#who needs recovery time after an office job

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 9 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: phew! this took me five million years and a bag of candy to write. remember when I told you to remember the house layout? 😉 Enjoy!

small mention: I absolutely love knowing you all are curious about the next chapter of this series. I appreciate and love all comments I get, and try to keep all my promises I make. but, trust I’m human too and need some away from writing. Though, when rude and harassing words are used in my inbox- the joy of writing this series gets absolutely sucked away. (If I’ve answered your message, this isn’t about your comment 🫶) so, please keep your rude words to yourself or I’ll turn off anonymous inbox messages and block you the next time :)

W/C: 4.016

part eight

"I should've just taken a break to go on vacation."

Lina sighs, poking her salad with her fork, and guiding the mixture of greens and dressing up to her mouth.

"Didn't you take a trip to Paris last international break?"

Luis says, raising a brow at her words. He turns his head towards me, nudging me under the table.

"Can you believe her?" He asks, an exasperated chuckle leaving his lips. It causes me to jolt out of my half-asleep state, my eyes widening in surprise.

"What? Who?" I ask looking around and bring a hand up to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

I had rushed out of the house this morning, which meant everyone got the chance to admire my bare skin today.

Well, my stress-induced breakouts were on full display, but having some pimples wasn’t the end of the damn world anyway.

"Are you okay?" Lina joins in, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, just dozed off- been sleeping horribly." I reply, eyeing my lunch with a grimace.

"Are those exams still keeping you up?"

"More like waking me up.. Do you know how many nightmares of failing an exam a person can take?” I say, my words coming out harsher and louder than I intended. My eye twitches in irritation, and I give them a crazy look.

"Woah, you have an attitude today.." Luis mutters, shifting away from me.

"Don’t piss her off.." I hear Lina say, nudging Luis.

"Never mind, I'm going back to work." I state, quickly putting my tray of food away and walking out of the cafeteria.

I mutter curses under my breath, trying to look as normal as possible to my coworkers when I pass them in the hallways.

Exam season was practically sucking the life out of me, and the added pressure of the upcoming Champions League home game against Napoli was multiplying the stress.

Thankfully, it was international break, which meant that my normal workload was cut in half. Some players not playing for in the national team had requested leave for vacation, so the training center was pretty quiet and empty today.

I only knew of injured players being here for their scheduled recovery appointments.

I finally get back in my office, sighing in exhaustion when I get to my desk. I plop down, rubbing my face to wake myself up further, before starting to work on some more content.

"Why are you grinning like a creep?"

I turn to Luis, chuckling at his choice of words, and let go of the computer mouse.

"I just got a notification that said I passed my written exam." I beam, giving him a cocky look.

"Really?"

"Yeah, ninety-four percent..” I say, turning my head to look at the editing program. The training video we had just shot halfway edited already.

"You've been snapping at us for no reason, but I guess it was worth it- good job.." He says, shooting me a smile, and leaning in to give me a side hug.

"Yeah, sorry about that.." I apologize, fixing my wrinkled shirt. I move my hand towards the mouse again, cutting off a piece of blurry footage that we couldn’t use.

"It's fine, I guess it's payback for making you do random tasks back when you were a newbie.."

"You know, I haven't forgotten how you made me carry that heavy ass bag every morning..”

"I'm sorry, alright. You should've told me earlier that Ancelotti is basically your uncle."

I grumble at his words, jabbing his ribcage with my elbow, sending him a warning look.

"Stop talking and help me out with this.." I mutter, passing him the mouse.

He winces a little, rubbing his stomach, before snatching the mouse off of me with an attitude.

"Didn't know you were allowed to use your privilege to inflict such violence."

I roll my eyes, focused on the moving images on the computer screen. Starting to unconsciously pick at a fresh scab on my hand. Only noticing the damage I’ve done when I look down to see blood trickling down the back of my hand.

"Shit, made myself bleed.." I say, making Luis glance away from the dual monitors.

"Go to the physiotherapy room. They have a shit ton of bandages and bandaids.” He suggests, his hand going up to fix the curls falling in front of his eyes.

I nod quickly, getting up from my seat and walking out of the small, soundproof meeting room. I close the glass door behind me, hurrying over to the physiotherapy room.

I pass the glass panels facing the multiple pitches outside, the sun had been shining brightly this afternoon. Even though the sun had been setting quite early due to daylight saving time.

I knock twice when I arrive, only opening the door when I hear a loud 'come in' in response.

I clear my throat, realizing how silly it is to get a bandaid for a wound like this, but still walk in.

I'm greeted by the sight of first-team physiotherapist Iván, he smiles when he notices me, waving for me to come inside.

He was one of the nicest people working with me at Real Madrid. It would be especially fun when he would bring in his little two-year-old son with him. I couldn’t count on one hand how many times I had carried the cute boy around the training center in my free time.

"Oh, y/n. What brings you here?" He questions, shoving the white privacy curtain out of the way, only to reveal a shirtless Jude lying on the treatment table, his eyes opening to peer over at me.

The personalized shoulder brace he'd been wearing for the past couple matches, was taken off for obvious reasons, and placed on the other side of the bed.

I look away a moment later, feeling my chest tighten, internally wincing at the thought of Jude having a dislocated shoulder and still playing football. Despite all of the aggressive and offensive play we had gotten used to this season, he was handling it well- but I wouldn’t ever utter it out loud.

Because- who wants to inflate that ego even more? Or was that even possible?

"Hi, Iván.. Just wondering if you got a bandaid for me?" I avert my gaze to the physio, and raise my brows. I hold my hand up to show the wound, and smile when he nods in response.

"Yeah, just a second.." He shoots Jude a quick wink, washing his hands before coming over. He begins to rummage through the cabinet, flipping through a pack of bandaids before handing me one closest to my skin color.

"Here you go.. Do you need anything else?" He asks, eyeing the blood on my hand.

"Nope, only this. Thank you.." I smile, quickly wiping down the blood from my hand and gently placing the bandaid on my wound.

I throw the bloody wipes and wrappers in the dedicated trash can, turning around again when I’m done.

I make accidental and involuntary eye contact with Jude instead of Iván, who's already across the room busy with some paperwork. Probably documenting the progress of Jude’s injury.

My eyes automatically dart down to his shoulder, and unbelievably, my eyes slip to his chest, then to his-

I stiffen when I regain consciousness of what I’m doing, and look away with haste. I fight the urge to smack myself in the face, instead biting the flesh of my cheek when I notice him smirk at me.

"What are you looking at?" He questions, voice low and his cocky tone too obvious to ignore.

My eyes widen slightly when he speaks, and I take a step forward as if to say I’m not intimidated.

"Just- looking at your shoulder.." I say, cringing at the way the words leave my mouth.

"So, you’re worried about me now?"

I give him a look of disgust, a chuckle of disbelief leaving my mouth.

"You wish, Bellingham. I heard Ancelotti is confident in putting you in the starting lineup on Wednesday. You better put your best foot forward, and if we don’t end up winning..." I trail off, threatening him slightly with my tone. I then turn around and leave the room.

I couldn’t lie, being rude to him after he'd dislocated his shoulder and still played made me feel a little guilty.

Though, he had a huge gift of being the ultimate douchebag, even when he’d been having his 'decent' moments lately.

“He’s only turned nineteen two- no three months ago, and he’s already scoring in the Champions League..” Luis gawks, grabbing the equipment bag out of my hand.

“I know, it’s so fun to see young players flourish..” I mutter, mentally recalling the interview I just did with Nico Paz. Since it was his first goal for Real Madrid, we had just done an interview in celebration.

“He is a year younger than you.. Is he really that young to you?” Luis teases, pushing me away when I pretend to kick him.

“What? Are you trying to undermine my accomplishments?” I question, trying to kick him again.

“Hey! See, this is how immature you are.. Step back, dude get off…” He says, and I scuffle with him for a moment, gasping when he tries to put me in a headlock.

“Okay, you always do this- stop everyone is looking..” I mutter, squeezing his arm.

“How fuckin’ childish are you?” I hear a familiar voice say. I snap my head up, Luis’ arm loosening as he immediately lets me go.

“As much as I want to be...” I state, my hand traveling up to fix my hair and clothes.

I hear Jude scoff, he gives me a nasty look before taking a step forward, but I notice him freeze in my peripheral vision when he hears someone calling out to me.

“y/n?!” The person shouts, and I look around for a moment before my eyes land on…

The guys from Naples?

What’s his name again?

“Chris?..” I say, my voice low and as enthusiastic as I can manage to pretend.

Fuck, I never even answered his DM’s..

Well, should I really give a guy who looks like trouble a chance?

My common sense says: NO.

I watch him bring an arm around my back, his hand resting on my shoulder blade when he hugs me tightly. Like we’ve been friends for freaking years…

“How have you been? Thought I’d see you here..” He beams, his hand going up to fix the fluffy mop of blonde hair on his head. Aussie accent undeniably mesmerizing like last time.

He is so pretty, but the kind of pretty that told me he was a full on man-wh*re..

“Hi? Good, what are you doing here?” I ask, trying to stop the grimace forming on my face. I lean in, taking a closer look at the badge hanging from his neck.

Surprisingly enough, it says ‘VIP’- I look up at him with a questioning look, waiting for him to explain.

“Oh- this.. someone I know gifted me this pass..”

Yeah, very believable.

He smiles nonchalantly, the skin of his cheeks denting as his dimples show.

I nod as if I understand, glancing at Luis, so he can get me out of this conversation.

“You’re the drunk guy from that night!” Chris suddenly exclaims, pointing at Luis.

Could this get even more awkward.

I tune out the stupid conversation they have, shuffling backwards only to bump into Jude.

Thankfully, not against his injured shoulder.

“Oh, sorry..” I whisper, not even registering his response before he’s rudely interrupted.

“Man- no way you’re the Jude Bellingham..”

I close my eyes in embarrassment, turning around to face Jude instead of both Luis and Chris.

I raise my brows at Jude, giving him a look only readable as ‘send this man away’..

He immediately plasters an all too good, fake smile on his face. Stepping behind me to greet Chris, and begins talking to him about the match.

I can only hear a jumble of both Brum and Aussie accents, it making me want to burst into a fit of laughter. Though, I manage to keep it in, looking at Luis to see if he’s still present in the conversation.

He isn’t, as expected. No surprise, he’s fidgeting with his damn camera again.

I stand there like a statue for the next two minutes, looking back and forth between the two accented men.

It’s a comical sight, especially when I can’t even understand some words.

I sigh in relief when Jude pats Chris’ shoulder, careful with his injury when he goes in for a handshake.

I watch Jude leave swiftly, his facial expression falters immediately, and his hand goes up to rip the shoulder brace off his body, harsher than I’ve ever seen him do before.

"My brain is going to explode, fucks sake.."

I mumble, stretching my arms and legs. I get up from the dinner table in order to walk around the backyard for a moment. Trying to get some fresh air, even though it's past midnight already.

I loved studying at the dinning table way more than upstairs in my room. It felt less lonely- especially since my dad had been gone for a couple weeks now. His work and the case had taken an interesting turn, which meant that his stay had to be prolonged.

I didn't mind, in fact, I loved living alone. Except for when I heard random noises at night. It could've been a bird flying against the window, and I’d still be paranoid.

Since it was our day off, after winning 4-2 against Napoli yesterday- I thought I'd go ahead and continue cramming for my last exam I had in a couple days.

I yawn and stretch my limbs, looking up at the clear sky and stars. It had gotten so much colder since December was almost here.

My pajama shorts are not providing warmth, but I can’t be bothered to go up and change when I’m going back inside in a minute anyway.

I can hear my back cracking when I turn to stretch, making me chuckle. I was only twenty, but those hard ass chairs and sitting in them for long periods of time, made me feel like I was double my age sometimes.

I'm brought out of my thoughts when I hear my phone ring loudly from the dinning table. I jog back inside quickly, throwing my slippers off my feet and snatch my phone. Confusion settling on my face when I read the caller ID.

I immediately pick up, pressing the phone against my ear. Worrying about something horrible happening in the middle of the night.

"Dad? It's late, something wrong?" I say in one breath, left hand clutching the backrest of my chair.

"y/n, nothings wrong. I just need you to listen carefully..”

"Okay." I spit out, just wanting him to get to the point, my brain making up all types of things.

"It's concerning one of my clients. Something unexpected just happened, and he's going to have to stay over at ours for a while."

I pause at his words, frowning in confusion, even though he can’t see my face.

"What? So, you're calling me- because I need to let an unfamiliar guy into our house- so he can sleep here? Is it a criminal?”

I gasp, hand gripping my phone tighter.

“A murderer?! Dad! How can you-”

"-y/n.." He cuts me off, voice stern, but I’m able to hear the grogginess of his tone. He'd probably been sleeping before he was awakened.

"It's no stranger- it's Jude, okay? He's not safe in his own home- relating the case I took on. I offered for him to stay over out of concern for his safety. So, he's going to have to stay with- you for a while."

I stay quiet, taking in all of the information he's giving me. I can already feel a migraine creeping up on me, letting go of my chair to massage my temple with one hand.

"I have to get the guest room- ready?" I say, processing everything and trying to understand what I’m supposed to do.

"Yes, I know you two are- friendly. Please be understanding and responsible. I'll call you in the morning, just get him settled and go to bed. You got that, honey?"

"Yeah, I got it. Uh- I'll get the room ready.." I say, already walking up the stairs and into the guest bedroom.

"Good, again- I'll call you in the morning- good night, sweetie.."

I quickly hang up after saying goodbye, running around, and making the bedroom look presentable. I change the bedsheets and wipe the dust off the vanity with a swift motion. It takes me about ten minutes and a sweaty forehead, before the doorbell rings repeatedly.

I run down the stairs, almost tripping due to my haste.

I take a deep breath when I reach the front door, trying to collect my thoughts and feelings before swinging the door open.

Jude's house was unsafe to stay in, so he's staying here- right..

The front door squeaks when I open it. An exhausted-looking Jude entering my sight, his black suitcase is on the floor, to his right- looking like it’s about to burst at its seams.

Cold air greets my face and naked legs almost instantly, making me curse internally for not changing clothes earlier.

I was too stubborn for my own good..

"Hi- umh, come in?" I say, my voice hoarse as if I hadn't spoken out loud in weeks.

He nods awkwardly, mumbling something incoherent as he begins rolling his suitcase inside.

I motion for him to take his shoes off, which he promptly does without hesitation. I turn away, grabbing some house slippers for him to wear out of the shoe rack.

I throw them next to his feet, watching his eyes flicker up and down as he steps back for a moment.

"You alright?" I ask, worried about the lack of words he's using.

It was unlike him, whether we’re arguing about some stupid shit or I’m filming an interview- he always had something to say.

"Yeah, I'm fine.." He mutters, looking up and finally making eye contact with me.

"The bedroom is upstairs.." I trail off, reaching over to grab his suitcase, but he snatches the heavy luggage up with one hand, immediately making his way up the stairs.

I watch the muscles in his arm flex as I walk behind him. I stop dead in my tracks when I realize what I’m doing and practically start running up the stairs to catch up to him.

I walk ahead of him when we reach the top of the stairs, opening the guest bedroom door for him.

"This is your room, bathroom is there, and the laundry room is over there." I point, turning around to face him.

"Thanks.." His Brum accent is thick, and he looks at me like a lost man in crisis.

I clear my throat, unable to pick between being nice and acting like how we normally interacted.

"Are- do you want to go shower?" I mutter, raising my brows.

I only realize how wrong my sentence sounds the second it leaves my mouth. To cover my embarrassment, I clear my throat again, putting my hands behind my back.

"Yeah- I should.." He responds, and I step aside to let him in the bedroom.

"I'll be downstairs.."

I inform, running down the stairs the second he shuts the door behind him.

I rub my eyes aggressively when I walk into the living room area. Sitting on the couch, I wonder if this is some delusional fever dream.

Maybe it’s just a different genre of dreams, next to those nightmares I had about failing exams.

I mean- who can make this up?

I get up to my feet again, walk up to the fridge, and begin filling up a huge glass with water. I bring the cup up to my lips, and slowly sip on the cool liquid, hoping it will help me feel grounded again.

I exhale deeply when I'm halfway through the cup. Going for my last gulp of water again, I fill my mouth with the rest of the water. My cheeks almost exploding from the amount of water in my mouth.

Suddenly, I'm absolutely- fucking-scared shitless as I'm poked in between my shoulder blades. I turn around in a shift motion, accidentally spraying out the water in my mouth- onto a shirtless Jude's chest.

My eyes almost bug out of my head in shock. My jaw slacks open when I observe the aftermath.

He can only look at me with a blank face. I can’t detect any emotion in his face, but he’s probably equally as mortified as me.

"Shit- sorry.." I blurt, turning around, and grabbing a kitchen towel. I scramble for a second, and start to vigorously..wipe.. his..chest..

I only realize I'm rubbing on his chest like I’m giving him a damn massage- mid-wipe and freeze.

My body goes rigid and my hands are resting on his now dry, naked chest.

I look up at him, only seeing part of his face with help from the dim lights in the kitchen. My breathing slows down, and he looks down at me in return.

I can feel my heart pounding in my ribcage, and I'm sure anyone within meters of me could hear.

His skin is soft and warm underneath my fingertips-

"I- was going to ask how the shower works.." Jude whispers, his warm breath hitting my face. I can make out his brown eyes peering into mine, a series of unspoken and caged words behind them.

His words make me stop breathing for a moment. I remove my hands off of him at lightning speed, the kitchen towel falling to the floor mindlessly and I step back immediately.

"Oh- yeah, sure. Follow me.." I scramble a couple words together, my brain working overtime. I walk up the stairs again. Leading him into the bathroom, noticing he had left the lights on, his discarded shirt on the bathroom counter.

"Here- left is hot, right is cold. This is the best temperature.." I instruct, pointing when necessary and don’t dare to look up at him as he stands behind me.

"This button is for the radio and this one for the ventilation.." I say, pressing some buttons to show him how they work.

"Okay.." He breaths out, his warm breaths hitting the back of my neck. I can practically feel his eyes drilling into the back of my head.

I finally turn to look at him, dragging my gaze up to make awkward eye contact with him.

"Anything else?" I ask, voice low and I begin fidgeting with the hem of my shorts.

"Not really..” He replies, sentence dragged out by his accent.

"Umh- okay.. laundry hamper is there. I'll be in my room.." I trail off, pointing my thumb behind me, and walk out of the bathroom without saying anything else.

I quickly clean up the mess I - no, he caused in the kitchen. I wipe everything down properly and grab my laptop and stationary off the dining table.

I carefully lock the front door and windows on the first floor, setting up the alarm and going back upstairs.

I can hear some noise coming from the bathroom. I begin averting my gaze, just in case Jude walks out of the bathroom half-naked again.

I finally get into my bedroom, jumping into my bed. I try to distract myself with my phone until he's done with showering. So I can finally wash my face and brush my teeth after a long day of studying.

Only, this time- my phone doesn’t seem to be all too interesting. Not even those brainrotting and attention grabbing TikTok’s.

Nothing, and I mean nothing- could distract me from anything that had happened within the past thirty minutes..

[justabigassnerd]

Summer of Love pt. 1

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader

Word count - 2,367

Warnings - none

Summary - while in the final stages of recovery after a mission gone wrong, Bradley signs himself up to work at a summer camp just for something to do since Maverick has barred him from Navy work for the time being. meanwhile, you're in between jobs and figure working at a summer camp is some good experience. you meet Bradley and experience a romance you could've never expected (along with some very nosy kids)

Summer of Love masterlist

A/N - here it is y'all! the very first part of 'Summer of Love' I am so excited to be posting this I'm honestly so impressed with myself for writing it as quick as I did and I hope this lives up to expectations. I will say I am open to suggestions on things people may like to see within the series so if you have ideas do feel free to suggest them in my inbox :). anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

After hours upon hours of driving, you finally pulled into the summer camp that was to be your home and workplace for the next couple of months. You parked your car and stepped out of the driver’s seat raising your arms and stretching, sighing as you take in the sights of the camp, amazed at all the beauty that surrounded you.

After stretching and bringing some relief to your tense body, you head in the direction of the buildings you saw, trying to locate the office and soon figuring it out by process of elimination. You approach the building, seeing someone standing just outside who is watching the various soon-to-be counsellors walking around and interacting with each other and they soon notice you approaching them.

“Hello! I’m Kerry!” The woman greets you enthusiastically and you immediately recognise her to be the Camp Director.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” You say, holding your hand out to shake hers before she consults her clipboard, eyes scanning the list for your name.

“Ah, there you are. You’ll be in cabin six. We put the counsellors in cabins together for orientation so you guys can get to know each other and near the end of orientation, we give you guys your cabins for the summer.” Kerry explains, gesturing for you to follow her as she leads you towards some wooden carts you could use to put your belongings in to carry them to the cabin easier and she waits patiently for you to unload your stuff into the cart before having you follow her to the cabin you’d be staying in for the duration of orientation. The cabin wasn’t huge, but it didn’t need to be. It sat just along the lake as all the cabins did.

When you enter the cabin, it is empty but there is evidence of other people. Neatly made beds, people’s stuff upon bedside tables and shelves.

“Thank you, Kerry.” You thanked her as you explored the cabin. Kerry bids you goodbye and tells you when meal times are and lets you know that you’re free to explore the camp and get your bearings before leaving you to your own devices. You picked an empty bed and began moving your stuff from the cart outside to the cabin and began unpacking slightly, making your bed and tucking your suitcase under the bed to clear space. You hadn’t packed too much, just following the very basics of the packing list you were sent so thankfully your bag wasn’t too big or heavy.

When you finished unpacking and tidying your stuff away, you decided to leave the cabin and explore the camp a little. Instead of backtracking the way you came when Kerry showed you to your cabin, you went the opposite direction, following the row of cabins until you reached a spot overlooking the lake and you took a moment to take in the sights. The camp was surrounded by woodland as well as the lake and the trees extended all along the lakeside, but you could see small wooden buildings directly opposite you on the lake which was a clear indicator that this camp wasn’t the only camp on the lake. After appreciating the beauty before you, you continue to walk the line of cabins, unsurprised to see that they’re mostly the same size with a small handful being a little smaller for fewer kids. You pass various other members of staff who offer you a smile and a wave which you return. You then soon end up back at the main area of the camp where the dining hall and office are located.

“Hey, I saw you standing here so I figured I’d come over and say hi. I’m Ella.” A woman approaches you with a smile. She looked to be a little younger than you but regardless you smiled and introduced yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ella. I’m y/n. I’m just getting my bearings. It’s pretty spacious.” You reply, watching as she nods before glancing around the space around you.

“It takes a bit of getting used to. This is my second summer here so I’m more than happy to show you around if you’d like.” Ella offers, looking back at you with a friendly smile.

“If it’s not too much trouble I’d love it if you could show me around.” You say gratefully, following Ella as she gestures for you to follow her. She first leads you to the dining hall, taking you to the top of the stairs and showing you the large room filled with tables.

“This is the dining hall. It will be much more chill with just staff because when the kids arrive it can get noisy, not to mention all the songs at dinner.” Ella explains with a laugh, thinking back to her last year at camp.

“Got it. Make sure I prepare for all the songs.” You reply, chuckling slightly at the image of the dining hall filled with kids singing. You then follow Ella back down the stairs and stick by her side as she gives you a full tour of the camp, even explaining how certain things work around camp as well as giving little anecdotes of her own past experiences. You even find out that she’s staying in the same cabin as you during orientation which makes you relax upon the thought that you now know at least one person in the cabin. When Ella concludes the unofficial tour, you notice a group of male counsellors emerging from the staff lounge all talking over each other as they head towards the dining room just as you hear Ella mentioning that it is almost dinner time. You and Ella make your way to the dining room and join the queue for food, standing behind one of the men who had walked past you just moments prior and he soon turned around to face you and you never could’ve prepared yourself for how attractive this man was.

He was tall, had sandy blond hair and had brown eyes that looked perfect when the sun hit them. He was muscular and sporting a moustache which you thought suited him. When he locked eyes with you, he smiled softly and decided to strike up a conversation.

“Hey, you must’ve just arrived today. I’m Bradley.” He introduced himself, his smile never fading nor his eyes leaving yours even as he reached for a paper plate to serve up his meal.

“Yeah, I’ve not been here very long. I’m y/n.” You reply with a smile, grabbing a plate of your own and dishing yourself up some food.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” You couldn’t lie at that moment. Bradley saying your name felt so right. Your name rolled off his tongue effortlessly and you tried to fight back your emotions because you did not want to be catching feelings this early on, if at all. You soon both reached the end of the food line and headed over to a free table. Some of the guys Bradley was with and Ella sat at your table as well and the eight of you spent the meal getting to know each other a little more.

“So, y/n, what kind of activities are you going to be running at camp?” One of the guys named Cameron asks after taking a sip of his water.

“Just general field sports, mostly hockey, but I am signed up to lead the occasional hikes the kids can do. What about you guys?” You say, listening intently to all the replies you receive. Most of the guys were going to be lifeguards, Ella was teaching sewing and crafts and Bradley had just remained silent.

“What about you, Bradley?” Ella asks with a smile, curious about his job within the camp.

“Same as y/n actually. Except I’ll be mostly teaching soccer. But I am doing the hiking thing as well.” Bradley admits with a sheepish smile, a tone and demeanour you didn’t expect from him.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re starting to get to know each other already then.” You reply with a smile looking over at Bradley as he relaxes a little, smiling back at you.

The rest of the meal flies by and you soon exit the hall with Bradley, Ella, and the others and you all decide to throw around a tennis ball one of the guys who would be teaching tennis had. You tossed the ball between each other, chatting and attempting to distract each other as you all laughed. Soon enough, the sun began to set and many people began to retreat into the staff lounge to spend the rest of the evening with the rest of the staff and to watch a movie together. However, you chose to remain outside, sat on the porch, gently rocking on one of the rocking chairs that sat on the porch and watched the beautiful golden glow illuminate the camp as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

“Didn’t want to come in?” You turn around to see Bradley poking his head out of the door, having noticed your lack of presence in the staff lounge.

“I don’t really get to see sunsets like this. I wanted to appreciate each one while I get the chance.” You admit as Bradley crosses the porch, easing himself down into the other chair and focusing his attention back on you.

“You should see the sunsets where I live.” Bradley mumbles softly, thinking of the sunsets he had grown accustomed to back in Miramar.

“I take it they’re pretty.” You say in response, your eyes still fixed on the horizon and the fading of the sun.

“They’re gorgeous” Bradley says, watching the corners of your mouth twitch up into a smile before you turn to look at him. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until you spoke up again.

“I must admit I’m very jealous that you get sunsets as pretty as this. You never really got to see the sunsets where I used to live. I can only hope when I move and start my new job I’ll have some places to watch the sunset.” You say, trying your best not to let your sadness and anxieties sneak into your voice. You had lived in the same place almost your whole life and recently realised you weren’t doing what you wanted to be doing so uprooting what you knew and moving someplace entirely new was scary. Not to mention working in a summer camp in the middle of it all.

“What’s your new job? If you don’t mind me asking.” Bradley enquires, eyes watching you with nothing but curiosity.

“Teaching. I always wanted to be a teacher and I finally got the chance, even if it does mean I’ve got to handle a big move. What about you? What do you do?” You admit with a chuckle before asking Bradley what he does for a living.

“I’m a naval aviator. I got a good chunk of time off so figured I’d do something worthwhile with my time.” Bradley says, trying not to sound boastful about his job but still wanting to display his pride in his career. He knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth about why he was granted so much time off but he couldn’t do that to you. You seemed so sweet and he didn’t want to dump any of his trauma on you. Before another word could be spoken, you hear the door swing open once more and this time Ella appears.

“Hey, I was going to head back to the cabin to get ready for bed. Wanna come with?” She asks as you nod, standing up and just then realising how tired you were from travelling.

“I could do with an early night. I’ll see you around Bradley.” You say, at first to Ella before directing your goodbye to Bradley, sending him a soft wave and smile as you follow Ella and Bradley watches as you disappear into the darkness that now covers the camp and soon Cameron and the rest of Bradley’s cabin mates emerge from the staff lounge.

“You’ve been out here then?” John asks, having wondered where Bradley was.

“I bet he was out here with y/n. He’s been smitten since he first saw her.” Freddy then says as Bradley rolls his eyes and gets up from his seat, heading back towards his cabin with his cabin mates on his tail.

“Yes, I was out here with y/n. No, I am not smitten.” Bradley says as the boys catch up to him. He was lying of course. Bradley hadn’t been one to believe in love at first sight no matter how much his mother had told him about it growing up. But now he was starting to believe that she might be right.

Meanwhile, you had gotten ready for bed and had clambered into your bed, listening to the sounds of nature just outside your window as Ella got in the bed opposite yours.

“So, how did you enjoy your first day?” Ella asks as the two of you lay back on your beds, staring up at the ceiling.

“It was great. I can’t wait for tomorrow.” You say with a smile despite knowing Ella couldn’t see it.

“It’s good you get on so well with Bradley already. It really helps to get along with the people you are going to spend the most time with.” Ella then says, making you raise an eyebrow at her intentions.

“He’s easy to get along with. He’s a nice guy.” You reply, glancing in the direction of Ella’s bed.

“I bet your crush on him is helping too.” Ella says and you let out a laugh and roll your eyes.

“And on that note, goodnight, Ella.” You say lightly, rolling over and facing the wall as Ella jokingly groans and laughs at your reaction before quieting down and whispering a goodnight of her own. You watch the wall silently, thinking over Ella’s words for a few moments before letting your tired eyes finally drift close.

You couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

taglist (comment or ask to be added):

@noz4a2 @kim-stark

[lianabrooks]

Co-signed.

I had a day off yesterday.

And I can already practically hear the assumptions that such a statement is prompting the reader to make. Those assumptions are wrong. I don't mean I didn't work. I did, for about 8 hours. That's not at all what I mean.

I mean my wife took the kids out at 9:30, spent the night with her mom, isn't back yet the next morning.

There are things I NEED people on this website to understand about parenting. And I've talked about it before, and I'll talk about it again, because honestly the way that Tumblr as a cohort talks about parents makes me sick. Multiple polls have shown that only about 2% of people on here are parents. We're a huge minority, and we're constantly talked over, ignored, or accused of being bad parents (like, personally, I have had people reply to my comments or come on to my posts and tell me I shouldn't have my kids). In my case, being a parent means I'm almost 41, I'm married to @ramblingandpie, and our children are inching up on being 8 and 6 years old.

My entire day, and therefore my entire life, revolves around them. I'm up most mornings at 5 AM, because that's the earliest they're "allowed" to wake up, and so my brain just defaults to being awake around then - better to wake up before them, at least then I get a few minutes in the morning. Between 5 and 7, I sit with them, do my social media, work on side blogs, study Chinese. Then it's helping them get ready for school, then my wife or I or both get them on the bus, and then I work until the last possible minute, which is either when I need to go pick them up for an after school activity or when I need to go down and meet them off the bus. My afternoons are after school activities, chores such as washing the dishes and cleaning up toys, talking with them, working with them, playing with them. Their bedtime starts at 7:40, and my son gets scared if I leave before he falls asleep so I sit with him until about 8:15. As soon as he's asleep, I go fall on my face, sleep as best I can, then wake up and do it again. Overnight, it's hard to sleep deeply, because about once a week someone will wake up in the middle of the night and need help. That could be as minimal as a hug or as complex as having to completely change the bedding on a bunk bed at 2 AM while also comforting a child who is afraid they'll be in trouble, or afraid they're sick, or afraid of their nightmare, or, or, or. Further, if a child is awake, there is always noise. I usually study Chinese with two or more competing sources of noise. I read the same way. My life is loud, and active, and consists of constant interruptions.

I adore my family, and I love my children, but this is terrible for me.

I do all of this as an neurodivergent introvert. My clinical depression is at least medicated, mostly because post-partum depression after I gave birth the first time nearly drove me to suicidal in under a week (we were expecting this and were prepared, fortunately, getting help was as simple as a phone call). The constant noise and interruptions and forced socialibility are about the worst combination of home-life I could be subjected to. I spend far too many early mornings just breathing deeply and gearing myself up to be subjected to the wall of Loud, Boisterous, Needing-My-Attention that is every minute when anyone else in the house is awake.

So what did my day off look like?

I helped get the kids ready to go and did some morning chores. I'd been up at 4:30 AM so I also had already social media'd and studied. Then, while my wife finished the preparations, I started work, and I worked from about 8 am to about 4 pm, straight. I didn't get hungry so didn't bother stopping for lunch. No one interrupted me, no one asked me to look at anything they'd built, no one broke my concentration, no sounds could be heard except those I'd chosen myself.

I'd been out the day before at a local shopping street and listened closely to the things the kids said they wanted, so at 4 I grabbed a couple orders I needed to ship for work and drove to our local downtown, dropped the orders in a post box, then went back to the shops and did some Christmas shopping in the 45 minutes or so before everything closed. I think I'm basically done with what we'll get them - other bigger things will be left to grand parents - so that's a load off, I literally had a stress dream earlier this week about it being 12/24 and having forgotten to do the shopping and having to go to (oh horrors) the mall on the day before Christmas. (Reminder: I'm a Jewish atheist. It's just virtually impossible not to Holiday in the Culturally Christian Hellscape that is the US. Also, my wife is Christian. So.) Found something cute for my wife, too, even tho I already know the main thing I'm getting her. Then, I realized - one of my favorite restaurants is on that block. So. I went there. I sat by myself at a table, only the indistinct restaurant hubbub around me. I read four or five chapters of my book, and ate a savory crepe, and drank lovely fruit tea, and got a scone to-go that I'll eat for lunch today. It was more than I probably should have spent on myself - about $25, including tip - but fuck it. I only get maybe a handful of days off all year, and I'm allowed to indulge a little.

Then I came home. There were no lights on. There was no noise. I had considered doing some more merch work while watching TV on the actual television (my kids are too young for subtitled shows, so usually if I want to watch My Shows I either have to do it on my computer when they're not around, or put them on and read all the subtitles aloud while trying to keep up and process the actual meaning of what I'm reading). But when I got back, the quiet and dark was so goddamn NICE that instead I curled up on the couch and read more of my book. I did that until bedtime - still about 8:15, because I'm exhausted. Then...I went to bed. And I slept long and deep, knowing that there was no chance I'd be interrupted and woken up, I didn't have to be, even in sleep, alert to every noise and possibility that I'd be needed.

I'm still exhausted and burned out, but even one night to myself felt really, really nice.

Saying "Tumblr does X" as a universal statement is doomed to failure, but generally speaking, the parenting posts I see on Tumblr, the ones with tens or hundreds of thousands of notes, speak what's apparently widely seen as a truism on here: that unless someone wants to spend 24/7 with their kids, to be 100% emotionally available at all times, is always kind and patient and perfect, they are a bad parent, maybe even abusive. I remember when covid started, there were multiple posts actively mocking the "oh god, my kids are now home all the time, how am I supposed to do this?" attitude that a lot of parents posted in despair. WhY dId YoU hAvE kIdS iF yOu DoN't WaNt To SpEnD tImE wItH tHeM?

Look at what my usual day looks like.

Look at what my day off looked like.

Do you really think I don't want to spend time with my kids? Do you really think I don't love my kids?

But I'm not a fucking MACHINE. I'm a PERSON. That's what people on Tumblr seem to forget. PARENTS ARE PEOPLE. The same tumblrinas who post ~uwu be kind to yourself rest if you need to, you should forgive yourself for that mistake you made~ will turn around, with zero sense of irony, and post "you're a bad parent if you ever raise your voice around a child."

Expecting parents to be perfect means expecting parents to be inhuman. It also means that a parent can't be poor (can't spend all your time being the perfect parent if you have to work multiple jobs or weird hours!), can't be introverted (can't be a perfect parent if you're not completely emotional available, god forbid socializing is exhausting for you), can't be on the ADHD or autism spectrum (what do you mean you forgot to get your kid to a doctor's appointment once? what do you mean over-stimulation can make you angry? how dare you get angry at a kid!), can't be depressed (gotta get out of bed every single day, gotta always be upbeat, patient, happy, or else that's Evil), can't be (like my wife) physically disabled (what do you mean your hands hurt too much to hold a child's hand? are you denying them touch?? CRUEL). And when the only answer you can offer to that is, "if you can't be that perfect you shouldn't be a parent," then you're saying people who aren't middle class to wealthy, people who aren't neurotypical, people who aren't physically able, shouldn't have children.

And honestly...what the fuck is your problem?

I'm not perfect. I tell my kids to just leave me alone sometimes. I raise my voice, especially when one of my kids starts punching the other, but also sometimes just cause I'm exhausted and Can't Anymore. I've forgotten an appointment by accident and felt like a total fucking idiot, and I've skipped an after school activity because I just wasn't up for taking them. I've served them more unbalanced, unhealthy meals than I can count. I've made many, many mistakes, but I've also done my best, and I love my kids, and I hope that when they grow up, they'll still love me even as they recognize that I wasn't perfect, just as I've come to accept my own parents' short-comings while still loving them very much. They're people, too, and the older I get, the more I understand where they were coming from.

When I fuck up, I apologize.

When they tell me they're unhappy with something I've done, I apologize, and I try to do better. Sometimes I even succeed.

This shit is hard, yo. And it's getting harder every year.

I'm BEGGING Tumblr: you need to start seeing parents as people. The way y'all talk about parenting on here is toxic, and genuinely harmful, and frankly exhausting. You have no idea what the reality of raising kids is like, and you need to shut the entire fuck up.

I had a day off yesterday.

I might get one more before the end of 2023.

I already can't wait. I am so, so, so tired. sigh

(if you actually read this whole rant and even a single word of it resonated for you, please reblog it. I'm tired of never seeing positive posts about parenting while I see negative ones with a bajillion notes.)

[lady-ashfade]

Could you please do poly! Crows x Male reader who’s tall and selective mute?(family trauma) He’s kinda like a mix of Kaz and Inej: doesn’t show emotion and his footsteps are silent. On the rare occasion, the crew will see him turn his head to hide a smile. I imagine they all just got back from an intense heist, reader was near passing out injured, and he mumbles about how much he loves them and he thanks them for dealing with him while tears slowly drip down his bruised face. Whole time Nina and Inej are tending his wounds trying not to cry, Wylan is curled up near him and Jespers is holding his hand while Matthias and Kaz are kinda just standing around. (I tried to give detail to make it easier, I’m sorry if that was a lot)

Tall Idiot

Poly!Crows x male reader.

Notes: Not as long as I wanted it to but I had to get it out, so hopefully you’ll enjoy still.

Warnings: Wounds, kinda angsty but comforting. Nothing much I can say.

“Keep your eyes open.”

Matthias told you while he held your body in his arms, he was only one who could carry you. The others followed behind him, Wylan by his side and smiling at you. Nina on the other side make sure to keep focus on your heart beat. As if the wound was fatal and they couldn’t save you. But this wasn’t that kinda of wound or at least not at that point yet.

Each of their minds worried about you in this moment and thought about what would happen if you drew your last breath. They wouldn’t get to see you try and hind your smile or how kind you could be dispute acting cold. On late nights you would join Jesper to keep watch and pull him off of the gambling table or just kept him company, Wylan tagging along most times.

Then when you helped Nina with whatever she needed around the bar, or walked with her to the market. Inej was glad to have you along on a job because you were just as good at being quiet, or when you two would hang out on the rooftops. Kaz would miss the way you curled up with a book in his office while he did his paperwork or plans. Matthias would miss you laying on his shoulders while he read a book or spend your legs across his lap to lay down.

They all had things to miss.

“Just a bit longer.” Wylan said trying to comfort you. The door to the shared house only a few steps away. You could see how panicked they were over you, how they tried so hard not to loss it. You didn’t speak much and maybe it was the sleep taking ahold of you, or them showing you again just how much they loved you, you started to talk.

“M’Fine,” you slurred a bit and your eyelids started to get heavy. “Thank you.” You look up at them, kaz and Inej now coming into view from behind. All pairs of eyes are on you, “No need to thank us, dear.” Inej came close and pushed the hair off your face. A small curled up as you sighed, “No thank you for putting up with me.,” your hands feel from your side and eyes finally closing shut, “I love you…” then you were out cold.

Kaz watched and his body began to feel the water surrounding him, “Upstairs now.” He shouted and they all moved fast. They rush upstairs and lay you onto the bed, Nina trying to heal you as best she can as Inej goes to get the supplies.

After everything, Inej is wrapping you up and Nina helping her. Wylan is sitting on the bed pressing a wet cloth onto your forehead while Jesper sits beside the bed and holds your hand. Kaz watches from the chair in the corner as if his body is frozen in place. Matthias along side him as he leans on the wall staring at you, as if he were to look away you’d disappear.

“You big tall idoit,” Nina leans closer with tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe he said “Put up with him.” When we are the ones to annoy him.” Jesper jokes while he is in the same state as Nina and he gives your hand a squeeze. “He’s a handsome idiot.”

Inej bows to her knees beside Nina and says her soft prays to wish you a healthily recovery, and to thank them for not taking you away.

Kaz raises from his chair and makes his way over, “He’s not gone yet.” His tone doesn’t sound comforting but he’s trying. He just needed to state facts “He’s stubborn.” Inej looked up at him and offers a smile. Matthias sighs and moved over to the group and stands behind Nina and puts his hands on her shoulders, sending his own prayers out.

They would all watch over you and kept you safe. All six of them loved you to ends of the earth and back.

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

II. of niceties and awkward second meetings.

parts: previously / next plot: bruce makes an offer you actually can refuse... at first.pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, bruce wayne is still a masochist, bruce wayne is ALSO reckless :). words: 3.5k. edited: 2/28/24.

After every surgery—good or not so good—when you’re rinsing off and getting patted on the back for a job well done, you elect to feel hope. And then you hurry to lock yourself in your office and try to catch your breath.

The weight of a life on your hands follows you from room to room, from work to bed, from daydreams to night terrors. Even when it’s good, it rarely ever feels good. Questions bloat your brain: what if there’s something you missed? What if, despite it all, it’s not enough? Is the blood on your hands, then? Is the life yours to save or the patient’s to endure?

There was no solid answer. All you could do was wait for full recovery and try not to let it consume you.

Maybe tonight was a night for Thai. Maybe you’d call up your old roommates and get together at your place. Maybe you could finally tell them about the night Batman broke into your house, and how you stitched up his bullet wound, and then fell asleep 20 feet away because you had to meet Bruce fucking Wayne the very next morning and God help you if you embarrassed your boss by being late. So far, the only person who’d heard about it was the old lady who lived in the apartment below you, and all she’d done is pray for you.

You’d assured her you were fine, but she’d insisted on anointing your doors and windows before you left for work. The “demon of Gotham” she’d called him, herald of vengeance. The fact that you’d saved his life meant that you’d be spared in the reckoning... or whatever little old ladies learned in Sunday school.

Whatever she believed, you had no reason to think you’d be struck by lightning twice. Batman would not be returning to your home any time soon.

The thought almost made you sad.

There was no reason for him to return. Batman probably had a team of doctors waiting to tend to him if his arsenal of weaponry was any indicator of wealth. He wasn’t just any ol’ run of the mill vigilante, that was for certain.

You were just a blip. A freak accident. A glitch in the matrix. The chance that you’d been in the right place at the right time when Batman needed you most was just that: chance. And you were no gambler, but you could bet on your license that that man would never darken your doorstep (or window sill) again.

Maybe you’d stop by the liquor store too on your way home.

You’re rounding the corner when you collide with your boss, frantic as usual.

“Oh! Finally, there you are,” he grips your upper arms like a vice, eyes frenzied as they look you over, “why do you look like that?”

You imagine he’s referencing the dew of sweat on your skin and your scrubs out of whack. “I finished an operation fifteen minutes ago.” You answer, unimpressed. “I was just heading back to my office.”

Your attempt to sidestep him—to free yourself of the shackles that were his hands—proves useless. He spins to keep you in his grip, “You can’t! Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“You have a visitor.”

You frown, “A patient? No one’s on my schedule.”

“I’d like you to make an exception for this one.” His voice drops to a whisper. He readjusts your shirt sleeves as if dressing you up, prettying you for the highest bidder, and that sets you on edge, “Just trust me.”

You almost (almost) flinch away when he pushes you to your office door—now, a looming boulder instead of a gateway to your safe haven. Before you can even ask just who is waiting for you on the other side, your boss is rushing off down the hallway to do God knows what.

As if disarming a bomb, you slowly open the door to peek inside.

It scares the both of you, clearly, if the wide-eyed look he gives you says anything.

It’s like it hasn’t been a week since you’d last seen him. Bruce Wayne is wearing what looks like the same suit he’d worn last time, tie and collar stiff, jacket open underneath his billowy coat. But he looks awkward standing in your modest little office. He looks like he’s not supposed to be here, or at least not without his right hand man and the fanfare to follow.

He keeps his hands in front of him to show you he means no harm, “Your boss said it was okay to wait here for you.”

You’re still bracing yourself against the door, trying to figure out what he could possibly be doing in your office, what he’d possibly be waiting around for you for.

You think about the last time you’d seen him, when you’d grabbed him out of nowhere and his companion (Alfred, was it?) looked like he would have no problem breaking your spine if you dared manhandle him again. Oh God, he wasn’t going to sue, was he?

You swallow, “Uh, right. Can I help you?”

Bruce straightens up. His hands fall to his sides. You search his face to predict his next move but you’re puzzled to find that he’s just as clueless as you.

You didn’t know much about Bruce Wayne, that much had been established. What little you did know was some amorphous figure of nobility, the “prince of Gotham” as the press dubbed him.

Yet, standing before you in your simple little office, Bruce Wayne feels less like nobility and more like a stranger in foreign land. He keeps his hands in front of him and you’re able to make out purple dusting his knuckles. Bruised. Not bloody. Not recently. This piques your interest.

“How long have you been a surgeon?” Is his first question.

You slink into the room and debate on shutting the door, deciding to leave it open a crack; whether it is so you can escape or for him to feel unwelcome, you’re not entirely sure. “Four years. Not including the 12 years of school and residency.”

Bruce perks up just a tad to your bewilderment. “Did you study here in Gotham?”

“I did. I considered Metropolis.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Cheaper tuition.”

“Do you like it here in Gotham?”

“I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Wayne,” your voice comes out clipped—nervous—all the same, “I just got out of a surgery and I didn’t even know you’d be here so I haven’t got the faintest clue what you want-”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce apologizes, “I can come back another time.”

Come back? You assess his face once more, double checking for any sign of where this conversation is going, “Come back for what?”

For the first time since you entered the room, Bruce takes a step forward. A few, actually, ‘til he’s standing only a foot away and his whole deer-in-headlights deal is on full display. “A proposition.” Your head swims with big ideas. You’re thankful you’re still standing still. “I’d like to hire you.”

If Em could see you, she’d be laughing her head off at the look on your face. The emotions you're hit with are akin to blunt force trauma.

Bruce catches onto your distress and begins to explain, glancing away from your eyes to give you room to breathe, “Due to the nature of my job and the... events that transpired last November, I’m careful about my position in the public eye. I’ve decided to have a doctor on call, someone I can rely on in the event that something drastic happens again. It would be more menial work, but you would, of course, be greatly compensated: full benefits, triple your salary here. Nothing is out of the question.”

As the last word melts in the air, he finally locks eyes with you. Less deer-in-headlights now, more spotlight. More "I eagerly await your response".

You couldn’t even fathom the price point: triple your salary? You already made good money here, any more would be excessive. And then there’s the reality of the situation. You would be employed, solely, by Bruce Wayne. At his beck and call—perhaps moved into a nicer place within chauffeur distance of Wayne Tower—the support staff of the upper echelon.

Your mom wouldn’t bug you about moving out of Gotham ever again.

This all felt too good to be true. So good that your intuitive pendulum swung violently in warning. Bruce awaits your reply, wringing his hands before him and those glaring purple knuckles catch your attention again. How a CEO had managed those was a question you hesitated to entertain. Something else was going on here.

You knew Gotham was a corrupt city. It festered with crime in every aspect, that much the Riddler had made clear last Halloween. The late mayor, the DA, the police commissioner... and amongst his targets, Bruce Wayne had survived. Something else was definitely going on here.

“...I serve the public, Mr. Wayne. I reserve my skill for the citizens of Gotham without the... ability to seek better. I’m flattered you would consider me and I would be more than happy to point one of my talented colleagues your way in my stead. But I’m sorry, I can’t accept your offer.”

Bruce’s face falls for just a second. After all, if he were to wear his emotions on his face all the time, you doubted he’d be much of a successful businessman.

You’re thankful that he takes a step out of your personal space and doesn’t fuss, doesn’t try to shove a wad of cash at you, doesn’t throw more offers at you until you concede. “I appreciate your consideration, but that won’t be necessary. I should let you return to your work. Thank you for your time.”

You nod a little dumbly, the weight of what has just transpired starting to settle fully on you. Em would be far too angry at you to laugh, now.

With the grace of his pedigree, Bruce Wayne nods silently to you and leaves.

You notice once the muscles in your shoulders stop shaking that there’s something in your office that wasn’t there before. There, on the loveseat where Bruce Wayne had waited for you, was a business card.

You shakily approach the seat and collapse beside it, reaching out to read what adorns the back of the Wayne Enterprises logo.

Bruce Wayne CEO P: 212-XXX-XXXX

It takes the clatter of ceramic to pull you out of your reverie.

Beside you, Em hovers, “And here I thought you weren’t a fan.”

At the puzzled look you give her, Em jerks her head toward where your eyes had been focusing, mindlessly stirring in the events of the afternoon. At some point, the TV’s channel had changed from Days of our Lives to the Gotham News. They were running a story on a charity event downtown. Bruce Wayne was shaking hands on camera, the tagline “Bruce Wayne makes dazzling appearance alongside controversial mayor”. How fitting.

“‘m not,” you grumble, pushing your lunch around in yellowed Tupperware, “just thinking.”

“About?”

You glance at Em. Too little too late, your boss had clambered into your office shortly after Bruce left, pestering you about the conversation you’d had, disappointed when you’d told him you’d turned down the offer. “Imagine the press we’d get, one of our very own working for the CEO of Wayne Enterprises,” he’d argued, “you’ve got to reconsider.”

You hesitated to tell your tale again, fearful that you’d suffer the same reaction, but Em was not your boss. She would never let the topic rest. And it wasn’t like you signed an NDA, a truth that had only hit you hours after the fact, “I got a job offer today.”

Em’s eyebrows shoot up, “From West Mercy? Arkham?”

The very thought of working in Arkham Asylum had you abandoning your lunch altogether, “God, no. It was more like... on-demand. Concierge. A very rich patient wanted to hire me as their private doctor.”

“Wow... was it one of your patients?”

“No, I’ve never examined him in my life.”

“Him?” You recognized that tone of voice. A slew of questions were on the way if you didn’t elaborate fast enough.

Besides yourself and Em huddled in a corner, the break room was relatively empty. One of the ER nurses was napping, another engrossed in a game of Sudoku on their phone. You doubted they would hear even if you raised your voice above a whisper.

Quietly, because you clam up at the thought of saying his name out loud, you fish out his business card and slide it across the table to her.

It takes her but a moment to process. First a deep inhale, then her hand slaps the table (the Sudoku nurse glances up at you both and then changes his mind), then she’s gripping at your scrubs and shaking you violently in your chair, “Shut the front door! Please tell me you said yes!”

You frown, “No, I didn’t.”

“Why the hell not? I know you don’t keep up with the times in this city, but this guy is loaded!”

“I do keep up with the times. I just don’t give a rat’s ass about Bruce Wayne. A crime punishable by death, apparently.”

“But why in the world would you want to keep working here when you could be... having lunch on a terrace? Discussing lab results over Pinot Grigio? Jetting off to the Bahamas to check his vitals on vacation?”

You snort, “Exactly what I told him: I serve the public. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Could always do both.”

You tried to imagine it, for Em’s sake. The terrace lunches, the Pinot Grigio. You imagined the nice apartment from before and the esteem that your boss was sure you could bring the hospital.

And you imagined Bruce Wayne, with a limp. With bruised knuckles. Always looking at you with those big eyes that somehow told you everything and nothing at the same time. Like an open book in a dead language. You thought about the night that Wayne Tower caught fire and the world that had been crumbling down in Gotham had started to feel truly broken. Politicians die all the time, but the uber rich? Even you had watched the sky in horror.

And now that same man had asked you—you, of all people—to be there in case there was a next time.

You thought about the Batman. Would you say yes if he asked you the exact same question?

You hadn’t considered both.

You’re unaware that Em is leaving until her chair scoots loudly across the laminate, “Think on it. Seriously. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.” Her hand brushes your shoulder fleetingly. Then she’s leaving and you’re left to think again.

It was a bit ironic that his next visit took place as you were perusing apartment listings.

You hadn't seen him get inside your home the first time. He’d just been there, as if he’d always been there and you just never noticed. This time, he doesn’t have the urgency to break in. He waits at your window… staring in at you. No knocking. Not even a muffled “Can I come in?”

You don’t know how he expects anyone to invite him inside their home with those kinds of manners. You set your laptop aside and walk over to the curtains, his figure becoming clearer, more menacing as eyes silently follow you. By the time you reach the window, your heart is beating at an unhealthy pace. You had been able to get that adrenaline down before. How did you manage that again?

Batman waits patiently. Your hand presses to the glass, the warmth of it leaving behind a visible print as you push up on the glass, “Don’t tell me,” his head cocks to the side as you begin, “another bullet?”

If he is suffering from a wound like the last, he doesn’t look it. He’s crouched on your fire escape with his cape billowing behind him and the light of your apartment giving off just enough of an ominous glow.

After last time, you’d sneaked some extra supplies back to your place under the paranoia that something might happen again. And, let’s be honest, no one would raise a brow at having everything you need to clean a gunshot wound in this city. You couldn’t say it was entirely just for him, though.

The silence goes on uncomfortably long. You start to wonder if he even heard you, the way he stares you down, unmoving. He resembles a stray caught stealing from a trashcan, seconds from sprinting in the opposite direction to avoid being caught.

Eventually, your heartbeat spikes again. What had he told you last time? To run if someone tried to break in? Maybe he had wanted you to sprint the second you saw a human looming on your fire escape, regardless of their vague bat shape. Was he angry? He kind of always looked angry.

“Have you noticed anyone following you?” His question causes just the briefest alarm.

Living on the not-greatest side of Gotham, you had learned how to keep your head down but your eyes everywhere. If some mugger were looking to jump you as you got out of your car, you’d know. You shake your head, palms beginning to sweat.

Batman assesses you for a bit longer. You can’t tell if he’s reading you for a lie or if his instincts are just telling him otherwise, but eventually, he accepts your answer.

And begins to leave.

“Wait,” you stutter out against your better judgement, when he’s already stood to his full height, one boot positioned on the railing to propel himself below. He looks over his shoulder at you very slowly, “how’s your... side? Wound heal okay?

He looks down to where you’d stitched him, where his armor had been mended. “It’s better.”

You sigh, relieved. “You’ve gotten it looked at, then.”

“Someone looked at it.”

His wording gives you pause. “What about your stitches? Did you get them redone?” He hesitates. “You... did get them redone, right? Better. Preferably by someone who wasn’t worried about you dying on their living room floor.” Your skin prickles when you see his guilty look. “Batman, if you’ve been fighting crime every night for the past week with the same stitches I put in you days ago-”

“I’ve been through worse.”

“So you keep saying.” You really don’t mean to grit your teeth at him, practically stomping your foot because you’d, at the very least, expected him to be a bit smart about a bullet wound.

But, then again, you were talking to a man dressed as a bat.

You crawl out onto the fire escape, chilly and biting and unforgiving as the night may be, and watch Batman turn halfway toward you. You have to resist the urge to brush your hand against his side, an act far too intimate with Kevlar in the way. You look up at him, “Don’t suppose you’d let me take another look at it?”

The first time, sure, he let you because he was close to dying. With a motto of “I’ve been through worse” at his disposal, you doubted he would let you do it again unless the circumstances were dire.

Sure enough, he moves defensively away from you. You take heart in that it seems less like he distrusts you and more like he’s got a bravado issue. Not great, but better. Easier to fix.

You think of the medical supplies in your apartment and wonder if you’ve got what it takes to coax him inside. “I thought that you might not come again. Guy like you fighting crime every night must have people on hand for stuff like this, right? You’re not just any vigilante. Couldn’t be.” His unsettling glare makes the cold seep into you just a little bit more, “You don’t. Do you?”

He doesn’t answer you. His eyes shift from yours to the cityscape. Looking for a way out, maybe.

But if he wanted to leave, he would leave. Why would he hesitate?

“I just want to look. Make sure it’s not infected. No poking or prodding, I promise.”

“It’s not. I had someone look at it.”

“A doctor?”

“...No.”

“Someone who knows what they’re looking at, at least?”

He looks down at you. There’s something there that he’s keeping close to his chest, too much information for a stranger (even one who’s saved his life). You wait to see what his decision will be. “You work at Gotham General.” Batman states, matter-of-factly.

“...I know you were bleeding to death when I told you, but you’ve got to keep up in this city.” You see a hint of a smile on his mouth that is just as easily written off as a scowl. “What about it?”

Again, that look.

Just as you’re certain that you’re about to break through to something, a siren goes off in the distance. Sure enough, when the both of you look to the sky, his emblem is carved out in the clouds, beckoning him down to the streets once more. Your heart sinks. You were so close.

Batman waits a beat, positioning himself on the railing again. His eyes find yours over his shoulder, cape fluttering with the promise of taking flight, “They’re lucky to have you.”

He leaves. It feels even colder when he does.

[whitexwolfxx310]

I Love You In Every Universe

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: Trying to mend your relationship with Bucky is going so painfully slow. And then it's not.

Warnings: Spicy content! 18+ only! Cursing, oral sex MTF, penetration, praise kink, small amount of submissive kink, and I think that's all?

Word Count: 3428

A/Ns: I needed to write a total smut post. Those seem to be pretty popular haha. We have Baker Bucky! I got a few requests for that! Anyway, enjoy! I'll continue the storyline in my next post!

Previous Part

Masterlist

Finding out that your brother is not only alive, but that he is the new face of Hydra, is one of the biggest twists that fate could spit out. After the terrifying realization that occurred in your office, you’ve been thrown into countless meetings and conferences where you were probed for information on Luke that wasn’t already disclosed in his military files.

Steve and Tony had constant questions and concerns about the situation. They felt that maybe Luke would try and reach out or maybe there was some hidden information that you would somehow be privy to. But it had been two years since everyone thought that he was long dead.

The tension in The Compound rose. Your job got put into question, certain people wondering why you would even apply to intern here in the first place. Are you a double agent? Finding and leaking information to Hydra from within? Your morals had never once been questioned until now.

Bucky was the only one who didn’t make the whole situation feel like an interrogation. He remained supportive, being the person to suggest you take time to recollect yourself when it became too much. The only one who didn’t have questions but was always silently there in the corner watching and listening, taking every bit of information in.

A task force was assigned to try and track Luke, in hope of him not being too far gone. It had been done with Bucky, could it be done with your brother as well? You were also chosen for this mission, which did not go over well with Bucky. Him and Tony had argued over using yourself as bait to draw him out. In the end, it was your decision, and you would chose to go.

Even with the stress of the current situation, you used Bucky as a welcomed distraction. Leaning on one another as you both grasped onto your undeniable tethered connection. There was still a long road to recovery for both Bucky and your relationship. But he did his damndest to make you feel as though you weren’t under constant surveillance (at least from him). When the daily brainstorming sessions were over, you both avoided the topic of Luke. It was still difficult to process the concept that he was still alive. It just didn’t seem real.

Taking things slow with Bucky has always been an understatement. A part of him is apprehensive, more so now than ever. There has been close to no physical contact. You truly don't know everything that he went through overseas, but it was apparent that he was still working his way through it. You had your 'boyfriend' back. Yet in a sense, you didn't. And still, his presence still left the same, if not more, desire in it's wake.

Bucky was given his own apartment within The Compound for the time being. Although there was nothing to be 'afraid' of, everyone, except yourself, felt that it was necessary to slowly ease back into his routines and not just cannonball into the deep end.

Spending time together had always been your favorite thing. But now, it was like everything was exciting and new once again. The two of you were dealing with the 'holes' Bruce had warned you about- and the dark cloud of your brother hanging over both of your heads. These said ‘holes’ were more along the lines of not remembering how you take your coffee and other small instances. He remembers you, and most of the time that you had shared.

You filled the limited free time in your days together with simplistic dates and doing things that he really took interest in. Going to the gym together, long drives with the windows down listening to music playing, but most of all... Bucky loved being in the kitchen. It was as if he had a new found passion for cooking and baking-something simplistic to lose himself in. But he wouldn't share that pastime with anyone else, feeling like he may be judged. Although, you had no complaints. There was no shortage on baked goods and even homemade bread from scratch.

Bucky is in the kitchen, covered in flour and chocolate. The clear evidence of him indulging in his guilty pleasure.

"Mmm. These are seriously the best chocolate chip cookies I have ever had." You mumble.

You didn't want to be rude by talking with your mouth full, but he eagerly watched, awaiting your reaction to his creation of the day.

"Really!?" He asks, excitedly.

Nodding your head and smiling, you go to take another bite of the cookie. Since it is still warm from recently coming out of the oven, it partially breaks- melty chocolate all over your face and hands.

There's a moment of silence- you and Bucky are looking at one another until his nose scrunches and he starts hysterically laughing. A sweet sound that I have missed for so long. It's contagious. The next thing you know, you're both laughing to the point of just wheezing. Your cheeks hurt, the place where your abs once were before he entered the baking scene, hurt. It wasn't even that funny, just one of those simplistic moments where you get to fully be yourselves. A core memory.

"You're a hot mess," Bucky says, trying to compose himself by fighting through the laughter. His cheeks are burning red. The harder he tries to subdue the laughing, the more he fails. "Come here..." He reaches for a dish towel, dampening it under the faucet of the sink before taking a few steps closer.

You abruptly stop laughing, taking in how suddenly close in proximity he is to you. Aside from the hello/goodbye awkward hugs that you look forward to just being in his arms for a moment- this is rediscovering old territory.

Your mouth opens slightly as you hold your breath, awaiting to see what he does next. Covering his thumb with the cloth, he ever so gently wipes chocolate off of your bottom lip. His eyes fasten their grip with your own, occasionally breaking contact to look down at your lips.

Kiss me. Your inner conscious is screaming, begging and pleading for him to make a move. To just be wrapped up in all that is him- to let go of the past few months and just be yourselves. You can feel your chest instinctively move closer to his- which is rising and falling deeply. Bucky's mouth opens slightly as he takes in a shuddering breath.

Yes... His eyes are now solely focused on your mouth. You impulsively bite your bottom lip, willing it into the universe for his lips to be on yours. You're met with glacier blue eyes, now looking deep within yours. You cannot help but look up at Bucky with pleading, desire filled eyes.

Please.

"I-" He starts. Time is standing still as you hang onto what he will say. "I...um-" He breaks the eye contact as he takes a step back. "I have to clean this kitchen. My OCD is getting the better of me." He nervously chuckles once.

"Oh." There is no hiding your disappointment.

Bucky grabs a nearby plate full of the cookies that he had just made.

"Here...some for you to take home." He offers, sounding hopeful that you’ll accept.

He's kicking me out. Point taken.

"Oh, okay. Well, thanks. I'll see you tomorrow?" You can only focus on the plate that he handed you, trying to hide the humiliation. Not even waiting for a response, you quickly dash out of his apartment.

Breaking into a full sprint in the hallway, your back at your own residence. Quickly shutting the door behind you and laying your back flat against it, your mind starts racing.

We will never get back to the way we were. Giving him time and space isn't enough. Maybe after all he has been through, he has moved past this relationship? Past me? But I love him. I promised I'd wait...but is he just prolonging the inevitable? Will my brother become the new thing to try and get between us? I can't just let him go... I can't. He needs to know.

In that moment you dropped the plate; The shattering muffled slightly from the softness of the cookies. You didn't care. Turning around to open the door and run back to his living quarters- professing your love and need like some girl in a romcom you would make fun of.

You swing open the door, about to dart out when you smack into something. Someone.

"Oh, sorry I-....Bucky?" Shocked is an understatement.

He's standing at your door with an anxious look on his face- still covered in flour.

"I-..." He starts. Your heart is pounding- the sound of your heartbeat swooshing in your ears.

"Fuck it." Bucky breathes as he takes a step forward. Cupping both sides of your face, hungrily pressing his lips into yours.

Immediately you liquify into the kiss. His lips taste sweet- the remanence from his all day baking. Your arms interlock behind his neck as he steps forward- pushing you backwards into your apartment without his lips leaving yours.

It doesn't matter that you clumsily stumble behind, Bucky keeps you steady by holding each side of your waist while sustaining the kiss. Once through the doorway, he uses the back of his boot to loudly kick the door closed- not caring who might see or hear.

Guiding you against the wall of the hallway, Bucky reaches behind his neck and grabs your hands to pin them on the surface above your head, his metal hand still on your hip. The assertive motion causes a chain reaction- a small whimper from your throat echoes into his mouth. Being held firmly in place, your hips hungerly try to buck up into his body, greedily needing every point of physical contact possible.

His lips break away, but only for a moment as they move down to your neck. His tongue grazes, teeth nip occasionally through the soft suction noises his mouth leaves behind. You know that you'll be marked in just a matter of time. But it is his public claim on you that you'll proudly wear.

While keeping your hands pinned against the wall, Bucky's free hand starts to explore your body; painfully gentle he traces along your side, the bottom of your stomach, between your breasts, etc. But he's being cautious. He knows how to manhandle you and this is not it. Call it selfish, but after a total of 2 months of not being with him, you want aggressive Bucky.

"Bucky..." You breathe. The sound of his name makes him stop.

His body leans more into yours- touching chest to chest, which is growing more difficult due to the heavy breathing. Pressing his forehead into yours, his vision still focused on the trail of red blotches he's left behind.

"Hmm?" He answers as he adjusts his posture slightly so that his thigh is now between your legs. If you pressed your hips down the tiniest bit against him, the evidence of just how desperate you are for him would be all over his leg.

"Don't hold back." You say softly, but confidently. Bucky's eyes blaze to yours with a look of exhilaration dancing across them.

"Don't worry..." His voice is deep, husky.

The hand that he was using to pin your arms above your head lets go- letting it gradually slip down to your jawline. He hooks your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, encouraging you to turn your head. Bucky leans in, his breath hot against your cheek.

"I'll take care of you." It comes out low, from the back of his throat. The throbbing between your legs starts to become fierce. In addition, his tongue presses flat to your cheek, licking the side of your face just once.

Using one prompt motion, Bucky is now carrying you bridal style. His lips rashly press back to yours. Even with your eyes closed, you can feel the gentle sway of him walking- the sound of his footsteps pressing down into the floor.

He sits you on the edge of the bed, getting down on his knees and hooking each of his pointer fingers into the waistband of your jeans to start shimmying them down. Lifting your feet barely off the floor to get your pants the rest of the way off, Bucky discards them and encourages you to lay back on the bed.

Still on his knees, Bucky leans in and places one velvety soft kiss on the inside of your thigh. The lack of touch for months has left you on a whole new level of sensitive. A low moan in the form of a hum reverberates in your throat. The warm air resulting from a tiny snort from him already making your legs twitch.

Hitching your knees over his shoulders, the tips of his fingers gently caress the inside of your thighs. It's almost painful how good it feels. Taking his warm pointer finger he swipes once in the middle of your folds- above the panties.

"You're already so wet for me. What a good girl." Bucky purrs.

I'm about to get absolutely fucking wrecked.

Your eyes roll back and close as your back arches, gripping the bedsheets already feeling like a volcano about to erupt just from Bucky's heated breath.

*Thwap*

The slight sting in the groin takes you by surprise. Propping yourself on your elbows, you look down to Bucky with confusion. He's gazing into your eyes and a playful smile.

"I want you to look at me." His voice is still smoky and deep.

Being so hyper focused on everything he was doing, including looking up at you from between your legs, you wouldn't even need to be touched to lose control at this point. Even just the thought of his body covering yours is sending cold shudders of ice down your spine.

Without warning, he shoves the back of your thighs so that your head is between your knees. Now kneeling on the bed, he holds you in place, leaving yourself completely exposed; propped up right to his face, occupied with a content and cunning grin.

Fuck.

With locked eyes, Bucky focuses on your face as his mouth simply presses directly on you. Allowing for you to have a small moment before he starts to work his magic. You gasp at the connection; your knees going weak as you grip onto the bedsheets underneath you.

'I want you to look at me.' His voice rings in your head. It takes every molecule in your body to hold his gaze with his head between your thighs, but you do. Just like the obedient woman that you are for him. His ridged tongue sweeps over your labia as a form of slow and delicious torture. The licking over your sensitive skin causes you to whimper- Bucky looks at you through hooded eyes as he makes a few small reverberating sounds in his throat as approval.

Moaning, you can't help but grind your hips against his face. It feels incredible. He feels incredible. The leisurely, steady, sensual motions tell you that he's enjoying this as much as you are. You're practically coming off of the bed, but Bucky holds you in place as you start panting- the sounds coming from your breath are pleading, begging for that outer body, earthshattering orgasm.

"Please," You sigh, as your hand digs and grips tightly into his hair; knowing full well that it's slightly painful but don't care. Your quiet request is received as his tongue swirls around the entrance of your core. Once, twice, three times and then you come apart.

Unsure if you are screaming his name, thrashing against him, or whatever else, as you can only see stars in the moment. There is no room for any sort of coherent thought. Spent and exhausted are an understatement as Bucky lifts his head- His eyes practically glowing as he licked the lips of his sinfully wet mouth.

"I love it when you squirm," it comes out as a purr.

He carefully lays you back down before crawling over your body like a panther, his hips pressed in and down against your own. You're pleased to find that he is already naked from the waist down, raring to go.

Bucky's hand tenderly grazes your cheek as your chest still heavily rises and falls. It isn't long until your fingertips are dragging across the hot, soft skin of his chest. His hips settle between yours and you instinctively lock a leg around them. You can feel him press against your entrance, wanting, needing to be inside of you. Now you're lasered focused on him as you wait for that sharp breath as he pushes himself in and his eyes practically roll back in his head.

"I want you to look at me," You think to yourself and completely understand the fascination in that moment.

Beginning to press inch by precious, thick inch, you're grateful for the remanence of your orgasm which helps to ease his way inside. "Fuck," he breathes out as he looks downward to watch himself enter. You smirk to yourself knowing just how tight you are and can feel your walls contracting around him, a silent invitation to bring his enormous length in deeper. Once Bucky was fully inside, down to the base, his eyelids fluttered shut for a moment as he took in the sensation. Once they opened, his gaze was sealed on yours.

Taking in a deep breath in unison, he waits as you become accustomed to stretching around him. His hips wriggle the tiniest bit before he pulls back and shallowly thrusts in once; The sound escaping from his lips makes every single nerve ending in your body light up. You suck in a sharp breath as he finds his rhythm, his pubic bone teasing your clit with every push. The smallest adjustment and he is now inclined so that each ridge can brush against your g-spot with every stroke. Forward and back. Forward and back.

Bucky almost growls as you claw at his back and practically scream in pleasure. Your lips mesh against his bicep, stifling your moans ever so slightly. You come again. And again. He relentlessly keeps the same pace, your body shuddering under his to the point that your mouth is wide open but no noise is coming out. You start to feel the familiar pulsing inside you, filling you. It's warm; a few degrees hotter than his body pressed against yours. His fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts harder, coming over and over again, (which you didn't even think was possible).

He collapses on top of you like a weighted blanket as he tries to level his breathing. Bucky's body continues to tremble against yours. A moment later he shifts his weight to lay next to you. Placing a kiss against your temple, Bucky pulls you in close against him; The coolness from his metal arm almost bites at the beads of sweat across your skin. The familiarity of his body spooning into yours is so comforting that you drift to sleep.

During the night you stir, reaching for Bucky on the other side of the bed to only be met with cold sheets. He's gone. Your heart drops to your stomach as you sit up, holding the blanket up to your chest to cover yourself as you stare at the emptiness beside you.

Maybe it was too fast.

Something catches your attention out of your peripheral vision. You quickly look to the corner of your room, which is especially dark for the time of night. You squint, seeing something- But unable to make out what it is. Though, your stomach jumps in excitement.

"Bucky?" You ask, sounding almost too hopeful. As your eyes adjust to the bold darkness, you can see his silhouette in the corner. But he doesn't move. It doesn't even look like he's breathing. He sits so completely still that it's... terrifying.

"Bucky...?" Calling his name softly, you realize that this might be one of those moments you had been warned about. Your mind is racing and blank at the same time as you reach for scenarios and resolutions- but come up with nothing.

Until...

You clear your throat softly, pulling yourself into a sitting fetal position. Why of all things this came to mind, you have no idea. You're hoping, praying that you are wrong. You cringe as the word slips out.

"Soldat?"

"Ya gotov otvechet." Ready to comply.

Fuck.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @floralwsloki @erinallene @fafafalafel @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @winterassisin84 @cjand10

[tokusmuts]

A chosen relationship, and a chosen desire.

P/s: This story will not profitable to everyone. It's just a try to have something different, but you will still see familiar things to my previous works. Hope that people who chose to read this will still enjoy it, if not, please rest assure that I will return to my normal works and style soon!

Characters: Hidden Male Character x Shida Yuumi

Words count: 4167

Categories: Oneshot, MILF, NTR, Missionary, Doggy.

Enjoy!

“When will it be the weekend?”

You wonder, looking up at the wide sky outside. From the day you got this job, you started to turn away from it, even though it was just office work like many people, and you really didn't have to do too much other than some documents, but the atmosphere, and the fatigue, the tiredness that everyone shows makes you really swept away by that gloom. That evening, you walked home, and the apartment door opened. Even though this atmosphere was no more new than at work, why did you feel it was so pleasant and comfortable? It's probably because of the smell of the food and your best friend cursing loudly when your teammates play too poorly. Interrupting dinner tonight, you receive a text message:

"Hey! Are you two ready for a break?"

From the moment I saw this writing style and then looked up at the sender's name, the feeling that the most peaceful things appeared to soothe me was indescribable. The chosen sister Shida Yuumi came at the right time; she wanted the two of you and her family to go out and relieve stress at the beach, as if she were reading your mood right now. You hastily agreed; even if there was an unexpected meeting where your salary might be reduced, you would ignore it. You need recovery medicine as quickly as possible, like right now.

The next day, when the limousine arrived in front of the apartment door, Shida's family was truly full of energy, despite the two generals nodding right in front of them.

“These two, lighten up for me! Where can we go with a face like that?"

Well, reluctance should be put first. Who can easily escape the atmosphere that has surrounded them all week? And you also had a deep sleep, even though you still had to take on the task of looking after Shida's little daughter in your arms. Self-cleaning is about to come. You tell yourself that this tired feeling is about to pass. And you really feel it when you reach the beach and check in at the homestay. Seeing your comfort gradually return, your sister also became more excited.

“Hey, you look more refreshed! Change your clothes, and let's all go to the beach!

A moment later, you walked out of the room, and you were frozen by what you saw—the sister you normally didn't care about was now taking up the entire frame. That body in just a bikini really makes you understand why her husband chose her, and they are together now. But who are you with? This is your family, so those impressions only appear purely and temporarily; the first outing continues, and the two sisters continue to tell stories that only people who meet after a long time can have to tell with each other, and that was the only thing that bothered you on that first day. But in the following days, that "only thing" gradually grew in your mind; a greater desire formed in you, and you couldn't stand it anymore. That evening, you suggested a potential location for your next outing. You pretend to agree, but the next morning, you immediately refused and pretended to have health problems. Shida noticed that you seemed unwell, so she volunteered to stay and see if you had any problems. 

On such a good day, there's only two people in such a large bedroom of the homestay, which are you and her. The mixed feelings wandering around you—just when you can express your feelings to your chosen sister, but you also feel regretful because you're diving into her family—you had to separate her family just to have this moment while she's still not sensing anything about your feelings. You stood there lifelessly with your thoughts swirling around, not noticing that Shida was standing in front of you again. She placed her hand on your forehead as her question made you wake up in the middle of a sea of thoughts:

"Come on, are you fine? Let me check if you're sick or something. It's a pity if we cannot have some fun outside while the boys and my daughter are secretly hanging out, right?"

As she lifted her hand off your forehead, her eyes searched yours, concern etched on her face. She didn't notice the turmoil brewing within you; she was too caught up in her own thoughts. She took a step back, her hand dropping to her side and her gaze lingering on you for a moment before she turned to look out the window. The sounds of the waves crashing against the shore drifted in, a gentle melody that seemed to calm her. "I guess we're all just a bit stressed from this trip. It's a big change for all of us, especially for our little one." She turned back to look at you, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Why don't we take a break and relax for a bit? We can order some room service, watch a movie, or even play some games. What do you say?" Her voice was soft and soothing, trying to ease the tension between you.

"Yeah, I got stressed, but not totally because of this trip, but something else is...". You responded, slowly beginning the plan. Shida raised her brow, her eyes narrowing slightly at your response. She could sense that there was more to it, but she didn't want to press the issue. She wanted to give you some space to process your thoughts. She walked over to the dresser and started to rummage through her suitcase. "Well, if you want to talk about anything, I'm all ears. But if you'd rather keep it to yourself, that's fine too. We're family after all." Her voice was gentle, and her tone was sympathetic. She turned back to you with a silk robe in hand, shrugging it off as she spoke. "I'll order us some snacks. How about that?" She gave you a reassuring smile, her attempt at making everything alright again.

"You know, I'm having a feeling; this feeling is really a "family" thing."

Shida's smile faltered for a moment, her intuition telling her something was off. She looked at you with a mix of concern and curiosity, her eyes searching for answers. As she noticed the intensity in your gaze, she took a step back, unconsciously touching her robe-covered chest. "Is everything alright...?" She asked, her voice laced with uncertainty. The atmosphere in the room shifted, and the tension between you two became palpable. "You seem... different." She let out a nervous laugh, her eyes flickering around the room before meeting yours again. Her heart started to race, her breath catching in her throat as she braced herself for whatever you might say or do. And as an instinct, you directly respond.

"Yes, I'm different...because I'm wanting to...make a real family with you, Shida!"

You didn't give her any time to react to your words as you closed the distance between you both, your hands gripping her waist firmly. Your lips found hers in a fierce, dominating kiss that took her by complete surprise. Shida's eyes widened, her breath hitching in her throat as she struggled to process your sudden advance. She tried to pull away, her hands pushing against your chest, but your hold on her was unyielding. "No... We can't..." She whispered against your lips, her voice trembling with confusion and fear. "We have our family." Her words were muffled by your lips as you continued to kiss her, your body pressing against hers and the fire within you burning hotter than ever. "I don't care about anything anymore. I want you." You confessed, your voice low and desperate as your hands roamed over her body. "I've always wanted you, Shida. I couldn't resist it any longer." The room had become a whirlwind of emotions, and the two of you were caught in a tempest as you continued to kiss her. Your need for her was overwhelming.

As you continued to assert your dominance over her, Shida's initial shock and resistance began to wane. The feel of your body against hers, the intensity of your kiss, and the desperation in your voice were all enough to confuse her. Her body started to respond against her better judgment, her arms wrapping around your neck, pulling you closer. "I... I can't do this." She said it between heated kisses, her voice wavering. "I'm married; I have a daughter... What would happen to them?" Her eyes pleaded with yours, attempting to reason with you and make you see sense. But her body betrayed her, pressing against yours, her hands roaming under your shirt, feeling the heat of your skin. "But... I... I do love you... in a different way." She admitted it, her breath hitching as you trailed kisses down her neck. "I love you as a brother, as a family member, not... like this." Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek as she tried to push you away, her body betraying her words once again.

You continued to kiss and explore her body, your hands never leaving her, even when she tried to push you away. Your eyes never left hers, the fire in them not fading as you continued to ignore her pleas. "I know you love me as your brother, but I can't accept it anymore. I want to be more than that. I want to be your husband, your lover, your everything." You whispered against her ear, your hands moving to unwrap the silk robe, revealing her lace undergarments. "I've dreamt about this moment for so long. Your body, your ass... I've fantasized about it so many times during this trip." You pulled the strapless bra down, exposing her breasts to your eager eyes, your hands cupping them, feeling their weight in your palms. "I'm not going to stop, Shida. I can't. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything else in my life." You said, your voice growing more demanding, your need for her consuming you as you continued to kiss her, your hands wandering, exploring, and teasing her body.

As Shida's protests grew fainter, her body continued to respond to your advances. The conflict within her was evident; her eyes were filled with a mixture of desire and guilt. She knew she shouldn't be enjoying your touch, but her body betrayed her mind. You continued to explore her with your actions, leaving her trembling in your arms. "D-Don't... this... this isn't right. We can't do this. I... I can't choose between you and my husband, between you and my daughter." Her voice shook, and her body twitched at your touch as she tried to maintain her resistance. Her hands clenched the fabric of your shirt, and her breathing became more labored. Shida's tears continued to flow as her body arched into your touch, the struggle between her loyalty and her own desires becoming more apparent. "But I do love you. I just can't." Her words were barely audible as you continued to press your advances, your urgency growing as she stood there, torn between her feelings.

You took her silence as consent as your hands roamed her body, unzipping your pants and releasing your hardened manhood. You positioned yourself right at her entrance, your gaze locked with hers, as you pushed into her slowly, both of you gasping at the first contact. The resistance was fleeting as she opened herself to you, her body accepting you even when her mind was still in turmoil. "Oh god, this is... this is wrong." She whimpered, her hands gripping the bedsheets as you began to move, your thrusts slow and deliberate at first.

"I know, but it feels so right." You whispered, your hands moving to her hips, holding her steady as you started to increase the pace. Her moans filled the room, a mix of pleasure and guilt, as her body responded to your touch, her legs wrapping around you, pulling you deeper. "Shida... I can't stop. I want you too much. Don't fight me. Just let yourself feel it." Your voice was low and commanding as you continued to take her, your lips finding hers once more, devouring her in a kiss that left no room for resistance. The two of you moved in perfect sync, your bodies entwined in an act that was both forbidden and deliciously satisfying. The room was filled with the sound of your skins slapping against each other, and the scent of desire was heavy in the air. Your hands roamed her body, leaving no part untouched, your fingers teasing her clit, making her moan even louder.

As you continued to thrust into her, her moans grew louder, her body responding to your touch. You could feel her tightening around you; the signs of her impending climax were clear. Your own arousal was building the pleasure of having her more potent than any other before. You leaned down, your lips finding her neck, your teeth nibbling at her tender skin as you whispered, "I love you, Shida."

"Oh... I... I'm... I'm coming." She cried out, her body shaking as she reached her peak, her inner walls contracting around you. The sensation was enough to push you over the edge, and you let out a guttural moan, releasing yourself into her as your own orgasm washed over you. Once you both came down from your high, you collapsed on top of her, your breathing heavy as you lay there, your chest heaving. Shida's body was trembling beneath you, her eyes locked on yours, a mix of guilt and satisfaction etched on her face. The room was filled with the aftershocks of your passionate encounter, with the echoes of your moans still lingering in the air. Silence fell between you, and the weight of what had just happened was heavy on both your shoulders. Shida's tears continued to flow, and her emotions tangled in the aftermath.

Shida's eyes met yours, her tears spilling over as she lay there, her body still quivering. She didn't know what to say or what to think. The line she thought she'd never cross had been erased, replaced by an unforeseen passion that had consumed her. As she lay there, shattered by the reality of what had transpired, you could see the confusion, the guilt, and the undeniable desire still flickering in her eyes.

"W-What have we done? We can't do this. We can't keep doing this. You... you're my brother, my family." She whispered, the weight of the situation finally settling on her. Her body was still yours; your spent member was still inside her, the remnants of your lovemaking surrounding you both. Shida closed her eyes, her silence as eloquent as any words she could utter. She didn't move, her body still entwined with yours, her heart heavy as she struggled to come to terms with the consequences of your actions. Without a word, you leaned down, your lips finding hers in a tender, almost apologetic kiss. Your hands moved to her face, your fingers brushing away her tears as you whispered reassurances, "Everything will be alright, Shida. We'll figure it out. I promise."

But even as you spoke, you knew that the consequences of your actions were far-reaching. You had crossed a line, and there was no going back. For now, though, you were content to lay there, your bodies still entwined, sharing the afterglow of your forbidden union. Shida's body remained still in your arms, her mind no doubt wandering through a sea of thoughts as she grappled with the reality of the situation. The tension in the room was palpable; the weight of your actions was hanging heavily between you both. You could feel her body still against yours, her embrace tight, if not for the wrong reason. Her heartbeat was racing, and her breaths were shallow as she attempted to process what had just happened.

"I-I don't know what to say... I... I shouldn't have let it happen." Her voice trembled, and her eyes were still cast downward, not wanting to look at you or meet your gaze. She could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders, the responsibility of her family, her husband, and her daughter suddenly an unbearable burden. "But, yes... it was... intense. I won't lie about that. But we can't do it again. We can't put our family in danger like this." Her voice was firm, but the catch in her throat betrayed her true feelings. The emotion of the moment was too much for her, and she started to cry again, her body shaking with the force of her suppressed emotions.

You could sense her hesitation and the internal struggle brewing within her. Her body was still trembling; a mix of pleasure and guilt was apparent in her reactions. Your hands roamed her body, your fingers trailing across her skin, trying to draw her back into the world of passion and desire. "Shida, let's enjoy this. You know you want it too. Our feelings for each other... they're too strong to ignore." You whispered, your lips finding hers once more, your kiss filled with urgency, and your hands gently pulling her closer. "Just let go for a little while longer. We'll figure everything else out later." You pleaded, your eyes filled with an intensity that mirrored the desires consuming you both. Shida's body responded to your touch, with her breathing growing heavier and her nipples hardening under your fingers. The decision hung in the balance, with the pull of passion and the guilt of betrayal warring within her. The moment was intense, charged with unspoken emotions and undeniable chemistry, leaving the outcome uncertain.

As Shida's body continued to react to your touch, the indecision in her eyes slowly dissolved, replaced by a fire that mirrored your own. She leaned into your kiss, her hands tightening their grip on your shirt as she abandoned herself to the torrent of desire that surged within her. "Fine... let's just enjoy it... one more time." She whispered, her voice heavy with need, her body arching towards yours in anticipation. You took her response as the green light you had been waiting for, rolling her onto her back and positioning yourself above her. The desire in your eyes was unmistakable; your hands roamed her body once more, teasing her into another round of passion. The rhythm of your movements picked up, each thrust more intense than the last, and the room filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding and the gasps and moans that accompanied them.

"God, Shida, your ass is perfect...but I cannot imagine that pounding it can be at a higher level like this." You said, the high is making your words uncontrollable anymore.

Your words sent a shiver down Shida's spine, her eyes flashing with pleasure at your compliment. She gripped the sheets, her legs wrapping around your waist, pulling you deeper, her body begging for more. Her moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and guilt. "Oh god, Yes... Your cock feels so good... So big inside me." She cried out; her words are also rhythmed with her climax as her body writhes beneath you, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, her nipples hard against your chest. You continued to pound into her, your hands roaming her body, teasing her nipples and her clit, making her writhe and moan. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming; the taboo of your actions only heightened the pleasure that coursed through both of your veins. The heat between you two was palpable; the air was thick with the scent of desire and the sound of your primal urges. Shida's body tensed, her eyes locking onto yours, her moans growing louder as she reached her climax once more, her inner walls clamping down on you—the sensation enough to push you over the edge. With a guttural moan, you released yourself into her, your orgasm crashing over you both.

In the aftermath, you collapsed onto Shida's heaving chest, your breaths heavy as you both tried to regain your composure. Her tears fell silently, her guilt and pleasure entwined in a messy, raw display of emotion. You could feel her heart racing against your chest; the weight of what had transpired between you was now impossible to ignore. "Thank you, Shida. For... for being mine. For this moment." You whispered, your hand gently caressing her face. As the two of you lay there, entwined in each other's arms, the next steps were unclear, the repercussions of your actions still looming ominously over you both. The bond between you had shifted, and the love you felt for each other was now tainted by the forbidden passion that had consumed you. The weight of the decision you had both made was heavy, but for now, you savored the afterglow, clinging to the moment as if it were the only thing anchoring you in the storm that was surely to come. As you pulled away, your gaze locked with Shida's, and the emotions etched on her face were a testament to the turmoil within her. Your words, however, seemed to bring a flicker of hope to her, a glimmer of happiness in the midst of her guilt.

"I... I don't know what's going to happen." Her voice was small, her eyes filled with uncertainty, and the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her.

You nodded, understanding the weight of the decision you had both made. As you reached for your phone, you couldn't help but steal one last lingering look at Shida—her beauty, the curve of her body, and the way her body still trembled from the passion you'd shared etched in your memory. You dialed your friend, your voice calm as you inquired about their whereabouts.

"Hey, man, have you guys returned? Everything alright?" You listened, your tone friendly, as if nothing had transpired between you and Shida. You then began to make arrangements to meet back at the homestay with your friend, giving yourself time to clean up and perhaps for Shida to come to terms with the events that had just unfolded.

Once your call ended, you turned to Shida, your expression a mix of concern and love. "It's time to get cleaned up. We need to make sure our secret stays between us." You said, your hands gently helping her to her feet, the weight of your actions now firmly planted between the two of you. Shida nodded, her face a mask of conflicting emotions as she stood, her body still humming from the intensity of the moments shared between you. She followed your lead as you cleaned up the mess, your movements calm and efficient. The air between you was heavy with unspoken words, and the emotions from past moments were still lingering. Once everything was in order, you both retreated to your separate rooms, dressing in a manner that belied the carnal activities you'd just engaged in. The tension within the house was palpable, and the atmosphere was charged with the knowledge of the forbidden passion that had been unleashed. As you awaited your friend's return, Shida and you maintained a respectful distance, your eyes occasionally meeting, each glance fraught with a complexity of emotion. The choice had been made, the path chosen, and now the two of you faced the uncertain future that lay ahead.

"Shida, we'll still be sisters, and our family is still as usual, but remember, I will always be here, waiting for your needs. Is that okay with you?". You make an order, which is fair enough but cannot be acceptable to your sister. As your friend returned to the homestay, bringing with him the normalcy of the group dynamics, Shida's eyes met yours once more. In them, you could see the turmoil, the guilt, and the undeniable desire. She swallowed hard, her voice a soft murmur as she replied, "Yes, you'll always be here for me, waiting. But let's try to go back to normal for now. Let's protect our secret, for the sake of our family."

The two of you reverted to your previous roles, the bond between you still strong, albeit now tainted by the passion that had been unleashed. Shida's husband and daughter returned soon after, their laughter and chatter filling the air as the group settled in for the evening. As the night progressed, the weight of your actions continued to hang between you, a secret shared between you two that would forever change the dynamic of your relationship. You both knew that the genie could not be put back into the bottle, but for now, the façade of normalcy prevailed. As the four of you drifted off to sleep, the consequences of your actions and the future they portended lingered in the shadows of your shared consciousness.

[winchesterwild78]

Montana part 2

Master List

Characters: Beau Arlen x Reader, Jenny Hoyt x Reader (cousins)

Warnings: mention of Domestic Violence, drinking, threats, assault, slow burn🔥

Minors DNI 18+

A/N: New series I’m working on. Doesn’t follow Big Sky story but has some characters.

This is a work of fiction. All work is my own, don’t take it.

I edited it quickly and typed with one hand due to surgery recovery. Please over look any errors. Thanks. 😊

🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀

The next morning you woke up early to the sound of Jenny in the kitchen. “Hey Y/N, did I wake you up? I’m sorry.” She smiled. “I’m not used to having anyone here. I’ll try to keep it down from now on. What time did Beau leave last night?” She asked. “Oh um he left about 1 in the morning.” You shifted uneasy. You wanted to tell her about the kiss but you didn’t know how she’d react. She noticed but didn’t say anything.

“Oh okay. Well I have to go in today. You’re welcome to come by if you want later or just relax here. Either is completely fine. Just let me know if you’re coming and I’ll make sure I’m at the station.” Jenny said as she grabbed her keys.

“Okay. Yeah I’ll probably just hang out here and look for a job. I’ll let you know if I’m heading out.” You said as you grabbed a coffee cup. She hugged you goodbye and left.

You stood in the kitchen drinking your coffee when your phone rang. You looked at the caller ID and it was David. You ignored it. He left a voicemail: “Why aren’t you answering my calls. I know you’re not really going through with this divorce. You’re just throwing a tantrum. Come home now and the punishment won’t be as bad.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You knew he didn’t know where Jenny lived but you were still afraid of him. You were afraid he’d find a way to figure it out. If you were being honest, you were afraid of him. When he got really angry the beatings lasted hours. He had almost killed you a few times.

The phone rang again and it was David, again. He left another voicemail: “Look I know you’re with Jenny you stupid bitch. When I find you I’ll take care of both of you. Don’t forget who you belong to Y/N. Just look at your thigh if you need reminding. You’re MINE!” He growled.

Tears pricked your eyes. A few years ago he thought a man at the grocery store was flirting with you. He punched the guy out and when he got you home he carved his name in your thigh. It got infected and when you went to the doctor he made you tell them you did it to yourself.

Tears were streaming down your face and when your phone rang a third time you jumped. It was Jenny. You tried to steady your voice and answered it. “Hello” you said shakily. “Hey, Y/N what’s wrong?! What happened?!” Her voice filled with concern. Beau was at his desk and heard Jenny. He stepped out and walked towards her.

“Okay just come to the station. We’ll figure it out. I promise you’re safe.” Jenny said. Beau approached her “is everything okay Hoyt?” He asked with concern. “No, Y/N’s ex is threatening her and his dumbass left voicemails with the threats.” She said. Beau’s eyes were wide. “Did he hit her, Jenny?” He asked. Jenny shook her head. “She’s ashamed of it. Apparently the bastard broke her nose and ribs before. I didn’t know he was abusive. I have to protect her Beau.” Jenny’s eyes filled with tears. Beau hugged her and assured “we’re going to keep her safe, I promise.”

A few minutes later you walked in. Jenny and Beau led you to his office and shut the door. You looked at Jenny with worry on your face. “It’s okay. He needs to know so he can help keep you safe.” She assured you. You swallowed hard and started at the beginning. How after you two got married it was little comments here and there about your weight, your clothes, if you did something wrong. Then one night he came home drunk from a work party and he smelled of perfume and had lipstick on his neck. He blamed you for his cheating and him losing his temper and hitting you.

You told them the beatings got worse. Beau and Jenny stood there in silence and you detailed story after story of his abuse. You sobbed as you were talking. Beau sat beside you and put his hand on yours. Jenny noticed and moved closer. He quickly pulled his hand back. When you played the voicemails Jenny and Beau’s eyes went wide at the mention of your thigh. After you played the voicemails silence filled the room.

Beau cleared his throat, he was fighting back tears. Jenny walked over and sat down beside you. “Honey, what is on your thigh?” She questioned softly. You looked at her and then Beau. You hung your head down. “He carved his name on my thigh. To mark me as his.” You whispered.

“Holy shit, Y/N. Did you contact the local police department when the abuse happened?” Beau questioned. “I did but it was no use. He had friends in the department and most of it I couldn’t prove.” You hung your head.

“Hoyt go get the forms for her to fill out. We’re going to get a restraining order and document the threats. You put the address of the station down as your mailing address. I’ll keep you safe Y/N. I promise” Beau said as he placed his hand on yours.

Jenny looked at Beau and at you. She saw the spark and was worried. She walked out to grab the forms leaving you and Beau alone.

You looked up at Beau and he smiled. “Thank you Beau. I appreciate you being so kind. I’m sorry I brought this drama to your town and now to you.” He lifted your chin and placed his hand on your cheek “Hey, this is not your fault. I will do whatever I can to keep you safe. I promise you that. He’s not going to hurt you again.”

You both leaned forward and your lips met in a soft kiss. Your heart beat wildly and your lips were on fire. Jenny walked back in with the forms and stopped in her tracks. The two of you pulled apart quickly.

She shot Beau a look and handed you the forms. “Y/N, can you take your phone to Pop so he can make a copy of the voicemails for evidence.” Jenny asked. “Um, yeah I can do that.” You stood and offered a soft smile to Beau who returned it.

Once out of the room Jenny turned towards Beau. “What the hell Beau! I told you to stay away from her and I catch you kissing her?!?” “Hey look I didn’t set out to kiss her it happened. I like her and we both wanted the kiss. Come on Jenny, you know I’d never hurt her. You know me better than that.” He defended himself.

“I think you should back off. She’s not in a good place and I don’t want you taking advantage of that or her” Jenny fired back.

“Damn Hoyt, you really don’t know me then. I’d never take advantage of anyone.” Beau said. “I want you to back off Arlen!” She raised her voice.

Pop heard them almost yelling and so did you. He told you he’d be back. He knocked on the door and they both yelled “What?!?” Pop poked his head in the door and said “Just wanted to let you two know you’re being loud and she can hear you.”

Jenny and Beau sighed loudly. “Fine, but Beau leave her be!” Jenny said as she walked out. Beau let out a frustrated sigh and ran his hand through his hair. Pop looked at him “Sorry Sheriff”. Beau nodded and Pop left closing the door.

You finished the forms and got up. You didn’t see Jenny but you saw Beau in his office. You knocked on the door and you heard him say come in from the other side. When he looked up and saw you he smiled. “Beau, I’m sorry I caused problems with you and Jenny. It wasn’t my intention” you said.

Beau stood up and came around the desk taking your hands. “Hey, it’s not your fault. I knew Jenny didn’t want me to pursue you but I can’t help it. That kiss last night and today was amazing. I know you have a lot going on and I’m willing to wait for you if that’s what you want.” He smiled. You threw your arms around him and hugged him. “Oh Beau, thank you! The kisses were amazing and I want to see where this might go, but I don’t want to drag you into this mess.” You told him.

“I’m in this mess, I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe. I mean it. Maybe we can grab some food sometime. If you want I can cook for you at my place. We can just be friends right now if that’s what you are more comfortable with.”

“Yes! I’d love to let you cook for me. Maybe your place is a better idea for now. At least until Jenny gets more comfortable with the idea of us. When would you want to meet and what should I bring?” You questioned.

“How about tonight and you can bring dessert if you want.” He smiled. “Great! It’s a date, well if you want to call it that. I love Jenny, but I’m an adult. I can make decisions about who I see. If you’re interested in a relationship with me I’d be willing to give it a try.” You smiled a little uneasy. If you were being honest you were worried about his response.

“Yes! I’m willing to try. I’ll see you at my house tonight at 7. Here’s my number and address.” He wrote it down. As he handed it to you his fingers brushed against your hand and you shivered.

You placed a soft kiss on his lips “I’ll see you at 7, Beau.” You walked out of his office and over to Jenny. “Hey. Can we talk?” “Yeah sure, let’s go outside.” You touched her arm “Look Jenny, I know you’re only looking out for me but I’m a big girl and can take care of myself. Beau seems sweet. I’m not planning on jumping in bed with him, but I would like to see if we lead to something. We kissed last night. It wasn’t planned it just happened. I don’t want to cause problems between you two, but I have a right to be happy.” “Y/N you’re right. You deserve to be happy but I just don’t think you should be jumping into a relationship with anyone this soon. You just left your husband for fucks sake. I agree Beau is sweet, but he has a ton of baggage too. I don’t want to see either of you hurt. You can kiss whoever you want, but I just think you and Beau should cool it.”

You knew this was a losing battle and you didn’t want to cause tension between you two. You love Jenny and you need a place to stay so you decide to just keep the thing between you and Beau away from prying eyes. “I hear you Jenny. Thank you for looking out for me. I’m going to go explore today and see if I can find a job. I won’t be home for dinner. Love you Jenny Bean.” “Okay, be careful. Love you too Y/N/N.”

Jenny went back inside and you sent Beau a text.

You: Hey. Jenny is adamant about us not seeing each other. I tried to convince her but it was no use. If you don’t want to continue this I understand. I’d like to, but for now we need to play it smart.

Beau: I understand and I’d like to see where this goes if you’re willing to.

You: I am very interested. I’ll see you at your place tonight at 7.

Beau: Great! See you then, and Y/N I can’t wait to kiss you again.

You blushed and smiled climbing in your car. You drove into town and stopped at the coffee shop Jenny took you to. You went in and ordered a latte to go. The poor woman behind the counter looked frazzled. “Hey, you okay?” You questioned. “Um, oh yeah. My worker called out and we’re already short staffed so I’m here by myself with the cook. I’m working on taking orders, making coffee and being the hostess and waitress while he cooks. Sorry honey. I’m just a bit overwhelmed. I’ll have your coffee in a minute.” She hurried past you.

You walked over to her as she was cleaning a table. “Do y’all need any help? Like are y’all hiring?” “Yes we are. We’re in need of someone who can do it all. That’s hard to find though. Especially in a small town like this.” “Well for what it’s worth I was a waitress through college and I worked at a coffee shop. I’m actually looking for a job.” You told her.

“Really? When could you start? I could use help and we could do a trial basis if you’re okay with that. If we both think it’s a good fit the job is yours. By the way, I’m the owner Suzan.” she told you. “I could start right now, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you Ms Suzan” you said grabbing an apron. “Oh honey you’re an angel. Take this to that table while I grab the food for the other table.” She said handing you a tray.

You walked over and greeted the couple at the table handing them their order. “Holler if you need anything” you walked away. As the day wore on you started to feel more comfortable with the system, the menu and the customers. It was like riding a bike.

By the time the last customer was served you were exhausted and excited. “Well honey, looks like you survived. I hope you liked working here cause I’d like to offer you a job if you’ll take it.” “Oh yes! I’d love to work here. I can be back tomorrow morning early” you told her. “Great. See you at 5:30. We start early I hope that’s okay. Oh and here are your tips from the day.” She handed you a wad of cash. “Oh no, I couldn’t. I just wanted to help out today.”

“Nonsense, you worked today these are your tips and you’re going to be paid for today too.” She pushed the money in your pocket. “Well thank you. See you tomorrow.” You walked to your car.

Once inside you sent Beau a text.

You: I got a job today. Can’t wait to talk to you about it over dinner if we’re still on.

Beau: Absolutely! I’m just about finished cooking if you want to come over now. I can’t wait to hear all about it.

You smiled and told him you were on your way. As you backed out of the parking spot your tire popped. You put the car in park and got out to check it. It looked like it had been sliced. You went to the trunk to get the spare and noticed the back tire was slashed too. You looked around and swallowed hard. Who would do this. You thought.

Grabbing your phone you called Beau. “Hey, I was just thinking about you. Are you almost here” he asked. “Beau. Something’s wrong my tires were slashed. I don’t know who…the line went dead.

Beau panicked. He tried to call you back but your phone went to voicemail. He called Jenny “hey Arlen what’s up” she asked. “Jenny, Y/N called me and said her tires had been slashed. Then the phone went dead. I have no idea where she is. Do you know where she got a job today” panicked in his voice. “No. I didn’t know she got one. I’m heading to town. I’ll call Pop and have him out too. She’s a tough girl. I’m sure she’s fine” Jenny said as she hung up.

Beau thought to himself “I sure hope so.” About 10 minutes later Beau, Jenny and Pop were all searching Main Street for you. Beau was the first to see your car. It was dark but as he approached he saw the tires and your door opened. Then he froze. Lying on the ground was you. You weren’t moving and your phone still in your hand.

“Y/N!” He and Jenny both ran to your side and she grabbed you. Pop called an ambulance. You were groggy and winced in pain. Something had hit your head. “Oh my god Y/N. What happened” Jenny asked. “I don’t know. One minute I was talking to Beau and then wham. Something hit my head. I don’t know what happened.” You told her as tears pricked your eyes.

The paramedics came and checked you out. They said you were okay but had a concussion and needed to take it easy. Jenny wanted you to go to the hospital but you refused. She wanted to drive you home but you told her you needed to talk to Beau first. Jenny was irritated but she didn’t want to argue.

You walked over to Beau who was keeping his distance. “Beau. I’m so sorry I messed up our plans. You had cooked and I spent all day looking forward to it.” Tears fell from your eyes. He wrapped his arms around you and wiped the tears away. “Shhh it’s okay. This isn’t your fault. I can heat it up for lunch tomorrow. I’m just glad you’re safe. I was worried.” He kissed your forehead.

You smiled at him and looked over at Jenny who pretended not to be watching. You smiled. “Guess I better go. Maybe we can do dinner soon. I really was looking forward to it. I have to work tomorrow at 5:30 so I need some sleep.” You told him. “Oh so you’re working with Ms Suzan. She’s great. Maybe I’ll have to start getting my coffee out instead of at the station.” He chuckled. “Well I look forward to seeing you Sheriff.” You winked.

You hugged him and walked over to Jenny. Throwing an arm around her you said “come on. Let’s go home”. She nodded and everyone said good night.

Once home you crawled into bed after a hot shower. Before you fell asleep your phone went off.

Beau: I hope you sleep well tonight. I’ll see you in the morning. I’m driving you to work. No arguing.

You: Yes Sheriff. I will see you tomorrow morning. Good night. ☺️

Beau: Good night beautiful.

You smiled and put your phone on silent, then you laid down. Since your phone was on silent you didn’t see the text that came in.

Unknown: That was just a taste of what’s to come if you don’t drop this divorce. Don’t make me come back. David has given me permission to bring you back by any means necessary.

Tags: @nescaveckdaily @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles @chriszgirl92 @suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 @manicjk

[thro-ne]

My mum has been calling me skinny a lot. Asking me if I've lost weight. Saying I have lost weight because the pants that I was wearing were baggier on me. (I hadn't worn them in a while because they were from my office job that I left 2 years ago).

I'm scared because when she found out about my ed years ago, it was awful. I was 13 I think, maybe 14. I left home at 15 and didn't come back until I was 22.

I was in "recovery" for maybe 2 or 3 years? I didn't ever stop thinking about calories or what I was putting into my body, I just didn't weigh myself ever. That was basically the extent of my recovery. I always thought about what I was consuming but often I would come up with an excuse and eat or drink anyway. I still had very dark days but overall I was fine.

I don't know when I started to relapse or if I am relapsing right now. Maybe I'm just pretending. I don't know what's so romantic about eds, or why I want mine back. I'm not doing as good of a job as I did when I was younger. I think it's harder now because I like to drink.

I've been switching between dieting and OMADing and counting calories and exercising and intermittent fasting for a couple of years now. Maybe I was relapsing when I started obsessing over myself again. I still don't feel like I'm relapsing. I think maybe I'm just being impatient. The addiction took time to settle in before. Maybe I was more impressionable because I was young.

I don't want to die or be sick. I just feel like I've been chasing an image of myself for 10 years and I'm tired of waiting. I'm happy to be back in the community because it's helping. I think maybe now that I'm an adult, I'll be able to have more control over how far I go.

Having people around me notice is scary though. Having all my teenage secrets spilled to my parents was a traumatic experience, especially after I did not grow up in a loving home. The aftermath was.. not helpful.

This feels like going back in time. I stopped cutting myself because I started dating and growing up. People didn't see those parts of my skin when I was young, and then when I got boyfriends they did. It's harder to hide now.

I think about it a lot. I wish I could just do it without my boyfriend making a big deal of it. I know he would. It's because we love each other a lot and he cares. I just wish I could do it anyway.

I hate having people watch me closely. A lot of my bad habits I've stepped out of because I don't want people to find out and try to get me help.

I'm scared I don't need help.

I'm scared that I'm healed and clawing for the only parts of me that I understand. It's a horrible, empty feeling. Even emptier than screaming and crying and starving and cutting.

I feel like a shell of who I am and I'm trying to find something I recognize.

Maybe I'm not healed. Maybe I never will be

[seiueina]

IN THIS TOGETHER | ITOSHI RIN*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ; 694wc

episode 2: “a bribe to take medicine.”

synopsis: jiro and rin are both sick, struggling to take of each other so wifey y/N must conquer their sickness!

warnings: family life + pro player au + fluff + “in sickness and in health”

“Tsk tsk, I told you two that you should shower right after you get home!” y/N lectured the two boys laying on the couch, both snuggling against a warm blanket you put through the dryer a few minutes ago.

“Momma don’t be mad at Papa!” Jiro get’s up and looks at you with big doe eyes, as you sit down next to the two. “I am not! I could never be mad at Daddy!” You say before handing over a measuring cup filled with berry-flavored cold medicine. “Momma I don’t like- taking dis!” Jiro denied the medicine and you sighed. “I promise, I’ll let you take a sip of water. Baby you need to take medicine so your cold goes away!” “No!” Jiro screams before jumping off the couch and running into the hallways of your apartment.

You sigh and look over to your sleepy husband who seems to be enjoying his son running away from you. “Go get your son.” You say sternly, and quickly his laugh faded and his face adorned a pout. “But Mommy, I am sick and don’t feel well..” He says in between sniffles and you let out a breather breath. Getting up from the couch you swiftly catch Jiro and carry his squirming body.

“C’mere baby. I promise I’ll let you take a sip of Coca-Cola if you do!” At this point, you’re trying anything to have your son take the medicine. The medicine that’s gonna be the only thing to make him feel better. He gives in.

Jiro is in fact a momma’s boy and twin. Twin meaning in personality and interests. Looks wise, Jiro looks exactly like Rin, a twin born way later if you must. The bottom lashes that adorned your husbands' eyes passed onto Jiros, which you secretly thanked for his strong genes to pull through.

“Good job baby!” You say as he swallows the medicine in full, choking on the flavor but the medicine flavor was soon washed down by the flavor of Coca-Cola. You carry Jiro back onto the couch, laying him down on the opposite of Rin, tucking him in with a Paw Patrol blanket that Rin’s parents gifted him for his birthday.

“Get some sleep okay?” You whisper as you kiss Jiro’s forehead, and ran your finger down his nose bridge a few times until you start to hear slight snores from him. Your attention is brought to your husband when his face still adorns that stupid puppy dog look on his face.

“I am waiting for my turn.” He says seriously until he blurts out a big sneeze. You quickly bring the tissue box over to him and he blows his nose. “I gave you antibiotics before…I would be overdosing you!” You say, running your fingers through his hair, feeling the heat from his forehead. “I’ll be right back.” You say before running to your bathroom to get a cold washcloth and then proceeding to put it on his forehead. Letting him have some sort of relief.

“Get better soon okay? It hurts my heart seeing the two of you sick together!” You say before planting a kiss on his cheek..which resulted in Rin puckering his lips. “If I get sick, it’s your fault!” You say before planting your lips onto his, you then started to do the same motion as you did for Jiro…finger running down his nose bridge as you witnessed another man fall asleep to your touch.

“Get better soon handsomes~”

You get up from the ground to turn the living room light off, you went into your office and online order some groceries that will be able to use in a family recipe, used when you were sick and it would help you to a speedy recovery.

As you waited for the delivery, you worked on office work and started working on a physics question that you were still yet to complete for work. Why must punish women in STEM? You think as you try your best to solve until you had a series of sneezes.

You look out of your office to see your two boys sleeping peacefully, until another achoo leaves your body…

© satoberrie

[bitchyfoxymama]

Angel - Pietro Maximoff x F!Powered!Reader

Warnings: fix it fic where Pietro doesn't die at the end of Age of Ultron! Medical jargon is probably incorrect.

A/n: Anyway this is for a friend of mine who asked where Wanda's brother's fics were and why I haven't written any. Heres to you 🫡

All grammatical errors are my own bc I don't have beta readers.

...

“Male, Caucasian, approximately 22-24 years of age, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, abdomen and arms. His breathing is labored and blood pressure low.” One of my nurses says as we wheel this unknown man into the O.R.

“Alright! We need gauze, bowls and scalpels and blood! GO! GO! GO!” I yell at my team trying to save this young man’s life. I may be only 20 and one of the youngest surgeons in the world but my team knows I care about them and only yell when it’s something crucial.

“Here ma’am, everything you need.” Maria, my head nurse tells me while I walk into the room gloved and masked.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, we are going to save this man’s life.” I say looking around the sterile room.

*6 hours later*

“Alright we did it, great job guys. Move him over to an empty recovery room and let them know their friend is fine.” I say walking out. I go and stand near the coffee machine and buy myself a cup.

“So Doc, how's the kid?” I look up and see an old friend.

“Well, Stark, how many times have I told you not to call me Doc? Reminds me of Bugs Bunny, and he’s doing fine. We managed to save him, just barely. He lost a lot of blood, had multiple breaks, what the hell were you guys fighting?!”

“Uh robots, and besides if you had come along with us like I keep suggesting and using those wonderful powers you have-“ I cut him off before he can even finish his thought.

“Stark I’ve told you before, I’m not properly trained for combat, I’m just a doctor, and I’ll tell you what I’ll go and heal all his wounds right now, that way you’ll have him back.” I say sipping the black hot liquid.

“And I told you (y/n) there’s more out there than just shitty coffee and white walls. Listen I'll pitch the idea to Fury to have you move to the compound and become an avenger, you could help a whole lot more people if you agreed” He says as he walks back down the hallway and out the door.

I threw the cup of coffee away and walked into Pietro’s room. I learned of his name after the operation. He honestly looks very peaceful just lying there sleeping. I go and close the blinds and shut and lock the door. I don't need anyone not authorized to know about my powers to come stumbling in the room.

I take off my glove and remove his blanket from his chest; I take a deep breath and lay my hands on his chest. A white light filling up the room along with the slight hum of the machines connected to him.

When I finish he begins to slowly open his eyes. “Is that an Angel I see? A beautiful angel?”

I blush slightly “No Mr. Maximoff, I can assure you that I am no Angel. I am your Doctor; my name is (y/n) (l/n).”

“So I do have an angel in front of me because only an angel would have such a beautiful name as that.” He said smiling.

“Well it’s good to see you are getting back to normal brother” a female voice came from the door.

“Well that is my que to go, I’ll be checking back on you tomorrow and if everything looks good, you should be free to go within the next few days” I say sliding out of the door.

“She seems nice” I hear his sister say as I walk back to my office. Wait, how’d she unlock the door? Did she see me use my powers? All these questions went on swimming through my head.

******

“Good morning Mr. Maximoff, how are you feeling?” I asked while walking into his hospital room, looking at his medical charts “are you eating alright?”

“Good, I've gotten my strength back and maybe that means my speed came back?” he says, getting up in his bed. 

“Wow there mr maximoff you've only just started healing and you only recently had surgery. It might take some time for your speed to get back.” I say while gently lying him back down on the bed.

“Alright but promise me once we're out of here and I'm no longer your patient we will hang out and be friends yes?” he says while smiling the dorkiest of smiles I've ever seen.

“Yes, we are already friends but when you get released we can hang out” I say while grabbing my clipboard and walking back out of the room and closing the door. I lean against the wall outside and take a deep breath, wow i can't be falling for my patient but he wont be my patient next week, no next week he’ll be my teammate. 

Just before walking into his room this morning I had gotten a call from Stark informing me I would become an official member of the team, healing them whenever necessary as well as healing those injured during missions. 

This will surely be a fun experience especially when I have a handsome man like Pietro on my team. 

[thora-sniper]

Crosscember day 7

+ bonus art 🩸

The recovery wasn't easy. Crosshair spent in hospital two weeks and two others at home every two days visiting by the doctor to make some other procedures. It was the saddest time, he almost felt him abandoned. Yes, his captain sent him messages sometimes, colleges in chat sympathizing him, but it was only routine expression of appreciation.

He tried to ask questions about those who was in this incident with him. He couldn't admit outright that he was very worried about the lieutenant Vidjany and how did it affect her, because he has some reputation, and she was so nice even if she screwed up a little bit.

His hospitalization is over just before that days of a year when nobody wants to work but spend days and money preparing to holidays. Crosshair has his duties but without active involvement, only paper work. But he could look through all documentation about others and when he find out that lieutenant Vidjany almost hadn't a day of her duty without any accident he became very worried about her. She try to fix that situation, he knew this type of action because that's how he may act himself.

One day Crosshair even try to meet her in the office but all that day she was assisting to captain with city department inspection and haven't had any free minute. They meet with eyes for a moment, but it wasn't enough to understand her filings. Before other day.

It was 19th of December, Crosshair still sorting documents. It wasn't her duty day, but Thora suddenly appears in the hall with some boxes of snacks. She put them on the tee table, made some talks with co-workers and slowly gliding to his desk. Some minutes later she stood right here in front of him.

Crosshair wasn't in good mood, he wasn't in good form too. The therapy make him little sick, and he has headaches and stomach disorder this days. But she was so welcome, even if he saw the worry on her face, it wasn't something routine, she really feel sorry about him.

-Hi, I'm not so good college sometimes, - started Thora, trying to find words. - I have to make this earlier, even all this inspections and other things arn't excuse me, because it may took only five minutes to ask you about your health. You have every right to send me along with my apologies now.

She stopped talking and Crosshair saw like he hands clenched into fists. She still think that's all that happens that day was her fault.

He stood up. Put papers on the desk. Walked around it. And silently looked at her. The signs of fatigue on the face made her older, and he always think that eating himself from the inside was his privilege.

-Don't blame yourself, - said Crosshair. - It's working situation and we can't prevent everything. I knew risks, it's a job and you doing your part as well as you could. Even they trying to press you, I don't hold anything about you.

-Thanks, - she sighed.

She froze for a moment, then looked around and frowned, as if she was nervous about the surroundings and the bustle in the office.

-Anything else? - he asked, trying to help.

-Yeah, can we get out for a minute, to the landing on the side stairs.

This was something new for him. Nobody never ever ask him about this. He followed her trying to figure out what's on her mind.

-Here, - she gave him a box after rummaging in the bag. - This dessert can be eaten in your condition. It's my birthday so... ughh ... I'm bad at all this when it's not something official.

And indeed, in a working environment, surrounded by the commission, fulfilling her obligations, she found words exactly where they were needed most. Now she had to speak for herself, and she was confused.

Crosshair opened the box and seeing some marshmallow, and panacota. And one thing was mostly remarkable, another box with chocolate orange, one of his favorites this season, with pinned note: "Eat when you really fills better =)". When he close it, she already disappeared.

He wanted to say her something else, but as it was hard for her it was new for him. He felt that she shared more then tasty food, she knew about his health may be even she knew more about himself. And this sudden need for privacy...

... He felt better over the next two days, so he agreed to come to the New Year's ball. The chocolate orange was still in the drawer of the desk.

[toddlertimess]

Hi Friends,

I finally was able to log into Tumblr on the computer. Typing up updates, thoughts, etc is so daunting on mobile. I'm adding a keep reading because I don't know how long this post is going to be. Updates, present mindset, and future plans ahead.

My life feels so uncertain right now. It low-key fell apart about a month ago and I've been slowly trying to pick up the pieces. I'm trying to build the life I've always wanted, dreamt of, and knew was possible.

In picking up the pieces, I've been doing a lot of self-work, self-discovery and healing. It hasn't always been beautiful. There have been so many tears, so many truths uncovered, so many realizations to face head on. But it was a necessary transformation, one I will be on for a lifetime.

My mindset has completely shifted though. I've become more in touch with my intuition, my femininity, and the universe as a whole. In turn, the universe has been talking back, blessing me with gifts and transforming my mindset and ultimately, my life into something spectacular.

Something that has constantly been on my mind, though, is my career path moving forward. I feel like in the past I have so easily conformed to societal ideals of what a career should be. Work in an office, in corporate, work that 9-5, give everything you have to the man, climb the ladder, and in time, you will be running the company. L. OH. FUCKING. L. Guess what I've realized? It's not true. They fed us a lie. And while that might be the case for some people, the opposite is true for most of us. We get bogged down by this rat race, working dead-ends jobs, listening to a tyrannical boss, and ultimately leading to unhappiness. That is not my journey. I am destined for something greater.

Which brings me to my next point. While I'm sitting still, while I'm sitting in the uncomfortable about not quite knowing what I want to do career-wise, or to make an income, it has always been in the back of my mind. What is my passion? What makes me happy? How can I make money doing this? How can I capitalize on this? And I don't think I've found my calling yet. I can't say for certain what my direction is as far as career and that's ok, it can be ever-changing. You don't have to commit to one career for your whole life.

But holy fuck. How cool would it be to learn, and research, and grow, and get certifications, and HELP PEOPLE who are experiencing what I am, and what I have, experienced. I'm talking narcissistic abuse and coercive coparenting. As I am trying to learn about myself and do some growing and healing, I've learned that there isn't a whole lot of information out there about these two topics. Narcissism? Absolutely. You can google and find 10 million articles about narcissism. But how many of them talk about getting out of the narcissistic cycle? The kind of recovery and healing you need to do following the narcissistic abusive cycle? What that even is? And how you can still be in that abuse cycle even after you've left the relationship? That's the key. That's the part. If you do not have complete cut-off from the narcissist, and maybe you're in a place where you cannot completely cut them off, then you may still be in that cycle of abuse. Talk about a mind fuck.

Which leads me to coercive coparenting. I think I've read maybe 3 articles regarding this because there is not a lot of information and research out there. Essentially coercive coparenting is when your coparent uses coercive and manipulative measures to maintain control on your life, your child's life, and ultimately how you parent. To me, it is such a disgusting, low level form of abuse and I've been in the cycle for 10 years. I have allowed myself and my life to be controlled and manipulated by a narcissist even when I thought I was out of the narcissist's trap. But the catch is!?!?!?! When I use this term with other people - lawyers, therapists, etc. - they don't understand it and they don't categorize it as abuse. EVEN THOUGH IT FUCKING IS!

So I don't know where I'm going to land. I don't know what career I'm going to have. I don't know what my purpose is in life. But maybe I'm onto something here with the narcissistic abuse and coercive coparenting. What can I do to help other people in my situation? What can I do to help free them from the trap that I was lodged in before they spend 10+ years of their life in this cycle like I did? Maybe that's my calling.

If you made it this far, thank you. Thank you for caring to read the words I've written. Thank you for spending some of your time on my little life. And thank you for the connection this community has provided me over the years. The universe is magical, isn't it?

[violetmuses]

Part 2 of a request! - Part I ❤️‍🩹

@thomasrunner @nelo0wesker 🏷

Despite hiding around the world for quite a while, criminal Armando Aretas finally returned to Miami and would learn this brand-new chapter of life. 

To cut his grounded time in prison, Aretas would even continue working through the Miami Police Department and officially joined AMMO's squad.

No more running.

______

Staying with Detective Mike Lowrey until further notice, Armando pulled together and headed down for breakfast, not rushing to the precinct. 

“Morning, man.” Mike still wanted to greet Aretas without pushing boundaries. Their estranged relationship proved cordial at best  now. 

“What's up?” Armando offered slightly accented English before sitting down at the kitchen table. 

“Good morning, Armando.” Mike's wife Christine, a physical therapist, smiled. 

“Hey.” Armando nodded, still not comfortable enough to grin back. 

Christine also helped Mike heal throughout the shooting recovery that took place years ago. 

“Listen, we'll eat first and just get outta here, all right?” Mike spoke up. “Don't wanna be late.” 

“Kay. Who made the coffee, though?” Aretas glanced toward Mike and Christine for a second. 

“Me.” Mike joyfully confirmed. Even Christine laughed while Armando finished the meal. 

*****

“Don't worry about Marcus. I got you.” Mike almost whispered near Armando after driving the classic Porsche to work. 

Before Lowrey and Aretas could even walk inside, one voice called out. 

“Aw, Mike! Why didn't you tell me?” Sniffing through dramatic tears, Mike's longtime partner and best friend Marcus Burnett reached the curb. 

“Please stop crying, Marcus.” Mike shook his head while exiting that car. 

Embarrassed, Armando nearly shrunk in the passenger seat to hide and even veiled further by wearing Mike's sunglasses. 

“Armando dressed like you, too.” Marcus continued anyway. “Look at the gun holsters placed on his back, Mike.” 

“Stop.” Mike repeated himself while entering the precinct with Aretas and Burnett. 

_______

To make this return even more unsettling, Armando noticed that fellow law enforcement officials and other staff members wouldn't talk. 

The building neatly turned silent when everyone recognized Aretas. 

Even AMMO weapons expert Kelly and tech genius Dorn looked elsewhere. 

“What the hell’s wrong with everybody?” Marcus Burnett spoke up this time. 

“Marcus….” Mike Lowrey warns his best friend for the umpteenth occasion. 

“No, Mike. Listen, y'all. Stop tripping for five minutes, all right?” Marcus quickly defended Armando. “Focus on the job because Armando's not leaving anytime soon. You can't give up normal things just because he showed up either. He's part of our team like everybody else.”

Voices responded in all directions until Captain Rita Secada entered the precinct and headed toward that briefing room. Everyone else trailed.

_______

“We'll need all hands on deck regarding this new assignment.” Rita explained details while standing behind this podium. “Look for the witness described on screen.” 

Once Rita offered this large-scale viewpoint of that witness, Armando, Mike, and Marcus nearly froze. 

 You centered this case. 

*****

Shortly after that briefing concluded, everyone braced themselves for your arrival. Different officers would bring you to the police station. 

“Who does she want in there?” Armando offered the important point over your questioning. 

“Marcus and I have a much better chance of talking to her, man. I'm sorry.” Mike would never forget how you “woke up” after nearly drowning that day. 

“You're right. I'll wait.” Aretas nodded and walked toward his desk for the day. 

Mike and Marcus know exactly what happens next. Aretas could outright trigger your escape from this station. 

_______

“I know that you're scared right now, but we won't hurt you.” Mike repeated his vow from the wilderness as you sat in this horribly gray room. 

“He was looking for me.” You speak with Detective Mike Lowrey, otherwise there's no chance that you'll ground this case for yourself. 

“Who?” Mike sits up. 

“McGrath.” You reveal. 

“James McGrath is dead.” Mike answered. “We shut down his operation recently.” 

“I know. McGarth took me hostage right before Captain Howard was framed.” You exposed brand-new information. 

Mike's heart dropped and Marcus stood flabbergasted in the corner. 

“Hostage…” Mike Lowrey whispered. 

“Yes.” Your statement confirms the truth with each passing moment. 

Your fear. Running away from strangers. Not trusting anyone. On and on. 

“What do you need?” Mike asked, gently trying to ease the situation. 

“There's nothing else to do because McGarth is already dead at this point.” You shake your head, looking down. “Can I ask you something though, Detective?”

“Of course.” Mike locked eye contact with you for a reason and even stepped closer. 

“What happened to that criminal?” You bring up the question that plagued thoughts ever since you run in those woods. 

Shit! Mike silently acknowledged that you remembered Armando. 

“It's a long story…” Mike struggled to answer your question. 

“Is he still on the run?” You whispered over rumors from different places. 

“No.” Mike began. “The department will give Armando another chance, but you're not in danger. I promise.” 

“Armando?” You grounded the criminal's name this time. “Why…” 

You trailed off because Detective Lowrey spoke up again. 

“He's my son…” Mike cleared his throat and handed reality straight toward you. 

“Your son?” You can't believe how invisible cobwebs  tangled this place. 

One of the most well-known professionals in Miami fathered someone who lurked with darkness. 

“We didn't bring him for questions with you, but his name is Armando Aretas.” Mike continued speaking. 

Realization slapped you in the face! 

“Armando Aretas, the drug dealer?!” You shouted, almost leaving this chair. Even your voice resounded. 

“I knew she would react, Mike.” Marcus grumbled from the corner. 

“Shut up the fuck and help me!” Mike tried catching up with you, but failed. 

Within  seconds, you kicked that door open and found one of the back exits, immediately heading outside.  

“Shit!” Marcus finally realized the mistake of arguing. 

“I need backup! The witness has escaped our building. All units: respond to the situation immediately!” Demanding communication, Mike ran down this street. 

“She's not a fucking dog, Mike! What the hell are you doing?” Marcus shouted back and defended your reaction. 

Ignoring Marcus, Mike continued racing down while members of the AMMO squad emerged. 

“Armando, stay here!” Marcus noted Aretas over you just in time. “She escaped the building.” 

“No!” Armando refused to hide once more because anything could happen near you. Even sirens began wailing in the distance. “If she's mad, I'll deal with it.” 

On instinct, Armando races outside, leaving Marcus in the dirt. 

_______

“Nobody's safe!” You glance over your shoulder while bolting and realize that officers have caught up with you. “Get Aretas out of the damn building or I'm not talking again.”

“Armando won't hurt you.” Mike acknowledges you first. 

“Prove it, Mike!” You rasped, pissed off and worried at the same time. 

Moments later, Armando emerged and stepped toward you in broad daylight, not holding weapons. 

“Just tell us what happened.” Armando wouldn't stop looking at you. 

Even Mike and Marcus turned silent, waiting for the next plan here. 

“Stand down.” You took charge for once. “I can't explain everything in public.” 

Deal. Armando thought. 

******

Police tape riddled the scene while you joined Mike Lowrey's Porsche. 

While you became Mike's passenger instead, Armando crammed the back seat to dodge your glare. 

“My wife knows what happened.” Mike grounded this plan to settle everything in his home. 

“Thanks.” You nodded when adrenaline stopped for good. 

******

Parking at the house, Mike greeted Christine and stepped back, letting everyone enter. 

Once Mike locked doors and food set around this table, questioning resumes without Marcus Burnett. 

“What happened just before you were kidnapped?” Mike asked. 

“It was my birthday that night.” You remembered. “Right as I'm leaving the club, McGarth cornered me.” 

“South Beach.” Mike shook his head, already painting thoughts and images. 

“Scars?” Armando refuses to eat anything until you finish the story. 

“No physical assault. McGrath didn't hurt me, but his goons patrolled.” You don't express more. 

“How long were you there?” Armando nearly whispered. 

“I don't even know.” You almost struggled. “No lights in the room.” 

“How did you escape?” Aretas pulled this big-time question to score that previous tragedy in the water. 

“Tricked someone to help me with restraints.” You answered. “By the time McGarth hijacked your federal transport, I tried swimming away.” 

Flashbacks pulled right away and Armando's heart shattered. 

Aretas realized that McGarth controlled your every move until this point and reaching that unknown water should've marked freedom. 

You would rather die just to escape hell.

[copperbadge]

Radio Free Monday

Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!

Just a note because I've had some inquiries lately -- it's always fine to include more than one way to give when submitting an item for RFM! It's always best to have a crowdfund page of some kind (gofundme, fundly, etc) and only list a direct payment processor like paypal or venmo as a secondary, but including multiple payment methods is okay, as long as you don't mind your paypal/venmo/etc being public.

Ways to Give:

hi-this-is-ali-rae is getting top surgery, scheduled for January; they're preparing for the surgery and the healing after, and raising funds to cover out-of-pocket costs and make their recovery as comfortable as possible. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.

Anon linked to The Big Gay Market, a LGBTQ+ owned-and-operated pop up maker's market in Madison, Wisconsin, which has been in operation for nearly a year. They're looking to move into a bigger venue after receiving fantastic community support, and are crowdfunding via Kiva loan for a down-payment to reserve the space for their next market. (When you support organizations and people via Kiva it's a no-interest loan from you, so the money eventually comes back to the lender.) You can read more and contribute to the loan fund here.

nehirose's cat Winston had to go to the emergency vet last night for pyometra; they were able to get antibiotics and fluids, but she's fundraising for the visit fees and follow-up and spay with a non-emergency vet, which is a struggle with rent looming this week. You can read more and support the fundraiser here, read more and reblog here, or give via paypal here.

News to Know:

Anon wanted to remind folks that the US government is offering another round of free COVID tests; you can order four tests per household, and if you didn't order tests in September during the previous round, you can order eight per household. You can order tests via the post office or the COVID.gov website.

Recurring Needs:

Anon linked to a fundraiser for Alchemia and Bugland, who have urgent financial needs after the loss of their home, and are also looking for media contacts who would be interested in covering their story, or advocacy and legal support in Illinois, particularly support for people with disabilities, autism, blindness, and/or who are LGBTQ+. You can read more at Dreamwidth here and support the fundraiser at GoFundMe here.

gwydion's very elderly car broke down in late October; the repair, to a cooling hose, has cheap parts but expensive labor, and ate most of zir budget for the month. Ze can't do without a car, being disabled, but can't afford to replace it either; ze's raising $280 to help cover bills and the repair. You can give via PayPal here.

gwydion linked to a fundraiser for Squirrel, a good friend who has recently lost his job and needs to raise about $800 to cover bills and food; Squirrel has had a lot of interviews and believes he will have an offer but won't start work until December. You can give via paypal here.

gwydion linked to a fundraiser for a friend, whose dog Rosie needs medical care, dental work, and special food; you can read more and give here at gofundme.

mid-nighttiger linked to a fundraiser for a friend, Katherine, a cosplayer (501st and Rebel Legion, among others) who was in a serious car accident and has had a gofundme set up for her medical expenses; you can read more and reblog Mid-Nighttiger's post here or support the fundraiser here.

rilee16 is raising funds to cover utilities after having to use bill money to cover rent and late fees; Rilee also needs to be able to pay for medication. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.

And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form. If you're new to fundraising, you may want to check out my guide to fundraising here.

[tomorrowusa]

Vice President Harris visited The View this week. The segment above is where the topic of Trump's misinformation about hurricanes and disaster response comes up.

Trump is an incessant liar and unfortunately that has been largely normalized in the media. But now his malignant lies have the potential to harm great numbers of people whose lives have already been turned upside down.

And Trump has a long history of spewing bullshit about disasters – the more unscientific and reality-free, the better.

Trump has long peddled misinformation in natural disaster responses

Donald Trump falsely claimed as president that “cleaning” forests would prevent California wildfires. He showed Americans a doctored hurricane map, altered with a Sharpie to bolster an inaccurate tweet about the storm’s path. He said the calculated death toll of Hurricane Maria had been inflated, which was untrue. And in recent days, he has incorrectly said that the Biden administration can’t adequately respond to Hurricane Helene because it used its disaster funds for migrants. In office and now as a candidate, Trump has repeatedly responded to natural disasters by peddling misinformation that can obscure the reality on the ground. [ ... ] Alex Conant, a Republican strategist who worked in the Bush White House during Katrina, recalled a previous era when natural disasters weren’t as politicized — noting, for example, that New Jersey Republican Gov. Chris Christie warmly greeted President Barack Obama after Superstorm Sandy in 2o12. “Historically, hurricanes are a time where politicians like to put partisanship aside and show they’re focused on the greater good,” he said. “Trump does not have that instinct at all and he’s so controversial that Democrats don’t have that instinct with him either.” Over the years, Trump also has a record of taking steps that disaster victims have perceived as insensitive, such as tossing paper towels out to a crowd of Puerto Ricans or claiming that California firefighters weren’t properly battling wildfires. When it comes to Helene’s aftermath, federal responders face logistical and terrain challenges, with damage spread across six states and a still-mounting death toll of at least 230. Some residents in more remote areas have said assistance was slow. And while FEMA has enough money for the immediate response, the agency needs more funding from lawmakers for long-term recovery efforts. [ ... ] Tim Frazier, faculty director of the emergency and disaster management program at Georgetown University, said getting factual information to both people affected by disasters and those responding to them is a top priority in a high-stakes situation — something that can be hindered by politicization. “Getting politics out of disasters and emergency management is really critical,” Frazier said. “It’s dangerous, it doesn’t help, and it certainly makes the job of our disaster responders, our first responders, more difficult.” [ ... ] In 2017, the Trump administration moved faster to help hurricane victims in Texas than in Puerto Rico, a Politico investigation found. In 2018, Trump reportedly balked at approving disaster aid for blue California until he was told that Republican-leaning areas were affected. In 2020, when Michigan was enduring disastrous flooding, Trump threatened to withhold funding in the state because he was displeased with officials’ plan to send out absentee voting applications. His administration withheld $20 billion in disaster recovery funds for Puerto Rico and blocked a federal investigation into why those funds had not been released, the Department of Housing and Urban Development’s inspector general found. Trump has for years mischaracterized wildfires, claiming that California wasn’t using enough water to fight fires and incorrectly blaming forest management for wildfires. He has suggested fires could be prevented by raking forest floors, cast doubt on climate change science in one 2020 meeting with state officials, and suggested that California should wet its forests. All are claims that scientists say show a misunderstanding of how fires spread and are fought.

In other words, Trump is a total idiot. Ask people who are still undecided or wavering if they would really want a doofus like Trump leading disaster response efforts if a major catastrophe hit their area.

You know that somebody is detached from reality if he tries to change the path of a hurricane with a Sharpie.

In 2019, Trump incorrectly warned Americans that Alabama was in the path of Hurricane Dorian — then, in a White House video, displayed a doctored hurricane map that had been altered with a marker to make the hurricane look like it was indeed headed to the state, though no threat to Alabama existed. Trump doubled down on the claim in the following days on Twitter, forcing the National Weather Service to broadcast that Alabama would not be hit. The White House was later found by the Commerce Department inspector general to have pressured the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration to back Trump’s erroneous claims and disavow Weather Service meteorologists.