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deceitfuldevout · 9 months

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Highest Bidder

Dark!Robert Fishcher x Sugarbaby!Reader

Word Count: +3,066

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Loss of virginity, Human auction, Housewife kink, Breeding kink, Misogynistic remarks, Insults, Just plain abuse, Robert is a warning himself.

Author's Note(s): I have been thinking about this for a hot minute. Inspired by @mypoisonedvine Robert Fischer fic go check it out!!

You couldn't stop checking your phone for an update. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Did he bail? Part of you had hoped so. It would make things a lot easier. Years ago, if someone had told you that you'd be auctioning off your virginity, well, the first thing you'd do is laugh in their face.

That was before everything went to shit. Your parents ended up in neck-deep debt trying to pay off your college, borrowing money from some sleazy loaner company. Soon having no choice but to debate on filing for bankruptcy. Everything they've worked hard for, gone. You didn't want them to worry about that anymore.

This wasn't a huge deal for you. Personally, you've never had any luck with guys and would rather get this over with. Growing up you were always the awkward, ugly duckling of the friend group, so a boyfriend was out of the picture. Only sharing an innocent kiss with a childhood friend, but that was a long time ago. It was only after you reached your 20's where you began to bloom.

He'd bought your outfit and covered the cost of everything. He wants you ready and waiting for him, all wrapped up like a pretty present. He's very particular about these things, even making a list of errands to run before the big day. He requested for photos of the hair and makeup you'd be wearing for the evening. Scolding you every time you did something he disliked. He wouldn't even try hiding it. You reread his previous text message: Change the makeup. It makes you look like a cheap whore. You scoff at the response...how rude.

Even before all of this he would try to test your patience. Sending messages like, 'Do you know who I am? You should be more grateful that I'm giving you this much attention," or "Anyone would be lucky to be in your position,' which made you physically roll your eyes. This morning, he had given you a call as a reminder of where you would meet. He send you the hotel address with money for a cab.

He made sure to give you call in the afternoon as a reminder of what to do after arriving, ending it with, "I don't want to hear any complaining when I get there." before hanging up. You grumble a stray of curse words, this had better been worth it...

You couldn't believe your eyes on how luxurious the hotel was. It's entrance had been decorated with marble and brass statues. There wasn't a drop of it that didn't scream 'money'. You sheepishly sign in, allowing a worker to carry your bag to the room. It had taken a while before you could reach the top. Part of you was impressed, he had really gone all out.

As soon as you enter the room there was this sort of romantic ambiance to it. From the lighting, to the breathtaking scenery of the city. It was all so...dreamy. But this was no dream. You were going to have sex for the first time with some old, rich geezer, gross. You take note of a shopping bag left on the bed, opening it to find a lingerie set.

You held the fabric, inspecting the material. White lace, with hints of glitter that shine in the light. At least the old man has good taste. You take a look at yourself in the mirror, humming at the sight of it. Not bad...hell, you looked fantastic.

Suddenly the door knob jingles, then a heavy knock follows. You leapt from the bed, approaching to open the door for him. But before you could reach the knob it slams open. A man enters, sporting a well-tailored suit, dressed to the nines from head-to-toe. His hair is combed back, a few strands dangle against his forehead. As you scan the man's face, you couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.

There's a light rosy hue to his cheeks. You first notice the striking blues of his eyes and how long his lashes are. He looks like he'd have no problem at all searching for someone. So what is he doing paying for someone like you? For a moment, you were in awe of his presence. Staring back at the man like a deer caught in headlights.

The meeting today had taken its toll on Robert. He was supposed to meet with you hours ago, but there had been an emergency with the company's shareholders. He could practically feel his blood boiling, to the point where it felt almost difficult to breathe. He tugs his tie off and yanks for his shirt to open, a few buttons go flying. He lets out a huff, scanning the room with his blue orbs for something, more specifically, someone.

"So you're the one I've been talking to eh?" a hint of humor in his voice, "Let me guess, you're a good girl caught up in the wrong crowd? Is that it?" he taunts, "I'm sure you've 'never' done this before," the corners of his mouth turn upward into a sinister grin. His eyes are emotionless. Cold as ice. Yet why did they seem so comforting? As if you've seen them before.

He drops his suitcase at the end of the bed, turning towards you. He eyes you up and down, as if he were deep in thought, "Give me a spin," and of course you follow his orders. He raises a brow, "Come here," he commands. You stare back at him, unsure of what he'd just said. Robert sighs, he doesn't have time for this. He's slightly drunk and exhausted from work. Right now he just wants some hard, animalistic fucking.

He tugs your underwear to the side, examining his prize. He bunches up the waistband of your panties before yanking the fabric down. You held your breath, now riddled with anxiety. This was a bit too...casual for comfort. He fists the fabric, holding it to the side while the other hand held your hip.

His voice is deep, much deeper in person, "Hold it for me," he wants to get a good look at his purchase. His thick fingers slide down your pubic area, grazing against the bare skin, he hums, "Even waxed yourself like I told you to, good girl." he slaps the side of your hip, as if he were examining livestock. Your stomach coils at the realization. Never in your life have you felt so...objectified. Still, now wasn't the time to back down. He pushes you against a desk. Until you were now leaning on the table.

He spreads your folds with his thick digits, examining them closely. He held your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly. You let out a whine from the sensation, bucking your hips from the sudden discomfort. He retreats his hand before flipping you over. His chest now against your back. He pushes you against the table, bending you over for a better view. He was in no rush.

He rubs his fingers over your bare slit. His thumb caresses your bundle of nerves. As soon as he retreats you finally snap the fabric back in place. Now lowering your head with embarrassment. He grips your chin, lifting it until you're face-to-face, "No don't hide from me now..." he plops himself on a chair, tilting his chin up, "Why don't you make yourself useful and help me get this off?"

If you weren't getting paid you would've scoffed at his rudeness. It was obvious he was into power play. Being in total control of everything. Now wasn't the time for letting your emotions emotions get involved. You help him remove his coat and tie, even unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He's still wearing his pants, now unclasped. He stares you down, a smirk now lingering on his cold features, "Take off your clothes,"

When you start to quickly unclasp the garter belt, Robert's voice booms, "Stop." he orders, "Do it slower," he leans back in the recliner, already palming his erection. You shyly unclasp your belt, letting the straps fall off each shoulder. His hand grazes on an exposed breast, sending shivers down your spine.

He chuckles, "Oh...don't tell me you're that sensitive?" a crude remark. Your brows furrow, why did he have to tease you so? He notices your obvious discomfort, "Don't worry darling, your only job is to fuck," as if that would make things better, "Do you know how to suck cock?" he questions. You give him a hesitant nod, "No...I've never done it before this is my first time--"

"I didn't ask for a whole life story,"

"...No," your lips press in a thin line. He was really pushing it, "So you've never had sex or sucked cock before, tell me, what have you done?" he pulls out his member, already hard and leaking. It's tip was flush pink, the same as his lips. He spits into his palm before working himself up, he knows you're nervous. He wants you to be intimidated by him. He pumps his shafts with slow strokes, "Tell me, what gets you off..." he sighs.

You look down to your feet, suddenly his voice booms, "No, do not look away," to which you began to tear up. His voice is soft now, "Sweetheart, look at me," he huffs. You look up at him now with tearful eyes, he groans, "Oh...that's it..." stroking his cock faster. A finger points directly at you in a 'come hither' motion. You walk towards him, still eyeing his shaft. How was that going to fit?

You felt warm despite the lack of clothing, there's a pooling sensation between your legs. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. His tongue darts against a breast. He teases the bud with his teeth. He made sure it was swollen and sensitive before giving attention to the other breast.

You never knew it could feel this...good. As soon as your hands reach for his hair he instantly stops, Robert remembers the reason why you're here. It wasn't to see him. You only wanted one thing, and he doesn't have time to play pretend. He just came here to collect what he's owed. At the end of the day, you were just a hired whore. He swats both hands away, giving you the cold shoulder. He lifts himself from the seat, throwing you against the carpet. You're confused at the sudden mood swing. It frightens you. Where the hell did that come from?

"It's a shame, you were doing so well," Robert sits up, his leaking cock now presses against his abdomen. He's pissed. He paid you for your time, you were suppose to focus only on his needs. Every word that came from his mouth dripped with anger, "It seems like you need a reminder on whore etiquette," he knows you've probably fucked a few before him, this was all part of your little roleplay act.

"I'm not a whore!" you detest lying, what made him not believe you? Forget it...this wasn't worth an argument, "You know what? You can take your money back asshole! Fuck this and fuck you--" a hand grips around your neck. He'll have to show you a thing or two of what comes with selling yourself out, especially to a complete stranger. You've always knew deep down that you'd regret your first, but this was downright terrifying.

This man, he didn't even see you as a person. As a human being. To him, this was all a transaction that was paid for, "What did you think that website was for? It's a human auction. Not just your cunt. Meaning I own your ass for the next few hours," he leans in, pressing his nose against yours, he growls, "Remember your place..."

Robert pulls you up by the hair, throwing you onto the bed. You scramble to get away but he's much stronger. He began to wrestle you. To which you land a slap on his cheek, hard enough to leave a mark. You pause, now too scared to move. He touches the tender skin, it would surely leave a bruise tomorrow. Which just so happens to be an important meeting, "You little bitch..." he grips your jaw until it aches, forcing your mouth to open.

He takes the opportunity to spit inside, covering your mouth and pinching your nose. You felt like you wanted to gag. Finally, after fighting to hold your breath, you swallow. He grins, "See? even if you try to fight me, I always get what I want..."

You, of all people, should know this about him. Instead you try putting up a fight, "I hate you! I hate you! Let me go!" thrashing around. Both of his hands now pressed against your throat. He scolds, "If you want it to hurt I'll make it hurt like nothing else..." he flips you over, pressing his body against your own, making it harder to breathe.

He lets his pants slide down. Tugging off his boxers. He spits a wad into his hand, that should be enough to get comfortable, for him. But for you? Well, he wants it to hurt you. Otherwise, how will you learn? Whores like you deserve to feel pain. That's what you get for teasing him in your photos. He growls into your ear, "Time to try my pussy..."

He yanks down your panties before pressing his leaking tip against your opening. He muffles your cries in his palm. You couldn't hold back the tears. This man is going to break you! As retaliation you tilt your head to the side and bit into his forearm. He grunts from the pain, it only encourages him to carry out your punishment. He thrusts harder, grinding down his hips to reach as deep as he could go.

You sob from the pain, going limp from shock. All you could do was cry into his hand, bracing yourself against the cushioning below. You turned your head to face the mirror, taking a good look at your own sad, pathetic reflection. You were being dominated by a complete stranger. How did it get to this point? When did you become so pathetic? So desperate to the point where you became a whore for hire?

He held you close to his chest. He knows now you're too tired to fight him off. He kept jutting his hips back and fourth, moaning in your ear with a deep grumble. You could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. It repulses you. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were of skin-to-skin slapping, Robert's insults, and your muffled cries.

"Fuck....fuck m'gonna cum..." he grunts. He rubs his nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scented perfume. He drags his face across the soft, supple skin. He can tell by the shimmer that you applied an expensive lotion earlier. Of course you wanted him, what woman wouldn't? He's handsome, rich, successful, he's the entire package.

So why were you begging for him not to finish inside? You were just being stubborn, that's all. He'll have to remind you of who's in charge, "I bought this pussy fair and square. If I want to put a baby in it, then bitch, I will," he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting until the skin breaks. He doesn't stop thrusting his hips. Plunging his cock deep inside to coat your womb. He moans, furrowing his brows from the feeling of your velvety walls.

"You think you're better than me huh? Old enough to fuck but not old enough to get knocked up, yeah fucking right" he huffs, "You just wanted an excuse to be whore..." His voice becomes hoarse, as the pleasure began to increase, "Fuck...fuck I'll buy you a big house just so I can fuck you in it...hm...yeah you'd like that wouldn't you?" he doesn't stop his vigorous thrusts, "I’ll fuck some babies into you hm? You'd like that? I’ll give you a baby with blue eyes…something to remind you of me…" he flips you over, locking an arm around your neck.

All you could do was whine as you wait for the inevitable. Robert licks a stripe against your ear. He grunts with satisfaction, "Want you to remember this for the rest of your life....every time you think about your first time, you'll be thinking of me...." he fastens his pace. All you could do was stare back at your reflection. A tear trickles down your cheek. You couldn't help but agree. It was true, this moment would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Robert knows it. That's what gives him such an ego boost. He felt like he was on top of the fucking world. He growls in your ear, "Remember this, I.Fucking.Own.You." before unloading his spunk deep inside. He muffles a moan in the crook of your neck, bowing his head down to feel the bliss of it all. Fuck, he never came so much in his life. Was it the adrenaline or the pussy? He doesn't care. All he knows is that it's money well spent.

He slowly begins to pull out, hissing from the pleasure your pussy gave. He moans at the sight of his shaft dipped in a crimson tint, "Fuck me...if that isn't a sight for sore eyes..." he's made sure to mark his territory. He flips you over, you're too scared to even look at him.

He slides his hand from your stomach to your pelvis, "Hold on...I want to see it.." giving your lower abdomen a light push, forcing the rest of his seed out. It's mixed with a string of red. His lids are hooded, there's a twitch to his features. He grins, "Fuck...guess you weren't lying about me being your first..." he chuckles, "And here I thought you were just another lying whore..." playing with your emotions.

Robert lifts himself from the bed. He retrieves his belt on the floor, tying your wrists to the bed post. He doesn't want to risk you running away from him. Not while he still had a few hours left. He fixes himself in the mirror, coming his hair back to how it was before. Making sure that there wasn't a single strand out of place. He admires himself in the mirror. He felt like a fucking champ. Like nothing in the world could stop him, and so far there hasn't been.

Robert knew this was a good idea the moment he saw your profile online. He'd been tracking you down for quite some time, it's been a while. His obsession growing with each message sent. He had to own you. Mind, body, and soul. It was a good idea to install the hidden camera in the hotel. He could only stare at you from his office, viewing you changing into the set he'd purchased, admiring yourself in the mirror. He had to wait another agonizing hour before work was finished.

He notices the way you'd tried being presentable, all for him. How you would constantly check your phone just to see what his orders were. Submissive, compliant, needy. So fucking needy. That little pussy of yours needed his cock to break it in. He doesn't want it to end, he tosses a few bills onto the mattress, you don't even flinch. Your mind had already escaped.

Robert leans in, caging your body with his arms, "Why don't I keep you as my little plaything, hm?" he knows you've recently graduated. But what use was a degree compared to what he could give? What greater reward than being his pretty little housewife? You might as well put those looks to use. He plants a kiss against your lips, humming in satisfaction, "Need a good girl to balance me out..." he begins to rant, "And if you ever think of leaving me, I'll send a video of us fucking to your parents,"

But the thing is, you never told him who your parents were. It was then when the pieces began to fall into place. How could you be so stupid? His username was R-Morrow.

This was no other than the owner of Fischer Morrow, the man responsible for your landing parents in deep debt. Of course they trusted him, because he's your childhood friend. You lift yourself up and face him. Your voice in disbelief when you question the identity of the strange man, now with a tearful look, "R-Robbie?" you whisper. He pauses for a moment, head turning to the side as he looks your way, "Did you miss me?"

"...Why? I-I don't understand..." you began hyperventilating. This wasn't happening. Your childhood friend had taken your virginity. At one point, he was your entire world. He approaches you, no longer a lanky young boy but a man. He cups your face, pressing his forehead against yours. He sighs, "Don't you remember the promise we made? To find each other?" his eyes bore into yours, "I could only dream of it, but now?" he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him, "Now you're finally mine..."

#dark!robert fischer #dark!robert fischer x reader #reader #reader insert #fem!reader #afab!reader #fab!reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfic #dark!fanfiction #dark!smut #dark fic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy smut

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copperbadge · 22 days

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Sam, I must know what sort of things Gerald blogs about on his Tumblr. How old or active is his account? Is his identity a secret?

It's actually a reference to an older post where @dignitywhatdignity pointed out there was no way Ger wasn't on Tumblr. :D Reproduced my response below -- first, Photogram:

I can picture Jerry’s Photogram in my head very clearly because I’ve had to research the children of rich people and their fucking obnoxious instas, and Jerry’s is probably equal parts expensive cars, club glam, and scenic vistas, but mainly because that’s like…what you do. It’s just kind of the done thing, like wearing a shirt when you leave the house.

Update: Gerald's photogram has shifted radically -- he still treats it as a Thing You Do but especially now that he's a dad it's a lot more Parenting Lifestyle stuff. Because a few of my friends have had babies in the last two years and I had to research the babies my fictional characters were having, the algo now thinks I have baby fever, so I get a lot of Parent Influencer content, and I bet Gerald does a lot of sly fun-poking at that stuff. Like, posting a photo of a bottle warmer and a bib-washing tabletop machine with commentary like "You cannot buy any of this in the shop I don't have, but if you're going to buy one stupid thing as a parent, buy the bib washer. Not a single shirt you own will be unstained but the bibs will be immaculate."

They don't post pictures of Serafina, though -- there are a couple of official portraits for PR reasons but day-to-day that shit is locked to friends and family only. (There are special websites for this, I have friends who use them, it's pretty neat.) The only time random candids of her are out there are usually when someone snaps Michaelis toting her around Fons-Askaz with her cousins -- the "King Emeritus and Royal Ducklings" are becoming a very familiar sight. At least once a week Michaelis takes Noah and Joan out for an afternoon in town with Sera in a snugli and the twins in a stroller. Don't ask him about his stepson and grandkids unless you really want to hear about them.

Meanwhile he also definitely has a secret super-weird tumblr and nobody can figure out if he’s roleplaying or shitposting or what when he posts stuff like “The family groupchat is all well and good until it starts heavily impacting local politics.” Are those horses really his or is he just visiting a barn? Is that…a photo of a plate full of appetizers at “My cousin’s latest house party” with Angela Merkel in the background? He certainly has some strong feelings about Princess Diana and equally strong feelings about Tsar Nicholas. Why is he one of only three people the official Eddie Rambler tumblr follows?

Gerald's tumblr has also slowed down since the diagnosis and becoming a dad, but the content is still random as hell and more authentically wild than his photogram. Again, no photos of Serafina, but it's very evident that whoever is running that particular tumblr has had a kid, or is pretending they have. He gets asks accusing him of faking shit for clout and every time he does, his response is simply to write the ask on a sheet of paper in longhand and photograph it in front of a famous European landmark and/or political figure.

Alanna tolerates this because it does keep him out of mischief and sometimes he takes Serafina with him to whatever landmark he's visiting, and she gets to have a quiet apartment to herself for a while.

(”Eddie Rambler’s on tumblr?” someone asks, and someone else replies “Name me one other TV chef brave AND stupid enough to be on tumblr” and then you realize it is in fact the official Eddie Rambler tumblr saying that.)

Eddie doesn't post to his official Tumblr anymore because he rarely has time and doesn't need to do the self-promotion, but Katie in Communications checks his inbox once a week and brings him the most entertaining asks to respond to. He's currently hovering somewhere around the level of Neil Gaiman in terms of "Famous people who are inexplicably on Tumblr."

Ultimately there develops a running joke that Jerry’s tumblr is run by either a) an upper-class vampire (rude) or b) the elected king of a micronation on the Mediterranean coast with a name nobody can spell (super rude!)

One time Gerald accidentally pocket-posted a blurry selfie to his Tumblr but it was so poorly focused and clearly accidental that a bunch of people got mad at him for violating the privacy of the Duke of Shivadlakia. He had to pretend to have a week-long beef with himself to save face. He eventually got Noah to take a selfie with him, blanked out Noah's face, and then claimed the Duke had forgiven him and here was a selfie with him as proof.

It's a hard old life, being Duke of Shivadlakia, but someone's got to do it.

#shivadhverse

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starsandhughes · 8 months

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Penalty Box Series— Trevor Zegras Edition (One)

23-24 Season Masterlist

next: two

quinn's game

OCTOBER 14, 2023

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, _quinnhughes, and 18,644 others

yourusername WELCOME TO MY FIRST POST GAME PENALTY BOX UPDATE SHOW FOR THE 2023-2024 SEASON (for z-baby)! i’ve missed all of you terribly <3

my ducklings did not bring home the win tonight against vgk, but considering they just won the cup, they held their own pretty well!

AND JAMIE BABY GOT HIS FIRST ASSIST OF THE SEASON TONIGHT ON THE DUCKS ONLY GOAL! SCORED BY MASON! THAT’S MY BOYS!!!! for those wondering, yes, they got lots of good job forehead kisses!!

and shoutout to carrick, for giving me a fight, you’re such a real one for that and i love you <3 beautiful!

the rest of this season has so much potential to be amazing and action packed, and i can’t wait to go through it with my fav boys!

to my dear z-baby, please do a trick for my entertainment so that i can rave about you🧡 i love you, always!

tagged trevorzegras

view all 214 comments

trevorzegras i’ll give you something to rave about soon, sweet girl🧡 i love you, forever

yourusername you got this, z-baby! you’ll make mama proud!

jackhughes @/yourusername stop. calling. yourself. mama.

yourusername @/jackhughes stop. being. annoying.

trevorzegras @/jackhughes you know you’re supposed to love her, right?

jackhughes @/trevorzegras i do! very much! she just makes it hard!

yourusername @/jackhughes i love you, too, you human dildo🫶

jackhughes @/yourusername i take it back

yourusername @/jackhughes overruled🫶

jackhughes @/yourusername we aren’t in court?

yourusername @/jackhughes no, but i sure do like to judge

trevorzegras @/jackhughes HA @/yourusername i’m so in love with you. never change. you’re perfect.

yourusername @/trevorzegras i never plan to<3

user58 z was hearing some HOT gossip from the ref

colecaufield @/trevorzegras hey you fell on your ass

trevorzegras @/colecaufield i was pushed

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras and then you fell on your ass

trevorzegras “mmf” -my baby mama

yourusername @/trevorzegras it’s okay bb

trevorzegras @/yourusername you’re so comforting

yourusername @/trevorzegras i know🥰

colecaufield @/yourusername i wanna be bb

yourusername @/colecaufield you can also be bb!

trevorzegras alexa play traitor by olivia rodrigo

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras cry bb

user63 I’VE MISSED THIS SO MUCH

user12 what did trevor witness to make that face in the fourth pic omg😭

_quinnhughes i worry about you

yourusername don’t do that?

_quinnhughes yes do that because you love for violence is concerning!

yourusername it stems from my youth, QUINTIN

_quinnhughes HOW?!

lhughes_06 @_quinnhughes you ripped jack’s braces off

jackhughes @_quinnhughes we were so violent as kids

yourusername @_quinnhughes just because i took over the role of fighting jack doesn’t mean my love for watching fights stopped. this is really all on you.

_quinnhughes @/yourusername @/jackhughes @.lhughes_06 monkey see, monkey don’t do!

yourusername @_quinnhughes monkey saw, monkey did, monkey still does

slkight35 @/trevorzegras i’ve been told to say congrats

trevorzegras @/slknight35 oh no, you’ve been sucked in

slkight35 @/trevorzegras what?

colecaufield @/slkight35 you’re going to have to sign the princess treaty

slknight35 @/colecaufield that was even less helpful

jackhughes @/slkight35 we don’t break the princess

slknight35 @/jackhughes that’s a little closer to helpful

trevorzegras @/slkight35 the princess treaty at it’s very basic form is we all kinda just do whatever little thing she asks because it’s a “little thing” that “does no harm to you”

slkight35 @/yourusername sissy, why?

yourusername @/slknight35 it’s not my fault i somehow convinced all of them to agree to that

trevorzegras @/slknight35 she’s very convincing

jackhughes @/slknight35 “she’s very convincing” is code for she cries

user16 he’s drinking hot coffee???? am i in an alternate dimension????

jamie.drysdale thank you for the forehead kisses!

yourusername you’re ever so welcome, jamie baby!🧡

trevorzegras @/yourusername where’s my forehead kisses?

yourusername @/trevorzegras get a point and then we’ll talk

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras sucks to suck

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale you’re uninvited to the fort

yourusername @/trevorzegras we’re using his bedding he physically has to be in the fort! plus, i love him

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras ex hubby ex wifey solidarity, bb

trevorzegras @/yourusername @.jamie.drysdale 2 minute penalty for both of you for being meanies! get in the bathroom!

user3 that’s ducks hockey, baby🤪

user91 14 straight losses! pretty sure that’s a record!

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras aren’t you so happy that y/n gets new reaction memes?

trevorzegras @_alexturcotte sure, let’s go with that

yourusername i am! i am! i am!

_quinnhughes @_alexturcotte for trevor? yes. for me? not at all

yourusername @_quinnhughes i am! i am! i am!

_alexturcotte @/yourusername WOOOO!

jackhughes new memes! new memes! new memes!

yourusername @/jackhughes don’t assume you’re safe

_alexturcotte @/jackhughes you walked right into that one, jacky

jackhughes @_alexturcotte i have a tendency to do that

trevorzegras @/jackhughes you should stop that

jackhughes @/trevorzegras sissy would make a new entrance for me to walk into

yourusername @/jackhughes damn right

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername you’re such a sweetheart

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale thanks, i know<3

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dariaslookalike · 1 month

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Building Houses and Burning Bridges Pt 11: Teasing and tit Jobs

Summary:

It seems, oddly enough, that Gregory House lives to annoy you. He takes 'arseholish boss' to the next level. Wake up in the morning, ready to have breakfast, and drive to the hospital where you both work? Nope, you're getting a text that says you're late to his impromptu 4:30 AM meeting where he's had the 'breakthrough of the century' on the team's latest case. Get your hair cut and walk into work, for once feeling confident? Nope, he's saying that he would have done a better job blinded, hands tied and going through Vicodin withdrawals. Finally, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, prove him wrong and attempt to wipe the cockiness off his face? Nope, you're simply slow because you didn't get to your diagnosis quicker and weak-willed because you didn't fight him for it in the beginning. Everything House does infuriates you, and it seems everything you do infuriates him. No wonder you end up pinned to the wall of your apartment and groping him like your life depends on. And knowing House, it very may well.

Warnings: Adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Current Status: Ongoing

A/N: An update! Lol, this fic has been rotting in my google docs for too long. so i'm procrastinating my uni assignments due tomorrow, and i'm updating here. hope to get chapter 13 out by the end of may but we'll see how that goes lmao

Masterlist: Building Houses and Burning Bridges

Next Chapter: Pt 12

Word Count: 4.2k

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You’re off the medication, finally.

That’s what your rational brain should have thought when you woke up, and no longer saw the white pills on the bedside table. No more gulping them down, no more harsh cough or aches. You were better.

You’re not thinking that however.

You’re staring at House while he’s sleeping; which is odd, you can admit. Maybe creepy. You don’t admonish yourself, however. How could you? He’s entrancing. You wish you had some paper here, hell, even a napkin or tissue, so you could scrawl and sketch, to have something tangible to look at later.

You feel your heart twist at the notion. You might not wake up next to him again or ever; He might decide that just sex was horrible with you, and he never wants you in his bed again. Or he might have seen the way you looked at him last night, when you were rubbing his leg and easing his pain, and decided it was too much, too soon- decided that he was right at the start, and that there was no way you could ever stop your feelings for him from interfering with just sex .

Was he right? You knew that things had shifted in your heart after sleeping with him. Before, you could sidestep around the topic and push off any feelings as a simple whimsical thought, a school girl’s fantasy, and nothing more. Now, you want to kiss his lips and bite the apple of his cheek and suck his neck and tell him he’s yours and no one else's. Too much, too soon. You couldn’t do that, couldn’t tell him that- because House wasn’t yours. Sure, he seems intent on having more fun with you. But that was it. Just sex . He would never share the way you wanted him, he would never look at you with much else besides lust.

But you don’t have paper, or a napkin, or a tissue. So you lay there, and as you stare at him, in the back of your mind you think this will do. If I can’t have him the way I want him, this will do.

He looks at ease, for once. You know his leg is still bad and that even in his sleep, he’s probably scheming. But there’s no analysing gaze. He’s not staring down at some patient with mistrust and he’s not rolling his eyes at you and he’s not snapping at one of the ducklings. The notch in his brow isn’t so prominent and his mouth is open slightly as he breathes deeply. He’s relaxed, beside you. This will do.

His alarm goes off and you clench your eyes shut.

You hear him shift, fumbling to hit the clock and finally flicking the right button to silence it’s blaring noise. He lays back against the mattress and settles with a sigh. You listen to him breathe and the overwhelming stillness of the room.

“How long have you been awake and watching, newbie?”

You flick open one eye, and he has his arms tucked behind his head as he gazes up to the ceiling. “How’d you know?”

“I felt psychically attacked by you- or should I say ravaged?” He looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Also you snore when you’re sleeping.”

“I do not!”

He smiles at the ceiling. “Yes, you do. You sleep talk too.”

“No! You’re lying.” You swing out an arm, landing a light blow on his chest. He recoils from it with exaggeration and twists himself to face you.

“If it’s any consolation, you only say random things when you’re sleep talking. Like ‘House just like thaaaaa’.” He trails off into a high pitched moan.

You scoff, but bury your flaming face in your hands. You peek out, briefly. “Are you serious?”

He smirks. “Yep. You’re all over me, even in your sleep.” He reaches out a hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His hand rests on the side of your face, and his thumb smooths over your cheek. “But don’t worry. I’ll only tell Wilson.”

You laugh, but move swiftly and twist yourself to lean on your forearms and knees. House’s eyes flick between the dangling neckline of his shirt that you’re wearing, where your cleavage is showing, and your arse that you stick in the air.

“You’re not gonna tell Wilson anything.”

“Oh, yeah?” House cocks an eyebrow, flopping onto his back once more. He smirks at you. “What makes you so certain I haven’t already told him everything?”

“Because you were the one who had to stop a blowjob so you wouldn’t be a one pump chump. You can’t act like you didn’t want it just as much as me.”

He tilts his head, and tuts. “Yeah, I can. Last I checked, you were the one screaming- the one who lost the bet.” His smile drips with an overly sweet honey. “You still need to pay up, by the way. I take cash or checks.”

You sit back and his cool eyes track your movements as you sit on your heels. “I want a rematch.”

“Not a chance. I won, fair and square.”

“You won because you didn’t let me suck you off like I wanted.” You say bluntly. “You won because you were able to hulk out and keep me under you.”

His eyes darken at your words, but his lips still tilt up. “I’m a cripple and you’re playing the “you overpowered me” card?”

“No, I’m playing the “you had to top otherwise you would have been a goner” card.”

“Still not happening.”

“Double or nothing.” You clench your jaw. “But this time, I’m in control and you can sit there, and look pretty.”

House bats his eyelashes. “You know I’m the best at that. But trust me, you could tie me up and you’d still be the first one begging.”

You smirk, shifting on your knees slightly. “You wanna bet? Yesterday was a fluke on my part- I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. It was cabin-fever induced touch deprivation.”

He scoffs, sitting up and crossing his arms with a level of self-absorbed-assurance you couldn’t master. But there’s a glint in his eyes. He knows what you’re getting at, but he’s letting himself play right into your hand.

“Tie me up. You won’t win.” He moves, leaning up to whisper in your ear.

You laugh, placing your hand on his shoulder and shoving him back against the bedding. “Let me find your belt first and you won’t be so sure.”

You scooch past him and his hand snakes out, pinching your arse as you stand up from the bed. You shoot him a withering look and he just grins.

When you return, he cocks his head slightly. “I didn’t think you were serious about the belt. Gonna whip me too?”

You give him a pout dripping with fake sympathy. “Only if you beg.”

You scan the bed with a disapproving eye and he tracks your gaze to the solid headboard. “I can’t really tie you to that. So turn around.”

His eyes flick down you. “Just because we’ve committed the most unholy of sins together doesn’t mean you’re my boss now. Don’t go on a power trip.”

“Ohh, you’re so right, House.” His lips tilt up even though it’s obvious you’re mocking him. You lean forward, ghosting your lips against his in a smile. “Now be good for me, please, and turn over.”

You see him swallow, but he laughs you off and gives in, twisting around. You shuffle closer to him on the bed, and move his hands softly behind him. You loop the belt in on itself and place it around his wrists before tightening it. He hisses slightly when the edge digs into his skin, and you press your palm into his shoulder, spinning him back around.

He sits with his back up to the headboard, arms twisted behind himself. House glowers at you from beneath his brow. “I didn’t think you were serious .”

He stretches his legs out in front of him, and you see him already twitching in his boxers. You smirk. “You just don’t want to admit how much you like it.”

His jaw clenches.

“But,” you say, your voice dropping in tone. “If you don’t want this, at any point, tell me. No hard feelings.” You cross your fingers over your heart in a promise.

“I’ve known since I saw you that it would end with one of us tied up.” He tilts his head, raising his eyebrows up in an obvious fashion. “Next time, it’s your turn.”

Sitting beside his thigh, you pat it with mocking comfort. “Sure thing.”

He scowls at you but it’s quickly replaced by a sharp inhale when your hands reach out, pulling down his boxers. He’s half hard and you spit on your hands the same way you did last time. The action makes him tense. You reach out ghosting wet fingers across him and House hisses beside you. His attention is torn between your hands and your face. Eventually, you feel him decide to glare at you, and you look at him, a sweet saccharine smile in place.

“You doing alright, House?”

“Not exactly. Feels like you’re trying to tickle my dick.”

You laugh, and the mask of power slips for a moment when you tuck your chin to your chest in a giggle. You look back at him coyly, and his jaw ticks. “‘M sorry. I don’t have to touch you there.”

House opens his mouth to protest when your hand abandons him, but the words are lost when you siddle in close to him and let your fingers dance across his chest. You lean in closer, face next to his and your lips ghost across his cheek. He says nothing, no cocky retorts or snarky remarks to be heard. You kiss his cheek, and trail down to his jaw, your hand making smooth shapes across the plane of his chest, his shoulder, his neck. You tug his shirt up and it stays wrangled up, showing the smattering of hair leading down his lower belly. You plant kiss after kiss on everywhere you can reach, soft and gentle.

You find a spot on his neck and bite it softly before you continue across the smooth column of his throat, leaving wet kisses and marks wherever you can touch. Your other hand sneaks up behind him, entangling itself in his hair. You scratch against his scalp as you bite down on the junction between his neck and shoulder. He’s breathing heavily above you, and you finally abandon your own resistance, and lean closer, skating your lips across his. He leans into the kiss awkwardly, unable to support himself with his hands tied behind him, but he still pushes forward to you. You push him back, chasing after his lips and deepening the kiss. It’s intoxicating and feverish and your hand reaches down, this time firmly grasping his cock. He’s not half hard anymore, instead pulsing against your palm with heat. He gasps into your mouth and you smile against him.

You pull back, setting yourself beside him again.

You pump him with your hand firmly, and he groans, hips bucking softly into your hand. You pull back, and he shoots you a confused look.

You just smirk, staying silent. You pump him again, and pull back once more when he moves. He catches on quickly, hissing. “That is not fair.”

“Says who?” You tilt your head at him.

“Me.” He scoffs, indignantly.

“I don’t listen to crazy, tied up men.” You say, pouting sadly.

“Untie me then. I’ll prove I’m not crazy.”

“Nice try, House.”

You pump him again, and like the quick learner he is, he just grits his teeth and stays still.

“Good job, baby.” You say sweetly, pressing a kiss to his neck. You stroke him again, this time tightening your grip each time you reach his head. You kiss at his neck, pumping him up and down, loosely and then firm in your fist.

He swears beneath his breath softly. Not admitting defeat, but he’s getting there.

You spit down onto your palm, swiping your thumb over his head. You pump him again, and again, your other hand reaching down to softly cup and squeeze his balls.

He rolls his head back, leaning against the headboard with shut eyes. “Fuck, Newbie. The brothel teach you that trick?”

You hand tightens to the point of just-uncomfortable around his cock, and his eyes snap open as he groans. You snicker.

“I’ve had a lot of free time- you’ve got so many pornos in your apartment.”

His eyes snap to yours, and even though he knows that he doesn’t own one porno that could have taught you any of this, his eyes get glossy with the thought. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You pump him in your hand, faster, quickening the speed. “You’d be gone for so long and I got so bored.”

He can’t even respond to you, and you let out a breathy, just for show, moan, face scrunching as you keep talking in a breathy tone. You pump him, bouncing on your calves slightly with the movement. “Had to fuck myself in your bed while you were gone. Did it when you were in the lounge room, sleeping on the couch.”

He’s enraptured, mouth open slightly and blue eyes pinned to yours as you continue. “Wasn’t enough. Just kept thinking I should go and wake you up and beg you to help me.”

His throat bobs. “You should have.”

You lean closer, running your mouth along his jaw. He just tilts his head back, giving you better access. “I will be.”

You pump him faster, the sound of his cock fucking into your hand obscene and filling the room.

“Fuck.” He says, voice breathy. “I’m close.”

“Just gotta beg for, House. C’mon, you can use your words.” You mumble against his skin. “I’ll swallow it all.”

Maybe a small part thought that would break his resolve, but he shakes his head and you grin against him.

“No.”

You lean back, smirking at him. “Then you don’t get to cum.”

He glares at you, his nostrils flaring, but he says nothing, fine to be blue balled if it means you don’t win so quickly.

He expects you to stop your movement but you don’t. You keep pumping him, faster, harder, smiling softly at him.

“W-what are you doing?” He asks, voice shaky, his hips stuttering into your hand- you won’t punish him for that right now.

“Nothing.” You look at him innocently. “Just don’t cum.”

“Well, sweetheart.” He spits, still managing to sound like he has the power here. “I don’t have the willpower of a buddhist monk, if you keep jerking me off like this I’m going to cum.”

“I know.” You smile sweetly, pumping his cock up and down with your fist.

He glances to your face, confused at what you’re playing at. He won’t understand until it’s too late, and so his gaze rips back down to where your hand is wrapped around him.

“I’m-” He stutters. “Fuck, I’m going to-”

He can’t finish his sentence, as you keep jerking him at a brutal pace, his head lolling back. He groans, throbbing in your palm.

You wretch your hand back at the last second and watch with a grin as his dick falls against his stomach, his cum splattering against his bare stomach. His voice is wrecked as he calls out, swearing. His breath is heavy, shuddering up and down.

His dick is still hard and red, and his eyes fling open, glaring at you as you smile back at him.

“What the fuck did you just do , Newbie?”

You cross your finger over your heart. “A magician never tells her secrets.”

He opens his mouth to protest or cuss you out, but falls silent when you reach out and wrap your hand around his still hard cock once more.

“Fuck! Fuck that’s so- fuck.” He groans, shaking his head. He lets out a wrecked sound from the back of his throat as you smear his cock in his own cum, using it to stroke him up and down once more.

He’s oversensitive, but ruined. You look at him, jutting out your bottom lip. “You alright House? D’you want me to jerk you off again?”

He shakes his head and your movements instantly still, but then he nods. “No, yes. Fuck, that just feels so much more .”

Your hands resume their gentle movement as you grin wickedly. “That’s the point.”

You pause, moving to nudge his legs apart and you resettle, kneeling between them. He sighs, relieved when your hand falls from his cock, giving him some reprieve. Instead, you spread your own legs, hand tracing down your soft stomach circle at that spot between your legs. You’re so wet, and you use the slick to run messy circles over your clit. You moan, your other hand falling to his non-injured leg for support. Your fingers dig into the skin as the pressure builds up in your core. He says nothing, and your eyes flick up to his, moaning out his name as you start to shudder. When you make yourself unravel in front of him, he doesn't say anything, but his cock bobs, neglected weeping at the head.

You use your free hand to tug your shirt up, over your head. You spit into your messy palm, and reach up smearing both yourself and him against your breasts.

“C’mon. Untie me.”

Your eyes flick up to his, which are glued to your chest. “Beg.”

“No.”

“Then no.”

You shuffle backwards on the bed, and pat the mattress in front of you. “Move it, House.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m a tied up cripple. Did you think that one through?”

You shoot him a look, and he sighs but shuffles closer until he finally lays flat against the mattress, head still propped up by the pile of pillows. You settle between his spread legs, placing a kiss to his thigh. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He scowls. “I got rope burn from my own belt.”

“Aw, you poor thing.” You look up at him, doe-eyed. “I’ll make it better.”

Your hand dips down to the apex of your thighs and once more you smear your slick against your chest. You spit into your hand too, and massage your breasts, squeezing them.

You lean down, until you’re positioned perfectly over his cock. It bobs at your attention, and you look up, grinning at House. He still scowls at you, but there’s an excited glint in his eyes.

You nudge his cock between your breast, and move yourself, back and forward. You have to find a good rhythm first, but soon you’re guiding your slick breasts up and down his cock.

“Shit. Fuck, Newbie.” He gasps, and you bat your lashes up at him, quickening your speed. Soft, wet slapping fills the room and you moan quietly.

He groans, cock still overstimulated. You just let drool pool onto your breasts, squeezing them tighter as give him a tit job.

You hear him shuffle against the sheets and you look up once more, still guiding his cock in and out.

He looks like he could murder you, but sucks in a sharp breath. “Please, let me cum.”

You tsk. “You call that begging?”

He groans as you keep fucking him, his own weeping pre-cum making it messier.

“Please, Newbie.” He growls, voice drawing out into a groan. “Please, fuck, make me cum.”

“You lose.” You say softly.

He nods, desperate, cheeks flushed, stomach tensing. He’s close, wrecked after his ruined orgasm. He needs this.

You take pity on him, and still your movements. He whips his head up to look at you, aghast, but he curses when you quickly straddle him, nudging his cock closer to your centre, and sink down on him.

You sigh as he bottoms out, while he groans loudly. He’s big, but with how wet and ready you are, you take him easier this time. He stills nudges up against your cervix, and you feel so full when you sit fully down on him. You don’t have it in you to play him any further, and instead begin bouncing yourself on him. It’s not harsh, but his moans have a desperation in them that coil that feeling in your stomach once more.

“F-fuck.” He gasps, cursing when you angle him deeper. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Or vicodin.” You say, teasing.

He shakes his head, face scrunched up in pleasure. “You. It’s going to be you.”

“Yeah?” You breathe shakily atop him.

“Yeah.” He moans. “You feel so fucking good. Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.”

You lean down, pressing your chest to his, kissing his neck softly. “Mmhmm. Just for you, House.”

“Just for me.” He growls, beneath you. At this angle, his cock nudges against that spongey spot inside you. Not having to ask for permission or be the one to beg, you hold that angle, fucking yourself on him, making his cock hit that spot again and again.

He holds out well, but when you whine against his neck, and your orgasm rolls over you, clenching you against his cock, he lets out a loud groan. He bucks his hips into yours, and you sit back against him as he keeps cumming. He groans, and you feel his cock pulsing in you, throbbing against your walls.

When he finally stops, he lets out a heavy breath, his chest falling and rising rapidly.

“Fuck.” He says.

“Fuck.” You agree, chuckling.

You swing your legs off him, his cum dripping out of you. You don’t care about ruining his sheets, and instead help him sit up, untieing him.

Even with his spend dripping out of you, and your slick smeared against his crotch, when his arms are untied he wraps them around your waist and pulls you closer, drawing you into a deep kiss.

You smile against him. “Glad you’re not a sore loser.”

“‘M so glad you are.” He teases, lips tugging up.

#house md fanfiction #house md x reader #gregory house x reader #gregory house #house md #masterlist #house md masterlist #greg house x f!reader #gregory house fic #gregory house smut #dariaslookalike masterlist #dariaslookalike fic

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biohazard-4ever · 1 month

Note

How do you imagine Leon as a boyfriend? :333

For both our indulgence and Claire's :D

This got me while I'm still a little dry of HCs. I have been out of the fandom for quite some time (7 years) and am returning only now so, I don't have many HCs to share with... Yet... So, this will definitely be a little messy and not as good! But I'll definitely comeback to this on later dates and update it constantly.

Are you ready? Are you? (COMPLETELY SFW HCs btw)

Oh, you pressed Read More. You sure are ready!

LEON WITH AN S/O COMPLETELY CLUELESS ABOUT BIOTERRORISM:

Maybe you'll want to accuse him of being too aloof for not giving you the satisfaction of telling about his whereabouts. Your friends might even accuse him of being toxic for keeping these "shady" secrets.

If you press him too much, he may let it slip that he is working under a "legal governmental organization" (The president himself, cough) that deals with really complicated things and he would rather not put you in the middle of all this. He is doing this to protect you, damn it! Can't you understand it?

His work will often be a problem in your relationship... It is something with the potential to kill him out of stress, yet, it is something he does not discuss with you at all. Don't take it as if he does not trust in you enough to share his burden. He just isn't allowed to.

Every time he comes home, you are shocked about the new scars and/or bruises he appears with. All you know is that he travels a lot, has excellence with guns and martial arts, and the more you think about it, the scarier you get. You're no fool... You know that whatever Leon is dealing with in his work, certainly has the full potential of killing him (and you).

PDA. Please, if you are not into it... Well, what are you doing with the one guy that will imprint on someone as a duckling?! There are days he leaves work and goes back home for lunch just because he wants to feel your scent and hold you for a few extra minutes!

You are his piece of normality, and he wants to keep things that way... Maybe you read somewhere about this "conspiracy theory" where "Zombies and Bio-weapons exist". He immediately pulls your attention to check the pup store! The Golden Retrievers pups are on sale!

LEON WITH AN S/O WHO ALSO WORKS FOR ANTI-GOVERNMENT (Or, basically, Leon with Claire!)

Leon is not content that you/Claire have to deal with this in any form or way. But he will not dictate how you/she should live your life. This is your fight too, all he gotta do is do his job twice as well so that YOU will not have to deal with it. He is the pawn at the front line, if back-up organizations need to take action, he already failed his job.

He will show up in the Terra Save HQ. Yes, he will pull his Government I.D at the entry lobby while demanding access to her office in the Non-Governamental Agency. He has lunch to deliver to his girl/wife and he wants to enjoy lunch break by her side!

Every birthday is celebrated as a miracle. It is like being borne again. One more year while living this crazy life? And you two get to celebrate it together? Insane.

IF HIS S/O CAN GET PREGNANT, he will feel a little more of urgency to do just so. You know...? You two live a very dangerous job and... Leon wants to leave a piece of him to you (or have a piece of you, in the worst-case scenario, for him). If not the case, he is completely as eager to adopt a child with you.

LEON WITH ANY S/O:

They will lay in bed on lazy weekends with their lips touching all the time while talking about sweet nothings. His hands inside their shorts' back pocket. Kneading their hips and buttcheeks lovingly.

When walking through the streets with his S/O, if cold or windy, he will put their hand inside his jacket's pockets while holding their hands.

Leon does a lot of things that, for him, it is only natural and he does not really notice he IS doing it until his S/O points it out, like, when having dinner at a restaurant or just at the table of their dining room... If his S/O leans down to try and fetch something that fell or is under their chair that requires them to lean down and reach under the table, Leon will stretch his arm to cover the table's edges closer to his S/O so they won't get hurt or hit themselves when they sit back.

He has two phones. One exclusively for his work, and one his S/O has complete and free access. When they're ready to sleep, Leon will put his phone on the bed on its side working as a mini-TV. His arm works as his S/O's personal pillow while you two watch videos and whatnot (tiktok, youtube, Netflix... You name it)

Leon does not like anything that has to do with BITES. Just. Don't. Not. No funny. And especially, DON'T BITE HIS NECK UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE PUT IN A SLEEPER HOLD. Don't worry, he will grow to accept kisses and wet, sloppy kisses there. Just try and understand it, poor boy has it rough, and often his neck seems to have a red target in it whenever he is out on an assignment.

Sweet messages are not uncommon. Leon acts as an eager youngster in love and you're his first ever sweetheart! He loves to BE in love. He daydreams about your life together and expectations.

He is not a shy guy or antisocial, and maybe his easy-going personality may trigger some jealousy from his S/O but, please, don't hold it against the man. Leon is a Human-people and he loves social interactions. As he said to Buddy after inviting him to drink some beers: "I like company". And it shows! He also invited Mike for a few drinks after they returned to the USA from Spain. (RIP Mike)

Leon loves shopping. Have you seen the man's jackets and watches he uses on a daily bases? His BIKES? Leon is a good-looking guy and he knows it. He wants to stay well-dressed and always presentable. Proud to always be seen as "the handsome boyfriend of his S/O" He even would use that as his first name if you would allow it. (You don't :( ) So, be prepared for a lot of walking and clothes shopping with him!

#HC #mine #leon #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #claire #claire redfield #cleon #OC #S/O #SO #LeonxSO #LeonXS/O

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bitchiswild · 5 months

Text

Clingy

Blackpink x F! Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1k

A/n: I’m kinda jet lagged, so I get sleepy at random times but! ☝️I will try to write the requests in my inbox, give me time🙏

Requested

Since all the girls had been occupied with their separate schedules, you finally managed to align everyone's free time for a long-overdue movie night. The excitement was palpable as Jisoo arrived first at your penthouse. The moment she stepped through the door, you attached yourself to her like a duckling, following her every move.

You trailed behind Jisoo to the kitchen, standing beside her as she prepared snacks for the movie. Your companionship even extended to the bathroom, but Jisoo promptly kicked you out, a move that spared her privacy momentarily. However, your attention quickly shifted as the sound of keys jingled at your front door. Rushing to greet the newcomer, you found Jennie entering. Without hesitation, you leaped into her arms, catching her off guard. Despite giggling at your antics, Jennie only managed to extricate herself when she needed to remove her jacket. Pouting, you reluctantly released her, but the moment she finished, you resumed your hugging spree not wanting to let her go.

Jisoo, having exited the bathroom, greeted Jennie and observed your clinginess. "She's really clingy today," Jisoo remarked.

"Maybe because we haven't seen each other in a while," Jennie replied, her affection for you evident. You were like her baby, and the feeling of missing you was mutual. Her heart ached from being away from her maknae for too long.

Turning your head, you noticed Jisoo again, and like a magnet, you gravitated toward her, hugging her as well. This prompted a sigh from Jisoo and a giggle from Jennie. "I was only gone for a couple of minutes, Y/n," Jisoo said, gently caressing your head.

You shook your head, complaining, "A couple of minutes too long," as you buried your head into Jisoo's chest, inhaling her comforting scent that brought you back to your trainee days. Jisoo had always been a source of comfort for you.

As the trio—consisting of you, Jennie, and Jisoo—headed towards the couch, Jisoo more waddled than walked due to your refusal to let her go. The sound of someone at the door suddenly caught your attention.

"Hello! Anybody home?" the voice called out. Excitement filled the air as you quickly let go of Jisoo, rushing towards the voice.

"Chaeyoung!" you exclaimed with pure excitement, rushing into her arms.

"Y/n!" she exclaimed back, dropping all the things in her hands to hug you tightly. "I missed you so much!" she continued, grabbing your face to observe you, turning it into a playful moment that left you looking like a fish, courtesy of her gentle squeezing. "My baby is beautiful as ever," she whispered, planting a sweet peck on your forehead.

Sighing in comfort, your face buried into her neck, and your legs wrapped around her waist. Chaeyoung didn't mind; she loved every moment of it, gladly carrying you to the living room where the other girls were.

Greeting them, Chaeyoung remarked, "Hey girls, Y/n is more clingy than usual, huh?" She questioned as she hugged them, even with you still attached to her.

"Yeaaa, she really misses us. She clung onto Jisoo and me for a while earlier too," Jennie updated Chaeyoung.

Chaeyoung settled in between Jisoo and Jennie, with you still comfortably on her lap. However, since Jennie and Jisoo were also around, you sought their warmth. You grabbed their hands and held on, sighing in comfort because almost all your favorite people were around you.

Just as you got comfortable, the sound of keys echoed near the door. Quickly letting go of Jennie and Jisoo's hands and getting off Chaeyoung's lap, you rushed towards the front door, excited that finally, all your favorite people were in the same room.

Lisa finished taking off her shoes, then noticed you opening your arms. "Y/n! My favorite member!" Lisa exclaimed as you ran into her arms, embracing her tightly. The rest of the girls in the living room chimed in with a offended "Hey!" Lisa giggled at their reply but still held onto you tightly as she made her way toward them, greeting each one. "Just to warn you, Y/n is very clingy today." Jisoo said.

"I can see that," Lisa replied, looking down at you in her arms and gently caressing your cheek.

"Y/n, are you ready to watch the movie?" Jennie questioned.

You hummed. "Wait, let me hug Lisa a little more," you said, eliciting giggles from the girls. Finally, you let Lisa go, and the movie began.

Throughout the entire movie, you sat in the middle, with Jisoo and Lisa on the floor, and Jennie and Chaeyoung on either side of you. You needed them to at least touch you in some sort of way, or else you would throw a fit. The girls understood you, and since you were their baby, they would do anything for you. While the movie played, everyone hugged your legs or arms, making you sigh contently in the warmth of their presence.

As the movie came to an end, everyone turned their attention to you, noticing your attempt to hold back tears. "Y/n, what's wrong?" Jennie asked with concern.

Tears fell as you answered, "I don't want you guys to leave yet."

"Oh, baby, it's okay. We'll sleep over, okay?" Chaeyoung reassured, attempting to comfort you as Lisa and Jisoo wiped away your tears.

"And we will cuddle with you all night long, okay?" Lisa added, making you nod with a smile.

"We love you, Y/n," Jisoo expressed, gently caressing your cheek.

"I love you guys too. Thank you for being here and dealing with my clinginess," you told them, feeling grateful.

The girls didn't mind. "You're our maknae; we would do anything for you," Chaeyoung said.

"Let's head to bed, yeah?" Jennie suggested, helping you up. The girls guided you towards your room, preparing for a cozy night.

"Can we hang out tomorrow?" you asked.

They all giggled. "Yes."

And with that, the girls entered your room, closing the door behind them, ready to enjoy a night filled with happiness and cuddles.

#bitchiswild #BIW.WRITES #fluff #blackpink imagines #blackpink chaeyoung #blackpink fanfiction #blackpink jennie #blackpink jisoo #blackpink lisa #blackpink #blackpink x fem reader #blackpink x reader #blackpink fluff #blackpink fanfic #rosé x reader #jennie kim x reader #lisa x reader #jisoo x reader

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f10werfae · 2 years

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Headcannon for this:

Chris and reader call the triplets little ducks/ducklings because of Scrooge McDuck (the Disney character) and his little ducklings 🥹🥹

pairing: Husband!Dad!Chris x Short!hairstylist!reader

summary: The story of the The three little duckings, Noah, Jacob and Isabelle Evans. The beloved yet crazy triplets of Y/n and Chris Evans, their ‘first borns’ you could say

Requests are open/Likes, Comments + Reblogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

• Chris definitely has a soft spot for Isabelle, the only girl out of the triplets, even though she’s a mommy’s girl she has her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger. Noah and Jacob are the teasers, taking on Chris' personality AND looks; let’s just say Y/n was fuming when they first came out and she saw Chris' face x3

• Chris even updated to a bigger car for the family, knowing damn well he’d want to extend it more, hence Y/n being pregnant once again with their fourth baby

•“Daddy’s home baby and babies” Chris smiled to himself once he entered the warmly lit Boston family home, one he never thought he’d ever achieve. With his bag set by the front door, he knew immediately where to find the loves of his life. Their bedroom.

• In Y/n and Chris' bedroom, all three kids were huddled up to their mama, little Izzy's head even resting right by Y/n's 6 month bump. Chris felt himself swoon, his three year olds were the most precious thing to him, bar his loving wife, even though they had basically left no room for him. Dodger had even taken his usual spot on the foot of the bed.

•Bath time was another nightmare, Chris luckily was in charge of drying and dressing them, although sometimes this proved to be a challenge. With Noah and Jacob always wanting to match pyjamas, and Izzy finding it hard to choose between certain colours to wear to bed.

• Pregnancy hormones made Y/n that more horny, which isn’t always easily solved when you have three children under 5 and one on the way. So Chris tends to trick the children into watching a Disney movie in the living room with Dodger, while he takes care of his woman upstairs in bed

•Bed time? Chris and Y/n hardly ever sleep alone in the room, with a guarantee of at least one of the twins wanting to slip into the middle because of the monsters hiding under the other’s beds

• “Baby you can’t be walkin' about like that” Chris whined watching his wife walk about in one of her summer maternity dresses, one she knew made him squirm in the best way. However, today was not the day. All three kids were buggering to use the pool in the backyard, and Chris being Chris decided that it was his duty to teach all three how to swim then and there

• “You’re such a good dad, maybe you’ll get a reward later or sumthin” Y/n smiled caressing his face softly and kissing him only to be interrupted, “NO, OUR MOMMY” All three small voices shouted pushing themselves between the couple, hugging onto Y/n’s legs they all threw a glare at their father who could only find himself smiling back

•“She was my wife first ya know” He would say, “Yeah? but dada we were in her tummy first” Jacob would retort, “Well I put you there buddy” Chris would answer, only to receive a hit on the back of the head from his gorgeous wife

•With Y/n being a hairstylist, obviously she would be the one to do the kids' hairs, using Chris as her personal assistant to hand her specific tools and combs. “I remember when you did my hair” Chris said dreamily watching her comb at Izzy’s soft curls, “Baby I still do your hair”

•“Chris what if the kids walk in?” Y/n whimpered feeling her husband’s fingers trace over her wet folds, both of them had woken up extremely early that morning, with it being Sunday they knew for now that the coast was clear. “They won’t bunny, they’re knocked out until at least 11” Chris whispered coating Y/n’s breasts in hickies and kisses while she caressed his growing hair. His fingers now taking their time to draw circles over her clit, his eyes tracing her face as she bit onto her lip to silence herself. A smirk on his face when he felt her clench around his fingers, soon to be replaced by his cock for some Sunday morning loving

•“Dada, dont tell momma, but she has ouchie here” Izzy whispered to her dad pointing to her upper thigh, desperate concern on the sweet little girl’s face, “You gotta fix it n’ make her better dada” She cried, holding onto her dad as they walked through the dog park, her brothers preferring to stay home with their mother and watch T.V

•“Don’t worry bub, s'okay, daddy will make momma feel all better alright?” He cooed kissing his daughter’s forehead affectionately, silently cursing at himself for letting one of his love bites he left on his wife be seen, and he though he had gotten away with it too. If it wasn’t for those meddling kids (Scooby reference, I had to)

• With all three of them for now somehow inheriting Y/n's smaller stature, they all fit onto Chris' lap, their now claimed throne. Heck even at bed time if they weren't all huddled in their parents' bed, they'd all slip into each other's beds for some sibling cuddle time

• " 'acob, I needs help" Izzy huffed holding out her shoes to her oldest brother, by 6 minutes, Jacob. Being the baby of the triplets, the three year old definitely milked her brothers attention. Jacob as clueless as she was, held up the two shoes in the air, wondering what shoe went on what foot. Deciding based on randomness, he helped her put on her shoes and off they went, with two left feet

•“Noah bud you alright?” Chris asked watching his small son crawl up under his shirt and huddle under the fabric adorably. “Mhm jus wan’ huggies dada” Noah whispered peeking up at Chris through the head hole, a cute gummy smile on his face, one he inherited from his mama

•Soon enough all three kids were under Chris’ shirt almost as if they were all back in the womb again, all cocooned into a tiny space. Y/n joined them on the sofa with her collection of treats, leaning her head onto her husband’s shoulder; his hand found itself atop her bump just rubbing it comfortingly. All three kids slowly falling asleep to the sound of Chris’ heartbeat; Y/n then following soon after with the help of Chris’ kisses and whispers of ‘i love you’ and things which aren’t PG ♥️

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @patzammit @pandaxnienke @uwiuwi @jackslover12 @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @seren-a-ity @royalwriteroftheuniverse @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @mirikusashes @mysticfalls01 @taramaria @chrisevansdaughter @chrisevansangel @evanstanwhore @cevansgurl @marvelgurl @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @meetmeatyourworst @imboredat2am @adoreyouusugar @fdl305 @stormcloudss @caps-shield1918 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @sairsei @tojisbabymomma @kimhtoo17 @itsaylayay1213 @mrspeacem1nusone @thereisa8ella @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms (If your tag is in bold, check your settings so I can actually tag you♥️♥️)

#romance #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans one shot

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cuntyqueerleondraisaitl · 2 years

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Fluffy Hilson headcanons because I'm bored

they've slept together at least once while blackout drunk and never mention it because they both think the other forgot

The ducklings all know, all of them, and so does cuddy

Thirteen and Cameron gossip about them all the time (the two of them also def kept in touch after Cameron left)

whenever one of them makes a joke about them being a couple they get momentarily hopeful and then sad again

when they eventually do start dating it's kinda a secret but everyone knows and just pretends not to

house cooks for Wilson, a lot, and Wilson loves it so, so much

I might add more

EDIT: MORE (for @schicksal-von-avalon)

Wilson makes those pancakes a lot and pretends to be mad when House steals them

All the ducklings are happy when they get together, mainly because House is nicer and Wilson is more confident. But they all ship them 2

neither of them officially came out, independently or as a couple, but as I said, everyone knows

House never was into PDA (as we saw with Cuddy) so they just wink at each other a lot (But it's reeeeeeally sweet trust me)

Their first kiss was immediately followed by House saying "I don't know, that's kind of gay" before leaning in again

I'll add more if u want...

EDIT 2: I THOUGHT OF MORE!!

Wilson loves Houses laugh. You know the one. The little head duck and giggle. Even when he's being sarcastic. Whenever House does in Wilson has to physically restrain himself from squealing

They both love roller coasters but House doesn't like how he has to hobble out to get his cane, so Wilson helps him hide it

House can do magic, like well. Slight of hand and card tricks and when they're at home he can do tricks with fire. This makes Wilson clap his hands like a little girl

Wilson sometimes arranges cheese platters when they spend nights together in the shape of cartoon characters and animals.

Whenever one of them wakes u before the other for work or whatever, they leave little cheesy note on the pillow. Ranging from "You're cute" to whole essays. This eventually turns into a contest on who can write the longest letter, the current record holder is Wilson with a 12-paged, double-sided, and single-spaced note.

Pls send me ur own headcanons cause I got one from a user (who preferred to remain anonymous) and it made my week

also, if requested or we reach 175 notes, I'll add more

EDIT: Sorry this update took so long, thanks for everyone’s contributions

Movie nights are common, but house always has to choose because Wilson always spirals when he has to make a decision

Cuddy definitely had a “you better not hurt him” talk with house

House will come home and randomly rearrange Wilson’s furniture, which he finds both annoying and endearing

They get a dog. They name it Steve II. That’s the whole headcannon

Again, I might add more

Ok I though of one more!

Both of them are scared of spiders but House pretends not to be when they're at home. But when they're in the office and see one they have to page Chase, who laughs at them for being scared of a pathetic American spider

#hilson #tv: house md #homosexuality #homosexuality and bisexuality #house md #house x wilson #hate crimes md #allison cameron #remy hadley #thirteen house #gregory house #james wilson #dr house #dr wilson

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allylikethecat · 3 months

Link

Chapters: 22/? Fandom: The 1975 (Band) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: George Daniel/Matthew Healy Characters: Matthew Healy, George Daniel, Ross Macdonald, Adam Hann, Jamie Oborne Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Past Drug Addiction, Mpreg Summary:

Matty lied, which was probably a mistake since he was a shit liar on a good day, and today wasn’t a good day. He was much better at just, not saying anything, even though his therapist had told him that was really just lying by omission. He couldn’t meet Jamie’s eyes, and knew he was sweating nervously. He was hyper aware that he could feel the wand in his back pocket.

Just like in the bathroom after the show, two parallel lines stared back at him, confirming deep down what he already knew. The test was positive.

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violetjedisylveon · 8 months

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I had a spicynoodles idea last night

It's basically just them in Tangled

LBD is Mother Gothal obvi, MK is Rapunzal and Red Son is Flynn.

Maybe Mei can be Pascal but a tiny dragon instead? Or she's Maximas but badass horse dragon.

King and Queen(I don't think they have names) can is Shadowpeach.

Suggestion from @frikijedai, Freenoodles run the ugly duckling bar place, and I really like that.

I think it also works with Red Son as Rapunzal and MK as Flynn but Red Son doesn't seem like the type to take LBD's bs as much. He does have the hair for it tho

Important Update!

I'm going with the Red Son as Rapunzal version, @py-dreamer had some really good ideas + I get to draw Red Son with really long, fluffy hair.

MK works good as Flynn because he can fit Flynn's story pretty well, an orphan inspired by a popular character in a story he told all the other kids and makes a new image for himself based on that hero.

Mei is a smol dragon that is constantly teasing the boys, she's kinda like the dragon from the Barbie Rapunzal movie, maybe she can turn into a humanoid form but prefers or is stuck in ity bity dragon form.

LBD definitely knows about Mei here but since she's very smol and seemingly insignificant, LBD doesn't give a shit about her, + she keeps Red Son from bugging her too much.

Freenoodles still run the ugly duckling tavern/restaurant thing like in the suggestion from @frikijedai.

The Mayor is still LBD's assistant, I thought about him being the small old man from the tavern but nah.

This isn't strictly sticking to the Tangled story, it's more Tangled + fairytale inspired AU, it has the same major plot points but the details are a bit different.

Red Son's power does not come from his hair, he has the power in him. His hair will glow and hest up when he says the incantation, and he can send the fire through it + it catches fire when he gets too emotional. So his hair is a better weapon cause it can burn people. If it gets cut its very flammable.

MK is still a monkey.

Update 2!

The more I work on this the less it sticks to the Tangled story

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stiltonbasket · 3 months

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Shen Yuan followed by Luo ducklings during walks, taking a nap in a Luo kittens pile, teaching sword forms with Luo tiger cubs, teaching Luo songbirds music.

I just want our dearest Shen Yuan to always be surronded by children that may as well be his, with how much love I know is between them.

*goes feral* I JUST LOVE STORIES OF ADULTS SEEING A CHILD AND GOING "MY CHILD, THIS IS MY CHILD NOW" AND LOVING THEM SO MUCH, AND THE CHILDREN FEELING LIKE THEY FOUND SOMETHING THEY DIDN'T KNOW THEY WERE MISSING, I am going insane, thank you, I can't wait for the next update, we need more of the babies!

The next chapter is mostly a flashback reel (cough Bingge searching Shen Yuan's dreamscape for evidence of an affair cough), so we won't see much more of the Bingbaos until chapter 4! But never fear, Empress-Mother Shen Qinglan and his clingy adopted babies will return soon enough. <3

Re: Shen Yuan and Bingge's children, all four of the kids were very much loved and doted on before SY showed up. Ning Yingying, Liu Mingyan, and the Little Palace Mistress are all devoted to their respective children, and Sha Hualing (while often physically absent, because of her duties as one of Bingge's generals) is fiercely protective of her son.

Bingge is also a fairly decent dad—he's genuinely fond of all his children and makes sure to spend time with them, cook for them, etc. on a semi-regular basis. The Bingbaos are just used to having multiple mother figures, so they saw Shen Yuan, went "Hm. That's mother-shaped," and never looked back. XD

#asks #svsss #a wife by any other name

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ | ꜱ. ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ

Stephen Strange x Surgeon!Reader

summary: YN had been struggling with a cold for as long as she could remember – well, for a week. But being her restless and (kinda) workaholic self, this minor cold morphed into something that benched her definitively. And who could be a better caretaker than her loving boyfriend, who happens to be a doctor himself?

word count: 7.3k

warnings: a tiny bit drama, medical stuff, surgery stuff, mentions of sick people, surgery, mentions of blood, reader has pneumonia, passing out, hospital environment, Stephen kinda freaks out because he is always thinking the worst, protective!Stephen, soft!Stephen (but only for reader), slight suggestive bits, so much fluff, talk about future, short mentions of the Avengers

author’s note: I had so much fun writing this request! Finally something where I could pour my Grey’s Anatomy knowledge into :D I really hope you like the direction in which this one went @colewritess :3 I needed some angsty drama in my life, so I put that in :x

Waking up in the middle of the night was something very common in the Strange-LN household ever since the two doctors had acquired their white coats and had graduated with honors. Usually, YN was the first one to wake up to the vibration of her pager, followed by the usual soft ring of her phone because one of her interns would update her on the incoming case beforehand. Stephen would follow close behind, throwing one arm lazily over her waist at first to nuzzle his face back into the warmth of her neck - it helped him to shrug the deep slumber off his hardworking mind - before the blanket would get thrown away to relieve the world of the sadness of not seeing his toned, utterly gorgeous body.

YN was nothing but an admiring girlfriend.

But this early morning, almost still the depth of the night, things were differently: Instead of hearing the tired voice of his girlfriend softly speaking into the phone and waking him up with that, so he could check his already vibrating pager too, the only sounds heard in the dark bedroom was YN's shallow breath and the never-ending sounds of both pagers and her almost barely ringing phone. Confusion settled into the doctor, even more so after he had propped himself up on one of his arms, letting the mattress dip in the process of it, and still, YN did not start to stir even slightly. But before he could process her strange behavior, he had to accept the call.

"Yes?"

He never was a fan of greetings, especially not in the face of interns - and he kind of enjoyed messing around with those tiny ducklings, barely out of their mother's homes, who still had to learn a lot. Even now, Stephen could almost grab the perplexity radiating through his girlfriend's phone at the sound of his voice.

"Uhm... This is Doctor LN's number. You are not Doctor LN," a hesitant voice started to speak, and Stephen had to roll his eyes in amusement before they settled atop the still sleeping form of the woman he not only shared this bed with on a few occasions. "A wonder how you earned that place in Harvard, Jones," the Strange scoffed while he reached out for his bedside lamp to let the soft light invade the dark bedroom, only illuminated by the streetlights and passing cars outside the window front. Blinking against the new light source, he took a closer look at the gorgeous woman next to him, his eyebrows starting to furrow at the sight of her puffy eyes, the red nose resembling one of the stuffed Rudolphs they had seen only a week ago while doing their annual Christmas shopping, and not to mention her breathing of which he obviously wasn't a huge fan. "Hold on a second..." The seemingly simpleminded intern mumbled before he clearly put the phone a few inches away from his face to shout over the entire floor, "You were right, Macy! Doctor LN and Strange are a thing!" And then, the voice returned, louder now.

This day hadn't even begun, and Stephen wanted to strangle the first one already.

"I am sorry, sir. The coffee still has to kick in, I guess... Nevermind. There is a GSW incoming: a bullet in his brain and several in his thorax. He was stable, so we decided to do a CT. I'll send the images to Doctor LN's tablet as soon as I have them." At least Jones wasn't a total incompetent fool, so Stephen didn't have to rip his head off entirely. "Send them to mine; she will look at them on our way to the hospital. Don't let him die because your coffee addiction gets in the way of saving lives." And with that, he ended the call, and the phone landed on his pillow before Stephen slowly scooted closer to the sleeping woman, and now he finally had room for his over-boarding worries etching themselves into his mind.

Gently, his hand caressed her cheek before his flat palm made contact with her forehead to feel her temperature. Maybe slightly raised, Stephen thought before bending down and pressing whisper of kisses all over her face. Now, she seemed to wake up - scrunching her nose, twisting her lips, and the coughs started almost immediately. They were his constant companion as soon as he stepped into the apartment ever since they began to occur one and a half weeks ago, and by now, the cold should've calmed down. Instead, it seemed worse than yesterday. His idea to grab dinner on their way home wasn't probably his best idea of the week, but YN had seemed fine enough to agree.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Stephen mumbled with his lips pressed against her cheek, and YN slowly turned her head with a groan. "What time is it?" Even her voice sounded horrible. "Something around three. There is a GSW coming in, but you can stay home if you like. I'm handling it." The next cough made the man almost flinch, and he was sure he felt the aching pain in his lungs and throat as bad as YN obviously did, judging by her scrunched-up face and her hand that had settled atop her burning throat. She looked back at him and cocked an eyebrow. "Thorax?"

He nodded while her eyebrow wandered even further up. "Who is in charge this night? Forgot to check before we headed out." Stephen didn't have to think twice.

"Hamilton."

"And you want me to stay home when this imbecile of a cardiothoracic surgeon is unsupervised in my department? Your sense of humor definitely wasn't the thing I found so charming, that's for sure..."

She had already started to climb out of the comforting warmth of their shared bed, and instantly YN missed its soft embrace.

"Touché," the man scoffed while following her into the now brightly lit bathroom and watched her from the doorframe, where he leaned with his arms crossed over his chest. She seemed not doing all too well, but at least she could stand on both feet, so he talked himself into believing that everything would be just fine, even though if it meant for her standing in the OR for at least five hours. "You will drive back home after the surgery is done, do you understand me? No post-op check-up, no sneaking around me to dodge the inevitable, no rounds this morning, and no teaching lab with your little ducklings." Her, by the toothbrush muffled, Whatever was very audible for Stephen because he knew this woman better than himself. So he pushed himself off the doorframe and stepped right behind her; their eyes met through the mirror while his hands settled on top of her shoulders, where his thumbs started to massage the stiff muscles around the back of her neck. "I mean it, darling. You're not doing well, and I want you to relax and treat yourself to some hot soup and that fluffy blanket we got last week. Catch up on those shows, and I'm gonna try to get home early so I can prep you the perfect bath and cook you something nice."

He stopped for a second, but after no reaction on her behalf, Stephen bent his head to nibble at the side of her neck and found all her favorite spots before humming softly but raspy because he knew what his morning voice did to this woman. "I asked you a question, darling. Should I repeat myself for you?" Chuckling at the sight and feeling of her quick nod - the toothbrush rested pointlessly in the corner of her mouth - Stephen rested his lips just above her ear and watched her through the mirror again. "I asked," he started in his raspiest of morning voices, "if you understand me." Her deep sigh and mumbled "Okay, yes" sounded more like a tiny moan, and the doctor chuckled for another time before pressing a kiss to her temple and starting to brush his teeth as well; his arm closely wrapped around her waist and her body settling against his side, just as every morning they start together.

And just as every morning, Stephen couldn't get enough of their reflection together. Maybe he had to finally thank Christine for the hard work she had invested into playing matchmaker for them.

;

"Doctor LN!" The excited voice turned a bit hesitant as both arriving doctors turned around, and Jones had to face the embarrassment from earlier. "Doctor Strange, sir." And with that, the intern held two cups of to-go coffees in hand, stretching them out to his two supervisors. "I asked Doctor Palmer how you like your coffee, sir," he quickly spoke at the doubting look manifesting on Stephen's face, and YN rolled her still tired eyes. They stung a bit as well, as she now realized. "Deep breaths, Jones, he won't bite your head off." The man closely next to her scoffed before taking the first sip. "I wouldn't go this far as to promise things like that." YN hit him with her tablet but didn't wait for his reaction before turning her attention back to the intern while giving the labs of their GSW another once-over. She looked at Jones with a questioning expression after she had evaluated the patient's current constitution. They had worked so many hours together that she didn't even need to ask the question out loud. "Doctor Russel is preparing the anesthesia, and the team has prepped OR two, just the way you both prefer, Doctor LN, Doctor Strange."

Stephen had to raise both his eyebrows this time and had to admit that Jones wasn't a total catastrophe - he had to give him that at least.

YN nodded as they waited for the elevator to reach the operation room floor. As the doors opened to let them inside the metal coffin, as she loved to call this vicious transportation method, she gulped down the entirety of her coffee because she felt she needed every single drop of caffeine to withstand the upcoming hours of work. Her head had started to pound right after they had left the chic apartment Stephen and she called her own ever since they had finally moved together after three years of tedious dating, and it had gotten worse during the drive over here.

She hadn't told her over-worrying boyfriend a single word, of course. She would do this surgery, she would check up on some patients, and then - maybe - she would gift herself an early leave as a pre-Christmas kind of gift and get some good food on her way home. Perhaps she could start looking at those recipes she discovered while watching some stupid cooking show - which wasn't so stupid at all, seemingly.

Christmas dinner wouldn't cook itself after all, and she had promised Christine and her fiancé Marc that they could come over. Christmas was much more relaxed if there wasn't a family to celebrate it with.

But her confused thoughts, who chased themselves over the past couple of days since the first symptoms had begun, were interrupted abruptly as her throat acted up again. It started with a tingle, morphing into an annoying scratch before it would turn into a violent coughing fit. And it did, worse than ever. It got even worse after the first couple of nastily wet and deep-sounding coughs, and YN felt as if she couldn't get enough air into her overworking lungs. Her lungs constricted to relieve themselves of all the fluid which wasn't supposed to be in there, and every single breath burned like hell in her chest.

With one hand pressed against the elevator wall, the surgeon steadied herself, head buried in the crook of her arm, while cough after cough crept out of her throat and shook her entire body. Tears started to prickle in her stinging eyes, and the throbbing pain inside her skull increased tremendously within seconds.

Stephen was right at her side, one of his warm hands stroking over her entire back, up and down, while the familiar frown etched itself onto his forehead and in the space between his brows. Jones didn't know what to do, so he just stood there and hoped for a fast end of his favorite supervisor's misery. "Hey," the neurosurgeon mumbled softly as the coughing fit finally ceased, hand still rubbing over her back. "YN, listen," he began as the elevator stopped and the doors opened with a happy ding. “It’s nothing. Just a drop of coffee going in the wrong direction.” And with that, she pushed herself from the wall, fastened the grip around the tablet still in hand, and followed Jones, who himself had a worried expression on his face, but he didn't dare to say something. Especially not in front of Stephen Strange, who could end his barely started career right on this very spot. Instead, he took the personal belongings of both surgeons and nodded to the small changing room in this part of the hospital. "Your scrubs are already in there, straight from dry-cleaning. OR two will be fully prepped as soon as you're ready," he said before scurrying away.

Stephen watched his girlfriend with eagle eyes as he followed her into the changing room, and while she had already slipped out of her coat, he pushed the door close and just stood there. His eyes moved over her pale face - even more so than usual - and he noticed the constant frown engraved in her beautiful but tired-looking face. He even realized that she moved slower than normal, and everything took a tad longer. "YN...," he started again but was faced with a raised hand while she hurried to get into the dark blue scrubs.

The air condition in this part of the building was what she dreaded most since that cold had made its first appearance with a scratchy throat. Now all she wanted was to get back into that warm, thick coat she just had folded and wanted to wrap herself into the thick scarf Stephen had gotten her for Christmas two years ago, but all she got was thin blue scrubs and her comfy Nike sneakers.

"I am fine," she told him finally while popping another cough drop between her lips and starting to braid her hair. Stephen had, at last, made an effort to change as well, and YN was nothing but an admiring girlfriend again. She knew that sex was off the table until she got better, so she took what she could get very willingly, even if it were only tiny bread crumbs in the form of the sight of toned abs, biceps, and back. "Yeah... Wonder why that's so hard to believe after that coughing fit you threw in that elevator," he returned almost sourly, and YN understood it. She really did because she would be just as on edge as he was if it was Stephen who had gotten sick.

Sighing, the surgeon tied the end of her braid together before starting to secure it with bobby pins around her head. Stephen sighed as well and came over to her after lacing his sneakers and helped her just like every time they had the pleasure to operate together. He didn't say a single word, and YN let him sulk in silence for the time being. The Strange would soon open his mouth again because he wasn't the sulking-in-silent type of guy, and she was very thankful for this trade of his. How she hated to guess what wrong was and why the guy felt insulted. Stephen was surprisingly easy.

The entire world would question her sanity if they would ever hear her saying that out loud.

Upon entering the scrubbing area, she tied his recently preferred cap - she had gotten him that for his birthday because this man owned way too many ties - before he did the same for her. He pressed a soft kiss on her shoulder after his long and fast-working fingers were done and took the sink next to hers, where YN already had started to scrub in after putting on the face mask.

Stephen soon broke the silence, and again, she had been right: this man wasn't able to sulk on his own for long.

"As soon as your part is done, I want you to get an x-ray. I don't like the sound of that cough. You're happy that I don't have my stethoscope with me, otherwise, you wouldn't scrub in right now because I would hear something I really don't wanna hear, and I would send you straight up to Chamberlain." At the mention of the one cardiothoracic surgeon Stephen trusted most of the time, YN scrunched up her face. "I told you before, and I will tell you again, that I am fine. It's a nasty cold, nothing more. You're over-exaggerating." He stopped in the middle of scrubbing, head jerking in her direction. At this moment, she was glad that she only was able to see his eyes and the play of his eyebrows, but it was still as bad as she had anticipated. "Excuse me for worrying about my workaholic girlfriend who seemingly doesn't possess any kind of sense of self-preservation." Her eyes widened at that, and after rinsing off the soap residue on her arms, she threw the used bar of soap into the metal sink and turned to Stephen, arms raised so she wouldn't touch anything in the not sterile environment. "Look who's talking about lacking a sense of self-preservation. Do I have to remind you of that little episode of yours standing in a thirteen-hour surgery with a broken ankle? You're a fucking hypocrite, Stephen, and I am a grown woman who knows her boundaries very well, thank you very fucking much."

And with that, she passed him and entered the operation room, where the patient was already put under, and two of the residents prepared the last few instruments to their surgeon's liking. She instantly regretted every single word she had spoken out loud back in the scrubbing room and wanted to run back to apologize profusely, but she knew that she had to stand her point, even though it hurt her heart.

One of the nurses held open the light blue gown, and YN entered arms first before pushing her hands into the open-held gloves, sighing softly. Those steps were always almost meditative for her and her mind, always putting her at ease, no matter how severe the case was.

The OR was her safe place when other places weren't available - just like now because the safe place that Stephen represented wasn't available, not until the steam wore off and their sights weren't as red-tinted as they were now. Sometimes it was hard to love a person that was so similar to oneself, but YN had chosen, and she never regretted choosing Stephen as her partner in every moment that life offered her.

Stepping at the operating table, YN nodded in everyone's direction to greet them, and she pushed every thought about their little fight out of her mind. "Good morning, everybody. Long time no see, June." The OR nurse chuckled. "I thought we would get at least a day and a half before being back in here together." YN grinned behind her mask and softly shrugged. "Hope you had a good coffee because judging by those scans, we will be here for quite some time. Is your son at daycare? Do you need to go and call someone to pick him up later?"

Stephen had entered quietly - he preferred it that way, unlike his girlfriend - but watched her closely because it always left him speechless what a welcoming and open-hearted nature this woman had who had chosen to live with him. He still asked himself why she had decided that he was the one person worthy enough of her love and attention.

"He is upstairs at the emergency daycare, no worries, Doctor LN. We prepared a bottle of water for you, by the way. Doctor Jones said you could use a sip here and there." Nodding her head, YN stepped closer and opened her gloved hand. "Thanks, June. Ten blade, please."

Stephen had already started with the incision and worked through the brain's tissue while always having an eye on the cardiothoracic surgeon just a few feet further down to him.

;

Dabbing with a clean towel over the recently repaired aorta, YN slowly nodded, satisfied with her work. No one would suspect this artery was a shredded mess three hours ago. "Okay... Those stitches look good. Suction." The resident, Doctor Peterson, moved the tube slowly through the chest cavity. "Over here?" His question was unanswered for an unusual amount of time, so he looked up to see his supervisor's face. "Doctor LN?" Blinking, YN raised her head and watched Peterson before turning her attention back to the open chest in front of her. Her brain had difficulties following everything after standing for six hours straight. "Yes... Yes, sorry. Right over there."

Stephen had stopped working as the question arose and yet again watched the woman with eagle eyes.

She turned her head to cough softly into her mask while pressing her face against the sterile OR gown at her shoulder. Clearing her throat, YN nodded as one of the not scrubbed-in nurses raised the half-emptied water bottle and waited until one took off the light of her head, pulled down the mask, and finally put the straw right in front of her lips. YN's team was the best a surgeon could find, she was sure of that. "Thanks, Helen," she mumbled after everything was back at its place, and she stepped back at the table.

"What's happening next?" She asked Peterson now, her voice scratchier than ever, and her lungs started to protest again. Taking a deep breath - well, as deep as it was possible with a lower lung capacity - YN tried to shake off that strange feeling as if her head was wrapped in cotton and as if she couldn't get enough air into her lungs and much-needed oxygen into her bloodstream. "We will follow the aorta up to the left ventricle, check the three branches - brachiocephalic artery, left common carotid artery, and the left subclavian artery - before taking him off the cardiopulmonary bypa-... Doctor YN? Are you alright?"

She barely could understand his words, but the sound of the scalpel hitting the ground next to her right foot was all-consuming. YN didn't even realize that it had fallen out of her strangely numb fingers at which she stared now, unmoving. Everything seemed so far gone in front of her eyes, especially as the room started to spin around her.

"YN? YN, talk to me. What is wrong?"

Stephen. His voice was as calm as ever, but she couldn't push herself to move her head and look into his handsome face. Everything was spinning too much.

"I... I don't feel so well..."

It was barely a whisper, and if the operation room weren't deadly silent, except for the monitors and the oxygenator, no one would've understood it. But Stephen's mind switched focus between the open brain in front of him and his girlfriend only two feet away. The constant switch was as smooth as it had always been, even though his brain screamed to stop working and to rush over to her. But he couldn't let go, not with the DeBakey forceps in this man's brain and near the last splinter of the broken bullet. Instead, his hand didn't move a single inch while he raised his gaze to stare over at YN.

"Keep on talking, darling. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

He needed to keep her conscious, and it always helped when he was calm and asked her questions she could easily answer. Just as he would do during one of her anxiety or panic attacks. He could see her blinking slowly, almost in slow-motion while her brain tried to keep up with his words, even though it would love to just blink out.

"Chest's hurting. My head... Everything's spinning. I... Stephen..."

And with that, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she collapsed onto the sterile floor. He could hear instruments clattering on the floor, and Stephen didn't want to think about the possibility that her head had hit the instrument's tray.

"YN?!"

"Doctor LN!"

"Oh gosh, Doctor LN?"

"Get her some oxygen, god damn it!"

Suddenly, pure chaos dominated the operation room, and Stephen worked as fast as he could while shouting questions.

"Could somebody talk to me?!" He needed to know if she was okay. "Somebody needs to say something, or this entire room gets fired!" Stephen didn't care if he sounded like a maniac. "85/50. It's a wonder she held up for this long. Open wound at her right forehead, probably needs stitching. Doctor LN? YN, can you hear me?" The sound of snapping fingers was heard, but no answer. One of the nurses looked back at him, kneeing on the ground next to YN. "We'll bring her upstairs, Doctor Strange." He quickly looked up, straight into the nurse's face. "Make an x-ray of her lungs, a head CT to clear her of a concussion, and don't you dare let anyone other than Henderson stitch that. Page Doctor Palmer, she will see through with everything. And someone needs to page Chamberlain; we still have an open chest here." Shuffling was heard before the anesthesiologist spoke up right next to him. "Hamilton is on duty, sir," he reminded the neurosurgeon, but Stephen scoffed while slowly grabbing the bullet with the forceps. "I don't care if that accident of a surgeon is the fucking president of the United States. Get. Me. Chamberlain." YN would decapitate him with her bare hands if she learned about the fact that Hamilton had ruined hours of her hard, perfect work.

And with that, he returned to his job, mind still a bit out of tune with an unconscious YN being put on a gurney and pushed out of the room only several feet away from him.

He had never felt more helpless in his life.

Do your job, and you can look after her. Do your job, and you can sit next to her and wait for her to wake up. Everything will be okay, Stephen. Stop spiraling.

;

The familiar sounds of the hospital surrounded him, but Stephen almost didn't hear them, not since he had gotten the x-ray scans of YN's lungs and the CT of her head. His eyes were practically glued to the tablet screen in his hands, forearms resting on his knees and supporting the weight of his upper body. He couldn't sit straight anymore, nor could he stand, not since they had been left alone in the room YN now occupied in the cardiothoracic unit.

It had taken a long time until he got some peace and quietness minus the beeping sounds of the machines hooked up to his girlfriend because she always had been admired and loved by her colleagues. Everyone had wanted to come by and leave little cards full of Get well soon. If flowers were allowed, the room would probably be filled with them by now.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Stephen scanned the images of the CT another time - he had stopped counting an hour ago - and as all the times before that, he stared at the mild concussion caused by the metal table full of surgical instruments and the hit on the floor right after that. He had scheduled a second CT in about an hour because he had to be sure there wasn't any bleeding, as minor as it could be. He couldn't allow himself to miss it - it would not only end her career, but it could steal the love of his life right from under his eyes in the worst case.

And Stephen always measured in worst-case scenarios if it involved his girlfriend.

A nurse entered the room silently to replace the drip of antibiotics her body would've needed days ago, but better late than never, he guessed. He didn't acknowledge his presence at all - he wasn't in the mood for small talk or reassurances - so he left after checking his supervisor's vitals, and they were alone again.

Typing on the glass screen, the neurosurgeon made sure that the second head CT was indeed booked, even thinking about changing it to a CT with contrast indication, but Christine would probably kill him if she saw how he spiraled and put the tablet on the bedside table. Everything will be alright, he told himself, his hands rubbing over his face and through his now messy hair.

He just had rested his face in the palm of his hands as the sound of movements under the blanket pushed Stephen to look up again. A hoarse groan followed close, and instantly, the man raised from the chair and sat on the edge of the comfortable bed. His eyes took her face in, scanned it for any indication of a stroke everyone had missed out on, and gently held the hand who wasn't hooked up to the drip and heart monitor. Finally, YN's eyes opened slowly, and she blinked; another groan escaped her at the blinding light.

"YN," Stephen almost whispered and scooted a bit closer. A soft but questioning "Hm" was all he got for now, and his heart started to race in his chest; every stimulant responsible for the emotions of fear and panic distributed into his bloodstream, and his usually barely rising anxiety had its peak season with all the adrenaline rushing through is body. He couldn't think straight when it came to her. Never. So he started to caress her face with the tips of his fingers - starting right above her brow, down over her temples, and over her cheeks because he knew that it almost always tickled her, and she would scrunch up her nose. She did exactly that, but only barely noticeable. "YN, I need you to focus, darling. Can you squeeze my hands?" Stephen already held both her hands, and she squeezed them; softly at first, but with every passing second, her grip became tighter. "Okay. Good job, love. Can you feel this?" Stephen's hand had slipped under the blanket to stroke his fingertips over the soles of her feet, and her toes wiggled at the ticklish feeling.

A cough shook her body again before YN could open her mouth. "Could you please stop tickling a barely awake woman? That's socially considered as rude as fuck," her hoarse voice whispered, and Stephen instantly took her hand between his and pressed it against his still rapidly beating heart. "YN." Seemingly, his brain had lost its capacity because Stephen could only mumble her name. Relief rushed through him and counterattacked the adrenaline.

The woman opened her eyes, blinking, to look up at him. "Yeah, s'still my name." Her head throbbed, and she didn't want to know what had happened after her brain had decided to quit his job entirely. "Stop freaking out, Stephen, I'm alright." She tenderly squeezed one of his hands and had to sneeze as she realized the feeling of oxygen tickling the insides of her nose. "Y'all really went all out on me." Amusement was evident in her small voice, but Stephen couldn't laugh about it - and probably would never do.

"You scared the hell out of me, YNN."

Suddenly, she turned serious and beckoned him closer. The tired man obliged but wasn't prepared for her pulling his head onto her chest, but he didn't mind. It had always been his most favorite spot in the world. He felt safe. And cherished. And loved. YN's fingers carded through his hair, which just started to turn grey at his temples, but differently to him, she didn't want him to dye it, so he didn't get the at-home dye while getting the groceries last week.

It was strange what he would do for this woman. But at the same time, it wasn't, especially with the thought about that black velvety box hidden in his locker lingering in the back of his mind.

"I'm sorry, love," she whispered into his soft strands and kissed his head. "Wasn't my intention, really. Thought I'd be strong enough. Strong enough for my patient and strong enough for you." Now, he had to prop himself up on his arm to stare incredulously at the woman he loved more than anything. "I am sorry, but what?" YN shrugged and felt pitiful. "Y'know, you're this incredible man and surgeon, always perfect, always giving his entire being for his patients, and I need to keep up with that, so you won't leave me because you'd find a better, more perfect woman, and-..." He interrupted her nonsense by starting to pepper kisses over her face, except her lips. They didn't need another pneumonia in just a week or two. "Wherever those thoughts came from, you can send them back there, darling. Okay?" Slowly, YN nodded and closed her eyes with a sigh as Stephen pressed a lingering kiss to her still warm forehead.

"Can you show me the scans?"

He stayed close to her as his hand grabbed the tablet and opened her file. Stephen watched her as her eyes darted over every lab they had run, every x-ray image (which looked even worse than she had anticipated, but she couldn't change that anymore), and at last, she scanned the CT. "There is probably a second one coming, am I right?" He shrugged while she softly laughed under her breath and let the tablet sink onto the thickest blanket this hospital owned. "How long will you keep me locked away at our place, Doctor?" The Strange was still propped up on his arms, as close to her as possible without crashing her with his weight or putting too much pressure on her already hard-working lungs, and hummed, deep in thought. "With that much fluid and inflammation in your lungs and larynx? Not to mention the concussion?"

She rolled her eyes. "Please, it's a baby concussion."

Stephen cocked an eyebrow. "Ah, so now you're the world's best neurosurgeon?"

"Don't flatter yourself." She rolled her eyes. "That title can earn anyone, even you." YN hit his shoulder playfully, and a small grin tucked at her lips. An unbelieving but humored "Hmpf" escaped the surgeon before he turned serious again. "Back to the topic at hand. Until you're discharged, you will do whatever the staff is saying. You won't discharge yourself or medicate yourself." YN had already opened her mouth to say something, but Stephen only had to shake his head in one direction, and she closed it again. "Don't try to talk me out of it because I know you, YN LN." Now it was her turn to "Hmpf" in annoyance. "Anyway. After you're discharged, you will stay at home, catch up on all of your movies and shows, bake to your heart's desire, and recover. I don't have to tell you what pneumonia does to your lungs in the long run. You will have to strengthen them again, and that's exactly what you're gonna do, darling. Looking after yourself and taking care of your health and body because I need you a few more years longer."

A loving smile settled upon her tired face, and YN tenderly caressed his cheek with her knuckles. "So... You won't get tired of me just yet?" Stephen chuckled before pressing a kiss into the palm of her hand. "I am not quite sure if that's even a possibility, darling," he returned and kissed her palm a second and a third time, his mind always wandering back to his locker and the box he intended to show her on Christmas Eve because it was one of her favorite days of the entire year. Now, he would have to postpone everything he had planned.

It may be a small throwback, but it would still be perfect.

A soft knock at the doorframe moved the couple to look over and see a smiling Christine standing there. "Sleeping Beauty is awake and obviously fine, perfect. He drove me crazy in the last couple of hours." Stephen rose from his comfortable position and turned his head to his friend. "I wasn't that bad," he tried to defend himself, but now it was YN who scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that, love." Then, looking at Christine, she continued: "He went all neurosurgeon-mode because I didn't jump on the bed right after the first blink. Thought my brain would be mush, and I'd be a lost cause." He never stood a chance against these two women, always calling him out and letting him face his flaws - which he never liked much.

"Whatever," he mumbled at the chuckle of his friend before turning back to the redhead. "Is the CT ready?" Christine nodded in approval, and right after that, a nurse pushed a wheelchair into the room.

With the most neutral expression on her face, which looked kind of pissed, YN changed looks with both doctors.

"I'm not gonna sit in that thing."

–

She arrived at the CT in said thing.

;

She felt soft pecks of even softer lips on her face, and she woke up to that feeling. Yawning, YN blinked up, and both arms fought a way out of the fluffy blanket cocoon she had wrapped herself into to circle them around Stephen's neck.

Ever since her discharge two weeks ago, she had been a good patient, an excellent one, to be quite honest. She never overdid it, always respecting the new boundaries her still recovering lungs had set for her and always listening to the doctors. Well, more like listening to Stephen because he was the one doctor she trusted the most.

"You're early again," the woman mumbled against the skin of his neck, where her face was securely tucked away, and YN could feel his lips on her skin once again. "I told you how this would go. Do my promises mean so little to you?" Grinning, she shrugged and let him sit her up on the comfortable couch she fell asleep on while watching a random news channel.

Apparently, the Avengers were back in the city, and YN desperately hoped she didn't need to drive detours on end just because they thought it would be a great idea to stroll around town, so idiotic humans could form crowds at the glimpse of one of them.

Shaking her head, the woman pushed her fingers through his hair that had acquired a few more grey patches, which she secretly admired every day. "It's just that I know you, Stephen, and I know your workaholic tendencies are just as bad as mine." YN kissed the cold tip of his nose and accepted the cup of tea he had grabbed from the coffee table. "Did you take your meds?" She nodded proudly. "Yup. And the throbbing is finally gone without an Advil." That concussion had been a constant pain in her ass.

Stephen smiled one of his satisfied smiles and kissed her forehead while standing up again. "Well, with that out of the way..." He scooped her up into his arms, and YN squealed-laughing the entire way into the open kitchen, where the Strange sat her on top of the kitchen island. The delicious smell of her favorite food and restaurant wafted through the air, and she took a deep breath without feeling the urge to cough her lungs out. "You seriously drove through the entire city to get me Don Angie's?"

Usually, the expensive Italian restaurant located in Greenwich Village didn't do take-out, but for a selected group of people - people with the right numbers on their checks - they tend to loosen their rules. But well, this very household had a reservation minimum once a month, so they probably were already considered family.

Stephen smiled at the joy he brought into his girlfriend's eyes and started to unpack the containers full of food and dessert. "For you, darling? Always." Scooting over the marble countertop, YN grabbed Stephen's wrist to pull him between her sweatpants-clad legs - his sweatpants, to be precise - and cupped his handsome face with both hands. Her nose softly brushed against his, and Stephen sighed, letting his eyes fall shut and leaning his forehead against hers. "Can I marry you? Will you marry me?" Her question was nothing but a soft whisper, and he had to tear open his eyes to stare into her face, with that knowing smile he almost dreaded to see in such a context. "You really thought it would be a great idea to hide it here when I have almost the whole day to myself?"

He seriously didn't think about that before he took the black velvety box out of his locker because he only had thought about the practicability of it staying at their apartment. He wouldn't have to drive to the hospital to get it if he would've decided to propose to YN spontaneously. And now, he had ruined the surprise with his own hands.

Great.

Scrunching up his face, Stephen groaned and let his forehead sink back against hers as he felt both of her hands carding through his hair again, trying to soothe him. "I didn't open it if that takes something off that disappointment, love," YN whispered and kissed the corner of his mouth. "You didn't?" He had to be sure that at least something of that surprise was still viable. Her head shake was answer enough, and he took a deep breath. "Well, it wasn't a total surprise, now, was it? I think the direction this relationship took off after we moved in together was almost painfully clear or is it just me?"

Maybe it was all in his head, and YN never had the intention to settle down with him, being the smartest couple in medicine, maybe starting a family, growing old together. Maybe it was all just his silly little idea, but never hers.

YN sighed softly at the look on his face, and she could almost feel his spiraling thoughts running havoc inside his overthinking mind. That's why she took his chin between her fingers and forced him to open his eyes again. "It's not only in your head, Stephen. It never was. We may have never talked about it in detail, but the allusion was always there. Our conversation about looking for something more... comfortable, less statement? I would have never brought up the topic of this-", she pointed from her to him, "-wouldn't be a one-way ticket for me. And it is a one-way ticket because I don't need a return ticket. Kids, pets, a life just with the two of us - I don't care as long as you're in it, Stephen Vincent Strange."

He needed to blink in order to keep those foolish tears at bay. Instead, he dove for a deep kiss, so full of love, respect, and adoration that it almost blew his mind.

"You’ll get a proper proposal, darling," he promised, lips still connected and words muffled by it, but YN understood him clear as day. "I hope so because you're the overachiever in this relationship and need to outdo Marc." Grinning at the thought of Stephen's future victorious smile, she kissed him again before squinting over to the food. "I love your kisses, but I'm hungry. Could we do dessert first? On the couch? I'd love some cuddles after five long hours without my personal doctor to fulfill every single of my needs and wishes." One last time, Stephen bent down to kiss her before opening the containers with almost every dessert on the menu and her strolling back to the couch to make space for him between all the pillows and blankets.

"I am not your butler."

But he shouted the words with a smile on his face and one thought on his mind: Life could never turn to the worst with her in it.

Thank you so much for reading! As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated <3

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