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#them's the thoughts this fine thursday morning
writersdrug · 9 days
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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2
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Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep
A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!
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Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.
here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.
Simon.
You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.
Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!
Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?
See you soon!
You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.
So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.
Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.
she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.
Simon.
You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.
You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.
Understood. Thanks again!
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"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.
You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.
You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?
"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."
You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.
"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."
You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"
Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"
"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.
He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."
You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.
He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.
But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.
"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."
"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...
He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.
You faltered. "Sorry...?"
"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"
You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.
"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.
He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.
"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.
"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.
"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"
He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."
Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.
"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.
Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.
He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.
But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?
He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-
Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.
Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."
He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.
He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.
Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.
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winterssecrett · 4 months
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MIDNIGHT TALKS | THEODORE NOTT
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ღ 02:00 a.m and the group of snakes was still on the astronomy tower, a place they had started to love when they discovered that professors and prefects never went to “guard” or check for students out of bed. Sleep was something hard to find with how dark and scary things had gotten in school and around the world, so their best option was to be together as a group and as a family.
Astoria was sitting on the floor with Draco’s head on her chest, playing with his blonde platinum hair. Besides her was Blaise, who had Pansy between his legs, hugging her by her waist. And the other three -Theo, Y/n, and Mattheo- were close to the balcony, finishing their cigarettes.
Y/n didn’t smoke much, not as much as her boyfriend, but it was exams week and the stress alongside her anxiety was too much, she needed to take it down a bit.
— I don’t wanna see a fucking book on the rest of my life — Pansy whined, letting out a huff
Draco rolled his eyes — If you pass, you won’t have to.
— can you believe it? In a few months, we won’t be here anymore — Y/n said with a bittersweet tone of voice
Theo nod a that, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend frame. For some reason, he was always looking for her warmth, and since it was so late and so cold, he loved having her close to his body.
— Does it matter? — Draco asked not waiting for an answer — It’s not like things are gonna change, or that we are gonna be able to escape the hell that our lives are.
Clearly the alcohol was working on the blonde, cause otherwise he would have never said something like that. Draco didn’t talk, and definitely not about how sad his life was back at home. All of them, including the whole house of Slytherin were living in the same hell that the dark lord brought, and that’s why no one talked about it, it was easier to pretend that everything was just fine.
— Well, it’s not a surprise. We have been marked and judged since we were kids, like it was our fault the last name that we carry, or the house that we are in — Theo responded with harshness, making her girlfriend frown
Mattheo let out a sigh — We better play our part, right?
He was the most fucked of the group, he was the son of the person that was trying to destroy the magical world for years on end. The silence invaded them and everyone started to get lost in their thoughts, Y/n turned around putting her arms around Theo’s neck.
— Well be fine, right? — she asked in almost a whisper, wondering how bad things were gonna be once they graduated
Theo caressed her cheek — Well be together, that’s all that matters, Bella.
Y/n smiled at him with sadness, they had just a month left of school and they were trying to enjoy as much of it as they could. For example having breakfast together everyday, even if they were dying to sleep a little bit more. Partying from Thursday to Sunday with not just their house, but also the other three. Swimming in the black lake at night, and then going to the kitchen to get cups of hot chocolate.
Just a lot of things to be happy in times of death, darkness, and cruelty.
— I love you, cara mía, you know that right? — He said with a small smile
Y/n smiled back at him — Of course I know, and I love you too, darling.
One of Theo’s hands went to the back of her head and brought her close to his lips, almost melting when he felt her warmth. God how he enjoyed kissing and touching her.
— Get a room you scandalous people!
Everyone laughed at Draco’s slurred words, he was gonna regret all of the fire whiskey he had drunk tomorrow morning.
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Hoodies - LN
Summary: Hoodies are Lando’s signature look and his girlfriend agrees they’re the best.
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Lando frowns waking up to see his girlfriend rummaging around his luggage, she didn’t wake him up but he’s not impressed for her to be out of bed.
“What are you doing?”
Her jumping and spinning around with an expression that shows she has just been caught.
“Nothing.” Y/n smiles then crawling back onto the bed till she’s on top of him as she kisses him “Morning.”
“Morning, baby.” Lando smiles letting het think she’s distracted him for only a moment. “What were you doing?”
“You have trust issues you know that?” Y/n states before smiling at him when he deadpans his expression. “I was seeing what hoodies you had with you, I want to-“
“Steal one again?” Lando hums while she huffs and pouts. “I’ve bought you hoodies! Loads of them.”
“Ok, well I’ve had sex with you loads of times. Maybe you’ve had enough now.” She shoots back, not meaning a word of it. “I like your hoodies.”
“I do too. Stop stealing them.” Lando laughs earning a pout. Really he knows she’ll steal hoodies.
-
After the demand that she not steal a hoodie, y/n didn’t wear one of her hoodies because after checking the weather it’s warm and unlike her boyfriend she doesn’t just wear hoodies whatever the weather.
That backfires when the weather turns midway through the day and a storm starts to gather. It’s only Thursday so just a media day with a new seat fitting for Lando.
When he climbs back out the car he frowns looking over to find one of his mechanics has wrapped y/n in one of their jackets. Now he usually enjoys seeing that the McLaren team all care about his girlfriend and make sure she’s ok when Lando is busy, but there’s a spark of something in his chest that he doesn’t like the feeling of.
“Baby?” Lando frowns seeing her pulling the jacket tight around herself. “Are you cold?”
“A little but Andy gave me a jacket.” Y/n smiles then frowning when Lando practically yanks it off of her. “Hey-“
“You can wear my hoodie, dickhead.” Lando grumbles knowing that she had purposely taken the jacket when offered with the intention of Lando getting jealous and giving her his hoodie.
“No, it’s fine. You don’t-“
Lando pushes the hoodie down over her head immediately catching her in a kiss when she reappears into sight.
“Shut up. We both know you got what you wanted and I’d rather you wear my hoodie over anyone’s jacket next time.” Lando murmurs while Y/n looks at him for a moment then being kissed again. “Steal my hoodies all you like.”
“Really?” Y/n smiles even wiggling in excitement as she pushes her arms through the sleeves then hugging Lando tightly. “Do you know why I love your hoodies?”
Leaning back he frowns while she raises an eyebrow knowing he’d not put a second of thought into why she does what she does.
“Your hoodies feel like you.” Y/n states visibly melting her boyfriend who groans feeling like an asshole for having scolded her so many times for stealing the hoodies.
“I’m a dickhead.”
“No.” Y/n tsks then smiling when Lando kisses her several times. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Lando murmurs hugging her tightly as he rests his head on her shoulder.
Y/n sighs gently running her hand through his hair before she spots one of the social media team for McLaren capturing the moment on camera.
“Oh god, how much of that did you get?” Y/n asks making Lando’s head lift in confusion before he follows her gaze off to the side.
“Caught it from the moment Lando looked annoyed in the car.”
“Can you send it to me?” Lando asks earning a nod while y/n smiles knowing that Lando doesn’t verbalise it but he loves having moments like that captured for him to either just enjoy on his own or post when he feels like people are talking bad about the relationship. Though he notices y/n’s expression and rolls his eyes. “Don’t go all gooey.”
“I can’t help it, you’re so cute.” Y/n comes while Lando groans as she looks at him for a moment.
“Alright, have you warmed up?” Lando asks softly making her nod and smile at him. “Good.”
“And now I smell like you.”
Lando kisses her once more before moving back to his engineers.
The rest of the weekend is spent with y/n wearing Lando’s hoodies, to the point that Lando seems almost aggressive to make her wear them by this point. Any time she tries to put on one of her own hoodies or a jacket instead. She is sort of loving his need to assert that she’s his.
Really no one questions it or doubts that the two of them are very happy together but Lando knows how lucky is, though y/n thinks he forgets she’s even more lucky to have him. But he’d probably just disagree with her thinking she’s the luckier one.
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suguruplsr · 3 months
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“IM THE WEEKEND”
— slimy men who fuck young women. who cares about the ring on their finger? surely not them. it’s just a one time thing.. every week.
w/ geto suguru, kong shiu, fushiguro toji
,, x black fem!reader , infidelity , warnings by the names <3
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“You take Wednesday, Thursday
Then just send him my way
Think I got it covered for the weekend” — SZA, The Weekend
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Friday w/ Suguru
— face riding , use of pet names
sweet lies in exchange for an even sweeter pussy. that’s all there is to it, suguru thinks. telling his wife he works later on fridays, “to get more work done”, only to get home in the depths of early morning. walking past the food left out on the table for him and preparing for a long shower to, hopefully, wash off all the markings on his back.
but he can’t care all too much about his infidelity when he’s pulled into the threshold of your house. talks about your day disappearing between your lips when he’s pushed onto the cushion of your couch. and it wasn’t long until he was in his favorite place. underneath you. big brown thighs wrapped around his face with a hand tugging his hair.
“s’so good sugu..” you whine, biting your lip softly as suguru’s tongue traverses along your folds. the muscle was finding discoveries of the world of your pussy with the way he flicks it. “yea? keep movin’ baby.” suguru groans, his hand around your thigh moving up to your waist, squeezing the plush and guiding you to move your hips in rotation. “o-okay.. kinda tired.” you steady yourself, moving your hand from his hair, pressing the brown cushion as you slowly begin to move your hips in the way he guides you. suguru kisses your clit before pressing his tongue flat to your folds, letting you get off onto it on your own with his eyes closed in content. the gummy lips push against his pink muscle, his tongue slipping between the folds and gaining the taste of your juices. his dick twitches inside his business slacks, the pure taste of your ready cunt has him eager for what’s to come.
pun intended <3
Saturday w/ Shiu
— public sex (light) , use of pet names
partying with his friends might’ve become an overused excuse for shiu. considering the constant dings of his phone and the way his wife would let out an exaggerated sigh when he mentions the “scheduled” get together. but he’s too lazy to think up something new when he knows she’s sleeping with his co-worker. it’s fine as long as he gets to keep seeing the cute pastry girl down the street. the same woman he has bent over the counter of her own establishment. last customer perks of course.
you grip the wooden counter tightly, fingers surely to cramp later, as shiu holds onto your waist, fucking you into the table with harsh thrusts, but not enough to knock down the props of food that sat on it “s-slow down! someone might see!” you cry out, looking at the glass windows that would clearly display your shameless act to passersby, who you hope won’t look in. “not sure that’s g’nna change anything sweetheart. dont’cha got a sign up? we’ll be fineeee.” shiu drawls, not caring too much for your worries and admiring the skin of your back. your melanin glowed under the yellow lights, adorned with pretty yellow panties that were hidden under your cute green ruffle dress that had long fallen to the floor.
he switches to a slower pace, his dick sliding through you sluggishly to feel every ridge within you that would surely get ruined. you huffed, bringing a hand behind you, feeling the skin of his stomach and pushing, “nuh uh! please? we can just go in the back..” you’re reduced to a deep sigh as he fills you up to the hilt with his cock, a low “thoughtful” hum leaving him while he massages your plump ass with one hand, the other gripping your wrist.
“shh, the quicker you cum, the faster we’ll leave. be good f’me and take it like you always do.”
Sunday w/ Toji
— hair gripping , face fucking , use of pet names , teacher x parent , reader wears glasses (like me!)
Toji can’t care too much to give a fuck about his wife’s yelling when she sees the random pairs of panties and bras around his house. not like he actually wants to be with her. just a few more months with that tramp, then his family will be off his back about marriage. until then, he’ll keep messing around with megumi’s teacher, she’s a good woman. especially on her knees..
“y’know.. gumi was reallyyy bummed about that score friday, m’sure a sweet thing like you could just bump up his grade.” toji snickers, watching you roll your eyes, fed up with his weekly saying. but no doubt about it, his son’s a perfectionist. way different from his father. toji unconsciously licks his lips as you kiss the tip of his dick before you're forced to take it between those glossy lips of yours, his large hand holding your box braids into a ponytail, carefully of course.
his pockets are not in shape for another $300 withdraw.
“mm mm, can’t—“ you try to speak with the girth in your mouth, glasses tilting down your nose as he eased himself into the wet cavern of your mouth. eventually, your eyes start to water with the strain, closing them tight. “relax y’r throat sweetie — that’s a good girl.” toji grins, taking away the eye glasses, closing them and placing them on your desk. spit and saliva leave a nice sheen along his cock as he begins to fuck your face. “now what was that? riight, the grade, i’m sure you’ll re-think it after i cum down this fuckin’ throat.”
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little-diable · 4 months
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Hold me close - Prof!Carlisle Cullen (smut)
I know this isn't what you requested @emberfrostlovesloki – but I hope you still enjoy it! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Let's be honest, this is pure pwp, prof!Carlisle worries about the reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, prof x student, reader is legal ofc, age gap
Pairing: Prof!Carlisle x fem!student!reader (1.8k words)
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The room was filled with students, a buzzing atmosphere that trapped them, forcing anticipation to flush through their systems. Every Thursday morning they found themselves in this room, eyes glued to the professor most of them fawned over, begging for a few seconds of his attention. 
Professor Cullen had joined the university a few semesters ago, instantly becoming the students favourite professor. He had something to him that drew the students to him, lured closer by the man with golden eyes and frame so tall, they wondered how it must feel to have him towering over them. And trapped in the middle of it all was (y/n), one of the few students the professor called by her first name.
She couldn’t remember how it had all started, longing glances, inside jokes, cold touches. Nothing inappropriate had ever happened between them, Carlisle Cullen wasn’t one to cross lines that could end his career and ruin her future. And yet there was something between them that was anything but professional, an ongoing back and forth neither of them wanted to put an end to. 
“(Y/n)?” His voice cut through the sounds the crowd of students produced as they left the class, already excited for next week. Their eyes met, drawn to one another like moths to flames, silently communicating. He watched her move closer, trembling feet struggling to support her frame, hand darting out to grasp the edge of the table he was leaning against. “Are you alright?”
Concern dripped from the professor’s voice, worried eyes wandering over her features, trying to stop his hand from reaching out to touch her. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, trying to find her voice, but the room began to close in on her, unable to speak up as her vision grew blurry, head pounding. 
“Come, let’s get you somewhere quieter.” This time he didn’t manage to stop himself from touching her, hand placed on the small of her back as he guided (y/n) out of the room. Neither of them spared the curious eyes of the other students any of their attention, while Carlisle found himself worrying about (y/n), her mind slowly grew clearer once again, hyperfocusing on his touch. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Just water, please.” A hum left the professor as (y/n) sank down on the comfortable couch placed in Professor Cullen’s office, the room she had been in numerous times before. He moved quickly, placing the glass of water down for her before he sat down next to (y/n), eyes not leaving her features once. “I think I simply forgot to drink enough, I’ll be fine.”
“Mhm, you need to take better care of yourself, love.” The word left his lips before his mind could pick up on the things his mouth was doing, hearing her heartbeat picking up its beat. Even though he’d never admit it out loud, Carlisle loved the way her body was reacting to the things he said, the things he did, wondering how it must feel to have her pressed against him, fully focusing on every little reaction. “I can’t have my best student passing out, can I?”
“Your best? I doubt that.” (Y/n) didn’t dare meet his eyes, breath stuck in her chest as his hand found her chin, forcing her to look at him. For a few seconds neither of them spoke, while her blood began to sing in her ears, his eyes flickered down to her lips, allowing him to focus on the thoughts he had tried to drown out ever since meeting her. She felt his thumb on her trembling lower lip, carefully stroking the soft skin as a gasp left her, unable to stop the sound from leaving her. 
Before either one of them could move, the sound of his alarm going off ripped them apart. Carlisle rose to his feet with a sigh, reaching for his phone to silence it once again. “I’ll have to leave now for my shift at the hospital. Do me a favour and text me tonight, just a small update on how you are feeling.” 
……
Ever since (y/n) had left Professor Cullen’s office, she had wondered if their moments together had truly played out like that or if her confused mind was playing a trick on her. Whatever it was, she couldn’t help but be grateful for it, clinging to the memories playing in her mind over and over again. 
She wondered how long she should wait to text him, but ever since 8pm had rolled around, she had been sitting on her bed, eyes focused on her phone. Again and again she tried to type out her message to her professor, wondering what and how she should update him. Her fingers trembled at the mere thought of her professor, mind filled with sinful images she found herself longing for whenever she got time to think. 
Before she could send her text the professor had taken it upon himself to reach out, a simple “How are you doing, (y/n)? Do you need something?”. Heat rose in her body at the sweet message, biting her lip to stop her smile from growing even wider. With her heart pounding in her chest she typed her reply, fuelled by her curiosity and excitement. 
“I am alright, still a bit shaky, but no longer close to passing out. How was your shift?” Her phone was tossed away from her the second she had sent the text, insides churning in excitement, silently praying to whoever was listening that he’d fuel a conversation. 
It didn’t take him long to get back, but not in the form of another text, forcing (y/n) to reach for her buzzing phone as he called her. A deep exhale of warm air left her before she picked up the call, murmuring a soft “Hello?”.
“I don’t like that you’re still feeling unwell, if it’s alright with you I’d like to check on you.” She was glad that the professor couldn’t see her, pupils growing wide as her lips formed another grin. 
“I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do, I’m okay, promise.” (Y/n) could imagine him staring down on her, shaking his head with a displeased sigh leaving him, not trusting the young woman. 
“Nonsense, text me your address, I’ll be there in a few.” 
……
If somebody would have told her back then that within the next hour she’d end up in his lap, arms wrapped around his cold neck, lips locked with his, she probably would have broken out in laughter, doubting that he’d ever give into their game. And yet, here she found herself, straddling the man’s lap, fingers tangled in his golden hair. 
Carlisle’s cold hands moved up and down her back, leaving sparks to shoot down her spine. She kept on trembling, though no longer because of her exhausted body, but because of the things the man made her feel. He kissed her as if he was in search of her soul, chaining her to him with a few simple touches that left her burning from inside out. 
“You can always tell me to stop, love.” She couldn’t help but swoon at the care dripping from his words, holding her close with warm eyes getting lost in hers. (Y/n) cupped his cold cheek, pressing another kiss against his lips before a quiet “Don’t ever stop, please” left her.  
For a few seconds he stared at her before he flipped her onto her back, pressed against her couch with her legs wrapped around his waist. Her gasps left him smirking in pride, lips kissing their way down her throat, allowing her shaking fingers to unbutton the black dress shirt he was wearing. Both were fueled by their desire, unable to ponder on the question whether what they were doing was right or wrong, needing to feel one another. 
“My pretty girl, such a pretty sight. I want to take my time with you, but I can’t promise that I’ll be gentle.” The words left her moaning, eyes threatening to roll back into her head as her teeth left marks on her lower lip.
“Don’t be gentle, mark me up, please. Fuck me, professor.” (Y/n) whimpered the words, coaxing a deep grown from the man as he rose from his position. Without breaking eye contact both got rid of their clothes, bare bodies searching for one another’s closeness. Their lips met once again as he sneaked a hand between their bodies, making moans claw through (y/n). His cold fingers felt all too good against her pulsing bundle, the perfect sensation to push her closer and closer to the edge, once again begging him to fuck her. 
Carlisle was rough with her, forcing his cock into her tightness without another warning, but she was aching for him, desperate for him, ready to give him whatever he wanted from her. The tall man didn’t hold back as he fucked her on her couch, forcing her further into the fabric with his eyes growing darker and darker.
“Jesus, you feel so good, fuck.” (Y/n) kept praising the man, eyes squeezed shut, desperate to focus on the feeling that felt so unfamiliar she wondered if she had ever been touched before. Carlisle chased her lips, hungrily kissing the moaning woman as he fucked her even faster, leaving marks that would turn into bruises the next few days. Marks she’d forever cherish, smiling at the memories she clung to. 
Curses left the two as she clenched around him, unable to stop herself from cumming with his name leaving her, nails scratching at his skin. It took him a few more moments to let go, holding onto her with his dark eyes taking in every inch of her body. The groan leaving Carlisle as he came made (y/n) shudder, studying him with awe laced in her gaze.
“Fuck, that was-” she struggled to find any words as he gave into a laugh rumbling through him, kissing (y/n) once again before he pulled out of her. 
“It was. We can’t go back now, I hope you know that.” (Y/n) pulled him down once again, mumbling a “As if I’d ever want to go back” against his lips. 
766 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 1 year
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The Younger Kind Part 9 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: After he gives you the best time of your life, you wonder what exactly you mean to Bradley. Your heart sinks when he asks you to babysit again, and you realize you can't keep letting him do this to you. You brace yourself for another night of waiting for him to get home from a date, but you're in for a surprise when you arrive. 
Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more!
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Bradley realized on Thursday morning in the hangar that he had been avoiding Nat at work when she handed him a cup of coffee and said, "Oh, look, you do still exist. I've barely seen you all week. What's going on? You okay?"
"I'm fine, Nat."
"How's Noah? And how's it going with your babysitter?" she asked, raising one eyebrow at him.
The look on his face must have given him away. He could feel his cheeks flushing as he struggled to meet her eyes. "Pretty great," he muttered, and Nat gasped.
"You fucked her!"
He managed to meet her eyes now. "I mean, everything but."
"Bradley! You got off with her?" Nat asked, eyes wide. "You needed it to be special. Was it special?"
He swallowed hard, his eyes closing as he thought about your mouth on him and his mouth on you. Then your face and your laughter were right there, along with your books and bags of Skittles. "Yeah, Nat. It was."
The screeching sound coming from his best friend was obnoxious, but when he reached into his pocket when his phone vibrated, he felt sick. 
"Nat. It's Meredith."
She was immediately grabbing for his phone, but he pulled it away from her. "Let me answer it. I'll set her straight," Nat snarled, instantly angry. Bradley loved Natasha Trace for so many reasons, and her protectiveness of him and Noah was just one of them. "She doesn't have the right to call you!"
Bradley ignored the call and turned his phone off. "She does this every year around Noah's birthday. I don't know if it's out of guilt or what exactly, but I should have honestly been expecting it." 
But he hadn't been expecting Noah's mom to start trying to contact him, because instead, Bradley had been completely distracted by you. When you were at his house watching Noah, that's where he wanted to be, too. And when you weren't there, he was wondering what you were doing. And when he was there with you, he couldn't keep his hands off you.
"She gave birth to Noah, and then she left. She doesn't get to keep doing this to you," Nat whispered, running her hand along his arm. "She has no guardianship rights."
"I know, Nat," Bradley replied, "but I'm always afraid she will try to petition for it."
When Nat wrapped her arms around him, Bradley let her hold him for a moment. "So what are you going to do about the babysitter?" she asked, smirking up at him.
Bradley shrugged and closed his eyes. "Keep her away from Jake, I guess."
She laughed and punched him in the middle; hugging time must be over now. "I'm serious, Bradley."
"So am I, Nat. And she's too young for me." And then when Bradley was called to his aircraft, it was with thoughts of you soaking his face while you moaned his name on his mind.
After work, when he pulled into the parking lot at Noah's daycare, he turned his phone back on. There were a number of missed calls from his ex and several texts from her as well.
Meredith: Please call me back. I just want to talk for a minute. I just need to know how Noah is doing.
He couldn't let her keep doing this. It would be too confusing for Noah as he got older and realized who she was. But instead of writing back, Bradley scrolled down to your name and tapped his screen.
He was supposed to have a date with someone named Eliza from the app on Saturday night, but what was the point? It had been less than twenty four hours since Bradley made you cum all over his face, and he was craving you in every way. He needed your fingers in his hair and your taste on his tongue as much as he needed to eat and breathe. 
Princess, can you come over on Saturday night?
----------------------------
You had been turned on since last night. Even when you left Bradley's house and got home, your skin was tingling and there was a soft buzzing in your ears. You'd been up half the night, thinking about his mouth and getting yourself worked up. 
The truth was, you wanted Bradley so much, you didn't know if you could be around him if you weren't allowed to touch him. The memory of the strands of his soft, wavy hair was still present on your fingertips as you pressed them against your own clit. You were finally caving, touching yourself now, even though you were half afraid it would override the feel of his mustache on you. 
But it didn't. Not at all. As you fingered yourself, you thought you could smell him in your bed. And when you came around your own fingers, they felt like his. You wondered if you'd ever be able to squirt like that again, because he had liked it. He had told you it was hot, said you were a Princess who should be worshipped. 
You were probably going to be horny for the rest of your life. 
But when you hadn't heard from Bradley by Thursday afternoon, you were starting to feel awkward. You had sucked his cock; he said it was the best blowjob of his life. He had eaten your pussy; it was the most intense orgasm you'd ever had. And he still paid you for babysitting. You groaned as you walked back to your car after class. Why did you let him pay you? You should have refused. 
You were looking at your phone, reading a new text from him before you could even process what was going on.
Bradley Bradshaw: Princess, can you come over on Saturday night?
Your heart felt elated. You were typing back to him, immediately agreeing. But then you almost dropped your phone down a storm drain. He probably had another date. Someone else from the app. You were going to get jealous again, and he was going to come home early again and tell you that he couldn't stop thinking about you. He was going to keep doing this over and over, and you were so afraid that you were going to let him. 
When Greyson called you a minute later, you answered without really looking at your phone. 
"Hey. You wanna come over?"
"Um," you mumbled. "I just got out of class, and I have a lot of homework."
"Come do your homework here," he said, and you could tell he was smiling. 
You'd been avoiding Greyson a lot lately, and you knew it was mostly because of Bradley. 
"Come on," he whined. "I'll feed you dinner."
You laughed. "What's for dinner? Hot cheetos and cheap beer?" you asked. You instantly thought about the filet mignon you'd eaten at Bradley's kitchen table last night and all of the expensive coffees he bought for you. Because as funny as it was to pick on him for supposedly flirting with the baristas, you knew he was buying them for you because you liked them.
"Maybe on Sunday, Grey," you told him and then hung up a minute later. You'd give Bradley one more chance, otherwise you needed to be done. 
----------------------
Bradley spent most of Friday evening and Saturday morning thinking about what he should do about Meredith in between thoughts of you. He had cancelled his date with Eliza on Thursday, and now he was counting down the hours until you would be here with him and Noah. 
He wanted so badly to spend the evening here, just the three of you, but he hadn't told you about the plan ahead of time. His brain was telling him this was a mistake, but his body and heart were overruling everything he thought.
When he put Noah down for an afternoon nap and tried to figure out what to wear for the night, Meredith called him again. You, you, you. He wanted to focus on you. He ignored the call again, realizing he was going to have to deal with her eventually, or he might run the risk of her showing up here on Noah's birthday.
Frustrated, Bradley pulled on a soft tee shirt and some comfortable sweatpants. If he was going to indulge himself in his fantasy of spending an evening at home, eating popcorn with the right girl, then he was going all in. Then he pulled out another soft shirt and another pair of pants and left them on this bed along with your purple paper crown.
It was nearly dinnertime when Noah woke up, and Bradley was expecting you soon. He was so antsy, and by the time he heard your car in the driveway, he and Noah were both running for the front door to see you.
"Hi!" you said a bit breathlessly, taking in the sight before you. Bradley was clearly not dressed for a date, at least not the kind he'd been going on before. And Noah was holding up a coloring page of a princess in a castle that he and Bradley had worked on for you. "Is that for me?" you asked, eyeing both of them with a soft smile. 
"It's a princess," Noah informed you. "Daddy helped me use all the colors so she's as pretty as you."
You took the page in your hand and looked at it before bending to kiss Noah on the top of his head. Bradley's heart was pounding in his chest as you looked him up and down curiously. "You're not going out?" He thought your voice sounded hopeful, and the way you were nibbling softly on your glossy lip was enough to make his cock twitch. 
"No, Princess," he told you, and you released your lip from your teeth and licked it. God, he wanted to push you down on the couch and undress you. Taste your pretty pussy again. "I thought the three of us could have a night in."
"Oh," you whispered. You looked and sounded surprised. He should have figured you would, since he'd been seeing a multitude of women over the past few weeks, all while knowing he just wanted you. 
"Daddy said we can order a pizza," Noah said, hugging your leg and pulling you toward the kitchen. 
"Is Daddy going to make popcorn and watch a movie later, too?" you asked, grinning at Bradley. 
"That's the plan, Princess," he whispered, running his knuckles along your soft cheek while Noah led you to the kitchen table. You stopped when you saw two cups from his favorite coffee shop next to each other. When you read both of them, you laughed and picked up the one that had Princess written across it.
"This one must be yours." You picked up the cup that said peasant and handed it to Bradley as you took a sip of your vanilla latte.
"It sure is," he agreed as he drank his hazelnut coffee. "I left more pajamas out on my bed if you want to change. And I'll order whatever kind of pizza you like."
You were looking up at him in awe. He should have done this with you weeks ago. "Okay," you whispered and told him what your favorite kind of pizza was. Then he sat down to color with Noah and watched you walk out of the kitchen and head to his bedroom. He immediately thought about following you. He could push you up against his dresser, wedge his knee between your thighs and listen to you make the noises that he thought about when he touched himself while he kissed you. 
But instead he colored a knight in armor with a blue crayon and sipped his coffee. He wasn't sure what you wanted from him. He wasn't even really certain about what he wanted with you. But the more time he spent around you, it was going to become increasingly difficult to keep his hands to himself. 
---------------------------
You stood next to Bradley's bed and looked at the soft Top Gun shirt and the lounge pants he had left out for you. Your crown was there too. What exactly was happening here? You felt like you had missed something. He wasn't going on a date. He was staying home all evening with you and Noah. Maybe he was feeling things ever since you and he had spent some time together on his living room couch. You definitely were. 
Without bothering to close the door, you took off your shoes and socks and stripped down to your underwear. The well worn lounge pants were way too long and needed to be rolled at the waist, but the fabric felt nice against your skin. Bradley's shirt was too big as well, so you tied the bottom of it in a little knot that showed off a bit of skin at your waist. 
You ran your fingers along the paper crown before picking it up and setting it on your head as well. Then you grabbed the yellow crown from Noah's room and took it with you.
When you were standing in the kitchen doorway and saw Bradley with Noah sitting on his thigh while they colored, you felt a little dizzy. "The knight can match the Princess," Bradley was telling his son. "And then we can color the dragon."
"An orange dragon," Noah said, locating the correct crayon. You didn't get to see them interact like this too much, since Bradley was usually leaving when you got here. But you thought you could watch this all night. 
Just as Bradley was pressing a kiss to Noah's hair, you heard his phone ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned, ignoring a call before looking up at you. And then his expression changed completely. His eyes were a little wide, and his lips parted as he looked at you. 
You thought you'd feel a little self conscious in his clothing, but the way he was looking at you was making you feel bold. 
"Princess," he rasped as you strolled the rest of the way into the room. The urge to sit on his other thigh and press soft kisses to his cheek and Noah's was almost overwhelming. His eyes were glued on the little spot of your skin that was on display above the lounge pants, as if he hadn't had you spread out on his couch with his face buried in your pussy a few days ago. As if he hadn't seen nearly everything before. As if you hadn't squirted on him when you came.
But his cheeks were flushed now, and you felt need thrumming through your body as your nipples tightened. When the doorbell rang, you jumped a few inches, and Bradley stood up, setting Noah down in the seat. 
"Probably the pizza," he muttered when he brushed past you, his knuckles brushing your skin. You moaned softly, and you turned to see him running his fingers through his hair as he retrieved dinner. 
You stood at the table next to Noah, and Bradley came to stand behind you, guiding a pizza box and container of salad over your head and setting them down in front of you. "Here you go, Princess," he whispered, and you felt his lips brush your ear while Noah colored. You turned your face toward him, and his lips met your cheek. You brushed your body back against him, and he grunted; you could feel his cock through his pants where it rubbed along your butt, and he was definitely a little hard.
It was all so domestic and sexy, just like the morning after you'd slept alone in Bradley's bed. He was giving you goosebumps. You swallowed hard as he backed away from you. "Wait. A salad. I feel like this is a test," you told him as he gathered some plates and utensils. 
Bradley chuckled as he opened two beers and set one next to your plate. "Go ahead," he said, nodding at the salad container. 
You tried not to smile as you added some salad to your plate and covered it in a copious amount of the salad dressing. "Thank goodness," Bradley muttered, fixing his salad up in a similar fashion as his knee bumped your thigh. 
You started cutting up a slice of pizza into smaller bites for Noah, and the way Bradley whispered, "Thank you," had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. "You always take care of us."
You looked him in the eye. "You're not paying me tonight, right?"
His eyes dipped down to your lips as he slowly shook his head. "No."
You put the plate of pizza in front of Noah and asked, "Should we make a crown for your dad, too? Look how sad he looks without one." When Bradley pouted at both of you, Noah started laughing. 
"He needs a green one," Noah informed you, and as soon as you were finished eating dinner, Noah was in Bradley's lap and you were standing behind him. You let your fingers trail through his hair while you measured his head with a piece of green construction paper. 
Bradley was leaning into your touch while Noah tried to help you. After you cut out the crown and Noah colored it, you taped it together. "Here you go, Noah. Set it on his head," you told him, and you watched him place the silly paper crown on his dad's head. It was completely crooked, and Bradley's wavy hair stuck out around it, but he looked impossibly adorable when he glanced up at you.
"Am I a prince now?" he rasped, and you wanted to kiss him. You even thought about doing it in front of Noah, but you held yourself at bay. 
"No, Daddy, I'm the prince," Noah said with a laugh grabbing him by the nose. "You're the knight."
"Ah, that makes sense," Bradley told him, kissing his plump little cheek. "Who wants to watch a movie and eat popcorn?"
"Me!" you and Noah said in unison, and you scooped him up from Bradley's lap.
"You need to get some pjs on first, like me and your dad," you told Noah. 
"Daddy doesn't have pjs on. He doesn't wear shirts at night," Noah insisted, and you turned toward Bradley and shook your head.
"By the time we meet you in the living room, you better be in dress code," you scolded him playfully, wondering if he'd take his shirt off like he had the other morning. 
Bradley just smirked at you. "Sure, Princess. Whatever you want."
You changed Noah into race car pajamas and carried him to the couch while Bradley popped a bag of popcorn, and you dug your bag of Skittles out of your tote.
"Which movie do you want?" you asked Noah as he settled onto your lap. You scrolled through his collection of animated movies, and he chose Sleeping Beauty. You had the movie queued up and ready to play when Bradley walked in shirtless with a gigantic bowl of popcorn and two steaming mugs, his crown still crooked on his head. He handed you the mug that said Getting high is part of my job and you laughed.
"Thanks," you whispered as he settled down next to you. You pushed play, and Bradley took the remote from your hand since Noah and your fresh coffee were an armful at the moment. 
"You're welcome," he replied, his warm bicep resting against your shoulder. Every time you reached into the bowl of popcorn on his lap, you glanced at his naked torso. Bradley was so pretty, you didn't think you'd ever get used to looking at him. 
You wanted to kiss him, but instead you shoved fistfuls of popcorn into your mouth. Noah was making a mess, dropping it on Bradley's lap and the floor. But you didn't seem to mind, and neither did Bradley. And the whole night felt perfect. Bradley took your empty mug from you and set it on the floor along with his and the empty popcorn bowl. 
When he settled against the back of the couch, he let his arm come to rest around your shoulders. You smirked up at him, and he smirked down at you, and then you reached for the bag of Skittles you had hidden on your other side. 
"You want some?" you asked, dangling the bag in his face. 
He leaned in closer, and you thought he was going to kiss you. "Have I earned the privilege?" he whispered. 
His voice made you feel weak, and your fingers shook a little bit as you ripped open the package. "I think so. But you only get a twenty five percent cut, remember?"
"Oh, yeah. I remember," he told you, eyes half lidded as he looked at your lips when you placed a green Skittle there before biting into it. "I earned that right for kissing you so good."
You bit back a moan as Noah repositioned himself on your lap. "Yeah, Daddy," you agreed, and now Bradley was the one actually moaning. He watched your every move as you dumped out three more Skittles into your palm, took the orange one, and fed it to him. When your thumb caught on his lip, you scooted even closer to him. Then you dumped out four more and fed him one of them. "You're getting exactly one quarter of them, and not a Skittle more."
He ate every single one you placed between his lips, and finally he asked, "What if I do a really great job again? Do I have the potential to earn more?"
You almost dumped Noah on the floor by accident as you leaned in and kissed Bradley softly on his lips. When you pulled away, he chased you for another, and your lips willingly returned to his. You traded soft nudges and shared smiles, lips teasing gently as the movie played in the background. 
"Princess," Bradley whispered against your lips as his hand came up to caress your cheek. His crown slipped down his forehead and you giggled. Noah shifted on your lap and turned to face you while he yawned, and you pulled away from Bradley as his hand dropped down to his lap. 
"Are you getting sleepy?" you asked Noah softly, and he nodded. "Do you want to finish the movie?" He nodded again. "Come here, we can snuggle."
You pulled him against your chest and glanced up at Bradley before you stretched out on the couch and let your head rest on his thigh. You were sandwiched between Noah's tiny body and even breathing as he fell asleep in front of you and Bradley's solid warmth beneath your head. When he brought his fingers up to brush a pattern along your neck, you shivered and closed your eyes. You were melting against him while his big hand came to rest on your shoulder, stroking your collarbone through his soft tee shirt.
------------------------
You were asleep in Bradley's lap with your arms wrapped around his son, and he fucking needed this. Your skin was so soft against his fingers, and your lips looked pouty in your sleep. Tonight had been perfect. Better than any other date he'd had using the app. Probably better than any other date he'd had, ever. He couldn't even really remember his first date with Meredith, and he'd had a fucking child with her. 
You moaned softly as the end credits played, and you nuzzled your cheek against his thigh. Bradley gently removed his own crown followed by yours and Noah's and set them on the end table. He didn't want to disturb you, but he needed to put Noah in his bed. So Bradley gently slid out from beneath you and eased your cheek down against the couch cushion. When he knelt in front of Noah and tried to untangle your arms, you jolted awake and pulled Noah closer to yourself, as if you were protecting him.
"Oh," you sighed, "it's just you." You looked pleased to see that Bradley was the one scooping Noah up off the couch. 
"It's just me, Princess," he promised, watching you sit up and stretch, your arms pulling his shirt higher, revealing more skin. "I'll be right back."
As gently and as quickly as he could, Bradley carried Noah to his bed and tucked him in with a kiss. He could still picture the way you had been holding him, and he couldn't get enough as he rushed back out to the living room. 
You were cleaning the mess of popcorn off the floor and picking up the Skittles wrapper when he said, "You don't have to do that."
"I don't mind." Then you turned to face him and dumped out four more pieces of candy into your palm before putting the trash in the empty popcorn bowl. 
He slowly closed the distance between the two of you, saying, "According to the rules, exactly one of those Skittles belongs to me."
You pressed your lips together, and he could tell you were trying not to laugh. When he reached for the candies in your palm, you closed your fingers around them and pulled your hand away. "Not so fast."
He crowded you in with a smirk until you were backed up against the wall. "Rules are rules, baby," he whispered. 
"And what if I give you two of them? Make it a fifty/fifty share of the final four?" you asked, looking up at him as he rested one forearm on the wall next to your head. "What would you say then?"
He grunted, placing a kiss on your cheek. "I'd say you were giving me a green light, Princess." He kissed your lips softly, adding, "And I'd say I'm extra thankful I cancelled my app date to spend time with you instead. Because a girl who gives me more than my fair share of Skittles is the only one I want."
You tipped your head back against the wall. "Did you really cancel to spend the night here with me and Noah?"
"Yeah."
"Do you remember what her name was?"
"No."
You giggled. "It's better this way. She probably hates salad dressing." You parted his lips with your thumb and gently fed him not one but two of the Skittles before crunching the other two between your teeth and smirking at him.
"Come here, Princess," Bradley growled, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling your body against him. He inhaled your sweet wildflower scent and said, "Tell me what you want."
You dragged the tip of your tongue along Bradley's lips and whispered, "I want you, Daddy."
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Now that's more like it, Daddy! Princess wants you...will you let her have you? Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
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2K notes · View notes
mockerycrow · 11 months
Note
Hello!!!!!! So i was wonderinfg if you could do a piece for cod mw2? A platonic 141 (other characters can be added if youd like) x (preferably 18-20 yr old) gn or fem reader. It can be a oneshot or headcannons, i dont mind either format!!! If you do a oneshot, any scenario (a mission, off duty, etc) is fine w me!!! You basically have free reign, just keep it strictly platonic, not even a smidge of the hints w the reader and romantic relationships 👍❤️
Ain’t That A Kick In The Head? (Platonic!141 x Fem!Reader)
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cod masterlist
A/N: YESS!! I LOVE PLATONIC FICS!! 99% of my writing so far has been romantic, kind of funny considering I’m aromantic and queer. thank you anon <3 i’m also sorry for taking so long. your speciality isn’t specified, but it can’t be demolitions, im sorry!! plot purposes.
[WARNINGS: mentioned misogyny, fluff.]
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Considering how young you are, you deal with quite a lot of people who have low expectations for you. To be fair, you don’t have much experience, but you are a quick learner and that’s very much needed on this base. You’re a Specialist, one rank above Private in the U.S. army ranks. When people first meet you, they expect you to be a coward, a twenty year old girl—is what they like to call you—who doesn’t know the difference between a 5.56 mm cartridge and a 7.62 mm cartridge, a clueless little girl. Of course you did not know everything, but it was clear you know enough and have enough skill as you’re apart of the 141.
When you were first picked for the team, Ghost was a bit skeptical. Your age played a big factor because he was concerned about your level of experience, but he overall trusts Price’s judgement. A huge part of it was him worried about how you would take in all of the traumatizing sights they see on every mission. How you would be able to take someone down without a second thought, even if they pleaded for their life. He didn’t voice this worry, nor did he do anything to “shield” you because he knows you know what you signed up for.
You physically train/spar with Ghost and Gaz separately frequently. They are different in size and in style of defense/attack, so they both give you great pointers on how to defend yourself and how to initiate an attack. You have a schedule with them; when you’re on base, you train with Gaz Mondays and Tuesdays and Ghosts on Thursdays, preferably early in the morning with Gaz and in the evening with Ghost. Even when you perfect your own style for attack and defense, you keep training with them; “So you don’t get rusty.”
Price knows what you signed up for, and he knows that he picked you, so like everyone else on the task force, he begins to train you. Being an expert in violence and timing—unconventional warfare too, he occasionally sits in on your training sessions with Gaz and/or Ghost. Sometimes, he talks with Gaz or Ghost beforehand to set up a specific scenario for you to find a way to get out of alive.
Being said, Price takes you out as well as the team to a training field, doing the exact same thing but in a more.. realistic scenario. Being so young, he figures you still have an unacceptable type of response with “fight, flight, or freeze”. His plan is to strip away the freeze response because that’s the one that will get you killed. He also very specifically has himself and your teammates as the enemies in this field because while you’re supposed to trust your team with your life, there’s also often betrayal in the field.
Soap is a demolitions expert, as well as a sniper. He absolutely refuses to let you handle real bombs at first because he knows you didn’t specialize in demolitions like he did. After spending a few months with you, he brings out non-dangerous replicas of bombs and replicated parts to begin to show you how to take a bomb apart/defuse it, when it’s best to let it explode, or how to put one together for emergencies. He absolutely 110% makes sure you know it’s for emergencies when he isn’t there. It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable, but he can’t help but worry. Him learning about how Gaz and Price met, how Price only had seconds to shove the hostage with a bomb vest strapped to him over that railing? Fucking terrifying to him.
Gaz also helps you complete your interrogation training—not being the interrogator, but then interrogatee. Undergoing several mentally challenging tests himself of this variety, he tasks himself with giving you pointers. Your task is to keep your mouth shut about intel and escape the facility and remain hidden, uncaptured during the entire test. He’s so incredibly used to uncomfortable situations, so his pointers during this—seeing that he passed this test himself, the only one who past it in his class—his advice is helpful.
Besides training with Ghost, he coaches you ambushes and stealth. Every time you’re caught in a test, he coaches you on how to evade, on how to remain hidden even when the enemy is right in front of you. He teaches you how to set up traps and ruses, what traps are most commonly used and spotted and what ones aren’t.
Overall, they know you’re inexperienced and young, but you quickly take their advice and training into account, and you get to teach them a thing or two when you arrive on base. You learn quick and Price finally feels as if you’re ready for an intense stealth mission, accompanied by the team. They don’t have any doubt held in their hearts for you, 100% trusting your abilities.
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supernovafics · 6 months
Note
Absolutely loving the I’ll be there for you universe not sure if you’re taking requests but I’d absolutely love to see reader getting jealous over Steve bring a girl back to their apartment 💗
𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.8k words
warnings: (slightly)jealous!reader, explicit language, angst, soft(ish) ending
summary: in which a night that was already pretty shitty turns even worse when steve brings his date back to the apartment
author's note: i loved this request idea !! this became a lot more angsty than i initially planned/thought it would be 😭 (also i'm so happy that ur enjoying this little universe so far<333)
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Fall 1985
There were some moments in your life that were so ridiculous it made you feel like you were in a movie; one that was a solid mix between comedy and horror. 
Tonight proved to be one of those moments.
And it wasn’t even the fact that you were in your bedroom stuck studying for a Psych test on a Thursday night rather than doing your original plan of seeing some show at The Hideout with Eddie that made you feel that way. Instead, what made you feel like you were trapped inside the horror-comedy that was called your life was the fact that you had completely forgotten that Steve had gone on a date tonight. But, you were all too quickly reminded of that when you heard the squeaky front door of the apartment open and close, and then not too long after that, you heard the sound of Steve’s voice saying something you couldn’t fully decipher, but a girl’s very elated giggles were the response to his words.
“Shit,” You muttered to yourself as you immediately stopped reviewing your notes and started desperately searching for your Walkman and headphones. 
Moments like this were not supposed to happen, and after how quickly you and Steve learned that the walls in the apartment were insanely thin, you put a sort of system in place to make sure this kind of thing never happened. You would always tell each other when either of you were going on a date that could potentially lead to the person being brought back to the apartment, so that you or Steve could plan not to be there if that happened. And if it was actually a last second thing, you would try to do it at the person’s place instead of abruptly bringing them to the apartment. 
For the most part, this little system worked perfectly fine, and in the four months that you two had been living in the apartment there hadn’t been any issues with it. But, apparently, tonight Steve either forgot about the system or he decided to disregard it entirely.
And yes, in his mind, you were supposed to be gone for most of the night anyway— Steve hadn’t known that your plans abruptly changed when you were reminded of the test that you’d entirely forgotten about— but he definitely did not tell you that his date would potentially take this turn. When he talked about it early that morning as you two shared a quick breakfast before you ran off to class, he seemed pretty passive about the whole thing. He had quite literally shrugged and gave you a half-hearted “yes” when you asked him if he was at least a little excited about it.
Somehow it was this realization that things had apparently gone so well that he decided to bring Vanessa back to the apartment that bothered you a bit more than the situation you were now in where you could potentially hear scarring things at any given moment.  
It annoyed you further that, technically, in some fucked up kind of way, all of this was your fault. 
Vanessa was in your communications class; it was probably the one course this semester you actually didn’t hate. You and her had the kind of relationship where you did consider her a friend, but you also knew that you’d probably never see her again once the semester was over and you two were no longer in the same class.
It had only been last week when you offhandedly mentioned Robin and Steve’s Family Video to her when she mentioned to you that the video store by her never had anything good. And when she showed up to class the next day gushing about the “hot guy that worked there,” you told her that he was your best friend. She then excitedly asked if there was any way you could help set them up, and you stupidly told her yes. 
It was probably one of the dumbest things you’d ever said because you and Steve never set each other up with anyone; it was one of your unspoken rules. There was just something about doing so that felt weird and somehow wrong. 
Being each other’s “wingmen” while you were out at some party or giving dating advice was completely different. Doing either of those things didn’t feel as personal as actively looking for someone for each other; mainly because you knew that you both would be so damn picky and would only want to find that “perfect person” for one another. And then there was the more selfish side of it where neither of you really wanted to do it because your friendship always shifted in a certain kind of way whenever either of you got in a serious relationship. 
In your head, Vanessa wasn’t that perfect person, and you wished that you could use your selfishness as a plausible reason to tell her that you didn’t want to help set them up, but it wasn’t a good reason so you did it.
That same day, you told Steve that she thought he was cute and gave him her number, and he called her and the rest was history. 
You didn’t even think that anything would really stem from the date because of how uncaring Steve seemed about it this morning, but you once again thought about how that apparently had changed. And you adamantly pretended that you weren’t currently feeling something weird in your stomach because of that. 
You finally found your Walkman and you popped in a cassette tape before slipping your headphones on and going back to reviewing your notes. You fully pushed your mind away from Steve and Vanessa and what they were doing on the opposite side of the apartment in his bedroom.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It was hard to tell if you were actually retaining any of the information that you had been studying for the past hour. But, it was easier to just pretend you were instead of letting yourself think about anything else. 
You kept your focus on the chapter you were reading and the music playing in your ears; a new album that you just got and were finally getting around to listening to. 
You had spent the last five minutes stuck on reviewing a concept that wasn’t making much sense to you before deciding to simply skip it for the time being and turning to the next page in your textbook. It was always in moments like these where you would wonder if any of what you were doing would eventually make sense in the grand scheme of things. If you’d ever learn if there was any point to studying and stressing over a stupid Psychology test, because would it even lead you to where you wanted to be in the future? However, it was hard to fully answer that question because you still didn’t even know what you wanted your future to look like. And that was just another thing that you wanted to push your mind away from at that moment.
Right as you were about to put a new tape in your Walkman, you once again heard the squeaky sound of the front door opening, and then after a few moments and hearing what you assumed were goodbyes, you heard it close.
With a loud sigh, you stood up from your desk, closing your textbook and notebook in the process because you were over studying, and you were now ready to become at least a little mad at Steve for making you feel like a hostage in your own home for the last hour.
You immediately noticed him in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge.
“Hey,” You said, and he jumped a bit before quickly turning around to face you; it was a little funny seeing how much you slightly startled him, almost enough to make you not feel mad at him anymore, but not quite. 
“Woah, I didn’t even know you were here,” He said as he closed the fridge. “I thought you were gonna be with Eddie all night.”
“That plan changed because I remembered I have a test tomorrow, so I’ve been here studying for the past few hours.”
“Oh,” He said, and then it seemed as if something quickly clicked in his mind. “Shit. Did you hear–”
You interrupted him by immediately shaking your head. “No, thank God, no.”
“I’m sorry, I had no idea you were gonna be here tonight,” He told you, his voice then became soft. “I also didn’t think that would happen tonight, which is why I didn’t even think about mentioning it this morning.”
You once again wondered what happened on the date; how great it must have gone. But as much as you wanted to know everything about it, you also wanted to know absolutely nothing. You felt that weird feeling in your stomach coming back. This time you were able to decipher what it was— annoyance, and maybe even a little jealousy.
That was foreign to you because you never felt that way when it involved Steve and who he was dating or even simply flirting with. You didn’t necessarily like all of the girls he brought around, but you were always supportive and never felt an ounce of jealousy. Maybe it was the fact that you facilitated this situation that made it all feel worse somehow; like it was “too close to home,” in a way. 
You knew that you’d see Vanessa tomorrow— right before your stupid Psych test that you should probably still be studying for— and she’d probably tell you all about the date; excitedly rehashing the details of it. The thought of that happening only made the feeling in your stomach grow, and you quickly became frustrated with yourself for feeling so annoyed about everything right then. 
“You want a grilled cheese?” Steve asked, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. He went into the pantry to grab the bread. “I was about to make one.”
You nodded at him, happy to pretend that you weren’t internally falling down a very rough hill. “Yes, I’ll take one. I think that’s very fair compensation for the almost trauma you just put me through.”
“I agree,” Steve said as he pulled out a pan. “And once again, I’m sorry.”
“Say that a thousand more times and maybe I’ll forgive you,” You told him teasingly before sitting on the couch and turning on the TV. You flipped through the channels for a bit before settling on a random sitcom, watching it as Steve cooked in the kitchen and the smell of toasted bread and melted cheese started wafting through the air. 
“Here you go,” He said barely ten minutes later as he handed you a plate with your grilled cheese on it. “And make sure to cross this next “sorry” off the tab. I’m sorry.”
You laughed a bit at the pouty face he gave you to emphasize the apology. “Thanks.”
He sat down next to you on the couch and a silence settled between you two as you both enjoyed the grilled cheese sandwiches and only half-enjoyed the TV show playing.
The mindlessness of the show made it somewhat easy to avoid your thoughts. However, you still couldn’t help but silently debate whether or not you should let your curiosity get the better of you and ask him how the date went; even though you were almost certain that the answer he gave you would only make what you were feeling worsen. 
“So, are you gonna see her again?” You decided to ask him instead. 
That felt like the easier question to ask since you fully expected Steve to say no because nine times out of ten, he was rarely ever a second date kind of person; even if sex was involved on the first date. So, if the answer to your question was the no that you thought it would be, there would be no reason to feel this confusing jealous feeling because it wasn’t like anything more was going to stem between them. 
You were already mentally swearing to yourself that you’d never set him up with anyone again if this was how you’d feel when you did. Maybe that was another subconscious reason why you both never did this in the first place; deep down you knew just how uncomfortable it would be.
“Yeah,” Steve answered before he took another bite of his grilled cheese. “We’re gonna go to the movies next weekend.”
You only nodded halfheartedly at that because you couldn’t think of any actual words to say in response.
Instead of your current feelings washing away, they only increased tenfold, and then it all settled into something that resembled sadness. And then you became upset at yourself because you couldn’t pinpoint exactly where your melancholy was coming from. 
Were you jealous of Vanessa for potentially “stealing” your best friend away? Jealous of Steve for potentially getting into something serious while you were nowhere close to having that? Or simply annoyed with yourself for being the one to have made this happen in the first place? 
It was a solid mix of all three, you knew that— that was probably the one thing you were actually certain about. 
“You okay?” Steve asked. You were unsure how long you’d been quiet, but the show playing on the TV was now on a commercial break, so you knew that it had been at least a minute or two.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” You immediately told him. You wondered how obvious it was for your best friend to tell that you were quite far from fine. “I’m just… really tired. I’ve been studying for that test for so long and I kinda have a headache, and yeah…” You abruptly stood up from the couch. “I’m just gonna go to bed. ‘Night.”
You placed your now empty plate under Steve’s and then started heading to your bedroom before he could read you like a book and ask you more questions about what was currently going on with you.
“Goodnight,” You heard Steve say before you closed your door behind you. 
You knew that you should’ve sat back down at your desk and studied some more, but in that moment you truly couldn’t be bothered. You were suddenly glad that Psychology was your last class on Fridays so you’d have some more time to study throughout the day before having to take the test.
You laid down in your bed and pulled your blanket over your head as you let out a long breath. Every single thing you were feeling was still lingering and somehow it didn’t feel as if it was going away. You hoped it would all be gone by the morning; that you’d wake up feeling the complete opposite of how you were right then, that you’d feel stupid and laugh at how you had felt tonight. 
It could’ve been only a minute of you lying in your bed, or it could’ve been ten— you had no concept of time in that moment— but you heard a knock on your door at some point. You ignored it, hoping that Steve would go away, but also knowing that he wouldn’t.
Barely a minute later, you heard your door open and you didn’t have to see Steve to know that he was walking in. He was trying to be as quiet as possible, but the creaky wooden floors didn’t allow for any sort of silence.
You slowly pulled the blanket down from over your head and looked up at him. “Hi.”
“Hi,” He said as he set something down on your nightstand. “Some water and aspirin for your headache.”
A small smile took over your face and you sat up. “Thanks.”
“I know you’re too tired now, but I can help you study a little in the morning, if you want,” He told you and then gave you a playful smile. “I love reading your notecards.”
You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “Shut up, I know you hate helping me study for anything.”
“Yes, but I’ll always still do it.” 
You smiled at that. “Okay, well in that case, wake up at eight and we can study for an hour before I have to leave for my nine-thirty class.” 
“Got it.” 
“Thank you,” You said before leaning your head back against your pillow.
For a moment, you thought about telling him how you’d been feeling tonight; the jealousy, the annoyance. He’d probably think it was funny, just like you would in a few days. But, when you turned your head to look at Steve before he left your room and softly closed the door behind him, you decided against saying anything.
Just in case everything you were feeling right then actually meant something a little different than what you thought it did.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
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thewayitalknj · 3 months
Text
Friday, I'm In Love?
Eddie Munson x Female Reader.
When random corny love notes start appearing in your locker, you're wondering who the hell Is taking time out of their day to think of you.
Quick Notes - Happy Valentine's Day! I got this idea while playing our Valentine's Day Playlist at work and thought I would write something. Super short but to the point, lol. Hope you enjoy!
Word Count - 849 (Told you it was short) Warnings - None! Enjoy :)
Monday That's when the first note fell out of your locker. When the small piece of paper fell onto the floor you were confused. You had all your notes, what could this possibly be? You opened it up and read the message ; Let's commit the perfect crime. You steal my heart and I'll steal yours.
"The actual fuck?" You laugh.
"Whacha you got there?" Eddie snatches the note from your hand and reads it in the most dramatic voice you have ever heard, clearly used for DM'ing only. You close your locker and lean against it. "You have a secret admirer? That's adorable." You take the note back and stuff it in your bag.
"Beats me. Probably someone playing a stupid prank."
"Or someone's in love with you."
"I highly doubt that."
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Tuesday ; They say true love hides behind every corner. I must be walking in circles.
"So, who do you think it's from?" Jonathan asks as you walk the track field for gym.
"No idea. I just find it odd. Why now? For fucking Valentine's Day?"
"Maybe they think it's the right time since it's a holiday about love."
"I still think it's a silly prank."
"Or someone is in love with you." He smiles.
"Well, I highly doubt it."
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Wednesday ; Romance is the icing, but love is the cake.
"I like this one, it has to do with food." Robin snarks, holding all 3 notes in her hand.
"That's such a you comment to say."
"What are you guys talking about?" Nancy takes a seat next to you at the lunch table.
"Someone has been leaving me stupid notes with pick up lines in my locker everyday this week."
"And you don't know who it is yet?"
"Nope."
"You have't recognized the hand writing?"
"See, this is why you're the smart one." Robin states.
"I never even thought of that, let me take a look." You examine the writing on the notes. "Yeah I got nothing. Who knows, it could be very obvious and I don't even see it."
"Or, someone is in love with you."
"Again, I highly doubt it."
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Thursday You fling your locker open and there fell a note. ; If I were a cat, I would spend all nine of my lives with you.
"Okay, that's it. I'm done with these. Thank god tomorrow is Friday."
"You haven't figured it out yet?" Eddie asks.
"Nope, I haven't. Do you think I'm stupid?"
"No, of course not. But speaking of stupid," He pulls out his math binder. "Here are the math notes you needed."
"Thanks, I'll get them back to you tomorrow. I can't believe you actually paid attention."
"Well if I want to graduate I gotta do some work, ya know?"
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Later that night you're doing homework in your bedroom and started organizing your math notes. Using Eddie's notes from earlier you flip over the page to continue note taking when you notice some scribbles at the bottom, definitely not pertaining to math. Let's commit the perfect crime. You steal my heart and I'll steal yours. ; They say true love hides behind every corner. I must be walking in circles. ; If you were a fruit you would be a fine apple ; Romance is the icing, but love is the cake. you're a 9 out of 10 and i'm the 1 you need ; well i'm here so what are your other two wishes? if you were a cat, I would spend all nine of my lives with you ; if you let me borrow a kiss I promise I'll give it right back to you.
A lightbulb goes off and you immediately reach for the love notes in the front pouch of your backpack.
"Holy shit." You whisper.
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Friday The morning bell rings as you slip a note into Eddie's locker. ; Roses are red, Violets are blue. I found out who you are, and you must admit it to me too. Meet me at the picnic table after school.
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The afternoon bell rings as you take off towards the woods to meet Eddie.
You sat on the table impatiently waiting, bouncing your leg up and down until a familiar face appears before you.
"What's this?" He asks waving the note in his hand.
"It's you."
"What do you mean it's me?"
You wave the four notes in front of him this time. "Didn't get one this morning. I beat you too it."
"That's not me."
"Stop lying Eddie."
"But it's not. Can you prove it?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"Your math notes." He looks at you confused, taking out his backpack and finding his notes. As you watch him flick through his eyes get wide.
"Holy shit." He whispers.
"Yeah I said the same thing."
"Look I'm sorry-"
"Why are you sorry? And why didn't you just say anything in the first place?"
"Because it wasn't suppose to end like this, and I didn't know how you would react. So I thought this would be a good way to ask you out. Maybe. Possibly."
You nod your head and look down to the ground.
"So?" He ponders.
"So what?" You look back up.
"Can I take you out on a date?"
You smile.
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casuallyawkardd · 10 months
Text
Dating Miguel O’Hara
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader
Summary: An overview on what dating Miguel O’Hara would be like. Starting from how you meet/get together to actually dating and the long run
Warnings: fluff, angst, age gap kinda?? I picture reader in their early/mid 20s and Miguel in his early/mid 30s
A/N: Wow, two in one day, a rare sight indeed 😂 This is SFW but like if ya’ll want a NSFW it’s here and send in requests if you have them! Or just your own headcannons I don’t care I have no one to talk about this man with🤷‍♀️
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Meeting
Miguel is a workaholic, so he doesn’t leave the Spider HQ hardly ever. He usually spends his time in his office/lab working, in the cafeteria on the hunt for an empanada and maybe in his private quarters if Lyla convinces him to take a break. Aside from going out to save the world, both his own and others, Miguel is basically a homebody....except for when it comes to one thing.
Coffee.
Miguel lives off of the stuff. His superhuman abilities can only keep him going for so long. He needs an extra boost to keep him going through the long nights. That being said, he’s very picky about his coffee and refuses to touch the liquid trash the cafeteria offers. Which is how he meets you.
You’re a college student, in your senior year actually, having spent the last three and a half years working at a small cafe for some spending money. It’s nothing special, somewhere that’s a secret delicacy to the locals of Nueva York. It’s quiet, which is what Miguel likes. It also stays open late, something he appreciates as well. 
The first one to fall is you. To you, he’s the handsome regular who always comes in ten minutes before closing, orders a Red Eye, requesting that a questionable amount of espresso shots be added to his black coffee, and grumbles a ‘thank you’ before leaving. Does he know you’re the person behind the hand that slides him his coffee? Probably not. But seeing his face every Tuesday/Thursday night is fine with you. 
Call it a middle school crush, if you will.
One night you decide to change the routine, preparing his drink before he’s even arrived. Like clockwork, the bell at the front door rings and he comes in. You throw him off as you present the coffee and tell him the total before he can get a word in. 
He finally looks at you, really looks at you. 
You think it’s the first time he’s actually lifted his head, making him even taller than he already seemed. Miguel pays, mutters the same ‘thank you’, but leaves a much more generous tip than usual. 
Catching Feelings
Things go on as usual, that is until Miguel notices that it’s no longer you serving him his drink. Whoever the new guy is, he doesn’t make the coffee like you do. It tastes shitty now. How do you even mess up black coffee???
When he finds out you switched to working mornings, he’s suddenly getting his coffee at the buttcrack of dawn. You take this as a good sign, daring to strike up conversation. You had tried in the past, but only ever received grunts as replies. To your surprise, he indulges you and even asks questions of his own.
“Why’d you switch shifts?”
You explain that you had started taking classes in the afternoon, prefering to end the day studying and doing homework rather than wiping counters and serving half awake customers. He keeps going.
“What are you studying?”
“How much longer until you graduate?”
“Any jobs lined up?”
It’s the kind of questions you’d hear from your distant relatives who don’t know you well enough to ask anything interesting. But when he does it...your stomach finds itself in knots. He’s no longer some handsome regular. Miguel is funny, in a sarcastic, blunt sort of way. When he chuckles, it rumbles in his chest. His smiles are small and brief, usually only one corner of his mouth turning up rather than a full on grin. 
Miguel doesn’t notice that you’ve wormed your way into his thoughts. It’s a slow process. The small talk building up on itself with every visit until one day he realizes he knows that when you were little, your older brother pushed you off the slide at the neighborhood park and that’s why you have a small scar on your temple. How you love your anatomy/phys class, but hate the TA that runs the lab. How it’s ironic that you make the best coffee he’s ever tasted and yet you personally prefer tea. 
Hell, even the other spiders are starting to become aware that something has him distracted. How his ‘quick coffee runs’ progressively taking longer and longer and that he smiles a little when he tosses the empty, cardboard cup in the trash. It’s all an inside joke until Peter B. opens his stupid mouth. 
“So who are they?”
“Who’s who?”
“Don’t be coy, O’Hara~”
Miguel doesn’t know what his friend is talking about until he’s alone later that night, watching his screens. He finds that he can’t focus as well as he usually does, thinking maybe he needs some coffee. The thought makes him freeze.
“....God dammit.”
Dating
It doesn’t take long before he asks you to be his partner. Not because he’s fallen ‘madly in love with you’, as Peter likes to say, the thought seeming childish to Miguel. Rather, it’s because he wants a reason to keep you around. 
Hear me out.
You go on a couple dates when his schedule allows it. Rather when Lyla/Jess/Peter convince him to touch some grass... He enjoys going to the science museum, tagging along with you to the gym and treating you to a nice dinner from time to time. But like I said....he’s a workaholic. What most would consider quality time with a potential new love interest, he views as time away from his job. Worrying that the multiverse will collapse at any minute if he’s not watching it. 
When he asks to be exclusive, it’s more of an excuse for himself to keep seeing you. He likes you, likes how he acts when he’s around you. Likes how you make him feel. Miguel wants a reason to keep seeing you and not have the reason be to satisfy his coffee fix.
It helps that you’re both busy, that way he doesn’t feel like the only one who has to take rain checks for date night. He was upfront from the beginning, telling you that he was Spiderman and letting you know what you were signing up for. That he’ll try to be attentive, especially in those crucial first months of dating, but that he wouldn’t be able to always give you the attention that you deserved.
It’s a lot to hear, but you agree to be with him. He’s too pretty to pass up, you think. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? It doesn’t work out and you break up? You’d been there and done that with past partners; it was nothing new. 
Nothing could’ve prepared you for dating a man like Miguel O’Hara.
He’s got more pros than cons, being written in the books as your first ‘mature’ relationships. The honeymoon phase is short lived, only a few weeks as you two enjoy the new relationship. He shows you around HQ, you invite him to events at your college, the typical stuff. Afterwards, you two go back to being busy, you’ve got finals/graduation/job hunting and he’s got a Spider Society to run. The result being that you call each other more often than talking in person. Miguel doesn’t do texting, you thought you were reserved with your emojis, but Miguel brings a whole new form of dry to the table. With a call, at least you can pick up on his tone. 
Miguel, from the beginning, isn’t one for PDA. Reserving the times when he holds you and kisses you breathless for when the two of you are alone. That being said, he’s affectionate in his own way. Holding doors open, remembering what you like to order from your favorite food places, standing between you and anyone he deems as sketchy. Spoiler alert, it’s anyone who isn’t a fellow spider. He cares and you know it, which is what matters. 
Future
Okay girliepops, yes that’s a gender neutral term, let’s be honest with each other. 
If you want to be a for lifer with him, it’s not gonna be an easy road. He may have more pros than cons, but the cons are a lot more severe. 
He gets absorbed in his work. He’ll go for long periods of time without contacting you. Hell. you two will probably be on and off for a good chunk of time. It’s not that he doesn’t love you like when he first fell for you; rather he struggles to find a healthy balance. He’s used to the world being on his shoulders, being responsible for the fate of the multiverse, at least that’s how he sees it. 
Normally you’d drop him like all your other exes, but you’re in too deep now. You reminisce on the good times because when things are good between you, they’re really good. 
You decide to be the push the both of you need. Even if it’s considered ‘toxic’, you give him an ultimatum. He either prioritizes you or the rest of the multiverse. Miguel scoffs at the idea at first, thinking the choice is obvious, but then he really thinks about it. Realizes that he’s as much in love with you as you are with him, arguably more so. He’s mad, but not at you. Mad at himself. Mad that the idea of you out of his life is almost the equivalent of when he lost the life he had with Gabriella. That he’d be a fool to let you slip away.
“....God dammit!”
You two get married shortly after that incident, ya’ll have been together for years at this point if you include the on and off phase of your relationship. It’s nothing fancy, just signing some papers and throwing a party with a small group of friends and family. Similarly to when you first started dating, Miguel considers the marriage an excuse to be around you more often. The voice in the back of his head that tells him to go home to sleep rather than on the platform. That reminds him that there’s something worth going home to now. 
Is he the perfect husband? God no. He’ll fall into his old habits of putting work first and you second, but he does better about it and it doesn’t happen as often as when you two were just dating. The thought of getting to crawl into bed, wrapped in your arms as he falls asleep, motivating him more than anything else to keep the multiverse safe.
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strawberryspence · 1 year
Text
It happens on a mundane Thursday night. Steve came to hang out after his shift, they didn’t smoke or drink anything because Steve still has a shift early morning tomorrow. They fall asleep tucked together in Eddie’s bed because, ya know, platonic.
It’s around 6 in the morning when Eddie wakes up. They’re facing each other, there’s a noticeable space between the two of them (because again platonic). There’s a soft yellow hue seeping through the window, the light dancing on Steve’s face. From where Eddie is laying, he can watch Steve’s sleeping face. He can count the moles, can trace the freckles scattered on his face, can see the slope of his nose, the pinkness of his lips.
And god, does he want to touch Steve’s face. Caress it, hold it, kiss ever square and inch of it.
His first mistake was moving closer, like the few inches of space between the two of them wasn’t enough. He moves closer so he can look at him better. His second mistake was letting his hand ghost on Steve’s features, hands lightly tracing moles and freckles, like an artist admiring his favorite work.
His fingers ghost on Steve’s lips. It’s always been pink, he thinks Steve actually wears lipgloss some days but he doesn’t even want to think about that right now. In a moment of weakness, his lets a finger touch it. It’s soft, just like how he thought it would be.
If he lets himself be delusional, it might feel different when he gets the chance to kiss him. But he’s so sure it will be fucking soft (and sweet, and amazing, and wonderful, god help him).
Eddie stares at him, slowly moving his hand off Steve’s face because the other might wake up any moment now and he doesn’t want to be caught touching him. He had no reason to be doing so.
But his hand doesn’t get far, Steve catching his wrist, warm hands tightening around it.
A smile spreads on Steve’s face, his eyes slowly opening. It takes everything in Eddie to not get lost in his brown eyes right now, because he literally just got caught.
“You’re being a creep, Eddie.” Steve says, his voice teasing. None of it registers to Eddie. His heart is racing too fast, his mind running and sputtering for an excuse.
“I— I— I wasn’t—“
“You just touched my lips and my whole face. Are you seriously still not gonna kiss me?”
Eddie’s eyes widen at the question, heart thumping in his chest louder than it has ever.
Steve rolls his eyes, “Fine. I’ll do it.”
And before Eddie can even process anything, Steve’s lips are on his.
Turns out he was right, Steve’s lips are soft (and sweet, and amazing, and wonderful, just like its owner).
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azullumi · 10 months
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“post-breakup” ; genshin men
summary — what occurs after the two of you had separated your ways from one another?
characters — albedo, alhaitham, diluc, kaveh, kazuha, and wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader)
tags — a sprinkle of angst, some fluff; headcanons/drabble
words — 1284
notes — word vomit (TT) this idea was stuck in my head
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KAZUHA, it was the middle of july, he loved you, and the words, “do we still know each other?”, stumbled out of your lips as you gazed at the night sky. he could not say anything to your question but you knew his answer, you both knew the answer. you were gone just like how summer had ended after that day. he thought it was normal, after all, it was just something you could call puppy love, his first, and firsts are often never meant to last. but thoughts come and go inside his head when the bitter feeling of loneliness and grief finds him on a thursday morning—he wished he had stayed.
you will always be his first love, in this universe and in every other, he will always love you even if that feeling will soon come to pass. he still loves summer, craves for it when the coldness of winter comes—but oftentimes he means summer from years ago when you were still in it. he still loves you and perhaps he was still searching for the sweet laughter that echoed inside his ear and those eyes that warmed him more than the sun; it’s the middle of july, the sun is high up in the blue sky, and he wishes he could have peeled oranges for you.
DILUC, he could still remember that moment when it ended, the way you called out to his name so gently only to say such heart shattering words in the end yet all he could do was wish you happiness even if he isn’t there to see it anymore. but he does see you even if you’re not there, he sees you in the sun that goes down the horizon and painting the skies in different hues, in the trees that stood so mighty and strong around his manor, in the butterflies and the flowers that surrounded his vineyard—you were everywhere but not nowhere beside him.
he’ll be fine, he assures himself, almost promising, and yet he still freezes up every time he hears someone with the same name as you. he knew he was over you, however, or perhaps it was just a mere bluff for himself to believe as he still wishes for you to come back even if you were just a shadow—he still had a lot of things to tell you. oh, how much he regrets sewing his mouth shut and choosing to admire you in every chance he gets, he could have told you he loved you; you still live in silence between his thoughts.
ALBEDO, he lacks intense emotions and perhaps even the understanding of it, too subtle in expressing them that makes him appear as emotionless or reserved, almost like he’s not human at all (in which he is). so when you had presented the idea or the decision to break up with him, he had agreed and just like how he sees things in a logical manner, he thought more of the events that led you to that conclusion and the consequences it will harbor in the future—it was for the better for you, he thought more of your happiness and wellbeing, but he never thought of how it will affect him.
no one will ever be able to knock the wind out of him again in a way that you do. you were once strangers to each other, he could have lived with that, he had lived without knowing you once and now it had occurred, how come he still wakes up with things to tell you? there’s the sickening feeling of unfamiliarity in his stomach despite not being foreign to loneliness, he was used to being alone, he should be used to being on his own; he just misses you, in a way that is so simple and desperate, so human.
ALHAITHAM, it happened, the two of you had outgrown each other and are now on the paths leading to a different part of your lives and there was no chance the two of you could be holding your hands as you walked down it together. and it was a mutual agreement, a decision that was made after careful consideration—he knew that he shouldn’t hold you back and you knew the same for him. but it’s 2 a.m and he just couldn’t help but wonder what could have gone wrong.
it’s the silent flashbacks that get him every night that he spends alone; and he doesn’t know if you came in the form of a nightmare or a sweet dream whenever your smile, your laughter, every inch of you haunts his sleep. it persists, stabbing into his head, burying inside his mind. it took him everything to get there and now he’s here—he could only wish that grief and absence didn’t take place of a person, of you—, it was a correlative conclusion, one that was done in the living room the two of you used to spend and share lovely moments with—he could still hear and see the ghost of you in each corner of his home.
KAVEH, he swallowed his words down just like how he did with the lump on his throat, nodding his head and agreeing to what you said even if no words past those had registered inside his mind, then the two of you have separated your ways, he watched your back knowing it was the last time he will ever see it and blinked, etching the memory of it inside his mind beside the words you had told him—except he’s there right where you left him, broken and lost.
he looks in the mirror, loses his mind a little, gets frustrated over a small mistake on his paper, he walks through the busy port of the city, he falls asleep and dreams at night then wakes up in the middle of it. it was how it is, he could never cope with your absence, could never dwell on the feeling of emptiness. his skin could no longer remember the gentleness of your caress nor could it no longer recall the words you have murmured against it, all that was left of him was the memories that stuck in his heart and mind. in which curve of his smile and the pitch of his laughter did you not understand that all he wants is to spend the rest of his life watching the sunset being reflected by your eyes?
WANDERER, is all too familiar with the feeling of abandonment, people just leaving him, and it was no wonder that you, too, would be the same as them. scoffing a “do whatever you want” before he walked away even if it left a bitter taste on his mouth. he wasn’t confident that you were coming back to him—nobody ever did—but he still hoped that you would have knocked on that door and he would have opened it and welcomed you, without not rolling his eyes, mocking you yet in a tone filled with that giddy warmth that he always feels whenever he sees your idiotic smile or hears that stupid laugh.
oh, he could call you names now, insult you, and list out every single thing he hated about you—including the song you always hum whenever you’re in the middle of doing something and the small habit that you do whenever you’re confused or distracted—but what else is there to it? what good will that do to him? he still loved you and he had to carry that weight on his fingers because he has nowhere else to put it down if not on your hands. he’s still there, waiting for you to come knocking at his front door.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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widowmaxff · 5 days
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In overwhelmed, it mentions that Y/N used to be in a dark hole and how Wanda is afraid she’d go back to it. Can you write about it? Like what happened?
hope ur ok
pairings: mom!wanda × daughter!reader (platonic)
warnings: depressed reader, cryingg, bad thoughts, and sad sad things
a/n: okay how did you pay so much attention to what i wrote in overwhelmed bc i didnt even remember writing that 😭 BUT THANK YOU for the request i literally just ramble what was in my head but hope you like it love!
HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE!
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You don't know when it started, much less why it started. Maybe a few days ago, a month ago, maybe a year ago the signs that something was wrong started to appear. It was almost as if these feelings were always there, just hidden by a layer that was slowly removed and made everything more difficult. It seemed like there were days when you could easily deal with it, maybe ignoring it or just hiding it very well, you didn't know. But there were days that were more difficult. It was more difficult to get out of bed, your appetite was barely there, you didn't want to leave your room, just stay in darkness and total silence. Even though this silence made your head spin, it was better than anyone talking and making you even more depressed.
If someone asked the people closest to you if you were sensitive, you were sure that more than half of them would say no. They would talk about how you had a frozen heart, that you didn't cry when you watched a sad movie, that you didn't fall in love with the character when watching or reading a novel, that you didn't care when someone was fighting with you. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. You felt hard feelings most of the time, including when watching sad films. Maybe you just don't like showing the sadness and emptiness you feel. It makes you feel weak, worthless, and selfish, especially selfish. You shouldn't feel this way, not when you had the perfect life: a loving mother, food on the table, new clothes, and expensive sneakers. Then why?
You didn't really care that you felt depressed, you knew that eventually it would pass, just like every other time - even if that feeling came back some time later, even worse. It wasn't like anyone noticed and said anything to you, even though you were sure most of the adults around you blamed it on teenage hormones when they saw you sulking or just isolating yourself in your room all day. Maybe a few questions like 'are you okay?', even though they knew you would respond with something positive even if everything was falling apart. But there was always someone. Someone who knew that it wasn't just teenage hormones but something that was slowly consuming you. Wanda, your mother, was that someone, and she certainly didn't let those details slip.
The first time you actually showed that you were in a depressing state was on a random Thursday at six-thirty in the morning. Wanda didn't mind much in the first moments when you refused to get out of bed, it was normal for any teenager to not be able to stand school. But when you finally decided to show up for the morning in the Compound's kitchen, she was surprised. You had big black bags under your eyes that were tired and red, looking like you hadn't slept well that night and maybe you had been crying most of it. Wanda didn't take long to ask if something had happened and if you were okay, only receiving a murmur of something like ‘'m fine' before turning back to look at the emptiness of space. Tony who was nearby joked “Maybe the red eyes are because of something she used. Don't tell me you snuck out to a party, Mini Maximoff?”, you'd laugh on any other day, even replying something like 'Yes, I did some hard drugs at a party. How do you know?', but that wasn't the case. Stark laughed to himself after saying that sentence but soon the sound of his voice disappeared when he realized that you hadn't heard him and, apparently, nothing around you.
The second time was right after a mission Wanda had done. It was only three days away from you and everything seemed different when she came back. The first thing she noticed was that you didn't run into her arms when she stepped inside the Compound, much less respond to the messages she sent you a few hours earlier. Obviously like a worried mother she went after you, not taking long to find you in your room with all the lights off, two blankets around your body and how it looked like the things in your room had been in the same place since your mother left for the mission. She turned on the light in your room, hearing a soft growl leave your lips. You were awake and conscious, so it didn't make sense for you to want to be lying down and almost sinking into your mattress at four o'clock in the afternoon. She remembered when you were little and couldn't sleep if at least one light wasn't on, now it was ironic to think that you just lived in the darkness and emptiness of your room without fear that some monster would catch you, because no monster could hurt you like depression was.
Wanda couldn't count how many more episodes like those happened and lasted for several days. She was worried, very worried. She was afraid that you would end up doing something that would hurt you, end everything. It was obvious that your mother tried to ask you what was wrong, how she could help you, but you always said that you just woke up on the wrong foot that morning and that everything was fine. Of course, how were you going to tell her what was happening if you didn't even know. There was no reason for you to feel down like that and not even the absurd desire to just want to close your eyes and not open them again. And every day that passed, this dark hole you were in would get deeper and deeper. You knew you needed to ask for help before it was too late. 
It was no longer strange when once again that week you had no will to live. You look at the clock next to your bed and realize that your mother would be coming to your room to call you for another day in two minutes and a few seconds. Just the thought of 'one more day' made you want to throw up the food you didn't even eat the day before, as that empty feeling made your hunger go away. But as much as vomiting, you wanted to cry, cry until you couldn't take it anymore. And it was no surprise when the tears started to fall and you couldn't stop. Even though you are not a loud person, trying to keep yourself in your own bubble, the sobs wanted to get out of your throat anyway.
“Darling?” Wanda didn't mind knocking on your bedroom door in the morning, since you would be sleeping, well, not at that moment. When she heard the choking sounds you were making to keep from crying, she didn't take long to run towards your body on the bed and get under your covers, pressing you against her chest giving the perfect comfort to let you know that you weren't alone. “Oh, my love.” Wanda has seen you cry, many, many times, but it was so different to see you cry as if you were drowning in a sea and needed help from someone, anyone. “It's okay, Mama is here.” With each passing minute it seemed like the tears were getting even bigger than before, but you tried to focus on Wanda's heartbeat as you placed your hand on her chest, making you feel calmer despite all the panic. 
The lullaby that starts to leave her lips and go straight to your ear makes you start paying attention to the soft melody and not your terrible thoughts. The language Wanda sang in, Sokovian, was not understood by you, but you still remembered when she sang you to sleep on the days you had nightmares. It was as if Wanda was using her magic to calm you down, even though you knew she would never use her powers on you without your permission, but her voice was so sweet that it was more powerful than any of her red magic. Your breathing becomes soft and your movements slow, as if you were choosing the right words to get rid of that moment, but with your mother there it was almost impossible to lie.
“I wanna get help,” You murmur for just her to hear, despite there being no one else in the room with you two. “b-but I don’t even know why I’m like this.” Your crying had stopped, but you still choked to say a few words. Admitting those words out loud seemed like a challenge for you, and when you said them, a weight seemed to lift off your back despite not having yet deciphered all your feelings. And Wanda knew that. She knew how hard you were to avoid looking like a weak person even if you weren't, even if asking for help wasn't a sign of weakness but rather of improvement.
Your mother kisses your head, taking a few seconds before cupping your face and looking at it. “I'm so proud of you, my angel.” You didn't see pity or lies in the expression on her face. You didn't see disappointment and much less as if you were a problem for her. “I'm glad you want to ask for help, and I'm here for it, yeah?” You felt a little guilty when you saw a tear come out of your mother's eyes, but she was still smiling. The same smile you saw when you woke up, or when you told her some good news, or even when you told her a joke. Wanda never wanted you to feel anything negative about her. She never took out any frustration on you, never made you feel bad when you got a bad grade at school, or when you accidentally knocked a glass on the floor. “I will help you with whatever you need, my love. It will be slow, but I promise that the tightness in your chest will pass, okay?”
“I trust you.” She nods before pulling you into a hug that she knew you needed more than anything at that moment. The process would take a long time until you felt well again, you both knew that, but it was never too late. It's never too late to ask for help, because it's normal to need someone to pull you out of the dark hole sometimes, it's normal to not feel good all the time. Having feelings is normal, even if sometimes they are too deep, or too shallow. You just needed to realize that you were never alone, that people around care about you and will always want the best for you. 
“I love you so much. Always remember that.”
“I love you too, Mama.”
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psyphigirl · 5 months
Text
"May I See Her?"
TW: Immobility, Health Play, Hospital Setting, "Asphyxiation"
A person is admitted to the most advanced bariatric health center, where they must be subjected to constant and intense mechanical medical care
(I'm not sure the tw list is entirely exhaustive as I don't know how to define some of the things I wrote about. Please feel free to give any suggestions you feel I need to include!)
The doctor looked at me as though I had two heads, he just didn't understand the question.
"I- I don't know. There ... there isn't a lot left to see. You didn't really ... leave us with a lot ..."
I had weird mixed feelings about how he said that. Shame, guilt, fear ... pride, wonder, lust. What could they possibly have done to her?
"You can come in about 11.00 on Thursday morning, if you really do want to see her", he said flatly
"Thank you, Doctor. I'll be in then."
I hang up and sit back on my bed. I should really be getting to bed soon but I can't bear the thought of going to sleep just yet, so I go in to her old room. Just to remember her.
The room looks so much smaller without her in it. For the first time in years I can actually stand anywhere I want without fear of standing on her flesh or on a cable or tube she needs to function. The room's been stripped almost bare from the kit I used to tend to her. The oxygen pump is gone, the feeding tube has been retired, even the fridges have been wheeled away. I can see an almost perfect outline of her rear on the wall behind her, painted with sweat into the wallpaper. Her mattress is still here, it's been crushed to about a quarter of it's normal height after years of propping up a mass measured in metric tons.
I'm almost glad to see her in a proper care center: All this tech is ancient. Held together with tape and staples. It's a wonder it failed as infrequently as it did...
That's enough remembering for tonight
...
Beep beep beep
That's the alarm. Seven o'clock. Get up, get dressed, go to the kitchen. What's in the fridge? Not a lot. A dozen eggs and half a loaf of toast should be fine. I can fit two slices per slot in the four slot toaster and have them done in two minutes. I can fit three eggs in a pan per two pans. It takes five minutes to cook them and have them done in ten minutes. Hopefully I can have this done before she wakes up-
Oh.
I turn the stovetop off and unplug the toaster. For the first time in years I don't have to center my daily schedule around caring for my helpless other half. It takes about an hour to get to the hospital. So I have three hours to kill ... somehow
...
"Oh, it's you. It- She's right this way"
The doctor lead me down a corridor, with a sign above it reading "ICU". Is it that bad? It must be. I was lead all the way down to the end of the corridor. The very last door in the ICU of the most advanced bariatric care center the fattest country in the world has to offer. I really did a number on her.
"Now. I should warn you. She's very ... fragile. You just need to be careful. Do you understand?"
"Yes, doctor, I think so"
His mouth jerks to the side and he turns away from me. I could have sworn I heard him say "I'm sure"
He opens the door and I see her.
She's nothing more than a mound of flesh, decorated by a spidersweb of wires and tubes, moniters and dials.
"Jeez, doc. Is this all really necessary?"
He looks at me with a subtle and frightening rage, "Yes. If even one of these machines failed, or one of these cables disconnected," he looks almost disappointed, "She wouldn't last long."
I don't respond. All I can do is gawk at her.
"This one here, for example", He gestures to a machine containing a series of combustion pistons, "That's her heart. There's no way her actual heart can pump blood around the rest of her body without assistance."
He points to another one, a pair of pumps under a turbine, "Those are her lungs."
And another, "That's her liver. There's no machine in here that isn't essential to her continued survival. Her body just doesn't work anymore. Technically ... she ... isn't that person in the center of this room anymore. She's ..." He struggles to find his words for a minute, "She's pretty much the room itself"
I take a minute to comprehend what that means. I'm inside her. Staring at her bare soul
"Doctor," I inquire, "Could I be left alone with her for a little while?"
He looks right through me and approaches, "Her diet is automated. Don't think you can do any more damage"
He leaves heavyfooted and disgusted at what I did to her. I almost don't blame him
"Hi dear. Can you hear? It's me."
I wait. I get no response.
"I know you may resent, or even fear me. But you're safe now, love. I can do you no harm. Now that I say it out loud I'm even sure that's entirely true. If that's your lungs, then that tube must be intake. So which tube feeds you the oxygen? This one here? Next to my boot?"
Her heart beats visibly faster.
"That's a yes. What happens if I ..."
I lightly squish the thick clear plastic tube with my heel. The rhythm of the machinery is changed, tarnished even.
Her heart beats visibly faster again.
"I like that response. See it could be fear, couldn't it ..."
I press a little deeper
"Your mouth feels dry. Your temples feel tight. Your lungs, your real ones I mean, are burning. It hurts and you're afraid."
I press a little deeper
"Or maybe. Just maybe ..."
I connect my heel all the way to the floor
"It's lust?"
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izvmimi · 5 months
Text
cw: fluff. reader and izuku are both high schoolers. reader has a vaguely described quirk. part 2.
The last thing you expected to do in the middle of the night on a Thursday was fall cleanly out of the sky. 
There were a few things that set you up for this event: one, overwhelming excitement about the new boot attachments that your friend Mei had designed for you; two, zoning out when she’d given you her long winded explanation; three, the audacity to sneak out of your dorm room in the middle of the night to use them; and four, an overwhelming fear of failure making you desperate for any advantage. 
The attachments had been secure on your costume and had been working out fine for the first few minutes of flight, and thus, you’d been confident enough to hover higher and higher, until you were far above the tops of the many trees that surrounded UA, and practicing your aim and range with your gauntlets for nearly an hour.
What you had forgotten was that your new upgraded boots siphoned energy from your gauntlets the same way your beams did, and while they were reasonably efficient, they were not infallible.
And thus they short-circuited - there was a split second between the realization that you could no longer shoot nor float before you found yourself hurtling toward the ground.
Harden, harden, harden was all you could think of for the few split seconds, and perhaps enough of your fall would be mitigated that you wouldn’t break all your bones at once. The trees were not kind enough to break your fall, and your hands grabbed frantically but caught purchase on nothing. All that was left was the loud thump, thump, thump of your blood rushing into your ears and somewhere in your panic you forgot to scream till you were just a meter above the ground.
Your eyes closed-
And your body didn’t shatter.
Your body hit something, and your breath held as you waited for pain and possibly death, which never came. Letting out a breath sharply, it occurred to you that there were arms. 
Something, someone, had caught you. 
Stunned, your eyes met with Izuku’s. Rather than say thank you, the word ‘How’ sprang forth. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, instead. 
“Y-yeah.”
There remained something shaky about your voice as he helped you onto your feet. Your head spun a tiny bit in confusion and you could feel it in your legs, or maybe it was dizziness from  having the energy drained out of you, and the last few desperate attempts to fortify your bones.
“What were you doing?” he asked, steadying you with an arm. His voice clearly betrayed concern but there was a more stern quality to it, like he was annoyed at you. Which you understood - another second and you would have been a spot on the ground and that would serve no one to find first thing in the morning. 
You tried to disrupt the miasma of near death experience with a laugh once the vertigo lessened. 
“I, uh… just found out I wasn’t as good at flying as I thought I was.”
Izuku did not laugh. On the contrary, he frowned deeply, rubbing his chin with his hand. He didn’t look at you now, but seemed to be suddenly in his thoughts, and the more stubborn and prideful part of you began to rise, wondering why he was making a big deal out of the awkward but evidently benign circumstance.
“What are you doing out here at this time of night?” you pivoted. 
“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied.
You raised an eyebrow. “So you wandered around in the woods?”
He matched your expression. “It seems popular, doesn’t it?”
Touché.
You weren’t exactly sure what to do now. Izuku had clearly saved your life and almost seemed angry about it. Rightfully so, because it was stupid and you had been lucky.
Perhaps you should thank him. You could start there.
“... Thanks for… catching me.”
Izuku didn’t reply immediately, again frowning, his bottom lip very slightly pulled between his teeth as he decided what to do next.
“If you come out here again, text me.”
You furrowed your eyebrow.
“Why would I do that?”
Izuku looked even more upset now and you quickly reconsidered your words.
“Okay, I realize how that sounds,” you laughed again, nervously. “But I won’t do it again so don’t worry.”
“You won’t fall out of the sky in the middle of the night?” he repeated.
You grimaced. “N-no?”
Again, you were not exactly sure where this conversation was taking you. He blew air from his nose as if he were sighing deeply and giving up on something, you weren’t sure what.
“You won’t because I’m staying out with you.”
Your face warmed, and for whatever reason you felt compelled to raise your gauntlets.
“I’m out of juice, so I’m probably out of commission for tonight.”
He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly. 
“Did you still want to train?” he asked. You considered, then decided to tell the truth.
“Maybe.”
He placed his hand on one of the gauntlets, voice softening. “I’ll charge them if you let me stay out with you.”
You paused for a moment. It’s not as though you could stop him from staying out with you. But why? Perhaps because you were very stupid. Perhaps because he needed something to keep his mind from racing, and keeping an idiot from dying is preoccupying enough. 
There’s a new light dusting of pink on his cheeks that underlie his freckles, you noticed. 
Perhaps it’s something else.
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captain-mj · 2 months
Text
Bender
Tried to write four different asks, got super indecisive and wrote something about 09 SoapGhost who none of the asks were about
Ghost woke up slowly and a little bitterly. His head was pounding. Mouth dry as cotton. Luckily all of his clothes were intact but there was a certain grime to them As if he had been out in the rain or maybe fell.
Something moved and he instinctively went for the knife stashed under his pillow.
"Morning, Lieutenant Riley."
"Johnny." Ghost relaxed just as his hand brushed thin air. He wasn't at the flat he lived where a knife was stashed under a pillow.
"Don't Johnny me." His Captain spat, looking pissed. "Ya come to my door. Reeking of alcohol and weed. Groveling. You take anything else last night?"
Through the pounding in his head, Simon thought through it. "Don't think so, sir."
His Captain looked at him and something like regret curled inside him, so thick it choked out his lungs. Luckily, MacTavish softened a little when he saw the look in his eyes. "Aye. Get up. You can take a shower. I don't have any tea so coffee will have to do."
Ghost sat up slowly and adjusted his mask. "What day is it?"
"Sunday."
His last sober memory was on Thursday night so not as bad as he thought. He wondered why his drunken, high brain thought this was the best place to go though.
Ghost stood. "I can shower later. Don't want to be these clothes right back on."
"Nonsense. Those are going in the wash. You can wear some of mine."
"Jo-"
"That's an order, Riley."
Ghost bit his tongue. They weren't in the field or on base. He had ever right to tell him to shove it. But no. Johnny was the one person he'd led order him around and he knew it. Took advantage of it.
So Ghost followed the fucking order. He handed Soap his clothes through the door, careful for no skin to show besides his hand and wrists. He turned the water on hot, deciding if he had to take one, he was also going to use all of Soap's hot water. It felt nice as the water worked some semblance of life back into him.
Soap must've gotten out the good stuff cause he could smell the coffee even in the bathroom. He used Soap's vanilla scented stuff and the man's loofah since he hadn't had the foresight to give Ghost something else to use.
Ghost even used his fancy hair stuff, working the "Clarifying shampoo", whatever that meant, and conditioner into his hair in turn. He wrapped a towel around himself and checked outside the door for clothes. When he didn't see anything, he called for Soap, waiting patiently.
Soap appeared almost immediately to give him underwear. "I have bandages. You injured anywhere."
Ghost's heart spasmed in his chest as he looked over his body. He slid on the underwear during his inspection. "No, I'm in good condition."
A beat of silence before Soap responded. "Don't believe you."
"Want to check yourself?"
"You offering?"
Ghost's turn to be quiet. He glanced at himself. As far as he could see, he really did look fine. If he told Soap he wasn't offering, they'd move on like nothing happened.
"That was inappropriate-"
"Yes. I'm offering." Ghost cut Soap off.
The door opened and he used the towel to dry his hair, doing his best to seem a lot more confident than he was.
Soap didn't look at him in disgust. That was a good place to start. He reached forward and grabbed Ghost's jaw gently, tilting his head back and forth. "Got some bruises."
Ghost tried to remember anything happening. "Don't think I slept with anyone."
It was a piss poor attempt at a joke, but the way Soap's grip tightened on him... a flutter ran through his chest. Close to fear, but too closely related to trust. If Soap hit him, he'd know it was cause he deserved it.
Soap swallowed hard, searching over Ghost for... something.
"Do you not like the idea of me sleeping with someone else?"
"I don't care about that." His body language told a different story. All tensed up like a bowstring. Jaw rigid.
"You purposely have me stripped to my fucking underwear, Captain. You have a death grip on me. And you look pissed. Starting to think you might like me Captain."
Soap frowned. "Course I like you, Simon." It was too honest. Too open. Ghost broke the moment, even if he didn't forgive himself for doing it.
"You promised coffee."
Soap forgave him. Course he did. "I did, didn't I? Let me get you more clothes." His eyes roamed over him one more time. Just... making sure. But Ghost was fine.
Simon wasn't. Simon wished very much he deserved the concern Johnny was showing him.
There was something firmly between them. If they just... knew how to get around it. If Ghost knew how to get around it.
Soap made him a cup of coffee. "Don't have any more benders like that."
"yes sir."
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