#to make it easier to eat When We Want/Need To instead of at set times

[nexus-nebulae]

the starving street cat headmate has discovered the smoked salmon we bought

[gatorlovebot]

inspired by @ghouljams ghost distribution system posts <3

thinking about neighbor simon who watches you move in to the little 1 bedroom rental property next to his own. it takes it a few days for it to sink in that it’s just you living in the home. seemingly no partner, no roommates, no family. it makes his skin itch and his fingers twitch.

he doesn’t know why he introduces himself to you, but when he walks out his front door with riley, leash in hand, his feet start moving himself closer to your porch. you're struggling to hang a potted plant on a hook and even though he desperately wants to take it from you and hang it himself, end your struggle, he stays firmly planted right in front of your porch steps.

the look of triumph on your face sets something off in his stomach before you finally notice him. he can tell you're taken aback by his presence on your stoop and he's not surprised. but your eyes cut down to riley whose standing at attention by his side and your eyes soften and a smile threatens to split your lips because of his boy.

"oh, hi," you greet him, still kind to him regardless of his intrusion.

"hi," his voice is gruff, not the kindest it's ever been. he doesn't want to give away too much, how he felt compelled to come to you. "you just move in?"

he watches as your eyes slip down to riley again, probably easier to look at the grinning dog by his feet than him. "yeah, just last week." you confirm.

"just you in there?" he's prying and he knows it, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to.

you look back up at him and he allows himself to look at the column of your throat. "yeah, just me." you sound weary, good, he thinks. "is it just you and the dog, then?"

tit for tat. "ya', just me and riley."

your face softens and a smile graces your lips as you look back down at riley. "riley?" your voice is soft, like you're talking to something precious and small, it makes riley's ears perk up. "good name for a good boy."

simon huffs a breath, a tiny little chuckle of a thing. he can only imagine how ths interaction would go if he hadn't had riley with him. he would have hoped you wouldn't have been that forthcoming with a complete stranger at your doorstep. his mind is screaming at him to leave, to get off your stoop and to leave your life as quickly as he inserted himself into it. but your kindness eats away at him, settling low in his gut. he's always had an easier time listening to his body than his head.

he watches as you reach your hand out for riley to sniff, it’s not often that him and riley get approached by strangers so riley revels in the attention, nosing at your hand for pets and scratches. “i’ve been thinking of getting a dog, maybe riley can have a friend in the neighborhood.”

of course you’re thinking of getting a dog, a young thing like you on your own for the first time, your first taste of freedom getting something of your own. he shouldn't make assumptions, but he does. you had only been in your own place for a week and you're already thinking of getting something to take care of. maybe he'll have to get a tight leash to keep you on.

"haven't been on your own for very long," he doesn't phrase it as a question, instead it comes out as a statement, a fact, because it is. somehow he just knows this is your first chance at independence.

"yeah, you're right," you agree, still rubbing riley's ears but your eyes look dejected.

he can't bare to look at your far away eyes and down turned lops any longer, tugging riley closer to himself clearing his throat. "well, we should get going." he watches you give one last per to riley, cooing at the dog with a little wave. he feels something in him shift.

-

the next day when he leaves his house with riley his feet take him back up your walk and onto your porch. you aren't out today, so simon needs to knock on your door. he doesn't expect you to answer after he raps his knuckles against the wood grain, but out the corner of his eye he sees you peek out the front window to look out your porch. good, can't have you opening up the door to strangers.

you look surprised to see him, but your eyes brighten when you see riley. "oh, hi guys," you greet the both of them, your voice sweet and polite. simon takes in your appearance, wrapped up in soft, comfy clothes. he knows he should feel a bit of remorse at interrupting your time, but he doesn't, too preoccupied with the way you crouch down to stoke over riley's ears.

"thought you may want to join us," he says in lieu of a greeting. you look up at him with a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed. all he does is tug loosely on riley's leash as explanation.

"oh," you put the pieces together, smart girl. "really?," you question, "i don't want to bother you-"

"if i didn't want you to join us, i wouldn't have come over." he contends, shutting his mouth before begging words are able to slip past his lips.

your expression smooths out despite his gruff words and you give riley a meaningful look before asking him, "can you give me a minute to put my shoes on?"

[bettyfrommars]

A little something inspired by this edit by @somnambulic-thing of what I imagine as a version of a mechanic!Eddie, but he's also biker!Eddie to me, or anything you want.

mechanic!Eddie x Reader

18+Only, secret work crush, gender neutral reader, just some yearning fluff with mention of weed and alcohol, bit of slut shaming, some sage advice from Wayne.

word count: 1.7k

Eddie had been staring at the door to the office and zoning out for a while when you opened it to step into the bay, and his unblinking gaze accidentally lingered at your midsection.

“What’s wrong?” You glanced down at your outfit, thinking maybe your zipper was open or something worse. There were three other mechanics besides Eddie there that day, each of them knee deep in the hustle and bustle of the busy season.  A boombox on one of the tall, red cubbies blasted hard rock while an electric drill buzzed.  

His attention snapped back to the bolt he was crouched down to tighten on the rim of a Ford Bronco.  

“Nothing,” he grunted, cranking the ratchet so that the muscles on his tattooed bicep bulged. He had on his signature summer uniform of black coveralls with the sleeves ripped off.  His hair was tied back in a pony with a navy-blue bandana on his head, making it easier to slip his welding helmet on and off.  “I didn’t know you were working today.”

Now, that was a big fat lie.  Spotting your car in the parking lot when he came in every morning was one of those things that set his day right.  You’d taken Thursday off the week before, and he’d moped around in a bad mood for the entire shift.  

Almost four months you’d been working in the office, and he still hadn’t summoned the nerve to ask you out.  Instead, he drank too much after a show at the Hideout one night and ended up letting some random chick crawl all over him.  The next day, the guys he worked with would make it sound more serious than it actually was.

“Soooo Munson, I heard you got lucky with Deep Throat Dana last night. They say she can suck an orange out of a tailpipe!” 

And then the entire shop broke out into wheezing laughter like a bunch of hyenas, as if something funny was said.

It made him cringe, and he cast a side glance to see if you were within earshot.  “Nothing happened with that girl,” he wanted to say to you.  “We kissed, but I just couldn’t…ya know?”

But also, why did he feel the need to explain himself to you? It was as if he was being faithful to a dream.  You’d never give him the time of day out in the real world.  Sure, you knew just how he liked his coffee, and you asked him questions about DnD and his band as if you were interested.  But, you were just being nice—he could tell.  At first he thought he was special, but quickly realized that you treated everyone the same.  You were, in fact, a thoughtful, likable person.  Surely your only interest in him was as co-workers, nothing more.  

Also, he could hear Wayne’s voice in his head: “Don’t shit where you eat, son.” 

It was his uncle's long-standing advice to never get involved with a coworker, and Eddie just happened to agree.  If he was ever lucky enough to take you on a few dates and then you dumped him or broke his heart, he wasn’t sure he could work at the garage anymore.  On the bright side, he also had a CDL to operate heavy equipment, so maybe that would be his cue to become a long-haul trucker.  

Deep breath Munson, you’re getting way ahead of yourself.

You hesitated in the doorway for a beat with Mrs. Chadwick’s paperwork for the Oldsmobile sedan in your hand, wanting to ask Eddie how his day was going.  But then he sank down onto the creeper and rolled under the vehicle as if to avoid you in a hurry.  

You really didn’t know what to make of him. 

One second, you’d be certain he was flirting, but then later that day, he’d huff out the door without even so much as a wave. He’d tease you about things, like your collection of random motel pens or the music you liked, and then you’d give the energy right back and wait for that gremlin smile to spread across his face. 

The other day, he’d left your favorite candy bar on the desk for you to find.  You knew it was him because he was the only one in Hawkins you’d told.  How the topic of sweets came up, you weren’t sure, but you’d never forget the curious narrowing of his eyes when he asked which one you liked best.

You had this strange feeling that he was secretly studying you.

The other night you were sitting across from your friend Tina, having burgers and beers at The Hideaway, when Eddie just happened to breeze in.

Your heart stuttered, whatever you’d been saying dying on your lips, completely losing your train of thought. The vinyl in the booth squeaked as you craned your neck to watch him. That was the first time you’d ever seen him in street clothes without coveralls on, and it was raining, so his long hair was soaked.  He greeted the woman at the cash register, and you were too far away to hear, but apparently he was there to pay and pick up his takeout order in a big brown sack with greasy handprints on it.  You thought about waving him down to ask if he wanted to join the two of you, but he did his business in a hurry and didn’t seem to want to be noticed.

“What’s going on?” Tina asked, gaze darting from you to the Dio patch on Eddie’s back as he exited the building.  She munched a french fry before wiping ketchup off her lip.  “Did something happen between you and Eddie?”

You snapped a look at her.  “You know him?”

“Well, not intimately,” she ate another fry.  “But I went to school with him, and bought weed from him a few times.”

“He sells weed?” You cocked an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised.

“It’s been like, a while, but maybe he still does.  How do you know him?”

“We work together,” you brought the half-eaten burger up for a bite and paused there.  “I think he hates me.”

“I highly doubt that.” And then she stared pointedly at you when she said, “he’s cute,” with a knowing smirk. 

“Ha,” you adjusted the napkin on your lap. “Well, as you know, I plan to stay single for the rest of my life.”

“Sure, sure.”

When it got closer to 6 that day, you scrambled to get off the phone with a customer, worried Eddie might slip out again and you wouldn’t see him for the entire weekend. After hiding in the supply closet for a full minute to avoid Phil—one of the other mechanics who liked to talk your ear off—you finally made it to the break room, panting as if you’d just run a marathon.

Eddie was there, bent over to snatch a Pepsi out of the vending machine.  Freezing in place, you suddenly forgot how to form words.

Eddie felt like an idiot, like for sure you’d caught on to the fact that he’d been finding shit to do for the past half hour just so he could be there to have some private time with you.  He didn’t like the idea of you closing up the shop by yourself, especially now that it was getting darker sooner. 

And then fucking Phil wouldn’t leave. His wife had relatives visiting, and he was shuffling around like a sad puppy trying to avoid going home.  Eddie had to pretend he needed to take a shit just to get rid of him, and was halfway surprised the dude didn’t follow him into the bathroom.

He usually brought his own lunch, but the snack and soda machines were always tempting.  He knew how to open the damn things up and thought about doing some last minute grocery shopping to make up for his crappy wage.  

You cleared your throat.  “So, what are you up to this weekend?  Any fun plans?”

Eddie pulled his shoulders back and spun around at the sound of your voice, fisting the can in one hand and running the other through his hair.  He’d been growing his bangs out, and they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears.  The length was so fucking annoying at times that he’d often considered chopping them to nubs.    

You were smiling at him, eyes bright and sincere, and it made him feel all fuzzy inside like his brain was made of cotton candy.

“My day was good. You?” That was what came out of his mouth, and then he let out a silent, internal scream that made his ears ring. 

But he recovered quickly. “I mean, I don’t have any plans.  I don’t usually have…I mean, my buddy Jeff and I might go see a movie, but not like major plans.”  He didn’t want to tell you he was taking a trip out to Rick’s on Sunday to beef up his supply for weekly customers.  He sure as hell couldn’t restore the van on the chump change he made at the garage. 

You stared at him intently, softening when you realized he was nervous.  

How could that be?  Did you make him nervous?

You pulled a folded piece of paper out of your back pocket and held it up.  “I found this at the laundromat.  It says your band is playing at The Hideout on Tuesday.  Is that still happening?”

Pinched between your thumb and forefinger was one of the handmade fliers Gareth had helped him make.  

“Well we…yes-–” he cracked open the lid of the soda and it fizzed everywhere, dripping down his arm and onto the linoleum floor. “Shit, I’ll clean that up, don’t worry.”

He didn’t want you to get stuck having to get the mop out to clean again, so he put the leaking can down on the lunch table and went over to grab something to wipe it up.  

He busied himself with sopping up the mess, albeit poorly, while you inched closer.

“I think I might stop by and check you guys out,” you saw that his face was red when he stood, chocolate orbs lit up in anticipation.  “Maybe we could have a beer or something after?”

His cotton candy brain tried to filter his next thought, but it was too late.  “What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight?” You blinked a few times.  “Is your band playing somewhere tonight too?”

“No, but I—” the tip of his tongue slipped side to side between his lips.  “If you’re not busy tonight maybe we could go somewhere to eat or drink or hang out or something.”

“Or something,” a grin quivered in the corner of your mouth. 

And then the two of you were just standing there, close enough for your breathing to fall into sync. Gathering up a nice helping of nerve, you reached an arm out and ran the back of your knuckles down the front of his shirt.

Eddie was vibrating.

Don’t shit where you eat, son.

No disrespect Uncle, but fuck the job.

“Anything," he said softly, hope blossoming in his chest like those wildly palpitating hearts in cartoons.  “Anything you want.”

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your hormones are raging to the point of distraction, but Bradley channels that energy toward a purpose: christening the new Bronco. When the two of you attend Mickey's birthday kegger, Bradley realizes everything would be easier if his friends knew you were pregnant. Hopefully the first visit with your new doctor will set your minds at ease instead of making you more anxious.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy, angst, fluff

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You woke up to your alarm for work on Friday morning, groggy and nauseous with a growling stomach. "Roo?" you asked, popping up in bed when you realized he wasn't there. The house was silent. His spot in the bed was cold. You groaned and rolled over to grab your glasses. You needed to eat something immediately or the vomiting was going to start.

Still wearing your underwear and shirt from last night, you shuffled to the kitchen and downed a full glass of water and the plate of peanut butter crackers Bradley left out for you. "Roo?" you asked between bites. You opened the sliding glass door, but he wasn't in the backyard. When you turned toward the front door to see if the Bronco was here, something caught your eye through the front window. "What the hell?"

You grabbed the throw blanket from the couch and wrapped it around yourself as you shoved the last cracker into your mouth. When you opened the front door, you saw your husband and your dog in the driveway. Bradley had moved the Bronco to the street, and he was wearing gym clothes and hosing down the cement slab. 

"What is going on?" you called out, squinting against the early morning sunlight as he waved to you. "What are you doing?"

Bradley was smiling brightly as he dropped the hose next to the industrial sized broom and started running toward you. "You have to hear it, Sweetheart." He was fumbling with his phone. "The most beautiful words." He thrust the phone in front of you as a voicemail message started to play.

"Hi, Bradley, this is Terry from the Ford dealership. I'm just calling to let you know your new Bronco is here."

You groaned as he bounced on the balls of his feet, and Tramp wandered past your legs and back inside. "I still don't understand why you have the hose and broom out...? Are you cleaning the driveway? For the new Bronco?"

"Yes," he replied as if he was talking to a very small child. "I wouldn't want to bring it home to a mess. I want it to feel welcome."

You closed your eyes as he put his phone away and let his palm come to rest against your belly. "It's barely even light out, and you're cleaning the driveway for our new car to feel welcome."

"It's not just a car, Baby Girl. It's a Bronco. And I was too excited to sleep."

You opened your eyes and kissed him before you shook your head. "I can't imagine how you'll be when we start shopping for baby stuff."

His brown eyes lit up as he rubbed your belly. "As soon as you give me the green light, I'm ready to go. I can't wait to decorate the nursery. And I really think we should talk about getting a contractor to work on the attic."

You held up one of your hands, trying to keep the blanket wrapped around you. "Can we just do one thing at a time, Roo? When are we picking up the Bronco?"

He kissed your cheek and moaned. "I knew you were as excited as I am. We can go right from work later today."

"Okay," you agreed with a shrug before shuffling back inside and leaving him to finish cleaning the driveway.

-------------------------

It was Friday, Bradley's wife was pregnant, he was about to pick up his new Bronco, and everything was perfect. A little too perfect. He tapped on your office door as soon as he got out of his afternoon lecture, and when you opened it, you looked upset.

"What's wrong?" he asked, ducking inisde with you and closing the door. He cupped your face in his hands and stroked your cheek. "What is it, Sweetheart?"

You let out a needy moan and then licked your lips. "I am so fucking horny."

Well. At least that was better than there being something wrong that he couldn't take care of. You turned your head slightly and took his thumb between your lips, and Bradley grunted. "Holy shit. You're not kidding." He was met with another soft moan and your fingers on the fly of his khakis while you sucked. He had to grab you to make you stop before you had your hand down his pants. "Okay," he whispered. "Here's what we're about to do, alright?"

You nodded, looking up at him like you trusted him completely as he removed his thumb. "Tell me."

"If you're ready to leave, we'll stop and pick up Bronco number two and drive them both home, and then I'll do whatever you need, okay?"

You sucked in a deep breath, and your voice shook. "Okay."

Bradley carried your work bag for you, and when it was just the two of you in the elevator, he wasn't sure how you managed to make it through the day. You were a mess. You had him pinned to the wall, one hand at the back of his neck, the other resting on his abs, and you were kissing him like you would at home in bed. 

He wanted this. Badly. Your tongue stroked against his as you traced his scars with your fingertips. Every little gasp and sound you made went right for his cock. "I need it so bad," you whispered, pressing your lips to his mustache. "God, Roo."

"Fuck," he groaned as the elevator started to slow. "I'd take you right here if I could."

You were whimpering as the doors slid open revealing Maverick. Bradley desperately tried to move your hands to more suitable places on his body, but you just pressed your cheek to his chest and smiled as you said, "Hey, Captain Mitchell."

He smirked and replied, "Lieutenant Commanders."

"Sir?" Bradley croaked, taking both of your hands in his and pulling you out of the elevator. 

Maverick shook his head, and Bradley expected that he would get a text this weekend, but he'd deal with that later. Hand in hand, you and he ran toward the Bronco, and he quickly got you inside and buckled your seatbelt. But you lured him in for more kisses with your fingers in his hair. 

"You taste so good," you whined, licking his lips and tongue. 

"Shit." He was hard now, and he was going to have to try to get you to behave on the short drive to the dealership. Bradley wrenched himself away from you and tucked your hands to your sides. "I love this, I really do, but you need to try to behave for like thirty more minutes."

He ran around to his door, wrenched it open, and soon he was pulling out of the parking garage. You had your head tipped back and your eyes closed as you whispered, "I can't explain it, Bradley, but all I can think about right now is your cock. Just huge and delicious. Fucking me and making me scream."

"Jesus, Baby Girl," he gasped, nearly driving off the road. 

You turned toward him, eyes wide now. "And I swear to god, you have never looked hotter than you do right now. I want to put my mouth on you."

This was doing nothing for his raging erection as he adjusted himself at a red light. When he saw your hands coming his way, he grabbed them and said, "Absolutely not. Sit on them." You whimpered, but you did as you were told and tucked your hands beneath your thighs. "Now listen closely, Sweetheart." The light turned green and he gunned the accelerator. "I love this enthusiasm. So I'll tell you what we're gonna do. When we get home, we're breaking in the new Bronco."

"Yes," you gasped, biting your lip and nodding. "Fuck me in it."

"I sure will," he rasped, unsure how he was going to manage your hormones for the next eight months. He really hoped this elevated sex drive meant everything was healthy for you and the baby. 

As he pulled into the Ford dealership, the bright cherry red Bronco was parked at the front of the building, and he sighed when he saw it. "There she is. Isn't she gorgeous?"

You unbuckled as soon as he parked. "It'll look even better when I've got my pants pulled down inside of it."

"Damn straight," he growled, climbing out his door and adjusting his pants the best he could. You came running to his side, and the two of you walked into the building, trying your very best to act normal. Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple as you took some deep breaths. "You're doing great, Sweetheart," he muttered as he flagged down Terry who left him the voicemail message.

"You're back for the red Bronco!" he said as he headed over. "Why don't you step into my office so we can sign the final paperwork and get the keys."

Bradley felt you link your fingers with his, and the two of you sat side by side while Terry printed out some pages and rambled on about the extended warranty. You kept glancing at Bradley out of the corner of your eye and squirming in your seat. And if you thought he looked hotter now than he ever had before, then the feeling was completely mutual. You looked so damn good, even struggling through your morning sickness, that he wanted to get his hands all over your body. 

When your teeth sank down into your lip as you looked at him, he thought about sweeping everything off Terry's desk, telling him to get the fuck out of his own office, and nailing you right here. God, you'd make the prettiest sounds, too.

"How does that sound?" Terry asked, looking from you and then back to Bradley.

"I'm sorry, what?" Bradley replied, trying his best to get his libido under control. "I missed what you said."

Terry smiled serenely like he didn't know he was practically in the middle of a porno right now. "Would you like me to show you all the controls and interior features? Go over how everything works before you drive off with it?"

"Nope. I think we'll be fine figuring it out on our own," he replied immediately as he grabbed the proffered pen from the other man. He scribbled his signature on the bottom of the paperwork and then passed it to you to do the same. "You ready to get busy, Baby Girl?" he asked as he stood. 

"God yes," you moaned as he took the two sets of keys from a rather stunned looking Terry. "Let's go."

The two of you ran back out to the Broncos, and Bradley groaned. "Oh, hell yes. A hot wife, a baby and two Broncos. Someone pinch me."

"Just get in," you commanded, shoving him toward the red one. "You can deal with not knowing the controls, and I'll meet you at home." 

Bradley let you take the keys out of his pocket before he climbed inside the new one. He took a second to inhale that fresh, new car scent. He ran his fingers over the leather steering wheel. Then he kissed the keys and cranked the engine, barely taking the time to adjust the mirrors before pulling out onto the main road behind you. 

It took eight and a half minutes to get home, and the sun was dipping lower in the sky, but it was by no means dark outside when Bradley pulled in the driveway next to you. Your movements were sure and intentional as you unbuckled your khaki belt while you walked around the blue Bronco and went straight for the back door of the red one. 

"Are you coming?" you asked with desperation as you climbed in the back and looked at him still sitting in the driver's seat. You were on your knees on the seat, pulling your uniform pants and cute underwear down your thighs. "Please?"

"Holy fucking shit." On all fours. On the backseat. Back door open. You were just asking for the fuck of a lifetime, and he was going to give it to you.

"Bradley?"

He killed the engine and left the keys on the dash as he climbed into the backseat behind you. It was roomier than your shitty Honda, but he still had to work with what he had. "I got you, Sweetheart," he promised as you folded your arms and let your head rest on the seat with your gorgeous ass up in the air. He tasted you there, running his lips and mustache down through your soaking wet pussy while he undid his own belt.

You sighed in relief as you pressed slowly back for more pressure, and as soon as he had his hard cock hanging out the front of his pants, Bradley took your hips in his hands. You tasted and smelled delicious and familiar as he licked and kissed you everywhere as his hands slowly crept around to your belly. His fingers stroked you softly where he knew your tattoo was, and he licked you from hole to hole. 

"You're really worked up," he murmured as he kissed along your ass cheek and swiped his fingers through your pussy.

"I told you, Daddy!" you moaned, and he coated his cock up with your wetness and his precum. Then he got himself in position behind you, glancing around to see if any of the neighbors were out and about. But it didn't matter. You were already too far gone. He reached behind himself and closed the door a few more inches before it hit his boot, and then he covered your body with his own.

As he slid his cock slowly inside your pussy, he could already feel you clenching around him. When he bottomed out, you were whimpering pathetically. "Roo."

"Shh. I know, Baby Girl. I'll take care of it."

You nodded beneath him, glancing back as he kissed your perfect cheek. "I love you."

Bradley's heart melted even as he started to slowly thrust. He kissed your shoulder through your uniform shirt and wrapped one big hand around your belly. "I love both of you," he promised. Then he patted the seat right next to your folded arms. "In a few more months, there's gonna be a car seat right here. And I can't fucking wait. I can't wait to meet our baby."

"Daddy," you whined, and he planted his palm on the upholstery and held your body as he started to fuck you harder. He knew you wouldn't feel better until you could barely walk, and right now that's what he wanted, too. He thrusted harder as the sounds got more obscene, knowing anyone could see what was happening right now if they looked this way. You turned back with an absolutely delighted expression on your face and whispered, "Watch where you're bracing your foot."

Then he really let you have it, spanking your pussy lightly with his damp fingers and making you squeal while you clenched around him. He turned your head with his other hand so that your mouth was pressed to your forearm, hoping to muffle some of the noise before returning his palm to the upholstery. Oh, you were close now, and so was he, but he'd spend all night out here fucking you with this steady rhythm until you got what you needed from him. Because you always gave him everything.

As he stroked your clit with his middle finger, you whined his name, and your legs started to shake. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come on," he coaxed, pushing himself deep and staying still while you squeezed his length and shook beneath him.

A pitiful cry of Daddy was all he heard as you started milking him for everything he was worth. He rolled his hips until he was done, and then he gently wrapped his hand around your neck and guided you so your back was against his chest. He kissed your ear, letting you hear how he was panting to catch his breath while he said, "Baby number two gets made in a Bronco."

---------------------------

Well. The red Bronco now smelled like new car and filthy sex at the same time. And you had Bradley's cum all over your uniform pants. And your nipples hurt from rubbing against the backseat. But you felt incredible as Bradley closed up the doors, locked it and patted the hood before leading you to the house with his arm around your waist.

"All better?" he asked, slipping the key into the lock as you rubbed your face against his bicep. 

"So much better," you replied as Tramp greeted both of you. "In fact, I think I'm going to go relax in the bathtub."

When you tried to walk away from him, Bradley grabbed your hand. "Whoa. Not so fast." He yanked you gently back into his arms. "First of all, now that the new Bronco has been appropriately christened, you get to take a set of the keys." He dropped them into your hand as he kissed your forehead. "And second, I read about taking baths during pregnancy, and you can't have the water as hot as you're used to."

You gaped up at him. "You read about it?"

He nodded as his cheeks started to turn pink. "Yeah. Just online. You know, just because you like taking baths. And sometimes we take them together.  And I know I told you I wasn't going to start shopping too much yet, but I did order a tub thermometer on Monday. And it arrived yesterday. And I hope you don't think I'm crazy right now."

You squeezed him tighter as you whispered, "I don't think you're crazy. I think you're sweet and smart. You always seem to think of things that I don't. And on that note, would you like to get the thermometer and meet me in the bathroom? Naked?"

He patted you on the butt and whispered, "I'll feed Tramp and meet you in there."

You stripped out of your uniform and turned on the water, but you didn't crank it as hot as you normally would. You dipped your toes in and swirled them around as you thought back to last weekend when you sat in the empty tub and counted for three minutes until your pregnancy test was ready. It was fascinating to you, growing something inside you that made you so reactive to everything. Every time you thought about your upcoming appointment, you got antsy, hoping they would tell you everything looked as it should. 

Bradley kissed your shoulder as his body met yours. "I brought the goods," he whispered as he dropped the floating thermometer into the tub and held up a sleeve of crackers and a bottle of cold water.

You moaned and reached for the food, knowing you should eat something now while you still felt okay. "You're the best husband in the world."

As you shoved some crackers into your mouth, Bradley knelt and kissed your belly. "Hi," he whispered, making a huge smile break out on your face. "It's me again. Just checking in." He kissed your belly button and looked up at you as he said, "Mommy and I are hoping to see you next week with an ultrasound." He paused and pressed one more lazy kiss a little closer to your tattoo as he stared. "Your tits look fucking incredible, Sweetheart."

"Do they?" you asked, looking down at yourself. "They're so sore." 

Bradley grunted and shut off the water after he checked the thermometer. "So what you're saying is I can look, but I can't touch? Because that's just mean." He climbed into the tub and helped you in while you laughed. 

"It didn't hurt too much the other day when you were very, very gentle," you whispered as you straddled his lap facing him. These slightly cooler baths would take some getting used to, but it wasn't too terrible. 

"Got it." You ate a few more crackers as he intently focused on your half submerged breasts like they were about to cure cancer. His thumbs were soft and when his lips met your nipples, you arched your back until you were getting just the perfect amount of pressure. 

You let him kiss and nuzzle around for a few minutes while you played with his hair. When his mustache started to feel a little too rough, you yanked him back, and he stopped. "You're bristly."

He raised one eyebrow. "Do you want me to shave?"

"No!" you gasped running your fingers down his cheek to stroke his facial hair.

"I will if you want me to," he whispered, kissing your palm and pulling you a little closer. You curled up against his chest and hugged him.

"I don't want you to shave, Roo. You're so handsome this way." You kissed his sparse chest hair. "Thanks for getting the bath thermometer and making sure I got a new car. And thanks for fucking me all the time and taking care of everything."

He chuckled. "How can you go from feral and horny to sweet and snuggly so quickly?"

"It's the hormones," you replied with a yawn. "And as soon as I get out of the tub, I'm probably going to fall asleep. So if there's anything else we need to talk about, we have to do it now."

"Just Mickey's birthday party tomorrow," Bradley reminded you, and you groaned. 

"I forgot all about that. I'll have to bring crackers and hope I don't hurl everywhere. And how the hell am I supposed to avoid drinking at a kegger?"

"I have a few ideas."

-------------------------

Bradley's ideas were decidedly not the best, but you didn't come up with anything better, so you just went along with him. It was blazing hot out the following afternoon at the beach, and you felt a little bloated in your bathing suit, but your husband literally couldn't keep his hands off you.

"Roo!" you scolded when he came running over to you mid football game while you lounged on your back on a towel next to Phoenix. He dripped water all over your legs before dropping into a pushup position above you and kissing your lips until you giggled. 

"I can't help it," he panted. "I'm obsessed with this bathing suit. You wore it to the cliffs beach the first time you kissed me."

"Gross," Phoenix moaned as Bradley dipped his tongue into your mouth before standing again. 

Then he flopped down on her towel and kissed her cheek as he said, "All thanks to my very best friend."

"Go away!" she screeched, pushing on him until he got up and ran back to the rest of the guys who were all tipsy and trying to tackle Mickey. "He's horrible. I can't believe you married him," she said as she rolled onto her stomach. You wanted to be able to do that, but you were feeling pretty nauseous.  

"We all make mistakes," you replied, trying to discreetly eat another cracker. "Bradley's is the fact that he didn't reapply sunblock yet. I should probably call him back over."

"Please don't," Phoenix moaned. You sat up on your towel and tried to stretch, and then you saw Bob making his way down the beach. But he wasn't alone. 

"Maria!" you called out, waving your friend and Bob's new roommate your way.

Phoenix raised her arm in greeting, and you didn't miss the way Bob smiled down at Maria as she turned toward the towels as Bob headed for the water, catching a pass from Javy on his way.

"Hey," Maria greeted, dropping her bag down next to yours.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" you asked, patting your towel next to you.

She dropped down as she said, "I didn't really know I was. I got home from taekwondo right when Bob was getting ready to come here, and he invited me. Then he waited while I got changed."

You could tell she was looking at him through her dark sunglasses. Interesting. 

"Is he driving you crazy with his dice collection yet?" Phoenix asked her, and Maria started laughing.

"No, but it was so cute when he unpacked them. He has them all sorted by color, and he told me about his Dungeons & Dragons character while we drank a bottle of wine." Suddenly she stopped talking and cleared her throat. "So, how are you two?"

You gave her side eye as your stomach started to gurgle. You were really afraid you weren't going to make it through the day without being sick. You watched Jake pumping the keg of beer and squirting it directly from the nozzle into his mouth, and you prayed they finished the whole thing before anyone tried to offer you another cup. "I'm fine," you said absently. "I'll be back. Let me make sure Bradley puts on more sunblock."

You grabbed the tube from your bag and headed toward the water as Maria and Nat started to discuss workplace politics. "Bradley!" you called when you got a little closer, but he couldn't hear you over the sound of the waves and the guys all yelling. "Roo!" You waved your hand in the air, and Reuben turned toward you right as he was looking for a receiver to catch his throw. The football spun in slow motion, powerfully thrown, and you gasped as it was headed right for you. It was going to hit you in the stomach.

At the last second, you dropped the sunblock and turned, squeezing your eyes closed and holding out your hand. The ball hit you hard in the hip, and you gasped in pain.

"What the fuck, Payback!" Bradley thundered as he ran toward you, kicking up wet sand as your eyes welled up with tears behind your sunglasses. "Sweetheart! Are you okay?" His big hands were all over you, as you tried to nod. When his fingers grazed your belly, he pulled you close. "Where did you get hit?" he asked, wrapping his other arm around you. 

"My hip," you managed, and his hand dropped lower as he pulled you to his chest. "I'm okay. I just wanted you to put more sunblock on."

Now Reuben came rushing over. "I'm so sorry!" he said, reaching out a hand and placing it on your shoulder. 

You could feel Bradley tense up, and you had to whisper, "I'm okay. It didn't hit my belly. I swear, Roo."

Then he snapped at his friend. "Can you fucking pay attention next time?" 

"I'm sorry," Reuben repeated, and you left Bradley's arms to give him a squeeze instead. 

"I'm fine," you promised him. "Bradley's just protective, and it did hurt a bit."

"I will be extra careful," he promised.

"And I won't wander into the game unless I'm completely ready to play."

"It wasn't your fault," Bradley growled, and now you had to put your hands on his arms. 

"I'm fine," you reiterated. "Just put on more sunblock, okay? I don't want you to be in pain and bright red tonight when I will probably need you for special activities."

That got him to quirk one eyebrow up as you kissed him. "Okay." He bent and picked up the tube and tucked it into the pocket of his cutoffs, and as soon as you wandered away, the football game picked up again.

------------------------

By the time Javy and Jake started the bonfire, Bradley was feeling pretty drunk. Reuben was still keeping a safe distance from him, which was making Bradley feel a little bit bad. It wasn't like he hit you on purpose, but the idea of the football hitting you that hard even close to your belly scared him. A lot. But you were claiming you were just fine, and he believed what you said. You even showed him the exact spot where you said you would be sore and bruised by tomorrow, and it seemed like it was a little closer to your butt than anywhere else. 

Right now, you were laughing with Nat and Maria, and you had a red solo cup of beer on your hand that you weren't drinking. Every time you looked at him a certain way, he pretended to fill his cup all the way and switched with you. It was working out well enough, except that he was getting drunk twice as fast this way.

"Come on," Nat was saying as she pulled on your arm. "Do a keg stand! I'll do one if you do one!"

You gave him the look and he sighed. He hadn't done a fucking keg stand since he was at UVA, and frankly he was too old for this shit, but he knew what he needed to do. "Nat, I can drink you under the fucking table any day of the week."

She turned to him, eyes flashing. "Prove it."

Next thing he knew, he was doing a handstand on top of the keg, one leg held up by Bob and the other by Javy, and Jake was squirting a steady stream of whatever shitty beer this was into his mouth while he tried to swallow it before it dripped down to his nose. Everyone started counting, and he made it thirty seconds before he started shaking his head. Once his feet were back on the sand, he realized his vision was a little blurry. 

When you wrapped your arms around his waist, he hissed. Shit. He never did reapply the sunblock like you told him to. Oh no. Now Mickey wanted him to do another keg stand. 

"Okay, birthday boy," Bradley replied, and you released him so he could have another go. This time, he couldn't remember how long he lasted, but everyone was slapping his sunburned back and jostling him around a lot. And he was drunk. Like really fucking drunk.

"How did he get like this, Angel?" Jake asked as he slung his arm around you. 

Bradley scoffed. "Hey, that's my wife," he slurred as he reached for your hand.

"Yeah, I'm well aware," Jake replied, and then Bradley started laughing when he remembered that you and Jake were friends, and he decided to lay down on your beach towel for a little bit. 

He couldn't be sure how long he was there, but the air was cooling down as the night wore on, and he felt kisses on his forehead. "Baby Girl."

"Yeah, I'm right here, Daddy," you whispered, taking his hands in yours. "Thanks for drinking enough to kill a horse."

He started laughing hysterically as he got to his feet. "You're fucking funny."

"I know, Roo," you said as you tugged him along the beach. "That's why you married me."

"No, it's not," he swore. "No. No. Not just that. I married you, because I had to."

You laughed as the new Bronco came into view, and Bradley wondered where everyone else was. "You had to marry me?"

"Oh yeah," he replied. "I knew it right away. Couldn't live without you. You're too sweet. And your ass is too fucking fine."

He let you push him into the passenger side door, and he kissed your forehead as you buckled him in. "Oh, Bradley," you giggled. "You're a mess." You were cupping his face gently, and you were going in and out of focus a bit, but he knew he didn't have to worry too much about anything while you were here.

"I love you," he whispered, and you pressed the softest kiss to his lips. "I love you and the baby."

As you brushed your fingers back through his hair, you told him, "Please don't barf in my Bronco, Sweetheart."

-------------------------

Bradley couldn't even move until Sunday afternoon. You tried your best not to laugh too much, but the combination of his hangover and the sunburn were perhaps the funniest thing you'd ever seen. He was walking around the house completely naked and holding his head. When you tried to facetime your parents, you had to send him back to the bedroom, and you could hear him moaning the whole time. 

"Do you want more aloe?" you asked him as you munched on a peanut butter cracker. "Or something to eat."

"Stop talking about food," he begged from his spot on his stomach on the bathroom floor. "And if you put more aloe on my back, I need you to do it very softly. Like how gentle I was with your tits, okay?" Then he groaned and lifted his head up from the bath mat. "God, I can't even fuck you properly right now."

You squeezed aloe onto your hands and carefully massaged it into his skin. "That's okay. Maybe you can watch me masturbate later?"

"Fuck! That's like a punishment! My hands are fine. I'll finger you. It'll be great." He winced as you rubbed him a little too hard by accident, so you kissed his pink cheek. 

"Just rest up, Daddy. We have a big week. I need to finish my portion of the presentation for Annapolis."

"I can help you practice it," he promised, petting Tramp when he wandered in to get an update on things. "And don't forget about 4:30 on Wednesday afternoon. That's the most important part of the week."

You combed your fingers through his hair, and his eyes closed as your tummy swooped. "First appointment with the obstetrician," you whispered. Excitement filled you up every time you thought about it, but so did a bit of anxiety. You'd been waiting seemingly forever to get to this point, and as you rubbed your sore hip, your mind filled with negative thoughts. What if they couldn't do an ultrasound? What if you didn't get to see the baby? What if there was something wrong?

"Hey." Bradley was sitting up, and his arms were open for you even though he looked a bit like a lobster. You crawled willingly into his overheated embrace, and if you were hurting him, he didn't say a word about it. "Wednesday, Baby Girl. I couldn't be more excited. Just wait, everything will be perfect."

You were surprised to find that the week didn't drag too much. Work was busy, and Bradley's sunburn was starting to peel. When you were on the verge of tears on Tuesday night because your libido was so insane right now, he fucked you hard in the kitchen while he said, "Next time, please force me to reapply the sunblock!"

"I will," you moaned as you came, delighting in the feeling of perfect release. 

And next thing you knew, it was Wednesday, and you were about to meet your new doctor for the first time. And hopefully you were going to see your baby for the first time.

"Are you nervous?" you asked Bradley as he laced his fingers with yours as you sat in the quiet waiting room together. There were expectant mothers at varying stages of pregnancy sitting around you, and you tried to imagine how big you'd be in a few more months. 

"Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

You nodded. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He kissed you hard on the lips. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now," he said with a laugh. "And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Tears filled your eyes as you turned to tuck your face against his neck. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and told him how much you loved him back, and then you jolted in your seat as a friendly looking nurse called your name. 

"Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

------------------------

I'm hoping for a family photo in the next part! I also don't know how she's going to survive Annapolis right now. I also can't believe Maria and Bob aren't about to fuck nasty. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 30

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[luveline]

Hii

Whenever you have time could you please do more single dad!Spencer. It’s just too cute and it really warms my heart how you write it.

tysm ♡ dad!spencer and his daughter amanda find their reunion unexpectedly interrupted when you need a place to stay the night. fem!reader, 3.4k

Spencer doesn't mind how tactile Amanda is. If anything, he loves it, content to have her sitting in his lap or on his hip, anywhere he goes and anywhere she wants to be. He tries to get in as much affectionate time with her as he can when he's home to make up for his days away. 

He doesn't like missing her, but he loves coming home. Amy sits on his stomach while Spencer lays on the couch, using his thighs as a backboard while they both fail to pay attention to the kids cartoons on their TV. 

"Were you good for Mrs. Gomorrah?" he asks, though he knows she was. He had to live through the agony that was teaching Mrs. Gomorrah how to text on a cell phone he bought for her years ago, but it was worth it to get those incremental updates that he relies on every day to get to the next without catching a flight home.

Amy had pizza 

Amy misses you. She said she is kissing you through my phone

Wants a new dress for school party tonight, emergency money OK to use? said she loves you 

Aaskkk k k o 

Sorry, accidentally texted you, Amanda made dinner tonight [photo]

The text messages help being far away feel less like torture. Spencer loves his job but he wonders if he should love it less, sometimes, when Mrs. Gomorrah remembers how to send photos, or when he can make it back to the hotel before bed time and call Amy.

But here she is in the flesh. Spencer doesn't worry about work when she's holding his hand. 

"I was good," she confirms, wiping hair from her face with a blue sleeve. She's in her pyjamas at three thirty. Spencer's in his matching set, blue long sleeve t-shirts with two dogs —a grown up and a puppy, seemingly a dad dog and his daughter— on the shirt and miniature dogs on the pants. "Promise. We did fruit kebabs last night." 

Spencer saw photos, but he still says, "Yeah? What fruits did you have? You know, strawberries will be extra yummy again soon because they're back in season." 

"We had strawberries, and bananas, and the green one, kiwi." She puts one of her feet up on his chest. He makes wide eyes at it to hear her giggle. "And with chocolate and maple syrup, it was really yummy." 

"We should make Tanghulu." 

This is a new word for Amy. "Tanghulu?" 

"It started with a berry called Chinese hawthorn, but now people use lots of different fruits. You make a fruit kebab, but instead of chocolate, you dip the fruit into hot sugar and it goes hard as it cools like rock candy, and you have good strong teeth, so you could eat it no problem." 

"It turns the fruit into candy?" she asks, wiggling her toes. 

"Kind of." Spencer covers her foot with his hand unthinkingly. She looks tired already though it's only the afternoon. She gets very tired when Spencer comes home, like she'd been waiting. "Do you want to have a nap with me, sweetpea?" 

"No, I don't think so."

Spencer made a mistake when she was younger. He thought leaving while she was sleeping would make it easier to say goodbye. It was for him, but Amy didn't sleep or eat right for days, and Spencer had to come home before the case was over to stop her from making herself sick. They've worked on it, Spencer never ever leaves without saying goodbye, but she still gets scared to sleep when they're together sometimes. 

He ushers her forward. "Come here," he says, "quick, give me a hug." She flops forward and Spencer arranges her into a cuddle, hand against her hair, his nose pressed to her forehead. "I missed you." 

"Missed you more," she says. 

"Not true. I missed you so much." 

"Don't go away again for a day," she says. 

"I'm staying home for a whole week. Maybe longer, okay? But I promise you, seven whole days no matter what." And he means it. The only thing that could change his mind is a mass murder situation, but otherwise, they'll have to make it work without him. He hates to say that kind of thing, but he has to say it, because Amy is his first priority. 

She relaxes into his arms. "Okay." 

His phone rings, because of course it does. Amy frowns her displeasure with tears shining silver in her eyes. Spencer shakes his head at her, "I'm not going, Ames. I promised. I won't answer anybody, this week is just going to be me and you." 

She glares at the phone and rests her chubby cheek on his chest. Spencer wonders if it's uncomfortable considering his lack of padding and sits up with an arm behind her seatbelting her to his front. "Let's go watch TV in bed." 

Her hands grab at the back of his shirt. "Bring your phone, dad," she says. 

Spencer kisses the side of her head. "No, I told you already, I'm not going." 

"What if Mrs. Gomorrah wants to come for dinner?" she asks, her voice smaller, sleepy. She rubs her face into his front. 

It's a good point. Spencer picks up his phone to check if it was her and frowns at the missed call. It's you. You've texted him too. 

"It's Y/N," he says. 

Amy knows you because whenever he's had to bring her with him (not often, but occasionally on regular work days when there's school reset days), you're very, very kind to her. You're not sure of yourself around kids but it doesn't matter, you let Amy sit with you if she wants to and you always talk to her with care, offer her snacks, anything that you can share. 

It's why he calls you back. That, and you're a nice friend. 

— 

You're feeling about as ashamed and sheepish as a girl can be as you take the elevator up to Spencer's floor. You don't want to impose on anybody, but you'd rather have died than ask Hotch, JJ's taking a vacation in Santa Monica, Penelope's on a conference with Kevin, Emily chose to use her week on an undisclosed trip, and Morgan was similarly off the radar. 

And you know Spencer has Amanda, you know they've been apart for longer than they've been together this month, and you hate interrupting their time together, but… you couldn't stay home no matter how badly you wanted to. Stupid landlord. Stupid cockroaches and stupid fumigation tents.

You carry your go bag with nothing but a week's worth of dirty clothes and your wallet. Your phone is about to die and you'd really wanted, more than anything, to crawl into bed and sleep the daytime away. 

You've never been to Spencer's apartment despite knowing him well, and liking him more. You knock on the door, apartment 305B. You're dead on your feet at this point, exhausted by the jet ride home, the commute to your apartment, the subsequent ten minutes spent crying on the sidewalk, and the next half hour debating if you could bother Spencer. Maybe you should've got a hotel, but it was already getting late and you just needed something familiar. Selfishly, you needed someone you knew after such a shitty case. 

"Hello," Spencer says, opening the door with a familiar girl held in his arms, "don't mind my jacket." 

Amy's clearly sleeping, tiny snores echoing from near his neck. It's cute, but it makes you feel much worse. "I'm sorry–" 

He doesn't let you apologise, "Are you kidding? What were you gonna do? We're excited to have you." He's kind of talking to you like Amy's still awake, enthusiastic whisper-shouting as he pulls you inside. 

"It's just for tonight, I promise. They said I'll be able to  back in by evening tomorrow," you say, holding your bag to your chest. You blink at him as you follow him to the kitchen. "Are you wearing matching pyjamas?" 

"You came over last minute!" he defends with a laugh. 

Spencer opens his hand for your bag and puts it behind a steaming bowl of soup. "Oh, were you guys eating dinner?" you ask. 

"No, that's for you. I'm gonna put Amy in bed and then I can do your laundry. Did you need a hug?" 

"What?" 

Spencer smiles at you. "I thought maybe you're having a bad day." He offers his empty arm and you don't know how to say no, don't want to, careful not to bump into Amy as you curl your arm behind his back. "We're happy to have you. You could stay all week and that would be fine. Did they really give you no warning?" 

"I called my landlord and he laughed and then kind of got quiet. I think he forgets that I live there." 

Spencer pulls away and puts a hand on Amy's back. She's very slight like Spencer but if she were any older he'd struggle to carry her for as long as he has. You can see the fatigue trembling in his left arm. "It's not legal for him to leave you with nowhere to stay, and without any notice. You could ask Hotch–" 

"It's okay." You gesture to Amy's face. "She's getting so big." 

"And heavy. Be back in a few. Eat on the couch if you want to." 

You wouldn't. Spencer takes Amy into one room off of the main room, and then comes back to grab your laundry before disappearing into another. His apartment is a fun but odd layout, the door leading into a living room slash kitchen with a dining table, then opening out left and right, bedrooms toward the back of the apartment and a bathroom behind. It reminds you of a flower, that central hub of life and the petals curling outward. 

You pick up your spoon cautiously. He definitely said the food was for you, but it's so strange to be greeted with a meal, you can't remember the last time someone made sure you had something to eat. 

Spencer doesn't attract your attention until he's pulling up a chair next to you with two glasses set on the table. "I put your pyjamas on quick wash. And your, uh, your grey bag." 

Your grey bag is a little net bag full of delicates. You try to be adult about it, but it's so super awkward that you end up laughing aloud, "Oh, shit, I'm sorry." 

"Don't be. It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you. I just put the entire bag in, like, intact." 

You believe that, but you infer from the tightness of his voice that he's worried you'll think he's weird. Honestly, he's just nice, even if it's awkward. Everybody wears underwear. "That's what it's for," you say. 

"Do you think they make those in a bigger size? Amy's vests get tangled sometimes because the straps are skinny, that would be useful." 

"I'm sure they do," you say, toying with your spoon. "I… really don't know how to say thank you. I know we're friends, but it's different. To let me stay."

"When I was a kid I didn't have many friends. By high school I didn't have one. So I never got to have sleepovers until Amanda. And she's my best friend, but she's six, so…" 

You both laugh suddenly, beaming at one another in your wrinkled, mismatched clothes. 

You finish your meal through lighthearted conversation. Spencer takes your dish for the sink and you both move to the couch to watch TV. 

Clifford the Big Red Dog plays on mute. "I know you're thrilled to watch something this intellectually tantalising, but maybe we should watch a movie. There's a guide under the cushion," Spencer says. 

You dig for the guide but wherever he thinks it is, it isn't. 

"Doesn't matter. Mrs. Gomorrah will have one, I'll take her some dinner at the same time. Would you keep your ear on Amy? She might wake up."

He makes a tray for Mrs. Gomorrah, a neighbour and good friend of his. You've met her once when she brought Amy into the office, an Italian-American woman who's black and silver hair bounced when she talked. Beside his mother living in a sanitarium in Nevada, and his small daughter, Mrs. Gomorrah is Spencer's only family. He treats her accordingly. 

The washing machine starts to beep a few minutes after he's left. You spring from the couch and track down his washer and dryer, transferring your damp wash into the dryer and frowning at the machine's strange settings.

"Daddy?" a small voice calls. Sharper, unhappy, "Daddy?" 

"Amy!" you say, moving from your crouch to stand in the doorway. "Hi, honey! Your dad just went to give Mrs. Gomorrah some dinner." 

Amy squints at you. "Miss Y/N?" 

"Hi," you say tentatively. "My house is kind of broken for a bit and I asked your dad if I can stay the night." You bend to meet her eyes properly. "Would that be okay with you?" 

"Yeah," she says, smiling. "Yeah, please stay. Daddy's friends never come over." 

"Did you need something, honey? I can help." 

"No… You're sure he's at Mrs. Gomorrah's?" 

"Definitely one hundred percent positive. He can't go to work without me, can he?" 

Amy shrugs little shoulders. "I guess not." 

You can't help laughing at her. With the sound of the dryer bumping behind you, you meet Amy near the dining table and touch her shoulder gently to prompt her toward the couch. She jumps up onto the seat with the most cushions and you sit beside her. You and Spencer never managed to pick a movie, so the kids channel still plays on mute. 

"How do you turn it up?" you ask, offering her the remote hopelessly. 

Amy sidles against your side and points. You click the small white speaker button, greeted by the barks of another episode of Clifford. 

"Is this one okay?" you ask. 

"I love Clifford."

It can't be two minutes before she rests her head against your arm, her hand locking over the crook of your elbow. 

You're not sure what to do. She's Spencer's kid, so she probably does. "Do you want a cuddle?" you ask her. You'd be happy to give her one, but you don't know what's okay with her. 

"Please." 

You hang your arm across her shoulders and behind her back, stroking a tentative and short line into her arm, just once. "These are nice pyjamas, Amy. I saw your dad has the same ones." They're soft under your arm. Her hair brushes your wrist as she turns her head to crinkle her nose at you. 

"Thank you. Me and dad have all matching pyjamas," she says proudly. 

"All?" 

"Well, maybe not all. But lots." 

She hums and shuffles closer to your chest. It felt odd at first ���although Amy has sat in your lap at your desk at work, and even given you a hug on her birthday to say thank you for the books and candies, you're not used to children or the things that they want. But it feels less foreign the longer she sits there, and you find yourself relaxing for the first time that day. 

Spencer comes back with a shiny TV Guide Magazine and a bundle of Amy's clothes under his arm. His eyes light up as her head peeks over the back of the couch. 

"Sorry, I was just at Mrs. Gomorrah's," he says, quickly putting everything down to take her into his arms. 

"I know," Amy says into his shirt. 

He kisses her head. You almost miss it, the affection quiet and swift. "Was your nap okay? Or do you need another one?" 

"Dad! Y/N's here." 

"Y/N doesn't care that you take naps, she takes naps too." Snoozing up against his shoulder with drool running down your chin. 

"No, I can't sleep because we're having a slumber party!" 

"We are?" he asks. 

"But she needs matching jammies." 

"Well, I don't have anything matching, but it won't be long for all my clothes to dry. I can wear jammies, then, at least," you assure her, sending Spencer a squinting smile that says, She's the cutest thing on planet Earth. 

He smiles back, as if to say, She really is. "Maybe Y/N wants a nap." 

Amy's concern lands on you. She climbs out of Spencer's arms, pressing her hand to your shoulder. "Please don't nap, I want to play games." 

"I'll play games, babe," you say. "Any game you want." 

"Yes! And, and maybe we can make, um–" Puzzled, Amy quirks her mouth into a frown and bounds back to Spencer. He rounds the couch and leans down at her gesturing. "What's it called, the fruit candy?" she whispers.

"From earlier?" he whispers back. "It's tanghulu. Tang-who-loo." 

She whispers a sweet thank you, spinning on the spot with her hands held behind her back. "We can make tanghulu, it's fruit kebabs turned to candy! Do you want to?"

Spencer smooths her hair back from her face. "You don't have to," he mouths, already squeezing her arm like he's prepared to talk her down. 

"Well, if it's okay with your dad I'd love to."

She gasps happily, jumping down off the sofa to race into the bathroom. "I'll wash my hands!" 

Spencer snorts and sits on the couch arm. "Notice how she didn't even ask me?" 

"You know that's a good thing." Spencer's probably read every parenting book there is. "She's so smart, Spencer. So smart, it's incredible. You're amazing." 

He scratches the collar of his sleep shirt, his curls moving as though woken by a gentle breeze as he nods to one side, "She shows some signs of an eidetic memory. Not like mine, but most children who have eidetic memories don't have them like I do. I can't take the credit for that, you know, beyond genetics." 

"Of course you can, someone had to teach her these things for her to remember them. You're never as nice to yourself as you should be, Spence. Everybody knows you're a great dad." You slouch back into the couch. "And I'm not just saying that because you're letting me stay for free." 

"There's no version of this situation where I would ever charge you. Thank you, Y/N. Having her by myself has been hard– it's hard. She's easy and I love her and she's better for me than she probably should be." He winces, his talking rushed, like he's listing statistics. "I haven't really been by myself. Mrs. Gomorrah. The team. We've known each other for a year but you act like Amy's family whenever you see her, and that means a lot to me. That's why I'm glad you called. You can always call me if you need help." 

"You can always call me," you murmur back. 

Spencer bumps your thigh with his knuckles. "I'm glad we're friends. Are you sure you're not too tired? Tanghulu isn't easy if you've never made it." 

"Says who?" 

"East Asian Eating, issue 78. We have to find the sugar, water, glucose syrup sweet spot or the candy doesn't harden."

"We can do it. You're the smartest guy I know, and I've been known to be resourceful. Plus, we have a world class assistant." 

Spencer stands up and offers you his hand to help you come with him, his fingers brushing yours for a moment that seems to stretch for minutes. "Just curious," he says softly, to your heart's clear delight, "when was your last check up at the dentist?" 

Right. He isn't about to tell you something you want to hear. This is Spencer —you should've guessed an odd question was on the horizon. 

"I'll have to think about it," you say.  

Amy bounds out of the bathroom and paints a trail of water droplets from the table to the kitchen. "He thinks you have weak teeth!" she explains. 

"That is not what I think." 

[afterglowkatie]

pair of pests: lyon (I) ˏˋ°•*⁀ kyra x catley!reader, short fic/blurb

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 1.7k | based off of this ask

‘Did you want to go get dinner?’ You asked both Steph and Kyra. Placing your hands against your body to stop the tell tale sign that you were nervous. Whenever you were nervous your hands would always almost uncontrollably shake, anyone who really knows you, they would be able to see this straight away. You couldn’t have that right now.

‘Yeah, should we see if any of the other girls want to come?’ Without waiting for a response from either you or Kyra, Steph almost went to start asking around. 

‘NO,’ Your voice came out more loud and panicked than you intended it to, ‘I mean, I’m a bit tired so maybe we could just keep it to us three?’ Kyra and Steph both gave you a weird look.

‘If you’re tired maybe we should just get something to go?’ Kyra chimed in this time. 

All you wanted to do was find a time and a perfect way to tell them the news that had been sitting in your mind for a little while now. News that was about to be announced in the next couple of weeks and you’d been working up the courage to tell them both before they found out in any other way. 

You were becoming a little frustrated that nothing was going to plan right now. Hoping that it wasn’t foreshadowing how you telling them the news would go, ‘I’m tired, yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to go out and eat. It just means I’d only really enjoy the company of my sister and my girlfriend. Please,’ 

You’d finally been able to convince both Steph and Kyra to actually go out to eat instead of taking something home. If you’d gone back to the apartment, you definitely wouldn’t have told them. You had no idea why but it seemed easier in a more public setting, maybe because if it went horribly there was an easy way to escape.

Though sitting at the restaurant now your nerves started dissipating. The three of you were talking and laughing like you normally would, both you and Kyra constantly making fun of Steph. You’d almost forgotten the actual reason why you had asked them both to dinner.

Almost forgetting until Steph decided to bring up the topic. Everyone knew your contract with Arsenal was ending at the end of the season, the end of the season which was now very close and no one had heard anything from you or the club. Sometimes there might be a few leaks or whispers here and there that go around the change room. But with you, there had been nothing. No one knew if Arsenal were even negotiating anything with you at this point, and it was concerning some people.

‘So have you heard anything yet?’ Steph didn’t need to specify, you knew exactly what she was asking. The question also piqued Kyra’s interest, you hadn’t mentioned anything to her either. You wanted to stay at Arsenal with everyone but it didn’t work that way sometimes. But if you started talking about other clubs with Kyra or with Steph, or anyone really, then it felt like you were already accepting what was happening.

You’d had a few amazing seasons with Arsenal and a part of you thought for sure that you would be offered another contract. The last few seasons you’d worked so hard for that club, even making your way into the starting line-up for the majority of the matches in the current season. So your heart was majorly shattered when you had to accept the reality of making contact with other clubs to see what offers were out there for you.

You had quite a few offers from all over the place, a few from wsl clubs, nwsl clubs and clubs scattered all throughout Europe. It felt like too much all at once and choosing a new club was seemingly growing more difficult. There was one person you turned to and only one person that actually knew about your eventual departure from Arsenal.

Viv helped you through the whole process, you felt bad that you didn’t get Steph to help but you could barely stand the thought that you had to leave your sister yet again. You loved playing with your sister, whenever you got the chance you loved it more than anything. So it was easier to have Viv help you and that’s how you eventually decided to make the deal with Lyon final. 

‘You’ve heard something, haven’t you?’ Your silence spoke louder than any words could in that moment. Looking down at the food you nodded your head slightly. Taking a moment before you changed everything for good.

‘I’m not staying with Arsenal,’ The news would’ve come as a surprise but Steph and Kyra both had a feeling that this kind of news was coming. They knew deep down that if you were staying at Arsenal then you most likely would’ve let that kind of information slip to either of them, ‘They didn’t want to offer me another contract,’

‘What? How could they not?’ Kyra spoke up first, not wanting to believe that was the truth. It didn’t make any sense to her.

‘I just didn’t fit with their plans for next season,’ You shrugged as you relayed what you had been told. You were really trying not to be bitter about it all, not wanting this ending to overshadow your last few seasons with the club.

Steph shared the same feelings towards this as Kyra did, ‘Not fit with their plans? You’ve been nothing but amazing for us all season,’ Steph’s voice raised a bit too much, drawing looks from others around you who were just enjoying their meal, ‘Have you been in contact with other clubs?’

‘Yeah,’ Taking a deep breath, you were preparing for their reactions, ‘I’ve signed with Lyon,’ The air between the three of you was thick, Kyra was oddly silent and just blank staring your way.

Neither Steph, Kyra or you spoke. You ended up just pushing around the food that was on your plate, not wanting to keep looking at the two when you can’t read what they’re thinking or feeling. Steph looked between you and Kyra and decided to excuse herself to the bathroom, leaving you and Kyra alone to talk about it. As much as Steph wanted to ask you about it all, she knew with your relationship you and Kyra should probably talk about it first.

‘How come you didn’t talk to me about it? You know I’ll always support you, no matter what that is. And I’m not trying to control your career or you or anything you know, but we’ve been together for a while now and this affects both of us,’ Kyra was right, you’d been together for a few years, but you never included her in your decision making.

‘I’m sorry Ky, it’s just that I thought that if I talked about it then I would be accepting it all. I don’t know, it’s all been too much these last few weeks,’ You dropped your head into your hands. There was no way to go about this that felt right and everything was feeling wrong.

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ Kyra reached over grabbing your hands, taking them away from your face and making you look at her, ‘I’m not going to lie and say I’m not hurt, but I’m still going to be here and support you,’ Kyra rubbed her thumbs over your hand soothingly.

‘It all feels so wrong, I wanted to stay at Arsenal with you and everyone. It felt wrong accepting another wsl club offer but at the same time I wanted to stay close but I just couldn’t do it,’ You rambled on, finally freeing yourself of every single thought you’ve kept to yourself during the process. All Kyra did was just listen, it’s all she could do. Kyra wouldn’t pretend to understand how you’re feeling and what you’re going through but she could offer support and a shoulder to lean on.

‘I wish you didn’t have to leave,’ Kyra gave you a small smile, one that you returned. There was an air of sadness to these smiles, ‘What does this mean for us?’

There was no doubt in your mind that you weren’t about to give up your relationship with Kyra. You were more than sure that you and Kyra could handle the distance, ‘Well it’s a three year contract and I’m only in France you know,’ You gave a quiet chuckle, ‘I don’t want to lose you, Ky. I love you so much and I am confident that we can handle this,’ A wave of relief washed over Kyra’s face, she didn’t want to let you go but thought maybe it might not be reciprocated, even after all these years.

‘Good, because I wouldn’t ever let you go without a fight,’ You were glad that Kyra wasn’t all that upset with you. The two of you would definitely talk about it more in detail the closer it all gets, you still had time right now.

When you’d gotten back to the apartment, Kyra and Steph shared a look without you knowing. Kyra gave you a kiss on the cheek before saying she’d wait in your room, pushing you towards where Steph had now gotten comfy on the couch.

‘So, Lyon huh?’ Steph nudged your shoulder, making sure to keep it all light hearted to save you the stress from thinking she was upset with you leaving. It was quite the opposite. Steph loved watching you grow as a person and within your career, and for a club like Lyon to be interested in you, well she was more than proud of you.

‘Jealous? I’ll have more of a chance at winning the champions league now,’ You both laughed, Steph pushing you lightly at your lighthearted joke, that was partly not a joke but the truth.

Once the laughter died down, Steph wrapped her arm around you and pulled you into her side, giving you a tight hug, ‘For real though, I am incredibly proud of how far you’ve come. I can’t wait to see you do great things at Lyon,’ You smiled hearing Steph’s words. Being your older sister, her opinion has always mattered so much to you, you’d always looked up to her and you don’t think that would ever stop, ‘And no matter where you go, I’ll always be your biggest supporter,’

‘I think you’d have to fight Kyra and Harper for that title Stephy,’

[icarusredwings]

The Master does things in 4s.

A headcanon.

"Elaborate"

Oh, I will.

Tapping, knocking, steps, snacks, kisses, etc.

He's spent the last thousands of years with this beat in his head so subconsciously He's picked up some bad habits that revolve around it.

In this essay I will be-

I can argue that Simm is the worst off and that the poor guy is constantly having fits about things not being in 4s. The prime minister demands that all of his meals be in 4s. Theres only three pieces of chicken? No. He wants 4.

He doesn't sleep unless it's 4,8, or 12 hours, no in between, and gets upset if woken up at 6 or 10 hours. We already know about the tapping, but it's how he knocks on doors, how many steps he takes at a time, how he eats his snacks in rations of 4 8 12 16.

You can give him 16 chicken nuggets, but dont you DARE give him 17. He's actively flipped tables before because of this, and if he really is tired or masking, he will only eat the even number and throw the odd one at someone.

Dhawan snaps and claps in sets of 4. He humms it sometimes on beat to self soothe. His hands flap when he can't have something in 4s and religiously gives everyone 4 ice cubes in their tea. The tea gets steeped for 4 minutes or 8 minutes. He'll explode if you ask yours to be steeped for 5 6 or 7. He also has 4 books on the bedside and 8 by his desk.

Missy likes to hear her heels click 4 times as she walks and will purposly take smaller steps just so she can land on a multiple of 4. 4 tea sandwitches, 4 types of lip stick, 4 pieces of jewlery.

She even swings her umbrella 4 times when bored. Hers is a lot more tamer compared to the boys because women with these disorders often are less "hyperactive" and less likely to make a scene than men are. (Statistically)

Hell, even Sax subconsciously has an issue with it while living with 14. He applies his eyeliner twice on each eye to make 4. He forces 14 to kiss him in sets of 4, he constantly is arranging the pillows on the bed to only he 4 of them, and well- theres something else with 14 but im going to keep this post PG 13.

Now he can have 2 of things instead of 4, but some things (that don't hurt anyone) are still allowed to be 4s OR more. For example, the pillows on the bed, kisses, and ice cubes in his tea. He can now handle there being 6 pillows instead of 4, receiving a multiple of 2 kisses (10/16) instead of 4s(8/12). You have to have it on an even number, though, or he'll force another.

He doesn't know why. He just DOES. And he won't tell you "because of the beating" because to him, it's all done unconsiously-

"There needs to be 4 pillows."

"Why?"

"I- Look, I don't know, okay!? There just needs to be 4 pillows!"

But anyone with half of a brain cell (who knows about the drums) does. 14 knows and is slowly trying to get him away from emotional disregulation because of it by working towards sets of 2s instead. It's a lot more socially acceptable for sets of 2s to be done than 4s. Even regular humans want packs of 2 or dishes that comes with 2 of something, so it's a lot easier and less stressful for both the Master and everyone around him.

Now he doesn't cause a scene at McDonald's if there's a ton of ice cubes in his drink instead of 4. Thank god he doesn't count his food much anymore, either. It's why he's been able to put on a bit of weight. But still, if you give him 17 nuggets, you're getting one thrown at your head. (So 14 goes out of his way to give him an 18th)

Thanks for coming to my TED talk

[jvnluvr]

“you’re warm, c’mere.” — blue lock boys ♡

when the blue lock boys take care of you when you’re sick.

ft. sae, kaiser, rin & isagi x f!reader

author’s note: OH MY LORD I FINALLY FINISHED THIS ! i‘m writing this while i’m in immense pain so this idea came through !! we went from like 400 to 700 in two weeks so one omfg how?? and second of all thank u all i love u sm from the bottom of my heart ♡ i'm still working on requests sadly,, hopefully i can finish them soon and i'm also thinking of releasing a fic,, but anyways enjoy the fluff ♡

itoshi sae:

to be honest, if you were in the decline of becoming more and more sick, sae wouldn’t be able to notice. he was just away from your house too much to be able to see your health slowly going down the drain. so the day you are physically unable to get out of bed, is coincidentally the same day sae’s practice runs extremely late. he’s almost jogging home, not wanting to worry you.

but when he opens the door to your shared home, he’s confused when all the light are still off, and everything seems untouched. “[name]? where are you?” and still, there was no response. his first instinct is to check your bedroom, because maybe you had just fallen asleep early this time around. so when sae slowly opens the door and sees you sitting there, eyes barely open and dark, hair disheveled and drinking water out of a tiny cup, his heart cracks.

“sweetheart,, what happened?” he closes the door behind him, going across to sit next to you. sae pats your hair down, giving you a hug so you can sniffle in his chest. “mm, think i came down a fever or somethin’, it was really bad when i woke up today. but you left early.” sae quite genuinely felt bad for not noticing, what kind of boyfriend doesn't realize? all while he's mentally shaming himself, you let out a loud (but still cute) sneeze, catching him out of his thoughts.

"sorry.. was practice okay?" you murmured, pulling the blanket back onto your now half warm body. he leans over you as you’re now tucked back into bed, looking at the way your cheeks are clearly flushed red and the faintest difference in the way you’re breathing, struggling. sae feels even worse looking at you now, so he finally realizes that he should do whatever he can to help you feel comfortable.

he removes his jacket, setting it on the bed as he goes out to the kitchen to make you some of your favourite food, not forgetting to bring the medicine that for some reason is all the way at the end of the cupboard. he sets it down all on a little tray, carefully walking towards your room once again where sae still sees you laying down in the same position from when he left the room.

"hmhmmm, mi amor, time to eat." sae hums at you, continuing the soft melody as puts the tray on the nightstand next to your bed, once again leaning over you; but this time he takes the cover off of you slowly, giving a soft smile towards your face as he sees how peaceful you look. “he estado pensando en ti.” (i’ve been thinking about you.) in his head, he thinks it’s stupid, the fact that he’s confessing what’s he’s felt to your unconscious self.

maybe it’s just an subconscious choice he always had in him, but something special about itoshi sae was confessing his love to you when you couldn’t hear him. maybe because he didn’t want to be embarrassed, or it was much easier like this. nonetheless, he doesn’t mind showing you affection in moments like these when you really need him.

his eyes widen in surprise when you turn around with a smile on your face, slowly opening your eyes and propping yourself up on your elbows. “pienso en ti también.” you giggled, still feeling the hoarseness in your throat. a visible dust of red scatters across his cheeks as his eyes gaze away, still gently rubbing your hair as he encourages you to eat what he made you. “i love you, okay? now please eat instead of staying under those covers all day.” sae lightly smiles.

michael kaiser:

like sae, kaiser is also way too busy with matches during the neo egoist league, so he’s barely home. he’s up at dawn and comes back way after you’ve fallen asleep. he tries to text you every now and then, also checking on you when he comes home before he goes to sleep beside you. but perhaps he had gotten so busy that he forgot to check on you the past couple of days, and that’s when your fever erupted.

you and kaiser can both be a little.. silly at times. how does this come into your being sick? well one day when kaiser comes home, expecting to maybe see you passed out on the couch or being welcome by a dark home, he sees you lying flat on the floor. at first he laughs at you, thinking this must be some kind of dumb prank you wanted to pull on him, but once you start whimpering in pain, he’s immediately at your side.

“okay my love, why the hell are you on the ground and what’s going on?” he’s sitting in front of you, trying to put his arms under your shoulders as he lifts you up to sit in front of him. oh, it all hits kaiser like a truck once he realizes. how could he not? your face is red, eyes are swollen, and you can barely even sit up on your own. you probably would have collapsed right back into the same spot if it weren’t for him holding you up.

“everything… hurts..” you’re barely able to sigh out. your head falls down, and kaiser swears his heart is aching at the sight. he’s already lifting you up into his arms and taking you to your room, where he lets you lie down for a bit while he almost sprints into the washroom to start a bath for you. if anything, he wants you to be relaxed right now.

“michael..” your voice is hoarse as you call out to him, kind of in a daze as you try and get up. he comes back out, reassuring that he hasn’t left your side. “i’m right here, baby. started something for ya.” he puts your arm around his shoulder as he helps you walk a couple of steps to the bathroom.

kaiser only really bothers to take off your shirt because he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable having to take off everything. he helps you sit down in the tub, and he joins you as well, sitting right across from you. he made sure to put some nice smelling soap to help you relax while extending his arms to rub some on your face.

“why didn’t you tell me you were falling ill, liebe?” he questions, not really expecting you to answer because he knew you were tired. “mm? didn’t wanna worry you ‘cause you’ve been so busy..” you reply, keeping your eyes closed. “you know i would drop practice to take care of you, right?” he explains, and internally you were well aware of it. it just didn’t stop you from not wanting kaiser to worry about it. so you let out a little hum in acknowledgement.

“i know what you’re thinking, but too bad. i’m staying at home with you now until you’re all better again.” he retorts, and you know he’s being more than just serious when he says that. “mikka, really? you don’t have to.” you quietly murmur, moving your hands up from the water. “yeah, says the one who was face flat on the floor when i walked in. you almost gave me a heart attack!” you let out a tiny giggle from that, not really remembering how you got there. “my turn to take care of you.” kaiser finally says, holding your hand in his as he has plans to pamper you to the fullest.

itoshi rin:

it’s when rin walked into your shared apartment when he saw you sprawled out across the couch. clearly, you weren’t okay, so his eyebrows furrowed deeply seeing you in such a condition. he walked over to you, looming over your frail figure as a pained reflection fills his eyes.

“rin..? why are you standing over me like that..?” you asked in a shocked but still quiet voice. as you tried to push yourself up with your elbows, rin crouched down as he pushed you back onto the couch gently.

“y’know as much as i love you, and i’m saying this in the nicest context possible, but you look like shit.”

your eyes widen for a second, but then you start to let a laugh out until you’re profusely coughing, causing rin to pick you up and sit you in his lap facing him. “i’m gonna get you sick rin, let me get off..” you try and get away from him; you really do. but he’s just as, if not more stubborn than you are, keeping his hands firmly planted on your waist.

he puts his hand on your forehead, his eyes showcasing more worry than before. “quit jumping, you’re burning up a lot. when did this even start?” you glance away, not wanting to tell him the truth, but rin is quick to catch on to even the most subtle of moves. so he grabs your chin to turn you back to him, looking for an answer in you eyes.

"you better tell me." he warns, brushing your hair out of your face, softly caressing your cheek right after that, urging you to give him an honest answer. “seriously, what’s gotten into you…” you blush away at his affection. usually he doesn’t pry you this much for information, no matter what has happened. but the way his eyes gaze all over, you can tell he’s genuinely worried. rin would be terrified if something bad had happened to you.

“okay, just c’mere please.” you’re already quite close to him, but you know he means to let him envelop his arms around you as you both lie down on the couch again. however this time, he’s there to make sure you can sleep peacefully; with no distractions and that if something does happen or if there’s something you need, rin is able to do it for you.

so as soon as he hears your light little snores as you quietly shuffle in his arms to get comfortable, he slowly releases his grip from you and gives you more space on the couch. really, he does wish that he could just hold you in his arms forever, (not that he would voice that want out loud, ever.) but he wanted to help around the house and get you some medicine, food and set up stuff to raise your spirits.

getting the medicine is easy, plus rin learned how to cook at a young age. he just.. didn’t really know what to do to help you feel emotionally better about this whole sick thing. he’s thinking about while he stands over the stove, slowing zoning out trying to think of something. but as quick as he was to zone out, was snapped back into reality when he heard your very obvious, groggy voice calling out his name.

“rin.. what are you doing..? why’d you leave..?” he kind of panicked at that moment, he wanted anything but for you to wake up and see what he was doing. “just uh.. was making some food for you.” he curtly said, lowkey embarrassed that you saw him doing something so… romantic for you.

“aww, you’re so cu-” you really wanted to finish that sentence, too bad your cough beat you to it, knocking the air out of your lungs and you held onto the counter for dear life. of course, rin was right next to you in an instant, rubbing soft circles around your back, then getting you a glass of water as you calmed down. as you drank from the glass, taking a deep breath in, you couldn’t help but notice rin staring at you with a soft smile. “yeah, you are cute, even when you’re sick.”

isagi yoichi:

isagi like goes through an entire (kinda overdramatic) monologue in his head when you fall to the common cold. it’s hard to explain, but unlike sae and kaiser, isagi notices quick. he doesn’t like spending time away from you, so he mostly comes home on time. he honestly finds it really adorable when your always sitting on a chair near the entrance and waiting to welcome him home.

until one day that just.. doesn’t happen. he’s confused to say the least, but then when he sees you come out of your shared room, a small blanket wrapped around you as you sniffle, he realizes what’s going on. so he drops his stuff into he ground and quickly goes over to you go wrap you in a tight hug.

“welcome back..” you say while letting out a cough into his shoulder. “what happened, [name]?” isagi whispered in your ear, rubbing his hand over your hair as you both rocked back and forth from time to time. “i think i’m sick, ‘ichi… i woke up today and my stomach was hurting really bad..” you murmured back as a response.

“aw, poor baby, must have been bad while i was gone, yeah?” usually this would sound like some sort of mocking, but he does it because isagi feels the need to protect you, and he likes talking to you like that sometimes. he thinks you deserve the princess treatment and he’ll indulge you. you more than just like it, and you’ll become a lot more clingier once he starts to speak to you in that tone. (maybe that’s why he does it so often) 

isagi lifts you up, letting you cling onto him like a koala bear as he takes you to couch nearby, letting your blanket fall to the ground. “my blanket, yoichi..” you complain, losing the only source of body heat you had. “silly, i’m here now, i’ll give you what you need.” your face turns red at that, cause he’s just so sweet. “aww, she’s blushing. how cute.” you put a hand to his mouth to shut him up, not having the energy to talk.

he grabs your wrist to pull your hand away from his face, before giving it a little kiss and wrapping his arms around you again. he’ll stay close to you all he likes, isagi could care less about getting sick. if it means staying at home with you, right? “hurts here, right?” placing a hand on your stomach, he soothingly rubs small circles trying to ease the tension. “i hope this helps, even a little.. hm.. did you have medicine, cutie?” he asks, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck and leaning his head forward.

“mhm, was too lazy to get out of bed.” you answer, leaning into him at the feeling. it was much more relaxing than having to toss and turn in your bed. he lets you go for a second, sprints to the kitchen to find the medicine and runs back, almost tripping over the blanket you dropped earlier. “be careful, ‘ichi! if you’re gonna get hurt, who’s gonna take care of me?” you pout at him, clearly enjoying the time you’ve spent together since isagi’s come home.

he smiles at you because he just couldn’t help but think how adorable you are, even when you’re sick. he brings you into his arms again, lying down with you. “don’t worry, princess. i’ll stay here as long as you want to take care of you.” he presses a kiss against your forehead, letting you slowly drift off to sleep.



[rinstaro]

Tbh I don’t have an idea for this one kore, but smth horny asf with my bb time or even wild cause I’ve been having a bit of a rough time

hope ur well and thank you!!

-💫

of course, anything for you dear. this took so long!!!! sorry i’ve been so dead lately, life is tryna whoop my ass. i was playing botw and changed into the barbarian set and…… yeah. you know how it “bolsters links fighting spirit”? in my head it just makes him a lot more feral so it makes him horny too. i hope you like it! and i hope you feel better soon! i promise that these rough times will pass 🌟

cw: he’s a little mean, doggy, forest sex, reader is implied to be shorter than him, slight predator/prey dynamics, y’all are just messing around… or are you? reader has a vagina no pronouns, not proofread &lt;3

minors do not interact.

you played with wild’s stuff all the time. he didn’t mind so long as you didn’t hurt yourself. his swords, his bows, and especially his armor. no matter how many rupees he’d spend buying you whatever clothes you wanted, you were always fascinated with his instead.

his knights armor was heavy and sturdy. his climbing gear showed off his toned arms. his sheikah armor had you drooling.

the only set you hadn’t seen on him was the barbarian armor. you always wondered about the set. the headpiece was just a little scary, so you asked him what the armor was for when it covered so… little.

“it makes me a little more…. it’s easier to fight.”

he left it at that, but it made you curious. so it made him stronger, but you wanted to see that firsthand. you asked him if he’d put it on for you to which he shied away. “i don’t think you’d like it…”

you rolled your eyes, begging him to do it, just once. he eventually caved. when he did, you immediately realized why he was hesitant to show you his armor.

he looked fucking divine.

the way it exposed the best parts of him had you salivating. you circled him, trailing your gaze up and down his body. the tattoos that manifest on his torso and legs... you wanted to taste them for yourself. “i cannot believe you hid this from me,” you mumbled. you wrapped your arms around him, tracing his skin with your fingertips. you could hear his breath hitch as you teased him relentlessly.

suddenly he grabbed your wrists, looking at you with a hardened gaze.

“i’m not sure if we should… do that right now.”

you could tell wild was holding himself back, so you decided to kick it up a notch. you dropped to your knees in front of him, batting your eyelashes when he hisses. your hands trailed down to his thighs, nails scratching the skin ever so slightly. “come on, you don’t wanna have fun? at least let me– oh!”

the grip on your wrists tightened, and you were locked in place. your heated gaze met his, and you shuddered. he looked like he was about to eat you alive. wild’s nostrils flared as he stared down at you, seemingly trying to keep himself together. he slowly leaned down, eyes never leaving yours.

“sure, let’s have some fun.”

that’s how you ended up deep in the forest, heart racing and wild hot on your trail. this was harder than you thought, but it was definitely exciting. the deal he made you was simple. just a quick game of hide and seek.

“you get five minutes. if you win, you get your way. if i win, i get mine.”

you took off as soon as he uttered the word ‘run’, excited giggles ringing in his ears as he watched you. he waited til you were out of sight, and even gave you an extra minute. after counting, he started walking at a leisurely place in the direction you took off in, grinning to himself.

sure, this was a little unfair. you didn’t stand a chance against him without the set, let alone with it. but you didn’t need to know that. you wanted to have some fun, so he’ll entertain you. wild wondered how long you’d last when he finally got you under him.

you stopped to catch your breath, hands on your knees as you panted. surely this was far enough. you'd been running at full speed for a while, and you were sure at least 2 minutes had passed. you had to have gotten pretty far.

only moments later did you hear a loud “thud” from behind you. you spun around to be met with trees and shrubs, the silence making you uneasy. your eyes scanned the area only to find nothing. probably just some animal, right? even if it was, you weren’t gonna take the chance. you slowly backed away in the opposite direction of the noise, keeping an eye out for any movement.

when you turned back to run, you were met with the hard surface of someone’s chest. you groaned, rubbing your nose before your eyes widened at the sight of your boyfriend.

“i win, right?”

you opened your mouth to protest, quickly being cut off by him gripping your chin. his hold was gentle but the look in his eyes was anything but. “l-link?” he wore a twisted little grin, as if he’d just caught his first meal in days.

“so we’re doing this my way. i’ll still give you one choice. do you want it here, or do you want me to chase you back home?” your knees buckled at his words, your mind reeling. you couldn’t even begin to speak, sputtering out nothing but nonsense. wild huffed, grabbing your wrists and pinning you face first to the nearest tree. he pinned your arms on the side of you and spoke, “don’t move.” you nodded hastily.

“you know you look really cute when you run? it was hard not to take you right there. the wait was worth it, though,” he grinned. his fingers traced your spine, his hunger only growing as he watched you shiver.

wild placed a hand over your eyes and started trailing love bites down your neck. you whined. the bites felt hard enough to leave marks, yet you could still tell he was holding back. you pushed your ass back against him, trying to rile him up.

your boyfriend growled, suddenly biting down harshly on your neck. you whimpered loudly as your arms twitched with the need to move, which didn't go unnoticed.

"look at you, still trying to be a good pet. ah, its a little late though. you've already pushed me to my limit," he snarled, landing a smack to your ass. he watched the flesh jiggle, humming contentedly. without warning, your bottoms were ripped from you and thrown to the ground. the roles were now swapped, wild on his knees before you- well, behind you.

you felt him part your folds with his thumbs, watching your sex drip with arousal. you squealed at your sudden nudity, arms reaching back to grab him. he quickly put a stop to that, grabbing both wrists in one hand. "on the tree. don't interrupt me."

you obeyed his orders, bringing your arms back to yourself and placing them on the tree. once he was satisfied with your position, he gave no warning before licking a long stripe up your cunt. you moaned shakily, the pleasure between your legs making you tremble. wild hummed, tongue swiping across your clit at a rapid pace.

he ate you like a man starved, your position not allowing you any room to squirm. you moaned his name over and over, and it only seemed to make him more ravenous. a mix of spit and slick dripped down his chin while his nails dug into your thighs. he'd been waiting for this for far too long. "l-link, im gonna- keep going, please!"

your boyfriend wasn't listening to your whines, tongue fucking you until your eyes crossed. he was doing this for him.

only a couple moments later did you gush all over his face, legs shaking in his grasp. wild didn't stop even when you whimpered for him to slow down. he made sure you were licked clean before pulling away from your cunt.

"b-babe what- oh!"

you weren't sure when he undid his belt, but you felt the head of his cock push against your folds.

"you always taste fucking amazing. be sure to give me another taste later," he whispered in your ear. his buttercup blonde hair tickled your shoulder as he leaned over you. "that wasn't loud enough for me, though. maybe i just need to be a little rougher, then you'll scream for me right?"

without another word, he pushed his cock into your cunt making your eyes roll back into your head. it took no time for you to adjust to his size, and he took no time in starting up a mean pace. the sound of his hips slamming into yours rang in your ears, every pleasurable thrusts making your head spin. one hand left your hips to grab your hair, tugging slightly. you winced, the pain sending heat right to your cunt.

"oh, you like that? squeezing me so hard— so cute, baby, thinking you could beat me," he groaned. you could only respond with loud moans, your brain turned to mush. "sound so pretty, gonna cum?" you nodded frantically in response, begging for him to keep going. he watched your cunt suck him in, your ass jiggling with every mean thrust.

"p-please, feels good!" your words slurred together, drool beginning to drip from your chin. it was too much and yet you wanted more. he was hitting your g spot with every thrust, his balls slapped against your clit, and you couldn't imagine a better way for this game of yours to end. you heard him snarl before he picked up his pace.

"f-fuck! 'm my god yes!" a few more thrusts and you were spasming in between him and the tree. wild stopped his movements, relishing in the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him. he chucked to himself as he watched you writhe. he suddenly frowned, realizing he hadn't been able to see your face when you came. oh, well. he'll just make you cum again.

wild pulled out, turning you around and staring you in the eyes. he then watched as your chest rose and fell, mouth hung open as you tried to catch your breath. the ferocity that was temporarily sated was now rising again.

you yelped in surprise when he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. your back rested against the tree as you furrowed your brows in confusion. "b-babe?"

"you're so gorgeous. how many times do you think i could fuck you til your legs gave out?" he questioned casually, a dark smile on his face. your legs clenched against him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders while he held you up by your thighs. you swallowed thickly, unable to answer. "hm? three? four? or more than that? well, i guess we'll see..."

wild never broke eye contact as he slipped his cock back into you, not even giving you a moment before fucking you at a savage pace. your back arched against the tree as you squirmed in his grasp. he pounded himself deeper into your cunt, his growls getting louder and your vision beginning to turn white. he was too much, fucking you so mercilessly and yet you couldn't bring yourself to want to stop. is this what he meant? he thought you wouldn't like this?

"l-link!"

"hm?" he answered, never faltering in his pace.

"harder!" your boyfriend's eyes widened slightly in surprise before he huffed in disbelief. you just continued to surprise him. he adjusted his grip on your thighs, leaning in so that you two were nose to nose.

"i've always wanted to see how much you could take."

[elllisaaa]

loved the bf!beomgyu!!! <3 could you perhaps do bf!taehyun as well? :)

the bf!txt agenda is not doing any good for my delulu hours but here we go !!

BF!TAEHYUN who is not the most talkative, but that is the most caring and observant boyfriend ever.

for example, he knows exactly what your coffee order is, he knows what your favourite snacks are, and he knows which song from your long ass playlist on spotify is your favourite. and these are things you don't even have to tell him, just because he always has an eye on you, and because he wants you to feel like a princess. and that's how taehyun makes you feel everyday. whenever you need something, bet he would hand you his card so you can pay for it. and don't even think about paying something for yourself or the both of you when you two are going out. but that's just because he wants to treat you like the queen you are.

"oh and i left my card for you on the kitchen counter, since you're going out with your friends this afternoon. i know you will do some shopping so get yourself something nice for our date tonight angel."

even if you don't workout, taehyun will bring you to the gym with him. he doesn't need you to do anything else than be there for him. it's maybe not what some would call quality time, but it is for both of you, especially when his schedule is so packed. he steals some kisses between his sets, lets you vent to him about your annoying coworkers, and smiles everytime you take his towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. and yes, he also loves it when you gush over his muscles and how strong he is. he's often the one praising you, and when you compliment him, he always finds a way to turn it back and fluster you. so sometimes, you make it your life mission to make him blush instead. and he lets you do so because you have him wrapped around your finger.

"you're very pretty today angel." - "but you're prettier tae, the prettiest boy in the world." - "what did i do to deserve you ?"

you know that your boyfriend sometimes struggles to talk about his emotions and feelings, and you're always here for him no matter what. but when he finally opens up to you, he's never backing up. everytime he feels bad or tired we would've kept it to himself and stayed alone before. but now, after a long day at work, all he wants is to come back home to you and hold you close to him. sometimes he needs to tell you everything that happened, and sometimes he just needs you to soothe him into your embrace. either way, he feels the most at ease, the most loved when he's close to you. in the mornings after these nights, he wakes up before you to make you breakfast as a thank you, even if you insist that he doesn't need to and that it's your job as his girlfriend. but the princess treatment never ends with taehyun, and he will never take you for granted.

"just eat angel, i did it because i wanted to and because i love you."

BF!TAEHYUN who pays for everything just so he can literally ruin you for any other men when you come back home.

because the reason he let you borrow his card to pay for your hair, your nails and your clothes, has some ulterior motives. he loves it when you're all dolled up for him, when you take up so much time to look even better than usual for him. he especially loves it when you're wearing skirts or dresses, because it gives him an easier access for when he bends you over the couch and fucks you from behind. he loves it when your makeup runs down your face because you're crying from how good he's making you feel. taehyun loves it when your hair are all tangled and messy because he's tugging on them when you're sucking on his cock. and he loves it when he sees the scratching marks your brand new nails he payed for had left on his back.

"that's it princess, cry for me. feels good ? i know it does."

taehyun is always willing to give you everything you want in bed, as long as you're good for him and doing everything he's telling you to. one of his favourite ways to torture you a little is by edging you. you can choose how he's pleasing you - his mouth, fingers or cock, whatever you want, he'll give it to you - but you have to warn him every time you're close, and he'll stop. and when he finally lets you cum, he's telling how proud of you he is, how good you are for him, and how good he's gonna fuck you as a reward. and he does fucks you good, so good you're going dumb and can only whine and cry out for him.

"my good girl, i'm gonna take care of you, hm ? gonna reward my angel."

but when you're not following his orders, or when you decide to be a brat and act out, he has no other choice but to discipline you, right ? his go to punishment is to bend you over his lap and spank you. taehyun makes you count each slap he gives you, finding it cute how red the skin of your ass gets with each new one. he loves it when you stumble over your words, moaning and crying out when he slaps your butt one more time. each time, you take your punishment so well he cannot do anything else than rewarding you with his cock, because after all, you're his princess and he just wants to give you the best. and obviously, he loves it when you're all cute and innocent, but the best moment is when you become nasty and desperate for him and he gets to lovingly degrade you.

"my pretty little slut, acting like a saint and whoring yourself out for my cock."

[celandeline]

If You Never Shoot, You Never Know

Carl Grimes X Reader, Part 1 [previous part | next part]

All you want to do is eat. 

You’re almost dead on your feet, exhausted after a day-long supply run with Daryl. For all your trouble, it had turned into a bit of a shitshow in the end, really, how were either of you supposed to know that there had been two dozen walkers in the basement? But you’re alive, and you’re back behind the walls of Alexandria, and Rick had seemed grateful for what supplies you had managed to scrounge up. So you feel entitled to treating yourself to grilled cheese. 

You relax back against the island of your kitchen as you flip on the stove, dropping some butter in your frying pan to begin to melt. The delicious smell of frying butter begins to fill the room, and you close your eyes, savoring the scent. God, you’re starving. 

A knock at your door interrupts the pleasant, buttery thoughts in your head, and you groan, trudging out of the kitchen. You already know who it is - no doubt the moment he saw you get home, he started over…

You whip open the door and lean against the frame, looking down at the boy on your porch. “What?”

Carl Grimes, with a bouquet of wildflowers clutched in his fist, smiles at you. “Brought you flowers.” He says, holding them out to you. 

He’s been doing this for months now. Purposefully volunteering for work that he knows you’re doing, making up any excuse to spend time at your house, going out of his way to bring you things - your favorite snacks, a ring with your favorite color stone in it, a shirt for a band that you like, now also flowers. It’s cute, this little crush he has on you. But turning him down is getting a little tedious. 

You sigh. “Carl, we’ve got to stop doing this.” Still, you hold your hand out for the flowers. 

“Dunno what you mean.” He says even though he definitely does. He hands you the bouquet. “Can I come in?”

You hesitate for a minute, examining the flowers he’d brought. All pretty, all in shades of your favorite color. “Your dad know where you are? Or is he gonna come busting down my door looking for you again?”

His cheeks redden as you reference the worst afternoon of both of your lives. “I told him.”

“Sure then.” You say, holding the door open so that he can slip inside. “‘M making dinner if you’re hungry. Grilled cheese.”

“If you don’t mind.” He says, wiping his boots on your rug before stepping inside. Always the gentleman. 

You look at him, exasperated. “When have I ever minded?” You ask, shutting the door and heading back into the kitchen, flowers in hand. 

“Just trying to be polite.” He says, following after you. 

You set the bouquet of flowers down on the island before turning back to your pan, dropping four slices of bread into the bubbling butter to begin frying. Carl makes himself comfortable on one of your barstools, watching as you pull a tall cracked glass out of one of your cabinets and fill it with water before dropping the flowers in. You set the makeshift vase in the center of the island with a smile. “Thanks.” You say. “They’re pretty.”

He grins. “They made me think of you.” He says. “Thought you might like them.”

You say nothing, ignoring how his little flirtatious comment makes you feel and instead focusing on the sandwiches. For a moment, the only sound in the kitchen is that of sizzling butter as you flip the slices of bread, until Carl speaks again. 

“How was your day?” He asks. 

“Alright.” You sigh. “Not as good as it could’ve been, but there’s always tomorrow. Now that Daryl and I know what we’re getting into, it should be easier to handle. And we can always bring more people with us.”

“I could come.” He offers immediately. 

You shake your head. “You’ve got your own jobs. Plus,” You joke. “I don’t need you distracting me while I’m trying to kick walker ass.”

He tilts his head, a little smirk at the corner of his lips. “Do I distract you?”

“You wish.” You say.

“I do.” He shoots back, unashamed. 

It’s annoying, how good he is at this. Makes it all the harder to keep reminding yourself why you can’t just give in to his advances. You’re three years older than him - which wouldn’t be a problem if he wasn’t freshly eighteen, but he is. And you’re already on Rick’s shit list when it comes to Carl - he’d almost throttled you when he found out Carl had asked you to sneak him some alcohol the next time you went on a run. He’d been furious, that day he was pounding on your door demanding to know where his son was - said he didn’t want him hanging around you, that you were ‘corrupting’ him. You can’t imagine what he’d do to you if you actually were to corrupt his boy, as he’d put it. 

“Carl.” You sigh, flipping the bread again, making sure all the sides are a delicious golden brown. 

“Sorry.” He says, not sounding sorry at all. “I know.”

And he does know - you’ve talked about it a lot, why this could never work. But the logic doesn’t seem to have deterred him at all. 

“You’ve gotta drop it.” You say, folding some slices of cheese into the bread, two fully formed sandwiches sliding around the buttery pan now. You have to swallow to stop your mouth from watering. 

“But you like it.” He says. 

You roll your eyes. 

“C’mon, you do.” He says, grinning as he gestures to the bouquet on display. “You would’ve actually told me to fuck off if you didn’t.” His icy blue eyes find yours. “If you tell me to fuck off, I will, you know that.”

You do know. But selfishly, you don’t want to tell him to go, even though you should. It’s silly to keep doing this when Rick will never ever let it happen, but he’s wormed his way into your affections. You like him. He’s sweet, and funny, and a great shot, and has the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. And you like that he likes you, for whatever reason. 

You scoop the sandwiches out of the pan and onto a plate before flipping the stove off. Coming around the island, you slide onto the barstool next to him, placing the plate between the two of you. You don’t bother waiting for him before you grab one for yourself, digging in. You swallow with a satisfied sigh. “God, I was starving.”

Carl bites into his own sandwich with a smile. “Thanks.” He says around a mouthful. “‘S good.”

“Welcome.” You say around another mouthful.

The kitchen is largely silent as you and Carl eat, until there’s nothing but crumbs left on the plate. Your stomach no longer threatening to start devouring your insides, you sink into the barstool, the exhaustion from your run finally catching up to you. You sigh, contentedly, and Carl smiles.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asks, his voice taking on that nervous tone that means he’s going to ask some mushy romantic stuff. 

Even though you shouldn’t keep entertaining this, you say, “Sure.”

His gaze set on the marble countertop, he idly rolls a crumb between two fingers, contemplative. “If my dad wasn’t in the equation, would you let me date you?” His eyes shift under his hat, glancing quickly over to you. 

You should say no, even if it’s not the truth. If Rick wasn’t part of the equation - or even if you were in his good graces - you’d let Carl date you. Of course you would. But that’s not how things are - as is, Rick would mount your head on a spike. You should say no. But when those icy blue eyes are boring into your soul, it’s hard to be dishonest. “Yeah.” You say, playing it off with a shrug. “Seems like the only way to get you to stop pestering me with flowers and whatnot.”

Carl grins, the kind of smile that only comes from getting exactly what you want. “Follow up question,” He starts, grin turning mischievous. “If we just didn’t tell my dad anything, would you-”

“Absolutely not, no.” You laugh. “You want to fool around in secret? That would make everything a thousand times worse, what are you thinking? If Rick ever found out-”

Carl turns in his seat to face you, sliding a hand across the marble countertop to interlace his fingers with yours. “Please.” He says. “You already said that if getting in trouble with my dad wasn’t a problem you’d be okay with us being a thing. If he never finds out, what’s the problem?”

You shove down the feeling that shoots through you when he laces his fingers together with yours. “I’m still older than you. You’re barely an adult, I mean, have you ever even had a girlfriend before?”

His cheeks redden. “No.”

“I can’t be the first. I can’t set the standard for all of your relationships after this one. You should date someone your own age, I’m sure there’s plenty of girls around here that have crushes on you-”

“I don’t want to date someone my own age.” Carl says. “The people my age here have been sheltered in Alexandria almost their whole lives. They don’t know what it’s like outside these walls. Talking to them feels like talking to middle schoolers.” He squeezes your hand. “But you know what it’s like out there, you’re out there with the groups going on supply runs all the time. You know how to defend yourself, and you’re not afraid of the walkers. I can actually talk to you about that stuff. And if anything were to ever happen, if walkers were to get in the walls again, I know you’d be able to take care of yourself.”

The way he looks at you with such admiration makes your heart do a funny flip in your chest. “You make this very hard, you know.” You tease, trying to ignore the urge to kiss him. 

“It doesn’t have to be.” He says. “I don’t care that my dad thinks you’re a bad influence, and I don’t care that you’re older than me. I like you because you’re strong, and you’re pretty, and you’re the funniest person I know. It shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

You tilt your head and sigh, squeezing his hand back. “You’re right. It shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks.” You say. “But unfortunately it does. Your dad calls the shots around here, and it’s bad enough that he already doesn’t like me. I don’t want to make it worse.”

“What if I talk to him?” Carl asks. “It’s not really your fault that he doesn’t like you, I’m the one who asked you to sneak me alcohol, I could explain-”

“It’s already a done deal.” You say. “And I don’t blame Rick for being pissed with me for that, I should have had the wherewithal to tell you no.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad you didn’t.” He says. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” You say. Your gaze shifts to the window above the sink, the orange sun sinking below the horizon outside. “You should probably go home. It’s getting dark.”

Carl’s gaze follows yours, and he sighs. “Probably should.” He agrees sullenly. Slowly, he rises from his seat. “Thanks for the grilled cheese. And for talking to me.”

“You know you’re welcome anytime.” You say, standing up from your seat as well, despite your protesting muscles. 

You walk him to the door, holding it open as he steps out onto the porch. He turns back to look at you, that mischievous glint in his eye again. “Can I do something?” He asks, voice low. 

“Do what?” You shoot back, skeptical. 

He doesn’t answer, instead just stepping closer to you, his eye darting down to your lips for a second before meeting your gaze again. He approaches slow, giving you plenty of time to back away if you want to, but you don’t even though you should. The image of Rick standing on his porch across the street flares in your mind, but you still don’t pull away, and let Carl’s lips meet yours in a tender embrace. 

This kiss only lasts for a short moment before he’s pulling back, grinning like the cat who got the cream. “G’night.” He says.

“Night.” You return, stepping back through the threshold of your doorway before you do something stupid like kiss him again. You watch him retreat down your porch steps, catching the last grin he throws over his shoulder before he darts across the street, back home. 

Closing your door, you sigh hopelessly into the silence of your home. He’s going to be the death of you, one way or another.

[saintship]

i see a lot of ghost coming home to reader after a long mission but what about nurse!reader coming home to ghost after an exhausting shift at the hospital they work at? thank you 💓

CUTE

I tried a bit of characterization here; I believe he would do this in a way that seems blunt but is really very meaningful and premeditated. He’s more comfortable with acts of service than nearly any other showcase of vulnerability.

It’s a Given - Ghost x gn!reader

Simon wasn’t big on phone calls; the only reason you picked up the phone in the middle of your shift.

“Hey. Y’Alright?”

“Yeah, is everything okay?”

“Im just fine. Wanted to make sure you hadn’t collapsed.”

“Well, don’t hold your breath..” you shift your weight, the soreness in your feet and legs aching.

“You’re sweet, but I’m in the middle of a shift.” You speak gently. It pains you to discourage him from calling, but even now, the other residents were staring.

“Right, right, sorry. I’ll see you when you get home?”

“That’s right. I love you, Si.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

“We need an ABG on a combatant child in 106.” A doctor approached you, handing you the child’s chart.

“On it, thank you.”

Aside from that eight year old girl nearly smacking the needle out of your hand, your shift was more of a drag than stressful. Until, of course, 20 minutes before it ended. Four rapid responses, a code blue, and a violent patient escaping into the lobby, all after another. After those 20 minutes became an hour, you finally caught a gap to leave. You were lucky your car had given out in the garage that morning; if you’d tried to drive instead of taking the bus, you’d be back in that hospital right now.

The sight of your apartment door was almost enough to make you cry. It opened before you could reach for your key, Simon greeting you in sweatpants and a white T shirt. His casual wear along with his mussed hair pulled a smile over your tired features.

“Hi..”

“Hey. Come in, you look like you’ll faint.”

You took his outstretched hand and let him unlace and tug off your boots after shutting the door with his foot.

“I’ve got some dinner for you for after you shower.”

He rose to take your hands again as you rested your back on the wall.

“Thank you..”

“Course.”

Each time he did things like this, took care of you, he always seemed a twinge surprised when you thanked him. As if it was a given; you had a long shift, so he’d look after you. Simple as that.

“Towel’s in there with some clothes.” He nodded with his head to the bathroom.

Since a thank you seemed to pass over him, instead you leaned up and kissed the bridge of his nose gently, right over the scar there, before pressing a proper one to his lips. His hand cradled your head like clockwork, like the both of you were falling into place.

You heard the beeps of the microwave from the bathroom as you rid yourself of your scrubs. The clothes he’d picked included a shirt of his, which made you smile. It was an SAS issued long sleeve from his early days, but still comfortable on you. The hot water washed away the sweat that prickled the back of your neck, the smell of your body wash soothing your senses after hours of a sterile environment.

You wandered into the kitchen still towel drying your hair, unable to resist being near Simon when you finally had the chance again.

“I forgot you still had this.” You tug at the shirt, a warm light in your eye.

“I don’t wear it, but you do. So I keep it.”

He handed you a leftover portion of the recipe you’d both made together the previous night, entirely distracting each other from what was a simple instruction list.

You lean against the counter to eat, Simon wandering behind you to hug your waist.

“I really do appreciate it..you make it easier. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably just pass out in my scrubs and wake up feeling worse.”

“I know.” he replies gently. Knowingly. “But I won’t let that happen.”

He sets your empty dish in the sink, guiding you by hand to the bathroom to join you in brushing your teeth. You’d told him once it was easier to do something hard when he was doing it too, and you’d never had to repeat yourself. He also had a habit of ‘making sure his breath was clean’ by kissing you, which never failed to make you smile. He could be such a dork, and it made your chest hurt with affection.

“You still want to read, or are you too tired?” He asked softly, guiding you to bed.

“I can listen for a bit. I really like when you read.” You reply, settling under the sheets. He stood at his nightstand drawer, sifting through it. “Which one tonight, doc?”

You huff at the nickname, though smiling a bit.

“Pride and Prejudice.”

“Y’go soft when you’re tired, eh?”

“Shut up.”

He grinned, and the sight of it could fuel you for a week’s worth of shifts.

“Alright..” He settled in beside you, lifting one arm to drape over top of you. Your head rested at the soft bit of his hip, toying with the woven bracelet on his unoccupied hand.

“‘No,’ said Darcy.” Simon began. “‘I have a made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding..’”

When Simon glanced over at you, you were asleep. He set down the book soundlessly, his heart swelling at the way you held onto his forearm in your sleep, and eventually dozed off himself.

It felt like a given.

[ryiju-muunie]

Red Wine and Macarons

Fem!reader/Kento Nanami Warnings: drinking, fluff, humor, Nanami is angy, Kento Nanami also wears glasses in this :P, kissing in the moonlight Word count: 1870 words DESC: You have the nerve to ask Nanami to split the bill at a fancy restaurant

This is completely inspired by Trintheweirdo's TikTok video!! I'm just taking this now it's mine :3 Check my pinned masterlist for more!

“Please, help yourself to whatever you’d like from the menu. It’s on me,” a voice you had grown familiar with rang in your ear, as the blonde man motioned to the fancy menu before you. 

Kento was dressed practically like a god, with his golden hair slicked back with some gel, and his suit perfectly pressed. It was different than the tan and blue one he always opted to wear. Instead, it was all black, no tie, and the undershirt was slightly unbuttoned down to reveal some of his neck. 

You weren’t anything to sneeze at either. He had insisted on you wearing a dress he had bought you a week earlier, a teal color with a lower neckline. The style was something you always enjoyed and he knew that, probably the reason for buying it. 

And while you loved all of it, the fancy restaurants and the expensive clothing… you felt bad. I mean, Kento, an amazing guy, spending a lot of money every time you spend time together? You felt like you should uphold your end and pay for something. But every time you tried, the taller man would swoop in and pay for it himself.

Did he feel bad? Did he feel like you could not pay for anything yourself? You two met at a publishing convention for either of your companies before they merged. If Kento asked you would tell him exactly what your position was, but he never did and he never revealed his position. However, doing some digging on your own, you found he was lower down in the company than you. You!! The one he was willing to pay for every single date made more than him!

That made you feel bad. So as you got dressed and did your hair in the mirror you told yourself you were going to split the bill this time, then when he wasn’t looking you’d fully pay for it and surprise him! From all the shock his head would be swimming and it would be the perfect romantic moment! Then maybe… you’d lean in and kiss him. 

This would mark your sixth date and you haven’t even held hands! So you were jumping the gun a bit and going in to kiss. But you had it all planned out! Nothing could go wrong! Nothing!!

You smiled at Kento’s words and picked up your menu, “Kento, I was thinking…” You trailed off, eyeing the menu. God those sweets looked delectable… oh but you had to eat real food first. 

“Hm?” He looked up, pushing his aviators forward on the bridge of his nose. When Kento was interested in what you had to say his brows would furrow together and his lips drew into a line. He wanted to be completely present for you and it made your stomach spin.

“Why don’t we split the bill?” Then when he wasn’t looking you’d pay for the whole thing and surprise him! You couldn’t wait to see him nod and… and…

Then Kento’s face hardened. It was the exact opposite of what you expected. His eyes narrowed and he looked away for a moment, seething with … rage? Whu-oh. Your expression fell a little bit as you tried to figure out exactly what he was thinking. Was he offended? Was he upset because you insinuated you could pay for yourself and you didn’t need him?

You weren’t trying to be rude! Well, you hoped you weren’t being rude at least. 

“Do you think that low of me that I wouldn’t want to spoil a woman such as yourself?” Kento finally spoke, taking off his glasses by gripping the part in the middle. Then he folded them neatly and set them on the white tablecloth.

“I… just thought it would make it a little easier on you. You know, always paying for the both of us,” you attempted to plead your case, but, god, you sort of wished you never opened your mouth to begin with. 

He blinked a few times, “If I want to date a pretty girl, I am going to pay for her to have a luxurious experience.” he paused and reached for his glass filled with red wine and took a long sip- all the while maintaining eye contact, “I would never make someone like you lift a finger if it were up to me. In a perfect world, I would keep you in a high tower to ensure you’d never get hurt. I would…” And my god did he keep going. 

You had no idea Kento had any … real … feelings at all. Sure he held the door open for you and complimented your hair that one time, but he was never very affectionate. Only going on six dates you thought maybe you would get some romance organically, definitely not in a rage-induced love rant. 

You had never seen him this mad before, even going as far as to motion his hands in the air to visualize his frustration at the fact that he could not pay for you. He never expressed himself explicitly. Was… was that his way of showing how he cared? Was that Kento’s way of showing he did like you? Every time he insisted on paying, picking you up, or buying you a dress, was that how he said … I like you?

Without saying anything, you found yourself getting up and grabbing your jacket. The blonde hadn’t seemed to notice, still in his rant about how if life was different he would have servants catering to your every whim. Which, cute, but not what you needed to focus on at the moment. 

“Kento,” you walked around the side of the table and put a hand over the top of his own, causing him to blink a few times. He looked up at you, with anger dissipating, “C’mon.”

You tugged at his hand a few times and he narrowed his eyes, “But my reservation…” He trailed off, looking down at his empty plate then back to you, “Fine,” with that he stood up and grabbed his glasses, placing them back on his head. 

This was the first time you two had interlocked hands. At first, it was to get his attention, but Kento realized you weren’t letting go. He switched his hand to grasp your fingers with his own, interlocking them and such. A warm feeling spread in your chest and made your heart thump even more than it was. Then he let you lead him outside of the restaurant. It was a miracle he was even obliged to leave and cancel this reservation at the last minute. 

He must’ve realized that you had something in mind. Maybe he saw that his rant touched your heart and you wanted to talk to him privately about it. Well, that was half true. You wanted to talk but you had something else in mind. 

“Where exactly are we going?” He asked after a moment of walking in silence on the sidewalk, past a busy road. The time of night was perfect for a walk, with the way the wind blew past the two of you and how the stars illuminated the walkway. It was … romantic. 

“I really like that you want to buy things for me,” you gave him a cheeky glance, “but I want to buy things for you. If there was a perfect world, I’d want to hide you up in a tower and make sure servants waited on you hand and foot too, silly,” you explained, giving his hand a bit of a squeeze. 

You did hope that Kento didn’t think you liked him because of the fancy stuff. If you two just went to sit and get coffee, you wouldn’t mind. You’d love it. Just the chance to see him in a casual environment would be nice, but realistically seeing him anytime was great. You wanted to show Kento you wanted to give him the same treatment he gave you, as a surprise or even just… plainly. You wanted him to feel as appreciated as you did, because now you knew just how much he appreciated you.

The blonde man slowed his walking pace down until he was completely stopped, staring at you with an unwavering expression. It was hard to tell if he was overjoyed or getting ready to break up with you. It was strange how he looked at you. Was it full of passion? Or was it full of… something else?

“Kento…?” You began with an unsure tone, returning his eye contact warily. 

He didn’t speak but he did break the distance between you two, pulling you into … a tight embrace. It wasn’t exactly what you expected but you couldn’t complain. His warmth and his scent drove you in and made you melt into his arms. You didn’t even know he had it in him to be this intimate, especially in public. 

“You… can buy me a macaron and we’ll be even,” he murmured into your ear. 

With that, you pulled back and frowned, “Just a macaron? Why can’t I buy you a suit? Or-or like a fancy meal?” You raised a curious eyebrow. 

Kento looked down at your face, placing one hand on your left cheek to brush away some hair with his finger, “What if I want you to buy me a macaron? I don’t need things from you to know you enjoy my company, but I want to spoil you so you have undeniable proof I … like you.”

You were going to speak, to pour your heart out, but something else overtook you. You didn’t know if this would be the last time you’d be this close to him, or under the stars like this. So without any more hesitation, you leaned in and pressed your lips delicately onto his. Kento made a faint and startled noise before quickly reciprocating, pulling you closer to his body. His arms wrapped firmly and tightly around your frame until you were sure you’d burst. 

The kiss was G-rated, nothing crazy, but god was it amazing. It felt as if your mouths were made for each other. With each crevice and gap molding together to form one person. 

His logic was a bit flawed and you both knew it. But you didn’t care. If all he needed to be even with you was a French pastry then you would go out and find all the French pastries you could. Just to show you cared about him as much as he did for you, even though you came to find out he already knew that. And you knew now that he didn’t feel pressured to buy you things or spend his money on you. He wanted to. 

Kento Nanami wanted to spend every dime he had on you, and of course, you wouldn’t let him, but you were flattered nonetheless. 

After a few moments of passionate kissing and embracing, you pulled back again to stare up at him, “I can get you that… um…” Your cheeks reddened as you looked him in the eyes, with his own stare being unwavering and intense.

“Macaron?” He tilted his head to the side. 

“Yeah. And we’ll be even.”

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Part 4

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1300

A/N: Reader is female but no physical descriptors are used.

A/N2: This takes place at the same time as Dream Come True - Part 3.

Warnings: Talk of purposefully not eating enough. Let me know if I missed any!

Part 3 -- Part 5

Series Masterlist

After the party was officially over and the last guest had left, Steve pulled you in for a deep kiss. “Thank you for staying with me tonight,” he breathes. “Couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

“Yes, you would have,” you croon. 

“Nope,” he counters, holding you close to him. “I definitely wouldn’t have been able to keep my calm without you on my arm. Would’ve thrown everyone out in a huff at the end of the scheduled time instead of letting them linger as an excuse to keep you with me.”

“Ah, I was wondering why you let so many stragglers stick around,” you smile at him. “Anything to spend more time with me, huh?”

“We can spend a lot more time together. Tonight. If you want,” he smirks.

“As much fun as that would be,” you tease, “I want to have an actual date or two first.”

“I can respect that. What would you like? A night on the town? A night at the gallery? A fancy, incredibly exclusive restaurant?”

You smirk, “I want to see you in something other than a suit.” He blinks in surprise and you continue, “do you even have any casual wear? When was the last time you were able to just have a night in and not have to dress fancy?”

His cheeks turn a little pink at that, “it…it really has been a long time.”

“I figured. So, for our first date, you’re coming to my apartment, wearing something casual, and we’re going to stay in and watch movies. How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect,” he coos as he pulls you in for another kiss.

Steve stood, hands on his hips, staring at his closet for the better part of an hour. Your date is tonight and he’s realized he might be lacking in terms of “something casual”. He’s had to wear suits for so many years that it just became easier to wear them every day, especially if he had an emergency meeting come up. His closet was completely dominated by professional clothes with no denim, khakis or t-shirts in sight. 

Sam and Bucky weren’t being helpful, either. “Seriously, Steve, you know she’s into you,” Sam exclaims. “Stop worrying so much about it.” 

“Just don’t wear a jacket and keep the top couple of buttons undone,” Bucky added. “It’s not quite casual but it’s probably as close as you’re gonna get.”

“How about some of your workout clothes,” Sam asks. “They’re all clean, right?”

“Sweatpants might be a little too casual,” Bucky retorts. 

“Fair, fair,” Sam concedes. “But the shirts could work.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nods. “One of those shirts, not tucked in, and no jacket. That’s pretty casual. Especially for Steve.”

Steve lets out an exasperated sigh and follows their advice. He also makes a mental note to figure out something less formal from his tailor.

When you open the door to your apartment Steve hands you a bouquet of purple petunias and violets. You bounce on your toes a little as you take them from him and gesture for him to come inside. He’s immediately hit by the delightful mix of smells coming from your kitchen. 

“I thought we were going to order delivery,” he comments.

You snort, “ordering out is for when I’m worn out and can’t bring myself to cook. I really enjoy cooking and everything that comes with it. Except for the dishes but thankfully I have a dishwasher.” 

Steve chuckles, “is there anything I can do to help out?”

“Yes, actually. I need a taste tester!” You giggle as you pull him into the kitchen. You set the flowers in a vase and turn back to your cooking. “And thanks for wearing a t-shirt,” you comment. “Now I don’t have to be so scared about accidentally spilling some food and staining your very expensive clothing.”

“That’s why you wanted me in casual wear? If any shirt got stained I’d have just gotten a new one,” he argues.

“Or,” you counter, “you could just have an outfit that’s okay to relax and not a big deal if you get food, makeup or whatever on it.”

He raises an eyebrow, “are you thinking of getting some of your makeup on my shirts?” Heat rushes to your cheeks and you stumble over your words, trying to think of a reply. Instead you dip a spoon into the sauce and ask him to taste test it. He grins wickedly at your deflection but obliges. 

“Mmmmmm,” is his immediate response. “That tastes really good! A nice bit of heat with it, too. What is it?”

“It’s the sauce for some tinga de pollo,” you reply. “So not too much cumin or too little garlic?”

“Not at all,” he affirms. “It’s damn delicious!” 

You squeak in delight and turn back to the stove. You turn off the burners and start dishing up the rice and chicken. “If you need some more heat for it, let me know,” you tell Steve as you hand him his plate. “In the meantime, let’s watch a movie. Do you have any preferences?”

“Umm,” he ponders. “Just no True Crime stuff?”

“Okay! We’re watching Labyrinth, then.”

“A Muppet movie?”

“A great Muppet movie, thank you.”

Steve smiles as you both sit on the couch and you sidle up to him. The food really is delicious and you were nice enough to dish out large portions. Definitely better than a fancy restaurant that serves mostly empty plates. It makes him think about his early career when he was finally able to afford to eat his fill. People were amazed at how quickly he was able to bulk up once he was finally getting enough food. But he had to stop eating his fill in favor of manners and societal obligations. He’s so caught up in enjoying the food he doesn’t realize how fast he’s eaten it until he accidentally brings an empty fork to his mouth. 

“Thank you for the compliment,” you smirk. He blushes and tries to apologize for eating so fast but you cut him off. “Sincerely, Steve,” you comfort him, “I’m glad you enjoyed the food. Would you like some more?”

“Yes, please,” he looks at you so appreciatively you give him a small kiss on the cheek as you grab his plate. He tries to grab his plate back but you put a hand on his chest, to keep him seated. “I can get my own food,” he argues. “You should sit and keep eating.”

“Hmm…” you ponder, enjoying the feel of his chest under your hand. “Okay. But promise me you’ll leave room for dessert.”

“I promise,” he smiles and you hand him his plate back. He comes back from the kitchen with his plate entirely covered with food. You raise an eyebrow and he looks right at you as he starts eating. Figuring he knows what he’s doing you settle in again and get back to the movie. 

When you’re done eating you set your plate on the coffee table and snuggle up against Steve, resting your head on his shoulder. He freezes for a moment but finds himself relaxing into you. When he finishes his plate he sets it aside and wraps his arm around you. Hugging his massive bicep you sidle closer to him until you’re almost sitting on his leg and rest your head on his chest. He gently moves you so that your legs are sitting on his lap and leans his head against yours.

Between the weight of his arm, his body heat and the steady rhythm of his heart you find yourself falling asleep. You try to fight it but then you hear Steve’s gentle snores. Carefully, so as not to wake him, you glance up and smile at his handsome face, more relaxed than you’ve ever seen. You decide to go with it and let yourself fall asleep feeling safe and warm in his arms.

Part 3 -- Part 5

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

i'm not trying to replace you (only hold on to your memory)

@summer-of-bad-batch bonus prompt "Can you braid my hair?"

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Hunter, Omega, Tech (mentioned) Set after the finale when everyone is living happily on Pabu Word Count: ~1950 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Omega misses the quiet rituals that had been hers and Tech's alone, and turns to Hunter for comfort.

Author's Note:- You all know @kybercrystals94, right? The brilliant mastermind behind the Summer of Bad Batch event? Detail Work is one of Kyber's earliest fics, and one of my favourites. When the hair braiding prompt came up during voting for the event I immediately had an idea for a story that occupies the hollow space of Omega's loss, and leads perfectly into my fic Beach Days & Hair Braiding So go read Detail Work and show Kyber some love, and enjoy this slice of Hunter comforting Omega too! :)

“Hunter!”

The tone of Omega’s cry had Hunter on instant alert, head jerking up from his task stirring the dinner. Omega flew in through the door, running straight at him and into his chest, face buried in his apron.

“Woah,” he soothed, carefully laying the sauce-stained wooden spoon atop the pot and instead cupping one hand to the back of her head, smoothing her hair as he brought his other arm round her shoulders in an awkward embrace. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” came the muffled reply. It was the least-convincing lie he had heard since Wrecker claimed he wasn’t the one who had devoured the entire tray of delicately-prepared dainties Hunter had made specially for one of Echo and Crosshair’s visits.

“Nothing,” he echoed sceptically. He settled her more firmly in his embrace, dropping his head to press a soft kiss to the top of her hair. “Alright then. I guess if nothing is up, I’ll just hold you for no reason… ‘til you’re ready to talk?”

He let his voice lift the sentence into a question, and Omega’s answering nod bobbed against his chest. Hunter squeezed her tightly, pressing reassurance into her with both arms now as they stood in the quiet kitchen and listened to the pots bubble on the stove.

After a while Hunter began to hum a tuneless, absent-minded rhythm, the noise vibrating through his chest and to Omega. Her breathing was evening out now, although he could still feel the pressure of her hands bunched tightly in his shirt-front through the apron.

The apron had been a gift from Omega who had gotten tired of helping him wash the food-splatter stains out of his shirts when he first started learning to cook. Wrecker was much better at cooking than he was, and endlessly teased his brother about being unable to smell when his food was burned or over-seasoned despite his enhanced senses. But Hunter persevered, determined to prove himself capable as more than a weapon of war – to be able to provide for his family in more ways than simply defending them from danger.

“Need to stir this,” he cautioned, nudging the toes of his boots against Omega’s feet. Obediently she lifted them one at a time, standing onto his feet, and let him waddle-shuffle them round so he could face the cooker again, reaching out to retrieve the spoon and attend to the bubbling pot.

Hunter shifted his arm lower across her back, holding her close to him and away from the hot pans.

“Think I made too much,” he said conversationally. “Who shall we invite round for dinner to eat the excess tonight?”

“No-one,” mumbled Omega against his chest. Her hands finally relaxed their death-grip on his shirt, only to go round his middle instead. She turned her face to the side, cheek resting on his chest, and her words became easier to make out. “You can save the leftovers for another day. We should have a quiet night.”

Something was definitely up, but Hunter merely rested his chin on her head as he worked and hummed an agreement.

“Sure, kid. Whatever you want,” he promised.

When everything was cooked – at least, Hunter hoped it was properly cooked – he turned off the heat and carried Omega, still standing on his feet, in the same awkward waddle across the tiny kitchen to retrieve plates.

“Not as easy as when you were small,” he lamented with a smile, and that at last drew a giggle from Omega as she hopped down from his feet to help set the cutlery out.

Hunter’s gaze turned pensive as he watched her, though he quickly smoothed the expression into a smile when Omega glanced his way. She had grown so much in the months since they had settled on Pabu – finally, full-time, no half-commitments, settled down. For good.

She still bore the scars of her trauma from Tantiss, probably always would. Kriff, they all did. But each day that passed with more smiles than pain was a victory, and the longer they went without the shadow of the Empire darkening their lives, the more fully Omega relaxed.

Like she finally believed she might be safe.

Even then, she had the occasional day like this.

Plating up their meal and setting both dishes on the small table, Hunter sat opposite Omega. He cast one of his brief smiles her way, before turning his attention to his food.

“So what have you been up to today?” he asked, tone light and conversational; he wasn’t a sergeant asking for a debrief any more. Not to mention that the open question would let Omega tell him as much – or as little – as she was ready to.

“Me and the boys–” meaning the clones Mox, Stak and Deke, “spent the morning cleaning the bay from last night’s storm,” Omega told him, shovelling food into her mouth. At least she hadn’t lost her appetite. “There was loads of cool stuff washed up there. Oh!”

She paused, laying down her cutlery, and reached into her jacket.

A wan smile lit her face behind the hesitation in her eyes, but she looked straight at Hunter as she said, “I made this for you.”

She pulled forth a length of string, coiled and knotted, and threaded with a spiral shell at the bottom. The twine – old fisher-net rope, if Hunter judged it correctly – was pushed through a natural perforation near the top of the shell, and the whole thing still carried the salt-rich scent of the ocean.

“It’s a necklace,” Omega supplied, as though it needed the explanation.

Hunter reached out and took it from her, carefully turning the shell in his hands and admiring the gentle intricacy of the spiral and the soft iridescence as it caught the light. Then he looped the string over his head, letting the shell hang against his sternum, over his heart.

“I love it,” he told her with a genuine grin, continuing to hold the shell with his left hand as with his right he resumed eating. “Did you find anything else?”

“Some tarpaulin we can probably patch,” she said, “and… I think it’s part of the Marauder’s nav console?” And she produced a dented metal cylinder, the transparisteel cover cracked and broken.

Hunter nodded, inspecting the part. When the Marauder exploded – was destroyed – debris had scored the mountain-face of the island near the docks, and been scattered wide into the ocean. They were still finding pieces all this time later.

“We can probably repurpose it for something,” he said, setting it down to continue his meal. “What did you do with the rest of the day?”

“I was helping Phee rewire her ship–”

Omega’s words choked off and she stuffed a huge forkful of food into her mouth to cover it. Hunter had noticed though. He watched as Omega chewed, gaze downcast and eyes too-bright, and knew they were getting close to what had upset her.

“Something happen with Phee?” he asked carefully, nudging her ankle under the table to show his support.

“Not really,” said Omega with a head-shake, then abruptly, “Can you braid my hair?”

“What?”

Hunter blinked, nonplussed at the sudden turn in conversation and Omega’s demanding tone. She was staring at him with a hard, uncompromising line to her mouth, the corners just downturned, and with her brown eyes shining with near-tears she looked for all the world the same as his brothers had when they were stubborn cadets. Probably looked like he had, too.

“I, uh…” He glanced at her blonde hair, the lengths escaping her pony-tail tucked behind her ears. “I don’t know how,” he admitted, then gestured vaguely. “Why don’t you ask Lyana?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Omega’s expression closed off, her gaze dropping away from his once more.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, then pushed her plate away. “I’m finished. Gonna have an early night–”

“Now hang on a second–” Hunter stood with her, chair scraping on the floor as he stepped quickly to block her path. She wouldn’t look at him but she didn’t shrug him off as he rested a hand on her upper arm, rubbing soothingly. “Omega. Why do you want me to braid your hair?” he asked, making sure to put the gentle emphasis in the right place.

Omega sniffed, and at last those threatened tears beaded on her lashes, starting to track down her tanned cheeks.

“I miss Tech,” she whispered, voice wobbling a little through the tears she fought to swallow. “He used to braid my hair for me. I… I was hoping you would…”

She trailed off hopelessly, and with a sympathetic noise Hunter pulled her back into a hug, holding her close and swaying slightly.

Casting his mind back, he remembered coming back from supply runs to find Omega with a neat pair of braids in her still-short hair, tied carefully at the nape of her neck. He pressed his cheek tightly against her hair now, giving her ponytail a gentle flick.

“Tech did your hair?” he asked with a smile, surprised to find the thickness of grief in his throat as he spoke. “I always thought you did it yourself.”

Omega gave a laugh which was almost a sob. “I found some instructions on the holonet but I couldn’t get it right. Tech was… Tech was so good at detail work.” She was trembling in his arms, but this was good, that she was releasing the pressure of her grief instead of keeping it inside for fear of upsetting her brothers. “I was hoping… You might be able to…”

Hunter angled his head, pressing a fond kiss to her temple and holding her tightly. “Of course,” he murmured, voice holding a promise he didn’t know how to deliver, but Force help him he’d try. “I’d be honoured.”

She relaxed a little into his arms, a shudder of grief passing between them as he willed love into her. Eventually she pulled back, swiping at her tear-stained cheeks with her sleeve, but she was smiling.

“You’ll learn to do it then? Braid my hair?”

Hunter nodded fervently. “I’ll find someone to teach me.”

He reached up, stroking the stray ends of her hair that clung to her damp cheeks and brushing them back so he could see her face, blotchy and pink with crying. He took her cheeks in his hands, holding her face gently cupped as he smiled down at her. Letting a glimpse of his own sorrow leach past his usual mask, he breathed out a sigh.

“Can’t promise I’ll be as good at it as Tech,” he cautioned, playfully flipping the ends of her hair. “Your hair always looked lovely like that, Omega.” He smiled, keeping one hand cupped to her cheek. “He’d be so proud of how you’ve grown.”

Omega sniffed, but now she was smiling even if it was with an ache of sadness.

“I think I’m still going to have that early night,” she said, stepping back at last.

Hunter let his arms drop to his sides, a slow movement that ached with the reticence of releasing her, but that was his role in her life now. Learning to let her go. Still being here when she needed to run home to his arms.

“Sure thing, kid,” he said softly, offering her one last pat to the shoulder. “I’ll clean up out here.”

“Maybe… I could keep my door open?” suggested Omega. “So I can hear you?”

Hunter smiled and gave her a gentle push towards her room.

“Whatever you want,” he promised, and he meant it.

Whatever she wanted. Whatever she needed.

He would be there for her.

Time to learn to braid hair.

[chaos-and-ink]

Do you see the moon boys as autistic? And if so do you have any autistic headcanons for them? :)

YES. Okay, so a system cannot have a disorder the body doesn't. As ASD is a neurodevelopmental condition it affects how the brain is wired which means each alter would be autistic, they may just present differently. So this is how I think each of them present their autism.

STEVEN: Steven is the most obviously autistic alter. Because he didn't front often, his masking skills aren't very developed which means he displays a lot of classic symptoms and features such as:

Unusual body language, often holds his arms in odd ways, walks on his toes, keeps his elbows bent, doesn't make eye contact, displays 'raptor hands', etc.

Special Interest in Ancient Egypt. I mean he literally is learning Hieroglyphics and owns a literal library of books and knows everything about it. Infodumping brings him lots of joy.

Need for routine. Calling his mum every morning, feeding Gus, checking the tape, restraint, sand, etc. He wants things to be very particular and hates when anything changes.

Lack of social skills. Doesn't connect with others very well. Especially seen when he continues to talk to his coworkers when they don't want to talk to him. He doesn't recognize or respond to their tone or body language. He's also very hesitant and anxious in social settings. The only real friend he has until later into the series is Crawley and it's likely because the performer can't talk back or react to Steven. It's often easier to 'talk at people' instead of with them.

Strong moral code and very loyal to his beliefs and the need to be correct. Steven is very straight forward about his beliefs and wants to be on the right side of things. Hence him being vegan and the whole 'killing babies, you guys are just cool with that, yeah???' scene along with when he tells Donna the posters are incorrect and when he tells Dylan they should be selling figs not candy.

Stimming like flapping his hands, rocking, pacing, fidgeting and playing with things like Rubiks cubes.

MARC: Marc learned to mask very quickly in his house hold so he doesn't outwardly display many traits. Instead he experiences a lot of burn out, depression and anxiety due to trying to cover up his ASD symptoms. But he does still have a few that can't be masked like:

Flat tone and lack of facial expressions. Rarely smiles or shows emotions other than anger.

Blunt, often tactless or rude, and thinks very logical. he has a hard time understanding other peoples emotions and accommodating for them.

Special Interest in Tomb Busters, it was the main thing that brought him comfort. he'd watch it so often that he had the entire script memorized and would often forget to eat, sleep, or drink because he was busy fixating on it.

Doesn't connect with new people and doesn't show an interest in them. He doesn't feel a need to socialize.

Gets overwhelmed quickly which leads to melt downs, shut downs, and anger out bursts which caused him to be labeled with 'temper problems'

JAKE: We really don't know too much about Jake so I only noticed one thing really which was:

No interest in other people or social settings. He prefers to be by himself doing his own thing rather than in a group or socializing.