#went downstairs with a spoon and my water bottle

[just-another-bored-killjoy]

freedom is dangerous. first night alone and completely drenched myself dancing in rain with people i met only today

[russo-woso]

Waters || Leah Williamson

Masterlist | prompt list

Part of the Mini Williamson universe

Warning childbirth, lots of fluff

Summary the chaos and memories created by the birth of baby #2

The air was hot as you walked waddled to the kitchen.

Leah was out shopping with Amelia, grabbing a few last minute things before the baby came.

Leah, being the most protective person ever, didn’t what to leave you alone so far into your pregnancy, so she rang Alessia to come and look after you whilst she went shopping.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be walking.” Alessia shouted through to you from the lounge as you reached down to the freezer to grab ice cream.

“Less, chill, I’m just grabbing some ice cream.” You told her as you walked back with a spoon and a tub of ice cream.

“No I won’t chill. Leah put me in charge of looking after you and I don’t like Leah being angry at me.” Alessia explained and you rolled your eyes. “Here, drink. Don’t want you or little miss getting dehydrated.” Alessia passed you a bottle of water, watching you drink some.

“I know Leah put you in charge of watching me, but that doesn’t mean you have to get me to drink and sit still all day.” You said

“Are you sure? Because if I read the message from Leah, it says ‘make sure she doesn’t move and give her lots of water, don’t want her or bubba getting dehydrated.’” Alessia replied back and you shook your head.

“Of course she did.” You muttered. “Less, help me up please. I need to go to the toilet.”

Alessia got up immediately, helping you to your feet.

As you were approaching the bathroom, a gush of water was heard before you felt a puddle at your feet.

“Alessia.” You called hesitantly before footsteps were heard suddenly.

“What? What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Did you piss yourself?” Alessia questioned, on the verge of laughing at the last question.

“I’ve still got some control of my bladder thank you. But this on the floor is not wee. I think it was my waters breaking.” You tell her as panic spreads on her face.

“Your waters broke? Oh my god. What do I do? Do you want me to call Leah? Do we go to the hospital?” Alessia ran around, grabbing her phone and immediately going to ring Leah.

“Woah, less, calm down. I’ll go upstairs and change and I’ll also call Leah. You go and put the bag in the car, okay? Make sure you breathe as well because I’d like to see my baby girl meet her auntie lessi.” You joke and she nodded, taking a deep breath in.

She helped you up the stairs before walking you to the bedroom.

You sat on the edge of the bed as you heard the footsteps of Alessia running downstairs.

You rested a hand on your bump as a contraction hit, the realisation that you’d meet your second baby girl soon settling in.

You picked up your phone, pressing the phone button next to Leah’s name.

“Hey, baby, everything okay?” Leah questioned over the phone.

“My waters broke, le. I’m just getting changed and then less is going to—” You began but was cut off by a panicked Leah.

“Your waters broke? I’ll be right there, baby. Don’t hang up. Ami, we have to go. Stay on the phone with me.” Leah told you, worry clearly evident in her voice.

“I’m not dying, Le.” You laughed slightly but stopped once another contraction hit.

“Yeah, but you’re having our baby so I have the right to worry. Look, I’m in the car now so we’ll be five minutes, I promise. I’ll see you soon, okay, pretty girl?”

Leah stuck to her promise, her and Amelia running through the door just four minutes later.

“You okay, baby? How bad is it?” Leah asked, immediately wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in for a hug.

“It’s not me you should be worrying about.” You said, pointing to the sweating, out of breath Alessia who stood doubled over trying to catch her breath.

“What’s wrong with her?” Leah whispered

“I think she’s just a bit panicked.” You responded, a smile on your face at the concern Alessia had for you.

“Less, is it okay if you look after Amelia?” Leah questioned as Alessia nodded.

You said your goodbyes to Ami, telling her to be a good girl for auntie lessi.

“Come on then, it’s baby time.” Leah grinned, linking her arm with yours as she guided you to the car.

—

“It hurts so bad.” You complained, bouncing up and down on the yoga ball, sweat dripping down your forehead as you held onto Leah’s hand.

You’d been at the hospital for four hours now, and although progress had been made and your baby girl was closer to being welcomed into the world, you still had a while to go.

“I know, love, you’re doing so well. Nearly there. Not long now.”

Leah, although being a nervous wreck inside, was doing such a good job at being calm and helping you.

If you needed something, she’d be there to do it.

If you needed her hand to hold onto whilst you got through a contraction, her hand was held out in an instant.

If you needed your back massaging, she’d be doing it before you could even open your mouth.

“You’re doing so so well.” Leah repeated, pressing continuous kisses on your forehead.

—

Shortly after your eighth hour at the hospital, the time had come where you were told that you could start pushing.

Leah stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand.

You squeezed the living daylights out of it as you pushed, too focused on getting a baby out of you to notice.

“So close, baby.” Leah mumbled against your forehead before pressing a kiss there. “I can see her, love. She’s so close.”

The moment you heard them cries, your heart melted.

They sounded like music to yours and Leah’s ears.

Your baby girl was pressed onto your chest.

You looked up at Leah to see her eyes filled with tears.

“You did it.” Leah whispered, looking at the newest Williamson.

“Mum, would you like to cut the chord?” The nurse asked Leah, who nodded immediately.

You watched as Leah cut the chord, the tears in Leah’s eyes finally spilling.

“She’s perfect.” You said, staring in awe at your daughter.

“She is.”

The nurses took your baby girl away, checking her over before swaddling her in a blanket.

“Would you like to take her over?” The nurse asked Leah, as Leah nodded, wiping tears away before taking her baby in her arms.

“Hi, bubba. You’ve probably heard my voice in mamas tummy. You’re gorgeous, aren’t you?” Leah cooed

You couldn’t help but cry at the interaction, memories from Amelia’s birth flashing in your mind.

Leah brought little miss over to you as she sat on the edge of the bed, handing her over to you.

“I can’t believe she’s here.” You said, pressing a light kiss to your daughter’s cheek.

—

“We need a name, le.” You tell her as Leah’s was having skin to skin time with little miss.

Yours and Leah’s parents had come and gone, visiting the newest member of the family, who still didn’t have a name.

“How about Charlotte after your grandad Charlie?” Leah suggested, looking at the baby on her chest. “You’ve always spoken such good things of him.”

Your grandad was your hero growing up, he was always the man you looked up to, along with your dad, and naming your daughter after him was such an honour.

“I love it, le. Charlotte Alessia Williamson.” You said, repeating her full name.

“Charlotte Alessia Williamson. Hi, Charlie.” Leah cooed at Charlie, Charlie’s eyes opening to look at Leah.

A frown appeared on Charlie’s face, identical to Leah’s and Amelia’s.

“Another Williamson frown I have to deal with, great.”

—

“Hi, Ami.” Leah cheered as she opened the hospital door to Amelia and Alessia.

“Sissy?” Amelia questioned and Leah nodded, a massive smile on her face as she pointed to you holding Charlie.

“Be careful of mama and sissy.”

“Hi, Le. Congratulations.” Alessia said, hugging Leah as she also walked over to you and baby Charlie. “She’s tiny.” Alessia whispered, as both her and Ami just started in awe at the baby in front of them.

“Do you want to hold sissy?” You asked Ami, who nodded.

You helped Amelia prepare to hold Charlie before placing Charlie in her arms.

“Love you, sissy.” Amelia babbled, pressing a kiss on her head.

You took a picture of the interaction, wanting to remember it forever.

“Would auntie lessi want a cuddle?” You questioned, a smile resting on your face as her face lit up.

Alessia took Charlie in her arms, gently swaying side to side due to Charlie letting out a small cry.

“What’s her name?” Alessia asked as you looked at Leah.

“You tell her.” Leah said

“Her name’s Charlotte Alessia Williamson.” You told Alessia, her jaw dripping in shock.

“Alessia? As in like me Alessia?” Alessia asked, her face still full of shock.

“You’re not even like a sister to me anymore, less, you are my sister as far as I’m concerned and there was no other person we wanted to name our daughter after, then you.” You explain and Alessia bursts into tears, hugging you and Leah tightly.

“Thank you so much.” Alessia said through tears.

“Thank you, less.”

Alessia left later on, leaving your little family of now four.

You and Leah cuddled up in the hospital bed, watching your two girls sleep.

“Thank you for giving me the perfect life.” Leah whispered

“Thank you too, Le.” You replied, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

<Y/NWilliamson posted>

Liked by alessia, bethmead_, leahwilliamsonn and 242,930 others

Welcome to the world, Charlotte Alessia Williamson. Me, mummy and your sister love you so so much 🤍

alessia @kyracooneyx. see I’m the better auntie, they even named her after me

^ Y/NWilliamson The birth certificate hasn’t been officialised, I can always change it if you continue your be childish.

^ alessia fine, mum 🙄

Stanwaygeorgia flight tickets all ready, see the four of you soon!

bethmead_ look at her, can’t wait to meet you Charlie 💗

Leahwilliamsonn little miss 💕

[siempre-bucky]

Sweet Dreams

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: After soothing Jake after a nightmare, Jake comforts his son after one of his own

wc: 1.1k

warnings: talks of nightmares

A/n: It's been a HOT minute since I've written anything. Please enjoy some domestic hurt/comfort :')

“Was the mission successful, Lieutenant?” 

“Rooster and Mav… I-I wasn’t fast enough?” 

Jake jolted awake; cotton-mouthed, and forehead ridden with beads of sweat. He almost forgot he was shaking until he felt the soothing touch of your hand slide down his bare bicep. The fire in his lungs started to subside as you turned him around, the cold from the fabric of your nightgown soothing his chest once he was pressed against you. “What happened?” you whispered into his ear.  

“Same shit as every year, darlin’,” he whispered back, lips dancing along the crook of your neck. You let him stay silent after that, his hands roaming the body he knew almost better than his own. His bloodshot eyes closed, nose pressing deeper into your neck as if it would help him memorize the new perfume you had bought. 

You sighed and held him close, fingertips scratching the nape of his neck for his comfort. It was like this every October since the mission the Navy deemed a miracle. Jake would mark off the days on his calendar with a red pen and the nightmares came back when night fell. “My love?” you spoke after a while, making sure he was still with you. 

“It was the one with Mav and Rooster,” he managed, pulling back to lie down on his pillow. 

You followed him, wrapping your arms and legs around him with your head on his chest. “You could always call Rooster,” you mostly joked, “check in on him.”

“No way in hell am I gonna call Slow Ride,” he pouted. Even though he did once, on the one-year anniversary of the mission when the nightmares were at their peak. The blond rolled his eyes at your knowing giggles, he playfully shoved you away and got up from the bed. “I’m going downstairs for water, you want anythin’?” 

You shook your head and got back under the blanket, turning away from him. Jake smiled kindly in return and made his way out of the room, fingers gliding along the wall to ground him. He was in this house, he was part of a team because he succeeded, Rooster’s a part of that team. It became his mantra as he descended the stairs, eyes glued to the floor. 

The kitchen light was already on, it took Hangman a few seconds to register it. His brows furrowed at the freezer door that was still cracked open from the last user. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, he shut both doors and turned towards the island. “Jesus,” he cursed in shock, seeing his son silently sitting there, wrist deep in the tub of ice cream. “What are you doin’ up, son?” he breathed, masking the panic. 

Luke looked up from his phone, matching bloodshot green eyes meeting his. “Late-night snack,” the thirteen-year-old responded. Jake could see beyond his answer, he knew the way his shoulders were hunched and the slight tremor in his hands—he knew it all too well. Plus he wore the faded Navy hoodie that used to be his father's, he wore it whenever you or Jake went on a mission.

“Luke,” Jake said, turning on the dad voice he perfected. He rounded the island and took a seat on the bar tool beside him, stealing his son's spoon. 

“It’s nothing, dad,” Luke grumbled. 

“Bullshit,” Jake smirked, raising his brows. “You know what your ma would say.” 

 Luke rolled his eyes and threw his head back in defeat. “I had a bad dream, but it’s alright! I’m not a baby, we don’t need to talk,” I’m a man now, men don’t talk about bad dreams. 

As if he could hear his thoughts, Jake took his pointer finger and poked the side of his head. He earned a weak smile in return “We don’t talk like that in this house, son, you know that.” Sucking it up was never an option in the Seresin household, not in this Seresin household. 

“I dreamt that you and mom didn’t make it back— no one made it back—grandma and grandpa didn’t want us,” Luke began to say, his grip tightening around his phone. Jake draped an arm around his son's shoulders and pulled him closer. “We had nowhere to go, we were alone.” 

“I’m right here, your mom's right upstairs, and your uncle Javy is a phone call away,” Jake reminded him calmly. Luke’s frame relaxed, his head finally leaning on Jake’s shoulder. “You know there’s a plan if something happens, we’d never leave you alone, kiddo.” 

The two Seresin men sat in silence for a while, the ice cream on the counter beginning to melt in front of them. “I’m afraid to go back to sleep,” Luke admitted after a while. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“D-did you have a nightmare too?” 

Jake’s lips thinned, his initial reaction was to deny it, suck it up, and move on as his dad beat into him growing up. But even in his darkest time, he was still an example to his children, “Yeah, but it was just a dream,” he nodded along with his words, then he nudged him, “but there’s someone who always makes it better.” 

You felt restless after Jake left the bed, tossing and turning, turning the lamp off and on until it remained permanently on while you waited for your husband. When the door started to creak open, you sat up, the blanket pooling around you. Of course, you expected a six-foot aviator to walk through the door, but you didn’t expect the lanky boy by his side “Hi honey,” you greeted Luke, your eyes fixed on Jake cautiously. 

“Got room for another tonight? told him you’re the best sandman around,” Jake questioned, sending you a look. Taking the hint, you smiled and opened your arms. Your son grinned and crawled into the bed, hugging you tighter than normal. It all made sense. 

Jake climbed in beside you, pressing a kiss to your temple before getting comfortable. 

“Want to talk about it?” you asked, pushing back his hair. 

Luke shook his head, pulling out his dog tags and running his fingers along your name and call sign. “No,” he muttered, “Dad and I already did…I’m feeling better. Just sleepy.”  He pulled the blanket to his nose, slipping off you and finding his place in the middle. You playfully covered his eyes, making him laugh which resulted in Jake turning around to face the action. You and Jake locked eyes, your hand left Luke’s face to brush along your husband's face. 

Jake wrapped his hand around your hand, pulling it closer to kiss your palm. “Goodnight boys, sweet dreams.”

[maciouxes]

still there.

pairings: gn!reader x zombie!simon riley

warnings: mentions of disease, infections, gore, violence, alcohol and the occasional cigarette.

genre: angst, hurt/no comfort, go be happy elsewhere.

this is my first fic and by the time it’s posted, i’ve probably proofread it a million times, but feel free to correct my English as it’s not my first language and i’m not very confident.

It was the 360th day after the outbreak. Or was it the 361st? You couldn’t remember anymore. What was the point in counting the days after the most miserable, dreadful tragedy had struck and taken away the one you loved the most? You smoked one of your last cigarettes from the stock—helped take the edge off things, you told yourself. But did it ever? No.

Not when you were sat on a chair in front of the door that led down to the basement. The basement in which you still kept Simon—or whatever was left of him.

Simon. Simon Riley. Your Simon. Your Si. Your husband. The man you promised to outlive the world with.

“We are going to kick the world’s arse together, love.” Simon would whisper in your ear as he spooned you in bed. You would pretend not to hear him so he would keep talking—he was never much of a talker. But he liked to whisper sweet nothings when he thought you couldn’t hear him.

You stared at the wedding band on your finger, worn and still stuck on your phalange, though it was quite clearly too tight for you. How would you get it resized anyway? You took another drag. You heard a creak, the clankings of the chain and a grumpy grumble downstairs. Simon.

He was a veteran. After a severe injury during a torture session, which Simon never recovered from, he was honorably discharged. It took him years to even bring it up. Years to heal from it enough to open up to you about how much it hurt. To let you hold him through a nightmare about that night, his arm turning limp in your lap as if his tendon had been cut all over again, as if his arm was mangled again, his forehead, his scalp and the back of his neck and his back in general all drenched in a cold sweat. He wasn’t crying, but he was clearly disturbed, his whole body unresponsive as he leaned paralyzed against you, eyes wide as he stared into nothing with a haunted expression on his face. You just held him until he snapped out of it. Startling him out of it, as gentle as you were with it by poking him, would only make him gasp like he had come up from the ground of the ocean after a long swim; he wouldn’t speak; only shut down and go back to sleep with his back turned to you. And he wouldn’t speak to you the next morning.

Simon was infected early on into the outbreak. And you could never leave the house without him. You could never leave him. Never. You promised—you swore.

“Don’t go, please, God—not you too, please, please—” Simon scrambled out of bed as you got up from the mattress. He had a nightmare, he wasn’t entirely himself. Simon would never act this way. No; he had too much decorum. He was too reserved. Too afraid to let himself be known on a deeper level than simple pleasantries. “I need you—I, I need you. Don’t leave me. Please.” He pleaded, nearly falling off the bed as he grabbed at whatever body part of yours he could reach first to pull you back towards him. His eyes were so full of tears you didn’t even think he could see straight. He wobbled in place, unstable, dizzy. But you couldn’t leave him.

“I won’t. I promise, Simon. I just need to refill your water bottle. Do you want to come with?”

He was sick that night. Coughing like a madman, sweating, unable to breathe. He was scared. Tossing and turning in bed. As the days went by, he became less and less agitated. The fevers got higher, rendering him only half-lucid half of the time. He was bedbound for two weeks before he turned. He didn’t suffer, though. On the last two days, he was so feverish that he passed out. The color draining from his face. He was dying, and he was unable to give you any last words.

Those days were over. In a sick way, you were conflicted. On one hand, to your satisfaction, Simon wasn’t suffering anymore, but on the other, Simon wasn’t there with you anymore. Not really. Not entirely. You weren’t completely sure. It looked like Simon, if only a little bit. He was still muscular, tall and handsome as your husband always had been. The scars had changed; they had gotten uglier. Like black, decaying tissue that littered his skin, which previously had a pinkish, cool undertone, and now looked like nothing in particular. It was a grayish, sickly purple. Like no blood flowed through it, like no semblance of life was in it. Like a living corpse. His hair hadn’t grown in nearly a year, it was the same as you remembered; that shaggy haircut that you had pleaded Simon to change, but he swore it made him charming. His beard was still the same, short blond stubble, although dirtier and more unkempt.

And God, the eyes—the once beautiful brown eyes, that looked like pools of the sweetest honey in the summer sunshine in the late afternoon. Lifeless. Bloodshot like they would implode at any second. But there was no blood flowing—of course there wasn’t. He was dead There was no other color on his face. His complexion was pale and sickly. There was no color on his lips. The freckles looked blueish on his skin. If there was any blood flowing, you would have noticed at least a little bit of color, you figured.

Rationally, you knew, he was dead. Gone. He didn’t remember you. He didn’t know his own name; at least not until you called it. He would make a full body turn if you called him his full name, “Simon Riley!”, all angry as if you could ever be mad at him, and yet you knew deep down—it was nothing. It wasn’t Simon. It was a muscle memory response, devoid of any meaning. He didn’t understand what those words meant.

But God, was it hard to believe he wasn’t there. You watched him throughout the day sometimes. Checked on him. Brought him food. As if you would hear a soft ‘thank you’ in his Mancunian accent. As if he would give you a kiss on the cheek if you made his favorite meal to please him. He didn’t. There was no whisper, and there was no kiss on the cheek with those chapped lips that you begged him to moisturize. He just stared at it with a hollow hunger. Like he was hungry but couldn’t feel hunger. Because he was dead. And eventually, he crouched and ate it with his bare hands like some kind of animal.

You are watering a dead plant, a rational part of you told you, seeing your husband that way. So careless, so animalistic in a way Simon could never be if he were still alive. He wasn’t some refined bourgeoisie asshole, but he had manners, at least. Simon wouldn’t act this way.

He’s dead. And you knew it was right. You watched with tears in your eyes as he ate up the food you made him with his bare hands, spilling and dirtying his grimy hands like a toddler who couldn’t hold a spoon properly. Simon would never. He didn’t like you touching his face to wipe away crumbs. He’d gently push your hand off his face, grumbling about how he was “a big boy” who could wipe the crumbs off on his own, in front of a mirror. He would never be caught dead like this. Yet there he was, you supposed.

You rushed upstairs and left Simon to his own devices in the basement, which you had worked tirelessly on to convert it to a bedroom. You gave him an old, creaky bed even if you knew he didn’t need to sleep anymore. You cleaned the basement from time to time. All to make him comfortable. As if he would notice.

You slammed the door shut and locked it from the outside, then the two padlocks and the lock you had placed to bolt that door to the ground.

Damn it—damn the world for taking him away and leaving you with this husk of who he was, a shell of his former self. This God forsaken decoy of Simon, that still smelled like him. Like gunpowder, cigarettes and neat whiskey. His favorite cologne was still on that fucking sweater. His favorite sweater, a black turtleneck that clinged to his waist just right. It was filthy now.

You could watch him all you want. Watch him idly stand in the middle of the basement and stare at nothing, watch him try to pull on the chain that you attached to his ankle so he could be free to eat you alive. But it was never the same.

Sometimes you would be able to make out words that Simon would say a lot, being grumbled clumsily by this doppelganger of your husband, which was falling apart where it stood. “Jo—hnny.” “Capt—ain.” “Rog—er.” “C—–opy.” “L–love.” “Lo—vie.” “Watch.” Sometimes it would laugh exactly like Simon did. Sometimes it would say some strange nothings, as if trying to tell you something. Sometimes, if it heard a familiar sound, it would mimic Simon’s mannerisms as if practicedly. If the safety of a gun clicked, Simon would pull out an inexistent gun and pull the trigger, or pretend to assemble and reload a rifle. If a phone rang, he would wait for the third ring before reaching for his pocket and picking an imaginary phone up, the way Simon did when he was there, grumbling something about “if they’re calling despite being ignored, it must really matter,” calling it filtering his calls. If the microwave rang as you were heating up food, he would grab an imaginary dish and pretend to burn himself with it as he stubbornly never wore gloves to pick up boiling hot dishes. The stunt double had gotten him down to A T.

And the worst part was that it was enough for you.

It was enough for you to install traps all around the house, keep Simon strung up in your basement and throw down meals for him, sometimes live animals for him to tear up like a starving wild dog.

Simon had tried to bite you more times than you could count; but you had forgiven him each and every time. You didn’t hold a grudge. You told him you still loved him. You told him he was still your Simon. That he was beautiful. You wept as you asked him not to be afraid—as if he felt anything at all. You didn’t know if he did. In your head he did.

You sometimes heard him beg for help as he babbled incoherently, his Mancunian accent alive and well, his voice and speech getting worse and worse each day. He sounded more incoherent as the days went by, more animalistic. The words slowly became animalistic nothings, growls and grumbles that meant nothing. He was rotting from the inside out, decaying and perishing right before your very eyes. The longer you waited, the more the virus consumed what was left of Simon. Each day he smelled worse. You bathed him, of course. But it didn’t go away, the stomach-turning smell of rotting flesh. You tried to get him to brush his teeth, but nothing could mask the smell. Not even if you bathed him in his cologne.

But the fact that the zombie looked like him and sometimes sounded like him was enough for you. Putting it that way, it sounds sick, but it justified all of the work you had put in. It was enough to keep you hopeful, keep you thinking—or rather, fooling yourself into thinking—that there was still a way to bring him back, enough to keep you praying on your bedside each night, begging to have your Simon back. You were absolutely confident he was still there to some extent. That it was just a matter of time before someone found a cure and you and Simon would be free of this hell.

Free to kick the world’s arse together. The way he had intended. Until then, you were rotting in this farmhouse. Until Simon came back to you. Until your last cigarette was finished. Until the last tooth decayed and fell from his putrid mouth.

[digital-corruption]

I am still angry with past me for leaving a large, major gap in story and skipping ahead. Filling the gap has been difficult. I'm not happy with how it turned out, but I need to move on. It's long, however, there wasn't a clear point to cut it in half so enjoy a double length chapter, I guess.

Unrecognisable Part 53

The next morning I woke to the sound of a distressful wail. In one swift movement, I leapt off the couch and ran out of the office. I found Jake pacing rapidly back and forth while clawing at his scalp. His eyes were wide, his face pale, his forehead soaked with sweat while rambling incoherently in German. I ran over and put my arm around Jake to encourage him to take a seat, then grabbed his water bottle and pushed it up against his mouth. At first he ignored the bottle, but he eventually drank from it.

“Did you take the prescription?” I asked as I lowered the bottle.

“Yes,” he sneered.

I rubbed his shoulder gently, “Did you take anything else?”

He hesitated, then looked up at me, “Everything hurt.”

“Jake,” I sighed. “You can’t be mixing drugs with your prescription. We don’t know what it will do to you. Look at you now! Shit, we have to get you to a hospital.”

“No!” Jake shook his head widely. “No hospitals!”

“We don’t know how badly this will affect you!” I exclaimed. “What there is complication!?”

“I will be fine,” he gritted his teeth.

“This is not fine,” I glared.

“Fucking Richy,” Jake spat. “He couldn’t even kill himself right! Should’ve cut himself. More efficient. Less risk of failure. Should let me finish what he fucked up.”

“Jake,” I sighed.

“This- all of this is his fault!” he snapped.

“And he’s currently paying for that,” I reminded him. “Cursing him isn’t going to get you out of this.”

Jake was quiet for a moment, “It’s not enough.”

“What’s not enough?” I questioned.

“His punishment. He deserves worse,” Jake’s expression turned dark. “He’s been given an easy out.”

“What, do you want to trade places? Prison isn’t fun and games, Jake. After we saw Richy a couple of weeks ago, I can tell he’s having a hard time coping in there. And now we know he’ll be in there for the rest of his sentence,” I argued. “We just need to be patient until we find the right prescription for you.”

“I am being patient!” he snapped.

“Patient means not taking illegal drugs,” I narrowed my eyes.

 “I can’t- I can’t live with the pain,” he sneered.

“So we ask Dr. Cumming what pain medication won’t mess with your prescription,” I said firmly.

“Fine,” Jake turned away.

“How are you feeling now though?” I asked concerned.

Jake tilted his head to the side, “Passable.”

I glanced around the room. It was clear that Jake had been working all morning at his desk, but I saw no evidence of food. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I don’t know,” he grumbled.

I lowered my shoulders in disappointment, “Have you been up all night?”

“Yes,” he muttered.

“So, it’s been over 12 hours. You had your prescription and drugs on an empty stomach with no sleep?” I frowned.

“The prescription was meant to help me sleep. It did nothing,” he clarified.

I rolled my eyes, “And your excuse for not eating?”

“I wasn’t hungry,” he insisted. “I’m still not.”

“Uh-huh,” I stood up straight again and offered my hand to Jake. “Let’s go downstairs and eat together, ok?”

“I’m not hungry,” he reiterated.

“Yes, you are, you just don’t realise it,” I pushed. “At least do me the favour of keeping me company while I eat?”

Together we went downstairs and I served us two bowls of muesli. While I ate, Jake spent most of the time pushing the grains around his bowl, not raising the spoon to his mouth once. Aside from force feeding him, there was nothing else I could do. If he didn’t want to eat, then he wasn’t going to eat.

The next few hours Jake worked intensely at his desk recovering the back-ups of our old phones from his secure cloud storage and uploaded them to our new devices. I watched him while he worked as it was clear something was wrong. He lacked focus and concentration, got frustrated at little things, and was incredibly twitchy as he worked. Dare I even say it took him longer than usual to complete his tasks? The prescription was definitely not agreeing with him.

After a few hours he presented me with my phone nervously while avoiding eye contact with me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he lied and shook his head. “I thought you would be happy to have your phone restored.”

“Jake, I can only be happy when you’re happy and I can tell something is wrong,” I pointed out.

Jake closed his eyes and sighed, “It took me twice as long as it should have.”

“I noticed you were having trouble concentrating,” I nodded.

Jake sneered, “That might be ok for you, but I can’t- I can’t afford to be slow! I can’t risk mistakes or delays in my mental processing! It could mean life or death!”

“Did you just call me slow?” I raised my eyebrow.

“MC, the difference between us is as wide as the ocean,” he rolled his eyes. “That’s not what’s important here! I can feel it! I can feel it making me dumber!”

“It’s not actually making you dumber. You’re just having trouble focusing. That might be because you’re low on blood sugar from, you know, fasting,” I tried to assure him. “Tonight we’ll see Dr. Cumming and we’ll ask to try something else. Clearly this compound is not working for you.”

Jake rubbed his face with both hands in frustration, “What if the next prescription is worse?  I can’t suffer another day of this! I’m not a fucking lab rat! We can’t afford me to be impaired this severely!”

“Jake, it hasn’t even been one day. You have to give Dr. Cumming a chance to figure out what works for you,” I argued.

Jake mumbled under his breath in German, then walked off to his desk and slumped back into his chair. He pulled out his earphones and shoved them in his ears. As good as they were, I could still hear heavy metal music as clear as day, which meant he had the volume far too high.

I was not looking forward to taking him as he was to see Dr. Cumming. As if the good doctor needed more of an excuse to institutionalise him. Of course I knew his arguments were sound, but my mind just kept coming up with a hundred different ways the agents could infiltrate the facility and silence Jake permanently. Pseudonym or not, it would only be a matter of time before they found him. Dr. Cumming and his staff had no idea what they were dealing with. How could I possibly trust them with protecting Jake?

I picked up my new phone and unlocked it. Sure enough, my old home screen was restored along with my contact list. I quickly scrolled through it and noticed that Jake had added Dr. Cumming himself. Despite everything, he still wanted to make sure I could contact the doctor quickly in an emergency. I closed my eyes, struggling to keep composed. I could feel how panicky he was becoming. I slapped my face and gritted my teeth. I had to keep it together. For Jake.

Glancing at the clock, it wasn’t quite time to leave yet, but I needed a change of pace and scenery.

“Jake, why don’t we get dinner on the way?” I suggested.

He of course couldn’t hear me over the music. I stood up and walked over to his desk. Carefully I leant over and pulled one earphone out, but it still caught him by surprise. He freaked out and jumped.

“What the fuck, MC?” he snapped.

I had to resist the urge to slap him. “I asked you a question.”

“Did you?” he lowered his shoulders and pulled out the other earphone. “Sorry, I didn’t hear.”

I rolled my eyes, “I’m surprised you can hear anything with the volume that high.”

“I needed detach,” he admitted.

“It has all been very stressful for the past few days. I think we could both use a change of pace. Why don’t we eat on the way to the doctor’s office tonight rather than eating here?” I repeated.

“What, like at a restaurant?” he questioned.

“Or a café. Or a diner. Hell, we could just grab some food from a truck and eat at a park,” I suggested. “It doesn’t have to be anything sophisticated or fancy. Just, you know, something different. While we’re not actively being chased across the city.”

“We could probably manage eating at a small, lowkey restaurant,” he conceded. “Something that wouldn’t expose us much.”

“Great, I’ll see if I can find one online,” I nodded and stood upright again.

“Actually,” he paused. “I know of one.”

“You do?” I said surprised.

“I remembered the other day that there is an Italian restaurant not far from the station that I ate at once years ago. I remember it was rather private,” he opened his browser and did a quick search on his laptop. “Yes, it’s still there.”

“Sounds great!” I smiled. “If you’re happy eating there, then let’s do it!”

“It’s just food, right?” he asked apprehensively.

“Oh God, it’s not a date, Jake,” I laughed. “Dinner and a therapy session is not date night material.”

“Hmm, ok,” he scratched his head.

“Give me five minutes and we’ll go, ok?” I started backing up towards the stairs.

“Ok,” he replied as he stuck his earphones back in and went back to working on his laptop.

I rushed downstairs to the bathroom and got myself ready to go out. Twenty minutes later I was cleaned up and nearly presentable. Jake however did nothing and yet still somehow looked hot. I silently cursed him for being able to pull off the unkempt look so well.

While Jake walked to the train station as moody and broody as ever, I had to admit I had a slight bounce in my step. It was the first time in a while that we were doing something even remotely fun. And this time I was convinced it couldn’t possibly backfire. ‘Unless the restaurant was actually a Mafia front…’ I thought to myself, then immediately wiped it from my mind. Even if it was, I was just going to close my eyes and pretend I saw nothing.

On the train, Jake watched me with a bewildered look in his eyes. I must have been doing a terrible job at hiding my excitement over what was quite honestly a simple dinner. The ride felt endless though, each stop had me silently cursing the other passengers boarding our train and their inability to get on quickly. I wanted to shout “Hurry up!”, but I bit my lip and fought the urge. As soon as we reached our stop, I pushed my way through the crowd then audibly sighed with relief as my feet touched the platform.

“This is the problem with traveling earlier,” Jake commented. “We put ourselves into the worst of rush hour.”

“No, it’s fine,” I shook my head.

“No one touched you, did they?” he asked me out of concern.

“What? No! Why would you think that?” I frowned.

“You were angry and impatient with the crowd. Like you were uncomfortable and couldn’t wait to get off the train,” he explained. “You would tell me though, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, of course!” I insisted. “No, no one touched me. I’m excited about dinner, I guess.”

“Just for dinner?” he questioned in disbelief.

“I know, it’s crazy!” I laughed. “Well, you know the way, right?”

“Um, yes, we should take the south exit,” Jake gestured to the signs above.

“Ok, lead the way!” I encouraged.

Jake put his hands back into the pockets of his hoodie as he started to walk towards the escalator for the south exit. Somehow that annoyed me and I rushed to his side. Without hesitation I reached my hand into his pocket and slipped my fingers between his. This surprised him and he stiffened briefly, but then relaxed as he kept walking. His fingers melted around mine and actually resisted letting go when we reached the narrow escalator. However, there wasn’t enough space to stand side by side, so he reluctantly released my hand and put his hand on the small of my back to encourage me in front of him. Standing on the escalator, I turned towards him and for the first time in days, I saw warmth in his eyes. I couldn’t resist leaning over and kissing him just as we reached the top.

“What was that for?” he asked as we walked off.

“Nothing, I just felt like it,” I smirked.

Jake took my hand again as he led the way towards the street, “I wasn’t sure I deserved any after earlier.”

“There’s going to be a lot of hard days. That’s to be expected,” I shrugged.

“Still, my behaviour was inappropriate and disrespectful,” he mumbled.

“I’m glad you realise that,” I squeezed his hand as we meandered around people walking in the opposite direction on the footpath.

“I wish…” he hesitated for a moment. “I wish you didn’t have to see me like that.”

“Jake, I still choose to be here with you. As ugly as it gets, I’m not leaving your side,” I assured him.

“And I am grateful you are here. I just don’t want you to be exposed to that is all,” he sighed. “Hmm, oh, there it is.”

Jake gestured a small, little entrance on the side street. I would never have noticed it had he not pointed it out. We approached the front of the warm restaurant and were immediately greeted by a young hostess in German. She led us inside to a private booth, on Jake’s request. The table was positioned rather far in the back of the restaurant, but had good access to the rear exit of the building via the kitchen. If, you know, you were into that kind of a quick exit. Jake took the side that had good line of sight to the entrance while I faced the back of the restaurant. I would’ve preferred he rested, but I knew he preferred to keep watch over everything.

The restaurant itself was warm with that touch of familial Italian heritage that made feel that little more at ease. The walls were covered with photos of the owners and the various patrons they had over the years, some more famous than others.

“Does this satisfy your preferences?” Jake questioned as he lifted his menu.

“Oh, yes, very much,” I beamed and looked down at my menu. “Although trying to decide on what to eat is going to be the greatest challenge yet.”

“If… if you find this enjoyable, we could return,” he mumbled.

I glanced up from my menu and smiled, “Look at us. We’re almost a normal couple. Doing normal couple things.” I paused for a moment, then continued in a hushed voice, “Please tell me you brought cash and aren’t planning on using someone else’s credit card.”

“You do understand the cash isn’t ours either?” he reminded me.

“There’s a difference between a drug dealer and some Joe Schmoe in Atlanta,” I frowned.

“Assuming Joe Schmoe isn’t a criminal either,” Jake diverted his gaze to his menu. “Maybe he’s even worse. Maybe he is a corporate lawyer.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s your idea of worse?”

“Hmph, one, society has determined, is legally acceptable to be a douchebag and screw with people’s lives,” he sneered. “They will never face any reprimand for the damage they’ve caused.”

“Ok, fair enough,” I conceded.

There was a calm silence between us as we both examined our dinner choices. I could feel Jake’s occasional gaze on me, but whenever I looked up, he darted his eyes away. After a few minutes our waitress came over to take our orders. As she only spoke German, Jake had to act as an interpreter, but we got there in the end.

When the waitress left, I noticed Jake’s hand resting on the table and I reached over to place mine on top of his. He did a double take as it caught him by surprise. He stared intently at our hands as I gently stroked my fingers over the back of his hand until he suddenly extended his fingers out. I took the hint and intertwined my fingers with his. Our eyes met and I smiled. His eyes were loving, but distant still. He seemed to be lost in thought, but I had no idea where this thoughts were.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked.

He shook his head, “Nothing.”

“Jake, tell me,” I pushed.

“I was thinking… this is nice,” his eyes pulled away again.

“It is nice,” I nodded. “But you were thinking about something else.”

Jake sighed, “I just wish things could be different. I don’t like how slow it is.”

“Your burns didn’t heal overnight, and neither will your mental health,” I pointed out.

He seethed as if he was holding back on saying something and took a moment to respond, “It’d be nice, to be able to sleep through it though, wouldn’t it? To wake up and be through the worst of it.”

“What, like your induced coma?” I asked, perplexed by what he meant. “No, I’m afraid you have to be awake for your therapy sessions.”

“Yes, I do,” he responded so bizarrely that I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. After a moment, he continued, “I decided I want to make it up to you. For all the shit I put you through for the past couple of days.”

“Oh? What did you have in mind?” I said inquisitively.

“After tonight’s session, let’s pick up a good wine on the way back,” he proposed.

“Jake, you shouldn’t be drinking,” I frowned.

“I shouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t. Why shouldn’t you be able to let loose for a night?” he argued. “You deserve it.”

“Exactly what did you have in mind?” I mused, leaning forwards across the table.

Jake smirked, “I think you know what I have in mind, but if you don’t, then I prefer you to be surprised.”

I shifted uncomfortably on my seat as I leant back. He still knew exactly how to turn me on with just a few words. The thought of proper stress relief and intimacy was so alluring, how could I possibly say no? Our food was served before I could respond though, which was so good that it became all we talked about.

After we finished eating, Jake paid for our meals, then we walked hand in hand to Dr. Cumming’s office. We were a few minutes later than usual, which seemed to have worried the doctor, but as soon as he saw us enter, he relaxed.

“He’s in a good mood today?” Dr. Cumming asked me as Jake went into the back office.

“Yeah! I mean, he had a rough time this morning and afternoon with the prescription you gave him, but then I suggested we eat out for dinner and he really improved. It was quite remarkable actually,” I boasted.

Dr. Cumming seemed surprised, but nodded and disappeared into his office. Within an hour, they exited again and for the first time, Jake wasn’t in an absolute fury, which really warmed my heart to see.

“Good session today. See you tomorrow, Jake,” Dr. Cumming commented.

“I was thinking, maybe it doesn’t have to be everyday,” Jake suggested. “Especially Friday night, doctor. I’m sure you want to enjoy your weekend.”

Dr. Cumming narrowed his eyes, “Jake, as this is a special arrangement, we agreed that it would be every day.”

“Hmm, right, ok,” Jake conceded and opened the door to the hallway. “Tomorrow then.”

“Good night, Jake, MC,” Dr. Cumming glanced over to me, then at Jake.

“Good night, doctor,” I nodded.

I followed Jake out and walked by his side down the hall. There was something off about his expression that I just couldn’t put my finger on. He held his head higher, he was more confident than usual. I didn’t quite get it, but I was ready to accept any improvement.

At the liquor store, Jake chose a rather expensive bottle of cabernet. I tried to talk him out of such an expensive wine, but he wouldn’t have it. He told me he wanted me to have the best. There just was no convincing of otherwise.

As soon as we got back to our hideout Jake went into the cafeteria to grab a couple of glasses. He had his back to me while he filled the glasses at the kitchenette. One glass he filled with just water, which was for himself. Then he popped open the bottle of wine and poured it into the glass. He swirled the wine in the glass and gave it a quick sniff before he turned and handed me my glass.

“To better days,” he raised his glass in the air.

“That’s something I can agree to,” I clicked my glass against his.

The wine was so smooth that I sipped a quarter of the glass with no effort at all. The taste of alcohol was instantly relaxing. I could already feel the stress leaving my body.

“So does this mean you’re feeling better?”  I asked.

“Oh, I don’t know about better. Clearer maybe?” he clarified. “I no longer feel like I’m in a fog.”

“That’s good at least,” I smiled and took another sip.

“How are you feeling?” he questioned.

“Me?” I did a double take.

“Yes you. Your mental health is just as important,” he frowned.

“Honestly? It’s been hard, Jake,” I admitted and drank more of the wine.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he looked down at the ground.

“Angel?” I said surprised.

“It’s what you are, especially with everything that’s happened,” he glanced back up at me. His eyes were full of love. “I am sorry to put you through this.”

“Jake, if you’re already regaining control than it is 100% worth it!” I insisted.

“You mean it?” he tilted his head.

“I do!” I beamed. Suddenly I was hit with a wave of drowsiness. I looked down at my glass confused, “Did I drink that much?”

Jake took the glass from my hand and placed it down on the table, “It’s been a long day and it’s late, angel. It’s ok to be tired.”

I tried to form words, but it was getting harder and harder to think straight. I stumbled forwards into Jake, who caught me. I remembered looking up at him and seeing his eyes. They were cold and calculating. Everything had gone according to plan.

[justamonkeyonautopilot]

Flufftober 2022 Drabbles Ch.13 Secret Family Recipe

[Sorry if this is not very good. I haven't written much since the last update apart from essays for uni. My head spent most this chapter screaming at me that I couldn't use joined words I needed to separate them all out *hides face*.]

Grey’s Anatomy Meredith Grey x Addison Montgomery

Chapter 13 Secret Family Recipe

It was well known that Meredith didn’t cook, well more couldn’t cook so wouldn’t cook. However, Addison coming from the background she had grown up in had been shown how to cook from a young age. So when Meredith had taken ill with the flu and couldn’t get out of bed. Addison knew that she had just the right thing for it. She remembered being shown how to make chicken soup and bread from scratch. It wasn’t very often that she would take the time to cook. Especially as she never really had the time to cook and every minute spent off work she just wanted to spend curled up with her girlfriend. But knowing that Meredith really needed something right now she thought better of getting back into bed with the younger woman. Instead choosing to go downstairs to cook. 

Wandering into the kitchen Addison looked into all the cupboards, hoping to find the ingredients she needed. As expected for two women who tended to order takeout she didn’t find what she wanted. Looking back towards the stairs Addison hesitated before grabbing her bag and shoes. Debating with herself over whether she wanted to go and wake Meredith to let her know she was heading to the shops or whether to let the woman continue to sleep. Knowing that sleep was one of the best healers for a cold, Addison chose to leave Meredith sleeping. Quietly grabbing her bag and shoes, checking to make sure her purse and keys were inside she stepped outside of the house towards her car. It took Addison around twenty minutes to get everything she needed. Stepping back inside the house she stopped listening to hear if there was any movement within the house from the blonde. Hearing nothing she continued back to the kitchen to unpack the shopping bags and start cooking. 

Pouring the soup into a bowl whilst she waited for the bread to finish cooking she looked around the kitchen for a tray to place everything on. Finding one under the sink she placed everything she had so far onto the tray. A glass of orange juice, the bowl of soup and a spoon, as well as the chocolate she had brought. Feeling her phone buzz in her pocket to say the bread was ready to come out the oven, Addison turned and quickly went to the oven. Pulling out the fresh loaf of bread she had made. Leaving it on top of the counter to cool, she filled a hot water bottle before going back to cut a couple of slices of bread. Placing everything but the hot water bottle on the tray, instead choosing to tuck it under her arm before heading towards the stairs. Carefully climbing them one by one and shuffling towards their bedroom in the hopes not to spill anything. Nudging the door open with her foot, followed by her hip she noticed Meredith curled around her pillow - hidden mostly by the blanket. Addison walked in slowly and carefully placed the tray down on the dressing table before sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Meredith’s snoring body. Gently stroking her fingers through Meredith’s hair she started whispering her name in the hopes of calmly waking her up rather than frightening her out of her sleep. Meredith mumbled, turning further into Addison’s pillow. Addison smiled watching her whilst continuing to stroke her hair. “It’s time to wake up now, my love”. Meredith blinked sleepily up at Addison before coughing curling into herself. Addison felt guilty for waking up the blonde seen as she seemed so peaceful in sleep. Unlike now.

Standing back up and walking to the dresser to retrieve everything Addison turned back to see Meredith leaning back against the headboard. Walking back to the bed Addison gently rested the tray on Meredith’s lap. Meredith looked down surprised before taking the spoon and taking a sip of the soup. Moaning in delight at the taste of it. “Where did you get this from?” Meredith watched as Addison flushed.

“I..er..I may have made it for you” Meredith tried not to laugh at the embarrassed look on Addison’s face as she knew that the redhead would be offended. She also knew that laughing would set off her coughing, and she really didn’t want to spill any of the soup. 

“Yes, I understand that. But what brand is this? I don’t think I’ve ever had it before” Meredith continued to eat more of the soup. Before realizing she bread next to the bowl was obviously homemade. 

“No, Meredith. I made this for you” Addison watched Meredith’s reactions to the food with interest.

“Oh God” Meredith moaned again “you’ve got to give me this recipe Addison. It tastes so good, thank you” 

Addison smiled in return at Meredith’s reactions. “I can’t Mer…it’s a family secret” Addison couldn’t resist the giggle at the look on Meredith’s face. 

“Well…you’ll just have to keep making it for me then” Meredith smirked before ripping a piece of the bread off dipping it into the soup. “Oh the bread is good too…Addie you’ve been holding out on me.”

Addison couldn’t help the belly laugh that came out of her at that response. “I should have known the quickest way to your heart was through your stomach”. 

[shions-new-blog-of-stuff]

"50 Reasons to Share a Bed"

(1) Because you're sick. [General Audiences, Sick Episode Fic, Fluff/Comfort] @squashfics @whateverthefuckyouwantiguess @lottathoughts @allen-444 @cilantro24 @likesugarandcyanide @residentdreamy [Featuring: Leon and Catherine (OC)] Leon disappeared downstairs for a while to prepare another meal for Catherine--soup, juice, and meds. Catherine rolled onto her side, watching the rain fall, breathing heavily. This cold or flu, whichever it was, had been weighing her down for days. Half of her still felt guilty--even after how Leon said he didn't mind. But even then, it was his vacation and given his profession he could very easily called in for some important mission.

Yet that other half was glad he was here, taking care of her. She didn't get company as much as she would want, and with grandpa gone, the house felt…lonely? Empty?

The click and groans of the doorknob being turned and the door opening snapped Catherine out of her thoughts. Rolling over, she saw that Leon had changed into his sleepwear, and holding a tray with a fresh bowl of soup, a cup of cranberry-grape juice filled almost to the brim, and little packs of cold medicine. Catherine could faintly smell the aroma of the soup--it was definitely Grandpa's vegetable soup. She sat up, smiling, feeling happy that Grandpa's cookbooks were being used by someone else other than her.

"Dinner's ready," Leon said with a smirk, setting the tray in Catherine's lap.

It was then she saw another bowl of the same soup, and a smaller glass of water. Leon took the extra bowl, and nodded.

Catherine took her bowl, slowly starting to eat. "So…is my kitchen on fire?" After several spoonfuls, she giggled.

"No it's not," Leon replied, tilting his head.

She looked down at the bowl, and then Leon's face.

"…I…really appreciate this. But--"

Leon raised a hand. "No, no buts, Cath. Don't worry, I have a month."

"Aren't you worried about…?"

Leon swallowed a spoonful of soup. "Leaving? Well, it's happened before. Can't really predict if they need me. Focus on getting better."

Catherine hummed and returned to eating. She briefly gazed out the window. The rain just wouldn't stop--raining cats and dogs as the saying goes.

Leon collected the empty bowls and utensils and went downstairs to clean them. An hour passed and he glanced at the clock--it was already 9 at night. The news droned on the TV, with flood warnings and such. He shut the TV off and returned to Catherine's room.

She was asleep, lying on her side and clutching her pillow tight. Closer inspection revealed her shivering, despite the layers of blankets and hot water bottle tucked between them.

Leon carefully climbed into bed, wrapping his arms around Catherine's back and shoulders, holding her close. She hummed and whimpered in her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, and her heart almost popped out of her chest at the sight.

"(yawn) Leon…um…you know you're in my bed, right?"

"Yes." Leon replied without missing a beat.

"Aaaand…your guest room is just down the hall?"

"Yes."

As much as she didn't want to admit it, Leon felt so much better than that hot water bottle. And his heartbeat--it was downright soothing, reminding her of that night in the castle, in which he had carried her to that storage room.

"…So, why?"

"Because you're sick, Cath. And I'm here for you. I'm not going anywhere."

The sounds of rain, Leon's heartbeat, and his warmth all combined to cause Catherine to drift off into a more peaceful sleep. Leon soon followed suit.

Maybe tonight will be one without nightmares.

[thenerdybaker523]

12 Days of Christmas: December 23

@12daysofchristmas @zsjaywhite

Title: Simply Meant to Be

Theme: December 23 (Music/Songs)

Fandom/Character: Jon Moxley

Warnings: Fluffy Sweetness

Word Count: 1012

❄ I don’t own any of the GIFs or Photos in this.

❄ So I couldn’t think of a title so I had to go with a Nightmare Before Christmas line

Donna’s POV:

Getting the phone call from Jon the other night about his flight home was canceled because of the snow storm, I was upset but completely understood. He had called yesterday and told me he was trying to get home, but didn’t know if he’d get home in time for Christmas. Looking out the window I noticed it had let up some, but not by much. So making the best of the situation, I decided after eating breakfast to get a headstart on baking stuff for Christmas. Turning on some Christmas music, I started making cookies. After the cookies were in the oven, I was dancing around the kitchen gathering the supplies I’d need for pies that I didn’t hear or notice the door open. As “Once Upon a December” started, I couldn’t help but belt it out. Not noticing that I was being watched, I continued singing along while preparing the pie filling. When the song was over, I felt arms wrap around my waist, causing me to jump and scream. Spinning around, I couldn’t help but squeal.

“JON!!! How did you get home? I thought you said all flights were canceled.” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him.

When we pulled away, Jon tucked some of my hair that had fallen loose from my bun. “I wouldn’t miss our first Christmas for anything. I ended up renting a truck and driving home. When I called yesterday, I was already on the road. I’m extremely tired though since I drove through the night, so I’m gonna go lay down for a while.” With that he kissed my forehead and headed upstairs.

I turned down the music and continued baking, happier than I was earlier now that Jon was home. I ended up baking until I saw it was almost time to make dinner. Deciding to make something easy for dinner, I got the stuff out to make chicken and dumplings. After getting the chicken cooked and the dumplings made and cooked, I combined them along with the veggies I cut up and let it simmer on the stove while I went upstairs to wake Jon up.

Getting upstairs to our room, I leaned against the door frame watching Jon. He was only in a pair of gym shorts and spread eagle on the bed. I couldn’t help but think about how lucky I was to have him in my life. When we’d met, I’d been in a bad place having just been cheated on, so I’d been unsure about trusting him. But once I gave him a chance, I knew I’d made the right decision. Shaking myself from those thoughts, I went over to the bed, lifting Jon’s arm and climbing in beside him. I started gently kissing his face to try and wake him. Hearing him grumble, he pulled me closer and buried his head in my neck, so I knew it was working.

“Honey, it's time to get up. I have dinner almost ready.” feeling him grumble something in my neck, I couldn’t help but giggle. “Jon, come on. You need to get up. I know you must be hungry.” At that moment Jon’s stomach decided it was the perfect time to growl, proving me right and causing Jon to groan. Knowing I won, I was getting ready to get up when Jon rolled over on top of me, pinning my arms above my head and kissing me. Just as I tried to deepen the kiss, he rolled off of me and got off the bed heading toward the bathroom. I layed on the bed for a second before heading downstairs to check on the chicken and dumplings. 

Seeing that it was almost done, I grabbed bowls and spoons, setting them by the stove, then grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and set them on the island. Turning on a different Christmas playlist, I turned off the stove and was getting ready to put the chickens and dumplings in our bowls, Jon came in, still with no shirt on, and wrapped his arms around me, kissing my head, then sat at the island. Smiling at him, I handed him his bowl and got mine then joined him at the island. As we ate, we talked about what would be going on Christmas day. When we both had our fill, I got up to do the dishes when Jon stopped me and made me sit back down.

“You’ve been busy all day, you sit and I’ll do the dishes.” With that, he kissed me on the lips quickly. Grabbing the bowls and spoons, he went to the sink and started filling it up. As he was waiting, he put up the leftovers, then put the pot by the sink to wash. I just sat watching the way the muscles in his back moved. When he was almost finished, I turned off the music in the kitchen and headed into the living room. Starting the fireplace since I was starting to get cold, I turned on Christmas music again. Grabbing the throw blanket from the couch I wrapped it around my shoulders and stood in front of the fireplace. Swaying to the music, I felt Jon wrap his arms around me and pull me against him. Turning my head, I looked up at Jon as he leaned down and gently kissed me on the lips before pulling away. 

Turning in his arms, I looked up at him, “I love you Jon. I don’t know what I would have done if you wouldn’t have made it home in time for Christmas.”

“I love you too Donna. I wouldn’t have missed Christmas for the world.” With that he kissed me again. When we pulled away, he laid down on the couch and pulled me on top of him. Snuggling into him, I couldn’t help but yawn, realizing how tired I actually was. Feeling his breathing even out, the music in the background and the sound of his heartbeat lulling me to sleep not long after him.  

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3102

this is 1034 times 3.

i got up early today, got ready early, and brought joel in to work this morning. then i stopped at starbucks and went to work, where i sat in the parking lot on the phone with discover student loans getting my loans put on forbearance again because i simply do not make enough money. good news is we were successful and i got that all done before going inside. i was in at work by 9am.

basically right away i started helping people, even before i was supposed to be on the clock. but i figured screw it, might as well help since i'm here. so i did. and then i didn't have people leave my table until 3:45pm. nonstop for six and a half hours. i eventually was able to eat some tuna so o could get some protein in my system, so that was good, but i also ate a bunch of chocolate.

i made plans with some coworkers for tomorrow or thursday and then next tuesday, so i'm excited for those.

i also managed to catch up on filling out reports, which was good. i intend to be better at filing reports this year. so far so good.

after work, i got joel and we came back to the house. i learned friday is gonna be in the negatives, so the big bottles of water were brought in to keep them from freezing. in the meantime i went and took a nap because i was exhausted and 90% overstimulated and needed a goddamn break.

when my alarm went off i hit stop. joel came in shortly thereafter to ask about food. what i didn't realize that "shortly thereafter" wasn't shortly. it was an hour later. i have been so tired lately that i've been basically hallucinating things.

the other day i woke up at like 7:50am because i heard my mom calling me from downstairs. she called me twice, but my voice was sleep-weakened so i texted her instead. i stayed conscious enough to make sure that her phone received my texts and then i rolled over again and passed back out.

i later learned that my texts woke my mom up in the other room. and my texts didn't say what i thought they did. they were, more or less, incomprehensible.

i MEANT to say, "you called me? im still 90% asleep"

and then it was supposed to me "im still sleepy"

and when i realized nothing was right, i went "whatever" and put "zzzzzz" because Z's mean sleeping, right?

mom had no idea what i meant. which makes sense.

so me dreaming something happens and it not happening has gotten more frequent because of my exhaustion.

rip.

after my nap, i woke up and went to find something to eat. i decided on frosted flakes, because that shit slaps, but when i went in search of a spoon, i couldn't find one. the dishwasher was running and there were no spoons in either the drawer or the sink, so i walked around the kitchen in search of a suitable replacement. my consternation at not finding one was palpable.

and then, just when i was ready to give up,

i was blessed by the soup gods, the cereal gods, and the spoon gods alike.

there was a single spoon on the corner of the counter that had not been there moments before.

i looked at it, picked it up, and determined it was dirty, so i washed it so i could use it happily. i sat at the table and ate my cereal and it was really, really nice.

i was still hungry maybe an hour after eating it, though, and j pondered getting mcdonald's. but i made no move, because i was comfortable and i was finally writing again.

and then joel came upstairs around 10 to take a shower and said he hadn't eaten, so i offered to get mcdonald's. he pointed to where his wallet was and said i could use his debit card, so i grabbed my socks and my sweatshirt and my boots and i went to mcdonald's. came back 20 minutes later and we enjoyed hot fresh fries and ice cream and i went back to writing. it's now midnight 41 and we've happily eaten, i've written about a thousand or so words, and joel is sound asleep beside me.

it's been a long and busy and exhausting day, but it's been good.

[casspurrjoybell-24]

My Mate - Chapter 4 - Part 3

*Warning Adult Content*

Sitting my laptop onto my bed, I hopped up in need of something to drink.

After visiting the clinic this morning to see if my stitches could come out, I'd returned home and stayed in my room doing absolutely nothing productive.

Going down the stairs leading up to my room, I threw the door open to hear that I wasn't home alone like I'd thought.

Trying not to be heard, I went downstairs quietly and poked my head into the living room.

Calvin was there and so was Robert.

They seemed to be into whatever movie was playing.

It's like they're making up for the years apart by spending everyday together.

Moon Goddess, you'd think they were brothers.

Going into the kitchen, I yanked the fridge open for a bottle of water that I quickly drunk half of.

I was thirsty.

I started looking around for something to snack on, mostly because I'm too lazy to make anything more fulfilling.

I knew the Alpha male had entered the kitchen but I didn't care to say anything, thinking he'd get something and go.

Grabbing a strawberry yogurt I closed the fridge and turned around, jumping a little seeing Robert so close to me.

He held his finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet.

I did as he instructed, watching his nose flare as he moved closer.

I backed up until my back was against the fridge and watched his questionable behavior.

My lips parted, prepared to ask what he was doing but his nose went to the crease of my neck and I heard him inhale deeply.

I shivered, confused by his behavior until it finally hit me.

There was the minty citrus scent from the orange tic-tacs he always has and the masculine musky scent all dominant males have, under that was the hint of wood smoke and leather.

It just all screamed strong male and as a little gay Omega, that was one of my weaknesses.

I whimpered, feeling my body react to his scent and closeness.

I was confused and a little uncomfortable that it was my brother's best friend making me feel like this.

My instincts had me baring my throat to the stronger male and he growled softly in approval.

"Robert?" I whispered, still unsure about what was happening.

Not that I really knew what was happening.

I just know he smells really good and I'm kinda horny now.

Robert seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in and stepped away from me.

His brows were furrowed as he looked me over, his eyes lingering on my Batman pajama bottoms.

I looked down to see them tented out some and squeaked, covering myself with my hands.

My face burned as Robert's dark brown eyes met mine.

A slow smirk pulled up one side of his mouth and I shivered again as he leaned back in.

His lips brushed against my ear and my breath caught.

"You smell so fucking good, Tory."

I made a choked whimper at the sound of his gruff voice.

"Get yourself upstairs," he growled, making me scamper off with an uncontrollable need to follow any order given by him.

Stupid Omega genes.

By the time I was in my room, I was panting with an aching hard on and the realization that I forgot a spoon.

I didn't go back downstairs until Dad's cruiser pulled into the driveway.

I had played the Sims on my laptop for hours while I tried to forget about what happened earlier.

Not that I really could, it seemed to be the only thing on my mind.

All my sims were pregnant after woo-hoo-ing so much.

How would my future Mate feel if he knew I got a hard on because of his brother?

Moon Goddess, I don't want to think about it.

Cautiously going downstairs, I met Dad as he came in the front door, already untucking his shirt.

Mom wouldn't be home until later, after she made dinner for everyone at the pack house.

"Hey Dad," I greeted, hesitating on the last step.

"Torin," he said in greeting, untying his boots.

"Ready for school tomorrow?"

I groaned at the reminder.

I liked living in denial and so I hated when others reminded me of the things I didn't want to think about.

"Do anything fun at work today? Catch any bad guys?"

I decided to ignore his question and ask my own.

Dad chuckled lowly.

"If you consider having to escort an Omega in heat back home as fun, then yeah."

He kicked off his boots by the door, adding them with the pile of shoes already there.

No, I didn't consider that fun.

Getting your heat in public was the worst thing to happen to anyone and I'm glad Dad was there to escort them to safety.

My own first heat happened at the pack house.

The worst place to ever go into heat.

Well... besides prison.

It was horrible.

The pack house is filled with all the unmated Werewolves.

Most Omegas have at least one Omega parent, I don't and so I didn't have much knowledge about going into heat.

It happened so fast and I had no control over it.

Before I knew it, little thirteen year old me was surrounded by grown males ready to breed me.

Not that they necessarily wanted to but the pheromones coming off me didn't really give them much of a choice.

It was a mess and the Alpha had to command them all out of the house before they could start challenging each other over me.

That was the first time Jasper talked to me.

He took me to his room and tried distracting me until my parents came to pick me up.

He was so sweet.

After that I knew I was in love.

Dad went into the living room and I followed.

There was no sign of Calvin or Robert and I looked around.

It'd make since they'd disappear before dad came home, knowing he'd want to sit in his chair and watch T.V.

That's exactly what he did too.

I walked over to the window to see my brother and his best friend were on the porch in Mom's rocking chairs.

Robert didn't have a coat on and my eyes went to his ink covered arms.

I guess he was nice looking.. in a dirty way.

"Hey pup, could you get me a beer?" Dad asked, already with his legs propped up on his recliner.

I went to the kitchen and got dad one of his root beers that were in the glass bottles.

When I shut the fridge, I was reminded of what took place in here a couple hours ago and how I'd let it happen.

How it couldn't happen again.

Ever.

[grievousdearu]

Faultless Mistakes

"...and this is added in slowly…"

I carefully carried the spoonful of blueish liquid over to the large glass container I was mixing potions in and added it to the mixture.

"And that should be the last thing," I triumphantly state as I put the spoon on the table. "Now all that's left to do is-"

I was looking at the glass beaker when I suddenly went wide-eyed in fear and glanced over at the closed container holding the blueish liquid I just used. I was supposed to be making a mild tranquilizer, but instead, I believe I just made a shock-sensitive incendiary liquid due to using the wrong blue liquid.

I was supposed to use an aqueous solution of copper, but I accidentally used aqueous cobalt. Not only was that expensive, but it was volatile if mixed with potash.

"Shit."

That's all I can think of to do right now. Swear, put my hands on my waist, and recognize my mistake.

Or, rather, at least the mistake that I wouldn't have made if someone hadn't used my equipment yesterday to make a special antivenom.

“Oh but Natalia, he's dying, we need your equipment to make this serum!” I say to myself, mockingly mirroring the excuse I was told the day before yesterday.

Bunch of idiots, honestly. If you go out and try to capture a venomous creature, at least have the antivenom before you get bit. Even I know that much common sense.

The reason I blame them is that they just put things close to where they were supposed to be, just enough to be in the wrong place, but not enough for me to notice immediately.

Long story short; their fault, not mine.

"Ok, no, this is fine-- at least it hasn't gone off yet," I say as I hold my hand to my forehead.

"How do I get it out of here…"

It sounds simple enough, but I know it won't be simply because not only am I on the third floor of the inn, but I'd have to go through a small crowd of people who are trying to throw a small victory celebration or whatever in the main hall. I run through all the options in my head, and I think to myself out loud.

"Could always toss it out the window and hope it lands far enough away from the building," I crack a small, devious smirk and chuckle to myself.

Instead, I nod to myself and grab the thin blanket off my bed, which I gently wrap around the bottle, and trot off downstairs to announce my intentions before I bring the bottle.

"Alright everyone, I need you all to clear me a pathway to the door, I'm going to be coming through with a, uh…" I pause briefly to think about what I am going to tell them. I decide to… extend the truth a bit just to make sure I can get a clear path through.

"I er, accidentally made… a toxic liquid… Yeah, a toxic liquid that can cause really nasty burns on your skin if you get it on you… So I need a clear path to get outside," I tell the now silent crowd.

One lone voice speaks up.

"How tha hell d'ya “acciden'ly” make some shite like tha'?" He asks, with emphasis on ‘accidentally’.

And air quotes.

Well, ok, the air quotes were implied.

"It's complicated; I guarantee you would not understand the answer," I tell him with no remorse for the truth.

The man who questioned me falls silent for a few moments, seemingly thinking about my reply to him.

"Fair 'nough," he says, "let the lass through m'Johnnies," I see him, and many others, stand up and create a clear path to the door.

"Thank you, gentlemen."

I rushedly return to my more permanent quarters to retrieve the botched concoction. I grab the sheets off my bed and cautiously add them to the bundle wrapping already around the bottle- just for assurance- and begin to slowly walk down the staircase with the wrapped container, through the cleared path of adventurers, and all the way outside; thankfully without incident.

After I took the beaker to the nearby pond, placed it in the water, and entertained my inner child by breaking it with a rock, causing the pond to be set ablaze.

After I watched the water burn for a little bit, I returned to my "home" and flopped into my bed, just ready to be done with the day.

I absentmindedly reach for the necklace that's under my shirt and pull it out to look at the ring that's tied to the end.

"You'd have been turning 50 next week,” I say to it. “Imagine that. Big hurdle lotta people anymore seem to struggle to get to, but can't seem to die after they hit it.”

A moment of silence passes between the necklace and me, leaving me almost wishing it would say something back.

"Can't believe I'll be passing your record in just 6 years, mama."

I wipe away the beginnings of a tear from my eye and put the necklace back under my shirt.

"Well, I can't finish the tranquilizer today, need to go to the shop tomorrow to get more materials. Guess I'll just head down for an early dinner tonight."

I get up off my bed and start towards the stairs back down. However, I stop just as I take the first step down and look back at my room, which is cluttered with various alchemy materials, and parchments scattered across the floor, among other messes.

Most people in my line of work would call me a disaster, but honestly… I don’t care.

Here at the Inn, I feel like I can live a new life, different from that which I lived back in Helmholtz.

"Yeah…” I say as I take a moment to reflect on my life.

“I'm doing alright for myself now," I assure myself and set off down the stairs, where the people I currently call my friends are probably getting ready for dinner.

I’m glad I’ve made it here by myself.

[storiesforallfandoms]

take care ~ pete davidson

word count: 1357

request?: yes!

“Can you write a fic where Pete Davidson has a cold and he’s all sneezy and sick and you have to take care of him?? Fluffy fluff fluff lol”

description: in which he gets sick and she gets roped into taking care of him

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

*this one is definitely going to be more of a blurb/drabble than an actual imagine because i’m so bad at writing imagines where someone is sick and has to be taken care of*

It was strange to get a phone call from Pete on a Saturday night. Usually, if he wasn’t filming something else, he would be on set of SNL for the next. You knew something had to be wrong if he wasn’t at work.

You answered the phone and was met with a string of coughs followed by a hoarse, “(Y/N)?”

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“I’m sick,” he said. “They won’t let me go to work.”

“You sound like you shouldn’t be at work,” you told him. “Do you need anything? Do you have soup and flu meds you can take?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been out of bed all day. I have water.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. You loved Pete to death, and you knew that he was just sick so you should cut him a little slack, but you really wondered where he’d be without you and his mom around to help him sometimes.

“Do you want me to pick up some flu stuff for you and bring it over?” you asked him.

“Yes please.”

“What do you want me specifically to bring over?”

“I don’t know...soup? Whatever soup you want, and whatever meds will get rid of my headache and burning fever.”

“Okay. I’ll be over in about an hour.”

“I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you soon.”

You went to the grocery store and grabbed a basket to fill with stuff. You got him a few different cans of soup, mainly chicken noodle and vegetable, a bottle of flu meds, some cough drops and cough syrup, a couple bottles of Gatorade, and two boxes of tissues. The cashier had a good chuckle when she was checking everything in.

You drove to Pete’s place and let yourself in. You could hear him coughing in his bedroom from the front door. You cringed to yourself at how awful he sounded.

He was laying in his bed starring at the ceiling when you walked in. His nose was bright red but the rest of him was pale. He turned his head to look at you and smiled a little.

“Hey,” he said. “Thanks for bringing the stuff.”

“You don’t have to thank me. You probably wouldn’t get much better on your own.” You reached into one of the bags you were holding and tossed the cough drops at him. “Here, suck on one of these for a while. I’ll go heat up some soup for you.”

He popped one of the cough drops into his mouth while you headed downstairs to the kitchen. You opened a can of chicken noodle soup and poured it into one of the clean pans. While you waited for it to heat up, you put the rest of the cans of soup into a cupboard and the bottles of Gatorade into the fridge, leaving one out to take with you once the soup was ready.

When you went back up to Pete’s room, he had managed to sit himself upright with some pillows placed behind him. You put the soup on his lap and the Gatorade on his bedside table, and sat up on the bed next to him.

“You shouldn’t get so close to me,” he said. “You might get sick, too.”

You shrugged. “Oh well, that’s what happens. At least we have a fuck ton of flu stuff if I do get sick.”

Pete started to laugh, but his laughter turned into another fit of coughing. You leaned away from him, a grimace on your face.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay. Did you really try to go to work like this?”

He nodded as he brought a spoon full of soup to his mouth. “I didn’t feel as bad when I woke up. Just had a sore throat and my nose wouldn’t stop running. It progressed from there. I had originally texted the producers to say I wasn’t feeling great but that I’d be okay to come in, and then they called just before I called you and heard how bad I was and told me to stay home.”

“As they should. You can’t exactly go on live TV looking like you just crawled out of the grave.”

“I just don’t like missing the show unless it’s for other work.”

“I know you don’t, you workaholic.”

You reached over and playfully messed up his hair. He batted your hand away, a playful pout on his face. You smiled at him, wishing you could lean over and plant a kiss on those pouty lips.

You both sat in silence for a while as Pete finished his soup. When he was done with that, you both relaxed back on the bed and watched some Netflix.

“Have you slept much today?” you asked him.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t really want to sleep.”

“You should get some rest. It’ll help you get better quicker.”

“I’m not tired.”

You could tell that wasn’t true. He was blinking more than normal and every so often you could see his eyes were starting to droop.

“Pete.” He looked over at you. “Resting when you’re sick won’t kill you. It’ll do the opposite, actually. You’ll get better quicker.”

He sighed. “Fine, I’ll rest. But you gotta stay with me.”

“Sounds like a deal to me.”

He laid down in bed and within seconds, he was asleep. You smiled and shook your head. Again, he was lucky to have you and his mom.

You grabbed his empty soup bowl and brought it down to the kitchen to wash it, leaving the flu meds by his Gatorade in case he needed them when he woke up. You decided to grab yourself something to eat while he rested and watched some TV in the living room as to not disturb his sleep.

You weren’t sure how long Pete was out for, but the sun had set and the room was going dark by the time you heard someone moving upstairs. You flinched when the light suddenly went on, blinding you for a few seconds before your eyes adjusted to the brightness. You looked over to see Pete stood in the doorway of the living room. He didn’t look as pale as before, but he did still seem quite sick.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” you said. “How do you feel?”

“Meh,” he said. “Still like shit, but I think a good nap was what I needed.”

“I’m not going to say I told you so, but just know it’s implied.” He stuck his tongue out at you playfully. “Why are you out of bed, by the way?”

“You weren’t there when I woke up and I was worried you had left while I was asleep. I wanted something else to eat.”

“First off, insulting that you only wanted me here so I could get you things while you’re sick.”

He smiled. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You smiled back at him. “I know, but you could’ve texted me or something. My phone is right next to me.”

“I’ve been in bed all day. I think getting up and moving around will help me feel a bit better.”

You followed him to the kitchen as he decided to heat up another can of soup. You sat up on the counter and watched him making his own meal. As he waited for his soup to heat up over the stove, he looked at you.

“Thank you for coming to take care of me,” he said.

“You don’t have to thank me, Pete.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I am. I really am grateful for it. I’ll make it up to you when I’m not sick anymore.”

“You don’t have to do that either, but I’ll gladly accept whatever you have in mind.”

He smiled at you. “I’d kiss you right now if I wasn’t risking giving you my germs.”

You giggled and kissed the palm of your hand, then blowing in his direction. He lifted his hand to “catch” the kiss, then placed that hand over his heart.

“Dork,” you said.

“You love it.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 6}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelb’s blogs! >> @snelbz​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

The week had passed by in a blur and by the time Saturday came, all Nesta wanted to do was sleep in. 

But she couldn’t.

Sleeping in wasn’t possible anymore. 

Her alarm had been set for seven, but she woke up with the sun peeking through her curtains at 6:45. She looked at the baby monitor on the nightstand. Nyx was still sound asleep in his crib.

With a groan, she covered her head with her pillow and tried to shut out the light, but it was no use. 

She was wide awake. 

May as well enjoy a cup of coffee before Nyx wakes up. Nesta tossed her legs over the side of the bed and tossed her robe over her pajama shorts and tank top. After pulling her long, golden-brown hair back, she was tiptoeing through the hall and down the stairs.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could hear noise coming from the kitchen.

The sizzling of bacon being dropped into a skillet.

She had expected it to be Cassian, of course, but what she wasn’t expecting was what he was wearing.

Or, she supposed, what he wasn’t wearing. 

She wasn’t sure if she should go back upstairs, to give him privacy. But he was the one who had chosen to come downstairs like this, in one of the common areas of the house, so Nesta went ahead and walked into the kitchen. She aimed straight for the coffee pot, grateful to see a fresh pot already in the carafe. “Good morning.”

He turned towards her, that broad, muscular chest on full display, thanks to the white towel wrapped around his hips being the only thing he had on. “Morning, Nes. Hope you want breakfast.”

She continued to make her coffee, which was usually easy, considering it was one spoonful of sugar in black coffee, but she was having a distinctly hard time focusing on what she was doing.

She had seen Cassian without a shirt in before, at the few times they’d both been over to swim in Feyre and Rhysand’s pool, but there was something distinctly different about seeing him wearing a pair of swimming trunks and that towel. That towel that was sitting so low on his hips, she knew there could be nothing underneath it.

He didn’t even seem to notice, didn’t even seem to think about her reaction to him standing nearly nude in the kitchen, making breakfast. His hair was still wet, although the ends seemed to be drying. 

She wondered if this is what he looked like in a towel, what he would look like in the shower.

She quickly shook the thought away, even though it couldn’t help but linger in the back of her mind.

“I’ve got eggs, bacon, and toast,” he said, his back to her. She watched his muscles expand as he moved pans around and turned off the burners. “Simple, but it’ll fill you up. We’ll need all the energy we can this morning.”

Nesta cleared her throat and gave him a nod as he turned to face her. It was true, and Nesta was unexcited about it. The two of them would spend their day trying to find a part-time nanny for Nyx for the days that the two of them were both at work at the same time.

They’d had plenty of applicants, some of whom seemed promising. 

Nesta had her fingers crossed.

A plate was set down in front of Nesta, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at it. There was a smiley face made out of a bacon mouth and egg-eyes. Another plate was set in the middle of the table, piled high with toast and jam. 

“What am I, two?” she asked, gesturing to the breakfast face in front of her.

Cassian chuckled. His plate was piled high with bacon and eggs. No room for faces. He sat across from her and leaned on the table with his elbows. “A little smiley face never hurt anybody.”

She said nothing, just picked up her fork and cut into the eggs. She hadn’t even told him she liked her eggs over-medium, but she was glad she did as the semi-runny yolk spilled out onto her plate. Nesta thought about starting something about it, about asking about food preferences before he assumed something, but it was too early and she hadn’t gotten to enjoy nearly enough of her cup of coffee. It was too early to fight. So instead she picked up a crispy piece of bacon and used it to pick up some of the egg, before popping it into her mouth.

Her eyes slipped closed and she tried not to moan.

How could a simple breakfast taste so damn good?

When she opened her eyes again, she assumed she hadn’t been completely successful in stopping her appreciative noises, because he was smirking at her as he brought his own coffee to his lips.

“Told you I make a mean breakfast,” he said, reaching for a piece of toast and slathering it in blackberry jam.

Clearing her throat, she ignored him and continued eating until her plate was completely empty. Just as she was about to get up to rinse it off, he stood, adjusting that damn towel to fit more snuggly around his hips, and picked up both of their plates. She tried her best not to watch the muscles shift in his back as he rinsed the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. Tried her best, but found herself staring as she sipped from her coffee cup, but snapped herself out of it and got up as well, making Nyx a bottle for when he woke up.

As she shook the formula up, she asked, “Will you be putting clothes on before the applicants get here, or should I warn them this is going to be a clothes-optional interview?”

He glanced at her over a shoulder, as he began to clean the pan he’d cooked the bacon and eggs in, but turned right back to the sink. “Does my nakedness bother you, Nes?”

Damn him, she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“No,” she snapped. “And stop calling me that.”

“So, you like me in a towel, then?” he went on, turning the sink off as he put the final plate in the drain rack.

“You’re exhausting, you know that?” she asked, turning to face him full on.

He turned to her then, one brow raised as he ran a hand through his nearly-dried hair. “I’m just saying, if it bothers you, I’ll be sure to dress before I come down to slave away for you over the stove. But, if it doesn’t bother you, I have to admit that I like to completely dry before I put on clothes.”

No, it didn’t bother her.

No, she didn’t mind having her breakfast with a view.

No, she wouldn’t mind reaching out and feeling just how hard and defined his abs really were.

No, she would never admit to that.

Instead, she raised her chin and said, “I should wake Nyx up so he’s ready before the first applicant arrives.”

“So formal,” he grinned. “And here I thought we were having a nice, pleasant morning.”

A soft cry came from upstairs and she was immediately in motion, all thoughts of those abs and whether or not water from his shower would well in the defined divots of them gone. Snatching up the bottle she’d set on the counter, she turned and headed for the living room and the stairs beyond. “Put some clothes on,” was all

she called back to him as she hurried for Nyx’s nursery.

*

Nesta shut the front door, falling back against the wood, listening as the final interview made her way down the cobblestone walkway.

She sighed and made her way into the kitchen. She needed a glass of wine.

A bottle of wine was more like it, but a glass would do for now.

She found Cassian already standing behind a chair at the kitchen table, the resumes of each applicant spread out before him. “So,” she said, reaching into the fridge for the bottle of chilled, white wine. “What did you think?”

He blew out an equally exhausted breath, before shaking his head. “There was…a lot of variety.”

He was right. There was a woman who had to be in her seventies, who had brought an entire notebook of lesson plans, with her goal to have the one-year-old fluent in French before his third birthday. Then there was the thirteen-year-old who had lied about her age on the application, but promised she could ride her bike the mile and a half from her house every day they needed her. Just not until after three on school days.

“Too much variety,” she agreed. “That last woman was so boring she literally put Nyx to sleep.”

It was true. Nyx was currently sound asleep in the middle of his playmat in the living room, surrounded by his toys. 

“I didn’t mind the retired librarian,” Nesta said, filling her wine glass to the brim. 

Cassian scrunched his nose. “She smelled weird.”

Nesta scoffed. “I don’t think Nyx will be minding her smell. She was smart and was obviously good with him.”

“So was Viviane,” Cassian said, picking up an application off the table.

Nesta blinked. “Viviane?”

“Yeah, Viviane,” he said, showing her the application. “Smart. Bachelors in early childhood education. Lives three miles down the road.”

“Young, blonde, hot,” Nesta added, taking a drink.

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “So you do remember her.”

“I remember that she didn’t have near enough experience and she only listed one reference,” Nesta replied, taking the application and resume from him. She looked it over again. “She can’t be more than twenty-two years old.”

“What does her age have to do with it?” He asked, leaning down on the chair and looking at her. “She’s got good qualifications and Nyx loved her. She was one of the few he actually laughed and wanted to play with.”

It was true, he’d been extremely uncomfortable around most of the applicants. He cried the second a couple of them looked at him and had even spit up on one of them. But he had giggled with Viviane and genuinely seemed to like her.

“She hasn’t worked at a legit daycare or anything, but she’s been a one-on-one nanny before,” Cassian pointed out, as Nesta was reading the same thing on her copy of the resume. “And she said she could get us the numbers of her previous families. She just didn’t want to give them out without asking permission.” He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sounds like she’d respect our privacy, too. But go ahead, keep thinking of reasons she’s not a good candidate.”

Aside from her perky tits and ass, I can’t think of any. The words almost came from her lips, but Nesta ground her teeth.

“We have to agree on someone, and Viviane can start immediately,” Cassian continued. 

Nesta stared at him for a moment.

He stared back, watching as she sipped from her glass. “I swear to the Mother, Cassian, if you fuck the nanny-.”

Cassian barked an unamused laugh. “You think I have absolutely no self control, don’t you?”

“I think you’re basing this choice off of what you want, not what Nyx needs,” she said, not breaking their eye contact.

“She may be hot, but fucking her would be a lot more trouble than it’s worth,” he admitted. “And Nyx is half Rhys. Don’t forget that. He liked to appreciate pretty things just as much as I do, and I’m sure Nyx will, too.”

Scoffing, Nesta set her glass down and went into the living room to get Nyx. “He’s a baby, not a grown man, with raging hormones. You’re disgusting.” She picked him up, still fast asleep from hearing about the nuances of the differences in a sitter and nanny from the old crone they’d spoken with last. “Call Viviane, let her know she starts tomorrow at eight.”

Cassian met her on the stairs. “I don’t work tomorrow, I can watch him.”

Nesta shrugged, but continued up, carrying a drooling Nyx to his nursery. She hadn’t noticed how close to his nap time it had gotten. “Think of it as an exercise in self-control then, and a test run. See how she does with Nyx and see if you can keep your dick to yourself.”

“I’ve kept it from you pretty easily, haven’t I?” 

Nesta refrained from responding as she carried Nyx into the nursery and laid him down, cracking the door open behind her as she left. Walking back downstairs, she retrieved her wine, purposefully ignoring him, though she felt his eyes on her the whole time. She wouldn’t answer his question, was doing her best not to think about it, especially compounded with memories of him this morning.

She had no idea the muscles leading down by the hips could really be so defined. She thought the illustrious V that dragged your eye downwards on most male models was photoshopped in. Cassian, though, very much proved it not only existed, but that it was as distracting as she’d imagined it could be.

“I’m taking a bath,” she announced, heading back for the stairs. “Let Viviane know she got the job, but she can start whenever you want. If you’ll be off tomorrow, we don’t need to pay her to be here.”

She didn’t wait for his reply, and was in her room with the door shut a few seconds later. She took her time filling the bathtub with the things she found under the counter. There were oils and salts and bubbles and soaps, and by the time Nesta settled into the bubbly, warm water, the entire bathroom smelled like a spa. She sipped her wine, refusing to let her mind wander back to Cassian that morning, but by the time her glass was empty, her head was swimming and the water had begun to go cold.

She got out of the tub, watching as the water swirled down the drain and began toweling off.

And then, she had an idea, to give Cassian a taste of his own medicine.

She grabbed a clean, fluffy, white towel and wrapped it around her chest. And then she headed down to the kitchen for a refill.

Cassian was lying on the couch, one arm tossed behind his head, the other using the remote to flip through the stations on the TV.

He caught Nesta the moment her feet appeared at the top of the stairs.

Nesta’s heartbeat a little bit faster with every step she took.

“This is a new look for you,” Cassian said, simply, even though his voice had lowered an octave since the last conversation they had. “Especially considering you took the master bedroom so that you had your own private bathroom to avoid such run-ins with me.”

Nesta tossed her long, wet hair over her shoulder. “I figured it was okay since you’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no desire to crawl into bed with me. I deemed it safe territory.”

The glass still dangled between her fingers and she heard the couch creak as she turned the corner into the kitchen. She may have grabbed a towel that wasn’t quite as wide as the rest of them, one that didn’t quite come as far down her thighs. But if he wanted to prance around in nothing but his skin, she could do the same.

They were both adults. She had no interest in sleeping with him - so she told herself, at least - and he’d said he had no interest in her.

She poured what was left of the bottle in her glass and threw it into the trash with a clunk. She hadn’t realized she had so little left, but was fairly sure another bottle was in the wine cabinet.

Which was in the living room.

When she re-entered the living room, the volume on the TV was nearly silent and Cassian was sitting up, rather than laying down. One arm was draped across the back of the couch and the other still clutched the remote.

She could feel his eyes on her and she took another drink before reaching around the back of the cabinet for the key and unlocking it.

Not only did she grab another bottle of her favorite wine, but also a good bottle of whiskey, too.

“Planning on getting wasted?” He asked, quietly. 

“Just stocking up,” she replied, locking the cabinet behind her. “Care for a glass?”

Cassian looked around the room, as if she would be talking to anyone else other than her. “Sure.”

“Whiskey, I assume?” she asked, going back into the kitchen for another glass. 

The television was a little bit louder when she returned, but not by much.

She sat on the opposite end of the couch, and set the glasses on the coffee table in front of them. After retrieving the glass bottles, she poured.

Cassian remained perfectly quiet as she did so. 

“Is this a truce?” he asked, as Nesta held the glass out toward him.

“This is a celebratory drink to commemorate finding a nanny today,” Nesta said, although her voice held no warmth. “No matter how young and inexperienced and doomed-to-fail she is.”

She held up her wine glass.

Cassian snorted as he clinked his glass against hers.

She wasn’t paying any attention to whatever he had playing on the TV, and she had a feeling he didn’t either, not as she could feel his stare burning into her. Enough so that she crossed her legs, unintentionally causing the towel to raise even higher attention on the outside of her thigh. It almost exposed her entire hip, which she wasn’t anticipating, but she had made the decision to come down here, to tease him by showing him what he had done to her. She wouldn’t let him see how much his gaze was affecting her.

Even if it was just the wine.

Or so she told herself.

She was just about to stand, to make some excuse for going upstairs when he set his glass down on the coffee table and cleared his throat.

“New house rule. Clothes are required in the common areas. Kitchen, living room, dining room,” he said, ticking them off one by one. “Bedrooms and bathrooms are the only places where this is allowed.”

He gestured towards her, without looking, to make sure his point was understood.

“Why?” She asked innocently, and then she threw his own words back into his face. “Does my nakedness bother you, Cass?”

“Quite the opposite,” he admitted, adjusting himself.

Nesta pretended she didn’t notice.

“I thought you had no issue keeping yourself in check with me,” Nesta said, her voice low. “I thought you weren’t some untamed male with raging hormones.”

“I’m not,” he said, reaching to refill his glass. “At least, not until a beautiful woman is sitting a foot away from me, soaked, in a towel, pouring me whiskey.”

“I’m not soaked,” she said, without thinking it through. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

When Cassian looked at her, he grinned, but his eyes were dark. “I meant your hair.”

Nesta knew her plan had immediately backfired, either that or she’d had far too much to drink, so she simply nodded and stood heading back for the staircase.

“Nes?”

She turned back to look at him, halfway up the staircase.

He was smirking, that glass of whiskey resting on the arm of the couch. “If you ever do find yourself soaked, you know where to find me.”

She was up the stairs and slamming her door in a flash, trying to ignore his quiet laughter.

[fandom-puff]

As Time Went On

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Requested by: anon ‘Could I request a Tommy Shelby x reader where it shows your relationship throughout your whole life so like from being friends at a really young age until married in adulthood’

Warnings: mentions of war/violence/sex but nothing in detail. Also, drinking and smoking

Gif creds to owner

“Oi! You’re not allowed here. Girls aren’t allowed,”

You rolled your eyes, concentrating on scribbling the names of the horses your father had told you onto a bit of paper with a blunt pencil.

“Shut it, Shelby. Your Aunt Polly is a girl and she’s always here. Anyway, Dad doesn’t finish in the factory until after closing time and Mum’s too busy taking care of my brother, so shut the fuck up and let me put my bloody bet on,”

Polly smirked into her cup as she walked over to you both, trying not to laugh at the argument between the two seven year olds (although Tommy would constantly remind everyone that he was actually seven and a half). “Alright, Thomas. Go and help your brother, you know he’s bad at sums. You written those horses down for me , love?” She asked, and you handed her the piece of paper. While she checked over your wonky writing, tommy glared at you, sticking his tongue out at you as he walked away.

***

“What if he kicks me? Or throws me off? Or bites me?”

Tommy laughed slightly. “He won’t. Shadow’s a good horse. Even our Ada rides him sometimes. C’mon, I’ll help you up,” Although a little apprehensive, you accepted Tommy’s leg up as you got onto the horse, eyes widening as he shifted. “It’s alright. He’s just getting used to you,”

“I thought girls were meant to ride with their legs on one side,” you said after a while as Tommy began leading the horse slowly around his paddock.

“Only rich, posh girls who don’t know anything about horses,” tommy said. “Us? We know horses. This is how we do it,”

You nodded, smiling slightly as you looked down at tommy. You were both fourteen now, him nearing fifteen, and he seemed to have grown overnight. When you were younger, you had been a few inches taller than him, which came at a real advantage when you played chase (or a fun game called Run As Fast As You Can So Polly Doesn’t Wack Us With Her Wooden Spoon) but now, even with you atop the horse, you could see how much taller he was.

A little while later, he helped you down off Shadow, and he gulped, feeling the softness of your waist beneath your dress. He cleared his throat and together you led the horse back to the stables, stealing glances at one another when the other wasn’t looking.

***

“My dad will fucking kill me,” you said in a hushed voice, barely suppressing your tipsy giggles as you and Tommy sat by the Cut, hiding in the shadows of Charlie’s yard.

“He’s more likely to kill me,” Tommy grinned, taking a swig from the bottle before passing it to you. “Sixteen years old and here you are, out past midnight, getting you shitfaced, smoking. I really have led you astray,”

You grinned, gulping from the bottle and sloshing it down your front. Tommy shook his head fondly. “You’re such a fuckin’ lightweight, YN,” he said, and you laughed loudly. “Shhh shut the fuck up,” tommy said, his own laugh betraying him as he pressed his hand ovef your mouth. You stared at eachother for a moment as he slowly moved his hand and you leaned in close, pressing your lips against his.

“Oi! Who’s there?”

“Shit, Charlie’s coming, c’mon! Grab the fuckin’ whiskey, YN, for Christ’s sake!”

Tommy grabbed your hand and pulled you up and you ran off, laughing into the night.

***

He was different when he came back from France. They all were.

Tommy wouldn’t let go of you when he stepped off the train, his tears soaking into the shoulder of your coat. It was only when you promised you’d stay with him at the little house in Watery Lane that he pulled away, and you walked arm in arm together.

He proposed that night, and it was the first time you and the Shelby’s (save for Finn, who didn’t quite understand why his brothers were so sad all of a sudden) properly smiled in years.

***

The arrival of Grace Burgess to Small Heath caused quite the stir, but you and Polly saw right through her. She expected her singing to entrap tommy into spilling the Peaky secrets, but when you cornered her before opening time, she soon backed off. Whether it was the butterfly knife you rammed into the bar, the ice cold look you fixed her with, or your silver tongue, she knew it was more than her life’s worth to cross Polly Gray and YN Shelby.

You and Polly made a point of ordering Scotch whiskey whenever Grace was around- much to the brother’s amusement.

***

You were furious with Tommy for facing off with Billy Kimber, and even more so when Sabini got involved.

That didn’t stop you doting on him, making sure his bullet wound from Kimber was cleaned daily.

And Tommy definitely milked it, even after it began to scar.

“Ay, where’s my kiss to make it better, Mrs Shelby?” He’d ask with a cheeky glint in his eye that was only ever seen by you.

“You’re pushing your fucking luck, you,” you’d say.

But of course, you’d press a gentle kiss over the bandage, and another to his lips.

***

When Polly grasped onto your breast after a family meeting, all hell broke loose. Ada, with little Karl on her lap gave you a knowing look, while Arthur and John cheered loudly (“about time, Tom!”). Finn was confused as to why you were recieving an impromptu breast exam at the table, and Tommy... just stared at you with wide eyes.

“Am I...?”

“Is she...?” You said at the same time and Polly just nodded, returning to her seat and giving you both a smile.

You and Tommy left early, with John and Arthur shouting after you both to be careful, ready to wet the baby’s head even though it was barely more than a tiny speck at that moment in time.

***

“Thomas Michael Shelby I am never sleeping with you again you utter bastard! Ah!”

Tommy paced in the landing, your pained screams driving him mad. He had tried sitting at the table and smoking with brothers as you laboured, but he couldn’t bare to be so far away from you. Polly, Esme and Ada were keeping him busy, sending him for more hot water every now and then.

When the piercing sound of a baby crying filled the house, he slumped against the wall with relief as everyone downstairs cheered.

Polly peaked her head around the door, smiling warmly. “In you come then. Come and meet your little boy,”

Tommy felt his eyes well up as he stepped over the threshold to the rest of his life, smiling down at you as you looked up, looking utterly worn out, but with a smile bright enough to power the whole country, a tiny bundle in your arms.

Tommy say carefully on the edge of the bed, leaning a little closer.

“Come here, you silly git,” you said gently, letting him shuffle closer. He peaked over the blanket and felt his heart melt as he stared at the tiny, sleeping baby with a shock of dark hair.

“Our little boy, Tom,” you said gently.

“Yeah,” he said, staring at you both in awe. “Our little boy. My little family,”

Tags: @liliputbahn @lilymurphy03 @imareallygrumpyme @acciosiriusblack

DM me to be on my tag list (with what fandoms you wanna be tagged in, as well as if you wanna be tagged in smut x)

[gobblinggojo]

Hi! Its me again😄, so sorry to bother you (i had the sudden urge to make a hamilton reference), but im still thirsty for yelena...if you dont mind, can i get some taking care of sick! Yelena? Also dont over-stress yourself and drink lots of water!💖✨

AHHHH- PLEASE, I LOVE YOUR REQUESTS OMG-. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! I’VE WANTED TO DO A SICK! YELENA ONESHOT FOR A WHILE NOW BUT HAVEN”T GOTTEN AROUND TO IT!!

TW: some cursing from yelena!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

8 AM:

“yelena, please!” you whined out as you held the spoon filled with terrible tasting medicine up to her mouth. she only rolled her eyes in response, letting out a terrible cough as she looked away from the spoon, avoiding the terrible medicine being lodged into her mouth. “no, y/n.” she spoke out in a hoarse voice. she sounded awful, she looked awful too! your beautiful girlfriend had dark bags under her eyes, her skin held a sickly yellowish tint to it and her hair was an absolute mess! she had gotten some virus that was going around town the other day, and had been sick since then.

you could only whine at that, frowning sadly as you watched her closely. “but baby! you need to take the medicine the doctor gave you to get better! don’t you want to get better for me?” you pouted as you gazed into her dark gray orbs. after a few moments, yelena let out a loud groan in defeat. sighing, she sat up and gently took the spoon filled with medicine from you, bringing it up to her mouth, she instantly shoved the spoon inside, quickly swallowing and gagging loudly as she pulled the spoon out of her mouth. “oh my god, y/n! that is the worst medicine i’ve ever tasted! what the hell did that damn doctor give me?!” she yelled, gray orbs narrowed towards the bottle of medicine sitting on the night stand. you only sighed as you gazed towards the bottle. “it’s some grape flavored medicine..” you said softly to which she mentally gagged. “grape medicine, is THE WORST fucking creation ever made on earth!” your lovely girlfriend yelled out. you could only giggle at that. man, was it gonna be a long day.

10 AM

two hours had passed since you had given yelena her medicine. she had ended up falling asleep around thirty minutes ago. you were currently at the end of the bed, folding laundry, every now and again you would gaze over towards your girlfriend to make sure she was still asleep and comfortable. letting out a quiet sigh, you gently grabbed a pile of yelena’s folded shirts and went to her dresser, gently putting them inside. as you walked back over towards the bed, yelena sat up and instantly rushed to the bathroom. tilting your head, you walked in after her only to mentally cringe at the sound of her throwing up in the toilet. walking over, you gently kneeled down behind her and hugged her from behind, resting the side of your head against her back as you gently rubbed her sides. “it’s okay yelena, it’s okay..” you whispered softly, gently placing small kisses to her back.

12 PM

you had just gotten yelena laid back down after spending an hour hunched against the toilet, throwing her guts up. you gently tucked her in, rubbing her head gently as you sighed. “is there anything you need, my love?” you asked softly, gazing down at her with a worried look on your face. yelena only coughed in response, frowning as she rubbed at her eyes, which still held tears in them from throwing up. “..can you get me some water?” she asked softly. you frowned sadly at how her poor voice sounded. it was so hoarse, you could hardly hear her speak. you gently nodded your head, leaning down, you pressed a soft kiss to her hot forehead before getting up and going downstairs to your kitchen.

you had grabbed one of yelena’s water bottles she used when she went to the gym, going to the freezer, you gently pressed the cup against the button that released water inside of it. humming a random song, you gently placed the lid back on the water bottle before you went back upstairs to your beautiful girlfriend.

10 PM

all day you would run back and forth to get yelena everything she needed. luckily, by the end of the day her fever had went down a bit. her skin wasn’t as yellow as it was before; and her voice didn’t sound as hoarse as it did this morning. you had just gotten out of the shower, in a pair of your pajamas, you went over and turned the light to yours and yelena’s bedroom off. gently, walking over to your guys’ bed, you crawled right into bed beside yelenas, arms wrapping around her torso, you hugged her bigger form close to your smaller form, letting out a quiet hum as you fell asleep against your sleeping beauty.

[peachoony]

midnight snack

Genre: smut

Warning: unprotected sex, oral (receiving), fingering, kinda public sex?

Pairing: younghoon x reader

Younghoon opened his eyes and turned around just to see that your side of the bed was empty.

Maybe you went to the bathroom?

He looked around the dark room with half opened eyes and rubbed them. He laid back down and suddenly his throat felt so dry, he sat up and looked to his nightstand which was empty.

He stood up and opened the door as quietly as he could and made his way downstairs to the kitchen and opened the fridge for a water bottle.

“What a coincidence seeing you here.”

“Holy shit,” Younghoon cursed and turned around.

You sat on the dining table with an ice cream box in your hand.

“You scared me,” he said quietly, not to wake his members as he walked to you.

“Don’t be a pussy,” you laughed at him and stuffed a spoonful of caramel ice cream in your mouth.

He raised an eyebrow but decided to ignore your words.

“What are you even doing here at this time?” he asked and crossed his arms.

Your eyes trailed down to his naked chest and gulped down the cold ice cream. Younghoon always slept without a shirt and you not being able to take off your eyes from his torso wasn’t new. His hair looked fluffy and lips puffy. Maybe the ice cream wasn’t the only thing you wanted to devour.

You flinched when Younghoon called your name and looked back up.

“Huh?”

“What are you thinking about?” He asked you with a smirk as he took a step closer.

“Nothing,” you said and licked the spoon clean, making sure to not miss a spot.

He raised an eyebrow as his eyes scanned your tongue doing it’s magic. You placed the spoon back into the box before wiping the white cream off your lips and stuffing it back into your mouth as you released your finger with a pop sound.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, now mocking his question from earlier.

“How those should’ve been my fingers,” he said, lifting his gaze from your fingers.

“Hmm, too bad they aren’t,” you shrugged, dangling your legs off the table when he suddenly grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him, so you sat on the edge of the table. His lips hovered dangerously close over yours.

“Drop that attitude, will you? Or else I have to fuck it out of you,” he whisperd and you licked your lips knowing how crazy you made him with just one gesture.

“I prefer the second option,” you replied with a smirk and his lips pressed against yours with a pressure which made you lean back, but his arms wrapped around your waist pulling closer to him.

His lips devoured yours in such a blissful way almost making you moan, just with a kiss, as he pressed you even closer to him and you felt his hard one against your inner thigh. You gasped and his tongue slipped into your mouth instantly as his other hand wandered in between your legs, gazing over your already soaked panties.

“Such a mess and I haven’t even done anything,” he chuckled while you just whimpered, as he pressed his thumb against your clothed clit.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip and just with one swift move they were down to your ankles. His finger collected your juices rubbing circles on your most sensitive part.

”Baby you’re so ready, I could just fuck you,” he whispered against your lips.

His finger entered your heat and you felt the coldness of his long fingers. You moaned out his name and grabbed his arm as his fingers started thrusting into you, curling them.

His mouth met your neck as he started leaving red marks on your most sensitive spots when your head fell back.

“Holy fuck,” you moaned out when you felt his tongue instead of his fingers as he sucked harshly on your clit, making you moan his name, forgetting about the others.

“Baby we don't wanna wake the others up, do we?"

He mumbled before diving back in as he reminded you that you guys weren't alone.

You hummed blissfully as his tongue continued lapping at your juices. You started breathing heavily as you felt your high approach with every swift move his tongue made against your core.

"S-stop,” you whined.

“I want to cum with your dick,” you added, hoping he would stop before your orgasm hit you and his mouth left your dripping core.

“Thirsty for my cock, huh?” He asked cockily and wiped his chin with the back of his hand, which was dripping from your juices.

You grabbed his neck and pulled him into a heated kiss, tasting yourself. He grabbed your thigh and pulled you closer to him as you felt his tip on your entrance.

“Baby please,” you whined while he teased you with his red tip, sliding it over your folds.

“Hmm, please what, use your words y/n,” he demanded.

“Please fuck me, I can't wait any longer.”

Younghoon would've teased you longer but he was filled with so much lust that he needed his own relief more than anything else right now.

He pushed himself into your pussy with a low growl.

“Shit baby, you're so fucking thight,” he breathed out and started moving his hips as your nails started digging into his naked shoulders with a satisfied hum.

His lips captured your lips into a kiss, devouring your moans.

Of course you didn't want the guys to wake up but the way his dick was fucking you so right, hitting all the spots that would’ve made you scream if you were alone, made you forget you weren’t alone.

He grunted into your mouth and pulled you closer while he thrusted harder into you with your juices coating his dick.

His arm was around your waist to hold you as close as possible and the other was holding onto the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

The table moved with the harsh and sharp thrust of his hips against yours.

“You take my cock so well,” he growled and started thrusting harder into you as his hand reached in between your legs, making you throw your head back.

“Look at me,” he demanded and you opened your eyes. “I want you to look at me, while I ruin you that pussy.”

You whimpered at his words, while they affected you more than you would’ve thought.

“I’m close,” you managed to get out.

“That’s right cum for me baby, cum all over my cock,” he whispered and you felt his load painting your walls and your high washed over you, throwing you into a state of euphoria as your legs started shaking.

He pulled out and gave you a softer kiss on your swollen lips.

“We should do that more often,” you said while trying to get your breath under control.

“Yeah, we should fuck often on the table,” Younghoon said.

Your eyes noticed a figure at the staircase, which made Younghoon turn around.

Changmin stood there with his bed hair and a boner, which was hard to ignore.

Younghoon smirked and looked back at you.

“See, we got him hard and you weren’t even naked yet.”