#i’m too exhausted to even stand at the stove and cook but i’ll try

[goldensunset]

ugh how long do i have to sleep how many fluids must i consume how warm and cozy do i have to be to unsick the sick

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #5

CH5. Wake 'n' Bake | The Menu [4.9K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

“Well, you don’t know what we can find. Why don’t you come with me, little girl? On a magic carpet ride.”

The diner was quiet and the radio was louder than usual, lilting through the kitchen and between the empty tables. It was a too hot Sunday, with most of the usual clientele swapping leather booths for loungers by the community pool. Only Mr Creel sat in his usual stool by the bar, parked perfectly underneath the TV screen that was playing the same old western movie that came on every day at three o’clock. Jonathan was manning the counter, pouring the old man refills when he grumbled, whistling as he went. 

Everyone else had either gone home earlier or was preparing for the night shift that started at eight that evening. The diner was too hot, the old AC barely keeping up, blowing out a whisper of cool air that you and Jonathan had taken turns standing under, watching the glass door for any signs of life out on the street. 

None came. 

So you’d long taken off your apron and after some internal arguing with yourself, you had plucked up the courage to push the doors to the kitchen open. There wasn’t much happening there either. Eddie was the only chef in, clock watching until there was a customer to feed or for when Argyle would arrive to take over the next shift. 

And now? Well, now you think you were just annoying him. But he was allowing it, and that was something. 

“And what’s that?” You asked for the fourth time. 

You were hunkered down on the stool you’d dragged over to Eddie’s station, elbows on the stainless steel and your cheeks squished between your hands as you watched the boy work. He’d told you and Jonathan he’d made some lunch, and after some back and forth (Eddie argued enough until Jonathan gave in), Eddie was making some ramen. 

“It’s gochujang,” Eddie mumbled back. He was too busy concentrating as he tapped a teaspoon of the red paste into the pot on the stove. He was more relaxed than you’d seen him, with no big orders to cook, he’d been humming along to the radio, his curls knotted on the top of his head to keep himself cool. He’d merely smiled when you plopped yourself down at his table. “And if you ask me what something is again, m’gonna put you in this pot too.”

You didn’t take offence, not anymore. You scrunched your face at him. “Mean,” you said. “When’s it ready? It smells real good.”

“Soon. And I’m not mean,” he grumbled back, tossing some ramen noodles into the pot that had been ready to overspill with bubbles. “You’re annoying.”

You gasped, all faux dramatics. “And he’s rude too,” you told no one. You grinned when Eddie rolled his eyes and shook his head, but when he bent over to chop up some spring onion at a scarily fast speed, you saw him smile. “Can I do anything?”

“You could get us some drinks,” Eddie suggested and he peered out of the hatch at the empty tables. Mr Creel glared back. “Seeing as you know, you’re not doing anything. At all.”

You huffed but there was a laugh under it that Eddie was beginning to recognise. He raised his brows at you as you let your sneakers slap onto the floor, hands pushed to the worktop as if getting up was an awfully exhausting thing. “I suppose I could manage that,” you told him wistfully. “If you’ll cope without my help for five minutes.”

Eddie snorted, stirring a delicious smelling broth he had simmering in another pot. He levelled you with a stare that a month ago, would’ve made your stomach churn with nerves. “I’ll try,” he played along. “I’ll tell Jim it was your fault if the kitchen burns down though.”

“Snitch. Coke?” You asked him as you made your way to the door. 

“Just the one line, sweetheart, I’m driving,” Eddie smirked back. 

He had an adorable habit of letting his head tilt to the side when he joked with you, as rare as it sometimes could still be. Dimples in both cheeks, stray curls over those big eyes, thick lashes that he liked to bat at you when he thought he was being real funny. It was becoming a problem. 

“You’re hilarious,” you told him flatly from the other side of the hatch, shooting some soda from the gun into a glass for him. “Jonathan, coke?” You called to the other boy from across the diner, holding up an empty glass for him too. 

“Shhh!” Mr Creel hissed at you, teeth bared, brows furrowed and you grimaced back, a smile that wasn’t customer service worthy but you’d long learnt to stay away from him. 

“God, stop annoying the customers,” Eddie told you when you came back in holding two pints of coke, he was grinning as he ladled your lunch into a big blue bowl, letting his eyes settle on you as you passed him his drink. 

“Don’t tell Jim,” you joked, but the humour in your voice fell flat as you watched Eddie bring the glass to his lips and gulp the fizz down. 

His neck bobbed as he swallowed, chin tilting up and back as he led his eyes flutter close and you could help but stare at the line of his jaw, the up and down of his Adam’s apple, the push of his lips against the cup. Your mouth felt dry, your head a little empty and when he opened his eyes and put the empty glass down, you were still staring. 

“What?” Eddie was staring back. 

You shook your head, words unable to form. You stuttered and stammered and shrugged your shoulders, gripping tightly to your own glass. “Nothing,” you finally managed. “What?”

“What?” Eddie squinted at you. 

“What?” You asked again, before you could help yourself and you realised too late that you’d asked him a question there wasn’t even an answer to. “Shit.”

The corner of the boy’s mouth lifted and he looked at you, amused, if not a little concerned. “Okay,” he drawled, sliding your lunch over to you. “Here, eat. Lack of good food must be makin’ you loopy or somethin’, christ.”

So you ate in silence, sitting across from Eddie and exchanging shy smiles as he watched you hum at each flavour, nodding at Jonathan when he slapped him on the back in thanks, taking his own bowl outside so he could smoke at the same time. It was a new kind of friendship that still made you nervous, too aware when Eddie looked at you - like, really looked at you. Eyes earnerst, watching, gauging what you liked and what you didn’t. He knew that a scrunch of your nose meant you were unsure, a little taptaptap of your feet on the stool meant you loved it. 

He still made you shy, even though you spoke more. Stomach dipping and somersaulting when he called your name out of the hatch, some kind of plate made up for you, grouching good naturedly about how you needed to stop skipping meals. It made your heart jolt when he got too close, when fingers brushed as he passed you a bowl of fruit, a sandwich you could inhale between serving tables. 

But then again, maybe that wasn’t nerves. Maybe that was just the crush you were telling yourself you didn’t have. 

It was becoming harder to lie. 

“Good?” Eddie asked like always, letting his foot kick gently against yours. He’d finished his own bowl and was watching you with a fond look on his face as you wrestled with the last few noodles. 

You nodded and hummed happily, “mhmm. Could’ve done with some more salt though.”

Eddie did a double take, lips parted to argue because he knew that broth was damn perfect, before he realised you were joking. He narrowed his eyes at your grin, tried to hide his own smile when you laughed. 

“Oh, she’s actin’ real cute today, huh?” He snarked but everything about him told you he thought you were hilarious. He took your empty bowl from you, poked at your shoulder with a chopstick. “The self proclaimed crybaby s’gettin’ bold.”

It was a meaner type of teasing that you’d grown used to, but still, you wrinkled your nose at the boy as your cheeks burned, head ducking down at the memories of your teary eyed encounters with certain customers. You heard Eddie laugh as he dumped the bowls in the sink, but it wasn’t a cruel sound at all. And when you lifted your chin back up from your chest, he was back on the other side of the work station, elbows on the stainless steel and leaning over to you. Close. Closer than before. 

You blinked and Eddie smiled, a lazy, knowing thing, his eyes darting over your face like he was able to read you. Maybe he could. “There she is,” he murmured softly. “Shy thing.”

“Oh my god,” you tried to joke weakly, your voice a soft, embarrassed drawl. “Stop.”

It made Eddie laugh, a wide grin pushing at his cheeks until the dimples you rarely got to see appeared. You wanted to push a finger to one, to see if the tip of it would fit perfectly into the dip. You sat on your hands instead. 

“What?” The boy asked. “She’s got no jokes now?” But he smiled a little softer and went back to preparing the dough for tomorrow’s rolls, not saying anything else when you leaned back over the counter to watch. If you’d looked up, taken your eyes off the way his big hands kneaded at the sticky mess, you’d have caught the boy watching you, still smiling. Awfully fond. 

—————

“Hey,” you interrupted a while later, once Robin had arrived to take over you shift, once Argyle was throwing some burgers on the grill for the customers that had finally shown up. “What’re you doing tonight?”

 Eddie looked a little startled as he closed over his locker, chef whites in a bundle in his bag, ready for washing. He blinked at you, pretty, pouted lips parted as he wondered where this conversation would lead. “Uhh, I- I dunno. Probably gonna go home, roll a joint and wait for another day in this shithole to start. Why?”

You wondered if Eddie could hear your heartbeat. ‘Cause it echoed in your ears, inside your head. A thud that made your mouth feel a little dry and suddenly the bravery you’d felt when asking that question melted away with the boy’s gaze on you. You weren’t sure what you’d planned to ask. Maybe if he knew of any good films to rent. Maybe if there was a nice park to explore. Maybe if he’d want to hang out—

“That sounds like a really good night,” you said instead, a nervous laugh following your words and Eddie’s brows shot up in surprise. 

“You smoke?” He asked in disbelief. 

You shrugged, leaning back against your locker as you tried not to sound completely uncool. “Kinda? Not really. I don’t like to smoke it but- but I’d sometimes, you know, bake some brownies or something. I haven’t done it in a while, but—” you wrinkled your nose. “—moving to a new city really makes you wanna just… get really fucking high.”

Eddie was laughing and nodding, beaming at you with a pink flush covering his cheeks. You watched him swallow hard and then gesture to the door. He almost couldn’t meet your eyes when he said, “d’you, uh, wanna come hang out? Smoke with me?”

It took Eddie a whole ten minutes to drive to his house. A trailer that was tucked into the back of the park you passed every day. You shot him a look when he parked up and he rolled his eyes, like he knew what you were about to say. 

“You drove me all the way home that day, when you live, like, seconds away from—“

“Oh, shut up,” he told you, scrunching his face. “It was a fuckin’ tsunami that day. You weren’t walkin’ anywhere.” He nipped his fingers playfully at your knee as he bent over to snatch his rucksack from the footwell. When he sat back up, he was too close. You held your breath. “Besides, Wayne told me I had to, remember?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes then, shoving at his shoulder as he cackled. “God, you’re such a gentleman.” 

He was still laughing as he jumped out the van, surprising you as he appeared at your door to open it as you busied yourself with gathering your bag and jacket. Eddie waved his hand in a dramatic gesture as you got out, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“I’m gentlemanly enough to be sharing my weed with you, sweetheart, don’t put me down too much.”

It made you soften and you followed him to his front door, the trailer humming from a generator you couldn’t see. “Thank you,” you told him shyly. “For this. For the invite.” Somewhere in an ugly part of your head, was an even uglier voice that was telling you you’d made him feel bad enough that he had to invite you. That he felt sorry for you. 

You told it to shut up. 

But Eddie turned the key and looked back at you over his shoulder, his eyes soft. “S’alright. What’re friends for?”

You blinked, unable to help the smile that spread across your lips. Your cheeks ached with it.  “We’re friends, huh?” 

Eddie walked into the trailer and waited for you to follow. “I know,” he drawled dramatically. “I don’t know how it happened either.” He was grinning, an awfully pretty thing. 

You didn’t know what to say, or do, for that matter. This felt close to flirting, something that made that horrible crush you had rear up in interest, it’s heart pounding. But maybe that was just your own. 

“Here,” Eddie gestured to a small dining booth, a c-shaped bench around a little table. He cleared a pile of laundry from it and looked flustered as he decided where to put it. It got thrown onto an armchair in the corner. “Sit down, you want a drink?”

 That’s where you sat with a can of soda, watching with a stuck laugh in your throat as Eddie upended his tiny kitchen, looking for the bag of flour he insisted he had.  “I swear, it’s in here,” he told you, holding various jars of spices and cake moulds. “What the fuck?”

“You’re supposed to be a chef, Eddie.”

“I know,” the boy wailed mournfully, swearing when he dropped a whole tub of dried fruit, chocolate sprinkles and vanilla pods. “Shit, kid. Looks like you’re gonna have to be a big girl and smoke up.”

He turned, raising his eyebrows at you like a challenge. You huffed, tipping your head back so he wouldn’t see the panic in your eyes. “Fine.”

And that’s how you ended up in Eddie’s bedroom, a space filled mostly with his double bed, a glaringly personal thing that you felt like you couldn't even look at. But he blushed and spread back the unmade sheets, fluffing up his pillows before he told you to make yourself at home. So you perched on the edge and toed your sneakers off, watching as Eddie flitted around his room, kicking things under the bed as he went, pushing cook books and comics back onto his shelves. Then he plopped himself down beside you, knees almost knocking, an old tin lunch-box on his lap. He flipped the lid and grinned as he produced an already rolled joint, wagging it in front of your face. 

“A chef is always prepped,” he whispered conspiratorially. 

“You’re a dork,” you whispered back but you leaned into his pillows as he brought it to his lips. 

A lighter flickered, a flame lighting up his face in amber just for a second or two, and then he was blowing a cloud out towards his open window. You watched Eddie’s eyes shutter closed, pretty lashes fanning over his cheeks and his lips hung open for a second or two, letting out a sigh along with blue-grey smoke. He let his shoulders drop, his head roll. Melting, like butter in the heatwave.

Then, “here, have at it, sweetheart.” Eddie handed you the joint, careful that you didn’t burn yourself on the glowing ash. He watched you take it dubiously, eyeing it with caution as you prepared yourself to bring it to your lips. You cringed a little, inhaling too sharp, too quick, coughing it all back out before you could even inhale it properly. 

You were mortified, coughing into your hand as you handed the joint back to Eddie blindly, eyes tearing up, blurring him and his room. He took it quick, making sympathetic noises as he rubbed his other hand down your spine. He waited until you wiped at your eyes, until you managed to catch your breath. “You alright?”

You wanted the ground to swallow you. “Mhmm,” you managed, keeping the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes, just so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “Sorry.”

“Nah,” Eddie said quietly, voice soft. “None of that, c’mon. You want another drink?”

You ignored him, reaching for the smoke instead, insistent on showing him you weren’t a complete loser. But Eddie tsked and held it out of your reach, frowning at you with concern. You wanted to tell him you’d almost missed that stitch between his brows. “Hey, woah, slow down, yeah?” Eddie knocked a hand into your knee, a comforting touch that didn’t push either of your boundaries. Yet. “You sure you wanna smoke? I can run back to Jim’s, see if I can smuggle some flour and we can make brow—”

You shook your head emphatically, not wanting to be any sort of annoyance. “No, no, it’s fine. I can try again.”

You weren’t sure if it was the setting sun that was coming through Eddie’s window that was turning his face fuschia, or if he was suddenly blushing something furious. It took him a second or two to meet your gaze and when he did, you saw a shyness there you’d never really seen before. Eddie was blushing. 

“I could, uh,” the boy cleared his throat noisily, awkward and fumbling. He gestured to the joint he still held, to you, to himself. “I could, I could help. I could help you. You know?” He frowned at himself, annoyed at his own stuttering. 

You frowned too, confused. “No?” You replied, unsure. Your hands were fisted in his sheets, a nervous reaction.

“Shotgun. I could, well— I could shotgun you.”

“Oh.”

The room suddenly felt infinitely smaller. Warm and intimate, soft with the last of the sunlight, dust motes floating in the rays that came through slats of the blinds. You were on Eddie Munson’s bed. With Eddie Munson. You sucked in a breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Eddie seemed as surprised as you were at your answer but you nodded firmly, keeping your gaze on his, your chin lifted in a boldness you so rarely felt. So Eddie nodded too. “Right. Um, yeah. Just— c’mere.”

It was a clumsy thing, the way you both shuffled closer, the mattress dipping, sheets rippling. You moved until your knees knocked against Eddie’s and he was watching you so carefully, cautious enough that you felt too shy, a burning in your chest that spread up across your neck, your face. Eddie was holding the joint out to the side, the smoke being drawn to the open window and you looked back and forth between the cigarette and the boy. 

“Done this before?” Eddie asked you quietly. 

It was suddenly silent in the trailer, in the whole park. Fuck, Hawkins had fallen asleep, you were sure of it, because looking at Eddie this close, you couldn’t hear the way the generators hummed, you couldn’t hear the crickets or cicadas, no car engines or muffled televisions. You could hear Eddie breathe though, normal enough before it hitched a little and he had to exhale that little bit heavier - like he was nervous too. 

You shook your head and swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, chasing the taste of the orange soda you’d drank at the kitchen table. “No, never like this. I— I know what to do though.” You sounded so naïve, small and a little silly, but Eddie smiled and nodded encouragingly. 

“Atta’ girl,” he murmured and then he was bringing the joint back to his lips. He spoke around it, muffled. “Ready, yeah?”

You watched the way his cheeks hollowed out, how his gaze got a little heavier even though he kept looking at you. And this time, instead of blowing the smoke out to the window, he leaned in, one hand holding the joint away from you both, the other gesturing for you to come closer. You obeyed, moving forward with your heart lodged in your throat. You moved until Eddie’s fingertips met your jaw, skimming over the skin there and he tapped gently with his thumb. 

His gaze was lowered, lashes fanning out over his cheeks as he leaned in closer still, eyes searching yours for some kind of hesitation, a sign that you’d maybe changed your mind. And when he found none, he coaxed you a little further until his nose bumped yours and you gasped, lips parted and waiting. The boy opened his mouth, just barely, smoke slipping from between his lips and he gently blew it into yours. You didn’t realise how his hand had fallen to your neck, fingers curling around the sides of it, the cool metal of his rings on your overheated skin and the blunt scratch of his nails in your hair. 

You inhaled, a shuddering breath, shaky from how close the boy was - nothing to do with the weed. Eddie’s hand on your throat made you feel higher than anything else had before. And when there was no smoke left, when the last of it had floated up towards the ceiling and had turned into wisps in the sunlight, neither of you moved. You were still close enough that your nose bumped his when you tilted your head and you could see the freckles on the bridge of it, the tiny silver coloured scar at the end of his right brow. You wondered what Eddie could see when he looked at you, if he’d find your imperfections, if he’d find them as pretty as you did his. 

You watched as his eyes looked into your own, unabashed and completely shameless, like another hit of the joint made him a bit more bold than before. Maybe it had, because you were feeling fuzzy, a warm, heavy feeling pulling you into the mattress, into Eddie. 

Your forehead touched his. 

His thumb was on your jaw, tucked into the space underneath your ear and it was pressed there like he meant it. Like he wanted you to feel it and god, you did. You did. His eyes wandered, flicking from yours to your lips and back again, warmer than ever, a honey colour in the setting sun. You wondered what you both must’ve looked like, sitting cross legged and knees knocking on Eddie’s unmade bed, heads bent together like you were sharing secrets, like you were going to share more. 

The boy swallowed harshly, Adam’s apple bobbing and his stare on your mouth and it all made you feel so heavy and warm and lightheaded at once. You weren’t sure if it was the weed, you weren’t sure if it was Eddie. 

“Your eyes are really pretty,” he whispered and he sucked in a breath when your idle hands found his bare knees through the rips in his jeans. 

You played with the frayed hem, the loose threads and tried not to squirm at such a compliment. You hummed, nose wrinkling even when you smiled. “Thank you,” you replied politely and just as quiet. “Your eyes are pretty too.”

The boy turned pink, a pretty flush over the bridge of his nose that you wanted to trace with your fingertip. He tilted his head, inspecting you, eyes flicking over each of your features like he was drawing you in his head. “You shouldn’t be handing out compliments,” he mumured bashfully. “Not when I was such a dick to you.”

You shrugged, smiling as you leaned back just a little, too focused on the way Eddie’s lips moved as he spoke. The small space you put between you both gave you some air and Eddie’s hand dropped from your neck to trail down your arm. His fingers found your ring, a dainty thing on your middle finger that was so different to his own that it was comical and he played with the gold as you did with the rips in his denim. 

Touching. Still touching. 

“S’okay,” you told him gently. “You’ve made up for it now.”

A wry smile, a thumb brushing over the inside of your palm. “I have?”

“Oh, yeah. Free food and free weed?” You grinned when Eddie scoffed. “What more could a girl want?”

It was a rhetorical question. Eddie knew that, but still, he hummed as if he were thinking about it, his fingers dancing over your wrist now, climbing, climbing, climbing. You wished he’d cup your jaw again, warm, wide hands making you feel small and soft. 

“I dunno,” he mused. “What about a d—”

Whatever Eddie was going to say was interrupted by the opening of the trailer door. A sharp noise in the quiet and it rattled off of the wall as Wayne barged his way in, arms full of pizza boxes and a giant bottle of soda. “Ed!” He yelled out in greeting, oblivious. “Grubs up, boy, come get.”

It made you spring apart, the mattress squeaking obnoxiously at the movement and you burned at the noise, at what it made it sound like you were up to. You stared wide eyed at Eddie, like a teenager caught doing something they shouldn’t and suddenly you wondered if Wayne would shout at you both for getting high. 

But then Eddie was yelling back something noncommittal as he got off the bed, looking back down at you with an amused expression. He bent at the knees, shins hitting the mattress and his hands found your knees where he squeezed them reassuringly. “Hey, hey,” he smiled like he found you funny. Maybe he did. “S’all good, relax. Wayne doesn’t care.”

You sucked in a breath and willed away the weed induced panic you could feel brewing in your stomach, a knotting of nerves that Eddie managed to unravel with the way his fingers smoothed over your lower thighs. So you smiled back and nodded even though you felt like cardboard and when Eddie offered his hand to help you stand, you took it. 

“Hey, Wayne,” Eddie called out into the living room. “We got a dinner guest, that alright?” 

You could hear the rustle of pizza boxes being opened, the smell of basil and tomatoes wafting through the trailer. Your stomach rumbled and Eddie laughed, chuckling harder when you batted the back of your hand into his side for his lack of manners. 

“You can’t just announce that!” You hissed. “That’s so rude.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and then held out his hand to the bedroom door as if to say ‘see?’ when Wayne grunted and said, “If it’s Steve, tell him I ain’t paying extra for those damn mozzarella sticks when there’s already cheese on the pi— oh, hey, kid.”

Wayne looked surprised to see you as you shuffled out of Eddie’s bedroom in your socks. The boy had his hand on the small of your back as he coaxed you forward into the main space of the trailer. “Hi,” you waved shyly, watching with a hot face as Wayne looked at you, at his nephew and back again, brows raised in interest. “Sorry I interrupted your dinner plans, I—”

“Nonsense,” Wayne said at the same time as Eddie scoffed, “shut up.”

“C’mon, now, sit and grab a plate,” the older man urged. “Hope you like Jeopardy! ‘‘cause that’s pizza night tradition.”

You smiled and nodded as Eddie slid into the breakfast nook beside you, hips nudging yours as you budged up. And as Wayne argued with the remote control, the boy loaded up your plate with pizza slices, ignoring your protests completely. 

“God, you’re such a feeder,” you joked weakly, still embarrassed to be crashing the Munson pizza night. 

Wayne was still frowning at the buttons when he grunted and laughed. “Yep, the boy doesn’t know how to give someone a damn hug, but he’ll make sure you never go hungry. Gotta show love one way or another, huh?”

Nobody said anything and Wayne won the battle as the channel flicked over and the voice of Alex Trebek filled the room. You couldn’t quite look at Eddie and both of you sat side by side as you ate your pizza, Eddie’s curls hiding his face from view. You wondered if he was pink again, blushing and cursing out his uncle in his head. 

You wondered if you should’ve said something.  

But then, as if to prove some kind of point, Eddie barely glanced at you as he picked up the last slice of pepperoni from the box, and slid it onto your plate. 

[leafsbabe]

Vince Dunn - flu season

cw: discription of reader having a flu... 1.3k words

Waking up sick was never fun but at least you got sick while Vince was away on a road trip with the team far, far away from your germs. The last thing you needed was to get him sick too.

What had started with a sore throat had quickly developed into a full on flu. You felt horribly gross and in pain but at least you didn’t have to worry about work since your doctor gave you a note that excused you for two whole weeks.

The boredom was the worst of it, since everything you could think of to pass the time hurt. No phone because looking at a screen made your headache worse. No TV either since the noises made your headache worse. You couldn’t even blow your stuffy nose or cough without making your headache worse.

So napping it was.

After days of naps you expected to feel at least a little bit rested but no. Everything felt exhausting. There was nothing besides sleep, painkillers, and plain yogurt in your life. 

Your muscles ached as you fought your way out of the blanket pile you slept under. Two days ago you had mustered up the strength to swap your bedding with the guest room set in an attempt to be surrounded by less germs. Today you shuffled to your closet and changed into a different shirt for the same reason.

Just as you were debating if you should try and make your way into the kitchen your bedroom door opened, revealing your boyfriend.

The two of you just looked at each other before you spoke up at the same time.

“You look terrible. Get back into bed.”

“I thought you wouldn’t get home until Tuesdays?”

You immediately regretted speaking, your throat burning now.

“It is Tuesday.” Vince said, dropping his bag with a dull thud. “Bed. Come on.”

You went without protest, letting yourself be tucked in and hiding your face in the blankets when he attempted to feel your forehead.

Vince didn’t stop fussing over you though. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” 

“Didn’t want you to worry. You needed to focus on the games.” It felt like a silly reason but you didn’t want to distract Vince during a road trip.

“Baby…” He trailed off, one of his hands coming up to brush over your sweaty hair. “Those games aren’t as important as you.”

You wanted to protest but Vince shushed you. “I could have at least asked the boys to send one of their wives over to check in on you and make sure you’re not dying.”

Just as you wanted to reply your body betrayed you, a coughing fit wrecked your body so hard your eyes started to water from the pain.

Vince didn’t comment on it; he just brushed your hair out of your face and tucked the blankets around you tighter. Well.. it looked like you would be staying in bed for a little while longer.

“I’m going to the store real quick.” Vince decided. “I’ll only be gone a few minutes but if anything happens promise you’ll call.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You mumbled or maybe slurred. You couldn’t quite tell.

It wouldn’t matter anyways because somewhere between Vince pressing a kiss to your feverish  forehead and him walking towards the door, you fell asleep.

By the time you woke up again twilight had set in. The low light coming through the window didn’t agitate your throbbing headache and you managed to get up and out of bed without the struggle you had earlier in the day.

The apartment was silent as you made your way out of the bedroom. It seemed like several hours had passed since Vince left but you couldn’t tell if he’d come back, which worried you more than the flu. You knew Vince wouldn’t just leave you alone while you were sick, that was the whole reason why you didn’t tell him about it in the first place. 

Finally you spotted light coming from the kitchen but the sight that greeted you when you went to investigate wasn’t something you expected. Vince was standing with his back to you, working on something on the stove you couldn’t see. From what you could smell —and that wasn’t very much— whatever he was cooking smelled amazing. You didn’t know Vince could cook.

“What now?” He spoke, his voice loud over the quiet noises of the boiling water. For a moment you thought he was talking to you before his mom’s voice filled the room.

“Turn the heat to low and let it simmer. It should be done in 15 to 20 minutes.”

Vince nodded and as he moved you could see his iPad propped up, his mother’s face on the screen on a video call.

“And you better set a timer because we both know you’ll just forget about it and let the soup burn.”

“Mom, that’s—”

“Don’t say anything. You know I’m right. Now show me what tea you brought.”

You watched in silence as your boyfriend picked up a bag and placed it on the counter before holding up box after box after box of tea.

“Oh dear. How many different kinds did you get?”

Vince shrugged, the muscles under his shirt moving from where you could see his back. “I dunno. Like ten?” He looked between the bag and his mother’s face on the screen, then held up two more boxes.

“The red box.” His mom decided. “Do you have a kettle?”

Vince didn’t respond for a moment, freezing up at the question. “Uh…”

“Cabinet to your left.” You decided to help him out, alerting him to your presence.

He jumped, dropping the boxes he was holding. “You’re awake.”

“You’re cooking.”

The two of you just looked at each other for a moment before he finally seemed to register that you were standing in the kitchen with him. “Why aren’t you in bed? You're sick and need to rest.”

He walked over to you and felt your forehead again. “You don’t feel as hot as before. That’s good right?”

“Feel a little better too.” Speaking still hurt a little but you’d manage for the moment. “I wanted to look for you.”

Vince smiled. “You found me. Now get back to bed. I’ll bring you some tea and some soup soon.”

You wanted to fight him just on principle but a weird shiver ran through your body. “Okay.” You conceded, turning towards the iPad and addressing his mom for the first time since you stepped into the kitchen. “Hi. Thank you for helping Vince with the cooking.”

“Of course sweetheart. Get well soon. I’m gonna log off but don’t hesitate to call if you need any more help, okay?”

Vince barely managed to get out a “Thanks mom. Love you. Bye.” before the call ended. He then turned back to you, placing his hand on the small of your back and gently steering you towards the hallway. “Come on baby. Let's get you back into bed. A little rest and we’ll get you healthy again in no time.”

You laughed a little at his attentiveness. This side of him wasn’t exactly new but it surprised you time and time again, the amount of attention he paid to every little ailment. Vince cared. A lot. “Whatever you say, Dr. Dunn.”

Vince tucked you in again, this time letting you sit against the headboard as he went back to the kitchen to finish the soup and bring it to you alongside two different mugs of tea and some medicine. Smiling, you carefully tried the hot soup as he watched, a small satisfied moan leaving your mouth at the taste. Not bad at all. When you looked at Vince he smiled down at you with a soft look in his eyes and you couldn’t help but hope for a quick recovery. The last thing you wanted to do was get him sick but you also really wanted to kiss him. Soon, you thought. You’d be back to health in no time, but until then you could be convinced to let Vince play doctor (and private chef) a little longer.

[applejuicebegood]

All My Love - Platonic!Gaz x Teammate!Reader

Fem!Reader

Summary: Stressing over the cooking for that evening and bad memories, Y/N finds Gaz who talks them through what their feeling. A/N: Wrote this for the very sweet @midnights-song and @kaoyamamegami for their very kind words on my last fic. This one is a sorta fallow up, please enjoy! Masterlist

Cw: Descriptions of absent + alcoholic mother, mentions of PTSD-related flashbacks, elder-child syndrome Word Count: 1960

The smell of cedar smoak and garlic clung to your hands and hair. A dull ache snaked its way up the back of your knees and into your thighs. Wringing your hands with a damp tea-towel you looked over your kitchen, the results of your labour tucked away in the humming oven and boiling on the stove top. Flour and spices swirled together across every vacant surface, oil-stained pots and bowls crowded your skink, and potato skins and egg shells were crowded in a pile across from the filled compost bin you were meaning to take outside to feed to your chickens. You puffed out a long breath, resting your wrists on your hips. You had finally finished all of the cooking for tonight's supper for your teammates. 

Your experience with cooking has been relegated to that of your small family. The distant memories of your aunts and grandmothers crowded in the same kitchen where you stood now, knives and peelers making quick work of the harvested meat and potatoes your farm had cultivated. It was the only thing you recalled as you struggled to discern the cramped handwriting of the recipes left behind by your family. Their jovial laughing and quick gaelic speak now distant memories carved into the cabinets and countertops. Smeared on the vintage china and cast iron skillets hung on the oak walls. If you stayed still and concentrated enough you could remember the feeling of your grandmother's rough palm on your supple cheek and her lips on your forehead. The smell of milk and wheat wafting through your senses. 

You were much younger then. Your fingers easily slipping onto the knife's blade and your wrists burned from boiling pasta water. You needed to use your baby sister's step stool to stand over the cutting board properly. Your mother was too busy passed out on the couch with a bottle of whiskey slipping from her limp grasp to worry about feeding her children. You were the eldest, therefore it became your job to try and emulate the effortless dance you watched your female relatives perform every holiday season or family reunion. 

Now you were quicker, easily controlling the tools in your scarred, tattooed hands. Your time in the military proved helpful in quickening your reaction speed, allowing you to cut through the squash and potatoes faster than before. You had begun the cooking process that morning, refusing the offered help from your teammates. Insisting that guests shouldn’t be expected to cook and that you could handle it. And you could, although it resulted in the ache in your thighs spreading into your lower back, causing a hushed groan to escape from your throat as you tugged at the roots of your hair. 

You quickly turned at the harsh thumping of boots on the creaking wooden stairs. Drawn out of your spiralling stupor. 

‘Holy.. smells fucking amazing in here lass..’ ‘Language! Johny!’ You say through clenched teeth, motioning to the living room couch where your baby sister was supposed to be sitting next to your captain. The volume of the football game on the TV turned down. Johnny winced in apology, hushing his booming voice to a whisper. ‘Sorry.. Sorry, here you go sit.. I’ll clean’ 

Johnny says after looking you over and taking the towel from your hands. Your team had gotten good at noticing when exhaustion or strain worked its way into each other's bodies. Your hunched shoulders and wide eyes giving away your building stress. ‘Oh Johnny no.. you don’t have too-’ ‘Yea.. yea, Go sit lassie.. After mak’in all this food I’m surprised you're still standing’ Johnny says ushering you to the living room before patting your shoulder and turning to find a starting point in the stack of dishes. 

You sigh. The instinct of obeying your higher ranking sergeant hadn’t seemed to wear off yet. Walking to the couch you expected to have your little sister squeal and jump into your arms. Only to find her little body curled against your captain’s side. Her hands bunched up under her chin, the delicate skin of her eyelids shut. Price’s head rested on the back of the couch with his arms stretched out over the cushions, his mouth slightly agape. You quietly leaned down to brush your sister's forehead, as if in response she snuggled her cheek against Price’s side at your touch, not wanting to be woken up just yet. Price twitched in his sleep, pulling Emi closer against him. You kissed the side of her head, pulling the knitted blanket up over her shoulders and across your captain's lap. The warm prick of relief spread across your skin at the realization that your baby sister had grown comfortable enough to fall asleep in the circle of your captain's embrace. Hoping that she had found someone other than you to admire and emulate.  

You made your way to the back porch, pulling on a leather overcoat to protect your warmth from the bite of the winter air. As you swung the glass door open, the brush of cold against your warm cheeks soothed you, your breath clouding up in front of you. You looked out onto the backyard of your farm, a few metres of blanketed gardening space trailing out to the fenced off cliff side. The clothesline pole used in the warmer months stood to the right, the cable attached to the house swinging in the swirling wind. The fence built to keep your cows and sheep and your sisters from roaming too close to the cliff edge poked out from the dull white snow. Past the drop of land, you could see the storm-grey waves churning and thrashing against each other like fighting children. Stretching further into the distance. You slowed your breathing and shut your eyes, trying to test if you could hear the water slap against the cliff side. When you were little, you would climb through the wire fencing and peer over the cliff's edge, never realizing how if you took only a few more steps death would embrace you like the waves embraced the fistfulls of grass and pebbles you would toss over the edge. Sometimes you wished you could return to that state of not even being afraid of falling from a cliff face. 

‘Hey.. Y/N?’ ‘Oh! Kyle.. shit you scared me!’ 

The jolt of surprise at Gaz’s voice ran up your spine and over your chest. In your daze, you didn’t realize Gaz settled on the porch's couch, a book from the living room shelf open in his lap. The deck held a few mismatched outdoor chairs and a couch, crowded with old throw pillows and spear blankets. Small metal lanterns hung overhead, painted and decorated by your sisters when they were both in primary school. The dwindling candle light gently swayed over Gaz’s smooth brown skin, a warm break from the multitude of grey stretching out before you. 

‘Heh sorry, here.. Sit. You look like you need a break’ Your boots scuffed against the deck floor as you settled yourself by Kyle. You tucked your legs up underneath you with a groan. The pain settling in your legs. You were still fixated on the blurred horizon line stretching beyond the haze of clouds that were beginning to roll in from the town harbour. Gaz’s presence beside you blurring like the apparent ending of the surrounding oceans. ‘Hey.. you alright?’ Gaz asked with the snap of his book shutting. ‘Yeah.. yeah of course.. Just, just thinking about.. Ya know, I mean… I-I just want things to be good for you guys’ You say, looking up at him. Folding your arms over your chest. ‘What.. What do you mean? Y/N.. things have been perfect, I honestly don’t know what else you could do to make this trip more enjoyable’ ‘I know.. I mean- I think, I don’t know Gaz.. I just worry that.. that this isn’t.. Ugh! I don’t even know what i’m saying’ You chuckle, gripping your head as you run a hand through your hair. Glancing at Gaz you notice him scratching the jagged scar on his forearm. 

It was during a mission in your last deployment that an enemy soldier split his skin open with a combat knife. Your stitches were frantic and clumsy, being that you were in the back of a moving helicopter for the evac and you had to watch the consciousness drain out of your friend's face. You noticed how as the cut started to heal Gaz would scratch at the scar absently, something that annoyed you being that it would remind you that the split wouldn't be so gnarled had you been able to keep your shaking hands steady.  ‘You really have no clue how to stop worrying..’

His tone was sad, grey like the ocean waters.

‘Worrying ‘bout you lot is my job.. It’s not something I can just.. Turn off’ You were frustrated, picking at the loose threads of the embroidered pattern lacing around your skirt. ‘I get that. I had that during my first break home, not being able to remember how to.. Ya know.. Be normal. To be a person and not a soldier. God, it would drive Ma mad, how I could only get up at five in the morning and.. Ya know.. The flashbacks’ You watched him as he talked, his rich brown eyes cast down at his hands. ‘There really isn’t a proper way to “be normal”, not after what you've been through, what you’ve seen. But that's not something you have to figure out on your own.. I mean hell, most of us would be dead if you weren't on this team Y/N’ ‘Ha.. I know’ ‘Exactly, what I mean is.. You've got people around you who would do anything for you. And we are probably the only ones who know what it’s like to be stuck in trying to remember who you were before deployment. It’s something we’ve all experienced, so don’t you believe for a second you should go through it by yourself.’ Gaz leaned forward, placing his hand on your knee. You instinctively took his fingers into your own, his hands cold. You forced yourself to meet his eyes, gently nodding your head. Your smile tight, trying to hold back the growing dampness in the corners of your eyes. You squeezed his hand, running your thumb over his knuckle. He squeezed your fingers back, a silent language you shared when words were too daunting to put together. You always found it shocking how this kind of comfort felt like it was being directed at someone else. Like it was a puzzle piece ripped in half, it could still fit in the piece but it appeared foreign. You weren't used to it, and how easily it appeared to flow from Gaz. In his words and in his viable willingness to help you. The unusual sensation of being understood made it hard to express your gratitude for it, Gaz knew this. Which is why you both sat there, in a shared understanding only the both of you as colleagues and friends could have. ‘You smell great by the way’

His blunt comment caused a ripple of laughter to fall from your lips, a tear drifting down the bridge of your nose. ‘You dick..’ You scoffed, leaning your head onto his shoulder, tucking your arm under his. 

‘Do aingeal den sórt sin’

You mumble, directing your attention back to the grey horizon line. ‘What does that mean..?’ Gaz asks, following your gaze outwards. You respond with a simple sigh. The stress and aching dissipated for the moment, something you didn’t want to risk losing with your supposed inability to properly thank Gaz for his tenderness and care.

A/N: ‘Do aingeal den sórt sin’ translates to 'your such an angel' in Irish Gaelic

[togrowoldinv]

Mac and Cheese

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Natasha comes home from work and everything seems to fall apart until it falls back into place

Note: Soft Nat 💙 Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

The first time you made Natasha cry was one of the worst moments of your life.

It was a typical Tuesday evening. You got home from work before Natasha and decided to cook some dinner for the both of you. You were no chef, so you got out some simple ingredients and got to work.

When Nat got home, that’s when everything changed. She sighed as she closed the front door of your apartment behind her. It had been a long day and she was exhausted.

“Babe, is that you?” You asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s me,” came the simple reply. Nat slipped off her shoes and walked in the direction of your voice.

“Hey Natasha!” You greeted her. “I’m making mac and cheese. It’ll be done in-“ You were interrupted by Natasha excusing herself to the bathroom. Her face was pale and her head hung low as she turned away from you. “Nat?” You called after her. But you got no response.

After a few minutes, you turned off the stove and followed the path to the bathroom. Right before you could knock on the door, you heard a stifled sob from your girlfriend.

You hadn’t heard or seen Natasha cry before. You wondered how many times she had cried by herself in the bathroom just like this.

“Natasha, baby, are you okay?” You asked through the closed door. Your palms were placed on the door as if Nat could see through it and see your opened arms for her.

“I’m fine,” she said. Her voice betrayed her with its brokenness.

“Open the door, please,” you asked her. There was no response. “Natasha, open the door. You don’t need to be alone in there, my love. Whatever is going on, I’m here for you.”

And then the door clicked open. Natasha was standing there with her head low and her chin wobbly as she fought back more tears.

“Oh, baby,” you pulled her into a hug immediately. “I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry.”

You rubbed her back with your hand as she cried against you. You took her face in your hands and kissed her forehead.

“Before you say anything, Nat, I’m so sorry. I don’t know exactly what I did to upset you, but please tell me and I’ll fix it.”

“No, it’s not you. I just had a shitty day at work and was reminded of-“ she broke to sniffle and you gave her an encouraging nod to keep going. “Mac and cheese was my little sister’s favorite.”

“Little sister?” You asked her in confusion.

“Yelena. She was my sister during our time in Ohio. I’ve been trying to find her again, but it seems like an impossible task,” Natasha explained.

“That’s why you’ve been working so much, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry the mac and cheese set me off. I’m just exhausted,” Natasha said.

“I know, my love,” you kissed her softly. “Tell me more about this sister of yours.”

And so you and Natasha spent the evening eating mac and cheese as she told you of her little sister. She laughed and she cried as she recounted her time on Ohio with Yelena, Melina, and Alexei. Joking that she liked them in that order.

It’s two years later when your now wife comes home from a mission with a blonde girl standing beside her. You don’t have to ask who she is. The look on Natasha’s face says it all.

“Come on in, Yelena,” you say. The blonde smiles at you. You realize Natasha must’ve told her about you.

They sit on the couch as you go to the kitchen. You make the two women a snack.

“Mac and cheese?” Yelena asks.

“You remembered?” Nat asks you. She stands to hug you.

“Of course, baby.”

“I love you,” she says as she holds you close.

“I love you too, Natasha. Forever and ever,” you reply.

She tears up as she feels the gravity of the situation. Her sister is back and she married the perfect someone for her. You’re so happy she found her sister again.

This time when you make Natasha cry it’s one of the best moments of your life.

Tag List: @gracebutnotgraceful @i-wished-for-you-too @wandasbb @be-missed @likefirenrain @hehehehannahthings @mythosphere-x @readings-stuff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @milfloverslut @mrswidowjohansson @alotofpockets @wandassitcom @ggrangerdanger @marvelwomen-simp @maia-lightwoood @xxromanoffxx @peanutbutterprincess @karmasgxrl @picnicmic @wandaslittlewhore @exhaustedfangirl @when-wolves-howl @natashalovers @marie45019 @inluvwithfictionalwomen @sammi1642 @jujuu23 @the-night-owl-blr @strangegardentaco @avatarsnips @romanoffswoman @natashasilverfox @imthenatynat @sayah13 @harleysincairo @rach2602 @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @lovelyy-moonlight @huitzilinthebudgie3 @juicyy444 @natblackwidow2 @youralphawolf72 @btay3115 @red1culous @lenam07 @randomwriter1021

[missluckycharms]

Our Little Family.

Summary: Y/N has some important news to tell Harry.

A/N: IM CRYING SO FUCKING HARD. AHHH.

Honey Harry & Y/N Masterlist.

—

Harry was stressed.

Very very stressed. It was a busy day at Styles Law Firm, meetings being held left right and centre about a huge case that was presented to them by the court, needing some lawyers from his firm on the case, but most were hesitant due to the nature of the case.

It’s safe to say Harry nearly ripped his hair out when the court went else where for their lawyers, having them miss out on a huge business deal and a way to get their company’s word out and have future clients.

“You should really take it easy H, you haven’t eaten.” Y/N says stepping into his office, Harry allowed her to stay on as his secretary, she didn’t need to as she’s now moved in with Harry and he basically has enough money for her to never work again, she insists on helping, wanting to do something.

“M’fine darling, just want this day to be over.” Is all he grumbles, taking a gulp of his strong black coffee as she sighs shutting his office door and walking to stand behind him.

“It’ll be over soon, we’ll be home, having a bubble bath and a nice meal in no time, yeah?” She hums softly, hands now kneading his shoulders as he basically moans at the feeling, smile appearing on his face as the tension leaves his shoulders.

“Just a bubble bath and meal?” He teases, her laugh loud as she bends down to let her lips brush off his ear.

“It’s Friday night isn’t it? Honey will be in your Mums …” she trails off, nibbling on his earlobe which has him groaning at her words, mind already heading towards what he’ll do to her tonight when they’re alone.

God, he’s so fucking easy for her.

“Now Mr Styles, get back to work.”

Harry gets home after Y/N, she has evenings off and only works mornings so she can collect Honey from school and take her home. Today, she was getting her ready for Anne’s and she was already gone and there by the time Harry walks in the door, his heart breaking a little seeing he was too late to kiss and hug her goodbye, but he’s soon smiling when he smells something cooking and hearing Y/N’s soft singing as she cooks.

“What’s cooking, good looking?” He says with a laugh slapping her ass as she jumps a little slapping his chest lightly because he startled her while she was at the stove.

“You’re so cringe, you’d know your an old man.” She teases, his fake gasp having her wink and turning around biting her lip as she feels him behind her again.

“Old man huh? Well, could an old man fuck you like I do, hmm? Don’t try and get smart with me darling, you know I fuck you good, even say it yourself when I’m balls deep in you.” He whispers as she feels a shiver down her spine at his low voice, arousal dripping off his tongue as he speaks.

He notices her sudden movements and he’s smiling like a devil behind her “Turn off the stove baby, I’ll show you how good this old man can fuck.”

That night was over a month ago, it was filled with loud moans, dirty talk and rounds upon rounds of sex that lasted for hours, both of them panting and shaking by the end of it but Harry never wiped the smug look off his face once.

It was safe to say, that even if they have an eight year age gap, Harry could fuck Y/N better than anyone her age or any age for that matter ever could. She was always amazed at his stamina, he could go for hours and yet she’d be exhausted by round two, asking for a nap as Harry just laughs and teases her.

Y/N has been at home with what she’s chalked down to as the stomach bug, Harry being all pouty when he had to leave her this morning before heading off to work, telling her he’ll be home as fast as he can and he’ll bring her some soup that will help ease her tummy and vomiting that seemed to be worse the second she woke up for the last three days.

It’s only when a week later that she’s still vomiting, she becomes alarmed when she realises she’s two weeks late, her period never came and she’s been vomiting non stop each morning for a week now? She immediately rushes towards the nearest store and grabs two boxes of tests, hands shaking as she pays, nearly falling up the driveway to get inside and take one.

She’s nervous, very very nervous.

The test was only taken two hours before she had to collect Honey from school. Her friends messaging her and asking her to hang out get some lunch and manicures. She decided to agree, wanting to just have some fun.

“Papa!” Honey sings when Harry walks in the door, immediately rushing to latch onto his leg. He’s home earlier today, Honey only being home for an hour before he walked through the door.

“Hello button! You had fun today? Hmm?” He asks picking her up, walking through the hallway to try and find Y/N, his head popping into the living room and then kitchen before he finds her.

“Oh! Feeling better darling?” He asks with a laugh, noticing how she’s dressed and ready to head off somewhere, makeup on and hair done with her own bright smile.

Harry was happy she was better, he was becoming concerned that she was seriously ill when she kept vomiting for a week straight, she still seemed off this morning but now she’s looking happy and healthy as ever.

“Much better, had some of that soup you bought again yesterday, worked wonders.” She smiles kissing him as he smiles against her lips, Honey now running off towards the living room.

“Where you off to?” He asks grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, noticing how she has her handbag in hand and constantly clicking her phone to check the Home Screen.

“Tilly and a few of the girls asked me to go on a girls day out, she should be here any second now.” She beams, Harry smiling at her and delighted that shes going out to have some fun after being so poorly.

“Have fun my darling, I love you, call me if you need me!” He kisses her and shouts after her when she runs towards the front door, Tilly outside in her car waving at Harry who’s waving them both off happily.

—

Y/N gives it another few days before she takes another test, the first test she took came up very faintly as two lines, she wasn’t convinced of it at all. She brushed it off and went about her days until she noticed herself becoming more and more exhausted throughout the days, stomach bloating and her nausea not going away.

She knew for definite this test would be positive, her period never came, not even any signs of it coming! Either she was pregnant or something was very wrong … which had her slightly panicked also.

She’s pacing around hers and Harrys bedroom as the test sits their bathroom, her alarm set for two minutes. Harry is in work, Honey is needing to be collected in twenty minutes and then taken to Anne’s for the night. Y/N has never felt this nervous in her life, she can feel her tummy turning at every possible outcome from any situation her body could be in right now.

If she is pregnant, she’d be over the moon, her and Harry hadn’t really had that talk, but she knows he would be more than happy if she was, heck, he was nearly crying a few nights ago when he mentioned how he held a baby dress — Y/N wanted him to have another baby, have one to raise and be there for the moments he missed with Honey.

Her alarm breaks her from her panicked thoughts. Legs running towards the bathroom and hands shaking as she takes a deep breath, psyching herself up before she just rips the bandaid off and looks, her eyes tear up when she sees what she knew would be true.

Two very very visible lines.

—

Y/N took three more tests when she dropped Honey off to Anne’s each test reading the same which had her nearly jumping for joy, tears streaming down her face as she celebrates alone.

Then she panics, how does she tell Harry? What do people do when telling their spouse?

She decides to cook a meal, Harry wouldn’t be too suspicious as she cooks nearly every day, she loves being in the kitchen and harry loves her cooking.

So, when Harry walks in the door he’s speeding towards the kitchen, nose sniffing the air as he smells the delicious meal that’s being cooked.

“Smells amazing darling.” He announces himself, walking over to plant a kiss to her lips, smiling against them as she thanks him softly.

“Is Honey already in m’Mums?” He asks, shrugging off his coat and laptop bag, placing his coat on the chair and letting his bag sit on the island.

“Mmh.” She hums, not turning around to face him, keeping her eyes on the food she’s cooking.

He senses something is off, usually she would hum when cooking, would never give one word answers, Y/N is a talker, she’ll always have a story to tell him when he walked in, now she’s quiet and not even looking at him. Had he done something wrong?

She hears him shuffle around behind her, his shoulder bag unzipping and then zipping again as she focuses on trying to cook and not scream to him at the top of her lungs that she’s pregnant because he has no idea how to tell him, none at all. Zero. It’s nerve wracking.

“Havin’ an off day? Hmm?” He asks softly, stood beside her with one arm wrapped around her as she doesn’t say a thing, just smiles at him which makes him smile back and then he holds something in front of them both.

“Had a feelin’ you were, barely texted all day. Got us something to help unwind.” He says excitedly, she turns her head to see her favourite wine, the same wine she first had when Harry took her out on their first official date, they drank so much of it, she’s surprised their blood wasn’t Cherry wine by the end of the night.

“Good old Vin de Cerise, gets us both up and dancing, remember?” He laughs, calling the wine by its French name, the same way he did when they first took a sip, Y/N gushing over how easily he can speak French — she’d be lying if she said it didn’t get her going, his low voice just wraps around each word so perfectly.

His heart breaks a little when she doesn’t laugh like she did on their date, she doesn’t smile or she doesn’t ask him to pour some out, she just stays looking at the pot stirring the pasta.

“Darling, can you look at me for a mo’?” She feels her heart ache when he asks this, his hands reaching between them to switch off the stove while settling down the wine.

“C’mere, what’s going on in that lovely head of yours? Huh? Missin’ you so much, come back to me, yeah?” He coos, cradling her face in his hands as she just pinches her eyes shut, trying not to cry over the immense amount of fear she feels, the anxiety, it’s all too much.

“Do they sell that wine in non alcoholic?” She blurts out, a small smile tugging on her lips as Harry looks at her confused, thumbs running over her cheekbones as she just looks at him not saying another word.

“I can check the store if you’d like, I’m sure they would have. Is that what’s wrong? I’m sorry darling, I’ll get you some non alcoholic wine … I’ll be back in a few minutes, Kay?” He says panicked, bending down to kiss her lips but his panicked self has her laughing hysterically now, making Harry wonder even more if she’s okay or not.

“H! Calm down!” She shouts between laughs as Harry begins to get panicked about her wine again, insisting that he’ll drive off to a store right now and get it, Y/N hot on his heels as he grabs his coat and keys heading for the door.

“Darling, it’s not a problem! I’ll get your wine, don’t worry.” He laughs reassuring her, his lips kissing her face as she laughs holding onto his shirt tightly so he can’t get out the door.

“I’m pregnant!” She yells, comes right out and says it as they stand in the hallway by the front door, Harry doesn’t know if he heard her properly until she’s grabbing something from her sweatshirt pocket, four tests that all had two dark lines on them.

“My baby?” He asks in disbelief, eyes welling up with tears already as Y/N just nods, watching as his face drops from shock to happiness, tears rolling down his face.

“You’re having my baby!” He shouts out, hands shaking as he takes her into his arms, lifting her up off the floor and twirling her around yelling in pure happiness, their laughs loud as they celebrate the moment between them too.

“Oh my god! I’m having another baby!” He says stopping himself suddenly, his shock settling in again as Y/N smiles, cradling his face in her hands as she kisses his nose.

“What if I can’t do it? I barely raised Honey, Mum was there … Y/N, what if i can-“

“No, do not put yourself down. You raised Honey, you made her into who she is, you were there and you still are there. Whatever happened is in the past, you never gave up, you have given Honey so much, you are the best fucking Dad in the world.” She scolds him softly, tears streaming down both of their faces now.

“You’ll be there, right? Please tell me you’ll be there.” He sobs, holding onto her tighter, the flashbacks of Myla entering his mind, how she and him were in this exact position and nine months later she was gone, ripped away from him.

“I promise. We’re in this together, we’re a team, we’re a family.” Y/N reassures him, holding him tighter as he sobs into her hair, holding her as if she’ll vanish at any given moment.

“Now, I was cooking some fancy ass pasta dish, but if I’m being honest, I could really go for a McDonald’s right now.” She mumbles against his chest, lightening the mood and bringing them back into happiness.

“I’ll give you anything you want, I love you so much.” He laughs with her, kissing her all over her face as she holds his shirt relishing in his love.

“We’re having a baby!” Harry jumps excitedly as he rushes her towards the car, the pair looking ridiculous as they basically run and jump into the car hugging and kissing all over one another.

“I’m having another baby!” He shouts out the window as they’re driving, Y/N in the passenger seat just letting him have his moment, the pure joy on his face was worth the anxiety she felt for almost three weeks.

“H! Careful!” She warns as he gets too excited and speeds up a little on the road.

“M’sorry darling, just so fucking happy.” He laughs, tears welling in his eyes again.

Harry never thought he would see the day when he’d have two little loves in his life, during the roughest time in his life he saw no way out, no future and no happiness for him, but as he watches Y/N devour a Big Mac, milkshake and a large fries, he knew that this was meant to be, Myla sent Y/N, and he’s so fucking happy she’s around, and now having his baby.

“So, baby names, what are we thinking? Do you feel like it’s a boy or girl? Twins? Triplets? More?”

Y/N just laughed at his fifty questions, letting him ask away and rant away in his happy state as they sat eating McDonald’s together.

This is how she wants to spend the rest of her life.

[rascalthehamster]

If specific kinks are ok maybe feederism/feedism Beastars hcs on yandere feeder Riz force feeding feedee eastern black bear gn darling reader?

Yandere Feeder Riz

Riz is obsessive and controlling as a Yandere. He wants to plan out your daily schedule and what you’ll do from your day to day but he knows he can’t so he does the next best thing, controlling what you eat.

He already makes all the meals for the bears in the dorm so one more plate wouldn’t hurt. Especially when that person eating is just so cute.

Even when you’ve finished two hearty plates and the other roommates are in their beds he gives another plate to you.

You refuse at first, feeling as if you’re going to burst open if you put another crumb in, not realizing just how big Riz has gotten.

He grabs a seat next to you but is still towering over your form. He grabs a spoon and picks up his freshly made curry. “A growing bear like you needs to eat, so open wide.”

He brings the spoon forward, parting your lips with his force and closing your mouth with his other hand and doesn’t remove it until he feels you swallow.

The next thing you know is that you’ve eaten the entire third plate and feel like you can barely move. You end up passing out in the chair, too exhausted to get up.

You wake up in your bed, trying to remember the events of the night before. Riz was feeding you and just wouldn’t stop. You still feel like you could pop but you get up for breakfast anyways.

When you walk into the kitchen you see Riz once again at the stove cooking. Your roommates must have already went to class today. “Go ahead and sit at the table.” Riz says. You do as he says, considering his ever increasing size.

When you do sit down you have to adjust your chair farther back then usual because of the added weight. Riz places another hearty plate of delicious smelling food. You eat the first plate pretty easily but when he fills up a second one without even asking, you start to feel sick.

“Listen, Riz-“ you’re quickly cut off by a spoon being forced into your mouth. “Make sure you eat plenty so you can grow big and strong like a bear should.”

This spoon nudge was much more forceful then yesterdays and that one almost took your tooth out. Riz’s form towered over yours once again as he shoved another spoonful inside your mouth.

When you finished a second plate, and then a third, you decided to use the bathroom to get away from him. When you did you saw a bottle of pills with Riz’s name on them in the trash. Fear ran through your body as you realized why Riz was being so forceful and how he got so big all of the sudden, he stopped taking his strength reduction pills.

When you left the bathroom he was standing in the kitchen with a large bento box, made just for you. “Make sure you also get school lunch with this. I’ll be there to make sure you get a big one too.” Riz patted you on the back and sent you to your class, his eyes never leaving you.

——————————————————————

I’m kinda glad Riz got requested ngl.

[supernaturalgirl20]

Baby, let me love you!

Pairings: Frankie Morales x F!reader

Warnings: just pure fluff!

Summary: your not feeling well and Frankie takes care of you.

A/N: this is just a little something small for @ezras-channel-rat. Hope you feel better my dear 🥰 I also need this today after my booster jab.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 😍

Your muscles ached, head pounding as you sniffled your way into the bathroom. Looking at your reflection in the mirror you think you look like death warmed up. Ever since you were young you’ve always got a few head colds a year, nothing major, but this, this felt different. Every breath felt like your lungs were on fire and your throat was dry. Every swallow felt like you’d swallowed razor blades. There was no way you could go to work today, so slowly making your way back into your bedroom you call work and tell them you’ll be out for a few days. Once that was done you sent a quick text to Frankie who’d left the house early today for work. Feeling totally exhausted and drained of energy you climb back into bed and try and sleep.

Sometime later the sound of a constant buzzing wakes you from your slumber and you reach across to your bedside locker for your phone.

“Hello.”

“Hi baby….hey are you ok? You don’t sound good.”

“No I think I have the flu I feel like crap so I called in and I’m just here in bed.”

“Do you want me to come home?”

“There’s no point Frankie I’ll be fine, will you just grab a takeout for yourself tonight I don’t have the energy to cook anything.”

“Of course, baby you just rest up and I’ll see you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Frankie quickly shoves his phone into his pocket and heads over to Jess his boss and explains that he needs to leave early. He figures he’s worked in the overtime he deserves to take a half day. Getting the go ahead he hops into his truck and drives towards the store, he wants to grab a few things for you. Arriving home he heads straight for the kitchen, emptying the contents of his back onto the counter. He stands staring at everything before he begins to put his plan in motion.

He grabs a bottle of water and some ibuprofen and make his way to your shared bedroom finding you fast asleep. Even though your asleep you look uncomfortable and it pains him to see you like this. He leaves them on the locker before turning around and heading towards the bathroom. He begins to fill the bath, making sure the water is hit to sooth your aching muscles. Rummaging through your lotions he finds some salts and soaks for sore muscles and pours them in. Then he lights loads of candles and throws in some petals.

Making his way back downstairs he heads straight for the pot he left on the counter, adding in lemons, cloves, honey, a pinch of ginger and puts it on the stove to boil. This was something his mom used to make when he was sick and it helped. Grabbing two mugs and adding in one measure of whiskey he pours the contents of the pot into them and carries them into the bathroom.

You stir awake to the feel of his dry lips kissing your cheek and when you slowly open your eyes, you meet his deep brown ones filled with love and worry.

“Frankie? Why are you home?”

“I had time to take back so here I am. How are you feeling now baby?”

You try to move into a seated position but your muscles groan with each movement.

“Here let me help you baby.”

“You didn’t need to come home though, I’m ok.”

He looks at you sceptically arching his eyebrow, “well it’s my duty as your fiancé to take care of you so I’m gonna help you into the bathroom, I’ve filled a nice hot bath to help ease the pain.”

“You’re too good to me baby.”

“I’m not good enough, but this is a start. Come on.” Wrapping one arm around you the other going under your legs he carries you bridal style into the bathroom and helps you strip. Easing into the hot water you let out a moan at the feeling of the water on your skin. Laying back you completely submerge you body until you hear the rustle of clothes. Opening one eye you see Frankie stripping.

“What are you doing Frankie?”

“Joining you! Unless you don’t…”

You smile up at him and move down making room for him, a silent invitation. He lowers himself in behind you and pulls you flush against him before tracing over and grabbing the mugs and handing you one.

“What’s this?”

“Just something my mom used to give us when we were sick, it’ll help trust me.”

“Hmm, this tastes good.”

You let out a contented sigh and he holds you a little tighter. He moves his hands to your shoulders and starts to massage them and it’s all you need to complete melt into the water, your body finally relaxing. He kisses the side of your face and whispers words of affection into your ear.

“Thank you for this Frankie, I’ve never had anyone look after me like this.”

“Well I’m gonna take care of you baby, always.”

You both soak in the tub for at least half and hour before the water starts to turn cold.

“Scooch up baby, time to get out.”

Frankie wraps a warm towel around you and carries you into your room, where you both dry and get into comfy clothes.

“I want you to get back into bed baby, I’ve done some homemade chicken soup I’m gonna bring it up to you.”

He kisses you on your forehead before closing the door behind him, you smile after him wondering how you got so lucky to have him in your life.

Permanent tag list: @lunaserenade @anaaaispunk @maievdenoir @elinedjarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @alberta-sunrise @dihra-vesa @pintsizemama @athalien @loserrlauraa @thorins-queen-of-erebor @pascal-rascal424 @ikinmahlen @pascalisthepunkest @dindjarinneedsahug @almaeunice @jediknight122 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @colorlesswhispersunknown @stevie75 @rosie-posie08 @hauntedmama @greeneyedblondie44 @prettylilhalforc @giselatropicana @spanishmossmagnolia @phoenixhalliwell @sherala007 @its--fandom--darling @donnaa @javierpinme @luxmundee @littlemisspascal @hayley-the-comet @ezras-channel-rat

Frankie Morales: @agingerindenial @pureprism21 @icanbeyourjedi @neenieweenie @a-skov @pascalstheway @dobbyjen @afootnoteinyourhappiness @galaxyofmando @aport87 @bport76 @prideandpascal @balekanemohafe @severewobblerlightdragon @hb8301 @dinsangelx

[fangirlwriting-stories]

By Any Other Name

Chapter One

Chapter Nineteen:

Out of all the things Janus had learned recently, the one that was the most immediately relevant was that Remus + emotional trauma = overly peppy.

Janus wasn’t sure how he’d ever missed it before.  The second he managed to limp into the kitchen of the base and saw Remus frying eggs and happily humming, he knew something had to be seriously wrong.

“Remus?” Janus said, trying to muster up any amount of energy to go over and talk to him.

Remus must have known to expect this, though, because he instantly turned to Janus with a bright smile.  “Hi, Janny!  Man, yesterday was something, huh?  Do you want eggs?  I’m also gonna check out the garden that Virgil grew out in the front yard.  He grew watermelons, you want some?”

“Remus—” Janus said weakly.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” Remus called, moving instantly past Janus towards the front doors and leaving the eggs on the stove without bothering to turn it off.

Janus moved over to the stove and finished cooking the eggs, rubbing at his eyes and trying to convince himself to go after Remus.

Come on, your friend is hurting.  You’re going to let him go on doing so because, what, you’re tired?

But he was tired.  Every inch of him ached with the exhaustion of trying to process everything that had happened yesterday.  He didn’t think he had an ounce left to give to anyone else, especially if Remus was going to fight him on it again when he’d said he wouldn’t do that.  But at the same time… what was he supposed to do, leave him?

Janus at least managed to lean on his cane long enough to get the eggs onto two separate plates and onto the table before Remus got back with the watermelon that he definitely was not in a state to enjoy.  He sank down in a chair and rubbed at his leg, which did not like how much he’d been using it.

Should that have been a clue, how much Virgil enjoyed the watermelon?  Should something else have been a clue?  Should he have picked up on the way that Virgil seemed so at home in a place he’d never supposed to have seen before?  Should he have realized that there was a reason he was falling in love with him all over again?

Janus leaned over the table and put his head in his hands.  What did it matter now, really?  He’d lost Virgil again, and this time he had no one to blame but himself.  He didn’t see how they were ever going to manage to get him back.  Even if they succeeded in getting to the shack, they’d have to convince Virgil to come with them, and why would he?

The front door slammed open and Janus lifted his head to see Remus practically bouncing into the kitchen with a watermelon.  “Okay!” he called happily.  “You want some, Janny?”

“Remus,” Janus said.  “Please can we talk?”

“Talk about what?  What would we need to talk about?  Everything’s gonna be okay, right?  We just need to get Virgil back from that thing.  Shouldn’t be too hard, right?  Anyway, I’m going to go get some other of the fruits too, because I think they might be dying soon without Virgil here to take care of them.”

“Remus, please,” Janus said.  “I don’t have the energy to fight you on this.”

“Fight me on what?  I’m fine!  Call me if you need anything, okay?  I can help if you need it.  I’ll be out front!”

“Remus,” Janus said, but Remus was already gone.  Janus leaned over and put his head in his hands again and tried to gather the energy to stand.  But the second he even thought about walking again his leg started to protest.  He just didn’t have anything left right now.

“Uh, Janus?”

Janus pulled his head up to see Roman walking across the room from the entrance, Logan close behind him.  Logan was holding a jar of jam and Roman was holding a piece of paper, both of them clutching them very tightly.  They must have come from Virgil, then.

“Are you okay?” Roman asked as he approached.  “I mean, obviously not, I…”

“Where’s Patton?” Janus asked, because Roman being up early was already strange enough, but being up and here before Patton had to mean the end of days.

“He is on his way here,” Logan said, looking over his shoulder.  “I think.  I… I don’t think he is taking this particularly well.”

“Hey, speaking of,” Roman said, looking back towards the entrance too.  “Do you know why Remus is acting like nothing in the world is wrong?”

Janus’ brain jumped back into desperate mode, because this, at least, was something he could do.  “Roman,” he said.  “Please, can you help him?  He won’t let me, and I don’t think I have it in me to fight him on it, but he needs help, Roman, please.”

“I… yeah,” Roman said, looking surprised.  “I’ll talk to him, Janus.”

“Thank you,” Janus said, leaning over the table again and rubbing at his eyes to try and at least wake himself up.

He wasn’t sure what he expected Roman and Logan to do.  Leave, probably, but after a moment he heard a chair scraping and looked over to see Logan.

“Janus,” he said quietly.  “Are you all right?”

Janus laughed bitterly.  “Well, my leg feels like it’s been ripped in half, and my husband is alive and hates me.  But sure, I’m just peachy.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Roman said instantly.  Janus gave him a skeptical look.

“He doesn’t,” Roman said.  “He still does things that you two loved to do together, and he kept trying to get us to help you.  I think we— kind of misunderstood what he meant by that.”

Janus sighed and looked away.  “What does it matter now?” he muttered.  “We have no way of getting to him.”

“Don’t give up hope so easily, Janus,” Logan said gently.  “I promise you I’m working on it.  I’m not going to stop until we have a way to get to him.”

Roman cleared his throat, and Logan sighed.  “I’m not going to stop unless I need to eat and sleep,” he said, deadpan, as if this was a conversation they’d had many times by now.

“Good,” Roman said.  “We’re no good to Virgil if we show up exhausted and unable to help.”

Janus supposed there was logic in that.  It didn’t mean he was going to be able to rest, though.

“I think for now, I should get back to that, though.  Janus, I might come in here if I need help, is that okay?”

“I’ll tell you when you ask again,” Janus said, rubbing his leg.  Logan nodded, and headed over towards the library.

“I’ll go check on Remus,” Roman said, standing.  “Please call if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Janus said, leaning forward to rest his head on the table.  Roman headed off towards the garden, and he shut the front door after him.

Janus laid there for a few minutes, and then he managed to sit up and eat the eggs on his plate before the door burst open and Remus walked back in.

“You people need to stop worrying about me!” he called behind him, which is when Janus looked behind him to see Roman.  “I’m fine!  It’s not like I’m the one being tortured by a monster!  Shouldn’t we be focused more on that?  Oh, hey, Janus.  Did you need me to wash that?”  He scooped up Janus’ empty plate and started over towards the sink.

“Remus, you’re not going to fool anyone,” Roman said, walking over.

“Of course not, why would I?” Remus called.  “There’s nothing to fool anyone over!  I’m good!”

“You’re not,” Roman said, crossing his arms.

“Well, how would you know?” Remus said, scrubbing the dish a little harder than he probably needed to.  “How would you know what I’m like when I’m not good?  It’s not like you ever bothered to check in!”

Janus grabbed his cane and used it to help himself stand up.

“I… Remus, that’s not the point.”

Remus rinsed the plate and yanked a nearby drawer open too harshly.  “No, of course it’s not,” he said.  “Why would that make any level of difference?  Because who cares how I’m doing?  Who cares whether I’m doing okay?  It’s fine, no one needs to!  Because I’m fine.”  He grabbed a rag and started to dry the dish off very angrily.

“Remus,” Roman said, starting forward again.  “I get it, I know I should have been there more.  But you can’t—”

Remus slammed the dish down in the drying rack hard enough that it shattered into pieces.  “I can’t what, Roman?” he snapped.  “What gives you the right to tell me what I can’t—”

Janus reached Remus’ other side and put a hand on his shoulder.  Remus went still.

“Re,” Janus said.  “Come on.  Stop.”

Remus took a shaky breath and grabbed for Janus’ hand.

“Remus, come on.  It’s going to be easier for both of us if you just let me help you,” Janus murmured, and pulled Remus towards him.

“But he—” Remus said weakly.  “Janus, he—”

“I know,” Janus said, pulling Remus around into a hug.  “I know, Remus.  But you have to talk to someone.  It doesn’t have to be me.  But it has to be someone.”

“Who else am I going to talk to?” Remus said into Janus’ chest.  “I can’t talk to you, you just found out Virgey is alive, you need—”

“So did you,” Janus said.  “Remus, we’ve talked about this before, I…” Janus sighed.  “I don’t have the energy to convince you.  If you need help you have to ask for it.”

Remus grabbed Janus’ shirt and held tightly to it as he started to shake.  “He— Janus, he— Virgil thinks we don’t—”

“I know,” Janus murmured.  “I know, Remus.”

“I love him so much, Janus,” Remus whispered, holding on to Janus tightly. “I missed him.”

Janus squeezed him back.  “I missed him too, Re.”

Eventually Janus’ leg started aching again, and he moved to sit both him and Remus down at the table.  Roman, who had been silent for a long time now, moved over to sit on the other side.

Janus looked up at him, unsure what he was going to do.  But Roman just looked down at the table and sighed.

“I… I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, and Janus blinked in surprise.  He felt Remus shift and look over him, though he imagined he was closer to glaring than Janus was.  “I… Virgil was totally right.  I’ve been a dick.  I didn’t even think about the fact that I was leaving you guys alone to deal with everything, I… fuck.  I’m so sorry.”  Roman pressed his hand over his face and leaned over onto his elbow.

“You weren’t entirely wrong,” Janus said softly.  “I think you were right about trying to keep It alive for revenge.  I came up with that plan because I was angry and I wanted to get rid of my hurt.  I shouldn’t have tried to go about that in a way that might hurt other people.”  Janus gently squeezed Remus’ side.  “Neither of us should have.”

“Yes, but there was a better way to deal with that than leaving you all alone,” Roman said.  “Especially considering—” he stopped.

Janus raised an eyebrow.  “What?”

“I wanted revenge too,” Roman said quietly.  “I was so angry.  I just ended up deciding it wasn’t the right thing to do, especially if people would get hurt.  I assumed you guys would reach that conclusion eventually, but then I never actually, like, helped you in any way.  I just left you alone, and never checked on you or made sure you were okay, or… I’m sorry.”

“I think I should apologize too,” came another quiet voice, and all three of them turned to see Logan standing in the entrance to the kitchen, and Patton just behind him, who must have just arrived.

“I tried to look at this whole situation logically, without letting any feelings about Virgil affect my judgment,” Logan said.  “But that is both impossible and exceedingly stupid.  I should have been making an effort to communicate with everyone and find the most constructive solution to the problem instead of assuming that I knew best.  I sincerely apologize for abandoning the two of you.  Or,” he looked back at Patton.  “The three of you, I think, in a time of need.  I should have been a better friend than that.”

Patton sniffed and wiped at his eyes.  “I think I just thought the problem would magically solve itself when It was gone,” he whispered.  “I didn’t even think I wanted to talk about anything until Virgil called me out on it.  He…” Patton sniffed again.  “He was hurting so much, and he still tried to help me.”

Janus looked away and tried to quell the sharp rise of guilt and hurt in his chest.  Unsurprisingly, he didn’t succeed.

“We should have been helping you already, Patton,” Roman said weakly, and Logan nodded in agreement.

“Roman is correct,” he said.  “The two of us talked about Virgil, possibly too much in all honesty, as I think it ended up creating an echo chamber where we both just agreed with each other far too much.  But either way, we should have included you in those conversations.  We should not have left you to hurt.  None of us should have left anyone to hurt.”

“Virgil’s still hurting,” Remus said quietly, and everyone looked at him.  “All over again.”

Janus turned and pulled Remus into another hug, which Remus returned instantly.  Roman moved next, and Janus wasn’t sure if he should tell him to stop or not, but the second Remus noticed him approaching he just grabbed him and pulled him close.  Patton joined not long after by hugging Janus’ opposite side, being gentle with his leg, and Janus was pretty sure Logan had moved behind them all if the hand on his back was any indication.

Janus was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one who very distinctly felt the absence of a sixth person who should have been there.  But this was what they should have done months ago, and he wasn’t going to refuse to appreciate it now.

They were going to have to get him back.  They could do it.  And then they would all have more apologies to make.  Janus probably more than most.  But he’d already lost his husband twice now, and he wasn’t going to get him back just to lose him a third time.

“Remus,” Janus whispered and Remus shifted to show he was listening.  “We are not going to leave Virgil to hurt either.”

“We aren’t,” Patton agreed, his voice firm and more determined than Janus expected from him.  “We’re going to go get him back.  We’ll make sure he’s safe.  And that he knows that we do love him.  And then,” Patton said, his voice dropping.  Janus decided whoever heard that tone of voice coming from Patton should fear for their life.  “We are going to burn It to the ground.  And It is never going to hurt anyone ever again.”

Janus wouldn’t have believed it was Patton who said that if he hadn’t been sitting right there to hear it.  He couldn’t necessarily say he disagreed, but he definitely hadn’t expected to hear such from him.  But no one else seemed to be disagreeing either, which meant that for once, they were all on the same page.  And all it took was realizing that Virgil was alive and being tortured by the creature they couldn’t decide what to do with.  Who knew?

They were going to have to help Logan with his research later, and figure out the best way to go about what they needed to, and how to do it quickly.  But for now, all of them stayed pressed against each other, shedding more than a few tears, and taking in the feeling of support that they had been sorely lacking in.  For a very little time, it would do.

Chapter Twenty

[d0llpie]

Heyy, this idea just pop up in my mind out of nowhere 😂. So here's the thing:

Some hcs with bokuto, kuroo, akaashi and daichi about their chubby s/o forgot to bring towel to the bathroom before she goes take a bath 😂 she was like " why would i forgot the damn thing?". So she had to run naked to the wardrobe, but that doesn't go unnoticed by her boyfriend. Slightly nsfw 👀 or not. Whatever you want about the concept, but i will be glad if you do write this idea of mine 😂

P/s: i love your works 😆

Forgetting your towel

kuroo x reader, bokuto x reader, daichi x reader, akaashi x reader

warnings: nsfw, nothing really explicit, cursing

a/n: hiii, thank you so much! <3, this idea was really cute thank you for the request

wc: 1.8k

Akaashi

- Akaashi had a lot of work to do for his boss so you knew he wouldn’t be able to spend a lot of time with you today

- You took this as an opportunity to do a self-care day since you’d also been pretty stressed lately

- You started by making yourself a nice breakfast while watching a couple episodes of a show you liked while you ran a bath

- You cleaned up quickly and put on a face mask as you got in the bath, you felt like you were forgetting something so you lit some candles and played some music

- You texted Akaashi asking if the music was too loud but got no reply so you decided it was fine and relaxed into the bath

- You were humming along softly to the music, it was getting pretty hot so you decided you’d get out in a minute. You looked over to the towel rack to see it empty

- You texted Akaashi again to bring you a towel but again got no response, you huffed stepping out of the bath, taking off your face mask before cracking open the door

- The wardrobe with the towels was only a few metres away past Akaashi’s office and you figured you could quickly run there and grab a towel

- Akaashi had finished editing a chapter and decided he probably should take a break now, he checked his phone to see a message from you and smiled, he got up to go get you a towel

- You reached the wardrobe and took out a towel, closing the door to see Akaashi standing there, now blushing as he looked down at you

- “Oh you got my message..” “Yeah..” you went to wrap the towel around you but Akaashi grabbed it from your hands “I’m taking a break...” he grabbed your hips, kneading the flesh softly, pulling you into him

- “Kaashi, i’m still wet” you complained but he only laughed at that, “I hope you are” he chuckled again, squeezing your waist before attaching his lips to yours, smiling against you

- “Is there still water in the bath?” you nodded before kissing him again, he stumbled with you towards the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head while trying to keep his lips attached to yours as much as possible

- “Kaashi you’re going to fall slow down” you giggled as he struggled to take his pants off, stepping into the bath and holding your hand as you stepped in.

- He sat you in his lap as the water engulfed you both. He attached his lips to your neck while running his hands over your thighs. “I’m glad you sent me that text darling” you both giggled before smiling back into another deep kiss.

Kuroo

- Kuroo texted you telling you he’d be home a little later but he wanted to take you on a stargazing date since he hadn’t taken you out in a while

- You were excited and hopped into the bath to relax and get ready before kuroo got home

- Kuroo was at work, trying to finish his work as quickly as possible to get home to you on time, he missed you and wanted to do something nice for the both of you

- He finished quickly and smiled before heading home, sending you a quick message

- Your message chimes in your bedroom while you were still in the bathroom.

- You realised you forgot a towel so you got out of the bath to go and get one, not caring since you were home alone.

- Kuroo was walking towards your shared bedroom when you strolled out of the bathroom, completely naked and not noticing his presence

- He watched as you took a towel out of the wardrobe before turning to face him and screaming out of shock, dropping your towel in the process

- “Tetsu what the hell?” you scrambled to get your towel as he walked over to you in long strides, laughing at your flustered reaction

- “If this is what i get for coming home early i’m gonna be more motivated to do my work” he laughed again as you wrapped the towel around your body hastily

- “Hi baby” he tilted your chin up to kiss you sweetly, pulling you into him by the small of your back, moving his other hand down further

- “hii” you smiled as he picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he smiled back at you

- “I was excited for our date tonight, i’ve missed you, now i’m realising how much more i miss you” he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as he rubbed one of his hands over your back

- “I think you should just wear this honestly you look so hot right now” he squeezed the underside of your thigh, still holding you up

- You laughed before pecking his lips “let me get ready baby” he reluctantly put you down, smacking your ass as you walked back into the bathroom, smirking at your glare

- “Tetsu what should i wear?” you walked back into the bedroom to find Kuroo lying on the bed scrolling on his phone. “Wear the towel baby i told you” you rolled your eyes before slipping on a dress

- “Okay i was wrong you look even better in that” you laughed at him, doing a spin as he grabbed your hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed, resting his face on your stomach, massaging your ass with his hands

- “C’mon mister get ready” “you should take a bath and forget your towel every time i’m at work” you slapped his shoulder gently “i’ll get ready if you promise too” you rolled your eyes pushing yourself away from him “fine.”

Bokuto

- Bokuto had come home from training only to find the house seemingly empty

- “y/n?” he wandered further into the house, seeing the light on in the bathroom before knocking softly “y/n, i’m home baby”

- “Hi bo!” you called out from the bath after hearing his knocks, “i just got in dont worry i won’t be too long though” you started playing some music “okay, i’m gonna start dinner” you hummed in acknowledgement, relaxing into the water

- Bokuto was busy making dinner when you realised you had forgotten a towel, “Bo can you grab me a towel?” you called out

- Over the sound of your music and the stove cooking dinner, Bokuto couldn’t hear you asking him for a towel

- You grumbled, stepping out of the water and exiting the bathroom. You walked through the hallway down to the cupboard to grab a towel

- Bokuto heard the bathroom door and came into the hallway ready to take a shower himself, he turned to see you, fully naked staring at him

- “Baby if you were in the mood we could’ve just had a bath together!” despite how confident he sounded, his face was bright red and his eyes were shamelessly taking in your figure

- “Sorry kou, i just forgot a towel is all” you pulled a towel from the wardrobe and wrapped it around yourself as Bo pouted

- “Oh okay..” he still stood in the hallway just staring at you without making any effort to move out of your way

- “Come here bo” you rolled your eyes and smiled at him, opening your arms as he ran up to you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you into a hug

- He spun you around in his arms, pressing kisses all over your face “let’s have dinner later baby” he started carrying you to the bedroom before you stopped him

- “Bo you need to shower too!” he frowned before heading to the bathroom, still carrying you in his arms

- “Just wait here okay, you don’t need to wear the towel you know” you laughed at him as he got in the shower “I’m not just going to stand here naked, i need to dry off” you went to exit the bathroom

- “where are you going ?” “i’m going to get you a towel Bo” he opened the shower door, grabbing your wrist to stop you from leaving “No i can just use yours” you rolled your eyes again

- “oh my god Bo just move over” you dropped the towel and stepped into the shower with him, letting the warm water run over you.

- “Hi~” he smiled down at you, pulling your body against his as he sighed out happily “hi bo” you giggled into his chest

Daichi

- You and Daichi had been dating a while yet, he had a spare key to your apartment and frequently came over to have dinner or just spend time with you.

- He rarely ever came over unannounced but he had had a long day at work and wanted to cuddle up with you for the night.

- He was desperate to see you so he came over as soon as his shift ended, forgetting to send you a text prior

- You were getting out of the bath, knowing you forgot a towel to go and get one. You slipped out into the hallway almost falling back in surprise when you were met with your boyfriend standing there with his mouth open and eyes down

- You quickly covered your body as best you could before shrieking “jesus dai- you scared the shit out of me.” he chuckled before prying your arms away from you

- “Do you walk around naked a lot? i’m not complaining it’s just- i dont know i could get used to this” you giggled at that as he placed his hands just above your hips, massaging the flesh gently

- “Sorry to disappoint but i just forgot a towel.” you leant up to kiss him softly “How come you’re here, not that i’m complaining”, he continued massaging your torso, grabbing whenever he could to calm himself down

- “Tough day at work, i’m already feeling better tho, thank you love” he sighed out in exhaustion, pulling you against him and cupping your head

- “No need to thank me, c’mon i’ll quickly get dressed and we can cuddle and watch a movie okay?” you smoothed your hands over his shoulder, trying to ease him into un-tensing them.

- “thank you love” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, squeezing you tightly for a second before releasing you to get changed.

- You changed and went to your bed, climbing under the covers with your back to Daichi as he placed your laptop in front of you both

- He draped his arm over your waist, resting his hand against your stomach, smiling against the back of your head, drifting off to sleep with you in his arms as you watched the movie

[zombiesbecrazy]

✿ after a very exhausting week dick can’t even do a simple task right, he needs constant supervision.

Dick knew that a watched pot wouldn’t boil but this was getting ridiculous.

All he wanted was a bowl of over cooked, unseasoned plain fusilli pasta and then to go to bed but the damn water wouldn’t heat up, with not a bubble to be seen.

He wondered how often Clark must use his heat vision when cooking. How long would it take? Could he heat to a specific temperature? If he asked Clark to adopt him right now would he get Kryptonian citizenship, and therefore inheriting laser eye functionality, to heat up his water faster than it was currently taking? He blinked at the idea and laughed softly. How tired was he if he thought that he could get super powers through adoption?

Even if it did work like that, he’d have to be un-adopted by Bruce first and the paperwork would take forever.

He frowned again at the stove, still unsure which would to be faster.

Maybe the water was broken. Could water break? Was it too late to call Garth to ask?

“Richard?” Damian voice was rough with sleep and he was rubbing his eyes as he entered the kitchen and Dick felt a little guilty about probably waking him up. “I thought you had gone to bed.”

“Hungry.” Dick turned back to the stove and stirred the water with a fork a few times. “Making pasta.” He touched the side of the pot, still cold to the touch. “Or at least trying to.”

Trying and not succeeding.

Damian cast his eyes to the appliance and then back at Dick, frown creasing between his brows. He reached over to the dials, turning the one on the far left to the right with a click. “That may help.”

The element under the pot started to glow red almost immediately. “Well now I just feel stupid.”

“No.” Damian flicked Dick on the arm. “No one calls my brother stupid.”

“You have called me stupid on multiple occasions.”

“I may have said that a decision you had made was stupid, and I stand by it. You, however, are not stupid. Just exhausted.” He eyed his older brother critically, and Dick could feel him inventorying what he saw, mentally preparing a list to report to Alfred to tattle on him. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Dunno. Had a nap yesterday.” Dick shut his right eye. It was easier to think that way, but even still his brain was foggy. “Maybe.” It was entirely possible that it had been the day before. Or last week.

“Your water is boiling.” Dick must have spaced out or taken too long to react because Damian gently shoved him towards the living room, momentum causing Dick to stumble in the direction of his couch. “Go sit. I’ll look after this.” He sniffed as he examined the items laid out on the counter. “I assume that you want your normal awful excuse for pasta?”

It had been an ongoing debate with everyone in Dick’s life for as long as he could remember. It wasn’t that he was against pasta sauce or seasoning – in fact, he was a very big fan of that – but there was something comforting that he found in just boiled noodles.

Safe with no surprises, and after the week that he had had, no surprises was exactly what he needed.

“Yeah.” He settled down onto the cushions and let his head fall back. “And it isn’t awful. It’s plain.”

“It’s a disgrace to pasta. It isn’t even authentic. It’s a generic brand out of a box.”

“And I’m okay with that.”

It may be an ongoing thing for the family to tease him about, but everyone also just accepted that it was Dick’s comfort meal.

He must have dozed off because he work up when a warm bowl was placed in his hands. Damian sat beside him with his own bowl, looking equally as unseasoned as Dick’s. They both ate slow forkfuls silently, staring at the black screen of the off television.

“Do you like it?” Dick always thought that pasta in spirals tasted better than non-spiraled pasta and this did not disappoint.

“It’s edible,” said Damian, taking another bite and shrugging as he swallowed. “Slimy. It needs a flavour. I do not care which one.” Dick laughed, and Damian grinned in return. “Did I make it to your satisfaction?”

Dick ate another bite of his meal. It tasted exactly as it always did – like safety, home and perfection. He shifted lower into the cushions and leaned his head against Damian’s shoulder, feeling sleep pulling at him again and he was finally ready to give into it. “It's exactly what I needed.”

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝐷𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)

Warnings: NSFW content including marking, lactation kink, pregnancy sex. Older Ateez but age differences is still within legal boundaries. Allusions to infidelity (which I do not condone nor encourage)

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

"Y/N. Come on. You gotta focus."

In a futile attempt to try to get his favorite student to get divert her attention back to the screen in front of her, instead he was met by her arms which suddenly wrapped around him.

"Baby, this assignment is due in two days and you haven't even gotten one paragraph down."

Frowning and in need of affection, Y/N didn't budge and instead attempted to pull Hongjoong on top of her.

"I want you to cuddle me!" She demanded.

Hongjoong quickly caught himself before he toppled over her and accidentally put all his weight on the bump that was growing in her.

"And I'll cuddle you all you want.... but can you at least finish part of this?"

Realizing she wasn't going to give up anytime soon, Hongjoong reluctantly gave in and finally settled her on his lap, one arm wrapped around her shoulders while the other caressed the top of her swollen belly.

Not thinking too much about the tiny kisses she was placing along the side of his neck, Hongjoong tilted his head back to rest on the couch and closed his eyes, his body succumbing to the exhaustion of having to teach back at the school in the morning and coming back to help out his pregnant girlfriend. Taking advantage of his unguarded state, Y/N smirked before she latched her mouth onto a certain spot on his neck, sinking her teeth down and sucking on it harshly. Once Hongjoong realized what was happening, his eyes shot up and he carefully tried to pry Y/N off him, proving it to be more difficult since he couldn't use force in fear of hurting her.

"What the fuck Y/N?!" Hongjoong exclaimed when he came back from the bathroom, hand touching the very obvious mark left on his neck.

"I'm sorry. Couldn't help myself." She feigned an innocent smile.

"How am I supposed to go back to the school tomorrow with this on display for everyone to see? How will I even explain it?" He could already imagine the other teachers and students staring at it, the first group no doubt would be nosey and ask about it.

With a cocky grin, Y/N opened her laptop up again.

"Maybe now some of those hags will back off after they realize you're taken."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Coming back after a long day at the courthouse dealing with all the divorce shit, Seonghwa felt like he needed to release some stress or he'd go insane. Coming into the kitchen, he found you quietly standing over the stove, no doubt making food for both of you to eat. You giggled when you felt his hands embrace your large belly, you weren't that far along, but holy hell, carrying twins was something else.

"Have I ever told you you're so beautiful?" He whispered in your ear, teeth grazing against the shell of it. Of course your body was more reactive and sensitive to any touch because your hormones were all over the place. Seonghwa knew that as well and he loved playing with that fact.

Pulling you away from the kitchen, he guided you over to the couch and sat you down. You didn't even question him as he pushed your dress up and slid your panties down, you knew what he was aiming for. You simply inhaled deeply when his mouth began kissing along your inner thighs.

"I hope you don't mind babygirl, but I just really wanted to eat you out."

You nodded at him, resting your elbows on top of some of the cushions so it'd be more comfortable for you. Prying your legs apart as much as they could, Seonghwa carefully placed his mouth on your clit. Starting off with gentle suckles, they soon progressed to more sloppy and intense tongue movements, his lewd slurping sounds mixed in with your soft panting and moaning, setting the mood across the room. Another thing you loved about Seonghwa, he was an expert at oral sex, none of your younger past lovers compared to him in the slightest bit.

Seonghwa let out an accomplished groan when your juices stained all over his face and chin. Pulling away, he himself was panting by how breathless he was left, and he felt proud to see you in an equally similar state as him. Chuckling, he came up and kissed you hungrily, wanting you to taste yourself on his lips. He only pulled away momentarily to tease you.

"I didn't mean to eat my dessert before the meal, but I'm not sorry in the slightest bit."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Yunho didn't even know how to react. Coming home and finding it quiet as usual, he guessed you probably took a nap as you normally did around this time, the pregnancy causing you to become more tired than usual. That's why when he came into the room he was shocked to see you moving underneath the blankets. Your frustrated moans give a big hint as to what was happening.

"Y/N?"

Your eyes shot wide open and your head peeped out from under the covers. You suddenly felt so embarrased, your face turning bright red. You tossed over to the other side, hiding your face away from Yunho. Being the sweetheart he was, he went over to your side and caressed your figure.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you." He apologized although he wasn't in the wrong.

Whining loudly, you punched the mattress underneath you.

"Stupid hormones driving me crazy. And my stupid fingers can't get around this huge belly." You complained as you looked down at the mound that stuck out through the blanket.

Not able to keep himself from smiling, Yunho's hand rested itself on your covered belly.

"It's cute though." He assured you.

Looking up at him, you bit your lip before asking him.

"Yunho.....could you please just......you know..?" You don't know why but you felt shy asking him about it especially given that you were pregnant by him nonetheless.

Yunho looked hesitant. He had fears about being intimate with you in your state, but he also felt bad that you had to go through this. Sighing softly, he scratched the back of your head.

"On our next visit, let's ask the doctor about if it's safe or not? Ok?"

Expecting your pouty face, Yunho pulled the covers off you, swallowing hard when he saw your beautiful, round pregnant body on display for him.

"But for now, are you ok with me using my fingers?"

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Looking down at the pot filled with who knows what that Yeosang stirred which was bubbling rather oddly, your best bet was that he definitely didn't. The reddened cheeks that formed on his face was another telltale sign.

"Trust me honey. I got this."

Right as he said that, some of the contents spilled out, nearly burning the both of you. Luckily Yeosang draped an arm protectively around your barely noticeable bump and moved you back so neither of you were harmed. Instead, the floor became the victim. Having enough shenanigans from your caring lover, you reached over and quickly shut off the stove before anymore accidents happened.

"There goes my chances of wooing you over with my cooking skills." He snorted softly, but he felt bad that he couldn't even make a simple meal for you.

Wanting to cheer him up, you hugged his waist, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

"You've already won my heart over Mr. Kang, there's nothing left for you to claim."

Although he felt comforted by your words, there was something else he needed to hear.

"You know how I feel. Now go on... say my name." He commanded you.

Pecking his lips, you gave in. "Yeosang."

You let out a squeak when he pressed you against the counter, pulling you into a deeper kiss that was getting more and more heated. Your moment was interrupted when someone suddenly came into the scene, startling you both.

"Oh God Damian! You scared me man." Yeosang let out a relieved sigh when he saw it was only his trusted butler.

"Rest assured sir, I saw nothing and heard nothing." He smirked at them.

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

You grunted as you stripped yourself out of your shirt, the material feeling too confining and making your breasts feel more sore than they already felt. Standing in front of the mirror, you noticed how your breasts were practically popping out of the top of your bra.

"Sannie! Could you come help me out?" You called out to him.

"Yes my lovely baby mama?" He poked his head into the room, always ready to help you out if you needed it.

"Could you please unhook my bra, I can't reach."

Happy to help you, he came up behind you, eyes focused as he began undoing all of the hooks.

"Are they hurting you baby?" Looking up at the mirror, he saw your pouty face nodding at him.

"Would you like me to massage them for you?" He offered.

"Please." You begged, loving how gentle his hands were whenever he touched them.

Releasing your breasts out of their tight confinement, both you and San were in shock when tiny droplets of liquid gushed out of your nipples.

"Holy shit Y/N, are you already lactating?"

San stared at your breasts in amazement. Keeping his eyes focused on the mirror in front of you guys, his hands came up to gently squeeze your breasts, that tiny action making more milky substance to come out of you. You saw how San licked his lips and it gave you an idea. Tilting your head, you gave him a kiss on his jaw before telling him:

"Wanna suck on them?"

San looked shocked at your suggestion, but then he returned you around and pressed his face against your chest.

"Fuck yeah."

Not even thinking twice, San took one of your tits into his mouth, humming in pleasure as he sucked some of your milk into his mouth.

"We should make this a regular occurrence."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi released soft and blissful sighs as he felt your body move on top of him. His hands held onto your hips, helping you set a slow and sensual pace as you grinded against his dick.

"You feeling good baby?" He asked, making sure you weren't uncomfortable or in pain.

Your only response was your head being thrown back as you spewed out moans from your throat. It seemed the pregnancy heightened your sensitivity, so every move against Mingi's pelvis felt absolutely amazing, especially when he reached a hand over to rub at your clit. He always made sure you felt as much pleasure as possible.

"That's it, there you go babygirl." Mingi himself was enjoying the change in your sex life. Ever since you both found out you were pregnant, you had to halt your rather kinky and intense fucking sessions and replaced them with more soft and romantic love making. Which neither of you minded, it felt much more intimate and helped you both bond even closer to each other.

"Are you close my little lady? I can feel you squeeze tighter around my cock."

Although you were indeed close, you didn't want to cum just yet, not without asking you something first.

"Mingi......please....spank my ass." You turned your head so you could partially see his face from behind you.

Mingi blinked slowly at your request, unsure of what to do. Wanting to please you, he took one hand off your hip and used it to lightly spank the top of your ass. Although it was a rather tame slap, it was enough for you to start cumming on top of him. Mingi of course held you up, continuing to bury his cock inside you, sliding in and out so he could help make your high last longer til eventually he himself was cumming up into you. Making sure both of you were satisfied, he pulled you off him so he could clean you up.

"So I see you still become a mess when someone spanks you." He teased you, moving some hair out of your face so he could properly kiss you.

"Hey, I'm still your little brat even if I'm carrying our soon to be brat."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Wooyoung slid the tip of his cock against your folds. Although he was anxious to be inside you once again, he had to make sure you were all right and not uncomfortable in any shape or form.

"You sure about this baby? We could try something else if you'd like." He assured you, one hand coming down to gently press against your pregnant belly.

"I'm fine Wooyoung. I just wanna feel your cock inside me again. It's been too long and I need it." You whined out, desperate to get some sort of release through something that wasn't from Wooyoung's tongue or fingers, although they always left you satisfied.

Wooyoung was extremely careful and slow as he plunged himself into you from behind, both of you moaning out loud when were connected once again after a long time. Pulling out once more, Wooyoung made sure to go easy on you, his fingers kneading the soft flesh of your hips and ass as he moved to and fro with leisurely yet deep strokes into you.

"Fuck! You feel so good!" You couldn't help but exclaim as you felt every vein and ridge of his dick hitting deep inside your tight walls.

"You missed this didn't you babygirl? Missed being my little toy?" He couldn't hide the smirk on his face as he went slightly harder against her but not so much. Reaching one hand over, his fingers rubbed at her clit, knowing it would drive her crazy.

"Y-yes! I missed this." You gasped out, unable to think about anything except Wooyoung's dick inside you.

"You dirty girl, even after I get you all knocked up, you still want to get fucked by me."

Rubbing his fingers faster against your clit, his other hand held onto your hip so he could angle himself to hit against your g-spot, brushing his tip over and over again on it so he could send you cumming all over him.

"But that's ok, I'll make sure to fuck another baby into you if that's what you want."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Opening your eyes, you smiled shyly as you woke up to your husband's face sleeping soundly next to you, one of his buff and strong arms was thrown over your body, laying protectively on your bump. Gently prying his hand off you without disturbing him, you quietly got out of the bed and walked out into the balcony of your hotel room, not bothering to cover up your naked body with a robe or anything.

You felt free, truly free as you gazed out at the beautiful scenery of the beach in front of you, a quick getaway place you and Jongho chose as your honeymoon destination after you both literally eloped not even 2 days ago. You wondered what were your parents and former fiancee thinking now, no doubt they were probably looking all over for you or were barely finding out the secret you two had kept for so long.

But you couldn't bring yourself to care. You didn't regret anything, if anything you would have regretted everything if you hadn't escaped with Jongho, whom you hadn't noticed had woken up until you felt his hands on your hips.

"Look at you little vixen coming out here wearing absolutely nothing. What? Did you want anyone passing by to see you standing here all nude?" His tone let you know he wasn't mad, he was simply poking fun at you.

"Hmmm maybe? Would it make you jealous to know someone who isn't you saw me like this?" You joked back at him, pushing your ass back onto him, a grin on your face when you felt his dick poke at your hip, letting you know that he too came out with no clothes on.

"On the contrary my little vixen, you wanted to give them a show?" You bit your lip when he began kissing your shoulder and neck, aligning himself at your entrance.

"I'll make sure we both give them a show."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[syllvane]

breakfast- natahsa romanoff x reader

a/n: this was requested by anon! this is 4.5k words.

You still haven’t gotten used to the quiet that comes with half of the population being gone, but you can’t quite remember what it was like before either- you vaguely remember the hustle and bustle of life before the Blip, but that's all it’s become. A memory, one that seems to become harder to recall each and every day.

���What are you doing here so early?”

You nearly dropped the groceries that you had been holding, startled by Natasha’s voice in the hallway leading into the kitchen.

“You scared me- you’re lucky I wasn’t holding the eggs or something.”

Natasha looked at you somewhat amused, making her way into the kitchen and leaning against one of the counters.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You glanced at her, smiling before turning back to where you were unloading the groceries.

“I was going to surprise you with breakfast, though I suppose it was silly to think I could surprise a spy.”

You didn’t miss the small smile that appeared on her face as you started unloading the groceries anyways, getting ready to cook.

“Silly, maybe, but also sweet. What can I do to help?” Natasha asked and you shook your head, pointing at her with the plastic spoon you had grabbed.

“Sit down, you’ve been doing a lot these past couple months- too much, I would argue. Let me do something for you.”

“You’re selling yourself short. You’ve been doing a lot around here as well,” Natasha protested and you gave her a pointed look before going back to cooking.

“If you really want to do something, then you can make us coffee. But nothing else. I want you to relax.”

“Coffee, I can do that,” She mumbled, springing into action, her arm brushing against yours as she filled up the coffee maker with hot water.

The next time you try to surprise her with breakfast is a little under a week later and when you walk into the Avengers compound, you are met with the smell of freshly cooked breakfast.

Damn her.

You walked into the kitchen, still carrying groceries, to see that Natasha had cooked what could only be described as a feast.

She looked at you, proud that she had one-upped you.

“How did you know?” You asked her, simply setting the groceries to the side.

She looked at you as if she was considering whether to lie or not.

“I didn’t,” She said honestly and almost a bit sheepishly. “I cooked every morning hoping that you’d show up one of these days. I know it’s silly.”

“It’s not, it’s…” You looked over the different plates of food as if one of them held the right words. “It’s incredibly sweet. I’ll make the coffee?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Breakfast becomes a regular occurrence for the two of you and although half of the universe had to disappear for the two of you to grow closer, you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“Hey,” Natasha said, drawing your attention as the two of you washed dishes side by side, your arms touching each other. “I’m going to have to cancel our breakfast date on Thursday. I think I may have a lead on Clint and so I want to go and see it for myself.”

“You want company?” You asked without hesitation and she looked at you.

“I don’t want to bother you and besides, I don’t think anything will come of it.”

“Okay well, one, you could never bother me, and two, even if nothing comes out of it, you shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

She didn’t say anything, though a small smile appeared on her face as she loaded the last of the plates and bowls into the dishwasher.

Though the prospect of you coming with seemed to make her happy for reasons she didn’t quite understand, she pushed you away.

“I’ll be fine alone, I promise.”

“Okay, if you promise,” You said, flicking a bit of the soapy water at her.

She stopped moving and looked at you incredulously.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Did what, this?” You asked, doing it again, more boldly this time

She looked at you and though everything about her face screamed ‘serious’, her eyes were alight with playfulness.

She stalked back over towards the sink and although you backed away and lifted your arms to protect yourself, she splashed you nonetheless.

Grabbing the nearest ingredient towards you, you lifted a hand full of flour and aimed it towards her.

“You don’t have to do this,” She said, walking towards you slowly with her hands lifted up as if she was surrendering. “Just drop-”

Before she can finish her sentence, you threw the flour at her.

Her face is covered in flour, clumps of it sticking to her face where you had splashed water previously and she stared at you in surprise, a smile still on her face.

Before you could even process what she was doing, she had her own handful of flour and threw it onto you, the flour coating your clothes and face, as well as the counters and the floor.

You lunged for the flour but she caught your wrist, your eyes meeting hers.

You reached your other hand towards it and she caught that as well, pulling you close to her, closer than you had ever been to her.

“Don’t,” She said softly, her eyes bright. “Don’t start a fight that you can’t win.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” You asked and she let go of your wrists, letting your hands fall back to your side and taking a step backwards.

“We should clean this up- Steve’s going to throw a fit if he sees this mess.”

“You have a meeting in a little bit, you can go. I got this.”

“Nonsense, I threw just as much flour as you. You take the island and the counters, I’ll take the cabinets and floors. It’ll get done quicker this way.”

“Nat-”

“Just… let me help you. Please.”

“You’re impossible,” You said but didn’t protest against her helping any longer.

As Natasha pointed out, the kitchen was completely clean in half of the time that it would’ve taken for your to clean it alone, leaving Natasha more than enough time to change her clothes and to get any remnants of flour off of her face and out of her hair before her meeting.

Well, almost all of it.

“Nat, wait!” You yelled, running after her before she turned the holographs on.

She turned and looked at you, concerned.

“What is it?”

“You just had a little…”

You got close to her and using your thumb, you wiped some flour off of her face that she hadn’t noticed.

“Thank you,” She said softly and the two of you just stood there like that for a couple of seconds before you pulled yourself away.

“Right. Have a good meeting, Natasha,” You said before turning away, not waiting for her response.

That’s the last time you have a full conversation with her before she goes looking for Clint.

You’re almost done making breakfast when she enters through the front door, looking worn out and exhausted, dropping her bag onto the floor.

She continued into the kitchen, blinking when she noticed you staring at her and the food that you had already set onto the table.

“How did you…” She sniffed, wiping her nose, searching for the words.

You turned the stove burner off and closed the distance between the two of you, pulling her into a tight hug.

She hugged you back just as tightly as if you were a lifeboat and she was drowning in the middle of the ocean.

“I don’t know who he is anymore. I don’t… I don’t recognize the man who did those things.”

“I know, Nat.”

“And he acts like we didn’t lose everything as well. We lost everything as well and yet, we continue, no matter how much we’ve lost, because we don’t have the luxury of playing vigilante. Some of us have a world that we’re trying to put back together, you know?”

“I know,” You said softly.

She doesn’t say anything for a while, just stands there in your arms.

“I miss Yelena. I miss Alexei and Melina. I miss them so much it feels like I’m just drowning in it. Like it’s just going to swallow me whole one day.”

“Tell me about them.”

And so she does.

She tells you about Ohio and about life in between her time in the Red Room. She tells you about the destruction of the Red Room and about Yelena buying and giving to Natasha the first item of clothing that she had ever bought. She tells you about forest stars and photo booths and blue hair dye.

She tells you more than she has ever told anyone else, more than she will ever tell anyone else.

And eventually, she lets go.

Her face is red from tears, but neither of you point it out, both of you sitting down at the table and eating breakfast.

“I think this is the first proper meal I’ve had in days,” She said and you frowned at her, your eyes narrowing.

“You need to take better care of yourself. When was the last time you slept?”

She looked away from your eyes, back towards the plate of food.

“Haven’t since I left,” She said quietly, her eyes flickering back up towards yours to see your reaction.

The creases by your eyes deepened.

“Natasha-”

“In all fairness, I was going to go to sleep as soon as I got back, but someone surprised me with breakfast,” She said, punctuating her sentence with a forkful of food.

“Okay, but we’re going to sleep right after you’re done, okay?”

“‘We’?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m tired too,” You said sheepishly and in her tiredness, she did not push you further on it.

She pushed her plate away from her a little, standing up and taking your hand.

“We can do dishes later. Let’s go to sleep,” She said and you stood up, letting her lead you to her bedroom.

She pulled you onto her bed and you fell asleep in her arms, which was somehow only the second most romantic thing you had done with Natasha Romanoff.

The first was, of course, falling in love with her.

If someone had asked you to point out a specific month or day that you had fallen in love with her, you wouldn’t know where to begin.

Months of friendship blended together with something more and you weren’t quite sure where your feelings for her began and where they ended, where they had transitioned into something more, something greater.

It didn’t really matter, you supposed- months passed since her return from looking for Clint and things continued on as normal, with breakfasts and small touches, gestures from her that could be easily misconstrued as something more than friendship.

You didn’t mind the closeness though, the way her hands always seemed to graze over yours when reaching for the same thing or the way her arm would touch yours when the two of you did the dishes.

You didn’t mind it, just wished for more of it. Wished that she would just take your hand outright one day.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay? Dinner is a little out of your wheelhouse,” Natasha joked and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m sure I’ll manage. Is it just Steve that’s coming tonight or are we getting the whole gang back together?”

“Just Steve, I’m pretty sure. Banner might come as well, but Pepper and Tony aren’t coming for sure.”

“Well, at least that minimizes the chances of a fight breaking out.”

“I can start throwing punches if needed,” She offered and you looked at her, a small smile on your lips.

“Appreciate the offer, but I think we’re good.”

“Well, if you change your mind…”

“I’ll let you know,” You smiled. “Now are you going to help me make dinner or not?”

The two of you easily fell into a rhythm while you cooked, anticipating each other’s needs before the other even said anything. Natasha would open her mouth to ask for a knife to find that you were already setting it down beside her.

“You know, I think we make a good team,” You said, your hands on your hips as you looked over all the hard work that the two of you had done.

Natasha wiped her hands on a towel before standing beside you, nodding.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this kitchen used before, not like this,” Steve noted, standing in the doorway behind the two of you.

Though both of you were well-trained in stealth and surveillance, you almost jumped when you heard Steve’s voice.

“Don’t sneak up on us like that!” You scolded Steve and before you even asked for it, Natasha handed you the towel that she had been holding and you threw it at him.

He held his hands up in defense, the corners of his eyes creasing as he smiled. He caught it with ease and set it down on the island.

“Now, there’s no need for violence. It smells great in here, I didn’t think I’d ever see the day where she would be cooking,” He said, motioning towards Natasha.

“She’s working on it,” You joked and Natasha gave you a pointed look, suddenly wishing that she still had her towel. She settled for swatting at your arm with her hand. “Hey! Like the old man said, no need for violence. I was just joking.”

“What, I’m five minutes late and you guys are already fighting?” Bruce asked, walking in the front door.

“You came!” You smiled widely, walking over to the scientist and hugging him.

Steve looked back at Natasha.

“Can you believe that? He gets a hug and I get a towel thrown at me.”

Natasha let out a breathy laugh.

“You startled her, that was your first mistake.”

Steve smiled as well before grabbing one of the various dishes that the two of you had made and bringing it to the dining table.

Natasha started moving the dishes as well, giving a small, cursory nod to Bruce as he sat down.

You swatted at Steve’s arm.

“Dude, you need to sit down. You’re a guest.”

Steve looked at Natasha, pointing at you.

“Do you see this? She’s going to injure me.”

You shot him a playful glare before helping Natasha with the rest of the dishes and the silverware, setting plates down in front of everyone and taking a seat next to Natasha, across from Steve and Bruce.

Dinner started off lighthearted, the four of your digging into the food.

You talked of past stories and past missions and science and of everything but the unavoidable present, the reality that everyone had been stuck in for more than a year now.

It seemed crazy when you thought about it like that, that half of the population had been gone for over a year, a full rotation around the sun without some of your favorite people.

It was dark outside when the conversation shifted.

“So, how have you guys been with… everything?” Natasha asked and a hush fell around the table.

“I don’t know if it’ll ever get any easier,” Steve said honestly.

“I don’t know how it could get worse,” Natasha retorted, though everyone already knew the answer.

“Another year. Another two, another ten,” Bruce said solemnly before taking another sip of the water that was in front of him. He checked his watch and blinked, realizing for the first time how late it had gotten. “Sorry to leave on that note, but I should get going, guys. Didn’t realize how late it was.”

“I’m glad you came. It was nice seeing you again,” You said genuinely, standing up from the table and walking over to hug him.

He hugged you back, giving Natasha a little wave and Steve a pat on the back before you walked him out of the kitchen, towards the front door.

“You two make a good couple, you know. I didn’t realize the two of you were even dating, but you two seem to make each other very happy.”

“Thank you, but we’re not dating,” Natasha said, her lips pressed together in a tight smile.

Steve raised his eyebrows.

“Are you sure? Because with the way the two of you were looking at each other, I would’ve sworn otherwise.”

“Positive,” Natasha said, trying to stop herself from blushing.

“What are you two talking about?” You asked, walking back into the room.

Steve stood up from where he was sitting and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You’re leaving us too?”

“Like Bruce pointed out, it’s getting late. It was so nice seeing both of you.”

You stood there for a minute before walking to where he was standing and hugging him.

“Don’t be a stranger, Steve. You are always welcome here,” You said before taking a step back.

He smiled back at you.

“I would hope so- I still technically work here, right?”

“Did Tony ever rehire you?” You wondered out loud.

“Did he ever rehire you?” He shot back and you shrugged.

“Fair point.”

“Drive safe, old man,” Natasha said before Steve hugged her as well.

“Goodnight, to the both of you.”

He walked out of the front door and you began cleaning up the dishes.

“Steve said the funniest thing earlier, when you were walking Bruce out.”

“Oh?” You asked, making it clear that you were listening even if you weren’t looking at her.

“He thought we were dating.”

You stopped what you were doing, turning the water off and setting the plate down.

“What did you say?”

“I just told him the truth, that we weren’t.”

“Why did he think that we were?” You asked, trying your best to seem as if your heart wasn’t pounding.

“Something about the way we look at each other,” She said as if she hadn’t committed the words to memory.

“Natasha-”

“I mean, it’d probably be a bad idea, with us working together and all.”

“Natasha.”

“And neither of us are really used to it either and-”

You turned around, taking a couple of steps so that you were only a couple of inches away from her.

Your hand hovered above her cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”

Her breath hitched.

“Yes.”

And you kissed her.

You kissed her that night and you kissed her the morning after, as her girlfriend, and you kissed her while she made breakfast and you kissed her again and again and again.

You kissed her on your six-month anniversary and you held her when she woke up from the nightmares she’d tell you about and the ones that she would never speak of.

And you keep on kissing her, until six months becomes a year and a year becomes two, until you can’t imagine a world that exists without her love.

“I’m still mad at you for getting out of bed so early,” You grumbled, looking over the breakfast that she had prepared for the two of you.

She nearly jumped when she heard your voice before she smiled warmly and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Morning. How did you sleep?” She asked, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Good. Would’ve been better if I could’ve slept a few more hours.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, though she seemed uncharacteristically anxious.

“We can go back to bed after, okay? Breakfast first.”

“This looks wonderful,” You said, wiping your bleary eyes and looking over the table more carefully before looking back at her. You poured coffee for the two of you. “You seem like you’re on edge.”

“I’m not,” She said, though you weren’t fully convinced. “Let’s eat.”

You sat down across from her, starting to eat when you became keenly aware of the fact that she was carefully watching you as you ate.

You set your utensils down and she nearly jumped out of her seat.

“Nat, what is going on?”

She blinked.

“Nothing, I-”

“You are a surprisingly bad liar, for a spy. Nat, just tell me what is-”

“Can you just… try the pancakes? Please?”

You stared at her for a couple of seconds but when her face remained unchanged, you sighed and cut a piece of the pancake and put it in your mouth.

You started chewing and you bit something hard.

“Did you leave eggshells in this or… oh.” You spit the bit on the napkin and upon closer examination, you could see what you were biting.

A ring.

You stared at it for a couple of seconds before looking back at where she was sitting to see that she was no longer sitting at all, but kneeling on the ground in front of you, a huge smile on her face and tears welling up in her eyes.

You laughed, covering your mouth.

“I’ve always known that you’re a hero. You’ve always shown such great care for everyone around you, whether they be your team members or civilians. You’ve saved so many people and I didn’t realize this when you first came over here and made breakfast for the first time, but you were saving me as well. From my grief, from loneliness. From myself, at times. You saved me and then you kept on saving me and kept on tearing down these walls that I had put up. I am not perfect and I will never promise you anything of the sort, but I am promising you that I will love you with everything that I am. I am promising that I will try to love you in the same way that you have loved me. I’ve never believed in marriage- I’ve never believed in a lot, if we’re being honest. But I believe in you. And I want to marry you, if you’ll have me.”

You didn’t say anything, tears in your own eyes before you burst out half-laughing and half-crying.

“Natasha, look in your coffee cup.”

She looked slightly confused but she did as you said, moving the coffee cup slightly so that she could see the bottom.

Her free hand rushed up to her mouth before she started laugh-crying as well and you got up and the two of you hugged tightly.

“I think that was the worst pancake I’ve ever had,” You mumbled into the crook of her shoulder, still laughing.

She began to laugh even harder, the two of you rocking in the kitchen.

After the two of you broke apart, she fished the ring that you had placed in her coffee out, admiring it.

“You never said yes, you know,” She pointed out and you looked at her, cleaning the ring she had given to you.

“Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you today or tomorrow or in a million years.”

“My answer is yes too. Though preferably not in a million years.”

A million years may have been a more reasonable time than you had thought- the two of you originally set a wedding date in the winter, though it was interrupted by a string of killings committed by Clint.

Turns out, he is good for more than making Natasha upset by not coming to your wedding, he’s also good for upheaving your wedding day in its entirety.

You reschedule the date a couple of months later, only for a couple of Widows to call for Natasha’s help in saving one of their own. She can’t refuse and you would never ask her to.

“I don’t know if it’ll ever be the right time,” Natasha said softly, laying next to you in bed, a couple of nights after returning from the mission.

You turned over so that you were facing her.

“For the wedding?”

She nodded.

“I don’t think it’ll feel right if everyone isn’t there with us. I know that you’ve been really busy planning for it, but-"

“Nat, I don’t care about a wedding. I don’t need some ceremony to tell you how much I love you. If you want to stay like this, if you don’t want a ceremony or anything, then okay. All I need is you.”

“How did I get so lucky?”

“You’re really good at cooking breakfast,” You mumbled back and she laughed.

“I love you.”

“I know,” You said sleepily, barely able to keep your eyes open. “I love you too.”

The bubble of peace that you had managed to create for all these years remains for another, until Scott Lang shows up at the front door to the Avengers Compound.

From there, the bubble completely popped, not that either of you minded much.

This was what you both wanted, right? Everything back to what it was before.

Now, with Tony’s plan, everyone seemed to be running around the Avenger’s Compound again, everyone anxious to do something useful after all of these years.

“I still don’t like that he’s here,” You said begrudgingly and Natasha sighed. “He isn’t the Clint either of us knew.”

“I had to go after him. He deserves a chance at forgiveness,” She argued quietly, careful not to be overheard. “You’ve forgiven me for everything I’ve done. Why can’t you forgive him?”

“Because everything you’ve done since you left the Red Room has been in service of clearing out your ledger. He was killing people a couple of days ago.”

She didn’t say anything at that, thinking.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not asking to invite him to our wedding, I’m just asking you to trust him.”

You looked at her, unable to stop the smile that started on your face.

“We can finally get married- we can have our families at our wedding,” You said softly and she nodded, a small smile appearing on her lips as well.

“God, I can’t wait to introduce you to my family. I can’t wait to meet yours. I think you and Yelena are going to get along a lot.”

“Okay,” You said after a while. “I trust him.”

The two of you started walking towards the main open floor, where the machine that Tony had dreamt up had been constructed.

The others were already waiting there in their suits, waiting for your conversation to finish up.

“Okay. It’s Vormir, right? Where you and Clint are going?” Natasha nodded, her forehead leaning against yours. “Okay, well, you’re going to have to tell me all about it when you get back. I wish I was going in space.”

She smiled, kissing you on the forehead before proceeding to pepper your entire face with kisses before landing on your lips.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to kiss her enough.

“Yeah, you only get to time travel,” She smiled. “I’ll tell you all about it, I promise. I love you.”

“I love you too. Come back home, okay? I’ll have breakfast waiting.”

“Okay,” She said softly, stepping back. “I’ll make the coffee.”

“You don’t have to do anything, just be there. Just be there, Nat.”

“I will,” She said, beaming. “I promise I will.”

In the last moments you’re with her, she looks the happiest that you’ve ever seen her.

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 6}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelb’s blogs! >> @snelbz​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

The week had passed by in a blur and by the time Saturday came, all Nesta wanted to do was sleep in. 

But she couldn’t.

Sleeping in wasn’t possible anymore. 

Her alarm had been set for seven, but she woke up with the sun peeking through her curtains at 6:45. She looked at the baby monitor on the nightstand. Nyx was still sound asleep in his crib.

With a groan, she covered her head with her pillow and tried to shut out the light, but it was no use. 

She was wide awake. 

May as well enjoy a cup of coffee before Nyx wakes up. Nesta tossed her legs over the side of the bed and tossed her robe over her pajama shorts and tank top. After pulling her long, golden-brown hair back, she was tiptoeing through the hall and down the stairs.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could hear noise coming from the kitchen.

The sizzling of bacon being dropped into a skillet.

She had expected it to be Cassian, of course, but what she wasn’t expecting was what he was wearing.

Or, she supposed, what he wasn’t wearing. 

She wasn’t sure if she should go back upstairs, to give him privacy. But he was the one who had chosen to come downstairs like this, in one of the common areas of the house, so Nesta went ahead and walked into the kitchen. She aimed straight for the coffee pot, grateful to see a fresh pot already in the carafe. “Good morning.”

He turned towards her, that broad, muscular chest on full display, thanks to the white towel wrapped around his hips being the only thing he had on. “Morning, Nes. Hope you want breakfast.”

She continued to make her coffee, which was usually easy, considering it was one spoonful of sugar in black coffee, but she was having a distinctly hard time focusing on what she was doing.

She had seen Cassian without a shirt in before, at the few times they’d both been over to swim in Feyre and Rhysand’s pool, but there was something distinctly different about seeing him wearing a pair of swimming trunks and that towel. That towel that was sitting so low on his hips, she knew there could be nothing underneath it.

He didn’t even seem to notice, didn’t even seem to think about her reaction to him standing nearly nude in the kitchen, making breakfast. His hair was still wet, although the ends seemed to be drying. 

She wondered if this is what he looked like in a towel, what he would look like in the shower.

She quickly shook the thought away, even though it couldn’t help but linger in the back of her mind.

“I’ve got eggs, bacon, and toast,” he said, his back to her. She watched his muscles expand as he moved pans around and turned off the burners. “Simple, but it’ll fill you up. We’ll need all the energy we can this morning.”

Nesta cleared her throat and gave him a nod as he turned to face her. It was true, and Nesta was unexcited about it. The two of them would spend their day trying to find a part-time nanny for Nyx for the days that the two of them were both at work at the same time.

They’d had plenty of applicants, some of whom seemed promising. 

Nesta had her fingers crossed.

A plate was set down in front of Nesta, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at it. There was a smiley face made out of a bacon mouth and egg-eyes. Another plate was set in the middle of the table, piled high with toast and jam. 

“What am I, two?” she asked, gesturing to the breakfast face in front of her.

Cassian chuckled. His plate was piled high with bacon and eggs. No room for faces. He sat across from her and leaned on the table with his elbows. “A little smiley face never hurt anybody.”

She said nothing, just picked up her fork and cut into the eggs. She hadn’t even told him she liked her eggs over-medium, but she was glad she did as the semi-runny yolk spilled out onto her plate. Nesta thought about starting something about it, about asking about food preferences before he assumed something, but it was too early and she hadn’t gotten to enjoy nearly enough of her cup of coffee. It was too early to fight. So instead she picked up a crispy piece of bacon and used it to pick up some of the egg, before popping it into her mouth.

Her eyes slipped closed and she tried not to moan.

How could a simple breakfast taste so damn good?

When she opened her eyes again, she assumed she hadn’t been completely successful in stopping her appreciative noises, because he was smirking at her as he brought his own coffee to his lips.

“Told you I make a mean breakfast,” he said, reaching for a piece of toast and slathering it in blackberry jam.

Clearing her throat, she ignored him and continued eating until her plate was completely empty. Just as she was about to get up to rinse it off, he stood, adjusting that damn towel to fit more snuggly around his hips, and picked up both of their plates. She tried her best not to watch the muscles shift in his back as he rinsed the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. Tried her best, but found herself staring as she sipped from her coffee cup, but snapped herself out of it and got up as well, making Nyx a bottle for when he woke up.

As she shook the formula up, she asked, “Will you be putting clothes on before the applicants get here, or should I warn them this is going to be a clothes-optional interview?”

He glanced at her over a shoulder, as he began to clean the pan he’d cooked the bacon and eggs in, but turned right back to the sink. “Does my nakedness bother you, Nes?”

Damn him, she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“No,” she snapped. “And stop calling me that.”

“So, you like me in a towel, then?” he went on, turning the sink off as he put the final plate in the drain rack.

“You’re exhausting, you know that?” she asked, turning to face him full on.

He turned to her then, one brow raised as he ran a hand through his nearly-dried hair. “I’m just saying, if it bothers you, I’ll be sure to dress before I come down to slave away for you over the stove. But, if it doesn’t bother you, I have to admit that I like to completely dry before I put on clothes.”

No, it didn’t bother her.

No, she didn’t mind having her breakfast with a view.

No, she wouldn’t mind reaching out and feeling just how hard and defined his abs really were.

No, she would never admit to that.

Instead, she raised her chin and said, “I should wake Nyx up so he’s ready before the first applicant arrives.”

“So formal,” he grinned. “And here I thought we were having a nice, pleasant morning.”

A soft cry came from upstairs and she was immediately in motion, all thoughts of those abs and whether or not water from his shower would well in the defined divots of them gone. Snatching up the bottle she’d set on the counter, she turned and headed for the living room and the stairs beyond. “Put some clothes on,” was all

she called back to him as she hurried for Nyx’s nursery.

*

Nesta shut the front door, falling back against the wood, listening as the final interview made her way down the cobblestone walkway.

She sighed and made her way into the kitchen. She needed a glass of wine.

A bottle of wine was more like it, but a glass would do for now.

She found Cassian already standing behind a chair at the kitchen table, the resumes of each applicant spread out before him. “So,” she said, reaching into the fridge for the bottle of chilled, white wine. “What did you think?”

He blew out an equally exhausted breath, before shaking his head. “There was…a lot of variety.”

He was right. There was a woman who had to be in her seventies, who had brought an entire notebook of lesson plans, with her goal to have the one-year-old fluent in French before his third birthday. Then there was the thirteen-year-old who had lied about her age on the application, but promised she could ride her bike the mile and a half from her house every day they needed her. Just not until after three on school days.

“Too much variety,” she agreed. “That last woman was so boring she literally put Nyx to sleep.”

It was true. Nyx was currently sound asleep in the middle of his playmat in the living room, surrounded by his toys. 

“I didn’t mind the retired librarian,” Nesta said, filling her wine glass to the brim. 

Cassian scrunched his nose. “She smelled weird.”

Nesta scoffed. “I don’t think Nyx will be minding her smell. She was smart and was obviously good with him.”

“So was Viviane,” Cassian said, picking up an application off the table.

Nesta blinked. “Viviane?”

“Yeah, Viviane,” he said, showing her the application. “Smart. Bachelors in early childhood education. Lives three miles down the road.”

“Young, blonde, hot,” Nesta added, taking a drink.

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “So you do remember her.”

“I remember that she didn’t have near enough experience and she only listed one reference,” Nesta replied, taking the application and resume from him. She looked it over again. “She can’t be more than twenty-two years old.”

“What does her age have to do with it?” He asked, leaning down on the chair and looking at her. “She’s got good qualifications and Nyx loved her. She was one of the few he actually laughed and wanted to play with.”

It was true, he’d been extremely uncomfortable around most of the applicants. He cried the second a couple of them looked at him and had even spit up on one of them. But he had giggled with Viviane and genuinely seemed to like her.

“She hasn’t worked at a legit daycare or anything, but she’s been a one-on-one nanny before,” Cassian pointed out, as Nesta was reading the same thing on her copy of the resume. “And she said she could get us the numbers of her previous families. She just didn’t want to give them out without asking permission.” He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sounds like she’d respect our privacy, too. But go ahead, keep thinking of reasons she’s not a good candidate.”

Aside from her perky tits and ass, I can’t think of any. The words almost came from her lips, but Nesta ground her teeth.

“We have to agree on someone, and Viviane can start immediately,” Cassian continued. 

Nesta stared at him for a moment.

He stared back, watching as she sipped from her glass. “I swear to the Mother, Cassian, if you fuck the nanny-.”

Cassian barked an unamused laugh. “You think I have absolutely no self control, don’t you?”

“I think you’re basing this choice off of what you want, not what Nyx needs,” she said, not breaking their eye contact.

“She may be hot, but fucking her would be a lot more trouble than it’s worth,” he admitted. “And Nyx is half Rhys. Don’t forget that. He liked to appreciate pretty things just as much as I do, and I’m sure Nyx will, too.”

Scoffing, Nesta set her glass down and went into the living room to get Nyx. “He’s a baby, not a grown man, with raging hormones. You’re disgusting.” She picked him up, still fast asleep from hearing about the nuances of the differences in a sitter and nanny from the old crone they’d spoken with last. “Call Viviane, let her know she starts tomorrow at eight.”

Cassian met her on the stairs. “I don’t work tomorrow, I can watch him.”

Nesta shrugged, but continued up, carrying a drooling Nyx to his nursery. She hadn’t noticed how close to his nap time it had gotten. “Think of it as an exercise in self-control then, and a test run. See how she does with Nyx and see if you can keep your dick to yourself.”

“I’ve kept it from you pretty easily, haven’t I?” 

Nesta refrained from responding as she carried Nyx into the nursery and laid him down, cracking the door open behind her as she left. Walking back downstairs, she retrieved her wine, purposefully ignoring him, though she felt his eyes on her the whole time. She wouldn’t answer his question, was doing her best not to think about it, especially compounded with memories of him this morning.

She had no idea the muscles leading down by the hips could really be so defined. She thought the illustrious V that dragged your eye downwards on most male models was photoshopped in. Cassian, though, very much proved it not only existed, but that it was as distracting as she’d imagined it could be.

“I’m taking a bath,” she announced, heading back for the stairs. “Let Viviane know she got the job, but she can start whenever you want. If you’ll be off tomorrow, we don’t need to pay her to be here.”

She didn’t wait for his reply, and was in her room with the door shut a few seconds later. She took her time filling the bathtub with the things she found under the counter. There were oils and salts and bubbles and soaps, and by the time Nesta settled into the bubbly, warm water, the entire bathroom smelled like a spa. She sipped her wine, refusing to let her mind wander back to Cassian that morning, but by the time her glass was empty, her head was swimming and the water had begun to go cold.

She got out of the tub, watching as the water swirled down the drain and began toweling off.

And then, she had an idea, to give Cassian a taste of his own medicine.

She grabbed a clean, fluffy, white towel and wrapped it around her chest. And then she headed down to the kitchen for a refill.

Cassian was lying on the couch, one arm tossed behind his head, the other using the remote to flip through the stations on the TV.

He caught Nesta the moment her feet appeared at the top of the stairs.

Nesta’s heartbeat a little bit faster with every step she took.

“This is a new look for you,” Cassian said, simply, even though his voice had lowered an octave since the last conversation they had. “Especially considering you took the master bedroom so that you had your own private bathroom to avoid such run-ins with me.”

Nesta tossed her long, wet hair over her shoulder. “I figured it was okay since you’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no desire to crawl into bed with me. I deemed it safe territory.”

The glass still dangled between her fingers and she heard the couch creak as she turned the corner into the kitchen. She may have grabbed a towel that wasn’t quite as wide as the rest of them, one that didn’t quite come as far down her thighs. But if he wanted to prance around in nothing but his skin, she could do the same.

They were both adults. She had no interest in sleeping with him - so she told herself, at least - and he’d said he had no interest in her.

She poured what was left of the bottle in her glass and threw it into the trash with a clunk. She hadn’t realized she had so little left, but was fairly sure another bottle was in the wine cabinet.

Which was in the living room.

When she re-entered the living room, the volume on the TV was nearly silent and Cassian was sitting up, rather than laying down. One arm was draped across the back of the couch and the other still clutched the remote.

She could feel his eyes on her and she took another drink before reaching around the back of the cabinet for the key and unlocking it.

Not only did she grab another bottle of her favorite wine, but also a good bottle of whiskey, too.

“Planning on getting wasted?” He asked, quietly. 

“Just stocking up,” she replied, locking the cabinet behind her. “Care for a glass?”

Cassian looked around the room, as if she would be talking to anyone else other than her. “Sure.”

“Whiskey, I assume?” she asked, going back into the kitchen for another glass. 

The television was a little bit louder when she returned, but not by much.

She sat on the opposite end of the couch, and set the glasses on the coffee table in front of them. After retrieving the glass bottles, she poured.

Cassian remained perfectly quiet as she did so. 

“Is this a truce?” he asked, as Nesta held the glass out toward him.

“This is a celebratory drink to commemorate finding a nanny today,” Nesta said, although her voice held no warmth. “No matter how young and inexperienced and doomed-to-fail she is.”

She held up her wine glass.

Cassian snorted as he clinked his glass against hers.

She wasn’t paying any attention to whatever he had playing on the TV, and she had a feeling he didn’t either, not as she could feel his stare burning into her. Enough so that she crossed her legs, unintentionally causing the towel to raise even higher attention on the outside of her thigh. It almost exposed her entire hip, which she wasn’t anticipating, but she had made the decision to come down here, to tease him by showing him what he had done to her. She wouldn’t let him see how much his gaze was affecting her.

Even if it was just the wine.

Or so she told herself.

She was just about to stand, to make some excuse for going upstairs when he set his glass down on the coffee table and cleared his throat.

“New house rule. Clothes are required in the common areas. Kitchen, living room, dining room,” he said, ticking them off one by one. “Bedrooms and bathrooms are the only places where this is allowed.”

He gestured towards her, without looking, to make sure his point was understood.

“Why?” She asked innocently, and then she threw his own words back into his face. “Does my nakedness bother you, Cass?”

“Quite the opposite,” he admitted, adjusting himself.

Nesta pretended she didn’t notice.

“I thought you had no issue keeping yourself in check with me,” Nesta said, her voice low. “I thought you weren’t some untamed male with raging hormones.”

“I’m not,” he said, reaching to refill his glass. “At least, not until a beautiful woman is sitting a foot away from me, soaked, in a towel, pouring me whiskey.”

“I’m not soaked,” she said, without thinking it through. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

When Cassian looked at her, he grinned, but his eyes were dark. “I meant your hair.”

Nesta knew her plan had immediately backfired, either that or she’d had far too much to drink, so she simply nodded and stood heading back for the staircase.

“Nes?”

She turned back to look at him, halfway up the staircase.

He was smirking, that glass of whiskey resting on the arm of the couch. “If you ever do find yourself soaked, you know where to find me.”

She was up the stairs and slamming her door in a flash, trying to ignore his quiet laughter.

[mrs-hollandstan]

More Than Perfect || Sam Holland

Warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of childbirth and the complications afterwards, self-doubt, language?, babiessss, Sam just being a supportive cutie

Word Count: 1,720

Author’s Note: Hopefully you guys enjoy a little bit of dad!Sam. Lemme know :) Also, huge credit to @/marsbudge on Instagram for the picture on the right. She’s amazing in expressing her beauty and is the whole reason I created this piece. Moms/ women in general are fucking superheroes. 

My Masterlist || Add yourself to one of my taglists

There was nothing like having a baby. You were told that once you had a little one, your life would change and you would never understand the absolute love you have for this tiny human you'd made. When you and Sam got pregnant with your daughter, he was infatuated with your naked body. The tummy and the thick thighs and the ever growing breasts. Not that you yourself particularly minded being nude around your fiancè or just in general, especially when it just so happened that in the worst weeks of your pregnancy you'd be in the middle of summer. 

When your belly popped towards the bottom, blossoming up the further you got in your pregnancy, Sam lost his mind. He loved the bump and when his hands wandered, it's often where they ended up. More than anything, Sam appreciated the changes your body went through, especially the stretch marks around your thighs, hips, and belly. The boy was obsessed. That's why his Instagram blew up with pictures of your belly, pictures from the baby shower, of the nursery, of her closet, her name board above the crib, and eventually her when she arrived in the beginning of August. 

Virginia Elizabeth was what you named her and Sam, just as much as when she was in your belly, was obsessed with her. She was constantly in his arms and he admired each one of her little features on the daily, dressing her, feeding her (if you couldn't of course), changing her, rocking her to sleep. He was an all around great father. 

Especially because of the pain and exhaustion he inevitably and guiltily felt he inflicted on you. Your bump remained for a few weeks, but what it left, Sam saw, made you slightly depressed. Your feet were still swollen, your breasts were huge but your belly was starting to sag, and the bleeding was ridiculous. You slept most of the time because of the constant milk production and late nights, but Sam didn't mind taking Virginia out into the living room and kitchen, especially if his brothers were over to see their baby girl. 

However, after about a month you'd gotten somewhat used to being a mom and feeding her late at night with Sam right there at your side, giddy smile on his face the entire time at the look of his girls. He loved introducing you as his girls and going to see family and friends with your bubbly little girl in his arms. But something that seemed to remain after all of it was the nudity in your house. 

Sam found that most times he came to find you napping, you were nude beneath the blanket. Not that he minded. Easy access to the skin of your back and belly and thighs. He actually loved the sight and hoped that when he went back to culinary school and eventually went to work as a chef in one of your local restaurants, you'd still be like that, something to look forward to when he climbed into bed with you. 

With a day off from work but not from school, Sam was off in the afternoon and back before the sun started to set, walking up the stoop with a smile on his face. Even a few hours spent away from his girls was torturous. Shouldering the door open, he drops his bag just inside, kicking his shoes off just beside it, 

"Babe?" He calls. There's no reply, a frown covering Sam's face as he walks towards the nursery. He pauses in the doorway of your bedroom when he sees you, smiling to himself. You stand just before your bed, nude with your little girl, only clad in a diaper, in your arms. Your eyes are closed as you sway from side to side, the little one whimpering softly. Walking into the room, Sam stands with his hands on his hips, 

"Look at you two." He says softly. You open your eyes slowly, glancing at him. His smile is so wide you don't know how it fits on his face. He takes a deep, breathless like breath, looking you over, "You two are so perfect." He mumbles before he walks forward again, coming to stand behind you. His hands rest over your hips, lips pressed to your temple, 

"You smell like biscuits." You murmur softly, not faltering in the swaying, even as you lean back against his chest. He chuckles softly, 

"Orange cardamom biscuits. They'd go good with your tea, I'll have to make them sometime for you." He explains softly. You nod, lips pressing against Virginia's cheek. Her little face is turned up towards the ceiling, mouth hanging open as she fights sleep. You sigh, 

"I uhh, I took a shower, put her in that little bouncy thing just outside the shower and she got fussy cause it was hot in the bathroom. So I took her out of her onesie and was holding her and I just... her skin on mine felt amazing. Like yours does. And I miss her. I miss..." Sam can see the tears in your eyes now, "I miss my baby bump and being in the hospital smelling that newborn smell and all that." You tell him. He nods, 

"Its the postpartum peach. You know it'll pass and you'll have so much fun with her when she's older. Plus... the older she gets, the closer we are to havin another one. More of that newborn smell." He reasons. The look you throw him over your shoulder makes him swallow, 

"Alright... yeah, still traumatized from her birth, got it but... you don't have to be so upset. She's still little and perfect... both my girls are, and for the next... what, year, that won't change. She'll get nice and chunky and when she changes, we'll so be ready for it. She'll get giggly and fun and you'll love it. I know you will babe." He reassures. You nod, 

"I know I just can't help it. It feels like someone else is controlling my life, my emotions. I'm sorry." 

"You don't have to apologize Y/N. Your body, your mind are going through a lot of changes. You're maturing and all that. I'm not upset about it. The crying, from you or her doesn't bother me. At least there's some need for me." He half jokes. You smile, looking down at your baby girl. He sighs, 

"I'm really likin this naked thing with you though." He mutters, kissing your shoulder as he molds your hips in his hands. You hum, 

"Sometimes I'm just too lazy to get dressed, other times it's just too hot." You reason. Sam nods, 

"I like it." 

"Oh yeah?" He nods when you glance up at him, "Maybe you should join the party then. I wanna stare at her and she likes daddy's chest." He doesn't even need you to finish the before he's stripping from the grease and oil stained shirt and pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor as you sit at the edge of the bed. You scoot to your side, letting Sam lay down before you before you lay Virginia over his chest. He mumbles incoherently down at her, kissing the top of her head as he strokes down her back. He purrs which makes her whimper, the motion further lulling her to sleep. He glances over at you when you prop your head up on your hand, 

"You're a great father Sam. You've always been an awkward little bean but... when it comes to V, you do amazing." He chuckles softly, 

"Thanks Y/N/N. You two... mean the world." He admits, rubbing up and down your baby's back softly. You sigh, brushing his unruly curls aside, 

"I'm just glad that I don't have to cook. The food you make is excellent and you like doing it and baby loves it too." He laughs again, 

"And that's all that matters is making you both happy." He murmurs. There's a silence that permeates between you for a moment before you stand, finding the thin robe you wear all the time if it genuinely is too hot to wear anything else, 

"What was this... thing you were saying about orange cardamom biscuits?" You ask with a cock of your eyebrow. He smiles wide, tip of his tongue caught between his teeth, 

"I'm starting to think ALL you use me for is food." 

"I feed your little girl from my own body like eight times a day. The LEAST you could do is make bomb fucking food Holland." He hums after a moment, eyes averted from yours and to the little girl laid across his chest. He glances back up, 

"Can we just... have a little longer of this moment? Just a pretty little family before I'm whisked away to slave over a stove." He jokes. After a moment of staring at each other, you sigh, trying to fight your smile before you near the bed again, sitting at his side, 

"Fine Samuel. But only because you're pretty." You lean in to kiss his nose, kissing your baby girl's head just below his chin, "And you too little miss. I just hope you at least get something from me for all the pain and suffering I went through getting you here." Sam reaches up to tuck hair behind your ear, 

"You're a great mumma already. I have no doubt that she'll be witty and perfectly perfect. With a mum like you she'll always know she can never disappoint us with whatever decision or life choice she makes. You'll make sure of it and that's what matters. Raising a decent fucking human being." He says with such passion in his eyes you think you'll faint. You stare at him for another moment before sighing, 

"I love you more than anything on this earth Samuel Holland. Our little family is just perfect right now." You tell him. Leaning up to kiss you, he sighs, 

"Love my girls in all of their beautiful nudity. Love skin to skin." He murmurs. You lay your head against his shoulder, watching your girl sleep. Of course pregnancy and motherhood was difficult, but your fiancè made it so much better and your baby girl was everything and more for the both of you.

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[outercrasis]

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: References to sex, masturbation (nothing actually occurs)

Summary: After meeting Mando, you just can’t seem to get him out of your head. (events directly follow Introductions)

A/N: Thanks for the kind reception to the first post of this AU! I’ll be making a masterlist soon for easier navigation :) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future posts or if I’ve missed a warning.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Lingering Impressions

Your day ended up being an exhausting one. Mando had been your most exciting session for more reasons than just the obvious. You'd reviewed the papers of two freshmen, a junior who wanted you to basically write their paper for them, and another graduate student who disregarded every suggestion you made. Needless to say, Mando's gratitude felt extra special after all of that.

Getting home, you're greeted with the welcome smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen as you throw yourself face-first into the couch. The open floorplan of your tiny two bedroom apartment allows Layla to spot you as you wander in.

"Hello to you too!" she calls over. "I'm making chicken marsala."

You lift your head up from the watermelon-shaped throw pillow to smile at her. "You are a saint and I don't deserve you."

"You totally don't," Layla teases back, happily returning to the stove. You flip over on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone while she finishes making dinner. A comfortable silence fills the room, interrupted only by Layla's hums and the discordant sounds of cooking.

Layla has been your roommate since your sophomore year of college, randomly paired together by the dorm sorting system and inseparable ever since. The two of you clicked, a friendship forged over the awkwardness of early adulthood and a shared love of terrible reality TV. Both of you keep busy schedules while pursuing your respective master’s degrees and help each other out where you can. Making dinners for each other is just a part of that.

It’s not long before Layla brings over two steaming plates of food to lay out on your thrifted coffee table. She sits opposite you, preferring to sit on the floor rather than the couch. You’re eager to dig in, groaning at the first bite.

“I’ll take that as a thank you,” Layla grins, tucking into her own meal.

“God yes.”

“Long day then?”

You groan again, this time in irritation rather than pleasure. “Yes. I don’t know how many more know-it-all grad students I can deal with.”

She’s heard all about your nightmare sessions with students that think they already know everything. You’ve questioned more than once why they bother booking the session if they're just going to ignore your advice and decide their paper is perfect as is. It seems like a total waste of time for both you and them. 

Layla sympathizes and shares her own gripes about some of the assholes she's forced to put up with while working on her research project. After all, no group project is complete without the one person who does nothing but acts like they know everything. Giving each other time to vent another small way the two of you take care of each other.

As you think back on your day and sessions your mind inevitably drifts to Mando. He hadn’t been anything like you’d expected. He was kind in his own way and by far the most amenable session you’d had all day. Not taking off the helmet was odd, as was not giving out his real name, but neither of those had really bothered you when it came down to it. If anything, they only serve to fascinate you further.

“Did something else happen today?” Layla asks, a spark lighting up in her eyes. She can always read you, something that can be either a blessing or a curse depending on what it is you're hiding. You take a few more bites before answering, already anticipating her reaction.

“Well I might have also met Mando today,” You try to throw it out there casually, hoping that if you treat it as though it’s not a big deal she’ll follow your lead. You should have known better.

“You what!? Tell me everything,” Layla screeches at you from across the coffee table. She pushes her food off to the side, clearly deciding that your unexpected meeting with campus's resident celebrity is far more important.

"He came in for a session. His paper was really good, it-"

Layla is quick to cut you off. "I literally couldn't care less about that and you know it. Tell me about him, what's he like? Is he terrifying?"

You can’t help but snort at that. You know why she asked of course - the rumors flying around about him getting out of hand these days - but when you think about him now they all seem ludicrous. The gentle way he spoke to Grogu and offered his hand out to the kid before leaving. The sincerity in his voice as he spoke to you, eager to hear any advice you had to give him. No. Mando was decidedly not terrifying. “He’s… just a guy,” you tell her, not really sure how to explain his unique presence.

The eyeroll you receive in response is warranted. “Are you kidding me right now? You probably know more about him than anyone else on campus and you’re going to tell me he’s just a guy?”

You shrug, shoveling another bite of food into your mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you Lays, I only spent an hour with him. He was nice, really sweet with his kid, and I’ll probably never see him again.”

You’re not sure why you feel a quick sting in your chest at that thought. It wasn’t like you knew him well or that he even owed you anything. Considering the fact that you’d gone weeks without so much as glimpsing him on campus you’d probably only have another chance to see him if he signed up for another session and there was no guarantee he’d return.

“So the kid thing is true?” Layla asks.

“Yeah. Really cute kid, pretty quiet.” Very quiet now that you think of it. You don’t have much experience with kids that young, but you’re certain kids Grogu’s age can talk. He hadn’t said so much as a word, only letting out an occasional noise or two. It was odd, but then he could just be shy or something. Another question you’d probably never have an answer for.

“Is the kid his?” Layla presses.

“I don’t know, it didn’t exactly come up while we discussed his paper on unique material applications,” you snap back at her. You wince a little at your sharp reply. It wasn’t deserved. Layla was simply curious and now the victim of your long day and swirling thoughts.

You quickly follow up with an apology. “Sorry. I just- I had a long day and I really didn’t learn much about him, okay?” 

There’s a small sense of relief when Layla nods, backing down from her inquisition. “It’s cool, I get it. Just promise you’ll tell me if you see him again?”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.” 

The rest of the night passes like usual. You wash up after dinner, a fair trade since Layla cooked, and the two of you get to tackling homework that’s begun to pile up with the semester entering its full swing. Nighttime study sessions have been a regular occurrence since your undergrad days and have only intensified while pursuing your respective graduate degrees. It’s more about solidarity and accountability than shared workload, what with your program being in English and Layla’s in Marketing, but it’s nice. Simply having company is better than doing it all by yourself.

Around 10:30 you call it, eyes bleary from staring at your laptop. Layla is deep into a PDF reading so you leave her to her work and shuffle off to the shared bathroom. While the water heats, you brush your teeth lazily, going through the motions of your nightly routine. You test the water with your hand before deciding it’s warm enough to step in.

Your thoughts drift aimlessly as you stand under the hot stream, unfocused until they land back on him. It’s like you can’t help yourself, the way your thoughts have been returning to him all night. You’ve puzzled about him before, but only in the abstract. A hypothetical more than a real person. Wondering if rumors are true isn't quite the same as wondering about the man himself. 

All throughout the night he kept popping up. One moment you would be considering the symbolic use of color in your assigned reading and the next you would be puzzling over Mando’s favorite color. Maybe orange, if his gloves were anything to go by. Layla's favorite song played and while she sang along you couldn't help wondering what kind of music he listens to. Rock probably, or was that too on the nose? As you sipped your drink you wondered what his drink of choice would be, alcoholic or not. Did he even drink alcohol at all? Something told you he wasn’t much for losing his inhibitions.

It's all the little things, all the little details that actually make up a person that no one bothers to speculate about that consume you now. Who cares about his favorite movie or favorite food when you can guess on whether or not he's been to jail?

As you wash the grime of the day from your body, your mind continues to drift further, settling onto the first thing that captured your attention earlier today. His hands. Those gorgeous sun soaked hands, how fluidly they moved across his keyboard. The firm hold of them when he shook your hand.

Eyes fluttering closed, you can't help imagining that it's his hands skating across your skin. You can almost feel the gentle roughness of them, the way he'd squeeze and hold you - tight, but not so hard that it hurts. Almost unconsciously, your hand begins to drift down your body, only to be interrupted by a pounding on the bathroom door. Your eyes snap open, confusion and embarrassment replacing your fantasy.

"Hurry up in there! I need to pee," Layla yells through the door.

You grumble in response, knowing she can't hear you, but quickly finish your shower. It's not quite as relaxing anymore, flustered by your wanton thoughts. 

Getting back into your room, you check your email before setting your alarms for tomorrow. There’s the usual spam from online stores reminding you of limited time deals, a reminder that rent is due next week (lovely), and a couple generic university emails. Your eyes fall to your new tutoring appointment emails and you flick through them mindlessly to clear them out, knowing they’ll all automatically appear on your calendar. 

Just as you’re about to close out of the app and get some well needed rest, a new email pops through. It’s another appointment alert scheduled for next week. You tap to open it and your heart flutters when you read the name on the form. Mando. No need to wonder about if you’d ever see him again now. You’d be seeing him Tuesday at 3 PM. Somehow you know he won’t miss his appointment.

×××××

Din is exhausted. Between Grogu, classes, and trying to find ways to make money, he barely has enough time to do basic functional adult things. Things like showering regularly, eating more than a required minimum of once a day, or heaven help him sleep. 

He wishes he could afford a regular babysitter, allow himself some occasional reprieve but it's not possible. He makes just enough to keep the bills paid and at least Grogu's stomach full. There's also an ever present paranoia about letting a stranger into his home, much less to watch his son. Only Paz and Cara have ever babysat for him and even that was mostly against his will.

Din slumps onto his couch, exhausted from the long day. He’d found the couch on the side of the road. It’s well worn and has a couple holes in it, but it was devoid of fleas, comfortable, and most importantly, free. His helmet is off, sitting on the kitchen table where he’d left it after getting home from campus. He’s mostly used to it these days, but sometimes it can still feel suffocating underneath the custom bucket. Taking it off at the end of the day is always welcome, especially when Din sees Grogu’s eyes light up at his exposed face.

He allows himself just a moment of rest, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the couch. Grogu had finally gone to bed, demanding three stories before he fell asleep and Din not having it within him to deny the requests. A small smile rests on his lips, thinking of Grogu's excitement at his mediocre storytelling. He already loathes the day when Grogu won't ask him to read anymore.

There are about twenty other things he should be doing right now other than sitting on the couch. The apartment hasn't been cleaned properly in weeks, dishes are piling up, laundry needs to be done, he needs to find a job for this weekend, should probably find better daycare for Grogu, has an exam to study for, and a paper to finish writing. He should be doing all of that and more, and yet he can't find the will to move. He stays planted firmly on the couch, letting his thoughts drift. A few different ideas and ruminations swirl around, but his mind settles onto one. Her.

She isn't what he had been expecting. When his professor had recommended a session with a writing tutor he'd been a little miffed at first. Din knew words weren't his strong suit, but he hadn't thought he was that bad. He probably wouldn't have even considered it if she hadn't immediately assured him that it was only a suggestion because she saw potential in his work.

He had still only been considering it, form half filled out, when Grogu had hit submit. He’d looked for a way to cancel the appointment, but couldn’t figure it out with the school’s poorly designed website, so instead he had resigned himself to going. After all, just the one session couldn't hurt and he'd already be on campus.

He thought the tutor would be some irritating know-it-all, pointing out all the mistakes in his paper. Either that, or that they'd be too nervous to make any real criticisms. He’d noticed the way people froze up around him, sometimes too timid to even look in his direction. She wasn't either of those things.

She was all smiles and kindness, not hesitant around him for a moment. Even Grogu took an immediate liking to her, as evidenced by the gift of his frog drawing. Din had more of those than he could count, but very few others had been bestowed the honor of his sacred amphibian themed artworks.

She challenged him in a way he liked, not rude but still forceful. Encouraging him to figure out what it was she was guiding him towards with the paper. Not taking ownership, simply identifying where ideas could be made stronger or clearer. They’d only worked through a few pages in the session and Din already felt more confident in his writing. 

What he liked most though was that she hadn't even asked about the helmet. It was all he heard from those brave enough to speak to him. Where did he get it, why did he wear it, did he ever take it off, what does he look like underneath, and so on. Avoiding all of those questions got to be draining. She didn't even acknowledge it.

She had mentioned the rumors that were apparently swirling around campus about him but that was it. He was a bit grateful for that though, entirely unaware of how popular he'd apparently become. The stares that followed him on campus were hard to ignore, but he didn’t know about their accompanying whispers. He still isn’t sure if the rumors are a good or a bad thing. Her reaction hadn’t given him all that much to go off of. He wishes it had.

That thought stops Din short. Where did that come from? Why did her opinion of him suddenly matter after a single one hour session? Din can’t remember the last time he considered someone else’s opinion of him. Probably when he first brought Grogu home to meet everyone. Now here he is, wondering what his English tutor’s thoughts were about the rumors everyone has been spreading about him. He needs to get out more.

Din shakes his head free, trying to ponder other aspects of his life. Like when he’d be able to get the Razor Crest up and running again. She’d broken down again after only the second week of classes. Paz makes fun of him for riding on such an old bike, but she’s a classic. Din can’t get rid of her, no matter how much she likes to break down on him. In the meantime he could make due with the loaner truck from Peli.

Thoughts of his motorcycle only distract him for so long though. He realizes half-way through the fantasy that he’s imagining taking her out on his bike, feeling her hands clasped around his waist as he rides through the city. The way she’d hang on just a little tighter, pressing herself against his back, as he hits the throttle just a bit harder.

Din sits up on the couch and mutters to himself. “Come on, Djarin. Pull it together.”

She’s beautiful, yes, but to already be fantasizing about taking her for a ride? That’s a bit much. It has been months since Din has seen any kind of action, but he shouldn’t be this desperate after spending only an hour with a pretty face. Still, now that he’s thinking of it, his mind wanders to what she’d be like. 

Would she take charge, calm and in control like she was earlier today? Or would she submit to him, allow him to do whatever he wanted? A small groan escapes Din’s lips at the thought of having her beneath him, begging for him to take her. How she would look spread out on his bedsheets, how sweet she’d taste. He can already imagine how good she’d feel wrapped around him, the way her eyes would look all strung out and cockdumb. It would be a beautiful sight if he’s ever lucky enough to see it.

An alarm Din forgot he set suddenly blares on his phone. He can’t even remember what he set it for as he’s yanked from his lewd imaginings, scrambling to turn it off. There’s a small wave of embarrassment as he registers where he allowed his thoughts to drift. 

Ignoring the uncomfortable pressure in his jeans, Din pulls up the tutoring appointment form on his phone and signs up for another session. There’s an option to select a specific tutor and he’s quick to open it up, choosing her name from the drop down menu. 

There’s nothing wrong about this, right? She’d helped him with his paper and Grogu liked her. She even asked if she’d be seeing him again. That was plenty of reason to have another session. His renegade fantasies had nothing to do with his decision to go back. Din is a man in control of his urges. If anything, this next session would prove that his thoughts were all just fleeting, just a simple result of going too long without anyone in his bed.

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