#if you take melatonin every night your body stops making as much of it

[mstopportunity]

I get where you're coming from (although I need you to know that both chemical and habitual addictions literally *are* diseases of the brain, same way that depression and PTSD are). My issue is that the theories described are not talking about the onset of addiction so much as they are the state of the addict. And while there may not really be much of a difference for the right-wing theory, the left wing theory doesn't posit that addiction pops up out of nowhere. Which is what this article seems to imply.

I guess that's my issue. The article says it debunks the left-wing model for addiction, because of their research into the onset of addiction. While the model they describe isn't concerned with the onset of addiction at all, but rather the state of the addict and what kind of support they need. It's both-sides'ing a model that is objectively wrong and a model that is mostly correct but not what they were looking at.

And I can go into more detail about how addiction really is a brain disease if you like.

“Get a rat and put it in a cage and give it two water bottles. One is just water, and one is water laced with either heroin or cocaine. If you do that, the rat will almost always prefer the drugged water and almost always kill itself very quickly, right, within a couple of weeks. So there you go. It’s our theory of addiction. Bruce comes along in the ’70s and said, “Well, hang on a minute. We’re putting the rat in an empty cage. It’s got nothing to do. Let’s try this a little bit differently.” So Bruce built Rat Park, and Rat Park is like heaven for rats. Everything your rat about town could want, it’s got in Rat Park. It’s got lovely food. It’s got sex. It’s got loads of other rats to be friends with. It’s got loads of colored balls. Everything your rat could want. And they’ve got both the water bottles. They’ve got the drugged water and the normal water. But here’s the fascinating thing. In Rat Park, they don’t like the drugged water. They hardly use any of it. None of them ever overdose. None of them ever use in a way that looks like compulsion or addiction. There’s a really interesting human example I’ll tell you about in a minute, but what Bruce says is that shows that both the right-wing and left-wing theories of addiction are wrong. So the right-wing theory is it’s a moral failing, you’re a hedonist, you party too hard. The left-wing theory is it takes you over, your brain is hijacked. Bruce says it’s not your morality, it’s not your brain; it’s your cage. Addiction is largely an adaptation to your environment. […] We’ve created a society where significant numbers of our fellow citizens cannot bear to be present in their lives without being drugged, right? We’ve created a hyperconsumerist, hyperindividualist, isolated world that is, for a lot of people, much more like that first cage than it is like the bonded, connected cages that we need. The opposite of addiction is not sobriety. The opposite of addiction is connection. And our whole society, the engine of our society, is geared towards making us connect with things. If you are not a good consumer capitalist citizen, if you’re spending your time bonding with the people around you and not buying stuff—in fact, we are trained from a very young age to focus our hopes and our dreams and our ambitions on things we can buy and consume. And drug addiction is really a subset of that.”

—

Johann Hari,

Does Capitalism Drive Drug Addiction?

(via bigfatsun)

[porkcutletbowl44]

The Man You Need

Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

Tags!: 🔞NSFW. MDNI. unprotected p in v sex(wrap it in foil before you check her oil), dirty talk, creampie, PWP, Insomnia!reader, brief mention of misogyny, semi-public sex, shower sex, reader is also kinda bratty

(Ik y'all are only here for the porn that's why the plot dies quick lmao)

A big thank you to the 200 followers and counting 🫶🏻🩷

• · ────── ·🔞🖤🔞· ────── · •

"Y'look knackered, 'aven't been sleepin' enough?"

Simon's voice forces you to stop staring at the stale scones under the heat lamp, yanking you out of that day dream of falling face first into the breakfast line to get real sleep.

"Just the usual insomnia," you reminded. "What plans do you have today?" You asked, gatherthering the last of your breakfast.

His long strides effortlessly keeping up with your shorter ones. He towers over you as you both approach the table where you both sat normally.

"Just the usual, trainin' new recruits." He answers in the same manner as you, he sits down opposite you. He stretches his long legs out under the table, his calves brushing yours.

His eyes fixed on you like little bugs on your skin, taking in every detail of your face.

"'ow long has it been since y'last slept through a night?" He asks gruffly.

"Saturday." You answered.

His jaw clenches momentarily behind the thin fabric of his balaclava, and his shoulders stiffen.

"Y'mean to tell me its been three days an' you're still functioning?" He retorts, skepticism written on his face. He knows you, and he knows how bad your insomnia gets.

"Yeah. Doesn't help when we have to wake up early."

Simon lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand over his face.

"You can't survive on 2 or 3 hours o' sleep a day. Y'know you're pushin' it too far. You're going to collapse soon if y'don't get your sleep under control."

He's always stern when he speaks, but with you it's like he's scolding you like a child who doesn't know any better.

You do know better; you've busted your ass to get where you are. You've had to deal with everything in the book to fight to where you are now in the military, and he knows that, he's been there the majority of the time and yet he nags you everyday about something.

"Well I'm trying, Si. Melatonin doesn't work and it gives me bad headaches." You mumbled irritably.

"Doesn't work, eh? An' I can see those bags under your eyes. Headaches too..." He rubs his chin as he looks at you, his eyes calculating. "What 'ave you tried so far, love? I've told you to keep me updated."

"The sleepy tea worked for a little bit, and then it didn't. I tried running before bed, no screen time, benadryl..."

Simon grunts and leans back in his chair, listening to you list all the things you've already tried and don't work, his frustration only seems to grow with this situation— or you?

"Bloody hell. You've tried everythin', 'aven't you? Nothin' seems to work, it's as if your body just won't shut down."

Sometimes this leads to the same thing over and over again, the 'you have to sleep' or, 'why do you do this to yourself?'. You just smile and nod, because yes, you can 100% control this.

"Well, sometimes another thing works, but it's just too much of a hassle." You shrugged, sipping some vitamin water.

Simon's brows furrow as he hears your muttered words. He leans forward, his gaze intense.

"What 'other things?'"

You sometimes keep things from him, and he won't let you get away with it this time. Or, there's the other times you are blunt, disgustingly blunt. You live with a bunch of men, who do not have a filter, that alone has killed yours out of existence.

You blink, fidgeting in place. "Ahem. Me time?"

He's not dense, he knows exactly what you mean and he's not one to back down from anything that usually makes normal people squeamish or "grossed out".

"An" 'ow is it 'too much o' a hassle exactly?" He asks, a slight raise in an eyebrow.

"My hand cramps." You rolled your eyes, it was obvious, who doesn't have that problem sometimes?

He crosses his arms over his broad chest with a humored look, your honesty can be either amusing or completely looked over.

"Your hand cramps, you say? Thas a hell o' a reason."

He chuckles softly, his eyes raking over you, taking in the sight before him. His gaze is heated. Your face can feel it, it's warm, it's like he's putting your face close to a bonfire with that look. For months you two do this... This thing that borders flirty and suggestive but at the same time it doesn't quite feel like either.

"Yeah. Thinking about going down to the store."

His eyes snap up, crossed arms going lose from his chest. He's not stupid; he knows what "going down to the store" means.

"You're talkin' about goin' to get one o' those things." His voice is low, but not quite harsh. He's almost hesitant to say it out loud, but he says it with so much disdain.

You deadpan. "A vibrator, Simon. A vibrator."

The tops of his cheeks flush red beneath his balaclava at your blunt response. You giggle a little, not expecting such a reaction from Lieutenant Ghost. What's the big deal? Did guys not talk about fleshlights? Brand recommendations?

He clears his throat before speaking, a little husky and quiet. No way, are you embarrassing him with girl stuff?

"Y-yeah. One o' those." He stutters, his usual confidence wavering. "Yes, thank you, love. I realize that. I just..." He trailed off, blinking a few times.

"Y'can't be serious. You're goin' to use a toy instead o' asking for help?"

It's like he can't believe you just said that out loud, in a busy mess hall no less. This is what it took? Talking about sex toys to make him awkward?

"Uhm...yeah? I less you have a boyfriend in your pocket waiting for me." you retort.

And yikes, he didn't seem to like that. His eyes squint, probably crinkle in his nose. He paused, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes studying your face closely.

"You don't seriously think y'need a toy instead o' just asking me, do you?"

Why does he sound hurt??

Your stomach does a backflip off your intestines and into a hot tub of oil. He did not just say that. You must be asleep, yes, you must be dreaming.

You giggled, "Good one."

Simon gives a low grumble, his jaw flexing and grinding. This apparently wasn't a laughing matter to him. Is he serious? Your tongue works over your teeth, trying your absolute hardest to be so cool, nonchalant, you don't care you don't care—

"'M not jokin', love. You don't honestly think that a toy would be better than the real thing, do you?"

Of course it's not fucking better. But what choices did you have? Sleep with one of your teammates and then get a dishonorable discharge? Make things awkward in your team?

"Oh... Considering it's illegal to have relationships, yes. A vibrator won't leave me, cheat on me, break my heart... It's perfect." You shrugged— it was for the best anyways.

He knew the rules just as much as you did. And he followed them religiously. What the hell is going on? Why would he just suggest that out of the blue?

"Y'think you'd be better off with a piece o' silicone than takin' the chance on me?"

You pinch your thigh under the table. Nope. You're still here in mess hall, in front of your now cold breakfast, and Simon is still trying to convince you to fuck him.

"Y'wouldn't be satisfied with that thing. You'd get bored, love..." He sounds so sure, and jealous when he speaks of the horrible, terrible, vibrator.

"How would you know?" You quired quickly.

Just to double check. Maybe the sleep deprivation was catching up.

"I know 'cause I know you. You'd get tired o' that thing eventually, you'd want somethin' real."

He paused for a moment, his eyes lidding, darkening, consuming.

"You'd want someone to touch you, love. Not some piece o' plastic an' silicone."

"Yeah, like I'd ever get that," you barked out a laugh out of sheer nerves.

He didn't like that anymore than your last dismissive reply, you may just be convinced about now. So, cue to you squeezing your thighs together in your seat. Acting completely normal. Because everything about this is so normal; your coworker just telling you to come to him for a good fuck to be able to sleep.

"What do y'mean by that? 'ow can you say that with a straight face? Y'don't think anyone would want to touch you? Let y'know 'ow loved you are?" He grumbled, his hands clenching on top of the table.

"Y'think you're so undesirable that nobody would want you? Bloody hell..." He shakes his head.

"Simon, take a look at me." You licked your lips to prevent a shout of frustration, yikes, you do need sleep.

Simon's eyes fly over your form, from head to toe. He took his time studying you, his eyes lingering over the curves of your body, the way your hair fell over your face. There isn't a damn thing wrong with the way you look.

"'M lookin' at ya, love. An' what I see is perfection. So tell me again... what's your damn point?"

Oh, good God. It's real. But this is better than you imagined; you want to make him work for it. All because it's hotter to get a man to work for something, get all riled up.

"What do you see? A cutesy little girly girl? A nice little housewife for a big strong man?" You asked sarcastically.

"I see a woman who's strong, capable, an' bloody beautiful." He glares, offended you'd even think about saying that, "You're not some dainty damsel in distress, you're a force to be reckoned with..."

"My point exactly. Men don't want a chick that's more man than them." You rolled your eyes at just mentioning the delicacy of fragile masculinity these days.

Simon grunted and rolled his eyes, his irritation building into something you might not want to poke at.

"Thas where you're wrong, love." He points his spoon at you. "Not all men are as narrow-minded as y'think. I know damn well I want a woman like you. Strong, feisty, sexy."

"My point, Simon! I don't want some fucking pussy, I want someone whose more man than me." You huff.

You're not entirely implying this trait about him... You just wanna see him work for it.

"You're not goin' to find that in a bloody toy, love. You're lookin' in the wrong place if y'think some plastic will make y'feel better. Y'want a man? You already 'ave a man."

He was right there, willing to give you what you needed. But how far will he go?

"Yeah but... I want something real, too." You tried to explain.

This flirting back and forth was something you enjoyed; but what would it mean in the long run?

"Exactly." He huffed a bit exasperated. "Y'want somethin' real. Somethin' I can give you."

He shifted in his seat, leaning closer to you, his eyes deep and intense.

"Y'don't need a toy, love. You 'ave me. 'M real, an' I want you. Don't settle for some piece o' plastic when y'know damn well what you really want."

Okay then, schizophrenic, game on.

"I want someone stronger than me, someone to give me a reason to act like a woman," You snorted.

You were infuriating at times.

"An' y'think I can't give ya that? Y'think I can't make y'feel like a woman? Like a fuckin' queen?" That retort comes out low, accusing. "I can definitely make y'feel like a woman. Y'don't need someone stronger than you, love. Y'just need me."

Nail on the head with that one; yet how far can you take it? You lean between your elbows, squeezing your tits together to make you look as enticing as possible.

"Do I?" You purr.

Simon freezes in time, his plastic spoon almost falling away from his thick fingers. His hand does scramble for it to his credit but he almost dumps his bowl in the process. You hear him clear his throat roughly, Adams apple bobbing at the hem of his mask before it disappears. You bite your lip with a challenging gaze, would he take it?

"Yes," He replied firmly to cover up his hesitation, "Y'need me, love. Y'just don't know it yet. I can make y'feel things no toy ever could. Think y'need a man t'make you feel like a woman? I can do that, an' I will happily."

You smirk, "You're gonna have to try harder than that,"

"Oh, I will, love. You're just askin' for a challenge, aren't you?"

"You afraid to take it?" You shot back slyly.

He was anything but afraid with that look. He was up for the challenge, and you know he's gonna prove it.

"Baby, 'm not afraid o' anythin' when it comes to you," he replied, his voice low and husky. "As long as you can take what I can give you."

He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes searing into yours. There was danger in his gaze, it only made it all the more delicious.

"Y'think you can 'andle me, love? Y'think you're ready for what I can do t'you?"

"Only if you can prove it." You grin.

Ghost let out a low growl, his eyes darkening at your challenging tone. He thrived on it, it only fueling his drive to prove himself to you.

"Oh, I'll prove it, love. I'll prove it again an' again until y'can't even think straight."

"No, no, prove you're more man than me." You corrected easily.

"Y'want to know why 'm more o' a man than you? I can make y'feel things you 'aven't even imagined before. I'll 'ave you beggin' f'me, addicted t'me."

"I'll be waiting, then." You set the challenge in stone. This was it.

The bear has been poked enough. He was on a mission now.

"You'll be beggin' f'me before the night's over." He boasts smoothly, a promise and a warning all in one.

"If I get a good night's sleep I'll consider keeping you,"

You were maddening, and he both loved and hated the way you pushed his buttons. It was all in good heart; for the most part.

"You're already keepin' me, love. Y'just don't know it yet."

You bite your lip, taking a quick survey of the area before replying. This was getting too good to be true.

"Don't disappoint then, we have..." You glance at your watch, humming, "six hours until lights out."

"Thas more than enough time." He grunts, all smug and cocky behind his mask.

Step one, getting recruit work out of the way. It's boring as fuck, mostly watching the Lieutenant scare the absolute piss out of the fresh meat.

Simon was barking orders left and right, ruthless to the soldiers in training. Almost as ruthless as the sun beating down on them.

You abandoned your spot in the shade, clip board in hand. You balance two water bottles on the wooden board as you approach to offer a beverage.

"Thanks," he grumbles, his eyes darting around to ensure no one witnessed the small gesture just like you.

He took the offered water, downing half the bottle in one go and adjusting his mask back in place. You drag your pin down the clip board to check off what's already done.

"Forty laps?"

"Forty laps."

Simon confirmed with a gruff nod, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment before turning back to the recruits. Despite the challenging heat, he refused to end the training drills early no matter how much you teased him about buying him a little extra on your toy run— Viagra.

You thought it was hilarious, him? Not so much.

"An' they better pick up the pace!" He barked, the deep baritone easily reaching the pirvates' ears.

You circle that box, "And the sixty pull ups?" You breathed a bored sigh.

Simon grunted in annoyance.

"Done."

He informed in a low grumble, his jaw working under the balaclava. It was an excessive amount, but many of the recruits wouldn't even make it halfway through. But he didn't care, he was in a mood. A horny one. When was the last time this guy got laid?

"Wasn't accepting any half-assed attempts, either."

"The rope climbing?" You tap your pen at the box.

Simon glances down at the list, eyeing the scribbles and doodles next to the ticked boxes.

"Done." He replies simply.

You could faintly hear the sound of the recruits groaning and grumbling in pain and exhaustion, you almost felt bad. It was minor flashbacks to your recruitment days, yet Simon didn't seem to have that same sympathy judging by the satisfaction in his eyes.

"Aaannnd... Combat." You hum, one last task left for training.

This was where things get interesting.

"Its last. Need to let 'em rest a bit first. Suppose they earned it."

"Generous," you comment blandly.

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep checkin' off the list. I wanna get these fuckin' recruits dismissed soon. 'M sick o' the heat."

The day dragged on painfully slowly. The heat was relentless until the rain would show up any minute, and he was more irritable than usual. Even the recruits seemed to notice his foul mood, giving him a wide berth whenever he was in their vicinity. You were starting to grow bored of his usual job of scaring the hell out of the recruits, (not so bored when sweat rolls down the thickness of his biceps and the bounce of his tits when he jogs up to the trainees to yell at them) and overall wondering when and how the fuck you're supposed to get laid at this point.

Finally, the training was over. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the compound. The recruits limped and hobbled their way to their assigned lodgings, exhausted and sore.

Simon, on the other hand, seemed like he had even more energy than usual. Despite the long, grueling day, he was somehow wired and restless. You should ask what energy drink he uses after you wrap this up. (Hint: it's the male drive to get some pussy).

As the recruits dispersed, one in particular caught your eye. He was the most arrogant and obnoxious of the bunch, strutting around like he owned the place. You and Simon had seen it countless times before, it got old fast.

"Arrogant little prick," Simon muttered irritably.

You tongue your cheek, "What? Threatened by him?"

It's a pointless taunt— Simon? Threatened? Gosh, it's so fun to get men worked up. Simon's eyes narrow at your comment, a grunt bursting out from him.

"Threatened? Me? Fuckin' hell, no." He grumbles offendedly. "I could take 'im apart within a minute. Can't stand the ones caught up in their own 'ead,"

You hum in agreement. You know for a fact you'd pay to see that one day, and Soap would be right behind you.

"You're lucky you're the most tolerable person 'ere," he adds goodnaturedly.

You backhand his shoulder lightly, "Oh, look, your best friend is coming over!"

And speak of the devil, the recruit struts over with that piece of shit arrogant smirk. Simon rolls his eyes in annoyance as he turns to face the strutting recruit.

"Great. Just what I need," The sarcasm is laid on thicker than the suspicious gravy served this morning at breakfast.

The recruit saunters over, his obnoxious confidence on full display. Simon clenches his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Sir... Do we have more extensive training available?" He asks slowly, his own ego taking a hold of his tongue.

Simon's eye twitches at the recruit's pompous tone. Extensive training, more like a request for special treatment to feed that ego.

"Extensive training?" He echos roughly, "F'you? Why?"

The recruit shrugs boredly, "I think your ways are a bit old fashioned, too easy,"

Easy, old fashioned? This cocky little bastard doesn't know the first thing about hard work. And he's about to serve himself his very own buffet of living hell from Simon. You distract yourself with the grass below your feet, taking everything you have to not laugh.

"Y'think we make things easy on you?" He sneers, taking a step closer to the recruit. "Y'think you're hot stuff, eh? Well, you're in for a rude awakening, rookie."

Your lips purse, frowning deeply to stop the smile.

"What makes y'think you deserve anythin' beyond the standard training regime, hmm? You 'aven't earned a fuckin' thing yet." He glares at the recruit, his eyes dark and intense behind his mask. "Y'get your fuckin' arse to the barracks. Your extensive training for the next month? You'll be cleanin' the bathrooms before lights out."

The recruit's smirk falters at Simon's orders. He's not used to being talked back to, much less being told what to do. But he tries to maintain his cocky attitude, not wanting to back down in front of you, maybe. Ugh, men.

"Bathroom duty? That's... a little degrading, isn't it?"

Simon chuckles darkly, his eyes dancing with amusement. This cocky bastard was really pushing his luck more than you were. You almost feel bad if it weren't so funny.

"Degrading?" he sneers. "Welcome to the military, rookie. It's not a goddamn country club. Y'think you can come 'ere, demand extra training, an' expect special treatment? This ain't a playground. You're 'ere to learn discipline, not stroke your ego."

You stifle a laugh behind your clipboard. This was too good, and all the more hot to see Simon angry.

Simon shoots a sidelong glance at you, even though he's supposed to be acting tough and intimidating, he seems to let himself crack through the lieutenant role around you.

The recruit, on the other hand, doesn't notice your amusement. He just looks sulkily at Simon, clearly not pleased with the prospect of bathroom duty.

Simon grabs the recruit roughly by the collar, the display of power and dominance making you jump in place. Simon's firm grip on the recruit's collar startles the cocky little punk, his eyes wide in surprise.

"See, this is your problem," Simon grits lowly. "Y'think you're untouchable. Y'think you're better than everyone else. But lemme tell you somethin', wanker... you're not."

The recruit stammers, eyes frozen with fear.

"Disobey your superior officer again an' I'll make sure your walls are covered in you."

He gives the recruit a rough shove, releasing his collar. The recruit stumbles back, shocked out of words.

"Consider that your final warning," Simon growls. "Now get your arse to the fuckin' barracks, rookie."

The recruit seems to shrink under Simon's intimidating aura, his cocky demeanor shattered and squashed to dust. He mumbles a half-hearted, "Yes, sir," before hurrying away.

You check your watch, "Well, today has been fun. It's too bad you only have three hours left."

Three hours left, you say? He hadn't even started yet. Because of training, of course.

"Three hours, huh?" He grumbles, eyes setting in determination. "Don't count me out yet, love. I can do a lot in three hours."

"Hurry it up, or in three hours I'll have a brand new shiny vibrator." You grin cheekily.

"You won't be needin' any damn vibrator if I 'ave anythin' to say 'bout it," he hisses. "I don't need any bloody gadgets to 'elp out."

He starts to stalk towards you, his eyes intense and focused. Your thighs squeeze together, pleased with your outcome.

"Three hours is more than enough time f'me to prove myself, love. An' you'll be beggin' before the clock strikes, guarantee ya that."

"Right," you drawl with a roll of your eyes.

He reaches up with a rough hand, grabbing your chin and lifting it so your eyes meet his.

"Y'think I can't prove myself in three hours, huh? That I need some bloody toy to 'elp me out? I promise you, love, you'll be singin' a different tune."

You giggle teasingly, biting your tongue through your smile.

"Tick tock, Simon." You singsong.

You were mocking him, challenging him, all for this purpose.

"You're playin' a dangerous game, love," he growls down at you, "Y'think you can tease an' walk away with that pretty lil smile on your face. But you're gonna find out real quick that I won't back down, even when you're being a cheeky lil minx."

You smirk dreamily, staring up at him with raw want. You kinda want him to do something extravagant, proving himself just because. When was the last time you had fun like this?

"You're pushing your luck, love," he grunts, his voice gruff with barely concealed desire. "If you keep lookin' at me like that, there ain't gonna be enough time to do everythin' I wanna do to you."

You pull from his hand, turning on your heel as you call over your shoulder,

"I'll be waiting, Si,"

You were taunting him, teasing him, with that sultry little comment and casual tone. You feel his eyes on your ass with each sway of your hips, that naked feeling let's you know he's undressing you with his eyes.

You whip out your phone to look at the time, alas, there's just no way what you want can happen. The rules, regulations, and the severe lack in privacy.

Shooting Captain a quick text for permission to leave base for an hour you head into the higher up showers for some much needed washing of the sweat collected on your body.

As you toss your towel on the bend, your phone buzzes.

'Permission granted. I'll let the team know you'll be out.'

Your heart drops to your ass as you frantically text back—

'Wait no that's not necessary!!!!!'

And then, to your horror, you get a ping in the group text.

Shit.

The team knows youre just going out, but Simon knows. Simon knows you're chickening out from the challenge.

"Fuck!" You hiss, frantically looking around the showers as if there were anything that could help you.

There's nothing. Not the gathered pubes in the moldy shower drain nobody uses, not the faded rusting lockers, not the dirty windows that nobody will ever be able to see out of no matter how much scrubbing

You're fucked.

But how fucked, do we wager? Does this mean Simon will get in his feelings and never talk to you again? Will he out you? (No, it wouldn't ever—) What if he gets revenge?... What kind of revenge?

As you stand there, panic setting in, a voice rings out from the entrance of the shower area.

"What 'appened to three hours?"

You squeak as the door slams, the deadbolt echoing through the room.

You are locked in the showers with Simon.

"What's with the sudden cold feet?" Simon grunts as he rounds the corner, closing the distance between you in slow, measured strides.

"I-I can explain—" you stammer, phone dropping on the bench next to your towel.

He stalks towards you, his steps slow and deliberate. There's a dangerous edge to his gaze that makes your heart beat even faster in your chest.

You're trapped, unable to back away, and he looms over you like a caged beast.

"Explain why you're runnin' away from the challenge you issued, love?" he drawls, stopping just a few feet away from you. "This I 'ave to 'ear."

He crosses his arms as he stands there, his eyes never leaving your face. You're in for it now, his expression seems to say.

You chuckle nervously, gesturing between the two of you, "I mean, realistically it can't ever happen—"

"Who says it can't?" He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, rough growl. "I don't care 'bout the damn regulations, love. That's not gonna stop me from 'aving you."

"Y-You are all about the rules, Si. You follow them to a T— You wouldnt—" you swallow thickly. What have you done to yourself this time.

"I usually follow the rules, yes," he concedes tauntingly, "An' right now, those rules are fuck all to me anymore."

Your tongue suddenly feels heavy in your mouth, "W-What about—"

Simon leans a forearm over your head and slouches down, his eyes darkened by lust and determination.

"What 'bout...?" he mocks, "Y'think I give a damn 'bout those old geezers with their rules right now? All I care 'bout is 'aving you, 'ere an' now."

Simon's free hand reaches up, his fingers lightly tracing your jawline. "I'll show you 'm fuckin' man enough to 'ave you."

While you are speechless, he adds for you to better understand. "It's just you an' me in 'ere."

"But—" you squeak.

Simon's hand moves quick to cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"No," he growls, "We don't need to follow the rules in 'ere. We don't need anyone's permission. We could be loud, we could be rough. No one would ever know."

No one... Would know.

He leans in, his lips hovering just centimeters from your ear. "Just us in 'ere. You tellin' me you'd rather 'ave some stupid fuckin' toy over a man that can fill you up all night long?" His hand slides down to your throat, holding you tenderly but firmly, "Just say yes, love."

You whimper in delight, his eyes flickering down to your shifting thighs.

"Yeah," he purrs, his hand angling your head up against the wall. "Y'know you want it. Y'want me."

You want him more than sleep. You want him more than some real fucking food.

"Y'know you don't need anythin' else but me t' fuck you stupid."

"Yes," you moan.

Simon's eyes gleam with approval, his grip on your chin tightens slightly.

"That's good fuckin' girl," he growls.

He licks your neck through the mask, chest expanding with a deep inhale that crushes you to the wall.

"Say y'want me," he demands in a gravelly whisper.

What is thinking? Why would you have to think?

"Want you s'bad," you whine.

"Fuckin' right you do," he mutters.

His other hand drifts down, slowly tracing down your body until it lands on your waist, shoving you into the shower stall. For a moment, you thought you were going to get a little groping, made a knead here and there. But no, you're just standing like a dumbass in the empty shower stall.

"Strip." He growls.

Your skin erupts with gooseflesh in the bare shower shall, his gaze unwavering as he waits for his private show. He steps closer, his own clothes still on, thick arms folding over his chest.

"Slowly," he commands, "Show me what's gonna be mine."

You pinch the hem of your cargos, and then switch to your shirt.

What the hell do you even start with?

"Trousers first," Simon instructs roughly.

He stands there, still dressed, but his eyes devouring every inch of you as you slowly pop the button.

You slowly shimmy the waist band over the swell of each hip, pushing down to your ankles. Simon's breaths grow heavier as you flick the material off your feet his eyes transfixed on the movement.

"Thas it. Bra next," he commands, velvety smooth, "Nice n' slow. I want t'see all o' you."

Bra? Bra next? Why not your shirt?

You kick the cargos away, your shirt barely covering over your panties as you unclasp the bra through your shirt and maneuver it out from one of the sleeves to hold it in the tip of your finger.

Simon's eyes zero in on your pebbled nipples and pretty panties, the thin fabric doing little to hide your curves.

"Good girl," he purrs, "Now come 'ere."

You're... You're not even done. He motions with his fingers for you to approach him, his eyes dark with need.

"Do the thing," you manage out.

"The thing?" he grunts in an enticing voice, taking a step forward as you gesture to your mouth and nose.

He reaches up and pulls the mask to his nose, revealing his lips.

"Is this what y'want, love?" he asks, running his tongue across his bottom lip.

"Yeah," you breathe as you wet your lips.

Those would taste so good. You just know it.

"Y'want to see m' mouth, huh?" he asks, a smirk playing at the corners of those now revealed lips that show his canines, a chipped tooth, his lower face in general in its scarred glory, "Y'want to see what I can do, love?"

He closes the remaining space between you in a single stride, grabbing you by the back of the neck and yanking you forward.

His free hand grips your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, his eyes filled with dark hunger that makes your pussy pulse.

His mouth descends on yours, his lips claiming yours in a fiercely possessive kiss. You moan lowly, one of your arms circling his thick waist. He's burning up, hot and sweaty under his clothes that reek of his natural musk.

One of your curious hands ventures down, squeezing at his ass. He breaks the kiss with a surprised grunt, a coy smirk.

"Naughty, that," he huffs, "But I like it. My turn,"

The world before you lunges back, his mouth descending on your neck. He sucks and bites at the sensitive skin, his teeth leaving red marks in their wake.

His hands have a rough exploration, sliding down your skin, pausing just above the waistband of your panties to slide in to the globes of your ass. You stand in your tip toes to lean into him, whimpering at his rough gropes and kneading.

His mouth continues it's path down your neck, his teeth grazing the tops of your covered tits as his hands roughly squeeze and massage your perfect ass.

"Look at you," he growls, "Squirmin' an' I haven't even started."

He pushes your ass up, looking over your shoulder to watch it bounce. His hands slide lower, pulling the elastic of your panties down slightly, "Look at this," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You're fuckin' soaked through."

And he's right.

You squeeze your thighs, trying to rid that sticky mess thats unbearably uncomfortable. He tuts, delivering a slap to your ass.

"Tryin' to get yourself off, love?" he purrs, his fingers tracing along the edge of your panties.

You can't tell the difference between the onyx color from his pupils, you can hardly look at his eyes when his mouth is right there and his own tits are in your face. God, you want to nibble on those chapped lips, feel those fat biceps squeeze you as his hips snap on the backs of your thighs—

He backs you up, his hard cock pressing against you through his jeans, "Y'want it?"

"Yes!" You mewl.

"Thas what I like to 'ear, love," he husks, his fingers playing with the crotch of your panties. "Get that shirt off, wanna see those pretty tits finally."

You squirm, pulling your shirt up and off and throwing it somewhere that doesn't matter right now.

"Perfect," he rasps, his hand reaching up to cup your breast, "These are fuckin' nice,"

You arch, eyes rolling at the nice kneading to your sore flesh of being stuck in a bra all day. To your displeasure, freezing water sprays down your body and your uncomfortable groan bounces off the walls until the water warms up.

He's still fully dressed though, his clothes sticking to his muscular frame, accentuating every hard muscle and scar.

"Shower's a bit shitty," he says, his eyes raking your body. "But we don't 'ave to wait for that to get goin'."

Your panties have disappeared into his pocket, you follow the way his fingers shove it in— Your eyes divert to that large bulge behind the zipper.

"I know what y'want," he grunts, his hand moving to the belt and zipper.

Simon pulls down his zipper, the metal teeth parting revealing a black pair of boxers, which does little to hide the already impressive outline of his hard cock nudging up against the waist band.

He pushes his jeans down his thick thighs, his body still clothed in a tight black shirt and underwear drenched in water.

Your saliva glands burn at the sight of his happy trail plunging past the waist band, eyeing that nice size you only got a little feel of on your leg—

"Want a closer look?" he purrs, his hand slowly palming the base of his covered cock, precum bleeding out from the thin fabric on his thigh.

You make a face at him, your face burning with embarrassment

"What's the matter, love? You shy now?" he says with a smirk, his hand continuing to slowly palm and squeeze, "Y'were all full o' attitude today."

His head tilts mockingly, stroking himself for you, enticing you. Pinch yourself again, this might actually be a dream—

"Go on," he rasps, "Feel me."

You follow a trail of water down to his shirt clinging to his body, his drenched happy trail, and then the outline of his cock.

With one hand, you tug the waist band forward, clenching as he sucks in a breath that makes his abs tense.

He leans forward, his mouth hovering over your ear, "Go on," he husks, "Take it out, love."

He leans back, watching you intently, waiting for you to do as told. Maybe you do like to be told what to do in this context. With your other, you pull him free with your eager hand.

He moans, he fucking moans.

"Thas it, love," he husks out, his voice a little strangled. "Feel me up."

His hands rest on the wall behind you, caging you in. He hips rock into your hand, each stroke of your fist pulling the foreskin back.

"You're so big," you whimper.

Simon lets out a deep, gravelly groan as you speak. It just might be the hottest sound you've ever heard. Right next to the time he was lifting heavy dumbbells, letting all those grunts and growls loose.

He looks down at you, his gaze burning with lust and need, "You want it, baby?" he asks, his hips grinding against your hand harder, "Want this big dick?"

"Want it so bad, Si," you mumbled against his lips, your tongue darting out to lick his teeth.

his mouth claiming yours in a rough, passionate kiss. His tongue immediately tangles with yours, his teeth biting and tugging at your lower lip.

"I know you do," he grunts, his tongue slipping past your lips to slide against yours before speaking again, "You've been eye-fucking me all afternoon, love."

His hands start to wander along your body, mapping your curves with rough caresses,

"You're gonna get it," he husks.

One of his hands moves down to your hip as he moves lower, his mouth following the curve of your throat, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses and bites.

"Want m'cock in that pretty pussy? Or your mouth?"

Where do you fucking think, smart guy?

"In me, inside me, please," you mewl.

His massive paws squeeze your hips to spin you around, planting your hands against the wall.

"Bend over," he growls, his eyes roaming over your body, "'M gonna give you what y'want."

His hands on your hips start to maneuver your body, making you arch your back and hips out.

He runs a hand up your spine, "So pretty," he murmurs as he takes in the sight of your body bent and on display for him.

He steps up behind you, his body flush against your back, his clothes still fucking on and wet and sticking to your body.

"Gonna fill ya up nice n' good," he sucks on his teeth with a low growl, "Been thinkin' o' me all day 'aven't you?"

His hips rock against your ass slowly, his bare cock rubbing on your supple skin.

His hands massage your ass, kneading and squeezing the flesh as you lean on your forearms, moaning as the blunt head notches to your dripping slit.

"Want m'hands all over you," Simon growls against your flesh, his rough palms skimming over your curves, "Mm, relax, yeah? Nice n' easy— Yeah, thas a good girl,"

His hips do a slow, deliberate grind, rocking into you to make room for him as he moves his lips along the curve of your shoulder.

There's slow shallow thrusts, working you open until he takes a deep stroke down to the base. Fuck, he's thick all over, heavy even inside your walls. If you had the brain power, you'd reach below and hold his balls.

"You're so damn gorgeous," he husks darkly, his breath hot against your skin, "I wanted this since I first saw you."

He's so intense he's burning a hole through you with his gaze, his hands still exploring your body, worshiping every curve, every dip, every inch of you.

His hands slide down to the front of your thighs, coaxing your legs further apart, opening you up for him.

"I knew I wanted you the moment you walked in," he breathes, "I knew you'd feel amazing under my hands."

Your cheek presses into the shower wall with a strangled moan,

"S'deep,"

Simon growls at your moan and pushes into you with more force, his hands squeezing your ass to yank you back, spearing you over and over on his cock.

"Fuckin' knew you'd feel s'tight an' good,"

His hand presses on your lower tummy, mouth hot and panting against your shoulder blade. He grabs the back of your hand, his fingers threading through yours and pressing it against the wall.

"Take it, take—this—cock,"

You choke out a moan, slumping against the wall, "please, so close, so close—"

"You gonna come f'me, huh?" he asks, his voice raw and breathless.

It's a lovely sound on him.

"Yes, please, wanna come, haven't came this fast before—" you beg.

He lets out a ragged, possessive growl at your words, his hips piston roughly against your ass, full balls swinging on your clit over and over.

"Come on, pet," he snarls, deft fingers twirling tight circles around your clit.

You whimper loudly, hands sliding down the slick shower walls, hips straining for him as you come hard with a broken mewl.

"That's it, fuck—"

He breaks off in a gutteral moan, hips stilling as he spills inside you. Simon catches you as your legs buckle out from under you, scooping you up against his chest to lean you back against the wall.

You don't even know what just happened in the span of 5 minutes. He's panting hard, his heart pounding against your back.

"Fuck," he growls, burying his face in the crook of your neck, "Fuckin' perfect, love,"

You smile lazily back at him, pawing at his shoulders to pull him in a soft languid kiss, his lips claiming yours in soft, sweet caresses. He melts against your touch, the fierce need from earlier receding now that you're sated. He returns your lazy kiss, his hands gently roaming up and down your back.

"Bloody hell," he mutters against your lips, "Fuckin' perfect, woman." He nips at your neck, "'M not done yet."

Looks like he is the cure to your sleeping problem.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Eggplant (The Surprise, Part 18)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: nightmares, mentions of Emily's fake death, mentions of past sexual trauma (nothing graphic though), discussions of birth/delivery times (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.1k

Summary: You've always struggled with sleep and nightmares, but the third trimester is making it worse than ever. Thankfully, Emily is always there to calm you down and take your mind off the bad dreams.

Note: I know the gif is the man that we can't stand! But it was the most appropriate one! Just use your imagination! Replace him with reader!

Week 28: The Eggplant

You jerked awake, gasping and flailing, struggling to sit up against the weight of your baby bump. Sweat pooled in the dips of your collarbone and at the nape of your neck, dampening the soft strands of hair that rested there.

You blinked in the darkness, sucking in great gulps of air, feeling for Emily next to you. She was already up, already pressing her hand into yours and squeezing your palm, already drawing you into her chest, holding you protectively.

“Hey, hey,” she cooed, “it’s okay. You’re alright. It’s just a dream.”

Your heart raced, and you snaked your arms around Emily’s waist, burying yourself in her. You coughed, your breath still caught in your throat. She ran her thumb gently along the side of your face, wiping away the tears that lingered from the dream.

You’d always had more vivid dreams–and more often–than the average person. As a child, you’d even been diagnosed with a sleep disorder characterized by horrific nightmares. It had faded, but not gone away, as you grew up. After a lot of trial and error, you’d discovered that taking ashwagandha supplements before bed largely put a stop to the nightmares.

But you weren’t allowed to take ashwagandha while you were pregnant or breastfeeding. You’d been lucky until now–the nightmares had been few and far between, despite not being able to take your usual sleep aid. But when you hit the third trimester, they’d come back in full force. Almost every night, horrifically realistic, so terrifying that you were often scared to go back to sleep afterward for fear the dreams would resume. You’d tried melatonin, Benadryl, Tylenol PM, Unisom, and doxylamine. Tonight, you’d tried magnesium. The only thing it’d done was make you have to get up and take a shit in the middle of the night.

Your heart rate was slowing, but your body still shook. You grasped onto Emily’s t-shirt desperately, as if it was the only thing tethering you to the world. Sometimes the dreams involved your family. But most often these days they were about Emily.

“I guess that’s a no on the magnesium, huh?” Emilly whispered, her breath warm at the top of your head. “You want to talk about it?”

You let out a shaky breath, holding her just a bit tighter. “You died again,” you said, your voice so soft she almost couldn’t hear you. You were afraid to speak it into existence.

You could see Emily’s face without seeing it. Always wracked with guilt, always heartbroken. She always told you that going into WITSEC after Doyle, letting you and her team believe she was dead for nearly a year, was the worst thing she’d ever done. There had been no way around it; you knew it and she knew it. You didn’t like to bring it up, didn’t like to make her feel bad. She’d done what she had to do to protect herself, and as much as her fake death had devastated you–destroyed you, even–you couldn’t bring yourself to hold it against her.

“It was Doyle,” you whispered into her neck. “He made me watch.” You shuddered, and Emily grasped your face in both of her hands, turning you gently so she could look you in the eyes. She brushed a strand of hair out of your face and sighed.

“He’s dead, honey,” Emily said firmly. “I will never do that to you again.”

A tear ran down the side of your face, part of your brain still stuck in the dream, still watching Doyle hurt Emily again and again. Emily wiped it away, replacing it with a kiss.

“It’s okay, baby,” she reassured you, her heart aching to see you so scared. “I’m okay. I’m safe.”

“I’m sorry, Em,” you choked out, more tears coming now. It was three in the morning. You were on your second week of waking up terrified every night. Emily always got up with you. She had to be tired. You were exhausted. “You should go back to sleep.”

“Nope,” she protested lightly, drawing you down to the bed with her, pressing your face to her chest. “No crying, come on. It’s okay. You’re up, I’m up. Shh, just let me hold you, alright?”

You leaned into her touch, relishing the way her fingernails felt against your scalp, the weight of her arms around you, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, the up and down of her breath.

“What’ll help?” she asked. “You want to get your mind off it? Think about something else?”

You nodded, sniffling.

“Alright,” she yawned, stretching a bit to reach inside the drawer of her nightstand. She pulled out her tablet, the light from the screen making you blink.

“What are you doing?” you asked, blinking.

“We might as well get something done, if we’re up,” she said, cradling your head in the crook of her elbow, so that she could manage the tablet and keep you close at the same time.

She opened a Google doc that she’d titled Birth Plan.

“Birth plan?” There was a series of questions and fill-in-the-blanks on there, as if Emily had copy-pasted it from another website. “I thought the plan was to have the baby. That’s the birth plan.”

She pinched at your stomach, and you giggled, squirming. “No, you dork. There’s more to it than that. And I’d rather us make the decisions now, so when you’re in labor, freaking out, we don’t miss anything.”

“I think you mean when you’re freaking out during labor.”

You watched her roll her eyes and smiled. You loved teasing Emily.

“Okay, well, regardless of who's freaking out, we need a plan. So just… lay your pretty head down and answer my questions, okay?”

You kissed the inside of her arm and nestled yourself comfortably against her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright, let’s see…” Emily said, brows furrowed, biting at the corner of her lip. Her thinking face. She meant business. “Full name and pronouns, I already know that. Partner’s name and pronouns… Due date, provider… I can fill all this out without you.”

“So then, the birth plan really is just have the baby?”

“No!” Emily insisted, scrolling. “Here. Here’s some you can answer. Have you ever… had group B strep?”

“No.”

“Been previously diagnosed with genital herpes?”

Your face went beet red. “Jesus, Em! No!”

She smirked. “I know, I just wanted to see you blush. Uh… do you have Rh incompatibility with the baby?”

“I don’t think so? I feel like Dr. Delgado would have mentioned it by now.”

“I’m putting no. Gestational diabetes?”

“No.”

“Fear of needles?”

“No, not really.”

“Have experienced–” Emily stopped suddenly, her voice stuck in her throat.

“Experienced what?” you prompted. When she didn’t answer, you poked her leg with your foot. “Emily, experienced what?”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled. “I can answer that one for you.”

“Well, now I want to know…”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Let’s just move on.”

“No, Em, I want to know!”

She sighed and bit at one of her nails. You furrowed your eyebrows and took her hand.

“Have you ever experienced birth trauma or prior sexual assault,” Emily read, her voice soft.

“Oh.”

You were both quiet for a moment, your thumb running over Emily’s knuckles. “Well, I guess you did know the answer for that one…” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “Let’s keep going.”

Emily shook her head a bit, as if clearing clouds. “Uh… delivery plan… I’m assuming vaginal?”

You nodded. “What are the other options?”

“C-section or water birth.”

You shivered. “Yeah, definitely vaginal. I think I’d cry if I had to give birth in a kiddie pool.”

Emily cracked a smile, and you were glad to see her getting back to herself. “Who do you want in the room with you?”

“You.”

“Well, yeah. Anyone else, though? Your mom?”

“Just you,” you confirmed, kissing her hand.

“Whatever you want,” Emily confirmed, continuing down the list. “Do you want any music played?”

“Screamo.”

Emily laughed. “Can you imagine?”

“Alright, I’ll settle for punk.”

“I’m putting TBD,” Emily decided. “Okay, this next part is a big, long checklist, so just say yes or no, I guess.”

“Okay,” you agreed. Your heart rate was almost back to normal, your breathing calm and even as you snuggled into Emily. You were starting to feel sleepy again, and were trying not to fight it, not to let yourself get scared again.

“Lights dimmed?” Emily asked, making her way down the list.

“Uh… I guess so?”

“Room as quiet as possible?”

“Minus the punk music, yes.”

Emily fought off a smile, running a hand absentmindedly through your hair. “As few interruptions as possible?”

“...Yes?”

“As few vaginal and cervical exams as possible? Yes.” Emily’s voice grew quiet again as she read this one, and you squeezed her hand to let her know you were okay. “Hospital staff limited to my doctors and nurses only? I’m putting yes for this one, too. I don’t want any fucking students in there watching.”

You yawned, closing your eyes as you pressed your cheek against Emily’s chest. You were having a harder and harder time staying awake.

“Do you want to wear your own clothes?”

“Yes,” you mumbled.

“Your glasses?”

You looked up at her, confused. “As opposed to what? Loaner glasses?”

Emily shrugged. “No glasses, I guess?”

“No. I can’t see shit without my glasses. The baby would just be a blob.”

“So yes to your glasses… Do you want me to take pictures?”

“Of me giving birth?!” you exclaimed. “No!”

“But you’ll look so beautiful!” Emily argued.

“I’ll look like a hot plate of shit,” you shot back. “In fact, I might actually shit myself during labor. I don’t want any photographic evidence of that, thank you.”

“Fine,” Emily grumbled. “Putting no. Would you like to stay hydrated with clear liquids and ice chips?”

“What kind of question is that?” you asked, fighting off another big yawn. “Of course I want to be hydrated.”

“Do you want to eat?”

“I don’t know. Depends on how long it takes, I guess.”

“There’s no box for maybe,” Emily observed.

“Make a box, then, Emily. Jesus. You work for the FBI.”

“Mean…” she mumbled.

“Sorry. I love you.” At this point, you were half-asleep, Emily’s voice far away, as if you were underwater.

“Do you want me to catch the baby?”

“Catch the baby? What are they tossing it?”

“No, like… as he’s born.”

“As she falls out of my vagina?!”

“...Yeah.”

“Not really. I want you up with me so I can squeeze your hand and yell at you.”

Emily was quiet, and you grabbed for her hand, blinking your eyes open.

“Unless it’s important to you,” you told her. “If that’s something you want to do, then by all means.”

“No…” Emily thought out loud. “But I think I’d like to cut the umbilical cord, if that’s okay with you?”

You nodded, getting comfy again, sleep infringing on the edges of your consciousness.

“Do you want him placed on your chest right away?” When you didn’t answer, Emily prompted you again. “Y/N?”

She looked down to find you conked out, snoring softly, your arm wrapped around her stomach, legs entwined with hers. She smiled softly at you and kissed the top of your head, sneaking her hand under the fabric of your shirt to rub your back.

“I’m putting yes,” she whispered, typing quickly then turning off the tablet and setting it gently on the nightstand, careful not to shift too much and wake you.

Emily adjusted the covers so that you’d be nice and warm. She wasn’t a praying person, but she hoped against hope that you’d sleep through the rest of the night. You had huge circles under your eyes from so many nights of restless sleep. Emily was used to running on little sleep, but you weren’t. And you were growing a baby. You needed more sleep than usual, and you weren’t getting it.

She pressed her lips to your head again and again, making sure you were secure in her arms. She couldn’t go into your head and fight off the nightmares for you, but she could make sure that if and when you woke up, you felt safe right away. She could make sure she was there, make sure that the moment you gasped awake, you felt Emily next to you–real and alive and warm and very, very here.

[sssilverstoned]

while you can still smell them ꩜ ln4

type: full length fic

word count: 3.9k

title from: i wish you roses by kali uchis

warnings: some fluff, angst, but like it's a happy ending. cursing bc i'm me, italics are memories

lily said: you know me i can never leave well enough alone. i thought this little snapshot of the break that was never really a break would be cute! for context, i'd suggest looking at the ig au linked below! this would be taking place in between part 2 and 3.

part 1

part 2

part 3

masterlist

You've only seen Lando cry on occasions that called for it. When family members died, when racing got too much for his mental, in some awful, awful moments. Maybe that's why it hurts so bad to see him cry now.

"A break feels a lot like you should add 'up' to that statement," he had said, turning away from you, looking out at the stars. You were sat on his balcony, feeling suffocated by the apartment. But the AC was on and working fine, and windows were open. Your emotions were suffocating you, that was more fitting.

"We can't keep on like this, Lan," you say in a broken voice, the lump in your throat thick and threatening. "It's not fair to either of us."

He doesn't realize he's crying until the drop hits his nose, making it quirk up in surprise. He swipes at his face, a pawlike move to get rid of the teardrops.

"Do you not love me anymore?"

His question makes you sob. Full body, head dropping to chest, your hands writing in your lap. The sound of you breaking down turns him back to you, rushing to the chair you've melted into. He lifts your face in his hands, and you take a breath when you see his face, discolored with tears.

"I'll always love you," he makes out of your words, just barely. "I, I just, it's not the same,"

"We can fix this, us. We can work on it together," Lando's brain is whirring at hyper speed, damage controlling the last 8 months of your lives together.

The cracks began to become schisms when he committed your largest pet peeve, which was ignoring things out of ease. Blissful ignorance, if you will.

It was small things, like forgetting about date nights in lieu of longer trainings or prolonging trips. Sometimes he forgot to water the plants, or didn't move laundry over, and that was manageable. That's what every couple encounters. What every couple does not encounter, was the intense pressure of racing a car for a living.

He was frustrated, with Zak, with anything papaya colored, and with his own self-doubts. He carried that frustration in his chest, and it came out in some of the words he spoke to you, and actions he took. You eventually stopped offering to come over and cook, because dinners were becoming continuously tense, and you were uncomfortable. Felt like a nuisance.

But at the same time, you were both so codependent. Without anything being said, you two began to avoid things you assumed the other wouldn't like, and asked for permission to do the smallest of things. You first noticed it when your sister pointed had asked you to come go with her out of town for the weekend, and you hesitated. "I'll have to ask Lando," you had told her. She bit her tongue.

Lando was just as bad, he had quite literally lost the ability to sleep when you weren't around. It made Grand Prix weekends an actual nightmare when you weren't there, calling you at any times in the day or night.

"Are you alright, it's 4am,"

"Sorry, can't sleep again. The melatonin does nothing,"

"Did you try the tea my mum got you?"

"Baby I just," he scrubs a hand down his exhausted face. "I just need you here."

"I can't just get up and go to Australia."

"I'll get you a flight, or maybe we can-"

"Lando," you say in a sterner voice. "I can't."

He's quiet for a moment, and you wonder what's going through his head. You hardly raised your voice or got intense, certainly never at him. But then again, recently, you seemed to never know what was going through his head.

It was silly to think that Lando was the same man that you began dating. You were 19, you would pray that he had changed somehow over the span of 5 years. But there was something missing that once was. The relationship was becoming more of a task, and that wasn't right. Which is what brought you to this moment, brought you to telling him you needed to talk.

"Lan," you whimper, bringing a hand up where his hold your face on either side. You don't even have to say anything more, he knows you better than you know yourself. And he begins to cry harder.

"I've never loved anyone but you, baby."

"I know."

"I can't, I really don't want to live without you," he shakes his head, standing back up to his full height. His hands stay busy, though, ripping through his hair.

"I'm not going to go away," you explain, agonized that you're calmer than he at this point. You stand from the wicker chair, but don't edge closer to him. "But my career is unpredictable right now, 6 months in Marbella is a long time. And you're, well, everywhere. And you need to focus on that."

"I've multitasked for 5 years," he says bitterly, making you sigh. His eyes are back on the stars, and his back to you makes your eyes blurry again.

"I'm not happy." You finally blurt, making his body stiffen. "I'm really not."

When he looks at you again, his expression reads clearly with fatigue, with anguish. "Please, baby, don't,"

It's your turn to clutch his face, bringing his forehead to touch with yours. Through your contact, you feel the heaves of his body, the breaths he's trying to control. "It's not forever," you whisper, mustering courage. "But we need to stop acting like everything's fine."

"I don't see myself without you."

"You're not," your hold tightens, he leans further into your palm, "but we've grown up together. The flower pot's too small now," you try to joke, he barely can fake amusement.

"I'll buy a thousand new pots."

"We need to clean up the broken one, first." His jaw clenches, you soothe it with your thumb. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He says back, almost silently. "Still wear that Mclaren shirt on race days, I need the luck."

You finally crack a smile. "I'll wear the hat too if my hairstyle permits."

He kisses you, almost convincing himself this if is the last fix he can get for a while, he needed it now. Not that either of you know it, but you both have the same thought. You both notice that your cheeks have each other's tears on them now, not sure which ones came from whom. You were on the same page in that regard, at least.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

"You should ask y/n out," your best friend says to Lando in the middle of a party. He chokes on his drink, not expecting her to come up to him like she did, and not expecting the words out her mouth.

You all were freshly 19, still congregating in someone's living room to try to have a good time. He knew your friends better than he knew you, the newest of the group in town, only having moved to the area with your family when you were 16.

"Should I, now?" He says, recovering from his fright.

"Yeah," she replies, ignoring the sarcasm. "She goes on about you, it's cute. She'd hurt me if she knew I told you, though. Not sure what she sees in you," his eyes narrow at the girl, which she ignores once again. "You'd be lucky to have a girl like her in your life."

That much, he knew. You were fiercely loyal to your friends and family, and treated him with a kindness that made him melt every time. You were funny, and genuine, and not to mention, the most beautiful person he's sure he knows.

When he bumps into you later at the party, he asks you what you're doing the following evening.

That was the story he'd tell people with a proud grin when they ask how you two got together. All you recount is how he nearly ruined your cute top with a shitty guinness.

He's struck with the memory when he sees the guinness logo in the ads on the walls of a restaurant. "Mate," Max all but snaps his fingers. Lando locks back in, humming for what he missed.

"Was just curious if you wanted to go out tonight. They've been texting in the chat about it, I saw you never responded."

Clubbing wasn't as fun as it used to be, not when you weren't dancing your heart out beside him, or waiting in bed with your nose in a book when he came home because you weren't feeling like going out. It felt like a waste of his time, and like he was sucking the fun out of other people's nights.

"'M alright," he says with a tight mouthed grin. "Gonna sit this one out."

Max looks at his friend, seeing through his response. "When's the last time you went out?"

If he had to take an educated guess, you last graced his apartment that night on the balcony, 4 weeks ago. So, 4 weeks ago. Perhaps longer, judging by the schisms. "A while. Not up to it."

"You're torturing yourself."

"I'm not interested in getting shitfaced, Max."

Max looks away for a second, quickly weighing the pros and cons of asking what he's been wanting to for the last, well, 4 weeks. "Do you think Y/n is wallowing too?"

The sound of your name makes his fingers twitch inadvertently, almost like a flinch. "That's not fair."

"I'm serious, Lando. You said she needed a break because she felt like you two were co-dependent and not actually working through problems, and look at you. You're not functioning without her. I mean, it's your fucking birthday next week, and you haven't brought it up once, you realize that, right?"

He knows he's right. Nothing he said was out of line, or wrong, and that's why Lando has nothing to say back. He wants to argue, to prove him wrong, but he can't. He's seen your ads and campaigns, the beautiful shots of you promoting luxury brands and names that your fans only dreamed of owning. Despite the distance, he was so proud of you still. You worked hard, were disciplined and humble through your success. He had texted you when the Dior campaign had launched, and the message of your thanks, with a smiley face, made him, for just a second, think that things were back to normal.

When they left the restaurant, and ran directly into fans, Lando tried to put on his best face for them, smiling for selfies and signing what was gestured toward him. When a sweet looking girl with glasses shyly spoke up, telling her favorite driver where she was visiting from, his tired eyes light up. "You're from there?" He confirms, and she smiles with an eager nod.

"Y/n is too," he almost mumbles, but every fan in earshot heard it. The typical squeals followed, the hushed whispers amonst themselves on if they'd push the questions they were itching to ask or not. And heard it they did, as the encounter made its way onto social media and gossip pages. But Max was right, his mourning period needed to be over, if anything was going to change for the better.

You call him on his birthday. It was nerve wracking, which made you bitterly laugh, because never did you think you'd be nervous to talk to Lando Norris of all people. One of the few people in the world you wholeheartedly trusted.

It had only been about a month since you requested time apart, and he had honored that. The texts were sparse, the calls nonexistent. Although, that was sort of what had brought you to this point anyway. But you were working on yourself, and your career at the same time, and things were looking better. Change never happened overnight, but the journal your therapist recommended, and the disappearance from social media besides professional posts were great starts.

You bite at your cuticle as the phone rings. You take your cell away from your ear, chest panging at the contact name "Lan <3" at the top of the screen. Was he really going to screen your call? Is that what you deserved, possibly?

"Y/n," he finally answers, and you quickly bring your phone back to your ear.

"Hi," you say awkwardly. "Happy birthday, Lando."

"Thank you," he says stiffly. "I'm happy to hear from you."

"Yeah I um, haven't really been on my phone here," you bite harder on your finger. "I think it's nice here, you'd love Marbella."

"I'm sure I would," he says with what you can hear is a smile. "I miss you, you know?"

"I miss you too," you concede, "how have you been?"

"Not great, I won't lie. Much rather would hear about you."

"'s not my birthday," and he smiles a bit at that.

"Well, racing's fine. But Max is sick of my shit, says I've been wallowing."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

You don't really know what to say, you've rarely been the perpetrator of his negative feelings. No relationship was perfect, but you all hadn't really hit a communication wall until now. It was uncharted, scary territory. "Well, I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, that was all. Have a good day, really. 24 is a big one. Kobe year, that's what someone said to me. I hope this year is great for you."

"Y/n, wait," he halts your beginnings to hang up. "I'd like to come to see you soon, I've got some time before Abu Dhabi and maybe I could swing by Spain on the way."

"Lando," he absolutely hates that you're calling him by his whole name. Lan, that's what would you called him almost exclusively. Lando feels so formal from you.

He needs to hear it, you know he does. He needs to hear that you want to see him, that you need to see him just as much as he yearns to put eyes on you once more. But you were constantly afraid of accidental manipulation, holding him by some invisbile garotte. But this was his first birthday you hadn't celebrated together since you were 19, that meant something.

"Please focus on racing," you implore, and squeeze your eyes shut before adding, "but you if you'd like to come and it won't be an issue in your plans, you're more than welcome."

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

You saw the posts, it wasn't very hard. Fans utterly disappointed that you and Lando hadn't been seen together in ages, putting pieces together quickly after you didn't post for his birthday. It didn't make you feel worse, to be truthful, and to your surprise. You were sure there'd be a barrage of insults hurled your way, maybe a cheating rumor or two. But really, all there was to see were requiems for your relationship, nostalgia for what once was. What did cause you to delete instagram from your phone, was the response to the podcast.

You were single for the time being, that's what you and Lando had agreed on when he visited you. It wasn't an invitation to go out and find the next man to lay in your bed, but you both had agreed that it wasn't healthy to hold out in anticipation of your rekindling.

"You're the only girl I've, you know," he awkwardly trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. He sits up in bed, linens pooling around his hips. Hooking up with your now ex-boyfriend, might've not been your brightest idea, sure, but you were both human, at the end of the day.

"Fucked?" you tease, remaining comfortable against your plush pillow. "I know. First few times kinda showed that."

He looks back at you pointedly. "You cried the first time."

"It hurt!"

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head in fake annoyance. You grin. "I'm sure the girlies are gonna have a field day with you being single now,"

He rolls his eyes again, laying, or rathing slumping, back into the pillow next to you. His arm instinctively comes around the top of your head, you try not to lean into it. "I think I really will finally listen to you and focus on racing."

You turn on your side, admiring his profile as he stares up at the ceiling, probably tangled in his thoughts. His nose sloped perfectly, the little freckles dotting his skin like constellations. Your boy.

"I told my mum."

He snorts. "She hates me now, I'm sure."

"Mm, no, her first ask was what I did," your mom was Lando's biggest fan, through and through. Of course, you were her daughter, but she was convinced he was cosmically made perfectly for you.

He looks at you then, realizing your eyes have been on him the whole time. He copies your position, turning to you so your bodies lay parallel, nowhere to look but each other's eyes.

"Do you regret that I'm the only boyfriend you've ever had?"

You immediately shake your head in denial of the question. "No, not at all," you were lucky, if anything. "You?"

"Well, I've had other girlfriends,"

"Ouch?"

"You knew that," he chuckles, and yeah, you did. "But I don't regret that you're the only one I've been serious about. I still am."

"I know. I am too."

"An ex-boyfriend doesn't lay in bed with you, you know."

"And an ex-girlfriend doesn't still remind your team when your doctor's appointments are,"

"Fair enough, guess we're just weird."

You share a matching grin. "So weird."

So once Alex uploaded the Call Her Daddy episode you were a guest on, and it was official to the masses that you had been single for now almost 4 months, the articles came in. The timelines of you and Lando's relationship, the rumors of him leaving clubs with random girls. You'd be lying if you said you didn't zoom in on some of their faces, relaxing when you recongized most of them as friends or even family members. He wasn't yours to be worried about, you suppose, but you also knew that any girl he decided to share his time with would be a lucky one.

Your friends had tried to get you on dates, that wasn't a lie when you said that on the podcast. But you weren't ever excited to get to know someone new, small talk was painful and you didn't feel comfortable going home with them.

But then, a few weeks later into February, you get a phone call from Lando. "Hi," You answer, pleasently surprised.

"Hey there," he says, sounding slightly out of breath. "How are you?"

"I'm good, great even. Finished up everything down here, leaving Marbella next week to head back home." Home was London to you, not Monaco. You constantly visited, had a family flat there and everything, but couldn't leave officially becuause of your career.

"Congratulations, everything looked stunning," he compliments, and your stomach flutters.

"But um, how are you? I'd ask if you were relaxing, but I'm sure training's well underway."

"Meh, more or less. I'm heading to Surrey next week, actually. Got some stuff to do at HQ."

"Oh," Surrey was only about an hour and a half from where you were in London. "Would you, well, not assuming anything, but if you'd have time to spare, it would be great to catch up?"

This isn't why Lando called you, you fully know this. Who knows what he picked up the phone for, he could be calling to let you know he's eloped with someone he's met in the 6 months you've been apart.

"I'd love to," you hear his grin in his voice. "You haven't moved, have you?"

Not only had you not moved, but you haven't changed much about your flat either. Same bedding, same color schemes, same photos decorating your tables and walls of your friends, family, and Lando. He never took the photos of you down either, and that photo from your 21st birthday was still stuffed in his wallet.

You order takeout, sitting across the kitchen island from each other acting like it didn't feel like your first date again. He acts like he doesn't want to reach out for your hands as you animatedly use them to share stories of Spain, and you act like you don't want to push the curls back that threathen to land over his eyebrows.

The food gets cold as you two catch up, a few glasses of wine becoming a whole bottle gone. You actually can't remember the last time the two of you had done this, and perhaps, absence had truly made your hearts grow fonder.

"Bahrain is on leap day," Lando says, making you gasp.

"That's got to be good luck, no?"

"It's just the first practice,"

"But still, you're starting your first weekend of the year on a special day like that," you muse, "so exciting. I'm excited for you,"

His chest warms at endearment in your voice. You truly and honestly rooted for him through everything, that was one of the things he was most grateful for about you. He knows you don't truly care about all of this, if he won or lost, but that you care about him and his development, how he sees himself and his profession. He fell in love with that about you.

"Would you come?"

You hesitate, daring to look at him from where you had begun to clean the countertop. "To the race? "

He nods, and turn back to the counter. "I don't know, Lan. Is that where we are?"

He hopes so. He's missed you something horrible, prays you missed him just as bad.

Lando takes the cloth from your hand, replacing it with his own. "I know it's only been about 6 months, and that's not enough time to say everything's well and dandy," you fight a smile. "But I want to work through things, with you. I've had nothing but time to consider what was off with us, and I want to be better. For you, more than anything. Yeah, I learned how to be just Lando. But I know I prefer being Lando and Y/n."

You bite your lip, finally meeting his eyes. "I want to take it slow."

"We can do that,"

"So, I don't know if I'm ready for the race. But, my birthday's coming up,"

"It is,"

"And we'll be in Dubai. My sister did it up, got this crazy plan going since it'll be my 25th."

"Quite the old woman you're becoming,"

"Oh get off that," you scoff, pushing his chest. He chuckles and pulls you back into him, where you go willingly. "But, if you can, I'd love for you to come to the dinner."

He raises an eyebrow with a smirk. "You want me to fly to Dubai just for your birthday dinner?"

"You'll be in Saudi Arabia then anyway,"

The smirk gets bigger. "You know my schedule already, love?"

"You're so fucking cheeky, can't stand it," you feign annoyance, but never move from his arms.

He holds you, as your arms delicately find themselves behind his neck, not daring to kiss just yet. To really be honest, you're not sure if you're ready to take that whole plunge.

"I'm happy to be back, even if things are slow. They can be molasses for all I care."

"Thank you for being patient with me," you lean your forehead against his. However, this time, neither of you are crying. Nice, for a change.

"I'd wait decades for you, my love."

After a beat of sweet silence. You speak up once more. "One thing though," he hums to prompt your continuance. "I'm pretty sure, when it's said, it's Y/n and Lando, just so you know."

[sombrashe]

Atonic

this is a repost because my original blog was deleted

relationship(s) Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader, John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader, John Price x Reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

content afab gender neutral reader, chubby reader, somnophilia, established relationship, consensual sex, drugged sex, consensual drugging, the drug is melatonin, aftercare, running a train, sleep paralysis

note(s) I woke up at 4 am and wrote this

Gaz was first, your half naked form was curled up before him.

You had personally given explicit permission to each of the boys that they were allowed to use your sleeping body however they wished; having taken a high dose melatonin to help you sleep through the night.

He was nervous, his partners had always been fully conscious before. But with Ghost on the other side of the door and you having told him to his face he was free to do as he wished he continued. His warm hand found itself on your thigh. Your arousal shining on them as he gently spread your legs. You didn't move an inch, your body relaxed and falling every way he moved it. He climbed onto the bed and freed his cock from its confinements. Your mouth was open and he thinks your eyes are as well but he can't tell. You're snoring and he takes a deep breath.

Sliding into you he has to restrain himself from immediately pounding into you. You were so warm, your body like a heater and when he concentrates he can feel your walls try to suck him in further. You still don't move as he slowly thrusts. When he's found a rhythm he notices the small twitches your nose and fingers do.

You still don't move even after he's slamming his hips into yours. The sounds of your wet cunt being used as the man above you looses himself. He's cumming into your tight heat with a whine. Your snores stop and you reposition yourself before they start up again. He's panting and placing dozens of kisses across you face while thanking you. You stayed out like a light. He fixed himself and smoothed the towel that was placed to catch anything that slipped out of you.

Walking out the door Soap emerged into the room with a grin on his face. You looked absolutely gorgeous. Gaz's seed slipping out of you while you snored peacefully. He places a kiss to your cheek and whispers his name and what he was about to do. You respond with a loud snore and he chuckles.

"Eager to please, even in their sleep."

He takes position, using the tip of his cock to bump against your clit until your eyebrows furrow. Once he has a reaction he's pushing slowly inside. You start to shift onto your stomach and he pulls out and away to let you. You're back to snoring and he's gently moving you back onto the towel. When you were in position he's holding your limp waist in one hand while the other is guiding his cock into your perfect cunt. He's groaning as he slips fully inside. He doesn't wait for you to adjust before he's pounding his hips against your ass. The rough snaps of his hips causes your ass to shake with every thrust. He's hunched over and listens as your snores become shaky. You flex your hand in your sleep and try to pull away. Something he's used to you doing as you approach your orgasm. He reaches around and rubs circles into your clit.

"C'mon sweetheart, make your pussy even wetter for me."

His voice is soft in your ear and even in your deep sleep you're oh so receptive to his words. You cum with a strangled whine, your face contorting before it's back to its restful nature. Your snore returning and you relax into his hold. He cums shortly after with a groan and pulls out to see your cunt push the extra semen out. He runs a hand across his face and has to force himself to pull away from you. He fixes himself to become presentable before exiting the room.

Price walks in and has to pause. You're spread out like a gorgeous meal all for him and he has to remember to be soft.

Simon explained to the other two that if he so much as sees a single bruise he'll make them wish they were never born. Since he was in earshot he knew the message was for him too but in a less direct way.

The door is closed with a click and Price is quietly moving you onto your back. He moves some hair out of your face and you lean into his touch. He contemplates continuing. He was more than happy to fuck you to completion. He always appreciated your praise when you were awake and more receptive. Just thinking about your soft voice and how eager you were to please the members of his task force had his cock hardening.

"Let's make this quick."

He climbs onto the bed and removes his cock just enough to be able to slide it in and out of your swollen walls. He slips in without resistance. The previous men having soaked you plenty. His hips are slow and calculated as he thrusts. You must be starting to wake up because the noises you're making are ones he's used to. Your shift in your sleep as your back arches. He's rubbing softly at the flesh on your hip and your lips are trying to form a smile in between your eyebrows furrowing. He watches intently at every change in the muscles on your face. Your mouth which was previously hanging wide open is now clenched as you approached your high.

He came before you, groaning as he fills you up. His hot seed unable to stick inside of you and slipping out as he continues to thrust to completion. He pulls out and fixes himself before running circles into your clit. Your breathing is becoming erratic and your eyes are opening with a cry as you orgasm. When you come down from your high you look confused. He watches with worry as you whimper and thrash below him. Your eyes look glassy and are darting as if you were still in a deep sleep.

"Simon?"

His worry has the man practically breaking down the door, "What's wrong Captain?"

"I don't know what's happening?"

Simon is on you in an instant. He cups your cheeks and slaps at you gently trying to break the glassiness.

"They're still asleep."

"But their eyes, are they okay?"

He points towards the door, "I need a spray bottle filled with ice water, it needs to have ice in it. Do you understand, sir?"

Price leaves the room in an instant and returns a few moments later with it. Not much has changed, your head is moving side to side and you seem to search for something with your eyes.

"They're going to hate me for this."

Droplets of cold water fell onto your face and you woke up with a start. The light from the table illuminated the terrified expression on your face. Your fingers twitching as you looked around. You were unable to move and your heart hammered in your chest. Tears dropped down your cheeks as you struggled to find something to touch.

"Hey, hey. Feel this, love."

Simon grabs the plush blanket that was tangled around your feet and slipped it under you fingers. You rubbed at the fabric and he watched as your panicked breathing started to relax.

Next was his hand. You used two fingers to pinch at his skin, he forced his face to mimic pain to show you he was real.

"You're okay, love. You're safe. I promise. It's just me and the captain here, no one else."

His voice is soft and his eyes never leave yours. You raise your chin as you start to gain motor function again.

Your voice is still missing. He moves on and gathers his shirt into your fist. You feel the soft fabric beneath your curious fingers and finally you're gasping. You quickly sit up and press yourself against the cool wood of the headboard. You rub harshly at your face.

You reach out a hand and grip at Price's bicep. Feeling the soft yet firm flesh. Next, was his shirt which felt rough beneath your fingers. Lastly, you ran your fingers through his beard, the prickly feeling helping cement the fact he was real.

"You're real." You confirmed and Simon nodded

"Good job love. You're safe."

He presses his lips to your forehead and now you finally realize your leaking out fluid. You look between your thighs before squeezing them together. You rest your cheek against your knees and look over to John with a sleepy smile having calmed down fully.

"Did you get a turn?"

He's a little confused at how calm you are now.

"I did kid, I did. You woke up and had this whole... episode after you came."

"Oh." You frown, "I'm sorry. You were probably worried. I don't remember anything from before Simon woke me up."

He nods still looking a little nervous.

"I'm not scared of you or anything, you didn't trigger this. It happens when I take too much of any sleeping drug."

He seems to relax at that and places a soft kiss to the top of your head, "If you're sure, I'll come double check with you when you're fully awake again."

With that he's exiting the room leaving you and Simon alone. You yawn loudly and languidly move your head towards Simon.

"Hi buttercup, you get a turn yet?"

Your voice is slurred with sleep. Your body slowly succumbing to the ache of sleep that still coursed through your veins.

"I think you've had enough for tonight."

You frown and reach for him. You try to fight off the melatonin that you took and force out the words you wanted to say.

"Si-mon... I... I want you... too."

You're struggling and his heart swells at how hard you're fighting sleep until he agrees.

"Plea... please."

Your starting to blink a lot and he helps you lay down, "No... need- need y-."

With that your blinks stop and you fall asleep. He sighs and runs his fingers through your hair. You were going to be the death of him. He reaches out a tender hand and rubs soft figure eights into your sensitive bundle of nerves. This jolts you awake.

"-ou, Simon."

He realizes you're continuing the conversation, your rude awakening causing you to tether on the edge of sleep and wakefulness.

"Oh."

It's all you say before you're falling back asleep. He pushes two fingers into your used cunt and he can feel the mixtures of slick and seed smearing across his fingers. You're moaning as you struggle to stay awake. The feeling has your eyes fluttering just as frequently as your walls.

"-imon."

You're saying words half cut off, you sentences cutting off.

"Feel so g-."

He's kissing at your face and using his thumb to catch the drool that fell down your cheek. He's scissoring his fingers in and out of you now, trying desperately to hold your hips. You've always been a squirmer and it's turned him on. The feeling of you trying to desperately pull away from the intense pleasure he filled you with stroked his ego. Even in your sleepy state you were strong. Your whine turned into moans which turned into a cry as you crash around his fingers. You eyes finding his face as you breathed heavily through your nose. You reached out your arms and he buried his head in your shoulder. His mask having been removed the moment Price closed the door. You were murmuring something to him and he had to pull away to hear you.

"Fuck me, please. Want you to fill me until I burst."

Your face was so soft and your eyes filled with love for the man before you. He always felt guilty looking into your eyes. His feelings of never being enough for someone like you always coming in swinging. He pushed these thought down and cupped your cheeks. The slick smearing against the softness of your skin.

"Going to fuck you so good, love. Leave you breathless and whining for me."

You bite your lip and you lift your hips as an offering. He groans and strips himself of his clothes. He lifts your shirt up and over your breasts. He could tell you were fully awake now, despite the tiredness that flowed through you. He reached out a hand and gently grasped as your breast as he pushed his cock inside of you. You let out a small moan at his actions. That lovesick smile gracing your features and he falls in love just a little bit more.

You were so good for him; the way you were willing to do anything to please him, how you helped the team every-time they needed you on and off the field, how no matter what he did while deployed that smile never wavered as you looked at him.

Even when he was covered in so much blood and you couldn't tell where the man started and the carnage ended, your smile never faded and your eyes never dimmed.

You were so soft with him, something he wasn't used to. So soft when you stitched him up, soft when you scolded him for doing something reckless, soft when you whined and called him name.

"Simon, I'm so close."

He was brought back to you and this moment. His thrusts rough and fast jolting you. Your hand was flat against the headboard as you tried to keep your head from smacking off it. He shifted and pulled you further down. Your hand now gripping at the pillow that was dragged with you.

He loved to watch you come undone. You always complained about your face, how you thought you looked silly. But to him it was the best sight in the world. Your teeth clenched and your eyebrows furrowed, he would think you were in pain if you weren't begging him for release. Your chorus' of yes' and pleases has him scrambling to help you over the edge. He needs to watch you mouth fall open and your body twitching as you squeezed around his cock

"Cum for me baby, need to feel you squirt around my cock."

With that you slack, your legs quivering as you orgasm. He gives a few more thrusts and he adds more cum to the mixture you've accumulated. Your panting as you look at him with blissed out eyes, your face hot. You call out his name and he says yours so softly you can feel your heart melting

"I'm thirsty."

He nods and kisses you softly. You happily return it and he throws on the pair of sweatpants that he discarded earlier. Walking out the door he returns a moment later with a cool washcloth and a glass of icy water. He hands the water to you and you sit up spreading your legs. You reach into the drawer beside you and pop the small pink pill into your mouth. You swallow it and continue sipping your water as you watch Simon. He was sitting cross legged in front of you gently wiping at your thighs. When you were finished with the water he tucked the washcloth between your lips and you feel your face get hot.

"What?"

"To keep any from spilling out as you walk to the toilets."

Oh.

He helps you to your feet and your legs give out. The tiredness and actions of four men using you have you struggling to walk. He wastes no time in scooping you up and walking out into the hallway. He had grabbed his discarded t-shirt and your underwear from the floor. Setting you down on the cool tile of the shared toilets he watches as you shuffle to one of the stalls. He waits patiently at the door giving you privacy as you clean yourself up. You emerge dressed and walking better as you wash your hands.

"I had fun, except for the whole sleep paralysis situation."

"Yeah, thought you haven't had an episode in years."

"That's the funny thing," you laughed and he was confused on what was so funny, "I haven't, I guess taking such strong melatonin threw my body off course and the orgasm ripped me out of my sleep to quickly. Leaving me in an atonic state of sleep."

You shake you head like it's the funniest thing in the world and throw away your paper towels.

"Crazy how the mind works, huh?"

Your analytics always fascinated him, he was never one to know the science behind why someone acted the way they did but you were always quick to analyze the situations.

"Atonic?"

You link your arm with his and you start walking back to your rooms.

"Yeah, I was sleeping while my mind was conscious with Captain Price. But on the other hand when you sprayed me with water I had sleep paralysis. That's what atonic is, atonia on the other hand is stuff like sleep walking."

You ramble on about the different stages of sleep as you slip the towel off the bed and fold it a few times to throw it in your shared hamper. You slip under the covers and yawn as you click off the light. Simon finds you and pulls you close to his body.

"You did so good tonight, love. Perfect for us."

You hummed in appreciation before drifting off to sleep.

[marrow-and-bone]

Fic: you don’t know how you got here (you just know you want out)

I wrote a fic for the @dtqkbigbang! What better way to inaugurate this Tumblr, yeah?

Title: you don’t know how you got here (you just know you want out) Rating: M Words: 16K Fandom: DSMP Ships: Quackity/Schlatt, Quackity/Wilbur, Quackity/Karl/Sapnap

Summary:

Like every other severed employee of DSMP Inc, Alex exists as two different people, who share the same body but know nothing about each other. Every morning when he goes to work, Alex becomes Quackity, and until now he’s been content to leave his other life a mystery.

But then late one night in a diner parking lot, Alex is confronted by a strange older man with mutton chop sideburns and alcohol on his breath, whom Alex can’t remember having met before but who clearly recognizes him, who calls him “Quackity” and tells him they’ve been lied to. And less than five minutes later, that man is lying dead on the ground.

Notes:

Mind the tags!!!!! This is a weird one!! Q is not having a great time!

I'm also planning to expand on it, so if you enjoy what's been posted so far, definitely keep an eye out for more. :3

Preview:

Alex needs to stop doing this. 

He’s gonna get a formal reprimand if he keeps missing his clock-in window at work — it’s the one part of his job description he’s really responsible for, and warnings keep turning up in his locker, polite anonymous form letters printed on plain white paper. And probably the worst that would ever happen is a ding to his end-of-year bonus, but Alex isn’t gonna risk it. He needs this job – this job in particular, with all its peculiarities, with all the ways it keeps him sane. He needs to be standing in the office elevator no later than nine fifteen tomorrow morning. He should already be in bed right now. 

Instead, he’s alone in a booth at McPuffy’s at one in the morning, nursing a bad-idea coffee with a notebook open in front of him, pretending like maybe he’ll work on his music if he stares at the blank page a little bit longer. He’s primed for a singer-songwriter era right now, after all — if being dumped by one fiance is great material, then two should be a goldmine. And maybe it would be, if he ever let himself think deeply about where he’s ended up — about the cold bed he’ll go home to tonight, or the empty apartment he’ll wake up in, or the rings that sit wrapped in a handkerchief at the bottom of his nightstand drawer. If he sat with how any or all of that felt, maybe he’d be the musician his mama always believed he could be.

But that’s not the choice he’s made, is it? That’s not the road he decided to take.

Funny, how people will judge you if you get blackout drunk every night as a way to cope…but if it’s your job that swallows your days, that strangles the part of you that feels much of anything at all, that’s fine. That’s capitalism, baby. That’s the system working as it should.

Alex doesn’t need to ask his waitress for the check. He gets the same thing every damn time, and he tips the same way — an empty coffee cup and a few crumbs of toast left on his plate, a ten dollar bill pinned under the salt shaker. There’s only one other customer, and he doesn’t look up as Alex takes his coat down from its hook. No one looks at Alex at all as he leaves, and he tells himself that’s how he likes it. 

He’s alone because he wants to be. He chose this for himself.

The night air is a shock — cold in a way that makes all the muscles of his back seize up. He’s already got his keys in hand, tucked into his coat pocket as he walks between pools of streetlight. 

Later, Alex won’t really remember what he was thinking about — probably hoping his car will start, or wondering if he should stop at the all-night pharmacy to buy more melatonin. He’s on auto-pilot, after all, normal thoughts for a normal night, variations on a bone-deep familiar theme.

Alex won’t remember what he was thinking, but he’ll remember the exact moment his night went off the rails; the pivot on which his life would turn.

Someone coughs, wet and painful-sounding and loud as a gunshot in the silent parking lot. There’s a rasp of gravel and asphalt under a heavy shoe.

Alex stops and turns toward the sound, his body humming with fresh adrenaline. He’s small and tired and alone. He calculates how long it would take him to reach his car; he slots his keys between his fingers, makeshift spikes on a fist he hopes he will not have to use.

A figure steps out from behind a pickup truck, stumbling forward into the light. A man, easily twice Alex’s size and at least a head taller – even stooped and shambling like this – leans heavily on the truck as he shuffles closer. He’s coatless and hatless, dressed only in a rumpled suit and a stained white cotton shirt, a cardinal necktie hanging loose around his neck, his dark hair and mutton chop sideburns heavily salted with gray. Even from here — at least ten feet away — Alex can smell that he’s been drinking. He reeks of whiskey and vomit.

Alex’s grip tightens on his keys. His voice is too high — too obviously scared — as he asks, “Can I help you with something?”

The man’s sharp bark of laughter dissolves into more coughing, and he wheezes as he catches his breath. There’s a smirking chuckle in his voice as he says, in a rough-throated rasp, “Jesus Christ, Quackity…you took your fucking time in there, you little shit.”

[smokescreenstuff]

Damn @1gn0re-th1s now I'm going to see how well I can write this. Smokescreen is not going to have fun.

Smokescreen decided it was a good time to take a drive. It was late at night, but everyone was still up. Nothing was going on, and Smokescreen doubted anything would happen. He had somehow managed to convince Ratchet to let him out of the base.

Smokescreen drove for a long time, he just kept going straight. He let his mind wander and quickly lost track of time and his surroundings. Only when he almost hit a tree, did he snap back to reality.

He must have been driving for an extremely long time and/or extremely fast to make it to a forest. He transforms into his bipedal mode and looks around. He's lost. He's about to contact Ratchet for a ground bridge when he hears something.

SM: Who's there?

No response.

SM: Come on, this isn't funny!

Again, silence.

Smokescreen starts panicking, it's dark, the forest feels smaller than it really is. He feels trapped, just like when he was in the escape pod. Smokescreen activates his weapons.

SM: Show yourself!

Nothing. Maybe he was just hearing things.

A sharp pain hits him in the back. He's being electrocuted. He hits the floor and falls into a forced recharge.

...

Smokescreen wakes up strapped down to a table. Wires and cables running from different parts of his body. A masked human dressed in black stands on a platform nearby.

??: Hello, Cybertronian.

SM: My name is Smokescreen! Now what do you want with me!?

??: We know how to make and power our own Cybertronians, now the next step is getting rid of the competition.

SM: What? Hold on, you're M.E.C.H., aren't you? Bulkhead told me about you guys.

??: That is correct.

SM: So what are you going to do?

??: We would kill you, but than we couldn't take control of your body. We could do what Silas did, but that's not very healthy. We could attempt mind control, but that's too much of a hassle. We could just get rid of your dead body by turning it to scrap, but that would take to long.

SM: So?

??: We're going to attempt something else. We want to see if we can turn a Cybertronian, human.

SM: What!? That's impossible!

??: We will see.

Suddenly Smokescreen starts feeling dizzy. The feeling quickly turns into a horrible helm ache. His entire body erupted in pain to the point where he wasn't even aware of anything else.

He felt his energy failing, he could feel every component inside him. It felt strange and unnatural. Smokescreen wasn't even sure if he was screaming or if his intake was just hanging open. All his senses felt like they were being overwhelmed at the same time.

He felt things changing, small at first, but quickly grew. The pain hightening to a point Smokescreen didn't believe was possible. All of his senses shut down at the same time. He felt like he was going to be deactivated, permanently. Smokescreen falls back into a forced recharge.

...

When Smokescreen next awoke he found himself laying on a cold metal floor. He attempted to push himself up, but he was too tired. A pipe lay not to far from him, he reached out to grab it only to stop half way. That wasn't his hand.

??: You're finally awake.

SM: Wha... What did... you do?

??: You're human now. We had no idea how you would look like in the end, but I quite like your new look. Not to mention your apparent albinoism has given me an idea of how to get rid of you.

Albinoism, Smokescreen knew that word. Raf had told him about it. They were looking at animals online when Smokescreen notices an unusually white tiger. Raf told him it was because the tiger had albinoism, a lack of melatonin. Raf said the tiger was in a zoo for its protection. Being that white made it hard to blend in, and more wanted by people wanting to buy illegal animals.

Smokescreen had thought it was absurd and silly. But now he feels like he's in the tiger's position. Trapped in a cage.

??: You're very quiet. That's unlike you. Are you thinking about something?

SM: Just about what you said.

Smokescreen was already regaining his strength.

SM: What did you mean when you said you had an idea for how to get rid of me?

??: I bet you'd sell for a good price on the black market. It would help us with our money shortage, just enough to get us started. I already have a buyer lined up, he'll be here shortly.

Smokescreen quickly reaches out and grabs the pipe, standing up as fast as he can, not caring how much his head protested.

SM: No way! That's sick!

??: Welcome to humanity, kid.

The man leaves Smokescreen alone. He starts banging the pipe against the iron bars. After some time a familiar figure stood close by. Bulkhead.

[the-s1lly-corner]

If you dont mind my asking... what does your sleeping cycle/schedule look like? What does your nightly routine look like? Do you also struggle with falling asleep or/and staying asleep?

Obligatory "idk if it's just my body responding to my poor sleep schedule and thus making it worse and making it a cycle" or "theres actually something going on and I've just been simply chalking it up to the first option"

If it matters I am diagnosed with anxiety as well as depression and I know that can have an effect on energy and sleep in general, not currently medicated

Nightly routine is basic; brush my teeth, wash up, vibe for a while before laying down. As of late I've been falling asleep around 8-9 but some nights I do fall asleep later/dont sleep at all

On worse nights where I can't sleep for long its generally like- sleeping for 2-4 hours and then I'm awake for anywhere between 12-16 hours before I start nodding off. The only thing atp keeping me from just going to bed is that I need to cook dinner for us (me + family). Generally no matter how hard I try prior I can't fall back asleep. Usually this repeats over and over the next week or so

THEN the opposite happens; I'll sleep for most the day and only wake up for short periods to do what's required. The last time this happened I was able to make note of how much I slept; roughly 21 hours in a 32 hour period, before I lost track at least.. the times where I was awake was kind of scattered about due to the aforementioned required stuff (feeding myself, bathroom, cooking for the house), similarly this cycle lasts for upwards of a week or more

I hate both of them equally, I always feel so exhausted regardless of which one I'm cycling through- on one hand I cant sleep no matter how tired I am, and on the other I can't stop sleeping and I dont ever actually feel rested

Sometimes I do get a night or two where I actually sleep for a reasonable period and feel rested but that only happens every month to every two months

I dont really use anything to sleep other than my fan (background noise as well as to keep cool since I prefer cooler rooms to sleep) as well as a weighted blanket (20 pounds!! Wow!! Annoying to toss to the corner of the bed when I'm not using it), as well as plushies/pillows to wrap my arms around since it feels weird to leave them empty

If anything my sleep has improved since I've gotten my weighted blanket but its tapered out since I've gotten it

I do sometimes take melatonin out of desperation if I cant fall asleep but it's like.. I want to say a 25-40% success rate for a 6mg gummy and a lower rate for the recommended 12mg on the bottle

Idk it kind of sucks but this isnt anything new for me it's just gotten more... annoying... since I've become the main person taking care of things irl at my house + working on personal projects to the side

[jlilycorbie]

Didn't See Any of This Coming

Late at night on Thursday, October 19, I drove myself to the emergency room. I fully expected to be treated and released, and after I saw triage just barely after midnight, it looked like exactly what would happen.

Instead, my entire life changed.

I went in for an abscess in an embarrassing location, which shouldn't have stopped me from seeking treatment earlier, but absolutely did. I figured they'd open and drain it, put me on some IV antibiotics, then send me on my way with a prescription for oral antibiotics. And for a while, that looked like exactly what would happen.

At least, until someone came into the room to ask me, "Are you diabetic?"

"Not as far as I know," I said.

"Did you know your blood sugar is 330?"

I've known for a long time things weren't great with my health, but I didn't see that one coming. Honestly, I was hoping whatever was wrong would kill me, preferably painlessly and in my sleep, within the next five to ten years.

That was already my first trip to the ER as an adult. What followed were a lot more firsts.

First IV.

First person who has seen my butt as an adult (a number that unfortunately kept climbing).

First CT scan.

First minor surgery (lidocaine is weak, I felt almost all of it).

First admission to a hospital.

First time taking insulin.

First major surgery under general anesthesia.

First time receiving fentanyl (or any opioid). After all the hype on the news, I thought that should be good, and instead it did absolutely nothing. Found out afterward that my dad and grandfather both got morphine a few times after surgery or in the ER for injuries and it did nothing for either of them. Just my luck to come up with chronic pain and a resistance to opioids.

I've suspected for a while that I have an autoimmune disorder, though I don't know which one. And a collagen disorder, probably EDS, but not sure which one. I've heard all the nightmare stories about fighting for diagnosis, so it was a little unsettling to mention autoimmune disorders and have every single medical professional say, "Yeah, that sounds right." Or to do my stupid human tricks (bending fingers and moving my trachea only, I never got far) and have people immediately go, "Yup, that's a collagen disorder."

Also, surprise! I have a heart murmur.

Shout out to my liver and kidneys, apparently the only organs in my body quietly doing their jobs without any drama.

The following days were frustrating. Everyone was eager to explain what diabetes is to me, but not what I needed to do. People kept mentioning that I had a sliding scale for my insulin, but no one would tell me what that meant. A diabetes educator would be coming to my room to explain it to me, so they didn't need to tell me anything.

After surgery, I never saw the surgeon again. No followup of any kind. Also absolutely no pain management. Before surgery, someone would occasionally offer me Tylenol. Afterward, I didn't even get that. It's apparently acceptable to leave a patient in so much pain she doesn't sleep for more than 36 hours, and after the 24 hour mark, you can offer melatonin.

Honestly, I don't think Tylenol would have helped, but a few throat lozenges would have made a huge difference in my world.

No one ever really explained or showed me how to care for the open wound left after surgery. The wound is located somewhere that is very difficult for me to see or reach, especially both at once. One person told me, "Just take a corner of gauze and poke, poke, poke it into the hole, but not too far, because you don't want to make the wound worse." When a nurse pointed out the difficulty of seeing the location, wound care sent a hand mirror smaller than my palm.

The doctor gave discharge orders, but the nurse at the time didn't want to let me go because the diabetes educator still hadn't come. I didn't know exactly when to take my blood sugar or insulin or how much to take. Because no one would tell me. So the nurse talked me into staying an extra night.

The doctor and several nurses also said someone with the hospital's social services would come talk to me about handling the bill and about getting a primary care physician because after 12 years without one, I can't keep not going to a doctor.

Neither the diabetes educator nor anyone from social services ever came to my room. I finally got a frustrated nurse to explain the sliding scale for insulin to me and when I should take my blood sugar and when I should take insulin. The next nurse diligently avoided me at all times until she announced I was getting discharged, better get ready. I stayed an extra night for literally no reason, for help that never came.

A pharmacist called me to tell me the doctor had ordered a glucometer and some other supplies for me, but my insurance had a really high copay on them, and she wanted me to know that I could buy them way cheaper on my own if I'd like to do that. When she found out that no one had explained most things to me, she was outraged. She spent a long time on the phone with me, explaining everything that she could. Bless that woman. I've told everyone who would listen her name and that she was so helpful when I was desperate and alone.

I got discharged just like that. I didn't get any written aftercare instructions from my surgery. I still don't know if I'm caring appropriately for my wound. I have a followup scheduled for three weeks after my discharge. I have since reached out, and people will apologize, but no one will give me the information I need.

I left the hospital terrified and confused. I'm used to figuring things out on my own, but the repeated promises of help that never came almost broke me completely.

I got two different types of insulin in reusable pens. No one had shown me that type of pen or how to use them. I had to figure it out by myself after I was home.

After I got home, someone from social services did call me. I had an appointment for the next day with a diabetes educator...who heard about me for the very first time after I was discharged, when social services called him and he immediately arranged an appointment for me.

Also, no one ever told social services they needed to talk to me about anything. They arranged an appointment with a primary care physician. It was written in my discharge paperwork, but no one told me.

The diabetes educator was actually pretty helpful. Turns out I'd gotten about half the information I needed about when and how to take my insulin. Since he gave me a different sliding scale and more instructions, I've actually kept my blood sugar consistently under 150, and mostly between 110 and 135.

I did tell him that the last time I saw a doctor, he dismissed all of my concerns to pressure me to join his high intensity weight loss program. At the time, I weighed around 300 lbs. I figured before I could get real help, I needed to wait until I was old enough, thin enough, or sick enough for people to take me seriously, and in the 12 years since then, I've done my best to take care of myself. When I arrived in the ER, I weighed 208 lbs. I was the sickest and most miserable I've ever been.

He told me he expects me to lose at least 20 lbs by the next time I see him.

[thelistingteammiami]

A Home With Natural Light: The Benefits of a Home With Sunlight During Winter

A Home With Natural Light: The Benefits of a Home With Sunlight During Winter | The Listing Team

In the winter, when days are shorter, you have to get all the sun you can get. It doesn’t matter where you live. Whether you’re in Miami or Tamarac, natural light is always a nice addition to any home. It can help lift spirits and the atmosphere during any dark day, but the house must be constructed to let light in. What happens when this perfect balance is met?

Brightening Your Mood

You might notice your mood change when you peel away the curtain in the morning from the bay window. Natural light encourages greater serotonin production, making people feel happier almost instantly. 

The sun’s warm hue gives any room a distinctly comforting feel, easing your mind and promoting relaxation. The warmth is also soothing.

2. Opening Up the Space

Brighter spaces feel larger because the sun plays delightful tricks on the mind. The light bounces off every corner of the room, highlighting your interior’s different colors and textures. Rooms can feel smaller if you overcrowd them with furniture and decorations, but even natural light will make them feel more spacious. You can see down long hallways without issue, making spaces feel less cramped. Consider how dim light shortens your field of view and blankets rooms in shadow. 

3. Making You Healthier

Natural light is like nature’s multivitamin. It improves numerous bodily functions in addition to mood-boosting for your mental health. 

Vitamin D

Sunlight is a wonderful source of vitamin D, which boosts your health in countless ways. It keeps teeth and bones strong, regulates calcium and phosphate and staves pesky colds.

Sleep Quality

Have you ever wondered why waking up gradually is easier if the room is well-lit? Morning light tells your body to stop making melatonin — the hormone that helps you fall asleep at night. Your eyes detect how the room progressively gets brighter, waking up the brain. Many alarm clocks attempt to simulate this effect because your circadian rhythm benefits.

Eye Health

Your eyes strain themselves to see things in low or artificial light. They work particularly hard to take in the blue light from computer and television screens. After a while, they hurt or feel dry. Natural light is much gentler, so you'll see more clearly if you rely on it as much as possible. 

Immune System

Bacteria have a hard time existing in sunlit environments. This means your exposure to health-compromising factors decreases the more time you spend in naturally lit rooms. Doctors have leveraged this knowledge to create an entire treatment type. Photoimmunology puts patients under ultraviolet light to increase resistance against illnesses.

4. Boosting Property Value

Sunlight has an inarguable aesthetic appeal that plays to any home seller’s advantage. Everything looks richer, including polished hardwood floors to joyful woven textiles throughout the home. Real estate agents and interior designers alike tell people to manipulate the light in their home to make it worth more on the market — even during the winter months.

5. Inspiring Productivity

If you work from home, test what it feels like to be in an office with closed curtains versus an open-floor-plan living room with massive windows. You’ll notice a difference because sunlight makes you feel more awake and motivated to be productive. When it’s dark outside, leisure mode kicks in, and you start feeling sleepy as your natural biology prepares you for sleep.

6. Saving Money Through Efficiency

Daylighting is a strategy recommended by the Environmental Protection Agency as a way to reduce energy bills. The more you let natural light into your home, the less you rely on electricity. In winter, focus on south-facing windows that will allow warmth during the sun’s peak hours.

Say Goodbye to Winter Woes

Allowing natural light into your home allows you to feel good no matter the season. Consider window treatments, sunrooms, skylights, or other ways you can soak up rays even in the mild, chilly winter months of southern Florida. 

[drgyana]

The Role of Sleep in Heart Health: Tips for Better Rest

Sleep plays a vital role in maintaining overall health, including the well-being of your heart. Often overlooked, a good night's rest is essential for reducing the risk of heart disease. Top cardiologists emphasize the importance of healthy sleep habits in managing heart health. Let’s explore the connection between sleep and heart health and learn tips for improving your sleep quality.

Why Sleep Matters for Your Heart

During sleep, your body undergoes processes that help regulate blood pressure, repair tissues, and restore energy levels. Poor sleep can disrupt these processes, leading to an increased risk of high blood pressure, obesity, and diabetes – all major contributors to heart disease.

Sleep also affects the balance of stress hormones, inflammation levels, and insulin sensitivity, making it a key factor in preventing cardiovascular problems. Chronic sleep deprivation, in particular, is linked to higher risks of heart attacks and irregular heart rhythms.

How Poor Sleep Affects the Heart

High Blood Pressure Sleep helps regulate blood pressure by allowing the heart to rest. Without adequate rest, your body experiences prolonged stress, keeping blood pressure elevated and straining the heart.

Increased Inflammation Inadequate sleep triggers inflammation, which can damage blood vessels and contribute to atherosclerosis (narrowing of the arteries).

Irregular Heart Rhythms Poor sleep quality is associated with arrhythmias, which can lead to serious complications if untreated.

Weight Gain Lack of sleep can lead to overeating and weight gain, which increases the strain on your heart.

Tips for Better Sleep

Improving your sleep habits is a practical and effective way to boost heart health. Here are some tips to help you rest better:

Stick to a Routine Go to bed and wake up at the same time every day, even on weekends. Consistency helps regulate your body’s internal clock.

Create a Comfortable Sleep Environment Ensure your bedroom is quiet, dark, and at a comfortable temperature. Use blackout curtains and a fan or white noise machine if needed.

Limit Screen Time Before Bed The blue light from phones, tablets, and computers can interfere with melatonin production, the hormone that regulates sleep. Try to avoid screens at least an hour before bedtime.

Watch Your Diet Avoid heavy meals, caffeine, and alcohol close to bedtime. Instead, opt for a light snack if you feel hungry.

Get Regular Exercise Physical activity can improve sleep quality, but avoid intense workouts close to bedtime as they may have the opposite effect.

Manage Stress Practice relaxation techniques like deep breathing, meditation, or gentle yoga to calm your mind before bed.

How Much Sleep Do You Need?

Adults typically need 7–9 hours of sleep per night. However, quality matters just as much as quantity. If you find yourself waking up frequently, feeling tired during the day, or struggling to fall asleep, these could be signs of underlying issues that require attention.

When to See a Specialist

If sleep problems persist, it’s a good idea to consult a healthcare provider. Top cardiologists often recommend sleep studies to diagnose conditions like sleep apnea, which can severely impact heart health. Treating sleep disorders not only improves rest but also reduces the strain on your heart.

The Link Between Sleep Apnea and Heart Health

Sleep apnea is a common condition where breathing repeatedly stops and starts during sleep. This disrupts oxygen flow, increasing the risk of high blood pressure, stroke, and heart failure. Recognizing and treating sleep apnea is crucial for protecting your heart.

Final Thoughts

Taking care of your sleep is as important as eating well and exercising when it comes to heart health. By adopting healthy sleep habits and addressing any sleep-related issues, you can reduce your risk of heart disease and improve overall well-being. If you’re experiencing persistent sleep difficulties, consult a top cardiologist for personalized guidance and support.

[dreamgodjpg-blog]

NooCube Sleep Upgrade Review - Get the Best Sleep 😴 of Your Life with  NooCube Sleep Upgrade

Are you tired of tossing and turning all night, having trouble falling asleep, and waking up the next day feeling tired and unproductive? If so, don't feel bad. Millions of people around the world have trouble sleeping, which can hurt their physical and mental health in a big way. But what if I told you there was a way to get the best sleep you've ever had? The newest supplement, NooCube Sleep Upgrade, is made to help you get a deep, restful night's sleep.

NooCube Sleep Upgrade is different from other sleep aids on the market because it uses natural ingredients to help you sleep well. Its powerful formula goes after the root causes of not being able to sleep, like stress and anxiety, and makes you feel calm and relaxed. This makes it easier to get to sleep and stay asleep all night long. Plus, it helps you sleep better and wake up feeling rested and full of energy.

So, what is NooCube Sleep Upgrade, and how does it work? Let's look more closely at the main parts:

LEMON BALM LEAF POWDER

This herb from the mint family has been used to calm people for a long time. During a stress test in the lab, lemon balm "significantly increased" how calm people felt. In another study, people with anxiety and trouble sleeping slept 42% better after taking lemon balm.

LAVENDER

Lavender is related to lemon balm, and like lemon balm, it is known for making people feel calm. This is because lavender affects the same part of the brain as many prescription sedatives, but in a natural, gentler way that doesn't lead to addiction. Studies show that lavender can help people who are restless or can't sleep well.

VITAMIN D3

Low levels of vitamin D are linked to poor sleep and not getting enough sleep. Vitamin D controls circadian rhythms and makes more of the "sleepy hormone" melatonin. Most vitamin D comes from sheep wool grease, but we get ours from algae, which is a better way to get it.

MAGNESIUM

This mineral has a calming effect by stopping brain signals that are going too fast. Magnesium makes it easier to fall asleep, helps you sleep longer, and makes the sleep you get better. The best form of magnesium is magnesium citrate, which is easy for the body to absorb.

CALCIUM

A glass of warm milk is often used to help people sleep at home, but why? A study of 4,548 people showed that getting more calcium helped people fall asleep faster. The same study found that insomnia was more common in people who didn't get enough calcium every day.

But does NooCube Sleep Upgrade really work? After putting the supplement to the test for a few weeks, we can say with confidence that it does what it says it will do. The quality of our sleep got much better, with less tossing and turning and more restful, deep sleep. Plus, when we woke up, we felt more energized and ready to take on the day.

One thing to keep in mind is that NooCube Sleep Upgrade does take some time to work. We didn't notice any big changes until we'd used it for about a week. But once it worked, it was clear that it did what it was supposed to do.

Overall, NooCube Sleep Upgrade is a great choice for anyone who has trouble sleeping. Its natural ingredients, lack of harmful side effects, and ability to help people sleep better and wake up feeling refreshed and energized make it a great choice for anyone who wants to improve their sleep and feel better when they wake up. Try it and see for yourself. You won't be let down.

[unknownusernumber13]

Writing Project: 01 Wednesday - Write a 500-word story titled Serotonin

This is my first time posting something I've written. It isn't perfect, I'm still learning! I've never been the best at spelling, so please forgive any typos. Please let me know what you think, how can I improve?

I hope you enjoy <3

Serotonin

My mother takes melatonin to help her sleep at night.

I don't remember taking it myself when I was a child.

When I was little, I used to have nightmares about monsters getting me. The one's that every child fears is waiting under the bed, or watching from the closet. The one's that lurk in the dark, in every space you can't see well in.

So, I slept with a nightlight. An easy, simple, perfect solution. The small little light kept the monsters in their place. my mind no longer raced with thoughts of fear, I could sleep.

That's how life worked back then. You used cheap coloring books and dollar store crayons to create a masterpiece. You walked in the backyard and had mystical adventures in magic forests. Plastic kitchens could make the best tasting cookies. The joy of a child can be found in weeds and twigs, the royal flowers and fairy wands that can be seen beside any overgrown sidewalk.

I didn't need melatonin to sleep.

But then I grew up.

At some point, I stopped being able to find enchanted trees in the backyard. I couldn't remember the steps to true professional dance steps that most certainly weren't made up. Going outside became a chore. Cooking was no longer an exciting mystery, you always knew what was coming out of the oven.

I started seeing things for what they were. A book was just a bunch of paper with words printed on it. A cup was something to drink your coffee out of. A car was a machine that took you from one place to the other.

Things started to become simplified, boring.

But life also stopped being easy, simple, and perfect.

You couldn't find joy seeing the weeds bloom, it just meant more weeds. You still pick up the twigs in the yard, but only to throw them out of the way two seconds later. You took walks in the afternoon, but only because your doctor said you should. You laugh with friends and joke about childhood experiences, but your smile is just for show.

I couldn't be happy just coloring anymore. I started caring about my clothes getting dirty. My shoes needed arch support. The little stars that once shined in my eyes, fell to my cheeks, and were washed off with overpriced skincare.

The nightlight, the mighty force that once fought every dark creature that dared come near me, became a nightlight. The monsters become hung up clothes, and tucked away storage.

I stopped being able to sleep at night. My thoughts never stop, they run until they see the sunrise.

I started taking melatonin. You take a pill every night shortly before bed. You start to feel more sleepy, and then you usually sleep through the night. If it stops being as effective, you can up the dosage. If the increased dosage also starts to stop working, discontinue taking it for a period of time. You can start taking it once you've given your body a break.

Melatonin is actually easily accessible, much like the happiness I once found as a child. The only difference being you must pay a predetermined price.

I wish the same could be said for Serotonin.

[iambilliejeanok]

🌼Baby boyfriend🌼

🍄Fluff Monday 🍄

Purely fluff🌈

Pairings: Kakashi x reader

🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️🧚🏾‍♀️

Hearing the door shut, you looked up from the couch to see your boyfriend step in the house, his clothes all dirty and his face wearing a weary expression as he slowly slid his mask off, slumping back against the wall in exhaustion. As quick as could be, you stood in front of him your arms wrapping around his slender torso to embrace him in a long and warm hug. Lazily, his arm came around you, pulling you closer with all the strength he had, pressing a small and quick kiss to your cheek. Looking up at him, you wore the cutest pout on your face, “You wanna come and nap with me? I’m sure you’ll feel better once you wake up. And we could catch up on other stuff later in the night”, you spoke while casually stripping him, taking off his flak jacket followed by his hitai-ate and mask, dropping them in a pile next to his shoes. You couldn’t help the smile that crept up on you at the small nod he made to your suggestion. “Poor baby, come”, you said, taking his larger hand in your smaller one and leading him straight to the bathroom. With his eyes closed he leaned against the counter, breathing in the soft mango scent of the melatonin bubble bath. While the tub was still running, you turned on a few candles the two of found together and instantly fell in love with, placing one on each corner, already excited for the evening. Cuddles were always amazing with the hubby. Closing the tap, you looked over to him, giggling when you noticed his droopy eyes staring right at the perfect view of your ass. “Oi sleepy head”, you giggled, walking over to him to wrap your arms around his neck, his own arms instinctively wrapping around your waist, running his hand up and down your back while you both made eye contact. “You’re too tired”, you teased, planting a soft kiss on his lips for the first time this evening. His lips immediately hungered for yours, his hand coming to rest at the back of your head and keep you in place as he deepened the kiss, running his tongue along your lips before you started pushing against his chest to get him to stop. You weren’t expecting the kiss to grow so intense, panting as you both got lost in each other’s eyes once again. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up baby”, you breathed, licking your plump lips as your hands set to work. Small kisses fell all over his body while you slowly undressed him, savoring this peaceful moment between the two of you. No work, no teenagers, no stinky puppies. Just the two of you, enjoying each other’s presence.

Kakashi shut his eyes, taking in deep breaths at the soft and warm kisses you planted across his naked body, little tingles shooting along his spine every time the rough skin of your hands met the skin on his body. Finally coming back up, you had to a take a deep breath at the sight of his naked body. Sure you’ve seen him butt naked more times than you could count, but there was just something so special about seeing him like this. No mask, all his feelings on display, his dick hard, completely vulnerable, to no one else but you. You felt chosen. “The water is ready”, you whispered in his ear, his eyes slowly fluttering open from the kiss you placed on his lips. “Hmmm. Let’s go”, he said walking over and settling in, reaching out for you to join him. “Baby, I already had a bath”, you pouted, absolutely hating the decision you made to bathe earlier on, but also glad that you could use this opportunity to spoil him. “But I want you in here with me! I wanna cuddle”, he whined in his deep voice, the begging tugging at your heart. “Here baby, just relax and I’ll take care of you”, you said, reaching for the loofah and a bar of raw butter soap, lathering up the loofah before gently rubbing down Kakashi’s chest, scrubbing away the dirt from the day. Working the loofah all over his body, a deep sigh he let out distracted you, and you smiled when you looked up to see his eyes shut. You were really happy he was just relaxing in this moment.

After going over his body once again with a sponge and some raw sugar scrub, you slowly started kissing his face again, waking him up from the delicious trans you put him under. “Babyyyy…”, you whispered. “Wakey wakey”. “Mmmm”, he moaned, slowly opening his eyes to your soft kisses. “Lets get you in bed love”, you spoke, making sure you weren’t too loud to pull him out of his relaxed mood. It really took a lot for Kakashi to relax and you would kill yourself if you ruined it right now. “Nooo”, he whined, the out of character whining making you giggle a little. “Baby, you can’t stay in here, you’re getting all pruny”. “Please baby…just stay with me for a little longer”, he fussed. “I’m not going anywhere goofy. I just need to get you out of this tub”, you laughed. “Oh”, was all he said, huffing in disapproval for having to move his body. Helping him stand up, you wrapped him in a fresh towel, leaving him to wipe himself down while you went to fetch some clean slippers for him. When you came back you found him still standing on the exact same position you left him in, a little glint of mischief in his eyes. “Kakashi you’re still wet?”, you spoke, placing the slippers down so he could step into them. “I thought you were going to wipe me down?”, he asked, his face wearing the normal casual look he always had, expect this time you could see him pout a little. “Kashi you couldn’t just do it yourself?”, you asked in disbelief. “No. I couldn’t”, was all he said, unwrapping himself to hand you the towel. “Omg what a fucking baby”, you mused, taking the towel from his hand so you could start patting him dry, paying extra attention to his private area and toes. “Your baby”, he randomly grumbled, while you tossed it in the laundry basket and handed him a robe.

Finally laying in bed Kakashi was dressed in nothing but a pair of puppy printed boxers, while you had on a sweater and a pair of grey undies. You couldn’t believe the whining you heard from the bathroom as you finished cleaning up, coming out to see Kakashi just laying there on the bed, his arms and legs sprawled out like he was dying. “Y/n! Hurryyyyy”, he called, not realizing you stood right in the bathroom doorway. You know you could be a big baby but he was superior at this. “Princessssss!”, he called again “Come quic-“, he called before you cut him off. “I’m right here love”, you laughed, watching him turn his head in the slightest to see you standing there. “Oh okay”, he softly said, “Come to me”. Walking over to him you began talking, “Kashi just rest a little and I’ll be right over to cuddle okay”, “But you know I can’t fall asleep if it’s not in your arms”, he said, pulling you closer to him, man even if he was tired he was still strong. “What nonsense is that Kashi, you always sleep just fine without me ho-”, you started to say but he simply hushed you with a single finger on your lips, a short moment before you both burst out in laughter. Kakashi pulling you into him and rolling on top of you so you were trapped, his face nuzzling your bosom and hand holding yours as he began to relax a little more. You sighed in defeat, running your fingers in his hair which you knew would take him out. Hearing him mumble stopped your hand in his hair, making him whine out in frustration. “Kashi I can’t hear you if your face is buried in my chest. “Okay fine, please take off your sweater. It’s too much for me”, he complained, tugging on it like he had not a single bitty bit of strength to even fathom the fact that you wore this skin barrier. Rolling your eyes you did as he asked, “of course baby, there you go”, you said, your upper body now completely bare. Slowly he started nipping and sucking on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair and before long, you could hear him softly breathing, his kisses having stopped a long time ago, but those left you a little sleepy too. Yawning, you looked down at him nuzzled between your breasts, smiling at how cute he was tonight. He was your boyfriend and you’d spoil him with as much attention and affection as possible.

[wh0rephobic]

William with an fem s/o that has a hard time sleeping and needs to be tired out?

drooling

it starts with you tossing and turning so much that you’re shaking the bed and keeping william awake. after a while it gets annoying so he just rolls over to look at you.

“something wrong, dear?”

you grunt, “i can’t sleep.”

“do you want me to get you some melatonin?” he’s so sweet.

but unfortunately you’re just in a bad mood. “no! i’ve been taking those, i just haven’t gotten a full night of sleep in a few days and i’m getting frustrated.”

“oh, i’m sorry bunny,” he listens, “… i do know a few ways i could tire you out, though,”

with a giggle, you let william slip underneath the sheets, settling between your legs and taking your panties down your legs before diving in.

if his job is to tire you out, then he will. william never leaves a job unfinished. he’d start by kissing up and down your thighs, sinking his teeth down to chew on the plush skin as he works you up.

once he can see your home begin to glisten, he begins his hypnotic ministrations on your body.

with two fingers slipping into your hole to stroke your g-spot, his mouth attaches to your clit. with every lick and suck he just draws more wetness out of your hole, making it easier for your fingers to slide around inside of you.

your eyes are already fluttering shut in the threat of falling asleep mid-session, but you hold them open, rocking your head back and forth as your hips buck into william. the knot begins to grow. william can tell in the way your waist begins to coil up, preparing to snap and your moans become whinier above him. your eyes are rolling back. you squirt.

now if that isn’t enough to make you absolutely faint upon impact, william doesn’t stop. you wake up only a second later from the feeling of william continuing to lap at your overstimulated hole. he can feel you clamp down on his tongue, trying to keep him out as you wriggle your hips. you’ve underestimated william’s strength, though, left to lay there and take it when he forces your hips to the mattress to keep you still.

you asked him to tire you out, he will.

[zukuist]

sleep coordinates [hcs]

“how they sleep at night, and also how they sleep with you in their arms”

fandom/s: 僕のヘロアカデミア // boku no hero academia (bnha)

includes: h. shinsō, e. kirishima, k. bakugō

your name is shortened to y/n, gender neutral!

note: school has been a bitch to me sooo.. here’s my “im sorry for not posting for 9 days” gift, i’ll try posting again tomorrow!

—

shinsō hitoshi

man has tried everything to get at least 6 hours of sleep. his sleep schedule is not consistent

asmr, exercising to the point that he’d drop out of exhaustion, a humidifier, even the melatonin gummies stopped working on him after a while

i mean.. considering the pretty dark circles he has, and the tired look he’s always wearing

anyone could take an accurate guess on how much he’s actually sleeping per night.

so when you both finally got together after some pining, you were determined to make him sleep like a lil baby

which works (surprise!) turns out he finds it really comforting to be holding something while he slept even though he refuses to buy a body pillow

hitoshi usually sleeps in some regular pajama pants with cat prints, and a sweater/tank top

you were the first one to find out that he had such cute pajama pants!

hitoshi at first, sleeps lightly.

but when hitoshi sleep sleeps, he sleeps hard. like.. not even bakugō’s explosions could wake him up, especially when he finds himself having a decent sleep

he’s usually the big spoon, like i said, he finds it comforting to just hold something or someone

he doesn’t mind being the small spoon, but the idea of you cuddling him like thay makes him all shy and it’s cute to see

aside from spooning, another position he really likes is you on top on him.

like.. he could be sleeping with his back on the bed, sort of like how soldiers sleep, and you could be crushing him with your body weight

and he wouldn’t care. he finds it very cute just seeing you slightly move up and down because of his breathing (please i hope this makes sense)

hitoshi’s a tough one when it comes to adjusting his sleep schedule, but after some time, he has grown to appreciate your effort

despite hating it at first, because you forced him to sleep before 2am

kirishima eijirō

sleeps well after 8, but nothing after 1 am. he sleeps pretty decent

but..

he moves a lot in his sleep!

sleeps like he’s an animal hibernating, but moves around like a shark.

changes positions every 5 minutes, and he’s not conscious to notice it himself until you recorded an hour time lapse of him just.. changing sleeping positions

he’s probably aware just a bit that he shifts a lot in his sleep but.. not the very extent of how much he thrashes around in his sleep

usually sleeps with a plain white t-shirt with some sweatpants, or if it’s hot, he’ll ditch the shirt entirely

he doesn’t mind sleeping shirtless! i mean.. have you seen his hero costume? man’s shirtless!

he’s prefers to be the big spoon, he just can’t help himself!

but when you wake up, you’re the big spoon. and eijirō’s nearly hanging onto the bed

that’s why, it’s quite chaotic to be sleeping in the same bed as him, and what in a sleepover with the bakusquad?

bakugō woke up in the middle of the night to roll him on the floor because kirishima stuck his feet in his face while he was sleeping

another position he really enjoys is you facing him, and him having your face directly onto his chest.

because it’s the only position that keeps you in his arms the entire night.

he was quite hesitant at first, because he was afraid that hugging you tightly would activate his quirk somehow, but you said that it wouldn’t

and.. you don’t really mind waking up with your face in his chest. the thought itself isn’t terrible.

bakugō katsuki

goes to bed around 9:30 and wakes up just a little bit before 8:30. i don’t make the rules

actually.. he’ll make some exceptions for the 9:30 rule occasionally.

like the time he was still secretly pining on you, and it came to the point that he ended up staying up until 11pm just.. thinking!

but you’ll never catch him being up at 2am, nope. those are the dark hours of the night.

compared to the other two, he sleeps quite moderately. of course, the smallest movements won’t wake him up.

but if you like.. wring him out of the bed, he’ll definitely wake up

i feel like after kamino, he experienced nightmares at least bi-monthly. they used to be so aggressive, but after he started sharing the same bed as you

it has gotten better. he won’t thank you out loud, but he’ll definitely thank you in a different way.

sleeps in a tank top, and some sweatpants or some shorts and not the really short ones.

but he likes to tease you whenever he finds you gawking at him whenever he takes off his shirt, so he’ll mess with you by sleeping shirtless

just because he can ✨

regarding on who’s the big spoon and who’s the small spoon, he’ll opt to being the big spoon

but once he starts feeling vunerable, he’ll allow you to be the bigger spoon, despite his protests and complains.

another position he doesn’t mind is being buried in your chest, as your hand is tangled with his.

no, it’s nowhere near being explicit, he just finds himself listening to you breathe at the dead of the night.

in short, ugh </3

—

© zukuist 2021, bnha|mha belongs to horikoshi kohei, do not steal my work ❕