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#i remember seeing her trying to practice for surgery later on cos of shaking hands
lokh · 20 days
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hearing this guys british accent is more shocking than having heard an australian accent for several seasons
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pagingevilspawn · 4 years
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A New Life
currently trying to create a masterpost for all of my one-shots and now fic, so this isn’t anything new if you guys have read my wattpad stories. basically, it’s just something i never posted on here and only on wattpad. read on ao3 here
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TW// domestic violence/ abuse, abortion
She could hear the sound of her alarm clock beeping loudly, signaling her to wake up and face yet another day. She doesn't feel anything quite yet, her sense of where she was at in the world was still in a dream state. Oh, what a great dream she was having. She was at a hospital, a big- no- huge one. She was in the middle of her surgery- an appendectomy she assumed- when she looked up, catching the eyes of someone, someone she couldn't quite put a name to, but she knew that this person was smiling. And that smile? Oh, she really liked that smile, even though she couldn't remember it, nor had she ever seen it before.
She was really liking her dream.
She finally decides that it was time to open her eyes, but she couldn't.
Well, one of them at least.
It's then she feels it.
The pain.
The uncontrollable ba bump ba bump she feels throbbing behind her right eye. The pain was cursing through her, her blood, her systems. She felt it everywhere.
It was then she realizes that the pain was coming from another source as well. Her back.
Kick
Kick
Kick
She feels the tip of his expensive shoes barrel into her spine again and again as she cries out, begging him to stop.
"Paul please!" she pleads, trying to scramble her way into a sitting position before her husband can do any more damage.
But she struggles, because she forgot about the fracture of her right wrist. "Shit" she hisses out, a whole new round of pain surging threw her body from putting pressure on that one limb.
It was then that Paul stopped, towering over her broken figure, grabbing both of her wrists and pinning them above her head, so she had no way to escape his hold. "You know damn well what you did Brooke." he says venomously, little traces of spit flying onto her face.
He looks at her, his gaze so full of pure hatred and jealously. His eyes scan over her broken body. Bruises covering her stomach and back, some on the inside of her thighs. The marks make him feel a sense of pride. He was winning.
Brooke shakes her head, tears coming down her cheeks so quickly she wasn't sure is she would ever be able to get them to stop. "N-no I don't. Im sorry Paul. I-im sorry f-for whatever I did." she stutters out, choking on her own words as she feels the lump in her throat grow more and more form trying to keep her sobs at bay.
"You lying whore!" he exclaims, roughly pulling her wrists from the headboard and pushing her to the ground, causing her to let out another cry of pain as she lands on the fresh bruises on her back.
The woman whimpers, trying to crawl into the corner of the room, bringing her knees up to her chest and putting her head between them, hoping that this was just nightmare.
She hoped that the past three years were just a nightmare, and she had just yet to wake up.
But to no luck, it wasn't. It was reality. The cruel, cruel reality that she lived in.
"Who the hell is emailing you Brooke? Huh! Who the fuck is Brody?" he sneers at her, referring to the email he saw on her computer earlier that morning,
Oh no, she thinks to herself. How could she be so stupid? How could she forget to delete the email?
Brooke swallows, trying to get her breathing under control. Paul didn't like it when she stuttered. He said it made her sound too much like a little girl. "H-he is a new guy from work. He wanted to get to know everybody better, so he sent out some emails." she tells him, speaking to him the truth.
A new guy named Brody started at the Crab Shack a few days ago and was super friendly. He was a few years younger, having just turned twenty-one and was trying to get to know his fellow co-workers better. She liked him, he was nice and didn't ask her questions when she asked if he could take a few of her tables the previous day.
But she knew why she couldn't wait on those tables. It was because they were full of men. Men a few years older than her. And if Paul were to walk in on her after a long shift of his and see her taking these guys' orders, being friendly, she knew it wouldn't be pretty.
Her husband scoffs at her, looking at her like she was a piece of trash on the side of the road. "Is that so Brooke? Are you sure it wasn't just you he's trying to get to know?" he leans in closer to her face, watching with a victorious glint in his eyes as he sees her try to form he thoughts.
"Y-yes." she squeaks out. "H-he's nice. He's just trying to make friends Paul." she explains.
She watches as a new flame of anger appears in his orbs, making her curse to herself once more.
Shit, Brooke you stupid idiot.
"Oh yeah? Is he nice Brooke?" he asks harshly, picking her up off the floor and throwing her onto their bed, the grey comforter bouncing up and down as she does too.
She couldn't believe that there was a time when hearing her name roll off his tongue was a peacefully feeling. Like everything way okay when he said her name. Now, it was like someone lured ice cold water every time he spoke the six letter word.
"Is he so nice you want to screw him? Huh Brooke? Do you want to screw Brody?" he picks her up from the bed and pushes her into a wall, knocking the wind out of her.
"N-no!" she yells out, squeezes her eyes shut as she crosses her arms over her body.
Over her stomach.
Her stomach, which held her seven week old fetus. She didn't know how her baby was still alive at this point. She truly didn't know. She had somehow been able to avoid being hit in the abdomen for the past two months, since Paul seemed to enjoy kicking her in the back more recently.
"Good Brooke, because you are mine. You hear me?" he asks, physically dragging her into the living room. "Mine." he hisses at her, covering her face in his disgusting spit.
Please let me wake up. Please let me wake up.
"You owe everything to me Brooke!" he yells, practically throwing her across the room because of how harshly he shoved her. The woman crashes back onto the floor, falling into a coffee table.
Crack.
Her ribs.
"Look at what you've done now!" he roars, referring to the books and papers now spread out all over the floor of the room. He walks over to her again, grabbing her waist, ignoring how she winces at his harsh movements, "This house you live in? You owe it to me."
He traces the nightgown she had on. It was what he wanted her to always wear to bed. He wanted her to 'look like a woman and not like a homeless person'. The lace of the short, skimpy nightgown wasn't something she would prefer to sleep in, but she wore it anyways because he wanted her to. He didn't want to have to remove much when he wanted to have sex with her. "The clothes you wear? The nice, expensive clothes? You know why you have them?" he asks, tracing the thin lace with his long fingers.
"Me, Brooke." he pulls his fingers away, going to her hair and combing his hand through it. "And your food? Me. Your bills? Me. Everything you have is because of me. Don't you forget that Brooke." he stands up and shoves her to the ground, leaving her in a ball of her own pain, crying her silent tears.
Today. Today was the day she would make a change.
She waits until Paul is gone for yet another long shift at the hospital. She gets in the car, making sure to keep track of exactly how many gallons were in it. She would make sure to fill up to that amount before Paul got home. Otherwise he would know.
She drives to the hospital fifty-five minuets from their house, since the one closer is where he worked at. She cries as the OB performs her abortion, knowing that she made the right move when she schedule the appointment two weeks ago. No matter how much she had already loved this baby she knew it couldn't be born. She couldn't raise a child in a home where the father hit their mother, and potentially the children too.
She drives again. She fills out the documents. She does everything she needs to do based on a google search, making sure to clear her history. She couldn't risk him finding out. He couldn't. This was her chance. Her one chance to make it all stop.
~*~
It was time. Exactly one week after her most recent attack she knew. She knew it was time.
She waits until he leaves for work again that morning, exactly six-thirty on the dot. No later, no earlier. Always six-thirty.
She waits an extra ten minutes, making sure he wouldn't come back. He couldn't come back, not now.
It's then she packs her bags, two suitcases full of her clothes and a few of her shoes. She grabs all her necessities, her toothbrush, her hairbrush, her favorite blanket, her books. She grabs everything, shoving it into her two suitcases and large duffel bag. She goes to the kitchen and grabs some food, putting them into a backpack she found on the bottom of the hall closet.
She takes everything. She finds some his credit cards and takes those, along with the extra couple hundred dollar bills he has lying around in his drawers. She grabs her Bubby, the little tool that helped give her warm meals in her car.
If it weren't for me you would still be living in your car Brooke. That's why you don't buy the wrong milk. You owe it to me.
She shakes off his voice in her head, shoving Bubby into her bag. She didn't know why she was packing everything, but she supposed it was because she didn't know how much she would have when she got to her new home, so why not bring as much as she could and save valuable money.
She's about to grab her phone when she decides not to. She was going to leave it. He could have it tracked. Brooke puts the phone back down to the nightstand, stopping when she sees a photo.
A photo of them. Of them when they were happy. Of them before they were married. Before the beatings. Before everything. In that photo they look happy. So happy. He's looking at her like she's a pot of gold and she's smiling so wide it looks like she just found a real life unicorn.
It makes her heart hurt.
Maybe it will get better. Maybe it will stop. Maybe if you tell him, about the baby he won't do it anymore. Maybe he'll love you again.
No.
She stops the thoughts. There was nothing she could do. She used to think it would get better. Once she knew what set him off, what he didn't like. Once she knew that, it would be okay. He would have no reason to get angry at her. No reason to hit her.
No.
He wasn't going to change. No matter how much she prayed to the gods she didn't believe in, she knew. It was never going to go back to the way it was.
He said he loved her. He said the only reason he got jealous of other guys was that he loved her too much he didn't want to lose her. He said that he hit her because he loved her so much, but sometimes she just made him so mad. He just needed to hit her, to let her know why it was her fault.
No.
Today was the day. She grabbed her bags, throwing up her hair in a high, messy, ponytail as she pulls her suitcases through the front door, locking it behind her.
That day when Paul got home he would call out for his wife, only to see that she wasn't there. He would go into their room, only to see that all of her things seemed to have vanished into thin air, the only thing left being her phone, placed neatly on her freshly plumped pillow.
He would check his bank account, only to see that over $3,000 had been taken out of it total. He would be furious, throwing everything glass in the large house at the wall, knowing that his reputation would now be down the drain.
But her?
Oh no, she had never felt more free.
She was on a bus, a bus that would take her to her new home.
Seattle.
Oh Seattle, where she got accepted into Seattle Grace Mercy West's surgical intern program, one of the best in the United States. This was her new life. Her fresh start. A new beginning.
She was a few hours into her trip when she feels a presence near her. A frail old lady with a kind smile looks down on her. "Is this seat taken?" she asks.
The woman shakes her head no, signaling that the old woman could sit. The grey haired woman speaks up a few moments later. "I'm Iris, what's your name young lady?"
The woman grins brightly, a breath escaping through her lips.
"Josephine. Josephine Wilson."
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sestra-inestro · 4 years
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Just A Really Big Mistake (6/?)
Jane the Virgin!AU - Heavily based on ‘Jane the Virgin’, I do not own Jane the Virgin or the characters I write with. All rights go to the original creators. 
Warnings: Mentions of sex, almost sex, slight angst, invasion of privacy.
Idea from @whatcouldgowrong-ohthat​ 
A/N: Did I procrastinate writing this because I decided to re watch the show? Yes. Did I also write a Natasha Smut in that time? Yes. This took ages because of planning and figuring out characters but I have a clearer head and here you are, chapter six. I will be stopping this fic after Season One because goddamn I will not be able to cope with that, even though I do want to see Natasha and June co-parenting because that would be the cutest thing ever, maybe I’ll write a oneshot or something. 
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The doorbell rang through the house and May goes to answer the door. “Delivery.” The man said before dumping the gift basket on her arms and walking away again. 
May kicked the door closed and carried the basket to the table. 
“What the hell is that?” Pepper asks as she gets up from the couch. 
“I think it’s a gift from Tony.” May says as she picks a headshot of Tony from the wrapping. 
Pepper comes over and observes the basket it’s full of different assortments and gifts. May turns over the headshot to see the words ‘I’m sorry.’ written on the back. “He’s apologising again.” 
She shows Pepper and she nods. “At least he’s going to stay away from June now.” 
-
“Hi, I’d like your biggest, most grandest room, please.” Tony says with a confident smile as he checks into the Howling Winters Hotel, the hotel that Bucky owned and where you were currently working. 
-
You walked up to the bar inside the lounge and placed down a tray of empty cocktail glasses for the bartender to replace when someone called. 
“Miss?” A voice said from down the bar. 
You turned and froze in your spot, seeing the Tony Stark sitting down the bar and smiling at you. A man you’ve only ever seen on the TV shows. 
“Oh my god.” You uttered out in your frozen state. 
“Yes. It is me.” Tony flashed you his signature grin, and you swear his whitened teeth gleamed at you. 
You feel your breath hitch in your throat. 
“Please,” Tony puts his hands up and gets off his stool. “No please, just, breathe.” Tony starts breathing deeply to demonstrate and you follow him. 
“It happens all the time.” Tony explains as you keep breathing and you gleaming up at him, still not quite believing he’s on front of you. “It is sometimes very hard for normal people, like...you, to believe it when they see me in person.” He says like he’s trying not to offend you but you don’t care. 
You nod as you understand. “You know what, this is going to be really embarrassing and I’ll probably get in trouble for it later but...” You say and Tony nods along. “Can I get a photo?” You ask sheepishly. 
Tony can practically feel his heart burst. “Oh yes, I would love that very much.” 
He knew that he was going to be in deep shit with May and Pepper, but he couldn’t resist taking a picture with you, you were his daughter. 
You pulled out your phone and turned around for a selfie. As you turned on the camera, you could see him looking at over your shoulder, gazing at your face. You turn to look at him and as you make eye contact, he snaps out of it and turns to the phone. You smile at your phone as you snap a photo with him. 
You squeal as you look at the photo. “I love it! Thank you!” 
“Would you mind sending that to me on twitter?” Tony asks hopefully. 
“Not at all! I’ll do it right now.” You reassure him and tape away at your phone. He looks down and checks his phone, smiling at the photo again and immediately sets it to be his background. 
“Thank you, so much.” He says as his emotions get too much for him and he almost starts to cry. 
You notice the crack in his voice but shake your head. “No, thank you.” You smile up at him and he nods, still looking at the photo. 
“I hope you don’t mind but I really should get back to work.” You say and point towards the bar which now held your tray with fresh cocktails. 
“Oh, of course.” Tony smiles and puts his phone away. 
“It was nice meeting you, though.” You say as you grab the tray and start to walk away. 
“Pleasure was all mine, June.” He says to himself as he watches you walk away with a little skip in your step. 
If only it was because you knew he was your father. 
-
May gasps as she receives the selfie that you took with Tony. Peter turns to look at her with confusion and she shows him the picture. 
Peter raises his eyebrow at her and sighs to himself. “You guys need to tell her soon. Because if you don’t, it looks like he will.” 
May glared at Peter but she knew he was right. Even though he was a little cling-on that wasn’t going to leave the nest anytime soon, he was incredibly smart and very loyal. He helped May and Pepper this morning with Tony and fooling you, they’ve got to tell you. 
-
You were getting ready for your get together with Natasha when a staff member asked you to take a dry cleaned dress up to their suite.
With haste, you carried it up and knocked before opening the door. 
“Hello?” You called through the suite. No one answered. “Natasha?” You tried again. 
When you got no response, you went to place the dress on the bar right next to the door when you had an idea. 
You saw Natasha take a pill the morning, and with no one in the suite right now, it would be the perfect opportunity to check if she were taking any drugs you would be worried about. 
You shake your head at yourself for even thinking about it and mentally yelled. But this was just too perfect of an advantage. Would she lie to you if you asked her? You don’t know. You fought with yourself for a few seconds before your feet carried you into the room. Seeing the massive master bedroom, you saw that the wardrobe doors were open and vanity with makeup sat against a wall. 
Walking over, you saw an orange pill bottle sitting on the vanity and you picked it up to look at it. As you observed it, you see something move from the corner of your eye and you look into the mirror, seeing Natasha standing near the wardrobe doors with her hands on her hips. 
You yelp and drop the bottle, whipping around to face her. 
“Oh my god. I am so sorry, Natasha.” You start, trying to calm your poor heart from the fright. Yep, this is what you get for snooping. 
“I knew we had a meetup today, just didn’t think it was going to be in my bedroom.” She says with a tone as she walks towards you with an arched eyebrow. 
“I, uh-“ You raked your brain looking for a reason and an excuse to come up with. You could easily lie and blame it on the hormones or the pregnancy jitters that made gave you a headache. 
But you sighed. “I’m sorry Nat. I just saw you outside the crime scene earlier and I saw you take a pill.” You explained. “Snooping was not the best option, but I just had to know that you were...” you trail off your sentence, trying your beat not to offend her. 
“Using?” She suggested, her brow still arched to her hairline. 
You bite your lip as you cringe. You felt so ashamed of yourself right now. 
“Well, I’m not. Just to clarify.” She bent down and picked up the bottle. She showed you the label. “They’re Xanax pills.” 
You left out the light bit of air you were holding in about the pills. 
“I was prescribed them two years ago when my husband was diagnosed with cancer. I’ve only taken three of them. One when I got them, one when he went into an eight-hour surgery and another one today after his best friend died.” Nat looks at the pills solemnly as she spoke. 
You shifted in your spot uncomfortably. “I’m really sorry, Nat. I can’t begin to even think of-“
Natasha raised her hand and stopped you from talking. 
She looked up at you and you swallowed, nervous at what she was going to do after you invaded both hers and her husband’s privacy. 
“I understand.” She says simply. 
You frown at her. “You do?” 
She nods. “Mhm. You’re carrying our baby through pure accident and I can understand wanting to make sure you’re giving it to the perfect people.” She gives you an understanding smile. 
You smile back at her, thankful that she wasn’t going to get you fired. 
“I actually want to show you something.” She says before grasping your wrist gently and leading you out of the master bedroom and down the hall, into another room.
You stop at the door as you see the layout of a nursery. 
“I was going to put the crib near the window but Then I thought that can be harmful in case of a storm or an intruder picking the wrong window.” Natasha explained as she went around the room, touching all the baby furniture and smiling down at it. 
Looking at the beautifully set room, you started to tear up. 
Natasha turns and sees you starting to cry. “Is it all too much?” She asks you, concerned. 
“No. It’s perfect.” You nod and sniff. “I’m officially hormonal.” 
You say and give a laugh as wipe at your face. 
“I hope this gives you to reassurance you need.” Natasha says, walking back to you in her beautiful red bathrobe that matches her hair, and you wonder how she is so effortlessly beautiful. “And please, instead of stressing yourself when you have a doubt, just ask me.” She said in a soft voice and placed her hands on your shoulders. “I won’t bite.” 
You nod and smile at her. “I’m sorry if I ruined our coffee date.” 
Nat huffed and shook her head. “It’s okay. I guess you’ve seen the best thing that I could offer as far as helping through the pregnancy. You never have to worry about what colour to paint to baby walls.” She says as you look up at the walls. 
“You’re right.” You say. Slightly sad on the inside. A part of you wanted to help pick out the colour of the walls and the type of crib, but you have to remember that this baby has an amazing family to come to. 
You shake and sigh, wiping at your face one last time. “Well, I’m gonna go end my shift and then come back up and have coffee?” 
“Of course, I’ll start brewing.” Natasha says with a smile.  
You leave the suite and pull out your phone to text Steve. 
You were right. I am hormonal. 
He texts back almost immediately. 
No, I’m sorry I was out of line.
You really weren’t. I just cried at the sight of a nursery. 
You bite your lip before texting more. 
I might’ve also snooped in their room and found Natasha’s pills. 
You did what?!
Yep. I was worried and thought I was alone. But it’s okay, she’s okay. I’m about to have coffee with her, are we still on for tonight? 
I wouldn’t miss it for the world, I’ll meet you at the room ;)
You put your phone down and did a little skip, excited that everything was falling into place. 
-
After your coffee date with Natasha, you dress yourself up and head to the 11th-floor suite you had booked for both you and Steve. 
You round the corner and see Steve standing and waiting at the door for you. 
You give him a smile as his eyes trail over your body. You put on a nice dress for tonight and you wanted to impress him. 
“You look beautiful.” His voice is low as he drinks you in. 
“Thank you.” You say quickly before stepping up to him and wrapping your arm around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. 
Steve grasps your hips and pulls you against him. 
The kiss is so passionate that you almost feel your knees melt. His tongue softly massages against yours and you moan into his mouth. 
“Maybe we should get inside.” Steve mumbles against your lips. 
“Yeah, I think we should.” You agree and let go of him. 
He also lets you go and steps back as you open the door with the key card. 
Opening up, you see the nicest room you’ve seen besides the penthouse suite. 
The room expanded further than you could see and the bed was tall and large. 
“Holy crap.” You breathed out as you observe the room. 
Two arms circle your waist and lips caress your neck. “This is perfect.” Steve murmurs against your skin. 
Goosebumps grow across your neck and down your arms at his touch, his breath fans across the back of your neck and you feeling your chest swell and your lower belly grows hot. 
You turn to him and look him in his piercing blue eyes, pulling him down to you again and reattaching your lips. 
His big hands grab your waist and pull you against him again, travelling down your back and around your backside, giving you a firm squeeze. 
His grip made you squeal and giggle, letting his tongue enter your mouth and hoist you up and wrap your legs around his waist. 
With you in his stronghold, he carries you over to the bed and drops you onto the covers. You yelp as you hit the covers and Steve falls to land on top of you, hovering just above you. 
“I love you.” Steve whispers to you, just looking into your eyes.
Your hands caress over his cheeks and across his jawline, feeling his stubble scratch under your fingertips and the heat of his skin in your hands. “I love you too.” You whisper back to him. 
Steve’s brows crease in what you can only say was love and he leans down to capture your lips again. 
You pull his body down against yours and your legs part to let him closer to you. Your knees cage him to you and your dress rides up to your hips. You moan against his mouth and your fingers move down to lift his shirt over his head. He flings it to the side before going to pull down the straps of your dress. 
“You sure this is what you want?” Steve sits up to ask you. 
You open your mouth to answer when suddenly the fire alarm blares through the entire hotel. You sat up fast and your forehead collided with Steve’s in a clash. 
Steve groans, and sits up clutching his head. 
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” You groan, clutching your own forehead. 
“No, it’s okay.” Steve says with his eyes squeezed shut, rubbing his head. “Is it a false alarm?” 
“I don’t know, I haven’t heard anything about it.” You crawl over to the side where you saw his shirt fly. “We should probably leave.” 
You find his shirt and throw it back at him, and even though you wanted him to lay back down, he caught the shirt and covers his toned torso back up. 
“C’mon.” He says and grasps your hand, leading you out of the room again. 
You feel very solemn, looking back at the room, your moment with Steve had just been whisked away and you are now being dragged down the fire exit stairs with Steve. 
You guys make it out of the hotel and onto the lawn grass where all the residents were standing. 
“I should probably check it out.” Steve said with a frown as he spotted some police cars. You nod and let him go over. 
“Hey.” Bucky’s voice said behind you. 
You turn and see him, looking frustrated. “Hey. What happened?” 
He shrugs. “Someone pulled the alarm but I don’t think that there actually is a fire.” He sighs, clearly annoyed but he fact everyone had to evacuate for nothing. 
“You had a memorial party for Sam tonight didn’t you?” You ask him, trying to get his mind off it. 
“Yeah,” He sighs again and stuffs his hands in his pockets. Bucky thinks for a moment but smiles. “It was awesome. Very Sam.” 
“What about your father wanting to distance himself from bad publicity?” You asked, glad they threw a party. 
“I guess it would’ve been worse if word got out that my father ignored the fact that he was my old college roommate.” Bucky smiles down at you proudly. 
You smiled back up at him. 
“I’m glad that you did that.” You say. 
“Thank you, and thank you again. Your judgeyness was what helped.” Bucky places a hand on your shoulder and once again, you could feel your heart racing at his touch. 
“Hey,” Steve said from behind you, causing you to whip around and knock Bucky’s hand off your shoulder. “The guys say it was a false alarm.” Steve says with a firm tone, keeping his eyes hard on Bucky. 
“Yeah, I suspected that. I’m gonna go file these guests back into their room.” Bucky says and waves you goodbye. 
You and Steve hover for a moment before moving over to a bench that was away from the crowd that was slowly dissipating. 
“We really almost did it back there.” Steve said as he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. 
“Yeah, we really did.” You laugh slightly, thinking about it. 
“If the fire alarm didn’t go off, do you think you would’ve gone through with it?” Steve asked and you thought about it. 
You felt safe, warm and calm with him. In the moment he was on top of you on that bed, you couldn’t have thought of anyone better to do it with. 
“Yeah,” You look at him. “I would’ve. Because I trust you and I will be glad when I can finally have sex with you.” Your words make you both laugh. 
“That’s why I have an idea.” Steve says. You look at Steve in curiosity. “Why wait to get married? We know what we want and we know that even though you don’t want to wait anymore, you didn’t say that you were going to wait until marriage.” Steve takes a pause and you stay silent but encourage him to keep going. “Let’s get married now.” 
“Like right now?” You ask, your voice high. 
“No, not right now.” Steve chuckles. “But now like, next week.” 
“Oh my god.” You say to him. “I think yes!” You say happily.
Steve’s face lifts happily. 
“Let’s do it!”
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alounuitte · 4 years
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cactus blossoms
(or, some can only bloom with water from a desert sky.)
Adam needs some support while he recovers from a surgery, and Shiro volunteers to be his best friend's roommate for the summer after their first year in the Garrison. Somehow, it turns out he's not the only one Adam gets a chance to get closer to, and an operation isn't the only thing he's recovering from. (pre-relationship, but no romance will be in this.)
Chapter 3.
Adam could be a statue he’s standing so still, staring at the floor outside of Lauren Montgomery’s office, his feet together and his shoulders set. 
“Think you gotta put your chin up if you’re trying to stand at attention,” Shiro says lightly as he approaches. His head snaps up, his hand jerking as if to salute, and he lets a slow breath out through his teeth when their eyes meet. 
“Asshole,” he hisses. “Don’t scare me, I’m already on edge.” 
“Why?” Shiro asks, bemused. “Montgomery’s cool. She hardly yells or anything.” 
“I’m not scared of people yelling at me!” Adam snaps, adjusting his glasses. “Are you here to help me, or just make fun of me?” 
“Sorry,” Shiro says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to make fun. You ready?” 
Adam shrugs almost imperceptibly, his mouth twitching at the corner. “As much as I can be,” he says, and steps forward to knock on the door. 
“Just a minute,” Montgomery calls, and the door opens a moment later. “Hi, Weismann,” she says, smiling, and glances over at Shiro. “Shirogane. How can I help you boys?” 
“Um,” Adam says, quailing visibly. “I - I wanted to ask - if there’s, um - can I, we, can we come in?” 
“Of course,” she says, frowning slightly, and steps back from the door. “Have a seat, both of you, make yourselves comfortable.” 
Adam doesn’t look comfortable at all as he sits down at the edge of the chair, his spine rigid and his head down. Shiro takes the chair next to him and almost reaches to put a hand on his shoulder, but thinks better of it. 
“So, what did you need to ask me, Weismann?” she asks, surveying them both over the rims of her glasses. “I’m here to help.” 
“I was —“ Adam begins, and his voice breaks; he swallows hard and clears his throat. “I was hoping you would...do me a favor.” 
“Well, I’ll see what I can do,” she says cautiously, her frown deepening. “What is it?” 
Come on, Shiro thinks desperately, hoping that if he wills it hard enough Adam will remember that they went over this, he knows what to say already, he practiced for it all last night. 
Adam takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. 
“I’m supposed to be having a procedure done this summer, but I wanted to stay on base for extended education,” he says, as if he’s reading it from a textbook. “The recovery is short, but intensive, so I’m required to have a temporary medical assistance form signed. Shirogane already volunteered and we submitted the form, but it was rejected because he doesn’t have summer residency yet, and I can’t wait for his petition to clear.” 
He swallows hard again and lifts his head to look up at her, his shoulders trembling slightly. 
“I was wondering if you would be able to co-sign,” he finishes. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but we can work out housing in the meantime so you won’t have to be involved at all, I just need a signature this week so I can schedule the operation.” 
Montgomery blinks at him and he quickly ducks his head again. 
“If that’s okay, ma’am,” he adds, very quietly. 
“I could do that,” she agrees, pushing her glasses up. “I know if you can’t get a procedure in over the summer, recovery might cut into your training next year, and I’d hate to see a young man as bright as you falling behind.” 
“Really?” Adam asks, looking up slowly.  “You - you’ll really do it?” 
She nods. “I’ll see what I can do to help sort out your housing, too,” she says. “For that matter, I don’t live on base myself; if I apply for quarters this summer for the purpose of your medical assistance I’m happy to let you boys stay there.” 
“Oh, nice,” Shiro says, grinning. 
“You’ll still have to petition for summer residency so your keycard stays active, and commissary knows they have to feed you, Shirogane,” she says. “I’d do it today, if I were you, God only knows those papers take time to review.” 
“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees. 
“You have your form, Weismann?” she asks. 
Adam is still staring at her mutely, open-mouthed, but when he hears his name he seems to shake himself a little and nods. “Here,” he says, digging his tablet out of his bag, and pulls up the blank form again. 
“Excellent,” she says warmly, and takes the tablet to sign. Shiro finally reaches over to put his hand on Adam’s shoulder, beaming at him, and Adam manages a faint, shaky smile in return. Montgomery offers his tablet back to him, and he takes it. 
“Thank you, Commander,” he says, looking dazed. 
“Don’t do that,” Montgomery replies, giving him a stern look over her glasses. “If you have to be formal, Professor is just fine.” 
He nods, swallows hard as he signs his name under hers. “Yes, ma’am. I appreciate your help.” 
“Well, if you really want to thank me, take care of yourself so you’re in top form by the fall,” she says with a wry smile. “Is there anything else I can help you with right now? If not, I guess I’d better get in touch with residence management.” 
“No, ma’am, that’s all, thank you,” Adam says, getting to his feet, and salutes sharply before leaving her office, Shiro following on his heels. 
“I told you we could figure something out,” he says as soon as the door closes, bouncing on his toes in his excitement. “We’re even gonna get to stay in officer’s quarters, how cool is that?” 
“I - I can't believe…” Adam says, and laughs breathlessly, passing a hand through his hair. “She actually agreed to that? She wanted to help?” 
“Uh, yeah,” Shiro says. “Plenty of people want to help if you just ask them.” 
He laughs again, sounding a little hysterical. “Wow,” he manages. “This is actually happening.” 
“Yeah!” Shiro agrees. “I’m gonna go get the residency petition forms so I can—Adam?” 
His heart drops like a stone in still water as he sees Adam slump back against the wall and realizes how pale he looks, his face still frozen in an awkward half-smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I - I -“ he stammers, and swallows, his shoulders drawing in. 
“Whoa, hey,” Shiro says, rushing to his side. “You need to sit down?” 
He nods, and from right next to him Shiro can hear his breath coming quick and uneven. 
“Okay, you’re okay,” Shiro says. “I’m gonna grab your arm, okay? You think you can make it to the back steps? It’s just around the corner from here, that way no one’s gonna bother us.” 
Adam nods again and lets him pull one arm around his shoulders, leaning against him slightly as he heads down the hall and ducks into the stairwell. He can feel how badly Adam is shaking, hear the hitch in his breath when he chokes back sobs, and his chest aches with sympathy. 
“Alright, here you go,” he says, sitting down carefully on the top stair and ducking out from under Adam’s arm. “Take a couple deep breaths for me, can you do that?” 
Adam shakes his head and wraps his arms around himself, pressing his face against his knees. “I - I’m sorry,” he manages, his voice a whimper. “I don’t know why - why I’m -“ 
“Hey, it’s okay,” Shiro tells him, careful to keep his tone calm and steady. “You don’t have to apologize, just try to breathe.” 
His breath catches and he sobs softly, curling up tighter. “Stupid,” he whispers, his voice muffled. “I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t -“ 
“It’s not stupid,” Shiro says. “What makes you think that?”
Adam shakes his head again, unable to answer. Shiro closes his eyes, focusing on his own breathing, and gradually Adam’s slows to match with his. 
“You okay now?” he asks after a few moments, glancing over at him. 
“Yeah,” Adam manages, sitting up, and takes off his glasses to rub his eyes with the back of one hand. “Sorry about that.”
“Hey, cut that out,” Shiro tells him. “Nothing you need to be sorry for.”
He laughs weakly, cleans the lenses of his glasses with the cuff of his jacket before putting them back on. “Pretty silly to have a panic attack after I already know everything’s gonna be okay, though,” he says. 
Shiro shakes his head. “I mean, you were already kind of having a panic attack before we talked to her, right?” he points out. “Just because you pushed through it to get something done, doesn’t make it go away.”
Adam stares at him as if he’s speaking another language. 
“Anyways, um,” he says, fumbling for something else reassuring to say. “I think you handled it great. And it sounds like everything’s gonna work out okay, right?”
“Yeah,” Adam agrees, and finally starts to smile again. “I guess you’re right.” 
Shiro grins and pulls himself to his feet, offering Adam a hand to get up. “What do you think about getting some dinner?” he says. “I can start filling out my petition forms while we eat.” 
“Sounds great,” Adam says, and takes his outstretched hand. 
“How long do you think it’ll take for them to approve Montgomery’s signature on your thing?” Shiro asks. “Are they going to schedule you for surgery right away, you think?”
“God willing,” he says fervently, and laughs. “I kind of can’t believe it’s going to happen.” His hands flutter at his sides, frantically joyful, before he shoves them in his pockets. 
“It’s gonna be great,” Shiro says, beaming. His own hands move restlessly in front of his chest, and he doesn’t bother trying to still them. They’re done with classes for the day, and he doesn’t need to look professional now, so he doesn’t care if the whole world can see his excitement. 
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bert-thefrog · 5 years
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Dirty Little Secret - Part 2 - Bryce Lahela/Harper Emery
*Part 1 here*
I’m beginning to realize it’s very hard to go back to ‘normal’ after you drunkenly kiss and share a bed with your co-worker. Every look feels loaded, every accidental touch is electric. But maybe Bryce doesn’t feel the same. Maybe this is a regular occurrence for him and his bosses. I’d ask Tanaka for advice but I don’t he’s ever had this experience and I really don’t want to tell anyone what I’ve done. “So we’re agreed? Surgery is our best option.” Ethan’s voice cuts through my thoughts, dragging my away from my reverie before I can begin replaying the image of Bryce stepping out of my shower, water droplets running down the golden planes of his chest, towards the V-shaped lines above a low slung white towel carelessly wrapped around his hips and what’s underneath. Dammit Harper, I shake my head as Ethan eyes me suspiciously. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Peachy.” I flash him a quick smile as he and Yannick exchange a look across the table from me. “Alright then. We’ll operate as soon as there’s a theatre free.” Yannick nods his head and leaves my office; but Ethan remains. His expression unreadable as he watches me. “You’re distracted.” He notes, there’s a hint of accusation in his tone, scratching his beard with a single long finger as I avoid meeting his eyes. “Just thinking.” I shrug, letting my hair fall across my face to try and shield myself from his analytical stare. “Alright then. I’ll see you later.” He rises, brushing away an imaginary crease in his already straight trousers. But that’s Ethan for you, always perfect. Composed and put together at all times. Sometimes I envy him, most of the time I worry about him.
———
I can practically feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull as I finish surgery. A group of interns were allowed to watch the tumor removal and of course he was one of them. “Is anyone here willing to demonstrate how to close up the incision?” Dr. Yannick questions , and I swear the sea of eager hands raising in the air creates a breeze. “Dr. Choi, why don’t you.” I offer, allowing the young doctor to take over under Yannick’s expert eye and walking out of the OR. It’s been a long day. I sigh to myself, stepping into the scrub room to peel off the blood spattered warm up coat I have on. “I can feel you watching me Dr. Lahela.” I warn him, hearing the door click as he enters.
“You’re that aware of my presence?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” I want to be scornful towards him but I can’t quite meet his gaze.
“Do I make you nervous?” Oh my god, he’s so close to me, I can feel the heat radiating off his skin, if I turned around now we’d be right against one another, just like the other week. “Hardly Dr. Lahela.” I roll my eyes, side stepping him and making my way to my office down the hall. He follows me, thumbs looped in the pockets of his scrubs as he steps into the office behind me, pushing to door to with his foot. “Really boss? That’s why you freeze every time I enter a room? Why every time we touch; you panic like you’ve just been burnt.” He’s laughing as he says all this but there’s a hard edge to his words as he backs me against the desk.
“Bryce..”
“Tell me if you want me to stop.” His hand lingers on my thigh as I end up perched on the desk, his fingerstips tracing lightly over my skin, teasing me. His other hand is on my face, the thumb running along my cheek towards my lips. Catching his thumb playfully between my teeth, my breath hitches slightly as his hand trails further under my skirt, fingers edging closer to the apex of my legs. “Still want me to do more than kiss you?” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips against the sensitive skin on my neck. “Not here.” I gasp, pushing his hands away and pulling the hem of my skirt down to a more appropriate length before hopping down from the desk and heading for the door. “Well? Are you coming?” I glance back over my shoulder and he grins, loping after me on long legs.
———
“Leave your shoes at the door.”
“You didn’t say that the other night.”
“I don’t remember most of the other night.”
“Touché.” He concedes, slipping off a pair of orange crocs and padding through the hallway with me into my kitchen.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
“I’m good thanks.” He shrugs, leaning against the doorframe looking almost awkward, crossing and uncrossing his ankles.
“Don’t get shy on me now Lahela.” I tease and he laughs, taking a step towards me to wrap me in his arms.
“Me? Shy? Never.” His lips are soft against mine, hands roaming down my body to cup my ass, pulling me tight up against him. Catching his lip between my teeth he moans and I feel him harden against me. “My room. Let’s go.” I take his hand in mine, almost disappearing in his much larger palm as I lead him up the stairs.
———
“What did we just do?” I groan against his bare chest later, the both of us lying naked beneath my sheets.
“Well I believe the grownups call it having sex.” Bryce quips back at me earning a smack to his arm.
“I’m serious.” I try not to laugh and fail as he pulls me closer, so I’m nestled safely in his arms. His fingers lazily trace shapes across my back and I can’t help but relax, sighing softly.
“Do you regret it?” He questions me a little while later, breaking the peaceful silence we’ve slipped into. I hesitate, thinking over what we’ve just done. Even if I say yes, there’s no going back from this. I can’t erase everywhere his hands have been, the feel of his lips. Do I even want to?
“No. I don’t think I do.” I finally admit, causing him to smirk.
“Good.” He pulls me up on top of him, his hands kneading my thighs as I straddle his hips.
“Aunt Harper?” There’s a voice from downstairs, startling us both.
“Just a minute!” I yell, hopping out of bed and off Bryce, grabbing my clothes as I go, Bryce is astonishingly quiet, almost sliding under the covers in a futile attempt to hide.
“I just came to get the last of my stuff.” Aurora shuffles awkwardly at the foot of the stairs as I run down to meet her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah yeah, I’m fine.”
“Okay then.” She eyes me suspiciously, the two of us say nothing for a long moment. Each watching the other.
“Come on. I’ll help you get those boxes.” I force a wide smile on my face and lead her down the hall to where her bedroom used to be, my heart hammering in my chest. Stay upstairs. I will Bryce silently. Aurora and I gather the last of her things and head out the door to where some of her friends are waiting in a car. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She cocks her head at me as we stand together at the open trunk. “I’m fine why do you keep asking?” I laugh, it’s too high pitched, too obviously fake to fool her. She raises her eyebrow at me, deciding not to question me any further. “I’ll see you later then.” She shrugs, sliding in the passenger side so she and her friends can drive away.
———
“That was close.” Bryce laughs from my bed as I re-enter the room.
“Not funny.”
“It is a little bit. Now where were we?” He reaches out, grabbing my waist and pulling me onto the bed with him.
“Where do we go from here?” I stop him as he begins planting kisses along my jaw.
“Where do you want it to go?” He rolls onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze up at me seriously.
I have no idea
*tagging @lilyofchoices @msjpuddleduck @lady-kato @dr-casey-lahela @hopelessromantic1352 @rookie-ramsey @chasingrobbie @itsfabrayic @omgjasminesimone @zeniamiii @ethanramseyposts this was a whole lot of nothing and I apologize for that.*
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gispi-blog · 7 years
Text
50 Shades..
Last night was a night for the books. A co-worker/friend invited me several months back to a male review. She encouraged me to come out even though it wasn’t my kind of thing, to begin with. I even provided the disclaimer, “I will be super uncomfortable but I will go to experience it.”
After several months, the night finally came. I drove 10 miles after work to wait outside the unopened venue. I sat on a bench with a homeless man sitting opposite of me who had wandering eyes on the street. I was in a town that I wasn’t very familiar with, out in public for people to see, along with other passersby. To make myself feel more contained I occupied myself on my phone and started to panic when the venue opened and the ladies started to file in. 
The friend who invited me said she was 5 minutes away. She turned up an hour later than anticipated. Each minute contained short bursts of fear, anxiety, and at one point defeat. I was considering my option of just leaving. Once I started to wonder if I should, she finally showed up. 
I was one of a party of 7. She ushered us up into VIP, also paying to cover charge to upgrade. Once we were settled in the nightclub with loud pumping music, shaking the folding chairs she wanted to get drinks. I went with her to get out of the forming crowd who are all anticipating the guys to hit the stage any minute. The guys at this point were all over the dance floor and in other parts of the club mingling, selling their hot seat cards and taking photos.
Before I proceed, you should know that I have generalized anxiety with fits of social anxiety when it comes to public speaking, meeting people, or just sitting in a room with more than 2 strangers. Needless to say, I was basically relying on a woman in the row ahead of me who I met briefly outside and the friend who brought me. I tried to be cordial and introduce, or make small talk if I could. At one point I felt like I didn’t belong. All the girls there were dressed in something cute, fashionable, sexy or just more primped than myself. I was in a horizontally striped blouse with a pop of teal green towards my collar bone and black slacks with ankle boots. Luckily on the drive, I added a lipstick to go with my smoky eyeliner that was smudged from the days wear.
Besides their appearances, their confidences varied, but the overall majority were swaying their hips to the music or taking selfies with their squad with drinks in hand. I sat quietly in my seat and sipped the cranberry vodka and just enjoyed the vibrations and loud music. It made me wish that I went to clubs still. 
Ever since I turned 22 and went through my last bought of severe depression I ended my relationship with clubbing / partying. After I sorted that depression out, I met my now boyfriend and renounced needing to go to clubs, as I never felt like I fit in, being an (in my opinion) unattractive fat girl.
The friend new about my anxiety and depression and constantly checked in on me. She noticed I was quiet and not really vibing with the music like the rest of the women in the club was. I reassured her that once I get into it I will be all the way in. It takes some time for me to get comfortable in an environment that I’m not too keen on, and alcohol usually helps with that.
The MC was on stage and the show started. I wouldn’t say many of the guys were hot. Yes, they were ripped. Yes, they were attractive. Yes, they have some appeal. Only one stood out to me. Mike Xavier. When my friend purchased a hot seat, she was practically begging me to join her on the stage. I obliged but said that I wanted the one I’m more interested in. Since this was my first rodeo I didn’t bring any cash, and only had cards. I tried paying with my card and it almost didn’t go through.
In my head, I was hoping that the transaction wouldn’t go through, haha. But by the will of God, it went through and I got a random playing card which will determine when that round of girls go on stage. My mentality when I must face the music is, “Well, fuck it. You have to do it now, no matter how under-prepared you are”. 
My friend was int he first round with Kai, the hunkier slightly older man from Hawaii. Something worth noting is that my friend is almost 6′ tall and is also a plus woman. She is top heavy, not too much on the bottom. We are opposites and I’m about 4″ shorter than her. He picked her up when she was spotlighted and was wrapped around his waist while her squat and popped her up in the hair. She looked fabulous, and I was hoping that if that was in store for me that I would look just as gorgeous as her.
The next round was being called and I was to be in the round after that. At that time I decided I needed to go to the bathroom just in case if I am jostled too much I don’t. I start to make my way to the bathroom when I hear that they didn't have any girls with the card they were calling. They proceeded to call my card. I had a mini heart attack when I could distinguish that they were calling my card. I ran from the back of the crowded club and pushed my way through VIP and ran to my friend who was holding my card. I snatched it from her and got up on stage.
There was no turning back now. I sat there and the rest of the women seemed nervous or uncomfortable. I was trying to look super into it because I know I was projecting being frigid and stiff. I kept my eyes off of the audience and only made eye contact with my friend sitting in the 2nd row. The guys rotated and gave us lap dances while they pulled the others into the spotlight. The women next to me all were screaming and seemed to be playful but uncomfortable. When each guy came by and ground his butt on my lap, shove my legs open so he can stand on my chair and dry hump the air in front of my face & chest I participated in grabbing their butt or feeling this thigh or touching their chest. Most of the men had to place the others women's hands on them and I was the only one grinding back in my seat along with them or grabbing them. But I did not grab any of their junk, though it was said you could in the beginning.
It was then my time in the spotlight. The medium build short haired blonde said to be to jump, and I did as quickly as I could. Instantly I was self-conscious because I am a big girl who was center stage, legs wrapped around this guy’s torso as he squatted and pumped me back in the hair while my thighs slapped on his. He was shirtless and was sweating a bunch, which caused me to feel like I didn’t have a grip on him. I thought at one point I was going to fall back onto the stage in front of hundreds of people. Before I knew it, he put me down, and I was back in my seat. I stuffed dollar bills into his jeans before he ran backstage and we were told to return to the audience.
I noticed my friend had been videotaping the whole thing and I was hoping to get a glimpse of it at one point. All her friends said I looked good up there and was the only one basically enjoying myself. After I told them about how I thought I was going to fall from not having a grip I left for a long line in the women's restroom.
In that line, two “hot” girls who were tipsy and vibing off themselves in the mirror noticed me and in a fake chill voice complimented me and said, “I see you girl”. I wasn’t sure if they meant it or were mocking me. They were size 2 and size 4 girls you find on Instagram posting provocative photos for likes and follows. I decided to go along with it and be humble and not paranoid (thanks, anxiety). After the long line and a much-needed bathroom break, I made it back to my seat.
The rest of the night I was whooing at the guys then they did some awesome moves. I enjoyed the rest of the evening through my head was pounding from an underlying headache which started in the morning. By the end of the night, we were outside and able to take photos with the guys. I wanted a photo with the guy I didn’t get a dance with, but he was obviously the main hunk and everyone was lining up with him.
I instead last minutely before they were to run inside got a picture with the long-haired Taylor who did give me a lapdance while on the stage. My phone was dead at the time, so my friend took the photo. Now I had to wait. When I got home my supportive husband asked how was it, knowing that this was my first time to anything like this. I told him that I was on stage and told him about my spotlight time.
Then I mentioned that my friend took a video of it. He said he was okay not seeing it. Part of me wanted him to see it because I wanted him to know I did something out of my comfort zone, and that he would hopefully be proud of me. He still declined. 
It wasn’t until today when I received the video that my confidence took a major hit. Remember, the stage is at least 3 feet off the ground. The angle the video was captured did nothing for me, and then I seen the short haired blonde somewhat struggle for balance when putting me back down. On top of that, in my head, I felt like my husband thinks that I did something compromising or untasteful and that’s why he doesn’t want to see it.
Now after spending the last 45 minutes combing through the in-the-moment thoughts vs the reflecting on it all vs. video thoughts, I am stuck in my head trying to not feel like a total fat cow. I looked like a fat ham (literally, my thigh and butt are thicker than this guys body.) No matter the compliments, or my pride from doing something out of my comfort zone, my confidence still took a hit in the end and now I just wish I could go through an extreme surgery where they trim all the fat off (if only).
I had fun last night but I swear it is hard when you lack confidence, live with anxiety coupled with depression and try to put on a smiling face. When they come next time, I plan to go, and I plan to be leaner so these poor guys aren’t lifting a woman who can break their back if being strained. 
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