#i’m still mad about do it like that okay

[luveline]

Hi!!

Could a please request Peter Parker x reader where they’ve been together for a while and discuss family planning? Like they want to start a family together but both have anxieties for different reasons with Peter being Spider-Man and just general nerves at this being a big step and they comfort one another?

If you get round to this then thank you!!!

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

“But you’re Spider-Man.” 

Peter doesn’t know how you ended up like this, his face at your feet, his feet past your head in his pillows. Your toes wiggle in your socks unthinkingly. 

“I’m Spider-Man.” 

“How are we s’posed to have a baby if you’re a superhero?” 

You ask it without malice; you aren’t telling him to do one thing or another, you’re just posing a simple question. Or, not so simple. Thinking about it provokes a hundred different questions, and he gets your point. How can he be a father if he’s a superhero, half the time? How can he expect you to sign on to motherhood while he risks his life? 

He has to prove that he can do it without getting hurt. Without getting anyone hurt. 

“I’ve been Spider-Man for a long time,” he says softly. 

You pretend to drop your foot on his face. He laughs and curls into you, an arm around your leg like a wonky cuddle. “And it gets more dangerous every year.” 

“I would… being Spider-Man is…” Peter noses at your leg. Your pyjama pants are hiked up near your knee, leaving a calf open for his mouth to brush against. “I’m Spider-Man,” he says again. That’s the simplest explanation. He just is Spider-Man. “But I would change things. I already have, I mean, I have you to think about now.” 

“I just don’t know if I’d be okay with having a baby, if you might die.” 

Peter sits up. He frowns. “I’m not going to die.” 

You just nibble your lip. 

“Is that something you worry about?” 

You sit up to meet him. “Of course I do.” 

He’s thankful you’re close. He takes your hand, turning your wedding ring to see the stone laid at the apex. You used to worry so much it would make you sick, and he changed to make that easier on you, because he loves you. What was the point in getting married if he was gonna leave you in agony every time he left the house? Newspapers scorned a more careful Spider-Man, and Peter has had to make some hard calls. He can’t be selfless anymore —he thinks about you every time he throws a new web. 

He didn’t realise you were still worried. “When was the last time I got hurt?” 

“Last night.” 

He winces. “Alright, when was the last time I got hurt enough to need medical attention?”

“Last Tuesday.” 

“Bub, that was one finger, it healed in two hours.” 

“But if you were a normal guy, it would’ve been weeks.” You aren’t out to torture him, or argue, your lips puckered for a quick kiss as he pulls you toward him. “I’m just saying,” you murmur, tapping his nose, your eyebrow pressed against his, “if you want a baby with me? You’re gonna have to give up even more. Okay?” 

“Okay,” he says immediately. 

Okay. Because he’s Spider-Man, and it means everything to him, but he’s your husband. This is your life together. 

“I want a baby with you,” he says, a murmur to match your own as his hands wrap around your waist. He drags you forward, your faces still smushed together. “I want kids, and you want them too, and I want you to have everything. So if you need me to change, I can change. I can’t stop, but I can make it work.” 

“You’d have to stop sometimes–”

He leans away and cups your shoulder. “I know. I’m not gonna get you pregnant and go out every night.” 

“Just every other.” 

“No, no,” he insists softly. “Bub, listen to me. If you’re ready, then I’m ready. No messing around. I’m your partner, right? I’m your husband before I’m Spider-Man.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask. 

Peter’s not mad, but he’s a little upset you’d think so. He’s not trying to make you feel this way. He wants you to have total confidence in him, and your potential future family.

“You need me to tell you that? I’ve never been more sure about anything.” 

He doesn’t need you to agree to a baby tonight or anything, he just wants you to be happy with him. So he tells you emphatically that you’re his world. You already know why he’s Spider-Man, the responsibility that drives him, but there’s responsibility in being with you and making you happy. At the end of the day, you come first. He wishes you knew that, but he doesn’t mind telling you. 

It’s a little later with his arms around you, right side up this time, that he confesses, “I don’t even know if I’d be a good dad.” 

You aren’t worried. “That’s silly. As long as you don’t get killed by a giant radioactive reptile, you’ll be amazing.”

“How do you know?” 

“Same way you know I’ll be a good mom.” 

“You will be.”

You kiss his neck. “I knew you’d say that. I don’t know if I’ll be a good mom, I just know you believe in me.” 

“I do.”

“You’ll be a good dad,” you further, pressed as far into his neck as you can be, lavished by his hands running up and down your back. “I know parenting is a lot of things, but I really think it’s the same as being a good boyfriend. You’re kind. You’re so patient. You’re funny. I can’t wait to have a little baby that looks like you n…” You sigh. He loves that touch of wistfulness behind it. “I can’t wait to be a family with you.” 

“Are you tired?” he asks. 

You mumble. “Mm. Just a bit.” 

He strokes your neck. “I can’t wait to be a family, either… maybe it can wait until tomorrow, though.” 

You smile into his jaw, dragging yourself up to kiss his cheek. “Love you, Peter Parker.” 

[hoshifighting]

I was reading your leaving after a fight reaction and o got an idea could you please do one where reader leaves and goes to a bar and gets drunk they get a call from the bar and it’s just fluff

seventeen reacting to you getting drunk after a fight WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and arguments, & fluff too.

seungcheol grabs his keys, his mind racing. he can’t let you drown in this. when he arrives at the bar, he spots you immediately. you’re laughing with a group, a glass in hand. “hey!” he snaps, but the bark in his tone quickly fades as you turn to him “what the hell are you doing? this isn’t fun. you need to come home.” he tries to keep his voice steady, but the concern leaks through. “why? so we can fight more?” you roll your eyes, but u look vulnerable still. “you think you’re perfect? you’re not!” “i never said that. im just taking care of you” he bites. your eyes soften, and relief washes over him as you touch his arm, guiding him toward the door.

jeonghan's phone buzzes, cutting through his thoughts. it’s the bar, and his stomach drops. “on my way,” he snaps, not bothering to hide the urgency in his voice. when he arrives you turn, a grin spreading across your face that makes his heart ache. “jeonghan! come join the party!” “this isn’t a party! you need to come home y/n.” he reaches for the glass in your hand, gently prying it away. “let’s go home and talk this out. please babygirl” you hesitate, the fire in your eyes dimming as you look at him, the fight leaving your body.

joshua dont hop into the car, he throws himself in!!! he asks the bar number if you're doing okay as he drives. “there you are,” he says, pushing through the crowd. you know joshua cares too much. he’s sweet like that, always wanting to shield you from everything, even yourself. you look down at the bar top, the wood grain swirling under your fingertips. “i just... needed a break.” “from me?” he asks, sadly. you bite your lip. joshua’s expression softens, and he reaches out, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “can we just talk about it? please?” u glance up, meeting his gaze, and it feels like home. “fine. but only if u promise to stop being so fucking cute when we fight.” he chuckles, relief flooding his features. “no promises, babe.”

junhui “where are you?” he texts after the call, worry oozing through the words. “out,” you reply tersely, taking another drink. “the bar? seriously?” “what if i am?” you shoot back, but inside, you know you’re pushing him away. “stay there. i’ll be there soon.” “don’t bother,” you type, but your heart sinks at the thought of him not showing up. a short while later, the door swings open, and there he is—his hair a little messy, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. he strides over, concern etched into his features. “what are you doing?” he asks, taking the seat next to you. “just enjoying my night,” you reply, a little too defensively. he raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “by drinking alone?” “i’m not alone; i have my drink,” you mutter, taking a long sip as if it could drown your frustration. he leans closer, his voice dropping to a gentle tone. “you know that’s not what i meant. you’re not okay. let me take care of you baby? hm?” you nod, feeling the walls you built starting to crumble. “fine, but if you keep looking at me like that, i might just forgive you too easily.”

hoshi wrinkled his nose the moment he smelled the strong drink you were drinking, he was clearly sweating like he was running a marathon to get to where you were. “you’re mad at me, but this isn’t how we solve things... you know you can tell me anything, right? even if it’s hard?” you take a deep breath, feeling the tension in your chest begin to ease. “i just hate fighting with you. it feels like we’re always stuck in this cycle.” “i hate it too,” he admits, reaching for your hand. “but running away doesn’t fix it. let’s talk.” “talk? like, actually talk?” you tease, a small smile creeping onto your face. “yeah, that thing where we don’t just yell at each other,” he says, grinning back. “i’m pretty good at it.” you can’t help but laugh, the sound lightening the mood.

wonwoo slides the helmet, and hops on his motorcycle, a few moments later, the door swings open, and there he is—hands in his pockets, that serious yet soft expression making your heart ache. he spots you and makes his way over, concern etched in his features. “you’re really here,” he says, his voice low. “didn’t think you’d come,” you reply, trying to sound indifferent, but you're soft. “and leave you alone like this? not a chance.” he sits beside you, his presence instantly calming. you glance at him, catching the way his brows furrow slightly. he squeezes your hand and kisses your neck softly “let's go home, hm? i'll give u a nice warm bath and we'll talk before going to bed, is that okay, sweetie?”

woozi strides over the bar, hair messy, body stiff, eyes worried, after the call, and you can see the scolding ready to spill from his lips. “i can’t believe you left without telling me. i was worried sick. you really just left? you could’ve told me!” “ listen jihoon, i didn’t want to fight anymore. it was too much.” he flinches, he didn't mean to snap at you, but he was really worried. “i get it,” he replies quietly, his voice gentler now. “but you know you can tell me when it gets too heavy, right?” you take a deep breath, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. “what do u say we talk about it over ice cream? my treat,” he suggests, a playful grin breaking through. “ice cream sounds perfect,” you reply, matching his smile. “you always know how to fix things.” “it’s a talent,” he jokes, and you can’t help but laugh, the heaviness of earlier fading into something sweet.

minghao asks the bartended to pass the phone to you, “i’m coming to get you,” minghao’s voice is steady, cutting through your haze. “you shouldn’t be there.” “i’m fine,” you snap, but even you can hear the slight slur in your words. he knows you better than that. “you’re not,” he replies. when minghao finally walks in, the door swings open, and the bell jingles, like a damn superhero coming to save the day. “hey,” he says softly, the frown on his face deepening as he takes in your state. “you look… rough.” “yeah, well, thanks for the observation,” you retort, but there’s no real bite in your words. he steps closer, the scent of him wrapping around you like a familiar hug. “i didn’t ask you to come.” “no, but you need me,” he counters, taking your hand, grounding you. his touch makes your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but lean into him, feeling the fight inside you melt away. “let’s talk, okay? i love you and I hate fighting with you.” you melt, and minghao smiles small.

mingyu in quesiton of minutes was there, tall and worried searching for you on the bar, the call made him stumble on his feet on his way there. “you really shouldn’t be here,” you murmur, but your heart races as he approaches, the worry etched on his face only making you want to lean into him. “and you shouldn’t be here alone. we both know you’ll feel worse if you stay out like this. just let me take care of you.” the softness in his tone makes your heart twist. “you don’t have to play the hero.” “but i want to,” he insists, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his. the warmth of his grip pulls you back from the edge of your frustration, reminding you of everything you love about him. “please?” you take a deep breath, the tension in your shoulders easing as you look into his eyes. “fine. let’s go home.” “thank you,” he whispers, pulling you into a hug that feels like coming home, before arriving in.

seokmin not even five minutes later appears on the bar, seokmin steps inside, scanning the crowd until his eyes land on you. relief floods his expression, and he rushes over, pulling you into his arms before you can say a word. “what the hell, you scared me,” he murmurs, hugging your back tightly. his warmth seeps into you, and you can’t help but melt a little. “you’re drunk.” his concern wraps around you like a blanket, and suddenly, the anger feels distant. “let’s get you out of here,” he whispers, still holding you close. “i don’t want you to feel like this.” “it’s just… everything’s a mess,” you admit, your voice cracking a bit. “we were fighting and—” “i know,” he interrupts softly, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “but we can talk about it later. right now, i just want to make sure you’re okay.” the sincerity in his gaze makes you want to cry, and you nod slowly. “okay.” he smiles gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “let’s go home, yeah?”

seungkwan the minutes tick by slowly, and every time the door swings open, your heart skips a beat. finally, you spot him striding in, “it’s… it’s not safe for you to be out like this,” he says. you pout. “i can take care of myself.” “you’re making this harder than it has to be,” he grumbles. as you slide off the bar stool, he’s already there, an arm around your waist, guiding you out. you laugh, the sound a bit shaky. “u should try being less of a pain in the ass, kwanniee” you tease, but it’s soft, a flicker of something sweet cutting through the tension. he smirks, finally breaking into a grin. “noted. now, let’s get you home before you say something else you’ll regret.”

vernon would keep his emotions bottled up, when he's almost purple in worry, would run to the bar fast, breathing properly only when he finally sees you. “i don’t need you to babysit me,” you sulk when you feel him taking you from the bar stool, “just… please? for once, let me be the responsible one,” he replies squeezing your waist. “oh, shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “i was just having a good time.” “more like trying to forget about our fight,” he counters, crossing his arms, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “let’s get you home before you embarrass yourself further.”

chan before the bartender ended the call, was already on the way. the moment he reaches you, he slips an arm around your shoulder, guiding you away from the noise. “you okay?” he asks, searching your face with those steady eyes. you can see the maturity in his expression, the way he balances concern in his heart with the logic, “i will be,” you say, though you know it’s not entirely trrue. his presence calms the storm brewing inside you, and u lean into him. “you’re allowed to feel things,” he expresses, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “but next time, can we talk instead of shouting? i’d rather understand what you’re going through.” you nod, the way he watches over you even after an imense fight. “yeah, that sounds good babe...” he smiles with the full of love name.

[themultifanshipper]

Do you think you could do something like this

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/759431110157631488/quiet-innocent-reader-x-lando-like-lando-finds

Maybe with Oscar ( love your writing)

If Oscar had to describe your sex life in one word : Vanilla.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that! God knows how much the two of you enjoyed the sex you had. You weren’t very experienced when you met Oscar, and you were quite a shy person.

Which is why Oscar was so shocked when he found what appeared to be a list of your kinks just sitting there when he got up to make his morning coffee.

Fun fact, this request was sent over a month ago, and i only have a couple more to do before i can get to my own stuff lmao

Warnings: innocent reader, Smut, PinV sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mention of lots of kinks n stuff

He hadn’t meant to get a glimpse into the inner workings of your sexual psyche, but really, who leaves something like that on the kitchen counter???

As he read it over and over again, his cock twitched in interest and got progressively harder until he put it down, the words seared onto his brain forever.

He tried to have a cold shower but just ended up jerking off furiously to completion imagining doing all the things from your list.

But as soon as he got out of the shower and dried off, he realized he was still achingly hard. He decided to put on a pair of his loosest joggers and go about his day while he waited for you to come back from work.

It wasn’t easy, but he managed to answer a whole two emails, internally debating the moral implications of communicating with his bosses while sporting an erection.

Then he jerked off again.

It did take the edge off for a bit, but every time he thought about it during the day he couldn’t help but fist his cock at the thought of all your filthy fantasies.

When you got home, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and you did your usual routine: shower, skincare, dinner with a glass of wine, followed by watching something with Oscar, the two of you huddled up together on the couch.

That’s when you started noticing Oscar’s behaviour.

It was very subtle, but you could tell he wasn’t at all focused on the movie, periodically fidgeting around uncharacteristically. Oscar was usually very settled, and tonight it was like he couldn’t keep still for more than 30 seconds. You also noticed his breathing was irregular, often getting shallower as he fidgeted.

Oscar couldn’t care less about what was happening on the screen, his brain was focused on the same thing it had been all day, that damn list.

And he’d been hard all day, which certainly didn’t help his internal crisis.

“Oscar” you sighed, pausing the movie “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on with you tonight”

“Nothing’s wrong, why would there be something wrong?” his mouth said, but his flushed cheeks were proof that he was hiding something.

If looks could kill, the one you gave him would have certainly done the trick.

“I… full honesty?” he asked quietly.

You nodded “Full honesty”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Okay, but you can’t get mad at me”

You narrowed your eyes at him “That’s not a promise I can make, but I’ll do my best”

He bit his lip before taking your hands in his.

“I uh… I found your list”

You just stared at him. “What list?”

“This one…” he took the piece of paper out of his pocket where it had been burning a metaphorical hole in his hip ever since he’d found it.

He handed it to you, but you didn’t need to unfold it to know what it was. I was a bright pink piece of paper that had been ripped out of your diary the night before.

You completely froze, panic overtaking you.

“Oh my god. Oscar…” You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you tried to explain “you weren’t meant to find that I’m so sorry! I was going to throw it away this morning and I guess I put it down and completely forgot about it. Fuck- please don’t think I’m weird or whatever and just forget about it, okay? Please?”

You put your head in your hands and whined in distress. This couldn’t be happening. Your loving boyfriend had just learned about your depraved fantasies, and he was never going to see you the same way again.

“I can’t forget about it baby, I spent the entire day jerking off about it”

You head snapped up to finally look into his eyes, your jaw hanging in disbelief. You could tell he was dead serious and your gaze slowly trailed downwards towards his pants, where you could tell he was hard, then back up to his face to find him biting his lip so hard it was turning white.

“you-  what?”

“Sweetheart, I got so hard when I read it, I almost got in my car to come and get you from work. I want to do every thing on that list with you” he leaned closer to you and whispered “Every. Single. Thing.”

His arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, lips coming to brush against your neck. “especially number 3…”

You glanced at the list, seeing what he was referring to and gasped.

“Oscar!”

He chuckled into the crook of your neck.

“Who knew you were so dirty, hmm? Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“I- I didn’t know how to ask” you stuttered as he nipped at the skin of your shoulder.

“That right? Well ask me now, then” he said and you frowned in confusion.

“What?”

“Ask me. Go down the list, and ask me to do those things to you…”

His lips trailed down your body and his hands pushed you to lay down on the sofa as you spluttered in confusion. “I don’t- what?”

“What’s the first thing on the list?” he asked, he knew of course, but he needed to hear you say it.

You blushed, checking the list.

“Choking…”

“Then ask me to choke you”

You shuddered as his mouth continued downwards and his hands spread your legs, one of them pushing your flimsy pyjama shorts to the side to expose you to him.

“Oscar what-“

“I want to see how wet you get just from saying it, go on then.” He ordered and you keened as a finger dipped through your barely moist folds.

“I want you… to uhm” your blush deepened and Oscar smiled at you condescendingly.

“Go on baby, you can do it”

You gulped.

“I want you to choke me” you squeezed your eyes shut at the admission, but Oscar was having none of it.

“Now fucking look at me and ask me again”

You gasped and your eyes flew open to look at him.

“I want you to choke me!”

“Good girl” he stroked your thigh “Next thing?”

You glanced at the list still clutched tightly in you hands.

“Spanking.”

Oscar cocked his head to the side. “What about spanking?”

Your jaw clenched, the fucker knew how to get what he wanted.

“I want you to spank me”

He smiled and nodded for you to continue.

“I want you to fuck me over the balcony for everyone to see” you said, and Oscar’s pupils dilated as he used his fingers to spread you open for him.

“Yeah? Want everyone to see how fucking filthy you actually are?” You whined as his thumb came to dip inside you briefly before rubbing it in slow circles over your clit.

“I want you to degrade and praise me…”

He felt like he was barely holding on to his sanity at this point.

“That’s so hot, fuck.” He palmed himself through his sweats “You want to be my good girl yeah? Want to be my good little slut? Only thing you’re good for anyway…”

You whimpered, his words making your whole body heat up, and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I want you to fuck my mouth”

He had to grip himself through his pants to ground himself, your words having an enormous effect on his composure.

Where had his sweet little innocent girlfriend gone?

“I’ll fuck your mouth baby, make you fucking drool for it, god you’d look so pretty taking me down your throat”

You were definitely wet now, and he took the liberty of sliding a finger inside you and hooking it upwards just to watch you squirm as he rubbed that special spot inside you.

“I want you to tie me up and force me to take it” you said breathlessly.

The noise he let out at that was animalistic as his wide eyes found yours and his jaw went slack as he pulled his pants down just enough to get a hand around himself.

“You have no idea how hot you’d look all tied up and helpless under me baby, it’s making me so hard just thinking about it..”

You moaned as he added a second finger inside you.

“I want, fuck- I want you to use me, and fill me up with your cum whenever you want”

“Shit.” He hissed “Fuck baby, I’m going to fill you up so good, you'll see…”

“Please”

You hadn’t realised how close you were getting, but Oscar’s expert fingers were making you delirious as you continued.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, want to cry from how good you feel inside me, wanna beg for your cock”

Oscar growled and pulled his fingers out.

“Then beg”

He settled over you, putting his weight on you, his dick resting against your folds as he panted into your mouth.

“Beg for my cock, slut”

You were so fucking turned on. Dominant Oscar was something new, but so, so incredibly hot you would have done absolutely anything to have him inside you at that moment.

“Please, please Osc, I need it. I need your cock so bad, please!”

He growled and slid in to the hilt without warning, making you moan into the heated kiss he was currently giving you to distract you. He was thick and the stretch was delicious as his cock dragged along your walls, making you see stars.

He started a deep, hard pace and his hips slapped against yours, obscene sounds filling the room.

“Fuck baby, so fucking wet for me. This what you wanted all along? For me to fucking ruin you on my cock?”

“Yes, Oscar, fuck!”

He chuckled darkly.

“That’s a good girl, so fucking tight, You’re getting close aren’t you? I can sweet your sweet pussy clenching around me, trying to keep me inside...”

He gripped your hips harder and angled his thrusts upwards, nailing your g-spot, and you were a goner. White spots danced in your vision as the pleasure overcame you, cunt spasming around Oscar.

“Perfect, perfect cunt. And it’s all fucking mine” he growled as he finally spilled inside you, filling you to the brim and forcing a pathetic whimper out of you at the new feeling.

Oscar had never come inside you before, and it was insanely hot. The feeling of your slick, hot walls pulsing around him was pure heaven and he couldn’t wait to test everything on that list.

After you’d regained your breath, you chuckled silently to yourself while stroking Oscar's back.

If this is what you got for leaving your list out, maybe you should tell Oscar about your box of toys in the in the back of your closet…

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

just a thought !! but what do u think ‘suki would do if he accidentally hurt reader ? like an elbow to the nose or smth , bc i kid u not that happened with my bf today and he would not leave until i told him i was fine 😭 js thought that katsu wld be an internal emotion wreck ??!

wait i love this omg😭😭tysm for the ask anon this is so cute, your boyfriend sounds like a sweetheart !

your nose stings.

you don’t really know how it happened, but you ended up getting decked in the nose by your boyfriend. accidentally, of course, said boyfriend would rip his own nails of before even thinking of hurting you. however, said boyfriend was also built out of fucking marble.

so it wouldn’t be surprising to say your nose hurt like a bitch.

“ow, ow, ow !” you whine, katsuki channels through confusion, realization and utter fear in about a millisecond. his hands smack against your face.

“holy—shit ! what the fuck’re y’doin’ ?!” his eyes scan all over your face like he’d shot you, and it honestly almost felt like he did. his hands grip at your cheeks. you wince when he presses his thumb to your nose. “ow—i was jus’ g’nna surprise you—ouch, katsuki !”

you pull your face out of his grip but he pulls you back, “stop squirmin’ an’ let me see.” he mumbles quietly, eyebrows furrowed hard. in focus or anger or worry but probably a mix of all three if you knew anything about him.

“holy fuck, why were you sneakin’ around like that, dummy..” you want to roll your eyes about him still trying to scold you, but the tone of his voice is different then when he usually does. he does sound genuinely worried so you want to reassure him.

“i was just trying to say hello.” you reiterate. “suki, i’m fine. it’s already starting to hurt less.” he ignores you and continues to inspect your face.

“nothin’ broken..” he mumbles to himself, thumbing at your nose a bit softer this time. you manage a snort.

“of course not, jesus, katsuki—”

“you’re okay, yeah ?”

“yes !” you giggle, gripping at his wrists. he pouts, studying your face. “it’s already starting to hurt less.”

he frowns even harder “i elbowed the shit outta you.”

“by accident.” you correct, “katsuki, it’s fine.”

“..you’re sure.”

“i’m sure.” you nod, smiling at him to reinforce your point. he squints, then sighs loudly. leaning in to kiss the bridge of your nose, copying the get better kisses you jokingly give him that he always scoffs at but insist you give him without fault. it hurts a bit, but you feel giddy anyway, your smile grows wider.

“don’t sneak up on me like that again, dummy.” he insists “i mean it.”

you cross your fingers together “promise.” you hum, he scoffs, you don’t think he can muster up a roll of his eyes right now since he can’t seem to be able of taking them away from you. he runs his thumb over your forehead.

“if it starts hurting or something, you tell me.”

“katsuki !” you groan, laughing. katsuki doesn’t look amused. not at all.

he growls “oi, i mean it.”

“i got it, i told you i am fine. you’re okay.” it seems that was the reassurance he needed. that you weren’t mad at him to boot. he exhales, shoulders dropping the slightest bit.

“…...you’re positive ?”

“katsuki, i swear to god—”

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Hi can I request first time with chan with shy reader? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

i’ll help you through it, yeah?

pairing: chan x virgin reader

genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers

word count: ~2.6k

warnings: mutual pining, pet names, protected sex, praise.

authors note: i have this request in my inbox for other members as well, so look out for those in the future. i have so many requests (tysm btw) so it’s taking me a little while to get through them. i’m trying to do the oldest ones first because y’all been waiting so long. - not me blushing while writing this. i wish my first time was this sweet. lol

masterlist

"i’m just sick of it, ya know?" you complained. "i’m sick of feeling like this. like im unwanted and missing out on something."

your best friend looked at you, intently listening, but worry starting to mar his features. "are people being mean to you because you’re a virgin?" you could sense the anger threatening to rise up out of him at the thought of someone being mean to you.

"no. this is just pressure i’m putting on myself at this point. im too old to still be a virgin."

"i don’t think that’s true." chris said. "i thought you were saving yourself for someone you really loved? wasn’t that the point?"

he was right, you had always said that since you and chris were kids. you didn’t want your first time to be some fleeting, gross experience. you wanted it to be sweet and full of love. but, it didn’t seem like that was working out and you were tired of waiting.

"yeah well i don’t think that’s going to happen." you said, your voice soft, almost sad. "the person i love doesn’t love me, so im just going to have to give up on that." you chuckled sadly, the sound almost a scoff.

"i understand that. im in the same situation." he confided. "but i haven’t given up. i don’t think you should either."

you looked over at him, the space between you both on the couch was small. you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. that’s just how chris is. he’s warm. he’s warm and he’s safe and.. how could you not be in love with him? your heart longed for him to be the one to take your virginity. your heart ached with the thought of it.

he looked back at you with his big brown eyes, his curly hair tickling his eyelashes. and he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. why couldn’t you just see how in love with you he is? he hated himself for not being able to confess to you. for not being able to just come clean and tell you how you are the center of his universe. but he was scared. to have you as his best friend and to long for you but never have you was better than telling you and losing you all together. but maybe.. he could try to help you with your current problem? see how things went and then he could decide from there what he would do.

"i could maybe.. help you." chris said shyly, rubbing his sweaty palms together in his lap.

you were shocked. "help me? with this?" why would he offer to help you unless he also wanted to? you felt a small bit of hope bloom in your chest.

"only if you want to." he said quickly. "i’m not trying to push myself on you. i’m just trying to help. we don’t have to."

you thought about it for a moment, your body screaming at you to say yes. but your mind was telling you everything that could go wrong. what if he hated it? found you gross and laughed at your inexperience? you brushed those thoughts off. you and chris has been friends for over fifteen years. he would never do something like that to you. he was kind.

"i would be okay with that.." you said. "but it might not be very good."

"i’ll help you through it, yeah?"

you loved him. god you loved him. this was the right decision,you knew that.

he scooted closer to you on the couch, your thighs pressed against each other. he touched your face, turning you to look at him. he looked in your eyes before saying "if you want to stop, just tell me,okay? i won’t be mad." you nodded as he looked down at your lips. and ever so slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or scare you, he leaned it. his pillow soft lips made contact with yours and you were done for. he moved his lips against yours, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head. your hands found their way around his neck, tangling in his curls.

this felt so right, but your stomach churned with worry. your body was still tense.

"sweetheart, relax." he whispered against your lips. "you know me." he kissed you again, his tongue grazing your bottom lip. you felt embarrassed. kissing chris felt like the first time you had ever kissed anyone,even though that wasn’t the case.he had you so flustered, your lips weren’t listening to your brain’s commands. you opened your mouth and let his tongue in. he tasted sweet.

he pulled away, admiring your flushed cheeks. "do you want to move to your bedroom?" he asked. you nodded, and he stood, offering you his hand. he led you though your apartment and to your bedroom, knowing the way by heart. standing at the edge of your bed, he pulled you close. he kissed you again, his hands finding their way under your shirt, tickling the skin of your tummy.

"can we take this off?"

your hesitation made him pull away, studying your face for any signs of wanting to stop. "would it help if i took mine off first?" you nodded again, thankful for his suggestion. "you want to help me?"

you grabbed the hem of his black shirt and pulled it up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. you looked at him, at his body. you had seen him shirtless multiple times over the years. summers spent together swimming and early mornings at his apartment after late night study sessions, but this was different. his chest was bare because he wanted you to see it. and that made your skin hot.

"now you.." he said, reaching for your shirt slowly, giving you time to protest. but you didn’t. you let him pull your shirt off, leaving you standing in front of him in your jeans and lacy black bra. his eyes grew wide, his breath catching in his throat. could he do this? you were so beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you yet. you were starting to squirm under his stare. his hands were warm and soft as they grazed over your skin, his arms wrapping around your waist as he moved to kiss you again. his fingertips danced up your back, until they unclasped your bra and it fell to the floor. he continued kissing you, not looking at your bare chest right away, giving you time to get used to being bare in his presence. you nipples brushed against his chest, growing harder. arousal pooling between your legs as his kisses moved to your jaw and then your neck.

he took his time with you, slowly placing wet kisses on your skin as he guided you to the bed. he laid you down gently, his body hovering above you. he kissed down to your collarbones, across your chest and down to between your breasts. he looked up at you, his lips still pressed to your skin. your cheeks were red, your mouth slightly open as you tried to draw in breath. he saw no signs of stopping in your eyes. no , they begged him to continue. his lips closed around one of your nipples, his tongue gently caressing the nub. his hand gripped your waist as he sucked on your nipple, your hands balled into fists at your sides.

"you can touch me if you want to, baby." he said, his breath blowing cold against the wet skin of your breast. "don’t hold back."

he kissed his way across to your other nipple as you brought your hands to his hair. he started to move lower, until his lips were against your belly button, and even lower still until his tongue was running along the top of your jeans. "can i take these off?" he asked, fingers grazing over the button and zipper. with your approval, he carefully unbuttoned them and slid them down your legs, revealing your panties that matched your bra. he looked up at you, his face only inches from your center. "you’re so wet, baby." he said. "i can see a little wet patch on your panties."

your face flushed and you turned your head, hiding your embarrassment in your pillow.

"hey.. hey.." he said, his hand finding yours, tangling your fingers together. "don’t hide, baby. let me see your pretty face." you did your best to look at him, trying not to focus on your insecurities, but trying to focus on him instead. you squeezed his hand, his kind brown eyes showing nothing but love. he kissed your hip, and across your skin until he was placing a gentle kiss on your clothed clit. you jerked slightly. "is that the spot baby?" you nodded, biting your lip.

he pulled away, standing up. he chuckled at your pout, your little whines of protest. "just let me take these off." he unbuttoned his jeans, and kicked them to the side. he was only wearing his underwear now, his erection causing the material to stretch uncomfortably. he admired your body from this angle. your arms wrapped around your middle, your legs bending, trying to cover yourself. "don’t." he said, grabbing one of your wrists in each hand and holding your arms out. "let me look at you, baby. god, you are so beautiful."

his hands found their way back to your breasts,squeezing slightly before his fingertips grazed down your skin to the elastic of your panties. he hooked his fingers around them. "can i take these off? can i see your little pussy?" you lifted your hips in answer, helping him slide them off. you were completely naked in front of him now but you didn’t have time to be self conscious about it. his lips were already back on your skin,kissing everywhere he could reach. "fuck you’re so pretty." he mumbled against your tummy. "been dreaming about this."

what did he mean by that? you wondered.

"can i see you too?" you asked, your voice sounding so loud to your own ears, having been silent for so long. but you were starting to feel more comfortable. he made you feel so safe.

"of course you can." he said, straightening again to take his briefs off. and now you got to admire him for a moment. the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen leading down to his hard and leaking erection. the first thing you thought was that he was big. but honestly, you didn’t really have much to compare it to.. so what did you know? "don’t worry baby. we’ll go slow." he said, sensing your hesitation.

he leaned down to kiss your lips once again, his fingers making contact with your wetness. he rubbed soft circles on your clit. you grabbed onto his shoulders, your small whimpers falling into his mouth.

"does that feel good?" he asked.

"yes.." you breathed. "so good."

his fingers traveled down through your folds and teased your entrance. "i’ve got to prepare you a little bit, okay? like this.." and he slid one finger inside of you slowly, pumping in and out. you had done this to yourself before but this was completely different. you had never felt like this before. "there you go, baby." once he felt you had gotten used to the first finger, he added a second. he moved them in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing softly on your clit. you could feel your orgasm building. you were embarrassed by how quickly it had come. but you had been waiting so long for him to touch you like this, you couldn’t help it. he could feel you fluttering around his fingers. "are you going to cum?" he whispered against your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses, his teeth nibbling.

"yes.. yes fuck." you panted.

"go ahead, baby. let go."

and you did, you clamped down on his fingers, his name falling from your lips as your body shook.

he had been fantasizing about you moaning his name like that for so long now that it took everything in him not to bust right then. he took a deep breath, pulling his fingers out of you. you watched as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, your pussy dripping and pulsing, begging for more. he leaned over the side of the bed and fished a condom out of his pants pocket.

"are you ready?" he asked, holding the condom up.

"yes please." you said, breathless.

"ooh so polite." he teased, giggling as he tore the foil pack open. you watched as he pumped himself a few times, precum leaking from his swollen tip, before sliding the condom down his length. he leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you softly. "remember, we can stop at any time. just tell me. okay?"

"i don’t want to stop." you said, desperate. "please don’t stop."

he smiled. "i won’t unless you tell me to." he knelt in front of you, his hands on your knees, spreading your legs. he lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing the tip in. you gasped and his head fell back, his mouth open. he slowly inched his way inside, giving you time to adjust. you whined under him, your eyes squeezing shut at the stretch. "i know, baby. i know." he said. "you’re doing so good." once you felt his thighs on the back of yours, he stilled. letting you properly adjust to his size. he could feel you pulsing around him, his cock begging to cum. "i’m gonna move now, okay?"

you nodded frantically. "yes. yes please, please."

he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, his pace increasing with each thrust. he wasn’t going to last much longer. he knew that. "fuck— baby you feel so g—good." he stuttered. his hands were digging into your hips as he pumped into you. his mouth open, his eyebrows scrunched together, his hair sticking to his forehead. "are you doing okay?"

"fuck yes.." you gasped. "gonna— gonna cum."

he could feel you squeezing around him. he fell down on to his elbows, his arms caging your head, his panting breath in your ear. he continued pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds filling the room. "cum with m-me baby." he said. "fuck- fuck-"

you squeezed him tighter as your orgasm washed over you, you vision going dark. his thrusts got sloppy and then stopped all together as he spilled into the condom. he collapsed next to you, his panting matching your own. he lazily kissed your jaw and your shoulder. "i love you.." he said.

you froze.

"shit- sorry." he said. "i- i didn’t mean to ruin the moment.. it slipped out."

you turned to face him, his brown eyes looking worried. "i love you too.."

his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly back and forth. "really? you’re not just saying that because your overcome with emotion right now?"

you shook your head no. "i’ve been in love with you for a while now.." you confessed.

he chuckled. "i’ve been in love with you for a while. guess we were both too scared to say anything."

you nodded, feeling blissfully happy. you nuzzled into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"are you okay?" he asked. "was that.. okay?"

"i feel amazing." you said, your voice muffled by his chest. "i’m glad i waited for someone i truly love."

"gahh my heart." he said, squeezing you tighter,

[carnelianly]

hi bae i recently followed you and i love every single thing you’ve posted,,, idk if this is a safe space but… like hitting art… him letting you and telling you he loves you and kissing you after

omg this is definitely a safe space babe let’s talk about this!!

hi this is my public service announcement that this is not a healthy relationship dynamic and you not ever put your hands on your partner. that is not okay irl unless there is expressed consent. this is also a very romanticized depiction and theoretically there should be more discussion and communication okay okay, end scene and with that out the way->

the first time you hit art being during an argument. you slap him after he says something a little too provocative, because art’s always been the type to say things to try and get under your skin when he’s mad. like he’s trying to get you to react and be the bad guy, stoop to his level.

but you slap him for saying something just a little bit too out of line, and the whole argument comes to a screeching halt as he stumbles back, holding his cheek in his hand as he looks down at the floor, and then back up at you in fear. he’s petrified.

and you just look baffled with yourself, not even realizing that was something you were capable of. you look down at your hands, like you didn’t know they could do that, and then back up at him.

he gulps. he thinks he’s in for it. but there also a weird feeling he can’t quite place. there’s that rush of adrenaline he got from the hit, and that bubble of shame welling up in his stomach.

he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but it kinda felt good to watch you lose your temper, for you to break and fall from that pedestal he puts you on, and to see you for what you are. and you look hot when you’re angry. for a good second there he thought you were gonna kill him, and it was horrifying, sure, but.. god, is he getting hard?

he’s definitely lightheaded, standing there completely still, as if if he didn’t move, you wouldn’t notice that he’s getting turned on from the fact that you just hit him. you slapped him. you hurt him, god it stung so bad, why is he so fucking turned on from it?

“art?” you murmur, not wanting to cross the distance yet, “i… i’m so sorry, i.. can i get closer and take a look?” you sound unsure, tense, like you’re afraid that he’s upset at you. of course you’re worried, but he can’t help that it’s a hit to his heart. you’re worried that you’ve just ruined everything and he’s biting his lip trying to keep in the horniness.

he nods at your question, and you come closer, tentatively reaching out to pet his cheek, “oh.. oh baby, i’m so so sorry, i.. i really didn’t mean to do this. that doesn’t change what i did, but—“

“hey,” he cuts you off, trying to ease your nerves, “i���m not mad at you. we’re okay. you’re okay. it didn’t hurt that bad, just for a second there it stung.” and you sigh, closing your eyes.

art never told you how hard he came jerking off in the shower that night. he couldn’t have asked for sex right then and there, you were so frazzled and distracted and it wasn’t the right time, but thinking about how mad you looked for him going until he came so hard he was seeing stars.

a couple weeks later you’re making out with him on the couch, lips on his, straddling his lap, before he gasps out, “slap me,” his words move past his lips in a daze, he doesn’t even realize he said them until it’s too late.

you pull back, brows furrowed, “…what? uhm.. art, if this is some kinda joke—”

“no, baby, i.. i mean it.. please hit me, like last time. it was so hot..” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your neck delicately, “please, baby.”

and he eventually gets you to oblige, a good amount of begging usually works on you. so you slap him again, and he moans this time, surprising you both, but there’s something so hot about how his face contorts into pleasure when you slap him.

you lean back in to keep making out with him, and your hand brushes his cheek sweetly, as if apologizing, but he doesn’t need that. he needs you to hit him again and again until he gets dizzy.

and this begins the cycle of passionate make out sessions being routinely interrupted with a slap on his cheek or some other form of pain like your nails digging into his skin, carving moons into him.

and every time, without a doubt, he looks up at you with the most pleasure-filled look in his eyes and he mouth hanging open as he smiles slightly, whispering, “i love you,” even as his skin tingles from the aftermath. and when you lean back in to kiss him, gripping his face roughly, especially right over the sensitive skin you slapped, he knows you love him too.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Back to Here - No Love Lost One Shot

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: One-shot request from the amazing @afroslacks! Title from Shade of Yellow by Griff

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary/Warnings: Takes place in Chapter 14. We once again face the horny fluff.

When you’d told Ben you were okay with him touching you in front of everyone, your exact phrasing was as long as you’re not gross. You’re absolutely positive he’d heard you as well, because he’d rolled his eyes before kissing the words out of your mouth.

But the man doesn’t listen. On purpose. You know it’s on purpose, because usually he’ll grunt and grumble but do what you tell him, and right now he’s not even pretending to remember.

What’s annoying is that you’re not even that mad about it. What’s more annoying is that he knows you’re not mad about it, because he’s not even worried about you making him stop. Ben never pushes your lines to tries try see if he can make you budge, because he knows you won’t and he’ll get in trouble. But that also means he’s impossibly good at knowing what lines aren’t real. What things you tell him to do that you say because sometimes you just say stuff. Sometimes you’re just trying to pretend that you’re not always thirsty for him, don’t always want him at your side.

And the asshole has you figured out. He knows that when you say we’re going to team dinners every night you mean it, but when you say play nice with everyone you’re talking about everyone except Butcher. Ben knows that if you tell him clean up after yourself you’re serious, because that’s the start of it. Ben cleans up once and now, months later, you somehow trust him with your life and every part of you he’ll take. He also knows if you tell him we need to get out of bed he can just hold you tighter and you’ll immediately give in with a sigh.

He knows when you say not everything, not yet it’s important that he listens. That he can take everything else he wants except that, and he does. Ben touches you everywhere you’ll let him, but waits for you to give him the clear to take more.

He knows that when you said don’t be gross you just meant don’t make me visibly horny in front of everyone. Don’t make me grind into you or pin me on top of the table. 

And he is walking that line very precariously.

“Bloody fuckin hell,” Butcher mutters, and you can feel his glare from across the table. “You twats can’t keep it in your pants for one hour? Some of us are tryin to eat.”

“They are still in their pants,” Frenchie’s words are muffled from a mouthful of pasta. “And I am eating just fine.”

“That’s cause you’re a fuckin pervert, Mate.” Butcher snaps. “I didn’t come here to see two supes neckin like teenagers. I came here because Hughie gets all bloody puppy faced when I don’t.”

“You promised-“

Butcher cuts Hughie off with a scoff. “I’m here, ain’t I? And I would appreciate it if I could fuckin eat my shitty ass spaghetti without worryin that Soldier Boy’s gonna cum all over the table!”

A chorus of groans echoes through the room, and it’s almost enough to make you push Ben away.

Almost. But he drops his mouth to your neck, pulls you closer in his side, and you decide you can find a way to live with yourself.

You’re starting to worry that he can read your mind. Because before that brief hesitation even fades, Ben sucks the skin at the base of your throat once—sloppy and wet—and pulls away. You’re grateful, half because you can bury your flushed face in his shoulder as he gives Butcher a lazy grin, and half because you were getting dangerously close to climbing on top of him.

“It’s not our fault all you pussies have blue balls.” Ben drawls, and you kick him under the table, glaring up at his stupid, smug, handsome face.

Don’t be an ass.

He rolls his eyes. They’re being fucking prudes.

Benjamin.

“You two care to have this conversation out loud?” You turn to see MM looking at you with a bored expression. He’s never really pissed about this anymore, and you think he just gave up on being disgusted. He doesn’t like it, but he’s not mad. It’s honestly more than you could ask for.

“No.”

You whack Ben’s arm. “Sorry. We’ll stop.”

Ben scoffs, and hunches over his plate. His arm over your shoulders drops down, tugging you into his side so you can only move your hands—everything past that trapped against his body—and you don’t care. He’s touching you, and he’s warm, and you can feel his annoyance but it’s nothing compared to his desire. It’s nothing compared to the affection you can feel rush through him when you give him a smile, even if he just grunts and glares at his pasta like it’s the one that cock-blocked him.

You know it’s a lie. You might not lie to Ben, but you lie a lot to your team. You lie to Hughie when you say you like certain Billy Joel songs because you don’t want him to gape at you and try to convince you otherwise. You lie to Frenchie when you say you’d love nothing more than to hear about his latest supe-killing weapon, because he gets really excited—it’s kind of adorable—and sometimes it’s actually pretty interesting. You lie to Annie when she picks you up for lunch and asks—every time without fail—what’s going on between you and Ben. You say it’s complicated, but it’s not. It’s actually really simple: You want Ben more than you’ve ever wanted anything and he wants you but not like that, just as a friend he can fuck. And that kills you a little, so you’re trapped in this limbo where Ben can almost make you moan at the dinner table—but you won’t let him just carry you back to your bed and make you scream and fall apart under him—and Annie can give her a look that tells you she knows. She knows you won’t stop doing this. There won’t be more tonight, because Butcher’s still glaring at you and Hughie’s whole face looks like a tomato, but tomorrow the exact same thing will almost certainly happen. Ben will kiss you once, innocently enough if you’d only seen it in passing, and you’ll taste him, you'll feel the want pounding in his chest, and immediately pull him closer. The absolute fucking asshole always anticipates you keeping yourself against him—he plans on it—and his arm will immediately move over your shoulders, hand reaching your jaw to angle your head where he wants it. And then he’ll go and go and go until someone coughs—Hughie or Annie—or makes a remark—Butcher or MM—and he finds whatever line you have for the day. Then he’ll pull back and you have to pretend you’re fine with it. Like your pouting is because he’s being cocky and annoying and not because you wish he would pick you up and lay you on the table. 

It’ll happen the after as well, then again after that, then every night until Butcher either shoots one of you or you figure out a way to just attach Ben to you forever. 

End Note: They really can make any situation horny. Also if you've noticed I'm re-using gifs, yeah :( I am. Please sign my petition to make Jensen Ackles just do stuff in character so we can have more gifs.

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[batchilla]

The most married divorced couple - Chapter 4 - Coffee and Custody

Years of well honed instincts through gruelling training had Jason as a perpetually light sleeper. A perpetually light sleeper who knew, even in his sleep, that he was being watched. 

He opens one eye, slowly sitting up as he takes in his surroundings - his wife’s… his ex wife's penthouse apartment. Well, that told him who was watching him at least. Sure enough, peering at him from behind the furthest arm of the couch he’d spent the night on is a tell-tale mess of curls so like his own - and Mary comes scrambling, not around the couch, but up to sit on the arm. “DAD!” 

Every time. Every time, that single word reminds him that there is in fact good in the world, and that his baby girl might just be the epitome of that. She all but tackles him into a cuddle. “You're here!”

He tries not to wince. He doesn’t ever want her to hug him less enthusiastically - but last night hadn’t gone well, and becoming climbing equipment for his daughter did not exactly help his recovery. 

Jason hugs her tight “Hi baby.” he says, his head resting on hers.

“Mm not a baby.” she grumbles “are you stayin’ for breakfast?”

“If mum says yes.” He says, part of him feeling dirty over the manipulative tactic - but the truth of the matter always was that Mary had a higher success rate in campaigning for him to stay then he did. Something about those adorable little eyes, he suspects. Mary hms, tucking her head against her shoulder. 

“M’ glad you came Dad. I don’t want Mr Brett to be my new dad.” Fucking what? Part of him wanted to resort to old methods on this ‘Mr Brett’ with extreme prejudice. For sniffing around his wife and daughter, and for trying to take what should have still been his. 

“What's that now baby?” he says, trying to keep the growing emotions that were making him feel like he was on fire. She didn’t need to know about any of that. 

“Mr Brett, he walks me to school sometimes cus I’m best friends with Jaxon and Riley and Kyle, and sometimes Mum walks me with them. They say its like a ‘carpool’ but cars don’t go to the pool, and the other day he and mummy went for a playdate while I was at grandpa Bruce’s and then Mum was asking how I felt about Mr Brett and I said he was so nice but that I don’t want a new dad and then she turned on baby shark and I got distracted.”  He takes a deep breath. He can’t get mad in front of Mary. Another deep breath. He realistically can’t get mad at all. He knows that. He had been divorced from his wife for four years. She was allowed to seek out … companionship. Had he? No. Did it feel akin to a betrayal? He knew it shouldn’t - but it did. She didn’t need to be lonely - and he didn’t want her to be. But he did hope that he’d somehow end up being the solution, not this fucking ‘Mr Brett’ asshole. Even then - companionship was one thing, but a relationship serious enough she’d mention it to Mary?

“Well, I’m sure he’s… nice, if your Mum likes him.”

“Mhm. Maybe you can say hi when he comes to get me for school.” “Speaking of school!” His wife's voice sounds from her doorway, loud enough to tell him she’d heard enough of that to panic slightly. “Mary, get dressed, you’ll be late.” 

Mary reluctantly separates from the hug, dragging her feet dramatically “Okay mum. Even though Dad’s here and he NEVER is, school happens every day and is super boring.”

“Nice try bubba.” she says, folding her arms and shaking her head. The second their child shuts the door - still loudly complaining about how unfair it all was, which in Jason’s opinion was psychological warfare, which his ex wife seemed somehow immune to, Jason turns to her. “We need to talk.”

She sighs “I guess we do. But not in front of Mary.” She runs a hand through her hair. “She’ll have eggs and toast soldiers - you want some?”

“Sure,” he says, trying to sound less bitter than he feels as he watches her head to the kitchen.

“So, Brett…” He says, following her to the kitchen and grabbing the bread and putting it in the toaster.

“Charles Brett.” you clarified.

Jason had to physically restrain himself from laughing. “Charles Brett? Those are both first names. You’ve replaced me with a man with a first name for a last name.”

“I haven’t REPLACED you, you LEFT!” She says, indignant furry in her eyes as she whips around to face him, stove at her back. Jason felt his blood boil. Yes, he’d left, but he hadn’t wanted to!

“And then you wouldn’t let me come BACK!” he counters, trying to keep his voice level, but not managing it. 

“BECAUSE YOU WERE RIGHT TO LEAVE!” She yells, tears in her eyes. 

“you fighting?” Mary asks, opening her bedroom door, tugging at the tie of her Gotham academy uniform as if it had personally offended her.

  “No sweetie.” they say in unison, as they shoot her reassuring smiles.

It doesn’t work.

She regards you both suspiciously, and takes her toast and eggs “please don’t fight. Dad’s never here and mum always cries when you leave so please don’t fight now.” “What?”

“Please don’t fight. Dad’s never here and mum always gets sad when you leave so please don’t fight now.”

“What?” Jason asks, glancing from Mary to you. You were proud that you’d raised an honest, headstrong young lady who had no hesitation speaking her mind. You did sometimes, such as right now, wish she did it a little less often around Jason. Jason who was now looking at you with a face you hated for how little you could read. He used to be an open book to her. Mary pulls herself onto the chair at the kitchen bench and dips her toast into her egg. “We got two names.” she points out to Jason. “Todd’s a boy's name.”

You sigh, and sip your coffee. She’d heard all of it. How lovely. 

Your baby girl looks at you, her hair in an attempt of a ponytail, her uniform slightly overlarge still, being early in the school year, both making her look so, so tiny. “What did dad mean? That you wouldn’t let him come back?”

You feel like you're falling. Luckily, there’s no amount of hurt, upset, or angry that Jason could be that would mean he wouldn’t come to your aid. “See cherub… Daddy didn’t mean that.” He says, grabbing her shoulder gently.

“I did… Well, I’m sure someone at school might’ve said, or the news… Marriage is supposed to be a promise to love each other forever … and I broke that promise.” Jason takes a deep breath.

 “What I did hurt your mum. She hasn’t forgiven me. Maybe she won’t ever. She doesn’t have to.” He shakes his head. “I said what I said because I was upset, but… It’s not her fault. It’s mine.”

You offer him an awkward, tight smile. “It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you baby girl. Just that … being married wasn’t the best option for us anymore.”

“...” Mary leans into her Dads side, her face solemn and thoughtful. You have to avert your gaze from the pair, lest you start crying - or worse - forgive him. 

“Do you still love mum?” she asks quietly, and Jason opens his mouth, hesitating for a second - which saves him from needing to answer the question. Only to make the situation a million times worse for you. Jason looks to the door. “Brett?” he asks, addressing you, but his gaze not leaving the door, with a look in his eyes that reminds you of darker days. “Brett.” You confirm, taking a deep breath as you move towards the door. “You packed M?”

“Yeah Mum,” she says, grabbing her backpack and shrugging it on, wrapping her arms around Jason’s waist in a goodbye hug. 

“See ya soon Dad?”

“...Yeah, baby. Really soon. Promise.” He says, ruffling her hair. 

You open the door, hoping to do this quickly, before things get even more uncomfortable. Charles Brett is a shorter man, with brown hair, brown eyes, forever slightly unkempt and a had perpetually tired look in his eyes from being a single father of three. But he has a kind smile, and you like him. He’s … a good man. He’s not Jason, but then again no one is. 

“Charles, Hi.” You say, leaning against the door to bar entrance. Normally you’d invite him in, have coffee or let the kids watch a episode of bluey while you chatted if the morning was running on schedule. 

He says your name, but catches your discomfort before he says anything more, and his gaze moves past you, looking for its source - and he finds it.

“Oh, Hello - Jason, yes? The ex husband?” He asks, pretending not to know who he was, as if he hadn’t seen the many magazines and heard the gossip surrounding his incredibly public, if staged, infidelity. As if Jason, in his need to convince Roman you meant nothing, hadn’t publicly called you a bitch. Jason doesn’t seem to remember that at this moment, and you watch as he puffs up his chest in rage. 

“Yeah. You have an issue with that?” he asks, moving to stand behind you.

“And if I do—-”

“Not. In. Front. Of. The. Kids.” You interject, before it can go too far. 

“Have a good day at school sweetie.” You say, kissing the crown of Mary’s head, giving Charles an apologetic smile, and all but slamming the door and turning to Jason. 

“He’s a good man.” You growl. Because he is. And because Mary needs a positive male influence, and Jason hasn’t been able to be that. And because you are a little worried that Jason is going to use his alter ego to run him off. 

“He’s sniffing around where he doesn’t belong.” Jason counters, stepping forward. You step back, and feel the door knob press against your spine. 

“He belongs here if I want him here.” You reply, refusing to be intimidated. “Yeah, well he doesn’t get to be my kids fucking dad! I’m her dad!” You cut your own angry response short “what? We’ve been on two dates. No one is becoming a dad to our daughter?!” “That’s not what she said” Jason says, folding his arms. “Mary got ‘married’ twice last week at recess and last I checked had two boyfriends and a girlfriend.” You roll your eyes. “She is not the leading expert in how adult relationships work.” Jason takes a deep breath. “So it’s not… serious?” You shrug. “It’s not … Look. We’re adults. We both have kids. We don’t have a lot of time for casual flings, and the kids get along so need to be protected. We are taking it seriously, but it’s early days.” He nods slightly, “I’m having bab’s look into him.” You close your eyes and exhale. “Jay…” “I won’t do anything unless I find something substantial.” he reluctantly promises. “But I don’t take chances when it comes to you.” You feel his presence loom closer despite your eyes being closed. You open them to see your ex husband’s hand lingering in the air a few centimetres from your shoulder, his eyes sad and longing as he stands before you. “Is he good to you?” He asks, the anger gone from his voice. “Can you… see a future with him?” “Why does it matter to you?” You ask. It’s mostly rhetorical. You know why, and really what you mean to ask without saying it in as many words… is if Jason feels he has any right to intervene if his search finds anything more serious than a questionable browser history.

“Why does it matter to you?” The words feel wrong against his very ears. His tenuous grasp on the cool facade he’d put up, which had almost begun to take a true effect, with those six words is utterly shattered. He feels his heart pounding, too fast, too hard, too angry. The pit changed him, in many ways. The anger had always been there. The pit had made it worse. He’d never once take it out on you. He’d sooner die. But it exists in him, clawing like a beast against the inside of his ribs. Why does it matter? Why does it FUCKING MATTER? It screams, it throws itself against his skin, it burns his eyes and boils in his blood. How can you not understand how deeply he loves you? How can you not understand that he’d destroy anything that wished you or Mary harm and delight in it? That if you hadn’t been in his life back then, he’d surely be on a very different path? How do you not understand? He turns away, tugging a hand through his hair, he cannot look at her in this moment, cannot meet those beautiful eyes, can’t bear to see the face he adores above all others contorted by anger. “It matters to me because I still fucking love you.” He says through gritted teeth, through the shame, the rage, and the hurt. “And because I know you know that,” He continues, stepping further back to pace the apartment - the home - that he had once shared with you. He hears her move across the hardwood towards him. Feels a hand on his arm. “Jason…” She says quietly, as if to soothe a wounded beast - and he wishes it didn’t work as well as it did. He wishes he didn’t feel like a frightened, pained, hissing beast. He pushes her away. Not aggressively - but a firm, nonverbal denial. “Roman fucked with our kid. I don’t regret what we did as a result. But love, he’s been in the ground for years. I know that it could happen again… But I don’t want to keep missing my kids' childhood because of that fear. If her safety costs us… then so be it. But I don’t accept that it will. I refuse. The only fucking reason I kept these-”

 He holds up the rings on the cord around his neck “Is to put yours back on your fucking finger one day.” He sits at the bench, his hands in his pockets so you can’t see his knuckles go white. So you can’t see his pain, or how bad what he is about to do scares him. “I don’t ever want to fight you. You know that, right?” He looks at you, and he hopes that whoever or whatever is out there he doesn’t sound as sad as he feels. He looks at her, his friend, his daughter's mother, his ex wife who he’d never truly seen as an ex anything, and he sees a woman who’s hurting as he is, but while he sees the solution to their pain as recovery of what was, she sees the solution as acceptance. She cannot help him. He cannot help her. But, together, perhaps, they can help their daughter. “I want you to know this isn’t just because of Brett. Though hearing Mary talk about a new dad did light a fire under my ass. I want custody. Shared, I mean.” He puts his head in his hands, elbows on the kitchen counter. “I’ll be asking for 50/50. Please.” He looks at her through his fingers. “We make a good team. Don’t make this be ugly.” She sighs, sad and tired and hurting. “I think we’re both a little too charged to talk about that right now. Can we have coffee in a few days?” He nods. “Yeah. Yeah that works for me. I uh… I’ll call Alfred to send a car round for me… and you can text me the details?”

A week later, you find yourself sitting in the back of a coffee shop, waiting for Jason to return with your drinks. You try not to dwell on the fact that despite not having asked, you knew he didn’t need to to know your order even after all this time.  You shuffle the papers of notes you’d had your lawyer look over. True, you trusted him. You thought he’d be a good father. You’d still stayed divorced for a reason. “I have concerns.” You say ternsly as he takes the seat across from you. He’s cleaned up. You can’t focus on that. You have a little girl who needs to come first right now - and you take a breath to remind yourself that she’s just as important to Jason. “Figures.” He says, but his tone is lighthearted. “Part of me just hates the idea of seeing her less.” You admit. He just nods, without judgement, without making the point that he knows what that’s like, simply letting you speak for the moment. “And it’s not because I like having her more than you, but because… I cried when she went on her first sleepover and she’s my baby.” You continue, picking at the napkin dispenser absentmindedly. “But beyond that there are logistical concerns as well. I know your … various residences…” safehouses. 

“Are safe. But moving as often as you do…” At least twice a week as a safety precaution.

“isn’t ideal for obvious reasons. Not to mention… She’s smart. She’s smart and she’s nosey.” Jason sips his coffee “her father’s daughter” “Nosey maybe. Smart? Debatable.” He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “I see your point though. We don’t want her to find out about the families… extracurricular activities.” You sip your drink. Sure enough, he’d remembered your order. Damn him and his perfect memory and his perfect face. “I’ve put some thought into it.” He reassures, and you nearly snort. Some thought? Knowing Jason, knowing his family? Several hours of thought had gone into any decision they deemed remotely important. You’d attended meetings, essentially war councils, while you were still married about the most minor aspects of their cover. “With my … schedule, 50/50 won’t be possible without her knowing everything, and she isn’t ready yet. But I want weekends, which I… we? Would spend at the manor. For stability.” “We?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. Jason gives you the same grin that had made you fall in love with him. Your stomach turns to a lepidopterarium. Damn him. “Well, last I checked Bruce said you were welcome at the manor whenever you wished… and if she was coming with you, it wouldn’t need to be a legal arrangement. Less of a paper trail is safer for Mary.” Jason says it matter of fact. Detached. Like he’s explaining a mission, not talking about his life, or his child’s. You know better than to fall for it. He runs a hand through his hair and winks at you. “Though if there needs to be a paper trail I’d prefer it be one leading to us again. I said some shit I shouldn’t have the other day. I apologise for that. You can keep seeing that Charles idiot - I was a prick about him, and his background check came back clean. But… I meant it. I fully intend to fight to get you back.” He stands to leave before you can process or argue. “So… See you Saturday morning?” he says not at all a genuine question, kissing your forehead and heading to the door, much like he might disappear after a one liner as Red Hood. You suspect it’s a strategy that works on cops or criminals - but is less impressive to his ex wife. All you can think to call after him is “SAYING THAT AND WALKING OFF ISN’T AS SLICK AS YOU THINK”

taglist @jasontoddproblems

@fic-over-cannon

@stormz369

[d4minnie]

Pls part 2 w happy ending w Satoru beating up Suguru😭😭🥺

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Afab!Reader

Warnings or idk??: Fluff, Angst & Violence

Wc: 658

I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING IN THIS LMFAO😭??

MINORS DNI

You had just woken up from that traumatic incident, curling into yourself and sobbing until your eyes burned from tears. After a while, you stumbled into the bathroom to clean up. The sight of the bed, still a mess from before, was a painful reminder of what had happened. You felt sick, horrible, and dirty. Dressed in your clothes, you were shocked to find Satoru in the living room. What’s he doing here? Does he know what happened? Of course he does—just look at how sad he is! What if he doesn’t believe me?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang as Satoru slammed his fist on the table. "So are you just going to keep quiet?"

"Liste—"

"Shut up! I can’t fucking believe you—on our bed, too?!"

He started to walk away, but you grabbed his arm. "N-no, wait! Please listen to me!"

"Shut the fuck up."

"You have to understand—he forced me!" You saw his ears perk up at that.

"Forced?"

"Yes! He barged in and grabbed me. I’m sorry! I should’ve fought back harder, but I swear it was never willingly!"

Satoru connected the dots—the open front door, the shattered glass, the sniffles he heard from your shared bedroom after you woke up. He felt like an idiot. How could he have believed Suguru without even asking you first?

"Oh my god." He hugged you tightly as you sobbed into his shoulder.

"I’m so sorry, Satoru." you cried.

"It’s not your fault. Don’t worry; I’ll fix this. Let’s watch a movie, and you can take a rest afterward, okay?"

"Okay."

He nodded and got up to go to the store for some snacks. As he was about to leave, you muttered something he barely heard.

"Hm?"

"Stay, please," you said, fiddling with the blanket draped over you.

"Sure." He settled back down next to you, and you both cuddled while watching the movie. No snacks mattered—just the comfort of being close to each other. After you fell asleep, Satoru gently laid you down before heading out to confront Suguru.

Satoru was fuming; his usual playful demeanor was gone. He banged on Suguru’s door, not even giving the half-awake Suguru a chance to speak Satoru's fist connected with Suguru's mouth, leaving him momentarily stunned. Before Suguru could react, Satoru punched him again, his fury overwhelming any rational thought. He kept pounding Suguru's face until his face looked unrecognisable, making it look like it had exploded.

"How CRACK! fucking SMACK! dare WHACK! you THWACK! touch CRUNCH! my CLANK! wife!" Satoru yelled, each punch showing how mad he was.

Suguru collapsed to the floor, unconscious in a pool of his own blood. Satoru stood over him, breathing heavily. He stomped on Suguru's head, causing more blood leak out of him before he spat on him and muttered "That was for my wife" and leaving him there.

[pepi1989]

Can you please type a story of reader smothering Ben in kisses to try get him to talk after a fake argument/mock fight? Like fighting after reader teasing him?

Too Many Kisses to Stay Mad - Ben Shelton

It started out as just harmless teasing, like it always does. We were sitting on the couch after dinner, the TV on in the background, when Ben launched into another story about his practice session. I couldn’t help myself, he was always talking about tennis, and I’d spent the whole meal listening to stats, strategies, and match recaps.

“So let me get this straight,” I interrupted, trying to keep a straight face. “You spent the entire afternoon talking to your coach about… the angle of your serve?”

Ben paused, mid-sentence, giving me a confused look. “Yeah? It’s important. The right angle can—”

“Oh, I know, it’s crucial,” I said, exaggerating my voice like some sort of sports commentator. “Because clearly, that’s the most fascinating thing in the world to talk about when you’re home, relaxing, with your girlfriend.”

His brow furrowed as he picked up on the teasing tone. “Are you making fun of me?”

I grinned, biting my lip. “Never,” I said with faux innocence, leaning in like I was about to be serious. “I’m just saying… maybe we could talk about something else for a change? Like how cute my new outfit is, or how amazing I am at Mario Kart.”

Ben’s lips twitched, fighting a smile. “I talk about other stuff.”

I gasped, dramatically clutching my chest. “Other stuff? Besides tennis? I’m shocked. Shocked, I tell you.”

His eyes narrowed, but the smirk was already forming. “Alright, alright. You’re asking for it.”

“Oh no,” I laughed, sliding away as he reached for me, “what are you gonna do? Lecture me about the importance of racket tension?”

Ben lunged, pinning me to the couch as I squirmed beneath him, laughing. “You better apologize before I go full tennis nerd on you.”

“Never!” I gasped between giggles, trying to wriggle free. “You’ll never make me!”

“Okay, fine,” he said, sitting up with a mock frown. “You’re on your own now. I’m not talking to you. Ever again.”

I sat up too, catching my breath and raising an eyebrow. “Really? Not talking to me, huh? You think you can keep that up?”

Ben crossed his arms and turned his face away dramatically. “I’m dead serious. You’re cut off.”

I tried to suppress a laugh, but the fake sulking was too much. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. It was just a little teasing.”

He remained silent, his face stoic, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitching. He was holding back a smile.

“Alright,” I said, standing up and brushing off my clothes. “I see how it is. Guess I’ll just have to… make you talk.”

His eyes darted towards me for a split second, his curiosity piqued, but he quickly looked away again. I took that as my cue.

Without warning, I jumped back onto the couch, tackling him into the cushions and smothering his face with kisses. “Kiss attack!” I declared, planting kisses all over his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, anywhere I could reach.

Ben squirmed beneath me, trying to fend me off, but he was laughing now, the mock argument completely forgotten. “Stop! You’re—this is cheating!”

“Not until you talk to me!” I said between kisses, refusing to let up. “Come on, just say something.”

He let out a muffled laugh, grabbing my wrists to try and stop me, but I was too quick. “Okay, okay!” he finally gasped, barely able to breathe from laughing. “You win!”

I sat back, grinning down at him, victorious. “That’s what I thought.”

Ben shook his head, his chest still heaving from laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” I said, leaning in close, my lips brushing against his, “you’re still with me.”

He sighed dramatically, but the affection in his eyes was undeniable. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

I moved to kiss him again, this time softer, slower, and he responded instantly, his hands slipping around my waist to pull me closer. For a moment, the teasing faded into something warmer, something more real. I could feel his heart racing beneath my palm as he deepened the kiss, and when we finally pulled away, he was smiling.

“You know,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, “you didn’t have to kiss me a hundred times to get me to talk.”

I shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. “I know. But where’s the fun in that?”

He chuckled, his hands still resting on my waist. “Fair point. But next time, I’m not letting you win so easily.”

“Oh, please,” I teased, leaning back with a playful smirk. “You couldn’t resist me if you tried.”

Ben tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Wanna bet?”

Before I could respond, he flipped us over, pinning me beneath him this time, his grin widening as I let out a surprised yelp. “Payback time,” he said, leaning in close, his voice low.

But instead of kissing me, he hovered just inches away, his breath warm against my skin. I waited, my heart racing, but he stayed right there, not moving.

“Ben,” I whispered, biting my lip. “You’re killing me here.”

“Am I?” he asked, his voice full of amusement. “I thought you wanted to talk.”

I rolled my eyes, my hands sliding up his chest. “Fine, let’s talk.”

He chuckled, finally closing the distance and kissing me again, this time with a little more intensity. His hands roamed over my sides, pulling me closer, and all thoughts of teasing and mock fights melted away.

When we eventually broke apart, both of us breathless, Ben rested his forehead against mine. “Okay, maybe you’re right,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I can’t resist you.”

“Told you,” I murmured, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “But you can keep trying. I don’t mind.”

[turtles-invoked]

I like to think that while Cas was waiting for Dean to drink his coffee in 13x6 they engaged in a bit of small talk…

“How are you, Dean,” Cas says as he sits back down in his seat and watches Sam and Jack leave.

Dean smiles into his cup and swallows another mouthful, “I’m good.”

“Are you?”

Dean breathes out, “yeah, man,” in genuine relief.

“Sam said you were… ‘going through it’,” he says using air quotes with his fingers.

Dean takes another mouthful and sits back in the couch, “well yeah… you died, Cas. Scorched wings, cold body, and all. You were dead. And mom had gone off into the alternate dimension, Crowley sacrificed himself for us, Lucifer was still alive, and Jack…” Dean rubs his eyes and pinches his nose and takes a moment before he continues, “I was the one who wrapped your body. I was the one to burn you. Of course I was going through it.”

Dean doesn’t make eye contact but he can see Castiel fidgeting in his seat. He can see how upset and uncomfortable he is, and Dean can’t watch it. So he sinks himself a little further into the couch and drinks his coffee until the mug is empty, but even then he pretends it isn’t so they don’t have to leave yet.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Dean can see Cas stand up and walk to the bench with the coffee pot and brings it over to the couch, sitting down next to Dean.

Dean feels his face flush as Cas holds out the pot, gesturing to fill his cup back up. Embarrassment floods through his cheeks as he realises Cas knew he was faking the last few sips.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly and places the empty pot on the table in front of them, “I’m sorry I left you.”

Dean shakes his head, “it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas says again, placing a warm and heavy hand on Dean’s arm.

Blood floods to his cheeks and warms his face so Dean hides it in his mug.

“You really don’t know how you woke up?” Dean asks.

Cas shakes his head, “I heard my name. Even the empty was confused. Angry… but confused.”

Dean frowns into his next mouthful, “and there was no one else?”

“There was nothing. It was so dark, I couldn’t see my hands in front of me. All I could think about was you and Sam and what you guys might have done to bring me back…” Cas gazes to his hands clasped together and resting in his lap.

“Im sorry we didn’t try,” Dean says quietly between them, “I really didn’t think we could. I mean- you were…” he trails off.

“I know,” Cas says, “I know. I’m not mad. I’m glad you didn’t do anything stupid,” he chuckles. And Dean does too.

“I nearly broke my hand punching a door” Dean laughs breathily.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says again, guilt painting his words.

“Don’t be. You’re here now. That’s all that matters,” Dean gives Cas the most genuine smile he could muster, and the relief on Cas’s face fills his heart with gratitude.

So Dean chugs the last few mouthfuls, claps Cas’s knee, and stands, “Well, I’ll get dressed and we’ll hit the road,” he says with a huff and walks to their room with a skip in his step as he eyes their uniforms for their cover. Man does he love cowboys.

[nutsackx]

Do you think for your mad scientist Au, Sodapop is okay with what Ponyboy did to Darry? How did he react? And also, Does Ponyboy ever regret his decision of reviving his friends? Why doesn’t he revive his parents? Does Ponyboy ever get caught by the police? Does Sodapop mess up on his job, and if he does how does Ponyboy react?

I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS THAT NEED ANSWERS.

I feel so corny writing this 🤤

Sodapop isn’t incredibly… sure what’s happening? I guess? Like he knows about the revivals and stuff, but he isn’t really big on details because it grosses him out. He’s aware that Darry’s a killer but he’s not aware that it’s not by choice. He was a lot like Darry where he wasn’t cool with it at all until Pony mentioned bringing their folks back.

Ponyboy does not regret reviving his friends at all. Even though they all hate him for it and constantly talk about wanting to die, he thinks he’s helping them. At first it was kinda of just ‘I’m going through some sort of psychosis and need closure” to “I’m a god I can bring people back from the dead, hallelujah’

And with his parents… however he revives them (I was thinking like the Re-Agent from Reanimator) only works on fresh bodies (I think Herbert went through that too, I haven’t seen the movie in a while). And obvi his parents died way before he figured it out becuase he’s not he wasn’t actually a scientist (lowk still isn’t, luck is on his side I guess).

The AU is set in like the 30s/40s, and if you know anything about asylums around that time they were HORRIFIC. Police already don't really care as long as he keeps the crazies locked away. The main people who think there’s something going on are like college students or activists, I guess?? And most of the time Soda’s able to sweet talk them into going away.

Also Soda is like easily the least coordinated when it comes to the Curtis’s. He messes up 24/7 (he’s the reason Dallas can escape so often, and more often than not causes Darry to have to go back out cus he dropped something), but Pony can’t really let him go because he thinks Soda’s gonna snitch.

And while Ponyboy still loves his brothers, he’s like lowkey a little crazy. He’s downright evil tbh. He defiantly has some sort of explosive dissorder, and when he gets mad he gets MAD.

also someone on Tiktok asked why Johnny’s got the blue eye. Realistically I’m just gonna say Darry snatched it from Bob because let’s be real he doesn’t need both. Also he can not see out of it or move it, it’s just kinda of cosmetic (though it’s absolutely disgusting and Johnny hates it)

anyway if anyone has anymore questions lemme know… this is kinda fun

I’m working on cherry and Marcia designs (they’re nurses btw), and maybe some of like Bob and Randy if I get bored

[inmyheaddd]

can i call you tonight? - xander hawthorne x reader

a/n: i adore autumn with my whole heart but i’m missing those carefree summer romance vibes soo bad 😖 wc: 1.8k warnings: kissing, mild language, verryyy fluffy ur teeth might fall out masterlist

the sun was just beginning to set, the sky looking like something out of a painting, and you and xander had spent the whole day at the beach together — swimming, laughing, and, of course, getting covered in sand. 

now, still giggling from the ‘sand ball’ fight you had with him earlier, you both stumbled toward the beach shower, desperate to wash the sand off of you.

the water came out freezing at first, eliciting a yelp from you as you stumbled back — in turn making xander laugh, before you adjusted the temperature perfectly to your liking.

which, according to xander, was: very, very, hot.

“are you trying to boil us alive?” his eyes were comically wide, furrowing his brows after he stood under it for half a second, jumping back with a shout. 

you simply stood under the shower head calmly, attempting to get the sand out of your hair.

you huffed a laugh through your nose, “xander, it’s not even that hot, i—“

“—were the hours under the scorching sun not enough? you also need to stand under water that’s practically a few degrees away from turning you into a boiled lobster?” he rambled on. 

atleast he was so chill and normal about the temperature, so very calmly expressing his dislike!  

you stifled a laugh as he continued, unbotheredly wringing water out of your hair as you watched him complain. “i’m just saying, there’s a fine line between a shower and a chemical peel.” he said, pointing at the shower with a shake of his head. 

“that water is hot enough to sterilize surgical instruments.” he crossed his arms over his bare chest, as you watched him watch you, a slightly confused furrow in your brows and intrigued smile growing on your face.

a slow grin grew on his face as he raked his eyes over you, taking in your slightly sunburned nose, wet hair, and bathing suit you had picked out with him a few weeks back. 

he lolled his head to the side before he spoke, “i’m sorry— why was i mad again?”

you laughed at his quick demeanor change, playfully rolling your eyes and sighing dramatically before making the temperature colder and motioning for him to step in.  “just get in, you big baby.”

“oh, thankyou very much, i appreciate your willingness.” he responded, bowing his head jokingly as he stepped under the water, his hands finding your lower back instantly. 

but of course, xander being xander, couldn’t just stand there like a regular person. 

no, he shook his head, like some sort of dog sending water droplets and little sand particles everywhere. 

“xander!” you squealed, shielding your face and taking a step back, but you couldn’t stop laughing. 

“oh my god— you’re so annoying!” you squeaked out, still laughing.

he chuckled, taking a step closer to you and placing his hands where they just were, eyes sparkling with mischief as water dripped down his hair. “and you’re so easy to annoy.”

he reached out, gently brushing sand off your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “that wasn’t funny.” you said, biting back a smile. 

it was funny, but he didn’t have to know that.

“i’m sorry,” he faux pouted at you. he didn’t sound sorry, in fact, he sounded a little amused. 

you felt your stomach do a little flip, but before you could say anything, his eyebrows raised like a lightbulb went off in his head, and he grabbed the shampoo bottle from your beach bag on the ledge. 

“here, let me do this right.” he turned to stand behind you, pouring an adequate amount into his hand and then started working his fingers into your scalp. 

you tried to turn your head to ask him what he was doing, but it did feel a little nice to stand there and feel his hands run through your hair. okay, maybe not just a little.

he gently guided your head back forward. "hold still," he said, his voice lower, but with a little hint of that teasing edge remaining. 

when he noticed you weren’t saying anything back, and that if anything you were feeling relaxed, he spoke again. 

“see, would you look at that?" he said softly, "i can be helpful too." 

you could practically hear the grin in his voice, but it was hard to focus on that with the way you felt like you were buzzing under his touch.

you hummed, “yeah, only when you want to be.” you let your eyes close for a moment, and then he spoke again.

“i want to be helpful with you all the time.” you could hear the fake pout in his voice, then it flipped completely, and you heard that grin in what he said next.

“i’d make an excellent stay at home husband for you, yeah?” he joked with his voice all breathy-like. 

“you wouldn’t have to worry about me complaining…” he trailed off, “you know, except about the shower temperature.”

you let out a little chuckle, and opened your mouth to remind him about the time he somehow burnt instant noodles, and that maybe being a stay-at-home husband wasn’t the right path. 

you didn’t get the chance to say anything, though, because he swiftly grabbed your shoulders and turned you around, standing you under the shower head. 

your eyelids immediately squeezed shut, squealing a little with your whole face scrunched up as the shampoo-y water ran down your hair.  you were careful not to get it in your eyes, laughing as xander stepped infront of you and gently moved your hair out of your face. 

you opened your eyes, still squinting a little as you looked up at him. “that also wasn’t funny.” you remarked. “not in the slightest.”

he quirked a brow up, looking like he was biting back a grin, “it wasn’t?” he asked, cocking his head to the side in question.

“no.” 

then a roguish smile started to spread on his face, and you began to deeply regret your words. 

“well then, would you like to see,” he paused for dramatic effect and raised his eyebrows, “something funny?”

you were the one biting back a smile now, taking a step back from xander as you shook your head, already anticipating what he was going to do. 

“…no.”

he rendered the step you took back obsolete as he stepped right on forward, his smile turning into a chuckle as you shook your head. 

there were about three things you were afraid of in this world, 1: a bug getting in your food and you eating it, 2: getting kidnapped and held hostage, and 3: xander blackwood hawthorne’s tickles. 

“xander, i was kidding, i swear.” you rambled with your voice dropping lower, trying to get out of this situation, but xander’s face only scrunched up in laughter as he gave you about 5 seconds to make your case.  

“you’re like, the funniest person i’ve ever met! you’re so charming and hilarious, and —“

your time was over, it seemed, because xander bent down and picked you up over his shoulder, his laughs increasing in volume as you squealed in the secluded beach. “xander! it was a joke, i promise! put me down!” 

as if he was on a quest to become even more annoying he began running to the beach beds, regardless of your protests which were now coming out more as laughs. 

he placed you on a beach bed breathlessly, his hands coming to cup your face as he basically climbed on top of you, then leant down to kiss you.

oh, you weren’t expecting that. 

granted, you were both still breathless, and the two of you were smiling and laughing against each other so much, that you weren’t sure whatever you were doing could be considered a kiss.

then it came. xander pulled back ever so slightly and his hands moved down and jabbed at your neck, then your sides, your arms, anywhere you were ticklish, and you were both equally a laughing wreck. 

you tried to peel his hands off of you as you writhed under him, repeating his name surely over 20 times in between giggles. 

after what seemed like forever, he stopped, putting his hands up in the air as he sat up, and your chest heaved as you caught your breath.

“now,” he said, “was that funny?” he raised an eyebrow, “choose your answer very wisely.” 

“fine,” you huffed, “it was a little funny.” 

his other brow joined the raised one at the top of his forehead, “that was not the wise  answer i thought of,” he muttered, as he slowly started put his hands back down towards you, your eyes darting between his face and his hands.

“okay. okay, yes!” you scrambled before he could literally attack you again, “i lied, it was funny, and not just a little.” 

his hands retreated, “brilliant. very wise answer,” he commented, “well done.” 

he brought his hands up to your jaw and only your jaw this time, cradling your face like he did earlier as he placed a short peck on your lips, but you pulled him in for a longer one. 

he smiled at that— you felt it, and he reciprocated the kiss 10x harder.  

 as he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, he murmured with his voice low. “question,”

“what is it?” you breathed out, still catching your breath. 

“does it genuinely annoy you when i tickle you like that?” he asked, his voice bare of any teasing, “don’t lie, please.” he added on. 

“besides, i can be very perceptive of micro-expressions, and i can feel your heartbeat against me right now.” 

you let out a little laugh, even though your heart was doing somersaults in that moment. xander was possibly  the most caring person you’d ever met —he was a deeply empathetic person underneath his rube goldberg obsessions and masks of humor he used so often.

“no,” you said truthfully, “i don’t actually get annoyed, i could never actually get annoyed at you. why?” 

you felt his breath hitch against your lips, a very un-xander like manner. “your micro-expressions and heart rate indicate you’re telling me the truth.” he muttered. 

how did he sound hot talking about micro expressions and heart rates?

then you realized, he was expertly dodging your question on “why?”.

“because it is the truth.” you muttered back, smiling a little as you watched him pull back too see your eyes better. 

he didn’t say anything after that— in lieu of words, he pressed another sweet kiss to your lips. he wasn’t one to expose his worries or be vulnerable very often, and you understood that. he’s opened before about people saying he’s ‘too much’ and how it sometimes gets to him, but in all honesty, you could never get enough of him.   

as you felt the warmth of his hands on your face and your lips moved across his in rhythm, a thought crossed your mind: 

if that’s what you get for telling him he was funny, you’d start telling him he’s a world class comedian now. 

tag list: @charsoamerican @ariabedumb @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary

@whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @bewitchingkisses @maybxlle

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[princebeomgyu]

maybe a hot take but i think hybe should just let txt write and produce their own music from now on because it’d be better

[alarrylarrie]

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[angelnumber27]

*he spilled my cup of paint water all over everything idk why I said he spilled watercolors I just woke up girls

I literally walked away for two minutes tops to make coffee and came back to his ass sitting on this water color palette and my painting open after spilling my watercolor water all over it

Look at that face. He knows he did something wrong hahahha