#fun things to do in morocco

[rapha-reads]

Theoretically, I knew organising funerals was a big, complicated thing. As reality is, I would very much like to run away screaming into a dark forest.

Edit: i'm a bit tipsy and the tags are full of typos. Don't pay attention.

[waugh-bao]

Henna from the Fes Old Medina (July, 2024)

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne can we get a part 2 for reporter!reader?? Picking up where it first left off their first night in the same home - and there's only 1 bed! - and reader shares the bed with him with the promise of not looking at his unmasked face in the middle of the night? And like them realizing over the next few days that they have very similar habits like tendencies to work throughout the night once they've got a lead and not having a set sleep schedule/unconventional sleeping hours.

OKAY HERE WE GO! be fed my lovelies <3 didn't exactly do one bed but hopefully you like it anyway ;) pt 2 of this

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. nightmares, hurt/comfort, jason sexy mf todd being a domestic dreamboat. 2.4k. pls enjoy

****

The Red Hood's apartment is... not at all what you expected.

It looks lived in. It, as awful a thought as it is, looks like an actual person lives here.

And it's not that you didn't know that Hood has a life outside of shooting and scaring, but the giant ficus and the overstuffed bookshelf seem paradoxical to everything you know about Hood.

You're realizing that you don't know him at all.

"So, uh." Hood awkwardly gestures to the apartment. "This is it. Welcome."

"It's nice," you say, stepping over the threshold. "Really nice. I'm a little jealous, Red."

"What can I say? Being public enemy number one is surprisingly lucrative."

You wander to the kitchen. There's a picture of him and a red-headed masked man who looks vaguely familiar. The man is smiling, his arm around Hood. There's a city skyline behind them you don't recognize.

"Where's that?" you ask. You don't expect him to answer.

"Morocco."

"I didn't know you had friends," you say, studying the Welcome to Vegas! magnet that's holding up the picture.

"Ouch."

"No, I—" You turn, shaking your head. "Sorry, no. I meant, like, people you do fun things with."

"Mm, yeah, I know what a friend is."

"Red, you know what I mean. I didn't know you took selfies and kept plants and read."

"Thought I was friendless and illiterate, huh?" He leans against the kitchen table, fist tucked under his helmet. "Y'wouldn't be the first."

"Hood—"

He snorts, shoulders shaking. You stop.

"That's not funny," you say, rolling your eyes. "Jerk."

"It's a little funny. You're always so sharp with your words, smartypants. No, while I'm very literate, friends are admittedly far and few. Arsenal's my closest friend."

"Is he also a crime lord?"

"Nah. Way better guy than me."

You look back at the picture and wonder how often Hood gets to experience joy. And when was the last time he had a vacation?

You feel a gentle tug at the back of your jacket.

"C'mon. You can snoop more later, promise. Lemme show you your room."

Hood takes your suitcase before you can protest. You follow him down the hall. There's one door to the bathroom—the other is to a single bedroom.

The bedroom is nice, bigger than yours at home. It's sort of what you expected (i.e., the mounted katanas on the wall) but also not (a giant framed poster of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film).

Holy hell. You're in the Red Hood's bedroom.

"Hood, I can't sleep here," you say, watching as he puts your suitcase in the corner.

The bed has been made, sheets tucked in without a single wrinkle. They're in various shades of red. You're sure Hood thinks he's hilarious.

"Why? If the swords are putting you off, I can move 'em."

"No, it's—I can't take your room, Hood. There's no way I'm doing that."

He shakes his head. "No, trust me, it's for the best. That couch is only comfortable to sleep on after a dose of painkillers."

"Dude, I am not making you sleep on the couch in your own house."

"Well, dude, I'm the host, and I'm the big and scary Red Hood, so what I say goes."

"Like either one of us actually believes that," you say, brushing past him to grab your suitcase. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. It's–it's very sweet of you to offer. But you physically exert yourself every day. You need a comfortable bed more than I do. Besides, it's not like I'll be here for long."

Hood steps in front of you, casually blocking your exit.

"Well, try this on for size: my room is more secure than my living room," he says. "If someone were to break in, they'd have to get through me out there first."

That... is, unfortunately, a good point. You're still extremely paranoid after the assassination attempt two nights ago.

"You're so manipulative, y'know that?" you grumble, leaving your suitcase where it is.

"I know. I come from a real fucked up family." He doesn't sound too put out by it.

"But if you get injured on patrol, I'm sleeping on the couch."

He pats your shoulder. "'S cute you think you can bargain in my house, smarty."

****

Dinner goes well. Hood makes beef bolognese and it's delicious. You take an extra long time in the bathroom before bed so Hood has enough time to eat, considering his refusal to remove his helmet. You'd offered to blindfold yourself—he'd just laughed.

"Sure you don't want your room? It is, after all, yours," you say when you come out, fresh from your shower.

Hood glances at you briefly from where he's washing dishes. He's out of his jacket and suit, now only in jeans and a white t-shirt. Your face feels hot for some reason.

"I'm sure. Cute robe."

"Oh." You look down at the Wonder Woman robe your friend gave you. "Thanks. Got it for my birthday."

"I'll have to get myself one too," Hood says, drying a glass with a polka dot tea towel. "Big Wonder Woman fan."

"Yeah? We solve this case, and I'll get you all the robes you want, Red."

"Tempting."

You chew your lip as you watch him clean up. "Want any help?"

"Go to sleep, star reporter." He sounds amused.

"You try to be a polite guest only to get shot down..." you mumble.

On your way to Hood's room, you get distracted by a pile of documents on the coffee table. You stop, picking up the corner to read one. They're about the case, about all the labs that might be involved in the experiments.

Well... you can read just one. It seems like Hood's compiled a lot of information on his own.

You stand for a bit until your legs grow tired. Then you sit on the couch, making notes of what you do and don't know on a nearby writing pad.

"Did you get lost?"

Hood's watching you, leaning against the wall. It's weird to see his bare arms. His very sculpted, muscled arms. You think you peek a tattoo on his bicep.

"My attention was caught," you say, unrepentant. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I haven't seen. You've been holding out on me, Red."

"'S just theories, mostly. Didn't feel it was relevant to mention without hard proof."

"Ever hear of a work-life balance?" you ask.

Hood walks over and joins you on the couch, making the cushion dip. You bump shoulders briefly, before you move.

"Look who's talking, Pulitzer prize," he says.

"That's a very reasonable goal, and I'm not obsessed with it. You're just a workaholic. I have activities outside of wo—oh my God, work!"

You shoot up from the couch, panicked. "Fuck. Fuck! I haven't shown up in two days! I'm—"

"Hey, easy," Hood says, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. "I called you out. Said you had the flu. No biggie."

"How did you call me out?"

He shrugs. "Pretended to be your boyfriend. Girl on the line was kinda rude about it. Didn't believe me at first."

"Red, I believe we've talked about these invasions of privacy."

"I'm just fulfilling my host duties. Is it true you haven't taken a day off in two years?"

You sigh. "Yes, okay? Fine. I'm a workaholic, too. That's why Jane, the secretary you spoke to, was so sassy about my having a boyfriend. It's pretty unbelievable."

"That's ridiculous. You could totally get a boyfriend. Some guys don't mind that."

"Like you?"

Hood tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Sure. Like me."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly most men."

"And thank God for that."

You look at each other for another moment. Hood's tattoo is in clear view now: it's a bird surrounded by flowers. You can't tell the species of either one.

"Cool tattoo," you say, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Hood turns his arm so the ink is hidden. "Thanks."

"Right." You start to walk backwards. "I think... I'm gonna go to bed."

"Sure," he says. "If y'need anything, holler."

"'Kay. Thank you for dinner. You're a great cook."

"You flatterer."

You smile. "Gotta stay in the Red Hood's good graces."

You start to walk away.

"Do you—waffles?"

You stop and turn. "Sorry?"

"I, uh... do you like waffles? For breakfast," he says. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Nervous habit.

"I love waffles for breakfast."

Hood nods. "Great. Good. Then I'll... we'll have those."

"Please don't wake up early just to make breakfast, Red."

"You're my guest. I'll do whatever I want."

You don't recall the prospect of waffles ever making your heart hammer in your chest. Weird.

"Right. Well, goodnight," you say.

"G'night, smarty."

****

You turn the case details in your mind over and over. It's better than thinking about beef bolognese and peeks of skin you shouldn't see and how Hood's sheets smell like lavender.

But you fall asleep thinking about robins. You don't know why. You can't recall ever seeing a robin in Gotham.

You're on a rooftop. It's the roof you met Hood on, all those months ago. There's a robin nesting with its babies on the crumbling bricks.

The sky is a sick shade of green. You see horrible faces in the shadows on the roof.

That face from the night of the attack returns. He's hideous. You remember the stench of his breath, the way his eyes bulged. He grins at you across the roof.

"He should've killed me when he had the chance," he says, voice distorted.

You look around. The robin is gone. Blood drips from your stomach.

You turn and your attacker is there, inches away. He plunges the knife into you again and again. You can't move. This is it. You will die.

You wake up to wet cheeks. You're hot, and you're screaming. You've died.

A cool, rough hand grabs your arm and you fight because you can't die, you won't die. Not today.

"Hey. Hey, hey! It's me, 's J—Hood. It's Hood."

The room is almost entirely dark, save for a sliver of light from the cracked curtains. You can't make out his face. His voice is different. Clearer. He's without his helmet.

You reach out and feel soft hair. The curve of a neck. A bicep. A warm, bare chest.

"Sure, honey. Cop a feel if that makes you feel better," he murmurs.

Your face screws up and you start to cry.

"Shit," Hood whispers. "Shit, shit. Can't get the comforting thing right, can I?"

The bed dips with his weight. Arms wrap around you. You launch yourself into those arms, that solid chest.

"He g-got me in the dream," you choke out. "He killed us, Red. I'm so scared."

"Nobody's getting me or you. I promise."

Hood's jaw is smooth. His hands are big on your back, rubbing circles. His bare knee bumps yours.

You clutch him tighter. He hums.

"'S okay," he says. "It's alright. I got ya. He can't hurt you. I'd tear apart anyone who tries."

He lets you cry for several minutes, petting you all the while. Hood's body is warm, almost unnaturally so, but his hands are cool. He engulfs you completely.

You wonder what color his hair is. His eyes. What shape his nose is. His... lips.

"God, I'm a terrible guest," you mumble after you've caught your breath. "Fuck. I'm so sorry to wake you."

He hums, the sound going through your chest. "Don't worry. I don't sleep much. And you're not the worst guest I've had. My brother stayed with me for a few days last month. That was hell."

"You have a brother?"

"Four, actually. And a sister."

"Wow. Do they know you're...?"

"Yeah. It was a whole thing. They're over it now."

"Cool family."

Hood grunts. "They're... something."

You smile and close your eyes. "You're not who I thought you were, Red."

"Yes, I know. Friendless and illiterate."

You pinch his side. He clucks his tongue in response.

"Cheeky," he says, the gravel in his voice shooting down your spine like lightning.

You pull back, suddenly aware of how long you've been touching him. Hood lets you have your space, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"You know what I mean," you say, glad it's dark and Hood can't see your wide eyes. "Not like that."

"I know. You thought I was a monster, ugly and alone, sleeping in a cave."

Blindly, you reach for his face, feel the shape of his jaw, his chin.

"Doesn't feel like an ugly face to me," you say quietly.

He exhales like you punched the air out of him.

"Trust me," he says. "The dark hides a lot."

You frown and pull away. "I didn't think any of those things, Red. I thought... I thought you were one-track minded. Now I realize that you're probably better adjusted than I am."

"Oh no, I got issues. Believe me. Definitely more than you. Not that it's a competition. 'Cept if it was, I'd win."

You smile. "Title is all yours, big guy. Gotta be a little crazy to do what we do."

"Sure. But you're the bravest soul I know. 'Cause you weren't forced into this. You hunted down the story yourself."

"Brave or stupid?" you ask.

"Brave. But it's a fine line."

Nope. It's definitely more stupid than not, clinging to the Red Hood in his own bed in the name of a case.

What are you doing?

"Ah, anyway." The bed shifts as Hood stands. You can just barely make out the shape of him. "You probably won't be going back to sleep any time soon, huh?"

You sigh. "No, probably not. Please feel free to take back your bed."

"Nice try. You, uh... like hot chocolate?"

"Oh. Yes, I do. But you don't have to do that."

"I've been awake," he says. "No trouble. C'mon."

Hood walks to the door and opens it. Light spills out and for a moment, you have a clear view of his back.

His hair is dark and wavy. His back is covered in silver scars and fresh bruises, broad and muscled. You can see the tendons shift as he walks out.

The Red Hood is a man. Made of flesh and blood. Carved, more like.

Your belly flutters. Fuck.

This is no longer just you working a case. And you're about as far from an informant as anyone can be.

[copperbadge]

I've been a little stymied and thus somewhat putting off work on the new novel, Simon's chef novel, not so much because I'm blocked but more because I wanted to get Royals/Ramblers put to bed and also I was struggling a little to determine the love interest for the story.

While I often tell the Shivadh stories from dual points of view, there's usually a character I think of as the protagonist and one as the love interest -- like in Infinite Jes we knew Michaelis but I had to build Jes (my initial conception of Jes was a trans woman but I had to shift that a bit for various reasons). I've been talking to you guys about this story for a while so I had a bit of market research I guess, which started fitting things into place, but last night was the first time I sat down and just kind of thought about it for a while, so I think I'm finally starting to get her built.

Someone had mentioned they'd love to see what I believe they phrased as "a salt-and-pepper butch" which I liked, and I've been meaning to introduce more characters of color, but I also knew I wanted her to be native Shivadh, so mostly I needed to work out how to navigate her heritage. I'm going to do a bit more research as I write, but I think I've established her as a Sephardic Jew of African heritage, her family having immigrated from Tangier sometime in the 19th century and still having familial links back to Morocco. She's a chef specializing in Moroccan-Sephardic cuisine opening a restaurant on the Promenade, a she/her butch around Simon's age (mid-fifties) who has basically worked in restaurants her entire life and is now finally getting to open her own. I really like the idea of her using fem pronouns but a male name, so I've been doing some research and I think it's going to be either Jacob or Elias -- I like Elias better but there's already Eddie and Ephraim, and I'm trying not to use the same letters for names over and over (M, G, and C are ruled out, too many of them already). I suppose I could go with the unorthodox spelling Ilias, but that looks odd especially with a sans-serif font.

Anyway, now the research fun begins! Time to come up with an appropriate name for her restaurant and then get cracking on the Meet Ugly (they meet when he accosts her for her ricotta and she tells him to get bent).

[ahummingbirdwitch]

Fantasize (Cypher x F!Reader)

Summary: After a long day, you find yourself in need of some relief, and who better to fantasize about than the agent you're crushing on?

Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,639

Warnings: female masturbation, vaginal fingering, sexual fantasy, p in v sex, voyeurism

Notes: Welp. The masked man wormed his way into my brain and made me write this. I've never played Valorant and I'm not super well-versed on the lore, but I did my best to work off of what I know and existing theories about Cypher and his past!

I fantasize about it all the time

If you were mine

I’d give this pussy to you 9 to 5

5 to 9…

~ ~ ~

You collapsed onto your bed, exhausted.

Freshly showered and sore from a hard day’s work, nothing sounded better than curling up in your quiet room and getting some well-deserved rest. And, if you were being honest, there was something else you’d been meaning to do; something that could very well relieve you the most—and calm your restless mind.

For the last month since you’d joined Valorant, you’d met many agents, each one captivating in their own right. But one agent in particular had captivated you the most.

Cypher.

The masked man from Morocco, the information broker whose face had never been seen by anyone in the agency. Every agent in Valorant had secrets, but Cypher had the most by far. He was enigmatic, impossibly clever, and seemed to know everything about everyone. He’d known you by name before you’d even introduced yourself to him, and in the short time you’d been with the agency, you’d become more than familiar with his ways—the little things he remembered about others, the watchful eye he kept on his fellow agents. No one knew anything about him other than his real name—Amir El-Amari—and his unwillingness to reveal his identity to anyone.

He was a complete mystery, and he had drawn you in completely.

You remembered your first meeting with him clearly. He’d been standing to one side of the room, nonchalant with arms folded, and said your full name before you’d spoken it yourself. You’d been stunned at first, but before you could turn accusatory, he had laughed. “I’m sorry,” he’d said, his voice softening. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He had then uncrossed his arms enough to wave to you with one hand. Despite the mask that concealed his features, the look on his face had seemed almost gentle. “I am Cypher. Pleased to meet you.”

Your initial shock had faded, replaced with something else—something you couldn’t quite understand at the time, something that made your heart thrum unexpectedly in your chest. And that strange feeling, you’d realize in the coming weeks, would only grow stronger.

On missions, you were often put on the same team as Cypher, and you’d come to know him more than you thought you would. At least, you’d come to know the side he showed to others. He was polite, easygoing, frequently cracking jokes and making fun wherever he could. He liked to stimulate his brain, particularly with chess and gadgeteering. He kept a level head in times of crisis, acting as a leader when necessary. He always had the team’s back, and, perhaps surprisingly, he was kind.

It would’ve been easy for you to write him off as a trickster, a spy who cared for no one but himself, who had no regard for anyone’s privacy. While it was true that he knew more than he should, and sometimes intruded on his allies’ personal lives, you’d learned quickly that he was not an uncaring man—far from it, in fact. He was never rude or crass. His jokes had no cruelty behind them. He was an attentive listener, occasionally even providing advice. It was clear he had boundaries, and there were lines he would never cross, despite his line of work.

You’d wondered endlessly about his past. There was so much about himself he kept hidden, so much you wanted desperately to know. What kind of life had he known before joining the agency? How could he be so secretive, yet so considerate? What kind of pain had he experienced? Had he had a family before? Who was Nora?

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the present. There were so many questions you wished you could ask him, but you knew he would never answer them. He was a mystery, one you might never unravel.

In spite of all that, though, you’d fallen for him.

It wasn’t wise to have feelings for your fellow agent, especially one like Cypher, but there was no denying it, and no helping it. Your heart jumped whenever he entered a room, and fluttered at the sound of his voice. You went out of your way just to try and impress him on missions, always keeping as close to him as you could. You savored those brief moments where your eyes would lock with his, or his hand might make contact with yours when passing you a weapon. Your spirit soared whenever you made him laugh, and you were always thinking of all the ways you could make him do it again.

It was probably the hardest you’d ever crushed on someone, and it was torture.

It was bad enough you both worked together, but on top of that, you were sure Cypher would never want you. He would never reveal his identity to anyone, let alone you. He was older, and had been with the agency far longer. He was always busy, caught up in an assignment or working away at something alone in his room. And then there was Nora, a name you’d heard him utter once or twice under his breath. Curious, you’d asked around about her; some agents theorized she was his wife, either dead or simply no longer around. There was no way you could know for certain, but whoever she was, it was clear he was still hung up on her.

You closed your eyes, sighing heavily. You didn’t want to think about any of that. Right now, you just needed to let go.

Climbing under the covers, you laid back against your pillow, then carefully slid your panties down to your ankles. Spreading your legs, you lifted one hand, guiding it tentatively between them. You swallowed, feeling the same anxiety you’d felt the last time you’d done this. This still felt so dirty, so wrong, but when you pictured Cypher in your mind, blue eyes glowing against the black of his mask, you felt yourself start to relax. You rarely did this, but tonight, you needed it.

Slowly, you eased your hand lower, and let your imagination take control.

You were pressed back against a wall, Cypher standing over you. You couldn’t read his expression, but the desire in his voice betrayed his emotions. “I want you,” he murmured, gazing down at you. “Right now.”

Your fingers found your entrance, already slick from just those few words. Biting your lip, you teased your slit.

Cypher brought his hand to your face, stroking your lower lip with a gloved thumb. You opened your mouth for him instinctively, and he chuckled. “I want to kiss you,” he said softly. “May I?”

You nodded without question. “Y-Yes.”

His eyes gleamed. With his free hand, he reached for the bottom of his mask, pulling it up just enough to reveal the lower half of his face. His lips curled into a smirk, then he was moving forward and kissing you all at once.

Your thumb brushed your clit, and you began to rub at it, continuing to tease your opening with your fingers.

Cypher’s kiss was shockingly fierce, and utterly mind-numbing. Moving his hands to your waist, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, swallowing the gasp that rose from your throat. You met his tongue with your own, kissing him back with matching fervor.

Thumb still working your clit, you dipped the tip of one finger inside your entrance. You needed more; you needed to speed this up.

In the blink of an eye, Cypher had unzipped your pants and pushed them down. Trailing kisses down your neck, he used his fingers—inexplicably ungloved—to caress your clothed pussy. “Oh, what’s that?” he said with interest. “Seems someone is wet for me.”

You grasped at his coat. “Cypher. Please.”

You felt him grin against your neck. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he purred. “I know what you want.” Slowly, deliberately, he slid one finger under the hem of your panties, then plunged it inside you.

At the same time, you parted your folds with your own finger, pushing it in deep. You let out a soft moan when you curled it inside you, finding that familiar sweet spot.

Cypher sucked on your ear, pumping his finger in and out of you. “That’s a good girl,” he cooed. “What pretty sounds.”

You whimpered.

“Make some more for me.”

You moaned louder, unable to stop yourself.

“Dirty girl,” he teased. “So wet already and I’ve barely started.”

You clenched around your finger. You could hear how wet you were, the sounds of your pleasure muffled only slightly by the covers. Just as you prepared to add a second finger, you decided to speed things along once more.

You were completely naked now, while Cypher was still clothed (you realized you’d never seen even a hint of his skin, but that didn’t matter). His pants undone at the waist, he hoisted you up by your thighs, hitching them around him as he pressed into you. “Come here,” he growled before pushing inside you swiftly.

You arched your back, grinding against your palm as you fingered yourself, imagining it was his cock spearing you open. How big was he? Fuck, he had to be big. Even if he wasn’t, though, you wouldn’t care. You just wanted him. You needed him.

Cypher groaned into your ear, starting slow with his thrusts, then fucking up into you like an animal. “So tight,” he gasped. “Oh, so tight for me.”

You were moaning more than ever now, losing yourself to the feeling of being full. You wished you could hear him moan with you, feel his body on yours. You wanted to kiss those lips. See his face. He was so handsome under that mask, you were sure of it.

Cypher bit down on your neck, forcing you to cry out. “Yes, that’s it,” he coaxed when he came up for air. “That’s it, sweetheart. I want to hear you.”

You threw your head back, moans falling from your open mouth. “Cy… Cypher…”

“Call me by my name, my love.”

Your body jerked, reacting to his voice in a way you couldn’t even control. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “A-Amir, please—”

“Just like that,” he whispered, gripping your thighs harder. “Yes. I know you’re close.”

You were. Two fingers knuckle-deep and your thumb at your clit, you were ready to burst. Just a little more, and you’d be right there, right there. “A-Amir,” you pleaded. “I—I need you—”

“I need you to cum,” he panted. “Can you do that for me? Hm?”

“Mm—mhm,” was all you could get out, ferociously rubbing at your clit. You knew you sounded ridiculous, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything right now. These walls weren’t thin, but you wouldn’t give a shit if they were. You didn’t even care if Cypher himself had mics in your walls, and he could hear every sound you were making. You just needed him. You needed to cum.

Cypher leaned in, panting like a dog, thrusting into you even harder and faster. “Cum for me,” he breathed. “Cum for me now.”

That was all you needed. The cord within you snapped and your vision went starry. You shut your eyes as you came, whining uncontrollably. “Cy—Cypher,” you blurted out, moaning long and loud. You couldn’t stop the words from escaping you. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”

You continued to moan as you rode out your orgasm, keeping your fingers still deep inside while your body spasmed with pleasure. By the time you could feel yourself calming, the trembling in your limbs fading to a dull buzz, you were unsure how much time had passed. You felt utterly numb, your heart racing and your chest heaving as you caught your breath.

You exhaled, leaning back against your pillow. You did feel better. Touching yourself to the thought of Cypher had brought you relief—just like you’d wanted. There was still a part of you that felt guilt, felt dirty at what you’d done, but you suppressed it.

No one knew, and no one would know. Cypher kept so many secrets, why couldn’t you keep this one for yourself?

You got up and washed your hands, then brushed your teeth and returned to bed. You nestled deep under the covers, closing your eyes as you prepared for sleep to take you. You’d worked hard today. You deserved to rest.

As you drifted off, you completely forgot that you’d confessed your love to the Cypher in your mind.

~~~

Elsewhere, in a secluded room in the dormitory, Cypher was wide awake.

Unmasked, and dressed only in light clothes, he sat at his desk in the darkness, watching the cameras as he did every night. There was a single camera for each Valorant agent, along with its own mic and recording device, positioned in the most secure, hidden place possible in every individual room. He recognized the invasiveness of it. He didn’t take pleasure in keeping tabs on his allies in this way, but it was necessary. He would do all he could to ensure he kept the upper hand, even if it meant spying on those he considered his friends. He had been through too much to let anyone take advantage of him.

For some time now, he had been scanning the cameras, studying each agent as they wound down for the night, and something in particular had caught his eye.

You.

You, coming out of your bathroom in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. The moment he’d noticed you in your state of undress, he’d averted his gaze, waiting for you to either leave the frame or cover yourself up. When you’d finally crawled into bed, he’d been content to turn his attention to other screens, but then your mic had picked up some… telling audio.

You’d started to touch yourself.

Cypher was not a stranger to the female body. He’d been with women, been married to one. Countless times, he’d been at his desk and witnessed female agents—and male agents, for that matter—masturbate. Whenever it happened, he always turned away, often shutting off their mics as well to at least give them some extra privacy. Some agents did it more frequently than others, and he had even grown accustomed to their routines for it. But you…

Well… you didn’t do it very often, that was for certain.

You were new to the agency. Young, spry, full of confidence. When he’d first met you, he was sure he knew exactly what you’d be like. He knew your type—hell, plenty of the better-established younger agents were just like you. But in all honesty, in the month since your arrival, he’d learned there was more to you than met the eye. He was surprised to still be peeling back layers of your personality even now, when normally, he would have had someone thoroughly pinned down. There was always new information to be drawn from others, yes, but even so, you continued to intrigue him.

Cypher had heard you touch yourself only once or twice before; only faint noises coming from your bathroom had made him aware of the act. He’d been certain that the next time you did it, you would do it in the same place, but for some reason, you had chosen your bed instead tonight. As was your right, certainly. But regardless, he had not been expecting it.

He’d shut off your mic without thinking, lingering on the image of you in your bed for just a heartbeat before quickly tearing his eyes away. There was something about this that unsettled him, made him uncomfortable in a way that was unfamiliar. There was nothing unnatural to him about masturbation; he did it himself, when he was most in need of it. But something about seeing you do it—you, his sweet, sincere teammate—made him feel almost… ashamed. Like he was violating you.

He understood the necessity of keeping an eye on the agency, knowing he could never fully turn off the cameras in the rooms, but for whatever reason, he wished he could turn yours off now, at least for a little while. He didn’t want to see you in such a vulnerable state. He didn’t want to commit your expression of pleasure to his memory, imagine what sounds you could be making…

Cypher rubbed his eyes now, blinking rapidly as he cleared his thoughts. He had to focus. He had to make sure everyone was asleep before he too allowed himself to rest. He would wait until you finished.

But then… how could he be sure when you would finish if he couldn’t hear you?

A strange feeling nagging at him, he turned back to your screen. Though your lower body was concealed by your covers, he could see your movements underneath, and could see clearly what you were doing. No doubt, you were fingering yourself.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. He kept watching, unable to look away from your mouth, ever opening and closing. You were still muted, but he didn’t need audio to know you were moaning. Of course you were. Everyone did when they self-pleasured. But then, unexpectedly, he saw you form a word.

No—a name.

A name? Whose name? Questions flooded his mind. If you were uttering someone’s name in this state, did that mean you had… feelings for them? Was it an agent? Was it someone on the outside?

Cypher tried not to dwell on it. This was your business; your moment of privacy. It didn’t matter to him whether you had feelings for someone, agent or not. It was nothing. It was just—information. Useless information—right?

But then again, if he had it… maybe he could use it.

Before he could change his mind, he turned the audio back on. A second later, his heart dropped when he heard you moan out.

“Cy… Cypher…”

He froze, staring at your screen. No, it couldn’t be…

“A-Amir… A-Amir, please—”

Cypher couldn’t believe his ears. It was… him. It was him you were crying out for. You’d even said his real name—he’d never heard you say it out loud before.

He didn’t understand. You wanted him? Why? Out of everyone in Valorant, why him?

Had he missed something, all those times he had gone on missions with you? He had noticed your enthusiasm when in proximity to him, your noteworthy eagerness to follow his orders, but he had never considered it out of the ordinary. He had always just thought of you as a dutiful agent, eager to prove yourself and gain respect from your more seasoned teammates. Was that not the case? Was the truth that you’d been interested in him all this time?

Your voice severed him from his trance. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “I—I need you—”

Cypher shifted in his seat, a sudden discomfort between his legs. His name sounded foreign your lips, and yet… sweet. He’d never thought he’d hear you say it, but more than that, hear you say you needed him. You couldn’t mean that. You weren’t thinking—too caught up in your own pleasure. You couldn’t possibly know what you were saying.

He could tell you were getting more desperate now, your hand moving faster under the covers. You had to be close. You gasped, shutting your eyes, then all at once you were coming undone, and he couldn’t look away.

“Cy—Cypher,” you cried out, catching him off-guard. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”

Cypher could hardly think as he watched you unravel before him on the screen, your words ringing in his ears.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The only explanation was that you had lost yourself. Why else would you say something as bold as that without thinking? You didn’t love him. You couldn’t love him.

There was nothing about him you could possibly want. He guarded his secrets more fiercely than anyone. He was so reserved, staying out of the limelight whenever he could. He’d kept his identity hidden for years, carefully cultivating the persona he would allow people to see. You’d never even seen his face.

And yet… it was his name you’d uttered when you came. It seemed you had fallen for him anyway.

No. No… you hadn’t. It wasn’t possible. You didn’t want him, and you certainly didn’t love him. Love was knowing someone, knowing all of their secrets and foulest parts. It was something deep and potent, and only grew with time. It was what he’d had with Nora, before he’d lost her and everything else.

You had not been in your right mind, that much was certain. Maybe you liked him, liked the person he presented himself as, but you didn’t know him. No one did, and no one truly would. He liked you, but… well, not like that. How could he? He was a broken old man, and you were young and lovely, still with hope for the world…

No. No, that wasn’t right.

It didn’t matter. You would go to sleep now, drowsy in the aftermath of your climax, and so would he. You would not remember your confession in the morning. He would, but he would not let it consume him.

This was… nothing. He was sure of it.

Cypher began to rise from his chair, only to be made aware of the painful hardness in his pants. He grimaced, looking back up at your camera. You were wrapped up in your covers, already asleep. You looked so innocent. Peaceful.

… Beautiful.

He hung his head, running one hand through his hair. Oh, sweet girl, he thought. What are you doing to me?

(LET ME KNOW IF Y'ALL WANT A PART 2)

[pedge-stuff]

strawberry margs (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual, yada yada.

happy belated labor day, y'all! tip your servers and thank your union reps.

(my union is on strike rn and, while it is ass, I'm very grateful for the people who are working hard to secure a better future for all of us. wga strong!)

summary: a totally normal labor day cookout with no big announcements whatsoever.

—————————————————————————

"Hey!" Pedro is slightly out of breath, flushed from the cocktail and the dry heat. Sometime in the fifteen minutes he's been gone inside the house, a tiny sombrero-on-a-headband has made its way onto his head. 

He plants a kiss on your temple, slinging an arm over your shoulder; the man gets a little possessive, after a couple drinks, but not in an unpleasant way. There's a pitcher of pre-mixed margaritas on the picnic table, and only a thin finger of the same drink left in his plastic cup. You squeeze the hand that now rests on your right shoulder. 

"Are you having fun?" 

Truthfully, yes. Parties usually aren't your vibe, and you'd been nervous about this one, for some reason. Had expressed as much to him, beforehand.

Oscar and Elvira usually host in the summer, the little patio attached to their apartment far surpassing anyone else’s outdoor space in the city. No reason at all to be nervous— you were just here, for the 4th of July, alone, kindly invited while Pedro was still filming in Morocco. (And oh, how the summer had changed.) Had been here almost every weekend since then, while things were shut down. 

But, this was the first party since… well. Since you’d put a ring on it, so-to-speak. 

The social etiquette of the whole thing has you flummoxed. Are you supposed to tell people? Is that annoying? Do you just not say anything? Wait for them to notice? Take the rings off and break up so you don’t have to do this at all? 

Ultimately, these are Pedro’s friends, so it’s been Pedro’s call. Not that you communicated that to him. Which might have been a mistake. Regardless, you’re deferring to him, despite the pit of stupid anxiety it left in your stomach leading up to the party. 

Not that you’re not proud of the ring, either. You couldn’t be fucking happier. Social anxiety is a tricky thing, apparently. (You might have way, way overthought all of this.) 

“Yeah,” you smile at Pedro, shaking cobwebs of shitty thoughts from your brain. “Yeah, this is lovely.” 

Another kiss, this one soft on your lips. He tastes a little fruity, some kinda flavored syrup in the margaritas. You’d accidentally opted for an IPA that tastes like ass, so you’re just carrying around the can as a prop. His fingers are sticky from something, you discover, as he licks them clean.

The arm around your shoulder steers you towards the long picnic table, around which most of the party is gathered: the hosts, and a few extended family members you’ve definitely been introduced to, before. Sarah is here, with Holland, which is a nice surprise. The kids are deep into a game of corn hole, in the small grassy area. 

You settle at the table, folding chair pulled flush against Pedro’s. A large hand palms above your knee, exposed below the inseam of your shorts. The sun is warm on your skin, fingers wet from the condensation of the can you’re pretending to nurse.  

“— the AMPTP doesn’t know what they’re talking about,” Holland is saying, from where you’ve entered the conversation. 

Oscar’s brother, whose name you should know by now, laughs. “Been four months now, though,” he shrugs. “You think someone would’ve budged by now, but—“ 

"Woah, woah." From his perch on his wife's lap, Oscar points, looking scandalized. “What the fuck is that!" 

Pointing, unexpectedly, at the ring on your finger. 

"Uh." Pedro's looks sheepish. 

"You're joking!" A hand dramatically clutches his heart, while Oscar swoons against Elvira. "I'm wounded. Sarah, did you know about this?" 

Across the table, she raises a glass, mockingly. "I picked out the ring." 

"That's not true—" Pedro begins to protest. 

"—Sorry, I forced him to make a fucking decision because he'd been agonizing over three options for like a month." 

Pedro shrugs. "I wanted it to be perfect," he says sheepishly, "sue me!" 

"No, no, backup," Oscar says. "I don't care about the rings. I can't believe you didn't tell me!" 

"I can," Elvira offers, "you've got a big mouth." 

He groans. "It's not like it was a secret!" 

Loud interruptions from across the table. "It was absolutely a secret, that's the whole point!" 

Oscar throws a hand up. "You already act like you're married, is anyone surprised about this?" 

"You were surprised." 

"I was surprised you didn't tell me! Wounded, frankly. Irredeemably. To the core." 

"Are you done?" Sarah rolls her eyes, squeezing Pedro's shoulder affectionately. "About damn time, but we're happy for you." 

She gestures at Oscar. “Yeah, yeah, we’re happy for you.” 

“With feeling this time.” 

“Guys,” Pedro interjects, “I wasn’t keeping anything from you. It happened two days ago!” 

He launches into the tale, eggplants and double-rings and all. The hand stays planted on your knee, and you take advantage, laying yours on top to thumb over the band on his ring finger. Someone tops Pedro off, and you reach for a sip— strawberry, you determine, is the marg syrup. You’re not really listening, but you lean back, content to watch him retell the story. 

The next time he kisses you, as the sun sets into the Brooklyn skyline, you taste like strawberries, too. 

[bubuslutty]

Day 6: you wanna be the Queencard?

this is part 6, all parts

pairing: angel/demon!fem reader x 141

word count: 2.5k

tags: fluff, poor attempt at humour (help), no use of y/n, 3rd person pov, proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes

warnings: none

summary: Price notices changes + Angel invites Soap to hang out <3

a/n: special thanks to my first ever beta reader @whore4dilfs! Feedback means lots to me and gives me boosts of motivation <3 

Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed this chapter/serie, means lots 💖

the title of this part is taken from this song.

Price wasn't stupid. He has eyes and can notice when people slowly start to change.

Since they have moved into the little home in London for work under Laswell’s watchful eyes, their new neighbour has been nothing but a pleasant surprise. At first, it was fun you know? Oh look, we have a hot neighbour and she’s nice! Angel would sometimes be talked about when they were having dinner, the men casually talking about how her cat almost ruined her flowers and she shouted at her. Or how last Saturday she almost tripped and fell face first when taking out the trash, or how she gets her laundry from the garden wearing nothing but a stupid t-shirt and pair of underwear.

Price is a gentleman, he tries his best not to stare, not to let his eyes linger on her when she’s out and about or greets him when he’s smoking in the garden. But she’s so fucking pretty, it’s frustrating at this point, how she manages to make his breath stutter every time he sees her. She could be wearing an old Minnie Mouse t-shirt, a pair of shorts and yellow Crocs with gardening gloves, dirty and sweating under the sun and digging up weeds and Price would always get caught staring at her, his cigar forgotten between his fingers.

He feels like a teenager all over again. He’s not a virgin for fuck sake. And he had his fair share of hookups here and there along with (failed) relationships. But he still catches himself staring at her lips when she’s laughing at something Soap said, throwing her head back and screeching with laughter. And she seems to not mind his men’s antics, either.

She doesn’t ask about their scars, doesn’t comment on Ghost's clothing choices or how he wears a mask 24/7 and never asks why she should call him Ghost either. She never asked them intrusive questions, not even when they were comfortable, bellies full of wine and warm under the sun on random afternoons. Angel hasn’t made any of his men or himself uncomfortable, not even once, and that’s terrifying because it’s so easy to get comfortable and open with her. It makes him want to talk about things he only keeps to himself. She makes him want to sit and ramble about what he’d do once he’s old and retired, maybe he’ll buy a boat, or a house up north, or move to Spain or to Morocco.

One fine Tuesday, Price was sitting on the sofa, scrolling on his phone while Gaz was curled up next to him, reading a random webcomic on his phone when their doorbell rang.

Gaz frowned, looking up at Price, "Are we expecting someone, today?" 

"No." Price shook his head. 

"I'll get it!" Soap exclaimed, skipping 3 steps and jumping down the stairs, wearing a tank top and a pair of comfortable shorts with little dog-printed socks. Initially, Soap thought it must be one of his packages that came earlier than expected, but once he opened the door he realised it wasn't the mailman but their hot neighbour. 

And she was absolutely soaked from head to toe, it was raining so hard outside that Soap accidentally got rain inside their house, wetting the floor under his feet

"I locked myself out. Can I please come in until the rain stops?" Angel asked, embarrassed and hair sticking to her neck and face. 

"Holy shit, yeah, of course!" Soap quickly moved to the side, allowing her to step inside their warm house and locked the door behind her. 

Angel stood there awkwardly, her clothes sticking to her skin as she shivered and looked at Soap with her wet eyelashes clumped together.

"What the hell happened to you?" Price said as soon as he saw her, sitting up properly.

"Got rained on, and uhm, I locked myself out," Angel said, squirming with embarrassment, her hands clutching the ends of her short skirt.

"Jesus…" He sighed and stood up, "Gaz, get her something to change into, and Soap, give her a towel and show her to the bathroom."

"You don't have to!" Angel quickly said, still dripping water next to their door, refusing to take a step in any direction. 

Price gave her an unimpressed look, "Really? You're dripping water all over the floor and you'll get sick." 

Angel pursed her lips and watched Price walk to the kitchen, turning on the kettle and preparing ginger tea for her.

Soap brought her a big towel, to wrap herself into and get to the bathroom, where Gaz handed her the smallest t-shirt he could find, a zip-up hoodie and a pair of shorts.

"I tried my best, I know none of this will fit but yeah-" Gaz mumbled, scratching the back of his neck and Angel smiled, shivering under the towel. 

"Thank you, Gaz." 

"No worries." He smiled and left her to change and dry up in the bathroom.

"Oh yeah," He stopped in his tracks and walked up to the bathroom's door, knocking twice, "Take a hot shower, you'll get warmer that way!" 

"Okay!" Angel said behind the door, wrestling with her wet skirt to pull it down.

. 

. 

. 

"Are you sure I need all of this?..." Angel asked, blowing on the mug containing the tea Price made her. 

"Angel, shut up." Price sighed, sitting next to her on the sofa. 

Angel was wrapped in a giant fluffy blanket, wearing military-grade warm socks, with a warm water bottle placed behind her back and a big mug of tea in her hands. 

"Damn, alright…" Angel rolled her eyes and took a sip of her tea, feeling it warm her body from the inside out.

Gaz sat down next to Price, curling up next to him and this time grabbing the remote control, looking for something to put in as background noise. 

Soap also came back down, but with Ghost this time, literally dragging him by the sleeve and making him sit down, curling next to him and throwing a leg over one of his ridiculously thick and strong thighs.

Angel noticed all of this but didn't say anything.

"So, how did ya lock yourself out?" Soap finally asked. 

"I was rushing and forgot my keys," Angel said, already annoyed at how she would need to call someone to unlock her door for her. 

"Went somewhere special? You looked nice." Soap said, making her smile. 

"Yeah, I went for coffee with a friend. And I bought a new ring!" She said and stuck out her hand to show him. 

Soap's eyes immediately sparkled with interest at the ring she showed him. Ghost glanced at him and at the silver ring she was showing him, and knew Johnny liked jewellery, especially silver.

Soap grabbed her hand and he leaned forward, "That's beautiful, where did you get it from?" 

The ring was silver with small pink and purple rocks on it, forming a little skull, obviously mimicking the tag on Kuromi's collar.

"This store is 20 minutes away from here by train! They have so many things and almost everything is unisex! I'll send you the address if you want?" Angel said, excited to be sharing something she found with him.

"I dinnae have your number though?" Soap realised. 

"Oh yeah," Angel was confused, with the number of times they've spoken and hung out, how come they don't have each other's numbers already?

"Alright, give me your number and I'll add you to our group chat so you can save their numbers as well, okay?" Soap said, taking out his phone and handing it to her. 

Angel typed in her number and saved her contact under 'Angel 👹'

When she handed him back his phone he snorted, "What type of emoji is that?"

"It's a demon!" She said with a grin and he laughed, shrugging it off.

The conversation was light and easy, they talked about random mundane things until Angel’s attention was stolen by the TV, she stared at the big screen with her mouth open and forgot to finish her sentence.

She snorted, and Gaz tilted his side to the side, “What’s up?”

“That’s you, John.” Angel pointed at the screen, where a big brown bear was napping under a tree on its back. Gaz and Soap started giggling like school girls at Price’s expression. Ghost on the other hand let out a small snort and pulled at the strings of his hoodie, trying to hide himself from his captain.

Price leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees and squinting at the screen like an old man, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“That’s literally exactly how you nap in the garden sometimes, and it’s cute!” Angel said, still laughing at his face.

“That’s not true, I literally have no idea what you’re talking about, the sun must’ve messed up with your head.” He said, shrugging and refusing to meet her eyes.

“John, stop playing, it’s you!” Angel whined, shaking his arm and making Gaz laugh harder.

“If I’m that bear, you’re that one.” He said, pointing at the TV. Angel glanced at the TV and saw a small cub falling on its face and getting a mouthful of dirt. She gasped at his audacity, “No, I’m not!”

“I have seen you almost trip outside when taking out the trash, 3 times already.” Price teased her, looking at her with a small smirk.

“And you laugh at a lady instead of preserving her reputation? How dare you, John!” Angel said with a hand on her chest and falling back on Soap with a hand against her forehead.

“That is not a way to treat a proper lady, John. Apologise!” Soap said, lower lip dramatically wobbling and cradling her head in his arms. 

“I’ll think about it.” Price chuckled at their antics and Gaz gasped, “Oh my days, you’re actually the worst.” 

“And yet, you still love me.” Price sighed.

“Unfortunately.” Gaz rolled his eyes and placed a kiss on the Captain’s temple before standing up and walking to the kitchen, to get himself a snack.

.

.

.

“I think your clothes should be dry now,” Soap said, opening the tumble dryer’s door and watching Angel bend down to inspect her clothes.

“They are, thanks.” She grabbed the clothes and placed them on top of the dryer, closing the door with one hand.

Soap watched Angel fold her clothes in a neat pile and her skirt caught his attention. It was a pretty short brown pleated skirt, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to run his hand on the soft fabric. Angel stopped and stared at Soap’s entranced and focused face.

“Nice, isn’t it?” She smiled and he snapped back into reality, retrieving his hand to himself.

“What fabric is that?” He asked and Angel just stared at him, “I actually don’t know…”

“Wait, maybe it says on the tag inside.” She exclaimed and quickly grabbed the skirt, flipping it inside out and frowning, when it was nowhere to be seen, “Oh shit, I must’ve removed it and forgot, sorry Soap.”

If there’s one thing Soap can tell you he likes about the woman, is that she dresses well. Her personal style is so cool and unique to him, every time she’s about to leave for work, he stops and admires her choice of clothes for the day. At first, it embarrassed him, how much he enjoys clothes and colours and fashion, but then it took years of working through internalised self-hatred for him to enjoy ‘womanly’ things without feeling like utter shit about it in the comfort of his own room. Thanks, Dad for the trauma <3

“If you want, I can try to figure out where I bought it from and buy you one? So we can match?” Angel asked, grinning and holding the skirt up in her hands.

Soap’s eyes widened a bit and he quickly spluttered, “No, you dinnae have to! Please, don’t bother.”

“You don’t like the skirt?” Angel’s smile fell.

“No, I do! It's just you dinnae have to bother buying me one, It won’t suit me.” He said, laughing and scratching his arm, no humour behind his laugh, if anything it was tainted with embarrassment and a hint of shame.

Angel’s eyes softened, “Soap, what makes you think it won’t suit you? Have you seen your thighs and tiny -excuse my language- slutty waist?”

Soap blushed bright red and barked out a laugh, “What the shite, Angel?!”

“It’s true! Don’t tell me Ghost has never told you this before?” Angel asked, tilting her head to the side.

Soap took a sharp inhale through his nose and slammed the door of the kitchen shut, “What makes you think he-”

“The man’s practically obsessed with your thighs, every time you sit next to him his hands glue themselves to them, especially when you’re wearing shorts. And I don’t even blame him, you have killer thighs. In my opinion, it’s a crime you have to wear trousers-” Angel said, waving her hands and the skirt around, and Soap almost died and closed her mouth with his palm before he could stop himself.

“Alright!”

“Hmm??” Angel hummed behind his palm, eyes wide.

“You want to buy me a skirt? Okay, just- just don’t–” Soap said, letting out a shaky breath and slowly removing his hand from her mouth.

Angel blinked up at him with big shiny eyes, feeling the borrowed shorts slowly slide down her hips. “Are you free next Wednesday?” She asked and quickly reached down the tie the short’s strings tighter to stop them from sliding down.

“Yeah, why?”

“Let’s play dress up at mine,” Angel said, grinning up at Soap.

“You want to-”

“Let’s hang out, and I’ll show you my jewellery collection,” Angel added with a small smirk, raising her brows.

Soap gaped at her like a fish, his mouth agape, and groaned, throwing his head back, “Fine, At what time?”

“How about 3 in the afternoon?”

“I’ll bring snacks.” Soap nodded, feeling an odd soup of excitement and anxiety brew in his stomach.

“Perfect, see you then, Soap.” Angel winked and grabbed the collar of his shirt, dragging him down to place a kiss on his cheek and happily skipped out of the kitchen.

“PRICE, CAN YOU UNLOCK MY DOOR NOW, PLEASE?” He heard Angel call out in the living room and leaned against the tumble dryer, glancing down at his thighs in his shorts. He chuckled and shrugged, “I do have killer thighs.”

Outside in front of Angel’s front door, Price was squatting in front of the lock, picking at it with some tool Angel has never seen before she gasped when a small click was heard and Price pulled the doorknob down, opening it.

Price stood up and turned to her, “Here we go, now go look for those keys, to make sure they’re actually inside.”

Angel raised a brow, “Should I be worried you can unlock my doors?...” 

“No, why? Are you hiding something?” Price asked, with a hand on his hip, wearing a small smirk.

“Of course not.”

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @loveyhoneydovey @cutiecusp @pinkwigonmytv @mandythemint @itsberrydreemurstuff @tapioca-marzipan @fruitymoonbeams-blog @poohkie90 @chaoticevilbakugo @anubis-reed @thefairybird @skytacvia @marytvirgin @cynicalmnm @maechanexe @t0jis-worm @1800imgay @4ndjelij4 @multitargaryen @lilpothoscuttings @mysticalpandabear @silviafantin15 @marvel-ness @bobastayhigh @originalsimp @h-leighh @gxldyjess @msdrpreist @whore4dilfs

[lionlena]

1. New job, new problems... (PedroPascalxreader) - one shot

Ok, so here's the first one shot of: one shots week. As I wrote, I was inspired by my problems, but don't take everything literally, because of course I changed some things, but generally yes, my new co-workers are mean bitches. But I've come to terms with it. At least instead of talking to them, I write ff xD

Summary: co-workers at your new job treat you badly. You try to hide it from your boyfriend, but even from a distance Pedro senses that something is wrong.

Warnings: little sad but later fluff and loving, caring Pedro

This can be considered as a continuation: ♡Just let it go…

You were happy when you got a new job where you made more money. No matter how many times Pedro told that you could have his money. You felt bad about it and wanted to prove to him that you weren't with him for the money.

However, you soon found out that your new job was a nightmare. And it wasn't the job itself, because it was easy and fun for you. Your co-workers were the problem. You ended up in a three-person team consisting of all women, and you felt their hostility from the very beginning. They had trouble giving you the simplest of information, like where the bathroom is. They responded with annoyance to your every question. But you thought they'd get used to you over time. You were polite and tried to have little chats with them, but it was not effective because they ignored you. With each passing day, you felt worse and worse, and as if your misfortune wasn't enough, Pedro flew to the set in Morocco.

You sighed heavily as you sat alone at a table during your lunch break. You've been scrolling through the photos fans have taken of your boyfriend. It always made you feel a little better and made you forget everything for a moment. Your boyfriend looked pleased, though you could see he was tired. You wanted so much to hug him and make sure he was taking care of himself.

Of course, Pedro wanted you to go with him. At least for a few days, but you couldn't take free time from your new job so quickly. Another minus.

And of course, every time you spoke to him, you said everything was fine. You didn't want to worry him. You knew he should be focused on a movie set.

You were just looking at a photo of Pedro wearing a white t-shirt that was visibly wet at the bottom. You smiled and started to wonder what your beloved had done. Knowing him, he probably spilled something on himself. Pedro was so clumsy sometimes. But you loved it about him. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even notice your co-workers walking past you. Their sudden giggles made you jump and almost drop your phone.

"Seriously Y/N," Jane said. "You'd better focus on your job, not on dreaming about some actor who doesn't even know you exist."

You had to bite your tongue not to say that unlike her, you work instead of filing your nails half the day.

"I don't know what these girls see in him," Michele said.

You perfectly saw how a few days earlier she was drooling at the monitor when she was reading an article about your boyfriend.

Before you could answer anything, they walked away laughing like crazy.

When you talked to Pedro in the evening, you could hardly keep your composure. He asked you several times if you were okay.

"Honey, you really do sound kind of weird," he said sadly.

"I'm really fine... I've had a busy day today and I think I'm having a migraine."

"My poor baby," he cooed. "Maybe you should lie down."

"That's what I'll do."

"Do you want me to talk to you on the phone until you fall asleep?"

You wanted to cry. Your boyfriend was so sweet and caring.

"Yes," you whispered.

You only felt worse for the next few days. Even during lunch, you didn't look at pictures with Pedro because your co-workers always sat at the table next to you. You were sure those bitches did it on purpose. It was ridiculous and you felt like you were in high school.

You started wondering if you should just start going out to some restaurant for lunch. You would have less time then, but you would gain peace of mind. Suddenly you heard some commotion behind you.

"Is that him? It's impossible," Michele murmured.

You turned around and your heart leaped. You couldn't believe your eyes. A smiling Pedro was walking towards you with a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. You couldn't take it any longer and ran over to him. He welcomed you with open arms and hugged you tightly. You pulled away from him after a while, to look into his eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the silly faces of these three bitches.

"What are you doing here?" you choked out.

"Did you really think I wouldn't sense something was wrong?" He stroked your cheek gently. "I'm back only for two days, but I hope it's enough."

You nodded and murmured, "I still have a few hours left at work."

"I know, but I couldn't wait to see you. I'll pick you up in the car so you don't have to take the subway back and we'll spend a wonderful evening together."

You blushed involuntarily, and he chuckled and whispered in your ear, "Yeah, I'm thinking about that too."

You shook your head and groaned as you realized you had to get back to work. You kissed Pedro on goodbye.

Suddenly your co-workers wanted to talk to you, but this time you ignored them. It was really sweet revenge.

Pedro has come for you as promised. On the way, he picked up food from your favorite restaurant. At home, he lit the candles and asked, "Dinner first, or bath first?"

You looked at him lovingly. "Dinner."

After you ate, he prepared an aromatic, warm bath for you. The tub was big enough for both of you to fit comfortably. You sat between his legs and rested your head on his chest. His big hands traced patterns on your breasts and belly. You finally felt relaxed. You closed your eyes and sighed heavily. You felt Pedro kiss you on the head. "My love, can you tell me what's been making you so sad lately?"

You nodded and squeezed his hand tightly. Though you tried to be calm, your voice trembled a few times as you told him about your job and how your co-workers treated you.

Pedro listened to you carefully, and at the end of your story, he hugged you tightly and kissed your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry babe. These stupid women should be glad to be working with someone as great as you." He placed a kiss on your shoulder again. "I know we've talked about this before, but you don't have to work. You know that. Why do I need money if I can't make the people I love happy?"

You smiled and squeezed his arm. "I know baby. But I want to go back there and watch those bitches die of jealousy because I have the most amazing and handsome boyfriend in the world."

Pedro chuckled and hugged you tighter. "Can this most amazing and handsome boy take you to bed and enjoy your body?"

"Yes!" you squeaked.

A week later, your boss appreciated your work and decided to transfer you to a new, more experienced team. Your new co-workers turned out to be very friendly and communicative. Enjoyed your job again. Though it was nice knowing you had a great boyfriend thanks to whom you don't have to work. And you don't have to worry about money.

Taglist: @creedslove

[didalexiabreakupwitholgayet]

Wait so how do we know about Mariona and Leila?

While we're at it, do you have any little facts about them (individually)?

it was one of those "it was obvious on social media at the time" situations. basically the same way we know about mariona and leila's other relationships after they ended things with each other.

so some fun facts about each individual:

leila's family is from morocco and she grew up spending her summers there. she even had youth call ups to the moroccan national team before choosing to stick with spain (how ironic that vilda now coaches for morocco!) and she knows some arabic.

yes, to answer second anon's question. leila is dating kleinecris, who is a dj/non-footballer.

she also hates germans! jk, it's just a classic meme.

source: @leonputellas

mariona is an island girl! she's from mallorca, one of the balearic Islands and her mother tongue is mallorquin, which is a dialect of catalan.

she's had a lot of long term injuries over the past few years, but the situation has stabilized. (i personally blame vilda for overworking her!)

mariona also plays the piano!

and finally have a pic of these two as baby gays back then!

[chthonic-cassandra]

So! I'm having my first BPAL experience. I have no idea how serious perfume people see the company, but I'm having a lot of fun.

I bought myself a bunch of samples as a vampire-birthday present last month. Part of my goal is to broaden my perfume palette, since historically I have worn only very simple single note florals, and tend to get a little scared off by more complicated things. To this end I bought the 'most beloved' set of popular samples, hoping that it would give me a representative range to experience, and also a few that specifically appealed to me.

I enjoy almost all of them, but my uncontested favorites have been among the ones I picked for myself, which tells me that I actually do have a sense of my own tastes:

Twilight - this is like the florals with which I am already comfortable, just a little more complex. I have been wanting a good jasmine perfume, and it balances beautifully with the lavender and honeysuckle. Totally within my comfort zone, but worth it.

Athens - I was intrigued by this because it's based on a classical perfume. It feels very pure and dignified to me, mostly amber and myrrh, very golden and gleaming.

Katharina - This felt like a bit of a discovery because it has a significant musk component, about which I felt uncertain, but apparently white musk really works for me, which is cool. The musk combines with apricot and orange blossom and it feels sensuous and elegant, but with a bit of sharpness.

I also like quite a bit, and am using for everyday wear, but am not quite as intensely enthusiastic about:

Alice - quite soothing, tea-like (milk, honey, bergamot, rose), feels pretty appropriate to my professional persona.

White Rabbit - also has the tea feeling, but with this clean peppery edge; this one also feels good for work

Maenad - I like the floral notes in this (poppy and carnation) but the strawberry is just a little too much. Wearable but doesn't feel quite me

These are gorgeous but intense and I'm not sure they feel like me; probably saving them for particular occasions:

Morocco - I like the spiciness of the carnation a lot, but the musk and sandalwood are a little much

Bastet - like a lot of the notes, especially the saffron and cardamom but again, just a lot of musk for me

And these, alas, did not work for me:

Blood Kiss - I was so interested in this! But the cherry came out really strong on me, which I didn't enjoy, and especially with the clove it's just not me

Kyoto - I need to retest this one, but it just felt a little generic perfume-y for me

[stonewall2023]

A Perspective on Noah Schnapp and Israel/Palestine from someone who studies the region

I don't really comment on this tag much. Over the last two years, it has just been a fun place for me to go because I've always seen so much of myself and my childhood in Will's character. It is a nice break from the stress that is my day job. However, it really hasn't been as much of a fun place to go in the last few months because of the posts on Noah Schnapp, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. As someone who has spent half their life in the region, speaks Arabic, and studies Israel/Palestine, I thought I would throw my two cents in on Noah and this whole controversy. As a supporter of Palestinian rights, I do think that there was a lot of things wrong with Noah's initial statements that he posted a few months ago. I don't think he understands the root causes of why Hamas has engaged in violent behavior, the historical occupation of the West Bank/Gaza strip, land confiscations, settler violence, etc.. The conflict is not black and white obviously. However, I am as bothered by many of the responses to Noah Schnapp on this tag as I was with Noah's take on the conflict. There seems to be a complete lack of empathy for the Jewish plight or an understanding of where the Israeli state comes from. Zionism emerged in the late 19th century among Jewish intellectuals facing persecution in Europe who thought that the only way the Jewish community could survive was by establishing a state of their own, and not all of these intellectuals favored going to Palestine. It was the British at the end of WWI that conquered Palestine and started allowing Jewish emigration under the Belfour Declaration. Jews fled persecution and massacres from not only Europe but the Middle East and North Africa over the next two decades. Half of Noah's family fled persecution in Morocco and the other half from Eastern Europe. That is his family's experience and why he supports "zionism" and the existence of Israel. While Israel's far right interprets zionism as the right to conquer the entire holy land for religious reasons, Israel's center and left wing sees it merely as the right to exist as a state and a secular one at that. Palestinians, for their part, feel that their land was taken from them through colonization, but Israelis feel that they were driven from their homes throughout Europe and the greater Arab world due to persecution. At the end of the day, the United Nations established Israel and Palestine in 1947 by splitting the land for both peoples, and that is what I support as do millions of moderate Palestinians and Israelis. I don't support the tactics and rhetoric of the Likud Party and Israel's far right nor do I support Hamas and other far right Islamists--neither of these sides supports peace, democracy, multiculturalism, or the rights of the lgbtq community, issues that are all dear to me. Noah was right to criticize people justifying Hamas' use of violence against civilians just as the supporters of Palestine are right to condemn Israel's government for the indiscriminate violence. Based on Noah Schnapps previous statements, he seems to support a two state solution and isn't calling for people to be massacred, which quite frankly, makes him quite moderate. While I don't agree with everything he is said or how he has said it, he seems like a good kid who just needs to learn more about the conflict...and quite frankly, so do many of you as well...Anyway, that's my take.

[octuscle]

Shiny fabric

As much as Mack enjoyed living in the countryside in Scotland, he also enjoyed the occasional trip to London. He loved the metropolis, which was yet another category entirely different from Glasgow. And Mack loved the East End. Here he found honest lads, real fellas, with whom one could have all kinds of fun. Fun of all kinds. Actually, it was usually enough for Mack if there were a few beers and if there was fucking afterwards. That was all he needed on a good night out in London. But tonight he was excited. He'd passed a store last night on the way to his hotel room that had Adidas Chile tracksuits in his size in the window. In XXL. Black with gold stripes. He had been looking for it for years. Just wasn't available in that size anymore. He had never understood why Adidas no longer produced it. He knew a whole bunch of fellas who got off on the shiny fabric. He wouldn't necessarily wear something like that in public. But at home. Jerking off in the fabric. He had gotten a boner right away at the thought.

The store was called CHAVTF and it opened at 11:00 on Saturday. At 10:50, Mack was at the door. He didn't want to take any chances, he had to have the tracksuit. At 11:15, a young man came and opened the door. Slim, he wore a tracksuit himself and an alpha jacket over it. Hair noticeably shorter than Mack's. Cool bastard, Mack thought to himself… The cool bastard asked Mack into the store, turned on the lights and asked how he could help. As cool as he could be, Mack asked for the suit from the store window. In XXL. The store clerk laughed. Mate, the only thing XXL about you is your dick. There are changing rooms in the back, get undressed, I'll bring you the tracksuit. Without thinking, Mack went into the locker room and stripped naked. Between his legs dangled his impressive cock, dripping precum. He looked at himself in the mirror with satisfaction. The young man came into the cubicle, the curtain of which was not drawn at all. He placed the suit on a stool, hugged Mack from behind, and grasped the massive cock with both hands. "To try on the suit, though, please wrap that beauty up," he laughed. Mack picked up the jockstrap from the floor and pulled it over his wiry, hairy legs. The jockstrap still reeked of last night's piss, cum and beer. He took the shiny size S pants and pulled them up. Fit like a glove. The store clerk cleared out a new shipment of goods and stopped briefly at the changing room. Looks extremely awesome, mate. Your customers are going to love it."

Mack reached through the fabric of his pants for his cock. "Hell, yeah," he said enthusiastically. "Here, try this T-shirt with it," the store clerk said, tossing him a compression shirt with Batman printed on it. Mack slipped it on and nodded his approval. Looked cool, accentuated his lean body. "Say, how much do you actually take for a date?" Mack said that depended on the customer, a quick blowjob here in the locker room would be free. But otherwise, he would be a luxury product. Only for an escort service he took 200 pounds an hour. Everything else cost extra. "Bloody hell," the clerk replied. 'I work two days for that. When things are going well. But don't your customers expect someone freshly showered? You smell like you haven't showered in two days." "Three, actually. I'm about to have a pervert jerk off while he gets to smell my armpits. Gives you some extra cash." "I really have the wrong job. Is the Arab accent a trick? Or are you really from there." Maleek explained in the finest Cockney accent that his parents were from Morocco, but he was born here. Of course, the Arab accent is a trick. But his clients would dig it.

Maleek paid for the three tracksuits that were still available in his size. He knew how dates with his next client went. If his tracksuit survived, his client would ask him to piss in it and then pay him easily five times what he had to pay now for three suits. So two suits on reserve was a wise investment. And just because he was a whore, he didn't have to be a bad businessman. But now let's go to the agreed meeting place and play the street hustler. That was part of the game with his client.

[cybertron-after-dark]

oooo kimmie, can you tell us about the tfa and rb overlap?

Everyone prepare yourselves bc the floodgates are opened and now I'm never going to shut up about this

In a meta context, there's SO much overlap between the shows. A lot of the same people worked on it, especially the writers, and it 100% shows. Mr. Marty Isenberg you are not slick.

In terms of the actual content of the shows though, the similarities are overflowing.

First and foremost, the emphasis on cultural differences and exchanges with the human-bot relationships. TFA had a good bit of it and it was very very fun every time it happened (bots not really knowing what level of self defense is appropriate to teach a child, being very confused about what exactly humans eat, bee picking up video games, bulkhead picking up art, ALL that good shit), but you don't always get to focus on it with all the action and political intrigue going on. And while rescue bots has its share of intensity, there's a lot more space for the mundane interactions. Blades being tv obsessed, the bots celebrating Allspark day, boulder's love of just Everything on earth. They had a whole episode just about teaching the bots to fish.

There's also the fact that everyone on griffin rock is a little bit Unhinged in a lot of the same ways the humans kicking around Detroit are. Just. Vaguely Weird Vibes in very funny ways. And the same tendency to switch from revering the emergency services which they may or may not know the bots are part of to wildly distrusting them on a dime. Optimus would not leave an encounter with Mrs Nederlander unscathed bro. I don't know if any of the bots could.

Speaking of humans, the villains in rescue bots feel like what the tfa human villains could have been if not for being wildly overshadowed by the decepticons. Evan and Myles? I think you mean Henry Masterson's shitty cousins he only interacts with through the CoD lobby. Madelyne Pynch? That's just girlboss Porter C. Powell. Quint Quarry? Sir that is Master Disaster if he existed for more than like two minutes of a singular episode and bagged more than one bot. Dr. Morocco? Meltdown but better at, like, everything (especially lab safety).

Then there's the constant state of both teams grilling the hell out of each other All The Time. Chaotic. Absolute Creechurs. They love each other so much but they also all live in close contact and see each other all the time and thus they are So Mean To Each Other (though they're a bit meaner in tfa just bc older audience)

The Sumdacs and the Greenes being two duos of an absentminded but well meaning technological genius and his intelligent and Highly Cool pigtailed daughter who both have to deal with the dad's tech going completely out of control is pretty on the nose too. (Oh God now I'm just imagining an au where tfp starscream successfully gets rid of Megatron after the space bridge explosion and sends him hurtling towards earth and crashlanding right on griffin rock whee doc green finds his head. Can you imagine. The misery of tfp Megatron having to deal with a human. He's having several mental breakdowns, 100%)

Even Cody and Sari have a lot of similarity as characters. Cody is a lot more mild mannered compared to the absolute Gremlin that is Sari, but they both still struggle a lot with wanting to help but feeling too small to make an impact, even though they matter so much more than they could ever know. They're surrounded by heros, giants, and it's hard for them not to feel like they're fading into the background. And when both their families realize how they've been making those kids feel they put so much effort to make sure they're loved and feel like their efforts matter. It's the same arc in different forms. And it's so good both ways.

Overall they're both shows that feel like they're trying to say similar things to different audiences. That Earth is wonderful and worth protecting. That any effort can make massive differences, even if you don't feel like you can do enough. That a hero can come from somewhere humble, and the best ones usually do. That people deserve kindness and a genuine effort at understanding. That nobody is without value.

And honestly? That what I love most about both of them.

[rems-writing]

Nice ass biceps

Pairing: idol!Jongho × witch gn!reader

Summary: All you wanted to do was have fun with your sisters and the archer at this private resort in Morocco. Then again, you live for your man going through his hoe era

Warning(s): crack, the reader being a huge fucking simp, ogling (i mean who wouldn't look at Jongho's nice ass biceps 🤤), Jongho making the reader flustered as fuck, intense kissing but this is still sfw

Genre: Cracked out fluff with some spice

Nets: @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

I'm hopped up on Thai coffee so let's mcfucking go

"NOOOOOO! I DON'T WANT TO GO OUT!"

"BLOODY HELL, Y/N! WE'RE LATE! THE GUYS ARE WONDERING WHERE WE'RE AT!"

"BUT I DON'T LIKE THE SUN!"

"I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T GET SOME VITAMIN D, I'M LOCKING YOU OUT OF OUR HOTEL ROOM FOR THE NIGHT!"

"THAT'S FINE! I CAN PROBABLY ROOM WITH JONGHO!"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

The next few minutes or so consisted of the Wicked Witch and the Good Queen dragging you, the Demonic Ace, out of the comfort of your air-conditioned hotel room and into the brightness and humidity that was the pool area this private resort in Morocco had. After successfully, albeit painfully, dropping your ass in a cabana that Ateez booked for them and you guys, Zelena and Regina went their separate ways. Zelena made her way to the jacuzzi while Regina was doting on Robin Hood taking photos of the guys in the pool. You hid behind the curtains of the cabana shyly, hoping you wouldn't be noticed.

Until your man decided to surprise you by sneaking up on you and hugging you from behind.

"Hi, honey."

It wasn't the way he greeted you huskily. You could handle that.

It was the way that you felt his bare chest touch your back when he pulled you in for a tight back hug. The worst part?

Your one-piece swimsuit has an opening in the back so you definitely felt his wet skin on yours. He kissed your cheek slowly before nuzzling his face into your neck.

"Come swim with me."

HOW COULD YOU FUNCTION WHEN YOUR MAN WAS BASICALLY IN HIS HOE ERA?!

You were so used to seeing him in layers that you had to process the feeling of his shirtless body against your own for a good minute or two. He didn't wait for your answer as he dragged you along the edge of the pool and wrapped his arms around your waist tightly before jumping in.

With you in tow.

You let out a slight scream as you were midair and soon landed in the pool with a huge splash. The rest of the members, your sisters, and Robin laughed as you came up to the surface and swam to the edge so you could climb out.

Only for him to stop you.

Again.

"Honey~"

"Jongho, no. I don't feel like swimming."

You internally winced as you looked up and saw his smile falter a bit. To make sure he didn't start feeling bad for dragging you into the pool, you quickly added something else.

"At least not yet. I'll join you when I feel like it."

"Ok, honey."

He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. You wanted to say something else but he already swam away, doing laps and racing Yunho and Mingi. Regina sat next to you and nudged you.

"Come on, Y/N. He's been wanting to do this type of thing with you for the longest time."

"I know but still... I just don't feel like it."

"Are you seriously that introverted to the point where you think you'll be worn out just from standing in the water alone?"

"Well... no."

"Then what is it?"

"I can't say..."

"I'm your sister. You can tell me anything. I won't judge."

"Ok fine! The truth is... I don't know how to swim."

You said that last sentence quietly and Regina nodded in understanding. She knew that Cora, the mother of the three of you, never was motherly towards you or Zelena. Only Regina. So it wasn't a surprise to hear this.

"It's ok, Y/N. I'm sure Jongho will understand."

"No, he won't."

"Trust me. He will. Listen. I'm going to be with Robin and the others. Either tell him or don't. He'll still love you regardless."

You nodded meekly at Regina's words whilst watching her stand up and go to where the others were. You sighed quietly and watched the water make tiny waves as you swished your feet around. You then looked up and saw the hottest sight of your man.

Jongho was leaning against the other side of the pool, arm resting on the edge as he looked off into the distance. Robin was standing in front of him, taking more photos.

You swore you were witnessing heaven unfold unto you.

The way his hair was slicked back and the droplets of water ran down his face and body were a sight to behold. However, that didn't catch your eye.

It was the way his biceps, all wet from the pool, glistened underneath the bright sun.

Every curve and trace of those nice and strong biceps had you in a trance. You were so lucky to be the one to witness those biceps every day. You then reflected on all the times those biceps were near you.

From seeing them bulge as he placed an arm around your shoulders to practically leaving nail marks in them whenever he held you close and kissed you senseless.

You were so busy ogling his biceps that you didn't notice him swimming towards you and coming up to you slowly until he was standing in between your legs.

What got you out of that trance was the way he leaned in and kissed you passionately as his strong hands firmly grabbed your waist and lifted you up from the edge of the pool and down into the water slowly. Out of instinct and fear of falling, your hands reached under his arms until they reached his equally massive and muscular back, palms flat on his skin. Jongho reached behind your head and held you by the nape to deepen the kiss while his other hand went to your lower back and pressed you against his body.

"GET A ROOM, LOVEBIRDS!"

The two of you were startled away from the kiss when San yelled at you. Everyone doubled over in laughter as both of you started blushing madly. Slightly irritated that your moment was interrupted, you snapped your fingers

And made a bra appear on San. Or rather, a bikini top.

After all, this was a private resort so you could use your magic at any time without people seeing.

Everyone directed their laughter towards San while the big man blushed and turned away from everyone. Jongho's laugh resonated quietly between the two of you and your heart melted upon hearing the sweet sound.

"Jongho, listen... I'm sorry for acting like a brat earlier. Truth be told, I actually don't know how to swim. Mother never taught me."

"Oh, honey." Jongho cooed softly and kissed your other cheek gently. "You should've told me earlier. Otherwise, I would have never dragged you into the pool with me."

"But you seemed so happy and I couldn't ruin that."

"Your happiness is mine as well."

You hugged him tightly and Jongho returned the hug, making sure his biceps were bulging a bit as he tightened the hug.

He saw you ogling but decided to not tease you.

As he pulled away, he kissed your forehead and held your hands in his own.

"Come on. Let me teach you how to swim."

AND SEE THOSE BICEPS IN MOTION?! HELL YEAH, BROTHA

[coquitokisses]

Trusting Again | chapter 010: starting again

Word count: 2574

series masterlist • previous chapter • next chapter

*a month later *

📍Rabat, Morocco

“Yesterday, when I was on my evening jog, I saw a bar not too far from here.” I said sitting on the kitchen counter “And it seemed pretty calm, to be honest.”

We’ve been in Morocco for a whole month and we haven’t really gone out. Which is making me go insane just because I’m a very active person and I’m so used to always be doing something at the compound that it just sucks to not being able to do things like I used to.

“The whole point of this is to stay low.” Steve looked at me

“But can’t we have a little bit of fun?”

“We can make it fun here.” He said, referring to the small house all four of us have been sharing

It really is very small. It’s just enough for us.

I sighed. “I wanna go to the beach.”

“Cat.” He looked at me “Look, I know this is hard for you, but can you at least make an effort?”

“I’m trying but it’s just.. I think I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“Don’t be dramatic. We can still do things we used to do at the compound, why don’t you go and buy some things to bake something?”

“I haven’t been in the mood for baking.”

“Just try it, will you?” He said “Sam told me about renting movies, how does that sound?”

“Well it honestly doesn’t sound bad.”

“Okay, then we’ll rent some movies.”

I sighed. “Okay.”

“You’re gonna be fine, don’t worry.”

“I bet Wanda and Vision are having fun.” I shrugged, he let out a chuckle “Scotland sounds better than Morocco.”

“Here it’s not so bad.”

I looked at him. “Steve, Sam’s the only one who knows arabic, we can’t even go buy groceries.”

“You seriously are so dramatic.” He rolled his eyes

“You know what I mean.”

“Just relax, when you least expect it we’ll be out of here.”

“And we’ll go where? To another country?”

“If that’s what’s necessary, yes.”

I sighed. “This is insane.”

“We can’t exactly go back to the compound, can we?”

“I know we can’t.”

“You’re gonna be fine.” He said and I looked at him “We are gonna be fine, don’t worry.”

I just nodded finishing the conversation and just changing the subject by asking him about dinner.

A few minutes later, I decided to go take a shower so I left to the bathroom. I closed the door and I removed my clothes before I opened the faucet and waited for the water to heat up.. but it never did.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” I muttered turning off the faucet

I grabbed my towel and I wrapped it around my body ready to start yelling at the guys for not telling me that they used all the fucking hot water.

“Dear god, give me.. patience, cause if you give me strength, I’m gonna kill them.” I sighed opening the bathroom door

I walked out to the living room and Sam was sitting on the couch while Steve was in the dining table eating some cereal and Bucky was just coming out of the kitchen.

“I’m gonna ask this once.” I said

“Oh hey, free show?” Bucky looked at me and Steve gave him a nudge “Ouch.”

“You wish.” I scoffed “Who the fuck used the last of the hot water?” I asked

“That was probably me.” Bucky said

“And why didn’t you say something?” I turned to look at him

“Why would I?”

“Because I have to take a shower and you know that I don’t shower with very cold water!”

“Then you should’ve showered earlier.” He shrugged

“You know I always shower late!” I said “What the fuck am I supposed to do? Shower with cold water?”

“Uh, yeah.” He nodded “Or wait until tomorrow I guess.”

“No, I’m not waiting until tomorrow, you’re gonna heat me up some water.”

“Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow

“You heard me.”

“I’m not heating anything for you, much less with that attitude.”

“You wanna talk about attitude?” I started walking towards him

“Okay, that’s enough.” Steve said

Let’s just say these little fights have been happening quite often since we started “living” together. And Steve’s kinda done with us.

“Can you please tell your little creature to heat me up some water?” I looked at him folding my arms

“Why don’t you just shower tomorrow?” Bucky asked

“Because I want to shower now!”

“You can shower tomorrow morning with hot water.” He shrugged

“Bucky,” I scoffed rolling my eyes “I’m not in the mood, seriously.”

“You never are.”

“Why would that be?” I gave him the most sarcastic smile I could make

“Can you guys shut up?” Sam said to us “I’m tryna watch tv.”

“Get dressed cause I’m not heating anything, babe.” Bucky said to me

“You’re seriously getting on my last fucking nerve.” I took a deep breath as I started walking away

I really wanted to punch him so bad. I know I said that he’s a nice guy and that I was actually getting along with him, but he’s been incredibly annoying. Not that we don’t get along anymore, it’s just that I’m now seeing this side to him that really makes me wanna punch him in the face. It’s annoying.

I walked into my room and I just I laid down on my stomach on the bed, with the towel wrapped around me because I just know I gotta go and heat up some water soon, and I grabbed my notebook to draw something. This is the only thing I can do to calm down because we don’t really have a gym here which is where I would’ve gone if we were in the compound, but we’re not, sadly. I would’ve gone for a walk also, but I can’t go alone so.

A few minutes later, I heard some knocks on my door.

“Come in.” I said

The door opened and Bucky was standing there.

“What do you want?” I looked back at my notebook

“The water is literally boiling and is waiting for you in a pot in the bathroom.” He said “So hurry up before it gets cold.”

“You heated me water?” I squinted having a hard time believing that he actually did it

“Yes, I did.” He rolled his eyes “Go or I’ll pour it down the drain.” He walked out of the room

I closed the notebook before I went over to the bathroom, again. I gotta use a fucking cup, but it’s better than having to shower with that freezing cold water.

Anyways, I hoped in the shower, I had to use some of the cold water to actually have the water at a nice temperature and then I showered. By “showered” I mean I had to use a cup.

I got out, I got dressed and then I headed to the living room. Steve was watching tv with Sam and Bucky was in the kitchen making a sandwich.

“Thank you.” I said to him

“You’re welcome.” He replied as he closed his sandwich “I’m not heating any more water though.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know.”

He walked out of the kitchen and I was kinda hungry so I decided to make myself a sandwich too since we didn’t really made dinner today. Once I was done, I grabbed a water bottle and then went to my room where I turned on the little radio that I had while I continued the drawing and ate my sandwich.

We didn’t really do much the rest of the night. I fell asleep around 11 pm. I know the guys were watching tv in the living room, but I have no idea when they went to sleep.

…

{ a/n: okay so I wrote this part a while ago and it’s written in third person so it’s just gonna stay that way, lol }

Cat rolled on the bed for the hundredth time letting out a sigh and looking at the ceiling. She turned her head to the side and saw the time on the clock on the nightstand. 2:34 am.

She got up from the bed and went to the bathroom, splashed some water on her face and then she walked out to go to the kitchen only to see Bucky laying on the living room floor.

“Are you awake?” She asked turning the kitchen light on so she could take a better look at him

“Yes.” He replied lifting his head and looking at her

“Why are you here?”

He sighed laying his head back down. “Can’t sleep.”

“Right.” She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge “Trouble sleeping.” She took a water bottle out and closed it again

“Exactly.” He said “What are you doing up?”

“I don’t know, I can’t sleep.” She walked out to the living room “You have insomnia?”

“Something like that.” He sat up

“I used to have a lot of insomnia when I was younger.” She sat on the couch

“Why?”

“Nightmares.” She shrugged “And everything used to scare me.”

“What’d you do?”

“Nick made a schedule for me.”

“Did it worked?”

“It did.” She nodded “I don’t think I suffered trouble sleeping again.. before what happened in Cuba, obviously.”

“It was like a trigger, wasn’t it?”

“It was.” She sighed “I thought that part was healed, apparently I was wrong.”

“How did you coped? You were still little.”

“I went to therapy.” She replied “I’m supposed to still be going, actually, but obviously this happened and well.”

“Did it help?”

“Well.. it wasn’t the worst thing.” She shrugged “My psychiatrist was nice at least.”

“So,” he looked at her “Nightmares.”

“Yeah.. they’re more like memories, sort of.. I don’t know how to explain it.” She said “Some are memories and some are like parts of my memories and turned into a really bad nightmare if that makes sense.”

“Memories of what? Bulgaria?”

“Most of them are.”

“What do you do when you have them?”

“I try to think of the present.” She said “It helps sometimes. Like, just thinking about how I am now, I’m not there anymore and I’m doing good, despite everything that’s been happening.”

“Why are they looking for you?”

She let out a sigh. “That’s a very good question.” She pulled her legs up in the couch “I can’t think about why they would want me now, it’s been years.”

“You think they wanna kill you?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” She shrugged

“Doesn’t that scare you?”

“It does.” She nodded “But I try not to think about that too much. I don’t want to live with that worry.” She added and then looked at him “What about you?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you scared that maybe there are still people from Hydra and maybe they’re looking for you?”

“Every day.” He replied “And now is worse because we have the government on our asses too.”

“Yeah, that really sucks.” She nodded “You mind if I stay here?” She asked laying on the couch

He shook his head. “Not at all, no.”

“I’m getting kinda sleepy and I don’t think I’m gonna be able to sleep if I go back to my room.”

“You sure? I think your bed is comfier than the couch.”

She let out a soft giggle. “It is, but if I go then I probably won’t be sleepy anymore and I won’t be able to sleep.” She said “You’re gonna head back to your room?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so, no.”

“Why?”

“Same thing.” He shrugged “I’m kinda getting sleepy too, but I know I won’t be able to sleep there.”

“But where are you gonna sleep?” She asked

“Right here.”

“You can have half of the couch.”

He chuckled. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Grab a cushion at least.” She passed one to him

“Thanks.”

“Are you sure you wanna sleep here?”

“I’m sure.” He nodded “Besides, I’d like to keep you company.”

She smiled. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“See? I’m nice.” He said

“Well you’ve been pissing me off a lot lately.”

“Well you’re pretty annoying too sometimes.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes “I’m going to sleep.”

“You want a blanket?”

“Don’t worry, I’m okay.” She grabbed a cushion and laid her head on it “Hope you can sleep well now.”

“I hope you do too.” He nodded

They didn’t stay up for long, they were talking for a bit until Cat fell asleep. Bucky stayed a couple minutes awake just looking at her, thinking how he has grown so fond of her in such a short amount of time. He felt like she was starting to bring him out of his shell a little bit and even though at first he was kinda scared about it, he likes the way he feels with her and he likes how comforting she is.

And he didn’t know it, but she was falling for him too a little bit. But she wasn’t too sure just yet. She didn’t want to think about it either because she thinks she’s not attracted to him and it’s just a friendship that they’ve managed to build in the last few months.

But she did like him. And deep down she knew that.

(…)

* next morning *

Cat lazily opened her eyes when she felt the sun hit her right in the face. She turned around so it wouldn’t affect her and she then proceeded to open her eyes. She had a blanket covering her and the smell of coffee immediately filled her nostrils. She looked to the side and it was kinda obvious that Bucky wasn’t there laying on the floor anymore. She lifted her head a little and saw the time on the living room clock. It was a little past 8:30.

“Oh you woke up.” Bucky’s voice made her wake up completely

“Yeah.” She yawned and he walked over to her

“How’d you slept?” He asked with a cup of coffee in his hand

“Good.” She replied “How about you? Please tell me you moved back to your room.”

“I didn’t, actually.” He responded lifting Cat’s legs so he could sit on the couch and when he did, he placed them on top of his

“What?! Why not?” She asked

“Honestly I just slept the entire time, I didn’t wake up until like almost two hours ago.”

“How’s your back? And your neck?”

He chuckled slightly. “I’m fine, I slept just fine, don’t worry.”

“Are the guys awake?”

He nodded. “I think Steve is.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Why?” He looked at her “You wanna make me breakfast?” He teased

“Don’t say it like that.” She rolled her eyes “I don’t want to make you anything, but I don’t mind doing breakfast for the four of us.”

“Ow, that’s nice of you, see? It’s so much better when you’re not a bitch.”

“Don’t start, it’s too early for you to start testing my patience.” She kicked him softly making him laugh

“Or what?”

“Or you’re not getting breakfast.”

“Fair enough.” He lifted both hands

“Who brought the blanket?” She asked him

“Would you believe me if I said it was Steve?”

“Was it really him?”

“No, I did.”

“Well that was very nice of you, see? It’s so much better when you’re not acting like a jerk.”

He rolled his eyes laughing. “Very funny.”

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[0alanasworld0]

Atay (Hakim Ziyech x reader)

Request: Hi please can you write something for ziyech I missed him and I missed ur writing (it could be something inspired by ziyech making tea w nayef and zouma!)

Warnings: none

“YES!” Hakim exclaims, quickly sitting up as he looks at his phone. That unfortunately brings your tired, cranky morning self up with him and you groan as you lament the fact that you were having a nice, quiet night in until it was rudely interrupted.

“Hakiiiiiiiiiiim!” you whine as you shift yourself so your head is laying on the pillow again. His eyes widen and he quickly turns to look at you, his concern overriding any urge to make fun of your current state.

“Sorry, love.” he says quietly and you huff in contempt.

“What could possibly have caused you to nearly throw me off the bed?!” you ask incredulously with a scowl and he chuckles, flicking your cheek.

“I’ll have you know, I’m not on the lineup!” he cheers, dropping back down to hug you and you can’t help but invite the warmth.

“That’s amazing, love! When does trai- wait what?”

“I’m not playing tomorrow?”

“Is that not a bad thing?” you’re completely baffled by his cheerful tone. These past few weeks, it was this very situation that had been upsetting him beyond heartbreak, he loved to play!

“I’ve got better things to do with my time.” he shrugs, tapping away at his phone with a smile on his face. You narrow your tired eyes, trying to read any signs of upset, even small ones but nothing. His eyes are bright and sparkly, his thumb is twitching in the way that it always does when he gets excited. He’s genuinely happy.

“Hakim…” you repeat yourself, placing a hand on his cheek and you successfully gain his attention.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” he smiles softly at your concern.

“Love, without meaning to sound bitter, this team sucks. There are so many things I could be doing rather than offering myself up as a scapegoat.” he explains.

“What’s brought all this on?” you wonder, a smile appearing on your face and concern melting away.

“When you have every important person in your life telling you the same thing day in and day out, it’s bound to make sense eventually.” he winks and you roll your eyes. He was right, you had all been telling him words to the same effect but none of you believed that he would ever actually take them to heart. But you’re grateful because he deserved to know his worth and not cast it in doubt every time his hard work went unnoticed and unappreciated.

You peer over at his phone out of curiosity and see a familiar name on the screen.

“Oh no…” you smirk, lifting your head to get a better look at his face.

“Okay this is nothing in comparison to my previous ideas.” he reassures you but you remain unconvinced. Free time was a rarity so when he was blessed with it, he just couldn’t help but go all out. He had to find something crazy to do: pottery painting classes, renaissance fairs, escape rooms, you name it. Nothing ever quite beat the balloon ride but he never ceased to find new and outlandish things to do.

“I just think that a day in with a couple of friends will be a worthwhile use of our time.” he shrugs, still looking to your eyes for any protest. He laughs when he sees your somewhat shocked expression. He knew it wasn’t usual behaviour for him but what could he say? He was just feeling a little teamsick and the closest thing he had to that team was a man he saw as a brother.

“It has been a while, would be nice to catch up, I suppose.” you contemplate and you can see his smile growing from the corner of your eye as you look into the distance. Your eyes drift to the frames sitting pretty on top of the dresser. Alongside the many photos of the pair of you on your various excursions lie the team photos. Photos from their field trips around the Qatari malls, the historical sites in Morocco. Of course there were the photos taken after their matches. Their faces all lit up with a mixture of joy and shock and disbelief. Those were his absolute favourites because they captured moments he could never have foreseen at any point in his life before that. He still struggled to believe that it happened.

He’s looking the same way and he immediately starts beating quickly as he relives the memories. He’s zoned out but he comes back to at the sound of his ringtone.

“C’mon! No time to waste!” he claps his hands before leaving the bed, much to your dismay. You groan out, flopping back into the warm sheets, still not ready to move.

“Sweetheart…” he taps your cheek and you roll your eyes, hauling yourself out and shivering at the cold morning air making contact with your skin.

You both hurry to get ready, opting for more comfortable clothes since you were likely spending the night with your friend. It seems that the pair of you aren’t the only ones to be excited because the whole car-ride there, you’ve both been receiving text after text from Nayef asking you what's taking so long.

Hakim doesn’t even have to knock the door before it sings open and the pair of you are engulfed in a bone-crushing hug by the man himself.

“I was starting to think you cancelled on me!” he tuts and Hakim slaps him on the back of the head as Nayef leads you to the living room where you see yet another friend already there and patiently waiting. He looks up from his phone, eyes lighting up at the sight of you and Hakim. He jumps up from his seat, going straight for Hakim for a bear hug that seems to knock the breath right out of your husband.

“It’s been way too long!” Kurt shakes his head and you can’t help but be in awe of the interaction. He simply didn’t get enough of things like this. The crazy adventures were great but sometimes he needed the simpler things that would bring him back down to earth and keep his heart and mind at rest. A reminder that he did have a little bit of back home still with him.

After a couple minutes of silent thinking, Nayef opts to get the dreaded uno cards out which had you a little concerned. You knew that despite being some of the loveliest people on earth that they could get a little… passionate about uno. But you decide to stay silent about it this once because it was also some of the best, cheap entertainment you could get your hands out.

The boys don’t disappoint as barely 5 minutes into the game Kurt has to go and change into a different shirt after your dear husband throws a cup of water over him and Nayef almost breaks the buzzer after being dealt some of the worst cards of all time.

“You know what! I’m really feeling some tea right now! How’s about we turn on a movie and I make you all some?” Hakim suggests, the tension in his voice is still very apparent from the game that really couldn’t have gone any worse for him towards the end.

“Please, as if you know the first thing about Atay!” Nayef laughs and Hakim gasps as he notices you giggling at him. You couldn’t help yourself, his cooking left a lot to be desired.

“Is that a challenge?” Hakim raises an eyebrow, while you and Kurt look on at the scene rolling out in front of you.

“Ha! How could it be a challenge when we know who’s going to win?” Nayef laughs mockingly and with that they’re both stomping over to the kitchen. The rest of you remain still for a second to process whatever’s just gone on. From one friendship-breaking event to another. Hakim stomps back in and he looks at the pair of you as if it's obvious what you’re supposed to do.

“We’re gonna need some judges, aren’t we?” He pushes you both into the kitchen with a shake of his head.

“Please try not to murder each other this time!” you sigh and they both look up with surprise.

“This man is my brother! I would never even think of such a thing!” Nayef gasps, placing a hand on his chest in offence. Hakim gives him a little side hug and you would be more convinced by the display if you hadn’t sat through as many of their tantrums as you had already.

At first, things start off well for both of them. No one spills anything, or scalds their hands. There hasn’t been any bickering over utensils and ingredients courtesy of Nayef always keeping a fresh stock of everything he could possibly need. Even before the competition began, you knew who you were going to pick as your winner. It was very simple for you. You’re content with that choice until you see something out of the corner of your eye. You don’t think you believe it so you quickly look up to what Hakim is doing.

As soon as Nayef and Kurt realise, they too break out into a fit of giggles while Hakim smirks, cool as you like. You think you counted 5 cubes of sugar but it could have easily been more, you feared.

The rest of the tea-making session is without any more heart attacks and runs smoothly, albeit the inevitable little spats between Nayef and Hakim. Apparently having the best spoon was a vital part of the experience and it seemed that neither would let up until they found a bunch more of the same spoon tucked away in the back of the cutlery drawer.

Once they are sure they have everything ready, and after a few more minutes of trash-talk between the competitors, they hurry over with the trays with you and Kurt trailing along excitedly. Hakim always flat-out refused to ever order Atay from the restaurants so it was quite rare that you had it, although you were both extremely fond.

You get comfortable as they begin to pour out the tea, the delicate scent of the mint warming up your senses. You get a little too excited before remembering that neither of them are particularly capable culinary wise and your love had a crippling sweet tooth.

As they both attempt to lift the teapot on the pour, their lack of experience becomes all the more apparent as their aim misses the cups and splashes onto the tray. You supposed that they were at least very enthusiastic about the whole thing.

When they finally both manage to fill two cups each, they attempt to show some class by gently placing the cups in front of you both, bowing their heads before taking their own seats.

You would have been more convinced by the display if you hadn’t seen Hakim and Nayef bicker over spoons or the eventful uno game before that. Nonetheless. You decide not to make a comment as you and Kurt grab your tea cups at the same time.

You take a precautionary sip, careful not to burn your tongue as you sample the drink. You’re pleasantly surprised by the taste. It's the perfect strength to warm your body up and the taste of the mint is refreshing on your tongue but not too overpowering. You easily finish the cup before taking Hakim’s cup. Again, you still know who your winner is but you humour the petty contest anyway. You glance up and you can see that he’s nervous. Only slightly, no one else would notice but you had spent far too much time with him to not be able to read him like a book.

You treat his cup the same as Nayef, one small sip to get a feel of it and it goes about as well as expected. You can barely taste the mint over the overwhelming sweetness, much like his coffee. One sip was more than enough but you recall the nerves on his face and remember the task at hand. You can almost feel your teeth hurting but you power through and drink it with the same, if not more enthusiasm. Its taking everything in your power to hold back a grimace because the sweetness was almost sharp.

You don’t get another chance to look up at Hakim as you’re drinking but you best bet that his are dead set on you. And he can see that you’re struggling in spite of your best efforts which causes a wave of irrational nerves to overtake him. He knew this didn't matter at the end of the day but still.

By the time you’re both done, Hakim keeps his eyes on the ground, twiddling his thumbs while Nayef looks up at both of you with a proud smirk on his face. He was within his rights to feel that way since his tea-making skills far surpassed his cooking but you had other plans, not quite ready to give him that satisfaction.

“… so?” Nayef asks expectedly and Kurt takes the opportunity to give his verdict first.

“Yeah its kind of obvious…” he trails off, looking at you expectedly and you shrug nonchalantly.

You both go to give your answers at the same time. One expected and the other… less so.

“Nayef” “Hakim”

“Wait WHAT?!” Nayef exclaims, Kurt and Hakim equally surprised.

“I like my tea sweeter.” You calmly justify, a small smirk painting your face as you take another sip of Hakim’s concoction.

“You may as well eat a whole sugar cube!” Nayef yells, you definitely don’t regret your decision now. You look up at Hakim to see him quietly laughing at the situation unfolding.

“Seriously? That’s your final verdict?!” Kurt clarifies, equally surprised but less hysterical than Nayef who’s currently burning a hole through your temple with his gaze as you look to Kurt, nodding surely.

“Yep.” You assure, making sure to pop the p to further irritate Nayef who rolls his eyes.

“I guess its a tie then!” Kurt sighs, shrugging his shoulders and Nayef goes to argue his case again but is thankfully interrupted by his temporary housemate.

“MOVING ON…” he announces, grabbing the TV remote and opening up Nayef’s endless film catalogue. Of course, still sulking but Nayef is eventually able to move on and Hakim lifts himself off of his seat to take his place next to you. He throws an arm around your shoulders and you lay your head on his and the chosen film begins to play. You decide it's only fair that you let the sore loser take his pick after the robbery that just occurred. No pushback from Hakim either although you had watched the particular movie so many times that you practically had the screenplay memorised but you refrain from making any comment.

By the time the end credits roll, it's completely dark out and you and Hakim take that as your sign to leave. You say your goodbyes and Nayef delivers a particularly firm handshake to you on your way out. Again, expected and perhaps deserved.

The car ride home is fairly quiet because babysitting 3 man children was quite the exercise and you had almost completely ran out of energy. Ever the gentleman, Hakim takes it upon himself to carry you to the house once he’s parked and he somehow manages to get the door open with you tucked safely and comfortably in his arms. He gently places you onto the bed, pulling you to sit upright so he can get you into your night clothes. He allows his fingers to ghost over your most sensitive parts as he goes about it, enjoying the way it sends a shiver down your spine while you scowl at him.

Once he gets into his own nightwear, he hurries to join you under the covers, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you into your chest which you happily cuddle into. One of his hands plays with your hair while the other draws smooth circles on your back and you can’t help but sigh out in relief and pleasure.

You yelp as you suddenly feel a small pinch at your side.

“Hey! What was that for?” You whine and he rolls his eyes, still unable to bite back his smile.

“You’re a little liar.” He puts simply and you look up at him, confusion apparent on your fsce s you gaze into his deep brown ones.

“You and I both know that that amount of sugar in my drinks is barely palatable for you. Why on earth did you pick me?” He wonders out loud and you laugh.

“Eh, who cares.” You shrug.

“You’re my husband, you’ll always be my winner no matter what.” You struggle to hold back a laugh at your cheesy words and he narrows his eyes at you. Within a second you’ve borh broken into a fit of giggles.

“The look on Nayef’s face was too good to miss, you know that.” You say as you attempt to catch your breath.

“I know but at the cost of how many cavities?” He jokes and you tuck your head back under his chin. He can still feel you laughing against the soft skin of his neck and smiles at the tickling sensation.

The exhaustion does finally take you over completely and you let out one last yawn before muttering a soft “I love you,” before falling asleep on his strong chest.

“I love you more, sugar…” he whispers. Barely giggling at his stupid little joke, being careful not to jostle you around too much and eventually the eventful day hits him too. He falls into a content sleep for the first time in ages, you nestled in his warmth and hopefully having dreams as sweet as his own.

Hello, loves! It’s been a hot minute but I’m finally gonna be rolling out my fics and getting back to working on all your requests. Of course I had to start with Hakim because he’s a favourite amongst everyone and I’ve been stalling on this one for the longest. Thank you all for being so kind and understanding about everything and I hope u enjoy!!!