#I want to make a bread bowl out of this so bad

[mars-ipan]

just made a tuna salad omelette and it was . actually pretty good

[tbaluver]

Hey! I’m the anon who request the idol!reader, I really liked it and I wanted to request hcs for a reader who does streaming?

When You're A Streamer- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi again anonnie ! sorry this took a while to post this was sitting in my drafts until some ideas sparked up .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. this was such a cute and fun concept to write i hope this was okay and you enjoy ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Your audience would already be familiar with Xavier. He would occasionally pop up in the background of your stream with snacks and water when you've been streaming for too long. He'll softly smile and wave at the webcam, give you a sweet kiss on the top of your head, and then quietly slip out of the room. Sometimes he'll be sleeping in the background of your stream.

Sometimes he'll fall asleep with your stream in the background which resulted to him having a ton of channel points.

You tried to do a cooking/ baking stream with him one time and it ended up in a disaster. Flour and other ingredients everywhere but the bowl. Your audience thought it was hilarious and wanted more content of you two doing that more often.

He would get jealous when he would see a lot of people simping in your chat but it would be okay because you'd ban them. Anything to keep your lovers mind at peace!

He loves it when you include him in your streams to play games or do other challenges. He does not get scared playing any horror games but if you do, he'll reassure you that he's right here to protect you. Your chat would be a mix of awe and jealously at you two in stream. He's also your good luck charm whenever you stream a gacha game.

Zayne:

You two would have the worst sleep schedules ever. He would come home late at night and you would still be streaming when he came home. Eventually he'll tell you to stop streaming for the day so you guys can rest together.

He loves it when you do a baking stream. He'll get to try all the sweet treats you try to make behind the camera.

His face never makes an appearance because he doesn't want to be in the spotlight but his lower half would be seen. Your chat would be down bad for his hands and you can't help but agree.

The type of partner that would make you yummy home made food and bring it to you while you're streaming.

He finds it endearing that you're helping out the hospital when you do charity streams or any charity streams in general. He'll bring you a ton of snacks and water to make sure you're energized because he knows those can be lengthy.

When he's comfortable, he'll join you for some games on stream, but the chat would only hear his voice as his face will stay off camera. You guys would play games like Overcooked or It Takes Two or Bread and Fred. Your chat would absolutely love his dry humor and would want you two to play or interact more during stream often.

Rafayel:

He would have a streaming set up for you somewhere in his studio so you're still near him. Your streaming room would be so cute. You two would have designed it together and your fans would end up wanting a room tour.

He would have your stream open on his phone or any device and he'll play it in the background so he can listen to your voice as he paints.

Rafayel loves to be included in general in your streamer career. He'll help you design any of your custom merch or help manage your social media posts, thumbnails, and anything that was creative.

You would do a variety of things on stream depending on what you planned out for that day. Sometimes he'll help you plan and give you ideas! You could play different games, reaction, and challenges. He would love it when you included him in stream and sometimes you guys would get to do couple challenges.

If you were to include him in stream to be your 'good luck charm' when you played a gacha game, he would be so cocky. If you ended up losing your 50/50, he would look at you as if it was YOUR fault.

Sometimes he'll appear in your stream by 'mistake' and your chat would be freaking out. He would bask in all the compliments about him in your chat and you would have to usher him to leave.

There would be a ton of fan edits of you two online. Your fans would eat up any of the content that you guys post together, things like outfit of the day posts with him or you posting his artwork. They just think you guys are so cute. He would also lowkey be judgmental of your fans fanart of you two.

Sylus:

When he found out you were a streamer, he would upgrade your streaming set up with the best materials.

Your chat definitely knew you had a partner. You'd say hi to him in chat and they would hear him in the background as you talk to him. Your chat would be so down bad for his voice and would want him to do a reveal.

He secretly wants to be part of your stream sometimes because they seem like fun, but unfortunately he has to keep his identity hidden. That doesn't stop him from supporting you though.

He's genuinely interested in your job and understands how important it is to you. He's also really impressed by how much you gain followers and in awe with how much your fans love you.

He would be your number 1 fan and your number 1 viewer on all your streaming platforms. He would gift you so much anytime you stream. He would also have so much channel points and would make you do the silliest things. He'll make you sing or dance and sometimes he'll end the stream so he can have you all to himself.

He'll text you to ask if you want this or that to eat or drink and he'll slide it to you off camera so you're well-fed and hydrated.

Will be your rock when you face an criticism or any rough patches in your streaming career. He'll provide a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on while offering supportive words to help you maintain confidence in your career.

[cheoliehansolie]

Rainy Days

Summary: Your plans for the day are canceled when the weather takes a turn, but you and your boyfriend manage to turn it around.

Word Count: ~1.5k

Pairing: Mingyu x gn reader

Warnings: None, but y/n is written to be smaller than Mingyu

Author's Note: If you like reading this, make sure to reblog! If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask 💕

To read more, check out my masterlist

---

You woke up this morning to the warmth of your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you and the sunlight streaming in through your windows. It was the first Saturday in a while that you had no plans and you were definitely going to take advantage of the nice weather to run some errands.

You quietly separate yourself from the sweet, sleeping man next to you and slowly make your way to the bathroom, trying your best not to make any noise. Once you showered and got ready for the day, you headed out to the kitchen to make yourself a quick breakfast. You’re hoping that you can go get some grocery shopping done before the love of your life wakes up from his slumber.

Just as you finish eating your breakfast, the once sunny atmosphere becomes extremely dark. Okay, a little bit of clouds won’t be that big of a problem. I can still walk to the grocery store and be back soon.

Your optimistic thoughts are immediately shattered when you hear a loud crack of thunder and the intense downpour of rain outside your apartment window. Okay, I guess that means no grocery shopping for today. 

Realizing that you’ve been up for too long to go back to bed, you decide to clean up your kitchen a bit. While cleaning, your eyes fall on the fruit bowl sitting on your kitchen counter. You were going to replenish it with some new produce when you went to the store, but it’s apparent that that’s not going to happen today. The bowl is almost empty, except for some brown bananas that you knew no one would eat. Almost as if a lightbulb goes off, you decide to give up on cleaning and in favor of making a fresh loaf of banana bread. The best way to spend a rainy, gloomy day is by baking, isn’t it?

So, you rush around your kitchen grabbing different utensils and ingredients to make the delicious treat. You need to remind yourself to be a little quiet because even though your boyfriend can sleep through a thunderstorm, he’s immediately woken up by the promise of food. You grab your headphones from the kitchen table and start playing your rainy day playlist while you move around the kitchen.

While you’re mixing the dry and wet ingredients together, you feel a pair of strong, familiar arms wrap around your waist. Jolting at the sudden contact, you set down the mixing spoon and pull your headphones off.

“Babe, you can’t just sneak up on me like that. What if I had a heart attack?” you whine as you struggle against his grip to turn and face him, but to no avail as you’re essentially trapped in his arms. You can feel his chest rumble against where it’s pressed against your back and can feel his warm breath hitting your neck as he chuckles slightly at your antics.

“You know, I wasn’t quiet when I came out here. I walked into the kitchen table but you didn’t hear me because you had your headphones on.” Mingyu says matter-of-factly as he pulls his face away from your neck so you can hear him properly.

“Okay, then I guess that’s my bad.” you say with a small laugh. You realize that Mingyu isn’t letting you go any time soon, so you get back to mixing the batter in front of you.

“What’re you making?” Mingyu asks as he looks over your head to see what’s in the bowl in front of you.

“Banana bread. I was gonna go grocery shopping, but it started raining the second I was ready to leave so I decided to bake.” you say, finally satisfied with the consistency of your batter but unable to move to grab the baking pan.

“You should’ve just come back to bed.” Mingyu whines behind you as he rests his head on yours.

“I would’ve, but I’ve been awake for too long that I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Besides, now you can have fresh banana bread for breakfast.” you say, trying to sneakily find a way out of his arms. 

“Aww, thank you baby. That’s so thoughtful of you.” he says as he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. “But I would’ve loved cuddles in bed just as much as fresh banana bread.” he says, squeezing you tighter as if he knew of your plan to escape.

“Cuddles can be arranged.” you say with a small giggle as you continue to struggle against his arms. Unable to find a way out, you say “I’m gonna need you to let me go so I can put the batter into a pan and bake it, you know that right?” tapping his arms to get him to let you go.

“I don’t want to. Can’t we just get it together?” he asks, pouting at you. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you relent and try your best to maneuver around the kitchen with your much larger boyfriend weighing you down. 

Although you put on a show of being bothered by how clingy he can be, both you and your boyfriend know that you love it when he’s attached to you like a koala. It makes your heart swell and your stomach explode with butterflies when he makes it so apparent that he likes being near you as much as you like being near him.

Once you’ve finally gotten back to the counter with the baking pan, you decide that if Mingyu’s going to cling onto you he might as well be useful. 

“Babe, can you hold the bowl while I scrape the batter into the pan?” you ask, turning your head to look at his face.

“Of course, baby.” he says as he unwraps one of his arms around your waist and grabs the bowl full of batter. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

You grab the spoon and give him a small nod, “I’m ready.”

Mingyu watches you as you diligently scrape the remaining batter from the bowl not wanting to waste any of it. Once you’ve gotten all the batter off the bowl that you can, you take the bowl from Mingyu’s hand and place the spoon in it.

“Babe, do you think you can let me go now? I have to put this in the oven and I don’t want either of us to get burnt.” you say gently, even though you don’t want him to let you go either.

“Fine.” he says, giving you a final squeeze and letting go of your waist. Your body immediately shivers at the loss of warmth Mingyu was providing you with so you rush to put the pan into the oven so the two of you can be reconnected as soon as possible.

Setting a timer on your phone to remember to take the bread out of the oven, you turn to where you left Mingyu just a few seconds ago and you find him cleaning the small mess you made while baking.

Taking this as your chance, you rush behind him and wrap your arms around him to cuddle against him. Leaning your cheek against his back, you feel so content just standing around your kitchen with him in your arms that you feel like you could stay like this forever.

You silently trail behind him as he makes his way around the small kitchen, hardly paying you any attention. After a few minutes, he’s deemed the kitchen clean by his standards and he abruptly turns in your arms to face you.

“Hi.” he says with a small smile on his face as the two of you finally face each other for the first time today.

“Hi.” you say with a love struck smile on your face.

“If I remember correctly, someone promised me cuddles earlier.” Mingyu says with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Well, we have another 45 minutes until the banana bread’s ready so we might as well kill time.” you say, the smile from earlier still gracing your features.

“That’s not nearly enough time.” Mingyu whines as he pulls you close.

“Then you better get to it.” you said, enjoying teasing your boyfriend.

“Yeah, I should.” he says and before you could even register what was happening, your feet are off the ground and Mingyu’s carrying you to the couch in the living room.

You let out a squeal of shock as your much larger boyfriend manhandles you into cuddling him on the couch. Mingyu grabs a blanket from the edge of the bed and drapes it over the two of you and he pulls you into his chest.

The two of you cuddle together in silence as Mingyu plays with your hair and you draw shapes on his taut abdomen, the only sound being the sound of rain pattering outside. Before you realize it, you’re drifting off to sleep in Mingyu’s arms and before you could fully be pulled under the sea of sleep, you can’t help but think about how much you enjoy laying here in his arms.

[beenbaanbuun]

fever w/ kang yeosang

words - an amount 🙂‍↕️

genre - hurt/comfort, sickfic

warnings - food avoidance because of illness, mentions of vomiting, reader is a little bratty but it’s the fever talking, yeosang is tired :((, not proof read

——————————————————————————

“you need to eat something, baby,” yeosang grumbles, arm folded crossly over his half-exposed pecs. you can’t help but focus on the way he’s standing there in nothing but a tank top and some shorts while you’re sat shivering in one of the many hoodies that you’ve stolen from his closet. you’ve been blaming the fever for how cold you seem to be at the minute, but you’ve always ran a little colder than your boyfriend. whenever he needs a sweater, you need a sweater, a coat and a scarf. you’re just a little nesh, you suppose.

your eyes flicker around the kitchen, studying everything that crosses your vision. perhaps you could have some toast, you think as your eyes land on the half-finished loaf of bread on the counter. then you think about how heavy your stomach feels, even when it’s empty, and you realise that perhaps toast isn’t the best option. you turn your nose up and move on to the bowl of fruit that yeosang had just refilled this morning. the scent of the bananas alone is enough to make you feel sick, and perhaps the citrus fruits aren’t the best choice when you’ve been struggling to keep food down.

“i’m only going to throw it up again,” you argue, trying your hardest to make your expression pathetic and sad. you commit to it, bringing out the sad arched brows and the big wet eyes. your bottom lip juts out just a little and for extra effect, you can’t help but wobble it a little. for a moment of two, you’re almost sure it’ll work. yeosang’s eyes soften and his arms go limp and fall back to his sides. you’re almost positive that he’ll let you off with another day of medicine and water, you can practically feel it on your tongue—

“you don’t know until you try.”

your shoulders sink upon hearing your words and your features drop, expressing only apathy and defeat. sure, the puppy dog eyes have never worked on him before, but there’s a first time for everything. you were certain that this would be that time.

“yeosang!” you whine, trying to grab his attention as he turns to face the countertop. he whines your name back in exactly the same nasally tone you used. “please! my throat already hurts from all the acid; i just want one day where i don’t throw up. it’ll make me feel less miserable.”

he ignores you, lifting his phone from the counter and typing a few words into safari. you wish you could see i what it says, but from your position, huddled up on a dining chair—which you would only move from if a hefty bribe was offered your way—you can’t even dream of looking around his oversized torso.

damn him for getting buff.

“google says banana’s are goo—”

“no,” you cut him off, head shaking wildly like a petulant child.

“baby~”

“they smell bad!”

with a sigh, yeosang goes back to looking.

“dry brown rice?” he offers meekly, already foreseeing the outcome of his offer. he doesn’t even have to turn around to see your face screwed up in displeasure; it’s already so clear in his mind. “nevermind, it was a stupid suggestion.”

you hum in agreement, the small sound making him crack a small smile. despite being incredibly difficult, yeosang can admit that you do have your sweet moments while you’re feverish. your mind may be muddled and your body doing everything in its power to make your life a living hell, but you still somehow manage to put a smile on his face.

if he wasn’t desperate to not catch whatever 18th century plague has taken up residence in your body, he’d spin around and kiss you. squish your cheeks together like he always does when he wants to annoy you a little, bring your face up to his, and just kiss you. it’s almost impossible not to when he’s been missing out on the feeling of your lips on his for the past few days, but when he hears the sound of your stomach churning and a pained groan leave your lips, he remembers exactly why he’s doing this to himself.

“how about broth?” he suggests, putting his mind back on the task at hand, “you like broth, baby.”

he’s right, you do like broth. or at least you like it when you’re not feeling like satan himself has put his little tapdancing shoes on specifically to do a jig atop your stomach. instinctively you wrap an arm around your abdomen which after a short period of docility, has began to cramp again. that broth really doesn’t sound appealing right now…

“yeosang…” you say, dejected and miserable. he sighs, understanding exactly what you mean by saying his name in that tone of voice; it’s a disheartened no from you.

and while it pains him to be forceful with you—or anyone for that matter—he can’t just sit and watch you waste away over a poorly stomach. he has to put his foot down for once.

“baby, you need to eat,” he sighs and rubs a hand over his face. he hates being so bossy with you, almost as much as he hears the weary sound pass from your lips just after his soft command. “just a small bowl, okay? just for me; your yeosang?”

and while it’s an obvious guilt trip, a little bribe to make you feel a little bad about refusing to eat, you can’t help but fall for it. you sigh, wrapping your arms around your knees so you can pick at your fingers guiltily. it’s not like you can help being sick, but maybe you have been a little dramatic about the whole refusing to eat thing. sure, your stomach churns at even the thought of food, but yeosang is right; if you don’t try, you won’t know. the idea of throwing up again frightens you, but broth is a liquid; it’ll be easy to come back up.

you resign with a minuscule hum, so quiet it’s almost silent.

“fine,” yeosang hardly believes the word when you say it with so much resignation, “one small bowl of broth…”

[apricotgojo]

Boyfriend Choso headcannons !

ㅤ♡ Content: Gender neutral!Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, mention of nicotine, just down bad cute boyfie choso ~ SFW ★ A/N - ilovehimsomuchthisisjustpurebrainrot

He's definitely the type to make those lock screens of cute photos of you where the picture changes with every tap of the screen - and all of them are photos which you thought you looked absolutely horrid.

Choso NEEDS to be touching you in one way or another when you're next to him - be it holding hands, locking pinkies together while you walk, letting his hand rest on your thigh, putting his head on your lap or even just grabbing your legs and putting them across his lap just so you can sit comfortably on the couch with him.

Choso has never and will never let you light your own cigarette. It's basically just a silent understanding between you two at this point that you light up both cigs at the same time while he holds the lighter in the middle.

He will send you random photos throughout his day of things he does; random bowls of cereal, him looking annoyed with a cig between his lips with the caption 'bored', pictures of flowers bcs they remind him of you, pictures of cute cats and dogs he encounters outside and oh we cannot forget about the delicious gym mirror pics he sends you where he's shirtless, hair down and has his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth with just 'done ;)' as a caption.

his Instagram is basically just you. no profile photo, no bio just photos with you, of you, you and your cat and every story is about a moment with you.

EVERYONE knows he's in a relationship. He will bring it up in every single conversation he has undoubtedly. "Nice weather we're having." "Yeah, my partner loooves the sun" or "I think i feel sick" "My partner felt sick 5 days ago, actually."

You guys have the cutest but cringiest nicknames for each other and have made up your own nonsensical language.

his favorite nicknames for you are "bunny", "baby", "love of my life," "love -bug", "pretty"

Choso 1000000% uses a baby voice with you and he acts like a little baby when you guys are alone.

he insists on getting matching everything - keychains, rings, shirts, underwear.

If you mention that you remotely like something just prepare yourself to get something related to it the next day. "Choso, why is there a big ass block of brie in our fridge?" "You said you liked it at the restaurant yesterday so i got it." "I said i liked many things at that restaurant Cho~" A small smile, "I know." That's basically how you ended up with a new set of plates, an unholy amount of homemade bread and 3 bottles of vanilla handsoap which smelled exactly like the one at the restaurants bathroom.

although he's quite reserved and quiet in public, with you he can actually be all goofy.

car rides with him are great -he's grabbing your hand between gear changes and loudly singing and dancing with you to your favorite songs.

your tiktok drafts are basically just you and him doing cute couple trends,

he WILL rap along to sexyyred with you every time she comes on AND he will put his entire Chosussy in the dance with you - even if he refused to at first.

he's quite overprotective - he would never hold you back from going out or anything but he needs to know every detail about your plan.

He has a resting bitch face - you're aware of that but what's really funny is that when you're out together with others it only takes a "Cho~?" from you to make his bored face instantly light up with a soft smile. "Yes, my baby?~"

sometimes he asks dumb questions randomly.

"Do you still love me? Because you didn't show me your liked tiktoks yet.."

He is constantly mentioning the future with you - what your house is gonna look like, your future travels, the pets you're gonna have and sometimes he lets it slip up that he wants kids. (but reassures you that he'd be happy without any too, as long as he has you.) <3

[holdinbacksecrets]

Hi! Can you please write BTS version of the voicemails they will send hinting their feelings? Thank you 😊

thank you for requesting 🖤

voicemails from bts, hinting feelings

namjoon: “i was in a bookstore the other day and started to imagine a book you wrote being on the shelves someday. everything you do, down to the indentation of your steps, leaves behind a story. do you remember your birthday two years ago? you drank one glass too many, and it’s like the fiction unleashed. i recorded a voice memo, but i never played it for you. i want to.”

jin: “are you scared? this morning you sounded really scared on the phone. i’m sorry i didn’t say more or say enough. i was caught off guard because you’ve never showed me scared before, not like that. i’ve seen your apprehension. i’ve seen your insecure. i’ve seen your anxiety, but this was consuming fear. i’m making dinner, and i feel like you probably haven’t eaten today… if your anxiety gives anything away about your scared. come over when you’re off. i’ll greet you with a hug and bowl of soup. or two bowls. i have cheese and bread too. the good bread. the loaf you turned me on to.”

yoongi: “you used the notes app on my phone to write out your grocery list, and i’m amused. it sounds like you’re having a conversation with yourself: right now, i want rice crispies, but i’ll probably change my mind once i’m in the cereal aisle. trust your gut, or get two boxes. you’re 26. no one is stopping you. oh! get some apple juice too. i keep having dreams about twelve year old me at a friend’s house. we’d sit at the kitchen island after school with graham crackers and apple juice, and i miss her. i miss those simple conversations. you’re so pure and magnetic. sometimes i wonder where you came from, but then i’m just glad you made it here—tumbled into my life because you did tumble. you’ve always made the story sound too elegant. the tumble was charming, i promise.”

hoseok: “you’ve been sharing recipes with me, or i guess i should say the final product of your recipes has been shared with me, repeatedly, and now i’m starting to wait for the knock on my door or the ring of a text. is that bad? i wouldn’t want you to ever think i’m demanding treats, but i love… i love the time we spend together when you bring them over, and your eyes sparkle when my expression changes because of how good everything always tastes… i love that too.”

jimin: “did you say everything you needed to yesterday? i swear your lips parted and you leaned in so many times to never say anything. i know it was a busy place, and it’s not that fun sitting at a table for twelve. but i was ready to listen. i’ll be ready at 2 am too. whatever you need. there’s something to this, right? to the ease of our conversations. you trust me?”

taehyung: “do you want to sculpt clay with me? i bought a whole bag and a bunch of tools. i thought about booking a private lesson, but i wanted my record player and access to a kitchen and the ability to get my hands dirty whenever i want to—need it. do you need it too? if not, keep me company while i try to make something?”

jungkook: “can i pick you up today? this is going to sound ridiculous, but your smell used to linger in my car, and i can’t quite make out the notes of your perfume anymore. i can imagine them, but they don’t meet me when i open the door… i can’t leave this as a voicemail on your phone. can i leave this as a voicemail on your phone? i sound insane.”

bonus: “i’m calling to tell you i’m proud of you. sometimes when we were kids, i used to think our dreams wouldn’t make it higher than the trees. i thought they’d get caught in the leaves, die on branches come winter, but look at us. look at you. you’re incredible. we did it.”

[bruhnze]

Apple tarts and tiramisu - Part 4

Other parts: part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Wordcount: idk 4k? , disclaimer, not proofread

After quite a short night you had woken up. You didn't want to wake Lucy because you knew how important rest was for an athlete and you kinda were the reason her important sleep was cut short.

You quietly freshened up in the bathroom and put on a t-shirt and panties. After that you made your way to the kitchen.

You searched through the cupboards and the refrigerator for something you could prepare for breakfast. You were low on almost everything, because you had not ran errands yet this week.

Usually you'd go to the supermarket, verdulero (greengrocer) and your mother's bakery to get all your weekly groceries, but this week you hadn't thought about it at all.

You thought about making something rich in protein, you had heard your friend about it enough times to know that was something the athletes needed.

You grabbed some danone yoghurt from your fridge and scooped it in a bowl. Laying some walnuts on it and put a little honey drizzel on top to make it look cute.

Then you went to search some more food, you had a little piece of bread left and decided to toast it and made some scrambled eggs to put on top of that. You had only one egg left so for yourself you just chose to put jam on yours.

You placed it nicely on the kitchen island, at the stool Lucy had now sat on a couple of times.

Then you decided you cold probably make her an iced matcha, as you had everything for it in- ah shit, you thought, you didn't have soy milk, only almond... You decided to just make one cup for now then, if she wouldn't like it with almondmilk you'd drink it and you made a mental note to bring some soy milk from the store.

While you stood with your back towards the kitchen, half crawled into the freezer, looking for the ice cubes you heard a low formilliar voice. ''Good morning y/n''

You looked up and turned around smiling ''goodmorning lucy, good sleep?''.

She streched out, she was only wearing briefs and a sportsbra, still you found it a shame she had put it on, because you remembered leaving the bed with a naked Lucy inside.

''Yeah i slept really good'' her answer pulled you out of your thoughts ''was a bit short tho'' she grinned.

''Oh, i hope i didn't wake you'' You said. She walked up to you and put her hands on your hips, just under you shirt. ''no you didn't wake me'' she said and leaned in to kiss you, but just before your lips met she wispered ''used me toothbrush dont worrie''.

It was a soft kiss, your hands cupped her face and you pulled back after ending the kiss with a couple more pecks on her lips ''made breakfast'' you smiled.

''mhm i smelled scrambled eggs when i woke up'' she hummed ''that made it a bit better''.

''what?'' you aked ''made what better''.

She kissed you again ''waking up in an empty bed'' she pouted.

You laughed ''ohh, for a second i thought there was something wrong, that your muscles acked or something''

Lucy wanted to stay serious but also laughed ''yeah my muscles acke a bit, but that not bad, that's just normal'' she tried to pull her face back together ''nah but i'm serious, i missed you''.

''I didn't want to wake you, sleep is important''' you put your hand on her chest and tilted your head ''and we all feel sad sometimes''

''Oh yeah, what your sad about'' Lucy asked genuin.

''well i liked the other outfit better, the one you slept in, i left you sleeping and now you wear this, but i guess it's allright'' you patted her shoulder and stepped away to finish the macha, by putting in the ice cubes.

''but I was wearing nothing?'' Lucy looked genuinly confused as she took place behind the counter on the stool.

You shrugged with a cheeky smile ''i said what i said''.

''Y/n!'' Lucy grinned ''you put in so much effort for this breakfast and now you make it seem like you want breakfast in bed''.

You didn't go along with it, pretended you didn't understand. You enjoyed playing with her. ''I can put this on a tray?'' you said ''but I'd rather just eat it here, anyway, I made macha, but its with almond milk and not soy, so I don't know if you drink that too ?''

Lucy had to switch gears for a moment but then you replied ''almond is fine too'' she smiled ''thank you for making breakfast''.

You walked over with the drink and sat it on the counter as you took place on her lap. ''made it with love'' you said ''but also with the last ingredients i had, so might have to go grocerie shopping today''.

She kissed you again, another soft kiss, her lips feeling tender on yours. Just gently sucking on your lower lip, before she moved to your top lip and gently pushed her tongue inbetween them. You opened your mouth a bit more and your own tongue joined her exploration.

Cought up in the kiss, which had happend a few times now the last days, the world shutting out when the kiss felt so right, you heard a throat clearing.

Lucy and you turned your heads at the same time, to were the sound had came from.

''Goodmorning!'' the figure said, whom you had now recognised as your mom.

Your cheeks went dark red, you felt caught, eventhough this was your own house.

You felt Lucy quickly removing her hands from your ass, and saw her leaving them hanging besides her body akwardly, not knowing what to do with herself.

''Goodmorning'' your mom tried again, with the same enthousiasm as the first time.

Now it was your turn to clear your throat ''hey mom, goodmorning'' you said with forced kindness in your voice ''what are you doing here?''.

''bring you bread!'' she said in broken english ''i haven't seen you in such a long time and i know you still have to eat, so i bring bread to you, because you had no time to pick up i see now!'' She smiled.

You walked over to your mom and took the bag from her ''thanks mom'' and gave her a hug anyway, eventhough you were very emberassed ''sorry'' you said softly, but Lucy heard it too.

''Yeah sorry'' she akwardly said as she stood up ''i would give you a hug also but im kinda bare''

''ah come here nena'' your mom smiled ''give me a hug''.

Your mom walked over to Lucy and they shared an embrace.

''Do you want a drink?'' you asked your mom, usually if she'd come to yours, she'd have a cup of tea.

''a glass of water'' your mom said ''i'll be away soon''.

You laughed at her poor english skills, but you were proud that she used what you had thought her.

The distraction of the conversation between you and your mom had Lucy taken to quickly retrieve some clothes and came back walking into the kitchen wearing her tracksuit and struggling to put on socks while she was walking.

Your mom sat down with the cup of water and Lucy took place next to her ''the tiramisu was really good'' she said.

You smiled because that was actually the most perfect thing she could've said. Your moms passion for food, or rather making food, could easily make her forget about all she had just witnessed and compliment about her food was even better.

''Ahh sii!'' your mom clapped her hands ''dessert always good!''

''Yes dessert is the best'' she winked at you without your mom seeing ''but your tiramisu was the best i had in my whole life''.

''gràcies Lucy, espero poder fer-ho per a tu moltes vegades més'' (thank you Lucy i hope i can make it for you many many more times)

Lucy tilted her head and stared at your mom thinking ''i dont, gràcies, yes that's, thank you but my catalan doesn't go further then that yet im affraid, moltes? that's many?''

''gràcies Lucy, espero poder fer-ho per a tu moltes vegades més'' (thank you Lucy i hope i can make it for you many many more times) Your mom repeated slowely.

Lucy shook her head, ''im sorry, i don't-

''we try in spanish'' your mom excitedly said ''gracias Lucy espero poder hacerlo muchas veces más''

''Ahhh, i hope i can make it for you many many more times'' she exclaimed.

''siii Luciii, muyy biennn'' your mom shared her excitement.

You on the other hand had gone a bit more silent, afraid your moms comment went a bit to far seeming as though you and Lucy were very much still very early days''.

Lucy looked over at you ''yo también lo espero'' (i hope that too) and then leaned over to your mom and wispered something in her ear ''quiero pedirle que sea mi novia pero tengo un poco de miedo'' (i want to ask her to be my girlfriend but i'm a bit afraid)

Your moms face lit up and you were now very curious what had been said, you cleared your throat ''it's rude to wisper in company''.

Your mom laughed ''sorry pequeña'' and turned towards Lucy ''but i think Lucia will tell you tonight over a dinner romántica''.

She rubbed Lucy's arm and stood up ''good luck, it will be fine'' she grinned, Lucy also stood up ''thank you, it was lovely to see you again Elena and sorry for the way you- we-

''It is okay pequeña'' your mom interupted her ''i only care if my bebita is happy, and i see she is very, so i am happy too'' she laughed ''it was my own fault, i will use doorbell from now on''.

''or just call or text if you plan to come over'' you called after her.

''està bé, ho faré bebè'' (okay baby, i will) Your mom said as she walked out the door ''bye luciii''.

''Bye!'' Lucy said before she put her hands before her face and groaned. ''major bad impression''

''I feel ashamed too'' you said but walked over to her again too sit back on her lap ''but luckily it was just my mom, good move with the -the tiramisu was amazing-'' you mimicked her.

''Oh shut up, it's true, i wanted to tell her the next time i saw her at the shop'' Lucy took your hands, wich were fiddling with your necklace ''but i hadn't seen her since''.

''mkay, it's okay anyways, i like that she likes you'' you said ''but don't go to far'' you pointed at her chest, moving her hands along.

''Too far? that's not even possible, aren't you Catalans like known for close relationships and all that''.

''No, you know what i mean Bronze'' you said sternly ''wispering with my mom, joking around''.

''ooh, new nickname'' she grinned ''you can call me that more, i like the way you say it''

''it's the nickname for when i'm not happy with you'' you said ''so i don't think you want that Bronze''.

''It was nothing'' Lucy huffed ''i just wanted to ask her something''.

''about tonight?''

''yeah, well, no... i asked her something and i-, want to ask if you want to go to dinner with me tonight?''

You laughed ''your not making any sense, but dinner sounds good''.

''Good'' she grinned ''By the way, you know what i was thinking when your mom was here''

''yeah?'' you encouraged her to go on.

''that i was sooooo gladddd that i was wearing my underwear, that was naked enough for me'' she palmed her face ''that was bad enough to be honest''.

''well my mom promised she'll knock from now on'' you said seductively, pulling her hand away from her face ''and no one else has a key''.

She looked up at you, when she read you face she obliged and leened in to continue were the two of you had been interrupted earlier.

/////

It was the end of the day, almost time for dinner. Lucy had told you she was going to get dressed at home quickly and would pick you up in 45 minutes, leaving you some time to get ready aswell.

The morning had ended with sex on the kitchen island, wich had continued in the shower. After that the two of you had walked to the supermarket and greengrocer, skipping the bakery from your mom, as the bread had already been home-delivered.

Lucy had carried the three bags, and she would hear you about helping her ''you do it all by yourself normally'' she had said ''so i can handle it easily'' resulting in a scoff from you.

Back at home she was helping you put the groceries away ''just let me'' you had said as she didn't know were you kept everything. ''No just show me, next time i'll know it'' she had said. The comment had made you happy, it had gave you the idea that she did really like you the way you started to like her.

You had decided on a black dress, and was looking for some shoes to wear under it as the doorbell rang.

''Geez your fast apple tarts'' you snickered through the intercom.

''Yeah and the car is kinda blocking the way, so i hope you are ready, or should a drive another time around the block'' Lucy called back.

''No just my shoes, be right there''

''i'll be in the car''

As you came out of the building she quickly got up out of the car, resulting in a honking horn from the car behind.

''Don't worrie'' Lucy laughed ''he just pulled up behind me 30 seconds ago''. She held the door open for you and you stepped in the car.

She got back behind the wheel and quickly drove off, not wanting to anger the person behind her any longer.

'Nice car'' you said, eyeing the vehicle.

''thanks, its Barca's tho, every player gets one to use while they're in contract with the club''

''cool'' You said, not caring a bit about cars, just having said that because the car was clean and smelled fresh, actually knowing nothing more than that. You barely knew what your own car was called.

''Nice dress'' Lucy said as she layed her hand on your knee.

You turned to her, she wore a blouse and some slacks, which she pulled of very well, but you were most intrigued by her jewlery, you hadn't really seen her with it often, only when she came in the coffee store on a free day.

Tonight she was wearing a small golden nosering, earrings and some other things but the rings pulled your attention most. Something about it made her look hot, her veiny hands with those chunky rings.. ugh, you put your hand on hers.

''You look very good yourself'' you said.

''Thank you'' she said shyly.

You chuckled at her shy smile.

''what?'' Lucy asked you, still looking at the road ahead, navigating through the centre of Barcelona.

''Nothing'' you said softly ''i just noticed that you are more shy with words than with actions, i think it's cute''.

''Actions?''

''Yeah, like you have your hand on me now, but you get shy when i say that you look very hot''.

She smiled ''physical confidence is one positive thing coming from being an athlete, and i chose it because i was dead shy, or it chose me maybe''.

''hmm'' you put your hand on her knee now, removing it from her hand that was still on yours ''Do you still ever experience obstacles due to your shyness? or is it better now?''

She smiled and tenderly pinched your knee ''yes, when im around a pretty girl''.

''Shut up'' you laugh ''im serious''.

''Yes i am serious, but okay another example, when i met yfs/n the other day'' Lucy looked at you quickly ''i was pretty nervous''.

''Meeting yfs/n? my yfs/n?''

''yes, i wanted her to like me''

You grabbed her hand ''she likes you very much, she asks about meeting you again a lot'' you laughed ''i think everyone i know will love you just like me, it seems to go that way anyways, i mean my mom this morning, god, if it had been anyone else i bet she would've flung her shoe at you, i was surprised actually, that she-

You looked over at Lucy who had became silent but wore a broad grin on her face.

''Dont be so happy with yourself'' you squeezed her hand ''it was still embarrassing''.

''eek, yeah not that'' Lucy said ''what you said before''.

She turned her hand around below yours and entangled your fingers with hers.

''everyone i know will like you?'' You searched back through everything you had said.

''ohw'' Lucy said visibaly dissapointed.

''what tell me?''

''No nevermind i just thought you said something -

Then it struck you ''omg im sorry, i hadn't meant for it too slip out like that'' you said shocked.

''So you did mean it?'' she asked carefully.

''yeah but i was actually kinda trying to not say it yet'' you said ''didn't want to scare you away''.

''me too''

''me too?''

''i had the same thoughts, and i also didn't want to move too fast for you''

You laughed 'we're still dancing around it''.

''Say it properly then''. Lucy squeezed your hand.

''I took the first step!'' you called out.

''Yeah but i'm taking the biggest one''

You didn't understand her but she told that you'd see what she meant soon. After that you had told her you loved her and Lucy had said it back.

////

''Quite a fancy place'' you said as she parked her car.

''Only the best for my love'' she swooned.

''ah new nickname!'' you said excitedly

''mhmm'' 'now wait here, i'll open the door''.

She walked around the car.

''im glad chivalry still exists'' you joked as she opened the door for you.

Lucy jokingly bowed ''my lady'' she said as she took your hand. Making you giggle.

////

..

Lucy had ordered a dessert for the two of you to share. She wasn't up for the tiramisu you suggested saying ''It won't be as good as your moms'' and had chosen something else. You were stuffed anyways and thought wouldn't have room for dessert.

While you two waited on the dessert to be served you sipped at your drink, Lucy wasn't drinking but had said she didn't mind you drinking, you didn't want to drink alone but she had ordered you a specific glass of wine anyways. It was delicious, she had great taste.

''Would you be my girlfriend?''

You looked up at her laughing ''what is this kindergarten?''

She looked at you with a startled face.

''im kidding Lucy! a joke, sorry''

''and?'' she asked.

Now you looked at her startled.

''i know we've only known eachother for a month and a bit but-

''Yes'' you interrupted her.

She smiled and took your hand ''good, now it's exclusive''.

You raised an eyebrow ''it's been exclusive for me since the beginning''

''good to know'' she smirked ''oh me too ofcourse'' she said realising that was what you were after, ''but i just liked to say it, feels good''.

''mmh, guess it does'' You smirked ''but eating dinner with my date, and sharing a dessert with my girlfriend, doesn't sound very exclusive''

Lucy laughed ''stupid''

''Your girlfriend is stupid'' you joked, just as the waiter came with the dessert, you blushed and hoped he hadn't heard it, that would've come across way worse than it was.

As the waiter walked away again Lucy burst out laughing ''that's what you get, talking bad about my girlfriend.''

...

''Oh my, this is actually good'' you said as she had fed you a bite.

''i told you'' she laughed ''but im surprised i am the one showing you a spanish dessert''.

''Yeah if i do take a dessert, i always go for tiramisu'' you shrugged ''or icecream if they dont have that''.

''hmm'' Lucy said thoughtfully ''i had presumed you were more adventurous, but apparently i was wrong''.

'well' you said as you took another bite '' i gues i never looked into it, just chose what i knew'' you looked at her ''but you can be my guide''.

''for the adventures?''

''yeah bronzey, show me around in dessertland'' you wispered.

She gulped, clearly getting your dirty inside joke ''you seem to know your way around quite well''.

Your eyes widend, the way she said that it sounded like she was calling you a slut.

She realised it too as soon as the words had left her mouth and slapped her hands before her mouth 'i did not mean it like that''.

You leaned close to her ''your lucky because I happen to have a rule that my girlfriend can call me a slut, only in certain occasions of course, but i'll forgive you for now and you can try again later''

As you sank back into your seat you shot her a wink.

You saw her clenching the armrest with her hand and swalowing hard.

-------

more parts

[harrywavycurly]

Sarahhh that thing with Eddie hearing you talk to someone on the phone can you do it where he hears you talking about him in bed please!!!!!🫠💕

Hiiiii babes!! I’m laughing because I have like 3 other asks about this in my inbox and I honestly didn’t even think of doing this so of course I’ll do it for y’all! I hope you enjoy this😂💖

TW: lots of sex talk, mentions of oral and choking

*Eddie thought he’d surprise you with lunch but turns out he’s the one getting surprised*

“No he’s never done that.” You answer as you get comfortable on the couch after you prop your phone against your bottle of water on the coffee table. You’re currently in the middle of a catch up session with one of your oldest friends, you’ve been on FaceTime with her for the last hour and now as usual the conversation has moved on to talking about your relationship with Eddie. “He doesn’t really like a lot of PDA.” You add as you take a few pieces of popcorn from the bowl that’s sitting in your lap as you watch your friend make lunch through the phone.

“He doesn’t like it? Why?” She asks as she puts two pieces of bread in the toaster. You just shrug as you eat another handful of popcorn. “Has he ever choked you in the middle of it?” You nearly spit out the half chewed popcorn in your mouth making your friend laugh as she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“You went from asking if he grabs my ass in the mini mart to now asking if he just randomly chokes me in the middle of having sex?” You confirm just to make sure you actually heard her ask what you think you did. She just laughs and nods as she begins making herself a sandwich. “I mean no he doesn’t just choke me all willy nilly it’s usually a…sort of vibe that’s known from the beginning that it’s gonna be one of those kinda nights.” You explain as you reach for your cup of juice from the coffee table.

“Ohhhh I see so you two are kinda freaky huh? Love that for you.” You just roll your eyes as you take a sip from your cup. “How often is he giving it to you?” She asks before taking a bite out of her sandwich, you purse your lips and raise an eyebrow as you put the cup back on the table.

“I mean you’re going to have to be more specific.” You watch her give you some playful side eye as she takes another bite out of her sandwich. “Do you mean how often do we have sex in general or how often do we have a quickie…or how often am I getting bent over and sent to pound town?” You can’t even finish your sentence before she’s laughing and covering her face because you know she hates the expression of pound town.

Eddie feels his cheeks get red and he wants to die on the spot, he knows he should’ve let his presence be known the moment he entered the house though the back door but he didn’t want to disturb you. But now he’s very much wishing he did as he can’t help but overhear your very personal conversation with your friend. To think all he wanted to do was surprise you with lunch from Benny’s since he managed to get off work early.

“Jesus you have categories? Well okay the how often are you two having quickies and where are these quickies taking place?” You can’t help but smile as a memory of you and Eddie in the back of his van creeps into your mind.

“I mean like once a week sometimes? The man drives a van…it’s like made for quickies he even has a pillow and blanket back there because he knows I refuse to just lay down on his gross ass carpeted floorboard.” Eddie runs a hand over his face as you talk and explain that he drives a damn shaggin waggin.

“Once a week isn’t bad…that’s about the same amount of times I can convince Tyler to go down on me.” You make a gross face at the mention of her current hookup buddy.

“You shouldn’t have to convince him to go down on you…Eddie is perfectly content with having his face between my thighs all night…once he even fell asleep down there.” You watch her eyes go wide as she shoves another bite of sandwich into her moth. “I mean after I finished of course…he’s a gentleman.” You add making her just laugh and nod her head in agreement, Eddie is a total gentleman.

“Does he do that fancy tongue and finger combination thing?” She asks and Eddie swears his face is the same shade as a tomato as he lets out a silent groan and runs his hands through his hair.

“He does oh and sometimes he does this thing with his pinky where-” before you can finish your sentence you heard something that sounds like a door slam making you jump a bit.

“Hey baby!” You hear Eddie’s voice coming from the kitchen making you smile as you look over the back of the couch. “I’m home and brought you lunch.” He shouts as you grab your phone and head into the kitchen after putting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

“I’ll call you back later.” Your friend just smiles and nods before both of you say goodbye and hang up. You slide your phone into your back pocket and grin when you see Eddie standing there with a bag that says Benny’s on it. “Oh you’re just the best.” Eddie just laughs and shakes his head as he places the bag on the dinning table.

“You know me…always a gentleman.”

[stagefoureddiediaz]

7x05 promo meta

Thank you 911 for dropping those stills - its save you all from my terrible quality screen shots!

This was supposed to be a costume meta, and it is, but things rather got away from me so its got a bit of a mishmash of spec and the like in it! its probably incoherent but my brain is whirring!

Ok first things first - Firehouse!

Soooo whenever we've had firehouse scenes before between Buck and Eddie, the one not in uniform is the one receiving advice - Buck after he found out about Daniel, Eddie during the Black out etc. So I expect this scene to play to a similar theme.

The green jacket for Buck is an interesting one for me, green is all about growth - especially this shade of green. I think this scene will be the first time Buck and Eddie see one another in person - Buck perhaps re-apologising to Eddie, clearing the air, Eddie offering buck some advice (i don't know exactly what advice, but perhaps along the lines of not bottling things up and talking to him etc!).

The fact its a broadcloth jacket harks back to his shirt jacket from Eddies breakdown - that one was very red, so there's no direct connection to the meaning of that jacket from a colour theory perspective, but there is a wider theme connecting to the broadcloth - broadcloth is a fabric that was historically used for military uniforms (it still is) so the use of broadcloth has this element of going to war - unlike the red jacket that signalled danger and Buck going to 'war' to both get to Eddie and to then help him in the aftermath, this one is more likely to be a war related to Bucks 'bad behaviour' from the basketball game and I think and with the green of the jacket meaning growth, I expect this scene to show them on a more even footing - one where the one doesn't need to go to war for the other, because the 'war' is over, this is the aftermath now and Buck has grown (in the same way that Eddie was in green during and after his breakdown - he grew from that moment)

Date night - for Buck and Tommy

Firstly I want to mention the fact that Check theory is in overdrive for this scene - the check is literally everywhere - floor, tablecloths, walls, windows, the guy sat to the side of Tommy. Something is clearly going to happen that is going to lead to some sort of chaos. My money is on Check shirt guy suddenly becoming ill and interupting both dates (call back to Buck choking on bread would be chefs kiss imo as that was Bucks first proper date!!).

I originally thought his was the same shirt Buck wore when he was trying to donate sperm - however, turns out it isn't it isn't, this is a knit bowling shirt while the one from the sperm donation storyline was a knit polo (no buttons all the way down the front). I do think the remarkable similarity between the two shirts is relevant though. because Buck trying to donate sperm, was Buck trying to start a new life, but it was a false start when he was wearing the similar shirt (because the power was out at the clinic) and he is essentially doing the same thing here - he's on his first 'date with a dude' and is starting a new life as a bisexual man - only it seems he's probably going to try and hide it from Eddie - thus a false start in the same way his first attempt to donate sperm was. thing is, Buck was successful in making his donation in the end, so even if he has a couple of false start in this episode, he'll be successful in the end (see the end of this meta for the reason why!!)

Tommy is in brown (possibly a dark olive green, but it looks more brown to me at this moment in time!). Brown is of course one of Eddies staple colours, so we are continuing with the Tommy Being costumes as a version of Eddie!

But Brown is a colour of stability and strength - its solid ground. It's showing us that Tommy is completely comfortable in his sexuality (whatever denomination of queer he is as we don't know at this point!). Its also a colour of safety support and protection (its why many police and military uniforms around the world are brown - meant to invest a sense of protection - a reflection of what that job is supposed to be!). for me thats playing on the idea that Tommy is going to protect and support Buck on this date - Buck not wanting to come out to Eddie in that moment and Tommy supporting that and protecting Bucks right to chose when and how he gets to come out to the people in his life (and I adore him for that!) is my guess on why he's wearing brown here.

Eddie and Marisol's date night

(as an aside - Bucks face in the still below is hilarious!!)

I already mentioned the pink handbag in my 7x04 meta, but now we also have a pink skirt to add into the mix and its a ditsy print of two shades of pink, which not only further supports my pink and innocence theory about this season, but it also plays into how both Shannon and Ana were costumes as well - in lots of pink and in ditzy prints!!! Marisol (who doesn't even have a last name) is not long for the world of 911 - if it doesn't end in this episode, its gonna be over very very soon! She is going to essentially be an innocent bystander in whatever the hell is going to go down at this date night fun house we're about to see, whether her seemingly naive personality (well what little personality she seems to have!) plays into things as well, we'll have to wait and see!

The other aspect of this outfit that is making me laugh is the fact that the skirt is giving me 1980's/early 1990's teen vibes (not to out myself as old but trust me I had some just like this back then and I wouldn't be caught dead in it now as a grown woman!!) and the baby pink handbag looks like something an 8 year old would have to play dress up with - its all very childish and immature - naive one could say, and its suggesting to me that we're going to see some pretty childish behaviour from her at some point in this episode (we'll have to wait and see if I'm right!). The other aspect oof this childish style we're seeing on her plays into Eddies narrative of looking for magic and trying to recreate what he had with Shannon. Its for me one of the reasons why i think we have s2 Eddies hair back, especially this greased back version in this scene - its a nod to his s2 arc when he tried to recreate the magic with Shannon. Eddies journey is about learning that he cannot recapture or recreate that magic he had when he was young - that the love of youth - in all its innocence is not something that is sustainable or actually what he wants in the present. for me, him figuring this out is an important part of his wider un-repression arc and will allow him to move forward and learn that he needs to build a relationship on a stronger foundation that magic and innocence. That (ghost of a) second chance with Shannon ended up as a literal car crash (sorry to be blunt but it was a metaphor back then too!) so my feeling is that this is going to go the same way - and end in a figurative (at least) car crash.

As for the chain necklace! you can read my 6x15 metas for a fuller run down this one is the most comprehensive one (and theres some stuff lurking on other meta posts as well) but essentially every single one of Buck or Eddies girlfriends have worn a chain necklace (there is also a bracelet too, which I think Marisol wore in 7x01 but her scene was so blink and you'll miss it that I can't get a good still to be sure!) of this style - I never did get to writing the full meta on the chain necklaces I intended - the season 6 finale rather deflated my enthusiasm to do so, but I can talk about it here so, things worked out I guess!

Chains are a representation of incarceration, or of holding something back. they are a huge symbol of slavery and are used in derogatory terms when used to talk about relationships (the old ball and chain etc). This is why we see them on all the women connected to either Buck or Eddie, and never on any of the other female characters in the show - these women are essentially holding Buck and Eddie back, they are chains to be broken free of.

Then we have Eddie in his white shirt! There are a couple of reasons I am completely in love with this choice! firstly is the most obvious, it paints things very black and white for Eddie and Marisol - they are opposites! In this context, the wardrobe department are deliberately creating that opposition between them - and in combo with that pink bag and skirt - things aren't going to end well for them.

Black is a colour that sucks light and colour from things (yes there is the concept of the little black dress etc for dating but thats more about timeless elegance and Marisol is not wearing a black dress!) that absorbs everything around it - you can see in the picture below how the black of her top is absorbing the colour while Eddies white shirt is bouncing it around and glowing with the red - its especially obvious on her sleeve which is partially sheer and partially matt - the sheer parts are picking up the light, making the black non sheer parts still look black.

The other reasons I am living for the Eddie in a white shirt of it all is the fact that it really highlights that red lighting - this use of red - in this setting at that moment - when it doesn't appear to be anywhere else in the scene and certainly not around Buck and Tommy - can only mean danger and anger. Its telling us that Eddie is not happy - jealous definitely (that look is one of jealousy!) its also hinting at underlying anger though. My thoughts on this is that its playing into Eddie having to face up to his feelings for Buck - that he understands them, and perhaps feels like he missed his shot

The other reason I'm obsessed with the choice to put Eddie in a white shirt is this ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

Because yes that is Eddie in white and Buck in dark blue, and yes that is the only other time we've seen Eddie in white in the entire show (excepting white shorts in fight club and even they fit the theme we're seeing here). Seeing them in the same colour ways here is very much giving Buck and Eddie divorce era 3.0 (fight club/lawsuit was 1.0 and the one above was 2.0) vibes.

Having dinner with Buck (or in the same space as Buck) and his current partner and the blue and white (and green that Tommy is wearing which matches the green that Taylor was wearing) is definitely a choice. This scene in season 5 was essentially a Buck and Eddie break up - 'move on Buck, I have' - we all know how that spiral ended - with Eddie digging in with his leaving the 118 and excluding himself from the firefam and Buck cheating on Taylor and asking her to move in with him.

thing is Eddie has form for doing dumb things when he feels under stress or pressure (asking Shannon to marry him again, fight club after her death and Buck suing the firehouse, leaving the 118 and not getting the help he needed until he had a major breakdown to name 3!)- so if we saw some kind of parallel to this scene - (this is especially in light of Eddie talking to Bobby about the job in this episode) where Eddie doubles down on a poor decision (don't know what but I'm currently speculating that its maybe asking Marisol to move in with him way way too soon - when he doesn't know her - hello episode title) in the same way Buck did with Taylor (because he is faced with the fact he could've had a chance with Buck after-all and is emotionally cheating on Marisol) and it plays into

I'm not saying we're going to be getting rid of Marisol in 7x05 (unfortunately) but I am saying the writing is on the wall for that relationship - there are too many costuming signs on both Eddie and Marisol for it not to be headed in the direction of ending. My guess from what I'm seeing with these costumes and that lighting, is that 'Ghost of a second chance' is when it will come to a head - it plays into the theming of Shannon redux and car crashes, learning from past mistakes before you repeat them.

And finally we're at Bucks loft!

Not saying this is at the end of the episode - I have zero idea where its going to land - every time I see a new still from it I'm more confused and decide its going to be at a different point of the episode!

Anyway, thats not important! Eddie is in his Buck 'date night' shirt - the one he wears when he has serious talks with Buck in the loft. thing that is different this time, is the fact he's in jeans rather than the green trousers he's worn on every other occasion. Something about that is making me feel like, while this scene is likely to be similar in that its going to be a serious talk, and I'm sure from the way it looks in the stills we're going to see Eddie reassuring Buck as we have in previous scenes, I think we might find this one is going to give us Buck and Eddie on a more even footing that we've seen before.

I'm fascinated that the Christopher watch is not visible in the above still, but it's very visible in the below one, and in the other stills we've got. We don't often see it hidden under eddies sleeves - we usually see it more like we can see it in the date night stills - visible with the shirt slightly tucked underneath. haven't figured out if its going to be significant or not yet - I need to see the scene!

We do have to talk about the looks they are giving each other here though - especially Buck!!! because I mean!!!! its kind of giving me don't keep things from me again vibes!!

I am very much loving that they put Buck in this jumper though! it is the one from the sperm donor storyline - when Buck tells Eddie, Hen and Chim he is 'responsible for creating new life.' I love this specific parallel because there is the play on the fact that Buck is now living a new life - that he's figured something out about himself - that he's creatinga new life forhimself - one where he is bisexual, and openly so (as we know he's going to tell people in this episode and hell he might be telling Eddie in this scene!). the other thing is that this light blue colour, throughout season 6 became a real representation of Buck journey of self discovery - all the way back to Lev at the happiness convention and his year of yes, right through to post Lightning strike Buck who was trying to wrestle with his death and his rebirth - the light blue here really ties all of this together beautifully

Right thats All at this point - I'm sure my brain will conjure up other things once i've hit post, but for right now - I'm off to bed!!

@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @bewilderedbuckley @spotsandsocks @bewitchedbewilderedbisexual@rogerzsteven @wanderingwomanwondering @oneawkwardcookie @leothil @copyninjabuckley @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @katyobsesses @radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @bi-moonlight @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sherlocking-out-loud @satashiiwrites @lover-of-mine @yramesoruniverse @extasiswings @favouritealias @pop-kam

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 8

Pairing: Azriel x third-oldest-Archeron-sister!Reader

A/N: Writing Nesta post-acosf is so confusing so I apologise if she’s a little ooc!

Word Count: 5,552

-Part 7- -🌌🌠- -Part 9-

It’s been while since you last ate with all of them.

Even so, the atmosphere is familiar. Jovial. Pleasant enough you can allow yourself to slip into spectation, vanishing in your mind’s eyes, becoming an observer without presence. Shadows flicker at the corner of your vision, and you’re brought back down to reality.

The restaurant lights are warm and yellowy, a magic barrier constructed at the room’s border to keep the temperature pleasantly mild, inky darkness swirling just beyond the threshold. Candles flicker, almost in time with his shadows. It’s hard to tell when natural darkness ends and his begins. But he doesn’t really like it when people stare at them, so you avert your eyes. Scratch the backs of your hands beneath the table, softened a little by cream.

By what you can only assume was a stroke of bad luck—or good, depending how you want to feel for the rest of the night—everyone had already settled into the dinner by the time you arrived, leaving a single seat open. Yes, you could’ve pulled over a chair, or requested one to be magically summoned, but that would be drawing attention to the issue, which would undoubtedly make the ineffable off-ness of your relationship with him that much more blatant.

So there he is, a steady presence to your left, situated at one end of the table. Elain to your right. How unfortunate. Or lucky, depending on the angle.

Take a sip of your water, unsticking your tongue from the roof of your mouth. Lean slightly over to your sister. “Have I missed anything?” Cocoa flick to you, warm and soft in the mellow light, a little tired. Half-circles beneath her eyes. “Nothing much. I was planning on visiting Lucien again—hopefully within the week.” She answers mildly, a faint smile in her eyes. “There’s also a possibility of Nesta going over to have a look at the libraries in the Day Court.”

“Woah,” you mumble. “Looking for anything in particular, or simply for recreation?”

Elain shrugs, eyes flicking across the table. “Ask her,” she says simply.

Spine stiffens.

With fae hearing, plus the close proximity, there’s a high chance everyone heard that exchange. Refusing to do so will only draw more attention. You shoot Elain a reproachful look for putting you in this situation but she smiles encouragingly.

You find the elegant shape of your eldest sister a little further down the table—across and two over. Opposite Cassian who is beside Elain. Sharp eyes flit to your own a second after you’ve sought her out—she definitely heard. At least you didn’t vocalise any dismay over the forced interaction.

“Day Court?” You inquire, raising your brows in interest. She nods, lips parting in a smile, “quite the trip, isn’t it.” You laugh—trying to remember where the Day Court is in conjunction with Night. Come up short. “Already read through all the books here?” You reply, trying to keep the conversation fluid. Gaze absently flicks over the various plates and trays of food, picking out the things you’d like to try. A waft of something delicious floats down the table—a covered bowl sits between Rhys and Feyre. Soup, most likely. It has your mouth watering from the scent alone. Would be divine with some buttered bread.

“Nowhere near,” she responds, still smiling. “But there’s a particular author we’re after, and I’d like to see if I can find more of his books in those libraries.” You hum, nodding your head in acknowledgement. “Different from The Runaway?” She blinks, then nods, “you’ve read it already?”

“Yeah. Finished it last week,” you answer, peering at the dishes closer to you, wonder what you can pick. It’s mostly meat. Some roast potatoes, poultry next along covered in an orange-red sauce that smells spicy.

“What did you think?” She asks, carefully ladling gravy to the edge of her own plate. It’s your turn to blink, recalling the story to the forefront of your mind. Exhale heavily, leaning back into the chair. “I don’t know, really,” you admit honestly, “there was a lot in it, I suppose. I’m still digesting it, in a way. Do you know what I mean?” She nods, eyes softening at the edges—you’ve said the right thing. “I think there’s a lot in it; a lot happened to him, and I think it did a good job on highlighting how perspective can be manipulated. I also like how the creature was only alluded to in earlier chapters while the first part of the plot was unfolding so you end up overlooking it?”

She gracefully cuts through a potato, dipping it in the gravy before neatly depositing it in her mouth. Elegant and refined. “Yes, I thought that was an interesting way of telling his story. The complications between Yvette and Hans helped with the initial distraction, I think.” Lips twists into a slight frown. “The section—I think around chapter seventeen? Eighteen…?” You pause, picturing how far through the book it was, then shake your head. “Around there, anyway. The section about those lights in the sky?— I had to put the book down for a bit.” You admit, smiling as you recall the passage.

Nesta nods her head. “I couldn’t believe it, either. I think I actually had to stand up and get myself another cup of tea to calm down when he connected the dots.” A grin parts your lips wider, skin warming at the memory. “Anyway,” you say, redirecting the conversation, “a different author.”

She nods in confirmation, “a different author.”

“Romance?” You ask, remembering her appreciation for the genre.

Something passes through the room, hairs slowly raising at the back of your neck. Eyes slide to Elain, but she’s conversing with Cassian, attention shifted away from you. Gaze flicks back to Nesta who has a tight smile on her lips—it’s still odd to see her smiling so openly and frequently.

“No, actually,” she begins slowly, cutlery lowering to her plate. Her fingers remain pressed tight to the metal. “It’s a spell-book,” she says, silvery-blue eyes gleaming like moonlight despite the warm glow about the private space. Brow furrows a little as you peer at her across the table, “a spell-book?” You ask. “What do you need a spell-book for?” Her spine straightens, attention moving to her meal as she slices into some meat, mouth opening to continue.

“The baby warrior’s been having doubts about his wingspan, I’ll bet,” Amren croons from across the table, snatching your attention. Your brow dips further, eyes now shifting to find Cassian further down the table—the other side of Elain. He seems fine, laughing brightly. “Is there a problem with them?” You ask Nesta, remembering how torn up they’d been after the mess with Hybern and the cauldron.

She shakes her head, lips lifting into a grin as she meets Amren’s steel-coloured eyes. “She’s just jealous,” Nesta returns, “Varian not treating you well?” Sharp eyes flash with challenge. “Maybe they should compare notes. I’m sure your mate could learn a thing or two,” she taunts, effectively ending your conversation with Nesta. A part of you wants to learn more—your natural inclination—but Amren’s whisked her away into conversation, Mor stuck between them.

Attention again flits to Elain, but she’s still contained in conversation with Cassian, leaving only the keen pair of eyes on your left to entertain yourself with. Raise the glass to your lips, forcing down a mouthful of the alcohol, ignoring the light pulsing in the forefront of your head. Skin prickles beneath his attention, fingers shifting over your cutlery as you move to take food to your plate.

It seems rude to interrupt Elain’s conversation—you always go to her first. She speaks to people other than you, and probably enjoys doing so. You should leave her to enjoy the night. Take another drink of the clear liquid, shadows flickering in your peripherals as you set your sights on Nesta. Wait for an opening.

“What do you want the spell-book for?” You ask, feigning ignorance to their conversation. As if the question just appeared on your tongue, falling out before you could stop it. Two sets of sharp eyes cut to you, a single set of caramel flicking to steel warily. “A containment spell,” Nesta answers, slicing up some vegetables on her plate. “To bind.”

Amren’s lip curls into a distinctly predatory grin, almost warning. “Needing to spice things up so early in your relationship?” She croons. “I would have given it at least another few months before you two were in need of a bonding activity.” A fourth pair of eyes joins the discussion though he’s still wrapped in his own exchange. The hazel to your left has probably been observing for some time, too.

Nesta offers the petite female a tight smile, equally warning. Mor claps her hands, hastily breaking up the exchange. “Will you pass that down? Cass, be a dear and— no, next to it— the other side—yes! Thank you!” You watch slightly enviously as she ladles soup into a bowl, taking a slice of fluffy bread and slathering butter over its surface. Trace the soup as it’s returned to its place at the far end of the table, between Rhys and Feyre, one seat down from Nesta and Cassian.

And just like that, dialogue ebbs and flows around, leaving you with no way in. You’re quite glad for the reprieve. These dinners generally leave you in need of a weeks sleep to recover, by which point the next one is already scheduled. Exhausting. You don’t know how they manage it. Attention is still weighing on you as you raise your cutlery, poised to begin slicing into the meat upon your plate.

Elain is still preoccupied—to your steadily growing dismay. Nesta and Amren are locked in a verbal sparring match, while Mor chimes in here and there, occasionally attempting to rope Cassian in, too. Just to stir things up. Shadows flicker in the background.

His attention is becoming difficult to ignore. Clear your throat softly, focusing on cutting through the meat, slicing it into bitesized chunks. “Is something the matter, Azriel?” Shift the cutlery in your hands, easing up the pressure on your knuckles from the effort of cutting. He watches silently, his own plate clean and empty.

“Not at all,” he replies quietly, voice unliltling and void of inflection. Your brow twitches toward the centre, neatly spearing a chunk of flesh. Swallow in preparation. “Nothing?” You question, equally softly, biting down on the dead animal. It comes apart easily on your tongue, softened in a skillet somewhere, bathed in oils and rosemary, sprinkled with salts and spices. Force yourself to chew and swallow. “Nothing,” he repeats back, hazel eyes resting on your jaw, flicking to meet your gaze.

Finish your mouthful, move to the next sliver. Spike it on your fork. Half raise it from the plate then stop, lowering it quietly. “What are you watching?” You ask, eyes flicking down to your plate, skipping away from his. “Many things,” he answers vaguely. Shadows flicker at his back, wreathing his wings, tucking behind them. “I’d rather not be part of those things,” you murmur, finally biting down on the tender flesh. Chew enough so it’s digestible, then swallow. Think about nice things, like the books at the house, golden eyes, and dried flowers. “You’re in public,” he replies, tone still without inflection. “That’s an impossible request.”

Three pieces left, and it’ll be done.

“You can look elsewhere instead of staring a hole in my head,” you murmur. “Maybe,” you add hastily, softening the sharp suggestion. These situations always put you a little on edge. So many people.

He’s quiet for a bit, but his attention doesn’t shift, despite his gaze moving to be further down the table. You manage another chunk of meat, teeth dully masticating as you grind the flesh down, focusing on the herbs and spices in place of the ashen, earthy flavour of the animal carcass.

Azriel’s attention weighs into you, skin prickling, hairs raising at the back of your neck as you try to ignore it. It’s probably being exacerbated by your imagination. Raise the fifth and final piece to your mouth, thinking about rotating planets and cocoa, of whiskey and caramel as your teeth bite and chew absently. He’s still observing; you shift in your chair, swallowing the mouthful. Reach for your glass, gulp down the clear liquid.

Nearly choke, the alcohol burning your throat. Nose scrunches before you can help it, covering your mouth with the napkin while you cough as quietly as possible. Elain pats you on the back making you smile as you overcome the initial shock. “Something go down the wrong way?” She asks, lips curving in a grin she’s clearly attempting to suppress in favour of a more sympathetic expression. Puts those attempts to rest when you laugh quietly, nodding to the liquid. “Too eager,” you whisper, refolding the napkin. Elain covers her own mouth, shoulders shaking with muffled mirth; you shoot her a playful glare.

Mor, sitting opposite Elain; beside Nesta, breaks from her conversation with the two, attention flitting to you, as if she had been lying in wait for her chance. “So!” She says, golden hair shining resplendent beneath the glow, like a flame encased in honey. “When shall we go shopping?” Her hands clap together, red lips parting in a friendly smile.

Oh.

You’d blessedly forgotten that promise of hers.

Swallow uneasily. “It’s fine… The polish and lip tint were lovely,” you smile, hoping she’ll leave it be. “Nonsense,” she chirps, collecting a few more roast potatoes onto her plate, Amren gingerly taking a few after her, nose almost wrinkling with suspicion. “You love books, and I apparently need a reason to spend time with you, so a shopping trip is perfect!” You offer her what you hope is a steady smile, one that disguises the strain you’re feeling, “I don’t want to be a bother—it’s fine, really. There are plenty of books in the library, anyway, and I’ve barely made it through the first two levels.”

Brows shoot up to her hairline. “Every book? You’ve been reading all of them?” You blink at her surprise, then hesitantly dip your head. Anxiety bubbles in your stomach, hands gripping one another as tension slices through your shoulders. “Are they— Am I not supposed to?”

“Oh, no! Nothing like that. Read away!” She laughs, raising her hands in a calming gesture. “I hadn’t expected your interests to be so different, is all,” she smiles. “I tried to read a couple from the library when I was younger and nearly bored myself to tears.” You smile faintly, relaxing back into your chair. “I guess they’re not for everyone,” you reply, posture softening against the back of your seat.

Mor laughs, the sound like wind chimes caught on a stray breeze, golden hair glinting in the warm light. You have to look away. It feels wrong to even look at her—to try and place her individual beauties. Peer down at your empty plate, hunger gnawing at your stomach lining. You should have remembered to eat before coming along.

“So what about tomorrow?” She asks, dipping buttered bread into her bowl. Raise your head to look at her, confusion lining your brows. She smiles easily, “for a shopping trip, of course.”

“Not every creature enjoys being put through your endless chatter, Mor,” Amren snipes from her side. The blonde female pouts, throwing a glare to the petite Fae on her right.

Warm toffee eyes flick to cocoa, brightening with an idea, “Elain could come along too!” Spine goes rigid, every ounce of willpower straining to keep from glancing to your left, wondering what he’s thinking. Swallow heavily, stiffening as your older sister is brought into the discussion. Mor smiles eagerly, “what do you say, Elain? Fancy a shopping trip tomorrow?”

Nails slice into your palms, piercing small crescent shapes into your skin—you’ve been trying not to bite them. Press further back into your seat, muscles coiling with anxiety. Not both of them.

You can practically feel the moment steely silver eyes pick up on your reluctance, like she has a sixth sense for picking at scabs. But Elain sighs apologetically, “that would be lovely, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline this time.” Relief washes over your skin, bathed in a cool breeze. “I told you so,” Amren snickers to the blonde female.

Mor’s brows dip together, “oh, piss off Amren. I know you like picking out clothes to wear for Varian with me.” The cunning female raises her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replies smoothly, Mor’s lips twitching at the obvious denial.

Turn to Elain, taking in the natural glow of her features. “Have plans?” You ask quietly, hand absently resting over your stomach. Involuntarily glance at the soup further up the table, tongue flicking out over your lips. She shakes her head, softly curled silky hair cascading over her slim shoulders. In your peripherals, you can make out how shadows stretch across the table, reaching. “I’ve been dreadfully tired lately,” she admits, equally hushed.

Brow furrows in concern, about to ask further, but Mor’s on you again. “Guess it’ll just be us tomorrow!” She smiles genuinely, excited for the plans. When you glance sidelong at your sister, she’s already settled back into conversation with Cassian, your youngest sister and her mate joining in. You nod in surrender, accepting it’s something that has to happen. It would be overtly rude to decline her invitation now.

“Great! We can squeeze in a lunch, too,” she grins, washing down the soup with a glassful of wine. “Maybe you can direct me to some of the more interesting library books,” she suggests, eyes sparking with excitement. You nod again, fatigue beginning to weigh on your shoulders. It’s nice watching them, but you frequently forget how draining it is to be involved.

Lean back into your chair, pulling your stomach in as you feel pressure grow—you’d die of embarrassment if it started growling. Hastily drink some more in attempts to fill it up. Hungrily eye the plates of food. Maybe the poultry wouldn’t be too bad with the sauce—chicken was hard to come by all those years ago.

A delicious scent catches your attention, shadows skittering away as he silently ladles soup into his bowl. Nobody asks about the shuffling round of plates. Stomach rumbles and you flush, hands clamping over your stomach as humiliation burns along your skin. Mouth almost watering, but you force yourself to wait; appear only mildly interested in the food. An appropriate amount of attention for a dinner.

His hand knocks into the bowl, pushing it aside to make room for another dish, so it’s to his right. Almost subtle enough to appear accidental.

Still, you finally help yourself to the soup, equal parts affection and shame weighing in your gut.

————

The night air is crisp and cool, soothing the warmth of your skin as you follow quietly a way behind the group.

Feyre and Rhys have already made their way home, not liking to spend too long away from Nyx, despite knowing he’s well cared for. There seems to be discussion ahead of taking things further for the night, perhaps more drinking.

After having left the restaurant, Nesta had sought you out. You’d been surprised to say the least—a little on edge—but it had been nothing to worry about. She’d merely extended an invitation for you to join her on their trip to the Day Court. Perhaps to seek out some books you’d been interested in, she’d suggested.

You’d politely declined.

Now you turn to Elain, the darkness bringing out the slight dip below her eyes. “You okay?” You ask, the chatter of the streets soothing background noise. Fading to a constant hum in the back of your mind, falling into the empty recesses. She nods, sighing heavily. “I’ve been having some trouble sleeping,” she replies quietly. “And, I’ve…” shakes her head. “Maybe I’m coming down with something,” she sighs again. “You always were more prone to sickness than the rest of us,” you reply, nudging her shoulder playfully.

She smiles gently, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Maybe I’ll come and cough on you so you get ill for once,” she grins.

Nose wrinkles as you smile, “gross.” She laughs at that, then the two of you fall quiet, walking together in companionable silence. Trudging your way back to the River House, keeping fairly close to the main group who are still deciding whether or not to turn in for the evening.

You know you’ll be heading back to the House of Wind for the night.

Curious to see if a response has been written.

————

The House is quiet. Halls empty and silent as you pad down the corridor to your room.

Maybe you should check with Nesta whether she wants you to move out of here—switch to the River House. Anxiety slices at your gut, fatigue weighing your eyelids at the thought. You’re sure she’ll say something if she wants you out. You aren’t keen to initiate conversation with her unless necessary.

When you enter your room, candles are already lit, courtesy of the House. A few clothes lay on the floor, but it’s mostly clear. Almost tidy.

Parchment rests across your desk, and you eagerly hurry over.

Nothing has been added.

Excitement dies away, scratching at the backs of your hands absently.

Wearily take a seat, playing with the pen between your fingers, chewing on your lower lip. Debating the merits of bothering him when he’s taken no interest in your last comment.

Toss the thoughts out your window, throwing all caution to the wind.

Long day?

Bite down on your tongue, pulling at the top most layer of skin until you bleed. Wait for the paper to disappear. Seconds tick by, counting as they drain away. Steadily turning into minutes. Lean your cheek on the table, slumping forward as boredom creeps in, the pendant clunking as it hits the wooden surface of the table.

Do you remember your twenty-first birthday?

You aren’t particularly sure where the question comes from. Maybe the still-boxed jigsaw puzzle sitting atop a dusty stack of books has something to do with it.

Paper vanishes, and you perk up, straightening in your chair, fingers flexing. Excitement stirring in your chest. Absently reach for a pot of cream, unscrewing the lid as you trace the desiccated skin of your knuckles. Slowly soothe it in, rub the dips between your fingers, pretending your hands are someone else’s.

Parchment reappears, having you eagerly lean forward.

No.

You scowl at the curt response, twiddling the pen in your hands.

Sour and miserable indeed. Were my earlier questions not interesting enough to deign a response?

Letter vanishes, your feet tapping against the floor, fidgeting with the writing instrument. Turn to the anthology as you usually end up doing while waiting for his reply. Flip to the page you’d bookmarked, removing the silver embossed fabric. Lips quirk when you spot the title: Explosions: Rapid Division.

Shift the book so it’s in the centre of your desk, reading the introductory passage, instinctively scanning the diagrams with intrigue. Paper reappears atop the pages.

You forget I am a high-ranking individual with a multitude of tasks to attend to. I don’t get to spend my days simply lying around to pester the only person who’ll give me a scrap of attention.

Cheeks heat with embarrassment, yet you find yourself smiling at the familiar sharpness of his tongue. Ease out a deep breath, relaxing into your chair, flicking the pen in your dry fingers before lowering it to the parchment.

I think if you truly felt pestered, you wouldn’t be responding at all. Feeling lonely over there, Eris?

The paper vanishes, and you treat yourself to an image of his brows narrowing, lip curling as ire blazes in caramel eyes. Mouth widens into a smile as your feet tip-tap on the floor-boards, absently dipping your finger tips into the pot of cream again, putting more over the roughness of your skin as you wait patiently.

Parchment reappears, heartbeat picking up with excitement.

And what about yourself? The hell-cat is leaving for quite a while, isn’t she?

Lips part on a sharp exhale, spine straightening as your eyes flick about the room anxiously. How does he know that? Should you tell someone? Brow narrows in concentration, mind scrambling to think up a response that won’t give anything away, without sounding so vague he knows you’re avoiding the question. Swallow heavily, rubbing in the last of the cream, reaching for your pen. Lower it to the desk, and falter. What do you say? Is feigning ignorance too obvious?

The letter vanishes before you’ve had a chance to even put a speck of ink upon it, and it dawns on you that the question was timed. Picture the way his lips part is a slow smile as he sees the blank paper.

Manipulative bastard.

I suppose she’ll be taking the brute with her, too?

Fingers tighten on the pen, teeth grinding. Is this why he warned you about Eris? Because of how quickly he can extract information through carefully assembling pieces? Jaw tenses, but more silence will be confirmation.

How do you know any of that?

Chew on your lower lip as you await his reply, heart pounding. Azriel would be furious. Swallow down the nausea, teeth sliding beneath your nails—toeing the line of biting down, but restraining yourself.

Really, how do you think Court politics works? Of course we keep tabs on one another. I’m sure your shadowsinger has plenty of spies littered throughout Prythian. Possibly further, too.

Blood ices, peering down at your necklace and the map contained within. Imagining how wide his net must be to thread throughout it all. How much work it must take to keep everything running. Ruthless discipline. How tiring it must be. The weight, the pressure to keep it all maintained.

Head beginnings swimming at the thought of it. Would you even be able to keep up with him?

Why are you telling me this?

The pen scratches over the parchment, struggling to keep lines clean through the slight tremor in your hands. You can’t even begin to comprehend how much work must regularly go into sustaining such a network.

It’s a little embarrassing that you don’t already know. What are they teaching you over there? How to be an emotional burden?

The words hit sharp in your chest, hooks latching into the soft, vascular muscle of your heart. Poised to shred in an instant. Awaiting for the split second of weakness to rip. Rupture the organ in a clean tear.

Fear spikes.

I understand why your brother wants nothing to do with you if that’s how you speak with people.

The words are stamped into the page before you have time to reason it out. Blood rushes round your ears, wincing as your fingertips burn with the faint embers of power that have begun sparking up every now and again. Preemptively reach for the hand cream, preparing to soothe the itch once it fully manifests.

He’ll read into that comment. You know he will. Read between the lines to figure out just how much that one stung.

Parchment reappears and you warily lean forward, eyes skimming the clean script.

I’d been wondering where you kept your lovely claws, cygnet.

I didn’t mean to write that.

Wipe hands on your skirts, anxiety kicking up in the pit of your stomach. Roiling with worry.

You knew perfectly well what you were doing. You simply despise the way you are.

Has anyone else commented on how similar you are to Nesta Archeron?

Heart sinks to your stomach, biting on your tongue until you taste copper. Dislike how deep he’s wormed his way already. How did things go from light-hearted sparring matches to full scale battle in so few conversations?

And what about you? You write, mimicking his earlier diversion. Do your brothers share your affinity for poisoned words?

The parchment vanishes for a while this time, though you don’t even try to distract yourself with the anthology. Leg taps anxiously, trying to rub cream into your hands, hoping if it’s done tonight, they won’t ache tomorrow. The last thing you need right now is another flare up. Try to focus on the scent—light and sweet. Like gardenias and sugar.

Your attempts to redirect are as graceful as the first steps of a freshly birthed hound. Perhaps once you settle into your skin you’ll become more skilled at deflecting uncomfortable topics.

Skin prickles, hairs standing on end as you again raise the pen in hand. Considering routes to return to earlier discussions that weren’t so intrusive.

Alternatively, you could choose lighter conversation starters. For example, why did you send the anthology?

Certainly not the most succinct switch in direction, but better than continuing down that path. Ease a breath into your lungs once the paper vanishes, reminding yourself you don’t have to reply to him. At any point, you’re free to leave. Lean back in your chair, stretching out your limbs, muscles spasming and aching in your shoulders, fingers trembling as bones click in your spine. Deflate into the seat, muscles relaxing all at once.

You haven’t noticed anything yet?

Brows furrow, peering at the volume. Close it and flip it over—nothing on the back. Reopen it to the contents page, peering at the compilation of titles, authors, and page numbers. Scan the introductory section again, searching for anything to give you a hint at what he’s talking about.

(Writing about.)

I’m mildly concerned to ask? You write, keeping the conversation light, steering away from the earlier topics. Hoping he’ll keep away from family-related chatter.

Then read away.

Heart spikes at the ominous reply. What the hell is he talking about?

Eris, are you serious?

Paper vanishes, reappearing moments later.

Nothing but.

Roll your eyes at the response, but again set pen to paper.

If you were a human, you’d be riddled in various worry-marks by now. Does that thought upset you?

Lips quirk faintly, hoping it irritates him sufficiently.

Is this how you cope with discomfort? Pretending it away? Making light of it?

Damn him.

Instead of…?

Instead of hiding like a coward. Your blithe little act is growing dreadfully monotonous.

Straighten in your chair, shifting uncomfortably. Are you boring? Is that it? Is that the whole reason he…

Do fae have milestone dates like humans do? You said you don’t remember your twenty-first.

Paper disappears, and you become aware of the tension coiling in your shoulders. Maybe you should turn in for the night. Writing to him is supposed to be fun, not make you feel so…

Squirm uncomfortably, slouching in the seat. Crick your neck, releasing built up pressure, stretching your toes. Move to blow out the candles, but the letter reappears.

You really are turning out to be quite dull.

Brows scrunch with hurt, then even out. It’s ridiculous to be upset over behaviour he’s made no effort to hide. You shouldn’t be surprised he’s not changing, yet you had hoped…

Swallow, then sigh, the pen feeling heavy in your hand.

And you’re unnecessarily barbed.

(Who taught you to be that way, Eris?)

(Am I going to grow up to be like you?)

Paper vanishes, but you find yourself awaiting a reply. Marinating in your room while your lids grow heavier, shoulders slumping with fatigue, the base of your spine beginning to ache.

Stand from your desk, eyes flicking unwillingly to your nightstand, a small, royal blue gift box sat neatly atop it. The tule bow as resplendent as ever—shifting between vivid purples, reds, and pinks. Azriel’s gift.

(Sometimes, when it gets particularly bad, I like to look at it before I go to sleep. Fantasise about being the female he likes, instead of the one I am.)

(Sometimes, when I want to indulge in misery, I like to imagine dressing up for him. Imagine him telling me how pretty I am, imagine him sliding the golden hooks into pointed ears.)

(Sometimes I imagine.)

(Sometimes I imagine, because it’s the closest to reality I’ll ever get.)

Hear the distinct sound of paper on the table, and you still. End up turning anyway. Move over to your desk, reading the message.

You can do better.

Write again when you’re ready to show your claws.

Slump into the seat, head tipping back, staring up at the ceiling. Arms fall dully to your sides, too tired to feel anything.

Sigh heavily, forcing yourself to stand in favour of pulling away your clothes. Rid yourself of every constraint, pendant clunking on the bedside table.

The same-old, off-white cotton night gown swallows you, falling to your ankles as you settle into the mattress.

And to think, you’d been considering asking what things were like in his court.

How nice it might have been to make a trip of your own.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

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[1d1195]

Dolcezza Extra I

Read Dolcezza here | ~4.7k words

From me: this is something I’ve never done before: an alternate idea to something I've already written. I will be copying and pasting parts to keep the continuity but I hope you like it. It was pretty fun. The first couple paragraphs are from the original part. I’m sure you can all follow without me telling you all this. Have fun!

Warnings: stalking, scary (?) Also, no clue what kinds of protocols are supposed to be in place for this sort of thing. I don't think it makes a lot of sense logistically or law-wise. But that's not what we're here for, right?! I wanted it to kind of go right in the middle of Part 8, like starts in the beginning-ish part of it and end essentially in the same way.

It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.

The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.

Harry dropped a knife for the third time on the same onion he had been trying to dice for the last five minutes. He growled to himself, snagged it off the floor (nearly slicing his hand from his anger overtaking rational thought to pick it up by the handle), and all but tossed it in the sink.

“Why not just talk to her?” Niall muttered across the way.

“Shut up,” he snapped, bitterness coating his voice. Niall raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head. He turned the other way, turned his attention to the soup he was pouring into bowls. “M’going to,” he mumbled grabbing a clean knife as he started chopping again. “Sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s alright. Just thinking we could really use her help,” Niall smirked.

Harry snorted. “Y’could probably ask her,” he mumbled. “She’d come running t’help m’sure.”

“Yeah, but it defeats your whole she’s spreading herself too thin. And then I’m no different than rest, huh?”

Harry sighed, grateful for his understanding. “You’re a really good friend, Niall.”

“Don’t I know it,” he laughed. It was infectious. Hard to keep Harry in a bad mood and he prayed to God the orders slowed soon so he could run up and beg her to come help Niall and him because as much as he didn’t want to ask her for another thing, working with her on busy nights were some of his favorite moments.

Harry’s phone was still vibrating. He wondered if he set a timer for something and it was just going off continuously. “M’phone’s been ringing nonstop.”

“Mum?” Niall asked.

“No... she knows m’at work. Plus, she’d call the restaurant if it was an emergency. I gave her the number.”

“S’probably an alarm, yeah?”

“Yeah... probably.”

“Oh, she’s here,” Niall mumbled his gaze narrowing at the slip of paper in his hand. “Eggplant and two times the extra garlic bread…” Niall waved the ticket out like he always did when they realized the arrival of Harry’s Principessa.

Well, at least Harry wouldn’t have to sprint upstairs to apologize. Still, it was odd she didn’t make herself known when she got there even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Harry glanced toward the window for a peek to see if she was there, but he was too far away. “Niall did you see her?” He asked.

“No…” his voice was low, over the bustle of the few staff that were in the kitchen, Harry hardly heard him. Like he was piecing a puzzle together. He was studying the slip. Like it would give him the hint.

“See who?” The hostess asked. She was grabbing a take-out order off the counter that Niall had just finished packaging. Niall slid the ticket into the holder still examining it.

“Principessa,” Niall mumbled. “She always orders extra garlic bread with her eggplant.”

“Oh yeah she’s here with her brother or something,” Antonio’s nephew, Matteo, jumped right into the conversation as he brought back empty plates from the dining room.

Harry’s head snapped up from the veggies he was cutting and tossing into a pot to make a sauce. “Brother...?” Harry didn’t think that made sense at all. He remembered seeing “James groceries” on her calendar while he cleaned earlier in the week. It was always done on a day when James had to work in the evening so there was no way he would have come all the way out here for dinner. Still, he thought Harry would have known if James was here—between his protective brother streak or even just saying hello and thank you for the food. Harry thought she would bring him right back here to the kitchen and make herself at home.

But maybe Harry misread it. Or maybe James finally suspected she was tired and strung out and was taking a step to help with his kind older sister.

“Well, it’s not dinner with you; so, who else would it be?” Matteo reminded them with a shrug.

Niall gasped dropping the plate he was holding, and it shattered to the ground. Everyone stopped to look at him and he grabbed the ticket once more. Like it finally revealed the missing clue. At the same time Harry dropped the fourth knife he was using because if Matteo hadn’t said “who else would it be” they might not have put it together right then.

Harry hurried to the window and searched. “Where’s she sitting?” His voice was hurried. There was a one second pause. “Matteo, now!”

“Corner, near the door. What’s—”

“Niall...” Harry’s body felt weak and shaky. His blood was hot and boiling immediately. His vision was getting blurry at the edges, and he had never felt so close to throwing up in his whole life. Not even when he had the flu in university.

Why was his phone vibrating still?

“Oh no,” he murmured reaching for the phone in his pocket.

“Shit!” Niall hissed looking at the direction of the man sitting across from the pretty girl all the way across the restaurant.

Harry slid his thumb across his phone without taking his eyes off the table across the main room. The weakness he felt ached through every inch in his body. “Eleanor, I—”

He yanked the phone away from his ear as she responded, loudly, shouting. “Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!? Why do you even have one!?”

Harry felt sicker at the accusation. How could he not look at his phone? “El—”

“Harry it’s bad,” Eleanor sobbed, barely getting the words out. Harry could hear Louis shushing her as best he could. “It’s really bad.”

It was every one of Harry’s worst nightmares.

*

She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.

Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.

“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.

“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more and she stepped back as the door opened. Her jaw dropped along with her phone smacking to the ground. She could faintly hear Eleanor calling at the sound of the noise.

The man before her smiled excitedly, relieved. “You’re home. I knew I’d find you,” he sighed with relief reaching for her. Instinctively she took a step back, it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from throwing up all over herself or the not-so-stranger. “I’m so glad I’ve found you; I missed you so much.”

Her heart was pounding erratically. Her only saving grace was knowing Eleanor heard. She reached for her phone. Autopilot. Grab the phone that clattered to the floor.

He kicked it out of the way. “You don’t need that,” he assured her with an easy smile. She straightened; cleared her throat.

“I…don’t?” She whispered. She should have spoken louder so Eleanor could hear. Of course, she loved her apartment, and she loved Antonio and the little family he invited her to be part of that was Dolcezza. Right then, however, she wanted to cry that her apartment was soundproofed beyond auditorial recognition. Her eyes dropped to the fabric in his hand. She swallowed the bile that continued rising in her throat while he looked at her as if he had known her his whole life.

“No,” he shook his head.

Her mind wasn’t working. She was exhausted and terrified and poor Eleanor was screaming from the other end of the line. He grabbed the phone. “Hi Eleanor,” he said simply. “She’s okay. We’re going on a trip, she’ll be safe with me,” he assured her.

Then he left her phone on the side table. Hanging up and leaving it there. It started to vibrate immediately; Eleanor desperate to hear her answer again. Instead, he ignored it, held his hand out for her to take. “I need my stuff—” she stepped toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it away, like he burned her. She gasped at the touch, and he frowned.

“Sorry—”

Her fight or flight kicked in and she bolted for the bathroom. It would lock and she would drop from the second story if necessary or scream until Harry heard her.

Oh. Harry.

Right as she tried to slam the door shut behind her his foot got in the way. She yelped as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the room. “Honey, stop fighting me,” he grumbled bitterly. She felt so sick. So scared. She wanted to scream and cry but it would be useless. No one would hear her. She needed to make someone hear her.

Slowly, painfully slowly, her brain started to work. It wasn’t much. But she prayed silently to herself that it would be. She took a shaky inhaled breath. “I’m…sorry,” her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She was too scared. It was a nightmare, but she could feel the way her teeth bit into her cheek. It wasn’t something she would be waking up from. “I’ve had a really long week and a really long day. I haven’t eaten yet,” she whispered. “I was going to go downstairs and eat at the restaurant,” she sniffled. “Can we do that? A date?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say it. Her fingernails dug into her palms reminding her further it was a nightmare. It had to work. Please let it work.

“A date?” He mused. He stuffed the fabric in his hands into the pocket of his pants.

“Please,” she whispered. “I’m starving.”

“And then we can go to my place?”

The idea was so nauseating, so terrifying, she worried that it wouldn’t work. If the food got to her table, she was so incredibly scared she wouldn’t be able to eat it. Her whole body felt shaky and clammy. Like when she had the flu. One bite and she would be puking all over her table.

But hopefully that would get Harry’s attention.

“Okay,” he agreed and held his hand out for her to take. It felt like cheating on Harry to hold someone else’s hand. She forced the tears behind her eyes and willed the nausea to stay in the pit of her stomach.

She placed her hand in his.

*

Harry was pacing trying to figure out how to tell her he knew. Niall was on the phone with the police begging for no sirens and no lights. Eleanor was, in the smallest of possible ways, relieved to hear she was in the restaurant and not halfway to somewhere they didn’t know.

Harry couldn’t see her face. It killed him. Why didn’t he go up sooner? Why didn’t he beg for her to come down and help so they could make up? Why didn’t he insist and help her stubborn self the way he wanted to?!

“Goddamnit!” He shouted and shoved a bin of clean cutlery on the floor. It was so loud the restaurant ceased to make noise for a prolonged moment.

“Harry,” Niall was off the phone with the police Eleanor sobbing in his other ear no doubt. “You need to be smart. They cannot leave before the police get here or we’re fucked. Eleanor already sent the detective on her case to his old place of residence and there is no sign of him there. So, if they leave…” he trailed off and Harry released a strangled noise from his throat. Not quite a cry, not quite a yell. The pain was so intense from the thought he thought he could feel it in the atoms of his body. “If you cannot have a controlled response...,” Niall warned without finishing the sentence.

Harry swallowed the feeling of being sick down. He knew what Niall meant. “Okay,” he croaked.

Everyone was still trying to work. But the whispers ensued. Within moments, everyone knew. Everyone was trying to piece together a plan and Harry felt so confused, so lost, so scared because the only one he could ever imagine getting out of this situation was his sweet Principessa herself.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. He needed to be brave. She needed him. She never needed anyone. The weight of that made him terrified. Shaking his head he pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes to stop the stressed tears from escaping. He swallowed and shook his head again. She did the hard part. She got herself in the restaurant and Harry’s attention without even talking to him. “Niall, bring out the garlic bread in three minutes,” he ordered while untying his apron and heading for the door to the alleyway. “Tell Eleanor to tell the detective to hurry.”

*

The restaurant was easily one of her top five favorite places in the world. But right now, she wanted to scream and run from it. Where was Harry or Niall?! God, she wanted to kill Matteo. How did he not know? Wasn’t everyone under a silent direction to tell Harry when she arrived?

The worry began to take over. Harry wasn’t coming to her rescue because he didn’t want to. She pushed him away and he was going to let—

No.

Harry, despite how mad he might have been, would never let anything happen to her. She was certain.

Wasn’t she?

Perhaps Harry really just didn’t know. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Especially without any indication that anyone knew she was there. Her back was to the restaurant, and she was still in her gym clothes. With her back turned, hair in a ponytail, she was probably less recognizable than normal. That had to be it. He had no idea she was there.

It was a miracle she could keep her breathing as even as she did. The thoughts started to spiral further. Maybe he wouldn’t know. It was really busy in the restaurant—Matteo might not have noticed she was there with a stranger when he seated them since the hostess wasn’t there. Maybe he didn’t tell Harry yet.

Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears it was hard to hold a conversation with him almost because she couldn’t hear him; more so than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. But she didn’t have a choice. He asked her about work, her family, and if she had been reading anything good. She wasn’t into it—it was obvious and she wished she was because the only thing that was going to save her was being able to play it off that she didn’t want to crawl out of her skin at the sight or sound of him. Her stomach was churning, and her voice was so quiet she wished she could do a better job acting but she was terrified. Pain started behind her eyes, and she wanted to scream.

“Good evening.”

Her head snapped up to Harry briefly, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Her jaw dropped silently. She was really beginning to believe that he wasn’t coming to her rescue. But now he was there. He knew she was there. He was going to help. She was sure of it.

He knew she was there.

Her heart started to pound in a new way, still scared but for the first time in twenty minutes she took a deep cleansing breath; relieved. She looked at her lap afraid to give it away that she knew him.  “We are very short staffed this evening. We’re extremely sorry for the delay,” Harry sounded so formal, and she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would cry. “Your food will be out as soon as we can. Please be patient with us. We’re very sorry.”

If she looked up, she knew his eyes would be looking at her. She knew his apologies weren’t about the food. The gravity in his voice said he was sorry because he didn’t know she was there sooner. He was sorry he didn’t come upstairs or to her rescue faster. A tear slipped across her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Do you have a bathroom?” She asked.

“I don’t think—”

“Of course,” Harry interrupted hurriedly; she could practically hear the excitement in his voice. Like he was grateful she had a plan because he was a little stuck, a little lost. It made her feel weak immediately. The worry Harry must have felt because of her made her feel guilty and sad. She wanted to fix it and it was hard she felt like she was balancing on a tightrope. She hoped Harry wouldn’t hate her for running the second she had the opportunity. “I’ll lead you,” he offered.

“You just used the bathroom upstairs, honey,” the man reminded her. His voice was tight.

He was going to be mad if she left; that much was evident. “Well, I just—” She started.

“She’s all set, actually. Thank you.”

Harry stared at him. Weighing his options. She could see it. She cleared her throat. “Um...it’s okay,” she whispered quietly. Refusing to look at Harry again. If she did, she was going to blow what little cover she had. Poor Harry. “M’just a little tired,” she assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.

“S’back and to the left,” Harry murmured and then headed to the next table and explained the short-staffed shift again. She wondered what he was thinking and what he was saying to the table. They looked like regulars, but she wasn’t completely sure because her mind was frazzled. Harry leaving her to fend for herself, even though he was only four feet away at most had her aching for him more than she ever wanted to hold his hand in her whole life.

Harry was losing his mind. He knew she understood his apology for taking so long. He knew that she understood between the lines that he was apologizing for Matteo’s mistake in not telling him sooner. Harry would have been out in the dining room so much faster. As much as it pained him to see her seated across from another man, regardless of the circumstances. It would have been better if she was with another guy in general. At least he wouldn’t be worried sick about her safety.

It took every bit of his strength to keep blowing their cover. To keep from shaking while he told the next table that they were short-staffed. They quietly inquired about the strange man sitting with the sweet girl they all had grown to know as their sometimes-waitress and Harry’s lovely Principessa. He quietly murmured something and then casually bumped into the table dropping the knife near the edge to the floor. As he bent to grab it, he murmured to the guy, pleaded with his eyes as he tried to whisper devoid of emotion. “Do not let her leave with him.”

Harry moved to the next table—strategically he chose the tables that allowed him to keep her in his peripheral. It was killing him. The shaking was becoming uncontrollable, and the whisper beg to the couples, imploring for help from the people he had gotten to know over the years, was getting strangled in his throat as he moved to the third and fourth table.

He was at a loss. The bathroom was a great idea, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to get her from point A to point B. Maybe he could pour hot soup on her, insist she come to the kitchen for help. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill their hot soup in her lap either. He supposed he could throw ice cubes in it and make it less horrible on her delicate skin, but he had to do something! His mind was spiraling. He wouldn’t see her in his peripheral in just two more tables and he was already about triple the distance of what he wanted to be from her—granted even an inch of space given the scenario seemed more horrific than he could bear.

He was feeling nauseous. Maybe he should just grab her by the hand and pull her away. But they had a chance to get rid of him. To keep him away from her once and for all. He violated the restraining order. That had to be something. He would have to go away.

Despite the fact she was so close but felt like an entire galaxy away. Harry was crumbling internally. This poor older woman who had been coming in every Saturday for years looked at him with pity in his eyes as he repeated his spiel once more. The agony he felt was in every inch of his bones, every pore of his skin. His eye was twitching.

When he got her safe and out of harm’s way, he planned on never letting go of her. At least not for a few days. He was going to kiss her and hold her. Apologize to her and cook for her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Harry was going to tell her he loved her and didn’t care if she was stubborn or felt like she was hard to care for because she didn’t like to be needy. He was needy. He needed her. It was killing him to be so close and so far away. So helpless and terrified that he couldn’t help her the way he wanted to right then. Even scared shitless, he thought she was beautiful and brave. So brave. She got here. She got his attention. That had to mean something. She believed in Harry and that he would find her or know she was there despite the frustration and anxiety she felt.

It was hard to believe it was only three minutes since he actually talked to her and apologized for taking so long. Niall came from the back with a plate of garlic bread as promised. Niall was going to come up with the next part of the plan, Harry hoped. Hell, he would go back to the table, feigning exhaustion for apologizing twice. God, he needed to get a bowl of soup, he was going to have to spill it in her lap! It was the only way.

Harry listened intently as Niall arrived at their table. He could almost see the glitter of her tears in her eyes. Nearly crying again at the sight of Niall. He wanted to make a joke more than anything that it had nothing to do with Niall but everything to do with her favorite bread in his hands. But he was mortified. Speechless in front of a table waiting with waited breath as they heard the murmurs and the wisps of what Harry managed to mumble before Niall’s arrival.

“Garlic bread,” he announced, as if she didn’t know. “Buon appetite,” he winked casually. He was far better at lying and acting than Harry or herself combined. She was itching to run. Niall and Harry, both could stop him. Someone would tackle him, right? She was fluttery. Ready to leave as soon as she saw an opening because she didn’t know what else to do. “Can I get you two anything else?” Niall asked kindly.

“I know you,” he said. It lacked suspicion but was no less terrifying.

She could see Harry’s back straightened in her peripheral and his speech silenced. Matteo and the hostess were working from the other end of the room at the same time. Probably explaining the situation to every table as quietly as they could just like Harry was.

Without any tell in sight, Niall merely tilted his head and looked at him. “Hmm...sorry. M’not sure I recognize you,” he shrugged. Niall stepped closer, getting a better look at the man across from her. His acting skills deserved an award.

But in moving closer, Niall also blocked her a good margin from his view. It was her chance. She bolted. Running from the main room and toward the kitchen so fast it took a minute for anyone to realize she was gone. She zipped out the kitchen door, back through the alley, and up to her apartment. She heard a shout coming quickly behind her, so she had to be faster. She hurried back into her apartment unable to do anything but grab her phone off the table and run into the bedroom and hide in the closet, closing the door quietly behind her. She dialed Eleanor. Her heart pounding as she heard the sound of steps. She left the door open to make it look like she ran back out, but it was impossible.

He was already in the apartment. Already tearing through her belongings, shouting, upending her furniture, and rifling through everything.

“Babe?” Eleanor nearly screeched with relief.

“I can’t talk,” she whispered barely an audible octave.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay on the phone,” she promised. “The police are on their way.”

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz

@likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59

@babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06

@canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong

@foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03

@luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr

@crossyourpeter @kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @harryscherri

@indierockgirrl @michellekstyles @hermionelove @somethingabout1d19

Dolcezza: @matildasatellite @lovingfurypanda @sideboobrry11 @theresnooneheretosave @12yeahiminluvwu

@cohnfusedarling

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if I put you on the wrong list, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[crazyk-imagine]

Things I Hate... Oh, and Oranges

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Plus size!reader

Characters: Rafe Cameron, Plus size!reader, Topper Thornton, Kelce, Sarah, mentions of the pogues

Warnings: Biggest warning ever, yall ain't ready, their characters aren't as bad here, fluff, rafe being a simp, rafe totally in love with reader, topper and kelce are butt heads in a friend way, not the obx way, Sarah and reader are casual besties, like they did a group project, vibed and have been friends ever since

Word Count: 773

Based on this post

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

Sarah told you to come by around this time because no one would be home, and you needed somewhere quiet to study.

She forgot to mention she'd be out with John B.

You don’t mind though; it makes things a little easier since she won’t be around to distract you with her gossip.

-

Rafe walks in and stops as soon as he passes the entrance to the kitchen, wondering if what he just saw was real or not.

He takes a step back and stays in the shadows, watching you.

He brushes a hand through his hair, wondering if he looks okay or if he needs to change his shirt. He looks down and frowns, the blood stain from Barry is visible.

He runs upstairs to change his shirt, wincing at the tingling in his hand. He groans under his breath, “serves him right.”

He doesn’t regret punching his dealer, Barry knows better than to provoke him.

-

You wander around the kitchen, searching for a few items.

You stir up the better by hand, rather than trying to figure out how Sarah’s mixer works. You swear she only bought it so only she could use it and no one else.

A knock on the doorway alarms you causing you to almost spill the contents in the bowl. “Holy- you scared me.”

He chuckles, “sorry, I was- I didn’t mean to.”

You huff and smile, “it’s fine, a little jump start in the heart never hurt anyone.”

He chuckles, “what’re you making?” He takes a seat on the other side of the counter.

“My special bread.”

“I didn’t take you for a stoner.”

Your jaw drops, “I am not.”

He chuckles, “okay, Cheech.”

You shake your head and place it into the cute little bread pan you bought her. “Now we wait.”

His eyes follow you as you sit back down at your little study corner. “What’re doing?”

“Studying, what are you doing?”

“Watching you.”

You roll your eyes, “wouldn’t you rather be out, talking to some cute girl?”

“I already am.”

“Smooth, too smooth on your part, Rafe.” You glance up from your textbook, “did you practice that one in the mirror?”

“I’d rather practice on you.”

“I hate how good you are at this.”

The corner of his lip tugs upward, “I know.”

The ding of timer alerts you.

“Yay,” you cheer while running towards the oven to take it out and take a whiff of the goodness it’s giving off.

“Do you want to try some Rafe?” You ask, cutting into the hot loaf.

“You actually want to share with me?”

“Don’t be like that, Rafe. I’m being nice here and this is how you pay it back.”

He chuckles, “no, give me a slice.”

“Manners.”

He pouts, grabbing a plate and holding it out in front of him. “Please, can I have a slice?”

“Yes, you can, you dramatic little dork.”

“Nothing about me is little.”

You play off the heat in your cheeks as the air emanates off the bread. “Sure, sure.”

-

Kelce and Topper walk in, searching for the sweet scent wafting through the house.

“Yo Rafe,” Kelce calls out. 

“In the kitchen.”

“You all speak so kindly to each other,” you tell him.

“Always, baby.”

“What smells so good?” Topper asks, stepping closer to you.

“Did you get a new perfume or something?”

You shake your head, “nope, just made my infamous bread.”

Their eyes practically widen at the sight. “We can’t wait.”

Kelce turns to Rafe and furrows his brow, “I thought you didn’t like orange?”

You turn towards him, seeing as he shoves the last piece of bread into his mouth. “You don’t like orange?”

He tries to argue and tell you he does but can’t as the other two take over.

“Yeah, he’s never been a fan of orange since he was a kid and his dad-” Topper smacks Kelce’s chest, causing the man to wheeze.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Rafe tells them as he takes a sip of water.

You grab his wrist and stop him. “Be honest, Rafe.”

He spins around and stares at you. “When am I not?”

You stare at him with a deadpan expression.

“Okay, I’ll be honest.”

“Do you or do you not like the loaf of bread I made?”

“It’s delicious. You know I think I could even eat it by myself.”

“You’re not lying.”

He shakes his head, “when have I ever lied to you?”

You shrug, “fair enough.”

[lana-llama-in-pajamas]

thick as blood

sweet as milk

pt.3

you woke up sore and oddly over heated, you opened your eyes to see something a 12 year old boy would dream up both the twins cuddled up to you arms hugging you close, you looked down to see you were in a nightgown and they were in slips they possibly wore under their dresses from last night. Els leg was wrapped in cellophane probably fearful of the wound bleeding through you smiled softly looking up at your ceiling hearing their breathing synced together, the smell of their French perfumes with the combination of sweat was actually pretty calming (damn twins are in your bed even before Francis 💀)

you closed your eyes again wanting to catch a bit more rest before getting up for the day, what felt like minutes was actually an hour. you woke up again with the twins gone, you got up rubbing your eyes walking out to the living room hearing talking "you think she's even eaten a meal a day?" a deeper feminine voice asked it wasn't the twins " I don't think you could call bread and jam a meal" another voice said, you peeked in the kitchen to see the twins, mia and gloria all in the kitchen. gloria cooking on the stove as mia and sel unpacked groceries putting them in the proper places, elenois sat at the window mixing something in a bowl. you felt so cared for, your pain from your injuries disappearing for a second, you got caught by mia who walked over with selenne "your awake! so sorry we let ourselves in dear" mia hugged you gently before selenne wrapped her arm around your shoulders "you should go shower we're making brunch" you nodded "no worries miss stone but please send me the receipt for the food" you spoke softly realizing your voice was still strained "oh don't insult me y/n I'm not hurting for money, now go get cleaned up I'm gonna make some tea" she pushed you to the bathroom making selenne giggle walking back to the kitchen

you did strip yourself of your slip and bandages examining yourself in the mirror, bruises kissed your body with indents of the stairs in your back. the memory of the creatures claws ran across your legs with your ankle matching Elenois, it was lightly scarred so you washed yourself gently hissing anytime you had to bend down. you left the shower walking back to your room to change, the girls brought out the table into the living room filling it foods and spare plates, you changed into something less formal putting on some music to lighten your mood

everyone gathered in the livingroom, sitting and passing plates as gloria sat near you looking over your vinyls ¨you do got some bad bruises baby¨ she gently grabbed your arm looking it over, you hissed a little making her let go ¨sorry baby¨ she handed the first loaded plate to you ¨come sit and eat, we know damn well you havent had a vegtable since you came in¨ you smiled thanking the sweet woman trying your best to be polite while eating but she was right you were starving, honestly its a miracle you were able to fight the equivelent of a animal on bread, fruit jam and milk alone. everyone ate and talked as gloria filled your plate to replace what you had ate whispering ¨your in your home, eat with the hunger you have¨ hearing that had you eating mouthfuls only listening to the conversation instead ¨natcha and her little one wouldve come but natcha didnt want her to overwhelm you with questions¨ mia said to you ¨she got you and the twins flowers though¨ you nodded finishing your 2nd plate ¨ill need to send her a thank you note soon¨ everyone nodded in agreement as a knock was heard at the door, you got up wiping your mouth opening it slowly to show most of the men ¨honey i thought you were at work¨ gloria asked as everyone walked over ¨i was but im on lunch, here you go miss l/n your one courageous little lady¨ arnold passed you a small bouquet and kissed his wife good bye then one after another your other neighbors gave you gifts of gratitude, even lois margeret and raftellyn came in with food n flowers low key inviting themselves in.

at the very end natasha came and held up a tin tray to you ¨my mom is at work but she made this for you or whatever¨ you smiled taking the tray and placing on on the table with everything else ¨your mom does so much tell her thank you for me¨ you bent down to talk with her ¨....yeah ok.....did it bite you? are you infected with something? my mom said you saved us and killed it or whatever, does that mean your a murderer or a monster killer?¨ she kept asking things making your head swim but luckily you had a savior ¨she's a monster killer. a hero little Natasha.¨ Francis said sternly also holding a gift in his hands ¨oooh ok....whatever bye hero lady¨ she said waving and walking out ¨here Natasha take a plate¨ mia walked over leading her back to her door ¨uh....um thank you ¨ you looked up blushing ¨for?¨ he asked putting down the basket of fruit and wine bottle in his hands ¨err...uh everything, carrying me, bringing me this¨ you gestured to the basket ¨telling the little one I'm a hero..¨ you looked down intimidated by his hard gaze ¨those gifts are from the DDD. I didn't get the memo we were making your apartment a floral shop.¨ it almost sounded like a joke but he said it so blankly with irritation ¨oh well would you like a pla-¨ ¨you didn't get her something?¨ Margarette said loudly ¨for shame young man she pulled a gun out what could you pull? a bottle of milk?¨ she laughed as the others giggled uncomfortably ¨like I said I didn't get the memo. but I will show my gratitude¨ you turned beet red wondering what he meant by this, the twins felt your forehead ¨you should sit, Francis please help yourself¨ they brought you back to the couch as Francis followed Lois made him a plate and sat right by him ¨aside from this loud mouth, I didn't know you had those types of muscles Francis" god you were uncomfy now "i carry crates of milk i think its self explanatory" he shot back making Lois flustered by the full stop, at this point you weren't sure if Natasha was his, it seems like he doesn't have a filter...or feelings.

soon the awkward feelings subsided and everyone talked about their jobs, marriage and mia's and the dr's wedding plans.

you were in the kitchen looking over your gifts, mostly flowers and chocolate but it seems the Dr. got you a jewelry set, and so did the cappuccin's. the flowers came with cards you read and stacked together, one stuck out to you .

the fruits basket and wine.

it was champagne and fancy fruits (just to set the scene mangos and kiwis were considered 'exotic' in this era) you read the card

dear y/n you did well, enjoy your week off. another agent will take your place so don't let your guard down completely but do relax. rex

you smiled grabbing 2 vases of flowers wondering where to put them. Francis put his plate in the sink staring at you as he leaned against it "...you know who also hasn't gifted you anything....Gauss" he spoke lowly, was he...talking gossip? "why do you think?" you entertained him preening one of the flowers "he feels emasculated. since he isn't the American hero he's pissed" he chuckled making you shiver a little, it made sense though gauss seemed the macho type but that didn't matter , it was the way he said 'American hero' it was very accented "are you not emasculated by me Francis?" you asked walking closer to him even if your knees started to feel like jelly with every step "not at all, i was raised by strong women." he looked down at your level as you could breath in his cologne, strong sweet and alcohol like. " Francis i wonder a lot of things about you" you spoke truthfully like his eyes pulled it out of you "i am a book y/n, you just have to open it and read" his face was so close to yours.

you were swooning, eyes fluttering as you could almost imagine his lips on yours. his cologne was like a drug putting you under, you were in a full day dream before hearing another dark quiet laugh "how unbecoming of you...you know so little about me and yet your ready to throw yourself at me" he held up your chin with his hand as if you were a dog.

he walked away excusing himself to everyone before walking out

you shuddered taking a deep breath hoping to smell him one last time "he teased me....the bastard teased me and left."

im sorrry it tookk so looooongg!!! but here it is my loves enjoy!!! let me know if you like or hate (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

[mynameismckenziemae]

A Little Bit Stronger

Part 4

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x OFC

Summary: You get more bad news but it turns out to be a blessing in disguise

Just like everything else I write/post: this story is for 18+ only. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. It will contain smut, adult themes, situations and language. Please also note this story may be triggering due to the topic of domestic abuse (physical, emotional, sexual) violence-feel free to message me with any questions before reading.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, mutual masturbation, a little voyeurism.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

The front door closing quietly wakes you the next morning, well, more like Hank jumping off the bed to see the person who opened it.

“Alright,” you yawn, stretching before you get up, feeling again well-rested. “Let’s go.”

He races down the stairs ahead of you, excited to see Bradley.

“Did I wake you?” He asks as you enter the kitchen, continuing when you shake your head. “Sorry, I get up early. Went for a run this morning.”

“You’re fine,” you smile, “Hank was just excited to see you. I usually get up early too, must’ve just been tired from yesterday. Is that why you’re called Rooster? You’re an early riser too?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, turning pink as he rises from petting Hank to look in the fridge.

Now you’re totally convinced that there’s more to the story by his avoidance.

“I don’t have much besides eggs and toast,” he sighs, looking at the loaf of bread on the counter, “I’ve gotta get to the grocery store. I should warn you too, I can’t cook for shit.”

“That’s okay,” you reply as you open the door to let Hank outside, “I used to love cooking.”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t need to ask why you stopped loving it, assuming (correctly) it was because of Chad. “My mom was a great cook. I’d do anything to have one of her home-cooked meals again…that I complained about at the time, wanting McDonald’s or pizza instead.”

You laugh as you fill Hank’s food bowl, “I did the same thing, I think most kids do.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, grabbing the eggs and pulling out a pan. “The best was her meatloaf and homemade Mac and cheese. She left me a whole book of her recipes but it never ends well when I attempt them.”

“I could try making it,” you reply as you let Hank back inside, “if you want.”

“Really?” He lights up as he cracks an egg, “that’d be great.”

“Yeah,” you smile, “it’s been a while so I might be a little rusty, but I’d love to try. It’s the least I can do since you won’t let me pay you for staying here.”

“That’s not a big deal,” he murmurs. “Her recipe book is in there if you wanna take a look,” he nods to one of the drawers. “Do you like your eggs scrambled? Cause that’s all I can do.”

You laugh again, “Scrambled is perfect.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Wanna invite Reese, Jake, and Drew over?” Bradley asks as he packs the groceries into the back of the Bronco, “I know the recipe makes a lot, we always had a ton of leftovers.”

“Sure,” you reply, buckling your seatbelt as he gets in the driver's seat. “Do you mind stopping at the post office? I should check my PO Box.”

“Not at all,” he replies, heading that way.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Everything okay?” He asks when you frown, reading the letter from the court.

“The divorce hearing is scheduled for next Friday,” you reply.

“Isn’t that good?”

You nod, “It is, but I have to work. Thankfully it’s being conducted over the phone, but I don’t want to ask for time off when I’ve only been there a few weeks.”

“Reese will gladly take off,” Bradley assures you.

You sigh, “I hate asking her to, but I don’t think I have a choice. I don’t want to delay this any longer.”

“Do you have a lawyer?” He asks.

“Yes, but I’m not asking for anything from him; no alimony, nothing from the house…I don’t want or need any of that. I just need him to sign the papers and leave me alone.”

“Do you think he will?” He asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, “I hope so.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Bradley plays outside with Hank while you start the food; both recipes are easy enough to follow.

“It smells amazing,” he comes in just as you’re closing the oven. “Jake and Reese will be here any minute.”

“Good. Hopefully it tastes amazing too,” you smile, looking at him over your shoulder.

“I’m sure it will,” he replies, stepping close to dry his hands on the towel hanging on the oven door. “It’s looking better already,” he murmurs, his deep brown eyes on the fading bruise on your cheek before meeting your own.

Your eyes flick to his lips, fingers twitching as you fight the urge to bring him down to yours for a kiss.

You both jump when the doorbell rings.

“They’re here,” he says, before clearing the huskiness from his throat. “I’ll let them in.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “okay.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Bradley brings a round of beers outside while the food cooks inside, Drew’s giggling at Hank’s antics, and Reese is telling you and Jake about the trouble she and Bradley got up to with Andy back in the day when your phone rings.

The relaxed smile falls from your face when you recognize the number as your new landlord.

“Excuse me,” you say, stepping inside to answer it and check the food.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

The oven timer goes off just as you hang up the phone.

Somehow you manage not to get any of your tears on the food as you take out the dishes.

“Wow, everything looks great-hey what’s wrong?” Bradley asks when he sees your tears.

“That was my landlord,” you tell him, wiping your tears with the back of your hand, “he terminated my lease…that hadn’t even started.”

“What?” He asks, handing you a paper towel, “Why? How can he do that?”

“Said he overlooked something when I applied,” you sniff, “it’s just a bullshit excuse. This has Chad written all over it. God only knows how he figured out that’s where I was moving,” you inhale shakily, “I’m guessing he either bribed or threatened the landlord.”

He hesitates for a moment before gently wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

“Shit, that was stupid. I’m sor-“ He starts to let go when you stiffen instinctively but you shake your head once before allowing yourself to melt into his embrace. All of your anger, sadness, resentment, grief, and fear hitting you at once. Your shoulders begin shake from your suppressed sobs as you bury your face into his solid chest.

Neither of you hear the back door open again.

“Actually Drew, can you take Hank out one more time?”Jake says when he spots you, “I think he might have to go potty.”

“Sure! Come on,” he says, and the door closes a moment later.

“What’s wrong?” Reese asks, stroking your hair.

“I l-l-lost my apart-“ you take a deep breath before reluctantly pulling away, “I lost my apartment.”

Reese tears up and there’s a tick in Jake’s jaw as you explain everything.

“Oddly enough, I was thinking of taking next Friday off anyway,” Reese says when you tell her about the divorce hearing.

“Liar,” you laugh wetly, “but thank you.”

She just smiles.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“This is exactly like she made it,” Bradley murmurs, mostly to himself. You pretend not to notice the tears in his eyes.

“Roo, is Shae your girlfriend?” Drew asks a few minutes later.

Reese snorts as Bradley chokes on the food in his mouth, “No, she’s just my friend. Why?”

“Because she slept over last night,” he shrugs.

“Well, are you my boyfriend? You sleep over sometimes too,” Bradley asks, raising a brow.

“No!” Drew giggles, “I was just wondering. I thought when adults sleep over it means they’re dating. Jake sleeps over all the time in Mom’s room. He leaves really early in the morning though. I don’t know why he doesn’t just move in.”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing at the shocked look Jake and Reese share.

“Busted!” Bradley bursts out laughing, “not as sneaky as you thought, huh?”

“Oh fuck off,” Reese says, her and Jake laughing now too, “Drew, don’t repeat that.”

“I won’t,” he giggles.

“Shae is just a friend and she’s going to stay here for a while,” Bradley explains before clarifying, “in the guest room.”

Your lip quirks at that.

“But why?” Drew asks.

“Drew-“ Reese starts but you interrupt.

“I just moved here and it’s hard to find an apartment that allows big dogs,” you explain, not lying…just leaving out some details.

“That’s dumb,” Drew scoffs, “he’s such a good dog.”

“I think so too,” you smile.

“Do you like baseball?” He asks, changing the subject, “I love baseball…”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You begin the apartment search again the next morning, requesting tours and submitting applications to anything that looks promising.

But by Thursday evening, you’ve gotten zero responses.

While discouraged, you weren’t exactly disappointed. It’s been a week since you’ve been staying with Bradley and you two already have fallen into a routine together; he quietly opens your door every morning to let Hank out so he doesn’t whine and wake you. Already gone by the time you got downstairs but had coffee, toast, and eggs waiting in the microwave. He’d gone home to let Hank out without you asking one day when you didn’t have time to take lunch. His delighted reactions to your cooking makes you remember why you loved it.

“Still nothing?” Bradley asks as he sits across from you while scrolling for a movie to turn on.

“Nothing,” you confirm with a sigh, “I promise I’ll be out of here soon though.”

“You don’t have to be,” he turns to you, but his eyes won’t meet yours, “I mean, there’s no rush.”

He hesitates so you wait for him to continue.

“It’s been really nice having someone else here,” he admits, “It gets…quiet living alone.”

His admission tugs at your heartstrings; you got lonely too.

“I understand. I do like having someone around. For little things like talking over dinner, watching movies together…and I can finally sleep. I don’t keep myself awake overthinking every little sound.”

“Good,” he murmurs, “you can stay for a while if you want. Until you find an apartment you like, or until things get better with your ex and you feel safe again.”

“Okay,” you agree, “but only if you let me pay you.”

“Sure,” he says as he returns to scrolling, “we’ll figure something out.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Bradley’s Bronco is already in the driveway when you pull in the following afternoon.

It was a long, exhausting day, but it’s over. You’re free.

It was conducted over the phone, so while you didn’t have to see Chad, you still had to hear his voice. He behaved though; his daddy must’ve been present.

“Bradley?” You call when you open the door, feeling better already as you step inside.

He doesn’t answer but Hank is relaxing at the top of the stairs. His tail thumps heavily as you make your way up.

“Hey pup,” you murmur, kissing the top of his head before passing him.

You realize where Bradley is when you enter your room and hear the shower running.

Having every intention of taking a nap, you flop down on the bed with a sigh and close your eyes.

Just to open them a minute later when you keep hearing something; a wet, rhythmic slapping.

Is he…? No. It’s none of your business if he’s jerking off.

Then he moans softly.

You ignore your body’s reaction.

It’s wrong…right?

There’s a thump above your head and you can’t help but picture him bracing his arm against the wall as he strokes himself.

“Oh,” he groans, then, “Shae.”

There’s no ignoring the arousal that rushes through your body before settling between your thighs.

You slide your hand down the front of your pants, gasping when you touch your clit, swollen and pulsing.

Your eyes fall shut as you circle your clit, listening to the sounds he makes and picture him while he’s apparently picturing you.

It’s been so long since you’ve had an orgasm that you’re on the brink in no time at all.

His gasped “fuck” above your ear is all it takes.

Your mouth falls open as you shudder through wave after wave of pent-up pleasure. Tears stream from your eyes at the long-overdue emotional release.

The shower turns off as you come back into your body and by the time you muster enough strength and coordination to get up to close the door, he’s already walking past.

“Shit!” He jumps when he glances into your room, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d be home until later.”

But you hardly hear him; your eyes follow a droplet of water as it runs down his bare chest, wanting to follow it with your tongue. It’s absorbed the towel wrapped loosely on his hips.

A light tug would make it fall.

“Hey,” he notices your disheveled appearance and drying tears, “you okay? How did it go?”

That snaps you out of it.

“It’s-yeah,” you shake your head to clear it, “I just got here a minute ago. I’m…it was a long day.”

“I bet,” he nods, “I’ll listen if you want to talk about it or there’s beer in the fridge if you want to drink about it?”

“Drink about it,” you smile.

“Alright,” the way he grins makes your heart (and other parts) flutter.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: posting 2 chapters in 2 days-who even am I? I think I wrote over 5,000 words today 👀

Anyway…Shae is a single woman and things are s l o w l y heating up! What did y’all think?

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I LOVE hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than anything.

Please let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) my taglist…and if I forgot to add you-it wasn’t intentional.

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[embarrasingmf]

taking a sick day

PAIRING: Steve Rogers x reader

SUMMARY: when cap gets sick, you volunteer to be his personal nurse for the day.

WARNINGS: not proofread, might be OOC steve☹️

WORD COUNT: 1k

A/N: this is now my longest fic yay! also, I know steve can’t rlly get sick bc of the serum but I see a lot of fics where reader is sick so I wanted to swap the roles🫠

Steve thought he was immune to all Earthly diseases, disorders, and infections after taking the Super-Soldier serum.

But he was recently proven wrong after getting struck with a bad case of the flu.

He always stayed in bed, not that he was necessarily bedridden, per se, he was just too lazy to walk around his private quarters.

Really, the only time Steve got out of bed was to make himself some food or go to the bathroom. Other than that, he stayed curled up under the covers.

When the other Avengers learned about his recent misfortune, they quickly formed a little meeting to discuss who would keep watch to make sure he recovers fine.

As if his immune system wouldn’t fight it off by the next morning.

At this revelation, you immediately volunteered. Maybe a little too quickly considering the smirk you got from Tony.

In truth, you liked spending time with Steve. He was fun to hang out with considering he’s been around for well over a hundred years.

In your excitement, you almost missed Steve’s room, quickly backtracking a few steps before knocking and waiting for his reply.

You heard a muffled “come in,” from the other side, and it sounded nasally, too.

Opening the door to Steve’s private quarters, you were met with him in the kitchen, a simple white shirt and sweatpants on. He was standing in front of the toaster, leaning against the counter.

You walked over, taking a moment to look at his facial expression. It was mostly blank, but his eyebrows were furrowed a bit from how shitty he probably felt right now.

“Making some toast?” You questioned, awkwardly trying to make some conversation.

Steve nodded wordlessly in response, grabbing the toast and throwing it on the plate after the toaster dinged annoyingly.

He grabbed a butter knife and started spreading some jam onto the darkened bread.

You watched intently before speaking up after clearing your throat to get his attention.

“After you finish that, I can make you some soup?” You offered with a smile, and Steve looked over.

“Sure. That sounds good.” Steve matched your smile.

You nodded as Steve took a bite of the toast, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

—————————————————————————

Soon after Steve finished his toast, he trudged back into the bedroom and left it cracked open for you.

You were making some chicken noodle soup for him, except you didn’t really know how to cook homemade chicken middle soup so you used the stuff in a can.

Steve was staring up at the ceiling when he heard the microwave beep from afar, signaling that his soup was ready.

He craned his head just enough to see you walk in, sitting next to his legs as you placed the soup onto the bedside table.

“Here, let me help you.” You mumbled, gently grabbing his hand and putting your free hand on his upper back to help him situate into a sitting position against the headboard.

After Steve was comfortable enough, you grabbed the soup and carefully placed the warm bowl onto his lap — which thankfully wouldn’t burn him since he had a thick comforter.

Steve took a spoonful of the soup, letting out a small groan of satisfaction as the warm broth hit his tastebuds.

While he was off in his own personal heaven switching from eating the noodles and pieces of chicken to drinking the broth, you placed your hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

You fought the urge to immediately take your hand away from the burning skin.

Yeah, you knew he always ran warm, but he was never this warm. And it freaked you out a little bit.

“Jesus,” You cursed, pulling your hand back after keeping it there for a few moments.

Steve looked up, letting out an oblivious: “Hm?”

“You’re burning up, Steve.” You quickly got up to go grab a washcloth from the connected bathroom.

Steve watched your fleeting figure for a moment before going back to his soup, eventually finishing it and placing it on the bedside table.

You came back after a few seconds and placed the washcloth on Steve’s forehead before laying him back down.

“You done with the soup?” You asked quietly, pointing to the now empty bowl with a few remnants of carrots and celery along with some seasoning.

Steve nodded and you grabbed the bowl, walking back into the kitchen to wash it out.

“Why are you even in here?” Steve inquired once you returned. “You don’t need to be taking care of me like this.”

If Steve was being honest, this moment of vulnerability reminded him of when he was young. When he had a number of medical issues and his mother was working multiple jobs to help him simply live.

He was shaken out of his somber trance when you spoke up.

“Well we had a small meeting of who was going to watch you to make sure you recovered fine.” You explained with a breath.

“And I volunteered to do it.”

Steve let out a low hum of acknowledgement, his head lulling back against the pillow as he weakly readjusted the damp cloth on his forehead.

“You didn’t need to, I’m sure I’ll be fine by tomorrow.” Steve mumbled.

“But I appreciate the gesture,” He added as an afterthought, not wanting to sound rude.

You chuckled, getting up once you noticed the time.

8:06 P.M.

It wasn’t necessarily late, but you wanted Steve to get a lot of rest so you got up anyway.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch, if you don’t mind,” You paused for a moment to see if Steve would tell you to just go back into your quarters and come back in the morning.

But he didn’t. He didn’t have any sort of reaction so you took that as a good sign and continued speaking.

“So just call me if you need anything.” You flashed Steve another smile before turning and walking out of his bedroom, dimming the lights and leaving the door cracked open.

Just in case.

—————————————————————————

tags! : @ryvkkr (pls let me know if you don’t want to be tagged for marvel fics🙏)

[thebearer]

I can see Carmy loving when you cook for him, even if you’re not the greatest cook. You could make grilled cheese and tomato soup and he’d devour it

oh god non, i'm having big thoughts about this one.

it's close to mikey's death date, and carmy always gets a certain way. either he buries himself in work to the point he can barely breathe bc he doesn't want to think about it, or he just refuses to speak to anyone. just recluses himself to be in his own misery and depression.

this year was the latter.

carmy had called out of work- well, not called out. he just didn't show up, which was unusual. you'd texted richie that morning and he understood entirely. the bear was successful, he was making mikey's dream a reality, and still, it hit him hard this year. he stayed in bed, just rolled on the side to look out the window, watching the rain pour down over the city.

carmy wasn't great with words, truly. he struggled to tell you how he felt, find the right things to say, so he would always bring you food as an apology or a way to show you he loved you. you recognized the gesture as an act of love, one that was constant. making your favorite meals, cooking for you in a celebratory way, "i made that recipe you sent me", or when you were sick. it was his love language, what he loved to do and what he was certain in.

you, while you were far from skilled the way carmen was, wanted to show how much he meant to you back. you knew he wouldn't want to talk, he would talk to you if he wanted, but you didn't want him to feel so alone. so you made the one thing you knew to make- a grilled cheese and tomato soup.

it was juvenile, a little silly. you used the sour dough bread and the three layers of cheese- a far cry from the white and american you always made before carmy- and heated up a campbell's soup on the stove, adding your own spices to try and spruce it like carmy would. it wasn't great, you knew that, not close to what he could make, but you put it on a tray anyways, making your way to your shared bedroom.

"carmy," you called softly, peeking into the still dark room, illuminated only by the grey skies spilling in from the window.

he rolled over, dull, blue eyes meeting yours in a half lidded, sullen expression. your heart fell. "i, uh, i made you some lunch, baby." you hummed, moving closer, the spoon rattling against the bowl.

carmen sat up slowly, looking at the contents on the tray carefully. you rolled your lip under your teeth. "it's, uh, it's not like fancy or anything." you said quickly. "it's just... when i used to feel bad, i-i would always make this and, um, i just thought you might like it too. or-or it might help but-"

"-thank you." carmen's eyes shined, looking up at you sweetly. "this is... it looks great." he swallowed around the lump in his throat, thick with emotion.

you beamed, looking down at your feet. "thanks. it's nothing, really. i just thought you'd want something." you muttered, running a hand over his greasy curls. "i'll, uh, i'm gonna finish the laundry but i'll-"

"stay with me." carmen looked up at you, eyes rounding so sweetly how could you possibly say no? "please?"

so you did. sitting next to him in the bed, stealing nibbles of the grilled cheese, muttering sweetly next to him. was it the best? to you, no. it needed more flavor and was not even comparable to anything carmen made. but to him? it was perfect. the best meal on earth. he'd eat it every single fucking day if he could because it came from you.