#can you guys show me something for once and not tell me

[steveseddie]

apply directly to the forehead

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: alone | rating: t | wc: 997 | tags: hurt comfort, steve has migraines, eddie takes care of him, hand holding, forehead kisses read on ao3

No one notices when Steve slips out the front door. No one but Eddie, who tells Jonathan he’s going out for a smoke and follows him.

There are only woods around the Hopper-Byers cabin, and the only light comes from the Christmas lights hanging from the roof so it takes a moment for Eddie’s eyes to adjust to the near darkness. He sees Steve sitting on the steps with his head between his knees and taking slow, deep breaths. 

“Steve?” Eddie speaks softly, trying not to startle him but Steve still flinches. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Steve mumbles, keeping his head down. 

Eddie sits next to him. “Wanna try again? That wasn’t very convincing.”

Steve groans but it’s not his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan, it’s a pained groan. 

“‘S just a headache, ‘m fine,” Steve insists but his voice sounds weak. 

“Look at me.” Eddie squeezes his knee. “Stevie, please, look at me.” 

Steve sighs but lifts his head. Eddie can’t help but wince at how he looks. His face is twisted into a grimace, his skin is paper-white and there are tears in his eyes. 

“Oh, Steve. It’s a migraine, isn’t it? A bad one?” He gently brushes some hair off Steve’s face. Steve gives a tiny nod. “When did it start?” 

“A few hours ago,” Steve says with a shuddery breath. “While shopping with Robin, all the lights, the music and the crowds–”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Steve shrugs, then winces. “Didn’t want to worry anyone.” 

“Of course not.” That’s why Steve still showed up to the Hopper-Byers Christmas party, knowing there would be loud music and even louder kids, and then forced himself to smile through his pain. Eddie sighs. “C’mon, I’m taking you home.” 

“No, Eds–” Steve protests weakly. “I can drive myself-”

Eddie huffs. “Steve, you can’t even keep your eyes open right now.”

“But the party–”

“–will carry on without us,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes. “Wait here, okay?” 

Steve sighs and nods, and Eddie squeezes his knee again before heading back inside. 

He finds Robin and tells her that Steve isn’t feeling well and he’s taking him home. 

“Do you want me to come?” She asks, worried.

“Nah, I got him,” Eddie says. Steve wouldn’t want someone else to leave the party early because of him. “Just tell Hopper I’ll pick up the van tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay, thanks, Eddie,” she says with a quick hug. 

Outside, Eddie finds Steve leaning against the railing, looking like he’s about to keel over. 

“Alright, big boy. Let’s get you home,” he says, leading them to the Beemer.

“No van?” 

“Nope. You complain about how fucking loud my van is on a good day. Figured you wouldn’t appreciate it today of all days.”

Steve chuckles weakly. “Admit it, you just want an excuse to drive a cool car for once.” 

Eddie scoffs indignantly. “My van is plenty cool, Harrington.” 

“Uh huh.” 

He sticks his tongue out at Steve and starts the car. The drive to his house is quiet. Eddie turns the radio all the way off, Steve keeps his head against the window and his eyes closed, and Eddie tries his best not to jostle the car too much. 

He has to gently shake Steve’s shoulder once they arrive and then he follows him inside. 

He goes straight to his bedroom and collapses on the bed, taking his shoes off but leaving his jeans and his ugly Christmas sweater on. 

Eddie finds some sleeping clothes and tosses them his way. “Take those jeans off, Harrington.”

Steve huffs. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson,” he says, his hands working on his belt buckle. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn pink but with just the moonlight illuminating the room through the curtains, he doubts Steve can see it. “So that’s what it takes to get into Steve Harrington’s pants?”

“Usually,” Steve says, shoving his jeans off before sliding on sweatpants, keeping his movements slow to not make his headache worse. “But for a guy as hot as you, I can make an exception.”

Eddie chokes on his spit. Leave it to Steve to flirt while his head is waging a war against the rest of him.  

After changing out of his Christmas sweater, Steve falls back into bed, burrowing his face into his pillow with a groan. The mattress dips when Eddie sits next to him, his back against the headboard. Steve blinks one eye open. “You don’t have to stay, I’m–”

“-in no condition to be alone right now,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes.

“You should go back to the party. I didn’t mean to ruin your night–”

“Steve Harrington called me hot. Nothing could ruin my night after that,” he jokes even if there’s some truth to it. 

Steve groans– this time it is his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan. “I’m gonna regret saying that.” 

“Because you didn’t mean it or–”

“Oh, I meant it,” Steve says, rolling to his side and looking up at Eddie through half-lidded eyes that might not have anything to do with his migraine. “But now you can hold it against me.”

“It would be kind of hypocritical of me since I also find you hot,” Eddie says, playing with a rip in his jeans. 

Steve’s fingers find his, intertwining them. “If my head wasn’t about to explode I would suggest we do something about that.”

Eddie’s widen. “Something like–”

“Like kissing. Though I could be persuaded to do other things.”

“Jesus,” Eddie says laughing shakily. “Now my head feels like it might explode.”

“We can talk in the morning,” Steve says, shifting until he finds a comfortable position. 

“Thought you didn’t want me to stay,” Eddie teases.

“Said you didn’t have to stay, Eds. I always want you here.” 

Eddie’s stomach flutters. “Okay,” he says, sliding down until he’s lying next to Steve, their fingers still intertwined. 

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Steve whispers, half asleep already. 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Eddie says softly, kissing Steve’s forehead. “Anytime.”

[toranoya]

Inuyasha crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes with a playful smirk. “Tch. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, or I’d show you just how much power I’ve got, you smug jerk.” His tone held more amusement than actual bite, though, and his smirk softened as Ryu hopped down from the tree.

As Ryu mentioned Naraku’s associate, Inuyasha’s ears twitched, and he frowned. “Far worse, huh? That’s just great.” He plopped down beside Ryu, resting his Tessaiga across his lap. “Naraku’s already enough of a pain in the ass. We don’t need some bigger headache crawling out of the woodwork.”

He tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes scanning Ryu’s expression. “You got a name or a face for this associate? Or are we stuck playing Naraku’s stupid guessing games again?” Despite his grumbling, there was genuine curiosity in his voice—and maybe just a hint of concern.

After a moment, he leaned back, propping himself up with his hands. “But you know what? Forget that for a minute. If we’re gonna deal with something worse than Naraku, we’ll need to save our energy. So…” He glanced at Ryu with a sly grin. “How about you humor me and actually relax for once? You can tell me about this ‘far worse’ guy after.”

INU: Old Gods & Half Demons

@toranoya

[cosmicporos]

What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!

Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce

(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)

ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3

Not proofread

JINX

Hear me out… the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.

As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!

She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…

“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin’ explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”

They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.

“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”

The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….

“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"

I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.

Vi

She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???

Would end up both buying and making you something!

She’s make you something small but meaningful

“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”

You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.

"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."

Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.

She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.

She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!

Ekko

Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!

The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.

"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."

Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)

You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)

Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…

"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."

Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.

Viktor

FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN

o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.

As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.

Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!

He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!

Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!

He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.

He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.

"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.

OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.

Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."

The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.

you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."

Jayce

Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.

I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.

You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.

All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.

Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.

Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.

It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”

"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.

"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.

Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!

(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )

You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.

There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?

Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!

God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…

"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.

Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.

You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.

Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."

[ecemf]

And the Award Goes To... // A Carmen Berzatto Fanfic

18+!! MDNI!!

A/N: When this year started I definitely did not foresee myself writing not only one but two depraved fanfics both about hooking up in award ceremony bathrooms... but here we are.

This one actually took so long and I don't even really know if I like it but I hope y'all enjoy it. Big cheating vibes so if you're not into that don't read. Ok thanks bye!

Summary: As a writer for Vogue, you've been assigned to cover The James Beard Awards this year. This would be great, as your boyfriend is a nominee, if it weren't for the fact that your toxic ex was also nominated for the same goddamn award...

Warnings: cheating, smut, unprotected piv (wrap it before you tap it guys), choking, dom/sub dynamics, bit of degradation, porn with lots of plot, asshole boyfriend, asshole carmy, no usage of y/n

WC: ~5.8k

Enjoy!!

Nerves. That’s all you’ve been feeling this entire week.

When your boss had told you in October that you were assigned to cover the James Beard Awards you were elated. Partially because, you know, it was the goddamn James Beard Awards, but mostly because it would be your first major story at Vogue. You had been a writer for their Food column for a few months at that point, and while it wasn’t exactly as you had imagined it while writing it over and over in your manifestation journal, it wasn’t bad, and you were sure you could work your way up. This story was a chance for you to do so, so why would you pass it up?

What you didn’t know when you accepted the assignment weeks before the nominations came out, was that your new boyfriend, Alex Moore, would be nominated for Best Chef in the Midwest. This wouldn’t have been a problem- in fact quite the opposite -if it weren’t for the fact that your toxic ex who you hadn’t seen in ages was nominated for The Same. Damn. Award.

Now it’s May, and the dreaded day has arrived. You finish applying your vampy lipstick with a shaky hand as you hear Alex yell for you from downstairs. You two have been together for about 10 months now, and it’s been great. Alex is good; he’s stable. Sure he’s a bit egotistical and barely has any free time, but he’s a chef, aren’t they all that way? Alex talks about the future with you, he always calls when he’s tied up at the restaurant, he tells you he loves you.

He’s nothing like your ex, which is a good thing. You think. You love him. You think.

You rush down the stairs with your red Louboutins click-clacking on each wooden step. The shoes had been a six-month anniversary gift from Alex, who apparently didn’t know that anniversary means year. Your boyfriend came from old money which he loved to throw around, especially when it came to spoiling you. He had also purchased the dress you were wearing that night. It wasn’t something you would pick out, but it was nice. Simple and sexy without showing much skin.

“Finally,” he sighs, seeing you make it to the bottom of the stairs, “You look great in that dress. Shoes are a nice touch.”

“Thanks baby,” you say, approaching him where he stands by the counter, “You look hot,”

You go to give him a kiss but he puts his hand up before your lips can reach him, “Hey! Watch it!” He scolds, “I don’t want red lipstick marks all over me when I accept my award tonight, so you’re gonna have to keep it in your pants, nympho,”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, one that he gave you a few weeks into living together. Alex thinks it’s crazy that you want to have sex once (if not maybe two or three times) a day. He’s nothing like your ex.

—

When you arrive at the awards ceremony, your heart is racing. You had been squeezing Alex’s hand like a lifeline the entire ride there; he chalked it up to you being nervous about the work aspect of tonight.

You weave through people hand-in-hand with your boyfriend, saying hello to those you recognized, being introduced to those you didn’t. Currently, you were becoming acquainted with the sommelier from some new fusion place. Alex knew him from college. Or from when he did his training in Belgium? You aren't sure, you weren’t really listening. The only thing you’re focused on tonight is avoiding a very specific nominee. You hope you don’t seem too distracted in this (very boring) conversation.

“I’m gonna go find our seats,” you say to Alex, excusing yourself from the hellish small-talk, “It was great to meet you,” you say to- actually, you never caught her name.

As you saunter through the rows of tables, scanning each place card for you and your lover’s names, you try to calm yourself down. “No sign of him yet,” you think, “Maybe he won’t even come. That would be just like him, not showing up.”

Finally, you find the place card reading “Alex Moore”, but when you look at the table setting next to it, it’s empty. You glance around the table- maybe it blew off the plate? As you scan the surrounding area, you grow a bit concerned. Did they forget to put your name out? Were you even supposed to be there? You had no trouble getting in at the door, but-

“Looking for this?”

You freeze. Of fucking course he found your seat before you could.

You turn on your stiletto to see no one other than your ex-boyfriend, Carmen Berzatto, Executive Chef of The Bear. He stares back at you with your place card between his two fingers like a cigarette. Fitting.

“Please give that back,” you say, doing your best to seem unfazed by his presence.

“Wow,” he responds in mock-offense, “That’s the hello I get after all this time? C’mon, Jig,”

You wince at the nickname. You and Carmen had met while you were bartending in college. He was a regular at your bar, and you were a bright-eyed bushy-tailed 21-year-old hoping to make it as a food writer in the big city. You two bonded over your love of food, and would trade recommendations back and forth for different spots around town. You were the only bartender out of the whole staff who used a jigger (was no one else worried about their ratios??), so before he knew your name he would just call you Jigger, which then got shortened to Jig. Even after he finally asked for your name (and number), and even throughout your 3-year relationship (if you could even call it that), he still called you Jig more than your actual name.

“Hello Carmen,” you reply with a tight smile, extending your hand, “May I please have my place card for my seat?” You ask again.

As he opens his mouth to respond, you hear Alex calling out for you, “Babe!” He quickly walks over to where you and Carmen stand, “Hey, you found our seats?” He turns to look at Carmen, “Hey man, good to see you!” He embraces the chef, and takes a step back, looking at the place card in his hand, “Why do you have my girlfriend’s name in your hand?”

You panic. “Ummm… Carmen here found it on the ground, and he was kind enough to pick it up and come find me with it,” You (not so kindly) snatch the white paper out from between his fingers, “thank you again,” You hope your tone makes it clear that you want him to walk away.

“Find you…” Alex looks between the two of you, obviously confused, “Sorry, do you two know each other?” Shit.

Carmen looks at you, amused. You didn’t tell your boyfriend about him.

“Yeah!” You say, a little too enthusiastically, “Um yeah! I erm, I interviewed Carmen about The Bear for that article a few months back, remember honey?”

Alex looks back at you and thinks for a second. “Oh right, I remember that article,”

You never wrote an article about The Bear.

“And how could I forget such a face,” Carmen chimes in. You try to give him a warning with your eyes, and he seems to receive it when he says, “Well, it’s good to see you both, I should go find my place card this time. Good luck out there tonight, Alex,” He pats your boyfriend on the bicep.

“Hey, you too, man,” Alex responds, grinning. As Carmen walks away, he leans down to you and whispers not-so-discreetly, “He’ll need it,”

You try to ignore the comment as the two of you sit down. Your boyfriend was a good chef, a great chef even, but Carmen was better. When you read through the nominations all those months ago, you knew he would win tonight. As someone who had watched the man in his element, there was no doubt in your mind: Carmen would take home the award.

As people continue to mingle and find their seats, you take a glance around the room. The reception hall was huge, there had to be at least a thousand people in the building. Which is why it’s so painfully ironic that Carmen’s seat is in direct eye-line with yours. As you continue to survey your surroundings, his icy blue eyes meet yours. He was staring at you with a familiar look in his eye, and you try to ignore the knots it was tying your stomach into. You quickly look away, turning your attention back to Alex. He turns to look at you, and you go to give him a quick peck, forgetting your conversation from earlier. He once again stops you, rearing his head back to avoid your lips (or your lipstick, rather, so he claims).

“Sorry, I forgot,” you say dejectedly to your boyfriend, who looks at you like you just tried to stab him, “I’m gonna run to the bathroom really quickly before they get started,” you tell him, touching his arm.

“Okay, my speech won’t be until later in the ceremony, so no rush babe,” your ever so confident man responds.

You grab your purse as you head out of the large room, searching for the bathroom. You wish you could find an usher…

“Looking for the restroom?” Asks a young man in a suit. You nod. “It’s-“

“I can show her,” you hear from behind you as someone takes your arm, and before you know it, Carmen is leading you down the hall.

You quickly pull back from him, “Would you leave me alone?” You say quietly, hoping no one is watching or hearing this, “I am trying to work and enjoy my night, okay? You should do the same,” you start down the hallway again, alone this time.

“Alright…” Carmen says behind you, “the bathroom isn’t that way, just so you know.”

You stop, and turn to face him again, “So then where the fuck were you taking me?” You ask, exasperated.

“Well, if you would let me show you…” Carmen looks at you expectantly.

You stare back at him silently, and finally allow yourself to actually look at him. He looks good. Like, really good. Carmen never dresses up, but when he does, good lord he’s a sight for sore eyes. You indulge, ogling at the way his black dress shirt sits taught against his strong chest. Even under the thick suit he has on, you can see his strong arms. Those arms that used to hold you, throw you around, flip you over, help you bounce up and down on-

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Carmen says sarcastically, obviously noticing what you were doing.

You ignore his comment and his noticing, “if I follow you to this mystery place will you leave me alone tonight?”

“Is that really what you want?” Carmen responds with a certain edge to his voice. An edge you recognize. An edge you miss.

You gulp. “Yes,” you say quietly.

“You were always a bad liar,” Carmen mutters, walking past you down the hall, “c’mon, Jig,” he says for the second time tonight.

—

After a few more hallways and a flight of stairs, you and Carmen arrive on the roof of the building. As soon as you’re outside, the blonde pulls out a pack of cigarettes, silently offering you one as his hangs out of his mouth.

“No thanks, I quit,” you say, putting your hand up.

“Well look at you, changed woman,” He jokes as he lights his cigarette, “Old Money Moore wasn’t into it?”

You roll your eyes at the jab at your boyfriend, “For your information, I quit before me and Alex even met,” you look down at your shoes and shiver a bit in the evening air, “why are we up here, Carmen?”

“Will you stop calling me that?”

“Stop calling you your name?”

“Yeah, it’s weird. You never used to call me that,” he takes another drag of his cigarette, “I mean, unless we were fighting,”

“So most of the time, actually,” You respond, humorlessly.

“Did we spend most of our time fighting?” The man looks you up and down as he continues to smoke, “As I recall we spent most of our time fucking,” he exhales.

You bring your fingers to your temples, “Oh my God, get to the point,” you glance down at your phone, “the ceremony’s going to start soon, and I really don’t want to miss anything,” you say. And you mean it - you have a goddamn article to write!

“Is he gay?” Carmen smirks at you.

“W- what? Is who gay? What are you talking about?”

“Your ‘boyfriend’,” he makes air-quotes around the word, “Alex, is he gay?”

You have half a mind to just turn around and head back to the ceremony, but you don’t. You’re not sure why. Yes you are.

“Firstly, he is my boyfriend. No need for the air quotes, asshole,” You start, annoyed that you’re even having this stupid conversation, “secondly, no, he is not gay. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a woman, and we’re in a relationship, so,”

“Oh I’ve noticed,” Carmen says, raking his eyes up and down your body, “I was just asking because I watched him refuse to kiss you earlier,” he throws his cigarette on the concrete ground, stubbing it out with his foot, “and any man who refuses to kiss a woman who looks like you, well, I just have to assume he probably isn’t into women,”

Your face goes hot. Half from the embarrassment, half from arousal. Boy was he laying it on thick. You clear your throat and meet his eyes, which you had been avoiding doing since the two of you got alone.

“Not that it’s really any of your business,” you start, narrowing your eyes at Carmen, “but he asked me not to kiss him so that I wouldn’t get lipstick on him for when he-“ you cut yourself off, realizing how ridiculous it sounds out loud.

Carmen chuckles, staring into your soul. You avert your eyes.

“When he what, baby?” He asks, coyly.

“Don’t call me that,” you say sternly. Or at least try to.

Carmen starts walking towards you, slowly. He backs you up against the wall behind you until there’s only a few inches of space between the two of you. You still avoid meeting his eyes.

“Jig, look at me,” he says quietly, and you obey, finally locking eyes with him. He moves even closer to you and puts his hand on the wall above you, caging you in, “he doesn’t want your lipstick on him for when he does what?” Your faces are so close he’s almost whispering. God, you wish he would leave you alone. No you don’t.

“For when he wins the award tonight…” you say, barely loud enough for Carmen to hear. But he obviously does, as he hangs his head and laughs. The tops of his curls nearly touch your nose. You stare up at the sky again, half from embarrassment, half from arousal. He was so goddamn close. You could smell him.

He lifts his head, still chuckling a bit, “that dumbass thinks he’s going to win the award tonight?” He asks you in disbelief, “like seriously?”

You knew Carmen would win the award, there was no doubt about it, but he was being a major asshole. A sexy asshole, but it was a bit much.

“Carmy-” You go to tell him it wouldn’t be impossible for Alex to win, but you freeze when the nickname slips out of your mouth. He smiles devilishly at you.

“There it is,” he says with that shit-eating grin on his face, “say it again,” he whispers, getting his mouth dangerously close to yours.

“Stop it,” you whisper back. His nose nudges yours and you turn your head to the side.

“What’s my name baby?” Carmy murmurs as he ghosts his lips up and down your neck, “Say it again, sweet girl,” he pulls the neckline of your dress to the side and bites down.

“Carmy,” You whine. You grip his shirt, trying to find something to ground you as your ex-boyfriend sucks a mark into your collarbone, “please, I can’t,”

“But you want to,” he smirks as he continues kissing your neck, your insides becoming molten lava, “Alex doesn’t need to worry about your lipstick on his face, baby. You know why?” He pulls back and looks you in your eyes, already glazed-over and needy, “because I’m gonna win that goddamn award,” he grips your waist as he pulls you tightly to him and whispers in your ear, “and then I’m gonna fuck his girlfriend while I wear it.”

You try to catch your breath as he releases you and your back hits the wall. Carmen takes his thumb and runs it over your bottom lip. You think he’s going to put it in your mouth, but he just wipes a bit of the lipstick off of it. You watch in lustful amazement as he then takes the red pigment and rubs it on his neck underneath his collar. He pushes off the wall and without a word leaves you standing up on the roof, alone, soaking through your underwear.

—

“Jeez, did you fall in?” Alex says quietly as you shimmy into your seat. You had missed the beginning of the ceremony. “Are you feeling okay? You look a bit flushed,” he rests a hand on your thigh and you give him a small smile.

“Yeah, sorry, you know women’s bathroom lines…” you say through tight lips, hoping he doesn’t ask any more questions.

Your prayers are answered when your boyfriend simply nods and turns back to the presenters. You turn to see Carmy staring holes through you, with that stupid goddamn smirk on his face. You take a deep breath and try to return your attention to the stage.

—

You sit through a handful of awards and speeches, and finally it comes to the “Best Chef” section of the night. Up first: Midwest. AKA: Your Boyfriend vs. Your Ex. Your heart races as you watch the presenter give a speech about the award and the nominees. He reads off all of the names of the nominees, and your palms sweat as you rest a hand on Alex’s shoulder.

The room is quiet as the announcer says, “And the James Beard Award goes to…”

You inhale.

“…Carmen Berzatto of The Bear!”

You exhale.

Alex curses under his breath and clenches his fists. You try to rub his back but for the third time tonight, he pushes you away. You sit quietly with your hands in your lap as Carmen takes the stage. God, why does he look so good even in stage lighting?

Carmen walks up to the microphone after having the medal placed on him by the presenter.

“Wow. Um, I’d like to thank my team first and foremost, I wouldn’t be able to achieve anything without them. I’d erm, I’d like to specifically thank Sydney Adamu, my sous chef and partner. She really should be the one up here, but I guess I’ll take it,” The crowd laughs along with him, “I’m really grateful for this award and anyone who’s ever eaten at The Bear. Thank you.” He looks dead into your eyes and grabs the medal as he ends his speech, “I can’t wait to wear this thing!”

Everyone laughs except for you, whose face goes beet red. Luckily the lights are dim enough for it not to be an issue, but you can hear the blood pumping in your ears. You turn your attention back to Alex, whose ears had apparently had steam coming out of them for the past two minutes.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” he mutters, “that was supposed to be my award. After all the fucking money my parents donated to this foundation? What a joke.”

You pretend you don’t hear your boyfriend whining like a spoiled brat, “Are you okay?” You ask sweetly, “It’s just an award baby, it doesn’t really mean anything,” you try to replace your hand on his shoulder but he swats it away. Hard.

“Jesus can you not touch me for like five fucking seconds?” He says, pretty loudly, considering they’re in the middle of presenting the Best Chef Northeast award. You look up to see if anyone heard and see Carmy coming down the steps of the stage, clenching his jaw as he watches the interaction. You hold your stinging hand and excuse yourself to the restroom before your tears of anger can spill over.

As you stand in the mirror, dabbing your eyes before any more tears can fall, you hear the bathroom door creak open and the deadbolt turn. Behind you in the mirror appears who else but Carmen fucking Berzatto, wearing that stupid fucking James Beard Award. You stare at him through the mirror, silently.

“Well, aren’t you gonna congratulate me?” He says, walking towards you. You turn around to face him, “C’mon, Jig, nothing?”

You stare at Carmen. You watch the way he stares back. All of today’s events race through your head. All the times your boyfriend rejected you, dismissed you, ignored you. Those moments on the roof, the adrenaline you felt, Carmy’s words ringing through your mind.

“and then I’m gonna fuck his girlfriend while I wear it.”

You reach out and grab the medal on his chest and use it to pull him into you. It’s intense off the bat, a mix of teeth tongue and lips, hands frantically grasping at each other. Carmy grips your neck and your waist as you lace your fingers through his curls and give a tug that earns you a soft moan. You begin kissing down his neck, leaving dark red lipstick marks all over. You push his sport coat off his shoulders and begin undoing the buttons at the top of his shirt.

“Eager, are we?” Carmen teases, helping you in removing his shirt.

“Just shut up and fuck me, Bear,” you respond, bringing his mouth back to yours.

“Mmm,” Carmen pulls away, “what happened to my good girl who used to beg so politely?”

“She only gets fucked once every two weeks so she’s kind of impatient right now,” you say as you continue to place kisses all over Carmy’s upper body and palm at his erection.

“Hold the fuck-“ Carmy pushes you off of him and looks at you with shock on his face, “that asshole only fucks you twice a month??”

You look back at him in all of his glory. His curls messy from your hands, his sculpted form covered in your lipstick marks, his pupils blown, his dick, well, huge. Why did you ever give this up?

“He just doesn’t have a high sex drive he says,” you shrug, putting your hands back onto him, “I don’t really wanna talk right now, Carmy,”

“Does he at least eat you out first?” He looks genuinely perplexed and frightened by this information. How could someone have this masterpiece of a woman under their roof and not be ravaging her at least once a day?

“I asked you to fuck me, not make me laugh, Berzatto,” you deadpan back at the man, “seriously, now you know how much I need this, so please,”

“Oh you need it bad, baby,” Carmen says as he turns you around to face the mirror. He begins unzipping your dress ever so slowly, leaving kisses across every inch of your back. You step out of your dress, left only in your matching bra and underwear along with your red Louboutins. “Turn around,” Carmy orders.

You do so. You look at Carmy through your lashes, feeling equally exposed and terrifyingly aroused. The man growls underneath his breath, just staring at you.

“What a fucking idiot,” he says, before picking you up and placing you on the countertop, “doesn’t fucking realize what he has, rich fucking asshole,” Carmy mutters more nasty things about your boyfriend as he pulls your panties down your legs. He smells the soaked fabric before putting them in the pocket of his trousers. He pulls your legs open and groans loudly. “Jesus, baby, is all this for me?” He runs a finger through your soaked folds, collecting some of your arousal which had been building since you first saw him hours ago.

You squirm atop the counter as Carmy just toys with you. He stares at your vagina with amazement, like it’s a piece of art. Finally, he dives in, licking a flat stripe from your entrance to your clit. You gasp loudly. One of your hands flies to grip onto the counter top while the other finds purchase in the golden curls currently perched between your thighs.

It’s just as good as you remember it. That’s the problem, always has been. The sex is so goddamn good. It’s what kept you crawling back every time Carmen would hurt you for 3 long years. You hated your past self for always giving in, but right now, you understood her completely.

Carmy swirled his tongue around your clit as he inserted two thick fingers into your entrance, curling them just right. The stretch was like nothing else. You let out a beautiful noise, causing him to groan into your pussy, the vibrations adding to the delicious stimulation. You clenched around his fingers as he continued his ministrations, feeling that familiar knot tightening in your lower stomach.

“You gonna give me one?” Carmy says, looking up at you with a soaked face and hungry eyes, “You gonna come all over my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, Carmy, yes, oh my god,” you babble, feeling so close, “please don’t stop baby,”

Carmen raises to his feet while continuing to finger you. He pulls you closer to him, leaning into your ear. “Does that feel good, princess?”

As you moan uncontrollably as you muster a “yes feels good,” but you know the questioning won’t end there.

“Yeah baby?” Carmen adds a third finger and you squeal, “how good does it feel?”

“God it feels so good please don’t stop,”

“Who’s making you feel this good, sweet girl?” He continues to whisper into your ear.

“You Carmy, it’s always you,” you respond breathily, the coil in your stomach moments from snapping.

“Say it again,” Carmen growls.

“Carmy oh my god-“ and with that your vision blanks. Your legs shake as you come harder than you have since… well since the last time you fucked Carmy. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he continues his movements, prolonging your orgasm.

You grip onto his strong shoulders as you come down, resting your forehead against his as he removes his fingers from you.

“Jesus Christ,” you say, as you watch him stick all three fingers into his mouth and suck off your residue. You watch familiarly as he gathers spit in his mouth and grabs your jaw. Knowing the routine, you gladly open your mouth, as he spits in the mixture of the two of you. You moan as you taste yourself mixed with Carmen.

“Swallow,” he demands, holding your throat. And you do. “There’s my good girl,” he says, undoing his belt with one hand, “thought I lost you there, baby,”

You hum contentedly as he continues to hold you by your throat while he pulls his cock out of his pants and boxers. You moan at the sight of the state of it. Veins bulging, tip bright red and leaking, and, well, huge.

Carmen pumps himself a few times before saying, “take your bra off,” letting go of your throat to opt for one of your newly free breasts, “love these fucking tits, god.”

You squeeze your legs together as he strokes himself while playing with your nipples. It’s hot, but you need more. Now.

“Carmy, please,” you said, making your sweetest eyes at him, “I need you so bad,”

“You gonna beg me baby?” He responds with that stupid grin on his face.

“I’ll do anything,” you say, disregarding your pride (and your boyfriend).

“Is that right, angel?” He asks, caressing your face as you nod, lowering his voice, “you’ll do anything for this dick?” He continues stroking it as he looks into your eyes, “you need to get fucked so badly that you’re in here begging me for my cock while your boyfriend’s in the other room. Didn’t realize you were such a slut, baby,”

Your pussy throbs as Carmen continues to taunt you, “yes, I’ll do anything please,” you’re truly so desperate at this point, “please just give me your cock Carmy,”

“Say it,”

“Say what?” You ask, genuinely confused.

“Say you’re my slut,”

You gulp. “I- I’m your slut,”

“And why are you a slut?”

“B-because I’m in here begging for your cock when my boyfriend’s right outside…”

“And why are you begging me for my cock when you have a boyfriend?”

Okay this interrogation was getting old.

“Because it’s so much better, Carmy, please just give me your dick haven’t I been good?”

“You’ve been so good, baby,” Carmy says as he pries open your thighs and buries himself inside of you.

You yelp at the intrusion, not expecting himself to push himself in to the hilt on the first stroke.

Carmen lifts up your right leg and puts it over his shoulder. Then the left. He watches as your tits bounce while you half-lay on the countertop. You watch as his medal bounces on his chest with each thrust. He notices.

“You like that baby?” He asks, snaking a hand down to rub circles on your clit, “you like getting fucked by the best chef in the midwest?”

“Yes Carmy, fuck, just like that,” you moan out, “best dick in the midwest,” you say, somewhat jokingly.

Carmen half-laughs half-growls at the comment, “that’s fucking right, baby, best dick you’ll ever have. That’s why you keep coming back, right? That’s why you’re in here cheating on your stupid fucking boyfriend? Yeah?” With that last comment, he delivers a slap to your clit, causing you to scream and your pussy to clamp down around him.

“Fuck always so tight, princess, always so good for me,” Carmy babbles, getting lost inside of you, “this is my pussy. No one else’s. Say it.”

“It’s- fuck!” You yell as Carmen adjusts his angle, now hitting your G-spot over and over, “It’s your pussy Carmy, fuck! It belongs to you, I belong to you, oh my God don’t stop, please!”

It seems like Carmy misheard you as he stops fucking you and pulls you down off the counter top and kisses you ferociously. He grabs at your ass and you whine at the loss of him inside of you.

“Hold on baby, I’ve got you,” he says against your lips, “just need to do something,” he says, as he lifts off his medal and places it around your neck. You look up at him, confused. “Turn around,” he says, darkly.

You turn around to look at yourself in the mirror. There’s a red mark around your neck from where Carmen was gripping you, your updo from earlier is now mostly down, your chest is littered with small hickies, and between your tits lies a motherfucking James Beard Award.

Carmen pushes on your upper back so that you’re leaning over the counter and re-enters you at a punishing pace. The bathroom is filled with lewd noises of skin slapping skin and moaning. You look up to see Carmen staring at you through the mirror. Except, he’s not looking at your face, he’s staring at your tits. Wait. No. He’s staring at the medal bouncing with your tits.

Carmen looks into your eyes through the mirror, “yeah look at you,” he growls, somehow pushing into you even faster now, “my girl wearing my fucking award. Jesus Christ look at that,” he watches intently as the piece of silver bounces off of your chest with each thrust he delivers, “fuck, who’s the best baby?”

“It’s you, Carmy, you’re the best,” you moan out in response, “you’re the best,”

Carmen reaches around you and grabs the medal, but keeps the ribbon around your neck. He pulls on it just enough that your back arches and your head falls onto his shoulder. The new angle this creates is mind-blowing, and you once again moan all too loudly. Carmen litters kisses and bites along the shell of your ear.

“I’m so close baby,” he strains into your ear, “want you to come with me,”

With that he takes his free hand and resumes his work on your clit. The combination of the dragging of his thick cock over your G-spot over and over again with the tight circles he’s rubbing into you has you barreling towards your second orgasm. Knowing your body the way he does, Carmy can tell, and he tries his best to time his release with yours.

With one final stroke, you’re coming undone on Carmy’s dick, throat still held tight by the ribbon of his award. Carmen stutters as he comes inside of you with a groan, holding your hips in a way that will bruise as he paints your insides, the warmth adding to your intense pleasure. You both come down from your highs with a collection of sighs and moans, and finally, Carmy pulls out of you. You whimper at the loss of contact and the feeling of him leaking out of you.

Wordlessly, you begin to dress yourself again. You don’t even bother asking Carmen for your panties back, that’s an argument you’ve lost to him enough times already. You zip your dress back up, Carmen silently helping you get it to the top as he too works on making himself decent again. You attempt to fix your hair looking in the mirror, getting it back to a somewhat similar state to when you arrived earlier this evening. You smooth out your dress, and go to walk out of the bathroom when Carmen clears his throat.

“You, um,” he looks at the floor before making that piercing eye contact he’s so good at, “you deserve better, you know, than that asshole,”

You stare back at the man you loved for so many years. The man you still love today. He was right, you did deserve better. Better than Alex, but better than him, too. You nod back at him with tears in your eyes.

“Congratulations on your award, Carmen,” you say quietly. You walk out of the bathroom, back to the ceremony.

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 9

Hey guys! Only one chapter of this one this week, I promise. But it's the chapter. The best chapter.

Eddie comes home! And Steve gets help in the kitchen.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8

~

Eddie insisted on having a cook come in and make dinner three times a week. That included Steve’s day off, so he would be cooking for most of their meals but that he would have help on those three days.

Steve disregarded professional chefs right off the bat. Eddie didn’t need to pay some big named star to make mediocre food for the girls. And would have stuck to that if the best candidate wasn’t a French Culinary school graduate with having owned two Michelin star restaurants.

His name was Benny Hammond and he was retired. He just wanted something fun to do in his spare time. Steve talked about what the girls liked, what recipes he had and when Eddie would be home.

“I haven’t cooked for kids in ages,” he said with a grin. “That sounds like a fun challenge. Count me in!”

Just after one week with Benny making all the meals, Eddie cackled an ‘I told you so!’ on his evening call with the girls.

“I didn’t realize how much energy all the cooking was taking until I had a day without doing it,” Steve whined.

“He made us grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup,” Joan said brightly. “It was nummy, Daddy.”

“And the soup didn’t even come in a can!” Janice crowed. “Not even the tomatoes.”

“It was better than how I make it,” Steve grumbled into Joan’s hair.

But Eddie caught it anyway. “Sounds like someone was right. So what do we say, Stevie?”

Steve wanted to pout but that would set a really bad example for the girls so he straightened up and sighed. “Thank you Eddie. Benny was the final piece of the puzzle we all needed to for a well run household.”

“Good!” Eddie said brightly. “I have some news. It’s bad news for the band, but good news for everyone else.”

Both girls perked up and started talking over each other as they tried to guess what it was.

“Joanie! Janie!” Eddie barked from the tablet Steve was holding. “If you’ll let me talk, I’ll be able to tell you.” Once both girls had settled, Eddie cleared his throat. “Thanks to a major hurricane, the last two shows have been combined into one big fundraiser for the towns devastated by the storm.”

“I heard about that on the news,” Steve said with a nod. “I’m sorry the tour has to wrap up early, though. I know you were really looking forward to playing in Ashville.”

“It is what it is,” Eddie said resigned. “But all proceeds will go to disaster relief so some good will come out of it.”

“Well, that’s good,” Steve murmured. “I’ve got to get these little munchkin to their bath, but I guess we’ll see you on Saturday.”

“So you will,” Eddie replied warmly. “Good night, girlies!”

“Night, Daddy!” Janice and Joan chorused. Then they clambered off Steve’s lap and tore off for their bedroom.

Steve turned off the app and laid the tablet down with a sigh. It was a good thing that Eddie was coming home. He just felt conflicted about how soon it was now. He thought he would have more to get his emotions under control.

~

Janice and Joan wanted to dress up really nice for their dad so Steve helped them pick out their outfits.

Janice had completely surprised Steve when she pulled out a pretty plaid skirt and a white blouse. She was such a tomboy most of the time, that he wasn’t even aware she had skirts and dresses in her closet.

Joan wore a matching plaid jumper dress with a similar style in blouse. They even had matching black Mary Jane shoes.

Steve had never seen them look more like twins in the whole time he had known them. They even asked him for matching French braid pigtails.

Janice and Joan sat in front of the window, anxiously waiting for the Uber that would be dropping their dad off so they could see him in person for the first time in months. Steve had originally tried to distract them from the ever present ticking clock, but gave up about an hour in.

They were just too keyed up.

Then an unknown silver SUV pulled up to the house and out Eddie popped. The girls started screaming and jumping up and down.

“Girls go get your signs!” Steve said brightly and they ran off to grab the signs they had made yesterday.

The door opened to a very bedraggled Eddie and the second he saw his girls with matching outfits and cute little signs saying Welcome Home, he dropped to his knees. He threw open his arms and both girls dogpiled him.

There were tears flowing down all three of their faces. Eddie picked them both up and walked toward the sofa, then he carefully lowered himself onto its surface.

Steve just smiled and walked away.

He made his way to the kitchen where Benny was slaving away at marvelous homecoming meal. Steve leaned up against the doorway and watched as the large chef chopped away at some vegetables. His skill was always fun to watch.

“I thought I told you that you weren’t allowed in the kitchen when I work,” Benny said without turning around.

Steve huffed out a breathy laugh. “I’m following your rule, you grumpy old man. I’m not in the kitchen.”

Benny turned around and sniffed. “Close enough.” He looked up at the clock. “Shouldn’t the master of the house be home by now.” He waved to a bar stool for Steve to take a seat.

“He’s here,” Steve said, sitting down. “But I don’t know him well enough to know if he’s the kind of man that likes crying in front of other adults. Especially ones he doesn’t know well.”

Benny stopped for a moment and then nodded, going back to his chopping. “That’s fair. You’re like me, when things get too emotional, we come to kitchen to work out those emotions.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding back. “I love having you here. It makes taking care of the girls so much easier...”

“But sometimes you wish that you can just come into the kitchen and make something?” Benny finished. “Next time you feel that way, let me know and I’ll teach you a technique or a new recipe, all right?”

“Thanks, Benny.”

After a few minutes of contented silence Benny spoke, “You should probably go check on them and makes sure they’re alive enough to eat my dinner.”

Steve laughed, slapping a hand the counter and getting up. “You got it.”

He wandered back to the front room but no one was there. Steve frowned and went to Eddie’s office, but they weren’t there either. He put his hands on his hips and pursed his lips. Where could they have gone?

He tapped his lips thoughtfully and the darted up the stairs, taking them at two at a time. He reached the top in no time at all and sure enough he could hear giggling. With a sigh of relief he walked to the girls’ room and pushed open the partially closed door.

Joan had decorated Eddie’s hair with ribbons while Janice read “Opposites” to him in a very serious tone.

Steve couldn’t hold back the bark of laughter when he saw the absolutely besotted expression on Eddie’s face.

Eddie looked up in shock and then when he saw who it was, he grinned. “Do I look pretty?”

“The prettiest,” Steve confirmed, moving further into the room. “Benny sent me in search of everyone because dinner is almost ready.”

Eddie’s face really lit up. “Ooh. He asked me what my favorite dish was and is making it for me. I’m really excited to see what a Michelin chef can do with poor people food.”

The girls both made faces and Steve gave them a look. “Remember when you went to Maria’s birthday party and the cake was carrot and you didn’t like it?”

Both girls nodded and Eddie looked suddenly interested in the new lesson they learned. “What’s this?” he asked gleefully.

“When it’s someone else’s day,” Joan said, “they can have whatever they want for their party.” She scuffed her shoe on the carpet. “So since it’s Daddy’s homecoming day, he can have whatever he wants.”

Eddie cackled in satisfaction. “Yes, girls that is a very important lesson to learn. It’s hardly my fault you inherited your Papa’s palate. I like it and so we are going to have it for dinner.”

“I’ve seen it,” Steve said, barely concealing a smile. “It looks fantastic. I can’t wait to try it.” He bent down to the girls’ level. “Remember the three bite rule. You take three regular sized bites and if you don’t like it, you can have something else.”

Joan nodded solemnly but Janice’s face as twisted up in distaste. Steve just shook his head. “Go wash your hands, girls and then join us at the dinner table.”

Both girls were off with a flash and Steve held out his hand to help Eddie to his feet. Once on his feet Eddie flashed him a broad smile that really showed off those dimples. He looked...cute.

Just then the door to the girls’ bathroom burst open and Steve dropped Eddie’s hand. Not quick or harsh. Just a simple act of letting go.

“I’ll race you to the table!” Eddie crowed, ducking around Steve.

Both girls squealed in delight and they were off like a shot, tearing down the stairs like a herd of elephants being told that it was peanut time.

Steve followed more slowly behind just soaking up how happy the girls were that their dad was home at last. The trip had clearly done Eddie good. He had color in his cheeks and his shoulders were no longer up around his ears, like dog expecting to be hit. Time away from the girls really helped him out.

“Come sit by me!” Joan cried when he entered the dinning room. She patted the spot between her and across from Eddie.

Eddie lit up at that and grinned at Steve. “Looks like you’re stuck with us now, Stevie boy! Once Joanie’s got her hooks in ya, you can’t leave.”

Steve smiled and shook his head fondly. “That would imply that I would want to leave in the first place.” He bopped Joan’s nose and she giggled. “And that would never happen ever!”

Just then Benny came in hold a large casserole dish. It had tatter tots covered with cheese and it just smelled heavenly. Benny set it on the table and began serving them. Inside was fresh peas and carrots and shredded beef in a mushroom sauce, gently seasoned with herbs and spices. Steve couldn’t wait to dig in.

Eddie was served first and he bit into that first bite. The moan of pleasure that escaped his lips, caused Steve’s eyes to roll back and flutter shut as he tried to think of very gross things to keep his embarrassing erection to a minimum.

“Benny!” Eddie cried. “This is amazing! You really out did yourself.” He grabbed the spoon from the dish and brandished it at Steve and the twins. “Mine! All for me!”

Steve laughed and then took a bite of his own and his eyes snapped up. “Sorry girls, but it appears I’m going to have duel your dad for the rest of this casserole.”

“Betrayed!” Eddie said, clutching the spoon to him. Suddenly he got a wicked gleam in his eye and he licked the spoon.

“Ewww...” Janice crowed.

“Gross!” Joan agreed.

Steve just shook his head and turned back to his meal. He wasn’t going to do something in front of the girls, because it would be the wrong lesson to teach, but he was highly tempted to grab the spoon and lick another stripe right next to Eddie’s. But for now he would bide his time.

The two girls managed to eat about half before declaring they wanted something else. So Benny took them into the kitchen to fix them something they would eat.

Steve leaned over and whispered, “Jokes on you, I’m a nanny, a little spit won’t deter me from what I want.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and he shoved his hair in front of his face to hide his blush as Steve helped himself to another spoonful of the casserole.

Steve ate in smug silence as Eddie took a moment to come back online. He cleared his throat a couple of times but didn’t dare speak.

Once Steve had eaten his fill, he picked up the girls’ dishes and piled them on his plate. He stood up but before turning away to take the dishes into the kitchen, he said softly. “I’m glad you’re home too.”

Eddie looked up at him in awe and nodded. “It’s good to be home, Stevie. It’s so good to be home.”

Steve smiled and walked away.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight @gregre369

2- ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

8- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

9- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers @fearieshadow @blondie1006

10- @thesecondfate @wheneverfeasible @depressed-freak13 @genderless-spoon @yesdangerpls

[supercap2319]

A/N: This could be given as a sequel to my last Fiyero Tigelaar fic.

: readmore:

Y/N watched as Fiyero approached him, Galinda hot at his heels. The Winkie prince gave him an easy going smile. This adorable little bookworm would soon be his. Fiyero thought to himself. There wasn't a person alive who could resist him once he turned up the charm.

“Hello, there.” Fiyero wiggled his fingers as Y/N shut his book and laid it down, giving Fiyero an annoyed look. “Hello.” Y/N’s greeting was about as warm and welcoming as a winter frost. Fiyero didn't seem to mind or notice as he gave a small bow. “You're Y/N, correct?”

“Yes, that's correct.”

“Well, allow me to introduce myself. I am Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie–”

“–I don't really give a damn who you are.” Y/N said.

The whole student body shared a collective gasp of shock. They had watched as Fiyero approached Y/N, only for the Upland boy to reject him. What was wrong with Y/N? Even Galinda was appalled by her brother's actions. “Y/N, how can you be so rude?” She admonished. “Fiyero is new here, and you're…you're…”

“You're a breath of fresh air.” Fiyero smiles.

“What?!” Everyone asked. Even Y/N was shocked by the Prince's unbothered attitude of how Y/N addressed him. Fiyero nods and smiles. “Yes, a breath of fresh air if you will. I've been to many schools to get swarmed by people who only say things that I wanna hear. It's refreshing to have someone have their own opinion for once. Tell me, Y/N. What are you doing out here?”

“Reading?” Y/N held up his book. “I trust you've seen one before. Or know how to read.”

Once again, Fiyero laughed as if Y/N’s snide comments didn't bother him in the slightest. Galinda gave an awkward chuckle as well. How could Fiyero be so nonchalant about being insulted? Especially his intelligence. “Well, I suppose I've never had a penchant for reading , but perhaps I haven't been introduced to the right book to captivate my attention.”

“Perhaps not.”

“Why don't you show me to your local library? I'm sure I could find something there with your help.” Fiyero smiles. His blue eyes were dancing with mischief and fun. Before Y/N could tell Fiyero to go jump off a cliff, Galinda stepped in. “Oh, we would be certainly delighted to show you around. Wouldn't we, Y/N?” Her smile was tight, and anything other than a ‘yes’ from Y/N would make Galinda upset.

Y/N sighed and stood up, trying to ignore the triumph smirk Fiyero was giving him at the moment. He began walking towards the Shiz building, not checking to see if Fiyero. “The library is this way, Prince Twinkie.” He continues towards the building as Galinda pulls a smirking Fiyero along. Oh, he was going to like this little bookworm.

They walked into the library, where Y/N spotted his dear friend, Elphaba, and waved as Galinda gave Fiyero a tour of someplace she's never even stepped into before. It was kind of hilarious to watch as Galinda addressed all around. “And this is the book place. There's a collection of rare books around here somewhere. And some medium rare as well.”

“He's looking for a book, sis. Not a steak.” Y/N said.

Fiyero chuckles. “Well, there's certainly many to choose from. What would you recommend, Y/N? A good adventure book? Perhaps something with a little bit of fun?”

“How about a book on the studies of why some people act brainless?” Y/N suggested.

“Tell me. What do you do for fun around here?” Fiyero ignored Y/N’s jab, and walked closer to the other male, smirking at him. Did this guy always have to smile at everything? “You ever been to the Ozdust Ballroom?”

“The Ozdust Ballroom? Are you insane?” Y/N asked.

Galinda gets in between them. “I mean, isn't that place somewhat illegal?” She looks around to make sure no one is listening before whispering. “And scandalocious?”

Fiyero nods. “Yeah, it is both of those things. Yeah. It's also not far from here, which is another plus.” Fiyero said as Boq, the Munchkin boy, trips and drops some of his books into the floor. Fiyero stifles a laugh as he looks down at him. “Whoa. You all right?”

Boq grunts as Y/N helps him up. “Yeah.”

“I'm Fiyero Tigelaar.” He looks at Y/N and winks. “Winkie Country.”

“Oh, Oz.” Y/N and Galinda both say for different reasons. Boq stood up. “Boq Woodsman.” He gets on a stack of books to be at the same height as Fiyero. “Of Munchkinland.” Galinda grabs Fiyero's arm and leads him away from Boq. Great. Excuse me. Good to know. Um, what were you saying again about the Ozdust and fun and you and me?”

“I was thinking of inviting you, and your brother to the Ozdust tonight.” Fiyero said.

“Unfortunately, it's against Shiz rules to go into town after dark. Sorry, Prince Twinkie.” Y/N said, but he didn't sound very sorry about it. Fiyero didn't seem to mind though. “I see that, once again, the responsibility to corrupt my fellow students…” He puts his arms around both Y/N and Galinda as she gasps. Y/N rolled his eyes. “...falls to me. Excuse me.” He grabs a book from a nearby girl, and he accidentally drops it to the floor. Y/N bends down to pick it up, but Fiyero puts a black riding boot on top of it. Y/N looks up as Fiyero shakes his head no.

“The trouble with schools is…” Fiyero began.

“Not a damn song.” Y/N whispered to himself. It seemed like everyone at this school could sing and dance like some sort of musical theater show you'd hear about in the Emerald city. Not in the Shiz library. “They always try to teach the wrong lesson.” Fiyero throws a book over his shoulders, and it lands with a thud. “Believe me, I've been kicked out of enough of them to know.”

Y/N believed that. Fiyero did seem like the type to cause so much mischief and chaos at the schools he previously attended, that they had no choice but to kick his ass out. “They want you to become less callow, less shallow. But I say, why invite stress in? Stop studying strife. And learn to live the unexamined life.” Fiyero easily charmed the librarian as he winked at Y/N, showing off. “Dancing through life. Skimming the surface Gliding where turf is smooth.” He gets on the table and in a very proactive pose starts to jumble around another student's head. Life's more painless for the brainless. Why think too hard, when it's so soothing? Dancing through life. No need to tough it. When you can slough it off as I do.”

The young Upland boy watched as Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country, start a whole musical number inside the library.

[dreamit2seeit]

○•°LOA success°•○

Just a bit of a motivation to put out there I guess?

I know many of you guys struggle with completely accepting the law. I've been there too, and I tend to "fall back" into negativity from time to time still. But every time I do, I always have to realise that it's all up to me, it's all up to what I believe in, and what kind of thoughts and believes I feed into myself.

So let this serve as a healthy reminder that you're in fact capable, that once you decide something to be true, it's true, and that's it. That's IT!!!

Overnight changes? Very demure. It's tea. And it's so simple, fast and real that you don't even realise it happened until it gets brought up in some way.

Yesterday I was organising my vision boards on Pinterest - adding new pictures, deleting some that I don't associate myself with anymore. Then I saw this picture of a public figure who I really admire recently, and I added it to my "Looks" folder. I just realised how pretty and inspiring I find her, and how she kind of looks like my ideal appearence in many ways. I don't know, let's call her Sharon. I searched and scrolled a bit more, finding more pictures of Sharon that I like, and added those pictures to the folder too.

And that's when the magic begins, it's very simple, really.

I was basically just looking at the pictures, telling myself how I look exactly like her, how she's basically me, we're twinning, etc etc...

I also did this very cutesy thing that works for me all the time, visualizing people I know telling me the same things.

And let me repeat: when you decide something to be real and true, it's REAL. AND. TRUE. I'm very lucky when it comes visualization, I can easily change my inner image of me or anything, and from that point on, I see it and think it like that, ignoring the 3D.

Literally that's all I did.

I wasn't even thinking about it today, I just thought to myself once in front of the mirror while throwing on some makeup how I look like Sharon. The 3D? I honestly don't know how it showed or how it shows now, because even if I see it, I only perceive the 4D, the true reality, that's what I feed to my mind.

A few hours later I was hanging out with friends in this cute little café, talking about everything. Again, I was not thinking about this "change" I decided to have the day before. It was there maybe in the back of my mind, showing up in the form of how I carry myself, but there were zero thoughts about it.

Then Chat GPT and it's features were brought up (exciting I know), and the TikTok trends with it, like the special bots that help with looksmaxing, finding your celebrity lookalike, etc etc...We were analysing one of my friend's features, how she looks kind of like this actress and that actress, then she looks at me dead in the eyes and says:

"Do you know who you look like? Like Sharon. I've been thinking about it"

Like... I was kind of speechless for a few seconds. She was one of the people I imagined saying this thing to me the day before. On the outside I was nonchalant about it, but I actually got really excited and happy. Then she confused my nonchalantness with denial, and kept trying to convince me about it. XDD She even involved our other friend who was also agreeing with her, and they went on with this casual discussion about how my features and the way I smile gives complete Sharon... I could ramble more about it, but you get what I'm trying to say here.

It's simple. It's simple and great and wow.

And once you touch into it you realise that it's very real, even if you had doubts before.

Well I hope this helped or motivated a few of you out there, at least that was my point with it.

If I can do it, there is literally no reason why you couldn't. You got this!! It was not complicated, not hard, not something out of my reach. You can get whatever you imagine.

Have a wonderful day, and don't forget to enjoy the journey!

You're capable, you're amazing, you're everything and more! <33

[nanamin-nah-nanamine]

The Dojo Gojo Casa House

Hi guys, here’s a gojo x reader that I started writing months ago. The title literally gripped me by my neck and wouldn’t let go so gaze upon this monstrosity >:3

Satoru never played fair. That was a fact of life. But he also never cheated. It was unnecessary when everything he tried came like second nature. He was athletic, he was smart, he could sing, and he could charm himself out of just about any situation he wasn’t supposed to be in. It would have been fine if he was humble. More down to earth like Nanami or Shoko. But he wasn’t. He didn’t even have the decency to pretend like the world didn’t come to a halt the day he was born. He was cocky. He was brash, and he was fucking annoying to make matters worse. He picked a target and he wore them down until they weren’t any fun to play with anymore. Once Nanami had left the jujutsu world in pursuit of college you wish you had gone with him because Satoru was insufferable. You were only a second grade, you weren’t terribly strong and you knew that, but Satoru just needed to remind you any chance he could get. He’s always been insufferable, for as long as you can remember, every memory you’ve had of him revolved around him teasing someone. It was something he was known for; yet he still managed to get under your skin.

This job was stressful, anyone could tell you that. It’s why Shoko smoked a pack a day, why Suguru defected, and why Nanami had left. It wasn’t for the faint of heart, yet you ended up staying; persuaded by some fluffed up speech on how much good you would be doing. It was hard to see the good when you ended each day exhausted and crying in Shoko’s office about how awful it was. Everyone had their vices, and yours was staying even though it made you sick. The tears weren’t too bad, you had always been on the more sensitive side and it was cathartic really. Shoko never made you feel bad and if she was annoyed by your daily visits she didn’t show it. Maybe she was just happy enough to see a sorcerer retain their humanity. The only person who seemed to even acknowledge it was Satoru, appearing at the worst times when your eyes were still red and puffy and he would tease you. It wasn’t cruel in hindsight because Satoru wasn’t cruel per say, but he was insensitive. Cooing and pouting dramatically at your teary eyes, patting your head in a way so condescending you would have swung on him if infinity wasn’t in the way. You were pissed, your hands shaking and your face hot. His taunting words and sardonic laughter only seemed to bring a fresh set of tears to your eyes and you wanted to disappear. You were never getting out of this, where Satoru perceived weakness, he saw an opportunity to have his fun.

You were fucked.

“Cute,” he laughed, squishing your cheeks together; only laughing harder when you batted at his hands.

That was three years ago. Things have changed, the jujutsu world was busier than ever with the emergence of Sukuna’s vessel, even leading Nanami out of hiding and back to his death sentence. You’ve changed, spending the last two of these years teaching at the Kyoto school; only having been transferred back over to take over the second years while Satoru dealt with the Itadori case. Everyone seemed to mellow out, even Satoru. Being a teacher seems to have finally jump-started the part of his frontal lobe that produced empathy. He was calmer, almost nicer, in a way. He didn’t wear white bandages anymore, instead swapping them out for a black blindfold. It was nice. Things felt nice and almost complete in a way they haven’t for a very long time. You still chat with Shoko, but now you have Nanami to hang out with again; catching up on some four odd years and how you’ve both been doing.

Satoru still seemed to tail you but in a very different way. He was busier now, still taking on missions and teaching his classes, but wherever you were he didn’t seem to be far behind. Especially if Nanami was there.

“My two favorite Kouhai!” You hear yelled from down the hall. You groan letting your head slump against the table and Nanami sighs following suit, today was definitely not the day. Doing shots and getting ramen at 3 am seemed like a great idea: but god was hindsight twenty-twenty. Your head was pounding.

It didn’t take long for him to burst into the teacher’s lounge, only pausing when he saw the two of you face down. You heard it, if only for a second; but it made your blood run cold. That fucking laughter. You feel your stomach churn and you let out a shuddery breath, squeezing your eyes shut. You were not going to cry. You had been working on it these last few years. Challenging yourself, trying to find different outlets; but when it came to Satoru nobody could ever seem to win. You feel the lump in your throat and a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh?” His voice intones, sounding delighted. “Thought some time away would do you good, didn’t know you were still a crybaby.” You could hear him smirking.

“Gojo, I don’t think that comment is very appropriate.” Nanami says, his voice gravelly and warning.

“Lighten up,” Satoru chuckles, “I’m just teasing her.”

“You’re as incorrigible as I remember,” Nanami sighs, pulling his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. “They let you teach the youth?”

“Nanamin,” he coos, “Bold of you to assume I need permission to do anything.”

Scratch that, nothing has changed. He was just as annoying as he was in high school, and he’ll continue to be annoying until something strong enough crawls out of hell to kill him.

“Woah, calm down sweetheart,” he says, pulling his hand off of you, “I can feel you spiking, you wanna fight me or something?”

“Don’t,” Nanami warns, giving you a tired glare. He’s played this game before and he knows how it ends.

You did. You absolutely did. Even if it meant getting your ass blasted halfway across the dojo, if you could land even one punch you’d be satisfied. You lift your head up and turn to glare at him, ignoring the inertia of your hangover. Your eyes were watering in rage, and you could feel your heart racing and your cursed energy practically boiling below the surface.

His lips part a bit before they curl in into a smirk.

“Oh. You do wanna fight me.” He says. He bends down to sit on his haunches, even going as far to lift the blindfold up so you’re truly eye to eye.

“That’s cute,” he says, smiling in a way that seems dangerous. “You sure you’re not gonna cry if I hit you?”

“Go to hell.” You spit, you’re seething, this wasn’t good. He looks you over once, then twice, before laughing. That same laugh that made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t describe. He reaches a hand forward, cold against your cheek wiping one of your tears.

“Oh sweetheart,” he whispers, rubbing the tear between his fingers. “You wouldn’t last a second. You’re weak.”

You snap. You’re bringing a hand forward to slap him but it’s grabbed in the blink of an eye, shoved back against your chest with a force that pushes the table. You could see Nanami out of the corner of your eye reaching for the nata, but he stops, because Satoru is laughing again.

“Really cute,” he laughs, “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.” He lets go of your hand and stands up stretching. “This was fun, I've gotta run though; the students should be done with their laps right about now. If you really wanna try that again, meet me in the training room after school.”

He’s just about out of the room before he shoots an eerie glance at Nanami. “And if you come, come alone.”

“What…the fuck was that?” You whisper, dropping your head into your hands. The adrenaline coursing through your body made you feel almost nauseous. You heard Nanami sigh and feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Is he gonna—”

“He wants to sleep with you.” He says bluntly.

What.

“What?” You say, almost ready to flip the table because nothing makes sense today. “He wants to beat my ass!”

“Beat? No.” He says, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “But as someone who was subjected to the boys dormitory, I am painfully aware of how Gojo-san flirts, it seems like nothing about him has changed.”

“What are you saying?” You say.

“I’m saying,” he says, fully sitting up, “He used to taunt Geto-san in a very similar way, he’s got a very… roundabout way of flirting. As juvenile as it is, this is him flirting. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.”

“You mean this is a pattern for him?” You groan.

“Once again, you weren’t subjected to the boys dormitory,” he says and shivers a bit. “Those fights in the courtyard took very interesting… turns.”

“He’s going to kill me,” you groan, rubbing your face.

“You’re going?” He asks, raising a brow. You can feel your cheeks heat up and you shake your head.

“I-I never said that!”

“You implied it.”

“Did not.”

“You did.”

“I did not!”

———————-

The day seemed to drag on as you waited for the clock to strike three. Maybe if you had been better distracted it would have flown by faster, but Satoru seemed to want you fired up long before your little meeting. He took your fucking students. Walked right into the classroom, and decided today was the day he wanted to take them on a day trip to Korea. The bastard didn’t even have the decency to ask if you wanted to go. Just waltzing in like he owned the place and poofing away with your kids. It makes your blood boil even hotter, because he knows the second years have state tests coming up soon. You couldn’t even remember the last time one of them has scored above a fifty, the highest score was Panda, and you couldn’t even document his work without looking insane.

So here you were, in the lounge with Ijichi going over reports because you weren’t salaried yet and you’d rather die than let Satoru keep you from a full day's pay. The poor man was practically shaking next to you, hoping you didn’t snap and test out your black flash on him. He wasn’t too far off either, you were wired, the knots in your stomach growing tighter each time you replayed the events of the day. You wouldn’t hurt him, intentionally; but you were seconds away from asking Yaga for a cursed corpse to blow off some steam.

The problem is, it wouldn’t even be satisfying. You only had one target in mind, and he was frolicking around doing God knows what in Korea. The clock struck three, and Satoru still hadn’t returned.

He didn’t show until almost six, you had already trained and warmed up; even going as far as sparring with Nanami to prepare yourself. You now owed him dinner and a bottle of brandy, but you felt ready.

Your blood was pumping and you felt alive.

Satoru waltzed in just like he had to your classroom, and you saw blue; all you could see was blue. His cursed energy illuminated the room which set to piss you off even further. There was no urgency in his steps, no sense of duty; he walked in like he was perusing the convenience store.

“Sorry,” he snickers, raising his hand in greeting. “Got a little carried away, forgive me?” A condescending pout plastered on his lips. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“You’re sorry?” You breathe in disbelief.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” He says, stripping off his jacket revealing a shirt that had no business being so tight.

“You’re so fucking--” you say, cutting yourself off with a groan. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You don’t just leave people waiting--”

“You came alone,” he says, cutting you off. “Didn’t bring your bodyguard?”

“Bodyguard? What the fuck are you talking abou—”

“Please,” he scoffs, “Like Nanami-kun doesn’t trail you like a dog?”

“Oh so he’s the one trailing me?”you scoff. “Satoru, I can barely get away from you.”

He takes a step closer, his breath tickling your neck. “Yeah? So you’ve noticed, can’t get enough of you—”

“Oh give it a rest”You groan, taking a step back. “Flirt with the wall, are we gonna fight or what?”

He chuckles, taking a step forward. “You still wanna fight?”

“What else would I come here for?”you scoff, “You said if I was still up for it we would, so let’s fight”

“Let’s fight…”he chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright”

He takes a step forward, you can feel the cursed energy radiating off of him barely contained.

“I’ll raise you something better, sweetheart” he continues, flashing a pointed grin. “I’ll take this” he says, snapping his fingers and the aura of the room shifted; feeling lighter. “Off.” He was closer now, the gap between you two slim to nothing, you could feel his breath he was so close. Was it…? You reached forward tentatively and recoiled when you actually touched skin.

It was.

Infinity was off. He smirked, giving you a nod. “And, I’ll even let you strike first. I heard from a little birdie that you’re close contact”

“I don’t need your pity” you scoff, raising your hands. “Don’t hold back”

“Oh sweetheart,”he laughs. In the blink of an eye he was surging forward and your legs were kicked from underneath you. Before you could hit the ground he was right there to catch you.

“You won’t make it out alive if I actually fought you” he says, there was another surge and you were thumping your head against the mat while he stood over you, extending a hand. “and we need this pretty head attached that pretty body…y’know, in case we need backup”

“You’re such a bastard!—“you exclaim and yelp when he phases in front of you again, grabbing your hands and pinning them. This wasn’t fair, he was too fucking fast you could barely see him; trying to track him with your eyes made you sick.

“Fight with your hands, sweetheart”he goads, appearing behind you and pushing you to the floor, his foot on the small of your back. “Not your mouth”

Another flash of cursed energy and he’s crouched down in front of you, holding out his hand again. “Awww, already tired?”

You don’t take his hand instead swerving to kick his ankles, hoping that would take him down. He falters a bit to your elation, but you weren’t fast enough for the kill. You should’ve brought a cursed weapon, what the fuck were you thinking? The moment you’re on your feet you’re swept off of them again.

You’re panting, unable to even strike and spending most of your time on the defense avoiding his blows. He’s close again, right against your ear.

“Still want me to play fai-”

You crack your fist back instinctively, surprised when it actually makes contact with his jaw. Your heart was pounding in your ears, the adrenaline making your body tremble. You could barely breathe, every ounce of your being going into not ending up thrown across the room.

“Hah”he says, rubbing his jaw. “Cute. You call that little love tap a punch?”

“Stop calling me cute”You spit out through gritted teeth, gripping his arm and digging your nails in causing him to wince. If you couldn’t land another hit you surely weren’t going to let go.

“Get your fuckin claws out of me”he grunts, gripping your other arm so you’re both at a standstill.

“Stop calling me cute then,”you repeat, digging your nails in deeper; you’d break skin if you kept going, you kind of wanted to.

“Ah”he grunts, the pain turning into laughter. “Can’t I call it how I see it, baby?”

He grips your arm tighter to pull you closer. “So fucking cute”he says, his breath against your cheek. “The way you squirm…god”

“I fucking hate you”you seethe, trying to pull your arm away. His hands were so cold, but they felt nice against your skin.

“Do you?”he asks, “you fucking hate me?”he purrs, pulling you even closer. Your heart was beating out of your chest, the adrenaline churning in your stomach and making your knees weak.

“Yeah”you breathe. He pulls up his blindfold revealing those bright blue eyes that have your heart beating even faster.

“Then show me how much you hate me”he says, one last tug pulling you flush against his chest. You could feel his heart beating, and you couldn’t pinpoint why it felt surreal. Satoru was untouchable in a way that had him seen as less than human. To confirm he did in fact have a heartbeat throws your world on its axis again. The rhythmic thumping against his chest lulled you into a trance.

“Come on”he says again, his breath fanning over your head. “If you hate me so much then show me”

“Maybe you can’t?”he muses. “What is it? Tell me, I’m listening”

“I hate you”you repeat, your voice taking on a shaky tone.

“Aw baby”he coos, letting go of your arm to squish your cheeks. “This doesn’t feel like hate, now does it? You’re all over me”

“Let go of me!”you grunt, swinging blindly. Your heart was thumping rapidly and you could hardly breathe.

“Do you really want me to?”he asks, his touch light now, ready to back off if you gave him the word. And you couldn’t.

Time paused.

Did you really want him to?

Your breathing falters and your stomach churns as his lips turn up in a feral grin, his canines sharper than any person’s should be. You wanted to feel them against your throat. You could feel his cursed energy buzzing against your skin, it felt electric. His grip softened a bit and his eyes took on a lighter gaze.

“Really”he says, his voice low and serious in a way you’ve never heard. “Tell me to stop and I will. It’s all your call.”

Did you want him to stop?

One look in his eyes and you knew things would never be the same.

Thanks for reading the inner workings of my mind with this fucker. It’s not my best or even good but it’s honest work🥹

If you want a pt.2 with the actual smut lmk but it might take me seven to eight business months to finish.

[francisofthespook]

Daryl SFW Alphabet !!

I'm leaving for a roadtrip tomorrow and idk how active I'll be so here's a little something I wrote today. Writing this def gave me some good ideas for some oneshots... :)

Words: 3,291 (including the prompts)

Warnings: None really, mostly fluff/ one teeny tiny little mention of suggestive content but it's literally like half a sentence/maybe some allusions to violence

Template from: https://the-coldest-goodbye.tumblr.com/sfw-template (@the-coldest-goodbye )

((I only proofread this once so I may go back in and edit it if I find any mistakes))

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

At first, Daryl, would be super affectionate, but only in private. He might interlock a pinky with you while you’re all around the campfire at the quarry and the farm, but when no one else is around he would be so mushy. Maybe later on, around the time they get to Alexandria and they begin to feel some safety and stability, he would be a bit more affectionate in public. He would place his hand on the small of your back and stand close to you while you talk to the Alexandrians to subtly let them know you were taken, and maybe he would kiss your temple before he or you went out on a run without the other.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Daryl would be your best friend at first. He would always find a way to make you laugh, even if he wasn't really trying to. He would bring you little things he finds while he's out hunting like pretty flowers and rabbit's feet for good luck. He would always stick up for you when the group makes you feel like your suggestions are stupid. There would be a slight shift pretty soon into the friendship though where he realizes that he wants something more. He wouldn't say anything, he would wait for you to make the first move, or at least until he was pretty positive you felt the same way. He wouldn’t want to risk ruining your friendship if you didn't feel the same way. He would happily be your friend for the rest of your lives if that's all you could give him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Y E S! Daryl loves cuddles, there is nothing that makes him feel more loved than at the end of the day, regardless where you are, when you guys lay down and you curl up into his arms. He would usually stay awake for a little longer than you to make sure that it was safe…( totally not because he loves watching how your face relaxes when you finally fall asleep…) (and definitely not because your little snores warm his heart so much…) (and for sure not because he is enamored by the cryptic mumbling you do in your sleep, always trying to stay as still and quiet as possible so he can try and decipher what you're saying…)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

There is nothing Daryl wants more than to be able to settle down with you. But given the state of the world, it wouldn't be easy for a while. Sometimes at night, before you get to Alexandria, he would almost tear up watching you fold your clothes and arrange your shared tent, longing for some normalcy in this world so that he can just enjoy his life with you instead of having to fight for it every day.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Early on in your relationship, Daryl might try to leave you a few times. Not because he has fallen out of love, but because he’s worried you're too good for him. He thinks so little of himself and that you deserve better than him. Sometimes just a small thing can trigger this thinking and he will go off into the woods for a while to try and work through his thoughts. But you always find him and tell him that you don’t want anyone else, only him. Once he finally feels comfortable enough in the relationship, there is absolutely nothing that can tear you apart. The only thing that would end the relationship, is if one of you dies.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Daryl had never envisioned himself settling down and getting married. But when you guys get together, he is so overwhelmed by his love for you that he kinda starts to want that. Of course, it isn't really a possibility now, but he would find you a ring one day while out on a run and bring it back to you. He would walk you down to the edge of the prison yard where no one can see you and lay with you in the grass for a while before he rolls over and gently grabs your wrist, lifting it up and slipping the ring onto your finger. “Daryl Dixon, are you proposing to me?” you would say in a smug tone. “Dun need a ring to know I’m yers, but thought it would look pretty on ya” You wouldn't say much after that, not wanting to ruin the moment. This world was filled with so many uncertainties that it was scary to get so close to someone. But at the same time, the ring would become a symbol to you of what you were fighting for, a world where you could just be safe and have a happy life with your partner.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Typically, Daryl is the biggest softie around you, ‘no’ is not a word in his vocabulary when it comes to you. He would be so careful with you that it almost sometimes frustrated you. But when it came to your safety, he would be a bit more firm, blatantly telling you ‘no’ when you ask to come on a riskier run. He would not take any chances, so sometimes he was a bit more rough when he really had to put his foot down. But you knew that he was only like that because he cared so much so it doesn’t really bother you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Being hugged by Daryl would be one of your favorite things in the world. He would engulf your entire body like a warm blanket and hold you firmly close to him. He would always put one arm around your back, the other holding your head while he leaned his own into your shoulder. Sometimes he would gently rub your back in soothing circles while he embraced you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear when no one else was around.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It would probably be a while before Daryl told you he loved you, but he would have known it for a long time before actually saying it. He would probably wait for you to say it first, not wanting to scare you off by making things more serious. As much as he would want to make a big deal about it, his anxiety would get the best of it and he would probably say it in passing one day, without bringing too much attention to it. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Only God himself could save someone from the wrath of a jealous Daryl. It was never something that he really had to deal with while you guys were on the road, maybe a few times here and there, but let's just say that the guys you ran into who made remarks won't ever make them again. When you get to Alexandria, he would have to reel in his rage a bit more, given these were people you would have to live with. But there would definitely be a few guys who suffered a fist to the face when they looked at you a certain way. The residents of Alexandria picked up pretty quickly that you were off-limits.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Daryl would kiss you alllll the time. He would kiss your head a lot since he’s much taller than you and there wasn't much privacy in the early days. You guys would never get into anything too passionate in public obviously, but behind closed doors, it was like he was the thirstiest man alive and you were the last drop of water left on earth. Before he would leave for a run he would hold the sides of your head with both hands and press a long kiss into your forehead before giving you a small peck on the lips. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Children make Daryl a little uncomfortable at first. He never really knew how to act around them and what not to say. But over time he would grow very fond of Judith and RJ. When you guys get to the Commonwealth, you would basically adopt them. He would treat them like his own, playing with them when he had time off and reading them books in the evening. He wouldn’t want kids of his own, which was fine because you wouldn't either, but he would be more than happy being the appointed guardian of Rick's kids for the time being.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Much to your dismay, Daryl was a morning person. In Alexandria and the Commonwealth, he would get up early in the mornings and make you something to eat while you slept a little while longer. He would quietly slip into your room and gently wake you up before handing you the plate of whatever he threw together. You guys would just sit in bed for a bit while you ate and talk about what you had to do for the day. Usually, he would eventually have to go do some sort of work, so he would tuck you back in and give you a kiss on the forehead before heading out and letting you catch a few extra hours of rest.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

In the evenings, you would cuddle up close to each other while you would whisper stories from your childhood. Over time, this nightly routine would become an exchange of stories, and he would share a few short memories from his own childhood. When you both eventually either ran out of stories or simply began to forget them, you would both talk about the future. What your imaginary house would look like, and how many cats you would adopt. When you had those talks, he would end them by leaning close to your ear and whispering “one day”, before giving you a kiss and drifting off to sleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Figuring out Daryl would be like trying to put together a puzzle with pieces you find hidden around a maze. Every once in a while he would drop a little tidbit about himself and you would memorize it and store it away, placing another piece in the slowly growing puzzle until you eventually begin to see the picture. Each time you would reference something he had told you before, or picked up something for him on a run that reminded you of a story he told you, he would fall deeper and deeper in love. It was the little things that meant the most to him, he was never one for grand gestures.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

To this day, the group still cannot comprehend how well he’s able to keep his patience with you. There were more than a few times that you made dumb mistakes, or got hurt, but he rarely broke. Sometimes, he would crack just a tiny bit when you did something that could've gotten you injured, but he would take a deep breath to calm himself down before apologizing and reminding you that he's not upset, he just doesn't want you to get hurt. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You would begin to think that Daryl knows you better than you know yourself. Not only did he remember every single thing you ever told him, no matter how big or small, but he also became an expert in analyzing your every move. He could spot your emotions sometimes before you even understood what you were feeling, always knowing how to approach you and talk to you based on your mood and expressions. You wouldn’t realize it at first, but when he begins to bring you little things like candy you mentioned once that you used to like, or your favorite color sweater, you knew he was in deep. No one had ever made you feel more loved or more seen than he does.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He would probably just enjoy all the quiet moments you were able to have together. Maybe his favorite would be the day you both went out to an empty field near Alexandria, devoid of walkers and had a picnic in the grass. You laid around for a while, watching the clouds pass by before you realized that he was watching you and not the sky. “What?” You stifled a laugh and asked him. “Nuthin’. You're just so beautiful” You blushed a deep red and that only made him grow more enamored. He wasn't able to help himself, he leaned over and kissed you. He knew it was risky, but his need for you overtook him and you made lazy love in the field.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

In his mind, Daryl’s number one job is keeping you safe. Yes of course, he cared greatly about the group’s safety, but you were always top priority. Hell hath no fury like Daryl when he’s coming for someone who hurt you, on the rare occasion that they got through him. He would die for you in an instant, no hesitation. It would worry you, how much he risked his own life to keep yours safe, but you knew that it was a moot point. There was nothing you could say or do to convince him to back down. He would protect you until he was no longer breathing.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Daryl has never really been in a relationship before, so he doesn't know what to do. He's constantly asking Carol for ideas of gifts, dates, and small kindnesses he can do for you to show how much he loves you. She would tell him that he just needs to follow his heart and do whatever feels right, not try to force it. On the rare occasion that you had the time and safety, he would plan little dates. Taking you out to a spot that he had cleared the day before while telling everyone else you were going on a run. He would give you little handmade bracelets, trinkets he found while he was out, and cook for you as often as he could. But would feel like no actions could ever portray how much he loves you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

You would be frustrated by how quick he would be to defend your honor. Even when someone would say something so small and insignificant, if Daryl thought it was an insult, fists would begin flying. But secretly, you loved how defensive he was of you. And you had to admit, it was pretty funny seeing Spencer whimper and scurry away from Daryl whenever they locked eyes, it's a shame his nose never did heal right.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Daryl doesn't care at all how he looks, unless he thinks that you don't like something. He would let you cut his hair when it got too long, and trim his beard when it got unruly, but you thought he was perfect just the way he is so he was content with himself. He would be a little insecure about his scars when you guys first get together, but it wouldn't take too long for him to feel comfortable enough with you to take off his shirt.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

When Daryl was without you, it was like a piece of his heart was missing. He would constantly be on edge and anxious to get back to you. He had fallen so hard, it would be actually impossible for him to exist without you anymore. Runs were hard, especially when he would be gone for a week or more, but he would keep a little polaroid photo of you in his vest pocket to try and fill a tiniest bit of the void that you left. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Daryl would write you notes. Whether it be a sticky note on your pillow in the morning when you woke up telling you that he had run to Ricks and would be back soon, or a note he slipped into your backpack before you left for a run telling you to be safe, and that he would miss you and couldn't wait for you to get back. When he is working on the bridge, he sends you letters by ‘mail’, making whoever is running back and forth to Alexandria drop it off on your porch. These letters would be longer, detailing what all they had done that day and how much he missed you. You would write letters back to him and every time he saw the courier coming up on the camp, he would rush over and grab your letter before retreating back into his tent to read it. He keeps all of them in a small box hidden under his bed, and sometimes when he can't get to sleep at night, he’ll read them for a while until he's able to drift off.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Daryl wouldn’t like it when you wore makeup. Sometimes you would find an old tube of concealer or eyeshadow while you’re out and you would take it home and wear it for a bit. He didn't necessarily think it looked bad but he thought you were beautiful just the way you were, so he would tell you that you didn’t need it and sometimes try to hide it so you can't use it again. Although, he did love it when you got wine drunk and put on your reddest lipstick and gave him kisses all over his face and chest while giggling and telling him how much you love him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Daryl is such a blanket hog. When he first falls asleep he cuddles up next to you and holds you close, but as the night goes on he begins to slightly toss and turn, and usually he ends up taking the covers with him. It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night to a chill breeze and see Daryl on the other end of the bed with the covers half hanging off his side, half wrapped around him like a cocoon. He would always feel bad when he woke up and saw you were uncovered, so eventually, he would find an extra large blanket that covered you both, no matter how much he moved around.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Not a Creature Was Stirring

Declan O’Hara x Reader

Words: 2677

Summary: Christmas at the Priory gets more complicated with Maud can’t make it back from London. As Declan’s girlfriend, you try to step in to still make it a perfect holiday for him and his kids. Needless to say, things don’t exactly go according to plan. 

Notes: With my love for Aidan Turner, you guys had to know Declan would be joining my list of stories eventually! I love him so much and I’m happy to have him as the subject of my Christmas imagine this year. I hope you all have a happy holidays, whatever you celebrate and a wonderful new year! (and if you recognized the Poldark quote I totally stole, no you didn't)

-

T’was two weeks before Christmas and all through the Priory, everyone buzzed with holiday spirit. Patrick and Caitlin were back from school, Taggie was busy making hors d’oeuvres for all of the holiday parties she’d been hired to cater and you were enjoying a book by the fireplace. The only one who seemed unable to enjoy the season was Declan. He stomped about, going through receipts and orders and cards. His brows furrowed and his mustache curved with the harshness of his frown. 

“I can’t make sense of any of this,” he huffed. “Everything from the last ridiculous party she planned and I still don’t know what to do.”

You set your book aside. Even though Declan and Maud were no longer together, you knew her approval still meant a lot to him. That, and now that he was the face of Corinium, he was expected to be a bit of a socialite as well. 

“Why doesn’t she plan it herself?” You asked. 

He hated getting into the details of these things. As long as there were good drinks and decent music, he seemed happy. 

He ran a hand through his dark curls and collapsed onto the sofa beside you. 

“Because she won’t get here until Christmas Eve.” Declan blew out a long, tired breath. “And the kids have been hounding me about having something here for weeks. I think they’re too cooped up. Tired of the house. Tired of me.”

Caitlin had complained more than once about her ongoing boredom. 

You brought your legs up, draping them over his lap as you turned to face him. His hand found your calf, rubbing circles to soothe both you and himself. 

“Why don’t you let me do it?”

“Do what?”

You flicked his arm. “The planning, silly.” 

“You want to plan Maud’s party?” He scoffed. 

“Sure,” you shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

Declan grinned, snickering.

“What?” You asked. 

He just shook his head and kissed your cheek, pulling you closer as he stared into the fire. 

-

He’d tried to warn you. From the moment you volunteered to take over, Declan had told you it was not a task for the faint of heart. Especially since you were convinced the party had to be as extravagant and special as Maud’s would be. He wanted to tell you there was nothing to prove. That you didn’t need to dazzle everybody and put on some grand show. But you seemed excited to help, so he didn’t say anything. Besides, it was nice to focus on his work rather than invitations to people he’d rather not have to see more than he already did. 

Taggie knocked on the door of his office, apron covered with flour. “Have you seen Y/N?”

Declan glanced up from his papers. Bills he couldn’t pay and assignments he didn’t want. 

“She isn’t here?”

Taggie shook her head. “I was going to ask what she wanted me to make for the party.”

They looked at each other for a while until Declan shrugged.

“I have no idea,” he said. “She hasn’t told me anything.” 

“You mean you aren’t helping?” 

Declan scoffed. “I haven’t exactly had time, Taggie.” He put the papers aside. “And she won’t let me.”

“She won’t let you?”

“No. She won’t let me.”

She sighed. “Reminds me of me.” 

Taggie muttered, while it was nice not to be in charge for one, she felt a twinge of guilt thinking of you trying to throw everything together on your own. 

“If you find her, tell her I want to talk to her,” Declan said. 

Taggie snorted. “Right. Talk.”

“Your sister is rubbing off on you,” Declan groaned. "Run off."

Taggie left snickering. 

Declan tried to focus back on his work, but couldn’t. Maybe Taggie was right. Was he expecting too much of you? He wasn’t exactly known for his observation skills when the subject wasn’t an official or celebrity he wanted to tear apart. He didn’t want a whole fuss of a party anyway and now he was letting you bend over backwards to make it happen. He sighed, running a hand down his face. It was too late, of course. Declan knew if he said anything, you would assume you’d done something wrong. 

Your current situation did little to help. Having spent the last two hours haggling over second-hand decorations, you still didn’t have enough for both the entry hall and the dining room, not to mention other areas of the house. Plus, you’d need to repaint most of the wooden tree decorations, patch up the banners, and glue the ceramic snowman back together. The rest was a haphazard collection of string lights, ornaments, and brass angels you bartered for a steal. For you, it was enough. But for the O’Hara’s? For Declan? 

It was hard not to feel cast into a shadow when his ex was who she was. 

“Why couldn’t Maud be a minimalist?” You groaned. Maybe the girls could help you dig up some more decor from storage. Surely they had a snow or two tucked away somewhere. 

Stars… 

Now that gave you an idea. 

-

12 hours. That’s all the time you had left to prep the best Christmas party Declan’s family could have.

No pressure, right?

With the decorations set- you nearly broke your neck putting them up- now all you needed to do was make enough food for all the people you invited. Taggie had offered to help, but you insisted she spend Christmas Eve about town with her siblings. Of course, this left you standing in front of a dozen empty pans and no idea how to fill them. 

“How does she do this?” You muttered to yourself, looking over the recipe for the thousandth time. Mince pies, cranberry tarts, figgy pudding… it all could have been delivered, but making it yourself was cheaper. You knew money was tight, not that Declan would ever admit it. So it would be the best- and most affordable- Christmas party. 

Declan walked into the kitchen just as you were putting the first round of mini pies in the oven. 

“Maud called,” he sighed. He smoothed his wild curls only for them to pop out again. “She can’t make it.”

You almost dropped the pudding. “What?” 

“She can’t come home for Christmas.” He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but you heard it all the same. “Apparently there’s a big party with lots of directors who might cast her, so she’s staying in London.”

“Oh.” You turned away so he wouldn’t see your face fall. It was silly, really, to be upset. But you hadn’t realized how much you wanted to impress her until now. 

“I’m sorry, love.” Declan came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know how much work you’ve put into all this.”

Secretly, a small part of him was relieved, though it was a shame the kids wouldn’t see their mother on Christmas. 

Your back stiffened against his chest. 

“This is all the more reason to have this magnificent party,” you said, shrugging him away so you could get back to work. “It’ll be good for Patrick and the girls.”

Declan stood to the side, watching fierce determination overtake your features. 

He exhaled, surrendering. “Alright, love.”

-

The kitchen smelled like smoke and blackened fruit. Coughing, you pulled the tray of unsalvageable tarts from the oven and set them aside. You’d been so busy finishing up the decorations that you’d forgotten about them entirely. You opened the window despite the chill to let out some of the black clouds and godawful odor. 

Just half an hour before guests would start arriving and you’d just ruined half of the desserts. Pouring yourself a glass of whatever was closest, you just hoped they’d be content with free liquor after dinner. Maybe they’d get too drunk to care. 

“Are you setting fire to the entire neighborhood, because if so, at least spare my dogs.” A familiar snark sounded from behind you.

“Rupert? What are you doing here this early?” You gasped, wiping your hands on your apron. “Declan hasn’t had enough whiskey to tolerate you yet.”

“Then you should have invited more people,” he teased. Rupert entered the kitchen, leaning on the counter. “Why don’t you have Taggie help you? She’s perfect at this.” The admiration in his voice was hard to miss, but you ignored it.

“Because she deserves to spend Christmas with her family, not stuck in here with me.”

He raised a finger to point out you counted as family, but you interrupted. 

“And what do you mean, invite more people?” You put your hands on your hips. “I invited half of the Cotswolds.” 

Rupert winced. “Yes, well, that explains this then.” He pulled something from his jacket pocket. A stack of filthy, water-stained envelopes. “I didn’t find them til this morning. Postman must have dropped them in the garden when he got chased off by the dogs.” He handed the ruined invitations over. 

You stared at them, a lump forming in your throat.

“You mean… no one is coming?”

“I’m afraid not, darling.” He plucked a not-charred tart from the tray and popped it in his mouth. “But isn’t this better. A more intimate gathering with your mustachioed man?”

You shook your head, running your hand through your hair, breathing starting to pick up.

“Maud is staying in London,” you blurted. “So the family is without their mother for Christmas and I thought I could-”

“Replace her by throwing some ridiculous party?” He chuckled. His face fell, however, when he saw your lip quiver. “Darling, you know no one expects you to be Maud, don’t you?”

You looked away. 

“Nobody wants that.” He stepped forward. “Y/N, I’m sure they don’t. I’m a little relieved she’s not here, to be honest. She was always a bit much.” 

Shaking fingers struggled to untie your apron. You tossed it aside. 

“I have to go.” You hurried for the door, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter. 

“Y/N-” He started. 

The door slammed shut behind you. 

Rupert watched you go, sighed, and stole another tart. 

-

As the O’Haras piled into the main hall, Caitlin pinched Taggie’s arm, spotting the Minister of Sport coming out of the kitchen. 

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she whispered excitedly, earning a stern glance from their father. 

Taggie gulped. “Neither did I.”

Both watched their father put on a tight smile and approach the other man. 

“Rupert.”

“Declan.” Rupert’s smile was genuine, if not a bit arrogant. “I’m afraid I’ve been the bearer of bad news to your lovely Y/N,” he said. “All her invitations were lost to my flower bushes, left undelivered.”

“So there’s no one coming?” Patrick frowned. He’d hoped to meet some of his father’s good-looking TV hostess coworkers. 

“First mummy, now the whole town. Whatever will we do?” Caitlin said, eying Taggie and scooching her forward. When that didn’t work, she poked her brother. “Patrick scared them off with his terrible poetry.”

Patrick rustled her hair, making her squeak in protest. 

Declan ignored them. He ran a hand down his face and looked around at all you’d set up. You hadn’t even gotten to turn the lights on. 

“She seemed rather upset,” Rupert said, noticing Declan’s concern. “Ran off into the night. Very dramatic.” He leaned forward. “Perhaps you should go find her, hm?” He gave him a knowing look. 

Declan’s heart sank. He knew this wasn’t about the party. Not really. He just wished he’d realized it sooner. And before Rupert Campell-Black.

Starting for the door, he stopped, grabbing Rupert’s arm. 

“Don’t-” He narrowed his eyes, “-touch anything.”

He hurried off.

Rupert turned to the remaining O’Haras. 

“So,” he clapped his hands together. “Who knows where Declan keeps his best scotch?” 

-

He found you sitting on a snowy stump at the edge of the property. Declan watched the deep, shimmering green fabric of your dress sparkle in the moonlight, shifting as you lifted the bottle to your lips. You didn’t seem to see him approaching, eyes trained at the stars. 

“You look-” He sat beside you and kissed your cheek, “beautiful.”

“I don’t feel beautiful,” you muttered, taking another swig. The wine stained your lips a reddish purple but you didn’t care. Nobody would see it anyway. “I failed, Declan.”

“You didn’t fail.”

You scoffed. “The dessert is burnt, the decorations are literally hanging by a thread, and- oh yeah- none of it matters because no one is coming.” You raised your arm for another drink, but Declan grabbed the bottle, bringing it to his lips instead. 

Despite your efforts, your lip trembled. 

“I just wanted your family to have the perfect Christmas,” you said. 

“Is that what you think I care about?” He asked. “The extravagant party? The guests lined up down the pather?” Declan took your hands in his, trying to warm them from the chill. “Y/N, you’ve gotten me to look forward to a holiday for the first time in ages.” He brought your hands up for a lingering kiss. “Just by being you.” 

Your shaking stopped, tears chased away by his soft smile. You snatched the bottle back.

“Flattering will hardly make me feel better, Mr. O’Hara,” you teased. 

He raised a brown and leaned forward. 

“Does this?” He kissed your lips. “Or this?” Your jaw. “Or maybe…” The spot behind your ear. 

“Declan,” you breathed. 

He kept his lips by your ear, whispering. “You don’t have to be any more than you are, to be enough for me.”

Now, your tears returned for a different reason. Throwing your arms around him, you crashed your lips into his, forgetting what you’d been so upset about. Your hands found his hair, tangling those perfect black curls around your fingers. He reached one hand around you to hold you closer while the other rested on your thigh, creeping ever upwards. 

“If nobody is coming, can we start to eat?” Patrick called out over the lawn, making you jolt apart. 

You bit back a laugh, Declan’s face turning pink. “Go ahead!”

“Little bastard couldn’t wait ten more minutes?” Your frustrated boyfriend whined. 

“Ten minutes?” You stood, holding out your hand to help him. 

Declan pinched your upper thigh and scooped you up, both actions eliciting a squeal from your lips as he carried you back. 

-

“Ready?”

“Yes!” They all cheered, impatient.

You giggled, holding the switch captive in your hand. “You don’t look ready.”

“Get on with it, Y/N,” Caitlin whined, “turn them on!”

A chorus of pleas joined her. Declan just laughed, giving you a wide grin.

“You heard them,” he said.

“Alright, alright.”

You flipped the switch. All at once, the main hall lit up, and not just around the tree. Lights strung up above their heads created a canopy of color. Rupert turned on the speakers, filling the space with music. Exclamations of awe and excitement sounded all around you.

“Come on,” Caitlin said, dragging her siblings out to dance with her. Taggie glanced at Rupert, blush flooding her cheeks. He simply motioned for her to go on and dance.

Declan grabbed your hand.

“It’s perfect.” He kissed you deeply, making your knees weak as though he held you up in his embrace.

Caitlin made a teasing sound of disgust, but Taggie couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t think she’d ever seen her father so happy.

Rupert leaned over to you as he strutted to join the others. 

“Told you so,” he whispered. You reached to smack him, but he shimmied out of the way.

“Told you what?” Declan asked. 

You curled a black strand around your finger. 

“That I didn’t have to prove something to be loved by you.”

He pressed a kiss to your palm.

“For once, Rupert and I agree.” He lead you out to dance, swaying slowly despite the cheesy song. 

“Merry Christmas, Declan.” You kissed him again, nuzzling closer. 

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

And so you all spent Christmas dancing to overplayed tunes under flashy, colorful lights. 

And it was perfect.

[minnlahzz]

Silver Relationship Headcanons.

requested.

yo! this is apart of a very biiig request that I've procrastinated with for a long time. I think this is the time I can write, since it's my break. trying to get the hang of things is hard, please bare with me! I don't have ANY of my old themes aside from the divider and pictures, sooooo it may look unaesthetic/horrifying until I decide to fix something. even if they didn't request this, this is also gift to @amethiosspouse !!

— NOTE LOWERCASE INTENDED.

silver is… complicated. some people might think he’s cold and distant, but he’s really just guarded and doesn’t know how to express himself. he’s not the type to be overly affectionate, but his loyalty runs deep. if he’s with you, he means it. silver wouldn't just date anybody because of hersays or looks, he'd have to KNOW and like somebody forrealsies.

he'd most likely be with a person who is patient, but not a pushover. silver respects strength and independence, but he doesn’t want someone who’ll bulldoze over his opinions either. he values emotional maturity—he needs someone who can handle his quiet moments without taking them personally. sometimes he just needs some peace and quiet.

silver's love language is quality time, he has a soft spot for quiet moments together. just sitting in silence, watching the stars or listening to the sounds of the forest, is his idea of quality time.

sneasel is always around. it’s like glue. like its trainer sneasel doesn’t trust people easily, so earning its approval is a big deal. once you do, though, it’ll start bringing you random “gifts” (like berries or shiny rocks).

but just because you're dating him doesn't mean it's all sunshine and rainbows, like I said silver is complicated. be patient with him, and understand him for who he is! there are many pros and cons when dating this tomato.

there are many pros he has, silver is mature and that's what makes him a good partner.

he’s fiercely protective. silver might not always say the right thing, but his actions speak volumes. if you’re in trouble, he’ll be there, no questions asked. you've got your own batman.

he’s surprisingly thoughtful. he remembers little details about you, like your favorite food or your favorite ice cream flavor. it’s his way of showing he cares. silver is attentive, he listens to people even when it looks like he isn't. he'd listen to your complaints and responds to it with clear answers.

silver will always help you, if you're a trainer he'll tell you tips you've never heard of. if you wanna battle, you've got yourself one!

there's never a perfect character, silver has alot of cons and things to consider. he's still his own person, and sometimes there are things you can't control.

silver struggles with vulnerability. it’s hard for him to open up, and sometimes it feels like he’s keeping you at arm’s length. no matter how close you guys are, there will always be something he will keep private.

it takes him a long time to truly trust someone, and even when he does, there’s a part of him that’s always prepared for betrayal. this can lead to moments where he questions your intentions, even if you’ve done nothing wrong.

when things get tough, silver’s instinct is to deal with it alone. he doesn’t mean to shut you out, but it can leave you feeling like you’re not part of his life during the moments that matter most.

his intensity can be intimidating. he doesn’t mean to come off as harsh, but he’s not great at softening his words.

-

over all 7/10 he’s loyal, protective, and will stick by you through thick and thin, but his emotional unavailability and trust issues make the relationship a lot of work. if you’re patient and willing to deal with this, he’s worth it—but don’t expect a fairy-tale romance. expect a cynthia champion battle difficulty romance... do you get it? (probably not)

[jawlipops]

bellaras dialogue after weisshaupt is pissing me tf off i hate that they boiled the entire worldbuilding potential of elven gods returning down to one scene of "what if people think we evil :("

[lazycranberrydoodles]

I hate to ask but who is hua Chang

Hua Cheng is the deuterantagonist of the Chinese web novel Heaven Official's Blessing! It's a historical fantasy novel about gods and ghosts and cultivators (xianxia) by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu. It's also a gay romance (danmei). The main themes are destiny, love, and what it means to be a good person. It has a comic version (manhua) and one-soon-to-be-two seasons of animation (donghua).

He's an 800+ year old ghost who has a sentient sword made from his own dismembered eye, runs a city, turns his enemies into blood rain, creates silver wraith butterflies and has been devotedly worshiping/pining after his god, Xie Lian, his entire life. This book is the longest hyperfixation I have ever had. So I think it's pretty good (understatement of the century).

I can and have written essay length rants about him but here is a paragraph i wrote a while back about my favorite things about him, to sum up:

His gender probably. The way he looked fate in the eyes and said “fuck you, old man” and built a highly successful life of his own. How he is so fucked up but still hyper-competent. How all his strength comes from love. How his devotion changed as he grew up but never wavered. The way he is kind but not nice. His infodump swag.

[grimmweepers]

i really do self sabotage when it comes to irl dating 😭💀

[albonium]

i had a conversation yesterday about hpv and the gardasil vaccine with a colleague that's a couple years older than me after learning that a colleague might have cervical cancer. i told him how lucky my sister and i had been to have parents who were super open about sex education and health. some of our friends didn't have that chance, that led us to get plan b for some, get them tested for stds or even our mom driving one to the hospital for an abortion. anyway, he told me that his parents and his family never ever would have talked about it because of religion and how they think they shouldn't have these discussions. it's wild to me that people are willing to have kids but won't protect them by having a couple of uncomfortable talks with them. whatever happens kids will be kids, they'll grow and have their first experiences if you want it or not. you can just try to make it so that when the time comes they're as safe and prepared as possible. who cares if that's uncomfortable? against your values? do you think children always respect the parents' values? lol no! they'll do everything behind their backs and put themselves in even more danger. if they don't want to have talks about sex condoms stds and consent then get a younger uncle to do it or something idk. it's your duty to educate and keep your children safe.

[perilegs]

i pass pretty much all the time but hm. ive heard interesting stuff from drunk ppl i know who dont know im trans