curl up to you

actual-jar-of-water  asked:

40 + 44 with Chris Beck 💛

Originally posted by sebsbuckybarnes

There was movement next to you, a stirring that generally equated to either an animal or a small child wriggling into your bed early in the morning and finding a comfortable space between you and your husband, Chris. 

Lazy weekend mornings often required having your son, Avery, or one of the two lazy dogs that you owned, curl up alongside you and rest under the soft sunrise. 

Groaning softly, you rolled over in your space in the bed, feeling over to find either a tuft of soft hair or a handful of silky fur in your hands. Instead, there was the starchy linen of the duvet and a newly empty space where your husband had recently been sleeping. 

You cracked open one eye, glancing around the room. Chris, dressed in a NASA sweatshirt and some sweat pants, was gently applying moisturiser to his face, glaring at his reflection in the vanity mirror where you spent many an hour applying make-up. 

Rolling over in the duvet, you mustered the energy to lift your head and stare at him. 

‘Hey. You were naked ten minutes ago.’ 

Chris smirked, running a hand through his unruly mop of dark hair. He smiled crookedly at the sight of you still half asleep and curled up in the large bed you shared. 

‘So I’m aware.’

Lazily, your hand reached for the alarm clock on the bedside table. It had barely gone seven, still essentially the night time as far as your weekend plans were concerned. With narrow eyes, you glared up at Chris, pretending for a moment to be angry with him. 

‘Why are you up so early?’

‘By my calculations, our son is due in any minute. And I’d rather not traumatize him this early.’ 

You let out a half chuckle, burying your face into the pillow once again. 


Chris took another long, lingering look at you, reminding himself for the billionth time just how lucky he truly was. He’d popped the question almost as soon as his expedition from Mars had ended, and now the pair of you inhabited a large country home just outside of Boston. 

Close enough to the city that you could still get around, but far enough away that you felt as though you could still maintain a piece of your sanity. 

You felt Chris slide back into bed after a moment and pull you close to him, his toned arms wrapping around your middle. Consciously, you sucked it in, aware that some of the baby weight was still lingering. 

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, relishing in the feeling of getting to hold his wife close to him whenever he wanted. You hummed gently. 

‘Good morning.’

‘And to you too,’ Chris said with a soft, husky chuckle, pressing a series of soft butterfly kisses along the nape of your neck and ending at your temple. 

A shiver ran down your spine. His warm palms slipped under the fabric of your t-shirt, slowly tracing the skin of your stomach. Gingerly, they crawled their way up until they were cupping your loose breasts, massaging the plump flesh in his palms. You couldn’t help but allow a shaky moan slip from your lips. 

After a moment, however, you reminded yourself that you were no longer in college and casual gropings in the early morning could very easily be interrupted by impressionable minds. Reluctantly, you pushed Chris’s hands away from your body. 

‘Have you lost your damn mind? What if Avery comes in?’

As if on cue, you could hear the sound of footsteps padding down towards the bedroom and, after a few moments, the familiar creak of the bedroom door opening. Your side was the closest to the door, and with a quick peek, you could see Avery’s tiny round face poking inside. 

He looked almost identical to his father. A soft mane of shaggy dark hair that stuck up in a hundred different places and the smile that brightened a room. He was a soft, sensitive little boy who still clamored for a cuddle with his Mama whenever things didn’t look so good. 

Much like both his father and mother, he was quiet and studious, carefully drawing and reading during his spare time. Fascinated by space, Chris consistently brought him home souvenirs from NASA and decorated his room with glow-in-the-dark stars, that he promised would protect him at night. 


‘Hey baby. You wanna come cuddle with us?’ 

Avery’s face lit up like the skyline of New York as his tiny feet padded across the floor again and he scrambled up, clutching the sheets. You leaned over and lifted him up, settling him into your lap. 

The little boy curled up against your warm body, clutching a handful of his shirt as a reminder that you were right there. Chris leaned over and pressed a kiss to the little boy’s hair. With a soft smile, you began to run your hand over Avery’s hair, soothing him back into sleep. 

‘So, buddy- what do you want to do today?’ Chris asked sleepily, rolling onto his side so he could smile at his son.

There was always a sparkle in his eye whenever he and Avery had a conversation. Like he couldn’t quite believe that this was his son. 

‘Can we do painting?’

A look was exchanged between the pair of you. Chris ruffled his hair. 

‘We can definitely try. It might just have to be outside.’ 

That seemed to satisfy the little boy, who curled up tighter into your chest and held his plush bear close. Your heart felt as thought it might burst out of your chest with a sudden love for the child in your arms. You adored him. 

Chris pressed a kiss to your forehead and you sunk back against him in the bed, warm, content and- finally- happy.

10 Things Shawn Mendes Definitely Will Do : A Dad List

1. Make breakfast every Saturday morning and plate it on those ceramic dishes your kids made you for Mother’s Day a couple years back.

2. Be completely oblivious to how all of your daughter’s teachers flirt with him at parent-teacher conferences.

3. Come home late after a long day of press and just HAVE to take pictures of how you and all your kids are curled up on the couch, all snuggled and sleepy.

4. Think absolutely everything your kids do is ingenious and makes it hard for either of you to punish them for something like writing on their bedroom wall because Shawn’s always saying things like “but look at how accurate that dog drawing is.” 

Keep reading

Another troubling day

Bendy fic
No pairings
Bendy POV
Your weary eyes cracked open, you sat up from the spot on the floor and stretched your aching body. The sounds of the projectors that echoed through the old studio melded together with the sound of wood creaking and gears moaning. “Another lonely, dark, and dreary day.” You sighed, letting some of the ink that made up your mass drip onto the rotten floor boards as you trudged towards Boris’s room. You looked up at his body on display and sighed,“I really wish you were here Boris, at least then I’d have somebody here with me.” You let out a few dark colored tears as curled up on the chair next to Boris’s “display”. You wrapped an old sheet you often used as a blanket around your trembling body as more tears flowed from your eyes. You couldn’t help but let sobs rack your body as your thoughts went to your dear friend Boris, the one who stuck by you when others shut you out because of what you are. He was there for you when you cried, he made you laugh and gave you a home, then everything happened and now he’s locked on to a table with his chest open and ink dripping from his body. After sobbing for who knows how long, you calmed yourself as you dragged yourself to a drawing desk that sat in the corner of a hallway with a light on it. A while ago, you found an old pen set and an ink jar under one of the tables and taught yourself how to use it. Now, you grabbed the ink jar from a spot on the floor where ink dripped into it from one of the tubes throughout the studio. You placed a sheet of canvas paper on the table and started to sketch a doodle of yourself with an old pencil you found with the pens. Once you were done, you started to ink the sketch and eventually filled in and finished. You pinned the finished piece up to dry on a line and began the to do the next frame. Drawing and animating was really the only thing you could do, animating and watching yourself go on adventures helped you escape by imagining yourself in situations that would most likely never happen. Your hand started to cramp up and you paused in the middle of a frame to stretch and massage your wrist and hand. Your eyes pricked with tears when your muscles cramped up more and stiffened in pain, you kept massaging to the best of your ability but the pain only worsened and small hiccups shook your body as the pain spread to your hand and forearm. You walked back to Boris’s room and sat on the floor, you leaned against one of the post that stood in front of Boris and went limp. You let your aching arm rest beside you as you cried from the pain, only Boris and you knew this, but your hands were sensitive. You whimpered at the pain but remained still as you waited for the pain to lessen enough to move. “I miss you, Boris, I wish you were here.” You whispered to Boris’s placed body before closing your eyes and falling into a troubled and stiff sleep.

anonymous asked:

if i stop anonymously requesting your werewolf mccree assume i'm dead. i love it so much please write more whenever it's convenient ; v;

I love writing werewolf mccree so much. I know that I have a lot to still work on but I’d be willing to take some more werewolf!mccree requests if there were any ouo;;;

By the time morning rolled around, you were curled up at your dining table, clutching your cup with bandaid covered fingers. Jesse lowered himself into the seat next to you with two full bowls of cereal in hand. Reyes was across from him on your other sides, scrubbing his face over his hands with a loud yawning groan.

And across from you was a highly amused girl of indiscriminate age and purple hair.

“You can call me Sombra,” she purred, taking the second bowl from Jesse without a glance to him.

You stared at her tiredly, thinking about how her voice made the scrapes and bruises on your side ache. “There’s two of them,” you mumbled. “You bring two of them into my house and expect me to be all chill about it, papí?” you asked.

Reyes released a bark of laughter, doubling over into the table when Jesse choked on his cereal. Sombra shot you a grin full of teeth.

“I like them.”

“I’d say the same thing but you threw me into the street with a headbutt in the middle of the night, so sorry if I’m a little bitter,” you replied. Reyes propped his chin up in his hand, spinning the cup of coffee he had been nursing in slow circles.

“In my defense, she was following Jesse’s scent. He marked this whole damn block.”

“That’s disgusting, Jesse McCree,” you grumped.

He dropped his spoon to the table and lifted the bowl to his lips, drinking down the milk in three gulps and a loud, satisfied sigh. “In my defense, there’s a lot of scary shit in town and I wanted to protect my date so you can bite me.”

“Would they turn into a werewolf if they bit McCree?” Sombra asked, waving her spoon around between you and the aforementioned boy. “If they broke skin.”

You shoved your chair out from the table and turned to the doorway. “It is too fuckin’ early for this shit, please. Someone. Wake me up in a few hours when my brain has had a chance to relax from this nonsense.”

Jesse leaned back in his chair to watch you walk down the hall to your room, letting out a very quiet but appreciative hum. “We’ll still be here!” he called.

“Peachy,” you droned.

Sombra slurped at the milk in her bowl, eyeing the two men she was left at the table with. When she had drank the last of it, she set it down and wiped her mouth. “I like them,” she repeated.

anonymous asked:

Could we have a blurb about cocky little Logan realizing that you left a hickey on him too (because we all know he would be hella into marks on his partner) and teasing you about it?

A/N: I kind of went the “real world” version of Logan vs the “westworld” Logan- hope that’s ok!

The clock had just struck six when you walked in the door. You were finally home from a long day at work and kicked off your heels. Nothing sounded better in that moment than popping open a bottle of wine and curling up with some bad reality TV. No sooner had you started thumbing through the mail on the counter when you heard a gravely voice call across the living room.

“Do you know what happened to me today?” Logan was already home. You were so tired and eager to get home that you hadn’t even noticed his car was in the driveway.

“What happened to you today?” You smiled at him as you sat down next to him on the couch, crossing your legs over his.

“Well, if you recall, I had a very important board meeting this afternoon.” You nodded in comprehension. He had mentioned several times over the last week that he had to be on his game for this meeting. “And do you know what I found right before I had to go speak in front of a bunch of old fucks?” You shook your head no, unsure where he was heading with this story. Instead, he hooked a finger in the collar of his shit and pulled it down just slightly. He revealed a rather large hickey that was ranging in color from blood red to a deep purple.

“Oh Logan. I’m so sorry! I should have thought about it before getting so crazy last night…” Your voice trailed off, concerned you had really embarrassed him during something you knew was important. 

“Are you kidding me, babe?” he laughed. “It was the only thing keeping me from losing my fucking mind in that meeting. I kept thinking about my sweet girl sucking on my neck. Then I thought about you sucking my dick…”

“Oh shut up! You were focused on that meeting, don’t even lie to me,” you said, a blush spreading across your face.

“And I thought about making you blush the way you are right now.” He leaned over and placed an open mouthed kiss right below your ear. “Usually I’m the one sending you to work with hickies though,” he whispered before biting down on your soft flesh, causing you to yelp a bit. You could feel him smile against your skin; he had gotten exactly the reaction he wanted from you. Logan continued kissing his way down your neck, nipping along the way. “What do you say we go upstairs so I can send you to work with a present tomorrow?”

You nodded your head and bit down on your bottom lip. He moved from under your legs and stood up in front of you. Logan effortlessly scooped you up, tossing you over his shoulder. You giggled and clawed at his back as he swatted you once on your backside before carrying you up the stairs.

The Best Farron (Final Rose)

Vanille curled up against Lumina. “You know,” she murmured. “Snow and Fang might be happy with Serah and Lightning, but I definitely married the best Farron.”

“Oh?” Lumina grinned and scratched behind Vanille’s fox ears, drawing a contented sigh from the Faunus. “What makes you say that?”

“Would you believe me if I said I’ve done a statistical analysis?”

“If anyone else said that, I wouldn’t believe them. But since it’s you… yes, I believe you.” Lumina chuckled. “So… what did this statistical analysis say?”

“Well, first of all, you are the least stabby Farron.”


“Yes, it’s a scientific term. It refers to your likelihood of going on a murderous rampage that will undoubtedly involve a lot of stabbing.” Vanille smiled lazily. “You’d be surprised by the results. I mean… I expected Lightning to score highly on the Stabbiness Index, but Serah is off the charts.”

“You know, Serah always has had the worst temper out of the three of us. I mean she’s not as scary as Lightning, but that’s not for lack of trying.” Lumina laughed. “It’s also why nobody interrupts her when she’s in the kitchen. Too many knives nearby.”

“I know. You, on the other hand, are merely moderate on the Stabbiness Index unlike your two sisters, which is a good thing because I’m fairly sure that if I’d married Serah or Lightning, they would have stabbed me by now. Unlike Snow, I don’t have what is essentially a giant, walking forcefield, and unlike Fang, I can’t heal from multiple stab wounds.”

“In fairness, Lightning has never stabbed Fang… well… outside of sparring.” Lumina paused. “And mainly because she knows Fang can take it.”

Vanille pressed her face into the crook of Lumina’s shoulder. “You also smell nicer.”

“I smell nicer?” Lumina raised one eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yep. Don’t count out this nose of mine. I am a fox Faunus.” Vanille ran one finger along Lumina’s stomach. “It’s hard to put it into words, but Lightning has always reminded me of… a thunderstorm. It’s not exactly the same, but there’s that same sense of gathering power.”

“She smells like gathering power?”

“Oh, come on. Give me a break. It’s more of an impression thing than a precise smell.”

“And what does Serah smell like?”

“Funnily enough, she reminds me of lightning, all sharp and crackling.”

“And me?”

“You’re that calm after the storm.” Vanille grinned lazily. “And that’s the best part, the part where you’re not going to be hit by lightning or flattened by the wind or anything like that.”

Lumina sighed. “That has to be a Faunus thing because none of that made sense to me.”

“Well, the important thing is that I got the best Farron.” Vanille shrugged. “And can you imagine the kinds of kids I would have with Serah or Lightning? They would be indescribably evil.”

“There is that.” Lumina kissed Vanille. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy with your choice.”

“I definitely am.” Vanille shifted slightly. “Now can you go back to scratching behind my fox ears? It’s kind of awkward for me to do it myself.”

Shot (Sherlock x Reader)

Originally posted by sherlockspeare

Cotton filled your head, your ears rung and your vision was blurred. You stumbled backwards until you collided with the wall. Your hand moved to your stomach. Wetness. You pulled your hand away. Red. Frantically, you looked up. John had tackled the person that had the gun, Sherlock was rushing to your side. Wait, when had you sat down?

You looked down again, the red catching your attention again. Your hands were shaking slightly, but you felt no pain. You also heard shouting, but it was muffled to the point where you couldn’t understand anything.

You looked up again. John was on your other side now. They both were pulling and pushing you until you laid flat on your back. You would have liked to curl up into a ball, but they kept holding you down. Now your stomach was burning unpleasantly, tears started to cloud your vision. Why were you crying?

A hand on your face, pushing away the hair from your forehead. It felt sticky. Were you sweating that much? Or was it… blood? The hand cupped your cheek, shaking your head slightly. Sherlock was in front of you, his lips moving but nothing reached your ears.

You were tired. So damn tired. Couldn’t you just sleep? Well, you could, but Sherlock kept shaking your head and squeezing your hand. For some reason, you felt the need to tell him your feelings. “Sherlock”, you croaked. You smiled, at least you thought you were. Sherlock shook his head, turning to John and saying something, then back to you. “I love you”, you wheezed. Sherlock looked shocked. His grip on your hand went lax. Finally you were able to sleep.

Annoying beeping, hushed voices. Something stung your arm. More beeping, even quieter voices. Blinding pain, then nothing. White room, unpleasant smell. What happened? Pressure on your hands, wet spots on your arm. You looked over. John was sleeping there, his face wet, but relaxed. His hand gripped yours tightly. Your gaze wandered over to your other side. Sherlock smiled, eyes worriedly searching your face. You smiled back. His hand that didn hold yours moved to your cheek. “I love you too.”

anonymous asked:

Did Wigglebutt ever try to lay on Regis's lap and purr to help him with his aches and pains? Or when somebody is sad does she try to purr to help them

Everytime she got into Grandpa Regis’ lap she would purr thinking that it would help him. This little cat is just a darling with the loudest purrs ever. When she sees that someone is sad she’ll rub against whatever she can get to while purring so loudly. If you ever find her curled up on top of Freckles for their daily naps she’ll be purring up a storm.

anonymous asked:

I want Mista to take care of my because I'm sick and I crave cuddles

Mista is a bit of a mess at times but for your sake he actually tidies things up and attempts to prepare a nutritious meal, after tucking you into bed with all the blankets in his house of course. After he manages to whip up something decent he spoon feeds you despite your protests and proceeds to curl up with you and stroke your back until you fall asleep

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.