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#okay enough. bedtime now.
brynnmclean · 7 months
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Getting my notes together for AKB has been SUCH a struggle for the past, uh... three? weeks? But I have notes in a digital document and an outline written out, and I am trying so hard to remind myself that that IS INDEED enough to go on. If it comes down to it. I CAN improvise descriptions and stuff. I WILL BE OKAY.
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nomaishuttle · 8 months
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so here is the thing. i teeeechnically do not have the money to get breakfast at the cafe tmrw... and if i uber directly to the library thatd also mean i wouldnt have 2 walk in my boots so slay right. but the thing is Whatt would i eat.. i dont feel safe eating the inside food. i have leftover spaghetti from da'j but that was gonna be dinner tmrw... i suppose i cn just make toast since i have my own bread but thats such a sad breakfast Just plain toast
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banannabethchase · 11 months
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Oh god Ring of Honor is almost 3 hours and ends 4 minutes before my bedtime oh NO.
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diejager · 5 months
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Omfg pervy roommate König!!! And his poor little roommate is none the wiser to how he abuses her poor cunt every night. He does such a good job fucking his load into her that she confides in him as a friend that she’s pregnant and is super shocked!! But that’s okay, he’ll always be there for her. Now she’ll never be able to leave him. <3
Cw: forced pregnancy, NON-CON/CUB-CON, DARKFIC, pervy!önig, perverted behaviour, somnophilia, dacryphilia, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, pregnancy, drugging, tell me if I missed any.
You’re blissfully unaware of his advances, or his nightly excursions into, pumping his cum into your already filled womb and putting a baby into you. He liked how disoriented and confused you look the day after, waking up pantieless, your bedsheets crusty and dried cum sticking to your thighs. You always come to him for advice, wanting to know why you came all over yourself, leaving you covered in your own slick and cheeks burning with shame when you told him, oblivious of his gleeful eyes narrowed down at you with a hidden grin.
It goes on for a while, he feeds sleeping pills - the ones from his prescribed-bottle for his insomnia - breaking half a pill down to a fine powder and spike your bedtime drink, waiting for you to doze off, sleeping so deeply that even an earthquake wouldn’t wake you up, and he fucks you. He, sometimes, takes his time, thrusting slowly, enjoying the slow and romantic pace, feeling you wrapped around him. Other times, he goes feral, pounding and bruising you, hands manhandling you into the prettiest position to let him fuck you deeper, the head of his red, angry cock kissing your cervix brutally.
You don’t take pills or any contraceptives, letting your monthly cycle roll over and deal with the cramps with painkillers. So he’s not surprised when you come crying to him about being pregnant after going to see your doctor about your daily nausea and stomach pains. He expected you to be pregnant after so many nights of filling you up, pushing load after load of fertile cum - he takes supplements to make him more virile - into your young womb, what he didn’t put into account was the long time it took to finally knock you up, the months he spent waiting and biting the skin off his thumb until it bled to have you round and plump with his child.
You had the prettiest face when you cried, eyes puffy and lips pouty, it made his cock stir, throbbing in his pants. It drove him wild, seeing you cry and whine about not being ready to be a mother, still so young and oblivious to who the father was —you didn’t even remember the last time you fucked anyone. König spent the day comforting you, wiping your swollen eyes with high-quality cashmere tissues he bought just for you, whispering sweet lullabies to you until your tears stop - much to his chagrin - and cradled you in his lap, fingers thumbing the soft fat of your thighs, running soothing circles with his calloused thumb.
He’ll wait until the baby’s born to tell you he’s the father, he might not be patient enough to sit around and wait, but he is patient enough to know when he should and when he shouldn’t wait. He’ll care of you until you come to term. He has the money to buy you whatever you need, KorTac is the best paying PMC and he was a colonel in the past, racking up a large sum of money before he signed a contract. Your cravings, your needs, your wants and whatever else you ask, your roommate - your soon-to-be-husband - König will take care of everything.
What a nice roommate you have, no?
Taglist: @hiraya1802 @tess0288 @elichisstuff @emodanoriddler @kenz-ee @bunnyclaire @akenosimp167 @havoc973 @death8match @yourliebling @allicsirp00 @cross-axis @hereforhotbitches @delulu4ghost @monster-in-paradise @nordicvsp @madi0987 @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @223princess @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday
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sttm99 · 5 months
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Part 2 here!
'Fuck.'
It had been just two nights since you'd given him head in the dark of his dorm room, and Bakugo hadn't been able to rid his mind of the sensation ever since.
He knew it was stupid to even agree to it. You were the one girl in class he felt comfortable enough to talk about anything with. Be it grades, his fears and even more sexual topics. It also helped that he knew you wouldn't ever judge him for anything.
You were his closest friend; more so than Kirishima. And he liked that... he liked that he has someone he could trust with his life, someone he could relate with so effortlessly.
And you felt the same way with him. You told him everything; every little secret, every dirty detail, and he never laughed or judged.
Which was why you both were in his room, many hours past his bedtime, sitting opposite each other on his bed as you recounted your most recent almost-sexual endeavor.
"-and it was so awkward cause it was just hanging there in my face and I didn't know what to do." You groaned out, with your body hunched over, face covered with your palms as you recounted your experience in the school's storage room with a General Studies boy you'd been seeing casually.
Bakugo chuckled at your demeanor from where he was. "Yeah then maybe you should have stopped him when you saw him undoing his fucking belt."
You glared at him through the cracks between your fingers.
"Seriously," he laughed. "If you didn't wanna give him head, you should have told him the moment you entered the closet."
You groaned and fell back unto his bed. "The thing is I want to do it."
You turned your head to stare up at Bakugo.
"So why didn't you?"
You groaned again. "I don't know. I mean... look, I wanna be able to make the guy I like feel good, you understand. And I really thought I wanted to give him head, but then he was pulling his jeans down- and I was getting cold feet and then he pulled down his boxers and I wanted to run away right then....
"But I pushed through- and I got down... and it was just staring at my face and-"
"Maybe you just don't wanna do it." Bakugo raised his brow, cutting you off from your rambling.
You frowned. "Maybe. I mean, I think about giving head...and I wanna do it, and then I get an opportunity and I panic. You're probably right."
There was silence for a moment, before Bakugo shifted in his position, pulling his knees higher up, closer to his body, and leaning his forward.
"Or maybe... you don't wanna do it with him."
You furrowed your brows. "Meaning..? I don't really like him or what?"
Bakugo shrugged, "I mean, do you?"
You began sitting up. "Don't I?"
"Come on, Y/N." He raised a brow, giving you an unimpressed look, "You don't even text him unless he texts you."
"Yeah because he's always texting me."
"See! You even say it like you're frustrated." Bakugo jutted his arms out at you.
You paused, sitting up and pondering it.
Bakugo groaned. "Listen, I know you, okay? You- frankly, you're horny... more so than most people-"
You scowled at him.
"-and the fact that you don't even let him put his hands under your fucking skirt most times should tell you that you're probably not all that sexually attracted to him."
You stared at Bakugo, eyes narrowed as you began to see his point. "I guess you're on to something."
"Look," he began, "I honestly think you're just with him because of how aggressively he pursued you. And that's fucking dumb."
You pouted. "I guess... so now I have to find someone else to practice head with."
"Why do you wanna learn how to give head?" He laughed.
"Cause the girls were talking about giving head one time and I wanna be able to join in conversations." I groaned out, exasperated, and flopped back unto your back.
Bakugo took a moment to look you over, before adjusting his shorts and clearing his throat.
"I can give you pointers if you want."
Silence.
"What?" You mumbled, sitting back up, with your weight on your palms and narrowing your eyes at him.
He scowled at you. "I'm not repeating myself."
You rolled your eyes and hissed at his stubbornness. "You idiot."
"But..." You started slowly. "If you're offering to give me tips on sucking dick, I don't mind."
He shifted a bit. "Yeah... well- it'll only work if you're sexually attracted to me. If not, it'll just be like with that guy earlier- and shit would be awkward." He was looking away now.
"Wanna find out?"
And that was how he found himself heaving against his headboard with his shorts and boxers flung at the far end of his bed.
"Shitshit- fuck Y/N."
His hands were fisted into your hair, knees raised in the hair and thighs spread on either side of your head, as you laid on your stomach before him, nose pressed into his dark blonde pubic hair and lips wrapped tightly around his dick.
His eyes were blown wide, lips parted as grunts forced their way out his mouth.
It was just bordering on too much; the sensation of your mouth, and he'd suddenly realised how seriously you'd taken his analogy.
-"Consider it a bottle of smoothie or something, and there's that chunk that can't pass through the bottle mouth properly, so you're trying to suck it out." He'd said, holding his already hard dick against your cheek.
"That sounds stupid, Katsuki." You retorted, as you scowled up at him.
"That's the best I got, I ain't some sex therapist, okay!"-
"Oh shit- you're good," he groaned out, head thrown back and thighs quivering. "Fuck- fuck! Fuck, you're fucking good, baby. Just like that, yeah..!"
His grip on your hair tightened, pushing you down on his dick so he could feel the sliding of your tongue on his shaft as he dipped into your throat.
It didn't help that you were drooling all over him- and yourself-, your hand cupping his balls and squeezing softly.
He was going into overdrive, thrusting up unto your mouth, his eyes rolling back as he slipped down your throat over and over again, and he moaned as he felt you gag, your throat constricting against his tip.
He brought his head forward to peek over at you.
"Slut," he groaned out, eyeing your positioning; one hand infront of you, playing with his balls, and the other stretched underneath your body, fingers dipping into your sleepshorts. "You fucking slut- you like this shit, don't you?"
You moaned around his dick, vibrations coursing round his veins and your eyes looking up to meet his; lids hanging heavy and pupils blown out as you sucked on his cock.
He came heavy- hard. With spasming thighs and choked out groans as he spurted his seed down your throat.
It was a lot... too much. He kept spurting out his cum and his sight was blurry as he looked at you.
Now he couldn't look at you without remembering your stupid, fucked expression when you were between his legs. And it's weird, because all you're doing is grinning an Sato as you hover around him whilst he bakes.
It's stupid. He knows it is.
You don't even like him that way.
Part 2 has been posted here!
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baby finn series, house divided
dad!lando norris x mom!wife!reader
series list - bedtime stories - sneaking onto stream - babysitting and date nights
summary - yours and lando’s little boy has decided to become a fan of a different team, leading lando into a little spiral
masterlist
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finn norris, yours and landos bubbly pride and joy, was turning three this sunday - subjecting his birthday to a race day. finn had obviously grown up along the track with his dad and all his colleagues and friends which led him to adore and fall in love with the sport that is formula one - scaring the living daylights out of you in his passionate displays of love for the dangerous activity at such a young age. not only was finn bouncing off the walls when lando informed him of where his birthday would be held, he was jumping, shaking and yelling with excitement as the race track was his favorite place on earth. 
“finn, baby, calm down,” you chuckled while giving lando a glance. you both were sat on the couch with your son in front of you in order to tell him the wonderful news. now your adorable little almost three year old was racing around screaming with joy.
lando let out a laugh as well and reached for his son, “if you’re excited about spending your birthday on the track you’ll also be very excited about my other surprise for you,” finn looked up at his father with those same crystal blue eyes and whispered as if it was to himself, “anotha’ supwise?” lando and you share another small laugh at his wonder as he proceeds to get your son his gift. you take this moment to sweep up your still giggly son into your lap and give him a few quick kisses to the top of his head. those delicious baby laughs were all you heard as you felt his face snuggle further into your arms. lando returns as swiftly as he left, yet this time he appears with a large box in his arms. your boy wiggles in your hold until you release him to crawl towards his father. once settled on your husband's lap, lando begins to aid him in opening the bright papaya colored box, leading to your understanding of the exact contents in seconds. lando was always getting sent items from fans that were miniature, or receiving pint-sized merch from mclaren all for his mini me which both of you just doted over. once the wrapping paper and tissue paper were thrown enough around your living room, finn finally poked his head into the box and came out with a frown.
“you don’t like it, bud?” lando softly questions while his eyebrows begin to furrow. “‘s not wed, dada,” your son responds as he eyes his father, confusion listed on all of your faces.
“baby, why would you want your outfit to be red for your birthday? don’t you want to cheer on daddy?” you attempt to understand the little boy by posing the questions but he simply just whips his head around to you even more confused.
“i cheer dada in wed!” his eyes begin to gloss over and you can already feel a temper tantrum about to stir, yet one look over to lando and you understand that both your boys may need a minute to cool down.
“okay finn, why don’t you pick out what you want to bring on the trip? i’ll be right in to help baby,” you reply cautiously as you lift him out of lando’s arms, around the forgotten papaya box, and in the direction of his room.
“otay, momma!” finn shouts as his little legs attempt to quickly take him into his room down the hall. once the tiny steps disappear, you turn to look at your other baby.lando sits on the couch with a blank stare as his hands ring together in front of him.
“he wants to support ferrari, love. not his own father,” lando’s head falls as he speaks and you land on the couch cushion next to him, beginning to run your hand up and down his back. even though finn was born while you both were young and unsure of how to raise a child together, since you were children yourselves, lando was consistently one of the best fathers you had seen. he let the third driver take his seat for a month and a half in order to be a dedicated father and bond accordingly with your son. he doted over you and your needs no matter what the cost or occasion. and overall he cherished approval, whether it be in the bedroom, the track, or parenthood. lando is confident, yes, but he will always want the confirmation that he is doing his best, and that his best is enough - which it is always more than. therefore, you could tell that his son not wanting to support his team, and by partisan him, has led him to conclude that he is not a good racer, role model, or father - and you needed to stop those lies from invading his head.
“lando, he’s two - almost three, he probably just likes the color and wants to wear it,” you reply to his heart heavy confession.
“no he wants to support his uncle carlos, who has been winning and been on all the podiums - oh except for when he was in the hospital having a surgery,” the ending of his small reply held a bitter tone which you knew was not jealousy. lando and carlos are especially close, he is beyond happy and proud of his friend who he knows deserves his winnings, but you could understand the envy appearing when his son is preferring him over his dad.
“lando, it doesn’t matter what team he wants to support, that is your son. and he worships the ground you walk on. trust me. i am with him all the time,” you continue with a chuckle and a funnier tone as you begin to recite the words your son always speaks to you, “it’s always, ‘when’s dada coming home?’ ‘i want dada to tuck me into bed’ ‘can i drive like dada when im older’ and so on. lando, he loves you - you know that. don’t make this into a bigger deal than it needs to be. he is three, his intentions are pure,” as you end your speech, lando begins to raise his head looking into your eyes.
“i know, love. it just sucks i guess,” he lets out a quick sigh along with a shrug and meets your eyes again, “you’re still wearing papaya, right?” slight anxiety in his higher pitched question and you begin to laugh, “yes, love, i will always be in your color,” you reply as he hums and leans into your embrace, reaching down to plant a sweet kiss to your lips. just as you pull apart you can hear the quick little pitter patter of feet running down the hallway your little boy emits, trailing behind him is his bluey mini suitcase overflowing with toys and games.
“i all pack!” he squeals in excitement as he races over to you and your husband. lando drops down onto your floor, finn running right into his embrace, followed by a fit of giggles.
“let’s see what you packed, buddy,” your husband replies as he ruffles around finns baby curls. finn then claps a bit until he’s situated on the floor in front of the suitcase. he begins pulling out his items and reciting them to both of you and you respond in a chorus of “ooh’s” and “aah’s”. 
race day   -
as lando struts down the makeshift runway that is the entrance to the paddock, you follow behind a little further as to not draw too much attention to your little son. even though finn had grown up around the paddock, both lando and you are still not fully comfortable with the cameras and attention specifically around your son. therefore, any precaution - even the slightest - to not have him overly immersed in the media you both will take. lando is simply sporting his mclaren team gear, you in a light and well-fit sundress that lando emphasized in the morning you look ‘absolutely ravishing, my darling” and your birthday boy, well, he has arrived in a bright red ‘sainz55’ ferrari shirt as well as a bright and wide smile - something your husband couldn’t even be mad at if he tried, as your son’s smile that bright on his birthday was worth any sort of bruise to the ego. once well inside the paddock, finn begins to wiggle and squirm in your arms wanting to be let down which could only mean one thing.
“UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS!” he begins to cry as you put him on the ground and he takes off towards him.
“FINN! SLOW DOWN!” your husband cries after him as he picks up a jogging pace after his overenthused son. carlos’ head whips around at the voice of his favorite little man as he begins to crouch down and brace for impact with his arms held wide. the little ball of red soon collides with his newfound favorite driver and the two begin to laugh as they hold each other. once you and lando catch up to the pair you can hear the adorable conversation at play.
“i wear wed fo’ you, uncle los!” finn sings happily while prancing around in front of carlos. the spanish driver, still crouched at your son's level, chuckles in admiration as he stares at the boy in front of him, “i think red is your color, pequeño,”
“it is! it is!” finn replies once again jumping around in full excitement.
“i also think it is somebody’s birthday,” carlos says holding a sly grin while staring at the little lando in front of him.
“ME! it’s mine!” your boy continues to jump.
“i think special birthday boys get to sit in their favorite uncles car?” carlos feigns innocence in the question as he looks at lando who holds a grin on his face. finn looks at his father for permission with a slight doe-eyed expression and lando gives him a simple nod before finn and carlos quickly disappear to the ferrari garage.
“i am very proud of you, love. you’ve got a good brave face,” you say quietly to your husband as he reaches down to pull you into a kiss.
“you know why i’m smiling, baby?” lando doesn’t wait for you to answer the rhetorical, “because we just gained a free babysitter for about an hour,” he kisses you again, this time with more urgency as he continues, dropping an octave, “and i’ve got an empty drivers room just waiting for us,” one more kiss and he’s already pulling you into the direction of the mclaren garage with you jogging quickly behind him in a fit of giggles. 
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sideeve · 6 months
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⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀( living with Mike Schmidt )
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— ★ Abby is his heart and soul. he knows if you’re a winner if she feels comfortable showing you her drawings.
— ★ i feel like American Idiot by Green Day is him and Abby getting ready for work/school. it’s a routine they built and can’t break out of it. so when you stay the night, you were shocked to see how quick they get out the house since Mike is always late to work.
— ★ if you can cook, you brought more meals on the menu and Mike can’t thank you enough. now, he doesn’t have to cook up some Chef Boyardee or order pizza. you were the only one they trusted in the kitchen.
— ★ weekly movie night was implemented on friday nights. you saw how much Abby and Mike were drifting away from each other so you took it upon yourself to make a movie night on fridays. the only problem is their choices. Abby would want to watch Coraline and Mike wanted to watch Megamind.
— ★ your first date was…something. Mike couldn’t really afford to go somewhere special so he found a recipe in one of the local libraries (the movie was set in like the 80s…) and cooked it up decent enough for it to be considered edible. (i’m joking, it was delicious) everything was good until—
“mike!” Abby yells from her bedroom. he was just in the middle of explaining something important to you, something he was passionate about. you could tell by the way he tried to hide his smile. but his sister comes first before anything. “Abby,” he whispers loud enough for only her to hear. “i thought i told you to keep quiet a bit. i have a date, remember?” she crosses her arms, “my tooth fell out.” “so? put it under your pillow and the tooth fairy will get it.” “that’s the thing! you told me that last time and i haven’t gotten five bucks! the tooth is still here!” shittttt. Mike sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i’ll give you five plus more if you just keep quiet, okay?” Abby nods. “okay, good.” Mike starts to walk off before coming back. “how do i look?” he adjusts his collars. “like a million bucks.” Abby giggles, smiling, showing off her missing tooth. “sorry about that.” Mike clears his throat, sitting back at the dinner table. “no, no. that was actually cute.” you smile, you heart warmed by the brothers-sister relationship they had.
— ★ you help him sleep. now, he doesn’t need that bland nebraska poster, or that tape with nature sounds, or sleeping pills. he has you. and even the nights that you aren’t there, he would spray your favorite perfume on your pillow, hugging it close to you as if he were hugging you.
NSFW headcanons
— ★ he’s a switch. 50/50. i think his sex drive is normal if not low. he values romantic gestures than sexual gestures. but in the sex field, he’s both a giver and receiver.
— ★ let’s start with dom!mike. you’d mainly see dom!mike if it was a bad day at work or a long one. scenario; abby had been knocked out in her bed around bedtime. you technically had the house to yourself as you waited for mike to get home. finally, you hear a car pull in and the engine turn off. you could sense that it was him. you were expected a cuddle session until you both fell asleep. not you being bent over the couch, his fingers in your mouth to hush the moans escaping from your lips, fucking you like a rabid dog.
— ★ on the sub aspect, you have a whiny baby on your hands. begging and whining for you to let him cum. he pinky swears he’ll be a good boy. he whines, groans, begs. all of that. he begs so much that you have to put a hand on his mouth so he won’t wake up abby sometimes. if he’s pissed you off, you’d punish him by riding him but not letting him touch you and edging him so much that tears form at the waterline.
— ★ munch. munch! MUNCH!!! when he’s stuffed in between your thighs, he humps the edge of the bed, cumming in his pants. he’s too ashamed to let you know. he thinks it’s sick. he’s getting off by the taste of you, your sounds, and your juices dripping down his chin.
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taglist ;; @worldsgreatestsinner
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erwinsvow · 1 month
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𝐫𝐜 - 𝟏:𝟏𝟒𝐚𝐦
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in your sleepy daze, you don’t feel the covers shift and move. rafe crawls in beside you, pulling on the blanket gently to get close. he thinks it’s soft enough that you don’t notice, because after all, you hadn’t noticed him opening the door to his bedroom to get in or turning on the lights to get changed.
while he tries to swing his arm around you to get comfortable, you cuddle closer to him, head resting on his arm before your eyes blink open.
“rafe?” you mumble, trying to make out your boyfriend’s shape in the dark. “go back to sleep, kid. it’s late.”
“no, i’m up now-” you let out a yawn, stretching your arms. “what time is it?”
“one in the morning.” you lean in, nestling your face into his neck and draping your arm across his chest. rafe picks up your hand, playing with your fingers, brushing over the ring he’d got you. 
“that’s late,” you note, followed by another yawn.
“yeah, i know. that’s why i’m tellin’ you to sleep.”
“how was the party?” you ask quietly, eyes open now, staring out the window at the moon. you listen to rafe’s heartbeat from your position on his chest, the repetitive thud becoming a soothing sound. you’re honestly not sure how you fell asleep without him in the first place, since it’s usually an impossible task. 
“stupid. no fun without you.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you squirm, giggling.
“i bet you’re just saying that.”
“am not. i don’t lie to you.” you feel oddly comforted by his words—rafe’s hardly sentimental, but every once in a while when you get him like this, you try to soak it in.
“well, i’m sorry it wasn’t fun.”
“s’fine. doesn’t need to be fun if you’re not there. just went to sell, anyways. top got piss drunk.”
“yeah, sarah said they were fighting or something.”
“not even dating. how’re they fighting? idiots.” you laugh against his chest again, humming in agreement.
“i don’t know. not everyone can be perfect like us.” he presses another kiss, this time to your forehead.
“got that right. now close your eyes. not jokin’ around. bedtime.”
“okay, okay. goodnight, rafe.”
“goodnight, baby.”
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loveinhawkins · 28 days
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”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.
The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—
Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.
He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.
But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.
I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.
Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.
“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”
“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.
If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.
Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?
“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”
Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.
Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.
“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”
Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.
He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.
“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.
The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”
His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.
I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…
Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.
“The shire, then,” Steve says.
Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”
“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”
And they do.
Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.
He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…
“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.
“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”
“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”
“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.
It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.
There’s no rush.
818 notes · View notes
transrevolutions · 3 months
Text
french revolution dashboard simulator
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🐀 ami-du-peuple Follow
uh actually man has the right to deal with his oppressors by devouring their beating hearts. hope this helps.
🎩 departicle Follow
Hold up. Okay. Actually, fuck this. This sort of violent rhetoric should not be tolerated on here. Do you seriously think this sort of thing is going to make the nobility give you more rights???? You must be out of your minds! Reported.
🧵 seamstressproud Follow
reblog to devour this guy's beating heart
#username checks out lmao #politics #everybody point and laugh #common adp w
6,178 notes
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organt-deactivated06151792
update: new canto out now!!! go check it out 😈😏🥀 (remember don't like don't read <3)
📜 sacredhostreceipts Follow
@centuriesandskies this you?? not such a great look for a convention rep ngl
🌄 centuriesandskies Follow
listen. I wrote this a long time ago, before I went into serious politics. the account is deactivated for a reason.
I was twenty. I did poorly. I can do better.
#sj.txt #if this is the worst dirt you can dig up on me #i'm way less corrupt than half the people in the convention these days #at least i'm not doing fucking. embezzlement. #also sacredhostreceipts if you're who i think you are #don't you have better things to do rn?
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🌎 landscape-showdown Follow
🌎 landscape-showdown Follow
why the fuck is everyone tagging this with french??? political figures?
#what the hell is going on over there #also maybe cool it with the death threats #I don't want this blog to get taken down #what's a girondin #is this some joke I'm not french enough to understand #showdown update
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⛪ progressivepriest Follow
Unpopular opinion but why is everyone so up in arms about the new Civil Oath? Literally all it's asking is for you to promise not to commit treason just because the Pope tells you to? I can see where people are coming from with the whole violation-of-religion deal, but can you blame the Assembly for trying to make sure the people aren't forcibly subjugated by the wealth of the nobility?
faith-first-alwaysdeactivated03011791
Sounds like something a heretic would say. To betray the Pope and king is to betray the will of God and your eternal soul! You should pray for forgiveness and pledge loyalty to the monarchy or have fun burning in hell. Sorry not sorry.
⛪ progressivepriest Follow
L + ratio + iirc the Bible says "it is easier for a rope to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven" (Matthew 19:24)
🎻 lacarmagn01e Follow
occasional based catholic moment, go off OP!
🌊 sea-of-revolution Follow
looked the faith-first-always guy's blog, he's like a massive anti-huguenot too 🙄 why is it always the prot-exclusive radical catholics smh
🌊 sea-of-revolution Follow
LMAOOOOO HE DEACTIVATED
#religion tag #percs fuck off #anyways op makes a valid point #reblog #percs dni
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🛌 virtuous-bedtime Follow
she committee on my safety til I can't go public
🍊 springtimeofgovernment Follow
I don't understand the joke, can someone explain please?? 🙂 Thank you!
🧵 seamstressproud Follow
is that fucking MAXIMILIEN ROBESPIERRE?!!?!?!?
🛌 virtuous-bedtime Follow
oh my god citizen robespierre I'm so sorry this was not meant to break containment lol I didn't even know you were on this site please forget you saw this
#this is the most embarassing moment of my life #literally sobbing rn #the original post is /j i prommy #i cannot be known as the citizen who had to explain this to the government
19,853 notes
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🪓 indulgentsfuckoff Follow
fabre d'eglantine is NOT your poor little meow meow citizens he literally falsified decrees from the national convention and embezzled money to line his own pockets. I don't care how uwu babygirl you think he is he is a CRIMINAL who should be ARRESTED
💛 i-give-people-bread Follow
🥖🍞🥐
#baguette #loaf #croissant #i-give-people-bread #indulgentsfuckoff #silly
2,011 notes
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🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow
fucking fed up with the constant threat of the swiss guard, I think it's time we got some gunpowder and weapons and took things into our own hands yknow what I'm saying
🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow
I'm no longer joking about this btw
🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow
update:
hopital
🧱 comic-sans-culotte Follow
ok bc I've gotten like 50 asks about this: I am not injured and I am not in need of medical care. the punchline was that we stormed the fucking hotel des invalides to get guns and powder. didn't want to clarify the joke before now for security reasons but everyone knows about that and the bastille thing by now. please direct your money to people who actually need it.
#shouldve clarified the last post was /j #however I assumed yall knew this joke already #anyways #revolution #personal #500 #1k
1,930 notes
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🌾 nopain-nograin Follow
got so high at the festivial 2day i thnk i saw hte suapreme being
#robespiere speech was prboably 🔥 #unforntuately i camt rember any of it #grainposting #oipum ehre is somtehing else thes days #memes
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🎨 jldavid-real-moved Follow
incredible speech from @springtimeofgovernment today at the jacobin club. nobody should be permitted to use their positions as civic leaders to commit crimes against the people, even under the guise of revolutionary fervor. if it comes to it, I too will drink the hemlock with him. for france. 🤝🤝
🍊 springtimeofgovernment Follow
Thanks for your support, @jldavid-real
The situation over here is deteriorating really quickly, the representatives are getting violent and abandoning due process entirely. Anything you can do to stand with us now would be very appreciated. You do a lot of great work for the revolution, and I trust you completely.
🍊 springtimeofgovernment Follow
@jldavid-real are you still there? We could really use your help right now.
🌄 centuriesandskies Follow
boosting @springtimeofgovernment here, can confirm he's been injured in a skirmish at the hotel de ville, they're passing summary death sentences without trial, @jldavid-real where is the help you promised us??? the people of paris are our only hope now.
edit: of course he moved blogs. coward.
#sj.txt #disappointed yet unsurprised #marat would be ashamed of you #9 thermidor #update
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🎻 lacarmagn01e Follow
DNI if you support any of these groups/people or their actions: m0narchists, f3uillants, br1ssotins/g1rondins, th3rmidorians, b0napart1sts, h3nri du v3rgier (also goes by c0mte de r0chjacquelin), charl0tte c0rday, or lafay3tte
(h3bertists and dant0nists you're on thin ice. behave.)
#censored so they dont show up in the tags #dni #get your nasty ass ideologies off my page #won't hesitate to block and/or report any violators #pinned
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gracchus-babeufdeactivated05271797
reblog to make the directoire choke to death on their stupid fucking outfits
🌊 sea-of-revolution Follow
hey staff. yeah you. where did this blog go?? notfishgoujon and prairial-95 are gone as well?? cowards too afraid to show your faces lmao especially after the fucking mess the directoire's made of the country. bet you anything that staff are on their fucking payroll too iykwim at least the republic didn't tolerate fucking bribery
#this site's gone to the dogs since thermidor yr 2 #following the trend of the rest of the country tbh #i'll probably get nuked for posting this #if so i'm not making a new account #i'll just make a paleocities or smth #politics tag #reblog #don't play with me ik full well gb didn't delete his blog of his own free will #they also zero note glitched it #just when you think they can't stoop lower
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📕 spectrehauntingeurope Follow
it's been 50 fucking years since gracchus-babeuf (and the other CoE blogs) were deleted without warning and still no response from staff, the govt, or anything. the site's gone through a fuckton of ownership changes and still nothing.
we're working on a bit of a project (some of you might know abt it already), it's gonna be out prob in the next year or so. remember '89. remember '93 and '94. remember '97.
the people will rise again. it's only a matter of time. 🚩
-mod karl
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cloakedsparrow · 3 months
Text
One of those 'Tim joins the bat family early because the Drakes are neglectful' AUs, only after the bats take him in and he's starting to figure out that this family is different, Bruce makes an offhand comment about dinner time and Tim's like "together?" His tone is cautiously hopeful but his eyes just light up at the thought of regular family dinners, something he's always wanted. Bruce, who is normally terrible about either waiting until after dinner to go out for patrol or coming back for dinner, decides on the spot that nothing will keep him from family dinner outside of a Rogue breakout or Justice League level event.
Alfred notices this and decides he's absolutely going to weaponize this kid to make his insane family take care of themselves better.
After dinner one day, when Batman and Robin were planning to head back out, Alfred casually mentions that maybe -if he has the time- Jason could go over Tim's book report with him, since the boy is worried about his English grade. The boy takes the bait. Of course he does. It's literature and his new little brother; the two things Jason loves even more than being Robin. He stays in to help Tim.
With some subtle grandfatherly nudging, this then becomes a thing. Jason will go out with Bruce for two or three hours, depending on the time of year, come back for dinner with him at eight, and -if it's been a slow night- stay in. He loves being Robin, of course, but he also loves his new family and his schooling, so Jason's perfectly happy to do homework and read or play with Tim until bedtime (unless Bruce needs backup or it's Summer vacation).
Tim is sick and Alfred mentions something about taking it easy and that he, or maybe the boy's father, will come check on him before bed. Before Bruce can even mention that he was going to be on an extended stakeout, Tim catches something in his expression and starts explaining that it's okay. He understands that Bruce is busy and he's not a baby. He doesn't need to be tucked in or anything.
Bruce decides on the spot that he will not be like Jack or Willis, who were gone all the time. He comes back at ten to check on Tim and make sure that Jason goes to bed. He then continues to come back sometime between ten and eleven to put the boys to bed. If it's been slow, he'll even stay in.
With all the extra energy he has now that he's sleeping better, Jason decides to join the school drama club. He revels in it. Alfred mentions his upcoming play to Tim (in front of Bruce), who wants to know if it would be weird if he brought jay flowers because that's a thing at plays, right? Bruce not only puts off Batman to make it to Jason's play, but he leaves early enough to stop at a flower shop with Tim.
Dick comes home for dinner after the play and Alfred makes a comment on hos nice it is to have the whole family together for dinner. When both Tim and Jason agree (looking slightly wistful, as Alfred knew they would) Dick readily agrees to come home once every couple of weeks for a family dinner.
Every couple of weeks becomes every week. Then dinner becomes staying the night. Then he starts paroling Gotham since the was staying the night anyway and he Bruce start getting along a lot better. Then he's there for dinner, patrol, and breakfast the next morning. Then he's there for the whole weekend.
The next thing Dick knows, he's put in for a transfer at work and is toting his little brothers around while he goes apartment shopping in Gotham and he's not sure how the whole thing started. He can't remember if it was him or Bruce or maybe Alfred (it was totally Alfred) who started the discussion on all the driving and how Gotham could really use him now that he's cleaned up the BPD. He just knows his little brothers and father had each showed their version of excitement at the idea and now here he is.
Alfred makes sure to make Tim's favorite foods for a while.
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aestheticaltcow · 1 month
Text
Six Months
An attempt at some parenthood angst?
Similarly to the title, this fic has been in my WIP folder for a minute; it went through a handful of edits. I'd like to think this is good enough for y'all.
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 Carmy sat in the office staring at the paperwork Sugar needed his signature on; when he saw the date on his phone, it hit him—today marked six months. Six months of parenthood and six months of celibacy, to say Carmy was sexually frustrated, was an understatement. “Hey Carm, did you- are you okay?” Sugar asked when she caught him staring blankly at his phone. He didn’t respond until she put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch snapped him out of his trance. He looked at her before quickly apologizing, “Sorry, what were you sayin'?” Sugar grinned as she patted his shoulder, “You okay, Bear?”
Carmy nodded and straightened up in his desk chair, “Yea- just thinkin’ bout the baby.”
Carmy got home from work late. He quietly slipped his jacket off, and hung it on the coat rack before removing his shoes. Walking down the hallway, he slipped into the nursery, knowing the baby would be asleep. He found it impossible not to be happy in her room. The walls were decorated with vintage floral wallpaper you’d bought off Etsy, it may have been a pain in the ass to put up, but Carmy happily obliged when he saw how happy it had made you. He crept to his baby girl’s crib and felt the day's stress disappear. She was peacefully sleeping in a light pink sleep sack, furiously sucking away on her pacifier. “Sweet dreams, princess,” he whispered. “I love you.” 
The joy of watching his daughter sleep faded away as he approached the askew door to the master bedroom the two of you shared. “I’m home, baby.” Carmy grinned as he walked toward the open closet door, “Hi, Carm.” you called from the bathroom. When he entered the bathroom, you were brushing your teeth. As the mix of salvia and toothpaste residue dripped from your mouth Carmy’s breath hitched- was this enough to get him goin’? He shook his head as he pulled his shirt off and threw it in the laundry hamper before turning on the shower.
“How was work, babe?” you asked before bringing a small cup of mouthwash to your lips. Carmy watched as you swished it around your mouth and spit it into the sink. “Carmy?” you asked again; he swallowed. “Yeah, uh, it was good. Busy,” he answered as you hopped up on the counter. You were desperate for adult interaction after being home with the baby all day. 
“Mia, have a good day?” Carmy questioned. You nodded, “We did some laundry, then had mashed pears for lunch- she did. I had that leftover pasta sauce you made... Read a couple books and went on a walk... Then did her bedtime routine, and I worked on that stupid documentary I was telling you about.” 
As you recounted your day, Carmy nodded, but he was staring at your chest, barely hearing what you said. You’d been wearing one of his old T-shirts. He noticed how prominent your nipples were under the soft, worn-in material. He was captivated by the fullness of your breasts, and he’d do just about anything to touch them again. “Carm, you okay?” you asked, hopping down from the counter; he nodded. “Wanna get in with me?” he asked cocking his head in the direction of the running shower. You giggled, “Maybe next time, bear.”
“Oh fuck-” Carmy grunted as he worked his hand up and down his length. He felt like a teenager again, masturbating in the shower before going to school. However, now, instead of imagining the unrealistic scenarios he’d see in pornos, he had memories of you. Carmy thought back to the last time you’d really touched him. Heavily pregnant, hormonal, begging for his tongue and his cock… he’d expected a shift in your sex life as the two of you adjusted to parenthood, but this long of a dry spell was the last thing he’d expected. Carmy squeezed his eyes closed as he came down the drain.
~
“Good morning, princess.” Carmy cooed as Mia squirmed in her crib, trying to get out of her sleep sack. She spat her pacifier out and let out a gruggle. “So it’s one of those mornings?” he chuckled as he unzipped her. He watched her stretch before carefully picking her up, “See, you’re okay.” he rocked her gently before exiting the nursery and heading downstairs. 
You were making coffee and prepping a bottle for Mia as he entered the kitchen. “You’re off today, right?” Carmy nodded in response before handing you Mia. “You goin’ to work?” he questioned, as he got two mugs from the cabinet. You groaned in response, “Jenny called off, so I have to go in. I’ll be back before bedtime.”
“Well, looks like Mia and I are havin' some Daddy-Daughter time,” you smiled as Carmy gently kissed her head before going to get the milk from the fridge. When you’d met Carmy all those years ago at some trendy Chicago bar, you found him incredibly alluring. His disheveled curls, the mix of some musky cologne and cigarette smoke, the way his T-shirt wrapped around his muscular arms… he’d always been… sexy. But watching him interact with Mia was a different kind of attractive.
Carmy drummed his thumbs on the handlebar of the grocery cart. He scanned the shelf before him as Mia happily made her baby noises as she looked around the aisle. “Okay, princess… they don’t have almond extract. What kind of grocery store doesn’t have fuckin’ almond extract.” Mia put her hands out to Carmy, grabbing at the air. Carmy chuckled and ducked to kiss her cheek.
“Oh my gosh, she’s too precious.” a sickly, sweet feminine voice cooed from behind Carmy. He grinned when he turned his attention to her, “How old is she?” she asked. Carmy got a good look at the woman; she was pretty, but she wasn’t you. “Oh, uh, she’s six months,” he answered as the woman stepped closer. She smelled like cheap vanilla and a mix of flowery scents Carmy couldn’t place. Mia glared at the woman, and Carmy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m Selena. I’m in this parenting group. You should stop by.” she smiled as she looked him up and down. The attention made Carmy regret not regularly wearing his wedding ring. “I’m not really the par-” Carmy started to say before Selena cut him off. “I’m not takin’ no as an answer. What’s your number?” she handed him her phone. 
Carmy didn’t know why he gave her his number- could he blame it on feeling uncomfortable? Was that even the right thing to do? It’s not like he’d ever do anything with this woman. He’d never throw away his marriage to you by hooking up with some woman he met at the grocery store. The reality of Carmy's actions didn’t hit him until he was in the checkout line. He gave his phone number to another woman- was that cheating on you? Did doing that in front of his daughter make him a bad father? “Okay, your total is $63.82.” the cashier smiled. Carmy nodded and swiped his card. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t run into Selena again.
~
It had been a couple of weeks since Carmy’s interaction at the grocery store. He’d noticed Selena’s text messages here and there. They seemed innocent until one Friday night, he was working late, you were home with the baby, and Selena had sent Carmy an explicit picture, hoping it would get his attention.
We’re both parents. 
I’m not looking for anything serious, Carmy…
My son is at his Dad’s place
Come over <3
Carmy stared at the messages before his eyes went up to the attached photo. Selena had the hem of her T-shirt between her teeth, showing off her toned stomach. He swallowed as he admired the contrast between her skin and the brightly colored fabric of her lacy underwear. He should block her. He should just delete the messages and block her number. He had a wife and baby at home—he couldn’t make this kind of mistake. He locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket before returning to the kitchen cleanup, “Hey Carm, I can finish this up. Go home.” Sweeps grinned as he attempted to connect his phone to the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. Carmy grinned, “You sure, man?” Sweeps nodded assuringly. “I think I can handle this boss man.” 
You heard Carmy walk into the bedroom that night, “Hey babe!” you called as you put your blowdryer in its designated spot by the sink. As the bathroom door swung open, Carmy’s lips were on yours. The initial shock wore off as Carmy’s tongue invaded your mouth, and his hands pushed under the hem of your sleep shorts to grasp at your ass cheeks. Carmy pulled you closer to him, forcing you onto your tip toes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers delicately tangling in the roots of his hair. The passionate kiss ended when Carmy started to kiss down your jaw. A giggle escaped your mouth as his lips brushed against your earlobe before he nipped at your neck. “Carm-m what got into you?” you croaked as you adjusted your hips against his.
 “I need you, baby,” he muttered, lifting you off the floor. You squealed as he crashed down onto your mattress. He hovered above your body, staring into your eyes. “I need to be inside you, baby.” he swallowed hard as you bit your lip. “Carmyyy,” you giggled as you watched him pull his t-shirt off. You ran a finger down his chest, making him moan softly.
 “Let me make you feel good, baby…” Carmy whispered in your ear as one of his hands found its way into your oversized sleep shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt his calloused fingertips graze your ribs. " I-I—" you studdered nervously. “Baby…please.” Carmy quietly asked as his lips brushed against yours. “No.” you whispered as you grabbed his wrist through your shirt, “What?” Carmy questioned as he stood up abruptly, “Did I do something? We haven’t done anything in like six months- clearly I did something wrong. Just tell me so I can fix it!” Carmy raised his voice as his eyebrows knit together in frustration. 
You propped yourself on your elbows and watched as he picked up his shirt from the floor, “Carmen, please don’t yell at me.” you said calmly. You watched as he rolled his eyes and paced before you, “Baby. I want to have sex with you. I need to have sex with you-” Carmy groaned as he pushed his hands over his face into his hair. Your eyes narrowed, “Carmen. I had a baby-”
 “I KNOW! I fucking know! You had my baby, but now you don’t even want to fuckin’ shower with me! I get it- pregnancy was hard, and then giving birth was hard, and now being a mom is hard.” Carmy started staring at the ceiling while he expressed himself. He took a breath and turned to look at you; regret washed over him when he noticed you were on the verge of tears. “Baby, please don’t cry…” he pleaded as he knelt by the bed. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away before he could grab it, “Sorry, I don’t want to fuck you after taking care of your baby all day.” you spat. Carmy closed his eyes and took another breath trying to compose himself before saying something dumb, “How dare I fail to meet my wifely duties.” you angrily laughed as you stood up. 
You crossed your arms over your chest and stared as Carmy got up. “Baby, I didn’t—" you cut Carmy off with a groan. “Shut up, Carmen. You don’t get to speak to me like that.”
Carmy sighed and stepped closer to you, as he reached out for your hips only for you to slap his hands away. “Don’t touch me.” you glared at him, “Fuck this.” Carmy muttered under his breath as he pulled his shirt back on over his head. “What do you mean ‘fuck this’?” you questioned as Carmy exited the bedroom, “I need air.” Carmy called back to you.
You moved to your bedroom window to see Carmy walking toward his car in the driveway. He got in and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. 
Send me your address.
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woso-dreamzzz · 5 days
Text
Nits
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You come home with nits
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Sometimes, Magda has bad days at training.
Sometimes, none of her passes connect and she can't defend to save her life.
Sometimes, they're just all around bad days from the moment she leaves the house to the moment she gets back.
But she knows that a bad day can turn good very quickly once she calls Pernille.
It's still difficult to deal with the distance even through all the years and it's gotten even more difficult recently now that you've come into the picture but, still, Magda's day can go from bad to good by just calling you both.
So that's what she does today.
For a moment, the call goes unanswered before Pernille's face fills the screen.
She's smiling but it's a little tense but Magda's just glad she picked up.
She frowns though. "Are you in the bathroom? I thought bathtime would be over by now."
Pernille laughs, adjusting the phone to be propped up on the side of the bath by the taps.
Magda grins. "Hi, princesse!"
You're the one in the bath, hair dripping wet as you perk up.
"Hi, Morsa!"
"Hi!" Magda says again before addressing Pernille again," Did you guys get in late tonight? I swear bathtime is usually earlier than this."
Pernille grimaces. "We had to pop out to grab some stuff. I picked her up today to find out that her nursery had a nits outbreak and the princesse got caught in it too."
Magda's heart drops as Pernille drags a nit comb through your hair.
"What?!"
"She's got nits," Pernille says," Or, she did have nits. They're dead now. We're just combing the last ones out and then one last hair wash to check, isn't that right, princesse?"
You giggle. "Morsa, nits go itch-itch-itch."
"That's right," Pernille nods along," Nits do make your head feel itchy but not anymore."
"Not anymore," You repeat," 'Cause Momma goes pew-pew-pew to the nits!"
"I sprayed stuff in her hair and waited," Pernille translates, separating out the last section of hair to comb through.
"Did they hurt her?" Magda asks, feeling utterly hopeless on the other side of the phone," The nits? Did she cry?"
"They're just nits, Magda," Pernille says," They made her a little itchy but we caught them early. I'll keep her out of nursery until they send out an email giving the all clear and I'll start braiding her hair instead of keeping it loose."
Magda's a little sceptical. "What's a braid going to do?"
"It'll stop her hair coming into contact with other kids' hair as much," Pernille replies. She unhooks the shower head and turns it on, gently running the stream of water against your arm so you can tell her when the temperature is warm enough for you.
Magda raises a brow. "Can't we just take her to a new nursery? I don't think we should send her back to this one."
"Magda," Pernille says with an eye roll, getting to work with lathering up your hair with shampoo," She barely goes in. It was one day."
"One day too many!" Magda insists," Look at her! She should be in bed by now! She'll be exhausted tomorrow!"
You don't feel tired at all. In fact, you're very excited to be staying up past bedtime and you let Morsa know that.
"That's nice, princesse," She says," But I think you'll still by tired tomorrow."
"Tha's okay!" You reply," 'Cause I get to stay up late today!"
Magda sighs at that and Pernille just shrugs behind you, a soft smile on her face.
"Close your eyes nice and tight, please," She says to you," And close your mouth!"
You take a big gulp of air and squeeze your eyes shut as the spray of the showerhead runs over you.
Momma washes out the shampoo thoroughly before putting the shower down to condition your hair.
You open your eyes again to see Morsa on the screen and you giggle at the silly face she's pulling.
"I still think we should move nurseries," Magda says.
"Magda," Pernille rolls her eyes," That's too much hassle. Do you know how long waiting lists are? There's no point if she only goes in a few times a month."
"But she could get nits again!" Magda insists," It's not safe!"
"Children get nits, Magda," Pernille explains as she drags her fingers through your hair," It was bound to happen at some point. Look, she's fine, I'm fine. The nursery will tells us when it's over and then she can go back."
Magda sighs, tabling this discussion for when she's in Germany in person.
"Should I read her story before or after you dry her hair?"
Your eyes light up at the prospect of your bedtime story. You start bouncing in the tub.
"Story! Story! Story! Momma! Momma! Momma! Morsa's storytime!"
Pernille laughs, rinsing out the rest of your hair. "That's right. It is Morsa's storytime." She lifts you out of the bath and wraps you up tight in a towel before reclaiming her phone. "Do you want Morsa's storytime now or when you're all snuggly in bed?"
"Now, please!"
"Okay," Magda says," Why don't you and Momma grab your copy of the Jolly Postman and I'll grab mine?"
"Okay! Momma! Momma! Jolly Postman, please!"
Momma laughs as she lifts you up. "Alright, let's grab your book."
448 notes · View notes
ma1dita · 26 days
Note
My dearest sweetest moony
I, a daughter of Hypnos, just want to hold Luke close and let him sleep the best sleep he has ever had in his life, don't let Kronos talk to him or get close to my boy
1, a daughter of Hypnos, just want to help the campers sleep, help all of those kids get their desired rest
Please let this daughter of Hypnos help her children (the campers) and her husband (Luke)
🐥
(i wrote this request and another one but I didn’t put the 🐥 on them, should I send them to you again or not? Sorry about that darling, love ya, and again I’m really sorry for the inconvenience)
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
luke castellan x hypnos!reader
wc: 756
Honestly, Luke was starting to feel bad.
Every free moment he gets to spend with you, he’s been falling asleep. He fell asleep during your lunch picnic last week, sprawled out on the red and white checkered blanket—cheek against your lap as you read a book, on your shoulder at the bonfire last night even with Percy and Grover trying to screech out the lyrics to ‘Unwritten’, and even now as you brush through his curls as you read all of cabin 11 a bedtime story.
Luke knows that dating a daughter of Hypnos has some advantages for sure—you get to stay in the bunk next to his since you don’t have your own cabin, your dad blesses him with nice dreams for taking care of you, and everyone quiets down easier for the night as you project images of sheep for them to fall asleep to. But as he rubs his eyes to the sound of your calming voice, he reckons he’d punch the shit out of a sheep if another misty image of one decides to trot near the air of his bunk. You’re nestled against his arm, looking ethereal with moonlight shining against your cheekbones as you watch his eyelashes flutter slowly from the weight of his eyelids.
“You need to stop doing that, my dream girl.”
“Hmm?” you whisper, voice breathy like cool air. Yawning, you press your cheek against his bicep with a smile.
“Stop putting me to sleep. Wanna spend time with you,” he mumbles, trying to not wake the other campers.
“M’not doing anything, Lu. Besides, you’re cute when you’re asleep,” you chuckle, and his arms wrap around you tighter as his hands dip into his pajama pants you stole from his dresser.
“Are you saying I’m not cute now?” he pouts, reaching to tickle the skin that peeks out from under your shirt and you giggle. The sound of it is loud enough to echo across the cabin, but something extra must have been in your voice tonight because not a single camper stirs.
In a room full of people, the two of you share a moment that’s just for the both of you, watching each other quietly with soft loving smiles. Moving closer to his face, your lips press kisses into the lines that crease his forehead, the scar running down his cheek, the tip of his nose, and finally the plump of his pouting lips. He pulls you in deeper, smiling softly against your kiss that’s ever so gentle until he’s drifting off…
You don’t take offense to it though. Sleep is your gift bestowed to you by your godrent, and to share that with your love makes it the best gift of all.
Luke jolts up the next morning after his nose dips into his bowl of cereal. The nymphs and younger campers all chatter and giggle around you two as he grumbles, shoving another mouthful of now soggy Frosted Flakes into his mouth. You smile, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck, taking a bite of your waffle.
“You okay, baby?”
He huffs, kissing the back of your hand before you stand up to go and grab napkins. Annabeth rolls her eyes from across the table, which makes Luke toss a chunk of banana at her.
“What?”
“You’re too dramatic for your own good, Luke,” she sighs, stirring her iced coffee with a straw. She looks at him exasperatedly when he looks more confused by her statement, even if it’s the truth.
“I just feel like a bad boyfriend. Always falling asleep on her. Never do that with anyone else, and sometimes I think she does it on purpose…” he says, leaning against his palm.
“It’s the oxytocin,” Annabeth says, and Luke looks at her blankly, “Your brain releases oxytocin around people you love, and as a result you feel safe and at ease—which is why you keep falling asleep around her. So stop blaming your girlfriend!” She shakes her head like the old soul she is, getting up to clear her tray and leave Luke to his nonsense. You return to the table with a handful of napkins and a grin that instantly brightens his mood.
Rubbing at his eyes, he can see you more clearly and to your surprise, Luke pulls you by the chin for a kiss as he says thank you.
“What’s that for? Can’t be because of the napkins,” you giggle, and a dopey smile crosses his face.
“Because I love you, my dream girl. That’s all.”
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jazzyoranges · 7 months
Text
Designated Driver
Tara Carpenter x gn!reader
Summary: pretty much the title
Words: 0.5k
A/n: tiny drabble before smut :O
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“Dude, you’ve definitely had too much to drink”
“You have such squishy cheeks, have i ever told you that?” Tara slurs her words as she pinches your left cheek, her breath smelling of booze
“Alright, that’s enough” You decide to ignore how you feel your cheeks get warmer “I’ll go get everyone else. Stay here, don’t go anywhere”
“Waaaaait don’t leave me… I miss you” Tara wraps her arms around your neck, and you also decide to ignore how she’s pressing kisses against your shoulder
You were everyone’s designated driver, being the most responsible out of the group. Sam approved of your presence when she wasn’t able to be with them, and she trusted you with her sister. With Tara around your neck, she quickly migrated to your back, forcing you into giving her a piggyback ride. You two somewhat resembled a koala and his mom, which Mindy made sure to point out
It was your job to take care of your friends like a single mother, and you took your job very seriously
“C’mon, everyone. Keep walk- Mindy stop making out with Anika. You two can have sex when you get home. I don’t want to clean up my leather seats”
“You’re no fun… why do we have to go?”
“It’s past your bedtime.”
“You’re not my mom!”
“I am, actually. Now keep walking before i decide to bodyslam you into my car”
“Stop bein’ mean to Mindy” Tara mumbles into your neck, and her breath sends shivers down your spine
“Everyone. Car. Including you, Tar”
“Can i sit on your lap?”
“If you’re good i’ll spend the night over” Just like that, Tara is off your back and seated in your car along with Anika, Mindy, and Chad. You drive to the twins’ place first, and Anika decides to stay with her girlfriend for the night. When they leave, Tara crawls through the middle space to sit in the front seat next to you
“Don’t you need to get clothes from your place?” Tara asks, and you notice how she’s sobered up the tiniest bit
“I think you’ve stolen like half my wardrobe”
“You have a hot jawline.”
“Go to sleep, Tara”
“I’ll make sure to dream about your jawline”
“Wow, i guess your true motives are showing” You playfully grumble, nearing Tara’s and Sam’s apartment
“Carry me?”
“You have legs”
“But you’re strong”
“So are you, babe” You pat Tara’s thigh “Put those legs to good work”
“You sound like my middle school gym teacher…”
You chuckle at the thought of middle school Tara, but you ultimately let her climb on your back when she looks up at you with her doe eyes. Your girlfriend knows exactly how to make you fold
“Jesus, isn’t it illegal to have a non-working elevator?” You’re huffing and puffing by the time you make it to Tara’s floor, and she lets out a giggle
“It’s okay, babe. You’re hot when you’re tired” She presses a kiss to your cheek as payment when she gets off your back
“And you’re horny when you’re drunk. I’m too sleepy for sex, Tar”
“You might actually be the meanest person i know.”
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roosterforme · 5 months
Text
The Younger Kind Part 42 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: The retirement party for Admiral Bates is well underway when you and Bradley run into Beau Simpson. He's just one reminder that some things will never change for the two of you. While you're really enjoying the evening out with your boyfriend, it's starting to feel like nobody else wants you to.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4800 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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On the way up to the San Diego Botanic Gardens, Bradley held your hand and sang while he drove. Nat was in the backseat humming along with him, and you were simply looking out the window at the ocean and the rocky cliffs along the wilder more rustic beaches north of the city. The sun was setting, and the orange and purple streaks along the horizon cast everything in a dreamy light. 
Then you thought about Noah and wondered if you left enough ants on logs for him and Amelia to eat for a bedtime snack. You weren't sure if you got his favorite pajamas out of the dryer before you started getting dressed for the night. "Should I text Amelia and check on Noah?"
Bradley chuckled and glanced at you as he drove. "We just left, Baby. I told her to call me if she needed anything, so I'm sure they're fine."
You tugged gently on his hand. "You texted me all the time when I was Noah's babysitter. Even when you were out on app dates."
Bradley squeezed your thigh through all of the layers of your skirt as he quickly glanced at Nat in his rearview mirror. "I wasn't texting you to check on Noah, because I knew he was perfectly fine in your care. I was texting you because I couldn't focus on whichever woman was right in front of me when I knew you were waiting at home." You smiled as warmth washed through your body. "I was a complete fucking mess on every single one of those dates. Running back home to see if you were sitting on the couch or at the kitchen table. Curious about which color Skittle was touching your lips and tongue. That's why I texted. And that's why you're not my babysitter anymore."
If Natasha could hear your conversation, she was thankfully pretending she couldn't. You brought Bradley's rough hand up to your lips and kissed him. "I'm a complete fucking mess for Noah's daddy." Bradley grabbed your chin and ran his thumb along your bottom lip, and you were shamefully a little turned on while someone else was in the car with you. 
After that he dropped his hand back to your thigh, but you could see the flushed shade of pink on his cheeks and knew he was feeling as warm as you were. "I want you to have fun tonight, Princess. I love the way you always think about Noah, but I'm not going to worry about anything at home unless Amelia contacts us, okay?"
You let your head tip back against the seat as you said, "Okay. You're right."
Bradley pulled off of the main road into the parking lot of the beautifully lit up glass greenhouse structure of the gardens as he said, "I'll get a little champagne in your belly, and then you'll be focused on me." He was smiling as he found a parking spot, and you leaned over to kiss his cheek.
"Well, this has been lovely, but I'll meet you both inside," Nat announced as she hopped out as soon as the Bronco came to a stop. You watched her yank her black dress up in her hand and walk as quickly as she could across the parking lot in her massively high heels while you laughed. 
"She thinks we're gross," you whispered as you crawled onto his lap. You kissed his mustache as you reached for his hat and put it on him. His eyes were soft as he examined your face, stroking his thumb along your cheek. You kissed him again, trying to remember that he was wearing all white while you were wearing dark lipstick. But now it was smudged on his lips and you whimpered softly. 
"We are gross," he confirmed, wrapping his arms around you and holding you on his lap. "Now... who are you going to stay with all evening?"
You smirked. "My Daddy."
"Perfect," he replied, stroking the bare skin along your lower back, making you shiver. "Let's go find Mav and Penny and get some champagne."
----------------------------
Bradley would never get over the fact that you were such a headturner, but with you in your formal dress, things were even worse than the night he took you to the Hard Deck in your worn out jeans. He should have bought you an actual crown to go with your outfit, because it would have matched perfectly with your flawless face and your poised demeanor. It would have made you stand out even more. 
The difference tonight was the number of spouses and significant others who were present, and many of them were Bradley's age. As you and he walked inside the sprawling greenhouse enclosure which was filled with orchids, topiaries and rare plants, Bradley felt like he was cast in a spotlight. He kept his arm wrapped around your waist as you chatted away about wanting to see the rare flowers that were supposedly blooming tonight. 
"We can check them out," he assured you, fully aware that you were completely oblivious to the women glaring at you and the men smirking at Bradley. "We just need to find the man of the hour and get you a glass of champagne first."
But the crowd of people moving deeper into the greenhouse slowed, so Bradley pulled you closer to him. You went willingly and stood with your chest pressed to his as you looked up at him and smiled. His hands fell to the swell of your hips as you touched all of his pins again. In your high heels, your lips met his neck more easily, and you whispered, "I think I'm the youngest person here," with a little laugh. 
"You have no idea, do you?" he asked, taking a few steps forward with the crowd as he guided you along the stone pathway. When you looked up at him, clearly puzzled, he added, "You don't know how people look at you." He brought his fingers up to the smooth strip of skin above your skirt and watched you turn your head and look around the indoor garden as someone started playing the grand piano set off in the corner. Your cheek rested briefly against his white jacket before you looked up at him again. 
"People are looking at me," you whispered, poking his hat so it was crooked on his head. 
"Mmhmm."
"It's just because I'm younger, and I'm here with a very old man," you said with an innocent expression. 
Bradley squeezed your ass and stroked your lips with his thumb as he said, "Blaming it on the age gap is only going to get you so far, Princess. You're beautiful, and people notice."
You grinned up at him and muttered, "You're such a daddy," just as someone in a tuxedo holding a platter of champagne flutes came past. "You're hot, too. That's why there are women looking at us." 
Bradley snatched two flutes as he realized that you and he were actually in the line to shake hands with Admiral Bates. He wanted to argue and say that he wasn't the reason anyone took notice, but he could see Warlock and his wife now.
"Okay, Baby," he whispered, handing you a glass. "Make me look good in front of my bosses." And then he noticed that Cyclone and Maverick were there, too. And now Cyclone was looking at you like you were the midnight snack he tried to take home with him from the Hard Deck. 
"Oh, it's that guy again," you whispered as you turned to face the front of the line. "The one who bought me drinks at your Navy bar."
"Admiral Simpson." Bradley had to fight the urge to grab at your body and taste your tongue, even though the only thing he wanted to do was make it clear to Admiral Simpson and everyone else that you were with him and him alone. His cock twitched in his dress whites just thinking about parading you around this retirement party with your hair wrecked and your skirt crooked and a fucked out little smile on your face. 
He grunted as he laced his fingers with yours, and Cyclone met his eyes. He had to fight to keep his expression neutral as the other man's gaze traveled to your face and dipped down your body, and when he met Bradley's brown eyes again, he smirked. So Bradley smirked, too. 
Then you and he were right there in front of the lineup of Maverick, Cyclone, Warlock and his wife. He let go of your hand to salute the others, and then Warlock's wife started to make an absolute fuss over him. But not before he heard what Cyclone said to you.
-----------------------------
You were young, but you weren't stupid, and you didn't appreciate the way most men besides Bradley looked at you. He never stared at your chest instead of your face when talking to you, and he never made you feel uncomfortable. You chalked it up to him being older and more mature than guys your own age. So it was almost laughable when Admiral Simpson, who was at least fifteen years older than your boyfriend, greeted you by saying, "I remember you. From the Hard Deck. You'd be impossible to forget."
As if he'd done anything besides piss you off when he touched your cheek. As if you hadn't pushed his hand away and strolled off with the drinks he insisted upon paying for. You wanted to make a snide remark, you really did. When he shook your hand and asked to be reminded about your name, you wanted to tell him to fuck off. But you knew that Bradley reported to both him and Maverick at work, so you decided to play nice. 
You glanced up at Bradley who was sort of glaring at Admiral Simpson even though he was talking to Admiral Bates. You told Simpson your name, and then he gave your hand a little squeeze. "Please, call me Beau."
"Sure," you said cooly, carefully extracting your hand from his. "Beau."
"So, I heard that you're actually Bradshaw's babysitter."
The words made your skin prickle coming from him. "I'm working full time as a nurse now."
He smirked. "Are you still looking for a babysitting job after hours?"
You raised one eyebrow and sipped your champagne before you asked, "Do you have kids?"
"No, none," he replied easily, his steely gray eyes locked on your face. "But I'm sure I could still find something for you to do with your set of skills."
You were torn between throwing your champagne at him and loudly asking him to explain what he meant by that. But you didn't want to waste the drink when there was a delicious looking raspberry waiting for you at the bottom, and you were certain you already knew what he was getting at. So you simply said, "I'm kept very busy all day as a pediatric nurse and all night as Lieutenant Bradshaw's girlfriend. I just don't see how I could fit you in."
You turned away from his smirking lips when Admiral Bates' wife absolutely lit up and asked, "You're a pediatric nurse? That was my career for almost thirty years!" You were blessedly saved from having to talk to Beau any longer as Admiral and Mrs. Bates kindly asked you about your job and didn't treat you like a child. She even said, "I'll absolutely look for you again later tonight. I had no idea Lieutenant Bradshaw was dating a pediatric nurse!"
After you bid them farewell, you realized Bradley and Beau were standing very close together, and your boyfriend did not look happy. The last thing you wanted was to be the reason he didn't enjoy himself tonight. You downed the remainder of your champagne and bit into the perfectly ripe berry before you reached for his hand.
"Come on, Daddy," you said loud enough for Beau to hear as well. "I feel like dancing." With one firm tug, you got him moving away from the other man. "It sounds like there's a DJ in another part of the arboretum," you mused as he came along.
"I heard what he said to you." You looked up to see Bradley's expression was annoyed. "It's always going to be like this. You know that, right?"
You reached for two more champagne glasses as they came parading past you. "Save your berry for me," you instructed Bradly when you handed one to him. "It's my favorite part."
"Did you hear what I said?" he asked, stopping you when you tried to head off toward the louder music. 
"Yes, I heard you, Bradley. But you're the one who keeps telling me to ignore it. You tell me it doesn't matter, and that you love me and that I shouldn't let it bother me. So what would you have me do? Ask you to yell at Maverick's boss for being weird?"
He sighed and said, "It's never going to stop. Because you're young and hot."
Now you were getting a little annoyed. "Well, can you live with it or not? And this is a two way street here, because I've had to deal with my fair share of Caseys and Helens. You're hot. You have a sweet little boy and a dog. You have your shit together. You're a man in your thirties, who could have any woman he wants, and it shows. But you told me you want me. And I want you. So Beau Simpson can just stand over there next to the seven foot tall brassavola nodosa orchid and look like an ass for all I really care."
Bradley was gaping at you as you put your hands on your hips and added, "Don't forget to save me your raspberry. Now I said I wanted to dance. Are you coming or should I go find Nat?"
"I'm coming," he whispered. 
--------------------------
Bradley wasn't sure how many glasses of champagne you'd had, but an hour later, you were still dancing with him inside the humid fountain room surrounded by rare ferns and imported shrubs while you giggled. The music was starting to pick up as the night wore on, and after you and he had danced to a handful of slower, romantic songs, a few with faster tempos played in a row. 
He kissed your temple and whispered, "Let's take a break."
You scoffed and tightened your arms around him, your breasts pressed to his jacked inside your beaded top. "You're so old," you said, but it came out as more of a whine. "And sexy. And I want to keep dancing with you."
It was that easy for you to keep him on the dancefloor near Maverick and Penny. Even Nat was dancing nearby with Coyote, and Bradley was pretty sure he knew what that meant. "I'll bet you Nat goes home with Javy," he whispered next to your ear. 
You gasped and turned to look at them over your shoulder. "Oh, I hope she does. He's so hot."
"Hey," he grumbled, tucking his fingers inside the waistband of your skirt and drawing your attention back to him. 
"I mean... ewww, he's way too young! He's like thirty! I hate that."
"That's better." He leaned down to kiss you, and it was just starting to get a little dirty when Maverick cleared his throat. 
"Just thought maybe I could cut in for a bit," he said with a smile at you.
"Sure!" you replied, and Bradley left you with his godfather after giving you a soft peck on the cheek. Then he went off in search of Penny at the bar where she was drinking a martini in her pretty blue dress. 
"Oh, there you are," she said, flagging down the bartender again for him. "You want a martini?"
"Sure," Bradley replied. He was keeping track of how much he had so he could drive him later. Now he was also going to have to check in with Javy and see how much he'd consumed. "Amelia would text me if there was an issue, right?" he asked Penny. 
"I'm sure she would. She probably has Noah in bed by now and is reading one of those horror novels she likes. Either that, or she's playing with the dog."
Bradley nodded and glanced to make sure you were still with Mav. "He really wanted to dance with your future wife," Penny said when Bradley's martini got dropped off. 
He groaned. "Mav told you I'm looking at rings? Because I specifically asked him not to."
Penny laughed. "He's terrible at keeping secrets. You should have known better."
"I'll know better for next time," Bradley told her playfully. "And I don't care if she dances with him for the rest of the night, I just need to keep most of these other assholes away from her."
Penny laughed with the rim of her martini glass pressed to her lips. After she took a sip, she said, "I'm not surprised you feel that way. She's sweet and she's young. And while I miss having her living on my street, I'm sure you must be happy she's living with you now. The trip to the lake house was really special, and it's easy to see how much Noah loves her."
Bradley smiled. "She fell in love with Noah before she fell in love with me."
"Anyone would, Bradley."
He and Penny were sipping their martinis when Maverick joined them, and Bradley turned so fast to see where you'd gone. "Seriously, Mav? You left her with Hangman?"
Maverick glanced back as well to watch Jake's hands all over that soft skin above the top of your skirt. Bradley's jaw clenched; nobody else should have access to you there. Even Mav had kept his hands respectfully on the back of your beaded top. And Jake looked handsome tonight. Bradley knew dress whites made any officer at least ten percent more attractive; it was something Nat told him years ago when he got asked out ten times at his promotion banquet.
"She'll be fine," he replied with a shrug, ordering himself a beer. "What's the worst that could happen?"
You asked him barely an hour ago if he could live with this or not. He had assured you he could. But this was Jake. He'd actually managed to kiss you in the middle of Bradley's kitchen. Jake knew what your lipgloss tasted like. "Fuck," Bradley grunted when Jake met his gaze. Because now he was smiling like the cat who got the cream while he let his hands drift a little further south toward your ass. 
You were talking to him, about what, Bradley had no idea. Then you reached for his hands and guided them back up to your waist while Jake gave you the most distressingly fake innocent look he could muster up. When you glanced Bradley's way, you rolled your eyes before turning back to Jake, but when that song ended, you came over to the bar. Before you even made it all the way to him, Bradley secured you a glass of champagne with a raspberry.
"Princess," he said, handing it to you. "Did you have fun with Jake?"
"Not particularly," you said blandly, but Bradley could tell you were ready to laugh. "He invited me to the charity air show next month that he's flying in. Claimed he's donating five thousand dollars to the children's hospital and asked if I'd want to go since I work with kids. He also stressed that it wouldn't be a date, and that I would get to tour the hospital with him."
Bradley chuckled. He'd thrown his name on the list of volunteers as well, and he knew for a fact the selections hadn't even been made yet. "That's wishful thinking on his part." Bradley leaned in and kissed your cheek. "Do you want to go on a tour of the children's hospital?"
"Kind of," you said with a shrug while you gulped down your champagne just to get to the raspberry which made him smile. "But not with Jake. Obviously."
He tucked his fingers under your chin so you were looking at him. "Do you want to go with me if I get to fly in the air show?"
Your face let up. "Of course! I didn't want to say anything, but the whole day sounded pretty great, actually. Can you fly in it, too?"
"I'll see what I can do," Bradley said softly, looking across the crowded room and past the fountain to where Cyclone and Warlock were chatting. As much as he didn't want to, he could ask Warlock on one of his last days at work to push his name to the top if possible. And he'd rather choke on one of the raspberries, but he could feasibly ask Cyclone. 
Bradley watched you pluck another glass of champagne from a passing tray before leaving your empty one on the bar. "Baby, how many have you had?" he asked with a laugh.
"Not as many as Natasha," you replied, nodding to where she and Javy were making out in the middle of the dancing couples. Actually, a lot of Bradley's colleagues were pretty drunk now. Even Maverick had rosy cheeks and a bit of extra swagger in his step. 
Bradley set his empty martini glass down, already knowing that was his last drink for the night. Your eyes lit up as you finished yet another glass of champagne, and Bradley recognized the remix of the song as one from the kid friendly playlist you made for Noah. You shook the raspberry into your mouth and chewed it up before you kissed him. 
"Dance with me," you demanded, and Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist and led you out to where everyone was bouncing around. The lights had been dimmed, and the fountain in the background was illuminated now. You danced wildly in his arms, and Bradley knew you were probably going to have a hangover tomorrow. When you spun around as you sang along, your ass grinding against him, Bradey leaned in close and kissed your neck.
"I love you, Baby," he said over the music as he ran his hands along any bare skin he could find. You responded by grinding a little harder against him, so he knew you heard him. He licked the shell of your ear and kissed you there as the song came to an end. 
"I love you too, Daddy," you told him, kissing him solidly on the lips. "I think I'll have one more glass of champagne."
He was not convinced that was a good idea, but he took you back to the bar anyway. And now everyone was over here including Nat and Javy who looked very cozy together. You had another champagne flute in your hand when he asked Nat, "You're not going to need a ride home from me, are you?"
She smirked and shrugged at him. "Doesn't look that way."
"How long has this been going on this time?" he asked as you tugged on his arm.
"Daddy, can I have your wallet?" you asked loudly in front of everyone accumulated at the bar. Javy gaped at Bradley while Mav and Penny tried not to laugh. Nat was ready to gag just like she was every time she heard you call him that. You were probably a little drunk, but you probably also didn't care who heard you. Bradley pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to you, and you kissed his cheek and walked away with it. 
"I feel like I should be concerned," he muttered to himself.
------------------------
You were quite tipsy now, and everything seemed like a good idea. Once you secured Bradley's wallet, you giggled as you went off to find that one guy carrying around the champagne who looked about your age. When you located him, you smiled and waved him down.
He looked like he was going to drop his entire tray as he eagerly asked, "How can I help you?"
Then you told him your name and said, "I was hoping you could do me a favor."
"Anything," he said quickly, and you couldn't help but laugh which made him smile. You probably didn't even need the wallet after all, but you took out fifty bucks and pointed across the room. "You see that guy standing over there in the dress whites?" You knew that didn't really narrow it down in this crowd, but luckily at the moment Beau Simpson was mostly surrounded by women and men in gowns and suits. 
"Yes."
"Any chance you can go to the bar, get a glass of top shelf bourbon and take it to him?"
He shrugged and said, "Sure."
Then you handed him the fifty and said, "Please make sure you tell him it's from Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and his girlfriend." 
"Done," he replied, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of making some easy money. 
As he walked away, you smiled to yourself and strolled back to Bradley. He seemed to be arguing with Natasha about something, so you carefully tucked his wallet into his pocket. He turned to face you, and you kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'll be back after I use the ladies' room."
"Don't take too long," he told you, patting your butt before returning to his conversation with his best friend. 
You nearly tripped when you saw Admiral Beau Simpson being delivered his glass of bourbon, and it seemed to do what you had hoped it would. He was laughing as he searched the crowd, and then he took a sip of it with an appreciative look on his face before joining Admiral Bates in conversation. You were practically cackling as you made your way to the restroom with your poofy skirt billowing around you.
Tonight you really felt like a princess, and when you checked yourself in the ladies' room mirror, you were delighted to see that the makeup job Natasha did still looked really good. You clicked across the marble floor in your heels and tucked yourself in one of the stalls. Very carefully you bunched your skirt up, and just as you finished and flushed the toilet, you heard the main door open, and a few voices echoed through the room.
"She's way too young for him," said one woman, and you tried your best to keep your skirt bunched up as you peeked through the slit between the stall door and the wall. She was kind of pretty; she kind of looked like an older version of you. "Whoever she is, she looks like she's about twenty. Her purple dress is pretty though."
You froze, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end.
"He's just having his midlife crises a few years early. All men have one," another woman, this one with red hair, told the first one. You were nearly certain they were talking about you and Bradley, and you had to keep bunching your skirt up so they wouldn't see it under the stall door. "But he's got a kid, doesn't he?"
"Yeah," replied a third woman with black hair, who was fixing her makeup. "He's a cute little thing. Rooster brought him to base a few times."
Your heart was pounding as you stood there and listened to someone you'd never even seen before talk about how cute Noah was. You couldn't decide if you wanted to scream or cry as she said, "He'll snap out of it soon when he realizes he can do better. I'm sure she's got nothing to offer other than being young and eager. He'll get tired of that soon enough."
The first woman laughed merrily as tears stung your eyes. You were standing in a bathroom stall holding the bunched up skirt of the formal dress Bradley bought for you while three women you didn't even know trashed you for no good reason.
Then the second woman said, "She wasn't even with him when we passed him on our way here."
"Yeah, it's probably past her curfew."
Now all three of them laughed as your lip quivered. 
You watched the first woman wiggle the top of her dress a little lower as she fixed her cleavage. "Listen, he looks hot in his dress whites. If she's not there when we go back out, I'm going to accidentally bump into him."
"No, you're not!" came one reply.
"I dare you," came the other.
You let the fabric fall from your hands as you squared your shoulders. They were talking about Bradley. They were talking about Noah. They were talking about you and your family. You were tired of being treated like you were a fucking joke. Then you unlatched the stall door and were met with three pairs of surprised eyes. 
------------------------
Who do they even think they are? And Bradley better fly in the air show, because I want Princess to get to visit the children's hospital. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 43
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