#during the workday anyway

[klavierforte]

ooc.

i am ALIVE i PROMISE

[minweber]

Never thought I’d say something like that, but the drama of space robot politics in this show doesn't quite measure up to the drama of those teenage girls’ romance.

[deus-ex-mona]

why can’t this week just end alreadyyyyyyy

[orcelito]

Only scheduled 12-5 tomorrow :]

Have to make 8 batches of boba & stay later if needed to finish them :[

[pubby-paws]

venting in the tags sorry

[baekuras]

not me telling my boss i threw up and his suggestion being to take meds against diarrhea the specific one being the one i took on accident a few years back during my period in a hazen panic of pain starting at my internship and being in the worst pain i don't even remember anymore and just passing out the second i got home (up to my bed though) fully clothed

i was fine when i woke up again but dear god no i am NOT ever taking it if i have any other gut issues except for diarrhea no, stomach aches or twists do not count

also don't worry I am not actually sick It's a lie that sounds better than "I am actually feeling exhausted because I slept like 16 hours during one night of the weekend, then only up to 5 if I am lucky today, I feel like my life is wasting away and all I can do is sit there paralyzed because I don't even have the energy to go look for something-anything else"

if i am not overly petty i might join in a few hours because my coworkers are not at fault and understaffed but also...the comment made me salty because how do I go "Hey my guts are shit, I threw up-not feverish though don't worry it's fine, but it's not done yet" and you go "just pop in unrelated medical pills and join us soon" just the SOON is making my brain itch a bad way

whaddoyoumean sOON i called in NOW because there isn't a SOON if i knew there was a SOON i'd have mentioned it do not just assume that

more ranting beyond the line because i need to vent some and the tags will cut it off eventually

fun medical facts about ME :D diarrhea takes me about an hour-if it's bad maybe two-to subside enough for me not to run to the toilet every few minutes and start eating and keeping in food and water (might be able to eat tiniest pieces of toast before that-depends) (food here also means toast, i'd be fucked if i ate anything more substansial)

so i'd assume it's the same with throwing up I can't really use the last times I threw up because Last time I did that for like 5hours in 20 to 30minutes intervalls and I don't really remember much The time before was way back during my first period which I also don't remember much of....well anything except me crying and panicking, shugging apple juice to comfort myself only to throw it up and my mother feeling happy for me that I got my period while I just felt like dying so...not reliable sources

but just the casual assumption that i'll throw in some pills and join them in like 10minutes after opening or something just....grinds my gears just fuck off or i will get angry enough to actually throw up

again i do plan to join at least before 3pm for the sake of my coworkers (one shift ends at 3) but god fucking help him if he uses my overtime for the time I am away if he does i WILL leave and get sick-leave for that day and I will go tell my doctor i am pretty damn sure i am burnout-adjacent because I either just sleep or am at work and i'd really like to be able to do anything else in my free time thanks :D

[sturnellaneglecta]

Whats everyones top nostalgia scents. For me its sawdust, the cold smell of snow, rain on hot sidewalk, ponderosa pine, ozone summer storm smell, and lilac

[devourable]

⚠︎ the stalker

sfw, mdni, beta read by @fluffula | tags ;; masc yandere x gn reader — stalking (duh), themes of self deprecation/lack of self worth, erotomania

hii im back from my unannounced hiatus bc i have more time on my hands :] ik vega didnt win the poll but fsr theyre the only one i could get myself to write sooo 🫶 i know im super rusty since I haven't written in ages so sorry if this is a lackluster return fic. it just be like that

vega just wasn’t the type of person that people liked. it was a fact, and he was well aware of it.

they were lanky and awkward, unkempt, and often didn’t know what to say or do in any given social situation. no one went out of their way to interact with them and vice versa. the few times he ended up around others anyway, he always found himself sidelined by the few people he could refer to as friends — they’d never be the focus, if they weren’t forgotten about entirely.

they weren’t anyone’s first choice. hell, they weren’t a second or third choice, either. it was a sad existence that he had accepted long ago — why bother trying to fit in if he wasn’t wanted? he was so boring, he wouldn’t wanna hang out with himself either, anyway. so every day and every night, they were alone.

then, he met you.

it started so simply. you started working at the same office as them, and they knew off the bat that it was your first time in a place like this. they expected nothing of you — maybe a lukewarm greeting as you passed each other during the workday, but not much more than that. so it surprised them when after your introduction, you rounded their desk and gently asked if they could show you around. maybe it was something about your tone, maybe it was that friendly look in your eye, maybe it was just you as a whole. but something about you just got them. they were out of their chair before they realized it.

they weren't the talkative type, but it didn't matter — you kept asking questions during the entire tour. what was that room for? how long had they been working there? did they like working there? you wanted their attention and they for the life of them couldn’t get why. even less so, they didn’t understand why they were so ready to give it to you. they couldn't help the way they stuttered out their answers to your questions, nor the way their face flushed after you laughed at the way they responded. but you did have to work, so you withdrew from them eventually to do just that.

well after you departed to your cubicle, you remained on their mind. your voice, the way you laughed, how you looked, it all swirled around in their mind as they sat in their desk. it remained that way the entire day, the following night, and the day after — they couldn't get you off their mind!

you chose him. you chose him, out of everyone else in the office. you were the only person that did that, and it made them feel so seen. so real, so… loved? was this what love was? the pounding in their chest and their flushed face would make him believe so. they couldn’t wait to see you again. just the thought of you returning the next day and every day after that bloomed butterflies in their tummy.

vega’s longing for you only grew more and more intense after every passing day. every day you came to work, they’d be the first to greet you and the last to bid you goodbye. they even changed their days off to match yours — going to work hardly seemed worth it if you weren’t there to make the day more bearable. every day they sat at their desk, daydreaming about spending time with you, going home with you, doing all the things they never imagined that they’d ever do before. and even though they were too awkward to seek you out during the work day, it didn’t stop them from staring at you every chance they got.

but after that first day, you paid less and less attention to them. you had work to do, after all, and no matter how hard they yearned for you, it grew harder to get you to notice them and harder for them to watch you. it was excruciating. for the first time in his life, vega wanted to be wanted — by you, specifically. he wanted your attention, your voice, your eyes on them again. but if they couldn’t have that, they needed to see you more to make up for it.

the stalking started small at first. occasionally following you when you got up from your desk to give a file to your supervisor or use the restroom, pretending to be distracted should you ever notice them (which you hardly did — they didn’t know if that bothered them or not). sometimes he ended his day at the same time yours ended so he could walk out with you, watching you leave from their car before they left themself. and eventually they started to follow you home directly. it was always from a distance. they wouldn’t want to frighten you, after all! it was okay as long as you weren’t bothered by it, he told himself.

he memorized your routine so he could base his own around it. you went to the store? he was going too. spending the day at the library? he was stalking after you from a different aisle. sometimes they’d leave little gifts on your doorstep just to see your bewildered reaction. watching you became his favorite pastime — they almost liked it more than talking to you directly. you somehow never noticed them lurking, staring at you from some shady hiding spot, panting and trembling just from the sheer excitement that your existence caused them. were you aware of just how cute you were when you thought no one was watching you? knowing all your bad habits, your mannerisms and all the things you did in private was exhilarating. it was like a secret for just the two of you. and whenever you came into work and talked to him like you usually did, it made him so fucking excited. did you know? maybe you did and you were fine with it. that had to be why you were so nice to them. they loved the idea of you liking their bad behavior.

vega had no plans of confessing to you anytime soon. he had so much fun stalking you, he saw no need to ruin it with his feelings. besides, you liked them back anyway — you had to have, why else would you let him get away with it for so long? he knew you wanted him, and he wanted you in return. all he had to do was wait for you.

[beybaldes]

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft

Roy Kent × Fem!Reader

word count: 9.8k

summary: jamie tartt once told you Roy needed someone to show him it was okay to be soft; Roy has found that person in you

content warning: spoilers for the plot of 'the couple next door' by Shari Lapena, tooth rotting fluff with the whole Kent bloodline and the Richmond boys, neither reader nor Roy has parents because I said so, allusions to smut but basically non written.

masterlist

a/n: this is technically a part 2 to my fic ‘it was simple, it was sweetness, it was good to know’ but can 100% be read as a standalone fic!! Thank you for all the love on the first part I acc can’t believe the amount of love and support it received 🥲🥲

"Hey, hot stuff." Your hands came to rest against Roy's shoulders, squeezing, then moving slowly across his collar bones and down his chest, coming to rest connected just above his heart. A featherlight kiss was pressed to the shell of his ear, and then another behind his ear, followed by a trail of quick kisses down his neck until your face was buried in the crook of it. "How's your book?"

"Fucking great." Roy answered back, voice low and mellow, maintaining the peaceful atmosphere in your living room.

Ever since you'd moved in together a year and a half ago, your entire house had become a sanctuary for the two of you. Roy's new position as manager made it so that even though you worked together, you saw much less of each other during the workday - mainly because it wasn't at his leisure to go in and out of your office all day any more. Even if you did spend every minute of every day around each other, you knew you could never get sick of Roy; you'd become quite the experts at communicating how you were feeling and what you were thinking, especially since every time he tried to keep you out, you would figure it out anyway.

"I mean, I've had my theories throughout about who did it, but I'd never have guessed this." Roy missed your touch as soon as you let go of him, reaching out so that he could hold your hand in his tightly while you walked around the couch to take a seat by his side. "I thought surely, what, with the husband having the affair he did it - and I was half right, the husband staged the kidnapping."

"I knew something was up with him!" You gasped, wrapping your arms around Roy's waist as you curled into his side, the hand that had just been holding yours pulling his blanket to cover your lap then moving to rest across your shoulders. "How was the husband involved? He didn't hurt the baby did he?" He used the palm of his hand to press your head against his chest, tucking your hair back behind your ear and then moving his hand to rest against your bicep, scratching his fingers gently into the exposed flesh there. "Oh my god, he didn't, like, get rid of it so he could be with the neighbour did he?"

"Slow down, slow down," Roy shushed, folding the corner of the page he was on, something so close to the end of the book you could count the pages if you tried. He pressed a chaste, warm kiss to the crown of your head, placing the book down beside him on the couch. "Let me explain, Angel." Roy's other hand, now free from holding the book, cradled your chin gently, tilting your head up so he could press a tender kiss to your lips. "So Anne's dad-"

Another gasp slipped past your lips. More then anything, you wanted to let Roy explain the plot of what he'd been reading, but his nightly updates had kept you on the edge of your seat. Despite not having read a single page, apart from the 2 chapters you read aloud to Roy earlier in the week when he was feeling a little under the weather, you were completely and utterly enthralled; desperate to know how it ended. Besides, this daily discussion was the highlight of your days. No matter how good or bad your day had been, if you'd gone out of your way to ignore each other or talked nonstop: Roy still talked and you still listened. "What did Anne's dad have to do with it?"

"You'll see." He chastised, pressing a kiss to the tip-of your nose before continuing with his explanation. "Marco assists in kidnapping the baby, why? Because his business is going out of money and he plans on faking a ransom note for asking for the exact amount of money he needs to pay up to save his business." Roy slid his hand under the blanket, pulling your legs up and into his lap as you brought your head up from against his chest. Threading your fingers through his hair, you looked at him confused. "Anne's parents are rich, remember? But they won't give him the money so he stages this kidnapping to force them to pay the ransom."

"No." You gasped, you hand clapping against your mouth. "Why wouldn't they give their son in law the money? They do know it directly affects their daughter and grand-daughter, right?"

"They won't give him the money because they don't like him, so get this, the guy who convinced Marco to stage the kidnapping was hired by Anne's dad." Roy laughed at the gasp you let out, you completely enthralled with the story and him completely enthralled with you. He always was. "Anne's dad staged the whole thing because he wanted Anne and Marco to split up. And just when you think everything's okay because they got the baby back; Anne murders the neighbour because she had been having an affair - with Anne’s dad.”

You were practically jumping in your seat.

Sometimes you wish you had the same amount of patience as Roy so you could actually sit down and read with him. Most of the time, however, you were more then happy to listen to him passionately talk you through what he was reading, were happy to watch that wonderful smile you loved so much curl onto his lips.

"But!"

"But-" you repeated after Roy, pressing a kiss to his cheek, urging him to hurry up with his ending; you were waiting to hear it.

"But, Anne doesn't remember killing the neighbour, so there is this whole unreliable light cast on the whole story; it might not have even happened!" Roy expected to find you staring at him in shock, some commentary on what you think happened on the tip of your tongue, but it never came.

Instead, he found you staring at him with complete adoration, like you'd watched him mould the galaxies in his hands, hang the stars in the sky and spin the world on his fingernails. To you, he did, he really did. You leant forward a little, using the hand that you'd tangled in Roy's hair to pull him closer to you so that you could press your lips to his. The kiss was soft and tender, something that Roy, ever intense, had really come to enjoy through out your relationship; you brought out this entirely different side to him that he wasn't even sure existed until he met you.

"I love you." You murmured against his lips, going in for another quick peck before you pulled away, gracing him with the sight of a smile. "I love how passionate you get when talking about the stuff you love, and that smile - ugh that smile, Roy - you're killing me here."

Roy was certain he was doing the right thing. So certain, in fact, that he'd bought the ring the day you got together: Phoebe's accusation in your living room that you were getting married telling him everything he needed to know. The life Roy had dreamed of was right before him, all he had to do now was take it. "Marry me."

"What?" The hand that had began to caress his cheek as you kissed and the hand in his hair stilled; your entire body stilled in fact, and as quickly as he'd become confident enough to ask the question, he'd become nervous again.

"Fuck, what I meant was; will you marry me?" Roy shuffled underneath you, pulling out a ring box from somewhere behind him, though you weren't sure where considering you knew his pyjama bottoms didn't have pockets. "I'm not the kind of guy for a big speech thing, but I wish I was because you fucking deserve that kind of thing. You deserve a lot more then I can ever give you, actually, and yet you still love me day in and day fucking out. I'll admit, sometimes I don't get why you do."

"Roy..." You whimpered, tears brimming in your eyes as you moved both of your hands to cradle his face.

"But you do. And I'd truly, really, be the luckiest man in the world, if you would marry grumpy, old me." Tears had formed in Roy's own eyes, the pair of you totally overwhelmed by the intimate and tender moment. You'd never been more in love with Roy then right now. "Please fucking say yes, I'm an absolute mess without you"

"Yes, please." You whispered, hands still cradling Roy's face even though your eyes remained on the ring in front of you. It was as if he'd peeked inside your brain and made the perfect ring; it was simple yet elegant and entirely you, it was really perfect. This time, you answered louder. "Please, yes."

You pulled Roy's face to you, pressing a firm and hot kiss to his lips. You let your hands leave his face, sliding up and over his cheekbones until you reached his hair, twisting your fingers into it and pulling him even tighter against you, deepening the kiss as you did. "A million times yes, Roy, yes, yes, yes." Tears had begun to freely flow down your cheeks, though there was not an ounce of sadness to them. You were insurmountably happy - over the fucking moon. "I'd say yes in every fucking language in the world if I could. I love you Roy." You bit your lip back between your teeth, trying to contain your smile since your cheeks burned. "Mrs Kent." A giggle slipped past your lips. "That's me."

"Fuck yeah, that's you." Roy growled, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to your lips. His grip in your hair allowed him to tilt your head back slightly, giving him the perfect angle to push his tongue past your lips with a tug of his hand on your hair. If he had already put the ring on your finger, he'd have picked you up and taken you to bed then and there with the moan you let out. "Now, Mrs Kent, you going to let me put this ring on your fucking finger or what?"

~*~

You were thankful Roy had proposed on a Friday night; not only because that meant you didn't have to worry about how late he kept you up or how quickly you needed to regain the ability to walk straight, but because it gave you the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday to figure out how to tell your friends. Phoebe and Molly were coming over for dinner later that night, but you had a slight feeling you weren't actually going to have to say anything to them - you had no doubt Roy had consulted Molly over it, and Phoebe, well, you just knew she'd pick up on it the second she saw you.

"C'mere." Roy groaned beside you, not giving you the chance to move yourself before he was wrapping one arm around your waist and the other under your thigh. He slid you across the bed with ease, years of training still paying off despite the fact he hadn't played on a pitch in nearly 4 years now. Placing the leg he'd grabbed over his own leg, he pulled you flush against him, chest pressed to chest. "Good morning, Angel, sleep good?"

Roy's voice had a deeper edge then usual to it in the morning. "Always do when I'm with you, Handsome." You purred, gently scratching your fingers against his chest. "Although I've got this awful kink in my neck, must’ve slept funny."

"I can think of a few other kinks you've got." Roy murmured against your shoulder, pressing open mouthed kissed along it and up your neck. When he nipped at the sensitive skin just under your ear, you pushed yourself away from him, not out of want, but out of necessity.

"We've got guests in a few hours, remember?"

"I can do a lot in an hour alone." Given how late the two of you had been up doing things, you'd slept in till lunch, but that didn't make the sound of sleepy and slow morning sex with Roy any less appealing. God, the thought of it alone had you wanting to cancel everything ever and stay here forever.

"Hmm, that you can do." Pulling his head out of the crook of your neck, you pressed a kiss to his lips, tangling your hands into Roy's hair and trying impossibly hard to get even closer to him. "Show me what you got, coach."

A growl rolled out of Roy's throat and he was quick to get started on his own assault of your lips, fully using the position he'd pulled you into to his advantage.

~*~

After everything the two of you spent your early afternoon doing, you only had 2 hours to make sure everything was ready for when Molly and Phoebe showed up, and since your cooking skills ended at turkey dinosaurs and pizza, you left most of the work down to Roy. He let you help prepare ingredients, standing behind you with an arm wrapped around your waist and a hand guiding your hand to cut things a specific way. But when the time came to actually cook the meal, he guided you out of the kitchen, encouraging you to go and get ready with a soft kiss; one to your cheek and another to your temple.

When you'd showered and gotten ready, you made it your turn to kick Roy out of the kitchen, promising not to touch anything unless he asked you to. You made sure to set the table all nice and proper for Phoebe and Molly's arrival, still slightly starstruck by the actual use of the dining table and not just eating dinner on your couch like you'd become so accustomed to before you and Roy moved in together. Sometimes though, especially when Phoebe stayed over, you'd all eat dinner together on the sofa, spy kids playing in the background, for old times sake. And before you knew it, you'd heard the knock at the door.

Swinging the door open, you knelt down immediately, sweeping Phoebe into your arms and hugging her tightly. With her head tucked in between your shoulder and neck, you stuck out your left hand at Molly, wriggling your ring finger enthusiastically. Phoebe squealed your name, wrapping her little arms tightly around your neck; even though you'd seen her two days ago when you picked her up from school, she still missed you as much as if she hadn't seen you for a million years.

As you went to stand back up, phoebe kept her grip on your neck, a silent plea for you to pick her up. Even at 9 years old, she still loved being paraded around in your arms, taking full advantage of your love for her and her love of being close to you. You pulled Molly into the house by the hand, kicking the door shut with your foot and leading them to the kitchen, where Roy was finishing up dinner.

"Hi, Uncle Roy!" Phoebe opted to stay in your arms instead of wiggling out of them to give Roy a 'hello' hug, knowing he was busy cooking and shouldn't be interrupted.

"Hey Phoebe, dinner will be ready in 2 minutes, okay? Why don't you go and grab your phoebe mug from your room before we all sit down?" When you and Roy moved in together, it was a unanimous decision that Phoebe needed her own room in your house; and when you were moving her things from Roy and your separate houses into your new house you got her a 'phoebe mug' as a housewarming gift. It was a bright pink ceramic mug, her name written once by you on the front and once by Roy on the back - it was the only thing she would drink out of when she was at your house.

The second phoebe had slipped out of the room, you turned to Molly with a squeal, the two of you grabbing tightly onto each other and jumping around the kitchen. Roy watched fondly as the two of you gushed over the ring Molly had already seen a thousand times. She took your hand in hers, running her finger over the ring with a featherlight touch, tears filling her waterline. Molly grabbed your hand and pulled it over her shoulder, hugging you again, though this time more tenderly, more teary-eyed.

"I'd say welcome to the family, but I think you've been a part of it since the day you met Phoebe." Tears began to fill your own eyes at the words she whispered against the shell of your ear. "You make him so happy, so, so happy, and that's all I could ever want for Roy. It's all I ever way for you." Molly pulled away from the hug, wiping her thumb under your eye as your tears threatened to spill over. "He loves you. We all do. I love you."

"I love you too, Molly." Just as quickly as she'd pushed you away, you pulled her in for another hug, squeezing her tightly as though it would convey everything you were feeling. It did.

At the sound of feet running down your hallway, Molly jumped away from you, quickly wiping at her own eyes before turning to face her little girl. She gently took the mug from her hands and passed it to you, ushering her to the dining table while you and Roy plated up.

"What did she say to you?" Roy asked, knocking his hip against yours as he he started putting food into each plate.

You pulled Phoebe's favourite cordial off your shelf, pouring some in then moving past Roy to get to the sink to dilute it. "Nothing." He couldn't see the smile that formed on your face as you thought on what your future sister in law had said to you moments prior. "Just that she loves me, she loves you. That she's happy for us."

Roy wrapped an arm around you from behind as he came to join you at the sink, leaning past you to put his cooking tongs in. "I can't wait to see Phoebe's reaction." Roy murmured against the skin of your neck, pressing a kiss there then spinning you around to face him. "She absolutely adores you. She's gonna be over the fucking moon."

"Not more over the moon then me." You pressed another kiss to his lips, making sure to keep the cordial far away from you and Roy incase it spilled.

Roy turned his back on you, picking up two of the bigger plates. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"Oh really?" You asked, picking up the final big plate and Phoebe's smaller own. "I get to marry the love of my life and be officially related to some of the people I love the most. I think I win."

"We'll see." With one last kiss the two of you headed towards the dining table, all four of you tucking into dinner and telling each other about your weeks like clockwork; though you and Roy refrained from one pretty big event till after dinner.

When your food was all finished, you'd given Phoebe a bigger bowl of ice cream then usual, immediately prompting her to be suspicious. "Either I've been really good at school this week, or you guys have done something really bad."

"It's not like that Pheeb's, we're actually celebrating." Phoebe's head perked up at that as she mentally checked it wasn't anyone's birthday, or 'uncles day,' or Mother's Day, or 'future aunties day' (as she'd dubbed it) and she'd forgotten. When she ruled that she definitely hadn't forgotten anything, she turned to you in wait.

"What are we celebrating?"

"Me and your uncle Roy-"

"Holy shit." Smiles crept on all three of your faces as Phoebe pieced it together in her mind. "Are you getting married? Please tell me you're getting married?"

"Are getting married." As you brought your ring adorned hand up for her to see, Phoebe burst into tears, jumping off of her seat and running around to the other side of the table where you and Roy sat. She was quick to climb into Roy's lap, wrapping one arm around each of your knecks to pull you into a hug.

"This is the best day of my life." She whispered, her words coming out in a whine as she tried desperately hard to keep her tears in. "Do I get to be a flower girl?"

"Of course you get to be the flower girl, what kind of fucking question is that?" Roy scolded though a smile remained on his face, you wouldn't have anyone one else as your flower girl. Your niece was barely walking and besides, not that you'd ever admit it with them present, but you much preferred Phoebe to any blood relative you had.

Phoebe's face turned into a frown at Roy's words. "You owe me £1, uncle Roy."

"After the S-bomb you dropped before? I think we're even."

~*~

When Monday rolled around, you were extremely nervous. It wasn't that you thought any of the people at Nelson road would react badly to your engagement, you knew non of them would, you were nervous in the way you are at 8 years old on Christmas Eve - in a giddy way when you can't wait for what you feel to be shared.

You'd come up with a plan in bed the night before - announce it to Beard first, then to the boys, and then you'd make your way up to Rebecca's office to announce it to her, Higgins and Keeley (who'd you thankfully knew would be at the dog track this morning for a meeting).

To execute step 1 with no interruptions, you made sure to arrive an hour earlier to work then you usually would - knowing that Beard liked to show up early and the boys would show up as close to practice as they could get away with. Just as you expected, Beard was alone in the office, only a couple of other people in the building at all, making for an easy entrance.

"Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of you two showing up earlier then you ever have in the 5 years I've known you." Beard asked, his feet perched high up on his desk and an open book dropped against his chest.

"I needed to ask you something, actually." Roy wrapped an arm around your waist, rubbing soothing circles into your skin, silently encouraging you to ask what you wanted to ask.

"Fire away, Katniss."

"I actually wanted to ask, um, well, if you'd walk me down the aisle?"

Beard stilled, then took a shaky breath, then stilled again. He slowly picked up the book from his chest, dog-eared the page and swung his feet down from his desk, standing and crossing the room so that he could stand in front of you. "You, you-" Another shaky breath. "You want me? Me? To walk you down the aisle?"

"Yeah. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a father and-"

Beard pulled you into a hug, something he'd never done before, and tentatively wrapped his arms under yours, pinning you against him. He was warm and smelled like cinnamon, and though you'd never been a big fan of the scent, you found right now that you'd happily bask in it forever. "Yes, of course I will, it'd be an honour."

No further words were exchanged between the two of you until he pulled away, quickly wiping at his eyes before turning to Roy with a scowl. "I can fight, just so you know." He took a step closer to him, and you swore you'd never seen Roy so afraid as when Beard stuck a firm finger in his chest. "If you hurt her, I'll hurt you." Then he retreated to his chair, picking up his book and replacing it against his chest. "So when were you thinking? I always thing spring is the best time for a wedding."

The three of you discussed everything from what date you were thinking to ideal song choices while you waited for the changing room to fill up, wanting to make sure everyone had arrived before you shared the news. When Roy had done his 6th head count and found everyone had arrived, he nodded towards the door, asking if you were ready to go and tell everyone. You nodded, letting Roy lead the way and hanging in the doorway of the coaches office until Beard was at your side.

"You didn't have to threaten him, you know. He's never hurt me once, I don't think he's going to start now."

Beard folded his arms across his chest then nudged you gently in the side as the the two of you came to stand next to Roy, him shouting 'whistle,' silencing the changing room. "Hey, that's what dads are for."

"Before I start, someone grab Nate and Will from the boot room." Jamie, being closest to the boot room, dashed in and right back out, Will and Nate right behind him. "Right. Angel, the floor is yours."

You thanked Roy before turning back to the boys, all of them waiting anxiously as they waited to see what you had to say that was so important Roy had even called Will and Nate out. "I need to know if you're all available next June - we're talking the end of June, early July." Thankfully, your job at Richmond often required planning things far in advance, even if far in advance was a year away, so no one expected anything as you started to speak. "I know it's the off season but I need you all here, in Richmond. Especially Colin."

"Why especially me?" Colin asked, one hand nervously wringing the other.

"Because I absolutely refuse to get married if my man of honour won't be able to make it."

The whole changing room erupted into a chorus of gasps, quickly followed by cheers and players and kitmen alike swarming you and Roy with hugs and cries of congratulations - which, for once, he actually entertained.

Colin was the first to reach for you to pull you into a hug, his hands shaking as he did. "You really want me to be your man of honour? At your wedding?"

"Of course I do, Col." It didn't get any less tearful asking people to be apart of your wedding. "Your my best friend. I love you." No sooner then Colin had pulled you into another hug had you been torn out of it, by a very excited Jamie.

"I can't fucking believe it me. Well, I can actually, but I also can't." He pulled you in for an even tighter hug then Colin had, probably down to the fact he had more excitement then nerves coursing through his system. "Feels like yesterday me and Phoebe were sat on your couch convincing you Roy did love you, and now look at yous."

"Will Phoebe be at the wedding?" Isaac had spun you out of Jamie's hold and into his, keeping one arm around your shoulder as he spoke to you. "Cause I don't want to be the only person eating the turkey dinosaurs; there will be turkey dinosaurs right?"

"Of course there will be, Isaac." Will pulled you out from under Isaac's arm and into a sweet, although brief, hug. "Right? Otherwise I might have to RSVP no."

"Im sure it can be arranged, what, with all of Roy's footballer money." The two laughed at your words, though a certain footballer turned coach found them more amusing.

"All my footballer money, huh?"

"I hope the fact I'm only marrying you for your money doesn't make you want to call off the wedding." You teased, spinning around and wrapping your arms around Roy's neck.

He pressed a slow and sensual kiss to your lips, ignoring the teasing shouts and cheers from his team. "Hmm, you're lucky you're cute." Roy pressed another kiss to your lips, paying no mind to the curious stares of the team around him. Though when they began to linger for a minute too long, he pulled away from you with a sigh. "Right, 50 laps, all of you." When no one moved, he raised his voice. "Now!"

Roy intertwined his fingers with yours, waving a goodbye to Beard but promising to be back before the boys had finished their 50 laps.

Keeley had reacted just how you expected her to - with many screams and squeals and a tight hug that nearly knocked you off the ground. Rebecca and Higgins were much more reserved in their responses but each offered a hug and a congratulation's to the happy couple. Roy kept your fingers intertwined the whole time, squeezing your hand tight each time someone reached out for a hug but putting up with their love otherwise.

You couldn't wait to marry him.

~*~

Knowing that the off season would start around  the beginning of June, you'd decided early on the last week of June was the perfect time for the two of you to get married. And while the end of June was still a month and a half away, you were seriously considering calling the wedding off.

When you'd found out you were pregnant in February, you knew you had to keep it a close secret until you'd finished the first trimester, just incase anything happened to you or the baby, and each week since you'd found out you kept swearing to yourself you were going to tell Roy. You still hadn't. Which brought you to right now, where you were crying on the floor of your ensuite bathroom at the dead of night, at just over 12 weeks pregnant and a baby bump beginning to show.

Given the cold weather of early spring you'd kept it hidden pretty well so far, but with the progressively warmer weather, it was getting harder and harder to hide. Above that, you were now very much aware that since the baby bump had appeared, it was only going to get bigger - and you were in absolute tears over wether or not you were still going to fit into the outfit you'd picked. While your choice of outfit for your wedding wasn't anything extravagant, it made you feel extremely pretty, and hugged you in just the right way - it wouldn't if you were four months pregnant and with a baby bump that you felt was the size of Saturn.

One particularly loud sob had you clamping a hand over your mouth, hoping and praying to anything out there that Roy hadn't heard you. You didn't want him stressing, especially when you were crying over trivial things considering the life you'd always dreamed was within your grasp.

Roy's eyes blinked open though he wasn't entirely sure why, however, when he rolled over and attempted to wrap his arms around you, he was met with cold and empty sheets. The cool feel of the sheets beneath his fingers had him shooting awake; clearly you'd been out of bed a while, and considering it was pushing 2am, his first thought was that you were sick. Which wasn't too far from the truth.

Slowly, he made his way towards your en-suite bathroom, rubbing at his eyes to get him to wake up quicker. Pushing the door open, his entire being froze at the sight of you crying on the bathroom floor, him immediately falling to the ground next to you and pulling you into his lap. One hand brushed your hair out of your face while the other cupped the back of your head, pressing it into the crook of his neck. "It's okay Angel, I'm here, I'm here."

It took Roy roughly 15 minutes of rocking you gently in his arms and whispering soothing words into your hair before your sobs calmed down enough that you could talk without your words turning into a whimper. "C'mon Angel, talk to me." The way Roy oh so gently cradled your face had tears springing to your eyes again. "Or is it about me? Do you want me to call Molly? I'm sure she wouldn't mind-"

"No, it's about me." A fresh set of tears were rolling down your cheeks, but the heaving sobs that had been coming from your chest before ceased. "It's me, I've ruined everything."

"Angel..."

"I just wanted to wear a nice fucking outfit on my wedding day, and I can't, and its making me so sad it's stupid." Roy's thumb continuously wiped at the tears that were furiously running down your cheeks. "And it makes me even more sad because, because, I'm getting everything I've ever dreamed of and I'm sad over something stupid like what I can wear."

"It's not stupid, Angel face." Roy murmured against your temple, the scratch of his beard against your skin familiar and comforting. "Nothings stupid if it makes you so upset. Just talk me through it, yeah? Why can't you wear what you picked? Did it get damaged or something?"

"No, no, it's fine, it's just- it won't fit me anymore." Roy pressed a kiss to your temple, immediately spouting words of reassurance that it would still fit you and if it didn't he'd hire the best tailor in the world to make it fit and that regardless, you'd look incredibly beautiful no matter what you wore. You shook your head gently. "It's not that Roy, it's, I'm-"

You readjusted yourself in Roy's lap, turning so that your legs were either side of his, caging him in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking down at the bump you could just see through one of Roy's old jerseys you'd fallen asleep in, while you avoided his concerned gaze. "It's not going to fit me anymore, because I'm pregnant, Roy."

Silence filled the bathroom.

When you finally gained the courage to look up at Roy, tears were pooled in his eyes, that wonderful smile of his making the most tender appearance you'd ever seen. "You're pregnant?" He whispered, mumbling the two words over, and over, and over again. "You're pregnant."

Before you could ask Roy if he was okay, he was pressing his lips to yours, allowing the tears to fall from his eyes though without the noise of a sob. He simply kissed you over, and over, and over again, only pulling away when he could no longer contain the smile that what pulling at his lips. Your hands cradled his cheeks, wiping away each tear gently with the pad of your thumb. "I can't believe I'm crying." He scoffed, though didn't move away from to ur touch as you continued to wipe away his tears.

"If it makes you feel any better, I find the vulnerability of it incredibly hot."

One of Roy's hands moved from the side of your thighs to cup your cheek, pushing hair back behind your ear as a watery smile took over his face.

"You know," Roy paused, tenderly running his fingers up and down the side of your neck as his hand slipped down from your cheek to hold you there. "If you'd come to me 5 years ago, back when Ted and Beard first started, and told me in 5 years time I'd have everything I'd ever dreamed of? And, with the gorgeous woman from the office outside the changing rooms? I would've laughed in your face and told you to fuck off." After a moments thought, he added. "I probably wouldn't have let anyone get close enough to me to tell me that in the first place, to be honest."

"Look how far you've come." You mused, one hand slipping into the hair at the base of Roy's neck as his tears slowly stopped. "Some might say that I've made you go soft.”

Roy laughed, head tilted back against the bathroom wall as he was prevented from throwing it back further. The tilt of his head upwards granted you the perfect position to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He smiled at you softly, bringing his hand forward from the side of your neck so that he could cup your jaw. "To be loved, is to be changed." He hummed, his chest tightening as tears filled your eyes once more.

"I love you, Roy." You whispered, as though even saying it would break the sincerity of the words slipping from your lips. Although you'd said them a thousand times, it was like Roy was hearing it for the first time all over again. "Like I really, really love you Roy." Leaning forward, you rested your forehead against his. "So much... so much so that I feel like I'm never going to be able to express it enough, like if I don't get it out of me, I might die."

Roy pressed a searing kiss to your lips, sliding his hand back up your jaw and under your ear, tangling his fingers in the hair there. "I love you too, more then i ever thought I was capable of loving anyone.” Roy leaned in for another kiss then pulled away with a smirk as you ground yourself into him. "Want me to show you how much I love you, yeah?"

"Definitely."

Roy put his hands back to their original place under your thighs, slowly moving the two of you from your position on the bathroom floor to standing once more. When he was standing, you held in his arms with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, you continued the clash of tongue and teeth you'd started moments again. However, before he could get started on showing you just how much he loved you, you leaned away from him, eyes running over his whole face. "You might have to hold off on doing that thing with your hips, y'know, because of the baby."

"I'll stop doing that when the doctor tells me to stop."

~*~

Fortunately for you, at your next check up the following Thursday, the doctor gave you the all clear - on the health of the baby and the fact Roy could continue working magic with his hips. Considering you were nearly 14 weeks along, the ultrasound technician had offered to let you know the gender of the baby, but both you and Roy had agreed that you didn't want to know. You so seriously didn't want anyone to know, in fact, that Roy made a show of ripping up the envelope that contained the baby's gender right in front of the ultrasound technician after she offered it out to you; her suggestion of a gender reveal dying on her tongue.

Roy had been nothing but attentive since he'd found out; moving at your beck and call even more then normal, so much so that people around Nelson road were beginning to notice.

"Alright, what's going on?" The second Roy left your office, Isaac, Colin and Will crowed into the room, locking the door behind them. If you weren’t such a veteran of their shenanigans, you'd be getting concerned. "Are you dying?"

"Why would I be dying?" You asked, clicking the email you'd been writing closed, giving the three lads your undivided attention.

"Roy's been following you, like, more then usual though." Isaac stated, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "Weird, innit."

Before you could question what they found weird about you talking to and hanging around your fiancé, Will stepped forward, his hands tucked sheepishly in his pockets. "You're pregnant, right? I'm like 80% sure you're pregnant."

Your hand came to rest against the small bump you'd concealed under your Richmond sweater.

"Holy fuck boyo." Colin gasped, smacking his hand into Will's chest. "She is. How did you know?"

"She's glowing." Isaac and Colin tilted their heads in sync while their gaze remained directly on you, as though they were trying to see what Will saw. When it appeared they couldn't, Will let out a sigh, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. "I don't know; maybe it's the lighting."

Silence took over your small office space, the four of you alternating between staring at each other and the hand that rested against your stomach.

"Angel, you got-" Roy paused at the sight before him, scanning the room with a pointed glare. While Isaac had had the sense to lock the main door to your office when he started his interrogation, it had seemed he had forgotten to lock the connecting door from your office into the changing rooms. You'd never been more thankful to be in an office with two doors.  After a few more seconds of assessment, he seethed out a "Fuck! Not a word of this to anyone, yeah?"

All three lads nodded in silence, scurrying from the room after a particularly harsh glare from Roy had told them they had overstayed their welcome in your office. As your head fell into your hands due to the stress of it all, Roy crossed the room, slipping his fingers into your hair and scratching gently at your scalp. "They're not going to tell anyone, Angel, don't stress."

"But, what-"

"No buts, or what if's, or anything." Roy chastised, pulling your head out of your hands and crouching down to meet you at eye level. He took your hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. "We tell everyone when you're ready. And if that's after the wedding, then that's after the wedding." Roy pressed a kiss to your knuckles. "And that's that."

You let out a long sigh, weight lifted from your shoulders at Roy's gentle touch and soothing words. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"You've mentioned it once or twice."

~*~

You were too scared to put your outfit on. After almost 10 months of planning every detail and waking up to see your engagement ring on your finger, you were finally getting to be Mrs Kent. And you were too scared to go out there and get dressed.

When Will, Colin and Isaac found out you were pregnant, it was on accident, but going out there, before your man of honour, bridesmaids, Phoebe and Beard to put on your outfit would be intentionally revealing your baby bump. It was so stupid, you thought, to be this worried about something that would make people happy - that would make you and Roy happy. But a small part of you just wanted things to work out how you'd planned then in your head; like being able to wear what you'd picked to marry the love of your life.

However, you wanted to get married to Roy more then you cared about keeping the baby a secret.

Everyone gasped as you walked into the main part of the hotel room. You'd forgone a dressing gown in favour of getting ready in the comfort of pyjama shorts and one of Roy's old jerseys, wanting to have a part of him with you even though you wouldn't see him the night before the wedding.

Roy had actually wanted to forgo the traditional 'no seeing the bride bullshit,' him in favour of spending every second he could get with you, but Keeley and Jamie had convinced him it would make that moment of you walking down the aisle all the more special. Though as you walked into the room, you'd wished more then anything you'd convinced Keeley to let him stay with you. All you wanted was his hand in yours as you did this.

All eyes fell to the shadow of a baby bump that could be seen through the loose material of Roy's jersey; it was the one he wore at his very first Richmond match, Kent printed and worn proudly on the back. No one moved or even dared to breath.

"Surprise?" You didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but the tense silence and feel of everyone's eyes on you had you shying away from your friends and family in a way you'd never done before. "I'm pregnant!"

Molly was the first to move, crossing the length of the room and pulling you into an embrace. "I love you." She whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'm going to be an auntie." Within seconds the remaining people in the room swarmed you into one big group hug. Each of Colin, Keeley, Rebecca and Beard whispered congratulations to you, telling you just how beautiful you looked and how excited they were to see you walk down the aisle. Phoebe, however, pulled the funniest face at you, her brow tense in the spitting image of Roy.

"You're not wearing that, are you?"

Phoebe had magically broke the tension of the room, smiles all around as Molly and Keeley ushered you back to the other side of the door, helping you into your outfit and making sure your hair stayed in the way you'd styled it when you got changed. Fully dressed and feeling yourself, you stepped back into the main room with newfound confidence.

You were going to marry Roy - Roy who updated you on his book every night and valued your opinion on it, who still brought you lunch everyday at work, who was willing to hold you on the bathroom floor at 3am when he should've been sleeping, who made you feel like you were the only person in a room that mattered - and you couldn't be more excited.

Colin held your hand the entire drive from the hotel and the whole way from the car to the church doors. Only two pieces of wood separated you from everything you'd ever wanted. He pressed a featherlight kiss to your cheek and wished you luck before heading inside, leaving just you and Beard outside the building.

"You nervous?" He asked, moving his hand so that it rested lovingly on the small of your back.

"It's Roy." Roy always made you nervous. From the smile that had you weak in the knees when he actually decided to show it, to the butterflies the simple movement of his fingers against your skin caused; Roy had you swooning every time he looked at you. "I can't wait to get in there."

"Can you wait a second?" Ted Lasso was stood behind you, hands bashfully tucked into suit pants pockets.

"Ted." You gasped, opening your arms but not leaving Beard's side. The American rushed towards you, scooping you into a tender hug. "What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't make it..."

"Well, you know how Roy is, stubborn, hard-headed," Ted had aged a little since you last saw him on English soil, but he still held that quintessential ted spirit to him; even though he looked a lot more tired then you ever remembered him being. "Will do anything for the people he loves. Even if that's calling someone everyday for 8 months straight and convincing them to clear their calendar."

Roy who called one of your favourite people daily until he convinced them to make time to come to your wedding despite the fact they'd have to fly halfway across the world to attend.

"Well, I'm glad you're here Ted." He pressed a kiss to your temple, unwrapping himself from you and flattening out the front of his suit.

"I'll see you in there." Ted walked to the doors Colin had entered through moments ago, stopping and turning back to you at the last second. "You look beautiful by the way, you're practically glowing." With a knowing wink, Ted slipped through the doors, finding the way to his seat to wait for the ceremony to begin.

"Well, I think we're really ready now." You mused, linking your arm though Beard's. When you turned to flash a smile at him, you saw eyes filled with fondness, tears threatening to cloud his vision if he thought about the scene before him for too long. "Aren't we Willis?"

"Lets go, sweetheart." The pet name struck you to your core, your hand squeezing his bicep in reassurance. There was no one else you'd want to walk you down the aisle. "You're getting married!"

The ceremony ran perfectly. Willis walked you down the aisle and handed you off to Roy after whispering what you were certain was a threat in his ear. Tears brimmed Roy's waterline the whole ceremony, but they didn't spill over under you were pronounced husband and wife. No one commented on the tears that ran down Roy's cheeks, and you didn't think anyone was ever going to bring it up; a mutual understanding settling over the room that the Roy Kent that stood at the alter wasn't Roy Kent football sensation, but that he was Roy Kent, loving husband.

All those years ago Jamie had been completely and utterly right, all Roy needed was someone to show him it was okay to be soft. Thankfully, he had found that in you.

~*~

"Nell, go back to sleep baby, daddy's here."

Roy had his back turned to you as he rocked Penelope in his arms, murmuring some song that you couldn't quite make out under his breath to help her get back to sleep. In the 4 weeks since Penelope - or 'Nell' as Roy had lovingly started calling her - had been born, Roy had more then proved himself to be the amazing dad you knew he would be. Though he'd voiced his worries about not being a good dad several times throughout your pregnancy, each time you'd soothed away the worry; scratching your fingers against his scalp and reminding him of everything he'd ever done for Phoebe.

Phoebe had been the most excited to meet the baby, begging her mum to let her come over every single day after school so that she could spend time with her newborn cousin (even though that time was mostly spent with Phoebe in your lap with Nell in hers).

The Boys at Nelson Road came in for a close second when it came to being excited to meet the baby. Will, Colin and Isaac had made it their duty to show up to you and Roy's house every day after training when you were 7 months along in order to paint the babies nursery and build all the furniture that you'd bought.

They were even worse when you went into labour.

Roy had called Beard to let him know the two of you wouldn't be able to make it to work that Tuesday, and Beard loaded up the coach for a group trip to Richmond's hospital. You had the whole of AFC Richmond crowded in the waiting room, arms filled with stuffed animals, balloons and flowers. Jamie had charmed up the nurse who you were charged to, convincing him to let all of the players into your room at once. While most of the team fawned over the baby, gave you their best wishes then made their way back to the coach, Colin, Isaac, and Will asked to hold her, tears filling their eyes as they took in the sight of the tiny baby.

"She's beautiful." Colin whispered, lightly running the tip of his finger up and down her button nose. "With your parents, you're going to be the coolest kid ever. And Uncle Colin is going to make sure of it."

"You know," Will whispered, stiff as a board as he held Penelope on his arms, scared to even breath less it hurt the baby. "I remember that day I saw you with Phoebe in Tesco, and I told you I didn't realise you were a mum." Roy shot you a confused glance, reminding you you'd never actually filled him in on your trip to the supermarket that day with Phoebe. "And now you are one. It almost doesn't feel real."

"I've never held a baby before." Isaac admitted, the most relaxed holding her despite his inexperience. "It's weird, innit. Like, this baby I'm holding right now started out nothing and now she's real and alive and in my arms…Spooky."

Jamie, however, you practically had to force to hold Nell; and even then he was scared shitless. When you managed to convince him to take a seat on your hospital bed, he seemed less tense about holding her, but the ever present crease in his brow told you otherwise. "She looks just like you."

"She's got Roy's nose, and I bet she'll have his eyebrows too."

Jamie's eyes never left the baby, even as the other boys slipped out of the room with one last goodbye and a promise to come and visit Nell again when you got sent home.

"Ask us what her full name is." Roy kicked Jamie's foot, finally snapping his attention away from the newborn.

"You what?”

Apparently, he hadn't been listening, the tender tone to Roy's voice leaving as soon as it had arrived. "I said ask us what her full name is, fuckhead."

Jamie didn't ask you, he wasn't sure he could get the words out without choking up, the suggestion of the question springing tears to his eyes.

"Her full name is Penelope Jamie Kent." You hadn't seen Jamie so upset since Roy dragged him into your office, sobs wracking his body, two years ago before the journey up north to play against Manchester City at the Etihad.

He pulled Nell closer to his chest, hugging her as best as you could hold a baby, then passed her to Beard, pulling Roy in for the tightest hug you'd ever seen the two share. When Jamie came to hug you, he pressed a kiss to your cheek, whispering in your ear; "You've made Grandad go all soft." And after a brief pause. "The rest of us too."

Beard didn't stay long after Jamie left, knowing the coach was only waiting on him to return to training. He muttered something under his breath, pressed a kiss to Nell's head and then handed her back to you, pressing a kiss to yours. "Jamie’s right. Spitting image of you. Though I do agree she has Roy's nose."

"I hope she gets his smile." You quietly confessed, not missing the way Roy's lips curled up into the wonderful  smile you loved so much. "We got something for you." Roy pulled out a gift bag from next to your 'we need to go to the hospital the baby is coming' bag and handed it to his fellow coach. Beard waisted no time opening the gift, a soft smile curling on his lips as he pulled out the mug, 'worlds best grandad' printed on the front and a Richmond crest printed on the back. "I love you...dad."

A tear silently ran down Beard' cheek but he didn't wipe it away, pulling you and the baby in for a group hug. After a tight squeeze, he opened up his arms, a silent invite for Roy to join. He did so without question, thanking Willis for everything.

Beard had used the mug at Nelson Road everyday since.

Nell had made a total of 3 visits so far to Nelson Road; every Thursday afternoon being the day you'd come to the dog track with her and disrupt afternoon training so that the boys could fawn over her as an end of the week treat. Tomorrow would be her 4th visit, and yet, Roy had been the one to wake up and tend to her when he'd have to be up in a few hours to coach Jamie and you could essentially sleep in until 12 and still be on time.

As he put Nell back inside her cot, you wrapped your arms around his waist and slid them up and under the front of his t-shirt. "You're such a good dad, Roy."

"Only cause you make me a good dad." He turned around in your hold, your hands now up the back of his shirt, his arms now over your shoulders/

"That doesn't even make sense." You countered, resting your chin against his chest so that you could look at him. Roy took the opportunity to press a slow and tender kiss to your lips.

"Fuck off, it totally does."

"Doesn't."

"Does."

"Doesn't."

"Does."

At a whine from Nell, the two of you fell silent, not wanting to wake her after Roy had just put her back to sleep.

"She know it makes sense." The two of your were looking down at Nell's tony from where she slept soundly in the crib.

"She's only agreeing cause it's you." You lowered your chin so that the side of your head rested against Roy's chest, giving you a better look at your beautiful baby girl. "She's a total daddy's girl already, you know."

"Gets that from her mother." Roy paused after he spoke, realising quickly that his words hadn't made much sense or come out in the way he intended. "I meant, she's a total me, girl. Like she loves me a lot because you love me a lot. Fuck."

"I knew what you meant, handsome."

Roy quirked his eyebrow at your response. "You did huh?" He swept you off your feet, literally, carrying you back to your bedroom with a slip in his step.

You hand slapped against his bicep, a gasp slipping from your lips as your pieced together Roy's words paired with his suggestive tone and that glint in his eye. "The doctor said no sex for 6 weeks, Roy."

"No penetrative sex for six weeks." Roy clarified, laying you down on the mused bedsheets and kissing his way down your form; starting with scrapes of teeth against the sensitive skin of your neck, all the way down to the thick skin of your thighs. "The guy said nothing about oral."

an : thanks for reading this far *mwah* I love you <33 I hope you enjoyed this!!! Please feel free to send in a request for Roy or Jamie I'd love to write it!!!

[theold-ultraviolence]

Blanket hoarder

summary: Reader's annoyed musings over Eddie hoarding the blankets when they sleep together. cw: established relationship, gender neutral reader, shenanigans of living together, pure fluff with a light side of angst because reader gets annoyed at Eddie. words: 1.6K (this was supposed to be a blurb lol)

A sneaky slip of fabric. 

Your teeth start to clatter. Consciousness returns as your body starts shivering, groaning against the pillow. 

Not again! 

“Stop hoarding the goddamn blankets!” you growl as you yank back the blanket back to your body, not even caring if you wake Eddie.

You roll back to your side angrily – cursing as the alarm starts ringing just when you have gotten warm again, not even a second after – Jesus christ! 

Now you have to drag your legs out one by one into the freezing bathroom, loathing to get ready for the long workday ahead when there’s that lingering chill in your body from the lack of proper cover in your sleep. 

You bitterly glare at Eddie’s body from the reflection in the mirror as you brush your teeth, looking like a snuggle bug all warm and cozy – lowkey envious he gets to sleep in just for a little longer before having to leave for work. 

You finish cleaning yourself up and come to watch him from the door, his snug form dimly lit by the faint glow emanating from the bathroom. You can’t help but chuckle internally. 

Fucking Eddie. 

You used to sleep so peacefully with him in the beginning. He would envelop you in his arms, with your nose pressed up into his neck, arms clinging to him as if you would float away like a balloon in the night sky of your dreams if you didn’t. Or he’d spoon you from behind, and the soft puffs of his breath against your skin would calm you, like the constant flame of a campfire right at home inside your heart. 

Even when he sprawled on the bed like a starfish, you’d hook your leg around his hip, with your nose all nestled in the fuzzy heat from his armpit, regardless of the smell. It smelt like the finest cashmere to you anyway. That was just love. 

When you finally moved in together, that remained for the first weeks until, little by little, change came as it naturally does when certain things become a habit.

That’s when you discovered that Eddie was the absolute worst blanket hoarder.

Instead of sleeping entangled through the night, your bodies would drift on their own accord to your respective corners of the bed, curling back to back –  with just your butts touching, Eddie’s light snores echoing away from you, and your drool pooling on your pillow for once instead of his t-shirt. 

But then, like clockwork, you’d wake around three AM, wondering why the hell you were shivering when you slept with four blankets atop you. You’d turn, and through the heavy curtains of your sleepy eyes, you’d see your boyfriend all bundled up like a burrito, with his curls barely distinguishable underneath all that fluff. 

You’d snuggle up to his back, moaning as you slid inside the blankets and spooned him, quickly falling asleep again to the soothing rise and fall of his breathing as you pressed your cheek between his shoulder blades. 

It didn’t bother you that much, how could it? When Eddie’s mind – that raced with worries and wonder alike – could finally be at peace when he curled up like that? In the bed that belonged to the both of you no less. Not his own over at Wayne’s, or the one at your parent’s house, but yours. Where your scent and his own had already fused into one heavenly aroma, where the cheap mattress had already begun to dip with the shape of your bodies. You couldn’t even be mad when he stole the blankets during the winter, giving you endless runny noses the following days. 

Not even when you’d find him sleeping on his stomach, waking at the exact second of him kicking back the blankets to the edge of the bed with his foot. You’d grumble but pull back the covers every single time, tucking him in again – sometimes giving him a little just because you could. Just to feel the silky warmness of his cheek, alive and safe with you. 

But…there were nights when you just couldn’t have it. After long, stressful days at work that had your head feeling like the pressurized cabin of an airplane, feeling the knots in your neck as hard as concrete, you would just long to sleep through the night before enduring it all over again the next day.

One night, the blanket hoarding happened three times. 

Three. Fucking. Times. Waking up freezing because Eddie kept pulling the blanket to his side. 

“Fuck’s sake, Eddie!” You had groaned, making sure he heard as you yanked them back to you.

Your heart balled up into a fist when you felt him sit up in bed and put a tentative hand on your back but you flinched and scoffed with annoyance.

He slept facing away from you then, not even touching his butt to yours. You had felt like the worst person alive, but you’d just been at your limit and snapped. So guilty for being harsh that you hadn’t even been able to fall back asleep in the end. The morning after had been a little awkward, with the two of you walking on eggshells as Eddie cooked breakfast – his own little way of apologizing. 

He needn’t at all. Hoarding blankets in his sleep wasn’t something he could control, you knew that. He was only human. Flawed and filled with quirks that made him who he was. You loved him for it, loved him with everything you had – despite him annoying you sometimes, despite your silly pet peeves.

But that was the thing. Love was about learning to live with Eddie and the package he came with – appreciating his humanity, in all its flawed perfection. Eddie never complains when you hoard the hot water in the shower or get a little grumpy when things don’t go your way on the first try. Not when you scrunch your nose if he cooks a meal using a certain ingredient you don’t like that he's pushing you to try, not when you occupy more space in your shared closet.

You’re human too. 

That’s why you can’t help but break sometimes without meaning to. And last night had been one of those times. The blanket hoarding just got to you again because you hadn’t slept a wink the previous night, longing to make up for it as soon as you got home, but no. 

Now, as you watch him from the bathroom door, you feel your heart slumping within your chest once again, just as he stits up. The dim light casts long shadows beneath his eyelashes that make his gaze appear sadder. 

“Hey…” he mumbles, voice still deep and groggy with sleep as he weakly pats the mattress. “Babe, I’m so sorry…I don’t even realize –” 

“ – No, no, I know, baby, I know.” You rub your hands on your face trying not to cry with frustration – not with Eddie but with yourself.  “I was just exhausted. I’m sorry.” 

“I know. C’mere…”  He pats the mattress again, with a tender smile as he pulls back the blankets and lays on his back with his arms outstretched to you. He pulls you in like a magnet, without any protest as you fall into his arms and he envelops you whole. 

Sighing contently, the stress leaves your body so fast that you wonder what kind of magic lies in Eddie's arms. His presence surrounding you makes you forget why you were even stressed in the first place. His chest is so cozy. His heartbeat underneath your ear is a gentle reminder of that imperfect humanity, as the beats switch from rapid to a steady lull once he’s certain you’re not mad anymore. You kiss that heartbeat, lingering for a moment to inhale that sleepy musk of his that’s become the scent of home. 

“I’m gonna be late for work…” you mumble against him after what seems like hours, feeling your heavy-lidded eyes aching to close.

“Call in sick…” his voice is soft and muffled against the crown of your head while he caresses the nape of your neck. 

“Can’t. Already did last week, remember?” 

He grumbles, but you can feel that teasing smile of his curling against your forehead, just as he pulls up the covers further up your shoulders, luring you away from the call of another stressful workday, and into the indulgent leisure that lies with him.

“Then call and tell them you had a flat tire or some shit. Come on…sleep in just a little bit. Or, tell ‘em I’m sick and you have to take care of me – I’ll take the blame for ya. Only fair.”  

You raise your head to look at him, caressing his cheek with the back of your knuckles as you shake your head fondly.

Fucking Eddie. 

How can you resist him, when his dimples look even cuter when there’s mischief hiding behind them? Just one look at those big doe eyes and you don’t need any more persuading. He'd get you to pull down the moon by a mere flutter of his perfect eyelashes.

Your head falls back into his chest and he tightens his embrace around you. “Come on, sweetheart… I’ll hold you the entire time.” 

You don’t even register what he says for your drowsy eyes are already falling shut, blanketed by the soft caress of Eddie's plush lips against your eyelids. Faintly you can hear Eddie’s light snores, and feel a little puddle of drool forming on his t-shirt where you rest your face as your breathing deepens.  

Maybe this is why he hoards all the blankets, you muse unconsciously as you drift to sleep. He steals all their warmth for moments like this when it's his arms that wrap you up and keep you safe.

tag list: @arcielee

[demonicbaby666]

Nap Time

one shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: BAU family x Reader

Genre: drabble/office fun

Words: 651

A/N- I legit hate the title for this but my brain is not working and I cannot think of anything else. Anyways enjoy!

It was already 7pm and you still had work to do, knowing exhaustion was already subduing your body you decided the best course of action would be to take a nap in your secret napping area. You were certain no one knew you’d often creep under your desk during long workdays and sneak in a little rest bite. You did a quick scan of the room to check if anyone could see you before ducking under your desk and draping a shawl over you. 

Setting a timer for 30 minutes, you let sleep steadily wash over your body, curled up nice and secure in your napping nook. When your eyes fluttered open, it was not by your alarm going off, the absence of the sound was reassuring as you had yet to feel fully rejuvenated. Though your head perked up when there was a flash right before your eyes and you squinted at the assaulting bright light. 

Laughing in front on you was Morgan holding up his phone, your chair was pushed to the side and realisation dawned on you that you had been discovered. The moment Morgan saw you becoming alert, he went into action mode and tried to run off. You grabbed his ankle trying to hoist yourself up and simultaneously stop him from running off with the embarrassing evidence he had just obtained. Hitting your head on the desk you still manged to trip Morgan, but he was quick on his feet to recover and threw his phone to Rossi unexpectedly.

When he looked at the phone and back to your disgruntled state a burst of laughter erupted from his lips. “Now that’s a keeper. Look you can see the pool of dribble!” He teased.

“Rossi delete that!” You called out, finally emerging fully from the once peaceful sanctuary of your desk. You power walked over to the older man trying to reach for the pesky device in his hand, but he didn’t give you the opportunity to grab the phone as he threw it to Emily. Who in turn bit her bottom lip trying not to laugh, her attempt was very unsuccessful. 

With the phone seeming to continuously be out of reach you felt like you were prey in a den of lions, they had you playing a game of cat and mouse. You darted from agent to agent, losing more and more of your dignity as they all beheld the image of you sleeping peacefully. 

“Reid come on!” you shouted as the phone was once again thrown, this time to JJ. Out of everyone in the team you believed JJ was the most sensible and considerate. So, what came next was a complete shock.

“I’m sorry.” She said with a tight-lipped smile looking sympathetically at you. Everyone’s phone in the office dinged and you threw her head back in frustration. Guess there was no more desk naps for you.

“I hate you guys.” you huffed, pulling out your own phone to look at the monstrous photo you’d yet to have the privilege of seeing. 

Beyond pissed off you made your way to JJ and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to get you back for this later. Sleep with one eye open you beautiful monster.” A chill ran down the blonde’s spine and when she turned to look at you wide eyed you couldn’t help but cackle at the fear plastered on her face.

Yanking the phone from her hand, you walked over and shoved it into Morgan’s chest, “You’re going to pay for this baldy. Big time.” 

Morgan burst out laughing and pulled you in, draping his arm around your shoulder, he ruffled your hair, “Whatever you say tiny.” 

When you sat back at your desk Hotch appeared above you sporting his signature smirk, “Good nap?”

Your reply came in the form of a groan as you defeatedly smacked your head against the desk. 

[sprinkler-ashes]

gold rush // aaron hotchner x reader

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

description: in which aaron hotchner hates social media – unless it’s yours. inspired by gold rush by taylor swift.

words: 2.2k

warnings: hotch is down bad, curse words, a bit of pining and jealousy

a/n: i love the idea of the bau being active on social media + hotch having no idea what any online terms mean lmao anyways i just really like this little fic. happy reading!!

i don’t like slow motion, double vision in rose blush

i don't like that falling feels like flying ‘til the bone crush

everybody wants you

but i don’t like a gold rush

Aaron Hotchner is not a fan of social media.

Maybe it’s because of his job. He knows that posting too much information online could sometimes lead to bad situations because there are always people lurking – it’s impossible to know who, exactly, is watching online. Or maybe it’s because he simply didn’t grow up with it. It didn’t really matter – he just knows he does not like using it.

Penelope had shown him quite a bit of Twitter after several BAU cases started trending while the cases were actively going on, even somehow agreeing to let her set him up an account. Aaron didn’t really want an account, but it was almost impossible to say no to Penelope Garcia who Aaron genuinely liked a lot.

Facebook was another one that he had. He didn’t even have a profile picture and only harbored a small amount of friends – entirely family. The site was strictly used to keep up with Jessica since she was an avid Facebook user. If he couldn’t get a hold of her through her phone, he would send her a message on Facebook’s messaging platform, Messenger. She typically responded that way.

The last social media account Aaron had was a new one. Or, well, new-ish. It had just been created a little over a month ago. He didn’t want the account, but Penelope wasn’t the one who asked him to get an account that time.

It was you. And saying no to you was even harder than saying no to Penelope.

A group photo was taken at Rossi’s last month during a get-together after finishing a case. Penelope went straight to Instagram to post it, tagging everyone except Aaron who wasn’t shy to say he didn’t have an account. He was the only one – even Rossi had made an account.

“You’re not on Instagram?” You’d asked Aaron only moments after that.

He shook his head. “I don’t really use social media.”

You frowned like you were in deep thought before turning to him again with a smile. “We should change that.”

All it took was a good minute, maybe even less than that, and one of your signature smiles to convince him to let you help him create an Instagram profile.

He accumulated a small amount of followers since then, which he had to approve, of course, as Aaron made sure his account was set to private – mainly family, some friends, and the team. However, that was as far as it went. He was still figuring out the app, but completely forgot about his new account due to his busy life.

Except for now.

It’s a slow Friday at work – mainly just a day spent catching up on paperwork – and Aaron never really complains on days like this. Yes, it’s usually boring, but having a day without a case means he actually gets to see his son at the end of the day, so it’s a win for him.

But a slow day creates boredom, especially when he’s actually ahead on paperwork. Aaron can’t recall the last time he was this bored at work – probably because he usually has something to do – but when his eyes ghost over the time on his expensive watch, he has to resist letting out a sigh of agitation because, somehow, there are still four more hours left in the workday.

Aaron puts the pen he’s holding down and moves the file he’s in the process of reviewing. He grabs his phone from one of the drawers in his desk and turns it on. The lock screen, which is his favorite photo of Jack, lights up before he enters his passcode.

He does errand-like things at first, including responding to a couple of texts, checking his personal email, and even spending a minute, or five, on Twitter, not that he would ever admit that to Penelope.

Eyeing the colorful app with a white outline of a camera, he hesitantly opens Instagram, still not really used to it considering it’s been over a month since the last time he was on it. He waits a second for it to load up until a photo appears on his feed from JJ, who posted a picture of Henry and Will before she left for work.

jj_jareau: My two favorite guys <3

Aaron knows that the symbol on the end of her caption is supposed to represent a heart because you often send the same symbol in the BAU group chat. He’s not sure why you never use actual emoticons – he’s never asked you – but he associates the symbol with you.

Not that he’s associating hearts with you specifically. Or overanalyzing all your texts in the group chat. Of course not, it’s just because you use it often. That’s all.

When Aaron tries to scroll, he accidentally presses on your username that was showing up in the preview of the comments, sending him straight to your own Instagram page.

He’s about to click the back arrow above your profile picture that he’s assuming will take him back to his feed, but Aaron can’t stop himself from glancing over your profile. Your page is filled with photos from moments in your life that go back years.

Looking up from his phone, he can see you from his chair as the blinds in his office are currently open. You’re chatting with Spencer who’s sitting across from you, a smile on your face as you continuously glance from him and back over to your computer screen where you’re typing, making sure Spencer knows you’re still listening to whatever bizarre fact he’s probably ranting about.

Aaron looks back down to his phone. He’s never been on your page, nor have your posts ever shown up on his feed during the rare times he’s actively gone on the app. It almost feels too personal – like he’s not supposed to see the side of you he doesn’t work with.

He carefully presses on the last post you made. It’s a post from only one day ago, but you’re not in any of the seven photos you’ve posted, which makes him frown with a tinge of disappointment.

Your caption reads, September photo dump, with a couple emoticons.

Wondering what the hell a photo dump is, Aaron looks through the set of pictures again. Everything is random. They range from a sunset to a picture of a meal you must’ve eaten at some point during the month of September, which just passed, and even one of Emily’s cat.

He scrolls down to the next post from three days ago. This time, you’ve only posted one picture and luckily for him, you’re actually in it.

You’re sitting at a dinner table, head resting gently on your hand with a sweet smile while your other hand is gently holding a glass of what – Aaron brings the phone closer to his face without knowing he can actually just zoom in – appears to be champagne.

It only takes him a few seconds after admiring how you look in the photo to wonder about who’s on the other side of it.

Aaron doesn’t know who took the photo and is getting to see you smile like that, but he does know that he wishes it was him because you’re just so damn pretty.

The man is pretty sure he would quite literally melt down to the ground if you looked at him like that.

He’s attempting to push these thoughts to the back of his head as he prepares to scroll to the next post. Aaron is well aware of the fact he shouldn’t be thinking about you in any way that isn’t strictly platonic. He is your boss and even aside from that, the two of you are not only co-workers, but friends.

Friends, he reminds himself. That’s all.

But as he scrolls to the next post, every thought of friendship leaves his body.

It’s a photo taken with the flash on from exactly a week ago, last Friday night, of you, Emily, JJ, and Penelope in what appears to be a club that Aaron can’t say recognizes. You’re standing on the end, your arm snaked around Emily’s waist with your body turned towards the camera while mid-laugh.

The black dress you’re wearing hugs every inch of your body perfectly – you’re showing more skin in the photo than Aaron has ever seen out of you. He’s seen you dressed up before – even seen you in person at clubs himself – but nothing like this before. Ever.

Much needed girls’ night out, your caption says.

Aaron’s not even sure he’s still breathing when he swipes to the second, and last, picture in the post.

This time, it’s only you. You’re still in the same dress, looking at the camera with a sultry smile. You’re not in the club this time. Aaron can’t tell where you are, but that doesn’t really matter because you’re looking straight at the camera with one of the most attractive looks he’s ever seen – it almost feels like you’re looking directly at him.

prentiss_emily: Baddest bitch in the bureau

yourusername: @ emily_prentiss Only behind you ofc

Though he knows she means it in an endearing way, Aaron doesn’t want to call you a bitch, but Emily’s comment on your post technically isn’t a lie. Unfortunately, he also can't seem to figure out what "ofc" means.

A part of him feels guilty. He knows he can’t have you, yet he’s going through your Instagram right now imagining a thousand what-if scenarios, a tinge of jealousy running through his veins at the idea of you ever looking at anyone the way you’re looking at the camera in your photos.

Aaron spends so much time trying to convince himself he doesn’t feel the way he does for you because there are so many reasons why he shouldn’t have the feelings he does. He can’t think of a scenario where you can be his nor can he think of a world in which you feel the same.

So, after he looks at this photo for another couple of seconds, he’s finally going to close out the app and forget about the way you look in that dress.

He can’t get the chance to do that because the door to his office is opening abruptly, startling him to the point where he drops his phone onto his desk.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, hands fumbling to lock his phone so your Instagram will go away.

There you are, mouth open to say something until you notice him fumbling with his phone.

A sheepish look appears on your face. “Sorry, I forgot to knock.”

“It’s fine,” he says, hoping his voice is even and doesn’t scream: Hello, I just looked through your Instagram. “What do you need?” He lays his phone down – it’s finally locked – and looks up at you, trying to appear like he was actually doing something.

“Oh, I don’t need anything. Reid and I are going to try that new place that just opened up down the street for lunch. I was wondering if you wanted me to grab you something.”

“Do you have a menu?” He asks.

“Yeah, give me a second. I’ll text it to you,” you tell him.

You’re pulling your phone out of the pocket of your pants and if Aaron had been paying attention and not pretending like he was working, he would’ve seen the way you glanced up at him, back to your phone, then back to him, a giddy smile on your face.

You do as you told him you would and send him the menu. “Take your time looking over it. Just text me what you want within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks. I’ll look over it in a minute.”

Aaron really does go back to work this time, his hands moving to pick up the file he moved earlier. He hears the door open and assumes you’re on your way out of the door, but you don’t leave yet.

“Oh! Before I go,” you say, your body out the door and your hand lingering on the outside knob of his office door. He looks up at you, pen in hand. “Thanks for the like on Instagram.”

Aaron thinks his heart has stopped upon hearing those words. Before he can even say anything, you shut the door, and you’re making your way back to where Spencer is still sitting.

He swallows hard, closes the file, and sets it away once again. His fingers frantically type in his passcode, and Instagram immediately pops up, still open from when he tried to turn his phone off.

To Aaron’s horror, he sees the Instagram heart that’s used to like photos filled with red and seemingly glaring at him. It was too late to unlike it now. You’d obviously already gotten the notification.

Meanwhile, as Aaron is mentally panicking, you’re whipping out your phone again to send another text. This time to Emily who is currently in a meeting.

I will never doubt you again – Operation post-a-thirst-trap worked!

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Hiiii, Cyprus ❤️ Did you like my surprise? I trashed your apartment since you never seem to leave mine! I'm not mean like you though, so I left all the pieces of your now broken phone at the bottom of this note. Also I pissed all over your mattress <3 You cant keep fucking with me and expect me to take it, right? Anyways, suck a fat one and see you at work on Monday, babygirl!!

[Author's note: Cyprus doesn't like going to your apartment. He prefers it if you stay at his, hence the stealing and manipulating to get you to come over to his place. Canonically, he wouldn't leave you alone at his place either.]

Tw: afab reader, cyprus being a dick

Your heart was pumping when you arrived at the office on Monday. Ready for a confrontation with Cyprus. All the worst-case scenarios ran through your mind and you hoped he would lash out at you publicly, getting himself fired in the process.

Only to find out that he isn't coming in today, he pulled one of his emergency leaves. The office was asking you what happened to him since it was already established very well that you're his girl. You said you had no idea, which made them probe you even more. As they didn't believe you.

That was... Anti-climatic. You're somewhat relieved yet tensed because you know something is about to happen yet you don't know when or what. You're not receiving any calls, or text messages from him either (as expected, you mangled his phone), not even an email that he could have sent through his laptop.

The workday went by uneventfully, save for your nosy coworkers pestering you for more details about Cyprus's absence during lunch and punch-out time. To your surprise and many of your colleagues too, Cyprus wasn't there to pick you up, you truly had no idea what had happened to him. It was complete radio silence from the hothead. Very uncharacteristic of him, you thought he would fly off the handles at your offences.

Maybe he gave up. You're too much trouble than what you're worth.

You grinned, thinking that you're one step closer to freedom from that man, you will have to figure out how to deal with the animosity that will inevitably arrive when he comes back to work. You knew Cyprus was vengeful, he's going to do something to fuck up your career as revenge.

You said your goodbyes to your coworkers as you head back home. The trip was also nothing out of the ordinary, it's just like how it was before accidentally snaring Cyprus's fiery heart.

However, when you arrived back to your apartment, your landlord, a few other tenants, a group of cleaners and a pair of plumbers coming in and out of the lobby was waiting there for you.

You asked what was going on.

The tenants seems distressed, they were too busy chatting amongst themselves or on phone calls. The only person who's willing to fill you in is your landlord, who doesn't look too thrilled to see you either.

He said he would want to talk to you outside. You obliged and follow him to the entrance, where the both of you are illuminated by the door lights and street lamps.

"There was a clog that caused the toilets in a handful of units to flood." He said.

You were worried, thinking that you're one of the affected too. You asked if you could check your room out too, but your landlord only stopped you there.

"We are doing what we can to settle the situation. However, I must talk to you about the cause of it." He pulled his phone out and opened his photo galleries.

"It came from your apartment. You flushed something down that you weren't supposed to." Your eyes landed on a picture, showing you a rusted, dirty water pipe, gaping on one end and what seemed like a soaked, crumpled period pad. You don't think it was even originally used, you're not even on your period. How did it-

"I will be charging your account for the repairs." Your landlord told you.

You tried defending yourself, saying that you didn't do it. You accused Cyprus of trespassing and causing the clog because you and he had a "fight".

He shook his head. "I wanted to believe that too, because I never expected you to be this reckless. I checked the surveillance cameras, no one entered your room other than yourself."

You tried to desperately fight your case, you do not want to pay for damages you didn't do! You knew Cyprus is behind this somehow, but you couldn't prove it. Frustrating as it is, you couldn't do anything except to bite the bullet.

Your landlord excused himself to handle the situation at hand, leaving you alone to think about what had happened alone. Outside, with the darkness surrounding you.

You sighed and frowned. Maybe you should call your mom, dad, sibling or online friend to rant about your day. You were too immersed in your thoughts and misery that you didn't realize a certain sedan car has been circling around the block a few times now. Still, not aware of your surroundings, you pulled your phone out.

But you got distracted by the icon of your favourite social media application. You ended up launching that instead of calling someone for advice or help. You had to pacify yourself and what better way than to use mind-numbing brain junkfood?

However, during mid-scroll, your precious device was yanked away from your hands by none other than Cyprus.

But before you can even inhale a complete gasp, the deafening sounds of your lifeline shattering reached your ears first. Followed by successive crunching of your already abused phone under his heavy, combat boots.

You stared at it slack jaw as he continued grinding his heel against the pieces out of pure spite.

"I read your little note." He gruffed, continuing to destroy whatever is left of your gadget. "I was fucking pissed." He continued, glaring at you as he fits in a couple more stomps.

"But now, we're even." He pulled something out from his pocket and pelted it at you. It isn't heavy, you thought he threw the crumpled note itself at you since it looked thin, paper like and light.

Only when you took a closer look, your face paled in horror.

It's an empty menstrual pad wrapper.

"Come on, princess." He clamped his hand around your wrist, dragging you along with him. "We're going out for dinner. I don't feel like cooking today."

You wrenched your hand away from him and said you didn't want to see him. He disregarded that with a click of the tongue and a roll of the eyes.

"You know, you really can be a handful sometimes." He grabbed your hand again. "I'm not mad anymore, okay? You learned your lesson; I won't be fucking your shit up as long as you leave mine alone. I'll be paying for the damages and I'll get you a new phone after dinner. Now, let's go. I'm hungry and I bet you are too."

You still resisted him, planting your feet firmly on the ground and trying to tug your hand away from his iron grip. You said you're tired, you just want to be in your room.

He scoffed. "Trust me, you do not want to go in there. I took everything important, you should have no problem staying over at my place. The sheets are freshly washed and I deep cleaned my mattress just for my angel girl who could do no wrong." Heavy sarcasm was dripping from his words at the end of his sentence.

You still put up a fight, which thinned his patience.

A yelp escaped your lips when he suddenly groped your ass. His grip was firm, a bit too firm that it hurts a bit. Wincing, you unintentionally loosened your posture, allowing Cyprus to whisk you off your feet and draped you over his shoulder. You made a fuss, kicking and hitting him but he was like a mountain made of steel and concrete- nothing fazes him.

"Stop squirming, you fucking brat. Or I'll bite you." He growled, walking towards his car and tightening his hold on your legs, you're trying your best to kick him in the head. It was already hard having your upper body dangle off his back shoulder.

Of course, feeling the sting of humiliation, you didn't stop. You kept struggling against the much stronger man, hoping that he would either give up or drop you.

But to your surprise, you felt a sharp pressure on the side of your ass cheek. Shouting in pain, you realized that Cyprus held his word and sunk his teeth into your soft flesh. That was effective in stunning you in place, the scream dying down in your throat and you ceased your flailing.

"I warned you, pretty girl." He unlocked his car door with his key fob. You sighed, this is going to be a long week.

[pocketramblr]

AU with bio dad all might where Inko dies during child birth and because of how busy he is in hunting down AFO, along with the safety concerns. All Might gives temporary custody of Izuku to Gran.

1- Toshinori is crushed. He might have been able to suggest Inko take Izuku and hide, but he can't stand to send their baby away alone with nothing, no way of knowing if it's actually safer, nada. Gran thought he might, but when he enters the room and sees how Toshinori is holding the newborn, he knows he won't. Toshinori kisses Izuku's forehead and says he's going to be staying with his grandfather for a bit, but his dad will be back as soon as he can.

2- Toshinori doesn't visit. He didn't go to Gran's house before, not since the day after graduation when he left for the airport, and he won't do it now that AfO could be watching. But he does call. Izuku knows the sound of his father's voice over the phone, knows Gran calls him 'Toshinori', knows there is something he has to do before he can return. When he's little, he imagines a hero, then an astronaut, then a vigilante, then an important businessman, then a researcher. His dad doesn't talk much about his job, always sounds so tired by it, always so eager to hear about his days instead, or maybe tell him about his mom.

3- After the potato smashing, Gran leaves Izuku in the care of a neighbor (she delivers groceries when he's too tired to walk and get some, and her son's a hero Izuku adores, he'll be safe with both of them for a couple hours) and goes to the hospital as Sir and Toshi argue about retirement. He reminds Toshinori that the custody was supposed to be temporary. Sir asks what he's talking about and gets kicked out of the ward. "You weren't arguing back about it as strongly as I thought you would. You lose your stubbornness too?" Gran asks. Toshi sighs, leans his head against the wall, and admits that he wants so badly to go to Gran's, grab Izuku, and vanish for a decade, make up for lost time. But he can't give up on saving people. But he wants so badly to have his family, its all that's been pushing him through years of twenty hour workdays. But people could die, would die, if he did that.

Gran hums, and says Izuku'll be so thrilled to finally see his dad in person. Almost as excited as he'll be to find out his dad is All Might.

Then he hands Toshinori two tickets to I-island, and leaves for his own vacation. (being a single parent is hard)

4- Toshi meets Izuku, and explains on the plane who he is and why he was gone for years- a very brief overview of it, anyway. Izuku keeps pinching himself. Toshi cries in David's arms for a while. Izuku and Melissa hit it off. Izuku asks if he can be a quirkless hero, and Toshi, getting David's pointed looks, says maybe, but he'll have to practice a lot. It really is like a dream, and when its time to go back, Izuku almost asks if they can stay- instead he says 'come back' and Toshi agrees they'll visit, wonders if Izuku will want to attend the academy there for high school, but Izuku wants to be a hero. On their return, Toshi, Gran, and Izuku have to resettle awkwardly around each other, but manage. Toshi brought back support equipment Dave made him, similar to what helped him in college manage his power. He cuts back on hours too, and the HPSC assumes its all because of his injuries.

5- While the rule has been changed to allow it for a couple of years, Izuku is the first quirkless student admitted to the UA Hero Course. No one else from his middle school got in, so its all alone and making new friends, but he manages. He's exited. His dad and grandpa are exited.

Then, during lunch a few days into the school year, Izuku gets a call. It's weird in the middle of the day, but he picks up- "Hey dad, what's up?"

It is not his father's voice that responds. "Huh, 'dad'?"

Izuku freezes, unsure who this scratchy, younger voice could be. Uraraka asks him if he's ok. He hangs up, breathing faster, and calls Gran. - "Someone got dad's phone and i answered and-" / "Hold on kid, let me see if he just forgot it at his desk and- shit there's been a break in at the tower. Izuku, go to Nedzu's office right now and stay there. One of us will call him, don't answer your phone to anyone. Go."

[baekuras]

I really wanna just have a small notebook to use on travels so I can comfortably draw and watch videos etc (i dont fully vibe w/ tablets and touch only tbh) but just the prices basically starting at 200 for a small piece of nothing is RIDICULOUS to me Like I can buy a full-sized laptop for that easily which can do more, I can build a PC for that Yeah neither are as light or portable but this is exactly my problem Portability is not worth 200bucks to me I’d rather carry my heavier laptop around then and have backed everything up beforehand

[bbyseok]

today, tonight, tomorrow

pairing: dabi/todoroki touya x reader

cw: touya just needs some love, redeemed dabi au, pro hero reader, gender neutral reader but dabi does call reader pet names like “doll” and “gorgeous” here, housewife dabi if you squint, some swearing, i go into detail way too much but he makes me soft, suggestiveness from dabi obviously, tiny bit of angst if you squint again, but overall mostly fluff

analysis: despite his troubled past and what it holds over his head, you show touya that he has a future with you. that he has today, tonight, and tomorrow.

a/n: a gift for my bestie <3

———

touya isn’t used to going outside in broad daylight. frankly, he doesn’t like it either. he doesn’t like going out at all, actually.

eyes that cast sharp glances at him, whether accusatory or simply curious, whether they knew of his past deeds or were simply taking in his appearance—it’s something he decided he’d do his best to avoid.

and when he does venture out into the outside world that was not your living room, he likes to adorn hoodies or long sleeved shirts. he stays rather close to your side, hand grasping yours or lingering over your shoulder. he tends to whisper into your ear lowly when he wants to tell you something. you might even get a kiss or two on your cheek—but he limits the amount of attention you two might attract when out in public.

touya is just like that.

but you wouldn’t have it any other way. it’s what makes touya, touya obviously. his preferences and details are the things that you adore. simply because you aren’t too sure of the last time someone’s been so.. considerate for him.

so you buy oversized hoodies for him to fit into, you hold his hand a little tighter than you need to for subtle reassurance, you tilt your head his way when you see him lean in. you sneak in your own kiss after his lips brush your cheek delicately, satisfied with the slight crinkle of his eyes that show when he smiles a small smile at your action. it’s the little things.

you’re okay with the little things. but sometimes, you wanna make sure that he knows. that he knows that you’re okay with everything, that he’s cherished, that he has a place with you.

touya doesn’t like going outside. but you think you can come up with something.

————

your career as a pro hero means long days and nights. either tough hours out in the field not knowing what danger you could be going in, or even tougher hours of drilling through mountains of paperwork.

you’re grateful that you can be a pro hero, of course—but weekends? oh, weekends are paradise.

it’s a late morning. the dainty sunlight coming in through the window is growing steadily but it’s fine—weekends meant sleeping in. scarred knuckles caress the round of your cheek. right. weekends also meant sleeping in with your white-haired boyfriend. (did i say weekends are paradise? scratch that, i meant heaven.)

you open your eyes the tiniest bit to find him propped up against the pillows on the headboard, his knuckles still against your skin as he watches you rise from your slumber. normally, you’d tease him for being a creep, but you can see the subtle awe in his features.

“i’m not dreaming, am i?” he mumbles to himself. like he doesn’t believe you’re real.

your heart swells and you lazily open your eyes all the way, meeting his soft gaze. “good morning to you too, love.” the words aren’t above a whisper, trying not to startle him.

his hand stutters against your face anyway, and he blinks in temporary surprise. he seems a little embarrassed that you heard him but he brushes it off easily.

you shift and a small shiver runs down your spine at the sound of touya’s voice. “good morning, gorgeous.” it’s rough on a daily basis, but in the morning? it’s almost enough to make you stay in bed during your workdays.

you reach up and grab his hand still tracing figures over your cheek, brushing your lips against the rough skin there. “breakfast?” you propose, trying to stifle your giggles as he shifts back down to lay with you.

“later,” he huffs, turning and cradling you close as he buries his nose into your neck. his hair tickles your chin but you don’t really mind.

like this, you let touya know he has today with you.

————

after a long, grueling day of hero work, seeing a certain blue-eyed man standing at the kitchen counter with the takeout you asked him to order during the way home, you’re pretty sure you’d be happy to have such a sight every day.

(he can’t cook for shit—he’s also not allowed to cook. he had tried being funny one time when you were actually trying to conceive a meal.. and ended up almost exploding the stove and burning the entire kitchen down. there’s an unestablished rule of ordering takeout when it’s his turn to bring food to the table ever since.)

“touya,” you hum in greeting, instinctively grinning once you meet his cobalt gaze. he’s already heading around the kitchen counter towards you with a grin that can match you own plastered onto his face.

you had showered and changed back into your civvies at your agency—with the recent chill in the air, you have to start bringing heavy jackets or coats out now to work. before you can shrug it off though, his rough hands are doing it for you. he presses a kiss on your forehead, murmuring a, “welcome home, doll,” against the skin there.

you sigh. it’s definitely a welcomed contrast from the your labor of the day—hero work by no means is an easy and smooth job. but touya softens the day with his tender touches. your coat slips off your shoulders and he throws it over the back of one of the dining table chairs before he’s dragging you to the kitchen.

“was about to call you, y’know,” he informs in an amused huff, teasing and all, but you’re not really listening. his fingers feel really nice in yours. “you were taking too long to get home. i might’ve eaten all the food by myself.”

when he sits you down at one of the stools, you answer as you rummage through the small selection of food, “you probably should, you scrawny ass.” (you’re kidding. mostly.)

he throws a napkin at you.

as you break out into a fit of giggles and apologies, you’re unaware of the fond smile he throws you. before you dig into your meal, you clear your throat and glance at him. “but really, how was your day, love? did the takeout dude give you any trouble?” (it doesn’t happen too often nowadays, where the person delivering food gives your boyfriend a hard time. but when it does, you’re sure to give the manager an earful.)

“my day was fine,” touya hums in response, also beginning to eat. “real boring without you, doll. as per usual.” he then quirks a brow at you, a hint of a smirk toying at his lips. “i definitely could be doing more fun things with you around.”

you can feel your cheeks heat up and you nearly choke—even though you should be used to his innuendos, you’re not. still, you see it fit to deadpan him once you swallow down your bite. (you’re trying to eat, dammit!) “you did not just say that while i’m shoving food into my mouth.”

he snorts loudly at that and when he opens his mouth to say something, most definitely another innuendo sprouting from your words, it’s your turn to throw a napkin at him.

this time, he laughs. (people laugh—it’s a normal thing part of life. but when touya laughs? it’s special, because usually you’re the only one who gets to hear it.) “alright, alright, doll,” he relents, chuckling roughly, “‘m eating.”

you huff in amusement. “you better, you twig.”

he lunges for you and you scream, unable to escape his grasp as his slender fingers dig into your sides in a sudden attack of tickling. his raspy tone takes on another delighted laugh and dinner is almost forgotten. (it might’ve been because the tickling led to a makeout session, but dinner is almost forgotten all the same.)

like this, you let touya know he has tonight with you.

————

you wake touya in the dead of night.

he’s all low grumbles and mutters as you stir him from his slumber. “touya, love,” you coo at him, brushing the white tufts of hair from his drooping, barely open eyes, “i wanna show you something.”

he peels an eye open to peer at you, albeit sleepily. “yeah?” he shifts, fumbling for one of your phones that had ended up on one side of the bed. when he checks the time, he grunts and stares at you with a questioning look. “you wanna show me something?” he pauses and double checks. “..at 2 am?”

when he sees you nod seriously, he blinks. “fine.”

after making sure both you and him are bundled up—it’s cold out there—you lead him outside and into the car. it’s not a long drive, and he surprisingly doesn’t ask too many questions along the way.

you pull into the parking lot and it’s no doubt that you’re in a park—there’s fields, a bike trail or two on the side, and a playground set not too far off in the distance. still, you pester him to be patient once you’re out of the car.

“y’know, i’ve done my fair share of shady things in my life, doll, but i didn’t think i’d be this much of an influence on you,” he snickers as you grab his hand and start dragging him along one of the paths.

you roll your eyes and scoff but find yourself grinning at his comment. “oh, hush you. i’m no lawbreaker.”

touya clicks his tongue. “yet.”

your laughter carries out on the slight night breeze, and he thinks it’s perfect. he doesn’t know exactly where you’re leading him but if he gets to hear you laugh like that, he thinks you can lead him anywhere.

by the time you’re halfway up the trail, it’s cresting over a hill. nothing too small nor big, but once you reach the top, you can see the majority of the park. however, that’s not what you want him to look at.

“look, touya,” you breathe, puffs of air coming out before you because of how cold it is. “i came across this spot during one of my night shifts but.. the sky looks so nice from here. the stars are so pretty.”

he follows your gaze to see the night canvas. the stars are simply shimmering dots that wink down on you both, with the moon and its silver lighting completing the picture. and then he glances back at you.

“yeah,” he agrees softly, his fingers flexing in yours. “they are.”

touya doesn’t like going outside in broad daylight. but in the moonlight—its paleness engulfs you and you look as if you’re an ethereal being. like you hold the light of the world in your hands. and he thinks to himself, that maybe he can start liking going outside, if it means seeing the stars in your eyes.

like this, you let touya know he has tomorrow with you.