#and it was so ridiculous I was just like 'Oh I have GOT to know EVERYTHING now'

[pucksandpower]

Under the Mistletoe

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando really wants you to kiss him under the mistletoe. Sounds normal enough, right? Wrong! So wrong

Warnings: 18+ content and description of an allergic reaction

The apartment is finally quiet. The muffled thrum of conversation and laughter that had filled every corner just hours ago has faded, leaving only the faint crackle of the fireplace in the living room. It smells like pine needles, spiced cider, and the faint citrus tang of your new body wash. You pad softly down the hallway in your slippers, the wooden floor cool beneath your feet.

“Lando?” You call, peeking into the dimly lit bedroom.

He’s there, of course, but the sight that greets you isn’t what you expect.

Lando is lying on his back, smack in the middle of the bed, arms folded behind his head like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s wearing nothing. Absolutely nothing … except for a single, strategic adornment. Tied with what looks like a strip of red ribbon, a sprig of mistletoe dangles provocatively from his dick.

“Seriously?” You stop in the doorway, blinking. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Happy Christmas,” he says, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s an invitation.” He tilts his head slightly, his curls a messy halo against the pillow. “You’ve got to kiss me.”

“Oh, I’ve got to, have I?” You fold your arms, biting back a smile.

“Under the mistletoe,” he clarifies, as if that makes it any less ridiculous. “It’s the rules. I don’t make them.”

“You absolutely made this up.”

Lando shrugs, utterly unrepentant. “Does it matter?”

You stand there for a moment, torn between amusement and disbelief. “You know, normal people just leave cookies for Santa. Not …” You gesture vaguely at him, at the ribbon, at everything.

“Not everything has to be normal,” he says, his grin softening slightly. There’s something teasing in his tone, but there’s sincerity, too. “Come on, it’s Christmas. Don’t leave me hanging.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love me for it.”

There’s no point denying it. You do love him — ridiculous, over-the-top antics and all. With a sigh that’s more for show than anything else, you take a few steps closer to the bed.

“Alright,” you say, pretending to consider. “Where exactly am I supposed to kiss you? The mistletoe’s not even …” You trail off, waving a hand vaguely in the air.

Lando smirks, his eyes dancing. “Where do you think?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you say again, but you’re already climbing onto the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, and Lando watches, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re not protesting much,” he points out.

“Shut up.”

“You could have just stayed in the doorway, you know. Told me off or something. But no, here you are-”

“Lando,” you cut in, leaning over him.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Your lips are on his before he can say anything else, cutting off whatever smug reply he had planned. His hands slide instinctively to your waist, pulling you closer as you kiss him.

It’s not rushed. The night has been long, full of people and noise and obligations, and this moment feels like a welcome reprieve. Lando’s mouth is warm, insistent but unhurried, and you let yourself get lost in it for a while, your fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally pull back, he looks up at you, flushed and grinning.

“Good start,” he says, his voice a little breathless.

“Don’t push your luck.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Really?”

“Okay, maybe a little,” he admits, his grin widening.

Shaking your head, you shift your attention downward. The ribbon, the mistletoe — it’s so absurd you have to laugh.

“Did you seriously tie this yourself?” You ask, running a finger lightly along the edge of the ribbon.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Fine, yes. Took me a solid twenty minutes, too. Those stupid YouTube tutorials make it look way easier than it is.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he says, his voice dropping slightly, “you’re still here.”

You meet his gaze, your laughter fading. The teasing, playful look in his eyes hasn’t disappeared, but there’s something else there now — something softer, more vulnerable. It’s the look he gets when he’s reminding you, without words, just how much you mean to him.

“Well,” you say quietly, “it is Christmas.”

“And you’ve got to follow the rules,” he murmurs.

“Right.”

The bed creaks slightly as you shift again, positioning yourself more comfortably. You lean down, pressing another kiss to his lips — gentler this time, more lingering. Then you trail kisses along his jaw, his collarbone, the faint dusting of freckles across his chest.

Lando lets out a soft, contented sigh, his hands finding your hips again. “You’re taking this very seriously,” he says, his voice tinged with amusement.

“I’m nothing if not thorough.”

“Lucky me.”

You glance up at him briefly, smirking. “You’ve no idea.”

When you finally reach the ribbon, you pause, your lips hovering just above it. Lando’s breathing hitches slightly, his grip on your waist tightening.

“Merry Christmas, Lando,” you murmur.

“Best Christmas ever,” he replies, his voice low and fervent.

And then, with deliberate slowness, you kiss him under the mistletoe.

You pause for a beat, the mistletoe brushing lightly against your cheek. Lando’s breathing is heavier now, his chest rising and falling beneath you. He’s trying to stay still, but his fingers dig into your skin, betraying how much control he’s losing.

“You alright up there?” You ask, teasing, your voice low.

“You know I’m not,” he mutters, his words strained.

“Good.”

And with that, you continue. Deliberate. Unhurried. Every movement of your mouth is purposeful, every touch designed to unravel him. Lando groans, low and broken, the sound rumbling through the quiet room like a storm on the horizon.

“Fuck, you’re …” He cuts himself off, his head tipping back into the pillow. His hands flex against your hips, as if holding you steady is the only thing grounding him.

“Say it,” you murmur, barely pulling away for a second.

He glances down at you, his hazel eyes dark and glassy. “You’re killing me,” he manages, his voice hoarse.

You smile, the corners of your mouth curving just slightly before you return to your task. Lando’s hands slip from your shoulders, clutching the sheets instead. He’s completely undone now — his breathing ragged, his head thrown back, his body trembling beneath you.

“F-fuck … close,” he stammers, his words tumbling out like he’s barely holding them together.

You hum softly in acknowledgment, the vibration of it drawing a sharp, involuntary gasp from him. It’s all he can take.

He breaks.

A strangled sound escapes his throat as his body tenses, and you taste the telltale musky warmth on your tongue. You stay where you are for a moment, letting him ride out the high, his grip on the sheets going slack.

When it’s over, you pull back slowly, swallowing before wiping at the corner of your mouth. One drop clings stubbornly to your lip, and you swipe it away with your thumb, catching Lando’s hazy, satisfied gaze as you do.

“You alright there?” You ask softly, your tone light but full of affection.

“Barely,” he mutters, his voice thick. He exhales sharply, his chest still heaving as he lets his head fall to the side, watching you with a dazed grin. “You’re-”

“What?” You tilt your head innocently, wiping your hand on a tissue before tossing it onto the nightstand.

“Perfect,” he finishes, his voice soft and full of something deeper than just the moment.

You laugh quietly, crawling up the bed to lie beside him. He pulls you close immediately, one arm draped over your waist, the other brushing back a strand of hair from your face.

“Was this your master plan all along?” You tease, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Maybe,” he admits, still catching his breath.

“And?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” He grins, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

You roll your eyes but smile against his skin. “Merry Christmas, Lando.”

“Happy Christmas,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with exhaustion and contentment.

For a moment, neither of you says anything more. The only sound is the quiet crackle of the fire in the distance, and the world beyond the bedroom feels miles away.

Eventually, Lando breaks the silence. “So … same thing next year?”

You shove him playfully, laughing as his grin widens. “Go to sleep.”

And with him wrapped around you, the warmth of his love settling over you like a blanket, you do.

***

The morning light creeps through the curtains, warm and soft, a stark contrast to the frantic energy in the room. You stir awake first, stretching lazily until you feel Lando shift beside you, letting out a low, uncomfortable groan.

“Ugh,” he mutters, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean, wrong?” You mumble sleepily, rolling over to look at him.

He doesn’t respond immediately, just shifts again, his body stiff and tense. Then he sits up abruptly, wincing as if every movement hurts.

“Lando?” You ask, more alert now.

“It … hurts,” he says, glancing down at himself. “Like, bad.”

You follow his gaze, and that’s when you see it. The redness. The swelling.

“Oh my God,” you say, your voice shooting up an octave. You sit up fully, the sleepiness disappearing in an instant. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” He exclaims, his face a mixture of panic and embarrassment. “It was fine last night!”

“Well, it’s not fine now!” You scoot closer, carefully inspecting the irritated skin. It’s blotchy, bright red, and looks alarmingly angry.

“It’s swollen,” he groans.

“No kidding.”

“What do we do?” He asks, his voice bordering on frantic.

“First, calm down,” you say, though your own voice isn’t exactly steady. “Second … oh my God, Lando, do you think it’s the mistletoe?”

His eyes widen as the realization hits. “You think I’m allergic?”

“Do you have any idea where that stuff’s been stored? It’s probably coated in dust or pollen or something. Or-” Your voice catches. “Do you think you’ve always been allergic?”

“I’ve never, uh … put it on my cock before, so how would I know?”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, panic simmering between you.

“We need help,” Lando says finally.

“Like … a doctor?”

“No!” He yelps. “We’re not going to a doctor for this!”

“Then what-”

“Call Jon,” he blurts out, cutting you off.

“What?” You ask, incredulous. “Your performance coach?”

“Yeah! He knows, like, medical stuff. And he won’t make it weird.”

You raise a skeptical eyebrow but grab your phone anyway, scrolling to Jon’s number. “Oh, this isn’t going to be awkward at all,” you mutter as it rings.

“Hello?” Jon answers, sounding far too chipper for the situation.

“Uh, hi, Jon,” you begin, exchanging a look with Lando. “It’s Y/N. Lando and I have … a bit of a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” Jon asks, his voice immediately shifting to professional concern.

“Well …” You trail off, glancing at Lando, who gestures frantically for you to continue. “It’s kind of … personal.”

“Y/N,” Jon says patiently, “you’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

You let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Okay, fine. Lando’s … area is swollen and covered in a rash.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“… Come again?” Jon finally says, and you can practically hear him trying not to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” Lando shouts from the bed. “It’s serious!”

“Oh, it’s serious?” Jon repeats, his voice full of barely concealed amusement. “Alright. How did this happen?”

You hesitate, then mumble, “He … tied mistletoe to it last night.”

Jon doesn’t reply immediately, but the faint sound of him choking back laughter comes through the line.

“Can you help or not?” Lando snaps, his cheeks flushing red — whether from anger or embarrassment, you’re not sure.

“Okay, okay,” Jon says, his tone softening. “It’s probably an allergic reaction. Clean the area thoroughly, apply a topical antihistamine if you have one, and keep it elevated to reduce swelling.”

“Elevated?” You echo, frowning. “How are we supposed to-”

“Just do your best,” Jon says, clearly suppressing a laugh again. “And if it doesn’t improve in a few hours, you might need to, uh … consult a professional.”

“Thanks, Jon,” you say quickly, hanging up before Lando can yell again.

Lando groans, flopping back onto the bed. “This is the worst Christmas ever.”

“You’ll survive,” you say, grabbing the first-aid kit from the bathroom. “Now, let me see.”

“This is humiliating,” he mutters, but he doesn’t resist as you sit beside him, carefully applying the ointment Jon suggested.

“Hold still,” you say gently, your touch careful.

He winces but doesn’t complain further, watching you with a mix of gratitude and lingering embarrassment. After a few minutes, the redness looks slightly less angry, though the swelling is still noticeable.

Once you’re done, you sit back with a sigh, your hands on your knees. “Well, that was a bonding experience.”

Lando lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, not exactly what I had planned.”

You glance at him, your lips twitching upward despite everything. “So … was it worth it?”

He grins, some of his usual confidence returning. “Next year, I’ll make sure to have an epipen ready.”

You laugh, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Next year, maybe let’s stick to normal traditions. Like cookies. Or matching pajamas.”

“We’ll see,” he says, smirking as he leans back against the pillows. “I’ve still got a whole year to think of something even better.”

“God help us all,” you mutter, but there’s affection in your voice.

And despite the chaos, as you settle back into bed beside him, you can’t help but think it’s still a Christmas to remember.

[disgustingtwitches]

A Rose in Harlem

New York is supposed to be the city where people vanish into the chaos, but somehow, Simon Riley has found his way into your life. He’s managed to slip past your defenses, filling a void you didn’t realize was there. But when the closeness starts to feel too real, you pull back, desperate to hide your vulnerability. Simon, however, has already bared his own scars and expects you to do the same. Suddenly, your life feels like a romcom you never signed up for, starring the one man who’s impossible to ignore.

Long live the rose that grew from concrete, when no one else ever cared.

Masterlist

PART 4

The Sweetest Taboo

So, you're sleeping with your neighbor. This is fine. Totally fine. You're two consenting adults; no one needs to know. Except Simon seems to disagree.

You wouldn’t peg him as the "kiss and tell" type, but much to your duress, Simon is unapologetically the "kiss and show" type.

At the grocery store, he casually shows up at the same time, grabbing your bags like it’s second nature and walking you home. The stares from the neighbors make your face burn.

Morning run-ins in the foyer have evolved into something dangerously inappropriate. He refuses to let you leave without a kiss. Sometimes it’s just a fleeting brush of lips; other times, it’s deeper, lingering, and edging into the territory of lewd, making you shove his face away.

Then there’s the hoodie. One of his oversized ones, soft and smelling faintly of him. He bullied you into wearing it. You caved, of course, but it stays hidden in the back of your drawer when Ishta comes around—there’s no way you’re dealing with opening that can of worms.

It’s not just the overt gestures, though. It’s the way he lingers too long at your door after you’ve kissed him goodnight. Watches you through the fire escape, like he has every right to. Sitting there with his legs sprawled, a cigarette lazily dangling between his fingers, he makes no attempt to hide it.

You tried to put an end to that one. Bought curtains on a whim, feeling smug about the newfound privacy they’d grant you. But they mysteriously disappeared the day after you installed them—conveniently after you’d gone to work.

Simon played dumb when you confronted him, leaning casually against his doorframe.

“Dunno what you’re talking about, angel. Someone breaking in while you’re away? Maybe I should stick around your place and keep watch.”

His grin was infuriatingly smug, as it usually is.

It’s all becoming a little too real, a little too… loud. And yet, when you’re pressed up against him in the quiet of your apartment, his hands framing your face like you’re the only thing worth holding onto, you almost forget about his wrongdoings.

***

“Brought out the good shit tonight.”

Ishta grins, popping open a bottle of prosecco—the cheap, overly sweet kind she adores. You hold back the urge to grimace as she pours, passing you a glass.

“What's the occasion?”

“Me and Mr.Scottsman are official!”

She squeals lifting her glass high. You mimic the gesture, the clink of glass on glass ringing lightly through the room.

“Wow, it's so official you still won't tell me his name.”

You quip, rolling your eyes as you take a cautious sip. The sweetness of the wine hits immediately, and you fight the reflex to wince.

“John. Johnny.”

She sighs dreamily, hearts in her eyes.

“I call him Johnny because John is way too serious for my liking.”

You raise a brow at her,

"Sounds like you’ve got it bad, Ishta.”

She doesn’t deny it, swirling the prosecco in her glass like it’s some romantic prop, her grin widening.

"Oh, you have no idea. He’s got this laugh—it’s ridiculous—and he can’t make tea to save his life. But, ugh, he’s perfect."

You shake your head, taking another begrudging sip of the prosecco, already bracing yourself for what’s sure to be a night of gushing anecdotes about Johnny.

“Perfect,”

You echo with a laugh, setting your glass down.

“You’ve been together for how long now? A month?”

“Three weeks,”

Ishta corrects.

“But when you know, you know.”

You snort, leaning back against the arm of the couch.

“Yeah, sure. You’re gonna marry this man, huh?”

“Don’t tempt me,”

She says, her grin widening.

“He’s already invited to meet his family. Can you believe it? His family, and I’m just over here trying to not come off as a complete lunatic.”

“Well, you’re failing spectacularly.”

You tease.

She throws a pillow at you, laughing.

“Says the one who’s been mysteriously glowing these past few weeks. Care to spill why?”

You freeze for half a second, a sip of prosecco poised at your lips.

“Glowing? What are you even talking about?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me,”

Ishta says, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re hiding something. Someone.”

You feign indifference, shrugging.

“Maybe I’ve just been using better skincare.”

“Bullshit. Spill. Who is it?”

She leans forward, her gaze piercing.

There’s no way you’re telling her. Not about Simon. Not about the fire escape. Not about the way his hands feel against your skin or the things he whispers in the dark.

“No one,”

You say firmly, hoping she buys it.

“And stop projecting your ridiculous love life onto me.”

Ishta squints at you, unconvinced.

“Uh-huh. Sure. For now, you’re off the hook. But mark my words,”

She wags a finger at you.

“I’ll figure it out.”

You laugh nervously, downing the rest of your drink.

You’re grateful for how easily distracted Ishta can be, her attention now fully locked onto the trashy dating show the two of you watch every Thursday. It’s a routine you’d both adopted more for the chance to mock strangers' poor life choices than for any genuine investment in the drama.

Occasionally, she’ll pipe up, her voice dreamy as she recounts the latest romantic gesture from Johnny, her “Mr. Scotsman." She compares him to the guys on TV, and each time, she insists that Johnny does it better. You can almost hear the wistful sigh in her voice as she talks about how much she adores him.

You smile at her, teasing lightly,

“Gonna end up as one of those military wives?”

Ishta laughs, a genuine, carefree sound that rings out in the space between you. She shrugs with mock indifference, but there’s a spark in her eyes.

"Maybe. I mean, he’s a loverboy under all that wildness, but yeah… I’d say I’ve got it bad.”

You smirk at her, shaking your head.

"You’re hopeless."

"And you’re one to talk,”

She fires back, leveling you with a knowing look.

“Sexy British neighbor still got you tied up in knots?”

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink to stall. The wine’s still too sweet, sticking to your tongue, but you focus on the tang that lingers at the edges.

“I’m not ‘tied up’ in anything. Haven't even spoken to him since the noise complaint situation.”

“Riiight.”

She side-eyes you, unconvinced.

“Something tells me that's not entirely true. You get this weird look on your face every time I bring him up.”

You try to keep a straight face.

“Maybe you’re reading too much into things.”

“Uh-huh.”

She leans back, crossing her arms.

“One of these days, I'll catch you slipping.”

You roll your eyes, desperate to redirect her attention.

“I think you’ve had too much wine.”

“Or not enough,”

She shoots back, taking another sip with a knowing smirk. She hums, like she just remembered something important.

“I forgot to tell you, Johnny invited you to come with me to meet his family.”

You make a face of confusion.

“Me? Why?”

“I talk about you a lot, believe it or not you are one of the most important people in my life.”

The statement takes you back a bit, makes you feel a twinge of guilt lying to her.

“But his family?”

“Well…”

She tilts her head, searching for the right words.

“They’re not exactly blood relatives. They’re his squad, I think that’s the term he uses. He trusts them with his life, so he sees them as family—or the closest thing to it. Something like that.”

It’s her turn to hesitate, her fingers absently trailing the stem of her wine glass.

“Anyway, he thought you might want to come along. Besides,” She adds with a grin, peeking up again.

“It'll be fun. Think about it! Drinks, charming military men, and me as your entertainment. What more could you want?”

With Simon in your life, you think to yourself, you find yourself wanting for nothing lately—except maybe a little less suffocating attention.

“Yeah, what more could I want.”

You say aloud, masking the weight of your thoughts with a light laugh.

Ishta beams at your answer,

“That’s the spirit! You’ll see—it’ll be good for you. And hey, if nothing else, you can help me judge Johnny’s friends. Who knows, maybe one of them is a secret disaster like the guys on this show.”

The conversation shifts back to the TV, her playful commentary dragging you out of your head. But even as you nod along, your mind is already working on an escape plan.

You’re just gonna text her some excuse when the day comes. She’ll understand. Probably.

***

“How can you breathe in these?”

You groan, tugging at the waistband of Ishta’s skin-tight leather pants as she twists and wiggles, trying to pull them up.

“Breathing isn’t a priority here.”

She huffs, planting her hands on her hips and giving a final shimmy.

“Looking good is. Besides,”

She admires herself in the mirror.

“Johnny will love it.”

“Yeah, he probably cares more about how easy they’ll be to take off, Ishta.”

She grins, running her hands down the smooth fabric.

“Yeah. My man, the most efficient guy I know.”

You laugh, shaking your head as she strikes a dramatic pose.

“Efficiency—truly the cornerstone of romance.”

“Don’t knock it,”

She quips, spinning around to face you.

“He’s got it down to an art. Makes him a great lover.”

“Ishta.”

“I mean seriously, when I'm running late he knows exactly what to-”

“Ishta!”

“What? Someone has to get laid here, and it sure isn't you!”

You groan in protest, grabbing a throw pillow and launching it at her. She ducks, her laughter ringing out as she returns to inspecting her reflection in the mirror, twisting to check out the back of her pants.

“I think my butt’s getting bigger.”

She declares, completely unfazed.

“Aren’t we running late?”

You ask, exasperated.

“We’re fine. He’s getting us an Uber.”

She replies, adjusting the waistband of her pants with a smug little smile.

“To Brooklyn? Ouuu, big money.”

You tease, rolling your eyes as you grab your bag.

She grins, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“I just got him trained right. I'll show you how to do it when you get your own man. Or woman. Or anyone.”

Before you get to have your say her phone dings, and she grabs her keys.

"C’mon, Uber’s here."

You give her one last look before following her out the door, ready for whatever insanity lies ahead.

***

The bar you stand outside of is dingy and small, a stark contrast to the sleek black SUV Johnny arranged for Ishta and you. You raise an eyebrow, already feeling out of place.

“Are you sure this is the place?”

You ask, rocking side to side in your heels, feet already hurting.

“Too good for it?”

Ishta teases.

“No, just… aren’t we a little overdressed?”

You reply, glancing down at your outfit. Her red-bottoms are going to get ruined by the sticky floors, and your top is way too low-cut for a place like this.

Ishta smirks, giving you a look.

“You’ll be fine. Besides, if anyone stares for too long, the guys will probably scare them off— if they are anything like Johnny describes.”

And so, you step hesitantly into the grungy spot, thinking of what shitty liquor you need to get you through the night.

The bar is dim, louder than you expected, the scent of stale beer and fried food heavy in the air. Ishta leads the way with her usual confidence, weaving through the mismatched tables and chairs. You follow, heels catching on the sticky floor, your stomach tightening as she heads toward a table in the back.

That’s when you see it: the large black hoodie. The person wearing it is turned away, broad shoulders hunched slightly. Something about the way they hold themselves makes your chest tighten. You tell yourself it can’t possibly be him. The odds are ridiculous, almost laughable.

And yet, your feet falter.

Johnny spots Ishta first, lighting up with a grin so wide it makes his eyes crease at the corners, laughter lines deepening across his face. There’s a boyish enthusiasm in the way he waves her over, unrestrained and unabashed, like a pet spotting its owner after a long day apart.

You remember her mentioning once, in passing, that he was born the year of the dog. It’s funny how fitting that feels now. Loyal, eager, a little too earnest. He all but bounces out of his seat, the movement causing a ripple of attention to shift across the table.

The ridiculously pretty man seated next to him glances up first, his expression brightening with easy charm. Across from him, an older man with a beard you could only describe as unnecessarily dramatic turns and nods politely.

Then, the hoodie moves. Your stomach plummets.

Simon.

His expression is unreadable, but the sight of him freezes you in place, and before you realize it, you’re standing there looking like a deer caught in headlights. The rest of the table follows his gaze, looking at you with various degrees of curiosity.

Ishta grabs your arm.

“Oh my God. Girl, is that your man? What’s wrong? You can’t back away now!”

She says in a low voice, dragging you forward before you can recover.

“That is not my man,”

You hiss back, but it does nothing to stop her relentless pull.

Johnny grins as you both approach, his voice warm and thick with his accent.

“Almost scared her off, Ghost.”

Ghost?

Your eyes flick to Simon. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say a word.

Johnny, takes over the introductions.

“This is Simon. Don’t mind him, wasn’t properly socialized as a bairn.”

There’s some shifting around as the group makes room. To your dismay, Simon stays tucked into one side of the booth, leaving Kyle and Price to scoot out. They pull over chairs from a nearby empty table, and you find yourself awkwardly squeezed beside Simon while Ishta takes the seat across from you.

“Finally nice to put a name to the face.”

Ishta beams at Simon, and you can see the faint flicker of amusement in his eyes, though he doesn’t respond. She laughs when Johnny makes a confused face, giving a brief rundown to the table.

“She says you haven't seen each other since that incident.”

Ishta waves her glass in Simon's direction.

Simon leans back in his seat, mask still up.

“Avoids me like the plague, she does. Must’ve left quite the impression.”

Kyle snorts, leaning forward with an amused grin.

“That’s just his thing. Simon’s got a talent for being a nuisance, don’t you, mate? Knows exactly how to make people’s lives hell.”

“Only when they deserve it.”

Simon replies smoothly.

The table chuckles, but you stay quiet. His knee bumps yours under the table and you shoot him a sharp glance. He doesn’t even look your way, focused instead on swirling his drink he hasn't touched. You drink more than you probably should, hoping it’ll dull the awkwardness.

Thankfully, the rest of the table carries on without issue, their conversation flowing easily.

“Military, huh?”

You ask eventually, your voice quieter than intended.

Simon doesn’t look at you, but Johnny leans in with a grin.

“Yeah, we're stationed here for a while, so get used to seeing my handsome face around.”

The ease in his tone does little to settle the tension twisting in your chest. Simon doesn’t so much as flinch, remaining a stoic, unreadable presence. His silence feels deliberate, heavy, but Johnny’s brightness seems determined to lighten the mood.

“Maybe you’ll even get used to this one,”

Johnny adds playfully.

“Though I wouldn’t hold your breath. He’s got the personality of wet cement.”

That makes you laugh a little, along with the rest of the table. Younod toward Simon.

“So… Ghost. That’s a call sign?”

Simon hums, noncommittal, leaving Johnny to fill the silence.

“Wish I got something cool like that,”

Johnny says, shooting Simon a look that’s both teasing and fond.

“Guess he earned it, scary bastard.”

You glance at Simon again. His face gives nothing away.

Ishta leans over and whispers something into Johnny’s ear, her lips brushing against his ear with a playful familiarity. Whatever she says prompts a crooked grin to spread across his face, his blue eyes lighting up with mischief.

The two of them fall into their own little world, lovebirds whispering and laughing softly, entirely lost to anyone else at the table. Their giddy exchange contrasts sharply with the tension simmering between you and Simon.

You shift in your seat, feeling the press of his knee against yours again. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but the contact makes your pulse quicken. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, wondering if it’s intentional. If he notices your reaction, he doesn’t show it.

Across the table, Price and Kyle keep the conversation flowing, their camaraderie effortless. You envy the ease they seem to find in this dynamic, the sense of belonging that eludes you in this moment.

Eventually, you decide to call it a night.

“Think I’ll head out, guys.”

You say, grabbing your bag. You glance toward Ishta, but she’s too busy twirling a strand of Johnny’s hair between her fingers, practically sitting in his lap.

Kyle stands, reaching for his jacket.

“Want me to walk you home, love?”

Before you can answer, Price butts in.

“Think Simon’s closer. Said you're neighbors, right?”

Your mouth goes dry.

“Oh, uh. Yeah.”

“He'll take you home. Don't need Kyle chasing up your dress.”

Simon finally looks at you, dark eyes unreadable. Without another word, he gets up.

***

The train ride back is painfully silent, tension coiling thick between you. Simon doesn’t make small talk, doesn’t fill the awkward space with meaningless words, and you can’t decide if you’re grateful or annoyed.

When you finally reach your apartment, you stop at the door, fumbling with your keys. You unlock it and step inside, turning to offer a polite, “Goodnight.”

Before you can close the door, Simon’s boot wedges into the frame.

“No kiss goodnight?”

He murmurs, pulling down his mask, voice low.

“Do you always have to be like this?”

You mumble, leaning forward and tilting your head up.

“You like it.”

He replies, pressing his scarred lips against your glossed ones.

The kiss lingers in your mind longer than it lasts, the warmth still spreading through your limbs. He pulls away, slipping his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. You stand with the door still open,

“Ok, well, goodnigh-”

“Not gonna invite me in for a drink?”

The way he says it—like he’s giving you the option, but he knows exactly how this game goes—brings a rush of heat to your cheeks.You hesitate for a moment, the weight of the night pressing down on you, but it hits you then—you’ve been waiting for him to make this move. Simon knows exactly how to push just enough, always teetering on the line between being too much and just enough.

You tilt your head, playing the game, your voice teasing.

“I don’t believe in letting strangers into my place, Ghost.”

His jaw tightens at the name, a flash of something flickering behind his eyes, but he recovers quickly, scanning your face with a quiet intensity.

“Hit your head, angel? The name’s Simon, remember?”

“Hmm,”

You cock your head, a playful smirk curling on your lips as you tease,

“Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.”

Simon’s expression shifts, eyes narrowing just a fraction as his lips curl into a grin.

“No? Thought you’d remember it with how many times you say it when I’ve got you bent over that couch.”

“Simon!”

You gasp with a smile.

“Glad to see your memories back, love. Had me worried there for a moment.”

His voice drips with smug satisfaction, fingers creeping around your waist as you step backward into your apartment. His movements mirror yours, closing the distance, the same familiar rhythm between you two. Except this time, the dance ends in your bed, bathed in silvery moonlight that filters through the windows, casting shadows and soft glimmers over the room.

What he says to you in that space, the things he says are as depraved as they are tender, sinful words laced with something softer, gentler. And in that moment, you realize they’re the sweetest things Simon is capable of offering.

Lying on his chest, you let your thoughts drift, his sparse chest hair tickling the side of your face. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat drums against your ear as your fingers trace lazy circles on his skin. His hand mirrors yours, gently skimming the small of your back in slow, soothing motions.

You enjoy these moments just aas much as the more heated ones—maybe more. They feel almost domestic, like peeking through the keyhole of something you tell yourself you can’t have. But for now, it’s enough. It fills that quiet loneliness you feel some days.

Simon presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head, his lips lingering there for a beat longer than you expect. It feels like him savoring the closeness he so rarely allows himself.

“Mind if I sleep here tonight?”

His voice low and casual.

Your body goes stiff before you can stop it, and his hand on your back stills.

“Oh,”

You say, forcing a laugh that cracks at the edges.

“Didn’t think you’d grown tired of your bachelor setup. What happened? Mattress on the floor finally giving up on you?”

Simon hums, unbothered, his fingers resuming their lazy path.

“Figured I’d upgrade. You offering?”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you sit up quickly, putting a small but deliberate distance between you.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He doesn’t move, watching you with hooded eyes, his expression calm, unreadable.

“Why not? Thought we were comfortable now.”

His tone is deceptively light, but you can hear the challenge beneath it.

“I don’t sleep well with someone else in the bed,” You say, crossing your arms, covering your bare chest.

“It’s just a thing—I’m used to having my space.”

“Space, huh?”

He sits up and leans back against the wall, hands clasped behind his head, looking entirely too at ease.

“Didn’t seem to need space a few minutes ago, angel.”

You frown, heat rising to your face.

“That’s different. Sleeping is… it’s personal.”

He smirks, tilting his head slightly.

“And what we just did isn’t?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your irritation in check.

“You know what I mean, Simon.”

“Not sure I do,”

His tone is playful, but there’s a stubborn edge to it now.

“Seems to me like you’re just makin’ excuses.”

“I’m not.”

The words come out sharper than you intended. You sigh, running a hand through his short hair, an apology of sorts.

“It’s just… I’m not ready for that.”

“A lil sleepover?”

He tilts his head. Before you can respond, he grabs your face with one hand, his fingers pressing against your cheeks to make your lips pout.

You yank your head away, sucking your teeth in frustration.

“You’re impossible.”

He grins, leaning back against the wall like he’s won something.

“Am I? Or are you just makin’ this harder than it needs to be?”

“Simon,”

You snap,

“It’s not about being hard or easy. It’s about boundaries. Respecting them.”

“Boundaries?”

He raises an eyebrow, the smirk slipping just slightly.

“Since when have we had those?”

Never, you think to yourself. It's a little distressing if you think about it too long, letting a man have such sway on you.

He pulls you closer, his thick arms wrapping around you with an ease that feels as natural as it is intrusive. You don’t resist, though. Instead, your fingers trace the inked lines on his forearm, a distraction, an excuse not to look him in the eye.

“Think you got one more in you?”

His voice is low, dipping into something softer, coaxing.

“I’ll be out your hair after that.”

You can’t help the faint smile that tugs at your lips, even though you hate yourself for giving in so easily. It’s always like this with him—pushing, pulling, finding that sliver of space where you’re weak enough to let him in.

“Yeah,”

You murmur, leaning just slightly into his touch,

“Think I do.”

His lips curve into a grin, satisfied, but he doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he pulls you into his lap. And just like always, he gets exactly what he wants.

Prev | Next

[mossangelll]

Im absolutely enchanted with your yandere jinx....This brings the question tho....how would Yandere Jinx handle her darling being on her period? (I mynself am on my period and I kid you not- I feel worse than when eating taco bell)

yandere!jinx x reader on their period

honestly not as much of an overt yandere as usual - if you squint, it’s pretty much a normal jinx hc!

hcs like this which are more ‘slice of life’ are super fun and i would be interested in doing them for more characters (e.g. what they’re like when you’re sick) if anyone’s interested!

tysm for requesting

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

cw: periods, mentions of blood, mentions of kidnapping, sexual mentions but not in too much detail, slight noncon, reader isn’t referred to by any gendered pronouns but female anatomy is mentioned

yandere!jinx who can’t sleep without holding onto you during the night

yandere!jinx who reaches over for your body just to feel the cool bedsheet under her

yandere!jinx who notices the bathroom light is on and without hesitation believes that your escape attempts have finally resulted in a success

yandere!jinx who crashes into the bathroom to find…you, crying on the toilet with your head in your hands

“toots, i hope you aren’t thinking of making any stupid decisions.” her voice is still grumbly from sleep but it doesn’t manage to hide the underlying annoyance simmering beneath

you look up at her with pained eyes and that’s when she notices your underwear, pooled at your ankles and stained with blood

her eyebrows shoot to the top of her head and her demeanour softens like she was never mad in the first place

“oh! i didn’t know it was that time of the month.”

she sees how you wilt away in shame, arms crossed over your midsection, at such a normal bodily function and rushes over to cuddle you, toilet be damned

yandere!jinx can be a lot of things - overbearing, compulsive and downright abusive, but she knows that what you need right now is someone to comfort you

yandere!jinx who understands what you’re going through painfully well

yandere!jinx who still acts awkward around you for the first few periods you have when you’re in her captivity - the cons of relying on her sole father figure growing up

yandere!jinx who doesn’t trust you to go outside without trying to cry for help so she ends up getting essentials for you

yandere!jinx who doesn’t need to ask what kind of products you usually buy; she already snooped around your house before she took you and knows whether you prefer pads, tampons or cups, the kind of snacks you crave, whether you’re the angry or teary type - she knows everything

yandere!jinx who gets you a ridiculous pile of desserts she stole from some fancy piltie bakery just to make sure your cravings are satiated

yandere!jinx who washes any bloody sheets, clothes or underwear for you with her own two hands - not only is she gratified at how flustered you get, she wants to feel closer to you in any way possible and getting to do such intimate chores is honestly euphoric for her, it emphasises how you belong to her and her alone

yandere!jinx who doesn’t let you use a hot water bottle; she wants you to come to her for comfort, wants to be the one to hold her hands over your stomach and ease the cramps

yandere!jinx who gives you tiny drops of shimmer, not enough to get seriously high but enough to take the pain away

yandere!jinx who loves how your pink eyes match hers after she’s dosed you

yandere!jinx who loves to see you cry at something that’s not her because it means you won’t reject her attempts to make you feel better

yandere!jinx who hopes and prays that your cycles sync up so that you two become even more attached

yandere!jinx who massages your lower back when you complain about it aching, maybe even using special shimmer-imbued lotion she got from singed to aid her efforts

yandere!jinx who would love if their darling gets tender breasts around their period since she can cop a feel while using “pain relief” as her get out of jail free card

yandere!jinx who doesn’t care about any of the symptoms that you think are “gross” or “disgusting” - everything about you is perfect and she can’t find it in her to hate any of it

yandere!jinx who isn’t turned off by the sight of a little blood and tries to convince you to let her pleasure you, even if you are shaken up by the idea - after all, she heard that orgasms help alleviate cramps!

yandere!jinx who tells you all about her embarrassing period stories from when she was younger to make you feel better if you bleed through your clothing in front of her

yandere!jinx who becomes your personal jester if you’re bedridden; she tells you jokes and does a myriad of insane tricks that you can’t even fathom how she pulls off - it definitely gets your mind off of how terrible you feel

yandere!jinx who supports you every month and hopes that when you become accustomed to your new life, you’ll eventually do the same for her <3

masterlist

[runninriot]

A Christmas Wish Come True

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 25

prompt: Christmas | rated: G | wc: 1.000 | tags: Eddie & Wayne Munson, single dad Steve, found family, strangers to lovers

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 (+ bonus epilogue)

“So, wanna tell me about your little side gig as grandpa, Wayne?”

It was meant as a joke but his voice sounds angrier than he intended and it makes Eddie instantly feel bad.

   “I’m sorry. It’s just- why haven’t you told me?”

   “Look, that kid, Robbie, she only has her dad. And Steve is doing his best raising her all alone but- you know how me met? I’d just gotten off work, drove by his house and saw him sitting there on the front porch, looking like he was two seconds away from a mental breakdown. That man was a mess and he needed someone to take him by the hand. So, I reached out mine and he took it.”

He scrubs a hand over his chin, a habit he always has when he’s deep in thoughts.

   “I wanted to tell ya, I just didn’t find the right moment. And I was a little worried you’d have a problem with it. I know you had a thing for that boy back in high school and I didn’t know if you guys had ever been... close, so-“

   “No, no! Back up, Wayne. What?”

Eddie’s mouth falls open in shock. It’s not like he ever had to hide the fact that he likes guys – Wayne always knew, always accepted Eddie for all he is. But never, not once, did he mention his stupid infatuation with Steve. There’s no fucking way his uncle knew.

   “Oh, don’t act so surprised. Every single piece of paper lying around your mess of a room had a little heart with Steve’s name on it.”

    Oh, right.

   “Okay, I give you that but why would you think we’ve been like, together? Even you must see how ridiculous that is. Have you looked at the man?”

Eddie bites his tongue before he says something like ‘He’s way too perfect to be with someone like me’. Wayne doesn’t need to know that he’s still got heart eyes for Steve and he already said too much.

   “Yeah, I saw. I also heard how he talked about you. How he got all soft when he talked about all the mischief you were up to in high school. That cost me all my hair by the way, so thanks for that.”

Wayne laughs and Eddie would too, if he wasn’t so confused right now.

   “Whether you knew it or not, that boy liked you. And seeing you two today, I’m pretty sure you still have that in common. You are both so bad at hiding it.”

Their conversation did not mess Eddie up. It didn't, okay? And he's definitely not nervous when he opens the door for Steve and Robbie to come in, right on time for Christmas dinner.

It doesn't make him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin when Steve takes the seat next to him, so close their knees occasionally touch.

And it doesn't cause a full-body shiver when their hands accidentally brush while reaching for the same bread.

It's fine. Everything is fine. Wayne doesn't know what he's talking about. There's nothing between them. No sparks, no fire, no longing glances. They’re just two small families celebrating Christmas together. Nothing more.

That's why, when Eddie excuses himself to have a smoke outside after dinner, and Steve follows him, he doesn't think much of it.

But of course, reality always comes crashing in. And when Steve huddles closer, stands right next to him, sharing his cigarette like that’s normal, Eddie can’t take it anymore.

   “Wanna hear something funny?” he asks, trying hard to control the tremble in his voice.

   “Wayne thought you and I were, you know, a thing in high school. That’s why he didn’t tell me about meeting you.”

Eddie laughs but it sounds fake, and for a long moment, all Steve does is look at him, eyes piercing like they’re trying to see into Eddie’s soul.

   “Mhm, very funny,” he then says but doesn't sound amused at all.

   “No, it really is, because I had the biggest crush on you back then."

Eddie swallows, looks, waits. Doesn't know what for because it feels like anything could happen.

   "Had?" It almost sounds like a tease but Eddie can sense that Steve's nervous.

   "Would it be bad if it was still true?" Eddie asks, unsure of where this is going.

   "Depends.” Steve answers, a tentative smile on his lips, “Would it be bad if I wanted to kiss you right now?"

Eddie isn't sure if he's still breathing and if his heart's still beating because the world is spinning too fast and-

His lips are on Steve's, testing, pressing, and there are hands in his hair, and the night becomes day, and everything feels right, feels good, feels like something finally clicks into place.

They kiss until their lungs hurt, kiss some more after a giggle fit. Kiss again until the door opens and Robbie is standing before them with wide eyes.

   "Oh, sh-oot! Hey, baby! Sorry, Eddie and I were just-"

   "Thank you, Santa!" Robbie yells against the sky and Eddie's heart explodes.

The worry on Steve's face makes way for confusion and Eddie feels bad for cheating because contrary to Steve, he's in on Robbie's secret.

   "Grandpa Wayne said to tell you we're having hot chocolate and cookies for dessert."

   "We'll be right there," Eddie answers for Steve, who still seems a little frozen in place.

Once the door closes behind her, Steve releases a shaky breath.

   "That- did not go like I thought it would."

For a moment, Eddie worries Steve's going to take it back. That the shock broke him out of whatever spell he was under.

But Steve kisses him again, before taking his hand to lead them back inside, where Wayne greets them with a smug smile. Eddie can practically hear the 'I told you so' but that's okay.

He's happy Wayne was right.

Happy that a little girl's wish aligned so perfectly with his own.

A Christmas wish come true.

[enbyfvcker]

"Come back home."

𝙒𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣 (𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩!𝙬𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2k

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: a part two continuation from this from @psychohoneywhiskey because it rented a whole fucking condo in my head.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: Hurt/comfort, angst, fighting, fluff, kissing, happy ending, Wade needs a hug, Logan needs a hug.

Wade only got home when the sun was already rising. His suit was all torn up, and some wounds still healed from the fight he just had with some stubborn criminals.

He expected to see Logan sleeping on the couch, but he didn't.

Well, maybe he decided to sleep in his bed?

He walks to his bedroom with expectation but also finds it empty.

Actually, not entirely empty.

In his bed layed all the clothes Wade bought Logan folded. All the little thoughtful gifts he gave him. Everything that Wade got him to say through actions that he's wanted.

Looks like the message didn't land.

His heart tightens, tears welling in his eyes as he realizes that Logan left him.

Left after being willing to sacrifice himself for Wade. Left after making this crack house he lived in into a home. Left after letting Wade convince him to stay sober after decades. Left after stealing his way into Wade's heart, his life, his family.

And just like that, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴. Without nothing with him but his suit.

Honestly, Wade doesn't think he should be surprised for this. He knew it was going to happen. He knew Logan was just waiting for an opportunity to get rid of him. Who would ever put up with him? God, if he could escape from himself sometimes, he would. He tried many times, too.

So could he even blame him, really?

In that moment, all the words Logan spat at him in that Honda Odyssey at the middle of a god forsaken void came back into his mind. They have been constantly in the past weeks.

He did feel like a ridiculous sad joke. He wanted nothing more than to be able to die alone because at least it meant he would just 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺. That his attempts wouldn't just be self-harm anymore and that when he tried blowing himself up, he wouldn't just regenerate back.

He couldn't keep his job. Couldn't keep Vanessa. Couldn't keep Logan. If it weren't for Logan, he wouldn't be able to keep his fucking universe.

He'd never be an anchor being. He'd never make a difference or matter, so why would anyone stay?

He sobbed as he held one of Logan's shirts, burying his face into it and desperately trying to smell any remaining scent of him.

Mary Puppins walks in, her tongue out as she turns her head to the side, looking up at Wade with sad eyes.

"What's all that damn noise? Did you stub your toe again?" Al walks in wearing a sleeping robe and her sunglasses, apparently having awakened from Wade's ugly crying.

"Hey, Al..." Wade just sniffles, his voice broken as he just chooses to ignore her question.

"What happened?"

"Logan left..."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Guess I'm that insufferable that he couldn't stand spending another minute with me."

"He spent whole months with you, Wade."

"Sure, but did he even have a choice? I basically kidnapped him and threw him in a fucking new universe. I'm like an old creepy guy in a van. He was just waiting for a chance to run off. And he did."

"Come here, let's get you some tea." Al gestures for Wade to follow her to the kitchen, and he does, taking the shirt in his hands with him.

"Actually, I could use some cocaine right now. And you could use the cure for blindness to see how heartbroken I am for tea." He remarks, following behind her, dogpool following Wade. "Try not to break any cups this time."

Al puts sets a kettle in the stove and turns it on as Wade sits on a chair, all droopy and his eyes red.

"Did he take anything with him? Any money? Clothes? How do you know he won't just come back?"

"No, nothing. He must be wandering the streets like a lost puppy right now. And I just know."

"I think you boys are just too stupid to communicate properly. If you talked about this shit-"

"Oh, he talked plenty, believe me. He ran his mouth about how much of a joke I am."

"Oh, cut the self-loathing crap. That was before then. You two have been acting like an old married gay couple for the last months, don't give me that. You don't see the way he looks at you."

"Oh, and you do?!"

"I don't have to see it to know that guy would throw himself in the fire for you. If he ran off, then it's probably because the idiot read your sad little kitten act like a sign he's not welcomed."

"What-"

"Shut up. Now, if you don't grow a pair of balls for once and try to find him, I sweat to god-"

"I wouldn't even know where to look. And I doubt it he'd even want me to."

"So you better start right away. Go."

"What about my tea-"

"Go."

...

The last few days were rough. And that's saying something, considering all Logan went through in his universe.

He didn't have a place to stay anymore, so he just wandered around and got from bar to bar. He didn't have any cash on him, so he would flash his claws out to the barman as a threat when he was asked about his bill.

He felt like a goddamn monster, so why not act like it. He's not proud of it, but it's been months he didn't have a drink, and all he wanted was to drown the overwhelming feelings eating at him.

He got banned from multiple bars, always hopping to the next one. Getting drunk, getting in some fights, wandering around...

He felt like he was back in his universe. He felt so fucking stupid to think maybe he could change. That maybe here he could turn the page, start a new life with Wade.

Turns out the place it's not the problem, he's the fucking problem. He's a disease that destroys everything he touches, and he should know better than to try and have any connection with anyone.

He failed everyone. He failed the X-men by not being there. He failed Charles by going into a murderous spree. He failed Laura by not being the right guy. He failed Wade by being the complete jerk he is.

He wasn't sure how many days it had been since he left. He's smelling bad, and his hair is mess, but all he cares right now is finishing one more bottle. Then, one more, and one more, and...

He feels something - someone - poking him. Logan thinks it may be the barman or the manager, so he pulls his claws out. "Look, bub, I-"

"Heya, Peanut. Gosh, I'm getting deja-vu. Ain't ya?" Logan's eyes focus to see Wade standing next to him wearing his suit and mask, and his heart races quickly. "You're a hard one to find, honey badger. And I'm a mercenary, so-"

"The fuck are you doing here?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Save it, bub. I gave you an easy way out. You should have taken it."

"Come on, let's just talk-"

"Not in the fucking mood." Logan grumbles, suddenly feeling his chest too tight and like the walls were closing on him. He stumbles while getting off the chair and heading outside with heavy steps, hearing an angry voice behind the counter as he leaves without paying.

He walks out of the bar, rushing somewhere through the empty street, nightly darkness everywhere. Where? Where the fuck was he rushing to?

He hears a bell noise and other footsteps behind him.

"Fine! I get it, alright?! I'm the worst damn piece of crap that you could possibly be stuck with! You were right, ok? I'm everything you said I am. I'd run off, too." Wade shouts, his broken voice making Logan halt in his steps. "But at least let me return the favor of you saving my universe. Let me try and find you somewhere where you don't have to deal with me-"

"It was never about that." Logan grunts, his heart aching like it was about to break.

How could Wade possibly think it was about that?

"What?"

"I'm poison, bub." Logan sighs, finally turning around. "I destroy everything I touch. I hurt everyone around me, I hurt you. I don't deserve you taking me in. I don't deserve your affection or your family. I shouldn't have thought that there was more to my life than being the miserable monster I am and living with the consequences of my own actions. You got the worst you could possibly have, Wade. I'm just doing you the favor of retracting myself before I fuck everything up beyonde repair." Logan could feel his throat tight like a knot as he fought back stubborn tears.

Wade was stunned, silent for a few seconds before he took off his mask and gave Logan the most puppy dog eyes he ever saw, his eyes glossy with tears matching his own.

"You're an fucking idiot." Wade simply stated, a sad smile in his lips. "You're not a monster. And you're far from the worst I could have. I owe my whole world to you. I know you think I'm a joke, but I couldn't ask for a better-"

"I don't think you're a joke." He interrupted.

"But... in the Honda Odyssey, back at the void..." Wade replies, hearing a chuckle that held nothing but sadness.

Fuck. It never came to Logan's mind that what he said that day actually stuck to Wade. He is an idiot. Those words felt so distant, so different from what he felt now for the merc. After all those months they lived together, getting all domestic and shit. Wade crawled into his heart that had felt dead for years and got a space there.

"That was before, bub. I didn't even really know you, of course now I don't think that shit I said."

"But you did... Back then." Wade looks down, his voice low.

"I'm sorry..." Logan says, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. "You didn't deserve that. I was a jerk. I still am, but... You make me want to be better, bub. It's stupid, but... You kidnapping me was probably the best thing that ever happened to me in years, and I was just... so scared I fucked it up too, like everything else."

Wade chuckles, and his eyes brighten as he looks at Logan, his heart feels lighter at hearing those words.

"You didn't." Wade gets closer, his hand resting at Logan's shoulder. "You're wanted. Loved."

The care and gentleness in Wade's touch melts Logan, he leans closer too.

"Come back home."

Those words alone broke him.

For so long, he didn't have a home. How could he have ever taken this one for granted?

"Alright, bub."

It was like clockwork when their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss, them holding each other closely as if they both feared the other would disappear into thin air any second. It felt so natural. Their hearts were calm and frantic at the same time.

Suddenly, there were fireworks sounds and colorful lights surrounding them, and they could hear people chanting happily in the background.

𝘖𝘩.

So it was New Year's already.

They kept their lips together for a few seconds as fireworks popped and formed colorful patterns in the sky. When they pulled away, their eyes were filled with longing and pure affection.

"You're stinky." Wade comments with a smile even though he keeps Logan close. Logan chuckles.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Come on. Let's get you home and make you a nice warm bath, peanut. Blind Al and Mary Puppins are missing you." Wade says while putting his arms around Logan's waist as he guides him their way home.

"Just them?"

"No." Wade replies. "Not just them."

[rainroses45]

If I see one more plant!

𖧧description: You happen to be pregnant with a certain angel's baby, and with great power comes great responsibility... so here is how your powers and hormones give the Winchesters several heart attack...enjoy? Castiel x Pregnant Fem! Reader 𖧧a/n: I am obsessed with poison ivy's powers and so I was like hmmmmm "I should write this" and I did (Not Edited) 𖧧song Inspo: Kiwi - Harry Styles 𖧧warning: uummm none that I know of except maybe that pregnant reader gets emotional a lot BUT CAN YOU BLAME HER SHE IS TRYING HER BEST

The first time your powers when haywire was at a small-town department store when you were four months pregnant. Nothing out of the ordinary, nor the usual places the Winchesters frequented, but after a long hunt, they all decided a little downtime wouldn’t hurt especially since they found out you were pregnant.

The Winchesters had all sorts of equipment-guns, knives, books, *cough cough* trauma- but booster seats, cribs, and diapers, not so much. So with that in mind, they didn't argue when you dragged them out to different department stores.

Sam was poking around the electronics section ( his computer screen was stuck on busty asian beauties. com again), Dean was trying on a ridiculous-looking novelty hat, and you were wandering the aisles, following a trail of pink and blue onesies, cute little shoes, and soft blankets.

You hadn’t been feeling emotional at all that morning—really, you hadn’t. The pregnancy was going well, the baby was healthy, and you had Castiel by your side. What could go wrong?

Then, you spotted it: a tiny pair of shoes. They were so small and cute, pink with little flowers on them. Your heart absolutely melted.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your eyes going wide. “They’re just… they’re so tiny! And adorable! Oh my god, what if… what if they… the baby wears them, and I'm having a little baby girl! Oh look they have them in blue too and—and… I just can’t handle this!”

Dean, who had been half-heartedly inspecting a display of bizarre looking mannequins, turned at the sound of your voice. “What the hell is going on over there?”

Before anyone could answer, you started tearing up. Big, dramatic, teary-eyed sobs as your emotions got the best of you. “It’s so cute! This is so cute! OMG why is everything here so cute?!”

Castiel, who had been silently standing by, watching the situation unfold, immediately stepped forward, his face softening in concern. “Y/N, sweetheart, it’s okay. Just… breathe. I understand the tiny items are cute.”

But it was too late for your boyfriend's soft words to soothe you. Your powers had already started to react to the uncontrollable emotions. Tiny flowers began sprouting from the ground beneath your feet. They were delicate little blooms—daisies, roses, violets—pushing through the cracked, textile floor. The flowers spread out around you, their sweet fragrance filling the air, and color overshadowing the cute clothing.

Dean, who had been watching you with a mix of confusion and curiosity, with a hint of amusement, quickly turned to Sam. “Okay, this I did not sign up for.”

Sam was trying to hold back his laughter, but when a single daisy bloomed in the middle of his shoe, he couldn’t help it. “Dude, you’re telling me you didn’t think this would happen? She’s practically the real life poison ivy!”

Dean shot Sam a glare. “Not the point, Sammy. We need to figure out how to fix this before we turn this store into the weirdest garden party ever.”

Meanwhile, while the boys were observing the weird scenario happening some people also were starting to notice. A lady in the aisle who was eyeing the chupones (I don't know what this is called in English sorry) next to you was giving you a curious look, unsure whether she should be worried or mental.

“Uh, hey, ma’am,” Dean said, stepping into her line of sight with a big grin. “Nothing to see here. Just, uh, a bit of… plant therapy going on.” He flashed a grin, trying to divert her attention.

The woman blinked at him, her eyes darting between Dean and the flowers. “Are you… sure? I mean how did the flowers appear out of no where? I mean isn't that a bit odd?”

Sam noticing his brother struggling with getting the lady away from the scene, stepped in, “Oh yeah, it’s totally normal. She’s just… you know, super into horticulture. All natural, totally organic stuff.”

“Yeah, you know,” Dean added with a wink, having no idea what the hell was horticulture was. “Just don’t touch the plants. Some of them bite- fuck." Dean cursed under his breath as he was too late catch his mistake.

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning if she’d accidentally stumbled into a strange dimension or if this was all just an elaborate joke. “I see…” She backed away slowly, nervously laughing while she looked around hoping to see a video camera or something.

Cas on the other hand was doing his best to calm you down. He crouched beside you, gently taking your hands in his, his gaze soft yet filled with concern.

“Y/N, sweetheart, listen to me,” he said in his steady, calming tone. “I know it’s overwhelming, but you need to control your breathing. Focus on me, okay?”

You wiped your tears, sniffling, still a little overwhelmed by the sheer cuteness of the tiny shoes. “But Cas… What if I mess up? What if I’m not a good mom? What if… what if the baby doesn’t like flowers?What if the baby doesn't like the shoes I get them? What if they don't like me? What if I-”

Castiel’s eyes softened even more as he took a deep breath, leaning forward to gently press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re already doing wonderfully. The baby will love whatever you give it—because it will have you. You’ll be perfect.”

You took a shaky breath, your tears subsiding as his words sank in. Slowly, you wiped your tears which seemed to be the same effect of brushing the flowers away from your feet, watching as they melted back into the ground, leaving behind only the faintest trace of green.

Dean and Sam returned to your side, looking almost relieved the situation was under control.

Dean let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Okay, that was fun… but if I ever see a store more than five feet away from a hunt again, I’m gonna have to rethink my life choices.”

Sam chuckled softly. “What, you don’t like shopping with us?”

“I don’t mind it,” Dean said with a grin, “but the next time I see any more flowers in this place, I’m throwing a fit.”

You managed a small laugh as you wiped your eyes, the overwhelming emotions still there but a little easier to manage now. “Thanks, guys. I think I’m okay now. But… seriously, I’m never going near baby shoes again.”

Castiel smiled at you, offering a hand to help you back up. “Perhaps we should just stick to something a bit more practical next time?”

You nodded, still feeling a little sheepish. “Yeah, maybe… like, I don’t know, diapers?”

Dean smirked. “I’m all for the diapers. Less flowers, more action.”

The second time it was a quiet morning, and the everyone had decided to take a much-needed break from hunting. After a long few weeks of tracking down monsters, a little downtime at a cozy diner seemed perfect. You, being six months pregnant, were very excited about food. And when you’d glanced at the menu and seen pancakes, you didn’t hold back. You ordered everything—pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, and just about every side dish they had to offer. You were starving. Nothing was going to get in your way between you and your maple syrup.

You slid into the booth with Dean and Sam, Castiel sitting beside you on the opposite end of the brothers. He did look a little out of place in the cozy diner with his trench coat still on, but so did a pregnant lady wearing a Bluey onesie, and two other guys in cowboy outfits.

The brothers were already halfway through their coffee, talking about the next hunt, but your mind was purely focused on the delicious serving of food coming your way.

Dean glanced at you with an amused grin. “You really going to eat all that, or is that just for show?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. “I’m pregnant, Dean. I feel like I just ordered an appetizer. Do not judge me.”

Sam laughed softly. “ Leave her alone Dean, she is carrying an angel's baby and a superpowered one at that. Let the girl eat whatever she wants."

Dean just shook his head. “Well, just don’t blame me when you can’t move after. I didn’t order the mountain of food.”

Just as you were about to playfully strangle Dean, the waitress brought over your huge order, but something was off. You had your eggs, you had your bacon, waffles, omelet, but something was missing. There was a stack of pancakes for Sam, a stack of pancakes for Dean, and a stack of pancakes for Cas— everyone got fluffy stack of pancakes except for you.

“Hey,” you said, frowning at the waitress. “Excuse me Miss, where are my pancakes?”

The waitress blinked, clearly flustered. “Oh! I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ll get them right out for you.” She hurried away not before giving you a smile.

You sighed, staring at your plate, which now had way too many waffles and not enough pancakes. You pouted slightly. “I really wanted those pancakes…”

Castiel, who had been silently observing, stood up with his usual determination. “I will go get them for you, my beloved Y/N.” He headed toward the counter before anyone could stop him, his eyes already focused on the task at hand.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Cas, relax. It’s not like it’s a big deal—”

But before he could finish his sentence, two women seated by the counter noticed Castiel, eyes widening as they took in his rugged, angelic demeanor. They exchanged a quick glance, their faces lighting up with interest.

One of them, bold and confident, immediately stood up and walked toward him. “Hey there, handsome,” she said, flashing a playful smile. “I couldn’t help but notice… you’re not from around here. What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Castiel, oblivious to the subtleties of anytype of human interactions, blinked in confusion. “I am simply retrieving pancakes for my girlfriend.”

The woman laughed, clearly not getting the hint. “Oh, you have a girlfriend? That’s cute." She dragged her freshly done nails over his chest. "But I bet she’d let you have a little fun, right?”

You, sitting back at the booth, started to feel that familiar irritation rise up, and your fingers twitched. Maybe a little too much.

Before you could stop it, the ground beneath you began to tremble slightly, and tiny cacti started sprouting from the floor, little spinky plants pushing up through the checkered text tiles and spreading outward. A few even shot out from the booth’s cushions, their thorns digging into the fabric around you.

Dean and Sam exchanged a panicked glance, both of them groaning in unison. “Not again,” Sam muttered, rubbing his temples.

Dean just sighed, glancing over at the growing cactus problem. “I swear, Cas better wrap this up before we turn this place into the weirdest garden party.... again!”

You were too far gone to notice their worried glances. Every little flirtatious giggle from the women sent your emotions spiraling, and more and more cacti grew—thick, spinky, sharp, cacti. There were even a few sprouting from nearby tables and counters, causing customers to take wide-eyed steps back.

The women, realizing that Castiel wasn’t giving them the attention they wanted, glanced around nervously. They tried to get a little closer to him, but he was still looking at them with that same confused expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a frown, “but I am in a committed relationship with my amazing, gorgeous girlfriend, and we are expecting a child together. I cannot- no I will not accept your advances because I find your lack of beauty and personality disgusting. So please let me return back to my girlfriend, or I will have to fry your face.”

The women blinked, their smiles faltering. “Oh… uh, I didn’t know you were expecting,” one of them said, her voice wavering. “Well, uh, congratulations, I guess… sorry to bother you.” They quickly backed away, clearly embarrassed, but your plant-related meltdown was far from over. A faint whispers of, "please don't kill us."

"Asshats." Cas muttered as he watched the two ladies walk away, patches of Cactus sticking out of their skin.

Dean and Sam rushed over to your side of the booth and tried calming you down. Sam immediately started pushing the closest cactus plant down into the ground. “Please, Y/N, just calm down! We’ll get your pancakes! We’ll get everything you want!”

Dean took the opposite approach, shoving a plate of his own pancakes toward you, trying to distract you. “Here! Just have mine! Pancakes! See? Everything’s fine!”

You looked at both of them, your eyes wide with irritation as another cactus popped up in the middle of the table. “I don’t want your pancakes, Dean! I want my own pancakes! I want my own boyfriend! I want my loyal boyfriend to bring me pancakes!”

More cacti began sprouting around the booth, some growing from the floor, while others were now tangled between the chairs. Sam was frantically trying to push them back down, his face a mix of exhaustion and exasperation. “Why is she always so persistent when it comes to the plants?! Why couldn’t she just shoot a man like the rest of us?!”

Dean held up his hands, trying to calm you down. “Okay, okay. No need to start a whole desert in here. Cas! Tell her we’re fine. Tell her you already turned down the STD whores!”

Castiel returned to the table, completely unaware of the level of destruction the plants had caused. He placed the pancakes in front of you, a serene smile on his face. “Here you go, beautiful. Your pancakes, I even got them with whip cream.” He placed a kiss on your head. "Would you like me to cut them up for you?"

You took a deep breath as you reached for your pancakes, but you couldn’t help but smile at him even as you felt like you were going to twist his guys inside and out. He’d turned the girls down. And so calmly, too. It was like it wasn’t even a second thought.

Dean and Sam were still working together to keep plants from growing into the booth’s walls. Sam was pushing one of the cacti down, while Dean was shoving another out the door, his eyes twitching with disbelief.

“Guys, I swear,” Dean muttered, “if I have to fight off one more cactus, I’m getting the hell out of here.”

“You’re lucky we’re not going to die from these plants,” Sam grumbled, attempting to swat at a rogue vine that had started climbing up a nearby window.

You laughed softly, the last of the cacti finally retracting as you calmed down. You were feeling better, but now the diner was definitely looking a lot more like a desert garden. “Sorry, guys. I just… I couldn’t help it.”

Castiel smiled down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “It’s alright, darling. I would never allow anyone to take my attention from you.”

You smiled, feeling a little sheepish. “Thanks, Cas. You really handled that well.”

Dean and Sam, clearly exhausted from the plant chaos, collapsed back into the booth with you, still eyeing the last few cacti with suspicion.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Dean said, eyeing the growing cactus garden with disbelief. “Next time, we’re sticking to delivery pizza, okay? No more pancakes, no more plants.”

The third time seemed to be no different. It was another quiet morning on the road. The Impala had made a pit stop at a gas station, and the Winchesters, along with Castiel, were inside grabbing snacks and supplies. You were trying to hold it together, but being six months pregnant made everything a little… well, more difficult. You’d been looking forward to getting out of the car and stretching your legs, but the moment you stepped out of the car, you felt the weight of your growing belly.

It had taken a toll on your body. With new stretch marks, and odd cramps and cravings, you didn’t expect to out grow your clothing so fast.

Inside the convenience store, you were eyeing some snacks when Sam, in his usual well-meaning but oblivious way, made the comment that would unintentionally set things off.

“Y/N,” Sam said, glancing up from the bag of chips he was holding, “I think you should get bigger pants or something. I mean, it might help you feel more comfortable, you know? I don’t want you to strain yourself or the baby.” He smiled, thinking the simple hardships of the beginning of motherhood would be appreciated by the soft comfort of jeggings.

You froze. The words hit you harder than Sam could’ve known. Of course, you were aware of your growing belly, but you weren’t expecting to be reminded of it so bluntly (it was no where close to being blunt). You gave him a tight smile, but inside, it stung.

Dean noticed the shift in your mood almost immediately. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice low and concerned.

But before Sam could even register the impact of his words, you felt the anger and hurt bubbling up inside you. The next thing anyone knew, thick vines began sprouting up around you, twisting and curling out from the ground, wrapping themselves tightly around Sam’s legs, his arms, and even his waist. He froze, eyes wide in shock as the plants continued to tighten around him.

“Y/N, what the hell?!” Sam gasped, struggling against the vines. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Dean stepped forward, panic rising in his voice. “No, no, not again—come on, Y/N, you gotta calm down.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a can of weed repellent, spraying it in the air in an attempt to keep the plants at bay. “I knew this would come in handy.”

But no matter how much Dean sprayed, the vines didn’t seem to back off. Sam was now fully encased in a web of thick, green vines that pulled tighter with every second, making it hard for him to move.

“Y/N, please—I didn’t mean it that way!” Sam was practically pleading now, his voice muffled by the plant growth surrounding him.

Dean, frantic and trying to get to you, turned to Castiel. “Cas, help! She’s gone full jungle, and Sam’s about to become plant food!”

Cas, who had been silently observing the whole thing with wide eyes, turned to you with a soft, comforting expression. “Aww, sweetheart, it’s okay. He didn’t mean to upset you.”

Dean shot Cas a look, as if to say, Are you kidding me right now?

“It’s not okay,” Dean snapped. “Cas, help me! We’re running out of weed repellent, and Sam is literally about to get swallowed by the vines!”

“Those are actually not weeds they are-“ “They could be dancing salsa beans for all I care help me!”

Castiel looked at Dean for a moment, before turning his attention back to you. He took a slow step toward you, his voice gentle. “Y/N, I know you’re upset, but it’s okay. Sam didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You were still angry, but hearing Cas’ calm tone seemed to ease the tension a little. The vines wrapped around Sam loosened, just slightly, but it was enough for him to gasp for air. “I swear, I didn’t mean anything by it, Y/N. Please… I just thought you might be more comfortable, that’s all. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings I’m so sorry.”

You glanced at Sam, then to Castiel, who was smiling softly at you. The reassurance in his voice had a calming effect, but the vines—now with a mind of their own—had a different idea. They snapped back at Sam one last time, tightening around his chest, almost as if to say, this is what happens when you mess with my girl.

Dean, now frantically spraying more weed repellent, hissed, “Cas, please do something! We’re losing Sam to the vines!”

Castiel stepped closer to you, his hand gently resting on your arm. “Y/N, honey, just breathe. Everything’s fine. Sam didn’t know how his words affected you.”

Dean, now out of repellent, was genuinely losing his patience. “Cas, seriously, do something! He’s gonna get tangled in the damn plants forever if you don’t!”

You took a deep breath, the vines finally relaxing around Sam, though he was still stuck. You raised an eyebrow at Dean’s frantic expression, your anger dissipating into something more mischievous.

“Oh sorry,” you said, your tone finally softening. “I’m sorry Sam, I just- I don’t know what came over me it’s been hard controlling everything you know?” The vines retreated slowly, leaving Sam tangled up in a few stray leaves, looking slightly defeated.

Dean let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Thank God. If I had to deal with you two and the plants much longer, I was about to set the whole diner on fire.”

Sam, now free of most of the vines, shot you a sheepish look. “No it’s my fault. Sorry, really. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. But I guess I should’ve worded that differently.”

You finally gave him a small smile, the tension breaking. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m sorry for letting my powers get the best out of me. It’s hard to tell wether it’s the baby or me who’s in control.”

Dean threw up his hands, looking exasperated. “It’s not okay! You almost turned this place into Jurassic Park! We can’t keep dealing with this every time you get upset!”

Cas, with his trademark calm demeanor, reached over to gently rub your back. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You just need to know it’s okay to express your feelings.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the comfort.

Dean rubbed his temples, clearly exhausted from the ordeal. “I swear, if I have to fight one more damn plant, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Don’t worry, Dean,” you said, laughing softly, “I think we’re done with the plants for now.”

Dean shot a glare at the nearest cactus sprout. “Yeah, well, let’s hope so.”

*Cue the meme*

Dean after not seeing a plant  incident

“wow i haven’t stubbed my toe in 5 months” I said with joyous

(you go into labor and cause a whole rainforest)

I was then shot 57 times in the chest

[supercap2319]

An accidental spell caused Peter and Y/M to switch bodies. Now, Y/N was in Peter's body, and Peter in Y/N's. Peter stumbled into Avengers Tower, his mind reeling. He spotted Y/N casually lounging on the couch, his phone in hand. Except... that wasn't Y/N. It was Peter, in Y/N's body. He blinked, shaking his head. "Oh my god... We switched bodies. Fuck, this is so weird."

"You're telling me. I never realized how big your ass was, Peter." Peter's cheeks flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and shock crossing his features. He quickly glanced down at his unfamiliar body. "Geez, could you maybe not comment on my physical attributes right now? We've got a bigger issue here."

"I know." Y/N stood up, now only being Peter's height of five feet and seven inches tall now. "Peter, you have my chaos magic now. You can cast spells. Use Telekinesis. Fly. And I...can crawl walls? What is it that you do?"

Peter blinked, processing Y/N's list of abilities. "I shoot webs, obviously. And climb walls. Apparently, that's not a big deal anymore in this ridiculous scenario." He sighed, running a hand through his hair—well, Y/N's hair now, "Okay, focus."

"You have magic. Use it to reverse this."

Y/N—Peter nodded, focusing his thoughts. He tried to think of a spell that would reverse the switch, using his newfound Chaos magic. "Revertus corpus!" He shouted, his hands outstretched. Nothing happened. "Fuck, it's not that simple, is it?"

"It's not." Y/N sighed. "Chaos magic takes a while to master. You can't just make up a spell and think it will work. We need another plan." Peter slumped onto the couch, frustration etched on his face. "Great, so not only am I stuck in your body, but I also can't magic my way back. Fan-fucking-tastic." He groaned, burying his face in his hands—Y/N's hands.

"Maybe I—you can convince Doctor Strange to give us a book on body switching spells without raising suspicion that something is up. Last thing we need to be is busted for this."

Peter peeked through his fingers, considering Y/N's suggestion. He scratched his chin thoughtfully, a habit he realized he'd unconsciously picked up from Y/N himself. "Alright, that's not the worst idea. Doctor Strange is used to dealing with bizarre metaphysical problems."

"But you have to act like you're me. If he catches that you're not me, then he'll tell Tony, and we'll both be in deep shit." Y/N said. Peter's eyes widened, realizing the gravity of the situation. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the challenge ahead. "Act like you, huh? No pressure." He attempted a chuckle, but it came out strained. "Okay, let's go over some...Y/N basics."

Y/N nods. "Say something that I would say."

Peter cleared his throat, trying to mimic Y/N's smooth, confident tone. "Look, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I'm not interested. I've got more important things to deal with than your drama." He frowned, realizing it sounded a bit too harsh ."Again. With a Sokovian accent." Y/N urged, sitting on the couch.

The Spiderman closed his eyes, focusing on the subtle accent he'd picked up from spending time with Y/N. He opened them again, his voice taking on the faint hint of a Russian lilt. "Nyet, my friend, I do not have the time for such trivialities."

Y/N smiles. "Not bad, Pete. My turn. He closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts before opening them, looking excited and full of adrenaline. "It was the most amazing thing that’s ever happened! So Mr. Stark was like, “Hey, Underoos!” and I just sort of flipped in and I stole Cap’s shield. I was like, “Hey, what’s up, everybody?” And then... Mr. Stark gave me a new suit!" Y/N mimiced Peter's excited and nerdy nature.

Peter stared at Y/N, dumbfounded. He couldn't believe how perfectly Y/N had nailed his excitable, nerdy persona. A slow grin spread across his face. "Wow, Y/N... You really do know me better than I thought."

[majinael]

DEFENDING HIS EGO

"But seriously, that Kaiser guy is way too arrogant. I can't stand him. I don’t get how anyone can be friends with a guy like that."

The words cut through the chatter in the cafeteria as I sat with a few of my teammates and their friends. My ears perked up, and I couldn’t help but glance at the speaker like he’d just declared the sky green.

"If I were a player like him, I'd probably act the same way, to be honest," I replied, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them.

I hadn’t planned to engage, but the comment was too ridiculous to ignore. My response made him pause, glancing around at his friends for backup before shooting back with a sneer.

"Oho, does someone have a little crush? Should I remind you he doesn’t even know you? And if he did, he’d probably treat you like his little lapdog… what’s his name again? Ness, right?"

My jaw clenched. I’d spoken to Kaiser before—briefly, as a novice trainer—but it wasn’t the nightmare everyone made it out to be. Few had the chance to interact with Bastard München’s ace, so how would they know? What really got under my skin wasn’t the trash talk—it was the insecurity practically dripping from his words.

"Alright, on that note, I’ll leave you to your mocking and shit-talking better players. Maybe that’s the secret formula for you to finally score something."

I stood up and left quietly, knowing any further discussion was a waste of breath. With guys like that, the conversation would only circle back to their egos.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that day, I found myself in the nursery, discussing recovery with a nurse about a player I was supposed to train. He’d injured himself during a match, and we were listing through what to avoid. As I exited, someone familiar slipped into the room behind me. I didn’t get a chance to see who it was before the door closed.

Turning back down the corridor, I stopped short. Standing in front of me, as unmistakable as ever, was Bastard München’s Number 10.

Kaiser.

It was rare to see him wandering these parts of the facility. I could only assume whoever had entered the nursery was connected to him somehow.

"Unusual of you to wander around these boring corridors, Kaiser," I said casually, my gaze flicking to his face. His cold expression softened slightly, though his cocky smile didn’t fade.

"Sometimes they’re not so boring," he replied with a shrug.

"Oh? How so?" I asked, looking around theatrically, searching for whatever "interesting" thing he was referring to. When I looked back at him, I caught him pointing at me, and my brows furrowed in confusion.

Before I could say anything, he reached out, placing a hand on my head and ruffling my hair.

"I can’t lie—defending me like that earlier? Didn’t expect it. I surely didn’t know you cared so much," he said softly, though the teasing undertone was unmistakable.

My face betrayed me instantly. My ears burned, and my cheeks flushed hot.

He overheard that? Does he think I’m some kind of fangirl now?

"I-I... If it were any other good player, I’d have said the same!" I stammered, trying to regain some composure. But I didn’t move away as his hand slid down to my chin, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch only deepened my embarrassment, my cheeks now practically glowing.

"Denial... how cute," he said, his voice low and almost amused. "But I never said I hated having a little fangirl."

There it was.

With a smirk, he let go and walked past me, heading into the nursery, likely to check on whoever had summoned him here in the first place. I was left standing alone in the empty corridor, completely flustered, already overthinking our next interaction.

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HIIIII ! This is my first fanfiction on this blog, very short and simple but I think a very good training to not get Kaiser OOC, I'll try my best to keep it up, aswell as I'll try being as gender neutral as possible in the future (if possible) but for this one I really wanted to use the term either fangirl/fanboy, the term sounds so ridiculous and it definitely is something Kaiser would say imo. I hope you can still dive into this short fan fiction by replacing the word for whatever works for you. Byyye <3

[erinwantstowrite]

How do you think Peter would react to the fact that Bruce technically trained under Santa?

like me. NO FUCKING WAY DID THAT HAPPEN. i literally refuse to believe this was mentioned just now as a little side thing he can FUCK OFF. because this implies he's been aware of Santa's existence for YEARS and you do NOT lose your joy and whimsy of learning that SANTA CLAUS is real. fuck off. now every time i read his comics and he does like literally anything i'll be sitting there knowing this mf trained with Santa Claus. it makes him sound even more ridiculous and thus he is not allowed to be broody anymore.

Oh your son died? SANTA CLAUS IS REAL. (/j)

also, i'm not quite sure if this is the case, but i was under the impression that the YJ were the only ones to know Santa existed and that he was kind of dead for a while (?) which i found infinitely funnier than Batman having trained with him for a little bit. they got Santa Claused (the movie) and told no one. it's so much better if absolutely no one else believes that Santa Claus is real besides the kid heroes (and Superman). i think it would have been better if the Santa was magic that literally couldn't be percieved by people unless they believed he was real, meaning most adults can't see him, even magic ones

[thewitchblue]

"I told you not to touch that."

You had warned a very curious Tim repeatedly. This one wasn't anything harmful. You simply didn't want him touching your potions. It was a very annoying potion to make.

You had left it boiling on a burner while you got a snack, but Tim shut off the burner to touch your half-baked potion. You had no idea how long he's had it off the burner, but it wasn't boiling anymore.

"What does it do?"

He didn't have the guts to do anything but hold the boiling hot beaker. At least, not in front of you. He felt like he was a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"It was SUPPOSED to be a present for Jason, jackass. Now it's ruined."

You aggressively took the breaker from Tim and borderline slammed it down on your windowsill. You stormed over to your burner and turned it on again. Maybe you can salvage it. It had stopped boiling because Tim was too curious for his own good.

"Oh."

Tim looked embarrassed. You didn't bother to tell him it was liquid weed, so Jason could stop stinking up the manor when he smokes.

You were sick of getting accidentally drugged because Jason left brownies out without a "do not eat" sign. You think Jason secretly likes drugging people, but there was an unspoken agreement: shut up and leave the drugged person alone.

You were hoping this potion would get him to go to you instead of some shady drug dealer, but Tim doesn't need to know any of this. This is between you and Jason.

"Do me a favour and never touch my stuff. My next potion won't be so friendly."

You grumbled. You were the family witch. Yes, the stereotypical potions and general magic. You learned from Constantine and Zatanna how to use spells, but potions are where you shine.

You are called The Alchemist at night and are feared mainly due to how prepared you are. You had a potion for anything and everything.

The villains actively avoid you as a result of your preparation. You're seriously more prepared and paranoid than Batman in a lot of cases.

Scarecrow is the only one salty enough to go after you. He wanted you as an apprentice, but he's not getting anywhere by kidnapping you on the occasion. Come on, just give him one potion that he can replicate if he can't have you on his side!

Joker found you boring, Bane doesn't want to tango when you take away his muscles with a potion, Ra cares more about physical combat, and the list goes on. It's ridiculous, truly.

You were actually quite close to Poison Ivy, however, and she supplies you with various plants for you to use. You even send her photos to update her on how the plant is blooming with a thank you text (yes, you have her number, score!)

Being a Wayne helps with the potions as well. You can get you an endless supply of various metals, chemicals, and powders to work with alongside the plants. You often question if you are on a government list somewhere. It doesn't look good to order 15 kilograms of gunpowder and potassium nitrate.

The family doesn't know any of this, but then again, they don't know much about what you do. They rarely ask questions about your potions except nosy Tim, who refuses to leave your room until he knows more about whatever potion you are making at the time.

"I was curious!"

He tried to defend himself, which failed as you retorted,

"And you could have had your finger dissolved if you touched it! For the brains of the family, you really are stupid."

Does he have no sense of self-preservation? Why on earth would he touch a mysterious liquid? Survival of the fittest indeed.

Tim scoffed. How else is he supposed to find out more information if he knows nothing about the process? You had all your potions memorised! No recipe book, no paper trail, you even have a witch/magic users pack between Zatanna and Constantine, so they won't tell the family anything. He can't even identify all the plants you use so he could test them.

"You're lucky I make weapons for you guys. Some of this stuff takes weeks! I have 9 of you guys running around, using MY supply because you guys don't use your potions wisely. What if I needed the paralysing potion for Bane, but uh-oh, you stole it from me, so I can't do anything."

Tim had no excuse. He's, admittedly, stolen more than a handful of potions to reload his weapons, and he's not the only one. He tried to smooth over your irritation. In a nervous tone, he said,

"I'm sorry. I would be surprised if you didn't notice the missing potions, though."

Damn right, you'd notice it. What kind of alchemist would you be if you didn't notice your missing stash and resupply? Granted, you also have the power of bullshit spells that you learned from John and Zatanna, so you aren't entirely helpless, but it's annoying reaching for an imaginary potion on patrol and needing to trudge all the way home just to restock.

"I think you need to keep your hands to yourself. I might have to redo this potion now. Please tell me you didn't touch the potion itself."

You wouldn't know how to handle a high Tim Drake. You tried to keep your eyes on him while putting your potion back on the burner. Is the weed in his bloodstream, or are you safe to continue your drug cooking?

He gave an awkward smile. He may or may not have smelled the potion. It smelled like a freshly mowed lawn, and the tiny sip he took tasted like an apple. When all you got was silence, you groaned and said in disbelief,

"Oh, fuck, of course you did."

Just your luck. The drug will hit Tim any second now. You ran a stressed hand through your hair before turning to him and saying sternly,

"You are going to sleep on my bed and let the potion run its course. Do. Not. Leave. This. Room. Got it?"

Tim looked confused, but what does he know about magical potions? If you say let it work through him, he'll follow instructions. He sat on your bed and then it hit him.

"Woah, what the hell did you do to me? Were you trying to lace Jason with something?"

You frowned and physically pushed him onto the bed. You quickly swaddled him like a baby in a sea of blankets.

He can not leave this room. Bruce would murder you. You were supposed to be the good one. The only one who caused no problems (to their knowledge).

"Tim, look at me."

Tim did not, in fact, look at you. He was distracted by all the plants you have in your room. Did someone drop off more plants in the time he's last been in here?

"Did you get more plants?"

You huffed. You didn't. They have only grown since he's been snooping in your room. You tried to get his attention by snapping your fingers and calling his name,

"Tim?"

When he continued to look around with rapidly reddening eyes, you squished his face in your hand and forcefully pushed his face until it faced you.

"Tim, you are going to sleep. I'm going to play some music for you and we are going to forget all about this when you feel better."

You can make a potion to erase recent memories. Tim can't know you are making drugs in your room. Nobody can know except Jason.

You decided to turn on some calming music in hopes he would drift off, which seemed to be working as his eyes drooped, and he smiled at you like he knew something you didn't. He was lost in his thoughts, clearly.

You wondered what was going on in that big brain of his. It didn't matter. He can blaze in blissful peace while you deal with his mess.

You kept the music quiet and soft like he was at a spa. You hoped the combined warmth of the blankets with the soft music would work faster.

With a sigh, you stood up from your position at his bedside. This is not good. Tim needs to learn when to leave your stuff alone. What if you boiled his blood or poisoned him? It's best to leave the witchcraft to the witch.

You watched him like a hawk. His thoughts seemed to be slowed and sluggish. You supposed you can bottle your potion after all. Should you put a dropper on it? Normally, your potions soak through the skin and clothes, but you were extremely careful with this one.

You gave his forehead a small kiss once he fell asleep. You went to your bottles while shaking your head in disapproval. You were very happy with the results of the potion, not so much with the tester. You would hate to think about what could have happened if you didn't swaddle him. Would he be walking around high and babbling about funny potions? Probably. He was already hallucinating pleasantly by the time he passed out.

You were so lucky that Tim didn't get the potentially dangerous symptoms. You can handle a mellowed out Tim, but not if he was going through psychosis.

After successfully bottling and hiding the potion, you pulled out one of your memory potions.

You felt bad drugging him then making him forget about it, but you can't have him telling anybody, whether accidentally or purposefully.

You know you could just tell Bruce that Tim touched a memory potion on your burner, and he'd believe you, but why draw in the eyes of Batman? He would want to know about all future potion making.

You frowned as you put one drop on his forehead and watched it sink in. He won't remember any of this.

You were a bit overprepared, but you were Batman and Constantine trained. Of course you'd have some weaselly way out of accidentally drugging someone.

Oh, John would be so proud of you.

[swanimagines]

Hello! So I've been reading a lot of your works *cough* mainly Kaz and Pin *cough* and I was wondering if I could request one? If so, A6 from your dialogue prompt list with Kaz Brekker. Have a great day <3

Prompt: A6. “Ugh, people are so weird.”

A/N: I still can't look at him without remembering I actually have HUGGED that man and I get to do it once more in two months I-

RUMOUR TOLD ME

Ketterdam, in its darkness and grimness, was the last place Kaz would expect to find someone like you. You, a cheery, warm person who believed all people were good unless proven otherwise. And even working with the Dregs hadn’t wiped that attitude off you, which had always puzzled Kaz. And maybe it was the way you always saw the good in everyone was what made him develop feelings for you. Or rather, as he convinced himself, he was maybe slightly interested, but not necessarily romantically.

Either way, he treated you like he had always treated you, as another Crow, and he thought everyone else thought so too. And maybe that’s why it was so shocking when you came to the Slat one day, laughing as you slid to sit at the bar counter, one stool away from Kaz.

He stared at you for a moment, and you locked eyes with him. “I just heard the funniest thing.”

“Can’t wait to hear it,” Kaz mumbled, glancing at the barkeeper who immediately started preparing a drink for him.

“There’s a rumour circling around that Kaz Brekker has a crush,” you snickered, and Kaz immediately froze. “And the crush being me. Ugh, people are so weird.”

A short silence descended upon you, and your giggling echoed in Kaz’s mind.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Get it together, Brekker.

“And you find it funny?” Kaz grumbled, which earned a frown from you.

“Well, we are complete opposites. I mean, I guess people who sent this rumour going are probably avid romance novel readers whose favourite trope is ‘opposites attract’ but I have no idea what kind of drink they took to get themselves so drunk that they spun out this kind of theory.” You shrugged, gesturing to the barkeeper to prepare a drink for you too.

Kaz scowled. “Those kinds of rumours should be cut off before they have a chance to fly.”

You laughed. “Oh come on Kaz, it’s just some children spinning stories for their entertainment, it won’t hurt anyone.”

Kaz almost barked at you, telling you that children of Ketterdam should know better than joke with things like that before someone teaches them what it’s like to lose the fun in their life forever, but he held himself back. His mind momentarily filled with pictures of what could happen if the wrong kind of people found out about that rumour and believed it. You’d disappear and eventually come back to the Slat, carried by Matthias, with a knife in your heart, your body already cold, eyes open, beginning to rotten, your mouth opened in an eternal scream–

Kaz shook his head, forcing himself to stop thinking about that scenario. 

“Rumours are dangerous,” he said, leaning towards you slightly. “Even ridiculous ones.”

You scoffed, waving your hand. “I know, but no one is going to believe something like that.”

Kaz withdrew, taking his cane and gripping the silver crow head. He wanted to tell you you’re off duty for a while. He wanted to claim he needed help in office work, which would bind you into Slat for a few weeks. He wanted to find whoever is spreading this rumour and warn them off, threaten them. Maybe even break their legs to ensure they won’t sing about it.

But even if that would work, and Kaz knew it would, it could be a sign that the rumour actually had truth to it. It would make him look weak, even if that person would never tell about his visit.

You got the drink and downed it, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, before you looked at Kaz again. “Do you have any tasks for me? If not, Inej said she’d like to have company when she goes to run an errand but if you have something more important to do, I’ll pass on that.”

Kaz clenched his jaw, staring at his still full glass of kvas. “No.” Be careful.

You nodded and disappeared to the crowd, and Kaz told himself to not look at you walking away. And as soon as your steps faded, he downed the drink and stood up, making his way to the attic. He needed to take his mind off of… this, whatever it was.

But of course, on his way, he came across Jesper waiting by Wylan’s door, spinning his other revolver. Kaz already saw from Jesper’s grin what he was going to say, that he had also heard the rumours. “Hey, Boss. Word is you’ve got a crush on our Sunshine the Second.”

Kaz cocked an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think that?”

Jesper stopped spinning his revolver and shrugged. “Well. It’s been obvious for all of us for a while. I suspected it, so I told Nina, and she listened to your heartbeat while our star Sunshine was around, and–”

“And nothing,” Kaz barked. “Whatever you have heard or understood, is not true.”

Jesper cackled, and Kaz wanted nothing more than to stuff the handle of Jesper’s beloved revolver into his throat at that moment. But it was more because he realised everyone knew. His Crows, at least, knew.

When Jesper stopped cackling, his tone was more serious. “But hey, I understand that this… thing isn’t a good thing to be circling around. If you want some of us to go uh, find out who put the rumour to circle in the first place, just tell us.” He winked. “And of course, no telling your beloved.”

Kaz thought, staring at Jesper. He wanted to keep denying it, tell Jesper everyone are idiots, doubt Nina’s skills as a heartrender. But he knew that nothing would work anymore, everything would just confirm their every suspicion, those that were true and those that were not true.

So he nodded. “Deal with it. Quietly.”

Jesper nodded in return. “Always, boss.”

And when Kaz continued ascending the steps, he could almost hear Jesper’s grin. If there had been some doubt in Jesper’s mind, now there most definitely wasn’t.

Kaz knew that his Crows knowing except for you was miles better than the whole Ketterdam knowing. If everyone knew, or if such suspicions would rise to any extent, they would inevitably eventually go straight to rivaling gangs. And at that point, depending on how stupid they were, they could follow the rumour just in case and ambush you.

They would be stupid because if you were killed by a gang, Kaz wouldn’t rest before each one’s guts had painted every wall of their past territory, but they would also be smart because they’d take away the one thing Kaz truly cared about in this world, and it would be the second time around. Kaz wasn’t sure if he would ever recover, which would potentially make him weak in a way, maybe even suicidal with his hunger for bloodshed. He could be the most feared person in all of Kerch for a few weeks, but constantly throwing himself in situations he could get killed would eventually kill him. It could even be his goal, to die fighting and take as many of his enemies with him before that.

But after those little gossipers would be getting caught and warned off, things would maybe become better, and Kaz would be able to forget about this whole mess.

---

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[lvnleah]

— rory’s first christmas | our little love series 🎄

merry christmas! 🤶🎄

find the twelve days of Christmas masterlist here!

You arrived at the house in Whitby just as the sun began to set. The car ride felt like it took forever—four hours of “Are we there yet?” and “How much longer?” had even made Myle seem a little tired. But now you were finally here, and it was worth it.

The front door swung open, and Rich stood there, grinning down at you. “There’s my favourite little troublemaker!” he said, holding his arms out wide.

You giggled, running toward him with Twix clutched under your arm. “I’m not trouble!” you declared, though the smile on your face probably didn’t help your case.

“Oh, I bet you’re not,” Rich said, scooping you up into a big bear hug that made you squeal. “Myle been the one giving your mums trouble on the way here then?”

“Myle’s good! She’s better than Mamma in the car, she complained a lot!” you said with a grin, twisting to look at Viv.

Viv gasped, pretending to be offended. “What did I do?”

“You kept saying ‘watch out, Beth!’” you said, copying Viv’s voice and waving your arms dramatically. “And Mummy said you’re a backseat driver!”

Beth burst out laughing while Viv raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you are definitely trouble,” Viv said, but her smile gave her away as she shook her head and carried the bags inside.

You followed Beth into the living room, your eyes going wide as you spotted the Christmas tree in the corner. It was taller than the one at home, covered in twinkling lights and shiny ornaments. “It’s so big!” you gasped, running over to admire it. 

“Not as big as you,” Beth teased, ruffling your hair as she joined you by the tree.

“I’m not big, I’m little!” you said, spinning around to look up at her.

“Oh really? Who was it that ate an entire chocolate bar in the car and said they were still hungry?”

“That was Myle!” you said quickly, giggling as Beth shook her head.

“Right, Myle’s got hands now, has she?” Beth shot back, grinning as she crouched down beside you. “Come here, Roo. I wanna show you something.”

She pointed to a few ornaments tucked near the middle of the tree. They weren’t shiny like the others—one was a little wooden snowman with paint chipping off, and another was a felt stocking with stitching that looked a little wonky.

“These are from when I was your age,” Beth said, pulling the stocking off the branch and holding it out to you. “Made this one all by myself. Can you tell?”

You tilted your head, inspecting the uneven stitches. “It’s messy,” you said honestly.

Beth gasped, “Messy?! Excuse me, Miss Perfect, but that took me hours.”

You giggled again, your fingers running over the felt. “It’s kinda good, though.”

“Oh, thanks so much,” Beth said, rolling her eyes. She pulled another ornament off the tree, this one a glittery ball with your name on it. “Now, this one’s brand new. Grandad picked it out just for you. What do you think?”

Your eyes lit up as you grabbed the ornament carefully. “It’s mine?”

“Yours,” Beth said. “But you have to hang it up yourself. That’s the rule!”

Viv appeared then, carrying one of the suitcases. “What are we hanging up?”

“Roo’s ornament,” Beth said, watching as you turned to look at the tree, deciding where it should go.

“Put it right at the top!” Viv said, but Beth shook her head.

“Too high. If she puts it there, she’ll grow up thinking she’s a giant.”

You turned to her, your hands on your hips. “I am a giant!”

Beth burst out laughing, pulling you into a hug and tickling your sides. “You are ridiculous, you know that?”

You squealed, twisting away. “Stop, stop!”

“Alright, alright. Come here, I’ll lift you up so you can put it wherever you want,” Beth said, hoisting you up as you held the ornament carefully.

“Here!” you said, pointing to a branch near the middle.

“Good choice, Roo!” Beth said, holding you steady while you slid the ornament onto the branch.

When she set you back down, you turned to Viv and grinned. “Now it’s perfect.”

Viv nodded. “It’s definitely perfect now.”

“Mummy, what’s this one?” You asked Beth, pointing to a little star. 

It was a slightly lopsided ornament of a star made out of popsicle sticks, painted in uneven gold with bits of glitter clinging to it, and a ribbon loop at the top.

“Oh, that’s an old one,” Beth said, reaching out to take it off the branch. She held it in her hands for a moment, her smile softening. “I made this with Nana June and Uncle Ben when I was little, just a bit older than you I think!”

“With Nana June?” you asked curiously. You knew her name and a lot about her. She was always talked about in your house. 

Beth nodded, crouching down so she was on your level. “Yeah, with my mum, your Nana June. It was Christmas Eve, and we had a little craft kit she bought at the shop. Ben wanted to make a snowman, but I insisted on the star. Said it was more ‘Christmassy.’”

“Did you fight?” you asked, giggling because you knew what Beth and Ben were like. 

“Oh, absolutely,” Beth said with a grin, tickling your side lightly. “Ben said my star was rubbish, so Nana June made him make one, too. His wasn’t any better, by the way.”

You giggled, “It’s kinda wonky,” you observed.

“Wonky?” Beth gasped, “You’ve got so much to say about my crafting skills tonight, don’t you? Little miss perfect!”

You giggled harder, holding the star up to Viv. “Look, Mamma, Mummy made this, and it’s wonky!”

Viv crouched down beside the two of you, pretending to inspect the ornament like it was some kind of antique. “Hmm… I don’t know, Roo. It’s got character. I think it’s perfect!”

Beth pointed at Viv. “Thank you! Finally, someone who appreciates fine art.”

You tilted your head at the star, turning it in your hands. “Nana June helped you?”

“She did,” Beth said, her voice softening again. “She helped me hold the glue, and she made sure Ben didn’t stick the popsicle sticks to the table. She was really good at that kind of thing.”

Beth’s smile grew a little wistful as she brushed a piece of hair from your face. “She would’ve loved you, Roo. She always wanted grandkids. She’d have spoiled you rotten.”

“Like Grandad does?”

“Exactly like Grandad,” Beth said, laughing. “Probably even worse. You’d have so much chocolate, you’d bounce off the walls!”

Viv chuckled, slipping an arm around Beth. “We’d never get her to bed.”

You smiled, looking down at the star again. “Can I hang it up?”

Beth nodded, her hand resting on your back. “Of course you can. Pick a good spot.”

You looked at the tree carefully, finally deciding on a branch right near the front. You hung the star up gently, stepping back to admire your work.

“Perfect,” you said proudly.

Beth smiled, pulling you close and kissing the top of your head. “Perfect.”

“Right then!” Rich said, coming back into the living room, “Who wants hot chocolate?”

“Me! Me!” You said, jumping up from Beth’s lap, “I want hot chocolate!”

The next few days passed quickly with Beth, Viv and Rich keeping you occupied with Christmas activities and before you knew it, it was Christmas Eve. Your excitement was hard to contain as Christmas Day grew closer and closer. 

You were practically jumping with excitement as Beth handed you a wrapped box while preparing for a movie night. “What’s this?” you gasped, eyes wide as you looked from her to Viv.

“It’s your Christmas Eve box!” Beth grinned, settling onto the couch beside you. “Go on, open it.”

Ripping through the wrapping paper with enthusiasm, you let out a squeal of delight. Inside, there were new pyjamas covered in little reindeer, a packet of hot chocolate mixed with marshmallows, a small stuffed penguin, and a tiny jar of glittery “reindeer food.”

“Look at this!” you exclaimed, pulling out the penguin and hugging it to your chest. “And what’s this?” you asked, shaking the jar of reindeer food.

“That’s for the reindeer!” Viv explained, “We sprinkle it outside so they know where to land.”

You gasped, “Can we do it now?”

“In a bit,” Beth said, smoothing down your hair. “First, let’s get you into your new pyjamas and make some hot chocolate.”

You dashed upstairs, Viv following close behind to help you change. It didn’t take long with you rushing her. Moments later, you returned, practically tripping over your own feet in your excitement.

“Look! I’m a reindeer now!” you declared, showing off the little antlers on the hood of your pyjamas.

“You’re adorable,” Beth said, grabbing her phone for a quick picture. “Alright, hot chocolate time.”

You ran into the kitchen with Beth and Viv following close behind, you made Beth grab a chair so you could help Viv and be a little chef. Once the hot chocolate was made and gone, you, Beth, Viv and Rich bundled up in coats and scarves to head outside. Viv held the jar of reindeer food while Beth held your hand and led you outside. Together, you sprinkled the sparkly mixture across the snowy lawn.

“Do you think they’ll like it?” you asked, looking up at Viv.

“They’ll love it,” Viv assured you, crouching down to help you spread the last handful. “This will guide them straight to the house.”

Back inside, you helped Beth set out cookies and a glass of milk for Santa, carefully placing a carrot next to the plate. “For the reindeer,” you explained seriously as if Beth didn’t already know.

Finally, it was bedtime. You climbed into your bed, clutching the penguin from your Christmas Eve box and Twix, your face lit with excitement. “Will Santa really come?” you asked as Viv tucked the blankets around you.

“Of course,” Viv said, sitting on the edge of your bed. “But only if you’re asleep.”

Beth sat on the other side, holding a storybook. “How about a Christmas story to help you settle?”

You nodded eagerly, and Beth began to read, her voice warm and animated. But every few sentences, you interrupted with a new question.

“How will Santa find me here?”

“Will the reindeer eat the carrot?”

“What if Myle and Rona scare him away?”

Viv stifled a laugh while Beth patiently answered each question. Finally, your eyelids began to droop, and your questions slowed. By the time Beth closed the book, you were snuggled deep into your blankets, the penguin and Twix tucked under your arm.

“Goodnight, Roo,” Beth whispered, kissing your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, mijn meisje,” Viv added, smoothing your hair.

As they slipped out of your room, they exchanged knowing smiles. “Think she’ll stay asleep?” Beth whispered.

“Not a chance,” Viv murmured, but her smile was fond.

Downstairs, they got to work. Presents were carefully arranged under the tree, with a few special ones labelled From Santa. Viv arranged them while Beth teased her for overthinking it. Stockings were filled with small treats, and a handwritten note from “Santa” was propped up against the mantel by Rich. 

When everything was ready, Beth stood by the tree, her expression softening. “She’s going to love it,” she said quietly.

“She will,” Viv agreed, slipping an arm around Beth’s waist. “Your mum would have loved this too.”

Beth nodded, blinking back tears. “It’s just hard, you know? First Christmas without her.”

Viv hugged her tightly. “She’d be proud of you, liefje. You’re giving Rory the kind of Christmas she’d have wanted.”

The house was still alive with the warmth of Christmas Eve as Rich emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray of snacks. “What are you two doing sneaking around the tree like that?” he teased, eyeing Beth and Viv as they fussed with the presents.

“Making Christmas perfect, Dad,” Beth replied, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Santa’s got high standards.”

“Does he now?” Rich chuckled, setting the tray on the coffee table. “Well, you two might want to wrap it up before our little elf sneaks back down here.”

“She would’ve loved Roo,” Beth said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Spoiled her rotten, probably.”

“Absolutely,” Rich agreed, pulling Beth into a one-armed hug. “She’d be so proud of you, love. You and Viv are doing a brilliant job.”

Beth leaned into him, her eyes glistening. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Alright,” Rich said, clapping his hands together to break the moment. “Enough of the soppy stuff. Who’s got room for mince pies?”

Viv raised an eyebrow. “You mean the ones Rory said were ‘yucky’?”

Rich laughed, shaking his head. “That kid. More for me then. But you better save her a slice of that chocolate log, or there’ll be trouble tomorrow.”

“She’s already trouble,” Beth muttered, but there was a fond smile on her face.

The three of them shared a quiet moment, the glow of the Christmas tree casting soft light over the room. Eventually, Rich yawned and stood, stretching. “Alright, I’ll leave Santa’s little helpers to finish up. Don’t stay up too late—you’ve got an early morning ahead of you.”

Beth stood, giving her dad a quick hug. “Night, Dad.”

“Night, love. Night, Viv.” Rich headed upstairs, leaving the two of them to admire their handiwork.

“You ready for bed?” Viv asked, slipping her hand into Beth’s.

Beth nodded, glancing at the tree one last time. “Yeah. Let’s make tomorrow perfect.”

Christmas morning began exactly as expected.

Your squeals echoed through the house as you sprinted into Beth and Viv’s room, jumping onto their bed with a burst of energy. “Wake up! Santa came! Mummy, Mamma, wake up!”

Beth groaned, pulling the blanket over her head. “Too early, Roo…”

Viv peeked out from under her pillow, laughing softly. “Santa doesn’t come this early in the morning.”

“Yes, he does! He’s already been, silly Mamma!” You insisted, bouncing on the bed. “I saw the presents!”

Beth reluctantly sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Alright, alright, we’re up. But you’ve got to cuddle first. Five more minutes, Roo.”

You huffed dramatically but crawled between them, your giggles making it impossible for Beth and Viv to keep up their sleepy charade.

Soon, you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. “Can we go now? Please, please, please?”

Beth laughed, pulling her out of bed. “Alright, let’s go see what Santa brought.”

The three of you padded downstairs, Myle bounding ahead, her tail wagging furiously with Rona’s.

When you saw the living room, you froze, your mouth dropping open. The room was transformed: stockings were full, presents were piled high, and the Barbie Dreamhouse you had asked for a few days short of Christmas sat assembled next to your new bike.

“Santa came!” You squealed, your voice full of awe.

Rich appeared in the doorway, coffee in hand, grinning at the sight of you. “Told you he wouldn’t forget you, Roo.”

You ran to him, “Grandad, look at my bike!”

Beth and Viv exchanged a smile, watching as you darted around the room, inspecting every detail.

The rest of the morning passed in a whirlwind of joy. You carefully unwrapped your gifts, squealing with delight at each one. Myle and Rona happily chewed their new toys, adding to the chaos. 

Your excitement grew as you unwrapped each present, you played with each one for a little bit before moving on to the next. 

Beth chuckled as you abandoned a new stuffed giraffe mid-squeeze to race over to the dollhouse. “Look, Mummy! It’s got an elevator! It goes up and down!” You moved the tiny dolls around with enthusiasm, your little hands barely big enough to hold them.

Viv crouched beside you, helping adjust one of the tiny chairs. “Wow, Santa really outdid himself, didn’t he?”

You nodded seriously before spotting another wrapped box with your name on it. “Oh! What’s that?” you exclaimed, dashing over to it and dropping the doll mid-play.

Rich laughed from his spot on the couch. “She’s like a whirlwind today.”

Beth settled next to him, “She’s always a whirlwind.”

The next gift revealed a bright blue set of walkie-talkies, and you gasped. “Mummy! Mamma! We can talk to each other!”

“Do they work through walls?” Beth teased, taking one.

“Let’s try!” you said, already running to the kitchen. “Can you hear me, Mummy?”

Beth pressed the button, her voice crackling through. “Loud and clear, Roo.”

Your giggle echoed back over the line before you darted back into the room, abandoning the walkie-talkie to tear into yet another gift. This one held a craft set, complete with glitter, stickers, and markers.

“Can we make something now?” you asked, eyes wide with excitement.

“Later, mijn meijse,” Viv said with a soft smile, gently redirecting you to another toy. “We’ve got plenty more to open first.”

And so the morning went—each new toy captivating you for just long enough before your attention was caught by another shiny bow or brightly coloured box. By the time all the presents were unwrapped, the living room looked like an explosion, wrapping paper and ribbons scattered everywhere.

The day passed quickly and before you knew it you were sitting at the table with Beth, Viv, Rich, Ben and his girlfriend Olivia having Christmas dinner. 

You sat at the table, legs swinging under your chair as you happily munched on a piece of turkey. The table was filled with food—roast potatoes, stuffing, Brussels sprouts (which you avoided like the plague), and gravy.

Beth leaned over, “Roo, is that all the potatoes you’re eating? I thought you said you were a potato monster.”

You giggled, pointing at the small pile on your plate. “I am a potato monster! Look, I ate three already!”

Ben chimed in, smirking. “Only three? A real potato monster eats at least ten!”

“Ten?!” Your eyes widened in mock horror. “That’s too many, Mummy!”

Beth grinned. “Maybe you’re just a potato trainee then. Not a full monster yet.”

You crossed your arms, trying to look serious, “I am a real monster!”

“But if you don’t finish them, Santa might take back the Barbie Dreamhouse,” Ben added. 

“Ben!” Olivia scolded, nudging him with her elbow.

You looked up, wide-eyed, clutching your fork. “He wouldn’t!”

Beth laughed so hard she nearly choked on her drink. “Roo, don’t listen to Uncle Ben. He’s just jealous Santa didn’t bring him a Dreamhouse.”

Ben raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop.”

The teasing subsided for a while as everyone enjoyed their meal. You leaned into Viv’s side, “Mamma, they’re silly.”

Viv kissed the top of your head. “They are, but they love you.”

As the evening wound down, you curled up on the sofa between Beth and Viv, clutching your new stuffed giraffe with Twix beside you. You fell asleep and cuddled up to Viv’s side after a long day of trying out all of your new toys. 

“I think she’s out,” Viv laughed, brushing a bit of your hair out of your face. “Shall we carry her up to bed?”

Beth nodded, standing up and carefully picking you up in her arms, cradling you close. “Let’s get her tucked in. It’s been a big day for our little munchkin.”

Viv followed, grabbing the stuffed giraffe and Twix that had slipped from your grip as you snoozed. The three of you made your way up the stairs, the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights still visible from the living room.

Once in your room at Rich’s, Beth gently laid you down in your bed, tucking the covers around you. Viv placed the giraffe beside you, its soft fur brushing your cheek with Twix. You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent, but quickly settled back into a peaceful slumber.

“Goodnight, Roo,” Beth whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

Viv smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Sweet dreams, mijn meisje.”

As they turned off the light and quietly closed the door, they exchanged a look—a mix of love and exhaustion. “She’ll be up at the crack of dawn again tomorrow,” Beth murmured with a laugh.

Viv chuckled, wrapping an arm around her. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[kotegiris]

[Card Story - Boschi] Way of Resistance

thanks to a friend of mine for sharing this card story with me!

Chapters 1 & 2

Chapter 1

※ Warning: This butler story contains spoilers for the event story “The Herald of Dawn”.

It is recommended to read up to chapter 9 of the event story before reading this.

For lords who are avoiding spoilers, please hit the button in the upper left corner to return.

………

At the request of the Grovaner family, we came to Slick.

The request was to find a man named Leo Force and dismantle the mafia.

A variety of circumstances led to us taking down a different mafia group… And now we are waiting for contact from Leo and his group.

But in the midst of that… Boschi and I were facing a crisis.

Mafia Men: Hehe, to think that we’d find you so soon.

Mafia Men: A new mafia group that crushed that large group… We have to strike before it’s too late, don’t we?

Mafia Men: That’s right. I’ll be taking the head of your boss right here and now.

Boschi stood protectively in front of me and confronted the men face-to-face.

Boschi: (Damn it… So they’re after Aruji-sama.)

Boschi: (I won’t lose even if I’m outnumbered, but…)

Boschi: (I don’t want to take any risks when it comes to Aruji-sama’s safety.)

Boschi: (I’ll have to watch their movements and be careful when attacking…)

Mafia Men: Hey now, don’t tell me… Are you getting scared?

Mafia Men: Then, don’t mind if we make the first move!

Boschi: Tch…!

Weapons in hand, the men sprung at Boschi.

Using his sword, Boschi knocked out countless of them.

Boschi: Come at me!

Thud

Mafia Men: Urgg…! This guy’s ridiculously strong…!

Mafia Men: Don’t let your guard down! We’ll beat him through numbers!

Boschi: (Tch… They’re weak, but there’s a lot of them…)

Boschi: (Since we’re fighting in an open space, it’s a big area I have to keep an eye on… One misstep will be dangerous…!)

Mafia Men: Bastard… Just drop dead!

Boschi: That’s my line!

Thud

Mafia Men: Ugaah…!

Boschi: (Damn it, they just keep on coming like cockroaches… How many of them are there…!?)

While being protected and hiding behind Boschi’s back… Someone suddenly pulled my arm.

> Wha…?

Mafia Men: Hahaha! Your boss’s head is mine!

Boschi: …!? Aruji-sama!!

In the next moment, the man that pulled my arm… Was struck in the wrist with a scabbard by Boschi.

Then, just as the man released my arm… Boschi kicked the man, and his body hit the ground.

Boschi: Hah… hah…

Boschi: Looks like he was the last of them…

Boschi: My bad… I wasn’t paying attention.

> Boschi, are you okay?

Boschi: Huh? That’s my line.

Boschi: Are you okay, Boss? Did he leave any marks where he grabbed you?

> I’m alright.

Boschi: Good… But it must have been scary, right?

Boschi: Let’s head back for the day. They’re knocked out, but who knows when they’ll wake up.

> G-Got it.

And so we safely got through the crisis and returned to the hotel.

【Slick - Hotel】

Afterwards we arrived at the hotel with no issues.

But rather than looking relieved… Boschi had a slightly serious expression.

Boschi: ……

> Boschi, what’s wrong?

Boschi: Oh… I was just thinking about the attack from earlier.

Boschi: I turned my attention away from you even if it was just for a moment… I’m reflecting on that.

> But you still protected me.

Boschi: …Yeah.

Boschi: But… It doesn’t change the fact that your arm was grabbed.

Boschi: I’m thinking about how careless I was.

Boschi: The fact that something like that happened today… Maybe it’s time to take a different approach.

Boschi: Fighting isn’t the only thing I can do to protect you.

Boschi: For your sake… I’ll do everything I can…

Boschi mumbled as if he was speaking to himself.

Boschi: Anyways… Today must have been rough for you, Aruji-sama.

Boschi: I’ll take you to your room, so get some rest.

Boschi: I’ll let the other butlers know about today's attack.

> Okay.

【Hotel - Bedroom】

-That night-

Knock, knock…

Boschi: Aruji-sama. Can I come in?

> Come in. > It’s open.

Opens

Boschi: Evening, Aruji-sama.

Boschi: It’s been a few hours since the attack earlier today, but… How’s your arm?

> It’s alright.

Boschi: I see… I’m glad.

Boschi: But just to be on the safe side, could you show it to me?

> Yeah.

I rolled up my sleeve and showed it to him.

There weren’t really any marks from where the man grabbed me.

Boschi: …At least it doesn’t seem injured. For now, I can relax.

Boschi: If he left marks on your arm… I’d probably get revenge on them.

> D-Don’t do that.

Boschi: Yeah, I know. I wouldn’t go out of my way to make contact with the guys who attacked us.

While saying that, Boschi rolled my sleeve back down… And gently massaged my arm over the fabric of my sleeve.

Then… He casted his eyes slightly downwards and mumbled something as if he made up his mind.

Boschi: I want to say that there’s no need for you to have a weapon, but…

Boschi: This too… Is to protect the kind you.

> Huh?

Boschi gently put my arm down and… Taking something out from his breast pocket, he set it on the table.

It had a dull shine to it, but it was unmistakably a knife.

Boschi: Aruji-sama, you might still be feeling shaken from the attack earlier, but…

Boschi: I’m gonna teach you some self-defense now.

Boschi: I’ll do anything to keep you safe.

Boschi: …That’s what I’ve decided.

Boschi’s eyes were sharp as he said this to me.

On the desk, the sharp knife’s blade glinted.

Chapter 2

The knife on the table dully glinted.

Boschi said he’d teach me self-defense.

I wondered if he planned on having me attack our enemies with a blade.

As I nervously stared at the knife… With a serious expression, Boschi opened his mouth.

Boschi: …Don’t worry, it’s not a real knife.

Boschi: Of course, maybe in the future… I’ll have you carry around a real knife.

I made no moves to pick up the knife, but Boschi continued speaking.

Boschi: …The other butlers might never tell you something like this, but… I’m not like them.

Boschi: I… I want you to have the strength to protect yourself.

Boschi: Of course, like we’ve always done… We’ll keep protecting you even at the cost of our lives.

Boschi: But just in case… There’s no harm in you learning how to fight.

Boschi: Being on the offense isn’t the best way to defend yourself, but… Maybe one day it’ll help save you.

Boschi: That’s why I prepared this fake knife.

Boschi: Teaching you how to use a knife… This is all to protect you.

> Boschi…

I knew that Boschi was being serious, but… I still couldn’t bring myself to reach for the knife.

I’m sure he intended on teaching me hands on how to use a blade.

If he teaches me how… Maybe the day when I’ll hurt someone will eventually come…

That frightened me.

Boschi: …… I know you're hesitant.

Boschi: But let me say this.

Boschi: Learning how to use a blade… Is also a way of protecting all the butlers.

> Protecting everyone…?

Boschi: Yeah.

Boschi: If we were being attacked by enemies…

Boschi: The butlers would definitely focus on you.

Boschi: Which means that… Our attention is turned away from the enemy in front of us.

Boschi: The chances of them taking advantage of that split second isn’t zero.

Boschi: Even if there’s only a one in a million chance of us losing to a human… I can’t say that it’ll never happen.

Boschi: So if you learn how to fight… You could end up saving our lives one day.

> Saving everyone…

I looked at the knife lying on the table once more.

The dull glint still scared me a little, but… If I picked it up, could I protect the butlers?

While I cautiously stared at the knife, Boschi quietly called out to me.

Boschi: Aruji-sama, I hope you’re not misunderstanding, but…

Boschi: When I said, “You could end up saving our lives”... I wasn’t trying to scare you into taking the knife.

Boschi: By taking the knife, you can protect us. I just wanted to give you that option.

Boschi: But if… If you’re really scared of taking it, it’s okay to say no.

Boschi: If it becomes a burden to you, then… It’s better not to take it.

Boschi: You’re gentle, so teaching you how to use a weapon is… Even I know that’s asking for a lot.

Boschi: If it becomes a burden, then… I’ll find a different way that suits you more.

To the me who was hesitating to take the knife, he gave me a way to back out.

It was unmistakably because of his kind consideration for me.

For the kind him and the other butlers… I want to protect them.

With those thoughts, I picked up the knife.

> Teach me how to use it, Boschi

Boschi: Aruji-sama… Are you really okay with this?

> Everyone’s important to me. I want to protect everyone.

Boschi: I see… Thanks for being brave.

Boschi: I’m guessing your motivation comes from… This being a way to protect us, huh?

Boschi: You really do care about us.

> Of course I do.

Boschi: Ha, that was a quick response.

You seem eager enough.

Boschi: Then, Aruji-sama… Let’s start your self-defense training.

Boschi: Today I’ll teach you the important basics. Make sure your head and body remember them.

> G-Got it!

And so, my self-defense training by Boschi began.

-A little later-

After that, Boschi earnestly taught me.

Boschi: So… That’s what you should do if your wrist is grabbed.

Boschi: Alright, Aruji-sama… Let’s try practicing now.

> Yeah!

Boschi quickly grabbed my hand, and I shook him off with minimal effort.

Thanks to him being a good teacher… I became able to do it reflexively.

> How’s that?

Boschi: You’re doing well. You’ve been able to do everything I’ve said.

Boschi: Next… Let’s try putting it to practical use.

> Practical use?

Boschi: Yeah. I’m gonna teach you a judo technique for restraining someone.

Boschi: It’s a bit difficult, but… If you do it right, it’ll stop your opponent from moving.

Boschi: First, I’ll show you how effective it is… I’ll do it on you.

Boschi: And using the knife you have… Try your best to break free.

Boschi: By doing this, you’ll also learn how your opponent will react to this technique.

> I’ll do my best.

Boschi: Nice response. Alright, let’s get started.

Boschi: Hold their left arm like this and tighten your hold…

Boschi: …Here!

The moment he said that… My body was completely stopped by Boschi.

I immediately tried to shake him off… But I was no match for his strength.

Realizing that I couldn’t do anything… He finally released his hold.

> (I-It’s finally over…)

But then… Before I knew it, I was lying on my back.

> Huh…?

I could see the ceiling behind Boschi… Who was hovering over me.

I finally realized that… He had pushed me onto the bed.

Boschi: Geez… You were distracted, Aruji-sama.

Boschi: If you don’t pay attention, you’ll be cornered like this.

> U-Uhm…

While still pinning me down, his sharp eyes looked at me.

Boschi: So, what will you do now? Do your best to resist.

Although I was overwhelmed by this situation… I managed to pull my knife out from my breast pocket.

But I was hesitant to point the blade at him and couldn’t move fast enough.

I only hesitated for a moment, but Boschi didn’t miss it. He snatched my knife away and threw it on the floor.

> Ah…

Boschi: Now even your weapon is useless, but… You won’t just give up like this, will you?

Boschi: Come on… Let me see you struggle ‘til the end.

Saying this, he tightened his hold on me.

I knew that everything, his actions and words, was all for the sake of protecting me, but…

Being conscious of how we were closer than usual filled me with a different kind of nervousness.

> (H-He’s so close…!?)

Boschi: ……!

He must have noticed that I was acting strange…

He helped me sit up on the bed.

My face was still red, and I said nothing. Boschi stared at me with an apologetic look.

Boschi: …My bad, Aruji-sama.

Boschi: Even if it was training to protect you… I was too aggressive.

Boschi: And more importantly… I scared you.

Boschi: …I’m sorry.

> Boschi…

He looked somewhat frustrated apologizing to me.

Could it be that… He was angry with himself for scaring me?

When he was pinning me down… I felt shy, but not scared.

Boschi’s actions and words… I knew that he was doing it all to protect me.

I wanted to tell him that. I softly called out to him.

> I wasn’t scared.

Boschi: Aruji-sama…?

I wanted to tell him everything that I was feeling.

That I wasn’t scared, just shy…

I needed to muster the courage to say it out loud, but… No matter what, I wanted to tell him since he’s always so earnest when it comes to me.

> I wasn’t scared.

Boschi: Aruji-sama…

> And…

I didn’t want to point a knife at him… Even if I knew it was a fake one.

I didn’t want to direct a weapon at someone dear to me… When I told him this, his eyes became wide as if he was surprised.

Then… He gently smiled while gazing at me.

Boschi: Phew… So that’s what you were thinking.

> I’m not lying.

Boschi: Yeah, I know.

Boschi: I also know how much you care for me…

Boschi: …Thank you, Aruji-sama.

While saying that, Boschi began to gently stroke my head.

> B-Boschi…?

Seeing me confused… Boschi happily smiled as if to clear up the serious atmosphere.

Boschi: What is it, Aruji-sama? You can resist if you don’t like it, you know?

Boschi: I just taught you a technique to do so after all.

Boschi’s smile as he said this was mischievous, but… His hands felt gentle.

It was a bit embarrassing letting him stroke my head, but it felt very nice… I didn’t want to shake off his hand.

END

[halforresterluvsford]

Saw this anon post on @kyber-shack and I had to. This started out funny but it got serious…sorry if Stan sounds too sappy here.

Enjoy! :)

-

“Stanley, have you seen my-“ Stanford Pines stops cold, barging into his and his brother’s shared room, the search for his journal forgotten.

“Stanley, No! Stop what you’re doing right this instance!” Ford yelled as he stared at the scene before him. Stanley couldn’t be so foolish as to try to use that, could he!?

“Relax, Stanford, it’s fine.” Stan waves him off, continuing to lube up small glass Christmas tree decoration.

Truly. His brother truly is that ridiculous. Stanford feels a crazed laugh bubble up his throat before he stamps it down, his right eye twitching instead. He really doesn’t want to have to take his brother to the emergency room and explain why there’s a Christmas tree up his ass.

Moses save him.

“It’s not “fine”, Stanley!” Ford does his finger quotes as offensively as possible, “It’s made of glass! It could break while inside of you! Internal bleeding is a very serious matter!” His brother is trying to kill himself, that’s the only explanation.

“It’s thick glass.” Stan had the nerve to shrug at Stanford, who’s an inch away from throttling him.

“There’s no flared base! It could get lost and travel up your colon! Think, Stanley, please. I’m begging you.” He’s so close to actually getting on his knees to plead for his brother’s sanity.

“I’ll just keep a tight grip on it, then.” That does.

Ford tackles Stan, knocking the stupid decoration out of his hand and pinning them next to his face. He scowls, leaning in close to his twin’s face before whispering in his ear, “If you wanted to be stuffed so badly, all you had to do was ask, my dear.” He purrs before he trails kisses down Stan’s face, beginning to pepper his neck with them when Stan responds.

“I tried, ya’ knucklehead, but you were too busy in your lab. I had to do something to get your attention, so I nabbed your journal to get you up here so I could rile you up enough to fuck me. Heh,” Stan roughly laughs, throwing his head back and cocking a smirk at Ford’s bewildered face above him, “sure worked, huh? Lil’ IQ is more than willing and able.” This line, he nods down to Ford’s crotch where a prominent bulge was forming.

What.

The. Fuck.

He’s going to kill Stanley. Well, no, he’s going to fuck him, but the sentiment is all the same. He’s the Knucklehead, making him think he was stupid enough-insane enough to risk potential life threatening injury just to-

Without saying a single word, Ford flips Stanley over, hitching his thighs open so he can get a good look at his hole. Slick and red, meaning his brother fingered himself open in preparation. Good, that means Ford doesn’t have to be nice and gentle. He whips his belt out of their loops, breathing out harshly as the stray end whipping across Stan’s ass brings a whimper out of him, and unzipping his pants before bringing his cock out through the slit in his boxers. His brother doesn’t deserve to feel any of Ford’s skin, not with how pissed off he is. He grabs himself and lines up with Stan’s ass, pushing in gently enough at first to not seriously hurt his brother but thrusting in harshly as soon as his tip slips in. He starts a punishing pace, wrapping his arms around Stan and leaning down to bury his face in his neck.

“St-Stanford! Oh fuck, a-are you-ah! There!” Of course Ford knows it’s there, he’s fucked Stanley often enough to have his entire body mapped, inside and out, in his mind. He could find his prostate in his sleep. “Ngh-talk to-to me here, please. F-ford, I don’t like it when-fuck fuck fuck-you don’t talk.”

He probably should, shouldn’t he? That’s something he and Stanley talked about when they first got together. Stan can’t stand silence during sex, even if it’s angry sex, to him nasty words are better than angered and stifling silence.

“I was worried,” his voice is rough when he speaks moment later, his thrusts slowing down enough so that he can find better purchase on his knees, lifting Stan’s body enough so that he can reach under him and fist his red and weeping cock, “I thought you were really-really willing to hurt yourself. That,” Ford swallows in an attempt to wet his dry throat, “that you didn’t want me, that a stupid piece of over priced trash was better than me.” And there was the crux of the matter. Ford was stupidly jealous. He had a dislike for sex toys when they were together, and hated any one that might actually penetrate his brother, thinking that if Stanley couldn’t be satisfied with him, he might leave him. Ford doesn’t have much experience, only ever having been with two other people physically before Stanley. He hates to admit it, but he’s insecure.

“Hey,” Ford’s broken out of his thoughts by Stan’s hand pulling his head down to his, his eyes looking back at him. “You know you’re the only one I want. Stanford, I’ve never bottom before you, you know?” Stanford did not know, “I never felt safe or, you know, loved by anyone but you. Definitely never any other men. Ugh, they were creeps out there.” Ford’s mind has stalled. He was Stanley’s first? Well, not first, obviously. But, the first one to have him like this? His thrusting, which had stopped, ramped up again, his hand on Stanley’s cock moving in tempo with his. He buries his head in his brother’s neck again, playing wet and sloppy kisses there, whispering quiet “love you’s” between each one. He aims for Stanley’s prostate for each thrust, earning strangled moans and gasps, the most delightful sounds Ford’s ever heard.

“Stanford-Sixer. Please, oh please faster-I need-! Oh, shit I love you too, Ford. Never let anyone else have me like you do, only you can-huh-fuck me like this, right?” Fuck does Stanley know what he’s doing. He speeds up on command, going from kissing Stanley’s neck to biting it, intent on leaving lasting bruises, marks to remind both of them just who gets to have him like this.

Only Ford does.

“Mine. Hah-you’re mine, Lee. No one else can have you, mmmhph. Mine. Mine. Mine…” Stanford felt feral, “mine” being the only word he can say at that moment. That word and the wet plap plap plap ringing out between Stanley’s pleasured grunts and moans making a cacophony of noise-distantly, he’s grateful they were the only ones home at the time-music to the twins’ ears. Stanford can feel himself get closer, his balls tightening as Stanley squeezes around him so sinfully, so delightful. He tightens his fist on his twin’s cock, adding a twist when his hand makes it’s way to the head, Stan’s ass squeezing him tighter at the motion.

“Please, Stanford, cum in me.” Stanley moans so prettily in ears. And like always, he’s incapable of doing anything but what his brother wishes. His hips twitch, thrusting harshly a half dozen more times before he snaps them up, holding himself still close to his brother while he finishes inside-hand still fisting the other’s cock.

“Stanley.” Came Ford’s strangled grunt as he works his tight fist over his brother’s throbbing cock, squeezing the head and thumbing his slit. He feels more than he hears Stanley sob as he cums, strings of ejaculate coating Ford’s hand, the floor, and Stanley’s stomach. They collapse on the ground, both breathless and both with slightly aching backs. Stan turns over to be face to face with Ford. He brings his hands up and cups his twin’s face, fingers tracing over his nose and brows as Ford kisses his palms, both basking in the moment.

“Way better than a damn glass Christmas tree, Sixer, stupid thing can’t even compare.” Stan smiles, rubbing their noses together

Stanford just breaks out in loud laughter, wrapping his arms tightly around Stanley.

—Alternative Ending—

“Welcome to Gravity Falls Emergency Room. Does your injury or illness pertain to fire, molasses, Christmas lights, or snow coated bricks?” The cheery nurse asks to two grumpy men in front of her.

“No. Need something removed.” The words were short and curt coning from Stan.

“Alrighty! What’s the object and where does it need to be removed from?” She remains her cheerful disposition.

“Glass tree. From me.” Oh, another one.

“Ah, I’ll get Margo then, she’s the specialist for that ‘round here.” She gives a sympathetic tut. Stan’s face burns red from embarrassment. Ford’s from holding back his laughter.

[wintfleur]

I'VE GOT LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM

⊹ I need no overcoat, I’m burning with love ⊹

🧦 ━━━ 𝒾ris 𝒶uclair doesn't need to worry about the cold when she has her boyfriend 𝓁uke 𝒽ughes to warm her up

iris_auclair added to their story !

🎵: let it snow! let it snow! let it snow! - frank sinatra

[caption: spot the difference!! @/lhughes_06]

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jackhughes replied to your story ‘oh well look at this cutie’

iris_auclair the actual cutest :[

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markestapa replied to your story ‘bro looks like he’s walked straight out of American eagle😭’

iris_auclair stoppp 😭 (he did)

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_quinnhughes replied to your story ‘lukeyyy boy’

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hugoAuclair replied to your story ‘he looks so stiff, leave the poor boy alone!!’

iris_auclair MY BOYFRIEND ISN’T STIFF…. JUST SHY 😭

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lhughes_06 replied to your story ‘baby I look ridiculous ☹️’

iris_auclair RIDICULOUSLY CUTE ☺️☝️

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📍New Jersey

liked by nicohischier, g.brindley4, _slafkovsky_ and more

🏷️ lhughes_06

🎵: I’ve got my love to keep me warm - Ingrid michaelson

iris_auclair always the warmest with him 🤍

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mackie.samo lukey model era? 😏

iris_auclair my eyes are blessed fr 😻

curtislazar95 he looks so awkward 🤣

iris_auclair he looks perfect wdym 😗

lhughes_06 yeah, I’m perfect Curtis 🙂‍↕️

edwards.73 what a man 😍

iris_auclair my man 😻

_quinnhughes look at the smile

iris_auclair he’s so handsome 🥹

luca.fantilli i wish he could keep me warm

dylanduke25 remember when he used to 😢

markestapa ….now all he cares about is iris 😣

rutgermcgroarty Luke leave Iris for them and then Iris will be with me 🙏

lhughes_06 rut has gone full on delusional because wtf?

hugoAuclair did he body slam you into the snow

lhughes_06 no??

hugoAuclair boring

iris_auclair 🧍🏻‍♀️

louispartridge iris skating? I never thought I’d see the day 😹

iris_auclair I’ll have you know, I’ve gotten very good at it!

blanca.soler the nails oml

blanca.soler you are so 😻

lhughes_06 pls stop flirting with my gf she will leave me for you

iris_auclair LUKE 😭

jackhughes why are you guys the cutest, it’s making me upset

iris_auclair I don’t even know what to say to that

lhughes_06 don’t say anything just stare and judge

username I NEED HIM 😩

username you look so pretty Iris 😇

iris_auclair awe tysm, you look absolutely stunning in your latest post!

username aww you guys cut your own Christmas tree!

iris_auclair it’s a family tradition of mine, we actually went to this family run business who donates trees ☺️

lhughes_06 I had the greatest time baby

lhughes_06 can’t wait for next year 🤍

iris_auclair and for the many more after that, mon amour 🤍

iris_auclair just posted !

📍New Jersey

liked by jacob_truscott20, _willsmith2, adamfantilli and more

🏷️ lhughes_06

🎵 rockin’ around the Christmas tree - Brenda Lee

iris_auclair happy christmas from, me, lukey n moose 🎄

view all comments

elblue6 my cuties ❤️

lhughes_06 we love you mom ❤️

markestapa merry chronicles 🎄

iris_auclair mark?? 😭

markestapa autocorrect 😕

OfficialGabrielleAuclair Happy Christmas my darlings 🤍

iris_auclair je t'aime maman 🤍

nicohischier Merry Christmas!!

iris_auclair merry christmas nico!

trevorzegras merry christmas lovebirds 🙂‍↕️

edwards.73 I need those cookies.

iris_auclair luke ate them all…sorry 🙏

jackhughes seems like fun….too bad I wasn’t there 😒

lhughes_06 best christmas ever actually 👍🏻

jackhughes 😐

jackhughes merry christmas Iris and ONLY Iris ❤️

iris_auclair merry christmas jack!! ❤️

Arthurauclair merry christmas brat ❤️

iris_auclair merry christmas art 🙄🫶🏻

lilychee merry christmas pretty girl

iris_auclair merry christmas lils 🫶🏻

OpalBraun I wish you two the best christmas sweetheart

iris_auclair we love you aunty opal 🤍

njdevils a snoopy christmas 🤍

_quinnhughes merry christmas guys! missed you this year ❤️

iris_auclair merry christmas quinny, we missed you too 🥹

louishofmann happy christmas rissy ❤️

iris_auclair happy christmas, miss you! ❤️

hugoAuclair happy xmas ellie 🎁

iris_auclair happy christmas hugo 🤍

ethan_yoon luke wasn’t under my tree tf 😒

iris_auclair yeah cause he was under me ☝️

ethan_yoon you mean under your tree?

iris_auclair I know what I said 😚

lhughes_06 😺

username the snoopy ornament, I need it 🥹

iris_auclair my aunt made it for us!

username they spent christmas alone together 🥹

username LUKE LOOKS SO CUTE IN THAT PIC OMG

iris_auclair doesn’t he, I just wanna squeeze him :[

lhughes_06 your so fucking pretty damn

lhughes_06 I’ve been staring at that picture of you for like at least 20 minutes

lhughes_06 why is this video 10 hours long

lhughes_06 I’m gonna miss you when I scroll

iris_auclair mon amour get off tiktok and come cuddle me and moose ☺️

𝓻oro’s note. OH MY BABIES ☹️ here is technically your first look at iris and luke!! they are so cute i love them so much, i already have a fic out for them, well it’s a reader insert but it’s them! i really hope you guys enjoy this . . . I hope to get there AU out soon 🤍 I was going to post this tomorrow but I rushed to get it finished because of Luke’s goal tonight ☺️

please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist >.<

𝓬heck it, 𝔀ishlist! m.list au m.list (coming soon) main m.list

˖ ་ taglist : @lesrflms @winterbarnesblog @toasttt11 @cixrosie @iceflwers @bunbunbl0gs

©️WINTFLEUR ; you can't copy, translate, reproduce, repost my fic, use my plot or layout.

[jessicaloons]

INVISIBLE STRING: FROM THE VAULT

Part 3: A Christmassy story…

Masterlist

Merry Christmas everyone 🎄🎅🏻♥️

Better late than never! As it is during Christmas, it all gets a little hectic and what I wanted to post last night had to be postponed to today… it’s a little something I started to write a year ago, at Christmas, while watching one of my all time favourite Christmas movies.

And now no more talking, here it is…

Christmas 2027:

"Radiation?" Joris cocked an eyebrow.

"Radiation." I shrugged my shoulders and he chuckled "Don’t ask. It’s- it’s her newest ick…"

"You’re surrounded by radiation the entire day with having your phone with you? So where’s the difference at ni-…"

"That’s exactly the point. Your body is exposed to radiation all day long, so at night, when it resets, there shouldn’t be any radiation!" Lizzie’s voice rang out behind us, making Joris flinch "I’ve read it in various magazines! So it can’t be that wrong!"

I had to chuckle, looking at Joris’ petrified face when Lizzie glared at me, although I could see her eyes getting watery.

"It’s not funny!" her voice strained.

"It’s not, cara mia. You’re right. I’m sorry." I replied.

"I’m not crazy…" she sniffled a little and I felt bad.

"No, you’re not! I know that, okay?" I said immediately and got up from my seat, cupping her cheek and gently stroked the side of her bump "You’re doing everything to protect our babies… so whatever you think is best we’ll do! You’re an amazing mum, okay?"

She only nodded slightly and turned away, her shoulders slumped.

"I lay down for a bit…" she whispered and waddled off, taking a short look into Emmie’s room, before she continued to our bedroom.

"I swear I didn’t want to upset her!" Joris looked at me with big eyes and I sighed, sitting back down.

"Believe me, same. The last 2 or 3 days it’s been tough, she’s more emotional than usually…" I rubbed my temples, leaning back "One moment she’s happy and bubbly, the next moment she cries about how there’s only one apple left and that it might feel alone… and then she’s mad at herself for crying about such ridiculous things which makes her cry even more because she thinks I’m annoyed of her being an emotional mess… which is not true at all. I love it. I swear."

"You’re probably the only guy on earth who loves his pregnant wife’s mood swings." Joris laughed.

"It’s cute… when she’s this bubbly Lizzie, who turns over a jar she can’t open first super frustrated and then grumpy like never seen before and curses it like there’s no tomorrow, just to be sad the next moment that whatever’s in the jar is lost forever…"

"And then you chime in and save the day…" he wiggled with his eyebrows and I held up my hands.

"You know, not all heroes wear capes… but they still get a proper thank you… if you know what I mean…"

"Yeah. No. Gross…"

Right when I wanted to reply I heard the soft steps of Emmie and Arlo approaching and when I turned a little I saw them both walk around the corner.

"Dada? Mummy look sad?" her sweet little voice sounded truly concerned and I opened my arms, hoisting her up into my lap "Why mummy sad?"

"She’s not sad, Emmie. Just a little emotional."

"Emonal?" she repeated and I smiled.

"Emotional…" I said slowly, while she quietly said the word again "That’s when you feel all sorts of emotions… that’s feelings. Sad, happy, tired, funny, moody… and you just don’t know what’s the real feeling. So you get a little overwhelmed with emotions… it’s nothing bad. It happens. Especially when someone carries a baby, or like mummy two, in their belly…"

"Mummy feel for baby one and baby two?" Emmies eyes widened and I had to chuckle.

"Yes, my little princess, that’s exactly what mummy’s feeling. Her feelings and baby one and twos feelings."

"Lot of feelings!"

"Oh yes! A lot of feelings!" I nodded and she sighed, cuddling into my chest "You know what? Why don’t you help me and Joris make some hot chocolate for mummy?"

Emmie’s eyes lit up and she jumped off my lap, already pulling me up on my feet before she grabbed onto Joris hand, doing the same.

"Comes on, Jojo! Hot chotlat for mummy!" she chirped and pulled him with her.

"I’m coming, Emmie-bug." he laughed and picked her up, following me into the kitchen, where he sat her down on the kitchen island.

"Emmie hot chotlat, too!" she looked first at me and then at Joris with her big puppy eyes and I could melt away on the spot.

"Let’s make hot chocolate for us all, okay? And then we can watch a movie before bedtime, how does that sound?"

"No bedtime."

"Emmie, we have to get up early tomorrow! We’re leaving for Christmas!" I reminded her but she shook her head.

"No bedtime." she repeated, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"No bedtime means no Christmas, and no Christmas means no pops and grams, no granny, no Liam or Elijah… no Arthi!"

"No Arthi?" Emmie whispered and I nodded.

"Also no presents…"

"Emmie like bedtime."

"Yeah?" I asked and she nodded.

"Bedtime comfy. Jojo read story?" she turned and looked at him "Pwease?"

"Of course, Emmie-bug. Every story you want!" he cooed at her and she clapped happily.

"Now chotlat for mummy!"

"Now chocolate for mummy."

"Charles?" Lizzie whispered and I turned a little, trying to make her out in the dark "I’m sorry…"

"What do you mean?" I asked, voice still hoarse from sleeping. I looked around, my eyes trying to adjust to the darkness and saw her perched against the headboard.

"For being over emotional… and unreasonable…" she said and I sat up to switch on the lamp on the night stand.

"Hey, you’re not over emotional or unreasonable!" I replied, rubbing my eyes, facing her.

"I am. The other day I cried because of a pair of socks I had to throw away since one of them had holes…"

"It was a nice pair of socks!"

"Charles…" Lizzie chuckled and I grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles "I’m serious! I feel like I’m way worse than when I was pregnant with Emmie!"

"Yeah of course! You’re carrying twins, cara mia! Double the trouble!"

"Is that why I could eat all the damn time? I’m always hungry…" she sighed and I laughed, looking at her pouting.

"And what does my pretty girl want right now?"

"Now? Oh… umm… I’m not hungry…" she looked away and I gently grabbed her chin, turning her head.

"Lizzie… I know you… it’s 1 am that’s your time… so, what can I get for you?" I stifled a yawn.

"I’m fine… you’re tired and we’ll be picked up early…" she mumbled but I shook my head.

"Pretty girl…" I scooted closer, cupping her cheek "What do you want? Fruits? Something salty? Ice cream? A burger?"

"Some sour gums and-… it’s weird, because usually I don’t like them… salt and vinegar crisps? Do we have that?"

"On it…" I pecked her lips and shuffled out of the bed, stretching as soon as I stood up "Anything else?"

"Umm… one of these strawberry lemonades maybe?"

"Anything my pretty girl wants." I said, grabbing my sweatpants that got stuck somehow and I pulled harder almost tripping over when I finally freed it.

"Are you okay?" Lizzie looked at me and I nodded.

"It got stuck somehow… I don’t know… get comfy I’ll be right back." I slipped on my pants and left our bedroom, down the hall to the kitchen I stopped at Emmie’s bedroom and took a look inside.

Our little girl tucked in under her blankets, Arlo guarding her, sleeping right in front of her bed. He must’ve felt my presence, lifting his head looking at me. He got up, yawned and then trotted over, tilting his head.

"All good, Arlo. Just me." I whispered, kneeling down "Go watch our little princess." I stroked his fluffy fur, scratched his ears before he stretched “Ohhh big stretch! Good boy." I scratched his ears and got up "Go back to sleep…" he turned around and walked away, plopping down back at his old spot.

I rummaged through the pantry, grabbing everything Lizzie graved and trotted back to our bedroom, where a big smile spread over her face as soon as she saw me walk in.

"I can already taste the lemonade…" she made grabby hands and I laughed, handing her the can of lemonade and the crisps and sour gums.

I climbed in bed next to her, lying down and watching how she happily scrunched up her nose as soon as she ate the first sour gum, closing her eyes savouring the taste.

"Remind me to pack strawberry lemonade, salt and vinegar crisps and sour patch kids…" I yawned.

"I’m so excited for Christmas, our last without the twins… next year we’re already a family of 6…" Lizzie whispered and I cocked an eyebrow.

"6?"

"6…"

"Of course… Arlo…"

"I told you he’s our first born." Lizzie’s happy giggling made me smile and I nodded.

"You’re right. He is. And he’s an amazing big brother, guarding his little sister."

"He’s a good boy." she happily munched and I smiled, yawning again "You can sleep… you don’t have to stay awake with me…"

"Yeah?" I mumbled, fighting to keep my eyes open.

"Yeah…" Lizzie replied and leaned down, kissing my cheek "Thank you…"

"You need anything else?" I asked but she shook her head.

"No. We’re all good now. Sleep, pretty boy."

I didn’t know if I replied or not, I fell asleep almost immediately.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

An annoying ringing inside my head. But was it inside my head? I groaned and turned around, Lizzie next to me fast asleep, the ringing that definitely wasn’t just inside my head didn’t seem to bother her.

"Dada… make it stop…" Emmie rubbed her eyes, stumbling to our bed, her hair her a hot mess "Head owie!"

"I know…" I picked her up and sat her next to Lizzie "I’ll go…" I kissed her cheek and scrambled out of bed, looking for the source of the horrific sound. The door bell. And the landline phone. Both ringing at the same time. Just like my phone "What the hell?" I grabbed my phone and picked up "Hello?"

"Ah, Mr. Leclerc! Finally! I wanted to come up myself and look if everything is alright!" Matthieu, our concierge, said and the landline phone and door bell stopped ringing.

"Of course, everything’s alright? Why wouldn’t it be?" I was confused, looking around.

"There are two cars here to pick you up. They’ve been waiting for a while now and we tried to call you then-…"

"What?! But the cars should be here at 8?" I replied.

"Mr. Leclerc, it’s 8:30 am…"

"WHAT? What? How? I- what?" I checked the time at my phone and cursed "Oh shit… umm tell the drivers we’ll need a moment…"

"Can I send them up to get your bags?" Matthieu asked and I nodded.

"Yes. Everything is packed. All the bags are at the elevator…" I hastily walked back into our bedroom, pushing the buttons to open up the blinds.

"Alright. I’ll tell them." he hung up and I gently shook Lizzie.

"Cara mia? Wake up please… we need to get ready…"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, blinking a few times.

"The cars are already here… we need to get ready." I said again and her eyes shot open.

"What? But you set your alarm? What?" she scrambled up looking at Emmie next to her "Did we oversleep?"

"I don’t know. I didn’t hear the alarm. But that doesn’t matter. We need to get ready. Now. Come on." I pulled her gently off the bed and she sighed "I take care of Emmie, okay?"

"Hmm…" Lizzie mumbled and waddled away to the bathroom, yawning "Did you not set the alarm?"

"I did. I don’t know what happened…" I mumbled and picked up Emmie "Come on girlie, let’s get ready."

"Ready for Crimas!" she clapped her hands and I chuckled.

"Christmas. And no. Not quite yet. We have to get there first."

"To Christ-as?" she tried again.

"Almost, Christmas, with an 'm'… Christ- mas."

"Christ-mas." she repeated and I smiled.

"You got it right, Emmie! Good girl!" I sat her down on her bed and grabbed the clothes Lizzie had put out already "Now let’s get dressed and then we’ll have a little snack in the car, how does that sound?"

"Car?" she tilted her head, scrunching her nose.

"Yeah, we have to drive to the airport. And then we get into the jet to fly to Switzerland. To this big chalet in the mountains where all our family is waiting! To celebrate-…"

"Christmas!" she clapped excitedly and I nodded.

"Exactly! But we’re a little late. So we need to hurry up a little!"

"Houwy up! Houwy up!"

"That we have to! So let’s have a look. You look adorable, now we just need to take care of your hair and-…" I began when I saw Lizzie waddling towards the kitchen, still in her pyjamas "Alright… wait a minute…" I sat her down "You pack your sleep plushies into your backpack and play a little with Arlo, okay? I’ll be right back and make your hair." Emmie nodded and I followed Lizzie into the kitchen, finding her rummaging through the fridge "Lizzie?"

"Why is there no food?" she sniffled, turning around "I’m hungry. But there is nothing to eat. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Cara mia, we have breakfast in the jet, okay? It’s all prepared-…"

"But I’m hungry now!" she was grumpy "The babies and I are hungry now!"

"I understand, but we have nothing here, because we’re leaving now… we can stop at a bakery on the way?" I tried it again and she sighed.

"Okay… I go and take a shower…" she walked past me and I followed her.

"Cara mia, you don’t need to shower. We don’t have time. You can shower as soon as we arrive in the chalet…" I said carefully but she shook her head.

"I smell… I’m not arriving smelly for Christmas…"

"Technically it’s not Christmas yet, so… and also you don’t smell… you just had a bath last night and I can still smell your coconut butter on your skin, so please. Just get dressed and let’s go. The cars are waiting. For over half an hour now…"

"Then why didn’t you set the alarm?" she looked at me annoyed.

"I did! I don’t know why it didn’t went off! Stupid alarm clock…" I walked over to my night stand to find the alarm clock to be off, not plugged into the wall "What the… oh no… my sweatpants… fuck…" I mumbled, remembering the struggle I had at night with my pants "With my phone this wouldn’t have happen…" I groaned more to myself when a half naked Lizzie stepped out of the closet.

"What did you say?" she cocked an eyebrow and I held my hands up "Is it my fault now for protecting our babies? Last night you said I was the best mum because of it!" her bottom lip began to wobble and I hastily pulled her into me.

"And I meant it! Okay? It’s all good. Just-… please get ready. I feel bad for the drivers to wait this long because of me… and the jet and everything…" I whispered against the side of her head, kissing her temple.

"Okay. I’m almost done…" she breathed out "You need to get dressed yourself…"

"On it…"

15 minutes later I strapped Emmie into her seat and gave the driver the all clear to drive, although I had a feeling like we forgot something at home. I was nervously fidgeting with my phone next to Lizzie who happily munched on the croissant I got her from the bakery.

"What is it?" she asked after another minute of me nervously tapping my foot.

"I feel like we forgot something…" I mumbled, going over the list inside my head "I just don’t know what…"

"It can’t be important if you don’t remember it."

"I don’t know…" I looked outside the window, the car approaching the little private airport.

We had all of the bags, there was nothing left when we left the penthouse. I checked Emmie’s backpack and she had packed all her night plushies. Arlo laid on the floor in front of me, his bag with his toys and leashes in the back. Lizzie packer her bag with her books and computer last night herself and it rested now next to her on the seat. The bag with her snacks on the floor next to my feet. I couldn’t grasp what was missing but still I felt like it.

"Charles?" Lizzie grabbed my hand, squeezing it "We’ve got everything. It’s fine, you’ll see…"

"Yeah… I hope so…" I mumbled watching the car in front with our baggage stopping on the tarmac "It’s too late now anyways I guess…" I unbuckled Emmie and got out of the car, taking her with me. I helped Lizzie out of the car and she took Emmie from me, walking with Arlo towards the jet while I helped loading our baggage onto the cart, before I walked up the stairs of the jet myself.

"Welcome on board, Mr. Leclerc." the pilot shook my hand and I smiled.

"Thank you, and sorry for the delay… it got a little hectic this morning…"

"All good, Sir. Why don’t you take a seat and we’re preparing for take off."

"Thank you." I took off my jacket, handing it to the flight attendant who stored it away.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" she smiled and I shook my head, sitting down on front off Lizzie, Emmie next to her on the seat, looking outside the window.

I leaned my head back. Closing my eyes. One last time going over the list in my head. One last time going over every piece of baggage we just unloaded from the car. Lizzie’s suitcases, my suitcases, Emmie’s suitcases, the bags full off her and Arlo’s toys, the bags full of presents. The bag with Lizzie’s snacks and last but not least the 2 suitcases and backpack of…

"JORIS!" I shouted, Lizzie and Emmie both looking at me "WE FORGOT JORIS!" I took my phone out, about to call him when he already did the same.

"Jo-…"

"I can’t believe you forgot me at home…"

"I swear-…"

"Like seriously? What is this? Home alone? Your alarm doesn’t go off and you forget me in all the hectic?"

"I’m so sorry! I send the ca-…"

"Just be glad it’s more like Home Alone 2. I woke up by myself and-…" he hung up "And got in the car right in time… I just wanted to wait how long it would take you to figure out that I wasn’t with you…" Joris walked inside the jet, plopping down in the seat next to us.

"I’m so so sorry!" I looked at him sheepishly and Emmie climbed off her seat, walking over to Joris who picked her up, sitting her down in his lap.

"Jojo made Emmie hair look nice." she smiled and I looked at her, then at him.

"What?" I said and looked at Lizzie "I thought you did that?"

"I thought you did?" she replied and Joris laughed.

"Nope, I did, right Emmie bug?" he cooed at her and she smiled "And now that we’re all here… I say let’s go. Christmas is just right around the corner…"

"Christmas with pesents! Pesents for evyone!" Emmie said excited, clapping her hands "Mewwy Christmas evyone!"

🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄

I hope you enjoyed this (not so) little something and I hope you all had amazing Holidays!

Taglist: (If you don’t like to be tagged for this, let me know)

@itsjustkhaos @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @silkenthusiasts @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeh22 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09 @fangirlforever2000