#baby boy baby i only want happiness for him

[peppermintquartz]

It's a somber mood in the car as Buck drives home with his boyfriend. They'd been in high spirits too, helping Eddie set up the decorations and encouraging him when he was feeling a little uncertain about the surprise.

Now Buck wishes he hadn't been there to see the way Chris blew off his dad. The pain in Eddie's entire being was broadcast loudly, even if Eddie merely shut the video call down and then grabbed himself a beer afterwards. Tommy went after Eddie and Buck saw them talking in low voices for a bit, and he hopes that Tommy helped, because Buck was - still is - at a loss of words.

It's hard not to feel protective of Eddie, but it's also difficult because it's Christopher inflicting this hurt, and Buck isn't sure how to feel.

"Hey. We tried. Eddie tried. It just wasn't time yet," Tommy ventures, reaching across the console to pat Buck's knee.

Buck sighs. "It's just... It's Chris. Ball of sunshine, always positive, a complete sweetheart Christopher Diaz. I think about that kid and I think about the boy on the screen just now and. They're not the same person."

"Or maybe," Tommy says gently, his big hand still on Buck's thigh, "he's a teenager who is going through a very difficult emotional time and also some challenging physical changes."

"That what you told Eddie?"

"No, I told him that even if Chris isn't receptive now, he'll remember that Eddie tried, and when Chris is feeling less resentful and more forgiving, this will be an important moment." Tommy exhales slowly. "I mean, what I would have given if my father tried half as much as Eddie does to be a good dad."

Buck keeps his eyes on the road. Tommy's wistful tone reminds him that, of the three of them, Tommy is the only one who goes no-contact with his father. Buck hasn't pried. He wants Tommy to share of his own volition.

"I'm glad you were there for Eddie just now," he says instead, because it's true.

Tommy squeezes Buck's thigh gently. "He's my friend too. You know, he can have more than one friend."

"Yeah, some dork with terrible fake mouth static told me that once."

"Medal-worthy fake mouth static, thank you very much."

Buck has to chuckle at that. At the next red light, he picks up Tommy's hand and kisses the knuckles, before looking at his boyfriend straight in the eyes. "You're the best boyfriend."

"Baby, I'm your first boyfriend," Tommy says, eyes crinkling in the corners. "No competition."

Buck is going to retort when the car behind them blasts their horn. With a snort, Buck gets back to driving. "What, you want there to be competition? Not happy to be the first?"

Tommy is silent, but there's a quirk to his lips when Buck steals a glance at him.

"What?" Buck presses.

"Well, I was gonna say something like, no, I want to be the first and the last, but that might be too much." He sounds a little nervous.

There's a little flip in Buck's belly that tells him that, even if it is too much, he kinda likes it. He smiles and takes Tommy's hand, squeezes. "A bit much right now, yeah. But I'm... not opposed to the idea."

Tommy turns his hand over and intertwines their fingers. "Good. That's good."

--

now on AO3

[a-b-riddle]

Runaway Love (kidnapper Price x captive reader)

cw: established kidnapping, violence, intimidation, unplanned pregnancy, miscommunicated threat of forced abortion, eventual Stockholm syndrome, housewife kink. Reader just accepts her situation at this point. Dub-con, non-con.

You couldn't think of anything except the pain that radiated with each step toward your room. You were lucky your work and home were the same place. It was incomprehensible, downright unbelievable how some of the other maids worked their shift and then either walked home or walked to the bus stop.

Granted, most of them weren't pregnant and had shoes that actually fit, but you didn't like to complain. You were lucky to have the job, even if it was back breaking. You had a roof over your head and although the pay was minimal, you were able to buy essentials and save up and with a baby on the way every penny saved counted.

Most importantly, you were free. You were safe and so was the baby. It had been the only reason that after almost a year, you had finally been brave enough to escape. Knowing that it would be hard to rebuild a life from scratch. Knowing that the consequences meant a punishment so severe you could only hope for death.

You had tracked your period religiously. Even with the stress of being held captive by a psycho military Captain, your cycles were fairly normal. So when you were five days off, you knew. In a moment in which you wanted nothing more than to be happy to finally be starting the family you dreamed about having as a little girl, fear enveloped you.

John had never mentioned kids. Only a wife. Someone to be at home waiting for him. Keeping the house in order and his bed warm while he was away.

All I need is you and the boys, Birdie. What more could a man want?

You considered telling him. Hoping that he would be as happy as you wanted to be. Yet anytime you came close to telling him over the next two weeks, horrible thoughts raced through your mind. What if he was angry? What if he blamed you even though he practically took you whenever he pleased? How would he terminate the pregnancy or would he be content in letting you give birth without any medical intervention and simply get rid of the baby after?

Would he just get rid of you altogether?

It was like the universe was telling you to run when shortly after you decided that telling him wasn't the answer, that he told you he was going on a mission. Won't be back for a couple of weeks. Sent the boys to pick up anything you'll need. I know you'll be good for me.

You had been good. For that last six months, you had behaved. Didn't pull away from his touch or put up a fuss. You lived in the epitome of domestic bliss, so John had no reason to send you down to the basement. Not when you had so many opportunities to try to escape and you didn't.

Granted, he had threatened to break your legs during your first and last stunt. You had been in the basement for three weeks. Living in near darkness as he brought all of your meals. You had been upstairs for about twenty minutes and barely made it to the door before he tackled you. Pinning you to the ground, breath hot against the back of your neck as he hissed in your ear. Ungrateful little brat.

Your apologies fell on deaf ears as he hauled you back down where you would stay for six weeks.

For months you built the relationship on a lie. A lie John deluded himself into believing. Anytime he told you he loved you, you repeated the words back. Wanting to scrub your body raw anytime he touched you and hating yourself anytime he made you come.

But it had been worth it. You were four months along, and given your ill-fitted clothes, not really showing, but knowing that in another five months you would be holding the baby you always wanted. A baby that you had went through hell for. Seeing his or her face for the first time, being their mom would be worth it.

You kept all of the lights off. It was a request of the motel owners to reduce their bills. So even if it was early December and you knew you would be walking back to a freezing room, they didn't give a shit. In truth, they were doing you a favor only charging you $400 in rent with unlimited access to their laundry services. You suppose having the pity of others did have its perks.

You hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights before pulling your shoes off your feet and plopping down on the bed. The grit and grim still felt thick on your skin, but you couldn't find the energy to care. You would shower and get on a fresh set of clothes you had gotten from the shelter when you first made it into the city, but for now you needed a moment. Just a few minutes to decompress.

A few minutes turned into five and then ten. Before you knew it, you had been laying in the bed floating in and out of consciousness for almost twenty minutes. You knew you needed to get up. Wash away the grime of the day that had settled on your skin. Your clothes smelling faintly of bleach.

Fuck you were tired.

You were always tired.

You got up and made your way to the bathroom, barely keeping your eyes opened. Not confident enough you would actually be able to take a shower without wanting to lay down in the tub and let all the strain of the day go down the train.

It's funny how the human body can make us teeter on the edge of sleep. We imagine things that may or not be there. But when you heard it, when you heard that voice coming from the corner of you room, you knew you weren't imagining anything.

"Wonderin' when you'd wake up."

[boowritess]

i love love love the headcanon of the 141 not having kids and babies and ewey.

i think that john price is still very relevant to that. kinda. i don't really seeing him having a pet honestly. unless you wanted one... sure... but nah y'know... he's old tired af. maybe a cat. probably definitely a cat.

but it's been you and john for as long as you can remember.

happy to be in each other's presence from morning to night, or simply just exist in a shared life that means you two don't have to always be around each other.

you could be shopping and he could be sleeping. he's outside tending to the stuff he had supposed to finish before he left deployment while you're reading on the couch inside. he's on a long deployment again, and you're at work.

plus the prospect of kids just never seemed to work into the schedule. "nah," john says to one of your friends, "can handle kids fine, but when i'm home, this old mans bones are good for sleep and not much else. i mean the breeding kink can get me goi-" john grunts when you elbow into his side.

"crude." you huff with an eyeroll.

"but true." he says into his beer as he takes a sip, eyes sparking with mischief.

your friend turns to you. "but doesn't it get lonely?" they asks. "wouldn't you want a little one running around?"

and well sometimes the days may be lonely for you when he's gone...

but that's become impossibly hard to focus on when your phone is being constantly blown up - not by price though. by the 141.

it's never really anything outrages or civil conversation. it's gaz asking which tie he should wear at an event because price said the black one but gaz doesn't really like the black one. then it's johnny sending you a video of him besting his previous time on a training course. though it doesn't stop there. ghost is messaging late nights for him but mid-day for you, asking about how to deal with insomnia. ghost is asking you because he knows you're awake and the others are asleep, he doesn't want to bother them.

you answer every single one, with so much care and attentiveness. you save every picture, every video and boost about their achievements to other people as if they were your own. however, people always assume you're talking about little kids not grown ass men.

yet on days when you're at home or you've come home from work. you're hardly surprised to find one of them had invited themselves into yours and johns home as if it was their own.

sometimes it's gaz crashed out on the couch who's in a desperate need of a shower but definitely needs sleep more.

or the sounds of soap in your fridge, raking around to find something to eat. "lass, ye out of cheese-" he ate the cheese. the whole newly bought block of it.

gaz and soap like to hover around you when they're home. whereas ghost helps price around the house.

but when it's just you and ghost, the oldest boy. it's quiet. there's no forced conversations but probably a few shitty jokes. it's you or him making food and the other doing the dishes. yet ghost opens up and the conversations turn into some of the most randomist, boyish, silly conversations.

when everyone's at home, it can actually be pretty hectic. so you go do the grocery shopping, but you take ghost along cause he's a little like you in regard for a need of quiet time.

oh and can't forget the days you go out by yourself only to come home with a few other things. socks for john - socks for all of them. you bought johnny a new pair of jeans and gaz a couple of shirts. and simon some more sweaters.

christmas, easter, new years - every single holiday is always hosted at yours and price. where everyone comes. farah, alex, laswell and her wife. rudy and alejandro making their way- then of course your boys...

and it's there where you've kinda realized.

you and john do have kids.

just in the form of grown men.

which both you and john don't seem to mind.

you end up shrugging your shoulders as you look at your friend, "honestly i have my hands full when they're all home. so... i'm good." you say with a hum, sipping from your own drink with a small smile as john just chuckles softly.

a/n: realized I never posted this. oh well. the no baby saga continues with john price. drink water be well ya'll xx

[lovepeachh]

Chair.

Jason Todd x plus size! reader smut

In which Jason is the chair.

or

In which you aren't too heavy to sit on your bf's face after all.

Warnings: 18+ content, unprotected oral sex, cunnilingus, face sitting, use of the word fat (internal dialogue, not in a negative way, it's just that I, as a plus size woman, use that word and if that upsets you I get it, don't read but i refuse to let this be another 'you're not fat, you're beautiful, let me dick you down to show you that you're not fat and ugly' fic, because fat and beautiful are not exclusive terms. I love you, and I love how you look. You're beautiful, and it's not in spite of your body.)

Dividers from here

A.N.: Sorry for not writing recently, things have been a little wild. I had a concussion, a tropical storm came, both my sisters totalled their cars, got my wisdom teeth out, and now another hurricane is on the way. Anyway, here's some smut.

"Babe, there's no way I'm doing that, I'll hurt you. I'm too heavy." It wasn't that you were self conscious of your weight or anything, but you didn't exactly want Jason to die again, this time because of you and your fat girl pussy.

He raises an eyebrow at you, as if to say 'So you think I'm weak?'

"Baby, don't give me that, I'm a big boy."

"Well I'm a big girl and I'm not gonna suffocate you or break your neck."

"I mean, it's a lot better than how I went out the first time."

A silence.

"Not funny."

He sits you on his lap.

"Come on sweetie, we can just try it. And I'll tap your thigh three times if I need air or for you to get up for any reason. Scout's honor."

You roll your eyes. "You were never a scout."

"Eh, I was a robin. Close enough. Please?"

"Ugh fine. I'll sit on your face. Happy?"

It's a matter of minutes before he rips off your clothes and pulls you right on top of his face, eating you out like a starving man at a Thanksgiving buffet.

Goddamn. He was good at this.

He hooks his arms around your thighs and holds you in place while he laps at you until you writhe and squirm.

"Jay!"

You're not quite sure if the sound leaving his mouth is a laugh or a moan, but the vibration has.you seeing stars.

He laps and sucks at you as you near the edge.

"Ah-!"

All thoughts of being too heavy leave your mind. Because this man wants it bad. And he's tongue fucking you too good for you to think straight.

Your hips buck as he licks into you over and and over until you're coming all over his desperate face.

He laps up your release and keeps stimulating your abused cunt until you start to tremble. Then he releases you.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and presses a sticky kiss to your cheek.

"Still think you're too heavy?" he asks.

"Not for you." .

He laughs. "So we can do this again?"

You roll your eyes. "You're such a whore."

He kisses you. "Only for you, sweetheart."

You won't be doubting him again anytime soon. After all, what's a bit of fat when your boyfriend is built like a literal tank.

You shift in his arms, feeling something against your leg.

Oh.

"Care to help me out with that, sweetheart?"

[tk-duveraun]

I gotta make my own food around here. No one helps in this kitchen

SY transmigrates early, system beta test or something, does the wandering cultivator thing for a few decades, realizes the strays he picked up have formed a sect and he's the leader and no he doesn't get a choice in the matter

In terms of most powerful cultivators, SY is #10 in the cultivation world, but his sect is seen very poorly because, well, it's made up of strays and he encourages any noble kids to go to HHP because he needs to save his resources for kids who need him

Yue Qi and Shen Jiu get picked up by one of SY's staples and brought in. Their potential is insane and after a little training and researching current events he's pretty sure this "Yue" and "Shen" belong in CQM.

But it's already been 3 years. The boys aren't interested in sex yet, but they have been mommy-wife beamed thoroughly and fight him when he tells them he's made special arrangements with the CQM sect leader to accept them

He pulls the whole "Don't you want to be strong?" Schtick and they are not happy, but they are children and easily carried by a cultivator of his caliber

Shen Jiu swears revenge and SY breathes a sigh of relief that things are finally back on track.

But he misses them and tries to lose himself in traveling and oh no, this poor demonic snake is injured! (Fully juiced up by TLJ zzl just took snake form to lick his wounds more safely bc he's in the human realm) Zzl is fully prepared to transform and eat SY whole, but instead sy is very very gentle, asks permission before touching and coaxes the injured Zzl to last in the warm inside of his arm within his sleeve.

Sadly, Zzl has duties to his lord once he's healed, but he'll be back for this cultivator. Blah blah, plot happens, SY scoops up baby bingy (and the washer woman) and plants them in his sect, intending to send LBH off to CQM at the appropriate time.

He realizes his interference might have made SJ less of an asshole in general, but he DID swear revenge so maybe that's the angle the abuse will take.

Joke's on him, the first thing YQY does when the Qing generation steps up is strong arm SY into an alliance marriage. Shen Jiu becomes first wife.

(YQY isn't legally married for political reasons, but as SJ explains while dragging him into the marital bed, they are a set)

Zzl actively seeks SY out for help with TLJ and while SY can't do anything about that, he fishes up a plot amulet that gives Zzl free shapeshifting.

Zzl insists marriage is the only way to repay SY (tlj's advice) and eventually SY caves.

Wife count: 3

LQG has never met SY but heard rumors about him being a celestial fairy or wherever, so he's concerned SJ is treating him poorly and follows SJ to his marital sect. He catches SY on the way out to hunt some great beast

Wife count: 4

[merrybloomwrites]

The Only Way of Knowing You (Chapter 1)

Story Summary: After a chance encounter, Y/N finds herself on a series of dates with Harry Styles. She shares with him her innocence regarding physical intimacy, and he takes his responsibility in teaching her all about that very seriously.

Chapter Summary: Y/N is overjoyed to head to the hospital to meet her new nephew, and ends up meeting Harry Styles as well.

Word Count: 1.7K

CW: mentions of people giving birth

AN: So excited to finally post this series! I've really enjoyed writing this and hope you'll all like it. Thank you to the anon who requested shy virgin reader!

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You’re anxiously waiting to get a text or a call from your brother-in-law. You’d spoken to your sister yesterday morning and she mentioned that she felt like she was having contractions and would probably be in labor soon. So casually! You figured that since this is her second baby she must be feeling more relaxed about the whole situation.

But that doesn’t stop you from worrying about her for the whole day and a half between that call and when your phone finally rings again, Brian’s name appearing on the screen. He’d been sending regular updates to you and your parents and the last one sent almost two hours ago just said “it’s time”. 

So this call must mean your new nephew is finally born. You quickly grab the phone and answer the call. 

“Brian, hi!”

“He’s here!” He exclaims. “Born at 1:35, 7 pounds, 2 ounces, 21 and a half inches long.”

“How is he doing? How is Kyra?” 

“He’s perfect! Kyra did great, she’s resting at the moment. We'll send a picture soon. She asked that no one come this afternoon but we’d love for you to stop by tomorrow. Your parents are coming in the morning and bringing Wyatt to meet her little brother.”

“Ok great! I’ll talk to them and coordinate what time.”

“Awesome, you’re gonna love him! Listen I’ve got a couple more calls and I want to get back to them but I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Brian, give Kyra my love!”

“Will do, bye Y/N.”

You hang up and literally squeal with excitement and relief that he’s here and everyone is doing well. You let out another happy noise when you get a couple pictures from Brian. You’re immediately in love with this little boy, even if he looks like an alien/old man hybrid. You wish you knew his name, but your sister made it clear she is keeping it a secret until you and your parents meet him in person. 

At 8PM your mom calls and you figure they just got Wyatt to sleep. You talk for a bit and make plans to all meet at the hospital the following morning at 11. 

You’re so excited that it’s nearly impossible to fall asleep, but you manage. The next morning passes quickly, and suddenly it’s time to head to the hospital. 

Once there you find your parents and your niece signing in and you do so as well. Finally, the four of you make your way to the right room. Just like when you met Wyatt nearly three years prior, you immediately fall in love with this little baby the second he’s placed in your arms. 

“Everyone, meet Jasper Lucas,” your sister says. 

For half an hour you all get to spend time with Jasper as well as check in on Kyra, who truthfully looks fantastic for having just given birth the day before. You and your parents step out in order to give the family of four some time together. 

Your mom comments that she could use a coffee and your dad hastily agrees so they head off to the cafeteria. You figure they must not be used to taking care of a toddler and decide to go over and help out that evening. 

They ask if you want anything and you decline, choosing to instead go into one of the family waiting rooms and check on a project for work. 

The room is empty when you enter but after a minute you hear footsteps. Looking up from your phone, you’re shocked to see who just walked in.

Harry Styles casually sits in one of the other chairs. You subtly glance at him, noting his jeans and sweater combo, as well as the look of pure excitement on his face. After pointedly looking anywhere but at him for a moment you can't help but turn towards him again.

“Hi!” he says cheerfully when he notices you looking at him. 

“Hello,” you manage to squeak out. 

“I’m Harry,” he says, leaning towards you with his hand out.

“I’m Y/N,” you reply while politely shaking his hand, hoping you’re doing it right. Which is wild because you;ve shaken hands with people hundreds of times but like, this is Harry Styles. 

“My sisters just had a baby,” he adds, and now you understand why he’s practically vibrating with glee. 

“Congratulations! Mine has as well. Is this Gemma’s first?” You realize a second later how creepy you now sound, using his sister's name when he hadn’t even told it to you. 

Before you can apologize he laughs and says, “Yes, her first. So you know who I am then?”

“I mean, I don’t live under a rock so yes, I am aware that you’re Harry Styles.” 

“Can you do me a favor then, love?” 

You nod, willing to do anything he asks, especially if he continues to use such sweet terms of endearment like ‘love’.

“Gems kept this whole pregnancy private, and isn’t planning to announce she’s had a baby for a few weeks. I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I just had to tell someone. Can you help keep this a secret and not let anyone know about the baby?”

“Oh of course, yea, secret’s safe with me.”

“I appreciate it. We may be adults now, but I think I’ll always fear the wrath of my big sister,” he says with another laugh. “Is this your sister's first as well?” he asks.

“No, I have a niece, Wyatt, she turns three next month,” you reply.

“And this little one, boy or girl?”

“Boy. His name is Jasper. My sister always said she wanted one girl and one boy so I guess she got her wish.” 

You refrain from asking him the same question, not wanting to look like you're asking for personal information about his family, but he apparently doesn’t feel that way because he says, “Gemma had a girl. The tiniest little thing. I think. At least she looks that way in the picture.”

“You haven’t been able to see them yet?”

“Not quite, they needed a few more minutes before they were ready. Our mum’s in there with her, has been the whole time, so I’ve been anxiously waiting on my own.

“I feel that. I was the same way the past couple of days.”

“Well at least we have each other now, I feel much less jittery being able to talk to you,” he says.

“Glad I could help. People say I’m an excellent conversationalist.”

“Oh I can see that already, I’m quite enjoying this conversation.”

Just then Harry’s mum, Anne, walks into the room.

“Harry dear, they’re ready for you,” she says, giving you a quick smile before she walks out again.

He jumps out of his seat and says, “Sorry to cut it short, but-”

“Not a problem! Go, meet your niece. Bet she’ll be very happy to meet her Uncle Harry,” you reply.

“Would you want to keep talking? Later?”

You look at him, confused. “I’m not sure how long I’m going to be at the hospital.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean here. I just meant, maybe we could meet again, some other time. At some other place. Preferably with better coffee.”

“Are you asking me to hang out with you at a coffee shop?” you inquire, wanting to make sure you fully understand what is happening.

“I am. Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve actually asked someone on a date, guess I’m a tad rusty.”

Your eyes go wide at the word ‘date’. You were already perplexed, wondering why he’d want to hang out with you as friends, but making it a date? 

Your mouth works faster than your brain, and before you can really think through your answer, you hear yourself saying, “I’d love to get coffee with you.”

“Fantastic! Here, write your number in my phone and I’ll text you to set something up,” he replies while unlocking and handing over his phone. You’re practically on autopilot typing in your info and handing the phone back to him.

“I should go, I’ve got a niece to meet. It really was lovely chatting with you.”

“I agree. Say congrats to your sister for me!”

“I will, please say the same to your sister.”

“Of course,” you reply.

“Goodbye Y/N. I’ll talk to you soon.

“Looking forward to it. Goodbye Harry.”

With one last shy smile, he walks out of the room, leaving you standing there feeling rather shell shocked. You don’t have long to dwell before your own mother pops back in saying Kyra is ready for you all to go back.

You spend another hour there before leaving to go out and get some lunch. While you’re at a local restaurant, trying to encourage Wyatt to eat her lunch rather than play with it, you get a text from Brian saying Kyra and the baby will be discharged later that afternoon.

After lunch you go to their house and entertain Wyatt while your parents make sure everything is clean and ready for them to come home. Brian, Kyra, and Jasper arrive just before dinner, so you stay to make sure everyone eats and is as content as possible. 

You leave after cleaning the dishes, knowing everyone is ready to settle down for the evening. Back home you hop in the shower, and when you get out, you have a text from an unknown number. It reads, “Hello, Y/N, it’s Harry.”

Your eyes go wide and you let out a nervous giggle. Honestly, there’s a part of you that thought you had hallucinated the interaction this afternoon, but here’s proof that it all really happened. Before you can type back you get another message from him saying, “If you’re not busy, how would you feel about getting coffee this Saturday? Say 1PM at Inkwell Cafe?”

“Sounds perfect,” you reply. Your phone dings again a second later and you read, “See you then! Have a great rest of your week.” After sending a quick “You as well!” you toss your phone to the side. 

You get into bed, and reflect for a moment on everything that happened since getting up that morning. You knew it’d be a wonderful day; how could it not when you got to finally meet your perfect nephew?

But to have met one of your favorite celebrities and now have a date with him? Never in a million years would you have guessed the day would end this way. You fall asleep feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! I hoped you liked this chapter and can't wait to share the rest!

[mywritersmind]

DRUNK THOUGHTS - LN4

summary : He’s drunk and on a dock, nothing can go wrong. Except maybe him confessing his love to his taken best friend.

listen up : drunk lando! reader has a bf but no cheating involved!! maybe a pt.2 but prob not? i’ve kinda been unmotivated but if u have ideas my requests are open!

word count : 653

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I find him on a dock, his arm touching the water and his body laying down to face the stars.

I wobble down the wooden path, taking my heels off and pulling my dress down a bit. I’ve been drinking and dancing all night, yet my experience doesn’t even come close to Lando’s night.

He turns his head when he hears my footsteps, “Wanted to make sure you were still alive.” I look at his body, he’s in baby blue pants and a half undone shirt.

I left my boyfriend who was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes to come check on him, feeling a bit tipsy and more than happy to be alone with him.

“Y/n!” He grins and points at me, yup he’s definitely drank more than me, “Hi!”

I laugh and squat next to him, “Hi Lan. Fun night?”

“Oh definitely!” he giggles, his hand patting the place next to him. I sigh and lay down, looking up at the night sky. “You?”

“Very fun.” He’s looking at me still, I glance to him, a curl fallen into his face and his eyes are all soft and shaded from the lack of light.

It’s almost unfair, how beautiful he is.

“I like your dress!” He smiles, his hand gently running against the hem of it. It’s small and black and his touch makes goosebumps run through me.

“I like your necklace.” I reach over and run my fingers over his logo, “Very nice.”

“Would be nicer on you.” Lando’s always like this. Drunk or not, he’s a flirt.

“Ya think?”

“I know.” He looks back up like it’s nothing, “Would be even nicer if it was the only thing you were wearing.” the words come out so quick and easy that I almost think I hallucinated them. Lando’s flirty, sure, but my boyfriend is almost always around so he doesn’t mess around too much.

Apparently drunk him does.

I practically choke, “Oh?”

His head turns to me again, his eyes roaming my features, “You're so pretty.” He says softly, “Like really reallyyyy gorgeously you.”

“I- thank you?”

“Everyone thinks it. All the guys who stare at you but they don’t get it. Not even your lover boy.” He shakes his head matter of factly, “No no no. I do. I hate those guys.”

“What guys?” I laugh.

“You do not have very good vision.” He smacks his lips together, “Everyone looks.”

I laugh, honestly thinking he’s joking, “They’re always looking at you- the famous one.”

He shakes his head again, adamant I'm wrong, “No no pretty. They don’t give a nothing about me.”

“I think you do pretty well.” I raise a brow, “You were basically followed by a group of girls down here.” I’m not sure where they went but they were fawning over Lando.

He shrugs, “Bachelorette party. It’s basically my job.” I laugh and he looks offended that I did, “I wish you followed me.”

Suddenly his words aren’t funny anymore.

“But your bloody boy…” He makes a disgusted face, I thought he didn’t mind him. “Bleh. You’re better.”

“I didn’t know you disliked him.”

“Why would I like the bloke who’s in love with the girl I'm in love with?” His casual tone strikes again, this time stabbing me through the heart. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends. I thought my own feelings had gone long before this trip- before my boyfriend!

I can’t fancy Lando and he cannot be in love with me.

“You’re so drunk.” I laugh it off but he just stares at me. He doesn’t seem to know that he just said he loves me.

“Drunk words are-”

“Sober thoughts.” I finish for him, His body shifting to lay on his stomach, an arm across my waist. “Yeah I know.”

“You always understand me.” He whispers and it breaks me in two. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get you back, Lan.”

[librababe99]

Happy Birthday, Baby

cw: MDNI, 18+ Only, Dick Grayson, Fem!Reader, Established Relationship, fluff, Suggestive Themes Summary: After a long night of patrol, Dick wakes up to his girlfriend surprising him with breakfast in bed and a special birthday surprise. wc: 1.1K

request:  Imagine after an extra tired patrol night, on his birthday, Dick was woken up to see a freshly made breakfast in his bed, his gorgeous fem!reader wearing nothing but his nightwing hoodie (like srsly, nothing underneath except something 😏 for the latter surprise gift *wink wink*) blessing his face with kisses, murmuring "happy birthday my handsome man" ✨️

A/N: @animegirlfromvietnam this is for you! I accidentally messed up earlier when I posted 😅

The sun filtered through the curtains in soft, golden beams, gently illuminating the bedroom where Dick lay sprawled out, tangled in the sheets. He had come home late from patrol—way too late—and his body was clearly feeling the aftermath. Every muscle in his body ached, but the heavy weight of exhaustion had finally allowed him to slip into a deep sleep. His dark hair was tousled against the pillow, and his face looked more relaxed than usual—completely at peace for once.

That peace, however, was about to be interrupted in the best way possible.

You stood in the doorway, a soft smile playing at your lips as you carried a tray loaded with a perfectly made breakfast: eggs, toast, bacon, and a steaming cup of coffee. You'd made it exactly how he liked it—after all, today was special. His birthday.

Approaching the bed quietly, you set the tray down on the nightstand and took a moment to gaze down at him. Even disheveled, with his hair a mess and the barest hint of stubble along his jaw, Dick looked as handsome as ever. Your heart fluttered at the sight, a warmth spreading through your chest. You leaned down slowly, brushing a soft kiss along his forehead.

"Mmm..." He stirred slightly, shifting beneath the sheets but not quite waking. You couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

Trailing your lips down to his cheek, you whispered softly against his skin. "Happy Birthday, baby."

At the sound of your voice, his eyes fluttered open. The familiar warmth of his blue eyes greeted you as he blinked a few times, trying to shake off the haze of sleep. He stretched, letting out a small groan, and turned his head to look up at you. A slow, lazy smile spread across his face as soon as he saw you.

“Hey, you,” he rasped, voice still gravelly with sleep. “What’s all this?”

You straightened up, gesturing to the tray of breakfast sitting beside him. “Just a little something for the birthday boy. I thought you’d like to start your day off with something nice since you had such a long night.”

Dick sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at the spread you’d made. “You didn’t have to do this, you know…” He was touched, though; it was obvious in his expression.

“I wanted to.” You shrugged, leaning over to peck his lips softly. “You deserve it.”

Dick returned the kiss, lingering a little longer before pulling back, his eyes sweeping over you. It was then he noticed what you were wearing—his Nightwing hoodie, oversized on your frame. The familiar blue bird emblem stretched across the chest, though it clearly hung loose around you. His gaze darkened slightly with appreciation.

“Is that… my hoodie?” He arched a brow, his smile turning a little more mischievous now.

You bit your lip, fighting back a smirk. “Might be…” you teased, twirling a strand of hair between your fingers. “Thought I’d borrow it for a bit. Looks good on me, right?”

His eyes flicked over you again, slower this time, as if he were piecing something together. The hoodie was large enough that it covered most of you, but there was something in the way it fell… something that made his lips twitch upward into an intrigued smirk.

“Looks better on you than it ever did on me,” he murmured, reaching out to run a hand over your thigh beneath the fabric. His touch was warm and gentle, but there was a spark behind his eyes now. “But… is there anything underneath this hoodie?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the question, but you kept your composure, flashing him an innocent smile. “Why don’t you eat your breakfast first, birthday boy? You’ll need your energy for later…”

His smirk deepened. “Is that right?”

“Mhmm.” You leaned down again, this time brushing your lips over the spot just below his ear, trailing soft kisses down the line of his jaw, before whispering, “You’ve got a present waiting for you underneath this hoodie… but only if you finish your breakfast like a good boy.”

Dick chuckled, low and warm, the sound sending a shiver through you. “Now that’s motivation,” he murmured, his hand sliding further up your thigh, teasingly close to bare skin. His thumb traced lazy circles, and his gaze locked onto yours with a hunger that made your pulse quicken.

You pulled back just before his hand could venture too far, shooting him a wink. “Food first,” you reminded him, though your voice was a little breathier than intended.

Reluctantly, he turned his attention back to the tray of food beside him, picking up the fork with a knowing smirk on his face. “You drive a hard bargain,” he teased, but there was a glint in his eye that promised this meal wouldn’t take long.

You sat back on the bed, watching as he began to eat, savoring the sight of him. There was a tension hanging in the air now—delicious and electric—building with each passing second. You could see the gears turning in his head, already plotting what was going to happen once that plate was cleared. Every bite he took was slow, deliberate, and you could tell he was enjoying drawing this out just to mess with you.

But that was fine. Two could play at that game.

Leaning back against the pillows, you stretched out, giving him a tantalizing view of your legs as they peeked out from beneath the hoodie. His eyes flicked toward you, and you could see his focus wavering.

The moment he set the empty plate aside, you grinned, leaning forward again to straddle his lap. His hands instinctively went to your hips, the warmth of his touch seeping through the thin fabric. You tilted your head, bringing your lips close to his, but keeping just enough distance to make him chase you.

“I love you, Dick” you whispered against his lips, your fingers playing with the hem of the hoodie.

His grip on your hips tightened, and his breath hitched slightly as you tugged the fabric up, revealing a glimpse of smooth, bare skin beneath.

“I love you too,” he murmured before capturing your lips in a heated kiss, his hands roaming under the hoodie, exploring every inch of skin he could reach. And as the kiss deepened, all thoughts of breakfast and sleep disappeared, replaced by something far more enticing—something that neither of you had any intention of rushing through.

The day had only just begun, but you knew it was going to be a long, very satisfying one.

And you couldn’t wait.

[patkinmon]

Ok, so I didn't want to make a post but I really am getting annoyed with the hate this fandom is giving to Helena Diaz and Tommy Kinnard. Like either some people are blind or just don't have grandparents: Helena doesn't take Chris from Eddie!! It was Christopher's decision to go with his grandparents to Texas. He needed the distance from Eddie because he was hurt by what Eddie did. Helena and Ramon just respected his choice and so did Eddie. Of course Eddie is hurting and I feel bad seeing him suffer, but no one can undo what's been done. This is something that only Chris and Eddie can fix over time. Helena doesn't keep Chris from Eddie. Why would she set a Computer up so that Eddie can talk to Chris? If she was against it, she could have just refused. And for the people who say that she is to hard on Eddie and he was her baby first: You do realize that grandparents are way more leniant with their grandchildren than with their kids? That's because the don't have to raise them. My grandma is always more strict with my mother and expects more from her than from me, because she knows she raised my mam that way. So please cut the woman some slack, she is trying her best to keep the connection between Eddie and Chris.

And on the topic of Tommy: have you seen how happy he makes Buck? As of now, I haven't seen a single instance where he was inappropriate towards Buck. He respects his boundaries, flirts with him and always asks if something is ok, before doing it. I get that a lot of people want Buddie (me included) but if that really never happens I want my boys to be happy either way. So far Tommy is doing a good job with that, so stop saying he is bad for Buck. It's simply untrue.

The negativity makes the fandom sometimes so toxic and it's not as much fun to be here as it used to so please focus on some good parts

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in Sept 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #66 |  ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis / Harry -

🩵 Better is the End by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(M, 26k, Greek mythology) Louis stands at the entrance to the labyrinth, and knows that this is the end. No one escapes from the labyrinth. No one can defeat the monster inside and make it back out alive.

🩵 Sugar, Sugar by @parmahamlarrie

(E, 25k, sugar daddy Louis) Meeting your soulmate was the most joyous event of one’s life… or at least, it’s supposed to be. Harry, in all of his 25 year old wisdom, was suspicious of the role fate plays in everyone's lives. He'd rather focus his time dating older men he meets off of a sugar baby website.

🩵 Break (Up)? Coming Right Up! by The_Halcyonic_Lachesist / @chai-hat-tea

(M, 14k, breakup) Louis promised Harry that they would always be together, but when Harry's dreams get in the way, will Louis be able to keep his word?

🩵 Like A Miracle by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel

(M, 12k, established relationship) Louis thinks he finally knows what it feels like to be truly nervous now that he has one very important question to ask his boyfriend. Part 4 of Marcel series

🩵 touch me baby, put your lips on mine by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 12k, pwp) the soft and sweet sex party fic with a dash of dom/sub dynamics and a LOT of public sex.

🩵 Smells Like TEAM Spirit by @persephoneflouwers

(NR, 10k, high school) Punk Louis and quarterback Harry have been secretly dating for years. Feeling overwhelmed by his commitments, Harry suggests a short break, fearing he can't give Louis enough time. As Louis reflects on his vulnerabilities, Harry struggles on the field without him.

🩵 This Ain't Red Wine by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 9k, supernatural) the one where Human Louis accidentally finds himself at a Vampire only party which actually turns out to maybe not be the worst thing

🩵 Haunting Beauty by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

(G, 6k, ghost Louis) It’s 1988. Harry has just finished his first year of teaching English and looks forward to a relaxed break. Louis is a poltergeist and has different plans for Harry’s summer.

🩵 Good-Old Fashioned Lover Boy by not_fitzwilliam / @not-fitzwilliam-darcy

(NR, 5k, omegaverse) When a miscalculated decision leads to an accidental courtship with the sweetest, most gentle alpha, Harry is torn between breaking the alpha's heart and telling the truth. 

🩵 we could be enough by @hellolovers13

(M, 5k, omegaverse) Louis never imagined anyone could love him for who he truly is. Then he meets Harry.

🩵 Only Angel by starryhaze / @starryhaze28

(E, 5k, pwp) the one where Louis is in Japan and stumbles upon a boy wearing angel wings

🩵 this cage was once just fine by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(T, 3k, uni) the one where Harry pines for Louis

🩵 A Tight Space by @haztobegood

(T, 2k, shapeshifter curse) Louis startles with a hand to his chest. “What the fuck was that?” “Oh, that’s the cat. I told you Liam found a stray a few days ago. That’s him.” “Are you sure that’s a cat?”

🩵 The Wilds - Timestamps by @jaerie

(E, 2k, omegaverse) The fact of the matter was that they were still bonded. And since they were just like any other bonded pair, Louis really wanted his knot. Part 3 of The Wilds

🩵 we could be the greatest team by 5sexualhomos / @hogwartzlou

(G, 1k, friends to lovers) Imagine your OTP accidentally and unofficially moving in together. Bonus points if they aren't dating at the beginning.

🩵 Singing Like a Bird 'Bout It Now by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(G, 1k, meet cute) Dr. Louis Tomlinson is worn to the bone, but only has a few patients left before the end of the day. One of those appointments takes quite a few twists and turns.

🩵 The Ball Guy by @homosociallyyours

(T, 1k, humor) Harry is an unpaid intern on his first film set, and he's pretty excited to see that his number one celebrity crush, Louis Tomlinson, will be a part of the movie. He's on the call sheet for the day, followed by a very odd addition: a ball guy?

🩵 Wordplay 2024 (series) by @kingsofeverything

Nest (G, 100 words) Harry wakes up first. Tight (NR, 100 words) Louis comes home early. Carry (NR, 100 words) Baby bump. Press (E, 100 words) Louis asks for it. Interference (G, 100 words) Bottom of the ninth.

- Rare Pairs -

🩵 circling the truth by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 3k, Liam/Louis) Liam Payne has met his soulmate. He knows he has, because he woke up with his power this morning.

🩵 'Cause What I Want Came True by @lululawrence

(NR, 1k, Louis/Diego Luna) He’d known Diego was attractive, the few photos he had shared on the dating app had made that clear, but there was something about seeing him in person that made him feel… more.

[goquokka00]

Stray Kids on Weed

The Lee Know Strain In which the love of their life smokes the mary jane, and they give it a shot for the first time...

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

A Few Notes: This is purely just supposed to be funny and a joke. I've also never been high and while I am friends with those who have either tried weed or do weed on the regular, I only know so much. So please just bear with me and have a good laugh, okay? Okay. Love you guys ❤️❤️❤️

So I have this gut feeling that Minho's first experience with weed would be with an edible. Seeing as he loves cooking and all, and is also just scared that he could potentially fuck up his lungs if he did actually smoke, I feel like this would probably be the way that he would combat that.

It's not often that you bring home edibles, but when you do, Minho asks to try it. And surprise surprise, nothing happens at first. Why? Because it's an edible. Minho thought you were scamming him when he didn't feel anything happen in his system, but it all changed about 45 minutes later.

Stupid idiot.

That's what he got for not listening to you when you tried to explain that edibles take longer to kick in since you have to let the food and weed actually digest in your stomach. Maybe next time, he'll learn to listen to you and not claim that he had beaten god.

Now, once this high kicks in, I see Minho doing a complete and total 180 in his mood. He goes from having this cocky, cold, mischievous and honestly just closed off personality to being the most cuddly, happy, giggly, softest best boi you've ever met in your life.

He smiles more than you've ever seen in your entire life, he GIVES hugs instead of tolerating them and plotting your murder once you have him in your arms (Bangchan is lowkey jealous when he hears about that), he talks about how much he loves and appreciates his members, and even states that he cares for Hyunjin a lot more than he usually lets off.

Course, when you told him what he said once he was sober again, he threatened you that if you told anyone he'd air fry you until you were burnt. Ah, he's so in love with you...

I also have this sneaky suspicion that Minho would want to do things that he really shouldn't do when high. Things such as going to the gym, going out in public because he's an idol and if anyone saw him high he could be in a shit ton of trouble, cook, go and practice dance routines...y'know. The typical Minho stuff.

He'd go on and on and try to reassure you that he was fine, and that he wasn't that far gone. In reality, this poor baby can't even figure out how to zip up his coat.

Now do I think Minho would give weed more chances in the future? Maybe on very special occasions like after parties, but I really don't see him using it often. I think him finding out about how he gets really makes him worry about actually admitting to the fact that him and Jisung do, in fact, have a secret relationship and that he's his one true love. That, or the fact that he secretly wants to have a polyamorous relationship with both you and Jisung.

God only knows at this point.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

[star-reaper]

Dean Winchester x Reader One-shot/Drabble

Anniversary

Synopsis: It's your first anniversary. He's supposed to be here. You're embarrassed, you're anxious, you're hurt. You're tired of not feeling like a priority to him. The entire walk home in the pouring rain has you thinking the worst, but what you find in your apartment is not what you had expected.

Hurt/Comfort, angst + major fluff, happy ending, fem!reader, pre s1 Dean, descriptions of injury, blood, typical canon violence

You're pissed. More than that, you're seething.

The embarrassment has twisted into white hot rage and the blood rushing through your body sends your heels tapping away erratically on the tiled floor of the restaurant, knee bobbing up and down and sticking to the leather seat.

The waitress has come back four times in the hour and ten you'd been there waiting, your glass of water anxiously sucked down and replaced with a sickly sweet mai tai twice. She glances up at you from the hostess booth every few minutes, pity practically seeping from her expression each time she does and still doesn't see your date with you.

Everyone knows you've been stood up. Guests around you peer over nosily, sneering. Or even glare at the loud fidgeting you're managing in the cozy corner booth of the facility. It's a nice place, you were so excited to finally try it out with Dean, immediately suggesting it when you two had planned this celebration a month ago. You'd eyed it every day on your walk home from the University you attended, it's classy appeal and crimson red walls practically glowing on the other side of the street, soft jazz music emitting from its doors. It was expensive, you'd both had to scrape together some savings to ensure you could afford it but god were you excited. Excited for a taste of normalcy, domesticity; a lovely night out with your lover at a gorgeous restaurant in the city, good food, fancy cocktails . . . It didn't seem like too much to ask for. And for your first anniversary it seemed fitting too. But now all you can think of is how stupid that notion was.

Normalcy with Dean Winchester? It was laughable. And really, you loved that about him, loved everything about him, but to think that for one night he would push aside his responsibilities to celebrate your anniversary together was just plain naivety.

You weren't a normal couple and you never would be.

And to think, you dressed yourself up all pretty, soft makeup adorning your features and your hair down just like he liked it. Your "once-in-a-blue-moon" jewelry set accessorizes your outfit perfectly, and really, you felt beautiful. You wanted him to see you like this, his green eyes glazed over with that lover boy haze, his usual smirk shifting into that sweet, gentle smile reserved for only you. He'd have his hands all over you and those pretty lips on your neck.

Now it all felt so silly.

You should've known the day was bound for failure when you woke up this morning and he was already gone from your apartment. Not completely unusual, you know of course what he does and you know what his father demands of him. You decided long ago that you didn't care. Anything was worth the pleasures of loving Dean— being loved by Dean. But you'd hoped today would be different. You'd planned to awaken together and spend all morning entangled in his body, loving each other lazily and sleepily and then finally rolling out of the sheets for a cup of coffee and stupid cartoons. Instead you'd left him a voice message,

"Happy Anniversary, Baby." You'd cut yourself off with a yawn, angling the phone away from your lips, then, "Was hoping I'd see you this morning to tell you in person but it looks like duty calls, huh? Call me back when you get this, I'm excited for tonight. I love you, Dean. Bye."

He hadn't ever called back, but really you just thought maybe it was a difficult hunt. He'd get back to you as soon as he could. You knew it. You ached to be angry with him for leaving you alone, for choosing another hunt instead of just giving you 24 hours of his undivided attention on this special day. But you swallowed that anger down and fought hard to remind yourself, it's okay. Shit happens. He isn't choosing work over you, and you know that it's so much more complicated than that. But then why did it hurt so bad? Why did your stomach sink further and further into you with each passing hour and no word from Dean?

The whole afternoon went by with still nothing. You'd called again to see if he was okay, if he was gonna make it to dinner. It went right to voicemail and at that point you felt it was up to hoping. Trusting. You trusted he would make it to your anniversary dinner because he knew how important it was for you. He knew how excited you were and he knew you'd be waiting for him. Part of you thinks you should have reminded him yesterday but you remind yourself that he's a grown man. He should be able to remember your plans together just fine without you breathing down his neck. He wouldn't have just forgotten.

Would he?

Hands shaking, you pull out your wallet and fish three twenties out of the zippered pouch. It's far more than what your drinks costed you and a pretty hefty tip but you felt it was only fair for your prickly attitude and the awkwardness your poor waitress had to endure. Your hand slaps hard against the cold, solid surface of the table. Your jaw is clenched so tight you swear you won't have any teeth left by the time you walk home. Rising on unsteady legs, eyes averted to the ground, you bee-line out of that prestigious restaurant and finally take a deep breath when your face hits the wall of freezing air outside of the building. It's cold in your throat and cold on your flush cheeks.

It's only then that you notice the onslaught of rain pelting down from the heavens in big, cold, droplets. It's just perfect, you think. How fitting would a cliche half-mile walk to your apartment be in the freezing cold rain after being stood up on your anniversary.

Fists clenched at your sides you start to feel that familiar tightness in your throat, prickling up from deep inside of you.

Don't cry. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you think.

But it's too late, the tears are falling faster than you can stop them and the hurt, the embarrassment, the anger, the anxiety. . . it all comes crashing down in one big tsunami of fat tears running down your cheeks. You feel pathetic, but you just can't help it.

Your pretty dress slicks to your skin as you begin your trek home, the fabric darkening from the wet of the rain and you can already feel the soppy puddles forming in the soles of your heels. Your hair, once rolling perfectly down your shoulders in precise curls sticks to your face and plasters around your neck uncomfortably. You swear you're wearing holes into your bottom lip with how hard you're biting the flesh, the metallic tang of blood seeping into your mouth as you try to contain your sobs.

How could he forget this? How could he embarrass you like this? You're so sick of feeling like you're on the back burner all the time and you're scared it'll be the breaking point.

By now, you were supposed to be in the passenger seat of his Impala, driving home together with your bellies full and your hands clasped together on the center console, all smiles and loud singing to his music. He'd kiss you deep at the red lights and a familiar warmth would spread inside you at your core. Together you'd stumble into your apartment with a clumsy clash of teeth and lips and roaming hands— thinking about this was just making you feel so much worse. Nothing had gone to plan and now you weren't sure what would happen next. Not sure you could hold it together without blowing up on him as soon as you see him. If you even see him tonight. You have the feeling you won't.

Besides being absolutely drenched, it's also frigidly cold, the wind ripping through the tight collection of city streets and billowing your clothes. You shiver hard, teeth chattering loudly at this point and it's almost tempting to just run the rest of the way home. You probably would if you didn't have heels on. The evening dark sky casts a sad, blue glow across the wet pavement and across your skin, painting you in a cerulean hue of light disrupted only by the yellow luminescence of each street lamp you pass. You would think it was beautiful if not for your sour mood.

You think you're about to be rescued when you hear the thrum and idle of an old classic car pulling up behind you. You straighten up immediately and spin on the noise hopefully, wholly expecting to see that familiar, sleek black car and Dean, running to your aid with apologies shooting off his tongue. You deflate when you see instead, an old red Nova and a sweet elderly couple ambling into a shop together under an umbrella. You sigh hard and swipe your knuckles across your cheek in a useless attempt to will away your uncontrollable tears.

The usual ten-ish minute long walk home feels unbearably long and when you finally reach those double doors and push them open weakly you can't help but feel at least a little bit better. The lobby is dry and empty and warm and you relish in it for a moment before making your way to the elevator and up.

Your fingers are numb from the cold as you fiddle with your keys, fumbling a few times before finally unlocking the door and nudging it open with your hip. When you make it inside you slump against the wood of your front door and slide pathetically down to the floor into a ball, knees drawn tight to your chest and arms around yourself. You're crying again, sniffling and shaking and weeping and it feels horrible and relieving all at the same time.

Your apartment is dark save for the ambiance lamp left on in the living room and the light streaming through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. You cock your head to the side.

Wait a minute. You could've sworn you turned the off when you left, you're usually pretty good at remembering to shut off all the main lights. Then you realize the big, brown boots sitting next to you by the shoe rack. Dean's big, brown boots.

In an instant, you're standing again and striding in big, quick steps toward the bathroom door, heels discarded behind you and wet feet leaving imprints on the wood floors, your dress leaving puddles in your wake.

"Dean?" You call, voice so weak you barely hear it yourself, "Dean, where the hell have you been?"

Your hand is on the handle and you're wrenching the door open before he even has the chance to answer.

You can't help the gasp that slips loudly past your lips, your fingers following in wake to cover your mouth.

Dean sits crumpled on the bathroom floor, a wet washcloth in hand pressing against his temple and there's blood everywhere. Blood both fresh and dried caked on his face, oozing from gashes on his forehead and his neck. His skin is pale and his lips almost blue. His black tee is shredded into ribbons down the front with marks like an animal attack running all down his chest, angry and red, and swollen. Dean tilts his head against the wall he leans against and grimaces when the door you pushed into him knocks him hard in the knee.

Immediately you're at his side, down on your knees to tend to him and you're terrified because he's never come back this out of shape.

"I'm okay, Baby. Hurts like hell, but I'll live." He affirms, shaking his head at your concern, "Just gotta get cleaned up."

You pry the cloth from his hand and move to rinse the blood from it in the sink, wringing it out and re-wetting it before holding it back to the deep wound next to his brow. Your own are furrowed, no doubt displaying your every emotion to him consequently. It's almost instant how quick you forget your tears, consumed by the adrenaline in seeing Dean so beat up. It's not the first time you'd tended to his wounds after a hunt but it is the first time it's been so serious.

His lashes flutter and you realize how exhausted he looks as his eyes meet yours, then narrow as he takes in your appearance. You feel like shrinking under his gaze, averting your own as his hands come up to cup your cheeks and he pulls your face gently towards him to make you look at him again.

"Sweetheart, you been crying?" He asks tentatively, brushing his thumb past the sticky tear tracks drying under your eyes. With sudden clarity he's looking down at your body and your wet dress and sopping hair and his jaw drops wide open.

"Shit. Shit, Baby." His eyes widen and in an instant that exhaustion is wiped from his features, replaced with pure terror and guilt.

"I'm so sorry. Please tell me you weren't waiting for me out there. Please tell me you weren't sitting outside that restaurant the whole time waiting on me." He's shaking his head and for a moment you think he's going to cry now.

You sniffle and have to look away from him, swallowing that damned lump in your throat.

"You forgot." you manage to croak. "You forgot our anniversary."

"No, no, I didn't," - you narrow your eyes at him accusingly - "Well, I did— kind of! Baby, I'm so sorry I didn't realize that was today I just got so caught up in this hunt and Dad—"

"You always get caught up in a hunt. Dean, you left me alone in that restaurant. You left me alone all day. You disappeared before I even woke up, didn't leave a note or anything. You didn't answer your phone, you didn't—" You shake your head, trying not to cry again. "Do you know how embarrassed I was at that restaurant? You hurt me, Dean. This was important to me."

"Let me make it up to you," Dean grovels, eyes pleading, "Please, let me have a redo."

"I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to feel like I'm on the back burner. I know what you do is special. I know it's different and I know it's important to you. But you make me feel shitty when you don't put in the effort to remember these things. When you don't fit me in as a priority, too. It makes me feel like you weren't as excited as I was to celebrate this with you and that's hurtful." You remove his hands from your face to stand and you feel him panic for a moment, thinking you're walking away from him when you're just standing to reach the first aid kit on top of the mirror cabinet.

You pull from the box the bottle of antiseptic and some gauze and go to work on patching up those wounds. No matter how angry, how hurt you are, you weren't going to let him clean himself up the haphazard way he does it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I was excited, I was excited to see you happy and to spend time with you. I was excited to show you off. Baby, you mean everything to me, don't think for a moment that you don't." Dean says, and you know he means every word. "I won't let it happen again, I'll shape up."

"Actions mean a lot more than words, you know." you say, not harshly, but matter of factly, quiet.

"I know. I'll make it up to you. It won't ever happen again. I swear it."

He rests his hands on your shoulders, soothing them up and down your arms. "Sweetheart, you're freezing. Ditch the first aid, let's get you into the shower you're gonna catch a cold."

You take one glance at his bloodied chest and know the shower would do him just as good rather than ruining all your clean laundry trying to soak up his blood.

"You too?" you ask, brows furrowed.

Dean nods before heaving himself up, using the wall as support even though you reach your hands out to him to hold him up. He shucks off his jacket and pulls what's left of his shirt over his head, leaving them in a dejected pile on the bathroom tile.

Next, he's pulling the kit out from your other hand and setting it on the bathroom counter before reaching his arms around your body to unzip your dress in the back.

"You still look beautiful. I'm sorry you wasted it on me."

"I look like a drowned rat."

Dean scoffs at that, his lips flitting up into that signature amused smirk of his.

"I love you." He whispers against your forehead, pressing a gentle kiss there before slipping the straps of your dress off your shoulders and you return his words.

The dress falls around your legs with a sloppy, wet, slap on the tile and you slip out of it before turning the faucet on in the shower. Dean unbuttons his jeans and you peel off the rest of each others clothes before stepping into the warm shower.

The blood melts into the hot water and down the drain, Dean grimacing from the pain and you delicately circle a hand around his wrist.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? What happened today anyway?" You ask.

"It's a long story, tell you some other time." You leave it at that as his hands come up to massage the shampoo into your hair and your eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

Together you clean up, pressing kisses to each other in various locations, Dean's hands gentle on your body and in your hair and arms circling your waist.

"I don't deserve you." he whispers so quietly you barely hear it over the patter of the water in the porcelain tub.

"You do, Dean. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to be forgiven. You deserve everything good. I love you. And I forgive you because I know you mean it. I know you'd never hurt me on purpose."

You don't say it, but you forgive him because he's Dean Winchester. You love him so hard you'd let it destroy you. You forgive him because he really does deserve it. Dean Winchester who lost his mom tragically. Dean Winchester who looks out for everyone but doesn't expect anyone to look out for him. (No one does). Dean Winchester and the little brother he raised who doesn't even know it. Dean Winchester and his hard ass, stubborn father who treats him like a soldier. Dean Winchester and his heart of gold. Your Dean Winchester.

"I love you, too." He kisses you deep, nose brushing against yours and calloused fingers at your collar, the other arm around your back. Your hands reach around his neck and thread into the short hair at his nape.

"You know, that ice cream place down the road is open until 10." Dean smiles, "Whaddaya say we go get some Rocky Road and bring it home and we can marathon whatever you want all night on the couch?"

You can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you.

"Okay," you say with a smile, "that sounds perfect."

"Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart."

[spooky-bunnys]

Angst Ran request

The reader has a crush on ran and he does everything to get ran to notice him, trying to talk to him, trying to invite him out to hang outs, even getting gifts. So one day the reader has the courage to write a love letter and hand it to ran. The reader is just nervous hoping ran would accept his feelings but all comes down when ran not only harshly rejects but rips the letter and saying that there was never anything between them

Note: To the person who anonymously asked why I haven't written the requests, it's because I have to want and feel comfortable to write them. Some people don't read what I am and am not okay with writing. I also don't like being rushed to write. Makes me lose the little amount of inspiration I have. But here is this request! Hope ya like it!

Title: Love Confession?

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Pairing: Ran x M! Reader

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST, like I'm talking mocking, manipulating, and straight up Ran being a complete ass.

Ran sighed happily as he ate his favorite dessert. (Name) had given it to him after Ran gave him his homework to "help" him finish. Honestly he just didn't want to do it. But Rindou's little friend was ALWAY more then happy to help.

Speaking of Rindou, Ran peak his eyes across the room where Rindou was watching the scene with a small scowl. Ran knows how much the gullible idiot meant to his baby brother. He honestly doesn't know what his little brother sees in him. (Name) was too trusting and nice for his own good.

Maybe thats why Rindou kept him around. To have a little errand boy or maybe so (Name) could buy him stuff he didn't want to pay for. If it was either reason Ran could see it, but deep down he knew it was the innocence and kindess (Name) has that drew in Rindou. Like Ran said before, he was too good for his own good.

Ran shook his head ridding himself of said thoughts. He looked over and saw Rindou open his mouth, but was interrupted when (Name) cleared his throat. Informing Ran he was finished with his homework. As Ran reached for his homework to check over the answers his eyes caught a small red envelope.

He stared at it with a raised brow before looking up and seeing (Name) blush with a proud look. Which was quickly wiped away when Ran huffed a small snort. Ran's snort turned into a small laugh which lead to a loud and amused cackle.

"What is this?"

"I-Its a letter I wrote for you..."

"I can see that. But it almost looks like a love confession letter."

Ran took the silence and (Name) now frozen expression as his answer. That the letter was IN FACT a love confession. Which only amused Ran even more. He ignored the now teary and heart broken (Name) and ripped the envelope without even reading it.

"Well sorry to burst your bubble but I'm already in a very HAPPY relationship. Do you remember the guy that stayed the night last week?"

(Name) didn't say anything. He only nodded. The guy was a huge jerk. Demanding (Name) go and buy them drinks and snack from the convenience store. He tried refusing but when Ran asked him so nicely.

"That was my boyfriend. There isn't anything between us. I only tolerate you because your Rindou's little friend. I honestly don't know where you had the confidence to even think you had a chance with me."

Ran took his silence as a go ahead and finish what he was saying.

"You just thought you could buy me gifts, do my homework, try inserting yourself into my life, and I would just accept your feelings for me?"

(Name) didn't say anything. Just let the tears run down his face as Ran laughed again. He quickly got up and gathered his things before quickly leaving. He couldn't stay here another moment.

As (Name) ran away from the Haitani household, the brothers were still where they sat. Ran was still happily laughing his head off as Rindou stared heartbroken at the ajared front door. Was Ran the only reason (Name) wanted to be around him?

Or was he actually Rindou's friend? At this point, he wasn't too sure. As he stared at his wheezing brother, Rindou could only feel shame and pity that (Name) had fallen for him. Maybe Rindou could use this in his favor, though. What if he used this to get (Name) to like him instead?

[cleo-writes]

Hunter noceda dating hcs !!

A/n: I only watched the episodes with hunter in this bc I didn't feel like re watching the entire thing for the 3rd time

Warnings: a little rushed bc the first draft got deleted :(

Enjoy!

Okay

So hunter.

Gods he is so sweet

He's head over heels in love with you

From the moment he first saw you

He knew he was doomed

Mostly because the emperors coven has things against relationships

(In my personal hc don't hurt me)

Especially with wild witches

And also because he thought you were too good for him

And he is so scared of disobeying belos

(He doesn't wanna get hurt again.)

Especially with him already hiding flapjack

And he's head over heels in love with you

When he does his rebel thingy

Like after he goes into belos' mind

He goes to you

Whether you're a wild witch, a witch in a coven, a demon/monster, or in the emperors coven and worked alongside him

He's coming to you

Shaking, crying, unable to speak from the realizations he's come to

You try calming him down

Eventually it does work but he passes out in your arms eventually

Anyways

Hunter is like a lost puppy dog

Always at your heels

He's following you everywhere

Can't find hunter?

Go find yn he's with them

And if he's not with you

(Which is very rare)

He's either under a tree reading

It's probably about his special interest at the time

Wolves, wild witches/history of ye olde magic and witches

(Bc let's be honest this boy is autistic)

(We love him dearly tho)

Or he's carving palismen for new witches

(If it's set post-basically everything)

He's such a gentleman

Opening doors for you, being oh so polite

He does that little standing thing before you sit down at the table

Even is it's in a booth at a resturant

Or dinner at Camilas

He's also such a romantic

Luz or Camila probably showed him a bunch of cheesy romance movies

And he probably found a few books too

He reads/watches those like the holy scripture of winning you over

Bringing you roses because he thinks those are the most romantic

Picnic dates, fancy restaurants

Slowly leaning in to kiss like the lady and the tramp

Then poof

He's back in the real world.

He daydreams so much about you

It's almost weird

if he did confess the way he wanted to

He would make that little trail of rose petals,

Leading to a picnic with candles and fairy lights

(Guys idk shit abt romance is this good)

And he asks you to be his bf/gf/s.o without stuttering and in the cutest most romantic way possible

That's not how it happens tho

It's probably when ur really stressed with something

And you're annoyed at every little thing,

every noise that's made within 50 feet of you I'd unbearable

He slowly walks into ur room/workspace

"Yn...?"

"What?!"

He's on the verge of tears at your tone

It reminds him of belos when he was angry with him

He gets through it anyway

"I um... I like you ...? I-i ..I like you a lot like–like... I like you, yn."

"Oh titan, hunter..."

Of course you say you have the same feelings for him

You have to reassure this baby that it's okay and your sorry for snapping a little

Cuz he was about to cry

Anyways once you guys are in a relationship

He's really really touchy

But also flinching at every small touch

You have to take it really slow with him

Asking for consent everytime you hold his hand or to hug him

Eventually he warms up to you

Expect hugs from behind

A lot.

All the time.

Every minute.

He loves hugging you

And he loves cuddling you

So so so much

Nuzzling into your neck with happy, content sighs, laying on your stomach

I think he would love just. Rubbing his face on every part of your body

Seems kinda weird but it makes sense in my head

he's just a little guy‼️

I would say it's a wolf thing that he picked up on while reading but idk if that's true

Anyways he loves you so much

Give him reassurance often

(Take care of him or else🔫)

.

.

.

.

.

.

Mini taglist:

@thementallyillapollochild @daonedaonlyskh

if you want to be added or removed lemme know !!

[billyharringson]

Treacle

A short one-shot that i've been wanting to write for a while.

Pairing: Harringrove

Rating: Mature

Additional Tags: Safewords, Safe Sane and Consensual, Light BDSM, Dom/sub, Sub Billy Hargrove, Dom Steve Harrington, Spanking, Belts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Summary: Steve had never used his safe word before, in fact Billy had almost forgotten it, so this was bad. The way Steve was trembling and sobbing in his arms was doing little to dissuade him of that fact.

You can also read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59247157

It only took one strike with the belt for Steve to realise that this wasn’t going to work. All previous excitement and arousal left his body, to be replaced with ice. Billy’s erotic gasp as he arched into the hit didn’t help, and he barely heard his boyfriend’s moaned expletive as a haze of panic fell over him.

He hadn’t anticipated this. They’d done things much more extreme in the past and he’d loved it. He still replayed the image of Billy, bound and gagged, covered in tiny cuts from the knife that Steve had lovingly trailed over his skin, multiple times a month. He spanked Billy on a regular basis, to the point where Billy sometimes quipped that Steve wasn’t happy unless he couldn’t sit down properly.

But they’d never used belts before. He’d only ever struck Billy with the flat of his hand.

“Steve?”

Billy’s voice brought him back to reality and Steve stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over, his chest heaving and tears flowing down his cheeks.

When had he started crying?

“Steve, hey, hey. Look at me.” Billy was standing now, making his way towards him even as Steve continued to back away.

“I... I can’t... s-shit.” He dropped the belt, grabbing at his hair. “Sorry I... I... fuck. I can’t...” He squeezed his eyes closed, squeaking out another sob. “T-treacle.”

--

Billy’s eyes widened as Steve stuttered his safe word, he hadn’t expected that. He’d known that his boyfriend wasn’t reacting well to something, he still wasn’t sure what, but it probably had something to do with the belt.

“Okay, okay, baby. You’re okay.” Billy surged forward, gathering Steve in his arms and holding him close. “I’m here, pretty boy, you’re okay. Just breath for me now, there we go.”

Steve had never used his safe word before, in fact Billy had almost forgotten it, so this was bad. The way Steve was trembling and sobbing in his arms was doing little to dissuade him of that fact.

“You ne... you never call me b-baby.” Steve whispered, nuzzling into Billy’s shoulder. He was still crying, Billy’s shoulder growing wet with his tears.

“Well, this is a special case.” Billy replied with a smile, stroking down Steve’s hair. “What do you need, Stevie? What do you need from me?”

Steve’s aftercare usually consisted of taking care of Billy, of doting on him, but Billy figured that wouldn’t work right now. Just as he figured that Steve probably wouldn’t appreciate a bubble bath and a mug of hot chocolate the way Billy did when he dropped.

“You want me to undress you, sir?” Billy asked, knowing it was a risk to use Steve’s title but wanting to see where his head was.

Steve squeezed him once more before nodding and letting him go. “I’m sorry.” He whispered as Billy slowly and gently peeled off his clothes.

“Nope.” Billy said with a shit eating grin, popping the ‘p’ as he looked up at his boyfriend from where he was knelt between his legs. “Isn’t that what you always say to me? You don’t get to say sorry for using your safe word. You did what you needed to do.” He took hold of Steve’s hand and pulled him back over to the bed, swiping the rest of the restraints onto the floor and folding down the covers. “In you get, sir. I’ll be right back.”

--

Steve grabbed hold of Billy’s hand. “Where are you going?” He asked, following Billy’s gentle guidance and climbing under the covers.

“To get some snacks.” Billy said, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s forehead. “And a movie. I’ll be gone for a minute tops, I promise.”

Steve swallowed the apology that he could feel building again and instead snuggled further down in their bed. He was feeling slightly less wobbly already, the fact that Billy had instantly taken charge was doing wonders for his nerves.

Was helping him to think that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t hurt him too much.

He knew that Billy liked pain, just as he knew that a lot of the things Billy asked him to do were to help him bury his memories of past pain. And Steve had been able to do that because he knew he was helping.

Because it wasn’t a pain he could relate to.

“How are you doing, sir?” Billy asked, shouldering open the bedroom door, his arms filled with a bowl of freshly microwaved popcorn and a VHS tape.

“I’ll be better when you’re in here with me, baby.” Steve replied, giving him a watery smile.

Billy put the tape into the player underneath their tiny bedroom TV before crawling into bed next to him. “I’m here, Stevie. How are you feeling now?”

Steve wrapped his arms around Billy, manoeuvring them until his boyfriend was cradled against his chest. “Better.” He muttered, kissing Billy’s cheek. “I’m...”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” Billy interrupted, pushing a piece of popcorn past Steve’s lips as though to silence him.

“Okay.” Steve said with a chuckle, accepting a few more pieces of popcorn.

“You okay to talk about it? Or do we need to leave it till tomorrow?”

Steve had anticipated this question. It was an unspoken rule between them that should they discover a hard limit that they talk about it. He hummed, settling more firmly against the pillows. “When I was about 5, my grandfather came to live with us. He was only there for a few months but... well, he had different ideas about discipline than my parents.”

“Oh, pretty boy.” Billy cooed, turning around and cupping Steve’s face. “You should have said something.”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t remember until now. I guess I didn’t think it had affected me but... the second I hit you, I... I remembered how I always felt whenever he took his belt off and...” Steve could feel the tears coming again and hid his face in Billy’s hair. “...the thought of doing that to you just...”

“It’s okay.” Billy said, his words barely audible where his lips were pressed to Steve’s collarbone. “You didn’t hurt me, Stevie. I promise.”

Steve nodded and they sat in silence for a few minutes until he lay back again, brushing the back of his hand down Billy’s cheek. “Maybe we’ll just stick with hands for a bit, hmm?”

“We don’t ever have to try the belt again, Steve. I’m more than happy for you to just use your hands, or maybe we can try a cane or whip or something.”

Steve paused, more memories returning. “Not a cane. I can’t use a cane.”

“Okay.” Billy said simply, not pushing more than that as he picked up the remote. “Now, let’s eat popcorn and watch movies until we fall asleep.”

“I love you.” Steve whispered as the opening sounds of ‘The Little Mermaid’ filled the small space of their bedroom.

“I love you too, Stevie.”

[mohnikei]