking at him with wide eyes, he pulls him up close, rubbing his back once before setting him to stand on the counter — which he never gets to do.

guilt twists in his stomach for yelling, though his son seems unbothered now, at new heights. katsuki grabs him by his little tiny shoulders and tries to keep his face smooth and calm, his pending heartbreak hidden.

"who was in mom's shower?"

but your son is smarter than that, can read katsuki like an open book, somehow. as if you passed all your understanding down through the womb; he came out of there knowing exactly what dad was thinking with a single look.

your son only shrugs, averting his eyes to katsuki's shoulder as he lightly pinches his wet skin.

"'m sorry," he says again, shaking his little body around until the boy is laughing. "i'm not mad. i just..." katsuki sighs and tries not to pout. "wasn't expecting that."

"are you mad at mommy?"

the divorce isn't new, and katsuki's not stupid.

you've been on a handful of dates, been open about it, encouraged him to do the same. not that he's bothered, but anyone with eyes and half a brain would try to swoop in on someone like you, so — as much as it makes him want to knock some fucking teeth in — can't say he should be surprised.

he shouldn't be, at all.

still feels like shit, though.

"no," he finally says, tugging the little toothbrush from his tiny fist to put some actual toothpaste on it. "'m not mad at anybody."

"are you sad?"

maybe it's another purposeful distraction, to get out of doing what he's told, or maybe he's probing at nerves because he's too young and too curious, or maybe he just knows his dad too well.

katsuki frowns at his big eyes, staring back at him, before lightly patting his little hip. "brush your teeth, i ain't tellin' you again."

he tries not to think about it, but that just makes it worse. can't stop imagining you in the arms of some other asshole, what stupid shit they must be doing to flirt with you, how they're making you laugh; just the image of it alone — you, besides some fucking bozo, head thrown back the way you do, laughing louder than you ever did with him — makes his stomach hurt.

it makes him dread the hand-off, too. his house is gonna feel too quiet now, after a week with the little brat, and that's a big enough wound to leave him with nothing to say — but you always try to insist on katsuki finding someone every time you get back out there.

it makes him physically ill, just watching the side of your face as you buckle your son into his car seat, all grins because your house gets to be lively with him.

and when you close the door and turn to him and mutter out your little, "hey, by the way....", he has half a mind to just walk away, right then.

"your son," you start off, lightly punching him in the shoulder. "got into the dryer sheets last week and flushed a whole bunch of them down the toilet."

oh.

"oh," katsuki says, and then he narrows his eyes at his son through the window, even though he's not paying any attention.

(on the nights when the little boy can't sleep, is more emotional than usual, katsuki calls you because that's what your son really wants.)

(very relatable feeling, katsuki thinks.)

"yeah," you smile, "and my coworker's husband is a plumber, so i was able to get it all taken care of. just...thought i would let you know."

katsuki shrugs like he could care less, but you see right through it all, of course. the both of you, mother and son, too understanding for his own good.

almost like you were made for him, like you're supposed to still be his.

"yeah, good," he nods once, glancing over your shoulder to see your son finally sitting up a little bit, peering through the window with his big, sad eyes.

just watching the two of you. just knowing.

#WAAAAHHHH he tries so hard with him 🥺#and it makes your little cutie patootie a little more emotionally intelligent !!!!#which katsuki thinks is a good thing !!! bc he's bad at it LMAOO #i'm sorry i know this isn't exactly what you were probably thinking but akfhkahfakh this is so cute PLEASE HE'S SO UPSET #thinks about it ALL DAY LONG #just to be like....oh hmm ? yeah good. cool. nice.#PFFFFTT LOSER YOU WERE SO AHFHHIAUHUG #cw children #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: dad bakugou #✿ theme: ex husband bakugou

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