#group therapy next door in 2 hours

[ozzgin]

I looveee the Monsters x Heartbreaker reader. Especially how reader is a b**ch.

So what about a motherly reader with the monsters? I do love to give those monsters an awakening breeding kink and future family when they meet motherly reader lmao

TW: monster smut, breeding kink, pregnancy talk

I think it definitely adds another layer of possessiveness. Reader is not only a player, but also a caring Darling who just happens to be hornier than the average person. So she will lovingly accept the courting of any monster, with a lot of preparation and plenty of aftercare.

The realization doesn't immediately settle in. Obviously they've never dealt with a human before, so pregnancy is borderline ridiculous and out of the question. The monsters just follow their instincts and filling Reader with their seed is merely a kinky finale to their play.

And then it happens. Maybe it's a pregnancy scare, maybe more knowledge comes to light, but the important conclusion is that Reader can indeed be bred. It's the ultimate way to mark their territory and permanently brand her as theirs. What better way to say "She's mine" than turning her into the mother of their children? Bite marks, scratches, rough handling, they all go away with time. This is permanent.

Except, you know, this flawless logic implies there's not a horde of suitors waiting for their turn. "You're all mine", but multiply it by Lord knows how much. Yet, regardless of the reasoning, the urge prevails. No rational approach would convince the beasts in heat that they should take a step back. Even the ancient, all-knowing eldritch creature is clouded by tremendous jealousy at the idea that some other pathetic brute would gain the upper hand with Reader. Absolutely not.

It's a terribly crass way of putting it, but once this desire develops within the monsters, Reader will be dripping every step of the day. Whatever was happening under the sheets before has now turned into who can fill Reader up the most.

*insert multiple gas pumps meme*

(Ah, yes, that's where the Breeding Olympics from the previous ask come in. I almost forgot. Naturally, only the best of the best may have the chance to procreate with the one and only human of their realm. Funded by the Mayor of Monstertown, the historical event will ensure that Reader doesn't waste her time - and birthing resources - with anything less than elite.)

[kiki-strike]

hi would you mind tellin me what ed ward was like? i might have to go there at some point and im scared also sorry if im phrasing it wrong and also also if you're more comfy dming or not answering at all thats fine

Hi yes I can!! And you can dm me if you want or send another ask if you have more questions :)

So there’s two kinds of 24-hour ED care, inpatient and residential. Inpatient is usually inside of a hospital, sometimes integrated with the psych ward (hence “ed ward”). This is where people that aren’t medically stable go (think serious heart conditions, people who flat-out refuse to eat, people who need to be in a locked ward to be safe). I haven’t been to inpatient ed, so I can’t say much on that subject. I do know that you typically stay in inpatient much shorter than residential.

I was in residential for four months. Usually ED treatment takes longer than treatment for depression and such and it’s not uncommon for people to go into residential more than once, but it’s pretty rare for residential to last more than six months. It’s expected that you’ll do a step-down plan which means after you leave res you’ll do a PHP and an IOP (PHP is when you live at home but go to programming during the day, usually 40-60hrs a week with all meals there, and IOP is usually half a day 2-3 times a week).

My res was three houses in a neighborhood (not in a row) and we would all go to the biggest house during the day. There was usually 2-3 group therapy sessions and 2-3 classes (DBT skills, nutrition, etc) per day, every day (inc weekends). We spent the rest of our time doing leisure stuff and eating.

Meals took up a HUGE portion of the day because we got half an hour for each meal, and then there was another half hour for supplements, plus 15 minutes for snacks and 15 minutes for snack supplements, so that amounts to… 4.5 hours every day. The way meals worked was each person got their own plate, to their own needs (some people got tiny amounts bc refeeding, some people got huge amounts bc restoration, etc). You got to choose 3 blacklisted foods that they would never give you, other than that if you didn’t like the food you had to suck it up. I chose spicy food, eggplant, and I think peanut butter? Because being vegetarian didn’t count (though I told them I was vegan instead because I was scared of milk😔). If you didn’t finish your food you got supplemented - 1/2 a sup for eating 3/4 but not finishing, one sup for 1/2-3/4, and two supps for eating less than half. Our supps were Kate Farms unless you had other dietary restrictions; I got switched to ensure clear halfway through because I went on a Kate Farms boycott to get it haha, WORTH IT ensure clear I love you. You had to sit at supps table for the whole half hour or until you finished it (it was a socially-acceptable choice to just sit there for half an hour). If you didn’t drink your sup you lost privileges for the next day, but unless you’d been there for a few months you didn’t actually *have* any, so… privileges were going on our daily 10 minute walk, the weekly strip mall field trip, and if you were VERY LUCKY going to the bathroom with the door closed. During meals there were a lot of blacklisted topics because yknow. Bad Time Let’s Be Nice. If you weren’t eating staff would gently encourage you but wouldn’t be mean about it, and the other patients would too. It’s pretty hard to fake eating there, but not impossible, and definitely impossible to do it without other patients seeing (because we all watched each other eat So Closely and we know all our tricks…) and other patients ratting you out is a definite possibility. You weren’t allowed to leave the table during meals but sometimes it happens. If you didn’t eat for two days they sent you to inpatient (they couldn’t actually force you to eat in res, but in IP they can tube you).

In our free time we all got really close. Everybody had a roommate and we slept in real bedrooms with our own bathrooms (which we could only use at night, they were locked during the day). A lot of us crocheted, there was lots of reading and coloring. We were allowed an hour of screen time, including TV, a day but that was taken away if you were Really Bad (think screaming fit not like “didn’t eat fear food”). If you were still in high school you were expected to do that (online) during free time (which was also a ticket to unlimited computer time during free time lolol, same with AA). The people you go to res to become like a weird version of your family, you’re together for months with ONLY each other doing something very emotionally taxing, so like within the first few days boom you now have 15 new best friends. It’s also very insular in that there are trends? Within your res? I started a rock painting trend, and also pestered staff enough that they finally let us garden (this was just me gardening and everyone else reading in the yard). Everybody listened to top 50 pop even if they hated it, because at res you like it (I’m very attached to billboard pop 2021 still), we all watched every Keanu Reeves movie because it’s funny to say that you have (none of us even liked him that much).

At res everything is funny because everything’s so bad? It’s this sort of delirious sheen that takes over everything, like looking at the world through a soap bubble. That said I was also on the maximum dose of seroquil. Everyone’s super supportive, not like the movies. If they didn’t actually want to recover they didn’t say anything about it.

Staff there consisted of three types: the babysitters (I don’t know their real titles), mostly college girls who babysat us and ran the houses, the therapists/psychiatrists who ran groups and did individual therapy, and the nurses. There was a nurse on staff until 11 every night, because we all had hot girl stomach issues and sometimes hot girl heart problems. They took blood once a week and there was a doctor that saw you once a month or if you complained about something long enough. The babysitters were all really nice though some were less pushover-y than others (let you stay on computer longer etc). They said they did room sweeps once a week but I had contraband they never found. They also said we weren’t allowed to touch each other for more than five seconds at a time (I am the reason that rule exists haha) but like… you have a roommate for a reason!! (I’m not even talking about sex I just mean snuggling ;-;)

In terms of visitors you mostly only got your parents or if you were married your spouse, maaaybe somebody’s friends came once? But not common. You’re not allowed alone time with your visitors (like prison!) and anything they give you has to be searched by staff (same as stuff you order online or buy on the strip mall field trips). A lot of rules are very very strict because people with eating disorders are masters at worming their way out of things which sucks but makes sense.

There were some unsavory things that happened to me there that I’d like not to talk about here, just know that when you go, it’s very possible for staff to lie to your parents/caretakers to the point that they don’t believe you. It is very hard to leave once you check yourself in, and if you do leave before they let you, that’s called AMA and your insurance won’t pay for the part of your stay you did already (which for me was $2k a day. For four months). Once you go there you’ve basically handed over your rights indefinitely to the program in exchange for learning how to eat good and not die. Which is better than dying but not amazing either, but that’s the way it is.

Some other unintended side effects:

1. If you were scared of blood draws before you went in you won’t be when you come out.

2. You’ll be able to pee anywhere no more pee shyness. Along those lines we had to describe our shit every morning to the nurse in earshot of everybody? So you won’t be embarrassed about that any more.

3. You might forget to close the bathroom door the first few months you’re home.

4. You’ll become very attached to some foods in res and then when you get out can never eat those foods again. For me that’s biscoff cookie butter.

5. You’ll be WAY less on your phone. You’ll know how to sit and wait instead of going on your phone immediately for entertainment.

All in all I’d say you get more freedom than the locked ward and less freedom than rehab, but stay longer than both of them combined. Fellow patients are awesome, staff is a mostly positive mixed bag, and activities are dismal (eating).

I wish you so much luck in recovery. You can do this! Every meal is a new beginning. I believe in you!

A funny for you for making it this far:

[flowercrowncrip]

whats the worst encounter of ableism you've had, online or irl?

whats the funniest encounter of ableism you've had, online or irl?

whats something you see thats overhyped in regards to disability or cripplepunk?

do you have an ideal mobility aid or ideal disability aid in general?

feel free to skip any/all :)

cw: suicide, ableism,

1-The worst encounter of ableism I've experienced was from a psychiatric nurse my GP referred me to during a mental health crisis. I told the nurse that I was having thoughts about ending my life and he told me that he felt sorry for me because my physical disability meant my life would never be worth living. Obviously "you're doomed to feel this way forever" isn't a safe thing to say to someone trying to get help during a mental health crisis. If he could have done more to help me end my life I think he would have, and this is one of the reasons I'm so afraid of the risks around assisted suicide for disabled people.

I feel the need to add that several years on from that appointment I'm so happy that I'm alive. I've had 15 months of therapy and I'm on meds that work for me, I have the right support and equipment to manage my conditions, an extremely fulfilling job, and an amazing support network. My disability is worse than it was back then but I feel so much more content with my life.

2- The funniest example of ableism is more a story of ableism in the sense that no one had thought properly about disabled access. Only the result was that me and some other students accidentally broke into a nightclub.

I was at uni making a video with a group of disabled students for disability history month. We were filming in the student media centre which was on the first floor of a shared building. On the ground floor and basement there was a nightclub. All of the organisations shared a lift.

So we go up the lift while the nightclub is selling tickets during the day, but in the time it took for us to finish filming, the nightclub had closed and locked up. We didn't know this, so just took the lift back down when we wanted to leave. Immediately as we stepped out the lift, the burglar alarm went off.

It was the loudest thing I have ever heard in my life. It was so loud that it was totally impossible to think. All we could do was try to get away as quickly as we could so we went to the doors, which were obviously locked.

So we went back up in the lift away from the noise to figure out what to do next. We called the campus security and tried to explain what was happening but they didn't seem to get it. Eventually they told us that they were heading over our way anyway (because of the alarm) and would check in on us when they came.

When they arrived they were knocking on the lift door convinced that we were stuck in there. When we said we were stuck in the building, not the lift they didn't get it.

They looked at us, a group of disabled people including someone with a cane, someone using crutches and me, very obviously a wheelchair user, and told us if we couldn't take the lift we could "just take the stairs".

I had to awkwardly point out that wheelchairs don't go do down stairs at which point they became very embarrassed (which I won't lie was quite funny)

In the end we had to wait an hour or so for the owner of the nightclub to drive up to campus with the keys and alarm codes and it was all fine.

3- I think that the value of independence is overhyped everywhere, including in disabled spaces. I've seen a lot of disabled people state that they're somehow better than other disabled people who they view as less independent than them. Relying on mobility aids, medications, carers, family members benefits and other supports don't make you less strong, less deserving or less anything.

I really struggled with my own feelings around this when I was a teenager. I found it so hard to ask for help because I thought it made me a "bad disabled person", and seeing that insecurity reflected back at me from other disabled people online only reenforced it.

4- My ideal mobility aid would be a fully waterproof electric wheelchair. I'd love the sensation of rain or hail in my face without being stressed about my chair. Or be able to go to the beach along one of those mat things and into the sea.

[ausetkmt]

The Department of Housing Stability (HOST) partners with many agencies citywide to provide shelter for people experiencing homelessness. There are many shelter facilities throughout the city, so rather than requiring people in crisis to navigate a complex system, we have identified specific centrally-located facilities as the "front door" access to the entire system. These locations have longer hours for intake and have transportation available to other facilities. They can also help people navigate which shelter facility is the best option for their individual situation.

The Department of Housing Stability is now offering a free circulator bus service for persons experiencing homelessness from 8:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. Monday through Friday.

1. 48th Ave Men's Shelter - 4600 48th Ave. - Denver Rescue Mission Serves Men. 24/7 shelter, three meals a day, showers, restrooms, and Next Step Services. Must be accessed from Lawrence Street Community Center.

2. 48th Ave Women's Shelter - 4330 48th Ave. - Catholic Charities Serves Women. 24/7 shelter, three meals a day, one light snack, showers, laundry, case management, mental health support, basic hygiene, etc. Must provide a name, be over 18, and comply with community guidelines.

3. Crossroads Shelter - 1901 29th St. - The Salvation Army Serves Men. First come first serve shelter beds beginning at 12 p.m. daily. Sack lunches and hot dinners at 6 p.m. Overflow begins at 5 p.m.

4. Samaritan House & Holy Rosary - 2301 Lawrence St. - Catholic Charities. Serves Women 5 p.m.- 7:30 a.m. Two meals, basic hygiene, basic linens, and emergency clothing. Case management, mental health support, and occasional programming. Participants are required to provide a name, be over 18, and comply with community guidelines.

5. Lawrence Street Community Center - 2222 Lawrence St. - Denver Rescue Mission Serves Men and Women. Day shelter, meals, clean drinking water, and restrooms. Also serves as a central location where guests can sign up for a bed and learn about the New Life Program and STAR Transitional Program.

6. St. Francis Center - 2323 Curtis St. 7 a.m. - 5 p.m. Monday-Friday. 7:30 a.m. - 4:30 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. Serves Men and Women. Phone access, mail, onsite storage, clothing, phone charging, & notary services. Social Services (offered M-F 8:15 a.m.-12:30 p.m.): Basic orientation to shelter, assistance in procuring IDs and Social Security cards, and family reunification. Wellness Services: Mental health and substance use treatment navigation, wellness group activities/therapy, crisis counseling etc.

7. Stout Street Health Clinic - 2130 Stout St. - Denver Rescue Mission 7 a.m. - 4 p.m. Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. 9 a.m. - 6 p.m. Wednesday. Closed Saturday and Sunday. Open to anyone. Primary care, including pediatrics, dental care, eye clinic, pharmacy, behavioral health care, mental health care, substance use treatment (medication assisted treatment), Medicaid enrollment.

8. Denver Central Library - 10 West 14th Ave. Opens at 1 p.m. Peer Navigators, information about services and support such as mental/physical health, substance recovery, reentry, human services, and food resources.

9. The Gathering Place - 1535 High St. Open 8:30 a.m. - 5 p.m. Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. 8:30 a.m. - 1:30 p.m. on Tuesdays. Serves women, transgender individuals, and their children. Meals, showers, laundry, phone access, mail services, nap room, notary services, clothing boutique, food cupboard, referrals for supportive services, housing focused case management, etc.

10. WellPower Crisis Center - 4353 E. Colfax. Open to anyone. Immediate help with a mental health crisis. Insurance is accepted including Medicaid and no one is denied services due to inability to pay. Visit the Walk-In Center or call 1-844-493-8255 or text "TALK" to 38255. Outpatient Services located at 4455 E. 12th Ave.

11. Smith Road Shelter - 6240 Smith Rd. - Catholic Charities. Serves Women. 24/7 shelter, three meals a day, one light snack, showers, laundry, Wi-Fi, computer access, basic hygiene, basic linens, emergency clothing, light storage at bedside, etc. Participants are required to provide a name, be over 18, and comply with community guidelines.

Source: denvergov.org

In Denver, there are several initiatives providing free transportation assistance to the homeless:

Regional Transportation District (RTD) Grants: RTD is awarding grants to nonprofits for funding free rides for those in need. These grants are intended to support transportation access for people experiencing homelessness among other groups. Source: https://denverite.com/2024/01/05/rtd-transit-assistance-grant-program-how-to-apply/

Travelers Aid at Colorado Coalition for the Homeless: This program offers a lottery for 16 bus tokens at 8:30 am on the first and second week of each month. The service is available at 2111 Champa Street, Denver, and operates from 7:30 am to 5 pm, Monday through Friday.  Source: https://www.denverhomelessconnection.com/resources/travelers_aid.htm

Denver's Department of Housing Stability (HOST): The City of Denver is expanding transportation access for those experiencing homelessness who utilize Denver's shelters. HOST is finalizing a $450,000 contract with Colorado Student Transportation to provide ongoing daytime transportation to and from overnight shelters.  Source: https://nationalcenterformobilitymanagement.org/news/denver-expands-transportation-options-for-those-experiencing-homelessness/

These programs reflect a concerted effort by various organizations and city departments in Denver to address transportation barriers faced by the homeless population, enhancing their access to essential services and support.

Navigating the City Without Wheels: The Transportation Struggle for the Homeless

In the landscape of urban challenges, one of the most pressing yet often overlooked issues is the lack of accessible transportation for the homeless population. Mobility, a fundamental aspect of urban life, becomes a significant barrier for those living on the streets. This article explores the difficulties faced by the homeless due to the absence of reliable transportation, underlined by pertinent statistics and studies.

The Scale of the Issue

Access to transportation is crucial for meeting basic needs, seeking employment, attending healthcare appointments, and more. For the homeless, the absence of personal transport or the means to afford public transit can severely limit access to essential services and opportunities. According to a report by the National Alliance to End Homelessness, transportation barriers significantly impact approximately 20-30% of the homeless population, hindering their efforts to secure housing, employment, and access health care.

Compounded Challenges

The impact of transportation difficulties on the homeless is multi-faceted:

Employment: A study by the American Journal of Public Health found that 55% of homeless individuals cited transportation as a major barrier to employment. Lack of reliable transport means missed job interviews and employment opportunities.

Healthcare Access: Transportation barriers are associated with missed or delayed healthcare appointments. The Journal of Community Health notes that 10-15% of homeless individuals have reported missing medical appointments due to transportation issues.

Shelter and Food Access: Moving between shelters, food banks, and other service locations can be a significant challenge. The American Public Transportation Association highlights that the lack of transport can lead to increased vulnerability, especially in severe weather conditions.

Public Transportation and Its Limitations

While public transportation is a potential resource, it is not always a viable solution for the homeless. Cost, despite discounted fares in some cities, remains a hurdle. Additionally, many shelters and service providers are located outside the central areas served by public transit, making access to these facilities a challenge.

Innovative Solutions and Community Efforts

Recognizing these challenges, some cities and organizations have begun implementing innovative solutions:

Free or Subsidized Transit Programs: Some cities have introduced free or subsidized transit passes for homeless individuals, though these programs are not widespread.

Shuttle Services: Certain non-profits and shelters offer shuttle services to and from essential service locations.

Bike Sharing Initiatives: Some communities have started bike-sharing programs specifically targeted at the homeless, offering an affordable and flexible transportation option.

The Road Ahead

While these initiatives offer some relief, a more comprehensive approach is needed to address the transportation barriers faced by the homeless. This includes policy changes to expand and fund transportation assistance programs, integrating transportation planning into homelessness support strategies, and increasing collaboration between transit authorities, non-profits, and social service agencies.

The struggle for transportation among the homeless is a critical issue that requires immediate attention and action. Enhancing mobility for the homeless is not just about providing access to transportation; it's about restoring independence, facilitating access to essential services, and supporting the journey out of homelessness. As we continue to seek solutions for the myriad challenges faced by the homeless, addressing their transportation needs remains a pivotal part of this collective effort.

[hypnotherapyschool]

Hypnotherapy Certification Training

Accreditation & Certification Accreditation

Professional Hypnosis Institute is the ONLY State Authorized School of Clinical Hypnosis in the state of Georgia for more than 20 years. We are Authorized by Georgia Non Public Post Secondary Educational Commission.

Who You Learn from Matters Our Director is a doubly licensed clinician with a Masters in Counseling Psychology as well as Marriage & Family Therapy. She has been in practice as a Clinical, Medical and Integrative Hypnotherapist for over 23 years.

Experience Matters The depth and breadth of her experience is comprehensive and includes her work within psychiatric inpatient units, outpatient counseling settings, hospital settings, inside the Emergency rooms and in private practice. Her Hypnotherapy and counseling programs are found in Juvenile Court, and have supported a variety of businesses. She has worked with individuals and groups in areas such as anxiety, depression, habits, addictions, weight, psychosis, mood disorders, suicidal thoughts, insomnia, pain, anger, career, pain, cancer, wellness, goals, self-hypnosis, life improvement, stress, trauma, relationships and sleep disorders.

Professional Hypnosis Institute's Hypnotherapy Certification Program incorporates her decades of experience. Students are taught everything they need to know to be proficient in the field, no matter who comes through their door or what that person presents with.

Professional Hypnosis Institute is endorsed by physicians, clinicians and world renowned experts in the medical and mental health fields. Certification What You Need To Know

If you want to be the best hypnotherapist and an expert in the field, standing head and shoulders above the competition, then you are in the right place.

While there are hypnotherapy trainings that certify a person after only 20-30 hours of training, the question to ask yourself is, would you want to put your life in the hands of that hypnotherapist?

​

By the time a person seeks out Hypnotherapy, they've already seen therapists, psychiatrists, physicians, psychologists and coaches without getting the results they need.

They feel desperate and deserve help from a person who can truly help them reach their goal. They need an expert. Is that who you want to be?

​

Hypnotherapy Certification Training

We have four levels of Certification. Each level stands alone and builds on the next. Level 1: Professional Hypnotherapist Level 2: Advanced Professional Hypnotherapist Level 3: Clinical Hypnotherapist Level 4: Clinical/Medical Integrative Hypnotherapist

​

Our goal is to help you build a practice that is rewarding on every level.

A practice that gives you the tools that will allow you to truly help others.

​

If you want a financially rewarding career that changes lives then let's talk.

Hurry. People need you!

VISIT US : Online Hypnotherapy Courses, 

[gongrabbit7]

5 Reasons Health Facility Operators Should Hire A Cleaning Skilled

Branded Mobile Apps Put your studio in purchasers' hands with an app designed in your brand. Know how your corporation is doing, drive growth, and inspire your staff. If you want to pace up the process, try online social media marketing and search engine optimization strategies. However, it'll take a lot of effort and time to get in contact with potential prospects this way. Keeping this in mind, an alternative means that can complement or even exchange conventional advertising strategies is health advertising. Social distancing in private or small group coaching periods will change your coaching experience. Since your favorite group train instructor and trainer might be following and imposing social distancing guidelines, gone are the high-fives, postural changes, or pre-session hugs. You’ll have to pay shut attention to your trainer’s verbal cues or demonstrations since physical touch cues are gone. You’ll also need to set your treadmill velocity and selectorized weights as nicely as retrieve and put away your dumbbells to keep away from touching the identical surfaces. Since most U.S. clubs have been mandated to close in mid-March, club workers throughout the nation have had no less than 10 weeks to ramp up their cleaning and security protocols. This means they put in the extra mile to make sure they work out regularly and keep an active way of life. One of the most typical household chores that these people neglect is cleaning their homes. Increase frequency of cleaning for surfaces and interactive elements throughout the venue (e.g smart kiosks, turnstiles). Place hand sanitisers close to frequently touched surfaces like door handles. Existing levers beneath the Infectious Diseases Act, together with the temporary suspension of operations, may be used against individuals and operators which might be non-compliant with the Regulations. Regulatory businesses will also impose penalties for breaches or lapses. Staph, fungi, and yeast pathogens are sometimes found on fitness center bike seats. One proactive measure entails wiping down machines and seats thoroughly with disinfectant both before and after use. Wide-mouthed bottles with screw caps are the best kind to make use of for exercises on the gym. The cause for it is because germs move inside from the rim, and they reproduce shortly. Tips About The Means To Clean Window Blinds It injects an answer into the material and extracts the dirty answer in the same movement. The Injection Extraction cleansing method is the best way to deep clean your material or room darkening window therapies. Once your blinds are wiped down, make sure to work in this kind of cleansing into your common cleansing schedule so the deep clear is a thing of the past. Next, open and shut the blind in the different way to wash the other aspect of the slats. If window coverings corresponding to blinds are removed, folks could find their houses turn into extra vulnerable to the surface circumstances, similar to extreme heat, chilly or wind. Though window blinds require little upkeep, it is advisable to wipe and clean them occasionally. Fill a bathtub or large washing sink with heat water and some drops of gentle dish cleaning soap. Let the blinds sit within the water for about an hour to help release extra dust. Rinse blinds with clear warm water and take away them from the tub. Start by putting down towels below your vertical blinds to catch runoff. Fill one bucket with clean water and one with soap and water. Using 2 soapy sponges, wipe both sides of the blinds on the identical time. Clean from the highest down so the blinds don’t come off their monitor. Rinse your sponges in clear water as they get dirty and move on down your blinds. To prevent water spots, use a dry fabric to wipe away additional water as you go. The Eight Greatest Toilet Cleaners Of 2022 This implies that cleaning your personal home frequently is highly unlikely. However, neglecting to take action results to dust build-up and litter around the house. There will come some extent when house cleaning can not be ignored and becomes a should. The best thing you can do to slow the growth of mold and mildew is make certain that your air flow fan is at all times on when the shower is in use. This will pull moisture out of the bathroom to the outside, taking away the environment that molds thrive in. Our Amelia clients are impressed by our consistency and skill to comply with through with particular directions. Every go to, the same two maids will return to your home or enterprise, which ensures that we study your preferences so we are ready to provide the best custom cleaning attainable. Refill paper products, such as toilet paper, paper towels, seat covers, and baby changing table covers. General cleaning in all rooms throughout each room we mud off all flat surfaces , clear baseboards and take away cobwebs. Grout is produced from porous compounds that will permit moisture via. Just run a pen over the grout strains in your kitchen or rest room tile and let it set overnight. Then use a sponge or material in warm water to wipe it clean and you’ll have brilliant grout strains for days. Some rest room cleaners may be wiped away proper after you apply them, like all-purpose sprays or glass cleaner. We take our rest room cleaning services very seriously as a result of we all know that it's serious enterprise. In at present's world, a unclean or clean toilet can make a powerful impression in the minds of customers and staff. 清潔公司 should count on your bathroom cleansing services to provide every thing you want, refill dispensers weekly, and preserve air care products. Five Well Being Advantages Of Furniture Upholstery Cleaning Sweaty men watch soccer on them after mowing the lawn on a Sunday afternoon. Since technicians use cleansing supplies and hot water, so not solely is your sofa cleaned however sanitized as nicely. This means your upholstery shall be free of unwanted germs and micro-organisms. Do not sit in your sofa for at least the the rest of the day and overnight. It is necessary that it is allowed to dry completely. If you've cleaned with a solvent-based cleaner, you could notice some odors from the upholstery, however they should dissipate after some hours. If odors persist too lengthy, you might have used too much cleaner and you must call a professional. Furniture cleaning can help to make your treasured sofa last more and look better the entire time that you simply personal it. You should definitely have a great cleaning routine for your whole upholstery. If the stain doesn’t go away after sitting with the answer, you'll be able to strive wiping it down with a cloth once the solution is sprayed. Your couch may be very moist after this so make certain to dry it completely earlier than you employ it. The next thing you’d need to do is vacuum the baking soda. If you don’t have a vacuum, you'll have the ability to simply brush away the baking soda out from the couch. If your furniture is starting to look light or musty, an expert cleaner may find a way to deliver it again to life. No matter how diligent you may be about maintaining wine, coffee, and different stain-causing liquids away out of your furniture, accidents are sure to happen. Food stains are equally troublesome; they are often troublesome to take away, can result in lingering odors, and might attract pests. If you’ve spilled anything in your furniture, it’s time to phone for knowledgeable. Austin's Stress Washing Providers Mason, Ohio With the information to use the perfect blend of stress washing and delicate washing, allow us to restore your own home to a safe and cleanly state. Any flat out of doors surface may be pressured washed, this consists of driveways, pavers, patios, and decks. However, it could be very important never stress wash vertical surfaces or these that are of a fragile nature such as house partitions and roofs. Doing so runs the danger of inflicting irreparable damage and the materials might have to be completely replaced. Our skilled professional technicians will ship glowing clean outcomes at your personal home. Revitalize the look and feel of your out of doors entertainment areas this season. One the day of your cleansing, you don’t should carry a finger, our technicians will get to work right away, treating your property as if it was our own. Happy Home boasts totally certified technicians, industrial grade materials and the equipment needed to provide the very best results time and time again. We take nice satisfaction within the evaluations gained from our joyful customers, and would love nothing more than the chance to restore your Happiness at Home too. As the old saying goes, a clear house is a Happy Home. Extend the lifetime of your personal home and enterprise property with Magic Bubbles strain washing companies. Regular energy washing can destroy areas of your house. The excessive stress can strip away your paint and take off the wanted protection that your personal home wants from wind, hail, heavy rainfall, and insects. In our delicate washing process, we use a particular chemical mix that may take away the mildew and mildew off without damaging your paint and residential structure. It’s quick, easy, and reasonably priced — and it will enhance the looks and health of your house or enterprise for years. Whether you’re repainting your exterior or re-siding your deck, a strain wash is the easiest way to prep the surface. This will take away any old paint or excess particles. Instead of utilizing cleansing options, energy washing relies solely on high-pressured water. I truly have used this company for several years to wash my gutters and do some power washing. Cleaning The distilled solvent is separated from any water and returned to the tank as distilled solvent. Since any moisture that may have condensed into water in the course of the process floats on top of perc, it is relatively easy to separate it. As the clothes rotate within the perforated basket, there's a fixed move of clean solvent from the pump and filter system. Environmental administration techniques purpose on the effective and efficient organization of work within businesses and other forms of organizations. As a consequence, while environmental management methods are generally thought to be proactive tools of company environmental administration, allowances should be made for their limitations. Prudential Overall Supply is committed to environmental stewardship and using our assets responsibly. By selecting Prudential you might be choosing a Clean Green Certified Industrial Laundry Provider. Prudential makes use of less water and fewer vitality through high-capacity washing, drying and finishing tools. By lowering the consumption of each water and power utilities, polymer bead business laundry systems present each vital environmental and price benefits for industrial laundry operations. The initial cost of those machines can be shortly recovered in cash saved on water and power. Many persons are involved by the chemical substances used by traditional dry cleaners. Small Business Workplace Cleaning Your workers respond to a cleaner surroundings, and morale is larger. They really feel that the activities you would possibly be engaged in are important, and can have a tendency to decorate in a more acceptable manner in a clear setting. Even a smaller operation that is stored clear will experience a lift in worker morale, and happier workers appeal to more business and do their jobs with extra delight in accomplishment. Nurturing a high-performance culture advantages your bottom line. Our objective at ecomaids of Carlsbad-Encinitas-Clairemont is to give you the best degree of green commercial cleaning services, so that you get a contemporary work surroundings you'll be able to be okay with. We don’t use unbiased contractors, however as an alternative have employed a employees of professionally educated cleaners. They’re bonded, insured, and committed to going the additional mile to get rid of the dust, dust, and germs in your surroundings. You can clearly benefit from office cleansing services to achieve joyful staff, peaceful places of work, high quality jobs and glad prospects. • We are asking those that request an appointment for providers to please let us know in the occasion that they or someone in their family, enterprise and so forth., had undergo from any illness inside the earlier few weeks. • We are enforcing the training procedures to ensure all cleaning processes are carried out correctly by each worker. • Our office and shop are cleaned and sprayed with a sanitizer on a daily basis. • All equipment is cleaned and sanitized earlier than getting into any residence or enterprise. Finally office accidents can be reduced if areas are kept clear and are correctly maintained. Cleaning machinery and gear acts as regular preventative maintenance decreasing the necessity for repairs. We perform both maintenance cleaning and restorative cleansing with using our truck-mounted scorching water extraction system. Whether your flooring is tile, concrete, carpet, or different type, we have the correct merchandise and tools to maintain it fresh, clean, and well-maintained. If your corporation has particular cleansing wants, we have all the gear and providers to handle even the most tough tasks – together with remediation services. Our professionals can do a complete walk-through, and help you establish the proper cleaning procedures for a spread of enterprise areas, from office to production areas. Issues such as standing water or the presence of mould or mildew can all be resolved rapidly and accurately. Allergies have an effect on many people, and are one of the prime three reasons employees miss work.

[pastpatientlywaitingforimagines]

just our hands clasped so tight | Bucky Barnes x Reader

WC: 4732

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader where Bucky has a nightmare and refuses to sleep after, thus begins your 'help Bucky get back to normal' routine. Set in the same universe as in all of our phases although you don't need to read that one to read this one. Basically- Reader was a science experiment who has some plant DNA and used to be a SHIELD agent who lived at the Compound with Bucky.

WARNINGS: an insane amount of kissing, one nightmare, brief mention of torture

~~~~~~

The metal door opened with a loud creak. A group of Hydra scientists were gathered around the dreaded chair, watching the reaction of the person held captive.

The scream told him exactly who it was.

He tried to get to you, tried to fight the people doing to you what happened to him seventy years ago, but he couldn’t move. He was frozen, listening to you scream for him to save you.

Bucky woke with a start, panting heavily. You were pressed against his chest, exactly where you had been when he had fallen asleep hours earlier. It had been a dream, he realized as he gathered you tighter into his arms. Though his nightmares were much less frequent, thanks to your constant presence in his life as well as taking his mandated therapy more seriously after you emphasized its importance, they were still typically flashbacks of things he had done as the Winter Soldier. This dream was different. This time it was you in that chair, you being tortured, you screaming for him.

“You okay?” you murmured, eyes still closed. Your hand found his chin, caressing his skin with your thumb softly. He responded simply with a kiss to your forehead. You hummed at the contact, sighing as you settled deeper into his embrace. He counted your heartbeats like sheep, hoping it would pull him back into a slumber. It was almost successful, but as soon as his eyes were closed the image of you struggling against the chair popped to the front of his mind and his eyes shot open again.

He wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

Instead, he carefully extracted himself from you and took a shower, letting the scalding hot water bring him further into reality. Once he felt slightly more normal, he padded into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. The clock on the stove read 2:37am. Once he had a hot cup of coffee in his hands, he turned on the TV with the volume so low he wouldn’t have been able to hear it without the help of the serum and crashed on the couch.

You joined him shortly after, draped in an old SHIELD t-shirt that reached your bare thighs and your favorite quilt wrapped around you like a cape. Bucky lifted his left arm in invitation, letting you tuck yourself comfortably under the vibranium. He adjusted the quilt around you, making sure you’d stay warm against the cool metal of his arm.

“You didn’t come back to bed,” you pouted into his chest. Your fingers reached out to take the mug from the hand that wasn’t holding you, grimacing slightly when the black coffee hit your lips. You handed it back to him after only a sip.

“Sorry, sweets.” He kissed the top of your head, half in apology and half reminding himself that you were really there with him.

“It’s okay,” you yawned, “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch if this is where you want to be.” Your eyes fluttered shut, falling asleep once again.

You didn’t wake again until the sun had risen. Bucky’s cup of coffee was long empty and he had watched replays of the same four football plays and six commercials for the majority of the morning hours. You pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek before sitting up, stretching your arms out and then standing. Bucky followed you to the kitchen, not wanting to be far from you if he could help it. Having you safely next to him was the only thing keeping him slightly sane.

You worked on making breakfast, humming quietly to yourself. Bucky recognized the song as one you and Natasha used to play while you trained together when you lived at the compound.

“Eat for me, please?” you slid a plate in front of him. You had spent enough time together to pick up on the fact that he wasn’t okay, even if he hadn’t explicitly told you such. It hadn’t taken much time at the compound to learn how the other coped with past traumas, and how to support each other when it got to be too much. Even though Bucky wasn’t hungry, he obliged and started picking at the eggs and toast you had made.

You perched beside him, watching him carefully as you ate your own meal.

“Do you want to go for a walk? The sun’s finally out and I bet there are some flowers starting to open,” you suggested once your plate was empty. You were hopeful, bright eyes still scanning his for any indication that the man you loved was still mentally there.

He nodded, letting you take his hand and lead him back to your shared bedroom. He sat on the edge of the mattress while you changed into jeans and one of Bucky’s henley’s. Once you were done, you handed him his own jeans and a black t-shirt he wore often. You were patient as he dressed himself, then reached his hand out to take yours. You kissed his knuckles with a cheerful smile, then led him outside.

You were right, of course. The sun was out and the flower boxes that lined the streets of Brooklyn were filled with brightly colored blooms. Bucky suspected you had something to do with the accelerated growth of the flowers, the way you kept eyeing him as you walked didn’t go unnoticed. Your efforts made his heart swell. God, he loved you so much. But every time he started to feel moderately better, he’d remember how much it hurt to see you strapped to that damn chair and the pit that had been in his stomach since he woke up would get even deeper.

Every so often, you’d lift your joined hands to your lips and press them into his skin. It was a soft and gentle reminder to the turmoils of his brain that you were still there, you were still real, you were still his.

Once you got back to your apartment you put on the sitcom you had been watching together, then located the book you were reading and tucked yourself back into Bucky’s side on the couch. The background noise was a welcome distraction. While you read, Bucky played with your hair and pressed kisses into the crown of your head every so often. He may have been fighting harder than normal to stay afloat in his own mind, but that didn’t mean he could stop showing you how much he adored you.

As soon as the sun started to set, you stood and met his lips with yours chastely before returning to the kitchen. Again, Bucky followed you, watching as you twirled around the space. Your cooking skill was one you learned from Clint and his wife, a skill Bucky was grateful for because he didn’t really know how to operate in a kitchen.

You didn’t ask him to eat this time, instead chattering about a movie you wanted to watch between your own bites. Bucky just pushed his food around with his fork, trying to listen to what you were saying as attentively as possible.

Once you were done you returned to the couch, opening your arms and letting Bucky settle between them. Your hands found his hair easily, twisting and carding in repetitive motions as you watched the comedic thriller you had just been talking about during dinner.

After the movie, you left Bucky to his own devices while you showered. He did the usual bedtime things- setting out a glass of ice water for you and adjusting the blankets how you liked them. He waited to get under the covers until you were ready, your familiar warmth against his side.

“Bucky,” you murmured once he had reached over to turn out the lamp at your bedside. He hummed his acknowledgement. “Loved you then, love you now.” He kissed the first part of you his mouth came into contact with.

That was always how Day 1 went, with you acting as normal as possible while still subtly reassuring him that you understood what was happening.

Bucky stayed awake all night, not daring to close his eyes out of fear of seeing you captured by Hydra again. Instead he re-memorized every visible inch of you, the way your eyelids twitched while you were dreaming, and your unconscious grasp at his body whenever he shifted. He couldn’t help but coax you out of sleep via kisses to your temple a few minutes before your alarm went off, he had been waiting all night just to see you smile at him again.

“Good morning handsome,” you cooed once you had turned off your alarm. You didn’t wait for a response, instead kissing both of his cheeks and then jumping out of bed. You emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later dressed in your preferred workout clothes. It was Monday and you taught an early self-defense class for women at the local YMCA.

Day 2 offered a different strategy. Day 2 was the day you confronted him head on about it.

“Will you call Dr. Raynor while I’m gone?” you asked, double checking that your gym bag had everything you needed in it. Bucky sighed loudly, trying to decide how to tell you no. He didn’t want to talk to Dr. Raynor. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Before he could convey that, you pressed both of your palms into his cheeks and forced him to look at you.

“I know you don’t want to, but you’re going to implode if you don’t talk about this with someone. Go have half a session with her, I promise you’ll feel better after.” You kissed him firmly, then bounced away and out the door.

His life would be so much easier if he didn’t love you more than anything else in the world.

“You’ve reached Dr. Raynor.”

“It’s Bucky. Can I see you today?” he grumbled. Curse you and your adorable charm.

He made it all the way to sitting on the couch across from the doctor before he gave up and wanted to go home.

“What’s bothering you, James?”

Bucky sighed. He had promised you months ago that he’d start being honest with his therapist. As much as he hated it, he had to see this through.

“I had a dream.”

“About the Winter Soldier?”

“About (y/n). (y/n) being held captive by Hydra. They were doing to her…” he shuddered, “they were doing to her what they did to me and I couldn’t stop it.” The words felt like gravel coming out of his mouth. Dr. Raynor nodded.

“When was the last time you had someone in your life that you cared this much about?”

“I don’t know,” he grumbled, “Steve, maybe? My ma and sisters before the war?”

“It’s okay to love her, James. You’re allowed to have good things. It seems like your brain still isn’t convinced of that. I know it’s hard, but let her in. Let her love you even when you’re scared. Can you try that for me?”

Bucky nodded, glancing at the clock. It was almost 10:00, you’d be getting home from your class soon and he didn’t want to miss out on a single second in your presence. He rose from the couch, only hesitating by the doorframe for a second.

“Thanks, Doc.”

“If you’re still struggling in a couple of days give me a call and we can talk through some other strategies.” Bucky nodded before he left.

He stopped at a flower stand before making it home. You walked through the door a few minutes after he had propped them up in a vase on the table.

“Aw, Bucky,” you threw your arms around his neck, “thank you, but you don’t have to apologize.”

He still didn’t know how he got so lucky to have the one person in the universe who could practically read his mind fall in love with him.

“Did you see Dr. Raynor?” He nodded.

“Good. I was thinking about going to the greenhouse today to get some more plants for the apartment. Do you want to come with?” Bucky chuckled as he pointedly looked at the multitude of plants that already adorned every open surface in your small home. He wasn’t sure where you thought you were going to put new plants, but it was a (y/n)-ism he’d never be able to say no to. You were determined to find the saddest looking plants and bring them home, then use your powers to bring them back to life. He suspected it had something to do with your own time held hostage, and a reflection of how you’ve thrived since being liberated from the scientists that once controlled you.

He held open a thicker jacket for you, having noticed the breeze that picked up when he was walking home earlier. You grinned at him as you stuck your arms through the sleeves. He then found your knit hat, gently sliding it over the top of your head and making sure your ears were covered.

He tried not to notice the stares while he followed you around the greenhouse, carrying every pot you handed to him and focusing on your quiet mumblings about the quality of each plant you stopped at. Yesterday’s early spring sun had been replaced by a curtain of clouds and the way you reveled in the humidity of the greenhouse didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky.

“I called Sam earlier,” you said once you were walking back home, “he’s going to come over for dinner.”

Bucky sighed. Of course you called Sam. Sam had worked at the VA long enough that he’d see right through Bucky as soon as he laid eyes on him. You had called Sam in hopes that Bucky would open up to him. You would never force Bucky to talk, it was one of his favorite things about you, but when you noticed him shutting down you often called in those who could press him about his struggles.

You had done it with Dr. Raynor this morning, and you were doing it with Sam now.

Just like he suspected, you left Bucky alone with Sam shortly after dinner had finished, asking the men to wash the dishes together.

“It looks like you’re having a tough time, man. What’s going on?”

Bucky just stared into the stream of water in the sink as he scrubbed a plate, waiting for him to go away.

“Buck.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“So he can speak. Now use those words to tell me why you won’t talk to your girl.” Sam returned to drying the pot Bucky had handed him.

“I… can’t.”

“Why?” Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he considered how long it would take you to forgive him if he happened to smash a few plates while beating Sam up in the kitchen.

“She doesn’t need to worry about it too,” he conceded.

“She’s already worried about you, man.” Sam’s tone was soft. As much as Sam was a pain, Bucky also didn’t deserve Sam’s kindness. “You could probably say four words total and she’d figure it out, just give her something so she can help. Or tell me.”

Bucky finished washing everything in the sink before speaking again.

“Fine,” he grumbled, punching Sam lightly in the shoulder as he walked past him on his way to find you.

“Thank (y/n) for dinner for me, I’ll see myself out,” Sam called after him.

Bucky found you reading in the bedroom, sprawled across the mattress in your favorite pair of Bucky’s sweatpants.

“You didn’t leave Sam unsupervised in our home, did you? I really don’t want to have to replace another TV remote,” you smiled over the top of the pages when Bucky closed the door behind him.

“He left.” Bucky collapsed onto the bed next to you, burying his face into your stomach. Your hands found a home in his hair once your book was discarded on the nightstand.

“Did you get a chance to talk?” you asked carefully. Bucky nodded, inhaling your familiar earthy scent. As much as he hated to admit it, Sam was right. He wouldn’t have to say much for you to understand what was going on in his head. You would know right away.

“Yeah, we did.”

“Good. I was hoping you would.” You didn’t say anything else, just continued your comforting movements across his scalp.

“I had a dream. A- a nightmare.” The words felt like molasses coming out of his mouth.

“I thought so. Are you ready to talk about it?”

As always, you were soft and Bucky took a minute to figure out what he could possibly say to explain himself.

“It was you. They were torturing you,” he managed. Your gentle movements stopped.

“Hydra?” you asked tentatively. Bucky nodded. “Oh, Bucky.” You propped yourself further up on your elbows, gathering him in your embrace. As much time as he had spent protecting you or fighting alongside you, he felt safer in your arms than anywhere else.

“Is that why you haven’t been sleeping?” Bucky’s silence was enough of an answer.

“Would you like me to try to help you sleep, or would you like to stay awake again tonight?”

“I don’t think it’s worth trying,” he answered honestly. Your hand found his metal arm, pulling it up to your lips before you slid out from underneath him.

“Sweets,” Bucky called tiredly, immediately missing your familiarity. He didn’t want to sleep, but he was still exhausted. He wanted to exist with you safely in bed, where he knew Hydra couldn’t get you. Or him.

You paused in the doorway, “I’m just going to get some water, do you want some?” Bucky nodded, pushing himself off of the bed and following you into the kitchen. You filled two glasses, handing one to Bucky before drinking your own.

Once your glass was empty, you set it in the sink and crossed the apartment to the record player nestled between two bookshelves. Bucky recognized the song as soon as he heard the first note from the trumpet. He set down his own glass and joined you, pulling you into his arms. You started to sway in time to the music.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he breathed. You hummed in response.

“I’ll never force you to tell me anything, you know that.”

“I do. It’s one of the many reasons I love you so much.” He captured your lips with his own. You smiled into the kiss and he reveled in the taste of you.

You tried so hard to stay awake with him the whole night. You watched two movies, danced some more, and even baked cookies while conversing with Bucky about the mundane. He found it easier to talk to you now that you knew what he had been trying to process on his own, though even on a good day you had always been the chattier of the two. Eventually you ended up back on the couch, tucked into his side reading more of your book. Bucky was trying to read a book of his own (the most recent edition of The Hobbit that you got him for his birthday) but kept getting distracted by the way your eyelids kept fluttering shut and your book drooped against your chest.

Bucky lifted it out of your fingers, carefully marking your page before setting the book down and pulling a blanket over you.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m awake,” you grumbled, eyebrows furrowing as you pushed against his chest in an attempt to sit up. For the first time since having the dream, Bucky found himself smiling as he gathered you up into his arms and carried you to bed.

You were his everything: his partner, his best friend, his rock. With you, he had a sense of purpose in his life, a reason to keep existing even when things got bad. Though he had done it before, he wasn’t sure what he’d do now without you.

He traced letters onto your skin for the rest of the night, writing the words he had been too scared to say for the past two days.

The first thing you did when you woke up was put your fingers to his own skin, running them across the shadows under his eyes that had been getting increasingly darker the longer he went without sleeping.

“Sweets,” you yawned as he spoke, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him with a content hum. “You know you could be with someone less… broken than me, right?”

“Why would I want to be with anyone else when I can be with you?”

“So you don’t have to deal with…” he gestured to himself, “all this.”

“I’m just as broken as you are, Sergeant Barnes.” You pressed a kiss to his jaw. “That’s.” Kiss. “Why.” Kiss. “We’re.” Kiss. “Best.” Kiss. “Friends.” Your grin got wider with every word.

You weren’t… wrong. The entire basis of your friendship was developed on the roof of the Avengers compound, where two kids (one being over a hundred years old and the other partially plant matter) found solace in each other from nightmares, science experiments, and just generally not fitting in. Everything about Bucky’s life had gotten easier since you found each other, since there was someone else to get it.

Even when a nightmare kept him from sleeping.

Day 3 looked a lot like Day 1, where you continued business as normal. If Bucky hadn’t told you what was going on in his head, it would have looked more like Day 2, but since you had an idea of what was happening, you were able to provide support and normalcy.

You spent the morning cleaning the apartment. Bucky tried to help, but you mostly tasked him with choosing the next record to play as you worked. As soon as you and Bucky had moved in together (to an apartment in Brooklyn at your insistence) you had started collecting records from the 30s and 40s. When Bucky had asked you about it, your answer was simple: you wanted this apartment to feel as much like home to him as it did to you. If that meant shelves full of plants and a record from the 30s playing, then that’s what you’d do.

Just another line to add to the list of reasons he loved you.

Once you were done cleaning, you made a sandwich and cut it down the middle. You handed half to Bucky, grinning smugly when he chose to eat it.

“Come here,” you tugged at his sleeve when he was finished. He followed you easily into your bedroom, the voice of Judy Garland still warbling from the living room. He watched you with soft eyes as you grabbed the hem of the Henley he was wearing, pulling it gently over his head.

You reached for your own shirt, still watching Bucky watch you stand in just your bra and leggings.

“Come lay in the sun with me,” you cooed, intertwining your fingers with his own and moving towards the bed, where the most perfect sunbeam was cast across the blankets.

As soon as Bucky laid on his stomach next to you he felt the warmth from the sun kiss his skin. You breathed a happy sigh, no doubt feeling the effects of the sunshine on your plant cells. Your eyes were closed, so you didn’t notice the way Bucky was admiring the slight greenish tinge that glowed under your skin while you absorbed the sun.

It was while he was cherishing this moment with you that his eyelids felt heavier than they had in days. He succumbed to the feeling, focusing more on how this simple activity with you made him feel rather than the fear of falling asleep. For the first time since he had dreamt about you being tortured, Bucky fell asleep.

~(y/n)~

As soon as you heard Bucky’s breathing slow, you opened your eyes. You had hoped basking in the sun together would comfort him enough to send him to sleep for the first time in three days. The sun was giving you the energy you needed, a welcome reprieve from the dark winter months that had just passed.

Admittedly, much of your time with Bucky since meeting him had been spent memorizing every nuance of his features. It was an activity you’d never get tired of (albeit a slightly creepy one). You had to keep yourself from touching him, not wanting to disturb the sleep he was finally getting. Even before you were dating, you always had felt so safe in his presence that you wanted to be as close as possible to him. You often piled on top of each other on the couch in the Compound lounge watching movies together, finding desperate reassurance from the other that you weren’t going through this life alone.

Since finally confessing your feelings to each other and moving in together shortly after, you almost never kept your hands to yourself and kisses were an added act of comfort that you could share. Sam was keen to remind you both that the other wasn’t going anywhere, that you had both safely made it out of a lifetime of turmoil, that you didn’t have to be gross every ten seconds when he was in the room too. Ultimately, Bucky was an extension of your existence and holding his hand was as comforting as putting oxygen into your lungs.

You stayed entranced in the nuances of Bucky’s face for so long that the sun started to set. Golden rays crept through the window, illuminating his features in the most charming way. God, you were so in love with this man.

He smiled at the same time he cracked open his cerulean blue eyes.

“Handsome,” you whispered, still a little bit in awe that this gorgeous, kind specimen of a human was willingly sharing a bed with you. Bucky chuckled, blinking against the sunlight.

“Morning sweets,” he whispered back, still grinning sleepily. You couldn’t help but match his smile as you shook your head.

“It’s only been a few hours. How did you sleep?” Unable to contain yourself anymore, you reached out to join your hand with his between your bodies.

“Good,” he answered, pulling your hand to his lips and kissing each knuckle.

“No dreams, then?” Hopefully his struggle had passed for the time being, and you wouldn’t have to watch the man you loved suffer without being able to help for a little while.

Bucky chuckled again, this time releasing your hand so he could slide his arm around your waist and pull you closer to him. You tucked yourself into his broad chest, happy to see him so happy.

“I did have a dream. A good one,” he clarified when your brow furrowed. A simple kiss to your forehead eased all of the tension you carried there before he continued, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Care to share?” you prodded gently.

“We were on the roof of the compound, under the stars, and we were dancing to that song you like. The one about dying together and not going to heaven or hell.”

“Mmmm,” you hummed, “that is a good dream. And a good song.”

“It is,” he trailed off, pressing his lips into your hair. “Thank you,” he finally murmured. You pulled back so your eyes could meet his.

“You never have to suffer alone, Bucky, not if I have anything to do with it. Just like you don’t let me suffer alone.” It was important to you to make sure Bucky knew you loved him unconditionally. Though he didn’t often show it, he was often insecure about himself and his past. You wished you could show him how you saw him, how you’d continue to care about him and for him even when you knew the darkest parts of him.

“Loved you then, love you now, sweets.” Your hands reached up to cup his cheeks.

“Loved you then, love you now, handsome.”

And if Heaven and Hell decide that they both are satisfied Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks Then I'll follow you into the dark -Death Cab for Cutie

Read in all of our phases here!

[torturing-characters-101]

I'm not sure if this is in any of y'all's realm of expertise but I was kind of just wondering how do psychiatric hospitals function? I know a fair bit about the routine of a hospital on like the patient end but for psychiatric hospitals I'm not sure, and I want to write a character having a stay at one. I assume it's similar to a normal hospital but I don't know what differences to account for. Also, for reference I'm assuming this is a very nice hospital that leaves the character in question in a more stable mental state, not a horrifically mismanaged/abusive one that you hear people tell personal horror stories about.

A psychiatry floor or psychiatry hospital is set up a little different than a medical floor/hospital.

Lets start by saying that you can voluntarily admit yourself to a psych hospital (or these days at least, ask to be put on the waiting list... sigh) or you can be involuntarily sent to a psych hospital by an emergency department doctor, psychiatrist or another medical professional. The orders for involuntary admissions only last 48-72 hours unless a court order is obtained (this depends on local laws).

The reasons someone might get sent to a psychiatry facility against their will include the patient actively being a danger to oneself or others due to a psychiatric reason, or the patient being mentally unable to care for or reasonably protect themself from harm. Here is a screenshot of part of a document used to involuntarily admit someone for treatment:

Often, the floors (or the majority of the floors) in psychiatric hospitals are "locked" units. This means that patients do not have the freedom to leave whenever they want, and that there are physical barriers in place to prevent someone from leaving. These can include something called a "Sally Port" where to enter or exit the unit, a person must pass through 2 sets of doors, and the first set must close before the next set can open.

Physically, good psych units are long hallways or large semi-circular spaces where any space on the floor can be seen from a central location (with the exception of patient rooms). Patients may have private or semi-private (2-person) rooms. Rooms are relatively bare and furniture is usually attached to the floor or designed to be particularly difficult to pick up. The doors/showers/windows/pens/cutlery are designed so that the person using them cannot use them to hurt themself or others. This includes doors without hydraulic closures (which a patient could hang from) and pens that are short and have a rubber outer shell (instead of plastic or metal) to prevent someone from stabbing with them.

Patients have their personal items searched on the way in, and a lot of times locked in a locker to be retrieved when they leave. Some units allow patients to wear their own clothes after a search, while others require hospital gowns with scrub pants or hospital pajamas. There is often a limit to what personal items can be brought onto the floor, if any, for the safety of the individual and those they will interact with.

The goal is to create an environment where someone who is in danger of hurting themself or others doesn't have to worry that they'll get the opportunity.

During the day, there are generally group therapy sessions, education sessions, individual therapy sessions, and individual meetings with a psychiatrist. Often there is a fairly strict daily routine, with specific hours set aside for monitored outdoor time, food, exercise, appointments, groups, etc...

Staff must put eyes on each patient and document their condition every 15 minutes, day and night. Usually this responsibility is shared among staff members. Vital signs, like heart rate, respiratory rate, etc.. are taken every 12 hours or so to help determine physical response to treatment.

Usually, a component of therapy is medication, and a patient will get evaluated by a psychiatrist initially and then repeatedly throughout their stay. While they will get daily maintenance meds, they can also either ask for as-needed meds if they are cognizant enough to do so, or have as-needed meds available in case they become an active danger to themselves or others. These are frequently anti-anxiety or antipsychotic medications.

Restraints and seclusion rooms do exist, though orders for these often only last 2-4 hours for adults, at which point they are re-evaluated by the psychiatrist or ordering provider. During this time, the every-15-mins checks continue, and every 1-2 hours food, drink, toileting, and other comfort measures are explicitly offered.

Unfortunately, just like with any hospital, people in psych facilities are generally having the worst time of their lives. It's not fun to be in a facility, especially one you aren't allowed to leave (if that's your situation), but the goal is to keep patients safe and alive until they can find a stable regimen of medication, community support, and counseling that the patient can continue at home or in a group home setting.

-Ross ( @macgyvermedical )

[rinkrats]

🥺 that mike lange story. But also those tags #sid loooves christmas #he loves giving presents #looks good in red #piles on the pounds fast #post hockey career as santa 😂😂👌🏽👌🏽

he loves his mementos and presents and is COMMITTED to them. scrapbooking. matching jackets. little pills with hidden motivational messages~*~ his love language is gifts and neck smooches and stalking geno. relevant right now are some anecdotes i sent a friend earlier this year for dorky sid gifts fic fodder:

1. Crosby's constant thoughtfulness would be impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature.

"Sid always texts me happy birthday, he's always asking me like, how's Russia?" Evgeni Malkin said. "We talk and message all summer. He asks me how my skates are. He knows, like, everything. He follows my Instagram, I think (laughs)."

In addition to having a handle on those little details, Crosby is constantly providing those around him with memories and mementos. If the team is on the road and goes, say, sightseeing or to a sporting event and takes a group photo, Crosby will later send a framed copy to everyone.

When Ron Hextall and Brian Burke watched their first Penguins game in person, Crosby is the one who approached head equipment manager Dana Heinze and asked for two used game pucks to give to the new GM and president of hockey ops. 

After the Penguins won in 2009, Crosby had jackets made for the three players on the team who had scored a Cup-clinching goal in Game 7: Talbot (Pittsburgh), Ruslan Fedotenko (Tampa Bay) and Mike Rupp (New Jersey).

"They were blue jackets with gold buttons, and each one had a patch on it that said 'GWG Game 7,'" Talbot said. "At one of our first team meals the next season, he presented us with the jackets and did a big ceremony with the music and stuff. We had a private room in the restaurant. I still have the jacket."

-The Consummate Teammate, Captain and Ambassador, Feb 2021

2. Merz: My first interaction with Sid was when we were on the bench, guys were talking about a teammate, and the first thing this 15-year-old says is, “Hey, guys. Let’s keep everything positive. Don’t talk about your teammates that way.”

Salcido: When we were getting ready for nationals, he found these little pills that you could put a hidden message inside. They unscrewed, and inside was a tiny scroll. He gave one to every teammate. … He had everyone fill one out. He didn’t tell anyone what to write, but he made it known that we all knew what the goal was: winning nationals. So we wrote on our scrolls, rolled them up and put them in the pill thing. We kept them with us everywhere we went.

-‘Is this real?’: Stories of Sidney Crosby’s year at a Minnesota prep school, May 2020

3. On “Butterfly Boy” Jonathan Pitre:

Though the Senators are his team, Sidney Crosby has always been Jonny’s favourite player. After the TSN documentary airs, Tina gets a call from the Penguins. Sid needs Jonny’s measurements. He wants to have a suit made for him by his personal tailor, Domenico Vacca.

“It’s the kindest, sweetest gesture,” Tina says. “Sid heard that Jonny went to a lot of games, so he wants him to look like he’s one of the guys.”

“I want him to feel like a pro,” Crosby says. “Here’s a guy who is going through something so painful, and his first thought is always, ‘How can I help others?’ When I was young, I’d watch on TV the players coming to the rink in their suits. That was a cool part of being an NHL player. I want him to feel that, to make it as real as possible for him.”

Tina tries to discreetly measure Jonny while she’s changing his dressings. But he’s way too smart for that.

“Um, Mom, why are you measuring me? Am I going for surgery again?” he asks.

“No, no!” Tina replies, trying to reassure him and come up with a good lie, all in the same breath. “The doctor needs them just to make sure they have proper dressings next time you are in.”

A few weeks later, the sharp navy blue suit shows up at their front door, along with a couple of ties, an autographed stick and a handwritten letter from Sid. 

“His eyes just light up,” Tina says. “Jonny always liked to be well-dressed, and he just loves having his own suit. It fits perfectly. He looks so good in it.”

-Beauties by James Duthie (2020)

4. Pascal Dupuis inspired his Pittsburgh Penguins teammates on their run to the Stanley Cup, and Sidney Crosby found a special way of driving that message home.

Dupuis retired in December with lingering health concerns because of blood clots. Despite his NHL playing days coming to an end, the veteran forward remained an integral part of the Penguins and was in uniform to hoist the Cup after Pittsburgh's six-game win against the San Jose Sharks in the Stanley Cup Final.

On Sunday, Dupuis brought the Cup home one last time as a player to share a special day with his family, friends and hometown fans.

"Yes, it does feel bittersweet a little bit," Dupuis said. "You get the Cup, you want to celebrate. But at the same time I got a gift by the mail [Saturday]. Basically, it's a book of all the pictures of all the good stuff we went through. It came from Nova Scotia, so you guys can figure out who it came from (Crosby), but he couldn't give it to me during the season, he saw me skating a little bit.

"And he sent it [Saturday], before my day with the Cup, so he knew what he was doing to get me right here," Dupuis said, putting his fist over his heart.

-Pascal Dupuis shares Stanley Cup with family, friends, Aug 2016

5. In 2011, Crosby was out of the lineup with a concussion, and the Penguins made their annual visit to Children’s Hospital.

Crosby got along so well with one boy there and was so touched that he later asked Bullano to go back... just the two of them, no cameras, no attention.

When Bullano and Crosby met for the follow-up visit, Crosby appeared clutching a pair of Toys “R” Us bags, filled with a Transformer toy the two had discussed.

“He literally bought every type of this toy they make,” Bullano said. “[Crosby] had never seen it before and thought it was so cool.

“There are no pictures of this. There’s no video. He was laying in the bed with the kid. They were just playing. We were there for over two hours. I got to know the mom really well because we were just sitting there.

“The kid had no idea. Didn’t expect it. They had no idea he was coming. We got there and he said, ‘Hey buddy. hope you don’t mind that I came back.’ The kid couldn’t believe it.

“[Crosby’s] crazy cool about stuff like that.”

What’s crazy is trying to recount the many times stuff like this has happened with Crosby:

• The Little Penguins Learn to Play program has been around for nine seasons, outfitting now 1,200 kids with free head-to-toe hockey equipment. Not only does Crosby serve as the face of the program — which the NHL has now adopted — but he helps fund it, too.

“There’s an awareness of what a person in his position can bring,” Penguins vice president of communications Tom McMillan said. “I think he activates that as much as anybody I’ve seen during his playing career.”

• After a recent practice, Crosby noticed a local family in the Penguins dressing room, approached them, introduced himself, learned their story and wound up giving them a signed stick.

Nobody asked Crosby to do that, and he wanted zero credit when discussing it a couple days later.

“For people who have the opportunity to come in here, people dealing with certain things, if you can brighten their day a bit or spend some time with them, it’s something that’s special for all of us,” Crosby said.

• A few years ago, through a team charity event, Crosby befriended a 4-year-old Amish boy with cancer. Crosby remarked to Bullano how much he loved talking to the boy because of how engaging the boy was and how he wasn’t consumed with technology. Crosby even tried to visit the boy but learned he had passed away.

• He learns the first and last names of the kids who attend his hockey school in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia.

“Two kids came from Japan its first year,” Bullano recalled. “He was so blown away by that. He couldn’t wait to meet them.”

• Earlier this season, the Penguins welcomed Grant Chupinka, 24-year-old cancer patient, into the dressing room. Crosby chatted up Grant and his parents, Steve and Kim.

He spent his usual time — about two or three times the requirement. Gave the tour. Then found out the Chupinkas didn’t have tickets for that night’s game and decided he would pay for them to go.

“I’m sure he could just give them an autographed puck or something, but he takes his time to go out and see them and talk to them and get to know them,” Brian Dumoulin said. “It speaks volumes for him and who he is as a person.”

Spend any length of time with Crosby during his visits with those less fortunate, and a few things become obvious.

One, Crosby is really good at these. Smooth but not in a slimy way. Sweet. You know how when you’re around someone talking and they go out of their way to make eye contact with everyone around? That’s Crosby.

He’s also humble, always introducing himself like those he’s meeting don’t already know. Holding a hand is no issue. And Crosby is the rare 20-something pro athlete without kids who acts every bit like he does.

“It is not an easy situation to talk to someone with terminal cancer,” McMillan said. “A lot of people couldn’t do that. He has an amazing ability to do that and make that person feel good.”

Crosby has welcomed several Make-a-Wish kids and tries, if at all possible, to schedule such events for practice days — to maximize the time he’s able to spend.

He’s developed a special friendship with Patrick McIlvain, a soldier who nearly died when he took a bullet to the head in Afghanistan. McIlvain actually does physical therapy with one of Crosby’s sticks.

A former club hockey player at Cal U, McIlvain comes by every year, and the Penguins don’t even bother to tell Crosby. Either he already knows or immediately stops what he’s doing to come say hello.

“He’s not doing it to leave a legacy,” said Terry Kalna, Penguins vice president of sales and broadcasting. “His numbers leave the legacy. He’s just a down-to-Earth, good guy.”

Before a visit, Crosby has Bullano email him what is essentially a scouting report on who he’s going to meet. He likes to learn about them, their situation and what they’ve been through. As much information as he can ingest. Crosby never just swoops in, shake a hand and leave.

“As much as anyone has ever seen, he accepts the responsibilities of being not just a professional athlete but a star professional athlete,” McMillan said. “He views it as part of the job. Like coming to the morning skate. That’s just what you do.”

Put another way, “he owns those moments,” says Kalna.

Said Bullano, “He’s just a good human being.”

-When it comes to giving, Sidney Crosby does as much as he can, Feb 2017

6. When Crosby received a generous signing bonus on his Reebok deal, he wanted to share it with everyone.

“He gave everyone on the bus gifts,”  says Oceanic radio commentator Michel Germain. “Him sharing his bonus with all the people he’d been travelling with for two years, that impresses me greatly. I think the most important thing about Sidney Crosby is his personality and the kind of human being he is. What he exuded. The inner richness he’d already developed.” 

-Superstitious and generous, Dec 2006

7. also this simply because it makes me ;w;

Even in defeat — no, especially in defeat — Sidney Crosby proved why he wears the "C" for the Penguins.

After the game, with his heart sinking and his season over, the Penguins’ captain bent over, sank to the ice to pick up the puck, took it to linesman Tony Sericolo and then skated to his team’s handshake line.

I immediately thought of a View from Ice Level I’d written on Crosby making sure a retiring official was sent away from PPG Paints Arena properly. I knew picking up the puck wasn’t for the same reason that was, but I also knew, in some way, it was connected to Crosby’s awareness and respect of the game.

“It was for the Islanders,” Crosby told me after the game, his eyes swollen from a first round exit – by way of a sweep to make it worse. He told me how the winning team always wanted the puck, and it was his way of providing it for the Islanders.

Crosby looked me right in the eye as he told me this, just as he did with every other member of the media to come to him after the loss.

I could tell from those swollen eyes and the way he sat at his stall, by himself with his hands folded as he stared blankly, that Sidney Crosby is much more used to being on the receiving end of a puck when a series ends than he is at retrieving it for the winning team.

That scene. His swollen eyes. Staying in the locker room until most had left – talking to anyone who needed him. Most of all, though, picking up the puck that prompted my question in the first place and making sure the right people got their piece of their own history.

It all adds up to one thing: In victory and in defeat, Crosby respects the game above all else – just as he’s always done.

-Even in defeat, Crosby shines, April 2019

[lilxberry]

I Watched You Die} 6 - Natasha Romanoff

Synopsis;

Someone from Natashas’ past makes the most of unsuspected arrivals and begins to cause issues, not only for her, just everyone they come into contact with. HYDRA uses them as a simple puppet and Natasha believes that maybe, just maybe, she could get them back to her in the way she remembers.

Warnings: Language. Fighting. Terrible writing (this chapter was terrible.)

Words: 3,123

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (female reader) (super soldier reader) (HYDRA reader)

(A/N: There’s some time jumps that aren’t stated but it’s still relatively easy to follow in that sense. Also, this chapter is more so a filler but nonetheless is related to the story.)

(A/N 2: Strucker and interactions with him are in German and a small interaction with Wanda is in Slovak as a substitute for Sokovian. There is some Russian in this but it’s quite easy to distinguish between the languages’ used.)

< Chapter 5    Chapter 7 >

_______________

Her head throbbed and her neck was stiff and pained from its lolled position it had been in hours on end. Even with her head tilted forward and down towards the hard floor beneath her, the light felt harsh against her eyes, a stinging, burning sensation appearing each time she cracks an eye open.

“Ah, I hope you slept well, Miss Romanoff.”

The familiarity in the voice caused Natasha to tense and she willed her eyes to open and remain as such. Raising her head, her eyes automatically lock on to the figure before her in which everyone believed was dead.

“How are you here?”

The man chuckled and began to take steps towards the tied up red head, his hands folded together behind his back, a smug look etched into his features. “It is quite incredible the technology we have within this day and age, yes?”

Her features twisted up into a sneer, glaring at the one of the few notorious HYDRA leaders they, the Avengers, had come to face. “Why can’t people just stay dead?”

Strucker rounded her body leaving her to look at the room they held her within; bland in colour but crowded with technology. “I believe you’re also not referring to only me now, are you?” He clicks his tongue. “Yes, Y/N. Our best asset yet. The twins were exceptional, yes and the winter soldier was successful until recent years, but Y/N is our best creation.”

His German accent is thick as the words pass into her ears and registers his words, but his next sentence as he leans down to whisper right beside her head makes her blood run cold. “Finding her on the brink of death was undoubtfully wonderful, on our part at least.”

The man chuckled as he straightened himself back out, standing to his full height before rounding her seated position once more to stand before her. “How are our previous assets, anyways? The updates Ghost gives are quite minimal in unnecessary data.”

Silence. Strucker tsked at her lack of response and spun on heel, taking one, two, three steps forward before coming to a standstill. “I suppose you’d like to know why we have you hear,” he called over his shoulder to her. When he was met with silence once more, he continued.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers have certainly been a right ganz schlimmer, a large spanner in our works. We run smoothly when you and your little friends keep out of our business. Perfectly running machinery. So, we’re simply removing the issue with our operation. You.” (Fucking pain.)

Slow and intimidating were his steps as he little by little made his way over towards a board of panels which, much like every other piece of technology was surrounded by people in off-white lab coats. His fingers danced over the multiple of buttons that littered the deck of the panel.

“You may not think so yourself but, we believe you are the strongest of your little band of heroes. No, not physically. Mentally? Yes. We also believe, if we break you, the rest of the team will surely follow in crumbling down.”

His eyes linger on one spot in particular on the panel, his finger hovering over it. “Now you’re also wondering why I’m electing to tell you all this. The answer is simple, really.” He pushes down on a button, resulting in the chair that Natasha is strapped to, to recline backwards, much like a chair in a barbers’, before laying her flat.

“You’re stuck here.”

Natashas’ head looks from left to right in a frantic manner as Strucker steps away from the lengthy panel of buttons and stalks towards her, his boots quietly squeaking against the cold, smooth floor of the room.

Above her is some form of machinery she could best describe as terrifying in appearance, harsh glinting metal and a mass of wires. Movement to both her left and right signify to her that people are beginning to close in on her and surround her. Panic rises in her body further as someone steps closer to her head holding what she believed was a mouth guard; something she’ll be biting down on.

She shakes her head in a desperate attempt to avoid the object but with no such luck. Someone had violently grasped her jaw in a bruising grip and forced the guard into her mouth. Strucker leans over her laying form and the evil grin on his face is purely sickening.

“Have you ever felt 450 volts of electricity surged through your body before? No? Oh, don’t worry. IT should be over before you know it.” He pulls back, making Natasha follow his with her eyes. Her protests are muffled by the guard in her mouth. “But, please, be mindful when it comes to the convulsions that follow. You wouldn’t like to break a bone, surely.”

Strucker walks towards yet another panel, this time with AMP and voltage gages along with other gages she couldn’t quite make out from her position. He places his hand atop a dial and nods his head once to one of the many people scuttling around the room. She feels something be attached to each temple and it reminds her strongly of the old school, brutal electroshock therapy that doctors used to dole out.

“Shall we move this along and see how long it takes until you break?”

Natasha spots your body stood stiff and squared near the door at the foot of the room, features lacking any show of emotion. Her eyes widened, and she desperately hoped that her eyes asked what she couldn’t.

‘Help me.’

Your being, unmoving and unchanged, is the last thing she sees before searing hot pain shots through her body. She bites down on the guard and releases and ear-piercing scream around it as her whole-body tenses and her back arches up, fists clenched tightly, and toes curled.

Her body falls limp for a short moment before the process repeats, over and over. Like an unending, destructive cycle.

_______________

The team had tirelessly put in every effort to find the missing ex-assassin. When Natasha had taken too long to return to the others, Clint did what was asked of him. He waited until the end of the following day when she had left before telling the others.

With no sightings and no communication from the Avenger, they were at a lost.

4 days had passed, coming close to 5, with no such luck in finding Natasha. Every member of the close-knit team had put in hours and hours on end into locating her; everything had been fruitless. The team had chewed out the archer for not mentioning anything sooner than he had but he had argued that he valued his word and believed Natsha would be fine, that she could look after herself.

They couldn’t argue with him on that.

“I’ve got nothing. We haven’t found shit and it’s been what? 4 days since anyone had last seen her?”

Their hopes in finding her were dwindling quickly, its rate in decrease sped up after the three-day mark. Stark groaned and leant back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly between his pointer finger and thumb.

“Honestly, I blame Fury for making us use phones that I can’t hack. We’d find her a lot fucking faster if I could just get into it.”

“Language,” Steve muttered before releasing a lengthy sigh. As he went to open his mouth to respond, Tony perked up, this time looking extremely more optimistic than previous.

“HOLY SHIT!” He spun his chair to face the computer on the desk and began to rapid begin typing. The others watched him with scepticism before slowly moving to crowd the billionaire.

“You wanna explain to the class, Stark?”

“You know how I never listen to Fury?” He heard a collective of hums in agreement before continuing. “Well, when I was encrypting the phones we all use, I may have purposefully left out my location cloaking software.”

“So, you’re saying you can ping her location and you failed to mention this?!” Wanda exclaimed.

“One, ouch. Don’t scream in my ear like a damn banshee, Matilda. Two, I forgot. It’s not like we actually use it.”

The team watched in anticipation as Tonys’ fingers continued to rapidly tap at the keyboard. Moments pass by with bated breaths before a small red dot appears on a map that pops up. They stare at the bright red dot in a prolonged silence before Steve straightens out with a hardened face.

“Let’s move.”

_______________

“I don’t understand. Why San Fransico?”

The statement from Sam was what each of them wanted to voice but none did. Each step through the city was following that damn pinged location. The day before it had been in Washington, the day before that was Oklahoma.

They could be tracking a ghost trail for all they knew, certainly with how quickly the location seemed to switch between states so quickly.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Update.”

“Location has remained the same. The Railway Museum is just one block away, sir.”

Tony rolls his shoulders before turning to look towards those who walk with him. He and Steve share a look, already knowing that this is more than likely a trap or mislead.

“Only a few of us will enter. Everyone else is going to surround the building, cover each possible exit. Buck, I want you with me, Sam and Wanda. Clint, you think you can take to a nearby building keep an eye on the roof and the main entrance?”

Clint nodded as Steve doled out orders for the group to follow. With the archers’ non-verbal confirmation, the captain continued.

“Thor, I want you to take the West side of the building with Banner. Pietro, you take East. Stark, I want you to take the back with Vision.” Everyone nods followed by them splitting off in the direction of the respective positions.

Dressed as civilians was helpful with entering the museum; they turned no heads when entering the building. The four inside had separated themselves, hoping to search the interior in record time rather than they be grouped up together.

The comms the team had donned before splitting ways crackled before Tony’s voice sounded through into each team members’ ear. “I’ve had F.R.I.D.A.Y. put the location on each of your phones, make it easier for you guys to know if you’re closing in.”

Simultaneously, Steve, Sam, Wanda and Bucky pull out their smartphones and allow the screen to open up correctly, a simple map of the interior showing a blinking red dot in the centre of the building.

The small team inside opposed to those outside slowly close in to the centre of the museum, covering all sides.

Adrenaline begins to heighten as they inch their way closer and closer. Emotions are running high and minds are swirling with possibilities and before they knew it, they surround the exhibit at the very middle of the building.

A large group being led by some guide moves on with their tour and reveals a lone person still stood there; hood up and phone in hand. Steve glances down at the phone in his own hand and sure enough, the dot hasn’t moved.

This is what they’ve been chasing.

With their head down, both Sam and Bucky who face their front can’t identify who holds the phone, Natashas’ phone.

Between the four, a look was shared and with a nod of their head in the figure’s direction, they begin to slowly close in once more. Wanda, Sam and Bucky slow to a stop, only a short distance away as Steve continues to stalk closer and with a few more steps, he’s stood behind the figure.

He reaches an arm out and clamps his hand down on their shoulder which begins to shake slightly as the person laughs quietly. The person slowly raises their head with a shit eating grin on their face and both Sam and Bucky tense, their jaws clenching, teeth grinding.

Wanda freezes up along with them as the figure slowly turns to face Steve; easily catching a glimpse herself.

“At ease, солдат,” your voice rasps. (Soldier.)

You hand moves quickly to clamp on to the blondes’ wrist and before he could react, you bring your head forward in a quick, whip-like motion, slamming it into his nose; a satisfying crunch is heard and blood already beginning to trickle out.

Twisting his arm, you land a hard kick to his ribs and send him back, him falling to the floor with quite the thud, even sliding across the floor a good foot or two. The others had quickly reacted, Sam and Bucky charging over towards you.

You alternate between the two as they dole out a choreographed offensive; punches, kicks, full body hits. The two had been going a solid minute and had done zero damage, even with Steve standing himself back up on to his feet and charging at you himself.

Wanda had dealt with the screaming and panicked public from the first sign of retaliation, giving firm orders to leave the building and to get a safe distance.

The second the first of the civilians exited the building in a rushed and yelling fashion, the team was on high alert.

“Someone talk to us,” Clint crackled through the comms, his sights down the length of the arrow he already has notched and ready to release.

“It’s Y/N.” Just that simple statement made the whole team know exactly what was currently going down. “They had Natashas’ phone. HYDRA put us on a wild goose chase.”

The grunts from Steve, Sam and Bucky brought Wanda’s head back into the fight at hand. The three were being easily overpowered by just yourself and she’s unsure how to proceed. With quick thinking, she uses her powers to push her teammates aside and away from you, the swirl of red like mist dancing around her fingers.

Your attention snaps from the three that had been thrown away from you to the little witch who stood off to the side. You roll your shoulders and smirk before stomping your way over to her aggressively.

You feel your movements slowly become restricted and it’s harder and harder to move forward. Wanda, with a struggle, brings to down to your knees before you could reach her and all you could do it look up at her with a devious smirk.

Tongue peeking out between your lips, you wet them and trail your eyes up and down the length of her body and the action makes her sick to your stomach. “Som ohromená, princezná.” (I’m impressed, princess.)

She takes step towards you, slow, precise, and what she hoped was menacing. “Where’s Natasha?” she spat between her teeth.

You chuckle darkly and shake her head, noticing how she lacked to remember to keep her distance. “You’re in no position to ask questions, little witch.” With perseverance, your left arm shoots forward, grasping her wrist much like you had done with the caps. Shocked, the moment forces Wanda to lose concertation and drops her magical hold on you.

You swipe at the opportunity and raise to your full height, towering over the Sokovian and delivering a hard right hook to the girl, knocking her unconscious the moment your fist made contact with her jaw.

Turning, you look at the trio of men who look at an unconscious Wanda by your feet with wide and worried eyes. You smirk once more as you pull Natasha’s phone from your pocket and wave it slightly before tossing it in their direction. “Keep it. I’m done with it.”

You take small steps backwards away from the four before turning tail and running, closer and closer to the back entrance.

“She’s heading to you guys at the back,” Steve rushes out, struggling to come to a stand and give chase.

“Understood, capsicle.” Tony and Vison both prepare themselves for your arrival, to burst through the doors and go into combat just like the four inside had done. But they waited and waited and waited. Nothing. “Uh, no sign of her. Anyone got eyes on the slippery bastard?” Stark reaches out to the others.

Sam and Bucky left Americas’ sweetheart and Scarlet Witch with the intentions of cheeking the inside of the building, running around the whole of the museum as the team converse.

“Nothing here.”

“Nope.”

“No clue.”

“Nada.”

“Zilch.”

The team’s response came in like clockwork and the entire team felt baffled. Where did you disappear to?

“So, she just evaporated? What the fuck? Are you sure no one has eyes on her?”

“Look,” Steve started. “As much as I want to find them and get some answers, we gotta focus on Wanda. She’s down.” He was kneeling beside her unconscious form and like a lightbulb being lit from a switch, Pietro was right beside his sister on the opposite side of Steve, absolute panic and concern shifting through his eyes.

Steve hears a sigh through the comms followed by Banners’ voice. “Let’s get back. It’s clear they’ve disappeared somehow, and we should focus on Maximoff right now.”

Steve shakes his head and moves to stand, Pietro already holding his twin in his arms. “Let’s go, team.”

_______________

“Wie ich sehe, können wir ihr Telefon nicht länger als Ablenkung für sie benutzen,” Strucker spoke as his back was turned to you, hands folded behind his back, looking at the painting hung on the wall with disinterest. (I see we can no longer use her phone as a distraction for them.)

“Sie werden sie nicht finden können, auch wenn wir sie nicht mehr auf Gänsejagd führen, Sir,” you respond, you own hands folded behind your back. Your eyes are trained on his form as he slowly turns to face you, casually rounded the desk to stand before you. (They won't be able to find her even if we no longer lead them on such wild goose chases', sir.)

“Hoffentlich nicht, Soldat. Es liegt an Ihnen, wenn sie sie finden.” His eyes look you up and down subtly, scrutinising you before turning away from you and striding over towards his desk. “Es ist jetzt zu heiß für dich, Ghost. Zu viele Leute werden dich nach deinem kleinen öffentlichen Stunt erkennen. Du sollst in der Einrichtung bleiben. Sie bewachen Romanoff und begleiten sie zum und vom Labor. Verstanden?” (They better not, soldier. It will be on your head if they are to find her.) (There's too much heat on you now, Ghost. Too many people will recognise you after your little public stunt. You are to stay within the facility. You will guard Romanoff and escort her to and from the lab. Understood?)

“Verstanden.” (Understood.)

_______________

.

.

.

.

.

THIS WAS SO BAD LMAO

I just needed a filler honestly so, this will do for the time being

If you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

Marvel taglist:

@thanossexual​ @iwazoomingouttahere​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ 

_______________

‘I Watched You Die’ taglist:

@diaryoflife @username23345 @drpepperobsessed @fayhar @d14n4ol @srtamercurio @gabbygabbie @lostandsearching @afuckingshituniverse @thea13sworld @nelouath8 @navs-bhat @pistachiomilk3 @peggycarter-steverogers @b-5by5 @trikruismybitch @anxiousgoldengirl @when-wolves-howl @whitelotus00 @anxiousgoldengirl @daniescady @unexpected-character @lgtftchan @mitch-cabello1097 @wlwfanfictionss @gottacamz​

(Those whose @ is in bold, I could not tag unfortunately.)

[conjurethecosmos]

Honey we need to talk - Steve Rodgers x little!reader

AN:///Hey this is my first fan fiction so please don’t be that hard on me lmao. also i just wanted to say that this isn’t a kink and I don’t write any kink related stuff. PSA age regression is a coping mechanism. If you like my work please like <3 also my asks are open so feel free to ask or suggest stories if you like :)

Word Count: 2k

(Y/N) POV

The surviving Avengers were finally coming back to the tower. Life had already changed just within the hours of the blip, but (Y/N) was alone and did not know about the blip. (Y/N) had been home at the tower safe, protected, from the terror that the avengers were fighting. She knew about Thanos and how he was trying to get all the stones, but the Avengers are the most powerful superheroes ever, they have to win, right? F.R.I.D.A.Y had been keeping watch of the currently sleeping (Y/N) making sure she was okay. The Avenger’s tower was known to be soundproof to keep the bustling sound of the city outside, which is why (Y/N) hadn’t been disturbed. The screams, screeches of cars, and general commotion of the people were not heard by the sleeping girl. F.R.I.D.A.Y did know what had happened when she lost contact with most of the avengers. She did not want to alarm (Y/N) since she had been extremely stressed out and with stress came her age regression. F.R.I.D.A.Y just did not want her to panic without anyone to physically console her since almost everyone she loved was gone. She would just wait till the remaining avengers arrived back to tell her what happened and so she could inevitably regress in the comfort of someone’s arms.

(Y/N) woke up with a yawn surrounded by scattered stuffed animals and ruffled bedsheets. The first thing that she wanted to do was to check her phone to see if Bucky, Steve, or Peter texted her to check up or send a picture of them together happy and coming home. Peter was a regressor like (Y/N) and they would always play together in the toy room conveniently located next to (Y/N)’s room. But, when she tapped on their phone it would not turn on. Even the dead battery screen that would pop up if she did forget to charge her phone the night before didn’t even pop up. So, she decided to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y what was wrong with the phone. “I am sorry (Y/N) I can not seem to turn on your phone, there doesn’t seem to be any issue with it” F.R.I.D.A.Y states. “What do you mean nothing wrong? It won’t even turn on. Ugh I guess I will have to go and get a new phone then.” (Y/N) says. That is when F.R.I.D.A.Y quickly responds “I am sorry to tell you this, but I have been advised to keep you inside for your safety.” She let out a huff and decide that she might as well get dressed. She doesn’t even know when everyone will be back, but the night before Steve called and said that they would all probably be back the following day. All she wanted to do is color and play with stuffies with Peter while Steve sat in the chair in the corner of the shared playroom reading a book.

Steve’s POV

Bucky disintegrated right before his eyes. His best friend, gone, all from a snap. Thanos had disappeared and left Steve, Natasha, Wanda, and Bruce enraged, however, what could they do. The flight back was solemn and quiet. No one dared to cry in front of each other despite the trauma accumulated today, save for Nat who sat quietly crying. Steve only looked forward to seeing his favorite person, (Y/N), which he cared for most of the time due to her tendency to regress when he is with her. He did not mind at all, in fact his caring personality just made him gravitate more towards being (Y/N)’s caregiver. His brain was going a mile a minute just thinking of how to tell (Y/N) that half the population was gone, including some people she loved so much. The avengers were informed by F.R.I.D.A.Y which avenger had sadly been blipped. That only caused the already somber mood to become worse. Steve just sat there staring at the many buttons on planes’ cockpit thinking about how (Y/N) would react to the news of Peter being gone. He was her only little friend, he was always there for her when she was having a hard day and needed to regress. They were best friends, just like Bucky and I. ‘I think I will just tell her as an adult and then take care of her if she needs to regress’ Steve thought. They then eventually started descending onto the landing pad on top of the tower.

(Y/N)’s POV

It was now about 8 pm. You kept youself occupied by cleaning since oddly enough the usual cleaner never showed up.You thought that it was weird, but assumed that the cleaner may have had the day off or something. The T.V. was also broken, like your phone it wouldn’t turn on. You could not watch the news or a movie, so you were pretty bored the whole day.  You were pulled out of your boring thoughts when you heard keys enter the lock on the front door. Steve entered first looking panicked as he looked around to see if you were there, alive. You smiled at him and gave him a big hug, which caused him to hug you tighter almost as if you would disappear right before him. Immediately, you knew it was a hard mission. I mean they were gone for weeks so it had to be hard. However, He had a look on his face that you had never seen before. “Honey we need to talk” Steve sighed. They both walked into your bedroom to talk in private. You sat down on your bed hugging your stuffed purple fluffy bunny that was won by Bucky at a fair one year. Steve got the chair by your desk and moved it to be in front of you and then sat. “So, I am sure you are wondering what happened today?” Steve asked. “Yeah kinda. I haven’t heard anything since my phone is broken and the T.V. was off” you huffed. “Sweetie there really isn’t a good way of putting this...” he hesitated for a second but then started talking again looking at you straight in the eyes, “So Thanos got all the stones and snapped his finger which caused half the population to disappear.” You then started hugging your bunny as he continued to explain which avengers were gone. Tears were already starting to spill as you shut your eyes tightly. When he mentioned that peter was gone that is when you let out a loud pained cry. Steve had to hug you, to comfort his princess. He was not sure if he should have told you that a ton of people were gone, but you needed to know. If he didn’t and you would have asked about Peter, it would probably cause him to burst into tears. You started to regress, he could tell because you started sobbing and rocking. He knew that he needed to comfort you better than just hugging you so he decided that distracting you might be better. “Princess, I know you are sad about what I told you, but I just want you to know I am here for you.” Steve calmly says. “Bu-But I wan Pete n buck” (Y/N) blubbered. “I know baby, you can cry as much as you want,” He says while placing your head on his chest. Tears stain his shirt. He was tempted to cry with you, but he knew he needed to save his tears for when he was alone. Now was the time for his princess to grieve. After you crying for about twenty-five minutes Steve grabbed your paci so you could sleep. He could tell you had regressed. He placed you on your bed to lay down with your favorite bunny stuffie in your arms. Steve decided to sleep in the chair for the night just to watch over you in case you woke in the middle of the night in need of some comfort. He sat there staring at your sleeping form silently sobbing just because of all the stress of the day. It just hit him like a wave, but he eventually fell asleep. You woke up at 2 am to use the bathroom. You looked around the nightlight lit room to find Steve passed out in a chair located in the corner of the room. You slowly walked over, stuffie in hand, to wake the superhero up. You could not go to the bathroom by yourself since she was scared Thanos would be outside her door. Not even the bravest stuffie you owned could calm your fears. You poked Steve’s thigh to wake him up. Steve looked around in a panic only to see your puffy face. “Hey doll, what does my little princess need?” he asks. “I need to go potty, but I scared to go alone...” You shyly stated. “That’s okay, come on baby.” He escorts you to the bathroom and back. “Um Stevie, could you pwease cuddle me to sleep. I scared to sleep myself?” You sheepishly ask. ”Of course my baby.”

The next morning

You had woken up small. You could only speak like a three-year-old. That was okay with Steve though because he loved caring for you. He carried you into the living room and went into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee and you a sippy cup with strawberry milk with a plate of mini pancakes. He turned on your favorite Disney movie while he cooked for you. Caring for you was a needed distraction. He needed to feel like he was making a difference and obviously, the events of the previous day made him feel like all his efforts of protecting America or the Earth were all for nothing. But, taking care of you was rewarding and therapeutic. “Stevie, thanks for the pancakes, dis milk is so good too!” (Y/N) exclaimed with a cute little smile. “Aw, you’re so welcome, sweetie.”

5 years later

Time had passed, (Y/N) regressed more often than ever. She was rarely ever her adult self. Thankfully Steve had set up a group talk therapy session with some survivors which (Y/N) joined every time they had a meeting. She would only talk about missing Peter while hugging a stuffie she would bring. The group members never judged her though since they all had their own coping mechanisms if they had any. She was usually really shy in front of the group since mentally she was three and really did not have that much to say in front of the strangers.

Eventually, Bruce hatched an idea to bring everyone back, which caused you to be alone again. You just stayed in the playroom alone playing with barbies or watching a movie. Steve would call you from time to time to check up on you, luckily F.R.I.D.A.Y was a great caretaker and gave you your basic needs. The Avengers were now successful in bringing everyone back. Sadly, Tony had passed away though. You attended his funeral with Steve at your side. You still hadn’t seen Peter yet but did not want to interrupt his grieving since Tony was his main caregiver and mentor. Tony was the only father figure he had and he was just gone. Steve decided it would be best to have you pick a stuffed animal at the store for Peter to keep during this hard time. You decided on a red bear with a gold ribbon on his neck. Steve had the red bear in his hands ready to gift to Peter, while you had a new Pink bear with a white bow around its neck that you named Poppy. Once the funeral was done Steve held your hand to walk up to Peter. He looked so small and in need of someone to care for him. Steve then spoke, “Peter, I am deeply sorry for your loss. I know how you feel and if you need (Y/N) or me, don’t hesitate. (Y/N) thought that she should get you this special bear for you to give you comfort.” He handed Peter the red bear and Peter just hugged it close. Steve knew that he was going to have to take care of Peter and (Y/N) from now on, but he was ready for it. He loved you both dearly. “I hope you like the bear Peter, I thought you would like him since he’s your favorite color. See I have a pink one like yours, we’re twins!” You said trying to distract Peter. Peter rarely ever spoke when he was little, and this wasn’t any different. He eventually accepted your gift with a tight hug as his tears fell on your shoulder. 

Time skip: a couple of months

Peter eventually moved into the tower and got a room next to yours. Steve now had two regressors to take care of now, but at least he had the aid of Bucky who would just baby sit. You were currently in your room putting on one of Steves old shirts with black leggings. His shirts made you feel even smaller since it was so baggy. Steve then quietly knocked on your door for permission to come in. “Yes?” you asked. Steve then opened the door and stepped in with his hand in Peters. Peter had a smile on his face for probably the first time in months. You smiled back and then turned to face Steve who obviously wanted to ask you something. “Are you little right now (Y/N) or are you big because Pete wants to play blocks with you?” Steve asks. You beam and excitedly say, “I wan play blocks! Pete can we make a town wif da blocks and cars and my dollys?” This just caused Peter to run and hug you. You two ran to the next room to play together. Storage containers were quickly opened and blocks were scattered to begin construction on the town. Steve watched you two play from the door with a smile on his face. 

I am sorry this story was everywhere 

[finnyboywolfhard]

Kiss It, Make It Better

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader 

summary: Y/N craves smoking with someone new, so who better than Steve Harrington. 

A/N: this is based solely on the ‘it’s only marijuana’ line in season three bc i am in love with stoner!Steve 

warnings: drugs <3, cursing, fluff 

word count: 2.4k 

Y/N and Dustin had the routine since Y/N got her license, that once a month they would have a sibling drive, in which they would drive around with the sole intent of getting caught up with one another. Given all the shit they had been through over the past few years, it naturally became their own special form of therapy. The Events of Starcourt on the Fourth of July and the days prior were once again weighing heavily on the two during their first drive since.

“What was it like being drugged?” Dustin asked, his curiosity weaving its way into his voice.

“Weird. It kinda felt like everything was the best thing ever, but it also came at the worst time. It was also weird that it was with Steve Harrington and Robin.”

“Is it like weed?”

“Is it like what?” Y/N knew the answer, it was no, but she had no idea why her little brother was deciding to ask her that in that exact moment.

“When you guys were drugged, I kept asking Steve if he did drugs, and he said that he only did marijuana. I wanted to know if they were comparable. So, is it like weed?”

“First off Dusty, you don’t ‘do’ marijuana, you smoke it. And secondly, I’m not answering that question, you can save that query for Steve.” Steve. Y/N had a lot of thoughts about him, it was interesting to hear about him from the rumors in high school in comparison to how she saw him act regularly. And ever since she started smoking to calm herself down, she has craved smoking with someone other than Robin, maybe Steve was worth a shot.

“Speaking of Steve, he said he might be over a lot over the next few nights while his parents are away, just so you know.”

“Oh? Is he coming tonight?”

“No, not tonight. He isn’t off work till 9 and mom doesn’t want him coming an hour before my dumbass bedtime— I still don’t get why she just NOW gave me a bedtime while you don’t even have a curfew.” Her brother started rambling, but all she could pay attention to was that he was going to be home alone tonight. Would it be that crazy of her to show up after all the trauma they had been through over the past 3 years?

“It’s because I’m legally an adult, so she’s treating me as such, and you’re just going into high school, she wants you to be safe. But okay, guess we’ll just have to see him soon.” The two drove around for a while longer before returning home. As the hours in between past, Y/N glanced towards her bookshelf, in which held a hidden stash of weed. She could always tell her mom she was just going to Robin’s, she would never try to prevent Y/N from seeing Robin.

She walked toward the bookshelf with soft footing, and with a gentle touch she plucked the hard covered book from the shelf. Inside lay two pre rolled joints she bought from her dealer and some bud Murray had snuck her after Hopper’s memorial. She snapped the book closed and tossed the book gently onto her bed. She put on a zip up hoodie and packed a fake sleepover bag. The books spine crackled gently as the cover was opened just enough for her to grab the pre-rolls out and into her pocket.

With backpack slung over her shoulders and her hands tucked securely in her pockets, Y/N strolled casually into the living room where her mother sat, as the minutes ticked quicker and quicker past 9:30–he was definitely home by now.

“Hey mom! Inhope you don’t mind but I’m gonna head over to Robin’s.”

“Oh! Did she call? I didn’t even hear the phone!”

“Oh no! She didn’t!” Y/N let in a gulp, she didn’t think this through. “She asked me a few days ago to come over tonight if I wanted to, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go until a little bit ago.”

“Ah, sounds like you, Do you wanna call her before you head over?” Claudia stood from her seat and began moving and motioning towards the phone.

“No!’ Y/N shrieked at her mother, who turned confusedly towards her. “Her mom goes to bed early and I told her that if I was gonna come it would be between 9 and 10, she assumes I’m coming, but I do really gotta get going.” Y/N glanced nervously at the clock, it was getting later and later and there comes a time where it’s a little uncomfortable to show up. Claudia glanced to the clock as well.

“Okay Y/N/N, you better get going.”

“Bye mom—“

“—Drive safe, be careful, I love you.”

“I love you too mom.” Y/N said as she practically ran to her car. She turned her car on and began the drive towards his house, not even thinking twice about where she was going until the car came to a park in his driveway.

“Shit!” Y/N yelled at herself. She yelled at herself for being weird and for showing up unannounced. She calmed herself down by saying, “who wouldn’t want someone showing up with free weed? Don’t overthink it.” She pulled in a complete, deep breath and walked hesitantly to the door. Three knocks sounded off the door, her breath fluttering ever so slightly as she let her hand fall to her side. Footsteps could be heard from the opposite side of the door, stepping closer and closer by the second. The doorknob turned and Y/N’s attention snapped up to meet the gaze of the boy at large.

“Hey Y/N, what’re you doing here?” Steve asked delightfully surprised. Her hand reached inside her pocket to pull one of the two joints. She lifted it from her pockets to where he could see it.

“Got a light?��� She asked with a smirk.

After finding a lighter, the two made their way to his backyard. They sat parallel to one another in their chaise chairs. Y/N flicked the lighter a few times before sparking up the first joint of the night. She pulled a large huff in and held it as she passed the joint to Steve. He took in a long drag, holding the joint in front of him to inspect it after he hit it. A few seconds after Y/N had released her hit, Steve started coughing a bunch.

“Jesus Y/N, where the hell did you get this?” Steve said through the gasps for air.

“Good shit, huh?” Y/N joked as she inhaled another hit. The two fell into a rhythm of passing it back and forth as conversation allowed itself to flood the air.

“So what made you come here Y/N?” Steve pondered towards the girl.

“Dusty started asking me about when we were drugged, and apparently you told him you smoked weed. And, as much as I love Robin, I need someone new to smoke with, and you’re not AWFUL to hang out with.” Y/N explained, with sarcasm dripping from the last sentence.

“Wow, I feel so touched. Truly, I feel like the luckiest man alive. THE Y/N Henderson chose ME to smoke with. Best day of my life.” Steve rambled on, matching the sarcastic tone Y/N started with. The two laughed for a bit together, before Y/N spoke through the giggles.

“I am sorry for just showing up, I just didn’t know how to ask.”

“What? Am I that scary?”

“You’re THE King Steve, you’re the coolest, hottest guy at Hawkins. I was so intimidated by your male wiles. I am begging at your feet Steve Harrington.” Y/N mocked other girls she had witnessed in Hawkins. “No you’re not scary, I just couldn’t bring myself to say ‘Hey Steve, want to do some drugs with me?’ on our family phone, it didn’t feel right.” Steve let out a chuckle and a ‘fair enough’. It fell silent for a moment as the joint had its final hits taken from it.

“Why haven’t we hung out before? I mean away from all the traumatizing shit.” Steve asked slowly as he let himself sink down into the chair.

“Different friend groups before it all and then after and during it all, I didn’t and don’t want to impede on you and Dustin’s time. Plus neither of us have asked each other anyway.”

“That’s not true, I invited you to the movies that one day you stopped into scoops alone.”

“Yeah after I had already told you I was babysitting that night, you didn’t even ask to reschedule.”

“Yes I absolutely—didn’t. I didn’t.” Steve said, confidence dissipating. Y/N couldn’t help but focus to each small feature of his face one by one. Sure, she had looked at him but she never looked at him. He really was beautiful.

Jokes and stories were told between the two, laughter and exaggerated stories filled the bubble they put themselves in. In those moments, there was no one else in the world but Steve and Y/N.

“And that’s how Mike Wheeler broke his finger in our backyard.” Y/N let out through a fit of giggles. Steve clutched his stomach as he let himself fall back into the chair from the gut busting laughter Y/N had sent him into. As he got more comfortable, he glanced down at his watch. His eyes bulged at the time.

“Holy shit.” He said flustered, eyes never leaving the watch face.

“What? What time is it?”

“It’s almost 2 A.M.”

“Oh damn…” Y/N said, a dangerously fun smile finding its way to her face. Her hand reached towards the second joint in her pocket. “So this would be of no interest to you?” Steve’s squinted eyes opened just a peep. He let out a long whine.

“I think I’m too high to even move…but that looks so good.” Y/N looked between him and the joint. She noticed space for her to sit on the edge of his chair, and placed herself there. She placed the joint between her lips and gave it a light, waiting for the rolling paper burn down to the weed. From between her lips, she pulled the joint between her fingers and held it gently up to his. He took in a pull, never once releasing eye contact. With each consecutive hit, the distance between them drew closer and closer, eventually leaving their faces merely inches apart. Her fingers were so far back on the joint, they grazed his lips as he took in one of the final hits. Her fingers tingled from his touch. She glanced towards his eyes, his meeting hers already. The air around them went still and quiet. Their eyes were locked on each other, contact never wavering as their bodies moved towards one another like a magnet. His eyes stayed put on hers as his voice fell in the air.

“Give me one more.” Her hand lifted lightly and placed itself at his lips once more. The joint glowed a bright red as he inhaled the smoke. Y/N was so enraptured by his beauty, she didn’t notice the joint burning down to a nub. She watched as a cloud of smoke was blown from his lips and into the sky, before the heat had finally reached her touch.

“Son of a bitch!” She exclaimed as she dropped the roach to the ground. She lifted her fingers to her mouth, attempting to ease the burning feeling. The burn wasn’t bad, just a little redness but it didn’t hurt any less.

“Hey, let me see it.” Steve’s tone was much gentler now as he lifted her hand into his own. He raised her gently by her wrist to examine the burnt fingers. He delicately placed the burnt fingers to his lips and gave them a tiny little kiss.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He whispered, just barely audible to her ears. That’s what was so shocking about Steve, his heart was so filled with love and care. He did his best to make everyone feel protected, even if his popular guy persona overshadowed it at times.

“How are you so perfect?” Her voice came out quietly. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her once more and without much thought, he closed the distance. The kiss was gentle and loving, but clearly stoked by passion. His lips upturned into a smile. She leaned back and traced her fingers across her lips. Just to make sure she didn’t imagine it, she pulled the boy towards her by the collar and planted one more kiss on him—and she noted that he kissed back with the same fervor.

“I have a crush on you Steve Harrington.” She said, hiding her blushing face from the boy. He turned her face towards him as he confessed,

“I’ve had a crush on you for like 3 months.”

“You have?”

“Yeah.” He said, his thumb gently grazing her cheek.

“Why?”

“Dustin talks about you enough, and I—uh I remembered all the times you’ve kicked ass over the past few years and it just kinda…happened. Who wouldn’t want someone as smart, badass, and beautiful as you?” He rambled our haphazardly, a blush forming across his cheeks as well.

“Steve…”

“Oh god, that was embarrassing, am I blushing? I feel like I’m blushing. fuck me.” Steve started rambling.

“Hey! It’s not embarrassing, it’s cute.” Y/N explained, but it didn’t seem to help. An idea flashed in her mind. “Oh no! You are so embarrassing, I am embarrassed. Ew, guess I

I’ll just have to close my eyes! I hope that embarrassing Steve Harrington doesn’t kiss me!” The sarcastic tone from earlier returning once more. A chuckle bubbled past Steve’s lips. He once more laid one on her, this time—a little bit more passionate than the past.

Y/N nuzzled herself into Steve’s side on the small beach chair they were on. The air sat comfortably still in that moment, the two reeling from the overwhelming emotions they had just felt. Quiet giggles pierce the air as Y/N studies her fingers.

“It worked.” She said matter of factly.

“What worked?”

“After you kissed it, I haven’t thought about it since. You made it better.” Y/N spoke melodically. Steve planted a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her closer in to him.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He repeated once more.

[lilacmeadows]

Made For You pt.1

Okay so this is gonna be a series. My FIRST series. So go easy on me pretty please. I’ve never written smut, and I know nobody wants badly written smut. So we’ll see about that. But this one is definitely gonna be more of a slow burn. Maybe 4 chapters? Yeah. I like that. 4 chapters. I’ve just been thinking about this idea for a while and I wanna get into writing. I hope someone likes this.

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3 (coming soon)

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT: 2k 

PART ONE

She’s so used to quiet in her quaint bedroom. The faint whirring of the air conditioner, sounds of footsteps and machinery being rolled outside her door, the music they would play for her when she was extra good that week.

So when she was awoken to gunshots and yelling, y/n was anxious and didn’t know what to do. She backed into the corner of the room furthest from the door and shut her eyes. Hopefully, if she stayed quiet and unseen, things would resolve itself, and she wouldn’t see any violence come her way.

Luckily for her, after what felt like hours later, the sounds quieted down. The gunshots were less frequent and finally came to a stop. She waited for a few moments before sitting on her bed with intentions of continuing her knitting. She wasn’t allowed many activities, but this was one luxury the Men didn’t mind since she hadn’t had any violent outbursts in a long time. She hated being shocked, and she liked knitting.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Minutes later, she could hear footsteps approaching her room. Too late to go back into her corner without being heard through the ‘doggie door’ the Men used to pass her food twice a day, she sat still and slowed her breathing.

‘Anything on that floor?’ She heard one male voice say from further away.

‘Not yet. Mostly supply closets on this floor, but I’ll check them all.’ Said a voice from much closer. He couldn’t have been more than 10 feet away from her door. She could tell they were American like her because they didn’t have the funny accents the Men all had. Gripping her plastic knitting needles tightly in one hand she braced herself for the intrusion.

Her door cracked open a little, then quickly opened all the way.

“Cap, you need to see this.” The man called over his shoulder. “Are you alright ma’am?”

“Yes. I’m fine, sir.” Her small voice replied, a little rough from lack of use, but still remarkably sweet.

“Who are you? Do you know where you are?” He approached her slowly, taking in her meager appearance, but also watching out for the pointy sticks she has a death grip on.

“My name is y/n. I’m in my room.” She replied. Starting to feel very uneasy by this stranger, but also not thinking that he would hurt him. She had been here for so long, it was strange seeing a tall, black man enter her bedroom. Only trainers and watchers were allowed to enter her bedroom.

“What is it?” Another, taller man asked, but his question was soon answered when his eyes landed on the girl sitting on her bed with her tucked gently under her. He immediately noticed her lack of decent clothing, and it caused a blush to creep up his neck.

“We have a girl here, possibly a hostage, maybe an experiment. She doesn’t look like she particularly wants to be rescued.” The first man said to the other, who’s slowly entering the room while trying not to stare at her thin, flimsy, cotton dress.

“Hi, I’m Steve, this is Sam. Do you know where you’re from?” The blonde man said to her while crouching down to be at her eye level. She nodded her head yes. “Well we’re the good guys. We’re here to save you. Do you want to come with us so we can take you home?”

She had to contemplate for a minute. It had been so long since she got here that she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to leave. These men looked sincere, but she knew if she left and was caught, she’d be punished terribly. But if the gunshots meant anything, there would be nobody to punish her. Which means she can’t stay regardless because there would be nobody to take care of her either.

“Did you kill my watchers?” She looked at the blond man after a few quiet seconds. Steve and Sam made eye contact and had a whole argument in silence before Sam spoke up.

‘Yes, we did. But they were bad men. They were keeping you here. But you’re free now. You just gotta follow us, and we’ll get you out of here.’ Sam said, gently. Not wanting her to think they’re cold blooded murderers, but also trying to rush this meeting along so they can board the quinjet, where the rest of the team was waiting.

Steve held one of his hands out to her, which she hesitantly took- knitting needles and purple ball of yarn in her other hand. She thought about grabbing her sweaters, but they weren’t kept in her room. Quite frankly, she had no idea where they were. The Men didn’t allow her to keep the things she learned to knit in her room. But they would give her back a sweater during the cold months. So she just followed the two men awkwardly. Them taking large, hard steps towards parts of the building she had never seen, and her dainty footsteps lagging behind. The trainers taught her to walk with a ladylike gait, on the balls of her feet with barely any pressure to her heels.

After many hallways and stairwells, they found themselves outside the building. The quinjet was parked close by, and y/n’s eyes almost jumped out of her head. Of course she had never seen anything like that before. The men led her onto the loading area which closed behind them.

“Take a break for sightseeing?” Said one man from the front of the jet. They couldn’t see her because of her small stature behind the two men.

“Actually, we found someone. Her name is y/n. She was in one of the rooms, top floor.” Steve said to the man, while fishing you out from behind his back.

She was met with eyes. Many pairs of eyes. All looking directly at her. Not used to all the attention, she looked down at her feet, which were bare as usual and slightly irritated from walking on various terrains. Her toes painted baby pink. Another luxury the Men allowed her. Some watchers were nicer than others. The shorter, fat one that came every other night would bring her a light, barely noticeable, polish that she was only allowed to put on her toes.

Being there wasn’t so terrible. She was 10 when they took her in 2006. She had a mom and older brother, and they lived in a town in Georgia. She often wonders what happened to them that morning when the Men put a rag over her face, and she woke up on a bed in the room that would become her new bedroom.

She didn’t leave the room often. There was a small bathroom across the hall from her room. The watcher would be standing guard outside her door, and she would let him know she would like to use the bathroom or bathe. He would have to stand in the room with her while she bathed, but after a while, they were kind enough to face the wall. She fought for a long time. Refusing to eat the food (which wasn’t terrible), screaming and crying, she even plotted the occasional failed attack. But then they started the shock therapy, and she learned. Being in that chair was brutal. Rewiring her brain into submission. Submission to the Men so they could train her. She had to be ready for the Soldat when he needed her. Why her? She didn’t ask and they didn’t tell her. She learned very quickly that she was only allowed to speak when spoken to.

Make the Soldat happy. That was her mission. She had been told that phrase so many times that she heard it in her sleep. She had never seen or met him, but she was being trained to be his. A possession he could have control over during the brief times he was unfrozen. She was to listen to him, obey, sleep with him, and just make him happy because the mind controlling words were having less and less of an effect, and the Men were afraid he would lash out and massacre them all.

But it doesn’t seem like she’ll be fulfilling her life goal after all because now she’s in the air with a group of people looking at her like she has two heads. A woman with pretty red hair, a man with a large bow, and a man with nice glasses towards the front of the jet, were on one side. On the other was a blond man with very long hair, standing up to talk to a man in a purple shirt, and a man sitting by himself with long brown hair. All of their stares were pointed at her, but his seemed to go through her. Like he had x-ray vision and could read her mind.

“Y/n, you can have a seat right there.” Sam said, pointing to an empty seat next to the redhead who only squinted at her. “That’s Natasha. She’s nicer than she looks.”

“No, I’m not.” She said, making eye contact with y/n. “But we’re glad to have you aboard.” Natasha finished, the slightest smile forming at the girl.

“Um... Cap, where are her clothes?” The man from before asked Steve.

“I don’t know. This is what she was wearing, and I didn’t see a wardrobe anywhere, Tony.” Steve sighed, obviously exasperated by even the thought of a conversation with Tony.

Tony looked at the girl expectantly. Was he waiting for her to chime in? Because he’d be waiting a long time. She was trained very well. Talking out of turn was one of the first rules she learned.

“Sweetheart, are you alright? Do you want something to cover up? We have blankets. What about water? You thirsty? Does she even understand a word I’m saying?” Tony’s last question was aimed at the men she entered with.

“I understand. I’m sorry. I’m alright, sir.” And if the team was trying to keep their staring inconspicuous at first, they completely abandoned that when she spoke. Her voice was so small and smooth. Just a little weak from not talking much.

“How about we get you a blanket anyway so I can be a little more comfortable” He nodded towards Sam who left the room and returned with a large blanket. She hadn’t realized how cold she was or that her nipples were pointing through her thin dress. Or that the cotton dress was really just a white slip that was damn near see through.

Maybe the grumpy looking man on the other side of the jet does have x-ray vision.

“Thank you, sir.” Everyone had to be called Sir. She hadn’t been around any women, but she was pretty sure if they looked as serious as the one next to her, she’d call them Ma’am.

“Tony is fine.” He smiled at her.

“Hey. I’m Clint, by the way.” The man on Natasha’s other side said, turning his body to address her. “So, umm... What were you doing up there? Are you working for Hydra?” Other members of the team groaned and scolded him for being so blunt, even though they were secretly happy he asked because they also wanted to know.

“I was knitting.” She said simply. She was going to leave it at that, but she could see the way Clint’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline at her short reply. So she continued with the mantra she was raised with. “My purpose is to make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.”

She had never seen a room of people’s heads turn so fast. Eyes darting from her to the brooding man on the other side of the jet. He squinted his eyes, looking equally as confused.

She hadn’t realized that her mission was right in front of her.

part 2

[bi-bard]

I Stumbled in at the Wrong Time (Pt.4) - David Budd Imagine (Bodyguard)

Title: I Stumbled in at the Wrong Time (Pt. 4)

Pairing: David Budd X Reader

Other Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 1,613 words

Warning(s): mentions of bombs, death, and violence

Summary: After losing Julia, (Y/n) was heartbroken at David's sudden silence. However, (Y/n) was more heartbroken at how the two of them reconnected.

Author's Note: This is the second to last part. The last part is going to be an epilogue more than anything.

-----------------------------------

I didn't see David after the day at the hospital. He was busy, I knew that. I also knew that he wasn't really my bodyguard, he was Julia's.

I still wish he was there.

He was obviously in pain. I was still in pain and all I wanted was to have someone there that could understand my pain.

I didn't leave my room in the safe house. They still wouldn't let me go home so I laid in a bed that wasn't mine and tried to grieve.

One day, I finally woke up with enough energy to get out of bed and get ready. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.

At first, I noticed the results of my crying. Tired eyes, messy hair, distinct parts of my skin that look like I had cried. It was awful.

Then, I could only see Julia. I could see every similarity I had to her. It was like whatever force was in power was taunting me. Reminding me that I had to cope with Julia being stolen from me.

"You did so much more than I could," I mumbled quietly, like a prayer to her. I leaned down, rinsing my face with water.

I was finishing up my process of showering, getting dressed, and my other things when there was an emergency broadcast on the news.

I watched for a moment before my breath stopped.

David. In the middle of a park. A bomb strapped to his chest. He looked panicked. He was yelling something but it didn't seem like anyone was even attempting to listen to him.

I jumped when the door opened. A bodyguard was standing there.

"We need to evacuate," he explained quickly.

I followed him until we got outside. I asked where we were going. Once I found out what direction he was going, I ran the opposite way. I wasn't sure why I thought that this was a good idea. I wasn't going to be of much help but I felt a need to be there.

I found the group there. The police and... the woman that I was assuming was David's ex-wife. I walked over, ignoring the officers trying to keep me away.

"You're Julia Montegomery's sibling," one of the officers said as I kind of shoved my way into the group. "You need to go."

"No," I replied simply.

"We have reason to believe that this man is behind your sister's death," she explained.

"Good thing I know better."

Blind faith was not something that I was used to but David and I had been through a shit ton together. In a matter of maybe weeks, I felt like we were connected on a different level than most.

I'm pretty sure they called it trauma bonding.

"David," I called.

"(Y/n)," he called back, confused. I nodded. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I shrugged. I didn't know. I needed to be though, I just knew it.

I turned to look at his ex. She seemed confused to see me.

"You're the one he was on the phone with," she mumbled. I thought she was going to be angry with me. I nodded. "You really helped him that night... I'm sorry about your sister."

I nodded again, not sure how to respond.

The rest of the experience was a blur.

David led the entire bomb squad out of the park, down the road, and to an alleyway that I didn't recognize. He knelt on the ground, holding his arms out. He was talking about something, something to do with my sister's death but I didn't understand a word of it.

The people were talking about how best to defuse the bomb, the danger of someone being there to do it, or the risk of David doing it on his own when he didn't know.

I was too worried to care about my own safety. I grabbed their camera and the kit, walking it over to where David was.

"(Y/n), get out of here," David snapped quietly.

"Shut up," I mumbled. I turned to the police. "Tell me how I need to move this thing!"

"This is so stupid," David said.

"I'm not defusing it," I replied. "I'm just trying to speed up the process before they let you die."

"I didn't choose to do this... I didn't- I didn't kill Julia."

"I know," I looked him in the eye as I laid out the kit they had. I moved the camera however they told me.

When I moved back, I stayed next to the camera. I didn't want to leave David during this time. I couldn't. I physically couldn't pick my legs up to walk away from him.

"How many times are we going to be connected by an explosive," I asked.

David had just taped the weight down on the dead man's switch. He looked at me for a moment as he stretched his cramping hand.

"I hope this is the last time," he replied. I grinned a little. "Coffee would be better."

"Are you making a joke right now?"

"Coping, sorry," David muttered before looking to the group of people for the next explanation.

He was just finishing up the process when he looked at me again. I picked my head up a little bit, letting him know that I was here to help.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. I furrowed my eyebrows.

He finished the process, took off the vest, and then ran. He jumped over the half-wall on the other side of him.

"David, no," I yelled, going to look over the wall's edge.

A cop grabbed me, leading me away from the scene before I could even look for him.

After that, I didn't hear anything. I watched the news as much as I could but no one had any new information. The cops wouldn't tell me anything, despite keeping me in their main office for an extended period of time.

I was finally led to the safe house hours later.

They wanted to move me because David was still considered dangerous. I held onto my blind faith, refusing to go anywhere.

"I have guards and he can't scale a building," I explained. "I'm fine here. I'm safe."

I shut the door in everyone's face. I was not going to spend my life jumping from safe house to safe house. I wanted to go home but I didn't get everything I wanted.

It was the next day maybe when I heard about the arrests and the developments in the case.

"Sir," I asked the bodyguard outside my door as he hung up his phone.

"Mr. Budd has been proven innocent," he confirmed. I smiled widely. It was the happiest I had felt in weeks.

"I wanna meet with him," I said quickly, going back into my room to get dressed and cleaned up.

I was sitting at the counter of a small cafe, my obnoxiously sweet coffee sitting in front of me. I would drink it but it was too hot and I was honestly too nervous.

I looked at the door as David walked in and started walking over to me.

I stood up, taking in his appearance. Tired eyes, bruises and cuts on his face, and hair that was an absolute disaster. He seemed overwhelmed seeing me.

I grinned, tears in my eyes.

"Thank you for trusting-"

I hugged him tightly. He stopped talking, clearly not expecting the hug. I was usually good with boundaries... well I thought I was. I felt David slowly hug me back.

"Thank you for trusting me," he mumbled into my ear.

"It was really easy," I said quietly, chuckling through the tears building up in my eyes. I slowly stepped back, "Sorry."

"It's okay," he nodded.

We sat down at the counter after David had gotten a drink. We were talking about everything. What happened on the train, what happened to Julia, the fact that he was just almost named a terrorist. All of it.

"It's strange to think about," I said. "We are only in each others' lives because of tragedy."

"We can help each other," David suggested. "Heal together."

"'Together,'" I asked.

The idea seemed sweet at first glance but it didn't sit right in my stomach. Something told me that doing this wasn't going to be a good idea. Linking our progress wasn't going to be good for either one of us.

"David-"

I was caught off guard by David leaning over and kissing me. It was soft, nervous. I almost got lost in the moment before I realized what I wanted to say. I put a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly.

"David," I said softly as I pulled away. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. "I'm sorry."

I leaned back completely.

"I... I don't think this is healthy," I explained. "I want to be with you, I do... more than anything. But neither one of us is okay. Not right now. I think going forward now would be good for us."

David slowly started nodding, leaning back, away from my hand.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, no, I understand," he replied.

There was a moment of silence.

"Maybe one day," he asked quietly.

"Maybe," I replied, grinning at him.

Soon after, we went our separate ways. I tried to hide any of my tears as I was led back to the safe house. I instantly started packing my bags. I was going home as soon as possible to pursue normal life... with the addition of much-needed therapy and professional help.

I had stumbled into David's life at exactly the wrong time... and nothing broke my heart more.

-----------------------------------

Masterlist

What I Write For

Request Guidelines

Musical Prompts

Small Moments With…

When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who Crossover Series) Masterlist

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

A feeling.

This was requested by the lovely @ben-c-group-therapy who asked for this:

< Hi! So I’d like to request a story between Nick and reader. Reader is Nick’s pregnant wife who gets kidnapped and held most likely due to a case Nick had been involved with putting the person away for etc. (of course that’s up to you lol.) She and baby would be fine just she would have some bruises or something from where they tied her or whatever. Idk. I don’t have enough courage to write it and I wanted to come to you with it. If you like the idea I’d love to read it! Thanks!>

Hope this hits the spot for you lovely and it’s what you were looking for. A I bet you could absolutely write something like this and it would be amazing. 

Warning: angst, a lot of angst, talks of SVU cases, talks of kidnapping,  happy ending and soft soft Nick. The pinch of Spanish that’s in there, sorry if its wrong I used google.

WC: 1770

Enjoy x

Nick had been day dreaming since he got back to his desk after court that morning, he hadn’t been this happy in a long time and he was finally starting to feel more relaxed now your maturity leave had started, you had only been married for 6 months before the two pink lines showed up and you were both looking forward to adding to your existing family. He knew you had an appointment with your OBGYN that lunch time that he couldn’t go to because he was in court.

But as he sat at his desk, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that was filling him. His phone started to buzz in his pocket and when he pulled it out, he frowned his brows at the doctors office number flashing on it, confused at why they were calling, you weren’t due for another 2 weeks,

“Hello, Nick Amaro”

“Mr Amaro, its Jill, Y/N didn't show up for her appointment today, I have tried to call her cell but she didn’t answer. Have you heard from her?”

All colour drained from his face and he froze just as Liv walked out of her office and Sonny jumped up from his chair walking to Nick and taking the phone off him to find out what was going on. Sonny hung up after talking to Jill and turned to Liv, Amanda and Fin filling them in. Nick was looking ahead, fear filling him and everyone tried not to show how worried they were as well, it wasn’t like you not to show for an appointment and even if you didn’t Nick always knew why you weren’t going. Sonny grabbed Nick’s shoulder and shook him to snap him out of his head,

“Come on man, I’ am sure she is having a nap, we all know how tired she is. She only has 2 weeks left. We’ll go and check on her, ok?”

Sonny drove as fast as he could to your apartment building, they rode the lift up to your floor while Amanda and Fin worked with TARU to track your phone as you still weren’t answering and Liv made some calls around to local hospitals and your family to see if you were at any or if they had seen you.

Nick and Sonny rushed out the lift door down the hall to the front door. At first it looked like it was shut but when Nick tried to put his key into the lock, the door opened up. He raised an eye brow at Sonny trying to hold back tears and they both reached for their weapons, drawing them and started to walk into the apartment. Nick had to remember to breath at the state of it and tried to push away the horrible feeling that washed over him as his eyes scanned around your shared home. Sonny’s eyes blew wide at the mess around, the whole place was trashed and there was a smashed coffee cup with coffee pooling around it on the floor.

They both searched the apartment finding you nowhere, Nick yelling your name at the top of his lungs, but he panicked even more when he walked into the bedroom and found photos spread out on the bed of Nick with a recent victim, who had to go into hiding after testifying against her FBI husband,

“Carisi” Nick shouted trying to hide the fear in his voice. Sonny came rushing through the door and his eyes set on the photos, and he too had to try and hide the panic that bolted through him,

“I’ll call Liv” Sonny pulled his phone out of his pocket and made the call to her.

The next few hours where a blur and Nick found it hard to focus worrying if you and the baby were ok. TURU and the FBI agents sergeant finally found the location on where you were and they were getting ready to move in, Nick given strict instructions to wait at the car. Liv, Sonny and FBI were busting into the front of the old factory and Amanda, Fin and SWAT were getting ready to move in from the back.

Nick had seen first hand what this guy was capable of, you had as well, it was the last case you worked on before your maternity leave started and you knew how much Nick was there for the wife and helped her get out with her kids. He kicked himself for not knowing this was coming, and now you had been gone for hours, heavily pregnant and although he was trying to prepare himself for what he could be walking into, he also knew you were strong and he was hoping for nothing but the best for the whole situation.

They all moved in as quickly, but quietly as possible. As they walked into the big room, Liv and Sonny saw you in the middle of the room tied to a chair still in your pj’s, rope around your wrists to the chair arms and duct tape on your mouth. Sonny could see your tears in the shine of the sun from the windows behind you and the FBI agent was screaming in your face and holding something up to you throat,

“Stop, police” Amanda’s voice filled the room.

Shots where fired and you squeezed your eye’s shut, sobbing hearing the shots being rung out of the room and fading away into the background. As soon as Nick heard the shots, he did what he was told not to do and he ran as fast as his legs could carry him into the factory. It didn’t take long for him to find you sitting in the middle of room shaking and crying,

“Y/N, mi amor” his voice echoed through the room.

Your eyes sprung open and you sobbed uncontrollably watching as Nick ran towards you dropping to his knees in front of the chair undoing the rope on your wrists as quickly as he could. As Nick undid one rope he saw the deep marks around your wrist from how tight the rope was around you. He then moved onto the other one and when he pulled off the rope, you were bleeding slightly. Rage filled him even more when he looked up your arm just under your sleeve and saw a bruise from where you had been grabbed too hard,   

“It’s ok Y/N, I’ am here now, you're safe. You’re ok. Baby, you’re ok”  Nick repeated over and over till he reached up pulling the tape off your mouth.

You launched onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck hugging him tight and he did the same wrapping one arm around your middle tight and his other rested on your large belly, tears spilling from his eyes when he felt the baby kick his hand,

“Nick” you sobbed squeezing your arms around him tighter.

Nick kissed all over the side of your face, the hand around you rubbing over your back and his other rubbing over your belly,

“It’s ok, I’ am here my love. I got you”

Without pulling out of your embrace, Nick moved to stand up, pulling you up with him and he scooped you up carrying you out to EMT’s. Nick spent the rest of the day with you at the hospital while you and the baby were checked to make sure you were both fine and getting your wrists patched up, Amanda and Nick’s mum went back to the apartment to pack bags for you both, Amanda dropping the bags and his mum back at her place where you were both going to stay for a while and Sonny organised a cleaner for your apartment for when you were both ready to go back. Liv told Nick to start his leave to keep an eye on you, while she, Fin and Rafael worked on the case against the FBI agent to make sure the book was thrown at him harder this time.

You were finally back at Nick’s mum’s sitting on the spare bed after having a shower and his mum making your favourite dish, Nick just got out of the shower and he was making you a tea. He walked over to sit next to you on the bed, sitting the cup on the bedside table and he sat down right next to you, his arm going around you and his hand resting on your belly.

You moved yourself to lay into his side, his arm coming down to rub up and down your arm, kissing the top of your head and then resting his head on top of yours, a comfortable silence filling the room till Nick broke it,

“We will stay here as long as you want to, I’ll go and pick up the bassinet and the new born stuff tomorrow and we will look for another apartment we can move into as soon as we can, a secure one this time”

“I like that idea”

You sat up off him and your eyes locked with his, you both sat there for a moment looking deep into each others eyes. Your hand rose up to his cheek, a smile pulled to his face and he lent into your hand,

“You were on my mind the whole time” you whispered.

“You were on mine too. Everything was out of my control, I wanted to go out to find you, I felt so helpless. I needed you to be safe” a tear rolled down his cheek and landed on your thumb “I couldn’t lose you” you both giggled when the baby kicked hard and Nick lent down kissing your belly and muttering into it “You too, mi pequeña niña, Te quiero” Nick kissed your belly again.

Nick sat back up and rested his forehead on yours, both of his hands moving to the sides of your head. Nick pulled back slightly, his hands still on your head and yours on his cheek. Nick titled his head to the side looking into your eyes again,

“Nick, kiss me, Please?”

A small smile pulled to his face again and he licked his lips before he closed the gap and his lips met with yours, fitting together. The kiss never deepened, it was soft, slow and loving. Nick peaked your lips, then along your cheek till he hugged you tightly in his arms pulling you into his warm solid body as he sat back on the bed head. You laid into him, your head resting under his chin,

“I love you mi amor, so much”

“I love you too babe”

Tags: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo

[plaidbooks]

The R Drug part 4

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long! I got swept up in bingos and lost motivation for it along the way. But it’s here now, and I hope you all enjoy it ❤

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Tags: alcoholism, mentions of alcohol poisoning, a lil bit of a steamy make out, but that’s it

Words: 2114

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @beardsanddetectives​  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31 @objection-argumentative

Year 1:

Sonny hardly contacts you. You go weeks with nothing from him, only to wake up at 4am with a phone call and a very drunk Sonny.

“Sonny? It’s 4am here—”

“Doll…I’m so—” you can hear how his words slur, and you can also hear that he’s crying— “so sorry, doll. I shoulda neva touched ya like that—”

“Dominick, are you drunk?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, worried and annoyed at once. “So—sorry…so sorry…” and then he hangs up. You fell back onto the bed, concerned about him; Genoa was only six hours ahead of Manhattan. He was drunk at…10am. That wasn’t healthy.

Unable to fall back asleep, you shot him a text, making sure he was okay before you got in the shower. But he never responded. Sighing, you call his mom; you still had her number since Sonny called her from your phone, and you had been growing close with his parents.

She tells you that she’s worried he’s drinking away his problems, but every time she offers to go to Genoa, he shoots her down, telling her he needs time alone. You’re just worried that time alone means him sinking further and further into the bottle.

 ********************

Year 2:

You saw when your phone lit up, Sonny’s number flashing on your screen. You glanced around the precinct before answering your phone, heading for the on-call room for privacy. It had been three months since you had a drunken call from him, and you were going to lay down the law with him.

“Listen, Sonny, I can’t listen to your drunken ramblings while at work—”

“Ah, shit, ya at work, huh?” he asked, cutting you off. But he sounded lucid rather than drunk. “I’m sorry; I forgot the time difference. I just wanted ta talk, let ya know…I’m not drinkin’ anymore. Look, I’ll let ya go; text me when ya free so we can catch up…please.”

You felt bad for assuming, but with your only contact for the past year being drunk Sonny, it had become habit. “Y—yeah, I’ll see if I can leave early, okay? But don’t stay awake for me.”

“Don’t get in trouble fer me,” he replied, making you chuckle. “I’ll talk ta ya soon…and I’m sorry, fer the past year.”

 *******************

You were no longer with SVU; it had been too hard working there, especially without Sonny. But you also couldn’t deal with the stares, even from your squad. So, you transferred to Homicide instead. And your boss thankfully let you leave early.

You texted Sonny the moment you were home, and instantly he was calling you.

“First, I wanna say I’m sorry fer the drunk calls—”

“Dominick Carisi Jr. If you say the phrase “I’m sorry” one more time, I’m going to fly to Genoa and smack you,” you replied, cutting him off.

He fell silent for a moment before he let out a laugh. “Yeah, I bet ya tired of hearin’ that, huh? Well…After ya left here, I—I spiraled. Hard. Turned ta the bottle, if ya couldn’t tell. But I hit the bottom, and I’m startin’ ta work my way back up.”

“What happened? What bottom did you hit?” you asked, breathless. You were happy he was telling you all this, because you had been so, so worried. But you also didn’t want to pry into his personal life or make him uncomfortable.

It took him a moment to respond. “I…it was 5am when I woke up, shakin’ fer a drink. I remember the first three shots as I made a cocktail, and then…. I woke up in a hospital bed, my stomach pumped. I guess I dropped ta the floor when I lost consciousness, and my downstairs neighbor heard it.”

“Oh my god, Sonny! Are you okay now?” you asked, wanting nothing more than to give him a hug, hold him to you.

“Yeah, I’m good now. I had my stomach pumped and part of my liver cut out, but I’m okay. I no longa have the urge ta drink, and I dumped everythin’ I had. But please, tell me what’s goin’ on with ya; how’s life at the precinct?”

You spent hours talking to Sonny that night, even though it was getting later and later for him. He had so many questions, wanting to know everything going on with you. He vaguely mentioned that he got a job at a grocery store as a cashier, but otherwise, he was focused on you.

 ****************

Year 3:

You and Sonny talked almost every day, falling back into your habits before all this mess happened. You joked around, sent funny pictures to each other, ranted about your days; it was almost as if nothing ever happened. Almost.

From the pictures, you could tell that he was getting tanner, and he started growing out his hair and beard, making you swoon. Not that you’d tell him that; you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with you flirting yet.

But you were happy that things were getting back to normal with you two. It had been almost 4 years since the club incident, and it barely crossed your mind anymore. You had dated since Sonny was in Genoa, but no one seemed to be working for you. At least you could make out with someone without having flashbacks, so you called it a win.

You knew why it wasn’t working out for you, though; you were in love with Sonny, had been since the moment you met him. You were able to move past the club, but you couldn’t move past him. That’s why you had hated yourself so much, and that’s why you felt terrible leaving him behind in Italy. When he kissed you outside the airport in Genoa, you had thought that maybe he had felt the same way about you. Then that first year with drunk Sonny happened, and you weren’t sure about anything anymore.

You were still close with his family, too. Ma Carisi often invited you over for dinner, and you met Sonny’s sisters. You were the emergency babysitter for both Mia (who didn’t think she needed a sitter, until she met you and had fun with you) and Bella’s little girl. And Pa Carisi enjoyed having debates about laws with you, plus the odd sports talk. Slowly, you became one of the family, and you loved them all like your own.

 ***************

Year 4:

Ma Carisi called you, inviting you over for dinner once again. You accepted, telling her you’d be there in thirty. You had to park on the street with all the cars there; the Carisi girls were home for dinner, as well. You smiled as you made your way up the path to the front door, then knocked. The door opened, but instead of Ma Carisi greeting you with a warm smile, it was Sonny.

“Hey doll,” he said, eyes lit up with amusement. You froze for only a moment before you were crushing him in a bear hug. You heard the huff of air as you took the air from his lungs, but you didn’t care; you had missed him so much. You had pinned his arms next to him, so he couldn’t even hug you back.

“Doll…ya crushin’ me…” he gasped, and you finally let him go. Though, you kept your hands on his arms, not believing that he was there, in front of you.

“Are you back for good?” you asked, your voice hushed. You were waiting for him to deny it, for him to say he was only visiting.

“I’m back fer good. Already got my apartment—” He was cut off again as you hugged him, burying your face in his chest. You couldn’t stop the tears that appeared, so happy to have your best friend back. He rubbed your back, murmuring that it’s all okay now, and you had the sudden urge to kiss him. You fought the urge, not wanting to complicate things.

Instead, you ran your hands over his back, then leaned away to look at him. “Have you been working out?” It was true that he was deliciously tan, his hair coifed, and his beard trimmed neatly. He was already so much more attractive than you remembered, even with the pictures he had sent.

He barked out a laugh, a gleam in his eye. “I have, yeah. Whenever I felt the urge ta drink, I instead went to work out. I’m not a body builder or anythin’, though.”

“I’m proud of you, Sonny,” you said, and you meant it. You had gone through hell after the club incident, but Sonny didn’t have a walk in the park either. And you were glad he had found himself.

A pink tint appeared on his cheeks as he smiled at you. He took your hand, kissed your knuckles, and you swooned.

 ******************

After the surprise greeting at the front door, he brought you into the house. Ma Carisi and all his sisters gave you a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, and Pa Carisi patted your shoulder; the normal greeting from the family. But now that Sonny was there, too, the energy was truly alive. Everyone was smiling and laughing, having a fantastic time together. The talk was loud, happy, and energized. It was almost as if Sonny hadn’t been hiding in Genoa for four years.

After the talk had finally died down, it was time for you to go home. Sonny offered to walk you to your car, and you agreed, not wanting to leave him quite yet.

“I’m so glad you came back, Sonny. I’ve missed you,” you said as you stood by your driver’s side door.

He grinned at you. “A promise is a promise. I told ya I’d come back once I was…better.”

“And are you better? Did you date at all in Genoa?”

His smile faded, and you worried you offended him. You were about to apologize when he spoke. “I am and I did. But no one there was…it fer me, ya know?”

“Yeah…same thing here. I dated a few people, but no one felt right—the spark wasn’t there. At least I had no flashbacks; I hardly remember that night anymore, to be honest,” you said, looking into his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.

Sonny simply nodded. “Me either, really. It was so long ago…plus, I bet the drinkin’ didn’t help. But I do remember you, showin’ up outta nowhere on a random street in Genoa. Talkin’ me through the worst time of my life.”

“And I remember you, comforting me during a thunderstorm when you didn’t have to do that. Your emotions were everywhere; I couldn’t imagine the turmoil I must’ve put you through—”

“No, no, look at me,” he muttered, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “No matter what happens—in the past or the future—I wanna take care of ya, make sure you’re okay. Comfortin’ ya, it was a slice of normalcy after I thought I’d neva have that again. I needed ya there, and I’m so thankful I had ya.”

You smiled up at him, melting into his touch. His thumb stroked your cheekbone, and you felt closer to him than ever before. “You know what else I remember, Sonny?”

“Hm?”

Slowly, you leaned forward, going slow enough that he had plenty of time to pull away. But instead, he also leaned in until your lips brushed against each other. You smiled softly before you pressed your lips more firmly to his. The hand still cupping your cheek tilted you slightly, letting him kiss you a little more forcefully, his beard tickling you as he moved.

There was the spark that was missing from all your past relationships; you had felt it in the airport, but it wasn’t the right time. Now, however, there was nothing holding you back from deepening the kiss, your tongues coming together in a beautiful dance.

Sonny gently pushed you back against your car, the kiss getting more heated. Your hands went to his shaggy, luscious hair, tugging softly and making him moan into your mouth. His hands dropped to your hips, pushing you back against the car as his tongue memorized your mouth.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, both of you panting hard. You were about to suggest he show you his new apartment when he muttered, “I wanna take this slow. Please.”

You shut your mouth, nodding. You’d do anything to make him comfortable and happy. “I can do slow. As long as I have you, Sonny.”

His eyes brightened and he gave you his signature goofy smile. “Ya have me fer as long as ya want me.”