#how else do you package cheese

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

i have a question because i genuinely don't know if these cheese blocks are standard everywhere or if we're weird

#like whats the other option #already grated cheese in bags? #i guess? #or 'special cheese' like brie you get in small nice packages #how else do you package cheese #i just said blocks of cheese to someone once and they didn't know what i meant and it's haunted me #and i don't know if it's just weird wording #or like. it was a side comment so they weren't really paying attention #or if we're weird for having these #i should know this #i don't #i'd like to know #this is a genuine poll #i may be an idiot

[holdmytesseract]

Hi beautiful! I have a request!

Loki helping your through a high pain day! I have chronic pain and it would be great

Personal Painkiller

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Summary: When you have a high pain day, Loki knows exactly how to comfort you.

Warnings: chronic pain, fluff, liiiittle bit of thirst

Word Count: 1,6k

a/n: My friend... Again, I'm so sorry you have to go through this pain. 🥺 I hope that I get this story right and especially that you like it. 💚

Also, have this quite sexy black suit Loki gif.

Tags |: @lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @asgards-princess-of-mischief @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @lou12346789

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

You already felt it when your feet touched the carpeted floor of your bedroom... The dull ache in your left hip. Oh great, you thought. It's not enough that today is Monday and it's raining pitchforks outside, no... The osteoarthritis had to kick in, too.

You sighed and got up with a wince. After stretching your muscles a bit, you made your way to the bathroom - quietly, not to wake your boyfriend, who was sleeping peacefully on the left side of the bed; hands buried underneath his pillow and breath quiet and steady.

The way to the bathroom already turned out to be a challenge. You groaned softly as you sat down on the toilet; burying your face in your hands and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Today wasn't a good pain day.

It took you longer than usual to get dressed. Sure, it was a rainy Monday morning, six o'clock and you were without a doubt, tired - but the pain definitely didn't make it easier for you.

After getting through your morning routine, you had a few Lucky Charms for breakfast, packed in more pain killers in your bag than usual and then left the Avengers compound in order to get to work.

Working as a retail saleswoman was great, really. You loved your job. You loved the customer contact and everything else that came with it. Sure, it could get stressful from time to time, but you had a great boss and wonderful colleagues who made up for this.

You had early shift this week - meaning, a lot of groceries and other products the store was selling, which got through the arrival had to be checked and stowed away. That was, hands down, one of your favourite tasks - but not today. Today, it was rather torture. All the work your legs, back and hips had to do wasn't appreciated by your osteoarthritis. Normally, it wasn't a problem and you got along quite well, but when you had a high pain day it was awful - and this Monday was such a day...

So you went to ask one of your other colleagues - Benji, to switch. He understood, of course and was more than willing to let you cash, while he joined Alex. "Thanks, Ben." The blonde man smiled. "No probs. I hope you'll feel better, now that you can sit." "I hope so, too." "Fingers crossed!" Benji shouted while walking away.

"Hey, Y/N, you good?" Your shift buddy Alex asked, while ripping open another big package, which was filled to the brim with cheese. You shifted; trying to ease the pain by moving. "Not really..." Alex's brows furrowed, as she gave you a compassionate look. "High pain day?" "Yeps." You scrunched your nose as your hip told you that moving wasn't the solution either. "Like... Really high pain day. I feel like I can barely move." "Oh no... I'm sorry. Did you already take your pain meds?" You nodded. "Already took two..." "Oh fuck..."

You worked on for another ten minutes, but it just seems to get worse. Sure, the pain killers weren't probably kicking in yet, but nevertheless... It was not manageable. "Alex, do you mind if I try to switch with Benji? See if cashier likes my hip more?" Your buddy nodded. "Sure thing, Y/N/N. I hope it helps..." "Me too..."

Your colleagues good wishes unfortunately didn't work. The seating position was okay and welcomed for a little while; the pain ebbing away a bit, but after about and hour the dull ache came back full force.

So bad, that you weren't able to work any longer.

You smiled; trying to hide the pain. "Thanks."

Therefore, you spoke with your shift superintendent Diane and she sent you home. She knew of your illness and was very understanding and cooperative.

"Thanks, D. I promise I'm trying to go to work tomorrow. I know we have a lot of stuff to do and-" Your boss interrupted you immediately; lifting a hand. "Y/N... Please. You know I understand. Rest today, see if it is better again tomorrow and if yes, that's great and I'm happy to see you here - but if its not, don't worry. We'll make this a few days without you."

Diane smiled; gave you a nod and home you went.

The ride with the subway unfortunately made it worse. You had to stand, which stressed your legs and hips even more. It was honestly a blessing, when you saw the Avengers compound in distance. Almost there, almost there.

The moment the main door shut close behind you, you were utterly relieved. All you wanted to do, was curl up in bed now, with a nice cup of tea - and preferably sleep, so your brain didn't have to remember you every minute, that your hip was aching.

You slipped off your shoes and jacket, threw your keys on the little shelf beside the door and turned to walk the short hallway to the bathroom. But when you turned the corner, you collided with something firm, yet soft. You gasped - out of shock and pain.

"Darling?!" Two strong arms caught you from falling, so powerful was the impact. Loki. "Oh norns, apologies! Are you okay?" His concerned oceanic blue eyes wandered over your body; checking if the collision did any harm to you. But then his brows furrowed softly. "Why are you already back home?"

Only a few moments later, you felt the soft, comfy bedsheets of your bed underneath you. Loki gently let you down, before he worked on tucking you in. "B-But, sweetie, I-I'm still wearing my street wear." You mumbled in between sobs. The god just smiled at you lovingly, snapped his fingers and caused a green shimmer to run over your body; changing you into the most comfortable, fluffiest pyjamas you possessed.

At this question, you couldn't hold back your tears anymore. It was just a little bit too much. The pain, the frustration, that you had to quit work for today - everything.

"H-High pain day," was all you managed to say, before tears escaped the corners of your eyes. Loki reacted within seconds. He knew exactly what was going on and what he had to do. Without another word, he swept you gently off your feet and carried you bridal style towards your bedroom. That was at least what you anticipated, because your vision was blurry with tears. You clung to your boyfriend; wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your head against his black shirt covered chest.

Seconds later, you felt his soft lips press a lingering kiss against your forehead. "I'm so sorry your osteoarthritis is treating you bad again, my love. I'm going to take care of you." He whispered against your skin in a smooth, deep voice, which gave you the feeling of being utterly loved and protected.

"Tea, darling?" You nodded; trying to give him a smile. He knew exactly what you needed on such a day. "P-Please..." "Of course." He said; still smiling softly. "Did you already take some of your pain meds?" You gave him another nod. "Good girl." He leaned down to press another sweet, gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll be back in a few minutes, okay? Try to get comfortable and relax." "O-Okay."

While you tried to get as comfortable as somehow possible, Loki made you a cup of tea; returning with it only a few minutes later.

"There you go, my love." The god gave you the mug carefully and breathed another kiss on your forehead, "Thank you." before he started to unbutton his black shirt.

Loki was about to roll his black slacks down his legs, when you suddenly remembered something. As if struck by lightning, you quickly took a look at your alarm clock; standing on your bedside table. "Sweetie, don't you have a meeting in, um... Now? Go, get dressed again! You have to leave, unless you'll be late!"

You just took a sip of the tea, as you watched him undress with wide eyes. "U-Uh, sweetie, w-what are you doing?" A low chuckle rumbled through your boyfriend's chest. "What does is look like, angel?"

Blinking - and trying to not get lost in the delicate movements of his fingers undoing the little buttons, you watched how the fabric slipped off his shoulders; muscles bulging. "U-Um, I know, but..." You swallowed hard; taking another sip of the tea and almost burning yourself.

Your boyfriend only shook his head; smiling and kicked the suit trousers off his legs, before throwing them on the chair standing in the corner of the bedroom.

"B-But Steve hates it when you're missing out a team meeting..." He shrugged his shoulders, rounded the bed and slipped underneath the covers beside you. "So? You are way more important than Roger's unnecessary team meetings." "But-" "Ah.Ah. No buts, darling." Loki said; wrapping you up his arms; spooning you. "I'll stay with you. I want to help you as best as I can through this. Screw this meeting."

Your heart fluttered at his words. You couldn't help but to lean into his embrace; cuddling close. "Thank you, love." He nuzzled the crook of your neck; inhaling your scent. "No need to thank me. I am doing this, because I love you." Butterflies ran wild within your belly. "I love you, too."

The rest of the day was spent with cuddling, listening to the rain drum against the window panes and even more cuddling. He made you as much tea as you desired and even tried to ease the pain with his seidr - which really helped a bit.

In conclusion, Loki was the best, doting boyfriend you ever had.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki #loki x you #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Rose with pistachio from 300 followers prompt list..I'm a sucker for bad boy Law🤭🤭congrats on 300 followers🥳

I am so sorry I made Mean Law into Nice Law at the end :) he's just such a dream!

Pairing: Law x Afab!Reader

WC: 1600

Prompt: “you’re such a fucking asshole.” 

 

“Hey y/n, happy birthday!” Bepo’s fluffy, smiling figure towers above you as he hands you a wrapped gift and a handmade birthday card. 

“I hope you like what we got you! If you don’t, well… that sucks I guess.” Penguin comments from behind the jumpsuit clad polar bear. 

“You guys really didn’t have to do anything… I don’t even like my birthday! A beer or two would have been just fine!” You smiled shyly as your crew mates present you with your gift. You unwrap the package and find a new pink sweatshirt (one you had been eyeing back at the last island and never quite pulled the trigger) and a stained money pouch filled with 1,000 berries. 

“Wow…” You look down and can’t believe anyone would have ever done this for you. You had just joined the crew less than a year ago and had spent most of your time trying to hone your fighting skills, not making friends. “Th-thanks guys…” You eyes begin to well. “Hey, let’s start drinking! It’s a celebration, right?” 

Your crew mates cheered and the small group of you cracked open a few bottles of beer in the kitchen to celebrate. You all enjoyed a terribly made birthday cake and several more beers as you joked and laughed with your friends. The collar of your off-white jumpsuit was stained with amber liquid as the captain of the Polar Tang entered the room. You all briefly paused the festivities. 

“Hey captain why don’t you-“ You gesture towards the fridge. 

“hrrmmph.” Law pushes past you to grab a few tea bags and retreats back to his office. 

“Oh.” You stood by the counter, defeated. You had pined for your captain for so long, but he kept pushing you away. It hurt, but never enough to abandon the pirate life you loved with your crew. 

“Don’t read into it, y/n. He’s been working a lot lately.” Shachi patted your shoulder. 

“Yeah… you’re right.” You sighed and finished your beer. “Thanks guys, but I think I’m going to bed. Thanks for the great birthday.” You faked a smile and headed to your room to wash up and go to sleep. You held back tears as you tried to drift off. 

— —

You awoke in the morning after a restless night.

How could your own captain forget your birthday? The one who asked you to join the crew in the first place? You think back to the day he held you in his arms on the battlefield while you bled out dying… He said he would fix you if you’d join him on his crew as his (insert profession of your choice). After that day you were a Heart Pirate.

Law was never an expressive man, but lately he had kept to himself all together. Your sadness had started to turn to anger. Your morning was spent cleaning the kitchen and you found yourself slamming the mop buckets around and throwing rags into the sink. 

“He’s such a jerk.” You mutter to yourself. 

After a long day of cleaning you prepare dinner for the crew in the galley. Most everyone thanked you and ate their food happily, with the exception of your captain. Law snuck in, loaded a plate full of food and slunk back to his office, without so much as a hello. You seeth through dinner and leave the dishes for whoever was on kitchen duty that night. 

“I’m not letting him act like this.” You tell yourself as you storm out of the galley down the hallway to the captain’s quarters.

 In your furious state, you push the door of his office open without knocking. You found Law at his desk pouring over several textbooks as a forkful of the mac and cheese you made was hanging out of his mouth. 

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” You storm towards his desk. “You know that?”

“Y/n what-?” Law swallows the bite in his mouth and leans back in his chair. 

“You only fucking care about your stupid research! The Gods fucking forbid you give a shit about anyone else!” You punctuated your last statement by ripping off your apron and balling it up, throwing it on the ground. 

“I assure that everyone on this ship is safe and-“ Law confidently retorts as he rises from his chair and moves towards you. 

“Yesterday was my birthday, Law.” You state firmly and look him in the eye. 

Law had nothing to say. He held your gaze for a few poignant moments. 

Law breaks eye contact and hurriedly moves over to his desk. After shuffling a pile of papers off his workspace, he grabs a small, leather-bound journal and opens it. He sighs as he looks over the page he was searching for. 

“Shit… y/n… I tried to make sure I didn’t forget…” He hung his head at his desk as he slowly shut his calendar. 

He wrote it in his calendar? Your birthday? He cared enough to write it down? You snapped out of your thoughts. 

“Well. Yeah. You did.” You cross your arms. 

“Y/n…. I’m so sorry….” Law strides towards you. His face is inches from yours. You continue to pout, holding firm even though the man you yearned for was breathing down your face. You keep your eyes fixed on the floor. Law gently takes your head in both of his hands and lifts it took look at him. 

“Can I make it up to you?” Law whispers, so close to your own lips. 

“… please…” You gasp out, flustered at your proximity. 

Without hesitation, Law pulls the back of your head towards his and mashes his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. He forcibly sticks his tongue into your mouth and moves one of his hands to grab your hip. You whimper into his mouth as you feel his grip on you tighten. Law grabs your ass and lifts you up to bring you over to the long leather couch in his office. He drops you gently on the soft sofa. Law is on his knees between your legs and leans forward into your neck. 

“Let me take your clothes off…” Law slides your jumpsuit off your shoulders. “I want to prove to you how much I care…” He kisses the crook of your neck as he slips your coveralls off your lower body. 

“Ok…” you panted our nervously as you were now naked in front of him for the first time. He was now between your knees as you sat naked on the leather sofa. Law leaned in to kiss you again, your hands on his neck. As you made out, your hands moved to toss his hat off his head. 

“Take that off, want to feel the real you…” You breath out as you continued to kiss him again. 

Law grunted and backed off of you to remove the rest of his clothes above you. He kneels back down and is face to face with your dripping cunt. 

“Gotta have you now…” Law whispers as he dips his head between your legs. Law swirls his tongue around your clit before he lays the flat of his tongue against your whole sex and drags it up your body. You moan out loud. He stops briefly at your right nipple and sucks harshly before moving his tongue up your body again. Law slides his tongue up your neck from your breast and back into your mouth. 

“Gonna show you how much I care now, okay y/n?” Law whispers in your ear as he lined his cock up with your hole. He teased your slit with his leaking tip before he began dipping in and out of your sopping pussy. 

“Law… want all of you…” You sigh out as you clutch his biceps.

Law smiled down at you. 

“And you’ll get anything you want, love.” Law pushed himself fully inside of you swiftly. You moaned as you felt his pelvis meet yours, feeling his cock caress the deepest places inside your body. 

“Captain!” You shriek out as Law pulls out of you and pushes back in forcefully. 

“I know, I know… just wanna give you the best…” Law grips your hips tightly and thrusted quickly into your wet hole. 

“Shit! Fuck! Law!” You cry as you are bounced against the back of the leather sofa, your captain hitting your spot just right.  “There, Law!” Tears formed at your eyelashes as he brought your body to the culmination of pleasure. 

“Kiss me when you cum. Do it now.” Law leans forward and pushes his mouth onto yours. The rhythmic thrusting of your captain inside of you and his lips on yours was too much for you to handle, you gasp and cream on the cock inside of you. Your eyes roll back into your head and the grip on Law’s arms loosens.

"L-law!"

Your body becomes limp in his hold after your orgasm. 

Law jerks his hips a few times and pulls out of you to spurt hot ropes of cum onto your abdomen. Your normally stoic captain whines as he finished his release. Your head far too hazy to even notice that he had finished on you, you groaned and pulled your lover into your arms. 

“You really meant it, didn’t you?” You whispered teasingly into your lovers face as he brushed your nose with his. 

“What? That I care about you? Of course. As for the rest of tonight… maybe we should.. what’s the word you said? “Soft launch”?”  Law rubbed your noses together.  You laughed. 

“We can keep it quiet for now.” You giggled at your captain. “But I fully expect a party for our anniversary.” 

“I’ll think about it.” Law chuckled as he pulled your body into his and you both drifted off to sleep. 

xx MoMo

#one piece #one piece anime #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #zoro x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law

[morehotch]

birthday secret

info: aaron x babysitter, age gap (reader is in grad school and their age is not specified), it’s aaron’s birthday, gender neutral reader, 2.7k wc

Babysitting Jack Hotchner is one of your absolute favorite times of the week. Jack is a sweet, loving, and a curious six year old that you’ve been babysitting for over a year.

You spent a lot of time with Jack, whenever his aunt was unavailable to watch him, his father texted you to see if you could stay with him. Jack’s father, Aaron, had a very demanding job that didn’t totally understand the specifics of. You know he works for the FBI and travels an immense amount. You’ve spent many nights in their apartment’s guest room, putting Jack to sleep and taking him to school in the morning.

For how much time you spend with Jack, you definitely appreciate how adorable and caring he is. Jack has always been relatively easy to care for and would only come to you upset if he missed his dad and wanted nighttime snuggles— or if it was storming outside.

It’s a big bonus that Aaron Hotchner is incredibly, unfairly, attractive. He always wears pressed and expensive suits with his fancy watch and his usual stern gaze only made his smiles and laughter that much more enticing and encapsulating.

You only hope your raging crush on your boss isn’t too obvious. Aaron is just the total a package, way more responsible and considerate than guys your age— and more attractive. How great he was with Jack and how much he prioritized and cared about his son only amplified how much you unfairly think about Aaron Hotchner.

When you’re making dinner for Jack in their kitchen, you can’t help but think about what it would feel like to have Aaron’s arms come wrap around your torso, resting his chin on your shoulder. Or— whenever you borrowed a shirt or sweatshirt from his closet, you force yourself to ignore how ridiculously good his clothes smell and how comfortable they are.

Tonight, Aaron texts you that he should be back around 8 or 9 tonight and is only staying a few hours later than usual. He wasn’t on a specific case and traveling, instead he had a long budget meeting at the end of his work day.

But today is also Aaron’s birthday and Jack had been talking to you about it all day ever since you picked Jack up from school.

From the two years you’ve been babysitting Jack, you learned that Aaron wasn’t big on his own birthday. From the parties you attended for Jack, you know he puts an immense amount of effort for Jack’s birthdays— but his own were easily overlooked by himself.

But not by Jack.

You stand in the kitchen with Jack now, finishing the dinner you made for the two of you as he helps to put his plate in the sink with a sad pout.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, noticing his sudden mood change since he had finished his favorite mac and cheese.

“My dad doesn’t have a cake,” Jack frowns, continuing, “usually me and daddy always eat cake for his birthday.”

You bite your lip, trying to think, “do you have the ingredients here for us to make something?”

You had spent most of today helping Jack make birthday cards, wrap his dad’s presents, and make a special birthday sign. You know Aaron would be more than happy with everything else Jack had already done but you also know that Jack absolutely thinks the cake is the most important part of birthday celebrations.

Jack looks around, thinking, “wait, maybe!” He clammers out of his chair to rush towards the pantry, obviously searching for something.

You follow him as he pulls out a box of chocolate cake mix and shows it to you. You glance at the other ingredients required and make sure they have them all before agreeing as he excitedly cheers.

Jack quickly helps you round everything together, now full of energy for your baking project. “Ok,” you sigh, staring at all the ingredients now laying out in front of you as he giggles, clasping his hands together, “let’s start!”

You read the directions as Jack looks at you for instruction. He helps you crack the eggs and watches as you mix the rest of the ingredients together in their mixer before you finish pouring the mix into two different cake pans, sticking them in the oven.

You finish with minimal mess as Jack’s interest focuses on the container of bright blue icing he mysteriously pulls from the pantry. You wipe down the counter and put the dishes in the dishwater while you wait for the oven timer to go off while Jack finishes some of his homework from school today. 

Once the cake is done and Jack impatiently watches it cool, you help him ice it, making sure to wipe off his blue stained hands with a wipe afterwards.

He giggles happily at your end product; the two layered chocolate cake with neon blue icing is not the most aesthetically pleasing dessert you’ve seen but it smells good and did it’s job of distracting Jack from missing his father and wanting to celebrate his birthday.

Jack grins, throwing his arms around your legs to hug you. “Daddy will love it!”

“I know he will,” you laugh, ruffling his hair as you smile down at him. 

-

It’s around 7:00 pm when Jack starts to get tired but you can tell he’s willing herself to stay awake, desperately wanting to wait up for Aaron on his birthday. But you know he planned on staying pretty late tonight so you’re sadly not sure if Jack will be able to stay up for him. You’re about to suggest starting to get ready for bed until you get the first text from Aaron you’ve gotten since you picked Jack up from school. 

Hey, I’m otw home.

You tell Jack and he quickly runs to the kitchen to make sure the cakes looks presentable, suddenly gaining a rush of adrenaline, running back down the hallway to his room to pull out his dad’s presents and cards. 

Jack bounces on his heels excitedly for almost ten minutes straight and when the door finally opens, he rushes to Aaron, “Daddy!” he runs straight into his arms, knocking the air only slightly out of him.

“Hey buddy,” he grins, lifting up Jack into his arms. 

“Something smells good,” he remarks and turns to you.

“It’s a secret!” Jack yells, slightly into Aaron’s left ear. 

“Well, it must be a yummy secret then,” he says and Jack giggles sweetly. 

“Come see it, it’s for you!” Jack says, wiggling out of his father’s hold only to grab his hand and tug him into the kitchen. Aaron looks over his shoulder to make eye contact with you and smile at his son’s excitement, obviously endeared. 

“Thank you,” he mouths and you smile, trying to ignore how hot your face feels. 

“It’s your birthday,” you say, once you join them in the kitchen. “You have to have a cake.”

“See! Y/n said so too!” Jack tugs on his dad’s suit jacket that Aaron begins to take off before sitting down. He uncuffs his button down and rolls the sleeves up to his forearms and loosens his tie and you suck in an audible breath, too enamored to even feel that embarrassed. 

Luckily, Jack saves you from any scrutiny, bouncing up and down from excitement. He had been waiting to see his dad all day and any of the tiredness he felt a few minutes ago had totally disappeared. 

“Can we eat it now?” Jack asks and Aaron smiles, taking a good look at the chocolate-- blue, obviously homemade cake. 

“Why don’t you wash up first,” he says, hand on Jack’s back, who nods and runs to the bathroom.

Aaron turns to you with a grin. “Thank you again, Y/n. You totally didn’t have to do this.”

“No problem, we wanted to do this for your birthday. I hope your meeting went well.” You say politely.

“Not really,” he says quickly, “but that’s expected when dealing with my boss.” Aaron chuckles under his breath. “Nothing better than a cut budget and threatening to fire me on my birthday.” 

You’re surprised he’s this honest and open with you. You liked Aaron but never really discussed personal matters or anything beyond small talk and things concerning Jack.

“Anyways,” he shrugs casually, licking some spare icing off his finger. Aaron seems to realize what he said and visibly cringes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all of that on you.”

“No, no you’re not, that sucks. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine.” You’re not really sure what to say that could make Aaron feel better. You’re in grad school, you’re not an FBI agent and barely know what his job entails. “Well,” you continue, “I know Jack is very happy to have you here.”

Aaron grin at the mention of his son, “Thank you for doing all of this with him. He absolutely loves it when you come over. I feel bad not spending my birthday with him. It’s not a big deal to me but I know it is to him.” 

Your eyebrows furrow as Aaron leans against the countertop, staring intently at the cake in front of him, lips pursed and obviously internalizing his decision.

“I know Jack is just happy you’re here now, he knows how hard you work and he doesn’t hold that against you. All day he was just excited to talk about you and your birthday. You do your job and balance it with being a great dad.” Your words pour out truthfully and Aaron’s lips curl into a smile as you continue. “Plus, I’m always happy to spend time with Jack, he’s such a sweet kid.”

Aaron’s smile doesn’t falter and you’re happy that your words seem to resonate with him. Aaron’s gaze continues to linger on you, his mouth opens to speak, choosing his words carefully before hurried footsteps make him stop what he’s about to say.

“Look!” Jack’s voice rings out, “I forgot these,” he runs into the kitchen and Aaron watches him wearily, not wanting him to slip.

“This!” Jack shoves more birthday cards he made into Aaron’s hands, climbing onto a barstool near the counter to be next to the standing two of you. “I made this one for you and Y/n helped with this one!”

Aaron turns over the pink construction paper as some of the excess glitter rubs off onto his hands. “Wow, This is so beautiful, thank you, buddy,”

Jack grins and watching his dad happily and you suddenly feel like you’re intruding on an intimate family moment.

“Well, I guess I should get going, it’s getting late.” You start with a small smile and Jack frowns. 

“But you have to eat the cake we made!” He cries, tugging on his father’s arm and looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can’t Y/n stay?”

“Of course, in fact since you helped, then I think you should.” Aaron turns to you, smiling knowingly. 

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too, but you’re still hesitant. “I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything.”

Aaron’s hand grazes across your forearm, “Of course you’re not,” he frowns. “You’ve helped us so much, you’re never intruding in the Hotchner home.” 

You laugh and look into Aaron’s sweet and pretty eyes. It was so easy to let yourself imagine being with Aaron, loving him even more than you do now. 

“Let’s eat the cake!” Jack decides for you, pulling you from your thoughts and laughing as Aaron cuts it unevenly. 

It’s definitely not the most delicious thing you’ve ever had, very rich and kind of loop sided, but it has heart.

You watch as Aaron feeds Jack cake and occasionally wipes crumbs and icing off his chin and inner corners of his mouth. 

You eat your own piece, listening as Jack retells a story to Aaron about school. You watch Aaron look at Jack with so much love and attention and note how Jack’s eyes totally light up while talking to his father.

Jack turns to you after a while, giggling, “you have icing on your chin!” He mumbles, “cute.” You feel your cheeks flush with heat as Aaron chuckles and you attempt to rub the icing off.

“Daddy, get it off of Y/n too,” Jack says as Aaron moves closer to you.

“Here,” he mutters, tongue poking out in concentration, “it’s right- here.” His finger wipes at your cheek swiftly and you mutter a quiet thanks.

Your cheek feels hot to the touch as Aaron pulls away slowly, eyes still not leaving yours, and Jack resumes his sweet story.

-

“Thank you really, this is the best birthday I’ve had in awhile.” Aaron says as you both stand at his doorway, Jack busy getting ready for bed. “And, honestly, I would love for you to come back more.”

“Me too,” you say quietly. You both are silent and suddenly it’s hard to make eye contact with Aaron as you focus in on his shoulder instead. 

When you finally meet his gaze, he leans closer to you and breathes in before his lips are suddenly on yours. He tastes like the sicky sweet, blue icing as you move closer to him, meeting him halfway.

It lasts for only a few more seconds before he pulls away with wide eyes. “I’m, I’m sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing the nape of his neck nervously. 

“No, no, don’t be sorry,” you say, “that was fine.” You smile, “actually I really liked it. It was— um, way more than fine.”

“Uh-,” Aaron completely forgets what he was going to say and feels like he’s talking to a high school crush. it’s been so long since he’s dated or even thought about dating; thought about kissing someone. 

You’re young and sweet and kind to Jack- that was the most important thing to him, how you interacted with Jack. You took care of him and made him feel so loved when Aaron wasn’t home. You took so much pressure off of Jess to be available constantly. Finding you to babysit Jack changed so much, and Aaron wanted it to secretly change even more. 

“What I said about coming back- I meant, I just. you know, babysitting. Of course. We love you. You know- like babysitting wise” Aaron looks frustrated, like he can’t easily articulate his feelings. 

“Of course,” you smile softly, trying to navigate the rush of complicated feelings that swarm inside of you. 

“I just really like you,” Aaron finally admits. “I was so worried these past few months and I just.” He stops himself to look up at you with a bit lip, looking nervous. “I just love how great you are with Jack, you’re understanding, kind, and he’s so comfortable with you. That’s so important to me.”

Aaron stops himself from rambling. “Anyways,” he laughs, “obviously I’m very out of practice with things like this. But,” he trails off. “I was thinking if you wanted to, we could go on our own date and we can even bring Jack.”

You’re stunned by his admission but find yourself smiling immediately, words leaving your mouth before you can even register them. “I would really like, love, that.”

Aaron looks relieved and immediately beams. “Me too,” he mutters, his voice soft and sweet as his hand slides out of his pocket to interlace his fingers with yours. He looks like he’s about to kiss you again until Jack comes bounding into the doorway, making you let you of Aaron’s hand quickly as Jack clings onto his father’s leg. 

“Night night y/n!” he smiles sweetly, already changed into his dinosaur pajamas, holding a stuffed giraffe in his arm. 

Jack only breaks away from his dad momentarily to hug you. “I wish you could stay forever,” he murmurs, looking up at you with a jutted out lip and big eyes that you never want to say no to. It doesn’t help that you feel that exact same way as Jack. 

“I told Y/n to come back whenever they want,” Aaron adds, making Jack squeal with excitement.

“I can’t wait for you to come back!” Jack squeezes you tightly one last time and Aaron smiles widely, looking at you knowingly, “Me too.”

#aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you

[sparkle-fiend]

Here is my entry for the Spicy Six Winter Fic Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair (thanks so much to you and @unclewaynemunson for the awesome events this month!) My prompt was “kiss in the snow”.

Eddie is ladling a mixture of brown sugar, cinnamon, and mashed sweet potatoes into a baking dish when the phone rings. He nearly drops the bowl, hastily wiping the sticky orange mixture off his fingers before answering.

“Munson’s House of Holiday Horrors, Eddie speaking,” he intones cheerfully. Steve snorts with laughter on the other end of the line.

“What if it hadn’t been me calling?”

“It’s Christmas Eve Stevie, and everyone we know is out of town. Who else would be calling?” He knows the exact expression that will be on Steve’s face right now. He’ll be trying not to smile, which will twist his lips into a crooked little smirk instead. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite expressions. “How was work today?”

“Awful. Remind me never to agree to a holiday shift again. The Christmas movies were out of stock by 9, so I’ve had people screaming at me all day. Like I’m personally responsible for the fact that they waited till the last minute to try and rent the Grinch that Stole Christmas.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums sympathetically. “Poor baby. What time are you coming over?”

“The pie needs to cool another 30 minutes, then I’m leaving.”

They’d argued about the pie for days. Eddie insisted that he had enough dishes planned to feed a small army, while Steve insisted that he just had to bring a pecan pie (which, coincidentally, is Wayne’s favorite).

“You know – you don’t have to work so hard to impress him. Wayne already likes you.”

“Shut up,” Steve says. “I’ll see you at 5:30.”

“See ya.”

They’re not quite to the point of exchanging I love you’s yet, even though it sits on the edge of his tongue every time they say goodbye.

Eddie hangs up the phone and turns to survey the chaos strewn across the kitchen. He’s got half an hour – 45 minutes with driving time. The sweet potato casserole has to be baked, and he still needs to finish two more dishes after that.

“Shit,” he mutters.

***

When Wayne ventures into the kitchen twenty minutes later to check on him, Eddie is frantically stirring sour cream and shredded cheese into the mashed potatoes.

“Christ almighty it’s hot in here. You’re sweatin’ like a hog.”

Eddie scowls and swipes at the hair sticking to his forehead. “Thanks Uncle Wayne.”

Unfortunately, his uncle’s not wrong. The kitchen is sweltering – not surprising, considering the stove and oven have been going all day – and Eddie’s shirt is soaked through. He desperately needs a shower, but he’s running way behind.

“Alright… what can I do to help?”

Eddie pauses long enough to fix his uncle with a skeptical look. “Are you forgetting the famous incident of the frozen turkey? Your cooking privileges have been permanently revoked.”

Wayne looks unimpressed. “Don’t you sass me. I can pull a goddamn casserole out of the oven.”

Eddie snickers and allows himself to be chased out of the kitchen. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t let that casserole burn!”

He takes the stairs up two at a time. It’s still a novelty, living in a house with a second floor – even after half a year. The water pressure is pretty awesome too, although he doesn’t take the time to enjoy it today. He rushes through a lukewarm shower, just enough to cool down and rinse the sweat off; throwing a clean shirt on when he gets out.

With hair still dripping, he thunders back down the stairs in time to see Wayne pull the casserole out, marshmallows browned to a perfect crust on top. His uncle watches in bemusement as Eddie covers the dish with aluminum foil and then hastens to dump frozen rolls onto a pan.

“What time is Steve supposed to get here?” Wayne asks.

Eddie doesn’t even dare look at the clock. “Any minute,” he says distractedly. He adjusts the oven temperature and shoves the pan in. He had a checklist, which is buried somewhere in the pile of used dishes and discarded packaging on the counter. He starts searching for it, shoving things aside in frustration, until he feels his uncle’s hands land heavy on his shoulders.

“Calm down, okay? Everything looks amazing. You’ve done a real good job Ed.”

The old man’s expression is unbearably soft when he turns around. Wayne looks at him like that all the time these days – ever since March, and that tense week in the hospital, when they weren’t sure if infection would finish the job the demobats had started.

It makes Eddie feel warm and awkward at the same time. He darts forward for a quick hug, pressing his face into the smoky flannel of his uncle’s shoulder, before stepping back and shoving the old man toward the door.

“Go on. Let me know when Steve gets here. And turn on the lights!”

***

Eddie loses track of time as he scrambles to finish – last minute tasks keep popping up every time he turns around. When he’s finally ready to call it done, he heads for the living room, expecting to find Steve and Wayne watching something on tv while they wait.

But it’s six o’clock, and there’s no sign of Steve. Wayne is standing against the big picture window, curtains shoved aside so he can look out.

“Hate to break it to ya Ed, but I’m not sure your boy is gonna make it. Snow’s really coming down out there.”

Eddie takes his uncle's place against the window, pressing his nose against the cold glass as he cups his hands to shield the glare. It's dark out, and the only thing illuminated by the porch light is a swirling wall of snowflakes. Judging by the snow already piled on the railing, it's collecting thick and fast.

"Shit," he mutters.

Concern immediately churns his stomach. If Steve left the house when he planned to, he should have arrived over half an hour ago.

Eddie goes to the phone on the end table by Wayne’s recliner, dialing the familiar number, hoping Steve decided to wait out the weather. The Christmas tree twinkles merrily in the corner; red, green, blue, and yellow lights reflecting off the silver tinsel while Eddie listens to the phone ring and ring - until the click of the answering machine picks up.

He hits the switch hook to end the call, re-dialing immediately. Ring, ring, ring and the click of the answering machine again.

He stays on the line long enough to hear the recorded voice of Steve’s father announce: “You’ve reached the Harrington residence. Leave a name, number, and brief message…” Eddie hangs up again with a frustrated growl.

Wayne watches with a worried frown. “You don’t think he would try to drive in this mess, do you? Not in that fancy car of his.”

Only someone who didn’t know Steve very well would ask that question. If Robin or Dustin were here, they’d already be suiting up for a search party.

Apparently, the expression on Eddie’s face is answer enough, because Wayne’s lips press into a thin line before he nods. “Right then. We’ll put the snow chains on the truck – as long as you go slow, you should be okay.”

They throw on coats and boots and a hat for Wayne, before trooping out into the whirling snow. Working in tandem, it only takes a few minutes to get the chains wrapped around the front tires of Wayne’s truck, latched and tensioned tight.

They agree that Wayne should stay behind in case Steve ends up calling after all, and then Eddie is off, pulling slowly down the drive.

The little house (part of a generous government settlement in exchange for their silence) is on the outskirts of town, surrounded by trees and cornfields – and no neighbors for at least ten miles. Which means the only light comes from the feeble beam of the truck’s headlights, struggling to penetrate the wall of snow. It’s like driving into a tunnel.

Eddie holds his foot tense above the gas pedal, giving it just enough juice to keep the old truck bumping along at a snail’s pace, listening to the chained tires grip and grind over the snow.

I never said ,‘I love you’, he thinks. I never said it. Steve could be dead or dying somewhere along the road, and the last thing Eddie ever said to him was, “See ya.”

It’s unbearable.

After a nerve-wracking 15 minutes, scanning and straining his eyes nearly to tears – Eddie finally spots a faint shape in the distance. Just the silhouette of a person, no car in sight.

It’s Steve. It’s gotta be.

He slams on the brakes – too hard. Even with the chains on, the old truck slides a few terrifying feet farther than intended. Heart pounding, Eddie throws it into park and wrenches the door open.

He hits the ground ready to run and nearly busts his ass as he sinks into snow over his ankles; staggering like a drunk toward the huddled figure of his boyfriend.

Eddie grips the other boy by the shoulders, eyes raking over him head to toe, searching for injuries. It’s hard to see – the headlights cast everything in sharp relief, full of shadow.

“Shit Steve… are you okay? I was so fucking worried, Jesus Christ.”

Steve pats his chest and laughs through the audible chattering of his teeth. “I’m f-fine Ed, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“What happened?”

“Deer ran out in front of me. T-tried to miss it and the Beemer spun off the road. Car’s fine, but it’s stuck in a ditch.”

Eddie huffs out a relieved laugh and squeezes his boyfriend tight. Just stuck in a ditch – thank god. They’re so lucky the accident wasn’t serious; and lucky that Eddie came looking before Steve froze to death trying to make the long, cold walk to the house.

He pulls back to gaze into those beloved brown eyes, brushing aside a swoop of hair stiff with ice.

“I love you,” Eddie says abruptly. His breath hangs like dragon-smoke between them. It’s not how he intended this moment to go, but he can’t keep it in any longer. “I was afraid to say it, but then… when I thought something might have happened to you, all I could I think was that I never told you how I felt.”

“Eddie,” Steve whispers. “Eddie, I love you too.”

He laughs, giddy with relief, and cradles Steve’s jaw as he leans into a kiss. The world falls away - there’s nothing but Steve’s slightly chapped lips, warming slowly against his own, and the soft whisper of the snowflakes.

It’s perfect - until Steve shifts awkwardly and winces in pain.

“What the hell Steve, I thought you said you weren’t hurt?”

Steve grins sheepishly and leans against Eddie, trying to take the weight off his left leg. “I said the car was fine. I twisted my knee trying to climb out of that damn ditch.”

“Goddamnit… is there anything else I should know?”

His boyfriend unzips his jacket, revealing a towel-wrapped disc tucked securely against his chest. “I saved the pie,” he says proudly.

“Jesus Christ.” Overwhelmed by affection, Eddie kisses Steve again; it’s either that or shake the mad bastard. “Come on… let’s get you and your stupid pie home before you both freeze.”

#lexswinterficchallenge #strangerthingsfestivefun #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington/eddie munson #my fic #this was originally supposed to be a lot longer and more involved #but I wrote and scrapped like four different versions #and ended up with this #snuck in some art to make up for it

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

I would NOT go from ANY yandere's grasp if they feed me what i like, like either i'd be too absorbed in eating or i'd be too tired after eating to really want to escape 😭 i don't really care what they'd do (love u btw)

Relatable honestly, man if that’s all it takes for a Yandere to keep you around, you’ll best bet they’re going to give it their all making you food to keep you around. Here’s a little comfy ramble…

I feel like most Jojo characters would be able to cook even if it’s just following a recipe. Foo Fighters does her best flipping through countless cookbooks, and watching videos of whatever your favorite things are. That’s what people do to bond right? Have good tasting food! It’ll surely bring you both closer together.

There’s a few that aren’t great with cooking, Mista occasionally burns certain things, he’ll admit cooking isn’t exactly his skill but figures everything out something eventually . (He finds it a pain to cook cheese sauces since they can burn easily) If it’s too complicated he’s taking you out to a restaurant that specializes in it.

Okuyasu isn’t the best with cooking at the start, mixing up spices, or under/overcooking. He manages to somehow convince Tonio to teach him properly. Being a good partner means making their favorite food properly in his mind so he’s not going to slack on that if it keeps you happy.

Since we’re mentioning food here might as well mention Tonio Trussardi here. This is the best way for him to be Yandere honestly right within his territory. Using Pearl Jam or not, it fills him with joy with whatever dish or snack you like. The way your shoulders relax once you eat sends this chefs heart fluttering like never before. He’s not really worried if you happen to be fond of something more factory made/processed his approximations are almost always better than the packaged things. (It’s better this way in his book anyhow).

I also feel like Gyro would probably take advantage of your lowered guard around your favorite food. He considers himself descent at his homelands dishes and of course Johnny likes his coffee he prepares, so often he ends up insisting to cook, practically taking over it from before on your journey. (Which works for him, you don’t need to worry about talking to whoever else anyway). He can’t wipe that stupid big grin from his face as you sit to eat your favorite thing. (That’s if you even notice from how tasty it is)

Koichi is another character who would take up some form of cooking for you. Maybe he just happens to eavesdrop one afternoon after class and see what exactly you’re eating? Then he makes himself useful and buys everything, then prepares it at home. Then hey, what do you know? One day or another you both happen to bump into each other and can even sit together for lunch for a little while.

(Here’s a part 8 character I feel like is underrated)

Karera is another character I definitely see using food to her advantage with you. She’ll get your favorite meals at whatever shop for free somehow (with a bit of handiwork from her stand love love deluxe). Oh hey, she just happened to buy something you like that was sold out most places, how about you sit and eat it with her? Making lunch/dinner? Duh she’ll make it for you, as long as you’re eating what she made with her own two hands (or bought/scammed herself) she’s happy.

If that’s what makes it easy to keep you around Jotaro doesn’t really mind. He’s right on it to getting/making it for you. Holly of course inserts herself pulling out recipes, she’d know you’d love. Just a small suggestion to her son of course as she winks. He’ll be right in the kitchen with her preparing everything, or quickly walking out to get whatever’s needed. Just don’t make yourself sick from eating too fast.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere jjba #yandere jjba imagines #yandere jjba x reader #Yandere karera sakunami #Yandere Koichi hirose #Yandere Toni trussardi #yandere jotaro #yandere foo fighters #Yandere okuyasu #yandere gyro zeppeli #yandere guido mista

[luimagines]

Sequel to ‘You Leave Before He Can Confess’ Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

This is directly follow the first half, which you can read right here!

Part two will include the same boys as before, which are Time, Twilight and Warrior.

Content under the cut!

Time

Time has avoided a lot of people when he returned home.

He considered himself lucky that Talon was willing to hire him again. They had kept his room clean and his spot at the table empty, waiting for his return.

He was so touched by the idea that he broke down in tears for the second time. But he doesn’t go out of his way to interact with anyone else on the farm.

They call him cold and traumatized. He’s even worse off than before he went on his journey with the boys. They say he’s gone mute, that he’s mean, that he thinks he’s better than everyone else so he won’t mingle with the others. They say he must be delusional, that he has ideas of grandeur, that he’s something special.

In reality he just doesn’t want to talk to anyone.

He also doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life now. Before he was going with the motions, just trying to make it through another day. It was nice because there was very little that was expected of him and very little that he expected of others. He ok with being a bachelor and had no other plans.

But then he met you and started to fantasize.

How can he go back to how he was before when his dreams were torn away from him before they were ever brought into reality? And that’s not fair to you. You didn’t even know. You weren’t in a position to answer him. You’re completely clueless on the effect you had on him

Time still finds himself daydreaming about what could have been, he’s sure that Malon think he’s crazy.

In reality, she’s worried about him. He never told her much about what’s happened to him in the past but whatever he’s just come back from, really messed him up this time. She’s never seen him cry before. But now he cries often.

“Link, are you ok?” She asks him one day as he brushes down the horses. He takes special care of Epona, his favorite. There’s a different look in his eyes now as he takes her in. It triggers a smaller memory in Malon’s mind, about the boys that came to visit a while back. Didn’t they have a horse too? “You didn’t come to eat anything for lunch.”

Time jumps and snaps his head to her. He’s gotten thinner and he’s paler than she remembers. Is that from the lack of sunlight? Funny, he’s always working. You’d think he’d have gotten darker. Malon doesn’t like this one bit. “I brought you something.”

Time nods and gulps. “Thank you.”

Malon takes out the small packaged she prepared. It’s some bread and cheese with a bottle of the ranch’s own milk. It’s not much, but the other ranch hands had taken what they have prepared so there was very little left over. “I hope you can stop by for dinner again. It’s been... empty, without you there.”

He nods, putting the brushes aside and taking the parcel from her hands.

Malon bites her lip. He’s never been this bad before. Her heart bleeds for her friend. He’s clearing suffering but from what, she can’t tell. “You know... I know you like to keep to yourself. But you can always talk to me. I’ve been meaning to ask about your latest travels.”

Time licks his lips and nods. It’s slow and robotic. “....Alright.”

Malon sighs and takes a step back. That might be all she’s getting out of him today. “We’re friends. I’ll see you... later today... hopefully...”

Time nods, putting the food to the side and picks up the brush again. “Hopefully...”

He really doesn’t feel like going. But you would have wanted him to go. And you most certainly would have wanted him to eat. He sighs and takes a break.

He’s not going to give you any more reason to worry than he no doubtedly already has.

Twilight

Twilight didn’t think that this would have happened to him twice. 

The first time was a kick to the head. It was fast, sudden, and disorienting. He had thought he knew what was happening, but it ended much differently than he anticipated. That alone was enough to mess with him for months afterwards.

Then he met the group. But he knew how it would end if they succeeded, so he thought he could handle it.

He didn’t account for you.

And for to you leave, so similarly and yet so off script was more than just a kick to the head. You might as well have stabbed him in his heart and left him for dead.

Now he knows that to say that isn’t entirely being fair to you. You didn’t know how he was feeling or what he has been through. You didn’t know what you were doing to him. You didn’t know anything.

But Twilight thinks that he can confidently say that this is worst than the first time.

Probably because you didn’t know.

In your eyes, you had said goodbye. You had said what you wanted to say and that was the end of it. You knew that you were never to see him again and didn’t want to make it worse than it already would be. So it was quick. Painless.

Sort of.

It hurts Twilight more because he saw this coming a mile away. He saw the charge. He saw the moment it targeted him. He saw the moment he knew he was going to get hit. 

And he still let it play out the same way as before. 

And with you none the wiser to bet.

He had thought he would have learned his lesson by now. But clearly he has not. 

Twilight is taking some time to himself now that he’s home again. He’s hardly left his house, let alone his bed. Everyone else is kind and patient with him. Uli brings him dinners and Rusl come in with Colin to try an get him out into the sunshine for a little while. They’re successful every other day. And Ilia, like the force of nature she is, has taken his house by storm, cleaning everything she can get her hands on, chastising him for making all of them worry about him as much as he has. But it’s all in good spirits.

Twilight finds it in himself to get up again and check on Epona. It’s a while and maybe some fresh air would do him some good.

The children are already playing outside his house when he opens the door. They cheer and take him by storm, happy that he finally came out on his own free will. He laughs and teases them as he always has. They’re getting big, he can hardly throw them over his shoulders like he used to.

It’s almost normal.

And Twilight thinks he’s going to have to be ok with that from now on. This almost normal. 

He sighs and smiles, letting the children overpower him joyfully. He found a new almost normal after Midna. He supposes it’s about time for him to find a new almost normal after you now.

Warrior

Warrior feels like he’s been spending his days in a haze. 

Everything seems to be moving faster without him.

He has no closure, no anchor, no tether to reality.

It can’t be over. Just like that? There’s no other threat. No letters. No evidence. No messages. No danger. It’s as if his whole worlds has had the rug pulled from under him.

There no way for him to learn what happened.

One minute he was supporting battle wounds, with a smile on his face and light heart, knowing that the battle was over and the next he was home. He remembers you being there. But were you actually there? Or was his brain playing tricks on him?

He was sure that you were with him before he blacked out.

Didn’t you stay with him? Was he abandoned? Was there anything that would have separated the two of you? Or the whole group? Surely someone would have left something for him.

Weren’t they friends?

His only consolation was that both Zelda and Impa had asked him for a full report regarding all of the events. So it’s not as if he had imagined the entire event.

He could try to locate Lana and Cia as much as he loathes the idea. He knows that they were more or less watching over him and the others throughout the entire adventure. If anything, he’s willing to bet that they were both in charge, or at least overseeing what brought them all back to begin with. But they both seem to be avoiding the castle and the people as of late.

It only serves to fuel his anger.

How dare they? How dare anyone? They were so close. You were so close. Couldn’t he at least been given enough time to wake up and say goodbye? To say what he needed to say? To let them now that he was going to be ok?

He swallows the spit in mouth as harshly as he can.

Warrior doesn’t know who he has to blame for this, but when he finds out who they are, they will be hearing from him. He doesn’t care who he has to use or who he has to track down.

This isn’t ok. This isn’t right. This isn’t fair.

IT’S NOT FAIR.

He stops dead in his tracks, wiping the tears away form his face before anyone can see him.

He’s been prone to crying lately. 

He hates it.

...You would have hated it too. You never liked to see him upset, so he can only imagine what kind of reaction his tears would get out of you.

His adjusts his uniform and pinches his eyes to stop the tears. 

He misses you. He misses the boys. He misses his friends.

Warrior would have liked to at least say goodbye. But he gets none of that.

He keeps walking forward. He has another meeting to get to.

Part 3

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader

[lale-txt]

♡ DILFS DILFS DILFS: confessing while thinking the other one is asleep w/ dilf!Kid & gn!reader

a/n: requested by @eustasssimp who single-handedly awakened my suppressed love for this tulip (•ө•)♡ thank you for letting me turn this man in a dilf for you! you picked one of my favorite prompts (i recycled this one from my previous event because that's how much i love this trope hehe) and i hope you enjoy this! mwah!

word count: 1.5k

It is suspiciously quiet on the Victoria Punk.

Kid had retreated to his workshop after dinner, growling something about new explosives he invented which didn't quite work yet how he wanted them to; a fact that should probably be slightly concerning, but after sailing for over 20 years with him as captain you were used to this by now.

What worried you more was that Kid had skipped his usual midnight snack, a time of the day the two of you usually met in the light of the open fridge, eating shredded cheese straight out of the package or whatever else Killer had prepared for you (the first mate got tired of you eating his meal preparations for the next day and assembled a plate for your nightly munchies ever since). It had become a daily ritual for the captain and you, and admittedly, it was your favorite time of the day.

A time when it was just him and you. You don’t mind sharing, hell, you even leave him the last bite of the flaky strawberry pastry Killer made and you eat the ice cream you like the second best because you know your favorite is also his. You are happy about every minute you can spend by his side, surrounded by crew and friends and still you'd have eyes for Kid only. 

But midnight snack hour? It was special.

Because you would squat so close to each other in front of the fridge and your arms would brush and send warm shivers down your spine. Because you would share a spoon for the pudding under the pretext of minimizing the amount of dishes you had to do afterwards and it felt like an indirect kiss. Because he would often feed you big bites and laugh when you struggled to chew on them, spilling half of it on your shirt, but it didn't matter because the sound of his laughter was warmer than sunshine.

You glance at the clock. Kid was never late, at least not for this time of the day. You feel slight worry rise up in your chest, wondering if for once something did happen to your captain while playing with explosives, but then you remember that it was Kid you were thinking about; a man that would face an army of thousands of man and just laugh it off while he causes a storm, sinking them one by one with his bare fist and rage in his eyes.

No, he was definitely fine. So why would he leave you hanging for midnight snack hour? You grab the plate of cookies Killer had prepared for you and stomp through the dark hallway towards Kid’s workshop. 

Light is coming through the cracks of the door, but besides that there is neither an alarming sound nor the smell of something burning which you take as a good sign. Kid has a bad habit of not knocking on doors before entering a room which lead to several awkward situations in the past and while you would definitely like to pay him back for the one time he caught you performing to Soul King’s newest album with a hairbrush and Kid’s coat around your shoulders for a more dramatic effect, you choose to be civilized today and knocked gently at the wooden door. 

Usually you would get some spat out insult or at least a grunt in return, but there was nothing but radio silence from the other side. You knock again, whispering Kid’s name into the dark and after you still got no answer, you decide to step in – those cookies in your hands were begging to be eaten and you couldn’t endure his bitching for three days at least when he found out you devoured them all by yourself.

His broad back is the first thing you notice. He is sitting at his massive workbench, slumped over, his head resting on top of his crossed arms, shoulders lifting with every deep breath he took.

“Kid? You okay?” 

You shut the door without a sound behind you and tiptoe towards him, almost like you would approach a wild animal, unsure if it would bite or not. That’s when you notice that his eyes are shut, his expression particular soft. His goggles lay on the table beside him and red and gray strands of hair fall into his face which makes you smile, because you know how vain Kid is when it comes to his appearance and how he would grumble all day when he had a bad hair day. 

What Kid doesn’t know is that you love every alleged imperfection about him. His damp hair clinging to his forehead when he comes out of the shower, the wrinkles on his forehead he got from frowning so much (and though he applied his skin care religiously, not even Eustass Kid wasn’t immune to aging), his skin scarred by countless battles – there was not a single thing you disliked about him, but this was your well-kept secret.

A love in hiding. 

You set down the plate of cookies on a couple blueprints, careful not to make a sound that could wake him up. He must have been exhausted, falling asleep like that in his workshop when usually he wouldn’t go to bed without taking an extensive shower to get rid of the acrid smell of oil and metal that naturally just stuck to him. You guess that excuses him for standing you up on midnight snack hour, but just this once.

Kid’s workshop was a mess of various components made of steel, from tiny screws to big bulks of pipes stacked on top of each other. Usually no one was allowed in there except Killer to call him for dinner, so you took the chance and let your gaze wander around for a few moments, scanning the room until you find what you are looking for. You take the blanket which is hanging over one of his creations, beat it carefully off its dirt and dust and put it around Kid’s shoulders, making sure it wouldn’t slip off with the slightest movement.

You don’t have it in your heart to wake him up and tell him to go to bed, not because you feared his sleepdrunk wrath – you could handle that after all these years. What scared you was the thought of him seeing you with that soft gaze of yours, nothing but love radiating around you when you were near him, as if you were merely a marionette held up by your heartstrings. 

It was all that held you together; those unspoken words and what if’s. 

You switch off the desk lamp, dipping the room in a deep midnight blue and with that your heart feels very heavy suddenly, as if someone ripped the veil off it, exposing it to its fullest. Frozen on the spot your legs refuse to move, your breath faltering. It was as if you’re walking on a tightrope between two universes, different versions of you, but both deeply in love with Eustass Kid. 

You adjust the blanket one last time, your fingertips brushing over the back of his neck. He is warm, he always is, as if the light burning within him was about to become a wildfire. You feel calm, standing in the eye of the storm and leaning down towards him, your lips close to his ear, your hand still resting on the broad back of his neck. 

“I’m in love with you, captain.”

You didn’t think your confession would fall out of your mouth that easily, but maybe the darkness brought the illusion of safety, as if your words could simply hide in the corners of this room and will never be seen again; lifted off your chest and a faint echo meant for no one to be heard. 

Just when you’re about to turn around and leave, an arm wraps around your waist and holds you back, a familiar voice growling out your name. You would have jumped but Kid has you in such a tight grip, there’s no room for you to escape. Instead your heart simply skips a beat; there’s nothing for you to do than to surrender.

Kid lifts his torso and pulls you in his lap, his fingers digging into your side, but it doesn't feel harsh or painful, more as if he wants to make sure that you’re not suddenly bolting and leave him alone with the thing you just said. You can feel his piercing gaze on you and when you avoid his eyes, his hand comes to your chin, tilting it easily so you’re forced to look at him. Even in the dark you can make out his eyes, tiny galaxies you could get lost in easily. You put your hands on his chest, mostly to stop them from shaking, but you can feel his heart drumming to the beat of yours underneath your fingertips.

“What if I told you that I feel the same way? Would it make this dream come true?”

#eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece reader insert #one piece fluff #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #2K3D event

[astrobei]

hi suni astrobi my beloved dear suni ❤️🫂

sending you a valentine's day prompt because i can annnnnd.

i challenge you to write miwi bc i need more miwi in my life. you can do whatever you want with this, but i want to see little baby will making a valentine's day card for his best friend, mike. bonus points if it has like paladin mike and dragons and all that other good ole fashioned dnd goodness.

hi andi andiwriteordie my beloved dear andi <3 happy valentine's day !! as a special present for you, here is my first ever attempt at writing miwi :^)

On Sunday night, Will’s mom brings home a bag of candy.

This, obviously, grabs his attention before anything else– brightly packaged somethings that crinkle loudly when his mom puts the bag down on the kitchen table. He can see them peeking out through the thin white plastic of the Melvald’s bag, and immediately perks up.

“What are those?” he asks, because it’s not rare for his mom to bring stuff back from work– especially on late nights like this, when she knows that Jonathan is busy with homework and no one’s had a chance to cook dinner, not when she’s been out all day and his dad is– well. His dad sure isn’t about to cook dinner, and Will has learned how to heat stuff up in the microwave but they’re currently out of everything that he can stick in a microwave. Will expects her to whip out a couple of TV dinners, and he kind of hopes she will, because it’s late and he’s hungry.

He peers over the long end of the table, trying to catch a glimpse, because the TV dinners don’t usually look like this– all pink and red and crinkly. His mom laughs, then holds the bag open by the handles so he can look inside. “Candy,” she says, “for your class Valentine’s Day party tomorrow.”

Will stopped listening after the word candy. He doesn’t know what Valentine’s Day is, and he doesn’t really care, because the bag is full of the brightly wrapped candies and chocolates that he saw in the store the other day when his mom took him inside. “Whoa,” he breathes out, and reaches out to stick a hand into the bag, even if just to make sure that what he’s seeing is real. A whole bag, full of candy. The wrappers crinkle some more, loud under his palm, and he pulls out a heart-shaped lollipop, flat and an almost aggressive shade of red. “Is this for us?”

“Oh, no way,” his mom laughs some more. “This much candy? All your teeth are going to fall out.”

Will grins. “My teeth are already falling out,” he says, pointing to where he’d lost his first one just a couple of weeks ago. He’s still not used to it, the strange space in his mouth where there didn’t use to be one before. He sticks the tip of his tongue into the gap there, and his mom rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“Maybe that’s because of all the candy you ate at Halloween,” she says, and leans over to ruffle his hair. “It’s not good for you!”

“Danny in my class already lost three teeth,” Will mopes, “and he got three dollars from the tooth fairy, so maybe if mine fall out too–”

“The tooth fairy will refuse to give you money because you let your teeth rot on purpose,” Joyce says, and Will slumps into the chair next to her, pouting. “It goes against the tooth fairy laws.”

Will might only be six, but he knows that there’s no such thing as tooth fairy laws. There can’t be rules just for one person. That’s ridiculous. He tucks the lollipop from earlier into his pocket before his mom can see, though. Just in case. “What’s the candy for?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow,” his mom says, walking over to the kitchen and opening the fridge door. “Your class is having a party, and these are for your friends.”

Will frowns. “What’s– Valentine’s Day?”

“It’s a holiday about celebrating the people you love.” Joyce emerges with a loaf of bread and a few slices of cheese. “Grilled cheese okay for dinner?”

They’ve had grilled cheese for about four days in a row now, but Will doesn’t mind. His mom makes them perfect. He nods. “Yeah!” 

“You have to eat the crusts this time,” she says. “Don’t think I didn’t see you throw them away last time.”

Shoot. So close.

“Fine,” Will agrees, then leans over to pluck another candy out of the bag. It’s pink this time. He thinks it might be strawberry-flavored. Will isn’t the biggest fan of strawberry, but candy is candy after all.

“I heard that,” his mom chides, back still turned to him, as the candy wrapper crinkles loudly under his fingers. “Put the candy back, Will.”

No! So close again. Will scowls at the traitorous sweet in his hand and tosses it back in the bag. “How did you even hear that?”

“I have superpowers, remember?” Joyce points to her ears and shoots him a wink. She’s probably right, Will thinks glumly. His mom has ears on the back of her head– or whatever it is they say.

“Why do my kids in my class get candy and I don’t?” 

“They’ll give you candy too,” Joyce assured him, flipping a sandwich over in the pan. “That’s the whole point! You trade candy and Valentine’s Day cards.”

Cards? “What kind of cards?”

“You can look in the bag. I picked some of those up on the way back from work.”

Will sticks his arm bag in the bag and shuffles it around, until soft cellophane gives way to the sharp edge of cardstock. He pulls one out– “Be mine,” he reads aloud, then wrinkles up his nose in confusion. “Huh?”

“Cheesy, huh?” Joyce slides a plate in front of him, and smiles. “Speaking of cheesy–”

Dinner! Will’s stomach rumbles, and in the face of a perfectly made grilled cheese sandwich, thoughts of Valentine’s Day slip instantly out of his mind. 

—

They don’t stay out for long, though.

“Jonathan?”

Jonathan’s room door is open, and he has his back to the door, but he turns around as Will peers through the doorway. “Oh. Hey, Will.”

Will shuffles his feet, hesitating. Is this a stupid question to ask? Surely Jonathan won’t think he’s stupid. Jonathan never thinks Will is stupid, even when Will asks dumb questions or says dumb things or acts super annoying. “What’s Valentine’s Day?” he blurts out.

Jonathan raises his eyebrows. “Huh?”

Maybe Jonathan doesn’t know. That’s a weird thought, though, because Jonathan knows everything. He’s in third grade now, which seems big and grown up and far away. It’s old enough for your grade to have an actual number. Not like kindergarten, which Jonathan says is, like, zero grade. “Valentine’s Day,” Will says again. Mom had been so vague about it, and he’s still not sure what’s up with the lovey-dovey stuff. Maybe Jonathan can help. “What is it?”

“Um,” Jonathan says. “It’s– the holiday of love, I guess?”

Oh. That’s lame. “Ew,” Will says, making a face. “That’s gross.”

“Tell me about it,” Jonathan sighs. “Why are you asking?”

“I have to celebrate with my class tomorrow,” Will sighs. “And mom got candy but I’m not allowed to eat any.”

Jonathan makes a sympathetic noise. “Lame.”

“I know!” Will exclaims. “And I don’t even– love anybody. Gross.”

“Well,” Jonathan says thoughtfully, “it doesn’t have to be love love. It can be, um. Any kind of special somebody.”

“Special somebody?” That’s a weird thing to call someone. “Huh?”

“You know. Is there someone special to you? Someone you really like?”

Will likes a lot of people. His teacher is really nice. He likes mom’s boss at the store, because sometimes he lets Will pick out a piece of candy from the display. He likes Jonathan, and he likes his mom, of course. But people who are special–

“Mike,” Will decides immediately. It’s an obvious choice, because Will hadn’t ever had best friends before Mike came into his life earlier this year. They do everything together– playing at recess, eating lunch, sleeping over at each other’s house. The other kids in the class even talk about them like they’re one person– MikeandWill– which makes Will smile. It’s nice to feel like he’s a part of something. Mike is special. Mike makes him feel special.

Something funny happens to Jonathan’s face, super fast, and then it goes back to normal. “There you go,” he says, then nods. “You can make something for Mike.”

“Like what?”

“Um, I don’t know. Draw him a card?”

“Mom already bought cards,” Will sighs.

“Make him a special one,” Jonathan shrugs. “Because he’s– um. Your special somebody.”

Will grins, wide enough that he knows his missing tooth gap is showing. Sue him. He thinks it’s cool, even if Jonathan has, like, five of them and doesn’t care. “Thanks, Jonathan!”

“Uh, yeah!” Jonathan sounds a little confused as he calls after him, but Will is already on his way to his own room. “You’re welcome!”

When Will gets back to his room, he pulls out his crayons and his paper, sits down at his desk, and–

He stops.

Oh no.

What is he supposed to put on a card? For Mike, especially, who’s one of the coolest people Will knows. What if he thinks it’s lame? What if he doesn’t want a card? What if whatever Will makes is so boring and awful that Mike laughs?

Will shakes his head. No, he thinks. Mike won’t laugh at him. Mike would never laugh at him, and that’s why he’s so special– everyone else laughs at Will, sometimes, about his clothes or his hair or the way he talks. But Mike doesn’t. Mike thinks he’s cool, and Mike thinks he’s fun, and Mike likes all the same stuff as he does– the kind of stuff that everyone else in their class thinks is lame but Mike doesn’t.

Will stares down at the blank sheet of colored paper. Blue, because Mike likes blue. And Will’s got a twenty-four pack of crayons and he doesn’t know what color to draw in, but everything else, the candies and the cards in mom’s bag, had been red or pink, so maybe Will should draw in red or pink too. And– everything else had, like, hearts on it, so maybe he can start there.

“For Mike,” Will says aloud, slowly and carefully, as he writes the words at the top of the paper. He’s pretty sure he spelled it right. He knows he’s got Mike’s name correct, at least. F-O-R. For. 

Yeah. That looks okay.

The heart is next. Will tries to make it big enough to take up most of the page, where the paper has been folded in half down the middle. It’s a little lumpy, but– yeah. You can totally tell it’s a heart.

Probably.

He opens the card to the inside, and pauses again. Great, he thinks, because what is he supposed to write on the inside? He’d already drawn a heart on the front, and it would probably be a little lame to draw another one on the inside.

“Think,” he groans out loud, putting the red crayon down and peering into the box. Half of them are broken, and some others are worn down to nubs, so it’s not even like he has a lot of options here.

What sort of stuff does Mike even like? Mostly the same stuff Will does, but then maybe that would be like Will is making a card for himself, and not for Mike. He looks at the paper some more, like maybe something will appear on it, fully-formed, if he stares long enough.

Nope. Nothing. 

Will sighs, and thinks harder.

Mike had liked that book they read in class last week– something about a knight rescuing a princess from a tower. Will hadn’t really been paying attention, because it was kind of boring and, like, sappy and about love, but Mike had been totally into it. Will had looked over during group reading time and his eyes had been huge and his jaw had been, like, on the floor. Will didn’t really get the appeal, because, again, it had been totally cheesy and sappy and gross. But Mike had found a stick at recess an hour later and brandished it like a sword, and Will had been too busy laughing to properly express how lame he thought the whole thing was.

It wasn’t lame when Mike did it, though. That’s why Mike is special– nothing’s lame when he does it.

Will picks up a crayon. He has an idea.

—

Don’t think it’s lame, Will prays, fighting every instinct in his body that’s telling him to squeeze his eyes shut and hold his breath. Please don’t think it’s lame.

Mike hasn’t said anything yet. Maybe he really does think it’s lame.

Will is starting to wish that maybe the asphalt of the playground could just open up and swallow him whole. Mike totally thinks it’s lame. Maybe Mike didn’t even want a card. Maybe Mike is weirded out. Maybe Mike–

“Did you really make this?”

Will blinks. Mike doesn’t sound weirded out. He sounds– impressed? Maybe?

“Um. Yes,” he says anyway. Mike’s eyes are wide where he’s staring at the card in front of him, and Will holds his breath after all– just a little– for one second, then two, then–

“Will!” Mike says, face breaking out into the biggest smile Will has literally ever seen him smile. “This is awesome!”

Oh, thank god. “Really?” Will can’t keep the relief out of his voice when he asks.

“Yeah!” Mike nods rapidly, never once taking his eyes off the paper. “This is awesome!”

“You already said that,” Will points out, but he’s smiling now too. “You really don’t think it’s lame?”

“No way!” Mike points at the crayon outline of a figure against the blue paper. “Is that me?”

“Duh,” Will says, pointing to where he had drawn an arrow and written Mike. Just in case there was any confusion. “It’s you as the knight. From the story.”

“I love the knight from the story,” Mike announces, and Will immediately feels like a million pounds of weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Thank god. 

“I know,” Will giggles. “You almost killed me with the stick you were waving around.”

Mike gasps. “Excuse you. It was a sword.”

“Sure,” Will says. “Okay. It was a sword.”

Mike looks like he’s going to say something else, and then he stops. He shakes his head. His voice is quieter now when he says, “You really made this for me?”

Will doesn’t know why they keep coming back to this. Obviously he made this for Mike. That’s why he’d labeled the drawing with his name. Mike. He’d meant for that to help, in case there was any confusion, but maybe he hadn’t labeled it well enough. Maybe two arrows next time. Or maybe he should add Mike’s last name, just in case Mike thought he made it for the other Mike in their class. “Duh,” he says again, because he isn’t sure what about this Mike isn’t understanding. “It’s for– Valentine’s Day.”

Mike goes a little pink. Will’s not sure why, because they’ve been sitting in one spot for all of recess so far, and Mike hasn’t been running around at all. “Really?”

“Jonathan said I should make a card for someone special.” Will tugs nervously at the zipper on his jacket. Why is he nervous? It’s only Mike. “And I think you’re special.”

Mike’s mouth drops open. He closes it, then opens it again, in an excellent imitation of their class goldfish Bubbles. “Really?”

Maybe Mike’s words just aren’t working today. Will feels like that a lot. He gets it. “Duh,” he says, for the third and hopefully final time. “You’re my best friend.”

“Wow,” Mike breathes out. “You’re an awesome artist, Will.”

“Really?”

Okay, maybe it’s Will’s turn for his brain to stop working. He’s not sure what’s so awesome about his drawing. You can barely even tell it’s Mike.

“Um, yeah,” Mike stares, like this is obvious or something. “You can totally tell it’s me! No one else in our class can draw this good. You should do it more. I think you could get, like, famous or something.”

Will doesn’t know about all that, but something warm and fuzzy is swelling up inside him anyway. Surprised and pleased at the praise. “Oh. Thanks, Mike.”

“I wish I made you something,” Mike says sadly, still staring down at the card, like he’s trying to absorb it with his eyes. “My mom just made me get the ones from the store for everyone.”

“It’s okay!” Will smiles. Really, he doesn’t need a card from Mike. He’s just happy Mike liked it.

“You can have my Reese’s,” Mike offers. He doesn’t fold the card up and put it in his pocket like Will thought he might, but holds it carefully in both hands and looks over at him, eyes wide. “Someone gave me one for our candy exchange, but I think you like them more than me.”

Will grins. “Okay!”

Mike hesitates, then suddenly, moves forward and throws his arms around Will’s shoulders. It’s sudden enough for Will to stumble backwards, a little caught off-guard by the puffy weight of Mike’s jacket and body against his. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Will,” Mike says. “You’re my best friend too.”

#oh this was so fun #unexpectedly hard but in the best way #i don't know how to write little kids #i'm so scared of making them sound too baby #but hopefully !! this was good #thank u sm for this prompt andi it was so so so cute #happy valentine's day i love u much #mwah <3 #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #miwi #fun sized fics #fic #ok byebye #/astro posts

[possessionisamyth]

Genuinely a shame that resident evil doesn't really go into food that much, but I also completely understand since the "food" you see being eaten 99% of the time is people and rot. However, this will not stop me from food related headcanons, so lets talk about eating traits for the recurring (3 or more separate RE appearances) cast:

Chris Redfield- Never been a picky eater. Before RE5, he pretty much let his metabolism do all the work along with his "stay in shape" workout regimen, so he ate whatever he wanted and most of the time it was junk food, fast food, and meals with a lot of bread and potatoes. When he started working out more, his diet shifted to eating more fats and proteins since they give him a steady flow of energy instead of quick bursts. It doesn't mean he's stopped eating junk food or eating out. His palette simply changed from eating bags of chips and a roll of cookies everyday to maybe a large bag or two of chips and a large pack of cookies that he slowly finishes over the span of a few weeks. Beer and water are interchangeable depending on the meal.

Jill Valentine- She's the pasta person that will use a fork and a spoon underneath to twirl her noodles before eating them. Loves anything covered in a good savory sauce, and she will tear bits of bread off to swipe the rest of her plate clean. She prefers chicken over beef and pork over tofu. Entered a hot wing eating contest once on a dare, and she lost, but she made sure to find out what hot sauce they used so she could keep a bottle in her pantry. She drinks a lot of water, and she likes the taste of it. Not a fan of tea unless it's iced and sweetened heavily. Otherwise not really a fan of sweets when it comes to candy or baked goods unless there's some tartness or sourness to it.

Rebecca Chambers- Her diet leans more into foods she doesn't need utensils to finish like sandwiches, wraps, tacos, and the classic pizza fold with thin crust. She has a sweet tooth, but this is mainly for drinks and hard candies. She loves soda. She doesn't like how gummy candy sticks to her teeth due to the texture. Baked sweets are okay as long as they aren't super sticky to handle, but she'll make an exception for things which have a heavy amount of chocolate. She has a bag of mini-muffins on her desk for breakfast in the mornings. People know not to take any unless they desire her wrath. She knows when Chris has eaten them when she see's a package of snack cakes and an apology post-it note in her drawer.

Barry Burton- Before the gun incident, Barry was the guy who ate primarily meats and very little vegetables unless his stomach was fighting him. After the incident, he opened up his palette more to show he appreciated the hard work put into the meal. Ask him what his favorite food is and his answer changes every time cause it's always what his wife cooked for dinner the night before. He's a dinner guy. He's either too tired in the mornings or too in a rush to go to work, so breakfast is a no-go, but dinners are spent with his family, and post Revelations 2, he cherished them even more. Only drinks water from the tap.

Albert Wesker- Eats expensive looking food because it has the least amount of mess during consumption, and is an ego boost to his god complex wherein everything has to be prepared exactly to his taste. If during his time with S.T.A.R.S they managed to drag him out to eat, he would get a drink and nothing else. He doesn't like limp vegetables no matter how much dressing people cover them in to compensate, and he hates greasy food. His taste towards sweet things are minimal. He enjoys sweeter cheeses like cream cheese or mascarpone, and he tried to like tiramisu, but he didn't like how soft angel fingers are. He will also only eat macarons with a dark chocolate filling sandwiched between. Neutral about water and enjoys teas and wines.

Claire Redfield- Was the pickiest eater as a kid. Hated it when the food on her plate touched, or the juice from one part of her meal touched the other. She had the special disposable plates where each part of her meal was separated so that she'd actually finish the food she was given. She was also disgusted with canned vegetables. As an adult most of those hang-ups are gone. She'll eat almost anything now, and she loves trying new foods from the places she travels to. Flatbreads are her best friend. Pita, naan, chapati, and so on, she can make a meal out of bread and butter alone. She still hates canned vegetables, but she buys fresh or frozen vegetables and incorporates them into her meals where she can. She also hates the taste of water. She'll go for coffee or tea first.

Leon Kennedy- Allegedly is relaxed with all foods except when there's one thing on it he doesn't want to eat. No pickles on his burger. No red onions in his guacamole. No sliced fruit in or on his cake. It's not even that he hates these ingredients or has a texture discrepancy. He just has preferences on where they should be and where they shouldn't. He'll put those same pickles on his club sandwich, or ask for red onions on pizza, and he loves a good fruit pie. He also eats so many of those pre-packaged fruit cups. Neutral about regular water but treats flavored sparkling water like a treat and sometimes hides it in his flask. It's a fun prank to play on Claire.

Ada Wong- Eats more vegetarian style meals, but is not a vegetarian. This isn't done on purpose or for any particular reason. Simply a lot of the meals she favors tend to have an equal amount of vegetables and grains to a lower amount of meat, and some cooks are much more scarce on the meat than others. This resulted in a palate shift where she's fine if there isn't meat on her plate. She's not a big fan of greasy, deep-fried foods, but her guilty pleasure is shrimp toast, and she only has it off the clock when she finds someone who makes it well. Her other guilty pleasure is cinnamon sugar donuts, and she has that more often as a snack to finish off her lunch. Neutral about water and has an iced coffee preference.

Ingrid Hunnigan- She likes rice more than bread and will eat several bowls of rice with whatever the main food is if they go together. Seasoned and spiced long grain rice or plain sticky short grain rice, she'll enjoy them all as long as it's prepared correctly. Loves eating tofu. She'll trade any meat for tofu except for seafood. She's the one ordering surf and turf or the dish with shrimp in it if the option is available. Yet, she cannot eat anything with a face. She doesn't care how pretty the presentation is, there shouldn't be a shrimp or lobster head on her plate when she gets it. She always orders dessert unless she's eating with others, and likes anything cherry flavored. Enjoys drinking water and has to drink water between her energy drink refills.

Thanks for getting to the bottom of this even if you don't agree with any of them! I'll gladly do more of these for any other RE characters if asked, and I'm open to playful debate/convo about the ones listed or not listed.

#resident evil #re #chris redfield #jill valentine #rebecca chambers #barry burton #albert wesker #claire redfield #leon kennedy #ada wong #ingrid hunnigan #headcanons

[six-white-venus]

if you ever see him, there is just one thing you would like to ask him:

how do i forgive?

because you've been trying, lord knows you have. it's been a year. he never loved you. it's as easy as that. why can't it be as easy as that?

you recently came across a letter you wrote him after he left, one where you're begging him to come back. you tore the paper copy into shreds a long time ago, but this one must have escaped your notice. you remember his response to the message. a thumbs-up emoji.

"whose name will i call, a thousand times over?" it said, "who will I call my love, my love, my love- exasperated, scandalised, laughing? who will I call?"

it's been a year and you know the answer to that question, more or less. no one. you will call no one. you will sit and stare at the paint peeling off your wall, that ugly, powdery blue that has started making your skin crawl. you will sit on the cold kitchen floor till your mom pulls you to your feet and brings you tea. you will call no one. you will make yourself forget.

except, it's not that easy.

he pops up in every mundane aspect of your life. the other day you found a keychain you bought him a month before his birthday, a month before he left you. you give it to someone else because why waste money? it's not like he lives in it.

(but he does, he does, he does.)

he is dating someone you used to know. you don't care. you want to throw up. you just want to ask: how do I forget?

a friend recently asked you, "do you think you had a savior complex, when it came to him?" you said you didn't, but maybe that's not the whole truth. maybe you did have some sort of twisted need to save him in every single way possible just so that he'll love you.

i would help you stitch yourself up. i swear i won't scream when you gut me like a fish. i will feed you soup and keep you warm. i won't sob when you knock my portion to the floor. you bleed. i do, too. no, you're right. i don't bleed as you do. I'll never understand. i am so sorry. i love you. do you love me?

after a week, you receive two texts:

lol kys ily <3

you are so happy you could sob.

he does none of this now, apparently. he smiles instead of smirking. he cradles things. he tends to wounds. he calls her baby. he says, "I love you so much." the whole thing, all spelled out. how crazy is that?

and you just want to ask: how do I stop caring?

he always held you between his teeth. there was nothing gentle about it. the bite marks on the back of your neck still hurt and you could swear it still bleeds. your mom says you're imagining it. you must be.

but here's the thing! you have people who hold you in their arms now. they are so gentle, so careful with you. you didn't cry, not once, under the clutch of his canines but now in their arms, all you do is cry. it's so strange. and you really are happy. it's so much better than what it used to be. you wake up and he's not the first thing you think of, not anymore. you dream that he apologises to you (you forgive him every single time). you go to therapy. you don't remember the last time you cried over him. you are loved, but not by him. you never were.

it doesn't matter, because you know what love feels like now. it is popcorn and nacho cheddar cheese seasoning and mutton curry. it tastes like tea and chips in an orange package and instant noodles you made with your best friend the day before she left for college. you know love now. you know happiness.

but in moments like these, you can't stop yourself from thinking that if you see him again, you would like to ask him one last thing:

how do you stop missing being held between one's teeth?

#my writing #prose poetry #words #writeblr #heartbreak #how does one move on when there was never a proper end? #when there wasn't even a beginning? #inspired by that one inkskinned poem

[cindersfireplace]

4town Valentine's Day 💘

Jesse, Taeyoung, Aaron T, and Aaron Z walk through the hallway to their hotel room after taking a stroll around the neighborhood:

Taeyoung: There's nothing like bird watching on a calm afternoon.

Aaron T: I'm just glad there was an ice cream truck. That was one of the best chocolate cones I've ever had. Thanks for helping me chase it down Z.

Aaron Z: *walks behind him exhausted* Anything for you buddy 😊

Jesse: You good Z?

Aaron Z: *gasping * Yeah when I catch my breath next week I'll be able to function again 😮‍💨

Jesse: I wish Robaire came with us. It's good to get outside once in a while.

Taeyoung: I'm sure he has his reasons.

*Jesse opens the hotel room door*

Jesse: Yeah probab- sweet cheese and crackers! What's all this!?

*The room is decorated with heart, banners, balloons, pillows, roses, and LOTS of candles*

❤️🌹🕯️🕯️🕯️

Robaire: Welcome home my friends! I thought I would put up some decorations for Valentine's Day. *Sigh* Love is in the air.

Aaron Z: I didn't know love smelt like *sniffs* vanilla and *picks up a candle* … Late winter breeze. Whatever the heck that smells like.

Jesse: We were gone for like an hour? How?

Robaire: I'm very efficient when I'm passionate about something.

Taeyoung: So that's why Jess is always yelling at you to do your taxes.

Aaron Z: Were you not efficient enough to get any cookies or candy?

Robaire: That will be for the gift exchange.

Aaron T: Why can't we just buy cards?

Robaire: Because first of all the 4town best friend Valentine's super special gift yearly extravaganza exchange -

Aaron Z: I still say we should shorten the name.

Robaire: -is a time to appreciate each other's gifts and is a testament to how well we know each other. I love giving gifts and I put a lot of thought into them.

Jesse: And I very much still appreciate those custom ‘Art Dad’ oven mitts, but shouldn't we be focusing on our gig that day? The 4townies are so excited to see us perform One True Love live for the first time next week, and after the show I want to go to bed.

Robaire: Then go right to bed on another day of the year but you have to be there for the opening of gifts. Besides we've already drawn names for it so no going back now.

Jesse: Fiiiine if I must.

Robaire: That's the spirit.

Jesse: Uh I think a spirit is what we'll be if all of these candles stay lit. This is most definitely a fire hazard. I'm only agreeing if I get to put half of them out.

Robaire: Fiiiine. If I must.

Aaron T: We've known each other for a while shopping for each other should be easier. Right Z?

Aaron Z: Totally….

*Skip to the day before Valentine's Day at the mall*

Aaron Z: …Not.

Jesse: Come on Z it'll be fine.

Aaron Z: Not when I'm shopping for Robaire it won't. I don't know what to buy and he's definitely gonna try to one up us with his amazing gift.

Jesse: Does anything else in this world motivate you quite like your need to be better than Robaire?

Aaron Z: Absolutely, this is just a continuous priority of mine.

Jesse: So no then. Got it.

Aaron Z: I will search through every isle of this mall if it kills me. I will be victorious.

Jesse: Or you could breathe and let it go…and he's gone. Valentine's is gonna be fun.

*The next day*

Taeyoung: That must have been our best performance yet! Everybody was so excited, and despite my mild fear of heights trying to convince me otherwise, the rising heart platforms weren't so bad after all.

Robaire: Told you it would be incredible!

Jesse: Anyways now that that's over we can open gifts now.

Aaron T: Yeah guys the sooner we get this over with the sooner old man Jesse can take his nap.

Jesse: I'm not ol-

Aaron Z (whispering to Aaron T) You just want to get candy from your gift don't you?

Aaron T (whispering back): Shhhh I just care about Jesse's health…and my blood sugar.

Robaire: Anyways, who wants to go first?

Taeyoung: Me! I got T! Here you go! *Shoves present box into his hands*

Aaron T: YESSS! *Opens package* *gasp* It's a book of skateboard tricks! These are some of the most advanced out there and….a box of chocolate. Thankyou *hugs Taeyoung and whispers* This is why your my favorite.

Taeyoung: No problem at all.

Aaron T: So I guess it's my turn to give and I got Jesse *gives him a very messily wrapped package with 50 bows on it*

Jesse: Geez this looks interesting *opens the box* *gasp* ITS THE SUPER SMOOTH 3000! I've been trying to find this blender for months! My fruit smoothies will be so much better now! Thank you *lifts Aaron T off the ground in a hug*

Aaron T: Your *cough cough* welcome. Could you please put me down now?

Jesse: *Drops Aaron T* I'm next and I got Taeyoung. So here you go?

Taeyoung: *Carefully takes the box from his hand and opens it* Woah! Bird watching goggles! They even have little doves on them! Thanks Jess. I'm gonna have so much fun taking these to the park.

Jesse: I'm so glad you like them. They were some of the best I could find.

Aaron Z: I guess Robaire and I are last. You can go first Ro 😊

Robaire: No, I insist. You go first 😁

Aaron Z: Well this day means the most to you so you should go 😊

Robaire: And I like to share that joy with my friends so you should go 😁

Aaron Z: You.

Robaire: You.

Aaron Z: YOU.

Robaire: YOU!

*While these two keep going back and forth Taeyoung and Aaron T give each other a look and then open the presents themselves (whilst Jesse has too little sleep in him to deal with this)*

Taeyoung: Wow Robaire this is a really nice Destiny ‘s Child record.

Robaire: That's the exact one we listened to when we first met 🫢

Aaron T: Dang Z you got this cool basketball trophy. It even says ‘best basketball player I know ‘. Nice Sentiment.

Aaron Z: That was one of the first things I told you that I dreamed of receiving 😯

*They hold the gifts in their hands for a moment appreciating them*

Aaron Z: *clearly struggling* Th-th-th-

Robaire: Are you trying to say thank you?

Aaron Z: Nah I'm trying to say ‘That's all folks’. Yes I'm trying to say thankyou. Anyways thank you … for … this.

Robaire: Then I guess I want to say thank you too…I guess.

Jesse: Awww this is too sweet.

Aaron T: Maybe it wasn't about who got the best present after all?

Robaire: Mhm. Even though we all know it was me.

Aaron Z: Wh- if anything it was me!

Robaire: No you didn't!

Aaron Z: I got you the record that you sorry self was too BROKE for when we first met!

Robaire: I got you a CUSTOM TROPHY 🏆! Do you know how much that is in this economy?!

Aaron Z: But did I ask-

Robaire: But my-

Aaron Z: No but Robaire answer the question. Answer the question! Did I ask though? Did I?

Robaire: No but you can't just throw that in my face when I'm trying to be nice.

Aaron Z: Clearly not nice enough to admit I'm better…

*Senseless arguing continues in the background*

Jesse: T! They were this 🤏🏻 close to having a nice moment.

Aaron T: Sorry, I was just trying to bring some positivity.

Taeyoung: I'm positively sure they will be arguing for a while so I'm just gonna go now.

Jesse: Agreed. *yawn* 🥱 I'm going to sleep.

Aaron T: And I shall consume all this chocolate within the hour. I love Valentine's Day!

*Later that night Aaron Z and Robaire go to bed setting their gifts down on their night stands smiling at them and then turning the lights out to sleep*

❤️

#Happy Valentine's Day 4townies #Hope this is a nice and remember to love yourselves #(Seriously Robaire has a problem he lit like 48 separate candles) #I guess this could also serve as a Christmas special if you change the holiday a bit #Sorry if it feels rushed (which could just be a flaw in my writing) I made this literally the day before Valentine's Day #Anyways I'm gonna go eat candy now #4town #4townie #4town aaron t #4town aaron z #4town jesse #4town robaire #4town taeyoung

[phdmama]

Drarry vignette, ~580 Words, G gentle reminder, I prefer that people do not extend or finish my vignettes without talk to me first! Thank you so much!

From the Soft™ fic prompt meme: ‘it made me think of you.’

The pounding on his front door startles Harry so badly that he falls off the couch.

It’s one of those lovely early summer days, warm enough that he can have all the windows open but not so warm as to be uncomfortable. There’s a nice breeze, Harry had a particularly delicious sandwich for lunch, and he had, until this moment, been taking a lovely nap on his extremely comfortable couch.

How quickly life can change, Harry thinks mournfully. One moment you’re having a really good dream about cheese and the next moment you’re here, flat on your back on the dusty carpet.

There’s another round of pounding, so Harry sighs, gets to his feet, and goes to answer it.

Standing on his doorstep, looking particularly rageful, is Draco Malfoy, who shoves a large, lumpy, tabloid-wrapped package into Harry’s hands.

“Don’t make this into a thing,” he says mulishly, and then folds his arms and refuses to make eye contact.

Harry looks down at the package and then back to Draco, who’s now staring up at the sky as if it’s personally offended him.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said.” Malfoy sighs. “Don’t make this into a thing.”

“Um.” Harry wonders if he’s still asleep. “Do you want me to, err… Should I open this?”

“If you want,” Malfoy mutters, which clearly means yes, so Harry does, rips off the newsprint and tosses it behind him into the hallway.

It takes him a moment to understand what he’s looking at, but when he does, his breath catches in his throat.

“Malfoy,” Harry whispers and blinks rapidly. “What? How did you…”

“Pansy and I were antiquing,” which Harry knows actually means they were combing through the thrift shops at the far end of Diago, “and I saw it. It made me think of you.”

“How did you know?”

Several years ago, Harry’s flat had flooded, and he’d lost most of his possessions, including the leather motorcycle jacket he’d claimed from Sirius’ few belongings right after the war. Harry still has the motorbike, but he’d lost everything else. The jacket he’s is holding isn’t identical, but it’s so close, slightly battered black leather, heavy silver snaps and zippers. It’s even got the same deep crimson lining and the faintest whiff of masculine cologne. It’s not Sirius’s, it can’t possibly the same, but it’s close. Close enough.

Malfoy shrugs awkwardly. “I just remember hearing you talk about it one night at the pub. You were pretty upset.”

“Malfoy,” Harry begins, his mind spinning, “That has to have been five years ago.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrow. “I told you,” he says, and it’s weirdly threatening for someone in the midst of carrying out one of the kindest and most thoughtful gestures Harry’s ever been on the receiving end of, “you need to not make, like, a thing about this.”

Harry stares down at the jacket, rubs a thumb over the heavy buckle at the waist. Thinks some things over. Recalibrates some other things. Finally, he looks up and takes in the sight of Malfoy, cheeks flushed, hands in his pockets, chewing nervously on his lip. Malfoy, who remembered something important to Harry from years ago. Malfoy, who, Harry would bet, has been looking for a jacket like this ever since. Malfoy, on his doorstep, just to give him a gift, looking pissed off about it.

“Draco,” Harry says and Draco’s gaze snaps up to meet Harry’s own. Harry steps back, pushes the door open wider. “Do you want to come in?”

#my writing #tiny little vignette #Drarry vignette #the only way I know how to do fluff honestly #not really a microfic #but my own version of a microfic #sooc #aka not beta'd #if you enjoy'd I'd be so grateful for a reblog!

[arpmemething2]

Quotes from Firefly/Serenity Sentence Starters

Send one for my muse’s reaction.   Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

“Let’s go be bad guys!”

“Ten percent of nothin’ is … let me do the math here … nothin’ into nothin’ … carry the nothin’ … ”

"We’re crooks. If everything were right, we’d be in jail.”

"Nothing buys bygones quicker than cash."

“Like woman, I am a mystery.”

“Oh, I think you might wanna reconsider that last part. See, I married me a powerful ugly creature.”

“Every man there go back inside or we will blow a new crater in this little moon.”

“Well, maybe I’m not a fancy gentleman like you, with your … very fine hat. But I do business. We’re here for business.”

"How can you say that? How can you shame me in front of new people?"

"Um, I’m trying to put this as delicately as I can…how do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?"

"Go to blackout! We're being buzzed!"

"Well, I guess death will solve the issue to everyone's satisfaction."

"Everybody plays each other. That's all anybody ever does. We play parts."

“Did something just fly off my gorram ship?”

"You guys had a riot... on account of me? My very own riot?"

“We’ve done the impossible, and that makes us mighty.”

"It's been a big day, what with the abduction, and all."

"I'm not sure you'd be safe."

"Live with a man forty years. Share his house, his meals… speak on every subject… then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man."

“Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!”

"Seems like a lovely little community of kidnappers."

"Maybe. Or maybe you're exactly where you ought to be."

“Can we maybe vote on the whole murdering people issue?”

"If you take sexual advantage of her, you will burn in a very special level of hell. The kind they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater."

"Go play with your rainstick."

"Don't make yourself sick."

���Mercy is the mark of a great man.”

"I don't suppose you'd find it up to the standards of your outings. More conversation, and somewhat less... petty theft and getting hit with pool cues."

"You gonna give us what's due us and every damn thing else on that boat. And I think maybe you gonna give me a little one-on-one time with the misses."

"I cannot abide useless people."

"Mmm. You missed a spot."

“Man walks down the street in a hat like that, you know he’s not afraid of anything … ”

"This is the place. We'll buy you the time."

“Also? I can kill you with my brain.”

“Psychic, though? That sounds like something out of science fiction.”

"It’s not embarrassing to be a virgin. It’s simply one’s state of being."

"That's why I never kiss 'em on the mouth."

"I been waiting for you to kiss me since I showed you my guns."

"I'll be in my bunk."

"They don't like it when you shoot at 'em. I worked that out myself."

"Drunks are so cute."

“Going on a year now, nothins twixed my neathers not run on batteries.”

"He's not wildly interested in ingratiating himself with anyone, yet he's very protective of his crew. It's odd."

"How we treat our dead is part of what makes us different…than those did the slaughtering."

“The important thing is the spices. A man can live on packaged food from here ’til Judgment Day if he’s got enough rosemary.”

"I think you have a problem with your brain being missing."

"Okay! Everybody not talking about sex, in here. Everybody else, elsewhere."

“First rule of battle, little one … don’t ever let them know where you are.”

“Terse? I can be terse. Once, in flight school, I was laconic.”

"Don't you just love this party? Everything's so fancy and they have some kind of hot cheese over there!"

"I hate to bring up our imminent arrest during your crazy time, but we gotta go."

“I don’t think of myself as a lion. You might as well, though, I have a mighty roar.”

"You can't open the book of my life and jump in the middle."

"I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar."

“I aim to misbehave.”

"Live with a man forty years. Share his house, his meals… speak on every subject… then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man."

"Every man there go back inside, or we will blow a new crater in this little moon."

“You know what the chain of command is? It’s the chain I go get and beat you with until you understand who’s in ruttin charge here.”

“I cannot abide useless people.”

"I I ever kill you, you’ll be awake, you’ll be facing me, and you’ll be armed."

"You are very much lacking in imagination.”

"Call me if anyone interesting shows up."

"Very well-bred petty crook knows that the small concealable weapons always go to the far left of the place setting."

"This must be what going mad feels like."

"You don't seem to be lookin' at the destinations. What you care about is the ships, and mine's the nicest."

"Remember that sex we were planning to have, ever again?"

"Someone's carryin' a bullet for you right now, doesn't even know it. The trick is, die of old age before it finds you."

“If anyone gets nosy, just …you know … shoot ’em. “

“WHOO-HOO! I’M RIGHT HERE! I’M RIGHT HERE! YOU WANT SOME O’ ME?! YEAH YOU DO! COME ON! COME ON! AAAAAH! Whoo-hoo!”

"I'll do anything you want me to. You know how I can make you feel."

"I need this man to tear all my clothes off."

“Someone ever tries to kill you, you try to kill ’em right back!”

"Sorry to interrupt, folks, but y'all got something that belongs to us, and we'd like it back."

“Next time you want to stab me in the back, have the guts to do it to my face.”

“I’ve been under fire before. Well … I’ve been in a fire. Actually, I was fired. I can handle myself.”

“I’ve been out of the abbey two days, I’ve beaten a lawman senseless, I’ve fallen in with criminals. I watched the captain shoot the man I swore to protect. And I’m not even sure if I think he was wrong.”

“In the maiden’s home, I heard talk of men who weren’t pleased with their brides…”

"Got your next heist planned?"

"It's good to be home."

"She still has the advantage over us."

"Do you know what the definition of a hero is? Someone who gets other people killed."

"Yeah, but she's our witch."

“We’re not gonna die. We can’t die. You know why? Because we are so very pretty. We are just too pretty for God to let us die.”

"Can you stop her from bein’ so cheerful?"

“How did your brain even learn human speech?”

“Yes sir, Captain Tightpants!”

"You are such a boob."

"You don't need strength as much as speed. We're fragile creatures. It takes less than a pound of pressure to cut skin."

"Your mouth is talking. You might wanna look to that.”

"You guys always bring me the very best violence. "

"Every problem is an opportunity in disguise."

“We got some local color happening. A grand entrance would not go amiss.”

"I'm assumin' y'all were listenin'? Did you hear us fight?"

"I... I threw up on your bed."

"I swallowed a bug."

"I'm... trying to think of a way for you to be cruder. I just... it's not coming."

"It sounds like the finest party I can imagine getting paid to go to."

“Now I did a job. I got nothing but trouble since I did it, not to mention more than a few unkind words as regard to my character so let me make this abundantly clear. I do the job. And then I get paid.”

"I said you're a coward and a piss-pot. Now what are you gonna do about it?"

"You paid money for this, sir? On purpose?"

“I swear by my pretty floral bonnet, I will end you.”

“Well, we may not have parted on the best of terms. I realize certain words were exchanged. Also, certain… bullets.”

"You were truthful back in town. These are tough times. A man can get a job, he might not look too close at what that job is. But a man learns all the details of a situation like ours... well... then he has a choice."

"So you had to be naked?"

"So… are you enjoying your own nubile little slave girl?"

"Just keep walkin', preacher-man."

"We crashing again?"

“No power in the verse can stop me.”

"I know something ain't right."

“‘Course, there’re other schools of thought.”

"Can't miss a place you've never been."

"Tell me I'm pretty."

"Physical appearance doesn't matter so terribly. You look for compatibility of spirit. There's an energy about a person that's difficult to hide.You try to feel that."

"Can we fly somewhere with a beach?"

"What gives you the right to put her in a dangerous situation like this?"

"I think I've been kidnapped."

"Money wasn't good enough."

“Well, my time of not taking you seriously is coming to a middle.”

"Is it bad that what she said made perfect sense to me?"

"See, morbid and creepifying, I got no problem with, long as she does it quiet-like."

"What was that?"

"Well, you were right about this being a bad idea."

"Haven't you killed me enough for one day?"

"You save his gorram life, he still takes the cargo."

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Merry & Bright"

Part 4 - Package Deal

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: a/b/o, omega Bucky, alpha Steve, kids/domestic, fingering, anal sex, knotting, multiple orgasms, Voicing, claiming bites, D/s elements, mentions of PTSD, mentions of depression, postpartum, body insecurity, breastfeeding, mpreg, pet names

Word Count: ~7000 (I'm sorry, okay?!😫)

Summary: Steve and Bucky make love for the first time since the birth of their son.

(Or: a prime example of how even my sincere attempts at g-rated domestic kid fics devolve into 6000+ words of smut 🤦🏻‍♀️)

[“You want to know what it looks like?” Steve growls, pulling back with a filthy-wet sound and a voice that’s furious and rough-edged and determined. “It looks like the cunt of the omega who gave me my children. Looks like the cunt I wanna spend the rest of my life fucking, stuffing full of my cock, my cum, my knot … my tongue.”]

(Wait! I haven't read part 1, 2, 3 yet!)

Steve appears in the doorway to their bedroom after putting the girls to bed. “ ‘And the children were nestled all snug in their beds’ ,” he recites, making Bucky chuckle softly.

“ 'blah blah, something about a long winter’s nap' .” (Which doesn’t sound bad at all to him right about now.) “That took a while," he says, stifling a yawn against the top of Gabe’s head. “They didn’t get their hands on any sugarplums at that party, did they?”

Steve shakes his head. “Naw. Crackers and juice.”

“Juice has sugar.”

“They’re fine. Reading got ‘em down.”

“We still on Stuart Little?”

“Becs begged for an extra chapter,” Steve confirms, smiling from where he’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes full of affection as he watches Bucky feeding their son. “Did you have a nice time tonight, babe?”

Bucky winces first and lies second, so of course his ever-perceptive husband raises an eyebrow and waits him out for the truth. Bucky recounts the encounter with Karen and the other moms. “They wear me out,” he says, letting his eyes slip closed and his head dig back into the pillow that he’s got propped against the headboard. “Even when I promise myself I’m just gonna eat the food and not engage, somehow they draw me in. They have that knack.” 

“Eh. They’re just a bunch’a cotton-headed ninny muggins.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah well I’m not too far off from ‘em.” He feels Gabe slowing down and trails his fingers through the boy’s wispy hair. “Here I thought it was last week instead of this week. Seven full calendar days off track.”

“Babe, it happens.”

“Hm. No it doesn’t. But you’re sweet for saying so.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Neurologist said I’ve got too much white matter, now.”

“Yeah, and he also said it isn’t getting any worse. Lots’a people have brain injuries and manage to live perfectly fine lives.”

Bucky doesn’t miss how Steve substitutes the word ‘fine’ for ‘normal’, and his lips twist wryly. “I know. It’s just, all this time I’ve been blaming it on pregnancy brain, but that'd be wearing off by now.” He groans with his eyes still closed. “Swiss cheese for brains, Stevie, I swear.”

Steve makes a sad tut of disapproval from the doorway. Bucky stubbornly doesn’t open his eyes, but he can hear the soft sounds of Steve padding across the room, then the bed dipping by his side as he slides in next to him. “You’re doing great, Sweetheart,” he encourages.

Despite how much Bucky disagrees with that assessment, he can still hear all the love and warmth in Steve’s voice, can tell that his husband sincerely means it when he leans in and kisses his ear, lips and breath lingering at the craggy, mutilated top. It’s one of the ways that Steve has always silently said ‘I love you’ to Bucky when he knows the omega is in a bad mood, and it somehow manages to worm its way past his churlishness each and every time. “Thanks, Babe,” he mutters.

Steve wiggles in to sit beside him, hip to hip, mindful of Bucky and the baby and not upsetting Gabe’s feeding time. “... Did something else happen today? You seem, I dunno, burdened.”

“I am. I mean I’m just fucking tired, but yeah.”

His hand appears on top of Bucky's thigh. “Tell me?”

Bucky sighs. “Just my emotions goin’ haywire. Hormones. I went jogging and cried in the park.”

“Baby,” 

Steve never likes to hear that Bucky’s unhappy, which is the main reason why Bucky avoids mentioning it. He’s got a therapist for that shit, after all. “Eh, it was brief. I got over it. But then I realized the play was tonight and I had to scramble to get the girls' costumes together; and right before that, I had to do battle with this snotty little beta at the pharmacy just to try and get my prescription filled, so that didn’t help.”

“What?”

Bucky ruefully recounts the incident with his birth control medication and the new FDA regulations, and Steve starts to rumble angrily in his chest before the story is halfway through. Bucky opens his eyes to see his Alpha looking all indignant on his behalf. His lips quirk. “Easy there, Big guy.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve growls. “I didn’t know there was any kind of legislation like that being considered.”

Steve’s unhappy scent is making Gabe start to pull away, and Bucky rubs the infant’s back. “Calm down. You’re making him squirm.” Steve grumbles but tries to obey, and Bucky relaxes when he feels Gabe go searching for another latch. “I dunno Steve. Things are changing, and I see the signs and it just scares the crap outta me.” 

“What do you mean, ‘changing’?”

“Just ... the little things," he mumbles, knowing that there's a chapter in his book called that, and that Steve probably remembers it, too. Bucky shrugs, avoiding Steve's concerned stare. "A couple of years ago, people weren’t talking so much about church. Now everybody’s back to talking about gender roles all the time.”

“People are allowed to have religion, Buck.”

“It’s not just that. It’s people’s attitudes changing, their whole approach. It scares me. People didn’t used to always be talking about what was ‘decent’ or what was ‘allowed’ on this platform or that. Purity culture, moral absolutism; those things were on the decline, ya know? People didn’t criticize working mothers as much. Omegas didn’t wear their collars in public like it's some sort of fashion statement. 'Tradwives' weren’t trending on TikTok. … Abortion was protected.”

“It’s still protected,” Steve argues. 

“Here it is,” Bucky says peevishly, because they both know about each and every issue that’s been kicked back to the states in recent years. “It’s how fast everybody forgets. Now those bumper stickers are coming back in vogue again, Jesus fish lapel pins. Hell, it’s even normal to launch a friendly chat with a chipper little ‘where do you fellowship?’ They’re banning books all the time—”

“In schools, not public libraries,” Steve interrupts, then hurriedly adds, “I’m not defending it, Buck. I’m just saying there’s a difference.”

“There’s a difference until there’s not a difference,” he snaps. Then, after a beat of fraught silence between them, he whispers, “Please tell me it’s not happening again, Steve.”

“Hey.” Steve shifts beside him, putting an arm behind his back to pull him closer against his side. He kisses the top of his head. “No, Buck. We’ve got intelligence agencies to fight against that, now. That’s what Shield is for. It’s what I do. You’ve gotta know I’d never let you or the girls—the kids,” he hurriedly amends, not yet used to “the girls” no longer being an apt descriptor of their children, “get drawn into a situation like that again. I’d never let it happen, baby, never. You know we have an exit plan if things get bad.”

Bucky nods, swallowing thickly at the mere thought of it. “Yeah,” he whispers against Gabe’s head. He knows that Steve only put that plan together to help assuage Bucky’s lingering fears, his anxiety that never quite goes away completely. “Yeah. We can get out. We have a plan.” He’s whispering it to himself, vaguely recognizes the beginning feelings of a spiral, how his pulse is faster than it should be, audible in his ears, with dread pooling low in his gut like spoiled food.

He whimpers and pushes his nose against Gabe’s hair to soothe himself, inhaling the new baby smell that he still has. “We have a private jet,” he whispers, reminding himself, trying not to let his thoughts flash back to the memory of the retreating rear window of his mom’s car at a border crossing, his sisters’ faces pressed against the glass as they leave him behind in a country where he's not safe anymore …

“Untrackable Quinjet, fly to Canada,” he murmurs, trying to focus on five things that he can see, smell, feel, taste and hear … about Gabe, his son, his—

“Baby,” Steve is mourning by his side. He grips Bucky’s shoulder and gives him a comforting squeeze, which pulls Bucky’s vision back into focus from the panic attack he’d been about to fall into. Steve seems unaware of it. He’s still just cuddling him and talking platitudes in a low voice. “That’s not happening, okay? Things are fine, I promise you.”

Bucky nods, even though he can’t help but to worry, “Then why are people giving up their rights again?” he asks. “You know they’re expanding the Fertility Care Act.”

“I know. But that doesn’t take anyone’s rights away.”

“You know how I feel about it.”

“I know. I know babe. ‘Incentiv—”

“Incentivization is the first step to coercion!” Bucky finishes for him. “Yes. They’re prioritizing citizens who can have kids over ones who can't. How is that fair?!” 

Steve lowers his head. “It’s not.”

“And passing all these restrictive laws? Requiring my Alpha to cosign on my birth control? How can they do that?”

Steve sighs. “We’re still a democracy,” he says sadly. “People still have the right to vote for the policies they want, even if they’re not the same things that you and I want. We’re a self-determining society, babe. If they get enough support for it, enough votes … People still get to make these decisions.”

Bucky grunts. “Well they're making the wrong ones.”

Steve hums in agreement, giving him another squeeze. “Hey now, don’t think about that stuff. Relax with me tonight, that’s what I want.”

“Hmph.”

“You’re gonna turn the milk sour, you keep worrying like that,” he teases. “C’mere, grumpy.” He dips in and nuzzles against Bucky’s face to try and get a small smile out of him. It kind of works, and Steve hums happily when he feels him soften. “How’s Little man?” he asks, kissing Bucky’s temple and looking down at their son.

“Pretty sure he’s eating in his sleep,” Bucky murmurs. “And I’m about to be too.” 

“Mm. But you’re not eating.” 

“You know what I mean, dummy.”

Steve leans in and noses at his neck, scenting him affectionately. “You smell so good, momma. Smell like home, like mate.” Bucky makes a grumbling sound of complaint at the “momma” and Steve snickers and kisses him in apology. He cups his hand behind Bucky’s flesh one, intimately joining him in cradling their infant son’s head against Bucky’s chest. “Lookit that,” he purrs, and it’s not all innocence to his tone, as he stares at where Gabe is suckling. “I love to see you like this,” he murmurs. “Seeing you feeding him, giving him what he needs. Using that part of yourself for this.”

Bucky groans and lets his eyes fall closed again in mortification. “Steeve.” He feels Steve’s thumb start swiping back and forth on the back of his hand that's cupping Gabe's head.

“Shh. It’s true, momma.” Steve starts peppering kisses against the top of his shoulder as he watches Gabe nursing and Bucky blushing. He speaks softly between the kisses, murmuring intimate words of love against Bucky’s skin: “Love it. Love you. You don’t know what it does to me, to see you with him like this. Watching you takin’ care of him. Knowing that your gorgeous body can do this, can nourish him. The baby you made for me, my son.” His voice is rumbling again by the time he finishes, possessive, and he laces their fingers together and ducks in close to start mouthing at Bucky’s bonding glands—something which he knows turns Bucky on to no end, goddamn him. 

Bucky groans and whines. “Are you serious right now?” Steve’s laugh puffs out against his skin, warm and affectionate, and Bucky drops his head to try and hide the smile he can’t keep off his own face. “Damn you, Rogers.”

“Language, momma Rogers,” Steve purrs, which only serves to make the heat in Bucky’s face worse. “Let me put him down,” he murmurs, kissing Bucky’s neck one last time before moving forward to take Gabe. Bucky hands him over with a tired hum, letting his eyes slip closed again while Steve is gone. 

He’s surprised when he drifts off to sleep and the next thing he’s aware of is Steve crawling back into the bed with him. “Mmhh, I fell asleep.”

“I can see that.”

“He go down okay?”

“Yep.” Steve pulls him into his arms and lies down with him, kissing his forehead. “You make me so happy, Buck,” he whispers. He trails kisses down his face until he reaches his lips, then presses gentle pecks there until he’s able to coax his way inside for more. He makes out with him lazily, humming in pleasure as Bucky softens and starts to respond to it. He lets one hand roam his body, trailing up and down the omega’s side, then squeezing his waist. “You tired?” he whispers.

Bucky smirks with his eyes closed. “M’ always tired.”

Steve hums in agreement and kisses him some more. “He slept through the night last night.”

“Yeah. Don’t jinx it. Maybe we’ll get lucky again.”

“Want to fool around?” Steve murmurs, already kissing along his jaw towards his neck again. His big hands roam Bucky’s body, caressing his waist and circling behind to grab at his ass. “I miss you.”

Bucky sighs in pleasure, nodding. “I’m fucking tired,” he murmurs—very pointedly not a ‘no’—then shivers when Steve rolls over to cover him with his body, pressing one firm, thick thigh up between his legs. Bucky groans tiredly. “Ohh, Honey.”

“I’ll do all the work,” Steve promises, whispering the words against his neck in a conspiratorial way that makes Bucky chuckle. Steve kisses his bonding gland again. “Mmm, promise. You can just lie here and feel good.”

“Or fall asleep,” Bucky mutters, though as Steve presses his thigh down and rolls his hips, the odds of that happening significantly diminish. Bucky smiles with his eyes still closed and digs his skull back into the pillow, shivering full-body as he feels his dick waking up. “Mm, Stevie. Yeah. Make me feel good?”

“Course,” Steve whispers, before sealing his mouth over the sensitive tissue of Bucky’s bond scar. He hums in pleasure as he sucks hard, coaxing the gland underneath to swell and grow closer to the skin with arousal. He fits his teeth to the shape of it, biting in a quick, sharp nip that makes Bucky gasp. 

“Oh! Steve …”

“You remember what the doctor said,” he teases, scraping his teeth over the spit-wet skin. “Hm? ‘Bout the ways Alpha can help you feel good?”

“Ohh, mm hm.” Bucky’s O.B. and his therapist have told them that stimulation of the glands can help relieve some of the effects of postpartum depression—including regular sex and penetrating bites from a bondmate. They've tried the latter but not the former, but Steve has been more than keen on the idea of helping his omega in both ways.

“What do you say, baby?” he asks, licking and kissing all over his bond scar. “Hm? It's all healed up from last time. Can I?”

Bucky whimpers, weak from the rush of arousal that always comes at hearing Steve ask for this. “Nnn,” he whines uselessly, rolling his body up against the alpha’s bulk. “Ssteve,” he slurs, “Nnn, don’t.”

“Aw, why not?” he coos lazily, still mouthing at that spot. “It’ll feel good, I promise.” He moves up to whisper in Bucky’s ear: “I know how hard it makes you cum when I time it just right.”

Bucky moans pitifully. He tries to remember what his reason for protesting it is, but it’s hard. “It’s almost—oh! mmm—s’almost Thanksgiving. W-we, um … T-tony’s parties, n’ the Turkey Trot …”

Steve lets his teeth drag over the glands again. “Fuck the Turkey Trot. So what? I love seeing you fresh with my mark. And this way everyone else will too. They’ll see it and they’ll know you’re mine. Know I was probably fucking you while I did it, claimin’ you all over again.” His voice is rough and gravelly by the end, full of heat and possession. “You got any idea how much I like that?”

“Hnhh,” Bucky breathes, unable to argue against that reasoning. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” Steve purrs, eliciting another pathetic whine from his mate. Bucky can practically feel Steve’s satisfied grin as he continues to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, mouth never leaving his bonding glands for long. “Smell so fuckin’ good, mama,” he groans, and this time rather than protest the endearment, Bucky keens at the way Steve says it: like Bucky being the mother of his children is the sexiest, most wonderful thing imaginable. Steve keeps kissing a path down his neck and shoulder, over his collarbone and chest, stopping when he reaches the level of his pecs and sealing his mouth to a nipple—the same place where their baby was nursing not even ten minutes ago. 

Bucky shivers in sensitivity and blushes like a madman, his hands flying up to tangle in Steve’s hair. “Nnh, Steve, wait, oh …”

Steve groans and rubs his cheek against his chest, the drag of his facial hair and his hot breath making Bucky’s nipples harden into tight nubs. He brings a hand up to cup one swollen pec and mouths openly at the other, groaning as he stares greedily.  “Fuck, baby, look at you.”

“Steve,” Bucky pants. “Nnn,”

“Mm mn, no. Hush. Just let me play with ‘em.”

Bucky continues to whine about it, but a hardening dick and a leaking asshole don’t lie, and Steve knows him too well to let him get away with such shallow evasion at this point in their marriage.

He settles in for the long feast, humming and grunting in pleasure between kisses and sucks to Bucky’s chest, alternating sides and squeezing whatever he isn’t mouthing over at the moment. “God, baby,” he says between one kiss and the next. “Wish you’d stay like this. Love your body like this. So soft, just for me.”

“Fuck, Steve.”

“Mmhm. Could keep you like this forever. All needy and sensitive.” He traps Bucky’s nipple between his lips and sucks, hard, and Bucky feels that tingly sensation and knows what’s going to happen a second before it does. His hands fly to Steve’s head and he cries out, but there’s no time for him to warn his husband before his body lets out a tiny spurt of breastmilk. Steve only pauses for a second, his mouth still on him, and then he groans loudly against Bucky’s chest. He sucks again, huffing in enjoyment, then lifts up and meets Bucky’s gaze with lust-blown eyes. “Oh honey,” he whispers, sounding devastated. “I almost forgot how sweet you are.”

Bucky’s brain is kind of short circuiting at the sheen on Steve’s lips, wet from his very own breast milk. “Shit,” he exhales shakily. “Alpha.”

Steve growls and drops back down to suck on him some more. Bucky can only lie there and take it, his head tossing on the pillow and hands gripping Steve’s hair as the alpha makes a playground of his chest. Bucky whines and complains, but truth be told there’s something small and squirmy inside of him that secretly loves it when his husband indulges in his body this way. It makes him feel wanted and beautiful, reminds him that Steve loves every part of him, even when Bucky himself doesn’t. “Leave—aah—leave some for the baby,” he eventually manages to say, laughing between pleasured groans and gasps. 

Steve pulls off and comes up to kiss him, tongue swiping past Bucky’s lips and leaving the taste of himself behind. Bucky’s breathing shakily by the time they part, and Steve’s eyes flit over his face. “You okay?” he asks, so sincere in his care for Bucky that it makes Bucky want to give him everything. 

“Yes Alpha,” he whispers, reaching up with his flesh hand and cupping Steve’s jaw with it. “I just love you stupid-much, is all.”

“Stupid much?”

“Mm, yeah, it’s pretty stupid.”

Steve surges down to kiss him thoroughly once more “See?” he teases, knocking their foreheads together. “All that moping didn’t curdle the milk after all.” Bucky huffs and swats at him, and Steve grins and rolls away. “Hang on one sec.” He gets up to undress, and by the time he’s crawling back into bed naked, Bucky’s kicked off his pajama pants as well. Steve slides right back into the cradle of his hips. Between their bellies, his cock is hard, but he makes no move to address it, focused on his mate instead. “What do you want tonight?” he asks gently, tracing Bucky's face on one side and then the other. “Hm? We can do anything you want. Whatever makes you feel good.” 

Bucky softens, in love. That’s how it’s been these past four months: Steve being careful, trying so hard to respect any boundaries, to let Bucky take the lead as they find their way back to intimacy as husbands. Problem is, most days Bucky doesn’t know what he wants. He swallows thickly and rasps out a quiet, “I just wanna feel you.”

Steve hums. He tucks the recently-shortened strands of Bucky’s hair aside, eyes flicking from one ruined ear to the other, amazing Bucky with how his gaze never waivers with any hint of distaste at the mutilated flesh. It’s just love he sees in him. “I think that can be arranged.”

He kisses him, long and languid and indulgent, the kind of kiss that takes its time and never really escalates, more intimate than it has any right to be. By the time he’s kissing down Bucky’s body to put his mouth on his prick, Bucky’s a leaking, mewling mess. 

“Ssteve,” he slurs as he watches his husband’s blond head of hair dip down between his legs and feels his mouth engulf him in sudden, overwhelming warmth. “Oh God.” Bucky’s eyes slip shut and he digs his skull back into the pillow, exhaling through clenched teeth at how good it feels. Steve hums from around his mouthful and Bucky hurriedly grasps at his hair. “Nnn, don’t,” he hisses, trying to calm down even as his hips are shoving up at Steve’s face. “Don’t hum like that, Jesus Christ.”

Steve laughs and pulls off to look up at him. He kisses Bucky’s cockhead and winks. “Sorry. I was just enjoying myself.” Keeping eye contact, he suckles and laves over just the head of Bucky’s dick, then uses his hold at the base to tap it against the flat of his tongue several times. 

“Fuck.” Bucky pants and screws his eyes shut. “It’s been too long. I can’t hold it.”

“Who says you need to hold it?” Steve kisses his hipbone. “Cum as many times as you want to, Sweetheart. As many times as you need.”

Bucky groans. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“Maybe it is.” He goes back to Bucky’s cock, pushing hard at one of his thighs to force him to widen his legs even further. “There we go, good boy. Keep ‘em spread.” 

Bucky peeks down at Steve and sees him staring at … everything. 

Oh. … Oh.

He swallows nervously. It’s been over four months now, and he’s had the go-ahead from the doctor since all the way back at his six-week checkup, but Bucky’s still been self-conscious. They've resumed some recreational activities, but Steve still hasn’t asked to have sex yet. Bucky’s pretty sure he’s waiting for him to initiate. “H-how’s it looking down there?” he asks, trying to insert levity into his tone and failing pretty spectacularly. “Everything … everything good?” 

“Mmm.” Steve caresses his balls, pushing them up and out of the way, feasibly so that he can stare at his perineum and further back to his weeping, clenching hole. “It’s winking at me,” he says, making Bucky’s face go red hot.

“You know what I mean,” he huffs, knocking his heel against Steve’s back halfheartedly. “How’s it … how’s it look?”

Steve hums and pretends to consider it very seriously, moving in even closer. “Looks perfect,” he says, a touch more arousal in his voice this time. And he’s so close now that Bucky can feel the heat of his breath against his skin. Steve’s finger touches just behind his balls and glides all the way back along his taint, up and down, tracing the line of where Bucky knows the stitches were. “All healed up,” he murmurs, sounding pleased. “Pretty and pink.”

Bucky snorts and makes a face. “Yeah, right. Don’t worry Steve, I’ve read all the reality check articles.”

“The what?”

“Stuff on the internet for new mothers. On how wrecked you are after giving birth. They say it’s especially rough on male O’s, and I’ve popped two of these things out, so.” He grimaces. “I think they have like, lasers or something that they can use to try and fix it, or at least make it look nicer.”

“What?” Steve sounds shocked. “Babe. What are you talking about?”

Bucky huffs, not wanting Steve’s false platitudes. “I’m just trying to be realistic, okay?” He squirms impatiently and refuses to look down at the alpha between his legs. “So? Does it look like … ya know, very messed up?” 

Steve’s tensing shoulders and his low growl are the only warnings Bucky gets before his husband’s mouth is sealing itself straight over his taint and sucking ferociously, the accompanying rumble of his growl only intensifying the feeling.

Bucky yelps. “Holy fuck!” His body jolts in place, trying to bow off the bed, but Steve holds him still with strong arms wrapped around his thighs. “Sh-hit,” he gasps, “Steve!”

“You want to know what it looks like?” Steve growls, pulling back with a filthy-wet sound and a voice that’s furious and rough-edged and determined. “It looks like the cunt of the omega who gave me my children. Looks like the cunt I wanna spend the rest of my life fucking, stuffing full of my cock, my cum, my knot … my tongue.” He surges back in, taking turns between tongue-fucking his hole and sucking on his rim as brutally as he can, making loud grunts and groans in the process that are very clearly meant to drive a point home. “Mmph, mmm, hhmph!” 

Bucky gasps and keens, overwrought by Steve’s words just as much as he is by the feeling of his mouth. He doesn’t even consciously think about it as he grabs his cock and starts jerking off, Steve groaning loudly against his ass when he realizes what Bucky’s doing. It only takes another minute of that before he’s coming, riding Steve’s face as his cock pulses in his hand and wets up his belly in spurts of clear omega cum. 

“Oh God, oh, ohh …” His breath hitches in broken moans as he rides the orgasm out. Then the pleasure wanes and he slowly comes back down to earth, panting and dazed, blinking up at nothing but the blank plaster of their bedroom ceiling …

Until Steve reappears in his field of vision, having climbed back up to lie over him once again. Bucky welcomes the press of his alpha’s heavy body on top of him, accepts the slick-tinged flavor of Steve’s tongue when he slots their mouths together and shoves inside, demanding and harsh. “That was number one,” he says, when he’s pulled back and is looking down at Bucky with a satisfied expression. “How many more you gonna give me tonight?”

Internally, Bucky curses. He curses, dies a little bit, and falls deeper in love all at the same time. Meanwhile, externally, he regains his breath and meets Steve’s hungry stare. “I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna wear me out more than the baby,” he says, aiming for a wry drawl but only achieving something that sounds breathless and wrecked instead. He sees Steve’s eyes darken the way they do whenever he’s issued a challenge, and knows he’s in for a hell of a night. “What’re you thinking?” he whispers.

“I’m thinking: I want to see that again, and again,” Steve rasps, voice gone to gravel. “Thinking I want to watch you lose control like that all the goddamn time. For the rest of my life.”

Bucky flushes. “Steve …”

“I’m thinking: that I want to make you feel good in every possible way there is to feel good.” His lips ghost over Bucky’s as he murmurs, “So that you know. Because you clearly don’t—”

“Steve …”

“And so that you never feel like you need to ask me a question about what you ‘look like’ ever again. Not on any part of your beautiful body.”

Bucky groans and tries to turn his face away, But Steve catches him and guides him back with a gentle hand on his cheek. “Uh uh, Sweetheart. You listen to me. I want to make love to you. Until you can’t take it anymore, until you go soft and weak and cryin’ with it.” His hands start wandering over the peaks and valleys of Bucky’s body, caressing his skin. One hand moulds itself to the side of his neck, fingers playing over the texture of his bondmark, while the other glides down, pausing to stop and tweak a nipple, squeeze his waist, grab the fleshy curve of a hip. Very purposefully, he slides his hand to settle into place over his lower belly, hushing him when he feels him start to tense up. “Shh sh sh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Steve, I’m … it’s —”

“Shhh.” He nudges their noses together, chiding and affectionate all at once, because he knows which parts of his body Bucky is most self-conscious of. But he doesn’t move his hand from the territory it’s claimed. “I know,” he whispers. “I know how you feel. But that’s all wrong, baby. And I want to show you.” He kisses him again, only this time it’s tender, almost achingly so. He relents and pulls back. “That’s all, Honey. I just want to make you feel new things, good things. I want to show you. I need to show you.” 

“Show me what?” Bucky whispers, but then Steve stares down at him in that dark and private way that he deeply, intimately recognizes, and he regrets having asked. Bucky trembles and closes his eyes. “Steve, please. You don’t have to …” 

“Look at me,” Steve murmurs. He rests their foreheads together. “I just want you to understand, baby. That when I touch you here,"—his fingers curl possessively into the too-soft flesh of Bucky’s stomach—“I feel something so profound, so far beyond just love or arousal … that I don’t even know what to say to you. You understand? It hurts. I don’t have words for it.” He looks at him imploringly. “You couldn’t be more beautiful than you are to me right now.”

Bucky’s heart beats faster at the intimate confession. He tries to suck his stomach in, tries to tense his abdominals and make himself firm, but Steve tuts at him and pinches the side of his neck, right over his swollen glands. Bucky gasps, eyes shooting back up from where he’d been starting to look down between their bodies at Steve’s hand on him. “I wasn’t.”

“Look at me,” Steve says, and this time it’s in his Voice, the sound of it sending an instant shot of arousal down Bucky’s spine and into his core. His eyes must show it, too, because Steve smiles and purrs deep in his chest. “Yeah,” he encourages, still in the Voice that he so rarely uses with Bucky. “That’s right. Look up here at Alpha. Do as you’re told.”

Bucky licks his lips, aware that his cock is rapidly hardening again. “Steve,” he breathes shakily. “I —”

“Pull your knees up,” he murmurs, and Bucky obeys without a second thought. “Good boy.”

A chirp erupts from Bucky’s throat, unbidden, and he colors in surprise at the sound. “Alpha,” he says, because it’s the only word he can think to say.

Steve smiles and strokes over his bond mark with the roughened pad of a thumb. “Does it feel nice? Want more?”

Bucky nods, blinking, the effects of Steve’s Voice still singing in his veins like a drug. “Yeah.” 

They hardly ever engage in Voiceplay. It’s something Bucky enjoys with his husband, but he’s had bad experiences with other alphas in the past; times when men who weren't Steve assaulted him with what should only ever be used as a tool of lovemaking. Steve knows this, and so he usually avoids Voicing with Bucky unless he knows that the circumstances are just right.

The circumstances are just right. 

Bucky whimpers and reaches down impulsively to cover Steve’s hand where it rests on his belly, but not to pull it away. “Alpha,” he chirps again, fingers curling over Steve’s larger ones.

“This okay?” Steve checks, his eyes scanning his face for even a hint of discomfort. 

But he finds none, and Bucky nods his head in fast approval. “Yeah, yes.”

It’s still achingly vulnerable, having Steve touching this soft, imperfect part of him; but it’s intimate, too, and Bucky wants more of that. He wants Steve to make love to him this way, an Alpha with his omega—capital A, lowercase o.

“S’been so long,” he breathes, his voice hitching as his emotions finally catch up with him. Ridiculously, he starts to feel tearful. He’s missed having this with his mate so much. “So long, Stevie.”

“Baby,” Steve coos. “Don’t cry.”

Bucky sniffles shyly and tucks his face into Steve’s neck, feeling stupid. “Can’t help it,” he mumbles.

Steve’s fingers massage his bond mark and he kisses his temple soothingly. The hand that was on his stomach snakes around, dipping underneath his lower back and tugging them even closer together. “You gonna let me?” he asks. “Gonna let Alpha make you cum again and again?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? Gonna let me give you another bite, make it a good one? Mark you up again for everybody to see?”

Bucky whines and nods, drawing his knees up, wrapping his legs around Steve’s hips and tilting his pelvis to make himself available to his mate. “Please,” he begs. “Please, yes, Steve. I want it, please.”

Steve rumbles deep in his chest and slots their mouths together in a brief, aggressive kiss, then pulls back swiftly and manhandles him onto his belly, pulling him up by the hips into presenting. Bucky cries out in surprise but goes willingly, widening his knees on the bed and pushing his ass back into Steve’s groping hands. “Good boy,” Steve praises, Voice dipping down into that register that’s low and rumbly and lets Bucky know that his Alpha is very pleased with him.

Bucky grunts and wiggles happily until Steve’s hand appears at the back of his neck and pushes down: a wordless, forceful ‘Stay’ that makes him shiver and whine with impatience. “Nnnh.”

The hand flattens at his nape and slowly drags down the length of his spine, appreciative and greedy. “Aw, Sweetheart,” Steve breathes, hips rocking forward. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect, y’hear me?” He curses quietly as he digs his fingers into the fat of Bucky’s hips, watches his cock dragging through the wet valley of his ass. “Jesus wept, Honey. Lookit you. Wet dream come to fucking life, I swear.”

Steve only curses this much when he’s incredibly turned on, and the knowledge that it’s his doing has Bucky slicking up even worse than before. He whines and scrubs his face against the bedding as he feels his hole pulse and leak, the slick tickling as it trails down his taint and balls. “Steve,” he pleads, relieved when Steve grabs his hips and continues to take control.

“Shh, s’okay, you’re okay. I’m gonna give you what you need. Gonna take it slow.” His fingers appear at his backside, slipping through all the slick, wetting them up in him. He starts to press in with one finger. “Real slow,” he murmurs. He fucks him on just that one finger, for far longer than he would normally do, taking his time in Bucky’s body, in relearning this touch with him. Bucky makes a miserable noise against the bedsheets and Steve hums, pleased. “Yeah? How���s that feel, Sweetheart?”

Bucky whines and nods, his cheek dragging on the sheets. He feels Steve curling over him, his chest pressing up against his back and then the finger sliding deeper. Bucky moans as it grazes over his prostate. “Oh, God.”

“Uh huh.” Steve’s breath hits right at his ear. He plants his left forearm alongside Bucky’s, holding himself up as he fingers him. Right next to Bucky’s face, their pinky fingers hook together, flesh over metal. Steve kisses the shell of his ear and whispers, “Bucky, honey. You’re so swollen inside, I can feel it.” He strokes his finger, curling gently over that spot that makes Bucky’s vision go blotchy. “I want you to cum like this first,” he whispers. “On my hand a couple’a times. Right on Alpha’s fingers. Okay?”

Bucky sobs and nods. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Steve, please.” He can feel the orgasm coalescing already, the pleasure of Steve’s finger pulling him closer on every pass. “Please, please.”

“Shhh. Remember: slow,” he reminds him, and Bucky’s guts twist up in further delicious arousal and frustration. Steve doesn’t try to edge him, though. He lets him have it, working him up to it steadily, not rushing, kissing his neck again and again as he fucks him on one finger and then two.

That added fullness is what makes Bucky unravel, his body pulsing as he gasps and suddenly falls into his second orgasm.

Steve talks him through it, never stopping the whispered encouragements against his ear: “There we go. That’s it, baby, that’s it. So good.”

Bucky collapses to his stomach, and Steve follows him down, gently nudging his knees inside of Bucky’s to make a space for himself. Bucky complies, boneless from his climax. “Stevie,” he slurs. 

“Right here, baby.” He presses up all along his back, covering him with warmth. “I’m right here.” His hands slide up Bucky’s arms and cover his hands at either side of his head. Bucky moans quietly as Steve laces their fingers together and gives a squeeze. “Hey, gorgeous.” He rolls his hips, cock slotting into place. “You’re so wet.”

“Y-yeah.”

Steve rocks leisurely against him and Bucky hums at how slick it is, enjoying the intimacy of rubbing together full-body. He lets his eyes slip closed as he soaks it all in: Steve’s heavy weight, his scent, the scratch of his beard and the heat of his breath in the crook of Bucky’s neck. He wishes they could stay like this forever.

“You feel so good,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Sweetheart.” Steve drags his lips over the sensitive skin of his bondmark. “Can I fuck you, baby?” he asks softly. “You want that, hm? Want Alpha inside of you?”

Bucky is glad that Steve can’t see his face, because his eyes are wet from pleasured, overly-emotional tears, and this way he doesn’t have to bother being embarrassed over what a sap this pregnancy has turned him into. He nods and scrubs his cheek against the bedcovers. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, Steve. Please.”

Steve hums and kisses him once more, before he reaches down and lines his cock up, dragging the head wetly across his rim a few times with increasing pressure, until it catches. Bucky tenses, because it’s been so long since they’ve done this, and because the last event of real significance that involved his asshole had been childbirth, but Steve soothes him with a sucking kiss to his bondmark. “Relax,” he murmurs, pushing in at the same time and making Bucky gasp softly. “Shh, there you go. See?” 

“Ohh.” Bucky’s eyelids flutter as he’s slowly filled. “Steve.”

“Uh huh.” Steve’s hips kiss his ass as he sinks home all the way. “Juust like that,” he purrs, grinding against him and staying deep inside. “S’it feel nice?”

“Uh huh,” Bucky breathes, lips parted and eyes closed, brow furrowed at how full he is. “Yeah, Stevie … oh …” 

Steve chuckles and kisses his shoulder. “You feel amazing,” he whispers, before he experiments with moving a little more. He keeps pulsing his hips, rocking languidly, gradually building up to a slow pace.

He fucks him gently then, not pulling back to get on his knees or gain any kind of leverage. Instead he stays close, deep; plastered to his back and dragging his cock against his sensitive insides over and over so perfectly. When it pulls a tortured moan from Bucky's throat, Steve encourages him with soft, sucking kisses against his glands. “S’okay.”

“God, Steve.”

“Uh huh. Juust like that. I remember how you like it. Alpha's got you, baby.” Steve sounds like he’s getting close, too, voice laboured as he grunts against Bucky’s neck. “You gonna, ugh, gonna cum again, mamma?”

Bucky whines and nods. “This time,” he begs. “Please, please. Do it.”

The two of them share a bond, and that’s probably the main reason why Steve’s able to tell what he means.

He doesn’t disappoint, either, fucking him smoothly right into another orgasm and timing it perfectly. As soon as Bucky’s body goes rigid and his breath stutters in his throat, Steve’s biting down hard over his bondmark, breaking the skin and piercing the swollen glands beneath. Bucky sobs and comes harder and longer than he has in a long time, crying from how impossibly good it feels.

It’s compounded by the sudden groan that Steve lets out and the rapid inflation of his knot, as the bite sets him off as well: “Nngh!”

While Steve is stuck inside him and lost to his own pleasure, Bucky’s able to rock himself to one more, toe-curlingly delicious orgasm before he finally lets himself go boneless on the bed, fully sated. He knows when Steve is done coming, because the alpha becomes more attentive again, his hands running over Bucky like he’s checking him for injuries sustained. If Bucky hadn’t just come four times, he might've been able to spare a chuckle over it. “Hey,” he says instead. “M’fine, babe.”

“Yeah?” Steve sounds pleased. He gives his hips a lazy roll against Bucky’s ass and nuzzles his freshly-bitten bondmark, groaning at the pheromones that hit him. He licks a big, fat swipe over it with his tongue, groaning and making Bucky hiss. “Mmm," he murmurs. "You’re bleeding."

“Duh.” 

Steve growls. “Be nice to your Alpha,” he Voices, and  Bucky shivers pleasantly. Steve notices the reaction and gloats. “Hmm. Maybe we should start biting more often.”

“How often?” Bucky’s halfway through a yawn as he says it, and he feels Steve shrug against his back. 

“Once a month?”

He chokes. “Steve!”

“What?” Steve’s snickering. “I like a well-scarred bondmark. S’romantic.” 

“It’s fucking primeval is what it is, you caveman.” Bucky scolds, rolling his eyes. He clenches down purposefully hard on Steve’s knot, smiling at the surprised—Hngnn!—he gets for it. “We already do it on our anniversary every year.”

“And sometimes on Valentine’s,” Steve supplies.

“Exactly. Any more than that and people’ll think we have a fetish.”

“Well, maybe we do,” he purrs, kissing the bite. “And it is what the medical professionals are recommending, after all.”

“Ha, yeah.” 

“... You’re really okay though?” Steve checks. “None of that bothered you? The Voicing, or the—”

“Shh. No. I loved it.” Bucky lets his eyes fall closed. He can still feel his pulse thrumming beneath his skin, bringing the delicious ache and throb of his glands to the forefront. “Every part of it,” he sighs.

Steve laces their fingers together. “Good. ‘Cause I take doctor's orders very seriously, you know.” He rumbles deep in his chest and gives a dirty grind against their tie. “We gotta keep you healthy, Buck. Gotta make sure you’re properly … stimulated.” 

“You suck so bad,” Bucky groans. “Your permission to know my medical information is rescinded.”

“Aw, don’t be that way. I can dick you down again in like, an hour, if you want? Probably. Two hours, tops.”

Bucky yawns, humming as he pretends to consider it. “Tempting offer, but how ‘bout you cuddle me ‘till I pass out, instead?” he says, because he really does think the other night was a fluke, and that he’s destined to be awakened by a baby monitor within the next few hours. Steve wraps his strong arms around him and pulls them to lie on their sides. They spoon like that and enjoy the closeness while they wait for Steve’s knot to go down. Bucky gets goosebumps when Steve starts caressing lazily up and down his side. “Mm, that’s nice.”

“Mmhm.” Steve slots his fingers into the trigger points for the prosthetic. “Let’s take this off,” he whispers, kissing the shell of his ear. 

It’s Bucky’s fucked up ear—a place where he’s usually squirmy and uncomfortable about Steve touching, let alone kissing, but right now it doesn’t bother him at all. Too many endorphins surging through his system, he supposes.

“Okay,” he agrees, since he doesn’t really love sleeping with the arm on anyway (he’s got this paranoia that one day he’ll sleep-punch Steve in the middle of a nightmare or something), and then lies there and listens to the sounds that the arm makes as it’s triggered to disengage from his body. He can’t actually feel anything other than some vague, mechanical movements deep in the arm’s very internal workings. It doesn’t hurt. And then it comes off, a sudden release of weight and tension that Bucky hadn’t even realized was there. He moans quietly at the feeling. “Nnh. Thanks Stevie.”

“You’re welcome.” Steve sets the arm out of the way and resumes his gentle stroking and caressing along Bucky's side, venturing up higher to where the anchor site for the arm begins, implanted permanently into his body.

Bucky can sense his husband looking down at it, can feel the pads of his fingers exploring thoughtfully over the texture of scars and metal edging. He sighs, feeling wistful. “Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like, if we’d met before?”

Behind him, Steve stills. He’s quiet for a long moment, and just when Bucky thinks he’s not going to answer at all, his caressing starts back up again and he hooks his chin over Bucky’s shoulder. “Sometimes, in a general way," he admits. "But then ... it wouldn't be the you I fell in love with, would it? We wouldn’t be us.” He worms his other arm under his waist and hugs them closer together. “Maybe we’d have less nightmares between the two of us, less therapy,"

Bucky snorts.

"But I wouldn’t choose anything but this. Nothing would be the same if we hadn't met the way we did, y'know? You probably would’ve stayed in college, focused on your career, maybe put off kids too long. I wouldn't have joined Shield, Peggy wouldn't have moved away.” He kisses the ruined edge of Bucky’s ear again, so tender and slow that Bucky knows he’s doing it intentionally. “Just think: Becca wouldn’t exist. And we wouldn’t have Sarah or Gabe, 'cause you and I never would’ve met.”

“We might’ve.”

“Mm, doubtful.” 

Bucky grumbles, displeased at that hypothetical, and Steve hugs him and coos in agreement, “Shh. I know, I know. That would be awful. I’m just saying: you can’t trade the good for the bad. It’s a package deal. And you know what? I’m happy with my package.” He seals his mouth to the fresh bite wound and gives a powerful suck, popping off with a wet sound and a pleased growl. “Very very happy with my package.”

Bucky’s too gooey and in love and fucked out to get the delivery just right, but he at least manages to wiggle his butt against their tie and mutter out a tired but saucy little, “Mmm, yeah. I like your package, too.”

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[thebirdandthebee]

Imagine Me & You

A Jake “Hangman” Seresin fic.

First time writing TGM fanfic - please be gentle.

Jake stumbles across a woman on base that seems to enjoy the finer things in life... just like the future he’d like to build - with her in it.

Thanks so much to all for the likes and comments, I’m having a blast writing this! Tonight’s chapter is over twice as long as all the rest and I think just what we’ve been looking for... It is, however, unedited, so apologies for any glaring mistakes.

Chapter 5: Come Back, Be Here

“And so what is this one supposed to do?” Mia asked, adjusting the small piece of cloth that was meant to cover the tip of her nose.

“Uh, I think yours is brighten and firm,” Tina called from the bathroom where she was affixing her own facemask between sips of wine.

Mia shrugged thoughtfully, taking out her phone.

“What about mine?” Bob asked, frowning at the packaging that he was having a hard time reading without his glasses on.

“Yours is moisturizing, baby!” Tina replied, strutting back into the TV room in their basement.  She had invited Mia over for cocktails and appetizers after a long week on base. She was working her first court hearing starting next week and though she was confident working under Lt. Gen. Bozek, she wanted things to be perfect, a victim of her own Type-A personality.

The prep had kept her up past one in the morning nearly every night.

Bobbi was out of town for the weekend visiting her new situationship in LeMoore.

“Once you go military….” Tina raised an eyebrow, causing Bob to roll his eyes. She really enjoyed their company – they seemed like people she’d eventually befriend at any point in her life, but she was especially glad to have them now.

“Mia, when does Jack come back out again?” Bob asked, having gotten to chop it up with the younger Thomas when he was in town last.

“Not until after New Year’s unfortunately,” she explained. “I’ll head out to Indiana to visit him for Christmas, it’s hard for him to get out here between winter semester and baseball practices.”

“It’ll come sooner than you think,” Bob smiled warmly. “We’ll head back to Oregon to Tina’s Mom’s for Christmas,” he added.

“Oh I love Oregon,” Mia gushed.

“It’s the best,” Tina agreed, joining them on the big sectional sofa, popping a cheese cube into her mouth. “So Mimi,” she grinned in a way that Mia had learned was trouble. “You and our Hangman were looking awfully cozy at the Fourth party…” She trailed off.

“Were we?” Mia asked, acting as though she couldn’t remember the party from a little over two weeks earlier.

“Babe?” Tina asked, looking at her husband.

“Cozy,” Bob confirmed.

“Not any more cozy than with Rooster,” Mia tried to level.

“Oh please,” Tina snorted. “He took his shirt off and your tongue rolled down to the ground like a cartoon.”

“It did not!” Mia honked out an unladylike laugh, caught by surprise.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, we all looked,” Tina insisted.

“Hate to disappoint you both, but Jake and I are just friends,” Mia replied coyly. Friends who ate breakfast on the beach and nearly kissed on base – but she’d keep that to herself. “Speaking of, I haven’t heard from too many others in a while, what gives?” Mia asked, taking a sip of her wine as she thumbed through a magazine on her lap. When she received no response, she looked up to catch the tail end of a look between Bob and Tina.

“They’re out on assignment,” Tina said.

“Like at a different base?” Mia asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Something like that,” Tina replied. Mia didn’t love her answer.

“Wait what does that mean?” The blonde frowned, “is everyone okay?” She asked.

“No reason to think they’re not,” Bob said calmly.

“Explain,” Mia insisted. As someone who professionally lived in the black and white, she didn’t understand the grey they were offering.

“Sorry Mia, it’s confidential,” Bob gave her a sad smile.

“But you’re not there?” Mia asked.

“I didn’t draw the short straw,” he said, not sure how else to explain.

“Well when do they come home?” Mia asked, a little knot forming between her brows.

“Can’t say,” Bob replied.

“Well this is bullshit!” She frowned even deeper.

“It is,” Tina agreed, causing Bob to give her a sidelong glance. “More wine?” She offered.

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

“I think the eighteen by twenty-four goes to the left of that window, and then the small gallery to the right,” Bobbi said, standing back from the window.

“Okay, but then where does the mirror go?” Mia asked, looking around the room at her options.

“Bedroom for sure,” Bobbi replied.

“Yeah, I think you’re right, but I’ve got to get my new desk in first,” Mia sighed. After living in her apartment for the past 11 months, she decided to upgrade to a slightly larger unit on the south side of the building. It was the nicest apartment available and she was pleased with herself for pulling the trigger on something she knew she’d appreciate. The new apartment would give Jack some more space when he came to visit and now they each had their own respective bathrooms, along with a den she could carve into an office.

“And when does everything else get moved up?” Bobbi asked, taking a sip of her water glass on the counter.

“Well, I decided I could do most of it myself, so Tina and Bob are coming by this afternoon to help with a few things,” Mia grinned, “I think I may have bit off more than I can chew.”

“You really strike me as a hire-the-movers kind of person,” Bobbi laughed.

“Normally I am!” Mia insisted, “but I’ve become such a control freak lately that I just decided I wanted to do it myself – besides, it’s only down the hall, it can’t be that hard.”

“Fair,” Bobbi nodded. “Well I’m going to order some salads for lunch and we’ll see what else we can hang up?” She suggested, grabbing her phone from her purse.

“Perfect,” Mia smiled.

The pair worked diligently hanging picture frames, mindful of the tape markers on the floor that would signify where certain furniture pieces would live. Mia was grateful for a friend like Bobbi – and by extension, Lt. Gen. Bozek for introducing the two. She had returned from Lemoore last week, a big hickey on her neck that she was mortally embarrassed about, but a big smile nonetheless. Mia loved to see her happy.

“Hey you haven’t heard from like Rooster or Hangman, have you?” Mia tried to ask casually, taking a bite of her salad as they sat around her kitchen island an hour later. Bobbi glanced up at the blonde with a small frown.

“Sorry, no,” she shook her head.

“It’s been like a really long time, right?” Mia asked. At this point, it had been over three and a half weeks since she saw Jake. Or Bradley.

She was new to this world – was being this long a good or bad thing? It couldn’t be good, right? Were they in danger? Had something already happened and no one had said anything yet?

“You’ll get used to it,” Bobbi gave her hand a squeeze. “I haven’t heard anything, but that doesn’t mean much. I could as my uncle if he knows anything?” She offered.

“No, it’s okay,” Mia felt silly for bringing it up, stabbing her fork down into her salad.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Bobbi offered a reassuring smile.

That night as Mia laid in her bed, she stared at the ceiling, still plagued with thoughts of Jake. And Bradley. What if something had happened? What if he was hurt, or worse? Would it take this long for them to find out?

Oddly enough, the first thing that flashed through Mia’s mind was all the times Jake had held her hand. Dismounting from chairs at The Hard Deck, stepping out of her golf cart, helping her up from the beach blanket after their beach morning. She wanted more of it. She wanted his hands on her in the way he lifted her to his shoulders in the pool or as he reached for something beyond her grasp on the grocery store shelf.

She wanted more sunsets in a patio lounger and darts at the bar, ignoring the boundaries of personal space. She wanted more rides in the Jag and maybe they could even start running in the morning together.

Mostly, she wanted to kiss his gorgeous face. She wanted him to hold her in those strong arms so she knew exactly where he was. She wasn’t sure how it happened, but she had fallen deep for Jake Seresin. So where the hell was he?

Wiping away a tear of frustration, she turned to her side and tried to get some sleep.

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

Another week had passed and Mia’s court case proceedings were going well, but it was still quite a bit of stress on the young attorney. Following the morning’s hearing, she headed back to her office to unwind when she got the call.

“Your grandmother had a fall, she’s okay, but she’s asking for you.” The orderly explained.  

Lt. Gen. Bozek had barely told her to pack up and leave before she was flying down the highway in the convertible. She hated driving in heels, but she was thankful for the short drive. She had called Jack on the way to give him an update and talked him down from missing class to come out and see Dorothea.

“It’s okay, they said she’s okay,” Mia reassured. “Don’t miss class – I will give you an update as soon as I get eyes on her. We’ll FaceTime.” She insisted on the phone, pulling into the parking lot for the care facility.

“Give her a kiss for me,” Jack insisted sadly.

“Of course I will – call you soon, Jack Jack.” She hung up. Putting on a brave face, she walked into the facility and was greeted by the medical director, who walked alongside Mia as they headed up to Dorothea’s suite.

“She’s okay, she’s stable. She does have a fractured wrist and some bruising on her leg,” the doctor explained. “We’ve completed a full evaluation and we don’t think this is a cause for concern, but simply that she’s an 88-year-old woman and these things happen.”

Mia knew he was only trying to be reassuring, but the fact remained, Dorothea was 88 and things like this would only become more commonplace.

“What was the response time between the fall and someone attending to her?” Mia asked.

“Less than two minutes,” The doctor explained. “Dorothea has an alert buddy, which senses if she’s had a fall and alerts us immediately.” Mia could exhale at that news.

“Thank you,” she said softly, pushing open the door to her grandmother’s room.

Stepping in quietly, she slipped out of her heels and padded towards the recliner her grandmother was napping in, facing out toward the ocean with the sea breeze coming in through the open patio door. Mia said dutifully beside her, gently resting her hand on Dorothea’s and feeling like she could breathe again.

It was one thing to be told someone was okay, but another to get hands on them and know for yourself.

“Hi sweetheart,” Dorothea smiled softly. Mia held back a sob.

“Hi there,” she replied, giving Dorothea’s hand a small squeeze.

“Why so sad?” Her grandmother asked, seeing the trouble behind her mirrored brown eyes.

“Oh, I was just worried about you,” Mia said gently.

Moving was stressful, the need to win her first court case was looming over her shoulders and wondering every 10 minutes if Jake was okay was taking a toll on her. Throw in an ailing grandmother on top of that and Mia felt a little bit like her world was caving in on top of her.

“You don’t need to worry about me, my darling girl,” Dorothea insisted. “I’m doing quite well – I won’t be dancing anytime soon, but that’s just fine.” Mia let a single tear slip with her soft laugh. “Come on, there must be more?” Her grandmother pressed.

Mia sucked in a small breath, running her free hand through her hair.

“I’m worried about my friend,” She explained. “He’s an aviator on base and he’s been gone for a long time. We don’t really get to know any details or when he’ll be back.” She added.

Dorothea patted Mia’s hand gently.

“I’m sorry, Mimi,” Dorothea sympathized. “Does he know how you feel about him?” She asked. Mia’s eyes cut over to her grandmother, who gave her a serene look but just a corner of her mouth was upturned.

“No,” Mia gave her a sad smile. “I mean, I only just figured it out for myself the other day, but I do care about him a lot.”

“Is he handsome?” Dorothea asked, causing Mia to giggle, breaking the tension in her brows.

“So handsome,” she agreed. “You’d love him.” She insisted. “His name is Jake and he’s a total gentleman – from Texas.”

“Cowboy,” Dorothea winked, making Mia laugh again. She was so glad her grandmother was okay – but it didn’t change the fact that she was becoming more and more fragile.

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

Mia was back at work three days later, hair a little out of place and a hint of darkness under her eyes. It was piling on – the pressure. Jack was stressed about school and calling her every night, during the day, she was pounding away at work while devoting as much time as she could talking to Dorothea.

Her move was going slower than she could believe and was living between two apartments – getting ready in one unit before walking down the hall to get the rest of her things. Her complex was being gracious with her move-out period.

That, and still nothing from the Lieutenant Commander.

As the day wound down, she could see the light in Lt. Gen. Bozek’s office click on. Neither of them had designs to leave anytime soon.

After going over two hours of deposition with Bozek, it was nearing eight o’clock and her vision was getting more and more blurry by the minute. She was tired, getting cranky, and was hoping she could see a sliver of sunlight before it went dark for the evening. That was clearly out of the question at this point, as she could see the stars winking through thin clouds.

The full moon, however, was her saving grace, and she admired its beauty through the window of her office.

“Mia, it’s late, and we’ve got a Noon call time tomorrow,” Bozek sighed, standing in the doorway. “Why don’t you head home and try to get a few extra hours of sleep?” He suggested.

“Normally I would fight you on this, but yes, I will take your advice,” she smiled pitifully. Lt. Gen. Bozek liked the young attorney and he saw an incredibly bright future for her – this first win would mean a lot.

“Let’s head out, there’s a bus arriving shortly and it’s going to get a bit busy on base,” he explained. “Actually we might already be S-O-L.” He said, craning his neck to see cars already leaving with their loved ones.

“A bus?” She asked, tossing her laptop down into her tote and switching from her heels into a pair of sensible flats that made her drive home much more bearable.

“There’s a small team returning tonight from assignment,” blood rushed her ears. “Families that live nearby can come pick them up from the base, it’s actually pretty sweet.” He explained.

“Jake?” She whispered, not intending for Bozek to hear her.

“You might find… a familiar face or two out there… if they haven’t left yet,” Lt. Gen. Bozek trailed.

“I’ll see you at Noon!” She called, taking off like a bat into the night as she escaped from the building, feet pounding down the stairs. She jumped the last two, throwing her briefcase haphazardly over the car door and into the passenger seat as she nearly leapt into the car. She prayed Jake hadn’t already left. She never saw his car on base, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have gotten a ride with someone else.

With no real sense of where to go, she simply drove toward the commotion that neared a hangar she had passed by a hundred times. Ten or so cars remained with a few lights on to illuminate the airfield. Parking like an absolute jackass, she hopped out of the car and began scanning the crowd. Forty or so base members and their families were milling about with big hugs and happy smiles.

She didn’t care if she looked like a lunatic, so she began to weave through groups, doing her best to identify anyone in the harsh, angled lighting.

It began to feel hopeless. There weren’t that many people that she’d lose Jake. She felt like if he was there, she’d know it, and she felt utterly lost in a sea of strangers.

Cutting her losses, she figured if she headed back to her apartment now, she could shimmy some of her kitchen boxes down the hall to her new place. She turned to walk down the parking area behind the row of cars.

Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she composed a text to Bobbi and Tina in their group chat, a pitiful frown on her face.

“We’ve got to stop running into each other like this, Thomas.” Mia’s head popped up at the familiar voice and her face crumpled upon seeing Lieutenant Commander Seresin leaning against her driver’s side door, his duffel bag sitting on the trunk of her car.

“Jake!” She let the floodgates open, running a full sprint at the tall blonde, who was more than ready to catch her as she jumped into him. He held her tightly against him, reveling in the feeling as she buried her face into his neck, giving him a reason to inhale the scent of her shampoo and that damned perfume.

He gently rocked them back and forth as she squeezed him tight, and he could feel the tiny, telltale shakes of her shoulders.

“It’s okay, I’m here, darlin’,” he murmured pressing his lips to her temple. “Everything’s okay,” he cooed, “I’m here.”

“Why didn’t you call?” She cried, “why didn’t you let me know you were okay?” She asked. He leaned against her car a little further when he realized she wasn’t ready to let go yet.

“If I could have, I would have, sweetheart,” he explained gently. “I wanted to every day.” He could feel the tears catch on the fabric of his cotton tee.

“Stay with me tonight?” She asked, pulling back and looking up at him with those bleary, honey-gold eyes. Even in the dark of the evening, they seemed to glow.

“There is nothing else I’d rather do.”

The two drove in comfortable silence back to Mia’s apartment, her crowding him as much as possible – him, glad to maneuver the two-seater with one hand as the other arm draped across her shoulders, holding her into his side.

“I got it, Mia, you go on ahead,” he said, tossing his duffel over his shoulder and grabbing her work tote as well. In the elevator to the fifteenth floor, she crowded him yet again, pressing her face into his chest. She didn’t like the smell that clung to his Navy-issued clothing. It didn’t smell like him. “Darlin’, why’s your mattress on the ground?” He said after she led him through the halfway-furnished apartment to her bedroom.

“I’m moving,” she said quietly. “Just down the hall, but I can’t move my bed frame on my own and Tina and Bob had to cancel on me because Bob’s got the flu and Bobbi’s back in Lemoore this weekend, and I’ve been in Del Mar with my grandmother since she fell and I’ve got this court hearing tomorrow and –” She began to wind herself up again.

“Okay, okay, let’s get you changed out of your work clothes,” he said, scooting her over to her closet. “Do you have some pajamas here?” She nodded, rubbing her hands across her face. “You get changed and I’ll grab us a drink, okay?” He offered, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. She paused, taking him in in the warm light of her apartment. He’d never been here, but something about his presence made it feel like home.

He, too, looked like he’d been missing some sleep, and his skin was irritated across his forehead and by his ears. He’d never looked so handsome.

He knew what she was thinking, and before she could fully grasp his jaw in her hands, his lips were on hers.

She was soft and warm and everything he had dreamed of the past four weeks in his twin cot on the carrier. His arms wound around her waist as she rocked forward on her toes, stretching to reach him as she slanted her mouth over his.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked,” she said after softly pulling away. He knew he would always enjoy his downward view of her eyelashes before she looked up at him – a dazed expression on her face.

“Please never apologize,” he murmured, cupping her face in his hand, itching to run his fingers through her hair. “Change, meet me back here in two,” he instructed, pressing another firm kiss to her lips.

As soon as he stepped out of the bedroom, she flew through the closet, flinging her clothes off and stepping into a soft, matching set of shorts and tee.

Jake reappeared as she crawled into the elevated mattress – grateful she had made the bed that morning before work. He held two glasses in his hands, ice waters and a slice of lemon in hers. He was good with details.

“Drink,” he said softly, handing over her glass. And she did, as she watched him step out of his Navy-issued pants, folding them and tossing them over the back of her reading chair before pulling his white tee over his head. “Is this okay?” He asked, tossing the t-shirt on top of his pants before doing the same with his dog tags. He was left standing in his white boxers. She nodded intently.

The sight of Mia holding back the corner of the bed covers for him made a warm tingling surface near the base of his spine and behind his ears. He knew for months they’d get here, but now it was real.

Mia wasted no time crowding his space once again. He managed not to jump at her cold fingertips, but made himself comfortable in her bed as she came to relax on his chest. He tucked one arm behind his head and stroked the other up and down her back.

“Don’t leave again,” she said, propping her chin up against his chest. “Everything fell apart when you did.” She pressed a kiss to the warm skin of his collarbone. “Tell me about it, darlin,’” he insisted.

“Dorothea fell and broke her wrist,” she began. “She’s going to be fine but it scared the hell out of me,” she added. “I’ve been spending as much time as I can with her, but I’m working my first court case and we have another proceeding tomorrow at Noon that I’ve been killing myself on.” Jake listened carefully she continued. “Jack is freaking out at school about one of his senior capstone classes and is now doubting his whole major, and we talk every day, but I’m running out of hours.”

Jake paused his ministrations and simply held her to him.

“And I’ve been living between two apartments because I didn’t just hire the damn movers, I had to do it myself,” she rolled her eyes. “Turns out I can’t move all this furniture on my own.” She pressed the broad of her face into his chest. “And I just missed you a lot,” she confessed, her words muffled by his skin.

“Gonna have to speak up on that last one,” he said, rubbing her back again, very aware of what she said.

“I missed you so much – more than I thought I would,” she said, looking up at him once again. “I was talking to my grandmother about you and I just realized that… I have feelings for you.” She said, feeling incredibly vulnerable.

“Glad we’re on the same page, sweetheart,” he said, pushing her hair back out of her face. “Been waiting for you to catch up,” he added.

“Tina tried tipping me off… but I don’t know, I didn’t want to jump to anything I wasn’t sure about,” she explained.

“Tina’s a menace,” he grinned, kissing the top of her head. “Wanted to give you time to come around.”

“I’m here,” she said, her gaze dropping to his lips. He was eager to gather her up against him, her hands once again delving into his soft hair as his mouth claimed hers.

“Missed you,” he breathed between kissing, chasing her lips.

“I thought about you every day,” she confessed. “Just wanted you home,” she added, gathering her legs underneath her and swinging one over to straddle his hard body. Jake groaned as she pushed down against him, going cross-eyed beneath his lids for a moment.

“Alright cowgirl, just – give me a minute,” he grit. She didn’t. She pressed open-mouth, lazy kisses against his jaw, nipping his earlobe with her teeth in a way that sent a metallic zing right down to his cock. She reveled in the feeling of him hardening beneath her, feeling incredibly powerful in that moment.

“I know I’m going to regret this,” he murmured, chasing her lips yet again for a firm kiss. “But you’ve got court in the morning,” he added, pecking her softly. “And I’ve got some furniture to move.” He continued. “Then, when you’re out of court, we can drive some dinner over to Del Mar.” Mia withheld a whimper. She knew Jake would fix everything. “And I want to do this right.” He said pressing his face into her cheek and enjoying the warmth of her skin. “Because I’m crazy about you, Mia Thomas,” he said, catching her attention with his intent.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Lieutenant Commander.”

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