#check it out and hopefully you'll take part of it

[heich0e]

bringing keigo to dinner to meet your family and he's warm and gregarious and chatty like a talk show host and he hates every single minute of it

[yeyinde]

stalker!Simon decides to have a little fun with his favourite camgirl.

the message comes up halfway into your "show."

it's a boring night. slow. you wear a lingerie set one of your viewers sent in beneath a silk robe, all in a pretty pastel pink—cliche, but it works; an uncomfortably disgusting version of hair theory unfolding in front of your eyes—and discreetly chug wine when you twist away to grab a new toy. a series of pale pink vibrators, nipple clamps. mundane depravity for what's shaping up to be a lacklustre night.

but the money that pours in from these little shows (adult version of classic party games—hide and seek, would you rather, truth or dare) is one step closer to erasing your debts. student loans. car payments. rent. you smile so wide it aches, and put your best face on when you blink, coquettish and coy, at the camera where nameless, faceless men throw money in a ring for a scrap of your attention.

tonight's game is Simon Says. and it's supposed to be normal. boring.

but a message from a viewer named Simon (in a sea of many who cheekily changed their usernames to match the theme of the game) stands out.

Simon says... go lock your door.

you blink. between all of the Simon Says touch yourself for me baby, pull your shirt down, lemme fuck you for real it sticks out. a change in the routine.

you huff, pouting. "already did that, Simon. c'mon, gimme something else to do, honey."

another one pops up. Simon says... you shouldda got a dog.

your brows furrow. "that's not part of the game, Simon. i'm gonna move on—"

Simon says... open your door.

he's paying you handsomely. dropping coins, large amounts of money, for each message to shoot to the top. little superchats. why he isn't taking advantage of it and paying you to do something sexy, something lewd, unnerves you. your heart starts to race, thudding against your ribs almost painfully.

it's fine, you think. he's just a creep. a loser. "uh huh, not part of the game, Simon. i'm afraid i'm gonna have to cut you off—"

you block him. they don't normally get under your skin like this. ever. at all. even when they throw random names in your dms, hoping one of them happens to be yours, and try to blackmail you to your fake friends and family. it doesn't bother you as much as this. as him. get a dog. how absurd.

the next series of chats pass without the same odd comments. take your bra off, but leave the robe on. act coy, like you don't want to—

creeps, you think, in their own right. but. paying ones. so, you smile. stiff. uncomfortable. grinning so wide it hurts. pretending to ignore the strange unease growing in your guts. your eyes sliding back to the superchats saved in a glowing log. let me in. a troll. whatever. it's nothing. nothing. you'll drink wine after this, scrub your skin raw in the shower and buy yourself something pretty with the money these greasy losers threw your way—

Simon says... let me in.

you feel your heart in your throat. it can't be him. you blocked him. you have mods to keep trolls out of your chats, but wonder—hopefully—if maybe it failed. maybe they found your stream are just being weird. strange. but when you check, the filters are on. he's a registered user. paid the premium to watch you. to get an invite to your special game nights. it makes it worse, you think, that he paid to be here. to do this.

your hand shakes. you block this user, too, ignoring the discomfort churning inside your chest. the fear spiking along the nape of your neck. hair raising. there's a prickle on your skin. the feeling of being watched

no. it's fine. you're fine—

"ah, what else should i do, Simon?" you ask your viewers, pulling on another smile. one that hurts. aches. wobbles around the edges. you'll end the stream in a few minutes. order Thai food. drink yourself stupid. take the day off tomorrow. use this creeps money and waste it. blow it on something stupid. dumb. laugh about it with your friends.

your shoulders dip. the tension easing. you're fine. you're at home. the door—

you locked it. right? you definitely, absolutely, locked it when you brought in the package from the delivery driver. the massive, hulking man who loomed in your doorway, too wide, even, to fit inside, and growled out in a low, brassy timbre: sign 'ere. you took the pen, pretending he wasn't drilling holes into you with his gaze, eyes liquid in the dark. intense. wanting. and then scurried inside—

back pressed against the door, hands wrapped around the lingerie set.

you glance at the chat. "which Simon bought me this cute set? i'd like to thank them personally," you murmur, forcing your shoulders to drop. it's fine. you live in the middle of nowhere. no one is coming to your door.

there's no takers in the chat. you shift on the chair, licking your lips. "it's really cute, Simon. a perfect size, too, and i just—"

something catches your eye in the corner of the monitor. a movement. a slight shift. a whisper of fabric. you tilt your chin, peering into the hazy black reflection.

what you're looking at doesn't make any sense. your bedroom door is open. a curtain of black drapes over the wall where the pale strip of light doesn't reach.

the washroom light is still on, a yellow spill illuminating the hallway, but nothing is there. no one is in the hall. but you know you closed your door. you always do when you stream. your heart trips over itself. leaps to your throat. you almost choke on it—

another bubble pops up. Simon says... hey. uh, who is that guy behind you?

there's a ringing in your ears. your hair stands on end. something moves again. the black mass wasn't a shadow. it moves. takes shape. the covered head nearly reaches your ceiling, body filling the entirely of your room. massive. a mountain you remember thinking. a fucking mountain, you texted your friend. thighs the size of tree trunks—

a hand reaches out, grabs hold of your power bar. thick gloved fingers curling over the button. in the bluegreen glow of your computer screen, a man steps out.

"glad y'liked it, pet." the deep, brassy drawl sends shivers down your spine. you try to scream, mouth opening wide to choke it out, yell for help—

your chat bubbles up, feverish in their excitement. you skin through the messages, stomaching churning as it clicks in your head. their rabidness isn't about saving you, but—

(omg he's gonna fuck her pron??? we're getting pron????? no fucking wayyyyy god i wish it were me—)

this isn't a fucking bit, you morons, you want to howl. call the fucking police—

but he gets there first. two strides. it happens in a blink. the screen goes back and he's on you in seconds.

you're not even sure how someone so big, so heavy, could move that quietly—

"ah-ah, none o'tha' now," his hand curls around your neck, tight. choking. you try to fight but he just huffs, breathing in deep, chest expanding across your spine as his other hand snakes around your waist, trapping you against a corded forearm. he bends down, nuzzles his jaw into your crown. coos:

"Simon says... turn around for me pretty girl, an' be good, now. went through all this trouble t'find you. think i deserve a little reward—"

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When grandparents come to visit, Rose gets spoiled silly, and you and Bradley get an opportunity to spend some time alone. You have doubts about your body, but being around your husband makes you feel as good as you hoped it would.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, messing around, DILF Roo

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You were exhausted, and your breasts hurt. There was so much to do, and Rose wanted to eat constantly. Taking a twenty minute shower felt like a luxury, but your husband insisted on it when you started to cry in the kitchen. 

"Do you want some ginger ale?" he asked, tucking Rose into the baby carrier so she would hopefully fall asleep.

"Yeah," you replied, not really sure why you were crying. Bradley patted your butt and told you to go get in the shower, promising to bring the drink in for you.

While the water warmed up, you got undressed and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your body was like a deflated balloon, and you couldn't stop thinking about how weird you looked. Absolutely nothing was as tight as it used to be, and even your face looked unamused and annoyed. And every time you thought about how much you hated the way your body looked now, you got upset with yourself, because you had a beautiful daughter.

"You didn't get in the shower?"

You had you pull yourself out of your daze to meet Bradley's eyes in the mirror. He was holding a plastic cup, and Rose appeared to have finally fallen asleep. "Oh. I will." 

You were almost embarrassed to have him in the bathroom with you as you scrutinized your new bits of cellulite and stretch marks, but he simply wrapped his free arm around you from behind and whispered, "Take your time. I'm going to put Rose in her crib, and then we can watch a movie or snuggle."

Unshed tears burned at your eyes and your throat as he kissed your bare shoulder. He had to go back to work tomorrow. Your parents were arriving tomorrow night. There were so many things happening all at once, and you were overwhelmed even though you barely had to lift a finger with him taking care of so much.

Bradley's breath was warm on your skin as you shivered, naked in the middle of the room. "I love you, Baby Girl. Get in the shower. You'll feel better."

Somehow, he was right. The steamy water pounded against your skin while you sipped your cold ginger ale, and even the sound echoing off the glass and tile was oddly satisfying. You took a few deep breaths with your eyes closed and didn't move for a couple minutes before you reached for the soap.

You didn't even try to put your own clothing on when you finally walked back into your bedroom. Nothing fit, and you didn't want to have to deal with looking at yourself like that in the mirror again, so you pulled on Bradley's old, stretched out gym shorts and one of his shirts. You felt freshly scrubbed and in a much better mood as you walked down the hallway and poked your head inside Rosie's nursery. She was sprawled out on her back in one of her fuzzy sleepers, and you smiled at Tramp curled up in a circle on the rug. He lifted his head to look at you as you turned toward the living room where you could hear the TV on with the volume low.

"Hi," you whispered, and Bradley lifted the blanket so you could join him on the couch. "You got her down okay?"

He wrapped his muscular arm around you. "I did. Eventually. She started crying the first time I set her down, and then Tramp licked her through the crib which made her cry more. This parenting shit is exhausting."

For the first time in a week, you realized just how tired he looked. Bradley made everything seem so easy right now, and you didn't know how you'd manage while he was at work tomorrow. But he looked like he needed a good night's sleep tonight. 

"Want to watch an episode of Real Housewives?" you asked.

He shrugged and tried not to smile. "Only if you want to." It was shamelessly his favorite show, so you queued up an episode and curled up facing his chest. "Aren't you going to watch it, too?" he chuckled, nodding past you to the TV.

You responded by raking your fingers through his hair, and a second later he was yawning. "I'll watch it in a minute," you lied, and he melted into the scalp massage you gave him. Each soft grunt you elicited from him was followed by him closing his eyes for a few seconds, and as soon as you kissed the scars on his cheek, he was sound asleep. Then your fingers went slack in his hair as you yawned.

The two of you got a solid five hours on the couch before Rose started crying for food.

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

"How's the baby? Can I see a picture?"

Bradley sighed quietly to himself and turned to see Javy pulling on a pair of compression shorts next to him. 

"She's great. Gets a little better at sleeping every night," he replied, scrolling through his photo gallery to show him a picture of Rose in her crib. Everyone and their mother seemed to stop him on his way to the locker room, and it was getting to the point where he was going to be late to the tarmac if everyone didn't shut up.

"Damn! She's adorable," Javy said with a laugh. "Kind of makes me want one."

"That's called 'baby fever'," Bradley said, tucking his phone away so he could pull on his flight suit. "Apparently it's a real thing and highly contagious. Want me to put a stop to it for you?"

"Sure," Javy said smoothly, still laughing until Bradley told him the cost of the fancy daycare on base for a month. "Jesus," the other man gasped. "Never mind."

"Exactly," Bradley muttered, finally zipping up his flight suit when Jake strolled in. 

"How's my goddaughter, Rose Bradshaw?" he asked, loud enough that anyone in a three mile radius would have heard.

"Wait, you made Hangman the godfather?" asked Mickey from the other side of the lockers. "Damn. That's pretty wild."

Bradley took a deep breath and said, "I need to get out on the tarmac to talk to Maverick." 

There was something kind of awful about coming back to work after a week off with just you and the baby, and he realized he was in a shitty mood as he took the long way outside to avoid everyone else. He missed Rose, and he missed making lunch for you. He was getting pretty good at smashing up the nasty avocado stuff and globbing it onto a perfectly toasted slice of overpriced bread. He really felt like he should still be there with you just in case you needed something. 

"There you are," Maverick said, pushing his aviators higher on his nose as Bradley hustled through the hangar. "How's little Rose?"

He wanted to tell his godfather that it was bullshit that he had to be at work when he had an adorable nine day old daughter he could be playing with, but he bit his tongue. "She's great. Thanks for the stuffed animals. The goose and the rooster were a nice touch."

Maverick waved him off. "You don't need to thank me for anything. Let's have a conversation as we walk to the tower." Bradley kept up the same pace with him as he said, "I'm going to need you to stay until six today. I'll give you a shot performing a dog fighting exercise with some of the new arrivals, but you'll need to stay and write up your post lesson notes."

Bradley licked his lips. On one hand, he'd been grabbing onto every little crumb that was offered when it came to teaching on base. If he could spend more time working out of North Island and less time on an aircraft carrier, he would be able to avoid some of the long deployments that made having a wife and child at home feel so impossible. On the other hand, he was supposed to pick your parents up from the airport at six. He didn't want to send you and Rose out in rush hour to get them even though he knew nothing could beat the comfort and safety of the red Bronco.

Hopefully he could get to the airport quickly enough that your parents wouldn't even notice he was running late. He cleared his throat nervously. "Sounds good, Mav. I'll stay until six."

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

By dinnertime, you were in tears. Rose was already crying again. You just finished feeding her. You were trying to figure out how to use the breast pump, but now it was in pieces on the kitchen island. You couldn't even manage to put ten minutes together to make it work properly. Your body looked scary, you forgot to eat lunch, your entire face was breaking out, and now Rose was wailing.

If you couldn't even make it through one day alone with her, how the fuck were you supposed to even be a mom?

"I'm coming," you called out, almost tripping over Tramp on your way back to the nursery. Your breasts were aching, and as soon as she latched on, you couldn't tell if they felt better or worse. You couldn't tell anything. You hadn't slept for more than five consecutive hours in over a week, because Rose was always hungry.

"Please take a nap after this," you whispered. "I need a nap, too." Truthfully, you wanted your parents here just as much as you wanted Bradley. Rose spit up on the kitchen floor earlier, and you kept forgetting to clean it up between her feeding frenzies. You could probably get your dad to do that. And you needed more panty liners from the story which your mom could probably handle. And you needed your husband to make you avocado toast before you withered away into oblivion. 

"We're here!" Bradley called out through the house as you finished changing a wet diaper. You quickly yanked your dirty tank top back over your head, and as soon as you walked out into the living room, you started crying.

And so did your parents as they crowded around you, kissing your cheeks and looking at the baby in your arms.

"It was one thing seeing her over facetime," your mom sobbed, "but she's even more precious in person."

"Hi, Rose. I'm your grandpa," you dad whispered as the baby yawned. "I think she kind of looks like me."

You laughed as you cried, relief flooding through your body as your mom scooped Rose up into her arms, and then Bradley was at your side, kissing your forehead. 

"Did my pretty girls have a good day?" he asked, stroking your cheek with his thumb and smiling at you as if you looked like a fairy princess rather than an unfed, exhausted rat. 

He smelled a bit like jet fuel, and for some reason he was still wearing his flight suit even though he knew you couldn't have sex with him. "It was just really hard," you whispered, looking up at him like you needed him to understand without you having to explain it to him.

Bradley glanced around at the pump parts in the kitchen and the spit up on the floor. He held you a little tighter as he nodded. "It was really hard for me, too. I just wanted to be here to try to make your day easier." Now you were crying in earnest as your mom and dad continued to make a fuss over the baby, but Bradley was already walking you backwards toward the hallway. "I'm sure the grandparents can hold down the fort while we take a little break?"

"Absolutely," your mom replied, kissing Rose's feet while your dad held her. "Take your time."

As soon as you were in the quiet solace of your bedroom, Bradley bent to remove his boots, and then he unzipped his flight suit and left it in a heap on the floor. "I think I'd feel better if we got in bed for a few minutes." You nodded in agreement, climbing into the unmade bed, and a second later, you were wrapped up in his arms under the covers. He sighed as you curled up against his chest. "Yeah. This is what I needed."

It was like night and day for you. As soon as you were with him, everything felt better. More manageable. Like you could handle all of it. Bradley pressed his lips to your temple as you whispered, "I've been waiting for this moment all day."

"God, I fucking love you, Baby Girl."

You laughed in response, but you weren't joking. "I'm so serious, Roo. I was overwhelmed, and I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. And Rose is just hungry all day and all night, and I can barely keep up."

His big hand slid up and down your arm, soothing away your stress as he murmured, "Well, you make it look easy, Sweetheart. Best mom in the world. As soon as I get my fill of you, I'll make you dinner."

You let his words sink in as you got your breathing under control. Then you finally lifted your head from his chest and kissed him. "I think I'll be okay."

Bradley sat up with you in his lap. "Let's eat something, and then we can feed Rose and get right back in bed. I'll bet I can get your dad to walk Tramp."

The two of you had only been in your bedroom for about twenty minutes, but when you walked back out into the kitchen, it was like a miracle had occurred. There was no mess on the floor. The breast pump appeared as though it had been set up correctly. Your dad was walking back inside with Tramp, already having completed a walk, and your mom was rocking Rose in her arms in the kitchen with four plates of dinner lined up on the counter.

"I hope sandwiches are okay," she said when she spotted you and Bradley. "Just something simple tonight. Tomorrow I'll make spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread."

You took Rose from her and handed the baby to Bradley before throwing your arms around your mom's neck. "Thank you," you whispered, voice shaking with an emotion that wasn't unpleasant. "All of this is really overwhelming."

"We're here to help make it easier. Eat your sandwich."

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

Having your parents stay for the week seemed to make all the difference in the world. They knew how to handle seemingly everything. When you winced after feeding Rose, your mom mentioned getting some ointment. She made a shopping list and ran to the store, and she even brought back the correct type of coffee. And your dad didn't seem to mind sitting in the nursery in the middle of the night, burping and rocking Rose after you finished feeding her so you could go right back to bed.

In fact, every single thing they did, they did with a smile on their face. They were absolutely loving this. And every so often, Bradley felt a pang of sadness associated with something he would never get to experience.

He was thankful for his in-laws, but he would give anything right now to get to experience his own mom and dad having a visit with Rose. It hurt too much to think about it for more than a few seconds here and there, so he forced himself not to. But you always seemed to have a way of honoring them even when he couldn't come up with one himself, and he was so thankful that you did. When he walked in from work on Wednesday, you were sitting at the kitchen island, pumping your breast milk and typing on your computer.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Where's the Nugget?" Bradley asked as you tipped your head to the side to let him kiss your neck.

"She's outside with my mom," you replied easily. "And my dad is taking a nap upstairs since he was up so much last night."

He hummed as he saw your mom walk across the back patio with Rose in her arms and Tramp following behind them. "What are you working on?"

You sounded calm and relaxed as you said, "Finally getting the hang of the pump. The ointment my mom got is helping so much, and I'm trying to store some of my milk in the fridge to make things easier. Oh, and I'm sending baby pictures to Brenda and the other cousins." 

You turned and kissed him over your shoulder as he looked at your computer screen. There was an adorable collage of photos of Rose as well as a family tree graphic that you made. It had everyone's name on it, including Nick and Carole Bradshaw, with the branches all leading to Rose's name in the middle.

"That's really pretty," he whispered, getting choked up.

"I thought so, too," you said, reaching for his hand. "Maybe we can get a copy printed and hang it by the piano?"

"Yeah. We should do that," he grunted, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. "I'll be back after I say hi to Rosie."

When he walked outside, your mom was telling a very elaborate rendition of the Three Little Pigs to his daughter while she yawned like she was going to fall asleep. "Want me to put her in the nursery so you can take a break?" he asked quietly.

"I've got her," she replied, nodding back toward the house. "Why don't you take your wife out for a few hours? She's been pumping all day, so I can just give this little one a bottle if she gets hungry after her nap."

"Oh," Bradley grunted. It was Wednesday. This used to be Hard Deck night for the two of you. Nobody would expect it, and it might even be fun. "Yeah. Okay." He kissed the top of Rose's head and went back inside, taking you by the hand as you sent the photos and the family tree off in an email.

"What are you doing?" you asked as he led you toward the bedroom. "You want to snuggle?"

"Yes. Always. But right now, we're going out for a few hours."

"Where?"

Bradley smirked. "It's Wednesday."

You gave him a confused look that melted away immediately. "The Hard Deck?"

"Of course."

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

The idea of getting out of the house took over your brain and made you feel lighter than air, but the prospect of having to wear real clothes was upsetting to say the least. You knew your jeans wouldn't fit, and just thinking about the tight waistband against your belly made you cringe. You watched Bradley change into the tropical print shirt you got him for Christmas, the one that matched Rosie's, and he looked impossibly handsome.

"I'll be ready to leave when you are," he promised, kissing your cheek as he tucked his wallet into his jeans pocket. "Just let me know, okay?"

Then he rushed from the room, leaving you alone with an entire wardrobe of clothing that made you want to scream. After looking at nearly everything you owned, you settled on black leggings that were a little too big on you before you got pregnant and your oversized red sweater. You carefully got dressed, scared to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, but you needed to put on some makeup.

The finished product wasn't too bad. You looked tired, but so did Bradley. Your outfit mostly hid your weird shape, and you were absolutely craving a beer right now. After this week, you were going to owe your parents big time, but when you went out to the living room, they appeared to be absolutely thriving.

Your dad had a rattle and a crinkle toy in his hands, and Rose was reaching for them while your mom held her. Every time the baby moved an inch, they cheered. You had to stifle your laughter as Bradley came in through the front door with a small bundle of flowers.

"Where did you get those?" you asked him as you leaned down to give Rose a kiss on her cheek.

"From the neighbor's shrub." When you gave him a concerned look, he added, "I asked first! I wanted you to have flowers for date night. I'm pretty sure it's important to keep the magic alive after you have a kid."

The Hard Deck and flowers from a shrub seemed kind of ridiculous for a date, but he was always so sincere. "Thanks, Roo. This is perfect."

He smiled as you put the flowers in the kitchen, and your mom said, "Get a move on, you two. We have everything under control."

You and Bradley were speed walking out to the blue Bronco when you said, "It's like I'm in high school again. I have to get permission from my parents to go out for the night."

Bradley's laughter put an enormous smile on your face as he buckled you in the front seat. He ran his thumb along your cheek and whispered, "You look beautiful," before closing the door. His words left your heart racing, because you knew he meant them. When he backed out of the driveway, he said, "We should stop for pizza on the way there."

It felt like a date early on in your relationship. Sitting in a booth together, constantly holding hands, legs intertwined under the table. Neither of you could stop smiling or laughing, and Bradley still had no shame when it came to inhaling slice after slice of pizza. The best part was when he pulled a bottle of the hot sauce you made in Mexico out of his pocket and set it on the table.

"Oh my goodness!" you gasped, carefully covering your slice in it so you didn't actually waste any. "You win husband of the year, once again."

"I wonder if Rose will like hot sauce," he mused before folding up a slice and eating it in three bites. 

"She better," you replied, moaning in delight. "If she knows what's good for her."

Bradley devoured the last slice when you pushed it toward him. "Let's go fuck up the Hard Deck, Sweetheart."

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

"Mom and Dad are here!"

Bradley groaned when Natasha announced his arrival to everyone in the bar, but you just laughed and snuggled against his side when he slung his arm over your shoulders. Within seconds, the two of you were stopped in your tracks as the usual crowd and a few others came over to offer congratulations and say hello. And a few minutes after that, both of you were holding two drinks.

"Where's my goddaughter?" Jake called over the music, and Bradley pursed his lips.

"She's our designated driver," he replied. "She's waiting in the Bronco."

The aviators laughed as you shook your head and said, "My parents are visiting for the week. They insisted we go out and have a good time."

"So you came to the Hard Deck?" Reuben asked, leaning in to give you a hug. "Rooster, take your wife and the mother of your child somewhere nicer next time."

You were laughing as hard as everyone else now, as Bradley groaned and looked at the ceiling. "I used to like it here," he said as Nat pulled both of you in for a bear hug.

And that was when the two of you were saved from being the center of attention by an even more exciting arrival.

"He's back!"

Bradley turned in time to see Bob walking in, holding Maria's hand. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his glasses were a little crooked, and Bradley could tell instantly why they were just getting to the bar now even if the aircraft carrier docked this afternoon. At least they hadn't broken up over the deployment. 

Maria shook her hand free and made a beeline toward you. "Oh my god, I can't believe you're here! When can I come see the baby?"

"Any time," you replied. "I'll be home for weeks."

She kissed your cheek before giving Bradley a quick hug, too. "I'll bring Cam with me one night. And you should come to brunch this weekend or next weekend. You can bring Rose!"

Bradley cringed a bit at the idea of his tiny daughter being around a bunch of loud, germy strangers in a restaurant. "Or... she can just stay at home with me while you enjoy yourselves," he told you and Maria.

"Sure, Roo," you replied, stroking your fingers along his cheek. "Yeah, I'll make sure I get to brunch one of these weekends."

Bradley watched you converse with Maria, and then the two of you talked to a very overwhelmed looking Bob who also asked about the baby. And Bradley swore you only sipped at your beers, but you were starting to look a little tipsy.

"You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked, trying not to laugh as you danced around completely off the beat of the music playing on the jukebox.

"Yeah," you told him, smiling over your shoulder. You were so fucking adorable, it was unbelievable. "But my boobs are starting to get uncomfy. I'm going to need some relief soon." You turned to face him as you ran your hands along your chest, and even with that sweater on, his imagination took over.

His cock was already reporting for duty as he rasped, "You want me to take you home so Rose can nurse and make you feel better?"

You kind of shrugged in response as you took a step closer to him, still touching yourself. "Well, I've been drinking alcohol, so if we go home, I'll have to pump instead and then dump it down the drain."

"Fuck," Bradley groaned as you reached for his hand and brought it up to your chest in the middle of the Hard Deck. "I don't think you should be wasting that."

You smiled and asked, "Back seat of the Bronco then?" 

When he just nodded at you like an idiot, you hooked your index finger through one of his belt loops and dragged him around, erection and all, to say goodbye to everyone. His jeans were not his friend at the moment. Not with the prospect of your tits leaking milk filling his mind. Once you had him outside, your lips were all over his.

"You make everything so much better, Bradley," you whispered against his mouth as your fingers tangled in his hair. "Literally everything."

"I love you so much. Fuck," he moaned as you cupped him through his jeans. Someone else was exiting the bar now, but he didn't have the wherewithal to tell you to stop. He didn't want you to stop. "Come on, Baby Girl," he said, ushering you to the promised solitude of the backseat.

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

You were so horny. You couldn't even fathom what was going on with your hormones that you were mostly in tears on Monday and desperate for an orgasm tonight. Straddling Bradley's lap in the back of the Bronco was nothing new for you, but you were a little concerned about the way your body looked. 

"Holy fucking hell, you're so hot," he groaned, inching your sweater up and pulling it over your head. He was looking at you like you were a million dollar lottery prize with your stretched out belly and your nursing bra. He ran his hands up your hips to your waist, and he looked you in the eye as he said, "You're stunning."

Okay. Well, he could have anything he wanted. You unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor as you ground yourself against his erection. He hissed in response before bringing his hands up to your tits and giving them a little squeeze. You were already leaking milk, and Bradley was whimpering softly as he dragged his nose along the curve of one breast and then the other before tasting you.

"Roo," you gasped. His lips and mustache were needy and rough, and you couldn't stop yourself from rubbing your pussy against him. He looked up at you as he sucked on your nipple, and you played with his hair as you asked, "Do you like this?" He nodded before teasing you with his tongue and sucking more of your breast into his mouth. "I'm so horny," you moaned.

He released you. "I want to fuck the absolute shit out of you right now. Do you have any idea?" He started kissing your other nipple as he guided your hips so you were flush against the fly of his jeans. "I want you to get yourself off, Baby Girl," he rasped. "I know you can do it."

You had no shame, head tossed back, whining his name as he wrapped his perfect lips around your other nipple and helped himself. You could feel the outline of the head of his cock through his jeans. He was hard. So hard. And he felt good against your clit. You had to be soaking through your cotton underwear and leggings, but he kept guiding your hips closer and closer.

"Do it," he coaxed softly, running his mustache along your nipple.

You were about to tell him that your body felt so different, you weren't even sure if you'd be able to get off or if it would even feel good. But the words froze in your throat as Bradley parted his lips to taste you again, and you felt yourself gush into his mouth.

"Oh my god," you whispered, maybe a little embarrassed that you had no control over your own body. His eyes went wide as he lapped up your breast milk, and you arched your back as you came on his cock through his jeans, grabbing his hair and the Bronco ceiling for control. You were shaking all over, keening loudly, convinced someone in the parking lot must have heard you by now. You didn't even care. This orgasm was insanely good, and it kept going as you panted and squirmed.

Your breasts were damp to the night air, and you knew it had to be some combination of your milk and Bradley's saliva cooling on your skin as you shivered against his body. His arms were wrapped around you as you rocked slowly before finally coming to a stop.

"Feel good?" he asked between little kisses to your chest.

"Incredible," you moaned. "Holy shit, Roo."

"Yeah," he agreed breathlessly. "Me too."

You noticed he wasn't as hard now, and you took his chin in your palm, guiding his gaze to meet yours. "Did you cum?"

"In my jeans," he confirmed with a nod. "I can't handle how fucking perfect you are." You felt powerful as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. "You literally made me cum in my pants, Sweetheart."

You gave him a soft kiss. "And you didn't even break the center console."

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

BG is definitely struggling a little bit with her postpartum body. Roo is struggling in a different way. There's a lot on the horizon, including angst, but if there's something you'd love to read about this family, let me know! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 19

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[gothamhappiness]

The nightmare (Jason Todd x GN!reader)

Warnings: no proof reading, angst, kinda comfort but not really, mentions of blood, violence, Joker, dark!Jason at the end

You woke up sweating and your heart beating so fast that you thought it was going to explode inside your chest. You sat up before frantically looking for your boyfriend Jason in the bed. You needed several instants to collect yourself and remember that he was patroling away tonight.

You couldn't stay in bed, not after the nightmare you just had. You needed to busy yourself until Jason came back. You went into the kitchen and started to prepare some tea. Hopefully, it could calm down your nerves. You wanted to call Jay, but you were worried you would distract him during a mission.

The tea didn't help. Your eyes were focused on the time passing by. You were getting very distraught now. What if something had happened to Jason?

Just like in your nightmare.

At the instant you heard the window getting opened, you rushed to it. Red Hood barely had the time to get inside; you were already hugging him before checking him for any injuries. If your warm welcome made Jay smile at first, it was until he noticed how anxious you were. He removed his helmet, let it fall on the ground before gently cupping your face into both of his hands.

"Hey babe. Is everything alright?" he whispered to you

"I'm just... so happy to see you're all good" you replied, starting to cry.

Jason panicked. He wasn't standing to see you in such a bad state of mind. He quickly sat you down on the couch, then knelt down in front of you, trying to comfort you with gentle words and touch. You managed to calm down after a little while.

"I'm so sorry, this is so silly. I just had this nightmare and I worried about you and..." you babbled

"What nightmare, love?" Jay asked

You didn't reply. You weren't too sure you wanted to talk about it to Jason. He took your hands in his and stroked them.

"Alright, I'm gonna grab a shower and..."

"Let me take care of you" you asked

Jason simply nodded, he couldn't deny you anything.

You helped him undress and then washed him with great care and tenderness. It was allowing you to stop thinking about the nightmare. Jay enjoyed your quiet love for him. You were the only person who ever cared for him like that. He was so grateful you were part of his life. He didn't know how he could live without you.

He also looked after you in a comfortable silence even though your boyfriend hated to see you so tense. For the moment, he allowed you to keep your thoughts to yourself.

But at the instant you both settled in bed, he gently guided you on his lap. You instinctively snuggled against him.

"So, what's going on?" he whispered

"I'm not positive that I want to tell you about it..." You admitted

"Why not?" He stroked your cheek

"It was about... him." You said

"Him?" Jason asked even if he guessed your answer

"The Joker." You replied

"Alright, what happened with him?" He asked, his jaw clenched

"He... kidnapped the two of us. You were tied up on a chair, and his goons took me on top of a pool full of acid. Joker told me I had the choice. Or I could watch him club you to death, or I could jump in the acid." You explained.

Jason's face was unreadable, but deep down, he was losing his mind.

"And what did you say, love?"

"I jumped of course, and I woke up" you murmured.

Jason instantly grabbed your face and brought you even closer to him.

"My love, I need you to make a promise to me then. Even if I'll do anything to keep you safe, if one day something like that happens, never choose me over yourself. Promise me you'll do everything to stay alive." he was deadly serious

"But Jay..."

"No but. I don't matter."

"How can you say something like that! This is not true! I love you" You cried out

"Let's me rephrase that. If I die, nothing bad will truly happen out of it. You'll get upset, but it'll pass. On the other hand, I can assure you that no one in Gotham would want to deal with the aftermath of your death."

"What... what do you mean?" You frowned

"That if anything happened to you, I'll burn this whole city to the ground and there would be no survivor. Not even Batman." Jason darkly promised

"Jay..." You were speechless

"You are my world, my everything, and if I lose you, everyone goes down with me. So now promise me you'll always pick yourself over me and anyone else, baby." He continued

"I... I promise you." You replied as you realised it was the only answer you could give him.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: After accidentally killing your kidnappers, the twins—especially Tangerine—seem determined to keep you away from harm.

Genre: Fluff, hurt & comfort

Warnings: protiective!Tangerine, innocent!civilian!reader, kidnapping, swearing, mentions of injury and blood, canon violence, plot diverts from canon, No Ladybug—the other assassin is supposed to be Carver (since i felt the characterization would have been too off otherwise!)

~ thanks for requesting! i hope you like this hehe <3 @kpopgirlbtssvt ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

So far, the mission was running smoothly.

Lemon and Tangerine had killed all the men in the warehouse and were now making their way out with the White Death's son. Approaching their car, Tangerine throws his bloodied poncho into the trunk as Lemon stuffs the son's passed out body in the backseat. 

"Shit, bruv, I dropped my knife in the warehouse," Lemon suddenly whines with a grimace. 

His brother sends him an annoyed look, "Fuckin' cry me a river will ya? It's just a knife."

Lemon narrows his eyes at Tangerine and slams the car door shut. He deadpans, "It's not just a knife. It's Willa. You'know she's my fav."

"Shouldn't have dropped 'er then, yeah?" Tangerine snaps. 

Lemon ignores him and walks back into the warehouse. He's gone for a while and Tangerine wonders if perhaps he'd been hurt. Just as his annoyance turns to worry, he sees Lemon emerge from the warehouse, looking incredibly concerned. 

"Tangerine, come here," Lemon calls him over and based on the seriousness of his voice, Tangerine reluctantly follows him. His nose scrunches as they walk around the dead bodies they are responsible for. Lemon pulls at a filthy white sheet that hangs in the corner and it falls to reveal a makeshift room with old, beaten, boxes.

However, Tangerine's blood runs cold when he sees you splayed across the mattress in the opposite corner. 

Lemon sends him a look. "Heard 'er shift. I think she's asleep," he says. 

Cautiously, they move closer and Tangerine hears the occasional quiet whimper escape your lips. He kneels beside you, brows furrowing heavily, as with a gentle hand he pulls on your shoulder so you shift from your side onto your back. Your arm falls limp over the mattress and your head rolls to face him, causing Tangerine to inhale sharply. 

Your eyes are shut and your hair is messily splayed around and across your face. You're dressed in a pair of pajama shorts, worn out sneakers, and a tank top, the flimsy bedsheet the bastard that had done this to you had provided you with barely covers your bruised and exposed skin. 

Tangerine's jaw clenches when he sees the fingerprints on your thighs and arms. He looks at Lemon, who shrugs his shoulders and then leans over you to take your wrist and check your pulse. 

"Sleeping," he repeats. 

"Drugged," Tangerine argues and runs a hand over his face. Part of him wants to leave you here. You aren't his responsibility. He has a job to finish and anyway, he'd already killed the men who took you—probably? Hopefully? Fuck. He glances at Lemon, who seems debating the same thing and then Lemon catches his eye, as usual, his brother reads his fucking mind. 

"We have to take 'er," Lemon whispers, "She's innocent."

Tangerine looks at you again and his frown remains. Innocent. For all they know you could be the fucking evil mastermind behind it all. Maybe this was your plan all along and they're the fools who have fallen for the trick.

Only, his eyes soften when he watches your chest lift and fall a little harshly. You look so strangely delicate and it's making Tangerine lose his mind. 

No, you couldn't be anything other than pure innocence. 

Without another word, Tangerine shifts and hooks his arms under you. Your dead weight leans against his chest as the sheet falls from the curve of your foot and his hands tighten around you in fear you'll shiver from the sudden cold. 

Lemon watches his brother for a moment, a small smirk tugging at his lips. As much as he wants to, he doesn't comment on the scene in front of him.

* * *

Your head feels like it's spinning. The man you learned is named Lemon is yapping your ear off as you squeeze through the train aisle. You almost bump into him as he struggles with the poor man they'd told you bumped his head, and then the second man who'd introduced himself as Tangerine almost bumps into you.

You squeal, almost tripping, but Tangerine grunts and wraps his arm around your stomach so you don't fall. 

Quickly, as Lemon finds a booth and pushes the third man to lean against the window, Tangerine removes his arm and pretends like he didn't feel how badly you tensed under his touch. Raw anger simmers inside him at the mere idea of what your kidnappers had put you through.  

You watch as Lemon disappears with the silver briefcase for a moment and you wrap Tangerine's checkered coat closer around you. It's cool in the train and your exposed thighs and arms prickle with goosebumps. You don't dare complain. Tangerine sits next to you and he sends you a look. 

"Ya cold, luv?" he asks seriously. 

You look up at him, eyes widened innocently, and hesitate before you nod. Tangerine hums, happy you're communicating in some way, and he looks around. He stands and disappears down the aisle.

Lemon obscures your view for a moment when he sits across from you and when Tangerine returns, he's holding a sweatshirt over his arm. He hands it to you without a word and when Lemon gives his brother a confused look. Tangerine rolls his eyes and says, "What? I nicked it for 'er. She's cold."

Lemon hides a smirk as he holds up his arm in surrender and doesn't say much more. You slowly let Tangerine's coat fall from your shoulders as you slip on the sweatshirt. It's large enough to cover up to your mid-thigh and you feel less uneasy.

"So, ya really don't remember what those men wanted with ya?" Lemon interrupts.

You shrink in your seat. You wish you could remember more of your kidnapping so you could tell them. When you came to, you were already in the Twins car and they'd informed you you had been drugged and most likely kidnapped. You couldn't remember why. 

While the Twins had been nothing but kind to you, you still can't shake the feeling that they aren't the knights in shining armor you want them to be. You peer at Tangerine as he plucks a pack of snacks from the passing trolley. Without hesitation, he turns and hands them to you. 

You sit up a little and look at the snacks, eyes round. Tangerine nods silently as if to say, "It's okay," and then turns his attention to his brother, his blue eyes sharp. "She said she doesn't remember. Will ya lay off her?" he snaps.

You open the snacks and eat them up quickly. You hiss as your split lip opens from your carelessness but you continue to eat anyway.

Lemon and Tangerine bicker again but you're too focused on the food in your palms to care. Lemon sends you a sympathetic look as Tangerine calms down and the third man, who is sitting in a booth across from you all, starts to stir. 

* * *

"I am not leaving 'her alone with 'im!" Tangerine exclaims as he stares at Lemon like he's lost his mind. Lemon throws his hands up in the air and glares at his brother. "I don't trust 'im. If he's anything like his Daddy then he's bad fuckin' news," Tangerine reasons.

"So, what's your plan then? You gonna keep her safe by your side, hm? Someone took our case and I can guarantee they aren't gonna play nicely, bruv! She's a fuckin' liability, that's what she is!" 

Lemon raises good points but Tangerine ignores him completely. 

"She's our responsibility now, Lemon," he says sternly but he's distracted by the doors to the cabin sliding open and your frame slamming into his chest. Surprised, he tenses as your hands grasp helplessly at his suit and hide behind him. Lemon looks as puzzled as his brother when he sees how scared you look. 

However, unlike Lemon, Tangerine is in a panic. He spins around and holds onto your shoulders. He leans down as you hyperventilate, his heart beating so loudly. "Hey, hey, luv, what happened? Are ya hurt? What's wrong? Tell me," he says. His large hands move up to cup your tear-stained cheeks as he tries to calm you down.

You make small gasping sounds and point to the now shut doors you just came from. "T-the man! H-he w-was poisoned! I saw the person in the costume prick him with something and now there's blood coming out of his eyes. I think he's dead!" you sound completely horrified and Tangerine can't help himself when he wraps you in his arms and holds you closer.

Lemon paces behind him, clearly alarmed that the white death's son was murdered under their care, but Tangerine is only focused on you.

"Hey, darlin', can you look at me," he whispers as he tries to ground you. "You're fine. Shh, you're okay now. You did the right thing running to us, hmm?" you nod, still clutching onto Tangerine. Lemon scoffs from behind you and his brother sends him a dark look. "She's staying with me," Tangerine says. 

"Your funeral mate," Lemon says and unlocks his gun. He looks at you and his eyes soften for a moment before they land on Tangerine. "You've gone completely sweet for 'er," he says in a whisper, almost like he can't believe he's saying those words out loud, "be careful." 

You look up at Tangerine and see his jaw clench for a moment. Something flickers in his eyes—denial perhaps—but he just ignores Lemon's warning and guides you back into the train compartment to make a plan. 

* * *

Your head is throbbing as it hits the wall of the train. You hear ringing in your ears as Tangerine's shouts become hazy. You feel a hand curl around the hood of your sweatshirt as you're yanked up and thrown to the opposite side of the room again. You crash into the cupboards as foods from the shelves fall onto you.  

"Fuckin' bastard," Tangerine seethes, recovering from a punch the man had landed in his stomach. He lunges and hits the man in the nose, the crack audible, as the man crumbles to the ground. Tangerine sees red as he straddles the man and punches him repeatedly. "Ya don't fuckin' touch 'er! Ya hear me? I see one fuckin' bruise from your fingerprints on her again and I'll break all your fuckin' bones!" 

You struggle to stand, shards of glass stuck in your palms as you watch the scene with a scared expression. The man slams a glass onto Tangerine's head and taunts cruelly, "What's she to you, hm? One of your little bitches? Your reputation betrays you, Tangerine." You wince at this man's words and when he stares at you, your breath hitches.

"Huh, you one of his bitches, girl? A stunner like you shouldn't be involved with men like him, you know—but, I can see why he keeps you around, I mean you're—" 

Tangerine interrupts him with a hard punch in the jaw and his sentence falls short. Without hesitation, Tangerine takes your wrist in his hand and speed-walks away from the scene. You stumble after him as he grunts in pain from the blows he'd taken. When he finds an empty bathroom, he pushes you inside as he crams into the small space. 

Tangerine's hip is digging into the sink as he holds up your palm. "Shit, look at your hand," he mutters and then looks up at you more closely, "You aren't too hurt, are ya? I'm sorry, darlin'." 

You stare at him, your adrenaline pumping, and blurt out the first thing you think of as you look at the cuts and bruises across his face, and at how disheveled and bloody his suit has become. "You look like shit," you say with concern, and with your other hand, you push some curls away from his forehead. Your fingers dance across his skin delicately, too worried for him to realize what exactly you're doing

Tangerine's eyebrows raise in surprise and he laughs. You pull your hand away and stare up at him, your wounds obvious from the blows that the other assassin had landed on you. However, he just smirks. "Atta girl," he whispers, and almost as if on instinct he moves to press his knuckles to your cheek. You feel the warmth spread across them. 

Clearing his throat, he pulls his arm away and looks down to unlock his gun. "We gotta find Lemon and we need to get off this god-forsaken train—job be damned. I'm not putting you at risk anymore." You nod, wiping some blood from the corner of your mouth with your sleeve.

"You stay behind me and listen closely. If I say jump, you jump, understand?" he says and slides the door to the bathroom open.

* * *

Tangerine feels his eyes hang heavy as he tries to erase the memory of Lemon's dead body. His heart is pounding as he feels your hands clutch around his arm. He hadn't let you see Lemon, not fully, but you'd cried from the situation anyway (and in fear of his anger he assumes). 

After all, he is furious.

"Fuckin' diesel bitch," he mutters, his gun pointed at the girl dressed in pink.

The young girl snarls and stares at him defiantly. She doesn't seem scared of him. However, as soon as the third assassin—the brown-haired man from earlier—enters, she screams. Tangerine senses you tense beside him and he quickly moves to shield you as the man points his gun at you and him. 

Tangerine fires his gun sloppily and it hits the man in his neck. However, he's too slow to prevent the man's bullet from hitting you in the shoulder.  

You shriek and the pain is excruciating as you fall to the ground. Tangerine spins around, catching you in time as he holds you close and applies pressure to your wound. He holds up your head as he looks into your teary eyes.

"Shit, fuck, fuck, hey–shh, you're okay," he promises, his voice strained. You're not trained for the pain and as much as Tangerine tries to prevent you from looking, your eyes move to your shoulder. 

There's blood everywhere. 

Tangerine can see that you're in shock as your eyelids flutter. He holds you up but he can't think as you lose consciousness. He wants to scream and he slams his hand onto the ground next to you, desperately holding you to him. 

He needs to help you.

Somehow.

* * * 

When you wake, you hear Tangerine's voice loud and clear— "You told me you weren't wearing yer fuckin' vest!" he snaps, pacing around the small motel room. Your eyelids flutter and you see Lemon—Lemon!— sitting on the second queen bed, his head in his hands. Tangerine's pendant still hangs from his neck. 

"Will ya stop screaming at me!?" Lemon hisses, pinching his nose.

"I though' ya'd died!!" 

From where you lay you can see how furious Tangerine looks. His suit is still bloody and he looks as disheveled as he did on the train. You can hear how pained he sounds and your heart sinks.

Lemon is silent for a moment and then he stands. Without any smart comment or argument, he walks over to his brother and wraps his arm around Tangerine's shoulders. Instantly, Tangerine's body seems to melt into Lemon and you hear a choked sob as they hug—you aren't entirely sure who it's from. 

After a moment, Lemon pulls away first but puts his hand on the back of Tangerine's nape. "I see ya managed to keep 'er safe," he says, amusement in his voice as he turns to you and you shut your eyes so they'll think you're still asleep. 

"Barely," Tangerine's voice is strained, "She's hurt. I tried'a stitch her up as best I could but I ain't no fuckin' doctor. She was passed out the entire time—hope she didn't feel a thing."

You hadn't.

"You care about 'er," Lemon states and you hold your breath. 

"I don't," Tangerine insists quickly. "She's just a responsibility. Nothin' more, nothin' less."

Your chest tightens at his words and you feel very stupid. Why would he care more than that? You're still strangers. You don't even know his favorite color. All you know is that you care.

He'd saved you. He was your savior. How could you move on and pretend he wasn't? How could you move on and just not see him anymore?

Lemon sighs sadly, "Why is it so hard for you to admit you care about someone?"

"Because everything I care about dies. Gone. Just like that, Lemon," you hear Tangerine snap his fingers and you flinch, "I don' want 'er to die because of me. Because I cared too much to let her go and live a normal fuckin' life!" 

You bite down on your lip—hard. 

"I–fuck, you don't understand Lemon," Tangerine says and you wish you could open your eyes to see him. You want to see him so badly but you can't so you stay still, listening in. "I almost lost you and you're a trained assassin! She's just a girl. I can't protect her. I couldn't even protect her tonight."

You want to tell him that he's wrong. He can! He had! Without him, you'd still be kidnapped or worse, dead. 

"Mate, you're too hard on yourself," Lemon reasons. 

"No. I'm not. I can't fuck up. Fuckin' up means death," Tangerine says sternly, his tone ending the conversation.

You hear faint footsteps and then the mattress dips as someone's nimble fingers find your hairline and push away some stray hairs. Is it weird that you recognize his touch already? You stir unconsciously and shift onto your back, your eyes opening. 

You're unaware that as they flutter, all Tangerine is picturing as his blue ones staring back at you is the way you looked when they'd found you—hair messy and spilled across the dirty mattress, skin bruised and bloody. His stomach churns and he feels sick. 

"Hi, darlin'," he mutters, and then his fingers, slow and deliberate, move to pull down the blanket so he can access your bound shoulder. You tilt your head and wince when you see the blood seeping through the plaster.

"May I?" Tangerine asks as his hand hovers over your shoulder. You nod, staring up at him with widened eyes as he checks over your wound. 

As he works, you're overwhelmed and you have to look away. When you do, your eyes fall on Lemon. "Lemon," you say, "you're alive!" 

Lemon cracks a smile and runs a hand over his face, "I am. Were ya sad, bird?"

It's meant to be teasing but you nod instantly and Lemon's eyebrows crease. He looks at Tangerine, who stands up and pulls the covers over you again. "She's a sweet bird, ain't she?" Lemon says as he smiles fondly. Tangerine nods and moves some hair behind his ear as the strands fall messily. 

"Yeah," is all he answers and then he tells you, "Rest up now, luv. Your stitches are solid and you need sleep. It's been a long day." You wonder if he knows you'd overheard his conversation with Lemon or if he's blissfully unaware. You try and sit up but Tangerine scowls, "Hey, now, none of that," he reprimands. 

"Don't leave me," you say seriously and Tangerine's eyes round.

"Pardon?"

"I don't want to be alone—" you whisper and settle into the pillows again, looking up at him. 

"Lemon and I will just be over," Tangerine starts to explain but you reach out and grasp his wrist. You stare up at him silently and Lemon chuckles. 

"Think she wants ya to sleep with 'er," he says and Tangerine's cheeks turn pink at the double meaning. He sends Lemon a glare but sits back down beside you. He lets you hold onto his wrist as he thinks of a plan. 

You wonder if asking him to lay next to you is too much. You would understand if he refuses.

"I'm gonna clean up a little," Tangerine finally says, "and then Lemon can take the other bed and I'll—I'll sit here, on the floor, and hold your hand so you can sleep?"

His voice has a slight tremble you wonder if he's suppressing, and you can't help but wish he'd just hold you.

"You'll be uncomfortable," you try persuading him as he stands and his wrist slips from your hand.

"I want to keep watch tonight anyways," Tangerine says and smiles. It isn't a smirk—no it's a real smile. You don't argue as you nod.

Your arm dangles from the bed as you try and stay awake long enough to know Tangerine will actually hold your hand. You feel your body slip in and out of sleep as you catch only fragments of Tangerine's conversation with Lemon through the open bathroom door. 

"We'll call Billy tomorrow morning and she can call 'er family—tell'em she's safe."

"Ya know, ya could just sleep in the bed—next to her—it's really not that odd,"

"Shut up,"

You're so close to sleep your eyelids feel so heavy that when you hear quiet shuffling near your ear, you can't even open your eyes. Your hand twitches and a soft sound escapes your lips when you feel Tangerine's fingers interlock with yours. 

"I'm here," he whispers, the sound so quiet if you weren't so close to him you'd miss it. You hear the sound of his head hitting the bedside table and with an exhausted wince, you shift closer, your hand squeezing his. 

"Thank you f-for everything," you manage to mumble, your eyes remaining shut. You aren't sure your thanks escaped your lips audibly because he doesn't answer. You slip into sleep, unaware of Tangerine's mind racing as his hand remains in yours. 

Don't thank me, he thinks, please. 

His drowsy eyes are trained on the motel door as Lemon washes up in the bathroom. He refuses to shut them. While his back is already aching from sitting on the floor and his arm is tired from being in such an awkward position to hold your hand, he doesn't move. 

Instead, he listens to your calm breathing as you sleep. It's so different from when he'd found you—you'd been so scared and, even drugged, your body had been on edge.

Now, you sound so calm and secure and as silly as it sounds, Tangerine's chest tightens. As long as he can help it he'll make sure you're never that scared and vulnerable again.  

[literaila]

sick

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru does not get the 'flu' that you have, or why you can't take megumi to the bookstore

warnings: symptoms of the flu, satoru is a bastard, cute kids

last part | next part

*

year two.

you:  can you take megumi to the bookstore? i can't make it 

"megumi wants me to ask you what you mean by 'i can't make it.'" 

your phone rings as soon as the message is sent, making you groan and roll over in bed. your palms are sweaty, and your body feels a bit like you got eaten alive. 

you probably shouldn't have answered, but honestly, how can you be expected to make smart decisions in this state?

you sigh into the phone. "it means that i can't make it, satoru." 

usually, his voice would make you smile but right now it just makes you want to die. and sleep for a couple... billion years, at least. 

"megumi wants me to ask what you mean by that?" satoru says again like you can't tell he's grinning. 

"just let me talk to him," you sigh, turning over on your side, which does nothing to ease the ache in your abdomen, by the way. you feel briefly nauseous like you might need the bowl you dragged under the covers, but it eases. you swallow bile. 

"what's wrong?" satoru asks, still teasing, and doesn't put megumi on the phone because he has never, not once in his life done anything without an argument. 

really, why do you put up with him?

"nothing." 

"well you just forgot that both of the kids are in school right now, like they are every day, so..." 

you close your eyes, pulling the covers up even higher. "oh. yeah." 

"did you get hurt, or something?" satoru asks, no concern evident in his voice, "going on another mission?" 

"no." 

satoru is silent, waiting. and you really truly do hate him. anyone else would just do you this favor. 

but not your best friend, no, he does nothing you ask. 

"i'm sick," you tell him, after a whole minute of silence. 

you can almost hear it as his brows furrow. "what?" 

"i have the flu or something," you cough into the receiver, hoping that it hurts his ear. 

"how?" 

"ugh," you groan, trying to rub the ache out of your jaw. "not all of us are immune to getting sick, you freak. will you take megumi to the bookstore for me? please?" 

"i don't think he wants to go with me." 

"satoru," you whine. 

"...and also i'm not allowed to enter the premises anymore." 

you sniff, wishing that you had more tissues, "what? since when?" 

"a couple weeks ago," he answers, nonchalantly. you can hear him moving around, probably wreaking havoc on the house you'll have to deep clean in a couple of days. 

not to mention your room. seriously, getting sick is the worst. 

"why?" 

"nuh uh," he says to you, very seriously. "that's between me and the children. they swore me to secrecy, and you're the one that's always going on and on about trust and how easily it's broken..." 

"you mean that you swore them to secrecy." 

"i bribed them," satoru agrees as if it's not an insane thing to say about your seven and eight-year-olds. 

"with what?!" 

"tsumiki took the offer of picking whatever takeout she wanted, and i think megumi was just glad i couldn't bring him anymore, the brat." 

you can hear his eyes roll, and the mention of the little boy's name reminds you of why you're having this discussion in the first place. 

"satoru... i really can't take him and i promised we'd go today," you groan into your pillow, voice feeling very sore. you shouldn't be talking to this insane man right now, you should be asleep. 

he pauses. "i can wear a disguise, i guess?" 

you groan again, hopefully, louder. "no, you're right about him not wanting to go with you." 

"rude." 

"i guess i'll just..." you attempt to sit up for the third time, feeling a bit dizzy as you do so. "i'll take some medicine and see if i feel better by the time they get out of school."

you're already mentally checking your medicine cabinet, not even sure if you have anything to help this ease by later in the afternoon. just some pain relief would be nice, but if you're contagious...

"what? no."

"well, you can't take him," you answer, still annoyed. 

"he doesn't need to go..." 

you hope that satoru can feel your scowl. "i promised." 

"he's a reasonable kid..." satoru says, clearly not remembering the brooding that happened the last time megumi had to re-read one of his books. "i think." 

you're silent. 

"look, i'll talk to him, okay?" he settles on, finally. "and i'll give him a couple hundred yen, it'll be fine. 

your mouth opens, and you cough, before, "no, satoru--" 

"get some rest," he exclaims, unpleasantly. 

"have him call me when you pick them up, satoru--" 

"don't die of the flu or anything." 

and then he's gone, and now you've got a headache, too. 

*

you think you might be dreaming when you open your front door.

the knocking had woken you up--you think--but with how long it took to walk from your room, into the hallway, and then the door, honestly, you might've fainted. or decided to take another nap against the wall. 

because once you open it, it feels like you've done this before.  

once again, three people are standing in front of you, two of them already arguing before you even take a step back to swing the door all the way open. 

the light hurts your head as you squint at the three of them. 

"it was my idea--" megumi is saying to satoru, grumpy, you know, from all day at school, and because he's talking to satoru.

"you're not taking all of the credit," satoru says back, "i bought everything." 

"'cause you're rich." 

"wow, so you're objectifying me?" 

"yes," megumi answers immediately, even though you doubt that he even knows what objectifying means (actually, you're pretty certain satoru doesn't even know). you cough, and it feels like something has died inside of you. 

the three of them turn towards you, tsumiki with a pleading look.

"it was my idea, okay?" megumi tells you before anyone else can say anything, and then he pulls tsumiki along with him as they move past you, through the door, into your apartment. 

yes, it's clear that satoru has raised them. 

"i said we should bring soup," tsumiki looks up at you, waiting for the praise she knows you'll give her. 

"our idea," megumi amends, easily. 

then they're out of your reach, going to sit on the very same couch they'd slept on a year ago, probably trying to escape satoru.

who you turn to, with a frown. his hair is so white it hurts to look at.

he points into your apartment, "those are devil spawn." 

you cough. "don't call them that." 

he raises a brow at you. probably at how soft your voice is, or the fact that you haven't hit him in the thirty seconds he's been standing there. 

it's a new record. 

"why are you here?" you rasp out, wiping some snot from your nose.

"no 'hello?'" 

"hello, satoru," your voice is retched, "why are you here?" 

"you look kinda rough, kid," 

you sniff, leaning against the doorjam. you could fall asleep here in an instant. "i'm sick, you jerk." 

"so this is sickness..." satoru says, intrigued, pretending to inspect you closely like you're some lab experiment. 

"i distinctly remember a cold that had you shaking on the floor of your dorm, begging shoko to heal you." 

satoru points a finger at you. "that was an uncurable illness." 

"and yet we're still stuck with you." 

satoru just smirks, pretending to be an angel he is not. 

you cough again and then sigh. it's cold with the door open. "are you just here to annoy me?"

"no," satoru shakes his head, giving you a ridiculous look, "well, i was telling megumi that you couldn't take him to the bookstore, cause of your disease or whatever," he ignores your weak protest, "and then i suggested that maybe we could see how you were feeling, bring you a little gift basket--" 

"no, he didn't!" megumi calls. 

satoru frowns. "devil. spawn." 

you snort, somehow amused at all of them, finally moving aside so he can walk through the door. 

satoru passes, suddenly brighter, but not before leaving an obnoxious kiss on your cheek--a resounding smack following. to which, you promptly wipe off. 

he frowns, and you push him so you can close the door. and then you trail into the kitchen, sitting down immediately before you fall. 

it's so embarrassing that just standing for too long has made you this lightheaded. 

satoru sets a bag on your kitchen counter and begins to unpack it. 

you try to see over his hands. "what did you bring me?" 

"you guys are so unappreciative," satoru tells you, pouting, "you only want me for my goods." 

"and the view," you answer, easily. "what'd you get?" 

megumi and tsumiki comes over to you, both of them giving you a short (megumi) and tight (tsumiki) hug. you've trained them well. 

"soup!" tsumiki tells you, grabbing the container from satoru's hands, despite his look. and then she walks over to your stove, looking in the cupboards for a pot to heat it in. 

because she's used to taking care of herself. they both are. 

"satoru," you nod to her, and he frowns, but reluctantly takes over, pushing tsumiki away from the stove. you're both familiar with this behavior from her. 

most days when you make dinner, tsumiki is trying to sneak into the kitchen, refusing to let you take care of it. 

she pouts a little now, but lets satoru handle the soup.

"gojo got you all of these," megumi tells you, bringing your eyes away from the other man, pushing a stack of pill bottles and medicine containers your way. "i don't think he knows what any of them are." 

"hey! that's a great selection," satoru pours the soup into a pot and sets it on the stove, returning to the counter with the three of you.

"this is a muscle relaxant," you tell him, frowning as you look at the packages--most of which are not for the flu. this is why he's not allowed to go to the store without you.

"well, your muscles need to relax, don't they?" satoru asks, dryly. "wish we could find some of those for your brain..." he mutters, afterward, and you throw the packet right at his face. 

"i found those little sour things you like," megumi continues, smirking just a moment at satoru. "they didn't have a big bag." 

"thanks, megs." 

"there's tissues, and chapstick if your lips get dry. and i picked out the cough drops because gojo wanted to get chocolate flavored or something--" 

"strawberry!" 

megumi rolls his eyes. 

tsumiki steps to your side again. "and we got flowers, but those are still in the car." 

"no, they're not," satoru suddenly has a bouquet of roses in his hands, almost covering his entire face. "they're right here." 

"when did you do that?" 

"when you guys were ridiculing my excellent taste," he pouts, white hair falling over his glasses. 

you laugh. 

"where's your vase?" he asks, going through every cupboard before finally listening to your answer. he settles on the other end of your kitchen, cutting and arranging the bouquet. 

tsumiki taps you. "are you feeling bad?" 

"just a little out of it, sweetie, don't worry." 

"did we get everything you need?" megumi chimes in, giving you a brief moment of eye contact before looking away. 

"yes. you guys did great, thank you both. you're very sweet." 

satoru ahems loudly. "and what about me?" 

"you could've done better." 

the kids both laugh and you push them into the living room, telling them to go sit down for a bit--knowing that satoru dragged them from school to the store to here without a break--and that you'll find a snack for them. 

and then you sigh, a bit nauseous from sitting up for so long. 

"do you need to lay down?" satoru peers at you, setting the bouquet on your table. "you look green." 

"thanks. how'd you learn to do that?" you gesture to the flowers which are arranged beautifully. honestly, you're surprised he didn't leave them on the counter for you to deal with. 

"i am a gentleman." 

"ha. no, seriously." 

"...i may, or may not have looked up what to bring someone who has the flu--and the flowers were extra, but!" he pauses as you laugh at him, resting your head against the cool counter. "i only had to do that because i don't get affected by stupid things like the flu or whatever you have." 

"of course," you whisper, closing your eyes. 

and then there's a hand on your forehead. "you're really warm." 

you press your head into his hand, which is also pleasantly cold. "yeah." 

"did you sleep all day?" 

you nod. 

"really? that's so lazy." 

you push him away, and he laughs, just loud enough for you to hear it. you open your eyes again when you hear him move away, watching him stir the soup on the stove. 

"you probably shouldn't have brought them here," you tell him, gesturing to the living room. "i don't want to get them sick." 

"they missed you," satoru shrugs. "you wouldn't want them to be sick alone." 

"yeah, but..." 

"i'm the worrier today," he interrupts, wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can pull you. "go lay down on the couch with them and i'll get your soup ready." 

"you'll burn it, you mean?" 

"as a punishment for all of the cruel things you say to me," and satoru smiles as he nudges the top of your head with his nose. 

his eyes are almost stern (almost, but not quite) as he watches you lay down on the couch, your hands gestured in defeat, and nods when you're settled in. 

when he walks away, you call, "bring us some water!" 

there's no response, but you know he'll do it. 

tsumiki just slightly nudges you with her hand and you smile, opening your arms for her to cuddle under. 

megumi doesn't do the same, but you don't fail to notice when he scooches just a little bit closer to you both, his thigh touching yours. 

your head still hurts and even the smell of the soup is making you a bit sick, but you'll deal with it as long as they're all here. 

*

you're arguing with satoru about dinner, several days later, when tsumiki and megumi sneeze at exactly the same time. 

it took a couple of days for you to recover, but now you're better than ever, happily fighting with satoru over the stupidest things and watching over both of the children for any defects that happened while you were out of sorts. 

they're mostly okay. 

but now the both of you look over to them, your eyes wide, satoru almost wincing. 

and then you look back to him, already scowling. 

"hey, it was just a sneeze," he tells you, quickly, already knowing what you're about to say. 

"i told you--" 

and then he sneezes, taking a step away from you. 

you groan, giving up on dinner. it looks like the next few days are going to be spent coddling all of your children. 

*

next part

[positively-mine]

Date night!

tags: gn! reader, plot spoilers, not proofread

a/n: part 2?? idk yet. modeled this off my own experience, hopefully it isn't hot trash

Saiki k

Knows where you're both going to end up because he's rewound time so many times. Despite that, he will always cherish the moments you spend together. He can never say no to you. You may have walked this path a thousand times but in the end he'll always choose to join you.

Always remembering which deserts you like and sharing them with you. Of course it's an impromptu cafe hopping session. How much was spent that day on cafes will not be disclosed. Personal chaperone because the moment you say you're tired he's teleported straight to your room. Isn't he the greatest boyfriend ever? What he doesn't say he makes up for it in his actions.

Aren

Obviously he asked to tag along with you. His s/o walking around town with no one to hold your things for you? A crime. Luckily he's your boyfriend though. He's shy but he will still put in the effort. Wants to try everything with you. Won't be direct though so you might have to pick up the little hints he drops.

100% will drag you off to a photo booth. You know how they give a digital version of the pictures? Yeah it's his wallpaper. Also if he finds clothes that are similar to how he used to dress (punk?? I honestly dk 😭) he will want to go in. His signals come in the form of making eye contact with you before shifting his eyes to the shop. Check it out with him pls. He won't take long.

Saiko

Now why would you want to walk around here when he can literally bring you to another country. Well whatever your reason is he will begrudgingly follow you. The thought of walking around makes shivers run up his spine. But since you're so insistent of having him around he guess it won't be so bad to walk around if you're there. Don't stare too long at anything because he'll buy it. You'll be leaving with one of his cars filled with gifts.

Is also reluctant to try the food. But if you'll feed it to him he'll gladly open his mouth. Eventually forms a sweet tooth/ craving of the foods. Orders them secretly because he doesn't want anyone to know... Once you're satisfied, he'll call for his driver to take you to his house so you can review all the things he got for you.

[imaginespazzi]

Not sure if this counts as chaotic family, but I can’t get enough of your writing! I’ve read the ucla story and embarrassing number of times lol.

Can you please write Azzis first day back at practice and Paige is just so excited for her and they’re being cute all morning and then during practice they’re both so happy and then someone fouls azzi hard and she goes to the floor and Paige like kinda yells at them and then azzi tells her to calm down and she’s fine and Paige then apologizes while they’re all eating after practice and the team kinda teases her for getting all defensive about her wife.

Thank you my love and hopefully this lives a little bit up to what you wanted (even if it's unedited and it's been a little bit since you asked for it):

"Happy first day to you, happy first day to you, happy first day dear Azzi, happyfirstdayofbeingclearedforbasketballactivities to you," Paige sing-songs, the last sentence being mushed together so she can make it fit to the tune of "happy birthday, as she wraps her arms around Azzi from behind.

"My poor ears," KK whines dramatically and if Paige wasn't in such an absolutely fantastic mood, she'd give her youngest child the middle finger, but right now, she's too by smiling into her girlfriend's neck.

Azzi giggles, leaning back into Paige and letting herself be wrapped in the blonde's arms, "you're such a sap."

"Your sap," Paige coos before taking her delegated seat on the chair next to Azzi, left hand immediately seeking out a way to intertwine with the younger girl's right one, "you excited to play today babe?"

"So excited," Azzi whispers, wistfulness echoing in her voice. For the most part, the shooting guard excels at hiding her emotions and throughout her injury, she'd done a pretty solid job of keeping them in check. But that doesn't mean she hasn't felt the sting of being away from the sport she loves, every single day. And no one knows that feeling more than Paige as she presses a soft kiss against the younger girl's temple.

"Gonna show us all up at practice today huh Az?" Ice teases and Azzi just shrugs noncommittally with a slight smirk.

But Paige, forever the president of the Azzi Fudd fanclub, is quick to reply for her, "you bet your ass she is."

The rest of the team cheers and it's heartwarming really, how excited everyone is to have Azzi playing again. There's a buzz around the team as they walk into the practice center, the buzz of all their missing pieces starting to fit together. It had begun with Jana, and then Ayanna and now Azzi. With every return, the march towards UConn's 12th national championship, seems clearer and clearer.

It's the first time in a long time, that they have enough bodies available for them to play 5x5 with just the team alone. Much to Paige's chagrin, coach doesn't allow her and Azzi to be on the same team despite her incessant whining ("we haven't played together in ages Coach" "you'll play together all season" "azzi tell him he's being unreasonable" "whatever you say coach" "TRAITOR") but she's not all that upset about it. After all, Paige is nothing if not a competitor and beating Azzi has always been one of her favorite things.

Team adrenaline is on full display, everyone's eagerness to beat each other, but most importantly get better together, on full display as with every minute passing, the game seems to get more and more aggressive. There are no refs and Coach lets them play through the contact, knowing most of them will need to play like that during the season considering how fucking shit terrible the NCAA refs could be.

Call her a psychic but Paige sees it happening before it actually does. Azzi has been great throughout, faltering only once or twice, but that was to be expected her first practice back. It happens in a split secondas she's setting herself for a step-back pull-up, Morgan putting her whole soul into defending her. Something happens in between Azzi shooting the ball and it going in the net and the next thing Paige registers is her girlfriend, her only just recently cleared for basketball activities girlfriend, falling to the floor with a loud thud.

Paige is absolutely still for a second, her vision blurring in red and then-

"WHAT THE HELL MORGAN," Paige's voice echoes around all of Werth, as she marches to where the freshman is helping Azzi up.

She's aware of everyone's eyes on her now, can practically feel the death stare Coach is giving her for letting her emotions get the best of her but Paige doesn't give a damn. All she knows is that this is Azzi's first practice and no one should be being that aggressive with her.

"It was an accident," Morgan recoils, clearly unsure of what do to when her superstar teammate looks like she might murder her.

"DOESN'T MATTER. YOU DON'T FOUL SOMEONE LIKE THAT," Paige yells and even she's aware she's being just a tad bit unreasonable, "SHE LITERALLY JUST GOT BACK. WHAT IS WRONG YOU?"

"Hey hey hey," Azzi pushes a hand against Paige's chest, lightly shoving her back and it's instantaneous the way every part of her seems to calm down at that little touch, "I'm fine."

"That's not the point." Paige spits out through gritted teeth, still glowering at Morgan. Through the periphery of her vision she can make out KK, Ice and Jana snickering and makes a mental note to yell at them because this is NOT an amusing situation thank you very much.

"There is no point," Azzi says firmly, fingers rubbing a soothing pattern down Paige's arms, "it's basketball. Shit like this happens. You need to calm the hell down."

Before Paige, who's slowly beginning to relax into her girlfriend's touch, can say anything, a sharp whistle blows behind them. Knowing exactly who blew it, Paige whispers a prayer to herself before turning to look at furious Geno Auriemma.

"Good job, you just got yourself a technical," he seethes, one hand immediately going up in anticipation of Paige's protest, "do that in an actual game and I will eject you myself.

As Paige nods meekly, the muffled giggles behind her only get louder and when she looks to the side, her own girlfriend, the traitor, is trying to hide a smile.

"It really do be your own people," Paige scoffs and much to her displeasure, the laughs only get louder.

***

"Azzi says I have to apologize to you," Paige grumbles to Morgan as she and Azzi walk into the dining hall after practice, hands swinging together.

Morgan, the good-natured girl she is, just smiles and nods, "nah you're all good. I get it."

"See," Paige says pointedly to her girlfriend who immediately rolls her eyes, "Morgan gets it. You'd do the same too right Morgs?"

"Oh no," Morgan smirks, "I would never. I just know that you're kinda insane when it comes to Azzi."

Paige splutters as Azzi giggles into her shoulder, "I am not insane."

"You're the definition of insane," Jana says.

"And the definition of whipped," Ice chirps in, high-fiving her fellow forward.

"I am not," Paige whines, turning to Azzi "baby tell them I'm not."

"Well I can't lie Paige," Azzi says slowly and Paige lets out an offended squeal.

"You're my girl and you won't even defend me? Can't trust nobody these days."

As Paige pouts, KK waltzes into the dining hall. There's a smirk on her while she walks to the team table and exaggeratedly elbows Azzi on her way there.

"Oh no Azzi, I'm so sorry, I just bumped your arm, Please don't hurt me Paige," KK cowers into Ice, dramatically shielding her body, and the whole team, traitors the lot of them, burst into laughter.

"You're not funny," Paige seethes, crossing her arms, "I hate all of you."

It only makes the rest of the team laugh harder and it isn't until Azzi wraps Paige into her arms, that Paige's annoyed expression softens.

"Hey," the younger girl whispers, and just like that even in the cacophony, they're in their own world, "you are a little insane-"

"Azzi-"

"But I like that you're a little insane," Azzi whispers, before booping Paige's nose and giving her a soft kiss, eliciting a shy smile from the older girl.

And really, if Azzi likes her being insane, Paige is prepared to be insane for a lifetime.

[turtletaubwrites]

Bend Until You Break ~ Part 1

Thank you for this request from the lovely @anemptypuddingcup for a Yandere!Law that the Reader goes to for help with a serious health condition, only for Law to take a liking to her... I swear I will write sweet Law one of these days, but for now please enjoy Yandere!Law. This contains !!DARK CONTENT!! so please check the warnings, and skip this one if it may be triggering or uncomfortable for you. This one's for us hypermobile baddies out there. 🥄

Pairings: YANDERE!Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Bend Until You Break ~ Masterlist

Word Count: 2679

Ao3 Link

Summary: You have struggled with mystery pains and injuries for most of your life, and had resigned yourself to suffer after every doctor told you there was nothing wrong. But when a world renowned doctor/pirate comes to town to offer aid in exchange for supplies, you decide to give hope one more chance. Maybe you'll finally find a doctor you can trust.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Dubious Consent, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Yandere, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Hypermobility, Medical Examination, Medical Trauma, Medical Conditions, Chronic Pain, Injury, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Doctor/Patient, Abuse of Authority, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to be Added, (Reader is described as having hair "above her shoulders" that she can brush)

A/N: This chapter is SFW, but I'm adding in many tags to start out with since this mini series will contain heavy/dark content. PLEASE heed the tags, and do not read this fic if you aren't comfortable with these topics. Some of these medical issues may or may not have come from personal experience 🙃

Extra A/N: I am not a doctor, and this is not meant to be educational, or to contain any health advice. Please seek a health professional. Hopefully you'll have better luck than Reader 🙄

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

I should just leave. He’ll just tell me the same things. It’s a waste of time. 

You were close to convincing yourself to walk away, especially as the discomfort and pain of standing in one place for so long started radiating up your body. 

The line got shorter, and you stretched and bounced, trying to hang onto a sliver of hope.

“Hello, how’s your day going?”

A talking polar bear in an orange jumpsuit waved at you from behind a small table, handing you a clipboard. 

“I-I’m well thanks. How…”

“Good! It’s always nice when the captain can help people. He’s the best! Just fill that out, and he’ll be with you soon.”

Looking at the form brought you out of the shock of speaking to a bear. Instead, it filled you with intense frustration, until you were practically boiling in your skin.

‘Rate your pain from 1-10.’

How the fuck am I supposed to rate all the different types of pain I’m in on any given day?

‘Circle the parts of the body where you are experiencing pain.’

I could put circles over so many things. Might as well circle the whole fucking chart, and have them call me a liar.

‘List your diagnoses, and family medical history.’

I don’t have one, doctors never find anything. Mom has some similar symptoms, but they're so mild that she's never tried to get a diagnosis. You’re the one who’s supposed to figure this out!

You resisted the urge to vent your anger onto the page, bullshitting your way through instead. You tried to write in the most convincing way to get this new doctor to take you seriously. 

This new doctor. “The Surgeon of Death.” A fucking pirate. 

But he was supposed to be the best, and he was here on your shitty little island for a couple of weeks, trading medical treatment for the town's supplies. You had already heard reports of “miracles,” that he could perform surgeries in an instant, that he could fix anyone. 

Please fix me.

This was it. You couldn’t take anymore trying after this. Just trying to get a doctor to listen to or believe you was almost worse than the daily pain. Almost.

“Miss Y/N? The captain is ready for you now. My name is Bepo, by the way,” the bear grinned as he took the clipboard from your clammy hands. At least you hoped it was a grin.

He handed the form back to you as he led you through the dimly lit hallways of this strange submarine. It felt like you’d entered some other realm, an underworld, on your way to strike a deal with a demon. 

As long as he can fix me…

“Here you are,” Bepo motioned as he opened a large metal door. “You’re in great hands.”

Hands. 

Hands were the first things you noticed as you entered the examination room. 

Those hands were tensed over the back of a rolling chair, gripping the thin padding as if waiting for you so he could sit down. 

Long fingers mesmerized you, tattoos etched along the back of each hand. And as you stepped into the well lit room, you saw the word “death,” spelled out across both sets of those fingers. 

The sound of his throat clearing snapped your eyes to his, your skin flushing as you realized he’d been speaking to you. 

As you realized how fucking gorgeous he was. His black hair looked a bit mussed, but it only added to the effect, along with his goatee, and his dark, pretty eyes.

Already more useful than my other doctors. Easy on the eyes. 

“May I look at your form, miss?”

‘Oh, of course,'' you stuttered, thrusting the paper toward him. “I’m Y/N.”

“Dr. Trafalgar. You can take a seat.”

Well, his bedside manner seems pretty standard, you thought with a small sigh, sitting down on the familiar crinkly paper covering the exam table. 

He circled behind you to close the door, and what sounded like a lock clicking into place had your heart rate spiking. 

“Stand up, please,” he said firmly, your form still unseen in his hand. 

“Oh, sorry. I thought you said–”

“Walk to the corner, and sit back down, please.”

His voice was unreal. You would have jumped through hoops for him anyway, praying that any doctor would listen. 

But his command seemed to curl into your brain, and you followed it immediately. 

“Why are you favoring that hip?”

“Oh, it…” 

Here’s where your credibility would fall apart. Your nails dug into your palms as you willed him to believe you.

“Sometimes if I stand too quickly, it feels loose. Sometimes it pops, and is so painful that I can’t put any weight on it.”

He stared at you for a moment, and you fought not to recite a list of excuses, to try to explain why it hurts when you’d never been injured before. 

“And your right knee?”

“Oh, it’s not bad right now. It used to swell sometimes, and was really painful. But it’s not as bad as it used to be.”

“Did you sustain any injuries?”

“N-No. None that I can recall.”

His lips quirked a bit before he reviewed your chart.

Believe me. Believe me. Believe me.

“You’ve reported your shoulders as being your most pressing concern. Why is that?”

His eyes were almost painfully sharp as he scanned you, focusing on your face as you answered him. He’d sat backwards on the rolling chair, his arms folded across the back with his legs spread wide to either side.

“They’ve been acting up recently. They often feel… loose. That’s how it feels to me. Sometimes if I move a certain way it almost feels like they pop out of place. But I can still move them after, it’s just incredibly painful. And then it’s weak, and I can barely hold anything.”

“What are some of the activities that have caused this to happen?”

He was impossible to read. But you couldn’t lie. He wouldn’t be able to help you if you lied.

“Um, brushing my hair. Taking off a jacket. P-Putting a sports bra on.”

“Did you used to have longer hair?”

“What?”

“Do you keep your hair above your shoulders to prevent shoulder pain? Or does brushing it still cause issues at this length?”

“Oh. Yes, actually. I used to have much longer hair.”

“I imagine you’ve adjusted many aspects of your life to cope with this pain.” 

Warmth flowed into that deep voice, and you shivered as you watched him steeple his fingers against his lips for a moment. 

“If you are comfortable, I would like to run through a few simple movements to check your flexibility. Many of which you can do on your own, but I will check in again if you are comfortable with me touching you for the others. You can always let me know if you would like to stop.”

“Okay.”

The doctor dug through a drawer to pull out a clear measuring device, almost like two rulers connected at one end. He adjusted it, creating an angle before setting it aside. 

He never picked up the device again, and you fought not to shake. He looked at your elbows, your knees, your thumbs, your pinkies, frowning slightly as you followed his instructions.

“Now, please bend over, and try to touch your toes. Just go as far as you– hm.”

Your palms were flat on the ground, just as they’d always been able to go. You could even put the back of your hands down, and stretch them along the ground behind you if you wanted to. 

“Doctor?”

“You can take a seat.”

Wincing as you sat, you shook out your legs, feeling his eyes as he watched your every movement. 

He stood, towering over you as he came close.

“For this next part of the examination, I will be touching you with my hands, and in some cases leaning or holding parts of your body against mine so that I can check the range of motion in your joints. I may also massage certain tight muscles to help you relax as we move through the problem areas. You have quite the list for us to get through, but if at any time you wish for us to stop, just let me know. Do you understand?”

“I do,” you breathed, your face angled up to meet his.

“Do you consent to me touching you?”

His voice came out softer once again, and you couldn’t hold in a shiver as you consented.

Those fingers…

His long fingers were so gentle as they crept across your body, testing, pushing, pulling. You fought to listen to his commands, pushing against or holding your body how he told you. 

“I imagine that seeking treatment has been challenging for you,” he rasped as he leaned over your face, his fingers gently massaging your shoulders. 

The pain and pleasure of his hands testing you had brought up a strangely emotional pressure, almost like tears in your throat.

“It has.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It must be incredibly difficult to suffer so much pain, and not be believed.”

You started to nod to keep your voice from cracking, but he pressed his fingers into your skin just a bit.

“Can you keep still for me,” he whispered, and it sounded so close that you opened your eyes.

“Just relax,” the doctor soothed as he stepped away, pulling a few tissues out to press against your cheeks and temples, catching the tears that had spilled when you’d opened your burning eyes.

“I’m sorry, doc–”

“No need to be sorry, Y/N. You have been suffering, been living with pain for years. It’s all those doctors that left you like this that should feel ashamed.”

His fingers had returned to your body, still relaxing, and testing.

“Thank you, doctor.”

“Please, call me Law.”

He was pressing gently along your collarbones as his name rolled over you, a small sound escaping your throat as you melted beneath him. 

“Do you have a good support system? People in your life that can help you with this?”

“I mean, my mom and my boyfriend help me. They’re supportive.”

He took those fingers away, and you mourned them, wishing you could feel that soothing touch forever.

“I’m going to test your hips now, Y/N. Please tell me if you experience any pain.”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling self conscious of your breathy voice. His words just kept pouring over you, his voice so relaxing, so good. 

“How does that feel, Y/N?”

“Fine.”

He had your leg stretched along his torso, your foot dangling over his shoulder. You clamped your eyes shut. The sight of him between your spread legs, pushing your leg toward you, had you biting your lip, trying not to make any more embarrassing noises. 

“How’s this?”

“Fine.”

He hadn’t gotten close to your limit, but he went agonizingly slow. You could feel his firm abs warming your thigh through your clothes, his thin shirt not doing much to keep the press of him at bay. 

“You said that your mom and your boyfriend support you. How do they do that?”

“Oh, uh,” you shook your head, trying to focus on the question, and not the gentle rocking motion he’d started as he pushed you even further.

“They help me when… They help me when I’m having bad days. They listen. They both do little different things when things are bad.”

“How’s this?”

“Still fine.”

“You can go further?”

“Yeah, I can–,” you had reached for your thigh, planning to pull it toward your chest to show him, but his eyes above you stopped you before his voice did. 

“I’ll get you there, Y/N. You can hurt yourself if you rush. Can you take it slow for me?”

“Perfect,” he praised when you nodded, still gently rocking your body forward and back as he pushed, finally reaching the limit. 

“That is quite the range of motion,” he noted, carefully laying that leg down to move to the other side. “May I?”

He set himself up again, moving slow as he used his body to stretch you.

“You said that they help you on bad days, is that right?”

Meeting his sharp eyes, you took a minute to understand.

“Yes, they do.”

His face tilted a bit as he pressed closer. He started that gentle rocking motion, almost thrusting against you to help your body relax. 

“But Y/N, from what I’ve seen today, it seems like all of your days are bad. Aren’t they?”

“I…”

“All these years with no one to believe you. It must be hard to believe yourself sometimes. Do you think they really believe you, Y/N? Do they believe how much pain you’re in as you struggle through each day? As you stand up too fast, or brush your hair? Do you think they understand?”

He’d pushed closer, looming over you as he held your thigh against him. 

“Why are you–”

“I need to make sure that my patients have the support systems they need.”

His voice had smoothed back now, from almost heated to cool and detached.

He’s the only person that’s ever seemed like they understand. He must believe me. Of course he would be passionate about it, he’s a doctor. A doctor that believes me.

Closer and closer, his eyes watching yours.

“Do they believe you?”

“I think,” you started, eyes wide as you fought more tears, “I think they try to believe me. They just… They don’t know what it’s like. They don’t understand.”

“How’s this?”

“It’s fine.”

“Alright, last push.”

Your thigh was pressed between your bodies, and he stayed there.

“Does this hurt, Y/N,” he rasped, his breath warming your face. 

“No.”

He helped you stretch your leg out on the table, sitting backwards in the rolling chair before he told you to sit up.

“I believe I understand the cause of your pain, and why you’ve had a difficult time obtaining a diagnosis.”

“Can you fix it?”

Your thrill of excitement got caught in your throat at the look in his eyes, his palm up to halt your questions. 

“I believe it may be a connective tissue disorder, which would explain your hypermobility, as well as the complications you’ve had with many parts of your body. You've already met the criteria for one type based on our examination today. I would like you to come back tomorrow so that we can review more of your symptoms to be sure, and to discuss treatments.”

“You can do surgery, right? Can you fix it?”

You had gestured to him, your body panicking with failing hope. A gasp left your throat as those tattooed fingers caught your hand, his thumb rubbing over your skin as his voice went low.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. This is not a condition that can be cured,” he confessed, squeezing your hand as your body slumped. “Connective tissues run throughout our entire body, and if I am correct, yours may be weaker than most. 'Loose,' as you said. Unfortunately, there is no known way to repair or replace those tissues.”

A weight fell over you, and you found yourself not quite in your body. Your body that you’d fought so hard to fix.

That can never be fixed.

The doctor pressed your hand between his, smoothing over and warming your fingers until you were present enough to meet his eyes.

“It may not be curable, Y/N, but it can be managed. You don’t need to suffer alone in such pain like you have been. I’ll do everything I can to ensure that things are better for you. Do you trust me?”

There was something so intense about his face. The way he looked at you felt heavy, like he really did see the weight you’d carried all these years. You sank into those gray eyes, and realized you did.

“I trust you, Doctor.”

“Please. Y/N,” he hummed, releasing your hand, “call me, Law.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Welcome to my frustration with the health care system 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

Part 2

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[peppermintquartz]

The second time Tommy meets Philip and Margaret is not under the best of circumstances.

Maddie is wrecked with worry, Jee is confused about why her daddy can't sleep at home and why her Uncle Buck isn't here, and Tommy himself is approximately three broken Kit-Kat bars from completely snapping.

So when the Buckley parents show up at the hospital, Tommy is not in the best of moods.

"Why are you here?" Margaret says when she sees him, instead of asking "How's my son?"

"Because I'm waiting for the outcome of the surgery," Tommy says, pretty curtly, but after fourteen hours following a full shift he is about to keel over. He's seated right now, having no further energy to pace, with his elbows on his knees, his head aching from the fluorescent lights and endless activity all around him, and his heart steeled against the worst possible outcome. "I mean, it's certainly not for the ambience."

"Maddie called and told us that Howard and Evan were in the building when it collapsed," Philip says before Margaret can react to the sarcasm. "We wanted to be here for Maddie."

"For Maddie, of course it's for her," Tommy says, and he is so beyond sick with worry that he can't force aside the irritation nor hide it with civility. "She's gone home with Jee-yun. I promised to keep her updated. If you're looking for her, I suggest doing so tomorrow morning when she's had hopefully at least an hour of sleep."

Margaret glances at the light above the operating theater doors and wrings her hands. "How long has it been? I can't bear this."

Tommy doesn't even look at his watch anymore. "Fourteen hours, thereabouts. Howie's just come out two hours ago."

A whole building. A three-storey building. Howie was on the top floor, so he was freed from the rubble first. Evan was on the ground floor. The 217 and the 124 had been on the scene, Tommy flying five casualties from the wreck directly to hospital, one of whom was his friend. All the while he had to internally battle the screaming need to claw apart the debris, with his bare hands if necessary, to get his Evan out of there.

Philip hugs Margaret. "He'll survive. He's always done so, since he was a kid. You know how it is with him. Scrapes and cuts and falls. He'll come out of this without trouble."

"I can't bear waiting here," Margaret whispers again. "You know I don't like..." She shuts her eyes and shakes her head.

"I know, I know it feels like it's Daniel inside, but it isn't."

And Tommy loses it.

Logically, he knows that Philip is merely trying to reassure his wife. Logically, he knows that they are trying; the mere fact that they are in hospital to check on Evan and Howie is a statement that they are trying.

Every other part of Tommy, however, explodes with incandescent rage.

"Daniel? Daniel?! Evan's in there, fighting for his life, and you can't even focus on that?" he spits out. "The only reason why I am even talking to you is because you made Evan. You brought him to this world. And you don't deserve him. Every day I see how much he loves, how openly and how bravely he loves, and to know that you both treated him the way you did... And now you come here, to the hospital, and you talk about being here for Maddie and, and thinking about Daniel, instead of your son who could've died today!"

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Tommy realizes that he's on his feet, his fists clenched, towering over two older persons who are shrinking away from his six foot two frame. Suddenly drained, Tommy licks his dry lips.

"Go see Howie," he says in a low voice. "You probably can't go in yet, but find out what you can to tell Maddie."

Philip clears his throat. "You'll let us know when Evan is out?"

"I'll call Maddie." Tommy sits again and stares at the wall opposite. Green. Dull, lifeless, bland hospital green. He hears the Buckleys walk away. "Philip, wait."

"Yes?"

"Sorry about the outburst. Also, you're supposed to call him Buck. Remember that."

Philip sighs again. "Of course. We'll see you later, when Ev- Buck is out of surgery."

[poppy-metal]

tashi being a driving force behind failmarriage au. feeling frustrated with art & his gorgeous darling wife ((probably hasnt examined the want thats simmering below the surface for the wife)).she’s probably checking insta more than art is, so bothered by the bratty behavior and the obvious posturing going on. she wants art to fight for you but he’s kind of heavily wallowing. so struck by the despair of being without you that he’s useless rn. she knows he needs a catalyst to spring him into action. so she meticulously keeping tabs on you and probably smth inside her (and hopefully art) snaps when they realise youre not wearing your ring anymore.

tashi's a mean bitch when she's pushed too far and i imagine at some point your game gets boring for her with all your little spiteful moves that she takes matters into her own hands. something to make you react, in some way, whether its negative or positive.

you get sent the video from arts phone - confused because he usually calls you - leaves you voice-mails - very few times he's sent you a video, usually of something he saw during the day that reminded him of you. you hover on clicking it, wondering if you're strong enough today to deal with it.

you do end up hitting play and -

the video starts out shaky, its hard to tell what's being shown, until a familiar chest comes into view - broad and toned and most importantly, bare - arts body. gleaming with sweat and his pecs heaving, pink nipples peaked. there's a slight sway to his body, he's clearly laying out on a bed - his long pale neck extended in a moan.

he's being ridden.

and the warm brown feminine hand trailing up his stomach is undeniably tashi's. fingernails finely pressed, she braces her palm right at the center of his chest, bracing, and the wet slaps of their flesh meeting can be heard. the angle is focused on arts face for a moment, eyes pressed tight like hes in pain, face flushed, lips parted. he looks tortured by bliss.

and then the camera pans down and there's a flash of tashi's thighs, caging around arts hips. she brings the view right to her cunt - where her pussy - toned and tight and beautiful - stretches obscenely wide around arts pink cock. she rocks there and then her thighs tense, her moan high pitched and dirty as she cums around him.

the camera shakes again and you hear her giggle at arts whimper and then the view is clear and she's holding - a fleshlight, "i tried to find her skintone," tashi's voice crackles through the video, "you'll have to tell him if its close to her actual pussy."

you realize she specifically bought a toy with your complexion - she poises the tip of the plastic lips around arts wet cock - the tip gleaming with fluid. "oh fuck." art says, and he bucks his hips. tashis hand comes down, squeezes his pale thigh as she continues to tease his cockhead. "tashi thats - oh my god -"

"that's not who you're about to fuck." tashi croons. the lips of the toy flare apart lewdly the more she teases it down on arts thick crown. "pretend its her pussy. thats who you want with you right here, right now, hm? your sweet wife with her tight little pussy - is she tight art? do you miss it?"

arts cock is straining. it doesn't need to be held aloft - bobbing straight up and throbbing with blood - you can make out the delicate veins underneath - his balls hang heavy between his thighs which are twitching with restraint barely contained.

"tell me." tashi says. doesn't ask.

arts hips jump - he slides inside the toy a small inch and groans brokenly. "s-so tight. shes so tight. god, she takes my dick so fucking good - " tashi lets him buck up, feeding more and more of himself into the silicone cunt. her hand steadies against his thigh as he jerks, overwhelmed. "i wanna fuck her - i wanna fuck her -"

tashi chuckles again, rubs her thumb soothingly over his skin. "its sweet of you to ask, baby, but you dont need my permission right now - how would you fuck your wife, if she was here, hm? how do you want to fuck her?"

the gasp art lets out is airy and his legs splay open more, he knees coming up as he braces his feet against the bed.

its sudden and nearly violent the way he begins slamming up into the toy. tashi has to adjust her grip around the base of it so it doesn't go flying off his dick from the force of his sudden eager thrusts upward. his hips jackrabbit into the sticky plastic depths - the synthetic sloshing of the pussy around his cock wet and lewd as his balls slap against it.

"oh god." art groans. his stomach is concaved, he's thrusting so fast and brutal the bed starts to shake. "oh fuck - give me that pussy - that fucking cunt - fuck i need it - need to fuck her so bad, i need it, i need it -"

"treat it like she's here." tashi encourages, breathless. excited. "talk to her. shes bouncing on your dick art - she's taking you so good - just like shes meant to -"

"god, god, god, - never letting you leave me again. fuck! gonna keep you - gonna keep you on this dick forever, gonna fucking breed you - make you stay - fuck, im gonna cum inside you -"

"fill her up" tashi goads, "make her take that pounding dicks cum. deep inside that little wife pussy."

art sounds like hes sobbing - moaning wetly. slapping his hips up nearly bouncing the toy on and off his dick - his thighs clench, the muscles in them flexing as his movements stutter.

"shit - shit - " he calls your name. your name. your name. over and over again. "i fucking love you, oh my god, yes - take it take it take it take it all -"

tashi holds the toy over his cock as he fills it. his balls twitch and throb as they empty. she slowly glides the pocket pussy off of him and thick rivers of white drip back down him, running down his sack.

"woah" tashi breathes. "all that for her? you must really wanna knock her up - babytrap her."

arts cock twitches.

you close the video.

a text pings after.

when you touch yourself to this later remember the only one stopping you from having him is yourself - T.

[channieismyboy]

chanel chance

{dilf!seonghwa x f!reader}

synopsis: How can y/n endure living with Mr. Park for 3 days when all she can think about is him... and he's nowhere to be found

masterlist | chanel chance - part 4

warnings: this one has some small spice (blink and you'll miss it), age difference (y/n is 21, seonghwa is 29), eventual smut, kind of slow burn, sad attempts at humor

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

"Stay with me," I uttered without even fully realizing what I had just said. I can see the slightly shocked expression plastered on her face, doe eye widening, did i go too far?

"I really can't. I don't wish to intrude like that." she says waving her hands nervously in the air while giving a small sheepish smile. Why did I ask her to stay with me? Why is she nervous around me? I cock my head to the side and shrug.

"Unless you have anyone else to turn to, I'm your best bet Ms. L/n. You won't be intruding anyway. I'm not uncomfortable with it and I think Jieun would be delighted to have you over for 3 days." Hopefully this can convince her more.

She exhales while blushing slightly. What is going on inside her mind? And why does she look so cute thinking to herself? I can't be thinking these things right now...

"I'll stay with you."

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

It's been decided. You will be staying at Mr. Park's home. You begin to think about what might occur when staying with him, still shocked at his unexpected kindness.

You arrive at your apartment building after driving for about 30 minutes. Most of the ride was spent on call with both your uncle and aunt explaining the situation. As Mr. Park drives closer to the building you see many fire trucks and police cars located around it. The scene bustling with people going in and out of the building holding suitcases and various bags.

"This must be your place right?" he states the obvious, eyes still on the scene.

"Yeah, it's no mansion," you laugh awkwardly. "Alright, I'll be right back. Just give me about 20 minutes and I'll be done packing," you state while exiting the car. "Let me help you," he says while swiftly leaving the car and promptly joining your side. Once again, you can't say no to the man.

You enter the building, trying to get through the commotion. It's a short walk to your floor. You reflect on your differing lifestyles on the way there. How modest and humble your life is compared to his extravagant way of life. You feel slightly embarrassed that Mr. Park is accompanying you as he now gets a more intimate glimpse into how you live.

"This is it," you say while unlocking the door to your apartment, getting a small peek inside of it. Your eyes widen and you realize that your place is a complete mess. Since your roommate left, there have been many leftover boxes scattered around your place. You don't need Mr. Park to see just how messy your place can get. However, you can't just leave a goddamn ceo waiting outside. You quickly close the door and face Mr. Park. "Uhm, why don't you wait out here for a sec?". He nods in agreement.

Luckily he agreed. "I won't be long," you say then slip inside and immediately scramble to make the place somewhat clean. Stuffing whatever junk you don't need in a distant closet, and cleaning the kitchen counter of any leftover pots and pans. Once you deem the place tidy you open the door for him slightly out of breath. "Please come in."

Mr. Park enters and walks with his hands in his pockets while looking around. You double check to make sure you didn't forget to put away something. "Can I offer you anything, Mr. Park? Tea? Coffee? Water?"

He smiles at your cute attempt at welcoming him. "Sure, I'll take some water," he says and places himself at the small kitchen island. You grab one of your nicer cups, reaching for it as it's on the top shelf, since you never use them. You can feel his stare on you.

Mr. Park's eyes glance at your frame, eyeing you while reaching for a glass and glances at your skirt that is now slightly ruffled up. It barely exposes where the black stockings you're wearing ends, he can't look away, he eyes the lace detail and the straps attached to it. You look so beautiful and- Whoa. He needs to stop thinking about this. Mr. Park averts his gaze and stares at the floor beside him with a faint blush on his cheek.

You place the glass water with two ice cubes in it, in front of him. Mr. Park clears his throat slightly and thanks you kindly while staring at you directly in the eyes. "I'll just be in the other room packing," you say while heading to your room.

Was that? You think it was... A faint blush on Mr. Park's cheeks? Maybe you were imagining it. However, you could've sworn you just saw it...

You grab the biggest suitcase you can find and begin to pack your things. Shirts, bras, underwear, pants, socks, pajamas. All the necessities, neatly folded and placed into your suitcase, cleaning up and closing the opened drawers as you go. You place your skincare in there as well. Then you pack your backpack with your laptop, textbooks and pencil case, along with a variety of chargers. You swear you're forgetting something and look around and then spot your perfume bottle. As you reach for it you hear Mr. Park speak.

"I adore that scent you know; it goes well with you." he says while leaning against your door frame, you smile at his compliment. Why does this man always lean against things? It makes him look too good.

"Really? When I first smelled it, I knew I had to get it. Even though it would make me broke," you said while carefully packing it.

"Looks like you're running low," Mr. Park points out. While staring at the near empty bottle.

"Yeah, I'll have to stop by the store again. Hopefully when I have enough saved up."

You close up the suitcase and place it down on the floor. You reach for your backpack and then head to carry your suitcase, but you notice it's gone. Then you see it's already in Mr. Park's hands and he's reaching our for your backpack.

"Oh no it's really okay, Mr. Park. You do not have to carry my things." you say.

"But I want to Ms. L/N, that's why I'm here." he says and he grabs the backpack out of your arms and heads out of your apartment, leaving a dazed and flushed you inside. You take a moment to recollect and then exit the apartment, locking it behind you before walking with him back down to the lobby. You observe Mr. Park carrying your things with ease, swiftly walking down the stairs with them. You're quite shocked at that. You wouldn't be able to do it as calmly as him, needing some breaks in between steps to catch your breath. He's even holding the suitcase with one hand. It's nice of him to carry your things. He really did own up to his word, you remark.

You both reach his car and you tells you to enter the vehicle. You do, and wait for him to join you after he finishes placing your belongings in the trunk.

All of this is odd to you. You can't believe what is happening to you, and how nice Mr. Park is treating you. Maybe because it's late in the night, but you can't help but feel that Mr. Park might want you around him and intends to keep you close. No, no. You shake your head at your internal thoughts. Mr. Park is just trying to help someone out in need. He barely even knows you. He's just being polite. That's all, right?

The ride to his place is spent listening to the rain from the storm. Suddenly Mr. Park receives a call from one of his coworkers. He glances at you, almost for permission to take the call. You nod eagerly, signaling for him to accept the call.

Mr. Park sounds so different while conversing with his coworker. His tone is more serious and his aura completely shifts compared to that with his daughter. His voice is stern and somewhat commanding. He truly sounds like a ceo. He's dedicating himself to his work by accepting calls even out of working hours. You wonder just how many hours of the day and how many years of his youth he's sacrificed, to get to where he is right now.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

You're currently situated in the nicest guest room you've ever seen in your life. It has modern decorations and beautiful long windows overlooking the huge well-kept garden. You see a pretty array of lilac flowers and they look nice even in the nighttime. You plop on the bed and exhale. You reach for your phone and notice just how late it is. It's almost 12:30 AM. You then see many notifications from Minho and Jisung.

You spring up and realize you have much to share with them. You quickly send them many audios of you explaining what happened to you tonight. You then switch into your pajamas do your skincare while unpacking a few of your belongings into the nearby closet and set your alarm to wake up at 10:30 AM. You have two classes tomorrow and the earliest one starts at 12:30, but you don't want to be a bad guest and sleep in.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

After showing Ms. L/n her room and biding her a good night, I head to my room.

I still can't believe I told her to stay with me. Without a second thought I just blurted it out. I've never done anything like this before. Many of my female coworkers always ask to stay at my place, but I never allowed it, besides Laura. So why her? She's been on my mind non-stop, ever since I first laid eyes on her I felt a shift in myself, like something inexplicable was occurring inside me. Only one thing can be causing this. I feel my heartbeat quicken and my face flush. Do I have feelings for y/n?

I mean sure, she's gorgeous, anyone can see that. But she's also kind and adorable and the way she smiles makes my heart- oh god. I shake my head as I pace around in my room. Okay, maybe I'm just tired, I think while starting to wash my face, prepping for bed. I recall thinking the same exact things about y/n just a few nights ago.

I can't have feelings for her, I barely know her, I think while washing my face. Plus she's my coworker's daughter and Jieun's babysitter, I can't have feelings for her. However, the more I interact with her, the more she stays on my mind. I reach a towel and dry my face.

I head towards the bed and lay on it, staring at the ceiling, I feel a sense of deja vu. The only way to stop her from being on my mind is not not interact with her as much. How can I do that when she's living in my own home!? I'll just stay at work for as long as possible, until her apartment is ready. That way I won't think of her and all will be okay, I nod to myself. Yes, that will work.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

The next day you did not see Mr. Park at all. Not getting the chance to thank him yet again for allowing you to stay with him and Jieun. Your day was quite relaxing and you even got the chance to properly converse with Laura. She's so attentive and caring, you can tell that she genuinely enjoys taking care of Mr. Park's daughter. Heading to your afternoon lecture took a little longer as Mr. Park lives further away for your campus than you apartment, however you managed to arrive and head back safely. Still no sight on Mr. Park. You wonder if this is a normal occurrence as not even little Jieun is fazed by this, she is still her happy-go-lucky self and even more eggar to spend time with you. The day ended with a long call with Minho and Jisung, mouths wide open as you tell them all the details of last night.

-

The next day also passed calmly, the only thing missing yet again was Mr. Park. You swear you never even seen him enter the house or leave since almost two nights ago. You have one more night at Mr. Park's residence and then you are clear to head back into your apartment. You feel quite saddened by the fact you haven't interacted with Mr. Park and you also feel sad for poor Jieun, she seems to be missing her father dearly. As exemplified by the small tantrum she threw a few hours ago.

The day passes similarly to yesterday, attending your lectures, catching up on assignment, and spending time with Laura and Jieun. Laura reminds you of what a grandmother would be like, gentle, nurturing and force feeding. You don't think you can have anymore freshly baked bread she has made, but her face while handing you the next bowl makes you say otherwise. Laura shares a few details with you about Mr. Park. You learn that he does not have much family besides his mother and father. The fact that they are divorced when he was at a young age also affected him while being a lonely child.

You realize that you do in fact barely know much about Mr. Park and his life. You wish you could pry Laura some more and ask additional question about him, but you decide against it. No matter how much he makes your heart skip a beat he's your boss, gotta keep it professional.

The night quickly approaches and you're on the phone with Minho and Jisung at 2:25 AM, which is a big part of your nighttime routine.

"So you miss him?" Minho states after you explain Mr. Park's sudden disappearance. "No I do not," you say unconvincingly. Luckily Minho is still awake to chat with you before he goes to sleep, unlike a snoring Jisung also in the bed with Minho. "Sure, and pigs can fly," he quips back. The call ends soon and you decide to sleep but head to the kitchen to take a cold water bottle from the fridge to help quench your late night thirst. You make your way to the kitchen in just your small pajamas, a tight tank top with some shorts that are just a smidge too short. You figure no one would be up at this hour so you skip changing your garments.

You hear some clatters coming from the kitchen and inside the dark room illuminated via a small overhead lamp, you're face to face with Mr. Park in a tight tank top and some pajama pants. You freeze your tracks and just look into his eyes as he does the same.

When did he get here?

-

a/n: im having sm fun writing this yall!! i had to speed up some of the events in this chapter to get to where i want the plot to thicken and develop. it will get more intense soon i promise! love you guysss

Tagslist: @miamyre @flowersiinherhaiir @vvsmydiamonds127 @prodsh00ky @jhmylove @sunwoosberrie @jenotation @seonghwasstar @zwiehe @nagadiluc @kodzukein @heavenly-mobo @nevieatiny @smeetb0ne3 @yeosxxx @koalakoala8 @imalildelulu @sookacc @lunaa2210 @asjkdk @wal-nutt @iheartyeonjunnn @yoonsanbin @ateez-atiny380 @noiiny @slutologyy @discombobulatedrat @nopension

i may have not added everyone, if you wanted to be on the tagslist and you are not here, pls lmk so i can fix it next time!

[elliesfavbae]

Summer camps and dead mouses, Part 1 SERIES

Summer camp with enemies to lovers Ellie Williams

part 2, part 3, part 4

synopsis: This summer, instead of rotting at home like you used to every summer , you decide to try something new. You go to a summer camp and you meet many new people, mostly friendly, except one being extremely mean.

pairing: mean!Ellie Williams x reader

warnings: use of y/n, reader is assigned to a room with girls, swearing, Ellie being a bitch:(

wc: 4000

School is over for the summer, finally. There will be so much free time you won’t even know what to do with it. 

That’s how it usually was like. You would spend two months staying at home, not going anywhere, while your friends are traveling all over the world.

You wanted this year to be different. You decided to do something with it and it landed on a summer camp. It’s something new, you’ve never been to one and hopefully, you’ll like it.

You’re nervous as your parents drop you off at the parking lot, where the bus is supposed to pick you and many other teens up.

As your parents drop you off at the parking lot where the bus will pick you up, you can't help but feel nervous. The warm early summer air hits your face as you open the car door, and you see other teens milling around. Some look friendly, while others seem a bit intimidating. Your heart races with a mix of excitement and stress as you say goodbye to your parents, who seem surprisingly calm about leaving you with strangers for the summer, opposite from you

.

You find an empty seat on the bus and settle in, only to have a blonde girl named Olivia sit next to you.

 She's your age and super kind, and you end up chatting with her for the entire five-hour ride. Knowing at least one person at camp already makes you feel a lot better.

As the bus pulls up to the camp surrounded by trees, you catch a glimpse of a hidden lake in the distance. Despite your nerves, the camp looks promising. 

You enter through a metal gate and park near other buses, realizing there are a lot of kids here.

Stepping off the bus with Olivia, you take a deep breath of the fresh pine-scented air. It feels like summer. The counselors are gathered nearby, ready to help with anything you need. The adventure is just beginning.

People start to take out their luggage and you follow them. The camp staff is quick to introduce themselves and lead you to the cabins. They divide you into kids and teens, luckily these age groups will be living separately.

You stroll alongside your new friend, pleased to discover you'll be sharing a room. The cabins are spacious wooden houses divided into four sections, each accommodating five people. Each segment in the cabin is assigned to a few counselors.

Entering your new temporary home, it’s not as daunting as you imagined. When you heard the camp was nestled deep in the woods, you immediately thought of bugs and other creepy creatures, but you haven’t encountered any yet, at least not until now.

However, that was about to change. Upon entering the bathroom in your room, you spot a lifeless mouse on the floor.

“What the heck?!” You exclaim, and the other girls rush over, joining in your shrieks. None of you dare to touch the rodent, leaving it there as your screams continue. Your outcry draws a girl from the neighboring segment, who checks out the commotion.

Through the wooden door comes the girl, her toned arms and short auburn hair catching your attention first. She appears irritated by the noise, with furrowed brows on her freckled face.

“What’s with all the yelling?” She sighs, entering the bathroom and noticing the dead mouse. “Are y’all afraid of a little mouse? Come on.” She scoffs, using a paper towel to remove the rodent and dispose of it safely. With that, she disappears behind the door.

You exchange confused looks with your new roommates. After a moment, laughter erupts. That was certainly a strange first impression. And the girl who came to your rescue didn’t seem particularly… friendly.

As the evening settles, you get to know your roommates better: Leah, Emma, Mia, Isabella, and of course, Olivia. After a quick dinner and shower, you settle into bed, reflecting on the whirlwind of a day.

But sleep eludes you. The events of the day replay in your mind: saying goodbye to your parents, the bus ride, meeting all these new girls, and the incident with the mouse... and that peculiar girl who barged into your room.

Glancing around the dimly lit room, illuminated only by moonlight, you notice the others are deep asleep already. Deciding not to disturb them further, though still wide awake, you close your eyes, lulled by the deep, slow breaths and the distant chirping of crickets.

The next morning, the alarm jolts you awake. Blinking, you take a moment to remember where you are.

You need to be up by 7 for roll call and breakfast before 8. Rushing with your roommates, you step outside, feeling the cold morning breeze against your face, prompting a quick return for a hoodie. You walk across the dewy grass in flip-flops, your feet are wet, but despite the early hour and chill, there’s something captivating about summer mornings like this.

Gathering in the central square surrounded by cabins, you observe the other campers with curiosity. They all seem a bit groggy; some faces are familiar from yesterday’s bus ride. You also spot the auburn-haired girl who dealt with the mouse, her expression still bitchy. She’s conversing with another girl who looks equally unapproachable. Great. Hopefully, first impressions can be misleading.

The head counselor, Mr. Anderson, introduces himself and outlines the camp’s schedule. You learn about the daily routine: choosing three activities—either water or land-based—breakfast at 8 a.m., lunch at 1 p.m., dinner at 6 p.m., and two hours of free time after each meal. Evenings are capped with group activities like campfires or movies. Each cabin forms a group, sharing meals and a counselor.

After Mr. Anderson’s briefing, murmurs arise.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Mr. Anderson interjects sternly. “You’re not children anymore, and we won’t tolerate any disobedience. Curfew will be moved up to 9:30 p.m. from its current 10:15 p.m. if you misbehave; being late, being loud after the curfew. So, 10:15 is the time you’re supposed to be in beds, maybe not sleeping already, but at least quiet and ready for sleep”

The murmur grows louder but subsides quickly as the campers begin choosing their activities for the day. Most activities have limited spots, making it challenging to decide, but you settle on arts and crafts, archery, and kayaking, often joined by Olivia and occasionally your other roommates.

Afterward, the crowd disperses for breakfast.

“Sure, like I’m in bed by 10:15 every night,” Olivia chuckles as you head toward the dining hall.

“I don’t know, Mr. Anderson sounded pretty serious,” you scratch your head.

“Oh, come on, this is my sixth summer here. Unless you get caught, you’re fine,” she playfully punches your arm.

“I suppose…” you reply.

“But yeah, if you do get caught, you’re in trouble,” she adds after a pause.

“Have you ever got busted?”

“Once, from all of the five summers I’ve been here. Yeah, Mr. Stick-up-his-ass-Anderson made me clean the toilets. And all I did was sneak out to meet a girl after curfew,” Olivia rolls her eyes at the memory. “At least I didn’t get kicked out.”

“Yeah…”

At the dining hall, a large room with windows overlooking the lake, you find yourselves at a wooden table with your roommates. The food—scrambled eggs and sandwiches—is decent, that’s what the other girls at the table say too.

After breakfast, you return to your cabin, a quarter-mile trek through the camp. This distance might be problematic if you ever run late for a meal.

It’s twenty minutes before your first activity, it’s a land-based one that requires no change of clothes, so you take a stroll around camp with Olivia. Familiar with the layout, she points out various spots, including a secluded spot hidden among bushes.

“...Over there, there’s a hidden spot for, um, trysts.” Blonde haired girl points at something that at first looks just like wild bushes, but as you take a closer look, you notice a small path and a clearing in the plants and you make a realizing “ohh” sound. You walk closer and after you make your way through the bushes, you arrive at the alcove, it’s nothing really special. It’s a clearly frequented place looking at the trampled grass surrounded by tall bushes. At least it’s secluded and well hidden. There’s even a small bench in the middle.

Despite everything, it looks quite romantic.

“I don’t think any counselors know about this place, not even most of the campers. That’s good because not many people will interrupt you in… whatever you’re doing here. But yeah, the unwritten rule of this place says it’s a date place rather than an individual’s hideout.”

Olivia sits down on the bench and sighs with relief “If you ever go there, don’t get caught, ‘cause you’ll blow up the spot for every camper” She looks at you with a serious expression on her face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful” You try to sound honest, because you actually mean it.

“That’s the place I was heading to that one time when the main counselor caught me after curfew, but fortunately he still isn’t aware of the spot” She says with a mysterious smirk on her face and gets out of the bushes, back to reality. 

“So, that’s what people mean anytime they tell you to meet “In the Bushes’” 

And after that, you head back to the cabin with your friend, just to arrive at the main square a few minutes later for the assembly. 

You leave with your group for the first activity, arts and crafts. The one and a half hours pass surprisingly fast and you are left with a half-finished friendship bracelet after.

********************************************

Archery leaves you with a similar experience, it passed by really fast in the company of a young counselor and other campers, whom you even managed to get to know better during the pastimes.

It’s after lunch already, you’re hanging out with the people you met at archery in one of the rooms. Olivia is there, too, but you notice she’s looking a little pale.

“Are you alright?” You lower your voice as you ask her.

“Yeah, I’m alright, it’s just… I got my period before lunch today and the painkillers won’t work…” But she doesn’t look alright and it seems like she comes to the same conclusion “Sorry guys, I feel really sick and I think it’s better if I lay down” And she quickly disappears from the room and you follow her.

You spend the rest of the lunch break in your cabin, keeping Olivia company. Despite an hour passing, the painkillers still offer no relief, forcing her to miss the last activity—kayaking. It was the only one you planned to do without your roommates except Olivia, leaving you alone on the water.  It’s not her fault, obviously you’re not mad at her, but you’re leaving the cabin accompanied by her apologies anyway.

Gathering again for the afternoon assembly, you join the kayaking group forming in the square. Scanning the group, you spot the auburn-haired girl from the previous day, without her stern-looking friend. You don’t approach her, though.

Arriving at the lakeside, you’re struck by the array of water sports equipment. You eagerly anticipate trying everything during your month-long stay, but for now, it’s kayaks. You hoped to get a single kayak, but you’re disappointed to find only tandem kayaks left, you hesitate until the counselor pairs you with Ellie—the auburn-haired girl.

“This is Ellie, I’m sure she will be happy to share a kayak with you” You take a quick look at Ellie. Her expression looks like everything except happiness. 

“I’m y/n” Beside her attitude, you decide not to give up from the start. “Have you kayaked before?” 

“Yeah” It’s all you get from her before she turns and walks away to get her life jacket. 

“Can you get one for me?” You yell to her but she either doesn’t hear you, or she pretends like she doesn’t. More likely the second option, you think.

You follow her to get a life jacket and a paddle yourself and when you come back to the kayak, you notice she’s holding two paddles, one seemingly for you.

“Bro, I thought it was obvious I’m bringing an extra paddle for you” She says grumpily and sighs with a “are-you-seriously-that-stupid” expression on her face. And no, it wasn’t obvious since she ignored your request earlier. Did she do all that on purpose? Whatever.

You bring your paddle back to the warehouse and finally you get in the boat with her. All of the other teams have already taken their boats onto the water. Ellie gets the seat on the back since she looks stronger with her toned arms than you. You have to admit, she’s attractive, but that’s where her good traits end. How can someone so attractive be that much of a bitch? Maybe she’s having a bad day, or two, you say to yourself.

“And where did you lose your friend?” You want to know more about the girl you’ve seen her with earlier.

“And where is yours?” She cuts the chat. 

On second thought, you don’t even care, you say to yourself. You paddle along with her, you are quick to catch up with the rest of the group. You look around to see all of the pairs happily chatting while Ellie and you haven’t exchanged a word since you got into the boat.

“So” You clear your throat “Thanks for clearing that mouse yesterday from our room” That's the first topic that comes to your mind after paddling for ten minutes.

“So that was your room? Oh God, I did that only so you would shut up, seriously, that was just a little mouse, not even a rat”

Oh. You don’t even answer her, again. 

The rest of the swim is spent rather in silence except the time when you accidentally splashed her with water and even though you quickly apologized, she still attacked your ears with a “Ow, what the fuck?!”. 

Unlike the previous activities, this one drags on, especially when you see all of the other people having fun with their kayak partners. You just enjoy nature, the greenish water around, you can feel the smell of the lake and you can hear the birds chirping. The sun is strong, its heat mercilessly hits the top of your head, you should’ve worn a cap.

The counselor announces that it’s time to head back to the port and you sigh in relief. Finally.

After twenty minutes of silent paddling, you arrive at the coast and get the boat out of the water and up on the platform. You put almost no effort in doing it, though, because Ellie handles it easily. After she’s done, she hands you her paddle not even looking at you and she quickly leaves to help with the other kayaks. Is she suddenly nice or what? But then you realize, the only person she’s helping is the counselor, trying so hard to flex her muscles. Whatever. The counselor’s name is Amy, she’s pretty young for a staff here, the most you’d give her is 19 years. All of the campers are ready and waiting for her, already put their life jackets and paddles away, but she’s busy watching Ellie.

"Can we go back to our rooms now, Amy?" you ask, breaking through the counselor's fixation on Ellie.

"Yeah," Amy responds absentmindedly, still watching Ellie's every move. With that, you and the other campers head back to the cabins.

You go back to your room, Olivia is the only one there. You throw yourself on your bed next to hers and sigh.

“I wanted to ask how it was, but it doesn’t look like it was well” Olivia looks at you.

“Yeah… And how are you?” You look at the girl, concerned.

“I’m better now, I think I’ll even join you for dinner” She sits on the bed and turns to face you, you do the same “So, how was kayaking?”

“Well, remember that girl who took the mouse out of our bathroom yesterday? So I had to share a kayak with her because I had no one else to be paired with and she was such a bitch” You sigh once again. You want to say more but you realize you should be at dinner already. You quickly leave and walk to the dining hall as fast as you can without triggering Olivia’s stomach ache. You pick up the tray and food and sit next to your new friends from your room. 

“I heard rumors that tonight's evening event is the Assassin game” Leah, a roommate of yours, speaks up between chewing her food.

“Ooh, I love it” Olivia responds enthusiastically.

You like it too especially tonight, frustration filling your soul after kayaking resulting in a need to spend the accumulated energy on something.

And you have a person you’ll especially hunt for this evening. The source of your anger.

You quickly finish eating with your friends and give the tray back to the kitchen. You walk to your cabin, the sun is slowly setting down, painting the sky so beautifully, the orange light covers the camp in a warm orange glow. There’s something nostalgic about warm sunsets like this, they always make you feel peaceful deep inside of you and help your brain drift with memories away to your childhood.

Right, that reminds you of home. You’d like to talk with your parents, but every camper’s phone was taken away right after they got off the bus, fortunately they are given back every Wednesday and Saturday for an hour to call everyone you need and go back to the normal life, at least for a quick while. But looking around, you rather doubt there is any signal here, not even mentioning Wi-Fi.  

You change into long sweats in case the evening gets chilly, you still have almost two hours before the eventide activity, probably the Assassin game. The time passes quickly though, playing cards with other campers and before you realize, it’s time for the assembly on the main square. You quickly drag your new friends there, careful not to be late. You don’t want to piss out the main counselor.

However, Ellie seems to want the exact opposite. As everyone is already waiting, gathered together, one camp counselor reports the absence of one of his campers.

Five minutes pass, main counselor’s face begins to turn tomato-color. Everyone else is pissed off too, the director doesn’t want to speak up unless everybody is there.

Finally, five more minutes pass and the auburn-haired girl appears in your sight, slowly walking over from her cabin, always wearing this sassy smirk on her face. God, can’t she ever act, maybe, not like a total bitch? 

As if nothing has happened, she joins her group.

“Come over here, right now!” The main counselor is furious, pointing at her with his finger.

“Who, me?” She asks stupidly

“Don’t be stupid” He raises his trembling voice. Ellie walks over to him, hands in her pockets, standing in the center of the assembly. “What is your name?”

“Williams” She responds calmly.

“Williams is going to clean up the horse stable tomorrow morning instead of the first activity” This creates commotion among the crowd, some people laughing, some people whispering to each other “Silence!” The man yells and the frightened crowd immediately goes silent.

“Since it’s your first… offense that’s all you get. But I won’t be so nice the next time”

“Okay.” That’s all she responds, walking back to her group.

The director clears his throat

“Okay, since, finally, everyone is present now, I’ll explain the rules. Everyone gets a lanyard with their name attached to it. Your task is to steal everyone else’s tag from them and to keep yours on your neck. If you steal someone’s tag, they die. The dead person also passes all of the tags they stole from the people before. The goal is to live and get all of the tags. 

Now, you will pick up the tag and when I say, you have five minutes to hide”

You take the paper with your name and you put the lanyard on your neck.

“Olivia, do you want to hide together?” 

“No way, there’s no teaming in this game!” And she runs away. Okay, so you have to act alone.

Your first thought is to hide in the Bushes, the spot Olivia showed you earlier, but you assumed someone else definitely thought of that before.

Then you look around for Ellie, because you want to get revenge on her for pissing you off all day today, but she’s nowhere to be seen. You look up, in the sky, and an idea pops up in your head.

You start walking to the lake, the view of the water and sunset will definitely be amazing and once the sun sets, you will start killing people.

You breathe in the warm summer air as you get closer to the lake, you see it from afar and it already looks amazing. 

You hear people screaming and running past you, looking for a place to hide, but you stick to your plan. You find a well hidden spot behind the boathouse, perfect to sit down and enjoy the view. The big lake surrounded by trees is perfectly mirroring the previously orange, now pink sky.

A while passes, the sun quickly falls to the horizon and the sky gets darker and darker every second. You hear the birds singing their last songs of the day before they fall asleep, crickets chirping, occasionally people screaming and laughing in the back. It’s so nice here, but you remember the game, you can’t ruin the fun and hide here forever. And you have a very specific prey to catch.

And as if on cue, when you slowly leave your spot, you notice the girl with auburn hair nearby, her back facing you. Perfect.

[merakiui]

we know and love our breeding obsessed tweels .. but there’s an obvious candidate whom I haven’t seen given much attention.. and it’s our favourite apple <3

back in harveston, it’s been mentioned how there isn’t much youngins around .. apart from epel and his cousin .. but in terms of ppl his age??? 0 … so it’d be easy for his family to talk him into stuffing you full and getting you pregnant when you come visit one day… you don’t know that epel secretly introduced you to his family as his wife .. and that the analytical eyes they give you and your body was bcs they wanted to see just how many kids you could handle birthing naturally at a time… truly terrifying how they put this much thought into the time you need to rest before being full with his baby again .. bcs they don’t do hospitals but instead the women in the family use their knowledge (midwivery) to advise you </3

aa just the thought of epel and his family peer pressuring you into giving them kids and continuing the family line has you feeling all guilty </3 like it doesn’t matter what u want bcs you’d be doing it for the betterment of the village! how they convince u that eventually, when u become a mother, you’d find happiness that comes w it .. (silly reader … your choice and wants never even mattered in the first place! bcs if you showed resistance they’d just drug u and put u to sleep w epel’s unique magic and get u pregnant anyways </3)

truullyyy terrifying! beware of dear grandma’s sad puppy dog eyes knowing u refuse to give her great-grandkids! (lies … she knows what she’d doing </3)

also! can I be epel felmier anon? 🍎💜

OMG THE SOMNO POTENTIAL WITH EPEL'S UM........ how could I have missed it,,, it's literally called Sleep Kiss. T_T uuuwaaaa Epel wanting to practice his UM and you agree to let him practice it on you because surely it won't have any negative impacts, right? But he puts you to sleep and somno ensues...... or he puts you to sleep and the other first years are around as well. >_< you're like a practice pussy for them......

If anyone's going to gaslight and manipulate you into having children, it's all of Harveston. ;;;;; and most of them do it unintentionally. They just think it's so darling Epel has a best friend (read: wifey) like you who is the sweetest thing they've ever met. You and Epel make such a cute couple (of hopefully expecting parents). All of Harveston dotes on you, showering you with affection every time you visit. You're practically part of the village by now. Whenever you come to visit, whether for a holiday or a break, Marja always welcomes you with open arms, as does the rest of Epel's family. But it's Marja who is especially pleased to see you. She checks you over, asks if you've been eating well at NRC, asks if Epel's been looking out for and taking care of you, and so on.

I feel like the entire village would throw such a huge celebration when you finally become pregnant. They make such an event out of it; it startles you at first, but Epel explains this is just because there are so few children around and everyone, especially the elders, are so very excited to finally see the village grow and become more lively with young folks! You'll have everyone's full support before, during, and after your pregnancy! They are just so fond of you and are always encouraging you to eat lots (of foods that improve fertility, but you don't need to know that...).

[petalruesimblr]

Hello everyone! Lately, I've been interested in creating part-time careers and have been brainstorming various kinds of realistic options that can be used for The Sims 3.

This time, I'm back with a Medical Support Staff part-time career. It combines different part-time roles in the medical field, such as Medical Receptionist, Medical Records Clerk and Medical Scribe and these roles don't necessarily require a license or a college degree.

If you are interested, click on ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures of the Medical Support Staff Part-Time Career.

Medical Support Staff

Sim File Share

Join our Medical Support Staff Team in providing essential support services to our patients and medical professionals. Assist with administrative tasks, provide support to patients and be a vital part of our healthcare operations. Apply now and become a part of our dedicated team making a difference in healthcare!

Career Type: Part-Time Available for: Young Adults, Adults and Elders Available Languages: English Levels: 3 Rabbit Hole: Hospital Work Days: M, T, W, F Work Hours: 9AM - 12PM Does it have Carpool? Yes Does it have Uniforms? Yes (same uniforms used for the Medical career; Bed Pan Cleaner, refer to pictures above) File Type: Package Min. Required Game Version: 1.42 Packs Needed: The Sims 3 📣 All descriptions for the levels, tones and metrics as well as skills required, salary, uniforms and other details are provided on the pictures above.

NRAAS Careers Mod

I decided to use game screenshots from The Sims 3 that I took during the testing period instead of creating detailed images because it takes less time compared to the other one and I've been quite busy these past few days. You may have noticed my new post format, which I'm trying out to see if it works for me. Since I started my Simblr account, I've been experimenting with what works or looks good with my theme. Hopefully, I will find something that I'll be happy with. So, I hope you'll be patient with me as I tend to change things every now and then. The Charisma skill is added as one of its metrics because this part-time career mostly involves interacting with patients and fellow medical staff. This includes tasks such as checking in patients, scheduling appointments and coordinating medical procedures with different teams in the hospital. Logic is also the other Metric as I think the longer you work in that setting you will eventually learn the medical jargons especially if you have been promoted to the highest level and need to accurately record everything during patient examinations. As stated above, you will need NRAAS Careers Mod for these careers to show up in the game and as long as you have the latest version of it, it should work for higher patches. You can also read my #psa regarding these careers, click here. I’m not fluent in any other languages to translate so if anyone is interested in translating this career, please don’t hesitate to send me a message here, comment on this post or let me know in my new Ask/Contact form (if you don't have a Tumblr account) and will let you know the details. I have tested this career in my game, so far it is working and all scripts are showing up. All feedback is very welcome to help me learn and improve my skills so please let me know if you experience any problems on your end and I’ll do my best to sort it as soon as possible.

MissyHissy step-by-step tutorial Twallan for the Career Mod S3pe

[tetzoro]

☽◯☾ - PEEPING TENDOU

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : He’s always been obsessed with you, but now he finally has the chance to show you how good you’d be together. Hopefully you'll wake up soon to realize it.

꒰ contents ꒱ : MDNI. Please read the tags. tendou satori x reader ; noncon, somno, elements of coercion, mentions of ex!ushijima, slight degradation, fingering, unprotected sex — WC : 961

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Waning Gibbous ! ꒱ — Kinktober Masterlist ! written for the @ficsforgaza kinktober. please check out the other works by the amazing creators !

Tendou never thought he’d find himself in such a precarious situation. Curled up in your bed, you were a vision with the way your eyelashes kissed your pretty cheeks, mouth slightly parted open as your chest rose and fell. The sight alone shouldn’t have made him ache so badly, an egregious desire coursing through his veins.

The soft, almost seductive glow of moonlight poured into the room, caressing your skin in ways that he could only dream of. A nasty streak of jealousy stung at his heart as he envied all of the things that have touched you so intimately before him.

The two of you had been in the same friend group for years since you dated Ushijima. He'd find every reason to be around you constantly, admiring you from afar and silently cursing his best friend under his breath for getting to you first. Lucky bastard.

It was okay though, he’d find himself by your door many times, furiously pumping his cock to the sounds of the two of you together. He'd try his best to drown out Ushijima’s deep grunts in favor of focusing on how you’d mewl over him, begging him for more.

After he had moved to Paris, he had heard whisperings of the big breakup. Something about Ushijima putting volleyball first and setting off to chase his goals — an act Tendou would’ve never committed. Not if he had you. 

But as fate would have it, Ushijima had sent him an invite to his next big game and booked the flight as soon as he heard you were going — trying to get back with him no doubt. 

Tendou was overjoyed that you were going to let him sleep on your couch in your little apartment in the city. His thoughts flooded with grand delusions on how maybe you’ve changed your mind and wanted him instead, even though you were hosting the majority of the old high school pals – including Ushijima.

But now that he’s back where he belongs, right by your side, he can’t help but crave so much more than his lust-filled daydreams as he watches you sleep right inside the sanctuary of your bedroom.

Surely it wouldn’t hurt if he were to touch himself right now. His wide, wild eyes fixated on the sliver of skin that peeked out from the thin sheet. It was all too tempting, something nudging him forward to act on his impulses.

His slender, lithe fingers slid down his boxers, gripping his half-hard cock and giving it a few hesitant pumps to further bring it to life.

It’s all he wanted to do — really, he didn’t plan on more. But when you shifted in your sleep, revealing the all too thin shorts you had on paired with no underwear underneath, well. He could only resist so much.

Careful not to disturb you, Tendou crawls onto the bed, slightly gripping your thighs and prying them open. The fabric of your shorts was loose enough that he could see your pretty little pussy. Unable to stop himself, his fingers reach out for you, caressing your glistening slit.

He hardly falters when you stir in your sleep, red eyes flitting up to you as you let out the breathiest moan he’s ever had the pleasure of hearing. And he wanted more.

Slipping a digit in, he slowly pumps it in as his other hand focuses on his cock. Everything about you was so sweet, so vulnerable. A beautiful flower ready to be plucked, the fruits of his labor finally ripe for the taking.

Surely you must’ve wanted this, right? You were the one that slept without underwear, that left your door cracked open – just for him. 

And your messy cunt seems to agree, your essence already easily coating his finger. The sounds of your arousal filled the room and drew him in, his nose brushing along your clit so he could take it in his mouth. 

The sounds you let out drove him forward, desperate hips now humping the mattress with a need too great he can’t bother to hold back anymore.

Tucking your pants to the side, he hastily lines himself up, sinking into you with a low groan of your name. The sudden pressure caused you to stir once again, this time your eyes snapping open to the sight before you. 

Tendou’s palm slaps against your mouth as he continues sliding in. Your wide eyes were struck with a swirl of surprise and horror, already brimming with tears as he pushed deeper into you.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Tendou all but coos.  “Not a peep from you.”

You attempted to gasp out his name but with the way his fingers curled into your cheek and dug into your plush skin, it came out as a panicked jumble of a cry. The fear in your voice only spurred him on, cock pulsing as he began to thrust into you. He felt your walls constrict around him, welcoming him in despite your feeble attempt to push him off of you. 

But you just kept trying to make noise.

“Quiet.” He hissed, his patience starting to wear thin. “Do you really want to wake everyone up? Have Ushiwaka come and see you like this? Desperate? Pathetic?”

You stop squirming, eyes widening even more. He had you right where he wanted you and let out a little chuckle at how easy it was. He really should’ve done this sooner had he known how quickly you’d give in.

“You can be good for me, can’t you?” His voice switches back to something sugary as he grunts with every slow roll of his hips. “The only thing I want to hear out of that pretty little mouth are those sweet moans I know you’re capable of making.”