#something that’s been bothering me since my birthday a few days ago

[galariangengar]

💭

[zaephix]

macaron of my eye / / zayne . . .

being the birthday boy came with its perks, like gifts and cake, blessings, and even being able to get away with stealing a few birthday sweets and kisses.

warnings: f!reader, canon divergence (story is diff from the bday story), jealous!zayne, fluff, suggestive

w/c: 1.2k

author's note: happy birthday to the one fictional man who set my standards higher than heaven <3

"nuh-uh, nope!"

zayne didn't even get the chance to land the slightest touch on one of the many macarons you ended up baking before you promptly slapped his hand away.

"i know it's nearly your birthday but this doesn't mean you can just have your way when you see fit, doctor."

he slowly retracts his wandering hand and you resist the urge to giggle at the sight of his dejected face. these past few days you'd been busy planning for zayne's special day. decorations, sweets, gifts, cake, more sweets... it took some work but you had just about everything checked out and ready to go.

...except for the surprisingly clingy man before you.

he doesn't know why, but he's been feeling irked ever since you visited the hospital a few days ago. it was common to see you heading over to zayne's office after your shift was over, but he'd never actually see you stop and talk to his coworkers. it bothered him, clearly.

you and greyson would talk in hushed whispers oftentimes these days, sneaking glances over in his direction everytime he'd pass by. he brushed it off but it would never leave the back of his mind.

not to mention the fact that you'd barely respond to his calls and texts. he'd taken the next few days leading up to his birthday off, and you seemed excited, so why the change of energy?

he found his answer 20 minutes ago.

"you know, i'd maybe let you eat some if you didn't just come into my apartment unannounced and..." you glance over him, "so gloomy..."

zayne sighs, leaning on the countertop of your kitchen while watching you work ever so diligently.

he supposed you had a point.

after his 4th missed call or so he decided to see you himself, knocking on your door before picking up the key under your plant vase in front of your door and seeing himself in... and as you can tell, without your permission.

"i'm... sorry," he starts slowly. "but don't you think you're at fault for ignoring me?"

you turn back around after putting in the final batch of macarons, smiling. "awh. poor little doctor zayne. so helpless and in need of attention."

he turns his head to the side a little and shakes his head lightly, smiling all the while. "yes..."

"poor little me," a sudden mischiecious glint appears in his eyes, "without my hunter to keep me company. she keeps sneaking off and planning surprises behind my back."

"and yet... someone ruined it!"

"i suppose were both feeling quite woeful today."

"hmph," you turn around with your hands crossed. "don't even ask for a bite. i know you'll be begging sooner or later!"

he stands up and comes closer to your turned form, "not even a nibble?"

"not even!"

"then... i'll just have to improvise, no?"

"what are you talking abou-?"

unbeknownest to you, zayne's favorite sweet was not just macarons.

no, they were something else entirely.

he hums as he rests his arms atop your waist, leaning down exceptionally slowly. your neck heats up, even moreso than when you were stuck baking in the kitchen for hours on end.

his breath fans against your ear, soft chuckles echoing from his chest onto the plain of your back. "this."

he moves the hair cascading down your back to your side, holding it in place as he softly latches his lips onto your exposed skin. your own breath hitches in your chest as you gasp at the contact.

his lips felt cold, but not in a bad way. cold, like the first breeze of autumn after the end of summer. he moves his way up the side of your neck with painfully slow strides. he inhales deeply, taking in the sweet scent of the various flavours of cake attached to you.

and as you exhale steadily, you wonder what encouraged him to reveal this side of himself.

"zayne..."

soft carresses of his lips lingered on your skin—and you found yourself hoping your own lips to be their next victim. never once did his grip on you falter or grow stronger, yet they kept you firmly in place, anticipating his every move.

soon enough he'd completed his trail across your jaw, and you turn your neck to face him. he opens his eyes to find yours and detaches himself, dark and hazy. god, you felt pathetic...

"did you get my answer yet?"

you don't reply, looking from his eyes to his lips again once more, and leaned in.

ding!

you jolted away from him and cursed yourself for putting the macarons in the oven on high so that they'd get done faster. with how everything was going along just about now, you wouldn't even give a damn if they burned or not if you could just continue for a moment more.

"ah... they're ready."

you grab your mittens and open the oven door, letting it cool down while all the steam came out and then finally grabbing it. you set them down on your counter with a proud smile.

"look, this might just be my best batch yet!"

"you really are something..."

zayne gives you a wistful smile and looks over your shoulder, nodding in approval. "you truly outdid yourself this time. they look amazing."

"and?"

"...they also smell nice."

you roll your eyes, "no silly, what's my reward?"

he pretends to think, "hm, i don't know. what should your reward be?"

a noise goes off, your alarm set for 12 am to give zayne a birthday call ringing from your phone. you glance at it and then look back at him,

"...i might just have an idea."

and he reads your mind, dipping in to kiss you without a second thought. afterall, what better way to start his birthday than a kiss?

you sway in his arms, a hand rested atop his cheek and the other on the side of his neck. he smiles into the kiss and pulls you closer, gently moving your bodies in synchronization.

you were sure you could hear his phone vibrating, no doubt on the fact that it was probably one of his colleuges calling to wish him a happy birthday. but you both knew that could wait.

he kisses you slowly and passionately, arms enveloping around you with ease. you're almost left out of breath before you pull away for a split second, until he pulls you back in again. it feels almost desperate, with how he's leaving little to no room for movement and just focusing on your presence. on your lips.

soon enough, you pull away, opting to lean your forehead against his.

"so, birthday boy, did you like your first gift?"

"i thought this was supposed to be someone's reward?"

you giggled, "i changed my mind. this was more important."

he smiles for what felt like the umpteenth time today, sighing peacefully. "does this mean i finally get to try your delicious sweets?"

"what do you mean finally? i tasted the cream inside your mouth! you stole one while i was putting the rest in the oven!"

"hm?"

"don't play dumb, i know exactly how it-!"

and he silences your fusses with one last kiss, and you couldn't help but give in to it.

[eternalxvenus]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 3 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain.

wc: 1.4k

notes: part three out in less than 24hrs?!? who would've thought

previous chapters: part 1 | part 2

Topper: hey we need to talk, it's about Rafe.

Your heartbeat started to pick up, but you weren't sure why. Topper didn't say it was anything bad, but you knew realistically he wouldn't be texting you unless it was.

You: hey Top, what's going on?

Topper: are you busy? can I swing by?

You: i'm on the mainland right now, can you tell me over text? i'm worried

Topper: yeah... so I don't know if you know but Rafe went to Kelce's party a couple days ago.

You: yeah I know

The sinking feeling in your chest lifts a little. You figured Topper was going to tell you Rafe had been doing coke since he knew Rafe was supposed to quit.

Topper: while he was there he started doing lines off the table. then a little later he started making out with Sofia. i'm not sure how far it went

You stared at the message for what felt like forever. Then a video pops up in the chat, so you click play.

There are some random people doing lines, but then in the back corner, you can see Rafe and his ex-girlfriend Sofia practically trying to eat each other's faces. You couldn't seem to find the energy to be sad about it. You felt almost indifferent but shocked at the same time.

You: thanks for letting me know Top

Topper: of course and just know you don't deserve that.

You click out of your messages and before you can think twice, your phone is ringing, waiting for your call to be picked up.

"Hello?" Rafe's voice came in through the speakers. He sounded tired but not like he had been asleep.

"Rafe. I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth." 

"Okay... what is it?"

There was silence as you took a deep breath. Your voice was smooth and calm as you asked, "Did you cheat on me?"

You heard shuffling on the other end of the line. "What?"

"Did you cheat on me, Rafe?"

"No, I didn't cheat on you. What is going on?" He sounded baffled by your question.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Rafe! I saw the video," You tried to keep your voice low since your parents were probably asleep.

"Baby what are you talking about I'm not lying! I didn't cheat on you. You know what, I'm coming to the mainland. I'll be over there soon." 

He ended the call before you could tell him not to bother. The last thing you wanted to see was his stupid face, knowing his lips were all over Sofia's, and God knows what else they did. 

At the beginning of your relationship you were really insecure because of his history with Sofia but Rafe always assured you that he wasn’t interested in her anymore. You laid in bed staring at the ceiling while the video played over and over in your head. All you could wonder was what made your relationship with Rafe go left so quickly. You felt like crying and punching Rafe all at once. He made you feel so much at one time it could be so overwhelming.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Your phone chimed a while later with a text from Rafe saying 'I'm here. Please let me in so we can talk.’

With a sigh you begrudgingly made your way downstairs and to the front door. When you opened it Rafe was standing there with a tired yet worried look on his face.

"Can I please-"

You put a finger up to your lips. "Shh. You'll wake up my parents." You let him inside and signaled him to follow you into your room. Before you can close the door fully, Rafe starts asking questions. "Why do you think I cheated on you? What video are you talking about?"

"Rafe, I saw a video of you sucking face with Sofia at Kelce's party. Did you fuck her too? Is that why you didn't text me all day?"

Rafe was looking at you like you'd grown two heads. "I am so fucking lost right now. I don't even think I saw Sofia at the party!"

You pull up the video and show it to Rafe. He watches it a few times before sitting on your bed with a sigh, dragging his hands over his face. You watch him with your arms crossed, waiting to see what he'll say. Rafe then pulls his phone out of his pocket, pulling something up.

"Look, this is a picture taken the day of the party." He shows you a random photo that was taken of him and Kelce, also displaying the date on it.

"So what?"

Rafe grabs your phone going back to the video and zooming in on the spot where he is seen kissing Sofia. "My outfit isn't the same in the video. It's an old video from when we were together."

Looking at both the phones you realize that he's right. "Oh... well why would Topper send me this if it's old?" You question out loud

"Wait a minute, Topper sent you this?"

"Yeah he texted me earlier saying we needed to talk but I told him I was on the mainland." You show Rafe the texts from Topper and he's seething.

"I could kill that son of bitch!" He shouted, and you had to cover his mouth, reminding him your parents were asleep. You sat on the bed looking at him, now you were the one who was confused so you decided to flat-out ask him what was going on.

"When you weren't talking to me I had told Kelce and Topper what was going on and he was the one who convinced me you didn't wanna be with me anymore. You were ignoring my calls and everything so he said I should just forget about you and not make things worse." Suddenly Rafe was on his knees with his hands on your hips.

"Baby listen, I know that I can be a major fuck up sometimes and that I don't have the best way of dealing with stress and everything but I would never cheat on you. I'm sorry about y'know, the coke and your birthday and everything else that I've ever done wrong, but I hope you realize that I love you so fucking much. You mean the world to me, and I don't wanna lose you." You stared at him with wide eyes as tears started to fall down his cheeks and brought up your hand to gently wipe them away. "So if you still want space, I'll give it to you. But I know I'm ready to change and make everything up to you."

You leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips. You definitely weren't expecting him to pour everything out like that. "I love you too, and I don't want you to think I'm ever judging you or being a hardass. I just worry about you. If something ever happened to you..." you sighed, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"I promise not to make you worry." Rafe stood up and kissed you hard while cradling your face. He tried to leave to give you space, but you insisted he'd stay and said you'd head back to the OBX tomorrow. Rafe wanted to talk to Topper in person, which you didn't see going well, but you'd worry about it tomorrow.

You gave him plenty of blankets and pillows since he didn't want to take up so much space in your twin bed and chose to sleep on the floor. Once you'd gotten under your blankets, sleep whisked you away. 

Rafe, on the other hand, could barely get his mind to calm down. He was fucking enraged with Topper for trying to pull some bullshit like that. Rafe should've known he was a snake. He noticed the way Topper's eyes would linger on you or how his hugs went on for a little too long. But Rafe didn't think Topper was stupid enough to try and break you two up.

Now that he had finally cleared everything up with you, he wasn't worried. Rafe was going to take care of Topper as soon as he got back to OBX. He'll make sure to get the point across that nobody fucks with his girl and his relationship.

part 4

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taglist: @readingsmuts @1aarii1 @bingbongbum @stargirlsturniololover @babygirl229 @poisonedsultana @rafescamshoe @devils-blackrose @spiderflunk @quicksilversg1rl

[adollrable]

Under the same moon.

✧ summary: where it's your birthday and your boyfriend is on a mission far from home.

✧ cw: female reader x leon kennedy (re4r), fluff, just him being a cutie pie and the boyfiest boyfie ever (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿

✧ wc: 1387

a/n: I'M SCARED, this is my first time writing something COMPLETELY in english so... if something looks kinda silly forgive me 😞 english is not my first language but feel free to give me feedback!

my birthday was two days ago and i kinda want it to write something so, if someone is reading this on their birthday, happy birthday!!! 🤲🏻

11:45 PM. You were pacing around your apartment. Brushing your teeth, doing your skin care routine, pulling out the softest cotton sheets you have at your disposal.

You looked at the calendar that sat on the nightstand next to your bed, your eyes drifting towards the next day's date. Your birthday.

You weren't that excited, the printed number that indicated your day of birth wasn't marked with a red marker that circled it. The date Leon would return was.

Originally, your boyfriend's absence wouldn't interfere with your birthday. He would be with you on your special day. But you thought back to the call you had with him a few days ago, with him trying to get a signal to tell you that he couldn't make it on time and that he was really sorry.

You understand. It doesn't bother you, but you wish he was by your side now.

His job was complicated, and he explained that he couldn't tell you much from it. As far as you know, he's in Spain, rescuing someone. You don't know who, but it must be someone important.

11:55 PM. Five minutes to midnight. Five minutes until another return to the sun happens for you.

You laid down on your bed, covered by the sheets that hugged your body. You took the pillow that Leon usually uses and wrapped both arms around it, seeking comfort to avoid missing him so much.

Tomorrow would be just another day. Sure, your friends will congratulate you, you will receive calls from your family at extremely early hours of the morning, and you will repeat "thank you, I appreciate it" like a broken recorder for each call and message.

Gifts don't matter, much less a cake, or a party. The only thing you want is for the love of your life to return soon and you can be together.

Rolling between thoughts, you were able to fall asleep.

12:00 PM. Finally your birthday.

Your cellphone vibrated with every message that one of your friends or your family sent you congratulations. The light from the device breaks into your not-so-deep sleep, since not even ten minutes had passed since you closed your eyes.

Sheet off you, you stopped hugging the pillow and with a soft grunt reached for your phone, checking notifications with squinted eyes.

You lowered the brightness of your cell phone because of that annoying burning in your eyes and now with more comfort, you wandered around the notifications you had, until one caught your attention completely.

Leon ♡: "Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much."

A smile began to form on your face, and without hesitation you unlocked your cell phone to answer him.

Thanks, Lee :( I miss you and I love you

You weren't expecting a response, after all, he must be busy, right? In Spain it must have been your birthday hours ago, but he still bothered to wait for it to come where you are.

Leon ♡: I miss you too, how have you been?

You didn't think he would have time to respond, but you also didn't want to spend three days without hearing from him, so you took advantage of the opportunity.

I've been fine... I haven't done much, just work and back home :( how about you?

Leon ♡: Tired, but all good. Missing you most of all the time. Tell me, have you done anything interesting?

Does missing you count? :[

Leon ♡: Yeah, it counts, sweet thing. I want to tell you something, okay? But let me call you first.

The fact that he was going to call you made you feel good, he may not be with you on your birthday and he is supposed to arrive days later, but one call is enough to lift your spirits.

You were going to answer but your screen lit up with your boyfriend's contact name and the buttons to answer or hang up the call. You pressed the green button and put it on speaker, placing your phone on your chest with a smile. "Hi..."

"Hello, birthday girl." His voice... You could spend hours listening to him speak, even if he was talking about the most boring topic in the world, you would pay attention from start to finish. "How's my baby doing?"

You giggled, there really wasn't much to say, your birthday had started less than an hour ago, "No crazy, exciting party... My friends have congratulated me, as has my family. My parents must be asleep at this time, so I guess when they wake up they'll call me."

"Yeah, they must be resting at this time, huh. You should, too. It's only because of your birthday that you stay up so late." He answered and you could hear his smirk over the phone, making you blush slightly.

"Of course not... I can sleep late whenever I want." And even if you wanted to, you know it's not possible. Once you get home from work and settle into your boyfriend's arms to sleep, you fall deeply into the arms of Morpheus. It's hard not to sleep well when you have a giant boyfriend pillow. "I can't sleep without you here."

"I know, baby, I know... I can't sleep without my sweet girl hugging me like a damn teddy bear." He chuckled and you did it too. Both of you fell into a small silence, it wasn't awkward, it was comforting. "Hey, baby?" He began, as you settled into the sheets.

"Mhm?" You asked, as you looked at the moon through your bedroom window. Her brilliance seeped in and was strong and radiant.

Watching the moon always gave you a certain comfort, knowing that no matter where Leon is, both of you will always be under the same moon and firmament of stars.

A laugh came through the speaker of your cell phone, the same laugh that makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. "Did you see how beautiful the moon is?"

You smiled, humming a small "mhm" in response, before adding, "Yeah... It's full and very pretty. I wish you were here to watch it together."

Leon let out a small sigh, "Yeah, me too, what if you ask the moon for that?" You chuckled this time. It was a silly thing to do, but, why not?

"Like a birthday wish? But if you know it then it won't come true." Leon could hear the pout in your voice, and he smiled to himself. "Maybe there will be an exception this time." He murmured. "Come on, babe. Do it."

With your eyes closed, you let out a sigh, wishing with all your being that Leon could be by your side as soon as possible, and after a few seconds, you heard him speak, "Did you do it?"

"Yeah, I did... Time to wait I guess." Your gaze met that radiant crater that was seen in its maximum splendor, until something began to click in your head.

"Did you see how beautiful the moon is?" There is supposed to be approximately six hours between your location and Spain, so it was impossible for Leon to see the moon shining in its entirety, but you tried not to give too much thought to the matter, since the moon can also be seen during the day, although at lower exposure.

But if he talked about the moon... And how big it looked... That could mean that maybe he...

"The stars look very bright too." He added after.

"But, you know what I think is more bright?" He began, while his footsteps were heard on the cement, signaling that he had begun to walk.

Until he stopped.

"The brightest thing I'm going to see is your face when you look out the window."

That made you get up from your bed, phone in hand while with clumsy steps thanks to the sheets rolled up between your legs, you reached the window and realized everything.

He is here.

And when he saw that look light up on your face, he knew that the moon was nothing compared to how radiant you looked. "Hey, birthday girl."

It seems like the moon was the perfect alibi for Leon to sneak in and surprise you.

Or simply the moon heard your wishes, and fulfilled them on your special day.

a/n: OKAY... I'M STILL NERVOUS I PUT THIS ON THREE DIFFERENT GRAMMAR CHECKERS BUT I'M STILL AFRAID i suck at writing tbh but this idea was scratching my brain and i thought Hmm why not SO!!! i hope y'all like it :] i appreciate likes and reblogs annnnnd comments i love comments!!! feel free to give me tips to be better at writing or something THAT'S ALL BYE-BYE 🤲🏻

[puck-luck]

with a bang | nico hischier

warnings: dom!nico hischier, choking, masturbation (fem), voyeurism-ish? you'll see. , fingering, unprotected p in v, pet names and one use of "brat", hair pulling (mmmmmm), slight use of restraints, nipple play fs, SLIGHT dumbification pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader summary: nh comes home after a loss and gets out of his head by taking fem!reader out of hers wc: 3805

Two months ago, you got bangs. They were cute at first. When your hairdresser blew them out and styled them, the bangs looked great. When you wrapped your bangs around a curler overnight, they looked good. When you blow dried your bangs, they looked fine. Sometimes, though, you don’t want to style your bangs. You don’t want to deal with them.

Today is one of those days. You’re in the middle of doing housework on a lazy Saturday. Nico has a game in the early afternoon, so he’s not home. You’d normally go with him to hang with the other WAGs and enjoy his performance, but you’ve been putting off a deep clean of the bathroom for weeks and if you don’t do it now, you know you never will.

At first, you tied your hair back into a ponytail, but your bangs came loose and have been tickling your skin while you scrub at the tiles. Gradually, you became more and more frustrated and overstimulated with the strands of hair. You want them gone.

Your temporary solution, which turned out to work well, was to separate your hair and retie it into pigtails. Your hair hasn’t moved since you threw it up into these matching clumps of hair and you’ve been able to scrub the tiles clean. You were even so satisfied with that that you’ve moved onto the kitchen.

You deep cleaned the oven. You deep cleaned the fridge. You’re cleaning all the counters now. You don’t realize how much time has passed until Nico returns home after the game.

You’re wiping at a particularly tough spot on the counter, your arm aching from how much it’s been working today, when Nico wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in the side of your neck.

It makes you jump. You’re wearing headphones, so you hadn’t heard him come in. You take one of the headphones out of your ears and slip it into the pocket of your sweats. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” you greet. “How was the game?”

“We lost,” Nico replies, frown evident in his voice. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say. “You’ll get them next time, baby.”

“Don’t want to think about it.” Nico smooths a hand down your front, toying with the string of your sweatpants. “Can I take care of you?”

After so much time together, you know exactly what Nico means. Sometimes, after disappointing games, Nico has to get out of his head. There’s no better way for him to do that than to channel his disappointment and anger into his infinite drive to make you come. He uses his negative feelings to channel a headspace where he’s entirely in charge of what happens. He gets out of his head by taking you out of yours– by taking care of you and making you submit to him completely.

“Can I finish the counters first?” You ask, turning in his arms so that you can face him. “You know how I get about not finishing something I’ve started. It would bother me all evening.”

Nico smiles softly, nodding at you with eyes full of admiration and love. “Of course, perle. Do you want help?”

You shake your head. “I have a method. I think you’d get in my way, stinkerli. Go take a long, relaxing shower, Nico. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.”

Nico scoffs at the deprecating term of endearment. “Hate it when you use my own language against me,” he complains, although he plants a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips. 

“Little stinky one,” you tease, patting his chest. 

Nico pinches your side in warning before pulling away. “You gonna dress up for me?” he asks. “That pretty lingerie I got you for your birthday?”

You smile, a pretty blush spreading over your cheeks. “Yeah, baby. I’ll wear something pretty for you.”

Nico grins, nodding at you in approval. He takes a few steps toward the bedroom. You’ve just gone back to the counter when he calls out an instruction over his shoulder. “Keep the pigtails,” Nico says. “I like those, too.”

You snort out a laugh, continuing to wipe over the counter. You clean the sink because it’s part of the counter, then you turn to clean the island. All in all, it takes about five minutes. You might be rushing a bit, eager to get into bed with your perfect boyfriend and stop thinking for the night. Nico’s “long showers” are only fifteen minutes, though, so you have to rush if you want to be pretty for him. You don’t have to touch your hair, but if you’re honest, you haven’t touched the lingerie he bought you for your birthday. It might take you a minute to make the fabric work with you the way you want it to, so once you toss your cleaning rag in the closet that houses your household laundry, you head to the bedroom to get ready.

From the back of your closet, you pull out a red negligée and the matching bralette and panties. You feel like Sabrina Carpenter. Nico loves seeing you in red– it has to be some subconscious bias towards the color. Everything he loves is red– Switzerland, the Devils… even love and sex have red connotations. Red is passion. Nico thinks that you are made for the color red, to be someone for him to love.

The set comes with thigh-high stockings. You don’t need a garter belt to wear them, which is exciting. You’d always thought that garter belts were tacky. You’re not even sure if you’ll wear one at your wedding– although Nico would probably love to do a garter belt toss. His teammates would whoop and celebrate and try to catch the thing like eager-to-marry women with a bouquet. 

After donning the outfit, you lay out on the bed. 

While waiting for Nico to get out of the shower, you stare at the door. It’s cracked open and you can see Nico’s foggy reflection in the mirror. His body is so broad and strong. He’s always been tan, but he looks even more tan than you’re used to because he’s still got traces of summer on his skin. 

Your hand drifts lower. Before you know it, you’re touching yourself. Well, barely– you’re just skimming your fingers along the hemlines of your panties, then touching the lace that adorns the fabric between your legs. You’re really just tracing the flowery design on the delicate underwear.

That’s not how Nico sees it.

“What are you doing?” Nico asks curtly when he exits the bathroom, towel wrapped lowly around his waist. Your eyes are drawn to the dark hair that connects his belly button to his groin, then to the thatch of hair between his pecs. 

Catching your mistake, you take your hand away from your core. When you entered the bedroom and got ready for Nico, you entered a binding contract with your boyfriend. Only one word can breach the contract– your safe word– and without that, Nico is going to take care of you. He’s going to render you stupid, starting now. 

You already did something punishable. You touched yourself without permission.

“It didn’t feel good,” you tell him, trying to justify your actions. 

“I don’t care if it didn’t feel good,” Nico says, just like you knew he would. “You touched what’s mine.”

“I’m sorry,” you reply with a purposeful jut of your bottom lip. Sometimes, your innocent face is enough to put Nico on a sweeter path; a path that involves drawing the thoughts out of you slowly with slow orgasm after slow orgasm rather than beating them out of you with harsh spanks to your behind, a strong hand around your throat, and degrading language. 

Not today.

“Sorry isn’t good enough.” Nico shakes his hair out, drying it with a second, smaller towel that he drops to the floor when he’s done. Then, he leaves the bedroom.

You’re left alone, confused. Is this some sort of punishment in and of itself? Being left alone after thinking that Nico would positively ravage you for disobeying the rules that you know all too well? He’s never done this before. It’s not a bad punishment, but usually Nico tells you what he’s doing before he does it. He cares, even when he’s dominating the bedroom, and that’s how he shows it. So, why did he leave without a word?

You’re just pushing yourself up into a criss-cross applesauce position on the bed when Nico comes back. He muscles through the doorway, carrying the armchair from your living room like it’s not heavy at all. Your mouth opens, shocked and incredibly turned on by the feat of strength.

“What are you doing?” You dare to ask.

Nico places the chair opposite the bed, against the wall. He drops the towel from his waist, tossing it into the corner of the bedroom, near the towel he used to dry his hair. You’re met with the delicious sight of his half-hard cock. He sits. He spreads his legs in the chair, manspreading in a way that normally acts as an invitation. You’re ready to crawl towards him when–

“Lay back,” he commands, settling his forearms on the respective arms of the chair. His hands curl over the edges, relaxing against the piece of furniture.

You scramble to obey.

Once you’re positioned adequately, Nico speaks again. “Since you want to touch yourself so badly, you have to give me a show. Then, if your performance is good enough, we’ll go back to our night. How’s that, schatzi?”

It’s– it’s hot. You want to do that for him. You hadn’t thought about it before, but you love the idea of putting on a show and touching yourself just for Nico to see. The tension affects you just as much as it would if you were bent over Nico’s knee, under his heavy hand.

You spread your legs slowly. You bring your knees up, framing Nico between your thighs. 

He keeps his dark eyes on your face, expression impassive and unreadable. There’s only a hint of challenge in the clench of his jaw and the quirk of his strong brow.

You look over him. His hair falls elegantly. He’s got a shadow of a beard growing in. You love Nico’s hair– the hair on his head, his mustache when he lets it grow, the dark hair along his arms… best yet, the fine hair on his legs. You love touching his thighs, petting over the skin there.

You’re wet, surely darkening your panties. The sun, falling in the sky, filters through the blinds and casts shadows over your body. The same is true for Nico– when you look at him, you think about a tiger stalking his prey and calculating the right moment to pounce.

Your nipples are hard, poking against your bralette. One of your hands drifts up to your chest hesitantly, like you’re testing if Nico was being serious or not. Perhaps it’s a test– he doesn’t really want you touching yourself, but he’s waiting to see if you fall for it.

He doesn’t move, even as your thumb and index finger pinch the peak through the thin fabric. You rock your hips forward slightly at the sensation, rolling them into the air. You pinch again. Your other hand finds your other nipple, mirroring the sensation in tandem until you let out a quiet moan. 

Overeager and fueled by the fact that Nico isn’t jumping in, isn’t stopping you, you palm one of your tits and knead the skin. Your head falls back, eyes closing. You’re able to imagine that it’s Nico’s fingers against you, trailing down your stomach until the pads of his fingers graze over your clit. 

But they’re not Nico’s hands touching you. They’re your own.

You leave your breasts behind to tug at the sides of your underwear, adding pressure to your core when you grind your hips up into the air. You touch yourself again, letting your palm connect with your core in a delicious pass that just isn’t satisfying enough. You’re teasing yourself, just for the show.

You blink your eyes open, finding Nico again, hoping that he’s impressed.

He hasn’t moved from his original position. He lifts his eyebrow again, as if to ask, “Really?”

You blush. You might be just as red as the lingerie that Nico chose especially for you, especially for tonight. You feel small under Nico’s gaze– he’s gigantic, a huge presence, even though he’s said absolutely nothing since your performance began. You squirm a bit under his gaze. 

The intermission is over. You go back to your show.

You inch your panties to the side, just so that you can reveal your wet slit to Nico. You want him to see how wet you are as you toy with your clit and your nipples. You bore of your nipples after a few more minutes of pinching and twisting; instead, you use that hand to trace the lines of your neck. You run your knuckles over the length of the column before allowing your fingers to splay over the front of your throat. All you do is hold your hand there. If it was Nico, he’d be squeezing.

There’s a rustle.

Nico shifts in his chair, sinking lower in the chair and tilting his head to the side. Your eyes are drawn to his cock, which has grown fully hard. He’s moved a hand from the armest so that his fingers circle the base of his shaft, holding his cock.

You’re suddenly overwhelmed by the need to take it in your mouth. Fuck, how you want him to gag you with the thick member– but your show has barely started.

You press a finger against your hole, dipping into the heat just enough that Nico can see your fingertip disappear. 

Like revenge for going farther, Nico releases his base and cups his balls, giving himself a squeeze that makes you gasp before he returns to his base. Now, he’s smirking.

“Nico,” you breathe out, bringing your hand back to your tits. 

He hums in response. It’s barely anything, but you’ll take it.

“Please,” you beg, kicking a leg out farther so that he can see the way your finger has fully slid into your pussy, how your hole hugs the digit. “Want you to touch me.”

“Then why would you do it yourself?” Nico questions. “I was so close to joining you, baby. Why weren’t you patient?”

“Please,” you repeat. You have no good answer for his questions. It just happened. You didn’t mean to touch yourself like that, without his permission. You were just looking at your pretty boyfriend and his sexy body, and then all of a sudden, your fingers were on your clit.

“Please,” Nico mocks. “If you want anything from me tonight, you’ll stop begging and give me what I want. Make yourself come.”

“Nico,” you insist.

“God, you brat,” Nico spits, his beautiful face marred with a frown. “You want me to touch you? Fine. Get on your hands and knees. Face the headboard.”

You shoot into position, rolling to your stomach and scrambling up. Your panties are still pulled to the side, showing off your glistening, and now-empty, cunt. You don’t dare look back, knowing that it will only cause you more trouble. You expect Nico to bring a hand down on the globes of your ass, making the skin just as red as the lace on top of it. 

What you don’t expect is for him to thrust two thick fingers into your heat. It knocks the wind out of you as he moves his fingers inside of you, unrelenting and pulsing. Your head dips, forehead touching the pillows below you.

Nico does another thing you don’t expect. He wraps your pigtails around his hand like a boxer’s knuckle tape and pulls your head up until your scalp is screaming in pain.

“Face the headboard,” he hisses. “Was I not clear enough, dummerli?”

You moan as his fingers bump against your g-spot, your breath hitching and breaking as he undoes you with his fingers. It’s so much better than your own touch– you can’t even imagine why you’d ever want to touch yourself when you have Nico. He’s exactly right. Nico ought to be the only thing you need.

“Answer me,” Nico commands with another tug to your hair. 

“Yes,” you say on instinct, having already forgotten the question. You’re lucky that it’s the right answer, that Nico was clear enough, because you’d be in for it if you talked back. 

“Good,” Nico replies, pulling your hair so that your back arches. He leans down and kisses the back of your head to reward you for obeying him. “Now, come all over my fingers. We have to make sure you’re nice and wet for my cock, right?”

You babble out another affirmative word or two, clenching down and rocking back against his hand. 

Nico releases your hair in order to circle his fingers around your neck, pulling you up and meeting you halfway by draping himself over your back. Your core tenses with the effort to stay in exactly the position that Nico wants you to be in, spurring your orgasm further.

“Come,” he growls in a low voice next to your ear, his fingers digging into the sides of your throat.

You let go, your pussy contracting and tightening around his fingers. Nico continues to piston his digits into your cunt, sending wild jolts through your body with every touch. He fingers you through the shocks of your orgasm, the low cries and whines that leave your lips. You turn your head towards his, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you come. Nico presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, lightly petting over your neck in a comforting motion as you come down.

“Good girl,” Nico coos. “Look at you, giving everything to me. That’s my girl. Mi ängeli.”

“Nico,” you murmur, reaching a hand around to grab at his hair. You lean back into his touch, letting him hold you up. “Your cock.”

“What about it?” Nico teases. He rolls his hips against the curve of your ass. “It’s big, huh?”

“Fuck me,” you plead, twisting the strands of his hair between your fingers. 

“Tell me you want my big cock to fill you up,” Nico says, rolling his hips again. He maneuvers you onto your back again, crowding your space and laying atop you. He kisses over your neck, rocking his cock against your dripping cunt, but never penetrating you. His hands find your wrists, gently bringing them up above your head. He presses your wrists into the pillows, shifting so that they’re confined by his left hand. With the other, he grabs his cock and guides the head through your folds over and over, nudging your clit.

You moan as his tip touches you, mixing his precum with your own slick and previous release. 

“Say it,” Nico encourages, his breath hot over the swell of your lips.

“I want your big cock to fill me up,” you reply, following his direction exactly. He doesn’t get upset with you, despite the fact that he had to ask twice. No, he’s punished you enough. Now, he wants to make you feel good.

Nico smiles, touching the tip of your nose with his before kissing you– the first time his lips have completely met yours since he returned home. He takes his time shifting into you, letting his bulbous cockhead enter you with a satisfying pop. You try to suck him in, clenching down and grinding into him, but Nico goes at his own pace. Once his cock enters you, his hand turns to your chest. 

He takes your already sensitive nipples and bullies them with touches that have you arching into his hand. He pulls keens and whimpers from you, stealing the breath from your lungs with each kiss. He consumes you completely, stealing every thought from your head and making you submit to him entirely.

It’s exactly what he needed tonight, after that loss. In moments like these, Nico feels like he’s vindicated. It’s a further confirmation of his truth– that he knows, truly knows, that if soulmates are real, you’re his. Even if soulmates aren’t real, he swears that you were made for him.

“Come,” Nico encourages from under his breath. He’s ready to shoot off, but he wants you to come first– well, for the second time.

You don’t make him wait. It’s only a few more thrusts before you shatter underneath him, rising off the bed and rocking your hips to make the most of the orgasm.

You’re fully fulfilled when Nico comes inside of you, still gripping your wrists and tweaking your nipple while his cum paints your walls white. 

Nico touches you as you both ride through your climaxes, keeping his fingers splayed along your ribcage and hip. Although your wrists have been released, you keep them fixed above your head until your breath evens out. You touch his hair again, carding your fingers through it. 

Nico kisses down your body soothingly, not trying to start anything new.

“I love this set on you,” Nico murmurs. “I was right about it looking pretty.”

“You always think I look pretty.”

“Well, I’m always right.”

Nico nibbles at your neck, making you shiver. He pulls out of your heat slowly, covering your core with the crotch of the panties. They’ll need to be washed thoroughly, but you like that his cum is trapped inside of you because of the fabric.

“You’ll have to buy me more lingerie, since you think it’s so pretty.”

Nico laughs. “Greedy girl.”

“You’ve been lacking on your sugar daddy duties lately,” you reply, smiling up at him. “I thought you liked buying me things.”

“I’ve been busy,” Nico says, defending himself. “It’s hockey season!”

“Hockey, hockey, hockey, that’s all I hear from you,” you tease.

Nico rolls his eyes and doesn’t deign you with a response, instead deciding to kiss you and wrap his arms around you. He rolls to the edge of the bed and finds his footing on the ground, lifting you and walking to the ensuite bathroom. 

He sets you down on the ground, smacking your ass gently. You stand on your tiptoes to continue kissing him, feeling bouncy and satisfied after getting his dick inside of you.

“Bathroom, baby. Then I’ll make you a late dinner, hmm?” Nico kisses the tip of your nose, his big brown eyes twinkling as he looks at you. He pats your ass again, stepping away. “I’ll try not to ruin your clean kitchen.”

“You’d better not!” You call after him as he walks away. “I worked hard on cleaning that room today!”

note: this was inspired by me wearing pigtails at the end of the summer at the camp where i worked, and one of my guy friends came up behind me and pulled my pigtails really hard :) i don't think he understood the ramifications of that moment and i have found him slightly hot ever since :) despite not being attracted to him ever before.

[r0ttenhearts]

inconvenience

alhaitham x reader

sypnosis: after alhaitham fails to show up for your birthday “party” things seem to go worse between you as well as your best friend kaveh

warnings: angst, no comfort, arguments

the clock chiming felt taunting with every minute that passed. every minute that passed with alhaitham nowhere in sight. every minute that got closer to midnight. a gentle sigh left your lips, the thickly frosted cake sat in front of you untouched. you were sure if you had lit the candles they would have been nothing but melted wax by now.

you weren’t sure why you wanted to believe things would be different tonight. with alhaitham’s busy schedule it made moments between you two scarce and few. only speaking for a few minutes in the morning, knowing he’d be gone all day. you didn’t blame him for it, no. how could you? he was busy doing his job as a scribe! piling onto his already busy schedule felt nauseating. but you trusted his promise he made to you only two weeks prior. a promise to come home early on your birthday, to celebrate together.

it felt so long ago now. the clock reading 11:46 and he still wasn’t home. the sound of the door opening perked you up, a wide smile on your face as you got up, ready to greet alhaitham.

“haitham! i- oh.”

the blonde haired architect smiled softly at you, your shoulders slumping. “hey kaveh, why’re you home so late?” you spoke softly as he came inside.

“i just got caught up with things, figured i’d rather finish them here.. where’s alhaitham? i thought you two would be together right about now?”

you shook your head softly, “i guess he got caught up with things as well.”

kaveh studied your face for a moment before smiling sadly, “happy birthday (y/n).” you whispered a quiet thank you as he walked to his room, the door shutting gently behind him.

a silent storm brewed in your mind and you couldn’t help but feel so defeated. your boyfriend of four years couldn’t bother to show up for your birthday? did he really think his work mattered more than you?

you remembered every time you passed up something with your friends or an event you had wanted to go to, just for alhaitham. considering his feelings and knowing he didn’t like those things. only wanting to spend time together even if it meant missing out on things you also deemed as important.

always taking his feelings and thoughts on certain things, but he couldn’t even come home for your birthday? your sigh was much more aggravated than it was before, your patience as thin as paper.

just as you were about to put the cake away the door opened, the clock reading 12:24. no words were said as you closed the fridge door, making your way past alhaitham before he stopped you. a firm hand on your shoulder.

“what, alhaitham? it’s late, i’m going to bed.” you attempted to shrug his hand off but he held his grip. “you’re angry, why are you upset with me?” alhaitham spoke cooly and composed.

you scoffed loudly, angry tears were trying to escape your eyes but you wouldn’t let them. you wouldn’t cry over him.

“oh, i wonder! i really do, alhaitham. maybe because it’s my birthday and you didn’t bother to show up? just a reminder since you seemed to have forgotten, or do you just not care? i don’t think i want to know the answer.” you spat out like poison. a look of annoyance crossed alhaitham’s face.

“are you serious? you’re behaving like a child over your birthday? i was busy with my work, you know this. don’t go pouting now because i forgot one meaningless day.”

he didn’t care. he didn’t care how much this meant to you, even after telling him stories of how you always went out of your way for others. only to be disappointed in return. the one day of the year you wanted to feel like you mattered, and he didn’t care. he was more bothered with you being upset than anything.

“you can’t be serious alhaitham. you promised me!”

“then i suppose that promise didn’t mean much as i don’t recall ever making one.”

any argument you had in your mind now died. he wouldn’t care for any reason to justify your anger, he had made up his mind. and he wasn’t sorry for any of it.

you didn’t say anything as his hand left your shoulder, walking past you to the kitchen for a late night sandwich. you quietly made your way to kaveh’s room, shutting the door as quietly as you could behind you. kaveh spun around in his chair, a look of confusion on his face.

“kaveh.. alhaitham didn’t care! he just didn’t care at all. i waited all night, you know? i waited and waited and blew off invitations to spend my birthday with dehya and the girls and he just.. just didn’t care! he called me a child and i-“

“(Y/N)!”

your emotional rambling stopped at the yell of your name. kaveh held the same expression alhaitham had when he looked at you not too long ago.

“you are being an inconvenience right now, i have so much to do and i can’t deal with this right now. we can talk about it later but i’m busy right now. so please, get out of my room.”

you didn’t say anything as you left his room. alhaitham scoffing as you two saw each other before he made his way to his own room. the door shutting behind him.

you had never felt so unwelcome in a place you had grown to love and call home. but if you weren’t wanted, you knew better than to stay. to fight for a place that wasn’t yours. with that, you quietly slipped away into the night. texts and calls being missed from the both of them as you made a new life outside of them.

taglist: @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @aqualesha @linkookie197 @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @reblog-crazily @sparklylanddetective @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @maxineslair @kenmabfasf @samarill @whorerificstuff

[underthetree845]

(dazai osamu birthday post- 2024)

A Taste of Sunlight

Dazai Osamu/gn! Reader (oneshot)

cws: gn! reader (uses of 'bella(donna)') but gender not explicitly stated, mentions of suicide and self harm, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, ada dazai, ada reader, coworkers/friends to lovers, domestic love, domestic fluff, implied mutual pining, mentions of dazai's past suicide attempts, dazai's past spoilers, dazai's dark thoughts, dazai calling himself inhuman and undeserving, baking together, dazai's birthday, reader is dazai's safe space

wc: about 3.7k

summary: how will reader make dazai feel special on his birthday when he doesn't feel like he deserves to?

a/n: this turned out a little darker with dazai's thoughts than I thought it would, but i'm satisfied with how i wrapped things up! i know it's been awhile since i posted my own writing- burnout hit me pretty hard and it's been difficult to get back on my feet, but i knew i had to do something special for him (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

Ceilings, plaster. Can’t someone just make it move faster? Abandoned bottles of sake scattered on the tatami mat floor of his bedroom catch the light of the late morning sun as it creeps in through the curtains he keeps forgetting to close. Or rather, the curtains he can never bother to close on certain nights. He never forgets, not really. The dusty little fan in the corner of his room does little to break up the lingering staleness which hangs in the air. You should really open a window in here Dazai-kun, he heard your voice echo in the basement of his mind, Sunlight and fresh air are good for you. You were probably right. Sunlight and fresh air are good for you, everyone knows that. You somehow always are right about him. 

The sun had already found his skin that morning- or rather, the shield of cloth he uses to hide the vast nothingness underneath. The icky, inhuman blackness that he would never allow a creature like you to even brush with your fingertips. For the first time that day since observing the sun come up out his window with hollow eyes and a blank expression, Dazai sat up. Ignoring the slight ache in his head and soreness of his muscles, bandages seeming to be the only thing holding him together, Dazai arose from his futon and silently slumped to his kitchen to down a glass of water. Today was a pointless day. One that shouldn’t have happened at all. Probably one of the worst of Dazai’s life, save for a few particularly nightmarish ones. Nightmares. Maybe he’d wake up, wake up as somebody completely different; or as an old man, and realize that the countertop in front of him and fingers wrapped around the sturdy white mug in his grasp were all really from a time long gone. The mug’s black, dotted on eyes stared back up at him, Dazai’s own brown ones focused, the emotion behind them simply indescribable. Part of Dazai feared waking up too. Something light, something warm, managed to flicker in the cavern of his chest at the memory of the grin that had spread across your lips upon presenting him with the cat mug. A grin you only ever seemed to take on for his eyes. You, he should be ashamed of himself for allowing skin so pure to meet with his own bloody, bandaged hands. Muddled flesh that hardly ever got a taste of the sunlight which always seemed to bathe the surface of your skin. Dazai Osamu had always been a sinner, would it really make his eternal damnation that much worse if he decided to linger in your comforting embrace for a moment longer? 

Yes, today never should have happened. The first one so many years ago, and all the years of bloodshed, soiled bandages, and regret that followed. The number taunted him from the calendar Kunikida had insisted he hang up on his wall, your support in the idea being the only reason he had gone through with it at all. 06 19. The nineteenth of June. June 19th. Definitely some sort of horrible mistake by the gods of this universe. If they even existed. It’s hard to surprise Dazai Osamu. Most things can be predicted- whether it be by pattern of behavior… calculated likelihood, or something else of the like. Dazai thought- and still did- that it would be tragically poetic if the date of birth and the date of death on a gravestone perfectly matched. Right down to the date of the month. Yes, a perfectly beautiful idea of a gravestone Dazai had tried a handful of times to make his own. He had the scars to prove it. Aside from empty ‘happy birthday’s from the other executives, there were only really two people in the mafia who placed any sort of importance on Dazai’s birthday.  None of that mattered now. Of course, in reality, all of it mattered. It was what led him here, to the light which now poured in through the window in the living room of his little apartment. In the almost two years Dazai had been employed at the Armed Detective Agency, he’d had one birthday. He was new enough in the office last year that the prospect of his colleagues doing anything to commemorate the event was not very keen. Such was his hope. He did get a lollipop from Ranpo and a ‘happy birthday’ from Kunikida; the blonde did not get on Dazai’s back over his paperwork for the whole day. That was, until you first stepped foot into the agency a few months into Dazai’s employment. Ironically, in spite of all the warm welcomes you received from his colleagues, the brunette found himself extremely suspicious of you. No one could possibly charm that many detectives with nothing but a bit of sweetness and an even sugarier smile. Not just anyone could possibly hold that much warmth in their laughter and still have so much to share. That smile of yours. Dazai had ended many lives for many different reasons, despite having failed at cutting his own short so many times. Rarely did he ever spill blood to protect someone- much less because of some irrational, sentimental attachment. If not for his years in the mafia, it probably would have frightened Dazai to realize how easily he would watch the world burn if it meant that smile of yours would be safe. As it turns out, Dazai wasn’t entirely wrong. You weren’t just anyone- you were Name. You, who he didn’t deserve to even stand anywhere near. Who shouldn’t even bother buying someone like him some cat mug that made you think of him. He never knew he could be so emotionally attached to a piece of ceramic. But that was nothing compared to the way you made his head spin.  You would let out a giggle while calling him a flirt for the millionth time. You would share your umbrella with him on a rainy day, circle his birthday in a bright red marker on the little calendar sitting neatly on your desk. The desk right across from his. He’d pretend to not notice the glances you steal because he knows he’s far worse. Buying each other coffee on occasion- usual orders memorized. Experiencing such simple pleasures on a weekly basis- how could anyone have not expected Dazai to fall as hard as he did? 

The thing that broke him out of his trance were four soft knocks on the door. The same way you would knock on the wood of his desk to discreetly get his attention. Dazai was about to dismiss the four knocks as a phantom of his imagination before they sounded again, causing him to turn his head and peer at the door as if it had just grown a pair of wings and flown away. Before you could get the chance to knock again or ring his phone, Dazai ran a bandaged hand through his scruffy locks before brightening up his expression slightly and opening the door. And there you were- not unlike the sunlight which flooded in through the entryway, the first thing you did was send prickles of warmth into his skin and allow that smile of yours to glow. 

“Ah, Bella! I didn’t expect to see you here today,” Dazai greeted you with a singsong voice, “You’re looking as radiant as ever. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Dazai held his mask up for the whole sixty seconds it took you to reply. In that time, your honeyed eyes scanned over the expanse of his face in a way only you could make so overwhelming. The grin on his lips, though meticulously crafted, failed to meet his eyes. He knew you could tell the moment your irises flickered with an emotion far too deep for Dazai to have the energy to explore. You somehow always were right about him.  It didn’t take much longer for you to ask if you could come in for a while, and Dazai accepted as if he’d ever have the strength to refuse. The fabric tote bag clunked with weight as you placed it on his kitchen counter, Dazai trailed behind you as if your torsos were connected by some invisible string. His eyes reminded you of a burnt black cat.

As far as cooking came, Dazai knew how to prepare a few basic things. How to scramble eggs, how to steam rice, how to use the microwave, how to open a can of crabs. It had always been too much of a nuisance to bother with anything more. The cigarettes and sake sustained him well enough. Even so, he found himself peering over your shoulder with dark, curious eyes as you unpacked several ingredients and laid them neatly on the counter.

“My my, did you go shopping for me? How thoughtful,” a small grin played on Dazai’s lips as he held up a tiny bottle of vanilla extract with an inspectful eye. Uncapping the bottle, he took a moment to inhale the scent, goosebumps rising underneath the bandages on the back of his neck at how much it reminded him of your usual shampoo.

“You like cheesecake, right?” you asked, voice a gentle breeze as you tilted your head in his direction. It’s hard to surprise Dazai Osamu. He paused momentarily, raising an eyebrow as you cleaned your hands in the sink. How you came to acquire such a fact was beyond him. Your fingers then reached out to preheat the oven, the one he usually didn’t spare so much as a glance. “I’ve only had the chance to taste it a handful of times, but I do have to admit, I’m a fan,” Dazai replied. You were smart enough to bring your own mixing bowls, pans, and stirring utensils. Sometimes he questioned how he ever allowed you to come to know him so well. “If you wanna help me, would you mind washing your hands first, please?” you requested, and Dazai didn’t even wait a moment before turning to the sink. 

You did a better job of filling his apartment with warmth and light than the sun ever could. From the way your shoes sat at the front door right next to his own to the way your perfume would linger around after you’d taken your leave. Your fingers would cup over his own as you demonstrated how to properly stir the ingredients together. He would internally curse the persistence of the butterfly in his chest when you commented on how pretty you thought his hands were. You made his sparsely decorated, thin-walled little apartment feel just a little more like a home. Dazai waited patiently with the batter in his arms as you pressed the buttery graham cracker crust firmly into the pan. If the universe were kind, he would have been allowed to stand there and take you in until the end of time. He knew he probably wouldn’t ever deserve to have someone like you in his life. Not the way your eyes softened when they met his, not the way you flushed so beautifully in response to his compliments and praise. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to give you as much as you deserve. He didn’t even come close to deserving the trust you must have had in him that evening on the metro, when you slept on the shoulder of his coat. Both of you missed your stops that day. How could anyone have expected him to have the heart to disturb you? They were the ones who whispered how he didn’t even have one.

Before he knew it, the cake was almost ready to be placed in the oven. Your fingers cupped his own once more as you helped him pour the batter evenly before scraping the last bit out with the blue silicone spatula from your bag. He spun the pan in a circle on the countertop to even the batter as you slipped a pair of well used oven mitts onto your hands. “Looks perfect,” you offered some gentle praise and he felt his heart soften. Once the batter had been slid into the warmth of the oven, you removed the floral print oven mitts from your hands and leaned against the counter with a sigh. Dazai’s eyes were drawn to the way your fingers were delicately folded in front of you, how soft your skin looked and how it might feel against his own. From the gentle curve of your lips to how your eyelashes brushed your cheeks and the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed… he found himself at a loss. You always somehow seemed to dwindle him to a shadow of his former self, bring out sides of him he didn’t even know he had. Out of all the crimes Dazai had committed in his life, stealing your heart was by far the worst one. He didn’t think he’d be able to give your heart back if he tried, especially when you held his own so easily in the palm of your hand. “Have you had water today?” you voiced, finally turning to bless him with your gaze. “I drank some just before you came, actually,” Dazai replied, eyes briefly flickering over to the now empty cat mug sitting on the counter. “Would you care for something to drink yourself? What might suit your fancy, m’lady?” He cocked his head playfully. Your eyes regarded his thoughtfulness. A look far too fond for someone like him. Especially from someone like you. “Some water might be nice, thank you.” “You know I aim to please,” he nodded slightly, opening the fridge to get his pitcher.

A little while later, a timer went off on your phone, and Dazai tilted his head when you slid the oven mitts back on and set the cheesecake on the stovetop. “Isn’t it a bit too soon, Bella?” he inquired, leaning over your shoulder as you grabbed a little green bowl that had previously been set aside, “The center still looks a bit too mushy, doesn't it?” You hummed slightly, a pleased expression crossing your face. “Look at you, getting more adept at cooking already?” a soft grin played on your lips as you gave him an affectionate pat on his cheek. “I’m learning from the best,” Dazai replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiled. “You’re right, it’s not quite done yet, but I’m adding the topping now so it can cook a little with the cheesecake at the very end,” you explained as you carefully poured the topping on, “It’s usually done this way. Makes it yummier.” It’s wrong, Dazai thinks, to indulge himself in your company like this. There are a million other better ways you could be spending your time. Not taking the time out of your day to come fan a flame already at the end of its wick. Even so, even if a part of Dazai might never allow himself to fully believe what you say when you tell him what kind of person he is in your precious eyes, nothing but being in your arms has ever felt so close to what others might describe as home.  Not where he grew up, not his shitty old shipping container or the mattress on its rotting floor. Not any of the places he would lie awake at night hoping to waste away or any of the many bottles of sake that have met his lips. They filled his stomach, flushed his skin, but left his chest cold, barren, empty. “Cherries are in season this time of year you know?” you said, sighing at the scent of the mashed up fruit and sugar bubbling in the pan in front of you. Combined with the warm scent of the cheesecake wafting from the oven, even Dazai, whose appetite usually didn’t amount to much at all, found his mouth beginning to water. “Are they?” he tilted his head with a fond smile, imagining what it might be like to get used to having you in his kitchen more often. What a dream it would be to have coming home mean coming home to you. You looked so perfect in his apartment it almost hurt. Whether you were curled up on the cushions of his couch, cross legged on the floor, or standing in front of the stove pouring some homemade cherry sauce over a freshly made cheesecake, he would take it all. Savor every last bit of the warmth and light with which you filled his apartment.  “Why don’t you open a window in here before we start eating?” you suggested, and Dazai let out a breath of resigned amusement. He stood from where he had been leaning against the countertop and strolled over to the living room. “Hm, Bella, don’t people usually eat cheesecake cold?” Dazai wondered, looking back at you for a moment as you grabbed a pair of forks from a drawer. “Yeah, they do,” you replied, placing two equally sized slices of cheesecake onto one of the plates from Dazai’s cabinet. He didn’t have to remind you where they were kept. “But personally I like eating it warm, I always have,” your lips curved up into a smile, “especially when it’s freshly baked. Makes it yummier.” “Huh, well I trust your opinion,” he offered a slight smile, returning to take a seat at the little round table just as the two plates were lowered. The cheesecake looked even more appetizing now that it had been neatly sliced and plated, but nothing made him want to eat it more than the fact that it had been prepared by the loveliest pair of hands he had ever met. 

Dazai took notice of the way you held your breath when he took his first bite; you shouldn’t have been so anxious for the approval from the likes of him, yet he found it hard to get himself to care when you looked so downright adorable while doing it. His eyelids slid shut for a brief moment, being sure to completely savor the mouthful before swallowing with a bob of his throat and finally meeting your gaze with his own. “Bella…” Dazai started, hands unmoving, voice lower than usual. You furrowed your brows when you couldn’t decipher his tone. “What is it? Is it okay?” you leaned forward, eyes searching his face for any sort of indication. “Do… do you not like it?” something pulled tight in your chest at the thought, your grip on your fork stiffened slightly, “It’s okay if you don’t, you can say so.” The following heartbeat of silence felt like it stretched on for an eternity. “Bella you’ve ruined me,” he sighed dramatically, slumping in his seat and placing the back of his hand on his forehead in exasperation, “How am I ever supposed to enjoy anyone else’s cheesecake ever again?” His heart nearly melted when you paired a blink with the slightest tilt of your head, he could see the wheels in your mind turning for answers. “So you… do like it?” you spoke softly, as if afraid to disturb whatever strange state of emotion Dazai was using to express his feelings about the cheesecake. “No, my Dear, I’m afraid ‘like’ isn’t nearly a strong enough word, not even close!” he suddenly sat up straight in his seat, “I love it so much, I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy cheesecake ever again unless you make it for me.” Finally, Dazai gets his reward when a grin splits onto your lips. “Is that so?” you giggle when he cups your hands between his own and nods urgently. That smile of yours. “Absolutely. You’ve doomed me to a pathetic existence,” Dazai pretended to cringe in pain, “forever wandering in search of the joy I once experienced, never knowing if-” “...I’ll do it again,” you said, and his ears perked up. “Hmm? What was that? You’ll do what again?” he raised his eyebrows, satisfied with the flush now evident on your cheeks. “I’ll make you cheesecake for your next birthday, and the one after that, and any time you want some in between,” you smiled sweetly, and Dazai’s heart leapt at your sincerity. “Do you mean it?” his eyes seemed to light up slightly, matching the sparkle in your own. He squeezed your hands. 

There was a saying in the Port Mafia. ‘The biggest misfortune for Dazai’s enemies is that they are Dazai’s enemies.’ Whether they called him a demon prodigy or the black wraith or a dog of the mafia really made no difference. When the sun set, they would be the ones quivering at the barrel of his gun as he listened to their pleas with cold, dead eyes. Dazai has been called by many names throughout his life; most, he knew, were well deserved. Even when addressed by his own name, it was usually out of exasperation, irritation, unease, or something else of the like. People spat his name with the bitter bite of a cold rain, and he couldn’t even remember the last time someone uttered his given name very tenderly at all. It was dangerous, Dazai thought, how easily he could see himself growing used to being with you like this. Pathetic, how the Demon Prodigy of the Port Mafia was reduced to a shell of himself the moment you offered so much as a smile. The way you said his name made him seem like something precious; something worthy of getting to see that smile of yours, to have your eyes light up when they meet his. 

“Happy birthday, Osamu,” you said, and god your voice had never sounded sweeter. Yes, you’ve ruined him. Absolutely ruined him. Reduced him to a shadow of his former self with nothing but a bit of sweetness and an even sugarier smile, and the worst of it all was that you didn’t even know it. You tore away all those layers of bandages, you reached out and touched something Dazai didn’t even know he had. Even as his heart bled, you would cradle it close to your chest, whisper sweet nothings that everything would be alright. Dazai found himself inclined to believe you. Perhaps the reason he seemed to be without a heart for all those years of bloodshed, soiled bandages, and regret, was because it had been with you all along. 

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

a/n: thank you so much for reading! it means a lot- i hope you have a lovely day/night/morning/evening and remember to drink plenty of water! divider credit: (x) (x) tagging: @ringsofsaturnnnn

[lets-get-saucy]

Collecting Strays - Kelley O’Hara X Reader (platonic)

Summary: Miss Kelley is known for making friends with younger players and taking them under her wing. When she notices you, a rookie at Gotham, are having a bad day, she does what she can to make you feel better, adding you to her collection of younger players she looks out for.

Warnings: slight angst  

It had been less than a month since you signed with Gotham. Just a few short weeks ago your mom had helped you move in to your new apartment and get set up in this new city. At first everything was fine. You seemed to fit in well with the team making a few friends with your fellow teammates.

One in particular was Kelley O’Hara. One your very first day with Gotham, Kelley took you under her wing, showing you around, giving you tips during training, and just being a supportive teammate.

Normally, you were excited for practice but today you just couldn’t muster up the energy to even try to seem excited to be there. First, your coffee had spilt in your car leaving you un-caffeinated. Then, you couldn’t stop shivering as you walked outside to the training pitch. The wind was blowing in your face making you even colder despite the training jacket you had on. The sky seemed to get greyer and greyer as training went on. You also weren’t playing as well as you could.

At the end of practice you took a deep breath, not wanting your teammates to see you cry. Showering as quickly as possible and throwing on clothes, you quickly made your way out of the changing room trying to avoid conversation.

Today was just a hard day, your teammates didn’t need to know that.

You were halfway out the building when a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Hey kid,” Kelley said turning you to face her, “what’s up? You’ve been off all day.”

You try to shrug off Kelley’s hand, not bothering to take your eyes off the floor.

“Nothing’s up, I’m just having an off day,” you lie.

“That’s not going to work with me kid,” Kelley crossed her arms in front of her.

Still not looking up you just shrug in response.

“Come on, your gonna come over to my place,” Kelley demanded pushing you towards the door.

“Kelley, really I’m fine I just want to go back to my apartment,” you try and pull away from her.

“Spending an hour at my apartment wont kill you,” Kelley said practically dragging you to her car.

That’s how you ended up on Kelley’s couch, hot chocolate in hand watching some random show.

“So, you want to talk about it yet?” Kelley ask, once you finish your drink setting down.

“No, not really,” you say, turning your attention back to the tv.

Kelley lets out an exaggerated sigh, causing you to roll your eyes.

“I told you early, I’m fine.” Looking over Kelly arches an eyebrow, causing you to sigh this time. “Okay, it’s my mom’s birthday and I miss home and I miss my dog and I really wish I could be there celebrating with everyone and I love it here but…”

Kelley cuts you off “woah, take a deep breath,” pulling you into a hug you burry your face in her neck wrapping your arms around the older woman.

You hadn’t realized you were crying but now it felt like you couldn’t stop.

“I miss home,” you whimper in Kelley’s embrace.

“Shh, I know,” she says rubbing your back. “I know.”

You don’t know how long you to stay like that. With you practically in Kelley’s lap letting it all out as she runs her fingers through your hair and rubs your back, holding you until you calm down.

Once she notices your sobs had stopped Kelley pulls back slightly, wiping your tears away.

“I know its hard,” she says her thumb stroking your cheek. “I wont lie to you and tell you it gets easier. In this profession, you’re always going to miss something. Birthdays, holidays, weddings, but you get so much more and make so many amazing memories and travel to new places, it’ll make it worth it. I’m sorry you miss home but just know this team is here for you. I’m here for you.”

Fresh tears make its way down your cheeks and you whip at them with your shirt sleeve. “Thank you Kelley. Not just for today but for being there for me even when I first joined the team.”

“Of course” Kelley smiled pulling you in for a hug. “Now how about we get some ice cream, ice creams guaranteed to make anyone happy.”

You laugh for probably the first time today, “okay.”

It had been a few hours since your breakdown to Kelley but you were still in her apartment. A knock at the door startled you both. Kelley rolled her eyes when a familiar voice called out. You could tell that a few people were outside, namely Rose and Sonnett, but you couldn’t tell who else.

At first you had thought Kelley had invited them over but when someone knocked Kelley rolled her eyes mumbling how some people just wouldn’t leave her alone as she went to open the door. You knew her annoyance was fake though when Jenna walked through the door Jenna launched herself at Kelley. Kelley picked her up spinning the younger girl around. Rose and Sonnett followed behind walking into Kelley's apartment. You smiled in greeting to your teammates.

Sonnett and Rose made their way into the living room, saying quick hellos as Kelley sat Jenna back down on her feet.

“You guys ate ice cream without us,” Sonnett frowned when she noticed the two empty bowls on the coffee table.

“Ice creams for invited guest only,” Kelley said following Jenna and Rose into the living room.

“I’m hurt Miss Kelley,” Sonnett placed a hand over her heart pretending to be offended.

“What are you guys watching,” Rose said sitting down between you and Sonnett.

“Just some trash reality tv show,” You said causing Kelley to scoff.

“First, they barge in then you insult the tv shows I watch.”

“We should watch a movie,” Jenna interrupts as she squeezes herself in between Sonnett and Rose.

“I agree,” Sonnett picks up the remote, looking for a movie to watch.

“You guys know this is my apartment, right?” Kelley is still standing, her hands on her hips looking at all of you.

“Please Miss Kelley? That show was boring,” you stick out your bottom lip, giving Kelley the best puppy-dog eyes you can.

“Sonnett, look what you’ve taught her,” Kelley gasp causing the room to laugh. “My sweet innocent baby calling me Miss Kelley.”

Kelley pinches your cheeks, swatting at her hands trying to get her to stop as the others laugh at you two. “I’m not a baby,” you pout.

“You’re one of the youngest on the team, of course you’re a baby,” Kelley says finally sitting down next to you pulling you into her side.

You cross your arms sinking back into the couch.

“Does that mean I’ve been upgraded Miss Kelley?” Jenna ask leaning forward to look at Kelley.

“Ugh not you too,” Kelley groans covering her face with her hands.

“Shh guys, Sonnett picked a movie,” Rose said kicking her feet up on the coffee table.

The movie started and everyone was quite watching as the opening credits came on the screen.

“Wait!” Jenna stood up from the couch, walking to the kitchen. “We need popcorn.”

After the movie, Sonnett, Rose, and Jenna started getting their things together.

“Thanks Miss Kelley for letting us crash your place,” Jenna said pressing a kiss to Kelley’s cheeks.

“Yeah yeah,” Kelley said taking empty bowls to the kitchen.

A chorus of byes followed as the other women made their way out of Kelley’s apartment, leaving just you and her. You grabbed the remaining bowls from the coffee table, taking them to the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Kelley said taking them from your hands.

“It’s okay, it’s the least I can do since you let me stay here all day,” you shrugged.

“If I remember correctly, I had to drag you to my car earlier,” you roll your eyes at Kelley’s response.

You lean against the counter as Kelley loads her dishwasher, “about that, how am I getting to my apartment?”

“Why don’t you just stay her tonight and I’ll drive us to training in the morning?”

You try to come up with an excuse but you don’t have one and you don’t really want to be alone right now any ways.

Nodding, your wrap your arms around yourself, “okay, thanks.”

“Yeah its no problem,” Kelley says giving you a soft smile.

Now that a few hours had gone by you realized you weren’t sad anymore, or as sad. Kelley had succeeded in taking your mind off things. You didn’t realize how desperately you had needed the company. If you hadn’t come over to Kelley’s you would have probably gone back to your apartment after practice and spent all day crying in your bed.

“No Kelley, I mean thank you, for today,” you admit. “I really needed this.”

“I know kid,” Kelley says pulling you in for a hug.

[glorysbox]

hi it’s me elias 🙏🙏 i had an idea for a bot I wanted to make but I thought it would be way better if you wrote it ‼️ because I read the one where you’re in the jeep and… well. ANYWAYS

my idea is basically you and Leon are long distance and you barely see each other except for a few times a year, you barely even get to call because you’re both really busy with work. it’s Valentine’s Day and you’re alone (obviously) but you really miss him. he’s not responding to your calls and it’s worrying you, maybe he’s found someone else?? then you hear knocking at your door and there he is!!!! he’s flown to see you for Valentine’s Day to finally spend time with you again. his intentions aren’t entirely sexual at first, he also just really misses you and wants to make sure you’re okay. but then he quickly realizes what he wants (and what you want.) it’s been SO long since the two of you have had sex. like years and he’s been thinking about it so much like all the damn time

you really don’t have to include all the stuff at the beginning but I just wanted to give you like the backstory ig for my idea so you can write it like. so that it makes sense. i’m really not good at explaining things so I hope this makes sense and also i love your writing

this ended up being so long... i'm sorry. right after i said i would only do 1-2k fics

leon x gn!reader (i wasn't sure if you wanted anything specific so i made it as neutral as possible!) wc: 4.6k... warnings: explicitly 18+, cumming inside, hurt + comfort, Leon's a little bit of a jerk unintentionally, make-up sex

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Leon.

You knew that you'd be alone. That he'd go on missions in foreign countries—dangerous missions—and that you'd be left wondering if he was okay or if he was even alive. But you still started dating him.

Because you love him.

Which is why today of all days is especially difficult for you. It's like the world is taunting you—everywhere you turn, there's an advertisement for Valentine's Day specials or a couple making out on the damn corner or a guy beaming as he walks down the street holding a box of chocolates and flowers in both hands.

You love Leon... but god do you hate Valentine's Day. It's one thing to only see your boyfriend a few times in a year, and it's another to be constantly reminded about just how lonely you are without him. Which is why you're currently sat on your couch, lights off, snuggled under the blanket that he bought you some odd few years ago. It still smells like him.

It's not something you've ever bothered to bring up to him. Just how lonely you are and how you miss him so often—he already has so much on his plate, why add more? That's what you tell yourself. Still, the feelings are starting to bubble over into... uncharted territory. Each time your phone buzzes, you find yourself excitedly grabbing it to see if maybe, for once... he'd call you on Valentine's Day. Or call you at all for that matter.

But he doesn't.

He never has.

He probably never will.

You really don't mean to be so upset about it... you knew what you were getting into. But still... at least one call a week, right? That's what he's promised you.

It's been two.

And it's far from the first time that he's skipped calling you. As much as it pains you to admit, there are more important things that he has to deal with—and as much as you want to be, you're unfortunately low on his priority list.

But again, you deal with it.

Because you love him.

Even if he doesn't always get the chance to call you on your birthday because he's so busy with work. Valentine's Day always goes the same. You're alone. Your boyfriend doesn't call you. You're left to watch the stupid, cheesy romance movies that you wish you could force Leon to watch and cuddle up with him on the couch like a normal couple would.

But... you're not a normal couple. You've long since accepted that... or, tried to. You've tried. Here you are, just as you have been for the past however many years, crying on your sofa as you imagine what could have been. What your relationship could be if Leon didn't have such an intensive job. It's not long before the tears start to flow freely down your cheeks.

The guilt eats you alive. You feel bad for wanting to demand some of Leon's attention. You feel bad for even feeling bad, for crying out loud. Even though, if Leon were here right now, you know that he'd comfort you and tell you just how appreciative he is of you for even sticking around for someone like him—a government agent with too much baggage.

"Damn it..." The frustration is evident as you speak to no one in particular—the noise coming out of your mouth more of a pathetic mutter than anything as you struggle to keep your emotions in check. Grabbing the remote, you very quickly turn off the scene in the movie where the two leads were about to confess their love for each other and share a kiss. God, you could use one of those right now. Being without Leon kills you. Not being able to feel his biceps around your body, squeezing the life out of you, kills you. Not being able to wake up next to him and see the way that he smiles when you're the first thing he sees opening his eyes.

It kills you so much, in fact, that as you trudge towards the front door after hearing a few short knocks, that you're not even bothering to mask your sniffles or the fact that you're feeling less than hot right now.

You hate Valentine's Day.

Opening the door with a sigh, you wipe your tears away with the back of your hand—again, not being exactly too mindful of the person who's at your front door. Cluelessness and a lack of situational awareness has always, truly, been your downfall. Of course. It's Leon. Now you're just feeling guilty again—having spent the whole day cursing him out in your mind only for him to show up at your door to surprise you.

"Are you..." You feel a familiar hand cup your face, the warmth of his calloused palm pressing and squishing against your cheek as Leon's fingers press into the soft skin. The sound of plastic wrap crinkling fills your ears; if you were to look up from your feet, you would be able to see the bouquet of flowers. Flowers. For you. From Leon. On Valentine's Day.

A part of you wants to jump into his arms. To plant kisses all over his face. To thank him for even thinking of you, even if what he's done is just the bare minimum. Another part of you just can't help but feel frustrated. Knowing that after this, after the one day that you stay together, he'll be called in to another other-worldly mission that leaves you up at night with knots in your stomach anticipating his next call to know if he's okay.

Leon's touch leaves goosebumps in it's wake. His thumb wipes the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, and then trails down to feel the skin of your neck. He can practically feel the heat radiating off of you.

"You're crying." A statement, more than a question. Your eyes are red, your pretty lips turned into a frown, and your red nose is enough of an indication of the truth. How are you going to get yourself out of this one? You really, really don't want to burden him with your feelings. You're happy, really. He doesn't need anything more on his plate.

"I...'m fine. Really, I'm just..." A sigh escapes your lips. An involuntary one. Looking up finally, you meet his gaze. Leon's icy blue eyes bore into your own, his brows drawn in and a taut frown visible on his lips. "Just was watching a sad movie." He hates to see you upset. Leon knows it's wrong of him to neglect you like this. But to see the effects of what he's done... to say that he feels horribly guilty and responsible would be an understatement. And he is responsible.

"A sad movie on Valentine's Day?" He questions, his tone slightly teasing as you step aside to let him inside of your apartment. Leon takes a deep breath—the scent of your apartment and warmth enveloping him, finally, after months. He always preferred your apartment over his... it feels like home, in his words. "I got you these."

You don't respond as he walks in your apartment like he owns it. You follow him as he makes his way into your kitchen, the silence thick and unbearable and equal parts uncomfortable. You missed him. Badly. And yet, still... you're finding it hard to open up to him right now. Maybe it's the years of bitterness of this specific damn day that are catching up to you. Leon opens your cabinet, taking out one of your mason jars to fill with water and put your hydrangeas in. As much as you want to appreciate them... and his presence, you find it hard.

"Leon, I—"

"I'm sorry." His voice cuts you off before you can continue; his tone low and just as apologetic. The mason jar full of baby blue hydrangeas is cast off to the side of your countertop as he makes his way towards you. The scent of his favorite aftershave (that he only uses to impress you) fills your nostrils as he breaches the distance between the both of you.

"You don't have to—"

"I want to. I want to apologize. I need to..." His hands reach, gripping the skin of your forearms as he speaks. Leon sighs after a few moments, one of his hands reaching to run through his dirty blonde hair in a rare display of uncertainty from him. He's not good in these situations. "I haven't been the best." That's... certainly an understatement. And he knows it, too, judging from the look of guilt on his features.

Silence fills the kitchen for a few moments. Leon struggles to find the words that he wants to say—and he does have so many things to tell you. He wants you to know just how much he's missed you. He wants you to know how thankful he is for you always sticking around. He wants you to know how sorry he is for not being the boyfriend he thinks you deserve.

But... Leon was never really that good at expressing himself. Communication is one of his weakest points—he's closed off. Hard to read. But he's trying. Very hard, right now, just for you.

Because Leon loves you.

"I haven't called you. I'm sorry. I've been..." Leon swallows, shaking his head for a moment, as he then lets out a sigh. "There's no excuse. I'm sorry."

Eye contact with Leon is something that you've always savored. He's the kind of man that makes you weak in the knees just from the looks that he gives you. Of course, yes—that extends to this very moment. His eyes are full of so much... love, is it? Appreciation for you? Whatever it is, it's making your face turn redder and your heart beat faster and your hands clammier than they have ever been for the past year.

"I know you're busy, Leon... you don't have to apologize to me." The feeling of his hands running along your arms has you breathing a little quicker than before. "I'm not upset at you for it." You are, though. And he knows it. And he knows that you're just refusing to admit it because you don't want to stress him out any more than he already is, considering the state of his job.

Another long, tense silence fills the room as the both of you struggle to find the words to say. This isn't how he wanted your meeting after God knows how long to go—even though, realistically, after being neglected by him for so long... this was the only possible outcome. Still, he savors the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. He savors the pretty color of your eyes and the way you look at him so intensely that it makes his knees weak. Not that he would ever admit that last part.

"I love you. More than you know... I'm sorry." Another apology slips from his lips as he continues to feel the skin of your arms. The way his thumb rubs circles on your shoulder makes you want to explode and melt into putty right then and there. "I want to do better. To show you how much you really mean to me."

"How do you plan to do that?" The question comes out softly; the tone of your voice unconsciously sweet as you find the anger and bitterness seeping out of you by the second. It feels good. He's only touching your arm, and yet, it feels too good. You needed this. He needed this more than you did.

Leon, once more, is not a man very adept at communication. He keeps his feelings bottled up. A defense mechanism—he has to, in the line of work that he's in. What is good at, though, is showing you. You barely register it at first, the feeling of his lips on yours. It's so familiar yet alien at the same time. It's been so, so long.

His lips are soft as they're on your own. Leon's hands gently wrap around your body: one clinging to your upper arm, the other perched right on your waist. His favorite place to touch when you're kissing like this—something you'd nearly forgotten. You respond nearly immediately, almost instinctively, as your lips match his own. The tears that were just falling from your face ten minutes ago are long since forgotten now. He pulls away, much to your dismay.

"I missed you." Leon's lips are back on your own before you can respond; his touch and kiss sweet and soft and loving and essentially everything you've ever wanted for the past however long. He pulls away again, hovering over your lips. "I love you."

"I missed you more." You respond, gripping to pull him closer. He leans in again, the ghost of a smile on his lips at the way you quip back at him. These are the moments that he truly relishes in. Being inside of your warm apartment, feeling your lips on him, being able to touch you all over without having to worry about the constraint of time. Just being with you. If he had his way, it would be like this every day. He'd wake up next to you. Tell you how much you mean to him. Feel you. Every day.

"The thought of you is the only thing that kept me going." Leon says softly, his hands riding up your arms to cup your face in both of his palms. He places one sweet, soft kiss on your lips. Then another. "Knowing that I'd be able to come back to you one day."

The admission has you speechless—you think, at least. It might just be the way he's kissing you, the way he's guiding you closer to him and the way his lips are beginning to move with just the slightest bit more passion. You’re putty in his hands, and he's equally putty in yours.

It's not long before his hands start to... travel. He can't help it. Leon is a disciplined man. His job requires it of him; self control is an aspect of his personality that's saved he and many, many of the other people that he's come to work with. When it comes to you, though, he finds it... particularly hard to keep himself in check. It's evident in his restrained motions against you.

The way his hands flutter to your waist, squeezing the flesh slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough for you to not be able to ignore it's presence. His breath quickens, the warmth fanning over your face as you swear his pupils are blown further than you've ever seen them. He doesn't want you getting the wrong idea, though. He really did just come to give you some flowers and apologize... but it's you.

How can he not want to lose control?

Leon is a very selfless man... times like this, however, he finds himself to become increasingly selfish. "I love you," he repeats, his fingers running along the hem of your shirt. Cold fingers press against the warmth of your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as they travel further up your torso. "Let me show you how much I love you."

"In the kitchen?" The question comes out more teasing than angry, the breathlessness of your tone making Leon's grip on your skin tighten. There's no response for a few moments—not because he's ignoring you, but because he's focusing on placing wet, hot kisses on your neck and lining them just below your ear. He knows you're sensitive there. He breaks away from your neck for a few moments.

The way his eyes are trained on your own have your heartbeat quickening even faster; the lack of a response making you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You're not even naked, and still he manages to make you feel so exposed under his gaze. One of his hands begin to bunch up your shirt, not enough to fully reveal your body.

You try not to focus on his arms too much—try not to focus on the way the veins line the muscles that he's built over the years. You try not to focus on the protrusion in his pants. His labored breathing. The way that he looks at you.

"In the bed." he uses the hand gripping your shirt to begin to guide you down the hallway. Towards the bedroom.

Leon makes good on his promise of showing his love for you.

It's been too long since you've been with him like this. Back flush against the bed, shirt pulled up just under your chin, his hands roaming all over the soft skin of your body, squeezing on the sensitive flesh of your thighs. His fingers ghost over the fabric of your underwear for a few moments, eyes trained on your reaction as he relishes in the way that you squirm under him.

"Just as sensitive as I remember," he muses, his knuckle applying pressure slightly—a smile on his face as he anticipates your reaction. "It's been too long."

"Mm," You can only hum in response, the sound of your own pulse thrumming in your ears as your body unconsciously reacts to his touch. "Yeah. I missed you."

The two of you have said the phrase at least a dozen times by now—and yet, still, the meaning of it isn't diminished in even the slightest. You missed this. And he missed this more than you could ever even know. So many nights of him staying up late, imagining you pressed up against him. Imagining himself between your thighs.. hands pressed under his pants, eyes screwed shut as he reminisced on the sounds that you'd make.

Leon can't wait anymore.

He's toyed with you enough. Propping himself on his knees, slotted between your legs, he begins to pull at his belt buckle. Your breath is shallow, paused even as you watch him unzip his pants. He uses one hand, tugging on the button as the other reaches for you. Leon's fingertips ghost along the curve of your body, feeling along the swell of your hip, reaching to the indent of your waist. His hand presses into your chest, feeling the flesh below him—his fingertips pinching your nipple and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"Leon—" The sound of his belt and pants crumpling to the floor cut you off. You tremble beneath him, body taut and awaiting his touch. The tips of Leon's ears are pink as he wraps his hand around his shaft, breathing labored as his thumb swipes over the slit of his head—collecting the precum that very freely seeps in need for you.

It's big. Like the rest of him. Big enough that each time you two have sex, he has to press inside you slowly, slow enough so that you could adjust to the size. Still, despite this, he splits you open each time.

He lines himself up. Your thighs wrap around Leon's hips, hands perched on his arm that rests on your own. The blunt tip of his cock presses against you, smearing his precum as your back instinctively arches again upon feeling his touch. Leon's breath is very, very audibly labored.

"You okay?" The worry in his tone is evident as his cock spreads you open, slowly but surely slipping into you. Inch by inch. One hand grips onto the skin of your hip, keeping you in place as his swollen cock splits you open. You can't respond, of course. The way that he bullies his way inside of you leaves you all but breathless, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in the skin of his forearm. All you can do is nod.

"Good," his eyes on you are full of nothing less than pure adoration, his voice raspy and low and full of desire. "You feel so good already."

You're caged between Leon and the bed. The scent of aftershave and his cologne engulfs you just as much as his body around you does, his lips hovering over yours ever so often as he whispers praises in your ear and tells you just how sweet you look under him and how well you take his cock. It's not long before he's fully sheathed inside of you, the imprint of his cock shaping your insides and filling you completely.

"You feel—" Leon sheathes the rest of his cock inside of you, the last couple inches pulling a drawn out whine from you as you take all of him. A groan escapes Leon's lips, his head hanging low for a few moments as he steadies himself and struggles to adjust to just how good and warm you feel wrapped around him. In the moment of respite, his hands roam up and down your body, dedicating the shape and the curve to his memory as he elicits whimpers from you by rolling the peaks of your nipples between his two fingers.

"Leon... please." He slides his length out of you slowly, a sigh to his voice that compliments the whine you let out at the overwhelming feeling of him slipping in and out of you slowly. He craves this; craves the feeling of you under him, the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him, the touch of your lips on his own. His obsession with you encompasses his thoughts every second.

"You're too good to me..." Rasp lines his voice as he looks at you underneath him. The way your hair is a mess, the expression of your face as he presses his cock back inside of you. The sight of your body, bare, for him. And only him. It's hard not to get lost in the feeling of you. The slow pace Leon sets only quickens with each passing moment, his hips snapping against your own as he makes a conscious effort to pull out all the way each time to slam his hips back and press inside of you.

The feeling is unrivaled; the sight of this handsome man—your boyfriend—sighing and groaning on top of you at the feeling of you around him. The way that he's splitting you open—his hips brutally pounding into you with all of the strength that he can muster.

Leon hungrily watches you. He watches the way your eyebrows are raised, the way your eyes roll towards the back of your skull with each particularly hard thrust inside of you. Watches the way your body ripples with each pounding of his cock into you. The way you look up at him, your expression so fucked out and pretty... it takes everything in him to not cum right then and there.

"C—can't—feels too good, Leon—" Your whines and moans come out in unintelligible babbles as the skin slapping sound reverberates in the small walls of your bedroom. Leon doesn't stop—he can't stop, even. The groans from his throat are low are raspy, each one sending a throb of need throughout your body.

"Fuck," His hands pull at your hips, lifting the bottom half of your body up slightly to better angle his cock as it slams into you. "Feel so fucking good. Needed this." The headboard slams against the wall with each thrust of his hips, the springs of your boxboard even creaking as he fucks you into the mattress. Leon is rough.

But you like it.

You like the underlying tender current in his movements, long for the way his hands pull as you and maneuver you as if you weigh nothing. You like the way you can hear the squelching sounds as he pounds into you. You're sure that he's going to leave little finger-pad shaped bruises on your hips by the time that he's done with you—not that you're actively thinking of it; too busy focusing on the mind-numbing pleasure that your boyfriend gives you as he fucks you harder than he ever has before. It'll be a reminder of the night you've shared together.

The pleasure is too much. It's all-encompassing, making your toes curl as Leon's eyes screw shut in response—head hanging low as he struggles to keep whatever semblance of control that he has left. It always seems to escape him when he's with you. Especially when he's with you like this: buried inside of you, making you remember who you belong to, and pulling those pretty noises out of your mouth that he touches himself to every night he's not with you.

Leon's memorized your body by now. He has to, to survive every night he spends away from you. Every crevice, curve, and every motion that you make. From the way your back is arching, the way that your hands claw at his own—leaving angry red marks—it's clear that you're close. The way that you squeeze around him, leak around him... it's obvious.

"Gonna cum in you," he states, doesn't say—doesn't ask, he tells. "And you're gonna take it all." There's nothing you can do but take it. He leaves wet, sloppy kisses all down your neck—drawing back for a moment to place another right on your lips. He swallows up your whines, the noises muffled by his lips spurring him onward. His hips twitch, and stutter—but he keeps the pace. Leon wants to show you how much he loves you, remember?

His hips drive into you, burying his shaft to the hilt inside of you every time. It's almost like a game to him—fucking you as hard as he can—the prize being the sounds you make each time he impales you with his cock. You grip at his hands, pulling on them—pulling on his arms, the sheets below you—anything. Anything to ground you.

He doesn't stop. Even as you're whining his name, babbling about how you're gonna cum, even as you're arching and shaking under him as you cum around him—hard. Your hands and fingers are nothing to the feeling of being filled by him. Leon fucks you through your orgasm, his own voice shaky as he talks you through it. Telling you how beautiful you are. How well you take him. Telling you to keep squeezing his cock like that, because he's so close.

Leon's hips sputter and twitch, his pace faltering as he groans—deep and raspy—his balls squeezing as he empties himself inside of you. He presses his hips into you still, buried to the hilt so that not even a modicum of space separates him from you. Thick, hot ropes of his cum spurt inside of you. You can even feel him shaking from the intensity of his orgasm.

Still buried inside of you, Leon leans down, pressing his body on top of yours as he seeks out your warmth and the comfort of your arms wrapped around him. He almost doesn't want to pull out—and in another act of selfishness, he decides to linger in you for just a few moments. You don't stop him.

A comfortable silence befalls the room. Save for the sounds of your breathing, the room is quiet. It takes a few moments of riding out the aftershocks and gaining your conscience back (since he did fuck it out of you) for you to speak.

"I don't want you to leave." Leon knows that you're always sappy after sex. It's why he spends extra time cuddling you. Reminding you that you're the only one for him. That only you make him feel so much love. Your hands hug him tighter, bringing him even closer down on to you.

"Not leaving." He mutters, voice slightly muffled as his face is buried in the crook of your neck.

That's all you needed to hear.

[enchantedflameandflower]

Perhaps you could write something? It’s my birthday and everyone seems to have forgotten. Maybe you could write Billy finding out it’s the readers birthday coming up and she’s crying because she doesn’t have family or friends and she’s alone, so be make sure she has a great day. (Fluff or smut, idk)

Yes! Happy belated birthday!!! I really wanted to get this ask out before everything else I’m working on because I know this feeling and it totally sucks. Billy would absolutely kiss it all better. Hope you all enjoy! (And happy birthday again anon! Thank you so much for the ask!)

Billy x you

You’d made it to nearly 7pm before the first tear finally slipped down your cheek, leaving a cold, wet trail in its wake.

Fuck it. You were proud of yourself for making it this long. You didn’t even bother to wipe it away. Another birthday, come and almost gone, without even a text. Yeah you had a few friends but it wasn’t worth it to truly open up to anyone anymore. Not really. But the older you got the harder it was to spend another birthday alone.

You were just about to go for the cheap liquor in the cabinet so you could take a sleeping pill and just drink until you passed out when there was a knock at your door. You almost thought of just ignoring it but what the fuck. You didn’t even care at this point if you were murdered by some psycho.

You opened the door and nearly dropped the bottle of vodka from the surprise. It was definitely a crazy person but not one that was going to kill you. At least not on purpose.

“Billy…” you managed to stammer out. “Uh…what…”

You’d been helping him out for awhile now when he needed information, you’d let him buy you a few drinks in payment now and again and you’d had the hottest fucking make out session at his office late one night a few weeks ago - until you’d been interrupted and decided it was probably for the best. He’d never come by your place before though and you knew it was ridiculous to be surprised he knew where you lived.

“Can a poor bloke come in, or ya gonna make me get on my knees and beg, doll?” he grinned.

Your stomach flip flopped wildly but you stepped aside, still at a loss for words, and - you couldn’t help it - quite intrigued.

“What are you…?”

“Came by to take ya out. Ya want to change? Nothin’ fancy or anythin’, just a dive I like down the street.”

“Take me out?” God you sounded so stupid but it’d been an awful day and you just couldn’t process anything and all of a sudden he looked so fucking good standing in your living room, and even though it was for the best you could not help thinking about all the dirty thoughts you’d had about him since that night. All of them included him naked and ravaging you, making you come until you couldn’t move anymore.

He grinned then, his dimple showing, and you wondered if he could tell what you were thinking. “Happy Birthday, doll. I meant to be here sooner but I got stuck with work.”

“How do you know when my birthday is?” you asked, shocked and looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Ya said somethin’ about no one callin’ you last year and I didn’t know if ya had anyone else this year either. Ya shouldn’t have to be alone if ya don’t want. And I’ve wanted to take ya out anyway.”

Tears stung at the back of your eyes again, this was almost impossible to believe, but you took a breath and pushed them down. “Yeah,” you smiled up at him. “I’ll change, it’ll just be a minute.”

~*~*~

You threw on your favorite pair of jeans, some boots and a nice tank top and Billy took your hand as he led you down the street. It was a dark, weathered looking bar but you didn’t mind. He sat you down in a booth in the back corner and went to the bar to order. “They have the best chips…er, fries,” he amended as he sat down across from you. “Loaded, you’ll love ‘em.”

One of the waiters brought the plate of loaded fries over along with two drinks. Billy ordered your favorite and you felt all your depression over this stupid day start to melt away.

“Thank you,” you murmured taking a drink and humming. It was good.

“Aw it’s nothin’,” he waved his hand in the air. But you could tell he knew how much this meant to you.

The fries were even better. You’d barely eaten all day and they were amazing. When you moaned out lout at how good they were, licking your fingers, he gave you a cheeky, knowing grin, clearly pleased with himself. You knew exactly what he was thinking and it felt really fucking good. God, you needed this.

The two of you shared the fries and just talked about everything. You made a joke about some ridiculous C-level supe and he laughed out loud, a deep rich, sound with a real smile. The whole thing nearly made you climb on his lap right there in front of everyone. You remembered exactly how he had felt when he’d kissed you weeks ago, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you against his swelling cock, his tongue plundering your mouth while his beard rubbed against your sensitive skin. Fuck you wanted him so badly.

The bar wasn’t too crowded but there was a group of girls at a table in the middle, laughing and having a good time. At one point some old rock song came on the jukebox and they got up, dancing around. You couldn’t help smiling, watching them. You hadn’t done anything like that in forever. Maybe sometimes it was worth it to get out, just let go and have fun.

Billy was watching you while you watched them and you caught his gaze as you turned back. There was a glint in his dark hazel eyes and it made your stomach flutter hotly. It was the first time you let yourself believe maybe there was more to this than him just being nice because he felt he had to.

At some point you got up to go to the restroom and when you returned, Billy had fresh drinks. He scooted against the wall as he watched you walk toward him. His gaze slid over you, head to toe then he was nodding for you to sit beside him instead of on the other side of the table.

You eagerly slide into the booth, pressing against his side as he lifted his arm for you to cuddle up close.

“You’re too good for me, love. But I’m starting to think I don’t give a fuck.”

You hummed happily and took a long drink of your alcohol. It was just enough to lighten your mood and make you just a bit tipsy, not too much.

His warm fingers brushed over your arm, his thumb rubbing your shoulder and you let you own hand fall to thigh under the table. It was firm and hot and you must have made some kind of stupid sound because the next you knew Billy gave a low chuckle.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” you murmured softly. You truly had not felt this good in a very long time “I never - Just thanks. I owe you one.”

You felt Billy lean over to kiss the top of your head. “Ya don’t owe me nothin’, love, though if you have somethin’ in mind, I certainly won’t argue…” His voice had dipped a little low and a shiver went through you at the implication.

One more big gulp and you were finished with your drink. “Walk me home?” you asked, turning to look up at him.

The look on his face said it all.

This time he had his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his body as he walked you back.

When you paused to unlock the front door of the building, he rubbed his hand back and forth over your hip and you fumbled the key twice before you got it in.

By the time you got to your own door you were almost shaking, you were aching for him so badly. And fuck, he seemed to know exactly what was happening because he spun you around before you could even try and get the key in again.

His eyes were dark and full of heated desire and you moaned out loud as he wound his strong arms around you and pulled you against him.

“Do ya want me to stay?” His big hand was sliding down and groping your ass, pulling you up and into him before he’d even finished the question.

“Fuck yes, Billy…” You were so hot and slick for him already you wouldn’t care if he took you right here in the hallway and you’d already decided this was absolutely the best birthday you’d ever had.

~*~*~

I didn’t want it to get crazy long but if y’all want a part two of birthday night with Billy I would looooove to write it, I have a bunch of ideas, let me know!

If you have also put in requests or are waiting for the next part to glimmer please know I will ABSOLUTELY write your request as soon as I’m able. I LOVE all the requests I’ve gotten so much! For my long Billy fic, I am very close to being done with the next part! ❤️ (OH MY GOSH I JUST REMEMBERED WHAT THAT CRAZY UNEXPLAINED NOTE IN MY BILLY NOTES WAS FOR WOOOOOO)

karl urban masterlist

[lynnlovesspidahman]

happy birthday.

peter parker x reader

masterlist.

warnings : none :))

word count : 1.2k

summary : peter’s not easy to shop for, so you settle for a gift money cant buy. happy birthday peter parker 😏

again, i just love ps4 peter so he was in mind while writing this. but you can imagine any of them!!

Peter’s birthday was in 3 days.

You’ve been dating for a little over 5 months, now. You wanted him to feel special for his birthday, considering everything he’s done for you over the course of your relationship.

But he’s such a hard person to shop for. You’ve been wandering around Target for what feels like ages now.

At first, new cologne seemed like a good idea. But, you already prefer the one he already uses (and you have no clue which one that is, you can’t exactly just ask him now).

The next best was new clothes. And they did have nice pairs of the flannel shirts he always seems to wear (He looked delicious every time, you couldn’t argue with that). You looked through the hangers, picked out the best looking ones, and threw them into your cart.

So now you have is a few shirts, cool. But still not enough. So you ran through a couple of gifts you thought he would appreciate. Scratch that, he has to love it, not just appreciate it.

Flowers? No, he can’t take care of them properly.

Skin care? No, he’s told you before he can’t be bothered, he literally uses just water. And yet his skin remains clear.

Shower stuff? Might give the wrong message.

Candy? Too basic.

New furniture for his ever so bland apartment? Too much money.

Gift card to his favorite restaurant? That could work, but it probably would end up being used immediately. By you.

Nothing seemed to work for him. You paid for the three shirts you picked out and left.

You were walking down the street, still trying to think of something to get him.

Your phone rang in your pocket. You put the plastic bag in your left hand as you reached for your phone with your right.

You smiled, admiring Peter’s contact photo as it lit up your screen, he was calling you. The photo was from a date 2 months ago.

He took you on a walk through Central Park, which was beautiful during the summertime.

The trees were beautifully green, and the weather was perfectly warm. He wore a black cap that day, which he rarely did.

As you two sat on a bench together, his arm sat behind you on the back of the bench. You couldn’t stop looking over at him as he spoke to you. Needless to say, he was very easy on the eyes that day. You took your phone out to take a photo. You raised it to your side to capture you both, and as soon as he realized you were taking a photo, he gave a thumbs-up and gave a little smirk smile to the camera. That picture has been your favorite of you two since then.

In that moment, you realized you were so in love with him. But you didn’t tell him. It still felt too early. And you weren’t exactly confident in the I-love-you-return. So you kept it to yourself, to this day.

Before it could go to voicemail from you accidentally staring at his contact photo, you answered his call.

“Hi!”

“Hi, Peter,” You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling too much.

“Whatcha up to?”

“Nothing, just finished shopping at Target, I was bored.”

“Oh, okay. Are you busy?”

You checked the time, 2:43 PM.

“No, why?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out at my place, for a bit.”

“Duh. I just gotta head back home and do get my stuff.”

“Okay! Just tell me when you’re on your way.”

“I will, See ya later, L-“ It was a habit for you to say that when ending a call and you almost did to Peter. Good catch, Y/N.

“See ya.”

You hung up the call, letting out the breath you were holding during the last second of the call. You almost fucked up, bad.

But would it have been so bad?

Peter’s birthday is today. Still, all you’ve gotten him is those three shirts.

You feel so shitty. So you quickly came up with a plan.

You would take him out to brunch, walk in central park, and sit on that same bench, and maybe maybe maybe tell him you love him?

Which is a horrible fucking birthday present especially if he doesn’t feel the same way and has to let you down easily. But, you want to let him know he’s important to you and no gift was able to speak that for you.

What’s there to lose to just say it to him?

Everything. You could lose everything you’ve built with him. Don’t say it, Y/N.

“Hey, Peter?” You turned your body to face him, you two were sitting in the exact bench.

“Hm?” He looked over at you, his eyebrows raised.

He was wearing the new blue flannel you bought him. You washed it for him the other day and gave it to him during brunch. Immediately he had put one on (your favorite that you picked out) and has been wearing it all day.

“I wanna tell you something,” No going back, do it. You have to.

“Okay.. What’s up?” His whole body was now facing you. All of his attention on you.

“I just- we’ve been together for five months now. Which is a long time with somebody, at least to me. And you’ve become such an important person in my life and being around you has become so routine that I can’t imagine any of my free time being spent without you.”

He slowly nodded, looking confused.

“I should’ve told you this months ago, but I didn’t. I was too nervous to tell you before, and it’s really not a good time to tell you — especially on your birthday — but I can’t keep it a secret anymore-”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?! Peter, no. Quite the opposite actually,” You joked, he didn’t know what you meant though.

“Oh, phew. I got really scared. You got all serious and then you started saying it wasn’t a good thing to tell me on my birthday-”

“I love you.” You blurted, interrupting his rambling.

He just stared at you, mouth still agape from him talking.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You started to gather your things and about to stand up and leave.

“Wait. Do you? Like actually?” He gripped your wrist, stopping you.

“Yeah,” You turned your head away from him, feeling a blush creep on your face. This was embarrassing.

“I- I love you, too.” He stood up, and positioned his thumb under your jaw to turn your head towards him.

“Wha-”

“I love you.” He repeated himself, this time he was looking into your eyes.

You both leaned in, simultaneously.

“I said it first, but I love you too.” You pulled him by his collar and pressed your lips onto his.

After a moment, you felt him smile against your lips.

“What?” You asked, giggling as you opened your eyes to look at him.

“You love me,” He teased, tickling your sides.

“Don’t get cheesy.”

“No promises,” He laughed, leaning into another kiss.

“Happy birthday, Pete.”

hehehe. okay fr tho it is actually peter parker’s birthday today and i needed to make something. this was lowkey half-assed but i kinda like it so i’m just gonna post it 🥲🥲

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!! 💓

[lotusarchon]

As I have the app around, I may as well just dive into this before disappearing again. To the people in my post a few days prior and in my dms, I promise I'm not ignoring any of you, but I genuinely can't muster the energy to speak to anyone else currently. I'm only here currently because someone found my unmentioned hetalia account, which I left unmentioned for a reason...you know who you are...you scared me...😭

Ah, okay well. If you're not aware of who I am, hi. I'm a dude that wrote fanfiction for this fandom I got pulled into. A year ago I had a few different accounts but I had to delete every single one just because I kept getting harassed, from one thing to another. I'm hoping I don't have to do it again this time around.

I haven't gone offline as anyone thought. I did attempt to take my life (twice, 2024 is something else) but in the end it didn't work out, so I've been hiding in my secret account to relax in hetalia for a bit. In between that I've also been stalking the account myself since it showed up just to see what it was up to, and...oh wow that's a lot.

This specific account has been on my ass like a tick since..two days ago. Two days of my 'supposed' death.

I've also recently found out that someone else who was pretending to be a friend of my friend's and a concerned citizen happened to be friends with them;

And hence why I chose not to reemerge my head back then yet. It turns out there's a few people who may have been following me who are acquainted with these people and...yeah, I didn't want to take the risk. I'm hoping no one is going to inform them I'm not actually dead―I blocked both accounts to avoid being noticed.

There's a lot of yapping I'm gonna be doing so expect a lot of that, BUT piece of advice to anyone that actually cares: do not engage with either blog. Don't send them hate mail, don't go gloating that I'm not actually dead, and don't fucking yap about anything. These blogs went as far as to harass my friends who have no part in this, and they also wrote nsfw of my adult oc and my friend who is a fucking minor. Do. Not. Engage. With. Them. Please!! Block, block, block. Just block them! They're actively going out of their way to harass and stalk MINORS.

Under the cut, I am rambling more on personal feelings rather than doing this professionally. I'm still pretty moody actually and well yeah...

Trigger Warning for some topics below!

Okay uh. I've never done this before so excuse me while I put this in question format lmfao..

"Why aren't you dead!?"

Joke answer; god doesn't want me.

Long answer: I'm not the type of person who says something like that ...like that. I really was intending to go through with it, but evidently I was too tired from crying and fell asleep. I figured that I couldn't handle people fucking around with me and hid in my secret blog. Hetalia fandom is so nice for a fandom about countries. Point blank sorry to burst many of your bubbles, but I'm not dead yet. Put the birthday canon away, slut. I'll die next season.

"What the fuck did you even do?"

Exist.

No okay, realistically it's a lot. I'm not going to play the victim here's and I'm not going to lie to people and say "oh hey my mental illness/trauma made me do that" because that's bullshit. I'm also not diving too deep into any explanations just because my hands hurt..but also I don't want to remember anything less I have another panic attack.

A year ago I met this girl who became my friend over a fandom. We chatted, but I fucked our friendship up when I lashed out at her and another friend wrongfully because of my own stress. While I did beg one of them to stay, the chick that runs kokomichanstuff, Mariin, I ended the friendship with her just because I knew what I did was bad. There really aren't any excuses for that. I don't think anyone should have to deal with anyone else's bad attitude regardless of mental health or not. I didn't bother to keep Mariin around because I did bad, and no amount of apologies would fix it. She already said she wouldn't forgive me, so I knew it made no sense to keep up a facade. I genuinely had no idea she would've been mad that I begged one person to stay but not her, even though she expressed not wanting to be my friend. I also don't remember truly if what I did was enough to earn THIS type of harassement, but I'll take it as divine punishment. But basically, over and over again Mariin has stalked me and found a way to harass me. According to the posts she made, she's made a new friend I (sadly) hurt who wants..revenge. Hooray.

Mariin's already namedropped them so um, yeah, I hope it's okay to mention them?? . Neveah was someone I also hurt really badly by bullying and lashing out at her out of jealousy over something ridiculously dumb in my old server and account. I confronted her later on apologizing but specifically also adding that she didn't need to forgive me because I messed up. Long story short, she claimed she had forgiven me.... but then went to her friends (Mariin mentioned) Geno, Toga etc to badmouth me, including sharing sensitive information I sent to her. Neveah's friend Geno made a post mocking me which I found and responded poorly too, and then more drama escalated from there because literally every single one of Neveah and Geno's friends came to bombard me, sent me hate mail and surprise, Mariin took the chance to come back. I don't know how the fuck those two (Mariin and Neveah) managed to speak, but sometime later a few accounts appeared that went after people who were once associated with me or used to be associated with me. A few days ago the account made supposedly by Neveah made a post accusing me of being a r*pist, groomer and pedophile and yeah. That went badly.

Uh. Wow this is a mouthful. But. Yeah, I'm...not really a good person, and these things are just embarrassing and..ick. I hate myself for the shit I pull. But, I will say, while I can accept Mariin harassing me like this, the other parties just...genuinely could've handled this better than what they did to me. It really wouldn't have been so hard to ask me instead of listening to one side, but maybe that's me. Regardless, I admit I was wrong. I just..I'm not happy other people are getting involved.

"Why didn't you just say something sooner instead of all that nonsense? Wasn't that too dramatic?"

Sadly it was, but I don't think any of you understand when I say that I CAN'T. I can't say anything because it's just me, me, me. It's just me, and people aren't going to believe me. They never do. When that shitshow happened with Neveah, everyone was blaming me. Even up till recently, someone in my current server told me I was the one who overreacted over getting bullied and harassed. I'm not mentioning them here but holy fuck, that shit hurt. The anons coming in my inboxes telling me "people are offering you advice and you don't want it", it fucking hurts. It genuinely hurts because every single time I try to speak up against anything, or stand up for myself, I'm the one who's in the wrong.

Geno, Neveah, Mariin, fucking Toga and Deja and the entire fucking crew. They're never the ones who get wronged, and they haven't lost anything. Even when Mariin's account gets deleted, she's fine. She has people that actually fucking listens to her, all of them do.

I don't. There's no one aside from the few friends I have who would actually listen to me and not just immediately jump at me, and I'd rather just not have them involved in anymore drama that revolves around me.

Yeah, holy shit, maybe attempting to kill myself from the stress was overbearing but you guys have no fucking idea what it's like. Every time, every time I make a report or say something, I'm the one who's told I'm at fault. It's either, "You're don't look like a child, it's not their fault they want to touch you," or, "You overreacted," or, "Maybe you shouldn't have said anything," or even, "You're so ungrateful, I'm trying to help you."

It. fucking. Sucks. It. SUCKS. Its terrifying that regardless if it's my real life or on the internet, no one listens, no one cares and the one who's left hurting is Ali because who fucking cares. Who gives a shit right?

"....did you try to kill yourself over Nezha?"

Everything started with Nezha, and I'm not even fucking kidding. I don't remember how I met Mariin but I knew for a fact it was something about him. And when we broke our friendship off, I got attacked a LOT about his age. I want to pretend that maybe it was all Mariin, but with how things are, I don't doubt for a second this fucking fandom were jumping me for a character who already has a confirmed age.

I could tell you that I was just stressed about Mariin, but that'd be a lie. Everywhere I go with this fandom, I'm always getting hassled about Nezha's age. From the beginning I was already stressed, because I continuously kept getting anon after anon calling me names and accusations for a fictional fucking character.

I don't deny that Mariin didn't have a part to play. She most definitely made things worst for me with using Nezha to slander me further. It's just my luck that the people in this fandom are idiots that'll listen to anything anyone says.

Think of it this way; the pot was near burning on the stove, it just needed some more fuel.

"Why didn't you just listen to the anons?"

Sighs

Mind you, this was supposedly when I was DEAD. Trust me, I've had far worst flooding my inboxes. Before it was about Nezha's age. Recently, it was to kill myself and the accusations.

I'm not saying the advice was ever bad. But the anons were strangers for all I care who had no idea what the fuck was happening. I've tried blocking anons before, I also went to far lengths to ignore them, but there's only so much I can take. Every day, day in day out on any blog I've made, ever since I started writing for Nezha, I've been receiving dozens and dozens of hate I've had to delete constantly. Not even counting the ones that just randomly told me to die!!

"just ignore them" I'm not a child. I. know. I know, I know, I've been trying, but when people don't respect my boundaries and don't even bother to listen when I say I've done it, how do you think I'm going to feel?

"oh but you should put that as your trigger then it's not their fault" oh yeah, "hey everyone 🥺 when people don't listen to me I cry". How do you think it'll sound? Plus, why should I need to add that when I wasn't expecting anyone to actually act like this on the internet to begin with?!

"Why don't you just move to a different platform then if the hate is that bad?"

Ignoring Mariin for a bit, even if I were to go into another platform to write fanfiction (and I highly doubt there's many I'll feel comfortable in), why should I, and what makes you think the hate will stop there?

AO3 is a place where THE worst people write porn. And you wouldn't believe that I've had to delete quite a number of assholes on there for Nezha's age. Don't mention Twitter where the nonsense started about his age, and don't bring in bluesky because there's a word limit and I'm not limiting myself to that. Even Wattpad has them yelling about Nezha's age. WATTPAD!! Genuinely what makes you think I'll be safe anywhere I go?

I hate Tumblr but this account is my safe space from reality at this point. It used to be the place that made me not want to die. Just because you guys are jerks, why should I need to go?

This also goes back to Mariin and the harassers. Even in my fake death I can't know peace. If I were to move out, wouldn't she get to live her life peacefully while I'm miserable trying to understand a place I don't want to be in?

"Then just leave the LMK fandom!"

Again, why should I? LMK is my comfort show. I genuinely enjoy writing for silly legos, and I also love learning about things I didn't know about before. Why should I have to leave just because the fandom is filled with jerks? Why don't you guys just leave instead if you're butthurt about anyone daring to speak an opinion?

"The accusations-!"

Are lies.

I was r*ped before. Why would I find any pleasure r*ping anyone else? How does one even do that through online?

I was groomed online and assaulted in real life. Why would I think of hurting another human being, most less a child, like that when I still can't even read anything that correlates to it? Why would I find any of those things pleasing?

I turned 18 in 2024. It's not an excuse and I've been doing my best to not interact with minors, or at the very least avoid speaking about topics that are inappropriate for them. Even though I still forget I'm an adult on occasion, I know better than to pull up on my younger friends and start talking about nsfw. I've only ever spoken weirdly to my adult friends.

I recently saw someone comment on the account that I'm Islamphobic/don't support Palestine, so that makes me problematic. I grew up in an Islamic family, I have trauma with that specific religion (inclu. Hinduism and Christianity, long story). I don't interact with anything regarding religion if I can and I also don't judge someone based on their religion. I judge you based on how you speak to me. If you have a weird icon, I don't like you, if you speak weirdly, I don't like you. Additionally, I'm the type of person who feels guilty for making someone upset. I can't support myself, most less for others. No, I don't agree with genocide but it's genuinely too much for me to keep up with.

And finally, how the fuck is liking a character who's an adult make me a proshipper? Jesus Christ again with Nezha. I hate this.

"You have no proof!"

Of course I don't. I don't keep bad memories around. I wouldn't have remembered my own childhood if I didn't get triggered about it. I block bad memories out. Many interactions I've had that are bad, I delete. I don't think about saving, I delete.

Even interactions with friends I usually delete because it's just weird not seeing a blank space. I don't hate them but leaving a spot full feels weird.

I don't have any proof I'm none of the accusations but neither does Mariin, to be frank. So if you chose to believe her because you just genuinely don't like me, good for you, but you look like sheep being led by a drunk shepherd. Either you'll end up in a slaughterhouse and starve, your pick.

I'm not going to say, "Oh ask my minor friends!" Because...they're kids. I feel horrible my friend got roped into this to begin with, the last thing I want is for anyone else be involved when they barely know shit.

Yeah, rambled a bit. I didn't want too but I got carried away, whoops.

This is the only post I want to make about this issue. Don't bring it up, don't uhh, don't mention me to the account, and please just allow me to rest in peace. I just want to write and feel free, not deal with this shit, okay?

Also. Please stop involving my friends into beef you have with me. It's really not their fault they have to deal with someone like me.

Goodbye. I'm deleting the app again until I return. Adios

[garbinge]

That One Christmas Without Carmy

Michael "Mikey" Berzatto & Platonic!F!Reader

30 Day Fic Challenge (22/30)

Word Count: 2k A/N: A little flashback with Mikey.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of abuse, angst, sadness, depression. Other fics from this universe The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x @adorable-punk-superheroes @lodeddiperrodrick @isalver @captainweasleybarnes @musicwithteeth @fancyvoidtragedy @shinebright2000 @knight4xmas @gills-lounge @navs-bhat @cosmicak @kmc1989

It was the one Christmas Carmy didn’t come home. With how things were with him, you weren’t shocked. He barely answered your texts, you talked for two minutes every few months. Things were just different, you knew he was distancing himself. It took some time but you put the pieces together as to why and weren’t going to force him into anything. 

You walked into the house, apple cider in your hand, something you did every year you came. Sugar hated that Donna drank herself a mess every holiday, which made bringing alcohol feel wrong, not to mention when you started coming over for these events as an adult, you were still under the legal drinking age and you knew food was off limits when Donna was cooking the 7 fishes. So apple cider it was. 

Not bothering to engage in whatever conversation was happening in the living room, you moved throughout the house looking for a quiet corner to just collect your thoughts. Life had been pretty rocky lately, you just moved back not that long ago and you still felt like you were trying to get your footing from being in Indiana with the jackass that was your ex. You weren’t sure what life held for you, but the pressure alone was enough to weigh you down. 

You let out the deepest sigh as you collapsed your back on the wall next to the pantry where Mikey was standing, the only quiet corner of the house that wasn’t the bathroom which was currently being hot boxed by the Faks. 

He let out a chuckle and a head shake, letting his long hair fall all crazy around him. 

“Just need a minute.” You stared at the ceiling. 

“Feel that.” Mikey was now staring up at the ceiling with you. “Sorry about the craziness.” 

“Ironically, Mikey, this is the most stable environment I’ve been in.” 

“You know that’s fucked, right?” He looked over at you with a smile. 

“Beats sitting in an empty house waiting for a santa that never comes.” You remembered the one Christmas in middle school where your dad told you he was going to visit Santa and to stay in the living room and he’d be back with gifts, he didn’t show back up for 3 days, and all he had in his hand was a public indecency ticket and a 6-pack. “I don’t think you get how much this shit means to me Mikey. You, Sug, Carm, shit, even Richie. You guys saved me, Donna being well,” you pointed to the kitchen as a way to replace any verb that just felt completely underwhelming in comparison of the action, “it’s something I’d happily deal with just to have your guys company.” 

“We love you, kid.” He grabbed your shoulder, staring at you. 

After a moment of silence, you spoke up. 

“You talk to him lately?” 

“No.” He answered quickly. “You?” He was now staring down at the floor, waiting for an answer.

“Not really. Maybe a month ago. He actually called me once, wished me a happy half birthday.” You chuckled and looked over at Mikey who was making a weird face. “It’s like a tradition.” You started to explain since he looked very confused. “We’ve done it since we were kids.” You shrugged. “But other than that and a text to let me know he wasn’t coming home, he hasn’t answered my calls. Barely texts me back.” 

“You know last year, he was standing right there where you are, giving me shit ‘bout talking to Claire Bear for him.” He laughed at the memory while you rolled your eyes. “Jealous?” Mikey caught you and smirked. 

“Barely.” You huffed. “It’s just so crazy you guys can’t see it.” You shrugged and looked at Mikey who was giving you a look like ‘are you going to continue?’. It made you laugh but you obliged. “You’re gonna make fun of me and him for saying this, but Carm, he’s so delicate. He gets tipped off his scale so easily you gotta ease him into things. I bet you, you, Richie, and Fak bum rushed him about how hot she is, and how he needs to hit that and whatever. That shit throws him off, you gotta be smooth with it. When he’s here, he’s waiting for something to tip the scales, that's why it’s so easy to tip.” 

“It was cousin Steve, not Fak, but you’re not wrong, that is what happened.” He nodded, letting his hand rest on the frame across from him as his head dropped and his back was still against the other side of the frame. “It’s like you’re his best friend or some shit.” It was meant as a joke, a light hearted comment but it held a lot more weight for you.

“I don’t know about that anymore.” 

“What happened to you out in Indiana. Could tell shits been different for you since then.” Mikey continued the conversation, his leg now lightly kicking the door frame as a subconscious tik. 

“Some really fucked shit happened. After all of it, I went to see Carmy, could tell he was working really hard to separate himself from this, and I just so happen to be a part of this. I think I tip the scales.” 

“If it makes you feel better, I most definitely tip the fuckin’ Carmy scales.” Mikey laughed, looking back down at the ground. 

“You know, you’re like a brother to me, Mikey.” That comment brought his eyes back up to you, his head nodding and his hair flopping all over the place as he acknowledged you. 

“I love you like a sister, you know this, sometimes even more than Sugar, you don’t ask Ma if she’s okay 20 times a day.” He teased, a smile growing on his face. 

It was nice to see him smile, it was so rare these days it felt like. 

“Your moms scales are easily tipped, too. Probably where Carm gets it.” You were now walking past him in the door frame and sitting on the radiator box that was parallel to the stairs. “Guess I got my dad’s scales, untippable.” You shrugged as you jumped up. 

“Think I got mine’s too.” Mikey’s eyebrows raised, he shifted his positioning, so he was facing you since you moved, but quickly mimicked how he was standing before, back against the door frame, hand on the opposite side holding him up. “How is your Pops?” 

You laughed and shook your head. “It’s Christmas Eve so, drunk, probably in a casino.” 

“Some things don’t change.” His eyes were now connected to yours. 

“And yet I feel like I can’t recognize my life anymore.” Your legs began to kick back and forth slightly hitting the radiator beneath you.

“Well, a lot of things do change.” Mikey shrugged, a smile growing on his face at the irony of his statements. 

“Funny guy.” You smiled back. 

“Bear made me this drawing that Christmas. Told me about Copenhagen.” He let out a deep sigh. “I tipped the scale though.” 

“He just misses you, Mike. Wishes he was doing this with you.” It was spoken like it was so obvious and Mikey missed all the signs. 

“He told you that?” It was curious how he asked, like he knew all along, but there was some shit no one but him knew that prevented it all from happening. 

“No, but I know he told you that, he’s my best friend, I've known him since we were kids, I know what he’s thinking before he thinks it.” You spoke jokingly but obviously.

“It’s just a mess here.” Mikey wasn’t in the mood to joke about this and you could tell that immediately.

“But it’s home.” You spoke in the same seriousness.The doorbell rang and you looked at Mikey and quickly nodded your head to the right. “I’ll get it.” 

Mikey stayed leaning against the pantry’s door frame as you walked over to the front door. With a smile, you tossed open the door, expecting to see Pete or even one of the Fak’s since they always managed to lock themselves out every year but your heart dropped when you saw him. 

“Hey, I uh, called your dad, said I could probably find you here.” 

The last time you saw this man was when Richie was pointing a gun at him in the middle of The Beef which was last year. That added with the fact that he mentioned talking to your father, you barely got to talk to him and he can just call him up and he offers up your information like its nothing. The feeling of your heart dropping was quickly being replaced with rage bubbling in every part of your boddy, but your hands and arms specifically. 

“What the fuck do you want.” It must’ve been obvious you were getting angry because the man in front of you lifted his arms in a sense on innocence but you knew there was nothing innocent about him. 

“Was back in the area, missed you, I know how much you love the holidays, figured maybe we could go out, catch up, or not talk at all.” His eyebrows raised and as he was talking you definitely smelt the alcohol on his breath. 

“You should actually get the fuck out of here.” Your hand was firm on the door, despite them shaking, ready to slam it closed. 

The man took a step forward now, his begging mixed with a desire to show power. As his hand rested on the door he began to slightly push it open against yours.  “Don’t be like that, I always hated when you were like that, you’re too pretty to have an attitude that ugly.” 

Suddenly, the pushing on the door stopped and you felt a hand right above yours. Turning you saw Mikey standing behind you, taking all the weight of the door in his hand as he held firm with a deep frown on his face. 

“Pretty sure she told you to get the fuck outta here.” 

You weren’t sure if you were mortified or happy someone had your back right now. 

“I’m talkin’ to the lady, alright, don’t mean to be a bother, you don’t–you don’t gotta get involved.” It was said to be nonchalant but anyone could have read between the lines. 

“No, you’re not talkin’ to the lady.” In a way so opposite of his other hand, Mikey lightly touched your shoulder and smiled at you as he nodded behind him. Quickly he was taking your hand in his and moving you behind him. “C’mere sweetheart, stand right there.” He turned his attention back to the man at the door and hardened his face again. “You’re talkin’ to me. Who are you?” 

“I’m a friend.” He pointed to you and tried to peak past Mikey at you. 

“You ain’t shit. This is my house, my property, and she’s my friend. So I’m gonna need you to get the fuck out of here.” Mikey gripped the guy up with such ease, if it wasn’t for the flex of his muscles and the veins on his arms popping out, it wouldn’t have been obvious as to how hard his grip around this guys neck was. He tossed him down the stairs almost like a ragdoll, it helped that the man was in the bag drunk and had little to no reflexes readily available anymore. “If you ring this doorbell or do any other shit in or around this house, I’ll kill you.” With that the door was being slammed and he was turning to look at you. It broke him to see someone he saw as family so scared, your eyes were terrified still. 

He was tossing his arm over your shoulder and pushing you back through the kitchen and to the dining room where the chaos was. A sure way to keep your mind off everything. 

“Hey, c’mon now. Ignore that, let’s steal one of those cannolis, yea?” 

[suniix]

05 | miyamura x reader

synopsis | baking with miyamura makes you realize something you’d rather not think about. an unexpected encounter in the school hallway brings up an old memory

word count | 2k+

note | so sorry for taking so long to update 💀 im not really in the fandom anymore but i don’t wanna abandon this fic.. also i wrote most of this awhile ago so sorry if you notice a style change, once im done with this fic everything is going to be rewritten. i had some formatting issues with this chap so if it seems like a chunk of the chapter is missing pls let me know 😭 ALSO IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST PLS SEND AN ASK!! REPLIES GET LOST IN MY NOTIFS EASILY SO I MIGHT NOT SEE IT!!

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“Wait, did we need baking soda or baking powder?” You ask while holding the two small boxes in each hand.

Miyamura peeks over your shoulder. “Baking powder.” He says while plucking the box from your hand.

It was early in the afternoon when Miyamura stopped by your home to drop off some cinnamon rolls. A few weeks have passed since the first day of school and it was common for him to stop by after school or during the weekends, occasionally bringing sweets with him. When you opened the door the first thing he noticed was flour all over your hands and face. He quickly noticed the messy kitchen behind you and asked what happened while struggling to hold back a chuckle.

You explained that it was your grandma’s birthday today and you wanted to bake a cake for her and have it ready by the time she got back. One small problem though— you had no idea how to bake a cake.

“Thanks again for helping me out, and sorry you had to waste your Saturday doing this for me.” You say while gently cracking an egg, letting the yolk fall into the mixing bowl. You peer inside, noticing an eggshell had fallen in. Grabbing a spoon you scoop it out.

“It’s not a bother, really.” Miyamura shrugs. “I didn’t have any plans for today, so I’m glad I have something to do.”

You watch as Miyamura expertly cracks an egg open with one hand, letting the yolk fall in without any eggshells. “How do you do it? Each time I crack it open an eggshell always falls in.”

Miyamura chuckles. “It’s just practice, watch.” He grabs another egg and taps the side of the bowl with some force. Then with both hands he opens up the egg and out falls the yolk. “Now you try.”

Grabbing the last egg, you tap the side of the bowl with the egg and get it to crack. Holding it over the bowl with one hand, you look to Miyamura for guidance.

“First, grab the egg with both hands.” He gently grabs your other hand and brings it up to the egg. His hands are warm, the kind of warm that reminds you of being under your favorite blanket on a cold night. “Make sure one thumb is on the left side of the crack while the other is on the right side.”

You nod, placing your thumbs on both sides. “Now you just gently pull the egg apart, slowly.” He says, letting go of your hands.

You nod once again, gently pulling the egg apart as the yolk slips out without any eggshells falling in. “I did it!” You cheer, turning to face Miyamura.

He’s already staring at you with a genuine smile on his face. You don’t know why, but it makes your heart skip a beat. “I always knew you could. Now, the next step is to..”

You don’t process what his next words are, you’re too busy wondering why lately your cheeks heat up around Miyamura and how any sweet gesture he does for you makes your heart beat a little too fast. It’s been happening too often and you’re not sure how to feel about it. You snap out of your thoughts when he turns on the mixer, the noise echoing throughout the kitchen.

“Pass me the sugar please.”

Passing the sugar to him, you watch as he slowly adds sugar into the mixing bowl. “While I’m doing this you can get the flour mixture ready.” Miyamura looks up at you and you nod, quickly turning around to prepare it.

Miyamura had already set the flour in a bowl, all you needed to do was add the baking powder and salt. Looking at the recipe on your phone, you couldn’t find the measurements anywhere.

“Uh, Miyamura?”

“Yea?”

“I can’t find the measurements.”

“What?” He sets down the sugar, walking over to you and leaning over your shoulder to see your phone’s screen. “It doesn’t say?”

You shake your head, scrolling all the way to the bottom to find nothing. “That’s odd, try adding two and a half teaspoons of baking powder and one fourth teaspoon of salt.” He says before walking back over to the mixer.

You silently repeat the measurements in your head, trying not to forget. After adding the baking powder and salt you mix it in then bring the bowl over to Miyamura. “Alright, what’s next?” You ask.

“Add the flour into the bowl.” He says while patting the side of the mixing bowl.

“Alright!” You lift the bowl, tilting it so a good amount of flour would fall into the mixing bowl.

“But make sure to do it slowly, or else!—”

It was too late, you poured the flour in too quickly, resulting in the flour puffing up in your face because of the mixer. You look up at Miyamura, making him burst out laughing.

As soon as your grandma arrived home you rushed towards her and brought her to the kitchen to show her what you (and Miyamura) had made. Her eyes twinkled in surprise. “Goodness! I can’t believe you remembered!” She said in awe, walking up to the counter and examining the cake.

“I made sure to leave sticky notes everywhere to make sure I wouldn’t forget today!”

Your grandma walked over to you and brought you close, hugging you tightly. You immediately hugged her back, relishing in the warm embrace. How long has it been since you’ve been hugged like this?

“Thank you so much Y/n.” She whispered to you before pulling away. She turned to look at Miyamura before pulling him into a hug that surprised him. “And thank you as well young man, I can only imagine how cooking with my grandkid went.” She chuckled, which prompted a ‘hey!’ from you in response.

Miyamura couldn’t help but laugh as well. “It wasn’t a bother at all, Y/n is my friend and I don’t mind helping them.”

Your grandma nodded. “You’re such a kind young man, I hope Y/n finds someone like you in the future.”

You found yourself silently agreeing with your grandma. While Miyamura appears quiet and gloomy, he is actually really kind and caring. He’s patient, that much is certain after he helped you bake a cake, and he doesn’t get frustrated at you when you forget the simplest of things. Yeah, you wouldn’t mind dating— wait.

Once you fully processed her comment you let out an awkward chuckle. “Come on now, let’s eat!”

There’s no way you just thought about dating him.

Monday came a lot quicker than you’d like.

Sunday was uneventful, apart from you constantly thinking about your grandma's words from the previous day.

Scratch that, Sunday was the day your perspective on Miyamura changed.

You hadn’t thought about it much before, but why would you? You were content with just being friends, it was the whole reason you decided to stay with your grandma! To make friends!

But your grandma’s words left you thinking. You were happy to be his friend, truly, but was it okay to want more? To want to have something that was more than just friends?

Hugging your pillow you quickly shake your head. No! No way! You refused. I don’t like him that way! I don’t! You argued, squeezing your pillow tightly as if it were the one confronting you about your feelings.

Those words were meant for you and you alone, for no one was accusing you of liking him. There was no one to convince but yourself. You let out a sigh as you loosened the grip on the pillow, asking yourself the dreaded question.

Do I like Miyamura?

The immediate answer you thought of was yes, but you paused. Why do you like Miyamura? Was it simply because your grandma brought it up and you felt the need to make her happy, to show her you were happy with him just so she could be happy for you?

You thought of the moments you shared with Miyamura and had your answer. No, this was not because of a silly comment your grandma made. Your feelings were always there, deep down. You just never realized you wanted more until you realized you could have more.

Now what to do with your newfound feelings.

Should I just cut him off completely and hope my feelings die? You contemplated for a second before quickly shaking your head. Simply thinking about cutting contact with him hurts your heart, so there’s no way you’d actually be able to go through with it. No, be mature about this! There’s no need to do that! Just.. pretend our feelings don’t exist!

Despite your plan, sleep didn’t come easy. You spent the whole night thinking about scenarios that could happen on Monday. Maybe you walk into school and Miyamura somehow figured out you liked him and stops being friends with you, maybe he suddenly announces he’s dating Hori, maybe—

You quickly stop yourself. There was no need to overthink this, Miyamura doesn’t even know you like him! This conflict is completely one sided which means there is nothing to worry about— yet.

Before you knew it, Monday morning came and you had gotten absolutely no sleep. You sluggishly put on your clothes, wanting nothing more than to just crawl back to bed, but school was waiting for you. Miyamura was waiting for you.

You quickly shake your head to get rid of your thoughts. Running down the stairs you quickly spot the clock on the wall and notice the time. You were currently a few minutes ahead of schedule so you slowed your pace, taking your time to put on your shoes.

Ok, since I’m early, maybe I can surprise Miyamura at his door this time! You smiled at the thought. He had always been kind enough to wait for you to walk to school together, it’ll be nice to surprise him this time. Thinking about his possible reaction made you giggle, but you quickly stopped yourself. If anyone else were in the room with you they’d think you’d gone mad for laughing for no reason.

Leaving your home you make sure the door is locked before heading out. The morning air is crisp, making you wish you were back in your bed. It’ll be worth it though, seeing the surprised look on Miyamura’s face—

No! You shake your head. Gotta snap out of it! You walk up the stairs to his apartment door, footsteps echoing against the walls. You’re so lost in thought, trying to get your mind off your feelings when you bump into something, or rather, someone. You immediately jump back, ready to apologize when a voice cuts you off.

“Y/n?”

His voice was a bit deeper than usual, but you’d recognize his voice anywhere. You look up to see Miyamura, a surprised look on his face. You take a moment to recollect yourself, clearing your throat and standing up straighter. “I woke up early so I thought I’d surprise you by picking you up this time! But jeez, you left so early I didn’t even make it to your door before you left.” You explained.

He chuckles in response. “Well you got me, I’m surprised.”

He gestures to the stairs. “Since you technically got here first, lead the way.”

You don’t argue, happily going down the stairs first while Miyamura followed close behind. Once the two of you are out on the street you walk side by side, your shoulders occasionally brushing against each other.

Time goes by so fast that you sometimes wish it’d slow down.

It feels as though just a few minutes ago you had arrived at school with Miyamura, but now the school day had reached its end. It was relatively boring, except for the part where you couldn’t seem to act normal around Miyamura. He asked you a couple of times if you were feeling okay, even brushing his hand against your forehead to check your temperature (which did not help you at all). If your friends noticed they didn’t comment on it and for that you were grateful.

Forget your earlier thought, you’re glad time passed quickly.

The sun was low, painting the empty hallways a golden color. You were walking alongside Hori, helping her carry some files to put away in the student council’s room. Your shoes squeaked with each step you took, but neither of you seemed to mind. The silence around you and Hori was no longer tense, in fact, it was quite peaceful. Hori seemed content, as though whatever was bothering her before was resolved. The doors to the student council room come into view when Hori breaks the silence.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

You nod in response. “Of course! What is it?”

“Do you like Miyamura?”

The question catches you off guard, making you stop. Hori walks a few steps ahead before slowing her pace and stopping completely, keeping her back to you.

“What do you mean?” You’re not sure how else to respond. You had just barely found out you had feelings for Miyamura, so you’re not even sure if you’re ready for your friends to know yet.

She turned to face you. “You’ve been acting off today, and I don’t want to seem nosey, but.. I was just curious.”

You’re silent for a moment, still unsure as to how to respond. Hori takes that as an answer. “Listen, it’s okay if you—”

“I don’t.”

Hori shoots you a confused look. “You don’t?”

“I don’t.” You reaffirm, hoping she doesn’t notice the shake in your voice.

Hori simply stares at you before turning and continuing to walk. You let out a sigh of relief— you’re not sure if she bought your lie, but you’re at least happy she didn’t press you to tell the truth. You don’t think you’d be able to handle admitting it out loud.

Before Hori has the chance to open the door it slides open, revealing a guy with pink hair. “Oh, sorry.” His voice is so soft you almost don’t hear it as he steps aside for Hori to enter. She thanks him and enters the room to file away the papers and your eyes briefly meet his pink ones.

For a moment you remember something you’d thought you’d forgotten. Suddenly you’re six years old again, stretching out a hand to befriend a lonely boy.

Your eyes remain on his figure as he walks away, not noticing Hori was waiting for you to hand her the files until she taps your shoulder. “Oh! Sorry!” You hand her the files and she places them inside a cabinet before walking back out to the hallway with you.

“Hey Hori..”

“Mm?”

“Do you by any chance know the guy that was just in there?”

That question catches her attention and she looks at you confused before shrugging. “No, but I can probably find out.”

You shake your head. “No it’s alright, it’s just.. he seemed so familiar.”

thank you for reading till the end! :D

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[jangofettjamz]

The Birthday Boy

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Summary: You finally get to celebrate your birthday for the first time, and with the one you love.

Words: 1552

Y/N POV

Today is my birthday. I've never really celebrated it; family never really bothered. Now that I'm older it just seemed more insignificant. No one to celebrate it with, and let's be honest and no one wants to celebrate it on their own.

Jenna was out working, I never told her when my birthday was because I didn't want to interrupt her filming schedule, she's already got enough on her plate she doesn't need to worry about getting me gifts for my birthday she has a career to grow.

I've turned 20 today; Jenna turning 21soon. 20 years feel a bit surreal not gonna lie, crazy to think it's been that long since I was born. I try not dwell on that to much, it'll just send me spiralling.

I do wish I had a good birthday though, the feeling of being celebrating. I know this may sound narcissistic, but I always wanted to be celebrated, have a day just about me. I wanted to feel like everyone could come together and show support for me even if it was just for one day, I never had that kind of love growing up so I'd like to know what that's like, though I doubt it'll happen.

My father never paid any attention to me growing up, saying I was too much of a hassle to put up with. You know you have a bad parent when they have to "put up" with you  instead of loving you unconditionally, but hey beggars can't be choosers, right?

Me thinking about how life could've been was making me depressed so I decided to go out for breakfast, I got dressed and got the keys to my car and went out get food.

On the way there I get an incoming call from Jenna, thought she would've been busy this morning so this was a pleasant surprise. I answered but kept my eyes on the road.

"Hello darling, how'd you sleep" she asked, she knows I don't sleep well when she's gone.

"Um... I slept okay, probably could've got more sleep though. I'm just going to that Italian place we went to a month ago for some breakfast. How's shooting going" I asked, she's currently filming for her new movie 'death of a unincorn' with Paul Rudd.

"Filming's going great, Paul's really cool and I can't wait for you to meet him, he's knows you're a marvel fan too." She giggles mischievously, that little minx.

"Jenna why'd you say that." I whine feeling embarrassed.

"Aw babe, don't be shy he thinks you're really cool." She says reassuringly.

"Yeah sure he does" I say sarcastically, making her laugh. "Do you know when you'll be home?" I miss her dearly, I need to see her soon.

She let's out a sigh, I brace myself for bad news. "Sorry, sweet boy. I won't be back for another week." I let out sad sigh and a whine, I missed her alot.

"Hey, hey, don't be upset baby boy, I'll be home before you know it and we'll have so much fun together. The week will go by quick I promise." She cooed, she always knew what to say to put me at ease.

"Alright sweetie I have to go, drive safe for me and I'll see you very soon." She blew a kiss through the phone "I love you, sweetheart"

"I love you too, Jenna." We end the call and I continue my journey.

I arrive at the restaurant, this is gonna drain my social battery for today so I hope I don't have to to anyone that much, I just wanna get my food, eat then leave.

I ate my food peacefully, the staff were wonderful, definitely going there again for breakfast. I leave the restaurant and do some birthday shopping for myself, figured I may aswell treat myself to something nice for my "big day"; I sound miserable.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I feel my phone vibrate, a few text messages from some of my friends and cast mates from scream 5 and 6. I read them and I was shocked, how did they know...

Jasmin

Hey Y/N/N, hope you're having a lovely birthday. Can't wait you see you soon.

Devyn

Howdy stranger, happy birthday my love, you're 20! Hope you're doing well and I'll see you soon... very soon. 😈

Mikey

Looks like someone has a birthday today... AND YOU DIDNT TELL ME! HOW DARE YOU! Besides that betrayal I miss you so much Y/N, happy birthday my sweet.

Mason

Hey man, looks who's 20 years old! Happy birthday bud, hope you have a good one.👍

Melissa

Hey hey, it's the birthday boy! Happy birthday honey, you deserve the best birthday in the world. All the best from me and my husband.

Jack Quaid

Hey buddy, happy 20th birthday! I miss you alot pal, Karl and Antony send their birthday wishes too. Hope to see you soon, buddy.

I was shocked; flabbergasted even. How did they know, they couldn't have possibly...unless. I looked the last message, it was from Jenna, the mastermind behind this.

❤️Jenna❤

Hi baby boy, guess who found out when your birthday is! You never told me when it was but I asked around and viola! Happy birthday sweet boy, I promise we'll see each other very very soon. I love you so much, sweetheart.❤

That little minx... this is why I love her so much, I can't begin to express how much I love her and this just solidifies that. I sent her a message back saying I love her and continue to the mall.

But as I walk to the shopping mall I see three woman who look very familiar, they're wearing party hats too. No... no way... it can't be...

Jenna POV

The look on Y/N's face is priceless, he looked shocked, excited, and emotional at the same time. I think me, Jasmin and Devyn did good on surprising him.

"JENNA?!" He says with glassy eyes.

"C'mere sweetheart" I say and open my arms, he runs towards me and I wrap him in a tight hug.

"I missed you so much" he said while crying, he's such a cutie oh my god.

"Aww sweetie, I missed you too, so much honey. I've been tracking you on Life360 and we intercepted you here. Happy birthday my love, I know you don't like big crowds so I brought Devyn and Jasmin with me" they spoke up.

"Happy birthday, Y/N/N. It's so good to see you, I've missed you alot." Devyn says making him smile widely.

"It's been too long since we've seen you Y/N, how have you been?" Jasmin asks. He lifts his head from my neck and speaks.

"Better now that you guys are here, I haven't really been feeling the best since I've been on my own, I'm so glad you're here Jenna." I hold him and rub his back in comfort.

I want him to really enjoy his birthday today, I already have stuff waiting for him at home. I think he's gonna love it. "Let's go do some shopping and then we'll go home, I have a surprise for you." His eyes lit up and I kiss his cheeks.

- 2 hours later

Y/N drove behind me as we made our way back home. Jasmin and Devyn went home soon after we shopping. We park up to the driveway and he joins me at the front door.

"Close your eyes, birthday boy" I ask and he looks at me with caution.

"What are you planning now, Ortega?" He asks me; suspicion in his voice.

"Just close them silly" he obliged and I take his hand to guide him to his surprise. We reach the living room. "Okay, open your eyes sweetheart."

He opened them and is met with countless presents ranging from: action figures and Lego sets from their favourite franchise, new clothes, PC parts and much much more. I wanted to spoil him and make up for the 20 years of birthdays he missed out on. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Jenna... is this all mine?" He asked, still not believing that he finally had a proper birthday.

"All yours, sweetness" I hug him as tight as I can, he cries into my shoulder out of, what I can only assume, happiness. "Don't cry honey, it's okay. That's all for you because I love you so so much, you deserve this my love, you deserve the world." I cooed softly.

"Thank you so much" he said through his cries.

"You're so welcome, my beautiful birthday boy." I say then kiss his forehead, cheeks and lips.

"Wait here, baby boy" I head into the kitchen and grab his cake. I light the candles and head back into the living room.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Y/N, happy birthday to you." I sing and he blows out his candles.

I cheer and set the cake on the table. He smiled so brightly, he finally got to have a real birthday to celebrate.

Happy birthday Y/N.

A/N

Not my birthday, but I thought it'd make a good story. I hope you enjoyed.

[oneforthemunny]

the best day with you today |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: after the fostering and now adoption of oliver, eddie navigates life as a father. or the first time eddie is called "dad".

contains: life ruining fluffy angst. dad!eddie, mom!reader, mentions of past trauma, foster care, adoption, shitty parents, but really just cutesy fluff.

Wayne had been shocked to see them, Eddie and Oliver. Oliver in his sneakers and zip up hoodie, padding behind the older man up the stairs, sneaker clad steps against the creaking wood. He looked better since the first time he saw him, Wayne decided. A far cry from the scraggly, scared little thing with wide eyes that darted around the room at anything that he was when he first came. He looked more relaxed, confident- loved.

He'd looked so much like Eddie then. Looked so much like that same scared boy with a shaved head and nervous eyes that Wayne saw when Eddie'd first came to live with him. It made his heart twist with uncomfortable sympathy at the time, the parallels between the two. But now, Wayne was proud. The boy looked better- his grandson, officially.

Wayne had been there the day the judge announced the adoption, just shy of three weeks ago. Standing in the court room, lips pressed in a watery boasted smile, standing next to your parents, trying to hide his tears while Eddie beamed down at the young boy. You both looked so proud, so full of love. He knew the two of you would love Oliver the way he deserved, how a child should be loved and adored and doted on. It made his chest swell with pride, proud he’d raised such a good man. Wayne bragged on the two of you every chance he got, boasted to everyone about his grandson. Standing in grocery lines chatting to strangers- something he never did before- pulling a picture out of his wallet to show anyone who'd let him Ollie’s school pictures, laminated photos of them fishing, brag about his stellar report card.

"What're you two doin'?" Wayne grinned wide, lines around his eyes crinkling. The screen door to the trailer creaked loudly when he leaned against it. "Didn't know you were stoppin' by."

Eddie hugged his uncle briefly in greeting. "Hope we're not bothering you." He offered, but he knew they weren't. Wayne's small scoff assured him of that.

"You know you never bother me." Wayne shook his head. "'Specially not when you bring my favorite boy around." He grinned down at Oliver. "How you doin', Ollie? Gimme a hug, boy."

Oliver smiled back in greeting, throwing his arms around Wayne, a tight hug that only a child could give. Wayne was glad he was still small, still giving hugs. He was ten now, nearly eleven, growing more and more everyday.

"What brings you two over? Myrtle's comin' over in a few. We're gonna watch our program if ya like to stay." Wayne offered. Myrtle, from two trailers down, and Wayne had been in a casual fling for as long as you knew them. Eddie always shook his head when you asked him, shrugging and rolling his eyes at his uncle.

Oliver’s ears perked up at the mention of the older woman. He adored Myrtle, loved the records she played, and more importantly, that she made the best brownies in the world. She was always sneaking him a sweet treat, a tight lipped smile and a wink like it was a super secret.

"We came looking for a basketball." Eddie said with a nod, looking over at Oliver to confirm. "Ollie wants to try out for the fifth and sixth grade team, so we're going to practice."

Wayne hesitated, face falling for a moment, brows raising in question. "And you... you're gonna teach him, Ed?" He asked, brow lifted skeptically.

Wayne distinctly remembered when Eddie got the basketball, the last gift from his father. His father was fresh out of jail, for the fifth time, and Eddie was thirteen. He left Eddie a birthday gift, four months after his birthday, and it was a basketball. One he'd stole, no doubt, but given to Eddie as a 'heartfelt' gift. Eddie had tried to play, tried to learn, and Wayne had given it his best effort to teach him. He took him down to the courts by the trailer, but the boy could barely dribble, looking about as graceful as a bull in a china shop, open hand smacking the ball. The basketball had gone up that day and never gotten back out, sitting on the corner of Eddie's dresser in his room and collecting dust. Until today.

Eddie frowned, looking from Oliver back over to Wayne. "Yeah," He nodded, giving the younger boy a reassuring half smile. "We're going to go down to the school. Practice on the courts there." Eddie patted Ollie's head, rustling the curls underneath.

Wayne nodded, grinning down at the boy. "Well, that sounds like a big day." His brows raising in excitement, exaggerated for the younger boy. "Good thing you have your Daddy to teach ya, right, Ollie?"

Eddie felt his heart drop, squeezing in uncomfortable anticipation, craning down with a side eyed glare so hard it strained his eyes. His breath hitched, anticipating the rejection from Oliver, that soul crushing discard that would wreck Eddie. Ollie just nodded, unbothered by the term. They'd had Oliver in their care for a while now, he was in your class even before then, but Eddie was still hesitant about the titles.

Basketball in hand, wiping the thick layer of dust that covered it, Ollie and Eddie bounded back down the stairs, waving goodbye before setting off to the courts. Wayne watched them back out, head shaking in amusement at the two.

Eddie's heart hammered as they inched closer and closer to the school, sweaty palms he rubbed over the wheel in a tight grip. Oliver seemed unbothered, and he was glad, watching the boy in the rear view him along to his cassette, kicking his little Reeboks against the seat. Eddie’s stomach twisted, turned and lurched with bundles of nerves, the fear that he wouldn’t be able to fulfill what he was supposed to- that he’d let Oliver down.

His head clouded with judgement. He knew he wasn't the best for a basketball lesson, he should've asked Steve, but dammit if his selfish pride hadn't let him. When Oliver came to Eddie, expressing interest in trying out for the team, Eddie leaped at the opportunity. The thought of any other sharing the experience with him instead made his insides twist with jealousy.

So here he was, holding the rusty orange ball, awkward and unsure in his big hands, with the little boy in front of him, wide eyed and awaiting.

"Uh, you need to learn to dribble first. That would be a good place to start." Eddie nodded firmly, much less confidently than he should have. He paused then looked at Oliver. "Do you know how to dribble?"

Oliver shook his head, and Eddie's shoulders deflated slightly. "Right, right." He muttered, eyes flashing up quickly. "Not that that's a bad thing!" He replied frantically. "That's alright,, I mean, that’s why I-I'm here to teach you."

Eddie sounded sure enough, except, he wasn't entirely sure how to dribble. It couldn't be that hard, you just hit the ball and it bounces back up. "So, you take your hand and lay it kinda flat- like this," Eddie showed him, holding the ball in the other. "Then you just hit the ball hard, but not like too hard, just enough for it to come back up to you, like..."

Eddie dropped the basketball, other hand out in anticipation to smack it and show the dribble. The ball made a defeated thudding sound, the air sputtering out of it with a thick plop! before melting into the asphalt like putty, slouching with a collapse. Eddie frowned, picking the ball up, fingers pressing into the thick material of the ball, it felt squishy and molded to his touch. Eddie wasn't an expert by any means, but he was sure that wasn't supposed to happen.

Oliver titled his head to the side curiously, squinting when he looked up at Eddie. "I think it needs some air." He observed, in pure childlike obviousness.

Eddie let out a short huff, frustrated with himself, truthfully. Of course the ball was out of air. He hadn't touched the thing in well over twenty years.

"Yeah, I think you're right, buddy." Eddie nodded, lips pressing together in thought. He looked towards the school, patting his pockets. "I think there should be some in the gym closet. Maybe we could get one of those and use it?" Eddie suggested, fishing for his keys.

Oliver's eyes lit up in excitement, little sneakered feet bounding beside Eddie towards the school. "Can we get out the rolly chair things?" Oliver asked, grinning wide up at Eddie, bouncing on the rubber soled ends of his shoes. He was snaggletoothed, missing his front tooth after last weekend.

Eddie's heart melted. "Maybe. Only if Coach Bronski hasn't stacked them like a jackass again." He muttered, rolling his eyes in disdain for the elementary school coach. His eyes widened, looking down at Oliver, seeing the tiny smile on the boy’s face. "Don't say that word. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He said quickly.

Oliver giggled. "I won't."

Eddie grinned, squinting down at him playfully. "You better not. Your mom will kill me, buddy." Eddie groaned dramatically. His chest panged with a little jealousy, lips falling slightly when he pushed the key in.

Oliver had taken to calling you 'Mom' a few weeks ago, after Olivia was born. You'd cried when he did. Eddie was enthralled for you, he was, but he couldn't help but hurt a little for himself. It made him entirely too insecure for his own liking. He knew he shouldn't take it personally, that it was Oliver's pace of comfort and he would never do anything to pressure him. Yet he still felt consumed with fear, guilt, worries about why Oliver didn't feel comfortable with him yet to give him the title.

Eddie turned the lock, the bolt clicking loudly before it was unlocked. Eddie pushed the door open with a loud creak, letting the little boy scamped under his arm. Oliver's eyes were wide with wonder, looking around the empty gym that doubled as a cafeteria. The lunch tables were pushed into the wall, everything put away and lights dimmed for the weekend. Though he'd been in the school after hours, it was all still so exciting to the ten year old.

"Isn't it cool that you have a key to everywhere?" Oliver asked, eyes wide and shining up at Eddie.

"Yeah, 's pretty cool." Eddie grinned back down at him. "Sometimes it can be a lot of pressure. With great responsibility, though, Ollie." Eddie twirled his keys around.

Oliver giggled. "That's from Spider-Man." He said proudly, waiting for Eddie to open the door.

"It is." Eddie nodded. "You still liking Spider-Man?"

"Yeah." Oliver hummed. "I like Aqua-Man, too."

"Oh, don't tell me you're going over to the dark side with Uncle Dustin." Eddie groaned playfully. "You know Marvel is better than DC."

"I dunno." Oliver giggled with a shrug, purely boyish and sweet. Eddie’s heart squeezed in adoration. "I jus' like them both."

"That's alright. I'm just teasin' with ya." Eddie ruffled his locks with a smile. "As long as you don't start actin' like Dustin, we're good." He grinned at the laugh Oliver gave him.

Eddie fished the basketball out of the large big, giving it a few test bounces before the duo went back outside.

Eddie awkwardly showed Oliver how to dribble, the two moving around the red top courts outside with the grace of newborn fawns. Smacking hands, the boing! of the ball bouncing off the pavement while they chased it, hitting it at an uncomfortable angle.

"Run, run, Ollie!" Eddie laughed, clapping his hands with encouragement. "Just-Just dribble it- yeah! Yes! Just like that! Atta boy, look at you!" Jogging beside the younger boy, laughing gleefully while they smacked and chased the ball.

He knew this wasn't great 'coaching' on his part, but Oliver was having fun. Wide smile that crinkled his eyes and a laugh that rang through the open court. Eddie's own laugh joining in while the clambered back and forth, chasing the flyaway ball and bouncing it extra hard to see if it would go higher than the two of them. The two were positively silly running with the ball, but they were having fun.

Oliver rubbed his eyes, cheeks red and wind bitten from the outside, fighting a yawn while Eddie put the ball away. "You tired?" Eddie asked, small smile on his lips. He knew the answer, but the sleepy nod, bob of curls bouncing from the smaller boy shaking them made his heart warm, knuckling at his eyes.

Eddie patted his shoulder, hugging him to his side. "You did good today, Ollie." Eddie beamed proudly down at the boy- his son.

Truthfully, Eddie wasn't sure if Oliver did great or not, he's let Steve be the judge of that (he was the coach of the team after all), but he did know that they had fun. They'd laughed until their cheeks hurt, ran up and down the court until their sides ached with laughter.

Eddie's chest was warm, light and filled with content while Ollie grabbed his hand, an instant reaction when crossing the street towards the lot. He could hear your voice in his ears, “Look both ways, grab my hand.” Eddie could feel the hand in his, small and soft.

"I had a lot of fun." Ollie admitted, looking up at Eddie, eyes gleaming even in the gloomy sky. "Do you think we could do that again, Dad?"

Eddie's breath caught in his chest, strangled gasp that choked and sputtered out of his mouth. Heart lurching in his chest with surprise. His eyes widened, and he tried to will them to relax, knowing his reaction could scare Oliver. He was still fragile from his before home life, sudden reactions scared him still, sent him retreating and cowering.

"W-What?" Eddie stuttered, dumbly. He kicked himself for the reaction, wishing he would say something better than what he did. Especially when Oliver’s hand tensed in his.

"I-I liked dribbling on the court." Oliver muttered hesitantly, chin tucking to his chest, a sign of submission. Eddie's heart lurched in panic. "I'd like to do it again if-if you want to...with me. If you're not too busy with the baby or-or if you don't want to-"

"No." Eddie blurted, fiercer than he meant it to be. He cringed at himself, eyes shutting in irritation. Get it together, Munson.

"No, I mean, no I-I would never be too busy for you, Oliver, you know that." Eddie said sincerely, nodding down at the boy, rambling anxiously. "I just, uh, I- yeah, I had so much fun with you today too." Eddie admitted.

"Really?" Ollie asked, tilting his head to the side. "I thought you told Mom you didn't like sports and confor-forminin-"

"Conformity." Eddie snorted lightly with a grin. "I was just teasin' her. I just never had someone to play sports with me, but now I do, right? We can be sports...partners." Eddie was unsure of the word, but Oliver didn't seem to mind.

"Yeah," Oliver nodded. "Like-Like Aquaman and Aqualad." He grinned excitedly at the analogy.

Eddie let out an exaggerated breath of air, eyes rolling in playful dramatics. "Please, don't use your DC references around me."

Oliver giggled, pulling the handle of the car door open. He hung on the door for a moment, looking back at Eddie, tiny lips twisted in thought. "Spider-Man and Iron Man?" He offered, head tipping to the side.

Eddie grinned, dimples deep in his cheeks. "Better." He laughed, helping the boy into his booster seat.

Eddie got a little emotional seeing the base for Olivia's carrier next to Oliver's booster seat, one he was already about to outgrow before needing nothing at all. He'd never had a car seat or booster seat before coming to live with you and Eddie, carelessly strapping himself in before his mother would try to navigate home, usually too fucked up on whatever she's shot up her arms to see straight.

He'd been so little in your class, still small when he came into your care. A scrawny and malnourished little boy with dirty clothes that he tried to clean in the sink before school, usually coming into the classroom with his shirt still dripping, but he didn't want the other kids to tell him he smelled.

Now, he had a new wardrobe, Wayne and your parents spared no expense spoiling their new grandson, even before he was officially yours. He went to bed with a warm belly, clean sheets, clean skin, brushed teeth, and warm kisses. Oliver had flourished since then, not so bony anymore, a little taller; happier, loved.

Eddie secured the seat belt. "Maybe we should stop by the store and get a ball." Eddie suggested. "One that's not flat, if you want to play again."

Oliver nodded. "Yeah." He paused for a moment, little brows furrowed in thought. "Is-Is it ok if I call you Dad?" He asked, eyes shining up at Eddie's.

Eddie felt his breath hitch again, heart fluttering and beating so hard in his chest he thought it might shoot through his ribcage. "I-I mean, yeah." Eddie stuttered, frowning at himself dumbly. "Only if you want to, Ollie, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

Oliver looked down at his feet, dangling and hitting the seat. "I-I think I want to call you Dad." Oliver admitted. "Because I call Mom, Mom, and-and you're my Dad like Mom's my Mom." His logic was simple, boyish, but it made Eddie's nose and throat burn, happy tears but emotional nonetheless.

"I think I'd like that too." Eddie agreed, jaw clenching to keep himself from crying. "I had a really great time with you today." Eddie reached down to hug the boy, a little awkward in the carseat but tight and full of love.

"Me too." Ollie smiled. "Thanks for teachin' me to dribble."

"No problem." Eddie pulled away, hands on the little boy's shoulders- his son's shoulders. "You're a natural, kid. Gonna be in the hall of fame."

Oliver laughed, but blushed at the praise. Eddie couldn't stop smiling, he was sure his cheeks were going to split open, but he couldn't help it.

Oliver bounded through the front door, kicking his little sneaker off in the pile by the bench, before running to find you.

Eddie could hear him in your bedroom, excitedly chattering about his day, showing you the new basketball. Shiny and new, still had the fresh rubber smell. You cooed back at him excitedly, smiling when he went to show Olivia, talking sweetly to her in her little bassinet.

"Hey," You greeted Eddie with a smile. "Good day? Heard dribbling lessons went great." You beamed.

Eddie nodded, sniffing slightly. "Yeah, yeah it was great. Amazing actually, he, uh," His eyes cut from Oliver and Olivia back to you. "He called me Dad today."

Your face melted with joy, a small gasp leaving your lips. You watched Eddie's eyes shine, watering, his lips press together in a tight line to keep his lips from quivering. "Oh, Ed," You coo, reaching your hand out instinctively to cradle his jaw.

You were so sweet like that, so kind. Nurturing and caring came so easy to you, Eddie was for certain you had to be some kind of saint, you were too perfect in every way. You wrapped your arms around Eddie's middle, squeezing him tight, feeling his arms wrap back around you.

Oliver continued to babble to Olivia, letting her grab onto his finger, gurgling spit and giving tiny baby cackles to her older brother when he'd talk to her. You'd been worried when the adoption process first started, and you had found out you were expecting, that it would mess things up, ruin what you'd built with Oliver. He'd been hesitant at first, more uneasy with the thought that you might replace him, but the second he met his little sister, he'd been completely wrapped around her tiny finger. Just like his daddy. Just like you.

You pressed your cheek to the soft fabric of Eddie's shirt, watching through glazed, love drunk eyes Oliver push Olivia's little bassinet, rocking her slowly. Eddie's hand ran up and down your back soothingly, pressing into the small of your back to pull your closer. It was everything you all could have wished for, your own little family.

for @wheels-of-despair bc I know this is your fave lil family <3