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#I know this is my fault for becoming so attached so quickly but it still sucks
s-soup111 · 2 months
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If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I would walk in my garden forever.
- Alfred Lord Tennyson
Paring: Jinshi x (f) reader
Genre: angst
Tags: Break ups, death.
A/n: I swear I don’t hate Maomao, she’s just a victim of hate in these ffs 😔
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He could spend years waiting for you, he really would, he’s probably still waiting for you now, even if he is delusional enough to think you’d love him back. It’s his fault he knows, “Please, please don’t leave me here alone!” Those were your last words he heard as he left you in his flower garden in the harsh coldness of winter. That was some time ago. You were attached to him; yet, not lovers, something he holds dearly to his heart but not something that is really his.
He knows himself, even in the warm and welcoming sun’s of summer, he still can’t seem to let you go. He’d had countless proposals, however none of them loved him as you did. “I miss you, do you miss me?” He laughs at himself, why would you miss him? After all, he did leave you with nothing but hate in his heart, or that’s what he tells himself. “Everything is temporary, this is merely one of those things.”
He becomes interested in the girl named Maomao, you watch from a distance, he smiles at her as he’s smiles at you once a season ago, perhaps you miss that, perhaps you did. Maybe you did feel jealous when he’d unconsciously touch her back as they’d walked down his flower garden together, the flower garden which you shared your first kisses.
It was indeed quite strange to see him act with her in such a familiar way, as if he’d been with her all his life instead of you. He’d hardly look at you when you walk past, maybe this was fate. You wasn’t sure yourself. “You deserve better than me.” Those were his words on that day. Unfortunately, you didn’t care, you didn’t care that he was only pretending; you didn’t care that you could do was blame yourself. You cared so much that you cried so much until your face dried.
“Did you even love me?”
He saves her, he saves her life instead of yours. Though, he watches you as you fall with no sort of emotion in his eyes, you stare at them back; full of betrayal and hate you saved up just for him. You live, you live knowing that he never did truly love you. He lives, he lives too knowing that you will never love him again as you had once before.
He faults once and once again, no longer can he read your face easily as he used to, he cannot find if you are happy or sad, angry or joyous; you walk normally but with nothing left inside of you, soon you will surpass the marriageable age and will be sold off to a man of high status, he feels uneasy at that thought. But he cannot bring himself to talk to you.
When you see him hold her hand, you break a sob. You cover it with your hand- he looks so happy, how dare he. Remain as composed as a lady should, that’s what you should remember. Never let a mere servant bring you to your knees. He hears you though. He knows it’s you and stiffens, Maomao asks him if he’s alright and offers him her arm but suddenly notices what’s wrong. She sees you from the corner of her vision, and quickly lets go of Jinshi and ushers off without a word.
He remains shaken as you walk up to him silently and with grace. He can feel you behind him. “Oh, my Lord, I didn’t know I would find you here on this fine day, what are you doing with that..girl?” You ask. He prays you don’t see him visibly shaking. “Are you alright, my Lord?”
He doesn’t know what to feel, is he alright? Surely he should be, after praying for your return..but something is stopping him from replying- a stone stuck in his throat, preventing him from speaking. “I love you, I love you so much and I hate it.”
He doesn’t know why he still holds onto you, no longer does he watch you from afar, but he does question himself sometimes, if he should’ve said it. He remembers your astonished expression, but still he couldn’t read what you were saying from your face. He looks at the stars with a pitiful gaze, how pathetic of him to feel this way. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle my heart myself,” he whispers to himself as the clouds form and rain fall, staining his robes.
He notices you some paces away, staring into nothing- towards the heavens. You look breathtaking. You were beautiful, not like those ladies in story books. You were beautiful for the way you thought, you were beautiful for the way your eyes once sparkled when you talked about something you loved. You were beautiful for the way you could make him smile even if you were dying just a little bit each time. No you wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as your looks, you were beautiful for something deep down in your heart.
You stood there in the rain, its coldness piercing your skin through your thin layers of silk. Jinshi runs towards you, you hardly notice him however. He breaks you so well, so easily as your love was and forever will. Easy to love yet just as easy to break. You can’t love him, you don’t know how to. Love is fleeting, just like birds. One second they’re there, another and they’re gone.
He notices the blood that spreads like wildfire from your chest as you pull out the knife.
“Your love was torture, and I loved it all too much.”
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hoasvuon · 9 months
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(2:21 AM)
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you had tried to reason with yeonjun for the past ten minutes, telling him that he didn't need to come over to take care of you, and that you'd be alright with just a bit of rest.
"baby i'm fine, i promise. it's just a little cold, i'll be alright", you insisted over the phone.
"yes you might be fine now, but what if you get worse in the middle of the night? i have to be there in case something happens!", yeonjun retorted back.
you sighed softly, knowing that he wouldn't listen to you, but you still felt guilty that he was also up so late worrying about you. after all, he had his own life, and coming over to take care of you so late in the morning wouldn't be good for either of you.
but no matter what you did you couldn't stop tossing around in bed. not only were you sick, but you didn't even have anybody to fuss over you. although that was mostly your own fault. after all, your loving boyfriend had asked if you needed anything to which you responded that you would be fine with a good nights' rest. 
looking at the clock, you sadly realized it already was 2:21 in the morning, hours past when you told yourself you would go to bed. you suddenly regretted your decision telling yeonjun not to come over. you decided that if you were going to be awake anyways, you might as well for yourself a glass of water from the kitchen, to help with the sore throat.
stumbling outside with your blanket wrapped tightly around your body, and your phone in your hand, you began making your way to the kitchen. you had barely made it to the kitchen counter before you noticed your phone light up with a text from your boyfriend.
i know you said that you would be ok on your own but I can't help but worry. do you want me to come over?
you thought about it for a second and decided that if there was going to be any day that you gave in to your desires, it would be today. uou quickly texted back that you wanted him to come over, and set your phone down on the counter.
looking at your phone, you saw that he had read the message immediately. however, that wasn't surprised you. suddenly, you heard the sound of your apartment door unlocking. 
turning around, you were met with the face of your boyfriend as he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist before nestling his head in the crook of your neck. 
"my babyy is sick. what do I do?" he mumbled, while rubbing up and down on your back.
laughing, you responded, "were you just waiting for me to text you that you could come?" before lightly tapping his head.
"no ... maybe ... yes" yeonjun said sheepishly, before his eyes caught your half finished cup of water on the counter.
"see ! look, you're drinking cold water, what if you got sick again? this is why i was worried. i have to be here to take care of you.” he said.
turning your body around, he began walking with you to your bedroom, though it was a bit of a struggle considering he was still attached to your back, like a koala. 
finally, the two of you made it to your bedroom where he laid you gently in bed before getting in himself. 
"no matter what I'll be here for you. so don't worry about me and just get better. I love you" he whispered gently in your ear, before wrapping his arm around your frame and pulling you in closer.
looking up at him as you were laying on his chest, you begin to notice more little things that made you fall in love with him along the way. The way his eyelashes fluttered as he closed his eyes, the rosy tint to his checks from having stood outside your apartment door waiting for you to text, the way his hair barely grazed his eyes as you reached up to brush it away. the way he subconsciously would pull you closer in your sleep, as if you would run away from him if he didn’t hold you tight enough. most of all, you noticed how calm your breathing had become, and how you fit perfectly in his arms.
maybe one day, you’d pluck up the courage to tell him exactly how much he means to you. but for now, all you want to worry about is getting better, as soon as possible, so you can pepper yeonjun in kisses as thanks for taking care of you and worrying about you. after all, it was 2:35 in the morning, and you thought to yourself that maybe being sick wasn’t so bad, especially when you had someone who loved you taking care of you.
author's note: hihi flowers i am also !! currently sick :( so i wrote this drabble just now in my sick, delirious state at 2 in the morning ,, how nice would it be to get cuddles and headpats while you're sick ? i'm simply self-indulgent i suppose ,,, ! this hasn't been edited/proofread, i'll get back to doing that at some point when i feel better ! <3 thank u for the support on my first post !!
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mysisters-bike · 7 months
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Eric Harris was not a psychopath.
I know, this is a controversial title. Allow me to explain. TL;DR SUMMARY AT END! And, before continuing, do not mistake my presentation for sympathy.
What inspired my professional research in the first place was the trope that Eric was a psychopath. This trope was, I believe, popularized by Dave Cullen's awful account of the events at Columbine. First of all, Dave Cullen is not a psychologist or mental health professional. Next, Dave Cullen's work has been referenced by professionals as if he were a psychologist.
You're probably wondering why some person posting on Tumblr feels more qualified to speak on this. My credentials: I am qualified to conduct research on humans, I have a BA in Psychology, and a Masters in Forensic Psychology. My chosen career path focuses on intervening on at-risk youth before they become school shooters. I chose to present my research in an accessible location and not hide it behind research journal pay walls.
The biggest takeaway I want you to get from this is that severe mental health diagnoses take away from the smaller warning signs we need to be paying attention to.
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So, what was Eric's "problem?" His behavior is rooted in poor childhood socialization. We know this already. Eric moved around a lot as a child. Throughout his crucial developmental years, the family moved three times: Kindergarten through second grade at 2 schools in Ohio, then to Oscoda, Michigan. In Sixth grade, and a portion of seventh, he was in Plattsburgh, New York. The remainder of his middle school and high school years were completed in Littleton, Colorado.
Eric's high mobility is an explanation for his poor social skills. A study conducted by Robert T. Webb, PhD, Carsten B. Pederson, DrMedSc, and Pearl L.H. Mok, PhD (2017) supports this theory. They conducted research on over 1 million children in Europe and analyzed the psychosocial affects of "moving around a lot" in childhood. This sort of scenario is commonly seen in children of military families; Eric's dad was active-duty Air Force and is the reason they moved so much.
This research found the children who moved around more were at higher risk for: attempted suicide, successful suicide, and deviant behaviors. Violent offending spiked in those who had more mobility in mid to early adolescence. The study reported even higher risk for those who saw multiple moves in the same year, which is something Eric also experienced.
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Barker and Berry (2009) found that children of active-duty military caregivers often experienced behavioral issues while their parent was deployed and excessively attached behavior when the parent returned. In a separate study conducted by Flake, Davis, Johnson, and Middleton (2009), children of deployed caregivers exceeded Pediatric Symptom Checklist (PSC) cut-off scores for high risk psychosocial morbidity. Meaning, these children had the highest possible likelihood for behavioral issues rooted in interpersonal starvation. This is a dangerous hot and cold game to play with adolescents that are still learning and understanding the meaning of attachment. 
Forming connections and then quickly abandoning them could understandably create an inability to form deep, personal attachments with others. When he did form these connections, perhaps he clutched them a little too closely. These relationships may have been highly volatile if Eric feared he may leave them and lose their connection, just as he had experienced so many times before. The slightest movement may have triggered an aggressive response out of fear. 
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Eric’s inability to keep and maintain a friend group wasn’t his fault – he did not learn how to properly socialize as a child. Sure, he was friendly and polite, but those are surface-level traits. After breaking the ice, friends of Eric began finding that he was pushy, controlling, and even a bit callous.
While Eric was noted as kind and polite, he was often regarded as shy as well. This shyness may have been influenced by trouble with low self-esteem. In a journal entry dated 11/12/1998, Harris wrote, “Everyone is always making fun of me because of how I look, how fucking weak I am and shit…” (Note: Eric's surgery for pectus excavatum as well as being bow-legged)
We’ve gently and briefly begun the exploration of Eric's childhood and understand the ways in which it could have affected him, behaviorally. The sad truth is, however, there just isn’t more data to help us understand the intricacies of his upbringing. I believe it is incorrect to say he wasn’t met with love by his family.
 I do believe, however, this was the case of a child who was gentle, sensitive, and whose personality required fragility and a compassionate parenting style. He was treated a bit more ruthlessly than he was able to withstand by being subjected to an authoritarian parenting style, which we will certainly unpack further in the coming research. I cannot imagine this was on purpose, but I do feel he was forced into being a tough, surface-level person that he was not capable of being. Truly, Eric was probably a very weak person. 
IN THE END, ERIC REQUIRED CONTROL IN HIS RELATIONSHIPS. Because of his constant social upheaval, Eric fucking hated not having control. This is a common pattern in attachment styles; avoidant, anxious, ambivalent, etc. We crave control because, for so long, our lives were unpredictable.
Okay, what about his inflated ego? Eric's sense of self was greatly inflated in private, but in public, he was quiet, shy, and relatively unlikeable. He equated himself to a god -- a god of what? He was a master of nothing in real life. Eric's insecurity led him down a path in which he privately lived out his fantasy of being better than those around him.
The most important thing that gets overlooked and nullifies the idea he was a psychopath was the fact that he did feel. Evidenced in his journal:
He expresses that he doesn't want blame to fall on his friends or family. He also writes that he has no self-esteem, he wishes he was accepted more, mourns his relationship with his Dad ("I had a lot of fun at that gun show, I would have loved it if you were there Dad. We would have done some major bonding. Would have been great. Oh well."), he's upset about not having friends ("I hate you people for leaving me out of so many fun things. And no don’t fucking say “well that’s your fault” because it isn’t, you people had my phone #, and I asked and all, but no. no no no don’t let the weird looking Eric KID come along, ooh fucking nooo."), and is self-conscious of how he behaves ("why the fuck can’t I get any? I mean, I’m nice and considerate and all that shit, but nooooo. I think I try too hard.")
Lastly, the infamous scene from the Basement Tapes in which Eric is crying and says a tearful goodbye to his friends that he wishes he could have said goodbye to. Read more here, page 8.
Eric's journals are filled with anger, hate, and deplorable language. But in my opinion, he does not bear the mark of a psychopath.
TL;DR
Moving around a lot interrupted Eric's ability to socialize in childhood
As a child, Eric was likely sensitive and required a gentle parenting style and was instead met with an authoritarian style that focuses on obedience rather than nurturing
Eric's own words demonstrated his ability to feel emotion, remorse, and self-consciousness.
Eric's "inflated ego" was a show he put on in private because he wasn't accepted by his peers; it was a defense mechanism to protect himself
Overlooking small behavioral patterns in favor of severe conclusions forces us to miss the warning signs after it's too late. It’s hard to hear, but sometimes it doesn’t take that much for people to do horrible things to one another. 
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Teasing
XxX
Warning(s): 141 Being unintentional bullies, Mention of burn scars from fire fighting, slight age gap
The One Where:
Pairing: Price x Fem!Reader
A/n: Reader is described as being small both in height and stature but has a past as a firefighter so they're super buff but its hidden under baggy clothes
W/c:
xXx
You grunt as you set your fellow solider down on the ground against the tire of the Humvee. You quickly take a small oxygen tank out of your bag attaching it to his face before grabbing a towel and your canteen of water wiping the ash and cynder off his face. You look back at the burning building you just pulled him out off.
"C'mon, lets get back to the safehouse" Blaze says helping you pick up the new team member and help him into the vehicle.
"Price, are you good to drive?" You ask. You look back seeing the Captain with a half assed bandage around his hand helping his own teammate stand up.
"Sparky help them I'll drive" Blaze says. You nod helping your teammate into the Humvee first before helping Ozone in.
"Get in" You told Price who nods as you climb into the Humvee after Ozone. You glance back at the burning building seeing whatever Shadows were still alive trying to get out as Blaze starts to drive off.
xxx
"You did good out there Sparky" Price says patting your back.
"I'm only as good as my mentor" You told him as you tended to the slice he had on his hand.
"I can't take all the credit, Blaze's known you longer" He said gesturing to your commander who was patching up one of your comrades. You smile shrugging as you caught Blaze's attention.
"Blaze, celebratory drinks after this right?" You asked.
"Of course, that's a stupid question" Blaze chuckles. You smile rolling your eyes as you finish bandaging up Price's hand.
"You're coming with us, no questions asked" You told him.
"Oh I shouldn't, I have my own task force I should get back to" Price said gesturing to the few Bravo Team members he has brought with him for this mission.
"Please, we never get to see eachother John, I'd really like to be able to hangout with you" You begged. John chuckles as he tries to ignore your puppy dog eyes.
"I guess I can go back tomorrow" He said making you cheer. "Ozone, Druid, Scarecrow, you guys can go ahead and head back to the command base, I'll be there tomorrow" Price said.
"You sure Cap?" Ozone asked.
"Yeah, let Ghost know he's in charge of Soap and Gaz though, I don't want 2 am calls of those two getting into petty fights in the commons" Price said making the three other soldiers chuckle as they grab their bags and left. Price smiles softly as he watches you start to take off your tactical gear. "You got out of there without a scratch" He notes.
"I was a fire fighter Price, I know how to dress for occasion and avoid injury, and we both know I'm good at my job" You smile taking your layers of masks and goggles off. When you roll up your sleeves though Price’s eyes move to the notable burn scar on your inner forearm, right over top where you used to have a tattoo. “Okay this was a rookie mistake and not my fault because the uniform Blaze gave me was too big and in the way” You say.
“Oh I believe you” Price chuckles.
“It was one time give me a break, we have the same scar anyways kid” Blaze says his sleeves already rolled up as he patched up his solider.
"I could use someone like you on my team, you know” Price says flexing his hand that you had just bandaged.
"Thanks John, that means a lot to me" You told him as you grabbed a wet wipe wiping your face from its greasepaint and cinder
"I'm serious darling, you know I only want the best of the best" He says.
"You are my best Y/n" Blaze comes up from behind you tossing an arm over your shoulder.
Blaze used to be your captain back when you were both firefighters, if anything he was the one that convinced you to join him in the military, becoming part of the SAS. From there during basic training he had introduced you to Price where you had immediately become attached to the older man.
"What are you trying to get at here?" You smiled looking up at the two older men.
"I'm asking you to join my task force Y/n" John chuckles.
"I'm giving him my blessing" Blaze adds.
"i- are you sure?" You ask taking a seat next to John.
"Sparks, you're my best soldier, and Price only wants the best of the best. As not only your commander, but you're friend, I really think you should do this" Blaze says arms crossed over his chest soft smile on his face.
"I would really mean alot to me if you joined us, be my second lieutenant" Price nudges you softly.
"Let me think about it John, and I'll get back to you," You smile softly resting your head on his shoulder.
xxx
"You better treat them right Price, because I will hunt you down if I need to" Blaze said.
"I know sir"
"Sparky, don't forget you always have a home here, and don't hesitate to let me know if the 141 is giving you a hard time because i will go up there and start handing out cans of ass-whooping" He says making you laugh. Blaze picks you up as he hugs you.
"Price, friendly reminder that I'm ranked higher than you and will kill you and your men if I need to, take care of my kid" Blaze threatens John one more time making you laugh.
"I'm just transferring team Blaze it's not like I'm getting married" You laugh teasingly shoving him away from you.
"Not yet my little Spark" Blaze says patting your head as if you're a child.
"Bye Blaze,” You say loudly at him grabbing John’s arm and dragging him away with your things. “Lets go before he embaresses me anymore" You whisper quietly to Price as you both head to his car. He laughs his hand on your lower back guiding you to his vehicle.
It took you one week to agree to join Price's team, it took less than 24 hours for the transfer to be complete due to Blaze having done all the paperwork for you ahead of time. Price took it upon himself to drive to you to pick you up and take you to the 141 command base. It was only a few hours distance but it still meant alot to you that he went through that effort.
Price set your bags in the back before opening the passenger door for you. He helps you climb into the truck before closing the door.
The ride was filled with mostly small talk, catching up on the few months the two of you had missed apart.
“What do you bring with you that you have so many bags?” Price asked glancing at the backseat.
“I live in the barracks John, I don’t have my own place” You reminded him.
“Still, I thought you were going to go out and look for a place last year?” He said.
“I thought about it but I spend so much time working it’s pretty much pointless, and you know my mother and sisters all pretty much disowned me when I decided to go into ‘a man’s career’ so there’s no point in finding a place close to home since there’s no one to go home to and I pretty much work 365 days a year” You said.
“Well that would explain how you managed to climb the ranks so fast Sparks, I’m proud of you, but I will say when I tell you to take a leave you’re taking it, I don’t care where you go but I want you to take a vacation” He orders making you laugh.
“I’ll only go if you do, seems fair” You tease making him chuckle. You head your arm rested on the center console and smile when John sets his arm next to yours, his pinky linked with yours making you smile down at them before looking out the window.
When the two of you arrived to the 141 Command Base there were a few soldiers outside waiting for Price. Your hand went to the handle to get out of the car until John stops you.
“Don’t you dare open that bloody door” Price scoffs at you making you laugh as you let go of the door handle. You smile as he gets out running around the front opening the door for you helping you out. The truck was fairly high off the ground and your civilian boots didn’t give you the height that your tactical boots did. You watched as the three soldiers that were waiting for Price were whispering to each-other as John helped grab your bags out of the back.
“Y/n these are a few of my men, Sergeants Kyle Garrick and John MacTavish better known as Gaz and Soap, and that is Lieutenant Ghost you’ll meet the rest of the team tomorrow morning along with some privates we’re training” John introduced.
“It’s great to meet you all I’m Lieutenant Y/n L/n but you can call me Sparky” You smiled kindly waving at the group of men who stared at you in shock. Before anyone could say anything Price had dragged you off to show you your room in the barracks.
“Oh they’re definitely shagging” Soap said.
“They have to be, I’ve never seen Price act like that towards anyone, not even his wife when they were still together” Gaz said before the two of them looked over at Ghost.
“I’m not agreeing with you,” Ghost says before he starts to walk off. “But I’m not disagreeing”
xxx
“Stop” You squeak as John laughs holding up a picture out of your reach. The picture was of your college graduation just a few years prior when you had gotten your PhD. John, Blaze, and a few of your friends had attended the ceremony but the picture that you chose to keep framed was of you standing standing with Price his arm around your waist while Blaze stood behind you both like a proud father.
While Blaze and Price weren’t far off in age with each-other Blaze was the protective older brother you always wanted. Price on the other hand, he made you happy.
“I’m just teasing Sparks here” Price chuckles handing you the picture, you flush as you set it down on your desk before taking out another picture setting it on your nightstand. John took a glance and the first picture was of your fire unit back home. He chuckles softly opening your bag of clothes putting them on hangers.
“You really love your teams don’t you?” He asked seeing you also had a picture of your former task force.
“Of course I do, I mean, back with the fire guys, Cap was the best father figure I ever had, and Blaze is like my older brother, they were my first family" You explained. John smiles softly to himself before closing your closet door and shoving the duffle bag under the bed with the rest.
"Well I hope you see the 141 as a family" John says as he sits down at your desk while you sat on the bed falling back.
"This bed is really comfy" You chuckle.
"I'm glad, now get some rest Sparks, I'll meet you down at the field in the morning" John patted your knee his hand lingering for a moment before he go up and left.
xxx
0500 sharp you were out of bed lacing up your boots and grabbing your PT jacket. You made it out to the field no later that 0510 waiting for the soldiers to all get there. You had gotten them all some protein bars and waters just incase along with Tylenol since Price had mentioned that they had recently come back from a mission a few days before you had gotten there and some of the soldiers were still sore.
“There she is, how’d you sleep Sparks” John asked walking up to you a few of his soldiers trailing behind him. You reached an arm up to him since you had been stretching on the ground. John pulled you up tossing an arm around your shoulders.
“Hey, I slept great my room here is so much better than the one I had back at my old base” You said.
“Probably because Price spent a week making changes to it” Gaz quietly whispered to Soap who nodded.
“So Sparky tell us about yourself, why that call sign?” Soap asked.
“I used to be a firefighter” You explained.
“Aren’t you too small to be a firefighter?” Soap teased. You inhaled sharply at the comment but decided to ignore it.
“Hey are those firefighter competitions real?” Gaz asked.
“Yeah, not every district participates on them though, but my Captain was very, exentric so in our case we never missed one” You explained causing both boys to share looks before they started laughing.
“Here’s the rest of the team Sparks” John changed the topic of conversation as he introduced you to the others.
Meeting the team wasn’t as exciting as you thought it would be. First of all, you were the only girl on the 141. Second of all, ontop of being the only girl, not everyone was open to obeying your orders, not when they had big bad Ghost to listen to. Third of all, the teasing, and it wasn’t as much teasing as it was back handed compliments and passive aggressive statements.
As the months passed with you being part of the team you thought things would progress, but it seemed as John was the only person on the team that respected you. But even he was blind to the way everyone treated you.
“You’re not as dumb as you look” Ghost says after you had offered an alternative plan to get out of the building unrecognized by the enemy soldiers.
“I like how you don’t care what people think of you, that’s a nice trait to have” Gaz says after you explained why you had met up with them at the bar looking the way you did.
“I never would’ve pegged you for for a fire fighter even less baseball team in High-school. My guess would’ve been choir or band kid, and I don’t maybe a teacher” Soap said still in disbelief that you used to be a firefighter and part of your high schools baseball team.
Ozone, Druid, and Scarecrow were really the only ones that treated you with the slightest bit of respect only because they worked with you on the field before and have followed your orders. But even they could be a bit insufferable at times.
“What’s going on between you and the Captain, are you two shagging?” Druid asked as he sat with you in the mess hall. You rolled your eyes getting up tossing your meal and heading to John’s office.
“Ya’know I think the only reason Sparky’s even with us is cause she’s sleeping with the Captain” Ozone told Scarecrow.
“You think? I mean she is pretty bad ass” Scarecrow said.
“Yeah but just look at how Cap treats her, he treats her so much more differently than the rest of us” Ozone said.
The straw that broke the camels back was on a mission. A bad one at that.
“Shit! Duck for cover!” John said grabbing you by your vest and pulling you towards him. Everyone nearby ducked as the building exploded and collapsed.
“Are you okay?” You asked him.
“Yeah you?” He asked. You nodded your head as you kept moving.
“We need to rendezvous John I don’t like it here” You told him.
“I know, but we need to catch him Sparks” John said. You nodded your head as you shot down a few soldiers that rounded the corner.
“Price we got a problem, bad one” Soap could be heard over the comms.
“What is it?” Price asked making you stop.
“We have our target, and by we I mean Gaz. He’s trapped inside the burning building with him” Soap says causing you and John to look at the building that was on fire and on the verge of collapsing.
“Sparks” John says. You sigh heavily dropping your head.
“Toad, Archer I’m gonna make a run for it, cover me” You ordered hearing both men reply with ‘Yes ma’am’
“With all due respect Sparky I don’t think you’re gonna be able to get them” Soap starts coughing clearly indicating he’s probably in the mess trying to help.
“I’ve got the target but I can’t find Gaz” Ghost says coughing over the comms.
“Both of you get out of there now, that’s an order” You tell over the comms.
“C’mon Sparks, can’t be too *cough* bad, we’ve done worse things before” Soap chuckles.
“God damnit Soap I’m your fucking Lieutenant so you follow my god damn orders, I want you out of there now, the same goes for Ghost” You yell. You stop in your tracks as you see a portion of the building start to collapse.
“Sparks we-”
“That’s an order Soap” Price cut him off.
Once you made it you spring into action. You take off your backpack grabbing your ropes attaching them to your waist, clipping your axe to your thigh. You take out a few oxygen tanks setting them up before placing your gas mask over your face and going in.
Soap is the first person you find since he was on his way out.
“Go, there’s an oxygen tank waiting for you outside” You told him. He nods as he makes his way out finding Price outside with Druid. Price immediately slaps the mask over his face turning on the tank.
“Ghost! Gaz!” You call out.
“Over ‘ere” Ghost coughs. He has the target who’s already passed out. You climb over some fallen beams getting to him.
“Can you walk?” You asked.
“Yeah” he says. You grab the target with ease tossing him over your shoulder. You grab the Axe breaking the beam you had jumped over after making sure it couldn’t cause anymore damage and help Ghost out of the building.
You set the target down on the ground grabbing an oxygen tank putting it over his face. Soap takes off his mask handing it to Ghost who slightly lifts his balaclava so he can breath.
“I found our target at the bottom of some broken stairs” Ghost says. You nod your head.
“I’m going back in” You said going into your backpack pulling out a fire hydrant.
“You go in missions with all this in your bag all the time?” Soap asked.
“I was a fire fighter for 8 years, I’ll be damned if I’m not prepared for something like this” you said.
“Y/n!” John calls out before you run back into the burning building.
“Yeah?”
“Please be safe” He begs. You simply nod your head running inside calling out for Gaz. After sweeping the downstairs you see a flight of stairs that have toppled over. You climb up the stairs using the rope for support making your way to the second floor.
“Gaz!” You yell finding him by the window passed out. You kneel at his side taking off your gas mask slipping it on over his face. Your break the window looking out. “I have him, I’m sending him down” You said causing the rest of the 141 to nod, the ones that hadn’t made it to the rendezvous point had met up there after reassuring they they had taken down the rest of the enemy soldiers.
“Sparky?” Gaz said as he slowly regained consciousness.
“I got you big guy” You said lifting him up as if he weighs nothing. You helped him out of the broken window and slowly lowered him to the ground. Right as you were about to untie the rope from yourself to go ahead and jump out since the height wasn’t that far, the floor below you breaks.
“Y/n!” You hear John scream. You scream as below you is a fire just inches away from you. You cough as you pull yourself upright looking at where th floor was once above you.
“I’m alright!” You yell out as you cough again. Looking around you you start to climb the rope. You find your axe and fire hydrant not too far away from the edge of the hole.
“Keep the rope attached to Gaz, it’s the only thing keeping her out of the fire” Price orders. They all nod as they start attending to Gaz.
“Captain, we have a problem” Soap says taking the gas mask off of Gaz, it was the same one you were wearing. He slips the oxygen mask over the soldiers face.
“That’s not our only issue” Ghost says looking up at the window we’re the glass shards still attached to the frame we’re cutting into the rope due to your movements on the other side.
“Y/n get out of there!” Price yells into the burning building. When you didn’t respond he starts to worry. “Bloody hell, give me that” Price says taking the gas mask from Soap. He goes into your backpack in hopes of finding something to help him save you but grunts when he comes up empty. Price throws all common sense out the window as he runs into the burning building.
“Sparks!” He yells. He hisses when he gets too close to a fire his arm getting slightly burned.
“John” You croak back. He looks over and last the burning flames seeing you hanging between the first and second floor, holding onto the rope and what’s left of the second floor for dear life.
“I got you Sparks don’t worry” John says as he starts making his way towards the stairs.
“No it’s too dangerous, get out” You shout back as your lungs start to fill up with smoke.
“I’m not leaving you here Sparks” John shouts back as he jumps over the hole on the stairs his foot briefly getting stuck after creating another hole. He quickly scrambled up the stairs as they collapsed behind him. Without thinking he runs over to you stopping when you shoo him away.
“The floor’s becoming fragile get out of here before we’re both stuck” You cough.
“Y/n your rope is about to snap and that floor is about as stable as Ghost’s mental health, I’m not leaving you here” Price says. He looks around the room before finding some books. “I’m going to try to hit the fire hydrant towards you, think you can grab it?” He asked. You nod your head adjusting your grip before reaching forward for the hydrant. Price slides the first book across the floor, missing the hydrant but hitting the axe. You watch as it misses you but falls into the fire below.
“Damnit John that was my good axe” You complain.
“Sorry darling, it was in the way” John says before sliding the second book. John almost cries when he hits the fire hydrant but instead of going towards you it falls to its side and starts to roll off the edge of the flooring. “Y/n!” he yells when you let go of the floor reaching for the hydrant. Your body drops causing the force of your weight to snap the rope. John runs to where you were holding onto the broken wall for support as he looks into the hole on the floor. You’re on the ground spraying the fire around you and yourself in the process due to your clothing starting to burn. John sighs in relief as he slowly jumps down the hole to the first floor.
“Are you okay?” He asked taking off the gas mask putting it on your face.
“Yeah” You say slowly getting up. You check yourself seeing that while you had a few burns in your clothes you were fine. You and John walk out of the building seeing the target was now awake along with Gaz.
“Let’s get going” Price says as you start to pack up your bag with the exception of the two oxygen tanks.
“You won’t leave” The target mumbles.
“I just saved your ass so shut the fuck up” You growl at him.
Before anything else could be said, you felt a jabbing pain right on your lower back. Making you double over in pain. Gaz and Soap both copy your movements as they both get shot as well.
“Sparks” John as he pulled you off the the side the rest of the task force doing the same.
“I got it, I got it” You said pulling out two hand guns and your goggles. The team watches as you step out from the hiding spot and start to shoot, you earn yourself another bullet which causes John to cringe as he grabs his rifle. He stands behind you taking out the last couple of guys.
You sigh heavily leaning back on him his arm going around your waist.
“Can we please get out of here before my adrenaline goes down” You sigh heavily.
It took nearly an hour to get to the RV point due to most of the task force member having injuries and trouble breathing.
When you all got there, the teasing began again and you were finally fed up.
“I refuse to believe little ole’ Sparky actually pulled you all out of a burning building”
“You’re so small, how the hell did you carry a man twice your size out of there”
“Got yourself shot twice In the process how the hell did you even do that”
“That’s enough!” Price barks at them. He looks over at you noticing your adrenaline hasn’t gone down yet, only being fueled by your annoyance and anger.
“There goes Captain again defending his girl” You hear one soldier whisper to another, low enough that Price doesn’t catch it. You finally snap as you stand up from leaning against the nearest wall walking up to the soldier that towered over you.
“So what?” You say catching him off guard.
“Come again ma’am?” The solider says suddenly nervous he’s being put on the spot.
“No no, don’t start with formalities go ahead, say what you’ve been saying for the past year I’ve been with you all. Think I don’t hear your taunts and whispers? Go ahead, say that I’m too small, or too inexperienced, I’ll never be as good a Lieutenant as Ghost, I’m not smart enough to be here, I’m not big and bad like the rest of you, I’m Captain Price’s little whore, his toy and the only reason I’m standing here right now is cause we’re fucking” You said finally confronting the entirety of the 141. The men all got silent causing you to bitterly chuckle. “Now you all want to be quiet, good to know the kind of men you all are” You say as you start to load into the trucks.
Price sighs heavily telling everyone to load up. He climbs into the back of one of the trucks seeing you tending to your wounds. He’s in shock on how your adrenaline still hasn’t worn down.
“Can I?” He asked reaching out for the tweezers. You sigh heavily handing them to him. Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Druid, and the target are all loaded in behind you. Your target has a bag over his head and you had tranquilized him.
You watch as Scarecrow and Ozone get in the driver and passenger seat the rest of the team loading up on the other trucks. Due to your years as a firefighter you also had medical experience so you slowly and quietly coach John through the proper treatment of a bullet hole so you wouldn’t take up space in the infirmary at base.
“How about your back?” John asked as he finished bandaging your shoulder to your liking.
You hold up the bullet you carved out of your vest, “Another one for the collection” You joke. John chuckles as he sits himself next to you a hand placed on your thigh. A silence with tension unknown to you and John was made. Soap was the one that decided to break it.
“We’re sorry Sparky” He said. You look over at him watching him take off the oxygen mask giving it to Gaz to put it to his face. From the corner of your eye you arch Ghost drop his balaclava slipping the oxygen mask over the targets face.
“Go on” You said your voice becoming cold.
“We didn’t realize a lot what we said was bothering you, I mean we’re so used to the task force being all men and usually we like to tease the newbies but I guess we forgot that you’re not new” Soap says.
“That’s a shit apology Soap, don’t make excuses, I should write you up for the shit you all pulled” John said his voice harsh with his soldiers.
“I think what Soap is trying to say is that we felt excluded. Obviously we’ve worked by Price’s side for years and he’s been an amazing leader and friend to us. Then suddenly when you come around it’s all about you. We all got in our heads and started believing the rumors going on about you two so we just subconsciously started trying to hurt you” Gaz says handing the oxygen mask back to Soap.
“I’m a soldier to him just like the rest of you, the only reason John and I have a closer connection is cause he’s been with me since I was in basic training. He and my former commander Blaze were the only people to show up to graduation due to my family pretty much disowning me when I chose more masculine line of career” You explain.
“I don’t think that’s what they mean Darling” John sighs heavily. You look at him confused as he leans over his face in his hands.
“You know when my wife and I split up I was a mess,” He started. “I had to take a months leave to get my shit together and darling, you had no reason to be there for me and help me but you told Blaze you’ll be damned if you let me fall into a pit of depression on my own” He said.
“Sparky we’re sorry about the rumors but there is a reason we thought you and the Captain were sleeping together” Ozone said from the front.
“Yeah he treated you differently than he treated the rest of us, but Sparky, the man looks at you and follows you around like a lovesick puppy” Gaz says.
“Okay that’s enough I think she gets it” Price says causing the other men to chuckle. You smile leaning forward taking John’s hat off running your hands through his hair.
“Fuck you, I owe Blaze 50 pounds” You giggle.
“Excuse me?” John says.
“Before I came here he had bet me 50 pounds that part of the reason you wanted me on the task force was because you have a crush on me” You smile
“He wasn’t entirely wrong, but you are amazing darling, I mean you just saved my best men from a burning building, and I guess that bloody asshole too” Price said gesturing to the target who had his head thrown back on the wall drool falling from his lips.
“Is he going to be okay?” Soap asked.
“I think I injected him with enough tranq to take out a full grown horse,” You said. “He’ll be okay, I’d say one day in the infirmary and he should be okay for interrogation” Ghost nods his head taking the oxygen mask dropping the bottom half of the bag before lifting his own mask to breath again.
“Back to the topic on hand, we’re sorry Sparky, and thank you so much for saving our arses even though we’ve been horrible to you since you got here” Soap says all eyes landing on Ghost who hadn’t spoken a word since you saved him.
But the silent nod he gave you was enough for you to smile and accept their apologies. You grab the first aid kit as you move over tending to Soap and Gaz’s wounds.
“You know there’s not much I can say about Ghost but I hope you all know I’m in charge of PT this weekend, and I am petty enough to hold grudges even though I forgive you all” You smile wickedly as you bandage up Gaz since he only got grazed by the bullet on his leg.
“Oh we doubt your training can be worse than Ghost, he’s ruthless” Soap says earning him a glare from you that made him shut up. As you finish patching him up you take your seat next to John again.
“Ghost I expect you to follow Lieutenant Spark’s training this weekend, and if I hear a single complaint from any of you you’ll be on cleaning duty for a month” Price orders. The sound of Ghost hitting his head against the wall of the vehicle was enough satisfaction for you. You rest your hand atop John’s that was on your thigh again. You side eye him with a smile on your face as you link your fingers with his.
“Darling” John whispered to you.
“Yes dear?” You smile cheekily causing John to chuckle and turn pink.
“Did any of my comments ever bother you?” He asked.
“John, you’re the only man on this earth that can tease me and won’t get their head blown off” You said.
“Tease you- you say” John smirks.
616 notes · View notes
bloodynereid · 3 days
Text
Those Sunlit Kisses
pairing: robert 'rosie' rosenthal x oc (lucy everett)
tw: mentions of war, alcohol drinking, death, mentions of nazis and hitler, domestic fluff, flirting, kissing, angsty ending-ish
description: a young man and woman meet while they're on a forced break and end up spending a weekend together.
a/n: so... this fic has sort of invaded my life these last few days and it's longer than i thought it would be (12k is insane). i've sort of become attached to it in a weird way ??? idk when you write something as a coping mechanism it sticks with you. i sort of have a plan for how this universe will work so there will probably be a few little fics that happen within it, look out for those! also this was lowkey inspired by before sunrise (haven't watched it but i've seen enough edits) and since we know real rosie fell in love and married his wife within like 3 days this is hopefully not all that ooc. ANYWAYS i hope you enjoy this and pls let me know your thoughts or if you want to send in any asks about lucy they are all welcome in my inbox! OH and this isn't about the real rosie, just the fictional character portrayed by nate mann (*swoon*). and to cut off this insanely long author's note, thank you for reading <333
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Rosie rested his head against the cool window, the train was hot. It was almost too hot. How Britain had turned from a pea soup to a tropical country is beyond him. He had been forced to take leave… again. So he booked a little place by the beach, far away from basically everything and he felt tentatively excited.
The thin pages of The Great Gatsby turned in his hands, it almost felt too sticky to read but he hadn’t brought anything else with him, and he didn’t feel content by just looking out of the window.
Rosie didn’t like to take breaks but he knew he needed one after the last mission. His new crew was almost too different. He never faulted anyone for not reuping but it was still strange. So after another successful ten missions he was sent off. At least he wasn’t sent to the Flak House again.
The train finally ambled to a stop and Rosie caught a glimpse of the town name, this was his stop. Quickly grabbing the sparse luggage he had brought with him, Rosie walked off the train and onto the tiny platform. The loud whistle made him jump as the train started to move away.
At least he was finally here.
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Lucy was daydreaming again. The taste of pencil filled her mouth as she nervously bit down on the wood. She was feeling better, better than she had in a while but she still felt like she was missing, well, everything.
She had just spent the past few weeks researching and slaving over an article on Hitler’s propaganda and it was a good article. Maybe even a great one, but the years spent working on articles about that vile monster were taking their toll on her.
Lucy could distinctly remember when her editor called her into his office after she had snapped at one of the top correspondents who made a comment about women belonging in the kitchen. 
“I can’t have this anymore. Do you understand what I’m risking by even having a woman on my team? You may be good, but you’re not that good. Now take a damn break before I have to bar you from this bloody office!” 
She understood that it was for her own good but his words stung. It irked her that a man was making her take a break when he would let any of her male counterparts strut around doing whatever they pleased and yelling at secretaries.
So Lucy booked a ticket and left on the afternoon train headed for her hometown. A place almost completely untouched by war… at least for now. She had spent the first few days in bed, trying to recover from the complete exhaustion that five years of war had wrought on her. Lucy also spent that time remembering.
Her parents had died a few months before Hitler invaded Poland. They passed away within weeks of each other in the same house that Lucy was in now. She was almost glad that they didn’t have to experience another war, even if she missed them more than she could handle sometimes.
Her father had risen through the ranks in the Great War, eventually becoming a Colonel and earning a few medals for his service. Lucy’s mother was a singer, she had met and fallen in love with John Everett during one of her performances when she caught his eye from across the room. Diana Everett always insisted it was love at first sight.
They were loving parents and did what they could to make Lucy’s childhood a happy one. Always aiding her in any of her hobbies, and allowing her to pursue her dream of becoming a journalist, even at a time when women were expected to go into gentler trades.
Lucy’s father was the one to die first, he had had a bad cough when Lucy first left for London and that quickly evolved into something worse. Lucy was able to make it back for the funeral and she spent the next few weeks watching as her mother became a shell of herself. One day she just found her mother lying in bed clutching a photo of her late husband and no longer breathing.
The doctors said she died of a heart attack but Lucy knew it was from a broken heart. The entire experience nearly shattered Lucy, she barely cried at either funeral and threw herself into her work, slowly getting more and more recognition for her radical articles informing the British people about the Nazis and Hitler.
But during those first few days at her childhood home, Lucy finally allowed herself to crack. She spent hours writing in her personal diary and crying more tears than she thought possible. Until Friday, when she finally made the decision to pull herself together, she still felt lost but at least she was writing something other than distressing poetry.
So now Lucy sat at her desk, the end of a pencil resting on her lips and the start of a rough outline of a story in front of her. It was a new day.
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The smell of the sea filled Rosie’s senses, it felt strange to be walking through a town that looked normal, with no gaping wounds left by bombings. It gave him a renewed sense of duty, places like this needed to be kept safe from the monsters.
He had rented a little room in a B&B ten minutes from the beach. It was nestled between two colorful houses, one painted light green and the other white with a wash of blue. He overheard the sounds of jazz echoing from the blue one, and the soft tones of a woman singing along.
Rosie’s face broke out into a smile and he started humming before looking back at the B&B and heading into the cozy atmosphere. An old woman with a cheerful smile greeted him and took one look at his uniform before upgrading him to one of the larger rooms. He thanked her profusely before heading up the creaking staircase and depositing his luggage onto the quilt-covered bed.
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After a few hours of work on the short story, Lucy needed a break and the outside was calling to her. Boiling some water in her favorite kettle, she put on a record and started to hum and eventually sing to one of her mum’s favorite songs.
Once the water was boiled, Lucy carefully went through the motions of pouring it over the Earl Gray leaves in the teapot and letting it steep for a while before straining it into a cup and pouring a splash of milk over it. All the while singing just like her mother used to do when she prepared tea for her.
Armed with a book and a steaming cup of tea, Lucy opened the front door of the house and sat on the porch swing. Carefully placing the cup on the side table and opening up the first pages of her book, Lucy looked around at the front garden. She could almost hear the sounds of joyful laughter and screams from her childhood when she used to play with the neighborhood kids on that very lawn. 
With her bare feet up on the porch swing and the milky goodness of tea in her mouth, Lucy started to read the first pages of The Great Gatsby, and settled in for a book she had been waiting too long to read.
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Rosie had changed into his civies before grabbing a spare towel and his book. He had to stop the owner for directions to the beach but other than that he was excited to see the ocean, and experience the sun for the first time in a long while.
As he headed down the street he was surprised to find a woman sitting on the porch of the blue house he had seen earlier. Her blonde hair was curled around her face and she was wearing an outfit similar to his own - a blue button down shirt and loose black pants. In her hands was a copy of a book that was identical to one he held in his hand.
All Rosie could think about was that she was beautiful. He was openly gaping in the middle of a sidewalk because a woman he didn’t even know had completely enraptured him. Shaking himself out of his reverie after he realized just how long he had been staring at her, he was almost tempted to say something, anything. Just to have her look at him.
He just couldn’t get his mouth to form the words. Rosie had always been a shy person, especially as a kid but it seemed like all those years of shyness were finally catching up to him. So instead of saying anything, Rosie just turned and walked over to the beach. His knuckles clenched around his own copy of The Great Gatsby, imagining the ways that he could approach the beautiful woman of the blue house and how the conversation would go.
Maybe he could ask her about the book, or the music streaming out of her window. Maybe he could ask her out to dinner or… suddenly Rosie’s thought process stopped short when he had the awful realization that the woman could be married. He hadn’t even realized he had made it to the beach when the sand crunched under foot and he was thrown off balance. Taking a few moments to steady himself he walked along until he found a sand dune that looked nice enough. All the while thinking of all the ways the blonde beauty could reject him.
Rosie had now convinced himself it would be the worst idea on Earth to even approach her, so he settled onto his blanket and cracked open his book. Allowing for the sun to finally seep into his pores and getting lost in the pages of Gatsby’s own romantic woes.
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After all the tea was drunk and Lucy had gotten through quite a bit of The Great Gatsby, she decided to get back to writing. Instead of going inside Lucy quickly grabbed a picnic blanket and spread it out in the front lawn. The outline for her short story was coming along nicely and she needed sun after spending the last five years under a constant cover of smog and rain in London. 
She also managed to make a couple of sandwiches to serve as her lunch and spread herself out onto the soft fabric of the blanket. Squinting her eyes in the sun she started to elaborate a bit more on the brother in her story, ruminating about how she would have loved to have siblings.
Once she had completed half of the outline, Lucy’s eyes travelled from the cream page to the sidewalk, where a few mothers were milling around with their children. Pushing them in prams or trying to balance picnic baskets and food as the kids ran circles around them. A warm smile spread itself across Lucy’s face, this town was like her little corner of heaven.
It was mid afternoon when she first spotted him, Lucy had abandoned her writing a while ago in favor of people watching and basking in the rays of sun. She could have gone to the beach, but she couldn’t be bothered to move from her lawn where the sun was hitting just right.
The man looked about her age, he was wearing civilian clothes but he had an air about him that made Lucy think he was at least part of some branch of the military. He had dark curly hair and a mustache and he looked like an angel sent down from heaven. In his hand, Lucy spied a copy of the very book sitting next to her and a towel covered in sand. He must have been at the beach.
Lucy knew she was blatantly staring but he was just so pretty. She was used to the men that made up her London office, balding and sexist, who flirted with her like she was an object to be used. So whenever she ventured out into the real world Lucy was basically set in a tailspin by the array of people that interested her, and for some reason this strange man made her heart skip a beat.
Almost like she had wished it to happen, the man caught her stare and smiled shyly. Bringing up his free hand in an awkward wave. Cute. In return, Lucy beamed at him and waved back, before quickly grabbing her copy of The Great Gatsby and lifting it up.
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Rosie headed back from the beach feeling renewed, and he was also hopeful that he might get another glance at the beautiful blonde from the blue house. Ever lost in his thoughts, Rosie didn’t even realize he was on the sidewalk that led to his B&B until he caught the glance of the woman from the porch… except this time she was lying on a blanket in the middle of the yard. 
He smiled at her when he realized she was staring at him, at him! Then he did the stupidest thing he could think of and waved. Rosie started to berate himself for how idiotic he was being when the blonde waved back and smiled at him with a smile that had his breath catching.
A moment later she held up her book, a copy of which he was also carrying, and he smiled even more broadly.
“Good book?” She called out to him with a voice that reminded him of the movies. A crisp British accent laced with laughter.
“It sure is.” Rosie answered, almost feeling slightly ashamed of his American accent which sounded so much more grating in comparison to hers. 
“I’m Lucy!” The woman said, standing up and brushing herself off as she walked over to the whitewashed fence so she was now only a meter away from Rosie. How he wished she was even closer.
“I’m Rosie.”
“Ah, an American. I knew it!” Rosie blushed and ducked his head in embarrassment. “Hey! I never said it was a bad thing. It’s nice to meet you, Rosie. You have a pretty accent.”
“I think that’s the first time one of you Brits has ever said that to me.”
“We haven’t been very welcoming, have we? Well that must be remedied instantly! How have you been enjoying good ol’ Britain?” Rosie felt like he was watching a band play the most incredible set, Lucy talked like she could charm the entire air force in just seconds.
“First time I’ve seen the sun in years.” Rosie said, exaggerating the comment by squinting at her, making Lucy laugh - the sound making a blush spread across Rosie’s face, he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life. 
“You and me both. I like to think of it as one of Britain's charms but it does get rather melancholic, don’t you think? Where are you usually stationed, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Thorpe Abbotts, I’m one of the pilots.”
“A fighter pilot?”
“Oh dear God no. I pilot B-17s.”
“Ah the big birds, that suits you better I would say.” Rosie inclined his head in agreement which had Lucy smiling at him. 
“I’m a war correspondent - although I haven’t been on the front lines quite yet. My editor still has rather old-fashioned beliefs about women and war.” Lucy’s eyes dimmed at the last part which had Rosie wincing.
“They should feel lucky to have you, not the other way around.” Blush covered Lucy’s cheeks at his statement and Rosie felt himself smile triumphantly.
“Oh you charmer. Would you like to come in for some tea or water, maybe?”
“That would be wonderful.”
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Lucy felt a certain giddiness encasing her body, she never did this. She never invited strange men, albeit handsome strange men, into her home and yet she was doing this. At least he didn’t seem like an axe murderer, and he was an American! Mostly she was just trying to overcome the nerves of having someone she actually liked showing interest in her.
Rosie quickly followed her into the house, helping her carry the picnic blanket she had been using as well as all her writing materials. So he truly was a gentleman after all.
The record had stopped spinning a while ago so when Lucy saw Rosie eying the player she quickly took the blanket and papers out of his hands.
“Why don’t you put on some music? I need to put these things away anyways.”
“Are you sure?”
“Go right ahead.” Rosie smiled gratefully and walked over to the record player, Lucy watched him flick through the various options and let herself smile. She needed some good in her life, she was going to let herself have this, even if it’s only for a few hours.
Turning around, Lucy folded the blanket and set it on one of the wooden chairs by the door, placing the book on top of it before bounding over to the study and placing the sheets of paper into a neat pile next to the typewriter. The sounds of Artie Shaw suddenly filled the atmosphere and Lucy quickly walked back over to the living room, making the creaks of the wooden floor boards alert her presence.
Lucy found Rosie staring out of the window and tapping on the frame in time with the music. He looked completely lost in thought that Lucy almost felt bad disturbing him.
“Rosie?”
“Hmm?”
“Water?”
��I would love some.” Rosie said as he turned from the window and smiled at Lucy, her nerves of bothering him dissipating in an instant when he set his gray eyes on hers. “Do you need any help getting it?”
“No, just keep choosing good music and we should be fine.” Lucy turned to get to the kitchen and grabbed a few glasses as Rosie trailed in behind her. Leaning against the door frame as he watched her move around the kitchen. 
“You have a great collection.”
“That would be my parents’ accomplishment. They drilled good music taste into me.” Lucy said with a sad smile on her face as she poured out some water from one of the pitchers.
“My mom was the same way. The one problem is that I am in no way musically inclined, I just know what sounds good.”
“Have you tried to sing?” Lucy asked with a teasing smile as she passed him the glass.
“Oh I have, you do not want to be there when that happens.”
“How bad?”
“Horrifying. I sound like a dying goat.” They both burst out laughing and Lucy felt a warm feeling spread through her limbs, it almost felt like she was being doused in joy.
“I cannot wait for the day when I hear you sing.”
“Why? So you can ridicule me? That will not be happening in a million years, ma’am.”
“I would never ridicule you! How can you think so lowly of me?”
“I barely even know you-”
“Exactly.” Lucy interrupted with a serious look on her face that had Rosie chuckling again. They quieted down into a comfortable silence as they each took little sips of water every now and then, just watching the way the other person reacted.
“How are you liking the book?” Rosie finally asked.
“I’m enjoying it, it isn’t the kind of book I usually pick up but it’s a nice reminder of a time when war wasn’t a part of daily life. I do have to say though, you Americans are quite strange.”
“I feel like I should rebuke that but it’s the truth. Doesn’t it almost feel like the book was set in a completely different world?”
“Yes!” Lucy fervently agreed as they started to drift back towards the living room, settling into the worn couch.
Over the next few hours, Lucy and Rosie inched closer and closer together on the couch. They talked about everything under the sun; their lives, their favorite books, pictures, music, war and their lives before it all. Lucy let Rosie take charge of the music and their conversation was soundtracked by various jazz hits and whatever obscure artist Rosie seemed to find fascinating in her collection.
Eventually the conversation turned to family and Lucy avidly started to talk about her parents, a subject which she almost never discussed with anyone she had just met.
“So yeah my mum met my dad at one of the pubs she was performing at and the rest is history.”
“Well now I have to get you to sing, it must run in the family! And it’s only fair.”
“Hey! That was a joke.” Lucy screeched, she never liked singing in front of other people she preferred doing it in the comfort of her own home and doing it alone.
“Aha so you do admit you were trying to ridicule me!” Rosie said triumphantly as he pointed at Lucy, making her face twist in complete disbelief.
“That is what you got from that?”
“Well it’s the truth isn’t it?”
“It is not! And I will not sing for you.”
“One day you will.”
“Will not.”
“Will.”
“You stupid, stubborn man.” Lucy said poking at Rosie’s shoulder, making him devolve into hysterics which had Lucy smiling stupidly at the man in front of her. The butterflies in her stomach hadn’t really gone away the entire time she had been talking to him, they had somehow managed to get worse.
That was when she realized how late it had gotten, the sun was just beginning to set and the living room was set alight with the glowing colors of the sky.
“Oh dear, I have kept you too late. You don’t have somewhere to be, do you?” Lucy asked nervously, once Rosie had started to calm down.
“No, no, not at all. I didn’t have much time to make any plans before I came here.”
“Well in that case how would you like to have dinner with me?” Lucy didn’t show it but she was practically buzzing with nerves - hoping and praying that he would say yes.
“Are you kidding?” Rosie was looking at Lucy with a completely gobsmacked expression on his face that had Lucy wondering if he truly thought she was messing with him.
“Not at all.”
“Well, in that case, I would love to have dinner with you.”
“Uh- wonderful. I haven’t cooked anything so you wouldn’t mind going out, do you?”
“Of course not, it would be a good opportunity to explore the town.”
“I’ll just grab my coat and we can go?” Lucy asked tentatively and Rosie nodded before settling back into the couch. Lucy yelled out a quick ‘I’ll be right back’ and disappeared into the hallways of the house.
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Rosie felt like he was in paradise. Who would have known that going on mandatory leave would get him this? He wasn’t sure he had ever bonded with someone as quickly as he had bonded with Lucy. It was as if they were twin souls, linked so that it was inevitable that they would meet at one point or another.
The light in the living room changed as the sun started to set, it played with the shadows on the walls and highlighted the framed photographs and art which told a story of a happy childhood and a happy family. It reminded him of his own childhood home. Rosie hadn’t even realized how much he had missed laughing. Something that suddenly just became so easy around Lucy.
Rosie had to give it to his self-restraint, he somehow managed not to kiss Lucy even though many a time in the past few hours he fantasized of brushing his hands through her blonde curls and kissing her like his life depended on it.
“Rosie? Do you want me to find you a coat?” A muffled yell was heard from somewhere upstairs which had him looking up towards the ceiling.
“No, I think I should be fine!” Rosie yelled back.
“Are you sure? I can probably find something that fits you.”
“I’m sure it’s not that cold, Lucy.”
“Okay! Don’t go around blaming me when you’re freezing to death.”
Shaking his head in mock resolution and quietly chuckling, Rosie stood up from his place on the green couch and went to pick up his copy of The Great Gatsby and the towel he had brought with him all those hours ago. But he stopped short when he saw Lucy’s own copy haphazardly strewn on one of the wooden chairs that seemed to be scattered throughout the house. With a sly smile, Rosie left the book and walked towards the front door, empty handed.
“Hi! Sorry that took so long. My hair was a mess, are you ready?” Lucy quickly said as she basically ran down the stairs, a motion that had Rosie’s hair raising in alarm - worried that she would somehow trip and fall to a quick death.
“You’re going to crack your head open one of these days if you keep going down stairs that quickly.” Rosie said when she finally reached the bottom and went to grab her purse from the side table.
“I know those stairs like the back of my hand, Rosie. If I ever trip and fall I’m blaming your handsome face.” Rosie made an expression of mock horror, but inside he felt like a stupid teenager.
“I’m offended by such an allegation. It would be your fault for getting distracted.” Lucy hummed back in mock reply before opening the door and walking out into the brisk night air, which had Rosie quickly following after her.
“Milady.” Rosie said, as he offered his arm to Lucy once she had shut and locked the door. Lucy beamed at him before slipping her arm around his, physically linking them together.
“Alright, I know this little Italian place that a friend’s family owns. How does that sound?”
“Perfect. I’ve been eating army rations for the past few years, anything that isn’t that sounds incredible.”
The pair roamed through the cobbled streets, in search of the little alleyway that housed the restaurant and basking in each other’s presence. When they finally arrived at the quaint little restaurant, Rosie was surprised to see that there were various other couples seated and eating Italian dishes.
“Lucy! You didn’t tell us you were back in town.” Said a voice from behind the counter, it belonged to a tall, brunette woman whose hair was tied back into an elaborate bun. 
“Hi, Renata! Yeah, sorry, this was a last minute thing. How have you been?”
“Good, good. Now who is this handsome man?”
“Major Rosenthal, ma’am.”
“How did you bag this one, Lucy?” The brunette asked, making a blush creep up over both of Lucy and Rosie’s faces. 
“Renata…”
“Fine! I won’t ask anymore questions. A table for two, I presume? We have a nice one close to the back.”
“That sounds great.”
Rosie spent the next hour eating the best spaghetti he had ever eaten and staring at the woman he seemed to be quickly falling in love with. They seemed to never run out of topics of conversation, cycling through enough to fill an entire encyclopedia. Rosie learnt a lot more about the British news field than he had ever thought was possible and in turn Lucy seemed enraptured whenever he talked about flying.
They stayed until it was almost closing time,when Renata basically pushed them out and gave them a complimentary bottle of wine, which had Lucy blushing in embarrassment and Rosie laughing. Somehow the night air was still warm, even though the sun had long set and the world had started to fall asleep.
“I’m glad I met you Rosie.” Lucy finally ventured, after they had been walking for a while in complete silence. Just letting the energy of the day seep in.
“Me too. I never in a million years would have thought I would meet someone like you.”
“You really do have a way with words, Major. Have you ever thought of becoming a poet?”
“I will leave all the writing to you, sweetheart.”
“This is it.” Lucy muttered once they had arrived back at the blue house at the end of the street.
“And that would be me.” Rosie said, pointing at the B&B next to the house.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“You can bet on it, Lucy.”
“Great.” Lucy whispered the first word as Rosie started to move closer and closer to her. He felt a wave of dizziness hit him, but he carefully placed both of his hands on her cheeks and stroked the soft skin.
“I’m really glad I met you too, Lucy.” Rosie muttered before surging forward and finally doing what he had been meaning to do for the past few hours. He kissed her with such intensity that it caught Lucy off guard. She stood still for a few moments before kissing him back with the same intensity and love that he was emphasizing in that kiss.
Lucy tangled her hands in his brown curls and felt the world just go still. For the first time in a long while. They stayed like that, kissing and holding each other until they heard the distant sounds of a baby crying.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Rosie asked once they broke apart.
“I’ll be waiting.”
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Lucy basically screeched in happiness once she had shut the door behind her. She finally understood what her mum was talking about when she talked about love at first sight. Rosie was her dream man, someone she didn’t even realize she had been looking for.
After carefully putting everything away and changing into her nightgown, Lucy settled into the comfort of her own bed and started to write lines upon lines about Rosie. She had filled up nearly two pages of her diary when her eyelids began to droop. It was almost midnight and she needed to be refreshed for tomorrow so she quickly signed off and pulled the covers over her body - allowing for sleep to pull her into its warm embrace.
The morning sun streamed through her window and softly woke Lucy up. Her relaxed joints groaned as she stretched and enjoyed the feeling of summer and sleep on her skin. Yesterday morning seemed like a distant memory. The darkness that usually invaded her waking hours felt almost less. Lucy had an excited thrill running through her body as she stretched.
Urging herself out of bed, Lucy slipped a robe over her nightgown and tied the sashes together loosely. The stairs creaked as her socked feet went down them and she was reminded of Rosie and his little comment about being careful. It was almost like this house was being reawakened with memories of the living, instead of being haunted by the ghosts of the past.
Once she arrived at the kitchen, Lucy started to go through her morning motions. Brewing a cup of Earl Gray tea, toasting some bread and starting to fry up some eggs. She was in the middle of beating the eggs together when a loud knock echoed through the house.
“There is no way that could be Rosie… could it?” Lucy wondered aloud, as she dried her hands on a tea towel and headed to answer the door. She turned the handle and pulled the door open to find that it was indeed Rosie. He was standing on the porch in civilian clothes again, his hair seemed a little less ordered than it was the day before and the morning sun was carefully lighting his face.
Lucy’s face broke out into a smile and Rosie returned it, before he carefully scanned her up and down and realized she was still in her nightgown. It was a long lacy and cotton thing that was only slightly covered by her robe. A light blush dusted his cheeks as he tried to focus on her face.
“Good morning. I hope I’m not disturbing…”
“Not all! Come, come. I’m just making breakfast.” Lucy stepped from out of the door frame, allowing for Rosie to walk into the house. She smiled and tried to contain her excitement as she focused on closing the door.
“Have you had anything to eat yet?” Lucy asked once she turned around and saw that Rosie was looking at her, he had a twinkle in his eye that wasn’t there a moment before and it made a surge of electricity run up her spine.
“I had some things at the B&B.”
“Alright, can I interest you in a cup of tea then?” 
“Actually…” Rosie took a step closer to Lucy, making her raise her eyebrows in question. “I think I would like to do this first.”
Rosie pushed a stray curl away from her face and tucked it behind her ear before gently pressing his lips to hers. Lucy’s eyelids fell shut and she threw her arms around his neck, allowing herself to be swept away by the sensation. Once they drew apart, Lucy scrunched her nose up and looked at the handsome man in front of her.
“Well aren’t you presumptuous? Coming all the way here in the early morning just to kiss me.”
“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I met you, I think it was warranted.” Rosie said with a shrug as he looked at Lucy adoringly, stroking his knuckles against the apple of her cheek.
“Flirt.”
“You love it.”
“I’m not gracing that with a response, now come. I don’t want my tea to get cold.” Lucy entwined her hand with his and started to pull Rosie in the direction of the kitchen, he was all too happy to follow her command.
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Rosie watched from one of the wooden chairs as Lucy busied herself with making breakfast. She was as graceful as a dancer, she seemed to have the routine nailed down to a ‘T’.
“Here.” Lucy said, as she carefully placed a cup of steaming hot tea in front of Rosie. “Let me know what you think.”
Rosie gingerly rose the mug to his lips and blew on the milky liquid. It smelled incredible, he usually just drank the weak coffee at base but this smelt like something out of a bakery. Then he took a sip and instead of tasting something incredible, it almost tasted flat. In an effort to not disappoint the woman in front of him, Rosie forced a smile and fake hummed in delight.
“You hate it.” Lucy said with a laugh, which instantly had Rosie’s façade falling and he too was laughing.
“I’m an American, what can I say?”
“I’ll excuse it. Here I just finished mine so I can drink the rest. No need for it to go to waste.” Lucy placed her hands over his and Rosie felt the familiar spark in his body that was elicited by being able to touch her. His beautiful Lucy.
“I’m sorry.” Rosie said once Lucy started to take moderated sips of the beverage.
“Don’t apologize, I, for one, hate the taste of coffee so I think we can move on from this.” Rosie’s face turned scandalized for a moment but he quickly schooled his expression and nodded seriously, making Lucy snort and continue drinking her tea before turning to stir the eggs in the frying pan.
“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”
“Yes. Mrs. Sloane gave me plenty.” Rosie distinctly remembered the large feast the owner had prepared, it was almost too much to handle but she had been intent on doing it so he didn’t stop her.
“She’s wonderful, isn’t she? She used to babysit me when I was younger. I was supposedly a very difficult child.” Lucy muttered as she plated her breakfast and sat across from Rosie at the breakfast table.
“I don’t believe that, you seem like an angel.”
“Oh no I was very much a devil child. The amount of times I was lost in the sand dunes is beyond count.” Rosie guffawed and watched Lucy as she scooped up pieces of scrambled eggs with her unbuttered toast.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did, you?” Lucy asked, after taking a few bites of her toast. Rosie nodded and stretched over the table to tuck an errant curl behind her ear, seeing as a light blush covered Lucy’s face.
“Do you have any plans for today?”
“Nope. I was going to write but I think there is something else I would much rather be doing.”
“And what would that be?” Rosie asked with a smirk starting to spread across his face, he liked getting to tease her. To see what he could say to get Lucy all flustered.
“You’re really going to make me say it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Fine, Major. I want to spend it with you.” Lucy said quickly, relenting under Rosie’s teasing glare.
“Good, because I have no plans.”
“Great.” Lucy nodded resolutely and then stood up to put the dishes in the sink. Rosie watched her as the fabric of her robe swayed around her. He stood up from his seat and walked up behind her, carefully placing his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her head.
“Hello there?”
“You look beautiful.”
“Do I?”
“Hmmm.”
“Rosie, I need to wash the dishes.”
“Just stay with me for a moment, then you can wash the dishes.” Lucy turned around so Rosie was staring into those deep brown eyes he loved.
“What are we doing, Rosie?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean with us. I’m assuming you will have to leave soon and I have to get back to London. I want this to be good but I can’t- I don’t deal well with loss, Rosie.” Lucy muttered, making Rosie’s heart almost break in half. He stood slightly speechless for a few moments as Lucy took to rearranging his hair. Rosie hadn’t even realized that this would all end soon. He didn’t realize he would have to leave her so soon.
“We’ll write and I promise I will do everything in my power to keep coming back. I want whatever this is, Lucy. Darling, I haven’t felt like this ever. I don’t want to lose you, even if I have just met you.”
“So we do this. We promise we will come back to each other.”
“Yes. And I get to call you mine.”
“Rosie, I- alright. Let’s do this. I’m in.”
“Good, because I was all in the moment I saw that beautiful face from across the lawn.” Lucy giggled and suddenly rested her head against his chest. Rosie was sure she could feel the thudding of his heart, so he wrapped her up in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Lucy’s arms circled his middle and they stayed like that for a few long moments.
“What do you want to do today?” Rosie heard Lucy mutter against the fabric of his shirt, her hot breath making shivers run up his spine.
“Whatever you would like.”
“Does a picnic sound nice?”
“That sounds lovely.” Lucy started to unwind her arms and Rosie already started to miss the weight of her against him.
“I would need to get changed.” Rosie watched Lucy motioned at her clothes and smiled at the devastated expression on his face.
“Do you really?”
“Yes, you menace!” Rosie laughed at the scandalized expression on Lucy’s face.
“Fine, fine. I’ll start on the dishes.”
“Rosie… you don’t have to.”
“I want to. Now shoo, before I don’t let you get dressed.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Watch me.” Rosie said, ducking his head so he was looking at Lucy through his eyebrows. She just rolled her eyes and pulled herself away from his arms, but not before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Rosie smiled as he watched her walk away from him, he knew he was beyond smitten.
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Lucy was desperately searching for something to wear when the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filtered in from downstairs. Rosie had put on music, and she could distantly hear him humming to himself over the rush of water.
Staring at the closer, Lucy realized that all her clothes suddenly seemed too ugly to work, she wanted to dress up enough that she looked nice but also didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. Why is this so complicated?
Huffing, Lucy finally pulled out a dark pink dress she hadn’t worn since before the war. It was made of cotton and she knew it looked good on her… five years ago. There was no fault in trying it on so Lucy quickly changed out of her nightgown and buttoned up the cotton dress up. Fluffing up her curls, Lucy carefully folded the strewn clothes and arranged the closet.
She knew she was probably just trying to procrastinate going downstairs when Lucy started to smooth out the fabric of her dress for the fifth time.
“Deep breaths. It will be fine.” Lucy firmly nodded in resolution before opening the door of her bedroom and walking out.
Rosie was finishing drying the dishes when Lucy walked in, she watched as he stared out of the kitchen window absentmindedly humming to the music and drying one of the mugs.
“How do sandwiches sound?” Lucy finally asked as she pulled the old fridge door open, trying to find if she had enough things to make a suitable lunch.
“That sounds great. You don’t mind that I used the record player?”
“Darling, you are free to use that whenever you please.” Lucy reassured him as she emerged from the fridge holding a parcel of cheese and various pieces of produce. Her heart seemed to stop when she saw how he was looking at her. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“No really, why are you staring at me like that?”
“You look like a vision.” Lucy ducked her head to stop Rosie from seeing her cheeks flaming bright red.
“Thank you.” Lucy placed the food on the cutting board and started to cut up the cheese into slices to go on the bread.
“You don’t take compliments well, do you?”
“I’m British, what do you expect?” Lucy said as she looked at Rosie over her shoulder, repeating the same words he had said to her. He had finished drying the dishes a while ago and now he was leaning on the counter with his arms crossed. The morning sun hit his face just right and Lucy was wondering how he had become a pilot when he clearly could have been put into major motion pictures. 
Lucy turned back to the task at hand with a smile on her face, the song on the record player suddenly changed and Lucy started to hum in tune with the music.
She quickly finished making the sandwiches and ordered Rosie to try and find the basket that she had stowed away in the hall closet. When he returned, Rosie was also carrying the picnic blanket from the day before.
“Thought we might need this.”
“Perfect, you can set it- uh Rosie?” Lucy found herself being spun around and into Rosie’s arms. They were swaying in time with the music and she found herself looking at the man in front of her with a questioning look in her eyes.
“This song can’t not be danced to. And you look too beautiful for me not to take this opportunity.” Rosie said as he brought Lucy closer to him, leaning his forehead against hers.
“You need to stop that.”
“What? Saying the truth?”
“Rosie…”
“Nope, not taking requests. You’re stuck with me.”
“Oh God.” Lucy groaned in mock anguish and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling as he tightened his hold on her.
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Once everything was packed and ready, Rosie found himself carrying the picnic basket in one hand and holding Lucy’s hand in the other. She truly looked like some kind of angel sent from heaven. Her blonde curls bounced as she walked and excitedly explained random bits of history or childhood stories about different areas of the town.
Supposedly they were on the way to one of the little alcoves that was the perfect picnic spot according to Lucy, but Rosie just felt happy to be around her. He still didn’t truly understand how exactly he had found Lucy. He could clearly imagine what would have happened if he never took leave, he would be going up again and would have never known about the blonde spitfire who hated compliments and lived in a blue house by the beach.
God, he can almost picture Crosby’s face when he tells him that he found a girl while on leave. That is going to be something that he would never want to miss.
“So tell me about you now, I think I’ve rambled on long enough.” Lucy said, as she beamed at Rosie, bumping her shoulder against his.
“You know almost everything about me, darling.”
“There has to be something. A dirty secret, perhaps?”
“No, no. Nothing of the sort.”
“Alright fine, Saint Rosie.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Any dirty secrets.”
“Hmm, a few, but my lips are sealed.”
“Now that’s unfair.”
“It is not!”
They continued on like that for a while longer, until both Rosie and Lucy had started to feel tiny pangs of hunger in their stomachs. The sun was shining brightly as they continued to walk on the beach, Lucy still intent on finding the cove she used to go to.
“Aha! There it is. I told you, my parents used to take me here when I was a kid.”
Lucy unlaced her hand from Rosie’s and he watched her as she ran across the sand, twirling and laughing like she had just won the lottery. A feeling of complete happiness and joy spread through Rosie’s limbs and he carefully placed the picnic basket on the sand, running after Lucy. Once he reached her he pulled her into his arms and twirled her around. Their laughter quickly filled the cove with joy it hadn’t witnessed in a while.
They had calmed down after a while and Rosie quickly helped Lucy set up the picnic. The ginger beer somehow still cool to the touch after being carried under the sun for a while. 
Once everything was ready, Rosie basically inhaled his sandwich, whether that was because of Lucy’s culinary skills or the hunger that had built up in him during the walk he did not know, but Rosie felt calm for the first time in a while.
He was now watching the push and pull of the waves against the sandy beach and stroking a hand through Lucy’s soft curls. With her head resting on his lap she seemed to almost be dozing off, a small content smile adorning her face.
“You know, I’m glad my editor made me take a break.” Lucy’s soft voice carefully broke the comfortable silence, Rosie hummed in appreciation - urging her to go on. “I haven’t stopped working ever since… my parents.”
“It’s almost like you settled into a routine, you thought you were handling it well and then suddenly…” Rosie trailed off as he thought back to his time at the Flak House, he had gotten better at handling missions after that, he felt more human but he knew exactly how hard it felt to just stop sometimes. Because when you stop, you start to feel everything.
“It gets too much…”
“Exactly. I had- have, the same problem.”
“Birds of a feather.”
“Yes.” Rosie murmured, his mind far away in the clouds. He felt so connected to Lucy for some reason. Maybe this is why. They were two sides of the same coin.
“Read to me, Rosie.” Lucy said after a few moments of silence. Rosie looked down to find that Lucy’s brown eyes were fixed on his face.
“You want the silly American to read to you?”
“Rosie… everything about you is beautiful, now, read to me. The silly Brit commands you.”
“Commanding me now, are we?” Rosie teasingly asked, largely ignoring the first part of Lucy’s comment which made him feel like he was floating.
“Rosie.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Rosie picked up the copy of The Great Gatsby that Lucy had packed and flicked to a random page, starting to read the tale of some rich fictional idiots who had no care in the world except for the sorrows of love.
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Pastels painted the sky as the sun started to set. Lucy was still lying in the same position she had been for the past few hours. Rosie had abandoned reading after a while and they spent that time talking and sitting in comfortable silence.
It was easy just being around Rosie, Lucy felt completely safe in his presence. He had this reassuring air around him which made her sure he was a wonderful Major.
“Sometimes I wish I could paint. I can write about this moment all I want but to create a piece of it would be a completely different experience.”
“Why don’t you start it?”
“What? Painting? No never, you have a better chance of turning me into a singer.” Lucy answered, making the pair laugh.
“Do you think we should head back?”
“Let us stay for a while more, Rosie. It’s too perfect. I want something to remember when we leave.”
“We’ll come back here, Lucy. I swear it.” Lucy smiled up sadly at Rosie, examining the way he looked down at her. She thought he looked earnest enough, but who knew with this war? Who knew if he would ever come back to her?
“I hope we will, Rosie.”
Lucy noticed how much quieter the walk back to her house was, Rosie had slung his arm around her shoulder, tucking her into him and protecting Lucy from the biting night wind that had started to pick up. It was almost as if the realization of leaving was starting to weigh on them. Rosie would be leaving late the next afternoon and Lucy on Monday. Both headed back to their lives and away from the slice of heaven they had been able to cultivate.
“Do you want to come in?” Lucy asked once they arrived at her house. She had already started to move to grab the picnic basket, making up her mind that Rosie wanted to at least spend a meal by himself.
“I would love to.” Lucy smiled and moved back to her original position under Rosie’s arm. “But only if you don’t mind me cooking?”
“You cook?!” Lucy must have realized she looked beyond surprised because she schooled her face a few moments later.
“I do. I haven’t had the chance recently, but my mother taught me well.”
Lucy smiled and quickly pecked Rosie on the cheek before bounding over to the door to unlock it.
“Come on, Rosie. I’m desperate to see what you’ll make.”
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Rosie just laughed and picked up his pace until he followed Lucy into the house and shut the door behind him. He placed the picnic basket on the floor and then headed towards the direction of the kitchen.
He passed Lucy, who was quickly flicking through the record collection, intent on finding something to put on while he cooked. Rosie already knew what he was going to make, he just hoped Lucy had the right ingredients for it.
Rosie quickly spent the next hour prepping and cooking his mom’s famous tomato soup. Lucy poured them each large cups of wine and watched him as he cooked. Rosie felt slightly embarrassed by her calculating stare, feeling her eyes on him the entire time he was slicing or stirring, but after a while he realized she was staring at him in admiration. Watching as he fluidly moved through her kitchen and prepared a dinner just for the two of them.
When Rosie was finally ready to plate the food, Lucy offered him two china bowls her mother must have saved for special occasions and Rosie distinctly felt his heart swell. He was rather nervous after they finished serving everything and sat down next to each other at the large dinner table that was usually left unused.
Rosie watched Lucy as dipped her spoon into the tomato soup, raised it to her lips and took a delicate sip. He watched as her face contorted in awe and she quickly took a larger sip.
“Rosie. How? This needs to be in a restaurant. This is incredible!”
“It can’t be that good.”
“Oh it is. You must tell me your secrets.” Rosie laughed, relieved that he was able to please her. He took a sip of his own soup and relished in the familiar taste of home.
After dinner and cleaning up the dishes, Rosie found himself nestled next to Lucy on the couch. She had gotten changed once they had finished drying the dishes and was now wearing the long lacy nightgown he had seen that morning. It seemed that it was tailored to be his own personal torture device.
“Lucy, you really need to stop me, because I really want to kiss you right now.” Rosie finally said, it seemed like the two glasses of wine had given him enough confidence that his brain was no longer filtering his mouth. Lucy turned her head to look at him directly and he watched as a smile blossomed on her face.
“Oh I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”
This kiss felt different from the others. It was as if it was imbued with a special kind of love that came from knowing the other person on a much deeper level. Rosie’s fingers were tangled in Lucy’s silky blonde curls and he could feel as his own curls were being ruffled from where Lucy’s hands had started to tug on them.
When they finally broke apart, both Rosie and Lucy were panting hard. Rosie knew he was looking at Lucy with more admiration than he thought was possible and she was looking at him with the same depth of love in her eyes.
“You are quite a man, Robert Rosenthal.”
“And you are quite a woman, Lucy Everett.” Lucy laughed and she tucked herself close to him once again. Rosie relished in the warmth that her body emanated, how he wished he could stay like this forever.
Little by little, the sound of Bing Crosby started to fade and Rosie felt himself drop into a slow slumber. Lucy’s eyes also began to close and the two lovers drifted off into the sweet escape of sleep.
Only once did one of them wake, Rosie woke up panting after having what seemed like a nightmare. The moon illuminated the living room and he could still hear the distant sounds of a woman screaming. He shook himself out of it and instead focused on the blonde in his arms. He carefully readjusted her and placed a kiss on her cheek before falling back asleep.
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Lucy felt a warm solid body pressed against her own. She blearily blinked her eyes open and watched as her living room blossomed around her. Then she remembered where she was, and who she was with.
“You’re finally awake.” Rosie’s voice made Lucy smile contently and she looked up to see Rosie’s intent stare on her face.
“Hmmm, good morning.”
“It is indeed.”
“You stayed.”
“I wouldn’t leave unless I had to, Lucy.” Rosie said with a sad smile, Lucy watched as his eyes dimmed slightly and she quickly nestled closer into him. Sitting up slightly to press a kiss to his jaw, and then his cheek and finally his lips.
“What was that for?”
“I thought you needed it.” Lucy said with a shrug before she was too attacked with kisses. Rosie’s mustache tickled her skin as he placed a flurry of kisses all over her face. She shrieked in delight, making Rosie chuckle against her. “Rosie! Stop! I have to go make breakfast.”
“Nope.” Rosie stopped kissing her for a moment just to respond to her comment and Lucy let out a sigh of relief, which was instantly cut short as he started his assault once again.
“Rosie…”
“Okay, okay fine. Come on. I’ll help you make breakfast.” Rosie said, finally relenting. He stretched out his arms and let out a groan as Lucy also yawned and started to stand up from her place on the couch.
“What are you feeling like?”
“Anything you want, darling. Just none of that tea please.” Lucy narrowed her eyes at him, which had Rosie smiling sheepishly at her.
“Fine, come on.”
Lucy quickly busied herself as she picked out the meager ingredients she had to make eggless pancakes, since she had used up the last of the eggs yesterday. Lucy could feel Rosie’s eyes on her when she started to do her little tea ritual.
“Can you put on some music, honey?” Lucy asked once she had finished pouring herself a cup.
“Of course.”
After the click of the record sounded, Lucy distinctly felt the weight of Rosie behind her as he pulled her towards him and hugged her from behind. Lucy was carefully measuring out the ingredients but she let her head lean against his shoulder.
“Hmmm. I’m going to miss you.” Lucy whispered, Rosie hummed against her head and Lucy felt herself start to sway against him. She felt a slow tear run down the length of her cheek and she allowed herself to just feel for a few moments.
“I may be leaving but I’ll always be in your heart, and you will always be in mine.”
“You’re already making me cry, Rosie, stop saying things like that.” Lucy said with a strained laugh. Looking back at him, Lucy felt her heart both swell and break simultaneously.
“Lucy… I-”
“I love you.” Lucy muttered, interrupting Rosie mid sentence. She watched him as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
“You- you? You love me?”
“I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”
“I love you too. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you sitting outside on your porch swing reading the same book I was. Lucy, darling, I-”
Lucy cut Rosie off again but this time with a kiss. She threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him towards her. She put everything she had into that kiss and she felt as Rosie responded in turn. His lips cautiously moved against hers and she felt a tingle run over her body by how carefully he cradled her face against his.
“Rosie. I really need to get to those pancakes.” Lucy finally said after a few long minutes of kissing. She muttered her words against his lips, feeling as Rosie chuckled and pulled away from here.
“Nothing is stopping you, milady.” Lucy huffed but turned back around. Savoring the feeling of the man that she loved cradling her as she fixed breakfast and took sips of her tea.
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Rosie’s tastebuds ignited when he placed a slice of pancake in his mouth. The day was already starting to shape out to be a good one. He still felt like he was floating after Lucy’s admission only half an hour ago, now he just watched her in awe from across the kitchen table. She was also taking careful bites of her pancakes and stealing glances at him.
They had almost become more bashful than they had ever been, whenever they met eyes either Rosie or Lucy would immediately break eye contact. There was a comfortable tension between them that neither person felt necessary to break.
Once they had both finished their respective breakfasts, Rosie leant over and entwined their hands together. He watched as Lucy smiled adoringly at him and leaned over to peck his lips.
“Rosie… I- do you want to finish The Great Gatsby?” Lucy asked against his lips, staring at him intently. Rosie nodded and they both rose from their seats and walked over to the living room. Leaving the dishes for another time.
The morning was spent in a quiet comfort. Rosie’s voice echoed through the rooms of the house, although he frequently stopped his reading to press languid kisses to Lucy’s lips, or to caress the exposed skin of her arm. At the pace that he ended up going, he finished the book at about midday. When Rosie leaned over to place the book on the coffee table, he felt Lucy stir from his side and start to stretch out.
“I need to get changed, Rosie.”
“Yeah?”
“Hmm. I wanted to walk with you to the station and I can’t do that wearing a nightgown.”
“I wouldn’t be complaining.”
“I know you wouldn’t be, but do you truly want everyone else staring at me.” Rosie blinked up at Lucy from his position on the couch when realization dawned on him. “I thought so. Now busy yourself with something while I get changed.”
“Yes ma’am.” Rosie said with a sarcastic nod which had Lucy shaking her head at him before disappearing out of the door. 
Rosie took to scanning the living room he had basically lived in for the past few days. He wanted to commit it all to memory before he had to leave. At that thought, Rosie dragged a hand over his face - he was leaving in less than two hours and he was leaving her. How he wished he could take her with him and show her the planes that so fascinated her. Most of all he wanted this damned war to end so he could be in her arms for the rest of his life.
His fingers caressed the worn fabric of the couch he was sitting on, he felt more at home here than he had in a while. Rosie didn’t want to leave. He knew his duty and nothing would stop him from that, but how he wished it wasn’t like this. He wished he had met Lucy at a jazz bar, or at a bookstore, when war wasn’t a constant in both of their lives.
He wished the world was different, but unfortunately it wasn’t. All Rosie could do was keep coming back from missions, and now he had another reason to.
“Very well, how do I look?” Lucy’s voice almost made him jump, he had been so lost in his thoughts that Rosie hadn’t heard the creaking of the age old floorboards. He took a few moments to take in his beautiful Lucy. She was wearing a long light yellow dress with black flowers embroidered on the collar.
“You look radiant as always, my dear.” Rosie said, almost breathlessly as he rose from his spot on the sofa and walked over to her. He pressed a kiss to her lips, trying to memorize the feeling of her warm body against his.
“Hmm. Not that this isn’t wonderful, but we need to make lunch. And I wanted to make some sandwiches for your trip back.”
“You really don’t need to do that.” Rosie said as he pulled away from Lucy to look at her in surprise.
“I want to, now come.”
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After a quick lunch, Lucy had disappeared into her study to write him a little note - leaving Rosie to do the dishes. She sat down at her desk and stretched her fingers before starting to type.
Dear Rosie,
I know you won’t read this until you get back, but I wanted you to have something to remember me by. I just wanted to say that I love you and I promise to write to you nearly every day and try to call you when I can because I’m not sure I will be able to survive without hearing or reading your words for a day.
You have turned my world into something I never expected. I never expected you, my darling. I wish we could spend more days like this weekend. I will never forget them, I will never forget you. I will always cherish these memories, until we are able to make new ones just like them.
I love you, my dear. Remember that when you’re flying your plane and have your head in the clouds.
All my love,
Lucy
With a final ding of the typewriter, Lucy pulled the paper out and blew a little on the ink before folding it into a neat rectangle. She grabbed Rosie’s copy of The Great Gatsby that had been hanging around the house for the past few days. Opening up the book she slipped the note in between the pages and then picked up her pencil to scribble her name on the inside cover page.
“Now what might you be up to?” Lucy swivelled around to find Rosie leaning on the doorframe. His arms were crossed and he seemed to have been standing there for quite a while.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Oh really? So you didn’t just slip something into my book.”
“Shhh, it’s supposed to be a secret. Be a dear and don’t open it until you get back.” Lucy said as she rose from her seat and placed the book into Rosie’s hands, an easy smile on her face.
“The suspense might kill me but I promise. When do you have to head back to London?”
“Tomorrow. I’m hoping for a new assignment.”
“I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”
“You better buy a copy of the paper once it’s published.”
“Don’t worry, I will be on the lookout for it.” Rosie’s arms now encircled her waist, and Lucy was sure she was staring at him like a lovesick idiot.
“We better get going if we want to catch your train. You still need to pick up your luggage.”
“I know, but this is much more preferable.”
“Rosie… don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“Alright, alright.” Rosie’s hands rose in a defeated posture, making Lucy choke out a laugh.
“Come on.” 
Lucy followed after Rosie as she went to grab the necessary things for leaving the house. She slipped on her shoes and tied the laces while watching Rosie take in the last details of the hallway before he left. He looked contemplative and Lucy wondered what exactly he was thinking about.
Rosie’s curls were all messed up from a night on the couch and from Lucy’s constant tugging and rearranging of them. Lucy thought he looked ethereal standing there in wrinkled clothes and messy hair. For the billionth time she wished she was a painter so she could capture him just like that.
“Ready?” She finally asked. Lucy’s question made Rosie’s eyes travel to her and he gave her a nod before going to open the door.
It felt final to Lucy, she knew she would see him again but there was always a chance, a high chance, that he wouldn’t come back to her. Even if he had promised he would.
She waited outside of the B&B for Rosie to collect his luggage, she had taken to kicking a pebble on the sidewalk and staring at the cracks in the pavement. Watching as the little weeds crept through the cement.
“Lucy… I have everything.” Rosie’s tentative voice broke her out of her thought spiral, making Lucy look over to him to find that he had changed into his uniform and had tamed his curls. He looked handsome, somehow even more handsome than he had while he wore civies. His hat was under his left arm and he held his luggage in the other.
“Well don’t you look handsome?” Rosie rewarded Lucy with a bashful smile and a blush. “Aww, don’t go getting all shy on me now.” Lucy teased as she came up to him and carefully took the hat from under his arm and placed it slightly lopsided on his head. She wrapped her hand around his now free arm and leaned against his shoulder.
The walk to the train station was filled with easy chatter, Lucy was trying to avoid facing the fact that he was leaving (possibly forever) and that she would have to return to a house that would now be void of Rosie. The small platform greeted the pair all too quickly, the station clock showing that it would only be a few minutes before the train that would take Rosie far, far away from her would arrive.
“Rosie, I- I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t- Lucy, I don’t want this to be goodbye.”
“But you’re leaving, Rosie.”
“I’ll come back.”
“Oh, Rosie, you can’t promise me that.” She smiled tightly at him, and threw her arms around his shoulder. Feeling as he quickly reciprocated the hug. Hot, burning tears started to race down her face.
“I know, I know I can’t, but I promise that I’ll keep trying to come back. To come back to you.”
“I’m going to miss you so much. I love you.” Lucy whispered against his chest, as she let out a choked sob. She felt droplets of water hit her head and she realized that Rosie was crying too.
“And I’m going to miss you, my dear Lucy. I love you too, so much.” Rosie said as he leaned closer to Lucy.
“Promise me you’ll write.”
“Every day. Here, this is my address at the base and the phone number.” Rosie quickly pulled a piece of paper and pencil from his bag and scribbled a note on there, adding a heart for good measure.
The distant sound of the train whistle had Lucy’s heart clenching. She quickly swept away her tears and took the paper from Rosie’s hands. She pulled him in for one last kiss. Feeling as the top of his hat bumped against her forehead and how his lips pressed against hers.
The train whistle got louder and louder, making the urgency of the kiss increase. It felt like a goodbye kiss. Lucy hoped she would get to experience it again but she also knew this might be the last time, so she memorized the pressure and love that seemed to be behind Rosie’s actions. They finally pulled apart, reluctantly, when the train slowed into the station.
“Goodbye, Lucy Everett. Don’t cry, my darling. I’ll always be here. In our memories and in the love you know I hold for you.” Rosie muttered, Lucy stared deep into his eyes and nodded.
“Goodbye, Rosie. I love you so so much, now go.” Rosie smiled sadly and then pulled away from her. Lucy watched as her dear Major stepped onto the train and turned to wave at her and blow her a kiss one last time. She smiled as tears ran down her cheeks and waved back, making her remember that first wave he had sent her all those days ago.
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Rosie was back on the train, except this time it wasn’t boiling hot and he was feeling the deep pangs of an aching heart. He missed her so much already and it had only been two hours. He would be arriving in London soon where he would have to change trains to get back to base, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except stare at the piece of paper in his hands. He hadn’t opened it yet but he kept stroking the paper as if it would magically make Lucy appear in front of him.
He wanted desperately to ask the train to go back around, to abandon his life so he could run off into the sunset with his sweetheart but he had a job to do. A job which would keep her safe. So he spent the entire time on the train and then the jeep back to base thinking about Lucy’s silky curls and her ringing laughter.
Even Crosby seemed to notice something was up when he was quieter than usual at dinner. He tried to press him about it, but Rosie just brushed him off. Until he realized that Cros was now genuinely looking worried about him. 
“Crosby, I’m fine.”
“What the hell happened during your leave that has suddenly turned you into a grouch?”
“I met someone.”
“You met someone?” Crosby tentatively asked.
“A girl.”
“You met a girl?!”
“Crosby, goddammit, quiet down.”
“Jesus, sorry. So you met a girl?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And what? I met a girl, fell in love and now I’m dealing with the fact I might never get to see her again.”
“Did you give her your address? Wait- fell in love? Rosie, you scoundrel!”
“It isn’t like that, Cros.”
“Sure. But did you?”
“Yes, I gave her my address. I’m sure she’ll write-”
“There! You see, she loves you too right?”
“Yes.”
“Exactly, you need to stop overthinking this and just allow it to happen.”
“Crosby… I just- I promised I’d come back to her.”
“Then you better do it. You’re one of the best god damned pilots I know, Rosie. If anyone could do it, you can. You’ll make it back and you’ll make gorgeous babies with this girl of yours. What’s her name anyways?”
“Lucy Everett.”
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so... thoughts? queries?
also here are the moodboards i've made so far: meet the oc lucy's outfits
there will probably be an epilogue of sorts and some little drabbles/fics scattered around the timeline so let me know if you want to be added to the taglist !!
taglist: @justheretoreadthhx @callumsgirl <33
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Note
For the ilysib couple 👀 Where they have an argument but realize that they can't be without each other & make up .. maybe with some smut ? 🙈
No smut in this, only suggestive at the end :)
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"Jungkook you constantly do this, it's ridiculous!" You complain, shaking your head. "I'm done with this, fuck this!" You argue, not looking at him.
"You're not even letting me talk!" He whines back at you, frantically gesturing with his hands. "I didn't mean to come off like that, come on-" he attempts to make up his mistake, looking at you with a pleading gaze, and you roll your eyes- mostly because you know his stupid round eyes will surely make you cave in.
"You know how I hate it when you don't take me seriously! You didn't even ASK me if I wanted that!" You cry out, angrily folding a skirt you throw into your bag zipped up on the bed.
And that's when he does something that really makes you fume. He's got the audacity to take out each item you just packed, even holding something out of your reach when you grab after it. "Give me that, asshole-" you growl, and he shakes his head.
"You're not leaving like that." He shakes his head, pulling the entire bag off the bed, before he sits down on the side of it. "I was stupid, it was rushed, I should've asked you first, got it. I admit that, I take that, it's my fault-" he says, and you make the mistake to look at his stupid bambi-gaze, feeling your heated anger already losing its fire. "-But don't leave. Please." He asks, hands on his knees palms facing upwards. "I'm sorry I always treat you like I do, I'll really work on it." He promises, and you sigh, arms still crossed.
"I don't want you to change that.." you mumble, chewing on your lip. "I.. ugh I like it when you like, baby me and shit, I just.." you huff to yourself, averting your eyes from him. You've got no clue how to voice your thoughts and feelings, at all. Because you've gotten so attached to him that you've now become scared to be without him.
You've let him too close, and now you're stuck with him. Now it'll hurt when he leaves. And that scares you.
"I want you to take me seriously." You whine, and he reaches out his arms for you- something you almost instinctively walk towards, letting him pull you onto his lap, hands around your back keeping you secure.
"I am." He nods, and you decide that anger doesn't suit his pretty face.
"But I want you to.. baby me too. Like.. get me shit from shelves too high, and brush my hair, and all that cheesy shit you constantly do.." you say, and he sighs.
"But you can have both?" He wonders, tilting his head to somewhat look at your lowered face. "Just cause I care for you or call you cute and do those things for you doesn't mean I'm not taking you seriously anymore." He explains, and you just shrug, defeated.
"But sometimes I don't wanna be cute." You complain. "Sometimes I wanna be sexy. You know?" You ask, looking at him, and he shakes his head, laughing.
"You're both to me." He chuckles. "That's what makes you so amazing to me. You can switch from absolutely adorable to breathtakingly hot in a split second. Makes me dizzy sometimes, not gonna lie." He flirts, and you roll your eyes.
"You just wanna have post-argument-sex right now, admit it." He laughs, loudly so, throwing his head back, before he grins at you again.
"See? Right now you're both again-" he smiles, hands sneaking under your loose shirt. "Cute and sexy. And just for the record, while I wouldn't say no, I wasn't aiming for that." He says, trying to appear seriously.
"Ah well, you're getting it anyways.." you shrug, before you leave his lap, and flop down on the bed next to him on your back. "You're doing all the work though, I'm still huffy at you for pulling that shit." You say, and he laughs fo himself, leaning over you, quickly loosing his shirt.
"Don't worry.." he purrs down at you, eyes now sharp as they look down at you. "I'll take care of you."
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dyns33 · 11 months
Text
The Temple
Morpheus x female reader 
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Y/N was not immortal. She was not a goddess, or a fairy, or a witch.
Only a human waitress who had gotten a job at the New Inn, and had quickly become friends with the owner, Mr. Gadling.
Hob, as he liked to be called, was a bit of a strange man. Very nice, high school history teacher, who used the rest of his free time to take care of his pub, where he served customers while correcting his students' homework.
When asked how he managed to find the time to do everything, he replied mysteriously that he had plenty of time.
It was during a night that Y/N discovered her boss's secret.
As they were going to close, after cleaning the tables and turning off the lights, a man came in, pointing a gun at them, ordering them to give him the money.
Not wanting trouble, Hob agreed, giving everything they had as quickly as possible. But the man had then looked at Y/N with a funny look.
It wasn't hard to know what he was thinking. But before he could speak, Mr. Gadling had then lunged at him, grabbing his arm so he was no longer pointing his gun at Y/N. The fight was quick, a shot was fired, and both men fell to the ground.
The thief was unconscious, as Hob clutched his chest, watching his blood flow. Y/N let out a scream, grabbing a towel to put pressure on the wound, while picking up her phone to call for help, refusing to think that it was unnecessary, as the bullet was at the location of the heart.
Then a strange thing happened. Mr. Gadling was in pain, it was obvious, but he tried to smile anyway, a twisted grin, looking at her kindly. He took her phone and hung up, before wiping away her tears, no longer worrying about his injury.
    "Don't cry, duck. It's okay."
    "Hob... Hob, I'm sorry."
    "No, don't be. It's not your fault. Why are people so stupid and rude ? He couldn't take the money and leave ? As a gentleman, I couldn't leave him to you. touch. Don't worry, I... I just need some time. Then you can call the police."
    "But... You will die." she sobbed.
     "... Can you keep a little secret for when we have to make our depositions ?"
It turned out that Hob Gadling could not die. Not if he didn't want to at least. 
It wasn't very clear, and he himself didn't seem to really know how things worked, but after an hour his wound was almost healed, they were able to clean up the blood and call the police.
    "Well... It was a pleasure to meet you." he sighed when they were alone. "I'm going to have to grab my things and leave now. If you could be lovely and not tell anyone until I'm gone..."
    "What ? You're leaving ?! Why ?!"
    "As soon as someone finds out my secret or suspects something, I leave. I can't stay in the same place for more than twenty years. It was nice, I'll probably come back later when everyone will have forgotten me. I will say that I am a nephew. Damn, I hoped to be there if my stranger decided to find me."
    "But you don't need to leave ! I won't say anything, I swear !"
Hob gazed at her for a long time, considering the situation, before deciding that he trusted her.
He trusted her so much that he told her his whole story. His adventures. His marriage, wife and children.
His stranger.
Another immortal, or something else, supernatural creature, vampire, demon, god.
The one he considered a friend, whom he met once every hundred years, with whom he had argued, and who hadn't come to their last date.
    "Oh." said Y/N sadly. "Why ?"
    "You should ask him. Although he probably won't answer, he's not very good at communication. Maybe he's still mad at me. Maybe he'll never come again. In addition, the pub where we met has closed. That's why I created this place, so that if one day he comes back, he can find me, like before."
Loneliness was a feeling that Y/N knew quite well. Attachment too, to certain people that we always wanted to have with us and whose mere presence made us happy.
Helping Hob Gadling became her mission. Because he was her boss, her friend, her savior, and she wanted him to be happy. So she would do everything to make sure he stayed as long as possible at the New Inn, until his stranger returned.
She took care of the place with much more ardor and love than before, making it warm, welcoming, alive. People who came to the pub all said that the owner and the waitress brought them a little joy and hope.
Every day, Y/N came to work wondering if the stranger would be here this time. Even without knowing him, he occupied her thoughts and her nights. Her dreams. She would picture a tall, pale man, with raven hair, eyes containing a starry night, and from which there emanated something indescribable. She really wanted to meet him, and for him to come back to see Robert, who had been waiting for him for more than a hundred years.
Since he didn't seem human, she wondered if he would hear her prayers. In any case, she didn't know how she could love someone she had never seen, nor how she could miss him.
And one day, when she went to ask Hob if he wanted another coffee to finish correcting his students' papers, she found him sitting across from a man. Even though her instinct immediately told her that it wasn't a man. He was too expressionless to be a man, and he looked a lot like her dreams.
    "Ah ! Y/N !" Hob said when he saw her, his eyes sparkling and a huge smile on his face. "I must introduce you ! Y/N, this is my stranger. Stranger, this is Y/N, my employee and my friend."
    "I see." said the stranger in a distant voice. "Honored to properly meet you, young priestess."
    "Priestess ?"
    "Of course. This temple was built for me, its essence, its walls, all sing in my name, and while you became my priest, Hob Gadling, you were aided by this priestess."
     "... What ?" Hob and Y/N said at the same time.
     "Didn't you feel it ?"
     "Not really, dove." answered the immortal, a little lost. "Are the other employees also priests ?"
     "No. They do not know the purpose of this place."
Y/N didn't really know how to react. By deciding to work at the pub and help Hob, she hadn't signed up to become the priestess of an unknown, visibly tempestuous god who could harm her if she didn't celebrate him properly.
Frightened, she excused herself to serve other customers, before staying behind the counter, as far as possible from Hob and his stranger, who looked at her for a while, before resuming their conversation.
When the god was gone, her boss tried to reassure her. He had been as surprised as she by the term "priest", but he didn't think it really made sense. It only seemed to please his stranger that someone thought of him when creating a place.
     "I don't think he's going to get you in trouble. He never gave me any. Yeah, it hurt me when he left, but that's it, and he came back, and now he will come back In a hundred years, when you... Anyway, he won't give you trouble, I promise you, and if he does, I'll never talk to him again."
This did not reassure her. Y/N went home wondering if she should quit or if it was too late for that. If she had made a pact with the devil without doing it on purpose, like Hob who had become immortal without knowing why.
She still managed to fall asleep despite her fears, only to find herself in a pub that looked like the New Inn, but older.
     "This is the White Horse. Hob Gadling and I used to meet there a long time ago."
The stranger was there, seated at a table by the fire, slowly waving his hand to invite her to take a seat in the chair opposite him. Imagining that she had no choice, Y/N obeyed.
     "I sensed that you were afraid of me, Y/N Y/L/N. My raven informed me that I needed to talk to you to clarify the situation."
     "Your raven ?"
      “Matthew. He can be impertinent, but he has some good advice, when he wants to. As a priestess of the Dreaming, you have certain responsibilities, but you don't have to worry about them. You already fulfill them remarkably well."
     "I don't understand." Y/N sighed, still scared.
     "Very well. I am Dream of the Endless, Morpheus, Master of dreams and nightmares, prince of stories. As my priestess, it is your duty to welcome the dreamers, to entertain them, to give them hope, to guide them on the right path and to ensure that they leave without injury. You are already doing all this, with Hob Gadling as with all those who enter my temple. So I have nothing more to ask from you."
     "... He's going to be furious."
     "... Who ?" asked the stranger, Morpheus, his brow furrowing, giving expression to his doll's face for the first time.
     "Hob ! You haven't told him your name for ages, when I just met you. We're going to be in trouble."
     "Oh ? Really ? I'll think about telling him next time."
     "A hundred years from now ? When I... When I'm gone ? No offense, but I couldn't keep this secret until I died."
     "I was thinking of returning next week, if my obligations permit it. Fear not, I will speak to Hob Gadling. And to my sister, if you wish so, dear priestess. Your love haunts the walls of my temple, as well of your dreams. I will do what I can to make you happy."
He then stood up, the pub around them growing hazy. As if it was perfectly normal, Morpheus took the time to kiss her hand wishing her a good day, then Y/N woke up.
She hesitated to mention this encounter to Hob. Maybe it was just a dream after all. She decided not to give too many details, indicating only that she had dreamed of the stranger, who had confirmed to her that he expected nothing from her, and that he would return soon.
     "Soon ? Next week ? Really ? That would be wonderful !" Hob marveled, hopping around the tables like a 600-year-old child.
     "Yes, wonderful. He also talked about his sister."
     "His sister ?"
     "He said he would talk to her if that was what I wanted." repeated Y/N, continuing to wash the windows, while observing the raven which was standing on a tree.
     "I didn't know he had a sister, but good for him ! He's coming back !"
Morpheus returned, to give his name to Hob who happily accepted it, and to tell Y/N that his sister had accepted. He didn't immediately explain what that meant. It took several years, a panic attack, and Matthew the talking raven to make it clearer.
Even if he hadn't known his name before, Hob was right, his stranger was not very good at communication, too glad to have two priests, and maybe two friends, now immortal.
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propertyofwhitney67 · 3 months
Text
My Little Pet
Yandere M!Whitney x AFAB!Reader
(Inspired by this post)
Tw: yandere Whitney (?), kidnapping, dubcon, fingering, PinV sex
Words: 786
Note: I’ve never written anything yandere so…eh
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I should have known better than to disappear for so long, but it wasn’t my fault. And I didn’t think he’d do this. 
I woke up with a pounding headache, the last thing I remember was being hit upside the head. I looked around, finding myself locked in a large dog crate as Whitney angrily paced the room. I shivered and realized he had taken my clothes, at least he filled the crate with blankets and pillows. I grabbed one of the blankets, wrapping it around me to keep the cold away.
I kept quiet, knowing better than to bother him when he got like this. I sat curled up in the far corner of the cage, waiting for him to finally say something. He hadn’t said a word since I woke up, only pausing every so often to stare at me.
He finally stopped pacing and crouched in front of the crate, “You know why I took you, right?” I nodded obediently, “Good…Only I can kidnap you. Not that freak, not the weirdo in the woods, only me.” 
I looked around his room more, not much was different besides the crate and an ankle cuff with a chain attached to his bedpost. He noticed me staring, “That’s for when you’re not in your crate.”
I nodded slowly, taking everything in. It was a lot, “What about when you leave? What do I do then?”
“You go back in your crate, can’t have you making a mess. But since I’m home, I’ll let you out, 
as long as you promise to be good.” I nodded and he unlocked the crate, letting me out.
Once I crawled out of the crate he picked me up and placed me on his bed, then got the ankle cuff to put on me. He locked it around my ankle and gave it a tug, testing its strength. It held firm. He nodded to himself, happy that it didn’t budge.
He pushed me onto my back, “Now be a good pet and do as I say.”
I nodded and answered meekly, “Ok.” He crawled atop me and nudged my legs apart with his knee.
“Good…” He groped at my body harshly, “You’re my slut.” He reached down between my legs, brushing his thumb against my clit. “And I can do whatever I want with you.”
I whined and squirmed, “Whitney…” He ignored me and plunged two fingers into my cunt, scissoring me open in preparation for his cock. “Ah!” I moaned and weakly grabbed at his arm, “Wait-Ah! Whitney, please.”
He continued to scissor me open, “Don’t complain, pet.” He pinned my arms above my head and looked me in the eyes. “I could make it hurt, but I’m being nice.”
I whimpered and nodded, ”‘m sorry…” He smiled and let go of my arms, going back to scissoring me open and rubbing my clit.
Once he coaxed an orgasm out of me he decided I was prepped enough for his cock. He undressed and crawled atop of me, “Mine.” He growled in my ear, thrusting into me forcefully. I moaned in pleasure and pain as he bottomed out, it was deliciously painful.
He stilled for a moment, caressing my face. “My obedient little pet.” He leaned down to kiss me, “All mine.” He set an oddly soft and slow pace.
“Why…?” I whimpered, “I-I didn’t mean to.” I tried to hold onto him, but he pinned my arms down again. “It-” I let out a sob, “It wasn’t my fault.”
His famous anger reared its ugly head at my words, “I don’t care, shut up!” With his free hand, he slapped me.
I cried out and choked on a sob, “Please…” I begged as he sped up his pace, becoming rougher.
“Don’t make me gag you, Y/n. Shut up and enjoy it.” He growled, “You’re always begging for me to fuck you.” He roughly grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. “Now, my little pet, I can at any hour of the day.” 
I took deep breaths trying to calm myself, not wanting to anger him further. I nodded shakily at him, “You can…you can have me whenever you want.”
I quickly grew to love being Whitney’s pet. He took good care of me, fulfilling my every need. He even trained all my holes to make sure I was always ready for him, stuffing my holes with dildos and plugs while he was gone. He was the perfect master, even letting me sleep on the bed if I was good. But in return, I had to cockwarm him like a good pet. He needed a warm hole to be able to sleep and I was that hole.
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𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
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ctitan98official · 1 month
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Anonymous: OK OK HEAR ME OUT; What if in your most recent post of Alcina lost child Au, both Alcina and Miranda encounter Y/N again but... plot twist they where adopted by a corporation that experimented in childs to become them in the perfect soldier, completely loyal and emotionless, they are in the village for a mision to see if the residents in there are dangerous to the outside world and in case of so, they have the order to kill them all. Imagine the guility and heartbroken they might feel since their little child became just another weapon...
Alright, so this was requested a loooong time ago. I finally got around to it XD This was inspired by my Alcina’s long lost child AU.
You were taken and experimented on relentlessly by Umbrella as a baby. The corporation had found your file and knew your origin. The product of two powerful bioweapons… It was too good of an opportunity for them to pass up.
You didn’t even know who your parents were and yet… You hated them. It was their fault that you were being tortured. Your every waking moment for the first few years of your life was excruciating. Needles, imaging, testing. Was this truly all you were meant to be? Some… Lab rat?
You grew up with no affection. Just sterile and generic questions. “How have you felt since we did the last test? Any symptoms?”
You tried to reach out to other people. To talk to them and ask them questions. To build some semblance of a human connection… But it was useless.
Nobody gave a shit.
So… You started shutting down.
No tears, no smiles. What was the point? People didn’t care. You learned to shut off that part of yourself fairly quickly.
Thankfully, once it was clear that you did not possess the powers that your parents did (Or any, for that matter), The experiments began to lessen and eventually stopped.
Shortly before Umbrella began to crumble from the inside out, the B.S.A.A. liberated you and put you into protective custody within the confines of their organization. You knew a lot about the inner machinations of Umbrella and were a vital source of information for them.
While the people with B.S.A.A. were largely nicer than the scientists at Umbrella, it was soon clear that they also wanted to use you.
Thankfully, a kind agent decided to take you under his wing. His name was Chris Redfield. He was appalled at everything you had been through and made a silent vow to protect you from then on.
While you were still closely monitored by B.S.A.A., Chris raised you at his house alongside his little sister, Claire. She was a few years older than you, but she always tried to include you in whatever she was doing. She was sweet.
However… It was too late to save you from the psychological damage you sustained.
You have no compassion, no empathy. Your brain just doesn’t work like that anymore. It’s been programmed to survive that way.
You actually hate being around other people. They’re weak. Their self-centered and petty little lives are a joke. They pretend that their existence has some higher meaning. That they are worthy of respect, admiration… Love.
It’s ridiculous.
Other people may have been fed bullshit their entire lives, but not you. For as sucky as your childhood was, it opened your eyes to the truth. You understand firsthand that greed is how the world actually works. Everyone is in it for themselves.
Money. Power. Influence. That’s what people secretly desire. However, nobody seems to have the balls to come out and say it so plainly. They want to hide behind their beliefs and “Morals”.
That’s okay. You couldn’t give less of a shit. Let them delude themselves.
Your only true loyalty lies with Chris and Claire. Even though you are unable to form any real attachment to them, they are the only people you would even consider helping if they needed it. Chris got you out of the shitty situation you were living in and you would spend the rest of your life trying to repay that favor.
Chris knew that you wanted to do what he did for a living. He would have much preferred to protect you from the horrors of bioterrorism, but… Well, you’re pretty much the embodiment of it. So, he reluctantly agreed. If you wanted something this badly, then he was going to do his best to make it happen. He started training you in marksmanship.
You became skilled. Very skilled. You devoted all of your time to it. Only taking necessary breaks to eat or sleep. Then, it was back to training.
Chris pretty much molded you into the perfect agent… And now, here you are. On your first mission together.
You and Chris are being flown to a rural area in Romania. There is intel suggesting the possible presence of B.O.W.s and it’s on you to determine if they are a threat… Or might become one.
Hound Wolf Squad were flown in a few hours earlier and are currently in a holding position, waiting for you and Chris.
Chris, never one to bullshit you, sits down next to you on the helicopter. “Looks like there might be some big action, kid. Rolando’s been scoping out the area and… It’s pretty hot with B.O.W.s,” He says quietly. “I just want you to know that it’s… Okay to be worried, Y/N. Many experienced agents still have jitters before a mission.”
You’re currently cleaning one of your guns. “Obliterate the target or die trying. It’s all the same to me, Redfield,” You tell him, not even turning to look at him.
Chris breathes out a laugh at this. You’re truly one of a kind. He pats your arm before standing up again. “Good talk, Y/N,” He says.
It’s true, though. So what if you die? It can’t be much different than living. You finish up before the pilot announces that you’ve arrived.
The helicopter lands in an abandoned field and you and Chris hop out.
“Alright, you and me will head into the village and Hound Wolf Squad will be tailing us,” Chris instructs.
You nod silently at this.
“We want to be able to get information out of them, so we’ll try the, uh, non-violent path first,” He says. “Who knows… Maybe it’ll be as simple as sitting down and having some coffee with them?” He smiles.
You almost feel a small fondness tugging your heart at Chris’s statement. After all he’s been through, he always tries to see the good in people.
You two make the trek into the village and Chris is able to get in contact with Hound Wolf Squad. They’ll be here to offer backup if you need it. All seems to be going according to plan.
However… The closer you both get to the center of the village… The more you get this weird… Sensation. It’s like your very being is thrumming.
Something about this place… Is drawing you in. Wanting you to be here.
For the first time in years you feel… A stab of panic. What is happening to you? This isn’t normal.
But… You don’t say anything. Whatever this feeling is, it’s your problem to deal with. You’re not going to drag Chris down with you.
You two look around at the ramshackle buildings in town.
Chris whistles. “What a shit hole,” He murmurs.
You try to shake off the warm pulse that is flowing through you. “It looks completely deserted,” You remark.
Chris nods in agreement. “You’re right,” He says. He looks off in the distance and spots the castle. A gentle light is emanating from the windows and smoke is billowing out of its chimney. “I think that may be our best bet, kid. Let’s go check it out,” He says, pointing at the ornate building.
You nod silently and the two of you begin the journey up the side of the mountain. It’s rather uneventful, and that’s a welcome change. This place is kind of freaking you out, a feat you didn’t even know was possible.
But… What awaits you is about to change your life forever. You’re about to learn the story of where you came from.
Whether you want to or not.
Note: Cliffhanger! Let me know what you thought and thanks for reading!
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joey-marvel14 · 4 months
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Holding on..(oneshot)
Bucky Barnes x reader
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Summary: you notice Bucky is been more quiet then usual. He’s not talking to anyone, not even you. Bucky becomes withdrawn, his eyes are more puffy and sleep deprived, you notice he’s not eating as much either.
Warning: ‼️ ANGST, MENTIONS SYMPTOMS OF DEPRESSION AND SLIGHT GORE, SOME COMFORT, PANIC ATTACK.
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I’m usually up at ridiculous times in the morning, I’m quite productive in the early mornings. So I simply walk around the avengers tower until I feel sleepy enough to go back to bed.
This was one of those mornings.
I travelled down to the kitchen to go and grab a snack, I looked out of the big windows to see the beautiful pink and yellow sunrise. I smiled at how gorgeously detailed the sky was. I continued to walk downstairs. As I entered the kitchen I saw a figure, I immediately recognised who it was. I smiled widely, happy to see him
“Hey Bucky-” Bucky turned around. My smile slightly faulted.
My eyes travelled to his face..
His eyes seemed like they were sunken in by the dark eye bags it looks like he hasn’t slept in days. I took a closer look at his eyes and they looked red and puffy, like he’s been crying, fresh tear stains glided apon his cheeks. My stare slowly appeared downwards to his chest and ribcage, his body looked skinnier, malnourished. I stared at him not completely recognising the person in front of me. What happened to the other Bucky?
I looked at all of him…together. A concerned feeling settled in my chest.
I thought about a way to approach him. I softened my tone and eyes
“Hey buck, Are you alright?” Bucky responded with a nod and a grunt. His face was expressionless, numb even.
Bucky pushed past me and quickly walked to his quarters. I instinctively ran after him. I approached his door to his room. And softly knocked on.
“Bucky..” I called apon him softly. There was no answer. I decided to push down on the handle, I wander into Bucky bedroom. It was dark and messy.
“Bucky?” I gently called out to him.
My eyes wandered throughout his room, until I saw his balcony doors were open, the curtains were softly blowing towards me, almost leading me onto the rail. I gulped hardly, I felt sick to my stomach, wandering what i could find. Hopefully an alive Bucky I thought.
As I got closer I saw a silhouette of a figure sat down. I breathed out a sigh of relief. I got closer to Bucky, Bucky didn’t even looked over to see who it was, he was curled up, leaning against the railing. A shiver went down my spine. I decided to sit down with him I sat the other side. Not once did he look at me, to which I found bizarre. I saw his Adam’s Apple bob up and down. He looked so tired…
I spoke up.
“I understand if you don’t want to talk. But I won’t be leaving you like this. We can just sit here in silence if that’s what you want. But just know that I’m here for you.” I placed a hand on his knee to let him know that I am actually here. I saw Buckys jaw clenched and his eyes quickly glance at me then to the hand on the knee.
Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes looking down. It looked like Bucky was having an internal conflict
“I can’t cope anymore.” I sat there in silence waiting for him to say more
“I hear there screams…there screams. The ones that I killed” his voice broke a little.
“There cries for me to stop, to have mercy on them. . They haunt me. Every goddamn face is attached to me in my dreams. There’s not one moment of peace where I get to just take a breath, without the reminder that I’ve killed someone.”
I nodded gently, still listening.
“I am….bearly…hanging on and nobody can see how much pain I am in.” The tears in his eyes began to fill, as his voice cracks.
“I just can’t do it…anymore.” Bucky broke down, his breathing became unsteady, as tears streamed down his face his chest rised up and down quickly, as I could hear him struggle to keep calm. I slowly moved myself closer to bucky. I cupped his hands, and brought them forward so he looks at me.
“James. Breathe.” My gaze was soft I looked him in his eyes, and took a breath, held it, and let it go.
He repeated the action. Slowly he began breathing more steadily.
“What was that?” Bucky asked, he averted eye contact.
“It was a panic attack.” I responded.
“Bucky look at me. You need to understand that you didn’t have a choice in becoming the winter soldier. What you did…it wasn’t your fault, You hear me?. You fought back for as long as you could. You did your best. You tried, and that’s all anyone could ask for.” My words were firm but reassuring. I saw buckys body somewhat relax, however I could tell he was still on guard.
“Can I hug you?” I asked, he looks like he could use one. Bucky slightly nodded.
I moved myself next to Bucky, I held my arms open. He moved in slowly, I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a tight squeeze. He let go first and instead rested his head on my shoulder.
“Your not alone James, you’ll always have someone in your corner even if you don’t think you do”
“Mhm” he responded, I looked over and saw that Bucky was drifting off, his eyes looked so heavy, he looked like he could just collapse at anytime.
“Come on buck. Let’s go to bed” I slowly began to stand up. I grabbed Buckys arm and hinted at him to stand up too. He reluctantly got up. I led him to his bed. To which he shook him head and said:
“No. I don’t sleep there.” He pointed at the floor I saw a thin cushion, and a blanket filled with holes. I turned around to him.
“I understand however, just for the rest of the morning sleep on the bed please” I compromised with him, hoping that it would get him to understand that sleeping on the bed for one night wouldn’t hurt him. He nodded. I pulled back the black duvet, Bucky sat down on the bed, and eventually laid down, I saw he had shoes and a jacket on so I took them both off, too make him slightly more comfortable. I placed the duvet over him, and moved the hair out of his face.
“Goodnight” I smiled.
“Wait. Could you stay here until I atleast fall asleep ? I would feel better if I had someone in the room…” he looked a tad guilty.
“Sure” I smiled. I went over the the cabinets and picked out a soft blanket. And made myself comfy on the small chair he had in the corner.
Eventually quiet snores could be heard from Bucky. I felt like I could take a breath. I felt tired as well, so I decided to take a nap..
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helllloooooo thank you for readingggggggg I hope it was okay :)
Goodbyeeee
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hazelsmirrorball · 5 months
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My Girlfriend is a Werewolf II | Hazel Callahan 
Pairings: werewolf! Hazel Callahan x fem! Reader 
Summary: People are going insane trying to kill the new werewolf in town due to the fact they have a big bounty attached to their head. Y/n desperately needs the money but Hazel is a little defensive of the fact that the trio wants to kill a werewolf.  Warnings: death, blood, werewolves. Not proof read. Sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my main language.  a/n: Part one and two back to back!!! Something for halloween! Hope you guys like it! I really love reading ur comments, they really make my day <3
part one
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The news that Y/n L/n had become an orphan spread like wildfire. News outlets covered the pair's death, getting to the point where there dead bodies were the cover of various news articles and news reports. It was a constant reminder to Y/n that her parents had been brutally killed and it was a constant reminder to Hazel that she killed her girlfriend's parents. 
Everywhere she went she could see the scared and lifeless eyes that looked at her, their screams as they begged for mercy kept her up at night. When she tried to get her thoughts onto something else she thought of her beautiful girlfriend and how her sweet innocent eyes resembled her parents. How she was the cause of her misery and her pain. Hazel had promised she was going to protect Y/n forever not be the reason for her suffering. Hazel knew that if Y/n found out who killed her parents they were done, the last piece of sanity she had would be gone forever. The only thing that actually made her human was going to slip out of her fingers. 
 People started to assume that the wolf that killed her parents knew about Y/n’s plan with her friends, it was like it was giving a warning to her family. Y/n felt guilty, like it was her fault that her parents were dead. Hearing those rumors made her think that maybe it was a warning, someone at school knew about their plan and how they wanted to kill the wolf to get the money. Hazel was right, she didn’t need to cross that territory, even if she was in desperate need of that money. 
Y/n had been devastated, she hadn’t left the comfort of her house for the past two weeks not wanting to see her reality. She found herself searching all over the house for clues or something to ease her pain. She had gained the courage to enter her parents room finding all types of weapons near a pin board table rested against the bed. Y/n spent the whole day reading the notes her parents left picking up the bits and pieces that they got wrong perfecting them. Y/n her hand hovered over each of the weapons deciding what was best for her vengeance. 
Her parents were dead because of that damn monster, and that piece of shit was going to pay. Y/n was going to kill that werewolf with her bare hands and nothing and no one was going to stop her. So she found herself at the school parking lot watching from afar how Josie, PJ and Hazel were in a conversation. Y/n took their appearances in as if she forgot how they looked the past two weeks. PJ and Josie look normal, maybe a little tired because of the lack of sleep but aside from that their familiar bruises from the fight club was still apparent. Y/n’s eyes turned to Hazel, she looked like she hadn’t slept in months. Her hair was barely brushed and her eye bags were dark. Hazel looked completely unhealthy mirroring Y/n’s appearance. 
Y/n walked towards them placing the duffle bag harshly on top of Hazel’s car making the three girls jump. Y/n harshly tried to open the duffle bag as PJ looked at her on edge. 
“What the hell, Y/n? You can’t sneak up on people like that. There’s people diy…” PJ stopped herself quickly knowing that even for her she was going too far. She let out a long sigh and walked towards her to pull her into a hug but Y/n pushed her away pulling a gun out of the bag. Both Josie and PJ fell to the floor while Hazel's eyes stayed glued to the floor not wanting to face Y/n. 
“What the fuck, Y/n! Since when do you own a fucking gun” Josie exclaimed looking up from her arms. Y/n pointed the gun down while waiting for the girls to stand up. PJ and Josie hesitantly stood up wanting for Y/n to say a word. 
“I found this in my parents room. The bullets are filled with wolfsbane. Wolfsbane is like this herb that will burn and weaken a werewolf. If it reaches their heart it kills the werewolf. It’s like their biggest weakness” Y/n said while showing the bullet to her friends. Josie and PJ stared at the bullets while Hazel looked at Y/n worriedly, knowing where this conversation was going to start. 
“But why did your parents have wolfsbane? Were they hunting your parents or..?” Josie started but Y/n shook her head passing her some letters. She let out a sigh as she placed the gun inside the bag once again. Hazel looked in the bag inspecting everything that was inside while the girls looked at the letters. 
“My parents were thinking about killing the werewolf to get the money. They had been doing research ever since the first killing. I guess they stopped for a while but when they saw that in a few weeks they were going to take away our house they decided to say  fuck it to the plan, which got them killed.” Y/n said, while playing with her lips. Hazel looked up from the bag closing it. 
“So what do you want to do? Take all those things and kill that mother fucker?” PJ exclaimed while smiling maniacally but before Y/n could even agree Hazel stepped in shaking her head. 
“Are you guys fucking insane? What the hell is going to get you guys to drop the werewolf thing. It’s killing people and you guys aren’t professionals, forget that damn money and stay home” Hazel exclaimed angrily, taking Y/n by the arm making her look at Hazel. 
“Oh, that’s easy for you to fucking say Hazel” Y/n replied dryling staring directly in her eyes. 
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean” Hazel inbetween gritted teeth as her grip on Y/n’s arm became tighter. 
“News flash Hazel not all of us had money coming out of our asses when we were born. Now if you don’t want to be helpful than fucking leave, Josie, PJ and I will go take care of that werewolf while you stay inside like a little pussy” Y/n said taking her arm out of Hazel’s grasp and sending a glare her way. Hazel let out an unhumorous laugh turning towards Y/n. 
“Go ahead, get killed like your parents.  See if I fucking care, at least now you’ll be with them in better conditions than right now” As those words slip out of Hazel’s mouth she instantly regretted it. Y/n’s face fell as PJ let out a gasp. Before Hazel could even get out a river of apologies Y/n took the duffle back and headed away from the parking lot, leaving the three girls frozen in their places.  Hazel saw as Y/n bodies disappeared into the wilderness in front of them knowing how the night was going to be. 
The cold airy night breeze hit Y/n’s bare skin as she looked around the forest. She hated how vulnerable she felt knowing that being here meant that a few feet away from her was where her parents got killed and surrounding her had to be the werewolf that killed them. Y/n placed her duffle back down as she pulled the gun out circling the area around her. She was getting her revenge and the money. She was going to live the happy life that her parents wanted her to live. She will live near a beach with Hazel and her friends. All she wanted was to be happy. 
Her thoughts got cut off by some branches breaking behind her, she slowly turned with her eyes closed, the fear finally clicking in her body. She fluttered her eyes open seeing the wolf in front of her. It took slow steps approaching her, different from all the news articles that said they were violent and vicious. To her it looked like a cute puppy getting to know their new owner instead of a vicious monster that had killed her parents. 
As it got closer to Y/n she didn’t hesitate pulling the trigger while closing her eyes. When she didn’t hear anything come out she looked inside noticing that there were no bullets she desperately searched for the duffle bag but all she could feel were the branches and leaves surrounding her and in an instant she felt her body being completely pinned down against the floor. Y/n started hyperventilating as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Y/n looked into the werewolf's eyes. Hazel was right, she should’ve listened to her. 
Before Y/n could scream for help the yellow eyes that glow in front of her changed into a familiar pair of blue. The once big weight that was on top of her as she saw how the vicious monster turned into her beautiful girlfriend. Y/n noticed how Hazel sent her a small smile but instantly she pushed her away not wanting to look her in the eyes. Hazel noticed that look, Y/n was disgusted, disgusted by her. Hazel slowly reached for Y/n hand but she quickly backed away in fear. 
“Don’t touch me, Hazel” Y/n said barely audible but thanks to her super hearing Hazel was able to hear her. 
“Please don’t do this, Y/n. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise” Hazel replied as tears started forming in her eyes. She started to get closer but Y/n quickly picked up a silver knife covered in wolfsbane showing it to her making Hazel stop dead in her tracks. 
“Don’t you dare get near me. I won’t hesitate to stab you with this, Hazel” Y/n said while closing her eyes in pain, not waiting to see who really was the werewolf that people had been searching for months. 
“I swear I am not going to hurt you, Y/n. Please I love you, I would never do anything to hurt you” Hazel exclaimed loudly as she looked at Y/n with sad eyes. Y/n let out a dry sarcastic laugh as more tears spilled from her eyes. 
“You would never do anything to hurt me? What about my fucking parents. They are dead and it’s all your fucking fault. I’ve been blaming myself these past few weeks trying to find a way to get revenge of that wer- on you. You killed my parents Hazel. How do you care about me and would do anything to keep me safe. You are a fucking monster” Y/n yelled picking her things up as she held onto the knife tightly. Hazel stayed in her spot seeing how Y/n walked even further. All she could hear was the faint noise of Y/n words repeating what she said. 
Hazel Callahan was a monster. 
previous part
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thank you so much for reading
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touyasdoll · 2 years
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Look At Me
pairing: Dabi/Touya x villain!reader
word count: 2.1k (I wrote something. I actually wrote something!! I could cry sjdhdhsb)
warnings: sad, but there is a happy ending bc he deserves one. violence, gore, murder, burns, stabbing, abuse (not at the hands of Touya), reader is gravely injured, near death experience, lots of talk of death, claustrophobia? being blinded? trying to cover my bases here. angst in general. bnha spoilers.
notes: inspired by this ask. reader has a “voodoo doll” quirk. basically, Queenie’s power from AHS: Coven. as long as the reader is looking at their target when they activate their quirk, they can transfer any and all physical sensations and consequences that they are currently experiencing to said target. for example, if Dabi sets them on fire while they are looking at someone and their quirk is active, they do not burn, nor do they feel it, but their target does.
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It makes sense that you and Dabi work together so closely. Your quirks work well together. All you have to do is look at your enemy and then he can set you ablaze, effectively killing whoever is unfortunate enough to be within your line of sight. He doesn’t have to overexert himself and you prove yourself useful to the League in no time. Everybody wins.
Then, of course, you start getting closer to your new partner and, despite every effort that he makes to avoid this exact scenario, he starts getting closer to you too. He grows attached. The word makes his skin crawl. He can’t believe that he let himself become involved with anyone, let alone someone who was out there fighting on the front lines for the cause, literally right beside him.
It's dangerous work. You know that. He knows that. You both accept it. One day breezes into the next and you grow closer still. It's only natural. It's an evolution of sorts; the two of you learning more about one another, learning each other’s strengths and weaknesses—both on the battlefield and off. You come to trust each other with your very lives. Begin to see how both of yours could intertwine.
And then you both realize that they already have. It seems like you simply crossed paths one day and now you’re intrinsically linked to one another. One tragic tale woven into the pages of another, creating a whole new forgotten fairytale that you’re both praying will have a happy ending somehow.
But then it happens. Someone figures it out. They find your weakness and they take full advantage. You’re blinded. Something’s obstructing your view and you don’t have any idea what’s going on. Touya was right there. He was right there, but you can’t see him now and you’re panicking. You can’t use your quirk if you can’t see. You can’t protect him if you can’t see.
That's when you feel it. The knife in your gut.
Touya was right there.
And he was. He was right there. He turned his back for a second and when he looks back he realizes that that was all it took for him to be on the verge of losing you. He already knows that he can’t forgive himself. You’re hurt. You’re scared. He knows that and he knows it’s his fault.
He burns the assailants who’d tried to get the drop on him to a crisp, forgoing any thought of restraining himself now that he knew that you were in danger. He makes quick work of prying your attacker off of you, channeling the inferno of rage swirling around inside of him into his palm, igniting the man as he shoves him aside, leaving him to burn while he runs to you.
He catches you as you stagger forward, pulling the cloth sack off of your head and gently guiding you to kneel instead of letting you fall, but the shock of feeling your warm blood pouring into his palm is almost enough to send him straight to the ground with you. He stares at you with wide eyes, too afraid to look down at the crimson seeping into the white of his shirt as he cradles you, pulling you into his lap while you stare up at him with eyes that are fading much too quickly for his liking.
He briefly wonders if it’s possible to die from a broken heart.
And then he wonders why you aren’t using your quirk. There’s no one left within sight now. You’d long been separated from your allies and the remaining enemies were fleeing. But he's right here. You’re looking right at him. He can take this from you. He can handle it. Hell, it’s his fucking fault. Why aren’t you using it? He asks you why. Tells you—no—begs you to use it. To save yourself. He's been through worse before. He's sure that he’ll be okay.
He’s not, but he’d rather die a hundred times over than to watch you suffer for one second more.
But you won’t. You refuse. It’s a matter of flicking a switch, but you know that you could never inflict any pain onto him. To others, sure. Without remorse. But to him? Never. He's had more than enough of that for one lifetime. You won’t contribute to it. You’ll be okay. You hope that you will, at least. You can’t die on him. You can’t leave him alone. Not again.
You’d do anything for him. Anything but what he’s asking you to do right now. His body has been through worse. It’s been through one nightmare after another and that’s exactly why you cannot do what he is imploring you to. What if it killed him? What if you killed him? You would rather die, but the pain is becoming so unbearable that part of you almost wishes that you would already. The feeling of his hand squeezing yours shoots your drooping eyes back open.
“Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t you fucking dare die on me right now,” he spits the words through grit teeth. Pain masked as anger. His favorite costume to don.
“M’not going to,” you quietly reply. Too quiet. Too soft. “I’ll be okay, Touya.”
Your eyelids are too heavy. They flutter closed again and your reassurance carries no weight to a man who’s have the very ground he treads on crumble beneath his feet one too many times.
“Look at me,” he commands. He’s through requesting. “Doll, I said look. at. me.”
“I can’t,” you shake your head, but the motion is ever so slight. The pulse that was hammering in your ears is barely perceptible to you now.
“You can,” he insists, feeling the last shreds of sanity that are tethering him to this plane of existence being snipped, one by one. “You have to. Look at me.”
“I won’t hurt you, Touya. I promised,” you whisper as your eyes do open for him, but they’re even more dull now and it terrifies him.
“I’m asking you to. I’m begging you to,” he pleads, ruby red tears seeping from the patches beneath his eyes.
His hand squeezes yours again as he pulls it to his chest, placing your palm to his chest where you can feel the seam that rests atop his heart. The heart that beats for you and you only. The heart that had run for so, so long on spite alone that he had almost forgotten what it was like to live for something, rather than living in spite of another.
“Please,” his voice cracks. Breaks under the insurmountable pressure of being faced with yet another unknown. He wants to let this unknown remain. He never wants to know a life without you again. “Please, doll. Look at me. You know what I mean. Do it. I can take it.”
“That doesn’t mean that you should,” your lips twitch into the faintest of smiles as your hand rubs his chest with what little strength you still have. Feeling the staples beneath your palm brings you the slightest comfort. The feeling of home sitting just beneath your hand. The familiar thump that lulls you to sleep each night, now lulling you into what might be your final slumber.
Your eyes close again and terror strikes his heart when he realizes that it might be for the last time. He thought that he knew what fear was the first time his father struck him. He thought that he knew what fear was when he was burning to death, too out of control to save himself. But now he knows. True fear is thinking that he might never be able to look into your eyes again.
“I can. I can do it, doll, please,” he croaks the words out, a broken plea made to ears that can barely hear him now.
You’re too focused on the beating of his heart. Your favorite sound in the world. So long as it’s still beating, he’s still here. So long as he’s still here, you have to be here too.
“You weren’t made to carry every burden you come across, Touya,” your eyes open just enough to look at him and you reach up to cup his face in your hand, gingerly wiping away the crimson tears sliding down his face. He holds his breath, his eyes boring down into yours. “I know that you think that’s love, but it isn’t, baby,” you manage a tender smile, but it’s interrupted by a cough that spatters blood along your lips and chin as your hand moves to cover the spray, smattering it with the viscous liquid as well.
“Doll, don’t—”
“I’m okay,” you cut him off, your hand resting on top of his now, the one resting on your abdomen, bunching up the fabric of your clothing to apply pressure to your wound. He was the only thing keeping you together, in more ways than one now.
“That isn’t love, Touya. Love is more than what you can do for someone. It’s more than destroying yourself to prove that you’re worthy of their time. Love is more than serving a purpose to someone. It’s being their purpose,” you whisper, your voice growing smaller by the second. There’s only so much air left in your lungs and you know exactly how to spend it.
A blissful smile crosses your lips as the pain finally begins to fade and you stare straight up into his eyes to tell him, “You’re mine.”
“Doll,” he chokes on the word. He’s choking on nothing. Your eyes are closing again and he can’t breathe anymore. He can’t breathe without knowing that you’re still breathing too.
“Doll, stay with me!” His voice is frantic, desperate as he presses an ear to your chest, listening for even the softest thud within and he finds one. He heaves a sigh of momentary relief, his forehead resting against your chest as the tears still trickling down from his scars fill the fabric of your shirt.
“Look at me,” he begs once more, but his voice is muddled and then it’s swallowed by one that you think you recognize, but you can’t be certain.
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That’s the last thing that you can recall. It’s the first thing that you remember when you wake with a start. You’re alive. At least, it seems like you are. The dull walls are a familiar sight and there’s an even more familiar scent in the air: smoke.
“Doll?” Touya practically jumps from the chair beside your bed and you can see a blurry outline of him in your peripheral vision. “Doll, I’m right here,” he says as he takes your hand, overjoyed to see you awake. To see you alive. “Look at me, baby.”
And you do. You turn your head and there he is. Touya’s right there. “M’never gonna take my eyes off you again,” you grin, giving his hand a squeeze before you use it to tug him closer. “C’mere,” you murmur, carefully making room for him in the bed that you always share.
You certainly felt better. Tired, but better. Upon inspection, you find that there’s no bandages to be found on your torso.
“What happened?” You ask as he climbs into the bed beside you, slowly encompassing you in his arms as he pulls you closer.
“Kurogiri showed up right after you passed out,” he informs you as he kisses the top of your head. “Thank fuck he had a healer on standby, otherwise I don’t..” he trails off. He can’t think about it again.
“I’m just so glad that you’re okay. I’m never taking my eyes off of you again either. Not for a second,” he murmurs against your scalp, littering it with more kisses as his fingertips glide along your arm and you relax, content to be in his arms again—and not bleeding out this time.
You smile and allow yourself to give in, relaxing into his embrace without worry. You have that luxury now and you’ll certainly never take it for granted again.
“Hey, doll?” He asks after a moment, his tone as soft as you’ve ever heard it.
“Hm?” You hum, tilting your head back to look up into his bright, blue eyes.
“You’re mine too,” he says with such an ease that you could never think to question it as he rests his hand on your cheek, gently cupping your face and guiding you into a kiss.
You smile against his mismatched lips, your hand falling atop his chest, the staples beneath your palm pulsing with each beat of his heart. A heart that beats with purpose.
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likes, comments, & reblogs are always greatly appreciated! <33 thank you so much for reading <3
tag list: @tinymaru @kinjuutsu @cinnamon-n-roses @owofi @pureofheartaudio @senaraphoenix @kellyyween @jeanappetit @ramenaddicted @weebaboobs @dukina @doodledoll @l-ovey @crystal-lilac @imkumichan @cyancherub @lovemegood
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kentoswifewritingblog · 5 months
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Kento's thoughts: his lover is not okay.
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you look inconsolable, and my help is futile.
your blank expression tells me more than your words could ever do.
“i feel nothing.” you said, “i'm shattered to the point of being nullified.”
i listened, attentively, as if the solution could be found in your words, as if your soul breaking, empty voice could contain the key to solve every single one of your problems.
something, selfish and greedy of protagonism, was thrumming in the back of my head hoping that key would bring my name.
am i not good enough to make you happy?
but i knew better, i knew much better than that.
you've been troubled all your life, you never had anything even nearly related to happiness.
“i was just a kid.” you tell me.
i tried to take your suffering away from you, but just like a curse, it has gotten attached to you and it just wouldn't leave you.
and it made me feel so powerless, knowing that even with all my experience, i will never be able to exorcise the pain within you.
you, with the warmest smile, the coolest personality, the greatest taste, the many interesting hobbies, the incredible amount of fun facts.. and the biggest amount of anger i've ever seen.
it was all you had left.
“there's nothing anymore here, you feel it?”
you brought my hand on your chest, right where your heart was beating. it's warm, but cold.
you look fine: your face has no trace of sadness, or any other negative emotions. but there's a couple of wrinkles where they're not supposed to be.
your smile lines have become so evident, even when you're not smiling.
how much do you have in that body of yours that it's still kept undisclosed? what's the amount of sadness you bring within yourself since you were just 12?
you don't remember the last time you were able to cry.
i remember how it left an impression on me, when i asked you to be my lifetime lover, and not a tear left your eyes. i saw your expression change into a moved one and you were happy, undoubtedly so, but you never cried, not a single time.
“i'm so sorry” you keep repeating to me, as if it's your fault. “i wish i could cry, i wish i could show you the pain that i can't feel anymore”
“and i wish i could cure you of this illness, i wish i could snap my fingers and make you feel okay” i quickly replied, “you have nothing to apologise for”
you're everything i have left.
i told you about my best friend, about geto, about gojo, about me. i told you about my first job, and then i told you about the one i ran away from. you listened to me, i saw the worry and empathy in your eyes grow more and more with each word i spoke, like my thoughts were gold flowing your way, as if all those things were to be kept in a chest and guarded by a dragon.
god, im such a nerd.
but you love it. i told you about how much i loved to play with legos as a kid, i told you about my favourite character i played with on street fighter, the hours i spent organising my yu-gi-oh cards, and all the band posters in my room.
and you loved it. you told me that you were so glad you met me, someone with your same interests.
we listen to metal music together, and while you dance all around the room, i look at you.
you're so beautiful.
you're the most beautiful person in the world.
but that's so cliché! my mind tells me, but i ignore it: you're the most beautiful person in the world.
the love on your face when you give me a crown made with sticky notes; the tiktok videos you send me with those little drawn bunnies doing silly things, with the caption "it's so us"; the expression you make when you want to convince me to do my makeup; the "babe i think you'd love this song!”.
you love me, and i feel it.
i feel so loved, i feel so wanted. and i'm so proud of being yours, i'm so happy to say you're mine, that you're my lover, that the ring on your finger was mine to give you.
and i love you, i love you with every single ounce of my body, i love you how the leaves love the trees enough to sacrifice themselves so the tree can live. i love you, i love you so much.
but that is not enough to make you happy now.
it's not enough to make your heart be overflowing with all the emotions that a human has.
you let me read your diary once, that you kept since you were 15. it was horrifying.
a kid should never feel this way.
i asked you if i could write down some things you had written there, with the promise of never letting anyone see them. you said yes.
— i want to crack my ribcage open and rip myself apart.
— i knew my skin, that wrapped my frame, wasn't made to play this game, and then i saw them, torch in hand, he laid it out, what he had planned, and then i said, i'll take the grave, please don't send them on my way.
— i could pull the steering wheel
— the very existence of the self is the seeking of a pain that has never seen beginning nor end.
these were the most impressive to me. you had so much within yourself and i never knew, i never knew the heartbreak you've been carrying for so long.
i'm scared to touch you, i'm scared to break you.
you talk to me in the most normal tone ever, because you tell me that “even if i wanted to i can't feel bad, or sad, or anything other than angry. i only get angry.”
i feel something in my stomach that i can't describe.
my vision gets blurry, and my heart skips a bit.
fear?
do you still love me?
an irrational thought comes to my head as soon as you open up to me. if you feel nothing, does it mean you don't feel anything for me anymore?
before i can ever formulate any sentence, your hands cup my face, and you kiss my forehead.
“please don't cry my baby, i can't stand it when you're sad, it makes me feel so bad” you pouted.
i sniffled. your fingertips are cold, but i still melt with your touch, feeling immediately reassured.
“i'm sorry, i just.. i think i got so caught up in how you felt that i felt it myself.”
“then i'll take it that your tears are just the ones i wish i could cry.” you smile.
“yes, that could be an idea.” i smile black. i kiss your lips. i hold you close.
you snuggle a bit more on the couch, until we're practically glued together. your socks and your favourite blanket, covering the both of us, is making this so cozy. i take a deep breath, and i let it all out.
we're okay.
you're gonna be okay, because i'm gonna make it so. i wanna see you feel. i wanna see you cry all the tears you want. i wanna see you abandon that diary of yours and let it rot in the back of your wardrobe where you keep it hidden, with all those terrible things, i want you to forget about it because you'll be so happy you won't have anything bad to write in there anymore.
i wanna put everything back in your ribcage the way it's supposed to be.
“babe, can we go to the movies later? there's a movie I wanna watch” you ask me, about to fall asleep.
it's 2pm, we finished lunch just an hour ago.
“sure, love.” i kiss your forehead.
as long as i wish i could do all of those things right now, i know it takes time. i'm going to protect you, love. i'm gonna protect you like i could never protect my loved ones. i'm going to give all myself in order to keep you, my source of happiness, with me forever.
i love you. so much.
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justpeaxchy · 2 years
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(sorry, sorry, but here's another recommended song!!)
You were majestic in his eyes -- a piece of art that would be too expensive to buy. Someone who seems untouchable, yet drawing everyone's attention.
Todoroki knew this even as the prince. He often watched you leave the castle with the basket in your hands, flowers of all different kinds scattered in it - or what's left anyway.
You were "just" supposed to be the "flower girl", or in other words the one who came to replace the flowers almost every other week. His father was kind enough to let you stay on the days you came to work, providing food and a luxurious room before you left again. It was the same process. He hadn't even discovered you until he bumped into you one day.
He just so happened to be coming back from an exhausting training session with his father, leaving him angered and tired. Sure, learning self defense and knowing how to use a sword would come in at a good time but it didn't feel like that would happen if he was barely let out of the castle.
He was grumbling all the way back to his room, the long hallways teasing him about how far of a walk it was just to get to his bed. His eyes weren't focused on his surroundings, rather the red carpet that decorated the floors, resulting in an accident he never expected.
You came rushing out from the corner he was going to turn, a basket of white flowers wobbling in your hand before you crashed into the prince who was too distracted by the ground. It all happened in mere seconds, leaving you dumbfounded. You completely didn't realize you had just ran into the soon-to-be king.
You groaned softly, the impact leaving your head spinning for longer than you wanted before the realization hit you. How could you do that?
'The flowers!'
Without a second wasted, you jolted up, your hair in a mess, quickly turning to check on your flowers you had just brought. They were one of the freshly grown ones from your village and you didn't plan on destroying them anytime soon. But when you saw a few of them smashed from the accident, your lips slowly formed into a frown. It hurt you more than someone would think. Flowers were something you cherished.
"Pardon."
The voice brought you out of your trance, your face melting into one of horror. You could recognize that voice from anywhere. This had to be a joke, right? Your head slightly turned towards the one and only prince that stood before you, his expression stoic as always. If you looked close enough you thought there was a flash of anger behind it but you swiftly took your basket and made your feet stand.
"Prince! I..uh.. I'm so sorry! Please forgive me I had no idea that was you. It was my fault for rushing like that, I promise I won't run in the halls again-" You continuously bowed, the flowers in your basket swaying with each movement of your body. Todoroki had to calm himself from having another headache so he brushed you off.
"Just don't do it again, alright?" His voice was surprisingly softer this time, a ping of somberness attached to it. You immediately froze in place, letting him walk past you. For a moment you felt the fabric of his shirt pass by your sleeve but he was already off to his destinated area, leaving you left with no words.
It wasn't everyday you ran into someone with high authority -- the only thing close to that was introducing yourself to the king very briefly to explain why you were doing your job at his palace.
You shook your head, lips still in a frown as you walked off, the two of you going separate ways.
-----------------------------------------------.
As todoroki finally stepped foot into his room, he collapsed on the bed that awaited him all day. Each new morning felt like a chore, repeating the same schedule over and over again just to be scolded by a father who could care less about him and he feels. All for the money and power.
He promised himself that he wouldn't become like that. He never wanted that for his future, if he even had one. He's gotten so used to people faking their own personalities around him just because he's the son of the king, he doesn't know who's real and fake anymore. Other than his siblings of course. Though they often went out of the castle for "Kingdom matters." It left him alone most of the time, wanting the attention from a loved one he hardly got to experience.
It was a couple of minutes before he eventually got up from his bed, groggily looking around the room before he noticed something. White flowers were placed on his window seal, bringing the eery scenery some enlightenment. They were eye-catching, although they were plain white, it was the pureness they held that got his attention. For a moment he recognized them.
Weren't those the ones he saw when he ran into you? He recalled seeing that same color in the basket you held. He also remembered the way you frantically apologized to him over something so small. Another thing that he didn't particularly like about people.
But he did remember your face slightly. Even if it was just for a couple of seconds, he was sure to catch some of your features. He assumed you were the one who took care of the flowers in the castle because he heard of someone now taking care of that matter but he never got to meet them -- or in this case, you.
He remembered your long eyelashes, the village-like dress you wore, the color of your hair, and your hands. He particularly noticed how small they were.
He found himself in a daze, wondering who exactly you were. He knew what you looked like to a certain point, but who were you? His eyes danced along the flowers, admiring their beauty in the sunset.
Just for a minute, he wondered if he would ever see you again.
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smittenroses · 2 years
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hi i saw requests was open-
uh
unrequited love with Joseph, Aesop and Eli?
on uh our side
please, thanks ^-^
(also i just realised i wasn’t following u, sorry)
Unrequited Love — Joseph, Aesop and Eli
Cw: yandere-like behaviour in the form of obsessiveness, delusions, light self harm and hints of murder (Aesop), obsession (rational), unhealthy power dynamics and isolation (Joseph).
Please skip their parts if you do not enjoy Yandere-like behaviours as it's a central theme of their parts for reasons that become quite clear.
Also please remember (after the last time I posted dark Aesop headcanons): I am an autistic person myself and thus use my experience for writing him, and Aesop's behaviours are not a result of his autism in canon, they are a result of his upbringing with Jerry Carl, and I am simply putting my spin on his behaviours.
I will not hesitate to block if people come to me saying that I am demonising Aesop's autism.
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Joseph Desaulniers | The Photographer
Joseph Desaulniers is a man that grew up refined, gentlemanly and... very lonely; after the passing of his brother, he struggled to even form friendships or even register any sort of affections as being comforting. He knew deep within his soul that Claude would want him to eventually move on but its quite difficult when it comes to the fact he spent his entire life trying to find a way to bring him back in order to try and secure a happiness he thought he forever lost.
When you had walked into his life, he thought that you were a gift sent by the gods above — maybe even his brother too — as you lit a spark deep within his shrivelled and decaying heart. He practically began to worship the ground you walked on deep within his mind as you laughed, you cried, you looked at him and he couldn't help but find himself melting. It was the happiest he had ever been since the passing of his brother
That's why his heart shattered immediately when you told him that you could not reciprocate his feelings. It scattered on the floor and was stomped by a million elephants, but yet somewhere deep in his mind he was sort of relieved that you had been so honest about it — he knew that in his mind, you had become simply a replacement for Claude, someone that he knew would never be able to come back no matter how much he would try over, and over, and over again.
Even if he knew it was wrong, he still couldn't help but crave for your touch, for your conversation and watching as you would interact with others caused for his thoughts to darken. You were your own person, yes, but it was quite different when others could have what he didn't: your affection.
As a hunter, he held a significant amount of power over those little survivor friends of yours. Maybe he could convince them to stay away.
Aesop Carl | The Embalmer
Aesop... getting attached to someone is quite alarming at first given his tendency to stay away from people, hell, it even alarms himself when he realises that he strays away from his routine just for one silly person! Whenever he gets infatuated with someone it quickly turns into a disaster so many tend to keep their distance. It doesn't take long until he eventually will lose interest.
It isn't his fault he acts this way; Jerry never showed him how to hold and maintain relationships beyond business matters, so when the need to be loved, to be held, to be seen as someone more than a teammate creeps its way into the crevices of Aesop's brain, it easily becomes dark.
He tends to confuse parental affection and lover affection easily.
It seems that you didn't get the memo about avoiding becoming the Embalmer's latest fixation as the more that Aesop got to know you, the more he fell and those dark thoughts began to swirl around in his head, swirl around, and around, and around until you couldn't get out of his head! You're on his mind 24/7, you're running laps and making him giddy.
You witnessed his first outburst when you rejected him, watching as he slammed his beloved makeup case to the floor and the contents of it spilling out all over the carpet of the manor, quickly gathering the attention of the other survivors as they rushed to separate you from the man. He didn't mean to scare you, he really didn't, but hearing that you didn't reciprocate his feelings made him so mad.
He watched as you were dragged out of sight by Norton as Ada attempted to calm him down, that his behaviour was unacceptable as he stuffed his fingers in his mouth, chewing on already broken skin and nail. No, he loved you and you loved him, why didn't you see it yet?
Maybe he might need to show you his gift sooner than he liked. You needed to know how much he adored you... He never asks for much, please, he needs you.
Eli Clark | The Seer
This man is the only one out of the three that was able to learn how to form healthy relationships in his time outside of the manor so if he's the one interested in you, thank fuck.
He's missing Gertrude dearly and the fact that you remind him so much of her sends his heart aflutter in his chest so much that Brooke Rose has to tell him to calm down before he gives himself a literal stroke.
Probably the sweetest one since he'll do anything and everything in his power to make sure that you're happy and that you are able to go to him for anything. He values himself on being helpful, visions or not.
Probably foretold to himself that you would reject him and was oddly calm when you said 'no', but either way he was still smiling when he said "Then we can still be friends?"
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misscammiedawn · 1 year
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50 Days of HypnoFetish - Day 8: Cognitohazards
Alignment: 70% Top, should be higher but that god damned Silver Crystal is too powerful.
Imagine, if you will, the most entrancing object in the world. Something which is so powerfully hypnotic that there is not a single thing that you can do to prevent yourself from being ensnared by it. Once is is present, your eyes are caught and captivated. Your mind is no longer your own. You are open, vulnerable... helpless.
That is the concept of a cognitohazard. Though if you would like, a more suitable term may actually be "Fetish". Specifically the dictionary definition:
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IE: an item imbued with power that takes a hypnotic focus and turns it into an object which either has magical power, is regarded with extravagant trust/reverence, is an object of obsessive devotion, is psychologically necessary for sexual gratification or is just a fixation.
I will not play with option 1.c, but if there are those out there who want to make it so your partner cannot climax until they see their fetish, then you go ahead and take that one for free. Tell them Miss Dawn sent you.
I am much more interested in 2 and 1a and 1b.
The thing that makes a cognitohazard hot in comparison to a typical eye-focus tool is that there is an energy shift the moment the tool is brought in to play. Even the implied presence of it can alter how a scene is progressing. It's like bringing a nuke to a water gun fight.
Teasing the fact that there is an instant win on the table can be fun for getting reactions. Particularly if one is paired up with a brat. It can be a way of promising a partner that soon they will be peaceful and still and blank.
I also just like the way people react. Their face being stripped of all power and energy in a moment. Focused intently. Captivated. Bespelled.
It's so good.
At Beguiled 2022 I purchased a fairly large purple crystal from @enscenic which I believe was originally a dangling piece of a chandelier. I attached it to a chain and have trained it so that when Sleepyhead sees it she is instantly pulled in, her thoughts becoming trapped inside the "crystal".
Watching how quickly she can go from animated to fully entranced is just lovely. I simply cannot get enough of that power rush. There is a time and a place for a slow and sensual seduction as soft sounds swiftly sway the senses... and there is a time for an artifact so powerful that it must be hidden.
Originally this trigger was fairly open, but Sleepyhead once saw it laying on my bedside table and collapsed onto the bed in a manner I was not prepared for. I felt deeply irresponsible when that happened and with prompting and aid from Daja I locked it behind the term "held with intention."
Now, "playing within the rules" is a big theme of my play style. It's a reason why I cannot be 100% in charge. I need to work within framework. It's a weakness of mine. But it is a weakness which I often turn in to a strength.
Once I know what the rules are, I am allowed to bend them and see how flexible they are within the boundaries of good fun.
There's "Do not touch below my waist" "So let's see how high up your thigh I can touch" bending of rules, which is seeking to violate the spirit of the boundary and is unacceptable.
Then there's "You are not allowed to drop for this magical item without the permission of intention." "...so if I leave it on my bedside table and see you notice it and say "you know, I left it there, knowing you would see it...", that still counts as intent, right?" that's playful and trying to stretch the limits of the game.
The difference, I suppose, is honoring the spirit of the limitation. With this one it's "I want to make sure you are safe and only drop to this magical and irresistible talisman that overwhelms your thoughts when I want you to."
I get to select when I want that. It's not my fault you assumed that would only happen by me overtly showing it to you.
One day of this challenge is going to be Fae Play. I am looking forward to explaining in depth why I am Fae.
Now I could talk about the fun I have in this arena, and I will on another date, but let's stick to cognitohazards.
There's one that is so powerful that it could knock me out from Top Space. Just seeing it was enough to bring me deep, regardless of headspace. Which is a remarkable accomplishment.
It's a replica of the Silver Crystal from Sailor Moon.
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It requires intention these days, but if you ever wish to turn a sweet and soft ginger into a puddle, show her that.
Intention can be using a pause trigger to make my mind and body freeze in place, take my hand, place the chain of the crystal in my fingers and unpause with it right in front of my face.
Heavens that one got me.
It's a remarkably effective tool.
Oh and there are 2 of them. Both Sleepyhead and Daja own one. Once they teamed up in a hotel room to show me both at once. A top tier moment in a sweet Sunrise's life, I assure you.
They are my favorite. And though there are other tokens which have power imbued into them, I only have one cognitohazard and keeping that mythology imbues it with power. It makes it understood that this object is powerful and controlling and irresistible.
Very much like a fetish. Its power comes from the belief and the belief is reinforced by the use.
I adore them.
Here's what they each look like by the way.
The Silver Crystal that Daja and Sleepyhead each own:
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And my purple crystal:
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Day 7: Forehead Stimulation
FULL SCHEDULE MASTER POST
Day 9: Music Control
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