#now I’m ALREADY awake at 5am

[lawstrugglesbt]

Many study bloggers and alpha mentality students wake up at ungodly hours to study, workout or meditate and get ready for 😤🤘the grind🤘😤

I also wake up at an ungodly hour. 5 am to be precise and I wish I could tell you that I am in any way productive in the morning but the only reason im awake at that time is so I can scroll on my phone in my warm blankets while drinking coffee for an hour to slowly wake up and have some time for myself🦧

I love my internship I’ve already learned so much there and I was able to experience so many interesting things but by the time im home from work I barely make it until 9pm before I go to sleep absolutely exhausted. The second I get home im cooking food, I clean the house a bit and try to do something relaxing but mostly I just try to stay awake for a bit so I can fall asleep at a reasonable hour💀 waking up at 5am instead of 6am gives me one hour just for myself and my needs and it’s my favourite part of the day

[nemesyaaa]

rafe cameron x sleepy!reader

summary : you were just the sleepiest girl of the town. (kinda sweet smutty prompt / etablished relationship. soft! boyfriend!rafe.)

warnings : except smut, nothing much. bad sleeping shedule.

author's note : /.

“ I’m fucking tired.” you yawned as you entered the room. since the beginning of the evening, you had only been looking forward to getting back to the soft comfort of your bed.

you couldn't help but become sleepy, which meant letting your boyfriend take care of you because you were unable to stay awake. you never needed to be careful because rafe cameron always had his eyes on you. and as long as you were next to him, as long as he could feel you even if you were dead asleep and drooling over his chest, he allowed you to take a nap on his lap for hours. it was one of your few privileges.

something he didn't allow was people waking you up. if it he had to shut down every fucking noisy kook in a room to let you sleep, he would do it. it was his own version of let me burn the world for you but in a better way, more like let me quit this entire world for you.

you loved these moments of calm and peace when you slept wearing only one of his t-shirts acting like a dress around your naked body, and white high socks.

rafe was spooning you while you were already falling asleep, the reassuring and warm feeling of his cold fingers slipping under your t-shirt, his large hands covering the flesh of your waist , letting his strong arms gently slowly pulling you towards him. the shushing sound of his lips hovering your neck as you were dragged by his thick fingers. your barely covered body lazily comes closer, as soft breaths break the silence of your mouth, quickly followed by the sleepy whines of your tall boyfriend that holds his grip tighter in your hips, making sure you can't go anywhere, even if you were in a deep sleep.

you had a complicated relationship with your sleep schedule because you were sleeping both too much and not enough at the same. you could be fully awake at 5am but literally dead asleep at 12pm. for the simple reason that you were not sleeping at the right time, nor at the right hour, nor in the right place. you were one of those sleepiest girls who would disappear for hours not because you were going out on the town with friends or even stepping foot outside, but because you would sleep for hours on end.

you told rafe that you were just closing your eyes to take a nap but you ended up waking up in the evening.

when you woke up, you were completely lost and disorganized but above all so tired. it was almost ridiculous. your boyfriend was now used to your eyes half-closed, your hair completely messed up and across your exhausted face, drool on the corner of your lip with that oh-so-stupid expression.

he lay down on the bed, while you looked at him with wide opened eyes. at this point, you weren't even sure you recognized your own boyfriend. “ rafe ? ”

“still asleep, babe? "

his voice was usually low, while he brushed away the trail of drool that was leaking from your mouth with his thumb. you nodded, and he smiled. “ such a baby. ”

you were a terrible temptation. he could have fucked you while you were sleeping. and maybe that was even what you wanted sometimes when you slept so scantily dressed, leaving your tiny thong in full view while you lay on your back, legs unconsciously spread.

“let me help you…” he whispered as he flipped you onto the bed, pushing your thighs apart to make himself a place. he had pulled down his boxers without removing them completely, before forcing your legs open with one hand. "fucking wet. i bet you dreamed about that dick inside you."

the smirk on his face was pretty charming and sick, and he pushed the fat tip of his cock against your soaked slit, before making morning slaps on your little glistening cunt. his length was so hard, hitting your sensitive bud. the plushy mushroom getting glossy from your weeping hole. he looked at you, holding his dick in a hand with your wetness dripping from the shaft, as you had a hard times focusing on his movements but he squeezed your cheeks on his hands, pulling your face closer to him. “ get that mouth open, want to be able to spit on it whenever i want. ”

it was also a pretty excuse for him to force you to keep your eyes open. when he first pushed in with a hard thrust that literally arched all your body, you screamed out of pleasure and pain. he didn't wait before starting working his dick faster in your swollen cunt. you always take him so good, and he can't help but pound you even deeper every time he hears your sleepily voice moaning softly, the whining getting louder and bigger as he stretches you open. you were too good, a forbidden pleasure for sure, your sloppy pussy fully soaked him.

little by little, you begin to be fully awake, eyes filled with shining tears. you were a mess that was crying and panting from the roughness of your boyfriend, crybaby whines begging for rafe’s attention. your mouth getting muffled by his, he shushed you through the kiss, heavy breath and drool falling between your lips. “ s-s-slow down ! ” you cried out.

he mocked you gently, answering with a wicked smile. “ what about faster ? thought that's what you wanted ? ”he was still fucking you, but now a hand reached your throat, as the thickness of his length stuffed the inside of your walls, hitting all the spots. “ r-rafe. ” you exploded.

you were shaking, gasping for air and throbbing, eyes still locked in rafe's gaze while you lost your mind, thinking of how deep he was inside you. your cunt still twitching around his cock, making you unable to catch your breath and literally choking against the hand pressed on your throat. you were already tired, the inner of your thighs dripping with arousal and legs breaking with each thrusts. and those massive orgasms didn't help. his face was now sweaty from the heat and the sex, hot breaths escaping his lips and absolutely no sign of exhaustion. he could fuck you to death. and you wish you could reach this level but you were already too drained by the fast back and forth. “ this is how i should wake up my sleepy girl every morning. don't you think ? ”

he finally managed to cum, spilling thicks of loads inside you. your head failing in the bed as he slowly pulled his dick out, before pushing it into your mouth. the sight of your tongue licking every single drop of juice left him even horny, your pretty lips weeped with cum and wetness, that he smeared with the tip of his cock, before letting you clean everything.

“ it was not a fuck, it was an attempted murder. ” you told him.

“ don't inspire me for round 2, you will regret it. ”

“ don't complain me about why i sleep this much when you fucking me like that. ”

“ i'm fucking tired…” you said, a little yawn leaving your mouth as rafe and you entering the room after a living pool party, were you literally rested on your boyfriend’s lap during all the event, falling asleep on his shoulder as he was still talking with his friends.

he was now used to since he dated you from a long moment. he was now able to take care of you every time you fell asleep. as always, there was no warning. you could be smiling, living the party, it doesn't mean you were not sleepy. He sometimes complained about how much you slept, but at the same time, how much you didn't get enough sleep.

“ no shit. you were literally drooling over me. ” he said sarcastically. “ lift your arms. ” he commanded, before helping you remove your dress.

he almost passed out when your breasts literally bounced out of your bra as your arms leaned down, his dick slightly growing and forming a bulge inside his pants. but damn, it was not the moments because he knows for sure that you will now fall asleep. AGAIN.

“ do you think topper is mad at me for sleeping at his birthday’s party ? ”

“ do i look like the type of boyfriend that i care about what another man is feeling about my girlfriend ? because, i'm not. ”

“ it was rude…. it's his birthday ! ”

“ babe, i could even fuck you right in front of him that he wouldn't even care or remarks. don't you see how he was just drooling like a dog because of my sister ? ”

“ maybe, i should call…”

rafe had raised an eyebrow, his jaw twitching slightly as you pulled on one of his t-shirts. “ since when do you have topper’s number ? ”

“I mean with your phone. Why would I have his number. Anyways, i'm sorry for this…it's pretty embarrassing. ”

“ What about looking me in the eyes if you at least want me to believe you about your apologies?”

“ Don't fight me right now, i'm tired.”

“ And actually, when you're not ? ” he mocked, and you finally looked at him.

“ When i'm sleeping, it's obvious. ”

“ You forget when i fuck you’. It doesn't seems like you're very tired. ”

after showering and brushing your teeths, you moved to your favorite place in the world — your bed. you loved the clean of the sheets. you covered yourself with the blanket, dropping only your head out.

when rafe appareaded, you couldn't help but stare at his perfect body. you followed his moves, lurking to the good and big shape of his biceps, the well-sculpted ridges of his abs, the visible v-line curved on his hips. “ don't look at me like that. ” he warned.

“ then i will look at someone else. ”

“ funny. ” he said, chuckling without smiling. “ that you think i will let you do such a thing. but keep daydreaming. ”

“ no need to be jealous. there is no kooks better than you. ”

“ does it mean there are pogues better than me ? ”

you sighed, shaking your head and crossing your arms.

“ i don't even hang out with pogues ! don't take it in the wrong way. what about watching a good movie before sleeping ? ”

“ be serious. i know you well, you're gonna fall asleep before the movie even starts. ”

“ no ! i'm fully awake. ”

“ which movies do you want to watch ? and there is no way i'm gonna watch that fucking film with a black cat and a ladybug. ”

“ then what about five nights at Freddy's ? ”

“ sounds better. ” he simply said, while typing on the dashboard.

your gaze leaned down on his ringed fingers, fast and thick. your slowly opened your lips, imagining how much they can stretch your mouth, leaving her with a pool of drool from how wet they're from your saliva. but also, how much they will manage to keep your mouth open without effort.

a sparkle shone in your eyes, and you wrapped your arm around rafe's one, making him look without really giving you full attention. “ what you want ? ”

“ nothing. did you find the movie ? ”

“ you like horror movies ? ”

“ no, i like josh. ”

“ bet he died at the end of the movie. ”

“ rafe ! ”

“ yea, keep crying. ”

he started the movie but you were very sleepy. again. you forced yourself to keep your eyes open but it was really hard. you blinked so many times to fight the urge of sleeping, but you're finally falling asleep.

rafe didn't stopped the movie because he was now too invested in it, but let your head rest against his naked chest, stroking your hair gently.

at the beginning of your relationship, it was so new for him to be this close to a person, to reach this type of intimacy but now he was craving for it, finding peace and comfort.

you were his sleepy girlfriend that was now sleeping over him, but will probably wake up in five hours when he will be dead asleep while, you will be looking for a nocturnal activity, trying to not wake him up.

sometimes, and a lot of times, you have sleepless nights that make you even more tired, and fall asleep early or late in the morning. you could feel though the sleep, rafe's arm loosening around your body as he manages to leave the bed to start the day while you just catching your night.

“ good morning, rafe. ”

“ it's 7pm. ”

“ ... ”

[lanabuckybarnes]

Can’t sleep?

I wrote this at 5am last night when I couldn’t sleep so I hope you enjoy it :)

Also thank you all for the amount of love you gave my last post, I actually cannot believe the number.

You’ve been brainlessly scrolling through TikTok, liking and flicking up to the new one without so much as a smile. At this point it was just noise to push you through the early hours. You glanced at the time, 5am already Shit! Bucky had been asleep behind you for hours now and he’d be getting up soon for briefing, you wanted to make him breakfast this morning but by the looks of things you’ll be sleeping all day.

The feeling of his arms tightening around your waist startle you slightly, a sigh falling from his mouth that leaves the back of your neck warm “why are you not asleep yet?” His voice grumbles into you, his lips brushing your soft skin.

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry” you apologised but he just hummed. Taking your distraction as an opportunity, he grabs the phone from your hands and turns it off, completely ignoring the small ‘Hey’ of surprise that falls from your lips.

“You won’t get to sleep listening to all that crap” he mumbled, turning you effortlessly to face him. Those blue eyes barely visible in the darkness of the room. He nosed your cheek, a small smile tugging on his lips at your huff when his stubble ran over your face— something that you would’ve complained a lot more about had you’ve been less sleep deprived.

His lips trailed soft kisses from your cheekbone all the way up to your forehead, right where your hairline sat, “you’ll complain in the morning if you don’t shut those eyes” he whispered into your sweet scented hair and planted another kiss on the crown of your head.

You hated to admit it but the way his husky voice reprimanded you for your phone usage and the way his lips felt on your skin had you more awake than ever. But you’d wait till later to do anything about your growing desire.

Eventually, after tucking yourself into Bucky’s meaty chest to listen to his thrumming heart along with his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your hip, you managed to doze off.

He was right, in the morning he’d woken you up with a big smile and you’d smacked him around the jaw with a pillow. Maybe pancakes in bed would help?

[httpsdana]

could u do a gavi fic with prompt 7 and 9 pleaseee? and they are just up till 5am in the morning, with the sun starting to rise and he misses training because he falls asleep..something like that? i loove ur fics (especially ur gavi ones) thank you so much!!💞💞

Midnight Cookies~Pablo Gavi

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

in honor of our golden boy coming back, heres a cute fic abt him. missed him sm 😖 enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

7-"my favorite new pillow" "I can't breathe" "I don't care"

9-"it's 2 am, go back to sleep"

The plan was simple—Gavi had agreed to stay up all night with his girlfriend. It was something spontaneous, a silly idea after spending the whole evening watching movies together.

y/n had suggested pulling an all-nighter just for fun, like when they were kids, and he was quick to agree, excitement gleaming in his eyes.

But now, at 2 AM, with Gavi asleep beside her on the couch, she started to think maybe she should’ve known better. His head was resting on her shoulder, his body curled up against hers like she was his personal pillow. The movie playing on the TV was long forgotten, just background noise to his soft breathing. y/n , on the other hand, was still wide awake, mind buzzing with the fun of staying up past a reasonable hour.

She shifted slightly, trying not to wake him, but he stirred anyway, groggily lifting his head. His eyes blinked open, squinting at the bright screen, and then he looked at her, his voice sleepy as he mumbled, “It’s 2 am, go back to sleep.”

“I thought we were staying up all night,” she whispered back with a grin, teasing him.

He frowned, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, but I’m tired.” He looked ready to sink back into sleep, but she tugged on his arm playfully.

“Come on, let’s bake something or watch another movie! You can’t fall asleep now, we’re only halfway through the night.”

Gavi groaned but laughed softly, clearly amused by her determination. “Fine, but only because you’re cute.” He sat up, his hand slipping into hers as he stretched. “What do you wanna bake?”

“Cookies!” she said excitedly, already getting off the couch to head to the kitchen.

“Cookies at 2 AM,” he muttered, shaking his head but following after her. “Only you would think of that.”

In the kitchen, y/n gathered the ingredients while Gavi leaned against the counter, watching her with sleepy eyes. "You should be helping," she teased, nudging him with her elbow as she measured the flour.

He smirked and walked over, slipping his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“I’m supervising. It’s a very important job.” His voice was low and gravelly, making her smile.

She mixed the dough, Gavi’s arms still loosely wrapped around her. Occasionally, he'd sneak his hand forward, poking at the dough or stealing a bit to taste.

“Hey!” y/n scolded playfully, slapping his hand away.

“I’m just checking to make sure it’s good,” he said with a grin, licking the dough from his finger. “It’s perfect.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to focus as she added the chocolate chips. “If we don’t finish this, it’ll be because you ate half the ingredients.”

Gavi chuckled, placing a kiss on her cheek before letting her go. He moved around the kitchen, grabbing baking sheets and helping her scoop the dough into perfect little rounds. It was oddly domestic and comforting, the quiet intimacy of baking together in the middle of the night.

“I didn’t think you’d actually help,” she teased, glancing at him as he carefully spaced the cookies on the tray.

“I’m not that useless,” he quipped, giving her a mock-offended look.

“No, you’re not,” she agreed with a smile, leaning over to kiss him quickly on the lips.

After putting the cookies in the oven, they both sat on the counter, legs swinging as they waited for them to bake. Gavi leaned his head on her shoulder, eyes heavy with sleep again. y/n reached over to gently run her fingers through his hair, feeling him relax against her.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“Not asleep,” he mumbled, though his eyes were closed. “Just resting my eyes.”

y/n laughed softly and let him be. The cookies filled the kitchen with a warm, sugary smell, and she couldn’t help but feel a soft flutter of happiness in her chest. Moments like this with him were her favorite—simple, sweet, and full of love.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The morning sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow across the room. y/n blinked awake, feeling the weight of Gavi still resting on her. His face was nestled into the crook of her neck, his arm draped lazily across her waist, his breath soft and steady against her skin. She was warm, almost too warm, but she didn’t want to move just yet.

It wasn’t until she glanced at the clock on the wall that reality hit her. It was well past 10 am. Gavi’s training session started at 8.

“Pablito,” she whispered, nudging him gently. “Gavi, wake up.”

He grunted, shifting slightly but refusing to fully wake up. She tried again, shaking him a little harder. “Pablo, wake up. You missed training!”

That got a reaction. He groggily lifted his head, squinting at her with bleary eyes, trying to process what she was saying. "Huh?"

“You missed training,” she repeated, pointing to the clock.

His eyes widened as realization sank in. “Oh, shit!” He scrambled up, his hands flying to his head as he sat up fully, looking around in a panic. “I’m so dead, I can’t believe—”

“baby, relax!” she laughed, sitting up beside him. “Just call in sick.”

He shook his head, still in a mild state of panic. “I’m gonna be in so much trouble.”

She reached over and placed a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay. You can say you weren’t feeling well.”

He groaned, covering his face with his hands for a moment before peeking at her through his fingers. “This is all your fault, you know,” he muttered, though there was no real bite in his words.

“You love it,” she teased, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“sadly, I do,” he admitted with a sigh, wrapping his arms around her again and pulling her back into his chest.

“ my favorite new pillow.” he murmured into her neck

y/n rolled her eyes playfully but didn’t resist as he held her close. His body was warm and heavy against hers, and she could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest against her hands that were resting there.

“I can't breathe” she teased, fake gasping as if she was choking.

“I don’t care,” he muttered, his lips brushing the top of her head as his grip tightened around her waist.

y/n laughed, trying to squirm out from under him, but he only tightened his grip. “Pablo! you're crushing me.”

Finally, he loosened his hold and kissed her again, this time on the lips. His lips were soft, lingering for a few seconds before he pulled away slightly, his voice still sleepy but full of affection. “You’re not going anywhere princesa”

She smiled, running her fingers through his messy hair. “But you missed training…”

He groaned again, sitting up reluctantly. “Alright, alright. I’ll call in sick.” He grabbed his phone, but before making the call, he leaned in to kiss her one more time, longer this time, savoring the moment.

And even though he was technically in trouble, neither of them cared. Because right then, in each other’s arms, nothing else mattered.

[tbgblr2]

Cruising to a new life - Part 8

(Some may say at long last… sorry just been having a real bad time of getting motivated to write with work chaos ruling my life. Hopefully this won’t go so many months without a follow up…)

- - - -

I was roused from my sleep by the sound of my phone going off with a message. My sleep-addled brain immediately went to wonder who was messaging me until I realised that I was at sea, and we wouldn’t get mobile signal here. Jodie’s phone went off a second or two later, and that’s when we realised it was a shipwide message.

Picking up my phone, as Jodie did the same, we both looked at each other. “Adriana’s in labour” we both said to each other simultaneously.

The message was ship wide from Charles and said that Adriana had started having contractions at 5am that morning and wanted to start her video diary of her labour as soon as soon as she could. Over the course of the last 3 hours – checking my watch it was 8am – they have developed and became regular. She would like to invite everyone to the cinema to watch at their own convenience. Charles added at the end – it may be difficult viewing for some so individual discretion is advised. The standard cinema screenings would be put on hold whilst the video diary was being transmitted to the ship.

Jodie had already started tapping away on her phone. “Jess is going there right now, she’s been awake for an hour or two already.” Jodie’s hand rubbed her bump absentmindedly. “I’m sure this one has seen enough babies coming out of people now to get the hint… who knows we might be next.”

I kissed her. “We can only hope babe.” I laughed as I rolled out of bed and wandered over to the shower, the rush of water drowning out any other noise that could be heard.

As we got ourselves presentable and headed down to the cinema we realised just how popular this ‘event’ was going to be. We had to wait for 3 different lifts to arrive as the crowds were filling them as they passed but eventually we managed, with a sigh of relief, to get inside the lift car as the doors shut in front of us with a ding.

As we entered into the cinema we were greeted with a who knows how many hundred inch view of Adriana’s face as she was kneeling in a birthing tub, arms crossed on the edge as she looked into the camera and was narrating away.

“The labour pains are frequent but manageable. I’ve been using gas and air to take away the worst of it. Charles has been a welcome distraction and my dear Miguel has been his ever professional self throughout.” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, we presumed this was a signal that a contraction had started, all but guaranteed by the hum escaping her mouth.

We noticed she still had on some sort of top covering in the pool, a sports bra or similar, but with her proclivity for nakedness we had to wonder how long that would stay on. Jodie even turned to me and whispered “do you think she has knickers on?” Which I’ll admit did bring a little chuckle.

We spied Jess and headed over that way as she was sitting in one of the comfy seats, with her hand rubbing her belly absentmindedly she hadn’t even noticed us approaching. Jodie sat down next to her and it was only as she realised there was a space occupied did Jess even acknowledge our arrival.

“Something up?” I asked, noticing she was paying special attention to her midsection.

“I think I might be in labour” Jess talk-whispered loud enough that we could hear but hoping it won’t carry. “But Miguel is obviously otherwise occupied… as you can see” she gestured to the screen where Jess’s lover could be seen wheeling over the bottle of gas and air and handing the mouthpiece to Adriana.

“If you are, you’re going to need to be seen” Jodie admonished, a little shocked that Jess would put the health of herself and her baby in place of the promise that Miguel made to deliver her baby.

“I will, I mean she looks worse off that me, my contractions are only light. We might get to watch this baby be born then I get in right on after” she giggled at least showing her sense of humour wasn’t affected.

I took a moment to change the subject “is your mum coming?” I asked. Jess shook her head.

“She’s not had much sleep what with the baby and me pacing around for hours” again another dirty look from Jodie “so she’s decided to nap when she can. It’s not like me trying to learn something, she’s done it a couple of times now…”

“… and you’ll experience it first hand soon” interrupted Jodie, still not letting the subject lie.

“Yup” grimaced Jess as she pulled her dress tight to her bump and we both saw it change shape, almost becoming oblong as the contraction gripped at Jess and squeezed. It stayed that way for a good minute until it returned to its normal shape and she started breathing normally again. We both looked completely gobsmacked as this event unfolded only a few feet from us.

Jess pulled her phone out from her bag as she tapped a message. We couldn’t see what she wrote but turned to see Miguel in the background on the big screen pick up his phone and tap something, only to hear Jess’s phone buzz a moment later. It was clear they were talking at least.

Jodie huffed in resignation knowing she wasn’t getting Jess to move anywhere so offered her hand for her cruise mate to hold as we all turned towards the big screen.

Adriana was getting out of the pool aided by both Charles and Miguel, her soaked body raising up. Jodie won the bet, she had nothing on from her waist down. As she stepped over the wall of the birthing pool she announced to the camera “I’ll ask Miguel to check my progress then I want to labour outside the pool a little. Movement is very important. You shouldn’t feel constrained to any one place, keep moving, your baby… and hips… will thank you for it.”

Charles brought over a towel and wrapped it around his wife, patting her down and getting rid of as much of the excess water as he could. After both were satisfied, she plodded over to the bed where she lifted her bum up onto it and swung her legs around so she had them splayed open to the camera with everything on display. This brought a few unexpected gasps from the onlooking crowd but from what I knew of Adriana from the few days I had known her, this wasn’t exactly unexpected.

She narrated again as Miguel gloved up a hand and applied some gel to his fingers. “Miguel will enter his fingers into me and he can feel how much my cervix has dilated. It was previously at 5cm but I’m hoping for more” she said as she shuffled back on the bed. She held her breath and breathed a out as Miguel put his hand between his sisters legs, the camera man following around to catch the examination in detail. Miguel’s fingers had all but disappeared when he abounded “you’re at 6. You’re progressing.” That was when Jess gripped Jodie’s hand tight as another contraction assaulted her middle, catching her off guard.

Over the course of the next 3 hours or so the cinema was somewhat abuzz with activity. Some families came and sat for an hour or two, but most seemed to tire of watching the stream eventually, some rejoined it again after leaving for food or some other activities. Some had babies with them at this point and when they got fussy they left the auditorium to save spoiling things for others.

We however, sat enraptured. I had to pop out for food to make sure we kept our growling stomachs satisfied – and it was during one of these trips out that Jess announced she was going back to her room, the confines of the seat too much for her. Having witnessed Adriana going through a particularly tough contraction, and it being echoed in parallel by Jess just next to us, Jodie made sure that I escorted her back to the lifts.

I’ll be honest and say it was the slowest walk of my life. Jess firstly wanted to go outside for fresh air, but had a plodding walk along the deck and stopped 3 times. I asked if each were contractions but she shook her head. “I’m just big” she laughed looking out to sea and resting against a railing.

“It might not be appropriate, but damn it, can you rub my back please?” She asked, almost groaning. I’m guessing that was a contraction. I did as I was asked, knowing fine well comfort was more important than decorum at times like this. It had the desired effect, Jess’s groan turning into something a lot happier sounding as I rubbed her back.

“Now right down the bottom squeeze my hips.” I realised she was echoing something she watched Adriana do when coping with a contraction, though in her case she was on all fours in the tub and Charles was knee deep in the water behind her. Thankfully Jess didn’t try and get down on all fours mid deck.

“Oh that’s the good stuff. You remember this for Jodie, because this right here is golden” Jess surprisingly had all but lost the sound of pain in her voice and seemed to be coping a lot better after my ministrations. She moved off soon after and we returned indoors to the lift, pressing the button. A few moments later Jess gave me a hug as she stepped inside. I wished her good luck in case I didn’t see her again as the door closed in front of me.

I dashed back to the auditorium to meet up with Jodie again and relayed what had happened with Jess. She in turn explained that Adriana had now not spoken for at least 10 minutes, she was more lost in her contractions than anything, even going so bad as to be yowling in pain as she goes through them. She seemed to be having it real tough – perhaps, we thought, much tougher than she expected. Jodie did confide in me that she was worried about going overdue and finding the baby be too big to push out. I told her that it’s really unlikely, and in all of the birth videos we had watched together – and let me tell you it was a lot – we had never seen anyone struggle as much as Adriana seemed to be doing at the moment.

We had lost sight of Jess for over an hour at this point and to be frank we were starting to wonder if she was still in her room with her mum or if she’d moved on to delivery by now. On the screen in front of us, Adriana was not doing so well. Her attempts at being a calm, collected labouring mother were long gone as the tears streamed down her face and she yelled out with abandon. She was presumably deep in transition now, her pains seemingly all but on top of each other but Charles was there to support her, rubbing her back, getting in close and whispering what we presume were affirmations to her ear as she struggled.

Adriana was on her knees in the pool with her arms crossed on the edge, alternating between her forehead and her chin resting on her arms. We were presuming there was no sign of the baby and she wasn’t pushing as the cameraman was stoicly sat in front of her - last time he moved around the pool was to catch Miguel leaning in over the edge of the to check her progress where he announced she was 8cm and nearly there. We don’t know if Adriana actually realised in her state.

Suddenly we see Miguel’s phone ring and he answered it. Whilst we could only see his half of the conversation on camera we guessed the other participant would be Jess by the context of the conversation.

“So soon? Ok please tell me you don’t need to push just yet…. Oh good can you get here? Ok I can’t leave Adi just yet, she’s struggling…. Yes baby I know you are too. Come up here and I’ll let you in. Get here by my room… ok take it slow and ring when you get here I’ll dash through.”

Charles looked up with a quizzical look. “Jess?” he enquired.

“Jess” confirmed Miguel.

That caused Charles to sigh. “I need you to look after your sister she is struggling more than I expected.”

We weren’t expecting to see some sort of family argument playing out on the big screen in front of us but here it was. Miguel took control though “I know what I’m doing. Let me do my job. 2 babies at once is unfortunate but nothing I can’t handle especially when they’re both in the same room and I can keep track of each of them together.”

Charles nodded. “So be it, you’re the expert.” You could tell he wasn’t exactly pleased at the prospect though.

“It’s my decision” confirmed Miguel as he walked off camera.

Charles did what he could to explain the situation to Adriana in a moment of lucidity between contractions and to give his wife her due, she nodded, presumably confirming understanding as she went back to putting her forehead on her arms and letting out a sorrowful moan as the next contraction picked up.

Miguel came back on camera leading Jess by the hand a few moments later. We were somewhat of a close knit community on the ship so there’s a chance that the unexpected arrival was known to many, but Miguel offered no explanation to the camera he just lead her off screen to the other side. Some murmurs were heard in the cinema so perhaps not everyone knew our friend and the relationship she was developing with Miguel.

Charles looked up at the camera and said “Adriana please” - presumably he was being asked who the camera should focus on, the directional mic masking the voice behind the camera.

In the background of the shot - the pool in the foreground and the bed in the back - Miguel had unzipped Jess’s dress and lifted it over her head. She was dressed in a sports bra and light blue maternity panties which came up the underside of her bump, but what was most obvious about them was the dark patch between her legs. We could only presume her waters had broke and she panicked resulting in the phone call.

She didn’t seem in much distress - at least compared to Adriana - as she had her underwear dropped to the floor by Miguel, resting her hands on his shoulders as she stepped out of them. She lifted her bra off herself then flung her arms around Miguel’s shoulders and practically fell into him as she groaned herself.

Miguel, in response could be heard saying “breathe, pant through it. Don’t push! Let me check your progress first” and it was obvious that Jess was much more progressed along her labour journey than what Adriana was at this point in time.

Jess managed to form words around her grunts. “I’m trying baby, it’s too hard, the baby is right there, he’s going to come out…” it ended with a yell. She seemed to squat down a little hanging deeper off his shoulders.

Adriana in turn looked up to the camera then to the side calling for Charles. He dashed around to the front blocking the view of the cameraman, who stepped to the side, taking Jess and Miguel out of shot.

“Charles, Charles… the head. I can feel it, it’s stretching me. I need to push! I need to push!” She was frantic, her hands reaching out to grab Charles’s who in turn held them tight.

“Miguel, she needs to push! Can she push!” Bellowed Charles, concern for his wife etched on his face.

Miguel yelled out “Pant Adi, don’t give in, I’ll be there in a moment… and DONT PUSH!” He emphasised the last part. The cameraman panned over taking Adriana and Charles out of the shot to focus on Miguel and Jess as he was helping her up on the bed and unceremoniously poked 2 fingers between her legs. “Jess, baby. You’re good push when you’re ready. I need to check on Adi a moment.”

Jess’s eyes grew wide and she was about to yell out something about him staying with her as she suddenly curled over and lay on her side on the bed, hooking one leg back - the primal need to push had taken over.

Miguel looked distraught his eyes darting between his sister and lover but he knew Adi needed him more right that second. As the cameraman followed Miguel he bound the few steps it took to get over to the pool to check on Adriana.

He checked her over and confirmed she was at 10cm dilation also and could push when she was ready. Her first attempt was met with a wailing, sorrowful sound but Miguel congratulated her. “That’s it, you’re doing the right thing. Keep that jaw loose. Make as much noise as you need, it really helps things along.”

He looked up to Jess and she was doing somewhat the opposite. Chin to her chest, her face going beet red with effort, she pulled her leg back so far it was squashing tight against her belly, her knee essentially meeting her nipple. Miguel shook his head as he asked Charles to keep Adi focused on pushing and went back to looking after Jess.

“Release, release baby. Breathe, breathe, breathe” he chanted at Jess as his hand met her knee. She gasped and let go of her leg. “Remember the baby needs oxygen. Big gulps of air between pushes. No more than 10 seconds each one.” Jess nodded understanding and gasped a lungful of air as she resumed the position. “Good… good. That’s it. Now breathe!”

Jess gasped and was left panting. “Is that the contraction over?” Asked Miguel. Jess nodded. “Good, take a moment to relax.”

“Is she ok?” Asked Jess, looking over to Adriana.

“She’s good. Struggling a bit, but she’ll get there. Let me worry about her and you worry about yourself and this little one” he said gently resting a hand on Jess’s belly. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, but baby’s come at the time they want and often ruin peoples plans. Just know I’m here for you but I also need to look after my sister.”

Jess nodded understanding as the need to push came back on her. “Good” said Miguel enthusiastically “you’ve got the hang of it, remember to breathe!” As he left her to return to Adriana.

Adriana in turn had flopped back into more of a sitting position in the pool. She had braced her feet against indents in the sides and held on to bars designed to give leverage. Charles had moved back into position behind his wife as the camera was front and centre catching her spread legged position in the main shot. However we could still see Jess in the background taking part in her own battle as Miguel dashed from lady to lady to try and give each as much support as he could.

Jess was the first to crown. The camera of course wasn’t focused on it but we could still see the action happening. Jess’s pushing was much more inward and grunting, Adriana yelling and screeching with each contraction. We saw her lips part and the head come out in about a 2 minute window, Jess giving her own yelp of pain as the head was born. Miguel kept up her spirits with affirmations and coaching then suddenly with a grunt and gush of fluid we watched as Jess’s baby was pushed out and placed on her chest. The sound of a crying baby in the room rang louder than even Adriana’s wails and she stopped, desperately trying to turn around to see what was going on behind her, but her body not letting her.

Adriana’s moment of respite was short lived as she went back into pushing. At this point her lips were bulging outward to show the shape of the head that was so near, yet seemingly so far from being born. She grunted and yelled, and ironically it was the cameraman who yelled out from behind the camera “I can see baby’s hair.”

This seemed to buoy Adriana, who actually smiled, but that smile turned into a grimace as the next contraction forced her to push again. Her lips parted and sure enough the auditorium could clearly see the dark patch between her legs. Charles rubbed her shoulders telling her she was doing great and to keep it up, but what he didn’t see from the room was the collective ‘aww’ we all gave as we saw the head sink back out of view as the contraction let up.

Now admittedly we all knew that this was the process and how it would take several pushes for the head to crown… but for Adriana who was struggling so much it felt like a cruel irony.

[ivymarquis]

A Little Death

Pairing| Ghost x F!Reader Rating| M Word Count| 7k Kinks/Content/Warnings| The author has decided she can't be assed to edit this, Chubby!Reader, Kidnapping, nondescript mentions of torture. Ambiguous mentions of S/A (vague enough you can chose to ignore that part if you want tbh), Reader is traumatized from her ordeal but working through it. Fingering, PiV, riding, squirting, Simon has a moment where he's worried he triggered reader after sex but that is an incorrect assumption on his part.

On days like this Simon can almost pretend he’s normal. 

The game’s on, a beer in one hand while the other has been commandeered by his girlfriend with a simple “Gimmie.”

Simon has never been one to worry about his nails beyond clipping them for practicality’s sake.

Having a SAS lieutenant for a boyfriend means she deals with what she insists is Simon’s paranoia and he insists is a healthy level of suspicion about the outside world. Having a nail technician for a girlfriend means every so often she’ll commandeer his hands to ensure they’re up to her standards. As it turned out, adhering to regulations wasn’t up to par for her. 

His neighbor is a popular woman.

It sets him on edge, all the traffic. One or two people at a time, usually other women- sometimes with a man in tow, other times not. They show up, they stay for maybe an hour or maybe 4, and they leave. Within 30 minutes someone else is knocking on her door.

Normal men humor their partners about things they don’t particularly give a fuck about when left to their own devices, as an acknowledgment of its importance to them. 

And so he sits, beer in one hand as she works on the other. Once she’s finished she gathers up the towel that acts as a catch for the various clips and trimmings before making her move to switch sides, Simon easily acquiescing to her whim.

“I’m not keeping you up, am I?” She asks one night. Music plays lowly from a laptop on her patio as he steps onto his for a smoke break. Just because he’s got his vice doesn’t mean he wants the whole flat smelling like it.

“Don’t sleep much anyway, pet. Bit of music won’t change that one way or another.”

Despite his insistence that he’s merely humoring her, he soaks up the attention she readily gives him. When she’s done and tidied after herself she returns with a small bottle of lotion.

He’s got one arm wrapped around her shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of her head as she massages his hand. If he plays his cards right tonight he can probably get her to soothe some of the aches and stiff muscles that always plague him. For now he melts as she seems to know exactly what points to hit in his palm and forearm. 

It’s domestic and normal and Simon can almost ignore the burner phone he keeps on him at all times.

It goes off at 5am on a Sunday, Simon already awake and having been watching the ceiling fan since 4:30. He can’t fall back asleep but can’t bring himself to separate from her. 

She burrows further into his chest as his shifting disrupts her. He’s fairly certain she would crawl inside his ribcage if she could, curl up right next to his heart and never leave. 

Simon would gladly let her. 

She’s a nail technician, he comes to learn. Sure as shit, he eventually memorizes the traffic that comes and goes on a roughly two week interval. Some of them are steadfast in their appointments. 2 o clock every other Thursday. 4 o clock every other Friday. Others not so much- they come around frequently but the days and times are random after the 14 day mark. 

The familiarity of some of the faces takes him slightly less on edge. He will never relax, not truly, but it settles him down now that he knows the pattern. 

It also explains why her hands have two completely different designs on each one. Color, pattern, the shape of the nails. Her left and right hand look like they belong to two different people. 

Simon doesn’t use social media, for obvious reasons. His little neighbor has formed an entire career for herself based off of it. 

But the phone buzzes on the nightstand, an omniscient presence that always hovers heavy in the air.

“Price?” Is all he gives for a greeting. Trying to keep his words short and concise. He doesn’t want to wake her, still under the lull she draws him into without trying. 

He keeps his work and his personal life separate with no intention of ever melding the two. 

“Laswell’s got intel. We meet in 2 days, back on base at 06:00.”

He is about to respond, both an acknowledgment and a hopeful end to the conversation, when she stretches next to him with a groan of protest at being awoken so early. 

“Tell your other girlfriend I said hi,” she grumbles, already knowing it’s Price on the phone and that the clock is officially counting down on the time they have left together. 

“You know at a certain point I'm going to just decide you’ve got a whole secret life with a wife and kids and a picket fence.”

He doesn’t want his work to ever follow him home. Not to her. He keeps them strictly separate. She knows he’s military- specifically SAS- and that he works in counter terrorism and that’s about all he’s willing to tell. She doesn’t need to know details. And more importantly the details don’t ever need to know about her. 

His past missions have haunted him in the worst way possible. He’s finally rebuilt something for himself as the ghost of a dead man, and doesn’t want anything to ever tarnish what he’s found. 

He can’t entirely blame her. It takes a leap of faith to accept the little he offers her. What does he have? A dead man’s name and most likely a violent end waiting for him. 

Eventually he does offer a small peace offering. Price is enough to settle the concerns that she hides as jokes. Provides enough credibility that she can let go of the concern that he’s living a double life.

Well, he is. But not the kind that nags at her. 

Price knows her; Gaz and Soap know that he’s got someone waiting for him at home, but Simon is already at his limit of how much intermingling he can handle. They’re both compromising, both making allowances for their comfort levels for the sake of the other. But he has to draw the line somewhere. 

If Simon had his way Gaz and Soap would be none the wiser, but a night of frantic coupling before he’d left had Simon bearing marks that are incredibly obvious in the changing room. 

“Steamin’ Jesus L.T.! You get jumped by a wildcat?” The chortle from the Scot makes it obvious that Johnny is yet again not afraid to push Simon’s buttons. 

There’s no denying what they are, nor how he got them. Neither Soap nor Gaz are stupid. 

Long, red scratch marks criss cross the broad expanse of his scarred back. He certainly hadn’t complained when his lovely girl had left her mark on him- those nails dragging across his skin had only encouraged him as his hips clapped wetly against hers, hands gripping her knees as he pressed them to her shoulders.

Most nights he is soft and gentle and strokes her skin while his lips press either in her hair or the soft expanse of her neck. He doesn’t roughhouse her tonight, but the knowledge he’ll be gone for weeks and tonight is their last together for the foreseeable future?

Well, the pair of them are a bit amped about the impending separation. It’s a good thing neither of them are particularly known for their good sleeping habits, because there’s not a lot of that usually happening on the nights before Simon leaves. 

Leaving without waking her up is an impossible task but he tries anyway.

Whereas Simon finds sleep difficult to achieve and eventually sleeps like the dead once he finds it, she drifts readily enough but will wake at the drop of a hat.

Usually she’ll settle soon after. Eyes following his form in the dark, waiting expectantly for him to come back after he dresses to kiss her goodbye. 

They carve out a routine for themselves. One for when Simon is home, and one for when he’s preparing to walk out the door until eventually coming back through it.

His therapist is equal parts shocked and pleased to hear that Simon is taking the leap and opening himself up emotionally to someone. 

His therapist is less pleased about the way he simply buries himself in her life when he’s on leave.

Simon is nothing- has nothing- when he is not acting in the line of duty. He is a dead man with nothing to his name and no one who gives a fuck if he ever walks back through the door that isn’t tied to his military career. 

He thrives on the stability and schedule on base. On the simplicity of nights spent out on the field. Wake up, piss, dont die, go to sleep. Wake up, repeat. 

Some days the only thing keeping him from trying to end it all (again, he bitterly acknowledges) when he’s gotten too far into a bottle of bourbon is his therapist and the thought of his team’s face at the news. 

Until, at least, he meets her. 

The mission is brief but successful. Simon is pleased. 

The deepest of the scratch marks has just finished healing and he’s already missing the sensation of her nails dragging against his skin- and he’s not picky about the context, either. 

There have been plenty of nights he’s fallen asleep with his face buried in her chest with one of her hands scratching gently at his scalp and the other tracing in broad strokes across his back.

Of course those nails also feel divine scratching at his abdomen while she is on her knees for him.

There’s a process he goes through when he gets home. It lets him shed the mantle of Ghost- to calm down as much as he’s able and be better equipped to deal with civilian life. Helps him give her the illusion that she is with a normal man who’s not holding onto himself with a death grip, desperately trying to keep the pieces together.

He feels fine when he leaves base and heads home. Everything is normal. 

Until he turns the corner and sees the door ajar.

Fear runs ice cold in his veins, hackles raised and on guard. 

I’m just being paranoid, he tries to self soothe as he steps towards the door. She tells me all the time.

Course, it was one thing when he gripes about how she answers the door without looking to see who it is. She doesn’t leave the fucking door open.

“Wish you’d at least look at the peep hole before just opening the bloody door,” he grouses into her hair, pulling her in so she’s tucked up to his side. 

“If I’m expecting someone to come at 3 and there’s a knock at 3, I already know who it is, Si.”

There are times when he is grateful that she has, by comparison, lived a life where she thinks he is paranoid and needlessly worries. She hasn’t had the experiences he has, and he doesn’t wish that upon her. He’s grateful with the knowledge that every time he’s sent out, thus far, that she’s been tucked away safe and sound until he returns. 

But of course the other shoe was always going to drop eventually. 

“Price?” Simon doesn’t know who else to call. 

He’s standing in the middle of his flat, evidence of an altercation scattered around the living room. 

She put up a fight if the state of the flat is anything to go by. He wants to be proud of that at least, use it as hope-

He just feels hollow. 

A group the 141 has dealt with prior are the ones all the signs point to. They wanted the team’s attention and by God they fucking got it. 

Simon doesn’t understand how they found she has any ties to him. He’s so careful- keeps her tucked away and hidden from any potential cross over with his work.

The next few days are a blur and Simon’s mental health has seen better days. 

He resigns himself, even when Laswell gets a hit and the 141 are loaded into a helo, to the fact that at best this will be a body retrieval mission. 

Even as Soap gives a reassuring knock into his shoulder- we’ll get her back, LT- as confident as ever. 

His sweet girl is dead, just like every other person Simon has ever cared about. 

He doesn’t understand what he’s done to deserve losing them all. The only ones he has left are his team, and that’s a tenuous state at best. His family was good. They were normal people with normal lives. She is good and a normal person. 

Her only sin is being foolish enough to love him. 

Some time between getting on the bird and offloading, Simon forces the thoughts in a corner and blocks them off. 

Simon, the terrified boyfriend, gives way to Ghost so he can get through this in one piece. He just wants to find her, bring her home and bury her body. He’s numb to anything beyond the scope of the plan he’s formed in his mind. 

It’s laughably easy. A fringe group the 141 has had altercations with- she’s not exactly a high profile prisoner. They just wanted to fuck with Simon.

There’s no satisfaction or vindication as they clear the building floor by floor. 

He feels nothing.

The further they venture into the building with no sign of her, the pit in his stomach sinks just as far. There’s no sign of anything concrete or anywhere they’d keep a prisoner. 

And then there, in a corner of a hallway, Ghost spots it-

An acrylic nail lying broken on the ground, dried blood clotted on the tips. 

For the first time in days, Simon feels something. 

It’s not hope. He doesn’t dare hope. 

But it’s confirmation that she has, at some point, been in the building. 

It’s also confirmation that she gave it a fighting chance. 

She’s a civilian- nothing much she can do against professional criminals. But she tried and Simon has to find something in that.

They split into pairs down a hallway clearing rooms. Every door that opens only to not have her in it is like a knife that keeps twisting in his abdomen. 

Just let him have this one thing. 

It’s just as Ghost and Soap have called out clear on another room that he hears Price’s voice call to him down the hall. 

There’s only one reason Price would be calling for him specifically.

As he approaches he can hear the captain again, softer this time. Can’t make out what he’s saying but everything feels slow; like he’s moving under water. 

As his mind prepares him for every horrific potential image waiting for him beyond the threshold of the door- there’s nothing that prepares him for what he sees. 

She’s alive. 

Wide eyed and panicked, which is to be expected all things considered, but she’s here and she’s breathing.

Simon forgets himself entirely. He swings wildly from feeling nothing to feeling everything and it bubbles up all at once as he barrels towards her. 

He forgets that while she knows Simon is SAS she knows nothing of Ghost. Simon works in counter terrorism, yes, but she knows nothing about the mask.

So after being kidnapped and going through God-knows-what in her absence, she’s got no fucking clue the 6’4 fucker with the skull mask gunning for her is her boyfriend. 

The sharp, croaked “Stay the fuck away from me!” doesn’t cut but it does jog his memory enough to know she’s absolutely terrified.

Again there’s that part of him that is proud of her. After everything she’s been through even if she wouldn’t stand a chance in an actual altercation- She’s not huddled in the corner. She looks willing to fight him, until Simon rips the mask off his face. “It’s me, love! It’s me.”

“Simon? What the fuck is that?!”

Rather than scrambling to get away she turns to launch herself at him, a tangle of limbs as they cling to each other and reassure themselves that yes this is real and yes the other is there. That this fucking nightmare is over.

Simon buries his nose in her hair- was so certain he’d be bringing her home in a body bag he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. She’s shaking in his grip, sobs ripping through her as he shushes her gently and murmurs “It’s alright, love. I’ve got you now.”

“As much as I love a good reunion- we need to get going, Ghost.” Price is ever the voice of reason, because Simon’s head is not in the game right now. 

He wants to cling to her and never let her go- he needs to pull his head out of his ass. 

Price isn’t wrong. As much as he has to fight off the impulse to tuck her against his side and keep her there, they have shit to do. 

He won’t truly be able to relax until she’s safely stowed on the helo and they’re on their way back.

It’s a bit easier once he puts the mask on. His brain is trained to focus on work and not let his personal life muddy the waters. Where Simon can’t help but falter, Ghost is dauntless. 

Simon can barely string a thought together now that he has her back in his arms. Simon still cannot believe she’s alive and breathing even after touching, smelling and hearing her. 

But Ghost can focus on getting her to the helo. 

Everything is a blur as Price and Gaz lead with Soap bringing up the rear. 

Ghost can’t quite decide where he wants her- keeps alternating between keeping her behind him in the event they get blindsided, that he’ll take any hits that go past Price or Gaz, or getting her in front of him so he can keep an eye on her, and there’s two SAS soldiers in front of her and two behind.

The hostiles in the building wanted the 141’s attention. Mission fucking accomplished.

The ones they chance across are dropped with ease. Simon is no stranger to returning to a location and making his point. Right now he’s got bigger concerns to be worried about. 

A knot of anxiety lodges itself on his ribcage as they move through the building that doesn’t unwind until he’s got her strapped to her seat in the helo. 

For the first time in days he can breathe. The knot slowly untangles as they ascend.

It finally settles in for both of them that she is out and she is safe. She’s been quiet the whole trek to the helo but Price, Soap, and Gaz have been on enough hostage recovery missions to not be caught off guard as she bursts into tears and buries her face in Ghost’s vest. 

It’s finally safe for her to do so, the adrenaline wearing off as she sobs. 

For the most part the other three men try to avert their eyes and not intrude.

Simon’s always been reserved about his life off base and watching him soothe his partner is bordering too personal for the others to witness.

It comes and goes in waves; Simon will settle her down, crooning quietly in her ear too low for the others to hear. She’ll stifle her tears for a bit as he soothes her. They go straight to medical after landing to have her looked at. She starts up again while waiting for the nurse to come back, trying to apologize to Simon through choked sobs. 

He won’t hear it, softly but firmly brushing her apologies to the side and assuring her everything’s fine now, love. No need to apologize.

He feels physically ill when the nurse delicately asks if she needs a rape kit or screenings done.

The rest of the 141 gives them a wide berth- which is a marked accomplishment because all too often Soap and Gaz are trailing behind him and finding some sort of shenanigans to get up to. Simon is perfectly content with the arrangement. He wants to focus his attention on her and that’s easier to do without the sergeants under foot.

His room on base is much like his entire apartment was before she moved in.

It’s 3am, Simon needs to take a piss and as he’s doing so, he’s not-quite eye level with a sign that says

“★★★★★ -

Would poop here again”

He’s got no idea when or where she found that, let alone put it up, but rolls his eyes good naturedly as he tucks himself away.

Normal people have bathroom decor.

Simon can appreciate a bit or a joke as much as the next person- but while this space is his it’s not something he’s ever felt the need to decorate. It’s a bed for him to crash on in between missions or if he’s too bloody exhausted to safely make the trek home.

There’s only one piece of any sort of personal touch to the room- a framed photo of her.

Simon intends to see her through the next few days- they’ll head home in the morning and realistically there’s only so long John can hold off on calling the boys in again. But the captain says he’ll do what he can to keep Simon home while they settle back in. He’s been due for some leave anyway.

He doesn’t sleep the first night. She swings drastically between being knocked out and jolting awake screaming and crying. Even once she’s gotten over the initial shock of her rescue it still takes time for her nervous system to calm down.

“I’ve got you, love- you’re safe here” he murmurs into her ear as she trembles like a leaf. “We’ll be home soon, yeah? You’ll feel better once you’re in our bed.”

The question is twofold- it is to soothe her, and also to gauge her reaction to the prospect of going home. Simon won’t hesitate to set the flat ablaze if it makes her feel better. 

Start fresh.

For now she seems to sleep better if he’s got her pinned up against the wall- the bulk of him a physical barrier to anything that might enter the room.

He’s always slept between her and the door so that’s no hardship- it just takes time to realize she feels safer trapped between him and the wall.

They make it through the first night in one piece, although the next morning she will not stop chewing on her nails. With someone else, he wouldn’t necessarily be surprised- but she’s never been a nail biter.

It dawns on him, as she sits on the couch and bursts into tears, that she wants the nails (or at least the ones that survived the ordeal) off, and is winding herself up too much to take them off the way she knows she should.

Simon goes to her office; he’s watched her enough that he knows the steps and the materials she’ll need, gathering them up before coaxing her to the table.

There’s no interest in redoing them but Simon manages to get the current sets off of her so she doesn’t damage her nail beds- assuming she stops chewing on them (which she does).

Over the next few days he lets her set the pace. She’s jumpy at home and calmer when he takes her out to run errands or just to stretch their legs. 

Maybe he will propose moving sooner rather than later. Their building is a shithole anyway.

He puts her in therapy after a week. It’s the only time he’s away from her. Realistically he knows it’s not good to have her so used to always being within arms length or eyesight of him- it’s not sustainable when eventually he will be called back in. But he has no qualms for the coddling he subjects her to while he’s able to. She’s quiet and comfortable with his hovering in a way she’d never tolerate before she was abducted- he figures he’ll know when she’s feeling a bit like herself again when she starts complaining about him not giving her any space.

Knowing she’s got the therapist gives him some security on how she’ll mentally cope when eventually he needs to leave again.

Her bursting into tears occurs less frequently. If Simon has to pry himself away from her to take a piss in the middle of the night she’s not up, back ramrod straight and waiting for him to come back with wet, teary eyes.

As the days tick on, bleeding into months later, Simon idly acknowledges that-short of when he’s on deployment- this is the longest they’ve gone without having sex. There’s nothing else that goes with that acknowledgement- he’s far more concerned with her well being than he is getting his kicks. He’s just taking stock of all their ‘normals’ and prior to her abduction they’d had quite the active sex life.

It’s one day as they’re watching a movie that it’s apparent Simon isn’t the only one aware of their dry spell.

They’re laying on the couch, her back pressed against his front with one of his heavy arms draped across her rib cage to keep her snuggled up against him as they watch the screen in front.

At first he thinks that she’s repositioning- thinks nothing of it and lifts his arm just enough to allow her the freedom to wiggle to a more comfortable spot. She keeps wiggling though and Simon is trying to keep his mind off the sensation of her arse grinding into his groin. Trying to ignore the way his dick twitches in interest, because- God help him- he's not dead and the love of his life is grinding her arse on him. Bodies are going to do what bodies do, and he can feel himself stiffening in response.

“Sweetheart, you need to sit still,” he whispers the plea into her ear. 

Her head tilts back towards him and lust jolts through his body at the look in her eyes while she still continues to grind against him.

“I miss you, Simon,” and given how he is rarely further than grabbing distance from her, there’s very few other ways to interpret what exactly it is that she is missing.

He’s a goner when she gives him that wide, doe eyed expression paired with the prettiest “Please?” he’s ever heard in his life.

One moment they’re quiet and content laying on their sides on the couch- the next Simon’s gripping her arm and pulling her on top of him as he settles onto his back. She follows his lead and moves so her weight is settled on his hips as his hands grip hers.

It is no hardship on his end to wait for her- the patience never truly even registered in his brain. She can have as much time as she needs and Simon will give it to her gladly.

But his pretty girl batting her eyes at him and pleading softly for him? His patience isn’t the only thing he’s willing to give her.

“Are you sure?” He doesn’t mean to second guess her or make her question herself but he does want to make sure that she’s not acting on obligation.

“Yes, Simon- Please,” and who is he to deny her?

His hands are on her immediately- pulling her towards him and encouraging her to grind, knowing her sweet clit will light up at the friction of her soft panties dragging across the rough material of his jeans.

His lips find hers, separating only briefly as he hauls her dress up and over her head, happily discarding the material in a heap on the floor.

His hands grip her hips, Simon relaxing into the couch while his fingers dug into the pillow soft skin perching above him. He’s straining against the fabric of his jeans- knows the tip of his erection is leaking clear pre and it’s not just going to be her being the reason the fabric has a wet spot.

The couch is certainly not the worst place to be, his beautiful girlfriend’s tits in his face as she grinds down in his lap with little hitching breaths.

“Just like that, pretty,” he encourages, kissing down her jawbone, the length of her neck and across her collar bone before happily mouthing at her breasts which are blessedly right in his face.

Simon groans in pleasure as he teases one nipple, her sweet mewls and the grip on his hair only spurring him on.

Grabbing a handful of her plush arse, he groans in anticipation while switching from one breast to the other.

It’s been a fair while since his back has been shredded by her nails and he can’t wait to feel the bite of them dragging down the length of his spine.

“Lift up, sweetheart,” he instructs, somewhat loath to release her plump bottom but eager to get her dripping for him.

She pulls up enough for him to slip one hand between her legs. Exploring fingers are quick to spread her wetness, dipping between her folds and dragging back up to circle her clit softly.

“Fuck- Simon!” she whines in his ear.

He knows enough by now what makes her tick. Once she’s all warmed up and ready to roll, that sweet cunt of hers could take a thrashing. But warming up involves feather-light touches to get her squirming and squealing for him.

“Feels good, pretty?” he asks despite knowing the answer in the way her arms wrap around his neck and she sags against him, hips twitching as she lets him tease her.

“Ye-yeah,” she murmurs, and presses her lips against his neck as he takes another pass- finger pulling away from her clit just to draw shivers from her as he traces back down her folds and presses ever so lightly against the entrance on her- just to the first knuckle- and making his way back to tease her clit.

Each pass has her rocking her hips more as he slips more of his finger inside, eventually adding a second that has her mewling and squirming in his lap.

He’s going to have one hell of a hickey from how she’s sucking on his neck, but Simon can’t bring himself to care. Not when his ears are graced with the delightful little noises she makes- whimpers of protest as he pulls his fingers out of her, the shaky inhales as he circles her clit and the trembling moan when he once again slides his fingers inside of her to give a few pointed strokes to her g-spot just to get her shivering and blinking up at him with lust-blown eyes.

“Fuck you’re wet,” there’s absolutely zero resistance now, even when he slides a third finger inside her. 

“Please,” she mewls into his skin, hips rocking in time with the thrust of his fingers into her.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.” He’s always found her an absolute delight to tease- she gets so flustered and stares at him with that doe eyed, betrayed look- how dare he make her ask for anything when it’s obvious what she wants.

“Please let me cum,” she pants as her eyes screw up in pleasure while his fingers trace and circle her clit for several passes.

“You wanna cum, love?” His tone is just a bit too soft to be a mocking tease despite the way she glares at him. Spoiled little thing so easily sliding back into her old habits.

“I’m going to bite you,” she grumbles in bemused annoyance, brows furrowing as she tries to follow his hand while teasing her.

He doesn’t doubt his little viper for a second, mollifying her displeasure with three fingers digging for that spot that makes her see stars.

“Oh~,” she mewls against him as he stokes the fires of her orgasm with a vengeance. He doesn’t stop, angling his hand so his thumb can stroke against her clit and enjoying the way she trembles against him like a leaf caught in a windstorm.

“That the spot, hm? Right there, innit?” He rumbles low in her ear, a satisfied smirk on his face as she nods in a big sweeping motion against his neck. “Come on, pretty. You wanna cum so badly? Do it.” he baits.

Mission accomplished.

Fuck he’ll remember the vision of her crying and cumming and trembling in his hold, soaking his forearm and abdomen as she squirts, for the rest of his days. His free hand runs soothingly down her back for a few passes before pulling both hands away from her.

She’s immediately whining against him, upset at having his touch taken away. “Simon, please-”

He shushes her with a kiss to her temple, “I know what you need, sweetheart,” he murmurs while deftly undoing his pants and freeing his cock.

It only takes a few strokes, already straining and ready to perform, before they’re shuffling as he pulls and maneuvers her so she’s hovering above him and Oh fuck has Simon missed this as she sinks down on him.

It always takes a couple attempts- he’s not a small man, and doesn’t want to risk injury. Not to mention there’s just something fucking delicious about only giving her a few inches, pulling back and feeding her just a few more. Slow, short, steady thrusts that get deeper bit by bit, having Simon ready to melt into the couch at the bliss of being buried in her by the time she sinks all of her weight onto him, her groin pressing against his.

She’s so fucking warm and wet, clinging to him as she shuffles to get good leverage on top of him to bounce.

Bloody fucking hell does she feel good. “That’s it, pretty. Take it all,” he encourages her while she whimpers above him- if he angles himself just right he can grind her clit against him in a way that has her sucking down air and shivering.

She’s so good for him but he knows there’s only so long she can bounce in his lap- even resting on one knee on the couch and her other foot on the floor so she can shift her weight and give leg a break every now and then, Simon throwing his head back and groaning loudly.

It’s one of the only times he’s particularly verbose- Usually content to be silent and broody unless he has a specific question in mind, the bedroom (or in this case the living room) is the one place where he is a chatterbox. The mouth on him is surreal at times, and while one would think his sweet girl would be use to the filth every now and then he’ll catch her off guard with some particularly out of pocket comment.

For now though, he’s a bit reserved- doesn’t want to go from zero to a hundred out of nowhere.

No, for now his attention is focused on the goddess bouncing on his cock, wondering if he can get her to squirt a second time if he just- he shifts underneath her, changing the angle and fucking hell does that seem to do the trick for her. Swiping one of his thumbs across his tongue before pressing it to her clit and circling again, Simon can’t help the smug look on his face when she squeals. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck,” he grunts as he thrusts up into her. From how those pretty thighs are trembling, her legs are about to give out as he fucks into her. 

“Simon!” She’s yelping his name with glassy eyes and a clenching cunt “Fuck- Simon! Please-”

She doesn’t have the energy to get herself back up again- poor thing, her thighs must be burning, and he can’t help but be a cocky fuck about the fact that she loves riding his dick to the point that she physically can’t keep going.

“On your back, sweetheart,” he instructs with a light swat to her ass- appreciating the way her body jiggles at the impact.

His sweet girl has done so well and worked so hard, it’s only right that he rewards her. Once she’s on her back he grips her under her knees and folds her legs back- gives himself room between those gorgeous thighs.

“Fuck, baby- please don’t stop,” she pants underneath him, back arching in pleasure as his mouth drops to her breasts again. Her arms wrap loosely around his neck, and he twitches in anticipation at the feel of her nails tracing ever so lightly against his back.

“Not gonna stop, pretty girl.” he groans against her skin, alternating between which nipple he has between his teeth.

Fuck she’s clenching down on him like a vice. He knows she’s getting close; squirming in his grip, keeping her legs nice and spread for him. The feel of her nails reaching down his back and dragging up his spine pulls a groan that would be embarrassing if Simon could find it within himself to care in the slightest. The slight pain encourages him as he cants against her.

“Simon!” The sound of his hips knocking into the back of her thighs is loud and messy. Fuck he’s such a goner when she looks up at him with that sweet expression on her face- pure adoration and wonder in her eyes.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fucking hell, love,” he grunts out, a second wind reinvigorating him when she starts shaking. Those plush thighs shaking in his hold as he knocks the sense out of her pretty head, he’s so fucking close he can taste it but is determined to get her across the finish line first.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he purrs in her ear, “You feel fucking perfect taking my cock. This wet cunt’s all mine, innit?”

All she can do is chant “Yes! Yes! Yes!” over and over again- Simon’s not sure if even she is certain if she’s repeating the word to answer him, or if she’s just babbling because he’s making her feel good and she’s getting close.

“You gonna cum again love? Gonna soak me, hm?” He’s just running his mouth now- knows the shit she likes to hear, reaffirmed by the way she’s shivering in his hold and crying for it with a glassy eyed gaze.

Whatever she is going to respond with is cut off with a squeal. Simon rears back, enjoying the show as she makes a mess all over his cock with her eyes rolled back. He lets go of one of her legs in favor of teasing her clit just shy of overstimulation to prolong her orgasm- she lets him for a time before her hands abandon shredding his back in favor of wrapping around his wrist in a plea for mercy. 

“Simon it’s too much,” she laments with teary eyes as he pulls his hand away with a chuckle and a chaste kiss. 

He stays curled over her, hips driving into hers. “Tell me where you want it,” he instructs.

“Inside! Please, I want it inside!” Her answer is sharp and immediate, the leg not pinned to her chest wrapping around his waist like she is daring him to even try to pull out.

And fuck there is something cathartic about his orgasm when it hits. Burying his face in her soft body while his hips snapped into hers a few times, Simon groans as his vision damn near whites out for a second.

Simon knows better than most that there’s good days and bad days- and a presumed good day can become a bad day quicker than one can blink. But overall he feels like consistently she’s doing better all around. They take their time calming down, Simon showering her in attention and getting a feel for where her head is at. Praising her for how well she did and making sure she feels stable.

He lets out a breath, feeling confident that she’s settled, having a good day, and everything is fine for now. 

And it is. Until about two hours later.

One moment they’re finishing the movie they’d initially started before the impromptu romp on the couch, and then Simon has a 3 second warning of her sniffling as she obviously tries to fight back the tears and then she’s sobbing harder than she has in weeks.

Simon goes from content to concerned in a second, his blood turning to ice in his veins. His immediate assumption is that their prior activities finally caught up with her mentally and now that she’s had time to think it over it wasn’t good. It was too fucking soon to have sex. He should have told her no, should have been gentler, should have-

“Sweetheart? Talk to me,” his voice is tinged with a thinly controlled concern (not panic he convinces himself) and while he means to comfort her, she can hear his tone and that just sets her off anew.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she blubbers, turning to face him. “I don’t know why I’m crying!”

That settles Simon’s nerves somewhat, stroking her back and pulling her close to comfort her. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” he soothes her, listening to her sniffle against his shirt after shoving her into the crook of his neck.

“I just want to feel normal again,” she sobs into his collar.

“You will, love,” he assures her- never mind that ‘normal’ is something that even he struggles with on a near daily basis. “It’ll take time but you’ll get there. I promise.”

He’s a bastard for making a promise to her that he can’t guarantee to keep. There’s a part of him that knows that- hell, he’s been working on his shit for years and he still doesn’t feel normal most days.

But while he can’t promise that she’ll ever get back to feeling exactly the same as she did before all of this happened, he can promise that he’ll be by her side and ensure she’s adjusting. It will take time, and work, but Simon will make sure she gets there one step at a time.

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 6

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

Sorry this chapter took much longer than usual. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share this on the page but y'all might already know... I'm a nurse. So my schedule is nice because I only work 3 days or nights a week but... sometimes those days/nights knock me on my ass. This week was no exception.

I really appreciate every single person who has liked, reblogged, and commented on my work. It means EVERYTHING to me. I hope you all enjoy this part!

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 2.2k+

You had been flipped to nights this week and your body was suffering from the sudden change to your circadian rhythm. You and Carly walked to the parking garage in exhausted silence together as the sun rose over the hospital. It was a hard night to say the least, you both were assigned to unstable elderly patients that seemed to be circling the drain. It almost felt cruel to keep them from dying peacefully because there was no way they were ever going to get better. The life sustaining care you were forced to give was just prolonging the inevitable. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Bradley tried to text you when he woke up at 5am for work to ask how your shift was going. You quickly responded that it was crazy and that you couldn’t talk until you got off at 7:30.

Bradley Bradshaw: Please tell me you’re out of there and able to see this incredible sun rise

You: I am, thank God! I love San Diego sunrises

“Who’s that?” Carly peered over at your phone and saw the name, “Oh my god! He’s checking in on you post shift?!”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s his second time checking in on me, he texted me when he got up earlier but I said things were too crazy on the unit to talk.”

“What happened between you two then?” She asked, “You said he didn’t stay the night or anything.”

You knew she was going to ask for more information soon enough. You two were on your feet caring for your patients all night so there was no time to catch up at the nurse’s station. “He didn’t. But we hung out for a while, talked, drank a lot of wine, and he couldn’t drive himself home. So he took an Uber and then took me to brunch when he came to pick up his car.”

“He didn’t kiss you?” She asked.

You shook your head, “Nope, didn’t after brunch either.”

“Huh,” she looked puzzled, “He’s obviously so into you, we could all see it at the bar. And he took you out on a date. And he’s texting you first thing when he wakes up… he obviously likes you. Why hasn’t he kissed you?!?!”

You shrugged, “I mean, maybe he isn’t and he just wants to be friends. I also feel like dating a former patient probably breaks some kind of nursing ethics code.”

It was something that occurred to you after brunch with Bradley the day before, the possibility of this flirtation messing with your professional life.

Carly’s face dropped when the two of you stopped at your car, “Oh my god… I hadn’t even thought of that.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, “Yeah… so I’ve gotta ask you and I’d like you to pass it on to Madi and Sam too, not to discuss Saturday or my… friendship with Bradley at work.”

She nodded, “Of course, I’m sorry I even brought it up briefly when we got on the unit last night.”

“It’s okay, no one was around to hear. I’m just not very well liked by the senior nurses and some of the providers. I just don’t want to give them something to talk about, you know?” You explained.

“Absolutely. When is your contract up?” She asked.

“4 weeks, they asked me to extend though.” You rubbed your eyes, desperately trying to stay awake.

“Are you gonna do it? Or is it too early in the morning to talk about this?” She giggled.

You nodded, “Bingo. Let’s leave this as ‘to be continued’.”

“Alright, get home safe.” She waved you off and headed towards her car a few spots away. 

Once in your Toyota Corolla and buckled, you blasted loud music and freezing cold AC to keep you awake and alert on your commute home. Once there you peaked at your phone.

Bradley Bradshaw: Now that you’ve enjoyed the sunrise, you gotta get your ass to bed.

You: Yes sir, I’ll be out of commission until 1500 hours.

When you arrived home, you looked at your phone again to see Bradley replied with the saluting emoji. You dragged yourself out of the car and up to your apartment, in front of your door was a plastic takeout bag. The parcel was still warm when you picked it up, it was clearly left there just minutes ago. You blinked through your exhausted blurry vision and saw a note typed in the comments on the receipt… it was from the same place you had brunch with Bradley two days before.

“After working through the night, you deserve a true Californian breakfast and a nap. —Bradshaw”

This may be one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for you in a while. You were so exhausted, you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you caught a whiff of the parcel. When you entered your apartment, you threw your bag down and went straight to the kitchen. You opened the bag to find a breakfast burrito neatly wrapped in aluminum foil, Bradley’s go to menu item. Maybe it was because of the surprise of it waiting for you at the door or because you were absolutely starving, but that thing tasted better than sex. You started your post night shift ritual with a shower. After brushing your teeth, doing your skin care, and changing into comfy clothes, you drew the black out curtains in your room, turned on the sound machine, and set an alarm for 2pm before popping a melatonin gummy. After many years as a nurse and often flipping between days and nights, you had this sleep ritual down to an absolute science.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

Y/N <3: thank you so much for breakfast. That may be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.

Rooster’s heart fluttered when the message flashed across his phone around 8AM. The Dagger Squad had just finished running a drill that ended with 200 push ups. That small rush made him forget how his muscles were screaming at him. He went to reply and saw the “do not disturb” icon was on. He was so glad since that meant Y/N was most likely sleeping. So he left a reply for her to wake up to.

Bradley: I’m glad it came just in time! Hope you’re taking the best nap ever :)

“Is that sexy nurse?” Natasha inquired as she peered over his shoulder.

Rooster rolled his eyes, “Phoenix, she has a name… and that’s none of your business.”

“So yes,” she smirked, “you are texting her.”

“I’m replying to her,” he corrected, “she worked all night last night and is on again tonight. So she won’t get it until she wakes up.”

She stood on her tip toes to get a better look at the screen, “You sent her breakfast?!?!”

Bradley was not loving this line of questioning but he knew he had to answer or Phoenix would never lay off, “I sent UberEats for her to come home too.”

“You are down bad, my friend.” She shook her head.

“Am not.” He quipped back.

“ Are too!” She shoved him.

“That’s not fair Phoenix, just cause you’re one of the boys doesn’t mean I’ll stoop low enough to shove a woman.” He groaned.

She chuckled, “You’re just scared to get your shit rocked, Bradshaw.”

Hangman suddenly appeared beside Phoenix, skillfully placing her in a headlock. “Is this little lady giving you trouble, Rooster?”

She squirmed and screamed, “Hangman, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Ya know Phoenix,” he sighed, “Forever the bully.”

Phoenix reached over and Hangman a firm tap in the junk, causing him to jump and release her.

Rooster couldn’t help but smile as the two of them fought like siblings.

“I was asking him about the hot nurse from the other night.” She explained, “He’s texting her and sent breakfast to her place for her to come home to after work.”

Hangman’s face lit up, “Bradley, Bradley, Bradley… I never thought I’d see the day. You’re courtin’ a fine lady.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, “Courting is a strong word. I’m showing her that I’m… kinda interested.”

Hangman and Phoenix gave each other knowing looks.

Natasha nodded, “Uh huh, yeah. Sureeeeee.”

2pm rolled around and Bradley was wrapping up his work day on base.

Y/N <3: Not the best nap ever but pretty damn good. I’m gonna walk on the beach and get some sunshine before it’s back to the dungeon for the night. What are you up to for the rest of the day?

Should he shoot his shot? She wouldn’t keep engaging with him if she wasn’t at least a little interested, right?

Bradley: Joining you for a walk on the beach if you’ll allow it.

Y/N <3: I would love that. What time can you be at my place?

This was good. This was really good. She’s invited him back to her place. 

Bradley: I gotta change out of my uniform and stuff, how does 3 sound?

Y/N <3: Perfect, I’ll see you soon :)

Rooster had an extra skip in his step as he packed up his things, grateful for the 6am start allowing his work day to have an early finish. Once in his Bronco, he sped home to change into some casual clothes. He decided to really shake it up and not wear his usual Hawaiian shirt and jeans combo. A UVA t-shirt and some gym shorts seemed a lot more appropriate for a casual beach walk. Bradley really couldn’t believe he was putting that much thought into what he wore for something so casual. 

When he walked up to her door he could hear music through it. Whatever Y/N was listening to, she was clearly jamming. When he knocked, she quickly called out, “It’s open!”. He got a better listen to the music once the door was open, it was high energy with a… saxophone? It was kind of lit.

“What is this?” Bradley asked, “It’s awesome!”

“Modern Woman by Bleachers,” she entered the living room wearing a similar outfit to his, a university t-shirt and gym shorts, “Isn’t it great? Kinda gives me Springsteen vibes.”

He paused and listened a little more, “Yes, that’s spot on!”

“Let me just make sure I have my life together for work, so I can just change and leave later.” She said, heading toward the kitchen.

He took another good look at her as she took her lunchbox, water bottle, and an energy drink from the fridge and set it out on the counter. Fresh faced from her nap, hair in a bun, shorts and a t-shirt… he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Y/N paused for a moment and looked over at Rooster, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my face?”  

He shook his head, “Yes, everything’s great… you look great.”

She smiled shyly and continued her task, “Thank you, Bradley… are you ready to head to the beach?”

“Hell yeah,” he asked, “which beach are we headed to?”

“Nothing fancy, just the beach a few blocks away.” She shrugged, “Hope you don’t mind tagging along on my normal, boring jaunt.”

He shook his head, “Y/N, nothing with you could be boring. I’d have fun watching paint dry.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

The two of you walked along the shoreline; the waves ebbed and flowed across the sand and towards your feet. The wind whipped across your face and through your hair, making it dance wildly. Bradley looked so handsome beside you, you couldn’t help but stare and hope that maybe it would be less obvious since you had sunglasses on.

“I should start doing this more, it’s much more pleasant than running.” He chuckled to himself, “It’s so peaceful.”

You giggled, “Drinking bleach is more pleasant than running, in my opinion.”

“You’re not a runner?” He asked.

“Not unless something’s chasing me.” You quipped.

A smirk slowly crept across Bradley’s face. You weren’t exactly sure what was going through his head but you felt the sudden urge to start sprinting. Next thing you knew he was hot on your heels and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly, running on sand was so freaking hard! Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off your feet with ease.

“BRADSHAW!!!” You cried out through your giggles, leaning your head back on his shoulder behind you.

His face burrowed into your neck, “You say you’re not a runner but you’re pretty speedy.”

You turned your head to look at him, nose to nose, still giggling breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said simply.

It was like two magnets, your lips crashed into his, there was no force that could stop it. Once you realized what you did, you quickly pulled away, “I’m so sorry.”

He placed you gently back on your feet, “Y/N, the only thing you owe me an apology for is stopping.”

Your stomach fluttered, “Soooo… you wanna do it again?”

“Kiss me, you fool.” He chuckled, grabbing you by the cheeks and stroking them sweetly with his thumb.

You stepped closer so you two were chest to chest and gently brushed your lips against his. With a jolt of pure electricity, you pressed deeper into his kiss. It wasn’t until this moment, when you tasted his lips, that you realized how fucking starving you were.

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[natashaslesbian]

Baby Bear

Summary: Natasha takes care of you when you wake up sick

Word Count: 1.1k

Parings: (Natasha x Reader)

Warnings: light description of flu symptoms

————

The earliest sound of the morning was always the birds outside, it was closely followed by Natasha’s 5am alarm. The redhead awoke to the hum of her morning alert, reaching over quickly to silence it. You stirred and shuffled slightly, it was too early for you to be awake. “Sorry baby” Natasha whispered as she leaned over to you “go back to sleep sweetheart” she said as she brushed her hand over your forehead. Natasha felt a warmth radiating from your skin and placed the back of her hand across your head to gage your temperature. You were defiantly warm, but Natasha didn’t fully trust her just awoken state and decided she would check on you after a shower.

It was 6am now and you had been stirring for the last hour, not quite awake but failing to fall back into a comfortable sleep. There was an ache behind your eyes and you rubbed them sore to will it away, rolling over to huddle against your girlfriends pillow. Natasha was finished with her shower, and was also ready for her work day. The widow came back from the kitchen after her morning coffee to check on you again. You mumbled slightly as Nat’s weight forced you to roll over slightly. Natasha placed her hand against your forehead once again and was immediately alarmed at the more extreme heat coming from you. “Y/n baby” she cooed “wake up for me sweetheart” you groaned as your girlfriend gently shook you awake. “No Natty” you whimpered roughly, followed by a small cough. “Sweetheart I think your sick, you’ve got a fever” Natasha said as she ran her fingers through your hair.

The morning sun hadn’t quite hit your bedroom yet, so a nice warm light welcomed you when you opened your eyes. “‘M fine Nat” you whispered, slightly annoyed that you had been woken up so early for no reason. “You’re really warm baby” Natasha said, her voice laced with concern “can you sit up for me” you sighed loudly as you pulled your sore body up to be next to Nat, ignoring the ache behind your eyes that hadn’t seemed to have gone away. “See I’m fine” you slurred “y/n you can barely look at me” Nat said. “That’s because I just woke up” you huffed in annoyance. “I’m gonna go make you some soup” your girlfriend said with a gentle kiss against your hairline. “Fine” you shrugged her off, just wanting to fall back into your duvet.

Once Natasha had set off to start your breakfast you figured you may as well get up now that you were awake. You stumbled over to your dresser, where you grabbed one of Natasha’s oversized hoodies. You felt a slight dizziness as you pulled the hoodie over your face, having to reach out and hold the dresser so you didn’t fall over. A coughing got caught you of guard as you came back over to make the bed. You were still sure that you weren’t sick, you had just woken up and that’s why you felt so groggy. Natasha had instructed you to wait in bed but you wanted to prove to her that you were fine. The grogginess didn’t seem to fade as you made your way to the stairs, you held on tightly to the rail as you plodded heavily down to meet your girlfriend.

The gentle tune of the radio drowned out your coming presence and Natasha nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a grumble by the stairs. You were so close to the bottom when your vision went dark, your feet gave out on you and if you hadn’t been holding on so tight you would’ve landed right on your face. “Y/n?” Natasha said as she rounded the corner to see you leaning against the wall. Your eyes were already teary and you wanted nothing more than to be in Nat’s embrace. The redhead quickly approached you when she saw your eyes fade again “y/n!” She exclaimed as she caught you under the arms and lifted you back to your feet. “Natty I don’t feel good” you whispered, letting the widow carry all of your weight. “Oh I know baby bear, it’s okay, come here” Natasha said as she picked you up in her strong arms and carried you through to the living room, making sure to take the soup off the stove so it didn’t burn.

You were deposited on the soft cushions and whined at the loss of your girlfriend’s warmth “shhh, you’re okay sweetheart, I’ll be right back” Natasha cooed. She was back as soon as she had promised and placed a cool damp cloth over your forehead. “No it’s cold” you mumbled “I’m sorry y/n we just need to get your temperature down” you groaned slightly but allowed your girlfriend to smooth the cloth down over your forehead as she gentle brushed your cheek. “Close your eyes baby, get some rest” Natasha cooed as you began to settle “I’m gonna call Fury and let him know I can’t come in today, and I’ll wake you up for soup in a little bit okay?” She finished. “M’kay Natty” you said through a yawn as you allowed sleep to consume you again.

Fury allowed Natasha all the time she needed to help nurse you back to health, and she finished your soup with a final pinch of love. Usually, the smell of vegetable soup would have you awake in seconds, it being your favourite soup of all, but your nose was so stuffy that even in your sleep you were deeply breathing through an open mouth. You finally woke up when Natasha began tracing her forefinger along the bridge of your nose “hi little bear” she said as she helped you so sit up. “How do you feel?” Nat asked as she reached for the damp cloth, happy with the result of your less warm forehead. “Feel gross” you said through a shaky voice. Natasha pulled you into her lap and placed the warm soup on a tray over your lap. “You think you can try something to eat?” She asked. You nodded slowly as you reached for the spoon.

You managed half of the bowl before your throat was begging you to stop. “Good job sweetheart” Natasha said in understanding as she moved the soup back to the coffee table. At times Natasha felt that she was babying you slightly but deep down you were enjoying the attention. “I think we should get you in the shower baby” your girlfriend said, “can we just cuddle please?” You asked with your best puppy eyes, you knew Natasha wouldn’t be able to resist. “Okay baby bear, let’s snuggle” Natasha whispered into your hairline. Your girlfriend shifted her position to lay along the couch and pulled you with her so that you were laying atop her soft skin. The two of you contently cuddled up for the rest of the day (at least until Natasha made you take a shower to help with your temperature) you made your way through countless movies and wrapped yourself around Natasha’s body, where you spent the next few days.

————

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

[leilani-lily]

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 3)

So I'll admit, this one got a bit long (¬////¬) I hope that's ok, but there's a little treat at the end so I promise it's worth it.

Also. Should mention. This next chapter implies DEATH and CANNIBALISM so ｡°⚠︎°｡ please be warned!! ｡°⚠︎°｡

Other than that, please enjoy the next chapter, and let me know what you think thus-far (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. You start your first shift at an ungodly hour and brew a fresh pot of coffee to help you get through it. Alastor happens to come by and joins you for a cup. You discuss various topics, including how you died. Word Count: 3.5 K

Chapter under the cut!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You pour the freshly ground beans into the coffee maker and flicked the switch.

It’s too damn early to be awake right now. 

You yawn and stretch as you lean against the kitchen counter, waiting for that liquid gold to stop brewing so you could drown your sleepy sorrows. Normally you’d never be caught up and awake at 5am, but here you were. 

Charlie had set a schedule for when each round of meals should be prepared: Breakfast from 7-10, lunch from 11-2, and dinner from 4-7. When you first went over the schedule, it all made perfect sense and you thought nothing more. Until you realized very too late that breakfast STARTING at 7am meant you had to be up and cooking at ungodly hours.

You wipe your bleary eyes and feel yourself sagging from fatigue, but soon enough the warm smell of coffee began to enter your senses, and you felt a little more relieved. At least you had coffee. Coffee was your best friend.

You grab a cup and (inset how you make coffee) before grabbing the finished pot and topping your mug up. You sigh in relief as you sink into the stool at the kitchen’s island, taking your first sip and feeling the warmth coat your throat. Bleary eyes blink happily as you sit hunched over, mug clutched in your hands and close to your chest. You just needed this one mug to wake up, then after you would start prepping for breakfast.

You were only sitting a moment before you heard the click clack of steps coming down the hall, alerting you to sit up more straight. Somebody was already awake? On purpose?? The footsteps slowly got louder the closer the unknown entity walked towards the kitchen. They suddenly stopped for a moment, filling the air with an eerie silence. Before long, the footsteps continued to close in before finally a tall form clad in red stepped into the doorway. It was Alastor.

“I thought I smelt the delicious roast of freshly made coffee~!”

You blew out the breath of air you didn’t realize you were holding. With a warm smile, you get up off your stool. “Good morning Alastor, may I pour you a cup?”

Alastor’s eyes seemed to light up at the idea. “Why, you certainly may~! Just black would be delightful, thank you.” He twirled his microphone as he walked up to the kitchen island, settling on the stool beside you on the corner. You give a polite nod and grab another mug. You could feel his eyes burning into you from behind, so you begin light conversation.

“Did you sleep ok? I’m surprised to see anyone awake this early in the morning.”

You turn back to Alastor and hand him the new full mug, his eyes seeming to dance as you hand him The Precious. “Indeed I did! Though I’ve never been much of a heavy sleeper. Only ever need a couple of winks before I’m back on my feet.” He took his first sip and sat for a moment, savouring the flavour until giving a sigh.

“Still better than conjured coffee, but not quite the same as what I remember.”

You cock your head curiously and sit back down on your stool, your own mug in hand. “ ‘What you remember?’ ”

Alastor hummed and took a sip, but then turned to you and crossed his legs, leaning one arm on the counter, “Back when I was topside! I had such fine equipment that helped me to brew the perfect cup. I’ve tried to replicate the taste many times now, but they can never seem to measure up.” He looks deep into his mug, as if the answers might be swirling inside. 

You watched him carefully. His life before he had died. You felt a pang of longing for a moment, reminiscing in your own memories before you had dropped down to Hell. Though he didn’t appear to be in pain, you could understand the longing for tasting or feeling things that you had such fond memories of when alive. 

“Still,” Alastor continued, snapping you from your thoughts, “This is one of the better one’s I’ve had. Lately I haven’t had the time to brew a proper cup, so conjured coffee it is,” He snaps his fingers real quick, and a yellow mug poofs from thin air, steaming with what you assume is to be magical coffee. The mug has “Oh Deer” printed on it, and you do your best to hold in your snort. Alastor sneers at the conjured mug.

“Has a strange aftertaste I’m afraid, so to have a homemade cup ready for me to drink is indeed a treat!” He snaps his fingers again and the yellow mug disappears, turning back to you and clutching the cup you gave him closely. He tilted his head to you.

“Is there anything you miss from when you were topside?” 

He must have caught you getting nostalgic earlier, you thought. One thing popped into your head immediately when it came to tastes of the past. Something that you didn’t realize you had missed so desperately until now.

“My mom,” you smile warmly, looking off in the distance as you remember, “she used to make this delicious dessert for me every year for my birthday. ‘Death by Chocolate’... Ironic now huh?” You laugh a moment, and Alastor’s grin widens at the joke. “She always insisted on making it for me without fail, and it was such a simple recipe but it made me so happy.” You feel your grip tighten on your mug. When was the last time you even had that dish?

“Ahhh, yes,” Alastor sighed, “Nothing can truly beat the taste of a mother’s cooking. My own mother was a pro in the kitchen!” he clutched the air making you smile at his antics, “Oh the meals she’d put together for the neighbourhood. Always making sure to feed everyone who was hungry. Her hearty dishes were something quite unmatched.” Alastor takes another sip while you ponder for a moment.

“Is that why jambalaya is your favourite food? Because your mother used to make it?” you ask. Alastor’s eyes open and roll over at you as he sips from his drink, his lips pursing into a smile. Swallowing his mouthful, he gives you an impressed look.

“Well well, quite the clever little lady now aren’t you~?” he grins, making you blush from the compliment. That seemed to amuse the radio demon as he chuckled softly to himself. After a pause, he speaks up again. 

“I must say, from what I can tell so far I’m shocked to even find you down here. Tell me my dear,” he rested his head in his palm, giving you a quizzical look. “How did you end up in Hell?”

Oh God.

You knew this question would come up in conversation eventually… it just wasn’t your proudest moment. You look away as an awkward laugh escaped your throat, making Alastor perk up in curiosity. Well now he had to know.

“Come now my dear,” Alastor crooned, making you look to him hesitantly, “You can trust me! I promise to tell you my story if you tell me yours.” He snaked closer to you until he was on the edge of his seat, not seeming to want to let this go. You eyed him for a moment, before finally giving a sigh of defeat.

“Alright well… I just want you to know now that I don’t do this anymore! It was a one time thing that got me into this whole mess so,” You gesture to your surroundings as if to indicate Hell itself. Alastor leaned back into his stool and faced you attentively, eyes sharply focused on you. You take a sip of coffee before beginning (you suddenly wished for something stronger).

“When I was still alive, I was a local cook for our town’s restaurant. It wasn’t anything fancy or world class, but everyone seemed to enjoy my cooking. Anyways, I always experimented with different ingredients and flavors in my spare time. I tried all different types of things, possum, caribou… Deer,” you wince a moment and you swear you see Alastor’s hair flicker a moment (Hair? Ear? Hairy ear? Ear-y hair?). But his face doesn’t change and he remained quiet, so you continue.

“Anyways, I wanted to find a flavor that no one had tasted before. Something really off the map and challenging to work with so…” you look back to Alastor briefly, who only nodded at you to continue. “... I managed to find something very different. Very… human-y.”

You could see the lightbulb switch in Alastor’s brain as a screeching microphone sound played. His eyes slowly grew wide and his spine straightened, his smile growing even wider. You could feel yourself panicking and begin to babble.

“So when it came time to taste test it, I guess I hadn’t done as good of a job picking the bones out as I thought,” you were sweating at this point, “Cause in the end I found myself choking on… his… thumb.” You stared into your coffee cup. You didn’t dare look at Alastor. The way you died was so embarrassing. Other people got shot or stabbed. You fucking killed yourself by not mincing properly. 

There was a long awkward pause as you wait for his reaction, sweat starting to pool on your forehead. Alastor suddenly burst into laughter, his hand clutching his stomach as he leaned back into his stool. Yep, there it is. You groan to yourself as your head falls into your hands. The radio demon got in a good few guffaws before turning back to you.

“My dear,” he laughs, “How do you simply ‘find’ a human body??” His response shocked you, you thought he’d be more focused on the choking part. With a ‘matter of fact’ expression, you reply:

“Oh, well I killed a guy.” 

“... W-WHAT?!”

Alastor keeled over on the kitchen counter, shoulders shaking as a new wave of laughs overcome him. Realizing how wrong that came out, you became very defensive.

“Well- ! He deserved it!” You bellowed, “He practically stalked me at the restaurant, he was creepy to the waitresses, some who were MINORS mind you! He was a huge dickwad and nobody liked him anyways! So I-!” 

“Y-you decided to serve him up on a platter as a new dinner special~?” Alastor was giddy with joy.

“What?! Oh my god, NO!” you scream, standing from your stool suddenly and cheeks blazing red. Alastor’s laughing track had now kicked in as he started gasping for air. “JESUS I would NEVER force anyone into that! It was a one time thing I swear!” You cross your arms and huff, turning away from him, “After I died I vowed never to do that again and have been a ‘clean’ cook ever since.”

Alastors laughter was finally dying down into shakey snickers, wiping a tear from his eye and the laughing track fading away. You were so embarrassed and angry at yourself. See, this is why you didn’t tell people! It was one of the worst decisions in your life, and now you had to pay for it in an eternity in Hell. One stupid mistake and then karma kicked you in the ass.

“W-well my dear,” Alastor had finally composed himself, straightening out his jacket and grinning with delight. “I’ll admit I didn’t think you had it in you; who would’ve thought a girl so charming as yourself could be capable of such wickedness~?”

Though you knew he meant it as a compliment, it didn’t feel like one. You sighed and sat back down at your stool defeated. Alastor noticed and lifted your chin with a knuckle.

“Awhhh chin up my dear~!” he smiled, “You said so yourself that the man you killed was unjust and a stain on the world, so think of yourself as a hero! You saved your waitress friends from ever being harassed by him again!” He looked at you almost with a sense of pride, and you knew deep down he was trying to make you feel better. Still, this topic was one of the things that you knew you’d regret forever. 

“How about this,” Alastor pulled his hand away, “Why don’t I tell you how I ended up here? I’m sure it will make you feel less like a monster.” Now that piqued your curiosity. Less like a monster? You had murdered someone. And cooked him! What could possibly be worse than that?? You found yourself leaning in closer, ready to hear his story. Alastor chuckled in amusement and leaned back, crossing his legs. 

“Now then. The reason I’m down here is because,” his eyes flashed open and he looked you square in the face.

“I’m a serial killer.”

There was a long, heavy pause as you let that sink in. Oh. 

 … Oh. 

“R-right,” you stutter, “Y-you mean you WERE a serial killer… right?” your throat suddenly felt very tight. Alastors head flung back as a single laugh burst from his mouth, only for him to look back down at you grinning and half lidded.

“No~”

… Well then. Strangely enough that did make you feel better about your sins. Granted you were slightly terrified now, but oddly enough it did do the trick. He was WAY worse off than you.

“As to how I died,” Alastor continued on, completely unbothered by his previous statement, “I was shot one night while burying one of my victims.” he leaned closer to you and blinked, a tiny red x suddenly starting to glow in the middle of his forehead. You gasped at the sight, secretly wanting to touch it but daring not to.

“A hunter had mistaken me for a ruminant of sorts, and that's how I ended up here.” He blinked again, and the x began to fade back into his skin. 

You were enthralled by his tale. His way of dying was so much cooler than yours. Your gaze from his forehead slowly traveled up to the top of his head, where two little black horns peeked out from his hair.

“Huh. So that’s why you have these little antlers here-!”

You didn’t even think. You weren’t even aware of your actions until it was too late. You had reached out and the tips of your fingers had barely even caressed his antlers until his hand suddenly snatched your wrist. There was a chill in the air as you felt all the oxygen being sucked out of it. The lights flickered as Alastors background static stopped all together, the kitchen falling deadly quiet. His eyes burned crimson as his gaze flicked to your outstretched hand, before his death glare zipped back to you. His yellowed grin had creeked up so high on his face you thought it would crack. His body grew longer and began to fill the room, shadows beginning to fill the room. You could feel yourself start to tremble as his eyes bore into you.

“Careful, my dear,” Alastor hissed, his radio voice coming out slightly distorted, “Others have died ₣ØⱤ ₣₳Ɽ ₴₥₳ⱠⱠɆⱤ ⱤɆ₳₴Ø₦₴.”

You felt his grip tighten on your wrist and a shiver ran down your spine. You had never seen this side of Alastor before. And in that moment you truly believed he was the serial killer he claimed to be. You gave a quick nod of your head, your heart racing in your chest and your wrist beginning to ache from the hold he had on you.

The radio demon's bloodshot eyes flickered over you for a moment more before his body finally began to shrink in size, the shadows slowly melting away and the lights returning to normal. Eventually he returned back to his default state and let go of your wrist. You pulled it back immediately and clutched it against your chest, your heart pounding as your skin prickled. 

Alastor leaned back in his chair and stared at you, his eyes calculating and grin sharp. His fingers tapped the top of his microphone as he appeared in deep thought. You looked back at him, still scared but also wondering what was going on in that mind of his. Was he thinking of ways to kill you? Oh fuck, was he going to fire you? You felt yourself swallow dryly. He looked you over once. Twice. Eyes squinting a moment before he speaks again.

“You’re lucky that I like you y/n.” Alastor stated, making you blink in confusion, “You have passion, spunk, brains, and a hard-working spirit. And though you ended up in hell, I sense a kindness in you that is rare to find down here.”

… Were you having a stroke? Did Alastor kill you already and you were just dreaming? What in the actual Hell was going on. 

“Having said that…” Alastor began to lean closer to you, making you flinch, “I’ve decided to allow you to touch them this one time, and this one time only. However,” He closed one eye but let the other open, his pupil suddenly glowing and threatening to burn you.

“If you touch anything else I will break all your fingers off before shoving them down. your. throat.”

You got the message. You quickly nod your head again, too scared your voice will betray you. Alastor glared at you for a couple seconds more before closing his other eye, presenting his antlers to you. You looked at them for a long time, hands itching to touch them but still feeling nervous. You take a gulp and ask with a croaky voice:

“Are… Are you sure I’m allowed to-!” 

“Don’t make me change my mind, y/n.” Alastor replied flatly, his eyebrow twitching with annoyance. 

“Ah yep okie.” you stutter, taking the hint and finally reaching out. You hand hovers over the antlers for just a brief moment before finally grazing them with a feather-like touch. 

You were shocked to feel just how velvety they were. The slight fuzz on them wasn’t what you were expecting, and soon you found your hand drifting over the curves of the bone. It was so soft, and surprisingly warm and soothing to the touch. It wasn’t long before you were gently stroking the antler between your fingers and thumb. Your other hand itched to join in, so you hesitantly raised your other arm and slightly grazed the other antler. Alastor’s eye twitched for a moment, but he made no other move, so you took that as a good sign. 

Soon both of your hands were rubbing his two black antlers, your inner child giddy with the warmth and texture. You rolled the tips between your fingers, your thumbs glided over every curve it could touch. Your hands occasionally brushed over Alastor's hair and you couldn’t help but admire how soft it felt on your wrists. You sneaked a peek down at the man in question and tried to repress a smile. 

Eyes still closed, his wide grin had actually softened a little; his eyelids drawn shut and looking heavy. The static noise that usually buzzed in the background had hushed down to a lower decibel. Even his head in your grasp seemed a little heavier; was he actually enjoying this?

His ear fluttered against your hand (you were now convinced those things were indeed ears) and you so badly wanted to stroke those too. If his antlers were soft, imagine how soft his ears would be?? And if rubbing his antlers felt good, you bet stroking his ears would feel even better.

But you dared not risk it. He had made himself very clear from the beginning that he had personal boundaries, and you had to respect them. 

“Times up~!” 

Alastor’s eyes popped open and he pulled back abruptly ending… whatever that was. You felt a tinge of disappointment as his antlers left your grasp, but you felt like it was probably for the best. You could’ve kept petting them for hours. 

His eyes flickered to the side of the kitchen, refusing to meet your gaze, and one of his ears flickering again subconsciously. You stifled a giggle in your throat. Poor guy. You were pretty sure he liked that more than he wanted to let on. You decided to put him out of his misery.

“Thank you Alastor, you really do have lovely antlers.” you bow your head to him slightly. That seemed to perk him up. Alastor smiled proudly, clearly aware of how nice they were and happy for your acknowledgement.

“And I’m sorry about invading your personal space earlier,” your smile faltered a bit as you looked away, feeling sheepish about being so intrusive earlier, “clearly I wasn’t thinking straight…” You felt a friendly pat on the top of your head.

“Bah, it’s water under the bridge my friend, no need to worry your little head over it.”

You felt your eyes widen in surprise. 

Friend. 

Your lips curled up into a smile. You had to admit, you didn’t expect your first friend at the hotel to be the quirky serial killer. But so far he has surprised you in more ways than one. And you were happy to continue to learn more about this mysterious demon you had somehow befriended. 

“Now, what's on the menu for today y/n, I’m practically starved! Man-cakes and eggs perhaps~?”

“Alastor I swear to GOD.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

And with that, that's all the chapter's I have written for now. I hope to be able to write again soon. Your patience is appreciated (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

Thanks for reading! Please like, comment, and reblog! And let me know what you think so far ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡

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PREVIOUS

NEXT

[drpoisonoaky]

Training routine

Azula is... a person made by routine. She starts training every day at 5am.

But one day she said said “None of you, menaces to society, can do it too” so they try to prove her wrong.

Azula: Oh you made it. Sokka: Of course. Azula: But you look like shit.

Sokka: Well, I didn't sleep, so I can be awake right now. Azula: You didn’t sleep? How do you pretend to follow my training session? Sokka: To be honest, I didn’t think I’d made it this far and I’m too tired to even care anymore.

Suki: Ok smart-ass let 's begin. Azula: You look awake. Suki: I am. You’re not the only one who usually does this.  Azula: I know it’s not a Kyoshi warrior thing because I know Ty Lee.  Suki: It’s my thing. Believe or not I’m more than a “fan girl”. Azula: And she has humor too. Suki: So? Azula: Honestly, you were the only one in that group that I knew was capable of doing my training. So if you want to go and do your thing, it wouldn't change my mind or what I'm going to say to them. Suki: I’m here for your training. We will do that. Azula: Hmn. Suki: What are you waiting for? Azula: Fine pretty girl. Let’s start meditating.

Toph: I know you’re nuts but this is madness. Why do you have to start to do this so early?! Azula: Good morning to you too. When do you want me to do it? Toph: I don’t know, in the afternoon or after breakfast. Azula: After breakfast, I have to read the scrolls for the meetings that will take place that day. I have two hours to do this, and if I don't need all that time, I do paperwork. Azula: Then the meetings start. Usually everything for the day is set before lunch. Toph: Have lunch later and train there. Azula: After lunch I have to appear in several places in Caldera. You know, publicly blah, blah, blah. Toph: When you finish, you can train there and you can use it to relax. Azula: After that I have to have dinner. Toph: I’m pretty sure you can have dinner later. Azula: Dinner is with Katara. We hardly see each other during the day. Toph: So train after dinner. Azula: No. Toph: Why? Azula: Because that time is usually reserved for Katara and is non-negotiable. Toph: Her words or yours? Azula: Your poi- Don’t you dare to do a whip sound. Toph: Sure, domesticated prissy princess. Azula: Enough of this small talk. We have lost so much time already. Toph: And we don’t want to reduce your Katara time. Azula: Horse stance NOW.

Ty lee: Good Morning. Azula: At least open your eyes first. Ty lee: I train like this. Azula: You train in your pyjamas? Ty lee:  Azula: Go to sleep. Ty lee:  Azula: You tried and you are not a menace. Well, you never were, because you weren't included in that statement. Why are you here? Ty Lee: I'm too tired to shout at you, but in 3-4 hours, be prepared.

(Mai didn’t try it or even talk about it)

Aang: Good morning Azula! Azula: Oh, you look fresh? Aang: Is that a surprise? Azula: Yes. Let’s train. Aang: Sure, but it wouldn't kill you to say good morning too.

…

Azula: We'll see how Zuzu does, but by far you and Suki deserve a bit more respect from me. Aang: Thank you! That's nice, I guess. So if Zuko does well, you would give him more credit? Azula: Of course not.

Zuko: Of all of the things you have done to me, this is the most evil. Azula: Aren’t you a morning person? Zuko: Yes but when it’s morning. THE SUN IS NOT EVEN THERE. Azula: Don't worry, Zuzu, the sun will be there when we're done.

…

Azula: Zuzu, can you please stop throwing up, I want to have a bath and then breakfast. Zuko: I hate you. Azula: Don’t worry, you aren’t the only menace, you should have seen Sokka. Zuko: Aang? Azula: Nah, he did it well. Zuko: Suki? Azula: Don’t do this to yourself Zuko.

Katara, still half asleep in bed: Who’s turn is today? Azual, already up and ready: Yours. Katara: Oh okay let me just…*takes all the bed for herself* Katara: Have a good time. Azula: Don’t you want to prove that you are not a menace to society? Katara, almost asleep: I’m dating you.  Azula: See you point. *kisses her forehead* Sleep well, see you for breakfast. Katara: *snorts*

[judysxnd]

Please please please write Pedro x reader smut !!!!! U are so good at it omggggg

Hiiiii thank you!!!

I thought I would be in the mood and that I would have had time to write this week but I absolutely did not! I do not feel as good as I did the first time I wrote smut. It will never top how I felt the first time I published it 😂

Also I feel like it was very fast and not as descriptive as there one I did before, but it’s already the second time I tried to write it so I don’t think I’ll do better. Hope you like it (more than I do!)

Minors, please do not engage, +18 only!

Warnings: quick hand jobs, sex

——————————————————————————————

You were sleeping peacefully in your bed, being lullabied by the rain outside. The window opened, the small wind was refreshing, as some night activities with Pedro got the room pretty hot. You were both still naked, barely covered. Pedro was on his side, facing you as you were on your stomach, taking as much space as you could on your side.

Suddenly a storm started. Neither of you minded. If the storm started while you were asleep, it was not going to wake you up. But if it started before, you were for sure not going to fall asleep. You never knew why, but it upset you enough, even more as Pedro could fall asleep. There could actually have the loudest noise next to him he would still fall asleep.

But this time, the thunder was extremely loud. And that’s what woke you up at.. 4:37am. You sighed when you saw the time.

“What time is it?” Pedro said. You got scared as you didn’t know he was awake too.

“4:38am” he sighed too “the thunder woke you up too?”

“Yeah” Pedro turned his light on

“Maybe leaving the window opened was a bad idea”

“Oh look who’s finally changing her mind” Pedro said as he got up to close the window

“What? It was really hot in here, I was right”

“I bet you are”

“And it’s not my fault it got hot in the first place”

“Oh really? You just didn’t tease the entire night while we were out? Shit I thought it was you” he went back to bed

“Hey! You teased too”

“I don’t care, you were the one wanting to leave the window open” you both laughed, you rolled on your back, ending a few inches to Pedro.

“I can make myself forgiven” you smirked. Pedro looked at you smiling

“I can’t believe you”

“What?” You sat up

“It’s almost 5am!”

“Are you tired?” He didn’t say anything “that’s what I thought. At least after we’ll be tired and go back to sleep”

“Makes sense”

You started to lean over Pedro, kissing his chest here and there, as you reached his nightstand to grab a condom. Pedro watched you, his left hand caressing your back, sometimes going a little further and squeezing your ass. Grabbing the condom, you delicately opened it, putting it on Pedro’s dick, teasing a little at the same time.

“Always a fucking tease” Pedro said in a lower voice. It didn’t take time for him to loose it.

“Hm, ‘cause I know you like it so much” you said, kissing his stomach and going up to his chest, reaching his neck, jaw, cheek, and his lips, your hand still working on him. The kiss was rough, you were both needing each other physically. Desire and lust took over.

Pedro’s hands were travelling on your body, eventually also going down on you. You moaned as you felt his fingers touching the right place. The pace started to go a little bit faster, both of you getting closer. But then, Pedro stopped.

“Wh- why?” You asked, feeling deprived as you were close to your climax. So you decided to stop as well.

“That’s for always teasing”

“Oh so you’re punishing me? Didn’t know you were into that stuff” you smirked, Pedro laughed

“I’m not really into that, but come on, I had to, now you know how I feel” you rolled your eyes “now come on here” he said, grabbing your thigh, pulling you on top of him

“That’s not a really convincing argument, but as it is 5am I will let it go for now” you laughed as you held yourself on the headboard of the bed, lining yourself to Pedro’s dick, as you slowly let it enter you. You both moaned to the feeling. Pedro’s hands were on you waist, holding you steady for a few moments.

You started to move, head falling back as you already started to feel your orgasm slowly coming back. Both moaning, Pedro was either grabbing your breasts or you ass (more your ass). Being on top was not your favorite position as you kind of had weak legs and they started to hurt really soon, making it hard for you to keep the position for a certain amount of time. At some point Pedro always has to take over. This time wasn’t anything different.

Approaching your climax, your legs were hurting and shaking, so Pedro sat up on his knees, becoming the one making the movements, as he held you by your back. Both of your moans were getting louder and louder. Your hands were in Pedro’s hair as he kissed your chest, making you shiver even if you were feeling hot.

Your orgasm was finally hitting you, leaving you out of words. All you could say was either yes, or Pedro. Maybe it was the time, tiredness coming back, but none of you were actually saying anything. You were just moaning. After you both came, Pedro brought you closer to him, holding you tight, still leaving some light kisses on your shoulder. You were both out of breath. Your hands in Pedro’s hair, you lifted his chin, smiling.

“I love you Pedrito” he smiled too

“I love you more mi amor” he kissed you, very passionately this time. The roughness was gone, it was sweeter this time, delicate.

After that, you laid down on your side as Pedro went to the bathroom. Not even five minutes later he came back, only to find you fast asleep on your side. He noticed the storm had stopped, as well as the rain. Chuckling to himself, he opened the window again, and came back in bed, spooning you. Thank god tomorrow was Sunday, because you were both definitely going to sleep until 11am at least.

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 6/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE

                There’s a fucking bell being rung and he squints, reaching for his phone. Of all the information that was piled on to him last night and no one warned him about this. A 5am wake-up call. What the fuck. He knows he doesn’t have anything he needs to be awake for until much closer to eight, a far more humane time to be awake after the travel day yesterday. He rolls over and tries to go back to sleep, pulling the pillow over his head in an effort to drown out any potential future sounds or alarms.

                Of course it’s no use. He’s wide awake twenty minutes later unable to get back to sleep and decides to just get up, take a walk around and get the proverbial lay of the land, review what aspects and areas he’s in charge of. Meet with anyone who might also have the misfortune of being awake this early. He gets dressed, and he’s brought with him his oldest clothes, knowing time on a ranch wasn’t going to do his wardrobe any favors. He enters the mess hall and it’s quieter than the previous evening, far fewer people but there’s the smell of coffee and baking biscuits and his mouth waters. Aunty Kaye is nowhere to be seen, but the kitchen is clearly a hive of activity without her presence anyway.

                A few people watch him, and they’re probably awake because they’re getting ready to go out and work. Work on a ranch that is, not a movie set. He glances around and then ambles over.

                “Mind if I sit?”

             ��  “Be our guest,” one of them says, and they shuffle over. Glancing around Bradley is pretty sure he’s the only one awake who isn’t a ranch worker. Clearly a type of hazing, and fucking Natasha and Bob and Rueben were in on it. Fuckers.

                “Hi, I’m Bradley, the lead stunt coordinator.”

                That gets a few interested looks, and he gets everyone’s names around the table and he’s going to struggle to remember them all, but he’s pretty sure he’ll get most of them. He’s always been good with names. Then one man, older than the rest is reaching his hand across the table.

                “Andy. I’m the foreman. You got any questions about the ranch you can come direct to me.”

                “Thank you sir, that’s good to know.”

                He’s not normally a person that calls people sir and ma’am but it’s just slipping out of him, a natural response to the apparent Southern hospitality he’s being shown. Mav and Ice would be proud. Andy’s lips twitch in amusement and he wonders if his Californian accent sounds odd or amusing to them.

                “I’ve met with Selina a few times now, she tells me you like to walk the perimeter of the set…”

                Bradley snorts and shakes his head.

                “When it’s practical. I think I’d get lost if I tried that here.”

                Andy snorts with amusement, clearly agreeing with his self-assessment.

                “Well, you’d be right. Also you can’t do the boundary in a day. We usually send out a couple of teams. You’d need to stay a couple of nights outdoors if you were wanting to ride the whole boundary…”

                Bradley blows out a breath, making a conceding and impressed gesture, shrugging his shoulders a little in concession. He knew before coming that he wouldn’t be able to do his usual routine, has already reviewed aerial photos and maps. It’s not drivable either, they’d do it all on horseback. He’s got the outline of where they will be filming and he knows he can walk and ride that, become familiar with that and leave the rest of the ranch to the professionals.

                “You want me to show you around the wider area?” Andy asks, standing as the others move, clearing dishes and heading out.

                “I don’t want to interrupt your day.”

                “It’s fine, we’ve got plenty of help at the moment.”

                “Okay then, that’d be great.”

                He follows Andy and the rest of the crew out to the stables, watches as they all go through their morning routine and prepare for their day ahead. Andy is giving out jobs, discussing things with different teams and Bradley knows it’s a large ranch, is bordered by farms in most directions, but from the sounds of it they’re friendly with all the neighbors.

                “Saddle up,” Andy instructs, pointing toward a stall.

                “Sure thing.”

                Okay. He wasn’t expecting that exactly but he’s not as out of practice as he would have been a couple of months ago. Inside the stall is a bay mare, sturdy looking and Bradley nods, giving her a quick brush down before saddling her and adjusting the stirrups. He strokes a gentle hand over her nose as he swaps the halter for a bridle, and she’s clearly used to working, simply noses at his hand like she’s looking for a treat and he murmurs about bringing her one later.

                They mount their respective horses and he follows Andy’s lead, heading out to a large building a bit away and he can’t see as much as he would like to in the pre-dawn light, but Andy seems sure and Bradley can do nothing but trust him.

                “From what I understand, most of the scenes are going to be filmed in either the practice rodeo arena, the outdoor pen or potentially the track along the stream to the pond out back,” Andy says, his voice clear. The surrounding land isn’t quiet, not with all the animals waking, along with the temporary trailers and people stirring and starting their day, but it’s still hushed, nowhere near the hustling sounds of a city. He follows Andy into a building, staying on horseback and it’s a massive indoor rodeo arena.

                “Is it normal for a ranch to have an indoor practice rodeo arena like this?” Bradley asks and Andy raises an eyebrow at him, like he thinks Bradley is simple-minded.

                “No son, this is special to Hazy Days.”

                “Oh, okay than,” Bradley says, because that doesn’t answer his question. The building isn’t new, but it’s also not old either, maybe between five and ten years, and they’re probably going to film the competition scene in here. He knows the camera crew and set designers can be creative with making one space look completely different from one scene to the next. If it had been new then he’d have maybe thought it was built specifically for the movie, but apparently not. They keep riding and Andy is pointing out the pond and grove of trees.

                “That there’s Bill and Kaye’s place, where all their family live. Bill’s family have been here for a long time,” Andy says, pointing toward a house with a large wrap-around porch, a decent distance away but the sunrise is reflecting against the glass of the windows. And Kaye’s proprietary attitude last night makes a little more sense, that this is her home and they’re all guests, yeah, it’s kind of nice to be treated that way instead of a necessary nuisance.

                He feels better having ridden around, gotten the literal lay of the land and he thanks Andy, leaves him to his days’ work and goes off to find the others and give them shit for not warning him about the bell. They are, unsurprisingly, unapologetic, although Bob hands him a pair of high-grade ear plugs which he takes with gratitude.

                He bumps into Aunty Kaye again later and it confirms his earlier thoughts, she seems genuinely happy to have everyone bustling around, the smile never dropping from her face and she just seems like the mothering type, double checking they’ve drunk enough water and wearing hats and sunscreen when they go out in the sun. She asks if he enjoyed his wakeup call and he huffs a laugh, realizing that it’s clearly a hazing ritual of sorts, a harmless one and he says he enjoyed the pre-dawn ride with Andy which makes her laugh.

                He sits with Selina and goes over the health and safety, not only of the set in general but the risks associated with each stunt. It’s not an action movie, but there’s always risks when working with horses and some of the scenes will require competent people on horseback to carry out the rodeo practice scenes.

                The first few days slip by, and he rides every day, working with Machado and Bassett, watches as Rueben and Natasha learn to walk like them, ride like them. Natasha has dyed and cut her hair. Every day he ignores his screaming muscles at the out-of-practice movements, but on day four he wakes up not in complete agony. Stretches out comfortably and when he gets to the stable there is a different man working with the horses and he acknowledges him with a nod of his head, which he takes as a clear indication to come over and talk.

                “I’m Bill. It’s nice to meet you.”

                There’s something familiar about Bill’s eyes, but he can’t quite place it.

                “Oh, Aunty Kaye’s husband?” Bradley hazards and the other man nods.

                “Yes. And you can call me Bill,” he says, clearly used to his wife’s familiarity with everyone on set and Bradley hadn’t meant to refer to her as Aunty Kaye.

                “That’s fine sir,” Bradley says, huffing with amusement.

                “Now, Andy said you were decent on a horse.”

                “I know how not to fall off, sir,” Bradley demurs, because he’s better than he was a week ago, but he’s still out of practice and he doesn’t need to talk up his skills. He’s not going to be as good as the people who make their living on the back of a horse, but he doesn’t need to be.

                “Well, if you can tell one end from the other then we’re off to a good start. Now Kaye wanted me to give these to you special, seeing as she can’t make it over today. Grandkids are visiting.”

                He takes the proffered container and inside are cheese biscuits, still warm and he doesn’t know if he gets particular personalized attention, but she always seems to take the time to come over and check in on him, occasionally pressing a piece of baked good into his hand, or some fruit before leaving him to continue working. This is going above and beyond though.

                “She doesn’t seem to think you eat enough, but she thinks that of most everyone. Says we need to keep you sweet because you keep everyone safe.”

                “Uh, that’s really Selina’s job. I just look after the stunt work.”

                “I learnt a long time ago to not bother trying to tell her what way the wind was blowing.”

                “Okay. Point taken. Please pass on my thanks.”

                Bill tips his hat and disappears back outside and Bradley goes to start his day, biscuits in hand.

SEVEN

[ashleigghh]

Day 24- tradition. Jegulus, 430 words.

“Wake up,” Regulus jumps, getting torn out of his peaceful sleep by a harsh whisper directly in his ear. His hand darts out before he can even open his eyes, hitting the culprit with a satisfying thud and jumping up on his bed.

“Ow fuck,” James falls backwards, clutching his cheek and looking at Regulus dumbfounded. Regulus, now slightly more alert and feeling more than guilty jumps up, holding his hands flat out in front of him.

“Oh shit I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Regulus apologises, his face morphing into one of confusion when James just smiles at him dreamily, “Did you seriously enjoy that?”

“Do you want the actual answer?” Regulus just sighs at James’ response, using his shoulder to jump down off of the bed, pressing a kiss to his cheek before disappearing into the en-suite. 

When he re-enters his room, James is perched on the edge of the bed, his cheek showing no sign it was ever punched.  Regulus moves in front of James, grabbing James’ chin to tilt his face so he can inspect the damage.

“Are you okay?” 

“Perfect,” James whispers, staring up at Regulus in a way that should be considered dangerous, Regulus can actually feel his heart beating so hard it could burst. James reaches a hand up, tucking a loose curl back and leaning up to kiss Regulus. 

“It was my fault anyway,” James laughs as they separate, pulling Regulus down to sit, “i’m sorry for scaring you like that.”

“Why did you want me up so early?” Regulus groans, gesturing to the alarm clock on the bedside table before flopping his head down onto James’ shoulder. “It’s not even 5am yet,”

“It’s tradition!” James exclaims like it makes this a reasonable time to be awake.

“Can’t we just follow my traditions, pretend we don’t exist until dinner time when we emerge for our rooms just long enough to eat,” Regulus mumbles into James’ shoulder, drifting off to sleep again already, 

“Just for an hour or so and then we can go back to sleep, I promise,” 

“Only because it’s your birthday,” Regulus stretches and rubs the sleep out of his eyes, turning to James with wide eyes upon his realisation,

 “Oh, I punched you on your birthday,” He breathes out, a new wave of guilt washing over him filling him with the urge to beg for forgiveness. James doesn’t seem to care, grabbing Regulus and pulling him closer, kissing him before whispering in his ear like it’s a secret,

“Maybe that can be a new part of the tradition, hm?”

[changingplumbob]

New Goth: Chapter 4, Part 3

Sleepover to break in Milton's new rooms then Harvestfest begins

The waiter comes along and places their order down. Just one problem, the dishes have been swapped around.

James: Excuse me I-

But the waiter has already left

Alexander: Guess I get the taco then

James: *pouts* Joey would probably say it was some kind of glitch

Alexander: *laughs* like a… between sessions glitch

James: There’s a lot of steam coming off this, I hope I won’t get burnt

Alexander: it’s probably decorative smoke, I don’t think they could serve something that would burn people. It would be a lawsuit waiting to happen

James: Well it tastes nice

Alexander: Now about Milton, you’re not really thinking about sleeping on the floor are you

James: If it’s what will help him feel comfortable in his new room, I will do it. He deserves to feel safe

Alexander: I just worry you’ll get sore

James: Weren’t you just saying how young I was

Alexander: Yes but that was-

James: We’re doing the sleepover. Then, with some luck, we can have our bedroom back to ourselves and the cats. Not that I’ve minded woohoo in other places but I do miss some stuff we can only do on the bed

Alexander: *laughs* I see your point, okay, sleepover it is

Alexander searches for the sleeping bags to carry up to Milton’s new rooms while James helps Milton move all of his clothes in, as well as his old toys from the Goth house. Finally we are ready to sleep but, better take a quick photo first! Can’t believe I didn’t have a proper one with these three.

5am...

Hamlet: *meows loudly* I really must protest at this locked door! I should be able to roam anywhere

Milton: *sleepily* Hamlet? Sorry buddy, your dads just don’t want you getting stuck in here

Hamlet: *meows* I haven’t seen them for hours though. HOURS

Milton: You really shouldn’t just wake sims up, especially on the weekends. It’s Harvestfest today, how am I supposed to stay awake

Hamlet seems undeterred from meowing so Milton decides to give him a pet and a play to satisfy him for a while.

At a more reasonable hour the sun rises and Harvestfest begins. First mission is to find the three gnomes (which I just have to say was near impossible in this mansion) and appease them for the day. Then while the humans don’t get special outfits, the cats become honorary tacos for the next while in celebration of the day.

Alexander: Your cat is knocking out the trash again

James: Our cat

Hamlet: *meows* Ew mum, that’s gross

Gertrude: *meows* You should try it, so much to explore

Hamlet: *meows* I’m fine here

Milton: Do you have to make such a mess Gertrude? I’ll probably have to clean it up

James: We have to do cleaning before our guests get here anyway

Alexander: I’m on cooking, think you can set the table Milton

Milton: Sure. Guess what? No nightmares last night

James: That's wonderful

The Chopra’s have arrived! Toddler Viola, child twins Savannah and Mercedes (your reminder that Savannah is in pink with hair clips, Mercedes is in blue with no hair clips), as well as their parents Rahul and Cassandra. First to get Viola in the high chair, then get some hugs out of the way. Milton and Savannah autonomously hugged despite having a low relationship which was adorable.

Alexander: You look… nice

Cassandra: *laughs* Yes Mr subtle, I am absolutely pregnant again

Alexander: Thought so. Congratulations to all of you

While Viola babbles incoherently to Milton he smiles and nods. Down the table the rest of the family is getting stuck into the ham Alexander cooked.

Alexander: Okay Viola, here’s your plate

Viola: Mama?

Cassandra: It’s your food, eat up green bean

Viola looks at the food questioningly but once she pats it she realises what it is and happily flings it about while eating the odd bit here and there.

Cassandra: Do you know how long the adoption process will take

James: I imagine since we’re not wanting an infant it shouldn’t be too long

Rahul: The sooner the better with kids

Mercedes: What is… a dog shone (adoption)?

Cassandra: You know how you and your sisters came from inside me, well your uncle Alexander and uncle James are going to get a kid that came from inside someone else

Milton: So... I’m getting another sibling or a cousin?

James: Not exactly. They would still be a niece or nephew technically

Alexander: But that doesn’t mean you can’t include them like a sibling or a cousin

Hamlet: *meows* Ham for Hamlet? Someone is too kind

Rahul: Your cat is trying to eat the food

James: Hamlet, no!

Alexander: I’ll just put the leftovers it in the fridge where he can't reach them, give me a second

Cassandra: Do you want a boy or girl?

Alexander: I’d settle for one who doesn’t judge me and James, gender doesn't matter

James: They won’t judge you love, don’t worry. I’ll have a proper talk with the social worker

Savannah: So… we’re going to get a cousin finally?

Rahul: Yes you are

Milton: You know I'm sitting right here Savannah

Savannah: *scoffs* You make a deal about being our uncle all the time *pulls face*

Milton: Oh yeah, good point

Mercedes: If you wanted to stop making a show about it, that would be great

Gertrude: *meows* Where did all the ham go

Previous ... Next

[httpscomexe]

Muzzle

Summary: You can’t lock up a Stark.

(Find what I'm currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Bucky x Reader (Some Winter Soldier POV)

Warnings: Stalking, kind of kidnapping, mentions of past violence, individual warnings per chapter.) It will start becoming 18+ next chapter.

Tags: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10

Word Count: 2898 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 4

The Winter Soldier's POV

5AM, she’s awake, the sound of her alarm bringing her out of her head. She stretches for about 5 minutes before ultimately deciding she’s not getting up yet.

5:30AM, she wakes up again, but this time to the sound of a bunch of students outside her door. She stretches for about 5 minutes, and by that time the hallways are more relaxed, so she slowly gets out of bed, then goes into the bathroom to shower, brush her teeth, and do her hair. Along with anything else she might do.

By 6AM she’s out of the bathroom, and she goes to her little kitchen area to make herself something to eat. Every Monday it was a sandwich, but other days it was anything she could find from instant noodles to leftover lasagna.

6:15, she’s getting dressed for class.

6:30 she’s swinging her bag over her shoulders and she’s out of her dorm. And that’s when I make my move and climb through the window.

I leave the tree that’s right next to her window, all I have to do is reach over and lift it up since she thinks it’s useless to lock considering she’s on the third floor, so chances are, no one would be able to break in. Except me.

She’s different. There’s something about her that neither me or the Winter Soldier can understand. I know I had clear instructions to kill anyone on sight, and the plan at three in the morning was to shoot her then give myself stitches, but as soon as her eyes locked onto mine, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hurt her.

I’ve gone through her drawers, and learnt just about everything about her. Her name is Y/N, but none of her papers had her last name on it, and her ID was always with her so I never got to learn her last name, but soon I’d learn it from her personally. I just didn’t understand why her last name was so hard to find.

I haven’t been caught yet by her, I know her schedule like the back of my hand. She leaves her dorm at 6:30AM for her first class, then she comes back at 5PM every day, when her social battery finally runs out, but I’m normally out of the dorm room by 4:30.

Today though, she hadn’t come back like usual. I waited, and waited, and waited. I hadn’t been able to watch her yesterday, I had something that needed to be attended to. So when she hadn’t been in the bed this morning I was already confused. I wanted to assume that maybe she had gone to a party, gotten drunk, and stumbled into some boys bed, but she wasn’t like that. So I checked the camera I hooked up in her room, only to discover she had left with a few familiar faces, including Nick Fury. Now I don’t want to be considered a threat to the Avengers or to S.H.I.E.L.D, but if they lay a single hand on her, I won’t hesitate to blow out even Steve Rogers brain. She. Is. Mine…

Your POV

“Well, Ms. Jasper.” Agent Ross says. “Now we definitely know you’re hiding something.”

“Pretty sure my record is clean.”

“Oh yea it is. But maybe don’t use the name your father told you to use as an alias.” He tells you, sliding the tablet they had been using to look up your name over to you. On the screen was a clear image of your information, you had hacked into government systems when you were around the age of 10, and you had added your fake name to the systems in order to live your fake life. “I asked Stark to look it up, he swore he recognized the name, and your middle name gave it away. I mean come on. ‘Jasper Anthony Stark?’ Your father gave you that middle name for the sake of his own ego, no one else would do that.” He crosses his arms. “So Stark will be down here in a few minutes to talk to you, Y/N.” He finishes, then collects his belongings and leaves the room. Leaving you alone with Ned.

“You’re the smartest and also the absolutely stupidest person I know Y/N.” Ned whispers, hoping the A in the AV system wouldn’t pick up on him, which you were sure it would.

“Well just because I’m smart doesn’t mean I make good decisions. I mean look at me.” You uncross your arms and hold them out to make a point. “I’m not exactly a normal teenager.” You tell him, then lower your tone to a volume you know their system won’t pick up on. “I literally kill and torture people for a living!”

“Stark is on his way now.” A voice says over the speaker in the corner.

“Do you still have that bracelet I gave you?” You ask Ned, referring to the friendship bracelet that read ‘BFF’ on his wrist.

“Yea, why?”

“Hey, Ned.”

“Hey Mr. Stark.” Ned's voice raises by about 20 octaves as soon as Tony Stark enters the room. Then instead of doing something normal like I don’t know sitting on the chair, he awkwardly sits on the table, one leg on, one leg off.

“Now I was told that someone in this room is of high importance.” He says, staring directly at you. “I’m assuming it isn’t Ned, he’s just spider man's friend.” Ned voices a sound of disappointment, causing you to look over at him then you stare at the floor, not able to look your dad in the eyes any longer.

“Well I uh, have some really important work I need to do. So I think your guys should totally give me a ride back to my dorm.”

“Or you can actually look and speak to me like I’m your dad.”

“Except you're not.” You spit out, your voice laced with hatred. “You’ve done nothing but cause me pain ever since I’ve left you and you haven’t even made the slightest effort in the past eight years to try and find me.”

“Haven’t made an effort? I have been sending fucking search teams to France for fucks sake Y/N. It’s not my fault you’re good at hiding.”

“I’ve never left Manhattan.” You say plainly. “Unless it’s for work, but I’m in school right now so I don’t have work.”

“Where are you working?”

“None of your business, I’m 18 and a freshman in college.”

“You’re my daughter.”

“You sure as hell don’t act like I am.”

“How the hell did you manage to survive eight years on your own?”

“Someone took me in.”

“A piece of shit may I add.” Ned says suddenly, breaking the back and fourth between you and Stark.

“Oh yea how so?” Stark asks Ned.

“Well-” Your hand quickly covers his mouth, preventing him or at least making sure he couldn’t say whatever he was about to say.

Yea, you told Ned a majority of the abusive, and traumatizing things that happened to you while you were being cared for by a man named Ezekiel, or you at least had a roof over your head and were fed. Most days.

“So I would assume he wasn’t a good caretaker?”

“He’s my dad, that's all you need to know.”

“Pretty sure that’s my title.”

“Not after you abandoned me.”

“Abandoned you?”

“Uh huh.”

“Mr. Stark. Ms. Potts is calling, would you like me to answer or are you busy?” A new voice came over the speakers, it sounded like Jarvis.

“Yes you can answer, I’m done in here, and give strict instructions to everyone in the building to not let this girl out, Ned you can leave whenever, preferably now.” Stark says quickly before standing up. “Hey, hun, what’s up?” You hear him say, assumingly speaking to Virginia, and you turn your head as Ned speaks again.

“Family reunion, yay.”

About a week passed. You weren’t allowed to leave the tower, but you were given a small room to call yours. It had a bed, and a TV hanging on the wall across from it. It also had an amazing view from the city since one of the entire walls was a window, luckily, Stark is a tech geek so the windows can dim if you need some darkness. There was also a small bathroom and a walk-in closet, with all the little necessities you would need and a bunch of clothes.

You weren’t allowed to go to school, but Stark found a way for you to do everything online, which you hated.

You hated not being able to see your friends. You hated not being able to blast your music in your ears in class, or staying up until three in the morning missing your pink little toy. After doing nothing but complaining, they tried endlessly to offer you things like tablets and other expensive items to get you to shut up.

You settled with a pet fish. A cute little betta fish, she was white but she looked chrome when she swam around in her tank, a big one, which was another thing you had asked for. You named her Penelope, and she was the only thing keeping you sane.

“How’s the fish?”

“Her name is Penelope.” You told Sam Wilson as he just walks into your room, no knocking or anything. You don’t bother looking up from your tablet that you were drawing on as he enters.

“Well how is she?”

“Fine.”

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Fine.”

“Are you gonna actually say anything other than fine?”

“Fine.”

“Okay.” He sighs heavily and walks in front of Penelope's tank. “You know, part of the deal on you having this fish was you cooperate with us.”

“There’s nothing to cooperate on, you all know I’m his daughter, you just won’t let me go.”

“We won’t let you go cause you’re the only civilian we know that’s been in contact with Barnes and the only Civilian he seems to listen to.”

“Just a coincidence.”

“It can’t be a coincidence, Y/N.” He tells you, stepping close to your bed where you were sitting so you power off your tablet and look at him. “I don’t think you understand what it means when we tell you he can’t control his emotions when he’s being fucking brainwashed.” He gets closer, until he can whisper and you’ll still hear him. “So you better start talking little girl.” His tone threatens. “This man is a menace and a threat to society. Where. Is. He.”

“I. Don’t. Know.” You tell him, getting in his face to match his anger, you couldn’t voice how genuinely annoyed you’ve been over the past week, with the constant same questions you’re almost forced to make up a lie and tell them you’ve been hiding Barnes up your ass.

“You have a lot of fucking nerve, and I’d like to know where the hell you got it from.” He spits in your face as he speaks and it makes you wanna do nothing more than kick his future generation while you still have the chance.

“You learn to defend yourself when you’re in the streets while everyone else your age is singing the ABC’s.”

“Yea well I guess only good kids learn their ABC’s.” Sam tell you almost under his breath, then he taps Penelope’s fish tank two or three times before leaving your room, closing the door behind him, then you quickly get back into your tablet.

You close the drawing you had started and you go back into the coding for the towers security system that you had gotten into fairly easy. This way you could see everything, from the position of every security guard and Avenger, to every code that every camera was given, and you finally planned your way out, which would finally happen tonight so you could get back to your normal life.

“Where is she? How could she had possibly gotten out? I had every guard, every Agent, and every fucking Camera focused on her room.” Tony Stark's voice could be heard from across the lobby of the tower as he walks next to Steve Rogers and Happy Hogan.

“Well sir, it says here that she had hacked into the system, matter of fact she’s been doing it for a few days now.” Happy says through closed teeth, slightly annoyed after being pulled out of a very important meeting with quite literally the vice president. “And here it says…” He uses his index finger to gently push his glasses back down on his nose, and he looks down at the paper receipts. He decided it would be best to print out everything since apparently ‘paper cannot be hacked,’ even though what's on the papers is what was on the computers. “She basically got in, figured out the routes of every guard, figured out everyone's schedule, and then found out she had exactly one minute, thirty seven seconds, and six hundred and eight milliseconds of a window at exactly eleven thirteen at night.”

“She’s really fucking fast if she’s able to make it down from the thirteenth floor to the first floor in less than two minutes, while avoiding every bit of security I have.”

“Well like I said, she found a window, and it was exactly one minute and-”

“Thirty seven seconds, I know.” He groans. “I just can’t believe I have a ‘window’ in my security. Rogers?”

“Yes, Stark?” Rogers slows the three of them down to stop at the snack counter, grabbing a red, white, and blue donut which he takes a huge bite of.

“How would you suggest we fill this supposed ‘gap’ in our security?”

“Well you could hire two more men, and then set different shifts for everyone.”

“Two men? Why two?”

“Well, for every shift change there’s always two men.”

“Always two men huh? Well go ahead and tell one of the pairs that they’re gonna be alone, I don’t feel like hiring anyone.” Stark tells Rogers, but Steve just gives Happy a look and a nod, obviously not going to listen to Stark as they watch him approach the snack counter and ask them for his favourite donut.

“Do you have any more donuts with red, white, and blue sprinkles?”

“Ugh, finally.” You stretch and undo your hair as you finally get back to your dorm room after a whole week. You feel for the counter in the dark, then use your muscle memory to just make your way back to your bed, the one you so genuinely missed. “GAH! What the fuck!” You scream as you plop down onto the bed and quickly fall off as you land on something hard, then you quickly reach over to turn on the bedside lamp. “No.” You say quickly as the familiar blue eyes meet yours. “You need to get out, I want nothing to do with you.” Stressed, you run your hands through your hair before reaching for the man and trying to pull him out of your bed.

“Hey come on, calm down.” You freeze.

“Did you just say a full sentence without it sounding like it was scripted.” You stayed frozen, your fists were clutching both the centre of his chest and his bicep.

“Yea I’m a bit more normal when I’m not being brainwashed.” He tells you, and you gently let go of him.

“Wait, how many times have you slept in my bed without me being here?”

“Only this week.”

“And with me being here.”

“Only after you’ve had a long day.”

“That’s not nice to know.” You admit, still staring down at him before he finally sits up.

He wasn’t wearing his muzzle and he wasn’t dressed in a thick tactical vest like the two times you’d last seen him. Instead he was wearing a red henley, a dark T-shirt underneath, some jeans, and a heavy green jacket. You also noticed the filled black bag sitting on the floor next to the bed. “I kinda still need you to leave.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Yea well sucks, I need you too.”

“Baby why are you shaking?”

“Shaking? I’m not- baby- shaking? Wait baby what?” Your brain absolutely fails, then he stands up, easily towering over you as he stares down into your eyes.

“Who’s the one that sounds weird when they talk now?” He asks you, and you want to back talk with a thousand sarcastic remarks, but the second your lips part, your voice is caught in your throat as the side of his index finger rests under your chin. “Now where have you been?”

“I-” You stutter. “The Avengers think I’m in control of you.”

“They think you are? You mean they know you are?”

“What? But I’m not.”

“No I’m not… what’re you talking about?” You ask, and he leans down, resting his forehead on yours.

“Doll, from the moment I walked into your dorm the first day I saw you, I have not been able to get you off my mind. I was the Winter Soldier when I walked into your room the first time, I wasn’t James.” His hands gently cup your face.

“You are in control of my every thought and my every move.”

[caseycabotsvu]

Abby Scuito x Reader (First Day Nerves)

Reader is Abby’s new lab partner, it’s her first day on the job and she’s trying to adjust to her new environment. Reader is autistic/ wears hearing aids – no warnings just pure fluff and comfort. Words - 1588

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Waking up this morning an overwhelming sense of anxiety churned in my stomach, it was the first day of my new job at NCIS. Turning over to my clock I could see the time was 5am, way earlier than I would usually be awake, but I could not get anymore sleep. I rolled out of bed making sure to straighten up my duvet and pillows, before grabbing my dressing gown and shuffling towards the shower. Putting on the water, I got in allowing the water to trickle over my skin, trying to wash away the nauseous feeling my anxiety caused, as the soap ran over my body. Turning off the water, I quickly stepped out drying off and pulling on my dressing gown. Finally walking over to my vanity, I began drying and straightening my hair before tying it half up in two pigtails. I finished off by applying my makeup, trying as always to make my eyeliner perfect, then applying my cherry red lipstick, before walking into my closet, to find the perfect outfit, a simple back skirt, matched with a black graphic tee and my platform boots. Making a good impression was important for me, I would be working alongside a lady named Abby, as her lab partner and I did not want her to think I was anything less than perfect. Making my way to the kitchen I grabbed some breakfast before realising it was 6.30am and I needed to head out to work. Grabbing my bag, I raced down the stairs of my apartment complex towards the subway.

Taking the subway was always something I hated; the noise, the smells, the crowds. It was always so overwhelming to me, but I was too preoccupied with first day nerves I could not concentrate on that. Finally making it to the building, I was greeted boss Agent Gibbs. I had met him before at the recruitment so I felt as comfortable as I could. “Morning y/n. How are you feeling this morning?” Gibbs great at reading people’s emotions could already see you were on edge. “I’m fine, first day nerves but I’m ready.” You chirped out, trying to appear collected. “That’s good y/n, I have a feeling you and Abby will become great friends in no time. Let me introduce you to her.” Following Gibbs, you got into the elevator, going down to the lab. Your hands nervously flapped at your sides, a stim you could not control when you were nervous, it would useless trying to mask, you could not fully control it. Eyes darting round the room, spotted the raven-haired women, sat in her lab coat as if she had been waiting for you to arrive. “Hi Abby, this is your new lab partner y/n, I will leave her with you. Play nice remember.” Gibbs shot Abby a smirk as she rolled her eyes. “Hey y/n I’m Abby, how are you feeling? Any first day nerves yet?” “Hey Abby, umm yeah slightly, is it that obvious?.” Offering a small smile, you avoided her eye contact. “Well, I think I read people’s body language very well, and your hands are giving you away.” She laughed, “You’ll be fine, I’m here if you need anything, but I know your more than qualified for this job. Now how about we start running some tests on this case Gibbs brought me this morning.” “Okay sounds good.”

Throughout the day you began to trust Abby more, she was constantly reassuring you, leaving gentle pats on your shoulder. You realised you could be yourself with her, starting to wonder when you should open up to her about being autistic and wearing hearing aids, due to partial hearing loss. The though of the conversation was overwhelming enough, not to mention the entire day of talking with people, and the new environment was enough to throw you off, zoning out slightly, before your attention was brough back to you by Abby slightly squeezing your shoulders. “Hey y/l/n, a little spaced out tonight? Are you tired, I could get us some coffee?” Nodding, Abby took that as a hint to go grab some, from the staff room, leaving you to your thoughts once again. Once Abby retuned you enjoyed your coffee, talking about music, surprisingly you both had similar interests in music and fashion, you began feeling safe with her. “So, y/n shall we get back to work?” “Yeah sounds good.” “Okay well could you grab me those microscope slides from the draw please and we can get started.” Offering her a smile you walked over to grab them, but on the way back your trembling hands dropped them, causing an unexpected loud noise. Before you knew it, you dropped to the floor tears pricking at your eyes, as you placed your head on your knees rocking slightly try to calm yourself. Your breath caught in your throat as you began to hyperventilate, the panic attack consuming your body, you were trapped in your head, and all you could hear was the feedback of all the noises your hearing aids were picking up. Wanting to escape from the hell of the world, you pulled out your hearing aids as Abby tried to communicate with you. Abby had not realised you were wearing hearing aids until now, mentally scolding herself for not noticing the clues throughout the day, such as your intent gaze on her lips as she spoke when the lab was noisy. She quickly got down to your level, pulling you into her embrace gently rocking you, allowing you to calm down. She rubbed your back and gave you deep pressure to regulate your emotions. She hated seeing you so vulnerable, and in such distress, all she wanted was to help. Eventually coming round looking up at Abby you spoke, “Thank you.” Not saying a word Abby signed back to you, “Your welcome.” Catching you off guard, you frantically signed back, “You know ASL?” She nodded. Taking this as your time you carefully put your hearing aids back in, wanting to listen intently to Abby’s soothing tone.

After a while of silence, you and Abby now sat next to each other against the wall. “I’m here for you y/n if you want to talk about it? I know its only your first day, but I want to get to know you and understand so I can help.” “I’ve been waiting for the right moment all day, its just hard to understand when it was the best time.” “That’s okay, take your time. I’ll be here until you’re ready.” With your gaze locked on the floor, Abby reached over to hold your hand, stopping you from fidgeting. Before you could think, you let it all out. “I’m autistic Abby, I umm find it hard to bring it up with new people because I find it hard to read when the best time for that is and it makes me anxious thinking about it. I just get really overwhelmed by change, and today has been full of new things; new job, new place, new people, and it’s just been a lot for me.” “Hey, honey I understand that I really do. Your always safe with me y/n, whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed, burnt out or anxious please come to me. If you don’t want to talk about it, you could always sign. The it would be our secret, until you’re ready to tell the other.” You giggled, signing thank you, before she continued.

“I didn’t realise you wore hearing aids, until I saw you take them out. I wish I knew sooner.” “Yeah I have partial hearing loss, from an accident as a kid, and I’ve been wearing them since, but sometimes it’s hard to focus on what people are saying when the rooms noisy, or there’s music in the background, so I learned to lip read and sign to help with that. So, if you catch me staring at your lips I promise I’m not being weird!” You laughed, finally calm. “I could never think that your amazing y/n, perfect the way you are!” “Thank you Abby, so how do you know ASL?” “Well, my adoptive parents were deaf, so I picked it up as a kid to communicate with them and now my new partner in crime uses ASL we have our own secret way to communicate, which I think is pretty cool.” She laughed, knocking into you, making you smile. “Thank you for making me feel better Abby, I’m glad todays gone well.” “I’m glad you feel that way y/n, thank you for opening up to me, I’ll always be here for you, no matter what you need.”

Soon after the conversation finished Gibbs walked into the lab, bring some new evidence in. “Hey girls, I have new evidence for you both. Glad to see your getting on well.” He smirked. “Since when am I hard to get on with.” Abby exclaimed! “Let’s not go there Abby.” He laughed back, “See you both later, I have work to do.” With that you and Abby, got up and got back to doing what you do best! You could not help but think how you had gotten so lucky to work with a lady so perfect as her.