#i don’t know how much longer they’re gonna put up with me being such a deadbeat

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

omg hi if ur inbox is open can u give us a short blurb/your thoughts on or some kind of headcanon list for yan tim drake (romantic) bc ur interpretation of him is so yum🤤 i like how you rlly focus on more darker aspects of his character which i dont see a lot of ppl doing unfortunately bc the way he’s a complete FREAK LMFAO🫣🫣

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒…

!!! GN reader, mentally ill Tim, psychotic Tim, just Tim, he’s a problem, manic/depressive episodes, violent tendencies, suicidal tendencies, stalking, kidnapping, obsessive behaviors, gross ways to show affection, slight insinuation of pervy Tim, blood, mutilation, harm to reader mentioned, self-harm, severed body parts, drugging, gaslighting.

YAAAAYYYYYYYYY, TIM DRAKE TIME!!!! This is so long overdue. I’ve been meaning to write for him, but… it just hasn’t happened yet. I hope the ideas will start flowing after I get some of this off my chest. I’ve been harboring so many miscellaneous Tim thoughts for a while.

(Y’all. The CW on this just kept getting longer and longer. My bad.)

First thing’s first, Tim is a fucking mess. There’s no way to know for sure which version of him you’re gonna get each day. Maybe he’s going through a manic episode, coming up with batshit crazy schemes and going on about things that don’t make sense. Maybe he’ll then swing into a depressive fit, where he can’t even bring himself to get up from the floor. Maybe he wakes up completely fine after an hour long nap, regretting whatever initial brash decisions he made. Maybe he quickly turns violent at the sound of knocking at his door. Maybe he wants to claw his own arteries out after trying to maintain a normal social interaction.

The possibilities are endless! Which makes him extremely dangerous.

If you’ve caught the eye of Tim Drake… yikes. Good luck. There’s a chance you don’t even know who he is before he inevitably kidnaps you (completely on a whim, no less). Maybe you’re a total stranger he saw on the street once, captivating him and causing him to spiral into a twisted obsession. While I’ll defend Tim against the fandom allegations until my lungs give out, I’ll admit: they’re on to something when it comes to stalker Tim. Bro definitely has pictures of you covering every square inch of his walls. And, yes, it’s to the point where they overlap each other.

Kidnapping can take anywhere between 3 days and 3 years. During that time, he may try to weasel his way into your life in an attempt to win you over... though we all know how well that would go. As I’ve mentioned before, he may be attractive, but he’s such an off-putting person. Just being around him is enough to give you the creeps. And it doesn’t help he’s completely unaware of how weird some behaviors are. Tim... honey… you can’t shamelessly stare at people with a startling grin like that. I know you’re thinking about how much you want to lick your darling-to-be’s neck, but it’s weird.

Whether he attempts to interact with you or not, one thing’s for sure: he’s stealing your shit. Clothes, toothbrushes, half-eaten food, straws, whatever he can get his hands on. Don’t ask what he does with it. You don’t wanna know. Tim is a neeeaaaasty freak, to the point where even he thinks to himself, “what the fuck is wrong with me” after he calms down from a fit.

Oh, speaking of guilt, Tim is filled with that shit. He may swing from various stages of instability, but there are moments where he’s perfectly fine. And those are the moments where he has to grapple with the consequences of his own actions. Those can range from slightly scaring someone to causing irreversible damage. There have been many times where he snapped out of some episode with blood dribbling down hands and chunks of skin under his fingernails. Who did he hurt? Could be someone else, could be himself, could be you. Who knows!!

Let’s actually get into his suicidal tendencies a bit. His arms and legs are covered in scratches and cuts. Now, this could be explained by his vigilante life, but it gets harder to justify when you get to the bite marks at angles that only make sense if they were self-inflicted. Oh, and also the carvings of your name. He does that a lot. It’s like you’re with him everywhere he goes!! And kind of on the same note, he wants you to have him with you as well!! This could come in the form of strips of skin, vials of blood, toes, an eye, an ear, a spleen… just whatever he’s willing to cut off or out of himself in the moment.

His suicidal tendencies are also connected to those moments of guilt I mentioned before. After calming down and realizing what he’s done, he may harm himself as some sort of penance; especially if he’s done something to you. Depending on how far he spirals from his guilt, he may actually enact “an eye for an eye” (perhaps in the most literal sense) to help make up for what he’s done. Who knows, maybe he’ll replace missing pieces of you with his own. Will it work? No idea. Maybe a skin graph or two, but let’s hope you don’t have to find things out in the more extreme cases.

I think it’s important to keep in mind that Tim Drake is just generally fucked-up. “Normal” Tim doesn’t mean “completely well-adjusted” Tim, it just means he’s not acting on some manic or brash decision. Normal Tim would be fine with chaining or drugging you if he’s justified it to himself. As long as he’s not causing active physical harm to you, he probably won’t see anything wrong with whatever he’s doing in the long run. It’s for your own good, okay? Don’t worry, he’s gone through the possibilities and failsafes. Nothing bad will happen to you!

Unfortunately, manic Tim does not go through the possibilities and failsafes. Well, he kind of does, but the logic is far from realistic and runs in total circles. Whereas drugging you has a rational (fucked up, but still rational) reason behind it — to keep you immobile — filling your ear canal with cement takes some mental gymnastics. Manic Tim doesn’t want you to listen to anyone else. Solution? You can’t hear through concrete, right? At that point, you’re at the mercy of his mood swing RNG. Let’s hope he calms down enough to take a step back and really think about this. Hmm… filling someone’s ears with cement… probably not healthy. Wow. Silly Tim! He let himself get carried away, didn’t he? Whoops! There are more logical ways to keep you from listening to anyone else.

That’s where manipulation comes in. I mean, come on. Y’all know who his mentor is, right? Stable Tim is wicked good at manipulation. Huh? He’s acting weird? Well, he didn’t want to say anything, but he was actually thinking the same thing about you. Yeah, you’ve been kind of off lately… is there something wrong? You sure? You know he’s there for you, right? Okay, just making sure. A gaslighting king when he’s in the right headspace for it. Too bad his psychotic aura gives him away; he’d probably be really good at keeping up appearances if he just got medicated or something.

So… yeah. Just some Tim thoughts. What a charmer, amiright? I don’t think this one’s salvageable. No amount of therapy could ever fix whatever Tim’s got going on. Just throw the whole damn guy away. Start over. Your only hope of escaping him is the chance of someone on the outside realizing what’s up. Here’s to hoping Tim gets institutionalized before he does something really bad!!

[seventh-district]

.

[ihavenomouthandimustmouth]

It seems like a lot of the anti-transmasculinity/transandrophobia discourse revolves around the ideas that either this does not occur, does not occur in real life, or is just transmascs viewing criticisms of transmisogynistic transmascs as oppression, so here’s a story.

I live with some other people around my age, and I stopped using my deadname with them earlier this year. it hasn’t been that long, about 3 months, but generally, they use my correct name with an occasional mistake, usually followed up by a correction. one of them, however, just cannot seem to stop deadnaming me, often without correcting afterwards. when they do notice they’ve gotten it wrong, it’s usually followed up by a big thing about how they don’t know why they’re so bad at it or blaming it on being drunk if they’re drunk, but often not an apology.

an additional piece of this—my partner, who is a trans woman, changed the name they use around the same time, but this person almost always gets her name right. this person knows me a bit better/longer than they do her, but not that much better/longer, and generally, when I am around them, my partner is also there. (adding a cut here because this is gonna be long)

I talked with my therapist about this at my last session. I was seeking advice on how to handle it, but I also spent a lot of time just complaining and running through different incidences of this happening. I ended up telling her about some of the weird things this person said to me when I first started socially transitioning, including them saying that they were sad when I came out because they (direct quote) “didn’t want to stop seeing me as a genderless elf” (???!?) (I had previously identified as nonbinary and used any pronouns) and followed that up by saying that they hated men, which they then followed up by saying “not trans men though” (which like okay but then why bring that up in this conversation).

In talking my therapist, I circled back to the deadnaming issue and said that I thought this person was doing this to me and not my partner because my partner is more feminine than I am masculine (in social behavior and the way we look as two people that have not started medically transitioning). my therapist pushed back on this and said that, based on all the things I said, it seemed more like this person just didn’t want to see me as a man.

this blew my mind a little because I, a transmasculine person who spends way too much time on trans and transmasc internet, did not put the situation in this context while my therapist, a cis woman who is supportive but not super aware of the trans experience, did. it made a lot of sense though, and fit into the context of my other experiences and interactions with this person.

this person is a nonbinary person who has never identified as or been seen as a man. they are supportive of trans people generally and of their rights. they are also someone who believes that woman are inherently better than men. this generally doesn’t have much of an impact on the cis men we live with—for them, this more comes as being around for jokes that might make them a little uncomfortable, but doesn’t stop them from being seen as men. for me, this means I have to deal with the fact that this person doesn’t want to see me as a man and deadnames me accordingly, seemingly because they see me transitioning as a loss.

my point here is that when transmasculine people say that there are issues they face specifically related to them being transmasculine, that’s not a lie or a hypothetical. there is a stark contrast between the way this person treats my transfem partner and myself (and, after talking with someone who’s lived here with this person for longer, other transmasculine people who have lived in the house). they are supportive of trans people as a group, but not of transmasculinity, and I have to deal with the consequences.

[papercorgiworld]

Whipped for their tutor II: A Reward

Mattheo, Theo and Enzo

Tutoring the Slytherin boys isn’t easy, so you use the fact that they’re absolutely whipped as a way to motivate them. 

Find part one here, but you don’t have to read it. There’s not that much plot.

Warning: suggestive and a little bit of smut

This took longer than necessary just because it took me a week to come up with something for Enzo. Also, little announcement, I'm gonna mix requests instead of work chronological because I'm struggling with inspiration and I wanna write things I can instead of stay stuck on the things I can't, because I'm short on time atm, but I should get to all of them eventually. Happy readings! Have a lovely weekend!

“Mate, quidditch practice, remember?” Blaise’s face appears by the door as he looks at his friend.

Mattheo

He looks up from his book and nods at Blaise. “Right, I gotta go.” Mattheo says, turning to face you as he slams his book shut. 

“Your work isn’t finished yet.” You state and meet his eyes, a small smile tugging on your lips as you play to win this situation. Mattheo looks at Blaise and back to you, he smiles at your silly comment, quidditch was way more important than studying. “I can’t miss quidditch training.” Mattheo argues.

You pout and your teasing eyes lock with his. Blaise notices Mattheo’s face going red, but what Blaise doesn’t know is that it’s because your hand is resting on Mattheo’s crotch. Softly your hand moves and you feel his member twitch. Such a sensitive boy. “On second thought,” Mattheo’s voice comes out almost squeaky and he forces a cough to regain compose “I’m not allowed to play the game if I don’t pass tomorrow’s test so I better study.” 

Blaise knows better than to ask questions and simply nods before leaving. “Such a good student.” The words drip off your lips as Mattheo’s eyes land on your lips. “If you put in a few more hours of studying then you’ll nail tomorrow’s test. And Matty, if you get an A I’ll give you a little reward.” Your words are a seductive whisper and you know you’re doing it right when you feel Mattheo get harder. Your hand moves over the bulge in his pants and like the good student Mattheo is, his eyes fall from you to the pages of his summary. 

You notice his blush and his hard swallow. He was trying his best to focus, but struggling with hardness in his pants and your hand. Seeing him like this, you couldn’t deny it, it turned you on a little as well. He was so fun to play with. “Maybe it’s best I let you study alone for today.” You whisper close to his ear and his puppy eyes meet yours. He doesn’t want you to leave. “I feel you’re … a little distracted.” You say lips almost brush his ear as your hand strokes him member one last time before moving away. “Good luck.” You say and you kiss his cheek, staining his face with your lipstick. Maybe she didn’t notice… Mattheo stares down at his crotch. Who am I kidding! Why am I so sensitive to her? Salazar, she drives me crazy!

***

Mattheo was really excited when the professor returned his test a few days later. When he spotted you talking to your friend in the hallway that same day he wanted to offer you his test but worried he would look like a fool he decided against it, cursing himself for being so needy for you. He needed your praise, he thought about it almost every night, but his ego kept him from begging for it.

So he eagerly waited for the next tutoring session and his eagerness was obvious to you since he was early. You walk into the classroom and are surprised to find Mattheo seated with his books out on the table. When he sees you walk in he gets up and smiles at you and you can’t help but smile at how whipped he is. “I got an A.” He blurs out before you even get the chance to sit down. You lick your lips and Mattheo feels his face heat up. Salazar, I sound desperate. I can’t even think with her around. You take a step closer to him and you lean suggestively close. Mattheo tries to meet your lips but you teasingly avoid the kiss. You chuckle softly, making him flustered, moving to whisper in his ear. “What did you think your reward would be?” 

Mattheo swallows and his eyes lock with yours. “You.” He breathes, not hiding his desire for you. While waiting for you in this classroom filled with sexual tension Mattheo’s mind and body had gone wild with anticipation for what his reward could be. Every possible fantasy of the past weeks had shot through his mind as he had waited for you, for his reward.  “You think that you can have me because you had one good test?” You raise an eyebrow. “An A+.” He specifies and he immediately feels embarrassed by how pathetic he must sound, trying to impress you with his grades. However, he manages to snap out of his embarrassment and regains some of his composure. With a slight teasing tone to his voice he speaks up. “You said I would get a reward.” He does his best to sound confident and you’re almost impressed by how good he sells it. 

Your hand moves over his chest and lower, pressing your chest against his. “Well, as a reward you don’t have to pretend like you’re not rock hard, you can take care of yourself.” He’s baffled. His mouth opens to say something but nothing comes out. “Sit.” You command and he does so without thinking. You sit down as well and slowly unbuckle his belt, knowing that you’ll find his cock hard once again. “Now, there, treat yourself.” You say almost mocking him. His eyes stay focused on yours as his hand slowly and hesitantly moves towards his member. Your eyes meet his and you feel yourself drawn to his pretty eyes. You lean in and Mattheo’s eyes fall to your lips as his hand slowly strokes his dick. He was so turned on by you, but he barely dared to make a move, afraid that you would reject him if he didn’t play it right. 

Almost brushing his lips you halt and let your eyes fall down to his hand jerking his rather large size. You let your hand rest on his thigh, making him bite his lip. “You’re quite impressive.” You whisper and Mattheo grips his cock a little hard. You loved how needy he was for your praise, for you, but he hated how much control you had over him.

Theodore

You sit opposite of Theo and don’t see Blaise, but still roll your eyes. How dare he interrupt your tutoring session. Obviously your tutoring was more important than quidditch. Theo gathers his papers and you tilt your head, when he looks up at Blaise to say something you quickly move your leg. Theodore’s eyes widen as your elegant heels move between his thighs. Your tongue slowly wets your lips as the slytherin’s eyes meet yours. You notice how his chest heaves and you have to keep yourself from smirking, but you play it professional and look at him through your lashes. Blaise coughs as he waits for a response from his friend. “I can’t.” Theodore finally answers, but there’s a hint of reluctance in his voice. He hated giving into you, but he just could not help himself. He needed to stay and see if he had a chance with you. 

Blaise nods and disappears, making you smile proudly at Theodore. You don’t say anything and remove your high heels from between Theo’s legs, making him relax a bit. When he doesn’t return his attention to his pages but rather continues to stare at you, you get up from your seat and walk over to him. Your hands rest on his shoulder, massaging them gently before letting your hands slip down under his loosened shirt to his chest. “You really need to pass that transfiguration test so you better focus.” Your taunting whisper makes Theo lick his lip as his mind wanders to all the things he would rather do than focus.

When you still don’t get the right response you lean down so your lips brush his ear. “Be a good student. I like good students. If you work through all chapters by tonight you might earn yourself a reward.” You let a hand rest just above his belt as your other hand grabs his chin, making him face you. “Can you do that for me?” You're toying with him and he knows it, but he wants to be your toy so badly. The last bit of protest within Theo disappears and he nods. You let go of his pretty face and he returns to his summary. 

“If you’ve finished your summary, come find me so I can check it for you.” You say and quickly grab your stuff. “You’re leaving?” Theodore blurs and he gets flustered by how desperate he sounded. You chuckle. “Yes, I do things outside of tutoring, but you can come and find me in my dorm when your summary is done.” You turn on your heels and he watches your beautiful figure disappear, but as soon as you’re out of sight he starts working on his summary, eager to have it finished and see you again.

***

A knock on the door has you turn your head. Before you can say anything the door slowly opens to reveal Theodore and you smile when he shows you a small bundle of papers. “My summary.” He states still not entering your room, but rather leaning against the doorframe waiting for permission to enter. Theodore knew better than to go into a girl’s room without her invitation. He learned that from Pansy, the hard way. You're amused by his good behaviour and get up from your seat to take his summary. You flip through the pages and Theo watches you with anticipation. Your hair fell perfectly, your eyes were engaged with his sloppy handwriting and ever so gently you bit your plush bottom lip. He was about to adore the rest of your body, but you speak up and meet his eyes. “This is actually really thorough. I’m impressed.” A smug smile forms on Theodore lips, but as smug as he tries to act he’s blushing as well, touched by your compliment on his work. 

“If you put your mind to it, Theodore, you can get much better grades.” You continue and Theo chuckles. “I’m just rarely motivated, but you changed that.” You're surprised by his confidence, but you can’t deny that you like it. “Someone’s after his reward.” You quip and Theodore feels himself heat up. It was obvious there was no need to deny it, he wanted you and you both knew it. “You promised.” Theo says as he leans his head back a little in an attempt to look nonchalant about the whole situation.

You lay the papers down on your desk and side eye him before nodding as a silent invitation to enter, which he quickly does. He closes the door by pressing his back against his, eyes never leaving your body. His hungry eyes make you chuckle. “Just out of curiosity, what do you think you’re going to get for doing something as basic as writing a summary?” You elegantly walk over to him and seductively trace a finger over his chest. “I want a chance to dig my face between your legs.” Theo’s determined voice in combination with that phrase has your eyes widen. There’s a moment of silent tension as you stare deep into his eyes. “Don’t disappoint.” You tell him as you move your hand to his shoulder to guide him down to his knees.

Enzo

Your eyes slowly move from Blaise to Enzo who smiles bright at his friend, but shakes his head no. “Can’t, mate, I really gotta finish this or I won’t play at all.” Your eyes get all shiny when the slytherin’s eyes fall back to the books in front of him. When Blaise is far enough not to hear anything going on you scoot a little closer to Enzo. “I must say, I’m impressed at how dedicated you are to our tutoring sessions.” Enzo looks up to see your sweet smile focussed on him and he has to keep himself from drooling as his mouth parts a little. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing at how lost he is, staring at you. Eventually a soft laugh does escape your lips. “You know, if you keep studying like this you might get a reward.” Now Enzo’s jaw drops a little more and you can’t resist putting a finger under his chin to close his mouth. 

You hadn’t said anything about what this reward would be, but he sure as hell wasn’t thinking about cookies, then again neither were you. “If you work hard like the good boy you are, I’ll treat you to something sweet.” Lorenzo was unsure if it was your honey voice or the way you softly bit your lip, but his pants suddenly felt a little tighter and his heart was racing at an unhealthy pace. 

***

For weeks Enzo Berkshire had been the perfect student. Always on time for his tutoring lessons, working from start to finish, engaged with his work and his grades showed it. Yet the praise from the teachers or even the girls in his class, it all left him cold because he was only after one thing and that was the sweet reward you had promised him. Striptease, lapdance, blowjob, sex… just a piece of lingerie would be fine. Next lesson, probably… However, you had kept him waiting. Since there was never an exact agreement on when he would receive his reward, Enzo was left to guess and hope every week that this would be it. You on the other hand benefited from waiting for two reasons: Lorenzo was incredibly motivated and Lorenzo was insanely cute when he tried hinting at his reward, not really daring to ask for it.

You were surprised by how long he had played along, but he really couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. He was exploding of desire for you and the thought of getting anything from you as reward drove him mad. So he had to ask. Though the question didn’t come as a surprise, the timing was. 

You were explaining the importance of distance when using certain conjurations, when Enzo suddenly spook up. “I work hard. I’m a good student. I deserve my reward. I deserve you.” Your eyes move from the page you were pointing at to see a blushing Enzo stare at you. You sit a little straighter and Enzo swallows, terrified that his impatience had caused him to screw up with the prettiest witch to ever walk the earth. “What do you mean with that last bit, ‘I deserve you’?” A nervous chuckle leaves Lorenzo’s lips and he even starts fidgeting with his fingers, making you raise an eyebrow. He went from demanding daddy to whipped mamma’s boy real fast. “What I meant to say was… uhm… I deserve whatever you give me. I just forgot a few words there.” You smile at his nonsensical answer and react with a serious tone. “Exactly.” 

With a flick of your wrist the door slams shut and Enzo’s eyes stick to the classroom door as he realises he’s now completely alone in a room with you. While his face heats up, his blood rushes down. “You were cute trying to be all demanding.” You say as you move from your seat, Enzo watching you carefully. “I didn’t mean to come off too strong. I was just really excited for this-.” The teasing smile tugging on your lips when he said the word ‘exciting’ has Enzo falling silent. With another flick of your wrist Enzo’s chair turns towards you and he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. “No doubt you’re excited.” You whisper, referring to the bulge in his pants. He feels like he’s about to lose consciousness when you slowly go down on your knees in front of him. He doesn’t move and he almost forgets to breathe as your perfect hands unbuckle his belt. 

Him moving up to help you lower his pants was instinct, because you had turned his mind to mush, his eyes drowning in yours. As soon as you start jerking his dick his moans fill the room, making you wonder what sounds he’ll make once you have him in your mouth.

Whimpers, is what filled the room when your tongue teased his tip, and cries when you finally move to take his member deep. You had him begging in a matter of seconds and you loved the control as much as you were starting to love Enzo. 

[princessbrunette]

pogue!rafe who you call over to fix every minor inconveniences.. theres a cockroach bothering you or your ac’s acting up and rafe is the first guy you call 🙂‍↕️ he acts all nonchalant being “you could literally call the ac guy or your neighbor or someone. youre saying i come all the way here for this?” but you js go “but you’re the only one i trust rafey!!” and he eats that shit UP 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

perhaps you have strict kook parents who don’t let you bring men into the house — but rafe has worked on the house, they trust him — so he’s allowed right? he really doesn’t wanna come all that way just to press a few buttons on your ac that he knows you could do yourself — but he can’t help it, he’s just a man and you’re feeding his ego when you say stuff like “i’m not good at this kinda thing rafe, you’re all smart n’know how to fix things. oh, and my parents like you so they wouldn’t mind if you come here whilst they’re not home!” which makes his ears perk up like a rabbit of course. he reluctantly agrees and heads straight out.

it’s a specifically hot day, so when he turns up you’re walking around in just the tightest tiniest bikini because the ac is broken and you just couldn’t bring yourself to put clothes on.

he’s being his usual mean self, telling you to stay out of his way whilst he figures out the problem, and then once he figures it out starts telling you that you could have done it yourself — but you’re just smiling, barely listening, staring up at him looking all soft and grabbable which makes it hard for him to concentrate. you’re finding ways to get him to stay longer, offering him iced tea and food to which he declines every offer. before he leaves you get all upset, brow furrowed and pouty and he can’t stand it.

“what, huh? why are you looking at me like that?” he throws his arms up from the doorway to your bedroom, watching you sit on the bed sulking.

“why do you wanna leave so bad?” you mewl, genuinely sounding like you’re on the verge of tears and he sighs, scratching behind his ear.

“doin’ my job, kid. you’re not payin’ me to hang out and besides — m’not taking your money today.” he waves a hand and for a second you lose focus of your goal.

“wh— why?”

“i came over n’pressed a few buttons. s’not rocket science.”

“i’m still gonna pay you.” you cross your arms stubbornly and he spreads his palms carelessly, looking around.

“well uh, i’ll send it back.” he sarks and you huff, staring at your feet. he watches you for a moment, before giving in just a little and leaning on the door frame. “still upset? huh?”

“yes.” you pout.

“whats the problem now? you kook girls have got plenty’a shit to entertain yourself with alright you— you don’t need me for that. not a god damn babysitter.”

“you’re not babysitting. not even that much older than me, anyways.” you whine, only seemingly proving his point and he huffs out a laugh.

“jeeeesus christ.” he drawls under his breath before he strolls over to stand infront of you. you don’t look up at him, pointedly, so he taps beneath your chin twice. “hey.”

looking up, you look so sweet — he couldn’t deny it. “whats the issue?” he reiterates, and from his clipped tone you can tell he’s not gonna ask again if you refuse, he’ll just leave.

“want you…” you murmur, eyes getting hazy and low, pupils dilating before his very eyes like you’d flipped a switch. it’s tempting, very tempting but he backs off anyway.

“nah, nah you want a toy. go fuck on a dildo, m’not your slave.” he huffs tiredly as he drags his big body over to the doorway again. in almost a panic you let out a devastated noise, tears welling up.

“no i want you. rafey, c’mon… you have no idea. s’hurting.” you complain, and now his interest is piqued, turning around once more he licks his lips irritably at the back and forth, blinking at you.

“you think that shits not gonna hurt with me? huh?” he tilts his head, reaching down and boyishly grasping at the shape of himself through his jeans. “this shits bigger than any of the other suckers you’ve had. trust me, you don’t want this kid. go back to playing with kook boys.”

fed up and whiny, you bring your feet up onto the bed, spreading your thighs as you pull your bikini bottoms aside. he freezes on the spot, eyes locked in to the sight, only just taking in the pained look on your face. you weren’t lying, your cunt is a mess of slick, practically pulsating and clenching around nothing infront of him.

“i can take it. make me take it.” you request quietly, peering up at him. he exhales hard out his nose, looking around the room helplessly before storming towards you.

“yeah? alright. i’ll make you fuckin’ take it.”

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

[museanddream]

Heaven - part 3 || Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x reader

Warnings: 🔞 || threesome, poly relationship, fingering, strap-ons, degrading language, bottom!reader

Word count: 2.6k

Part 3 of 3

Part 1 || Part 2

Ona’s hands on your hips guide you to shuffle slightly further up the bed so that your face is closer to Lucy’s sweat-sheened stomach than her pussy, but she keeps the toy sheathed inside you and you feel every movement tenfold.

“Ona, please,” you whine.

“Shh, you’ll come,” Lucy soothes you with a low voice and her hand cradling the back of your head. “Ona’s gonna make sure of that. D’ya know why?”

If the answer is supposed to be obvious, your mind is too lust-clouded to figure it out. You slowly shake your head as much as Lucy’s hand in your hair will allow.

Lucy is more than happy to supply the answer herself.

“Because I told her to. And Ona’s a good girl. Ona does what I ask her to, when I ask her to do it. Without mouthing off.”

“You asked me to make you come,” you point out, desperate for Lucy’s praise, or at least a hint that she’s pleased with your efforts. “I did that.”

“Suppose you did,” Lucy acknowledges, her hand coming down to stroke your cheek. Her fingers tighten slightly against your jaw, and she adds, “But only after being a brat.”

Behind you, Ona’s slight body curls around your back, hot skin pressed against your own as her voice appears close to your ear.

“Ready, cariño?”

You have to try not to snort. It’s a ridiculous question, you’ve been ready for what feels like hours.

“Give it to her,” Lucy instructs. “You don’t need to be gentle.”

As her hips start to move, Ona isn’t gentle. Gone is the care from before, now the way she fucks into you can only be described as primal. There’s a slap of skin each time she bottoms out inside you, her fingers digging into your hips as she holds you still so she can drive the toy into you.

“She fucks you so well, doesn’t she?” Lucy asks, a hint of pride in her voice as she watches on.

Ona times a particularly deep thrust with you opening your mouth to respond and all that leaves your throat is a particularly debauched cry that will surely leave you hoarse tomorrow. You’re not even coherent enough to feel any shame for the sounds escaping your mouth, let alone to hold a conversation with Lucy while Ona fucks you.

“Answer me,” Lucy growls, tugging at your hair to lift your head to look at her.

“Yes,” you manage to choke. “So good.”

Lucy relinquishes her grip and your head falls forward as you put all your effort into staying in place for Ona.

“How does she feel?” Lucy asks.

For a couple of seconds, you think Lucy’s question is aimed at you again, until Ona answers.

“Good.”

“Tight?” Lucy asks.

“Not anymore,” Ona grunts with the effort of talking while fucking you. “But she’s also just really wet.”

“Course she is. Little slut.” A pause, then Lucy adds, “Come on, give it to her.”

If you had the capacity to string enough words together to form a sentence, you’d tell Lucy that Ona is already giving it to you. Yet Ona surprises you by somehow finding another energy reserve to fuck into you harder. The cock hits so deep inside you with every thrust that you think Ona might actually be trying to fuck you into another dimension.

You manage just a few thrusts like that before you can no longer hold yourself up, arms giving way until your cheek rests on Lucy’s warm stomach and your hips are almost flat to the bed, except for the pillow cushioned beneath them.

Ona falters for just a second as you move, then readjusts her own position, covering your back with her own body as she continues to rut into you. Meanwhile one of Lucy’s hands finds your head again, careful fingers sweeping loose tendrils away from where they’re plastered to the sheen of sweat on your forehead.

“Good girl,” Lucy says, and for the first time since you disobeyed her earlier, there’s a glimmer of warmth in her voice, like she’s almost proud of the way you take everything that they give you. “Taking it so well. Letting Ona fuck you like this. You just love being used, don’t you?”

As much as your earlier pride might have told you to argue back, you do like this. Lucy’s hand in your hair, Ona’s body pressed against your back. It’s comforting to have them both so close, freeing to be able to trust them both so wholeheartedly with your pleasure, to be able to give up control and forget about training and schedules and media for a while.

To be fucked by them, wanted by them, loved by them.

Yet all you manage to choke out is a raspy, “Uh huh.”

Ona’s thrusts are shallower now, the new position against your back not allowing for much more than that. But her movements are still quick and from the little noises she lets out, her breath escaping in hot puffs against your back, you know it must be working for her too, the position pushing the base of the strap against her clit.

Your own clit needs something more and you whine into Lucy’s stomach as you attempt to grind down on the pillow below your hips for some stimulation, but it’s not enough.

“Ona…”

Ona knows your body so well that you don’t need to say anything more for her to know exactly what to give you. Her hips stall for just a second as she adjusts to slip her hand between your body and the pillow, skilful fingers finding your clit as her hips resume.

Each rut inside you has you grinding against Ona’s hand, pleasure building inside you until you know the coil is going to snap.

You nuzzle your face into Lucy’s stomach but she has other ideas, using the hand in your hair to turn and lift your head.

“Stop that,” she murmurs, though her voice is far from scolding. “Told you I wanna see you when you come. Go on. Come for us.”

Lucy’s permission is all it takes for you to hurtle over the edge. Her hand in your hair is what stops the fall from being fatal. She keeps you present as the pleasure tears through your body, Ona’s thrusts into you never relinquishing even as you flutter and clench around the toy. The orgasm feels eternal, or maybe the first one bleeds into a second when Ona’s hips stumble as she slips off the precipice with you, grinding out her own climax with a beautiful cry that gets muffled into the skin of your shoulder.

When it finally subsides, when the pleasure numbs you and you finally stop trembling, Ona’s body still limply pressed against your back, it’s Lucy’s gravelly voice that brings you back to reality.

“Fucking hell. That was something. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching you two together. My gorgeous girls.”

You’re vaguely aware of Ona pressing her lips against your shoulder blades, of Lucy’s hand now caressing your cheek, but you’re too blissed out to open your eyes just yet.

“You okay?” Lucy asks.

You don’t know who the question is aimed at but let Ona answer it.

“Uh huh.” There’s a pause, another gentle kiss against your shoulder, then the low rumble of Ona chuckling against your back as she adds, “I think we broke her.”

“Need a moment,” you mumble, eyes still closed but turning your head to nuzzle into Lucy’s palm.

There’s a shift behind you and you let out a soft cry as Ona withdraws the toy, your cunt spasming around nothing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Sorry,” Ona whispers, trailing kisses up your spine until she can press her face into your neck. “How about a bath?”

“I’ll go run one,” Lucy pipes up, carefully slipping out from under you and padding away towards the bathroom. Seconds later, you hear the running water start to hit the tub.

Ona carefully rolls you onto your back and you blink open your eyes to watch as she expertly loosens the straps and lets the harness slide down her legs and onto the floor with a thud, before she curls into your side.

“That was good for you too, right?” you ask, as Ona’s arm snakes around your middle and one of her legs hooks over your hips.

Ona’s body shakes a bit as she laughs, then she answers in a low voice, “Did you miss the part where I came inside you?”

Another tremor through your over sensitive cunt. You have no idea if Ona knows how filthy what she just said sounds, or if it’s just a quirk of the translation. Either way, you’re exhausted and you let it slide for now.

“No, I felt it,” you assure her. “Just making sure.”

“It was good for you too, no?”

You turn your head and arch a lazy eyebrow at Ona as if to ask her seriously? Her face cracks open into a pretty smile.

“Just making sure,” she echoes your words back to you teasingly. “Lucy might not be so kind next time though.”

“That was kind?” you scoff.

“We both know she’s capable of worse. I thought for a second she might not let you come at all.”

You pull Ona closer and press your lips absently to her forehead as you hum in agreement.

“So did I.” You poke Ona in the ribs, forcing a little yelp from her lips. “And you wouldn’t help me out if that happened. Not when you’re sucking up to her.”

“It’s not sucking up, it’s avoiding punishment,” Ona teases you, poking you back.

“You just like being her good girl.”

“You’re both my good girls.” Lucy’s voice calls out across the room and you glance up to see her head peering around the door to the ensuite. Her lips curl up into a smirk, then she adds, “Some of the time, anyway.”

Ona pushes herself up onto her elbow, leaning down to capture your lips in a lingering kiss, then nudges you towards Lucy.

“Go and have your bath. I’ll clean up here.”

She kisses you once, twice, three times more, then rolls off to let you go.

Inside the bathroom, the tub is full of bubbles and Lucy has lit a few candles. She flicks off the tap as you enter, then lowers her head in a goofy bow as she gestures towards the bath and says, “M’lady.”

“Join me?” you ask, shooting her a pleading little pout as you step into the hot water.

Lucy is quick to nod and soon you’re settled against her chest, her knees bracketing yours as you sit together amongst the bubbles. Her arms slink around your waist from behind and though you didn’t invite her to join you with the intention of fooling around, it doesn’t take long for her hands to start to wander, first up to your nipples, then one dips lower between your legs.

You’re still a little sensitive, but you let your knees fall open as far as the constraints of the tub and Lucy’s legs either side of you will allow.

“Again?” Your voice slips into a gasp as Lucy’s fingers find your clit.

She moves the hand on your breast up to sweep your hair over one shoulder, then nuzzles her lips into the newly exposed skin of your neck.

“You were the one begging us to make you come twenty minutes ago. I reckon you can handle another one.” Her voice is low and you feel the rumble of it against your back as her fingers start to paint delicate circles around your clit. “Anyway, s’not fair that Ona got to be inside you and I didn’t.”

“I wasn’t the one stopping you,” you remind her. “Fuck, Luce, just like that.”

Two of Lucy’s fingers slide into you easily after being stretched open by Ona’s cock for so long. You’re still sensitive from before and you don’t think it’ll take long to come again, not with Lucy’s body wrapped possessively around you, not with the way her teeth catch lightly against the delicate skin of your neck, and especially not with the way she curls her fingers inside you. The angle from behind makes it hard for her to thrust into you properly but it’s still working for you, the pressure building once again as her fingers work inside you.

“Again, huh?”

You hear Ona’s amused voice in the doorway behind you, but you’re too focused on the wicked things Lucy’s fingers are doing to you to be able to open your eyes and look at her.

Instead, you manage to gasp out, “Lucy started it.”

“You’re not complaining though, are ya?” Lucy asks.

You slowly roll your hips into her hand as her fingers move inside you.

“Fuck no.”

“You gonna join us?” Lucy asks Ona, as she withdraws her fingers and returns them to your clit, rubbing circles just above the hood that drive you crazy.

“Don’t think the tub is big enough for three,” Ona replies, stepping into the bathroom and lowering the lid of the toilet seat so she can sit down and enjoy the view. “But I’m happy to watch.”

You’re already embarrassingly close again, the thought of Ona spectating is enough to ensure that.

Lucy’s lips find the side of your neck once more, kissing where your pulse flutters at the crux of your jaw.

“You gonna come again for Ona, baby? To thank her for fucking you so nicely.”

It’s hard to believe the contrast between this Lucy, and the Lucy from earlier. The same Lucy who denies you orgasms, who calls you a slut when you politely ask to be allowed to come, who refers to a strap-on as hers even when its harness is attached to Ona’s hips, is almost offering your next orgasm to Ona as a gift despite being the one to make you come this time.

“I’m so close,” you whine. “Please, Luce.”

“You want me inside again?”

“No, just like this. I’m gonna come if you keep…”

“That’s it,” Lucy encourages you, as she keeps the pressure on your clit and sends her other hand up to shamelessly grope your tit. “Come for us, babygirl.”

It just takes a few more seconds, a few more touches, and you’re doing exactly like that, letting out a cry that echoes against the bathroom tiles as you tumble over the edge once more. It’s not as intense as the first one, numbed slightly by the earlier orgasm that almost tore your body apart, but just as pleasurable.

The water sloshes against the side of the tub as you sink back against Lucy’s chest, boneless, and she removes her hand from between your legs to wrap it around your middle instead.

“What d’ya think?”

“Beautiful.” Ona’s response to Lucy’s question is immediate. “I love watching you together.”

“I love you,” you mumble hazily. Your hand finds one of Lucy’s knees and squeezes, adding, “Both of you.”

“And I love how soppy you get when we’ve made you come so hard you can barely think,” Lucy chuckles against your back.

“Well, if you’re trying to stop me from ‘being a brat’, as you put it, I can’t say it’s working. That was all sorts of incredible.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie.” Lucy’s voice is low and dangerous, her hot breath against your neck sending a ripple of goosebumps down your spine. “I’ve got worse punishments lined up for next time you mouth off. We’re only just getting started with you.”

[ladyelissarose]

———————— ☠️

“Sergeant, you’ve been sitting there for the past 30 mins. Do you seriously think you have that much time to waste?”

Your Lieutenant Simon Riley’s voice was dead yet firm in its tone, being evident that he wasn’t very pleased at the moment.

Placing yourself in his shoes, you’d be upset too, there was a mission coming up and much preparation was still needed, from ‘everyone’ in the team.

Trying to swallow the heavy rock in your throat, you tried to put down the pain of your humiliation from earlier, and replied lowly,

“No sir, but I’m waiting for someone-“

“For 30 minutes? Don’t you think that after 5-10 minutes of waiting it’d be very clear that they’re not coming back for you.”

‘Oh.. but why would they do that? Their supposed to help me-‘

“Sergeant? I asked a question-“

“Yes sir, you’re right. I apologize for wasting time and being delusional.”

With a confident tone you had replied, which was the total opposite of what you were feeling. And though you apologized, you stayed glued to that damned seat, clenching your thighs and the gut wrecking pain that seared from your stomach to your legs- who would’ve thought that period pains would make you feel like you’ve been shot and stabbed?

You bit your lip nervously at the scolding that was to come in a few seconds as you hadn’t moved, and neither had your Lieutenant Ghost, meaning he was waiting for you to move your ass up from the metal chair.

And the longer the seconds passed, you grew more sick and worried, for Ghost wasn’t the most nicest to the newest ones in the team, he was actually very strict and took no excuses from anyone- including you.

Although you haven’t been on that side of him, but you’ve seen it and wouldn’t dare cross that bridge. So far you’ve been one of the best alongside Johnny Soap MacTavish, listening attentively and being the best shot on the job. But now you’re letting a natural cause hold you back, and in shame you couldn’t move or budge.

Not after you were mocked and belittled for it- and it wasn’t even your fault, but of course they all made you feel like it was.

A low gruff was heard above you, and Ghost’s large boots shifted on the ground before he practically barked,

“Well then move Sergeant!? What’d ya eat this morning that was to heavy for you to even get up eh?!”

And to put the cherry on top, when you’re in this abdominal pain, along with your daily sores from the job and stresses, you’re gonna get emotional and teary.

Especially when you knew it could’ve been solved a while ago when you had asked a teammate to help you out, but they had left you out to dry obviously, telling you to stay in that seat while they ran to your barracks to get new pants.

So now you kept your gaze on the ground, refusing to move a bit, not knowing how to explain or hold it all in, until you felt a strong grip on your arm as he lifted you up and spoke in a harsh tone,

“I’ll move you then-“

In panic you grabbed the collar of his vest and held onto the hand that grabbed you as you pleaded with desperate eyes,

“Lieutenant Riley please! Just- please.”

Your bottom lip now quivered a bit, and your eyes frantically searched his, hoping to find mercy in them so he could let you go, but he didn’t. He only locked his cold brown eyes on you, as he tried to read the situation.

That was Simon’s best tactic, he could read people like a book when he wanted to and wasn’t in a bad mood. And once he gave himself the chance to do so, he could clearly tell you were devastated and anguished, as your brows furrowed tightly and your eyes were growing glassy.

In regret at his actions, as he saw your state, Ghost immediately let you go and remembered Soap’s words,

‘Be more understanding of everyone’s situations, you may not always know why they are a certain way.’

He took a deep breath and pat your arm from where he had grasped you, not ignoring the fact how you flinched a bit and a fat tear was wiped away from your cheek by your shoulder. Simon was quick to mumble feeling guilty,

“I’m sorry Sergeant. Didn’t mean to be so harsh-“

“I bled through my pants pretty badly Lieutenant.”

“What?!”

He was ready to check you thinking it was probably an injury, but you instantly grabbed his jaw so he wouldn’t look, and quickly explained,

“It’s not an injury.”

You could see the way his eyes spoke confusion, as he questioned,

“Then what is it Sargeant?”

Your grip on his jaw loosened as you grew shy, realizing how close he was to you, and you grew more conscious of your state. As calmly as you could, you did your best to say the least but enough to understand.

“Please don’t let me say it... I’ve been humiliated enough.”

The gears in his poor head twisted and turned, as he tried to read in between in the lines of your words. He repeated your words in his head, and saw your state-

‘Oh.. OH.’

Ghost sucked in a deep breath and replied his thoughts,

“Oh. Sergeant- ok.. here.”

He quickly shrugged off his jacket, and like a carrying mother, he tied the sleeves around your waist, making sure it covered you were needed. He tapped your waist when he finished and ordered,

“Walk in front of me, let’s take you to your room.”

In a quiet voice you tried to reason, hoping he’d let you go on your own, as you were still a bit embarrassed.

“It’s a long walk Lieutenant- literally across the whole base-“

“Then we’ll go to my office, I have an extra pair of cargo’s.. they adjust to any size-“

He then held your cheek with his gloved palm as he assured you,

“I’m not letting you go on your own, I’ll help you.”

Nodding dumbly because of his sweet gesture, you agreed. And well, that settled it for you, he wasn’t letting you go on your own, so off you went.

Like a guardian angel his broad built covered your smaller form fully, and with a reassuring hand on your shoulder he guided you away to his office.

You felt small in front of his full build, but never insignificant as he treated you like a person, maybe he started off the wrong foot at times, but that’s who Simon Riley was.. he wasn’t used to being all nice and kind. But when he’d find out his mistake he’s pluck it out and make it right ten times more.

In the comfort of his little room, clearly showing he lived there as it smelled like his musky and citrus scent, and the decorations were to a bare minimum (it was actually just the little lamp and a few large bullet casings laid around in different places, like they were posing.

Oh and all the little gum wrapper things you made for him were all resting on his tiny window seal- anyways.. you were safe in his room.

He left you to change in peace after he made you stand in the pants for five more minutes- until you spilled the names of the soldiers that had humiliated you. You really didn’t want to cause them problems, especially with the Lieutenant himself who was stern and harsh.. but he made you understand that it was well deserved anyways.

Now you’re buckling up your fresh pants when you heard the door open and Ghost walk in, his head lowered as he began,

“You good Sergeant?”

Nodding to yourself you replied to him verbally,

“Yes Lieutenant.. thanks. They fit well.”

He took that as your signal of, ‘I’m decent you can look’ so he did, seeing his pants on you. Maybe they did look pretty big on you, but they fit, and were stainless.

Satisfaction with a hint of care in his eyes, he nodded with a soft grunt,

“Alright kid.. Oh and take these… they help with the.. the cramps?”

Smiling a bit at his shy voice coming out and at his attentiveness to what your body was going through, you replied,

“Yes.. the cramps.. thank you.”

“Hmm hmm.. now, be at the shooting range. I’ll be there in 5.”

Worry then crashed, wanting to hit you as you thought about the chance of seeing those soldiers again, but Ghost once again reassured you,

“Don’t worry Sergeant… I got your back. Go on to the range.”

Releasing a breath of relief you sent him a small smile then went, happy and confident to know you had your Lieutenant’s protection. Simon watched you walk away and he felt warmth in his chest, as he was able to provide help and be good to and for you.

Ghost hardly ever practiced shots or trained with you, afraid he’d hurt you or be too stern. But now he was afraid to leave you on your own, and be hurt by someone else. So he figured, you’d be safe and learn well from him, while he’d learn to keep his temper and tolerance in check, as he’d have you in sight.. a win is a win.

[itsjusthockey]

Hey hun!! Could u write about something about Jack getting injured pretty bad with him being his clumsy self and catching his edge or something. Reader feels obligated to pamper him every second of everyday and is just so gentle with him it gets to the point where Jack is like “babe just because I hurt my leg doesn’t mean we can’t make out or do it” cause reader is like so scared of hurting him but Jack is just super needy

Smooth - Jack Hughes

Summer Series Open Now

This was a request, keep sending them I love them (if I get more than five new request, I drop a new fic tomorrow)

I changed a few little things but I love how this turned out

Much longer than expected, whoops

w.c 1,516 (credit to gif maker) (slight suggestive content)

You’re honestly surprised Jack has lived to see the grand age of 22. He may think he’s agile, smooth even, but you know better. In fact, you’d dare even to say that your boyfriend is one of the clumsiest people you know. It’s honestly a miracle he hasn’t broken anything, especially since this summer; he’s really been pushing his limits.

“Babe, Babe! Look.”

You turn your head up from the book you are currently devouring to stare at your boyfriend. You watch as he does a cute little flip on the wave and throws you a couple of peace signs. You smile, give him a thumbs up, and not a second later, he dives off the board and into the lake.

He quickly gets into the boat, grabs a towel, and shakes out his hair. As soon as he’s only a little wet, he walks toward you, sitting right next to you and placing your legs on top of his.

“That must be a damn good book. Usually, you can’t take your eyes off me.”

You roll your eyes at him, gently placing the book down. “Well, if you must know, it is very interesting. Lots of murder, lots of mayhem.”

As soon as the sentence leaves your lips, he snatches the book from your lap, reading the back insert. After a couple of seconds, he hums.

“Looks kinda good.”

You smile and snatch it back. “I’ll add it to your list.”

Jack nods, smiling again at you, and leans over to kiss your forehead. When he pulls back, he nods toward Luke, who is currently surfing at the back of the boat.

“I think I’m gonna go again; try that thing Luke saw on TikTok.”

Once he says that, you narrow your eyes at him.

“The last time you tried something like that, both of you almost drowned.”

This time Jack rolls his eyes, shaking his head wildly.

“Please (Y/N), your lack of faith is insulting. We’re experts.”

You shrug your shoulders at your boyfriend; you honestly don’t care; you know that sometimes their little tricks can become problems.

Mere minutes later, the two of them are hooked up and gliding effortlessly on the water. Quinn is driving the boat, and you’re watching, realizing this may be something you want to see. You’re also sitting beside Trevor, who’s filming the entire thing.

It’s starting great; they do a few little tricks while you and Trev cheer them on. You also catch when Jack does another turn a throws a wink your way, dragging his hand through his hair which he knows you love.

You’re honestly pretty impressed at the pair, not that you’d ever let them know that, but they look good. Everything seems to be going great until it’s not.

You’re all still cheering them on when they reach their final move. One second they’re both good, then in a blink, they both go down, but not before you hear a slight yelp from your boyfriend as he hits the water.

As soon as they fall, Trevor’s eyes dart to you, both of you sharing the “oh fuck” look. Quinn notices this, too, and weaves the boat around quickly.

When you finally get to the pair, they both look a little nervous. Trevor moves first, quickly moving to put down the ladder. Seconds later, he’s helping pull Jack up, Luke also helping to push him into the boat. You can’t help but wince yourself as you watch your boyfriend's nose scrunch up in pain.

As soon as he gets into the boat, he swings his leg up, and everyone can see the blood dripping down and a giant purple bruise forming.

Without saying a word, you grab the first aid kit from the front of the boat and swing into action. You sit across from your boyfriend, wordlessly opening a few supplies. You’re not mad, of course; you’re just worried. Injuries aren’t ideal for hockey players, even if they're small.

“Oh, son of a bitch,” Jack hisses as you wipe some alcohol pads over the rather large cut.

You glance up at him to see some tears welling up in his eyes, and as soon as you meet his eyes, he rips them away. You know he’s mad at himself and, obviously, in quite a bit of pain.

“Is he gonna make it?” Luke asks, watching behind you.

“Don’t know, might have to cut it off.”

You look toward Jack as you make the joke, trying to ease the slight tension, but he doesn’t seem very impressed.

Ten minutes later, you’re docked, and Trevor and Luke are tasked with getting Jack to the house. You stay behind, helping Quinn get the boat settled and doing the glamorous job of wiping your boyfriend's blood off the boat floor.

“He’s lucky that wasn’t worse.” Quinn breaks the silence. “I should’ve backed you up more.”

You shake your head, throwing away the bloody paper towels. “They were gonna do it anyway. He’ll be fine.

You both finish up and go to the house, seeing Luke and Trevor in the kitchen, but no sign of Jack.

“He’s upstairs,” Luke says, gesturing toward the stairs.

You walk by and ruffle his hair slightly, to which he wacks your hand gently away, throwing you an uneasy smile.

You head up the stairs to the bedroom, and when you enter, you see your boyfriend lying on the bed, his foot propped up with some ice on it. As soon as you enter, his eyes follow your figure as you move toward the dresser, grabbing some clothes to change into.

Before you go to the bathroom, you stop.

“Do you wanna shower all the lake and sunscreen off you?”

Jack whips his head toward you, and after a bit of silence, he nods. You move to help him, getting him into the bathroom and helping him peel off his shorts.

Soon you’re both in the shower, and you’re making sure he keeps his weight on the good leg. In the bathroom's light, the bruise and the cut look terrible, and your heart breaks everything he winces.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out after minutes of silence.

You give him a confused look. “Why? It’s not like you planned on getting hurt, J.”

You quickly swipe some hair from his face, forcing him to look at you.

“I know. I just should’ve listened. And also, I was being a dick, which you don’t deserve, but I know if I talked to you, I’d start crying.”

His admission makes you even sadder, and you quickly pull your boyfriend down to meet you. Placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“It’s okay, J.”

You finish the shower, and for the rest of the night, you dote on your boyfriend. You make sure he’s comfy, get you both snacks and turn on his favorite movie. Minutes tick by, and you’re comfortably tucked into his side when you notice he isn’t watching the movie.

“You okay? Tired?”

He shakes his head, and m he pulls you into him, connecting your lips. You smile into the kiss and then pull back away from him. This causes him to pout, and he leans back in, pulling you into him, but you resist.

"Hey now, let's not add more injuries to the list, shall we?" You give him a sweet smile and another quick peck, "How about you settle for snuggling? We don’t need any more dangerous stunts, and we can save that for when you're back to your agile, smooth self.”

Your teasing causes Jack to pout further and rolls his eyes, ducking down the meet your lips again. You slightly let him win, letting him deepen the kiss a bit before you pull back once again. As soon as you do, he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I appreciate the concern, but I still have two legs, babe.”

He raises his eyebrow at his suggestive comment, and you roll your eyes back as far as they can go.

“Gross.”

He snickers, pulling you back in and moving his lips down your neck, stopping at the place you go crazy for. You can’t help but squirm as his lips send tingles down your spine.

“Jack, you're impossible," you laugh, trying to maintain some composure while he continues his teasing assault.

He lifts his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, if I can't be agile on the water, at least I can be smooth here," he winks, earning himself another eye roll from you.

“Smooth, huh?" you quip, a smirk forming on your lips. "I'll believe that when you can walk without limping."

He smiles another big smile, and his eyes grow soft.

“Please, I’m 100% sure you will heal me, and I promise I’ll be careful.”

You stare deep into his eyes, and you feel yourself breaking.

“Fine, but I’ll do most of the work.”

Jack's eyes darken as the words leave your lips, and at record speed, he pulls at your top.

“If that’s the case, I think I want to stay injured forever.”

[lasciviouspoison]

my first full length smut fic! this shit took weeks to edit ngl, but it was worth it. with that being said, there are probably still some mistakes so excuse those, lol. tw: breeding, eren calls himself “daddy”, word “mommy” is used, reader and eren are extremely (heavy emphasis on extremely) frustrated. not a tw, but like i always say, this is for my chubby black women, but all are free to read <3

eren has loved you for an extremely long time. he’s spoiled u, fed u, he’s even dressed you head to toe while you were sick.

yet, all of this spoiling and caring for u, does not warrant your brattiness right now.

he’s been studying tirelessly for his midterm for about 2 weeks now, finally on his last day of review before his test in a couple of days. yet, he can’t seem to focus because you keep coming in and out of your shared study every three seconds.

“‘ren, where are the extra washcloths?”

he looks up from his textbook, glasses falling off his nose a bit. you’re even dressed like a brat, skimpy little white tank top and baby pink panties. it makes his head hurt worse than the passage he’s read over 4 times now.

“there’s no way you’re asking me where fucking washcloths are right now. there’s no way.” he says with some bite to his voice. he just needs to finish these last two pages and the longer it takes him, the more it kills him.

your arms cross over your chest, pushing your bra-less chest up and exposing a bit of your chubby stomach. “does it look like i’m joking with you? where are they?”

he clenches his jaw and in a very clipped tone, he responds that they’re under the sink. you scoff slightly and walk out, making an effort to slam the door a bit harder than necessary.

he sits back in his chair and throws off his glasses, big tattooed hands wiping his face. eren knows he’s been neglecting you, and it’s killing him just as much as you. he’s tired of coming home from class too tired to touch you. he’s tired of you having to tell him to go lay down after his head rocked one too many times over his dinner plate.

he’s tired, but he’s not gonna let you act like a bitch just to get what you want. simply because it’s fucking working.

he pushes up from his desk and walks out of the study. he hears the bathroom cabinets opening, so he does everything but sprint to get there.

you peer over your shoulder at him and roll your eyes, “they weren’t under the sink. in fact, they’re all dirty cause, you know, you act like you can’t help with laundry anymore-“

erens grabbed you by the nape of your neck and brought your body close to his. you can hear his semi-heavy breathing despite still being bent over, which caused your heart to race a little. although you knew eren would never hurt you, it doesn’t mean that his pent up energy won’t go to waste.

“a couple things: one, don’t talk to me like i’m a fucking child. two, i do still help with laundry, there’s a whole basket full of folded shirts sitting on the bedroom floor that i didn’t get the chance to put away. and finally, you that cock hungry, or are you genuinely mad at me?” he finishes with a finger running up your spine, back arching at the feeling. he knows this rills you up, which is perfect for him. you don’t get to frustrate him and remain unscathed.

your eyes widened a bit, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop eren’s hand from moving. you could feel just how hard he was and it made you think that he almost had it worse than you. however, that doesn’t mean your just gonna lay here and take it.

“get the fuck off me eren” you said through tight lips. his hands now steadily making their way under your top, with you making no advances to stop him.

he bent down towards your ear as his body almost covers yours entirely, with his fingers now gently pulling at your nipples.. “you know what’s funny? you can act mad at me all you want, but this pretty pussy is never ever mad at me. maybe i should gag you and let her do the talking, at least she’s not a fucking liar” at this point, eren’s hands feel like hot coals against your body. while they slowly make their descent back down your body, you can feel your resolve slowly melting away under his touch.

before you could reply, his fingers begin to softly move along your covered slit, causing your breath to hitch. you push your hips back a little and eren gives you a breathless laugh in return.

“i know i’ve neglected you pretty baby. daddy’s really sorry, just let me make it up to you. i promise, you can have me all night if you just tell me what you really want”. sometimes, you swore that you could hear the smirk on eren’s lips.

you shook your head no and felt a soft slap to your pussy. you wanted to scream at him and tell him just how badly you missed him, but your mouth refused to open. you bit your lip once he began touching you again, attempting to coax a confession from your pretty lips.

you felt him bend over once again, this time to place small kisses behind your ear, kisses that started to travel down your neck and onto your back. the entirety of his ministrations were torture, but it was when he stopped kissing you and replaced his lips with his tongue to lick a stripe up your back that you really wanted to cave.

eren’s middle finger finally found your bare clit, the initial contact causing you to jump hard against his body. small whimpers leaving your lips as you tried to maneuver on his fingers before he stilled your movements.

“m’not doin anything more till you tell me the truth. what do you want from me baby? tell me and i’ll give it you ya”.

you try to grind against his fingers once again before a hard smack to your ass forces you to stop. his grip on your hips tightening, letting u know that he’s really gonna deprive you until you speak.

“want you to touch me ren! wan’ you to fuck me so fucking bad!” you finally scream out.

every gives you a small chuckle before his middle and index finger burry themselves into your cunt. his body almost shakes at warmth you provide. blood rushing straight to his dick, making him indescribably hard.

“that’s it baby, that’s all i wanted to hear.” he sounds breathless, almost like he’s the one that’s been getting teased.

he’s pumping his fingers in and out of you, a small squelching sound coming from your sopping pussy. your grip on the cold marble counter top has your knuckles turning white. at this point, you’re so desperate for more that your meeting his fingers half way.

with tears threatening to run down your chubby cheeks, you make pleas for more. “ren please, please gimme more. i’ll be good i promise!”

he feels so bad. you’ve never acted like this, even when the two of you were still forced to live separately on campus. the desperation in your voice is surprising him just as much as it’s surprising you.

because he knows you like it when he fucks you with his hair down, he pulls his hair from his already loosening bun and all but rips his sweats off. dick hitting his bare stomach with a heavy thud.

he takes his fingers out of you and rips those pretty pink panties off, he makes a mental note to buy you another pair.

he rubs himself between your sticky folds till his cock is shiny, hitting your clit a couple of times in the process, drawing more whines from you. all he can do is look down in awe. it’s amazing to him just how wet you get from just a couple of fingers, but who can blame u? his dick’s been throbbing for four days straight.

he finally anchors himself and spits, emitting a soft puh before he smiles. you’re such a mess underneath him and he can’t wait to make it even worse. he finally starts to push in, but your tight little cunny won’t let him in no matter how gentle he tries to be.

“lemme in baby… please lemme in” his voice is so strained it’s making u gush even more.

“i’m tryin!” you say with a pout, tears running down your face.

eren knows you’ve always been big on eye contact when the two of you fuck, it’s almost necessary… so, he hooks his fingers into the side of your mouth and forces your head to lift. finally you were able to see that tattooed chest and pretty face, and he was able to see those pretty eyes and beautiful tear stained face.

almost immediately do you loosen up and he accidentally on purpose pushes all the way in, causing the both of you to moan loudly.

“there you go baby, take it for me ya spoiled fuckin brat”. his hands have found purchase on the fatness of your hips, his grip so tight that you think he’ll bruise you. not that you’ve ever cared.

“fuckfuckfuck” is all you can say as you watch his facial expressions through the mirror. his hair is down and there’s tiny beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. he’s gone slack jawed while stroking you, a relaxed expression gracing his pretty face. no matter how many times he’s buried himself in your warm walls, he’s never gotten used to how good u feel. once his green eyes make contact with yours and that smirk graces his face, it makes u realize just how in control he is no matter how gentle he may look.

“squeezin’ me so tight baby.. u miss me that much?” he says with a breathless laugh, voice dripping with sarcasm. the both of you know that going this long without touch was both odd and frustrating. it caused the both of you to miss each other equally, hence why this could be categorized as some of the best sex you’ve ever had.

at this point, he knows you’re gonna cum soon, he can feel your walls pulsing and eren feels like his dick is gonna pop.

“g’nna cum rennie, g’nna make a mess on yo- ugh fuck!” your little hands balling into fists as he hits that spongey spot in you. you can hear just how hard he’s thrusting into you, each stroke sounding more sticky than the last. it’s making your eyes cross and toes curl.

your convinced he’s gonna kill you with that horse dick of his one day.

“let it out baby, i’ll clean it up the mess, wanna feel you cum on me.” even he’s getting whiny now, so it’s only a matter of time before you-

“-ohmygod eren!” you cum so hard that your body’s shaking and your knees are buckling. thankfully, eren’s always there to catch you.

despite chasing his own nut, he desperately wants to see you ride out your orgasm. he’s so desperate that he’s picking you up by your hips, forcing you to do small circles against his waist cause he knows it drives you crazy.

however, it doesn’t take long before he’s digging deep into you again, the force of his thrusts causing your head to bounce a little harder than intended.

“god i’m gonna cum so hard in this pretty pussy. i’m so fucking sorry i neglected you baby.. never again, god i’ll never do it again baby i promise. gonna fill you up okay? awe, you like the sound of that yeah? make you the prettiest mommy for me. promise i’ll take care of you forever. god i love you”. he’s rambling and his voice is getting rough. it’s only a matter of time before he cums.

after finding some strength, you finally look back and smile at him and that’s all it takes for eren to cum. his face screws up and his warm hands slide up your back to make you arch a little deeper. you wish you could run your fingers through his hair so badly, but you couldn’t ask for a better view of your beautiful boyfriend.

after a few moments of silence, eren finally comes down from his high with a big huff of air. gently, he spins you around so you face him. he moves your curls from out of your eyes and gives you a slow kiss on the lips, hands resting gently on your chubby, tear stained cheeks.

after a few moments of silence, he starts to speak, “i meant what i said. i’m sorry i left you alone for so long baby. i just gotta pass this test.” his eyes full of remorse.

“i know eren, i just wanted some attention… it’s really easy to miss you, even if we live together”. small smiles find both of your faces and eren finally pulls out to run the two of you a warm bath.

he strips you out of your tank top and carries you over to the tub, where he holds you tightly.

after some comfortable silence, you can’t help but look over your shoulder and ask the question that’s been plaguing your mind, “you really wanna get me pregnant?”

he looks towards the ceiling and let’s out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “i mean, eventually yes. right now? fuck no”

the two of you fell into laughter while the smell of lavender filled your noses and achy bones were finally allowed to rest.

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 15

Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, smut eluded to/mentioned, mainly a filler chapter taking place in the days directly following the last chapter.

Rolling over Emily felt her body sink even deeper into your mattress, the blankets cocooned perfectly around her and she felt more relaxed than she had all week. She heard the all to familiar creak of your shower tap as it turned off and she let out a quiet groan, she’d forgotten it was Monday. With a reluctantly huff she pushed herself up to sitting, starting to change out of the pyjamas you’d leant her back into the clothes she’d tossed into a spare chair.

“You could’ve stayed sleeping.” Your voice quietly broke through the room as you re-entered it, clad in only your underwear as you stepped toward your closet.

“It’s fine.” She pinched at the bridge of her nose, “I’ve got a mountain of paperwork I need to get a start on.”

“My grocery order got delayed thanks to the weather, best I can offer you is a frozen waffle.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She chuckled, “I usually grab something on the way in anyways.”

“Good.” You turned to her with a grin, “cause I’m pretty sure they’re past the best by date.”

Emily laughed, shaking her head at you, her eyes lingering on your semi naked frame longer than she had originally intended. Your phone pinged and the hanger in your hand dropped to the bed as you picked up the device, your attention fully on it as you face her. It was then Emily noticed the deep purple nearly black bruise on your thigh and she was about to make a comment about your tennis skills until her eyes focused and she realized there was a clear line of teeth marks on the outer edge. Her mind thought back to the previous evening, the band-aid on  your arm mixed with this was a clear sign you’d had some fun in Florida.

“Ugh.” You dropped your phone down on the nightstand, picking up the shirt and putting it on, “you think some people would have the decency to wait past eight a.m. to start planning a date.”

“Date?” Her brow raised in your direction and you let out a huff, stepping into a pencil skirt, quickly fixing your outfit before grabbing a pair of heels.

“Yeah. Heather needed specific support for a legislation and I got roped into going on a date with this congressman’s kid. You flirt a little and they’ll take it a whole other direction.”

She followed you down the stairs, beginning to wonder just how much fun you’d had in Florida, “that a regular occurrence?”

“Depends. Most of the time it’s only dinner or drinks with the added bragging rights of being seen together.” You shrugged, “you want a coffee to go?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It only took you a few seconds to pour her out a mug, fixing it perfectly to her liking before handing it to her.

“Thanks.” She smiled at you, her shoulders relaxing once again when you smiled right back at her.

“I’ll see you Wednesday?”

“Yeah, of course.” With another smile she turned back toward the door, collecting her coat and stepping into her shoes.

“And Emily?” You called out, poking your head around the corner.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever feel bad about calling or showing up, okay? I’d hate for you to be alone at home trapped with whatever haunting thoughts are running through your brain after a bad case.”

“Okay.” She laughed softly a warmth spreading through her cheeks.

“I mean it. And if you’re too dragged down or drunk to drive, I’ll knock down your door. I know it’s difficult being the boss, but you’ve gotta remember, you’re important too.”

“Thank you, really.” Stepping toward the door she pulled it open, grimacing at the view outside, “and you promise me you’re gonna drive safe, it looks like shit out here.”

“I will.”

*

Emily had been right, the roads were pretty terrible, making your commute longer and worse than you’d expected. You’d shot a text off to Heather about running late and she told you not to worry about it, she’d rather have you take your time and arrive in one piece than rush and risk something happening. You were stuck at a light you’d been waiting three rotations at already when your phone buzzed in the cupholder. Picking it up you assumed it was another text from Heather to find that it was your Venmo app, a hundred dollar payment received from Emily.

A weird sensation wormed its way into your stomach and for a moment you thought maybe you’d accidentally used spoiled milk in your coffee. The screen remained on your phone, glaring up at you in the low morning light, and you tugged your lip between your teeth as the wheels started turning in your brain. You knew what your agreement was, you’d signed and added to the contract after all, one hundred dollars for anything that was akin to a casual dinner or simple companionship. In your mind, that meant something like going out to a movie, having lunch during a relaxed weekend, running errands together so you didn’t have to do it alone. Your thumb hovered over the ‘refund’ button, it almost felt weird taking money from Emily for something like her needing comfort, she’d needed a friend or something more in that moment, not a client. Right as you were about to make an impulsive decision, the light changed and the car behind you laid on their horn, causing you to drop your phone back into the cupholder and forget about it for the time being.

Thankfully the rest of the way to the office was relatively clear and you managed to make record time, collecting your things and making your way inside. You thought it was time for a quiet morning, not a lot of people around the building, but right as you passed Heather’s office her voice called out.

“Hey!”

Freezing in your step, you winced, slowly backtracking to her door, “sorry, I did my best.”

“Sweetheart with the quality of work you do I couldn’t give a fuck if you were late.” She opened a drawer of her desk, pulling out a couple of things, “c’mere.” You almost hesitantly entered her office, crossing the space to her desk as she grinned up at you, extending a sealed envelope, “from Rob.”

“Oh, perfect.” You tucked it into your bag.

“You alright?” She asked, surveying you for a minute.

“Yeah, drive just frazzled me a little bit.”

“Okay.” She glanced down to your purse, “are you going to open that?”

“It’s basically only for my peace of mind anyways. I’ll let you know if there’s any wildly shocking results.”

“Better hope you’re not pregnant, I’m not raising another one.”

“God you are such a comedian, and at this hour of the morning. Just how do you do it?”

“Anymore sass and you’re not getting the other thing I have in here for you.”

“Oh?”

She chuckled softly, pulling out a small box from the drawer and handing it to you, “good job in Florida. You really upped your game.”

“Thank you.”

“On the contrary, I should be thanking you.”

“Isn’t that what this is?” You gestured to the gift box.

“That’s for last week.”

“Then…what are you thanking me for?”

“Keeping the appropriate kind of secrets from me at the appropriate time.” She smiled, “Now go on,” she shooed you away, “you’ve got more important things to do than stand around gossiping.”

**

Despite not calling the team in until Wednesday, Emily found herself back at the office midday Monday, working through as much as she could to make sure every report she handed off to Bailey had an excruciating amount of detail with all the I’s dotted and t’s crossed.

Tuesday she stayed stationed at her desk the entire day, working well into the evening, thanking the desk clerk for bringing up multiple rounds of take out so she wasn’t surviving on coffee alone. It was a heavy paperwork week, there were a handful of invoices still sitting in her inbox she needed to explain what were for and sign off on before sending them up the chain, payroll needed to be completed and her inventory needed to be double checked and sent off. With the team coming back in tomorrow she was hoping she could get most of it done by noon considering once their paperwork was done she needed to sign off on it before it went up the chain and there was always the chance of them catching another case. She was starting to wish she’d pushed them coming back until Thursday at this point.

Her phone buzzed on her desk and she glanced up, honestly welcome for the intrusion as she blinked her eyes a few times, pushing her glasses up onto her head as she dropped her pen, flexing her hand in an attempt to relieve the cramp. Picking up her phone she was surprised to see Heather’s name flash across the screen and she quickly swiped open the message.

‘Sorry to bother you, I know you’re likely busy as all hell but I would love to get your professional opinion on something sometime this week.’

‘Yeah, of course. What are your office hours looking like this week? I’m probably going to be swamped tomorrow but could manage to disappear for a midday so called lunch.’

‘I was thinking more along the lines of after hours. Any chance you think you could swing by my place Thursday around eight? I promise you’ll be sent home with a to go plate from dinner and a bottle of Macallan.’

‘Oh well, twist my rubber arm why don’t you.’ Emilylaughed softly, ‘send me the address again, I know you’re Chevy Chase but can’t remember much past that.’

‘You’re a gem. Thank you.’  ‘3301 Fessenden St NW’

Emily put down the phone, picking up the pen to scribble the address into her desk calendar, chewing on her thumbnail as she looked through all the notes written down. Her eyes landed on the green ink on Wednesday evening and she let out a small huff before picking up her phone again, selecting your contact.

‘Hey, I know we scheduled for Wednesday but do you think there’s any chance we can push it to the weekend, Saturday even? It’s payroll week and quarterly end and I didn’t quite realize how much I’d let pile up.’

She waited a few minutes, taking the opportunity to continue with her break, scrolling through a few apps and replying to another couple of personal text messages in the meantime before her phone buzzed once again.

‘Fucking hell I forgot about fucking payroll.’ ‘Yeah the weekend is totally fine. And don’t stress about making a reservation or anything yet, if you’re too wiped when the time comes we can just wait til next week, I won’t be offended.’

‘Alright.’ She laughed softly, ‘I’ll pencil you in for Saturday then?’

‘Sounds perfect.’

‘Why are you worrying about payroll?’

‘Heather’s PA is on vacation; I’ve been covering the more complicated duties while she’s gone.’

‘Pain the ass, hey?’

‘Absolutely. When you’re a kid you think being the boss is gonna be the coolest thing, turns out it’s all paperwork.’

‘Tell me about it.’

She let out a small laugh, placing her phone back down on the desk as she let out a small sigh and slid her glasses back on. If she was going to keep adding to her week, she better pick up right where she left off.

**

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the Dunbar household on Thursday evening and Rob was the one who got to there first, pulling it open to enthusiastically greet Emily.

“Hey, come in, come in.” He gestured, swinging the door shut behind her, “it’s been a while.”

“It really has.” She laughed softly, accepting the brief one armed hug while he offered to take her coat and she was able to toe off her snow coated shoes.

“How’s the bureau? Heat tells me you’ve moved up to Section Chief?”

“Oh, entirely too much paperwork and definitely not enough fun.”

“Sounds like you need a vacation.” He half teased before calling down the hall, “Heat, you’ve got company.”

It only took a couple of seconds before Heather had rounded a corner down the long hall, actively wiping her hands off on a dish towel as she approached them.

“Thank you so much for coming.” Leaning in she pressed a kiss to her cheek, “there’s straight liquor and wine upstairs but we’ve got mojito and negroni’s going in the kitchen if you prefer.”

“Wine is fine.” Emily assured and Heather turned to her husband, passing off the dish towel.

“Would you make sure you pack up a nice container from dinner for her, and don’t skimp! Lord knows she’s been living off small town takeout.”

“Double portions of everything, got it.” Rob replied with a small salute to his wife before disappearing down the same hall.

Heather’s hand quickly pressed on the small of Emily’s back, directing her up the stairs, “sorry it’s a bit chaotic in here tonight.” She commented, no doubt addressing the amount of noise bouncing around through the house. “You’d think two kids coming home for dinner would mean just that and maybe some laundry but Jordan’s taken over the basement entertainment system with a group of his friends, Becca’s got a mock Jeopardy battle going on to help study for winter exams and Rob’s entertaining one of the biggest hospital owners in the State.”

“Sounds like none of you Dunbar’s know how to rest.” Emily teased, following Heather into her home office.

“I would say the work ethic’s in the genes but I’m pretty sure the boys are playing Grand Theft Auto downstairs.” She turned back around, handing off a hefty glass of wine to the other woman, “how about you? Have things calmed down at all?”

“In the sense of field work, I guess. But the paperwork never stops and it’s just so dull.” She groaned, “I really don’t know how you keep up with your workload.”

“I’ve got a rather large and very talented and committed team, most of whom I raised from the ground up.”

Emily nodded, her ears picking up the sound of stilettos on the hardwood, almost like they were pacing up and down the hallway, another dinner companion that seemed to be on the phone, little hums and huffs every so often until your voice hit her ears. She could just make it out over the small talk her and Heather continued to have before diving into things. You were using a sickeningly sweet yet also a completely dominating voice that Emily had never heard before. There was a husk to it, but it also sounded like utter silk and she was practically melting, her attention drifting from Heather’s voice more than she meant it to.

You’d been approaching Heather’s office to use to finish up your private conversation but once you made it a foot from the door you realized that she had company. Trying both not to interrupt and also not be clearly overheard depending on her guest, you lingered in the doorway as you talked.

“Ohohoho..” you let out a low laugh, “come on now Frank, you know Ms. Dunbar needs this done by the end of the week, I’m sure you have even the tiniest sliver of time to squeeze us in. How about I get us a table at Palm Court? You know I’ll be sure to have the Wagyu flown in from Kagoshima, just like you like it.” You barely let a beat pass, “don’t you worry about Claire, I’ll keep her nice and busy, it’s been a while since we’ve met up and lord knows I need a fresh manicure.”

Feeling cocky enough that you’d sealed the deal you made the slow steps towards Heather’s door, keeping your voice quiet enough to not disturb her conversation.

“That’s what I thought. Thank you.”

Heather glanced up at the sound of success in your voice as you stepped into the office and small smirk overtook her lips. Emily watched as you dropped the façade, your body relaxing though you still absolute exuded power and confidence. Rather than a cute little skirt and top, she figured it was the weather that made you opt for the very form fitting pant suit, white tank blouse dipping just below your collarbone to leave enough for imagination but entice everyone, blazer likely strewn somewhere else in the house. You crossed the room, tossing Heather’s work cell down onto her desk.

“Underwood will meet you at two on Friday.”

“I—What?” It was Emily’s voice that cut in first and you glanced toward her with a grin on your cheeks.

“What?”

“You’re on first name basis with The President?”

“Part of the job.” You shrugged, “besides, his wife always has the best gossip.”

Emily practically gaped, looking between you and Heather, watching the other woman chuckle softly.

“See what I mean? She wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight, showed up to finish this deal for me because I wasn’t answering my phone.”

“Yeah…” She nodded, still a little dumbfounded by the entire thing. She knew you were well intermingled with varying levels of politicians but she hadn’t expected something of this magnitude. Then again, when her eyes surveyed over you once more, she could see the sheer amount of power just drifting off you, the only time she’d seen you in work mode before was the very first day she met you and she was starting to realize why Heather had teased her for drooling.

You cast her a smile before turning back to your boss now that she had sat behind her desk “I’ve done by due diligence tonight, but I’m finished babysitting. Becca’s gonna ace her exams, Rob’s sweeping the floor at poker, but your other kid’s an idiot, they’re daring each other to a bellyflop competition.”

“They took the cover off the pool?” Heather groaned, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah. A hundred bucks says the hot tub’s next.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Good thing there’s a slew of doctors in the house.” You teased and Heather rolled her eyes as you turned to Emily, squeezing at her elbow with a bright smile, “good to see you. I love that colour.” Your fingers toyed with the lapel of her blazer and a glinting in the low light caught her eye, an absolutely stunning cluster of diamonds and yellow gold on your wrist, “it looks phenomenal on you.”

“Thanks.” She smiled, her breath nearly catching in her throat as she glanced up at you and you smiled, turning back to Heather.

“You owe me, big.”

“What? Twenty three grand wasn’t enough?” She asked with a tease and you rolled your eyes as you started to make your way out of the room.

“I refuse to pawn gifts, you know that.” You called over your shoulder, “so don’t you dare make me work Christmas.”

“You don’t even celebrate the holidays.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like bonus time off,” you turned, resting your hand on the doorframe, bracelet sparkling, “maybe even a few days at one of the plethora of vacation bundles you have stocks in?”

“Thought you said you were done working and thus, done bothering me? Sometimes I regret giving you your own key!”

Heather raised a brow, laughing when all you did in return was flip her off and disappear from her view. Emily chuckled, finally taking a sip of her wine, though her eyes lingered on the doorway as if she could still see the diamonds glinting.

“Something catch your eye?” Heather asked with a smirk and she finally turned back to her, gently dropping into a chair.

“Uh, guess I hadn’t seen her in work mode in a while.” She admitted, feeling her cheeks heat, “didn’t realize she accessorized so well.”

“You like the bracelet?”

“Yeah, it’s stunning.”

“Harry Winston.”

“Damn.” Emily’s eyes widened, “they don’t even list the prices on the website, you’ve got to go in.”

Heather shrugged, “she worked hard for it. Florida certainly earned her a little extra winter bonus.”

“Huh…” Emily nodded, going to take another sip of her wine right as everything managed to click together like puzzle pieces. She quickly masked herself before her eyes could widen again, sucking back more wine as a distraction. A strange sensation began to twist in her lower stomach, one that she didn’t really like at all but it continued to grow as she thought about the woman across the desk from her buried between your legs.

Heather surveyed her for a moment as she took a sip of her own bourbon and she could have sworn she saw the tiniest hint of green flash through her dark eyes. Her head tilted slightly, the sudden way Emily was picking at her thumbnail was speaking pretty clearly but now she was wondering if you had shown up on purpose, flaunting the jewelry. You’d mentioned something to her earlier in the week about Emily cancelling a date, perhaps the grey haired woman wasn’t the only one with green in her eyes.

“Anway,” Heather interrupted with a huff, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, right.” Emily snapped out of it, glancing up towards her with a smile, “what’s up?”

“Have you heard of an Officer Patterson, out of DC Metro?”

“I—uh..” Emily nearly tensed, briefly remembering the very early phone call in your kitchen a few months prior, “heard of him…”

“He was the one that arrested my son.”

“You.. know about that?”

Heather chuckled, “Jordan’s an idiot, neither he nor his friends can keep a secret very long.” She sighed, “I did a look through the papers, this guy’s a prick. I thought he was just preying on the rich and somewhat famous but he does the same shit with people who can’t afford a good attorney. I want his badge.”

“Don’t you have a lot more power than I do when it comes to that kind of stuff?”

“Potentially.” She took a swig of her drink, “I just figured you might have some contacts at Metro PD who had their own stories or opinions, I know the blue doesn’t like to turn on their own but there has to be a reason this guy’s still a rookie after all these years. Thought you might be able to pull his jacket, take a look through it?”

“You really don’t let people fuck with your family, huh?” Emily asked and Heather nearly snorted.

“Jordan deserved what he got,” she laughed, “he’s damn lucky he wasn’t behind the wheel of a car. I don’t want his arrest expunged or shoved under the rug; I could have done that myself. But I do want to look into this Patterson and see what can be done about it.”

“I’ve got a couple of friends and Metro, and I can see what I can pull up from my database.”

“Thank you.” Heather smiled warmly, her eyes darting up when there was a knock on the doorframe.

“Bad news, I’ve gotta take one of Jordan’s friends in.” Rob said.

“Oh god, what now?”

“They tried to use the diving board without wiping the slush off.” He explained and Heather groaned.

“For fuck’s sake.” She drained her drink, “let me guess, slipped and broke something?”

“Ankle.” Rob replied, then glanced towards their guest, “Emily the bag on the kitchen island is for you, wouldn’t want you to forget it.”

“Oh, thank you so much.”

Rob disappeared from the doorway as Emily finished her drink, following Heather’s lead to standing and moving from the office down the stairs.

“Thank you for coming, and for now I’d like if this could be kept as off the record as possible.”

“Of course.” Emily nodded with a smile as she accepted the bag that definitely had more than one portion of food in it before finally making her way out of the house.

**

When the weekend rolled around you and Emily ended up swapping your date night over to Friday instead, and Emily was honestly glad that you did. She got a call halfway through her work day that a pipe had burst in the basement of her apartment, no water would be available for the next twenty four hours. There had been yet another surprise snowfall and even though it wasn’t that big the roads were terrible and the last thing you wanted was to drive all the way home after work.

This was why it was lucky Emily still had her standing reservation at The Waldorf.

You caught up a bit over dinner and drinks, Emily curious to know more about how often you were in close quarters with the President and First Lady. You rattled on about a couple of things, shared the stories you knew you could, flashed your fresh manicure and shared some gossip you’d gotten from Claire that afternoon. In turn Emily delved a little bit into how her week had been now that she’d finally caught up on paperwork, she had stories about the team she’d never even thought of telling you, the entire evening seeming a little more casual and open than any prior. However that didn’t change the circumstances when you got upstairs, clothes quickly falling to the floor as you dropped onto the bed and became a mess of sweaty tangled limbs.

Emily lay half wrapped around you, her head on your chest as you were propped up on the pillows, a mid nineties rom com playing on the late night television. Your hand was gently playing with her hair, soothingly scratching at her scalp as you did so.

“You okay?” You asked, pressing a gentle kiss to her head.

“Yeah.” Her lips brushed against your collarbone before a tiny yawn escaped them, “it’s just been a long week.”

“Want me to dig into Bailey or anyone?”

“No.” She laughed, “I mean, yeah he’s being a total ass about the last case, but it’ll blow over.”

“Okay.” Your hand trailed up and down her back softly before returning to play with her hair.

“Thank you though.”

“Anytime.” You replied, leaving another kiss on the top of her head.

The next morning you were gone before she woke up, you’d warned her about that the night before, you had brunch plans with Tony and if you bailed on them again you had no doubt he would track your location and show up wherever you were. It did give her the chance to sleep in far later than she thought she would, it was almost noon by the time her eyes opened. She wasn’t used to that, usually have to set an alarm in hotels to make sure housekeeping wasn’t trying to kick her out already.

She ordered room service for breakfast, including a couple of extra meals for the rest of the day and took a very long, luxurious shower. Picking at the leftovers of her first meal while she was wrapped in the cozy warm hotel robe she let the tv play some mindless shows for a couple of hours before she finally gained the energy to start the trek home.

Downstairs she passed off her valet ticket at the concierge and started to flip through some brochures and ads while she waited.

“Anything I can help you with ma’am?” A clerk asked her.

“Uh…” her eyes lingered on the resort in Monarch Beach, the wheels turning in her brain, though that location would be far too chilly to really enjoy this time of year. “You guys have properties all around the world, right?”

“We sure do.” They replied with a bright smile, turning to grab a couple of binders, “thinking about a last minute Christmas getaway? We’ve got quite a few resorts that specialize in the festivities, lots of stuff for the family and kids to take part in.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head, “not Christmas, definitely no kids, but definitely somewhere warm. Probably tropical, super fancy… a little exclusive… you got anything like that?”

They grinned across at her, pulling out a smaller binder, “I think you’ll find our private resort in the Maldives right up your alley.”

____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @Soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @scarletwitcher97 @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath You Take (4)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, voyeurism, longing

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every Breath You take (3)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

You wake, once again, from a deep slumber you yawn and look around your bedroom. Last night you had the best dream.

Your dream man stepped out of your dreams and came to you to cuddle you in your bed. His scent still lingers on your clothes, and you sigh, wishing he’d stayed for a little longer.

“Well, he lives only in my dreams,” you press the plushie your secret admirer gifted to you to your heart. No matter what your colleague says, you cherish the cute cat. Whoever sent the flowers and the plushie to you must mean well.

You put the plushie away, putting it on top of your pillow. “Sorry, I got to go to work,” you sigh and pat its head. “I’ll be back soon, and we can cuddle some more.”

While you reluctantly slip out of bed, already regretting it the moment your feet touch the cold floor, Bucky watches you get ready for work.

He hums as you stretch in front of the wind. “We could work out together,” he says. “I think we will start with an easy workout.”

Alpine meows and turns their attention back toward the food in the bowl.

“What do you say, Alpine? Do you want to go shopping for her?” Bucky rubs his scruffy chin. “Maybe we could accidentally bump into her next time she goes grocery shopping.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, it’s too soon. We need to get to know her even better.” He lies to himself. Bucky is scared to mess things up and tries to buy himself some time. “We’ll send her another gift today. I hope she’ll like it.”

“You got another gift from your stalker,” your colleague wrinkles her nose. She huffs because you ignore her jab. “You should call the cops or something. I just know that guy is a creep.”

“Why?” you look at the new gift. Your secret admirer sent an orchid to you this time. A beautiful yellow phalaenopsis. “They sent me an orchid. I love them.” You smile and carefully run your fingertips over one blossom. “I got them in many colors. How could they possibly know I didn’t have a yellow one yet.”

“Stalkers gonna stalk,” she quips while glancing at the orchid. “I’m telling you; they are going to become creepier in no time. Soon they will send you underwear or shit.”

“Underwear,” you gasp. “Oh, my.” You touch your heated cheeks. “You think they’re going to send me underwear? Maybe lace or satin.”

“You’re…crazy,” she huffs and storms off. “If you disappear, I won’t call the cops.”

You shrug. “I don’t know what’s her problem. The orchid is beautiful, and they didn’t do anything wrong. It’s a nice gift, nothing else.”

“Alpine!” Bucky calls for his cat. “She’s back and she got the orchid.” He grins when you step toward the window to place the new beauty on your windowsill. “She likes the orchid.”

Alpine ignores its owner once again. The white furball prefers getting comfortable in Bucky’s lap. “What else could we get for our girl, Alpine? We gave her flowers, a plushie, and an orchid.”

He wrinkles his forehead. “I got it!” Bucky jumps up, much to Alpine’s chagrin. The cat lands on the floor, hissing at their owner. “I’ll gift her my first edition of The Hobbit. She’s got a lot of books, but no first edition.”

Bucky walks toward the shelf he bought some weeks ago. A single book and his sunglasses the only things the only things he placed on the shelf. He grabs the book and smiles.

“I hope she’ll like it as much as I did when I read it for the first time.” He flinches at his own words. A memory wants to flash up in his mind, but he pushes it away.

Most of the time Bucky doesn’t allow himself to think about his life before Hydra.

Even if those memories are pleasant. It pains him to remember his life before the winter soldier, and all the losses he had to endure.

“I need to buy more wrapping paper, Alpine. Make a mental note.”

Bucky carefully puts the book on the small table next to his armchair. He’ll wrap it tomorrow and send it to you. Bucky wants to see you smile again.

“Ladies, we got a new roommate,” you talk to your orchids. “She’s a little shy, so be nice.” You giggle at your silliness. “Yellow queen, welcome to my home.”

You step away to admire your windowsill. “So beautiful. I wonder if he knew that I didn’t have a yellow one yet. He must be very observant. I can’t believe my colleague called him a creep. My secret admirer was nothing but kind to me.”

Smiling you just look at your collection of orchids for a moment. It makes you feel calm and happy just looking at them.

Sometimes, if the world gets too much you get lost in daydreams of flowers and fairytales. You are enchanted by the pretty flowers until you remember you had plans for tonight.

“Shoot! I still need to get changed. My show starts in not half an hour!”

Today, you leave the curtains open. Not only in your living room but in your bedroom too.

You slowly strip your clothes off and put on a show for your secret admirer. He won’t see much because you didn’t switch the light on, but you want him to see you for longer than a few moments.

If he’s not brave enough to talk to you yet, you’ll wait for him to reveal himself.

All you know is that he’s out there, watching over you like a guardian angel.

Part 5

Tags in reblog.

[nayatarot777]

Unpopular opinion:

Pride and ego is NOT a bad thing when you correct it and when you build it healthily. There’s a reason why so many women are willing to act like someone they’re not, let a man tell them who they can and can’t be, etc. Who in tf are you in this world? YOU control the answer to that question. And the longer you don’t know who you are, the longer you’ll be manipulated, moulded, and played into being someone else for someone who doesn’t even love you for you. Your ego is your protector. Hence why it’s a natural part of childhood development, around the ages when you get more social interaction with the outside world. So if you’re walking around without much of an ego, you’re walking around with little to no protection. That’s the equivalent to living in a house without locks. Or leaving your car unlocked at all times. Does that sound smart to you? And could you be surprised when you’re an easy victim for others to invade your space and take from you? No. You couldn’t. So for those of you who lack ego and pride and are always taken advantage of: what tf are you surprised or shocked about? You’re literally allowing yourself to step out into the world unprotected. Despite knowing how dangerous the world can be. You’re not a perpetual victim to life. Life/God doesn’t hate you. You’re just a vulnerable person who has, for some reason, kept yourself vulnerable in a place full of danger. Can you be surprised when people view you as someone who’s easy to take advantage of and use? No. And don’t mistake this for being blamed for other peoples actions. That’s on them. But you definitely can be blamed yourself for your actions (or lack thereof), such as: NOT putting in boundaries, NOT protecting yourself, CHOOSING to keep yourself vulnerable.

With that being said, how can someone “love you, for you” when there is no core “you” to show them? And that’s exactly what your ego is. Who you are as a human being that you show to the world. It’s your strengths that you put on the forefront when you’re manoeuvring through life. It’s also a fraction your authentic self as a human being - hence why people who are not authentic have such fragile egos. They’re easily hurt, right? Easily put down and diminished without much confidence left afterwards. The people who either don’t fight back against injustice towards them, or they do, but they don’t know how to fight back effectively. It’s quite illogical to expect for people to love you for you when you wouldn’t even be able to tell/show someone who you truly are - simply because you don’t even know who you are. Or because you don’t think that who you are is good enough so you’re willing to pretend to be someone that you’re not.

Please understand, ladies, this world will chew you up and spit you out if you ALLOW it to. Define who you are and stick to that, and don’t ever change unless the change is what YOU want. More men do exactly the opposite, and that’s why you can’t tell men shit about themselves. For better or for worse. They know who they are a lot more than we do and they stick to it. The ones who don’t are the ones who are taken advantage of by others - just like many of us.

I could never understand how so many girls and women around me were so willing to ALLOW a man to tell them how they should/shouldn’t dress. Who they can and can’t be friends with. Where they can and can’t go. How they can and can’t act - especially in relationships. It confused me and, I’m not gonna lie, I thought that it was just stupidity on women’s part that played a part in that. But I had to check myself and identify the difference between women that I knew who were like that and women who weren’t - instead of just boiling it down to mass idiocy through my own ignorance. I was raised around a lot of brothers, and a Jamaican family in general. Jamaicans are known for being quite prideful (ngl, in more toxic ways), but my brothers would also never allow me to let other people tell me who I should and shouldn’t be. Thats when I came to the conclusion that the major difference is pride and ego (which is heavily linked to self respect and self esteem). Thats when I realised that it wasn’t stupidity - it was brainwashing and conditioning. And I believe that for centuries, men broke down the egos of women because they know the truth about being egotistical. They know that when you’re egotistical, you’re not going to allow someone else to impose on who you think that you are, for the sake of pleasing them. You’re going to be confident in yourself and not put yourself as a lesser being to someone else, which only leads to you becoming a complete people pleaser or a doormat. Basically the perfect victim for those who want to control and manipulate.

There’s a reason why so many women who have acted like doormats feel so much shame after all is said and done. Thats your ego and pride telling you that you deserved better and you knew it deep down the whole time. That you haven’t acted in a way that you can even be proud of yourself (because of your lack of pride). And that you put up with bs that you should’ve cut off time ago. Think about it.

[darling-im-wonderstruck]

you’re always gonna be mine ✧

request : “hello! could you please write something where peter is telling reader how he no longer remembers when he last called reader by her name bc he’s constantly using pet names and it’s all about young love and it’s just 🥺”

synopsis : late nights with peter never failed to put your heart at ease at the end of each long day. all your worries and doubts seem to disappear in his presence, including your fears about first loves (and first heartbreaks).

pairing : peter parker x reader

wc : 772

warnings : nothing worth warning ! mostly fluff, and the tiniest bit of angst if you squint ! + normal sized text below !

a/n : hii <3 it’s been so longgggg, i hope this fic makes you smile as much as it did for me ! would love to thank @strawberrystarcake, my beloved sister for the summary <;3 this and @parkerpeter24 + @toms-gf for encouraging me throughout the process and giving me their opinions (love you guyss) 💞 this was a request from my old blog that i only ended up writing now :’)

“random thought, but i honestly don’t remember when i started calling you babe instead of your name.” peter blurts out, seemingly out of nowhere.

it was late at night, you two were all snuggled up in bed, your head rested atop his chest, just about to take a well deserved good night’s rest. right now, he’s unbelievably adorable though. his eyes were halfway closed, his heartbeat steady, and he sported a soft smile on his face that you couldn’t help but return.

you two were basically tangled together, your right hand holding his right, your left gently playing with his hair.

“mm, i can relate. though, i do prefer using lovebug for you.” you smile, removing your hand from his hair and focusing your attention on playing with his hands instead.

“spiders aren’t technically bugs though, they’re arachnids.” he says, earning an eye roll from you.

“shut up.” you chuckled, causing his already present smile to widen.

“but, in all seriousness, i do love that pet name.”

 “in all seriousness, i’m pretty sure that you’ll love anything i say.” you half joke, though, it’s honestly somewhat true.

“you’re right. it’s sort of concerning at this point.” he laughs softly. “wait a sec… is that my shirt?”

“you mean our shirt? yes.” you respond, a proud look on your face.

“well, it looks lovely on you, way better than it does on me.” he looks at you with pure admiration.

moments with peter like this were rare, and so you treasured them. moments of relaxation and peace, it seemed as if the world had gotten in the way of you and peter up until this point.

and you were scared.

scared that, it was some sort of sign. people say young love’s a loss or a lesson for a reason. but somewhere in you, you knew (hoped) that you two would be the exception. but being like this, with peter was what took all your doubt away, and where the doubt was, it was replaced with all the love you could ever give and hope for.

this, is where you always wanted to be. this is what you always wanted to feel.

a moment of silence followed, comfortable silence. just enjoying each other’s presense. god, you loved this.

“i love you.” you say, breaking the silence.

peter leans in, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he whispers, “i love you too. more than i could ever express with words.”

“you’re actually perfect.” you smile, gently tapping the tip of his nose, immediately causing a flush of bright pink to spread throughout his face. “my everything.” you add.

“you, my princess, are my entire world.” 

you look down, causing a look of concern on peter’s face, “do you ever get scared?” you sigh, looking up, straight into his eyes.

“scared of…?”

“i dont know, just, this, all of this, going away?” you mumbled softly, but peter heard you, and most importantly, he understood you.

“well, if i’m being honest? yes. sometimes i am scared. i’m afraid that we’ll lose what we have because i feel like i have everything i need, here, with me, and the thought of losing it all? terrifying. but, i think that we’re,,, timeless in a way.”

“timeless?”

 ��timeless. i almost feel like, no matter what happens, we’re intertwined. i like to think that, at least. like, no matter what timeline, no matter how many years back or in the future, no matter the universe,” he chuckles softly, “you’re still mine and i’m still yours. i dont think that any possible version of me wouldn’t have fallen for you and i think you still wouldve fallen for me too. i mean, who wouldnt?” you giggled at that, softly hitting his arm.

“i guess those thoughts give me comfort, assurance, almost. ‘cause it tells me that, this,” he tightens his grip on your hands, “what we have, is something unbreakable and meant to be. besides, i’m not planning on leaving you anytime soon.” he shoots you a wink, which, you honestly found cute.

“y’know what? i don’t think i have much to worry about anymore.” you say slowly, looking up from peter’s chest to get a look of his face. the sight of his messy curls and skin illuminated by the moonlight from your window made your heart melt.

“oh?” he grins, making eye contact with you. “yeah, not when i have you. you always know what to say. and… you’re right, you still would’ve turned my head.”

a/n : thank you for reading loves ! i don’t allow any reposting if my work here, or on any other platforms. reblogs and feedback are very very much appreciated, luv you all ! requests are open xx

tagging a few of my mutuals ! (hope you guys don’t mind <3 i wont be tagging you guys every time tho ! just for now bc i dont really have a taglist yet) : @live-laugh-lovejoy @cagethemunson @saturnpeter@tomsholland2412 @jesslockwood @maraistookmyheart

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Burning Love

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 26. Burning Fandom: MCU, Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, f!reader Summary: When you and Bucky are captured, HYDRA scientists try to force you to use your powers to kill him. But you refuse to hurt the man you love, regardless of how much pain it may cause you... Word Count: 2171 TW: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Whump, Burning, Torture, Self-Sacrifice, Self-Inflicted Wounds, Laser Beams, Damaged Vision, Bucky Carries Reader, Happy Ending Notes: Thank you to @ohtobeleah for looking this over for me 💞 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

“Doll, please, open your eyes.” The desperation in Bucky’s voice as he pleads with you breaks your heart, but it’s better than the alternative if you comply with his wishes.

You twitch your head as much as the leather restraint across your forehead will allow, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. Through gritted teeth, you grunt, “Not gonna happen, Sarge.”

The pain coursing through you is horrible, but knowing what it would do to Bucky if you gave in is enough to make it bearable—somewhat. Unlike his body, yours is more equipped to handle the damage caused by the laser beams you can shoot from your eyes. While it has taken maybe an hour to get to this point—where your eyelids and surrounding skin are charred, bubbly, and blackened like a flamed-broiled marshmallow—you would have cut through Bucky’s flesh in seconds. Which is why you are fighting so hard to protect him from your open eyes. 

“Turn it off,” a frustrated voice growls behind you. “We'll have to try something else.”

The searing sensation in your eyes disappears and you shift against the numerous restraints holding you into the metal chair. It feels so violating to have these HYDRA scientists hooking you up to their machinery, digging through your brain, and activating your beams as they see fit. You wonder if this is how Bucky used to feel back when he was the Winter Soldier.

As the scientists fiddle with the equipment behind you, you hear a tender voice call out to you. “Are you okay?”

“Right as rain,” you mumble. “How you doing, Buck?” The last thing you saw before you began forcing yourself to keep your eyes closed was Bucky being strapped into his own chair directly across from you.

“Horrible. Watching you barbeque yourself just to spare me…Doll, you can’t keep doing this. You won’t survive it much longer.”

You gave him a wry chuckle. “I’ve been accidentally burning myself with these things my entire life. I can take it.”

“For how long?” You don’t answer. “Please, look at me. I need to see you’re okay behind all of this.”

As much as you want nothing more in this world than to stare into Bucky’s loving gaze one last time, it’s not worth the potential cost. “I can’t. They could turn them back on at any second and…I can’t risk it.” 

“I’m not worth all the pain they’re putting you through. I don’t deserve this kind of sacrifice—not after everything I’ve done.”

Smiling in his direction, you whisper, “When will you stop blaming yourself for what they made you into and see the man you truly are? The man I love.”

It sounds like Bucky is about to say something else but, before he can, an angry voice from behind you barks out, “I’m tired of this game. Increase the power.”

Bucky screams, “No!”

Suddenly, the pain behind your eyes increases exponentially and the pressure within your head becomes unbareable. An inhuman screech is ripped from your lips. Something in your vocal cords snaps under the strain. You smell the faint whiff of burning hair mixed in with your cooking flesh and wonder if the last of your eyelashes have finally been seared off. Your bare toes scrap against the cold concrete as they involuntarily curl as all the muscles in your body contract. Every other part of your body is restrained by the straps holding you down, but you begin violently shaking as the tension within you becomes too great.

The small part of your mind that’s still coherent wonders if your eyes roll back into your head if you’ll fry your brain and end this torture. Maybe it is worth it to try.

You have no idea how long they keep your beams on this time—all your remaining focus and energy is on keeping your eyes closed. Bucky is screaming, crying, begging, but his voice sounds echoey and far away so you can’t make out his words. You aren’t sure what HYDRA will do to him once you’re gone, but you pray he fights them with everything he has.

Finally, the machine behind you is flipped off and your body sags against your restraints. Without them, you know you’d topple to the floor, no longer possessing the energy to hold yourself up. Everything hurts now, not just your eyes. But you’re still alive which means you aren’t done fighting.

You hear footsteps approaching and you recognize the voice of the man in charge as he curses, kicking one of the legs of your chair. “This is ridiculous. How many of you fucking idiots does it take to make her kill the Soldier? Just pry her eyes open, clamp them in place, and turn the machine back on.”

You grin weakly, feeling blood dripping down your chin where you had bit your tongue. With your ruined voice, you croak, “You can try, but the second any of you put a finger near my eyes, I’m burning it off.” 

The man beside you yanks on the restraint across your forehead, tightening it to the point you feel bones crack. You let out a soft whimper as the man growls, “Fine. We’ll turn it up to full power and leave it on. Let her burn completely through her eyelids. Then we’ll get the results we want.” You hear him turn and march away.

For the first time, your resolve wavers as a small sob bubbles up in your chest. Your body may be resistant to your beams and can repair wounds sustained from them, but it takes time. If these scientists can make you burn through your eyelids—and based on how everything is starting to look a little brighter through your closed lids, it seems like a very real possibility—then there is nothing you can do to stop them from hitting and killing Bucky. 

You hear the scientists murmuring and fiddling with equipment somewhere far behind you, but you still don’t dare open your eyes in case someone is still at the machine and flips it on the moment you look at Bucky. Yet it won’t matter for much longer if they carry out their plan. 

“Doll…” The word is whispered so low you can barely hear it.

“Buck…,” It’s hard to whisper with your ruined voice, the sound more of a croak than a real word. But you hope he can understand you with his super-soldier hearing. “I’m sorry. I-I can’t stop this.”

“I know. You’ve done so good so far.” Even in a whisper, the love in his voice feels like a comforting embrace. “But I have a plan. You just gotta trust me.” 

“I do. You know I do.” 

“Then when I tell you to open your eyes and turn on your beams, whether they’re making you or not.”

You sob, “But Bucky—”

“Trust me!” he hisses. 

“Okay…okay, I’ll do it.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Doll. Whatever happens, I love you. And this isn’t your fault.”

A single tear escapes your ruined eyes and rolls down your scared cheek. “I love you too. But we both know, it is.”

Bucky doesn’t respond. However, you can hear a soft scraping and shuffling from his vicinity. Maybe he found a way to escape. Or maybe…he couldn’t be asking you to kill him. After all the pain and suffering you’d put yourself through to keep him alive, he wouldn’t have you take him out now just to end both of your pain…would he?

But you promised to trust him and you do, so when you hear him mutter, “All the way down and to the right. Now!”, you follow his instructions.

Shifting your gaze behind closed lids as far to the right and downward as they’ll go, you open your eyes and blast without a second's hesitation. 

Your beams strike Bucky in the center of his left forearm, just a few inches above his wrist. Even though it is his metal arm, you are horrified. You thought he had found a way to get you to blast open his cuffs or melt his chair, and in a way, even killing him instantly would be better than this. His vibranium arm is advanced enough that it still allows him to feel sensations such as texture, pressure, and—what concerns you in this situation—temperature and even pain. Instead of ending his life with one blast, you are now forcing him to endure the same agony you have been going through. 

As the metal begins to glow under the intense heat of your beams, you want to screw your eyes shut once more. But Bucky told you to do this and you promised to trust him. Even though he is grunting and panting because of the pain, he isn’t telling you to stop so you keep your beams focused on his arm. 

Eventually, the red-hot glow expands and soon reaches his wrist. In moments, the metal restraint liquifies and Bucky wrenches his arm free. Without having to be told, you slam your eyes shut once more.

You can hear the sounds of fighting all around you: guns firing until their clips run empty, flesh sizzling against metal followed by screams of agony, bodies being flung around the room and crashing to the floor. 

But then everything goes silent.

For a minute, nothing happens. You are just about to call out when a pair of lips press lightly against yours. Jumping slightly, you quickly recognize the kiss. You try to lean into it but the strap across your forehead holds you firmly in place. 

Parting from your lips and pressing his forehead against yours, Bucky whispers, “It’s okay. You can open your eyes now. It’s just you and me.”

Slowly, you peel your eyes open. The world is cloudy and out of focus with huge black spots obstructing your vision. And yet, there was no mistaking the person kneeling in front of you. 

Weakly, you smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he murmurs back.

“H-how bad?”

Bucky’s brow furrows as he runs his thumb gently around the edge of your eye socket, the now cooled metal somewhat soothing against your damaged skin. “It’s really bad, but I’m hoping it’s worse than it looks. Once you get checked out—”

“Not me,” you whisper. “How badly did I hurt you?”

You can hear the smile in his voice even though you can’t make it out. “I’ve had a lot worse. And it’s because of you that it was as minimal as it was. You should’ve just vaporized my head from the very start.” 

“Nah. I knew we’d find a way out eventually.”

“Liar,” he teases. Then, with a more serious tone, he asks, “How’s your vision? You’re blinking an awful lot and that can’t be comfortable.”

You try to think of how to describe what you are seeing. “I can see some shapes, colors, movements…that’s about it. No details. But even that’s a miracle at this point. I’ve never burned myself this badly before.”

“Will they…will they heal?”

You try to shrug but you are still strapped to the chair. “They should. They always have before. Healing the burns is tied into my powers.” You swallow and flinch at the sharp stab of pain cutting down your throat. “My voice, however, might be another story.”

Bucky gently runs his fingers down the side of your neck. “I’m sure SHIELD has some specialists who can help you. But first, we’ve got to get back to them. So let’s get you out of that chair.”

He began unlocking each of your restraints and you can’t stop a moan from escaping. Your skin had been rubbed raw where the metal dug into your skin, and your muscles ache from how tensely they had been clenched in pain. Bucky must have noticed this, because as he undoes each strap, he massages the area, loosening up the muscles enough to ease some of the tension. But every inch of you still throbs in pain. 

As Bucky unlatches the last restraint, he asks, “Do you think you can walk?”

“I’m not sure. Everything hurts. But maybe once I get going—” You try to rise from the seat but barely make any progress before collapsing back down. You look up at Bucky sheepishly. “I guess that’s a no.”

Carefully, he lifts you into his arms and carries you towards the exit. You can’t see where you’re going and the slight bobbing of your vision as he walks is giving you a headache. 

Leaning your head against his chest, you let your damaged eyes drift softly closed. Then you mutter, “I think I need to sleep for a bit. Helps my recovery time.”

You feel Bucky’s lips brush against your temple. “Rest, Doll. I’ll take it from here.”

Nodding softly, you begin slipping into a deep slumber. You are still in a lot of pain, but you don’t regret a single moment of what happened. You’d do it all again if at the end you could be safe in Bucky’s arms once more.

[cluelessbees]

Yknow what ? I think Byler getting Murray’d would be more heartfelt than anything else.

Because like-

Murray doesn’t just call out Jopper and Jancy because it’s obvious. He points it out because he knows they’re being stupid. In their cases, it’s really just them not communicating their feelings to one another and trying to pretend they don’t exist.

But with Byler it’s like…it’s different.

Because it’s not just that is it? We’re not just watching two people pine over one another whilst being oblivious to the fact they other likes them back. We’re not just looking at two people who can’t communicate well. There’s more to it.

Because they’re two boys who have been best friends since childhood. They grew up at the peak of the AIDS epidemic. They live in a small town and they’re expected to act a certain way. It’s different for them.

I don’t think Murray is gonna waltz in acting all holier than thou and essentially out both Mike and Will to one another. He’s a smart man as we’ve seen. He’s attentive. He doesn’t just call jancy and jopper out to prove a point he knows what they both need to hear so they can get over their miscommunication hurdle.

I think he’s going to go up to them. Either both or just Mike or Will or whatever, and he’s going to talk to them about it. Because that’s what they need. They need someone to talk to them about it. And I don’t think he would start with just directly talking about it. I think he (and this is me headcanonning Murray as queer) would open up first. Like about his own experiences- to show them that he gets it, and he knows what it’s like. And then he would casually bring up the whole byler thing.

Hmmm something along the lines of...

Okay– picture a conflict Mike Wheeler sitting by himself – either on the couch or on the floor or whatever. And, he’s stuck in his head. A lot had happened. He broke up with El and he’s struggling to grasp what he’s feeling about his best friend. And there's this…weird tension between them that– he just– he can't put his finger on. But they’re off. They aren’t clicking like they used to and Mike can’t seem to fix things. 

So he sat alone, trying to understand or comprehend whatever he’s feeling whilst everyone else is god knows where in the house. Will was in the kitchen though. Mike knew that much. And then suddenly, he felt a weight on the couch seat next to him or the space on the floor beside him was no longer there and he heard the words of Murray Bauman pull him out of his thoughts with the weirdest fucking ice-breaker he has ever heard.

“Y’know…I was like you when I was younger.” 

“Really?” Mike asked – mostly out of disbelief as he scanned Murray. No way. Not a chance. 

“Oh yeah…” Murray smiled, nodding to himself as he continued. “I know it's hard to believe it, but I was this…brash, stubborn, reactive teen who loved going against authority. I was very...headstrong in my beliefs.” 

He paused and Mike turned to him. Murray had his head down, looking at his lap silently, and Mike didn’t know what to do but watch or…more– listen to the silence. 

“And…I was also in my head a lot.” Murray looked up, turning to Mike once before looking forward again. “I was angry at things – at people and at myself because…no matter how much I pretended like I loved being a freak…a part of me hated that I wasn’t normal…”

Mike felt cold. His heartbeat raced as he turned away from Murray – facing forward and staring at his lap as he continued to listen.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah…I was-- going through a lot of stuff internally that I tried pretending didn’t exist.” He paused again – taking a deep breath. “I was…in love with someone who I didn’t want to be in love with.”

“...You were?” 

“Yeah…” Murray laughed to himself. “Yeah…it was– well he was…my best friend.”

Mike held his breath.

“I fell for him. And I was mad at myself for falling for him. Because even though I knew it wasn’t wrong…I just kept thinking about how I wasn’t supposed to like him. Because that’s not normal– Well ‘normal.’” Murray airquoted, rolling his eyes. Mike’s eyes were glued onto him at this point. 

“So…I grew angrier. And I took it out on myself. On him. Even though he didn’t deserve it. Even though I loved him– I just..I let my fear get the better of me and I pushed him away until I lost him…And I hated myself for doing that.” He breathed, another pause, before finally turning to Mike. “It took me a long time to realise that there was nothing wrong about loving someone.”

Murray tilted his head towards the direction of the kitchen as he raised his eyebrows – and it clicked to Mike.

“I..” Mike’s throat felt dry. “You know?”

“I had a hunch.”

“Is it obvious? Does he–”

“No, he doesn’t know. Your secret's safe with me, kid.”

“Okay– good.” Mike paced his breathing. “I just…I– I can’t lose him because of this. If he knew– if– if he knew he would–”

“He’s your best friend right?” Murray cut him off.

“What? Yes but–”

“Then. he could never hate you, Mike. Not about this.”

“How do you know that?”

“Call it…another one of my hunches.” Mike knitted his brows together.

“Look – kid, I’m not going to force you to tell him or anything. It's your choice at the end of the day. And I can’t say much, but it doesn’t take a genius to know how much that boy cares about you. And you care about him, correct?”

Mike nodded. 

“And you trust him?”

Mike nodded again. “With my life.”

“So…all I can say is…if you trust him? Then...trust him with this.” Murray began to stand up. “Take it from me. Holding it in only hurts the both of you.”

And then Murray leaves

Anyways yeah thoughts––

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 5

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I did it. I made the masterlist and started my playlist as well. They'll be linked at the beginning of every chapter, I'll add them to the old ones as well.

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 1.9k+

You knew that you were good at your job but hearing someone not only tell you that but how you made them feel… your heart was soaring. You studied Bradley’s handsome face. You loved everything you saw, his puppy dog brown eyes, faded scars on his cheek, and a perfectly groomed mustache.

“I don’t know if you quite understand how much that means to me,” You inhaled slowly, “I see a lot of people who don’t get better.”

He squeezed your hand gently, stroking his thumb along the back, “I cannot even imagine what it’s like.”

“I don’t…” You stuttered, “... nevermind. Whatever, it’s not important.”

Bradley sat up quickly, “It is important. What you have to say is important.”

You signed, “I’m just burnt out. I thought that travel nursing, having a change of scenery every contract and the larger paychecks, would help with the feelings of overwhelming exhaustion… from caring for people who will never get better. But it hasn’t.”

“How long is your contract here?” He asked.

“Four more weeks but I’ve already been asked if I want to extend, they’re so understaffed… And I really love San Diego,” You explained, “So I’ll probably do it. But… I just don’t know how much longer I can do it.”

He nodded, selfishly so pleased that she wanted to stay here. “What about another unit? Another kind of nursing?”

You smiled weakly, “I’ve thought about it, I’ve thought maybe now would be the time to pivot towards the kind of nursing I actually want to do.”

“Which is?” He asked, tugging a little at the hand that was still in his, just beckoning for you to scoot closer.

You obliged but couldn’t look him in the eyes, “I wanna deliver babies.”

Bradley’s eyes lit up, “You would be incredible.”

Usually when you told people about your aspirations to go into labor and delivery, they’d say something like, “Isn’t that too big of a 180 from what you’re used to doing?” or “Good luck getting into that specialty.” Nobody ever unquestionably validated your desires.

“Yeah but those jobs are so hard to come by,” You shrugged, “They’ll never hire me.”

“So you’re telling me… that you… the nurse who had me extubated and breathing on my own before noon on the first day she met me, couldn’t get her dream job? Fucking nonsense.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and shook you gently.

You laughed nervously, mostly because you liked the feeling of having both his hands on you. “I mean…”

“Get up and get your laptop.” He demanded, “We’re looking for jobs.”

You blinked at him in disbelief.

He smirked, “It’s an order, Y/N.”

Bradley came back to your couch with another bottle of wine in hand, “Some liquid courage.”

You slid your glass across the coffee table towards him, “No applications are being sent under the influence, just looking.”

He sat down next to you, uncorking the bottle with ease and filled your glass, “Fine but I’m gonna be checking back in with you.”

“How?” You asked sassily, “You don’t even have my number, Bradshaw.”

“Well… I do know where you live but I’d rather be less of a fucking creep and just have you put your number in my phone.”

You held out your hand, “Cough it up, Chicken man.”

He rolled his eyes and handed you his phone, “It’s Rooster, Sassy pants.”

You started putting your information in his phone, “Should I put myself in as ‘Nurse Y/N?” 

Bradley laughed, “I mean you can, but I think we’re past the point of you just being my nurse.”

You raised your eyebrow, “Is that so?” 

“I mean… have you ever invited a patient into your apartment for a bottle of wine?” He asked. 

“I guess not,” you shifted in your seat and finished entering your info with just your name.

Bradley studied it when he took back his phone, “You might want to add a little heart in there… for good measure.” He handed the phone back and winked. Good god, he was so bold. It was so hot.

Your cheeks flushed but you did as you were told, adding a pink heart emoji next to your name.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Bradley…” Y/N said softly after they had polished off their second bottle of wine.

“What’s got you worried?” Rooster asked, he could hear the concern in her voice.

“I…” she searched carefully for her words, “I’m not sure that you should drive home…”

He chuckled, “Trying to get me in bed already?”

Her cheeks flushed again, bright red. It was the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life. “That’s not what I was getting at, Bradshaw! Get your mind outta the gutter!”

“Uh huh, sureeeeeeee!” He teased.

“If you have to know,” she explained, “I don’t think you should drive home because we’ve been drinking a lot. And the last thing I want is your ass back in my ICU.”

Bradley loved that she cared so much and was still a little silly about it, “I don’t drink and drive. I promise you that.”

She nodded, “Good because I’d respect you a hell of a lot less.”

“Let’s do this,” he proposed, “I’ll grab an Uber home, sleep off this wine, and then when I come to get my car in the morning, I’ll take you to brunch?”

A smile spread across her face, “I really like that idea.”

Rooster had never been so excited for a hungover Sunday morning in his life. He rarely drank wine, so he woke up with quite the headache but didn’t even care. Leaving Y/N’s apartment was uneventful, in all honesty. He didn't want to kiss her until she made it clear that she desperately wanted it. Yes, they were clearly into each other. But this wasn’t the type of girl he wanted to push too far too quickly, no matter how badly he wanted to taste her sweet lips. 

After showering off the hangover and making sure he smelled fresh, he changed into his usual civilian uniform. Jeans, a white undershirt, a Hawaiian shirt on top, and a pair of aviator sunglasses. Before leaving his bungalow, he checked himself in the mirror at least 15 times. Did he have anything in his teeth? Did his hair look stupid cuz it was still a little wet?

“Get it together, Bradshaw!” He muttered to himself.

He ordered his Uber and directs it right to the parking spot where he left his car in the back of your building. He quickly got in and headed towards the front. Deciding on music felt too time consuming, he just wanted to get to Y/N’s as soon as possible. When he pulled up to the front, he saw Y/N patiently waiting on a bench. Her legs were crossed, she intently stared at her phone, but looked up as soon as she heard the purr of Rooster’s car. A bright smile spread across her face as she stood up, Bradley’s mouth went dry seeing her in a floral sundress. Holy shit.

“Long time no see!” She chirped and tucked her phone into her purse.

Bradley climbed out of his car and met her at the passenger side door, opening it like the gentleman he is, “You look… wonderful.”

“Awww thanks, Bradshaw!” She buckled herself in, “Another Hawaiian shirt, I see.”

He jogged back around the car and hopped into the driver’s seat, “You’ve seen two of the many in my collection.”

When he turned the car on, Scar Tissue by Red Hot Chili Peppers started playing through the speakers.

“I love this song!” Y/N reached over and turned up the volume.

Despite having to drive, Rooster couldn’t help but intermittently look over and admire the woman sitting next to him, singing along quietly, with the wind whipping through her hair.

“Ugh!” She cried out over the music, “It’s so beautiful!”

Before he could stop himself from saying something so cheesy, he replied, “So are you.”

Y/N smiled sheepishly and didn’t know how to answer, so she started singing along with the Chili Peppers, “Blood loss in a bathroom stall, southern girl with a scarlet drawl…”

Rooster just smirked to himself and kept sneaking peeks at her, he loved leaving someone who always knew what to say speechless.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

You nervously stirred your iced latte a little too intently in its very aesthetic mason jar, trying to figure out how to tell him your news.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” He asked, resting his chin on his fists.

You smiled, “I sent in a couple job applications this morning.”

Bradley’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, “That’s amazing! Where abouts?”

“Naval Medical Center, obviously… UCSD, Scripps, Sharp…” You listed off the names.

“All in San Diego?” He asked.

You nodded, “I really really like it here, there’s nothing better than being able to walk to the beach on my day off.”

“I try to start most of my days off with a run on the beach, I don’t even need headphones sometimes… It’s nice to just listen to the waves.” He mused.

The cute server that took your drink orders popped back to your table asking about food orders.

Your eyes widened with embarrassment, you hadn’t even looked at the menu.

Bradley took one look at you and asked for the server to come back in a few minutes.

“I hadn’t even looked at the menu…” You giggled.

“It’s okay, I always get the same thing so I wasn’t looking either.” He said.

You looked down and scanned the menu, “How stereotypically California of me would it be if I ordered avocado toast?”

He chuckled, “Almost as stereotypically California as me, always ordering the breakfast burrito.”

“Are you from here?” You asked, since this was kind of a date, now would be a good time to ask these introductory questions.

“Kinda… My dad was a naval aviator too and he spent some time here before he died. But I grew up mostly in Virginia since that’s where my mom’s family is. But she died when I was sixteen. After college, I commissioned as an officer and haven’t really had a homebase since. I just go where the navy needs me” He explained.

You reached across the table and held out your hand, “I’m so sorry, Bradley. I can’t imagine that kind of loss.”

He sighed and placed his hand on top of yours, “Some days are easier than others, most days are, actually. I don’t remember much of my dad, I get upset with myself for it if I think about it too much.”

“How old were you when he died?” You asked.

At this point, Bradley was struggling to make eye contact with you. You could tell this was a really hard topic for him, “Four.”

“You were just a little guy… basically a toddler.” You tried to comfort him and stroke the back of his hand with your thumb, just like he did to you last night, “It’s not your fault that the memories are hazy.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I guess I never really realized just how young I was when he died.”

You desperately wanted to dig deeper and to learn more about the man in front of you and the people who raised him, but it didn’t feel like the right time. “This feels like a… sacred topic of conversation. Maybe we should put a pin in it and have it another time, maybe somewhere more quiet and private… when you’re ready.”

He squeezed your hand, “I would really, really love that, Y/N.”

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