#the first time i almost burned down the house i stopped cooking. the first time I accidentally cut myself I stopped cutting fruits n veggies

[nexttothelamp]

<3

[afewproblems]

Having depressing Steve Harrington Whump thoughts this sunny Sunday morning.

I usually headcanon Steve's parents as being neglectful and absent given their lack of screen presence in the show and thought about Steve grappling with this throughout his childhood.

Being left alone for days and eventually weeks at a time, starting much younger than was appropriate, but it was the era of latchkey kids and Richard and Darleen Harrington assumed Steve was capable enough to not really need watching. The house never burned down.

Their son was fine.

And Steve would be the first person to agree, to smile wanely while the migraines pounded in his head, a parting gift from Billy Hargrove and the and Russians. He was fine.

It was fine.

Until the spring of 1986 when all Hell literally broke loose.

During the last events of the Upside Down and the earthquakes that almost decimated Hawkins, the Harringtons finally come back to town, horrified to be called in from Indianapolis by the charge nurse at Hawkins General Hospital.

Their relationship does get a little better after nearly losing their only son. They don't talk about it, the lost years of quality time, but Steve has made begrudging peace with it and is happy to have them around now for family dinners and the holidays.

They are even fairly good about his relationship with Eddie once he finally comes out. Richard takes a little longer to warm up to the idea, but Darleen seems determined not to lose Steve again.

And things are fine for awhile, the four of them have found an equilibrium amongst each other. Richard busies himself with offering to help with repairs around their house as needed, the leaky sink in their guest bath or the backdoor that was never hung correctly. While Darleen is always quick to bring over a new recipe for them all to try at the next family dinner.

They don't talk about the fact that this is the most home cooking Steve has ever experienced in his 30 years of life or that he didn't know his dad even owned a screwdriver.

But it's fine.

They manage.

It's only after the adoption of their daughter that Steve begins to notice the changes in his parents in a way that makes his chest feel tight.

"I just, I don't get it," Steve says quietly to Eddie one summer day. Richard and Darleen are out in the yard with Abigail, playing in the sun. Abigail shakes a flower from the garden in Richard's face while he pretends to sneeze exaggeratedly, making Abigail break into peals of laughter.

Eddie frowns at Steve, watching as he crosses his arms tightly around himself.

"There has to be something going on, it doesn't make any sense how they're being with her," Steve bites out eventually. He lifts a trembling hand to his hair and tugs harshly at the roots.

"Okay woah woah," Eddie says slowly as he stops forward and gently coaxes Steve's hands away from his hair, "Stevie, sweetheart, I don't understand".

Eddie watches as Steve's gaze travels out the window once more to see Darleen lift their giggling baby girl above her head before lowering Abigail to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. Eddie smiles at the sight but it quickly vanishes as he looks back at Steve who is looking longingly at his mother.

"Because," Steve says, his voice catches on the growing lump in his throat, "if they were always capable of this, of being there, then why couldn't they do that for me?"

[notexactlyei]

cloud strife dating hcs — ★

contains both sfw and nsfw!!

mdni with nsfw parts.

contains: intentional lowercase, awkward cloud, cute cloud, dom cloud, fluff, smut, gn/fem bodied reader, gn pronouns!

sfw

- at first I feel like cloud would be a bit awkward

- he would definitely be a bit mad at himself because he's supposed to be this tough dude..

- but then you come in and BAM you're just so??? cute??? and he doesn't know how to react to cuteness so he just stands there like 🧍‍♀️ while cussing himself out in his head and being like "not cute shut up annoying annoying"

- and then you'd be all nice to him, just a genuinely kind person and he wouldn't be able to hate you

- he would just suppress his feelings like he always does but you would make it very difficult to him

- if you two were really close then he would maybe flirt a little bit considering the tifa drink scene but just a BIT

- he definitely wouldn't confess first, mans would be too scared and confused. he would think you hate him. So you would have to take the first move.

- when you do confess though, he would just.. be there.

- just stand there. shut down. aaaand... wait, is that a blush you see?!

- you would have to snap your fingers at him to actually get him to react

- "oh- uh, yeah.. I guess.. I like you too."

- he would be very doubtful and afraid that maybe you didn't actually like him, def would overthink the whole situation a lot.

- when you start dating.. he is still a bit awkward. needs some time to warm up.

- but as soon as he does, he is quite affectionate in a cloud-y way

- would scoff and roll his eyes a lot at you but that smile that he just can't get rid of when you "annoy" him tells you everything you need to know

- would love holding you and teasing you about things

- witty

- would absolutely adore it if you played with his hair

- he would just lay down on top of you, his head on your chest.. and as soon as you'd start playing with his hair, he'd make these cute little contented noises, almost catlike

- secretly plays mario kart

- no one can know this. idk why. it's cloud, okay? don't ask why playing mario kart is such a forbidden thing for him.

- one day u catch him and he just freezes.

- "hellooo earth to cloud????"

- *cloud.exe has stopped working*

- then u just take the controller in ur hands so that u could play too

- cue the most aggressive mario kart game ever

- he is SO good but at the same time he sucks ass idk how he does it. one time he's beating you by one lap next he's driving into every obstacle on the map

- ahem

- anyway

- back to fluffy cloud

- would watch you while you cook

- makes up excuses to do that

- "i need to make sure you don't burn the house down" BITCH YOU'RE THE ONE THAT TRIGGERED THE SMOKE DETECTOR LAST TIME

- again, he loves to hold you. he's usually the big spoon but sometimes he also wants to be the little spoon yk?

- poor baby's been through a lot and just needs some comfort :(

- shh there there, just pet his hair and hold him

- he might cry. it's very VERY rare but if you manage to make him feel extremely safe with you then he might cry

- give him love

- now

- NOW

- anyways

- now that I've made you all "awww that's so cute and sad"

- let's move on to smut

- nice topic contrast huh? ik ik

(ok minors now it's ur time to leave! byebyeeee <3)

NSFW

- ass guy!

- would walk behind you a lot just to get a nice view

- when you ask him about it he's like

- "i just need to make sure you're alright. what about it?"

- his fav position would probably be from the back

- would grab your throat (gently, not choking you.. unless you asked for it) or hips in that position

- considering the hand massage parlor scene, the noises he made.. I think a lot of them were suppressed too, so I think he would be pretty vocal if you dommed him

- but here's the thing

- he won't let you

- he is your dom

- first couple sessions he's really gentle

- but oh boy after that

- this boy is rough!!!

- would want you to sit on his lap a lot, which would usually lead to other things ;)

- "sit on my lap"

- "but-"

- "sit. now."

- yessir thank you sir

- would prefer receiving over giving, but he would still love giving.. he'd just love the sight of you choking and gagging on him so so beautiful <3

- when he'd give you oral he'd go ham

- he wouldn't really care if you tried to squirm away, he would just grab your hips to keep you in place

- "stay still"

- loves your cute little sounds

- when you're just bouncing on top of him but suddenly you stop cause you just can't take it anymore, he grabs your hips and just moves you up and down

- if you were being a sassy brat or made him jealous then oh god prepare yourself

- bro will NOT go easy on you

- will not use toys - he would show you how good he is without them

- loves when you wear his clothes

- can be sweet and passionate at times

- when he finally lets you dom him (which takes a lot of convincing)

- his whines and whimpers are just so heavenly. like OH MY GOD.

- secretly enjoys being overstimulated

a/n: I might update/edit this :)

[magics-neptunes-things]

Private Practice

Hi guys!

It’s a new one-shot for my series "Lia & The Firefighter", but like the others you can read this one without having read the others.

It's from a request here and I already have another one for this serie and that makes me very happy because I like this one :)

TW : None, I think?

For once, saying goodbye to Lia for your double shift wasn’t too hard. You knew that her and the Arsenal’s women team would come at almost the end of your shift to the fire station. After what happened to Frida during the finale for the ContiCup, Arsenal’s staff decided to organize a formation about first aid.

You have been with Lia for almost three years now, so the team heard about you several times and they all know what you are doing for a living. That’s why they decided to contact your fire station, after asking Lia if she was okay with that.

She was and you were too, of course. You love your job and being able to talk about it is always something you find great. You weren’t in the stand when Frida went down, but you are secretly relieved to know that people around Lia will be more aware of what to do if something happens to your girlfriend while you are not around.

Your shift was pretty calm this time, of course you had emergencies, but nothing was too complicated. You even had time to eat sitting on a chair, which is something you sometimes can’t do.

Before they come, you take a shower and wash your hair, wanting to be as prepared as possible. You help your Commander to prepare the things you will need for the course and write some reports to pass time.

“Y/L/N, they are here!”

You smile while you finish writing your last sentence before getting up from your chair. You know that you won’t be able to kiss Lia like you do when you go home but seeing her when you aren’t supposed to makes you happy.

You, your Commander and two other firefighters are present for the course. The girl and the team are already here when you join them in the hangar, where the trucks are parked.

You can’t help but look at Lia, who is beautiful as always. She calls you cheesy when you swear that you don’t even look at other women since you have her in your life, but it’s true. No one can fight with her. She’s your perfection.

“So, Y/N, which one am I not authorized to flirt with?” teases one of your colleagues.

“No one, if you don’t want to explain to your wife why you have a broken jaw.”

It makes him chuckle, but he stops really quickly when he sees your burning gaze. You are overprotective with Lia, it’s not something new for anyone. You never let her carry anything, you always cook when you can and you insist that she rests when you are both at home, pushing her to lie down on the couch while you are cleaning or doing the laundry.

But since you saved Alessia from that stupid man in a nightclub several months ago, you also started to go out more with them. They slowly became your friends and you have the tendency to protect your friends too. Nothing to do with how you behave with Lia naturally, but Alessia still started to call you her bodyguard since that day.

You address a wink at your girlfriend when she looks back at you, standing between Steph and Leah, before going back to your work face. Arms crossed on your chest, you listen to your Commander talking about how the emergencies are working. You already know that of course. But you are still listening, giving your Captain the attention he deserves from you.

“How do you let her leave the house when she’s dressed like this? She’s so hot” Kyra whispers in Lia’s ear.

Alessia next to her giggles and even if she slaps Kyra’s arm, Steph can’t hide the smile on her face.

You are not wearing all your uniform, only your fire pants and your navy polo, with your black boots.

“Leave her alone” Leah whispers, passing her arm around Lia’s shoulders.

Leah knows how secretive and prudent Lia is about your relationship; you are still a secret for the rest of the world. Only your friends and family know about you. You have to admit that it works perfectly for you too.

“Thanks” Lia mumbles to Leah.

“She’s right, though. This uniform is something else” Leah smirks.

Lia rolls her eyes and smiles too. Even if your job scares her to death sometimes, she’s still proud about you.

After those explanations, your Captain separates the team into three groups. You are assigned to the cardiac massage, while another group will go to theory and the last group will have false emergency scenarios to work on.

You greet the girls with a smile, you know them pretty well now. Caitlin and Katie are in this group, and you can’t help but smile when you realize that they manage to be together for that too. You know that Caitlin is Lia’s ex, of course. But you never had any problem with her, Caitlin always has been respectful and her having her own girlfriend now put an endpoint about any rivalry who might have existed.

Katie is in fact one of the girls you get along with the best. She teases you every time about your relationship with Lia, but she’s very fond of her girlfriend too. So, you don’t hesitate to tease her back and you always have fun together.

But today you are very concentrated, and the girls all have a little reminder about how impressed they were by you. Now they know that your closed face is a barrier to the world and that inside you are as soft as a marshmallow. And that you are wrapped around Lia’s little finger.

The second group includes Kyra with Kim and Steph, and you wonder if they put the young Australian with the two other women to make her behave. She’s in fact very concentrated too and is one of the best at cardiac massage.

“Pretty impressive” you say to Kyra after having checked the consistency of her massage.

“Thanks” she answers proudly before sticking her tongue to Steph.

You roll your eyes and smile, for the first time since you began the course. Seems like she can’t stay serious for too long anyway.

The last group comprises Leah, Alessia but especially Lia. You are eager to have your girlfriend next to you, even if you have to stay professional. Which you do very well to be honest, if the others didn’t know you were dating, no one could have guessed.

“Hi” you smirk at Lia when it’s her turn to do the cardiac massage.

“Hello” she smiles back.

Just like the others, you look at Lia working, telling the things to change when needed. You take on yourself not to look at her with your habitual loving eyes, keeping it professional once again. Even when her perfume tickles your nose and the fact that you could completely let your gaze go on the southern part of her anatomy.

The tiredness you usually feel when you are at the end of your shift isn’t here today either, thanks to your girlfriend and her friends.

After all the girls and the rest of the team have passed, you meet one last time in the hangar. Once again you listen carefully to what your Captain is saying. You just look quickly at the clock on the wall, happy to learn that you only have twenty minutes left before being authorized to go home.

Several minutes later, Arsenal’s team is leaving. Not without having a paper signed by your Captain.

“Wait for me?” you whisper to Lia when the girls come to thank you.

She smiles and nods, before leaving with the others. You look at her leaving, before turning to your colleagues.

“Nice of you to have kept your hand for yourself” one of them teases again.

You frown and open your mouth to answer but your Commander, still in the room, doesn’t hesitate to intervene sharply.

“I think there are still trucks that need to have their equipment updated. It will maybe be more interesting than gossip.”

Your colleague blushes but nods before leaving the hangar. You don’t flinch when your Captain turns in your direction.

“Y/L/N, you’re dismissed.”

You nod and hide a smile, thanking your Captain before leaving. You hurry to change and freshen up a little, before almost running out to find Lia. She’s waiting for you, standing in a corner of the yard. You can’t hide the smile this time, happy to finally have her for you.

“Hi Beautiful” you smile, passing your arms around her waist.

“Hi”

You sigh of well-being by feeling it against you, closing your eyes briefly. You missed her during those last two days, even if you were able to exchange some messages during this time.

“I missed you” you mumble, your face in her hair.

You let her cup your face between both of her hands, looking at you for several seconds before talking. You let her do it. You hated that when you started dating, but now you’re much more comfortable when she does it. It feels like she’s scanning your soul.

“How tired are you?” she finally asks.

“I’m okay. Why?”

“Would you mind showing me around the station?”

You hesitate for some seconds, before nodding and taking her by the hand. Lia never came inside the fire station, even if she has already picked you up from work several times.

“I need to ask my Commander before” you inform Lia while entering the fire station.

You don’t let Lia’s hand go when you enter it, going right to the office where you know you will find him. You wait politely for his authorization to enter after you knock, entering discreetly into his office.

“I was wondering if you would allow me to show Lia the station, my Commander” you ask, standing straight.

He gives a big smile to Lia. He always has loved her; you don’t know why. He even menaces you to kick your ass if you do something bad to her. But there is not a single chance in the world for you to do that. You haven’t told him that way, but Lia is the love of your life.

“Sur. Just be careful not to disturb your colleagues who are still working”

“Of course, Sir. Thank you very much”

You nod and offer him a smile, before grabbing Lia’s hand again to drag her outside the office. You hear him adding something just before you close the door.

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Lia.”

Lia giggles and the sound alone makes you smile. You take her against you to kiss her cheek, now you are alone there is no one to tease you. You can see her smile under your lips. She’s bashful about your relationship, but the tenderness between you is here at any moment of the day.

You take your girlfriend to visit the different rooms of the fire station. On the ground floor there are different garages and a changing room with some bathrooms. On the first floor, there are the different classrooms that Lia already knows because that’s where the Arsenal’s girls have spent their last hours. There is the cafeteria too and what you all call the living room. In this room there is a TV, a baby-foot table and some comfortable couches.

And on the last floor, there are bedrooms, showers and a balcony. It’s where you finish your tour, letting Lia look at the view. It’s not very amazing to be honest, the station is in the city. So, it’s basically buildings and cement.

“So? What do you think?” you ask your girlfriend after some minutes.

You smile when she turns in your direction again. She’s wearing her Arsenal’s outfit, but you love it inside. You can’t explain why you find her in a kit particularly sexy. She’s wearing a jogging today though, but she’s amazing anyway.

“It seems great” Lia smiles. “But I think I understand even more now why you crave a bath when you come home after your shift”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. Having a bathtub was one of your criteria when you were looking for an apartment. You told Lia once and she keeps teasing you about it. But she’s not wrong, you usually go straight for a hot bath when you come home. If Lia can be inside the water with you, it’s just like heaven.

You made her swear to keep your obsession for Lush bath bombs secret, though.

“Are you ready to go home?” you ask Lia.

“I am” she smiles.

She’s the one who takes your hand this time, but you follow her without any doubt. You just go to the changing room to grab your things before going to the parking lot to find your car.

“You are coming to mine, right?” you frown suddenly after having started the car.

“Yes, unless you don’t want me there” Lia smirks.

You don’t even respond, you just snort. If you could, you would probably spend every second of the day with her. And it seems to be a good enough answer for Lia, because your girlfriend only smiles and looks through the window.

A comfortable silence begins after that. And, just when you take a look at your girlfriend, you can only feel relaxed. There’s no place you’d want to be but here. You know you will have an amazing evening, with a bath, a homemade poke bowl just like Lia proposed to cook for you and definitely cuddles in front of the TV.

Once again, you couldn’t ask for more. Or better.

[gfguren]

pro hero!bakugou x reader | fluff, a little bit domestic, a little bit intimate, a little bit suggestive? (not really) | cw: cursing, a very modest bath scene

-bakugou only knows how to give, you wish he'd let you do the same for him-

Thinking about the newly domestic give and take between you and Katsuki. It doesn't come naturally to him. He's hell bent on doing everything himself, at first. That's the way he's always lived after all—hyper self-sufficient, independent to a fault, and so goddamn stubborn about it all.

It makes you feel almost useless, his insistence on doing everything, not only for himself but for you as well. Honestly, you should have expected it; he was like that well before moving in together. Taking all the responsibilities on himself, wrangling you out of the way when you so much as try to help, because he "feels like it", or he's "better at it", or "just move, f'r I make ya".

But you were a guest in his house, then—so you let him have his way, bullheaded as it was. Now that you share a house—a home—you want nothing more than to take care of it, of him.

Though moving mountains would be easier than convincing him to accept it.

You try brute force, first. And it goes as well as you might expect, like throwing pebbles at a brick wall. Putting yourself between him and the dishes is just as futile; he cooked dinner, you should be the one to do this. It's only fair. Still, he takes it upon himself to pick you up and physically remove you from 'his' spot by the sink, ugly yellow gloves dripping dishwater all the way to the counter.

The floor is completely soaked by the time he plops you down on the countertop, as are your jeans, your flailing arms and exasperated "Katsuki!" having done little to deter him. Your mouth opens in protest but his hands, firm at your sides and eyes, red, and stern and definite leave no room for discussion.

So you try to 'talk about it', second. When his mood has cooled and he's feeling a little sweet. He usually is, when hero work has worn him down, chipped away at his fire until there's nothing left but his worn down bones and the aching desire to be enveloped in you—his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair.

He's nothing but mush in your arms by the time you bring it up, nearly two hundred pounds of limp muscle, eyes half lidded, and slow, warm breath. You think he doesn't hear you at first, more likely he pretends not to; but then you hear a half-hearted, "hmph". And you sigh.

"I'm serious, Kats." you rake your fingers across his scalp absently and he groans in appreciation, furling into you more. "You can't do everything, just look at you."

He peers up at you with one eye, an almost glare, more playful than anything; too tired for anything more. He huffs gently, warm breath across your chest when you don't back down. "We'll talk about it later."

'Later'; meaning never. Still, you don't press him. Not when he's so tired, not when this small moment of peace is all he allows you to offer him.

Ever predictable; there isn't a later, and he finds a way to avoid the conversation, in one way or another. Over and over and over again. You're at the end of your rope just trying to get him to listen.

So you try a last ditch effort at patience, at compromise (usually a losing battle, with him); working him over, little by little.

And it works, mostly.

You find that, most times, you can slip past him while he's cooking to steal the dirty mixing bowls and discarded pans; wash them while he's preoccupied trying not to burn the chicken or fretting over cutting the vegetables 'just right'. That him doing the cooking is non-negotiable, but he'll let you help as long as you stop trying to kiss him while he's "tryin' to make y'r dinner over here, god damnit".

(Don't let him fool you, he likes it).

That it takes you far too long to realize how much he craves being asked for 'help', instead of your usual insistence on helping him. That when he feels appreciated and useful, he's almost eager to share the housework with you, looking almost boyish standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets, the tepid scowl twisting his pretty face betrayed by the blush creeping up the back of his neck when you hum a lilted, "Thank you, Katsuki".

Your strategy's not foolproof, of course; he's still quick to steal whatever you're working on once he's finished his, itching to make himself busy once more.

But it's progress.

Still, no matter how much you try, or how long you pester him, he puts his foot down at taking care of him while he's sick, while he's training or on patrol. Anything that could end with you hurt, or put you in harms way is a hard 'no'—always, always, always.

That's not to say he doesn't let you take care of him ever. Though it was more hassle than it should have been, getting him to just sit comfortable instead of disappearing into the bath for hours, or taking his frustrations out on his poor, battered training equipment.

These days, when he's had an especially tiring evening, he'll sink down into the sofa without you having to say a thing, let you press your fingers into his shoulders and down his spine until the knots unwind. That occasionally he'll let you take him by the hand even, coax him gently into warm water and vanilla scented bubble bath.

That he becomes particularly docile when you're massaging your flowery conditioner into his wily blonde hair. The scent of you—over his waist, around his shoulders, in his hair—it's almost intoxicating, and he wraps his arms around you, like he's desperate for more, burying his face in your chest; sighs like he's at ease for the first time in his life.

It isn't easy, teaching Katsuki to take—but when he lays down with you at night, his eyes are a little brighter, hands hold you a little tighter, a little longer than when all he knew was how to give, give, give. And when his lips find yours, and you can feel his smile against them, you figure all the trouble is worth it.

And when he rolls the both of you over til you're pinned beneath heavy thighs, impish grin on his lips and calloused fingers beneath your shirt, trouble and promise brewing behind his newly fired eyes, well that's just a bonus.

[penkura]

Plz do a Husband corazon + child Law for mother's day 💐💛

Y E S omg I love Corazon, he'd be such a great husband and father. 🥺 On par or even better than Sanji imo.

I hope you don't mind that Corazon and the Reader have a biological daughter as well, I just thought it would be cute!! I also made this a modern AU one, because damn it, Corazon deserved to be happy. :'(

(Note: This is out of order from all requests simply due to the theme. I have made progress on the others!)

Corazon would have a whole plan, partly put together by thirteen-year-old Law and your toddler, Evangeline. Your daughter would draw you a card, while Corazon and Law focused on making you breakfast and of course, it would go all kinds of wrong.

You wake up to hushed shouting between your husband and adoptive son, Law telling Corazon he's going to burn the bacon and to stop smoking while he cooks. Your husband retorts that it's fine, nothing bad is going to happen. He's not going to set anything on fire, unlike at Christmas. For a few minutes you lay there on your phone, listening to your family down the hall. Evangeline eventually comes into your bedroom, pulling on your blanket and calling for you to pay attention to her.

“Mommy, mommy!”

You roll over and lift her up into your bed, giving her a tight hug while she laughs and returns it. What a joy she is, that last nearly three years have been a blessing with her and Law around, you wouldn’t change it for the world. Yes, some people have given your small family odd looks—what are two twenty-six-year-olds doing with a toddler and a teenager?—but you’ve learned to tune them out and ignore them. It didn’t matter what others thought, they could assume you’d had a teen pregnancy all they wanted. It wasn’t the truth, but some wouldn’t even listen or believe you. After all, you’d tried to explain it to your coworkers when you and Corazon adopted Law just before Evangeline was born, but even those close to you didn’t understand it.

“What’ve you got there, Evie?”

“Your gift!” She beams at you and holds the card she’d made out, the biggest grin on her little face. Just as planned, it’s a card she scribbled together, you can recognize your husband’s handwriting to make the words legible, but it’s still adorable that she tried so hard to make you something. There’s a cute little drawing of your family in the card, making you smile and hug her again,

“Thank you, Evie! I—” you’re stopped by the smell of smoke before the smoke detector goes off and kick off your blanket, running down the hall with your daughter in your arms and hearing Law yell that everything is fine, though you’re at the kitchen doorway before he finishes speaking. “What is happening?!”

Law turns to you and points at Corazon, who is waving a towel over the completely burnt bacon to try and get the smoke and smell out the window. “He burned breakfast again!”

“Not like you were helping, little shi—” Corazon stops himself when you send him a glare and cover Evangeline’s ears, shaking your head at him. After the one time she said ‘bastard’, you’d been very watchful of what words were said in your house, “Look, it’s fine! We can salvage it!”

“No, we can’t! It’s burnt black!”

Corazon ignores Law’s complaints for the moment, coming over to kiss your forehead and smile at Evangeline. “Did you give mommy her card?”

“I did!”

“That’s my girl!” Evangeline giggles while Corazon turns back to kiss you as a proper good morning. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

“Thank you, beloved.”

You’re briefly interrupted by a fancy bouquet of flowers being shoved between the two of you, Law looking away shyly as he holds them there for you, his own gift for you for the day that makes you almost cry and heart ache. He’d been with you as your son for the last three years, but this was the first time he’d given you anything on this day. You’ll never truly take the place of his mother, like Corazon won’t really take his father’s place and Evangeline his sister’s, but you’re glad for the smallest bit of progress that has him viewing you all as his family, and you hope for him to continuing viewing you all in that light, even as he grows up and out of your home one day.

“…Happy Mother’s Day.”

Crouching down enough to be eye level with him, you give Law a kiss on the forehead and a smile.

“Thank you so much, Law. I love them.”

[kawoala]

𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐓 𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐒 — tanaka ryuunosuke.

﹙ word count ﹚: 1,691 ﹙ content warning ﹚: best friends to lovers. realization of feelings. angst? shirtless tanaka. chest pains? mention of underage alcohol consumption. profanity. smau at the end. anxiety. texting while driving. i lowkey do not like how this ended up, but hey! at least there’s a post! if this flops i’m deactivating.

“You know you have your own clothes, right?”

The voice floats through the kitchen, gravely and coated in tiredness. You hum, pushing the eggs around with the spatula once more before turning around and meeting his droopy gaze. You don’t have to look down to know he’s referring to the sweatshirt that you’re wearing. It’s too big, almost reaching mid-thigh, but you don’t care.

“You know you have clothes, right?” You mock, gesturing to his shirtless torso. Tanaka has always slept in as little clothes as possible—claims they make him feel trapped when he sleeps. As his best friend, you had to familiarize yourself with it at a young age. “I mean, seriously, every time I stay over? Dude, your sister’s going to think we’re being, like, freaky, or something.”

He snickers, rubbing a hand through what little hair he has, then trudges his way over to the island and sits down at one of the stools. “I’m ninety percent sure she already thinks that, but whatever.” He yawns and shifts his eyes to the stove, where you're cooking eggs. “Aw, Y/n, you didn’t have to make me breakfast.”

You raise a brow, glancing back at the pan. “Who said this was for you? You don’t even like scrambled eggs.”

“You’re making breakfast in my house and didn’t make me any?”

“Um, duh.”

He laughs and when you meet his eyes once again, a dull ache in your chest surprises you. The smile on your face falters and you have to grab the counter to stop yourself from stumbling. It hits you so suddenly, so forcefully. You blink a couple times, trying to gather your bearings.

“Woah, you good, dude?”

Dude. You don’t know why, but the word echoes around your mind, bounces off the walls, hitting every crease and shoving itself into your bloodstream. This has to be a medical emergency—you feel like you’re dying. How can you be dying when you were perfectly fine just a few moments ago?

“Y/n?” He’s standing now, already made his way over to you. When did he get up? Has he always been this tall? You can feel his body heat radiating off of him, seeping in through the fabric of the sweatshirt. “Dude. You’re freaking me out. Do I need to call 119?”

“I’m fine,” you force out, voice strained. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. “I… need to pee.” You push past him, abandoning your eggs, and the bathroom door shuts behind you with a soft click.

Suddenly, the feeling is gone. Your chest no longer aches, your heart beat can no longer be felt, your balance has been restored. You lean forward, putting your hands on your knees, and take a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Ex—

“Y/n?” There’s a knock at the door. Your heart starts to beat faster again. “Did you, like, pass out, or something? I’m gonna be super pissed if I have to put on a shirt for the ambulance people.”

“Ambulance people?” You repeat, not being able to stop the laugh that bubbles up. “You’re so dumb sometimes, I swear. I’m fine. Just needed to pee.”

“Girl.”

You smile, but shake your head. “I’m serious. Go turn the stove off before my eggs burn, thanks.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then footsteps retreating to the kitchen. You stand parallel to the door, back pushed against it, then slide down to the floor. And then it hits you—it hits you so hard that you get nauseous.

Even though it’s never been this strong, you’ve had this feeling before.

In first year, when he forced you to help him bleach his hair—he claimed you had to do it because he didn’t trust Saeko. Looking back, he definitely should have let Saeko do it. 

Summer after second year, when he’d practically kidnapped you in the middle of the night, dragged you into his car, and drove for two hours just so you two could be first in line at a shop newly selling blind boxes of your favorite figures.

A couple months after that, when he’d thrown you a movie-style party to celebrate your early acceptance to university. Later that night when you sat in the bathroom, crying about leaving as he hugged you close to his chest.

You never quite knew what it was, always assumed it was the result of the environment—the chemicals of the bleach getting to your brain, the tiredness messing with your critical thinking, the alcohol finally kicking in.

But a part of you always knew what it was. Always knew that you loved him.

You let your head drop, chin to your chest, and take another deep breath. This can’t be happening. Maybe there’s a gas leak and it’s making you crazy. Maybe you got into an accident and now you’re in a coma, imagining this whole thing.

Another knock at the door startles you. Your head whips up so fast, you nearly hit it on the door. “Yeah?” You call out, voice shaky. You’re not sure how to face him after this revelation.

“Are you taking a shit? You’ve been in there for ten minutes and I really gotta pee. Also, your eggs are burnt.”

You press the palms of your hands to your eyes and grit your teeth. You’re quiet for a long moment, until he says your name again. “Dude, chill out. Go pee outside. You’re a guy and your backyard is fenced off; no one will see your little pecker.”

“Okay, first of all, it’s not little. Second—”

“Tanaka.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hurry up. We have to meet Noya at the park in, like, twenty minutes.” For the second time, you hear him walk away, then hear the sliding door open and close.

Should you tell him? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? You can’t tell him, can’t risk the friendship—right? You’ve been friends since before middle school. Tanaka and his sister and his dad are like family to you. You don’t know where you would be without them. You can’t tell him.

But… What if he does feel the same way? What if he’s too nervous to tell you, scared that it will ruin the friendship. What if he’s spent hours ranting to Noya about you and everything that makes his chest ache? What if he had a sit down with Saeko and told her about how he feels and she just hit him on the head and told him to man up? What if? What if? What if?

The sliding door opens again and you can hear him walk into the living room. He flops down on the couch like usual—you can tell because of the squeak the couch lets out, protesting against his body weight.

Shakily, you stand and put your hand on the doorknob. You spare a quick glance to the mirror, eyes flitting to the sweatshirt you wear. Truthfully, you had bought it for Tanaka knowing you were going to be wearing it at some point.

You don’t why, but you get a burst of courage. You open the door and stomp out to the living room, a determined look on your face. “Tanaka.” He hums, but doesn’t bother looking at you, engrossed in whatever is on the TV. “Ryuunosuke,” you try again. 

This time, he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Ew. Don’t use my government name, that’s weird.”

“What? You use my government name.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Actually, you know what, that’s not important.” You shake your head, rolling your eyes. “I have something to tell you.”

He drops the remote and half sits up, arm slung over the back of the couch. You will yourself not to look down at his abs that are no doubt flexed. All the courage running through your body previously, disappears.

“What’s up?” His confusion is so innocent. He has no idea what you’re about to say. He has no idea that you’re about to ruin your friendship. Maybe you shouldn’t say anything.

“I…” You trail off. It feels like your throat is swelling, closing in on itself. Maybe today is the day you die. It’s the second time you’ve felt on the verge of death—maybe it’s a sign. “I’m in—“ you stop yourself once again. Your fingers pull together, pulling, twisting, picking at the skin. “I have to go home. My mom texted me and said there was a family emergency.”

Lying to your best friend doesn’t feel good. You’re not a saint, you lie to other people quite a bit. Stupid, meaningless lies. Like your cousins with a celebrity, or that you’ve been out of the country. Lying about this, though, feels wrong. Especially to Tanaka.

He sits up fully now, brows pinching together in concern rather than confusion. “Oh, shit. What happened? Is your mom okay?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth and shrug. “I don’t know. She… didn’t tell me.” This sucks. “I’m gonna go now, though, ‘kay? I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“Uh, yeah, okay.” He nods and stands, eyeing you suspiciously. You can tell when Tanaka is lying, why did you assume he wouldn’t be able to tell when you lie? “Drive safe,” he mumbles.

You wordlessly slip your shoes on, eyes glued to the ground. You wrap your fingers around the doorknob, but hesitate, looking back at him once more. “Ryuunosuke,” you whisper.

“Yeah?” He rubs a hand over his head, other hand on his hip.

“I think…” You swallow hard. It’s now or never. You open the door and step halfway out. “The reason I went into the bathroom so suddenly… I think making breakfast was too domestic for me. It made my heart ache. It was something I couldn’t have and…” You shake your head, letting a sarcastic laugh out. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”

The door shuts behind you and you shiver against the breeze of an early autumn day. You get in your car and don’t move until you’re around the corner, his house no longer in sight. Your phone buzzes in the passenger seat, where you threw it.

[braxlrose]

i read your tom kaulitz weird and silly headcanons and i can't stop laughing 😭 wtf it's 4 am.. anyway will you do the same headcanons only with bill, pretty please?🤭 i know one hundred percent that this little bastard isn't so innocent what he looks like.. i'm sure he's as dirty as Tom 😭 btw sorry engilsh is not my first language ☠️ Greetings from Poland!!:)

(his skirt is so cute?!?)

Cześć jeszcze raz! Rzadko spotykam Polaków, więc cieszy mnie możliwość ćwiczenia języka polskiego!

also his skirt is super cute omg

silly and weird bill headcanons

cw: mentioned oral(f and m!recieving), making out, nipple play?, etc

-you are completely right, this mf is far from innocent 💀 tom is seen as the dirty minded one but this little shit would make the most dirty fucking jokes every and then act all innocent LIKE BITCH

-he's also passive aggressive. like very passive aggressive. pookie can't help it 😪

-the first time you, him and tom all got high together he got super paranoid and thought that you guys were all just figments of a dog's imagination

-when you guys are spooning, he reaches underneath your shirt and cups your boobs. it helps him fall asleep quicker apparently

-but sometimes when he's feeling like a little shit, he'll tweak and pull at your nipples and you have to slap him away. so then you make him promise not to do it again. spoiler alert. he does it again 😐

-hes an impatient mf so the amount he's burned his tongue after heating up a pop tart 😒 like bitch..just wait the two fucking minutes

-he loves kissing your temple and your forehead

-during the winter, if his hands are cold he asks if he can put his hand in your pants. 💀 like that's his exact words. "Can I put my hand down your pants?" he says it's because you're warmer down there than he is, but I think it's just cuz he's a dirty minded little fuck

-when cooking marshmallows over the fire, it's a 50/50 thing. Sometimes he's super patient and will wait and make his marshmallows a crispy, perfect golden brown color and other times he gets to lazy and will just shove it in the fire.

-he also thinks it's like the coolest thing in the entire world when his whole marshmallow is on fire

-he didn't know how to snap until he was like 16 and always got mad whenever tom could do it 😭

-he was super happy when he realized that he was the taller twin bc tom was allllwayyss talking about how he was 10 minutes older.

-YOU GUYS GOT MATCHING TATTOOS

-he literally loves getting matching tattoos with you, he thinks it's so cute and fucking loves it. somehow he convinced the both of you to get some dumb ones 💀

-when you two were little kids he used to beg the teacher to make you, him and tom partners. lil bro would get down on his knees

-speaking of getting down on his knees, the first time he went down on you he "accidentally" 🤨 bit your clit. I still say he did it on purpose though

-you guys know that thing that Gomez does with Morticia when she reaches her arms to the side and he kisses from her finger tips to the other finger tips? yall know what I'm talking about? WELL BILL DOES THAT

-he likes to sleep naked sometimes. because it's "better for sleeping" but I think it's just because he wants to sleep next to naked you.

-almost drowned tom at the pool 💀...multiple times

-him and tom make you sit by the pool and then make you tell them who's cannon ball was better. and this isn't just a like 16 yr old boy thing. they do this at 33 too.

-bill once stood up upside-down on a keg and drank it 😧. not the whole thing but it was super crazy. you later found out it was because tom didn't think he would do it

-he once jerked off in class and found a way so nobody would notice him EXCEPT YOU 😨 MF YOU WERE TRAUMATIZED

-he also doesn't know how to lock a door. so you'll just walk in and he'll be jerking off, or you'll turn a corner in his house and he'll be jerking off, you go to use the bathroom and he'll be jerking off. "I'm a teenage boy it's what we do!" BRUH GET A HOBBY

-if you don't know german, he'll randomly say dirty stuff to you in german. BUT THEN PROCEED TO GET MAD AT TOM IF HE TEACHES YOU BAD WORDS IN GERMAN 🙄

-he loves sitting in your lap when making out. like obviously he loves it when you sit in his lap, but he LOVES when he gets to sit on top of you and kiss you

-the first time he tried to give you hickies, he wasn't completely sure how to and ended up biting you 💀

-he's not a morning person, we all know this. so if you want to get him out of bed, you will have to drag him out by his feet.

-his dick is big. we all know this, but the first time you tried to give him oral, he accidentally slapped your face w/ his dick 😭

ANYWAYYSSS TY SM FOR THE REQUEST POOKIE I HOPE MY POLNISCH WASNT TOO BAD

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @dead-tapes @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles

[ellie-r2]

Musical Curtis brothers hcs

Darry:

-Felt insecure and jealous of Dally because of his closeness to Pony and it got worse after Pony leaves and Dally says that thing of seeing Pony more than Darry has.

-Like Ponyboy he blames himself for their parents' death because of it being his birthday and they were going for the frosting for his cake.

-Post musical whenever things get too much he goes to Soda and he cries but will quickly stop and hide it when he hears Ponyboy nearby (he doesn't want Pony to see him break)

-Despite that when they reunited in the hospital after the fire just like in the movie he did cry when going to hug Ponyboy.

-He does go easier on Ponyboy about his daydreams/emotions and his grades after reading the story because he saw how Ponyboy viewed him.

-Even though he is only 6yrs older than Ponyboy the role of brother is starting to fade into father ("stuck between the role of a brother and a father")

-Tucks in the boys each night but after they're already sleeping totally not based off of Melody's live.

-Whenever he misses his parents he sleeps in their room instead of his own.

-Used to care what his hair would look like now it's a miracle if he even takes time to brush it.

-On his days off instead of relaxing he still tries to keep working (washing dishes/laundry/cleaning random parts of the house) until Soda has to force him to just sit down and rest.

-Still tries to play football whenever he can but waits for someone to suggest it first (it's Soda who does it because he knows Darry wants to play).

-When Soda has a long day at work or Pony has a test coming up Darry tries to make their favorite food for dinner.

Soda:

-He has his own room but still sleeps with Pony because of the nightmares (pretty sure this is canon but I don't remember for sure).

-Tried to read Great Expectations for Ponyboy when he and Johnny were gone because he missed Pony.

-He, Ace, and Steve are the most chaotic trio when they're together. (sometimes he catches Melvin the soc staring at Ace and finds it hilarious) Inspired by Melody's tiktok of Melvin looking for Ace's digits

-He folds all the laundry when he sees Darry has had a hard day at work and even offers to cook.

-Was allowed to cook once nearly set the kitchen on fire and was never allowed to cook again.

-He really did try in school just couldn't do it no matter how hard he tried so when Steve told him there was the full time position open at the DX that was his reason/excuse to drop out.

-During the 2 weeks that Pony was disassociating Soda was terrified of losing both Pony and Darry (because of throwing in the towel) to the point that he wouldn't sleep some nights which is what also leads to him eventually snapping.

-Would sleep in Darry's room on the nights Darry would fall asleep by the telephone so he would feel at least one brother close by.

-Watched the cartoon's Darry mentioned in throwing in the towel to keep himself from worrying too much but it never worked.

Ponyboy:

-Kept both Dally and Johnny's jackets and wears them when he misses them but never actually lasts long with them on because he starts crying.

-Panics if multiple people accidentally touch him because he gets flashbacks to being grabbed and almost drowned.

-Which he now also has a fear of being in water too long.

-The first night after the church burning he asked both Darry and Soda if they can share the bed with him because he missed them.

-Sometimes dreams of the house with the garden he wanted with Johnny after his death and he wakes up screaming and sobbing because he knows now all it will ever be is a dream.

-Tries to quit smoking because he genuinely believes he caused the fire that killed Johnny and eventually Dally.

-Used to be ashamed of his name and would get bullied for it until Johnny would tell him how original it was.

-Still believes death's at his door but he tells both his brothers of it and how he's been feeling so it's getting further and he's slowly trying to get better.

Now for all 3 brothers (I only have 2 tbh):

-Their train related trauma isn't lessening especially after Dally.

-When nights get bad for them they have a sleepover in the living room and watch cartoons.

[tinytennisskirt]

just some husband art! deciding he wants you for dinner instead of whatever it is you’re making…

warnings: fingering, oral f!recieving, implied sex

MDNI 18+

“you’re so beautiful,” art mumbled against your neck. he was, of course, coming to distract you from cooking. his gorgeous wife, who he offered to make food for, denying him the ability for one thing after the other, apparently.

“so are you, but if i don’t watch this pot, it might boil over,” you told him. “i have to be very-“ he kissed gently up your neck toward your ear and you giggled just slightly. “careful. and mindful.”

“mhm?” he agreed, lips grazing over your ears, barely kissing but the sensation sent goosebumps through your entire body. “baby…”

“the pot will boil over and it’ll burn and there won’t be dinner.” you found yourself to be very reasonable, very good… it was a good reason.

“i’m not hungry for that anyways,” he replied. your entire body flushed. one year of marriage and the butterflies as he gently grabbed your hips was still there.

“You have something else in mind?” you teased, turning off the stove, moving the pot off the burner and turning around. his eyes were dark with lust but on his lips was his perfect, bright smile.

“i might,” He picked you up like it was nothing and you just giggled as you barely made it to the couch without kissing. you cupped his face and he set you down on the couch, crawling on top of you, already pulling your sweater over your head. he still kissed you the same way he did when he first kissed you. excited and youthful and it was easy to love him and his consistency. you were taking off each other’s clothes like horny teenagers, tossing the clothing around the living room and kissing like your parents would be home in five minutes.

familiar fingers moved the crotch of your underwear aside and slipped into you with ease. it was almost immediate that he found your sweet spot and played with a combination of rubbing and pushing his fingers in and out of you. you moaned his name into his own mouth, which made him grin. his thumb pressed your clit gently as his middle and ring finger fucked into you. you were so wet you could hear it.

he loved it, he couldn’t get enough. that pair of underwear was soon nowhere to be seen when he shimmied down on the couch, kissing gently down your stomach. “you’re going to spoil your dinner.” you said, resting your hand in his hair as he kissed your inner thighs, squeezing as he went along.

“mhm,” he nodded, nose grazing your skin. “fine with me.”

“art…”

“yes?”

“you nee…” you trailed off as he started strong, tongue inside you first thing. your words turned into a moan as your hand tightened around his hair. “fuck, art…” you breathed. “you can’t just-“ and he continued , licking upwards, tongue finding your clit. your body tensed under the immense pleasure. “baby…” but what use was there in stopping him? he had a goal.

his tongue flicked over your clit, then licked back down, the tip of his tongue dipping into you, his lips sucking and kissing gently when it could. he could go at this for hours if he wanted to, but he could feel your desperation as you rolled your hips up toward his mouth.

his perfect hands gripping the fat of your thighs, fingertips as deep as they could go against your skin without hurting you. his watch was cold against your skin, but his hands were warm. it was only a matter of time before one of his hands slipped down to meet his mouth where it was. his two fingers slowly pressed at your entrance and he licked into you once more before slipping his fingers back inside of you.

your back arched at the dual activities. your body tingled with pleasure, feeling it in every nerve ending. in all the years you’d been together he never failed to give you that rush of full body sensation. his fingers pumped in and out of you while his tongue danced over your sensitive clit. you moaned loudly, glad that you had a whole house to yourselves. you were so close and art knew so, picking up pace and intensity. his other hand squeezed your thigh harder, pulling you hard against his mouth and hand and you came loudly. your body heaved and tightened and your grip on his hair tightened as well.

art just happily lapped up everything you’d spilled when you came. he really truly was the best at what he did. it was worth spoiling dinner over. you breathed hard, but giggled through it. art wiped his mouth before kissing you hard and fucking you fast. no part of it being fast was unfulfilling.

by the end of it you were both breathing hard and in need of water. you laid your head on his chest, running your fingers over the little trail of hair down his chest and stomach down to his dick. gorgeous, perfect husband, all yours. you were reminded of how lucky you were.

“are you hungry?” he asked you, his hand gently caressing your hair. you smiled.

“takeout?”

“i was thinking thai.” he said. “i’ll call in a minute, for now let’s just…” he trailed off, hands playing with your hair as you laid together for another few minutes. the pot on the stove could just be prepared again tomorrow.

[gilverrwrites]

Call me Tim

Tim Drake/Reader, 2K

[Say his name, P2] AN: I did not expect part 1 to be se well recieved, here hoping part 2 was worth the wait! CWs: Breach of trust, teasing, semi-public foreplay, mildly stalker-ish behaviour on Tims part.

Tim had always told himself that fucking his fans was not a thing for him. Not a kink. Bernard was different, he just had so much passion. He would have been into him regardless of whatever he was fixated on.

Then you happened.

Ever since he’s been telling himself that it was coincidence, not causation. And again, he liked you before he found out you’d spent your formative years kissing cutouts of him. Well, he doesn’t know that part for sure, but he liked to imagine it. Point being; your adolescent crush on him was not the driving force behind his attraction to you.

But as he found himself plotting ways to naturally bump into you as Tim Drake-Wayne, it was becoming increasingly harder to deny that he maybe was, a little bit, kind of into it.

Hitting you up online? Too out of the blue.

Turning up at your house? Way too much.

Then one night the perfect opportunity arose. He’d overheard you making plans to meet some friends at an uptown bar later that week. He wasn’t scheduled to patrol that night. Despite the logical part of his brain telling him it was a creepy move, he just couldn’t pass up the chance. Red Robin had to be so cautious around you, but if you hit it off with Tim he could let a little loose around you.

That’s how he’s ended up sitting on the table adjacent to yours, listening in on your private conversation and praying you wouldn’t recognise him before he was ready.

“So have you guys ever had someone ask you to call them by a different name when you’re… you know?” He nearly coughs on his drink, sitting bolt upright as though it will help him hear better. He trusts you not to spill on who the guy is. You’d had that conversation already, but he wants to hear you say Tim again.

“What like ‘Daddy’? Yeah, my ex was into that.”

“No.” Your voice has grown so quiet, laced with a sheepish laugh just like the morning you’d confessed about your crush to him. God, he wishes he could turn around and look at your face. He’d bet you’re all flustered. “Like, another actual man’s name?”

“No, hon. That’s weird.”

“Who’s the guy? Whose name?”

“You don’t know him.” You shut down the first question. He bets your fidgeting, looking at anything other than your friends as you consider your next words cafeully. “But he wanted me to call him Tim. As in, Tim Drake.”

“That’s really weird. Did he know you used to be down bad for him?”

He knows it's mean to turn around now, and worse, risky. Liable to scare you away but it’s so worth it to see the five stages of grief cross your face in the span of 3 seconds when you notice him. You're like a starstruck deer in the headlights as the word “yeah” dies on your lips. If he cupped your cheeks right now, he's certain the heat would burn away any remnants of his fingerprints.

The whole table falls silent as one by one, your friend’s clue into the situation. If it weren’t for their sickly amused smiles, and the foley of the bar, you’d think the world has stopped turning. You wish the world would stop turning.

He’s staring at you with an almost impish smile and your fight, flight, or freeze kicks in. You opt for stuttering “I have to piss!” As you abruptly leave the table.

I have to piss. You just bumped into The Tim Drake, and the first things he heard from your mouth were that you’d called his name while hooking up with someone, and I have to piss.   

The queue to the solo bathroom in this place is always long, and usually you’d be annoyed but tonight you’re grateful for the extra time to compose yourself, or you would be if you apparently hadn’t been followed.

“So, is he your boyfriend?” Where the fuck had he come from? You hadn’t seen him approach at all.

“He’s…” Not, not your boyfriend. You see each other at least weekly, sometimes you cook for him, and he often brings you gifts. However, you’ve never had that conversation, you don’t even know who he is under the mask. You don’t have his phone number. Despite multiple sexual encounters, you hadn’t even seen him naked. Now that you think about it, there’s a definite power imbalance in whatever you have. “Why?”

You’re much more defensive of his teasing than you are with Red Robin. Understandable, you didn’t really know Tim, and he’s really hit you out of left field. This is all turning out a bit crueller than he’d intended, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Your apprehension tonight is as tempting as your timidness had been last time. It’s like he’s trying to seduce you on hard mode.

“Just tryin’ to find out if it would be appropriate to buy you a drink, maybe ask you to dance?” He sounds off. Not like he does in the TV interviews and podcasts you’d heard him on, but still familiar. It’s hard to focus on, however, because he’s standing so close. Close enough for you to smell the fresh sweetness of his aftershave, for you to see the features you’ve been fantasising about up close.

“This place doesn’t have a dance floor.”

“We could go to another place.”

“Oh no buddy, I’m not going to any secondary locations.” He can’t help the smile that crosses his lips. You remembered his safety tip. He just hopes it reads as anything other than prideful to you right now. “Don’t think for a second just cause you heard what you heard that I’m gonna fall all over you.”

“Buddy? You can call me Tim.” The obvious innuendo has you cracking a genuine smile. Your nerves are still apparent from the way you're tapping your fingers against your thigh, and your refusal to make meaningful eye contact with him but he’s chipping at your walls. There's four people waiting ahead, and he wonders if he can breach your shields completely before it's your turn. “Or if it makes you feel better you could call me whatever that other guy’s name is.”

“Is this how you get people to sleep with you? You tease them relentlessly until they give up just so you’ll go away when it’s over?”

“Ouch.” You have a point, he’s never behaved like this before. He’s always been a self-confessed smartass, but you just bring out something especially brazen within him. Something wicked. He’s being a jerk, but you’re chewing your lips and sneaking awed glances at him, which implies you’re more into it than you’d admit. “Am I not what you expected?”

He probably would live up to your expectations had this been your real first meeting. If he wasn’t already comfortable around you, he’d be enamoured by your appearance, too skittish to match your keen whit or ask about your hobbies, not when you look at him with those eyes. If anything, the typical Tim Drake persona might even bore you by rambling on about detective novels or WayneTech.

“You’re why people say you should never meet your heroes.”

“Okay, fine.” Maybe he had gotten a bit carried away messing with you. “Can I just ask you one more thing, and then I’ll go away, or buy you a drink? Whatever you want.”

Your eyes drift up to the ceiling as you consider his offer. It’s not an uncommon tick for people to have, but it’s certainly more endearing when you do it. Eventually, you nod, conceding to him and offering real, esrnest eye contact. You’re still willing to hear out your favourite celebrity, and a pang of guilt at once again abusing his authority thrums through his chest.

It doesn’t stop him from asking, however. “What clued this guy into your crush on me?”

“Pictures.” You frown, still not breaking eye contact. Something is different. The nervous energy you’ve been emanating since he’d followed you to the line has subsided, replaced by something tantalisingly self-assured.

“Pictures of what?”

He tries to pry but you give him nothing.

“Of you.”

“What kind of pictures.”

The answers here don’t matter to him anyway, he already knows. He’s just trying to segue into a specific set of questions.

“Just, pictures.”

“How ambiguous.” Here’s his chance to try and satisfy that burning fantasy. “Did you practice kissing on them?”

“What? No.” Your tense shoulders say otherwise. “Why would you even ask that?”

“I don’t know.” Perfect. He gives his best noncommittal shrug before leaning in closer, balancing his weight on the wall behind you until the distance between your bodies is closed. He can still pick up hints of your body wash, but it’s washed out but the smell of a parfum that he wishes he could spray on his pillows at night. “Thought I’d offer you the real thing to compare.”

Your response isn’t what he’s expected, but it is what he’s hoped. Your lips press softly against the corner of his lips, and he can’t stop from locking a hand on your hip, not to force anything further, but to stop you from backing away. Although, the wall he has you partly confined against has been doing a pretty good job thus far.

He needn’t bother, however, because it doesn’t take long for you to grow more confident. This is the moment he’s been waiting for.

His mouth parts at the first sign of your tongue and you eagerly explore his mouth. He tastes like IPA, hoppy and warm. Your hands boldly play across his chest, until you fist the fabric of his shirt and tug him closer, deepening the kiss until he moans into your open mouth.

Your sudden boldness is doing things for him. Head spinney, dick hard things. Thoughtlessly, he ruts his hips, rubbing his clothes cock against your lower abdomen until you pull away with a laugh. It’s his turn to be nervous. You’re looking at him with something fierce and canny.

“Excuse me.” A clearly unamused man interjects himself between your embrace to point at the bathroom. “Are you waiting?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tim is surprised by your chipper poise, as you smile politely at the man. He’s even more surprised when you hook your fingers into the give of his leather belt and proceed to drag him with you into the cubicle, locking him inside with you as you offer thanks to the stranger.

“What are you doing?”

“Comparing with the real thing.”  You grace him with another, hard kiss, backing him against the door. Your tongue is hot against his already heated skin as you hurriedly work it along his jaw and neck. He remembers how you’d looked when you’d first noticed him earlier and wonders if his burning face looks equally as nonplussed as he lets you have your way with him against the bathroom door.

He hisses when you plunge your fingers below his belt once more, this time unbuckling it. You’ve fucking cracked, he must have broken something in your brain. There’ll be exaggerated stories about this all over the Gotham Globe’s home page tomorrow. Hell, if he cares though.

“You’ve changed your tune.” He comments, bucking his hips, helping you free him from his boxers. Your fingers lock around his base, and it throbs at finally being touched by you. He’s wanted so badly to fuck you for months but as Red Robin, he’s had to be careful, had to put his guard up which had resulted in a very altruistic sex life. But Tim Drake could fuck you. Right here, right now, Tim Drake-Wayne would fuck whatever hole you’d give him and the thought of it has him losing composure fast.

Your lips lock in one last frenzied kiss before you drop to your knees, and you look like an Angel sent from hell, looking up at him from beneath his reddened cock, with heady eyes and salacious smile.

“So, Red.” Shit. His heart skips a beat. Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s not sure what gave him away, but he doesn’t have a chance to care before you spit on his dick and start to pump with a deliberate rhythmic pace that has his head rolling back against the door. He’s not sure if he wishes he’d never done this at all, or if he’d done it sooner. “What name should I use tonight?”

[pamperedollie]

previous | next

XOXO. જ⁀➴ ONE

. ۫ ꣑ৎ "you look great,"

summary. your mother’s high-society dinner party pulls you into the orbit of the vanderbilt siblings—a tense exchange with drew, an electrifying moment with harris, and a night that takes an unexpected, chaotic turn.

word count. 3.9k

warnings. underage drinking, cheating, language

You trudge into your bedroom, dragging your feet beneath you as your legs burn like fire. Your brain feels foggy, and all you want to do is close your eyes. You flop onto your bed and sigh. You don’t miss this feeling—you hate it, in fact. Today was your first day back at your internship after being on vacation, and you’re now weeks behind on your work. You stayed four hours late today just to catch up.

“Honey, could you help me in here?” your mom calls out from the living room, her voice in a sing-song tone. Could she have chosen a worse time? You feel your soft mattress sinking beneath you, but you force yourself up, trudging toward the door with the weight of the day dragging you down.

As you pass through the kitchen, the conflicting sweet aroma of rich vanilla and the smoky scent of the grill surprisingly pair together nicely, instilling you with a slight sense of calm. All you want is to sit still and enjoy it. But instead, you drag yourself into the living room.

“Why do you always insist on doing these things yourself? You’ll end up hurting yourself again,” you mutter, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You already begin to regret it as your mom turns to glare at you. She’s holding one of her signature curated art pieces—one she only brings out for these dinner parties. She says it “sparks conversation.”

“We’ve been through this! Your father helps cook dinner, and I fix up the house,” she adds, adjusting the frame. “I really don’t even do that much anyway…”

You can’t help but laugh, looking around the penthouse. You observe the meticulously arranged dinner table, the balcony doors slightly ajar letting in a breeze that feels almost intentional. Your father is directing a small army of dessert and dinner caterers around the kitchen, and floral arrangements adorn every corner of the home. You sigh. “Sure, Mom. Whatever you say!”

It may not sound like a typical dinner party, but your mom takes these events very seriously. These so-called dinner parties rarely have a guest list under one hundred people; they are extravagant affairs where the rich and elite fight tooth and nail for the juiciest gossip and the chance to one-up each other with tales of their latest business ventures and lavish vacations. You loathe every second of it and would just stay in your room the entire time if it weren’t for your parents.

But it isn’t all bad.

There’s one frequent guest you can tolerate—barely—Ryan Bennett. She was born into a family of doctors and therapists and raised only by her father. In a world of superficial people, she’s genuinely sweet—the most authentic person you know in a never-ending sea of snakes. She’s mature, which suits her since her father is a behavioral therapist, and she hopes to follow in his footsteps. Ryan is the kind of girl you wish you could be more like—a diamond in a sea of pearls. Although she does have her flaws...

Ryan is impossible to keep up with when it comes to relationships. Once one ends, it’s on to the next. Now, this would be fine if her taste wasn’t exclusively in older men—college students, CEOs; it didn’t matter. As soon as she turned eighteen, she tossed aside anyone her age. 

---

Time slips through your fingers as you sit at your vanity, staring at your reflection for hours, covering every blemish and pimple, applying just enough blush until it looks like you’ve just come back from a romantic walk in the snow. Your dress of choice is gold; it covers you down to your feet and hugs your figure like a glove. Its silk drapes elegantly at your chest. You carefully brush each section of your hair, rolling each strand into perfect curls. The tension in your shoulders aches, but what can you say? You love a flawless blowout.

KNOCK KNOCK

With rollers still clinging to your head and your setting powder baking under your eyes, you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Your parents aren’t knockers; they’re more of the “coming in!” types, barging in without a second thought. But it’s only six; the party hasn’t even started. Panic fills your entire body from head to toe.

“Who is it?” you ask, holding your breath.

“Me, dummy!” a familiar voice calls from the other side of the door. You release a deep sigh of relief and shuffle to the door.

Ryan steps inside, plopping down onto your bed like it’s her own. She looks you up and down. ��The invitation said formal wear clubbing,” she jokes, raising an eyebrow as she assesses your outfit.

You glance her up and down as she smooths the hem of her glittery black mini dress. Her stilettos click as she crosses her legs. “Okay…” you tease, eyeing her from head to toe.

“What?” she giggles, unbothered. “I heard the Vanderbilts are coming.”

You laugh, leaning back against your chair. “You going after the dad next?” you remark, knowing full well where this conversation is headed.

“Oh, not yet,” she yawns, stretching her limbs as if she’s just getting started. “I’m saving him until I’m twenty-five and he’s in the middle of a midlife crisis.” You can’t help but laugh at how nonchalantly she says it

“Then who?” you question, leaning back a little more.

“Harris, the oldest,” she replies without hesitation, a gleam in her eyes.

You gasp. Harris? The model child of the Vanderbilt family? Currently studying law at Yale? He’s back?

“Yes, he’s back, staying till winter’s over,” she adds, almost as if she could read your mind—and casually at that. You’re not surprised Ryan would know all this; she’s almost always the first to know when it comes to this stuff. Ryan’s a silent observer of the world around her, and it’s kind of charming how perceptive she is.

A short while later, you get up from your vanity and fall back onto the bed, the weight of it all sinking in. “I’m so tired of it all, Ryan,” you admit without thinking.

She shifts on the bed to face you, looking… concerned. “What’s up?” she asks.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should burden her with the mess that is your life and ruin the mood. But Ryan’s always been the one you could talk to about this stuff; she’s never not been there for you.

“You can tell me anything, Y/N,” she reassures you, smiling softly.

You can’t hold it in anymore. “Well, there’s the internship… I feel like I’m invisible. My boss doesn’t recognize me for anything.” You exhale sharply, looking up, trying to stop the tears from bubbling in your eyes. “Then school—God, I’ve been so worked up from the stress of my internship that I’ve forgotten what’s going on in any of my classes.” You can feel the frustration and exhaustion release from your body.

Ryan’s eyes soften. “Listen, Y/N, this is gonna sound so shitty, but hear me out,” her voice lowers, quieter now. “You’re too humble for your own good. You’re ashamed of your privilege, trying your hardest to get by without it, but—” she laughs, “You have the opportunity to forget about school and really take on fashion fully—but you’d rather try to juggle the two? Trust me when I say so many girls would kill to have something to fall back on if school doesn’t go well.” The weight of her words hits you hard.

You’ve spent so much time hating your wealth and power, wishing it away, but now, in the quiet of your room, you realize how fucking stupid that is.

“I hate how right you are sometimes,” you admit.

You and Ryan finish the final touches of your hair and makeup and head outside the room. The space is crowded, the sounds of expensive chatter and clinking glasses ringing in your ears. You take in the sea of faces you know all too well.

Businessmen who can’t separate work from play, the silver-spooned socialites, trophy wives, and burnout trust-fund kids—including… the worst of them all.

Alexa Esparza, heiress to her family’s billion-dollar hotel chain, and an absolute snake. Then Evan Ortigas, the burnout skater who thinks rolling out of bed qualifies as getting ready. His father owns a massive production company, so Evan never really had to try at life. Damson Sinclair, probably the most genuine out of all of them—he was just so annoyingly rich, his family founded the largest tech company in the world. Surprisingly, Damson never fell back on his wealth; he’s actually a straight-A student and an amazing coder. He’s just shitty by association. Then worst of all, Drew Vanderbilt. The Vanderbilts were all lawyers—like literally every Vanderbilt—hence why they’re such assholes. Drew is the walking embodiment of privilege and arrogance.

All they really did was gossip, party, and… nope, that’s it.

You’ve seen it all before—their reckless antics at almost every event. They’d get high and/or drunk and act like they own the world, making absolute fools of themselves. Once, you caught Evan HOOKING UP in YOUR ROOM. What really gets under your skin most of all is the fact that they thrive on the attention, live for it, really.

Gossip Girl eats this up—the blog that tracks every scandal and ridiculous moment of their lives. You’re proud to say you’ve never made an appearance on the blog, and you intend to keep it that way.

You shuffle around the room, exchanging shallow, substanceless small talk with the guests, swarmed with empty chatter. You can feel your exhaustion creeping back in. All you want is to get away, to breathe for just a moment.

You slip away to the balcony, but of course, Evan is there waiting for you—the burnout, stoner, and skater who thinks he’s God’s gift to everyone. “You look pretty,” his eyes scanning you like a piece of meat.

You sigh. “Save it for your girlfriend, Evan.” You brush him aside, but he doesn’t falter, grabbing your arm before you can get away. “Can’t I give a compliment?” he asks, flashing a predatory smile.

You snatch your arm back, repulsed. “Not when your girlfriend is in there sitting alone. You’re such an asshole.” His smug expression fades, and he backs off, returning to the party.

Just as you start to find solace in the bustling space, a voice breaks the silence. You turn to see Drew Vanderbilt, all 6’2” of him.

Great…

As he walks toward the edge of the balcony, you notice he’s on the phone. “Are you fucking serious? Dad’s waiting on you, and so is Lila. You can’t just put that on me!” His voice is sharp and strained, and he gives you a polite nod, barely acknowledging your existence before returning to his argument.

“Could you just leave your work behind for one night and be with your family?” His voice rises, making you feel like an intruder on something personal.

You stand frozen for a moment, hearing him argue into his phone, his brow furrowed and jaw tight. For the first time, you feel a flicker of empathy for Drew Vanderbilt—but then you immediately withdraw it. Taking a deep breath, you know it’s time to exit the situation.

You step back into the party, the heat of the room overwhelming from the sheer number of people. You grab a cold glass of champagne from a passing waiter, the bubbles tickling your throat as you slowly take a sip. Finding a quiet corner to sit alone, you let the chaos whirl around you. Your eyes begin to wander—Alexa and Damson trying to sneakily hit their vapes (it’s painfully obvious), Evan getting touchy with his girlfriend in the corner—a reminder to lock your bedroom door later.

Then your eyes land on her: Lila Vanderbilt, the youngest of the family. You’ve always thought she was sweet, and it’s hard not to feel sympathy seeing her sitting alone with her head down.

You decide to go over and keep her company. After all, you share a bit of history from being on the student council together. You’re sort of friends?

“Hey, how are you?” you place a hand gently on her shoulder, trying to grab her attention. She looks up, her face brightening when she recognizes you, a warm smile spreading across her face.

“I’m great!” she says, standing up. “How are you? Oh my gosh, we haven’t spoken in forever,” she asks, her voice filled with genuine kindness.

“I’m good, just waiting for this party to be over,” you reply sarcastically, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

Lila giggles. “Right? I had to come straight from practice. I got ready in the locker room. I’m so exhausted!”

You share a chuckle, bonding over the shared annoyance of these events. It’s nice having someone to talk to who gets it.

You chat for a while, catching up, talking about everything from school to how obvious Alexa and Damson are being. You almost forget where you are in the midst of the conversation.

But then, you hear a deep, husky voice that brings you back to reality. “You missed me?” There he is—Harris Vanderbilt. His voice carries such power that it instantly makes the air heavier. Lila’s face lights up as she turns to see her brother, practically jumping to hug him. “You came! Drew said you had to work!” Her excitement is clear. It’s sweet to see.

Harris chuckles. “Thank Drew. He practically called me every name under the sun to get me here.” There’s a slight annoyance in his tone.

So that’s who he was arguing with…

You let out a small chuckle to yourself, accidentally catching Harris’ attention. His gaze lands on you with a familiarity that sends a strange flutter through your chest. Taking a slow sip of champagne, his gaze doesn’t leave you for a second. His smirk grows slightly, as if he knows something you don’t.

You awkwardly laugh and smile, avoiding direct eye contact. Then he breaks the silence. “Y/N, how are you?” His deep voice is smooth as he extends his hand to you. You stare at it for a second—large, confident, powerful—and place your hand into his, feeling his warmth against yours.

“I’m great, how’s Yale?” you manage, trying your hardest to keep your composure.

“Stressful,” he replies with a slight humor, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “But it’s nice to see you.”

He begins to rub his hands together, as though he’s considering something. His eyes scan you up and down. The look is quick, but it sends a shiver down your spine. You try to ignore the dreadful nervousness creeping in.

“You look great, by the way,” Harris adds, licking his lips. His voice is low and steady, the compliment lingering in the air between you two, making you fumble over your words.

“Thank you,” you respond, nodding rapidly, the smile on your face a little too tightt.

You finally make your way to the bar, desperate for an escape from the intensity of the night. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you bury your face in the cold marble counter. The chill against your forehead is almost comforting, and you try to let go of all the frustration of the evening, wishing you could make sense of it all.

Slowly, you lift your head from the counter and glance back at the party behind you. People are starting to leave, and you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. This night is almost over, and soon, you can retreat to your room.

But just then, your peace is shattered once again by that all-too-familiar presence beside you. You glance to the side and see none other than Drew Vanderbilt—the last person you want to see right now.

Isn’t that enough Vanderbilt for one evening?

He rests his elbows on the bar. “Whiskey on the rocks, please,” Drew mutters to the bartender, looking utterly exhausted and worn out. Before he takes a sip, he lets out a heavy sigh, dropping his head down to face the counter, his posture slumped in a way that makes you wonder if the night has drained him as much as it has drained you.

After a moment, he glances over at you, his eyes narrowing slightly when he notices your worried expression. “Do you need something?” he asks, his voice dripping with his usual attitude.

You cringe. What an asshole.

“You looked like shit, but I forgot—that’s just you!” you shoot back, flashing a dry smile. Without giving him a chance to respond, you grab your champagne and make a beeline for the door, not bothering to look back.

You just need to get out of there.

Hoping for some solitude, you lean against your room door, putting all your weight on it. But as you open the door, you freeze. Your brain takes a second to process what it’s seeing—Ryan and Damson, completely enveloped in each other, kissing on YOUR bed.

You can’t believe it. “Not you, Ryan…” you mutter under your breath, disbelief clouding your thoughts. You step into the room and slam the door behind you. “OUT!” you snap, your voice sharp.

Ryan looks up at you, her eyes wide, clearly caught off guard. After a split second of hesitation, Damson bolts from the room, leaving you and Ryan alone.

Ryan tries to explain herself, her voice frantic. “Wait, don’t hate me, please! I promise there’s a valid reason—”

You pause. You can’t just kick her out without hearing her out. Crossing your arms, you let out a sigh. “Fine, talk,” you say, flopping down onto the edge of your bed.

She crosses her legs, holding a pillow for comfort. “Harris totally rejected me. Like, he wanted nothing to do with me,” she sighs, frustration lacing her words. “I was just upset and needed a rebound.”

You blink, stunned. Harris rejecting… Ryan? That’s hard to fathom. You haven’t heard of someone rejecting her in years; it’s a rare occurrence. Seeing her like this makes your heart ache, especially knowing you weren’t there for her.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur under your breath. But before you can continue, you can’t help but ask, unable to suppress your grin. “But Damson?”

You both burst into laughter at the sheer absurdity of the situation. For a moment, the chaos of the night fades, and you share a brief moment of calm together.

But, of course, nothing lasts.

BZZZ, BZZZ

You both pull out your phones at the same time. The sound of a notification echoes in the now silent room. You look at your phone—and for a second, your heart stops.

to be continued…

[bellarkeselection]

Can I request a John Dutton x Reader Fic?

John and Reader have been dating for a year or longer now and they’ve been keeping it a secret from his kids, they sneak around like teenagers running through the house after hours sort of dynamic and sneaking through the ranch after hours. I’m thinking maybe they stayed up late and took two of the hours on a little “trip” and get caught by Rip and Beth and Kayce who come looking for the horses ?

Noisy Kids Can’t Ruin This

When I first thought of agreeing to go on a date with John Dutton I certainly didn't imagine this. I didn't imagine that we would end up dating for close to two years. But the thing that really is throwing me off is the fact that we have been sneaking around for that long without his children knowing about us. Getting out of my truck I walked through the dirt gravel until I reached the white barn with the Yellowstone Y above the doorway. “John! Are you here?”

“In the back stall, darling.” He called out to me quietly but loud enough for me to be able to hear.

Entering the barn the lights were dim yet I could still see where he was. John was standing outside the last stall throwing a saddle over one of the two horses he had taken out of the wooden stables. “So why did you call me saying to meet here. I thought we were eating at home?”

“Oh we still are. Just a little differently than you thought.” He said, offering his hand to help me up onto my horse. I swung my left leg over the saddle and got as comfortable as I could on the horse. John climbed on his own horse looking at me before he ran out of the barn and I did my best to follow after him. “Follow me, Y/n.”

We rode past the fences and up through the mountains. The stars were above our heads since it was the middle of the night and everyone else was asleep. Normally we would spend the night with cooked dinner by the fireplace. Half the time we would sneak around so his kids didn't find out about us. John dismounted his horse holding his hat down on his head with his hand. He comes over helping me off my horse where I tilted my head seeing there was a small fire going, two chairs, and a tent pitched up. “John, what’s all this for?”

“Since we normally ate dinner at my house. I thought I should change the scenery for our date.” He explained to me slowly walking down to the fire with me at his side. He sat down removing his black hat from his head.

I sat down hugging my knees to my chest smiling at him. “Well I have absolutely no problem with this. It’s actually cute and reminds me of camping.”

“My family does call this the summer camp actually. I thought it was time you got to see it for the weekend.” He replied, turning his attention back to the burning fire in front of us.

John opened us each a beer and there was a comfortable silence that fell between us. It was rare that we got to spend time together given that his ranch was everything to him. Raising the bottle to my mouth I had almost drunk half the bottle before I felt John drape his arm over my shoulder. He turned his head slightly so we were looking the other in the eye. “I don’t think I could be happier anywhere else. You’re all I need Y/n.”

“I feel the same about you, John.” I smiled, leaning forward and kissing him slowly. He leans forward moving one hand to cradle my cheek deepening the kiss enjoying the other's company until we heard someone coming in our direction where we seperated from one another.

Three horses came to a halting stop and two flashlights were pointed at us. Blinking my eyes I could recognize Rip since I had seen him working late at night when I would sneak out of John’s house to go home. “There you are, sir.”

“Daddy, what the hell are you doing out here with a random girl. Are you trying to replace our mother?” The blonde female that I had to assume was Beth scolded.

Kayce dismounted his horse standing right beside it lowering his flashlight towards the ground. “Beth, don’t jump to the point of wanting to rip her head off.”

“What the hell are you all doing here?” John questions sitting his beer bottle down and I could hear the anger in her voice by the fact that they were here right now.

Rip nodded towards his boss. “I’m sorry for the interruption, sir. But I saw some missing horses when I went to close up the barn and then these two we’re getting worried when you didn’t answer your cell.”

Running a hand through my hair I sighed laying on my back on the blankets. I couldn’t believe that they were freaking out about us and even more so that we had now been found out. “I can’t believe this is happening…” Beth glared at me still sitting on her horse like she was about to hurt me.

“I am a grown man with what I thought were fully grown children. I can take care of myself so what made you think that you needed to start panicking about me?” John said back to them.

I glanced over to John out of the corner of my eye nervously rubbing the back of my neck. “I guess we should have expected this after we’ve been hiding this secret for so long.”

“You mean the secret that you have been sleeping with my father which is making me now want to kick your ass!” Beth dismounted her horse stomping up to my direction with her hands turned into fists.

I slowly got to my feet, not sure when she was going to start a fight with me. “Beth, look I am not sleeping with your father. Yes, we are dating. But I swear that is it, nothing else.”

“Now I’m the bitch about to attack you like a bear.” She growled at me.

Rip moved forward wrapping his arms around her and holding her back from attacking me. She grunted against him while Kayce shrugged his shoulders looking at me. “I’m sorry for my sister. She can be a little overprotective of anyone in our family.”

“Alright now that you see I am alive and not in danger can you all leave me alone until tomorrow evening. I have been planning this date for a few weeks now and I don’t want you ruining it please.” John got up to his feet standing in front of his children and led ranch hand.

Rip tipped his hat to him climbing back on his horse. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir. You have a good night, you two.”

“Be safe you two.” Kayce nodded his head kicking his horse and he rode away with Rip into the dark and I knew both of them were waiting for Beth before they would leave us alone.

Beth still glared at me waving her finger in a warning tone climbing back up onto her horse going to meet the boys down the hill. “If she hurts you I will make her pay in ways she’s never thought of in her life. Mark my words!”

“I’m sorry about all the drama tonight. I had no clue they would come looking for me. I hope I didn’t make the date go down too badly.” John came back and sat down resting his hands on his knees giving me a half smile where I could tell he was nervous now.

Snuggling up against his side I wrapped my arms around him whispering in his ear just focusing my attention on the beautiful stars above our heads since nothing else mattered, just the two of us. “They didn’t ruin it, John. Nobody could ruin this as long as you’re here with me cause I am falling in love with you.”

“I’m relieved, Y/n. Because I am falling in love with you too.” He smiled longingly down at me, cradling my face in his hand kissing me. He used his other hand placing his cowboy hat on my head and that was how we spent our evening together.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[ironstrange1991]

Safe Place

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Things don't always go the way we want. The reader learns this the hard way and Stephen is the only one that can make her feel better.

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: None.

A/N: Another self-indulgent fic inspired by another bad day. I'm just really happy to have something to post. I hope you guys like it and have a good read ;)

Tears had been streaming down your face and soaking your pillow for what seemed like hours since you had gotten home after a terrible day where everything had gone apocalyptically wrong. You were relieved to be home in the first place, but at the same time you were disappointed enough that you didn't feel right about being there.

You knew that you had placed too much expectation on that day and that it was your fault for expecting too much from luck when you knew very well that in your life luck had never been with you. You just wanted to disappear. You wanted a hole to open in the ground and swallow you, but all you could do was cry your eyes out and that was exactly what you did until you fell asleep and woke up to the touch of a trembling hand in your hair and the baritone voice calling your name.

"Sweetheart" You heard Stephen calling you. "I barely saw you today. I didn't know you were already here. Are you hiding from me?" He dismissed the question with a light and caring tone, but you knew he was worried. You didn't look at him as you answered.

"I want to die, Stephen." You said, giving in to the tears and hiding your face in the pillow.

"Oh sweetheart! Things didn't work out the way you expected, huh?" He asked and you felt the bed dipping.

"It's my fault. I should listen to MJ and stop putting so much hope into things that I know will never happen. I always get disappointed and never learn."

He let out a heavy sigh.

"Come here." He asked, touching your hair and you crawled so you could lay your head in his lap. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened?"

But you didn't want to talk about it. It was like by doing so you were accepting it was real, and you didn't want it to be real. So you just shook your head.

"Okay. How about I tell you about my day? Would you like that?"

You nodded.

"Well, Wong and I spent the morning training a group of masters who are going on a mission for the first time. They are good, they just need to gain practice, and the mission is not that difficult. I believe everything will be fine." He said as he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

"After that, I got a call from Stark asking me to come over there to help identify a magical artifact they found in the hands of Hydra. It was an ancient relic that disappeared from the London Sanctum hundreds of years ago. You can imagine Wong's happiness when I took it straight to the Kamar Taj."

You could feel the lump in your throat getting less tight as he spoke. Not only was his voice soothing and pleasant, but you enjoyed listening to him talk about his sorcerer stuff. It was another world entirely and at that moment all you needed was to distance yourself from your reality and to be immersed in his.

"Let me see what else..." He said and you waited. "Oh, I almost forgot! Stark is throwing a party at the end of the month and he insists that we both go. I could have said that I'll be on a mission, but I know you like spending time with your Avengers friends, so I confirmed our attendance. Did I do wrong?"

You shook your head and he chuckled softly. "I knew you'd want to go. Let me see... what else? I had cold pizza for breakfast and I ventured into the kitchen to make something for lunch because I was starving."

That caught your attention and you waited for him to tell you what he had cooked.

"Tuna spaghetti. It didn't turn out as good as yours. I think I overcooked it. It was sticky, but it was what I had and it satisfied my hunger. You know I'd rather eat your food anyway and at least I didn't burn the house down."

You smiled to yourself and turned around to look at him. Your eyes were still wet with tears, but you were calmer and the heaviness in your heart was replaced by warmth. "I love you." You whispered reaching out to touch his face. There was a frown on his forehead that slowly faded and he smiled back.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He replied as he continued to caress your hair. "Feeling a bit better now?"

You nodded. "It's amazing how you can do that."

He cocked his head to the side. "Do what?"

"Change my mood just by talking to me."

"And caressing your hair. That sure helps." He said with a cocky smile.

You smiled back at him. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Did you know that? You found me at my lowest and changed me forever. I know I'm not an easy person, that this anxiety and mood swings are constant and that I make you worried most of the time..."

"Sweetheart..."

"Let me say this. Please." You asked, bringing your fingers to his mouth to shut him up.

"I know I need you much more than you need me. I know I shouldn't say this, but I feel like I can't live without you. Or maybe I can, but I don't want to have to find out."

You sighed deeply, trying to contain the wave of emotion that was threatening to spill over your eyes. "Today was a horrible day. Everything went so wrong that it would be comical if it wasn't so fucking annoying and heartbreaking. But at the same time I know that no matter how bad things get, I will always have this home to come back to and when I say home I'm not talking about the house, I'm talking about you. You are my home and my comfort, Stephen. My safe place and I love you with all the strength of my being and if for all this love you give me I have to pay by cooking you a decent meal, I'm more than happy with the bargain."

"Can I talk now?" He grumbled and you took your hand away from his mouth. He was trying to keep the same confident face as before, but there was a whole world of emotions behind his blue eyes and you saw his throat bobbing a few times. "First of all, you'll never have to figure out whether or not you can live without me because, sweetheart, I'll never leave and I'll never let you go." He sighed, trying to compose himself, and then continued, "Secondly, I want you to know that you're not a burden to me and I don't think you need me any more than I need you. You say I saved you at your lowest, but you forget that you've saved me from myself so many times. I changed you? You've changed me too, love. You've made me a better man, you've taught me that love can be a good thing and that I don't need to be in control of everything all the time. You've made me let my guard down and allow myself to love and be loved. To care for you and having you care for me is the greatest achievement of my life. You're my home too, sweetheart. My love, my best friend, my everything. It's safe to say that neither of us are easy people." He finished with a smirk. "We just complement each other so well."

You nodded, feeling your eyes fill with tears again, but you smiled. "Thank you."

His smile widened, "You're welcome, sweetheart. Now get up and go take a shower and I'll order some food. I'm sure you'll feel better after that."

You sat up and stretched before standing up. "I'm already feeling better, actually." You answered honestly. "If you're not in a hurry, I can cook you something. You must be dying to eat some decent food."

He seemed a bit surprised by your offer, but smiled happily. "Really? And what will you do?"

"It'll depend on what's in the fridge."

He nodded, "Okay. I'm in."

"But there's something I want in return." You said, taking his hand and pulling him to stand up. You pulled him close to you, letting him tower over you, and rested your hand on his chest.

"And what is it?" He asked, already knowing the answer very well.

"You. I want you to come take a shower with me."

He hummed, lifting your chin to make you look directly at him.

"I thought you were sad," he teased.

"I am. And really mad, that's why I need some physical love. You know?"

He chuckled. "Alright, love. I think I can provide that for you."

You barely waited for him to answer and dragged him into the bathroom with you. Your mood swings sometimes confused even you, but if there was one thing that was certain about your depressive crises, it was that they always ended in sex. It was your body's way of balancing things out, exchanging cortisol for oxytocin, and you were fine with that. More than fine, in fact.

After the shower - and what ended up becoming a long lovemaking session - the two of you got dressed in comfortable pajamas and ended up in the kitchen. You wanted to prepare something decent and nutritious, after all Stephen was a tall and strong man and you knew that his body needed more than the empty calories of two slices of pizza and some tuna spaghetti, but when you looked in the fridge you realized what you had already feared. You were practically out of food.

"Oh Stephen, we forgot to go to the grocery store." You said dejectedly, but your eyes found a piece of bacon and some cheese and you sighed in defeat. It seemed that the nutritious food would have to wait for tomorrow.

"I can make mac & cheese. It has bacon, we can fry it really crispy and add it to the recipe. I know it wasn't what you expected..."

Stephen approached, hugging you from behind and taking advantage of the fact that your hair was tied up, he gave you a little kiss on the back of your neck. That never failed to give you goosebumps.

"Anything you prepare for me will be delicious, I'm sure. And I love mac & cheese. It's fine by me."

You turned to look at him "Are you sure? There's still time to order food if you want."

He shook his head "I'm sure. Unless you changed your mind. I know you've had a long day, sweetheart."

But before he finished speaking you were already grabbing the necessary ingredients from the fridge. "I did, but I'm feeling much better now. Your mac & cheese will be ready in fifteen minutes, and I promise it will be way better than your sticky tuna spaghetti."

He chuckled, letting go of your waist and stepping away, opening a cabinet door and grabbing one of your ceramic pots. "I'm going to put the water on to boil. I don't think you can go wrong with that." He informed and you let out a soft laugh.

"Don't forget the salt." You said as you grabbed a knife and began to chop the bacon into small cubes.

"Before or after it boils? I never remember."

"After." You replied, watching as he turned on the stove. It was quite a sight: Stephen Strange dressed in nothing but pajama pants, his hair wet from the shower, his back marked by your nails, his neck marked by love bites you had left on him, doing banal and domestic things in the kitchen. He may have been a sorcerer, a master of the mystical arts, and protector of the Sanctum, but what made you fall more and more in love with him each day were those little moments when he was completely ordinary.

You got distracted while finishing chopping the bacon and cheese and were surprised by his arms wrapping around your waist. He didn't say anything, he just hugged you from behind, gave you a kiss on the back of your neck and laid his head on your shoulder, and that act made you melt. You continued your task with a deliberate slowness so that you wouldn't have to move away from him, but eventually you finished chopping everything.

"Steph... I need..."

But he held you tighter in his arms, humming, "Just one more minute. I just want to stay like this for one more minute."

You chuckled, dropping the knife and reaching your hand up to his hair, stroking it slowly. "As if you didn't have me for an hour in that bathroom." You said, and he groaned as if the memory of what you did was too good to mention.

"It's not the same, sweetheart." He said, lifting his head to speak in your ear, "Sometimes I just want to be close to you like this. It's not sexual."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest and your knees went weak. "Does that mean the great Doctor Strange sometimes needs cuddles?"

He gave your ear a light nibble to tease you back, "Sometimes... yes."

You nodded, turning to look at him and cupping his face. "You deserve all the cuddles in the world, Steph. But right now you need to decide what you want more. Cuddles or mac & cheese?"

He sighed exaggeratedly. "Such a hard choice." He said, pretending to think, "But I think I'll have to choose mac & cheese." He responded with a smirk and let go of you. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his lips and then stepped away, returning to your mission.

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you were sitting at the table to eat. Stephen had chosen a bottle of red to open and you allowed yourself a glass that he generously poured before pouring his own and sitting down.

"It's always so rewarding to sit at the table to have dinner with you after a day of doing the things I do." He confessed, sipping from his glass and allowing himself a bite of the mac & cheese. "Oh this is delicious!"

You smiled as you watched him devour a second bite. This was your favorite part of cooking for him. It might have been a little weird, but you really loved watching him eat, especially when it was something you had cooked for him.

You allowed yourself a bite too and smiled contentedly. "Okay, this is really good."

"I told you!" He said, smiling, and you found yourself thinking that it was possible to endure the bad days and the terrible days, as long as you had Stephen by your side. After all, he was the only one who could make you feel good even when everything around you seemed to be falling apart. He saved you from the world and especially from yourself, and you could see yourself going on as long as he was there for you.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

What is the first Christmas outside of the factory like for the toys? Do they celebrate it?

Normalcy and other weird things you never heard about

Hiiii! Decided to write something short for this one. I'll be working on all the other Christmas stuff possibly tomorrow! Thanks for the ask, Anon!

As always: 2nd person POV because Angel refers to themself as "you" instead of "me". Also not as always, but this isn't proofread!

"This is weird".

Bunzo holds the comically large Santa Claus hat, wriggling it around. You carefully grab a few extra chocolate boxes to put on your already full cart. "Why?", you ask the bunny as he almost hits his head against another person's legs. "Eyes on front, not the floor!"

"Why would anyone believe a single guy can give presents to all the kids in the world?"

"Parents tell their kids that so they can have more fun during Christmas time", you respond, stopping the cart to now realize you forgot the milk. Again. "To have some magic, I guess".

"Kids are dumb", Bunzo then tries the hat on, ignoring the price tag clashing against his head.

"You are a kid".

You chuckle at his indignant expression before being surprised by a pair of comically long yellow arms. Ollie emerges from the other corridor, milk on hand and a tired expression on his face. "You forgot that again".

"Thanks, Owl".

The long legs then stares at Bunzo and rolls his eyes. "You look like a dumb kid".

"Hey!"

"Please don't fight at the grocery store again", you sigh. "Where's Dogday?"

"Here!"

The pup appears, wheelchair adorned with Christmas decoration and a red scarf wrapped around his neck. He's holding a few items on his lap, while Delight walks next to him with a very proud expression on her face and a cart full of things. "We completed our list!", she announces. "Did you finish yours, Angel?"

"Ollie just grabbed our last items".

Bunzo climbs your back. You dont even react. "But I helped!"

"Heck yeah, you did", a well-deserved head scratch for him. Bunzo stims in satisfaction, much to Ollie's disdain. "Alright, kiddos, guess this is everything on our part. Any news on Marie's group?"

"Last time I saw her, she and Poppy were debating on which pears were looking the best...", Dogday's voice tone is enough to tell you everything you needed to know: The perfectionists are doing their thing. "... They all looked the same to me..."

Still, you chuckle a bit. "Looks like they want everything to go well for our first Christmas together, eh?"

And indeed, they were.

-

Grabbing the girls away from their perfection crisis was sure a moment, but in the end, you are all able to leave the grocery store after challenging the final boss (read: The waiting line). The van becomes full of bags, and for a moment you're a bit scared y'all wouldn't fit, but years of playing Tetris have sure done a good job to you.

Together with the kids, you head back home. Miguel and Amy, wonderful babysitters as ever, are out in the backyard with the mini toys as Catnap looks over them. Your brother smiles when he sees you, and you feel very, very happy that he and Amy didn't have to deal with the kids trying to burn the house down again.

Bobby watches from her chair as you, Marie, Delight and Kissy put the groceries away. "Is that... All for Christmas?", she asks, confused.

"Heck yeah", you nod. "Christmas is for eating a ton of stuff, Bobs. Gotta go all out now that we have 87 of you!"

"But...", she bites her bead necklace. "... All of that for one day?"

"To be fair, we normally can't eat it all in one day. We cook a ton and it can last for a few days! And then after that, it's New Year's eve, and off we go to eat a ton of stuff again".

"Woah...", her eyes are shining. "A-and the cookies?"

"You're going to be the one helping me bake them".

"Yaay!"

-

You stare at the pile of gifts you got the kids. It's... A lot, and you're not even counting the stuff people donated to them. You're lucky Miguel and your parents accepted giving up their garages to fit it all in. A surprise is still a surprise, even if the kids don't believe in Santa.

Your mom is excitedly chatting with Dogday, teaching him how to crochet a scarf. Crafty listens closely, excited. When the three of you eventually have to leave that house, the kids completely oblivious to the gift plan. "Y... Y-your mom is really nice, Angel", the unicorn mutters, staring at the ground. "Really nice..."

"Don't be weirded out, Crafty. She loves all of you, like a grandma would".

"But she's not our grandma..."

"Well, f'course not, she's my mom and YOUR grandma".

"That's not what I meant...", but she's smiling, so the joke worked. "Uh...?"

"Excuse me!"

The three of you stop when a man pops up. He's probably in his mid 30s, if not maybe late 30s. You cross your arms, noticing a notebook he's carrying around. "Yes?"

"Are you the Angel from the PlayCo. Case?"

You eye the kids, annoyed, and they eye you back, also annoyed. "Yes".

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear! You see, I'm a-"

"Reporter?"

"Oh?", he seems surprised. "Yes, yes! I have been meaning to talk to you, miss, about what you plan to do with them for this holiday season. You see..."

"Nah", you walk past him. "Not interested in exposing them more during their first normal Christmas of their lives. Goodbye".

-

Christmas eve is chaotic.

Huggy wakes you up at 5 in the morning, too agitated to go back to bed. You end up being used as a plushie by him as the others sleep, the house being too crammed with living toys for you to have the luxury of proceeding with your day. When most of them awaken, you tell them about the plan.

You have to use the van a few times, but by the end of things, you're able to bring all the kids to your parents' house. After some time, they all organize in small teams in order to "help" with the very important jobs they were given. Huggy, Kissy, PJ, Boxy and Bunzo, being the youngest of them, are tasked with taking care of the snow (read: playing outside), while most of the minis don't need to be coerced into having fun.

Poppy and you get stuck in the kitchen. Your father is helping Marie with making some of the many dishes, and Bobby, Crafty and many minis are having the time of their lives with baking cookies. Catnap sits outside, "guarding" you all. Dogday goes to check on him from time to time as he tries helping you with making some good Christmas soup.

Piggy ends up helping Marie the moment she comes back from sulking outside. She's shy, but Marie's grumpiness with only having one harm is enough for her to try to help. Not that she can do much without her hands, but Delight makes a "hook" with some textiles laying around so Piggy can at least hold a spoon by herself. The three girls and your dad talk nonstop, and you and Poppy try your best to not laugh at them.

Bubba seems grumpy for not being able to do much. Despite how well the toys heal from their wounds, Bubba is a special case. A very special one. So he watches, and ask questions, while Dogday runs from place to place trying to organize the house and the extra decorations the kids insisted on buying.

Hoppy and Kickin are having their third argument of the day as they try to make pastéis. Never have you ever ate a pastel for Christmas, but the kids loved them and you didn't want to force them to follow any traditions. Ollie is merely going from place to place, helping everyone a little bit and pretending he isn't excited about it all. Eventually, your aunts and uncles pop up, and the chaos bubble pops.

They overflow you with questions, of course, but they also dote on the kids a lot, so you accept answering some things. Nando pops up right behind you, and you jump before rolling your eyes. "Fuck off, you idiot, I'm cooking", you growl.

"Parent of 87 kids and still using the same foul language", your cousin rolls his eyes at you. "Nice to see you too, dipshit".

Poppy, who's busy cutting things for you, seems curious. "Hello, sir!", she nods at him. "I'm Poppy. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Thought you were bigger", he jokes, and you hit him with your elbow. "Hi, Poppy. Name's Nando. I'm your dad's cousin, nice to meet you. Good to know at least someone has manners..."

"Cut it off, Nando", Miguel FINALLY pops up, snow on his hair. "Leave them alone".

"Them who?"

"My kids", you reply, smiling. "You're bothering them".

"I'm not doing anything to them!"

Another elbow hit. Poppy chuckles, understanding the situation.

-

More and more questions arise for the kids. You avoid some, the kids avoid others, and some of them have answers. The 87 toys become the theme for the Christmas eve, and when night arrives, you help everyone dress up for the occasion, sweaters and silly hats for all of them, no exceptions.

Miguel's oldest kid helps you so, so much through all of this. She's pampering her new friends, of course, while her baby sister is catching everyone's attention, including Catnap, who cannot stop staring at her. She tries grabbing his ears, and, strangely, he allows it.

Your mom takes pictures of everyone. Literally everyone, no exceptions, including one of the whole family, which had to be taken outside. When you all finally sit down to eat, many of the toys try to show off how they can finally sort of use forks and knives now. Kickin and Hoppy annoy each other to the point you have to tell them to cut it off, and Amy giggles, saying they remind her of Miguel and you.

"Really?", Kickin asks, smiling. "Didn't know that guy over there was like that".

"I'm not", you reply.

"You are", your parents, Miguel AND Amy cut you off. You shake your head. Humiliated by your own family, it seems.

Gift giving is equally chaotic. First, the human part of the fam opens their gifts. Then you open the garage's doors, and the kids all seem so, so surprised. It's... Cute, almost, to see the way they all react, and how much they help each other grab and open their gift wrappings. Dogday, especially.

Of course, not all the presents are opened here. Instead, during the following day, you put everything back at your own house before going back to your parents' to grab the kiddos.

They're happy. Surprised, yes, but extremely happy, and this is what matters most to you.

... Despite all the plushies they obtained, however, they still insist on using you as one when they have to go to sleep again.

[crsssie]

its the most wonderful time of the year

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

Summary: deck the home with warmth and laughter, falalalalalalalala

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A little. Just winter chills."

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

"Wait, wait, Leon the chair."

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

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

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

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

"Leon, I'll be fine. I just need—"

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

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

"Almost did."

"What."

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

"And if I get you sick?"

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

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

"You want me to get you some ginger?"

You grimace. "...sure."

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

"Which ones are you feeling?"

"Shouldn't you shower first?"

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

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

"A boring white christmas?"

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

"Thoughts on gold?"

"Yes."

"Thoughts on green."

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

"Sounds good. No silver?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Look good?"

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

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

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

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

"Alright."

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

"Food on the couch?"

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

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

"It's an honor, honey."

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

"Fair." You hum. 

"Did you open today's advent calendar?"

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

"Day... twenty five?"

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

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

"Guess again."

"Plane tickets."

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

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

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

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

"It's a box, sweetheart."

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

Leon nods. "Saw you looking at them."

"Did you stalk down my amazon wishlist?"

He averts his eyes, and you laugh. 

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

"Is it a new watch?"

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

"You got me something to crash again?"

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

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

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

"My bike?"

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

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

"You like it?"

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

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

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

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

"I love it, sweetheart. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Leon."

@leonsecretsanta 2024 ❤️