maybe will help sleep

how are you?

Since I moved from Lutz place I feel miserable. I think I might be allergic to swedish meatballs. The wine is dreadfull. It gives you a terrible headache. I make sure I don’t get dehydrated though. I can’t fall asleep and I’m feeling really restless all the time like I just ran a couple of kilometers. Maybe I get myself a haram here. That might help with the sleeping.

Ello my friends! I had the wonderful chance to work for the @fairytailzine for charity! Here’s a tiny preview, everyone worked so hard there are a lot of promising things awaiting so please check out @fairytailzine and pre-order if you can to support charity and appreciate art of our talented artists!

What if He Freaks? (B. Barnes x Reader)

Word Count: 2386

Warnings: smut, daddy kink.

A/N: I didn’t read this over, please point out any mistakes.

Steve had ushered you, Natasha and Wanda up to your room, telling you to “bond” and “relax” he was literally like the scolding parent. You all agreed that it would be nice to have a girls night and as most sleepovers go, you ended up drunk talking about your love lives and your impossible crushes.

Wanda was going on about Vis and how certain things would work, while you and Natasha were talking about Steve and Bucky, the dynamic duo.

“So, Natasha, if could sleep with either Steve or Bucky, who would you pick?” Natasha had to think, but she ended up picking Steve as you thought she would. Both your heads turned to Wanda, who blushed profusely.

“I’m spoken for.” She said, her light accent slipping towards the end of her sentence. Natasha wasn’t fazed, but you were momentarily shocked.

“I knew you and Vision had suppressed feelings, but you’re together now?!” She laughed and nodded and you smacked her arm.

“Tell me sooner next time, yeah?”

“What about you Y/N?” You had to think.

“Steve.” You answered after much thought.
“I feel like he’d be better. Bucky has been through… too much, he’d be … nervous.” You finished.

There was a pause and then Nat spoke up.
“I feel like Bucky has a Daddy kink.”

You nearly spit out your drink at the thought.

“Now, I really wanna call him Daddy, but what if he freaks out.” You said, recovering.

Both Wanda and Nat were laughing at the idea of the Winter Soldier freaking out over a silly nickname, but it was a serious concern. What if you called him Daddy as a joke and he got mad.

Why should you care? You decided you would do it.

“Alright alright, Y/N, truth or dare?” Wanda asked. You smirked, feeling brave.

“Dare.” The two girl exchanged looks and you knew you’d made a bad decision

“I dare you to ask Steve out.” You sighed in relief.

“Oh that’s not so bad.”

“With Bucky there, and you have to be flirty about it.”

“Well that’s a little bit worse, but I’ll do it.” They both watched you expectantly.
“N-not right now! Guys it’s two am!” You scolded. It was time to sleep, you’d all be nursing light hangovers in the morning, or afternoon, depending on when you woke.

None of you had hangovers as bad as you’d expected, except Wanda, who woke suddenly and rushed to the bathroom. After Wanda cleaned up and took some Advil she looked at you with pleading eyes.

“You should ask Steve out to dinner tonight, it’s Saturday and neither of you have any plans.” You agreed seeing as it was the only way to get the girls to leave you alone.

Your little trio took the lift down to the kitchen and you immediately spotted Steve and Bucky talking. You plastered a flirtatious smile on your face and walked over to the two soldiers.

“Hey Steve, can I talk to you for a moment?”
Both boys glanced at you for a moment before Steve answered.

“Of course Y/N. What’s up?”

“Are you free tonight, I was hoping you’d accompany me to dinner?” The intimidating super soldier was momentarily flustered.

“Y-you mean like a date?” Your smile brightened.

“Yeah, like a date.” He nodded.

“I’d love to. Uhm, I’ll come pick you up at 6?”

“That’s perfect.” You turned to the girls who were pretending not to listen. You sat at the table and they both pryed you for details. You answered all of their questions until eventually, they left you alone. You took the stairs this time, taking your time going back to your room. It was almost six and you needed at LEAST 15 minutes to get ready for your date. You didn’t bother showering, you had done that this morning, but you did put on makeup. You threw on the dress Nat had laid out for you and admired the finished product. You looked stunning.

Steve was on time, as you’d expected. What you didn’t expect was for him to be the perfect gentleman, he even brought you flowers. He held the door to your car after insisting that he drive because he already picked a restaurant.

When you arrived, Steve ran around the car to let you out, against your protests. He even linked your arm with his.

“For someone with no experience with girls, you’re surprisingly good at this.” His face flushed red and he thanked you, obviously pleased that you approved.

The date went smoothly, since you were already friends you discussed missions (wow what a great date topic) and your lives. You honestly had a great time and you were pretty sure Steve did too.
Since you didn’t have an apartment for him to drop you at, he walked you to the door to your room. You both stopped and turned to look at each other.
“I had a great time tonight Y/N, thank you for taking me out.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, I had fun too.”
He looked down at you and stepped forward, taking your hip and pulling youa bit closer, he leaned down and captured your lips in a soft kiss. You kissed back a bit harder, telling him it was okay. When you realized what was happening, you pushed him away.
“I’m sorry Steve, I-I can’t. I have to go.” You hung your head and retreated into your room. You stripped from your dress and put on shorts and a sweater.
You couldn’t sleep, you were tossing and turning, but you felt really bad. You tossed your blankets off and walked to your desk, taking parchment and a pen. You couldn’t just leave Steve hanging, so you wrote him a note.
Hey Steve, I had a great time last night and that kiss was great, but I don’t like you as anything more than a friend. I’m sorry that I lead you on like that and I hope we can stay friends.
From Y/N

You walked the hall, following the familiar path to Steve’s room. You slipped the paper under his door and made your way downstairs, maybe some tea would help you sleep.

You were relieved that no one was in the kitchen, otherwise you’d have to explain what had happened on your date. You grabbed a tea bag out of the box on the counter and put some water in the kettle. As high tech as Tony’s kitchen was, you preferred to do things the old fashioned way.
You were fiddling with the tea bag and almost jumped out of your skin when you looked up. Bucky was standing in the door frame. You cocked your eyebrow at him.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He said quietly. You moved out of his way so he could grab an apple from the fruit bowl behind you.

“How was your date?” He questioned, eyeing you out of the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know, I had a great time, but I don’t think I like Steve like that. I think I have feelings for someone else” Bucky halted his actions.

“But you kissed him?” Your face flushed red.

“You saw?” His jaw clenched.

“Yeah. You don’t like Steve because you have feelings for someone else, who would that be?” Your eyes widened a fraction and you flushed red, stuttering to find an answer. You couldn’t outright say it was him, that’d be too embarrassing. So instead you stuttered to find and answer.

Bucky smirked and you flushed even harder because it was evident that he knew.

“Oh c'mon, it’s just me, doll, nothing to be nervous about.” He took a step closer and your heart stopped.

“You can tell me.” He said, stepping closer and placing a hand on your waist. You back into the counter, your face was the color of flame and you couldn’t find the words to speak.

The kettle broke into a whistle and the air rushed back to you, you ducked out of Bucky’s constricting grasp and spun to grab your cup. You had your back turned to him, pouring the boiling water over the tea bag, you couldn’t believe how much you were shaking and you nearly dropped the cup when Bucky’s hand was placed over yours to help steady you. You placed the pot back on the stove and leaned on the counter, facing the man with the metal arm.

The smirk he gave you spoke volumes and you tried to smile back.

“I’ll just be going then, back to bed.” He said, turning on his heel. You debated whether or not to call after him, you wanted company, especially if it was his.
“Wait.” You called at his retreating figure.
“Stay.” You said, barely suppressing a whimper.

“Now that’s what I wanted to hear.” He said, his voice deep and gravely. He turned back around and walked towards you, he took the mug gently from your hand, placing it on the table a few feet away.

“Hey! I was drinking that!” I scolded.

“You’re not anymore.” He stated with finality. The dominance in his voice had the heat pooling between your legs and you knew you were done for.

He positioned himself between your legs and brought his hand to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You gasped at the sudden contact, almost loosing your footing. He brought his other hand up to steady you and slowly leaned down. He stopped when his lips brushed yours, asking for permission. You leaned up into him, giving him all the permission he needed. The second your lips touched he trailed his hands down your back until they were resting on the backs of your legs. A sign for you to jump. You did as he asked and he hoisted you up, hooking your legs around his hips. A soft moan escaped your lips when he attached his lips to the sensitive spot on your neck.

“We can’t do this here, sugar, let’s take this to my room.” He suggested. Words failed you, so you nodded, detatching yourself from him and taking his hand instead.

You abandoned your tea and walked hand in hand with Bucky down the corridor in complete silence, you didn’t need words. He was rubbing comforting circles over your knuckles.

He opened his door gently, making sure not to wake the whole tower. You smirked to yourself and slamed the door behind you, pushing him up against the door and capturing his lips with his own.

He gasped at your sudden dominance, grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against him.

He slid his hand up under your sweater and you raised your arms for him. He threw it across the room and then followed it with his own shirt.

He only let you marvel at his body for a moment before he brought himself back to you, picking you up. He carried you to the bed and dropped you, taking a step back to admire you.

“You look so good laying there for me, doll. Take your shorts off.”

You did as you were told, stripping yourself of the constricting garment. He watched your every movement with lust-filled eyes. He dropped his pants in one fluid movement, stepping out of them.
Your eyes dropped to the massive bulge in his pants and you heard him laugh. He straddled your hips, trailing kisses from your neck down.  You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his face back you yours, kissing him passionately.

One hand dropped from his hair to his boxers as you palmed him through the fabric, he groaned and you could feel him twitching beneath your touch.

“Fuck doll, you gotta stop” you did as you were told, instead, pulling down his boxers and wrapping your small hand around his cock. He inhaled sharply, tensing under your touch. He pulled your hand away and for a moment you were discouraged.

He laid a chaste kiss on your cheek and whispered in your ear.

“You first.” The bed shifted as he got off, kneeling next to the end. He adjusted you so that your legs were around his neck.

“I like this view.” He added and you blushed at the comment, choosing not to answer. He placed a kiss on your clothed core, causing you to buck your hips upwards. He laughed and removed your panties, placing another kiss, but this time he held your hips in place. He licked his way from your entrance to your clit, nibbling on the bundle of nerves.

His eyes never once left your face, when you moaned his name he stopped, you groaned at the loss of contact and opened your eyes. Bucky had a stern look on his face.
“What’d wrong Buck?’ You questioned.

“That’s not my name tonight. You call me ‘Daddy’, understand?” The combination of his deep voice and the dominance had you shell shocked.

“Y-yes Daddy.” You ignored the embarrassment of him obviously overhearing you and instead enjoyed his praise. He went to work on your chest, massaging your hardened nipples with both hands.

“Do you like that doll?”

“Yes, Daddy, please, more.” You begged.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not done yet.”

He lined himself up with your entrance and slid himself into you. You gasped, adjusting to his size. He paused a moment, letting you adjust before he pulled out, slamming back into you not a second later. He transitioned between soft and hard, looking for your g spot, when he hit it you moaned his name, loudly.

“Tell Daddy how much you love to feel him slamming into you”

“I love it Daddy, please, harder."  He groaned and slammed into you at an alarming rate, both of you were chasing your high. The sound of your moans and the slapping of skin resonated through the empty room. The bubble that had been building in your stomach popped and you bucked your hips upward, screaming Bucky’s name. Not long after you felt the warmth if his seed on your stomach and his body collapsing next to you. You both sat, catching your breath.

Bucky spoke up in the silence.

"Let’s get you cleaned up, baby girl.”

“Yes, Daddy.”



If Things Were Different - Drake x MC (A Royal Romance Fanfic)

[A little note: Me: reading the latest TRR chapter and thinking of all the glorious angst I could write because I love the two of them together. Me: finally giving into doing it before inspiration withers away].

Racing. Her heart has been racing inside her chest. Beating so loudly that she barely hears his hushed undertones. She thinks for a moment that her ears are playing tricks on her; a dirty illusion because of how much she wrestles with wanting more and the guilt that quickly follows. The guilt of having feelings for someone that cannot be hers, not under these circumstances. She opens her mouth to speak, but shuts it just as quickly by the sudden look of desperation in his eyes.

She’s seen that look before; many times on her own face. From moments where she drops her guard, long enough to give a similar glance in his direction. Moments where the guilt doesn’t feel as thick and she allows her selfish thoughts to think of more. More what ifs and could bes; indulgent fantasies until he notices her intense stare and she has to school her expression again. Until she has to slip her mask once more, for the rest of the world to see. A cool mask, she no longer thinks is hers to wear alone.

He wears one too. She understands it better, except he isn’t hiding behind his now. It is as if he has settled with unraveling right in front of her - unfolding the entanglement of emotions she knows him to bury under snarky wit. Wavering on the boarder of intolerance as it often does - it disappears, and the only shred that’s left behind is seized by vulnerability. 

He steps closer and she can’t fathom a reason to step back, to look away, to tell him to leave. All the reasons why she should are in her head but she cannot say them out loud. 

His eyes don’t waver from her face, unblinking they search her eyes. They are penetrating, seeking, looking for something - anything.

Her throat has gone dry and she’s suddenly very afraid. Can she admit it to herself? To him? Her own desire of wanting him to speak, overrides her better judgement. She’s scared of waiting anymore for the other shoe to drop.  But she’s nearly terrified of wanting more. Her heart wants him to finish. Her mind implores to instruct him to go. 

“..If you hadn’t been our waitress that night.” His gaze holds hers,“and I hadn’t been sitting next to Liam…” He trails off but doesn’t look away. He’s looking at her as if he wants her to stop him.

This is her chance. This is when she should say it. I can’t do this to Liam. I can’t do this to you. I can’t do this to me. I can’t do this to us. The words are in her head, screaming at her for release. But she doesn’t. Her eyes are glued to him, and his every move.

“Do you think all of this…”  A ragged breath escapes his lips. His jaw sets like steel before he straightens his shoulders. “Do you think…it could’ve been different between us?” As soon as the words leaves his lips, he stiffens as if he’s waiting for her to react differently. As if he’s waiting for rejection.

Yes. Her heart wants to yell that simple word into existence and she bites her bottom lip in an attempt to stop herself from doing so. Saying it out loud is different from thinking it. Saying it makes it real. 

But she wants it to be real. She wants it so desperately that she feels tears prickling at the side of her eyes.

Her mind indulges again in another fantasy, yet another pointless dream of what ifs. But she doesn’t want to block this one - the images burn so brightly, so vividly that she forsakes her sanity.

She pictures them meeting differently, without Liam - without this royal fairytale fantasy hanging in between them like an unspoken barrier. She’d still be in New York instead of Cordonia, bustling tables for any semblance of a good tip every night until she misses a ride home with her one of co-workers; and has to drag her tired feet across the street. She won’t even notice him at first. Not until she sees him standing under the same bus shelter. His hair is as long as it was right now; except it’s pulled back from his face and he’s wearing a thick jacket when he spots her too.

The weather would have turned bad by then, with the downpour of heavy rain stopping either of them from creating a wide berth of each other. She’d be shivering from the cold, and he’d say something irritably about women not bringing their jackets when he’d notice the lack of one on her. And she would snap back at him about chivalry being dead. His lips would curve into a smile then; not a full smile because those are rare but just a small twist. And it would be just enough to make her miffed, and ignoring all his efforts of taking his jacket would seem as the natural course of action. Until her teeth started to chatter. Until she’d have no choice but to begrudgingly accept. Then as the weather turned worse, they’d huddle against each other for warmth and start talking about the crappy weather. Maybe he’d even mention where he was staying and why he was in New York to begin with.

Her heart twists at the thought and she pictures them walking hand in hand walking across New York Times Square, enjoying their first Christmas together months later.

Yes. Things could have been very different.

He’s been staring at her this entire time, waiting for her to say something. When she opens her mouth again, finally words have come out. “It would’ve been different.” She says simply, lowering her gaze. “Sure you would’ve still been gruff and I would’ve have let you get away with anything…” A small smile stretches across her cheeks as she glances up at him again. “But all the rest? Yeah, it would’ve been different.”

She can’t help thinking about the other versions of her, of him - the ones that had the chance to meet under bus shelters and spent moments in bars sharing their favorite glasses of whiskey. Her heart aches for the versions of themselves she will never meet. “Maybe everything would’ve been different.”

“Riley…” He trails off and his voice has gone hoarse.

The distance between them gradually disappears until she feels his cool hand across her cheek. His eyes flicker and darken until they steal her breath away. Leaning her cheek towards his gentle caress, she closes her eyes for a moment to savor his touch. “Drake…” She mutters softly, stepping closer.

He freezes and suddenly his cool mask is back on. The moment between them has shattered. “Dammit.” He swears. “What am I even doing?”

She watches those dark eyes turn furious and reels away as if she’s been slapped. 

He releases a tired breath and runs his hands through his tousled hair. “I need to go.” He mutters. “I should go.”

He’s going to leave. He’s going to pretend none of this ever happened. The thought terrifies her, and before she can stop herself; her hand reaches out pulling on his wrist until he goes completely still. With her heart hammering inside her chest, she presses her cool face against the slight dampness of his back. He feels like home.

He doesn’t move at first and they are both quietly still. Neither of them speak and Riley is only aware of the sounds of their uneven breathing. Minutes passes by, and neither one of them are willing to let go until finally Drake clears his throat. “Tinsley…you shouldn’t.” He inhales sharply. “You can’t.”

She wedges her eyes closed and doesn’t loosen her arms around him. She hates herself for being so weak, for wanting more. Isn’t he allowed to be her weakness too? “Don’t you get tired of being so careful all the time?” She whispers. She is, she’s so tired of fighting - tired of pretending she doesn’t want this. Whatever this is between them. The pull and push connection she’s never felt with anyone else.

“Constantly.” He mumbles back, before twisting until she’s finally facing him again. 

The cool mask dissolves into an uncertain smile, and she’s struck by how differently he’s looking at her. She’s so used to seeing him smirk that the sudden softness in his express has taken her off guard. He’s looking at her as if she’s special, as if he wants her - no needed her. 

Her throat has gone dry again and she can’t tear her eyes away. 

His eyes dips to her lips and suddenly she’s forgotten how to swallow. “I’m so damn tired of it.”

She feels his fingers softly brush by her ear before travelling along the soft folds of her hair, untangling it’s wavy ends and arching her chin forward. Her eyes grow wide but she makes no move to stop him, when he finally closes the remaining distance between them.

His breath is hot against her lips. Her heart surges and her hands have gone slack beside her. They feel heavy, and her chest feels as if it’s about to burst. When she opens her lips slightly to meet his - she is suddenly met with cool air when he lurches away. 

For a moment all she can do is blink. She blinks a few times, until rationale has begun creeping back in. Standing very still, she watches the man in front of her let out a frustrated cry before stepping away completely. 

She steps back too, and when she stares up at him again, he’s a safe distance away. Her heart sinks with disappointment. 

“I’ve,” His eyes glance up at her again. “I’ve got to get out of here.” He steps towards her but frowns just as quickly once he realizes his mistake. “Now.” 

“Drake -“ 

“Before I do something we might both regret.” His face curves into a bitter smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. 

She doesn’t trust herself to speak, simply nods as he wanders to the door. He pauses to look back at her and she sees everything she’s ever wanted laid out in front of her. 

A man that doesn’t expect more than what she’s able to give. A man that could love her a thousand different ways, over a thousand different lifetimes. But she tells herself she can no longer indulge fantasies, in different versions of their lives that has never existed. She cannot afford to expect a different ending to their probably tragic story.

Little PSA before going because this is making me a bit angry

If anyone reblogged => this art <= from @littleweebyfujoshi-melmel 
please remove it!

I sent a message to the user to let them know that it belonged to @i_37 on twitter and well, right on their profile : 

And the repost had no credits either so that was bothering me a bit.

The result? they have blocked me without a word OTL

So please, avoid their blog and this post, they clearly don’t care at all :’(


A Bucky Barnes One-Shot

Character Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader

Word Count: 2426

Warnings: NSFW 18+. Smut, swearing, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap the willy!) chocolate pie porn.

Request: Hello! I have a request, could you do one where the reader starts working for Tony and soon after the reader and Bucky start a secret affair? Thanks love! - Anon

A/N: Here you go my dear! Sorry that it took me so long!

‘You can do this.’

‘You have worked hard for this.’

‘You deserve this.’

The pep talk you were giving yourself as you drove up to the gate surrounding the Avengers compound wasn’t helping your nerves at all. You leaned forward to look up through your windshield at the concrete walls. This place was a fortress.

You rolled your window down when you approached a booth. You hit the green call button and jumped at the electronic voice that spoke.

Keep reading

“A couple weeks, maybe.”

At my going away happy hour thing someone asked how long I was planning to take off before looking for a new job. “That’s it? Take a month, at least.”

Today marks 3 months.

My former manager offered to review my resume when I finally got tired of hiatus-ing. I sent it to them last week.

So now I’ve got a resume I can send out or whatever one does with those things these days. Put it on LinkedIn, I guess. I’ll worry about that when I get back from Sweden.

Every YouTube video I’ve watched on ‘traveling to Sweden’ or ‘how to speak Swedish’ or 'what have I gotten myself into with this whole Sweden thing’ has included a line about how almost everyone in Sweden speaks English so just go with that, no really, it’s fine. So there’s that.

Extended versions of the above have been on my mind a lot lately. I thought I’d worked through it all and settled on a plan, but apparently there’s something I’m missing.

I was hoping this concert would distract me for a while, but since I wrote most of this out between the penultimate and ultimate bands, I guess that didn’t work out.

The talking smoke detector with an overactive imagination also didn’t work out. It may have been murderized after thinking there was a fire between 2 and 5 am for the fourth time in a month.

i was watching deborah and jon talking about their characters and chemistry during daredevil season 2 and it was really funny to notice that i had a full smile on my face all the fucking time
it’s thrilling to see that they really enjoy and admire each other’s work and qualities and it’ll be a pleasure to see them working together again i caaaan’t wait i love them sm <3 btw marvel honey where’s my motherfucking trailer?????

3 Billion Dollars [Part 6] - G Dragon Mafia!AU

Originally posted by julla

Summary: When your father owes 3 billion dollars to the mafia, he must repay his debt. Although things don’t  exactly the way he hoped.

Genre: angst? a little fluffy at some parts. this low key is another chapter filler

Warning: None really here, at least I don’t think

{part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4} {part 5} {part 6} {part 7} {part 8} {part 9} {part 10} {part 11} {part 12} {part 13} {part 14} {part 15} {part 16} {part 17} {part 18}

A/N: So I’m sorry to my Kpop Fans if you see Teen Wolf stuff on your dash or my blog. It will not change, I love Teen Wolf and it has helped me through a lot. I’m sorry if this bothers you. Anyways, like always my inbox is open and I will always reply to everyone. I hope you enjoy!

~ Admin Brooklyn


Ji Yong hated mornings. He just wanted to sleep, and the clearly irritated expression on his face showed it. He had to start his day though. A meeting, then grabbing Seungri and going for a quick check up on a special talkative someone. Ji Yong raked a hand through his hair, walking out of his room and down the hall. His eyes met with Youngbae’s tired ones.

“How are you doing?” Youngbae sighed rubbing his eyes with his hands. “Why the hell did you make me do this Ji Yong?”

“You were the only one that I trust and was free. Plus she knows you, maybe that’ll help her cope with this.” Youngbae nodded his head, sleep hanging in his eyes. Ji Yong looked at the door, a little anxious to see her. He needed to get his day started. He had an important meeting that he called for. No skipping this one.

“She was crying until, I think, two last night.” Youngbae’s words made Ji Yong perk up. He was paying full attention to you now. concern and a little regret on his face. Youngbae looked at him expectedly.

“I’m just gonna go in and check on her.” Ji Yong mumbled. He opened the cream door, and light flooded into the dark room. The dark colored walls turned everything into a shadow, the only other light source was the light shining from the window. As he stepped into the room, he saw you.

Keep reading

  • What she says: I'm fine
  • What she means: You have reached the phone of Gino Fratelli, I'm not here right now. And, uh, if this is Khonjin, hang up. I don't want to talk to you. I- the, the problem is, with you, is -uh- it's words. Words lack the parameters to accurately describe how I feel about you. But maybe this will help; Every night, I have reoccurring dream. It's you, sleeping in your bed. And it's me, with a pair or gardening sheers. And I tear that stupid-ass nose right off your face, and I put it on top of my fireplace. When your dumbass daddy comes over trying to get it back, 43 trucks fall out of the sky and land exactly where he's standing. Killing him instantly. One day, it'll happen.
This Is Why You Woke Me (Peter Quill x reader)

Request: regaltempo said:Hello! My request is a Peter Quill x Reader. The reader is a human too, who likes and plays classical music on violin, and one day when you think everyone is asleep in the ship you practice on your violin, but little do you know Peter is listening to you on the other side of the wall. After you’re finished he shows himself and asks for a dance and you play a cassette tape of classical music and dance the waltz together. Thank you!  Peter probably has never heard of classical music before. That could be why he is so interested in hearing the music at night. And the reader could be surprised that he doesn’t know and they compromise and he teaches you how to dance and you play classical music for him during the night. And maybe some kissing.

Follow up to Why Did You Wake Me?

“I don’t think she likes me,” Peter groaned quietly, sitting in the pilot seat of the ship and swiveling the chair back and forth nervously.  His friends sat behind him, listing to him complain for the last several hours and growing impatient at the incessant whining session.  “She sits in her room all day and barely says two words to me.”

“I agree that she does not like you.  It’s obvious and you are quite right in finally noticing it,” Drax nodded eagerly, reaching out to slap his friend supportively on the arm, only to have him pull it from his reach.  “This makes you sad.  Would you like to me to speak to her for you and find out why her hatred runs so deeply?”

Keep reading

Daddy Drabbles #9

- Chris tries to help you sleep when the baby is kicking - Based off this

Chris rubbed your belly in circles, trying to soothe the kicking baby. “Come on, little one. Mama has to sleep”. You looked over at the clock blinking on your bedside table, 3:14am. You sighed and turned on your side to face Chris, with a look of despair.

“Just take him out” your thoughts were irrational and the words tumbled out of your mouth in a whine. “You’re a doctor, just take him out” you tried again, looking up at Chris who was shaking his head with an amused smile on his face.

“I’m a flight surgeon, babe” he smiled, still rubbing circles on your belly to settle the growing baby.

“But, I’m so tired” you pouted as Chris pressed a comforting kiss to your forehead. Moments passed your husband still rubbing your belly gently but just as your eyes started drifting closed, a kick from your baby brought them open again. “Baby, do something” you begged quietly. Chris’ brows knitted as he paused and tried to think of how he could help. His mind flashed back to how many times he’d seen you fallen asleep to his rambling and thought how it might help bore you to sleep or even maybe settle the baby.

“Have I ever told you about the Comet Galaxy?” Chris murmured, brushing hair off your face when you sent him a glare.

“Chris, now is not-” but your objection was silenced by his finger on your lip. “Trust me” he whispered, throwing you a soft smile. You sighed heavily, the fatigue draining you but nodded nonetheless.

“So, the Comet Galaxy. It’s in the Abell 2667 cluster and it’s what we call a spiral galaxy” Chris continues speaking, a soft calming tone to his voice hoping to help you sleep as he describes his favourite galaxy. A few minutes past and lost in his words he almost didn’t feel you gripping his arm.  

“Stop-” you frowned to Chris’ dismay “-it’s making him kick more, just stop babe”

Instead of the face of disappointment you expected from Chris at his plan not working, a smile lit up his face. He leans down and presses a kiss to your stomach whispering “don’t worry kid, I’ll tell you the rest when you’re out of there"

You barely got any sleep that night but the smile on Chris’ face in the morning reminded you how it was all worth it.

tiredness/sleep related sentence starters

1. “You look tired.” 

2. “I’m so tired.” 

3. “I haven’t slept in days.” 

4. “I’m so exhausted, but I can’t sleep.” 

5. “Maybe you should go take a nap?” 

6. “What does a person have to do to get a little sleep around here?” 

7. “You need to sleep.” 

8. “Why am I so tired? I get plenty of sleep.” 

9. “I can’t sleep until I finish this project.” 

10. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so tired if you didn’t burn the candle at both ends.” 

11. “You can’t fool me. I see the rings under your eyes, and the way you yawn. You’re exhausted.” 

12. “I want to take a nap, but I just can’t sleep during the day.” 

13. “Here, try this. Maybe it’ll help you sleep.”   

14. “It’s late. Why aren’t you asleep?” 

15. “Don’t fall asleep.” 

16. “Are you tired? I’m tired.” 

17. “I told you, I’m not tired.” 

18. “Did I fall asleep?” 

19. “Why are you sleeping in/out/up/down here, instead of in your bed?” 

20. “You passed out from exhaustion.”  

Denial: Chapter 2


Her lips were so warm.

Slotted against his, Bulma’s mouth felt like his missing puzzle piece. Never could Vegeta have imagined that this single action could cause his soul to swell beyond his body. Her arms were still locked around his neck, holding fast as though he would evaporate and vanish, or worse, just keep running away from her forever. Bulma was preventing this with every ounce of her strength, but what she didn’t realize was that he couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

Though his body was frozen in place, Vegeta’s mind was a whirling dervish; torn between the primal urge to throw this beautiful creature over his shoulder and scream a victory cry, or collapse in the fetal position curled up against her and sob. It was leaning dangerously in favor of the collapse when she began to pull away from him. On their own accord, his lips helplessly trailed after her. Vegeta’s eyes opened to find Bulma looking at him, lips slightly parted and flushed, “You okay?” She breathed.

All he could do was stare at her, chest shaking with each gulp of air. Was he having a heart attack? Is that what that fluttering in his heart meant?

“Vegeta?” Bulma was starting to look nervous, “Was that too much? Oh God, I’m so sorry,” she stepped away from him, hands wringing nervously, “Damnit, I’m such an idiot.”

Wait. What?

Bulma sniffed, wiping the corner of one eye, “I’m so, so sorry. I crossed the line. God, I hope you can forgive me.”

She was gathering her shawl. Now she was putting it on. Was she leaving? No! This wasn’t what was supposed to happen!

Her back was to him, head bowed as she picked up her keys from their place on the kitchen counter, “If you never want to speak to me again, I understand.” Her well manicured fingers were on the door knob, turning it and pulling the door open.

He should move. He should be running. Why wasn’t he? He wanted her. She in some capacity wanted him. The overwhelming feelings inside him must have short circuited something. Vegeta’s brain was screaming at his useless extremities to do something, anything, but before he could his apartment door was wide open.

She was looking at him over her shoulder in the doorway, sky blue eyes filled with tears, “Sorry,” she whispered again, and then closed the door behind her.

Vegeta was still as a statue, staring in quiet disbelief at the now empty place where Bulma had stood. Gone. She was gone.

And it was his fault.

He had fucked everything up.

Why didn’t he respond? Why didn’t he stop her? All it would have taken was a word, a kiss from him, anything…

An ache started in his jaw; he realized he was grinding his teeth together. Vegeta needed something, anything to set his mind straight. Almost robotically he picked up a discarded t shirt from his floor, snatched his own keys and stormed out of the apartment and down the stairs, scrolling with near desperation through his recent calls.

A ring came through the speakers, once, twice, three times before a sleepy voice answered:

“‘Geets? What’s-”

“Kakarot, gym. Now.”

“Wha-now? It’s almost eleven…”

Vegeta hung up; he knew his sparring partner would come. He always did. The need to pound out his confused feelings was outweighing any other desire at this point, and he knew that before he faced Bulma, he had to face himself first.


The moment Goku walked into the gym he knew something was wrong.

Vegeta was throttling a punching bag, which in itself wasn’t that odd, but the blood smears across the surface of it gave the normally flippant man pause. His gym buddy always had a routine: be ten minutes early, drink a bottle of water, wrap his knuckles, and then do work. The fact that Vegeta had missed part of his ritual let Goku know that it was going to be a long night.

Instead of greeting the smaller man with a clap on the shoulder like he normally did, Goku walked to the opposite end of the bag and held it steady, giving a small nod and let Vegeta continue his assault. No words were exchanged for the rest of the session. Though Goku knew he wasn’t the smartest when it came to traditional education , he at least had the common sense to realize that whatever Vegeta was going through had him hot and bothered. And a hot and bothered Vegeta was a dangerous one. The lawyer had a reputation still, even though his teen years were long gone.

When they were younger, the two had run wild across the city together. While Goku had his grandfather to lean on and didn’t purposefully(that being the key word) get into trouble, Vegeta sought it out. Desperate, almost anxious for any kind of attention Vegeta had managed to get into more scrapes than anyone thought humanly possible. Goku had felt a certain responsibility to the older, flame-haired youth despite other people’s grumblings and curses. All had given up on Vegeta.

Except for Goku.

Or, ‘Kakarot’ as Vegeta referred to him. He’d always wondered why 'Geets never referred to him as the name he was best known by. There had always been the allusion that the smaller man knew more about Goku’s past that he let on. Maybe Kakarot was his birth name. Goku had known he was adopted from very early on and didn’t really care. His happy-go-lucky attitude had gotten him out of some tough situations and thrown into others. All the while the man on the other side of the punching bag had been by his side, either fighting alongside him or punching Goku in the face.

Friendship was complicated.

After some pretty heavy sparring and about two hours later, Goku laid back on the mat and puffed out a breath of air, “I’m throwin’ in the towel. Chichi was already mad when I left. Any longer and I’m sure I’ll be in for it.” He raised his head, only to see Vegeta leaned back against the wall looking at the floor.

“Fine. Goodnight, Kakarot.”

Odd, Goku thought. No calling him weak for going home? “Hey man, whatever is-”

“Shut up.” Vegeta interrupted, crossing his arms, “just, don’t say anything. It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothin’,” Goku said, rolling onto his knees, “but, whatever is going on, you can figure it out, ya’ know? You’ve had worse.”

Vegeta snorted, but at least he was looking at him now, “You’re an optimistic fool.”

Chuckling, Goku rubbed the back of his neck and picked up his gym bag, “Well, better to be optimistic than sulk ya’ know? Sulking doesn’t get ya’ anything. It just makes ya’ feel worse. At least havin’ faith gives ya’ something to look forward too, instead of deciding you’ve already quit. And you’re not a quitter, 'Geets.”

“Pfft.” Shaking his head, Vegeta smirked, “Like I said, optimistic fool.”

The larger man shrugged, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, “Well, somethin’ has gotten’ ya’ this far hasn’t it? Anyways, see ya’ Tuesday?”

Vegeta nodded, picking up his cell phone from the top of his gym bag. After a few seconds of staring at it he grunted and put it back down. Goku smiled knowingly, “It’s that girl, isn’t it? The picture on your phone you’re always lookin’ at?”

“GOODNIGHT Kakarot.”

Goku chuckled, “Alright, alright. Night.” And with a wave over his shoulder, he exited though the gym doors into the evening air, leaving Vegeta perplexed as to how someone so spacey could leave him feeling more grounded than anyone.


The apartment was dead silent when he entered, the air smelling of the food Bulma had brought over from the restaurant. He’d forgotten about it, and it sat tepid and abandoned on the coffee table. Vegeta swallowed, then turned down the hallway towards his room. He didn’t want to deal with that tonight. Maybe in the morning.

Showering with the water as cold as possible distracted his mind, but that only lasted for as long as the shower did. The moment he stepped out, the heaviness settled back into his thoughts. Maybe sleep would help.

After laying awake and staring at the ceiling for half-an-hour, he realized that it would only be her that occupied his dreams that night. And that made him uncomfortable. What were his feelings for her? Bulma was very pretty, so there was that, obviously. And she was smart. And kind to him, as he was to her. The fact that he’d never once turned her away made him realize that he was far more attached to her than previously believed.

His phone was charging on the nightstand beside him. She hadn’t text him. Not once. The two would normally text until she fell asleep. It made him feel hollow inside without that contact.

Vegeta reached for the phone and sent a quick text:

“I can’t sleep.”

Quickly, he put the phone back on the nightstand, tucking his hands behind his head. Why was his heart racing?

A minute went by.

Then two.

Then five.

He picked his phone back up, then opened his messages. It said the text had been read.

But she hadn’t responded.

Vegeta’s gut churned. Bulma always responded to his texts. Why hadn’t she? Was she angry with him? She had every right to be if he was being honest with himself. What a selfish asshole he was. She’d thrown herself at him, and what did he do? Gawked at her like some clueless, love sick teenager-

Love sick.

Oh. Oh no.

Then the incoming text bubble appeared. Vegeta inhaled loudly, sitting straight up in bed, completely transfixed at the silly gray bubbles. She was responding. Everything would be alright.

Then it disappeared.

And he waited, the minutes ticking by.

The clock on his phone hit three Am. An hour had passed.

Vegeta settled back on his pillow, eyes growing heavy, still watching that text screen.

When the sun began rising he was fast asleep, phone held tightly against his chest, just in case it vibrated against him.


After @rutbisbe
Drew me that gorgeous Chiccolo picture, I asked her, “Is there a prompt that you want me to write?” All she asked for was another chapter of 'Denial,’ so here it is ❤️ Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me to keep up with this: @dulali @saiyanprincessbulma @vegetapsycho @froglady15 @thats-my-bulma @amazingmeplusone @icanthearyoumundane and so many others. And a special thanks to my gorgeous ladies @dragondancer28 and @itsmandymo for reading over this. I love you guys ❤️❤️❤️

  • SASSY???
  • Second: DAMN HE TALL
  • Third:


  • Fourth:



And last, but definitely not least:

we all know it’s ‘Mura’s birthday next week… maybe it’s finally… the time… that that happens??? or maybe it’s too soon? IDK