#i want coffee but then again i was supposed to be off snoring a few hour ago

[ptergwen]

hiii

so this might me dirty but hear me out

It has gotten to me that mans come can meddle w the woman’s dna

so with this as an inspiration, and I know it’s kinda cliche but

stark!reader suddenly having spider senses or smh (not pregnancy)

oh and it’s for Tom Holland spider man

have an amazing dayy

a parker thing

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w/c: 2,364

warnings: smut (p in v unprotected, lowkey dom!peter and reader), swearing

a/n: jump scare if you didn't see my post lmao i'm back y'all! i missed u guys and missed writing lots so i’ll be here from time to time again :) i had so much fun with this req thank you for the idea! much love to u all <3

you catch yourself dozing off and jerk your head up instinctively. one short, loud snore passes your lips as you do so, eyes opening wide. you blink your tired eyes a few times as you readjust to the harsh lighting.

ugh, you fell asleep in the lab, something you always chastise peter and your dad for doing. they're notorious for their long hours spent messing around with stark tech. you've lost count of how many times you've woken up to an empty spot in bed where your boyfriend should be, instead finding him fast asleep surrounded by cups of coffee and a delirious tony still on the grind.

tonight, you're the stark who's in the lab past their bedtime. you had the day to yourself and decided to use your free time to upgrade your suit. it had had a few hiccups during the team's last mission, so you wanted to work on it before the next one. what was supposed to be a few minor tweaks turned into a whole day of tweaking.

you scoff at yourself and wipe some drool that crusted onto your chin. oddly enough, you almost instantly refocus on the screen in front of you. it's been like this for most of the day. you're way more concentrated than usual for some reason, more aware. you figure it's because peter has been out on patrol and couldn't distract you.

"are you finished for the night, boss? you aren't usually here this late."

"i know, but i’m gonna stay a little longer. i’ll be done soon...i think."

friday dims the lights directly overhead so they aren't as harsh. you smile.

"thanks, fri."

you sit up in your seat, scooting in closer to the screen displaying your suit. you carefully look over the prototype and pick up a pen to write yourself some notes. when you go to put down the pen, it sticks to your palm. you shake your hand to try to get it off. it stays stuck.

"huh."

you use your other hand to pry the pen off of you.

"weird."

first you have heightened senses, now you're sticky. if you didn't have ordinary stark dna, you'd think you were part arachnid like peter.

you're not sure why, but you suddenly stand up and turn towards the main doors to the lab. they slide open a few seconds later. peter walks inside, spider suit on and mask off. he pads over to you with a soft smile.

"there you are. friday said i could find you down here."

peter pecks your lips and envelopes you in a hug. you sign contentedly, face nuzzled into his neck and arms winding around him.

"yeah, she's probably sick of me. i've been down here all day."

"you're really locked in, huh? how's the suit coming along?"

peter's fingers rub up and down your back ever so lightly. just the small touch practically sends shivers down your spine.

"good. fixed everything and double checked, then triple checked. started adding some new stuff, too."

"new features? like what?"

"you know the one i was telling you about..."

you trail off as peter's hands slide down to your ass. he pulls you in closer to himself, letting his hands rest there. you peek up at him, heart speeding up.

"go on, i’m listening."

peter gives your ass a gentle squeeze. it's an innocent gesture, really, but your senses are going crazy right now and you can't help but to get turned on. you always tease peter about how easily he's turned on. if this is what it feels like for him, now you understand.

"hm, i'm bored of talking about the suit. tell me about patrol."

"it was good! got a lot of action today. i mean, i guess that's not good 'cause that means there's more crime and stuff, but y'know. anyway..."

you stare at peter's lips, but don't listen to a word he's saying. it's the first time today you can't focus. he's pressed right up against you in his damned tight spider suit, and his hands are still on your ass, and you're so hypersensitive and hyper aware. all you can think about is how bad you need him.

"y/n? you okay?"

peter must have noticed you spacing out.

your gaze flicks between his eyes and lips before your own lips wordlessly capture his in a searing kiss. peter lets out a breathy chuckle, caught a bit off guard by your abruptness. he deepens the kiss for a moment, then pulls back with a look of amusement. you bite back a cheeky smile.

"horny."

peter's features form a smirk.

"i got you, baby."

he kisses you again. his tongue tangles with yours, a sigh passing your lips. peter lifts you up, grip becoming firmer on your ass. you wrap your legs around his waist. he kisses down your neck until he finds a spot he wants to mark. you tilt your head to the side so he has more access. peter's lips suck roughly on your skin, teeth nipping at it playfully. you let out a shaky breath.

peter presses one last kiss to what's sure to become a hickey to soothe it. you tilt his chin up towards you again, lips smashing into his, holding him in place by the back of his head. he carries you to the nearest table while your intertwined lips move desperately against each other's. you sneak a hand down to the bulge in his suit, earning a groan.

"one sec, lemme get this off."

peter sets you down on the table and quickly strips off his spider suit. you take your own clothes off and toss them aside, left only in your bra and panties. peter comes to stand between your legs. he slips your panties to the side, middle finger collecting your wetness as he kisses you again. his finger slides into you with ease and begins to pump. you moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair.

"already so wet, baby. don't even have to get you warmed up."

peter's finger curls inside you, cockiness evident in his tone and on his features. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck.

"stop teasing, parker."

"can't take it when the roles are reversed, stark?"

something takes over you in that moment, the same something that's been coursing through your veins all day. you grab both of peter's hands and hold them in place above his head. your grip is tight around his wrists, too tight for him to break free of it. a noise almost like a growl escapes you.

"shut up and fuck me, or i’ll fuck you."

peter meets your wild eyes, his pupils equally as dilated.

"do it."

you promptly pull peter up to the table with you. you push him back so he lies down, pinning his arms down at his sides. his chest rises and falls, breathless.

"woah, what's gotten into you today? not that i’m complaining, but, woah."

"i know, right? i thought you were supposed to have super strength."

peter grabs you by your hips and sits up, seating you in his lap. you wiggle your hips in his grasp, but he digs his fingers into your sides so you can't move. peter's voice drops low.

"what was that?"

you breathe out a low laugh.

"nothing."

you dip your head down to press your forehead to peter's. he smiles, satisfied with your answer. you wrap your hand around his hard cock and stroke him. peter's lips ghost over yours, his breathing heavy.

"wanna feel you, y/n/n."

peter slides his hands up to your waist so you can move again. you smile knowingly. you slip off your panties before you reposition yourself, your legs on either side of him. you line up peter's cock with your entrance.

"wanna feel you too, pete."

you lower yourself down onto peter. you both let out little sighs and moans as he fills you up.

he always feels so good inside you, but this time is even better, even more intense.

you arch your back to find the right angle, shifting backwards a bit. once you're both comfortable, you begin to roll your hips. peter exhales a breath he was holding, lifting his hips up to help you out. your movements are slow, fluid. peter supports you by the small of your back, eyes hooded and lips parted for air.

"fuck, i'm not gonna last long."

"me neither."

he kisses you, softly but with so much passion. you let your eyes flutter closed and kiss back. you place your feet flat on the table for more stability and straighten your back, starting to bounce on his cock.

"y/n..."

peter's voice comes out almost like a whine. you chuckle at that.

"i know."

you grab onto peter's shoulders for more support as you move, up and down, back and forth. peter leaves sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. the once quiet lab is now filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your wetness every time his cock thrusts into you. you're both so close, and you can hardly hold out any longer.

peter grabs your hips to stop your movements. he takes over, thrusting up into you at the same delicious pace, only he's the one in control. you let out a series of short, high pitched moans, head thrown back as peter's cock hits the right spot in you over and over again.

"that's it, y/n/n. sound so pretty, baby."

peter half speaks and half groans. you reply with your own noise of content, squeezing yourself around his cock as you reach your high. peter is close to his.

"god, fuck."

he's panting. his thrusts speed up a bit until his hips stop moving altogether. he pushes deeper into you with one final moan, his cum filling you up, making you feel warm inside. you both recently agreed he could finish in you; it's a new level of intimacy.

"fuck, baby. woah."

you bury your face in peter's neck in response. you try to catch your breath, falling forward into his arms.

"oh my god, pete. that was..."

"yeah."

peter hugs your waist. he slowly pulls out of you, making you wince at the new emptiness.

"sorry."

he peppers tender kisses to the side of your head. you remove your face from his neck.

"it's okay."

you ruffle peter's hair with a tired smile. he kisses your cheek, smiling back. you give him another peck on his lips. you yawn, today's and tonight's activities catching up with you once again.

"aw, you tired?"

"mhm. you must be, too, spidey."

"exhausted. let's get cleaned up, then we'll go to bed?"

"sounds perfect."

peter helps you down from the table. you quickly step into your panties in case any cum leaks out of you. he picks his suit up off the floor.

"okay, that was insanely good. i mean, it always is, but something was different. i wonder what it was."

peter shimmies into his suit so his lower half is covered. you're putting on the rest of your clothes.

"i don't know, i’ve just been super on my shit today. really focused and stuff."

"explains why you were so locked in on your suit."

"that might just be a stark thing. actually, it's a parker thing too."

you poke peter's chest playfully. you collect some of your things from your work area, some miscellaneous supplies sticking to your palms as you do.

"why does this keep happening?"

peter watches curiously as you huff and shake paper clips off your palms.

"funny, that reminds me of when i first got my powers. took me a while to figure out how to control it, being sticky."

"uh huh. did you spill web fluid last time you were down here or something?"

"i don't think so, but it would have dissolved by now if i did. i haven't been in the lab for a couple days."

"oh. maybe it was someone else."

peter quirks a brow.

"i don't see any web fluid over there, y/n/n."

you turn to face peter.

"so why am i sticky?"

between this, your strength, and your heightened senses, peter puts it together. you have powers.

his spider powers.

"that might also be a parker thing. more specifically, a spider-man thing."

"you don't mean... no."

if peter is saying what you think he's saying, that confirms what you had thought earlier.

"uh, yeah."

peter crosses over to you. your eyebrows knit together.

"we must share some dna."

"but how? that wouldn't be possible unless we were, like, related... ew! please don't tell me we're fucking related!"

"baby, baby." peter laughs softly, taking one of your hands in his. "stop freaking out."

"you should be freaking out too! you were just inside me, peter, fucking me raw! you came in me!"

"exactly."

peter's voice is way too calm for your liking.

"exactly? what do you mean 'exactly'?"

"think about it. sperm is made up of dna."

"so what?"

"well, i wasn't born with this dna. it got mutated by the spider bite. so no, we're definitely not related."

you tentatively soften your gaze, allowing peter to lace his fingers through yours.

"since i got my powers from the mutation, i guess you got them too when i started finishing in you."

you gasp, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

"you mean you mutated my dna? you have radioactive cum?"

"something like that. you're not mad?"

you toy with peter's fingers, looping an arm around his neck.

"nah, it's kind of cool now that i know what it is. you're gonna have to teach me how to use the powers, though."

"of course." peter returns your smile. "now that you've got new powers, you gotta rebrand. maybe you could call yourself spider-woman."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you? come up with something more original."

peter's arms wrap around your middle, smile growing into a toothy grin.

"you could also use mrs. parker. it's gonna be your name someday, anyways."

you put your other arm around peter's neck with a laugh.

"mrs. parker, i like that."

(too lazy to use tags lmao)

[agi-ppangx]

low battery (han jisung x gn!reader)

no warnings, fluff/comfort, just two lovers comforting each other after a long evening; 0.5k words

author's note: this was requested by my lovely green, i hope you'll like it although its not my best work<3 also its not proofread so i apologise for any mistakes and typos🫡 please remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

“baby?” jisung called out as soon as he heard the door open, followed by your heavy sigh. you remained silent as you took off your shoes, happy that you don’t have to wear them anymore that day. dropping your bag on the floor you dragged your feet to the living room where jisung was laying on the couch, a fluffy blanket draped over his shoulders as some anime was playing quietly in the background. 

“hi,” you muttered, giving him a little peck on the forehead, and decided to grab some water from the fridge. “i thought you were supposed to go out with the boys tonight?” 

he sighed at your words, pausing the show. “i joined them for a while, but they invited their girlfriends and it felt too crowded after a while.” 

“did you at least have fun?” 

“i mean, yeah, we went to that new restaurant down the street. i have to take you there sometime, the food was amazing,” he responded with a small smile and you mirrored it. “i had to give up karaoke though.” 

you let out a little mhm, sitting down next to him and hugging him. for a moment it was silent between the two of you, you didn’t really know what to say more, you knew exactly how he felt after the night out.

“how about you? how was the dinner?” jisung broke the silence. 

“boring, tiring… do i have to say more?” you whined, taking a sip of your water. you put the bottle on the coffee table in front of you and without a word laid down, placing your head on jisung’s lap. “my boss was so annoying, he kept making those weird jokes about dogs. he was so drunk, you wouldn’t believe it,” you giggled as you recalled your memories from a few hours ago. he laughed at your words, trying to imagine your boss in that state and soon after the comfortable silence once again settled between you two. 

when jisung and you started dating you were afraid he’s gonna think you’re weird for being so tired after nights out. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy it, but social interactions simply exhausted you. as a kid your family used to make fun of you for wanting to leave any types of family parties, thinking that your weariness was a sign of disrespect. that’s why when jisung happened to not only understand you perfectly in that matter, but also feel the same, you were relieved. some might think it’s nothing, but you finally felt seen and validated.

“i’m so exhausted, sungie…” you yawned.

“i know, baby, i know,” he whispered, running his fingers through your hair. you closed your eyes, relishing in the quiet moment, glad that the day was almost over. “you can rest now, i got you.” 

“i love you,” you mumbled quietly, but he managed to catch that, smiling to himself before leaning over and placing a kiss on your temple. 

no more words were said as you melted into jisung’s lap. soon your soft snores and the anime on the tv were the only noises in the apartment as you recharged, feeling the most comfortable in each other’s presence. 

taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver

[starkwlkr]

you should definitely have Olivia + her brothers do that challenge where it’s like “who’s more lenient” “who’s more strict” and the kids dunk Hugh and Mom head into water or something like that 😭 and then have Mom & Dad do it to them “who is more rebellious” “who asks for more money” “who does their school work” etc

do it for the tiktok | hugh jackman

an: thank you anon for the request!! olivia back at it again with the tiktok trends 😭

marvel actress!reader masterlist

“But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well for starters, you’re not supposed to drown me in the bowl!” You were nervous, but prepared yourself.

“Mom, you have to do it for the tiktok!”

Olivia had the bright idea to do a tiktok trend with her family. She found the audio for the trend then quickly explained the trend to her parents. On the table were two large bowls filled with water. When Olivia explained, you were certain so many things would go wrong. You sat next to Hugh, who was more than ready.

“Alright, are we ready?” Olivia asked everyone. Alex and Reese mumbled a ‘yes’ while Hugh have a thumbs up, you nod. “Okay, lets start.”

“Who’s more strict?”

You were dunked into the water by all three kids without warning. It was fast, but it caught you by surprise. “Oh my god.” You said when you came back up.

“Who’s the messiest?” You and Hugh stayed safe for that question. You were both pretty organized people.

“Who’s is the worse driver?”

You already knew it was coming. Your head got dunked in the water by Olivia.

“I’m not that bad!” You protested.

“Who snores the loudest?” Finally it was Hugh’s turn to get dunked. Water spilled everywhere, some splashing on your clothes.

“I don’t like this game anymore.” Hugh wiped his face off with a napkin.

“Who’s more likely to get arrested?”

None of the kids knew the answer so they didn’t do anything.

“Who’s the cooler parent?”

For that, both you and Hugh went down. At least the kids thought you were cool and that was all that mattered.

It was now the kids turn to be dunked into the water bowls. You added a third one since it was Alex, Reese and Olivia. You and Hugh were more than ready to get some revenge.

“Who’s the messiest?”

Hugh and you put Olivia’s head in the bowl. She was already expecting to be dunked anyways.

“I’m pretty sure she has a coffee pot under her bed. Stop trying to be Nancy Thompson, Liv.” Reese teased.

“Who got into trouble more growing up?”

You dunked Alex’s head, Hugh let you do the honor. You had lost count of how many times Alex’s principal called when Alex was in school. You never received any complaints about Reese, while with Olivia it was just a few.

“I’m pretty sure my teachers hated me.” Alex laughed, grabbing the napkin Hugh passed him to wipe his face off.

“Who asks for more money?”

Since both Alex and Reese had their own, that left Olivia to be the one that somewhat relied on you and Hugh financially. Hugh was the one that dunked Olivia in the water.

“Speaking of asking for money…” Olivia smiled.

“No, I’m not giving you money.” Hugh said.

“Fine, a birkin will do just fine.”

“Who is the most rebellious?”

Easy, none of the kids. (But if you were to ask that question a couple years ago, it would be Alex getting his head shoved into the water.)

“Who is the favorite child?”

For the last question, you and Hugh dunked all the kids’ heads in the water.

@kellyxo1

[lokischocolatefountain]

Sickness and Health

A married!Javi Drabble based on this request

Series Masterlist

Rating: All fluff except for a few inappropriate words

A/N: I had to use this gif because I couldn’t think of anything for sick Javi. Just imagine he’s wiping his snot instead of his sweat (you’re welcome for the new mental association I’ve created)🤪. I got this request a month ago and I’m writing it only now 🙈 Sorry anon requester, but I hope you see this and like it 💜

I’ll be fine, he said. It’s just allergies, he said. My god querida, stop mothering me, he said. Yet here he was, flopped on the sofa with a leg on the floor as he snored. The man never came home before her. There were times when he’d come home briefly in the morning to shower and put on a fresh set of clothes before bolting out the door with nothing to spare her other than a rushed kiss. And now here he was at 5 PM, sleeping.

She placed a hand on his forehead, wincing when she found him burning up. Not to say she told him so, but she told him so. But he would hear none of it. The man dropped her off at work with the promise that he’d take an Advil if he needed before driving away to the embassy. He probably forgot. Or his promise was made just to placate her, stop her from being the nagging wife.

She didn’t quite know how to do it, the wife thing. Was she supposed to force a pill down his throat? Would she be the annoying nagging wife men talked shit about to their friends if she did? Was she supposed to leave him be? Would she be a bad wife for neglecting him and letting him go to work ill?

Knowing the man, he probably didn’t have anything to eat. His only intake was whiskey and tobacco from all the smoking he did. Was she supposed to pack him lunch? Send food to the embassy? She didn’t know. He never asked for anything and was happy to eat what she gave him when he came home. She provided dinner, leaving it on the table and leaving a note on his bed reminding him to eat it. Sometimes she managed to force a glass of OJ into his hand in the morning. But that was all. Lunch was a big question mark. What he ate when in Medellin was a blind spot.

Retrieving some chicken, carrot, celery and broth from the refrigerator, she got to work. With some time, spices and low music playing on the radio, the soup was ready to be served.

She poured some into a bowl, placed it on the coffee table and hovered over him. Beads of sweat had collected on his forehead, either from the hot weather or his sickness. Messy black hair stuck to his forehead and she reached over and pushed it back.

“Javi…”

Nothing. She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook gently. “Javi?” He stayed still as a rock. Goddamn. The man usually woke up at the slightest noise. A bullet could leave a gun two miles away and he would hear it. It was rare that he slept at all, so when he did, she did everything in her power to keep his surroundings quiet.

“Mi amor…” she called, caressing his sweat soaked forehead. “Come on, get up. You need to eat something.”

He trembled under her touch and whined something incomprehensible. She tried again, called his name while giving gentle rubs to his shoulders. “…hurts.”

“I know, baby. I know,” she said, smiling at his half-awake form. He looked so sweet like this, so innocent and childlike. She wanted to pick him up like he was a puppy and give him a million kisses. He might be a big bad federal agent but sleeping on their couch like this, he was her little puppy.

“… ‘s the paperwork and…Wysession…la Quica…umm and yeah what do I think?” He mumbled, making her laugh. This fucker would not survive without his job. It took a few more tries and sweet words, some of which embarrassing enough that she’d never repeat to him if he were awake. His eyes opened a little, his mumbling about work dimmed down and he spoke her name.

“Yeah. It’s me. Get up. I made soup. You should have some, have a Tylenol and sleep on the bed. Okay?”

“What time is it?” He asked, sitting up suddenly.

“Six thirty three.” The man always wanted the exact time. No rounding up or down. It was unnerving.

He buried his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes with the flat of his palms. “Fuck. Got an early meeting at eight with Noonan. Gonna be late. She’ll kill me,” he said, getting up. He hunched over the couch, hand gripping on to the leather of the headrest for support as his other hand clutches his head.

“8 PM is not an early meeting. Unless you’re talking about a meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow? Wait, what’s the time?”

“Six thirty. In the evening. You have a bad fever and you were asleep on the couch when I got home at five.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yeah. Fuck. Now sit down and have some soup. You can’t have Tylenol on an empty stomach.”

“Actually, I can. The body absorbs it faster on an empty stomach.”

“Alright buddy, sit down and have the soup,” she said, coaxing him to sit next to her on the couch. He sat a bit too close to her, leaning on her shoulder and placing his weight on her.

“Feel like absolute shit,” he said, dipping the spoon into the bowl of hot soup. He blew on it once and then twice before drinking it. “So good.”

“Thank you, baby,” he said, pulling her to his side. She did not want to contract whatever he had and proximity would increase the chances of infection. But she didn’t have the heart to push him away. Even on a normal day, the man liked physical contact with her. It could be anything from a hand on her back when they were out in public to full on cuddling her in bed. He just showed his affection through touch. She didn’t want to deny him affection when he was so vulnerable and soft.

He drank it down quietly, wincing every now and then from his headache. He even surprised her by asking for a second helping and she gave it to him gladly, even topping his bowl up another time when he wasn’t looking.

“Now Tylenol.”

“Nooo,” he whined, flopping back on the backrest of the couch. “Hate pills.”

She laughed and popped a pill out of the foil wrapper before handing a glass of water to him. “Aww, is the big baby afraid of pills?”

“Not scared,” he pouted and folded his arms over his chest, looking like a petulant three year old. Good god. Was this really the man being paid by the US government to catch Escobar? Or was he the secret sweet cuddly twin to her grumpy sassy Javi?

“Right. Definitely not scared. Now have it.”

“I’ll be fine without it. Just need to sleep.”

“Sure, Dr. Peña. If you say so,” she teased. She was definitely noting down all the details of his behavior in her head to tease him with later. “Can you have the liquid Tylenol?” She asked, recalling seeing a bottle of it in their medicine cabinet.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” she said, getting up to go fetch the Tylenol for him. Before she could step away, his hand wrapped around her wrist. She looked back at him to find him staring at her with those big brown eyes, all wide and precious. He was still grumpy, but less intimidating and more adorable. “I need to take my hand with me, Agente…”

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t go. I miss you.”

“It’ll just be gone for a minute. I’ll get you your Tylenol and be right back.” Huffing, he finally let go of her hand. When she returned, he smiled up at her lazily before grabbing both her wrists.

“Javi…I can’t give you your medicine if you don’t let go of my hand.”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this too. There is no plan C, Javier. Pill or this,” she said, holding up the bottle of the liquid acetaminophen.

“That tastes like shit.”

“Yeah. You’ll survive.”

“I wooooon’t,” he whined, pulling her onto his lap. He may be very sick, but he was still strong and worse, unaware of how much force he exerted. She fell with her face forward, smushing into his chest. She made a low sound of satisfaction before wrapping his arms around her and settling his chin on her head.

“Bebito…”

“‘m not your bebito. I’m your husband.”

“Yeah yeah. Then stop acting like a bebito, bebito.”

“Don’t do this to me. That thing tastes vile. Tastes like shit. Like, like horse shit mixed in with rat poison.”

“God, you drama queen,” she teased, adjusting herself on his lap to sit up properly. “It’s just 20 ml. Have some of it, drink some water to wash the taste off and go to bed. God knows you need the rest.”

“Fine. On one condition.”

“Uh huh?”

“Bit of whiskey after the medicine.”

Absolutely not.

“Of course, baby. All the whiskey you want,” she lied through her sweet smile. She did not have the energy to argue with a gigantic baby she couldn’t yell at. She’d make him have the medicine first and figure out the rest when she had to.

At the mention of whiskey, he smiled wider than the day they got married and happily let go of her wrists. She hissed at the dull pain around them, flushing when she realized just how strong he was. Yet he never used such strength on her, handling her gentler than this even when she asked for rough treatment. She’d have to ask for more the next time… she looked away from him embarrassed. The man was sick and delirious, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t the most appropriate time to be horny.

“Tilt your head back,” she ordered and he followed immediately, exposing his neck to her. “Now open your mouth,” she said, bringing the little cup of the liquid to his lips. It went alright for the first second, but when it touched his tastebuds, he gagged and groaned.

“Uhh that was fucking disgusting!”

“That was just 10 ml. You need another 10 for the full dosage.”

“No, no, no. Please don’t do this,” he begged before sticking his tongue out as though casting out the organ for making him experience the medicine’s taste.

“Please, Javier… Just one more, okay?” She said, pouring him the other half of the dose. “Imagine you’re taking a tequila shot.”

“Then it should be on your bellybutton with salt on your tits and a lemon wedge between your lips.”

Horndog

“Suuure. You couldn’t tell it was evening and not morning just half an hour back but you think you can do a body shot, huh?”

“Absolutely can. You didn’t know me in college. Plus I’ll do anything to lick your tits,” he said, his eyes looking too adorable for the things he said. Shouldn’t he be too sick to be horny?

“Alright big guy, open up” she said, tipping his chin back and forcing the rest of his medicine down his throat. He groaned and whined once more and summoned a couple demons with the sounds he produced.

“Tequila?” He asked, pouting as he fixed his puppy dog eyes on her.

“Sure. Go sit on the bed and I’ll bring you the goods,” she said, helping him get off the couch.

“Perfect. You’re the best wife, you know that?”

“I’m your only wife. You don’t have much else to compare me to, do you?”

“Fine, I’ll get more wives. Test the hypo- hypo…tenuse?” He asked, squinting.

“Hypothesis.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said hypotenuse. That’s the longest side of a right angled triangle.”

“The fuck,” he said under his breath, allowing her to lead him to their bedroom. When she’d gotten him to lie down, he pulled her to himself and held her to his chest. She was yet to have dinner and there was a tv program she’d wanted to watch before bed. But with his arms around her and his lips mumbling in his sleep, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

It wasn’t often that she got to be wrapped up in his arms at this early hour. Why fight it when she could savor it.

[marvelslut16]

The Flu

Prompt number: 22 "Who takes care of you?"

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 2.8k+

Warnings: Age gap relationship. Dbf. Swearing. Boss and employee.

A/N: A few hours late for day 4, but I was a busy woman today. Aaron and Jack never go into the witness protection program, they catch Peter Lewis right away.

The job was just supposed to be temporary, one to help you get back on your feet after dropping out of school, and you got to help your long time infatuation Aaron Hotchner now that Jess was moving out of state. It was a win win in your eyes, and it got your dad off your back. But that was almost two years ago now, and there was no end in sight for your current arrangement as Jack’s live in nanny. 

The one flaw in your logic was how drop dead gorgeous your boss is. Not that that is new information, you’d been drooling over him since you were sixteen when you saw him shirtless at a backyard/pool party your dad threw. But now it’s so much worse, because he’s so sexy doing all of his mundane tasks. Making coffee at five in the morning with bedhead? Sexy. Making dinner in one of his tight white dress shirts when he gets home from a case early? Still sexy. Dressed down in casual clothes coaching Jack’s soccer team? The most sexy.

As you lament, yet again, to your best friend over text about how unfairly hot Aaron Hotchner is, the front door opens. As if he knew you were talking about him, he enters the house with a thud having dropped his go bag by the front door. He slowly makes his way to the kitchen, where you are, and when he does you finally notice how miserable he looks. His dark hair is slicked to his forehead, his face pale- except for his cheeks which are bright red, and his eyes are bloodshot.

“Oh my god, Aaron! Are you okay?” your voice raising an octave, you rush over to him and guide him to one of the barstools in front of his large island.  

“I’m fine, the team overreacted and sent me home,” he almost sounds convincing, until he finishes the sentence with a loud sneeze. 

“Awww,” you rub your hand up and down his back comfortingly. “Did Jackers give you the flu?”

“No,” he argues, and tries to quietly sniffle. 

“That’s it, straight to bed young man,” your hands resting on your hips as you tell him the same thing you told Jack a week ago when he came home from school with the flu. “While you take a nap I’ll make you some homemade chicken noodle soup.”

“It’s fine (Y/N), you don’t have to do that. I’m capable of making my own lunch,” he looks like a petulant child, his hands balled in fists also resting on his hips. 

“When was the last time you let someone take care of you Aaron?” you ask, becoming annoyed that he keeps fighting you. “Six months ago when you were in the hospital, that’s when. And then you still fought it tooth and nail. Who takes care of you?”

“I can take care of myself,” he starts coughing as a result of lowering his voice in order to use his boss voice. A voice he only ever uses on you when you try to care for him too.

“You want to go back to work again soon right?” he nods. “So just listen to me. Take some Tylenol and go lay down. Please let me make you some soup.”

He finally relents and heads upstairs to bed, but not before you get him a large glass of water. Thankfully you were planning on making chicken for dinner, so you already have some thawing. You waste no time and start cooking the chicken in one pot, then you chop the vegetables. After the chicken has been shredded and the soup is simmering, making the whole house smell delicious, you sneak upstairs to check on your patient.

You’re happy to see that he’s laying in the middle of his bed bundled up in his sheets with little snores escaping him.Despite him being sick, he still looks far more at peace and relaxed in this moment then he has since you met him back when he was still a prosecutor. After a few minutes of taking him in, you head back to the kitchen and toast and butter bread to go with his soup. The soup is done ten minutes later, and you ladle a nice heaping bowl for him. 

You trek back up the stairs, walk into Aaron’s room and stand beside his bed. You’ve woken him up a bunch of times when he falls asleep watching movies with you and Jack or when he falls asleep at the island going over paperwork for work, but this feels different. You’re in his bedroom, you’re boss’ bedroom. Overcoming your nerves you reach forward and gently shake his shoulder, he wakes with a start whipping his hand to grasp your wrist in a bruising grip. 

“Aaron,” you startle, he doesn’t register that you aren’t a threat in his half asleep stupor. “It’s me, it’s (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” he snaps out of it, face contorting into a frown when he sees his white knuckled grip around your wrist. “Shit! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” you smile lightly, rubbing your wrist when he finally lets go. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have woken you up like that.”

“It’s my fault,” he argues, sitting up and leaning against his mahogany headboard. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the case at work before I fell asleep, I must have dreamt about it.”

“It’s fine Aaron, I just wanted to let you know the soup is done, there’s a bowl cooling on the island for you,” you smile as you slowly back out of his room, suddenly feeling like you’re intruding. 

Aaron doesn’t say anything else, so you slip out of the room and head back to the kitchen to start cleaning up. Aaron joins you a few minutes later, wrapped tightly in his blue robe Jack picked out for him for Christmas last year. Aaron lets out an involuntary moan after taking a spoonful of soup, and you clench your thighs together at the delicious sound.

“This is the best chicken noodle soup I’ve ever had,” Aaron says once he’s scarfed down half of his bowl. 

“You hate chicken noodle soup,” you giggle, remembering the cute way his nose crinkled in disgust when that was the only soup at some fancy restaurant the team and their families went to last year. 

“Not this one!” he shovels in another spoonful. 

You give Aaron another helping of the soup, glad that he’s eating and hydrating himself, before putting the rest into a container and into the fridge. You have just enough time to wash the pot and counters before heading to pick Jack up from school.

“I’m gonna head out and get Jackers in a few minutes,” you tell Aaron as he starts sneezing again. “Once you finish that, go lay back down and drink lots of water.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” he murmurs thinking you won’t be able to hear him. But you do, and you glare at him for his childish antics. He finally relents, “okay.”

The drive to get Jack isn’t very long, but after the whole Peter Lewis fiasco, Aaron won’t let Jack walk home or ride the bus. And you don’t blame him. Your dad told you about Jack getting stalked during one of your weekly phone calls while you were away for school, you were rattled for the Hotchner’s. 

“(Y/N)!” Jack comes running at you when he sees you, you bend down and scoop him into your arms and carry him to the car. You’ll never get tired of how excited he gets to see you when you pick him up, it’s the same happy reaction every day. 

“How was school buddy? Get all the homework you missed last week when you were home sick?” you bombard him with questions as you unlock the car.

“It was great! We got to play soccer in gym today and I scored three times!” Jack wiggles in excitement before you set him back on the ground. 

“That's great buddy!” you smile at him as he slips into his seat. 

“Yes I got all of my make up work,” he pouts once you get into the driver's seat. “Lots of fractions, and you know how much I hate those.”

“I’ll tell ya what, you do one of your math worksheets and then we can make your dad a get well soon card,” over your time with the Hotchner’s you’ve learned that bargaining is how to incentivise the both of them. “He came home from work early with the flu.”

“Dad’s home?” Jack start’s to excitedly bounce in his seat, happy that he’ll get to spend more time with his favorite person.

“Yeah, but just remember that he’s not feeling his best so he won’t be able to do a lot,” a bittersweet smile crosses your face, it’s not fair that they don’t get to spend more time with one another. It’s not fair that Aaron has to sacrifice his personal life to make the world a better place for everyone else. 

When you walk in the door you're greeted with the sight of Aaron bundled up on the couch under three blankets, the news playing quietly on the TV. Jack gives his dad a big hug before scurrying off to the kitchen to grab a snack and start his homework. You walk up to the lump on the couch that was once Aaron and reach your forearm forward to feel his forehead, and sure enough he’s much warmer than he should be. 

“I don’t feel good,” Aaron whines, making the same pouty face Jack made all last week. “Everything aches.”

“I know sweetheart,” you let the term of endearment slip without thinking, too focused on trying to comfort Aaron. “You have a fever, you need to drink lots of water and get out from under those blankets.”

“No,” he huffs, clutching onto his blankets like he needs them to live. “I don’t have a fever, it’s just cold in here.”

“Aaron it's seventy two degrees in here, it’s not cold. You need to take the blankets off, it’ll only make it worse,” he shakes his head sinking further into the couch. “Fine, if I go grab the thermometer and it says you have a fever, I’m taking both of your blankets into the kitchen with me while I help Jack with his homework.”

You don’t give him time to respond before you head to the upstairs bathroom where you had checked Jack for a fever this morning before school. When you get back to him, Aaron has sunk further down into the couch and cocoon of blankets trying to hide from the thermometer in your hand. You eventually get it in his mouth and sure enough he has a one hundred one degree fever.

“Hand over those blankets,” you reach your hand out for them, and he reluctantly gives them to you. “Now drink some water and watch the news. And no more blankets!”

You help Jack with two math worksheets before he remembers your deal, and demands you make a card. He decorates the printer paper in every color marker and tops it off with those marker stamps you got him for his birthday. Jack even makes you sign your name on the card. 

“Is this for me?” Aaron coughs and sits up when Jack thrusts the card in his face. “Aww thanks buddy, I love it!” Jack sits on the couch with his dad for a few minutes, but after seeing the news is on he gets up and leaves. 

“You feeling up for dinner?” you ask Aaron, when Jack heads back to finish some more homework. “It’s too late for me to make something, is there any take out you want?”

“Happy Meal!” Jack yells from the kitchen

“You heard the little man, we’re having McDonalds tonight,” Aaron smiles at you as you grab your keys and call Jack to come ride with you.

The rest of the night is stress free, Jack actually listens to you when you tell him it’s time to shower and get ready for bed, all because his dad is sick and doesn’t want to make it worse. Well it’s stress free where Jack is concerned, you still have to deal with the full grown baby you call your boss. 

“Time for bed Aaron,” you tell him after you’ve dried Jack’s hair and read him to sleep. “I know you don’t want to but you need to get your rest.”

“I’m not tired,” he says, even though he grabs your hand when you hold it out to him, you pull him out of his chair and lead him up the stairs and to his room 

“Now take two more Tylenol and go to sleep,” he reluctantly takes the pills out of your hand and throws them back dry.

“There, are you happy?”

“I’m ecstatic,” you deadpan, moving to fluff his pillows for him.

“Thank you,” Aaron catches your gaze when he speaks, making sure to hold it.

“It's my job,” you dismiss his praise, not wanting to let yourself think about it too much and read too deep into it. 

“No it's not, you always go above and beyond for us, for me,” Aaron gently catches the wrist he squeezed earlier making a mental image of the faint bruise marring your skin, and vowing to never let the world hurt you. 

“Aaron,” your breath catches at the delicate ghosting of his fingertips on the inside of your wrist.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, leaning forward and now it’s his lips ghosting over your wrist. You swear your heart stops when he pushes down harder, leaving a trail of kisses around your wrist. 

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, the last thing you want is for him to stop, but you also need to make sure he’s in his right mind when doing this. 

“Kissing you,” the words fall out of his mouth effortlessly, like they’re said all of the time. His mouth travels up your arm and he’s kissing the sensitive crook of your elbow. 

Aaron pulls you down next to him in bed, quickly scooping you up and cradling you in his arms. You're at a loss for words, your dream is coming true. Aaron Hotchner actually wants you as much as you want him, and it isn’t a dream. When you’re lost in thought his lips descend on yours, and soon you get lost in him instead. There’s no rush to your kiss, just a slow languid strokes of his tongue twining with yours. It’s the perfect first kiss, there’s a heat to it, but no sense of urgency to get it over with. 

“(Y/N), you have my heart,” Aaron admits breathlessly, arms wrapping around you tighter. “I know it’s wrong for many reasons, but you made my heart beat again. You love Jack and you’re wonderful with him. He loves you. I love you. You take care of me even though you don’t have to, you are the most amazing person. You’re perfect for Jack and me.”

“You have my heart too, I love you too,” you grip his chin and pull him in for another kiss. “You and Jack are everything to me, I finally feel like I belong somewhere, here with the two of you. I never want to lose this, lose you.”

“You won’t,” he kisses you one more time before pulling away completely. “But you should probably go to your own room now, wouldn’t want you to get sick from sleeping with me tonight.”

“I was home with Jack all last week, I’m fine. Plus it’s probably better I stay in here and keep an eye on you,” he smirks, kissing you one last time before resting his head on your chest.  

The rest of the week is wonderful, Aaron still argues with you when you try to take care of him, but when Jack’s at school you two let the facade down. You cuddle with him and kiss him whenever you walk past him, making out on the couch like you’re two horny teenagers. Before you know it, it’s Sunday and Aaron is feeling better so he has to go into work in the morning. As the two of you say goodnight to Jack you start sneezing and the sniffling you’ve had all day rears its ugly head. 

“I told you not to sleep with me,” Aaron teases you after you close Jack's door, pulling you with him and back into his room.

“I’m fine,” your arguing falls short as you start sneezing again.

“I think the team can do without me for another case,” Aaron smiles as you slip into bed with him. “I need to be here to take care of you now.” Who would have thought the flu would be what finally got you two together?

[emma23]

Wrapped around you :

Joel miller x reader

If you want to support me, take a look here 💕

https://ko-fi.com/settings?tab=profile

The snow was falling gently outside, blanketing Jackson in soft white. The town was quiet, save for the faint crunch of boots against icy sidewalks and the occasional bark of a dog in the distance. Y/N sat by the dimly lit window of the diner, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. Her gaze was fixed on the street outside, watching as the early morning sunlight glinted off rooftops.

“Lost in thought again?” Maria’s voice cut through the silence, pulling Y/N from her daze.

Y/N blinked, offering a sheepish smile. “Guess so.”

Maria smirked, sitting across from her. “What’s got you so distracted? Or should I say, who?”

Y/N groaned. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

“I’m just saying.” Maria leaned forward, her tone teasing. “A little birdie told me Joel Miller’s been hanging around you a lot lately.”

Y/N scoffed, taking a sip of her coffee to hide the heat rising to her cheeks. “Joel’s… Joel. He’s just helping me with some repairs at the house. Nothing more.”

Maria’s grin widened. “Sure. And I’m the Queen of Jackson.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her mind betrayed her, wandering back to the way Joel had looked the night before. His broad shoulders framed by the dim light in her living room, the way his hands, calloused but gentle, had guided hers when showing her how to fix that damn cabinet. She’d been too distracted to notice the way he’d lingered, his gaze softening when she laughed at her own clumsiness.

By the time Y/N got back to her house that evening, the sky was a deep indigo, stars scattered across the horizon. Joel had left a few hours earlier, mumbling something about “letting you have some peace.” She’d tried to brush off the odd flutter in her chest, chalking it up to exhaustion.

But then, as the night dragged on, the loneliness crept in. The bed felt too cold, too empty. Maybe that’s why she’d called him.

And maybe that’s why he’d shown up.

The morning sunlight spilled through the curtains, warming the room in a soft golden hue. Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open to the sound of a soft snore. For a moment, she froze, the weight of an arm draped over her stomach anchoring her in place.

Her heart raced as she registered the steady rise and fall of Joel’s chest pressed against her back, his arm heavy and possessive, his legs tangled with hers.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She’d invited him over because she thought he’d leave right after. Joel Miller didn’t cuddle. Everyone in Jackson knew that. He was rough, gruff, and kept people at arm’s length.

But now?

Y/N glanced down at his hand, which spanned from her ribs to her hip, his fingers splayed as if to hold her in place. She bit her lip, torn between staying in this cocoon of warmth and sneaking out before he woke up.

Just as she tried to shift, Joel grunted softly, pulling her closer.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” he mumbled, his voice a deep, raspy drawl that sent a shiver down her spine.

“I… I have work,” she whispered, cursing the way her voice trembled.

He nuzzled into her neck, his breath warm against her skin. “Not an excuse.”

Her resolve crumbled as his hold tightened, the weight of his leg thrown over hers trapping her completely. She felt his heartbeat against her back, steady and grounding.

“Joel,” she murmured, trying again. “I really need to—”

“Stay.”

The simplicity of the word, paired with the quiet vulnerability in his tone, made her pause.

“You’re clingy,” she teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

Joel chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated against her. “You don’t know half of it, darlin’.”

Heat crept up her neck, and she bit back a smile. “This doesn’t mean anything,” she blurted, more to herself than to him.

“Sure it doesn’t,” he replied, his voice laced with amusement.

When he finally pulled back, Y/N turned, catching a glimpse of his tousled hair and the sleepy curve of his lips. He caught her staring, a slow smirk spreading across his face.

“Enjoyin’ the view?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, throwing a pillow at him. “Get out.”

Joel caught the pillow effortlessly, his smirk widening. “You’re the one who called me, sweetheart.”

“And clearly, I’ve made a mistake.”

He leaned in close, his amber eyes locking onto hers. “If this is what mistakes feel like, I think I’ll make a habit of ‘em.”

Her breath hitched, but before she could respond, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and sauntered out of the room, leaving her flustered and grinning like an idiot.

Later that day, Maria cornered her in the diner again.

“So, how’s Joel?”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I hate you.”

Maria smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Maria’s voice followed her as Y/N groaned, thinking, “Great. Now everyone’s going to know Joel Miller cuddles.”

[vampire-bite]

In an incredible turn of events, I have finally finished part two of this fic. Its been so long i lost the little "completed" stamp i used last time, but this is for "get it over with" from bad things happen bingo.

Dear God I Hope This Is Decent. If you prefer reading on AO3, its over here.

Sam was beginning to feel a bit like he was the parent of two particularly unruly children—unruly, hurting children, that he was consistently failing to help.

Mercifully, both newborns slept through most of the day. He supposed they were probably exhausted—with a helpful dose of daze from their body trying to heal, in Bright’s case—from the emotions of the day. But even with the free time he had due to their exhaustion, he couldn’t bring himself to do much. 

It hadn't seemed like much of a break from their usual routine. At first, at least. Bright got themselves into trouble. Frederick cared about them beyond reason. And Sam was left cleaning up their mess. But now, even thinking of it like that made guilt settle in his stomach. Any attempt to brush it off as just troublemaking just brought back the images of them covered in blood, crying. 

“Why don’t you just kill me already, since that’s clearly what you want?”

They flinched when he reached for them.

He couldn’t stop himself from picturing a version of himself, now long gone, who would've reacted the same way. Then, similarly, from imagining himself newly turned. Angry at the world that had taken his humanity from him. 

The bitter, almost cruel part of him that reared its ugly head so often when it came to them had finally fallen silent. All he had now was the other half, the one that still hurt. That yearned to be himself again.

It felt like a mirror being held up, leaving him face to face with his own reflection, and he wasn’t sure he liked what he saw.

He needed a drink. One that would actually work. The hangover would be nothing compared to how sick he felt right now. 

In the end, that was what brought him to the chair across from the couch Bright was still asleep on. If he didn't have something to focus on, he was certain he'd do something he'd regret. Concern—unusually, for them, rather than just about—was, shockingly, easier.

They looked so young now. Buried in his jacket and a few blankets he’d thrown over them when he noticed them shivering, a trail of drool running down their chin as small snores left them. A scar on their eyebrow—no doubt from their youthful recklessness. A problem child. But still a child, and one he was starting to realize he’d mistreated. 

He reached for their cheek to wipe dried blood off of a cut, an unfamiliar gentleness in his touch, and their eyes opened just slightly. There was a brief moment of drowsy confusion before he could practically see their walls go back up.

“....Hi,”  They said, their voice slow, tone questioning as they eyed him with something like suspicion, and never one to mince their words, they were as blunt as always, “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” He rolled his eyes, but fought back a remark about how they didn’t look much better. It seemed insensitive, given everything that had happened. Like salt in their wounds, which despite his best efforts were still numerous.

They were still regarding him with suspicion—almost aggression—that they didn’t even bother to hide, but he found that it was oddly comforting, that there was something normal about all of this. That, and the look on their face left him unable to fight his mind away from how similar they seemed to the reckless wolf that had captured his attention.

Blankets fell to the ground as they sat up, retreating and curling up into themselves against the opposite side of the couch, like they were trying to get as far from him as possible, “You don’t need to watch me sleep. Creep.” Despite the harsh words, their voice wasn’t angry, just resigned. 

“There’s clean clothes on the table,” He nodded his head towards the coffee table, but they didn’t say anything. Their eyes just barely flickered down, but though they looked surprised by the gesture, they didn’t move to go change.

He wanted to leave them alone, leave the discomfort the conversation would bring for another day and run from his troubles. But he knew that if he didn’t say things now, he’d talk himself out of it before he could.

“We need to talk,” He said. Their body tensed and they moved to get off the couch, but he moved closer, reaching out to put a hand on their shoulder and hold them still. 

They recoiled slightly, but didn't push him away. “Can you just get it over with?” They asked, the hostility in their voice not quite managing to mask the soft pain beneath it, “So I can get out of here before the sun comes back up?”

The words made him stop. He thought over them for a moment, brows furrowing, and though he opened his mouth to respond no words came out. Nothing that he could say would explain the depth of his confusion, so he ended up just staring at them in bewilderment. They sighed. Heavy, angry, and melting into a few grumbled words.

“I know you’ve wanted me gone this whole time. Just get it over with. Like a bandaid.” Resigned, they stared down at their lap, seeming to almost shrink in on themselves as they spoke.

Really, he wasn't sure what he'd expected. Their statement took him aback, but he figured that it probably shouldn’t have. If anything had become clear due to their earlier breakdown, it was that they thought very little of him. But he couldn't say it was surprising, or that he blamed them. 

Maybe the worst part of that realization was he couldn't remember the last time he hadn't blamed them for something. 

It was obvious that they thought he was going to kick them out, and he could barely hold back a laugh at the thought. Admittedly, the idea that he didn’t want to be responsible for them had briefly crossed his mind a few times, though the memory now made him feel guilty.

Even still, he’d never seriously considered it. Besides the fact of how many people it would put at risk, besides the fact that Frederick would hate him, no matter how severely the two were at odds…. Even with his mind clouded with disdain, he couldn’t justify that to himself. They were just a kid. Sometimes he’d thought they were more trouble than they were worth, but that didn’t change the fact of it. 

He wondered how he’d missed it. Wondered how, with all that pain he’d felt through his bond with Frederick, it never crossed his mind that some of it was from them as well. They were the same, freshly turned, young newborns, who’s hunger for normalcy and comfort rivaled their thirst for blood.

They were just a kid. 

“I helped look for you while Frederick was driving himself insane with worry. Why in hell would I do all that just to send you away?” He blurted out the words before he could stop himself, but he knew immediately it had been the wrong thing to say.

Bright stiffened immediately, shoving his hand off of their shoulder, eyes lighting up in a glare as they got to their feet. “I don’t believe you,” They said, voice defiant, gaze angry, “He doesn’t care about me anymore. And you never did.”

The idea of Frederick not caring about them managed to get a laugh out of him. His concern was red hot and burning just like Sam’s own anger, the two too tied together to differentiate sometimes. It contrasted with the damp, subdued pain of both of their sadness, so they were easier to pick out. Easier to focus on. They scowled when he laughed, their fists tightly gripping the sides of his jacket, pulling it around themselves. 

“Don’t do that,” They forced out through grit teeth, making his laughter die instantly,  “Don’t mock me.”

“Do you have to assume the absolute worst of me?”

 Long, cutting silence followed his words. Maybe it wasn’t fair. Maybe he hadn’t given them a good reason to assume anything else, after all, he had a tendency to do the exact same thing to them. Still, a heavy sigh left him as he watched them roll their eyes.  

They were tense, but they didn't seem to be in pain. It was a small mercy, he supposed. At the very least, their usual scowl had returned. He didn't think he'd ever miss it, but he found it was much better than their tears.

“I was laughing because he cares about you more than he cares about himself most of the time,” He responded, the words coming out with a tinge of bitterness that he'd tried to keep out of them. Bitterness for the self destruction he’d witnessed from both of them. Bitterness for his own inability to help.

Bright's face fell for a moment, their composed anger cracking just slightly, but they were quick to put their mask back up.

“He has a hell of a way of showing it,” They grumbled, playing at uncaring but falling short, a sharp edge to their voice. Tension was thick in the air around them.

His gaze followed them as they paced around the living room, trying to force himself to care less than he did about how they saw Frederick. Protective instinct had flared inside of him and he was helpless to resist following it. “He cares about you beyond any goddamn reason, no matter how much I've told him he shouldn't!” 

Their face dropped and he winced as he realized what he'd said. 

He took his eyes off of them for only a moment, putting his face in his hands and groaning as he tried to think of a way to backtrack.

That was all it took. The moment his eyes were off of them, they bolted, making a run for the front door. “Bright!” He shouted after them, but they didn’t even spare a glance back in his direction. He cursed under his breath, chasing after them.. It was easy enough to catch up to them, the way they had to fumble with the locked door bought enough time that he was right behind them by the time they got outside. 

He wrapped his arms around their waist as they stepped off the porch, and they screamed, thrashing in his hold in an attempt to get free.  They fought against him and twisted in his arms, but he held on tight so they couldn’t run. He wasn’t convinced he’d ever see them again if they managed to take off.

“Let go of me!” They shrieked, hitting his chest with every ounce of strength they could manage. It only succeeded in making him wince, not loosen his grip.

All he could do was hold on stubbornly tight as their fist pounded back against his chest.

“I hate you!” They screamed and continued to hit at his chest, tears streaming down their face while they tried to shove him away even as he held them firmly, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” He was sure they did. He couldn’t blame them.

“I know,” He tried to soothe them—tried to soothe his own guilt and the sinking feeling that he could never make things right. Of course, he knew that it went much deeper than just a feeling, “I know, I'm sorry.”

He felt the fight leave their body. It was a slow process. 

First, the screaming quieted down, being replaced with small, gasping sobs, verging on hyperventilation. Then their entire form shook violently as the hits to his chest slowed and then gradually stopped. Finally, they went limp. The only movement remaining was them trembling in his arms.

Their hands were still against his chest, now gripping his shirt rather than hitting him. The cries that were still leaving them drowned out their words as they gasped, desperately trying to get words out.

“You're both the same…” They choked out finally, “Neither of you will just let me go.”

 They didn't need to spell it out for him to know what they were talking about. He remembered the desperation in Frederick’s eyes when he'd turned them. 

It was easy to get caught up with his own progeny and forget that they didn’t have a maker who could help them. For all their anger, they were just a kid. A scared, lost child who he’d never bothered to treat as such.

“I hate you…” They sobbed, each repetition sounding closer and closer to breaking completely as they got weaker. His arms were still around their waist, their feet off the ground though he’d moved back so that they weren’t hanging off the side of the porch.

Once they fell completely silent, they more resembled a puppet with its strings cut than a person. They collapsed against him finally, head falling back onto his shoulder. “If I put you down, are you gonna try to run again?” He muttered, turning to go back inside. All they did was stiffly shake their head, not bothering to try and pull away on their own.

They stayed limp in his arms as he carried them back inside which made it easy to set them back down on the couch. Luckily, they didn’t let themselves fall over, sitting up and returning to the corner of the couch they’d been in after waking up. Both of them just stared at each other for a long moment.

Consciously making an effort to go slow so he didn't startle them, he sat beside them on the couch. He took their hands into his, gently squeezing them, and their gaze lifted just slightly so they could meet his eyes.

“Listen to me,” He said, his tone softening to the point it was unfamiliar to his own ears, “I know that I ain’t….. Good at all of this,” They snorted as they laughed, shaking their head and muttering something that seemed to be calling his words an understatement, “But… I wanna help and try to be better. I ain’t gonna promise I’ll be perfect at it, but if someone, or something, is bothering you…”

He trailed off, but it seemed to be enough. They closed their eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Okay,” Their voice was quiet, weak, “Okay. What do you want to know?”

About a thousand questions flashed in his mind, but he decided he’d been forceful enough, so he just shook his head. “Anything. What do you want to talk about?” They opened their mouth to speak but hesitated. Their head fell back against the back of the couch so they were staring up at the ceiling for a moment before squeezing their eyes shut. He wasn’t sure if he was making it up, but he could’ve sworn tears began to gather in them.

“I died too, you know?” They said finally, their voice cracking halfway through. Pain had fully overtaken the aggression they wore like armor.  

He swallowed down guilt and it burnt in his throat. “I get it.” 

“No,” The response came almost immediately, following a laugh lacking in humor, “You don't. I hear how—how people talk about you and Fred. And I-I hear how they talk about me, too. People think you're so…. So talented. So admirable and you're mysterious but not like you're suspicious. Like you're an isolated artist. And they feel bad for you for having to deal with me. Like you're a saint for letting me stick around.”

He wanted to tell them that wasn’t true, but he couldn’t.

“And I keep hearing how bad everyone feels for him,” Their voice raised in volume, and he could practically feel their anger like it was his own, “How tragic it is, what happened to him. Like—like it didn't happen to both of us. And if you're both so great, and you both hate me…. What does that make me?” 

Their face crumpled and then they were crying again. He gently squeezed their hand, but they pulled him closer, hugging him tightly and burying his face into his neck.

Wrapping his arms around them still felt wrong in a way, but it came more naturally than it had that morning. Whereas the first time had been desperation, barely thought through, this was far more intentional. It took him a few moments before he reacted, but when he finally held them, the twisted, ugly feeling in his stomach began to subside.

 “Kid…” He managed to get out, but one of Bright’s hands came around to clamp over his mouth to stop him from talking. They kept their face buried into the crook of his neck, and he decided that it was obvious they just needed to be held in that moment, so he stayed quiet.

He wasn’t sure exactly how long they stayed like that, but he found he didn’t care too much. They didn’t seem angry anymore, just hurt. Fingers curled around the back of his shirt, gripping it like they just needed something to hold onto. Shaking, uneasy breaths hit his skin.

Even once their tears had dried up, they stayed attached to him, though they moved their hand off of his face, so he took the chance to speak. “If anyone bothers you again,” He muttered, resting his head on top of theirs, “Tell me. I won’t let them hurt you.” 

It was exactly reassuring them that he didn’t hate them, like he had before, but he felt like it meant more.

 “I’m sorry,” They whispered against his neck, their body trembling against his.

“No,” He shook his head, pulling away to look them in the eyes, “I’m sorry.”

They just nodded, managing a small smile. He realized he wasn’t sure when the last time he’d seen them smile genuinely was. 

Before either of them could say anything, there was the sound of a door opening down the hall and Bright’s head snapped up. He barely had enough time to react when they took off down the hall—thankfully, away from the door rather than towards it.

He heard Frederick gasp and call out Bright’s name, followed by a thud and a small yelp and then laughter. He couldn’t fight away a smile.

Even as he rounded the corner to find the two teenagers locked together in a hug, he knew that there would be more for all three of them to figure out with each other. The strain of Bright and Frederick’s relationship wouldn’t be so easily undone. It wasn’t perfect. But in that moment, it was enough.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Sticky Situation- Part 7

Part 6

Hero came to just as Scientist dispensed the expanding foam into their pod. Hero let out a muffled groan, not all the way lucid. Expanding sealant had been stuffed in their mouth, which had then been sealed shut with adhesive and thermal tape. Scientist stood in front of them, their arms folded across their chest.

"Hopefully you learn your lesson," Scientist said, tapping the glass, "your entire body has been wrapped in thermal tape for good measure."

Hero wasn't alert enough to care. Along with expanding foam, mild sleeping gas was being pumped into their pod at regular intervals.

Hero stayed that way for days, only being let out of the pod for bathroom breaks and intravenous meals. They were always too drowsy to make any escape attempts.

-------

Hero dozed in their pod, drifting in and out of sleep. They heard someone tapping on the glass. Hero forced their heavy eyes to open. Assistant stared back at them. They pressed a button on the side of the pod, and the sleeping gas dissipated.

"Hm?"

"Shh," Assistant shushed.

Hero closed their eyes, asleep once more. Assistant dispensed solvent into the pod, and the foam melted away. Hero collapsed against the glass, their soft snores muffled by the gag. Assistant opened the pod door and caught Hero as they tumbled out. They lowered them down to the floor.

"Wake up," Assistant said, slapping them.

"Mm!"

Hero looked up at Assistant, who was working on freeing them from their tape restraints.

"I'm gonna take the gag off," Assistant whispered, "but you have to stay quiet, okay?"

Hero nodded, not entirely sure what was going on.

Assistant tore the tape off of Hero's mouth, then removed the adhesive and the sealant. Hero flexed their jaw subconsciously.

"We have to go, come on," Assistant said, hoisting them up.

Hero leaned on Assistant, still quite drowsy.

"Hero, we don't have time for this," Assistant groaned quietly, "ugh, I guess it's my own fault... whatever, here."

Assistant dragged Hero over to the padded table. They laid Hero down on it and draped a sheet over them.

"Okay, uh, don't move or make any noise," Assistant said, "let's hope this works..."

Assistant began to wheel Hero out of their room. Hero drifted back off without a clue as to what was happening.

------

When Hero awoke next, they were lying on a couch in a small living room. They sat up, confused as to how they got here. They turned when they heard footsteps behind them.

"Oh," Assistant said, "you're awake."

Assistant carried a tray in their hands. Hero eyed Assistant suspiciously.

"Is this some old psychology trick that I'm supposed to fall for?" Hero asked.

"No!" Assistant said quickly, "no tricks, I swear! You're uh, you're at my apartment."

"...Why?" Hero asked, raising an eyebrow.

Assistant didn't answer. They crossed the room until they were in front of Hero. They awkwardly set the tray in their lap. There was a bowl of soup and a few bread rolls, along with a cup of water.

"Uh... you haven't actually eaten anything in days..." Assistant said, "I thought you might want real food."

Hero stared down at the tray. The food looked good... too good. Almost like it would be laced with something bad.

"I don't know how gullible you think I am, but I'm not about to let you drug me... again."

Assistant winced at Hero's words. Hero felt a little bad, but not enough to take it back.

"I'm sorry for what happened in Supervillain's office," Assistant said, "I... I shouldn't have drugged you. I was scared, I didn't want to get in trouble. Supervillain's given me everything-"

"Yeah, including a frozen lab rat to play with," Hero said coldly.

Assistant withdrew into themselves.

"I promise this isn't a trick, I got you out of Organization's facility, and you're in my apartment now."

Hero scanned the room. It certainly looked like an apartment. But it could easily be a facade. Hero carefully set the tray on a coffee table and stood up. They were just about to make a run for it when they heard a knock on the door. Assistant's face went pale.

"Hide, quick!" Assistant whispered.

Assistant grabbed Hero by the arm and dragged them into a bedroom, shoving them in a closet.

"Don't move, and stay quiet," Assistant said, quickly shutting the closet door.

The knocking continued, and Hero could hear Assistant rushing to the front door.

"Coming, coming!" they called.

Hero strained to listen. They heard the door open.

"Assistant," Supervillain said, "I was so worried about you. I looked all over the facility for you."

"Supervillain," Assistant replied, surprise in their tone, "I-I'm sorry. I wasn't feeling well, so I came home early. What's wrong?"

"Hero has escaped."

Hero blinked. So... this really was Assistant's apartment then?

"Oh gosh," Assistant said, "when? How?"

"The security systems were disabled," Supervillain explained, "and the CCTV wiped. We have no idea how they managed it."

"I'm sorry, Supervillain, I know you really needed them..."

Assistant is good, Hero thought, they should've went to acting school.

"Not to worry, dear cousin, I have all the information I need for Organization to begin developing a cryo-serum."

"Really? That's, uh, that's great!"

"Yes. Soon I'll have everything I need to be successful."

Hero heard the front door open.

"I hope you feel better soon," Supervillain said, "I'll see you at work."

With that, the door closed. Within minutes, Assistant had ran back to the closet and opened the door for Hero.

"You need to get out of the city," Assistant said, dragging Hero out, "come eat your food and I'll get set up travel arrangements."

"Assistant-"

"I can give you my bus pass, you can't go back to your place, we've got it bugged-"

"Assistant-"

"Of course, we may have no choice if we wanna get your passport, how do you feel about Siberia?"

"Assistant!"

"What?" Assistant asked.

Hero sat down on the couch and grabbed the tray of food.

"Let me eat, we need a plan if we're gonna stop Supervillain."

"Stop Supervillain?" Assistant paused, "yeah that sleeping gas must still be in your system, no one can stop my cousin."

Hero dipped a bread roll into their soup. They took a bite and almost cried. It was absolutely delicious, and the best part- it wasn't coming from a needle!

"We're gonna have to try," Hero said, "I can't let Supervillain replicate my powers."

------

Supervillain returned to their office. They had given Hero and Assistant the bait, now it was just a matter of waiting for them to bite.

Part 8

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[alloftheimaginesblog]

the lost letter {i.j}

plot: Indy left for a mission a few weeks ago and as you're tidying your shared apartment, you find a letter from him.

character; indiana jones x plus sized female reader

Part of my Plus Size History Professor x Indiana Jones series and part of my Plus Size Reader x Character series!

It's tucked away, forgotten about in a pile of books and coursework that Indy had been marking before setting off on his new adventure. Coffee spilled over it and abandoned half way through probably due to him spilling coffee over it. You'd only found it through cleaning his desk, clearing and organising his work for him so that when he comes home, it's neat and tidy for him.

You'd been cleaning to try and distract yourself from missing him. It was hard when Indy was away working overseas because not only did you miss him, you worried constantly because you had no way of knowing if he was okay or not. The stories he'd tell you when he came home, scraped and bandaged up, sounded horrific and it sounded as though he came close to dying a lot more than you cared to think about.

People use work to distract them from missing someone but how could you be distracted when your history students asked you about him all the time?

Professor, where's Doctor Jones?

Hey, Professor, where's your boyfriend? He off adventuring again?

Doctor Jones isn't in so I'm wondering if I could get your thoughts on my essay that I'm writing for his class? You know him best so I figure that you're the next best thing.

Yeah, it wasn't easy when you worked and lived with your boyfriend. You just hoped that he'd be okay, that he'd come home. He was due back in two weeks. Sometimes he'd manage to call if things were going to take longer, sometimes he'd show up a week earlier than planned; there was no strict pattern that his adventures followed and that was something you hated about his adventures. You just wished for some sign that he was okay.

And then you happened across the letter.

You would've just tidied it away had it not been for the scrawl of your name at the top of the page.

Dearest (y/n),

You're sleeping as I write this. I didn't want to wake you but I couldn't sleep - preparing for Kenya - so I thought I'd write this for you. I don't know if I'll even show you this so there might be no point of me writing this but who knows?

I know that you're worried. I know that you hide a lot of those worries from me, you don't want me to feel guilty about leaving you, but I think I'd actually prefer if you spoke to me about them more. Maybe I could help put some of those worries to rest, maybe I'd be able to help settle the war that you fight in your head. I suppose I'd like to better help you but I'll be honest, I don't know where to start which is why I'm writing this. Maybe the mad ramblings of a College Professor will soothe all of the worries you have.

Can I just say that you look adorable when you sleep? I just walked in to get my glasses and you're curled up, snoring and drooling onto my pillow. Beautiful.

You mean everything to me. You are worth so much more than you think you are and I just adore every single part of you. I love who you are; I love you compassion for others, I love how much you care not only for your loved ones but for your students, your friends, strangers. There are so many good things about you, (y/n), please take the time to realise these. You are capable of so much and I am so proud of you for all that you've accomplished with your career, it's an honour and a joy to watch you thrive. I love your confidence, the way you aren't afraid to be yourself, the way you just shine in everything you wear and do; you are incredible.

Whilst I'm away, please try not to worry too much. I know that you will but please try to remember that I'll be okay. Before I met you, I was reckless and stupid, to be honest. I looked death in the face more times than I care to admit to you and I laughed. I had nothing to lose. Now, I have everything to lose; my job, my reputation, my career but most importantly you. I promise you that I won't do anything stupid or reckless and I won't actively seek out trouble though it always seems to find me. I promise that I will try my hardest to stay safe. It should be a relatively easy job but you know how these things go.

I can't guarantee my safety and I can't promise that I'll come home in one piece but I can promise that I will do anything to get back home to you, that I'll do everything in my power to return home to you. I give you my word. I love you, (y/n), and -

He had written something else but the coffee spillage smeared them and you couldn't make it out clearly but you'd read enough now. Your eyes were teary but not from sadness; it was from sheer happiness. Indy hadn't told you about this letter and you would've probably never had found it had you not been tidying but my god, you were so happy to have found it. The relief you felt from this letter was immense. He couldn't promise that he'd return safely but you had his word and right now, right now that was enough.

Over the course of the night, you read the letter, examining every line and dot trying to soak it into your brain and etch it into your memory. It brought such a comfort to you, seeing his handwriting, seeing his heart (and coffee) poured onto the paper for you to see... You wished that Indy would return home to you now but for now, this lost letter was enough to get you through the next two weeks.

[find-roronoa-zoro]

Roronoa Zoro X CisFem Reader

23

You stayed awake for quite some time while your boyfriend's soft snores filled the room. He'd fallen asleep rather quickly while still clinging to you. Which was totally fine, you found it rather endearing that even after such an intimate act he felt the need to stay so close to you. It had you almost wondering if he'd ever done this before, a notion you quickly dismissed recalling his skill level.

There was no way this guy was a virgin.

You ran your fingers gently through his soft hair smiling unapologetically as he shifted and stirred at your touch. How was this tiger allowed to be so cute?

Then it hit you, such an overwhelming wave of guilt. Here you were enjoying a moment of bliss when your father just died and your brothers are all distressed. What kind of selfish monster are you?

"Go to sleep." Zoro murmured pulling you close.

"I didn't mean to wake you." you snuggled into him.

"What are you stressing over?" he nuzzeled against your temple.

"Nothing."

It was quiet for a few short moments, you assumed he had drifted back off to sleep until his lips gently pressed against your forehead.

"It's ok to be happy." he rose above you to look you in the eye.

You glanced away, "How do you always know what to say?"

The greenette lowered himself to rest his cheek against your bare chest and shrugged, "I know you feel guilty for things you shouldn't."

You only hummed.

It was true. You often made yourself feel terrible for things you had no control over.

Running fingers through his hair once more you sighed, "I'm very happy, thank you Tiger."

"And thank you," he yawned, "now...sleep."

_________________

It had been a few weeks since your father's passing. Things were beginning to feel more normal or as normal as they could you supposed.

You sat at the island in the kitchen with a cup of freshly brewed coffee while your oldest brother shuffled around in the fridge.

"Why are you up so early?" the brunette asked through a massive yawn.

"I was going to follow Marco to work today. It's been a while since I've been to the home office."

"I'm sure they'll be excited to see you." Thatch stood closing the door with his arms full of food, "Breakfast? Everyone seems to be getting their appetites back."

"Sounds good." you hummed sipping from your mug.

Thatch grinned at you before turning to unload the breakfast ingredients onto the counter.

"Morning, yoi." your blond brother entered with a yawn as his hand slipped up his shirt to lazily scratch his stomach.

"Yo." you muttered.

"What're you doing up?"

"Question of the morning." Thatch chuckled from the stove.

"I want to go to the office with you today." you watched him yawn again and take a seat across from you.

"Izo will be excited to see you, yoi."

"I'm excited to see Izo." you affirmed with a soft smile.

"So no boyfriend today?" Marco asked.

"He closed the bar last night so I stayed home." you traced the brim of your coffee cup thinking about the cute text exchange you'd had with Zoro before falling asleep.

"Valentine's day is soon, any big plans?" Thatch asked wiggling his brows.

"Not that I know of, but you guys know I'm not fussy. It doesn't really matter."

"She's got it bad, yoi." the blond teased.

"Seriously," Thatch confirmed, "you sure were fussy with Shanks."

You blushed remembering your late teens and early twenties when all you knew of romance was TV shows and magazines. The way you acted back then was a bit embarrassing, though Shanks never once complained.

"I was young and dumb what can I say?" You chuckled.

"Speaking of young and dumb, Ace-"

Before Thatch could finish his sentence your phone began to vibrate across the counter startling all three of you. Your brows pinched together in confusion at the name that flashed across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Is everything alright, F/N-ya?" Law's voice was incredibly smooth even first thing in the morning.

"Uh - yeah... I think so?" you answered still confused.

"I was just surprised to see Ace-ya here without the family."

"W-what?! Wait - where is Ace?" you stood.

Your brothers froze.

"You didn't know?" Law questioned softly rounding a corner into an empty room, "He's being admitted to the hospital. You should get down here."

"What happened? Why is he there? Is he ok?" your frantic tone had the boys flinching.

"If you don't already know, I'm unfortunately not allowed to say, though I don't know much." Law sighed pinching the bridge of his nose, "Just get down here quickly. And be careful."

"We're on our way, thanks."

You hung up and typed a quick text to your boyfriend while divulging what little information you had to your older brothers.

"You guys go. I'll get the boys." Thatch had already turned off the stove and was headed for the stairs to get Sabo and Luffy.

Not bothering to change from your pajamas you and Marco threw on your jackets and made your way out to the hospital.

When you arrived you were directed to the surgical floor where they were prepping your freckled baby for emergency surgery. Not having any information was eating you alive, even when you checked in, they wouldn't say what happened or why he was having surgery. It felt like you were choking on your heart.

Marco kept freakishly calm and quiet. He honestly didn't know what to say or do. He was terrified at the thought of losing your brother. Not knowing basic information allowed you both to jump to the worst conclusions.

As you stepped off the elevator you caught sight of Benn slouching out of his coat in the waiting area, having apparently just arrived himself. You had a terrible feeling. Bypassing the waiting room you checked in at the nurses station, where you were immediately handed paperwork and lead to a room where Ace was.

Law greeted you in the doorway to prepare you for what you were about to see.

"He's taken quite the beating. They had to work on getting him stable before we could get him ready for surgery, which I've nominated myself for." his steel orbs were locked on yours, "We'll be taking Ace-ya in for a craniotomy; it's a standard procedure to relieve pressure on the brain."

"On the brain?" you squeaked.

"You've done this before, right?" Marco asked.

Law nodded, "Plenty of times. All successful. There are risks that we will cover. I can't sugar coat this for you. But I can assure you that his stats are good and I will do my best."

"Do you know what happened?" you almost didn't want to know the answer.

"Apparently there was a fight and things got out of hand. His head was slammed into the ground a few times, which caused swelling. This procedure will help with that and then we can access if there will be any permanent damage."

You would never in all your life be prepared to see what you did when you entered that hospital room. The man in that bed was damn near unrecognizable. Both eyes swollen shut, busted lips and cheeks and nearly his entire precious face was bruised.

A rage you had never experienced bloomed in your chest as your eyes filled with tears. You knew exactly what happened. You knew why Benn was there.

Somehow you made it through the paperwork and presurgery orientation.

"I love you Freckles." you murmured kissing your brother's temple before they pushed his bed out of the room.

"He'll be ok, yoi." Marco muttered rubbing your back and gently pushing you toward the waiting room.

The moment you saw Benn you felt that anger begin to heat your body again.

"What the fuck happened?! Why didn't you call me immediately?!" you shoved him back as he stood.

"It was complicated," his large hands wrapped around your wrists, "the police had to get involved. I was going to call you when I was able to get here but then I saw you and assumed Shanks called first."

"Oh you're all here." your ex's care free voice chimmed as you ripped yourself away from Benn, "How is he?"

You were close enough to the doorway; once freeing yourself you spun on your heel and socked the redhead right in the face.

"F/N!" your brother and friend called as Shanks dropped to the floor.

[arianatheangel-girl]

Agent Elvis Bloopers, Part 2

Author’s note: So...I couldn’t resist making another one lol! I think maybe I could turn this into a series or something lol.

Ep. 1 (Part 2)

SCENE: The gallows. Elvis, Cece, and the others are tied up and being forced to listen to Manson’s ramblings. Suddenly, in the middle of Manson’s speech, Elvis starts twisting and turning in his chair in obvious discomfort.

M (in the middle of his monologue): Actually, pretty much everyone else gets drugs. Don’t forget to get drugs, everybody! Now, I know what you’re thinking, you’re worried you might not--

E (keeps twisting in discomfort): Stop this! Please, you gotta untie me!

M (confused, as he knows that’s not part of the script, but thinking Elvis is ad-libbing, he tries to go with it and starts to redo the line): Like I said, dude, you gotta join the family first. Now, I know what you’re thinking, you’re worried--

E (beginning to sweat, almost yelling): Dude, I’m fuckin’ serious here! I ain’t acting! Hurry up and untie me!

M: Uh...okay, sure dude.

After Manson finishes untying him, Elvis runs off the set like a maniac, with everybody giving confused looks. After a little while, the sound of a toilet flushing is heard offscreen and Elvis returns, smoothing his clothes and his hair in the process before he sits down again.

E: Ugh. Sorry, guys. I had way too much coffee and it started fighting those three fried PB& banana sandwiches I had for lunch. Okay, I’m all right now. Sorry!

C: Wait, did you say fried PB& banana sandwiches? Eeew.

E: Hey, don’t knock ‘em until you try ‘em.

Director (sighs before pinching the bridge of his nose): CUT! Okay, guys, I’m only gonna say this once: go to the bathroom before shooting, got it?!

****

SCENE: The big fight. Elvis, Cece and the others (minus Bobby Ray) have managed to escape and are now hacking away at Manson’s “family”. They then notice that despite their attacks, many of the cult members are still standing.

E: Huh. Well, that’s new.

C: They’re not going down! They’re like...hippie zombies--!

M: Even better! They’re so high they can’t feel a thing! It’s beautiful, man!

Cece reaches for her knife to stab one of the “zombies” behind her, but instead suddenly pulls out what looks like a large rubber chicken.

C: Huh? Wait, this isn’t mine!

She begins to laugh, followed by Elvis and the others.

Director: CUT! Alright, who replaced Cece’s knife with a rubber chicken?

Scatter begins laughing maniacally in the background.

Director: Ugh, Scatter! Really?! We don’t have time for practical jokes! All right, let’s reset! Wipe off the blood and let’s go again!

****

SCENE: Graceland. Elvis and Priscilla are sitting and watching his comeback special, with Priscilla cuddled up to Elvis on the couch. Priscilla’s supposed to lean over to kiss Elvis, but after the “action” call, nothing happens.

E: Uh...honey? You okay?

Elvis gently pokes Cilla’s shoulder and her cheek, before hearing a soft snore; he realizes she’s fallen asleep on him. 

E (laughs softly): Uh, maybe we should try this tomorrow.

****

SCENE: The bar. Cece’s enjoying a drink and talking with the Commander in the shadows.

C: He’s a big boy, he’ll be fine.

Co (speaking a little more slowly than usual): Well, not exactly. Maybe I’m underselling this a bit. The monkey--

The bartender interrupts

B: Hey, Don Corleone! Your Manhattan’s ready!

The Commander turns around and steps out of the shadows, already looking like he’s had a few drinks before unsteadily reaching for the next one.

Director: CUT! Look, save the alcohol for the end of the day, please!

Ep. 2 coming soon! Thanks for reading! Sorry this is a shorter one; I just didn’t want to make this part too long.

[trent-tells-tales]

Life is but a Dream

Sandra examined the mug through tired eyes. She’d been up all night, arguing with her cat.

“Mmrow!” The cat yowled.

“No,” Sandra retorted.

It went on like that for hours.

Some hours, she managed to drown him out with a constant brown-noise played over her earbuds. Other times, she’d awake to find her earbuds had fallen out. As if fully aware of this, the cat would start his rant up again within minutes of her emergence from the sea of sleep.

Despite the disruptions, Sandra never felt too tired. Or, rather, she always felt exactly the same amount of tired she’d been her entire life. One would expect constant interruptions to one’s sleep schedule to lead to some obvious detriment, and yet there was none. None that had not already been present, anyway.

So, she awoke, trekked downstairs (while the cat slept soundly on the edge of the bed, snoring, the little hellion), and poured herself a cup of Stok-brand cold brew. Pre-made coffee in hand, she was left to examine the mug. She could have downed a gulp of the liquid—but the mug. The mug.

I am a dream, the mug read.

Sandra had no memory of purchasing the mug. She’d never seen it before in her life. I am a dream, it insisted. Frowning, she set the mug down and pinched her arm. The pain was definite. Exact. A red mark remained when she pulled her fingers away from the plot of skin she’d attacked.

She tried a few grounding techniques.

She could smell the coffee, if she put her nose over the edge of the mug. She couldn’t smell much else; she had a weak olfactory. But she could feel the cold tiled floor under her bare feet. She could feel the handle to the refrigerator, sloping and curved under her hand. She could feel the neck of the Stok bottle as she set it back on its rack, and she could feel the cold air wafting out of the refrigerator, too.

She could feel her heart, beating lazily in her chest.

Ba-bump, over and over.

She sipped the coffee. It was bitter; she hadn’t sweetened it. She could have kept going, but she was convinced by then that she was awake.

I am a dream, the mug seemed to whisper.

Words were supposed to change in a dream. They were supposed to be mutable. You could read a book, but when you re-examined it, everything would be completely different. She crept into the living-room, knelt, and extracted a book from the shelf on the floor. Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief. She flipped it open to the first page.

“Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood”, the book read.

She closed the book, closed her eyes, and drew in a sharp breath. She held it. After four seconds had passed, she opened her eyes, opened the book, and read.

“I am a dream”.

Sandra dropped the book, stood, and traced a path back to the kitchen.

She was dreaming.

How was that possible? What could she do?

She tried to fly, and found she could not. She tried to grow an extra pair of arms, and failed. She tried to conjure a long dead friend.

Something in the basement thumped, as if a heavy tome had toppled from a shelf and slapped angrily against the floor.

Without thinking, she raced to the basement door, shut it, and locked it. And then she slumped there, her head resting against the dark brown wood, and thought. She thought for an eternity. She thought for only seconds. She thought until a scratching, leaking thing began to slither its way up the basement stairs. Hearing it, she bolted up and raced to the counter, snatched the cursed mug from where she’d left it, and downed her coffee in several quick gulps.

The liquid was cold and heavy in her stomach.

She deposited the mug in the sink and half-jogged upstairs. Her cat still slept on the edge of the bed, indifferent to the fact that it, too, was a dream. She’d heard that cats could ward off evil spirits. Surely whatever lurked in the basement was one such spirit. She knelt at the foot of the bed, placed her hand over the cat.

Its eyes opened.

[jodilin65]

When I read a post by someone in the park warning about out-of-control coyotes being in heat, I thought to myself that I’ve never heard any coyotes in the 2.5 years we’ve been here. I’d only heard them when I lived in California and Arizona. Then at 2:00 in the morning, I heard what sounded like more than one coyote. The dogs in the subdivision were going off like they often do at night. Then I heard the yipping of the coyotes, and then silence. I hope the owner was smart enough to take their damn dogs indoors and that they weren’t harmed. If not, then shame on them for making the dogs outdoor live decor instead of the household pets they should be.

Never will I go out walking at night! Not even with Tom. Rural areas aren’t the place to go out walking at night anyway. Even walking at night in a gated community in the city as we did was risky. Just because there may not be as many wild animals there didn’t mean there weren’t wild people. After all, homeless people were worming their way into the area when we left.

Anyway, I slept shitty…again. Removing the pillow didn’t help and I snored myself awake again, though I’m not sure it’s actually snoring but this weird sound I seem to be making. It’s not consistent but still.

The thing is that people don’t usually get sleep apnea this late in life which makes me think it really is connected to my weight or something else is going on. Something like a sleep curse because I’ve had problems with sleep in one form or another all my life. Tom may scoff at the idea of anything cursing my sleep but while we haven’t proven there is we haven’t exactly disproven this possibility either. If something happens every now and then, good or bad, I wouldn’t necessarily call it lucky or unlucky. Well, unless the good thing is winning a million dollars and the bad thing is dying. But when something unpleasant keeps happening and I see a pattern, that’s when I begin to wonder how it could be one big coincidence. I’m not saying anything either way but I definitely wonder at times.

I looked in my 2021 journal and it seems like I may have been about 5 pounds lighter than I am now when we came here. I didn’t start doing this shit till after we moved in here but can 5 lbs really make a difference? Well, I’m going to try my hardest to find out and limit myself to about 1000 calories a day. ChatGPT makes a great place to keep a running total of my daily calories as opposed to Fitbit where I had to look things up that I couldn’t always find. You had to be really precise there.

So I got up to pee when I woke up three and a half hours into my sleep and couldn’t fall back asleep for an hour. This left me exhausted when I got up. I had Ezekiel toast with salmon and a few eggs along with a small candy bar I sometimes treat myself to when we get groceries delivered. I’m out of coffee so now I’m having calorie-free tea when I get up. Green tea was recommended when I asked Alexa because it’s supposed to rev the metabolism. By then I’d had about 580 calories, did a little online work after I ate, and laid in bed for about 90 minutes. I didn’t sleep but it felt good to lie there.

Then I got up again for a while, got hit with a wave of tiredness, and took a real nap for an hour. I fell asleep to the splish splash of the dishwasher running and dreamed I was in a large waiting room full of people. I was with Tom and perhaps someone else I knew. We were sitting against the wall in what looked like picnic tables.

My name was eventually called by a young petite blonde woman. I got up and stepped out of the room and into a brightly lit corridor. Realizing everything was very blurry, I told her I wanted to run back and look for my glasses.

They were very hard to find because the room was so dark all of a sudden. This was an important appointment to get fitted for some clothes for some reason because I was literally thanking God when I found them.

When I stepped back into the hall, the woman was still young but now she was a tall stout brunette. She smiled at me and led me to see my new clothes. I remembered filling out a form saying that my style was trendy even though I would likely choose something along the lines of colorful in real life not that trendy clothes can’t be colorful.

We got some heavy rain yesterday which kept the place quiet. Could get some rain this morning as well.

No reply from Christiane. Figures.

The honker still has overnight visitors.

Not sure I’ll have the energy to hit the road. I’ve got about 100 miles to get through Missouri. My rank is now 126 and I have about 1530 miles left in the entire trip. I’m almost halfway through!

Soon I will be having tilapia with a sweet potato and veggies. This will put me at around 840 calories. Then it’s nothing but snacking on almonds for the rest of the day and toughing out the hunger. This kind of sucks too, because I’m only in the middle of my day. :-( Yet the only way I’ve ever been able to lose weight, even when I was young and had a healthy thyroid, was to severely restrict calories.

[bitchybylershipper]

alright yall just got home from my first experience with an overnight camp and i have a few things to say

on the way up there we were driving along a river and i genuinely got so excited about it i started shaking and then my only thought was "i should probably go outside more often"

so i wasnt talking to anyone on the way up i was just chillin in the back of the 15 passenger van and then the girls in the seats in front of me wanted to talk to me or whatever on the last stretch of the drive so they were throwing goldfish at me to get my attention 💀

when everyone was trying to figure out which bunk they were taking it sounded like everyone was trying to decide on a sex position

it was like 11:30 and the lights were off and one of the girls was walking like REALLY heavy like a goddamn elephant or something and i was like jesus christ who tf is that

people forgot to turn off their school alarms so at 5:30 i woke up to a dog barking sound and it woke up everyone in the cabin EXCEPT the person whose alarm it was 💀

at 7:15 i woke up and wanted to take my counselors life because her alarm was windchimes and it was on like volume 110

im so autistic i forgot that other people actually change their clothes everyday so when i came back from the bathroom yesterday i was shocked to my core to see three girls without shirts on

i did not really know anyone yesterday morning so i didnt want to talk to ANYONE and then the camp leader was like hey youre quiet and i was like i dont have very much to say my friends arent here and then he assigned someone to try to include me which she really tried but i am so bad at holding a conversation with someone im not comfy around and she gave up and went to play vollyball 💀

after that the counsellor with the horrifying alarm was trying to make me feel included but i was Not Having It and i genuinely felt so bad for her for trying so hard when i was not in a good spot to talk to

at lunch yesterday i had two cups of coffee and was going crazy in the lodge like my senses were mega heightened and i was talking so fucking fast like those people at the end of goddamn commercials and then i found a drinking fountain and literally and actually lost my fucking mind

at one point i was supposed to go get my folder but when i tried to grab it i accidentally papercutted THREE of my fingers and i was like bruh how even tho i knew something like that was going to happen i was still shocked appalled when it did

around like 4:00 i was in the bathroom and my cheeks were like really red and warm and i was like oh shit sleep deprivation is catching up to me again anti-fever medication save me and then the camp leader said something about sunburns and i was like ohhhhh thats probably whats wrong with me

my (new) friend violet was putting hot sauce on her goddamn mashed potatoes last night (i have photo and video evidence of this i am being so serious) and then another girl was taking shots of hot sauce out of literal fucking olives like black olives from a can

we got lost on a hike at 10:00 at night last night 💀

after the hike we had a fire and smores and then we did something called an affirmation circle where we all took turns being the center of attention and everyone had to say something nice about us and i was like oh god what are they gonna say about me and then it was my turn and they were all so nice to me i was about to cry

our camp leader didnt want to have a turn in the affirmation circle but we all wanted to let him know how much we love and appreciate him (for most of us hes our trusted adult) and it got really emotional and then when we got back to the cabins everyone was crying

one of my counselors used to be a massage therapist and those of us who wanted one she was giving us massages and basically turned us all into playdough by the way it was sooo funny how the people with anxiety disorders had the most knots in their muscles (hehe. my shoulder hurts.)

at about 1 am there were like four different snores happening and i was about to lose it

i think i just barely went over my sweet spot of just enough sleep because when it was actually time to get up my eyes did Not want to stay open lmao

we had waffles for breakfast. violet put fUCKING HOT SAUCE ON HER GODDAMN WAFFLES. HOT SAUCE. ON HER GODDAMNFUCKING WAFFLES.

violet also downloaded ttpd while we were hiking last night and we listened to it in the car i love her sm 🫶

[kira-s-cat]

Honestly thanks to totcf volume one,

I can handle plot twists better

But thanks to that too, I'd try to anticipate what comes next by overthinking but then it's always illogical plot twist yet still makes sense if you understand it enough

The plot twists are on fan theory level, but that part where it won't really make sense until canonically confirmed and explained

[topgun-imagines]

Pain Meds 

Requested: yes 

Summary: After an incident during training you put your husband on bed rest until he feels better. The only problem is that the painkillers hurt his stomach. 

Word count: 1.3k 

Warnings: Mentions of death. Mentions of plane crashes. Wounds. Stitches. Pills. 

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x wife!reader

“No,” Bradley’s face was hard and impassive. You sighed. Your husband had been refusing to take his pain medication for over an hour now. A few weeks ago, Bradley had entered a flat spin. You weren’t cleared to know exactly everything that had happened but from what you had been told you knew that something had malfunctioned, causing the engine to stall which resulted in your husband entering a flat spin. The ejection had been hard; the terrain was rough and unrelenting which caused Bradley more than a few injuries. Safe to say, you were horrified. You knew about how his father died and imagining how Bradley must have been feeling in that moment broke your heart. He had been cleared from medical care a few days ago but was still on leave to give himself time to fully recover. You had put him on bed rest the second he walked through the door. Your eyes focused on Bradley again. Every now and then, you could tell when a certain move caused a jolt of pain to run through him. Yet he still refused to take his damn medication. 

You let out a sigh. “Bradley please,” Practically begging him at this point, you held out the pill bottle once more. It was still mostly full after nearly a week of what was supposed to be two pills a day. “I just want you to feel better.” It killed you to see the pain that your husband was in. Knowing that he had an opportunity to help himself, to relieve the pain that he was in but refused to take it bewildered you. He sat in front of you silently, refusing to meet your eyes. With a sigh, you stood up. You set the pill bottle on the coffee table in front of his before moving to walk back into the kitchen 

Bradley let out a dejected sigh. “Wait,” He called softly, halting you in your spot. You turned back to face him. His eyes were cast down onto the floor. “It’s not that I don’t want to take them,” He started softly. You made your way toward him and sat down. Taking his hand in yours, you squeezed it softly. His eyes drifted up to yours. “They make my stomach hurt,” He practically whined. Hearing that come from a grown man made you chuckle slightly. When Bradley heard your soft giggles his head snapped back up to you. “Hey!” Your husband was pouting now.

Your laughter slowly died down as he tried to disguise his amusement in a glare.  “I’m sorry, baby,” Setting your hand on his cheek, you rubbed your thumb over his cheek, brushing over the corner of his mustache. When he continued to pout you rolled your eyes fondly. You could never deny his puppy dog eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.” He smiled widely at you. With one final kiss pressed to his forehead, you stood from the couch and headed into the kitchen. You knew Bradley got stomachaches easily and you had picked up on a few things that he appreciated. 

Opening the medicine cabinet you groaned quietly. You were all out of the one kind of medicine that Bradley preferred. It was the only kind that ever seemed to work for him. You checked the fridge quickly to see if there was any Ginger Ale, another thing that was perfect for both you and Bradley. To your surprise, there was none. You could have sworn you bought a case the other day. With a sigh, you plucked your keys off the counter and headed back to the living room. 

“I’m gonna run to the store,” You called, slipping your shoes on. When Bradley didn’t respond you grew curious. He wasn’t ignoring you, was he? “Brad?” You spoke softly. Heading back to where your husband was on the couch, your heart melted at the sight in front of you. Bradley was asleep, arms crossed under the pillow and lips parted as he snored softly. With a small smile, you adjusted the thin blanket wrapped haphazardly around his waist before kissing his temple. 

With Bradley asleep, you decided that you would walk over to the store. It wasn’t that far, plus it gave your husband some extra piece and quiet. You slipped out of the house quietly, beginning the five-minute walk. You and Bradley had decided to buy a house in Miramar for the time being. After the Uranium Mission, the higher up’s decided that the Dagger Squad would remain as a permanent detachment. Maverick had essentially moved in with Penny at this point and many of the other members had purchased homes around the base. Your home was in the perfect location; not too far from the Hard Deck, the base, and everyone else’s home. 

You stepped into the cool air conditioning of the store and immediately headed over to the medication isles. It was a relatively small store, but seeing as it was on a Navy base it was stocked with an abundance of painkillers. After a quick scan of the shelves your eyes landed on the pills you were looking for. Grabbing the box, you picked up a pack of Ginger Ale before heading to the till. You smile at the cashier as you paid, grasping the bag that she handed you before heading back towards your house. 

When you returned home, you found Bradley in the same state that you left him in, mouth hung open as snores poured freely from it. You shook your head fondly before moving past him to the kitchen. You poured one of the cans into a glass before grabbing two of the painkillers. 

Back in the living room, Bradley was beginning to stir. He had always been a light sleeper, his years in the Navy making it very easy to wake him up. “Bradley,” You hummed softly, setting the glass on the table and running your hand through his honey curls. A small grunt was all you got in response. “Brad, baby, I’ve got something for you,” You watched as his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks softly. He groaned as he sat up, wincing due to his stitches. It hurt you to see him in this much pain. “Here babe.” You spoke softly. Bradley brought a hand up to wipe the sleep from his eyes. He took the pills from you gratefully, sipping on the Ginger Ale to help swallow them.  

Once the pills were down, your husband wound his arm around you and pulled you into his chest softly. You tried not to lean into him too much, wary of his healing wounds. The steady beating of his heart under your ear calmed you slightly. He was alive. He would be fine. His hand began rubbing soothing circles on your back as he guided the pair of you to lie down on the couch. Your eyes slowly shut. A scent that was entirely Bradley filled you. Above you, Bradley was messing with the television remote, trying to turn on a random movie to play in the background. Once one was picked, his hands returned to the small of your back. “What would I do without you, pretty girl?” He whispered into your hair. Bradley pressed a light kiss to your temple. 

You grinned and laughed quietly. “You’re lucky you never have to find out,” All you heard in response was Bradley’s soft hum. Slowly, your hands dipped below the seam of the T-shirt he was wearing. You began tracing over the edges of the forming scars softly. Snuggling further into him, you pressed a kiss to the center of his chest. “I love you, Bradley.” 

One of his hands squeezed your hip softly. “I love you, too, baby girl.”

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open.