#happy birthday to the best egg ever

[hotwaterandmilk]

Zombie Land Saga Revenge - Minamoto Sakura Furisode ver. GraffArt Acrylic Puchi Stand (2023)

[pynkfairyheart]

Pairings: connie x black reader

Warnings: smut 18+ Connie's a lil toxic, mentions of a gun, pretty angsty

pt.2 to birthday girl but can be read as a standalone

Miss you

Constance Springer. The man who was once the source of your happiness though recently the source of your frustration and headaches.

“I just don't get it, Con. You take me on these amazing dates, buy me anything that catches my attention, and say you wanna spend the rest of your life with me, yet when I ask to publicly announce we’re together, which I shouldn't have to, you always brush it aside.” You spoke as calmly as possible. Though considering this was the 4th time this week you were having this conversation your calm tone resembled shouting.

It had been five months since your birthday. Five months since Connie gave you the best gift you could ever think of. Himself.

The first four months felt as if you were on cloud nine. The entire duration it was as if you were conjoined at the hip. Connie had to make a couple of drops? There you were in his passenger seat watching a movie or using his card to pay for the large quantity of your cart.

You needed to go make up a missed exam? Connie was waiting in his car with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The only time you weren't seen together was if he was doing something he didn't want you involved in or if he was out buying you secret lavish gifts such as the car he got you a week after your birthday. Life was great.

It wasn't til you were at your nail appointment with Mika where she nearly cut you with her clippers from shock the moment you brought up your relationship with Connie, that you realized no one knew about it.

At first, you were confused. How could no one know? You were always together but the more you thought about it you started to understand. Whenever you were out he wasn't as affectionate as when it was just the two of you, just a few touches that could easily be considered friendly, but you just brushed it off as him not being comfortable with PDA.

Even when you went on dates he'd buy the entire venue or restaurant out so it'd be just you two or would plan the nicest dates at the house, either way, no one saw you on dates as a couple.

You thought about it for a while before it finally ate you up and you just had to ask. His response was the reason shit went left.

“Whatchu mean let people know we’re together? Ion want people in our business. I'm yours and you're mine, that's all that matters” He brushed it off with a kiss on your forehead before running to go get some eggs around the corner. He was only gone for ten minutes yet in that time frame you went through hundreds of different reasons as to why he responded that way.

At first, you were confused. Then, you were trying to reassure yourself he's right as long as we know then we straight. But immediately after that thought came anger why the fuck doesn't he want people to know? Am I the fuckin side chick?

By the time Connie came back you were fuming. You trusted Connie, the night he asked you to be his he promised you he'd never do anything to hurt you yet you couldn't deny how suspicious this was. He barely had time to lock the door behind him before you started with your questions.

“You cheating on me Constance?”

“What?” He almost gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned, looking at you as if you had said the stupidest shit ever which in his mind you did.

“You heard me. Are you cheating?” You followed him into the kitchen of his apartment.

“No [☆] I'm not cheating. I needa take you to the ER? Cause it sounds like you hit your head while I was gone”

“Then why don't you wanna tell anyone?”

“About us?”

“Duh”

“I already told you, mami, I don't want people all up in our business”

That was two weeks ago and you guys were nowhere near in a better place. By no means were you insecure. You knew Connie loved you and only you but you wanted others to know as well. It's not like you wanted to leak one of your many sex tapes on IG. You just wanted at least your friend group to know you were together. Connie wasn't having it though.

“Mama lower your tone” He groaned. Inked hands rubbing his face from frustration.

“Just tell me, Con. Why don't you want anyone to know?”

“Is it wrong to wanna keep our relationship private? I love you princess but you buggin’ for real. Drop it”

“You know what. Fuck this, nd fuck you too. There's a big fucking difference between private and secret.” You slammed his bedroom door. This was too much. You couldn't take it anymore; it was as if he was ashamed of you. You loved Connie, you really, really loved him but this hurt, the constant drop of your heart whenever he let go of your hand the moment you stepped out of his apartment complex or whenever a girl flirted with him in front of the group but there was nothing you could do. You were done. No amount of love could make you settle for anything less than you knew you deserved.

Despite your teary eyes you managed to pull yourself together. Grabbing your bag, you packed as much as possible before finally exiting the room.

Connie was in the middle of rolling a blunt when he saw you walk out, he would have been convinced that his heart was lying on the couch when he stood up if it wasn't for the loud thumping in his ears.

“Where are you going?” He stood in your way

“Connie please move” You sniffled

“No, not until you tell me where you're going. Please [☆] lo siento, mami, por favor, no te vayas please don't go” His voice cracked as reality hit him. Dropping to his knees, his hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips.

“I promise to be better, I promise. I will call everyone on my phone and tell them about us right now, please don't go” At this point, you had to look away. His tear-stricken face and Spanish almost had you fold.

“We'll work this out ma, estaré mejor, lo prometo I'll be better, I promise”

“No, we can't Connie. Not right now” And with that, you left.

A month had passed so far. It was rough in the beginning. He blew your phone up 24/7 to the point where you had to block him. You couldn't eat, and whenever you did have the energy to stay awake you did nothing but scroll on your phone, your thumb always finding the photo album where you stored all pictures of Connie.

Sasha and Mikasa finally had enough, while Mika was the only one you told Sasha had a pretty good idea after she went to visit Connie only to find him in the same state as you, maybe even worse. Deciding you needed to leave the walls of your apartment and have fun, they finally convinced you to go out. Taking a couple of pregame shots while shaking ass in the mirror, your outfit leaving nothing to the imagination as you finally felt ready to face reality.

By the time you had arrived at the party, the drinks started to kick in and you grabbed the first sexy guy you saw and dragged him to the dance floor.

Unknown to you Connie was also at the party, standing in the corner as he made a few deals. He looked tired, and he was. The moment the door closed behind you he broke down. Ignoring all of the calls and texts he got from clients as he sat there. He was angry. Angry at you for leaving him but mostly angry at himself for fucking up.

When Connie finally caught sight of you it was as if someone had finally flipped the switch on throughout his body. His heart sped up, his posture straightened and his dick twitched at the sight of your body in the dress.

His dick wasn't the only thing twitching. When it finally registered to Connie that you were letting some random guy touch you as you whined on him, his eye twitched and his hand immediately went to his gun.

He was furious. With zero fucks he approached you, the barrel of his gun pressed against the guy who you were currently throwing it back on.

When you no longer felt the swaying of the man behind you, you turned to be met with the fear-frozen stranger and Connie whispering something in his ear. You didn't have time to ask what was going on before the guy scurried off and Connie roughly grabbed your arm, dragging you out of the house party.

Despite the fact you were no longer together and he had no right to drag you away, you stayed quiet. Connie rarely got angry but when he did you knew it was best to just stay quiet.

“Get in the fucking car [☆]” He threw open the door. You were convinced the thong you had on was completely drenched after those six words. His voice was low and threatening and you almost felt disgusting from how turned on you were. Almost. With one look into his rage-filled eyes, you got in the car, the door slamming behind you when he was sure you were safely in.

He quickly got in, tire tracks marking the ground as he sped off. It was silent for a minute before you decided to speak, once his grip on the steering wheel loosened and the color returned to his knuckles.

“Connie?” You faced him, eyes burning into the side of his head as he kept his dark stare on the road.

“Connie, come on. You can't just kidnap me and then not speak. Pull over and talk to me now” You huffed.

With a roll of his eyes, he pulled into a deserted parking lot.

“Hello? Either you get to talking or I'm getting out nd calling an Uber”

“No the fuck you're not” He groaned loudly, eyes meeting yours.

“Then talk” You borderline yelled

If Connie's hair was long enough to grip he'd have a couple bald spots from how frustrated he was. He gave you both time to cool down before he spoke.

“Look I'm sorry for dragging you away, and for threatening your lil boyfriend-”

“He's not my boyfriend”

“He's not?”

“No. Continue your apology” You rolled your eyes.

Your response had a smirk forming on his face. He missed you so much, even your attitude.

“I missed you ma. I'm sorry for dragging you away. I'm also sorry for how things ended.” He grabbed your hand.

“I now understand your feelings and your concerns and I'm sorry I ever made you feel like I was ashamed of you or if there was another woman. You're the love of my life ma, this past month has been pure hell. I need you baby. Please take me back.” His hands were shaking as they held yours securely. It was rare to see Connie cry, and the sight of his tear-streaked face made your heart ache. He really did love you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat you asked the one question that started it all.

“Be real Con. Why didn't you want anyone to know?”

With a sigh, he rubbed his facial hair.

“I was afraid you'd realize you could do better”

“What? What made you think that Con?”

“I sell drugs for a living, mami, I'm involved with a shit ton of dangerous people. I was afraid when others found out they'd start telling you things about me and you'd realize you can do so much better”

“Oh, Connie” You could no longer resist the need to be close to him. Maneuvering yourself so you sat in his lap you cupped his face as your eyes searched his.

“Papa there is no one better. I love you so much, Connie. There is nothing anyone could ever say to make me want or love you less because I know you. I know how much you care and love those around you. There is no one better, Connie.”

For some time, the two of you were wrapped in each other's arms as you faced your emotions.

When you both were calm, you finally dared to look into his eyes. The energy shift resembling the one from your birthday.

“Con” You slowly inched your face closer to his

“I'm sorry for all the hurt I put us through mami” His hand wrapped around your neck

“Déjame compensarte let me make it up to you” He closed the space between you.

It felt like the first breath taken after being underwater for a long time. You felt alive, felt loved. The once slow kiss grew into something more passionate. Both of you needy, as you fiend for dominance in the heated exchange.

Ultimately you lost the battle when his hands gripped your hips tightly as if to assure himself you weren't leaving again. It wasn't soon after that you found yourself in the back of his car with your legs resting on his shoulder as he drilled into you.

He littered kisses on your ankle as his grip on your hips tightened. His thick cock stretching you out had your eyes rolling back and moans of ecstasy coming out of your agape mouth.

“Yeah? You doing so good fa me ma. You miss this? Miss how good I fuck you?” His thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Connie” You whined. Attempting to push his hand away from the sensitive bud.

“Answer me princesa or ima stop” He warned

“Yes, Connie- mhmph I miss it so bad papi oh my god” Your velvety walls squeezed him tight.

"Fuuuck. Don't ever leave me again, you hear me? I can't take it, baby, I love you too much. T-try that shit again nd Imma make you watch while I put a bullet in between his eyes. Understand?” His pace increased.

God that shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. You were convinced you could have come on the spot, the added pressure on your carotids when you didn't answer immediately wasn't any help.

“Y-yes Con, I promise it won't happen again” You managed to say in between the moans and whimpers that you no longer had the energy to contain.

“Keep squeezing me, mami. I'm so fuckin close” He groaned, hand no longer on your neck as it rested against the steamy windows to stable himself.

The atmosphere of the car was pure filth. Your moans bounced off the windows, the sloshing sound of your wet pussy and slapping skin that created the creamy ring around the base of cock topping it all off.

His thrusts were slowly getting sloppy, you were just squeezing him so tight.

“C-Con” You managed to gasp out, the marks he littered on your neck to suppress his whimpers, having the coil in your belly tighten.

“I know mama, let go fa me” He groaned.

That instant you came, eyes rolling to the back of your head for a quick second as your cream and small spurts of squirt leaked from your pussy.

“Shit mama” He panted, dick twitching as he painted your walls with his cum.

Connie being the lover boy he was despite repeatedly denying it whispered apologies, and sweet promises into your ear as you came down from your high.

“I'm sorry mami, I promise to be better” He kissed you softly as if you were in a fairytale before whispering in your ear.

“But don't think just cus we're good now, that I'm not gon tear that ass up when we get home for giving that loser a taste of what's mine.”

I dont know how i feel about this one buuutttt all thanks to @masterofthepp for giving me this idea. Hopefully it meets your standards babes. As always any feedback is welcome. mwah

[acrosstheujiverse]

Through the Years

【📂】 summary: it’s you and your husband's silver wedding anniversary. it's been 25 years since you've married kim mingyu and you’re filled with nostalgia as you reminisce back on how life has been in your sleep. 【🖇️】 pairing: husband!mingyu x wife!reader. 【💿】 genre: nostalgia and heartwarming. 【🧺】 tags: established relationship; memories; pregnancy; mentions of religion; one mention of "cheater"; married life.  【📦】 word count: 2.5k+

📬 — author’s note！this is inspired by a real story.

thank you for the overwhelmingly positive response to my headcannon post, dynamics of an introverted couple !! (check it out if you haven't).

i dedicate this to those who are raising children—we appreciate you. some of us (children) may be too afraid/shy/embarrassed to say this… but i’ll say it on behalf of them. from the bottom of my heart, thank you for all your effort, support, love, and sacrifices.

*i’ve included some easter eggs! ^^

(it was my birthday 2 days ago so i was motivated to give you a gift in the form of this story hehe~ happy reading! ٩( ᐛ )و*)

p.s. please pardon any grammatical error.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

after spending the evening at a restaurant downtown, you and your husband, mingyu, walk hand-in-hand into your dimly lit house.

“huh… i guess the kids must be in their rooms right now.” you said to your husband.

all of a sudden you both hear muffled sounds in your guys’ living room.

you and mingyu exchanged knowing looks at each other. “let’s not make them wait any longer, hon. let’s go.” mingyu whispered to you.

chuckling quietly, you nodded in agreement. “let’s go, my dear lord mingyu.”

he cheekily smiled, “right after you, lady (y/n).”

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

“shhh! be quiet--i hear them!”

“hurry up, aji!”

“okay... in 3-2-1—!”

“SURPRISE!!!”

both you and mingyu feigned shock and surprise.

your three kids stood in the middle of the living room beaming with joy, feeling satisfied with their surprise celebration. ,. one was holding a cake, another was holding a handmade banner, with ‘you’re the best mom and dad ever!’ written on it, and the other one setting off a confetti wand.

“HAPPY 25TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY MOM AND DAD!!!”

you cooed at the sweet gesture from your kids.

“aww! thank you, my babies. your dad and i appreciate your efforts.”

mingyu initiated a family group hug. “thank you kids.”

giggling, all three of your kids said in unison, “you’re welcome mom and dad!” 

you gave mingyu a side hug after everyone dispersed themselves. the two of you held a warm gaze into each other’s eyes. a sweet and loving smile never leaving both of your faces.

“happy anniversary again, love~”

“happy anniversary again, hon~”

you exchanged kisses.

both of you chuckled at the déjà vu of it all.

but you and mingyu don’t mind celebrating your wedding anniversary again because this time it’s with your whole family.

it was, indeed, a mirthful celebration. 

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

“goodnight, gyu.”

“goodnight, (y/n).”

as you lay in your shared bedroom, you begin to reminisce about the beginnings of you and mingyu’s relationship. you softly smiled as you slowly slipped into your dreams.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

“mom… (y/n) and i are going to be parents. (y/n)’s pregnant.”

you were both not ready to be parents. you were 23 and mingyu was 20.

you were in your last year of college, while he was in his second year.

you both were filled with limitless opportunities, but in the eyes of both your parents... it was a different story.

“KIM. MINGYU. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS??!”

mingyu’s mother was a religious woman, a devout believer of god, and an avid churchgoer.

born and raised in the countryside where everyone knew each other, both you and mingyu knew that you were going to be the talk of the town for… a while. 

(with hindsight, it was only years later that you realized how your mother-in-law took the brunt of most of the gossip.)

although mingyu’s mother was strongly opposed to the pregnancy at first, she knew she could do nothing to change the fact that you were pregnant. you were relieved that she wasn’t like those cruel stepmothers portrayed in disney movies—definitely, not. she eventually warmed up to the situation at hand and guided the both of you during your pregnancy.

you and mingyu were set to be married a month before your first child's due date. yes, it was an outdated belief that both your families held back in the day, but it was what was considered acceptable at that time. you married early because of the pregnancy, but you had already decided long before you got pregnant that he was the one. mingyu was the one that's meant to be standing beside you at the altar and the one that you were going to grow old with.

the moment that truly changed mingyu’s mother’s heart was when aji was born. the moment she first laid eyes on your first born baby girl, her eyes were filled with love. 

(she later told you that it was as if she was a first-time mother again.)

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

to say that raising a child was hard would be a huge understatement.

you were blessed with three children.

the first born, aji, was the hardest to take care of because you both didn’t know what you were supposed to do. (both of your parents were there to guide you for the most part, but the rest of the work had to come from you and mingyu.) with aji, the both of you were overly protective.

the second child, chi, was less hard to take care of because now both of you had experience but it wasn’t easy. learning from all the mistakes and lessons from your first child, you and mingyu applied all the knowledge you had with chi, and for the most part all of your tactics worked. chi was a very sickly baby when she was born, and so you and your husband worked tirelessly to provide all the necessary medication that your baby needed. with chi, the both of you were protective. 

the youngest, bo, was easier to take care of because you both learned valuable things from the last two. however… the skills and tricks you had learned from raising aji and chi wasn’t really working well with bo because… he was the only boy. so it was like being back to square one again. with bo, the both of you learned to be a little bit carefree.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

your husband was a man of many admirable qualities.

kim mingyu had a strong work ethic.

in the beginning of your guys’ marriage, he would work odd jobs, anything that would pay him. anything that would sustain your growing family.

when you were pregnant with your youngest, it was an unexpected pregnancy (it was déjà vu). you noticed the signs of pregnancy early and confirmed it with a test kit. 

mingyu had a plan, you were skeptical at first but you eventually caved in. he would apply to work abroad and get a permanent residency. the work and money in your guys’ small town did not pay enough for a family of five, so mingyu looked for work outside of your country since they pay much more.

fortunately, he was there when you gave birth to bo and when he took his first steps. 

it was only when bo was about two years old that mingyu left to go abroad.

you had worked on a video call schedule with him so that you and the children would have communication with him. he’d send a few pictures and videos of his life abroad… but it didn’t fill the feeling of longingness for him in your heart. you missed him so much.

raising all three of your children without your husband by your side took a toll on your mental and physical wellbeing. the first year without mingyu was the hardest for you, but you eventually got back on your feet thanks to the support you had from your friends, and his and your family. you knew you had to be strong not only for your husband and children, but also for yourself.

and you maintained your unwavering commitment to being a great mother to your children in the five years that mingyu was gone.

it was only until bo was seven years old that he met his father again. aji was about 15, and chi was 9 years old.

his five years abroad was the longest you two have ever been apart, but it proved to be an incredible testament to the lengths you both would endure just to provide your children with a comfortable life. a life that used to only exist in the movies and dramas that you two would watch before but has now been made possible because of the hard work and sacrifices you and mingyu made.

*

kim mingyu was chivalrous.

it was the simplest gesture of his that you would take notice of: he would hold open doors for you and your children. it was an automatic response from him–you didn’t need to ask him to–he just simply did it. as a father, his gentlemanly actions set the standards and expectations of your children. they especially influence the actions of your youngest son, bo. 

mingyu was someone that’s attentive to the needs of others. an altruistic person.

he’d say to your children, “if you can help, then help.”

your husband isn’t an overly kind person. he knows his boundaries… sometimes. in your viewpoint, at times, he gets a bit into helping others to the point that he fails to recognize that they were only using him for their own selfish reasons. you were his voice of reason and helped him put a limit to his kindness.

*

kim mingyu was a homemaker.

from cooking, driving the kids, vacuuming, mopping, cleaning dishes, folding clothes, mowing, cutting and dyeing the kids’ hair (and your hair)—mingyu was an absolute all rounder around the house. but it’s not like you don’t do your fair share of house chores–you do. the two of you alternate chores every week. it’s a routinized system that the two of you made. 

*

your relationship with your husband isn’t at all perfect, but you know you’re both going to get through it together. in times where you don’t see eye to eye, or say things in the heat of the moment… both of you will silently apologize through actions. 

it’s not like you both can’t verbally apologize to one another… it’s just that the both of you are not used to expressing your emotions. you two didn’t grow up in an environment where emotions were talked about.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

once, mingyu shared a personal story with you.

it was about his father.

he shared how he was distant with his father. mingyu, as a child, hated the way his father would always leave and make his mother cry. his mother always hid away in the bathroom or their "shared" bedroom to shed her tears, away from mingyu, but he heard them. he heard her painful cries every single night. there was never a day where his mother didn't cry herself to sleep.

his father was someone who couldn’t keep his zipper up—a cheater.

his father was what made kim mingyu the man that he is now.

he hated his father. he didn't want to be like him when he grew up. so he made a silent promise to himself that he would never treat the woman that he loved and married like how his father did to his mother.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

the past 25 years of your married life and family life had its ups and downs, of course no relationships are ever picture-perfect, but you try to embrace each other's shortcomings.

after 25 years of being married, you can proudly say that 23 year old you and 20 year old mingyu would be glad to see 48 year old you and 45 year old mingyu still standing strong together. that no matter what life has thrown your way, you've both gotten through those battles  and came out victorious at the end. (some battles may have taken some time to resolve but you both remained by each other's side.)

you and mingyu may not see eye to eye on some things, but you always try to make things work. you try to make compromises with each other. 

your marriage may have started because of unexpected circumstances... but it has led you both to an unpredictably beautiful future.

a future with your three children. a future with you and him. a future with a loving family that you both only wished of when you were younger.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

tears continuously pour down your face as you remember your trip down memory lane last night. you try to quietly wipe your tears and lower your weeping but your repeated attempts at silencing yourself only stirs your husband awake.

he's shifting his body beside you to try and face you. "hon..? are you—"

but before mingyu could see your tear stained face, you quickly buried your face into his bare chest.

"woah. (y/n)—honey—are you okay?" he slightly chuckled in his morning voice.

"m jst gld yr he," your muffled voice softly answered.

"what? i didn't understand what you said. could you repeat it while looking at me... please?"

he knew just how to get you to open up to him.

darn you, kim mingyu!

you gave in to his request.

“i’m just glad you’re here…”

you looked up at him and when you met each other’s eyes, his slowly started going wide with worry. "aww, (y/n)... did you have a bad dream?" he gently brushed your tear stained eyes and cheeks.

you shook your head. "no... it was actually the opposite."

giving him a small smile, you rest your head against his warm toned chest as you begin to share the contents of your dreams.

“i dreamt about us last night. how everything started to how everything is now. it opened my mind to how much we’ve been through all these years. it made me feel more grateful to have you as my life partner and husband.”

tears started to welled up in mingyu’s eyes. his heart overflowing with even more love for you.

"thank you for fighting for us, love. thank you for fighting for me–for fighting for our family. i know many were opposed to us because of the sanctity of our marriage but we proved them wrong by staying true to our vows. i’m so thankful that i have the best husband, partner, and father (to our children)–it’s more than i could ever ask for. i love you.”

with that, mingyu embraced you ever so delicately with his muscular arms, it was as if a gentle giant holding a porcelain vase, afraid you were going to break if he applied too much pressure.

“all the promises that i’ve made to you, on our wedding day and after we were married, will never be in vain (y/n)... i can assure you that. we’ve already been through so much together; we’ve witnessed each other's worst pains and great joys. we work great as a team and i wouldn’t want to experience the rest of my life without you. i want to keep making more great memories with you. i want us to keep being by each other's side. thank you for loving me, even though i’m not perfect.”

“i’m not perfect either gyu. we both are imperfect—but it’s that imperfection of ours that i love so much. we’re not perfect but we are perfectly imperfect for each other to love. we complement each other’s weaknesses with our strengths.”

his hold on you tightened slightly, as if he was afraid you would suddenly disappear. you couldn’t see it, but a single tear rolled down mingyu’s cheek. he wore a bittersweet smile on his face. 

your sentimental words have your husband feeling bashful and so warm inside.

feeling that his throat was closing up soon, he could only muster up the courage to utter one last endearment to you. 

“i love you (y/n)… more than you could ever know… thank you for loving this imperfect me.”

- fin.

[mariclerc]

Cozier birthday | cl16

Summary: it's your boyfriend's birthday and outside of the apartment it's a little bit sadder.

Warnings: none, fluff, cozy Charles and reader.

You and Charles have been dating for a very long time and every day together feels like the first one, it's like nothing has changed in all these years. But there is always a date that excites you a lot no matter how much time passes, and that is his birthday...

You woke up super early to go to the kitchen and make him a special birthday breakfast, he always brings you breakfast in bed every time it's your birthday and you were thinking of returning the favor.

The kitchen is filled with the smell of freshly brewed coffee, toast, scrambled eggs and some fruit, just the way he likes it, you carefully arrange Charles' favorite breakfast on a tray, along with wrapped gifts. Quietly, you make your way towards your shared bedroom.

You push gently the door, balancing the tray and the gifts in your hands. “Happy birthday Charlie!” you say softly.

He wakes up a bit groggily but his eyes light up with surprise and delight. “Wow, good morning lover! What's all this?”

You blushed a little bit. “I thought I'd return the favor this year” you say softly while smiling. “Breakfast in bed for the prettiest birthday boy ever!” you giggled.

You can see how his smile reaches from ear to ear, he is really happy for the nice gesture you are giving him.

He sits up while grinning. “You're amazing baby. This looks incredible!” he hugs you tightly. “Oh, thank you so much amour.” (love)

You blushed slightly, setting the tray on his lap. “I hope it's as good as yours always is. I wanted it to make it special for you!”

“Babe it's perfect! Thank you so much my lovely girl.” he takes a bite of the breakfast and he closed his eyes while eating. “Mhmm, this is delicious!”

You giggled while sitting beside him on the bed, he looks like a little boy excited with a new toy.

“I'm glad you liked it baby! And there's more...” you gestured towards the gift.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, more surprises? Chérie you're spoiling me too much!” he said playfully. (darling)

“Only because you deserve it. Go on, open it!” you say while smiling.

He smiles and carefully removes the wrapping from the gift, revealing a soulmates ring, an accessory for his new guitar and a snoopy keychain, he giggled.

“Baby, this is incredible... and cute! How did you know I wanted this thing for the guitar?” he smiled softly at you.

“I have my ways!” you giggled.

“You're so attentive, lover... Thank you, truly! This means the world to me.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling content. “I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me.” you whispered.

He blushed. “Every day with you it's a gift. I'm so lucky!”

You smiled shyly. “I'm the lucky one, you make everything better!”

While you continue having breakfast and talking about various things, a loud thunderclap is heard, heavy rain pouring outside. You and Charles are sitting on the bed wrapped in blankets.

You hear him sigh. “Well, looks like our plans for today are ruined.”

You smiled softly. “Not necessarily, we can still have a great time here.”

He takes your hand. “I think you're right, amour. Let's make the best of it!” he said excitedly.

You and Charles get out of bed and then pick up their breakfast things and then go back to bed to cuddle.

“Want to watch a movie?” you asked softly.

He nodded. “Sure thing, I'll pick.”

He chose a romantic comedy — something very funny about him is that he loves romantic comedies, he's a complete hopeless romantic, just like you. You start the movie and snuggle closer to Charles. A few minutes later, Charles leans in and kisses you several times, on the forehead, nose, cheeks, lips, in short, everywhere and you let out several giggles.

“Oh, Charlie! I'm glad we're stuck here together.” you smiled.

He kissed you again. “Me too babes!”

You and Charles continue to watch the movie, occasionally pausing to talk or kiss. As the movie ends, Charles turns to you.

He smiles. “You know? I'm so glad I spent my birthday with you... Maybe not the way I expected, but believe me, it's better this way.”

You smiled and stroked his hair. “I know baby, I know!”

Suddenly Charles gets up and goes to the kitchen. He returns with two glasses of wine.

“A toast to a rainy, but wonderful birthday.”

You raised your glass. “To many more birthdays together and more silly adventures together.”

You and Charles clink your glasses and take a sip of wine. You both smile tenderly at each other. You can feel your heart filled with love for him.

He leans towards you. “I love you amour. Thank you for this very special birthday!”

You smiled softly. “I love you too baby.” you give him a little peck on his lips. “Happy birthday again lover!”

Charles pulls you in for a kiss. As you kiss, the rain outside continues to pour with force.

At one point you pulled away from him and smiled. “Actually… I have another little surprise for you... Give me a sec, please.” you smiled and went to one of the closets and took out another wrapped gift.

You usually write a lot, you like journaling since long before dating Charles and since you started dating you started a small journal about your moments together, with photos, receipts, some pretty random details and so on.

You go back to bed and show him the wrapped gift. “I hope you like it a lot, honey! I've been doing this since, well... since we started dating, actually.” you blushed.

He smiles and holds the gift and begins to unwrap it, he looks at the cover of the journal and smiles while his eyes glaze over a little.

“our fantastic adventure!” is the title that can be read on the cover of the journal full of stickers.

“Oh honey... I have a feeling this is going to be my favorite gift ever!” he blushes and opens the journal.

It's full of entries about your first dates, some outings together, some movie tickets, receipts from coffee shops, notes he always leaves you before leaving the house.

Suddenly he decides to read one of the very first entries in the journal.

9/07/19 — Today I met the cutest boy I've ever seen at the cafeteria, he looks so cute with his dimples... Maybe it's just a little crush but I can't get his cute face out of my head.

“I remember this day... I didn't know someone was watching me but I did notice you...” he says in a whisper and you smile. “You looked so adorable with those glasses, so cute and pretty... I was too shy to approach you.” he said while giving you a little kiss on the tip of your nose.

Turning some pages where there were accounts of dates, photos and more entries, he comes to a page that he found very curious.

20/09/19 — We did it... yes, we did that thing... And it was the most precious experience of my life! I had never felt so taken into account and appreciated by someone. He is such a gentleman, I have said it many times but it is the truth! Even though I'm pretty insecure about myself, he made me feel like a princess and I really appreciate that.

“Baby... Oh my, that day was so good, in so many aspects.” he said while he caress your face. “You were incredible that night.”

“Stop it silly.”

He giggled. “Never my lover.”

30/09/19 — He already has a nickname for me and that is "lover"... Which is kind of funny since he doesn't call me "love", no, he says calling someone "love" is very basic... So it will be lover forever, and I honestly like that nickname, it's cute, like him <3

You continued to sit next to him as he read each journal entry, whether it was about some dates, small discussions or just thoughts, he read every single one of them, his eyes were glazed over and he was blushing a lot, he didn't know that you had been preparing this for a long time.

At one point he reads an entry that made him cry a little bit...

24/07/22 — My boy lost the lead of the race, and yes, it is a mistake that anyone can make, but I know that he will not be forgiven... It hurt me a lot to see him cry in his driver's room kneeling as if he was asking God for forgiveness when in reality he was criticizing himself a lot. How much it hurt me to see him cry in my arms when we were in the hotel room, as if he were a helpless child, a helpless little boy... How much that hurt me, but I know that he will come back stronger and I will be by his side through the ups and downs. I just love him a lot and it hurts me to see him like this...

“Oh, amour, I...” he said and he looked at me and smiled shyly. “I love you so much, I don't know how to thank you for everything you do for me... Thank you for always being with me, princess.” he hugged you so much and you dried his tears.

“It's nothing, my boy, you know I'll always be your biggest fan through thick and thin.” you whispered and you kissed him again, pouring your love into the kiss so hard.

At the end of the day it wasn't the birthday he was hoping for or the one you were hoping for for him, but it ended up being a more intimate one, and even a lot more sentimental... Because at the end of it all, you have each other through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, you are his lover and he is yours.

[kamaluhkhan]

all the love we had and lost

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: lots of plot + flashbacks. angst with fluff in betweem. slightly suggestive dialogue/situations but nothing more than the actual show, a guy being pushy about hooking up with reader but nothing happens, mention of injuries and blood throughout, hints of alcoholism, brief mention of dieting (reader is competitive swimmer and deals with certain pressures from that), reader gets her period, takes on too much responsibility and argues with her mother (aka eldest daughter syndrome)

tags: @stargirlsirius-recs, @ifilwtmfc, @qwertyb2577, @allnrsnz, @baconeggndcheez, @peanutbelley, @imogen-skye, @geekinthefuschiahair, @tvije,

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for so much love on my first conrad fic!! i'm so excited to share the rest of the series, so stay tuned :))

read part one here

the best friends of our childhoods are the loves of our lives, and they break our hearts in the worse ways. (fredrik backman)

now — summer, age 18

you throw in some extra sprinkles, along with a few more tablespoons of sugar. belly has a huge sweet tooth. it's the night before her birthday, and you're in the kitchen at the fisher's house baking her coconut confetti cupcakes. 

born on june 21st — the summer solstice — belly conklin is the definition of a summer child. she's summer, personified: sunshine, sweet tea, sand, and smiles. having missed so many birthday celebrations, you’re determined to make this year special.

you go to the fridge to grab some eggs, and when you close the door, you're startled by the person standing behind it.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, holding a hand to your chest and setting the carton of eggs on the counter. the joy you felt making birthday cupcakes for belly fades away, replaced with a tingling in your chest. you and conrad hadn’t spoken more than three sentences to each other, or even been in the same room alone, since that morning on the beach. as the distance between the two of you grew, so did your frustration at him. 

conrad raises his eyebrow at you. he reaches around you into the fridge and pulls out a beer. 

"i should be asking you that." 

"the oven at my house is broken and your mom said i could come over."

“i’ve heard that one before,” he mumbles as he leaves the kitchen. you almost can’t believe he brought it up, even if just in a passing, somewhat snarky remark. conrad probably thought you didn’t hear.

these past few weeks, conrad hasn't just been cold towards you — which was a relief as much as it was heart wrenching. he seems more closed off in general, more inclined to spend time with others who hadn't seen him grow up. in fact, you imagine he’s on his way to see nicole now. maybe with her, he can pretend everything is fine. but not with the people in this house, who knew him inside and out.

you would never admit it — if conrad wants to ignore you, you could ignore him just fine — but it was eating you up inside, and it took everything in you not to confront him, to comfort him about whatever he was going through. you’d have arguments when you were kids, but it was nothing a ring pop or tub of cherry jello couldn’t solve. this time is different; the wound is deeper, harder to heal.

you wanted the old conrad back: the sweet boy who cared for you and let you care for him in return. 

then — summer, age 14

belly was turning 12, and you wanted to surprise her with homemade cupcakes for breakfast. only, the oven at your house was broken, which meant your intention of baking her birthday treats would have fallen through, if not for susannah’s ever-present generosity. 

everyone else was out of the house — you even asked laurel and susannah to take belly shopping to not ruin the surprise. you were decorating the cupcakes when conrad walked in from the deck. his wet hair stuck to his forehead and he was wearing a rash guard, so he probably got back from surfing. he looked paler than usual, even after being in the sun for hours, but you didn’t think much of it at first.

“hey,” he greeted, sounding slightly out of breath. “what are you doing here?” 

“the oven at my house is broken, so your mom said i can come over to bake these for belly’s birthday tomorrow.” you gestured at the clumsily decorated treats. the cupcakes had bright pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. you weren’t a professional by any means, but knew that belly would love them.

“but i’m sure she wouldn’t miss one or two, if you wanna try one,” you offered, smiling at conrad.

he smiled back, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “yeah. yeah, let’s do that. i’m just gonna get changed first.”

conrad walked past you, and that’s when you noticed him limping — along with a bloody gash just below his left knee.

you instantly dropped the spatula back into the half-empty frosting bowl.

“connie, what the hell happened?”

“i’m fine,” he answered. “i wiped out, got cut by the fin of my board.” conrad must have noticed your eyes widened with worry because he grabbed your wrist gently, thumb rubbing soothingly on your pulse point. he was bleeding out on the kitchen floor, and there he was, trying to make sure you were okay. 

“i’m fine,” he reassured. 

the blood dripping down his leg suggested otherwise. years ago conrad would faint at the sight of blood, and though he’d mostly outgrown that, you knew it still made him queasy. you imagined the pain definitely wasn’t making it easier. without another word, you pulled him into the bathroom and made him sit on the edge of the bathtub. you washed your hands then sat cross-legged in front of him.

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” he smirked as he watched you gather supplies from the cabinet underneath the sink, your brows furrowed in concentration.

“what?” you paused, almost laughing. until you saw his wound again, and you got back to work.

“it’s from the hunger games,” he explained. “when katniss finds peeta in the arena? and he’s all, like, injured.”

“well, he was definitely in worse shape than you,” you assured. “your cut’s not that deep, it just looks bad.”

“it doesn’t feel great, either.”

conrad exhaled sharply when you started applying pressure to his leg with a damp washcloth. you placed your other hand on his right knee.

“it’ll be fine, connie. i’ve got you. keep your eyes on me, okay?”

he looked down at you, wet hair framing his face as he offered a short nod. 

you gestured at him to take over, and your fingers brushed together when he grabbed the washcloth, but he never looked down. his eyes still followed you as you searched the bathroom for something to cover his wound.

a comfortable silence followed. the two of you used to spend hours talking, sure, but what you loved about spending time with conrad is that silence didn't bother him. you could each be in your own worlds while in the comfort of each other's company, and that was enough.

once the wound was cleaned and the bleeding slowed down, you placed a gauze pad over his cut before wrapping a cloth bandage around it.

“i’m pretty sure it’s ‘you here to finish me off, sweetheart?’,” you remembered.

conrad shook his head. “i’m pretty sure it’s not. i’ve read the book like, three times.”

you move to sit next to him on the edge of the tub.

“how sure are you, connie? because i’m pretty damn sure.”

conrad shrugged. “i’m pretty damn sure, too.” 

you rolled your eyes, but with a smile. “okay, fine. we’ll check. but, when you see how wrong you are, you have to come with me to see jaws 2.” it was playing at the local movie theatre during their weekly throwback thursday — you and belly had seen it advertised on your way home from getting ice cream. you had wanted to ask conrad, but couldn’t find the right time.

because you hadn’t meant it to be a date, but you also hadn’t not meant it to be. something changed about how you felt towards conrad that summer; or, maybe, you just figured out what was different about the love you felt towards him compared to everyone else. 

(yes, love. again, something you would never admit.)

you thought maybe — maybe he felt it too. there was something different in the way he teased you, laughed with you, looked at you when he thought you couldn’t notice.

you did notice. it happened so much that eventually you decided that either it was all in your head and he didn’t love you that way, or he was also scared of what would happen if he did. which, to be fair, was the position you were in. you were very scared of what would happen if you crossed that line.

“i’ll agree to that,” conrad said. “if you agree to having a picnic with me on the beach. if i have to face my fear of sharks, then you have to face your fear of angry seagulls stealing your food.”

a picnic on the beach. you wondered if this was conrad’s way of subtly asking you on a date. did he also want to cross that line, become something other than friends? he looked at you so eagerly, you hoped he did.

“fine.” you held out your hand. “but you have to protect me from angry seagulls.”

conrad smiled at you brightly as he grasped your hand. 

“always.” 

in the end, conrad lost the bet. the screening of jaws 2 was cancelled, so you rented it from the video store instead. you got his favourite movie snacks, and some of yours as well, and made sure the couch had the comfiest pillows and the warmest blanket. you felt butterflies just thinking about the two of you watching together, cuddling on the couch. 

when the time came though, your plans fell through. the playdates your siblings had lined up both cancelled. your mother had plans to meet a friend at the bar, and claimed she couldn't reschedule. by then your parents were divorced and your father was elsewhere with his new girlfriend, so it fell to you to babysit your siblings.

conrad came over anyway: he helped you make rice and lentils for dinner, convinced your brother to eat his vegetables, and let your sister paint his nails. the four of you watched night at the museum and ate all the junk food you had gotten, with you and conrad sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but stealing glances and shy smiles at each other. when your mother came home, a bit after midnight and a little tipsy, she got angry that you’d kept the twins up so late and cheated on the diet she had so carefully planned for you — to keep you in shape for swimming, she claimed. you rolled your eyes, and that made her angrier. without you saying anything, conrad took the twins upstairs to get ready for bed as you and your mother argued. by the time conrad walked back downstairs, your mother had gone into the living room for another drink and you were in tears. he asked if you were okay, and you told him to go home.

you never talked about that night again, and everything went back to the way it was: with neither of you crossing that line.

now

the only reason you let belly drag you to nicole’s party is because it’s her birthday. 

as soon as you enter the house, nicole and the other debutantes whisk belly away to a table filled with elaborate cakes. you can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed by how elegant they look in comparison to the cupcakes you made her. 

"come on," taylor groans. "let's get a drink."

taylor grabs two beers and hands one to you. you gratefully accept. the two of you catch up for a bit, when suddenly jeremiah starts serenading belly in an outrageously funny musical number. you laugh along with them, until you catch a glimpse of conrad with nicole on the couch at the other end of the room. nicole is sitting in conrad's lap, and she leans over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. your entire body heats up.

conrad was right before: you were jealous. as frustrated as you were with him, you were even angrier at yourself for feeling that way. 

"i’m gonna go find the bathroom!” taylor says, practically shouting over the music. 

"okay!” you yell back. “i’m gonna go get another drink." 

you know all too well that it isn’t a good habit to get into, but you need something stronger if you’re going to survive this party. you examine the drink table, finally picking out some mediocre tequila. you take a shot, then another.

“tequila. my kind of girl.” someone declares, creeping up behind you. 

it’s a terrible pick up line, and you already have a feeling that the guy trying to flirt with you is some rich entitled asshole. 

but, the guy — liam — can hold a decent conversation, and he’s cute enough.

he’s no conrad, though. you take another shot when that thought crosses your mind, and force yourself to flirt with leo. liam. right, liam.

liam leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze linger on the deep v-neck of your shirt. you’re so close, you can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

“five minutes,” you boast after he asks how long you can hold your breath underwater. somehow, the conversation veered towards your time as a competitive swimmer. you’re just the right amount of tipsy that your inhibitions start fading away.

“wow,” liam says. “i have to say, i’m glad you didn’t have that training camp this summer.”

you bat your eyelashes at him. “oh? why is that?” you lean closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

“because then i wouldn’t be able to do this.” 

liam kisses you then, and you kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. you feel nothing. it’s fine.

“let's go upstairs.”

liam’s grabbing your wrist before you have a chance to answer. as he tries to tug you up the stairs, your eyes meet conrad’s from across the room.

suddenly, you feel nauseous. you rip away from liam’s grip and place a hand on the wall next to you to steady yourself.

liam turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just hang out downstairs.”

liam grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” 

this time, your voice comes out louder. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“don’t be a bitch, then,” he scoffs, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose. “do you wanna fuck, or not?”

“i don’t,” you answer instantly, struggling to break free from his grip. 

“okay, whatever. we don’t have to go all the way, but we can still go upstairs, and have a good time.”

he manages to drag you up two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage, forcing liam to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he groans.

“just stop, liam.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little girl. “i know what girls want, so you don’t have to be shy. we’re going upstairs right now and —”

“liam, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s belly, giving liam one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. belly, who if you cut open, would bleed sugar. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my friend.”

“whatever,” liam answers, rolling his eyes. “if you don’t mind, we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you forward, but you stand your ground.

jeremiah is also glaring at liam from the bottom of the stairs, his golden retriever personality long gone. “back off, man,” he warns.

“just mind your own business,” liam snaps.

“they said leave her alone,” steven asserts, walking over once he sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” he clenches his hand into a fist as if proving a point.

in other situations, you and belly have definitely teased steven for his tendency to act all tough, but right now, you couldn’t be more grateful.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” belly orders. 

“i think she can speak for herself. she wants this, but if you’re jealous, you can join, too.” 

your stomach churns. liam leans in close to whisper in your ear. “maybe we’ll see if those 5 minutes come in handy when you’re sucking my —”

as soon as liam lets go of your wrist, his hand trailing downward, you shove him away and punch him in the nose before he can finish his sentence. you deliver a final blow to liam’s ego as he’s doubled over:

“what i want is for you to leave us the fuck alone. there are other people in this house who i’d rather hook up with. people who aren’t complete assholes with fancy cars to compensate for their tiny dick.”

the flirtatious smile falls from liam’s face, replaced with the kind of anger only rich entitled assholes have when they don’t get what they want — figures that he only gets the hint when it literally hits him right in the nose. he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you fall down the stairs, but belly manages to catch you before you hit the ground. she holds you as jeremiah and steven step in front. you hear them shouting at liam over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and the room is suddenly all fuzzy.

“i’ve got her.” conrad’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist. “go find cam — the rest of us have been drinking, but he can drive her home.”

somehow, you find yourself in a bathroom, sitting on the counter as conrad stands between your legs. he carefully examines your injury, but you notice how he avoids making eye contact. 

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” the question slips past your lips before you could stop it.

conrad looks slightly amused, and he finally meets your gaze. “that’s not the line,” he deadpans. you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him all night) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

but, still, he remembers. his comment earlier and his smile right now is all the confirmation you need: somewhere in the back of his mind, he replays memories of you. no matter how cold he acts towards you, he still cares.

he continues wiping the blood off your face. “how’s your hand?” he asks.

you flex your fingers, inspect your hand. “it’s been better,” you answer, though your knuckles are slightly aching. “worth it.”

“i guess all those years away made you a badass.”

all those years away. the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, but you wouldn’t let it burst the comfortable bubble you and conrad had somehow stumbled into. 

instead, you offer him a lopsided smile.

“oh, connie,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “i was always a badass.”

“yeah, yeah. but it’s different now. you’re different.” he pauses. you’re worried he’s going to say something else. 

but he doesn’t. instead, he asks, jokingly: “did you join a fight club or something?” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s trying to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it, before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re both heartbroken and not talking to each other. 

“you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

conrad laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

a silence falls over you, one that’s not unfamiliar, but not entirely comfortable either. conrad holds the cloth against your nose to make sure the bleeding stopped. 

it seemed to be a strange pattern between you two — being there for each other when you bleed.

then — summer, age 12

it was the end of july when you got your first period. 

you had made lunch for your siblings and walked them to their day camp, when you suddenly felt an ache in your abdomen. that ache turned into a sharp pain by the time you got home, and you ran to the bathroom to confirm what you’d suspected. 

that afternoon, mr. conklin was taking all the kids to mini golf, but you weren’t feeling up for it. you texted belly about what happened and spent the rest of the day curled up in bed.

you didn’t hear him knock over the sound of the movie you were watching, but suddenly you saw conrad standing by your door, holding a bag from the candy shop. 

“jesus, connie, you scared me!” you exclaimed, pausing the movie. 

he smiled sheepishly and flopped down on the bed next to you. “belly told me you weren’t feeling well. here.” he handed you the bag. 

you opened the bag, grateful that conrad picked out your favourite treats. you take one and bite into it. your stomach growled — you hadn’t eaten earlier because you felt nauseous, but now you could eat that entire bag in one go.

“how was mini golf?” you asked, popping another treat into your mouth.

“it was awesome! i finally managed to get past that giant hippo and get a hole-in-one. i got the highest score.”

you frown, wishing you had been there. if anything, to beat conrad’s score. 

“don’t worry, we’ll go back another time,” conrad added. “you can beat me then.” sometimes, you swore conrad could read your mind. he then asked if you were feeling better.

“no. i got my period,” you huffed. “it sucks.”

“oh.” conrad adjusted his glasses, a sign that he felt awkward. “i’ve heard about those. they sound pretty brutal.”

“health class?”

“no. my mom, actually.”

health class wasn’t much help for you either, and neither was your mother. you were lucky enough to have susannah and laurel, who had explained everything to you and belly. 

“anyway, what are you watching?”

“the hunger games,” you answer. “i just finished the book.”

“cool.” 

conrad didn’t move — he actually leaned back against the pillows even more — so you figured he wanted to stay. you moved the laptop so it sat between the two of you and started playing the movie again.

“you know, it doesn’t seem fair that you miss out on having fun just because of your period,” conrad said as katniss finds peeta injured in the arena.

you frown, about to point out that he has no idea how painful cramps can be.

he lifted his hand up to stop you. “not that i can judge what you’re going through. i’m just saying when it’s this bad, instead of being alone, just text me, and i’ll be there.”

when the time came, he watched movies with you in bed. he brought you junk food and pain killers. he even biked to the store when you’d run out of pads.

he was there for you, just like he promised.

now

those moments from past summers now feel warm and sickly sweet, like popsicles melting in the sun — then again, that might just be the remnants of tequila flowing through your veins. you think about what happened earlier, how belly, jeremiah, and steven stepped in to protect you. how conrad is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve ignored each for so long. it’s like nothing changed. but once you leave this bathroom and the alcohol leaves your system, it wouldn’t be the same. you feared you'd never get that magic back, and that weighed on your chest so much, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“why’d you go for liam, anyway?” conrad asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes the cloth from your nose so you can answer, and the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. liam’s an asshole. and you’re…” conrad places his hands on either side of your thighs, leaning close. “you.”

“i went for liam because….well, honestly, i didn’t care who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with conrad is running out. 

conrad’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s so close that it’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on conrad’s. it's not the most elegant kiss — it's messy, urgent, with your noses bumping together, and teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. you taste beer on his tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. you tangle your hands into his hair, and you swallow his moan as you gently tug. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him.

when you run out of air, feeling like your lungs could burst, you pull away. conrad’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“connie,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

conrad wipes away your blood with the cuff of his flannel. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. jeremiah, letting you know that it’s time to go. 

and, just like that, the moment is gone. 

a few days later, belly invites you over for a girl’s night. you paint each other’s nails, eat sour candy, and watch rom coms, just like you used to. she updates you on debutante season, the argument she had with taylor, and her blossoming feelings for jeremiah. you let it slip that you and conrad kissed at nicole’s party, though you admit you aren’t sure what it means — as if you hadn’t spent hours and hours thinking about the kiss, about him. belly gives you a knowing smile, but you change the subject before she can comment any further.

you’re halfway through 10 things i hate about you when belly falls asleep. you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to conrad, when you get a text from him.

he’s already on the dock when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you stand next to him. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell belly that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “but…would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, belly’s close to nicole and i don’t want her finding out," conrad explains. his words are deliberate, and you suspect he'd spent some time perfecting what to say to you. so far, you didn't like where this was going. conrad delivers another blow:

"it’s not like it meant anything.”

you feel like you could shatter into a million pieces right then and there.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to conrad’s stoic demeanor.

conrad shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with liam happened, so we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing other than friendship?”

he turned away before he answered. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he pauses, and you know you caught him off guard. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit has happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, conrad.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay conrad’s words as you crawl into bed next to belly, holding back tears as to not disturb her sleep.

you decide then that you didn’t love conrad anymore. you couldn’t because it would eat you up inside. 

then again, it doesn't seem like hating him would be any easier.

[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.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Domestica - A Joel Miller Drabble

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 1,100 Summary: It's Joel's birthday, you're the best gift he can ask for. Warnings: No outbreak (happy birthday bb), smut, domestic fluff, Joel's POV. A/N: This absolutely planted in my brain and I couldn't do anything until I wrote it out. Masterlist

Heavy footsteps down the stairs, the jingle of his belt as he buckles it, the sound of a metal fork clanging against a glass bowl as eggs are whisked, the sizzle of bacon frying in the pan, Sarah gently humming a tune as the the orange juice pitcher glugs. Breakfast in the Miller household every morning plays all of the familiar sounds he loves to hear. 

Every morning he wakes up reaching for you, but you’re an even earlier riser than him. The side of your bed empty, the plant that used to sit half dead on the bedside table now blooming and healthy, akin to how he feels about his life ever since you entered it. 

——

He wraps his arms around you as you stand at the stove flipping bacon in the pan, sneaking a kiss to your neck as Sarah’s back is turned away. “Mornin’,” he breathes against your ear loving how you instantly mold to his body.  

Your body fits so perfectly against his, no matter what time of day. Innocent morning hugs while Sarah’s around, lazy evening cuddles on the couch after dinner, smoldering night time hips meeting as he enters you. 

“Happy birthday,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you softly thud your head against his broad chest. “You forgot to buy pancake mix, so it’s eggs and bacon for breakfast.”

“Fine by me,” he says against your head, kissing the top of it before pulling away to pour himself a cup of coffee. He refills your empty cup without asking, adding a heaping spoonful of creamer and a sprinkle of sugar, knowing exactly how you take it. 

The best present he can be given today is seeing his girls at his table, you making Sarah giggle as you tease her about the actor she has a crush on. His hand on your thigh choosing to eat one handed because you’re still wearing your sleep shorts, those same shorts he peeled off your body last night before bed. 

The diamond on your finger glinting in the sunlight pouring in from the windows, he moves his hands up to it to pet the hard stone, proud of himself for finding the ring of your dreams. He remembers the tears welling in your eyes as he asked you to marry him, those same eyes he looks for in a crowd, the same eyes that brighten when they see him. 

“Bear, did you remember to grab the extra pack of highlighters I had in my desk?” He loves how you have your own pet name for Sarah. He loves how you’ve stepped right into being a coparent with him, leaving him feeling like he’s no longer struggling underwater slowly being drowned by his job and trying to be the best single parent he can be. He loves that Sarah loves you as much he loves you. You’re his gift that keeps on giving.

“Yep, thank you!” she winks at you, he loves how he can instantly tell the two of you are scheming together and how bad the two of you are at playing coy.

“I gotta get ready before it’s any late,” you rise from the table. “Be good today Bear,” he’ll never tire of seeing the way his daughter smiles as you kiss the top of her forehead. He swears your influence has kept her just as sweet in her teenage years as she was as a little girl. 

“I’ll be up later to say goodbye after Tommy gets here,” he says as you bend over and kiss his cheek. 

——

He can hear the shower on, a song quietly playing on the shower radio that you sing along to. The mirror’s fogged up, he can smell the sweet scent of your body wash wafting through the air mixing with the steam. “Baby, I’m leaving now,” he speaks over the song. 

“Okay,” you open the shower door, naked and soaking wet, his hands tighten into frustrated fists because he can’t join you. “Still going to be late?” 

“Afraid so,” he stands outside the tub, the walls of it his own blockade stopping him from being any later. 

“Well, Sarah and I will go get a cake for you so at least you’ll have that whenever you get home,” you lean forward, your body dripping water on the floor and his boots.

“Thanks baby,” he wraps his arms around you, he doesn’t care how wet you’re getting his shirt, it’ll be a nice reminder of your body against his as it dries. 

“I love you,” you look up at him and smile waiting for a kiss. “Have a good birthday day.”

“I’ll miss you,” his lips brush against yours, restraining himself to keep the kiss from turning heated. 

A honk from outside rattles him out of the daydream of stripping off his clothes and joining you, pushing your naked body against the wall and fucking you against it.

“You better get going,” you lean away and step back under the water. 

“Shit,” he adjusts the crotch of his jeans as you giggle at his predicament. 

“Goodbye birthday boy, love you,” you shut the shower door, going right back to singing your song on the radio. 

He stomps down the stairs annoyed that the last vision he’ll have of you on this birthday morning is you naked and smiling at him while water drips down your body. 

——

That night after tucking Sarah in with a kiss on her forehead and a stroke of her soft cheek as she sleeps, he walks into his room to find you laid out on the bed, only the thin sheet covering your body, your eyes staring at him with a smirk on your lips. You look like a temptress, and he’s fallen under your spell. 

“Happy birthday baby,” you whisper as you climb on top of him.

The gasp you let out as he enters you, shared moans muffled by each other’s lips, your slick squelching as he fucks into you, his tongue lapping up your wetness, the slurp of your lips as you suck him. Nighttime in Joel’s room plays all of the familiar sounds he thinks about during the day. The thought of seeing the way you smile whenever he sticks his cock in you gets him through the worst of days. 

——

In the early morning he wakes up sweaty and panicked, panting for air terrified from his nightmare. You turn over, and grab the hand on his chest, soothing him back to sleep with your sweet voice and soft body against his reassuring him he hasn’t lost anything. 

[hollowdeath]

more of my own personal headcanons about harry <3

sharing clothes would be his favorite thing in the world. he'd love seeing you in his biggest hoodies/sweaters, fawning over how cute you look with them hanging off you. he'd get particularly happy when you sleep in them, waking up in the morning with messy hair wearing an old t-shirt of his. he'd also love getting them back & still being able to smell you on them.

always tapping, drumming, & fidgeting with his hands. always itching to do something, can't sit still for more than 2 seconds. gets lost in his thoughts constantly. always drifting off in his own world & accidentally missing parts of conversations.

cooking breakfast for you is the best way for him to start his day. he knows exactly how you like your tea, eggs, pancakes, even your favorite cereals and oatmeals. he'll sit in bed with you and just chat while you eat, asking how you like it as he eats his toast.

BEST gift-giver ever. like seriously. this kid knows exactly what to get someone, anyone, for both birthdays & christmases, & he always outdoes himself. always carefully listening & taking notes anytime you mention something you saw that you liked or thought about getting. tries to get you things you would never treat yourself to; money's no object when it comes to your look of surprise & joy opening his gifts.

again, physical touch is his love language, but he particularly LOVES when you play with his hair. he'll just lay his head in your lap hoping you'll get the hint & start running your fingers through his soft hair. he doesn't really like having long hair, but he certainly likes when you have more to play with, so he grows it out just for you. if he's especially stressed out or can't sleep the only thing that can bring him back to earth is your hands tangled in his hair.

constantly doing little good deeds even when people aren't around. picks up trash/litter he sees, leaves generous tips everywhere he goes, casts a quick spell to help someone in need, & always makes it a point to talk to more introverted people to make them comfortable around him. always gives the best advice when he notices someone struggling.

[dellalyra]

happy (late) birthday to gojo! i wonder how the family spent his birthday but also i wonder how the crew used to celebrate each other’s birthdays when they were younger!

𝟏𝟕/𝟑𝟔

𝑃𝑖𝑥𝑖𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑠：𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒，𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ.

𝐶𝑊：𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓，𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑏𝑐 𝑜𝑏𝑣𝑠 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑛’𝑠 𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑑𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠， 𝑠��𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔，𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑙𝑚𝑘 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔♡︎

“Shoko wait - that’s salt! Don’t put salt in the damn cake.”

“Why not? It would be funny.” She shrugs.

“Imagine how insufferable he would be, Sho.” Suguru intervenes.

“Did you get the balloons?” You ask Suguru.

“Yeah, they’re up in your dorm room. He comes barging into mine too much so yours was the best option.”

“I still can’t believe he’s never had a real birthday, like with sweets and soda and balloons.” You shake your head.

“Yeah, pretty fucking depressing to only have ‘formal birthday celebrations’ with stuffy old farts for your whole life.” Shoko says, sucking on a lollipop.

“Part and parcel of being the heir to a big three family, I suppose.” Suguru shrugs, watching you beat eggs into the cake mixture.

“What did you guys get him?” You ask.

“I got him this enormous basket of candy - like imported stuff too.” Shoko says - making you wonder if she’s opened it to take the lollipop she’s currently eating.

“Mine is a surprise. His parents got him an Armani coat and Tom Ford ankle boots, and then the trip to Bali for the four of us.” Suguru interjects.

“Rich people shit.” The three of you say in unison.

At 9pm that night, after a trip to the arcade with Suguru serving as a distraction to Satoru - they approached the building, where Satoru say the common room lights quickly switch off in the distance. He didn’t really understand why the silhouettes of you and Shoko were crouching behind a door, but he figured it was probably some weird girl shit.

Opening the door - shouts of ‘surprise!’ blasted through the room from you and Shoko and Suguru behind him. Big blue balloons were decorating the room with a banner saying ‘happy 17th birthday Satoru!’ hung crookedly on the wall. Gojo’s jaw dropped open at the sight before him, wrapped boxes on the table with a huge assortment of snacks and pizza boxes stacked behind them. Suguru moved from behind him and stood beside you and Shoko as you all blew party poppers toward him, showering him in colourful paper confetti. You run up, hands behind your bag and tug his shoulder for him to lean down to your height as you place a sparkly blue paper party hat on his head, securing it around his chin with a pat to the cheek - the shiny colour of your eyes and lightly glossed lips made him feel more faint than any injury could.

Not that he has a crush on you, or anything. You’re just best friends.

“Happy birthday Satoru!” You chime, giggling and clapping your hands.

“What is all this?” He asks.

“Your birthday party, dolt.” Shoko pokes at him.

“After you said you had only had formal ‘birthday events’ with your clan we thought we’d give you a proper birthday.” Suguru smirks, ruffling his best friends hair.

“We know it’s not as fancy -” You begin.

“This is so fucking cool.” He breathes - poking at the balloons with awe.

It makes sense to you all. His awe, his delighted face and joy laced in his voice. This - fun, homely, relaxed, happy - vibe, this is far more Satoru than any sit down, six course formal meal could ever be.

You can’t help but admire him as he scans through all the sweets laid out on the table, throwing caramel popcorn to Suguru to catch in his mouth. The smile on his face and the warmth in his bright blue eyes emphasise the loose drape of his long limbs, body relaxed and oh-so-happy. You think that happy Satoru is the prettiest Satoru there is. If Satoru asked for the moon wrapped in a pretty box for his birthday, then that’s probably what you’d do.

Not that you’ve a crush on him, or anything. You’re just best friends.

Shoko pushes him to sit down, and dips under the table - pulling out a huge wicker basket and heaving it toward him.

“Here. A gift.” She nods.

He wastes no time in ripping the cellophane obstructing the view of inside off and squeals like a piglet when he sees the sheer mass of sugar in there. He launches himself at Shoko, who just lazily pats him on the shoulder, warning him of cavities and how she won’t pay for any dental care as a result.

Suguru leaves the room, coming back with a cardboard carrier box.

“Oi, Satoru - here’s your gifts from me. Before you open the box, open this first.” He says, languid smirk on his face.

Suguru hands him a tiny box, about the size of a matchbox. Satoru slides it open and pulls out the contents. The puzzled look on his face doesn’t explain the mystery further. You scoot closer, peaking at the contents. Inside, lay three tiny pairs of sunglasses.

“Suguru, I love the sentiment but - I’m not sure these’ll fit me bro.” Satoru says, holding a pair to his nose.

“Open the box.” Suguru says, sitting on the armchair that Shoko has perched herself on the arm off and stretching his arms behind his head.

Satoru does as he’s told, and folds open the lid of the carrier box. The tilt of his head when he looks inside gives nothing away, apart from his complete confusion.

The box seems to rustle, and the nature of your cursed energy calls you toward small life forces inside.

Satoru turns to you, the resident animal lover, and shows you the box.

Inside, are three tiny, fluffy, snow white gerbils.

You begin to coo over them, noticing how healthy and socialised they are (growing up with your technique lead to an innate ability to bond and observe animals, which may have caused your parents pet count to rise from 1 to 17).

Satoru just looks at Suguru.

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.” He says.

“Just thought you needed some familiar faces.” Suguru snorts.

“The sunglasses? Three white rodents? Really, Suguru?! You see Shrek once and decided I’m leader of the three blind mice?!” Satoru retorts.

Shoko is in hysterical laughter as you completely zone out, petting and holding the little menaces in your arms.

“Suguru - you’re an evil genius.” You shake your head.

“Highest of compliments.” He responds.

“Wait - Geto - how the fuck do you expect Satoru to look after three gerbils? He’s - like - he’s Satoru.” Shoko nods in the gerbils direction.

“A responsibility lesson.” Suguru shrugs.

“How do I look after gerbils?! I’m not ready to be a dad! What do they eat? Is steak okay? Or maybe pizza? Do they need to swim like a turtle?! Y/N - what do I do?! You’ll help me, won’t you?!” Satoru begins listing off what he feels he needs to know to care for them.

Like you could ever deny him anything - of course you would, especially when he asks with that pretty pout.

“Course I will, Satoru. You gotta name them.” You nod.

He thinks for a moment, before smirking that smirk that spells trouble every time.

“Isamu, Hiroto and Daiki.” He declares.

“Random, but okay. Not like… fluffy, or whiskers or something that’s more eh - pet name style?” Shoko questions.

“Nah, white haired rodents? I’m calling them after the Gojo elders.” He snorts, devilish smile on his face as you all decent into laughter.

After settling the gerbils into their cage (a gift, courtesy of Yaga), you sheepishly slide a box toward Satoru, it’s small and wrapped in polar bear print paper.

“Happy Birthday, Satoru.” You smile, blushing.

He rips open the box and immediately falters. His casual smirk replaced with an awestruck gape.

“Is this…?”

“Yeah.” You nod.

Inside the box, was a delicate silver bracelet - with a circular medal in the center engraved with all four of your initials and the day you all started at Jujutsu Tech.

“Fucking hell, you really had to show us up like that Y/N?” Shoko groans, knowing your gift was by far the most sentimental.

“I hope you like it. If you don’t I kept the receipt so we can return it for -” You turn to the birthday boy.

“I love it.” He says, lifting his head to look at you.

“You’re per- It’s perfect. I - Help me put it on?” Satoru quickly fixes his slip of the tongue which you luckily didn’t notice but had Shoko and Suguru snickering.

You smile, helping him clasp it around his wrist and clapping when it’s a perfect fit.

“Yay! I’m so happy you like it!” You giggle.

“I like it a lot.” He says, not looking at the bracelet.

36

“Happy birthday, papa!” Came a loud voice, accompanied by excessive bouncing on the bed as the birthday boy himself woke up.

“Papa!” Came a more slurred voice with a giggle, and a small smack to his cheek with a chubby fist.

Satoru opens his eyes, seeing his 5 year old son and 2 year old daughter sitting on him on the bed, and beside them the woman who brought them into the world - shining in the morning sun, looking at him with eyes full of forever.

“We made you waffles!” Akio shouts.

“Waffle!” Mirai nods.

“You did! I am so spoiled! Did you two do them all by yourselves?!” Satoru asks, plopping Mirai on his lap which Akio has just vacated.

“No, papa. We had help!” The boy runs around to you, asking you to tie up his shoulder length white hair.

“Well, c’mon then! I’ve been promised waffles!” He ushers the two of them out of the room as they run toward the kitchen.

He turns around in the bed, seeing you smiling at him.

“Happy birthday, ‘toru.” You say, cupping his cheek and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Every day feels like my birthday with you around, princess.” He smirks, rolling on top of you and kissing you back.

“Charmer.” You giggle.

“Is it working?” He asks.

“We’ve been married for 10 years and have two children together and have raised 2 others. It worked a long time ago. Truth be told, it worked even before I gave you this.” You say, fiddling with the silver bracelet on his wrist.

The jokingly fist bumps the air, even though he’s been fully aware your heart beats solely for him - and has done his you were 16.

“C’mon, handsome. Breakfast awaits along with a little surprise.” You say, lifting yourself off the bed as he does the same, standing and stretching and revealing a back of toned, strong muscles and biceps as he shakes out his fluffy hair.

“On second thought…” you smirk, biting your lip.

“Yeah? What’s that thought?” He smiles, wrapping an arm around you waist and kneading the peachy rise of your ass in his big hands, before sliding his hands up to your waist hidden under the fluffy robe you wore.

“That there might be another surprise for you tonight, and I have planned for the kids to have a sleepover.” You smile, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand before swirling your tongue around his index finger, batting your eyelashes up at his far taller frame.

“You expect me to go through a whole day waiting for a surprise after this little display?” He groans, pouting like he did when at 18 you told him he couldn’t have his birthday cake until his actual birthday.

You just smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before sauntering down the hall with an extra sway of your hips.

After a minute, he comes bouncing down the stairs and is greeted with the most incredible view.

Inside the kitchen, a now 21 year old Yuuji Itadori is wearing a floral apron and surrounded by plates of waffles and smiling.

“Happy birthday, Gojo-Sensei!” He says, before throwing his full strength muscular body at his old teacher.

“I didn’t know you were here! Thank, kid!” He smiles, ruffling Itadori’s hair.

“You made the waffles?” He asks.

From around the corner comes a chuckle and a giggle, as his daughter launches herself from her Uncle Soso’s arms and sprints toward her dad, ever the most loyal daddy’s girl.

“Papa’s day!” She squeals as she’s scooped up into her dad’s strong hold.

“Hello, cupcake. Were you playing with Uncle Soso?” He says, kissing her chubby cheeks as she nods, stroking his hair like her momma does.

“Happy birthday, Satoru.” Choso smiles, hugging him tight. Choso had really seen this family and said ‘yes, this one please.’ Actually, it was a two way street. You saw a sad, grieving man who loved as fiercely as you did and said ‘yes, this is my brother now.’

Itadori says when you or Gojo see a ‘stray’ it’s the epitome of the ‘you’re my friend now, we’re having soft tacos tonight’ TikTok sound.

“Thanks, Cho.” Satoru responds with a smile and a squeeze to the shoulder, almost forgetting he isn’t actually his brother-in-law.

The back door opens, and in comes a slightly snowy Shoko Ieiri, who catches his eye.

“Happy birthday, fuckwad.” She says, flicking him in the arm.

“Wow, so kind and gentle. Such a great godmother to set an incredible example.” He smiles, knowing that her greeting was actually the sign that Shoko truly loved him like a brother.

He knew why she’s been outside, she had followed the little pathway to the big tree where a black memorial plaque in a grove on the cottage’s surrounding land. You and him would go down there later.

She stick out her tongue at him and he laughs, rounding the corner to where the table lay.

Sat at the table was you, with your son on your lap - a diligent mama’s boy as you laughed with him, each holding a controller for your baby pink Switch as you raced in Mario Kart.

Beside you, standing up and holding an extortionately large jug of peach juice was his eldest. Megumi was shaking his head at whatever his little brother was saying and the hint of a smile could be seen in the upturned corner of his lips. He flicks his eyes up.

“Happy birthday, dad.” He says, and is immediately pulled into a bone crushing hug with kisses dotted across his face.

“My eldest! My firstborn! We sweet little man!” He cooed as the 21 year old man (only 3 inches shorter than his father, now fully grown) shoves and growls his way out of the intense affection.

“Nawh, let him have his cuddles ‘Gumi. He gets one day a year where he can annoy you without repercussions.” You laugh.

In the midst of the chaos, you and Akio slip away into the kitchen.

Itadori and Choso come in, and sit down followed by Shoko.

Gojo takes his normal seat beside your seat and pours a coffee with extra extra sugar.

Then a small chorus starts up, two small voices and one pretty one - soon turned into the whole room (even Megumi).

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday dear Papa/Dad/Gojo/‘Toru,

Happy birthday to you!”

followed by -

“Hip hip, hooray!”

Akio is carefully holding a stack of waffles, with a flickering candle reading ‘36’ on top and Mirai has paper plates in her hands, as you walk behind them - hands out just in case.

He takes the heavy plate from his son, grateful for his 5 year olds inheritance of his father’s physical strength and height, and blows out the candle, pressing a kiss to the crown of his son’s head.

“Thank you, my lil’ mochi.”

“Make a wish, papa!” Akio shouts.

“Papa wish!”

He looks at the table, wife perched on his lap and surrounded by family.

“No need.” He says, squeezing your thigh.

“Such a sap.” You say, burying your head in his neck.

Everyone tucks into their breakfast, and the sound of happy chatter is soon interrupted by an angry voice of a toddler who inherited her mother’s temper.

“Fuckwad!” Mirai shouted.

You all spin to look at her, and see she dropped a piece of her waffle only for it to be swept away by a fluffy grey cat.

“Shoko?” You ask.

“Yeah, that one was me.” She nods.

You all burst out laughing, before Megumi turns around and asks.

“Are we making it a tradition that the kids learn a new curse every family occasion, cos this is round two.”

“Hey! It's your birthday in two weeks, babe! How about dipshit for that one?“ Yuuji exclaims.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Partners in Crime 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Lee Bodecker

Summary: you're left reeling after your divorce but the chaos has only begun. (short!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You hate the mall. Too bright. Too loud. Too fast. 

That day isn’t so bad. Tuesday, mid-morning. Most people are at work. Not you. Your part-time gig barely pays the bills, let alone keeps you busy. With that in mind, you shouldn’t be there to spend what little you have.  

It’s for a good cause. It’s your grandmother’s birthday next week and you owe her. After all she’s done, you owe much more than just a measly mall-bough gift but it’s all you can manage right now. One day it will be better. One day you will be able to pay her back. At least you keep telling yourself that. 

She paid for it all. Your way out, your lawyer, your apartment even. You can’t live in the senior’s community with her, that’s against the rules, but she parsed out some of her nest egg for the flat in the old brick building. For you. She’s the only one who ever did so much for you but what did you ever do for her? 

It’s not for lack of trying, only your own poor decisions. 

You enter the sparkling Swarovski store and keep your arms tight to your body, paranoid of breaking any of the numerous crystal pieces. You don’t know what she would like. It isn’t because you don’t know her well, you just don’t think she has much use for any of it. She’s always been painfully practical. That’s why you never wanted to ask her for help. 

An associate startles you as she appears beside you in her sleek black pantsuit. She offers help but you get the sense she’s checking in, making sure your hands aren’t sneaking into your pockets. You make sure to keep them visible and move your satchel across your back. You tell her you’re just looking and blow out between your dry lips. Maybe a hoodie wasn’t the best choice. 

It was meant to be a solution. You wanted to get out of your grandmother’s hair. How long had you been living with her? He was the answer to that. You thought so. You wanted to believe it. For ten years, you tried. He always spoiled it. 

Then she had to bail you out anyway. 

As you come to the sharp corner of a shelf, you’re startled by another customer. You hadn’t seen them when you came in or heard them. You glance at them fleetingly and turn your attention to the shelf of Mickey Mouse decorations. Definitely not those. 

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” the man frightens you again as he nears and presses his hand to your back. He sidles by, and you dodge away from him, coming dangerously close to colliding with the display of birthstone necklaces. 

You shake off the close brush and blink at the glass. You peek over at the man as he seems overly interested in a paper weight shaped like a dove. His mustache and sleek haircut make him look like he’s been plucked out of some gangster period piece.  

The associate shifts from one side of the counter to the other. She’s watching you. You sigh. She still thinks you’re a thief. You shake your head and leave. 

It’s not worth the trouble or the money. You can find something better. You know you could get your grandma a box of chocolates and a card and she’d say she’s happy. You don’t want to get her what works; you want to do something for someone. Something more than just be there. 

You go down to Hallmark. It’s a similar atmosphere with a hint of warmness and more range in price. Still too much Disney and not enough variety. Your grandmother doesn’t need a rustic crate or a door sign with some snarky saying about wine. 

You stop to look at cards. You can at least grab one of those. As you reach for one along the top row, another hand swipes it from your grasp. You back up and look at the culprit. It’s the same man as the Swarovski shop. Strange. 

You recoil and scurry down the aisle towards the door. Is he following you? It could be a coincidence. Two stores. If he’s looking for a gift too, it makes sense. 

You cross your arms and march quickly through the bright mall, the skylight glaring down at you. You walk in and out of a clothes shop. You don’t know where you’re going now. You’re frazzled. 

You find your way to the As Seen on TV shop and meander around without intent. You’re at a loss. You’ll just end up at the bookstore like always. Another book for her birthday. Wowee. 

She might like the salt rock light. You don’t know. Ugh. 

It isn’t the gift. It isn’t her. It’s you. You’re indecisive. You're lost. Even if it was misery, you miss having someone to tell you what to do. Now you have to think and you do too much of that. 

“Those are pretty cool,” a voice slices through your self-pity. 

It’s the same man. Your eyes meet as you look up to see him. You blanch and open and close your mouth. The shop is so small, how hadn’t you heard him? 

You retreat without a word. He must be following you. There’s no other explanation. What do you do? You can’t just lead him out of the mall, back to your building, but how can you divert him? 

You find a bench down the next aisle of the mall, somewhere the associates in the vitamin store can see you. You’re safe there with people around. You look up and down, searching for the man and his mustache. Just a mother with her stroller. 

You’re paranoid. Stupid, just like he said. It’s all in your head. You’re just fucked up. You don’t know how to live in this world. Not alone. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the timbre tickles up the back of your spine and you twist to see the figure behind you. It’s an officer in uniform. “Mind if I ask ya something?” 

You nod and blink. You don’t like the cops. You haven’t spoken to them since the night it all came crashing down. The flashing lights, the sirens, the questions. It’s all a haze yet it’s stamped into your psyche. 

“Yes, sir,” you stand. 

He’s got dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. His shoulders bear a slant of authority as he has his hands on his hips. He’s taller than you, but so is everyone. You look across the bench at him as his white shirt pokes out from under his leather jacket, his belly straining the fabric. 

“You don’t gotta trouble yerself,” he shows his palm and reaches with his other hand to his belt, “I’m lookin’ for someone and was wonderin’ if maybe ya saw him.” 

“Oh?” You crinkle your forehead. 

“Got a pic somewhere,” he frees his phone from the clip on his belt and flicks his thumb over the screen, “here we are.” 

He turns the cell toward you and you can’t help but make a face. The image is blurry but it’s definitely that same man. You look back the way you came and gulp. 

“Reckon by that, you’ve seen him,” the officer says. “Sheriff Bodecker,” he introduces as he retracts his hand, “I’m doing an investigation. Mind if I ask some more questions?" 

“Well, I... didn’t talk to him.” 

“That’s fine,” he peers down in the same direction you did. The infant in its stroller begins to yawl and his cheek ticks, “how about you come out to my cruiser and we’ll do it there? Less ruckus?” 

You purse your lips. You can’t really say no, he might think you know that guy, whoever he is, whatever he’s done. You shrug. You don’t have much to say. You’re sure it won’t be much of an interview. 

“Okay,” you agree.” 

[darsynia]

Banana (Steve/f!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: Steve unexpectedly stayed over, and you want to make him the best breakfast ever.

Length/Warnings: 1,700 words | sexual contact

It's your ACTUAL BIRTHDAY @ronearoundblindly!! For banaNA, the delicious centerpiece of my 7 Ro Roll stories, we've got an established relationship morning interlude of teeth-rotting fluff. Enjoy!!

Excerpt:

Steve sets his fork carefully onto his plate, lifting up his napkin to wipe his mouth. The look in his eyes is warm. “You’re hoping I stay over more often?”

Two months ago you’d have worried that was some kind of relationship test.

One month ago you would have been scared to admit how much you think about sex with him.

Today you say, “Yes, I am.”

Loving Steve Rogers has made you more confident, and someday you’ll tell him that.

Banana

You really hadn’t expected your boyfriend to sleep over. It wasn’t the traditional date where you dress up in something beautiful and eat out at a ritzy restaurant, then come home and undress to experience something beautiful. It was the kind where he comes by with takeout and the two of you watch movies until you both fall asleep on the couch.

Still, you’d like to make the morning intentionally special for Steve.

You can’t ask him what he likes for breakfast while he's in the shower, but you're sure he has a metabolism-stimulating plate of protein every morning, looking like that. After assessing what's in the fridge, you make the decision to go all-out. He’d been used to mess hall communal meals back in the army, right? Plus, there's a kitchen in the Compound, so he probably makes his own breakfast. You lose a few minutes just picturing that.

Ten minutes later you’ve made him a plate with two kinds of eggs, sausage patties, buttered toast, and a little cup of sliced strawberries. The glass of orange juice ended up using the rest of the carton, but you can always buy more.

You wait with bated breath with your own breakfast, a generous bowl of oatmeal with your favorite fruits garnished with brown sugar. Steve doesn’t need to know those were the only eggs, nor that you made him the last of your sausage.

“Wow that smells great, are you setting up your crock pot or something?” he calls out from the hallway. You grin, excited for the surprise. Soon he’s coming into the kitchen, still drying his hair off with one of your towels. He smells amazing, and everything about the moment is exactly what you’ve always wanted.

Except… he looks uncomfortable.

“Please tell me you’re not allergic to eggs,” you fret.

“Oh, those are for me?”

“Well, yeah, look at the size of the plate! I guess if you want the oatmeal…”

He’s walking into the wide kitchen doorway, disappearing behind the wall for a moment (during which your mind races, thinking of all the things you could have done wrong. Does he dislike pepper? Allergic to citrus? What if he hates sausage? Why did you think this is a good idea!?).

“Are you okay?”

Steve’s got a banana in his hand, along with a fork, knife, and spoon. “Together, we’re a table setting,” he jokes, holding them up.

You almost facepalm-- you’d completely forgotten silverware. “Thanks.”

After the eggs and fruit are gone (accompanied by many enjoyment noises that punctuate your discussion of baseball), he points at the empty bowl of strawberries with a neatly-sliced piece of sausage on the end of his fork.

“You should know, I usually only eat a banana or some sliced fruit like this for breakfast, but this is delicious. Thank you.”

You conjure up the least embarrassed smile you can manage, but inside you wonder whether his honesty is warring with his sense of politeness.

“You’re asking yourself if I’d lie to make you happy, aren’t you?” he asks.

“Guilty,” you sigh. “I’m glad you said something before I made this mistake multiple times in the future.”

Steve sets his fork carefully onto his plate, lifting up his napkin to wipe his mouth. The look in his eyes is warm. “You’re hoping I stay over more often?”

Two months ago you’d have worried that was some kind of relationship test.

One month ago you would have been scared to admit how much you think about sex with him.

Today you say, “Yes, I am.”

Loving Steve Rogers has made you more confident, and someday you’ll tell him that.

He stands, coming over to take your hand and draw you solicitously up to your feet for a sweet, brief kiss. Steve's expression turns more serious, and he looks you right in your eyes.

“I’m hungry.”

You cannot be reading him right. It’s wishful thinking.

“There’s still that bana--”

Steve interrupts you with another kiss. It’s full of passion--a rough hand at your hip, thumb caressing your cheek, teeth scraping out of desperate sloppiness. The man is wrecking your mental health, but you’re right there with him, slowly filling up with heated liquor at every swipe of his tongue. He lifts his head and smiles gently, his lips twitching for a few seconds before he leans his head back and laughs.

Two months ago you would have thought he was laughing at you.

One month ago you’d have nervously played along in confusion.

Now you shove at his shoulder in mock frustration. “Out with it!”

“I can’t pull off that line, I’m sorry! I did my best,” he confesses sheepishly. “I woke up in the middle of the night on the couch with you asleep on my chest and texted Clint about what to do.”

“Oh, God,” you say, trying valiantly to hold back a giggle. “Why Clint?”

He backs up into the kitchen with his hands held up defensively. “I thought I could trust him! I figured Natasha would give me… questionable advice,” Steve says, “--and neither of us wanted me to ask Tony.”

“Oh, God,” you say again, this time in actual dismay.

“Exactly.” He pulls out one of your leftover containers and its matching lid, and holds them up.

He looks so good in his tight pants and form-fitting t-shirt that you gather up all of your Steve-loves-me courage.

“I thought you were hungry?” you say impudently, walking over and taking them out of his hands to set on the counter. Sliding your arms up around his neck, you kiss him with as much fervor as the kiss just minutes ago, letting your hands roam into his hair, down over his arm muscles, and finally to your goal, his waistband. Because you want his full permission before you do anything further, you mouth your way from his lips to his jaw, so he can say something if he needs to. If his enthusiastic participation in the kiss so far is any indication, though, there’s hope he’s up for it.

You circle the button of his pants with your thumb, slipping your fingers past his waistband. He hasn’t put on a belt yet, and there’s something intimate about it that’s beyond anything sexual, like he trusts himself to be not fully put-together around you. Falling asleep on the couch with you is one of those kind of things, too.

Steve whispers your name in a hoarse voice that’s rich with desire.

“Yes?” you question, hoping you’re not pushing too much.

“Yes.” 

Arching up to give him a kiss, you release the button and push the zipper down slowly, as much a caress against his groin as anything else. Steve throws a hand out to the side, and you feel a surge of excitement to think he’s so enthusiastic already.

“Here,” he says, throwing the towel that usually hangs from the oven on the floor at his feet, eyes full of amused apology. “Believe me, I’ll want to hold on.”

It’s so Steve Rogers to worry about your knees.

There’s nothing you can say that won’t sound terribly gauche or overeager, so you kiss his chest and pull his pants down to his feet, kneeling as you go. You look up at him, holding eye contact as you tug down his boxer briefs--but you don’t have the bravery to keep his gaze for your first taste.

Steve’s holding himself rigidly still, but you can feel his leg muscles tighten up even more when you take him into your mouth. It’s validating as hell. You pull back, sucking, loving the feel of him, warm and vibrant and wanting you. 

At that point you let yourself bliss out, eyes closed and fully attuned to him. When he makes a guttural little sound of need after you do something, you add it to the rotation, and when he starts to rock his hips forward, you quicken your pace. Everything is perfect; the crease of the towel digging into your knees, the taste of precum in your mouth, the searing ache between your legs, and most of all, how alive Steve is under your tongue, against your hands, in your throat.

“Ahhhhh,” he groans, and slams a hand onto the counter. You realize you’d hummed in happiness, and god, he’d loved that. You let out a little moan of pleasure of your own at the thought of just how wet you’ve got to be by now.

As a reward for you both, you hum again.

That sends him, starting a glorious chaos of holding on and taking it all in. When Steve reaches down and flails at your hair and shoulder, you let him pull you up and into his arms. Steve holds you tight to his chest, right each there against the counter with his pants around his ankles, each of you pulling as much oxygen and approval into your bodies as you can.

He pets your head and leans down. “Want to know what Clint said to tell you if the first line worked?”

Two months ago you were sure you weren't good enough for him and it could never last.

One month ago you’d have worried this levity was a sign you'd done a bad job.

Now, you glare up at him in utter adoration.

“If it’s something about being barefoot in the kitchen, Rogers, I’m going to go to the bedroom and finish by myself.”

“Never mind,” he says, moving sideways just long enough to get a hand on his pants to tug them up. He does the button but not the zipper, then picks you up, heading into the hallway. At the doorway to your bedroom, Steve fucking Rogers looks down at you with a loving expression and says, “Don’t worry. I’d never leave you behind.”

[samsno1]

Surprise

Sam Winchester x F!Reader

I'm a littleeeee late for his birthday one-shot but I did it! Happy Birthday Sammy, the biggest comfort character that I have and the reason for my obsession with a 15 season TV show

Summary: The morning of Sam's birthday didn't go according to planned - in the best way possible

Warnings: PURE FLUFF, naked-ness and hints of sexual intercourse but literally nothing happens, english is not my first language

WC: 1.7k

enjoy!

It was hilarious. The way Sam tried for so long to not bother you about his birthday. Brushing it off, claiming it was nothing, saying you never needed to do much for him because just your presence was enough to make him happy. It was cute but you never bought it, this year was the same thing.

You had woken up later than him that morning, noticed when you didn’t feel the warmth of his chest on your bare back and his hands holding you close like he did the night before. You wondered how he did it, the man kept you up all night and still was able to get up at six for his morning run. Either way, Sam usually went on runs early to clear his head and you knew his birthday was somewhat of a taboo for him – damn John Winchester. He wasn’t very open about it but, from what you knew about his father in the years you knew Sam and Dean, you could have an idea of why he didn’t take his birthday as an important date.

You got up, discarding the sheets, the cold hitting your naked body making goosebumps rise over your skin. The room was an absolute mess, your clothes and Sam’s scattered all around, half the sheet on the ground along with a pillow that you probably pushed off the bed to make up some space. You smiled to yourself feeling the warmth on your cheeks – it has been three years since you started dating Sam and five since you met him and he still managed to make you feel like it was your first time all over again.

You gathered some clean clothes of yours and decided to hop on the shower to really wake up and, since Sam never ate breakfast before a run, you wanted to start his special day with his favorite breakfast – made by you. Sam always appreciated anything you did for him, be it the simplest thing as breakfast or complex things such as, well, saving his life. Dean always teased about Sam being madly in love with you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. Little did he know it was practically the same for you too. The pining was terrible and you only noticed how embarrassing it truly was after you started dating. You assumed, though, it was always like that, what matters is that it worked out and it was one of the best decisions of your life to start a relationship with Sam Winchester.

You thought about all kinds of things you could do to surprise Sam later. He wasn’t much for parties and only drank casually – unlike his brother. He liked Celine Dion but you thought it would be too dismissive to buy a vinyl of hers for his birthday. To sum it up, Sam was a hard guy to buy gifts for because everything he told you when you asked what he liked to get was I don’t need much sweetheart, just give me anything and I’ll be more than happy. Ugh, such a cliché thing to say to your girlfriend.

While you were cooking the eggs you heard the loud noise of the metal door to the bunker closing and immediately smiled to yourself knowing your birthday boy had arrived. He ran down the stairs and you were able to hear his tired breaths from afar. You always wondered why he liked running so much, catching yourself thinking of all the different reasons why he might feel the need to run every morning. Maybe it was just great to workout, maybe he just needed some time alone, maybe he just likes the fresh air from time to time, either way, you weren’t by any means going to complain about waking up on an empty bed every now and again – it was one of the things he enjoyed, you weren’t going to ruin it for him.

You felt strong – and slightly sweaty – arms wrap around your waist from behind and soft lips kissing the side of your neck, a light hum coming out of his mouth as he smelled your perfume. “Good morning, Sweetheart” He whispered against your skin.

“Good morning baby, I’m making breakfast for you birthday boy” You said.

You felt him smile over your neck, and one of his hands snaked up and grasped your chin, turning your face to him. He quickly looked at your eyes, then your lips, leaning in to leave a long peck over them. You sighed dreamily through your nose, turning your body around completely to him, making him adjust his other hand on your waist. When he pulled away Sam was looking at you with the most loving eyes you had ever witnessed – well, he always looked at you like that.

“You didn’t have to”

“I wanted to, don’t start” You countered. You would’ve ran a hand through his hair, hugged him tight and showered him in kisses but, first, he needed an actual shower – his front strands were shining with sweat. “Now” You laid a hand over his chest “go take a shower so that I can greet you properly and for you to eat”

He lowered both his hands to your waist again and you felt his thumbs under your shirt, caressing your bare skin. He seemed to not have registered a word you said as he just stared dreamily at your face.

“Thank you” He said suddenly. You felt a seriousness in his tone, something more than just thanking you for making him food. The words hung heavy on his tongue and in your ears, your brain trying to process what he really meant by them. You knew that in ‘Winchester’ – or better, the way Sam and Dean spoke about feelings – ‘thank you’ could mean a thousand different things and emotions and this time it definitely wasn’t just for the eggs.

Sam noticed the confusion on your face, your beautiful eyes trying to read through his and figure it out. You were a smart woman, Sam knew that. He also knew you would not just take that thank you as something simple, specially with the way he said it. Truth was, Sam wanted to say so much more, to drown you in his words, to fill your body with emotions but he was just too scared. Every time he felt the need to tell you more, the constriction in his throat was stronger, the nervousness in his body was overwhelming and he would just not say exactly what he wanted to say. The velvet box hung heavy in the pocket of his shorts.

“For what?” You asked, almost in a whisper, eyebrows furrowed.

“For being you” He said and watched as a beautiful smile opened in your face. It’s now or never Sam, do it, fucking do it.

He let go of your waist, still smiling at you. Sam had told you before that nothing was a better gift for him than having you in his life. He meant that. He meant every single word. So, yeah, Sam Winchester faked going for a run this morning. Sam Winchester actually went to pick up a ring he had ordered a week ago. Sam Winchester wasn’t actually sweaty, he had thrown water on his front strands to fake it because you were so smart to the point you’d notice that he didn’t go for a run if his hair was dry.

Sam Winchester was on his knees in front of you, a beautiful golden ring inside a velvet box in his hand.

You were frozen as tears started to well up, your eyes glossy. “Sam..”

“You’re one of the many reasons I’m still here” He began “You make every breath I take worth it, you turned my world upside down the moment I saw you, you make me aspire to be better every single day. I look at you and I see life, a future and the forever love of my life” He took a breath, the constriction in his throat wasn’t beating him now, it wasn’t going to stop him. “I can’t see myself without you anymore so, please, if you’d give me the pleasure…____ ____, will you marry me?”

Your heart was beating so fast and so loud you could feel it in your ears, tears were falling down your cheeks as Sam held your shaky hand in his. You’ve never felt happier, you’ve never wanted to scream this loud or cry this much. He was going to be the death of you.

“Yes!” You nodded aggressively, smiling wide “Yes, yes, God, a thousand times yes!”  You said loudly and Sam stood up with the intention of putting the ring around your finger but you just couldn’t hold back your happiness. 

As soon as he was up, you threw yourself at him, your arms around his neck and he almost lost his balance, swaying on his feet. You sobbed on his shoulder as he hugged you tight to him. You pulled back to look in his eyes and saw nothing but love, nothing but happiness and gave him a long kiss.

You pulled away and finally let him put the ring around your finger as you stared emotionally at it, the gold shining beautifully against your skin. When he looked at your face again he smiled, his dimples showing and his cheeks red.

“I was supposed to surprise you today” You said with feigned anger as you stared into his eyes. Sam shook his head and chuckled.

“I told you, there’s no gift I’d rather have than you”

“You’re so corny”

“You love it”

“Yeah, I love it…I love you”

“I love you” And he kissed you again, his hands holding your cheeks as if you were made of glass. You held his wrists to keep him there…Until the smell of something burning hit your nose and you pulled back with wide eyes.

“Oh Jesus Christ, the food!” You said desperately, turning around to turn the stove off. Sam just laughed at you, his fianceé, trying to swat the smoke away with your hand as you poured water over the brunt eggs. Yeah, best gift ever.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading XoXo

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Sara Montiel (Vera Cruz, Serenade, Run of the Arrow)— She began her career in the 1940s and became the most internationally popular and highest paid star of Spanish cinema in the 1960s. She appeared in nearly fifty films and recorded around 500 songs in five different languages. She always tells how when she met Marlon Brando, she cooked fried eggs for him and he said they were the best eggs he had ever tasted. She confronted Franco himself first by rejecting his invitation to sing at his Christmas party, and then when she went to the barracks to ask that the police let the homosexuals that they had detained be let out. She defended them tooth and nail, and that's why they returned all the love by turning her into the icon of the gay community in Spain.

Marilyn Monroe (How to Marry a Millionaire, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Some Like It Hot)— Ngl I thought you all were lying about sexual attraction until I saw Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Sara Montiel:

Marilyn Monroe:

She's amazing!!! A classic bombshell, as well as a strong women who overcame so many obstacles. She also advocated for others, like Ella Fitzgerald.

That fucking saxophone that cuts in whenever she appears on screen in Some Like it Hot

I mean, it's Marilyn Monroe. She's adorable. She's gorgeous. She funny. She's the total package

She's the original American sex symbol, an iconic beautiful woman with eyes you could get lost in, legs for days, gorgeous hair, and a cute tummy. Her voice! Just listen to her voice!!!!!

She is considered one of THE sex symbols of the 1960s and one of the greatest actresses of all time! She HAS to be on this list!

no vintage movie woman is more iconically hot

People are most familiar with pictures of her in the white dress or the Happy Birthday Mr President one, but imo she is at her most beautiful and looks most comfortable when she is photographed by women like Eve Arnold

It’s Marilyn Monroe. If Aphrodite was an actual person, she’d be Marilyn. Do I really need to say more?

What can I say that hasn't been said? Marilyn's legacy is so much bigger than she was in life. She's a defining symbol of 50s and 60s Hollywood sex and it's obvious why. She was absolutely stunning and the camera loved her.

[cnnmairoll]

Birthday Cake

Pairing: Kenma x reader Genre: Fluff a/n: my dumbass only took the pic in one ratio which is 1:1 when i shouldve done it in different ratios for a cute banner... oh well. here's the birthday post i made for kenma. and this one is for me even though it's a day later

You glanced at your phone for the fifth time in the past minute, checking the time. Kenma had asked you to come over to his apartment after your afternoon class was over, and now you were standing outside his door, a nervous excitement bubbling in your chest. It was your birthday, and while you didn't expect anything extravagant, the fact that Kenma had planned something made your heart flutter.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. A few seconds later, you heard some shuffling from inside before the door creaked open, revealing Kenma in a bit of a mess. He wore an apron that was slightly too big for him, with flour dusted all over his front and a bit of egg batter smeared on his cheek. His usually neat hair was slightly tousled, giving him a frazzled look.

"Ken, what happened?" you asked, unable to suppress a giggle at his state.

Kenma scratched the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. "I… um, I was baking you a cake," he admitted, glancing over his shoulder. "well, it's still in the oven."

You stepped inside, the sweet aroma of baking filling the air. "It smells great," you said encouragingly. "I can't wait to see it."

Kenma smiled softly at your enthusiasm, but then his eyes widened in realization. "The cake!" he exclaimed, rushing to the kitchen. You followed him, watching as he hurriedly opened the oven and pulled out the cake, which was slightly burnt on the edges.

You walk over to the cake, inspecting it closely. "It looks great, really. I bet it tastes just as good."

Kenma frowns. "It's burnt."

You laugh, a light, joyful sound that seems to ease his worry. "It's the thought that counts. Besides, I love it."

He relaxes a bit, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I was going to decorate it too, but… well, you can see how that went."

"Let's do it together," you suggest, grabbing a tube of frosting. "It’ll be fun."

Kenma hesitates, then nods, his smile growing wider. "Okay. But no promises it'll look good."

You both get to work, laughing and chatting as you decorate the cake. Kenma's usually serious expression is softened by the warmth in his eyes, and you can’t help but feel incredibly lucky to have him by your side.

"How did you even get flour on your face?" you tease, wiping a smudge off his cheek.

"I have no idea," he admits, chuckling. "I'm a disaster in the kitchen."

"You're my disaster," you reply, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Kenma’s eyes sparkle with affection. "Happy birthday," he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Thank you, Ken," you say, your heart overflowing with love. "This is the best birthday ever."

As you finish decorating the cake, you both step back to admire your work. It's far from perfect, but it’s a labor of love, and that makes it perfect in its own way.

"Ready to taste it?" Kenma asks, handing you a knife.

You cut a small slice, offering him the first bite. He takes it, and you watch anxiously for his reaction. He chews thoughtfully, then nods. "Not bad. Could use less burnt edges, though."

You laugh, taking a bite yourself. "I think it's perfect."

Kenma wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "Happy birthday," he repeats, kissing your temple.

oh erm idk how to end it

[astarioffsimpmain]

Share With Me

Pairing: Gale x F!OC (Lyra)

Word Count: 1.6k

Author's Note: I took @senualothbrok 's advice and wrote some Gale on my birthday, and this fic was born! So, this is my birthday fic (technically for yesterday), but also, kind of an announcement fic!

Lyra is a new OC for me, and she is part of a much bigger project I have been working on in semi-secret for a little while now. I am writing a reverse-isekai chapter fic with Gale x Lyra! My story takes a lot of inspiration from my friend Senua's piece, "The Difference," but I'm getting to tell my own story, which I have never done so intimately in published work before. I'm excited and scared and I hope you all will take this journey with me. ❤️ This piece is in the same universe as that project, but is a separate one-shot. Now, on to the fic!

You stretched, allowing blood flow to your legs as you turned over. Quietly, you gazed out the open window next to your bed, closing your eyes when you felt the cool breeze blow in against your face. “It's not so bad,” you muttered under your breath as you watched the multicolored leaves flutter and spin in their journey from the trees to the ground. 

It wasn't as though you were much of a social butterfly to begin with. But, not being physically capable of even sitting in your living room on your birthday because of the pain left a sour taste in your mouth. Even so, you did your best to brush all of that aside and enjoy the autumn air, and before long, you were drifting back into a comfortable slumber. 

Your peace did not last long, however. A knock on your door startled you, as Leda wasn't home, until you remembered — Gale. Becoming used to the presence of this man, who, until a month prior was a mere story of fantasy to you, now living in your home with you, seemed impossible still. 

“Gale?” You called out, the scratch of your voice betraying how close to sleep you had been. 

“Guilty,” His sheepish voice answered from the other side of the door, and you smiled.

“Come in.” 

The doorknob turned, and Gale's handsome face peeked through the crack. “Good morning,” he said gently, and your heart leapt in your chest. ‘If the sun ever burned out, that smile could save us all,’ you thought wistfully as he pushed the door all the way open and came inside. You propped up on your elbow and smiled at him, nearly missing the tray he pushed into the room with him — nearly. 

“Gale,” you gasped, your eyes tearing away from him at last in order to take in the spread before you. “What is all of this?” 

“Uhm…well, heh.” His hand traveled to the back of his neck and he chuckled. “I couldn't possibly allow you to celebrate your birthday in bed, in pain; alone, without a single breath of fanfare. You deserve a considerable amount more than that. So!” He clapped his hands together suddenly. “We have eggs, toast with apple butter spread, sausage, some fruits, and a pumpkin flavored coffee - iced, of course. I also have a menu for lunch and dinner, if you'd like.”

Your heart swelled in your chest and the sight of Gale before you blurred as tears clouded your vision. He continued. 

“I brought your… what did you call it? Computer? In here with me, so that we might watch one of those plays you enjoy.” He paused, seemingly returning to himself, and withdrew ever so slightly. “Of course, none of this is required by any means! All merely suggestions. If you'd rather be left in peace and quiet, I will leave this here and be-”

“Gale,” you interjected, but it's as though he didn't hear you at all. 

“I would be happy to leave this here or take it away-”

“Gale-”

“The last thing I would wish is for you to feel pressured in any way-”

“Gale!” 

He fell silent immediately, and you couldn't help but feel guilty. 

"Come here,” you choked out and reached for him. There was no hesitation. His hands encompassed yours and you nearly sighed aloud in relief. The pain he eased was not in your body, but within your soul. You had been dancing around these feelings you held for a man from worlds away, desperate to keep yourself safe from rejection's cold sting, but when he was here; when he was by your side, your hands safe in his, your fears fell silent. They didn't matter. For even if he rejected you today and disappeared tomorrow, you will have known him; you will have touched him, and you will have loved him with every aching beat of your battered heart. 

You smiled at him, your eyes misted with tears, and took in the worry etched into his beautiful features. ‘Did I do too much? Does she not like it? Have I upset her?’ In that moment, he was as easy to read as a book cover and you squeezed his hand in assurance. 

"Thank you, Gale," you murmured, and a smile crept across his pink lips, but his eyes were still uncertain. You couldn't bear to let him think that he had done anything but send your heart soaring in your chest, so you took a deep breath and made a brave decision. 

Leaning up, you took one of your hands out of his and brushed your fingertips gently upwards through the coarse hairs of his beard, and his lips parted in surprise as your palm came to rest on his cheek. Simultaneously, you pulled yourself up and Gale down, your lips grazing his beard before finding the hollow of his cheek and pressing a tender kiss there. 

"This means so much to me. You mean so much to me. I haven't known how to tell you,  but…" you whispered in his ear and felt him shudder. You pulled away to ask him what was wrong, but your words were swallowed before their inception by his lips on yours, hot and insistent as his fingers came up to cradle the back of your head, and his digits curled into the hair at the base of your neck to keep you locked in place. 

The shocked yelp leaving you melted into a throaty moan as his taste consumed you. You were aflame. His tongue sought entrance into your mouth and you whimpered, allowing him in with no hesitation. 

He pulled away suddenly, his chest heaving as he rested his forehead against your own. “Is this-?”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Gale, fuck- yes.” And your breath was stolen once more. 

"Gods, Lyra," he groaned against your lips. "You cannot possibly fathom how delectable you taste."

“I- mmf!” Your words were once again lost on your tongue as his delved deeper, exploring you with as much fervor as he did his favorite tomes. He stroked the length of his tongue against yours and a soft, breathy sound emanated from the back of his throat. You came apart in his arms, pulling him closer than you thought possible in this awkward position, and grasped onto his shoulders like the lifeline they were. 

A month of hesitation, fear, and uncertainty were swept away in the crashing tide of Gale’s teeth colliding with yours as he used the grip he had on your hair to gently, but firmly, tilt your head to the side, giving him unparalleled access to your depths. You felt fingertips glide up the curve of your neck and you shuddered violently, a whimper ripping from your throat and falling onto his tongue like a prayer. The stiff hairs of his beard scratched the sensitive skin around your mouth as you moved in tandem with him, your mind barely remaining tethered to your body. 

Your hands wandered, exploring the dips and planes of Gale’s body as he leaned further over you, conscious of your pain even in the haze of passion. You learned him by touch alone, pressing your fingertips into the muscles and grasping at soft rolls and curves. He felt so foreign and yet so familiar; he felt like coming home. 

When you broke apart, it felt like eons had passed. Blue eyes connected with brown ones and you paused there, drinking in the feeling of closeness you had craved for so long. He was searching you; you felt it. “Stay with me,” you whispered, and watched his Adam's apple bounce with the force of his gulp. 

“Is that what you want?” He whispered in response. 

“Don't you?”

“By all the gods, I want it more than anything. But that's not what I'm asking.” 

You canvassed his beautiful face, reveling in how close each of your favorite features were to you now. You could reach up and trace each crease, line, and scar; run your fingernail along each pore, pocket, and imperfection that made Gale who he was. “I want it too. I want you here with me. Please.” 

He closed his eyes and a smile pulled up at the creases of his mouth, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh falling from his lips as his warm hands fell to each of your cheeks. “Then you'll need to scoot over. I'm quite a bit larger than the space between us now.” 

“Oh Gale, I'm certain you are,” you tittered and he blushed furiously, a hand over his eyes. 

“Gods, you will be the end of me.” 

“I'm not so sure, you might get me first.” 

His hand fell and he looked at you pointedly. “If you continue to tease me, then perhaps I shall.” 

Warmth flooded your entire body and you moved back immediately, allowing him room in the bed beside you. His laugh pulled your mind from the heat pooling in your belly and you smiled up at him as he removed his shoes and laid down on his back beside you. His arm opened to you and you were there in seconds, curling under it and pressing close to his side. 

“Do you wish to eat? Your breakfast has, more than likely, gotten rather tepid by now.” 

“Of course! We can't waste all of your hard work!”

“We?” He questioned you, his eyebrow raising. 

“Mmm,” you nodded, reaching across him to grab a strawberry and press it gently to his lips. “I can't eat all of this by myself.” 

Gale grinned around the strawberry and opened his mouth to you, taking a slow bite of the juicy fruit, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt his hand come to rest on your lower back and pull you closer to him. 

“Come,” he murmured after swallowing, and took the strawberry from you, holding it to your lips now. “Let's share.” 

~

fin

Tagging, Darlings: @micropoe10 @knightofmight01 @just-a-refrigerator @fanon-and-canon @senualothbrok @charlenestrawart

[hi-veevee]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LITTLE TALLULAH <3

best egg in the entire server, i would burn down the federation myself if she ever dies <3