#Leon Cook

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

detriot become human lethan au...

[captainfairygodmother]

You know what I really love that should be explored in even more Merlin fanfics?

Immortal Leon. Like, you've just got Merlin over there sulking about while he waits for Arthur to return. Then there's just Leon, living his best immortal life, doing the most randomest shit known to mankind

[nyctophorum]

This death animation is sooooo peak like the spurt of blood over leon’s face and the way krauser slowly draws the knife back out??? Come on

[hades-in-bloom]

Al Dente

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: he might be of Italian descent, but he still can’t nail cooking pasta.

warnings & contents: assumed older Leon, but could be of any period; assumed age gap, but could be none; reader could be of any gender; fluff with attitude and smth that could be considered a prelude with grabbing and kisses; mentions of drinking; no pasta recipes, really, just stupid banter; a little bit of manhandling

a/n: am not Italian, so please let me know if I’ve committed any blasphemy. Also, this is one silly piece of writing because I’m de-stressing and can’t write anything serious, but am also obsessed with Leon tapping into his Italian descent. As always, proceed with caution and at your own risk; minors DNI! Masterlist

***

‘Oh, I swear…’ Leon mumbled, taking a look into the deep cylindrical pot that was cooking on the stove; the water boiling merrily. Kennedy sighed; he got distracted for a few minutes while taking a call from D.S.O.—which seemed enough for a batch of pasta to turn into goo.

Again.

Leon huffed out a bad word, lifted the pot from the heat, and dropped it straight into the sink without any attempt to retrieve its doughy contents. The man cracked open another beer bottle and took a sip, visibly consumed with heavy thoughts; the number of beers had perfectly correlated with the number of unsuccessfully cooked batches of pasta. Although Leon has never encouraged food waste, this time the big and scary D.S.O. agent refused to give up, steadily losing his sobriety with each try.

You watched him suffer for quite a while, half through the bottle of wine yourself—because grabbing popcorn would be too obvious and undoubtedly rude, although the show was getting more entertaining by the minute; Leon’s frustration was evident.

‘How’s it going?’ you hummed from behind his back. You did your best to hide your smirk.

Leon groaned. He knew you were having a laugh; who wouldn't in that situation, anyway.

‘I’d rather shoot a horde of zombies,’ Kennedy mumbled. He took another sip of his beer and hummed, assessing the situation. ‘Also, I'm running out of pasta.’

You were convinced he deserved the roast; however, his genuinely concerned facial expression made you chuckle.

‘Should we take a break?’ you tilted your head slightly, watching his reaction.

‘We?’ Leon raised his eyebrow, giving you a side-eye. ‘I am getting tortured. What exactly are you doing?’

You thought about it briefly; took a sip from your wine glass.

‘I guess I should be qualified as moral support?’ you assumed.

Leon scoffed, then couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He turned around, facing you; his eyes trained on your features then.

‘I bet you don’t know how to cook a proper al dente either.’

‘You bet?’ wine was your liquid courage, so you might have been too venturesome at that moment. Neither of you complained, though. The man of the hour was intrigued. ‘What if I were to cook you the nicest al dente pasta you’ve ever eaten, Kennedy?’

Scott snorted in a friendly manner and folded his arms over his chest.

‘Ever eaten is a bold claim, sweetheart,’ he teased, his smile growing wider. ‘My family were immigrants from Italy, you know that, right?’

You shrugged his comment off light-heartedly.

‘If I lose, I lose, right? And you could claim your prize,’ you smirked. Oh, you had no doubts he was interested.

His gaze bore into yours for a second; then his features relaxed, although you still could see his shoulders tense—you let it slip.

‘Alright, go forth and forward,’ he smirked; his stare spoke volumes. ‘I will start thinking of what you owe me in return when you screw it up.’

You quickly cleaned up the kitchen countertop, allowing clean water to boil one more in the cooking pot while you measured two portions of store-bought pasta.

Leon watched your actions over your shoulder before you felt his large palms on your hips.

‘Nicely done,’ he murmured from under your earlobe.

You knew he wouldn't be able to play fair; he wasn't big on losing, whether major or minor—and you cooking pasta al dente better than him, taking into account his heritage, was a below-the-belt insult to him. Thus, he didn't mind deploying desperate measures.

‘That’s cheating, Kennedy,’ you muttered, putting the batch of pasta into the pot.

‘I don't remember me touching you being against whatever rules,’ he hummed, placing his lips on your neck. Your heartbeat fastened. ‘Fairly, I don't remember us discussing any rules.’

‘You’ll regret it when I win,’ you claimed. Leon glanced into your pot once again. ‘A couple of minutes more…’ You hummed.

‘How do you know the perfect timing?’ he moaned into your ear. You smirked.

‘Who knows, maybe it would be awful…’ you teased, and he shook his head.

‘No, it won’t,’ Leon concluded quickly and, by lifting you up, grabbed you onto his shoulder. You squealed, losing the ground from under your feet, and clung onto his t-shirt from the back in an attempt to keep your balance.

‘Oh, you fiend!’ you watched him turn off the stove before dragging you into the bedroom. ‘That was our dinner!’

‘I think you're right—we should take a break; maybe, we could order pizza…’ he hummed. You groaned in response, helplessly hanging from his height, his hand holding you tight right under your asscheeks.

Leon let you slide from his shoulder onto the mattress in the bedroom, hovering over you in the next second. His lips barely touched yours when he smirked and watched you blush then.

‘…after I finish with the appetizer.’

[korncest]

RATE THE NEW PHONE THEME! 💋

[melancholygirl111]

[leon-on-the-froggy-chair]

i doodled serennedy in crop tops for my mental health

[ceofcatgirls]

//suggestive

Going to finally make a post about this bc its been haunting my mind for a good month or two at this point--

This is a brief-ish post about guns being used as a metaphor for masculinity, power, and potential stand-in for phallus imagery in the dollars trilogy. I'll also be speaking about these things from a general stand point too, but I'll try to focus on how and where they interconnect.

I doubt most ppl will read all of this but I have brainworms so I need to put this out somewhere .

I think a lot of these points can be said about Westerns in general, btw. Not just Leone movies. However I'll focus on the dollar trilogy because this is already too long and needs to have a focus.

Now, I'm sure masculinity will need no defining, but I'll briefly show what definition of phallic imagery I use;

(Yes I'll eventually tie all this to the homoeroticism present in the movies, with a slight feminist bent to this analysis)

(I want you to keep in mind throughout this post that guns are metaphoric stand ins for dicks lol, just so i dont have to keep repeating that all the time)

I think this definition is quite good as it incorporates the concept of power into itself, which imo is a must-have when discussing masculinity in artwork.

As expected, there is an undeniable connection between phallic imagery and masculinity, which is also tied to power. A lot of masculinity throughout human history has relied upon genitals (even if not completely) to assert itself, which in turn, would affect the power relations men and women have, but also between men themselves. After all, the patriarchy is dependent on gender, with the male gender having the upper hand. This would mean, within a patriarchal society, men with more masculinity have more power, so we can see how sexuality is so tied to the patriarchy also, and how men will inevitably compete.

I'll start with perhaps one of the most obvious examples of this from the trilogy; which also conveniently has phallic imagery, or phallic metaphors.

Specifically, I'll start with the first proper interaction Colonel Mortimer and Manco have in For a Few Dollars More

(I'll link the clip just in case)

I'll state the obvious first; this is obviously a competition to define who would have the most power (and thus upper hand) in their relationship. That's why neither character backs down, and why there is a tense animosity between the two. Of course its also more complicated than that; Manco, the youngest of the two, is obviously taking this more seriously and is the more antagonistic. Mortimer seems to just be entertaining him at times, whilst also trying to show that his years of experience can give him the upper hand. Its a perfect scene presenting power, age, experience, who the characters are, and how their relationship will be forward from this.

And of course, as any western, guns are used for this.

Perhaps it's the perfect genre for what Sergio Leone wanted to present. Guns are the perfect metaphor for a phallus; they display power, they display masculinity, and they even have the shape! They can define life or death, much like how male sexuality, and therefore a phallus, can define a man's position in the patriarchy.

The shootout ends in a draw, as both Mortimer and Manco are skilled with their guns. Their stand-off for power and dominance led to a standstill and an equilibrium between the two. This will then define their relationship, as they form a equal partnership.

(And of course, perhaps Mortimer was being kind to Manco and held back a bit. He did the same in the end of the movie, by letting him take all the rewards. To Mortimer, there is more to gunslinging than an attempt to assert masculinity. And the fact that he holds back in his competition with Manco presents a level of respect he has for him, which adds on to the already existing homoeroticism of two men using guns to assert their dominance onto each other. I'd even argue that's what makes the homoeroticism purposeful, in this movie's case.)

There are other examples of guns bring used to impose masculinity throughout For a Few Dollars More. That is the crux of every final duel after all. But Mortimer and El Indio don't have significant homoerotic undertones so I won't get into it.

My other favourite example of this occurance in the dollars trilogy, is in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.

It's a quick, small moment in a wider, longer scene. However I like how it gets across its message in a simple way.

It's the end of the scene where Angel Eyes forces a partnership onto Blondie.

I think it's important to mention how this is how Sergio Leone chose to end a scene where Angel Eyes and Blondie form a partnership. Its basically telling the viewer that Blondie consents to working with Angel Eyes. On a surface level, Blondie is sliding the gun to its holster to show that he's making peace with Angel Eyes. However, further introspection on the subtext also reveals other things.

For starters. The slow sliding in and the zoom in on the gun, with it becoming the centre point of the scene, easily becomes homoerotic (I don't think I need to explain how sexually suggestive it looks), but with it being seen as a sign of peace, it can also be seen as a sign of not only consent, but also submissiveness. Blondie here is admitting that he's under the thumb of Angel Eyes, and he can't do anything about it, not even with a gun. He can't challenge his power, nor his masculinity. The phallic imagery here only adds on to all of these points, for reasons mentioned previously.

Moving on from specific scenes, I'll mention something present throughout the movie that the definition I used above also mentions; cigars can also been stand-ins for phallic imagery, and masculinity.

Do I really have to mention how The Man With No Name is literally always having a cigar in his mouth ??? Its a very obvious oral fixation, one that Sergio Leone uses to his advantage.

Leone doesn't just use a cigar to make TMWNN look cool. The cigar, much like how a gun was used to represent Manco and Mortimer's, and Blondie's and Angel Eyes', relationships and partnerships, its also used to represent the relationship between Blondie and Tuco.

The scene where, imo, Blondie's and Tuco's relationship changes, is where Blondie offers Tuco a cigar after eavesdropping the conversation between Tuco and his brother.

And Tuco takes it, smokes it and grins!

Notably, Tuco's and Blondie's changing relationship is shown through a cigar rather than a gun, which is objectively significantly less violent, which sets them apart from the other relationships. There is also a closer contact between them, as in the other iterations of TMWNN never gave his gun to any ally of his, much less shared such a close contact as mouth-to-mouth.

The homoeroticism is rather obvious, and in this cade, it's present without power but still with phallic imagery.

(Another notable example was, if my memory serves correctly, in a Fistful of Dollars, Joe lights up a cigar for Ramone. But I won't mention that much since I could be confusing this for another movie, but if it did happen, it's also another scene packed with symbolism, and quite the opposite to Tuco's and Blondie's cigar scene).

Continuing to speak more generally, there are often focus and zoom ins on the guns in the movies. This peaks at the final Mexican standoff in GBU, where the guns are in their holsters and belts. Its natural that they'd be near their crotches too, but that only emphasises the masculinity, power and phallic imagery already present in the movie (as well as tension in the scene).

It comes with no surprise when Blondie chose Angel Eyes to shoot at. After all, Tuco and he had already made peace with each other. The only true masculine competition was between Angel Eyes and Blondie + Tuco.

There are also scenes where TMWNN shows off his skills with his gun; displaying his masculinity again through phallic imagery, so it's no wonder he went to become a figure of masculinity.

There is also the scene where Tuco acquires a new gun after being abandoned by Blondie. That represents what was mentioned previously; how men often fight for power. In this case Blondie takes away Tuco's power and masculinity by humiliating him in a desert. Tuco acquiring a new, polished and refined gun is his way of reclaiming his masculinity after Blondie emasculated him.

I won't speak much about A Fistful of Dollars, because the relationship between Joe and Ramone isn't as developed as the other relationships in the other movies. But it's also worth noting how a focal point in the final duel includes Joe's pistol and Ramone's supposedly stronger gun.

"When a man with a .45 meets a man with a rifle, you said the man with the pistol is a dead man. Let's see if that's true. Go ahead, load up and shoot."

In here, Joe reclaims his masculinity through a final duel. I wish the movie had been longer so I could connect potential homoeroticism to this scene like I did with the other examples, but I think it's a good scene, so I mentioned it nonetheless.

Sergio Leone movies are very much centred around men. That's generally how westerns work, too. But I think it's interesting, as it adds aligns with the analysis that men uphold the patriarchy between themselves, and this is even more true with Leone movies as they include little to no women (whereas many westerns have at least one or two), so most interactions are between men.

I'm not suggesting Sergio Leone intended all this. I do think the homoeroticism, phallic imagery and masculinity is purposeful. He was a Marxist, so perhaps the feminist angle to all this was also purposeful, but I don't think that's the case. Much like his contemporaries, Leone focused on class analysis when critiquing power structures (this mostly in his other movies), so the patriarchal angle was perhaps unintentional. I like to give the benefit of the doubt to artists when analysing their art, though, so I'm always happy to be proven wrong.

As I said. This is way too long and no one will probably read all of it. There are far more examples but I won't include every bc this is already a long asf post.

What the conclusion? I need to stop thinking about gay people!!!!!!!!!

A look into how my braincells look whenever I think about these homos a bit too much;

And this is how I felt writing this post:

And the thing is there's so much more I can say but I don't wanna make this too long esp since this is me ranting more than a proper analysis but jfc Leone always made sure to make his movies so damn gay it's actually insane

[justkillingthyme]

It’s more than just the eyes

[robinzombiezz]

Day one of serrenedy week except I’m super lazy and in artblock rn XC

[ovaryacted]

NOW HOLD ON, HOLD ON, HOLD ON, YOURE ONTO SOMETHING WITH BRAT LEON

I know it sounds strange to think of Leon as a brat because he's a grown-ass man and it seems taboo. But when you're a heavy switch who is a brat when they're a sub and who's into femdom and brat taming (aka me) you'd be surprised how common it can be when the brattiness is subtle. But let me walk you through my thought process real quick.

Leon has always been put in the position of being dominant as a means of survival. He had to prove to other people that he can be taken seriously, that he isn't just a pretty face but also has a brain and skills that don't leave him out to be seen as a piece of meat. At least past RE2, he'd have to force himself to be macho especially when he's forced into military service despite being the complete opposite internally.

So, when he's able to have a safe space to explore those things, he'll be more comfortable being submissive. Just turning his brain off and letting someone else be in charge so it isn't him calling the shots for once. The thing is, there will be times when you'd have to fight him to be submissive because he's stubborn and he likes getting on your nerves.

It'll start off with talking back, with the constant sarcastic one-liners he'll say mid-conversation. Other times, he'll interrupt you, or question you more often just to see the way your jaw will tighten and your eye will twitch. He does it on purpose, because he knows what he's signing himself up for in the end. He wants the punishment and wants to see you dom him completely.

"You really want to talk to me like that?", you'd tell him as a warning, and he'd only smirk. "What? I can't talk to you now?", Leon would reply back, voice dripping in sarcasm, and you hate it.

If you command him to do something, he'll either do it slowly or in the way you didn't specify, which I think is the obvious answer.

"Did I say you could touch yourself?", you yanked his head from where he currently sucked at your pussy, seeing the sneaky hand jerking at his throbbing cock. "You didn't, but I wasn't in the mood to listen", Leon didn't stop pumping, hair a mess and eyes completely fucked out as he gave you a grin.

The way that I see it, Leon would have fun being a brat, it's a dynamic I can see being brought out if he doesn't want to be outright submissive. Again, this is all coming from my own perception of him that he's stubborn and doesn't take shit seriously, so it would reflect whenever he's in the mood to do something like this.

[a-tale-of-legends]

Both Marnie and Leon have been put on a pedastal at a young age, and are expected to do great things for the place they call home and the people there, thus resulting them masking themselves- Leon with his Champion Leon persona, and Marnie not being able to express her emotions, despite feeling strongly, and yet she still feels like she needs to smile. In this essay I will- ( gets dragged away)

[oneroomjestershow]

Inspired by THISSSS post that made a lot of sense and made my brain shake so hard it melted, i wanted to try to assign my angel's favorites so i put them together!

thinking that Ren could make friends with pokemon... one can just dream.,.. they're a menace

[your-ace-cousin-clover]

"Primera Cita"? Girl, at this point, it's the tercera cita, be fr

[korncest]

SELF INSERT X LEON — reblogs are always appreciated! :))

IM SORRY IF THIS IS BAD IVR NEVER DRAWN LEON BEFORE 💔💔

[cool-cowboy]

Summary:

Just a little something where Leon cooks you dinner, and is terrible at it, on top of finding you incredibly distracting. Not really anything special, just a casual night off, conversation and Leon being cute. Enjoy! (Someone please give me some cutesy ideas (Or otherwise) I need some sweetness going on I'm begging)

Tags:

Domestic fluff, Established relationship, Older Leon S. Kennedy, Date night, Cooking, Nothing special, Kissing, Flirting

Text:

“Le, I’m home!” He doesn’t respond, but I can hear him, clattering around the kitchen, doing what I don’t know, cleaning maybe, though I did tell him to relax, this being his first day off in weeks, to my annoyance, not that he minds, acts like it’s no big deal, thought I was joking when I said I’d show up to the damn D.S.O. office and tell whatever bozos are running it to give the guy a break. I take my shoes off, tucking them beside his ugly ass sneakers before heading down the hall in search of my lovely husband, who is in fact in the kitchen, stood over a pot, just staring at it, one hand on the back of his hip, the other scratching at the side of his jaw, nervous. He doesn’t notice me come in, so I take my chance, sneaking toward him ready to lay a smack to his perfect ass, but I don’t get more than five feet before he speaks, not looking at me, just grumbling down into his pot. 

“Don’t you dare, sweetheart.�� I frown, paused with my hand at the ready when he gives me a look over his shoulder, lips pursed and brows raised, my expression sheepish at having been caught, hands clasped behind my back as I wander toward him, curious what’s going on at the stove, considering I haven’t let him cook once in the time we’ve been together, the one time he did it was a complete disaster, who knew plastic shouldn’t go in the oven? 

“What’re you doing?” I lay my head on the side of his arm, getting my hands around his waist and peering into the pot, which is full of water, just water, the burner set to medium, he really is helpless. He gives me a look, head turned to look down at me, his expression meant to be flat, but showing a little stress, cute. 

“Cooking.” He shrugs, going back to staring at the pot, which is never going to boil, I wonder exactly how long he’s been waiting on it, probably too long. 

“You’re cooking?” He hums, frowning when I reach to crank the heat, batting my hands away to do it himself before nudging me back so he can turn around. 

“Yeah. Wanted to uh… S’posed to be a surprise… You’re home early.” He seems a little bashful, leaning down to press a quick, affectionate kiss to my forehead then smiling when I pucker up, his lips meeting mine before he takes an overly dramatic look over his shoulder to check on his water, his hands sliding down to my hips when he turns back. 

“I uh… Worked through lunch, wanted to come home to my pretty husband…” I give him a smile, and he huffs a laugh, my words earning me another quick kiss, pressed right to the tip of my nose. 

“Pretty? You’re the only pretty one here, sweetheart.” I shake my head, looking up at him and trapping him in my arms, feeling so fuzzy, glad to be able to spend some real time together, to be soft in a way neither of us often get. 

“You are pretty…” I lay my hands on the sides of his face, my front pressed to his, just looking up at him, admiring, and he really is pretty, his features softened out from how stoic he used to be, his scruff now a little grown out, his eyes just as beautiful as always, though the crows feet are starting to show, all his happiness right there in one spot. “And handsome… And hot, and cool and awesome and- All the other ones.” He smiles, turning his head to the side and bringing a hand up to hold onto the outside of one of mine, his lips pressed to my palm while he looks at me, warm and affectionate, less wound up than usual, relaxed, that is until hissing sounds behind him, the water boiled over from inattention, his casualness flipping into frantic action, his hands moving to slide the pot off the burner, an accusing look cast toward me over his shoulder as he flips the burner off. 

“This is your fault. You’re goddamn distracting, you know that?” He gets the other burner going, leaving the other to cool off as he reaches for the pasta, setting it beside the pot as he waits, watching it, apparently afraid it’ll surprise him again. 

“Okay, if I’m so distracting I guess I’ll just go-” “Don’t even. Come sit your pretty ass up on the counter and tell me about your day.” I come over, giving up the feigned attitude to come beside him, his hands coming to my hips to spin me around before he lifts me up and onto the counter, placing a sweet kiss to my lips and muttering a “Distract me all you want” before moving to stand back in front of his pot, now boiling, the pasta added only after he turns down the heat to keep from repeating his mishap. “Go on, quit starin’ at me like that and tell me about it, was that one woman acting up today?” I shake my head, smiling, his interest in the office drama unexpected, but entertaining, I suppose. 

“She uh… Didn’t come in today. She had a big meeting with the Zarovsky account and they would’ve gone ballistic if it was rescheduled, so I uh- I went in for her and sold the shit out of her pitch, a couple million dollar deal.” He’s smiling, eyes flitting from me to his pot, which he’s now stirring, nonstop, sure nothing sticks to the bottom. 

“That’s great, hun. Don’t let them skimp on commission this time, yeah? If they try just tell ‘em your husband’s-” “I am not threatening them, Le.” He frowns, focused on his cooking, not doing much looking at me, his attention shown through his hand on my knee closest to him, drawing soft designs into my skin. “What’re you making, anyways?” He smiles, giving me a look out of the corner of his eye, amused, his finger tracing letters into the skin of my thigh, the quiet action bringing a soft smile to my face, I being the first letter.

“Take a guess.” I scoff, one guess in mind, the correct one, by the way he’s acting, his finger tracing some more while he waits, L O V E traced lightly onto my thigh

“Parmesan?” He nods, seeming pleased with his surprise, my favorite, and his, only the way I make it, he says. He finishes his little message, spelling out Y O U before drawing a little heart, looking at me to see if I got it, seeming pleased when I return the sentiment. 

“Yeah. Surprise.” I lean back on my hands, watching him, admiring, loving how he looks in the orangey light coming through the window, the sunset well on its way, all of him so perfect, his black tee maybe a little too tight, but enjoyable for me, his muscles plain for my greedy eyes to see. “You trying to start somethin’ sweetheart?” He’s eyeing me, apparently having noticed my ogling, and is pleased by it, his little smirk in its place, his expression gone mischievous. 

“No? Just enjoying my surprise…” He hums, leaving the pasta to slot himself between my legs, hands running up to rest on my hips, his smirk still there, playful.

“Hm? Well how… The hell… Am I supposed to be getting anything done with you sittin’ so pretty?” I shrug, letting my arms rest up over his shoulders, fingers mussing the back of his hair.

“You’re the one who told me to-” “No no no no, I didn’t do anything like that… Goddamn you look good, lucky me, huh?” He kisses me, soft and sweet, humming against my lips, happy. “My pretty girl… You get that time off?” He’s kissing down, going from sweet to passionate, heated, hands gripped to my hips, slow kisses running over my jaw, down the side of my throat. 

“You really wanna go to Cancun?” I thought he was joking, he’s not much of a beach guy, or an outdoorsy one, spends too much of his time outside to really enjoy it anymore, prefers lounging, cuddled on the couch and watching some shitty movie. 

“Course. Told you I’d take you.” He did, after I showed him a picture I saw and made a joke about how we “Just had to go”, not that I thought he would, or really was all that keen on going. 

“Are you even gonna be able to get a week off, Mr. super special agent?” He hums, face tucked into the crook of my neck, just resting there, breathing me in, relishing the comfort, a domesticity he’s never had before this. 

“They know not to mess with my vacation.” I’m sure they do, he hasn’t shut up about his last vacation being ruined since it was, though I guess it is fair, considering how rarely he’s given one. “Hey, shit, gotta check it.” He squirms his way out of my hold, taking a step to the side to stir the pasta, taking a scoop and plucking a steaming noodle straight off it and popping it into his mouth, wincing a little as he chews, offering me a tight smile that looks a little more akin to a grimace. 

“Done?” He gives me a thumbs-up, looking uncomfortable, probably scalded the shit out of his mouth, but he doesn’t really freak much about pain, guess it’s not a big deal to him, with how often he ends up busted up. He turns off the burner, pushing the pot back instead of straining it, moving to dig around for a pan, letting out a soft groan on his way back up, hand rubbing at the back of his hip as he sets it up, sliding all his items a little closer, his recipe set precariously on the back of the stove. 

“So… We should uh… our anniversary’s comin’ up…” I give him a look, not exactly sure what he’s getting at, his expression a little curious, that and something I’m not really sure how to name. “Was thinkin’ we could do a little trip, a weekend kinda thing… You said you were wantin’ to go back to-” “Do you want to? We can stay home, Le, I don’t mind. You’ve been nonstop lately, give yourself a break.” He looks at me, so affectionate I could puke, my care something that used to seriously freak him out, become his favorite thing, my awareness of his needs always somehow shocking to him, even after years. 

“It’s our anniversary, sweetheart-” “Yeah, ours. Let’s stay in, spend two days on the couch watching shitty romcoms and getting drunk off our asses.” He smiles, seeming wistful, pleased at the idea of his favorite thing, his measuring pausing for him to come to me, hands on the sides of my face, his look unsure, eyes searching, trying to find out if my offer is something I’d enjoy. 

“Are you sure? I’m really fine, sweetheart, no need to worry.” I drag him in by the front of his shirt, pressing a lingering, affectionate kiss to his lips, his forehead pressed to mine when I pull back, soft smiles on both our faces. 

“Yes I’m sure, now back to work, I’m starving.” I wave him off, and he scoffs, muttering a small “Evil woman” on his way back over, my displeased look earning me a meant to be innocent smile, pretending he wasn’t just speaking ill words about me. “An evil woman would make you sleep on the couch… No action.” He sighs, coming back before he even gets the chance to start again, apparently feeling a little dramatic, holding pleading hands up between us, putting on quite the act.

“Please! Please don’t make me sleep on the couch… Without any action.” I hum, pretending to decide, drawing it out a little too long, his hands running down the outsides of my arms, one of my hands lifted to his lips. “You know I don’t mean it… I like you evil… God you’re so pretty… So damn perfect baby…” He seems to have completely forgotten about his pleading, trailed off into whatever comes to mind, staring up at me and kissing at the inside of my wrist, my free hand carded through his hair. 

“Don’t you think you’re trying a little too hard?” He smiles, laying his cheek on the inside of my hand, not seeming at all bothered to leave his cooking, just staring down at me, tracing little designs into my thigh with his pointer finger. 

“ ‘m not trying… Enjoying myself, actually… Love you so damn much, sweetheart.” I drag him in, though he seems reluctant to come, pulls on me instead, slips me off the counter and spins us around, kissing all over, leaving warm all over my face, holding me to him with hands on my ass.

“Le- Le that tickles-” “Love you… Love you… Fuck, need to finish cooking… Distracting me again…” “You’re making me a distraction.” 

“... Maybe I am.”