#like he got really concerned when I said that I hadn’t felt like reading lately

[navybrat817]

Pencil You In

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didn’t help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didn’t automatically fill itself.

“Almost done,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.

It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.

Hopefully.

“You should take a break.”

You didn’t turn around immediately at the sound of Bucky’s gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didn’t return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.

And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadn’t you earned it? Didn’t you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?

But maybe you didn’t deserve it. What you did wasn’t as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he could’ve read your mind and known you thought that, it would’ve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasn’t enough.

Because you were always expected to do and be more.

“I will in a few minutes,” you said.

He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didn’t comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. “That was what you said a few minutes ago,” he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.

You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldn’t come and took a breath. “I really will this time,” you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

If you wouldn’t take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.

“Okay. I think that’s at a good stopping point,” you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you would’ve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didn’t remember scheduling anything else today. You didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for more. “What is this?” You mumbled before you opened it.

Reading the subject line, you did a double take.

CUDDLE WITH BUCKY

You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. “I don’t remember scheduling this meeting.”

“It’s a good thing I remembered, baby,” he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. “It’s a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.”

“How did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?” You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.

At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. “But it seemed to get your attention.”

Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “I wasn’t…” you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?

Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?

Bucky slid his hand to your chin so you’d look at him again. “Hey,” he whispered when your lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean anything by that and I’m not upset with you. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, you’ve been working your ass off even more than usual. I’m so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.”

Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. “But-”

“What is it you always tell me about work?”

“That it’ll be there tomorrow, but we may not be” you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldn’t let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. “I told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.”

He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. “And now I’m returning the favor,” he said against your skin. “So, come to bed. Lay with me. Just…”

“Be present,” you finished.

No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.

“Exactly,” he said, tugging you by the hand. “C’mon. We’re both late for our meeting.”

“Yes, Sir,” you teased, smiling when he groaned.

“This is a cuddle meeting, but it’ll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,” he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.

“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.

He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. “Sex after we cuddle,” he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then we can cuddle again.”

You leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Deal,” you agreed.

Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldn’t stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear your soft sobs, but he must’ve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to be held until then.

It was as if all the stress faded away.

“I really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.

“Because I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. Who wouldn’t want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?

“And I love you, too. So much,” he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didn’t say anything about it for your sake. “So let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that you’re more than enough.”

The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didn’t melt on the spot. “You already are,” you promised before his lips met yours.

And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.

I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[cozage]

Hi, can you write a scenario where Sanji founds his S/O (who is secretly an artist) staring the Aquarium's ceiling, and when he looks, he see that they painted a ocean landscape (like the All Blue) on it? I'm not good on explaining, but i think that would be a cute idea.

A/N: ALL THESE SANJI REQUESTS ARE MAKING ME FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM YOU GUYS NEED TO STOP!!! (jk you better not stop he deserves love)

Characters: gn reader x Sanji

Cw: none :)

Total word count: 1k

A Painted Dream

Sanji hadn’t seen you in a few hours, and he began to grow worried. Once he finished cooking for Luffy and Usopp, his mission would be to find you. 

The more he thought about it, the more concerned he became. You had been scarce most of the week, actually. He could really only remember seeing you for meals and for bedtime, which you came late to most nights. 

“Luffy.” He handed over a plate of sandwiches for the captain. “Have you seen Y/N recently?”

Luffy hummed, thinking about the question while he ate. “I saw them at breakfast this morning,” he said with a mouth full of food. 

“I saw them down in the workshop a few days ago,” Usopp offered. 

Of course these idiots wouldn’t be any help. He lit a cigarette and started cleaning up, trying to think about your conversations over the past few days. You almost always showed up to meals late, and you always looked a little disheveled when you arrived. Whenever he went to serve you snacks you weren’t there, and he always got distracted by another crew member before he had time to find you. He hadn’t noticed it at the moment, but now that he was reflecting on it, your behavior had been kind of secretive lately. 

He trusted you, of course, but he still felt uneasy. Moreso, he felt guilty that he hadn’t noticed it sooner and asked you about your day to know what you were doing in the first place. 

He wandered the ship, trying to find you. He asked all his crew mates, but the only helpful info he got was from Franky, who said you borrowed a small scaffold a few days ago and hadn’t returned it yet, and you borrowed a ladder this morning. 

There weren’t many places you could use a ladder inside the ship, so he checked the library first. He found Robin there, but not you. 

“Try the aquarium,” Robin offered, turning the page of the book she was reading. 

He wandered down to the aquarium and opened the door to find you standing before him. Your hair was pushed back in a bandana, and a variety of colored paint was smeared across your face and your arms. You were holding a palette in your hand and a paintbrush between your teeth while you stared upwards, focusing on something above you. 

His eyes trailed up to see what you were staring at, and he let out a small gasp of shock. Fish from the North Blue to his right, the South Blue to his Left, the East Blue on the far side, and the West Blue above him, all swimming towards the center of the room. There, they intermingled freely, swimming amongst sea kings and other monsters you all had seen on your travels. He could feel tears welling up and he furiously blinked to clear them. He didn’t want to cloud his vision of such perfect artistry. 

A sound at the door alerted you to a presence, and your eyes flicked over to see someone in the doorway. Tall, blonde, dressed to the nines. Sanji.

“No!” you cried, running over to him. “No! No! No!” 

You reach him and throw your hands over his eyes, which were glued to the ceiling. “You can’t see it yet! It’s not done!”

He stood in front of you, still as a statue. Your hands were still over his eyes, and you could feel wetness beneath your fingers.

“Sanji?”

You opened your hands slightly so you could see his face, but kept them cupped so he couldn’t see the ceiling. He had tears streaming down his face as he looked at you.

“You made that painting?”

You nod sheepishly. “I was hoping to finish it before you saw it, though.”

He looked at you, surprised. “It’s not done yet? It’s-”

“Just adding the finishing details now. Making it perfect.” 

“Can I sit here and watch you finish it?”

Your face made a pout. “You have to promise not to look until I say so.”

He laughed and took a seat in front of the fish tank. “I’ll keep my eyes on you.”

It was hard, but he did it. He desperately wanted to glance up at the painting, to be lost in the intricacies and name every fish he saw. But he waited until you gave him permission, and he kept his eyes on you the whole time. He watched as you squinted to see, huffed in frustration, and smiled in success. 

After an hour or two, you nodded in satisfaction, and you turned to him. “Okay, you can look now.”

He strode over to you and wrapped you in his arms, and then the two of you looked up at the All Blue you had created. 

“Just when I think you can’t surprise me, you go and do something like this.” He pulled his gaze away from the painting and smothered you with kisses, causing you to cry out in a fit of giggles. 

“You really like it?” you ask, peering up at him. 

“I love it. I love you.”

The two of you stood there, looking up at his dream until your necks were sore, and then you laid on the ground and kept looking up. You listened to him name each of the fish he saw, delightedly pointing them out like a child pointing out shapes of clouds on a sunny day, and thought about how you couldn’t wait for him to finally find the actual one. 

#one piece #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji x reader #sanji x you #cozage #✧˚sanji✧˚

[lala3244]

FRUSTATION

~ I needed some Simeon today, so I decided to write a little something. .~

—————————————————————————

after a bad day, you have a sleepover with the angel

—————————————————————————

I don’t think there is any warning?

To say you were frustrated was an understatement. You were beyond tired, barely sleeping, always overthinking before falling asleep and it would keep you awake every night and today was the last straw. You had failed a test you thought you had passed. Lord Diavolo had given you more tasks to do for the students council and the worst, Lucifer gave you an hour-long lecture for a thing you weren’t even implicated in. 

You had come home later than the others as you had to talk to Diavolo about the new tasks he put upon you. When you were in front of the door, you could hear shouts coming from the other side. You hoped you could sneak in without being seen as the only thing you wanted was to go under your duvet and never leave for the night but you couldn’t. You had promised Luke and Simeon a sleepover with them and you couldn’t go back on your promise. You took a breath in and opened the door. The brothers saw you enter and called you over. Well, your sneaking failed greatly at the first step. You released your breath and walked over to them, feeling antsy. As usual, they expected you to find the solution to their stupid problem but today you couldn’t take it. “Actually, I am late I don’t have time”. You left them, all of them speechless, and you went to your room to get your bag ready. While you were changing into more comfortable clothes, someone knocked on your door. You opened it and you saw Lucifer standing there. He looked you up and down, a concern frown on his face. “Simeon is there”. You nodded “Thank you”. You grabbed your bag which was next to the door and left your room. Lucifer decided to follow you and after a few steps, he stopped you. “Are you ok?” You nodded again. “Nothing that a good night sleep won’t take away.” You waved him goodbye and hugged the angel. 

Your evening with the angels went perfectly. You had almost forgotten about your day when you received a text from Diavolo. You sighed when you read his name. Simeon heard you and looked at you while you were reading the text. The future King of the Devildom was giving more assignments again. You started to feel overwhelmed and you couldn’t really understand why he gave you so much. You leaned your whole body against the chair you were sitting on and sighed. You rubbed your face in frustration with one hand while the other was still holding your D.D.D. You answered quickly and muted your phone. You didn’t want to be bothered by more assignments for the night. You were staring at your phone when you felt someone watching you. 

Simeon had stopped what he was doing and was watching you the whole time. You smiled sheepishly at him, embarrassed by your behaviour. “Sorry, Lord Diavolo has given me more work to do and I feel like it’s a lot especially today.” He nodded at your explanation and looked at Luke who had fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from the fun you all had that evening. He could sense your frustration and your helplessness. You suddenly got shy when you realised that he had sense it since you’ve arrived. He was glancing at you all evening and always making sure you were fine. You thought you had hidden your feelings pretty well but apparently Simeon saw right through you. He walked towards the little angel and picked him up. He turned around to face you. “I’ll come back”. You looked at him in confusion and nodded clueless. 

He was back after a few minutes. You had not moved. You just couldn’t. You felt the exhaustion hitting your whole body with such a force you couldn’t move even a finger. He stood in front of you as if debating what to do then he crouched down and put his hands on your knees. You could see he was worried about you. He squeezed your legs as if he had reached a decision and stood up. He still hadn’t said a word, neither did you but he broke the silence. “Come, let’s go!” You looked at him quizzically then he grabbed your shoulders with one arm and the other one sneaked under your knees and he lifted you up. He twirled you around and you giggled while wrapping your arms around his neck. He walked away from the room, while smiling at your sudden happiness, and grabbed your bag with the hand holding you by the shoulders. You were still giggling from the sudden gesture. He walked you to his bedroom. Usually, you would all sleep together in the same room but as Luke had fallen asleep early, you didn’t really think about where you were going to sleep then but the oldest angel had decided for you. And as if he could read your mind, he broke the silence “you’ll sleep with me tonight.” You just hummed in agreement, unsure of what to say. 

When you were finally in front of his door, he whispered “Can you open the door please? My hands are full.” You chuckled at the statement and did as you were told. He slowly let go of your legs and sat you down on his bed. He looked at you, a small smile on his face. He leaned down and put his hand on your cheek. “Let me take care of you.” You blushed at his words. He straightened up and grabbed your pyjamas from your bag. He put them next to you and started to lift your top. You looked at him, confused. He chuckled, “I can see you are exhausted, I just want to help you get changed and settle you into bed so you can relax”. You looked away and lifted your arms so he could slip your top off. He grabbed the top of your pyjamas and helped you get into it then he lifted your elbow so you could stand up. He took off your pants and again helped you get into the bottom of your pyjamas.

 If it were anyone else, you would have been embarrassed but with the angel it was really intimate. A way for him to show you how much he cared about you. Nothing implied, it was what it was. Him helping you. Your heart swelled as you thought of the being in front of you and his kindness. He surprised you again by picking you up. You gasped and wrapped your arms again around his neck. He gently laid you under the duvet. While you were settling into a more comfortable position, he changed into a more comfortable outfit and laid down next to you. You looked at him, waiting for something but you didn’t really know what. He turned to face you. “Is it okay for you to sleep in the same bed as me?” You frowned “Yes, of course”. He smiled, happy with your answer. He scooted closer, “Good, I am glad.” You smiled back. 

You were enjoying the closeness with the angel. He always had this vibe that gave you a sense of calmness that was only specify to him. You loved the brothers but their chaotic behaviours could feel too much sometimes and with Simeon, it was the other way. Every time you felt overwhelmed or stressed or frustrated, he would always find a way to help and even just his presence, sometimes, was enough. You were starting to feel sleepy but your mind was still thinking and he could see that you were overthinking. He grabbed you by the waist and hugged you tightly. “Tell me what’s in that pretty head of yours?” You laughed but shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him that it was him who was inside your head right now. “Come on, tell me what happened today? You looked exhausted”. 

So you decided to tell him all about your day, and how it was not about this day but an accumulation of small frustrations over the course of several weeks and today was the last straw. His grip was still tight around you but you didn’t feel suffocated, it actually helped put into perspective everything you had just said. Even though you had talked and he was holding you, you weren’t actually touching him so you decided to put, tentatively, a hand on his waist and when he didn’t react, you moved your hand so your arm wrapped his waist. 

He still hadn’t said anything since your venting. There actually wasn’t anything to say but you thought he had fallen asleep and he proved you wrong by kissing the top of your head. You melt at the gesture. “Thank you for listening, Simeon. I do feel better.” He squeezed you and kissed your forehead. “Of course, anytime you need”.  You couldn’t help but hugged him tighter which he responded in the same way. You finally took the next step. Intertwining your legs with his so you could get as close as possible to his body. You put the hand that was on his back under his shirt and, hesitantly, caressed his skin. It was soft as you had imagined. He hummed at the sensation and did the same for you, following the same pattern that you were making randomly until you got an idea. 

You started to write words and you wanted to see if he could understand what you were writing. You started with simple words, such as “hello”, “angel”… he chuckled when he got what you were doing and try to “read” your words. He told them out loud and you would either nod or shake your head to confirm if he was right  or not. After a dozen of minutes, with your brain half-asleep, you wrote a sentence without even realising. “I love you”. He got the “love” part wrong a couple of times and when he got it right you froze, startling you wide awake. You felt him put his cheek on the top of your head. “What is the last word?” You had stopped breathing at this point but you might as well finish it. So you traced the word “you” again on his back. He moved slightly away from you and cupped your face. He leaned in and kissed you softly on your lips. “I love you too.”

#obey me #obey me fandom #obey me fanfic #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #obey me boys #obey me comfort #obey me angst #simeon comfort #Obey me Simeon comfort

[becca-is-not-well]

Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley (platonic)

Summary: you had a rough go of as of late, so you go to your favorite husbands

Warnings: fluff, no use of (Y/N), gender neutral reader (they/them) R has hair but not specifically long or short or whatever

You had had the worst day ever.

Scratch that, you had had the worst week ever.

Between your anxiety and the workload, along with the person you hated most in the world seemingly being around every corner; your nerves were shot. There was only one thing that could make you feel better, but you always hated bothering Zira and Crowley with it.

"Angel, where has the little demon been all week?" Crowley asked his husband, finally realizing what had felt so off the past few days.

"I don't know, dear, they're probably just busy. And they're not a demon," Aziraphale walked into the room, setting the tea down on the coffee table.

"Eh, they're an honorary demon. And it's too bloody quiet without that menace around," the demon declared, sitting up from his previously reclined position on the sofa. Now that he'd finally realized what was wrong, an antsy feeling had settled in his gut.

"If it's really bothering you so much, why don't you go find them?" Zira said as he poured himself a cup of tea, trying to remain unbothered.

"Maybe I will-" Crowley was cut off suddenly by the bell on the shop door ringing.

Both sets of eyes snapped to look at the door, seeing the person in question standing there. You.

"Speak of the devil," Crowley exclaimed happily. The smile on his face quickly left as he took in the appearance of their young friend.

You were soaked, having apparently forgotten an umbrella on your walk over. The expression that graced your features was one of anger to the untrained eye; but the ineffable husband's knew you better than that. Really, the malice was just hiding the anxiety that lies beneath.

"Oh, darling," the angel got to his feet, immediately walking over to you. "What's happened?"

"It would be faster to tell you what didn't happen," you reply, shaking your hair to get any drops of rain out.

Crowley stopped right behind where Aziraphale was now fussing over you. The angel had taken your wet jacket and bag, having them up on the coat stand.

"You look like hell, kid, and I don't say that lightly," yellow eyes giving away the concern he truly felt.

"Gee, thanks buddy," you sassed; though it gave no real bite as you held back tears.

"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that," he bit back as he magically dried your clothes and hair.

"Be nice, Crowley, they've had a rough go of it lately," Zira scolded, gently leading you back to the sofa.

"I am being nice!" Crowley argued, following them to the sofa. The angel sent his husband a pointed look.

The couple was so busy arguing that they hadn’t heard your soft giggles until it turned into full out barking laughter. The way they acted like an old married couple despite only being married for about six months entertained you endlessly.

They both stopped in their tracks when they heard the laughter; joining you in the display a moment later.

“Oh, my dear, I’m sorry for our banter,” Aziraphale apologized.

“C’mon, angel, they live for our mindless little spats, don’t you, darling?” Crowley cut in, making you laugh again.

“Yeah, pretty much. You guys never had a honeymoon phase and if nothing else it makes me feel better,” you admitted. The two looked at you and each other with poorly hidden affection as they sat in a comfortable silence for a moment; the only sound being Zira serving tea for the three of them.

“Is there anything else we can do for you?” The blond asked, yet again stepping into the parental role he often took with you.

“Could we read together?” you suggested softly, sipping your tea.

“Ohoho, yes! Let’s read the one about us!” Crowley rubbed his hands together excitedly.

“You already know exactly what happens in that story, Crowley,” Zira reasoned, but there was no reasoning with his husband, really.

“He just likes that you being hopelessly in love with him for thousands of years is documented,” you quipped, laughing as both their faces went a bit red.

“No, I like hearing about how badass I am,” Crowley argued, trying to save face.

“Mhm,” you hummed, obviously not convinced.

“Okay, quiet you two,” Aziraphale interrupted the good natured argument. “I’m going to start reading.”

The angel opened the book Romeo and Juliet, knowing it's one of your favorites.

“‘Two houses, both alike in dignity’-”

“Oh a gloomy story for a gloomy day, really angel?” Crowley huffed.

“Yes, it’s one of their favorites. Now please; do listen. ‘In fair Verona, where we lay our scene…’”

Aziraphale continued to read the play in his soothing voice with Crowley interrupting with a snarky remark every so often. You smiled, the banter still entertaining you and making you feel safe. It was a cozy afternoon with your favorite found family, filled with laughter, tea, comfort, and shakespeare.

Just like that, all your troubles melted away as you sat between an angel and a demon who loved you just as much as you loved them.

#aziraphale #crowley #crowley x y/n #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x reader #Aziraphale x Crowley #platonic!reader #ineffable husbands #ineffable parents #found family

[lya-dustin]

The food of love

Aka the Oysters

Osferth x fem!reader

Cw:food poisoning and vomit

Gif by @myfandomprompts

My first Osferth one shot yay

You were going to hell for this.

But you have to do this or risk getting married off to some man old enough to be your grandfather.

Besides, Osferth was the king’s natural son and gentle and kind as one would expect of a godly man.

Osferth was handsome, and he was roughly your age and well-read and of good moral standing.

All the other young men you’d scared off this year paled in comparison to him.

And sure he was a monk, but some monks can marry and God did order Adam and Eve to be fruitful, so really this was just fulfilling God’s will.

Yes, God’s will. You were only doing God’s will.

This you tell yourself as you drink wine you pilfered from your father’s stores to wash down the oyster you ate.

Nasty things, they hadn’t been so bad when you had them when visiting the coast, but your maid said they stimulated carnal desire and would aid you in your mission.

The two of you had also overhead him commenting on it when having a very awkward feast with your family.

Why couldn’t it be something else, like pastries, or fruits or anything that wasn’t seafood?

Would he even come?

Did you get the right room?

You get your answer when you hear him talk to his fellow warrior and particular friend and joke that he had better accommodations for being a man of the cloth.

Remember your maid’s advice, show some skin, tease him, touch him casually and be willing to do any sinful thing he wants.

Holy men always have the filthiest minds, your maid had winked before sending you on your way.

If you do as I say you’ll be a married woman by morning.

Your stomach is in knots from the lethal combination of nerves, oysters and wine.

Oh God, the fucking oysters.

No matter, you could maybe get this done before it repeats itself.

“My lady, I, I seem to have been given the wrong room.” He apologized averted his gaze as he saw with your shift barely covering your upper thigh and spread like a whore on his bed.

“Oh you’re in the right room, Father Osferth.” You try to muster some degree of charm as you feel yourself sweat.

Oh, God.

“Just Osferth, Lady Y/N.” he said still avoiding you, turning around so all you see is his back.

Well, this had failed.

He’s such a paragon of virtue he won’t take advantage of a maiden. A maiden who up until now had wondered what did he hide underneath the dumpy robes.

He was tall, your maid said that was often a good thing in the bedroom. You tried to ask why, but you felt stupid in not knowing such things, so you pretended to know what she meant.

“Well, then I am just Y/N.” you say almost as awkwardly as he had said it.

Somehow this relaxed him enough to look quickly over his shoulder and look relieved you had lowered your shift to its natural length: just over your ankles.

“Are you well, Y/N?” the way he asks and spoke your name makes your stomach flutter, or was that the oysters?

No.

“Yes, I am quite well.” You say trying to flirt. “Well, not really, you see, Osferth, I have been plagued by these feelings ---”

Stick to the script your maid wrote, stick the script if you wish to marry a man you can respect and desire. If God’s merciful, a man you can love.

“Oh, erhm. Lady, I ---” his cheeks pink up, its so adorable, you find yourself thinking its just your stupid little infatuation with the warrior monk that’s got you in knots.

“Not a lady tonight, just Y/N.” your voice comes out breathy enough to pass off as seductive.

Good.

Maybe you can get out of here without letting him know you are deeply unwell physically.

Oh god, that was not nerves.

God, please do not let it come until I leave.

New plan, you get out of here before your late snack ends up on his floor, or worse, him.

“Oh, God, are you trying to seduce me, Y/N?” he asks looking at you with genuine concern.

You do not know what possessed you to nod, but you do and even worse, he comes to your side likely noticing how green you must look.

Oh no.

Here it comes.

To your credit you manage not to get anything on him or the furnishings.

You did not even see him pull out the bucket from under the bed serving as his chamber pot.

Osferth is seemingly unbothered by the sight or the smell as he holds your hair back as you empty the contents of your stomach.

You haven’t been this violently ill since you were a child, God, this is humiliating.

“I am very sorry, Osferth.” You apologize as you try to clean yourself up and avoid looking at him in your shame.

Those damn oysters.

You are never touching anything that comes from the sea ever again.

“It is not your fault, the wine may have been too strong for you.” He dismissed as he inspected the food for poison and discreetly looked at your midsection to see if you are secretly harboring a bastard in your belly.

“Not the wine, the damn oysters.” You shook your head and wondered if it were to forward of you to help yourself to the water in the pitcher left for his use.

“Ah, yes, I noticed they smelled off at supper, I did my best to warn my companions.” As if reading your mind he takes the clay cup and fills it for you.

He also takes out the bucket and lies for you when the Irishman, Finian, asks about the noise and the bucket.

“Why were you trying to seduce me?” he asks the question she had assumed had been to obvious too ask.

“I need a husband, one of my one choosing preferably.” You answer honestly and gratefully drink the cold water. Given how unsuccessful your maid’s scheme was, perhaps honesty might help you in this.

Besides how can you seduce or romance a man when you have just vomited in his room.

“I am honored you would think I would be worthy of you, Y/N.” he smiled sheepishly and your heart melts. “But I would have preferred you did not make yourself ill to get my attention.”

“It was my maid’s idea, she believed this was the only way.” You are quick to blame her for this, but you did share the blame as you were far too eager to say yes.

He chucked quietly, and you wonder if this was part of her plan.

Perhaps she knew you’d fail and he’d tale care of you because he was a good man.

You will ask her later, once you can manage leaving the room without being seen.

If you were caught, you would be seen as damaged goods and be tossed out into the woods.

Great.

“I do not have the means to have a wedding worthy of an ealdorman’s daughter let alone the means to have a family at the moment, I am afraid.”

Was he rejecting you?

This couldn’t get any worse.

All this and he says no because he does not have money?

God was punishing you and taking sick delight in doing so.

“But I may ask your father for a long betrothal and return with wealth to wed you.” He amended and you felt your heart soar. “If you still wish to have me.”

And your stomach churn again.

It is a miracle that you make it to your rooms uncaught and without retching.

“I told you, my sweetheart, I told you would return here betrothed to the monk.” Your maid said holding a cup of whatever will rid you of this malaise. “You are a very lucky woman, Y/N, I heard whores fight for a night in bed with him.”

Part ii

#osferth x fem!reader #osferth x you #osferth x reader #the last kingdom fanfic #ewan mitchell #baby monk

[maggiedanikka]

Superstar (Part 1)

Pairing: Rooster x f!reader, (blink and you'll miss it, unrequited) Hangman x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, good ending promise

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 19.7k (holy sh*t)

Summary:  “I’m no one special, just another wide eyed girl, who's desperately in love with you.”

OR 

Rooster is sure he's in love with this girl. Only problem is, he's never seen or face or know her name

No use of y/n

Based of off Superstar (Taylor's version) by Taylor Swift

Author's Note: It's me, Hi. This one shot is so freaking late y'all. In all honesty I started writing this August around the time I finished writing Naked, but life and school happened and now here we are. It felt amazing getting to stretch my writing skills again for anything other than research papers, and I'm on winter break so it seems as good a time as any. I'm not going to give anymore excuses, but I promise this is worth a read. This is the longest single piece of work I have ever written. It ended at 65 pages and almost 20k words in my drafts. Its so long that Tumblr won't let post the entire one shot in one post so im splitting it in two, but dw send part will be posted immediately after this is posted. I also didn't have anyone edit this, so I apologize for any grammatical errors (most likely tense consistency bcs i suck at those) I hope you all enjoy reading it as I did writing it and I hope it tide y'all over until I can write the next chapter of Let Me Go. Here is Superstar.

Bradley Bradshaw’s voice was an enigma to you. How could anyone's voice be so hoarse and yet so strong?

As an air traffic controller for the Navy, you’ve heard every type of voice imaginable. The gruff demanding ones from the Air Boss, the shrill screams of pilots having to eject due to a bird strike, the quiet dulcet tones of a shy WSO, and everything in between. 

The first time you heard his voice through the comms, you weren’t exactly starstruck per se, just a bit thrown off.

“This is Dagger 2, asking for clearance for take off.” 

It’s not like you didn’t know who the pilots flying this mission were. Everyone in the goddamn Navy knew who they were, they were the best of the best. 

You even saw their pictures. And thought some of them were cute (especially the one rocking the Miami Vice Stache). But hearing their voices was different from reading their files.

Though most of the details of the mission were classified, you had a basic idea and knew that there was a good chance that someone wasn’t coming home. 

“This is Dagger 2, asking for clearance for take off”

The voice repeated. You snapped out of your thoughts, the voice was smooth as honey and it had just a hint of fear but yet so heavily determined. Your heart really went out to the poor pilot. 

“Dagger 2, you’re clear for take off.” You said, trying to convey as much sympathy as you could in those words. 

The actual mission itself didn’t last longer than 3 minutes. Working for the navy, you should’ve been used to the high stakes situations that often go hand in hand with these kinds of assignments. But you couldn’t help but sit on the edge of your seat during the duration of the mission.

There were a few initial hiccups, you felt like you were watching a movie as you listened to the daggers communicate with one another. Their nervousness (and to be honest your own) upon seeing the SAMs and your both concern and irritation at Lieutenant Bradshaw’s cautiousness. 

Yes, his by the book and precise flying is part of the reason why he was considered one of the best, but if he didn’t throw that shit out of the window and speed up he will end up getting himself killed. And even though you didn’t necessarily know him, this possibility filled your body with so much dread.

You felt relieved (well only slightly, they hadn’t made it out of the woods just yet) when Rooster finally got out of his own head and sped up. The two miracles were successfully pulled off and the 4 jets had made it past Coffin Corner. Now it was a dogfight all the way home.

You commended just how level headed and pragmatic the pilots were as they evaded the SAMs and attacks that were thrusted upon them. You knew if you were in the same situation you would’ve panicked and blown up by now. Your admiration was interrupted by the mayday call of Captain Mitchell.

A heavy tension set in the control room, everyone was shocked at what just transpired. It was interrupted by the voices of the other daggers. Notably Lieutenant Bradshaw and Lieutenant Trace. 

Phoenix had announced that she and Lieutenant Floyd were heading back to home base, along with Payback and Fanboy. However, you were yet to hear confirmation from Rooster, with the last thing he said went along the lines of going after Maverick. 

You held your breath as you heard Admiral Simpson demanded his return. The control room was met with silence, and you knew exactly what he was going to do. 

It was less than 5 minutes when it was confirmed that Lieutenant Bradshaw’s plane had been shot down after attacking an enemy plane. His beacon went dark. 

Lieutenant Seresin requested clearance for take off but was rebuffed by the Air Boss. You had to take everything in you to not shed a tear.

A thick silence fell over the entire ship. The mission was technically a success but you wouldn’t be able to tell based on the solemn look on everyone’s faces. 

Even after the remaining daggers returned on the ship, no one wanted to leave the control room. The entire ship was at a standstill. 

That was until a beacon marked “Rooster” started beeping on the screen. 

No it couldn’t be.

“Sir, Rooster has gone supersonic.” You told Admiral Simpson with a gulp, trying to contain your hope. 

“An F-14 tomcat has been spotted sir.” Another ATC announced. 

“Maverick.” You heard someone say, not sure who but you did not care at that point. What’s important is that they were alive!

But it was not time to celebrate just yet. Two bogies were spotted alongside the F-14 Tomcat. And everyone knew this meant a dogfight was about to commence. 

The situation looked more and more grim. An ancient F-14 against Fifth Gens? It was unlikely for the two pilots to make it out unscathed yet alone alive.

But by some grace of God (or possibly Maverick’s unbeatable skill, probably both) they managed to take down two bogies. 

Rooster managed to turn on the plane’s radio to contact the ship. You felt relief which was instantly thwarted by the news that there was still one Fifth Gen, directly in front of the plane. 

You knew they needed help. You looked at Admiral Simpson desperately, hoping that he would allow the Reserve Dagger to go assist. But Cyclone seemed frozen and you knew you had to take matters into your own hands.

“Dagger Reserve, are you ready for liftoff?” You spoke into the mic, the other people in the control room looked at you in shock.

“Finally!” The elated voice of Hangman came through the comms.

Admiral Simpson shot you a hard glare, if only looks could kill, you’d probably be as screwed as Maverick and Rooster. But you knew you had to do something. 

“Yes this is Dagger Reserve asking clearance for takeoff.” 

“Dagger Reserve, you are clear for takeoff. Bring our boys home.” You said with a small smile, if you get fired and discharged, possibly thrown into the ocean it’ll be worth it knowing what you did to save the aviators.

Hangman shot down the Fifth Gen with ease, earning him his second confirmed air combat kill. You knew that the other pilots would never hear the end of it. But all you cared about is he saved HIM.

Rooster’s laugh and banter with Hangman might’ve been the most wonderful sound you’ve ever heard. 

Seeing him on the tarmac reunited with the rest of his team had to be one of the highlights of your career with the Navy, if this was the last moment you had in the branch then you were perfectly content. 

“What you did was reckless insubordination! If there was another fifth Gen out there, we would’ve lost 3 of our best pilots and 2 planes worth millions of dollars!” Admiral Simpson had chastised you. 

“I have half a mind to dishonorably discharge you!” You 're ready to accept your punishment with grace. You were however surprised at his next words 

“But your actions saved 2 of our men.” He added with a gulp.

“You are clear from punishment, but DO NOT make this a habit!”

“Yes sir.” You told him with a steady voice.

“Thank you sir.”

“You are dismissed, go join the rest of the fleet.” He told you.

You ran down to celebrate the returning pilots, but so was everyone else. You could only see a glimpse of Captain Mitchell and Lieutenant Bradshaw past the dozens of bodies approaching to greet them. 

But even from where you were standing you could see the beaming smile and bright eyes of the mustached pilot. And from that exact moment you knew you were a goner. 

———————————————————————-

Next time you heard his voice was a few weeks post mission. Apparently he accepted a post to teach at Top Gun. 

You were decently shocked to learn that the team assembled for the mission decided to stay in Miramar. Especially since they basically got their pick of post anywhere in the world. 

But you figured Lieutenant Bradshaw, or rather Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw (remembering his promotion), decided to stay because of his recent reconciliation with Captain Mitchell. 

“This is Rooster asking for clearance for takeoff.” He said through the comms.

“You’re still here?” Shit. You did not mean to say that out loud. 

You heard back a chuckle from the pilot.

“Yes, I decided to stick around Fightertown for a little while.”

“Sorry sir.” You replied grateful that he couldn’t see the blush that was forming on your cheeks. 

“You are clear for takeoff.”

“Thanks sweetheart. Roger that.” You felt your cheeks grow hotter as he took off into the air. 

“ATC you still there?” He asked you once he was at cruising altitude. 

“Yes Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, I am still here.” Hoping that he forgot your earlier words and needed something official. 

“Any reason why you were shocked at my staying?” He asked you.

You gulped at his question. Was this allowed? You’ve never had a pilot ask you a question before that didn’t pertain to instructions, both on the ground and in the air. 

After a breath you answered his question.

“I heard about your promotion, and the offer to be posted anywhere in the world. Just surprised you chose to stay here.”

“Sometimes a family is worth more than any accolade or prestigious post.” He told you. You could tell he really cared about Maverick, but was not sure about the history of that. 

Would asking him be crossing a line?

“Why do you stay in fightertown?” He asks you.

“Not for anything as noble as your reason Lieutenant Commander, just an assigned post.” 

“Well I hope you’re liking Miramar. Actually grew up here.” You were surprised that he was still speaking to you, considering he was in the sky for a reason, and normally pilots didn’t maintain this much conversation with Air Traffic Control.

“I really like it so far, having some trouble with making friends though.” You don’t know why you admitted this to him, especially through comms that other people are definitely listening in to. And especially to a Naval hero who definitely would have no interest in the life of a lowly ATC. 

“Well, consider me your first friend sweetheart.” He responded and he actually sounded genuine. You couldn’t help but smile at the aviator's words.

You were about to respond when you were interrupted by Hangman through the comms. 

“Usually I would encourage this, but you can flirt later, Rooster, we gotta shoot down Mav.”

Your little bubble had been burst as you remembered why you had to clear him for takeoff earlier.

“That’s my cue, talk to you later, friend.”

“Have a good exercise Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw.” You respond with a smile you know he’d never see. 

Your shift ended before they finished their exercise, so you didn’t get to give Rooster clearance to land (or maybe you just hoped to speak to him again). But from what you heard, it was the closest the team got to finally shooting down the infamous Captain. 

You knew that one day they could surpass the pilot, but you were glad that they were able to learn and grow (and stay) a little longer at Top Gun.

In an effort to make more friends you agreed to go out with some of your fellow ATCs that night. Which is how you ended up in a bar on the beach called ‘the Hard Deck’.

Your co-workers were nice enough, and you were honestly glad that you weren’t spending another night with a plate of pad Thai watching yet another crappy Netflix rom-com. 

Imagine your surprise when Rooster and his crew of pilots walked into the very same bar. They went straight to the pool tables and were currently arguing over who got to play first. 

“God definitely has favorites, because they are so fine.” Your co-worker Laura sighs. 

“I wanna climb Seresin like a tree.” She adds.

“I’m more of a Coyote and Payback kind of gal.” Your other co-worker Sara remarked. 

“But I wouldn’t kick Fanboy or Bob out of bed, they look like they know some tricks.” 

She said as she took another drink of her martini. You agreed with their judgements but couldn’t help but only have eyes for one of the pilots.

“Good choice.” Your other co-worker Lia tells you after following your gaze. 

“Bradshaw definitely takes the cake.” 

You blush upon being caught staring at Rooster. 

All your co-workers nodded in agreement with Lia. 

“He’s not as pretty as Hangman but he’s somehow more fuckable.” Laura comments. 

You couldn’t help but feel possessive as the other women also stared at Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw with hungry eyes. 

But it’s not like you had any right to that feeling, he wasn’t yours, he didn’t even know who you were. 

The conversation moved on to other topics, it could’ve been anything from the weather or the latest Naval gossip but you were only half paying attention. You were honestly just glad that they were done ogling a certain pilot. 

You really liked the Hard Deck. It was now clear that it was a Navy spot and it was really cool to see the usually serious people from work loosened up in civilian clothes. 

The night was bustling and while you were glad for some company, you couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. All these women knew each other and had all these little jokes with one another, and you were an outsider that had a bit of a neurotic streak.

You were wondering if this was a pity invite, and you were slowly leaning to a yes but you were already here, might as well make the best of it.

You prepared yourself to jump back into the conversation, when the music from the jukebox had abruptly stopped. And while the men booed, you saw that the women all stopped and stared at the piano. Or rather the person at the piano. 

Lo and behold, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was seated at the decades old instrument, his fingers expertly playing an old Elton John hit. Of course he would have an affinity for the 80s, as shown by his mustache.

If you thought his speaking voice was beautiful, his singing voice was downright heavenly. He had this low tenor that was so strong and made “I’m still standing” sound sensual. How is that even possible?

Obviously you weren’t the only person that thought so, you saw women dancing in front of him, singing along and obviously trying to get his attention. 

For the other women (and some men) that weren’t, were singing along and staring, were all bewitched at the pilot’s skill. And really, who could blame them?

He had this air of confidence that even the cockiest of pilots could never compete with, he was a superstar. In the air and the ground. 

When he (sadly) finished his song, the entire bar cheered and chanted his name. He did a silly dance and seemed to have no care in the world.

You couldn’t help but fall for him a little more. 

——-——————————————————————

“This is Rooster, in the air calling for Air Traffic Control.”

You just started your shift less than 2 minutes ago and did not know that Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was already in the air.

“This is Air Traffic Control, what do you need, Lieutenant Commander?” You ansered, trying to keep your voice calm, hoping your little crush on the aviator wouldn’t show in your voice. 

“It’s you!” Rooster exclaimed.

“I’m not sure what you mean sir?”

“You’re the ATC from the other day? The one that agreed to be my friend.”

A blush crept onto your face, you were surprised he remembered your interaction. 

“Um yes sir.” 

“You got off the comm lines so quickly the other day. I didn’t get to invite you to hang out with me and meet some other new friends at the Hard Deck.” 

Your heart grew warm. He was serious? He wasn’t just trying to be polite?

“I was at the Hard Deck sir. Saw you there with your squadron.”

“Oh shit, really? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Seemed rude to just insert myself, sir.”

“Plus you seemed preoccupied with your adoring fans.” You said with a giggle. 

“It was an amazing performance.”

“Oh yeah? Are you a fan?” You heard him ask, already seeing his smirk in your mind. 

“Oh yeah definitely! Consider me the president of the fan club sir.” You quipped. 

“So what does the role of “president” entail?” 

“You know, make t-shirts, teach the Rooster 101 class, and of course host the weekly meeting where we talk about how hot and talented Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw is.”

“So you think I’m hot?”

Your face grew warm in response, and cursed yourself for accidentally flirting nonsensically. And prayed to whatever higher power that no one was currently listening to the comm line. 

“Oh um-.” You began to respond.

“No! Sir-…um I just…”

“You know it’s frowned upon to lie to your superiors.” He said in a serious tone.

“Oh no I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to-“

“ATC….”He interrupts, with an inflection at the end of the last letter 

“Yes I think you’re hot Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw” You confessed with a gulp.

He let out a hearty chuckle.

You were completely mortified and you don’t think your face has ever been this hot before. If you thought you didn’t have a chance before, more so now. You were debating whether you should disconnect now and go back to your job (I mean this is technically your job, but not the flirting part). 

You were broken out of your inner debate by Rooster

“Thanks sweetheart.”

“You know you don’t have to keep calling me Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw right?”

“You can call me Rooster.”

You were thankful for the subject change. 

“Okay Lieutenant Comma-“

“Sorry, okay….Rooster.”

“Now that’s better.” He said with a slight laugh, you could already see his dazzling smile now.

“How about you ATC? What should I call you?”

“Oh you can call me-“ you began to say.

“This is Lieutenant Finch asking for clearance for takeoff.” You were cut off by the comm.

You sighed, back to real life. 

“I’m sorry Rooster, I got to go back to duty.”

You cut off the comm lines before he could respond.

————————————————————————

Next time you saw him, he was walking down a hallway with Lieutenant Commander Trace by his side. He was talking so animatedly, his hands waving around as he delivered his point.

It sounded like he was gushing about a tail spin maneuver that Maverick pulled off, and god he’s so beautiful. When he speaks it’s like you couldn’t help but listen. Hell! you bet a reading of the F-18 NATOPS would sound like absolute sin coming from his mouth. 

You were so caught up in his voice that you didn’t notice how close you were to passing him.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat as your shoulders brushed against his as you walked in the opposite direction. Even through your thick khakis, you can feel how muscular his shoulders were. Damn this man works out.

“Oops sorry ma’am” he stopped and turned to you. His eyes were concerned that he hurt you from a measly bump. This man could not be real.

“I didn't mean to bump you. And as put together as I seem to be, I am actually a huge klutz and a hazard to pretty girls.” He said with a chuckle and a wink.

You tried to respond to him, but only a squeak managed to leave your mouth. Starstruck that he’s speaking to you for the first time, not through a comm line. 

Wait and he called you pretty! You were now fighting a blush creeping on your cheeks. But to the two aviators it looked like you were not amused 

“Stop bothering her Rooster, she obviously has places to be.” Phoenix chastises him.

“I apologize for my bothersome friend.” She turned to say to you. And all your pathetic shy ass can do is nod.

“See you around! And sorry again!” Rooster says once more as Lieutenant Trace pulls him away and down the hallway. 

———————————-—————————————

Okay, you were not doing this on purpose, well sorta. Sometimes in the midst of your constant daydreaming, your subconscious kinda just takes the reins and dictates your actions. 

Which is how you found yourself coincidentally choosing a work schedule that lined up the most perfectly with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw’s flying times.

You hoped for another conversation with Rooster, hoping to redeem yourself from your words (or rather lack thereof) during the hallway debacle.

 But the Lieutenant Commander seemed very focused on the exercise that they’ve been working on for the past week and has not been speaking to you as much as of late.

You were of course sad, and you felt a pit in your stomach grow larger and larger each passing day that your conversations started and ended with “you’re cleared for takeoff”.

You almost wish that your stupid infatuation would go away so that you didn’t feel yourself crushed at the end of every single work day. 

But you would catch a glimpse of his smile on the tarmac and your heart would fill with so much longing once again. 

It had been almost a week since your last true interaction with the aviator, you were beyond pathetic at this point. 

At last, he finally called in after he was in the sky. 

“Is the president of my fan club there?” He called into the comms. 

Was he talking about you? I mean who else would he be talking about considering the topic of your conversation last time. 

Unless he talks to all the ATCs like this, flirting with them until they become flustered and red as a tomato. He’s probably done this with Sara, or Laura or even both! The thought filled your stomach with dread. Should you stay silent and pretend you didn’t hear him? Or maybe he actually needs something, it would be unprofessional of you to not help your superior or maybe-

“I know you’re there, I can hear you thinking”  

Rooster has a habit of breaking you out of your anxiety induced thoughts.

“Are you calling for me Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?”

You heard him clear his throat, expectant.

“Oh I’m sorry, Rooster.” You corrected yourself.

“That’s better” He said with a chuckle. 

“Sorry I’ve been radio silent the past week sweetheart, have had a lot on my mind.” 

“You don’t have to apologize to me! You’re one of the greatest pilots in the world, no need to worry about me.” You assured him, and maybe you were a bit self-deprecating but it was true. 

“No need for all of that ATC, I’m just a guy in a plane. And were friends, remember?  It’s not fair of me to leave you in the dark.” 

Damn. AND he's humble? How can this man be anymore perfect?

“ Thank you Rooster.” You replied with a small smile.

“Sorry again for going ghost, this is a bit of a hard week for me” He continued.

In any normal circumstance, asking for elaboration would seem like prying, but your conversations with the Lieutenant commander have been less than normal as of late. You still had no clue where you got the courage to ask.

“Oh, why is that?”

“Wanna know all my secrets already sweetheart?” 

He somehow managed to avoid the question AND make you flustered. He’s good.

“How about I let you know my stories over dinner?”

You just felt your heart jump out of your chest and into another dimension. There’s no way THE Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was asking you out. 

This had to be some kind of game, one that he’s no doubt played a million times before. Rooster had no shortage of women who wanted him and the fact that he’s asking you out of all people was unbelievable. There was no way. 

“Um like a date?” You ask him nervously.

He chuckles at your response, amused at your edginess. But to you it sounded like the thunderclap before the lightning strike of rejection. 

You just wished he’d get on with it. Hoping he lets you down easy so you can move on from this crush and actually do your job.

“What else would I mean?” He finally responded.

Your entire body felt like a cracked glow stick. You felt bright and overheated, but also cold as ice as you’ve somehow lost feeling in your extremities.

So he was asking you out! You were determined to apologize for every time you’ve said God’s name in vain because if Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was asking you on a date, then there is no doubt that the higher power was real. 

But the reality of the situation had set in. If he was this quick to ask you out despite not knowing your name, or what you look like. What’s stopping him from changing his mind and moving on to the next ATC or bartender or crossing guard who gave him admiring attention just as quickly?

You came to a swift realization.

It was against your nature and your better judgment, as your heart was beating out the seams to say yes to Rooster’s invitation. But you had to be smart about this.

You had to play the game.

“I’m gonna have to say no sir.”  

You can feel the regret setting in already.

“Wow, I think that’s the first no I’ve gotten in…. That might be the first no I’ve ever gotten.”

Great, now you’ve bruised his ego, you had no idea if this tactic was working for or against you.

“Well, I think dinner might be a little further down the line, that’s if you think you can handle it?” You somehow gathered enough courage to (fake) confidently challenge Rooster.

“Oh is that so?” You can hear the intrigue in his voice through the line. 

“How about a phone number?” He offers amused

“Hmm… maybe THAT  I can agree with.” You responded matching his playful tone.

“In one condition.” 

“Oh yeah? And what is that sweetheart?” 

“Shoot down Maverick in the drill today.”

“Is that it? I can do that, easy.” There was the cockiness the top gun pilots were famous for.

“That’s funny, considering you haven’t been able to do it in the past 3 weeks.” You jested.

“Ouch, first you reject my invitation, and now you insult my skill? Way to kick a man while he’s already down sweetheart.” He grimaced playfully.

“Gotta give you some kind of challenge sir.” You couldn't hold back the giggle forming in your throat. 

“Okay deal, anything to hear that laugh again, outside of these comm lines.” He chuckled.

Oh shit. You completely forgot that you are flirting with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw though a military operated and very public comm line.

“I was wondering when the two of were going to remember the rest of us can hear EVERYTHING.” You heard the voice of Lieutenant Commander Seresin chortle.

You felt your ears burn red in embarrassment. 

“Getting rejected over comms Bradley? And here I thought you had game.” Captain Mitchell added. Both of them were laughing at their fellow aviator. 

“See what I mean sweetheart? I promise I’m a much better conversationalist when these assholes aren’t around.” Bradley insulted the other two pilots. 

“Don’t listen to him ATC, I’ve known him since he was still in diapers , and I promise you, this is as good as he’s gonna get.” Captain Mitchell remarked to you. 

“Don’t think I’m gonna go easy on him for you either.” He added jokingly. 

“Trust me Captain Mitchell, I’m counting on it.” You replied with equal fervor. Maverick responded with a playful tone.

“Sounds good ma’am, hope I don’t disappoint .”

“I’m going to get into position, You two can join me once Bradley is done with his disastrous flirting.” He added before going radio silent, lifting his jet to prepare for the dogfight. 

“Hypothetically, if I shoot down Mav, do I get your number?” Hangman teased. 

“Walk the walk first, and maybe I’ll consider it.” You quipped, but you knew that the only aviator you’d want to give your number to was Rooster. 

“Good enough for me.” Hangman replied. 

“Watch me beat you Rooster, in the drill and with the girl.” Hangman chuckled playfully before going radio silent, presumably getting into position.

“Double timing me with Hangman sweetheart? Now thats a killing blow.” Rooster smiled, slightly annoyed at your flirtatious exchange with Seresin but happy that it was just the two of you once again. 

“You know how bumptious Lieutenant Commander Seresin can be. I just said it to get rid of him.” You explained. 

“Now for you, I am completely serious. Shoot down Mav and you got yourself a phone number.”

“Yours right?” He asked.

You let out a hearty laugh, one that had caused the other ATC’s currently in the control tower to look at you with concerned expressions. 

“Yes. Mine.”

“You never know, you could very well give me Admiral Bates’ number. I just wanted to make sure.” He replied.

“Plus its always a bonus to hear you laugh.”

This man never seemed to run out of lines. You had to hold yourself back from melting into a puddle in your seat.

“Well lets see what you got then Lieutenant Commander.” Was the last thing you said as he finally went back up to position. 

As much as you wanted to stay tuned into the dogfight like you were a suburban dad cheering on their favorite football team, you did actually have a job to do. 

You were in the middle of analyzing flight patterns and putting together a presentation for your co-workers when you heard the sudden call on your headset.

“Hello, this is air traffic control.”

You were greeted with a loud thunderous cheer. 

“I did it ATC! I shot down Mav.” Rooster howled.

“Is this true Lieutenant Commander Seresin?” You asked Hangman.

“As much as I tried to sabotage him, yes Rooster did somehow managed to shoot down the old-timer.” Hangman confirmed with a groan.

Shit. Now you have to actually give your number to Rooster.

“Soooo ATC, I’m waiting for the magic numbers.” You could already see the victory smirk on his face. 

“Ughhh fine a deal is a deal. But I am not going to give out my private phone number on a monitored line. I’m just gonna have to get it to you another way.”

“Okay fair enough. How are you gonna do that?” Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw queried. 

“Don’t worry about it, just know you’ll get it.”

“Or you know you can just give it to me face to fa-.”

“Goodbye Rooster.” You interrupted and dropped the line before he could continue. 

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

You honestly did not know how you were going to get your number to Rooster. You wouldn’t dare to see him face to face. He’ll take one look at you and know that you were nothing special and he’d lose interest. The only reason he was this enthralled was because you were a mystery to him. 

You could always go back on your deal and tell him you were kidding about the number, but you knew that was an asshole move and you were not the type to break agreements. You had to figure out how to get that number to him without him seeing you. 

At least then you can speak to him and possibly flirt with him for a little longer before he inevitably loses interest..

You were sat in the comm tower, your head resting on the back of your hand, watching Rooster joke around with Mav and Hangman down in the tarmac beside their F-18s. Even from all the way up here you can see how bright his smile was. He was so beautiful. 

You were snapped out of your admiration by the three aviators walking off the tarmac, probably to rest and sit with the other pilots in the hangar. You saw your window of opportunity, in the form of (no pun intended) Rooster’s open canopy on his jet. 

If you could sneak down there and place a piece of paper with your number on his dash then you would have fulfilled your side of the deal. 

If anyone were to ask, you were not a stalker, you were just very observant, especially if you’ve been watching these pilots for the better part of the last few weeks and knew that they were going to spend at least the next 15 minutes in the hangar until they returned to the tarmac. You had to make your move NOW.

You scribbled your number onto a piece of discarded paper.

“I’m taking a 10!” You announced to the control room before running out clutching the note to your chest. 

You quickly ran down from the tower and quickly onto the tarmac, making sure to duck and turn your head away as you passed the hangar (just in case). 

You couldn’t remember the last time you ran this fast, probably not since basic training. You quickly manuevered around all the F-18s until you reached the one marked with the label LCDR Bradley Bradshaw “Rooster”. You’ve never seen his jet this up close, you wanted desperately to run your hand through the marking of his name, to touch something that he has. 

No. You have to remember you’re here on a time-constrained mission, and you had to get out of here not only  before the pilots come out, but also before anyone in the comm tower can spot you down here. 

You quickly flung yourself up the ladder up to cockpit of the jet and trying to place the piece of paper as rapidly and as gently as you could on the dash. When you finally let go of the paper and saw that it was securely in place, you hopped off the tiny ass ladder and started to speed walk back to the direction of the comm tower. 

Your heart was beating a million times per minute and you did it without anyone seeing you. You could see the door to the tower in the distance, and were beelining towards it. That’s until you heard a clear 

“HEY!” Coming from behind you. 

You turned around and were greeted by the suspect face of Lieutenant Commander Seresin. He was standing probably a good 25 feet away and slowly walking towards you.

“Who are you? What are doing down here?” 

You had to think of an excuse fast, with as little words spoken as possible. You couldn’t risk him recognizing your voice and telling Rooster. Then all of this would be over too soon. 

“Just routine inspection!” You tell him, making your voice higher and hopefully indiscernible from your normal speaking voice. 

“Goodbye!” You waved at him before sprinting away and around the tower so he couldn’t see that you were going into the comm room. 

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

As much as you'd like to think that you successfully made it down and back from the tarmac completely undetected, you knew that running into Hangman could’ve ended disastrously. You needed to learn to be more careful especially now that your number could possibly already be in Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw’s possession. Which means you have to commit to this game. 

You put your number in his plane almost 11 hours ago and even though the work day has long ended, and you knew that the pilots leave together at around 5pm and would inevitably end up at the Hard Deck for a few hours. 

However it is now nearing 11pm and you still had no notification from anyone other than your mom. No texts, no calls, just email alerts and a few instagram DMs from some old high school friends. 

You sighed as you stared at the clock. Maybe he didn’t see the paper? Or he’s still at the Hard Deck?

You knew neither was unlikely because the dagger squad flew out and ran a few more drills later in the day so was in his jet and all the Navy men (or rather the disciplined ones) promptly left the bar at 10pm to prepare for their early work days. 

He could’ve and should’ve contacted you by now.

But what did you really expect? That he was going to drop everything and call a random ATC that he had a few indecorous conversations with. 

You definitely let this fake confidence build up too much in your head. You had to remember your place. Because who are you other than just a girl, when he was one of the superstar’s of the Navy? The frontliner and the apple of all the admirals’ eyes. 

You see the clock flashing 11:15pm and you had a shift early in the morning. There was no use continuing to feel sorry for yourself. Some sleep would do you some good, and hopefully avoid the waterworks that would inevitably come.

You were well on your way to slipping into a deep slumber when you heard the loud text tone originating from your phone. 

Unknown Number: Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you today sweetheart. I hope I get the chance soon. Sweet dreams :) 

——————-————————————————————————

There must have been some sickness barreling through the base because the normally filled comm room was empty except for you manning the main desk. 

Being solo wasn’t too bad, as there weren’t too many pilots scheduled to fly today.

Of course one of them being Rooster. 

“Miramar Tower, F/A-18E Super Hornet , 10 southwest at 2,500, inbound for landing “ 

Speak of the devil, and he shall come

“F/A-18E Super Hornet , Miramar Tower, report entering left downwind Runway 24R.” You responded, keeping yourself professional despite feeling the butterflies in your stomach beating your ass upon hearing his voice.

“Report entering left downwind, F/A-18E Super Hornet . . . . “ He responded before adding

“F/A-18E Super Hornet entering left downwind Runway 24R.”

He was all business today, with absolutely no hint of the usual playfulness in his voice. 

“Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, you are cleared to land Runway 24R.”

He let out a slight growl, one you would miss if you weren’t listening so intently.

He hesitated for a moment before finally responding. 

“Cleared to land Runway 24R, F/A-18E Super Hornet “ 

You saw his jet successfully land and reached for the button to disconnect when you heard Rooster’s voice flood your headphones once again.

“Do you remember what I said about calling me ‘Lieutenant Commander’ sweetheart?” He asks steely.

Fuck, he sounds so sexy when he’s stern. No man’s voice has ever had this effect on you. 

“Yes sir, Rooster.” You said with a longing breath.

You curse yourself for being incapable of being subtle.

“Normally I would say no ‘sir’ just ‘Rooster’, but I’ll allow it. Only because it sounds so good coming from your mouth.”

Holy shit. And you thought you weren’t subtle, you were usually clueless when it came to men flirting but even you could read that loud and clear. 

“You sure you want to be hitting on me over comms SIR?” you said purring 

“Would you rather me come up there sweetheart? So I can do it face-to-face” He said with the same gruffness. You can see him glancing up to the tower as he lifted his canopy and exited his plane.

“I dare you Lieutenant Commander.” You replied matching his salacious tone. 

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson don’t I?.” The connection cuts off as he removes his helmet and rushes up to the tower. 

You couldn’t hear anything over the sound of your pounding heartbeat, there is no way you just invited Rooster up to the comm room. 

It couldn’t have been more than 2 minutes when you heard the door burst open and saw Rooster enter, his skin still glistening from sweating under the California sun. 

He looked like a Greek god, and you had to stop your jaw from physically dropping at the sight of him. 

“Finally done hiding from me sweetheart?” He greeted you teasingly. 

You slowly approached one another. You opened your mouth to respond with a flirty response but the words seemed to be stuck in your throat. 

You didn’t even notice how close you were to him. You could feel the heat radiating off his body. You were staring straight ahead and avoiding his gaze. Choosing to maintain eye contact with the lowered zipper of his flight suit. Giving you a glimpse of the hard planes of his chest underneath. 

Your breath hitched as you felt him grab you by the waist and pull you bodies together. His hands felt so hot on your body and you still couldn’t bring yourself to look up into his gaze.

That is until he placed a hand on your chin and gently pulled it up to look into your eyes. 

“Don’t tell me you’re all shy now sweetheart?” He said with a smirk and he tugged your bodies closer. 

“Where’s all that talk from earlier?” He whispered as he kissed the skin beneath your ear, before moving his lips to your jaw and leaving soft caressing kisses trailing down your jaw, down to where your neck meets your collarbone

Okay, you have definitely lost the ability to breathe, let alone to speak several moments ago. If he wasn’t currently holding you so tightly your legs would’ve given out from under you.

All you could feel was him and all your mind can think of is Rooster. Rooster. Rooster. 

He finally brought his head back up and stared at your lips. He licked his before he finally closed the distance between you and-

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

You woke up in your bed in a cold sweat. 

Holy shit, it was just a dream. It felt so real. 

You could’ve sworn you could still feel his hand gripping on your waist and his hot breath on your ear. 

You glanced at your alarm clock to see that you overslept by 30 minutes! 

You quickly got up and got ready, you swear to God you had never gotten ready faster in your life. But you still managed to be 15 minutes late. 

Your supervisor was not happy. But you were normally punctual so they allowed you this one oversight. As long as you swore to never repeat it again. 

You finally caught your breath and settled in your station. You were relieved that you didn’t miss too much. 

But since you were late Rooster was assigned to a different ATC on his flight plan for the day. 

This did make you sad but in a way maybe it was necessary for today. 

First because you could not possibly hold a conversation with him after the erotic dream that you still hadn't physically recovered from, and second because you were actually becoming pathetic.

You had set 4 simple rules for yourself when you joined the Navy

Stay Focused

Always be punctual

Sleep early to be well rested, and most importantly

Do not get involved with Navy men. 

You somehow managed to break all rules in the last few weeks. 

You had a wet dream that caused you to break your perfect punctuality streak. A dream that was about a certain pilot that caused you to stay up late and has spent the better part of a month distracting you.

For the lack of better phrasing, you really needed to get your shit together.

But when you stepped into the mess hall after a fairly productive half of a day, and saw his face, you remembered just why you were so enamored. 

A smile from him was worth breaking the rules you set for yourself. 

——————————————————————————————-

You were probably home for less than 10 minutes when you heard the text notification coming from the living room.

You wiped your hands on a dish rag and walked out of the kitchen to grab your phone, which you almost dropped upon seeing who the text came from. 

The text last night was completely unexpected and was definitely part of the reason why Rooster somehow made it into your dream. And even though you were half asleep at the time, you managed to save his number under “Rooster ✈️🐔”. 

Which is how you knew you were staring at a text from said aviator. 

Rooster ✈️🐔: Missed you today :(

You have been carefully analyzing the text for the last 30 seconds you laid eyes on it. He missed you??? What does that mean? He had your number for the better part of two days and he only managed to contact you when you were almost asleep, and after a day of ignoring him. 

Asking him what he meant would be too obvious and would make you come out as naïve. So you did what any rational woman with a crush would do. Deflect.

You: Do you have a problem with emojis or something?

Rooster ✈️🐔: Huh? What do you mean? 

You: I can’t remember the last time I saw someone use emoticons unironically. 

Rooster ✈️🐔: Are you making fun of me? I personally think emoticons are neat

Rooster ✈️🐔: And I don’t know how to download emojis :/

You felt like a schoolgirl as you felt your face break into a grin at his antics. 

You were formulating a reply when you were interrupted by the screen indicating an incoming call from Rooster ✈️🐔.

You stared at your phone in panic and let it continue to ring. Holy shit he was calling you. At least in text you can formulate a plan and have a carefully crafted response. You did not have that luxury with a voice call. 

But what are you going to do? Ignore it? 

You had to make a decision fast. Okay yes, it will be a little more nerve wracking to speak on a voice call but that's better than nothing right? And you spoke to him all the time over comms, even though technically it is different because those conversations can be hidden under the guise of carrying out your job and you did not have that safety net in this situation.

After a few seconds you thought “Fuck it” and pressed the green button. 

“Hi” You answered with a breath. 

“Oh thank god, you actually answered” He responded, teasing relief in his voice.

“What? You thought I wouldn’t?” You asked him as if it was the most outlandish thing in the world (even you were seriously debating it less than a minute ago). 

“Well lets look at the track record, you rejected my dinner invite, doubted my skill as a world class pilot, left me on read last night, and just made fun of my emoticons.”

“The signs were all pointing there.” 

You bursted out in laughter at his rantings.

“Wow! And now you’re laughing at my misery, a man just can’t win with you can they sweetheart?” He feigned hurt. 

“I’m sorry Lieutenant Commander, I didn’t realize it was so easy to hurt your feelings.” You teased him. 

“AND were back to Lieutenant Commander? You do not pull your punches, do you?”

“I’d like to think we’re past all those formalities, outside of work please call me Rooster, or rather yet, call me Bradley.” He asserted. 

“Sometimes I forget your full god given name is Bradley Bradshaw. Brad Brad. I’m making that your name on my phone” You continued to tease with a giggle.

“Did your parents know what they were subjecting you to?” 

“Ha Ha very funny, unfortunately they were the main ones who made the Brad Brad joke.” He admitted dejected. 

This caused you to laugh again.

“Hey this is not fair! I don’t even know your name to make fun of.” You could practically hear the pout in his voice.

“You know I’m gonna find out your name eventually sweetheart, so why don’t you just give it up now?”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You wanted to finally tell him your name, you did. But that just opens a can of worms that would lead to reality, which you were not yet ready to face.

“I can’t call you ATC forever sweetheart..”

“Well.. what do you want to call me?” 

“Preferably your name?” He suggested.

“You only get one chance to choose so try again.” You warned. 

“And make it good”

“Okay fine I’ll bite.” He finally gave in.

“Lets see, what to call you….”

“Well you laugh a lot, and most of the time at me, so I think I want to use something related to that.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so easy to make fun of.” You quipped.

“Fair enough. Just know I only let you because I actually like the sound of your laugh.”

You felt the blush creep onto your cheeks again.

“Clock is ticking, and you’re wasting your time flirting. What is it gonna be?” You goaded him.

“Okay Okay, but don’t think I won’t continue later.”

“I have no doubt about it” 

“So something pertaining laughing…hmmm. Giggles?” 

“If you call me Giggles, I’m hanging up and blocking you.” You threaten him. 

He responded with his own laugh, and god if you didn’t love his as much as he claimed to like yours.

“Chuckles?”

“I prefered Giggles.” You grimaced

“Merry?” 

“Too Christmas-y”

“Chirpy?”

“That sounds like a name for a bird or something you’d call your grandma. How are you so bad at this?”

“I’m trying!”

“Try to pick something better than all of those please, and do it in the next 30 seconds or I revoke your naming permissions.”

“Fine…Okay! I got it!”

“Cloud!” 

“Cloud?” You asked

“Yes! Like flying on Cloud 9!”

His selection brought a smile to your face. You pretended to think on it.

“It’s acceptable.”

“Yes!” 

“See? I’m not completely useless, and it fits because I’m flying on Cloud 9 whenever I know you’re my ATC.”

His admission caused your breath to catch in your throat. He really did know how to make a girl feel special, even though you knew you had no actual chance with him in the real world.

“I bet you say that to all the ATCs.”

“Well they are responsible for making sure that I don’t crash into other planes on the runway. Gotta keep them happy somehow”

You laugh at his joke, but holding some sadness because even though he was joking, in a way it felt like it held some truth. 

“But seriously, you have no idea how much joy you brought me yesterday. Both with our conversation and seeing that you actually gave me your number. Which is why I was really sad that you weren’t my ATC today.” 

He sounded sincere, but you tried to keep yourself from taking his lines to heart. 

You smiled. 

“Speaking of your number, how the hell did you get that piece of paper into my dash?”

“There was no one else I saw near my jet except my squad and they were with me the entire time. When did you manage to do it?”

“A girl doesn’t reveal her secrets Rooster.” You jested

“Speaking of secrets, pray tell why it took you over twelve hours to use it?” You asked him, you had to know.

“Yeah, sorry about that late text sweetheart… I stayed out at the Hard Deck with Mav a little later than usual. It was my dad’s death anniversary and I honestly spent most of the day sulking and dreading leaving my apartment.”

“Oh.. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You responded sympathetically, now feeling guilty at asking such an intrusive question. 

“No worries sweetheart, the minute I heard your voice on comms, it brightened my day, even more so when you gave me your number.”

“So thank you for the boost and the motivation to finally kick Mav’s ass in the sky.”

Your heart felt warm hearing that you had that effect on him, you woul’ve believed his words if you didn’t know better.

“You’re welcome Bradley.” You finally called him by his real first name, admittedly it felt right coming from your mouth.

You both sat in comfortable silence when you were interrupted by the smoke alarm in your kitchen. It hit you that your dinner was left on the stove forgetten during your conversation with Bradley.

“Oh shit, I’m pretty sure I just burnt my dinner. I gotta go before I set my entire apartment on fire.”

Bradley chuckled at your unintentional lapse of memory.

“Okay sweetheart I’ll talk to you soon.”

You ended the call. 

You managed to clear out the smoke out of your apartment, but unfortunately did not save your chicken. 

You had to settle for a frozen hot pocket that had been in your freezer for God know how long, but hey it did the job and beggars can’t be choosers. 

You felt the tiredness from the busy workday hit you and you decided it was a good idea to turn in early. You showered and finished your nighttime routine and settled into your bed with your phone on your nightstand.

Your phone flashed once again to signal a text. Apparently, Rooster had the same idea about an early night. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Goodnight Cloud <3 I’ll talk to you tomorrow

You: Goodnight Bradley :)

——————————————————————————————-

You were honestly pleasantly surprised at how consistently you and Bradley communicated. 

It followed the same schedule. During the days, you were usually his ATC so he would of course flirt with you over comms, and you’d try to maintain come decorum of professionalism, but would eventually flirt black. Persistence is key and Bradley is nothing if not persistent. 

When he wasn’t in the air during work hours he would sneakily text you his little random thoughts he had during the day. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Have you ever noticed how small Hangman’s mouth is?

You: What?

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: No seriously look at it. His mouth is always scrunched up even when he smiles.

You: Why are you staring at Hangman’s mouth?

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: We’ve been stuck in this meeting and he keeps chewing that stupid toothpick, its distracting.

You: Didn’t realize you had a thing for Seresin, Brad Brad? 🤔

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: ???????

You: You just said his mouth is distracting

You: Its okay Rooster, just say you wanna kiss him, the tension between you is so thick you can cut it with a knife.

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: I don’t want to kiss Hangman >:( 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: You wanna know who I do wanna kiss though? 

You: Let me guess…..

You: Bob! 

You: Or better yet, Cyclone 🤪

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: No :(((

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: I wanna kiss you

You: Let’s Play 8 Ball!

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Ha ha you’re hilarious

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: If I beat you then can I get a kiss?

Read 2:13pm

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Ouch :(

On weekday nights where he didn’t go to the Hard Deck, you would have your nightly phone call at 7:30pm sharp where you would both stay on the phone while you both cooked dinner. You would catch up on the little things during the day that you didn’t text about and just mostly got to know one another.

You can admit that yes, what initially drew you to Rooster was his beautiful smile and his skill as a pilot. But the more you spoke to him the more you saw not just Lieutenant Commander “Rooster” Bradshaw. But you also saw Bradley.

You quickly saw that he was kind, humble, and so caring of others. 

“Hey Cloud,  I’m sorry for calling you so late.” You noticed his tone was more solemn than usual and checked the time, it was nearing 8pm.

“It’s fine Bradley, you’re not that late.”

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

“Payback and Fanboy flew into a jetwash today….”

“They had to eject.” He answered dejectedly

“I heard about that. Are they okay?”

 Laura told you about the incident a little earlier, she was the ATC for the flight. The ear-splitting static that hit her headset after the aircraft collided with the ground was enough to shake even the most experienced ATC. So you couldn’t imagine being the pilot and the WSO in that situation. 

“They’re at the hospital overnight for observation. I stuck around to make sure they were okay.” 

It was very strange for you to hear Rooster so despondent. You knew he cared about his friends, and he would do anything for them, but it felt like there was more to the situation. 

“You’re very thoughtful for that Bradley.. I’m sure they appreciated it”

“It was my fault, Cloud.” he confessed. 

You were taken aback at his admittance, but you would’ve heard if there was someone that was directly responsible for the accident, it involved aircraft worth millions of dollars after all. 

“They flew into my jetwash.” 

“Bradley, that wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have controlled their flight path.” You tried to reassure him.

“But I shouldn’t have been so reckless!” He exclaimed. 

“If I wasn’t so busy trying to outdo Coyote, I wouldn’t have almost hit a bird strike and had to slow down, and they wouldn't have gotten caught in the wash.”

You didn’t want to tell him he was being irrational for blaming himself for a situation that was clearly out of his hands, you knew there was something more there. 

“But they’re fine right? Everyone is okay. No one was seriously hurt.” You explained to him.

“Yeah no one got hurt….THIS time.” 

His statement piqued your interest, you were getting somewhere.

“What do you mean?” 

He sighed, finally letting go of the pretenses. 

“That’s how my dad died.” He confessed.

In a way you knew about LTJG Nick Bradshaw and his untimely death during his Top Gun training, but none of the sordid details. It felt disrespectful to dig into Rooster’s family without him knowing. 

“Oh..” You couldn’t think of what to say. 

“He and Mav flew into a jetwash and when they ejected…my dad hit his head on the canopy. Dead on impact.”

You kicked yourself for thinking he was being irrational. Now all his self blame and his aversion to throwing caution to the wind while flying finally made sense. It also made his relationship with Maverick a lot clearer to you. 

On one hand, you were thrilled that he was confiding in you. But on the other hand you were also heartbroken for Bradley, he lost his dad so young and as much as you wanted to hug him, and let him cry on your shoulder, you couldn’t. 

“Were you close?” You settled on asking him. 

“We were, he’s the reason why I worked so hard to be where I am now.” He reminisced. 

“I’m sure he is very proud of you Bradley. You are not only an incredible pilot, you are also an selfless, caring, and incredible man.” You reminded him. 

“He would give all the credit to my mom.” He lightly chuckled. 

“She raised me alone after my dad died.”

“She never remarried?” You asked

“No, she said that dad was her soulmate. She would never find another man like him.”

You can tell how much love Bradley had for his parents, and the love they shared for one another. 

“It sounds like they were really in love.” You smiled 

“They were. My dad would always serenade my mom. He loved the 50s and the 60s so everytime he saw a piano he would wail out ‘Great Balls of Fire’ while my mom would act embarrassed, but she would eventually sit on his lap and sing along.” 

“That’s beautiful Brad, they really were soulmates.”

“I hope I can find a love like theirs someday.” You sighed dreamily. 

“Who knows? Maybe you already have.” He responds softly.

A comfortable silence settled between you for a few moments. 

“Hey Cloud”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime Bradley.”

You noticed that it was now getting late and exhaustion was starting to take over your body.

Bradley seemed to notice this as well.

“Do you think I can sing to you Cloud? Like my dad used to with my mom?” 

“I would love that Brad.” 

You slowly fell asleep to the sound of his voice singing ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’.

And like that, there was no denying, that you’re falling even deeper.

——————————————————————————————-

You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up. It has been months since you and Rooster started talking regularly and you couldn’t help falling in love with him a little more everyday. 

The problem is, you knew that his patience was wearing thin, as he was asking you more and more frequently when he can see you face to face or even know your real name.

You knew you owe him all of that, but how could you tell him? When you know in your heart that once he sees you and knows you. He would know you weren’t worth his time. 

That realization kills you because he means everything to you. You’ve shared your hobbies, your stories, your dreams with him. 

How can you go on living without him in your life once you know the feeling of him being there. 

He has planted himself a permanent spot in your heart, and once he’s gone, there will be a gaping hole left in his wake. 

He was being as kind and as patient with you as he could, but you couldn’t blame his growing anxiety about your identity. 

It also didn’t help that you were constantly under the scrutinous eyes of Lieutenant Commander Seresin. After he caught you on the Tarmac, he seemed very suspicious of you. Like he knew you were up to something but just couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Luckily you’ve been able to fly under the radar around him. Yes he could be a little ignorant and too much of a flirt for his own good but he was smart as a whip and you knew that if anyone could figure out what you were doing it would be him. 

You were currently sat with ATCs in the mess hall, on the other side of the room from where the dagger squad has decided to congregate. You were trying to subtly sneak glances at Bradley. 

He looked particularly handsome today, his sandy hair was slicked back and his tanned skin glowing. He even had his signature Ray Ban Caravans on. You normally hate when people wear sunglasses indoors but he made it work without looking like an asshole. And it looks damn good on him. 

You sighed and as you moved your focus away to not arouse suspicion you noticed Hangman look at you with narrowed eyes. You pretended not to notice. 

Your attention was diverted by the vibration of you phone signaling a notification. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Is potato salad supposed to be green?

You smiled when you saw it was a text from Bradley

You: Depends, do you normally eat 2 week old potato salad?

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Mav said it was okay :(

You: Mav also thinks anything not cooked in a microwave is gourmet.

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Okay fair, its going into the trash. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: You know what is gourmet though? ;)

You: Mav

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Not funny :(

You tried to hold in your laughter to no avail and it was loud enough for the other ATC s to look at you in confusion. 

“Sorry, just saw a funny meme.” You explained, the ATCs accepted this explanation and went back to their previous activities. 

You looked up again to catch another glimpse at Rooster when you saw Hangman staring at your phone in your hand with wide eyes. Then looked down at Rooster also smiling down at his own phone, and then back at you. 

You could see the wheels in his head turning, and then he made a face that made it clear that he connected the dots. 

Oh shit. You had to get out of here.

You quickly packed up your food and sat up, not bothering to say goodbye to your fellow ATCs. 

You ran out the mess hall and down the hallway but before you could turn the corner a hand pulls you back. 

You are now face to face with Lieutenant Commander Seresin. He looked at you for a few seconds 

“You’re Air Traffic Control right?” he asked you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes sir I am.” You said trying to disguise your voice the same as you did on the tarmac. 

“Don’t play games with me honey, I know that’s not your real voice.” You gulped 

He still had a grip on your arm so you couldn’t run even if you wanted to. Curse these Navy men and their workout routines. 

“Tell me your name, and that’s an order.” 

You were sweating under his gaze, you’ve never felt more panicked in your life.

You tell him your name in your real voice. 

He finally released his grip on you and also seemed to drop his serious demeanor. 

“I knew there was something about you! You’re the ATC that old chicken has been flirting with over comms aren’t you??”

You nod looking down at your feet. Damn it, there goes your whole relationship (if you can even call it that) with Rooster, because Hangman is definitely going to rat you out. 

“You see, Rooster was telling the squad that he was in love. And so of course we ask him who she is.” 

“But how surprising was it when he said that not only has he never seen her face to face, he doesn’t even know her name.” 

He was now pacing up and down the hallway. 

“Then I remembered that day where he bet you your number if he shot down Mav, he magically got a piece of paper with a number on his dash seemingly coming from nowhere.” 

“But it wasn’t a magic trick at all, was it?” He asked you rhetorically.

“No sir.”

“Exactly! Because I caught you sneaking off the Tarmac moments before Rooster jumped into his plane and happily announcing that he got your phone number.” 

“I saw your face, so you are both the ATC over comms and the girl he talks to,  the one he says he’s in love with.”

You looked up shocked at his statement.

“He’s in love with me?” 

You looked up from the ground with hopeful eyes. 

“Yes he is.” Hangman tells you matter of factly. 

“You’ve presumably been talking to Rooster for months, but you've yet to meet him in person, let alone even tell him your name.”

“What game are you playing here?” He asks you

“It’s not a game, I do care about Bradley.” You sighed. 

“So then what is it?” 

“Sir, can we not please talk about it here?” 

You anxiously look around and see that people were now in the hallway exiting from the mess hall. And god forbid that Bradley was one of them. 

“Fine.” 

“Meet me at the Hard Deck after work.” 

——————————————————————————————-

 You were seated at the bar in the Hard Deck, your left leg bouncing anxiously.

You checked your watch, 5:47pm. Hangman said to meet him here right after work and you basically sped off the base to get to the bar on time.

You’ve been nursing the same beer for the past almost 30 minutes. You couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of your heart beating in your chest.

What was taking him so long? Did he forget? Did he already tell Bradley?

A million more questions swirled in your head. But you knew that if Hangman didn’t show up you were basically screwed.

Your self pity was interrupted by the booming sound of naval aviators strolling through the entrance, with one of them being Bradley and of course Hangman.

You were simultaneously trying to avoid Rooster’s gaze, while trying to catch Hangman’s attention.

When you finally caught his eye, you gave him a panicked questioning look. He gave you a subtle nod while continuing his conversation with the rest of the squadron. 

The crew made their way to their usual spot in the back with the pool tables. Hangman excused himself from the group nodding towards you.

You kept your eyes on him as he made his way to you. 

“Jimmy, can I get a beer?” Hangman asks the bartender.

“Lieutenant Commander.” You greeted him as he sat on the stool directly beside you.

He returned the greeting by saying your name.

“So let’s just get this out of the way. Did you tell Bradley?” You asked him, feeling a large brick settle in your stomach. 

“You can relax.. I didn’t tell Bradshaw.” He replies

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Relief flooding your body.

“But don’t think that you’re off the hook, you have some explaining to do.” Hangman added.

“What do you want to know sir?” You swallowed nervously.

“First of all, who are you exactly?” 

“I’m no one, I’m just an ATC.” You told him, looking down at your hands.

“Well you’re clearly not ‘no one’ if you’ve caught Rooster’s attention.” He rebutted.

“You’re little avoidance tricks might work on Rooster, but they won’t work on me.”

“And I know all your excuses for not meeting him are complete bs.”

“So why are you hiding from him?”

Now that’s the million dollar question isn’t it? It has been months since you started talking to Bradley, you spoke to him every single day, and fell asleep to the sound of his voice every night. Why were you hiding from him?

“I-.....I don’t know.” You confessed to Hangman. 

“Then whats stopping me from getting up and telling Rooster who you are?” Hangman asked you with a raised eyebrow. 

You stared at him, the words lost in your throat. 

“Nothing then I guess..”  He got up and started his way to the back.

You pulled his arm back similar to how he did to you earlier that day. He looked at you and your hand on his arm. 

“Please don’t…I beg you.” 

He sat back down on his stool giving you a questioning look but gave you the time to get your thoughts together. 

“I never intended for it to go on this long or this far..” You explained. 

“Bradley is so important to me. I knew he was special the first time I ever heard his voice.”

“It was during the uranium plant detachment from a few months ago. I risked my whole damn career to save him.” 

“I released the dagger reserve without Admiral Simpson’s approval.” You continued.

“That was you? You gave me clearance that day?” His eyes finally lost the skepticism and was replaced with admiration. 

“I did, everyone in that control room was completely frozen. I couldn’t just let them die.” 

“But that doesn’t explain this whole situation you have going on with him.” He questioned

“That was the last I expected to ever see of him, but you all decided to stay here in Miramar and I made the mistake of speaking to him a little too long over comms.”

“That’s to be expected honey, Rooster is a big ol flirt.” Hangman chuckled.

“Well not as a big of a flirt as me though.” He winked at you. 

He was trying to ease your worries and you appreciated that from him. Especially since he thought the worst of you less than 10 minutes ago. 

“And of course you and Mav have heard how he got my number over comms and thats currently where we are now.” You finished.

“Okay so thats the backstory, and you clearly care about him and he cares about you.”

“So it still doesn't answer why you haven’t told him who you are.”

“Think about it this way Lieutenant Commander…”

“You, Phoenix, Payback, Coyote, and Rooster. You are some of the most important and most revered people in the Navy short of the Admirals.” 

“You are the first in command, you are the best of the best in the entire world.” 

“What do I? A low level ATC, have to offer Bradley?.”

“I am just me, and he is who he is. I could never be a person whos good enough for him.” 

“But didn’t I just tell you? Bradshaw is in love with you.” Hangman argued. 

You smiled sadly, turning your head to glance at Bradley at the pool tables. His head thrown back in laughter at something Fanboy said. 

“Maybe..he is.” You turned back to Hangman.

“But one look at me and he’ll change his mind.” 

“I don’t understand. Do you think you’re-” Hangman’s response was interrupted by Rooster popping up behind you both. 

“Hangman, I thought you were getting a beer?” 

You suddenly felt lightheaded, the sight of Rooster standing so close to you making your heart beat a million times per minute. 

“Whos your friend?” Rooster asked Hangman while looking at you with a smile. 

You wouldn’t dare open your mouth and speak, risking Bradley recognizing your voice. You stared at Hangman with pleading eyes, hoping he didn’t give you away to Rooster.

Hangman looked at Rooster and back at you, pausing for a moment.

Hangman finally speaks telling Rooster your name. Fuck. You were naïve to think he’d keep your secret.

“We actually just met, she’s getting over a case of laryngitis so her voice is a little hoarse.” Hangman explained. 

You smiled at him, silently thanking him for not revealing your charade. 

“Hi, nice to meet you.” You let out in a hoarse voice, turning to look at Bradley.

He reached out and shook your hand and you can feel your stomach doing backflips for finally getting to touch the man that you’ve spent several months falling in love with. 

“Well I’m sorry to hear that ma’am, I hope you feel better.” Bradley offered politely.

“I’ll leave you and Hangman to your conversation.” He excused himself and returned to the pool table, you stared at him longingly as he walked away. 

Hangman looked at you in amusement. 

“You got it bad, don’t you honey?” Hangman asked with a slight chuckle. 

“That obvious?” You asked him

“Couldn’t be any less subtle if you tried.” 

“Which makes it so funny that Bradshaw had no clue its you.” He chortled. 

“Me personally, if I were him, I would know it was you the minute I saw you.” He added with a smirk,

Leave it to Hangman to be an insatiable flirt.

“Thank you for helping me out.” 

As big of an asshole Hangman can be, he really did have a good heart. 

“Your secret is safe with me honey.” 

——————————————————————————————-

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[nickfowlerrr]

pretty when you cry - chapter ten

series masterlist / chapter eleven

*originally posted to @bellareadsandrecs on 05/13/22*

pairing: dark!biker!bucky x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. 18+ ONLY. dubcon smut. noncon/dubcon relationship. spit kink. slight degradation. unprotected sex. nipple play. swearing. choking. mentions of past noncon intercourse . kidnapping? uh the crying kink - i literally can’t remember what it’s called lmao 💀 if i’m missing anything please let me know!

words: 4.4k

notes: like i said in a post earlier - this is definitely not the last chapter lol. i added something that turned into a bigger something and so there’s gonna be way more to come. majority of what i wrote for chapter ten originally is now pretty much all in the next chapter lmao. i’m really dragging this thing out, aren’t i? anyway if you were looking forward to reader’s punishment… you’ll have to bear with me until next week. but i think it’s worth it 😌 hope you enjoy this chapter which is literally just smut 💀 mean!bucky makes his triumphant return in chapter eleven so keep an eye out for that. feedback and comments are more than welcome and always appreciated! thank you for reading and reblogging. 💗

This is a DARK series!!! Please proceed with abundant caution.

You didn’t pay much attention to anything aside from finding an empty pump. That was easy enough to do on a Sunday night. There were only two other cars getting gas and a couple of cars parked in front of the store front. You parked by the nearest station you could and hopped out with your debit card in hand. You inserted the chip into the card reader so you could pay and expected to be prompted to begin your pumping.

But that didn’t happen.

The screen read that there was an error. Annoyed and huffy, you tried again. And then once more before another message came on the screen saying you’d have to pay inside. The last thing you wanted to do was waste time dealing with a cashier and having to go in, but you didn’t have any other cards you could try. Begrudgingly, you rolled your eyes and rolled your neck, trying to relieve some tension before you’d be face to face with another person. You were sure you looked erratic so you tried to pull yourself together before leaving your car and rushing to get inside so you could pay. You just needed to fill up your tank and get the hell out of there.

The ringing of the bell on the entrance door alerted you to a nervous looking cashier. He was breathing like he was trying to keep himself calm as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. When he saw you, he gave you a nervous smile that you cautiously returned. Something was off. Something was wrong. The bell rang again but you didn’t pay it any mind. You wanted to just say screw it and find another gas station downtown, but before you could turn around and head back to your car, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped at the unexpected touch and paled at the unexpected face that met yours as you looked behind you.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Natasha said in her smokey voice with a smile on her face. She either didn’t seem to notice your rising anxiety or just decided to ignore it as she moved her hand off of you before continuing. “Now what’s Bucky’s girl doing all alone on this side of town this late at night?”

“It’s not that late,” you said defensively. “And I’m not his girl,” you quickly added, rushing to remind her and yourself of that. She just smiled and laughed at you - you couldn’t tell if it was condescending or if she really thought you were joking - but it didn’t matter. And if you hadn’t been annoyed already, you were well and truly pissed off now. To which, Nat quickly caught on.

“Down, kitty. What’s got you all riled up?” she said, sounding concerned, but again you really couldn’t tell if she was just being condescending or not.

“I just need to put gas, okay? Is that not allowed? Do I need a chaperone to go out alone now? As if I haven’t been followed around nearly everyday for almost a month,” you ranted, ignoring the gaze of the other customers in the small store, all of whom quickly left after Natasha looked at them with a stare that chilled even you.

After the last person left, Nat finally returned her gaze to you.

“Got somewhere to be?” she asked as she took in your nervous, agitated demeanor.

“Home,” you lied swiftly. There was no way she knew what your plans were or even if Bucky knew where you were at the moment.. “Bucky’s waiting for me, so..” you added, lying further as you glanced around outside, desperately wanting to escape to your car.

“Oh, I’m sure he is. But what’s the rush?” she said as your eyes then landed on Sam outside the window of the convenience store, hanging up his phone before he started making his way inside. In an instant, everything clicked. You didn’t know if you should be scared or angry. Reality was both, but you decided to go with anger.

“What is the rush?” you bit out. “You tell me. Why do we need to talk right now? I’m sure we both have places to be.”

“I think you know exactly where you’re supposed to be. And we both know it isn’t at a gas station with your car packed like you’re about to skip town.” she said seriously.

“And I think, it’s none of your business. Scoping out my car the second I walked away?” you said harshly as Sam neared the both of you.

“Honey, I clocked you the second you pulled in,” she responded as Sam came to stand next to her. It felt like they were blocking you in. They probably were.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Sam began before you cut him off.

“Save it.” you interrupted. “You were just talking to him outside, right?” you asked him straight up. Silence was your answer. “He’s on his way, then?” you continued.

He still didn’t really respond, just looked at you with sympathy. It made you even more upset.

And then you heard the roar of Bucky’s bike. And you knew you were fucked.

“I really thought you were different,” you said sadly to Sam before trying to walk past him and Nat to get back to your car. You could see Bucky from where you stood and to say he looked pissed was an understatement. He looked nearly unhinged. He had parked his bike behind your car and when he threw open the back door, you only then realized you had left your car unlocked and your keys in the ignition. As you watched him, you were sure he was rifling through your bags.

Before you could pass them, Sam stopped you gently. It didn’t take much, you could feel the fight draining out of you with each second that passed.

“I’m sorry. But he would have lost it completely if you just up and disappeared. I promise you, it would have just made things worse. No one would’ve been safe. I’m just trying to help protect you and the people you care about. And… he loves you, you know that. You two are meant to be together, aren’t you? You’re soulmates?”

You ignored his last question. Tired of hearing “but we’re soulmates” as an excuse for the way Bucky was acting.

“You think this is protecting me?” you asked, truly confused. But they didn’t know. How would they have?

“He’d never hurt you,” Natasha said confidently. You couldn’t help but laugh wryly at that. With a shake of your head, you turned back around to head outside to your car.

You were surprised to see that Bucky was pumping gas into your car but when he saw you, he slammed the pump back into its station and closed the cap to your tank as he stared at you predatorily. Worry and confusion running through you. You couldn’t tell for the life of you what was going to happen next. You couldn’t figure out what he was going to do.

He was fuming as he watched you approach slowly and cautiously.

“Where the fuck were you going?” he asked, deceptively quiet, when he knew you were near enough to hear him.

“Nowhere,” you began without thinking. You felt like how you did as a kid getting caught in a lie. Right before you knew you were about to be in trouble. For some reason, you just tried to keep lying instead of admitting the truth and facing your punishment, desperately trying to avoid it. “I wasn’t-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, y/n! Do you think I’m stupid? Like I didn’t see these bags packed full of your shit?” You flinched at him suddenly yelling at you even though there was a good distance between you still. The only other time he had yelled, truly, yelled at you like that was the night he had broken into your house the first time.

“I just needed to get away. I need to be away from you. I mean, you just threatened my family, Bucky. Did you really expect me to just be fine with that? I - I can’t have these threats hanging over my head. I don’t want to be forced to be with you. You’re trying to blackmail me into a relationship and this is just - this is all so fucked,” you said, broken hearted.

“Get in the car,” he ordered harshly.

“No,” you refused, trying to hide the nerves in your voice.

“Get your ass in the car before I make you get in,” he growled.

You looked behind you as you felt eyes on you while yours had started to sting. You saw Sam and Nat staring from across the lot, watching raptly at the embarrassingly dramatic scene unfolding before them. You realized then that they were really just watching you. As if you’d take off running at any given moment. You accepted then that you didn’t have a viable way out of there. So, reluctantly, you climbed into the passenger seat of your own car as Bucky got into the driver’s seat in the blink of an eye.

Bucky peeled out of the gas station the second you closed your door. It was tense and quiet and you could literally feel the rage radiating off of him. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel and his jaw was clenched so hard you were momentarily worried about his teeth. You wanted to speak, to say something. To protest at the very least. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You didn’t think you could push him any further before something bad happened. But a sinking feeling in your gut was telling you that something bad was already happening.

He drove in silence for what felt like forever, but in reality was only about 15 minutes, before he passed the sign indicating that you were now out of the town limits. You turned to Bucky the second that information registered.

“Where are you taking me?”

He didn’t look back to you, didn’t respond at all, just accelerated his already over-the-limit speed.

It was only a couple minutes later that your question was answered as he pulled up to a secluded house just outside of town. It was nice. Really nice. It was a two story modern farmhouse. It looked new and… costly. You were still confused though. You didn’t know where you were or why he had taken you there. Was this his house? You didn’t think much more on that, though as Bucky parked and shut off your car - exiting it just as swiftly.

He rounded the hood and threw your door open before he dragged you out of the car, not even giving you the chance to react. His grip was strong and it hurt as he walked you up to the front door before he opened it almost effortlessly and shoved you inside.

Not having the wherewithal to even try and stop your motion before you tripped over yourself and fell to your hands and knees. When you turned back around in shock, you realized that Bucky wasn’t there. He was back at your car, grabbing all of your bags from your back seat. You scrambled up to your feet and as you went outside to protest, he turned back on you before you even stepped foot out of the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you seethed as you tried to hold your ground at the threshold of the door. He walked straight up to you, his glare alone enough to send you walking cautiously backward into the house. He threw your bags down and slammed the door shut behind him, his dark eyes never leaving yours as he stalked toward you. For the life of you, you couldn’t look away. Your throat went dry as you watched him approach closer and closer and the most unexpected thrill went through you, but you refused to pay it any mind as you needed to figure out your next move in this unknown space. Before you could, though, Bucky finally responded to you.

“Taking what’s mine,” he said roughly as he grabbed you by the waist just the same. He moved so swiftly and had you pressed up tightly against him in the blink of an eye before he moved his metal hand to your throat, applying constricting pressure as he stared down into your eyes. You could only imagine what you looked like, mouth agape as you stared up at him, hands pulling at his wrist trying to get him to drop his grip on your neck.

He loosened his grip after a moment of you struggling against him before his hand moved up to your jaw, holding your face up to keep your gaze.

“You are mine,” he stated hungrily before leaning down and crashing his lips to yours, his metal hand never leaving your face, just pulling you closer. You were astonished by how desperate it felt. As he grabbed at you and kissed you deeper than ever, you realized that he was, in fact, acting in desperation. He pulled away only to breathe before he picked you up behind your thighs and lifted you as you reflexively wrapped your thick legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He held you effortlessly as he walked you up a staircase leading to the second floor. Your mind was in a haze as he entered what you assumed was the master bedroom. He dropped you onto the bed and wasted no time in removing his clothes before he did the same to you.

You didn’t fight him. In fact, you helped him as he removed each article of clothing you were wearing. Your armor quickly falling as his touch set you on fire. Nothing made sense but that didn’t matter. None of it mattered. All that mattered was him. It was disorienting how quickly things turned in.. less than an hour.

After you were laid back on the bed completely naked, he climbed on top of you, lavishing kisses from your lips, along your neck, to your breasts, down your stomach and finally kissing down to your pussy. You were already wet and his desperation was making you feel the same.

He licked and sucked hungrily, leaving you writhing beneath him. His hands found your hips, holding you down to stop you from involuntarily moving as you were looking for more stimulation from him. He swirled his tongue around your sensitive clit before sucking it into his mouth, eliciting a pleasure fueled scream from you as you grabbed onto the sheets. He sucked for a little longer, before releasing you, moving to lick one last long, deep stripe through your folds up to your bundle of nerves.

As he moved back up your body, you felt his hard length pressing against you as he leaned down to be face to face with you again. His flesh hand moved to grip your chin once again as his metal hand was beside your head, holding him up above you. You were breathing heavily as you stared into his deep blue eyes while he looked down at you with an undeniable, carnal, lust in his gaze.

“You really thought you could just leave me like that, sweetheart?” he asked, almost pained. You didn’t know what to say and the urge to apologize was one you had to fight as he continued staring down at you. He leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your lips before adding, “You can’t leave me. You’re never gonna leave, you understand me?” he questioned harshly as he gripped your jaw tighter in his hold.

You heard the unspoken threat and knew that you weren’t getting away from him again - but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care at the moment as you nodded as best you could while he held your face firmly.

“Good girl,” he praised darkly as he let go of your face and moved to grab his pulsing cock in his flesh hand. He pumped himself twice and you watched as precum leaked from his tip. He moved to angle himself at your entrance before he ran the tip of his cock through your wet folds teasingly. You whined under him and he wasted no time in moving to enter you harshly. You cried at the intrusion, though you were wet and wanting, his size was still a lot for you to take. You gripped his arms that were holding onto your waist as your legs encircled him once more. He didn’t slow down even as you cried. He only held you tighter, and you were sure his grip would leave you bruised like it had before.

“Please,” you cried out as he continued thrusting deeper and deeper into your wet heat. “Please, Bucky, slow down, I can’t.. I can’t take it. S’too much,” you pleaded.

“Oh sweetheart, you can take it. I know you can,” he said patronizingly. “Just keep crying, princess. Love it when you cry for me,” he grunted through his teeth as he pounded into you even harder, leaning closer to your face, kissing away your tears as they fell. You felt like you were being split in two as you cried out his name once more.

“Bucky, it hurts!” you sobbed through the pain and pleasure coursing through you.

“It hurts?” he asked softly in your ear, voice laced with fake care, “How much?” he growled as he rutted into you again, pulling back to look at you, causing you to gasp out, your breath catching in your throat at the feeling his tone sent through you and at the even harder thrust he sent into you as he moved his hands to take your own in his. He moved them up and pinned them to the bed as he intertwined your fingers. His thrusts didn’t slow, he just kept moving against you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls, the head of him hitting your g-spot perfectly with each thrust, only making you cry out more as you moaned pathetically, the sound turning into a sob. Your heels were digging into his back as you arched yours, inadvertently pulling him closer.

As he leaned back down to you, his face dropped to your neck as your chest touched his. His hands left yours and he moved them to hold onto your waist and around your back as you were still arching against him, holding you close to him as your hands found his biceps before snaking around to wrap your arms around his back.

You felt him biting harshly at the tender skin of your throat before he soothed the sting with his tongue. “You hurt me,” he nearly whispered against your skin. “I think you deserve a little pain tonight, too, princess. S’only fair,” he continued before he moved his head down to your breasts.

You didn’t realize how close you were to coming until Bucky took one of your nipples into his warm, wet mouth and suckled on it, swirling his tongue around your pert bud as his hand found your other breast and played with it, tugging and pulling at your sensitive nipple, squeezing the mound of flesh in his large hand, groaning around your tit as he felt you squeeze his cock even tighter as you inched closer to your impending orgasm.

He bit your nipple and you yelped at the pain, soon replaced by the unrelenting pleasure he was unleashing on your body. His warm tongue swirling around the bud yet again to soothe the sting as he continued pounding into you relentlessly, your nails digging into his back. Every thrust - more forceful than the last, every bite more deep, but every kiss, more sweet. It was the most pleasurable torture to be at his whim. It was painful, but still, you wanted more.

With his arms still around you and you clinging to him, he pulled you up, keeping you against his chest as he sat up with his cock still inside of you. The change of position had you mewling helplessly yet again as he had you sat on his thighs, thrusting up into you with so much force you could do nothing but hold onto him desperately. One of his hands found your hip as he pulled you down harshly against his every thrust, forcing you to meet him with each one as he bounced you up and down on his thick cock.

You relied on him to keep you upright against him, nearly completely leaning against his strong chest as your arms stayed wrapped tightly around him - your face nuzzling into his neck. He slithered his large hand from your hip to in between your sweat covered bodies, his dexterous fingers easily finding your clit as he began to rub it in tight circles as you clenched around him and clung to him tighter, mouth falling open in a silent cry as you came suddenly and violently, crying at the indescribable bliss that overtook you.

Bucky didn’t stop fucking you as he growled and shoved you back down on the mattress, pounding into you without abandon. His right hand was now on your waist and his left found your throat once again and he squeezed as he stared down at you animalistically. You saw the anger, hurt, and disappointment in his eyes, but the undeniable look of lust and longing was there too.

As he stared down at you, eyes boring into your own glossy ones, it looked like he was going to say something more, but didn’t. Just grit his teeth as his hand became more constricting around your throat, and his hips began to stutter in their powerful movements. You don’t know why - it was instinctive as your left hand reached out to his hip, craving him - wanting him closer - wanting to touch him, while your right hand covered his metal one still on you as he used your overworked and sensitive hole to chase his own release. A part of you was keenly aware just how easily it would be for him to crush your throat if he wanted to, and how controlled his strength was as he got closer. That turned you on, and you wanted more.

Your hand tightened around his, the constriction somehow bringing you closer to another orgasm, your silky walls tightening around him, making him groan deeply as he nearly lost control. You whimpered beneath him as he stopped moving inside you. His grip slipped up to your jaw and he forced your mouth open with the pressure.

“Tongue out,” he ordered harshly and you obeyed without thinking - absolutely no hesitation. He grinned wickedly before he lightly patted your cheek in approval. He pursed his lips and then spat onto your tongue - you could feel it running down your tongue into your throat before you swallowed it.

You were momentarily brought back to that first night - the memory of his saliva on your tongue before he left you like a used, broken doll alone in your bed. But the renewed thrusting of his cock inside your tight walls quickly pulled you back to the present.

“I get my cock in you and you just become so compliant, don’t you, princess,” he taunted before kissing you hotly. “This is just what you needed, isn’t it? Just needed me to fuck you stupid so you don’t have to think, don’t have to worry about anything,” he continued, you could feel his breath against your cheek as he spoke and you laid there, writhing, whimpering and whining beneath him.

You did feel stupid. Stupid and embarrased at how accurate he was. You really were being compliant, not even a little bit of fight was coming from you. But right now, with his cock thrusting so deeply into you, making you feel so unbelievably good - with his warmth surrounding you and his weight on top of you - you didn’t care.

You were slightly surprised that his taunting was sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core, while you heated up even more at his words.

“You gonna come again, pretty girl? I can fuckin feel you squeezing me. So goddamn tight,” he was breathing heavily and grunting above you while you stared up at him with wide eyes, nearly gasping for each breath you took in between your now weak moans.

His hands found your hips as his stuttered once again, but he didn’t stop this time. Only moved more brutally against you. The deep, hard strokes of his throbbing cock along your walls was addictive - you almost didn’t want him to stop despite the ache he was leaving you with.

He came as deeply as he could inside of you and when you first felt him shoot his hot come inside your walls, you came yet again around him. He hissed as your walls squeezed his member, wanting to keep him inside. Never wanting it to end. Because you knew what was going to happen once it ended. Once the euphoric high passed, you would be faced with that post-coital clarity. So you begged silently to let the bliss last forever.

Bucky’s arms wrapped around you once again and he flipped you both so that he was now on his back and you were resting on him. His hands rubbed up and down your curves while you both slowly tried to steady your breathing, his cock still snuggly inside of you.

You felt your eyes getting heavy and were grateful to have sleep take you so you didn’t have to come back to reality yet. As you felt yourself slip under, you vaguely heard Bucky’s voice.

“We’ll get the rest of your stuff tomorrow, sweetheart. You’re staying with me. It’ll be easier this way,” he spoke softly into your hair. “I didn’t want to force you, you know. I was trying to give you a choice. But you just kept choosing wrong,” he continued as he shook his head slightly. “You don’t have to worry about anything anymore, though. I got you. I got us,” he mumbled as your eyes shut fully. You didn’t respond, didn’t fully hear or understand him, honestly. Right now, you just needed to sleep. Your head was cloudy and all you registered before sleep took you was the feeling of Bucky’s hands on you, moving to pull his comforter up over the both of you, and his lips brushing your skin.

#dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x plus size reader #dark!bucky x curvy!reader #dark!bucky x plus size!reader #dark!bucky x chubby!reader #pwyc series #dark!biker bucky #dark!biker!bucky #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky #dark!bucky smut #dark bucky smut #soft dark bucky #soft dark bucky x reader #soft!dark bucky #soft!dark bucky smut #tw dubcon #tw noncon

[elysianeclipxe]

Our "LOVE" - modern! scaramouche

genre: fluff and angst, maybe a little hurt comfort

summary: your relationship with him has been through everything. why not turn back the clock and revisit those fond memories of yours?

word count: 2k @pastriithoughtx

sidenote: i'm still very new on writing for scara so i do apologise if he seems a little ooc... hopefully it's alright. i do hope you all enjoy reading this <3

Love

noun: A strong feeling of affection and concern toward another person, as that arising from kinship or close friendship.

Oh, if only it was that simple… Love is so much more and so easy to mistake as something else. It's also easy to mistake something else as so called love.

Love is simple and sweet. It's comforting and makes you feel safe. It's warm and gets butterflies to flutter in your stomach. Love is something people hold onto since the feeling of being in love is one of a kind. Love feels like home... That's how I felt with you.

But sometimes love doesn’t last. There are even times that love is never acknowledged since once you realise you’re in love there is no going back and that’s just too much of a risk to take. I mean, who wants to fall in love suddenly? Willingly giving your heart to someone and having it tossed to the ground and ignored for who knows how long. Maybe that’s why people don’t like to fall in love. They’d rather close off their heart from anyone, protecting it behind walls they built so high, wanting to keep themselves from inevitably getting hurt by that person they “love”. That describes you well, doesn’t it, Scara?

I still remember the first time we met. Me, a messily dressed freshman student running late for her lecture juggling all kinds of shit in her arms bumping into you, a comfily dressed student who looked so annoyed about everything. It was all a mess, a mess that I’m glad I made. Everything fell to the ground, including you and I. My coffee had fallen and spilled all over you and I swear my hands were shaking when I heard you mutter curse words under your breath. I apologised to you profusely, shutting my eyes shut as I braced myself for a particularly angry scolding when I saw your head start to lift up but, I got nothing.

“It’s fine, I have plenty more of these hoodies. Instead of focusing on me, why not focus on your own things?” He asks you, removing his hoodie so as to not become sticky from the coffee. You hadn’t even glanced over at your things all over the floor until he said that.

“Huh? Right, right, my things! Awww dammit, my things!” All your notes were soaked from your drink, a drink that you could no longer, well, drink. “No notes, no drink, and great I’m totally late for my lecture too! Absolutely wonderful. Why not start a storm outside as well while you’re at it!?” You yell at no one in particular. He grins at your frustration, lightly chuckling at the situation you were facing. Your eyes dart to look at him and glare, “I’m sorry, is this perhaps funny to you? You wouldn’t be laughing if you were me in this situation.”

“Hence why I’m laughing, cause I’m not you in this situation. How pitiful. Would you like some help?” He reaches out his hand to help you up, a smile framing his irritatingly pretty face. ‘Seriously? Does he really think that I’ll believe he’ll help, with that attitude of his? I can feel the sarcasm radiating off of him. HA, no chance.’

“Thanks, but I prefer getting help from people who actually mean it. Have a ‘wonderful’ day! See you hopefully never.” Gathering all of your things, you stand up and march away from that despicable human being.

“Hah, how amusing. I guess that wasn’t so much a waste of my precious time.” A slightly soaked page caught his eye as went near it. With a pinch of his fingers and a visible grimace in his face he picked up the page. Little notes scribbled over it, some bits with bleeding ink. It looked useless until he spotted a name by the top of the page... Your name. “Y/n, huh? Cute.”

To this day I still feel embarrassed about our first interaction and every time you tease me about it does not help in the slightest. Well, that one is for sure going to the memory books. But it doesn’t matter how embarrassing that day was, cause I can make you just as embarrassed, maybe even more. Because no matter how many times you deny it, we both know that you were the one who fell first. That day was just one out of the many times where you felt attracted to me.

You refuse to admit that you’re whipped for me even if it’s extremely blatant to everyone. I know, you know, literally everyone we know knows. Don’t worry though, I think it’s cute. Plus you aren’t the only one completely whipped in this relationship. You wanna find out how I knew you were so into me? Should I tell you? I’ll tell you, hehe. I observed you so much that I started to notice all the little things.

For example, your eyes would widen just the slightest whenever you were surprised or caught off guard. Or how you would constantly compare your hand and mine, loving the feel of my soft skin in contrast to your rough and calloused hands caused by your past. Or how about whenever I refuse to give you any affection, be it cuddles or kisses, your lips would lightly twitch and hands would clench. You’d even turn away to hide your pout and try to give me the cold treatment as a punishment even though it felt more cruel for you. But in the end you’d just take me in your arms, hold me tight, and refuse to let me go. Demanding your kisses as a reward for being able to withstand the long wait for affection.

You would never get too grumpy with me since you knew I was busy with something and had my reasons. It was so sweet and thoughtful, I miss that. Your little habits would always somehow distract me enough to forget the stress that I was facing beforehand. You always made it better, so thank you for that. So many memories I remember and hold dear to my heart. Hopefully you remember them too.

“Scara honey, I’m busy right now. Later. This is super important so please just let me be for now, okay?” Scaramouche can feel his heart slowly break as you look at him with tired eyes and a visible frown on your face. How many days has it been since you last got some proper sleep? He wants to scold you, he wants to nag you so much and just force you to get some needed rest… but he doesn’t. He knows you won’t like that and it'll be more annoying than comforting in your eyes, your severely tired eyes.

“Fine, use up all your energy. Just try not to faint on me, please. Call me if you need me, I’ll be in the living area.” He places a light kiss on your forehead, the touch of his lips lingering there. So warm, so loving. He leaves the door to the study slightly open so he can hear you call out if ever you decide to do so. Now it was time to relax.

No, that’s not fair. The male couldn’t stand the idea of him relaxing as you stressed your mind out on studying for your finals. So what does he do? He cleans up. He cleans up everything, and restocks the fridge and cupboards while he's at it. 'If she has to suffer, then I might as well suffer with her. Jeez this is tedious!' He shouldn't be like this, why would he willingly choose to suffer? IT'S STUPID! HE KNOWS HOW STUPID IT IS AND STILL DOES IT!! You were driving this man nuts. 1, 2, 5 hours passed by and his hands were itching to hold you. 'This is infuriating! How can she go 5 hours without sleeping, eating, and asking for my affection?!' He marches over to your study and barges in without a care in the world. "Y/n! I have had enough of this, I demand you to stop studying and at least…" he cuts himself off the moment he hears your sniffle.

"S-Scara…" You rush into his arms and quickly bury your head into his chest. The sniffling coming from you gets louder to the point you start wailing and every word you try to speak out just sounds like a jumbled mess. "I… sorry. So weak, tired. Can't do.. anymore. Wahhhhh, I'm sorry! Want cuddles, please." Although he could decipher some of your speech he still felt the need to hear it again, properly this time.

"Breathe. Now, I want you to repeat what you just said. At least try to put some effort in it this time you foolish bumbling mess."

You take a deep breath, "I'm sorry for being like this. I just feel so weak and so tired to the point I wanna pass out. I tried so hard but I just can't do this anymore! I'm a failure, I'm so sorry for disappointing you. I just.. I just want to push it all away and cuddle you. Even for just a second, I really need it." You look at him with pleading eyes that brimmed with your tears.

"Dumbass, why are you saying sorry? You're allowed to take a break and rest, you're not some kind of robot. You need sleep and food and all that other shit. Don't be a fool. Now come on, you are in need of affection. Needy baby." He guides you to the room and gets under the covers with you. He strokes your hair and kisses your tired eyes once you shut them close.

"Weren't you the one who barged into my study demanding hugs and ki-"

"I recall no such thing. Now shush, you need to rest." You open your eyes one more time and place a light peck on his lips. Closing your eyes once again you mutter, "thank you, Scara. I love you."

And I am thankful. And I do love you. Not just on that day specifically but each and every day that I spent with you did I learn to love you even more. I realised how different life is with you and how I tend to appreciate it a little more when I think of you. If only I knew what was to come then maybe I would have cherished those moments a little more. Even after all the ups and downs we've been through, I still don't regret the time I spent with you. I should, I really should, but it was all worth it to me.

It was dumb though, to do this. Cause no matter how much I loved you, no matter how many times those 3 words left my mouth.. I never heard you say it back. Not even a whisper of that word. That's when I realised that maybe you don't love me. I mean you built your walls so high and I wasn't able to break them down enough for you to say it cause those words weren't meant for me, were they?

I'm not sure. I might just be overthinking again like I always do, but it does make the slightest sense. No wonder I ran away. I'm sorry, I just can't stand the fact that I fooled myself in this relationship. That I wasted so much time and effort but came back empty handed and brokenhearted. Like you say, I'm a fool. A fool for you that is, hehe.

I love you, Scara. I really do. Even after everything that happened, I'll still love you. I just wish we ended it on a better note, if only, maybe then my heart wouldn't hurt as much. I'm a coward though, running away from my feelings. But this is for the best, right? At least this time you'll be able to find someone that you'll willingly break your walls down for. I wish I could be them. Whoever they are, I hope they make you happy, just like how you made me happy.

I love you, Scaramouche. And maybe one day, you'll love me too.

i'm really hoping this turned out well. i hope everyone enjoyed reading my first of many works on this account. let me know if i should make a second part but in scara's pov <3

© elysianeclipxe. all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my content onto other platforms.

#astrid writes🌸 #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #scaramouche fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin #wanderer #kunikuzushi

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ In the not too distant future, Ed and Stede have a conversation about 'the mistake.' Yes Mary Read is puking, so sue me.

For @fictober-event’s Fictober 2023 prompt: “If you don't stop now-"

Masterpost of my Fictober OFMD fics

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death Characters/Relationships: Stede Bonnet, Ed Teach. Ed x Stede MAJOR SPOILERS FOR EP 7. Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Trauma CW: this fic deals in detail with sexual trauma based on (canonical) mutually consensual but unhealthy or later regretted encounters.

Beautiful

It’s Ed who has Stede up against the wall tonight. His hands dig into that loose, light, wonderful shirt and lift, so they can really appreciate the feel of his belly as he writhes with pleasure and passion and need. Stede moans breathlessly into his mouth as Ed kisses across his lips and his cheek and down his neck, and the last time he’d tried this it got a good response so he gives a little lick and a touch of the teeth against Stede’s collar bone. He’s expecting the smouldering embers of desire to roar up at it, for Stede’s hands to dig into his hair like they so love to do, but Stede’s response is lacklustre. Hm. Maybe he’s not doing it right, or maybe Stede’s just not feeling that one tonight.

“Ed?”

“Mmnyeah?” He’s thinking, maybe I’ll try the ear this time.

“Stop.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The steam fizzles, only the ghost of it lingering in the air. His lips leave the skin of Stede’s neck, and immediately he feels parched. He drops reluctant hands from Stede’s waist. He’s not used to pulling back like this, but he can’t imagine continuing when he sees Stede’s face: tense, almost panicked, and the more Ed looks the worse it gets.

“What’s going on?” he asks. Concern floods through him. He’s starting to recognise that face now. It’s a face that happens right before one or both of them gets tempted to self-sabotage and blow everything up. “Let’s… talk it through.”

Stede cringes at the sound of his own advice. Shame flushes his cheeks and the back of his neck and he wants to run away and bury himself in the blankets. He avoids Ed’s big, beautiful, prying eyes with everything he has. At least he knows he’s spiraling this time, but knowing is different from stopping himself as he sinks into a quagmire of guilt. Knowing is different to being able to put words to it. But if they’re going to get anywhere, and so help him they’re going to get somewhere with all this, he has to try.

“I … just thought,” he manages, and thinks of how cold the air had felt as he was marched through the forest in his nightclothes. Of the smell of gunpowder. Of the sour taste it had left in his mouth when Ed had told him he was running away to fish. “If you don’t stop now… you might… do something you regret.”

“What are you talking about, regret? Pretty sure I’m the one about to rip those pretty little buttons off your pants.” Ed laughs just a little. He means it cajolingly, suavely, flatteringly, but he hears it land wrong and grimaces. He’s still getting the hang of this sincerity business. Stede shoves him away and he lets himself be shoved, circling around to follow him and pleading silently, don’t blow this up don’t blow this up.

“I’m serious, Ed!” Stede cries. “Don’t make another mistake just because of me.”

“I’m serious too, Stede!” Ed cries back, although maybe doing it in the same tone isn’t the best choice of the moment. “What the fuck do you mean ‘a mistake’?”

Too late it hits him. He was standing on the balcony. He was telling Stede that their timing was off, that he hadn’t been ready, but that’s not what he’d actually said. Not all of it, anyway. He’d said I think last night was a mistake. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” Stede retorts, but it lacks its usual edge. He looks so helplessly forlorn Ed desperately wants to kiss him but that’s so obviously the wrong decision that he watches helplessly instead, until Stede can psych himself up to say more. To voice the pain that’s been weighing on him at long last.

“It was meant to be beautiful, Edward,” Stede says, his voice cracking, eyes filling with tears as it all comes flooding out. “I really needed you, and it felt so good to me, I felt so strong and wonderful and free and it was so- it was so different than what it’s been like before. It felt like how everyone promises it’s meant to feel. And then I find out you never wanted to be there and I violated you too and I. I never wanted to hurt you, Ed, I never wanted to hurt you–”

Sobs shake his frame, threatening to overwhelm him. And it breaks Ed’s heart, it breaks his heart, and for a minute words fail him in the face of it. He presses their foreheads together instead, desperately, and finally Stede takes a deep breath. His hammering heart slows. 

“Stede,” Ed says, and he says it like a promise. “I don’t regret you, okay? Not for one second. I wanted to be there, and you didn’t hurt me. You didn’t violate anything.”

“Okay.” It’s easier said than done, to really listen, but he’s trying. Part of him is here with Ed, foreheads together, breathing the same air. But part of him is still in that forest at gunpoint. Part of him is stuck washing up in the bathroom after laying with Mary, knowing they both feel lonely and awful and cold. A defiler of beautiful things.

“It was beautiful,” Ed insists, “and I swear you didn’t make me feel anything but needed and wanted and loved.”

Needed and wanted and loved. Such small words, to fill such a cavern inside of him. He can still remember Stede’s hands, Stede’s lips on him. Hungry. Reverent. Beautiful.

“You weren’t ready.”

“Maybe not. But even I didn’t know I wasn’t, mate. There’s nothing we can do about that. Sometimes timing just sucks.”

“How do you know you’re ready tonight, then?”

“I guess I don’t. But I think I am, and that’s the best I can do. At least until Buttons’ little magic book shows me how to see the future. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah.” Stede nods. “But if it’s all the same to you, I don’t think I am.”

“Okay." Ed keeps his gaze for a long, grounding moment. He lifts his head, to kiss the spot where he’s been resting, and he cups Stede’s face in his hands. “What about this? Is this okay?”

“Mhmm.”

Ed wipes the tears from Stede’s cheeks with his thumbs. He nudges Stede’s chin toward his own.

“And this?”

“Yeah.”

A soft, gentle kiss.

“Okay. Tea and a game of superchess then? Haven’t thrashed you at that in a while.”

There’s a sparkle in Ed’s eye and in spite of himself, Stede smiles.

“Perfect.”

#fictober23 #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #omfd spoilers #clara's fic tag

[i-didnt-do-1t]

Inspired by @noxexistant ‘s notes on the mother of the delanceys because I am having Thoughts after reading them omg (hope you don’t mind the tag!)

(How Oscar talks about women in this one feels kinda icky just as a prewarning)

“It’s her birthday today.”

Oscar looked up from his plate, somewhat depressing in it’s mixture of mash potato and half cooked carrots but it was all they had in the cupboard and good enough for tonight.

“What?”

“Ma.” He knew he was making a mistake as he said it but said it anyway. “It’s her birthday.”

Oscar stared at him for a second before dropping his head again and Morris wasn’t oblivious to the way his hand flexed around the fork he was holding. He stabbed it harder than necessary into a carrot.

“She’s fuckin’ dead, it ain’t her anything.”

Morris waited, leant back in his chair actually, made it casual as he threw an arm over the backrest because he knew exactly what was coming, because Oscar was predictable in that way.

It was a give and take he was familiar with. If Morris wanted to talk about his mother, the only way to do it was through an argument.

So when Oscar opened his mouth again he wasn’t surprised by the vitriol he spat.

“And when the fuck did she try n’ remember our birthdays anyway huh.”

Morris could remember one birthday, his sixth, if he was right, that she had remembered. She had carded a hand through his hair and whispered Happy Birthday in his ear and slipped him a dime. He remembered how she told him not to tell da or Oscar about it.

(And yes maybe it was intentional that he didn’t think about the birthday she back handed him when he small enough for her weak hit to send him to the ground, but if he held that against her, he would have to hold it against Oscar too.)

(He ignored the fact that his Ma’s hits were far more frequent than any that ever came from Oscar. Ignored the fact that back then they had been mother and child not brother and brother who stood shoulder to shoulder, that he could hit Oscar back just as hard if he wanted.)

“You think it was easy for her to live with da?” He said, instead of thinking about.

He meant it as a genuine question, but he also knew it didn’t really matter how he meant it because Oscar would only ever take it one way. Morris knew this, knew Oscar and how he worked like the back of his hand, knew that if he wanted to have this conversation it was never going to be civil because it was them so what was the point in even trying. He had better things to spend his time on than trying to circumnavigate the inevitable.

Oscar laughed at that question at least, a bitter sound with no humour behind it, mean. “I think she was a whore who got ‘herself pregnant with a bastard kid and then had to marry the asshole. She did it to herself.”

“It ain’t like she had a choice though, is it?”

“What, you a suffragette or somethin’ now?”

“I’m just saying da was a bastard and you know he went at her too.” He paused, considered whether or not he should say this next part but Oscar had gone silent and he felt the need to fill it. “I think we ruined her life.”

It was statement, not an apology, he knew she’d ruined theirs too in her own way.

Oscar threw his fork down so hard Morris was concerned it might add another chip to the plate.

“Nah, I’m the bastard, and the bitch sure as hell made sure I knew it,” He said, “An’ if she weren’t our ma, some other poor fucker would’ve ‘ad her and she’d have some other bastard kid. Woulda ended exactly the same.”

Maybe Morris miscalculated. It came as a realisation far too late that he hadn’t accounted for how uncomfortable this might make him feel to hear, even if he’d heard it all before. Hadn’t accounted for his own anger that lay constant and dormant in the cavity of his chest.

“You shouldn’t call her that.”

“Why? What’s she gonna do? Haunt me? Couldn’t be fucked with us while she was alive Morris, don’t think she’s gonna give more of a shit now she’s dead.”

Morris let the silence swallow that statement.

And then too casually, because it was partly a matter of pride that he was able to stay nonchalant while Oscar got angry (Snyder had always said he was good at making people angry-)

“Do you think she was happy?”

Oscar let out another scoff, defused in an odd kind of way by the question and Morris knew it was because there was only one obvious answer.

“No.”

There was something in his voice that coated the word, something that for the first time in years, Morris couldn’t pin down. Like there was a secret between Oscar and their mother’s grave that he could only learn by getting soil under his fingernails.

“I think y’should drop it.” Oscar said.

Morris almost let that be the end of it. Almost.

“She did her best.”

“Jesus Morris. Drop it.”

He recognised the harsh line of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, the way his knuckles flexed white around the fork. His ma’s expression on his face in the same way his forehead creased like their da, almost the same reflection that Morris saw when he looked in a mirror.

Morris rolled his eyes and dropped it.

It had gone surprisingly better than he expected anyway.

#newsies #morris delancey #oscar delancey #the delancey brothers

[meshlasolus]

Satisfaction

(A/n and warnings in Masterlist)

Dustin was crouched in the bushes by the road, leaned against the big pine tree behind them to remain comfortable in his efforts. He knew this was crazy, he knew it was far-fetched and that he shouldn’t be out here. Not only was it creepy as hell to stalk a girl he just met, but additionally, his leg was still healing, and him keeping off of it would be far better than keeping crouched like this.

He almost called it quits and went home, but then you sped up the pathway, your bike hitting against the wood beams of your porch as you went inside. He steadied himself and remembered what this was all about… She was talking to Eddie, somehow, he can tell just by her mysterious demeanor as she walks in that there was something going on. The fact that she knew his late best friend better than he did, better than anyone did for that matter? He heard he voice on the radio, with Eddie’s. Something was still off, even after talking to her, there was something else. That’s what he constantly repeated in his head as he staved off any reason why he shouldn’t be here. He might be alive, and she might know about it.

He picked up his walkie once you were inside, and made sure Lucas was on the other end before quietly checking in to give an update.

“The eagle has landed, I repeat, the eagle has landed.”

“What does that even mean? We didn’t come up with call codes,” Lucas sounded irritated, and the booming voice came loudly from the walkie, which Dustin forgot to lower the volume levels on.

“Shit-“ he spun the dial to make the noise lesser, then took a breath and responded. “She’s inside, dumbass, what else could that have meant?”

“Just wait until something happens before you call me, we got some serious shit happening over here.”

“Did Max wake up?” Dustin had been hoping there would be more development, since they knew she’d started having elevated brain activity a day ago.

“Not yet, but some weird stuff is going on, we can’t really explain it.”

Dustin could have called this mission quits at that point, but with suspicious activity happening within your home all of a sudden, he felt intrigued to stay.

“Keep me updated,” Dustin almost forgot to let the button go, keeping it pressed while he was distracted. He let it go just in time to hear a small ‘will do’ from his friend.

With that, the channel went silent, and he heard strange behavior spilling from your open window. Were you… talking to yourself? And you were being so loud, too… as far as he knew, there was no one else in that house but you. Not even a dog, if he could tell correctly. He himself wasn’t often judgmental of such habits, as he might dabble occasionally in whispering his thoughts out loud, but you were full on projecting as if you wanted someone to hear you. He wishes he could get closer, as some of the words you said in the exact order were somewhat familiar to him… you were reading The Hobbit? Out loud?? To yourself???

He shook his head, about to deem your actions simply harmless and turn heel so he could go home, or better yet, the hospital. It wasn’t until he began packing up and you were heard crying- nay- sobbing that he again became concerned. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe you were still feeling pain like he was, grieving someone you loved and needed some room to do so, however it may be. Perhaps he just needed to start minding his own damn business and stop assuming that everyone connected to this untimely loss had something to do with it personally. He was smarter than this, usually. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t been thinking straight, the walkie thing might have just been in his head, or more likely, it was probably just a recording from years back. He quickly snapped out of his trance when he heard a twig snap further down the road.

A dark figure ran up to the porch, the dim light from the already set sun did little to illuminate a face, or even an outline against the home. He heard the figure fumble around for something, a spare key, before unlocking the door and going inside like they owned the place. The soft light from inside the doorway gave him reason to believe the figure was male, but that didn’t really make a lot of sense. It was weird, because he’d been told that you basically didn’t have a dad, and that you lived alone with your mom, but she wasn’t in town. Dustin knew better than to believe everything he hears from secondhand sources, but it all seemed pretty legit, and this situation, with a person going into your home late at night seemed eerie to him. You’d been having a very personal moment a few minutes ago, and though the noise had ceased, he doubted you’d invited company over in the short amount of time.

He sat and debated going inside… he didn’t know you, he barely talked to you, but wouldn’t he rather have it be a misunderstanding then hear tomorrow about how you were murdered home alone the night prior? The answer is yes, he would rather have an awkward misunderstanding. He prepared himself to partially invade the home, standing to his feet before crossing the road.

You’d been through the ringer, completely and totally. Your emotional pain was causing you to ache physically, and it felt like nothing could bring you rest. The only time you ever had any luck with sleeping lately was when you cried your eyes out, making you so tired that nothing could keep you conscious anymore, not even your overthought ridden mind.

You’d cried so much the past few days, it was insane. You were missing him, the sight of him, the feeling of him, even the smell of smoke and leather that always brought you comfort in the hard times.

You reached over to your dresser, removing a few things until you found what you were looking for. You’d ‘borrowed’ Eddie’s hardcover of The Hobbit that he’d stolen from the library in freshman year. You always meant to give it back to him, but never remembered to… For the past year, it sat there, taunting you. It was a reminder of loss way before it actually happened. You’d lost him twice, now.

Your heart had been so full of regret, of never trying to make amends, and never even saying hi when he came into the record store for new releases. He was your best friend, but somewhere along the lines of pride and stubbornness, you lost each other. It was fixable, until it wasn’t. Eddie is dead, there’s no going back now. It was your fault, from the beginning. You wished you’d been able to see that when everything first happened. Heck, you’d give anything to go back in time a few weeks, just to apologize and talk to him again. To see his face looking at yours, and maybe even see him smile. Damnit, he had the best smile.

You held the copy of the book close to your chest. You used to read it with him whenever either of you were sick. The other would read aloud, or you’d lay shoulder to shoulder, book held up in the air while you both read each line. You read faster than he did, always waiting for him to catch up before flipping the page.

You curled up on your bed, tears already brimming your eyes as you read the pages, as if he were still here listening to you. You even caught yourself glancing up a few times, to the opposite side of the bed where he sat. That small gesture out of habit that hadn’t faded away, even after a year of missing it was proof you still needed him here. You were going to be miserable for the rest of time, weren’t you? Just as well, because you deserved what you got.

In no time, streams of salty wetness trailed down the sides of your face, dripping on your shirt which was too clean as it were. You set the book down on your bedside table, relinquishing it out of your sight and to be used on another night like this one, where you needed to cry to sleep. It worked like a charm, and easily made your heart swell with pain and your throat to grow a lump meant for sobs.

You curled into yourself and cried, and cried some more. Things would probably in the far off future get better again. Even if you’ve lost everything you ever cared about, there’s unfortunately a long and massive stretch of time that grows thicker skin from experiences like this. Time heals, but it also numbs. The searing pain a year or two from now might just be a dull ache every morning. A small wince when you think about it, or dwell on memories. You tried to convince yourself that time would do its job and take due course. Now, though? You wanted to feel it.

It needed to hurt you for it to matter. If you turned a blind eye and let yourself become unfeeling, even after a year, you would consider yourself to be inhuman. Your heart still beat, didn’t it? So, it could break, too… and it did.

You slowly came to a slow and tear ridden cry, the body raking sobs long subsided. You began to relax, which had been the plan all along, to cry yourself to sleep… but you heard something behind you. You mentally cursed yourself for leaving the window open again. You liked the cool breeze at night, but apparently it would return to bite you in the ass. The radio turned on suddenly, though it hadn’t been touched, and Wicked Game started playing.

You quickly flipped over from facing the wall, eyes widening and breath catching when you saw the something, or someone, rather, who caught your attention so quickly. You blinked once, then again... and a third time you shut your eyes tight, reopening them to the same sight.

No…

This can’t be happening right now. You’re going crazy. There’s no plausible explanation as to why he’s standing here, right now, in this room, as if he never left it to begin with. It made more sense for time to have turned back than for this to be real in the moment.

You shook your head and the tears came back, but against your wishes.

“No, you’re not real," you couldn't pull your eyes away, because as much as you'd hate to admit it, you felt comforted by the vision in your mind's eye. "You can't be here, I made you up."

He tilted his head a little, his brow furrowed, and a distraught look worn upon his face when he'd seen your reaction to him. It wasn't completely as genuine as he'd normally be, because there was still only one thing on his mind, one thing clouding his better judgement. Your blood, he could smell it... flowing through your veins and taunting him.

You saw him lift a hand, and watched as he brought it to your face, thumb gently caressing your cheek. He felt real. You could feel his touch. Your eyes closed and a new set of tears spilled over, silently running down your face and onto his hand on one side. Hungry or not, he relished in being able to be near you again and had been waiting for the time when he could touch you again, long before death.

"You're dead," you shook your head, looking up at him and trying to see through glassy eyes his expression. He seemed dull to emotion right now, but maybe you were right all along, and he was dead. Maybe you were just going crazy. "I went to your funeral. I gave you my letter and-"

Him bending down into a kneeling position before you shut you up pretty fast. He got closer to you, not even having said a word yet, focused on something far from what you could even comprehend. The look in his eyes was dangerous, and even someone who didn't know him might run if they saw it... but those eyes were never a stranger to you, and you'd seen them at their worst and their best. This new gaze was intimidating, sure, but you wouldn't cower in fear.

"Eddie," you raised your hands to his face, too. Trying to picture a scenario that came after this where you didn't get sent to a mad house. He was really here in front of you, he had to be. You were sure of it, now. Touching him always felt the same. It was comforting, it was safe.

You collapsed into him arms, wrapping your own firmly around his shoulders, leaving his around your waist while his face was buried into your neck. It was deathly silent for a moment, as you breathed him in and got to remember the feeling of being surrounded by his protection again. You hadn't spoken to the boy in almost a year, but it would always feel the same with him. Always gentle, always true.

He wouldn't be able to control himself if he tried. Your neck's pulse point was raging with blood flow, right under his nose. He couldn't take it any longer. If he tried, he'd still fail, only becoming hungrier in the process.

He shoved you back into your bed, laying you beneath him and caging you in so there was no escape. You were taken aback at first, but not afraid or mistrusting of him. You still trusted him with your life, and though you didn't know what was coming, your life would most certainly be on the line.

"I need you," he whispered against your skin, the only words he'd spoken to you thus far. You were confused and anxious about what that meant, but he gave you no time to decipher.

The next second, your eyes were wide, and the stabbing pain of him biting your neck filled your body with alarm. You didn't struggle, nor scream, as you didn't seem to be able to. He was drinking from you, taking you for every last drop he could get. It was infuriating, the taste of your blood. It was better than weed, better than any high he'd ever experienced, and yet he was completely sober. He held you tighter, seemingly feeling as though this moment was one of an odd type of intimacy. What could be more intimate than drinking the blood of someone you love? It was dark, and it was strange, but you weren't scared... you couldn’t really even think.

You almost were able to relax into his bite, the sucking of your life force from your bleeding pulse point drained you of coherency. You couldn't see clearly, couldn't speak, and were beginning to fade in and out of consciousness from the loss of blood. You didn't worry, though. You still trusted that with whatever happened to him, and whatever he was doing to you right now, had a good enough cause, and that he wouldn't go far enough to severely injure you. Rationality left you at the sting of his bite it would seem. His saliva was like venom, the slow drip of it embedding in your skin and dulling the pain, spreading through your neck and into your shoulders, over your collarbone. It burned at first but left a numbness that was nearly pleasurable. You closed your eyes, turning your head to rest opposite from his wild hair, letting yourself go in the moment, not caring if you woke up, or if you ever did, when.

As he gained satisfaction, he also regained his own sense of mind, not one controlled by his hunger or his need for your blood specifically. With satisfaction came clarity of what he was doing, and how he was hurting you. Now he was fed to his liking he understood what he’d done and backed away immediately. He noticed first that you weren't awake, and that alone was freaking him out. He knew that he'd already killed a man by doing this to him, and oh, if he'd killed you... Now that was unfathomable. His face contorted into fear and anxiety racked his body, though not leaving a shiver like it normally would, because his body was now permanently in a cold state. He shook your body to try and make you stir, but it only made the blood on your neck begin to drip once more, running down your skin and ruining your pillows and sheets lied beneath you. It was a lot of blood, so much spilling out that he only ever remembered one other time he'd experienced seeing it like that, so thick, so relentless to stop. He remembered how scared he was then, and it terrified him now.

Your dad was an absolute piece of gutter trash, a genuine shit, if you will. Most people thought of him this way, never just you, and they had every right to feel that way. As the principle of Hawkins High, John Higgins made it his personal agenda to ruin the lives of anyone he could with reasonable or unreasonable cause. No one ever liked a school principle, no one ever wanted to be in trouble badly enough that they would get to see him in a school day.

Eddie unfortunately saw him a lot, as he was the school’s designated devil child. He often didn’t do anything to deserve his long waits outside of the principle’s office, but the all powerful Mr. Higgins had his ways.

Truth be told, he didn’t mind the Munson kid in the early high school days. He of course followed the notion that he was a freak, and weirded out most of the kids in his grade, but other than that, he’d understood that the boy was pretty harmless. That was until he found out how close Eddie was with you, his precious daughter. Not that he could even call you that anymore after he walked out on you and your mother for a girl half his age. Nothing ever became of that relationship, which inevitably meant he probably just didn’t want to be around in the family setting anymore. Eddie hated him for that, ever since you told him about what happened, crying on the broken swing-set in fifth grade. He hated your father, but not as much as you did.

That man tortured you by simply existing, by being a reminder that you weren’t good enough for him to want to stick around, and that the only reason he ever stood to look at you now was when you were in trouble. Take now for instance.

“I assume you had a good reason to deface the outside wall by the bathroom,” He sat back in his chair, head cocked and arms crossed lie he knew what he was saying.

“It wasn’t me, it was Jason Carver,” you said plainly, never meeting his eyes. He didn’t intimidate you, but the sight of him made you sick, and you didn’t want him to think he had that power over you.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as if he knew you better than the truth you were telling. He didn’t know shit.

“There are two witnesses who saw you with the spray paint can in your hand, don’t think you can trick me.”

“Pray tell, who were the witnesses?” You raised your head a bit, trying to convey to him that he wasn’t as wise as he thought he was, but of course, arrogant and impossibly stubborn as ever, he would never admit he was wrong. You’d still bet that Jason himself was one of said ‘witnesses’.

“That’s of no concern to you, the point is that you were seen vandalizing school property,” he paused, scooting his stationary chair forward, the sound against the ground was enough to irk your cringe reflex. “This is the second time this month you’ve been in trouble, I’ll have to call your mother.”

“She’s not home,” you informed him, and he looked at you with a confused expression. He really thought he was still on top of your home life, but he had no clue, and mostly you were grateful for it. “She’s at Aunt Carol’s in the city for a few weeks.”

This made him outraged. How dare she leave you unattended for so long without telling him? It was a complete travesty, and he grew angry over what he thought was his right to know. It wasn’t, he barely called to check in anymore, and hadn’t even spent more than twenty minutes with you since you were eleven years old. He had no right to know anything, that’s what you and your mom thought, anyway.

“Then who have you been staying with?”

You smirked, already knowing the backhanded conversation you were about to be hit with for this remark.

“That’s of no concern to you,” you threw his words back in his face, the confidence it was said with was undeniably there, and of course, it made your the man before you turn a shade of red you hoped you would never have to see. “Just know you won’t be able reach mom until Thursday.”

He all but slammed his fist down on his desk in front of you, your first reaction being to jump slightly in your seat, and blink fast over his growing aggression. This wasn’t out of the ordinary you supposed. He always got more agitated while dealing with you than he would with other unruly students. You weren’t scared, of course, there was only so much he could do while on school property.

“I might be your principle, but I am also your father,” he said through gritted teeth, making your skin to shiver, though you kept a straight face to deter him from thinking you were even the slightest bit uncomfortable. “I have a right to know what’s happening when it regards you.”

You laughed, short and breathy, but a laugh nonetheless.

“No, actually, you don’t. You gave up those rights when you turned over full custody. I don’t need to tell you jack-shit.”

You were boldly assuming he wasn’t about to expel you or worse for speaking to him this way, although there were always some different exceptions when it came to you, because this wasn’t an ordinary situation.

“I didn’t spray-paint the walls,” you huffed and shook your head, standing up and yanking your backpack from the ground, ready to book it outside to where your ride was most likely down on his knees praying that you weren’t getting demolished. You’d already taken far longer than you originally told him, given you had to wait half an hour just for your father to get out of a board meeting. “Open up Jason’s locker, there’s a few things in there you might find interesting.”

“We are not done yet, sit down.”

You stopped in your tracks before you got to the door. You didn’t even do anything wrong this time, so why was it you just had to be the one they blamed for the wrong doing? Maybe they didn’t have a reason at all. Maybe your father simply felt the desire to call you in today so he could terrorize you and give you some lovely interactions to think of for the next few weeks. You hated that you still thought about the words he said to you. You hated that even after all this time of shunning his existence, years of putting yourself back together in spite of him… you still remembered when he was your dad, and it bothered you that he wasn’t. It’s not like he’s an absent father, either. You get to see him everyday, though not by choice, and not by good circumstances. That’s the part that hurts the worst. He sees you in the halls everyday because he has to, not because he wants to, though he swears he does.

A few tears sprung up into your eyes but you refused to let them even peek over the corners. If he saw you cry, you’d consider it a great failure. To let him see that he still twisted emotions inside your head, and made you feel the weight of his heavy words, that would be the end of you.

“If you tell me where you’re staying I’ll let you off the hook for the school damage,” he offered, like he was being some sort of generous gentleman. You couldn’t tell him who you’d been bunking with, although if you told him you’d been staying home alone, you knew he’d probably try and make you stay with him, or he would call hopper to blame your mother for being irresponsible and leaving her child unattended though you were underage. “Classes are over, as far as I’m concerned we could be here all day until you speak.”

You closed your eyes, blinking away the first tear that was ever so sneakily trying to weasel its way down your cheek.

“I’m staying with Eddie and his uncle.”

His face fell immediately. Not that it was a pleasant thing to behold before, but now his anger had turned to pure hatred, and you couldn’t for the life of you understand why. Why did it matter so much that you hung around Eddie? What was the shame in having a good friend that would do anything for you?

“Absolutely not,” he reached for his phone on the desk, and you had to, in a rush of the moment, slam it back down before he could dial a number. “No daughter of mine will ever be allowed to stay with that trailer trash.”

Your heart broke, and the fogginess of your eyes had won, tiny streams pouring over your face. Eddie was good, and kind, and gentle. Eddie was genuine, and pure, and caring. Eddie was trustworthy, and honest, and giving. He was all these things and more, and you couldn’t stand the sound of hearing his name raked through the mud so shamefully. Your father was a lying, cheating, arrogant son of a bitch, who’d never amounted to anything good in his life. Even in his line of work, he sought after making people as miserable as he was, and it spread throughout his day to day life. He had no right to be virtually the worst person you’d ever met, and speak with such sludge about that wonderful boy.

“Eddie is not trailer trash,” you spoke firmly, though your tone wavered on account of the lump in your throat.

“He’s not good company, you don’t want to end up like him.”

“As opposed to ending up like you?” It was said with spite, because you held so much spite right now, it was overflowing through the tears on your cheeks. You stood up again, and he had no reason to keep you here any longer, so you once more tried to gather your things, booking it towards the doorway.

“Don’t come crying to me if he gets you pregnant and leaves. I won’t be taking in a slut,” he finished off.

That was it. You would be damned if you let him say something like that about not only Eddie, but about you.

“He would never hurt me like that, and if anything ever happened, he would never leave me, he’s not like you,” you narrowed your gaze at him, ready to dig the final knife in, though it probably wouldn’t hurt like you want it to. “You’re not half the man Eddie is, and you never will be.”

“That boy could be the reason you stay down in life.”

Nope, no more, he doesn’t get the last word in… not today.

“That boy would do anything for me, I wouldn’t trade that loyalty for the world… you should take notes.”

You turned heel and left the room, getting down the hall and pushing the doors to the exit open. There were very few cars left in the lot, but the trusty van you adored so much was no where to be found. You wondered why he wasn’t there, then looked over to where you parked your bike this morning. You had an art class earlier than usual that day, so you didn’t bother to make him drive you, he needed the extra sleep. There was a note on the handle-bars, and you picked it up fast to make sure everything was okay.

Uncle Wayne’s car broke down… had to take him to work :( - Eddie

You sighed out, glad that there hadn’t been a crucial emergency. You didn’t mind not being driven, actually, because you had no intention of going back to the trailer right now. You needed to be alone. The tears hadn’t stopped since you left the building, and they would continue all the way home. Even through the trees that lead up to your house in the woods. It was a quaint home, one story with two bedrooms and a small kitchen and dining room that connected to the living room. It was also an older house, built long before you were born, but perfectly matched to you and your mother, who were happy to live there since your dad ran out.

You dropped your bike in the gravel leading up to the concrete of your front porch, unlocking the door before pushing your way inside as fast as you could. You didn’t know what else to do, or how else to feel right now. Everything kept hurting, and as you’d learned recently, there was a rather easy and efficient way to make the pain subside for a while. A way to feel something else other than the hurt in your heart. Physical pain was easier, it was a good distraction.

You pulled off your sweater, tossing it into the abyss of your laundry tower, and grabbed your switch-blade from off the dresser it stayed on for cases like this. You slammed through doors until you found your bathroom, sinking down on the tile floor as your sobs began to completely rack your body with pain. It was achy, and it was deep, but you started quickly on the solution.

The sting of the knife being pulled across your arm was sharp, and the blood it drew was such a bold color, the smear of it thick on your arm when you raised the knife up again to make another slice. This was far from healthy, and you knew it, but there were few other options you had. You wouldn’t dare tell Eddie about this, or what drove you to commit to such acts. He was like a ray of sunshine in the darkest places, and he didn’t deserve to be brought down by this, not by you. You could deal with it on your own, and you were. This was the solution. It was messy, it was wrong, but it helped. Who were you to deem unnecessary something was was helping you deal with the pain?

You sat there, thinking you were done with hacking yourself to bits for now, but then the words of your father began to cirlce once more, repeating in your head on a loop.

‘I won’t be taking in a slut.’

Is that what he thought of you? Your own father, who had been there until you were ten years old, now speaking of you as if you were some common whore roaming the streets, looking for a bad time. The man who once stood in the woods behind your cabin and taught you how to throw and catch a baseball with your little purple glove made of cheap plastic. He was so obviously ashamed of you, now… and why? The things he said about Eddie were because he didn’t know him, and to be fair, most people didn’t… but he knew you, or at least he did. Had he no respect for you at all? That he would simply call you names that burned your heart like a branding stick.

Your hands were shaking as you brought the blade back to your skin, making an uneven and jagged line right above the one that was still bleeding. It was deeper than the others, and you regretted making it that way, as it would be harder to cover up when it healed. This wasn’t the first time you’d been in this position. There had been a few other occasions when you’d be so low you resorted to the only thing you could think of. You knew just by looking at this cut that it was going to cause you more problems later.

You were so focused on your task of hurting your own body, you couldn’t even fathom the idea that someone had entered your home, and was now standing in the open doorway of your bathroom with a terrified and concerned expression worn on his face.

“What are you-?” He cut himself off, lowering to the ground as you finally realized he was here. You didn’t have any way to explain yourself, you figured he knew immediately what you had done, and that there wasn’t any way you could hide it now.

He took the knife from your hand, tossing it aside before looking at the damage. He’d seen your blood on numerous occasions, without willingly wanting to. He’d never seen so much of it before, and it scared the living shit out of him. Even more so when he thought about the fact that you did this to yourself.

You were still crying, shaking like a leaf about to fall from a tree. He didn’t know what to do. Obviously you were still bleeding and it seemed pretty serious of a wound, but you were also sitting here in shambles on your bathroom floor and just needed comfort, in any shape or form possible. He pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around your body and enclosing you in his gate of protection. His mind run rampant and he had no idea why he didn’t notice this before. He’d seen some small cuts on your arms at prior times, but given your rambunctious and clumsy nature, mixed with all the forresty edges of your home, he didn’t think much of it. You’d always been so happy when you were with him, he didn’t have a clue.

“I’m here,” he soothed, raking his fingers over the back of your head while you continued to cry into his neck. He wanted to take care of you, at any cost, but he first wondered what had driven you to this in the first place. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed out, gripping tightly to his body to keep yourself somewhat grounded. You were falling apart. You hate that he caught you, you didn’t ever want him to know. You didn’t want to burden him more than you already did. He did so much for you, it was hardly fair that you push this on him on top of everything else.

“Don’t be sorry,” he didn’t know what caused this, but he did know it was most likely not your fault. You wouldn’t just do this, he knew you had thick skin. If you’d been driven to do this not only once, but on several occasions, there had to be an instigating force, and he’d bet a million dollars on that force being your father. “It’s okay… you’re okay.”

The blood from your arms was most likely caked onto your shirt now, and maybe his jacket, too. He wouldn’t be bothered by it, but you were getting to be overly conscious about everything now, and it was getting worse the longer you let your mind think.

Your cries had begun to subside, and he pulled you back at arms length to make you look him in the eye. You were never scared to look at Eddie’s eyes, they brought your comfort, made you feel safe.

“Hey, look at me,” he held the side of your face in his hand, feeling the sticky wetness of your tears under his palm. “What happened?”

You ducked your head in spite of his hands trying to keep your face visible to him. You felt powerless to tell him the truth, the only human being in this world you would trust with it. It was so heavy, it was already spread out for him to see, but the details…

The devil was indeed in the details, and you wanted so badly to keep him locked away along with them.

“Hey- don’t do that, I know you don’t wanna talk about it,” he wasn’t angry, and his tone never shone he was even agitated, but his concern was still very evident, and his hands had started to shake just like yours had. “But I gotta know what happened… Shit-“

He was trying his best to focus on your face, to keep eye contact and coax out of you the reasoning for this mess. He wanted to take care of whatever it was that made you hurt enough to do this to yourself… but your bloody arm was distracting, as more of the deep red sludge continued to leak from your skin. He reached down under your elbow and pulled your arm into his lap, turning it over and realizing the last cut you made as he came in was wrapped in a circe all around your forearm, almost connecting in a perfect line. You winced at where he tried to hold it and he cursed himself, slowly lowering it back to your side and standing up.

“Don’t move,” He told you, running out of the room and into the kitchen, reaching to the cabinet under the sink, where the first aid and emergency supplies were. He wondered if your mom would notice a bunch of stuff missing from it, but then figured you’ve probably had to raid it before. He took the red box, along with some alcohol and paper towels that were on the counter. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but he’d seen enough movies to know they always cleaned wounds before dressing them.

He came back in to find you in the exact same position, not knowing if you’d even taken a breath since he left. You looked so still, your face pale and expression worn emotionless upon it. It scared him shitless… you looked dead. This wasn’t okay, you weren’t okay, as much as he wanted to believe it, reassuring both himself and you only a few minutes ago. You were in so much pain, now made emotional and physical. He’d figure it out later, he wouldn’t sleep until he did, but there were more pressing and bloody matters to tend to at the moment.

“C’mere,” he knelt down half way, helping you to stand up, though you were still perfectly capable of doing that yourself. He patted the counter top, and you attempted to push yourself onto it, but you quickly stopped, as the pressure on your arm caused more red to gush from the slits. “I got you.”

He gave you a boost, finally sitting you on the edge by the sink. He didn’t want to run your arm under the running water, scared his stomach might turn at the sight when it washed down the drain. He hated this. Everything about this was not his ideal afternoon, and he wished it never happened, but he’d be damned if he let you do this alone.

He gently took the bleeding arm in his hand, careful not to touch the harsh cuts. His other hand reached for the cleaning alcohol, unscrewing the top lid with his mouth before pouring a bit over the largest open area. You hadn’t been paying attention to what he was doing before, staring off into space, but as soon as the liquid hit your skin, it burned like hell, and you hissed with a slight jump. You hand squeezed his shoulder, fingers digging into the leather he wore and probably creating tiny indents with the amount of pressure you used.

“I’m sorry, should’ve warned you…”

He continued to cover the other few open places, careful to make sure you saw him before doing it again. It wasn’t as bad the second time, or the third time, or the times after that. The sting became like another distraction, and you were able to concentrate on some coherent thoughts that weren’t negative, if only for a few moments. You let your mind wander this very situation, how even after learning about probably the darkest part of you, your best friend didn’t run and hide, or cower in fear of your immense troubles. He stayed to help fix them, and wanted to know what caused them in the first place. Your father caused you to cut, but it was because of Eddie that you were being healed.

You came back into reality when he started dabbing dry all the places he cleaned. It was strangely soothing, the gentle motions in which he used to avoid hurting you even in the slightest way.

There weren’t a lot of heavy duty bandages in the first aid kit, which was surprising since it had virtually everything else, even nylon and a needle for stitches. He thanked his lucky stars that you didn’t need stitches. He didn’t think he could sit and take the sight or the feeling of poking holes in your skin repeatedly and on purpose. He hated even seeing your skin so torn up like this.

He was glad that the bleeding had pretty much stopped by now, but still needed to cover the lacerations so that they couldn’t be irritated by any outside forces. He did his best to patchwork on some bandaids of different sizes, though it was hard since you kept fidgeting through this part. Once done, he shoved everything back into the red box as neatly as he deemed necessary before shutting it and putting it aside.

This was going to be the hard part, and you knew it. He was going to have questions, probably some of the same ones from earlier, because you never gave any answers, just apologies. He had a right to know. He paid for that right by sticking by you without hesitation even after seeing the horrors of your self inflictions.

“You don’t need to tell me why,” his voice was shallow, like he was staving off the thickness of it in fears it would crack in the back of his throat as he spoke. His hands found the edge of the sink beside you, and he looked at your profile with the utmost concern still lacing his expression. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll wait.”

You nodded, thankful that he was not only so willing to help you, but so understanding of your need for silence. You could tell him, just not right now, while it was so fresh. It would be better to wait until it didn’t still hurt so much, until the memory of it barely struck your brain.

“Can you promise me something, though?”

Again his voice seemed uneven, hardly heard but in your ear that was closest to him.

You looked at him, already sure you knew was he was proposing. You didn’t want to promise him anything, because you knew you’d break it if said promise was anything close to your prediction.

“Promise me you won’t do this again,” he said it like he was telling you, not asking. He wanted your word on it, but you struggled to give it to him. You still had demons, and you would still need a way to deal with them… this had been working for you, why quit now? Of course, it hurt him. If you learned he’d even bled a single drop by his own hand you’d go ballistic and worry over him every hour of every day. Seeing you do what you did must have struck a nerve within him, you didn’t blame him for wanting to put it to an end.

You looked away from him without an answer, staying quiet again and making him become nervous. Were you in so deep that you felt it was going to happen again? And again after?

“Look, I know there’s reasons, I understand that.” He started to sound mildly perturbed now, like his nerves had come to a head now, and he didn’t care if his voice broke or the lump in his throat made tears to arise. He just needed his point across. “What if you accidentally cut too deep one day, huh? What if no one’s around?” And just like before, tears were falling, down your face and his. He wanted to tell you this without making you bawl again, but that would have only worked if you didn’t care so much about what he had to say. “If anything happened to you I would lose my shit, okay? I can take a lot of hard stuff, but that would get me.”

He’s lost so much in his life. His mother walked out when he was a kid, leaving him nothing but a ring and a name to remember her by. He doesn’t even recall ever feeling her arms around him in a hug in his younger years. He was just a kid, and he didn’t understand… he thought it was his fault, and he’s carried that with him all his life. His father, who abused him from the time he was able to walk, was now in prison… a horrible man with always bad intentions that never intended on having a kid, but got stuck with one anyway. Eddie thought that perhaps his old man found prison to be an escape, a way out of fatherhood. Uncle Wayne, the kind hearted man who’d never approved of the way his brother treated his nephew. He took Eddie under his wing and made him his son in every aspect, but even still with being the best parental figure the boy had ever known, he was never able to be with him in the sense that a guardian should be. He was often times alone in that trailer while Wayne worked near all hours of the night and into the day.

Eddie had it significantly worse off than you, but he still managed to stay afloat, and thrive despite everything….

“I can’t even think about losing you, I would-“ he stopped himself short. He thought he probably sounded selfish right now. To stop you from doing this for his sake, because he would be upset about it. He couldn’t help it, he wanted to be selfish, he needed to be…

“I promise,” you whispered, your tears beginning to halt, though the ones before left tracks on your cheeks. His eyes shot to yours, making sure you were telling the truth. You couldn’t lie to him when he was looking at your eyes, you’d always get nervous of look away. “I’ll stop… but I might need help.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d started holding, taking a step around your knee and wrapping his arms around you, very delicately to ensure your arm was untouched. It felt safe, and secure. He was the safest haven you could ever go to, and you didn’t even know if he knew that.

“Whatever you need, sweetheart.”

He'd held you against him, crying over his words that he needed you to wake up, that he needed you to be okay. He watched your face grow paler by the minute, and in all aspects, he didn't think you were going to make it. He was out of his wits, completely devastated by what he'd done to you. Back in the days when you were hurting yourself, he felt like he could lose you any day, because he'd have no control over the situation... but here and now, after being the one to inflict you so badly and doing it to satisfy himself? He really believed that he was a monster. He had completely become one of the horrific creatures from one of his DnD campaigns and committed an act of which he would reason with as being punishable by death. He hoped that a slew of heroes would show up, and condemn him for his actions, that he would be sentenced to hell for hurting you this way.

"Stay with me, don't go," he pleaded, looking over your face and feeling you start to become colder, even though he was already freezing, himself.

He was sure he'd never cried this much before, not when his mother left him, not when his father would beat him, not when he was framed for murder, and not even when he knew he was about to die.

"Eddie?" The cracked voice behind him he knew all too well, and like he'd hoped... the hero came, and could save the princess... but he knew this hero would not kill the villain. "How are you-?"

"Henderson you gotta help her," he cut off Dustin's estranged voice, the boy's shocked expression was wiped the second he saw your... condition. He was flabbergasted that his friend was alive, but maybe he should save that feeling, because you looked like you were about to not be alive. He was stuck to his place for a few seconds before everything kicked in. It was all too much too fast, and he didn't know what to take in first. Eddie was crying, still, tears affecting his speech and driving him slowly to insanity. His mouth was covered in blood that matched the pools on your neck and on your pillow, and the look in his eyes was purely anguished. "I hurt her, I couldn't stop, and I hurt her."

Dustin didn't believe it. Eddie couldn't hurt a fly, but what he saw before him couldn't have just happened by accident. Dustin ran over and dropped to his knees, assessing your current state and deeming you salvageable. "She's still breathing," the younger boy said as he continued to examine the areas covered in blood. It didn't take long for Dustin to figure it out. He started applying pressure to the wound, but before, he saw the two puncture marks strategically placed on your neck. He bit you?

"Eddie, what the hell happened?" It was halfway a rhetorical question, said out loud only for himself to try and figure out the answer of his own accord. "I need you to help me hold her so I can-"

"No," Eddie was fast to reject his proposal for help before it even came out fully formed and in a finished sentence. He had no plans of coming any closer than he was, huddled into the corner by the still open window. "Don't let me touch her, you have to keep her away from me."

Dustin was sure that whatever Eddie did that ended in this result, he wasn't in his right mind while doing it. Clearly, he was driven by other forces, unknown and dark. Perhaps he was being controlled by whatever brought him back from the dead. When he left him, there was no possible way he could have survived, especially on his own. Hell, Eddie died in his arms…

"I know you're scared, but you gotta try and..." he trailed off halfway, turning over his shoulder and trying to make eye contact with his friend to try and convince him he could do it, but he wasn't there anymore. He saw your curtains still flowing from the distress they'd been thrown around in as Eddie made his exit. "Shit shit shit shit."

He reached over for his walkie, trying his best with one hand to still hold the wound under his hand while reaching someone else who could help him.

Eddie was alive, but he wasn't all Eddie... he was something else, too.

Dustin got ahold of Steve eventually, who helped him call an ambulance, but though you were right here in front of him, his mind was still on Eddie, the boy who survived... but not entirely.

#eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #vampire eddie munson #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson x original character

[byima]

December prompts day 2

"You shouldn't have."

Dec 2nd, 2020

“You shouldn’t have.”

“It’s too late,” Iris said. Iris smiled at the blonde in her screen. “Think of it as an early Christmas gift.”

Annabeth, the young and brilliant woman who had walked into the firm years ago with a point to prove (and has since proven it, many times over) sighed in defeat.

“I’ll have to return the favor.”

“And I’ll say ‘thank you’ like a good gift recipient.”

The younger woman’s head dipped for a moment before she looked back into the webcam. Iris remembered how long it took the architect on her screen to let her make a cup of coffee for her, how more than a year had passed before she even had a conversation with Annabeth that wasn’t work related. The way Annabeth had walked in on a Wednesday with a wedding ring, no vacation days to follow, no pictures to pass from fawning hand to fawning hand, only to mention in passing a few months later how she and the dark haired man she'd brought to the Christmas gala had married in the courthouse next to the library they were remodeling. This conversation, and the alteration of her work email (annabethchase to annabethjackson) had be the only indictors at the time of Annabeth's change in relationship status.

She’d like to think of herself as a friend to the younger woman, it was just her and Ed, the civil engineering consultant, who had somehow inched their way up from coworker to something more, who had wormed their way ever slightly into the mysterious life of Annabeth Jackson.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m good. Really good. I’m so happy to be home right now without having to worry about going in or…” Annabeth looked at something off camera. “Or explaining anything.”

“Timing is everything,” Iris said, watching Annabeth’s expression morph into something bright, almost playful. She looked utterly her age. And plainly focused on something else, not their work call.

“Yeah…” Annabeth was visibly attempting to tamp down a smile, top teeth biting into her lower lip, but it was to no avail. Even when those gray eyes darted back to the screen, one shoulder shook with barely contained laughter.

Iris smiled knowingly. “Okay.” She dropped both hands on her thighs with finality. “Where’s that handsome husband of yours?”

Annabeth’s eyes landed on something off screen again.

“He’s right here. Being a nuisance.” She tilted almost out of frame. “Percy?”

A moment later, man in a gray crew neck entered the picture.

Iris smiled wider. “Hello there, mister.” He had something in his left hand, which he kept tucked behind his leg.

He gave her a boyish wave with the other hand. “Hi. Thank you for the gift basket. And the letter.” He rubbed the back of his neck as his mouth turned up in a self deprecating grin. “Both of us cried like babies reading your message.”

“Good.” She leaned closer to the screen so he was sure to see her sternly raised eyebrow. “Are you taking good care of her?”

“I hope so.” His chin dipped so he could look at his wife. “What do you think?”

Annabeth, whose eyes hadn’t left him since he’d come to her side, nodded then answered, “He’s doing alright. I think he could be more generous with the foot massages.”

Iris laughed at the surprise that dropped the man’s mouth wide open. 

“You’re just tryna make me look bad in front of your coworkers.” He moved a loose strand of Annabeth’s hair off of her neck.

“Iris is my friend and she deserves the truth.”

She couldn’t help the zing of pleasure she felt hearing that. Saving it for later use (to gloat to Ed), she cleared her throat. “I don’t want to be the cause of any problems.” Both of them started to dismiss her concerns but she waved them off. “I’m due to meet with Evan in a minute so I’ve got to disconnect. Anyway, I know there’s all these new contraptions for newborns, but sometimes the old stuff is the good stuff, and they’ve got some sweet memories and lots of love in them, too.”

“It means a lot, Iris. Really.” This was from Annabeth, whose hand was now resting on the rise of her stomach. Iris lingered on the sight for a moment. The Annabeth she knew, the architect, her coworker, her friend, was sharp: a visionary, purposeful and stubborn and decisive. Iris was curious, excited as well, but mostly curious to see her in this new role. Mother. 

“Alright.” She let the thought go. “Percy, it’s good to see you, take care of yourself out there.” 

“Always.”

“I’ll see you both.” She gave them a two handed wave through the screen. Both of them waved back. Then–

–Annabeth Jackson has left the call.

#december prompts challenge #i have fallen behind #thats okay though #mypjofic #percy jackson #percabeth #percy and annabeth #percy jackon and the olympians

[weirdkpopgirl]

Insecurities | Dream Reaction #2 (maknae-line)

Reaction: When their gf is insecure about their body (maknae-line)

Genre: Angst, slight fluff

Warnings: Mentions of low self-esteem, mental health subjects

Word Count: 2,193

Requested: Yes

Author’s Note: Here is the second part of this request. I’m sorry for it coming out this late. It’s almost the end of the school year for me, so lately I’ve been having a lot of work to do. I’m currently in the process of working on my other requests, but I don’t think anything will be out anytime soon. I apologize in advance for this, and will hopefully get back on track once all this chaos is over. Thank you for reading ^-^

                                                                                  *CC - Campus Couple

~ ~ ~

JAEMIN

At first, Jaemin had no idea that you were insecure about yourself until he found out on his own. But even so, he only started to pick up on things half a year into your relationship. He didn’t get much time to spend with you due to his job. But when he was with you, he started to notice that you rarely ate. Sometimes you’d bring him food you made, but he never saw you eat anything. 

Other times you just said you weren’t hungry. If you were on a call or text and he’d ask if you ate anything, you never gave a direct answer and tried to change the subject. He would begin to worry if you were regularly skipping meals or worse, starving yourself. 

Then he started to pick up on how you never accepted any of his compliments. “No, I’m not pretty.” “You’re just saying that to be nice.” “You don’t have to lie, Jaemin.”  Then he remembered how tense you got when he tried to take a picture of you or someone else.

Jaemin would be so troubled by this. One day all of his realizations would pile up and he didn’t know what to do. He might go to Jeno to voice out his concerns because he was so stressed. He just couldn’t fathom how you didn’t like yourself.

Eventually, Jaemin concluded that he had to talk to you about this problem, and he was determined to help you. He would wait to find the right time and sit you down somewhere private.

“(Y/n)-ah, we need to talk,” he’d say.

Immediately you would be alarmed by his tone. “Did I…Did I do something?” 

He shook his arm and placed a hand on your arm, “No it’s not like that.”

Then he would tell you about what he had noticed recently and his concerns for your health. You felt so exposed when he finished. You almost didn’t know what to say.

Fidgeting with the ends of your sleeves you’d not-so-convincingly softly say, “I’m…I’m fine Jaemin. You don’t need to worry about me.”

 “Are you really fine though?” He hoped that you didn't feel pressured to talk. But he wanted you to be honest with him about your feelings.

There would be a small pause. You’d meet Jaemin’s eyes and look at him for a second before letting out a shaky breath. “No, I’m not.”

Jaemin would put his hand over yours as tears started to form in your eyes. What you said next nearly broke him into pieces. “Sometimes I just get afraid that I’ll never be good enough for you.”

Ever since you were young you were self-conscious. Dating Jaemin was one of the best decisions you made, but it also caused your insecurities to rise. Just look at the man, he was so attractive and there were so many female idols that looked so much prettier than you. Despite Jaemin telling you numerous times that he only had eyes for you, that couldn’t stop the thoughts in your head.

As the facade you had been holding up broke, Jaemin took you into his arms and let you cry. He’d gently pat your head and press a few kisses onto your hair. He felt so bad that you had been struggling alone and he hadn’t noticed until now. The two of you would spend the rest of the day together, talking out things. It was a serious moment in your relationship that both of you needed to go through. 

Since then, Jaemin would be more attentive and be there as encouragement if you ever doubted yourself. He made sure to reassure you every once in a while that you were the only one for him and he could never look at any other girl the same way.

✎____________________________________________________________

CHENLE

The young singer felt oddly giddy today. He had been so caught up with promotions for the new album. Other than texting and calling on occasion, Chenle hadn’t been able to see you face to face in weeks. He found himself missing your warm presence more than he cared to admit. But now he was given a small break before going back to work, the boy practically skipped over to your apartment.

Right away he began to feel recharged when you opened the door to him. Despite all the elated emotions rushing through, he held back.

“Hey there, cutie,” He’d say nonchalantly. Rolling your eyes at his attitude, you’d lightly pull your boyfriend inside.

“Hello to you too.” You said quietly, grateful that you didn’t stutter. 

To be honest, you were a bit nervous about Chenle coming today. Not because you didn’t want to see your boyfriend, you had missed him just as much as he did. While he was gone, you let your insecurities overtake you and had fallen back into bad habits. But with hope, you didn’t think he would notice anything.

Quickly after taking his shoes off, the boy took you in his arms for a hug. This was the most he could do when he was restraining himself. He gently squeezed his arms around your waist as you laughed shyly before hugging back. To your dismay, Chenle noticed something was off only a few seconds into the embrace.

He’d slightly pull away but have his arms on your shoulders. Looking you up and down, Chenle tried to pinpoint what was different. 

“Did you lose weight?”

Several mental curses went off in your head. You removed his hands away from you and stepped back. “Hm? No, I didn’t.”

Obviously not convinced, your boyfriend asked more questions. “Have you been eating properly? Did you forget to take care of yourself while I was away?”

Chenle frowned when you responded with silence. “Did you eat… anything today?”

“No,” You nearly whispered. You couldn’t look him in the eyes.

Expecting to be criticized, you felt Chenle take your hand and bring you to the kitchen. He sat you down at one of the counter seats and started to look around for something he could cook. Of course, there was barely anything in your fridge. But he found some ramen packs in your pantry. That would have to do for now.

As he cooked, he would scold you. “I don’t understand why you’d do this to yourself.”

“Sometimes…sometimes I just let the dark thoughts get the best of me,” You tried to explain, speaking softly. 

“But (Y/n), you didn’t need to lose any weight in the first place,” Chenle paused before checking the noodles. 

He’d begun to feel slight guilt when he heard the growing apprehension in your tone. “I know it’s not good and I know that I’m only making myself look stupid. But…but I can’t help it.”

“You should come to me- or at least someone if you feel like this.” He walked over to place the ramen pot in front of you and put the chopsticks in your hand.

You brought yourself to meet his disheartened expression. “Don’t…don’t starve yourself.”

Chenle wouldn’t let you go unless you ate what he made, it didn’t have to be a lot. You hadn’t expected him to take this so seriously. Though he may not be very experienced with situations like this, he tried his best to be mature and not make you feel any worse. You had to remember to thank him later.

✎____________________________________________________________

JISUNG

Even before you started dating, Jisung would hear you talk badly about yourself and use self-deprecating jokes. He thought about it a lot, and he still couldn’t understand why you degraded yourself so much. In his eyes, you were perfect. He was truly concerned about your self-esteem. But he didn’t exactly know how to handle the situation or if he should at all. So he would just hold everything in until he couldn’t anymore.

There was this one time when you were hanging out together with college friends. You didn’t really want to go but Jisung was going, and you were afraid the girls would try to take advantage of him when you weren’t there. You and Jisung had only been together for about a month, and there were already so many people gossiping about your relationship. 

Your stomach was already beginning to hurt when the two of you entered the restaurant. The environment immediately became different when you and Jisung sat down toward the end of the table. But you had no reason to believe anything bad was going to happen. You were probably just overthinking, you thought to yourself.

As the time grew longer, you began to feel more anxious. Jisung could tell, but he didn’t say anything. But he made sure to squeeze your hand now and then. You were so out of it that you almost didn’t notice when one of the girls called your name.

“I still can’t believe you guys are the first official CC*!” She was smiling but you could sense the criticism in her tone. 

The girl’s friend next to her added, “Yeah. Who knew that of all people Park Jisung would choose you.”

“You should tell us Jisung-ah, what made you like (Y/n) so much,” One of the seniors leaned closer at the table. “Usually guys like us go for pretty girls. But I guess you like the smart ones.”

Slowly you felt yourself shrinking in your chair. It was like a slap to the face to hear them outright question Jisung’s type in girls because you didn’t meet their expectations. You already knew that you didn’t stand out with looks like other girls, and you degraded yourself about it every day. But hearing someone else call you out like that made you feel so much worse.

While you remained silent, Jisung started to clench his fists under the table. “What do you mean?”

The senior snickered, “You don’t have to pretend to not know, Jisung-ah. We all know our (Y/n) excels in her studies. Maybe if she had a nicer figure, we’d understand you better.”

You never felt so humiliated in your life, and you didn’t even dare to stand up for yourself. All you could do was sit and let them say things about you. Jisung subtly glanced over toward you. When he saw the tears in your eyes, he just saw red. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He couldn’t even think rationally and just got up from his seat. “How dare you talk about (Y/n) like that?”

“What did you just say?” The senior scoffed, slightly taken aback by Jisung’s sudden outburst.

But for once, Jisung didn’t care about getting into trouble. He was furious at them for having the audacity to say such rude things in front of you both.

“(Y/n) is the most beautiful girl I’ve seen. But that doesn’t matter,” He scowled and looked at the other people at the table who were watching in shock. “She has a kind personality, unlike the rest of you with trashy ones.”

The senior stood up too, “Yah, do you want to die? It’s not our fault you chose to date a trashy girl.”

Jisung grabbed the senior by his collar and was ready to throw a punch when you got up to stop him. Gently but firmly you placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Jisung, stop! It’s not worth it.”

The second Jisung heard your wavering voice and saw your watery eyes, he was quickly softened. A small sigh left his mouth as he brought his arm down. 

Shooting one more glare at your senior, he would take your hand and mutter, “Let’s go.”

The first few minutes after you got outside were quiet until you broke the silence.

“Thank you for what you did back there,” You said, “But you didn’t need to do that. I don’t want you getting into trouble because of me.”

Jisung shook his head, “I meant it when I said you’re the most beautiful girl (Y/n)-ah.” 

“You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not,” He’d say more firmly. The two of you would stop walking and face each other. “Have you looked in the mirror properly? Every day I wonder how someone as pretty as you could have interest in me.”

Then he would hug you, your nose gently pressed against his hoodie as you weren’t tall enough to reach his shoulder. “But even if you didn’t look the way you do, it wouldn’t matter. I like you for who you are.”

Gradually your arms would raise up to wrap around Jisung’s waist so you could hug him back. After staying in that position, the two of you would continue walking back home. Jisung would hold you tight, feeling extra protective now. 

It was a new side to Jisung that you had never seen before until now. You hadn’t realized how mature he was. You weren’t aware he had such thoughts about you. It seemed like he had been wanting to say those things for a long time now. But seeing him be so passionate about this, brought a lot of reassurance to you.

✎____________________________________________________________

hyung-line

#nct dream #nct dream reactions #nct #na jaemin #jaemin #zhong chenle #chenle #park jisung #jisung #nana #kpop #nctzen #czennie

[scribble-dribble-writes]

The boy next door

---

Pairing: Obi wan x reader

Content: Obi wan boy next door au

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1900

---

This picture by @vulpesarctica led me to dream about this whole scenario. I know in my bones that he would be an amazing boy next door 😩

---

He hadn’t seen you in a while. Which in itself was odd. You would lounge in your garden in the evenings engrossed in a book or sip tea out in the balcony in the evenings. You would call on him often but lately, the lights in your house didn’t turn on usually when they would. He began to worry. He grabbed his keys and packed a box of pasta he had made for lunch. He needed to know you were fine.

Walking down the cobblestone pavement, he was transported to his favourite memory, your date had not showed up to take you to prom and he stood in the driveway dressed in a tux. Nervous, because it was the first time he had been bold enough to speak to you and the words he uttered were that he could be your date. You accepted and he remembered the feeling of awe when he saw you walk down this very same cobblestone pavement in a shimmering blue gown. That was years ago, now you were adults living your own life and yet he could not seem to let you go. He carried you in his heart, stood by the sidelines and watched as you got yours broken. He felt the pain like it was his own.

The old wooden door greeted him as he knocked softly. The autumn cold bore into his bones as he stood in your porch, his feet tapping away in an anxious urgency. He raised his fist to knock again when he heard a shuffle behind the door. The locks slowly twisting open and the door opened, enough for him to see part of your face and he was a teenager again. “Obi wan?”, your voice was coarse. You were sick, he thought. “Are you alright?”, he asked and the door opened further. You wore a brown bathrobe over your pajamas holding it tight under your elbows. You weren’t sick, at least by the looks of it. He searched your eyes, his incorrigible habit, to always read your mind. You were tired, the bags under your eyes gave you away. He held the pasta box out to you. “I made an extra batch and thought you might like some.”, he didn’t want to intrude but he looked behind you to see the house engulfed in darkness.

You blocked his line of sight. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”, you tell him but you didn’t have to energy to make polite conversation. He needed to leave. He needed to push past his hesitance, he wasn’t a boy anymore. “Why don’t I heat this up for you?”, he asks and enters your threshold. You felt confused, but you were exhausted from having to balance work and life that you couldn’t bother to stop him. He wasn’t one to talk excessively, so you hoped he might leave once he was comfortable knowing you were fine.

He always knew when you needed comfort and showed up at your doorstep. Today you needed comfort, so you watched as he made himself comfortable in your kitchen. Opening cabinets and pulling out plates, turning on the lights and starting a fire in the fireplace. You settled yourself on the stool near the kitchen island. “Are you really alright?”, he asks again, his back facing you but the concern in his voice was tangible. “Yes and no.”, you yawn. “Things have been busy with work.”, you tell him half the problem. He hums but turns to see you, his blues eyes staring straight into your soul as though he could sense your hidden secrets. “Is that all?”, he asks his brows furrowed. You sigh. There was no point in hiding things from him. “No.”, you say and look away.

The microwave hums in the background and he waits for you to continue. “Harris decided that he wanted something different. Well no, he wanted someone else entirely. He said he had run out of love for me.”, you say the words that have been puncturing your heart the last few days and the microwave beeps. You look at him and see the intensity it mirrored. One of worry and anger. “He said what?”, his voice had an edge to it. “It doesn’t matter.”, you wave your hand, he divides the pasta into two plates and places one in front of you as he takes up his spot in the seat next to you, the edge of his knee touching yours. “It matters to me. He doesn’t deserve you.”, he takes his fork with a storm in his eyes. “Apparently no one does. In the end it’s quite clear that I’m just not enough.”, you huff and prod at the pieces on your plate. He chews slowly and looks at you, his mind exploding with words he wanted to say.

You’re perfect as you are

A thought ran across his mind and instead of saying it to you, he swallowed and looked away. “Or maybe I was annoying and he was being polite.”, he hears you mumble and instinctively knew this was what you had been up to. Overanalyzing everything and tearing yourself down. “No.”, he says softly. “No, what?”, you interject. “You’re not annoying.”, he pokes a cheesy meatball as he turns to look at you. The edge of your mouth turns up and he felt satisfied.

“Even when I’m annoying you about a TV show or drag you out to the theaters?”, you ask him and he focuses on his plate. “I like it when you spend time with me.”, he says without thinking and then realizes it would have been better if he had just stayed at home. “Then you’re the first.”, he hears you laugh and he wanted to stay here forever. He never spent his time waiting for his turn to be your boyfriend. No, it was a simple pleasure, to see you happy, even if it meant that wasn’t with him. But sitting here in this moment, he wished it could be.

The living room had a soft golden glow and he sat there in comfortable silence. You were asleep on the couch, but only a few minutes ago you were chatting away about your deep desire to run away to Scotland. But the clock chimed as if to remind him that this wasn’t his home. He took in a deep breath, he had one last thing to do before he left. Placing his tea cup on the table he approached you. Your body cramped tight in the little couch, you would wake up with a badly sprained neck if he didn’t move you. So he slowly slipped his right hand under your neck and the other under your knees. He raised you up from the couch when you unconsciously nuzzled into his chest. He stilled, like he was holding a sleeping baby but it was worse than that. Every moment he spent here with you, he didn’t want to leave but he would have to, like the day after prom. Everything went back to what it was and the truth was that you and him were never meant to be.

He walked up the stairs holding your sleeping form. Using his back he nudged open your bedroom door, he entered. The window was open, letting in a gust of cold air and crisp moonlight. He placed you on top of your bed and pulled your blanket over you, tucking in the sides so you wouldn’t feel cold . You were still asleep and his job was done. So now he would have to leave, but instead he got down on his knees to get to your eye level. Without disturbing you, he slowly pushed away a strand of your hair to tuck it behind your ear. But his effect only caused the opposite reaction and you began to stir. He froze.

Your eyes fluttered open and he was blown away by how your brown eyes now appeared like pitch black dark moons. He moved away before you could question him. The window needed to be closed, so he got onto that. Pulling the shutter down, the sound of the wind died. The room was engulfed in silence. He could hear his own heart beat, it’s rapid pace making him nervous it would give away his feelings. He’d been making all the wrong decisions from the moment he entered your house. You surrounded him like a perfume he could not erase from his mind.

He noticed you had propped yourself up against the head board. “I didn’t want you to sprain your neck.”, he shrugged his shoulders, turning away towards the mantle so as to escape your gaze. Many little framed photographs were present but his eyes landed on one. Him holding you in your blue gown. You were smiling looking right up at him and his heart could might as well open his chest and run to you. But it was the mere fact that you had it here, to look at it everyday. He turned to you, your dark moon eyes following him. “Good night.”, he can’t stay a second longer. “Obi wan.”, you whisper and he stops. His hand on the doorknob, his forehead resting on the wooden frame. His mind telling him to run, to open that door and walk away but his heart…

He slowly turned to you. You could see it clearly now, with a clarity that you did not possess before. That the man standing in the corner of your room was the one for you, had always been. But after having pushed him away for all these years, you didn’t want to hold out hope. “Can you stay?”, you muster your courage and ask him. There was no answer, so you looked at your twiddling thumbs and waited to hear the sound of the door closing. And it did, the click of the doorknob so faint yet so brutal. What were you thinking? You had caused him enough pain. But the bed sank next to you and you came face to face with eyes that were like the midnight sky.

You slip your hands around his neck, “I’m sorry it took so long.”, you say and feel his hand tighten around you. “We’re here now.”, he responds and you melt into his warmth. He pulls you flush against him, the sound of his heart beat reminding you that this was real. All the pain of the past seemingly erased to make your heart feel new or maybe it was that by giving him all your pieces, he had put it back together. He bent down and kissed your cheek, like he was a teenager who had finally taken his date to the ferris wheel. Everywhere his fingertips traversed, it brought forth spring. Now you were a garden. He kissed under your jaw and then your forehead, finally resting his head on top of yours sighing with content. You held onto him tightly like he was a dream all while wondering how the boy next door was your soulmate all along.

#obi wan kenobi #ewan mcgregor #obi wan my beloved #general kenobi #master kenobi #kenobi series #kenobi tv #obi wan imagine #obi wan x reader #obiwan x fluff #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan star wars #obiwan kenobi #obi wan fic #obi wan x you #obiwanedit

[royal-they]

i completely forgot to post this here. here is some huntlow stuff for you! set in the golden garden au. willow has now met luz but hunter hasnt yet. 

anyway hunters injured and willows upset

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43083801

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

Hunter always was on task. Never once was he late and more often than not he was early. Which is why Willow was anxiously rubbing her fingers across her knuckles. Ever since Willow had met Hunter a few months ago they would meet once every other week near Hexide on the grudgby field. They didn’t get to see each other a lot but when they did they always had fun.

He’s always early, why isn’t he today? What if he doesn’t want to be friends anymore? What if I don’t matter to him anymore?

Willow tried to breathe more consistently, Don’t let yourself spiral Willow, you know better!

But it didn’t help. Willow's head was a storm of intrusive thoughts, What if he got hurt? What if someone in the Coven found out and now he isn’t allowed to see me anymore? What if he’s-

No, no, no. She wasn’t going to let herself think like that. She just would have to extract herself from the situation. Out of sight, out of mind. He was probably fine. Just some mission that was taking a long time.

Besides, she thought, clenching her fists, If he’s not here right now I highly doubt he’s coming today.

Willow sighed, looking back at the grudgby field again before starting to walk back to her house. The sun was setting anyway. They would always go home after the sunset. No reason to stay.

Still, as she left she could feel her whole body ache. Either her anxiety was getting the better of her - again - or something was seriously wrong.

—-------------------------------------

Willow sat on her bed looking out at the balcony. The night was quiet and there weren’t many clouds in the sky, the moon shining down into the room. The beauty of it would normally be calming. But Willow's thoughts refused to let her off the hook.

What if he’s on a really long mission that takes weeks, even months to complete? What if he’s seriously injured? What if he died ?

Willow mindlessly tugged on her curls, tears brewing in her eyes. Her face felt hot with anger. What if he had abandoned her like Amity? Was she really just a weakling? She looked over at the picture taped to her mirror.

Her and her friends are all having fun at Grom. Amity was there. Amity had come back. She looked at Luz.

You’re the strongest witch I know next to Eda.

She took a deep breath, loosening the grip on her curls. She wasn’t weak anymore. Hunter never saw her as weak and he wouldn’t abandon her. Something was definitely wrong-

Suddenly Willow heard someone crash onto her balcony. She jumped up out of bed, hands drawn into a defensive stance as she approached the figure.

“Willow?”

Willow blinked in surprise hurrying over to help the figure up, “Hunter, why are you here now?”

“Belos kept me in the castle but I snuck out and then you weren’t at the grudgby field so I came here.”

“You snuck out,” Willow said worriedly, “What if Belos punishes you?”

“Willow,” Hunter said, waving off her concern, “I sneak out every time we meet, don’t worry about it.”

“You what ?!”

“I sneak out of the castle to see you.” He repeated, shifting awkwardly in his place.

Willow grabbed his gloved hands, holding them close to her, “Hunter, you cannot sneak out of the Emperor's castle just to see me.”

“Why not?” Hunter said stubbornly.

“We both know exactly why Hunter,” she said, crossing her arms.

He pushed the mask of the Golden Guard up to reveal his face, his eyes pleading, “Willow please I enjoy seeing you, don’t send me back.”

Willow squinted, noticing a huge slash across his side profile. That hadn’t been there before. The blood on it looked fresh and the cut looked deep. She gasped.

“Hunter what the hell happened to your face?”

“Oh yeah that…” he said, rubbing his arm letting out a hollow laugh.

“Who did that to you?” her eyes looked as though green lightning had struck through them.

Hunter shivered as he tried to shrug off the question, “It’s not important, don’t worry about it.”

Willow stepped forward, their faces barely inches away from each other, “You,” she said pointing at him while he blushed, “Are not the Golden Guard when it comes to me, so don’t try to tell me what to do.”

“I know, I know, sorry.”

“Come, I’ve got some bandages from Luz,” she said, going back to her room sorting through her desk drawers, “I don’t know healing magic, sorry.”

Hunter sighed, “I really wish you wouldn’t talk to Luz and the Owl Lady, you might get into trouble.”

“Well I wish you wouldn’t sneak out and put yourself in harm's way just to see me,” Willow said simply, pulling out the antibacterial, “but it seems neither of us get what we want.”

Hunter shut his mouth quickly. She smirked at his reaction before walking over to him, “I need to clean out your wound but it’s going to hurt.”

Hunter shrugged, “I doubt it will hurt as much as this cut does.”

She frowned as she brought the gauze up to his face, “How did you get it anyway?”

He flinched, from the sting of the antibacterial or her words she couldn’t tell.

“Sorry,” she apologized, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, no it’s okay,” he assured her, “It’s just-”

His breathing became quick and inconsistent as he tried to hold back his tears. Willow pulled the gauze away from his face. She gently took his hands, holding them in her own.

“Hey,” she whispered, trying not to scare him, “try to breathe more steadily.”

He nodded, watching their hands as he started to breathe more slowly. He closed his eyes before opening them again, taking a deep breath as he looked down at Willow.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you can cry if you need to.” she assured him, squeezing his hand.

He nodded and she returned to disinfecting the cut. He flinched a little when she got to the deeper part of the cut.

“Sorry, but I need to make sure this won’t get infected.”

“It’s okay,” Hunter said quickly, trying to assure her that all was well, “Better than anything Belos would have done.”

Willow flinched this time, her breath hitched, voice shaky as she asked him, “What would Belos do?”

Hunter fidgeted uncomfortably, “Well after he gave me the cut-”

“ He what ?! ”

“He gave me the cut,” he repeated slowly, “and then he sent me to my room.”

“Isn’t the Coven full of healing prodigies,” Willow said, feeling increasingly concerned by her friend's situation, “Why didn’t any of them help you?”

“Oh um,” he rubbed his arm, “They are not allowed to help me.”

“Why not?” she asked, trying to keep her temper under control so as to not scare the poor boy.

“Belos doesn’t want anyone to think the royal family is weak in any way.”

“You are not weak for getting hurt,” she stated firmly, “and Belos should never hurt you.”

“I messed up,” he said softly, avoiding looking at her eyes, “I suggested looking into wild magic to help with his- current issue.”

“So let me get this straight,” Willow asked, as calmly as she possibly could given the circumstance, “Belos struck you because you tried to help him?”

“I guess-”

“What do you mean, ‘I guess’ that’s what happened!”

“Our family was killed by wild magic,” He responded angrily, “besides why does it matter, he can always find me and punish me no matter where I am on the Isles.”

“Not if he’s dead.”

“Willow, you can’t kill my uncle.”

“I’ll get Luz, Amity, Gus, and Eda to help,” she said stubbornly.

“Willow , I am trying to keep you safe,” he said, squeezing her hands, “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me, I care about you too much.”

“Well I care about you and don’t want you to get hurt.”

Hunter sighed, “Willow you won’t be able to get rid of Belos and if he orders me I’ll have no choice but to fight you, and in that case you would have to kill me.”

“I am not going to kill you Hunter-”

“ Willow, ” he pulled her closer so she had no choice but to look at him and acknowledge his words, “I need you to promise me you’ll kill me if that happens.”

“Hunter-”

“You’re more powerful and I could never bring myself to harm you,” he said firmly, “If you ever have to face me I need you to kill me.”

“Hunter, don't make me promise that,” she said, tightening her grip on his hands, tears starting to descend from her eyes, “I can’t, I would never be able to.”

“Well if you’re going to attack Belos, I need you to promise me that.”

“Well how am I supposed to protect you then?” she whispered, feeling defeated.

Hunter gently wiped the tears from her face, “You don’t have to.”

“Hunter, I-”

“It’s not your job to monitor my wellbeing,” he said softly, hands holding her face, “You can’t always protect me.”

Willow caved into his arms, wrapping her arms around his waist. He blinked in surprise before pulling her closer to him. His cloak draped over her shoulders like a blanket as she cried. Hunter held her close, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I wish you could just stay here forever,” she said, loosening her grip on him slightly.

“Where, in your room?”

“Just… with me I guess,” she explained, glancing up at him briefly, “I just wish you could stay with me instead of going back to that awful hell hole of a castle.”

“Yeah,” Hunter said, brushing the hair out of her face, “I do as well.”

Willow looked up and rested her hand on the side of his face opposite to the cut. She pulled his face closer to her own, inspecting the cut. Hunter blushed bright red, confused by her actions but he decided not to say anything.

“Sorry, I forgot to put a bandaid on your cut,” she said, blushing slightly when she noticed their proximity. She got up quickly and went back to sorting through her desk drawers.  

She picked up the box of bandaids that Luz had given her from the Owl House. ( Now you’re a boo-boo buddy as well! ) There were only a few large enough to cover up the cut. She turned back to Hunter, sitting down on the bed. She brought her right hand back up to his face, turning it so she could more easily see the huge cut. She peeled off the back of the bandaid and carefully placed it over the wound. She placed the rest in his hand.

“Here, you should probably change the bandaid every day,” she said, not noticing that her hand hadn’t left his face, “Make sure it doesn’t get dirty, I’ll try to get some more from Eda though; you’ll need to come back tomorrow.”

“Sure,” he smiled, “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

“Do not get caught.”

“I won’t.”

“If you get into trouble I’m going to be so mad.”

“I won’t,” he repeated, trying not to laugh at her adorably stern expression.

“Good,” she smiled, before noticing her hand holding his face. And how close their faces were.

Her face flushed brightly, as she pulled away her hand, “Sorry bout’ that.”

“Oh,” Hunter pulled back slowly, “it’s fine, I didn’t really mind.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Yep.”

“All right,” Hunter said laughing awkwardly as he walked over to the balcony, grabbing his artificial staff. He pulled his mask down and waved back to her quickly, “See you tomorrow I guess!”

Willow watched as he shot across the sky, back to the castle. She sat back on her bed. Oh that poor sweet adorable boy. She wished it wasn’t like this. She wished she could protect him.

#the owl house #toh #huntlow #goldengarden #huntlow fic #huntlow fanfiction #toh fic

[olithepoet]

Whumptober Day 1

This is my first tumblr post! I really want to start posting on here so I'm forcing myself to put this out there, even if I don't keep up with it all month. Sorry for any mistakes!

Heres the link to the ao3 if you prefer to read on there! -> https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Whumptober2023/works/50490616

Summary:

Izuku has been overworking himself with training and collapses. Of course, Katsuki is there to catch him.

----------

Izuku was about to get back from training. Katsuki had been waiting all afternoon and had been repeating that same sentence over and over again.

‘He’s about to get back.’

‘He’ll be here in a few minutes

‘Any second now…’

And yet, here he was, still waiting, alone in his dorm.

He was starting to get pissed. Izuku was training with All Might, and Katsuki had warned him to lay off his poor boyfriend. He had been training way too hard, like usual, but it seemed worse lately. If All Might wasn’t taking Izuku out for some much-needed relaxation, and was instead working him so late, he would have to kill him!

He had already yelled at All Might the night before, threatening the same thing. Did he think he wasn’t serious? Because he was, and he would prove it to the old bastard!

In his anger, Katsuki ignored the sound of his door opening behind him. He was fuming, staring down at the homework on his desk that he had completed hours before.

“Kacchan.”

Hearing that hoarse whisper snapped him out of it.

He turned around and saw Izuku there, leaning against the door behind him. He was still grasping onto the knob, even though he had already shut the door. It seemed to be the only thing keeping him steady.

“Where the hell have you been?” He snapped, more out of worry than anything.

“Kacchan…” His boyfriend only whispered again, and Katsuki’s heart pounded. He looked like shit.

“Did that old man work for you for this long? I swear I’ll kill him! What’s he thinking anyway, you’ve trained more than anyone! You don’t need–”

“No, no, Kacchan–” Izuku tried to shut up his angry rambling, but Katsuki didn’t know how else to respond. He was honestly freaked out. He hadn’t seen Izuku like this in a while.

“It was just me, okay? All Might cancel training for some reason…I didn’t want to get behind.”

And Katsuki just stood and stared at his idiot of a boyfriend, because what the fuck? Was he that stupid, to work himself to the point of exhaustion? To go so long without a break? To take no time for himself all week? And worst of all, to worry him?

They were all stupid questions. He knew that his nerd really was that dumb. All Might must’ve canceled after what Katsuki said about him overworking himself, clearly agreeing with what he had said. Of course, Izuku didn’t get that. And he would have to fix this. Like always.

He knelt in front of Izuku and sighed. “You know I told you to take it easy, you idiot. You’re not fucking falling behind. But you will if you keep this shit up! If you won’t listen I’m not gonna keep helping you!” He barked out. Deep down he knew that last part wasn’t true. He would keep helping him. But he wasn’t going to tell Izuku that. He needed to learn his lesson!

Izuku whimpered. “I’m sorry…I…” He could barely speak as his words slurred. Katsuki looked into his face and past his boyfriend's now watery eyes, instead noticing his pale complexion. That wasn’t normal…

Izuku tried looking into Katsuki’s eyes but he couldn’t.

“Hey! Izu!” Katsuki’s anger immediately washed away. He couldn’t pretend to be angry when all he felt was concern. And the tears in Izuku’s eyes as a result of his words didn’t help. “Look at me!”

But Izuku couldn’t focus. His eyes darted around as if he couldn't see.

“Izuku! Did you not hear me? Look!” Katsuki frowned. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Izuku’s head turned to face his hand, but he never got the chance to answer. He tried to, his mouth opening, but when he started to speak, it came out strangled and incomprehensible. He closed his mouth and went to reach for his head.

Taking his hand off the doorknob made him lose balance. He wobbled, and Katsuki watched, helpless, placing his hands loosely onto Izuku’s hips in hopes of stabilizing him.

Then his eyes closed.

Izuku started to fall forward, and Katsuki's hands reached out instinctively to catch him. He immediately stood up, lifting Izuku with him by grabbing under his armpits, and he leaned a certain way so that the limp boy’s head fell onto his shoulder.

He shuffled awkwardly towards his bed and placed Izuku softly onto it. He reached down and lifted Izuku’s legs onto the bed as well, making sure he was in a comfortable position. He placed his hand on his boyfriend's face lovingly, looking at him with concern.

“You idiot.”

Katsuki rushed to the door and half hoped that Izuku wasn’t too out of it and would wake up soon, and half hoped that he would stay asleep for a while. He didn’t want Izuku to wake up while he was gone. That would frighten him, and that was the opposite of what he needed. Katsuki rushed as fast as he could without running.

He reached the elevator and clicked the button to go down. He regretted not using the stairs, and he cursed under his breath at the slow thing. Realistically, he knew this was faster, but that wasn’t the point.

He had already cooked dinner for himself, which inadvertently meant he cooked for Izuku too since lately, the other boy wanted to eat better meals that suited his needs for his training. Izuku had always liked his cooking and Katsuki wouldn’t let Izuku cook for himself, because while he wasn’t completely useless in the kitchen, after a long workout he would just give up and eat whatever was easiest. Katsuki deemed those meals inedible.

He made dinner for Izuku once, to show how much better he was at cooking, and after that, Katsuki led Izuku to believe that he was just stealing his extras.

That wasn’t true of course.

By the time Izuku finished his training, Lunch Rush was done serving food, anyway. It was the same tonight. So, he hurriedly got some food prepared on a plate, the chicken he had cooked earlier that was completely uneaten since Katsuki was waiting to eat with Izuku, and heated it with some other vegetables and rice. Anything to get some nutrients back into his system. He hated to just stand around and wait for the food to finish so he got Izuku a glass of milk too.

Carrying the plate upstairs he realized he maybe had gotten a little too much food. He just wanted the best for his Izuku. The last time he had seen him pass out from exhaustion like this was after his big fight with Shigaraki. Since then, after we all settled back into school again, he had been having instances like this. But not to this extreme.

Well, this was going to be it. Katsuki was sure of it. He was going to get it inside his boyfriend's thick skull that he needed to get a hold of himself, or Katsuki would do it for him.

He made it back upstairs and he sighed with relief when he saw Izuku was still asleep. He put the plate and glass down and sat on the bed next to him.

“Izuku…” Katsuki nudged him, then reached to grab his shoulder and shake him. Izuku blinked for a few moments, with no reaction.

Finally, after far too long in Katsuki’s option, his eyes focus on him. There was no time to waste.

He grabbed Izuku and sat him up forcefully, pulling the plate onto his own lap and cutting the chicken for him. Izuku barely had any time to process what was going on before Katsuki finished, and started shoving pieces into his mouth.

“Kacchan slow down–”

“Eat!”

Izuku took another bite and chewed faster in anticipation, but Katsuki grabbed the milk instead and tilted it into his mouth. Izuku thought he would drown.

When Katsuki was thoroughly satisfied he stopped, and Izuku took the opportunity to stop his crazed boyfriend. He grabbed his hands in the split second that he put the glass down and reached for the fork.

“Stop!”

“Izuku, that wasn’t enough!”

“I know, I know, I’ll eat more, just give me a second!”

Katsuki stares for a moment and then puts his hands down with a sigh. “This is fucking serious Izuku. You can't get mad at me for being worried about you.”

“I know! I’m sorry, I'm just…so scared of falling behind. What if someone gets hurt because I’m not strong enough.” He looks down into his lap.

“Izuku,” he pauses, looking at his boyfriend who has an ashamed look on his face. He wanted to be harsh. To force him to listen, for once. But he could tell he felt bad already. “Is that how you feel? Don’t you understand that doing this to yourself is just making it worse? Izuku, if you keep this up, you’re going to fall behind. You can only get stronger and stay on track if you pace yourself.”

“I know Kacchan. I’m sorry. It’s just so hard for me to accept that sometimes–”

“I know. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Izuku sighed. Of course, his Kacchan understood. He always did. He was the only one who could. Izuku was just so thankful he had his Kacchan.

“I can feed myself, Kacchan. I’m feeling a lot better after eating.” Izuku took the fork and continued his meal. He wasn’t too hungry anymore–after all, Katsuki had shoved an unimaginable amount of food down his throat already–but he could tell that he needed more nutrients. And he wanted to make his Kacchan happy.

Katsuki reluctantly let him feed himself.

“Izuku, I’m not allowing you to train tomorrow. Or the next day. You need these days to let your body heal.”

He nodded between bites of rice. “Okay.”

“And how about, next time, I’ll train with you?”

Izuku lit up. He loved training with Kacchan; it was not only a good challenge, but also a fun time to spend together. Katsuki would keep him in check.

“Perfect.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds being Izuku’s chewing. Katsuki eventually rearranged himself to sit beside him and unintentionally began running his hands through the boy’s dark green curls.

“Kacchan…I can’t eat all this…” The boy took a good look down at his plate, a little amused. There were still three pieces left. And he had already eaten three. “You haven’t even eaten yet, have you? Why don’t you have some?”

“I made it for you.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku laughs. “I think if I ate this much it would be more unhealthy than anything. You seriously couldn’t have made all of this thinking I’d eat it…”

Katsuki sighed. He had caught him. “Fine”

Izuku gave him a sidelong look. “You always yell at me to think of myself more, and yet here you are.”

Katsuki was only half listening, having now taken the fork and knife to cut up the rest of the pieces so they could easily share. “Hah?!”

“You weren’t thinking of yourself, were you? You were going to go without dinner for me.”

“What are you trying to say, nerd?”

“Just that you’re being hypocritical. I could say the same things to you.” And Kastuki would’ve quipped back harder, but Izuku looked so proud of himself for that.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s still different.”

“How?”

“Because I’d only do those things for you.”

Izuku smiled. A real smile, one that brightened Katsuki’s whole year. Because, yeah, this probably wasn’t the last time he would have to deal with his boyfriend being an absolute moron, but that was okay. This was real progress and laid the groundwork for them to get through this, together. He trusted that Izuku would do his best.

Even though Izuku’s exhaustion was very prominent on his face, his smile wasn’t hindered at all. He was going to help Izuku do his best, too, just to make sure that smile wasn’t lost.

And that’s exactly what he did, all night, making sure to stay up way later than it took for them to finish that mountain of food, just to rub the pain away from his boyfriend's sore muscles.

#whumptober2023 #no.1 #Safety Net #Swooning #“How many fingers am I holding up?” #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfiction #whump #fainting #exhaustion #fluff #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #established relationship #taking care of each other #caretaker #Please don't bully me I'm new to this