#love is stored in the citrus fruit

[mishkakagehishka]

sharing mandarin slices this, sharing an orange half that, what about juicing an entire lemon and then asking someone if they want some lemonade because you made a lot? huh???

[bitseventimes]

every time a writer mentions a sweet citrus fruit in their work a fairy gets born

[reysdriver]

Cruel Summer | E.M.

Eddie does his very best to help you through the current heatwave — eddie x pregnant!reader fluff

warnings: pregnancy, a little angst if you squint

words: 1.6k

Boiling. 

That was the only way your trailer could be described right now. It was one of Indiana’s hottest summers on record, and it didn’t help that you were six months pregnant and living in an aluminum box. 

You owned three electric fans, and they were all on full blast and aimed at the couch, but they really weren’t making as much of a difference as you needed.

There was a series of thuds coming from something or other outside the thin walls of your trailer, so you assumed your husband was home. And you were proven right when he entered, immediately apologising for leaving you alone in this heat. 

He had no reason to be sorry. Eddie has been so attentive and helpful through this pregnancy, showing you exactly why you fell in love with him everyday, and he was even proving it now. 

Since he just came back from a quick run to the store for some ice, fruit, and frozen treats, he set everything he bought on the recliner before crouching down next to you. 

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and started lightly stroking some of your hair. 

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asked. 

You gave him a side eye, too exhausted to even lift your head. “Take a guess, Teddy.”

He smiled slightly. If it was at the use of your favourite nickname for him or your exasperated joke, you weren’t quite sure. 

“I know that, sweetheart, and I’m sorry. Hopefully I can help a little.”

“Thank you. Did they have black cherry ice cream?”

He hummed out a quiet ‘mhm’ then stood up with a stifled groan. “But it might have melted a bit on the way back. I’ll put it in the freezer and we can have it soon.” 

“What about oranges?”

That was your latest craving. The ice cream and popsicles were luxuries to get you through the heat; the oranges were necessities. You were thankful that your cravings switched from tomato soup to citrus just in time for the heatwave, or you weren’t sure how you would get through it at all. 

Eddie made his way back over to the living room and picked up a paper bag from the recliner. 

“Big bag of ‘em, just for you.”

Hoping to dive right into the bag of fruits, you attempted to sit up, but the baby bump paired with the immense summer heat rendered the process slow and tiring. 

Eddie watched as you moved sluggishly, pitying how this heatwave was taking an extra hefty toll on you. 

“Don’t push yourself.” He advised gently while holding out his hand for you. “I’ll help you with whatever, even if it’s just getting up.”

You thanked him, then grabbed a cutting board and paring knife so you could slice the oranges how you like. 

“You know,” Eddie spoke again. “I was thinking that we could stay at someone else’s place for a bit. Just to get through the heat, you know? I’m sure everyone we know would be more than happy to have us over.”

You started shaking your head before Eddie even finished the proposition. He and you both knew what your answer would be, but Eddie figured there was no harm in asking. 

He really just wanted the best for you. He wanted you to be safe and comfortable, and although that obviously was something you wanted too, you just couldn’t accept his offer. 

“Eddie, I know you just want me to be happy, but I promise you I’m happiest here, at home, with you.”

He sighs, torn between wanting to get you out of this sauna of a trailer and letting you decide what’s best for yourself. In the end, he had to go with your choice, even if it meant suffering; both of you suffering together wasn’t the worst thing ever, he supposed. 

“Alright. Want me to at least draw you a bath?”

“Will you feed me orange slices and ice cream while I’m in the bath?” With wide eyes, you flashed him a hopeful smile. 

He rolled his eyes jokingly, then smiled sincerely back at you. “Of course, anything you want.”

You let out a happy giggle, then took the ice cream out of the freezer almost as quickly as it got there. 

He kissed you on the forehead before heading off to the small bathroom. 

You heard the sound of running water, then your husband’s voice. “Make sure to scoop enough so I can have some too!”

You happily obliged and doled out an extra scoop into the bowl. Then you plucked one ripe cherry from the bag in your fridge and placed it atop the dessert. That was Eddie’s favourite, and if he was being so nice to you, then you would return the favour. 

You took the time to clean the kitchen up, then brought both the ice cream and the orange slices to the bathroom to see Eddie sitting by the tub and turning off the water. 

“It’s a little bit cooler than usual.” He warned. “I just didn’t want the water to be too hot when the whole place is already hot and you’re—”

You cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips, then another on the corner of his mouth. 

“Thank you, baby. Now hold these while I get undressed. And then turn around.”

“I don’t get to watch?” Your husband asked, baring one of the most betrayed looks you’ve ever seen.

You shook your head. “I promise, you don’t want to see me struggling to get my clothes off because they’re drenched in sweat and I’m about to enter my third trimester. I mean it, don’t look. I don’t want you losing all attraction to me.”

Your husband sighed dramatically, then obeyed and turned slowly to face the other way.

It only took a bit of effort, but you took off your dress and placed it on the towel rack beside you. Then came a wolf whistle from right behind you. After turning around, you noticed that Eddie could totally see you in the bathroom mirror. 

“Pervert.” You mock accused. “Does me being all gross and pregnant really turn you on?”

“Everything about you turns me on.”

And he meant that. Not an ounce of insincerity in that promise. 

You faked a gag and then smiled just because you couldn’t help it. Holding out a hand, you asked if he could help you into the tub and he obviously did so after putting your food down on the counter. 

“How’s the water?” He asked. “I can add some hot or cold water if the temperature is off.”

“It’s amazing, handsome. Perfect temperature for some orange slices.”

Eddie chose the slice that was calling to him the most and held it for you to bite. Some of the juices missed your lips and dropped into the bathwater, but you paid that no mind. 

You were thankful that your husband bought a whole bag of these, because you had a feeling your diet over the next few days would be mainly oranges. 

After a few more slices, you decided you now wanted some of the black cherry ice cream that you had also been craving recently. 

As Eddie held the spoon up close to your lips, he noted that this was similar to feeding a baby—something you would be experiencing soon enough. 

“I don’t know about that.” You said. “I think a baby would be a lot more difficult to feed than me.”

Eddie cringed exaggeratedly and shrugged, telling you he doesn’t know about that either. 

Maybe proving his point, you splashed about a cup’s worth of water at his chest, taking care in your aim to make sure none of it got in your ice cream. He ‘retaliated’ by doing the same to you, though the water didn’t affect you when you were already in a whole tub of it. 

“Do you want to join me?” You proposed, gesturing vaguely to the tub so small that you had to cram just to sit alone in. 

“I don’t think this thing can fit both of us, baby. You enjoy it now, and a big tub will be on the top of our list when we buy a new house.”

“It’ll take a while.” You told Eddie. “A lot of our savings are gonna go to the baby, and who knows when we’ll be able to leave the trailer park.”

“Don’t say that. We’ve been working hard and saving. We’ll get there soon.” Eddie assured you. “And even if we can only afford a place without a big tub, I’ll live in the dark and eat nothing but salt and pepper for as long as it takes to get you one.”

You tried to hide your grin, but you knew you were failing at it. Maybe he didn’t think you believed him, so he kept going.

“I’m serious. We’re almost there.” Eddie looked down at your bump sticking out of the water. “Our baby is gonna have a good life”

“You’re so cheesy, Teddy.”

“I’m in love. Love makes you do cheesy things.”

“Like feeding me ice cream in the bathtub?” You asked, attempting to not put your true intentions on display. 

But Eddie understood, just like he always does. He picked up the spoon once more and scooped a heap just for you. 

“Like feeding you ice cream in the bathtub.” He nodded in agreement.

[pit-and-the-pen]

Birthday Present

Birthday fic for @sarawritestories.

Summary: Cassian was gone during your birthday and shows up while you’re at work to make up for it. 

Warnings: Smut (18+), P in v, Oral (f/m receiving), spit, collars/leash, fingering. 

WC: 4.1k

This was probably the longest you had been separated from Cassian since the mating bond had snapped. You weren’t mad per say but you missed your mate like crazy. Not to mention that he had missed your birthday three days ago. You knew that he had wanted to be there, he made sure to top the previous year's celebration every time. And he always managed to deliver. Somehow after being mated for more than fifty years, he had never disappointed. But this year he was helping finally start to train the females in Windhaven. Something that you knew he had been fighting for for so long, how could you be mad at him for being there when that’s what was keeping him away.

Your birthday party was amazing nonetheless. Cassian had left detailed instructions for Nesta and Gwen as to how the party would go. He made sure to order your favorite foods well in advance, even having your present delivered first thing in the morning along with a bouquet of pink and white roses that was so large it took two people to deliver it. It filled the house with the scent of roses. The smell almost makes up for the lack of your favorite smell in the whole world, that citrus and salt smell that always seemed to accompany Cassian. The other part of your gift was a ruby choker with a piece of his siphon carved into the same shape as the diamond on your wedding band. You had nearly cried when you opened the box and had sent the image of you wearing it to your mate and the satisfied rush of lust you received back only proved how much he liked it too. You wish he had been there when you opened it, wish you could have shown him just how much you appreciated the piece of him that you now wore around your neck. Everyone already damn well knew who your mate was but the weight of it around your neck served as a warm reminder for you. 

You rolled out of bed when your alarm went off, your mouth felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in it. Nesta, Gwen and Elain had made sure that you properly celebrated your birthday last night. The empty bottles of wine and some clear liquor you didn't bother asking the name of proved as much. You gulped down the glass of water you had the sense to place out the night before and began to get dressed for the day. 

You picked one of your favorite skirts. Long by fae standards, nearly brushing your calf. A swirling floral pattern offset the dark green of the background. You tucked in the long sleeved cream sweater and gave a small twirl in the mirror, watching the way the skirt fanned out around you as you did so. Your hair was quickly thrown into a high ponytail and you made sure to pull the necklace out from the high neck of the sweater. The charm just visible. 

Quickly grabbing a slice of toast and some left over fruit from last night, you grabbed your bag and walked out the door. The slight chill in the morning air made you thankful for the sweater but you knew by the time the sun rose you would be sweating. The sound of your shoes hitting the cobblestoned street was the only sound that filled the air. You loved these quiet moments in the early morning. It gave you time to really soak in the beauty of Velaris. The way the rainbow street near your little shop shone in the faint rays of sunlight. The way the city itself seemed to hum with the sleeping breaths of its inhabitants. It was one of your favorite times to be out. You fished around in your bag for the ring of keys to unlock the store and stood in the doorway as you waited for the flights to kick on.

 You loved the shop with all of your heart. It had been a mating present from Rhys. Your very own book store. The dark wood and dim lights made it seem so cozy. Cozy chairs and booths would be  full of readers or writers thanks to the little cafe you had thought to add. Plus it had some of the best pastries in all of Velrais, so you’ve been told. 

You switched the books on display for the day, putting your most recent read on the table next to a few new releases you had just gotten at the end of the day yesterday. Swirling letters were drawn on the sign next to them along with a small doddle to tell a little bit about the book and then you were ready to open the store, flipping the small “open” sign that Feyre had painted for you. You pulled the book you started last night out of your bag and sat down as you waited for people to start coming in.

The day seemed to drag by. It was relatively slow, only a few people coming in and out throughout the day. A few of your regulars sat in the cafe area, the soft sound of pens on paper and book pages turning became a gentle white noise that was starting to make your eyes heavy. You decided to get up to do something so you wouldn’t fall asleep.

You sighed heavily as you stacked another book on the shelf, rearranging the shop for the third time that month. You really did miss Cassian. The store seemed just a little too empty without him. He would always stop by to bring you lunch because he knows that you get so caught up in whatever task you were doing that day that you would forget otherwise. Sometimes he would just spend hours at the small high top table yapping away at whatever crossed his mind and you would have a smile on your face for the rest of the day. 

Eventually the last of the customers packed up, calling their goodbyes as they walked out of the door.  You sent your one cafe worker, Flora home for the day when they left. The sun was still high in the sky but you just wanted to be home. Cassian would be home later today and you wanted the time to clean up a little bit. Maybe make dinner after taking a nap. So you kept staking books, telling yourself you would leave once you emptied the cart next to the front counter. Too caught up to hear the front bell of the shop ring, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard someone clear their throat. You cursed softly to yourself, you must have forgotten to lock the door. 

“Sorry we’re closed-” You turned around and a squeal left your mouth as you took in just exactly who was standing in the shop. Of course it was Cassian. His smell quickly flooded your senses and you put down the heavy book in your hand to launch yourself at him. You arms wrapped around his neck at the same time his arms wound around your waist. You buried your face into his chest as he squeezed you tighter against him. 

“You weren’t supposed to get home until later. I would have closed up earlier if I had known.” You smiled up at him, basking in his presence.. 

“I wanted to get home to you, darling. Maybe even surprise you.” He leaned down to give you a teasing kiss. “Gods I missed you” He said once he pulled away from your lips. You wanted to pout at the loss of his plush lips against yours. Suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you haven't seen him in over a week. Your cheeks started to heat as you looked into his eyes, saw that he was clearly thinking the same thing. You were just about to tell him to take you home when he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I locked the front door.” His words only stoked the fire in your stomach. His gravelly voice telling you exactly what he meant. And at that moment, you wouldn’t have cared if he had. All thoughts eddied out of your head except for the feeling of your mates skin against yours. He gave a slow kiss to the spot below your ear and a shiver ran through you. His hands go up to play with the necklace sitting just above your shirt. 

“I want to see you in this.” He gave it a slight tug, pulling your chin up with it. “Only this.” You whimpered as he forced you to look him in the eye. Fidgeting under his heated stare. “But that can wait until later. For now…” He kissed down your neck, down the little bits of exposed skin along your collarbone and started to sink down to his knees. He looked up at you, silently asking for permission as his hands started to snake up your ankles, pulling your long skirt up along with it. All it took was your little nod before he slipped your skirt down your hips entirely. He buried his face into your lace underwear, a small cry falling from your lips. His fingers hooked over the edge of the lacy fabric and began to pull them teasingly slow down your legs. He didn’t hesitate to flatten his tongue and give your fold one long swipe.

Your hand rushed out to grab the bookshelf beside you, knocking some of the covers to the floor in a loud crash. The giggle that you let out quickly turned into a moan as Cassian’s nose bumped your clit. The free hand tangled itself in his pulled back hair, loosening some of the strand from the bun. His response was sinking his teeth into the flesh at your tight. Your fingers harshly yanking at long locks. He licked teasingly over the mark his mouth had left. 

“God I love these.” He muttered as he kneaded your plush thighs. He gave you a quick glance before he shoved his face back into your weeping cunt. Rough hands pulling your hips closer to his relentless mouth, arms nearly supporting all of your weight like it was nothing to him. The angle gave you a good look at the muscles in his back as they flexed as he moved his head, his wings pulled in tight to avoid the shelves of books. You bit your fingers to hold back the string of moans falling from your lips. His teeth scraped lightly over your clit and you were bucking away from his mouth. Suddenly too much but that didn’t stop him. He whimpered as he pulled your hips closer again. The soft grunts leaving his mouth and the way his tongue was licking into your hole had you barrling over the edge before you could even think to tell him. You screamed around your fingers, head falling back against the bookshelf you were now completely leaning against. Cassian is still licking you through your orgasm. Your eyes fluttered open and you nearly jumped when you felt a finger at your entrance. He was grinning up at you, chin shiny with your arousal. His gaze didn’t leave yours as he sunk two fingers in, palm resting perfectly on your clit. 

“Look at the way you suck my fingers in. So good for me.” He said into the skin of your thighs as he started to pump those fingers in and out of you. You squirmed against his fingers, hip twisting as he started to speed us his motions. He grabbed one of your legs and slung it over his shoulder, opening you up wider for him. Your hand was doing nothing to conceal the squeals and high pitched moans leaving your mouth. So you just let them fall freely. 

“Cassian…Fuck. Please” You babbled, not entirely sure what you were begging for. For more, for him to stop, for him to speed up. You had no clue but you knew that you were going to explode if he wasn’t inside of you right this minute. His fingers didn’t slow down for a second, the veins in his arm starting to pop out as he flexed at the speed. Despite your brain screaming otherwise, your hand reached down to his wrist. He stilled instantly. Eyes suddenly full of concern. 

You only pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, hands going to undo his belt. 

“Darling. Hold on-” His words died off with a small whine as your hand wrapped around his hardened length. 

“No. Cassian I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now.” Your voice was breathy and shaky. The need to have your mate inside you is too strong all of the sudden. 

“I could get you home in-”

“Please. Need you now.” You begged, moving your hand up and down, squeezing when you reached the base. His hips bucked and a small huff left his lips. 

“I wanted to make it special since it was your birthday but…fuck. I warned you, princess.” He said, head leaning against yours as he lightly brushed your hand away. He pushed his pants down to let his cock fully spring out. Despite being mated to him for so long, his cock always made you balk just a little. The length so thick your fingers just barely touched when you wrapped your hand around it. “Jump.” Was all he said as his hands went to cup the back of your thighs. You did so with a practiced ease. Your ankles wrapping around his back as he lined himself up with your dripping folds. You both hissed as his tip nudged into you. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, slamming all the way in. His pace was relentless. The pace of his thrusts caused the bookshelf to rattle against the wall. Your mouth parted into a perfect o shape. Cassian just squeezed your jaw, opening your mouth up further for him to place a claiming kiss on your lips. The kiss was just as messy as his strokes, his tongue licking into your mouth. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his lips. A perfect mixture of the two of you. You wrapped your legs around him tighter, using it as leverage to pull him into you. He growled into the kiss, teeth digging into your lower lip. Your back arched into his chest and his hand moved from your jaw to wrap around your ponytail. He yanked on the hair, tipping your head further back, effectively pinning you into place. 

“Cas. Cas please. I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” His teeth nip your earlobe right as his fingers come to rub tight circles on your clit. You are a goner. Your legs twitch against his back, his name pouring past your lips as he fucks your through your orgasm. His thrusts slow down, becoming languid strokes as he nears his own high. Your lips are all over him. Trailing exhausted kisses to his jaw, hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt that somehow managed to stay on during your actions. He stilled inside of you as you felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten before the warm rush of his cum filled you. His head dipped into the crook of your neck before you were whispering into his ear.

“Take me home right now.” And he didn’t need to be told twice. Before you could even process it, he had your skirt buttoned back at your waist. Underwear slid back up your legs. Not a single hair was out of place as he scooped you up in his arms and flew you back to your apartment. 

------

The door had barely closed behind before your lips attached to his. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him down to you. You felt the door shudder behind you as he pushed your back against it. Both of your hands were everywhere. Clothes peeled off with no regard for where they ended up. 

“I never got to show you the best part of your present. Stay here.” He placed a kiss on your forehead before walking over to his bedside table and grabbing a small fabric pouch. He walked back over to you and slowly pulled out the contents of the bag. A long silver chain with a leather loop on the end. Your eyes widened as you placed two and two together. 

“Only if you want to. That’s why I wanted-”

“Yes.” You blurted out. A blush took over your face but he only smiled at you. 

“Then on your knees, darling.” He was suddenly towering over you and you loved every second of it. The carpet was soft under your knees and you sunk down. Your hands folded onto your thighs and your chin tilted up to look at him. He sucked in a heavy breath as your eyes met. A tender hand reached out to cup under your chin, tilting your chin further back and he crouched down to hook the chain into the large ring holding the piece of his siphon. You felt the added weight and goosebumps rose to your skin as he let the cold metal lay against your face. 

“How does it feel?” 

“Good.” Your mouth felt so heavy. 

“Safe sign?” 

“Two taps to slow down, three to stop.” You didn’t hesitate to answer, need rushing through you as he stood back up. His length right at your eye line. You felt saliva pool in your mouth. 

He gave the leash a gentle tug, pulling your head back ever so slightly. 

“Open.” You did immediately. But instead of his cock he leaned down again, hand squeezing your jaw open wider, and you felt his spit enter your mouth. You couldn’t even process the way it made your stomach clench before he was thrusting into your mouth. His spit makes his cock glide easily against your tongue. You kept your jaw lax, waiting for the command to close your lips around him. This was something you and Cassian had discussed a number of times. And it was even better than you imagined it could have been. 

“Suck sweetheart. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.” And you did. You wrapped your lips around his thick length. Reveling in the weight of it against your tongue. A moan built in the back of your throat and was choked off with a sharp tug of the leash. He slipped all the way to the back of your throat. Thanks to years of practice, you took him with ease. He released some of the tension on the chain and you slid back, only for him to repeat the action again and again. Your cheeks were on fire at this point. Tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. The wonderful fuzzy feeling in your head told you just how hard he was fucking your mouth. You didn’t want it to end. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was too much. The burn between your thighs is too much to ignore. One of your hands snuck its way between your thighs and you had just slipped a finger inside of your weeping hole before he tugged the leash back. You whined at the feeling of his cum against your fingers.

“Fuck. Do you like my cock in your mouth that much?” He gritted out. A long string of spit connecting from your lips to his glistening member. You didn’t take your eyes off of it as you nodded your head. Nor did you stop the motion of your fingers.

“Words.” He tugged the leash up to make you look at him.  

“Yes sir. I love it.” He shuddered at your words. As he took in your blown wide pupils, his cock twitched and you surged forward to wrap your lips around it again but he held tight onto the chain. 

“Get on the bed.” He ordered and you pulled your fingers out of yourself slowly, feeling your walls clench around nothing. He pulled you up to your feet, a calloused hand resting under your arm as he let you get your feet underneath you. He tugged you over to the bed and helped you climb onto the bed. You were about to flip onto your back but a strong arm wrapped around your waist stopped you. 

“Hands and knees.” He whispered into your ear. You felt a wave of slick coat your thighs as you arched your back for him. His hands rubbed up the back of your thighs, landing on your ass. You pushed back into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hands on your skin. He reached a hand between your legs and shoved a single finger into you. Your arms collapsed underneath you as he immediately found that spot inside of you. Your hips start to move on their own and you felt a tug on the leash, forcing you up onto your elbow again. You back arching even more as he held all your weight on that single chain. You panted as his fingers slowly stroked inside of you. 

“Are you ready for me, sweet girl?” 

“Yes. Please sir.” The words split off of your tongue and he was thrusting into you. The leash held you in place as he pounded into you. The sound of his hips hitting your ass filled the room. You could feel the way your thighs recoiled against the torturous pace. You were held in place, hips unable to push back, head held in the air. You reached a hand back, needing to feel your mate to ground you. He quickly intertwined your fingers, holding your hand. The gentleness of the action is a vast contrast to the way his trust speeds up. You were jolted forward with each frenzied push of his hips. You could feel every inch of him pushing your walls apart. You writhed under him, muscles shaking as you fought to keep yourself up. You gave a particularly hard jerk and you felt the tension on the leash drop and your face was against the pillow. You heard the sound of the chain hitting the bed under you and Cassian wrapped both of his hands around your thighs. He used the new position to pull you against him in time with his thrusts. Loud mewls being pulled from your lips. You were completely drunk on the feeling of him inside of you as you felt that knot build in you. It felt different from earlier. You struggled to get out the words to let Cassian know, but he always knew. He knew your body better than you at this point. He glided a hand over your stomach, pressing down on the soft flesh right above where he was inside you. The pressure had you screaming his name as your vision went white. You felt your release drip down your thighs, felt the way in leaked down around him. Cassian cursed before he whined above you. 

“Look at you darling. You squirted for me.” His thrusts did not falter in the slightest. The lewd sounds of your wetness filled the room as you hummed against the pillow. Utterly fucked out. His pace stuttered once, twice and then a carnal growl left his lips as his hips stilled. You felt him empty himself inside of you. Staying fully sheathed inside of you as shudders wracked through his body. His hands were everywhere then. Rubbing all over your back, over your legs. He eventually pulled out of you and pulled you against his chest. 

Quick kisses were peppered all over your face as his hand went to detach the leash from your necklace. You gave your neck a quick roll as the added weight was removed. His hands instantly come up to rub any added tension. He stepped out of the room long enough to grab a wet wash cloth and gently clean between your legs. Giving you a small kiss when you jumped from the additional stimulation. He threw the washcloth somewhere in the room before he pulled you into his arms again.

He laid you down on the bed, placing you on his chest. His hands are still rubbing small circles all over your skin. The perfect amount of pressure to bring you back down to earth. 

“Thank you.” You whispered against his chest. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Happy birthday, darling.” was the last thing you heard before his gentle breathing lulled you to sleep.

Taglist: @daycourtofficial @milswrites @ninthcircleofprythian @prythianpages @dawneternal @lady-of-tearshed @writingcroissant @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay @velariscalling @tsunami-of-tears @stormhearty @utterlyazriel @historiaxvanserra @acotarxreader @illyrianbitch @itsswritten

[artdcnaldson]

I. AM. IN. LOVE. WITH. YOU. CAT.

I desperately need, very VERY recently divorced!Art seeing college student!reader in a bar and hooking up, but the next day Art goes out to the store or something, (i.e McDonalds w Lily) and seeing you behind the counter. He asks you when your shift is over so he can pick you up and fuck you in the back of his jeep saying that he’ll sugar daddy you, and that you won’t ever have to work a shitty minimum wage job again, and that he can’t help wanting to help you because you’re so young and naive and pathetic. DROOLING!

Also can I be anon: 🐙

GOD !!!!! And yes 🐙 anon welcome!!!! I misread this ask and wrote something so off base so I had to start over!! Sorry for the delay!!

He never goes to the bar anymore, but he doesn’t have Lily for the night since she’s at a sleepover, and he hates being in the empty house, so he goes out. He doesn’t expect any attention at all— he’s barely even gotten laid since before the divorce— but there you are. Young, hot, doting, desperate for male attention.

You don’t know who he is, which is fine. He relishes in the anonymity. It’s sweet, how bad you want to fuck him just because he’s hot and nice and bought you a drink. Not because you want his money, or a brush with fame and influence.

He fucks you in the bathroom, with his fingers pushed between your lips to stifle your constant stream of whiny moans. God, you’re loud. You gasp and moan like you’ve never been fucked before. Or, at least, like you’ve never been fucked well. You drench his cock in arousal, leave a sticky ring of creamy release at his base that you clean off with your tongue as he comes down your throat.

He’ll never see you again. That’s fine. He’s divorced at 32, he’s young, he’s attractive, he’s rich— he needs to learn to have casual hookups.

But then you’re at the mall while he takes Lily out to buy a new Lego set (a reward for good grades). You’re behind a counter in a citrus colored apron blending smoothies. Lily wants pineapple mango. He orders strawberry banana. You write your number and a heart on his cup. He slides a fifty dollar bill across the counter as a tip and asks what time your shift ends.

He hires a sitter.

When he picks you up from the mall, you smell like fruit and faintly like the pretzel stand nearby. You’re mortified that the hot guy from the bar found you at your shitty minimum wage job.

“Art,” he corrects. Introduces. “And I’m glad I found you.”

You don’t even know who he is, still, even now. You’re bouncing on his cock in the backseat of his jeep, with sponsorship contracts crumpled on the floor, and magazine ad proofs with his face plastered across them on the floor, and you don’t even notice.

He could make all of your worries disappear. As easy as he makes you come around him, as easy as it is to make your eyes roll back and your jaw slacken. And it’s easy. You’re easy. He could make it so you never have to work again, as long as he wants you. Pay your tuition, pay your rent, pay whatever you want, to keep your sweet pussy in his life.

He might just offer it.

[carolmunson]

orange colored sky (older!modern!eddie)

older!modern!eddie - setlist inspired by the fact that i fall in love with someone new every time i got to trader joe's and @loveshotzz new older!steve series. manip by my fave @eddiemunsons-missingnipple tw: nothing really, very much a meet cute at a grocery store. eddie is in his early 40s, reader is late-late 20s/early 30s. lemme know if you guys want this to be a whole thing.

the automatic doors rush cool air into your face, a sweet reprieve from the sticky heat of this summer. a much muggier july than you remember having as a kid. but then again, you don't remember that much about being a kid these days. trader joe's is a little busier than usual, which makes sense with the holiday weekend coming up -- but you hate when it's busy. there's already too many sounds -- some summer 90s playlist and the squeaks of the carts, people in their hawaiian shirts milling around with boxes and box cutters. you just want some snap peas for god sakes. 

you grab a basket and adjust your canvas bags on your shoulder, tossing your headphones in them for later. you feel 'running errands ugly' but everyone seeing you in the bike shorts you threw on this morning doesn't think that view is ugly at all. your music drowned it out on the train ride over here. you're already sort of annoyed. people just don't know how to do anything anymore -- why are we just standing in front of produce. get what you need and go! you think hastily. but you wait for people to stop gawking at the produce and make their selection before you grab the romaine, snap peas, and shredded brussel sprouts you need. when you turn you almost walk entirely into someone's cart, eyes flitting up briefly and muttering a 'sorry, s'cuse me'.

can everyone just get off my fucking ass? you huff to yourself internally. you maneurver over to fruits, a few stands in a row -- citrus, apples, berries. all separated by category in large cargo looking boxes. you snag a big box of cherries, the three pound one, knowing you'll go through the small ones too fast. you frown over the lack of watermelon, continuing along while someone turns the corner into your aisle. you look up for a moment, just to scan your surroundings, to see who it is.

 you've never seen him before, but you've never seen anyone here before. it's not like there's regulars at the grocery store in a city like this. his hands hang over the handle to his cart by the wrists, knuckles tattooed in shapes you can't make out. you follow the leather banded watch up to a full sleeve of ink, only obscured by the start of a cuffed t-shirt sleeve, a crisp white that blinds against the black of the elvira pin up tattoo on his tricep. horror icons blending into each other seamlessly. you can see more black and color peeking out from the collar of his shirt --vintage judas priest, mint condition, tucked comfortably under a well perserved denim vest covered in patches of bands you've never heard of. you're surprised by the black chino shorts on his bottom half, not expecting someone who was clearly still stuck in their grunge phase to wear those over cut off jeans. the busted up reebok's on his feet make up for it though -- pairing nicely with the tattoos on his calves and thighs, not quite sleeves, but enough to make a statement. 

you grab a box of strawberries and pop them into your basket, surveying the mangos on the top shelf at your eye level while he maneuvers behind you. you think he's cute but you don't take too much stock in it -- it's so like you to have a 'train boyfriend' or 'trader joe's boyfriend' for a brief moment in time. someone cute that you spot outside and never speak to. it's one of those days.

he has brown eyes and thick lashes, hair dark wrapped in a bun on the top of his head with streaks of silver poking through, bangs in his face. some curls stick to the heated skin by his neck and jaw. not that you're looking. the scruff on his face is littered with salt and pepper -- maybe that part of him aging more than the rest. he grabs a heap of bananas to his nearly empty cart. he also has a big box of cherries in there. he wears a cologne with spice and suede in the notes, it's familiar, a little smoky. maybe an old boyfriend used to wear it. you shrug it off, grabbing a mango or two and popping it in a produce bag before hocking it in. more veggies for a greek salad. an onion. some pre-packaged turkey slices. 

you turn into the first frozen food section, weaving through more people who just stand there and you grit your teeth. you snag some frozen broccoli, the coolness bringing you a moment of calm so that you don't lose your mind inside the store. more like traitor joe's. you grab a few more things, a veggie medley for a tofu scramble, some scallion pancakes that you’ll use as meal replacement because no matter how many times you think you’ll food prep you never do. you see him at the end of the aisle, rifling through bags of frozen shrimp to find one he likes. you notice he has a ring on but it’s on his pointer finger, two more rings on the hand that holds his cart by his hip – a silver chain dangles from what you assume is his wallet in his back pocket. his keys jingle from a carabiner by his front belt loop. slut, you think to yourself. you grab a bag of small frozen salmon filets, not paying much mind to your grocery store boyfriend of the week when you turn the corner to the next frozen food aisle. he’s there not soon after you, grabbing frozen fruit medleys and a few bars of chocolate on the non-frozen shelving above. you aren’t sure if he sees you, but you see him. you can smell the suede and spice of his cologne as his moves past you to the other end. bread is on the back wall of the store, you want to get sourdough but you know you’ll just eat it plain and not make sandwiches so you opt for the tuscan loaf instead. you snag a bag of mini bagels, forgoing the small baguettes this time. you can’t afford the good burrata this week for any special girl dinner you come up with, so it’s best to not have it around if you can’t pair it with anything pretty. further down the back wall you get to snacks and don’t ignore the bag of yogurt covered pretzels – a basket must. seaweed snacks for salmon rice bowls. plantain chips. Your basket feels a little heavy but at least this errand is almost over. you turn down the pasta, beans, and rice aisle and there he is turning down the other end. you both catch each other this time, because this time feels like it’s not a coincidence. you both break eye contact as quickly as you make it, both of you looking down and smiling to yourselves. you feel the heat on your cheeks but you don’t see his blush, both of you too preoccupied with whatever you have to pick up to pay attention to the other. you smell the suede and smoke even after you lose him to the next couple of aisles. 

pre-packaged tortellini, lox, shredded cheese. chicken thighs. a six pack of some pretty sounding beer you’ve never tried. your basket overflows but it’s fine. the errand is over, at least here, before you need to run into target which for some reason is far less overstimulating. he’s a few people ahead of you on the opposite line, still leaning over the edge of his cart with his hands hanging, one thumbing a text to someone before he stands up fully to push the cart ahead. he looks over his shoulder and your eyes briefly meet for a moment – heat on your cheeks – before he moves ahead to turn down the long row of cashiers to pay. you don’t see him when it’s your turn and by the time you’re done paying you’ve already forgotten about him, lost in a flirty conversation with the guy ringing you up. target only has half of what you need and that’s fine because nothing else will fit in the big canvas bags you brought with you for your groceries and it’s at least an eight minute walk back to the train. you groan when you get back out into the heat, the boiler room of the subway cooking you as you make it down to the platform. a pleasant sigh passes your lips when you see it’s at least only a four minute wait until your train makes it to you – only a few more minutes of suffering before you’re on your way back to your air conditioned studio apartment. you look across the platform where some old lady’s push cart rattles as it makes it down the stairs on the other side. her little body walking ahead, a voice saying ‘i got it, ma’am don’t worry,’ echos down into the chamber of the subway.

there he is. a canvas bag on each arm filled to the brim and the push cart lifted in front of him. while you can’t see from this distance, you have a feeling you’d like how his arms looked at full capacity like this. the cart’s metallic jingle continues when he places it on the concrete ground, pushing it over to the woman who now sits pleasantly on the bench. you watch their conversation while they say quiet ‘thank yous’ and ‘your welcomes’ to each other and he checks his phone while he finds a spot to stand, waiting for his train on the opposite side.

you check your phone just the same and look up again as he puts his phone in the pocket of his vest. his attention catches on you from across the way.

he gives you a small wave and smiles. he has a nice smile, infectious.

“hi.”

you wave back with two fingers, a small salute, “hey.”

“i’m eddie,” he starts as the red glow of the light on your train starts to pull in. 

the chug, chug, chug starting to drown him out. he raises his voice with a boyish grin, you hear him just before the train obscures him from view – whooshing past you as it pulls into the station. “i normally go to trader’s on wednesdays!”

you get on the train when the doors open, seeing him still on the platform, searching for you in the windows. you put your hand up again in an awkward wave and he grins when he finds you. ‘stand clear of the closing doors, please!’ he puts a hand back up with two fingers, mouthing out a message. ‘wednesdays around two.’

you give him the okay symbol with your fingers and nod at him, chuckling at the ridiculousness of the situation, he chuckles too. his smile is pretty, lips are full. his two fingers point to his eyes and then at you – ‘see you then’. 

the train pulls away before you get a chance to reply. 

next

[sometimesanalice]

In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right, the scalloped white one with gold rim.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head. 

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby. Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please?”

Bradley takes in a couple measured breathes with you, and feels the moment your body relaxes into his.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach and enjoying this moment of calm with you.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.   

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

You hum in contentment, your finger lightly tracing over the shiny gold band of his wedding ring.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as the two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks. A soft, knowing grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who helped raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Twins.

Bradley sometimes still couldn’t believe it. When the tech has announced that you were cooking not one, but two future Bradshaw’s, his heart had nearly burst from his chest from the shock and joy. A gift from his late father’s side of the family.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Wren Bradshaw and Millie Lark Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[mintmatcha]

I think we need saints for smaller things. Minor gods of the day to day. The woman who passes me the perfect orange, from the pile of lemon pale fruit : Patron Saint of citrus under finger nails, the divine ruler of juice dripping down your chin. The girl who came into my store with the gold in her hair and the smile on her lips: goddess of marigolds and fleeting love stories

[saltofmercury]

omg yas fluffy könig can we have domestic scenes of him and reader just doing stuff around the house wearing his casual tshirt and sweatpants 🫣😍

yeah….. I went a little overboard but I love him and I love you.

Pairing: König x reader

A/N: hope you like :)

Summary: domestic scenes of your week with König.

"Life”

When König comes back home, he falls back into routine with you…

Monday:

Since it’s the start of the week that he gets back from a mission, he starts slowly going back to routine. He’s already been up since 4AM at the gym, working out and decompressing from the mission. He knows you won’t be up until 6:45, so he has plenty of time to be at the gym, come home and shower. 

When he showers, he uses a citrus body wash, (because you had mentioned that orange/citrus body washes are good for waking up) and if he’s staying home, he wears a fitted white t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and black socks. He knows he’s going to be lounging around the house, so he makes sure he’s comfortable.

He always does laundry on Monday, because he’s a believer in getting boring things done before the weekend. (Same thing with dinners, he eats his ‘boring’ food first, then gets to the good stuff,)

By the time you’re awake, he’s got a lunch packed for you and your coffee in a to-go cup.

Most of Monday is laundry, and putting it away, while he naps and waits for you to come home.

When you do get home, you two order take out and have dinner together. His excuse is “because you’re being hit with the reality of the start of the week, it must be hard”, so he just wants you to feel at home.

After dinner you two get cozy in your pjs and get in bed by 8:30pm. You were NEVER one to be in bed early, you’re more of staying up late but König has dragged you into his early routine saying constantly 

“You can be on your phone in bed, come on, it feels lonely without you.”

Then nagging you about 

“That will ruin your circadian rhythm you know”

Even though he's always watching something on his iPad in bed. 

Tuesday 

Tuesdays are grocery days. You weren’t sure WHY König insisted on Tuesdays, it seemed odd enough going into the store on this day, but it wasn’t until you two both went that you realized there are less people in the store this particular day. Which could be why. You like leading the way while he reads the list and pushes the cart behind you. 

Every time you pass the produce aisle, he looks at you with so much love and adoration, he gently taps you with the cart, so that you’re looking back at him as he always brings up “remember when we first met here?” and of course you do, because it was humiliating for you, but König melted knowing someone wanted to get to know him. Now look at you two, going through the aisles and practically living together? 

He likes watching how you pick the fruit and then sneak bites of grapes on sale. He’s also a punk and loves to shout things like “I think she’s stealing” whenever you take another grape. You shush him, feeling your face turn red, and he lives for this because he loves seeing you blush. 

Tuesdays are soup days, no matter the weather. König remembered you mentioning that your mom used to make different kinds of soups when you were younger and how it brought you so much comfort after coming home from school. SO he picks a new soup every week for you to try. He tried asking you a couple times about the kind of soup your mom made, but you always give little to no details 

“It’s just veggie”

“We had garlic bread with it”

“Sometimes it was chicken”

Wednesday

Wednesdays you get the luxury of working from home. It’s your favorite day of the week.

This is also one of König's favorite days.

He's up early before you, makes you a cup of coffee as you brush your teeth, you wrap your hair up away from your face, and get into comfy sweats. 

He places the coffee on your desk, and he gets to baking. König always has some sort of recipe he wants to try. Baking reminds him of home, so he’ll always bake bread for the week, and a dessert you two share at dinner. 

He needs to have something to do or else he’s constantly near you and you two get distracted. One time he didn’t know what to do with himself when he got back from a mission and he just sat in your office asking you 

“What's that?”

“What are you doing?”

“Was that the lady with the mass email mistake?”

He always walks into the room pretending he loses things muttering things like, “Where could I have placed it?”

Followed by,

 “OH RIGHT I found it” 

He sneaks up behind you, grabs a hold of your chin, and goes in for a deep kiss. You can’t help but giggle because he’s so cute and clearly soooo bored. 

You guys take a break, have lunch together, and you try to sneak open the oven to see what he made for dessert for tonight. He’s so quick to pick you up and lead you to the table. 

Sometimes he surprises you because he’s not a judgy person or will say mean things so when you’re talking his ear off about the first couple of hours of work, you hear the “what a fucker” or “that guy is a shithead” you’re always taken aback but ALSO you’re kind of happy he’s taken a little bit of a mean side to do that.

Dinner usually is made by both of you. He likes to watch you tell him what happened at work today apart from your lunch break. He loves seeing you animated, throwing your hands in the air, how your eyebrows almost touch your hairline, the way your mouth curves when you call someone “stupid.” He loves that you share the rest of the day with him even though he can hear most of it down the hallway.

When it comes to dessert, no matter HOW many times he’s made you something new, König gets so shy about showing you.

He looks at you and says “ok tell me if you don’t like it.” and you can see his nerves in him, how he will not make eye contact with you, but will focus on your lips instead watching you take the first bite. He chews on the left side of his tongue, and then looks up at your eyes when you moan about how good it is.

“Really?” he says, wide eyed

“Yes really!”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Babe I'm not” as you have another spoonful of it.

Thursday

Thursday is König day. Apart from your usual morning routine, he likes to get into sports on this day. He likes all kinds of sports. Football, baseball, basketball, soccer, rugby, tennis, even golf. 

He’s constantly watching something from any country, any sport. He also likes to have this day to play video games. He’s always playing a game online with Hornagi.

—Horangi, who he always thought was just a work friend, became his new fantasy football friend, an online game friend, and best friend.

When you come home and sneak up behind him, Horangi mutters online—

 “well game over” and König is quick to turn around to hug you and welcome you home. Before you get into a heated makeout session, you break the kiss to say hi to Horangi, 

“Hiiiii Horangi” 

He waves at you, but he’s still talking on the headpiece to König who is relaying messages to you.

“He says, hi and if we can have 20 more minutes.” König is smiling and holding back laughter while you nod “no” towards the screen and Horangi is running his hand through his hair.

You take the headset off and grab his face, and tell König

“1 hour and we’re having dinner” you smile, wave at Horangi and leave the room.

During dinner, König gets so animated telling you about all the things he and Horangi were playing today. The line up they have in their fantasy football, the updates on whichever sport they had been watching. You love hearing the jokes Horangi tells which make König almost spill his water when he’s retelling them. You’re so happy to see that he has a friend he can talk to and is interested in his hobbies.

Friday: 

After a long day of work, coming home to König dressed up in a tight knit sweater, dress pants, and dress shoes kind of makes your heart race. It’s so fun seeing him not in his usual sweatpants and t-shirt when he’s at the house, or in his work uniform covering his face. He looks so good wearing a watch, with his hair combed to the side. He always feels/seems out of place, because he’s never had to dress up for anybody, or go anywhere, but he knows dating you is important and he tries his best to take you out, spend time with you, and give his full attention to you. Plus he likes how you blush when you come home and look at him. He knows it's a rare thing to see him like this. He does like the attention from you.

König has a list of completing small things with his social anxiety. Friday is date night and you two always go out for dinner. During the car ride there, he tells you what he usually wants to accomplish. Sometimes it's small things like asking for extra condiments, ordering for himself, (which he's able to do but sometimes he just prefers you do it) ((accents)) or even just getting the attention of the waiter. So you try to help him reach his goal for the week/day. You’re really supportive of him trying to get his goal done. 

After dinner you guys walk around and eat ice cream, come back home, and settle on starting a new show.

Saturday:

Farmers Market day! This happened when one day König was complaining about the honey tasting weird.

“This isn’t organic, this tastes weird”

König went online to try and find a supplier that could deliver good honey.

After constantly searching and searching, he told you that you two needed to go to the farmers market so that you could try this so-called organic and sweet honey.

Once there, you two were on the search for the honey stand, stopped by several vendors selling breads, produce, handmade candles, jewelry, soaps, and you two eagerly tried the samples people gave out.

Now that has happened, it became routine for you two to come on Saturday mornings, get a coffee from a french press stand, shop around for things for dinner, and then get breakfast at a truck.

Sunday: 

Sunday you leave for cleaning. Sunday you love to put on a pot of coffee, put your earphones on, and just clean away. Sunday is when König gets to “sleep in.” He tried to help you one time but you weren’t exactly happy with his version of cleaning, so he stays out of your way, only coming out to either have lunch with you, or to throw the trash away. 

It doesn’t take you long to clean, so after cleaning your house, you shower, get comfortable in his shirt, and lay down on the couch together. If you’re not watching something together, he’s laid out on the couch, you in between his legs reading a book while he plays with your hair. 

By 4pm, you start to get the Sunday blues of going back to work, so König tries to distract you with lists he’s already created to help you. You two have a dinner of leftovers or take out, and spend the rest of the afternoon lazily hanging around, stealing kisses from each other, or glances toward one another.

König still can’t believe he would have ever had someone living with him, someone he looks forward to seeing every morning and afternoon, someone he shares a space with, and hes glad he’s found his person he can do all these things for, because whatever his life was before this, it wasn’t truly his life.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Revelations

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Yautja (Platonic (for now))

Word Count: 2421

Summary: Either you are crazy or something is mentally wrong, but you feel something… something for We'ar-ow. You need an ear to rant to and spill your guts to before. Someone who can offer a reasonable solution to this issue. Xilomere comes to mind. The old man is more than happy to hear about the situation and push Reader towards We'ar-ow.

Author Note: I'm getting excited about this story. I know it'll have to end but it's getting good up in here! Thank you all for the wonderful and kind comments you leave on each chapter.

Edit: sorry about the grammar mistakes! Should all be fixed!

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17

It’s quiet in We’ar-ow’s quarters. The Yautja had long left you to fulfill her duties as a monarch. She had offered you the chance to come along and sit with her on the steps of her throne, under her watch and safety. Yet, after the encounter with Dwainet and his posse, you didn’t feel it necessary to endanger your life for a different scenery. It was safer in here, away from everyone, behind at least two locked doors.

This alone time also offered you the time to reformulate your plans of escape. It was no longer an easier life in the hands of We’ar-ow. Dwainet wanted you dead, as much it hurt to say that. It was the truth. He wanted you dead by his hands. The only way you would be completely safe from him was by jettisoning yourself from the ship.

Though, the dangers of the universe still hang over you like a boulder about to drop, everything you experience on this ship wasn’t worth it. Not with death around every corner you turn.

You wanted off this ride before it ended your life short. To be honest, you should’ve left the moment Dwainet renounced his profound love for you. Then, you wouldn’t have be dragged into this battle between the Monarch and your ex-mate. One wants you dead and the other wants you… for what?

That’s something you’ve yet to figure out. Why does she care about you so much?

What Dwainet said about you to her had made sense. If your position and aliveness was threatening her throne, why not get rid of you? You’re the problem. Solving it would ease the tension within her clan.

But no. Here you were, still well alive and living in her quarters. None of made sense.

Hunger gnawed inside of your mind. With a grunt, you stood up from your curled up position on the couch and meandered over to the kitchenette. The small space offered enough for her to store snacks and prepare dinner for the two of you. You plucked some sort of fruit that resembled a spiky banana and peeled it open.

Your back leaned against the counters as you munch away on the interesting fruit. It had a strange citrus yet sweet taste to it. Enough to bring you to finish it off and throw away the peel.

Out of everything, We’ar-ow’s actions have softened you. You had to unwillingly admit that thought. A broken heart makes people act differently afterwards. That had to be why you felt a strange pull towards her. She was the only person on this ship after Dwainet who was being kind to you. That had to be it!

Something in your chest didn’t agree with the thought. You ran your digits through your locks.

It’s not like she wasn’t not attractive in her own alien way. Her structure both bodily and facially weren’t bad per se. She is an alien after all with a totally different facial structure.

In a shorten term, she’s pretty.

Your breath caught in your throat. A curse falling from your dry lips. You liked her. This… these feelings. One of your hands clutched your hair at the roots and slightly pulled on them. How was… but after Dwainet, you swore off any love from this cruel species. A whine sounded in the air. Your brows forged together. You couldn’t believe this.

Worst of all, with this ball already rolling downhill, it’s gained so much momentum you didn’t believe it could be stopped. You truly had to leave. You had to escape before your second chance ended you in a position worse than before.

Dead.

All of this was bottling up inside of you, a volcano ready to burst in every direction. It was a weight it became too great to carry without releasing it. You mindlessly gnawed on the inside of your lip and glanced over at the discarded tablet. Only a very few contacts had been added to the device. All people We’ar-ow trusted closely. One of them came to mind, someone who seemed extremely close to We’ar-ow in a friendly companion. Even to you, he was as friendly as the dominant race could be to outsiders. That was saying something too.

Besides We’ar-ow, he was probably the only other one on this ship you could talk to. You remember in passing, he offered himself to the two of you for any services. An ear to rant to was what you needed for right now. Anything to make it look less like you were a crazed human on a ship full to the brim with aliens.

You sauntered over to the couch and scooped the device from the cushion. This might be a bad idea to invite the Yautja into your safe quarters, but you believed he wouldn’t hurt you. Not if he was close to We’ar-ow.

A few taps brought you to the messaging screen. It took less than a minute to figure out what to type and send it to him. You spun on your heel and plop down on the couch. From there, you were going back to learning the specs of how to pilot a Yautja spacecraft.

It was less than a paragraph read for a response to pop up at the top. Shocked, you clicked on it and felt your lip’s part. He agreed. He was heading over now. You scrambled to your feet and sputtered to yourself, eyes glued to the screen. Stupidly, your gaze snapped over the room as if you had prepare for a guest.

It took a few moments to collect yourself before settling back down on the comfortable cushions. Everything’s fine. You took some deep breaths to cool down your racing heart before drawing your attention to the tablet again. You used it to pass the time until he came knocking at the door.

As you were about to slip off of the couch and open the door, it slid back to reveal the familiar form of Xilomere. His dark moss green scales were an anticipated sight that you welcomed with a short nod and respectfully closed mouth smile.

He strutted into the living space and rounded the other loveseat style chair. His weary old bones cracked while he relaxed into the cushions. One of his legs was thrown over the other. He rests his arms on top of the couch and reclined as much as possible in the stagnant chair. His baby blue eyes were glued to your form swallowed up in the cushions.

“So, what do I owe to have the wonderful pleasure of having a conversation with you?” he teased with an shit-eating grin that consumed his whole face.

You took a lungful of air and quickly pushed it out. “Well, I needed to talk with someone,” you answered and scratched at the back of your bicep.

Xilomere snorted, shoulders jumping with the motion. “I’d gathered as much from your message. But I’m surprised you had called upon little ol’ me and not your Yautja.” His greying tresses shifted while he titled his head to the side.

Your lips were pressed tightly together. “It’s.. about her,” you admitted and dropped your tense shoulders.

The Yautja made an intrigued noise and motioned with his intact arm at you to continue. “Please do tell. Trouble in paradise?” Your face burned with shame.

A shake of your head was quick to deny anything. “No, no. Nothing… nothing like, besides what’s going on. But, I-“ you cut yourself short and peeked to the side, unable to look the Yautja in the eye for too long. He was patient and waited for the story to be told. “Okay, well. I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete fool…”

He chuckled and leaned forward, resting his only elbow on a knee. “Just get it out, ooman. I’m not here to judge.” His words had the desired effect on your trembling form.

“Okay, okay. Um, I-I think, no. It’s-fuck!” you spat in frustration then scrambled off of the cushion. “I have a fucking crush on We’ar-ow.” Words screamed for the only other occupant to clearly hear in the room. Your shoulders rapidly moved up and down with each heaving breath. You made a whining noise and collapsed on the couch again.

“It’s shouldn’t be possible. I swore off love because of Dwainet. Your race is cruel and harsh. I learned I didn’t want to be apart of it after he dropped me out of nowhere. And now I have a crush on the leader of this clan. I feel like I’m back in middle school,” you ranted. After the last words left your mouth, you buried your face into your hands with a groan. “I don’t know what to do.”

A silence engulfs the duo. It felt hopeless in this situation. You couldn’t escape this feeling, not until you left this ship. You slept in the same bed as her, not cuddling but enjoying her heat and scent. Fuck, you liked her smell. You liked her touch. You liked her voice. You were smitten. If Xilomere wasn’t here to watch as you broke down internally, you would start bawling out your eyes out or started to destroy something in here.

The couch across from you squeaked at the shifting of weight. You felt a presence in front of you and peeked through your fingers to find Xilomere kneeling in front of you.

“I’ve known We’ar-ow for a long, long time. Since she became a hunter. The only one to survive the hunt.” He reached forwards and used the tip of his claw to tilt your head out of your hands. “I know a lot about her as a hunter but also as a person.”

Confusion morphs its way on your face. Why was he telling you this? This wasn’t comforting at all. “You, my dear ooman, are stupid.” You jerked your head back and sputtered out words. He pressed a finger to your lips to silence you. “Listen. Your species is stupid as a whole, so there’s nothing new there. But, I know you have a brain. Use it.”

It still didn’t click together. He sighed and stood back up to his full height. Shorter than We’ar-ow he still towered over you. He lumbered over to the couch once more and plopped down on it. “Go after her. Don’t let fear control you. It’ll kill you.”

The puzzled expression returned. “’Go after her’?” you repeated then shook your head. “Why in the world would I put myself up for failure? She’ll kill me if I told her I had this stupid little crush on her.”

Xilomere raised a brow at you. “Would she kill you?” he rephrased with one of his mandibles quirking up alongside his brow. You opened your mouth to speak before slamming it shut.

Things were beginning to click together in a terribly slow process. As if the pieces were sunken in tar. Then, you shook your head to dismiss his words. “Of course she would. I’m just her pet.” The words hurt your heart to say but it was the truth. All she saw you as was a pet. She only tolerates your presence for the time before the novelty wears off.

The Yautja snorted again and rolled his head. “You’re making me lose hope here, ooman,” he groaned and shook his massive head. The trinkets attached to his tresses clinked against one another with the motion.

“I don’t know what you want from me. I’m nothing more than just her pet. I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten rid of me for all the trouble my existence alone is causing her.” Xilomere stared long and hard at you, giving you a look that read ‘do you get it yet?’ But you didn’t know what he was trying to refer to without saying it outright.

His shoulders sagged. “I’ve lost all faith in your species because you,” he judged but the glint in his blue eyes told you a different story.

He turned his head to the side so his ear was facing more towards the door. “Well, that’s my cue to leave. It’s been… I won’t say fun since you’re still so blind to the picture. But, nice talk.” He rose from the seat and strolled over to the door.

It opened not only to his presence but reveal the familiar pink form standing in the doorway. Xilomere placed a palm on her shoulder and gave it a shake. “Your ooman is dumb,” he merely stated then moved pass her down the hall. She stood there stunned, peered over her shoulder down at him, then over to you. She shrugged her shoulders then walked into her quarters.

The door slid and locked shut behind her, resealing the room for your safety. She strolled over to you on the couch and plucked you off the cushions. Not a word was uttered to you. We’ar-ow threw you over her shoulder and carried you into her room. A yelp escaped your lips as you scrambled for purchase. The Yautja stopped at the side of her bed and tossed you onto it.

A pout found its way to your face. “Hey! What was that for?!” you asked with a stern voice and glared shortly at her.

Either she wasn’t listening or just didn’t care, she crawled onto the bed with you. It wasn’t terribly late in the day to sleep, let alone for her. We’ar-ow snared an arm around your midsection and tugged you to her torso. You struggled, unsure of what was happening, but a short purr had you going lax.

Then, the Yautja laid down on the comfortable mattress and curled around your form. She was spooning but due to enormous size difference to you, she engulfed you into her body.

Even if you wanted to escape, you knew she wouldn’t release you. Her hold wasn’t tight but firm to let you know there wasn’t an opportunity for an escape. Deep down, you didn’t truly mind. She needed the comfort so you relented and went lax in her arms. We’ar-ow placed her head on top of yours and went still. You knew she wasn’t asleep due to her breathing, but the moment was peaceful.

Part 1 |Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Second Chance - Chapter 6

Masterlist

Warning: mention of death, sickness, mention of the Red Room trauma, lots and lots of teasing, self-doubt, Yelena needs a hug

Word Count: 3.1k

Relationships: Yelena x reader, Natasha x reader (platonic), Wanda x reader (platonic)

Note: a lot of this chapter is based on my own personal experience with the disease. As I've learned chemotherapy effects everyone very differently. The type of chemo the reader is on is based on her type of cancer but the treatment plan may not be 100% accurate.

“Come on,” you said, peeling the skin off the banana as you followed Natasha and Wanda from the training room to the common area. The duo just completed training sessions and you wanted them to go on a small adventure with you. You could go alone but that wasn’t fun. “It will be a quick trip to Central Park,” you threw the banana peel into the trash.

“I don’t think the words quick and Central Park can be in the same sentence,” Natasha mumbled, filling a glass of water.

“Besides,” Wanda said. “Shouldn’t you be taking it easy?” You huffed angrily and chewed on the last piece of your banana. “You’ve had a busy morning,” she added quickly. But you needed to have a busy morning before the steroids left your system and the aftermath was not pretty. So, you woke up and made blueberry waffles with vanilla protein powder and a side of fruit. You played fairy princesses with Morgan, sat with Tony in his lap to learn about his arc reactors, and listened on a conference call with Pepper. You needed to keep your mind and body moving. All you wanted to do was see Central Park in the winter and take pictures so you could draw them later. You loved the seasons; fall was your favorite. The colors, the crisp air, and everything apple flavored.

“Please,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to go alone.” The duo looked at each other, having a silent conversation.

“What are you whining about, Easton?” The blonde appeared and grabbed an orange from the counter top.

“First, rude. I wasn’t whining,” she chuckled. The smell of citrus began to fill the air as she peeled the orange. “Second, I want to go to Central Park but no one will go with me.” Okay, maybe you whining a little bit.

“I’ll go with you,”

“Sestra,” Natasha warned but she waved her off.

“Are you serious?” You questioned.

“Yeah,” the blonde shrugged. “I have nothing going on and Kate, America, and Peter aren’t going to be back until tonight.” Ooh. That was exciting. You couldn’t wait to meet the other people that lived on your floor.

“Amazing. I’ll go get ready.” Walking around New York in March wearing shorts and a T-shirt was not going to cut it. You took off in the direction of your floor. Faintly hearing Wanda calling after you to dress warm.

*

Yelena watched you run off towards the elevator, acting like an excited child who was let loose in a candy store. She figured you and Peter would get along well. “Ouch,” she said as Natasha hit her on the back of the head when the metal doors closed. “That hurt.” A pout formed on her lips. “What was that for?”

“She needs to take it easy,” the redhead said. Yelena rolled her eyes.

“You are acting like we are about to climb Mount Everest. She will be fine. I’ll keep an eye on her,” she threw the pieces of the skin from her orange away. “I read that it’s good to keep cancer patients moving if they have the energy for it.” It was like she said something in a language that Wanda or her sister didn’t understand. She looked at both of them. “Did I say something wrong?” Wanda recovered quickly.

“No,” she rushed out. Yelena raised an eyebrow in question. “It’s just,” her voice trailed off. “You researched on how to help her.”

“Yeah,” the blonde simply said. “I figured she would be here for a while so why not figure out ways to help,” she wasn’t sure if she liked the way Natasha was looking at her. It was soft. “You guys are acting weird. I’m going to get ready.”

‘It was normal, completely normal,’ that was the mantra Yelena repeated in her head. Someone that was living in her home was sick so of course she looked up how to help them. It meant nothing. Right?

*

“For you,” you handed the blonde a hot chocolate you bought from a pop-up stand next to the park. She took it with a smile that didn’t quite reach her green eyes. During the entire drive to Central Park, she was quiet as if she was a million miles away, lost in her world. You wanted to ask if she was okay but the Black Widow didn’t seem like the sharing type.

“So,” she said. “Where to?” You shrugged, sipping on the sweet drink. It wasn’t abnormally cold. The weather app said the high was 52 and the low was 36, right now it was 49 but you loved hot chocolate. It would be summer, a high of 92, and still, you craved the sugary drink.

“Not sure. I just want to walk around and take pictures.” She nodded and you ventured into Central Park with the Black Widow by your side. Few words were exchanged but the silence wasn’t awkward. Normally, you were the type of person who hated it when it was quiet. But you found the silence to be calm and peaceful. She let you take pictures of whatever you wanted, not huffing when you stopped for the millionth time. You even snapped a quick picture of her when a cute German shepherd puppy walked over to her. It perfectly captured the way her face lit up.

Soon the ache in your bones began to rear its ugly head and you were getting tired. Maybe you should have listened to Wanda and Natasha. The blonde knew there was a change. You started to slow down and you weren’t taking as many pictures. “Why don’t we sit down at the bench before we head back?”

“I’m fine,” you weren’t sure if you said that to reassure her or yourself.

“Well I’m not, you dragged me all around this park and I need a break. So we are sitting,” you knew what she was doing, making it appear that she needed a break so you wouldn’t have to admit it. There was a nagging voice in your head for you to call her out on it or tell her you weren’t weak. Instead, you followed her to the bench. A small sigh of relief escaped your lips when you sat down. The bench was facing a family, two mothers were watching their daughters being chased by a dog. There was enough snow on the ground that made for a soft landing when one of the girls fell. You glanced at the Russian, who was watching the same scene you were. Again there was a far-off look in her eyes. You knew to an extent the horrors she, Natasha, and hundreds of girls went through. It was part of the files that Natasha leaked. You spent hours and hours combing through everything. The blonde looked away and became interested in the rings she was wearing.

“How are your hands not cold?” You asked breaking the silence.

“I’m Russian. I don’t get cold,” you rolled your eyes.

“That was awful,” you watched as she fought the smile that crept onto her face. You leaned back on the bench, your arms stretched on the back of the seat. You wondered why people hated winter. Maybe it was due to the sun not being out. The way life seemed to slow down and the snowy landscapes looked sterile and lifeless. The vegetation changed too. The lush green, yellow, and red leaves that once covered the trees were gone - left empty branches and leaving trees that looked like skeletons. Those people saw winter as death.

But you saw it as a rest, a white sheet for a new start. A time for nature to do some maintenance. Death was final, you knew it better than anyone. Winter was moving, only less subtle. With spring around the corner, there was a rebirth and everyone enjoyed all of winter’s handwork. “What are you thinking about?” She asked. When you looked at her, she was already staring at you.

“Death actually,” her expression didn’t falter but her green eyes gave her away. She wasn’t expecting that. “I think about it a lot nowadays. Where do you think we go after this? Will we see the pearly white gates?” Yelena chuckled, looking forward. You didn’t miss the bitterness in her voice.

“I don’t think there is a heaven or hell,” she admitted. “I just hope whatever is next is kinder.”

“For you or everyone?” You asked. She was quiet again as she thought about your question. You were a little afraid you overstepped but the blonde sighed.

“A select people,” she said. “I want the afterlife to be kind to those who didn’t get a kind life this time around. They deserve a second chance.” You noticed she left herself out of that, not believing she deserved a happy ending in this life or the next.

“Do you want to head back to the tower?” There was a chill running down your spine and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold air or the conversation. Wordlessly, she stood up and offered her hand for assistance. You took it and stopped the gasp that almost left your lips. She was right. Even through your gloved hand, you felt her warmth. For a split second, you wondered what it would be like to have her skin against yours. Immediately, you chased that thought away. Your friend deserved a second chance at love, life, and happiness due to how cruel the world was to her. That second chance couldn’t be with you.

*

You were not hungry as you sat at the counter top while everyone was at the table. Wanda made a soup, you were pretty sure it was squash but the smell and the little you had was making your stomach twist. Huffing, you pushed the bowl away and ate some of the crackers the witch gave you. “You okay, kid?” Steve asked, getting his second bowl. Right now you envied the super soldier serum that ran through his veins.

“Yeah,” you forced a smile. “Just not hungry.” He frowned at that. “I’m gonna take this to my room if anyone asks where I went, okay?”

“Of course, if you need anything let me know,” you nodded, too tired to give him. A verbal response, and took the barely touched soup to your room.

You placed it in your fridge and made a beeline to the couch. God, you hated feeling like this. All the energy you once had was slowly leaving and exhaustion plus an ache in your bones was replacing it. Turning on a movie you’ve seen before and pulling a blanket over your body, you were quick to fall asleep.

“Miss. Easton,” Friday’s voice woke you up. It took a second for you to register where you were and who was talking to you. Once your brain wasn’t clouded with sleep you hummed. “Miss. Belova is at your door. It appears that Miss. Bishop, Miss. Chavez and Mr. Parker have returned from their mission.” You nodded, sitting up and listening to your bones crack.

“Tell her she can come in,” the door opened and you glanced at it. Your place hasn’t changed much since the last time she was here. The plan was to finish unpacking after this week of treatment, with some help from the team. “Hey Belova,” you remembered the AI calling her that when she came to help you. The blonde rolled her eyes at the use of her last name. “What’s up?”

“We are having a small get-together,” she said. “I wanted to see if you wanted to join. Buttt,” she sat down next to you. “You kind of look like shit.” You gasped.

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” you punched her arm, not hard enough but she faked that it did. But her question was still left unanswered, did you want to join them? A part of you wanted to hang out with people around your age. However, you weren’t sure how fun you were going to be.

“If you aren’t feeling up to it, you can meet them tomorrow,” her voice was softer. It made you look at her. There was something in her green eyes but it was gone too quick for you to decode. Maybe you imagined it.

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed. “Just give me a second.” It was a little more than a second as you went into your bathroom. The cold water you splashed on your face worked to wake you up. You brushed your teeth, put deodorant on, and placed the beanie on your head. When you returned, the blonde was still sitting on the couch. “You coming?” You asked. She got up quickly and walked over to the door to open it. You were used to the quiet. Every time you stepped out of your room, there was no one else around. This time it was different. There was music playing softly and laughter, a lot of it. It made you smile.

“Hey idiots,” the blonde called out. The group turned to look at you and one of them fumbled with his phone to turn down the music. “This is Y/n, Stark’s kid. That’s Kate, America, and Peter; they live on this floor. MJ and Ned like to think they live here.” You giggled as the girl with long curly hair rolled her eyes and flipped the Black Widow off.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kate said. The group was sitting on the floor with their backs resting on the couch; beers and a deck of cards on the floor. Kate’s arm was around America’s shoulder and she gestured to the empty spot next to her with the beer she was drinking. You took the silent confirmation to join the circle. The Black Widow sat down next to you and accepted a beer from Ned. He offered you one but you declined. You weren’t much of a drinker per-diagnosis and mixing alcohol and cancer treatment wasn’t ideal. Plus, there was no way MJ, Peter, and Ned were legal but if one of them was risking their life to keep the world safe, drinking wasn’t bad.

“So,” Peter said, taking the deck of cards from the middle and began to shuffle them. “How’s living in the tower?”

“Good,” you answered. “Everyone has been nice. Just,” you paused. “It’s a little weird.”

“Weird?” America questioned. “How so?” You saw the Black Widow shift next to you, putting her knee up and resting her arm on top.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I guess I’ve gotten used to being alone.” You had friends, some of whom you considered family. But once your mom died, you preferred being alone.

“Well,” MJ said, slowly. “I’ve learned that here it’s impossible to be alone.”

*

Yelena knew you were getting tired. She saw it on the way you curled up under the blanket Ned got for you. You stayed quiet during the conversation and opted out of the silly games Peter wanted to play. Soon the Black Widow felt your head fall against her shoulder and your body curled up against hers, no doubt trying to steal some of her warmth. Just by sitting next to you, Yelena could feel how cold you were.

Deep down, she thanked all her years of training as she was able to keep her body from jumping. Her face rained static, trying not to portray the way her heart was beating in her chest. The heat that was threatening to grow across her cheeks. Kate let out a low whistle. “Looks like someone has a new cuddle buddy,” the archer teased. The blonde sent daggers with her to her friend.

“Awe stop babe,” America said, playfully hitting her girlfriend on the chest. “We are witnessing little Lena’s heart grow three sizes.” The group tried to stop themselves from laughing which ended up in Peter snorting. Yelena felt her ears turning a slight pink from being the center of the teasing, something she wasn’t used to. It was payback from the constant teasing she started when America and Kate refused to accept their feelings for one another. But her jaw clenched.

“If any of you, suki (bitches), wake her up. I will kill you.” She threatened but her friends didn’t take her threat seriously. They simply rolled their eyes and continued with the conversation. Yelena knew you were tired when she walked into your room. There was a selfish reason that she asked you to join them when she knew you needed rest. She enjoyed her time at the park, more than she thought she would. When you didn’t join the team for dinner, she wanted to spend a little more time with you. Because you were friends. Friends that liked to spend time together. Just friends.

It was a mistake though. Alone she could mask the way her body reacted to you. There was no hiding it in front of them. This group had a unique way to break down every wall she learned how to put up.

A soft groan left her lips and the conversation around you stopped. Your eyes fluttered open and Yelena saw the confusion in your eyes morph to realization then panic. “Shit,” you said, scrambling away from her and creating a healthy amount of distance between you and her. Yelena had to stop the frown forming on her face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay,” she reassured you and it was. However, she was a tad worried that you could hear her heart pounding. “I guess you needed the sleep.” You nodded, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Thank you for this,” you said to the group. “We’ll have to do this again.”

“Totally,” Peter smiled as you stood up.

“Welcome to the floor,” America added. A chorus of good nights followed you to your room. The Black Widow couldn’t help but watch you walk away. Kate chuckled.

“You got it bad, Belova.” The Russian took a pillow from the couch and threw it at the archer. Unfortunately, Kate caught the pillow, stuck her tongue out at her, and placed the pillow behind her head.

“Don’t listen to her,” America smiled. “Besides, she’s got it just as bad.” Yelena almost choked on the beer she was drinking. There was no way. You had more important things to worry about than deal with whatever Yelena was feeling. Besides, who would want her? She was a monster, a killer, someone undeserving of love and a happy ending.

_

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @@wandaromamoff69,

[kedreeva]

I work in a whole foods supply store, and one of our customers is a lovely old lady who lives out on a rural property, way beyond the city limits.

A pair of peacocks have nested and made babies at the edge of her land (two clutches so far this year), and she has taken it upon herself to feed them, so she comes to us to buy food - seeds, chopped nuts and dried fruits.

I know she means well, but she says the babies now come to her door to 'beg' for food, which means they're habituating, so I feel like she's doing them more harm than good.

If you knew of someone doing this, would you leave them to it, or try to dissuade them? Also, is the food I described above actually okay for peacocks?

She says the peahen is a bright, beautiful, unblemished white, which I thought was quite rare? She is going to bring me photos on her next visit...

Unless you're in India, they're not habituating because they're not wild animals, they're feral domestics. If they're hanging around and being fed, congrats, she's got free range peafowl. It's free birds!

As for the mix, I would cut out the nuts. Fruits are fine but they don't really like citrus and they shouldn't have avocado. Fresh fruits are better than dried, dried concentrates the sugars and doesn't provide any hydration. If she'll listen to you, tell her you have a friend that breeds peafowl and that they suggested better treats would be live mealworms or superworms, dubia roaches, farm-raised hornworms, or mouse pinkies. They also like fish (at least feeder fish, but possibly also larger fish they can pick apart) and meats. They can be given veggies, but they don't rip things apart the way chickens do their beaks are not as able to tear into hard things, so veggies should be chopped small. They will happily rip up greens or melons that are cut open though. Banana too! They love banana and berries.

Black oil sunflower seed and safflower are good seeds, limit corn intake. No beans allowed except refried ones. Planting clover in her yard will be a good source of nutrient-rich greens (and good for bees!).

But honestly, a good high-protein dry chow with some water added fresh to it will provide a lot of benefit, just as much attention, and probably be cheaper since you can get 50lb for like $20. I use Belstra 28% turkey starter crumble from a local feed mill. It may not look as interesting but my birds get a LOT of varied treats and chow mash is one they'll eat every day without any hesitation, and leave nothing behind. The only other treats that is true for are bugs and farmer's helper golden egg nugget treats. Even peanuts they have turned their noses up at a couple of times.

As for the white color, it's not that rare. A lot of people don't like to keep them because they get dirty easily and because colored birds often HATE them. Hens often won't mate with them if they can see other males, and males often attack or attempt to chase off white hens. In the wild, a white animal draws attention and opens the flock to predation.

[mysteryshoptls]

R Vil Schoenheit Beastly Garb Personal Story

"I completely regret thinking that!"

[Sunset Savanna – Sunset Villa]

Leona: Yaaaawn…

Vil: Good morning, Leona. You've taken your sweet time waking up. I've been waiting.

Leona: You've been waiting?

Vil: Are you still half-asleep? I'll have you do your job as our tour guide once more today.

Leona: Hah? Your guide? I already did enough of that yesterday.

Vil: Wow. You said you'd "provide quality hospitality," but was that it?

Leona: I even brought you to the specially reserved section of the Elephant Legacy hot spring… You saying there's more you want to do?

Vil: Of course. I came all this way to the Sunset Savanna and applied my UV protection perfectly.

Vil: …Well, if you'd like to take it all back, I don't mind.

Vil: However, in that case, I'll no longer be obligated to participate in Catch the Tail.

Leona: …Tch, fine. May I enquire as to what the great Vil Schoenheit-sama would like to see?

Vil: Oh, you would actually consider what I would like to do? If that's the case, then I would like to request a tour focused on beautification.

Leona: Beautification, huh… Then you should go to the beauty salon here at the hotel.

Leona: Their body treatments made from the plants found here in Sunset Savanna are pretty well known.

Vil: I see… I just looked it up, and it seems to have a wonderfully soothing effect on the skin as well.

Vil: Yesterday, I was running around outside all day, so I would love to focus on self-care today. I'll head there now.

Vil: Fufu, how is it? Do you not think my already beautiful self has gotten even more beautiful?

Leona: Yeah, yeah. Good for you.

Vil: I'm curious about the black soap that they used during the treatment. There wasn't much of a lather, and the scent wasn't too terrible.

Vil: The salon at the hotel didn't have any to provide me… Can it be bought anywhere?

Leona: So you want that black soap next. …There's a store I know. Follow me.

[Sunset Savanna – Sunrise City]

Leona: This beauty store here in the heart of Sunrise City deals with orders from the royal household.

Vil: Oho. This seems promising.

Vil: Skin care items made from plants grown in such a sunny region tend to be very invaluable, since they have a greater moisturizing effect.

Vil: In addition, there are many products that help in clearing the skin here… I wonder which one should I get. It's so difficult to decide.

Leona: Isn't this the black soap thing you were talking about earlier?

Leona: It's made of 100% natural plant products that are native to Sunset Savanna.

Leona: The black coloring seems to come from the ash of burned banana peels. Other ingredients include palm oil and cacao pods.

Vil: Bar soap like this usually gives a soft feel after washing. It's nice to use for delicate dry or sensitive skin.

Vil: I'm sure that I'll be exposed to a lot of UV rays during today's match, so… I should definitely purchase this soap.

Vil: These other skin care products are also all natural cosmetics. This country sincerely does put a lot of emphasis on nature.

Leona: ‘Cause they can't think of anything else to use. …There's other stores that have cosmetics you can take a look at. Once you finish paying, I'll take you to the next one.

Vil: …Despite all his protests, he's doing a pretty good job escorting me around to suit my likes.

Vil: Fufufu, it's not too terrible a feeling using Leona like this.

[Sunset Savanna – Market]

Leona: The stuff that's sold in the Raintree Market are mostly lower cost.

Leona: That store over there has merch made from wild plants like rooibos and baobab.

Vil: They have body lotion, oil, shower gel… Ah, and also lip balms.

Leona: In the next store over, they sell solidified resin. That's a natural fragrance that's been used here forever.

Vil: What an unusual shape. It smells smoky and spicy. And yet at the same time, it has a sweet aroma, like fruit.

Leona: If you want fragrances, they also sell a ton of essential oils.

Vil: I see resin perfumes, as well as herbal and citrus fragrances… There really are a plethora of different products.

Vil: There's much more variety here than I expected. I may run out of time if I try to examine them all.

Storekeep A: Hey, isn't that the top model Vil Schoenheit?

Storekeep B: You're right! I hear if he uses your product, sales just go through the roof!

Storekeep C: VIL-SAN! PLEASE TAKE THIS! THERE'S NO NEED TO PAY FOR IT!

Vil: W-Wait! I make it a point to not accept these kinds of things!

Vil: Leona, you say something too.

Leona: Hey, lucky you, you're so popular.

Leona: You should get the storekeepers to show you around now. I'm gonna head back to the hotel. See ya.

Vil: LEONA!!!

Vil: That man… He ran away as soon as it got troublesome! I completely regret thinking that he was even the slightest bit reliable!

[Pomefiore Dorm – Lounge]

Vil: …was something that occurred there.

Epel: Oh wow. I'm... a little surprised that Sunset Savanna had so much make-up for sale?

Rook: Sunset Savanna's beauty brings such joy and grace to everyone, yes.

Rook: Fufu, I'm so pleased that Vil was able to see just how wondrous that country is.

Vil: Ah, that's right. Since the two of you invited yourselves to my room like this, I'll give you a special gift.

Epel: I mean, we all got a souvenir from the Elephant Legacy hot springs earlier with everyone else in the dorm, though…

Vil: This is separate from that. I'll prepare it right away, so wait right there.

Rook: Merci, Vil! I cannot wait!

Epel: What does he mean he's going to prepare it…? Is it some kind of cosmetic he's making? What should I do if he starts a lecture on how to use it…?

Vil: Sorry to keep you waiting. Here you go, a specially-made smoothie from me made from fruits bought in Sunset Savanna.

Epel: …Eh, a smoothie?

Vil: In order to cultivate beauty, it is just as important as taking the right nutrition from the inside as well. That's why I bought an abundance of fresh fruit as well.

Vil: A vitamin-rich smoothie is not only good for a beauty regimen, but also for your health.

Vil: Enjoy.

Epel: Wow! Thank you very much! [gulp, gulp] …It's so good!

Rook: There's mango and papaya in this, I see. C'est bon!

Vil: As for the Catch the Tail match, it was a shame that I wasn't able to perform as I had hoped, but…

Vil: Other than that, I was able to refresh myself and have a bit of fun. From the perspective of a beauty-focused trip, I suppose it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Requested by Anonymous.

[captain-n-crunchies]

Oranges 🍊

Yuuta x Black Reader

Selling oranges wasn't a hard job, wasn't easy either. Oranges are a fruit that you won't pick out willingly but if you're in the mood an orange would be a quick choice; it was hot out today so anyone and everyone would be outside simply to enjoy the summer's weather, it was also a good day for a tiny pop-up festival to happen! Since it's the summertime they held a market pop-up event where people selling jewelry, hair care, and the most important part of any event food was out and about selling their fruits of leisure to the public. Every year it would held by the beach with people from all over Japan meeting by the shore, I was setting up my booth ' Everythingz Orange' from oranges, to mandarins, tangerines and sometimes depending on fruits of green like limes and things were litter across these shelves and tables; I had orange accessories too to earring, bracelets, even hair pieces and body products all handmade from your truly, reader!

As I put things around everywhere I see the crowd rushing in like the waves, I see them walk over to the people closer to the entrance which isn't very smart then, to people by good scenery who gets all the pictures the get people to buy anything they want, and then you have people like me who's placed by the shore for a nice watering breeze; people who come by this part stays longer and come back for more that's why I had to start selling orange drinks, snacks, ever finger foods. I make pretty god profit off these people every year, people came by to looks and see what orange things I could have it pretty surprising to see the looks on people's faces when they see I can make orange scented paper, cloth, even ting orange themed plushies.

" Wow!, You must love oranges to make a store out of it?"

" Yep! I grew up on an orange farm so, it practically in my blood now."

To the kids I make tiny crafts like pinwheels, orange peel dolls, etc. Today though would be the best pop-up year for me though when a boy with sad eyes disrespected oranges.

" Hm, oranges?"

A boy with curious eyes looks onto my sack or mandarins with a confused look.

" Well not exactly these are mandarins' kind of like oranges but, smaller and sweeter"

He looks between me and the mandarins with a quirked brow.

" But aren't they apart of the orange family?"

" Yes, but-"

" So, they are oranges."

I know sometimes the heat messes with people's brains but this right here, this is something else! I just looked at the boy with a tilted head and explains while yes, they are in the citrus family they are not like oranges they mostly like the little sister of an orange and not it's twin; he looks at me with those big eyes and just nods. He asked how much for three and I said $5, he buys the three and walks to a group of people by the ice cream shop...it's huge panda by them also I wonder if it's a cosplay?

*10 mintues later*

The sells today been pretty good! A nice older woman bought a pair of earrings and some clementines, a girl with a funky sense of style bought an orange plushie and a bunch of jewelry, and people bought the mandarins and oranges up! The boy walked by my both a few times to see other products or to show his friends the orange themed headphone cases I made in spare time. The sun started to set, and people died out slowly and the cool air settled in, I take a break to shop around seeing shops with different selling points was always my favorite part buying beads, flower seeds, and tiny toys was something I couldn't grow out of; as I walked I saw the boy again we brushed shoulders and I sent him a apologetic smile and continued walking without looking at him back, standing in line for a funnel cake order he comes back with a sheepish look.

" Oh hello, can I help you?"

" Oh yea! um...can I ask you a question?"

" Oh sure! What's up?"

" I couldn't get this off my mind but, what the difference between a clementine and a regular orange?"

To a normal person this is a regular question but when you've had people tell you that clementines are just oranges with a different growing method the topic is very bittersweet but, I tell him all the various differences between shape, taste, texture and etc. and by the time I'm done his eyes are bright and wide; he asks me why would I know all of these things and I tell him I grew up on an citrus farm growing oranges, clementines, limes and everything citrus. We walked along the boardwalk talking about our hobbies and how we are similar, he told me he goes to Tokyo Jujutsu High school just a few blocks down, I ask about the school, and he goes into how they just learn basic high school stuff but, with all the magical wizard stuff I didn't really get.

We walked back to my booth, and I handed him an clementine.

" Here, just so you know the difference."

His warm hand grabbed the fruit, and he peeled it, I took the peeling and within in a few seconds I made him a pinwheel, his eyes shined at the flavor of the fruit and tiny toy I just smiled and told him how to make one. I pulled him a chair and for what seems like minutes but really almost an hour we talked and ate some oranges and when his friends came over, we finished a whole sack full. Yuuta and I laughed over that, and exchange numbers and he went with his friends with a wave.

After a few more people came by to check things out I started to pack up my things when a peel of an ornage fell down from the table, and it read:

' I'm clemmy glad I've met you today. xoxo Yuuta'

With a smile on my face I texted him a pic of the orange peel with the caption

' Orange you glad you've met me? 😊'

Oranges, the fruit of heart.

[streaminn]

(Decided to write some fluff after all the angst :) have these dorks using their fruit trees to their advantage! Also, this is set in the streamer Enid au.)

"Do'ya think you could... not?"

"You wanted this," Wednesday says, stepping just slightly harder on Enid's shoulders. "You need to learn to deal with the consequences of your actions, Dear."

"Willaaaaaa..."

"Got it." Wednesday calls, "you can put me down now."

Enid considers just leaning back and letting her fall, but not only is she a human, breakable and frail, she's also carrying all their gathered fruits.

If she made Wednesday spill them, she would be sleeping on the couch for a while.

She lowers herself so Wednesday can hop off, back onto the soild ground.

"Okay," the tiny woman adorable holding the basket on her arm like a purse. The basket hangs low on Enid's arm, the gap from the basket itself to the handle is mostly filled by the bulk of her muscles.

But Wednesday is tiny.

The bottom of the basket almost lines up with the goth's knees.

"That's enough apples, citrus fruits, and grapes for a while." Wednesday sets the basket down carefully, taking care to not drop the grapes.

"Why can't we just pay someone to get them for us? We have the money..." Enid doesn't whine.

Enid doesn't whine.

She didn't.

"Stop whining," Wednesday blunts, "you're the one who wanted to grow and pick our own goods. Something, something... farmcore?"

"Yeah!" Enid cheers. Sticks her arms up. "We're farmcore lesbians!"

"Why are you whining if it's a good thing, then?"

Enid's face and arms drop right as the pass the entrance of the apple tree section. Wednesday insisted that they mark everything properly, but it hardly helps when Enid chased after squirrels and domestic dogs.

"'Cause that was before I knew I'd work in the burning sun with a gothic lesbian on my shoulders!" Enid huffs. Crosses her arms. She doesn't pout. She doesn't.

Their almost at the door to their house now.

It's their home.

Wednesday smiles, if only barely.

"First off, the sun is not burning, it's autumn, and the sun has almost completely set."

Wednesday motions for Enid to open the door, her arms full of baskets.

"Second off," she steps in after the werewolf does a dorky bow, murmuring a low 'ladies first,' "I'm 5'1 and 110 pounds. I regularly see you lift 230, if not more-"

"Yeah, but 230 pounds of weights don't dig boot heels into my shoulders!"

"-and thirdly," she continues, ignoring her wife's complaints "I'm Enidsexual, not a lesbian."

"Awww, Willa!" Enid makes a show of wiping tears away.

Her finger move away from her eyes completely dry.

"You do love me!"

"Of course I love you, you wouldn't be alive if I didn't."

Enid giggles as Wednesday sets the baskets down in the kitchen. The counter has paint marks from when Enid tried and horrifically failed to make a pretty colored glass jar.

Wednesday uses the jar to store spices. It's her favorite.

She pre-heats the oven. 350.

She grabs a knife, a cutting board, sets them down. Enid's gone upstairs to tie her hair back. She washes the apples first, set on peeling them.

Just as she sets the first apple down, a bowl next to her, she hears quick footsteps desend from the stairs.

"Willa, Willa look- look!"

Wednesday huffs, sets the apple and knife, and walks into the living room.

Enid's standing in the middle of the room, grinning.

"What is it?"

Enid points at the mirror.

("So you can see yourself and how fine you are!" Enid giggled, displaying the reflective glass. The top half of the frame is hot pink, the bottom jet black.

Wednesday sometimes uses it to makes sure she's presentable before she leaves.

She uses it mostly to steal looks at Enid before the werewolf notices.

She usually gets caught.)

"It's a mirror."

"I- yeah!" Enid's grin turns teasing, "that is a mirror." She babytalks. "Good job, Wendy!"

"Call me "Wendy" again, and you'll be turned into a square burger patty."

Wednesday crosses her arms but still gets next to Enid, looking in the mirror.

"Look." They stand side by side.

Enid's a good head and then some taller than Wednesday. It used to embarrass her, back in Nevermore. Having to ask the roommate she had an infatuation with to get a book from the too-high shelf was a different level of embarrassment.

"Me," Enid points at herself in the mirror. Her hair is tied back, showing off her scars. Bright eyes.

Wednesday would die for her.

Enid's finger moves to point at Wednesday's reflection.

"And the bad bitch I pulled by being silly and goofy and whimsical."

She supposes Enid is willing to die because of her, saying imbecilic things like that.

"I want a divorce." Wednesday walks back into the kitchen, arms still crossed.

"No, you- no you don't!" Enid jogs after her, she gets into the kitchen right as Wednesday grabs her knife and apple again.

"You could never find someone with this much whimsy! Or a face this cute!"

"Hmm. Are you implying I only married you for your face, Sinclair?"

"Woah," Enid puts her hands put like theres a gun pointed at her. "Bringing out the old last names? Cold-hearted, Addams!"

"You knew you were marrying a cold-blooded woman, Honey. Now, quit messing around and help get the fruit prepped."

"This environment doesn't have enough enrichment for me," Enid pouts, grabbing another cutting board and knife.

"How am I supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions?"

"Quiet."

They sit in a comfortable silence. Enid washes and peels the apples, hands them to Wednesday, Wednesday cuts them into slice, then sits them in a pan.

She adds water, sugar, cinnamon. She sets it to medium and stirs.

She stirs random patterns.

A figure-8.

A circle.

An x.

A W.

A plus.

An E.

"Here," there's a hand in her peripheral-vision. "Let me. I like stirring things." Enid smiles softly, takes the wooded spoon from her hands.

"And what do you suggest I do? Twiddle my thumbs?"

"Hmmm," Enid stares into the mixture in the pan. She stirs. "You could sit on the chair and look pretty. Looking at your lovely face would be much better than looking at this."

"Are you saying my creations aren't gorgeous enough to blind you?"

"Look," Enid sets ths spoon aside and grabs a lid. She sets it on the pan, "all I'm saying is- you're not the only who married purely for looks."

"Huh."

They have a staring contest. Enid's never been good at holding her eyes open.

She loses.

"You can start working on the pie dough? I'll go start the fireplace."

Wednesday nods once, grabs what she needs from the closet, and starts on the dough.

This is her life. She lives with her wife, in their house, on their land.

She works on the dough, kneading it while she hears Enid grab logs from the basket they sit in.

Despite their fake bicker and faker upset, she pokes her head past the wall of the kitchen to sneak a peek at Enid.

Her heart catches in her throat when, not only is Enid staring right at her, but Enid is flexing her arms.

"Like what you see?" She teases

"Idiot," she turns back to the dough, hiding her blush. "You are so dumb."

"And yet you love me!" Enid calls back. She can hear Enid place a log into the fireplace. Another. Then another. A fourth. One more log, than she hears Enid grab the lighter.

She hears Enid swear when it doesn't start.

"Willlaaaaaa..."

"Bring it here."

Enid enters the kitchen blushing, and hands Wednesday the lighter with a pathetically pitiful downcast face.

Wednesday lights it on her first try.

"'S'not fair." She hands Enid the lit lighter.

She sets the most of the dough in the pie tin, grabs the filling, and pours most in. She pours the rest in jar, seals it and puts it in the refrigerator.

"I got the fire goin'!"

"Good." Wednesday sets the rest of the dough over the top, cuts line into it for ventilation, than sets it carefully into the hot oven. "Mind getting hot water for tea and coffee ready?"

"Sure!" Enid prances into the kitchen, grabs a kettle and fills it with water.

She sets it on the stove and starts it.

Wednesday washes her hands and nails free of bits of dough and flour and apple and orange and lemon peels.

She's cooking. In their home.

She turns and sees her wife's back to her. She loves this woman.

"Hey, can we watch that new K-drama episode? Yoko got to watch it earlier and if she spoils it I'll-" Enid turns her entire body to face Wednesday and when she does, Wednesday bruies her face in Enid's chest. Hugs her.

"Oh!"

Enid stays stiff for a moment, schocked, and carefully, slowly wraps her arms around the smaller.

"I love the affection," Enid starts, "but you don't usually start the lovin'. Somethin' wrong?"

"I love you. It just... smacked me. How much love I hold in my heart for you."

Enid smiles softly and warmly, Wednesday wonders if she somehow stole the essence of the fire burning in their home and stuck it in her face.

Enid kisses the top of her head.

"Love you too, babycakes."

They sit for a moment. Holding each other.

"The water's ready."

"Good." Wednesday pulls from the hug and turns the stone off. "Get our mugs?"

"'Course, Wednesday."

Enid grabs their mugs from the high shelf, she places them down gingerly.

"I'll be right back."

"Alright."

Wednesday leaves the kitchen and climbs the stairs, entering their shared bedroom.

She goes to the bottom shelf of her dresser (they needed separate ones, she loves Enid but if she has to see a bright yellow dress that says house on it next to her black dress-shirts she'll kill someone.) and grabs the fabrics she came for. She sticks them in her hoodie pockets.

When she gets back down stairs, Enid's all wrapped in a big blanket, her mug in her hands, Wednesday's on the ground next to her. It's big enough to cover their couch 3 timss over.

They use it strictly for cuddles.

Enid's stupid mug that Wednesday got her that she swears is the only one she'll use till she's dead has a chip in the handle. She dropped it and it broke and Ajax, bless him, offered to fix it.

There never found the missing piece.

Wednesday got her mug from Enid. A soild black mug that fits just right in her hands. It has a color changing sun on both sides. It's heat activated.

There's a black coffee in her mug, and Enid's has her apple-citrus tea.

"I'm going to check on the pie."

"Okay."

It's done when Wednesday opens the door. She pulls it out, and sets it to cool.

"It's done, Darling."

"Yay!"

Wednesday walks into the living room, and sits on the floor, grabs her mug, and cocoons herself. She presses into her human-heater.

She's warm.

"Why'd you go upstairs a minute ago?"

"Oh." She swallows. "These."

She reaches into her hoodie pockets and pulls out the clothing.

Enid gasps and puts her hands over her mouth.

"Our snoods!" She grabs hers carefully and puts it on swiftly. "I thought we lost these."

"I hid them. I meant to throw them away but they mean a lot to you and-"

"So they mean just as much to you?" Enid grins at her.

Clever little shit.

"... Yes. I wanted to throw them but i thought about how that would make you feel. I couldn't show you that I-" she fakes a shudder "-love you. If someone saw me wearing this I'd think I mellowed out."

"You have mellowed out." Enid takes her hands tenderly. "For me."

Wednesday blushes and stares intensely at her tea.

"I have a reputation."

Enid grins. Sharp toothed.

"I think the pies cooled."

"Get it yourself, traitor."

"Fine, fine. Guess you'll just be cold and alone in these blankets then."

"Guess I will."

Enid gets two plates down from the cupboard. A knife from the drawer. She pushes it closed with a hip press. She cuts two slices, one for herself and one for Wednesday.

Wednesday's piece totally isn't ever so slightly smaller. Nuh-uh.

She returns to the living room carrying their food.

"Ta-da!"

It's only once they're both situated on the floor, warmed from each other and the fireplace and the blanket does Wednesday speak.

"Enid?

"Yeah?"

"Where are the forks."

Enid looks at her plate. Then at Wednesday's.

"Fuck."

"I'll get them."

"Noooooo," Enid wraps her arm around her love, "I'm cozy!"

"I'm not dealing with sticky fingers," the shorter speaks. "A few seconds without me or no pie?"

"..."

"..."

"Be quick."

She pats her wife's shoulder mockingly. "That's what I thought."

.

.

.

It's only once the moon just barely rises do they call it a night.

The pie has been eaten, they enjoyed their drinks, they watched Enid's K-drama so Yoko couldn't spoil it.

They're in bed.

Wednesday let her hair down. Enid plays with it, braiding and unbraiding it endlessly.

"Enid?"

"Yes my sweet, darling Willa?"

"I... I love you. I love you and I fear sometimes I don't say it enough."

Enid grabs her by the shoulder and flips her over. It's fast and makes her neck creak uncomfortably.

"You say it plenty. You could say it once a month and it'd be enough. You sh- you love through actions more than words." Enid laughs softly. "Ironic for such a writer."

"I like saying it more than once a month."

"I like hearing it more than once a month."

A kiss.

"And love you just as much, my Raven."

"Goodnight, Enid."

"Goodnight, Willa."

THE THINGS WENCLAIR DOES TO ME MAN, OMLLLL. ITS SO GOOD WRITER ANON, TY AGAINNNN

im currently in a dnd session so im kinda too busy to write BUT, have this lil snippet

--

"ya'know what i realized, willa?" Enid murmurs to the dark.

Wednesday doesn't shift, but she keeps talking anyway.

"I think i'm the villager and you're the farmer in stardew valley."

Finally, that got a reaction.

"what?" Enid gives herself a mental pat to the back. Win to her for being able to make her one and lovely Wednesday sound shocked. Heh, adorable.

"it makes sense!" she continues. "you come into the farm, you give me gifts and we're married. Sounds like a regular run, no?"

Wednesday shifts, turning to Enid with a confused and lightly said What.

"what are you talking about?" she wonders and Enid gives a light kiss to her wife's forehead before snuggling under the sheets and closing her eyes.

"Enid?" wednesday asks.

"enid??"