#oh how i want them to talk it out clearly

[hhmnya]

ㅤ ꢾ꣒ㅤㅤ SECRET SANTA──PSH.

resumen ｡｡ he gives you a second gift.

( 성훈 ) femreader ㅤㅤ✦ㅤㅤ 619wc implied friends to lovers ㅤ──ㅤ w not proofread

you step outside of jake's apartment building, pulling your coat tighter around you once the cold air hits your face. you stand on the curb, waiting for your uber as you stare up at the sky.

secret santa: a classic christmas game, one that your friends decided to do before you all left to your hometowns. you had gotten yeojin, buying her a weighted blanket. eventually you were the last one without torn up wrapping paper around your area and the only person yet to give a gift was sunghoon.

he handed you a small box, wrapped so pretty that you almost didn't want to tear the paper. you did, though, and inside was a bracelet. which you immediately recognized as an expensive necklace, definitely not within the fifty dollar budget the group had decided on.

a smile takes over your face when you remember the shy look sunghoon had given you, his cheeks flushed red while your friends scolded him for buying something out of budget.

"you're not cold?" you turn towards the voice, flinching out of surprise. you glance up and glare at the man standing next to you.

"oh my god, you scared the fuck out of me," he laughs, backing away as you hit his shoulder. regretting the action, you stuff your hands back into your coat pockets to warm them up and mumble quietly, "you're actually awful, sunghoon."

"i'm not that bad. i spoiled you today."

you tilt your head in confusion before you smile in realization, "oh, you did. it's pretty, by the way. thank you."

he hums, letting the conversation die out. the two of you stand silently in the cold, but it's not uncomfortable. that's what you like about sunghoon—he's the kind of person you don't have to be constantly talking to, he provides you with the kind of comfort that hot chocolate does on a snowy day.

"there's a second part to your gift," he says, breaking the silence. he kicks at the ground roughly, avoiding your gaze.

"what do you mean?"

"the necklace isn't the only thing i'm giving you."

"wait—hello? how much did you spend on me?"

"i only spent money on the necklace."

you don’t follow, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. maybe you’re just oblivious, but you have no idea what he's talking about. he's giving you two gifts, but one of them was free? that makes zero sense in your mind.

"i like you," he says it with so much confidence, like it was the most simple and obvious thing in the world. it makes you feel like you should've known this whole time.

you're in a daze and by the time you get a hold of yourself, your uber pulls up, a notification going off on your phone to alert you.

you don't notice—too distracted—when sunghoon glances at the license plate, storing it away in his mind just in case.

"you should go, it's late," he guides you to the car, opening it for you.

well that's just unfair—he's pushing you away, clearly avoiding your reply to his confession. his confidence was obviously an act he put up.

rolling your eyes, you lean up and place a kiss on his cheek. courtesy of the streetlights, you can see sunghoon's cheeks turning redder with every passing second.

"i'll see you next week. maybe we can hang out?" you shift nervously, looking up at him expectantly.

he nods immediately, the biggest grin you've ever seen spreading across his face—he looks like a kid who's just gotten his dream gift.

"yeah, yeah. definitely."

when your uber drives away, you freak out in the most discreet way possible. this was genuinely the best christmas you've had in a long time.

anna's note. happy holidays guys ily all and i especially love hoon :3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ click4more.

[cinnamanz]

# HEAD OVER HEELS .ᐟ — yu jimin

pairing — yu jimin x female reader

after most of her relationships ending up in heartbreak, jimin foolishly swore to never fall in love again. you, of course, just had to charm her.

"god, what the fuck am i doing here?" truly, jimin didn't know how she got here, getting dragged out of her bed and thrown in minjeong's back seat like some modern day kidnapping. “of all places?”

minjeong only sends her a small smile, eyes flitting over to where the school's volleyball team warmed up before the last match of the regionals. "you needed to get out of bed. thank me later."

jimin rolls her eyes as ningning and aeri arrive with popcorn in hand, passing them to a beaming minjeong along with her wallet. "oh, you're here! what a miracle!"

"oh, please." jimin shrugs off a laughing aeri, while ningning scans the older's outfit, baggy sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, along with her glasses and hair pulled up into a messy bun.

ningning clears her throat. "so... how- how are you dealing with all... this?" the break-up was recent, a mere two days ago, and clearly, jimin wasn’t taking it well. everyone around her treaded carefully with the situation and handled it like a fragile piece of glass, and she’d had enough.

“shit. but i— ugh, i don’t want to talk about it right now.” jimin responded, noting how the court in front of her was the finals game of the volleyball season, the famed university they went to playing against their notorious rival. “let’s just watch this. that’s why you brought me here.”

minjeong nodded in understanding, though the rest of the girls seemed concerned and stared at her for about a few seconds before following suit, ningning already reaching in the bowl of popcorn in her hand, before passing it along. “who do you think’s going to win?”

minjeong hummed as she grabbed a handful of popcorn while aeri scrolled through her phone, snapping a quick photo of the court and posting it on her story. “i think we’ve got this in the bag. we did well throughout the season.”

“mm, but we’re talking about—” as the two droned on about volleyball, jimin couldn’t help but be zoned in on the player with her hair up into a ponytail, swept back tightly as the ball between her hands spun and was sent flying through the air and across the other side of the court, a loud bang echoong in the gym.

“hey, who is that?” the words have left her mouth before she could fully realise that she’d stood up from her seat and leaned over the railing, peering down at the player.

“hm? oh, her?” a small smile stretched itself across minjeong’s lips. “that’s y/n kim. vice captain of the volleyball team and right-side hitter. she’s got a mean right arm.”

“huh.”

“why, interested in her?” aeri’s voice pipes up as her eyes raked over jimin’s figure that leant over the railing, looking wholly interested in the warm-up session. “i’ll give it to you, jimin. you’ve got great taste. but… y/n, hmm, how do i put this? y/n is kind of your cliché jock. she’s real sweet though.”

ningning’s lips puckered into an ‘o’ shape, fingers snapping. “oh, right! you had that month long situationship!”

jimin raised a brow. “you did? how come i’m only hearing about this now?”

ningning flashes a sheepish smile. “well, we kind of were keeping it in the down-low.” god, this was interesting. but jimin would rather die than admit that she’d found ningning’s situationship with you (who she thinks is quite attractive) morbidly intriguiing. the girl’s had a lot of them, so why should the one with you be any different?

“see, the whole time we were talking—”

“heads!”

oh, shit.

pacing in front of the nurse’s office with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, you couldn’t help but grimace at the sight of the nurse’s ice pack pressed on the back of jimin’s head. god, you did damage.

“i am so, so, sorry. i didn’t mean to hit you, nor did i know that the ball was going to bounce off the floor too hard and hit you on the back of your head.” you’d rushed out in a breath, all panicked and— it’s kinda cute.

“it’s fine.” jimin had dismissed your words like it was nothing, which it probably was or she was just so sick of your antsy behaviour and the hit on her head had taken a massive toll on her that she wasn’t bothered at all to do anything about the forming lump on her skin. ouch.

“really. calm down.” god, who knew that when minjeong had dragged her out of the house and flung her into her backseat that she’d end up sitting in the nurse’s office longer than she’d stayed at the gym.

“i’m just— this has never happened before and i feel so bad because it looked like it hurt and—”

“—y/n, calm down. i’m fine. you need to take deep breaths.” what was meant to be a simple statement ended up with the other girl obeying, earning a raised brow from her. why are you obedient? it was odd, or maybe she’s just been around too much distasteful mem that such a simple action made her heart warm.

“i’ll stay here with you until you’re feeling better.” you’d mumbled after taking deep breaths, pulling up a chair and sitting near the edge of the chair.

“what? you’re going to miss the game! and it’s against our rival school—”

“— it’s fine. i’d rather look after someone i injured than play against those egotistical bastards.” your eyes are sparkling and oh my god why do you look like a golden retriever? no wonder aeri had interest in you.

she huffs. “fine. have it your way.”

your team ended up losing that night by just a smidge. though, on the bright side, you got a pretty girl’s number!

“this is the third time this week.”

“maybe she likes you.”

“or she feels bad about hurting you?”

“no, i think it’s because she likes jimin.”

“guys, please.” jimin raises a hand to quiet to girls, shoving the chocolate box and flowers in her bag as she slammed her locker shut, hastily speedwalking down the hallway.

“hey— jimin, wait up!” the three struggled to keep up with jimin’s pace, who was seemingly eager to get out of school the moment the bell rang, feet gliding across the polished floors like a woman on a mission. which she was, in a way.

“why are you walking so fast—”

oh, you’re there. oh god, you’re there.

you leant on the side of your motorcycle, looking like every other walking toxic red flags yet something from the way you’d perked up upon seeing her enter your line of vision made you a whole lot distinguishable from the rest.

“jimin!” oh, god. oh, hell no. god, you smell good. wait, you’re right in front of her?! “care for a ride?” and how is she supposed to say no to that?

you’d been driving around for twenty minutes now, her arm still wound tightly around your waist as she pressed her body against your back, heart pounding harshly against her ribcage and she couldn’t differentiate if it was from the fast pace that you’re cruising the highway on or from the lack of promixity between your bodies.

after what seemed like ages, you’d come to a slow stop and her arms slowly unravelled around your mid-section, standing on wobbly legs as she struggled to hold in the puke from the fast speed. oh god, jimin. keep it in.

she was too busy trying to keep her lunch in her stomach that she’d failed to notice you setting up a picnic under the tree that overlooked the hill they were on, shooting her an oh-so-sweet smile that she’d flopped onto the fabric like a fish out of water.

god, the view was gorgeous. “uh, i brought you here because i still feel bad about hitting you with that volleyball.” you don’t really beat about the bush, huh? “and i was hoping that bringing you here and asking if i could continue to keep giving you flowers and chocolates would make up for that night?”

jimin blinks, the situation all too sudden yet somehow exhilarating with the way you were practically *fussing* over her while she’s too busy flushing and struggling to get ahold of her shit. “i, uh, sure.”

“great!” there’s that smile.

days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and oh, before jimin knew it, she’s horribly head over heels for you. no wonder you attracted so many people. you were so incredibly addicting that once she got a taste, she couldn’t get enough.

fuck. no, no, no, no. she can’t fall in love again. no, it’ll just end up like last time. no, but you’re so sweet, and nice, and caring— but the last guys were like you too. the only difference is, you’re not a guy. you’re not some foolish guy who’ll play around with her feelings and give her false hope. you’re actually considerate, and you actually care about what she thinks, and you actually put her first for once in her life.

god, this is quite literally the bare minimum and, what the fuck is that beeping?

jimin heaves a deep gasp and wakes up, body taut as she sat up hastily on the bed, space empty beside her, wide eyes blinking as she was left to simmer in silence before tears built up in her eyes and oh, she’s crying. were you all just a dream?

the door creaks open and you walked in, dressed in the baggy pyjama she’d bought you a few months ago for your birthday, your lips parting for a yawn that was interrupted upon seeing her figure swaddled in blankets that stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights, tears drying just a bit. “jimin?”

you were here. you were here with her, with your arms wrapped around her body and comforting her, whispering the sweetest of nonsense as she melted against you. christ, she’s horribly head over heels.

guys i'm not gna lie to yall rn but idek what this oneshot what supposed to be. i js like of sat in the couch and js started typing whatever came to mind.

masterlist.

[lila-lou]

✨Family✨

Summary: This Christmas is your first with Emily, Beau’s teenage daughter. Between her shy smiles and sharp wit, she’s learning to trust you, and you’re creating a home together.

-Christmas Special-

Pairing: Beau x Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 3377

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. ❤️

The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts, filling the air with a cozy warmth that made the chill of the Montana winter seem far away. Emily stood next to you, carefully arranging cookies on a tray. Her focus was intense, her tongue poking out slightly as she concentrated on making each cookie look just right. It was the kind of detail about her that always made you smile—a reminder that, even at sixteen, she still had that playful spark beneath her teenage independence.

“You think Dad’s gonna notice if I sneak one of these?”, she asked, glancing at you with a sly grin.

You laughed, rolling out another batch of dough. “Oh, he’ll notice. Beau’s got a sixth sense when it comes to cookies. Besides, don’t you want to save some for tonight?”.

Emily groaned dramatically, clearly unimpressed with your reasoning. “Fine. But the gingerbread man with the crooked smile is mine. Calling it now”.

Through the frosted kitchen window, you could see Beau and Cole outside in the snow. Your three-year-old son was bundled up so tightly in his navy-blue coat and matching hat that he looked like a tiny snowball himself. He was giggling uncontrollably as Beau helped him roll a massive snowball for the base of their snowman. Beau’s laughter was just as loud, echoing across the yard, a warm contrast to the cold landscape. You could see the way his breath fogged in the air as he crouched down, ruffling Cole’s hair every time he clapped his mittens together in excitement.

Emily noticed you watching them and sighed, setting the spatula down. “They’re having way more fun than we are. Why do we get kitchen duty?”.

You smirked and nudged her playfully with your elbow. “Because you agreed cookies were more important than frostbite”.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “That was before I realized how boring baking is. I don’t know how you do this for fun”.

“It’s not boring if you put your heart into it”, you teased. “Besides, you can’t tell me those cookies don’t look amazing. You’re doing great”.

Emily looked at the tray, a hint of pride creeping into her expression. “Yeah, I guess they do. And I’ll admit… it’s kinda nice being here”. Her voice softened at the end, almost like she was testing the words out.

You paused, glancing at her carefully. It hadn’t been an easy adjustment for Emily. This was her first Christmas with you, Beau, and Cole—her first away from her mom. While she didn’t talk about it much, you could tell it weighed on her. The little things gave her away: the far-off look she got sometimes, the way she’d hesitate before fully relaxing around you.

“I’m glad you’re here”, you said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s different, but it wouldn’t feel right without you”.

Emily shrugged, but you caught the flicker of a smile. “Thanks. I mean, it’s not bad or anything… I just—”. She stopped herself and focused back on the cookies. “It’s nice to feel like part of something, you know?”.

Your heart ached for her in that moment. She’d been through so much this past year, but she’d held it together with a strength that amazed you. “You are part of something”, you said gently. “And we wouldn’t trade you for the world”.

Emily didn’t respond, but her shoulders relaxed just a little, and that was enough.

Outside, Beau lifted Cole onto his shoulders, spinning him around as the little boy shouted with glee. The snowman project had apparently been abandoned in favor of an impromptu snowball fight, with Beau pretending to dodge the tiny handfuls of snow Cole tossed at him. The sight made you laugh, and Emily turned to the window, her expression softening as she watched her dad and Cole.

“They’re such dorks”, she said, but there was no malice in her voice—just affection.

“That they are”, you agreed, sliding the tray of cookies into the oven. “But they’re our dorks”.

Emily smiled, a small, genuine one that made you feel like maybe things were starting to fall into place. This Christmas might not be what any of you had imagined, but for the first time, it felt like the start of something real, something good.

Eventually, you set the rolling pin down, brushing flour off your hands as a mischievous grin spread across your face. Emily looked up, raising a curious brow.

“What?”, she asked, watching as you wiped your hands on a towel.

You nodded toward the door, your grin growing. “Come on”, you said, a playful spark in your voice. “Let’s show them what a real snowball fight looks like”.

Emily’s face lit up, and for the first time all day, she looked completely carefree. “Oh, you’re on”, she said, already tugging her sleeves down to head for her coat.

The two of you quickly bundled up, Emily grabbing a pair of mismatched gloves and tugging them on as you zipped up your jacket. The moment you stepped outside, the icy air nipped at your cheeks, but the laughter from Beau and Cole made it easy to forget the cold. They were crouched behind a pile of snow, clearly in the middle of their “battle”. Cole had a snowball in each hand, and Beau was dramatically shielding himself, shouting, “Mercy! Mercy!”, as Cole pelted him with what looked like more powder than ice.

“They’re not even going to see it coming”, you whispered to Emily, who crouched beside you, already scooping up a handful of snow.

“Divide and conquer?”, she suggested, her grin matching yours.

“Always”, you replied.

Together, you moved swiftly, using the yard’s uneven snow piles as cover. You watched as Emily targeted Beau first, her snowball hitting him square in the shoulder. He whipped around, stunned.

“What the—”, he started, before you launched your own snowball, catching him in the chest.

“Reinforcements?!”, Beau shouted, laughing as he scrambled to grab snow. “Oh, you two are in trouble now!”.

Cole, catching on to the new dynamic, screamed with delight. “Get ‘em, Daddy!”.

But Emily was fast. She ducked behind a snowbank, expertly avoiding Beau’s counterattack. Meanwhile, you were busy distracting him, tossing snowball after snowball, laughing so hard you could barely aim.

“You think you can take me down?”, Beau called, his Southern drawl coming out in full force as he lobbed a snowball in your direction. “I’m the king of snowball fights!”.

“King? You’ve already been dethroned!”, you shouted back, dodging his throw and quickly crafting another snowball.

Emily, ever the opportunist, took advantage of Beau’s focus on you. She came out of nowhere, launching a snowball right at the back of his head. The soft thud of snow hitting his hat was met with a stunned silence before he turned slowly, his mouth open in mock betrayal.

“Et tu, Emily?”, he said dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded.

“Every man—or dad—for himself!”, Emily shouted, laughing so hard she could barely keep her balance.

Meanwhile, Cole was toddling over to you with his own version of a snowball, which was really just a clump of powdery fluff. He tossed it at your leg, giggling uncontrollably. “Gotcha, Mommy!”.

“Oh no, I’m hit!”, you cried, pretending to stumble backward into the snow. Cole squealed with joy, climbing onto your legs to “finish the job”.

Beau took the opportunity to scoop Emily into his arms, spinning her around as she shrieked, “No fair! No fair!”. The laughter echoed across the yard, a perfect mix of chaos and joy.

By the time you all called a truce, your cheeks were red, your gloves soaked, and your sides ached from laughing. Beau walked over, his arm slinging around your shoulders as Cole clung to his leg, still chattering about his “big win”. Emily joined you, shaking the snow out of her hair and grinning like she hadn’t a care in the world.

“Well”, Beau said, his voice warm and low, “I don’t know about you, but I think that might’ve been the best snowball fight this family’s ever seen”.

“It’s the only snowball fight this family’s ever seen”, Emily pointed out, but the teasing tone in her voice made it clear she’d loved every second.

You leaned into Beau, glancing at the three of them, your little makeshift family. “Well, I guess we’ve set the bar pretty high, haven’t we?”.

Beau smiled down at you, his eyes soft. “Good thing we’ve got plenty more years to top it”.

And as the four of you trudged back inside, shedding wet coats and boots, you couldn’t help but feel it: the warmth, the laughter, the love. This was Christmas. This was home.

Inside, the warmth of the house quickly thawed the chill from your cheeks. Snow clung stubbornly to Cole’s little hat and mittens, and his face was flushed bright red from the cold and laughter. Beau grinned as he scooped him up, effortlessly hoisting him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Cole squealed, kicking his legs playfully as Beau said, “Alright, buddy, time to get you warmed up and in some dry clothes before you turn into a popsicle”.

You followed them up the stairs with Emily trailing behind, her footsteps light and quiet as she watched the scene unfold. Beau pushed the bathroom door open with his elbow, still holding Cole, and plopped him down on the edge of the tub. The little boy wiggled as you knelt down next to him, gently brushing the snowflakes from his hair.

“Hold still, Cole”, you said, laughing as he squirmed. “We’re trying to help you, you know”.

“But I’m not cold!”, Cole protested, giggling as Beau wrestled with the tiny, wet socks that clung stubbornly to his feet.

“Not cold, huh?”, Beau teased, holding up one soggy sock like it was evidence in a trial. “Then what do you call this, Mr. Snowman? A fashion statement?”.

Cole’s laughter filled the small bathroom as he tried to kick his feet free, but Beau caught them easily, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. “You’ve been like this since you were born, you know. Always wiggling around, never staying still”.

“Cause I’m fast!”, Cole declared proudly, pumping his little fists in the air.

“You’re definitely something”, Beau muttered, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he finally got the last sock off. “Now, let’s get you into some dry clothes before you speed your way into a cold”.

Emily leaned casually against the doorway, her arms crossed as she watched the two of you fuss over Cole. There was something soft in her expression, though she tried to mask it with her usual teenage coolness.

“You two are such parents”, she said, her tone laced with mock judgment.

You glanced back at her with a smirk. “Is that a bad thing?”.

Emily shrugged, but there was no edge to it. “No. Just… funny, I guess. You’re both so good at it”.

Her words made you pause for a moment, your heart swelling. It wasn’t often that Emily said things like that—openly kind and vulnerable. You met her gaze and gave her a warm smile. “Well, we’ve had a lot of practice with this one”, you said, nodding toward Cole, who was now giggling uncontrollably as Beau tickled his belly while trying to pull his shirt over his head.

Beau looked up at Emily, his grin wide. “And for the record, I’d say we’re pretty good at being your parents too. Even if you don’t let us put your socks on”.

Emily rolled her eyes, but you caught the way her lips twitched like she was fighting back a smile. “I think I can manage my socks, thanks”.

“Good to know”, Beau replied, finally managing to get Cole into a clean, dry shirt. He scooped the little boy back into his arms and stood, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Cole’s head. “There. Warm and toasty, just like a marshmallow”.

“I’m a marshmallow!”, Cole shouted, making you and Beau laugh.

Emily chuckled too, though she tried to hide it behind a shake of her head. “You’re all ridiculous”, she said, turning toward the hallway.

You stood, brushing your hands on your jeans, and caught up with her as Beau carried Cole back down. “Ridiculous, maybe”, you said softly, nudging her shoulder with yours. “But happy. And that’s what matters, right?”.

Emily glanced at you, her expression softening again, though she quickly masked it with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sappy on me, okay?”.

“Too late”, you teased, following her down the hall. But deep down, you knew she felt it too—this warmth, this connection, this new sense of family.

As the evening settled in, the house glowed with the soft light of the Christmas tree, its twinkling bulbs casting warm colors across the room. The scent of cinnamon lingered from earlier in the day, mixing with the woodsy aroma of the tree. The four of you were sprawled on the couch, cozied under a thick, patchwork blanket.

Beau, of course, had taken up the role of ultimate family snuggler. He sat in the middle, his left arm wrapped firmly around Emily, who had only agreed to the arrangement after a dramatic eye-roll and a mumbled, “Fine, but just this once”. Despite her protests, she leaned into him, her head resting lightly against his shoulder.

You lay on his other side, his right arm draped around your shoulders as you nestled close, your legs tucked up under you. Cole, ever the little king of chaos, had stretched himself out across both your laps. His head rested on Emily’s knee, his little hands clutching his favorite stuffed dinosaur, while his feet occasionally kicked up as he babbled about the cookies he’d eaten and the snowman that “almost stayed up”.

“Almost doesn’t count, little man”, Beau teased, ruffling Cole’s messy hair. “Next time, we’re getting it to stand no matter what. That’s a promise”.

Cole giggled, his voice sleepy but full of excitement. “You’re gonna help me, Daddy?”.

“Always”, Beau said, his voice soft and steady. “Always, buddy”.

You smiled at the exchange, feeling the warmth of Beau’s hand rubbing small circles on your shoulder. This was it—the quiet, perfect moment you’d been hoping for all day. Emily glanced at you briefly, catching your expression, and she smirked in that way only a teenager could.

“What?”, she asked, her tone playful but curious.

“Nothing”, you said softly, though the smile on your face betrayed you. “Just… this”.

Beau’s hand stilled for a moment, and he looked down at you, his gaze filled with a tenderness that never failed to make your chest ache. “Yeah”, he said quietly, “this is pretty good, isn’t it?”.

Emily groaned in mock disgust. “Oh, come on. You two are so gross sometimes”.

“You love it”, Beau said, leaning down to plant a quick, noisy kiss on the top of her head. She wrinkled her nose but didn’t pull away, and you noticed the small smile tugging at her lips.

“Do not”, she muttered, clearly lying.

Cole let out a loud yawn, his little arms stretching wide as he snuggled deeper into the blanket. “I love it”, he announced proudly, his words slightly muffled by the stuffed dinosaur he was still clutching.

As the evening wore on, Cole’s babbling grew softer, his eyelids drooping as the warmth of the blanket and the steady rhythm of Beau’s voice lulled him closer to sleep. He shifted, nestling deeper into the crook of your lap, his stuffed dinosaur still clutched tightly to his chest. You brushed a hand gently over his hair, smoothing down the messy tufts that stuck up from his earlier adventures in the snow.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Cole’s sleepy voice broke the quiet moment. “Emmy?”, he asked softly, his words slurring a little with tiredness.

Emily’s head popped up, her eyes widening slightly as she looked down at him. “Yeah, bud?”, she replied, her voice uncertain but kind.

“Will you read me a bedtime story tonight?”, Cole asked, his little voice so sweet and tentative it made your heart squeeze.

Emily blinked, caught off guard. “Me? Not Mommy or Daddy?”.

Cole shook his head against your knee, yawning widely. “I want you. Please, Emmy?”.

The room fell quiet for a moment, everyone waiting for Emily’s response. She glanced at you, then at Beau, like she wasn’t sure she was the right choice. Beau’s expression was warm and encouraging, and he gave her a little nudge with his elbow. “Looks like you’ve got a fan, kiddo”, he said softly, his tone teasing but gentle.

Emily hesitated for only a moment longer before giving a small shrug, though the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her. “Yeah, okay. Sure, I’ll read to you”, she said, her voice carefully casual.

Cole’s sleepy face lit up in a soft smile. “Yay”, he murmured.

As Emily and Cole disappeared upstairs, their voices trailing off as Emily tried to convince Cole that she wasn’t going to do all the silly voices, you turned back toward Beau, who was already shifting under the blanket. Before you could say a word, he stood up, effortlessly scooping you into his arms with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Beau!”, you laughed, clutching at his shoulders. “What are you doing?”.

“Kid’s occupied, we’ve got at least twenty minutes”, he said, his voice low and teasing as he headed toward the basement stairs. “I’m taking advantage of a rare opportunity”.

“For what?!”, you giggled, your heart racing more from the way he was looking at you than the movement.

“To spend some uninterrupted time with my wife”, he replied, his drawl making the words feel softer and warmer than they already were. “That’s what Christmas miracles are all about, right?”.

You couldn’t help but laugh, resting your head against his shoulder as he descended the stairs. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”.

“Yeah”, he said, his grin widening. “But also horny".

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he nudged the guest room door open with his foot and stepped inside. The room was small but cozy, its faint glow coming from the single lamp on the nightstand. Beau set you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering on your waist as he leaned in, his face just inches from yours.

“Finally”, he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “A little peace and quiet”.

You raised a brow, still smiling. “You think twenty minutes is enough for peace and quiet? With our kids upstairs?”.

Beau smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll take what I can get. Besides, I don’t need long to remind you how much I love you”.

The warmth in his voice melted any teasing retort you might have had. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “You’re pretty good at that, you know”.

“Good”, he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. “Because I plan on doing it for the rest of my life”.

And for a moment, the world upstairs faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in the quiet, perfect stillness of the moment. It wasn’t long, of course, before the faint sound of Cole’s giggles echoed down the stairs, followed by Emily’s exaggerated sigh as she tried to coax him to sleep. But for those few minutes, it was enough—just you and Beau, tucked away from the chaos, stealing a little piece of Christmas magic for yourselves.

———————————

A/N: Let´s welcome Beau to the family. Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373

[menofprogress]

I saw someone say that Viktor constantly reaching out to Jayce and trying to get him on his side after he initially left him and after Jayce fought, rejected and shot at him makes no sense but i disagree.

Imho jayce and viktor are incredibly, INSANELY codependent, they were each others closest contact for nearly a decade, saw each other every day, single mindedly worked towards the same goal, etc. Their lives immediately take a nosedive once theyre even slightly separated from each other (viktor nearly dies, jayce kills a kid, viktor atomises sky and then nearly kills himself, jayce lands in apocalypse land and viktor starts a cult). They instinctively always act like theyre still partners, even when theyre clearly supposed to be enemies because not being together feels unnatural to them.

Jayce doesnt act consciously when reviving viktor using the hexcore and YES viktor is hurt and distressed bc he was essentially turned into rio and he feels like he needs to leave, but then what? He probably finds out about jayces disappearance a few days later and is like "oh no, oh fuck, i know I left HIM, but i didnt want this" i mean he probably thought jayce was dead.

So for a few months he builds his commune and deliberately integrates sentimental things about his and jayces partnership (his 'home' looks like the hexgates, hes still wearing the blanket, for some reason theres a forge in the commune) which, imho, shows hes mourning and missing jayce in his own way. (A special personal hc of mine is that he grew out his hair out of grief). And in the pit we have jayce sobbing and crying bc he misses both mel and viktor so much.

So jayce reappears and viktors like "heeeyyyy bestie, oh my god, i missed u come visit me!!!" And jayce is rightfully confused like "didnt YOU break up with ME?" and viktor is like "nooo, hahaha, i was crazy back then, just forget about it, pls visit me?" And is only mildly concerned by jayce killing one of his followers (and then hes also mostly concerned about jayce, not salo lol)

Then jayce arrives and shoots him and its very painful bc viktor fully didnt expect jayce to hurt him! Hes so shocked 😭

Anyways after that Viktor "attacks" (more like "does a mating dance for") jayce in the council room and AGAIN asks him to join his emo band and is AGAIN shocked and hurt when jayce genuinely fights back and rejects him. Viktor is temporarily hurt and gives singed the ok to start the process.

And then as the fully transformed herald he STILL talks about how happy he is to see jayce and doesnt really put any effort into neutralising him. Like he could have just shot him hbxhnxgkhfj

All the while we have jayce talking big talk about stopping viktor, but when it comes down to it?? He doesnt manage to take him out and still talks to him. And then he sees Viktor in the astral realm and once there is a SLIVER of hope hes immediately like "oh thank god i can stop trying to kill him, this was never going to work"

All of this isnt contradictory to me. It means that both of them actually know that they should be on opposing sides now, they start acting according to the idea that the other one is now an enemy, they make plans accordingly, but when it comes down to it theyre reluctant to actually follow through bc that would mean a life without the other and thats worse than staying enemies forever.

Viktor kept reaching out, hoping to be partners again after MULTIPLE rejections and jayce couldnt bear to kill viktor or to let him die alone. Being apart from each other is quite literally the worst thing for either of them, so the instinct to reach out to each other will always take over.

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

Bad Sanses x Reader who is going to wear a very revealing Mrs. Claus costume for a Christmas party? (Maybe with some Jealousy and Mistletoe too >:3)

Featuring: Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Ted, Error, Cross

Masterlist

Nightmare

Back into the bedroom you go.

He's not letting you out wearing these revealing clothes and no you are not seeing a bulge on his pants it's just your imagination.

The king of negativity would never let his partner walk around with such provocative wearing... Especially with his servants around.. he doesn't want them staring at what's clearly his!

Nightmare doesn't let it slide- even if it seems he does throughout the night- just enjoy the party while you can, before your legs stop working for some time..

Killer

If I tell you that he decided to wear the same thing..

The rest of the gang definitely were eyeing you two up and down with a "what the fuck" expression, Ted may even ask what on earth are you two wearing.

"Whatcha mean? We're just matching."

Is it possible that he convinces you to make out in front of everyone? Maybe. Will Nightmare kick your butts if you do? Absolutely.

Ted

At first he doesn't really realize, of course he asks if what you're wearing isn't it too fresh for this epoch of the year? but he brushes it off.

Yet when he sees Killer flirting while holding a mistletoe up between you two, he doesn't think twice before snatching you away to the bedroom. There's a "talk" he wants to have with you..

It didn't take long for him to be rubbing himself against you, pinning your arms on top of your head with his claw while he leaves bite marks all over the visible skin.

Now, he may finish the job right there.. or let you go back to the party with his mark all over your body and needy for the rest of the night.. it depends on his mood at the time.

Dust

He comes from the shadows and hugs you from behind while you're putting the costume on.

"Where do you plan on going with that? Exactly, nowhere."

He's not the type to care about the clothes you wear, yet he's not going to let you go almost naked to the party, not with Killer there! So either you switch clothes or he entertains you with something else..

I mean it's not a surprise that you find yourself moaning into a pillow while Dust rapidly thrusts into you, is it? Seems like you two will open your gifts on the 26th this year..

Cross

Quick to find you a sweater to cover you up, how can you come so exposed to a party in the middle of the winter??

Now, Cross is no innocent, he knows what you're trying to do, but it won't work, not with him! Or will it?

It's so convenient that you're bending down to pick something up when only he is present in the room, don't you think?

Killer already told him- "It's a win Criss-Cross, you get your gift now or only next year huh?" Yet he's sure that's only Killer being slightly perverted, no way you got him to be a type of cupid did you??

In the end, you get what you wanted. He cursing you out while thrusting deep into you, congratulations I guess?

Error

Bitch cover yourself.

It's almost NEGATIVE temperature outside and you're wearing a top with a mini skirt?? OH HELL NO.

He's surprisingly giving you his coat. You better be grateful idiot, it isn't everyday the god of destruction gives his precious clothes to a mere mortal.

Error's eyeing you up and down without you noticing, you think you have the right to provoke him like this?

"Ʉ₲Ⱨ ..ɎØɄ ฿Ɇ��₮ɆⱤ ₱Ɽ₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ⱧɆⱤɆ ฿Ɇ₵₳Ʉ₴Ɇ ł₥ Ⱨ₳Vł₦₲ ₦Ø ₱ł₮Ɏ Ø₣ ɎØɄ ₩ⱧɆ₦ ₩Ɇ ₲Ø ฿₳₵₭ ₮Ø ₮ⱧɆ ₳₦₮łVØłĐ ɎØɄ łĐłØ₮.."

[1425fivefive]

oscar and max fuck and are both wearing cock cages, while mark fujos out. i feel like i need to personally apologize to god after writing this (inspired by this ask) (for the kink prompt asks)

“Touch him,” Mark says.

Both Max and Oscar turn to look at him, wide-eyed, like they can’t figure out which of them Mark’s addressing. Christ, Mark wants to laugh at how useless they are. He would, if it didn’t make his jeans go uncomfortably tight.

“I’m talking to Oscar,” Mark clarifies.

Oscar swallows thickly, but he turns back to Max and brings a hand up to Max’s pec, dragging a thumb over Max’s nipple. They’re really more like tits, Mark thinks. Soft and ripe.

“Suck his nipple,” Mark orders, settling back in his chair.

Oscar whimpers, but he listens, leaning forward and wrapping his lips around the puffy pink bud. Max moans, a raspy, desperate thing, and pushes his chest against Oscar’s mouth, a wet spot already darkening the front of his panties.

Mark tries not to groan at the sight, taking a sip of his whisky instead. He really ought to send Charles a thank you card after this. Let Charles know how much he appreciates Charles for letting them borrow Max. The panties were a nice touch. Simple white cotton with a little bow on the waistband, thin enough that Mark can see the outline of Max’s cage. Mark makes a mental note to get a pair for Oscar.

Oscar’s whining as he sucks Max’s nipple and Max lets out an answering whine, bringing a hand up to play with his other nipple.

Mark shifts in his seat, cock already aching in his jeans. He’d promised Charles he wouldn’t get involved, that he just wanted to watch and tell them what to do to each other. But he can’t stop imagining how well Max would take it, the way his tits would bounce when you fucked him.

Mark distracts himself by saying, “Take his panties off.”

Oscar gives Max’s nipple one last suck before shuffling down the bed, fingers playing with the waistband of Max’s panties.

“Take them off,” Mark says. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Oscar flushes, clearly embarrassed. Mark wonders if Oscar’s humiliated to have Max see him like this, letting his almost fifty-year-old manager order him around. Almost fifty, Mark reminds himself.

But Oscar peels Max’s underwear down his legs, revealing Max’s cock locked away in a tiny silver cage.

Mark groans at the sight. The cage is smaller than Oscar’s and Mark wonders if he could ever get Oscar into something that small. Lock his cock away into a tiny, perfect package. Mark shifts uncomfortably in his chair, taking another sip of his whisky.

Oscar’s staring down at Max’s cock with a slack-jawed expression and Max whimpers under him, hands coming up to clutch at the pillow under his head.

“Give it a kiss,” Mark says. “Show Max how pretty you think he is.”

Oscar glances over at Mark with a desperate expression. But he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Max’s cage.

“Oscar, fuck, please,” Max moans. It’s the first thing he’s said since he got undressed and climbed on the bed.

Mark huffs a laugh. “Don’t think you should be begging Oscar.”

Max looks over at Mark, eyes hooded, cheeks pink. Mark thinks he sees a flash of something in Max’s eyes before Max whines, “Please, Mark.”

Mark flushes and coughs, once, making sure his voice comes out steady. He ignores Max’s small, pleased little grin.

“Suck his cock, Oscar,” Mark says, relieved when his voice sounds normal. Oscar and Max moan in unison, but before Oscar can follow Mark’s instructions, Mark adds, “It’s not really a cock, though, is it?”

Max’s head swivels toward Mark, a stunned expression on his face.

“Charles told me it was more of a clit,” Mark says.

Max lets out a low, gut-punched noise, a shiver running through him, his little cock leaking over the bars of its cage.

“Oh my god,” Oscar breathes. “Charles really calls it—”

“Lick his clit, Oscar,” Mark says, pleased when Max lets out another devastated moan.

Oscar listens, finally, running his tongue over Max’s cage. Max whimpers, shaking, hands clutching so tightly at the pillow his knuckles turn white.

“How’s his mouth?” Mark asks, looking at Max.

Max and Oscar both whine, but Max takes a shuddery breath and moans, “Good. So good, Mark, fuck.”

There’s something heady about having Max like this, the reigning world champion, strung out and needy, hanging on Mark’s every word. It reminds Mark a bit of Seb, how it was between them before it all fell apart.

Mark can’t think about Seb, though, not now, and he distracts himself by telling Oscar to take off his briefs.

Once Oscar’s naked he stays kneeling on the bed, hands on his thighs, both him and Max looking over at Mark like they’re waiting for their next instruction. Like they have no idea what to do without Mark telling them. Probably for the best they’re locked up, Mark thinks. They wouldn’t have any idea what to do with their cocks even if they had them.

“Jesus,” Mark mutters. “Look at the pair of you.”

Oscar whines, hips thrusting uselessly. It gives Mark an idea.

“Get on top of him,” Mark orders. “Sort of like you’re going to fuck him.”

Oscar whimpers, probably going through whatever self-pity he cycles through whenever Mark reminds him that he can’t fuck anyone, that he’s only good for getting fucked.

But Oscar plants his elbows on either side of Max’s head, his caged cock brushing against Max’s, startling whimpers out of both of them.

Yeah. This’ll work.

“Good,” Mark says, voice strained. “Now try to make yourselves come.”

Oscar and Max make twin, devastated noises, but Max digs a heel into Oscar’s thigh, urging their cocks together. Oscar whines, even as he starts to move, rutting his caged cock against Max’s, letting out awful little whimpers with each thrust.

“Good boys,” Max murmurs, reaching a hand down to squeeze his cock through the denim. “You can kiss.”

Max throws his arms around Oscar’s neck, dragging Oscar in for a messy kiss, mouths and tongues sliding together, sloppy and overeager. Oscar’s panting into his mouth, rutting frantically against Max’s cock.

They look good together, Mark thinks. Sweet and young. Needy and useless, their pale skin flushed a pretty pink, whining and moaning into each other’s mouths. Always desperate for it, chasing a pleasure that’s forever just out of reach.

“Close yet?” Mark asks.

Oscar sobs against Max’s mouth, hips stuttering, and Mark sees how wet their pretty cocks are, slick with pre-come. Oscar’s constantly leaking when he’s in the cage and Mark reckons Max is the same. They’re gorgeous like this, marking each other the only way they can.

Oscar gets a hand under Max’s thigh, dragging Max’s leg around him, and ruts desperately against him, both of them whining and crying out.

“You must need it so bad,” Mark says, voice ragged. “Must be so desperate for it.”

Oscar and Max are still kissing, still panting against each other’s mouth, but Oscar’s thrusts are slowing and he’s making tiny, hurt noises, like he knows it’s useless, like he knows neither of them can come like this.

“Why’re you stopping?” Mark asks, twisting the knife. “You didn’t come yet.”

Oscar whimpers, pulling away from Max to look over at Mark, his eyes huge and wet. “I can’t.”

“Huh,” Mark says, spreading his legs, trying to show Oscar how hard he is, exactly what Oscar’s missing out on. “Too bad.”

Mark can’t help but grin at Oscar’s devastated little sob.

[mymoshangthoughts]

oki look im back on my "binghe and airplane are similar and i love it" bullshit

except this time i want these two whiny cut-throat bastards to run a cafe together

like binghe is the chef, obviously, and airplane handles the business side of things, and between the two of them, they absolutely make the cafe succeed through underhanded means

like

could they succeed as a business with just binghe's talents as a cook and qinghua handling the bills while the both of them charmed their way through customer service with their fake ass smiles? abso-fucking-lutely. but would they? oh no

qinghua is like releasing rats into the neighboring cafes and salting their sugar in espionage to make sure that everyone knows that the surrounding coffee is shit and the only place for Good Coffee is their cafe. he's making multiple alts online to just destroy their competition through online reviews and switching out the labels on dairy milk with non-dairy milk so that all the lactose intolerant customers are throwing fits on the regular because look, qinghua knows that a small lil cafe cant stand up to the big chain restaraunts, but he CAN destroy the reputation of all the closest chains to him like an absolute bastard

and oki, maybe binghe doesnt NEED to mansplain, manipulate, and manslaughter his way through everything, but gosh darnit, it's second nature to him. he is absolutely gonna hunt down any threats to their establishment and break their arms. and literally everyone who looks down on his establishment or leaves a bad review or otherwise gets in the path of his vengeance trail? loooookk, he cant be blamed for the way he smiled to their face while stabbing them in the back. they had it coming! they insulted his mothers lemon square recipe and thats an arm breaking offense oki

between the pair of them, they have the entire area quaking in confused fear. cuz okay, something i wanna talk about, the pair of them are two-faced and terrifying but like... 99% of people dont know that lmfao

(off topic but a personal pet peeve of mine is when fanfiction has characters immediately notice that binghe or qinghua are lying liars who lie. like "he smiled but it didnt meet his eyes etc" and im just guys. it's VERY established that the pair of them are VERY GOOD lying liars who lie. binghe's main character trait is that he can lie so convincingly that even shen yuan isn't always sure when he's sincere or not. and qinghua was literally a double agent for HOW LONG without getting caught? dude HAS to have a convincing fake smile. so all im saying is that people wouldnt immediately be able to see through that)

so like, yeah, all the bad luck and shit started happening when these two chuckle-fucks opened up a cafe in the area so like, logically it has to be SOMETHING to do with them but binghe and qinghua are literally the two most harmless and charming lil dudes ever? qinghua looks like a harmless pathetic hamster and binghe will thank you tearfully if you like his lemon squares and these two are literally the most wholesome and sweet business owners in the area so clearly they're not behind it

like i just need people to losing their minds a little bit because bingplane have gaslighted them all into submission like the evil cut-throat two-faced fuckers they are.

i honestly cant decide whats better tho. the pair of them having a drink after work together where the vibes are "lmfao we're so evil lets bask in our victory" glow OR the two of them actually only have a faint idea that the other is ALSO an asshole x'D

oki i think i lean toward the latter bc i think thats funnier.

like binghe doesnt pay much attention to airplane bc, as stated, airplane is a pathetic lil whining worm and he legitimately could not care if the twerp lived or died so long as the taxes are filed on time. but tbh, even then, he's competent enough that he doesnt /need/ qinghua around. it's just kinda convenient to keep him around. so mainly he's just apathetic and ambivalent to qinghua, but like, he does sorta notice because they spend so much time together that theres a distinctly... ratty quality to the dude. like, qinghua disappears for an hour and no less than five minutes after his return theres a roach infestation found in their closest competition? sus as fuck. and theres a little bit of a game recognizing game type of energy, but bc binghe could not be paid to care about qinghua's existence, he doesnt really look into it

similarly, qinghua is like 80% sure that pathetic crybaby of a chef is just that, but also, look, he's not dumb and the last three customers who insulted his lemon squares came back to the cafe in casts and binghe is a little too quick to turn off the customer service charm sometimes. and qinghua has basically decided "i actually really dont wanna know". ignorance is bliss, whatever level of psycho his coworker is, he honestly does not care so long as the crazy fuck continues to bake like a god. he absolutely 100% does not get paid enough to know whether his coworker is a serial killer and he also has the self preservation to understand that the less he knows, the better

so they both kinda have vague hints that the other is a two-faced motherfucker, but it's something that they figured out over time. there was no immediate meeting and "oh i know what you are" it was like "oki we've been working together for a year and yeah, im starting to think this guy isnt what he seems". slowburn them into realizing that they have similar personalities, if you will

now as tempting as it is to taking this au in a bingplane direction bc im ngl, i am multishipping trash, i am much more interested in slowburning this as a friendship. or like, grudging companionship LOL because also that gives the opportunity for:

"i just had to ask the worst person i know for love advice" shenanigans

followed by "the worst person i know gives good love advice, fuck" shenanigans

maybe they're having a drink and it's friendly and binghe kinda jsut wants to go home because again, he does not give a fuck about the fact that qinghua is alive, and qinghua also sorta wants to go home but they've both sorta committed to the "we're friendly coworkers" bit so here they are at a bar and trying to map out the Soonest Possible Good Time To Leave when binghe unthinkingly asks

"how do you get someones attention?" because he kinda ran out of pointless weather-related topics and it was on his mind and he really didnt expect qinghua to give him a half decent answer but then qinghua DOES and also knows who binghe's crush is and also is tactfully NOT saying that he knows who binghe's crush is with the casual "look, as an example, that specific person might like~" type of thing

havent decided on a binghe ship tbh lol. like bingyuan is obvious but also would be fun to do some bingliu or bingmo instead lmao maybe bingning? look im a happy multishipper and binghe is shippable with Many Characters. tho for the purposes of this freeform au thoughtless drabbling, the binghe ship doesnt actually matter so i'll keep it vague lol

the point is that qinghua gives really good fucking advice and binghe is just Not Ready for that because he's absolutely seen what a Nightmare scene it is when qinghua tries to flirt

which is somehow how the two segue into a relationship where they talk about flirting and love interests and that sort of shit in the most "we are two stereotypical gossiping middle school girls on the planet who are giggling and playing truth or dare about our crushes" type of way lmfao

because yeah, they're both cut-throat two-faced assholes, but they're also both utterly Weak in love

might be fun if they cycle through a few different failed crushes, but still kinda have fun at each others houses in like pillow forts with martinis that binghe made and gushing about "omg he was like so cute, did you see the way that he brushed me off? ahh imma die, so hot" because also they realize that they both share a Type. they are both absolutely into the Cold Beauty type, altho luckily they haven't crushed on the same person at the same time Yet, but like, it's only a matter of time okay and they know it and they are fully planning to Destroy the other when the time comes bc it's not bros before hoes for them, ohno, it's "to get that hoe, i will bury my bro in concrete" between them and they both lowkey know it LMFAO

and look, mobei jun did not ask to be the culmination of that particular building battle between them. he just came for coffee okay. what the fuck is happening. why is this is life now.

because okay when the pair of them were crushing on individuals who popped into the cafe or people they met outside, there wasnt any sense of urgency to it because they'd just shoot their shot and usually it wouldnt work out, well, it worked out for binghe whenever he went after chicks but he quickly figured out that he was like Cursed with "women simp after me" virus and while it can be flattering to have a simp, it really isnt fun to DATE a simp, ya know? so those relationships usually ended badly. qinghua just has no game with men or women lol

but see, when they realize that they're BOTH after the same guy, then theres the realization that if they fail, theres actually the chance the other one will Succeed and that would be Bad because then they'd have to see the object of their affections dating a coworker and NOPE NO CANT DO IT, WOULD MURDER HIM, I NEED TO GET THAT MAN JUST TO SPARE MY COWORKER FROM BEING MURDERED. THIS IS REALLY ALTRUISTIC OF ME ACTUALLY

so now they're just A LOT more persistent than they've ever been before lmfao they are pulling all the stops, they are using every weakness, they are ready to fucking WRECK the competition

maybe i should aim for a bingyuanmoshang ot4 endgame lmfao. mobei jun and shen yuan are just a happily married poly couple and shen yuan is having the time of his life laughing his ass off every time his husband comes home from the coffee shop like "i dont know whats going on but im scared and weirdly horny" and when bingplane realize that the solution is that mobei jun has two hands (and a very attractive husband), things calm down lmfao

or alternate route for this path, instead of them both thirsting after mobei jun, shang qinghua just has the most pathetic crush in the world, so luo binghe decides to have mercy on his coworker and be a wingman. only he Very Accidentally catches mobei jun's attention instead and now airplane is actually kinda lowkey ready to kill him bc he thinks that binghe snaked him but for once binghe is innocent! he didnt mean to do it! and it's moshang endgame when mobei jun gets over his crush on binghe and notices the angry hamster desperate for his attention

OR OR OR WAIT I THINK I THOUGHT OF THE VERSION I LIKE BEST

oki instead of bingplane actively seeking out love at every corner, what if they're just not. like they do bond over crushes and stuff but actually they're kinda too busy with the cafe and life and hobbies to really think about romance more than a "omg he was so cute~" kind of way. so neither of them notice when they have customers who are just Actively trying to ask them out

like mobei jun has been desperately trying to flirt with the oblivious barista for MONTHS now and he's actually dying because qinghua will just say shit like "wow you're literally the most handsome guy ive ever seen" but then brush him off when mobei jun tries to ask him out bc qinghua just assumes he isnt serious and he's busy with the expresso machine and he has no idea that this man is just PINING behind him while he sighs pathetically to binghe later abt "man it's fun having crushes but dont you just wish someone could like you instead?" and binghe just like "look im actually desirable, cannot relate"

thinking bingliu route for this version bc i feel like liu qingge is just a lot more fitting for Uselessly Pining After The Barista than shen yuan is lol. also his attempts at flirting are basically just picking fights with binghe and he always loses and binghe has absolutely no idea how far gone qingge is for him LMFAO

also now that i think about it, mobei jun should be kinda bad at flirting as well LOL so shang qinghua is like 90% sure that mobei jun sorta wants to kill him

bingplane having their weekly gossip sesh in a pillowfort like "man oki idk why they keep coming to the cafe if they hate us so much... but also man they make for good eye candy, if they werent such assholes, i could see having a crush" and then maybe a terrible game of truth or dare results in both of them daring each other to flirt with the Mean Eyecandy Man and now moliu are about to get Wrecked LMFAO

look basically i think that this sort of au could go in multiple very delicious directions but at the base, i just want evil comrades bingplane running a cafe together with all of the gap moe in the world LMFAO

[sanjisleggy]

the warlord’s wife (mihawk x reader)

req: Oh if you want to you should do a Mihawk x reader (fem or gn) that's hurt comfort where the reader is like the exact opposite of him. Like she is usually so happy and sweet and kind. And something happens and maybe she starts to worry that she is too much for Mihawk because he is just someone who is quiet and to himself all the time and she thinks she is constantly bothering him

a/n: ahhh my first attempt at writing for Mihawk! a much shorter fic compared to my others but i hope you guys like it nonetheless :3c i’d love to write longer fics for him if anyone has any ideas yippee

contents: rude people (lol), insecure!fem!reader, simp!Mihawk, a tiny bit of angst, some hurt/comfort, fluff :3c

wc. 1k

wanna be on my taglist?

—

i. 

standing outside the large ornate doors, you feel your face burn with embarrassment as you contemplate simply going to the docks to wait out by the hitsugibune until the gala ends. as tempting as escaping from the horrific social situation sounds right now, your pride refuses to let you bow your head in defeat.

”i don’t know how else to convince you,” you try to appeal to the two marines standing guard outside the venue entrance once more, “if you could just ask him to verify my identity—”

”i’m sorry, miss,” the larger man of the two cuts you off with a less than apologetic look. “there’s just no reason why we should do as you say. if we listened to every man or woman demanding to go in, we’d lose our heads.”

your indignance and frustration quickly bubbles into pure anger and for a brief moment you lament having left your katana back at the castle. you bite your tongue, unable to think of any other way to convince the marine officers that you are, indeed, a guest who’d been invited to the gala because you’re literally one of the Warlords’ wives.

“besides,” the other officer chips in unprompted, “no offence but you don’t seem like the type of woman someone like Dracule Mihawk would marry.” his partner fails to hold back a scoff but quickly attempts to return his expression back into one of neutral professionalism.

clenching your fists by your sides, you try your very hardest to keep your eyes from tearing up for the second time tonight. normally such a comment wouldn’t phase you—years of being Mihawk’s partner has done wonders for thickening your skin—right now, though, you can’t help but feel a familiar sharp stinging sensation pierce through your chest.

of all the snarky comments you marine dogs decide to make, why this one?

ii.

it had only been an hour into the gala and already you regretted begging your husband, just weeks prior, to consider attending with you as his guest. the event was a grand one held by the marines every year to “show their appreciation” towards their allies, which included the Seven Warlords; and every year the invite would show up at your doorstep only to be promptly thrown out by your introverted husband.

”can we please go? i miss going for social events like these.” you’d pleaded that night in bed, hugging his arm tightly as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck—a move he liked to call ‘playing dirty. “just this once to see what it’s like, then i’ll never ask again.”

both you and Mihawk knew it was a lie but the swordsman was nothing if not a simp for you so he begrudgingly agreed.

”care to elaborate why?” you challenge, taking the two marines aback if their surprised expressions are anything to go by. clearly not used to ‘civilians’ talking back to them, they take a moment to gather their thoughts—and at least have enough decency to look embarrassed at being called out.

”w-well—”

“your wife is such a chatterbox! it’s a wonder you’ve tolerated her for as long as you have!”

”your husband is whom? forgive me, i find that hard to believe.”

”i thought he was some kind of recluse?”

”maybe it was an arranged marriage. how scandalous.”

”i pity the poor man. all my husband does is talk and it drives me insane some days.”

”darling?” a deep familiar voice calls out from behind you, accompanied by the sound of heeled shoes clicking against stone. before you can turn around, you feel his warm hand rest itself on your shoulder, the comforting heat of his body engulfing you from behind. “i’ve been looking for you.”

the blood drains from both the marine officers’ faces, their eyes widening in shock as it dawns on them what a mistake they’ve just made. as though pleading for mercy, the eyes of the larger man flickers in your direction, almost screaming: “please, i’m too young to die.”

”were these men giving you trouble?” Mihawk probes gently, using his other hand to tilt your head in his direction. the moment his eyes meet your own and widen ever so slightly, you know there’s no point lying. as much as you’ve been able to hold back your tears of frustration well enough to fool the average man, your husband is anything but average.

mouths still agape, the marine officers can do nothing but watch as the notorious swordsman proceeds to cup your face with his right hand in a manner so tender they can’t help but suspect he’s an imposter. unbothered by the unbelieving stares sent his way, Mihawk brushes his thumb under your eye as though to confirm his suspicion.

”they were but it’s okay now,” you finally reply, placing your hand over his to hold it in place as you relish in the comforting warmth of his palm.

”what did you do to my wife?” he disregards your subtle plea for peacemaking. he knows you well enough to infer that you simply don’t want him to make a scene for the sake of maintaining his public image. 

Mihawk’s aware of how much you actually enjoy silently watching him defend your pride and honour; and he also knows from experience how happily you’ll reward him with your honeyed words and sweet touches later tonight, when it’s just the two of you alone together. it concerns him, slightly, if he were to be honest, how easily you have him wrapped around your finger—but that’s something to think about another day. 

the marines stutter and stammer but nothing coherent leaves their lips, all linguistic ability fading into nothing under the angered gaze of the Warlord.

”be thankful my beloved is as kind as she is,” the swordsman warns, all the while maintaining his hardened glare. “know that had she not vouched for you two, i’d have no problem killing you right where you stand.”

—

taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots

[08melancholie]

Amos and Micah's Relationship; The Letter.

I had a quick interaction on twitter about Amos's letter to Micah and GOD, we need to talk about it a little more in-depth, because I am so insane about their relationship.

If you aren't aware, Micah has a brother; Amos Bell. You can find a letter sent back by his brother in response to whatever Micah has written him, which is the following:

You can immediately feel the disdain from Amos to Micah; bluntly threatening him, telling him he wants nothing to do with Micah, etc. and that simply breaks my heart for Micah in the worst way possible. Micah wanted a relationship with his brother, and because of his poor lifestyle, it was all too late, and a relationship of any kind, or reconciling, was out of the question now.

This circles back to their father, of course, Micah Bell II. I feel that blaming him here is justified; but the case is so for a lot of things Micah does/says too. I've talked about how I think that, if Micah got out of the crime lifestyle that he led with his father—like Amos did—he would have had a somewhat normal rest of his life. If you've ever been in this type of situation, being influenced or coerced into something by any authority figure, or even any person in general, you'll know that traditions, opinions and views stick for a long time, and they don't fade out so easily, even after you don't have those people preaching those beliefs to you anymore. Micah could have gotten out no problem, but the next issue would have been getting what his father taught him out of his head. It clearly didn't fade canonically, seeing as he quotes things his father's told him; "Sympathy is for the weak", for example. He quotes it at the fire, saying it's 'one of the thing his daddy's taught him'. I think that, in either scenario, Micah would have been doomed, and that is even worse to me than his current situation.

I'm always curious as to what Micah could have possibly written in that letter. The most hurtful one for me might be knowing Amos has daughters, and that he's an uncle that the girls will never meet, or even know of, probably. Maybe Micah wanted to reconcile to meet them? Can you imagine, if Micah wanted to be an uncle? I think that wouldn't be so out of character, seeing as he never settled and therefore never had any family left other than Amos, so knowing he had nieces might have driven him to write to Amos. And that alone really makes me feel bad, as much as I don't want to feel bad for Micah—I really, really do. Micah wanted a relationship with his brother—and maybe his brother's family—but it could have never been, because of what he 'chose' in his life.

oh boy i am very sad about them :(

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

If you’re still taking requests: sebson mistletoe matchmakers, one of those 5+1 things, like they use mistletoe together other drivers and the one time others do it to them

❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃

day 12: mistletoe — jenson button x sebastian vettel (+ webbonso, brocedes, maxiel)

note: happy christmas everybody!! thank you for the request! btw, i will probably reduce the days becuse 1 i have not that many fanfic ideas 2 december is coming to an end and 3 sadly i have to study for my exams. but keep the requests coming :) i’ll do my best to fulfil them. ps: mark sneak in the pic but it does give the idea of a christmas party. i also couldn’t think of 5 couples from the old grid so i’ll give you 3 lmao hope it’s enough. i enjoyed writing this A LOT.

fluffcember masterlist | main masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

That year drivers’ dinner was organized in a big villa. The atmosphere was beautiful, everyone was having fun. But you know what was funnier?. Jenson and Sebastian’s plan to pull a prank on the other drivers by mysteriously making appear a mistletoe above their heads. After all, what’s better than playing matchmakers?

The first pair they wanted to fall in their trap were obviously Mark and Fernando. Not only because those two were dancing around each other for years by now, but also because they were undoubtedly the easiest target, assuming that two people who became extremely touchy at any given time would be the most likely to kiss. Their assumption revealed itself, in fact, correct.

It wasn’t even that difficult: the two of them were already talking together in a side of the room. All it took was for Jenson to hang the mistletoe above them with a broom handle while Sebastian proceeded to distract them.

The two friends, as expected, weren’t very pleased with Seb interrupting their conversation, and they quickly dismissed him by ignoring him.

“They really wanted alone time.” Sebastian stated with a smirk on his face, once he was back to Jenson.

“Well, let’s see how it plays out. But not from here.” Jenson took Sebastian by his arm and pulled him in the hallway, from where they would’ve had a better visual.

Just as planned, Mark’s head bumped into the mistletoe, and both of them looked upwards. Fernando’s face turned to a shade of red once he understood the situation.

“Oh.” Mark’s eyes were back on Fernando, who was trying his best to find something else to look at. “I haven’t seen many mistletoes around, we must have ended up under the only one.”

“Si, I guess.” The Spaniard was clearly wishing he could dig a grave for himself in the floor. A small grave would have been enough for his size, he wouldn’t take that much to make it.

The taller man seemed uncomfortable too, but overall more collected. “Should we follow the tradition? I mean, if you’re in for it, of course.”

Fernando blushed even more if possible, but nodded nonetheless. “It’s just a tradition, after all.”

Mark didn’t let himself be told twice. He leaned down and pressed his lips on his friend’s. Fernando welcomed the kiss, holding him by his shoulder, while the Aussie’s hands fell down to grab his snatched waist.

Jenson and Sebastian exchanged an accomplice look. That was the sign for them to continue with their mission. It suddenly got extremely fun.

Their next target were the two inseparable best friends, because what was funnier than threaten to break a sexual tension lasting years with a Christmas kiss?

This time was even easier to place them right where they wanted. They hung up the mistletoe in the isolated hallway they have been. Jenson then began a conversation with Nico, subtly leading him in that direction, while Sebastian did the same with Lewis. Once they were all together in the designed spot, Jenson and Seb found a way out and left the two alone, under the infamous plant. They sat on a table where they could watch them from afar without being seen.

It was quite frustrating at the beginning, since those two didn’t seem to realize where they happened to be, too busy doe-eyeing each other. That, until a berry fell on Lewis’ shoulder.

“I can’t believe they really put mistletoes around here.” said Nico, picking up the berry from the Brit’s suit.

“That must be why Mark and Fernando were passionately making out before.”

Nico chuckled, remembering the sight. “Care to imitate them?”

Lewis froze suddenly. He was never out of words, but in that moment he really couldn’t find anything meaningful to say, so he just stayed silent.

“What? You don’t think your masculinity can handle it?” Nico teased him, stepping forward to cancel the empty space between them. “Or you’d rather take it and use it to kiss some pretty girl?”

Lewis didn’t believe there could ever exist a girl prettier than Nico. “Is it a challenge?” And God knew how much he loved challenges.

“I don’t know, would you accept it?”

Lewis took Nico’s face in his hand and pulled him in a kiss.

Seb gave Jenson the high five. It was proving all easier than expected.

They decided to have a drink or two before concentrating on their next victims.

“I must say I didn’t think it would’ve gone so smooth. Why is everyone tonight so fucking horny?” Sebastian said in a softer tone, careful not to be heard by anyone but his accomplice, and they both shared a laugh.

“Look,” Jenson got closer to his friend “tell me he’s not dying to kiss Verstappen from the moment he stepped in this place tonight.” He pointed discreetly at Daniel Ricciardo, sat in a table not too far from them, who was too centered on keeping his eyes on Max to hear what they were saying.

The two appeared in front of the poor boy, blocking his sight. Jenson initiated the talk. “Hey mate, how you doing?”

Daniel snapped instantly back to reality. “Oh. Good, thank you. I was just–“

“Yeah, we know.” Seb stopped him, saving him the awkwardness, then took a mistletoe out of their secret mistletoes bag and handled it to him. “We could have done it for you, but we thought it was more fun if you’d do it yourself.”

The young Aussie looked at the little plant, then at them, a bit confused. Then his big brown eyes widened and his lips parted in realization.

“Max.” Daniel greeted him, after finally finding the courage to approach him.

The boy was sipping casually on his drink. He smiled as soon as he saw his teammate. “Hi Danny. Are you having fun?”

The RedBull driver tried to keep the conversation going until he took the decision: it was finally time to shoot his shot. He sneakily dropped the mistletoe without being seen by his friend, then he slyly dropped down his eyes. “Oh, look. It must have fallen from the ceiling.”

Max frowned, then picked it up and scanned it, turning it around in his hands. “It doesn’t surprise me. Those two are hanging these damn things around since they arrived. Such a childish tradition.”

“Do you think it’s childish?” asked Daniel, finding it hard to hide the disappointed tone. He was usually able to easily break the tension by saying something funny, but in that moment he found himself out of jokes.

“I mean,” Max tucked his hair behind his ear, letting his nervousness shine through. “They’re like the cat and the fox, playing matchmakers, and now everyone is making out. We don’t want them to fool us too, right? Not that I don’t want to kiss you, but– Wait, sorry I didn’t mean it like–” he sighed and shook is head “What am I saying? Sorry, I’m being so bad with words. I just–”

His nonsense rumblings were interrupted when Daniel silenced him with a kiss. Max stiffened at first, but when his friend’s hand found his, he relaxed and kissed him back.

Sebastian and Jenson were watching them satisfied, sipping their second drink. Their game then succeeded most of the times for another hour. At least until they accidentally left their mistletoes bag in a corner of the room to go to the bathroom, and when they were back, it wasn’t there anymore.

“I knew we shouldn’t have gone at the same time.”

So smart of them. “Maybe someone picked it up thinking it was theirs.”

They asked around, but no one seemed to have seen it.

“Has someone lost a navy bag?” Nico Rosberg’s voice resounded suddenly among the people.

“It’s ours!” The two quickly approached the Mercedes driver, soon realizing he wasn’t alone. Lewis was with him, and also Max. And Daniel. And Mark with Fernando. Oh.

The Spaniard had his arms crossed. “I think I’ve seen it there.” He pointed to a door.

Seb and Jenson wasted no time and ran in the said direction. It didn’t take them very much to notice that they ended up in a room full of mistletoes, all hanging from the roof, from the walls, scattered on the floor and all over the furniture. The door closed behind them.

“I think they caught us.” Jenson commented, looking around. The other drivers’ laughters echoed from afar.

“Very perceptive of you.” Sebastian couldn’t help an amused smile.

“We kinda had it coming.” The Brit turned towards him.

“Kinda?” Seb shrugged. “It was inevitable.” His eyes met the other man’s ones, and betrayed his feelings. He couldn’t hide them anymore. “So, what shall we do?”

Jenson tilted his head a bit, his intentions so obvious, so readable on his face. He stepped closer and closer, forcing the other driver to back up against a wall. “Well, it would be very hypocritical of us to avoid the trend at this point.”

“I think so too.” The German’s gaze dropped to his lips.

Jenson trapped him by leaning on the wall with one hand. “May I?” His voice was low and his breathe heavy.

“Don’t worry, you don’t need your British manners with me.”

They smashed their lips together. They explored each other’s mouths, savouring each other’s taste. Sebastian’s hands held him close by behind his neck, while Jenson’s found a way down his body.

When they broke the kiss, they were breathless. Sebastian’s blue doe eyes were still fixated on the other man’s lips. “You know, I think I saw a mistletoe in my hotel room too.”

Jenson chuckled.

[nomoreusername]

A Perfect Pair

Pairing:Minho x female reader

Summary:Even though all he wants is you, Minho realizes how much trust rumors can hold.

“You two have so much in common.”

It was a phrase you heard far too often. It was one you rolled your eyes at every time too. You and Minho? Seriously?

His arms crossed over his chest, a flash of jealousy shining in them before just vanishing, being replaced with a deep sadness. Because he already knew what came next.

“It’s not like that,”You insisted, staring at the ground to hide your smile.

A/K was your perfect match. You both worked the same job, seemed to like most of the same things, had the same beliefs, the same humor, the same everything. You two were like puzzle pieces that were made to be.

Minho wanted to scream. He wanted to point out that it puzzle pieces are the same shape they have no chance of fitting. He wouldn't to tell everyone it wasn't fair.

He didn't. He sat there, staring down at his drink. Needing it, he chugged the rest of it down, a sour expression on his face.

“Oh come on. You’d be so cute together. Right, Minho?”

Minho was sure the universe wanted him dead. While he knew the reason was that he was closest, it seemed like taunting. Surely it was a cruel, cruel joke.

“Yeah. They’d go alright together,”He shrugged. Your face flushed as you met A/K’s. He was biting his lip to hold back his smile too, both your eyes gaining this glint that twisted his stomach in knots.

Thomas and Newt exchanged a worried glance before looking at Minho. His face was neutral, no sign of his heart breaking in his chest.

“You two will be together one day for sure. The perfect boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m heading to bed,”You siged, rolling your eyes and standing up, brushing off your pants.

“Oh come on. It's early,”Fry complained.

“Yeah. And I already want away from you shanks,”You said simply, walking off.

Minho stood, calmly making his way to his hammock. He glared at the ground as though it spit on him. Something it was so hard not to do the more he heard those words.

Thomas and Newt also left without a word, their concern only growing. Jogging over, they caught up with him not too far away.

“Minho, wait a second,”Thomas called, placing a hand on his chest as he caught up. Minho resisted the urge to shout at them to leave them alone as he sharply asked what they needed, clearly just wanting to get to the point.

“It's just we've been thinking, and it doesn't have to make sense, right?”

“What are you talking about?”He asked, sure they were the ones speaking gibberish.

“Y/N smiles when someone teases her, but that doesn't mean it's true. People smile all the time when they're embarrassed,”Newt pointed out.

A hint of skeptical shown, his interest clearly peaked.

“They're not together. So what if it's that?”Thomas continued.

A trickle is disappoint when through him, along with fear.

“What if that doesn't mean anything?”He whispered.

“What if it means everything? What if you confess and she feels it too?”Newt pushed.

“You really think she could?”

“Only one way to find out. Right?”

Minho didn't say a word as he left the other direction this time. At each step he found a nervous grin crossing his lips as he thought about the possibilities. You could feel the same. You two could be something. You two could be great together.

You two could be the perfect match.

Almost running now, he found himself in front of your hut. Too eager at the thought of his dreams coming true, he didn't think as he swung the door open, ready to proclaim his love.

He was met with a sight that made him sick to his stomach. One that he would never recover from.

You were in A/K’s lap as he sat on your bed, both your lips pressed firmly together. His hands were around your waist, traveling under your shirt, as you kissed with an undeniable passion. You had your arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him close.

Of course you and A/K were cute together. Of course you fit so well.

You already are.

You both pulled apart, your faces flushing in embarrassment as he stood there, paling under the moonlight.

“Please don't tell anyone?”

“I’m-I’m sorry.”

His voice cracked as he shut the door. Refusing to let his tears spill, he did his best to swallow the lump in his throat as he wished to just disappear.

He’s so stupid. He’s such an idiot for ever thinking he had a chance.

He never wanted to see you again. The chances of breaking were too likely.

Yet he would see you and A/K tomorrow, whether he liked it or not.

[remperoni-melt]

I’d Ground You If The League Didn’t Already (REPOST FROM OLD BLOG)

Dom!Matt Rempe x short!alt!sarcastic!fem!Reader

TW:// NSFW, p in v, oral (m receiving), unprotected, hate fucking???, very rough handling, ANGSTTTTTTT, sarcasm, bullying out of love, lowkey CNC??, HARD kinks, Kinda porn with a plot

(Credit to @amourtoken for the idea)

*kinda rushed but I was excited to get this out 🤷‍♀️

“Matthew Rempe! You’re fucking lucky I respect your mother so much or I’d beat her ass in the street for raising such a bitch.” I exclaimed as I let myself into my best friend’s apartment. Matt and I always gave each other shit but it was always out of love. Our relationship was built off of bullying each other. That was just our dynamic. We wouldn’t be us without it.

“Oh my god, how does something I can punt so easily manage to catch such a big attitude?” Matt groaned and ran a hand over his face in frustration. “I know I fucked up, okay?! Do you think I’m happy about the suspension?” Matt snapped at the short girl that had just barged into his apartment.

“Well, you didn’t seem too bothered when you got ejected!” I snapped back at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “I saw that little smirk on your face. You didn’t care about your actions until you got in trouble!” I scoffed and rolled my eyes at the 6’9 man I had come to know as my best friend. “I mean, Jesus fuck, Matt! 8 fucking games?! I’d ground you myself if the league hadn’t already done it for me!” I all but spat at him.

“Fuck you, ankle biter! You don’t know what the fuck I was thinking!” Matt yelled, his patience wearing even more thin as the tiny woman dug into him like the first person to find a T-Rex skeleton. He couldn’t deny that she had a point. All he heard was the cheers. All he felt was the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He hadn’t even considered the consequences until they were laid out in front of him.

“Regardless, it was reckless.” I said sternly, as if I was scolding a child. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair before I spoke again. “Listen, Matt. Maybe I just don’t want my best friend qualifying for a tear drop tattoo.”

“Oh my god, I’m not gonna fucking kill anyone.” Matt rolled his eyes at the petite woman’s dramatics.

“Well you came damn fucking close this time.” I said bluntly, calling out the giant man with the confidence of a man taller than him. “I fucking love you, Matthew.” I said in anger. “And the next time you do some dumb shit like that, I won’t fucking hesitate to fold your clothes with you still in them.” I threatened him. Was it stupid? Yes. Did I care? In the moment I didn’t. Not really.

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Matt groaned. “Any time I get into a fight, all you fucking do is bitch and moan. I get you care but… fuck, woman! Hop off my fucking dick!” Matt yelled with a scoff and a bitter chuckle. “Y’know what? Better yet, choke on my fucking dick since you can never shut the fuck up! Maybe with something in your mouth I won’t have to hear you whining about decisions I make in my fucking career!” Matt shot at her. He knew his words were harsh but he was stressed. They both were. And god dammit, he just wanted her to shut the fuck up for a minute.

I scoffed and bit the insides of my cheeks as I took in his words. I nodded slowly, pissed off at his audacity. Someone that looked like they left Gumby in the oven too long was talking to me like that? Is he on fucking crack? The next words to leave my mouth were not my own but that of a demon clearly trying to sabotage and kill me.

“Make me.”

POV switch - Matt

At the sound of her words, my resolve crumbled. Her lips curled up into a sinister smirk, her gaze on me hard and challenging. This pint sized little bitch genuinely thought she was indestructible at times.

Fuck, I can’t wait to break her.

I pressed my lips together in a tight line and stomped over to her. I grabbed a fistful of her black hair and dragged her to my bedroom. The sound of her yelping in surprise, or maybe it was pain, just caused a dark chuckle to escape my throat. I roughly pushed her down on my bed and swiftly slapped her across the face, making sure to support the other side of her face with my other hand. I squatted down in front of her, smirking at her as she held her probably bruising cheek in shock.

“I’m gonna beat your pussy up like it fucking owes me money.” I said with a smile. “But first, you’re gonna choke on my dick like the pathetic little fucking slut you are.” I said bluntly and stood back up straight. I quickly pulled my gray sweats down, my dick slapping against my stomach. I chuckled as she gasped and looked up at me with those damn doe eyes. Fuck, those eyes. I roughly grabbed her chin and yanked her closer. “Open.” I commanded.

POV switch - Reader

I opened my mouth, almost on instinct. My eyes met his in a look that begged ‘please, Matt. Please fuck me. Take me. I’ll do anything. Take me right here, right now. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. I’m your slut. I’m yours. Please.’

“Good girl.” Matt smirked, his eyes narrowing down at me. His hand twisted in my hair and he slammed my head on his rigid cock, causing me to gag and tears to prick at my eyes. “Too much?” He asked before he started guiding my head. He moved fast and aggressive. I had no time to breathe or think. All that existed was his dick popping in and out of my throat. His tip sliding against my tongue. His groans and curses as he face fucked me with reckless abandon. God damn. He wasn’t kidding about shutting me up. Finally, I couldn’t take anymore. I grabbed his thigh, digging my nails in and making him hiss in pain and still his movements.

“Fuck. You.” I choked out in a hoarse voice between panted breaths as I collapsed back on the bed.

“You have manners. Say please.” Matt teased as he looked down at the already ruined girl on the bed. The sight changed something in him. He wasn’t sure if it was the banter or what had just transpired, but he wanted to ruin her.

I looked up at him, clear annoyance on my face. We had always been best friends. We always bullied each other but this? This was way too fucking far.

“Please.” I croaked out sarcastically, my eyes narrowing at him. He smirked down at me and swiftly ripped my shirt over my head and yanked my jeans off my legs, baring me to his hungry and devious gaze.

“Fuck.” Matt had pretty much breathed out the word. “I didn’t know you were built like this.” He smirked while he undressed himself at an agonizingly slow pace. Somehow, the sight was teasing. It was seductive. It was intoxicating. It was completely unfair and I needed him now or I was gonna go crazy. Absolutely fucking ape shit insane.

“Shut up and fuck me, goon.” I said in a quiet but venomous voice. By the look on his face, I knew I didn’t have to tell him twice.

“Watch how the fuck you talk to me, brat.” He growled out the words as his hand shot out to wrap around my already sore throat. He smirked as I winced and gasped, his grip getting tighter just so he could watch me squirm further. Once I groaned in pain, he chuckled. “Want me to stop?” He leaned down to whisper in my ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. I quickly shook my head ‘no’, making him chuckle darkly.

Slowly, he climbed on the bed to hover over me. His eyes raked over my body slowly, a dark and dangerous look in his eyes. Suddenly, his hands grabbed my knees and roughly pushed my knees apart, causing me to gasp and whimper. His eyes caught the glint of something in my folds and he smirked, knowing exactly what it was. To be sure though, he reached out and brushed his fingers against my clit. The cool metal of my clit piercing was a stark contrast to the warmth of the wetness coating literally everything else.

“We’ll play with that later.” His voice came out in a husky whisper as he lowered himself on top of me.

“Just. Fuck. Me.” I growled out as I tangled my hand in his hair, pulling roughly. He groaned and without wasting a second, he plunged into me. Both of us let out low moans simultaneously as he sank into me.

“Oh fuck.” He hissed. His hand gripped my left hip with enough strength that I thought my hip bone would shatter. His mind went blank as the feeling of me consumed him, and his hips started moving. Slowly at first, as if to savor the moment.

“You’re still a fucking idiot.” The words tumbled from my lips between the soft moans that he drew from my lips.

“You bite sized bitch. Are you seriously still bitching at me when I’m balls deep inside you?” He hissed, his hips still keeping their slow and steady pace. He slowly drew his length all the way out before slamming back in full force, causing me to scream.

“Your fault,” I got cut off by a whimper, “for thinking you were safe.” I finished my sentence, my nails digging into the back of his neck.

“You’re insufferable but fuck if this pussy isn’t fucking life changing.” He groaned into my ear. His hands moved to my waist, his grip strong and bruising as he kept up with his slow but hard and punishing strokes.

“Life changing like an 8 game suspension?” I asked breathlessly, followed by a whimper as he nipped at my neck.

“You’re not gonna be talking all this shit when I fuck you so good that you’re talking to your higher self.” Matt groaned, his tone cocky. He punctuated his statement with a particularly deep thrust from a different angle, hitting that spot within me that made me scream out and scratch down his back. “In case you doubted me.” He chuckled before replicating the thrust.

“Yeah but you can’t fuck me harder than my childhood trauma.” I said shakily, holding in my moans. He picked up his pace, as if to challenge me. “8 games and you’re still lucky enough to fuck a pussy this good.” I teased him in a sultry whisper. “Even when you lose, somehow you still win.”

“Yeah?” He scoffed lightly. “Who’s the one stretching this pretty pussy out? Who’s the one making you scream?” He growled through gritted teeth as he started fucking me harder. Faster.

“Who’s the one that’s gonna cum?” I shot back through gritted teeth as I clenched around him as hard as I could, causing him to groan loudly as a shudder passed through his body.

“Jesus Christ.” He hissed. With that, I knew he was close. My hips began to rock with his, my walls clenching around him as he would pull back. “Fuck. Chill. Chill.” He said breathlessly, his hips stilling so he could last longer.

“No.” I said with a smirk. Despite my size, I was able to flip us over pretty easily. I sank down onto him, my hips immediately grinding on him. His length was rubbing against that sweet spot in me and the room filled with the sounds of us whimpering and moaning. “Play smarter when you’re back on the ice and just imagine the nasty fucking shit I’ll do for you then.” I giggled as his hands found my hips, his fingers digging into my skin.

“Oh fuck.” He groaned, his head falling back. “I’ll be smarter. Fuck, I’ll be smarter.” He whimpered. My hips sped up and his mouth hung open in a silent moan, his eyes shut tightly. Finally, his grip on my hips got tighter and his body began to tense before shudders ran through him as he released his load inside me. I kept going, determined to milk him of every last drop, thought, breath. I wasn’t satisfied until he was completely braindead. Once he was staring at the ceiling with glazed over eyes, I knew he was thoroughly fucked out.

“Believe it or not, I came here to comfort you.” I said with a smirk as I hopped off him, collapsing on the bed next to him. “How’d I do?” I asked, with a cocky grin.

“Fuck you.” Matt rasped out with a breathless laugh.

And with that, he started fighting more. He fucked me once and ran with it. Fucking idiot…

**Re-posting this here bc I’m deleting @remperoni today to avoid confusion between blogs and Idk if the post will be lost when I delete the blog soooooooo…

[bludstein]

Random Thoughts About Jason's Love Life

I remembered that one of Red Hood's writers said that Jason is a regular in gay bar and that even in WFA, he had a Tinder profile. Now, I'm sad because he clearly wants to be loved but it didn't work out for him so he went for the next best thing. Then again, Jason is always a bit more lonely than the other Bats.

Yes, he has his family and team. But having loved ones doesn't erase the inherent loneliness he always carry around. Because you could be within proximity with your family and a few messages away from your friends and still feel alone. It's not enough to have loved ones, you have to properly spend time with them and talk your heart out without fear of being judged.

Dick in Nightwing costume, who crashed Jason's 'date' and busted a guy's knees : "Jason, he's bad news and you know it. I know you're better than this. So, why? I—why would you put yourself through that?"

Jason, who already had a few drinks and more emotional than usual : "Oh, I don't know? Maybe I want to feel wanted and desired, even if it's just for one night. I can handle it. I'm an adult, I can make decisions for myself."

Dick, heartbroken by Jason's words and wanted to comfort him : "Oh, Jason. I know how lonely it is sometimes. But this is wrong. I know you are an adult and a damn capable one, it's just... I don't want you to get hurt."

Jason, holding back tears : "I know. I know it's wrong. Anything could happen but what choice do I have? Everytime I try to be close with another, it doesn't work out. I tried, Dick. I really tried, believe me."

Dick, nodding through the whirlwind of emotions : "Yeah, Jason. I believed you... Can I hug you?"

Jason answered with a silent nod, allowing himself be hugged by his older brother's strong arms. He returned the embrace, closing his eyes as he inhaled Dick's scent and basked in his warmth. Dick smelled of vanilla and sandalwood, sweet and soothing. He feels like safety, comfort, and home. The Wayne Manor is miles away yet Jason feels at home in Dick's embrace. Because home is not the building, it's the people within the building.

[justkeepshippingg]

Cherry bomb Part 2: a Caitvi Hate fuck fanfic

Vi's POV.

Summary: Caitlyn goes to rescue fight-club-always-fucked-up Violet (s2, episode 5) from the bar. Instead, she finds herself led back to her apartment. They realize they have nothing to lose. It gets slutty. Part 2/?? How do you love a woman and fuck her like you don’t? 

Part one: Cait's POV

Caitlyn rolls her eyes, a giggle spilling forward that turns into a grunt when Vi unceremoniously shoves both fingers deep inside of her. Caitlyn aches with need, and she wraps her arms around Violet’s broad back, her shoulders hunching forward as she tries to get as close to Vi as possible. She squeezes her cunt against Violet’s fingers and it’s Vi’s turn to cuss. Push and pull; Caitlyn ruts her hips forward and Vi digs her black-painted fingers into Cailtyn’s hot, pallid hip, squeezing the flesh and holding her in place. Vi shifts tactics, turning her fingers over inside of Caitlyn – and making her laugh with the shock of it – and rubbing that spongey, wet patch right inside of her aching cunt. Caitlyn’s head falls forward, her breath coming hot and heavy in Vi’s ear.

“You sound incredible,” Vi says. “I could listen to you for..”

Forever, Caitlyn hears.

Vi must realize, because she drops to her knees, her fingers sliding out of Caitlyn with a wet sound so simultaneously sexy and disgusting that Caityn flushes from her cheeks all the way down the tops of her tits.

Vi drops her cheek to Caitlyn’s thigh, staring straight at her cunt as she asks,

“Are you ready for more?”

Vi is biting down hard on her own lip as she stares into the deepest part of Caitlyn, and it’s not just because her cunt is this perfect layered blossom of delicious purples and cherry pinks and blood-reds. It’s because of that, obviously, this is Cait we’re talking about, her Cait, but not her Cait anymore, and fuck she’s still kind of drunk but fuck if she isn’t locked in and fuck did she really almost say FOREVER TO THIS FANCY MOTHERFUCKER.

Vi still hasn’t kissed Cait on the mouth. They both know it. Her come is a sticky web all over Vi’s fingers, but her mouth is in the clear. Something about it feels too intimate, which is stupid since they’ve kissed, oh, a zillion times? But Vi is still so angry and she doesn’t want to give apparently-not-Ghost-Cait everything she wants. She wants to keep something for herself.

She wants to give Cait something to want after this is over.

When Cait ruined them… when she left Vi, she broke something irreparable. Vi can’t think about it. She can’t think about any of it. So she crashes out. She goes out on nights like this. She drinks something shitty and probably killing her and she doesn’t kill herself but she doesn’t not kill herself either. She scrapes away at herself bit by bit. Yeah, it’s probably like self harm, okay? Vi isn’t dumb. She knows what she’s doing to herself. She just doesn’t know how to exist in a world where this ridiculously tall woman with a dumb-beautiful face and even better heart (yeah, she hears it, gag her) isn’t hers. She doesn’t know how to get through the next day or week or month without Cait's happy-horny giggle pouring down her wet throat. She doesn’t know where to find warmth without this person that is clearly her person but who doesn’t want her.

But, right now, she does. Cait wants Vi. Vi doesn’t even have to ask. For once, she doesn’t have to wonder. She’s stared enough pussies in the face to know that this one – dripping, throbbing, practically inhaling and exhaling right in her mouth – wants her.

So does the woman attached to it.

“Vi,” Cait whines.

“What?” Vi plays with her. She matches the energy of her words with her movements and drags one finger, just her pointer finger, not the one Cait likes the most – that bitch likes her thumb, weirdo, and Vi loves her for it – across her entrance.

Cait throws her head back and moans. It’s all dark hair spilling down her back, too short to reach the table beneath her. Her narrow shoulders round and she arches. Cait’s cunt even has the nerve to shudder. Bottles jingle behind her and she swears the fire gets brighter. 

Vi smiles. She might not always get along with its owner, but Cait’s pussy lives for her.

Her and her alone.

Yeah, Vi’s been fucking a lot of women, okay? But none of them are Cait. None of them quiver like this. None of them whisper that low, guttural “fuck” quite like Cait does, her fancy ass accent going strong as she aches for her. Vi likes women. She likes to make them come. She likes to let them ride her face until their thighs are quaking and bruised. She likes to let them suck her strap until their jaws are sore and their eyes are glowing with (happy, she’s not a monster) tears. She likes the way they look when they fall undone. Even the prissiest girl becomes a mess in the right situation.

Vi likes to find said situation.

But, fuck if Vi doesn’t like to undo this girl the best of them all.

Her finger still teases at Cait’s entrance, rubbing less than an inch, back and forth, a gentle prod that doesn’t at all give Cait what she’s shivering for. Vi looks up and Cait’s eyes are locked on hers.

“You have the prettiest pussy in the city,” Vi says without meaning to.

Cait’s eyes go wide and she groans Vi’s name. “Please,” she whines. “Please.”

Vi’s face flushes. She didn’t want Cait to know how badly she wants her. Fuck. She thinks quickly, and spits right in the face of that pretty pussy.

It might be the alcohol still burning through her veins, but Vi is pretty sure Cait’s cunt opens up wide and swallows.

“Stop fucking with me,” Cait demands, but the force of her words are undermined by the gentle undercurrent in her tone of voice.

Baby blue eyes on soft gray. Memories flooding both. Touches and kisses and brushes of skin against skin. Love, most of all, love, new love that felt so… impossibly forever. That word again. Fuck.

How do you love a woman and fuck her like you don’t? 

Vi ducks her head and shoves her tongue against Cait’s clit to shut her mind off. Cait’s thighs immediately lock on Vi’s ears, and she feels more than hears the moans run down Cait’s throat, tearing through her chest and making their way down her lanky frame to meet Vi’s eardrums. Vi gives in just a bit, and moans right into Cait’s clit. She digs her short, blackened nails into Cait’s bare hips and tries to hurt the flesh there. Her own knees ache. She’s probably on those dumbass letters she kept writing to Cait because, well, she is a desperate idiot in love with a woman that she was allegedly never going to see again? But not desperate enough to mail them. Or maybe too busy fighting strangers and making them bleed and pounding shots with hotter strangers to make it to a mailbox and ruin her own life.

She hardens her tongue and begins to lick, slow and targeted, from the base of Cait’s clit above her opening to just under the head. She coaxes it forward, whispering tipsy nonsense about how pretty and lovely and sexy it is, inviting it to grow bolder, to stretch beyond its hood. She can be sweet to it because it’s not Cait, not really. This is between her and this clit, Cait be damned. And there it is, glistening and ready for her.

Vi wraps her lips around Cait’s newly visible clit and rolls her tongue over it, around it, beating it up until she knows Cait’s going to be bruised and maybe even in a little pain. Vi can feel her mouth filling with salt and wet and she drowns in it. She kneads Cait’s fleshy hips to hold her in place and keep her thrusting from ruining her and the clit’s moment. She rubs her face all over Cait, all too eagerly becoming a mess of black ink and bar sweat and Cait's precious come.

Vi'll admit it: she's pleased. She slides her face down Cait’s thigh and lays her cheek upon it, pausing until Cait looks down.

And, fuck. Cait. That face. Her high cheekbones are painted with her flush. Her pouty, girlish mouth hangs open. A flurry of curses escape from it. Her hair is trashed, sweat gluing blue baby hairs to her heart-shaped forehead.

I love you, Vi thinks. She turns and sinks her teeth into the soft belly of Cait’s inner thigh, and Cait screams out in a mixture of pain and pleasure and, even more pleased, Vi returns to Cait’s cunt. She wants to eat her. Sadly, she is neither cannibal nor vampire. But she wants a new angle.

She pivots, lifting Cait off of the table. Cait immediately wraps her legs around her, and, FUCK, they’re kissing, when did they start kissing? How did this happen? Who moved first? How did her tongue get in Cait’s mouth?

And, fuck, has Cait always tasted this good? Her sweet saliva guided into Vi’s mouth via her pink tongue, the way it blends into something that could probably just kill Vi right on the spot as it mixes with Cait’s own come in Vi’s mouth, the push and pull of lips on lips, the way they’re both grunting like they’ve lost their damn minds, Cait crawling inside of Vi with sharp nails and needy hips that buck and grind and do not apologize.

Cait’s tongue swirls along Vi’s top lip and Vi gives up on her original plans. Fuck it. She wants everything Cait has to give. Vi gives as good as she gets and lowers swiftly, letting her body hit the ground hard and hurting her own back – ever the gentleman, she thinks to herself, and then has to try to not laugh at her own quip – before she spins and shoves Cait onto the messy floor. She wants more mess.

“Take your fucking clothes off,” Vi barks.

[tboy-trash]

#also a common terf talking point that trans men are just tomboys/butches etc#does no one else remember how when celebs like elliot page come out people start fearmongering about lesbians transitioning#(but only abt lesbians transitioning to manhood and never welcoming trans women who are lesbians)

tags from @rawstrap

the concern trolling about how we're losing lesbians is so clearly reactionary garbage considering that, at least with US data, there's more out lesbians now than there's ever been . we are simply not losing lesbians. with a lesbian % 4 times higher in gen z versus both baby boomers and gen x, i'd say lesbian business is booming actually.

their problem is clearly that they do not want people to transition, which is evident from the fact that most of them are also violently transmisogynistic towards trans lesbians especially. the person i was vagueing this time seemed to not do that but like even if you pay lip service to trans women... if your analysis is "oh no we're losing the women i'm attracted to because they're transing them" you can simply go fuck yourself imho

just saw another cis GNC defender but this time the rarer type, the one concerned about the evil tumblr mob transing their poor cis lesbians. anyway. max, drop the testosterone shot you were lowering on that cis girl. ayden, stop changing the legal sex of butches. leo, no point in drawing that cis woman character with top surgery scars anymore. they caught us boys.

[sirwadewilsonfromimgur]

Deadpool and Wolverine: KCAU Christmas Special

[Authors note: it is a Christmas miracle that I got this chapter out today... Merry Christmas! The next chapters will still be Christmas themed well into the new year]

Part 3

The flight was nice, and it was pleasant to not be molested by the TSA and hobble around waiting for them to finish looking at Greg's Cain. Always annoying, what could anyone possibly sneak in a cain that wasn't an already affective weapon other than the cain itself! And don't say a sword because those cheap things can ba spotted a mile away everyone knows your gothy cain with a cobra head handle has a long knife on the end of it we here it clanging every step you take.

Ellie picked them up at the Wheeler airport, excited to see her bother and his friend.

She was right there on the tarmac. The second James was off the plane, she jumped, grabbed him in a hug, and spun him around with a strength one wouldn't suspect from the 6 foot tall women of average looking build.

I've missed you so much! Though you did spoil my fun. I was going to kidnap you myself if you didn't show up! I even had a big bag picked out, I was going to put you in!

I hope it was a nice one. You know how burlap is chaffing.

It was a big red Santa bag... wanted to be festive for dad!

Ellie was always playfully teasing of her brother... typical of most siblings... but in career and personality, she more openly took after their father Wade. Ellie was a premier assassin and jr executive of MFM "the Family business" Ellie was in charge of the black ops devision, doing "wet work" for world governments that want culpable deniability when someone turns up dead. Ellie loved her job, her dad's, and her brother and sister... everyone else should probably live in fear.

Greg looked at her, Ellie was of darker complexion than James. but in the face, you could tell they were related, James had told him that technically, she was his half-sister... but they never regard each other as such. That was his sister full stop, they grew up together and only ever knew Wade and Logan as parents.

In a bubble gum sweet voice, she informed James and Greg that this year was going to be a blowout!

It's going to be great this year, little brother Aunt Vanessa and Dermot, Uncle Colossus, Peter, Jeff, Laura, Warhead, Yukio, Dopender, Father Kurt, and Uncle Morph are all going to be at Christmas eve dinner. Dad is making his famous Lasagna and Papa cought two pheasants with his bare fucking hands for Christmas day dinner it was amazing! Don't worry, Greg. we'll have prime rib for Christmas dinner as well if you find the bird to gamey.

Wait... circle back... Uncle Morph is going to be in town... will he be staying the night?

They got him a room at the Westin Crown Center... why?

You know why!

Oh.... ooohhhh, ha! I guess Dad and Papa really are going to have a Merry Christmas.

What's wrong with having your uncle Morph staying the night? ... and why do half of the people mentioned have weird names? Morph, Warhead, Colossus?

Morph's birth name is Kevin... he just doesn't like to use it... and frankly, dads not a fan it either, so that's what we all call him. Just a preference. As for why it's a concern... I'll tell you later.

Don't be so shy, James. You brought him home for Christmas, so he must be family... its ok if he knows that our parents and uncle Morph fuck nasty any time he's in town.

Jesus christ, Ellie! You know how uncomfortable talking about them like that makes me. *visibly shudders*

I can't help that our parents are possibly the hornie-est men to ever walk the earth! Might as we joke about it.

Well, that totally makes sense about James then.

I don't like where you're going with this House!

What, the offspring of concupiscent old men is clearly bothered by overt sexuality because he, in truth. has had three divorces because he can't keep it in his perverbial pants!

I knew i liked you Greg! *laughs loudly*

I'm not a psychologist, but it sounds like he's got you nailed down, little brother

As she said this, she turned the car into the driveway of the tower they'd both called home. She again let out a chuckle when she saw in the rear view mirror the deep shade of red James was currently blushing.

One park place hadn't changed much. At least not in a way one could detect. The on-site security was now directly contracted through MFM at very reasonable rates, and every floor had been fitted with bomb resistant glass... at least since "the incident" in 2058... Logan and Wade had paid through the teeth for that little upgrade. But other than that, they were actually at peace with their neighbors. 700 W 31st Street was probably the second most secure building in the city. The only one more secure being the Federal Reserve Bank building down the street. Things were going well until they got to the 19th floor, and Greg triped James coming out of the elevator.

My dad probably saw that! Ass!

Saw what! I don't know what you're talking about. Also, are you gonna run to your daddy all week with your problems?

He's actually probably right... there are security cameras... this is the most secure floor in the building. Just our place and neighbor Dave... you're cute, Greg, but I'd take it easy joshing with your boyfriend... dad wouldn't hesitate to shoot you point blank if he thinks you're a threat to one of his babies.

He's not my boyfriend...

Sure James....

See what I have to deal with Ellie!? He breaks my heart!

They approached the ornate double doors that lead into the condo... Penthouse would be a better description. They were actually new. A veneer of teak wood covering inch thick steel with intricate carvings of bullets, swords, claws, guns, and battle scenes. It looked like it belonged on the front of a temple dedicated to God's of war and violence... Ellie put a key in the door, unlocked it, and opened it.

My babies! ... and some guy? *Sniff* Why do you smell a little like Wade!?

No sooner than they had passed the threshold like a flash Logan was on all fours running at them. Closing the distance, he pounced arms wide open, knocking all three on the ground. Sniffing them and kissing their cheeks, Logan allowed himself to go a little feral and play rough with his kits. It was the holiday season after all... The fact that Gregory was caught in the crossfire knocked on his ass into the dog pile was another problem entirely!

For the love of god, please get off my leg!

Logan stood up and helped Greg to his feet. James handed him his cain as Greg quickly pulled out a pill bottle from his jacket pocket and dry swallowed three pills.

By this time, Wade had already walked up to them.

Sorry about my husband. He's very excited to see all of you. I hope you're ok... If you're not, I hope Kitten had you sign the traditional family liability release forms...

Is that a thing now?

It's not Kitten. Wade extended a hand to Greg... he'd slipped a hundred dollars in his hand by way of apology... I know who you are! It's nice to finally meet you, James talks an unhealthy amount about you. I always did like a guy named Hugh. He said, winking at us.

*Confused* my name is Gregory House, Mr. Wilson.

Sure, it is sun-shine, also Ick don't call me that... it's Wade, or Deadpool if ya nasty...

Leaving Greg to deal with pleasantries by himself, Jams grabbed his and House's Bags. Turned right and walked down the halway like he'd done thousands of times in the past. He detected the faint smell of cigar smoke as he walked past the office. It triggered a little nostalgia. It smelled like his dad Logan and the bear hugs he'd given him when he was a child. He always fet safe in the man's massive arms... truth be told for all the madness of his father's... James always felt safe at home. They were a danger to themselves and definitely others... but not him. They'd do anything for him. He was always quietly grateful for that aspect of his childhood.

He'd walk all the way down the hall... last door on the left. His room, the room he was born in, as a matter of fact. Apart from being immaculately clean, it was just as he'd left it since he moved out. It was December. The sun was already setting over the horizon... soon, the automatic blackout curtains would come down and block the entire east wall of his room made entirely of floor to ceiling windows.

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Before that though the golden glow reflected off the fresh snow was brilliant. In the distance he could make out the top of the massive tree in the heart of crown center. The view is bitter sweet... he remembers loving christmas as a kid... it was the only time for sure that both his dad's were home and "Santa" never held back... it was always an embarrassment of riches... now... now christmas was exhausting... there was never enough time, and Wade Wilson didn't exactly loose his zeal, he got older and leaned more into to christmas... James knew he was due to get roped into a big family Christmas sooner or later... he skipped the last two Christmases... his dad face timed him so that he was sure to see the tears...

He tossed the bags on the ridiculously large Texas king bed... he'd unpack later, unless Mrs. Mangracina, the ancient cleaning lady who'd been working there since before he was born, decided to do it... not one of her official responsibilities, but she did shit like that anyway... she fancied herself a butler for the family at times. to James, she was more of a second grandma, only Italian flavored... she and his grandma Al were actually pretty close. They'd go to bingo and Mass at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Catholic Church on Broadway. She'd confided in the family that she lost her best friend when Althea passed... James fully expected her to be there at Christmas Eve dinner, not as an employee but as a guest and member of the family. A lot of people were going to be there...

If Luara was going to be here she'd take up the guest room... no one was allowed in Grandma's room since she'd passed away... house was in For a surprise... they'd be sharing a bed this week.

Later that night at dinner, Gregory had pulled all of his usual antics and made himself look like a perfect ass... he'd eaten food off James's plate... to the point of just straight-up switching plates with him. telling embarrassing stories and wildly inappropriate jokes at the table... the only people laughing, being Wade and Ellie. They didn't realize what kind of gasoline they were throwing on the fire by encouraging him... or maybe they did. Agents of chaos the both of them. Logan was stoic in the face of it as usual, while Laura actually popped her claws and announced that's enough when she thought Greg punched James a little too hard when he was punctuating a joke at his expense.

The perfect start to a week that was guaranteed to get more chaotic... shortly after Greg and James retired to his bedroom...

James had already showered and settled in to bed with a book when Greg exited the bathroom in his pajamas.

What the fuck is that!

Pointing on at the grayish blue ball of wrinkles cuddling on the bed...

It's Merry, Greg. Do you need an MRI you saw my dad feeding here when we had dinner...

Sorry, let me rephrase. Why the fuck is that... specifically why is it in the bed... Marry has always slept with me since I was little... you didn't let Hector in the Bed?

I didn't... hold on... how old is that dog?

Well, my parents had her before I was born... so tack on a few years, I'd say 47 give or take.

That's impossible...

She's like my Dad's... I'm not a hundred percent certain she can die. My Aunt Vaness told me that Mary is an alternate universe version of my dad, Wade... that's why she's always been close with me... I'm her puppy.

Kitten... puppy... you got any more weird pet names?

Why... you feeling romantic?

Greg looked at James with disgust and then shot a look at the dog with less disgust and more incredulity. Quickly changing the subject.

Thats cute and all, but I'm going to sleep on the couch. I can't have a dog jumping on me or you kicking me...

*Sigh* Greg, this bed is so big it'd take effort to kick you... but also, I promise you'd be less comfortable out there. Unless you got ear plugs.

Why?

this is the best room for the noise you can't hear anything on this side of the condo... you don't want to be within ear shot of the Master bedroom here in about an hour... even with all the soundproofing... Also, having guests in the house doesn't always stop them from fighting.

They fight, every night?

Like clock work... some nights are worse than others, sometimes they throw things... I'm almost certain they throw each other across the room. But that's not the worst of it... first comes the screams of pain... and then... I can't believe I'm saying this much less thinking about it... the screams of Ecstasy...

They fight as foreplay?

Yes, and I haven't been ok since I was 15 and figured that out... if my Grandma was still alive, she'd go into great detail about how they used to be worse.

Wait, isn't the guest room next to their room?

Laura Went to a bar, she won't be home until their *gags* done.

Fine... you and your rodent mother scoot over.

Careful how you talk to Mary... she's smarter than most people give her credit for...

Noted, I guess since she's your mom, she's in here chaparoning... so hands above the blankets tonight.

He winked at the dog, who shockingly winked back. Greg shook his head as he got into bed using a few extra pillows to build a barricade between his bad leg and Wilson who despite how big the bed was, is a notorious sleep kicker.

We'd better get some sleep... it's going to be a long week.

Wilson turned out the lights and slowly sleep overcame them.