𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫
f!reader x Personal Trainer!James
summary: reader has a massive crush on PT!James
cw: working out, weight training, pointed out muscle definition
"You've got three more, for sure." James urges you on, looking far too relaxed for your liking where he stands above you, his arms crossed over his chest and his stupidly big muscles bulging against his thermal long sleeve.
Your abdominal muscles feel like they're ripping apart. If you weren't concerned about the ten kilogram kettlebell falling from where it's raised above your head and cracking your skull open, you'd consider throwing it at James' stupidly amused face. You raise your legs, put them back down and James counts, "Two more."
It takes every bit of energy, every morsel of motivation to finish the final set of leg raises, and you allow the kettlebell to tumble out of your grasp and to the left with a loud exhale of pain. You've been attending Personal Training with James long enough to not be embarrassed about the groan that follows, or the way you curl up into a ball. It's nearing the end of your hourly session, and James laughs at your dramatics. "You're not gonna catch your breath with your lungs constricted like that." He chides, and his hands comes into view.
You grumble, hating that you know he's right. Your muscles squeeze uncomfortably as he helps you up, despite you allowing him to take most of your weight. You've seen him workout, before, you know he pulls double your body weight with ease. He smiles wide when you're standing, gives you a little tug until you're stumbling closer to him. He smells like the gym, a little bit of woodsy cologne.
Your cheeks heat and you release his hand with a quiet, "Thanks." It's not like you're blind, James is beautiful. He's ripped and he's tanned, and his hair is stupidly soft. But it doesn't help that he's cheeky and funny, or that he's such a nice guy you always feel guilty for the profanities you spew at him on shoulder and back day. James picks up your abandoned kettlebell with ease and sets it on the bench you've claimed in the small studio gym.
"You good to hit legs for a couple before we finish?" James asks, and you know you don't have much of a choice because he's already turned and is walking towards the barbell weights in the corner.
You hum, reaching for your bottle of water, "Sure."
James lifts two twenty kilogram plates and walks them over to where you're standing. You try not to look at the way his muscles pop with the weights in each hand and James pretends not to notice you growing flustered. He sets them down next to each other and does the same again. By the time he's done, you've caught your breath.
"Elevated Sumo Squats," He gives you a knowing grin. He's fully aware how much you hate these, and he's unapologetic about it. "You know the drill, foot on each set of plates, squat until the kettlebell touches the floor."
You nod, "'Kay."
James holds out a hand as you step onto the weight plates, careful they don't slip out from under you and then hands you the kettlebell. "Try for ten. If you get to ten, we'll go for twelve."
You huff, a smile playing at your lips, "Just say try for twelve, James."
"Okay," James grins, "Go for twelve."
With a petulant eye roll, you start. The first set is never the problem, and James knows this. He watches you closely, an eye on your form at all times. You try not to think about the fact half of his job is staring at your ass, and you definitely try not to wonder if he likes what he sees. Sleeping with your Personal Trainer would be wildly inappropriate. You know James takes his job seriously, but it's hard not to imagine such things when he's standing over you muttering affirmations and praise. It's even harder when he reaches forwards, his fingertips grazing the top of your ass cheek, his voice low as he murmurs, "Keep your head up, back straight. You'll feel it more here."
You nod, mouth dry. "Like this?"
James nods at your corrected form. "That's ten, try two more."
The weight thuds against the ground when you're done and James helps you off of the plates. "How'd that feel?" He asks, fingers gentle as they grasp your wrist, turning it until he can read your heart rate from your smart watch.
"Like I'm gonna be waddling, tomorrow."
James huffs a laugh through his nose, "Well your heart rate is in zone four."
"Gross, so unfit." You snatch your wrist back.
He shakes his head, hands you your water, "Means you're working hard, pushing yourself. And pushing yourself gets results."
You answer with a shrug, swallow the water. James takes it back, nods his head to the plates. "Go again, this time, hold a half squat on the way back up for a couple seconds."
"That's hateful. You're being hateful."
"You got it." James encourages.
James' eyes your form carefully, nods subtly to show he's happy with it. "Working tonight?" He asks.
He has an incredible talent for making conversation at the worst times but you indulge him nonetheless, always willing to talk to him outside of what muscles you're working, and how to correct your form. "Nah. A rare day off."
"Lucky."
You smile, "Yeah, I feel so lucky right now."
James laughs. He laughs like a summer breeze. His eyes light up and his lips twitch. For a guy who looks like he could drop absolutely anyone who came near him, he's incredibly soft-hearted. It always stuns you, how kind and bright he actually is.
"You have clients til' late?" You ask, even though it feels like your lungs might explode.
"Thats eight," James tells you, "No. Just one after you."
You nod, "Early finish. Work harder, Jamie."
James unfolds his arms to point at you, tsking before he orders, "I was gonna have you stop at ten. Go for twelve, now."
It goes on like that through your final set, steady conversation that barely leaves the area of general small talk. You help James put the weights away, even when he tells you not to bother, even though you can only lift one where he lifts two. He checks your watch again, is happy with how hard you've pushed yourself.
"Are we taking progress pictures, this week?" You ask, scooping up your water bottle and car keys.
James shakes his head, "Next week, but I wanna show you something."
He guides you to the mirror against the weight wall where he stands behind you. It's hard to ignore the way he towers over you, almost swallowing you whole, and the inappropriate thoughts that spring to mind, the things you could do in the mirror, the things you'd love to see him do. You swallow. James lifts his hand, his fingertips grazing your shoulder, "You see how your shoulder is more rounded, now, instead of flat?"
You nod, scared to speak.
"That's muscle. It's the same here," His fingertips blaze a burning trail down your arm, "Your biceps, your abs," They skim over your waist, dip around your back, "Your glutes, your thighs, calves," He removes his hand, fingers flexing at his sides as though he's physically straining not to touch you. "All the muscle is growing. You're getting along so well you don't need progress pictures to notice it anymore."
Your face feels like it's on fire, your body leaning back into him until you feel the heat of his body, your shoulder brushing his arm. "So you're worth the money, then?" You ask, voice hoarse.
James smirks, his eyes lighten a little, "Oh, for sure."
Your eyes meet in the mirror, his head tilts a little downwards into a nod. "Same time next week?" He asks.
"That works." It comes out in a breath, your eyes unable to leave his.
You're not sure what normal behaviour is from a PT, but this doesn't seem like it. The thought of him acting like this with other clients makes your tummy twist uncomfortably, and you come to the startling realisation that you may be well and truly fucked. There's a reason you look forward to going to the gym, even though it takes all of your energy, there's a reason you save your nicest gym sets for the days you attend training. There's a reason you find yourself purposefully having the wrong form, if just to feel James' touch. It's wildly inappropriate, you know that. But you can't stop it or change it.
James nods, "Okay, well. You did great today. You should be chuffed."
He's so genuine, so nice, so fucking handsome. His brows hook in the middle at your hesitation, the way you force a smile onto your lips as you step away, turn to face him. "Thanks, James."
"Give me a message if you need anything, but if not, I'll see you next week." His eyes flick to the metal door, which creaks open and his next client comes through.
You hate the way you feel relief at the man who waves at James, the fact it's not some beautiful, toned woman. It makes you feel childish.
"Cool. Bye, James."
He waves, letting you start to walk away before he approaches his next client. The door swings shut behind you after a small smile to the man waiting, the cool air dousing you with a cold, startling reality. Your relationship with James doesn't extend past the gym, past a professional setting where you're paying James to train you. He'll never see past that.
And if James is inside the gym getting shit from his best friend about flirting with his cute client, about being so stupidly infatuated that he's come into work on his day off just because it suited you best, well, that's no ones business but his.
609 notes
·
View notes
As always, Simon stumbles into your shared apartment, sighing. He drops his gear by the door, stripping himself down to his boxers.
He walks into the living room, where the tv was on mute and a figure slept on your couch. He smiles, heading over to you, a blanket over your sleeping body. Simon stares at you for a moment before picking you up, making you stir awake.
He smiles, “Hi lovie.”
“Si?”
“‘Hats me.”
“You’re home?”
“Yup.”
“I haven’t made dinner…”
“S’ what? Pizza place down the stree’ is open.”
“But you deserve a home cooked-”
“Lovie? Why are you s’ hot?”
You blink. “What?”
“Like burnin’ hot…what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Your burnin’, lovie.”
“I’m fine,” you lie, thrashing around in his arms. “I needa make dinner!”
“You’re sick?”
You don’t respond.
“Bed. Now.” That was his stern voice. His lieutenant voice. “‘m orderin’ takeout.”
“But-”
“Lovie,” he warns. “Don’t make me tie you t’ the bed. Now, stay there an’ rest.”
He leaves the room to order dinner. When he gets back, you’re fast asleep.
***
You stir awake hours later, the TV in your bedroom on, Simon sitting next to you. He’s munching on a rice bowl. You groan, “My head hurts.”
“Have ya taken any meds?” You shake your head. He holds out a bite of his food to you. You accept it happily. “Got them rice pla’ers you love so much.”
“Thank you. I can never get old of them.”
“You should.”
“I love you so much, but I haven’t gotten old of you.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re gone take some meds after eatin’, ‘kay?”
You nod. “Love you, Si.”
“Love you too, lovie.”
578 notes
·
View notes
GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. I saw the notification and ran to Instagram only to find these photos. And when I tell you that I couldn’t stop looking at them for at least five minutes. . . so, you know I had to write a silly little drabble.
You come home after your early pilates class to find Charles snuggling with a puppy on the carpet in the living room, cushions perfectly scattered around to simulate a comfortable bed. When Charles sees you standing there with a puzzled look on your face, he just pouts, hugging the little dog tightly against his chest, and looks at you from beneath his eyelashes.
“What is that?” You ask, eyebrows raised. You know what is is, you simply don’t know what is a dog doing in your apartment when you don’t have any pets.
Charles cheeks are colored a light pink when he says, “Remember that time you said how much you wanted a puppy?”
“That was ages ago!”
“But look at him!” Charles grabs the puppy with both hands and shows him to you just like that scene in The Lion King with Simba being presented to all the animals in the kingdom. “Look at those eyes! We can’t send him back to the shelter.”
The dog isn’t even looking at you, too busy licking your boyfriend’s hand.
But Charles is right.
You can’t send him back to the shelter when you can give him a better life. And is not like you are actually mad that he decided to adopt a dog without your consent, it’s more about the surprise to see him lying on the carpet in his $2,000 white designer sweater with a dog, when in the past he’s gotten angry when you haven’t hung it up how it is supposed to hung.
You drop your bag and take off your shoes to join him on the floor. The little guy jumps from his hand and walks over to you, sniffing your hands and giving you side eyes until he feels safe enough to climb in your lap and let you hold him.
“Aren’t you cute,” You say, giving his little head a kiss. “I guess we need to give him a name, no?”
“About that,” Charles plays with a dog toy to avoid looking at you. “I already named him.”
You huff, “Of course you did.” You can’t be mad, not when Charles looks so shy and happy with the cute puppy walking around and exploring his new home. “What is his name?”
“Leo Leclerc.” He says it so proud, the corners of his mouth curling up that you can’t help but smile too.
“It suits him.” You agree, leaning closer to Charles. He immediately opens his arms for you and you rest your head on his chest, looking at Leo trying to climb on the sofa. “You’re a dog dad now, Charlie.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t asked you before adopting him,” He turns his head to get a better look at you. “and I’m sorry I used you wanting a puppy as an excuse when in reality I feel in love with him the second I saw him through the window.” Leo walks back to you and finds comfort between Charles legs. “I don’t want him to be just mine. I want him to be ours.”
You sit up, eyes looking between Charles and, what is now, your puppy. Your boyfriend looks expectantly, waiting for an answer that comes in the form of a squeak and a kiss.
“I can’t believe you went to get groceries and ended up adopting a dog.”
“About that,” Charles scratches the back of his neck nervously and you know what he’s about to say. “I saw him and forgot about everything else! But I can go to the grocery store this afternoon. He needs more toys, after all.”
“Oh, he’s gonna be so spoiled!”
898 notes
·
View notes
If you're taking request for Spencer and Bombshell!reader I think it would be so incredibly adorable if they were both on the way to a case (or coming back) and their little baby Amanda was face timing them to say hi to them and the team 🥺🥺
“Video call for you, momma,” Penelope says, plonking a laptop down onto the desk in front of you, and then quickly being called away by Emily for help.
You ditch your pen immediately, nail scratching the laptop trackpad as you slide the cursor to ACCEPT.
Amanda’s face fills the screen, a shy smile like her dad’s close to the camera, her eyes almost cut off by the top of the screen.
“Amy, babe, you’re too close to the computer! I can’t see your lovely face.”
Amy sits back in her chair. “Is this okay?”
You take her in. You trust your babysitter to take good care of her, but nothing is as reassuring as seeing her unhurt and smiling. “Hi, baby.”
“Hi mommy,” she greets. “Where’s daddy?”
“He’s in the bathroom. Be back any minute. Are you being a good girl for Mrs. Gamorrah? How’s your tummy?”
“I’m being good,” she says, ignoring the important question, “did you see my t-shirt?” She brings her shirt closer to the camera. She’s wearing her favourite pyjamas with the butterflies she had for her birthday, “Look, Mrs. Gamorrah got the soup stain gone.”
You beam at her. You miss her like crazy when you’re not there. You and Spencer take turns staying home most of the time, and so being apart from her and knowing she doesn’t have Spencer to soften your absence makes it easier to worry about her, and harder to concentrate on the work.
The door opens. You twist your head.
Spencer’s drying his hands on a paper towel. “Is that Amy?”
“Quick, she wants to see you.”
Spencer hurries to the laptop, bending at the waist to see the screen and his impatient daughter.
“Amy!” he says, like she’s the only person he’s ever wanted to see, voice enthused with his most dad-appropriate saccharine. “Hi, bunny, hi, hello. I miss you so much, are you okay? I miss you.”
You tap his leg gently. Calm down.
“Daddy, I am so happy, and I miss you too! We’re doing pictures.” She holds up a sheet of paper covered in crayon drawings. “Are you okay too?”
“I’m great now I’m seeing you. I really miss you, sweetheart, I’m sorry we’re both away at work.”
“It’s okay. Me and Mrs. Gamorrah are gonna have pizza and jiffy pop and soda tonight. It would be good with you, but it’s still fun.”
“That’s good,” you say, putting your hand on the keys, wishing you could feel her soft arm in your hand, stroke her silken forehead. “We’re gonna be home soon. Maybe even tomorrow.”
Spencer wraps his arm behind your shoulder. “Me and mom miss you so so much, and we’re so proud of you being a good girl at home. We’re gonna bring you a big present for being by yourself.”
“I’m not by myself, dad, I have Mrs. Gamorrah. Plus, Uncle Morgan said he wants to take me and Hank swimming on Sunday.”
“I’m sure we’ll be home before Sunday.” You smother your frown. Spencer kisses your cheek.
“Give one for me, dad!”
Spencer kisses you again. “That one good enough?” he asks.
“Another one!”
When you get home, you’re gonna spoil the death out of her. Like, worse than you’ve ever spoiled her before. Spencer presses another great kiss to your cheek and smushes your faces together, Amy on the screen reaching for you both for a ghost hug. “I wanted to say hi before we go to the store. Can I call you again before bed?”
“Yeah, baby, call again!” You rush to answer. “Call daddy’s phone, okay? Mine’s not working right. I’ll answer you, we’ll talk all about your day. Okay? I miss you very much.”
“I miss you too. Bye bye.”
“Okay, bye bye,” you say, “I love you.”
“Love you, Amanda,” Spencer says.
She waves her little hand until it looks like it might fall off of her wrist. Spencer waves back just as hard.
595 notes
·
View notes
Cat People - LN
Summary: Lando prefers dogs, they match his energy. But his girlfriend has been labelled by friends, family and fans alike as an "orange cat" and with her birthday coming up he's all out of ideas for gifts.
No part 2 requests please
Lando groans as he sits in Max's house.
"I don't know why you're struggling so much, mate. Y/n always says she doesn't want a big deal out of her birthday." Max states though he knows that if P said that then he'd be just as stressed about trying to get it right.
It's not till Max's cat jumps up on the bed next to Lando that he's struck with an idea.
"Y/n loves your cats."
"Ok..." Max frowns not really sure where Lando is going with this.
"I could get her a cat."
"You don't like cats."
"I never said that...I just prefer dogs...but y/n loves cats. All the fans call her an orange cat."
"That doesn't mean you should get her a cat."
"You guys always say she's like an orange cat."
"That's because she has those weird bursts of energy. Like...that time she was just lying there like half asleep, then suddenly she sat up threw a pillow at you and practically ran out the room." Max recalls making Lando grin since y/n actually does that quite a lot. "And she lets every intrusive thought be followed through on."
That's true. Just the other day y/n bit into a new blusher she'd bought because it looked like jelly. There was instant regret and enough wallowing over her own actions that Lando decided to just buy her a new one, really hoping she wouldn't repeat her actions.
"I'm getting her a cat." Lando declares earning a sigh and head shake.
Reasoning with Lando is out the window and he's already invested in the idea. Recruiting Max to aid him despite his comments of how Lando's apartment in Monaco is probably not the best place in the world for a cat.
-
It took some doing and Lando ended up having to use Max Verstappen's apartment as a hold for the kitten before her birthday. Thankfully the world champion actually knows how to care for cats and did alright to keep the ginger kitten happy.
"Hey, thanks for the help mate." Lando states as Max hands the carrier to him. The ungodly hour of 6AM is unwelcome to both of them but Max is happy to help and Lando had to get the kitten before y/n woke up.
"No it's ok, I hope she loves him. He's very cute." Max smiles earning a smile. "I never thought of you as much of a cat person."
"I'm not...but y/n is." Lando sighs while looking down at the cat. "Probably going to be her soulmate in cat form. Anyway, I'll let you sleep. Thanks again, mate."
"No problem."
And like that he's back with the new cat in tow. He'd been hiding all the cat stuff in his car which he's spent the morning before heading to Max's setting everything up while y/n was still sleeping peacefully.
"Y/n..." Lando whispers wanting to wake y/n up as gently as possible and she does ease from her sleep, groaning and stretching. "Happy birthday baby."
"Thank you..." Y/n smiles earning a grin as he leans down and kisses her. "Oooh...pancakes for breakfast? I-"
Her sentence is cut short by a squeak making her frown.
"What-"
"Close you eyes! I've got a surprise for you." Lando exclaims in a slightly rushed panic since he was hoping the kitten would be quiet till she was a little bit more awake.
"Why? What's-"
"Please."
Y/n sighs covering her eyes while Lando picks the fluffy ginger kitten from the carrier before gently placing him in her lap making her eyes snap open with a gasp.
"Shut up. Stop. You did not!" Y/n exclaims with a gasp picking up the cat with tears very much appearing quickly. "You got me a cat?"
"I wasn't sure what to get you and I figured it'd be on brand."
"The McLaren cat?" Y/n laughs earning a look from him before he laughs.
"No!" Lando laughs though now he's thinking of it, it does make sense. "I mean that works too but all the fans and our friends call you an orange cat because of the way you act."
"Oh. OH!" Y/n gasps making him laugh. "What should we call him?"
"Whatever you want."
"Cats always have weird names don't they?" Y/n hums in thought while seeming to struggle to take her eyes off of the cat who seems equally as immediately attached to y/n as she is to him. "I think...there's only one option really."
"And what would that be?"
"Senna."
Lando's eyebrows raise but he smiles feeling like she really just locked in the fact that she is definitely his soulmate. There really isn't anyone else he could possibly find himself better that y/n.
Y/n looks at Lando with a grin.
"Is that a yes to Senna?"
"I think it's perfect for him." Lando nods with a smile.
-
It's really stupid to be jealous of a cat, but y/n took all of 10 minutes to be joint at the hip with Senna.
The following week after her birthday Lando found that he wasn't getting quite the affection from y/n he'd become accustom throughout their entire relationship.
He also noticed that actually of the two Senna is the lesser of energetic in general and y/n seems to be the one with random bursts of energy that do in turn trigger little bursts of energy from Senna. And while he's jealous, Lando does have to admit it's kind of cute seeing how the two have seemed to bond over sharing a personality even if Senna is ever so slightly more chilled out.
Although in true cat fashion, he has managed to already smash a glass that he nudged off the kitchen counter.
"Hey, you look so sad over here on your own." Y/n smiles sliding herself into Lando's lap as he sits at his gaming PC, Senna seemingly finally having left her side. "What's wrong? You've been huffing and puffing all day."
"No I haven't."
"Is it because you want some love too?" Y/n whispers reading him like a book. "I'm only cuddling him so much so he knows what to expect when I don't have you around. Anyway, just think of Senna as a trail."
"A trail for what?" Lando frowns making her smile.
"For if the day ever comes that we have a kids." Y/n smiles earning a grin from the driver. "But...if you're jealous of a cat getting attention. Who knows if you could handle a baby."
"Well no, that's-"
"I'm kidding. You're just so easy to wind up." Y/n laughs then kissing him. "But Senna is my first baby and he's just a baby."
"He is." Lando hums then sighing. "He's a pretty chill cat, so I guess it could be worse."
Almost as if he's a paid actor, Senna appears and jumps onto y/n's lap and she smiles as Lando does actually move to stroke the kitten gently.
"I'm just going to have to make sure I give both of my boys all my love and affection. Which is going to be pretty easy because I love you both very much." Y/n smiles feeling Lando kiss her softly.
"Actually I did get some pretty nice pictures of the two of you...and video...can I post them on my other accounts please?" Lando asks earning a smile and nod as Senna starts purring loudly, settling down to lie on the two of them. "He's my baby too for the record."
"Good. Because I actually think he loves you just as much as me." Y/n smiles pulling her phone out and revealing her lock screen as a picture of Senna curled up, nuzzled in Lando's neck, on top of his shoulder as he sleeps in their bed. "If you're sharing pictures and videos of me and Senna, can I share this?"
"Yes. Definitely."
"Good, before I have another one of him just curled up on your chest."
809 notes
·
View notes
Are you able to right a gojo fic? He pulls you aside after a meeting to a spicy makeout with you that leads to more than just a make out:,)
𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: "more than a make out" indeed, lmao
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit reader; minors DNI - canon divergence; you're gojo's partner who works in Tokyo jujutsu tech with him - kissing; making out - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - breast sucking - deep impact position - praising - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Ijichi and Naga - Gojo is a touch-starved fool, bless him lol.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k
“Y/n~~!”
“…! Oh, Gojo!”
“Ahh, it’s Gojo-sensei!”
Being the strongest sorcerer in the modern world is a hassle, no matter how much Gojo loves to shake it off as if it’s not. Not that he doesn’t mind it — no, no. If anything, he prides himself in it. It fills his ego, knowing that a scarce few could be compatible with his power. He’s a dependable light for the jujutsu world, sorcerers of the nation thankful that he's not on the wrong side.
But alas, being the best has its taxing side, especially taking in tedious missions across the land and attending mandatory meetings with the entire jujutsu faculty body — not to mention being a teacher. The white-haired sorcerer was a busy man — no other way to explain it. However, the worst thing about it all was that there would be times when he’d have less time to spend with a certain someone who had him in the palm of their hands. And if he keeps being away from them, he might – no, will – malfunction.
You were Gojo’s partner, his sweet baby that he cherished more than anything. You were a faculty member of Tokyo Jujutsu High, making things a little easier for the two of you to meet and elope (professionally). Nevertheless, those moments seem to frequent less and less with how many meetings have Gojo backed up this past week. The poor guy can’t even remember the last time he heard your sweet voice (which is a lie since you call every morning and night; he makes sure you do).
Although, today would be different. Once this meeting with the Kyoto officials ended, he made a straight beeline out of the room to find you. And to his cheerful chuckle, he skips in your direction when he sees you conversing with Yuuji in the hallway. The salmon-haired teen greets his teacher with a high-five and a bow from you.
Yuuji hears Megumi call for him from outside, so the boy dismisses himself with a goodbye and wanders off, leaving you and Gojo to yourselves.
“Hello, Y/n~,” the man says your name with a happy tune, his lanky figure swaying to be close to you.
“Good noon, Gojo,” you greet him again with a modest smile as the tall man walks to you. “How was your meeting? Did the officials give you a tough ti—Mmmph!?”Your boyfriend surprises you with a kiss, taking in your perplexed moan with his pillowy lips. One peck comes after another while Gojo’s hands sneak to your waist. You quickly push him away, but his hold keeps you close to his figure. “G–Gojo, what are you doing!?” You express your concern in confusion, covering your lips with a hand.
“Mmm? What do you mean? I’m greeting my princess with a kiss,” the blindfolded man says so matter-of-factly, beaming his delighted demeanor that nearly blinds you. “I miss you!”
“I miss you, too, but you can’t just—“ He tilts his head as you try to explain. You chew your lip with cheeks boosting in warmth, averting your glance away from his charming face that’s inching closer and closer to yours. His eyes are masked by the black cloth around his face; however, you can still sense the intensity of his gaze. “N-Not in public, Gojo...”
He plays the whining card, bringing you in for a tight hug that could restrain your breathing. “Ehhh, but I haven’t seen or touched you in days! See, we’ve been apart for so long that you’re going back to referring to me by my last name!”
“I always call you by your family name when in the school, no??”
“Yeah, but that’s only for when people are around, not just the two of us!” His complaints are genuine, swaying around with you in his arms. You roll your eyes, listening to him yap more. “Come on, Y/n; it’s been such a hectic week for me, missions after missions, meetings after meetings. Any more than this, and I just might combust — especially when I don’t have time to see my angel.”
You hear him make fake crying noises to your shoulder, reminding yourself how much your tall, strong boyfriend can be such a whiny puppy if he’s away from you for too long. But you can’t kid yourself; you missed spending time with him just as much as he did. “I know; I wanna see you more often, too. Don’t you worry, okay? This week is almost over, so keep pushing through like the tough man you are…Hehe, my strong Satoru.”
The snow-haired sorcerer springs up with a childish smile at the use of his name, his dimples present with the shine of his teeth. “If that’s what must happen, can your strong Satoru ask for another kiss to make his hell a little bearable?”
You give him a look at his request, but his anticipation doesn’t falter. With a sigh, you smile and whisper, “Just a kiss, Satoru?”
He chuckles lightly, drawing his mouth close to yours. “Yes, princess.”
His soft lips land on yours. There’s no restraint as you welcome him, your hands coming around to cup his cheeks before breaking the kiss. “One more,” he says before your nose is brushed away from his. You comply and place another gentler peck, and the man sneaks a hand from your waist to the back of your head. You withdraw your lips again, but Gojo utters another “One more…” Your stomach does flips knowing what game he’s trying to play. Another kiss is received, and his leg sneaks in between yours.
You mewl, finding yourself stuck in this predicament. He’s now in control, using this opportunity to deepen the kiss and make it more passionate, sucking your bottom lip and running his tongue for more access. You have no choice but to accept him, whimpering at the tongue intruding into your oral cavity while his leg moves further and further.
Your hands come to his shoulders, gripping his jacket as the Gojo furthers himself into the kiss. The hand behind your head keeps you steady, keeping him focused on your mouth, where he sucks on your tongue in a way that leaves you breathless — like, actually. After he quits the kiss, you two are gasping for air so hard, and your lips are wet because of him.
“Hahhh, ’Toru, stop,” you wipe spit from your mouth. “We can’t be doing this here…”
Your complaint falls on deaf ears, the sorcerer placing chaste kisses on your cheek. “Hmmm, why not?”
“Mmm..Someone, your students, we’d be caught here…”
Gojo smirks; it’ll never stop being adorable how bashful you are around him, particularly when he expresses his undying affection for you in public. But he will respect your wishes, and the idea that pops into his head makes him giggle.
Before you can process anything, Gojo picks you up with your legs held up and a hand on your back. You squeak at the unexpected action, grabbing a hold of his neck to balance yourself. Your mouth opens to express your bewilderment. Yet one moment, you two are in a hallway of the school; then you’re transported to a familiar room with a bed the next — your bedroom.
You blink in perplexity as Gojo throws you on top of your bed, stammering to find the right words. “Satoru, I wish you’d stop teleporting without letting me know! And don’t you have another meeting to get to!? Why are we in my apart—“ You don’t finish that sentence; you stop yourself once Gojo crawled up on the bed to you. Suddenly, you feel too small to utter a word.
“Sorry, baby,” No, he wasn’t. Not with that childish grin posted on his face. He brings his face to yours, placing more smacks on your lips. “But you’re the one who said we shouldn’t be doing this on school grounds. Heh, you act so cute when you’re shy…”
“No, Satoru, we can’t—Mmmm,” silencing you with kisses was such a vile card, knowing you’d be whimpering under him just from him twirling his tongue with yours. “Mmph..Mmah…! You’re scheduled for…another meet—“
“Shhh, don’t worry; I can be late for a few minutes,” another lie. If Gojo’s late to another meeting, Principal Yaga will put the younger man in a chokehold again. “I’ll make this quick, I promise. So, just let me enjoy you…”
Sucking your tongue is all it takes for you to give up on trying to persuade him out of what he’s doing. Gojo takes off and throws his jacket to the bedroom floor to let his black fitted tee breathe, and his hands initiate unbuttoning your blouse. He then slithers it down to the bottom of your long pencil skirt to pull up, greeting your undergarments with his digits. You jerk at the contact of his middle finger that presses on the damp spot of your panties, earning a faint, salacious laugh from Gojo.
“Awww, did my baby get wet just from kissing earlier?” He rubs the underwear further, soaking the spot more with your fluids. Your thighs tremble, “Did you miss me that much?”
“Sato—Oooh!” He sinks his finger deeper into your entrance; the material barrier is so wet from your essence seeping through. “Your finger...Mmm.”
“What is it, cutie?” He whispers to your ear, and you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a moan. “You want my fingers?” You nod sheepishly, amusing the snow-haired man. “Now, Y/n, you know I want to hear you tell me what you want. Use your words, princess.”
You gulp to satiate your dry throat. “Yess, Satoruu, I want your fingers. Please, let me cum on your fingers…”
“That’s my angel,” he praises before straightening himself between your sheer pantyhose-covered legs. After sliding your damp panties off, he brings a leg to his shoulder and finally slides his blindfold off his face, his hair losing its spiky position and falling with gravity. Cerulean eyes catch a glimpse of your wet cunt in his sights, biting his lip. “Made such a pretty mess all for me, huh.”
His hand returns to your now bare chasm, sliding his ring and middle finger between your soaking folds. You hum to the touch, gripping on your blouse to use as reins. After a few seconds, he inserts the middle digit inside, immediately going to work after he pulls a gasp from your surprised body.
Slow motions sneak up on you, scraping your velvet texture with the blunt fingertip. His slender digit pushed and pulled from inside you, making sure you took him to the knuckle. He swirls it around, evoking shaky screams from him, scratching your inner walls so diligently. And your eyebrows furrow once the movement quickens.
“Hooohh, ohhh!” You threw your head back to the pillows. “Ahhnn, faster, go faster…”
“Hmm? You want me to go faster?” He teases with a perched brow. He does as asked, but with a catch; he sneaks his ring finger inside with your slick as lube. You shriek, two fingers now ravaging your insides and pleasing you with faster shifts. “Like this?” Did you even have to answer that; were you gripping the sheets and hips moving on their own not enough?
“Oooo, fuahhh, fuuckk, ‘Toru, nooo, y’re making me…Hoohh!”
“Yeah, that’s right,” he kisses your calf before placing his lips on your ankle to lick playfully. “Just let me make you feel all good.”
Fuck did Gojo miss this; it’s been more than a week since he’s had his hands on your body like this. The constant meetings have almost made him forget the warmth and plush of your frame. He needed this, like, BAD. He’s barely containing himself now; the image of your slit taking his fingers so well is bubbling his excitement, and the tent of his pants that shields a boner grows painfully hornier.
You were bound to cum on his fingers in no time, howling with an arched back when he does the ‘come hither’ motion and scrapes your inner walls. They contract around his digits as your legs tremble with the surge of your orgasm. Gojo loves the sight and stirs the fingers to tease your keen nerves more. “Good job, sweetie,” he kisses your ankle again while slowly removing his fingers from you, inserting them inside his mouth to lather his tongue with your juices. He almost caves in just from the taste.
But a sudden buzz in the pocket of his pants alerts him. He brings out his phone ringing with a call and presses the green button before pressing the device to his ear. “Yo, Ijichi.”
“Ah, thank goodness you picked up. Where are you; the meeting starts in a few minutes.”
“Mmm, I’m at Y/n’s,” even if you’re in a tiny daze, your face morphed into an expression of shock at his nonchalant honesty. “I’m only here to grab something real quick, and then I’ll head back to the school.”
“Are you sure…?”
He laughs, “Now, Ijichi, are you calling me a liar?”
That was precisely what he was — a whole liar.
“—Taahh, ahhhn, Sa’oruuuuu! Yer hitting shoo deep in—Saaahh!!”
It’s been a solid fifteen minutes after that call with Ijichi, and Gojo is still in the confines of your bedroom. He was very much late; of course, he was. Why would he not be? He finally has this chance to have you to himself, so he’s indulging it however long he wishes.
Gojo ripped you out of your clothes to meet with his clothing on the floor, leaving you bare and nude for him aside from your pantyhose. You’re lying on your side with one leg up on Gojo’s shoulder while the other is between his, and his cock now pushing to and fro inside your chasm that was filled with his come.
His thrusts were sharp and rough, the curve of his dick jabbing areas in your vagina you never thought would be stimulated. Jesus, his length was dangerous, having you babbling incoherent words to the air and reaching so deep inside that you quaked under him. Your brain is stuck in a haze, especially since this is the second time he’s fucking inside you and made you cum a total of three times!
“Ohhmy, Gohhhd! Sato—Ohhhh…!!” He grasps around your leg to plunge himself further and faster, the work of his pelvis having you see stars.
“Hsshhh, God, you feel so fucking good, baby,” he coos sweetly, juxtaposing with the erratic pace of his hips that move your figure with every rut. Azure orbs take in the display before him; your naked body submitted to him to alleviate his week-long stress and please the both of you. Strands of his silverfish-white hair are drenched from the sweat built on his forehead. “—Hmmgh! Shit…keep clamping onto me like that.”
You chew on your lip, sneaking a hand down on your clitoris to whisk your fingers around it. Oh, it feels so good, playing with yourself as your boyfriend massages your insides. “Mmaaah, s’ good...”
“Hmm, what’s that?” His hips now go slow; the stretch his curve causes when entering inside has your toes curl. “What feels good?” He then snaps his pelvis to startle you.
“—Mmmph!! You! Y’u feel so good, ‘Toruuu..!”
“Heh, you feel amazing yourself, Y/n,” returning to an erratic rhythm, Gojo pumps his cock til the base kisses your squelching folds. His balls smack onto you after every push. He then curves downward for his face to be closer for you to hear him, “Hmmnn, you gonna be good and come again, right?”
You nod cursorily, your eyes shut to enhance the feeling of you rubbing on your bud. “Yesshh, I’m so close, I wanna cum…Want you to fill me u—Uuuhhn!!”
“Jesus, you look so fucking hot,” he grins before bringing his mouth to your nipple, his tongue dancing around the tip to harden. “Let’s cum together, okay, cutie?”
He sucks in your nipple as his thrusts go grim, and severe hits to your cunt result in you wailing far from your control. The tip of his cock picks at your silky walls so euphorically that you hum his name. A hand comes to your chest to keep you steady and synced with him, and he keeps rutting into you even when his body shudders as his load is exerted inside your tight slit. And you’re not far from him either; your orgasm seconds away from his hits you hard, and you quiver in the shocks coursing through your body.
As you two rock slowly through your crescendos, your essence mixes with his seed, and your sweaty bodies heave and pant for the third time this session. Gojo releases your nipple from his mouth after withdrawing his dick from inside, and his jizz seeps out of your frame. “Phew, man, how I needed that.”
You respond despite your brain feeling a bit all over the place. “Are you happy now?”
He laughs while kissing your cheek. “Thank you, princess!”
“You’re welcome, Toru,” you shook your head with a meek smile. “But you really should get going; I don’t want you getting in trouble with—“
KNOCK!! KNOCK!! KNOCK!!
An abrupt sound comes from the front door, confusing the both of you as the knock comes from out of nowhere. Nonetheless, you get up and wipe yourself quickly before putting your clothes back on. Gojo does the same as you walk out of the bedroom to see who’s at your door. And once you open the door, your heart meets your stomach.
“Y/n,” it was Yaga, the principal adorning his usual attire and sunglasses.
“Principal Yaga,” you greeted the older man with a hurried bow. “Wh–What can I do for you—“
“He’s here, isn’t he?”
Your lips flatten at the question, using the silence to speak for itself as you move out of the way for the principal to enter. Yaga apologizes for the intrusion before marching into your apartment and presumably going after the person still in your bedroom, who lets out an exclaimed shout of pain from what you can assume was from a punch to the head from his old teacher.
The former instructor strolls back to the front door where you remained; Gojo is dragged on the floor behind him. “Sorry again for the inconvenience,” Yaga puts his shoes back on before exiting your home. You observe the men leave with a heavy sigh, waving goodbye to your snow-haired sorcerer as he’s pulled across the hall like a toddler.
“See ya, sweetie,” he cries out to you without regard to the neighbors hearing him, putting his blindfold back on. “I miss you already!”
requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
548 notes
·
View notes
hsr penacony men reacting to the reader being a yandere
▼ trigger warning. for alot of things.
aventurine would most definitely keep an eye on you. he previously stated that he lost everything in life and that he had nothing else to lose anymore, but now... with your love for him, he knew that he would never try to lose you. however, your behavior got worse as the two of you got into a relationship. you became obsessive, possessive and toxic at times. you threatened others when they got too close to him, and there were times where he literally had to hold you back. aventurine liked this side a bit, but when it got triggered, he had to do everything he can to prevent you from murdering everyone in sight. he'd soothe you with words to calm you down, and there would be times where he had to physically keep you down. kisses and hugs would do the trick, but sometimes it'd take more than that.
"again?" aventurine murmured as he approached the dark alleyway of the outskirts of penacony.
the stench of blood filled his nostrils as he approached you obliterating an innocent person, your eyes wide and an insane smile adoring your veil.
"(y/n)..." he placed a hand atop of your shoulder, seizing you of your actions. you look over, your blood-covered face softening when you see your lover.
"she's dead. there's no need to make a mess now." he soothes you, stroking your hair as he began to clean you up with a handkerchief.
"she was certainly being a mess earlier," you cooed, "i had to get rid of her. she was talking about wanting to sleep with you, and—"
he hushed you by pressing his lips against yours, before pulling away. he couldn't help his popularity in penacony, but his reputation was extremely dangerous. because of you.
"it's alright, dear. remind yourself that nobody other than you will be able to have me."
"... hehehe. i just love you so much, kakavasha."
dropping the murder weapon, you embraced him, tainting his expensive clothing with the victim's blood.
"... i love you too." his gaze softens, looking at the gruesome sight before him. now he has to clean this up...
dr ratio knew that this side of you was hidden, somewhere, waiting to be summoned. he knew the moment he met you for the first time, there was something about you that wasn't... right. and now time has flown by, and the both of you were engaged in a relationship. however, he didn't calculate that this side of you would be so dark.
luckily for you, dr ratio was an introvert and only spent his time reading books and whatnot. he spends his days indoors, doing whatever a mathematical, physiological and scientific genius would do, so you didn't have to worry about him going off.
however, just one moment he walks into a public library and all hell breaks loose. a woman admiring him from afar would be declared missing, and you would obviously be the reason why.
he sighed, seeing that the woman's body was laid to rest, and you were approaching him with the murder weapon in hand.
"veritas!" you exclaimed, bouncing towards him with glee, "i missed you!"
he eyes at the gruesome sight behind you, sighing to himself as you embraced him. you impressed him, seeing that he did not calculate this dangerous side of you. but you had to be controlled. he definitely learned that questioning you of your antics and beliefs would drive you crazy and go on both a rampant and a rampage.
"...i missed you, as well. but please do not make a mess, next time. i'd rather not see you coat yourself with blood again. if anyone sees you, then—"
"or what." you threatened, your eyes widening. "let them see. let the world see! the world needs to know that you're mine. you're mine. you're mine. you're mine! you're mi—" you went off again, and he had to quiet you by placing a hand atop of your head. "i am yours," he forced himself to reassure you, "but i would much rather you not get caught. do you understand that?"
as though your demeanor changed, you became a guilty dog that was caught ripping something apart (literally). your eyes pleaded, as you look down.
"okay..."
"good. now let's clean you up."
sunday knew this side of you. considering he was also a manipulative person, he truly didn't mind that you were doing this but at the same time, he had a reputation to keep. he didn't want you to dirty the streets of penacony due to a bit of jealousy or hatred towards other people who admired sunday.
but he was given word that you were killing one of the guard dogs of the family, who spoke ill about you. well deserved, he thought, until he had to clean up after you.
the doors opened, revealing you, multiple guards watching you with horror and disgust, and the victim that could not be even seen as a victim anymore but a pile of intestines and minced meat.
he sighed, pinching his nose, before approaching you. the guards around him shook with terror as they were confused how he of all people was not affected by your actions.
"(y/n)," he calls out to you, "must you be this dirty with your actions?"
"he was talking ill about you." you say, looking towards him as you got up, happily skipping towards him, "so i got rid of him."
well deserved, sunday once again thought, but now he has a mess to clean up.
he signaled the guards to clean up the minced meat pile, before wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "now i have to drag you into the bath to get you washed up."
"okay! will you join me? you have to. you need to. or else everyone here dies, and—"
"i will." sunday nods slowly, pressing his lips at corner of your lips. "do not fret."
and because of this, and all the previous other events you did, you were practically nicknamed the "dog of sunday". you were a dog to be corrected on a leash, always by sunday's side, and a threat to those who opposed the man.
loyal, and forever by his side, waiting to bite.
214 notes
·
View notes
What You Need | Lando Norris⁴
Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Warnings: smut
"God, you're such a spoiled little brat. Who spoiled you like that? Was it me? Did I spoil you like this?"
"Yes, sir."
“I missed you so much,” Lando spoke in your ear as he slowly moved in and out of you. Every thrust was a reminder of how much he craved you and how good it felt to finally be together again.
“I missed you too,” you whispered back, gripping at his shoulders, your nails clawing at his back muscles.
He barely even put his travel bag down when he stepped into the apartment before he swept you in his arms. It's been only two weeks since you last seen each other and even though you spoke on the phone and exchanged countless messages, nothing could compare to the feeling of having your bodies pressed against each other’s.
“Lando…” you moaned as he kissed the side of your neck, your back arching into him. It was like an unquenchable thirst, the longing for him that gnawed away at the corners of your soul during his absence. Every touch, every whispered word was like a balm soothing the ache within you.
“Tell me,” he murmured against your skin, his hands sliding down your sides and leaving goosebumps all over your skin. He moved his head to kiss the other side of your throat, and you threw your head back, allowing him more space.
“Need you…” he still stroked in and out of you in that slow steady rhythm and you were getting squirmy, the burning need escalating with each passing second.
“Need me how?” Lando’s teeth gently nibbled at your earlobe as he whispered into your ear. You shivered and let out a long moan. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails leaving small, red crescents.
“Harder…” you choked out as he deeply sucked on the skin of your neck, and then left a trail of wet, sticky kisses. His eyes met yours, burning with fierce intensity that only grew with each word.
He pulled back slightly and with a raspy voice said, “Harder than what, baby?”
He took both of your arms and pinned them above your head. His hands were so large that he could easily hold both of your wrist with just one hand while the other went under your knee and grabbed your thigh, pulling you closer into him.
“Need me to fuck you harder? Like this?” he forcefully thrusted his hips into you just once with such intensity it sent waves and waves of pleasure coursing through you. Your breath hitched and hips bucked against his.
“Yes,” you cried out, your voice ragged and desperate. “Need you exactly like that.”
Lando smiled cruelly, his eyes dark with passion and possession. But he went back on fucking you slowly, earning a moan of protest from you.
“And what if I need you exactly like this?” he whispered, his lips grazing along your jawline.
“Lando, please…” you breathed, writhing beneath him, your body screaming for more. You wanted him to dominate you, to take you with a fierceness that would leave you trembling and begging for more. But he was toying with you, playing his own version of a sexual game, trying to make you crave it even more.
He still held your wrists above your head and with a sly smile, he began to exert more pressure. Your arms ached from the strain, your fingers going numb, but you didn’t resist. You wanted this. Needed this.
“I need you to fuck me like you mean it,” you said hoarsely. “I need you to take me hard and fast until we both can’t breathe, until we are both drenched in sweat. Fuck me like you want me—”
He kissed you. Deeply, hungrily. His tongue invaded your mouth, tasting and exploring the already familiar ground. His hips started picking up the pace, rewarding him with a satisfactory moan from you in his mouth. He thrust into you harder and faster, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure through your body that you thought you might never recover from.
“God, you’re such a spoiled little brat,” he broke the kiss, breathlessly panting and resting his forehead against yours. “Who spoiled you like that?”
He thrust into you, his hips moving faster and harder now, his breath hot in your ear as he spoke. You whimpered in response, the exquisite pain and pleasure somehow heightening your arousal.
“Was it me? Did I spoil you like this? Careful what you say, baby,” he growled, still thrusting into you with an intensity that left you breathless.
“Yes, sir,” you gasped.
“Fuck, you know exactly what to say to keep getting what you want, don’t you?” Lando grinned wickedly as he heard your soft submission. It turned him on in ways he didn't fully understand, but he knew that his body was responding in a way that made him harden even more.
“Yes, sir,” you repeated more loudly.
Your eyes met for a moment before he leaned in and captured your lips in another searing kiss. Hands gripped each other as you kissed passionately, tongues entwining in a dance of desire and need. Lando's hips continued their frenzied pace, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. You tightened your legs around him, urging him deeper, faster.
"Ready for me, baby?" he murmured, his voice low and husky.
You nodded, not trusting your voice, your eyes conveying your desperation and need. His eyes darkened, and he began to move faster and harder. You could feel each pulse of his cock as it slid into you, your walls tightening around him. Sweat dripped from his brow onto your skin, mingling with the sweat on your own body. Every movement was a demonstration of his dominance, of your submission. It was intoxicating, addictive and you couldn’t get enough.
With one final, powerful thrust, Lando groaned your name, release flooding through him as he filled you completely. Your own release followed, waves of pleasure washing over you as your core clenched around him. He held you tight, his body shaking with the force of his own orgasm as you both came down from the high.
The room was filled with the sounds of your panting, the wetness of your skin, and the thudding of your hearts. You knew that this wasn't the end. There would be more nights like this, more moments of raw, feral connection, but for now, you savored the aftermath, the feeling of being completely taken by him.
192 notes
·
View notes
Not Your Fault
Note - i hope you’re all excited to meet the final bubba 🩷 a few guesses for the name were right but no one guessed the exact spelling 😂 I hope you love them as much as I do though and hopefully I’ll be able to write about them a bit more as we learn about their personality 😌 hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated 😘
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 6k
Warnings - fluff, smut, tiny bit of angst
Putting the kids to bed with Mason was never an easy task. Mason putting the kids to bed on his own was a recipe for disaster but right now there wasn't much the pair of you could do.
You could hear Mason trying to wrangle your two babies as you sat with your third in the nursery. Ollie trying his hardest to help Mason tame Tilly as she ran riot and you knew Mason was about to explode. You wondered if you should get up to help but Ryley was feeding peacefully in your arms and you didn’t want to disturb him.
‘Welcome to the mad house baby’ you whispered, stroking your finger along his perfect nose all the way down to the end before awkwardly reaching down to kiss his head. ‘You’ll get used to Tills, she’s just excited about you being here’
And she really was.
Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d get pregnant so quickly after agreeing to try again and after your first two pregnancies you thought you knew your body well enough now to know when something had changed. Clearly that wasn’t the case though and it was actually Mason who figured it out first that were pregnant with a little help from Nala.
The kids were at school and Mason came home to find you cuddled up with Nala on the sofa. Her head and paws on your tummy as you scratched her head but as soon as he tried to cuddle you, Nala wasn’t having it. Growling at him when he tried to put his arms around you and pushing him away with her nose.
‘What’s crawled up her arse and died’ Mason laughed. Trying to snake his hands around your middle but Nala would fight him off every time until he gave up and grabbed your boob instead.
‘Mason? Do you mind’
‘Take it up with her, she’s hogging you’ he huffed but you just let it slide. You knew Mason needed to be holding something and if it was your boob then you’d just have to get on with it as he wouldn’t move off. You didn’t think anything of it though, you just knew Nala was protective and after you’d been cuddling for a while she was feeling territorial.
It was two days later that Mason caught you crying in the utility room. Half buried under all of the kids washing and the look of concern on his face just made you cry even harder. You’d been trying to get ontop of the cleaning all day and it the point you just felt overwhelmed.
‘Hey, what’s wrong sweetheart?’ He asked as he helped you up but you didn’t really have an answer for him. Trying to quieten your sobs but you could feel your bottom lip still wobbling as he looked at you softly.
‘Sorry Mase, I don’t even know why I’m crying’ you laughed as he wiped your eyes for you. ‘I’m just a bit emotional at the moment’ you told him and by the small sigh you knew he had something he wanted to say so you raised your eyebrow at him in hopes he’d speak.
‘Baby, you don’t think you might be…’
‘Drowning in washing?’ You laughed but the soft look on his face made you be quiet. He looked genuinely concerned but there was also something behind his eyes you couldn’t quite place.
‘No you wally… pregnant’
Pregnant? You didn’t think so at all. Apart from feeling more emotional than usual you didn’t have any other symptoms that you could think of and you wondered if Mason was just getting ahead of himself.
‘No I don’t think so Mase, I’d know if I was’ you told him but you watched his face soften as he cupped your jaw.
‘Well I know you too, and I think you are’ he teased. ‘You’re all emotional, you’re eating everything in sight and Nala suddenly won’t let me go near you’ he listed off and you blushed at the fact he’d clearly caught you snacking more than usual. ‘Maybe we should check? Just to rule it out’
‘I mean we can but it’ll just be a waste’ you laughed ‘We only started trying a month ago, Mase. I doubt it would have happened that quickly’
‘Don’t doubt my powers of fertility’ he laughed and even though you wanted to smile you were trying your hardest to keep a straight face.
‘You’re insane’ you huffed, grabbing his hand and taking him upstairs to your en-suite. You’d made sure to stock up on tests since you were now trying and you instructed him to wait on the bed while you took it.
‘There you go’ you smiled, walking out of the bathroom and handing him the capped test that was still loading. ‘What do you fancy for dinner? I’ll go get it started’ you told him as you made your way to the door but he grabbed your wrist to hold you in place, looking back at you like you’d lost your mind.
‘You’re not gonna wait?’
‘There's no point, it’ll be negative babe. Now what do you want?’ You told him, shrugging your shoulders as you really believe deep down that you had nothing to worry about as there was no way you were pregnant already.
‘You pick’ he told you quietly, and with a kiss to his forehead you made your way back downstairs and into the kitchen.
Mason was gone for a while, almost to the point where you were about to go and find him but he suddenly appeared in the doorway with his eyes full of tears and a soft smile on his face. You knew he would be upset that it was negative, knowing he wanted a third baby more than anything but you figured at least if he was smiling then he hadn’t taken it too hard.
You didn’t have a chance to say anything though, Mason coming straight over to you so he could cup your face and press gentle kisses over your cheeks which made you blush and your knees weak but you loved his gentle side and you let him shower with you affection.
Before you could reassure him everything would be fine and you had all the time in the world to try for baby number three, he pulled back to look at you and you were frozen in place as you knew what that look in his eye meant.
‘You’re pregnant baby’
‘What?’
‘You’re pregnant’ he laughed, kissing your cheeks again as you froze in his hold. Letting him continue to kiss your face and it’s like his words hadn’t hit you yet until he rested his forehead on top of yours.
‘You're lying’ you whispered, your bottom lip wobbling as your eyes started to burn but he just laughed at you. Reaching into his pocket to pull out the test so he could show you and there it was in black and white. The words pregnant staring you back in the face until you looked up into Masons happy ones. ‘We’re having a baby’
You burst into tears instantly as you fell into Mason's chest. Him holding you close to his body as he rocked you from side to side, letting you know it was okay and that he’d keep you safe, the both of you safe, and when you eventually pulled back he kissed your tears away.
‘I didn’t think it would be this quick, sorry it’s just a bit of a shock’ you laughed, trying to wrap your head around it as your stared back at the word pregnant.
‘It’s alright, baby. Are you feeling okay?’
‘I think so’ you laughed. Letting him grip the back of your thighs so he could place you on the counter and look him in the eye. ‘I just can’t believe it, like I don’t even know what to think’
‘Well It’s still early love, how about we keep it to ourselves for a little while and tell the kids when we’re certain everything’s okay’ he reassured you and you felt yourself relax at how calm and in control he was about everything. ‘We can tell the rest of the world after that when you’re ready but for now it’s just us yeah? You, me and Nala’ he joked before pulling you in for a well needed hug.
So you kept it to yourselves. Telling the kids after your 12 week scan and as soon as Tilly found out you were pregnant she’d barely left your side and was seemingly very quizzical about what was happening. You knew she wanted to come out and ask fully how it had happened but she kept it inside until one night when it was just the three of you.
Ollie was at a friend's house for dinner and after all of you had eaten, you were cuddled up on the sofa with Mason, Tilly nestled in between you. Her head on Mason's chest as you watched whatever was on the tv but soon enough Tilly was ready for a biology lesson.
‘Daddy, how did the baby get in mummy’s belly?’ she asked, her head tilting up to look at him but as soon as you looked up you could see the panic written all over his face.
‘Yeah, how did it happen, Mase?’ You teased wanting to know how he’d worm his way out of this one but you could see he was hating every second of this. Sending you a what the fuck face before looking back down at Tilly who was waiting patiently for him to explain.
‘Okay, so you know how you write a letter to Santa at Christmas?’ He started, Tilly nodding excitedly and you could see the cogs turning in his brain, wondering where the hell he was going with this but let him carry on. ‘Well, when two people who love each other very much want a baby, they write a letter to the stork and then you have to bury it in the garden so they can come and pick it up’
You could see Tilly wasn’t buying it, looking back at him in confusion and you yourself were waiting for what he had to say next.
‘But how?’
‘How what?’
‘His did they get into mummy’s belly’ he asked more firmly this time as Mason was quite clearly skirting around it but knowing Tilly she would ask and ask until she got her answer.
‘Well um… well then the stork, it comes back and uh… and it leaves a seed which is the baby… and uh, that goes in Mummy’s tummy’ he nodded, stuttering the whole way through as he was panicking but you were loving how flustered he was. Trying to hold in a laugh as you covered your mouth with your hand.
‘But how does the seed get in there?’ She persisted, watching Mason now try to hide a smile before his eyes flashed to yours and you knew he was about to say something he shouldn’t.
‘She swallows it’
‘Okay that’s enough for today’ you interrupted, pulling Tilly onto your lap ‘you need to go and pick Ollie up’ you told Mason with a slightly dissatisfied look on your face and he quickly kissed your forehead la with a smile before getting up. ‘Come on missy, let’s get you in the bath, yeah?’
‘Okay mummy,’ she smiled. Reaching over to give Mason a kiss on the cheek before making her way up the stairs and you promised her you’d be right up in a minute.
‘Right I won’t be long’ Mason laughed as he got up, reaching down to help pull you up with him but he must have caught the unimpressed look from you as he began to laugh at your expression. ‘What?’
‘You know what’ you laughed. ‘Maybe If I had swallowed we wouldn’t be in this state would we’
‘I love it when you talk dirty’ Mason laughed. Pulling you into him with his hand on your bum and he squeezed it as he kissed you heavily. ‘I’ll see you soon, maybe when the kids are in bed we can try-‘
‘Mason I swear to god’ you laughed, pulling away and tapping his chest before making a beeline for the stairs but the sound of his giggles as he made his way out the door made you giggle along too.
Things took a turn at the gender reveal though. The four of you not doing anything extravagant but you knew you wanted the kids involved so after you scan you gave your bestie Sid an envelope with the gender inside so she could organise a cake and the next day you were all sat around the kitchen island with wine glasses in hand ready to sink them into the cake and you couldn’t be more excited.
Mason and Ollie didn’t care what the gender was, as did you, but Tilly was gunning for a baby sister. Having already picked out some toys for her to have and she constantly referred to the baby as she. You knew there would be a meltdown if she didn’t get her way but you were trying to distract her as best you could.
‘Okay, are we ready?’ you laughed, popping your hand on Tilly’s glass to help her push down into the cake and after the count of three you shut your eyes and pushed down on both until you hit the board.
It was Tilly crying no that made you realise what had happened. Looking round to see everyone’s glass filled with the blue frosting from the inside of the cake but Tilly’s wails wouldn’t let you enjoy your time just yet.
Mason was trying his hardest to contain his laughter and when you pulled Tilly into a hug to console her, he wrapped his arms around the pair of you whilst Ollie just grabbed a fork and began to dig into his cake.
‘Tilly baby, it’s okay’ you tried to reassure her, holding your laughs in as best you could but she just cried harder.
‘I don’t like boys’ she sobbed into your neck as she held you tight and as much as Mason looked like he was about to lose it, he peeled Tilly away from you and began to talk to her quietly. Eventually taking her out into the garden where you could see him swaying her from side to side as he spoke into the side of her head and eventually she was nodding her head and wiping her eyes
You joined Ollie though, accepting the fork he passed you so you could dig in too while you spoke about the new baby boy on the way and Ollie was very quick to reassure you how excited he was and how much he wanted to help out.
‘Okay, I think we’re on board now’ Mason announced as he walked back in with Tilly on his hip. A smile on her face but her eyes were still red and watery so Mason sat her on the side so you could feed her some cake.
‘Tilly, my new book came today. Shall I read to you for a bit?’ Ollie asked, your heart melting at the way he wanted to cheer her up as Ollie reading to her was their thing. Whenever Tilly was on mad one or overwhelmed he’d often take her over to their little corner to calm down and your heart felt full as she toddled off with her hand in his.
‘So, another boy huh?’ Mason smiled as he came over to you. Resting his hands on your waist as you rested yours on his chest and you were thankful for a little bit of alone time with him.
‘Looks like it. And after two clones of you I’m hoping this one looks a little bit like me’ you told him before he kissed your forehead with a giggle.
‘Are you happy?’
‘Of course, as long as he's healthy I couldn’t care what they are,’ you told him softly and he nodded his head in agreement. ‘What did you say to Tilly?’
‘Told her it’s another boy to boss around. And that if she’s the only girl then she’ll always be my only princess’
‘What about me?’ you pouted, watching Mason roll his eyes but he was leaning down to kiss you just after.
You’d picked a few names out, but just like you’d done with Tilly you wanted to see him before you named him and once you had, the name Ryley seemed to fit him like a glove. Whilst you could tell he was Mason's boy you were constantly told how much he looked like you and it made your heart swell whenever you looked at him.
Tilly also came around as soon as she saw him. Almost bursting into tears at the way her little face softened at the sight of her new brother before she was looking up at you for permission to say hello to him and Ollie was just as perfect as ever with him.
A new baby meant a whole new routine though and lately it meant Ryleys feed came at bed time so Mason had to put the others to bed on his own. Usually he’d love this but clearly the novelty has worn off for Tilly and she was making it as difficult for him as possible.
Soon enough the noise died down. Mason telling Tilly that Ryley won’t want to stay with us if she’s too loud and she finally took the hint and got into bed. Letting Mason read her a very quick story before he went and said goodnight to Ollie with the house falling silent once more.
You felt Mason pop his head into the nursery soon after, his eyes and facial expression soft as he took you in but he couldn’t hide the deep blush on his cheeks. Eyes flicking down to your exposed chest as you fed Ryley and you could see he was debating whether or not he should come in but you nodded your head to motion for him to come over. Watching him carefully make his way over to the pair of you and when he was close enough you lifted your head in hopes he’d lean down and kiss you. Revealing in the feeling of his lips brushing against yours softly and you hummed in delight just before he pulled away.
‘You two alright in here?’ He asked quietly, crouching down so he could kiss Ryley’s head. Your heart fluttering at the adoring way he looked down at him before his gaze was locked on yours.
‘We’re okay. Are you okay?’ You laughed, referring to the nightmare he seemed to have just had with the others and you smiled as he rolled his eyes playfully.
‘Oh you heard that yeah?’ He laughed. ‘Unless you put Tilly to bed she’s a right pain in the arse’ he teased. ‘I love her but my god she’s a handful sometimes’
‘They don’t call her Tilly the tiny terror for nothing’ you winked. ‘You done good though sweet cheeks’
‘Thanks’ he laughed, rolling his eyes again. ‘I’m gonna go sort myself out but I’ll see you in our room in a bit, yeah? Take your time’
‘Okay’ you whispered and with one last heavy kiss to your lips he was making his way out.
You sat Ryley up not too long after so you could wind him. Knowing Mason hadn’t really got to see him all that much today and he’d be itching for a cuddle soon so you made your way back across the hall to your bedroom for some time for just the three of you.
You didn’t questione why the door to your bedroom was shut even though maybe you should have. He never usually shut it as it was harder for you to open with just one hand whilst carrying Ryley and you always kept it open just in case one of the kids needed you but you just shifted Ryley on your chest so he was over your left shoulder and pushed the door open.
You should have known there was a reason why he shut it. Walking around to be met with the sound of his loud breathing and when you rounded the corner and into his view you were shocked by the sight in front of you.
There he was laid on the bed, T-shirt riding high on his perfect body as his boxers had been shuffled down his thighs ever so slightly to free himself and even from the split second view you knew what he was doing as his hand moved up and down. A shocked gasp falling from your lips before you turned and you heard mason fumbling behind you.
‘Shit! Oh god, oh god no’
‘Mase, it’s okay’ you told him, slightly chuckling as you turned back around to face him but the look on his face made your heart drop.
His cheeks were redder than you’d ever seen them, a humiliated look plastered across his face no matter how much he tried to hide it and he looked on the brink of tears.
‘Masey, no don’t get upset it’s alright’
‘I need the bathroom-’
‘No wait’ you called, popping Ryley into his crib as quickly as you could before rushing over to him to stop him from hiding away in the en-suite for the rest of the night and thankfully you caught him before he was able to shut the door. ‘Come here baby, come and talk to me’
‘No I-‘
‘Mase, come on’ you interrupted, pulling him back to bed so you could sit on the edge with him in hopes he’d look at you. He was determined to keep looking down though so in the end you just held him tight and spoke into his hair. ‘It’s okay, you don’t need to be embarrassed or anything. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before’
‘I thought I had more time’ he told you. Holding you tighter but you hated how down he sounded.
‘Look at me’ you whispered, letting him take his own time to gather himself before looking up at you shyly. ‘You don’t need to be embarrassed, it’s perfectly normal’
‘I know I just… it’s still embarrassing’ he laughed. ‘I feel like a teenager who’s just been caught. I just thought you’d be a bit longer with the little man and I’d have time. I haven’t wanted to ask for… you know. I wanted to wait until you’re ready and-‘
‘Who said I’m not ready’ you smiled. ‘I gave birth 8 weeks ago now so that’s two weeks over’
‘I know’ he smiled. I’m just worried that’s all’
‘Worried about what?’
‘I don’t wanna hurt you’ he whispered and your heart broke at his sad face. ‘Remember what happened after Tilly?’ He asked and you nodded solemnly.
It had been six weeks since Tilly had been born and you knew Mason was chomping at the bit to have you. You were too big and uncomfortable towards the end of your pregnancy so it had been months since you’d last been intimate and it was almost as if Mason was counting down the days.
Your night didn’t go as planned though. Unbenounced to you, you still weren’t fully ready and even though Mason had been gentle with you and you’d tried to push through it, it hurt too much and you’d ended up bursting into tears.
Mason felt awful, almost in tears himself as he tried to comfort you but you knew he was blaming himself when he shouldn’t be. In the end you took his face in your hands so you could pepper his cheeks with kisses but your heart was breaking as he repeatedly told you how sorry he was.
‘Masey it’s not your fault’ you told him quietly, but he wasn’t having any of it. Hiding his head into your neck for the rest of the night until the pair of you eventually fell asleep.
He was quiet with you but extra soft for a few days until you could talk it out and let him know it wasn’t his fault. You just had to wait an extra few weeks and everything would go back to normal.
You could see it in his eyes now that he was frightened so you pulled him closer and cupped his jaw so you could look at each other properly.
‘Tilly had a massive head baby’ you laughed. ‘She was a right pain to get out but I don’t feel like I did with Tilly. Ryley was a breeze compared to her and I’m all healed up now. There’s nothing to be afraid of’
‘Yeah?’ He smiled. His body relaxing in your arms as you reassured him everything was okay and the small smile on his lips made you feel a lot better.
‘Yeah, of course. In fact… what do you say we pop Ryley in his nursery for a bit so we can have some time for just us’
‘Wait, what?’ He whispered, his face looking slightly shocked but in all honestly your been craving some alone time with Mason yourself. ‘Are you sure?’
‘100%, Just give me a sec and I’ll be back’ you told him. Slightly untangling yourself from him so you could pick up Ryley and take him over to his nursery. You never left him in here at night but he had his naps in here all the time so you made sure the baby cam was set up properly before dropping a kiss on his head. ‘I’ll be back for you soon, little one. Just keep sleeping for me’ you whispered. Taking one last look before making your way back to Mason.
He was sitting on the bed facing the door when you got back and a sudden wave of anxiety rolled over you as soon as you shut the door. Your body had changed so much since he’d last seen it and you knew you were covered in stretch marks and still sagging in certain places so when he pulled you in between his legs you tried not to look him in the eye.
‘Baby? Everything alright?’ He asked, fingers delicately tracing the backs of your thighs and you just nodded and you pulled him into a hug.
‘I’m okay, just nervous’ you laughed awkwardly. ‘It’s been a while’
‘I know, love. We can go as slowly as you want to though, yeah?’
‘I know’ you smiled, kissing his forehead gently but he could still read your mind and sense how apprehensive you were.
‘And I don’t care what you think your body looks like now. You know that don’t you? I love you and I just wanna make you feel good’
‘I know, Mase’ you smiled, eyes filling at his sweet words. He’d said the same after both your other babies had been born but the words still hit you deep. You didn’t look like you used you, three babies would have an effect on anyone but Mason never cared. He took you as you were and only cared about looking after you, telling you you’d given him everything he’d ever wanted and he’d make sure he looked after you in whatever way you needed.
His hands were trailing all over your bare legs, touching wherever he could as his lips pressed kisses to your chest and you couldn’t help but giggle as he finally got to touch all the places he’d missed for the last few months.
‘What’s so funny?’ He smiled, pinching your bum gently as you steadied yourself but his cheeky smile was melting you.
‘We’ve been together for so many years now, had three kids together and you’re still as horny as ever’ you chuckled, wanting him to know how ridiculous you found him but deep down you knew you were just as bad.
‘That’s what happens when you’ve got the most beautiful wife in the world’ he told you. ‘You know I’ll never not want you. Even when we’re grey and wrinkly I’ll still think you’re hot as fuck’
‘If you’re trying to get me in the mood, talking about old people probably won’t help’ you told him, kneeling onto the mattress and his light laugh made you smile.
‘Noted’ he winked, shuffling back and inviting you to lay with him and once you were next to him he laid you back gently and kissed you with as much passion as he could muster.
He kissed you until you felt dizzy, your hands gripping at him where you could and when when you moaned into his mouth he rolled ontop on you so he could look directly down at you.
‘What do you want baby? You want my fingers?’
‘Mhmmm’
‘Yeah? You don’t sound so sure’ he teased but before you could protest he was talking again. ‘I think I know what you really want’
‘What’s that?’
‘You want my mouth, don’t you?’ He whispered lowly into you ear. The sound making you shiver and a gasp to fall from your lip at the sound of his dirty words. ‘Thought so’ he chuckled and before you knew it he was kissing down your neck as he grabbed the hem of your shirt.
You knew it was just Mason and he loved you no matter what, so you let him remove all your clothes as he placed kisses to your exposed skin. Pushing any nervous thoughts out of your head so on you could enjoy the feel of him again.
As soon as his lips touched where they needed to you felt yourself melt. Feeling like you were floating on clouds as he reminded you what you’d been missing out on for months as you tried your hardest to keep your moans at bay and not wake anyone. He made it difficult though. Getting back into the rhythm of things like he’d never been away and soon enough your fingers were getting tangled in his hair as he pushed you over the finish line.
‘Stop biting your lip, I wanna do that’ he laughed, as he made his way back up to your face. Kissing you so you could taste yourself and you let out quiet moan as he gently sunk his teeth into your bottom lip.
‘I’m trying to be quiet’ you laughed, lips against his as you spoke before he stole another kiss from you. Knowing he was ready and raring to go.
‘What do you want now baby?’
‘I want you. All of you,’ you told him. Watching a slight nervousness flicker through him and you wanted to reassure him straight away. Gripping the back of his neck so you could tug him back down for a kiss and as he got into it you began to undress him until you were both naked and needy for each other.
You knew he was watching you the whole time as he pushed his way inside of you. Your face contorting in pleasure as he took his time before bending down to press gentle kisses over your face.
‘Is that okay?’ He whispered, moving his hips slowly so you could adjust to him but you were already seeing stars after not feeling him for so long and all you could muster was a nod. ‘Yeah?’ Breathed, a sense of relief laced through his voice and you nodded as you tried to reassure him further.
‘Yes masey, keep doing that’ you moaned, louder than you’d intended to but it all felt so intense and you knew mason was feeling it too.
‘Should I slow down?’
‘No, just like that’ you sighed. Reaching up to grab his shoulders so you had something to steady yourself but also because you wanted to feel his skin under yours.
‘You wonder why I still can’t keep my hands off of you?’ He moaned, pulling up so he could hold you at your waist and take a bit more control. ‘Fucking look at you, you’re unreal’
‘Mase-‘
‘I know gorgeous. I’m with you, just let go for me’ he told you and you did exactly as he said. Letting him coax you through it until you were spent and he was flopping down gently next to you.
Sometimes you felt like this was your favourite bit. Laying skin to skin with your man as he gently stroked your back and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into him more as you made every second count. You’d missed these moments with him and from the way he was holding you close you knew he’d missed it too.
‘You okay?’ He whispered after a while. Feeling your eyes growing heavier as he lulled you to sleep but you looked up at him with a soft smile as he kissed your nose.
‘I’m perfect’
‘I didn’t hurt you at all did I?’ He questioned quietly but you shook your head so he knew you were fine straight away.
‘I promise you, I’m absolutely fine’ you told him. Pecking his lips softly before sighing. ‘I’m so comfy but I need to go and get Ryley. I don’t like leaving him in there alone for too long’
‘Stay there, okay? I’ll go get little man’ he reassured you. Kissing your head gently before untangling himself from you so he could get dressed and grab your boy.
You got dressed too whilst he was gone and you were just pulling your top over your head as he walked back in with Ryley cuddled into his chest. Your heart thumping at the way they were together and no matter when or where, watching Mason with a tiny human always made your knees weak.
‘Come on boys, mumma needs a cuddle’ you laughed. Jumping up onto the bed and letting Mason pass you Ryley before he laid next to you. His head on your chest as Ryley laid on the other side and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking down at Mason and seeing how happy he was to have some time with Ryley. ‘You okay, Mase?’
‘I’m better than okay’ he smiled, reaching up to give you a quick peck before nuzzling back down into your neck. ‘Thank you for everything, I never thought I could be this happy’
You didn’t have the words for him. Your eyes filling with tears as you kissed his temple but inside you were agreeing with him wholeheartedly. You too never thought you could ever be this happy but as you thought about where you were right now and who you were with, you knew right now your life and your family were complete.
Thank you so much for reading 🩷 I really hoped you enjoyed it and I’d love if you could leave me some feedback if you fancy it 😘
165 notes
·
View notes
pieces
they fight. brownstone era. for @dreamsinthewitchouse. ~1k.
It starts out so small that Henry hardly realizes what it’s become until it’s too late. He doesn’t mean to sigh when Alex gets home and sets his things down at the table, next to the dinner Henry’s spent hours making only to then watch grow cold. But then Alex’s apology—which Henry is certain he means but rather wishes hadn’t been needed to start with—feels just sharp enough that Henry is hurt by it, and the hurt comes out all wrong.
It comes out angry, and maybe a little bit selfish, and Alex is stretched thin as it is, Henry knows this, yet once he’s made it about himself it’s like a disease and he can’t seem to stop it from spreading.
And then he hears Alex say that he can take the couch, and Henry goes so still it’s as if Alex just dealt him a physical blow. They’re fighting, he realizes. It’s one dinner, which Alex hadn’t even known he was missing, and now it’s come to them sleeping apart because Henry’s little feelings got wounded?
“No,” says Henry. “Absolutely not.”
Alex rubs tiredly at his eyes. “Are we really going to fight about this, too?”
“No,” says Henry hotly, “because this part is not up for discussion. You’re the one with exams tomorrow, so I’ll be taking the couch tonight, thanks.”
“Hen,” Alex starts, but Henry walks past him into the kitchen. He’s hanging on by a death grip to his very last shred of dignity when all he wants to do is let go.
.
His cloudy mood dissipates halfway through doing the dishes. Still, it takes with it more than just anger, draining him totally, leaving him not so much clear-headed as feeling like he’s all hollowed out.
Henry knows he’ll get no sleep tonight.
It’s not the couch itself, of course; it’s that even after all this time, sleep still doesn’t come easily without Alex there beside him. It’s David worrying at Henry’s feet, making distressed little snuffling sounds. It’s that no matter how small the fight, or how infrequently they do it, each time it never fails to awaken in Henry all the old fears that Alex will leave him. That Alex will finally decide he’s had enough of—well, all of this. All of Henry.
He tries not to think it too often. It’s not fair to Alex, and to the beautiful life that they’ve built together, but when 3AM comes and the semi-delirium of no sleep sets in, those fears are harder to write off as not real.
He wants nothing more than to go to Alex. To hold him and tell him how sorry he is, that he’s asked for more than he has any right to. That loving someone like Henry is neither simple nor easy, he knows, and he wants to be better, he will be better, for Alex. But that would be letting his fears speak for him, saying he’s less than, that the broken things in him are simply not meant to be loved.
Henry can do better than that. Alex would never stand for such talk, and perhaps more importantly, Henry will not stand for it either.
He tosses and turns, and lets the fears have their moment, looming large there in the dark. And then he gathers a blanket around his shoulders and heads up the stairs.
.
The light is still on in their bedroom. Henry can hear the flip of a page, the faint scratch of a pen from behind the door. He closes his eyes and pictures Alex at their desk, a hand through his hair, his forehead creased in concentration. Henry’s soothed by the routine of it, the familiar touches of a life with a person he knows so well and loves more than it should be possible to love another person but isn’t.
And he owes it to Alex, to let Alex love him back the same way.
Henry tucks himself in right there in the hallway, content just to know that Alex is there, and to not demand anything more of him than that. The fears retreat to their shadows once more, back to a smaller haunting—always there, a part of Henry, but a part that he knows Alex loves, just as fiercely as the rest of him, always.
.
He’s not certain how long he’s dozed for, but the next thing he knows is the feel of Alex’s lips on his brow. The soft way he murmurs, “Baby. Scoot over. David, you too. How long have you been here? Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“Mm.” Henry cracks a bleary eye open as Alex drapes something heavy around them. His arms encircle Henry next, and it’s hard to think of a reason to move now that it feels like they’re both where they should be. David noses his way beneath the covers, shifting down to curl at their feet. “Love, are these our bed linens?”
“Yeah,” says Alex, nuzzling into Henry’s neck. That one simple touch is enough to make Henry’s entire chest ache with relief. “Was going to sneak onto the couch next to you. This works too though. Fuck, I missed you.”
“We shouldn’t stay on the floor,” Henry tells him, burrowing closer, breathing him in. His words are half-muffled against Alex’s chest. “You need rest, in an actual bed. You’ve worked hard and you deserve the world to show for it.”
“Don’t need any of that,” says Alex. “Just you. I will fight you on that part,” he adds when Henry opens his mouth. “I’m so pissed at myself that you thought for even a second any of those things could matter to me more than this.”
“No, I’ve been selfish,” frowns Henry. “I’ve been too focused on what I want, and what makes me happy, and—”
“Good,” says Alex. “It’s about fucking time.”
And then he leans in and kisses Henry like it’s everything Alex wants too, Henry defending himself, Henry fighting for what he wants and deserves. Henry, knowing he’s loved, and loved, for all that he is and never for a single thing less than that.
189 notes
·
View notes
do i know you?
coffee girl: part 2
pairings: luke hughes x fem!reader
summary: y/n's first day on the job, after her encounter big spill with luke hughes. her first day's is going as expected, until she locks eyes with luke, the tension begins to unfold.
wc: 1.6k
warnings: nervous and shy reader and luke. cuteness overload, cussing. fluff? nothing too crazy yet! cliffhanger kinda AGAIN
authors note: OMG HI!! i'm so so sorry it took me forever to get this up. college is actually kicking my ass. (someone help me). ANYWAYS this chapter is more of a filler, more reader focused. we will be getting to the good stuff soon, promise!!! thank you for all of your love and support, so so thankful. like and reblog if you enjoy. as always much love.
happy reading <3
Holy shit I got the job. I got the fucking job. The job that I was late to my interview for, because I ran into cute, sweet, day ruining Luke Hughes, spilling coffee on me and now we’re here.
I'm practically skipping out of the prudential Center, a smile on my face that nothing can take off, even the split coffee on my shirt.
I start the walk back to my apartment, with a pep in my step. opening my door, my little orange baby Moe greeting me at my feet.
“Hi, little baby” “mommy got her job” I said to him in a whiney pet voice as I lifted him up into my arms, cradling him into my chest. God, I need more friends, I think to myself.
But none of that matters because I got my dream job, that world is on my side right now. I put Moe back on the ground after our cuddle session, picking up my bag and making my way towards the bathroom.
I take in my state, Luke's hoodie still covering my body, his scent filling my senses. Letting out a deep sigh, I pulled off the hoodie and put it in my laundry basket. Slowly making my way to my closet, pulling on the first things I find, and plopping myself into my bed.
My eyes began to slowly close, the events of today filling my mind as I drift off to sleep.
—
Today is the first day of my job. I'm shitting bricks, I'm not ready for this. You can do this y/n I think to myself, this isn't anything you haven't done before. You are more than qualified for this position. You've worked with athletes before, but these are insanely attractive athletes, but most importantly Luke Hughes is one of them. Fuck…Luke Hughes.
Im quickly pulled out of my day dream, when the elevator door dings open. Swiftly making my way to my office, my office.
Walking into the office I call my own, seems unreal, looking around once I set the box of my things on my desk, along with setting my purse in one of the chairs in front of it. Walking around the space taking it all.
I'm quickly pulled out of my daydream again today when I hear a man's voice behind me.
“I'm guessing youre y/n y/l/n?” turning around quickly, to meet eyes with the nameless man standing in the doorway.
“Hi yes, I'm y/n, nice to meet you?” I say holding out my hand to the man, whose name I still haven't gotten. “Hi, it's lovely to meet you! I'm Tyler but everyone calls me Ty!” Tyler or I guess ty says, shaking my hand with a smile on his face.
“I'm guessing you like your place?” Tyler says behind me as we both look around the office, “Yes it's great! I love it already '' I smile back at him.
“Great! Hope you're ready, to meet the team, in about… 5 minutes” he says, as he checks his watch. Oh god, in 5 minutes, i haven't even unpacked yet. Oh gosh what if they all hate me. Oh my god, Luke. Will he remember me??
“I can see everything you're thinking on your face, they're going to love you, the whole team is excited to meet you. It's not everyday we get a female athletic trainer.” Ty says to me pulling me out of my thoughts, calming me down slightly.
“Thank you, i needed that” I sigh out back to him
“Of course, are you ready?”
“Yes? I think” Ty chuckles in response, as we make our way out of the office.
“I'll give you a better in depth tour than the one you've had earlier, later. Sound good?” he says from beside me, nodding my head in agreement. As we make our way through the halls of the center.
We finally make our way to what I think is the Devils locker room, my heartbeat begins to pick up.
“The boys finished up practice about 45 minutes ago” Ty says as he's going to open the door, his back now turned to me. “I'm going to go in first to make sure they're all dressed and somewhat put together” he chuckles out to me.
“Okay, I'll be here,” I say before he enters the locker room.
It feels like 30 minutes goes by, but it's actually probably only been 2.
I see Ty head pop out, “y/n, are you ready?”
“Yes!” NO I want to say, but I'll keep that to myself. Taking a deep breath, I follow Ty into the locker room.
Walking in the locker room, I instantly feel 40 pairs of eyes on me. Oh gosh this is scarier than I thought, I say to myself.
“Gentleman, this y/n, our new athletic trainer!” Ty says gesturing to me, our eyes locking briefly, silently asking me to say something.
“Hi guys! I'm y/n! I'm really excited to work with guys "I say, as I pause to try and think of something else to say.
“I'm not going to lie, I'm not sure what else to say… you guys make me nervous.” I laugh nervously. The whole room erupted in chuckles.
They found that funny? I'll take it.
“I like her already” I hear a few players chuckle out. My nerves are finally beginning to settle, until I lock eyes with him. Luke.
It feels like my whole world stops, as his eyes lock with mine, our eyes swimming in each other, his gaze is so strong, it's almost like he’s trying to figure out who I am.
I'm the first to break contact. Turning around to only get pulled into a conversation with the training staff, as they quickly pulled me out of the locker room, to show me around the rest of the building.
I can't shake the feeling of Luke's eyes on me, as they show me around. My mind is still foggy from our interaction.
—
My “first day” was more of a tour and getting the feel of where everything was. I was even able to get my office together. This is beginning to feel like home I think to myself. Im pulled out my thoughts when I hear a knock on my door.
“Come in!” I shout out, from my desk, my face in the paperwork I'm currently filling out, not bothering to raise my head, thinking it's one of trainers.
“One second, just trying to do this last bit of paperwork” I say, as my pen is quickly moving across the page.
“You're okay, take your time” says the voice that I know oh so well, the voice that's been stuck in my head for the last 4 days.
I slowly bring my head up from my desk, my eyes slowly taking over Luke's figure, taking in his appearance. He's just as beautiful as I member
Quickly snapping out of my trance, clearing my throat “Hi Luke, did you need something?” I ask as politely and professionally as I can.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” Luke quickly says to me.
“Um.” I am trying to figure out a way to continue this conversation.
I feel Luke's eyes run over my face for the second time today. I see his mouth slowly open, as he runs his hand over his face, letting out a sigh.
“Oh my gosh, you're the girl I spilt her coffee on like a week ago aren't you?”
“It's actually been four days but, yes that's me.” I say back letting out a breathlily laugh to my desk.
“Shit, i'm so so sorry” he rambles out quickly. “Its okay, I promise, it was an accident”
“But I made you cry, oh my gosh. You were on the way to your interview here, weren't you?”
“Yes I was, but it worked out, I still got the job,” I say, gesturing to the room around us.
“This is so embarrassing, I'm so sorry.” Luke begins to apologize again.
“Hey hey, i promise it's okay” i say getting up from my desk, walking around to lean up against the front, to stand in front of Luke.
“We can start off again on a better foot if you'd like?” I say holding out my hand to him, “Hi, I’m y/n” my hand still being held out in front of him, luke's eyes look me up and before he grasps my hand finally shaking it. “Hi, I’m Luke” he says, staring my eyes.
“It's nice to meet you” I smile out to him, as our hands drop, his touch still lingering. “You're really pretty when you smile” Luke rasps out to me.
My cheeks begin to heat with a blush, lowering my head, now looking at my feet.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, you didn't” i say suddenly “it just surprised me, that's all”
“Good,” he says quietly, our eyes locked in a soft gaze.
“I-I should probably get going, let you get back to work.” “Yeah of course, thank you for stopping by” I say, for some reason I don't want him to leave.
“We’re really happy you're here y/n” luke says to me, there's something about the way Luke says my name, that makes my heart stop for a second.
“I'm really glad, I'm here too.”
“Have a great day” he says to me as he makes his way to the door. “You too!” I say turning back to behind my desk.
Luke turned back once more, to take one final glance in my direction, smiling softly at me again, before closing the door behind him.
I released the breath I didn't even know I was holding out, letting my shoulder fall a little bit.
This job is going to much more difficult than i thought, and it's all because, of my stupid coffee and Luke Hughes.
109 notes
·
View notes
I'm so jealous of Daniil. Having only played the Haruspex route so far in both game, each time I'm invited to the Bachelor's place I turn green with envy at how he resides at an actual proper house with a real room and a real bed.
A real bed with a whole bedframe. A pillow with an actual pillowcase!! His bed even has sheets!
He has WINDOWS. His house is in a nice neighbourhood, and his roommate is a very attractive woman. There is actual furniture in his room. Not one hint of fungus growing on the walls or rust!
Can you imagine living there as your lair? Spending the whole game knowing you have a real house with a real bed to go back to at the end of each night? Seeing Eva's face every day before leaving to do quests?
Meanwhile, Artemy is stuck in this dumpster room of an abandoned factory. Cuddling with rats on his makeshift bed, held by nothing but a wooden panel, some boxes and a dream.
A pillow so yellow it has its own ecosystem where bugs established real estate. Is that even a pillow or is it some random rock Artemy found and chucked in there? Is it a stale loaf of bread?? Why is it hard looking?
But no, you don't even get to keep the rock roach pillow because in P2, they take it away.
Fuck you Artemy, you had it good for too long. No pillow now because what are you gonna do about it?. Fold your mattress instead to have a resemblance of a faux sense of protection under your most vital organ during the long hours of death rehearsal that you call sleep.
Somehow, they made the bed even more unstable looking. As if that thin panel in the middle could hold Artemy's weight without caving in. Oh, and apparently, I ran out of boxes to use for furniture because the bed and the table have to share custody of the same box.
We have downgraded into barrels now, as you can see :) No, I don't know what they used to contain inside.
Waking up every day to Sticky's snotty face telling me not to spit in the wind and nagging me about cleaning up the week-old human organs thrown around that are stinking up the place.
THERE IS MOLD GROWING ON MY WALLS. RUST FLAKES FALL FROM THE EXPOSED METAL PIPES DOWN INTO MY CEREAL EACH BREAKFAST.
This single wall holds so much mold and fungus that they started crossbreeding and evolved into new, never seen before types of bacteria. Satan's asscrack is more hygienic than whatever biohazard plagues of Egypt this slab of concrete contains.
I live in the gutters. My only neighbours are an illegal gang of minors with a hatred for furries and another illegal gang but of adults this time who sell me bullets way above the market price. A dangerous neighbourhood where you can't have shit because SOMEONE STOLE MY BULL.
The basement I reside in has no windows, the smell is pungent and fucking vile down here. There isn't even a space for a bathroom.
This is my kitchenette/bathroomette/showerette/cupboardette/surgery tools disinfection stationette/sinkette/watercoolerette/toilette/fridge.
also my buckets yk.
One bucket for the makeshift bathroom, another for holding important organs and loose guts during surgery, a third one as a cooking pot for making tasty meat grub soup and the final one for murky water after sweeping the floor.
What do I use to tell them apart? Oh nothing :) I just mix em up every now and then, oppsie daisy.
Oh and the floors are CONSTANTLY wet for some reason. Yeah sticky slipped and almost broke his neck the other day so watch your steps.
There is also this eerie room with literal garbage and broken furniture right next to the entrance. Don't worry about it, sometimes I hear someone crying and screaming for help when I'm trying to go to sleep but it's just the factory being silly lol.
Now this? This is where the M A G I C happens. This is where Artemy the Menkhu makes his famous herbal remedies and natural mixtures. This is where the Panacea for the infamous sand plague gets made!
In a rusty empty food can.
Falling into a bucket with shit stains.
MEDICINE BABBYYY. GET YOUR WEAK SOFT BONED ASS BACK TO THE CAPITAL BITCH, THIS IS HOW REAL MEN MAKE REAALLL MEDICINE!! RAWRRRRR🦅🦅💥💥
Meanwhile, dickovsky has the view of the cathedral and polyhedron just around the corner from where he resides. He has a backyard with a lake, and all I have is a swamp behind my basement. I trudge through the mud each night, collecting weeds and herbs to mix and trade so I and the two orphans who adopted themselves into my life don't go starving.
Not to mention the gaggles of herb brides loitering outside and giving me a false bad reputation.
That dandy douchbag has a pharmacy, a grocery, and a tailor right next door. The closest establishment to my shrekcore place of resident is a dingy basement bar with shady drinks and no bouncer to check for ID, I saw two kids in there once.
Pov: a qt3.14 surgeon says his dad isn't home and invites you over.
129 notes
·
View notes
I love you and your writing. It makes me so happy to read your works!
Imagine Jason having his s/o move in with him. Imagine all the possibilities.
Like arranging the furniture together, showering together, taking turns cooking.
Or taking power naps together. I love me some soft Jason.
Omg stop!!! You’re literally so kind! Thank you for sending all these little scenarios, I always have so much fun writing them. Also, my apologies for getting back to you so late, I hope this little blurb makes up for it, enjoy reading!
Jason stares at the small key in his large calloused hands and then at charcoal door in front of him. This is it, he thinks to himself. He runs his hands through his hair and then shifts his gaze to your face, it’s beaming with excitement. Jason tries to hold back his smile, but finds himself unable to do so. He reaches over to your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
He’s waited for this moment for a long time. He’s dreamt of owning a place with you, of days where the both of you will go to sleep together and you’ll still be there in the morning. He’s dreamt of making you breakfast and kissing your forehead before you go to work or school and then have you come right back home… to him.
Jason’s emotional honestly, there’s something so tender and domestic about the idea of building a life together in this apartment.
The apartment, it’s not very big and the walls are an awful shade of grey. The paint is chipping in some places and there’s some obvious water damage. But none of that matters because it’s yours. It’s your home and that thought alone is enough for you and Jason to be happy.
You’re both sitting in the empty kitchen, unpacking your boxes and Jason can imagine spending the rest of his life here with you.
He takes a mental picture of the moment, tucking it deep in his mind and engraving it in his heart. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he walked in through the door, he feels content, at peace.
You and Jason spent weeks scavenging through different vintage shops to find the perfect decor and furniture. There were countless trips to Ikea and multiple trips to the mall.
All of it was coming together now.
The thought of saying “our home” instead of “my house” made Jason feel giddy. He finally had a place to call his own with a person who felt like serenity.
Hours go by and you’re still working on getting your new place sorted.
You’re both sprawled out on the living room floor, putting together your new coffee table. There’s screws scattered across the floor and bubble wrap on the couch. There’s music playing on one of your phones as the speaker is still packed away in one of the boxes.
“This is so much fun! It’s like building life size legos,” Jason suddenly exclaims and you stare at him unamused, the hours of working finally catching up to you.
“Shut up Jay! You’re talking too much, I lost my page again,” you reply looking back at the paper manual in your hands, trying to find your page again. Jason looks up at you with a small pout.
“Don’t be mean, you know I’m sensitive,” he tries to say seriously, but the little smile on his face says otherwise. you shuffle over to his side on the floor and ruffle his hair.
“Aw I’m sorry baby, I’ll be nicer,” you say, realizing it might be time to take a break. “Should we postpone building furniture for a bit, I’m starving.” His face lights up and before you know it, he’s already in the kitchen gathering ingredients to make you soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. There’s not much in the fridge, but he’ll make do with what’s there.
You stare at him from across the room and this time, it’s your turn to click a mental photograph of the moment. He looks beautiful in your new kitchen, his hair’s messy, it’s in his eyes and he takes a second to push away the bangs. Then, he continues working away near the stove, humming along to the song playing on your phone. You can’t help, but admire him. You look forward to seeing him like this forever.
You make your way over to the kitchen and take a seat on the island counter, opposite to the stove. Jason tosses the final bit of ingredients in the pot and lets everything simmer. He looks over at you, leaning against the counter. He crosses his large arms against his body, his face soft and relaxed.
“I’m really happy, you know,” he says, grinning, and you scrunch your face into a big smile.
“I know Jay, I’m so happy too.”
136 notes
·
View notes
dear (ex)lover.
group: stray kids !
pairing: idol!kim seungmin x f!reader
genre: pure angst, letter
warnings + additional info: seungmin is referred to as seungmin and min, seungmin was (and still is) a dick, seungmin is a player, seungmin led reader on, reader reminisces the past, reader blames seungmin for the downfall of their relationship (rightfully so), reader has past trauma from relationships, mentions of waiting till marriage, reader has body image issues, reader has been depressed, reader has trust issues, reader misses seungmin, just a really really sad angsty letter, intended lowercase, written in letter format.
authors note: okay. im so sorry for this... this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)
wc: 1033
dear lover,
why don’t we talk anymore? i remember, you told me i was your best friend once. i remember, i was your best friend before i was your lover. i understand, your love for me is gone now, but weren’t we supposed to be friends? didn’t you tell me we could go back to the way it was? so why don’t you talk to me? why do you avoid my eyes when you see me? why do you ignore my texts?
why do you only speak to me when it’s convenient for you?
i remember when i first opened up to you, my love. i told you i didn’t fit in with the group. i didn't think you needed me, and i didn’t think the others did either. you told me you didn’t know you needed me until i was in your life. do you still need me? why did you love me like that if you were just going to ghost me in the end? we talked about so much. you bought me my wedding ring. i wore my heart on my sleeve for you. you gave me a promise ring. why did you break your promise? why did you write so many love letters to me, knowing that you were leaving in the end?
what did i do to be treated like this? i should have been better to you, right? it’s my fault, right? i had to have done something… right? what did i do? i can do better, i can. i can be a better friend, i promise. you were my first real friend. you held me when things were hard. i need you to hold me once more. you always did my hair all nice to distract me. i miss when you’d braid it. you even played with my stuffed animals with me. you were the first person who accepted me for me.
why don’t you like me anymore? why am i always the one to approach you? did you only speak to me because i spoke to you first? was this all one-sided and you only spoke to me because i annoyed you till you replied? i didn’t know. i didn’t know that i was being annoying. i didn’t realize it. i thought you wanted me too. i’ve been having nightmares again. you told me you’d be there. it’s funny, isn’t it? you promised you’d always be there, but now you’re the cause of them. you broke my trust. you fucked up, and i forgave you. again and again, i forgave you. i took you back for every mistake you made.
why did you take my heart for granted? why did you break me like this? am i unlovable? did you grow tired of me? could you not stand me anymore like the others? the boys told me what you said about me. what you said about my body. i know i don’t look the same anymore, but can’t you still love me? am i really all that different now? or maybe you just don’t want someone who rots in bed all day. yeah, they told me that part too. maybe you couldn’t deal with my past trauma. i’ve lost people in the past like i lost you before. you told me you wouldn’t leave me. not the way they did, at least. but you did. you left, and you ruined me in the process.
maybe i am unlovable. maybe this was meant to happen. was it for the better? did you mean it when you said you loved me those last nights we spent together? did you find it fun? breaking my heart? was it nice to watch me fall apart that night on my bedroom floor? was it fun to use my own pain against me? was it fun telling me it was my fault? did it take some of your guilt away?
i’m mad at you, still.
but a part of me still loves you. a part of me still wants to forgive you, and i don’t know why. i shouldn’t, i know. you don’t deserve my forgiveness. you don’t deserve anything i have to offer. but i still want to forgive you. i still want to love you like i used to. i still want to tell you that im here for you, and i still want to hold you while we fall asleep. i still want to brush away your tears, and i still want to do your skincare for you. but you’re fading away from my life. i don’t know the person i fell in love with anymore, because they aren’t you. i miss his sweet voice, and i miss his melting touch. i miss the sound of his heartbeat, and i miss his heart. but it’s always going to be you, isn’t it? it’s always been you. you’re the person i love most, but the feelings are fading away too. i want to keep them with me. i want to hold it all so tight that your love can’t escape anymore, but you’re gone. you’re gone, and you took my heart with you.
i’m sorry. was i not good enough for you? i wish i could have been the one for you. i don’t know if i’m allowed to say it, but i miss you, min. i miss our late night laughter, i miss our runs to the coffee shop. i miss the bond we had. where did it go? why am i the only one putting effort into this stupid friendship anymore? why do i always text first? why am i begging for you to love me again?
it’s stupid.
this is stupid.
you’re stupid.
i hate you.
i hate you for using me.
i hate you so much for ruining us.
i hate you for ruining what we had.
i hate you for ruining every memory with you.
i hate you for ruining me for anybody else.
you ruined me.
they’ll never be you.
no one will ever be you.
i hate you, kim seungmin.
i hate you.
i miss you.
i miss you, and i hate it.
i hate it.
i hate you.
i love you,
your ex lover.
</3
110 notes
·
View notes
|| What Took him so Long?
Summary: For a long time I’ve wanted a comfort fic dealing with Bucky’s arrival in camp and the assumption that once he got there, found his men and was relatively safe, he had a big adrenaline crash and needed a ton of loving care. So I wrote it into this world.
Note: I wrote so many of the boys for the first time this time and, well, it was fun but have mercy I’m new here
Continuity: This segment follows the events of First Night
Thanks: I owe dear @hogans-heroes a lot for helping me sort my screams about multiple different aspects of this fic and for how much depth they’ve added to my own love of these guys. Also to @ab4eva @blurredcolour and @crazymadpassionatelove
Warnings: usual universe warnings apply, 18+,additional graphic recounting of past violence and rape, descriptions of injuries from the same, angsty conversations and misplaced blame, the boys trying to give all six foot two inches of dead weight Egan a bath
“It’s Ida,” Brady’s nimble hand was deceptively strong when clutching Gale’s bicep and shaking him to wakefulness early in the morning, “she won’t fuckin’ respond but she’s bowin’ up ‘till I think her neck might snap.”
Well that got Gale tumbling out of his bunk, out from Maureen’s hold on his face, swollen thumb on his tongue. The hell had he been thinking last night? The raucous noise of his landing to his feet woke the others, Crank instantly startled at their hovering over Ida.
“What’s wrong?”
“Dunno,” Gale replied, staring down at Ida Brady who was suddenly quite still again, “when’d the jerks start?”
“About an hour ago. She didn’t move before that.” John reported and Gale was sure it was an accurate report as Brady’s eye bags suggested he’d not even slept a wink. “She’s cold but she kept seizing so I stopped holding her.”
Gale bit his lip and tried to recall how pale was deathly pale, or just, pale. He bent over her and placed his fingers against her pulse, relieved to find a strong heartbeat in her neck. Maybe too strong, but he wasn’t about to start picking apart mercies. He was trying to measure it to his watch’s third hand when she started again, neck truly so bowed beneath his fingers he understood the impression of it close to breaking. He took his hand away discomfited and by this time Crank had joined them to stare down at her but those eyelids didn’t even flutter.
“We shoulda called a doctor last night.” Crank fretted, “She wasn’t just tired, not after what she’s been through.”
What she had been through was not something that had been discussed really, and so, it had been happily tabled as a past occurrence when she came in last night and toppled into the bunk straight after showers. Now their silence on the topic seemed like the sort of lethal discretion that kills amongst “polite” societies.
“Well, let’s get one now.” Gale snapped, “Crank -find the one who sewed my cut. Vega, I think, Vargas, something like that. He’s here, in the south compound.”
“You got it major.”
As Ida quieted again, Gale tried his hand at her pulse once more. A few moments later she was writhing in her sleep again.
“Since she seizes everytime you touch her, how about ya stop touching her?” Demarco’s word of wisdom filtered in from his bunk.
Chastised, and with shared looks of alarm at their foolishness, Gale and Johnny retracted their hands to clasp behind their backs and waited in that mock parade rest until the doctor came in, dark expression on his face and a very deflated medical bag at his side.
“It’s one of the women?” he asked, shouldering between the two men.
“Yeah, our colonel.” Gale supplied before relaying in brief terms the timeline of her stay here, her symptoms, her rather obvious injuries.
“We might be dealing with a concussion,” the Doc warned upon inspecting her face, “how’d she get these?” he asked about the swollen cheek and torn temple.
Gale turned to Maureen who still sat in her bunk, quiet, oddly quiet. “I saw her get punched once, I think it was on that side. But it wasn’t so bad, the rest happened when they took her away from us.”
Doc Vega was inspecting the rest of her as he pulled the covers down, her shirt flaps up, bruises and more bruises visible and -“She’s bleeding through her pants. Is this a cycle or-?” He turned to Kendeigh expectantly and she only shook her head, making Brady turn away with a wounded noise and walk a convict’s lap around the table, breath shuttering out in rough huffs, fists shoved into his pockets. Maureen wasn’t sure how anyone expected to get on top of such emotions, much less a bother. She was sure as soon as she had energy for it, she’d start making some Germans pay, it didn’t matter which, someone needed to pay.
“With assault this severe-“ Doc Vega’s face was more than eloquent regarding his horrified assessment. “-she should be in hospital. You know that right? That’s what this is, sexual battery, and like the word suggests, it's damaging, very damaging. Not to mention infection, fever- she belongs in hospital.”
The silence was heavy except for Brady and his off kilter laps.
“If they take her, I don’t trust them to guarantee her Combatant status.” Gale’s jaw worked overtime as he stared down at the body of his friend, “German hospital might be the best thing to ever happen to her or the worst when they discharge her. She’d not want me to let them take her out of here. Not after she fought so hard to get in.”
“Then by god,” the doctor exclaimed, “take her to the camp doctor, there must be some supplies. Antibiotics at the least, aspirin perhaps. Something for the swelling, inside and out. Camp doctor has supplies, how many times do I gotta tell you guys -I don’t! Take her to him.”
“No!” John Brady spoke up urgently only to immediately appear chagrined at his slip as Gale Cleven turned a very suspicious eye on him, “I mean, sir, if we take her, the German doctor will just transfer her to hospital. He can’t see how bad she is.”
That was a valid point, Cleven had to give it to him, although he noticed Hambone’s own suspicious, cud chewing, background shuffling observation of his pilot. Every time that doctor was brought up, Brady mildly suggested that they not go to him, without fail. His mentions regarding the guy being German and illusions to his methods being foreign were wearing thin. There was a miasma of myth about the doctor that no one could actually credit for a single source and Cleven hadn’t expected Brady, sensible, steady, laconic and measured Brady, to be the one to start spinning folklore in a place like this. He had next to no patience for it.
“Brady,” he decided to have at it, “you gonna tell me why everytime I bring up medical care in this camp you act like I’m suggesting suicide?”
“Sir,” Johnny’s gentle eyes grew wide and ever more guileless, “I told you, that man isn't much good.”
“Even a trash physician who has supplies is better than a good one without.” Doc Vega pointed out as he prepared to take his leave, “I’ve done everything with what I have. There simply isn’t anything at my disposal. Packages got held up and didn’t have everything accounted for.”
“He probably takes the stuff.” Brady muttured.
“So he’s the one to go to.” Gale snapped.
“He’s not touching her.” Ida’s brother replied.
Gale pinched his nose as he watched Vega leave them, the guy’s useless little bag of nothing swinging by his side, “By not being good - do you mean a poor physician? Be clear, Damnit.”
As if sensing a penultimate conflict, the room soon cleared of everyone save Maureen who was too invested by curiosity and a healthy dose of her own suspicion.
“Sir I’ve told you, he -he operates outside his purview.”
“Son? I can’t even pretend to understand what that means.” Gale’s patience grew more lethal as it rubbed thin, “That could mean he uses leeches or he abuses his patients.”
Brady’s eyes darted back and forth from Cleven’s face to the plain beamed ceiling as if he could find his answer there. Manic and with an odd glitter easily mistaken for tears. The kid probably needed to sleep, or maybe he needed to fess up about the doctor. Either way, Gale found the whole thing more and more unsettling but also, aggravating.
“Now are you gonna tell me which is it? Or are you alright with me withholding help from dying men because Captain Brady’s too intent on staying vague?”
“He’s just odd, sir.” Brady gave a defeated huff, eyes still watery, “It’s nothing bad, I-I never said not to send them, sir. He just can’t see Ida. He can’t.”
Gale was intently watching Brady swallow hard and wrack his brain for another respectful appeal when Crack came barreling back in, the eagerness in his step reserved for only one thing these dismal days: “They’re here! There’s a new batch, bringing them in the front now, quick, there’s not a long line!”
Brady was up and darting out the room before Gale could blink, uncharacteristically excusing himself before his superior had dismissed him and leaving Ida behind, still motionless in her bunk.
“Bucky could be with them!” Brady explained as he dashed out, same old hope repeated for over a month now and Gale wondered when the guy was going to crack from one too many hits to the morale.
“Brady!” Gale called after him a beat too late, wondering who was going to stay with Ida, but after catching Maureen’s quizzical eye, Gale too bolted and left the woman in his lover’s charge, tearing out of the combine to have a word with his young Captain, fleece and cover on for a little added dignity the camp pallor had no doubt stripped him of.
The scars, too.
Brady was at the fence by the time Gale caught up, his wiry frame slipping between the surging mass of POWs come to greet and heckle the newcomers. Gale had long ago found it a dismal scene and wasn’t fond of watching after it, but Crank and Brady were too intent, and some heartsick need drove Gale to find such excuses for why he, too, always managed to be at the scene when a new batch trudged in.
And what the cat brought in today made Gale forget about everything, everything else but that tall, shuffling, bloodied mess of a man he knew was his friend. And, characterically, despite appearing half dead, Egan was asking after Cleven, like the crackers after the cheese, damn the association risks.
“John Egan! Your two o’clock!”
Like a sunbeam splintering a thundercloud, Bucky’s battered face split open in a beaming smile the second he’d registered Cleven’s own. Gale couldn’t help the effusion of bittersweet gratification at the immediate resumption of the old ways, the old sweetness between them, the nearness of a good man to help brave this hell.
“What took you so long?” he jabbed, but his friend’s face told a story Buck wasn’t sure anyone left in Stalag Luft III had the stamina to hear.
And just like that, Egan was shuffled past and into processing and it would be ages before he saw him again. When Gale turned his back and worked his way through the crowd, Brady was lingering in one of the clearings, hands clasped and a rote twirl of thumbs matching the catatonically grateful prayers on his imperceptibly moving lips. Or Gale sure hoped they were prayers, it was that or Johnny having finally cracked.
“You were right.” He gave the kid a pat on the shoulder, smiling gently at him as he seemed to come out of his relieved fog, eyes too big in that lean face and dark circles making reflective ponds below, “You were right, you said he’d make it.”
“I hoped he would.” Johnny didn’t sound like he was expecting to cash in those prayers so soon.
“I’m going to that doctor.” Gale informed him, leveling him a strong look, “I think we should get a little list for the other girls. Play it off, could be for anyone. Penicillin, sulfa, that sorta thing. Does that sorta thing cure…their sorta thing?” Cleven admittedly obfuscated towards the end, not really expecting John Brady to know what cured venereal diseases but more hoping for an opinion of solidarity, like one does when ordering a risky plate off the menu.
Major Cleven never learned whether Captain Brady thought penicillin would work or not, there was a commotion outside the main center compound’s administrative building, and then the sudden appearance of guards dragging between them a slumped figure.
A dragged body was bad in most situations, at the prison camp it was cause for more than a little ire and panic. When Gale recognized the stature of their burden, the familiar span of the shoulders, the dark mop of curls hung low, his own brisk walk turned into a full on sprint across the muddy yard, Brady at his heels full of the same enlightenment.
“The hell did you do to him?” Cleven bellowed at the reasonably perturbed guards who were already mounting a defense of their blamelessness for Egan’s unconscious state.
“Nothing!” the more fluent of the two protested, “He vas being processed, yes? And he falls over, like zat. Nothing. Did nothing. Check him, he is—“ the guard made a motion to his face signifying the battlement Gale had already noticed as Egan trudged in. Back when Egan was awake and on his own two feet. “We? Nothing!”
Gale took Egan from them like a mother being handed their child, full frontal weight of his large friend propped against him and he succeeded at little more than keeping them both from hitting the mud. He was already weaker than when he first got there and the proof was here in the staggering weight of a man he used to hold his own against. Crank and Johnny and Demarco were beside him before he can even look for assistance, expressions of compassion and anger at Egan’s plight all melding into a series of disbelieving grunts as they heaved him up between them, carrying his dead weight like a feedsack. Gale and Brady take under his arms, Crank and Benny his legs. Gale studied the completely bashed face of his friend, a seething deduction brewing as to how he came to be in such a state.
“The showers.” he directed his men as they stalled midway in the yard after having got the weight of him hoisted.
They created a stir as they went, the dire oddity of the scene drawing attention as they shuffled through camp.
“Holy shit, is that Egan?” Talullah Smith came to a sudden halt in their path.
“Move!” Gale told her. “Or get the door.”
“He even alive?” Murphy was with her, no doubt obeying Cleven’s order for no woman to be unattended around camp, and he scrambled alongside to help as they mounted the steps and passed through the door Smith held until they were in the dank and echoing, poorly tiled room. There were a few other men in here, washing clothes and dabbing at their underarms. The showers themselves were not on today, hadn’t been for days, and Gale knew the large trough sinks down the middle of the room were their best bet for a triage and an initial wash.
“Somebody get his boots off, come on.”
It was horrible, grunting, grappling work trying to keep Egan’s dead weight up as they tugged off encrusted articles of clothing one after another, cringing at the bruises each grip and pull necessarily aggravated.
“Sorry Bucky.” Demarco apologized repeatedly to the insensible man as he adjusted his grip on his ribs for Brady to pull the slate gray button up off him.
“Smith, you can go.” Cleven noticed her lingering by the door, consternation written all over her face at Egan’s state, Murphy shadowing her. It wasn’t suitable for a woman to remain for the rest of it, whatever skill she had at setting fingers was a little below the pay grade of John Egan’s injuries. “You and Murph, can go get Doc Vega. Again.”
He sent Brady a look but the boy was too busy to notice, helping pull a very discolored arm out of a Bucky’s standard issue, fleece-less jacket. “What’d the looney do with his sheepskin?” he asked.
“Gave it to, Kidd.” Brady grunted, “Right before Munster. Said you didn’t like it.”
I’ll be damned: no lucky deuce and no lucky jacket and no fighter escorts, how were they supposed to manage to stay in the sky with recklessness like that? “You sentimental sunnuvabitch,” he hissed mournfully at his friend’s flopping head as they got him stripped and the full extent of his bruises came in view, “-supposed to be the last ones up.”
If anyone else understood what he meant in his mournful rage, they didn’t heed it, and if they didn’t understand they also did not press him for his meaning.
“Let’s get him up.”
Collectively they grabbed a limb apiece again and hoisted Bucky, groaning themselves under the bare weight of him.
“What did his mother feed him?” Benny protested as they staggered, and dumped him onto the longest of the troughs, getting a weak moan of protest from their specimen at the cold and hard surface.
“Major?” Crank begged hopefully of his closed eyes as Gale worked at the pump on the faucet, the gurgle of chilled water preceding the blast.
“I’m gonna use this, lad.” Brady was informing one of the armpit washing boys down the way, swiping their washcloth with kind presumption and returning to squeeze it out under Cleven’s growing steam.
Gently as he had his sister’s scalp, Brady began to use the wet cloth to scrub and wipe at the blood dried in an ominous swirl around Bucky’s eye as Gale continued to pump.
“He’s gonna catch chill.” Demarco warned.
“Haul some buckets?” Gale asked if they were willing, the kitchen combine was not so far away with fires and tin pails.
“We’ll be back.” Benny agreed.
“Brady, go with him.” Cleven unceremoniously pried the washcloth from the boy’s hand; silent weeping was an art Gale had perfected as a child but he’d not seen it in a grown man until today, “Go.”
While they were gone Gale did his best to keep the chilled water somewhat diverted, with Crank’s help he even managed to roll Bucky on his side and probe at his blackened ribs. As is, Bucky began to shiver and when Doc Vega got there; he was none too gentle in his hurried and angry assessment.
“Fractured ribs.” he rubbed the washcloth across his face like he was sanding the deck back home, “Possible fractured orbit. Eye socket, Cleven, looks busted. Just keep him propped, hope his eye doesn’t fall back into his skull.” Gale stared back at him unblinking, there was only ever one question these days and after a beat Doc Vega answered it, “And no, don’t have anything for it.”
Brady and DeMarco had returned with their now tepid water in time to hear this. “Should we wash him?” Benny gestured hopelessly.
“Yeah, he’ll probably sleep it off. If we’re lucky. Get him clean, get him warm.”
Gale began to pump anew and Brady gently tipped his warm bucket over Egan’s clotted curls, running his fingers through to disentangle the crusted snarls. Unfortunately their irrepressible patient took the kindness for a waterboarding and began to thrash, sending a shower of cold droplets over his caregivers.
“Buck?” a wrecked voice, punctuated by chattering teeth, stalled them all. “I saw Buck, where’s Buck, I found Buck, wh-“
“Yeah, yeah Bucky, it’s me.” Gale dropped his task and crouched over him, shivering himself as the sink ledge dampened the front of his own clothes.
“Buck!” Egan begged again, arms reaching out until Gale found himself all but tipped into the sink himself, arms wound around Egan’s pale shoulders with their blooming blue mottle, “M’so goddamn cold, Buck.”
“I know, I know, I’ve got ya. I swear, I’ve got ya.” Gale squeezed him tighter, “Almost over. Gettin’ you freshened up. We’ve got ladies here now.” he joked.
John’s head rolled listlessly on Gale’s forearm and his sharp blue eyes flitted across the washroom ceiling until he caught sight of someone else dear hovering over him with another pail, “Brady, what’re you cryin’ for?” he croaked.
“You.” the kid didn’t miss a beat. “So sorry Bucky, I’m so sorry.
“Hey,” Bucky’s voice strengthened with vehemence, “s’not your fault. None of it.”
“Yeah,” Gale agreed, gently peeling a flake of blood off his ear, “that plane was going down anyway without your lucky jacket.”
Bucky somehow had the stamina and the facial expertise to look sheepish at that despite his disfigurement. “Why'd you guys put me in the sink? Animals! Get me out, too goddamn cold, get me out. Gale! Get me out.”
“Ok, ok, shh, ok.”
There was a compassionate scramble to help Bucky sit up and swing his legs over the side, the groaning and swaying of the Major a hardly promising sign for the excursion he seemed intent to make. Suddenly they were helping to prop him on his feet again, and while he was no longer the dead, unconscious weight of before, he was now six feet something of bare, slippery flesh vibrating between them all in a terrible chill. Murphy and Smith had brought blankets along with the Doc, and gratifyingly someone from their combine had proffered a t-shirt and fresh skivvies.
Crank and Brady swayed dangerously with his weight on their shoulders as Gale knelt down and made his shaking legs step into them. Bucky’s own hand arrested him standing up by placing a clumsy hand on his cheek.
“Where’d you get these?” he was thumbing at those scars Gale hadn’t managed to live down.
“Flack.” Gale maintaIned as he rose to his feet, “What the hell happened to you?“
Bucky gave him his old lopsided grin, “War, Buck.”
“Too much of this kind of war lately.” Crank pointed out unamused, wounds were one thing but what was with the abuse? It didn’t seem to stay away, even from the strongest or most esteemed of their number.
Bucky’s brow ticked in curiosity at the allusion to others but he was too drained to keep his thoughts ordered, “Marched us through a town, RAF had just paid a call. Townspeople didn’t exactly come out with flowers.”
“Holy shit.” Benny sucked his teeth in a grimace, noticing how the other men down the way paused their chores to listen in.
“They attacked you?” Cleven’s tone left little room for questioning.
Bucky gave them a wincing little smile, tilting his head in a shrug, “Yeah, guards just let them at us. I’m the only one who made it.”
“What?” Came up in a chorus, his doleful audience suddenly animated, “You mean they killed the rest?”
“One got knifed,” Bucky stared down at Brady’s work on lacing his boots, skivvies and boots, now he looked like all the other clowns here, “the others - guess they beat them, too. I heard shots. Woke up in a cart on the way to a nice, quiet little spot in the woods.”
“Jesus Christ:” Crank uttered, “Jesus Christ.”
“I’ll be ok.” Bucky muttered, scuffing his boots to see how heavy they felt, his limbs wouldn’t stop shivering and he had a sick feeling it wasn’t from cold alone.
“Yeah, you will.” Cleven’s pained eyes ordered him sternly and to swipe away that horrid crease between his brows, Egan would do anything.
“Yeah.” he agreed.
“Let’s get you a bunk.” Brady prodded, slipping back under one of his armpits, wiry shoulders having more strength in them than Bucky credited, “We’ve got a nice little sick ward going.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah; and no medical supplies.”
“Great.”
“Yeah, it’s a real well oiled machine they got here.” Benny snarked as the lot of them kept pace with Egan’s limps across to their combine -it wasn’t under discussion where he’d bunk, he would be in with them.
“What’d you name the place?” Egan asked dismally at the threshold of their combine.
“We didn’t.” Gale admitted his unimaginative oversight for the second time in twenty four hours on these same steps.
“No?” Egan slapped at the boring raw lumber and sniffed, “You let Maureen in billet in here?” he asked suddenly.
“Y-yeah.” Gale was wary and his defense at the ready, “All the women who’ve arrived so far are in this one, so we can help guard them. Yes, Maureen’s in with us.”
It was better just to say it, to head off the teasing and the suggestions and the disorder right away. Cleven smiled back at Bucky confidently, waiting for this friend to get a move on over the threshold.
“Huh, ok,” Egan made a funny little face; “then I christen you,” he went on addressing the combine itself, clearing his throat loudly to collect before spitting on the doorframe above Benny’s disgusted head, “Love Shack Number Nine.”
“Just -get your ass inside.” Gale shoved at him between his shoulders and Bucky -with Brady still tucked dutifully under a wing- entered his new home.
Gale gave him a preliminary roster of inmates in each barrack, “We’re down near the end.” and by the time they got to their own room Crank had to help support Bucky’s other side, the brief surge of energy the cold water and friendly faces had given him waning fast.
“Just so goddamn hard to breathe.” He tried to explain, wincing at the pull of his arms as they clumsily shouldered into their room.
It was empty except for Ida in her bunk and Maureen beside her who stood up fast as a lightning bolt at the sight of Egan. “Jumping Jehoshaphat, what happened to you?” She rushed him but pulled back before her usual greeting of hugs to survey the damage, suspecting a squeeze might be too cruel even by Egan’s standards.
“I’m ok, Candy.” he assured, smooth as butter as he reached for her and ran busted knuckles over the curl of her hair, “God you’re a sight for sore eyes after all these ugly bastards.”
“Really though, what happened?” she shied away from his pacifying touches, glaring at the others to start spilling the beans.
“They tried to lynch him.” Gale saw there was nothing for, she’d wheedle it out at some point and after what she’d seemingly endured, what exactly was he shielding her from? “Killed everyone else with him.”
Maureen’s worried eyes dulled sadly at this and she proceeded to hug herself, hands carefully tucked into her armpits, “Gosh, Bucky.” she mumbled.
“Hey, said I’m alright, didn’t I?” Bucky coaxed, swaying towards Maureen and laying a heavy hand on her small shoulder. It tipped him too far forward and he had to clutch at and brace himself on the bunk slat behind her head. Suddenly he was peering over her shoulder and instead of empty sheets as he expected in the lowest bunk, he found the bruised face of a superior he didn’t know had even been shot down. “What the hell happened to her?”
At the silence that followed this very simple question, Bucky swung his head round to stare the men down. It made the world rock, window blurring into the room in a nauseating sheet of white and Buck had too many eyes and all of them sad and Crank hadn’t even a face but a blob and his vision was shot to shit with spots but as no one said a word, he repeated his question in a yell that surprised even himself, “What happened to her?”
“The Gestapo kept taking them from the Dulag.” Brady’s voice was soft and thin in his ringing ears, like a child explaining the fate of a broken toy, “They even took them to a camp. A women’s prison camp.”
“Am I missing the part where any of that promises a face like that?” Bucky demanded, trying to get the goddamn window to stop whiting out his vision.
Gale’s voice was on his other side, the side without the window, he wanted to look at him but he was afraid to move his head again and for the spots to get large and everything go black one more time. “Long time before they’d recognize them as combatants, Bucky,” Gale laid a preemptively calming hand on Egan’s arm, “SS knocked them around bad.”
That’s all Gale really knew of it. Most of it had been gotten out of Smith who seemed most fit and most angry over it all. The others were skittish or tired.
“Knocked them around.” Bucky repeated bitterly, disbelieving Cleven’s moderate retelling, “Who’s them? Who else?”
“We’ve got a little over a dozen of the girls here.” Gale replied, “Brought them in a group, some downed weeks before others. Held them while figuring out what to do before they brought them here.”
“What to do?” Bucky knew he was back to yelling and the spots were getting excited from it, “Treat them like officers being a little too much to ask?”
“Like they treated you?” Demarco weighed in, if only to take the heat off his co-pilot, “Like they treated Buck?” -or maybe not.
“The fuck did they do to him?” Bucky really did try to turn his head this time and he was blindly groping for Cleven’s soft cheeks even as the spots took over his vision and his knees began to buckle. Gale grabbed him on the way down with Candy’s help, but Egan heard her exclamation of pain from it.
Steadied, with his hands back on the bunk slat, Bucky willed away the spots and stared down at Kendeigh’s supportive hands on his waist -or what shoulda been hands. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen an uglier set of paws.
“Were you with her?” he asked, gravelly and not to be ignored.
“Most of the time.” Maureen whispered back and if Gale could have cleared the room for her he would’ve.
“Then what the hell happened to her?” Bucky summoned the last bit of himself and stared down the auburn beauty of his erstwhile drinking buddy, “No really Kendeigh, answer me. I’m your superior, you don’t have recourse, you answer to me. What’re you gonna do, huh? Ask your fairy godmother colonel if you can ignore me? Huh? ‘Hey ida got a sec, Ida?’ No? Looks like her office is closed. Fucking talk to me, Candy. Start with those hands. What happened?”
“Someone stood on them.” -if Gale had to hear Maureen repeat it one more time in that monotone way he was going to start chewing through his cheek.
“Why?” Bucky always had such simple questions, it was one of his wisdoms and Maureen hated it right now, her eyes flashing and her face reddening as she ducked away from the stare of friends.
“So I’d stop fighting him.” The statement was hardly legible, her voice had gone so wispy.
“He, this ‘he’ -he knew you were an Officer?” Gale hadn’t thought to ask that, and he’d thought of so many things to ask that never made it out his throat, but Bucky did. “An army Air Force combatant?”
Maureen swallowed hard before throwing her head back, neck taut and nose flaring -Gale didn’t think he’d ever seen her more magnificent. “He knocked my cap off before it.” she answered at last, a cold hard meeting of blue eyes and Bucky stared her down, “And he laughed at the engraving on my belt buckle when he undid my pants.” There was dead silence for a beat before she went on, “They tore the wing patches off Ida’s shirt, you can see the holes there, see? Johnny’s not fixed them yet.”
Bucky slumped to a seat on Ida’s bunk, a shaky hand extending to push down the blanket and expose her shoulder, and there was a jagged tear in the standard issue, sure enough. “What’s Johnny been fixing?” he asked, voice hollow as he thumbed at Ida’s mottled skin, she was white as a ghost beneath the blue discoloration. Bucky wondered if he looked half as rough.
Johnny was then in a squat beside him, rummaging under the bunk before pulling out a pair of trousers. He tossed them into Bucky’s lap, wordlessly. Drab olive, Brady’s tidy repairs obvious due to the clashing thread, and also blood -so much goddamn blood down the inseams, meticulously scrubbed out but stained all the same and woven together by the white stitches. “You bastards let him do this?” Bucky asked the men incredulously, rage beginning to boil over and it didn’t have a single source and it certainly had no rightful outlet, “None of you can handle a fuckin’ needle? No? No, go on then, let a brother sew up this shit, let him get to think long and hard about what each fuckin’ rip means for his sister! You goddamn cowards -you haven’t even asked them! You haven’t talked about it with the girls, have you?”
“Bucky, Bucky come on now,” Gale tried reasoning with him, “they just got in. So did you. Let’s, let’s take it easy, save our mad for the ones who deserve it.”
“Oh, oh you don’t think that’s us then, Major Cleven?” Egan scoffed, “Because we didn’t do it, isn’t our fault at all?”
“It’s not!” Crank insisted behind Gale’s back, “Gonna blame Buck for your ribs, too?”
That defeated him. Bucky’s fury visibly dimmed in his eyes and Gale would have almost preferred the insulting rage over the dead helplessness that followed, it was too reminiscent of his own. “They’re safe, you’re safe.” he summarized gruffly, “Doc says sleep for both you and her.”
“Sleep.” Bucky mumbled as he looked back to Ida, trying to imagine with masochistic singleness of mind the sort of men who’d enjoy picking a strong woman like her apart -he could bring them to mind too easily. “Sure, just…sleep it off.”
“I don’t want her going to the doctor.” John Brady insisted once more like this had never been argued before in this very room.
“He no good?” was all Bucky asked.
“No sir.” Brady was emphatic and relieved to be taken at vaguest value.
“Brady’s the only one to say that,” Cleven butted in, “and he won’t specify.” Gale may have shot a glare at Ida’s brother, Bucky’s own predicament causing a double issue. “You need one, she needs one, too.”
“I-I trust my little Fox.” Bucky disagreed, although it was less impressive by both the use of a nickname and the slurring stumble that occurred right after as he attempted to get up from the bunk and pat Brady’s cheek. This small movement caused such disturbance in his fragile equilibrium that he would have nearly toppled if Cleven and Kendeigh hadn’t been at his side to catch him. “Goddamn! Goddamn, I’m dizzy as hell.” he repeated, “And cold. I don’t want a doctor, I want a blanket. And a nap.”
“Just what the doctor ordered.” Gale repeated dryly with a ghost of a grin that would have normally riled Bucky into smushing it between his fingers. He was too far away for that and Bucky was too dizzy to reach.
“M’gonna sleep for a week.” He announced.
“They’ll be in here for roll if you don’t show.” Gale begged.
“Good luck to them, moving me.” Bucky grumbled and shook a boot across the room before Brady knelt and helped with the other one. How many times had the sweet kid been shoeing him today? He should start calling him mom.
“They’ll come for her too, if she misses again.” Gale pushed, “A guard came and checked to make sure she was alive this morning.”
“They’ll just take her to the doctor.” Brady repeated hopelessly.
“No they won’t.” Bucky assured him, already fully convinced of two things Gale very much held in suspicion, and he’d been here under half an hour, “They won’t.” he repeated and, before anyone could fully credit their eyes, he appeared to use his last gasp of strength and dexterity to roll Ida Brady, none too gently, further in her bunk toward the wall before climbing in after her and sagging into the meager bedding.
“John!” Cleven had too many objections to itemize at present and all of them were tidily conveyed by use of his Christian name.
“They can’t take her from us like this, Buck.” Bucky was slurring worse than ever, now obstructed by a pillowcase and Ida’s torn head.
“She doesn’t wanna be touched.” Gale hissed urgently, side eyeing Demarco who seemed beyond caution and was now viewing this as analytically as a laboratory experiment.
“S’ok.” Bucky mumbled, “Ida always knows me.”
Gale and Johnny exchanged helpless looks, with Gale choosing to flavor his own with no small amount of accusation towards the younger man. But then, both occupants of the bunk became -and stayed- still, and no seizing episodes followed the heavy burden of Bucky’s arm over Ida’s ribs. So, with shrugs and outstretched hands of mere mortal impotency, they resigned themselves to life with Bucky in Love Shack Number Nine.
“I forgot how loud he could get.” Crank’s mutter broke the silence.
“We should get some salve at least.” Demarco observed with a nod to Bukcy’s face and Kendeigh, who had been oddly quiet and sat with legs swinging on her bunk, echoed in agreement.
“I thought maybe penicillin, too.” Gale asked the room at large.
“Why not ask for the keys to the front gate while we’re at it?” Crank snarked, “That krout sawbones never gave me shit for Murphy’s cuts, hasn’t even tended Hambone since he got out of hospital.”
“Hambone hasn’t gone to him because Brady has scared him off.” Cleven retorted, “Any of you have a better idea?”
“I could try.” Maureen spoke up, “He might -respond?- if a woman asked.”
“No.” Cleven shut that down with a sharp cut of his hand through the air, “No way in hell.”
“I’ll go sir.“ Brady’s soft assurance broke the tenseness, Gale watched the boy stoically as he rose from his place by Ida’s -and now Egan’s- bunk, and grabbed his pipe off the table, “Salve and penicillin?” he confirmed, face cocked shyly back at Cleven once more from the doorway.
“Salve and penicillin.” Cleven affirmed, “And Brady-“ he halted the boy, “-you sure about this?”
“He knows me.” Brady’s eyebrows drew together, a sudden strong expression on his face, nonplussed in a way that made Cleven feel like he was the one slow in the head, “Fixed the shoulder.” he reminded, gesticulating to the joint that had been dislocated by a poor parachute landing, no doubt caused by arguing too long and close to the ground in a spiraling plane with Major Egan. “I’ll get you the stuff, sir.”
Brady shoved his pipe in his mouth and dug his hands into his coat pockets as he walked down the drafty hallway. Conversations from the various rooms drifted to his ear, odd still to hear the high tones of female chatter amongst them. He found himself rolling his last bit of tobacco round and round in his pocket as he neared the door, he’d been saving it for a real doozy of a day; for some catastrophe that needed nicotine to wash it down, or else a holiday that deserved the special exception. Ramming his once hurt shoulder into the door to open it, Brady decided today would have to be significant enough.
The day he got salve and penicillin.
“You just chew on that thing instead of smoke it now?” The laconic humor of his bombardier startled him mid shiver, it wasn’t even that cold outside he just felt poorly and everything was getting real cold and awful as he stood rooted to their steps and eyeing the main compound.
“No, I was gettin’ ready to pack it.” He answered Hamilton, leveling him a scrutinizing look over the pipe in question, “How’ve you been keepin’ occupied?”
“This and that.” Hambone shrugged, gold teeth still glinting as he assessed Brady. “Where you headed?”
“Who says I’m headed anyplace?”
“Word is Egan’s here and half dead.” Hambone scratched at his scar, the rough sutures too late in being taken out and now causing irritation, Brady almost felt guilty for that. “And now you're out here eyeing the Pill Hut. I’d say you’re going to that doctor.”
Hambone never really got enough credit for his smarts, and Brady wished he’d stop using them only when it concerned things Johnny was already having enough trouble psyching himself up for -like radioing the tower to admit they were lost or visiting this freak in a white coat.
“They need some stuff.” He conceded.
“Gonna waste good baccy on it?” Hambone scoffed again, “Come on, I feel like a walk. Haven’t seen inside the place anyway, all your ghost stories were too spooky.” Hambone was mocking him, but he was also beginning to walk towards the hut with the plain expectation of accompanying Brady.
“Hambone-“
“With all due respect, just shut it, Captain.” Hambone gave him a look, and it was the first one today that made Brady feel seen without feeling all of two inches tall, “If I have to rub these stitches on those rough pillows one more night I’m gonna claw my face back open.”
Brady didn’t doubt he would, so in a spooked and complacent mood, pilot followed grinning bombardier down the muddy lanes to the doctor’s shack.
💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.
MOTA taglist, I only have one so ignore if this is not the universe you signed up for:
@stylespresleyhearted
@ab4eva
@earth-to-lottie
@suraemoon
@blurredcolour
@steph-speaks
@crazymadpassionatelove
@rubyfruitjungle
@taestrwbrry
@storysimp
@javden
@sexualparkour
@jointherebellion215
@sunny747
@ask-you-what-sir
@xxanaduwrites
@pretty4u
@yorkshirekiwi
@waitedforlove743
@elvismylove04
@blikebarbie92
@luminouslywriting
@euryno-j47
@justheretoreadthhx
@bookotter01
@mads-weasley
@ka-ski
@darkestbeforethedawn16
@slowsweetlove
@richardslady121
@barbeygirl
@prfctplcsreads
@vaf24
@harrys-housewife
@claireelizabeth85
@pearlparty
@piastrinho
@sapienti0sat
@atrophyingaphrodite
83 notes
·
View notes
(a "lucy fills their home with things" kacy piece)
Lucy isn’t exaggerating. She travels light.
She brings a few bags of things—clothes, mostly; a few picture frames of faces that Kate recognizes; a sizable shoe collection that forces Kate to weed through her own and finally get rid of a few pairs she’s been holding onto for no reason.
What she doesn’t bring is trinkets.
There’s no novelty mugs, no knickknacks from Lucy’s college years, no potted plants, no paintings or little figurines that Kate was worrying wouldn’t fit on the shelves with her things.
She didn’t need to worry, though. Lucy makes four trips and then stands in the living room with her hands on her hips and a smile on her face. She declares herself moved in and immediately goes to the drawer filled with take out menus; it’s a pho night.
Kate stares in wonderment for a moment. Four trips and that’s it? Her apartment is empty? Not that it would take Kate long to pack up her apartment, really, but it would certainly be more boxes. She’d have to pack the planters, the mugs, the baskets of blankets, the candles, the small collection of books, the stack of games she keeps for the possibility of a game night. It would take Kai and Jesse’s help, at least. But Lucy did it all by herself, up and down the elevator like she was going on a weekend trip, not moving an entire life from one apartment to another.
“I just don’t need a lot,” she tells Kate that night, a sheet pooled around her waist as she lays back on her pillow. “Work, gym, and you. I wasn’t kidding.”
Kate doesn’t need a lot either, but she does have small things. Jane bought her an orchid in a yellow pot that thrives in the living room. She has a few things from Northwestern on a shelf nearby. A stack of books on a side table. Three mugs with silly slogans she got as a gag gift in D.C. that she used to hide in the back of the cupboard before she didn’t care if Lucy saw them. A novelty, oversized fork that hangs by the stove. Just a couple of things that give her apartment a version of a personality without overwhelming things.
Kate ran a finger over the swell of Lucy’s hip and they hadn’t talked about it again.
-
Kate doesn’t notice it at first, rushing in the morning because Lucy rolled across her just before her alarm went off and they got caught up in each other. She needs to start putting her foot down because she’s been nearly late to work too many times since Lucy moved in. But every time she thinks about telling Lucy they can’t, they have no time, Lucy tosses those curls over her shoulder and bats her eyes and smiles that slow smile Kate always gives in to.
So she misses it, sitting on the kitchen counter. She doesn’t see it until later, peeling her silk shirt off with a groan as the fabric sticks to her skin. It was a hot day and she spent too much of it running around. Her texts say that Lucy is finishing up a few notes but she’ll be home soon—home, Kate thinks, smile unconscious—and can Kate please make fettuccine Alfredo if they have the right ingredients? Kate opens and closes the refrigerator and cabinets and they have the basics but she’ll have to go back out to get cream. She fires off a text to have Lucy stop and pick up a few things and finds a wine glass, pouring herself a drink.
When she puts it down on the counter she sees it: a small, golden set of letters, interlocked seamlessly so she can barely tell where one ends and one begins. A K&L so small that she could fit in the center of her palm. It’s tucked next to the coffee maker, inconspicuous. Kate frowns, picking it up and turning it over. She didn’t bring this home, and logically it could have only been Lucy who did, but when did she put it on the counter? Was it here yesterday? Just how unobservant has she been lately?
She holds it for another moment before placing it gently down on the counter where it was. A fingerprint shines on the golden surface but she doesn’t wipe it away. Something about erasing it makes her chest ache with an unknown feelings. She tucks it back a little, tighter to the coffee maker, and makes a note to ask Lucy about it.
Lucy barrels through the front door 10 minutes and half a glass of wine later, already laughing as she launches into whatever Jesse did to Kai today and Kate forgets to ask Lucy where the K&L came from, too caught up in her whirlwind and the bruising kiss she pulls Kate into to remember it.
They don’t have fettuccine Alfredo but Lucy, standing behind her at the kitchen counter as Kate lazily stirs peppers and onions and Lucy presses even lazier kisses to her shoulder, doesn’t seem to mind.
-
Things start appearing.
Kate thinks she might be going crazy, honestly. Every time she looks around, more things pop up. She finds a bonsai tree on the coffee table one night when she gets home from work and Lucy is stretched across the couch, snoring. A new candle is burning on the counter when she gets back from her Saturday morning surfing. A bobble head pops up on Lucy’s nightstand that looks suspiciously like Jesse. Kate blinks and the tissue box in the living room has a strange Dallas Cowboys cover on it that she didn’t realize you could still buy. Then there’s a caricature of the two of them Kate doesn’t remember sitting for tucked onto the wall with all of their degrees. An NCIS mug finds its way into the cupboard and behind it is one with “Aloha Hawai’i” on it.
Kate looks around their apartment and wonders how Lucy keeps sneaking things in without her noticing. Or why she’s sneaking them in the first place.
But she doesn’t mind them. She does thinks the bobble head is creepy and she makes Lucy turn it to face the wall whenever Lucy’s hand snakes across the sheets to Kate’s thigh. But the rest of them, things her mother would probably turn her nose up at, don’t bother her. They’re cute, if a little kitschy. They bring a little life into their home, pops of color that Kate wouldn’t have thought to bring in herself.
Lucy doesn’t say anything about them either. She just keeps adding things: a wooden sign for the bathroom with a giant palm tree on it that takes Kate a week until she decides that no one sees their bathroom because no one visits; a three-candle holder sprayed a deep teal color that Kate thinks looks like the ocean before a storm: a new coffee pod container with a subtle rainbow on it; a small hand-painted pineapple.
Kate just lets these things pile up in their apartment and silently brings Ernie the bobble head after its beady eyes follow her around her bedroom in her towel.
-
“Okay,” Kate finally declares when she comes home to find a small clown figurine on the counter next to the wooden, painted bowl Lucy bought to house their oranges. “We need to talk.”
Lucy looks up from peeling one of those oranges and her brow furrows. “That’s never good.”
Kate frowns before it clears. “Oh, not like that.” She follows her words with her hands curling around Lucy’s waist and pressing a kiss to the top of Lucy’s head. She points to the clown. “About this.”
“You don’t like clowns.”
“I do not like clowns,” she confirms. “But I meant, where are all these things coming from?”
Lucy looks confused. “Where is what coming from?”
Kate sweeps an arm across their apartment and things Lucy has been bringing home. “All of this. The knickknacks. The trinkets. The… clown statue.”
Lucy brightens. “Oh, do you like them? Not the clown, obviously. I will get rid of that. Ernie is strangely afraid of clowns, too.”
“I didn’t say I was afraid. They’re just unnatural,” Kate insists. She shakes her head, getting back on track. “But where are they coming from?”
Lucy shrugs. “Everywhere. Whenever I see something I think you might like, I pick it up. This place was a little… boring. It needed some personality.”
Kate frowns. “It wasn’t boring. I just... wasn’t here a lot.” She leans one hip against the counter. “So you were just going to fill our place with ‘personality’ until we suffocate under screen-printed blankets and dog statues?”
“Well, you never said anything about them.”
“Neither did you.”
Lucy shrugs again. “I figured you’d say something if you didn’t like them.”
Kate softens. She tucks some of Lucy’s hair behind her ear. “I like them. Most of them,” she amends. “The sign in the bathroom is not my favorite. But the rest of them, I like,” she rushes to add. “I just didn’t think you were someone who liked those things. I mean, you literally brought nothing but clothes and shoes when you moved in.”
Lucy abandons the orange, turning until her stance mirrors Kate’s. She looks thoughtful as her gaze slides towards the open balcony doors. “My house growing up was… spartan. Not that it was empty, but we were doing the minimalist thing before it was cool. And so I never had these things. The knickknacks, you know?” She meets Kate’s eyes. “I told myself that when I had a home, I’d do the opposite. I’d get all the weird little things I saw, that I liked. And I’d buy them and fill a whole place with them.”
Something softens even more in Kate’s chest. It melts, warm and slow, through her body. She smiles softly, hands reaching for Lucy’s waist and curling in her shirt. “So you bought them now.”
“I have a home now,” Lucy says simply. “I didn’t before.”
Kate tugs Lucy forward a few inches until their hips press together. Her forehead drops to Lucy’s. “I love them. Well, except—“
“The clown and the bathroom sign,” Lucy finishes. Her lips twitch in a smile. “Noted.” She presses up on her toes, their lips brushing. “What about a different bathroom sign?”
“How about no bathroom sign?” Kate counters. She presses their lips together with more purpose. “And a no bobble head rule.”
Lucy laughs softly. “I’ll cancel my order, then. It’s a shame. You would have been a cute bobble head.” She unwinds from Kate’s grip, picks up an orange slice, and crosses the apartment, grinning.
“That’s not funny, Lucy.” Kate frowns when Lucy only smiles wider. “That was Jesse,” she accuses. “I knew it! Lucy, that was so creepy!”
Lucy laughs and pops an orange slice into her mouth. “I was going to fill the apartment with the team until you said something,” she admits. “But I guess they can go in Ernie’s lair.”
Kate rolls her eyes as Lucy disappears into the bedroom. She looks around the apartment—at the K&L by the coffee maker, the Cowboys tissue box, the half-filled “Aloha Hawai’i” mug, the coffee pod container, the collection of candles growing at the unused end of the counter. All little things Lucy picked up, picked out for them.
Trinkets, knickknacks, souvenirs, baubles—it would take Lucy more than four trips to move out now. And Kate agrees, it makes it look like a home in her with all these things, these novelties handpicked by the woman she loves.
Lucy hums from the bedroom and Kate smiles to herself before she catches sight of the clown figurine. Her smile twists into disgust and she picks it up, opening the trash can and dropping it in. Some of these things she can live without.
Lucy, not so much.
75 notes
·
View notes