#claire kissing his nose???

[aralisj]

I want to binge the whole of S3 of The Bear but I needed to stop because episode 1 made me lose it a little bit. Longest 37 min of my life, gorgeous, stressful, stunning.

[crushpunky]

actress!reader and “big, bad boyfriend” drew

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

The leaves had just started to turn, a cool breeze blowing down the streets of Charleston. It wasn’t often the couple had the opportunity to spend a day out together, with everything from hectic schedules to heards of paparazzi, it always seemed like something was in the way. However, on the beautiful autumn day, the two of them decided to take Charleston out on a walk.

“God, I’ve been craving Claire’s.” Y/n sighed, peering up at Drew as they continued along the sidewalk, Charleston trotting excitedly in front of them. Both of them were “undercover”, baseball hats low and sunglasses on, hoping to not draw too much attention.

“We got it, what, four days ago?” Drew teased, holding open the door to the coffee shop. Y/n rolled her eyes with a laugh, stepping into the cafe before Drew followed her.

“Find a seat and I’ll get our order, yeah?” Drew said, pressing a kiss to y/n’s temple before handing off Charleston to her. Y/n wove through the people littered throughout the cafe before finding a table on the patio. She sat down, taking off her sunglasses as Charleston curled up by her feet. The familiar scent of coffee and pastries filled her nose, allowing her to sink further into her chair as she waited for Drew to finish up.

“Is this seat taken?” Y/n glanced up from her phone at the voice. A man with curly, blond hair smiled down at her.

“Oh, yeah my—”

“Aren’t you that actress? From that Netflix show, yeah?” The man interrupted her, pulling out the seat opposite her (Drew’s) before sitting down. Y/n could feel Charleston stirring at her feet as she sat up a little straighter, glancing back towards the cafe.

“Um, yeah.” Y/n chuckled nervously, flashing a practiced, PR smile at him.

“See, I didn’t recognize you ‘cause you usually got like… nothing on, y’know? Bikini and shit.” The guy said, leaning onto the table. She could smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath as he eyes continued to scan over her in a way that made her want to scream.

“Oh, um, sure.” Y/n said shortly before glancing down at her lap.

“You’ve got, like, a crazy body—”

“Excuse me.” Y/n’s head shot up at the sound of Drew’s voice. He stood at the table, placing y/n’s coffee down in front of her, his gaze locked on the man sitting opposite her.

“Aww, shit man, I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, exactly, ‘you wasn’t’.” Drew said, his jaw clenched. Y/n could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen Drew like this outside of character, a fire in his eye and his fists clenched. She reached out, running her hand along his arm before taking his hand.

“Can I at least get a picture with the lady?” The man slurred, shooting a sly smirk at y/n.

“Get out of here.” Drew said sharply, his tongue prodding at the side of his cheek.

“Drew.” Y/n whispered harshly, tugging on his arm as she glanced around. The patio was filled with people, people who inevitably had phones and cameras and wouldn’t hesitate to post about how “Netflix Star Freaks Out on Fan”.

“Don’t be like that—”

“Get the fuck out of here.” Drew said. The man got up quickly, sending the chair backwards as he stood against Drew, a solid head shorter than him. One look into Drew’s steely gaze, however, and the man scurried away. Y/n let out a sigh of relief, running her hands through her hair.

“Baby, are you alright? I’m sorry, I—” Drew crouched down, grabbing her face in his hands.

“Yes, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Y/n whispered, nodding with a short grin before pressing a kiss to Drew’s cheek. She wasn’t lying. While she had been scared when the man sat opposite her, the second Drew appeared she knew everything would be alright, because, whenever Drew was with her, she would be alright.

“Are you sure? We can go home if you need to.” Drew ran his thumb along her skin softly, his eyes wide with concern.

“I’m fine, I promise. I’ve dealt with my fair share of assholes.” Y/n said again with a sip of her coffee before Drew settled into the seat opposite her. The two of them sat in a comfortable silence for a minute, drinking their coffee and taking bites of the pastry Drew had gotten, just soaking in the beautiful, fall afternoon. She could see the guilt on his face, the thoughts swirling in his mind as they sat.

“Oh, Drewseph, my big, bad boyfriend.” Y/n said, reaching across the table to grab Drew’s hand, hoping to soothe his racing mind. He shook his head, his cheeks blushing underneath his baseball hat.

“I wasn’t expecting to nearly beat the shit out of someone today.” Drew sighed, a grin dancing on his lips.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you nearly beat the shit out of someone ever.” Y/n raised her eyebrows. It was true. Drew, unlike what his six-foot-two, intimidating demeanor might entail, was the biggest sweetheart… it was one of the things she loved so much about him. That scary-boyfriend exterior with that kind, loving interior always made her melt.

“Didn’t think I’d ever do that, but when I saw him it just…” Drew shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Drew Starkey, I love you.” Y/n said, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.

“Y/n y/ln, I love you.” Drew said, kissing the back of her hand in return.

“I can’t lie, seeing you that… overprotective—” y/n leaned in, her voice dropping, “---was really, really hot.”

“Really?” Drew whispered, his eyebrow quirking up and smirk widening.

“Oh yeah, super.” Y/n bit her bottom lip before taking a slow sip of her coffee. Drew swallowed harshly, his gaze dropping to where y/n’s lips sucked on the straw before fluttering back to her eyes.

“I think we should go home now.” Drew said quietly.

“And why’s that?” Y/n teased, her cheeks warming under Drew’s sultry eye.

“I think you know why.” Drew grinned, pressing a kiss to her nose before standing up from the table and offering her his hand. She took it gladly, the two of them heading back home, Charleston in tow… maybe walking a little bit faster than they had on their way into town.

[katsukistofu]

claire de lune

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. 1.8k words — domestic fluff. slightly suggestive. ⭑ there’s nothing you and katsuki wouldn’t do for your baby girl, and that includes giving her the moon.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

“Yes angel?”

“I want that thing down!” Your daughter points above you with her tiny finger. The faint chirping of crickets can be heard in the distance, and tall, silken blades of grass tickle the both of your cheeks as you gaze upward at the vast periwinkle sky. 

A sweet smile spreads across your lips. “You want me to get the moon down?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Aw sweetheart, I’d get it for you but mommy can’t reach that high. Daddy probably can though.”

She pouts at this, and turns away from you to poke her dad who is on the brink of falling asleep again on the other side of her. 

“Dada!”

Katsuki’s eyes flutter open and he groggily faces her, head resting on his folded arms behind him. You bite back a laugh at the crumbs still decorating his cheeks. Sumi was trying to balance Cheeto puffs on his nose earlier before his nap. “What ‘sup bubba?”

She points at the moon again. “Get it down.”

“That?” Your husband covers his mouth to yawn, glancing up at the darkening sky. Sumi nods excitedly. “M’kay. Was thinking about it when you and mommy started lookin’ anyway.” He says it so casually, like getting the moon for her was a feat as simple as buying a carton of strawberries at the store.

“Yay!” Sumi cheers, and he chuckles when she struggles to slip her hand under his arm on the ground to hug it. Katsuki rolls over and she giggles, now sandwiched between the both of you as you hug her.

“Sumi, how about you wait inside while Daddy gets it for you?” You suggest. It was starting to get late. 

“Nooo,” Sumi whines. “Wanna stay here and watch.”

“You can have the last cookie in the kitchen’s jar.”

Sumi’s eyes brighten. “The bear one that looks like dada!”

“That’s right, sweetheart. The one with his grump grump face.”

“Who’re you calling a grump grump.” Katsuki scowls, secretly reaching over Sumi to give an affectionate pinch to the softness of your hip and you squeal. 

“Sumi, Daddy’s being mean to mommy!”

Sumi’s face matches Katsuki’s expression from before. “Stop that dada!” 

Katsuki slyly grins and withdraws his hand, masking his face into an expression that is the definition of innocence. With amusement, you note the little huff of pride he makes seeing Sumi’s tiny scowl, perfectly identical to his. “Mommy started it.” 

She blows a raspberry at him and wriggles out of his grasp, then gives the both of you pats on the head like you’re misbehaving puppies and finally runs off back into the house. 

“You two play nice!” Sumi waggles her finger with as much sternness as a three year old can muster before promptly shutting the door in your faces.

Katsuki meets your eyes with his and the both of you laugh on the grass, breathlessly clutching each other. 

“I wonder who she takes after more,” you muse between giggles. 

“Definitely you.” Katsuki rolls his eyes, bringing you closer to him with his arms snug around your waist.

“Whaaat? No way, I was totally going to say you.” You grin cheekily, eyes going almost comically wide when he kisses you hard on the mouth in response.

“Shut up.” 

“Kiss me again and I will,” you murmur dazedly and he chuckles, muttering something under his breath about you being insatiable despite leaning in to give you another one.

With how close he is, everything is soft eyelashes, the dull thudding of his heart beat synchronizing with yours as his firm chest presses against you, and the warmth radiating from his smooth skin, slowly seeping into your body.

Each movement of your lips brushes his mouth more and more against yours and even after almost a decade of being together, the feeling still makes your brain go fuzzy. All your thoughts melt away. It’s just you and him.

“Kats,” you breathe in warning. His fingers have somehow found their way under your sundress and they’re mindlessly tracing nonsensical shapes into the small of your back, his other arm still tightly wrapping you in his warm embrace. “I really, really need to go iron your suit for tomorrow. Plus, aren’t you supposed to be catching the moon right now, mister?”

“Just ten more minutes,” Katsuki murmurs against your collarbone and you shiver. His voice is still husky with sleep. “And I already caught the thing.”

“Really? Proof or you’re lying.” You raise a brow skeptically, and you should’ve known better than to doubt him when he actually reaches behind him, the wedding ring that he never takes off even to wear his hero costume glinting in the moonlight, to lift up a neatly wrapped up box with a little baby pink ribbon on it. 

Your mouth drops open in surprise. “Where the hell did you get that?”

Katsuki grins proudly. “Found it after patrol last week with Eijiro.”

“It being…?”

“The moon.” He sets the box down in front of you. “It’s a night light, ‘cause I know Mimi’s scared of the dark.” 

“Aww Katsuki,” you coo, reaching out to caress his cheek. “That’s so cute.”

He blushes at the pure look of adoration in your eyes, and you can’t help but smile when he hides his face in your hair. “S’nothin’. Just getting the best for our little girl.”

Your husband grumbles when you let out that perfect, angelic giggle of yours and rest your hand on his head in response. He was so adorable. 

The way he’s acting is so similar to how you did at the beginning of your relationship all those years ago in high school, but it seems that as the both of you got older the tables turned and he was the clingier one now, much to the amusement of your classmates and the press when they managed to get ahold of you.

Katsuki lets out a low, content hum as you run your fingers through his soft hair. The both of you lay there, basking in each other’s touch and comfortable silence.

“Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you when you were sunbathing on the beach this morning.”

Your cheeks are warm. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Katsuki smirks at your expression. “Sumi kept smacking me with her damn shovel when we were making sand castles. Stop staring at mommy, it's rude!” He says, mimicking your daughter’s scolding tone.

You laugh at his Sumi impression. “My girl was trying to teach you some manners!”

“Damn straight.” He grins against your neck, and your cheeks grow hot at the way his teeth lightly graze over your skin. “That’s why I said she’s more like you, mommy.”

Your stomach flips against your will and your cheeks burn as you smack his well-muscled chest. “Don’t call me that!”

“Hah? Am I hearing my wife being embarrassed right now, after everything we’ve done? After what we made together?” Katsuki teases. “When you’re talking to Sumi you call me dadd—“

“What’s taking you so long!” Speaking of the little devil, Sumi’s impatient voice floats down to the garden through the open window of her room upstairs. “I want my moon and bedtime story now!”

“We’re on our way, Sumi!” You call up. Katsuki reluctantly lets you pull away from his arms, and the both of you stand up to dust yourselves off. He groans as he cracks his back next to you.

“Don’t think we’re nursing home age just yet,” you say jokingly. Katsuki snorts and pinches your cheek for the jibe. 

“You’re lucky I’m still gonna think you’re cute when you’re in grandma diapers.”

“Wha—Hey!” You trail after him into the house. Damn his fast pace and his longer legs. He’s already up the stairs, the present box in his hand.

You reach the top of the stairs and head for the familiar light pink interior of Sumi’s room but stop in the doorway to coo at the sight before you. 

“Hey, squirt. Got the moon for you, just like I said I would.” Katsuki’s voice is gentle as he kneels on the floor to meet her sparkling eyes, and gently shakes the box in his hands before holding it out to her.

“Whoaaa!” Sumi eagerly takes it. “Thank you dada!” 

She raises her head and spots you leaning against the frame of her door. “Mommy look!”

“I’m looking, Mimi.”

“You and dada watch me open it.” 

“Okay, go ahead we’re watching.” Katsuki and you smile softly as she unwraps the present with care and she gasps, tiny hands taking the globe-shaped, moon night light out. It was decorated with realistic looking craters, and even came with a wooden stand to put it on.

“So cute.” Her eyes are as wide as dinner plates. “So pretty.” Then she tilts her head in the direction of her open curtains.

“Why’s she still up there though?” Sumi asks curiously, and Katsuki chuckles. Of course his kid is way too smart to be tricked by something like a night light. 

“Well we can’t actually take the moon away, sweetie. She has her stars to take care of.”

“Oh.” Sumi frowns, deep in thought, then perks up. “Mr. Sun would miss her too!”

“Mhm, that’s right.” You ruffle her hair playfully and she squeals. “That’d be like someone taking me away from you and daddy.”

“No!” Sumi pouts. “Don’t like that. Wanna stay with you and dada forever.”

“And you will, Sumi.” Katsuki pats her little head with his much larger hand in reassurance. “Mommy and I are gonna to be with you forever. Right mommy?”

You sigh, realizing he’s got you trapped. “That’s right… daddy,” you grit out, ignoring the victorious grin that causes his unfairly attractive dimple to appear on his cheek and you head straight for Sumi’s spot on the bed, taking a seat next to her. She leans against your arm, and you press a loving kiss to the top of her head. 

Sumi holds the night light out to Katsuki, who gently sets it down on her nightstand and plugs it in. It casts a soft, white glow, just like real moonlight on his face, and Sumi and you ooh and awe at it in appreciation.

“Can I have my bedtime story now?” Sumi pipes up.

“Sure, think it’s mommy’s turn to read.” Katsuki joins the both of you in bed, sliding an arm behind you. “What book were you thinking of tonight?”

“Le Peewee Prince!”

You giggle. “Le Petit Prince?”

“Yeah, that one!”

“Okay then. Come here and lay down, sweetheart.” You take the bookmark out from where you left off last time, the moon night light beside you illuminating the pages as you begin to read.

“Goodbye, said the fox.” You recite in a quiet, dulcet voice. Katsuki’s arm around your waist hugs you and Sumi closer, who snuggles up between you both, blanket tucked snug under her chin. Your chest warms at the sight, and you continue. “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye…”

[rafecameronssl4t]

I have a request please. It is rafe cameron x dcc!reader where the reader doesn't cheer anymore because she was pregnant and she surprises Rafe at a game with their baby. Thank you!

End Game || nfl player!Rafe Cameron x dcc!reader

A/n: I love this idea sm and this fic made me smile sm

Warnings: PURE FLUFF

Word count: 1,439

MASTERLIST (nfl!rafe x dcc!reader au masterlist)

The locker room buzzed with energy as you pushed open the door, your four-month-old daughter, Lottie, balanced on your hip. The moment Kelcey spotted you, her gasp echoed through the room. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening with delight. Instantly, every head turned in your direction, and the once noisy room erupted into squeals and excited chatter.

“You’re here!” Kelli called out, rushing over to pull you into a tight hug. She pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, her face glowing with happiness. “You didn’t tell us you were coming!” “It’s a surprise,” you said, grinning as you shifted Lottie in your arms. “Rafe has no idea I’m here.” The girls practically swarmed you, their attention immediately zeroing in on Lottie.

You chuckled as you handed her over to Claire, who cradled her gently, her face lighting up as Lottie let out a soft babble. “She’s gotten so big!” Claire gushed, running her fingers lightly over Lottie’s chubby cheeks. “I swear, she was just a tiny peanut the last time I saw her.” “She’s adorable,” Judy chimed in, leaning in closer to admire her.

“Look at her little nose! Oh my, and her blue eyes. She looks so much like Rafe. You laughed, nodding. “I get that a lot. But I like to think she has my smile.” The girls all burst into a chorus of agreement, glancing between you and Lottie as if comparing. “Oh, definitely,” Kelli said, grinning. “She’s got your sweetness, for sure.”

Lottie cooed and kicked her legs excitedly as the girls continued to dote on her, passing her around like a precious gem. Her little hands reached out to grab onto Claire’s hair, her wide eyes sparkling with curiosity. “She’s such a happy baby,” Kelcey said, brushing a stray curl from Lottie’s forehead. “She’s a daddy’s girl for sure,” you said warmly, your smile softening as you watched Lottie giggle at all the attention.

Her tiny hands reached out towards Kelcey, who gently wiggled her fingers in return, earning another burst of babbling laughter from your daughter. “But I wanted her to have a chance to see where Rafe spends all his time, even if she doesn’t quite understand it yet.” “Aww, does that mean you’ll bring her to our games more often?” Reece gasped, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

You chuckled, nodding as you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “I’ll try to,” you promised. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to see all of you doting over her like this? She loves the attention.” “Can you blame her?” Kelli teased, her face lighting up as Lottie kicked her feet, thoroughly enjoying the spotlight. “She’s the cutest little cheerleader-in-training. Honestly, she’s got the best seat in the house if you’re up in the stands with her.”

“I think she’d rather be on the sidelines,” Claire added with a wink. “She’s already a little star with all these squeals.” You laughed, shaking your head. “One step at a time. For now, she’s just here to surprise Rafe.” “Oh, he’s going to melt when he sees her,” Judy said, bouncing Lottie gently in her arms.

“And you, of course. You two are like his entire world.” The girls exchanged nods of agreement, their excitement only growing as they imagined Rafe’s reaction. You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at the thought, already picturing the way his face would light up when he sees his daughter—and you—waiting for him.

~

“This is such a great idea,” you said with a soft giggle, walking alongside the girls through the tunnel. The energy in the stadium was electric, the roar of the crowd growing louder as the cheerleaders prepared to make their grand entrance. “Rafe is going to be so confused,” Kelli said, nudging your arm with a grin. “I hope it’s a good kind of confused,” you replied, your tone light but tinged with anticipation.

You adjusted the tiny, noise-cancelling headphones on Lottie’s head, ensuring they sat securely over her delicate ears. The four-month-old was tucked against your chest, her wide eyes scanning the bustling environment with fascination. As you reached the sideline, you stayed close to Judy and Kelli, watching as the girls took their places on the field.

The opening notes of Thunderstruck blared through the speakers, and the cheerleaders sprang into action, their synchronised routine captivating the crowd. You couldn’t help but smile, the moment bringing back memories of when you used to be out there with them. Meanwhile, people in the stands and nearby began noticing you. Excited murmurs rippled through the crowd, and some fans waved enthusiastically in your direction.

You waved back, offering a warm smile to those who recognised you and Lottie. Then your eyes shifted to the field, where Rafe jogged onto the turf with his team, his every move purposeful and confident as he began warming up. His sharp focus was evident, his game-day mentality in full swing. Your heart swelled as you watched him, the father of your daughter and the love of your life.

“Who’s that, sweetie?” you asked softly, pointing toward Rafe. Lottie turned her head, her big eyes locking onto him almost instantly. Her face lit up as if she recognised him from across the field. A delighted squeal escaped her lips, her little legs kicking excitedly against your arm. “She knows her daddy,” Judy said with a laugh, her gaze soft as she watched Lottie’s animated reaction.

“She’s definitely his biggest fan,” you said proudly, a tender smile spreading across your face as Lottie continued to babble in delight. As the cheerleaders concluded their high-energy routine, Judy motioned for you to follow her. “Come this way,” she said, leading you closer to the field. The girls gathered around you, forming a playful huddle.

Their pom-poms shimmered under the stadium lights as they moved in unison, catching the attention of the crowd and cameras alike. “Oh? What are the cheerleaders up to now?” one of the commentators said, his curiosity piqued as the camera zoomed in on the group. The atmosphere in the stadium shifted, the audience’s attention fully drawn to the sidelines.

Even Rafe paused his warm-up, straightening up as he turned his head toward the commotion. His brow furrowed slightly in confusion, clearly trying to piece together what was happening. Then, in perfect synchronisation, the cheerleaders stepped aside, revealing you and Lottie standing behind them. Rafe’s reaction was immediate and priceless.

His jaw dropped, his helmet slipping from his hand as he stared in stunned disbelief. The camera zoomed in on his face, capturing every second of his surprise, and the crowd erupted into cheers and laughter. “Ladies and gentlemen, former Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader and Rafe Cameron’s partner, along with their adorable daughter, Lottie,” the commentator announced, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.

Rafe didn’t hesitate. He broke into a full sprint toward you, his grin widening with every step. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said breathlessly, wrapping you and Lottie in a tight embrace. His arms enveloped both of you, holding on as if he never wanted to let go. You laughed, resting your chin on his shoulder. “We wanted to surprise you,” you said over the roar of the stadium, your heart racing from the intensity of the moment.

Rafe leaned back, his hands gentle as he took Lottie into his arms. “Hey, princess,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of emotion. Lottie immediately reached for his face, her tiny fingers brushing against his cheek as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. The crowd watched in awe as Rafe spun her around gently, her delighted squeals audible even over the noise.

His love for her was written all over his face, and you couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, his eyes meeting yours as he let out a breath of relief. “Both of you.” “Hi, sweetheart,” came a familiar voice from behind. You turned to see your dad, Coach Johnson, approaching with a warm smile. He pulled you into a side hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Hi, Dad,” you said with a chuckle, leaning into his embrace. Rafe looked between you and your dad, his expression shifting to one of playful suspicion. “Did you know about this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Coach Johnson. Your dad shrugged, his tone feigning innocence. “Maybe?” Rafe shook his head with a laugh, pulling Lottie close again as you and your dad joined in with soft chuckles. The entire stadium watched the heartfelt reunion, and you knew this moment would be talked about long after the game ended.

[stvolanis]

S1 Rafe Cameron! Would make your life hell. Taunting you with his stupid friends, teasing you for being a virgin; only for him to fuck you without a care in the world—only for his pleasure though, of course. S1 Rafe wouldn’t care if you came or not, only look at you as a one night stand, and kicking you out in the morning after you sucked his dick nice n good. “Juuustt like that, slut.” He said as he guided your head down his length till your nose brushed his trimmed hair. he’s an asshole about it too, gloating to all his little golf buddies about the sweet little virgin he laid the previous night.

S2 Rafe Cameron! Would indirectly stake his claim on you. Letting everyone know you’re off limits, and he’s the one that de-flowered you. Now, he fucks you like he’s got nothing to lose. Overstimulating your sloppy cunt with orgasms and harsh words. “Gone stupid on my dick, huh, sweetheart?” He’d say, clicking his tongue as he watched you come undone again on his cock. He still kicks you out after, but he surprisingly makes up for it the next day by taking you out to dinner and fucking you again.

S3 Rafe Cameron! Is different when you’re officially his. He’s more calm and calculated when you usher responses out of him. He focuses on the way your face contorts into pleasure when he has you sprawled out under him, his fingers working at your spongy insides relentlessly. He basks in your mewls of pleasure, knowing that only he had the privilege of making you feel this good. “Good girl, baby. Doin’ so good f’me. My girl, hm?” He’d coo, kissing the side of your neck after a particularly loud moan.

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[pinkusmaximus]

So many “taking care of Logan after a long day” fics exist. Why not Wade?

Wade, who is canonically in constant chronic pain due to cancer ripping apart his cells and then being knitted back together by his healing factor. Who, in the comics, isn’t just scarred, but constantly has open wounds on every plane of his body. Whose brain is constantly being literally eaten by cancer and replaced and is tumultuous in his emotions at best (bipolar girly here, relatable). Who so desperately tries to be a good guy when he knows it matters the most. Who throws his all into protecting the people he holds dearest to him. Who is, in reality, doing one of the only jobs that accommodates his conditions, and is still doing it to take out people he believes are causing others harm.

Doesn’t he deserve to be greeted with a warm, reassuring hug and a soft kisses to his features? To be helped out of his suit as his body succumbs to the mounting exhaustion and relief at being at home, taken to a warm (but not hot) bath with a soothing soak blend you’d carefully researched to ease the discomfort of the ever-changing landscape of hills and valleys in his flesh? He knows you know that they don’t help him heal and certainly doesn’t prevent them from reappearing, but he likes to believe (or pretend) that it eases the itch and ache, if only for just a little while.

He likes it when you sit with him, asking gently probing questions about your day to get you talking and less concerned about him. And he likes hearing about your day, the mundane and even routine things that he lacks. He likes it when you offer to help wash the blood off of him, knowing that your careful hands will be gently massaging away at his aching muscles. It’s one of the few times he’s really quiet; letting your hands work off the red to leave behind Wade, just Wade.

When you help him out of the bath, leaving him to the bedroom with his favorite pajama pants and one of seemingly unending shirts with phrases like I GOT MY CLIT PIERCED AT CLAIRE’S or I MAY BE STUPID, you return to the kitchen to take dinner out of the oven. Some kind of one-sheet-pan recipe you’d looked up earlier in the day while you were at work. Whatever it is, it smells amazing from in the bedroom, and he quickly comes out to wrap his arms around your waist and lean over your shoulder to take a deeper whiff, calling you Martha Stewart and Guy Fieri’s bastard scandal child or asking if you were extracted straight out of Gordon Ramsey’s left nut.

You have a lovely dinner with Wade singing your praises the entire time, and god, it knocks him right out. Do not let that man go sit on the couch after a good, filling meal like that, because that is where he will pass out and you couldn’t move him with a forklift. Take him by both hands, lead him into the bedroom, get him on the bed (let him make his comments, they are unavoidable whether he’s horny or not), turn the lights off, and crawl under the covers with him. Press your body as close to his as possible; he’ll probably want to be skin to skin if he can stay awake long enough to get you both out of your clothes. And to perhaps everyone’s surprise except yours, it’s really not all that sexual in nature. He finds the smoothness of your skin soothing against his own, and he runs a little cold, so he finds refuge in the warmth you provide. He likes to pull the covers up to your noses and kiss you under the blankets like you’re hiding some big secret, making you giggle as he shushes you to keep quiet.

His favorite place to sleep on nights like this is with his ear against your chest; the sound of your heart still beating and your lungs still pulling in air is a great comfort to him. If it’s comfortable, he’ll want to fall asleep with your fingers lazily entwined, and pro tip— he finds it incredibly relaxing to have you run your fingertips along his palm, down his wrist and up in the inside of his forearm then all the way back down until he falls asleep. Congratulations, you’ve got yourself a content and quiet Wade all to yourself until morning. Enjoy it. Make sure you kiss his cheeks and nose and forehead while you’re at it; it makes him smile in his sleep.

[honeyryewhiskey]

... ❝ happy new year!❞

— a hunter's new year's eve party is the last place you wanted to be tonight. but, claire clued you in on a certain someone being here tonight. and, what? you're just supposed to not show up when the elusive dean winchester is making an appearance? warnings!! alcohol use, strong language, it's nye ofc they r kissing, assume reader is a little older than claire so this is less weird idk, 18+ mdni ! 3.8k words

“Claire—no. I told you, I’m not going,” you say with an exaggerated sigh, tucking your phone between your shoulder and chin as you step out of the quiet diner. The cool South Dakota night breeze bites at your skin as you continue, “Hunters are obnoxious drunks—all of them. New Year’s is basically a rite of passage: another year breathing, another excuse to act like a pack of wild animals partying like it’s their last day on Earth.” As you huff a sigh, the cold air turning your breath into a misty cloud that lingers.

Crossing the dimly lit parking lot toward your truck, you hear Claire mutter something under her breath.

It’s quick—but her words make your heart flutter, your hand freezing just as it brushes the door handle.

“What did you just say?”

Through the crackle of the call, you can hear her smug little scoff that instantly makes you want to reach through the phone. You know she’s dramatically rolling her big blue eyes, too

“I said,” she drawls, each word slow and taunting, like a cat playing with a trapped mouse, “The Winchesters are in town—so Dean will be there.”

Dean fucking Winchester. You’d only met him once—years ago, before Claire roped you into becoming her hunting partner. He’d swept in like a storm, leather jacket and all, to save your ass from a nasty shifter, barely breaking a sweat in the process. His gruff charm and cocky smirk had left you reeling, even as he’d muttered something about “maybe hunting isn’t the answer” before disappearing into the night in his impala. But it wasn’t until later, in the dim haze of a small-town bar, when Claire casually dropped the bombshell that the Winchesters were basically her uncles. A few drinks in, your guard slipped, and you drunkenly admitted your stupid crush on the eldest brother. Claire, to her credit, had seemed to let it slide—until now.

“So, what?” you say, forcing out a sheepish laugh as you yank the car door open a little too hard. It bounces back and smacks into your arm. “Ow,” you mutter, scowling at the offending door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” You grit your teeth, cheeks burning. “Look, Claire, I told you I’m not going. The Winchesters don’t change that.”

“Uh-huh,” she replies, dripping with disbelief. “And what if I told you Dean’s already here—at Jodi’s—and he asked about you?”

“He did?” The words are out before you can stop them, your stomach doing an unwelcome little flip. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly shuffle into the driver’s seat. “What was he asking? Wait—what did you say to him?”

“Hah!” Claire cackles, victorious. “You sound like a middle schooler, all flustered over a boy.”

“Oh, Claire,” you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at nothing, “your uncle is so much more than a boy—”

“Ew! Stop it.” Her groan is dramatic enough to make you grin. “Look, if you don’t come, I’ll just tell Dean about your little crush myself.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Hey, Dean! Can you c’mere for a second?”

“Claire Novak!” You practically shout, panic tightening your throat.

Her laughter echoes through the line, wicked and delighted. “God, you’re so easy. Relax—I’m kidding.” There’s a pause. Her voice sounds distant, as she talks to someone on the other side of the phone, “oh—Dean, can you just say something stupid real quick? Need proof of life here.”

“What?” His gruff voice rumbles faintly through the line.

“Perfect.” Claire’s smugness is palpable. “So?”

You let out a groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fine. Give me a few hours.” 

✧˖*°࿐

The humming engine softens as you creep down the winding drive. Large pine trees part as Jodi’s cabin comes into view. Massive windows, glowing orange against Pactola Lake. The light leaves a pretty reflection against glass-like water, a snow covered lawn twinking in warm hues. But it’s the silky gleam of your headlights shining against the sleek body of an old ‘67 impala that catches your eyes. Dean’s impala.

The burning in your cheeks is hard to ignore as you find a space to park in the tightly packed lot. Old trucks and cars cover every inch, some even parked on the frosty grass. Hunter parties were big, but never this big. A ripple of relief flows through, momentarily easing the goosebumps pricking your skin. More people meant less chances for you to embarrass yourself in front of the Winchesters or Claire, who’d never let you live it down if you did.

Turning the ignition, the engine clicks off with a huff. As if on cue, your phone starts buzzing on the passenger seat. 

You bite down on the corner of your lip, face illuminated by the glow of your cell as the overhead lights fade out. 

Stealing a moment to yourself, you stare out at the quiet of the cars while practicing deep breathing. You’re used to this, you remind yourself. Hunter’s parties are where you spent all of your holidays after the age of eight. Ended up in the wrong place, at the wrong time and found yourself with your own hunter’s origin story. 

At least there was family in this world you live in, a weird, fucked up family of strangers bonded by their shared profession of exterminating walking evil from the world. 

And now, said family was getting plastered on homemade beer and cheap wine a few yards away from where you sat deep breathing in your truck. 

Shoving the creaky truck open, you slip into the night. Claire throws open the front door, a wicked grin plastered over her face. 

“Would you quit dragging your feet and get in here?” Claire hollers, her grin gleaming like she knows exactly how hard your heart is pounding. The faint hum of country music and the murmur of voices spill out through the open doorway behind her, the warmth of the cabin promising a sharp contrast to the frosty night air.

You tug your jacket tighter around yourself, muttering, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

The cabin’s interior is as cozy and chaotic as you remember from past gatherings. The faint scent of pine mingles with beer and something smoky—someone probably barbecued a big dinner. Hunters are scattered everywhere, laughing, drinking, and sharing stories loud enough to rattle the walls.

You weave your way through the crowd, nodding at familiar faces. There’s Jodi by the makeshift bar, pouring drinks while laughing at something Alex said. Garth waves from his spot near the fire, somehow managing to juggle a beer and a plate piled high with food. And Bobby is leaning against a wall, talking with a hunter you vaguely recognize from a case last year.

Claire bumps into you from behind, snapping you out of your daze. “C’mon,” she sings out, brows jumping with excitement, “drinks are this way.” 

She leads you to the cluster of coolers tucked against the back wall of the kitchen. The noise of the party fades slightly as you step away from the center of the chaos, but the faint hum of music and bursts of laughter still fill the air.

“Here,” Claire nods, flipping open a cooler lid and pulling out a nondescript brown bottle. “You’ll love this. Super organic. Super local.”

“That sounds like a lie,” you say, narrowing your eyes as you take the bottle.

Claire smirks. “Just try it.”

With a small shrug, you twist the cap off and take a cautious sip. The taste hits immediately—bitter and earthy, with an unmistakable homemade tang. You recoil, your nose scrunching as the bottle lowers from your lips.

“Okay, what the hell is that?” you cough, wiping your mouth. “Did someone brew this in a bathtub?”

Claire laughs just as a voice cuts in from behind you, warm and teasing. “That bad, huh?”

You turn to find Dean standing there, beer in hand with an amused smirk on his lips. Your stomach flutters and flips under his gaze, as you remind yourself to just act cool.

You hadn’t even noticed Sam, stepping beside his brother with a polite smile. 

“Guess you’re not cut out for the finer things,” Dean adds, nodding toward the bottle in your hand.

“Oh, is that what this is?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow. “Because it tastes like someone blended tree bark and regret.”

Sam chuckles, offering his hand. “I’m Sam, this is my brother, Dean. You’re Claire’s friend right? She’s told us a lot about you.”

You take his hand with a polite smile. “Yeah, she’s told me plenty about you guys, too. Nice to finally meet you, Sam. But Your brother and I met once, a while ago now.”

Sam quirks a brow at your words, hazel eyes cutting between you and Dean as if he’s trying to read between the lines of exactly what kind of meeting that may have been.

Before he can get a chance to ask, Claire clears her throat loudly, cutting into the exchange. “Oh, Sam, didn’t you want to see that thing? Over there?” Her finger points vaguely at the living room, deep blue irises the size of saucers as she tries to give him a look of let’s go—now.

Sam blinks, confused as he turns towards her. “What thing?”

Rolling her eyes, she grabs his arm, already dragging him away. “You know—the thing Jodi was talking about. Let’s go.”

“Wait—what thing?” Sam protests, his long limbs stumbling as she pulls him into the crowd, leaving you and Dean standing awkwardly by the coolers.

Dean watches them disappear, his eyebrows furrowed. “She’s acting weird.”

You let out a sheepish laugh, looking down at the bottle in your hand. “Claire? No,” you wave your hand vaguely, desperate to put out the spark of suspicion brewing in his jade eyes, “She’s... always like that.”

Dean gives you a skeptical look but doesn’t push. “So,” he sighs, leaning casually against the counter, “how’s life as Claire’s partner-in-crime? She ever let you get a word in?” His curiosity completely fizzled, eyes trained on you with a small smile. 

You grin up at him, trying your damn hardest not to smile too much at a simple question. “Occasionally. When she’s asleep.”

“That sounds about right,” he chuckles, that smile falling into a smirk. “Bet she’s got you running all over the place, huh?”

“Pretty much. Although to be fair, I do my fair share of dragging her into messes.”

“Let me guess,” Dean starts, his husky voice making goosebumps tent across your skin. “You’re the responsible one. The voice of reason.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t go that far. It’s more like... I’m the one making sure she doesn’t jump into a werewolf den without backup.”

“Good luck with that,” he quips, rolling his eyes. “She’s stubborn as hell. Runs in the family.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you reply, smirking back at him.

Dean’s eyes narrow playfully. “Was that a shot at me?”

“Maybe,” you say, taking another swig of the beer and grimacing again. “God, this is terrible.”

Dean chuckles, reaching over to take the bottle from you. “Here, let me save you from yourself.” He sets it on the cooler and hands you one of the labeled beers from the next cooler over. “Try this instead. It won’t kill you.”

You take it, your fingers brushing his briefly. “Thanks. I was starting to think you were going to let me suffer.”

“Nah,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “Not my style.”

Bobby’s clapping as he strides into the kitchen catches everyone’s attention. “You two—garage, now,” he orders, motioning toward the garage door. A small crowd trails behind him as he crosses the room.

Dean flashes you a quick grin, raising a brow. You exchange a knowing look before following the group. Claire brushes past, grabbing your arm with a playful smile as she glances between you and Dean.

Jodi stood at the makeshift table in the garage, lining up red Solo cups with the precision of someone who’d once been a drill sergeant in another life. “Alright, listen up!” she called, gesturing toward the group. “We’re playing flip cup—two teams, four players each. No whining, no excuses, and definitely no cheating.” She pointed at Dean with a sharp look.

Dean raises his hands in mock surrender, all feigned innocence. “What? I’m offended you’d even suggest that, Jodi.”

Donna, practically bouncing with excitement, chimes in, “Relax, Sheriff. Dean’s too cocky to cheat. He thinks he’s already won.”

Standing next to Sam, you smirk. “That’s because he hasn’t gone up against us yet. His ego’s about to take a hit.”

Dean’s gaze snaps to yours, his eyebrows lifting with a teasing smile. “Big words, sweetheart. Let’s see if you can back ’em up.”

Jodi claps her hands again, “Alright, teams are set! Over here—Dean, Alex, Sam, and Bobby. Over there—Me, Donna, Claire and you.” she finishes, pointing at you with a wink. “Dean, I reckon I’ve got your match here with this one.” 

A deep laugh rolls out of Dean as he leans casually against the workbench, “Uh, huh, you say that now, Jodi. But you’re gonna be singin’ a different tune when this is over.”

The game kicks off with an eruption of cheers as everyone falls into line behind the first match: you and Alex. She knocks back her first drink with ease, but her flip wobbles, giving you enough time to swiftly take the first win. 

“Yes!” you shriek, hands going up in the air, “first blood!” 

“That’s my girl!” Claire giggles from the line. 

Dean, watching with his arms crossed, meets your eyes with a smirk, “Alright, alright, girls. Don’t get too cocky yet.”

Sam and Donna face off next. To your surprise, Donna keeps pace with Sam, matching his speed as she downs her drink. Just as Sam moves to flip his cup, Donna’s lands upright on the first try with flawless precision.

“Yes!” Donna shouts, throwing her arms up in victory. The garage erupts into cheers from her team, while yours lets out a collective groan.

Sam stares at his still-tipping cup, dumbfounded. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters.

Donna grins, clapping him on the back. “Sorry, Sammy, but the Midwest don’t mess around.”

They fall back from the table, Sam with his head hanging low as Dean’s laughter booms over everyone else's. 

Claire steps up with confidence, “You’re going down, old man!” she teases as she stares down Dean from across the table. Her expression is smug, completely locked into her competitive nature. They move simultaneously, Claire finishing her cup seconds before Dean. 

“C’mon,” she yells, wiping her mouth hastily as she attempts her first flip. It doesn’t land, earning a smug chuckle from Dean as he casually sets his cup down onto the table. 

Grinning at her lazily, “Patience, kiddo.” With an annoying lack of effort, he nails his first flip. A noisy chaos ensues around you. 

“That’s how it’s done.” he gloats, head tilting to throw you a quick wink.

With narrow eyes, you shoot back at him, “Don’t get too comfortable, Winchester.” 

The game heated up as Jodi and Bobby began the final round, a rambunctious chant of “chug, chug, chug,” filled the air. Jodi drinks too fast, falling into a coughing fit as Bobby takes advantage of the moment and flips his cup a few times, cursing, until he’s taking the round for the win. 

The opposite team cheers as Jodi regains her composure, “Hang on a damn minute,” she laughs, clearing her throat, “we’ve got a tie. Two and two for wins, who’s gonna be the tie breakers?”

Everyone looks around at each other for a moment, until Dean’s clearing his throat, stepping up to the table. He points at you without looking up from the cup he’s filling with beer. “You and me, baby. Let’s go.” 

The room quieted slightly as everyone leaned in, the tension palpable.

Dean smirks, “You ready for this?”

You return his look, eyes sparkling, “Born ready.”

You both drink at lighting speed, slamming cups down almost simultaneously. Dean flips first, but it topples over and skids across the table. “Damnnit!” he shouts. 

You try yours, the cup slipping on the table that has become a mess of puddles from the previous rounds. Bitting your lip you try again, your finger curling into the cup just as Dean breaks your focus with a throat holler.  

You look up to see his cup, perfectly upright on the table. 

His fists are pumping the air, basking in the glory. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don’t mess with the master.”

Donna and Alex high-fived him as Jodi shook her head with a rueful smile.

Claire, groaning loudly, threw a hand over her face. “Ugh, I’m never gonna hear the end of this.”

With your hands on her hips, a raised eyebrow. “Alright, Winchester. You won. No need to act like you just saved the world.”

Dean stepped closer, his grin growing wider. “Oh, it’s not just about winning. It’s about proving a point.”

Crossing your arms, head tilting. “And what point is that?”

Dean, leaning in slightly, lowered his voice just enough to make your heart skip. “That I’m better at everything.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Dean, straightening up, gave you a wink. “You’ll thank me for the lesson someday.”

Sam, rolling his eyes, walked by and clapped Dean on the shoulder. “You’re the worst winner.”

Dean grinned at his brother. “And proud of it, Sammy.”

The garage was still buzzing with energy as everyone started migrating toward the house, laughing and recounting moments from the flip cup game. Jodi herded people inside, saying something about grabbing coats before heading out for the fireworks.

You linger near the door, talking to Sam and Claire about Dean’s relentless gloating, when you feel the faintest brush of warm air against your ear.

“Hey.”

Dean’s closeness startles you, his lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“I’ve got a better spot to watch the fireworks,” he murmurs, his voice low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Blinking at him, your heart stumbles over itself. “Yeah? What makes it better?”

Dean leans in a little closer, glancing around to make sure no one else is listening. “Well, for one, it’s not packed with a bunch of loudmouths.” He nods toward the others, who are noisily debating something in the living room. “Second, it’s got the best view of the lake. Was gonna keep it to myself, but…” His brows raise, teasing. “Figured I owed you after absolutely destroying you in flip cup.”

You bite your cheek to hide a smile. “Oh, how generous of you.”

Dean leans back with a shrug, his hands sliding into his pockets. “What can I say? I’m a man of honor.”

“Sure you are,” you tease back, feeling a mix of amusement and nerves swirl in your chest.

Without waiting for a full reply, Dean jerks his head toward the back stairs. “C’mon. You in?”

You hesitate only for a moment, the pull of his green eyes leaving no room for argument. With a nod, you agree. “Lead the way.”

Following Dean up the stairs, the noise of the party fades into a muffled hum. Stepping into a bedroom, you notice the open duffel bag tossed on the bed, a scattered mess of flannels and dark t-shirts on the floor.

Oh. You’re in his room.

Unaware of the way your heart is beating like a hummingbird’s wings, Dean grabs a flannel blanket from the chair in the corner before crossing to the window.

“Wait,” you start, watching as he unlocks it and slides it open. “We’re going out the window?”

Dean glances over his shoulder, his grin casual as ever. “What, you scared of a little height? Thought you were more adventurous than that.”

“I’m plenty adventurous,” you shoot back, hands on your hips. “Just wasn’t expecting an escape route.”

“Well, buckle up, sweetheart.” He climbs through the window with practiced ease, balancing the blanket over his shoulder. “It’s worth it, trust me.”

You follow him, carefully stepping onto the gently sloped roof. The cool night air hits your cheeks, and the chatter of the group below mixes with faint music drifting from the cabin.

Dean spreads the blanket out on a flat portion of the roof, then turns to offer a hand. “Your throne awaits, milady.”

You laugh softly, taking his hand and sitting down next to him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” he quips, settling beside you.

It’s the perfect vantage point—an unobstructed view of the lake where the fireworks will light up the sky. Down on the lawn, the others gather, laughing and occasionally tripping over each other as a few of the guys set up the fireworks.

You laugh, pointing out one hunter chasing another with a lit sparkler. “This feels like a disaster waiting to happen.”

Dean chuckles. “Hunters: professional monster killers, amateur party planners.”

The fireworks begin, bursting over the lake in brilliant colors that reflect off the water. The two of you fall into a companionable silence, the booms and crackles filling the air.

Someone from the ground shouts into the night, “It’s almost time!”

Within seconds, your mind is racing, thinking about how much fun this entire night has been. How you’re not even sure when—or if—you’ll see the elusive Dean Winchester again. Maybe it’s the buzz from chugging beer during flip cup, or maybe it’s the way he makes you feel safe, even in silence, that gives you the courage to speak.

“Confession,” you blurt out, biting your lip. Just as you get the word out, the crowd below begins the countdown.

ten… nine…

“Hm?” he grumbles, brows knitting as jade eyes give your face a once-over.

eight… seven…

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

six… five…

Your heart is definitely going to burst out of your chest, that much you’re sure of.

four… three…

Dean lets out a quiet, raspy laugh.

two…

His eyes roam over your face, soft and searching.

one…

The fireworks crackle into the night, but all you can focus on is Dean’s warm hands against your flushed cheeks. He pulls you in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that steals the air from your lungs.

The world around you falls away—the cracking in the sky, the cheers from below, the chill of the night. All that matters is the way Dean’s kiss lingers, unhurried, sweet, and just a little daring.

He pulls back first, with a smile big enough to show off the dimples in his cheeks. “Guess that counts as your first New Year’s kiss. Gotta say, you’re setting the bar pretty high.”

You laugh, trying to play it cool even as your heart races. “High? That was barely a six out of ten.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “A six, huh? Alright, guess I’ve got all year to work on it.”

Your cheeks flush, but you roll your eyes. “You better bring your A-game next time, Winchester.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch again. “You ain’t seen anything yet.”

happy new year babiesss, i'm sorry if this is ass i just wanted to write reader with best friend claire and the warm fuzzy feeling of being at a hunter's party. and if the teams didn't actually tie. dont look at me i rewrote that like 5 fucking times bc i can't figure out how to tie it but i think i did idk idk idk

if ur reading this far, this post is scheduled as i am currently bartending at the clerb to about 1,000 drunk ppl pray for me lol 🫶🏽

[silassinclair]

Making up with ID! Leon after an argument? (fluff?)

Of course anon! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3 Sorry it took so long to respond I've been busy asf. Anyways this one is pretty short because I didn't really know what to write. CW// Alcoholism, Arguing, Jealousy

Masterlist Here!!

Workaholism

ID!Leon x Reader

You knew what you were getting into when you married Leon Kennedy. Whether it be helping him fight alcohol addiction or cuddling close in the midnight hour. You fell in love with every part of him and adored him for it. But sometimes he would really be a stubborn old pain in the ass. Especially right now.

"Leon I really miss you. I understand you have a really intense job but you don't have to take this mission! The mission was optional yet you took it on anyways. And in December too? I want to spend Christmas with you." You say, pouring your heart out into every word. You two have been at it for over an hour.

But there was no winning with your workahoic husband. He was as stubborn as a bull. And when he wanted things his way he would get it. But you couldn't let him win without putting up a fight, there was always a chance after all. This is for his own good. The hours he put in were unhealthy and you see the tolls it takes on his body.

"Y/n." Leon utters lowly. "I need to do this. Who else will?" He was sitting on the couch manspread; pouring himself a glass of bourbon. You've been helping him fight alcohol for years but here he is drinking right in front of you. He may as well spit on you because of how blatantly disrespectful he's being.

You're standing in front of him arms crossed and hands clenching your biceps. You're at your limit right now, there's only so much you can take. Everything feels hot; your throat, your eyes, and the grip you have on yourself.

"Leon do you not want to be with me? That you'd rather fight bioweapons than spend Christmas with you wife?"

The annoyed groan Leon lets out only makes you feel 100x worse. If this is what he wants then fine. What was the point in even trying anymore? If you two did spend Christmas together it would probably be miserable knowing his attitude.

Walking to the other end of the couch you plop down in defeat. "Forget it." You mutter. "Spending Christmas together would only make us both miserable. Just go do your job, I'll spend Christmas with someone else."

Leon turns to face you, his attention off his drink for once. "Someone else?"

You nod with an eyeroll. "Yeah, I'd rather not spend the holiday alone so I'll spend it with someone else."

"Who?" He mutters darkly.

"Well Chris is taking off so I'll spend time with him and Claire if she's available to-"

The sound of Leon's glass slamming down onto the coffee table makes you halt in your words. Leon was pissed before but now he looks downright enraged.

"No way in fucking hell am I letting my wife spend Christmas with another man." He seethes, now standing over you with either hand by the sides of your head on the couch.

You on the other hand are sitting stark still. Like one move would cause the cobra to strike.

"What else am I supposed to do then?" You say softly. Leon has never been this mad at you before and you were honestly scared.

Leon exhales through his nose slowly and shuts his eyes. "Baby do you know why I've been putting in all the extra hours?" He questions, answering your question with one of his own.

"Because you want to keep the world safe?" You mutter hesitantly. But Leon only chuckles and shakes his head back and forth. He opens his eyes and looks down at you with a crooked smile.

"Yes and no." His hand moves to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. "The world is only worth saving because you're in it. But the reason I work so much is so I can provide for you. Every cent counts because I wanna spoil you baby."

His words make you deflate. All the anger built up over the past hour from arguing has left your body.

"Leon..." You whisper; but his lips kiss yours in a soft, quick, peck and you're immediately silenced again.

"I wanna provide for you sweetness. I hate imagining you cooped up alone in this apartment while I'm out. I wanna see you in a big open kitchen just like you wanted. A living room with a grand fireplace and closet to hold all those sexy clothes I love seeing you doll yourself up in."

He sighs and looks down off to the side. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before I just... It's embarrassing. Being unable to provide for you."

You frown firmly and hold his face in place causing his blue eyes to widen.

"It's your turn to listen to me now Kennedy." You state. "Don't put yourself down like that you hear me?"

He gasps when you pull him into a hug. Your fingers rake through his silken blonde locks and your other hand rubs calming circles into his back.

"Don't ever feel like you're not doing enough for me. I don't need fancy things to be happy okay? I need you to be happy. So instead of working so hard to afford fancy shit, work less so we can spend time together. Because you're all I really want."

Leon sighs shakily and cradles the back of your head, bringing you into the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry baby... I just want what's best for you."

You reply softly, "You're what's best for me Leon."

He brings you into a passionate kiss. One the two of you have been needing for a long time. His lips taste like cheap liquor and it has you feeling tipsy. Rough hands feel down your waist and touch at the belt loops of your jeans.

"Now what was that about spending Christmas with Chris huh?" He rumbles roughly through sloppy kisses.

You part away panting to catch your breath. "That was just to get at your nerves."

Leon smirks. "Bad girl. I should teach you a lesson huh?"

[ambeauty]

You can show me 5011 different ways of Carmy caressing Claire’s face, blowing kisses, telling her she’s beautiful, kissing her nose, and nothing will ever be as romantic as Carmy literally driving himself to his wits end over the course of a season to get Sydney a star, that only she wanted in the first place, in order to prove that he is the person she needs him to be.

[jukeboxsweethearttt]

Sweet Carolina

1.Damn You

Mayor!Rafe Cameron x Lawyer!Fem Reader

Again tysm @starfxkr ❤️❤️

chapter song:Damn You|LanaDelRey

The grand ballroom of the Governor's mansion was a glittering spectacle of opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the elite of North Carolina, gathered to celebrate Rafe’s reelection. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the soft hum of elegant conversation.

You navigated the crowd with practiced ease, eyes scanning the room until they landed on him—Governor Cameron. You wore a long, silk black dress that clung to your figure in all the right places, drawing admiring glances from those you passed. Rafe stood near the grand staircase, his arm around his wife, Claire, his smile charming and practiced. As the two of your eyes met briefly, and an electric current seemed to pass between the two of you.

Rafe’s gaze lingered on you, a silent acknowledgment of your shared history. You felt a shiver run down your spine, the thrill of the forbidden connection making your heart race. You took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, using the moment to compose yourself .

As you approached, you could feel the weight of the room's attention shift. Rafe's eyes darkened with barely restrained desire, his fingers brushing lightly against yours as you came to stand beside him. The touch was fleeting, but enough to send a jolt of electricity through your body.

“Governor Cameron,” You said, voice smooth and confident. “Congratulations on your reelection.”

“Thank you, Ms. Y/L/N,” Rafe replied, his voice rich and warm. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

Claire, standing next to Rafe, smiled politely, oblivious to the charged exchange happening right under her nose. “Ms. Y/L/N, it's wonderful to see you again. How’s everything going at the firm?”

“Busy as ever, Mrs. Cameron,” You responded, smile equally polite. “But I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Claire's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I had no idea you two were so well acquainted."

"Ms. Y/L/N and I have crossed paths professionally on numerous occasions," Rafe said smoothly, his gaze never leaving yours. "She's one of the best attorneys in the state, after all."

As the conversation continued, Rafe and Y/N’s fingers brushed against each other discreetly. Each touch was a secret message, a promise of what was to come. The tension between them was palpable, and you could see Rafe's eyes darken with every subtle contact.

“Excuse me, Governor Cameron, Mrs. Cameron,” you said finally, unable to bear the tension any longer. Drifting through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest, as you made your way towards the dimly lit library, a place you knew would offer a moment of privacy.

You didn’t have to wait long before Rafe slipped into the room moments later, closing the door quietly behind him. Without a word, he crossed the room and pulled you into his arms, lips meeting in a desperate, hungry kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of power and desire that made your head spin.

The two of you stumbled against the bookshelf, bodies pressed together as the kiss deepened. Your fingers tangled in his hair, lipstick leaving a vivid red stain on his collar. The urgency of your need for each other made every touch, every kiss, feel like it might be the last.

“You know,” You whispered between kisses, “everyone thinks you and Claire are so happy together. They have no idea how miserable you both are.”

Rafe pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your neck . “We’re good at putting on a show,” he said, his voice rough with want. “But with you, it’s real. It’s always been real.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you pulled him closer, lips crashing together once more. The passion between you was undeniable, a fire that neither of you could extinguish.

As the two of you pulled away, breathless, Rafe’s eyes were dark with desire. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Before you could respond, a noise from outside the door made both of you freeze. The two of you held your breath as a shadow passed by, lingering for a moment before moving on. The figure was tall and dark, a mere silhouette in the dim light, and You felt a chill run down your spine. The person seemed to hesitate, then continued on, leaving the corridor silent once more. Unaware that they had been seen, Rafe and you let out a collective sigh of relief.

You adjusted your dress and wiped the smudged lipstick from your lips, trying to compose yourself. “You and Claire aren’t even really happy together,” you said softly. “This—what we have—is real.”

Rafe straightened his tie, his fingers brushing against the red stain you had left. “We need to be more careful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, heart still pounding. “I know.”

As you slipped out of the library, returning to the gala as if nothing had happened, my exchanging knowing glances, each aware of the risk you were taking. But the thrill of the forbidden love was a fire that neither of you could extinguish.

The night continued, the music and laughter masking the undercurrent of danger that had just been set into motion. Y/N and Rafe mingled with the guests, their secret safe for now. The world saw them as mere acquaintances, unaware of the passion and danger that lay beneath the surface.

And somewhere in the darkness, the silent observer held a secret that could change everything.

[oneforthemunny]

dripping down |dom!eddie munson x brat!reader|

prompt: after bratting all day, you take your time in the shower to make both of you late and eddie is less than pleased.

contains: dom and sub dynamics, brat tamer!eddie, mean!eddie, bratty reader, language, spanking with implement (bath brush), mentions of oral fem receiving, mentions of p in v sex. minors dni 18+

You took your time, gliding the razor over your legs slowly, watching the shaving cream foam catch and drip with every slide. The water was beginning to turn cold, the steam thick and heavy around you. You simply pushed the nozzle further, the water heating even further, boiling you even more.

"Baby," Eddie's voice was huffy, annoyed. "Are you almost done? We're supposed to be there in twenty minutes."

You huffed, ignoring him, lips pressed together in deep annoyance. Jeff and his fiancé, Kate, were celebrating moving into their own home- a tiny townhouse on the other side of Hawkins. It was a housewarming party, just with a few friends and their partners, the usual crowd. It wasn't that you didn't like Jeff or Kate, or that you didn't want to go, it was Eddie.

Since your conflicting work schedules, social events, and everything in between, you'd barely got to spend time together- alone. He'd barely fucked you all week, not for lack of trying. You were tired, or he was tired, and the times you had managed to slip in a quickie before bed or before leaving, it was half hearted and barely fulfilling. He hadn't even gone down on you since last Friday, a week ago. You were going crazy, unhinged and beyond frustrated.

At brunch this morning, with Steve and his new girlfriend, Claire, you'd tried to be a little fun, sneaking your hand over Eddie's crotch, palming him lightly through his jeans. You hadn't even managed to get the top button opened before he'd put your hand back in your own lap, a side eyed hard stare that left you pouty. You were bratty the rest of the brunch, huffy and irritable, you knew you were. But you didn't care, you really didn't.

When you'd gotten back to your apartment, later than you meant to because Eddie and Steve couldn't stop talking. You'd tried again, kissing him a little deeper than usual, hands trailing down his sides, fingers looping through his jeans. Eddie snorted lightly in the kiss, pulling back with his hands on your jaw.

"Oh, now you wanna be nice, huh?" He asked, mocking, tilting his head to the side. You bristled, nose scrunching in anger. Eddie grinned, pressing a little peck to your cheek, smacking your ass lightly. "You wanted to take a shower, right? Better go now, we gotta leave in an hour and a half, alright?"

The way he'd blown you off, sweetly but not even bothering to chastise you for brunch, not even wanting to join you in the shower. That surly feeling quickly replaced with anger, hurt. You stomped to the shower, slamming the door and locking it furiously, shoving off your clothes. He wanted to ignore you? Fine.

You'd taken your time washing your hair. Lathering, rinsing, repeating, brushing out your hair in the shower slowly, detangling slow and precise before working in your conditioner, raking it slowly in. You'd even exfoliated with your bath brush, lathering it in the body wash and scrubbing your skin raw. You'd done everything as slow as you could, precise and sluggish.

Eddie had started knocking on the door, jiggling the knob after thirty minutes. "Baby, you almost done?" You'd ignored him.

Then he'd come back, a little firmer this time. "Seriously, are you almost done? We've gotta be out of here soon and you haven't even started drying your hair."

"Oh my God, can you leave me alone, Eddie? Fuck, quit rushing me! I'll be done soon!" You snapped back, huffy and annoyed through the curtain. You turned to the spray of the shower, letting the warm water wash over your face.

"Babe, you've been in there forever, c'mon. Hurry up." Eddie huffed.

"Then you shouldn't have stayed talking to Steve so long! You knew I needed to take a shower!" You yelled, huffing in annoyance. You rolled your head in the spray of the shower.

Now, it had been well over an hour. Your fingers were pruned, Eddie was hammering on the door, shouting at you to hurry up, but you ignored him. You heard his heavy footsteps stomp away, his shouts and threats stopping, and you smirked, finally thinking you might have won.

Until you heard the scratching of the lock. Your brows furrowing, peeking around the curtain of the shower. The door bursting open, a fuming Eddie glaring at you from the door. You squeaked, ducking back behind the shower curtain, like it could protect you.

You might have miscalculated, really, you realized that when Eddie's heavy hand pushed back the curtain, the whirring of the metal of the shower rod revealing Eddie's hard expression. You watched as he slapped the water off, leaving your body dripping, and leg half shade. His eyes scanned to the bath brush that hung on the knob of the shower, gripping it tight before grabbing you with his other hand.

"Wait, Eddie, I'm almost don-"

You grunted when Eddie yanked you out, propping his knee up on the lip of the tub, holding your waist tight to him. Your hair and body dripped, shivering with the cool air mixing into the shower.

Eddie rubbed the bath brush to your wet bottom, bringing it forward with a soaked smack! that bounced off the porcelain shower walls following with your loud yelp. The brush was hard, stinging against your cheeks. Something about the water or maybe your already flushed skin from the steam made it sting so much worse.

"Ow! Eddie, stop!" You flailed, tipping forward to brace your hand on the sink.

Eddie brought the brush down again and again, slapping against your wet skin. He knew you were just being a brat, you'd been one all day, sulking and huffing and mean. He'd tried to ignore it, he knew you'd be upset with him, but he'd hoped it would make you try to please him. He hoped it would get you submissive and sweet, but it seemed to have the opposite effect, only making you worse. He had enough.

"You," Eddie grunted, smacking the brush down on your ass, the smooth, wooden end dancing off your cheeks, leaving small rounded imprints behind. "Are going to get finished now." He brought the brush down twice, hard, making you cry out. "Understand?"

You sniffled, trying to wiggle out of his hold, wet and cold from being yanked out of the shower, aching with every hit of the brush on your burning cheeks. "Understand?" Eddie growled, smacking the brush against you hard, making you yowl in pain.

"Yes!" You sobbed, back arching at the hit. "I'll be done! I'll be done!"

Eddie set the brush down, slamming it against the counter angrily. He reached over, hand smacking the water back on, the stream of the shower trickling back onto the wall. You were shoved back in, sniffling and writhing away from the cold stream.

Eddie glared harshly down at you, brows furrowed in seriousness, ignoring your rounded eyes and little sniffled as you looked up at him pathetically. He remained stern but hoped you wouldn't see the way his jeans tightened at your little pout.

He grabbed the timer from the kitchen, winding it tightly so it started to tick. "You have until that timer is done," His ringed hand pointed towards the timer winding down. "To get finished. Understand?"

You nodded, reaching back to rub your stinging cheeks, thighs pressing together. Eddie nodded. "Five minutes." He pulled the curtain back, stomping out of the bathroom.

You were done in two minutes. Finishing your shave quick, nicking yourself twice with the razor, hissing at the trickle of blood from your knee. You bandaged yourself, drying your hair quickly with the dryer, trying to multitask as best as you could, desperate to be good and forgiven by Eddie.

You'd pulled your hair back, not getting to style it the way you wanted. Every time you looked at Eddie, he would sigh dramatically, looking down at his watch, lips pursing together in feigned annoyance. You knew he was playing it up, the exaggerated disappointed role for you, but it made your tummy flip-flop, pooling with warmth in your core, going faster at the task to finish it; desperate to please.

Eddie placed his hand on your back when you left your apartment, a sweet gesture that you savored, leaning into him sweetly. He circled his arm around your waist, both of you stepping down the creaking, wooden stairs towards the van.

"You gonna be good for me tonight?" Eddie asked with a raised brow, fingers wrapped around the handle before he opened the door for you.

Your head bobbed, eyes rounding sweetly up at him. "I'll be good." You breathed, his hand on your hip. You ass still stung, burning with every rub against the rough fabric of your jeans.

Eddie nodded curtly. "You better be." He opened the door, nodding at you to get in. "If you're a good girl, I'll be good to you tonight when we get home." He leaned in, brown eyes locking with yours.

You crossed your arms, huffing lightly, rolling your eyes to look out the other window. "I'm sure you'll be too tired again." You snarked.

Eddie's tongue rolled down his cheek, eyeing you viciously. "That's what this is about, hm?" He cocked his head to the side, brow quipping.

You shrunk under his glare, squirming in your seat. You could feel the burn of your skin against your jeans, rough and scratchy on the sensitivity. "Yeah, it is." You grumbled. "We haven't had sex in forever, Eddie." You whined.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "We had sex last night, baby."

You pressed your lips together. "Barely." You muttered. "That was like bare minimum sex. It didn't count."

Eddie sighed heavily, moving his hands to cup your jaw sweetly. "If you're good tonight, I'll fuck you extra good and sweet. How you like it." He muttered, his lips moving to brush over yours. You lifted into the kiss, his grip on your jaw stopping you from kissing him fully. "If you're bad, I'll still fuck you, but it won't be how you like." His eyes darkened at the threat, seeing excited chills down your spine, straight to your pussy.

You blinked up at him, eyes rounding slightly, his nose touching yours, smushed up so you could feel his breath joined with yours on your top lip. His eyes were soft, round and brown and big in the way that made him look so innocent and sweet- deceptive really in a way. He could be very sweet, was very sweet to you, but innocent? Not so much.

"Will you eat me out if I'm good?" You asked plainly, biting back a grin when he laughed, breath caught in his throat from the surprise of your request, blunt and direct.

You smirked, the blush rising on his neck towards his ears, hidden away by the mess of curls. Eddie pulled back, shaking his head at you playfully. "Yeah, baby, I'll eat you out if you're good." He grinned, leaning on his arm on the doorway of the car. "I'll do whatever you want if you're good, promise."

You grinned smugly, pulling your seatbelt on while he shut your door. You clung to him all night, holding his hand on the drive there, arms around his waist when Jeff and Kate showed you the house. You were so sweet, sitting in his lap, only pouting when he playfully patted your ass once, letting him smother you in kisses as an apology.

You were happy and sweet and pleasant, chatting with all his friends and their partners, giggling with the boys when they told you stories about Eddie from high school that made him blush.

You were so good, which is exactly why Eddie was between your legs for the remainder of the night, your hands gripping his curls, heels digging into hi shoulders. He could see the faint marks from the bath brush, rounded and imprinted on your cheeks when he fucked you hard into the mattress, adding a smattering of his handprints to the already irritated skin while he rutted into you from behind.

[marleyybluu]

Piercings

Spooky x f!reader

Word count: 925

Warnings: Spooky being a cute daddy, talks of piercings, brief description of a child's ear being pierced, tears from both baby and dad (lol), fluff, Spooky gets a lil freaky at the end. (had to), allusions to smut. reader is not race-coded, reader speaks/understands Spanish

(not my gif. hes so fucking hot.)

“Spooky, baby, come on she’s six months. It’s easier to do it now, they say the pain won’t last as long.” You pouted at your husband. You’d been talking about piercings and earrings since you found out you were having a girl. Spooky hated it. Said you could just give her your moms old ass clip-ons and call it a day but you were not about to do your daughter like that. Plus you maaay have jumped the gun and bought lots of studs and little hoops for her.

Your husband scowled at you as he held the child in question in one hand and pushed the stroller with the other. “Pleeeease.” You begged. He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Fine,” He complied. “But I’m gonna be so pissed at you if something bad happens.” You rolled your eyes, you were sure she’d be fine. “She won’t even cry.”

“Have you seen her get a needle at the doctors? Yes she will.” He argued. But it was too late he already said yes and so you led them over to Claire’s. You browsed around until the piercer was done with her current client. Spooky smiled as his daughter’s tiny hands reached for the bow he was holding. “You already have too many bebita…. But what’s one more? Right?”

Spoiled.

While they were distracted you conversed with the piercer who assured you that the pain would be quick, she’d cry for a few seconds but she’d be completely fine after. “Yeah, try and tell my husband that. He might fight us both.” You joked. She laughed and shrugged. “All the dads are like that,” She leaned in to whisper. “Sometimes they cry more than the kids.”

Oh, you’d pay to see that.

“Just let me finish sanitizing every thing and I’ll get to you guys.”

“Alright, thanks.”

You wandered to find your little family, your daughter snug as a bug in her fathers big arms. You poked her side and she squirmed flashing you a toothless smile. “Are you ready, mi amor? We’re gonna make you look extra pretty.”

Spooky groaned. “Say Mommy I’ll always be pretty and that this idea is estúpido.” You flicked him on the back of his bald head."

"Stop teaching my child bad words."

He mocked you and flipped you off, you grabbed his finger, about to twist it off if you could but the piercer had called you guys over. You firmly planted your hand on his back and pushed him to the chair, he sat and glared at you. "Okay, so you'll sit her on your lap, one arm over her torso... like this..." She arranged his arm for him, "And hand... here." His large hand engulfing your child's head, she turned her small head to you and smiled again. "Are you ready?" You asked in your baby voice which always got her excited.

The piercer picked up her piercing gun, you cringed starting to remember what that felt like when you got your nose pierced so long ago. She gently picked up the small lobe of your daughter's ear and let it hang between the end of the earring that was jammed inside the white gun and the hole it would come through. You heard one quick click and your baby's smile turned into a frown, her tiny lip quivered and she blinked out a few tears. Her calm before the storm. Her head was turned away from you and the same thing happened, a fast click, and soon a wailing baby.

Your heart sank, maybe it was a bad idea. Your eyes met Spooky's, in them held sorrow for his baby and disdain towards you-- they were glossy and slowly reddening from his own incoming tears, he rested her head in his chest and bounced her up and down with a comforting pat on her back.

"Ohhh, mi bonita flor, I'm sorry. We're not talking to mommy anymore." He cooed kissing the top of her head. Your jaw dropped. "Oh, come oooon, Spooky."

No response. Just a look that could kill. You half-smiled. "I love you. Thank you."

He sucked his teeth and walked out of the store with your bawling baby.

-- --

The silent treatment continued when you got home, even after your daughter calmed down and forgot the whole ordeal. You held her in your arms as she slept peacefully, milk drunk as usual. Her ruby earrings sparkled as they complimented her skin tone and face shape, you smiled drawing faint circles on her arm. You felt those warm brown eyes boring into the back of your skull.

"Still mad?" You mumbled turning toward him. "Yes." He huffed. You nodded your head at your baby. "Look how fucking cute she is. Just say I was right."

Spooky leaned over to get a better look at her, her small nose twitching in her sleep. He swooned resting his hand on her little leg. "Qué bonito. Ella es hermosa." (How cute. She is beautiful.)

"Exactly." You looked down at her. "Always knew we'd make some cute ass babies."

He delivered a soft kiss to your neck, his teeth nibbling at your skin and you could feel his smile against it. "Speaking of," He kissed the back of your ear. "When we gon' start trying for another."

You gasped as he pinched your thigh with his free hand. "Oscar Diaz!"

"I got my own milf walking around, you think I can control myself?" You playfully rolled and carefully eased off the couch so as not to wake your baby. "Let me put her in her crib."

"Yes!"

something quick cus i'm high asf and I've been seeing a lot of men crying when their daughters get their ears pierced and idk I just imagined spooky lmao couldn't think of a title but if yall come up with one and i like it I'll use it

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Peace and love see you in the next one✌🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader talk about the future

based on this ask, feel free to drop some more too <3 warning: mention of pregnancy / pregnancy scare + vomit

They’d been back from Venice for nearly a month, yet y/n was still feeling the effects of travel. Drew had gotten over his “travel bug” in a week, the worst of it being a bit of a stuffy nose, yet y/n still woke up every morning like she’d been hit by a truck, her back stiff and head spinning with nausea.

“I’m gonna go pick up some breakfast from Claire’s. Usual, hm?” Drew said groggily, swinging his feet out of bed. Y/n turned over to face him as he shrugged on a pair of sweatpants before tossing on a hat over his messy, grown out hair. Y/n grinned and nodded, watching how Drew moved in the early morning sun that peaked through the curtains.

“Alright, I’ll be right back. Love you.” He said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before heading out the bedroom door. Nearly as soon as she heard the front door close, y/n jumped to her feet and rushed into the bathroom, just barely making it in time before she threw up, her head pounding. She ran a hand through her bed head, smoothing it out of her face as she leaned against the wall of the bathroom.

Having enough, she pulled out her phone, scrolling through her calendar to see when she’d be free to go to the doctor this week. However, she could feel her already nauseous stomach drop even further once she noticed the red dot on her calendar from nearly two weeks ago…

“Shit.” She said aloud. She was supposed to have her period two weeks ago. That fact along with how awful she had been feeling the past month, with Drew feeling just fine, caused her mind to race…

“Shit!” Y/n shouted even louder as she started to clamor through the cabinet under the bathroom sink. She had bought a package of pregnancy tests months ago, always paranoid despite the fact that the couple was always very careful… right?

The two of them had talked before, and after getting married, they knew they wanted to have kids. It was something they were both excited about, in fact. But now? When Drew’s career was just taking off, she had just gotten a call-back from a project she was really excited about, a new season of Outer Banks was coming out, and countless other things plaguing their very busy lives at the moment? Now, she wasn’t sure.

She finally found the package, reading over it quickly, before using it. Y/n sat it on the counter, her hands trembling and heart pounding, before starting a timer for fifteen minutes. She stood there, chewing at her nails anxiously until she heard Charleston barking along with Drew’s voice. She had been hoping to be finished before he got back, to ready herself whatever the result may be before she had to face him.

“Breakfast is served!” Drew shouted from the kitchen. Y/n steadied herself for a moment, checking the timer again. She still had about ten minutes, too much time for her to stay in there without Drew coming to check on her. As much as she appreciated his attentive nature, right now she was cursing him and his kind spirit. With a deep breath, she went out into the kitchen. Drew sat at the bar, sipping his coffee and petting Charleston’s head.

“You alright, baby?” Drew said, his eyes scanning over y/n’s tension-riddled body. She shook her head, waving him off as she sat down next to him.

“Just still not feeling well. Headache.” Y/n said, taking a bite of the bagel Drew had picked up. She chewed it slowly, her nausea combined with anxiety diminishing her appetite. She took a sip of her coffee, the caffeine helping some of the pounding in her head subside but not helping in any sort to ease her nerves. Charleston sat his head on her lap, his eyes looking up at her widely. She rubbed his ears, smiling softly as the dog’s tail wagged.

“Did you take anything?” Drew asked, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.

“No, not yet.” Y/n said, looking back up at him. Drew wiped his mouth with a napkin before getting out of his chair.

“I’ll get you some ibuprofen.” He said, heading towards their bathroom. Y/n stayed there for a second, slowly eating before things clicked in her mind. She scrambled out of her seat, running into the bathroom.

“Drew wait—” Y/n turned into the doorway, but she was too late. Drew stood in front of the sink, his eyes trained on the small piece of pink plastic in his hand.

“You… you don’t think?” Drew said quietly, turning to face her, his eyes wide.

“I– I didn’t— I don’t know.” Y/n whispered, feeling her eyes begin to well up with tears. Drew placed the test back on the counter, wrapping his arms around her as she began to cry.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.” Drew said into her hair, his hands soothing her back. They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other's embrace, the only sound y/n’s soft cries until her phone timer went off. They stepped back from each other, y/n’s entire body shaking with anxiety. She was scared, terrified, of what was going to happen next. For them, their future… their family.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Drew said softly, placing his hands gently on y/n’s cheeks. She looked back at him, her eyes still filled with tears. Despite his stoic demeanor, y/n could tell Drew was probably as scared as she was at that moment.

“No matter what that says, I love you and we’re going to be ok, alright?” Drew whispered, his thumb soothing her tear streaked cheeks. Y/n nodded before looking towards the counter where the test sat.

We’re going to be alright.

Her heart pounded as she looked at the test: negative.

She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding, her body nearly falling to the ground as relief washed over her. Drew hugged her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Oh, thank god. I wasn’t— I didn’t—” Y/n stammered, but was interrupted when Drew pressed his lips to hers.

“I know, baby. Not yet.” He said as he pulled away, still holding her closely. He turned back towards the cabinet, digging for a second before handing her an ibuprofen. She took it from him with a slight laugh.

“Almost forgot the reason I came in here.” Drew joked, shaking y/n’s shoulders gently as they walked back towards the kitchen.

“Thank you, Drew.” Y/n said as they sat back down, taking Drew’s hand gently. He ran his thumb along the back of her hand, smiling back at her softly.

“Don’t thank me for anything. It was almost my fault you were in the situation in the first place.” Drew said, a smirk cracking onto his face. Y/n elbowed him, returning back to her breakfast with a grin.

“Well, hopefully the next time that happens we’re much more prepared.” Y/n said, chewing on her bagel.

“We will. Don’t you worry,” Drew said, kissing her hand softly. “Next time we will be much, much more prepared… and hoping for a bit of a different result.”

[crsssie]

its the most wonderful time of the year

decorating home/sickfic/civilian!reader || LSS gift for @delphi-shield

Summary: deck the home with warmth and laughter, falalalalalalalala

"Really, Claire. It's fine." You wrap the garland around the porch. "He's busy. I get it."

"Yeah, but it's not really an excuse for it." She mumbles. "I'm sorry, I really did try and convince them."

"It's alright." You sniffle. "I'll just rest up at home. Even if he comes late, it's fine." 

"And you're working up a cold! Ugh. Where's the man of the house when he's supposed to be helping you?" She mumbles. "I'd drop by, but Chris is kind of..."

"It's fine." You laugh. "I'm not dying."

"Are you sure? It's so snowy in the neighborhoods. Isn't the snow stacked up already where you are? And you're out on the porch? Ugh, wish there was an HOA service for shoveling snow off the driveways. They only do the streets." She sighs. "Oh, Chris is calling. Call me if you need anything! Happy Holidays!"

"Happy Holidays." You laugh. "See you around."

You sneeze as soon as the call ends, and you glance at the finished porch. 

Really, it's a shame Leon isn't coming home until a little bit later. It's cold and lonely alone, but you suppose you knew it was coming when you first got married to him.

The ring makes your ring finger feel extra cold. Stupid metal.

You kick the plastic box back inside and shut the door, glancing one last time at the wall of snow that's built up around your porch. Even if Leon wanted to come home, he'd probably have to stay out. No way he would be able to get through all that snow. 

You reach for the mistletoe and get the hook ready, humming slowly to yourself as you twist the hook into the hole as you peel back the tape. A fun little tradition. Most couples walked in together anyway, and on occasion there would be two unfortunate souls. It's not like you were really enforcing it as a rule anyway. You bring a folded chair over to get the final bit of the screw into the door.

The mistletoe glimmers under the houselights, and you step down from the chair after hooking it on.

The front door jingles with the sound of keys, and you spin around with the chair in hand to a sight of a very sweaty Leon and a hole in the snow.

"What— oh, oh my god? What? HELLO? HI?!" You gasp, tossing the chair as your arms find themselves around Leon's neck, and he laughs, squeezing you back. "How did you get here? You're supposed to be back tomorrow? What?!" 

Leon's laugh rumbles through his chest to yours, and he rests his cheek in the crook of your shoulder. "Hi sweetheart."

"Oh my god!" You pinch at his cheek, eyes sparkling as he hums. "Did you dig through the snow? Honey, we're snowed in!"

He glances up at the mistletoe and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

"You were snowed in. Nothing stops a man from getting to his spouse." He hums, raising a brow at the color on your nose. "Have you been sniffling?"

"A little. Just winter chills."

"Oh, sweetheart." He mumbles, hauling you up into his arms as you yell.

"Wait, wait, Leon the chair."

"No. I was about to start on the tree since I finished the porch."

"I'll deal with that later." He hums. "I'll shovel out the driveway too. Did you run up a fever?"

"No, just chills. I'm just congested and sniffly." You hum, and he presses his forehead to yours.

"You're fine. At least you're not burning up. Did you make yourself a cup of tea?"

"Leon, I'll be fine. I just need—"

"I'll get you a cup of tea, light the fireplace, and then you can tell me which ornaments go on the tree." He hums. "I know where the box is. I'm horrible at driving, not cooking."

"I'm shocked you didn't crash the car in the snow."

"Almost did."

"What."

"I couldn't possibly die before I get to see you for Christmas again." He hums.

"And if I get you sick?"

"Then hot tea on the couch for us both with the fireplace and TV on."

"Sounds fun." You sniffle. "Not the part where you get sick, though. I think I'll be fine."

"You want me to get you some ginger?"

You grimace. "...sure."

Leon hands you a glass of tea and bundles you up as he sits on the ground, pulling out ornaments from the box.

"Which ones are you feeling?"

"Shouldn't you shower first?"

"I'm clean, sweetheart. I swear." He hums. "It wasn't a mission this time. Showered at the gym before I came."

You sigh, humming as you press the tea to your lips. "I want the white ornaments."

"A boring white christmas?"

"The house is set up with white and blue this year for some reason. Maybe that's what I'm leaning towards."

"Thoughts on gold?"

"Yes."

"Thoughts on green."

"Too many colors." You hum. "Gold white and blue."

"Sounds good. No silver?"

"No. Need something warm." You hum. "The gold is a nice pop."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart." He hums. "You got a placement you want?"

"Nah. Put em where you think they look good."

Leon hangs the ornaments up, the crystal ones he got for each year on display next to them, and the crystal droplets he had made a while back when he had been bored at home over break. Leon does a lot around the house, and it seems he found joy in making things for fun. 

The mug in your hand warms your heart as you watch Leon hang everything up and look back at you for nods of encouragement and hums of approval.

"Look good?"

"Looks wonderful." You hum quietly to yourself. "Nicely done, Leon."

He walks around the couch with the box, not forgetting to lean down and catch a quick kiss before he puts everything back into storage.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Do you want anything for dinner? Did you eat already?"

"I had dinner already." You hum. "Leftovers are in the fridge."

"Alright."

You huddle on the couch and turn the TV on, catching up on a show you had missed out on while decoration, humming as Leon heats the food in the back.

"Food on the couch?"

"As long as you don't stain." You hum, throwing the blanket over his legs as you lean on him. "Anything fun happen at work?"

"Nah. Just the usual. I'm offended the president made me stay behind just to toast me in private."

"It's an honor, honey."

"Yes, but it's the handful of days before Christmas." Leon mumbles. "I'd like to spend time with you for as long as possible before they send me back to the middle of nowhere."

"Fair." You hum. 

"Did you open today's advent calendar?"

You blink at him, and he raises a brow back at you.

"Day... twenty five?"

"Merry Christmas, baby." He laughs, kicking off the blanket and putting his plate of food down. 

He hands you a box, and you raise a brow. "gold bars."

"Guess again."

"Plane tickets."

"God, how the hell do you even guess shit like that?!"

"Plane tickets?!" You gasp, tearing the envelope open as you scream. "Where the hell are you flying us?"

"To your retirement home. It's bingo time for you, sweetheart."

"Leon Scott Kennedy, if anything, you're the one who'll be stuck in a retirement home." You huff. "You and your broken joints."

"It's a box, sweetheart."

"Is it a plush." You hum, opening the box as you gasp. A weighted pokemon?!" 

Leon nods. "Saw you looking at them."

"Did you stalk down my amazon wishlist?"

He averts his eyes, and you laugh. 

"I have a gift for you too, honey."

"Is it a new watch?"

"You might want to check the garage." You kick at the blanket and take your mug with you. Leon stops to wrap the blanket around you before tugging you along with him.

"You got me something to crash again?"

"Maybe." You hum. "You'll live. Your health insurance covers everything."

"Aren't you happy one of us risks our life in our day to day to pay little to nothing for insurance?"

"Fuck, yeah." You hit the lights to the garage as Leon opens the door, and he blinks.

"My bike?"

"Not yours, but the same model and everything. I found it while I was—"

Leon wraps his arms around you, forcing the arm with the hot tea to the side as he takes it from you, letting you wrap your arms back around him. 

"You like it?"

"I love it, baby." He mumbles. "You wonderful thing. Love you so much."

"Love you too." You hum. "I bought full coverage insurance, so they'll replace it if you crash it again."

"God, I think I must've done something better than save Ashley in a past life or something." He mumbles into your skin as you laugh.

"Maybe you were a survivor of war or something." You hum, running your hand through his hair. "You like it?"

"I love it, sweetheart. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Leon."

@leonsecretsanta 2024 ❤️

[arrowfleur]

✩‧₊˚ Redacted HC’s ✩‧

I’ve been pretty shit at writing and posting this past year, which is crappy because I enjoy it so I wanted to do something that was less pressure than writing fics but could still make people happy. I’ve put every main redacted couple - plus a few extras - on a spin wheel and will be writing a long list of HC’s each day depending on who I get :)

Anyways, Part 1: Lasko and Dear

Dear loves thrifting but they didn’t want to take Lasko with them at first in case he found something they wanted, before they did. Now they borrow each others clothes so it wouldn’t matter anyway.

When they eventually took him he spent the entire time trying to find things they liked.

Dear has two toned hair

Lasko has never stopped thinking that dear is the coolest person to ever walk the earth, ever.

Sometimes dear wears colour contacts for fun

Both of them have a pocket watch on a chain

For their first anniversary Dear bought Lasko a locket, with a picture of the entire Damn Squad in it.

He added a photo of them to the other side

Dear has pet rats, they take such good care of them and their cage is huge

Lasko was slightly weary at first but he warmed up to them pretty well

Dear is very good at fixing things.

One of the first times they went to his apartment, his Ac broke. Dear just calmly listened to his apologetic rant about it before asking where the toolbox was.

Dear has tattoos behind their ears

Lasko is very good at saving but he’s not tight and always tries to pay for the whole table.

Very rarely has he succeeded

Dear has a collection of paper boy hats.

Lasko wears earmuffs when it’s cold because he always gets earaches

Dear has curled their hair with coke cans before

They love old black and white movies

Lasko likes really crappy b-movies

Can’t be let down if you know it’s going to be bad before it starts

Dear can keep up very well with Damien’s academic discussions and sometimes debates him just for the sake of it. Damien enjoys the challenge.

Dear is not the biggest Christmas enjoyer but this year they’re looking forward to it.

Lasko has booked a couple of Christmas markets for them

Dear HATES the idea of a cruise. Not because of the ocean but because they can’t get off the boat once it sets off.

Lasko always takes those little pots of jam and the little shampoo/conditioner bottles whenever he goes to a hotel

Neither of them can ice skate well whatsoever

Lasko has and will continue to use those little penguins meant for children. Dear finds it fucking hilarious all while they’re clinging to the side of the rink themselves

They share grandpa jumpers

When they first started dating, dear would pretend to forget their lanyard so that lasko would have to go down and let them in.

They both wear lots of rings and love playing with each others hands

Lasko used to wear those fake glasses from Claire’s

Dear is so casually flirty with Lasko that he thought it was just their personality at first

That’s why they eventually just had to go into his office and straight up ask him out

Dear kisses Lasko’s nose often, especially when they’re saying goodbye to each other or he’s severely overthinking

Dear really enjoys those mugs that change colour when you put hot water in them

Lasko has an entire cupboard dedicated to board games

Dear was delighted

Dear reads random niche comics and webtoons

And they have a lot of figurines

Lasko is an unsweetened oat milk enjoyer!!

Dear inhales food like it’s nobody’s business

It doesn’t last five minutes on their plate

They also never get indigestion

Their go-to cocktail is an old fashioned

Lasko hates it

Dear will simply repeat what Lasko says in a teasing tone to fluster him

Or they’ll just randomly start acting like the weirdest story is sexy.

‘And then he, he told me they’d have to charge me more for these stupid tires that I didn’t even ask for!’

‘ and what did you say? 😏

‘Well I- I told him,

‘ did you stick up for yourself? 😏😏

‘ well I told him I wasn’t going to pay for it’

*dear looking him up and down’

‘Good job, I don’t like it when other play dirty with you’

And they’re making out, Lasko doesn’t know how they do it they just have a way. It literally doesn’t even make sense.

Lasko’s hair grows incredibly quick. He shaves ALOT.

His skins is also so beautiful, it’s so soft and clear and glowy.

Dear has acne scars and they do little skincare nights together but Lasko thinks they’re HOT AS FUCK

Okay that’s all, also my proof that I got these guys first

[sassenach77yle]

“You won’t leave me?” I asked at last. “You won’t die?” He shook his head, and squeezed my hand tight.

“You are my courage, as I am your conscience,” he whispered. “You are my heart—and I your compassion. We are neither of us whole, alone. Do ye not know that, Sassenach?”

“I do know that,” I said, and my voice shook. “That’s why I’m so afraid. I don’t want to be half a person again, I can’t bear it.” He thumbed a lock of hair off my wet cheek, and pulled me into his arms, so close that I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He was so solid, so alive, ruddy hair curling gold against bare skin. And yet I had held him so before—and lost him.His hand touched my cheek, warm despite the dampness of my skin. “But do ye not see how verra small a thing is the notion of death, between us two, Claire?” he whispered. My hands curled into fists against his chest. No, I didn’t think it a small thing at all. “All the time after ye left me, after Culloden—I was dead then, was I not?” “I thought you were. That’s why I—oh.” I took a deep, tremulous breath, and he nodded. “Two hundred years from now, I shall most certainly be dead, Sassenach,” he said. He smiled crookedly. “Be it Indians, wild beasts, a plague, the hangman’s rope, or only the blessing of auld age—I will be dead.” “Yes.” “And while ye were there—in your own time—I was dead, no?” I nodded, wordless. Even now, I could look back and see the abyss of despair into which that parting had dropped me, and from which I had climbed, one painful inch at a time.Now I stood with him again upon the summit of life, and could not contemplate descent. He reached down and plucked a stalk of grass, spreading the soft green beards between his fingers. “ ‘Man is like the grass of the field,’ ” he quoted softly, brushing the slender stem over my knuckles, where they rested against his chest. “ ‘Today it blooms; tomorrow it withers and is cast into the oven.’ ” He lifted the silky green tuft to his lips and kissed it, then touched it gently to my mouth.

“I was dead, my Sassenach—and yet all that time, I loved you.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the tickle of the grass on my lips, light as the touch of sun and air. “I loved you, too,” I whispered. “I always will.” The grass fell away. Eyes still closed, I felt him lean toward me, and his mouth on mine, warm as sun, light as air.

“So long as my body lives, and yours—we are one flesh,” he whispered. His fingers touched me, hair and chin and neck and breast, and I breathed his breath and felt him solid under my hand. Then I lay with my head on his shoulder, the strength of him supporting me, the words deep and soft in his chest. “And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours. Claire—I swear by my hope of heaven, I will not be parted from you.”

The wind stirred the leaves of the chestnut trees nearby, and the scents of late summer rose up rich around us; pine and grass and strawberries, sun-warmed stone and cool water, and the sharp, musky smell of his body next to mine.

“Nothing is lost, Sassenach; only changed.”

“That’s the first law of thermodynamics,” I said, wiping my nose.

“No,” he said. “That’s faith.”

Cap 16 THE FIRST LAW OF THERMODYNAMICS~ DRUMS OF AUTUMN