Everything changed the day Amira was born.
The world outside was collapsing — bombs, dust, screams, and fear. Yet inside a small room, by the dim light of a single candle, a new life began.
While others were running for shelter, I was holding my newborn daughter, trembling, crying, trying to believe that something so pure could still exist in a place like Gaza.
I named her Amira, because I wanted her to feel like a child of life —not a child of war.
A year has passed since that night, but nothing has really changed
Our house is still rubble, our streets still carry the smell of smoke, and the sky still echoes with sounds that make Amira flinch in her sleep.
She has just turned one.
She’s learning to walk, holding my finger with her tiny hand, laughing at the smallest things — as if she doesn’t see the destruction around her.
She doesn’t know the word “loss.”
She never met her father, but when she smiles, I see him there.
Sometimes I watch her sleeping, and I wonder what kind of world she will grow up in — whether she will ever know what peace feels like, what home smells like.
And yet, when she opens her eyes in the morning and says “mama,” everything becomes bearable again.
I want to rebuild our home.
Not just for the walls — but for her future.
For Amira to have a small room, a safe place to dream, a life that belongs to her, not to war.
I’m not asking for much. Only for a chance to give her a beginning filled with warmth instead of fear
My name is Saja. I am a mother, a wife, and just one of many women in Gaza trying to hold on — to hope, to my family, and to a life that no
A Mother’s Message
To everyone reading this — thank you for listening to our story.
Your kindness means more than words.
Every share, every message, every donation — it all helps me rebuild not just a house, but a future for Amira.
From the heart of Gaza, from a mother learning to hope again —
we will live. And I will make sure my daughter grows up in a world that knows love more than war.
The situation is very dangerous. My children’s lives are in danger. Their skin is melting and peeling from diseases. There are no medical points or doctors to treat them. There is no food available for them. Israel is killing us. Please do not help it with that, but rather help me. I have nothing left but my children. After I lost my family, my home, and everything I have, I have no hope left but you. Imagine that you In my place. Please, with a heavy heart, I ask for your support
I am Maryam, the mother of three children, the youngest of whom was born during a time of… Alicia Augusto needs your support for Save Maryam
cillian proposes moving back to ireland when he realises his children have developed posh english accents
word count: 1,787
content: lots of fluff and emotions
chapter warnings: a bit of smut, very tender moments between family, domestic cillian, lots of dialogues between characters
masterlist click here ☆
english is not my first language, so forgive me if there are spelling mistakes
London held fond memories for Cillian. It was in London that he started his career at the age of 23, where he met people who gave him advice on how to get on in life and it was in London that he proposed to his wife and then married her in Ireland. In theory London was an important part of his life, but now he was beginning to miss the Irish culture, he missed the tranquillity of his hometown and he was a little tired of the hectic life he led in England, but what bothered him most lately was that his two children were developing a posh British accent.
Cillian has been paying attention these days to how his eldest son Cian pronounced the most obvious words like: water, mother and can't with a British accent. He was not disappointed with his son, but with himself. He had made the decision to move to London for work, you agreed, yes, but he proposed the move when his children were only 5 and 2 years old.
He took his children away from Irish culture for 7 years, and they barely returned to his country because of his work. An anguish grows in his chest as he realises how far he has been from his family and his country these past few years. And he begins to wonder if you missed your family, if you ever wanted to go back but didn't tell him because you wanted the best for him.
You look at Cillian who has a blank stare, he almost always has that look but this one is different from the others, it's a look full of longing. You bring a hand to his freckled cheek and caress it, but even your affection doesn't bring him out of the cloud he's in. "Cillian" you shout but nothing, so you try again and this time he does listen to you, focusing his gaze on you, "Are you alright?" you ask.
He sighs and settles back on the back of the bed: "Have you noticed how our children talk?"
"What do you mean?"
Cillian shrugs, "Their accents sound so... so British"
"Well I guess that's to be expected, it's been almost 8 years living in London. Of course they'd adapt to the accent," you reply.
"I don't like it. They should have an Irish accent, they were born in Ireland" He thinks to himself, the reason you had moved to London was because of the filming of Peaky Blinders, a project he had finished a year ago. "Maybe... um, we should go back to Ireland?" Cillian sees your worried face and tries to improve his words: "Think, love. We moved here for my work, there's no need to be here anymore, besides our kids deserve to grow up with their family, and I'm pretty sure you miss Ireland as much as I do."
You analyse what he has told you, yes, it is true, you miss Ireland and you miss your family too, you were always very close to them and when you moved to another country it was a very difficult change for you. And now you are worried that the same thing will happen to your eldest son, you doubted that he would like such an abrupt change in his life: "Well, suppose I agree to go back, what will happen to our children? I'm sure Cian will hate moving to Ireland, he's in his teens and thinks the whole world is against him."
"God, I know, but trust me, he'll forget all about London in the first few weeks he's in Cork and the younger one I'm sure will be thrilled with the idea of moving because he hates the city, he lives dreaming of nature, mountains and lakes." Cillian shifts his stance to get closer to you and grabs your leg to hook it around his waist, getting completely attached to your body. "Besides, we'll buy a nice house in the country, just like you've always wanted," he lowers his face and starts kissing down your neck and then your jaw. "Imagine a quiet life, close to our family, and our children will no longer have British accents," you laugh as he kisses you.
You grab your husband's jaw to pull him away from your face, "OK. You finished convincing me when you named that house in the country."
Cillian kisses his wife again and settles on top of her and begins to remove her nightgown, leaving her naked underneath him, "So we're going to Ireland again?" He asks her with bated breath, starting to move down her body until he gets close to her most intimate area carefully removing the panties that cover this area.
You spread your legs wider, exposing what your husband wanted from you. "Yes, we're moving to Ireland," you say, and within seconds you feel Cillian lick your slit with his tongue, causing a moan to escape your mouth.
"Have you gone mad?! Move to Ireland?! No! I don't agree with this!" Cian shouts angrily at you and Cillian, "I've got all my friends here!"
"Cian, calm down. You don't need to shout. It's a decision that's already made, me and your mother want you to grow up in your home country, with your culture and your family. We're moving at the end of the year." Cillian tries to speak calmly to his eldest son.
Cian rises from the couch with clenched fists and tear-filled eyes, glaring angrily at his parents "I'm not moving anywhere!". He strides away from the living room to lock himself in his room with a slamming of the door so loud it could break the window panes.
You sigh and look at your husband who is in a state of shock at his son's reaction "I told you so" you say.
"I don't mind that we are moving to Ireland, I can finally have a big garden!" Your other youngest son Eoin gives his opinion. You smile, at least one of them is happy about your decision.
"I know, sweetheart. But your brother doesn't think like you do," He shakes his head not understanding why his brother is so angry. You look back at Cillian and touch his shoulder, "I think you should talk to him, he never listens to me."
Cillian nods and stands to start walking towards his eldest son's room, when he arrives he knocks on the door several times but no one answers, "Cian we need to talk, can I come in?", several seconds pass governed by silence. He turns to leave, respecting his son's privacy but it is then that he hears his voice on the other side, giving him permission to enter. Cillian opens the door and the first image he sees is of his son with his arms crossed, lying on his bed, staring at the wall in front of him and it is impossible for him not to notice all the tears on his cheeks. "Hey, I know it's hard for you this change" He sits on the bed and touches Cian's leg, trying somehow to give him sympathy, "I know what all those changes feel like, being afraid to start a new life in an unfamiliar city, feeling lost or excluded from the culture of that country because you're seeing all that for the first time. I know because I lived it," Cian looks at his father in surprise, "I moved to London when I was only 23 years old, I was terrified like a rabbit in a wild jungle. I left my friends and families behind and I was scared that I wouldn't fit in in my new home, but you know what, it was all extremely easy and it will be for you too when we move to Ireland. You will have your mum and me for whatever you need, you won't have to do everything on your own"
Cian lets the last tear fall and wipes his soaked face with his hands: "Will everything really be easy, will I make friends quickly and be able to adapt?
Cillian smiles at him: "I promise, and if it's not what we expected we'll come back here.
His eldest son's eyes widened at his words, "You would do that? But you and Mum want to live in Ireland."
"We care more about your welfare."
Cian lets out the air in his lungs and nods, "Fine. I hope I like Ireland.
"You'll love it, and believe me you'll never want to set foot in this city again when you see how beautiful our country is."
Tonight is a perfect evening: a glass of wine in your hand, your children asleep in their respective beds and your husband choosing the music to set the mood.
He turns around and approaches you with a slight smile on his face, he snatches the cup from your hand leaving it on the coffee table, you were going to protest but when he grabs you by the waist and sticks your body to his you understand his intentions. You put your arms around his neck and start to slow dance around the living room, there was no need to talk, this was what you both had wanted for a long time, and this house in the country gave you the tranquility you needed so much.
Cillian leans his head against yours and closes his eyes, he couldn't be more grateful for the life he has with you. After two years in Ireland, his sons loved living in Cork. Cian made new friends within a few months and Eoin was going to botany classes and every corner of the huge house garden was growing a flower or vegetable. You, on the other hand, had your own studio where you could write your novels in peace and quiet, and he had his too, full of guitars, books and CDs. This change of life favored everyone in his family and he couldn't have been happier with the results.
"You know? I'm glad our kids don't have British accents anymore after two years here, I thought for a moment they would have that accent forever" Cillian breaks the silence and you laugh into his chest and pull away from it to look at him.
"I can't believe you wanted to move out of London just because our kids had British accents."
Cillian shakes his head and tries to lie to you, "I didn't do it just for that, also because it was important for them to grow up in Ireland with their family" he says laughing.
"Yeah, sure" you bring your lips to his, kissing your husband who definitely doesn't like the British accent.
@badlywritten-stuff2 ,"i am a sucker for spiderman reader w the turtles so i was hit w a potentially galaxy brain (and. shippy.) idea; the reader and leo are about to have like, a spiderman-esqe kiss where the reader is hanging upside down on their web with only half their face showing (you know the scene-- that's ROMANCE baby!) maybe it's a little farther down the line, in terms of their relationship and it's crept into less platonic and more 'i like you' vibes but still very much leo doesnt know our beloved spidey's identity. then the boyz show up and they're all like "YALL WAS GONNA KISS??" and leo and spidey are like "NUH UH" or something idk! have fun with it i just got the sillies. thank you! i hope youre doing well!"
◌ S,p = Spider Persona ◌
~xXx~
The air felt chill across green pebbled skin, a light rain cascading down from the sky and creating a beautiful wash of colors of the city scape for Leo to gaze upon. Despite being a stickler for always staying together, especially when in the world above his home, the mutant turtle felt he exceptionally needed this moment of peace. Away from the loud bustle of his brothers, away from the grueling training he’d tunnel vision himself into in moments like these, and away from the heavy expectations of being not only the eldest but the leader put upon him.
With a heavy breath through his nose and eyes shut closed, the terrapin in blue had not noticed the quiet pitter patter of feet behind him.
“Looks like someone finally learned to get out and have some fun for once.”
Leonardo nearly jumped out of his shell, but was quick to recover and turned with a glare that quickly dissipated at realizing who his uninvited guest was.
“(S,p), what are you doing here?”, he questioned, trying his best to stop the small flutter in his chest.
Sitting on the ledge of the door that led to the roof they both now occupied, the eyes of the friendly neighborhood (S,p) motioned in a way of how one would quirk a brow.
“Uhm, fighting crime. What are you doing out here? Thought Raph was the one to go soloing about.”
Leo looked down to the city streets below, his face scrunching up at being reminded of one of his latest stressors.
“Nothing, I. . .I just needed some air.”
(S,p) frowned at this. The hunched form, stiff shoulders, and shadows beneath gorgeous blue eyes were only a few tell tales of what Leo was currently going through.
“Hey. . .”
Leo watched as (S,p) hoped down from their perch, walking only a few steps before sitting down on the edge beside him. A gentle hand had come to rest on Leo’s forearm, and even through the miraculous suit they wore, he could still feel the comforting heat of their touch.
“Remember what we talked about?”, (S,p) questioned, looking up into Leo’s cerulean(?) eyes, that of which shyly wished to look away but held firm.
“You can’t keep things bottled up, Leo. It’ll weigh you down till it suffocates you.”
Swallowing a tightness in his throat, said terrapin could no longer hold his best friends gaze, and instead focused on the smaller hand still rested upon him.
“I know. I’m still just not used to this kind of thing.”, he admitted, a dusting across his chilled cheeks in the New York night.
For a brief moment, he wondered if you were cold as well, and could not help the feeling of concern at you becoming sick for being out in such weather trying to comfort him. Though, he knew any attempt at dissuading you would be futile. The more time you and the four brothers had spent together, the closer you and honorable terrapin had grown, no way was he going to get rid of you that easily. Your gentle caringness you were about to display proving as such.
“That’s okay. That’s why I promised to always be here when you needed and were ready.”, you beamingly reminded, taking your other hand to gently cup Leo’s face and direct his focus back to you.
The flutter felt earlier returned once more to Leonardo’s chest, his wrapped hand reaching up to gently lay over the hand that still caressed his face.
How had he become so lucky to meet someone like you? He knew not of your true identity, but Leo still fully believed he could trust you with his life and vice versa. Maybe it was because you were not so normal yourself, but whatever the case may be, you never treated Leo like a freak. Not only that, but you saw more of him then some cold hardass leader. You saw past the wall he built, the façade he wore as his duty placed upon him at such a young age. It wasn’t that Leo disliked being a leader, but it hadn’t been easy on him and he very much felt alone at times. Yet, when you had stumbled into their lives, it was like a ray of sun came to cast out the rays of his lonely mind. You had always cared for him, and you still continued to do so, as he found himself doing for you as well.
There was no one he felt closer to in his whole life but you.
“So, do you feel up for talking? Or do you just wanna hang for a while?”, you quietly asked, tucking one of Leo’s mask tails aside.
With a warming smile, Leo stood, taking your hand he still held and pulling you up gently as well.
“I think I’d just like to hang, if you’re not too busy kicking bad guy butt.”
You giggled, a melody like sound to Leo’s ears as he watched you walk back to the place you once sat perched upon.
“For you? Never busy! I know this cute little roof top café we can hit up. It’s got a little private area the owner set aside for me to take breaks at. Won’t have to worry at all about any surprises.”
Watching you jump up to the higher roof ledge, Leo thought about your proposition. Sitting in a cozy area with calming night rain in New Yorker city, enjoying a nice warm cup of coffee with the one person who could light up a whole room? What could be better?
“That sounds really nice actually. They have any pastries?”, Leo asked, getting ready to follow you up.
“As a matter of fact, they do! Oooh, their honey rolls are just ab-shit!”
Leonardo's heart spiked as he saw you suddenly slip on the wet surface above, and with quick reflexes he lurched forward, ready to catch you in his arms. Unfortunately, your own reflexes had kicked in just in time for you to web your self to the dryer, bottom portion of the ledge, leaving you effectively upside down. Combining both of your quick movements, neither Leo or you had time to stop the momentum of your faces colliding together. Despite being masked, there was no doubt in either of your minds the connection you each felt upon one another's lips. As quick as it had happened it was just as quickly over; Leo stepped back faster than lightning and his face lighting up as red as his brothers mask. As for you, your whole body felt it’s only electricity, spidey senses going awry from the incident.
“I-I’m so sorry!! I was just trying to catch you and-“
“N-no, I should apologize! I’m the one who slipped!”
The air grew thick with silence, as neither you or Leo looked at the other, hearts still racing and emotions on the high end. You were still buzzing, a new feeling you had never felt before coursing through you. It was your spidey sense, that you knew, but it hadn’t been the same as every other time you’ve experienced it. It was warm, soothing, elating, like taking a nap cozied up in bed with the window open to allow for a nice spring breeze.
Taking a chance, you glanced over at Leo, the later still looking to the ground. Not aware of the eyes upon him, Leo slowly had reached up to touch his own lips, a glimmer in his eyes that had not gone unnoticed by you. The sight sent a flutter of your own though your chest, as you thought back on all the special moments that you both had shared.
Almost similarly to Leo, you had felt alone for so long. A hero with abilities never heard of before and no one to learn from. Navigating a new world and taking on responsibilities and hardships you’d never asked for. When you met the ninja turtles though, and found yourself in an ever growing friendship with Leonardo, you suddenly found yourself almost not ever remembering what loneliness felt like.
“Hey, Leo?”
Said terrapin was quick to look your way, feeling the shyness of your gaze as you called for him.
“Yeah?”
“Do you uhm. . .”
Your voice fell to a mumble, your characteristic bravado suddenly gone. Leo chanced stepping forward, and once sure that you were comfortable with him moving into your space he continued closer.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
Leo felt a new nervousness within him. You both knew it was an accident, but dear god, did you hate him now? Was this going to change things for the worse? The thought of your friendship dwindling caused an ache in Leo’s heart as he worriedly waited for you to repeat yourself. However, the next words you’d speak would be the complete opposite of the turmoil within his mind.
“I-I said. . .do you want to try that again?”
Leo gulped, his eyes behind his blue mask widening.
“What? Kiss?!”
“Yeah.”
“Uhm, but your mask. Are you sure your okay with?”, Leo gestured to his own face, knowing how important your identiy was to you.
You simply nodded, gaze just as soft as the handsome one now mere inches from you.
“You can pull it down part way.”
“Are you sure?”, Leo asked once more, half lidded stare looking into the eyes of your mask, that of which he swore for but a brief second he saw (e,c) orbs.
“Yeah, I trust you.”
That was all that Leonardo needed to hear, his heart now feeling like it would explode just by your simple, but powerful statement. Ever so gently he peeled down your mask, mind a flutter at finally seeing some hint of your true self. This whole action and moment had been elating for you as well, a thrill in your heart at feeling the brush of Leo's hands across your bare skin.
With the ambiance of falling rain, glowing lights of ranging hues, and the warmth of the others breath, the kiss Leo was about to share with you, would be a cherished memory for a life time and more.
“Hey, guy’s! I found him!”
Never had you pulled your mask up so quickly, and never had Leonardo let out such a roaring groan. Foot falls came to a halt as Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo hopped onto the roof top you both occupied.
“What the hell, man?! We’ve been tryin’ to reach you all night!”, Raph glowered throwing his hands up as his brother in blue sent him the sharpest of glares.
“There’s been a Foot Clan robbery, and NYPD needs back up.”, Donnie hurriedly spoke, too focused on one of his gadgets to take notice of the same death glare sent his way.
Ultimately, it was Mikey who had come to read the room, going to give you an excited greeting when he took notice of the bashful look displayed on your mask, Leo’s deep scowl, and the close proximity between you both. The biggest, toothiest of smiles breached the youngest face, but Leo had no time to stop him from speaking out.
“Yooo!! Were you two about to do what I think you were about to do?!”
Raphael and Donnie confusedly looked to Mikey, Leo furiously making motions to get Mikey to shut up.
“What are you talking about, Mikey?”, Raph spat, not in the mood for his antics.
“Oh you knooow~ Leo and (s,p), sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
Realization smacked both Raph and Donnie in the face at that moment as they quickly looked between you both, each’s expression brimming with surprise.
“Wait, seriously?! Is that why you weren’t answering your phone?!, Donnie gawked while adjusting his glasses.
“So, like. . .with mask or no mask?”, Raph questioned with a shit eating grin.
Another heavy groan reverberated from Leonardo as his brother huddled together to begin their collective teasing. How was he going to survive this? Cheeks hot with embarrassment as his brother laughed and continued to banter from a distance, Leo turned to apologize to you, only to find you suddenly absent. Leo felt a sudden sadness at your disappearance, but a ping to his phone caught his attention. A text notification, above the many missed calls from his siblings, caught his eyes.
“Meet you dorks at the robbery! Coffee after? Or will you be too busy dying from your brothers torment? ; )”
Leo let out a breathy chuckle, and with a warm grin and even warmer heart, sent a message in return.
I was wondering if you could make a social media fic of reader being nolan's daughter and being a physicist and she has been married to cillian for a long time and has like 3 or 4 kids and she is very shy but helped in the theoratical part of the movie.
Also she gave lessons to the cast and florence developed a little(huge) crush on her and every cast member talks and jokes about it.
Sorry for the long request
With lots of love
family | cillian murphy
love this request!! also I’m going to make up the names for the kids because in this imagine, y/n and cillian will not have instagram
liked by florencepugh, tomhardy and 23,467 other
alexdandriamurphynolan the past months with them ❤️
murphyfamlove when your only source of y/n nolan and cillian murphy content is through their 17 year old daughter
tomhardy ❤️🔥❤️🔥
celebupdates y/n in the fourth pic omg she looks so beautiful, alexandria you look just like her
cilliansmurphys cillian’s gene’s didn’t even try with their first born alexandria is her mother’s twin
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Managed to write you a short little one. Loved this idea. I am a sucker for Tommy wanting comfort.
Seventeen Days
Pairing - Thomas Shelby and Reader
Thank you for the support. Please interact and let me know your thoughts. x
Tommy lay on his back, looking up at the high ceiling of his Arrow house mansion. He guessed it must be about 6am, by the light drifting in through the curtains. The left one wasn't fully closed, it had been bothering him for hours.
Why hadn't he just got up and closed it? Another thing, he had been overthinking...
Sleep was never going to come now. It was pointless, trying to even close his eyes again. With his arm resting on his forehead. He ran his thumb across his brow. Feeling the bed shift slightly, his eyes drifted to the left.
There you were ... his love...His one and only.
At least you had slept, hadn't let your mind take over. Not like him. Hearing you mumble something incoherently, he found himself smiling. Seventeen days... that's all it was now. Seventeen days... and ... five hours.
Until you became his wife. Officially.
He was counting down, unknown to you. He marked every day off, in his office diary. It couldn't come soon enough. And then, you would be joint as one. Forever.
Watching you roll yourself over, your hair tickled his arm. Turning with you, he hooked his arm around your waist. "Closer baby," he whispered against your ear lobe. His warm breath, making your skin tingle. Like he always did.
“Come closer….”
Scooting back to spoon him further, you rubbed your head against his shoulder. "I am close, Tommy,"
Tucking his left arm underneath you, his right arm pulled you ever closer. Your bodies moulding into one. “That's better, ey. I need you close to me,"
Enjoying his embrace, you let him hold you tighter. Just the two of you in the whole world. And soon... you would become Mrs Shelby.
hellooo, i hope you’re doing well! would you want to write a fic where at some point aaron steals readers gum out of her mouth? this is such a random thought and i’m so sorry if this sounds weird (now that i’ve written it down and not only thought about it, it seems very weird, sorry!!!!!!), but i kind of feel like this is something he’d do when making out lol and it obviously catches her off guard the first time he does it 😁
according to plan
omg i'm putting a jealous!aaron take on this 🤭 cw; suggestiveness, established relationship, bau!reader, detective being a creep, heavy on the kissing, possessive/jealous!aaron 🦋
aaron's just about had it.
it started out as lingering stares, beginning at your face before sweeping all along your form. next, the insistent eagerness to partner up with you. and now the detective, who's name wasn't worth remembering, was at your backside, itching to get as close to you as he possibly could. any closer, he would have you pressed against the bulletin board in front of the two of you.
you were politely trying to explain the physical, common characteristics between the victims, how unsubs sometimes had a specific type and that's why they chose to acquire them. naturally he had asked you the most stupid, simplest question; just another excuse to speak to you.
all day, aaron had been silently seething, a mere bystander. but as he joined and saw the sight before him, his fists clenched so tightly his fingernails were digging into the palms of his hands. enough was enough.
"do you understand now?" you naively asked, a pleased expression forming on your face when the detective nodded in confirmation. unlike aaron, you had been unaware of his ongoing actions.
"is there any way i can repay you?" he questioned smoothly, his eyes yet again dropping. this time, the attentiveness is drawn to your lips.
"no," you shake your head, your focus already directed on readjusting one of the displayed photos, the gum in your mouth producing a pop. "i'm just glad i could be of some assistance."
it's a bad habit of yours, snapping your gum too loudly. it's hard to not notice it. but fortunately, the brought focus is about to work completely in aaron's favor.
aaron calls your name, tipping his head to the side as a signal for you to come. you abide, leaving the detective right where he is and as a result, he subtly glares at aaron for interrupting his time with you and his advances. aaron steps aside to let you pass, and as soon as you do, he shoots daggers right back.
truthfully, he's extremely lucky that's all aaron did.
you follow him to one of the empty interrogation rooms, a small trek away from everyone else. once inside, aaron swiftly shuts the door behind you.
"what's-"
aaron's lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence, causing you to gasp slightly in surprise, throwing your arms around his neck and instantly kissing him back.
it's all too easy to submit to aaron, allowing him to guide you and push you back against the door. he crowds you against it, his breath hot and heavy in your mouth, his hands exploring every curve of your body and more. every inch of you, is consumed by him.
the kiss is heated, desperate, and in the back of your mind, you distantly wonder why the suddenness - what has gotten into him? but with the pure vigor he's kissing you with, your brain had gone fuzzy; you were too consumed by the kiss to dwell on the potential reason why, or did you care.
aaron's large hands slide down your back, landing on and promptly squeezing your ass - hard. you gasp again, and aaron uses the sudden part of your lips to push his tongue into your mouth, sliding against your own. he can taste it - the flavor of your gum - and it only encourages him further, deepening the kiss.
you can't help let out a small moan, which aaron immediately swallows up from you, mindful of your volume within the current setting. your fingers find the nape of his neck, weaving and gripping onto his hair tight.
the kiss itself is wet and sloppy - all according to plan. and once the mint flavor fully invades his mouth, aaron forces himself to pull away.
and before it becomes impossible not to.
your eyes are wide as you look up at him. your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss. you let out a breathless laugh, chest heaving up and down. "wow. i..."
you trail off, your tone leading into more or less a question. aaron leans in once more, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your lips this time. "just missed you."
you take instant note of the slight, new shift of his jaw, which prompts you to realize something from your mouth is missing.
you gape at him, jaw dropping a bit in astonishment. "wait, did you take my gum?"
aaron's way of a response is opening the door, a small nudge of his head gesturing for you to exit. "after you."
you give him a confused look, yet your eyes are still dark and lined with arousal, before heading back to the others. a deep exhale leaves you as you walk away, an attempt to cool down before facing anyone else.
this time, when the detective's stare returns to you both, aaron's the one loudly snapping the gum.
Pairing:: Rip Wheeler x Reader
Warnings:: swearing, mentions of smut, otherwise floofy fluff
Gif not mine, credit to the owner
Rolling over in his bed, I tangle myself in the blankets. My eyes open and I realize I'm alone. I rub my face, move onto my back, and stare at the ceiling. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes.
Last night was the most amazing night of my life. It was romantic and forbidden and exhilarating.
After weeks of flirting in secret, Rip finally coerced me to go to his cabin. He laid a blanket out in the grass under the stars. I laid on my back, looking up at the stars. He rested on his side, propped up and looking at me. Laughing at his stories, I turned, gazing up at him. He was more interesting than the stars anyway.
He ran the back of his hand over my cheek slowly as he stared down at me. He rolled over, cupping my cheek as he leaned down to kiss me. I reached up, wrapping my arm around his shoulders.
He picked me up and carried me into his house and into his bed. I didn't notice it before, but Rip is a gentle giant. He set me down slowly and kissed me with just enough force that I wanted more. He made sure I got as much pleasure as he did. He hovered over me, either staring into my eyes the whole time or kissing me sweetly.
I fell asleep in his arms as he whispered quietly to me and kissed my forehead and stroked my hair. My head rested on his shoulder as I stared up at him. He was so warm as I squeezed against him. I never wanted to leave.
I slip out of bed, my toes jumping at the cold floor. I pull Rip's dresser drawer open and take out a pair of his boxers to put on. I grab one of his copious black button-ups and pull it over my shoulders. I'm swimming in the fabric.
Stepping into the hallway, I brush my hair off my face. I round the corner and see Rip sitting at the table, drinking his coffee. "Good morning," he smiles, standing up and walking over to me. "How'd you sleep?"
"Good," I hum as he guides me into a kiss. His hand slides down my back slowly, pulling me into him ever so gently. "I didn't expect you to still be here."
"Where else would I be?" he asks with a smile. He reaches up, fixing my hair as he brushes it off my face.
"I don't know, work?" I chuckle. He laughs, shaking his head. Stepping away from me, he keeps laughing. "What's so funny?" I ask, following him.
"You think I'd miss an opportunity to see you?" he smiles as he pours a cup of coffee. "Two sugars?" I nod over to him, watching him meticulously. "Here you go, honey." He holds the mug out to me and I step forward to take it from him.
"Thanks," I smile, taking it from him. I take a sip and hum at the taste. Shrugging my shoulders, I pull it closer to my chest. "What's your plan for today?"
"Whatever the boss tells me," he grins, making me laugh. Pulling a chair out for me, he says, "Take a seat." I sit down and he kisses my cheek. "How do you like your eggs?" he asks, walking over to the stove.
"Sunny side up," I say, spinning to look at him. "You're really making me breakfast?"
"Yeah," he nods, picking up an egg. "Why? Do you not want breakfast?"
"No, I do," I smile. "That's just...really, really sweet. No one's done that for me before."
"Really? They're fucking assholes then." I laugh at him as he cracks the egg into the pan with a sizzle. "Can I tell you something?"
"I don't think I like the sound of that," I chuckle.
"It's nothing bad," he sighs, shaking his head. He stops talking, focusing on the food in the frying pan. Once it's down, he puts the egg on the plate with two pieces of toast and bacon. "I really like...this..."
"Cooking for me?" I ask as he sets the plate in front of me.
He laughs, sitting down beside me. "No, not only that. Just...last night and waking up with you in my bed and you being here. It's nice."
"I like it too," I smile, reaching for his hand. "I don't really want to go to work today and have this end." I look down at the table.
"You can always come back," he says. "We can do this again." I look up at him and see him smiling down at me. "I mean, I'd like to do this again."
"Yeah, me too," I smile. "I'd like that a lot." He keeps holding my hand as I start to eat. Chewing on the bacon, I chuckle, "Plus, you cook." He laughs, smiling from ear to ear.
I finish eating and Rip clears my place. I walk back to the bedroom to get ready for the day. At this point, I don't have time to go home before work. I get dressed and hear Rip's stomping feet walk down the hall.
The smile on my face grows wide when I see him. No one has ever made me feel like the way he does. We slept together once and I feel like he's the love of my life. He made me breakfast and I feel like I could marry him. Rip Wheeler is not a one-nightstand kind of guy in my mind and neither am I.
I pull my jeans over my legs as he steps closer to me. Guiding me into a kiss, he slides his hand down the small of my back, making me giggle. He leans away from me, looking me up and down.
"Are you going to wear my shirt?" he asks, thumbing over the black fabric in my hand.
"If that's alright with you," I chuckle.
He helps me slide it over my arms. "Yeah, of course," he smirks. "Looks better on you anyways." He slowly buttons it. I stare up at him as he concentrates on them. He looks so cute when he's focused. "There you go," he smiles, kissing me again.
"Thank you," I say, looking up at him. I run my fingers into his hair before pulling him back to my lips by the back of his head. Stepping away from him, I grab my boots and pull them on. "Come on, baby, let's get to work."
"Yes, ma'am," he nods. He leads the way out of the house and grabs his hat and hands me mine. "You think Mr. Dutton is going to find out?"
"Please don't call him that. He's my dad, not the president," I groan. "Plus, I don't give a shit. Kayce turned down the job and I took it. So he knows I'm hanging out with you lot more." I reach out, grabbing his hand.
"Well, I think John would want to know why you're wearing my shirt, don't you think?" he chuckles.
"I won't tell if you won't," I smirk.
"I won't," he smiles, kissing me.
I laugh, pushing him away. "Go get Jimmy to feed these horses and tell the wranglers to get out here," I chuckle as I smile at him.
"Yes, ma'am." He steals one more kiss and starts walking over to the bunkhouse. I've never been so happy to be on the Yellowstone in my entire life.
pairing: Rip Wheeler x female!Dutton
warnings: minor Yellowstone spoilers ahead (Lee's death, season five things), mentions of grief and death, Rip being a grinch
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Note: Merry Christmas to all! :)
“Why do I have to dress up?” Rip asked for probably the thousandth time since you pulled out the red santa suit, beard and hat.
“Because it’s Evelyn’s first Christmas and I want her to take a picture with Santa Clause,” You said, curling your hair in the mirror. It was Christmas Eve and your sister had invited the whole family to the house for dinner, drinks and gifts. It was yours and Rip's first Christmas as parents and you wanted it to be perfect. Evelyn was only seven months old so she wouldn’t be able to know if anything went wrong or not, but you would know.
“And your dad or Kayce can’t but on the ridiculous-”
“No! It has to be you!” You sighed, putting down the hot iron, “Evelyn won’t sit on my dads or Kayce’s lap. You saw how she acted when we took her to see Santa at the coffee shop.”
“Well he was a bit-” Rip shut up when you gave him a glare through the reflection of the mirror. He knew better than to argue with a Dutton woman, it was one sure way to get a fist to the face. Rip opened his mouth to say something just as Evelyn let out a cry, “We’ll discuss later.”
You smiled to yourself as you finished getting ready for the Christmas party. When you walked downstairs your heart warmed in your chest seeing Rip holding Evelyn and looking at the ornaments on the tree. She had his big brown eyes and dark curls, you were amazed how much hair she had at such a young age. She was really her father’s twin, there was no mistaking who she belonged to.
It was also amazing to see how quickly Rip took on the role of being a father. He had his reservations about it, he was young when his mother died and his father was a monster. It kept him up at night thinking about the type of parent he would be. Would he be mean like his old man? Would his child grow up to hate him? To be afraid of him? For those nine months you were carrying Evelyn, Rip read every single parenting book he could get his hands on. He asked Kayce and John for advice. None of it really made sense to him, but then he saw his babygirl for the first time, and it did. Rip was an amazing dad.
“Momma is staring at us again,” Rip whispered to Evelyn and kissed her cheek. She giggled at the feeling of his beard on her soft little cheek, “You ready? It’s cold out, and I don’t want her to sweat in the car seat and then go outside. That’s how kids get sick.”
“I am ready,” You nodded, “I just gotta get the baby bag, the gift for Dad and Beth, and the cookies for Tate.”
“All of that is in the car and it’s running,” Rip said.
“What would I do without you?” You asked with a smile on your face. You leaned up on your tiptoes and kissed his lips, “Can you put her in the car seat? I’ll grab the Santa suit.”
Rip rolled his eyes as you skipped back down the hall towards the bedroom, “Your mom is crazy,” He whispered to Evelyn and the little girl turned to face her father, showing him a gummy smile. Rip smiled at his daughter, kissing her cheek again and then going to put her in her car seat.
The Dutton house was decorated from floor to ceiling for Christmas, which was probably Beth’s doing. She may lie to your face and say she hates kids, but she would do anything to make her niece and nephew smile. Christmas also made her happy, despite what she says, it was the one time of year where all the Dutton siblings seemed to put their bullshit aside for a couple hours. Rip parked as close to the door as he could get, he didn’t want to carry Evelyn that far in the cold weather.
“You can put the Santa suit on after dinner,” You said as you walked up the path towards the front door, “While we’re cleaning up and setting up gifts, it will be perfect.” You opened the front door, and walked into the warm smelling house.
“Yeah,” Rip said as he walked in behind you.
“Aunt Y/N, you’re here!” Tate yelled running up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Hey bud,” You kissed the top of his head, “Have you grown again?”
“Probably,” Kayce said, and greeted you with a quick kiss on your head, “Wakes up five inches taller than the night before. Where’s the little one?”
“Rip’s got her,” You said and nodded your head over to the living room where Rip was taking Evelyn out of her car seat, Monica waiting for her chance at baby snuggles, “How is she?”
“Better,” Kayce sighed, “I think having Evelyn on Wednesdays helps. She might have gone a tad overboard with the gifts for her, but it’s her first Christmas.”
“If you think Monica has spoiled her, wait until you see what Beth has put under the tree,” Your dad said, also giving you a kiss on the head in greeting, “Gator is ready to serve dinner.”
“Sounds good, daddy,” You said and then walked over to your husband, who was watching Monica hold his daughter. Monica was slowly looking better since the loss of her son John. It was actually her that asked if she could babysit Evelyn for you while you were spending time going back to work for your dad’s new role as governor. It was nice to see her smile again.
“Dad wants us at the table,” You said to them.
“Thanks Y/N,” Monica said, and handed you your daughter, “She looks like she’s feeling better.”
“She is. Thank you very much for those tips,” You smiled at the woman before she walked off to go find her own family.
Gator probably spent the whole day working on the Christmas dinner for the Duttons. The table was stocked full of ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, all the fixings. John sat at the head of the table like he usually did, you and Beth on either side of him. Rip sat next to you, and Tate on the other side of him. Kayce sat on the other end, with Monica on his left. There usually was one more person at the table, but Jamie had turned down Beth’s (not so nice) invite. John had dug around in the basement for the high chair that they’ve had since you were a baby to put Evelyn in. She sat between you and John.
“So, Tate,” Beth said, taking a sip of her wine and looking up at you with a glint in her eye. She knew of your plan to get Rip into the Santa costume and hopefully telling Tate outloud will help seal the deal, “I hear Santa is coming by.”
“He’s not real,” Tate answered and Rip looked at you with a shit eating grin, “I’m not five anymore.”
“See, he’s not five, and Evelyn is too-”
“You are putting on the damn Santa outfit,” You harshly whispered to him, “If I have to stuff you in it myself, you’re putting it on.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Rip challenged and you glared at him. Kayce watched as the small stare down between you and Rip was broken up by Evelyn throwing a piece of bread on the floor. He could see that the whole Santa thing was somewhat bothering you, he knew you well enough to know how much Christmas means to you. You only got to spend one Christmas with your mother before her death, and you cherished the family moments like this.
“Act surprised when he gets here,” Kayce whispered to his son, “For Evelyn.”
“Why?” Tate asked, “She’s just a baby.”
“Because it means alot to Aunt Y/N,” Kayce said and then cleared his throat, “She only had one Christmas with our mom, and it meant a lot to her. The only pictures she really has are of her, Santa and our mom.”
Tate looked down at his food, and then up at his dad. In his short life, he had gone through a lot, and had witnessed loss at first hand. He looked over at his aunt who excused herself from the table to take care of his younger cousin. He thought to himself that there would’ve been two babies at Christmas, but instead, there’s just one.
Tate nodded, “Okay. I will, I promise.” Kayce smiled at his son and patted his shoulder.
When everyone's bellies were full, the family retired to the living room, where they started opening gifts from the large pile underneath the Christmas tree. You sat on the floor with Evelyn on your lap, helping her tear into the packages that Tate was handing her. She was having more fun sticking the wrapping paper in her mouth than trying to open the gifts. Both Beth and Monica had their phones out making sure to take pictures to capture the moments. The men all sat back with drinks in their hands, talking about cattle and giving the occasional “oh that’s cool” when it was needed.
“Tate, why don’t you help Evelyn open the gifts from us,” Monica and moved down on the floor next to the kids.
“I noticed you don’t have the Santa costume on,” You whispered to Rip.
“There’s no need to put the ridiculous suit on,” Rip said, sipping his whisky, “She’s not going to remember it.” You clenched your jaw as you looked at the ground, “She’s a baby. It can wait until-”
“It can’t wait!” You yelled and the eyes of your family members looked at you. You sucked in a breath to compose yourself and stood up from the floor, “I’m sorry. It’s just. . . its tradition.”
“Y/N,” Rip called out to you, trying to grab your hand as you walked away from the living room. He sighed and ran a hand over his beard.
“She believed in Santa until she was about fourteen,” John said, “Might’ve been partially my fault. I paid Paul Adler to dress up as Santa and come to the house. I guess it was my way of holding on to the things my Evelyn used to do.” John looked at the last family portrait that was sitting on the mantel above the fireplace. It was taken on Christmas eve of 1996. You were in your mothers arm with Lee looking over her shoulder at you. You were the closest with Lee growing up, and his death affected you much harder than anyone else.
“I never realized how much it meant,” Rip answered, “I just thought it was something silly that she wanted to do for the kids.”
“Everything that girl does has meaning to it. She just doesn’t do things ‘just because’. You’ll learn that soon enough.”
Rip nodded and then stood up from the couch, going down the hall after you. Monica smiled at her father-in-law. They hadn’t ever had a close relationship, John saw Monica as the woman who was going to take his son away from him, but they had bonded over the horrible shared grief between them. John looked at Monica, and the woman handed her his granddaughter.
“C’mere, Evie,” John said, lifting the baby from Monica’s arms, “How about you open this?” He grabbed the small box from the side table and helped the little one open it. It was her very first pair of cowboy boots, “Every girl needs a pair of boots.” He kissed her forehead and helped her put them on her feet.
You were laying on your childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling where there were once glow in the dark stars that Lee helped you put up. Your father was livid and worried that they would pull the paint off the ceiling, but Lee assured him that it wouldn’t. The next person in this house who loved the Christmas traditions besides you was Lee. He would stay up late with you to wrap presents as you would write in fancy handwriting ‘To who, from Santa.” When you were younger, he would be the one to eat the cookies, and leave “snowy” (which was actually flour) footprints by the fireplace as if good Ol’ Saint Nick had actually come down the chimney to leave gifts. One time, he even brought a horse up from the barn to leave “reindeer” prints in the fresh snow (however, you knew a horse track when you saw one).
You thought that overtime, the grief of losing your mother and brother would slowly start to subside, but it seemed as if this Christmas, it had come back in full blast. Maybe it was because you were a mother now, and you knew how fragile life could be and change with a snap of a finger.
“Baby?” You heard Rip’s voice before you saw him. You just sighed, and listened as his heavy boots walked over to you, “I’m sorry about the Santa stuff.”
“My dad tell you I believed in Santa until I was thirteen.”
“He said fourteen.”
“He’s a fucking liar. Jamie told me on my thirteenth birthday that I can’t believe Santa was real anymore,” You said and sat up from your bed, “I should be apologizing to you.”
“For what?” Rip asked, and sat next to you on the bed.
“I know the holidays aren’t your thing,” You said and grabbed his hand. Your nervous habit was playing with his hands, “And I shouldn’t have pushed you so much into doing it.”
Rip smiled sadly at you, and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it, “The holidays are my thing because they are your thing. They make you happy, and anything that makes you happy makes me happy. Besides, Evelyn seems to love it.”
You giggled and shook your head, moving closer to your husband. He wrapped his strong arms around you, “You’re right, Evelyn won’t remember this. She’s spending more time shoving wrapping paper in her mouth than knowing what's going on.”
“But we will remember,” Rip said and kissed your cheek, “We will remember Evelyn’s first Christmas and that’s what matters.”
“Thank you,” You said, looking up at him.
“For what, baby? I nearly ruined this shit.”
“For giving me the best Christmas present ever,” You smiled up at him. He caressed your face and then placed a kiss on your lips. You hummed into the kiss, and ran your fingers through his brown curls. He moved you in his lap, so you were straddling him, and he laid back against the bed. His hands roamed your body, going down to your hips. Your tongues moved against one another, you being able to taste the whiskey on his tongue.
A knock on the door startled you both as you lifted your head up to see Beth standing in the doorway, “Oh don’t stop on my account,” She had a smirk on her face and you rolled your eyes, “But there’s someone here to see you.”
You furrowed your eyebrows and climbed off of Rip and your bed. You walked down towards the living room and stopped in your tracks seeing,
“Santa?”
“Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” Santa said, standing in the middle of your living room. You looked at your sister and Rip.
“I made a call,” Beth smiled, and you threw your arms around her, hugging her tightly, “Oh-”
“Thank you, Bethy,” You said and then went towards your child who was back in Monica’s arms. Rip looked a bit confused as he watched you place Evelyn in Santa’s arms. He looked around the living room spotting Kayce, John, and Gator all standing around.
“Who did-” Rip asked Beth but then he heard Santa speak again, “Lloyd?”
Beth shrugged, “He owed me a favor.”
Rip shook his head, and then walked towards his family. Beth let out a breath in relief as she watched her family gather around to talk to “Santa”. Evelyn surprisingly didn’t cry when she was set on Santa’s lap, probably because she was too distracted by all the movement around her.
“Get together you three,” Monica said, grabbing your phone from you, “I’ll take a picture.”
“Rip, sit on the other side of Santa’s lap,” You said and he gave you a deadpanned look, “It’s for the memories, sweetheart.”
“Only for you, honey,” Rip gave you a fake smile as he carefully sat on Lloyd’s other knee.
“Don’t break me bossman,” Lloyd said and Rip also gave him a glare, “It’s for the kid, don’t be a grinch! Smile!”
“Call me a grinch again and I’ll have you scrapping shit-”
“Okay, smile!” Monica said, “1. . . 2. . . 3!”
You, Rip and “Santa” smiled at the camera as Evelyn was still looking up amazed at Santa. You took her from Santa’s lap and looked at the pictures Monica took.
“They’re perfect!” You cheered, “Thank you so much, Santa.”
“No problem! Ho, ho, ho!” Santa said and Beth led him out the front door.
Rip put his arm around your shoulders, “You know what they say about Mistletoe.”
You looked up above your head to see the green twig hanging above you. You smiled and grabbed Rip’s face, bringing him down to you for a kiss, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Wheeler.”
@the-morning-star-falls requests. A Rip wheeler imagine where there is a massive thunderstorm over the ranch in the night and his girl sneaks out of the bunkhouse to stay with him.
Thunder roars off in the distance as I ride my boyfriend Rip’s horse. Wearing some torn blue jeans, a red flannel with ankle boots and a dark brown cowgirl hat on my head. The wind blowing hard messes up my loose hair while watching the Bunkhouse cowboys settle the cattle and horses inside their pins. A loud clash of thunder roars on the house making me pull Rip’s jacket tightly around myself as protection. Dang storm! I’ve hated thunderstorms since I was a child. The storm would always rattle the wood of this old wooden house. I’d never grown out of the faze, still being the youngest Dutton. Beth and Jamie tried to help, but it didn’t work. Kayce, is the only person who can besides...Rip.
Climbing under the warm covers I shriek hearing another loud rumble. Heavy rain mix’s in with the bright lightning strikes. Squinting my eyes close tightly I wish Kayce was here in the house. But sadly he’d returned to the ranch late last night, saying the only thing he had left was to give Tate this ranch someday. Meaning he’s sleeping in the Bunkhouse with the other branded cowboys. Rip and I had become closer after he left to marry Monica and become a navy seal, dad didn’t like him keeping the baby. Now though I don’t think he could imagine not having Tate as his grandson. More booms of lightning and thunder go off as I shiver in fear. I can’t do this anymore!
Tossing my covers off I throw on my red coat, my boots and my cowgirl hat. Shuffling quickly through the house looking out the front door I see the rain’s not as hard so I burst out the door. The rain started picking up as lightning strikes a field by the horse fence, causing me to stumble into a run to Rip’s house. He had his own separate place beside the Bunkhouse. Reaching the door I bang on it harshly as the thunderstorm sounds grow bigger.
The wooden door open for me to see a half-awake Rip in his sleep clothes. “Y/n?”
He tugs me inside out of the cold rain before I cling to his embrace when four large bangs hit the ranch. “R-Rip!” I shivered into his shirt. He slowly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to his warm comfort once closing the door to keep the warmth inside the house.
“Shh baby, I’ve got you.” He whispers in my hair, gently running his fingers through my messy hair. Barely pulling apart he removed my hat hanging it up with my wet coat, suggesting holding my hand in his free one. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”
He pulled back the covers allowing me in first. I hug my legs to my chest whimpering in the noise of the storm. Rip claims in the bed, laying the covers over us before pulling my head into his chest whispering softly. “I’m here darlin’. I’m right here.”
Turning on my other side so I can face him I weakly smile at my boyfriend. Kayce and him are the only ones who wouldn’t be furious I woke them up early in the morning...well besides dad in addition. “Thank you, baby.”
“Call me that again.” He breathed out when I shift closer to his warmth feeling the house shake a little. “What, Rip?”
He intertwines our freehands together with a slight smile on his lips. “Baby.” Rip was never one to show any other face except his serious one around the cowboys, but I got to see all the other sides of him.
“I love you, baby.” I smile bright kissing him gently hearing the roar of the storm in the background but not being fazed anymore.
Rip kisses me for a minute settling under the covers more as our eyes fall heavily closed for sleep. “I love you too, Y/n Dutton.”
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