#the last time he came here was during ELECTIONS

[runnning-outof-time]

Hello K! Happy 3.5K followers celebration! I couldn’t wait to join in the celebration and also see what you have prepared! Enjoy the bunch of followers!

May I ask for a glass of wine 🍷? 🥰✨🎉🍾

This is my request: Tommy + “Look at me right now.” (If it’s not taken already of course)

Thanks for this lovely message, Mar! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write your request - it got pretty angsty. And I’m sure none of y’all were watching my posting schedule, but I’m technically a day letter with this one. Sorry! I hope you like what I did with it! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!

Take the Ring

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Tommy’s a bit of an asshole…what else is new?, (Y/N)’s a bit brash in this one too

Word Count: 964

Summary: (Y/N)’s last straw slips when she confronts Tommy about his absence.

“I really can’t let you in there, Miss,” the man sitting behind the desk in the receptionist area told (Y/N) for the umpteenth time.

(Y/N) sighed. She’d been at this for at least twenty minutes now. She was hoping that maybe her persistence would soon reward her with a different answer. So far it hadn’t been helping.

“Why not?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Because you do not have an appointment. Mr. Shelby only sees those who have an appointment scheduled with him,” the man explained.

“And if I were to say that I was his fianceé?” she tried, “would I need an appointment then?”

The man’s expression changed immediately. (Y/N) just watched as he scrambled to get up from his chair as quickly as he could. “No, you most certainly wouldn’t. I’m sorry, ma’am,” he apologized as he led her to the door that connected to Tommy’s office.

“Thank you,” she nodded at him, a pleased smile on her face as the door was opened to show Tommy sitting at his desk, his face practically buried in papers.

“Mr. Shelby, your fianceé’s here to see you,” the secretary announced, allowing (Y/N) to step inside before he shut the door again.

Tommy’s head snapped up upon hearing the door shut to see (Y/N) standing with her hands clasped behind her back. “Why’re you here?” he asked, no evident emotion present in his voice. If anything, he was confused as to why she was paying him a visit.

“Seriously, Tommy?” (Y/N) was shocked by his nonchalant question. Tommy raised his eyebrows and flipped his right palm to the sky, as if he was repeating his question in a nonverbal manner. “You’ve forgotten what we were supposed to do during lunch today?” Silence followed her question. “We were supposed to tour the venue?”

A sigh left Tommy’s lips. “Something came up, love,” he told her, removing his glasses then so that he could pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Just like with the fittings and the tasting appointments. Something always comes up,” (Y/N) huffed, crossing her arms, “it’s almost like you don’t want this wedding to happen anymore.”

“That’s not it,” he said, shaking his head.

“Than what is it?” her eyes were wide as she waited intently for an answer.

“I’ve got important things to do here, (Y/N). I’ve been elected to this position, and there’s expectations placed on me. I’ll call the venue and reschedule the tour,” he spoke in a flat voice, as if he was dealing with another item of business.

“No, you’re not going to reschedule it just so that you can miss it again,” she insisted, pursing her lips to stop them from quivering in anger.

“I won’t miss it,” he assured her.

“You said that the last time,” she snapped.

“And I’m saying it again,” he said dismissively. Shock filled (Y/N)’s features then as he looked back at his papers, trying to figure out where he was with his work before she’d entered the room.

Is he being serious right now?! (Y/N) thought incredulously, her eyes wide as she watched him slip back into his work like it was nothing. “Look at me right now,” she demanded then, even surprising herself by how assertive she sounded. She waited until his eyes were back on her before continuing, “do you even care about this, Tommy? Do you care about us?”

Tommy stared at her for a moment, digesting her question and thinking it over. His eyebrows were so deeply furrowed together at this point that his forehead was almost starting to hurt. Where had all of this come from? “Where’s this coming from, eh?” he asked exactly what was on his mind.

“It’s just that…” (Y/N) paused with a long sigh. She’d kept all of these feelings bottled up, but now that it was time to talk about them, she had no clue where to start. “I feel like I’m on my own with everything,” she finally said. Her statement barely scratched the surface of what she was feeling, but it was a start.

“You’re not. I’ve got a lot to do, (Y/N). You know that,” he told her, motioning to his desk before he glanced at the clock. He had a meeting that he needed to be at.

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. Sometimes it feels…”

“Mr. Shelby, you’re needed for a meeting,” the secretary broke into (Y/N)’s statement, his words making Tommy stand from his desk.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he told the man, who nodded and shut the door. He took a glance at (Y/N), who now looked baffled, before he went through the motions of lighting himself a cigarette. “Now, is there anything else that’s needed to be talked about? Anything that can’t wait until I get home?”

Is. He. Being. Serious. Right. Now? she repeated to herself as she blinked a few times, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that he was essentially dismissing her. The more she thought about it, the more her anger rose. This was the final straw for her. She was at the end of her rope.

“Yeah, actually there is something else,” she responded, her emotions quickly becoming apparent as she took a few steps closer to his desk while fighting with the piece of jewelry present on her left hand’s fourth finger. “Take the ring, Tommy. I’m finished with all of this.”

“(Y/N)…”

“No. Save it. I see how this ends now, and I’m saving myself from it. Goodbye, Tommy Shelby,” she cut his objection off, looking up at him only to reveal her glare before she turned on her heel and stormed out of the office.

*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (2)

[Astarion x reader] Due to surprisingly overwhelming demand, the previous fic, along with this one and many more to follow, will now be part of a series!! It was honestly very difficult trying to come up with what happens next, but here we are. The idea came to me during a fever!! |Word count: 2.5k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 1 here!!

Next part here!!

The reader believes they are in a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time their fantasies conjured up such an obscure, yet somehow realistic scene. And so they’ve elected to treat the experience with as much realism as one would observe in a dream; little to none.

Alternatively;An ex-art-student-now-traveler accustoms themselves to the party.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

“Shadowheart. Shadow…heart. Hm.” His gaze bounced between you and her. 

“I’m sure her parents meant well, but the name is rather ominous, isn’t it?” He leaned over to your side, not bothering to hide his blatant distrust. Lowering his voice dramatically, if anything.

“Unless she chose it herself. Which is even more worrying, honestly.” He chuckled out.

It had been no more than two bells after mornbright when you met Astarion. Since then, you’ve come to realize how…different your presence has changed the course of the story. Though more subtle than you expected.

It would seem as if you had met the elven vampire before the party was formed, which was strange as your last save point was far later than that and the forest had been quite a long way from the beach.

When you finally stumbled upon Shadowheart, he was quick to share his inner thoughts that you haven’t heard from the game before. 

As they continued with their quest to find a cure for the Illithid problem, expanding their party as they did so, you had tried to make yourself useful by doing the dirty work for them. Looting and opening crates filled with camp supplies, armor, and potentially useful weapons and artifacts could always come in handy for trade or for “artifact consumption,” as per Gale’s need. Sorting them for your group’s convenience.

And while you did not have more direct and immediate practical use for your course of study in the modern world, the research you’ve created and reviewed for character creation and world building was doing wonders for your survival.

Or as much as it can for a magicless, not so athletic human. 

The “runes” of the medieval ages that have been carved into stone, along with the basic history and background of the common races and deities of the fantastical world that tabletop RPG has offered puts you at quite an advantage.

Not to mention your experience with the areas of the game giving you the same effect.

But this library of information had also aroused something akin to suspicion and concern. It would be understandable if you were a simple traveler just like them, or perhaps even an artisan from the guild, but you were not as astute as either background.

So how could you have access to this much knowledge yet be unaware of more practical matters? It’s as if you had simply read about it from somewhere. 

Astarion had been quick to give an explanation before you could form one of your own that could poorly convince your companions. Although, perhaps his suggestion was more outlandish than anything you could have come up with.

“They came with me. Property and all the formality that comes with it. A family pet, if you will.” A perfect excuse to justify your constant proximity to him, and a likely explanation to being well read, but not well experienced.

You thought nothing of the title, your apathy to the non-hazardous labels of this world apparent.

The same couldn’t have been said about your associates who had a few comments about this disclosure.

“I am unfamiliar with the–well, I shall not say ‘culture.’ ‘Customs’, perhaps. I did not think your kind to house such breed of cattle. Perhaps they could be useful.” Was Lae’zel’s. 

“I assure you, they typically don’t. Humans aren’t naturally subservient to Elves, at least in this manner. This setup sounds more akin to slavery. Blink twice if you need help.” Was Gale’s response. 

“It seems like Astarion's from the upper city, given the embroidery on his armor. I wouldn’t put it past them to have servants that follow them around.” Shadowheart’s nose crinkled at the thought. 

The party already had such an interesting rapport. Not entirely comfortable with one another to divulge everything, but loose enough to have semi-pleasant conversation with.

You thought this as you sorted out the fruits of your collective labor into neat pouches and bags, keeping items similar to one another factioned into their respective holding space. The chest being closer to Withers more than you’d like, but it was nice to hear the ramblings of an…undead person? Hearing someone continuously talking allows you to be more productive.

You’ll admit, handling enchanted armor and crystals does make you a tad nervous but you’re comforted by the thought that it will not be you who wields it in battle.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gale approaching your direction. Possibly to ask for his share of the camp supplies just a little earlier to sate himself as you had an abundance of it for now. You regard him with your back turned and he stops for a bit.

“I will say that I don’t have the lightest of feet, but I figured myself better at sneaking around.” It’s not his fault that he got caught, but the bright purple robe and the smell of the oils you’ve been crafting for them are particularly noticeable.

“You are, but I’ll assume you're not exactly in the best shape after dealing with a few goblins.” You hold up a bottle of a healing potion, swinging it a bit with your fingers to indicate that the smell had warned you of his arrival.

“You’ve got a keen nose on you. Must be from all of Astarion’s training but, speaking of which,” He nears himself to your crouched form, going in to lean against a very old and empty crate.

“Gale, wait–” Right as your warning leaves you, they seem to evade him as falls right through the wood. A comical layer of dust and lichen pluming out from the force. He tries to quickly recover from both the physical and emotional damage as he brushes himself off to make himself presentable once more. 

“Ahem, as I was saying,” He again makes his way over to you, settling for just standing close as his attempts to look unbothered temporarily cost him his ego.

“I was serious about what I said before. While I don’t know what to make of our pallid friend just yet, as enigmatic as he is, what he said before is quite confusing. Best make haste away from here if you want your freedom while we’re distracted with this worm problem.” His tone suggests a genuine concern which confuses you.

You’d be lying to yourself if the label of the set up didn’t sound odd, but you’ve never expressed discomfort as there was nothing all too worrying about it on your end. It was mostly for show, and you had as much independence as Tav would have in your game.

You endeavor to quickly dispel his worries.

“You don’t have to worry, I’m very satisfied with my servitude under Astarion. He’s very lenient and reliable, and I’m better off with him than on my own." You return to your task of sifting through your materials but pause and look back up at him to continue.

"I do thank you for turning my way though. Your concern is much appreciated but unnecessary.” You lowered your head a bit to show your thanks.

“Well if someone as generous as yourself says to trust you on this, then I have no choice but to concede! I’ll keep a watchful eye and offer guidance, should you need it. Also, do we happen to have something for—” As he asks you for some sort of salve, just a few ways off, your eccentric “handler,” of sorts, watches the two of you interact.

Don’t get him wrong, such matters don’t really catch his attention, but being an elf does curse him with the ability to have extensive hearing. Something that he thinks Gale knew, and something you forgot. That would explain the lack of distance between you two.

He thinks it’s amusing how the wizard is trying to make conversation with you as if you were some foreign creature. His usual eloquence nowhere to be seen, and you seemed as unbothered as ever. Like how he usually saw you when you conversed with someone through a crystal.

It was a phone, not that he knew that though.

“They’re a real nice one, aren’t they?” Karlach says from her side of the camp which was nearer towards his tent and yours.

“Hm, yes. While that may be an admirable trait, it’s hardly going to get them anywhere if they keep this up.” Astarion huffed out, not very keen on your altruistic playstyle so far.

He doesn’t know much about what you do and don’t know, all he knows is that you do know of the events to unfold and could be the key to defeating his master.

 All he needs is to keep you at his side. So he’ll allow you this much freedom.

“Oh come on, you. You can’t seriously think that after everything. Our camp’s pretty well maintained because of ‘em, not to mention the connections we’ve been able to get!” She fortifies her statement by knocking on her chest, the engine humming within feels lighter and newer since you’ve informed her of the tiefling blacksmith at the grove. 

He hums in response, returning to reading his book as he thinks about his growing hunger. He’ll have to hunt soon enough. While your positive reputation occasionally reflects on him by proxy, it can also reflect negatively due to the alleged nature of your relationship. If he wants the journey to a way of understanding the tadpoles to be a more comfortable one, he has to at least prevent their trust in him from diminishing.

~

Night falls later than he’d have liked, having waited for everyone to be asleep so that he may prowl the forest for sustenance.

The rest were sound asleep in their bedroll as the skirmish from earlier on in the day had proven to be sufficiently tiring. The crackling fire surely brings a lulling warmth that he supposes he’ll have to miss out on for a while.

As he begins to slink off into the darkness, he looks back to gauge his surroundings and catches your form from across the settlement. It seems you were tallying away the items in the shared chest and double-checking to see that everything is checked and balanced with your records. 

Your shoulders jump at his suddenly standing form, but try to understand his intentions. You mouth, “where?” with a very confused face, to which he responds with a simple shushing motion and waits for your acknowledgement.

You nod slowly, and he holds your gaze before sneaking off once again.

‘He’s coming back, right?’ You wondered. The progression of your experience now in comparison to the game was vastly different, and you didn’t know if all scenes, or only some, would present themselves in this world. You assume he planned to hunt, and while you trust his abilities, you want to make sure he’s attended to properly should he be harmed in any way.

So after retrieving a few potions, a journal, and a pencil, you stashed them in a satchel and positioned yourself at the base of the tree in the direction he left in. You weren’t particularly sleepy tonight, and planned to pass the time in wait of your companion. 

There wasn’t much to do in this century to keep yourself entertained. The only things you’ve found so far were a few instruments and all manners of journals and inks.

The inkpot that you picked up appeared to be red this time. The game of, “which ink dye will I get this time?” will have to be the most of your entertainment for now. Not all too different from home, you suppose. And while writing keeps your mind at bay, illustrating all manners of wildlife have proven to be quite the fun exercise. 

You’ve made a few notes on creatures that you and your company have encountered. The visual elements of a drawing allowed you and the others to keep track of materials that could be salvaged from them, and their resistances to certain attacks. 

Though as much as you liked depicting such lifeforms in paper, you’ve come to be very interested in portraying your vampire friend.

Evidence of your interest present in the pages filled with his likeness as you search for an unmarked page. You’ve made a few of the others, yes, but anyone who would gain access to your journal would surely see which member of the group you favor more.

You continued to draw, and occasionally write, on the parchment as you waited for Astarion to come back. All sense of time evading you as you focus on the task at hand.

A perfect opportunity for a tired rogue to surprise an unsuspecting human.

“And what are you still doing up, little one?” He appears from behind the very tree you rested against, causing you to spill a bit of ink on your thumb.

You clicked your tongue, not at all annoyed by the character but by your absentmindedness and now stained appendage.

“Sorry, I was just waiting for you.” You sealed the inkpot, and gathered your materials. Effectively, but unknowingly, hiding your work from peering eyes that were the same deep red as your finger.

“I’m very flattered, darling. But couldn’t you wait until morning? I'm sure this couldn’t have been all too important, yes?” He gestures to your satchel, referring to your journal, but you misinterpreted it as him asking for your medical supplies.

“Oh, that depends. Are you hurt, by any chance? I stayed awake in case you might've needed help tending to yourself.” You opened the pouch to reveal its contents to him, your stained thumb in full view.

The sight makes him sigh out, but is thankful for your offered service.

“I’m alright, nothing of interest happened while I was away.” He considers telling you about the nature of his little…'escapade.' He's unaware if you are of his condition, and he doesn’t wish to out himself if not necessary to avoid possible conflict. So he settles for advising you to rest.

“We need you well rested, my dear. You sleep. I’ll keep watch.” The dialogue is familiar, and you can’t stop yourself from letting a small laugh out as you responded with an equally familiar line

“Thank you. I’ll sleep better for that.” You lower your head as you usually do in gratitude.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He mirrors your gesture, albeit in a way that is most appropriate for someone of his character. “Sweet dreams.”

You walked back to the chest. Returning the potions and ink you’ve plucked from the supply, but keeping the rest of the pouch’s materials with you as you turn in for the night. Awaiting the promise of further study that a new day typically makes.

As Astarion is left with his own thoughts, a sour taste still in his mouth from his earlier meal, he thinks about the man in the journal you kept. He did not see much, only a vague outline of the figure. He thinks about who, or what, it could have been but dismisses the thought rather quickly.

He has no time for a mysterious person with hair less perfect than his own, touching his untainted locks as he does.

—��——━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Thank you everyone for your interest in the series!! As per the request of some, I'll now be adding a taglist!

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, and @tiannamortis for asking to be tagged!!

#astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x mc #baldur's gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader isekai(?) #aware!astarion #though I guess not so aware-- #lol

[ncteez]

Give & Take (l.s)

It’s not weird that you and your roommate do certain things that others would consider, um, strange. It’s not weird because you don’t make it weird, and he certainly doesn’t go out of his way to make a big deal either. 

or the one where you and your roommate masturbate together casually until it becomes not so casual, and maybe neither of you can do it at this point without wanting more.

ao3 | m.list | reblog to give seokmin a boner 

minors dni!! 

WORDCOUNT― 6.6k

PAIRING― seokmin x afab reader 

CONTENT― roommate au, roommates to lovers

NOTE― This is dedicated to @onlyseokmins and that’s all I have to say about this. (i’m a liar i actually want this man so bad so here’s my need for him in fic form and also a direct attack on elv.) not proof read.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― big dick seokmin, mutual masturbation, pining, desperate stuff i guess, pretending he’s fucking you instead of his hand,  just the tip moment, unprotected sex, he pulls out bc he’s polite. ~

Moving in with Seokmin was a no-brainer. Both of you were freshly graduated from the same college and starting new jobs in the same city hours away from home. Seeing a familiar face in a city of bustling businesses and loud streets was a welcome comfort for you, living with that familiar face only made it easier. 

It wouldn’t be a lie to say that back during the college days, you and Seokmin weren’t close. Not until your senior year together that the two of you somehow met in the middle with a single class despite the drastically different majors. He took it as an elective, yours was the last “easy” class to get through before graduation, because maybe your advisor fucked up and never told you it was necessary to take, and maybe you were a little mad about it. 

You became less mad as you helped Seokmin through his struggles. An elective for him was a career for you, so it was easy to walk him through it. You grew close within the stress of senior year so of course, when you found out he was moving to the same city that you’re moving to, you instantly jumped into action in trying to convince him to save money by living together with you. 

It’s a big city, and while you both had jobs lined up, it’s not like the pay was enough for one person to afford an apartment in the heart of the city. Thankfully, he didn’t need to be swayed and it only took a few weeks for the two of you to head out and explore the apartments offered, landing on one that leaves an equal distance both of you would need to travel to work. One that only costs some seven hundred and fifty dollars a month each (a hefty amount for just one person.) 

By now, it’s been about six months since the two of you settled here in the heart of a great city. Work has been going smoothly despite the tired nights when the two of you meet up outside (because somehow you both clock out at the same time too) and decide on whether you want to walk to a shop for dinner or fight over who is gonna put the nuggets in the oven this time. 

Things were normal for the most part, you think, regarding roommates anyway. There is one thing that’s changed though. Not your fondness of him, not even the way you look at him when he’s being annoying and loud while singing in the shower. 

It started about two months into living in this space with him. He must have lost track of the time that day because he knew your schedule then and still knows it now like the back of his hand. He took the day off, feigning sickness after a long Sunday of doing absolutely nothing and wanting to extend it just a bit longer through the following Monday. You worked that day, of course, you did. You came home on time as you always did too, except this time you didn’t come home to him in his room or cooking dinner. 

It was a weird kind of rush, wondering how the fuck this could be happening as you stood at your doorway to find him exposing more of himself than you ever expected or wanted to see at the time. There, on the couch was your dope of a roommate, legs spread wide and length in hand. On the tv played nothing, but his phone was propped on his thigh as he stared down at it with deep sighs. 

You were frozen at that moment, watching him and feeling your cheeks warm up. You didn’t know if you should turn to leave, make a noise so he stops, or just watch. Somehow, you found yourself not wanting to disturb him. Was it because you liked what you saw? At the time, you would have said absolutely not. But seeing how it is now, it’s more common than not to see him orgasm, it’s kind of laughable.

On that day, he must have felt someone watching him because mid-stroke he looked up at you and fumbled his pants back over his length. Muffling apologies with raspy whispers, skin glistening on his forehead indicating he must’ve been at it for a while, and you were just standing there silent. 

That night, you laid in your bed wondering why you couldn’t get that image out of your head. Seeing him like that wasn’t something you ever thought about despite how handsome he is. He’s your friend, he’s your roommate. You can’t stop thinking now though, about how big he is in all of his entirety. From his height to his– yeah. 

It went on like that for about two weeks. You, not able to get that image out of your head and him, acting as normal as ever as if it never happened. It wasn’t until the end of that two-week time span that you realized you enjoyed it. Like you would have liked to have seen him finish. 

It swam in your brain for a while, wondering if you should bring it up or if you should push past it and find some guy to meet up with just to work out the horny energy, after all, it’s not like you know anyone in this city well enough to have an intimate relationship with. No one besides Seokmin anyway. Dilemmas, dilemmas. 

Not so much a dilemma though, to your pleasure. It’s brought up one night on a Saturday as the two of you say at the kitchen table complaining about work. Minutes passed, then an hour passed and he suggested having a drink to wind down. You accepted, sipping the alcohol he so proudly made for you. 

It felt warm in the apartment by that point, but you didn’t mind as you found your brain falling back to that image of him. You thought he might be wearing the same shirt that we was wearing that day, which is kind of detrimental for your fogging brain. But, he brings it up. 

“You know, you’ve been kind of weird since that day.” He commented, running his fingers along the rim of his glass. “I really did lose track of time, and I can’t stop feeling embarrassed by it.”

You could see a softer side of him at that moment. Out of how long you’ve known him by now, never once have you seen him embarrassed. 

“About that,” You started, not able to look him in the eye. “I was shocked but–” 

The way he looked at you at that moment was difficult to process. It was new ground for both of you. 

“I think I liked it?”

~

The tip-toeing around each other didn’t last as long as you expected it to. After the talk you had with him on that Saturday night, somehow the two of you ended up doing the very thing that had you in a rut in the first place.

You got to watch him in full, working himself up until he suggested you join, that maybe he’d be into it too. Saying that he felt weird being the only one, though he didn’t mind that you were watching. You don’t know what got into you that night, maybe it was the alcohol, but you did join him. A full five feet away from each other but shamelessly watching hand movements until orgasm. You noted him holding off too, until you got there. It was an interesting dynamic, truly. 

And now, six months into living with him, it’s become a normal occurrence. After every hard day at work, “wanna get off with me?”, after every long movie session or board game loss, “wanna watch each other come?”, to the point that now it’s nearing every day. Any self-fuck session became a shared one. 

Sometimes he even texts you from his room late at night. It’s like you know his jerk-off schedule more than your own work schedule by now. Sometimes, you don’t even touch yourself but instead, enjoy watching him get there with a little help from you, taking off your shirt or spreading your legs. It’s become a thing. And somehow, it’s not as weird as it should be. 

“You got plans this weekend?” Seokmin bellows through a yawn from his room after hearing your alarm go off. 

“Since when do I ever have plans?” You say through your own yawn after pulling yourself out of the bed. You tiptoe the few feet from your door to his, leaning against it and scratching the back of your neck. “Why?”

He stretches loud and obnoxiously before rolling over and planting his face into his pillows. 

“Wanna skip out on work today?” 

You step into his room, throwing yourself on top of him with a tired groan. 

“Yeah,” You sigh out, closing your eyes and fully aware that you could go back to sleep right now despite this uncomfortable position over your roommate. “but why?”

His voice is muffled more by the pillows when he answers you, mostly because your body weight is pressing him further down. He fights to turn his head away from the pillow, takes in a deep breath from the brief smothering, and smiles. 

“I dunno, we haven’t really had a chance to go out and explore the city much outside of furniture and grocery shopping.” 

You realize that he’s right. You’ve heard talk of the malls in this area, of the theme parks, the museums. There’s so much to do here, and neither of you have really attempted to do any of it. 

“Starting today, because we are going to skip work,” He narrows his eyes as he lifts his body up and forces you to roll off of him. “You are going to skip, right?”

You nod, waiting for him to continue what he was originally going to say. 

“We should go out and explore. Rent is paid already, fridge is full, I saved up a bit so we could go do some stuff.”

It flies right past your head. You don’t even stop to think that he saved up to do this with you, and instead you simply nod with a smile before hopping off of him and rolling off of the bed to your feet.

“Guess I should call my boss.” You shrug, starting to leave the room. 

“Wanna sleep a little more first? Kind of dumb to skip out on work and not sleep in.”

You nod again, yawning and looking down at your phone to search for your workplace number. Thankfully, after calling, there was no issue with you skipping work today. After all, you haven’t really missed a single day since you started (unlike some people: seokmin.)

~

Friday was eventful, the two of you walked to all of the shops closest to your apartment, stepping into a cafe and having some coffee, then went to a pristine shopping district and scoffed together at the price of a pair of socks. 

By the time you got home, you were just as tired as you would have been coming home from work, and he was still bouncing on his feet. Drinks, dinner, sleep. 

No casual masturbation that day.

On Saturday, it started much the same except this time the two of you went to a mall. Why he kept insisting on buying you cute panties and matching bras? You know the answer. You’re kind of part of his porn collection now, and he is part of yours too. Maybe he considered it a little too hard when you also suggested he get a cute pair of panties to wear. He didn’t though, and instead bought you like six too-expensive sets of lingerie. Each color to match whatever horny brain he’s in, you assume. 

That night, the two of you ate at a restaurant and took a taxi back home. Sitting beside him on the couch, a question started floating in your brain and by now you knew better than to keep these kinds of things to yourself given the dynamic you have with him.

“You know, you’re buying me all of this sexy stuff–” 

“I am, yeah.” He smiles proudly, eyes crinkling as his eyes shoot to the bag on the kitchen table. 

“Why aren’t you just going out to meet someone instead of settling with jerking off all the time?”

He doesn’t even hesitate.

“That’s a lot of work, why would I do that when you’re right here?”

Why would he do that if you’re here? 

“Why, you getting bored of me?” He jokes, leaning against you and nudging your shoulder. “Should I have bought those panties to spice it up a bit?”

God, it’s so weird how normal this is. No touching each other, only looking. Desperate looking at that, searing eyes, extremely hot orgasms, wobbling legs, and then sleeping alone. Would it really be so strange at this point to want to touch him? To want to spice it up not with panties, but with the act of actually feeling how warm he is? 

“Oh no.” He pauses, eyes widening. “You actually wanted me to wear those?”

“No!” You laugh, though it would’ve maybe awoken something in you, you’re not sure. “I just figured you know, it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to go get laid.”

He stares are you before throwing out another joke. 

“I know that.” He laughs, turning to face you. “It’s not like it would be hard for you either. Why aren’t you out and about instead of sitting in front of me and touching yourself?”

You freeze at his words, realizing that so many times it’s been silent sessions together save for moaning. He’s never actually said those words to you, never dirty talked, never crossed an invisible line while it happened. 

“Would you prefer I go find someone else?” You avoid the feeling in your gut right now only briefly, staring him down.

“No, I’d honestly prefer you touch yourself for me and only me.” 

Oh. Oh fucking no. 

“That’s all you need to be satisfied?” 

He smiles proudly again, eyes flicking back over to the bag and you shake your head at him. 

“We need to wash those before I wear them so you’re gonna have to deal with the boring panties I wore today, I guess.”

He nods, already following suit on the regular list of things he does when this happens. 

It’s always so quiet, and never did it bother you until now. Watching him do nothing but grab his length and squeeze it until it starts to harden. Eyes on you as you do your own version of working yourself up, hand down your waist band and simply touching and rubbing until you feel the first sensation of your gut flipping.

“Seokmin.” You start, looking at him through narrow eyes. This is enough for you, but…is it?

“Hm?” He responds, eyes focused on the movement under your shorts. 

“Can you talk a little bit this time?” 

He smiles, chuckling a bit at you for the question.

“Oh, you’re into that?” He says almost in a mocking tone, but it sends a little wave of heat through his body to have you asking for more of him in some way. “I can’t promise I won’t say something stupid though.”

You shake your head, running your fingers up your folds and stopping at your clit.

“I don’t care what you say, I just really like your voice right now.”

Another pause from him as you watch him adjust his almost fully erect length under his pants. 

“Only right now?” He asks, trailing his fingers gently along the underside of his length and turning his body back to where his back is against the couch cushions. 

“No, I mean, I like your voice all the time but you never say much when we do this–” You admit, watching him intently like you always do, feeling the clock tick up to the point you know he’s going to pull it out and start sighing. 

“Alright, does this mean I can ask for something too?”

You quirk a brow at that but quickly nod in anticipation because finally, this is going somewhere past just watching. 

“Can we like, um–” He blushes mid-question, turning his face to look at you with all of his shame showing plainly. “Can we do it in an actual position for once?”

You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you or if he’s actually wanting to pretend he’s fucking you by suggesting that. Immediately you fumble with the button on your shorts to get them off. 

“Yeah, Oh–” You stop yourself from sounding too excited. “I mean, like, what position?”

“Can I be on top?” He blurts, pulling his hand away from his length and once again looking at you and the way your fingers remain on the hem of your shorts, preparing to take them off. 

The image alone in your head of that is enough to want exactly what he wants, if not more. The illusion of him fucking you while you fuck yourself? You really couldn’t ask for more than that at this moment, though that could be argued if you think too hard about it.

“Deal.” 

The second you say that word, he’s jumping up and practically tearing his pants off of him. His eagerness is as loud and obnoxious as always, you can even hear a small “fuck yeah” whispered to himself when he does it. All is well and good until he’s tugging your shorts down for you.

Never has he taken your clothes off for you. The intimacy is flowing through you, but you’re not sure if he is feeling the same way about it. He’s probably just eager to try something new tonight rather than the usual. 

Your shorts are off faster than you’d normally take them off and you’re kind of chuckling about his blatant desperation until he hovers over you and positions himself where he wants to be. 

Now…now he’s intimidating. With both knees on the couch, your legs bent at the knees and resting on his hips. That doesn’t even matter to you right now, because you haven’t seen his face this close before. You haven’t felt his hips against your legs before, outside of when you flop down on each other during a tired morning to wake the other up. You’ve never felt your stomach flip like this over him.

And when his eyes leave that spot between your legs to meet your own with his same dopey smile, it’s like you melt into a puddle instantly and you’re wanting so much more than just this. You hold back though, finally pulling your eyes from his and looking between his legs.

You knew his cock was big but you’ve also never seen it this close to your body. It’s like, big big. Thick too, and never did you notice just how huge it is because his hands are equally huge, and wrap around it perfectly. To him, it’s a perfectly accurate cock for a man so tall and broad, but damn. 

It’s a bit embarrassing that all it took was for him to hover over you with his cock out to have you forgetting that you asked for him to talk through it. You’re in danger. Extreme danger with him like this and eager to talk this time. It starts so fast, so casually, and you’re still spinning internally just to grasp what you’re feeling right now. 

“Good?” 

That all he fucking says to start, settling into his position fully and grasping himself. Honestly, his cock is only a few inches above your core and you can feel the heat from it.

You nod, curling in on yourself a bit and he takes note of it because you’re never fucking shy. 

“Too much?” He asks, watching you shake your head in response. “God, thank fuck. Because you look so good right now.”

Spinning. 

“You can let go of me now though, I can see how wet you are already.” He continues, chuckling at the way your arms grip his shoulders.

You didn’t even fucking notice that you instantly started clinging to him. Especially with the fact that you didn’t expect him to talk to you like this. The two of you haven’t even started yet and he’s already got you on the verge of insanity. 

You’re quick to pull your arms back and lift your shirt up over your chest before slowly trailing your hand down. 

“Match my pace, okay? It’ll feel better.” He instructs, blatantly making a point so it does look and feel like he’s actually fucking you, all movements matching, sounds matching, lust matching.

You nod again, silently, eyes now focusing on his cock because if you look at his face right now you might just buckle and start crying over how insanely hot he is. 

He lets out a short chuckle at your silence, he’s used to that and didn’t take issue with it at all until you asked him to talk. He hopes you talk back at some point, but for now he leaves it alone as he starts stroking.

Precum is leaking already just from seeing you beneath him like this, bra covering your chest, panties covering your pussy– but it’s enough to get him going. He would feel selfish to ask for more unless you offer it first. He’s got you where he’s always wanted you since this whole thing started. 

You watch his hands, slipping your fingers under your panties and sliding them through your folds at the same pace, shivering only slightly at the feeling at you watch him. 

This pace works for a few minutes, but you note his grip grows tighter on himself and you hear his breath stutter in a sigh when he does it. You wonder what that feels like for him, and you wonder what he’s thinking about as he does it. You move your fingers to your clit at that point, pressing in and releasing your own sigh of relief.

He watches you, eyes shooting to your face and studying the way you close your eyes to really feel it. 

“Look at you,” he coos, trying to talk like you asked him to. “feels better when I’m here, right?”

You half open your eyes with a crooked smile, because of course it feels better when he’s with you. Even if he’s not touching you, even if he’s not the one doing it. 

“So pretty when you do this, you know–” He continues, praising you and falling into the words easier than he expected. “I think I fell in love with watching you from the second you spread your legs for me.”

You can’t. You can’t look at him when he’s talking to you, it’s a lot. It does something, it does a lot of something to you, so you focus on his cock and the way he starts pressing his hips into the circle his fingers create rather than pumping himself. He’s slow with it, lazily moving his hips back, forward, then back again. 

At that moment, you slide your fingers down and tease at your entrance, dipping a finger in easily and releasing a sigh. You can’t imagine this one finger will mimic what he could do to you, but you settle. 

“That’s it,” he says as he watches, hanging his head and knowing exactly what you’re doing with your fingers. “Can I see?”

You don’t respond and instead use your other hand to hook your panties to the side, revealing your finger sliding into you at the pace he’s sliding into his palm. 

The sigh he lets out begins to form into a moan at the end as he watches, wetting his lips and furrowing his brows. He keeps his hips steady despite obsessing over the fact that you’re fucking yourself at the same pace for illusion’s sake. 

“Put in another.” He instructs, watching you do just that and release another sigh. He’s becoming frustrated with the situation though, knowing for a fact that he could do better for you. Knowing that if you’d just suggest it, he would instantly be giving in. “Is that even enough for you?”

Your eyes shoot open and go straight to his face, which is staring down intently at the way your fingers fuck you open. 

“Not always.” You admit, shooting your gaze back down to his cock and the way his grip tightens around it. “Is that enough for you?” You follow up, pointing to his hand with your head.

“Not always…” he mimics you, and then it’s silent as the two of you accept the fact that this has to be enough right now.

And it stays like that for a while. To the point that his hips are relentlessly fucking into his palm, causing his knuckles to bump your clit every few seconds, and you’ve buried in a third finger trying your best to pretend it’s him. 

It’s both too much and not enough. Too much in the fact that he’s all over you, and too little in the fact that he’s right there and not in you. Your fingers aren’t enough when his cock is right there, his words aren’t enough when he’s not muffling that voice with your lips, and you can’t imagine he’s not feeling frustrated with the situation. All of the puzzle pieces are in front of you and neither of you are putting in the effort other than organizing them. You’re not snapping them together, you’re just on the fucking edge of the situation you want. 

Does he want it? Is it too much to ask? Is it–Oh. 

“Can I–” he starts, cutting himself off with a sharp breath because of the way you clearly are trying to reach deeper inside of yourself in pace with his long thrusts. 

“Yes.” You don’t even know what he’s asking, and to be fair you don’t think you give a shit. Whatever he wants to do, please, just do it. 

And he does without a second thought, releasing his grip and pulling at your wrist to slip your fingers out of yourself. Then, he presses his cock directly between your holds, holding it down as he picks up the pace again and thrusts up.

It’s not what you were expecting, but then again you should have known he wasn’t asking to fuck you. This is good though, feeling his cock sliding between your lips, head bumping your clit. The warmth, the heaviness, the way his length is so thick that all you can do is try to not feel empty while it’s sliding through your arousal.

He’s more focused now than he was before, nearly letting out a sob rather than a moan at the feeling of your pussy against the underside of his cock. It's like he’s getting everything he needs and nothing at the same time, but the image of your eyes staring down at it too was enough for him to know you like it too. You like it enough. 

When you let out a moan, trailing your hands up to your chest and releasing your tits from the bra, he only grinds faster against you, pressing down harder on his cock to create a tight space between your pussy and his palm. He stares at your tits, and then at your lips, and then back down at the way your pussy lips spread around his cock as he slides through them. 

Another hidden sob pretending to be a moan, and then he’s leaning closer to your face. 

“If I kiss you, would you be mad?”

You instantly strain your neck to connect your lips with his, and he falls into it all too easily. You can feel him speed up his thrusts, and you can feel his desperate tongue. It takes you a moment to realize this is your first kiss, and it’s while his cock is getting off against you. 

Its more than you could have asked for, honestly, but you’re going to ask for more because as you kiss him, well, all you can think of is how this looks outside of your position. It definitely looks like he’s fucking you. The image that you can’t even see in full is arousing you beyond belief as you kiss him, and when he pulls back for a breath, you take that short moment to spill your thoughts.

“Just a little.” You groan blankly, squeezing your breast in your hand and using your other hand to push his cock away from you. “Just–”

He stops, out of breath, trying and failing to comprehend what you’re trying to say. 

“Just what?” He groans, grabbing his cock and pumping it much like he normally would. 

“A little, just put it in a little bit.”

His face is on fire as his hand halts on his leaking cock. Did he hear you wrong? He’s watching your hands squeeze against your chest, he sees your eyes avoiding him, he can still taste your lips on his, and your pussy is just below his cock, pulsing around nothing. Is he reading you wrong?

“Just a little bit…” he repeats what you ask for, looking down at you and placing a hand on your thigh, spreading his fingers out wide. “You’re asking me to fuck you, just a little bit?”

God, the words. So few words but also so many words.

“Yes.”

He leans down inches from your face and you can feel his cock fall back to your folds at the moment, you shiver unintentionally.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to do that and then you end up regretting it.”

He told himself time and time again during these sessions with you that he would instantly jump for the opportunity to fuck you, but now that he’s faced with it– he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with himself aside from asking for confirmation as many times as he can until he believes you really want it. 

“Just,” You still avoid his eyes and the way they’re staring through you. “Please.”

He nods in an unsure way at first before pulling back and holding his length in his hand again. 

“Just a little bit, right?” He tries to confirm, and you nod.

With a deep breath, pounding heart, and spinning thoughts, he aligns himself with you and doesn’t know how to comprehend the feeling of slipping into you. So he simply…doesn’t.

You can feel the intense stretch instantly, the feeling you’ve been searching for making you shiver and nearly writhe beneath him. Just an inch, it’s all you need, he doesn’t have to do any more than that. You don’t need more, you have self-control, right?

“Oh, fuck,” he groans as your pussy envelops the head of his cock. He can feel the pulsing inside of you massage against it, he can feel the wetness, the fucking warmth. “Fuck, fuck.” 

It’s all he can say, honestly, speechless at your silence of the act. The way your mouth falls open in a silent moan only urges him to give you short, single inch thrusts despite the wetness you offer making it difficult to not accidentally slide further in.

“So thick,” You whine out in a broken and desperate voice. 

It causes him to have to take in a deep breath and hold it. Good lord, he’s fighting so many demons right now not to plunge into you and take whatever he can get. 

“A little more,” you urge him, wiggling your hips and sucking him in against his own movements. He doesn’t mind it, nor does he mind the embarrassing sound he lets out at the feeling. 

Now, he can thrust another inch in, stretching you open a little more, shocked that the three fingers you used before didn’t seem to come close to preparing you for this. He can feel how tight your walls are around him, and again, the demons. 

He lets out another embarrassing sound when he looks down, seeing only a quarter of his cock inside of you. He, once again, holds himself back from pushing in more. He could go so deep, but he can’t. 

“Little more?” He asks meekly, reaching a hand out to your cheek in the hope that you’d let him. He won’t ask again. Just, if he can get half of his cock in you, it would be plenty. It would be enough, he would be satisfied. 

“Or,” you groan at the adjustment around him, knowing full well that by asking him to put the tip in that you’d want so much more. It’s fun thinking you can control yourself, but it’s more fun losing that control with another person. You’re both controlling the need to fuck and be fucked solely because you don’t know if the other wants it. But god, he’s already inside of you, isn’t it fucking obvious?! 

“You could just fuck me.”

Say no more, with those words it’s like his hips act of their own will and he’s slowly sliding into you in full. Relishing in the way your pussy spread out to make room, cooing over the feeling of himself going deeper, deeper, and fucking deeper into you. 

“Finally.” He breathes out in relief when he bottoms out, leaning forward yet again to lay his lips against your forehead. “Felt like I’ve waited so long.”

You’re silent as you adjust to what you can consider the biggest cock you’ve ever taken. The searing pain isn’t much compared to the arousal of his admittance of wanting this only after getting inside of you. 

All you can offer him is a moan when you try to respond with your own witty sex talk, but he sends him spiraling somehow further than he already had gone. His hips stuttering in their planted spot as he lets you adjust, moaning in response to your moan. His lips kissing all over your face now, feeling in this moment that you’re his, and this feeling is shared, and that only your pussy could massage him this way simply because he’s inside of you. It’s overwhelming, all of the feelings hitting at once.

From physical feelings to emotional ones, it comes with such a harsh hit to him that all he can do is flutter those kisses to as much skin his lips can reach. Feeling your eyelashes on his cheek when he kisses the corner of your mouth, to feeling that corner of your mouth open in a yelp when he finally starts to move his hips back. Sliding out of you only a little bit before pressing back in again, deep and lazy.

“Good?” He asks, much like he did before. “So good.” He answers for both of you immediately after, keeping that lazy pace as he leans on his elbows on either side of your head. 

“Wrap your legs around me?” He follows up, already so comfortable speaking through your silence that it feels natural, especially when you do just as he asks.

In wrapping your legs around him, he’s able to adjust his body from the position he’s been stuck in this whole time. Now, he can be on his knees with you curled under him, clinging to him like a koala as he uses the back of the couch to support his balance. 

There, he’s able to pick up pace, there he’s able to see what you look like when you’re being fucked. There, he can see what you look like when he’s the one doing it. And he might be spiraling, but he feels more sane than he ever has in this moment, watching your lips and feeling you squeeze around him.

It’s no wonder he felt no interest in finding someone else. He was more satisfied jerking on in front of you than he had ever been actually inside of another person. Now though, it’s insane to think he was satisfied because he’s changed his mind. Why would he find someone else when you act like this? 

Why would he put himself through the possibility of you going out and doing the same thing with someone else? 

For you, there are no thoughts, just Seokmin. You’d laugh right now if it weren’t for the fact that each thrust forces a desperate and wet sound out of your throat. You’d laugh harder if it weren’t for the fact that you don’t even need to rub your clit to get yourself there.

He easily hits that soft spot inside of you, time and time again as his lips travel over repeated areas until landing on your mouth.

You kiss him harder than before, now trying to move your hips despite the difficulty of being under him. You try to meet him halfway now that he’s sliding nearly his entire cock out before slamming back into you. Emptying you and filling you up time and time again as if to remind you of the few moments before when you felt him for the first time. 

Repeatedly you think you’re about to come, and repeatedly you hold off until he whispers.

“I know that face, you’re holding back.”

It’s so fucking surreal knowing that he knows this without ever actually fucking you before now. He knows what you look like when you come, he knows how you like to be touched after watching you so many times. He knows where you sleep, knows what your favorite foods are, and showers in the same bathroom as you. 

You let go, thinking of only him and this moment you’re sharing. You don’t worry if it’ll ever happen again, because you know it will if he lets it. You’re not in control of this anymore, nor of yourself. 

“Pretty, like always.” He compliments when you make that familiar face of release, pumping into you faster now just to feel the gush of wet he’s seen leave your body time and time again. “Prettier now, though.” He corrects himself, feeling just what he was expecting as your body releases the tension all at once. 

The wet sounds somehow become wetter as he thrusts, still fluttering those kisses across your face to the point that you’re either numbed to it or tingling because of it. And only after he knows you’re finished does he pull out, fucking against his hand so aggressively that you’re more aware now than before that he always lets you finish first if not at the same time.

Except now, if he were to finish at the same time, he’d be filling you up so that there’s no question about the worry that comes after it. Despite knowing you’re on birth control, despite knowing you’re both clean because neither of you have fucked another person in half a year–

You watch with drowsy eyes as he releases strings of thick, white seed against both your pussy and stomach. Your panties, ruined and forgotten as they strain at the crease of your thigh. You whimper at the sight, so in love with the way it feels hitting you for some reason. So endeared with the way he pulled out despite knowing in his head that it would have been fine if he stayed. 

When he flops down over you, ignoring the mess between your bodies, you’ve never felt so close to him. You don’t think you ever want to feel further from him, actually. 

It’s the start of something else now, you’re not sure what, but it’s a given.

~

The start of something new came in the form of his room turning into a guest room for a new roommate. 

That roommate has yet to be found, but it’s an excuse to sleep next to him every night. No titles have been claimed but they’re definitely been given. Just a day after that happened, you caught him slipping and calling you his girlfriend. He figured that since you didn’t correct him, it must be true.

Yeah, it must be. 

#seokmin smut #seventeen smut #lee seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #svt smut

[nwjws]

(TEASER) WAIT FOR YOU TO LIKE ME AGAIN - LSH

READ HERE

; SYNOPSIS - whether it be in the middle of the halls or during his election speech, heeseung's never passed up an opportunity to ask you out on a date. although you've always said no, that hasn't stopped the boy from trying again anyway - at least until senior year, when he suddenly stopped pursuing you, to your (and everyone's) bewilderment.

; PAIRING - heeseung x fem!reader

; TAGS - teaser, one-shot, high school au, president!heeseung, vice president!reader, one-sided enemies to lovers

; WARNINGS - none for the teaser. warnings for the actual one-shot will be mentioned beforehand.

; WC - 389 words. fic is estimated to be 10k+

; WHEN? hopefully by APRIL 17! comment or send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist 🫶

you hated lee heeseung.

throughout the three years you've known him, he's been always the bane of your existence. the boy was constantly bugging you and pulling a new stunt every time to show off and get your attention. all this to ask you out on a date practically every week since the age of fourteen.

seriously, after a hundred 'no's you'd think he'd learn to back off, and yet, he was still persistent in pursuing you.

at least, until your final year began.

see, you two were competing against each other for student council president towards the end of the previous year. despite this, he still insisted that you go out with him throughout the election.

the worst part of the elections was that he was immensely popular (aka. he was an actual threat). on top of being the captain for boys' volleyball team, he was class rep and actively helped out teachers after school. students and teachers alike were drawn in by his hardworking yet casual nature, and how easily he talked to others. it didn't help that during the final election speeches, he had so graciously ended it with "and aren't all these qualities worthy of at least one date?"

of course he still managed to make such a serious event about asking you out. whoops and cheers echoed the hall, with almost everyone looking at you. everyone knew your history, with half the school on his side, cheering him on and urging you to say yes.

thankfully, the other half of the student body understood that no means no, and were more sympathetic towards you.

yet, it was his last sentence that won the people over, and he'd been voted as the president, with you as vice.

"just say yes, one date won't hurt," ningning had chuckled when you groaned about it again to her after she came back from her summer camp.

"yes it literally will? my pride and reputation of always saying no will eat me before i ever agree."

"maybe he'll back off if you do?"

"no number of rejections has stopped him, how would a 'yes' do that?"

"maybe he'll realise you're absolutely undateable," she laughed at you, which had you throwing a pillow at her in retaliation.

you scowled at her before pulling out your phone and finding heeseung's instagram.

; TAGLIST (closed!) perm. @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii @haechansbbg @gweoriz @maoyueze @manooffline @chocwo @yizhoutv @isawritesss @bobabunhee @rikibun @wonniversity networks. @kflixnet @k-films @/k-labels

; AUTHOR’S CORNER! comeback fic 😝🤞icbb to say more

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ mi's works #kflixnet #k-labels #k-films #enhypen #enhypen x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen heeseung #heeseung fic #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines #ੈ♡˳ wait until you like me again

[mikavlcs]

Ricochet

Pairing(s): Wednesday Addams x fem!telekinetic!reader, platonic!Bianca Barclay x reader

Summary: An outburst ruins Wednesday’s relationship with you. The journey to reconciliation is long and hard, but she eventually finds her way there

Warnings: same as last time, ooc!wednesday

Word count: 6.2k

Notes: here is the semi-highly requested wednesday pov of my first story! i recommend reading the first part because i skim over some events to avoid repetition. hopefully you guys enjoy<3

Masterlist | Reader’s Pov

Wednesday was furious. No, she was well beyond fury at this point.

There wasn’t a word in any man-made language that could describe how fucking angry she was.

She had been throwing herself into her investigation for months now to try and find her stalker. He disappeared after the initial text at the end of her first semester, reappeared at the beginning of the second semester to taunt her for a few days, and now he had gone silent again.

Months of searching for clues and chasing leads only for them to go cold. Months of intellectual and emotional turmoil for absolutely no results. It was taxing.

Tonight was her last chance. The only hint she had left about her stalker’s identity. And it was a dead end. She had hit another brick wall while her stalker undoubtedly laughed from the shadows.

Her frustration couldn’t be put into words. It could only be felt as she stomped through the halls to her dorm. She could tell Thing felt it too by the way he lay still in her bag as if any movement would set her off. For all she knew, it would.

Her dorm came into view along with your withdrawn form. Instinctively, her eyes were drawn to your face, and she could tell by the drooping of your eyes and furrow of your brows that something had happened. Any other day she would be more than willing to listen to you and offer what little comfort she knew how to give, but right now she wanted to do anything but.

Electing to ignore you, she entered her dorm and threw her bag to the floor, barely registering Thing scampering off to her closet. The soft click of her door closing told her that you had followed her inside. Her fists clenched.

She wanted—no, needed you to leave. The white-hot anger in her chest was building steadily and she felt like a ticking time bomb. Any little thing would be enough to make her explode, and she wasn’t sure what she would do in the aftermath.

She prayed you would just leave her to suffer through her failure alone but you were far too kind for that. Instead, you spoke up.

“Do, um… do you need anything?”

During the many times Wednesday looked back at this moment, she could never pinpoint what exactly it was about the question that upset her. All she knew is that it was enough to detonate her.

The outburst itself was hazy to her, even while it was happening. She vaguely remembered turning around and yelling, but mostly she recalled the rush of relief she felt after expelling so much anger, how much lighter she felt.

But the moments afterward, she could still see clear as day.

The shock on your face, and the unmitigated hurt that crept in after. The tears in your eyes. The way her own relief mutated to horror when she realized what she had done.

She had turned her own world upside down in mere moments and she couldn’t collect herself enough to right it before you rushed out the door.

The only thing she could do was call out your name before the door slammed shut.

Wednesday was frozen. Somewhere, she could hear Thing feverish tapping something to her, but she paid him no mind. She couldn’t, not with the way her thoughts were racing. A million different things ran through her mind, but one thought kept rising to the surface.

She had hurt you.

She hadn’t meant to, but intentions meant nothing in the aftermath of a tragedy. And now she had to face the consequences.

-

Sleep eluded her completely that night.

She laid in bed for what felt like an eternity, replaying your conversation and yet it seemed as if she blinked and suddenly sunlight was shining through the window. She shook herself out of her reverie and got ready for class.

Thing was noticeably absent. He was most likely upset with her for what happened. She couldn’t blame him, not when she felt the same.

Throughout her first class, she couldn’t help but watch you. You were notably more quiet and almost standoffish, avoiding people more than usual. She hadn’t seen you smile once the whole day. It pained her to think that her words had wounded you so deeply.

She kept her eyes on you all day, monitoring you discreetly. Or so she thought. During your last class, you turned and glared at her with such rage, such vitriol that she had to force her eyes away.

She was used to being the target of people’s resentment. It usually overjoyed her to see how negatively she was able to affect people with her mere presence, but it was different this time. This time, it was you, and seeing you look at her with so much anger made something bubble up in her chest.

Guilt.

Guilt so devastating, so overpowering that she couldn’t at least try to act on it.

-

An hour was all she allowed herself before she went to your dorm.

The walk was familiar, one she could do in her sleep, but this time she was aware of every step she took. Every inch closer to you made her tenser. Her mind was turbulent, in complete disarray. She was anxious, she realized. She had no clue what she was going to say.

Thing had yet to make an appearance so she couldn’t fall back on his guidance or companionship. She was left to deal with this alone.

For the first time in her life, she had no idea what was going to happen next. And as much as she tried to deny it, that scared her.

And it turned out that she was right to be scared because you refused to listen to her. You didn’t even open the door. She couldn’t be upset with you, she knew this was her fault. But she had to try.

“Listen,” she started again, “it is truly urgent. I…”

There was so much she wanted to say but nothing came out. An apology was sitting on her tongue, waiting to be said, and yet the idea of really facing what she did and opening up to you held her back.

“Thing has something important to tell you.”

The words tasted bitter in her mouth. Shame bloomed in her stomach.

Coward.

A hard scoff sounded from the other side of the door.

“Yeah? Well, tell Thing that if he ever needs to talk about something then my door is always open to him.”

The finality in your tone told her what she already knew: she had failed.

The conversation had reached its definitive end, but she didn’t move. Her feet were planted in the hall outside your door, at odds with herself about what to do next. Part of her wanted to speak up, to tell you the truth. And yet another part of her, the one she let lead her through most of her life, wanted to just leave and avoid confronting her feelings completely.

She stood outside your door for minutes on end, a war raging between her emotions and her pride. But in the end, her pride stood victorious, and she walked away, heart heavier than it’d ever been before.

-

The following weeks were long.

She didn’t bother trying to talk to you again after her disastrous visit, knowing it would end the same way. You made it clear that you didn’t want to talk to her, so she wouldn’t force you to do so.

Despite that, she couldn’t bring herself to fully withdraw from you. After months of your constant presence, your sudden absence from her life was surprisingly difficult for her to deal with.

It felt as if everywhere she looked, there was an empty spot where you would usually inhabit. On her bed during her writing hour, the seat next to her in class, the space beside her at her lunch table—all places you should be. But you weren’t anymore.

There was an emptiness in her chest that she didn’t think even the joys of torturing Pugsley could fill.

So she resolved to keep watch over you from afar. She told herself that it was to make sure that no one hurt you or that you didn’t do anything stupid. But she knew better, and so did Thing.

He wasn’t on board with the idea at first, still mad about what Wednesday had said, but after she brought up the group of werewolves that bullied you, he hesitantly joined her. But they both knew this wasn’t about some stupid mutts.

Still though, he preferred to spend more of his free time with Enid, and she allowed it for the time being.

Enid herself had also been acting a bit differently. She was still bright, bubbly, and all-too friendly with Wednesday, but it was clear she knew something happened. The werewolf would cautiously avoid talking about you to Wednesday, quickly changing the topic whenever your name came up in conversation during lunch or class.

Sometimes, she’d catch herself staring for just a little too long and when she turned her attention back to what she was doing, she’d see Enid giving her a certain look. It wasn’t exactly pity, but it was close enough to make her vehemently uncomfortable. She tried to glare, cold and deadly, but her roommate had long since stopped being afraid of her, so she just let it be.

After school, she would look for you. Only to make sure you were safe, of course. If she wasn’t able to go for whatever reason then she sent Thing to keep an eye on you.

You spent a lot of time in the library for the first week, but then your schedule abruptly became more erratic.

She saw you head into the woods a few times after your last period and though her curiosity was peaked, she never had the heart to follow you. Some things deserved to remain private.

Days were long and arduous, but weeks passed, nonetheless.

Exactly one month after you stormed out of Wednesday’s dorm, Wednesday saw you use your powers for the first time. And it happened at lunch of all times.

She was sitting at her usual table, idly listening to Enid and her friends gossiping about something she didn’t care about. Her textbook lay open in front of her, completely neglected. She brought it along to try and distract herself from thinking about you.

Needless to say, it wasn’t working very well.

Her eyes were drawn to your solitary figure across the quad but she resisted. She had to study and she wasn’t entirely sure she could handle seeing you now. Especially given what day it was.

It had officially been a month since Wednesday’s outburst, an entire month without you.

She wished she could say it got easier with time, that the ache lessened with each day but that would be a lie. In fact, it was the exact opposite of Wednesday’s reality. Each day was more torturous than the last, the hole in my chest growing wider every day you were gone.

But she couldn’t think about that—about you now. She had studying to do. She was only two weeks ahead in her classes when she was usually at least a month ahead and that bothered her. So she forced her eyes down to the passages of text and made herself focus on her studies. And she succeeded.

Nearly.

A familiar, obnoxious voice cut through the noise, instinctively making her tense. She looked over and her fingers twitched.

Adrian. The pathetic werewolf that loved to make your life at Nevermore hell.

She couldn’t make out what he was saying but he was looming over you, his equally inept friends sneering behind him.

Her fists clenched. But they relaxed when her gaze settled on you. Because, unlike every other time she had witnessed this, you weren’t scared or resigned. No, you looked more annoyed than anything, either staring up at him blankly or ignoring him entirely in favor of your book. The sight made her brows raise slightly.

No matter how hard he tried to taunt you, you gave him no leverage—just a dead-eyed stare. Instead of just giving up, he riled up even further, his voice raising to a yell that echoed across the quad. The students began to quiet as they took notice of Adrian’s tantrum and Wednesday’s patience was quickly running thin.

She shared a look with a worried Enid, who looked ready to pop her claws out at any moment. Thing had also crawled out of her bag up onto the table, the three of them silently agreeing to step in if things went too far.

He reached for the knife on your lunch tray, and she had enough. She didn’t care if you hated her for interfering, she was going to kill him.

She went to push herself up when suddenly, Adrian froze. There was seemingly no reason for it, he simply stopped.

Puzzled, Wednesday observed the scene before her, trying to put the pieces together. They fell in place only moments later. Her mind flashed back to a few months before, when you finally mustered the courage to tell her about the powers you inherited from your parents.

Telekinesis.

You were doing that to him.

She watched as you leisurely read your book, ignoring Adrian’s friend’s pleas to let him go. The whole quad watched on as you finally stood and approached Adrian, like a predator stalking up to its prey. You threatened him like she did so many times before and she was positively mesmerized by the sight.

The boys ran off the moment you let Adrian go in a depressing flurry of cowardly panic. Wednesday felt her lips twitch.

There was only silence in the aftermath. All eyes were on you and Wednesday wondered if everyone was as entranced as she was.

You didn’t seem to care either way. You said nothing, only used your powers to put the knife back on your tray and turned back to your book. Not a care in the world for the dozens of stunned onlookers you left in your wake.

Hushed whispers began to engulf the quad as minutes passed, but Wednesday paid them no mind.

In front of her, Enid giggled and, much to her embarrassment, Wednesday nearly jumped at the sound. She had forgotten there were other people with her.

“That was amazing,” Enid gushed. A chorus of different positive answers rose from around the table and Wednesday couldn’t help but agree with them.

It was amazing. You were amazing.

Sure, she knew about your abilities, but she had never actually seen you use them—no one had until today. But now that she had, she was obsessed. That must have been why you spent so much time in the forest, she realized. To practice using your telekinesis in private. Suddenly, she wished she had followed you.

For the rest of lunch, she was left to marvel at what she had seen, dark eyes never straying from you as you read.

-

The incident remained on replay in Wednesday’s head for days.

It appeared that the rest of the school was in this predicament as well. Enid, of course, raved about your actions on her blog, informing anyone that hadn’t been in the quad of your power. Adrian and his pack of dimwits disappeared, much to Wednesday’s unending amusement.

Good riddance.

Overnight, you became the biggest gossip of the week. All eyes were on you and Wednesday couldn’t help but notice the similarities between your current situation and her when she first arrived at Nevermore.

She witnessed the students part like the Red Sea when you walked down the halls between classes. Loud conversations quieted to whispers as you passed and rose back up in volume when you left. Rumors, both bad and good, began swirling around you.

(Enid took it upon herself to try and disprove the bad ones on her blog. Wednesday just glared at anyone she heard gossiping about you. It was incredibly effective.)

The best part was that you didn’t care, at least not outwardly. Only a month ago, you would’ve hidden from this much attention, but now you seemed not to even notice. Disinterest was a good look on you, she noted.

The only downside of this was that it made any efforts to get close or approach without you instantly noticing her much more difficult. Wednesday didn’t want to risk it since she now knew that she had gotten a glimpse of your abilities.

She didn’t think you would use your powers on her, but it was still something she had to consider. So she elected to wait for a natural opportunity to get close to you.

And that opportunity came in an unexpected place: Botany class.

Wednesday despised Botany class. Both because it brought up bad memories from last semester and because the new teacher, Mr. Emerson annoyed her. Badly. His general happy demeanor and gratingly chipper voice made her want to commit unspeakable offenses. Worst of all, the overexcited imbecile loved group projects.

When he announced that he would be assigning another one, it was met with a predictable amount of displeasure from the class. Usually, Wednesday would be among them, but not this time.

One of the only tolerable things about Emerson’s group projects was his tendency to pair students with similar grades together. Given Wednesday’s immaculate grades, she was always put with someone with similar educational prospects.

You weren’t normally one of those people since you always had average grades in the subject. But your scores had risen over the semester, meaning the chances of you being paired with Wednesday were high.

Wednesday sat up straighter in her chair. This was possibly the best situation she could have found herself in now.

You being bound to her by educational obligation meant that she would be given ample opportunity to finally talk to you. It was perfect.

She impatiently waited for Emerson to announce the pairings, eyes instinctually drifting back toward your table.

For just a moment, she dared to believe that the stars would align for her here—just this once.

Then Emerson announced that you would be paired with her ex-archnemesis, Bianca Barclay.

Her jaw clenched as she stared into the space in front of her, not bothering to acknowledge her partner sheepishly approaching her table. She was foolish to waste her time with something as flimsy as hope.

She grimly watched you and Bianca nod at each other. You seemed satisfied with the news, probably because you hadn’t been paired with her.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if some part of you was as dissatisfied as she was.

-

Something unexpected happened after the project.

Wednesday had noticed you were spending time with Bianca but thought nothing of it. You two were partners after all. It was most likely just for the class project. Then, with no apparent reason to Wednesday, Bianca was suddenly everywhere with you.

She sat next to you in class, you joined her table at lunch, you could both be seen hanging around campus together after classes. She had even dropped Wednesday as her fencing partner to partner with you.

It hit Wednesday unexpectedly hard.

It was utterly maddening to watch you use your powers to get a pen Bianca dropped in class or see you laughing together without a care in the world at lunch.

And it was even worse because Wednesday knew she had no right to be upset about it. You weren’t hers anymore, so she had absolutely no say in whom you chose to spend time with. She knew that. She really did.

But something about seeing you so close to Bianca of all people—someone she couldn’t exactly call a friend but also certainly wasn’t an enemy—was too much for her.

Watching the two of you in fencing class was especially difficult. You had never been the best at fencing, having little to no interest, but now you seemed engrossed in the activity as Bianca helped you get into the on guard position. Her hands were on your arms and legs as she got you into position and Wednesday could do nothing but grip her sabre in her ire.

The other students avoided her, and they were smart to do so because she likely would have found a way to maim them now, even with their protective gear on.

She lasted about three classes before she cracked.

You were smiling and laughing in a way she hadn’t seen for nearly two months now and while she was glad to see you in higher spirits, she did not like that you were happier because of her.

As soon as the bell rang, she was on her way over to you, her determination and anger likely apparent in every step she took.

For a brief moment, your eyes met hers and Wednesday felt electricity course through her veins. It had been so long since you had truly looked at her. The eye contact was invigorating. But unfortunately, it didn’t last long because Bianca followed your line of sight and immediately jumped into action.

She watched Bianca drag you away, a new, unpleasant burning sensation making itself known in her chest. As if she had ingested acid and it was eating away at her insides slowly.

It was jealousy, she realized with an internal jolt.

She was jealous. Of Bianca fucking Barclay.

The epiphany nearly made Wednesday break out into hives. This had gone on too long, she decided. Whether you wanted to see her or not, she would find a way to make this right.

-

It took Wednesday nearly three days to reach an embarrassingly simple conclusion.

She had been searching for a previously unthought of solution. Goody was a witch, so she thought perhaps an incantation or spell of some kind would be of use.

When, in reality, the answer had been in front of her the entire time. Or, more accurately, it had been staring at her from atop her desk.

Wednesday was a writer (still unpublished, but that wasn’t important) so it made the most sense for her to translate her complex feelings into written words.

The letter took two days to finish. She dedicated as much time to it as she could, even putting aside her novel for the days it took to complete, but she struggled much more than she anticipated.

Narrating Viper’s woeful adventures and hardships was easy, but something about transcribing her own feelings and thoughts into words evaded her. It just didn’t come naturally to Wednesday, and it showed.

Countless attempts ended up crumpled in her overflowing garbage can. She grimaced at the amount of paper being wasted, but it needed to be perfect. And eventually, she wrote one that was as close to perfection as she believed possible.

The moment the letter was finished, she put it in an envelope and called Thing to help her deliver it, ignoring the inquisitive look Enid was giving her from her side of the room. She didn’t want to waste another second.

She made the trip to your dorm in record time, pausing before your door. You were rarely in your dorm after classes these days, but she wanted to be safe.

She knocked. No answer. She nodded at Thing, who was resting on her shoulder, and extended her arm for him. Thing crawled down her arm and grabbed onto the doorknob but hesitated. Wednesday gave him a look.

“You wanted me to apologize, now I’m apologizing. I’m not going to take anything, I will simply leave the envelope on the bed and we will leave. Breaking and entering isn’t even a serious crime anyways,” Wednesday muttered, fishing the lockpick out of her pocket and giving it to the appendage. “Now hurry up, we don’t know when she’ll be back.”

With that, Thing got to work, fiddling around with the tool until the lock clicked, and the door opened. He hopped off the knob as Wednesday walked inside, immediately climbing up to your bed. Wednesday took a moment to look around the familiar room.

It had been a while since she’d been there, but it looked relatively the same. Little things were moved here and there but it remained mostly true to her memory. She took a step toward your bed when something on her right caught her eye.

On the wall just above your desk was a piece of paper. It was rather crudely hung onto the wall by what looked like a pen.

The reasonable part of her told her to leave it alone, but the detective within her couldn’t dismiss a possible clue.

She crept forward and braced her hand on the wall, careful not to touch the paper as she swiftly read through its contents. The letter, it turned out, was from your parents and it was appalling. How any parent could say such abhorrent things to their child, she didn’t know but it made her want to pay them a visit and test out her favorite torture methods on them.

Wednesday read through it again, committing every word to memory to quote back when she got her hands on your parents, but her eyes kept getting caught on one word.

Pathetic.

It was repeated a few times in the letter, making it stand out but it resonated with her for another reason. Because when she read it, she was taken back to that night when she hurt you so badly and she realized why that insult made her pause.

She had said that. She had called you the same thing your parents did.

Startled, Wednesday stepped back, her mind racing. This explained a lot—the recent change in your behavior, your willingness to use your powers, why you avoided Wednesday so intensely.

Suddenly, the letter in her hands felt inadequate. With this new information in mind, Wednesday made a decision.

“Change of plans. We’re leaving,” she marched to the door, envelope held so tightly in her grasp that it began to crease. Thing remained on the bed, confusion apparent in his stance. Wednesday looked back, exasperated. “I will tell you what’s going on later. Come on.”

Thing hurried off the bed and over to Wednesday, taking his rightful place on her shoulder as she walked out of your dorm.

Enid was gone when she reentered their dorm, likely off with Yoko and Divina. Wednesday was admittedly thankful for her absence. As much as she had grown to care for the multi-colored werewolf, she could still be a lot at times and she needed peace right now.

Silently, Wednesday stationed herself in her chair in front of her typewriter. Thing jumped off her shoulder and rounded on her, about to ask what was going on, but one look at her face had him running off to her bed.

Wednesday never liked unexpected developments in her cases and that remained true now. Your parents’ letter took her completely by surprise. It recontextualized everything.

The damage she had done was unforeseeable and she saw now that a letter alone, no matter how beautifully written, would be insufficient. You deserved more than a piece of paper after what she’d done.

Wednesday looked down at the envelope in her hand. It contained so much of how she felt and yet it simultaneously said so little in the grand scheme of things.

Because even apart from her regrets, she had so much she wanted to tell you now. She wanted to tell you how proud she was to see you stand up to Adrian and his friends, how incredible your abilities were, how good you looked while using them. But before she could do any of that, she knew she owed you an apology—a real one.

One delivered from her own mouth rather than through stationery.

But you were still avoiding her like the black plague. Approaching you herself had already failed. Deep down, she knew what she had to do. If she wanted an audience with you, she would have to do something she despised.

Ask for help.

-

A firm knock cut through the silence of the hallway.

Wednesday waited patiently, sparing another look around the corridor to make sure nobody she knew was around to see her. The sound of approaching footsteps brought her attention back in front of her.

The door opened to reveal a casually clothed Bianca Barclay, whose expression instantly hardened at the sight of Wednesday.

“What the hell do you want, Addams?” Bianca asked, an aggression she hadn’t been on the receiving end of since her first semester present in her tone. Wednesday paid no mind to it.

“I have an important matter to discuss with you.”

Bianca laughed. “No.”

The siren began to shut the door but Wednesday shoved her foot in the doorway to prevent it from closing.

“Move, Wednesday.”

Bianca tried to kick her foot out of the way. Wednesday didn’t budge.

“No. I need to talk to you,” Wednesday said, moving to make eye contact with the taller girl once more. Bianca tried to push the door closed. When she gained no traction, she sighed.

“You’re not going to leave me alone about this are you?”

“No,” Wednesday deadpanned.

Bianca stared for a moment, then opened the door. Wednesday strode inside and stood by Bianca’s desk, hands poised behind her back as Bianca sat down on her bed.

“What do you want, Wednesday?”

“I have a feeling you already know what I’d like to discuss with you,” Wednesday stated, unblinking eyes boring into her former adversary. Bianca was giving Wednesday a hard glare. Not nearly menacing enough to compare to Wednesday’s own, but an admirable effort, nonetheless.

“You know she doesn’t want to see you.”

“I simply need to speak with her.”

Bianca snickered mirthlessly. “Yeah, because that went so well the last few times, right?”

Wednesday bitterly swallowed the myriad of insults on her tongue. She supposed she deserved that. And pissing Bianca off further wouldn’t help her case.

Bianca was about as resistant as Wednesday expected her to be. The siren was almost as stubborn as she was.

The logical part of her knew what needed to be done, no matter how much she dreaded it. In order to get her counterpart to listen, she would have to do something downright deplorable: tell Bianca the truth.

She took a deep breath. God, emotions were embarrassing. But even just the chance to talk to you again made it worth it, so she pushed the lingering humiliation down and opened herself up. Just a little bit.

“Listen, I know that I hurt her badly. What I did—what I said has haunted me in the weeks since it happened. My intentions are not nefarious. I truly just want a chance to apologize to her in person,” Wednesday’s fists clenched, fighting every instinct to roll her eyes as she forced out a final, “Please.”

Bianca stayed silent even after Wednesday finished her plea. Seconds turned to minutes and Wednesday was nearly about to walk away when Bianca sighed and pulled out her phone. Wednesday’s brows furrowed, curiously regarding the siren as she typed something out.

Bianca set her phone down and met Wednesday’s questioning gaze. “I asked her to meet me at the library tomorrow at 4:30. You better give her the apology she deserves.”

“I will,” Wednesday asserted, resolute. Bianca nodded.

“Good. Now get out, I have things to do besides listen to your begging.”

Wednesday’s jaw clenched, but she spun on her heels without comment. She paused by the door, turned back. “Thank you, Bianca.”

Surprise flashed in the siren’s eyes but her expression remained stony. “This is your only chance, Addams. If you fuck it up, I’m not helping you again.”

Wednesday gave her a sharp nod and left the dorm.

-

Wednesday was at the library thirty minutes before your scheduled meetup.

She tasked Thing with keeping the door locked and standing guard. Wednesday herself lingered behind some shelves in a corner of the library, awaiting your arrival.

The seconds felt like hours as she stood in waiting, the hard bookshelf against her back grounding her. She felt as if all of her nerve endings were attached to live wire. Wednesday couldn’t remember the last time she was this nervous about anything. Perhaps she never had been.

You showed up at 4:20, early as always. She used the extra ten minutes to further prepare herself for the conversation. She couldn’t mess it up this time. This was her only shot.

At exactly 4:30, she walked over and revealed herself to you.

It started as catastrophicly as she feared it would, but somehow, she got you to stay. You gave her five minutes of your time and she wasn’t going to waste it.

So she swallowed her pride, tore down her walls, and apologized to you with everything she had. Her speech went above and beyond what she initially wrote out. Once she started, she just couldn’t stop. The floodgates were open, and all of her emotions came pouring out to you.

By the time she was finished, she could only hope that she didn’t go over the allotted five minutes.

You were quiet after she finished speaking, enough to daunt her. She offered you an out, convinced you would take it and never talk to her again. But that wasn’t what happened.

Against all her expectations, against all odds, you forgave her.

One more chance was what you told her and she took those words to heart. This was her last chance and she refused to squander it.

In the moment, she had no real reaction to your forgiveness, she couldn’t muster one truthfully. The intense bout of emotional honesty had drained her. When she finally regained a modicum of her composure, she hesitantly wrapped her arms around you, resting her head over your heart.

Later, she would be embarrassed by the tears that gathered in her eyes when she felt you return the embrace, but in the moment she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The feeling of your arms around her erupted a wildfire within her and for the first time in months, she basked in the flames.

-

Eventually, she let go of you and you both reluctantly left the library with promises to see the other the next day.

Thing eagerly approached her the moment she opened the door, tapping out “what happened?” the whole way back to her dorm but she stayed quiet.

Expelling so many emotions in such a short amount of time drained her. She decided to just tell Thing and Enid at the same time so she wouldn’t need to talk any more than she had to.

Enid was ecstatic that you were back on good terms, as was Thing. The hand wasted no time scurrying off to your dorm, giving Wednesday a gentle pat on the way out. Enid on the other hand jumped on Wednesday, wrapping her in a tight hug. Wednesday rolled her eyes but allowed the contact. If Enid noticed the extra five seconds Wednesday waited before shoving her off, she didn’t say anything.

The next day, she woke feeling lighter than she had in a while.

It was a Tuesday so unfortunately, your schedules didn’t intersect much. She went about her day as usual, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit distracted.

She was finally on her way to lunch—on her way to see you—when someone fell into step beside her.

‘I heard your talk went well,” Bianca said, perfectly matching her strides. Wednesday nodded.

“Indeed. I suppose I should thank you again for your assistance.”

Bianca said nothing. The siren stopped just before they reached their destination, pulling Wednesday to a halt as well. Wednesday looked up at the taller girl questioningly.

“I’m happy for the both of you. Really, I am. But, Wednesday, if you hurt her again, I will use my siren song and make you tear your heart out of your chest with your bare hands.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched, slightly impressed by the threat. She stepped toward the siren.

“If I ever do, I will tear it out myself. No siren song required.”

Bianca stared for a long moment then nodded, and they went their separate ways.

Wednesday stepped into the quad and saw you at her table, listening to Enid’s overly excited rambling about something. Thing sat on the table between you two, apparently also invested in whatever gossip was happening.

Your eyes met hers over Enid’s shoulder and you gave her a small smile as she rounded the table and settled in her usual spot beside you.

“Wednesday,” Enid exclaimed in greeting, “you’re finally here! You have to hear about the drama going on with the Fangs. It’s insane. I’m working on a post for it now-“

Wednesday immediately tuned her out, instead focusing on the way your thigh lightly pressed against hers. Her eyes were drawn to the hand resting in your lap. She fought the urge to reach for it, not wanting to cross any boundaries.

You saw her eying your hand and subtly placed it on your thigh. An offer. Wednesday graciously accepted, gently linking your pinkies, the ghost of a smile on her face.

It wasn’t the same, and it likely wouldn’t be for some time, but what mattered was that you were back by her side. And as long as Wednesday could help it, you would never leave it again.

#take a shot every time i use the word watch #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x you #jenna ortega

[piratefalls]

new list, new year, (trying out a) new header, new post day. i'm back after a nice little vacation where i got almost zero reading done, so no one is more surprised by the amount of holiday fic here than me.

list one. list two. list three. list four. list five. list six. list seven. list eight. list nine.

No Consequences by AnchoredArchangel

"I sort of came out as bisexual to both Nora and myself when we were watching that fucking snoozefest of a Royal Wedding years ago, and I told her with no hesitation that you were on my list.” Suddenly, Henry looks very present in this previously one-sided conversation, eyes boring into him even if he sounds a little choked as he clarifies, “I was on-” “My No Consequences sex list,” Alex confirms brazenly, “Yeah." Or: During an inadvisable spot of dating years back, Alex and Nora made a game out of making extensive lists of celebrities they could hook up with without it being cheating. One breakup and several years later, Alex meets someone on his list for the very first time at a charity gala and decides it's appropriate to tell him all about it.

Wash a Bad Day Away by stellarmeadow

Alex has a bad day and needs to drown it in a tub.

this year I will fall by railmedaddy

Henry has many regrets in his life, but leaving the ice rink after a literal run in with the potential love of his life without even obtaining his name may be his biggest. With his family visiting for the holidays for the first time and ever-present work deadlines looming, he's too busy to think about how to engineer his own happy ending worthy of the novels he edits. But what if fate has other ideas?

the mountchristen pharma job by coffeecatsme

The alarm blares. Still, the man slides the key again and enters the room. He closes the door behind him, flips the flash drive in his palm. Walks to the room that’s supposed to be empty, the room they made sure was clear before they made their move. Except it’s not. And the man recognizes that head of blonde hair all too well. Henry fucking Fox-Mountchristen. Six years ago, Mountchristen Pharma's reckless actions caused Rafael Luna's death. Alex and June want to make it right, but they're not the only ones.

Take a Trip Into My Garden by @sparklepocalypse

Alex groans. From the sound of things, he’s in no better state than Henry. “Why in the absolute fuck does your family have a fucking Viagra orchid?” (A sex pollen fic that takes place on the grounds of Kensington Palace between the Cornetto scene and the interview blitz.)

you could call me babe for the weekend by weather_stained

It's been three years since Ellen Claremont lost the 2016 Presidential Election, and Alex hasn't seen Prince Henry since the Rio Olympics. When Alex, June, and Nora take a post-finals trip to a Vermont ski resort, Henry and his best friend Pez are the last people they expect to see waiting in line for the chairlift.  To Alex's great displeasure, Nora and June end up quite takenwith Pez, and Alex is forced to spend time with Henry. In one weekend, they become closer than he could have ever imagined.

come away with me by rizcriz

Alex closes the door behind himself and turns into his tiny apartment with an exhausted sigh. As he turns to flip the lightswitch, the subtle sound of fabric rustling hits his ears; carefully, he unclips his gun at his waist band, flips the light switch, and turns around, pulling the gun on the intruder. He nearly drops it at the sight of a familiar head of shining blond hair. “What the fuck?” Alex asks, taking a step in, and reaching with his free hand into his holster for the pair of cuffs he knows he clipped in this morning. “Intel said you were in London.” Henry Fox, international thief and conman, tilts his head where he’s sitting in Alex’s favorite armchair. “Honestly, Alex,” he says, waving a hand. “Put the gun away. We both know you’re not going to shoot me.” “Fuck you,” Alex hisses on impulse. “Put your hands up.” -- or Con Man Henry and Interpol Agent Alex

(Dil)Do It Yourself by happinessofthepursuit

“Listen,” Nora starts, turning her body once more so that she’s sitting sideways in the chair with her legs thrown across the armrest. “I did the math. There’s a 79% chance you’re gonna become a slut to the power of the prostate, and while we’re not dating anymore, it’s my duty as your fellow slutty bisexual to get this party started.” Or, when Nora drags Alex to a holiday dildo workshop, he doesn’t expect to find someone to use it with.

Gonna Give You Something (So You Know What's on My Mind) by affectionatelyrs

Alex hums, turning around to pull open the freezer drawer. “You want anything?” But Henry barely registers his question. Not when Alex is slightly bent over, allowing Henry a perfect view of his perfect ass. Each individual ridge of his spine is visible due to his lack of shirt. All of these things combined would normally be a large enough issue in itself to render Henry dumbstruck, except— Except, that’s not the only thing that Henry’s faced with. Right there, clear as day: blue lace, delicately peeking out from the waistband of his joggers. Henry’s hand immediately flies up to his cheek. The skin is hot to the touch, and he feels the imprint of where the material once lay like a brand. - Or, With the help of a white elephant gift, Henry learns that maybe the whole being-in-love-with-his-roommate thing isn’t as one-sided as he thought

i've forgotten if they're green or they're blue by metacrisis

When the worst snowstorm New York city has had since the Great Blizzard of 1947 snows Alex and Henry into their Brownstone, Alex falls into a bizarre dream and awakens in a world much like his own. Only it seems like he's suddenly five inches shorter, five years younger and why is Henry the only person who can tell? AKA, Movie Alex falls into Bookverse before he and Henry get together.

Ho for the Holidays by @whimsymanaged

“Listen, don’t worry about this,” Henry says quickly, already mentally crafting the passive-aggressive text he’s going to send Pez. “Better luck next year. I’ll just be off—“ “Hold your damn horses.” Alex stops Henry with a fast, surprisingly gentle hand to his wrist. His eyebrows furrow. “What did you put on your questionnaire?” Henry’s ears go hot. “That’s none of your business.” Alex scoffs and leans in closer. “Baby, we matched. It’s safe to say we have at least some interests in common. Be honest—was it because you confessed to having a secret desire to slap me?” Or, Pez organizes an event called Ho for the Holidays, and these two idiots get paired up.

Waiting in the Wings by DracoWillHearAboutThis

Henry had always known he would end up in an arranged marriage.  He had not expected, though, to end up in an arranged marriage with Prince Alex Claremont-Diaz, who he'd secretly been in love with for the past fifteen years.

Fill My Stocking by songliili

Alex has spent the past fifteen minutes talking with David about his favourite treats. Not that the dog answered, but Alex was undeterred and kept going, uncaring that Henry had asked him to give him an hour and then he’d join him in hanging up fairy lights and mistletoe everywhere. Very well. If Alex wants Henry’s attention, he'll have it. It's probably not what Alex thought he’d accomplish with his little scheme, but it's a compromise between Henry's needs and Alex's wants, and that's all that can be done. OR: Alex wants some attention and Henry has to get creative.

Here With Me by SatinBirds

When Zahra asks, “Would it make any difference at all if I told you not to see him again?”, it’s the easiest thing for Alex to categorically answer, “No.”

because it's Tuesday by headabovethewater

Right, so, here’s the thing; Alex hasn’t shaved in a while. He’s been so consumed by stress for his exams, his thesis, the post-election work he’s been doing for Ellen… It’s been a bit much for Alex, and while Henry is impressed by the fact that he’s able to keep himself standing and functioning, he has noticed that the scruff on his face has increased. A lot. Oh, Henry has noticed, alright.

i want to mark my skin (it is paper thin) by violetbaudelairequagmire

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subj: Tattoo Reference Attached: 1 file (orionsketch.jpg) Hello, Attached you’ll find a line art drawing of the constellation Orion. The shoulder blade is the intended location. Best, H.J. Fox OR: It's a Tattoo Shop AU!

Can't Buy Me Love by everwitch

Alex is a high end escort. Henry is his wealthiest client. He's also a total asshole, which Alex has zero patience for. He'd never let a client walk all over him like that, not even one with striking features and an air of firm authority that Alex has to keep reminding himself he’s not attracted to. But over time, Alex learns there's more to Henry than fiery insults and cruel dismissal. So much more. Alex is in so much fucking trouble. He should end things with Henry before he gets burned. (He couldn't end things with Henry if he got paid for it.)

He Was Here With Me by absoluteaudacity

Arthur lives: a wishlist

(Door)Dash to the Heart by bleedingballroomfloor

The man looks up when Henry opens the door. "Henry?" Henry clears his throat. "That's me," he manages. "Cool," the man says. "You're making me hungry for breakfast with this order, man. Which is bad for me, because my breakfast is usually just coffee, and there's no way I can drink that this late." "Uh," Henry says. He's pretty sure dashers don't talk this much during orders. "Anyway," the man says, handing the bag of food to Henry, "enjoy your night." Five times Henry gets late-night food from his insanely hot DoorDasher Alex, and one time they get food together at a normal time.

(here's my number) so call me, maybe by villageidiot

"I could go a few days without contact, you know." Henry looks over at Alex, who's splayed across the couch, and places a finger on the page he's reading to keep his place. "I'm…sorry?" "While you're gone, I mean. I could handle a few days of not talking to you." Henry still looks a little baffled. "Is this something you want to do? I'm still unclear on the 'why' here." And so is Alex, honestly. or: five times Alex fails at the whole "go a whole weekend with no contact" thing (and one time Henry does)

the beagle, the ghost and the wardrobe by stutteringpeach

Henry’s new flat comes with one unexpected feature: it’s already inhabited. But not by a human. By a ghost.

Night Class by OrchidScript

Alex how found the simplest solution for all the facts he had been presented. There were plenty of them to make sense of. Alex was taking the path of least resistance, accepting that whatever remained after all was stripped away must be the truth. June could laugh at him for the rest of time if she wanted. He was right. He knew he was right. He had to be right because nothing else on earth or in the universe made sense. Henry Fox — his smarmy, entitled, wealthy, bland, irritating neighbor — was a vampire. Alex knew it. He could prove it.

Piss-up in a brewery by clottedcreamfudge

"I hate this," Alex says, not for the first time, and Henry covers his face with his hands. "Yes," he says, a little muffled, "that's coming across." "It's not, like, personal," Alex clarifies, even though it fucking is. "I just don't really like sleeping with other people. I mean, sleeping in beds with other people. I like having sex-" "Yes, alright," Henry says peevishly, not moving his hands at all. "You needn't extol further on your love of intercourse." "Who the fuck talks like that?"

Sleepless Nights by stripyjumpers

Henry's insomnia has been getting worse. He thinks it's fine, until it all finally catches up to him.

move fast (and keep quiet) by HypnosTherapy

Henry’s smile goes slightly strained at the edges. In his ear, Nora hisses at Alex to walk away. He firmly ignores her. “What brings you here tonight, Foxy?” Henry brushes Alex’s hand off him. “The same thing that brings us all here,” he answers. “Not only a girl’s best friend, after all.” -- Alex is a spy tasked with securing a case of diamonds being auctioned off by black market smugglers. Henry is a rival spy who happens to be tasked with receiving the same case of stones. When Henry wins the auction, Alex has to retrieve his target, no matter the cost.

Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured by myheartalive

“Fox,” he hisses through his teeth. “How about you take the tube tonight? Or go for a nice long walk?” Henry’s stunned. “Excuse me?” “Yep, I will excuse you. Now do us both a favour and find another way to get home.” — OR enemy co-workers Henry and Alex get unwillingly shoved into a cab together (and finally sort their issues out)

the best intentions by smc_27

He sees the flyer when he’s in town picking up the fabric and books June wanted from the market. Once a year. On the prince’s birthday. The chance for his one true love to rescue him from the tower. A cash prize to go along with the prince’s hand in marriage. The title of Prince Consort and a palace of their own. Alex knows himself. He knows how people are with him. He’s made people fall in love with him without even trying for it. He’s had to break hearts since he was 15 and Charlotte Marks told her father she was going to marry Alex. He can get some cloistered prince on board.

A Life, in Names by th0ughts

Macsomething continues to flounder. “I arrived just as someone came out, you see. A woman, with the hot pink jacket? I told her that I’m Roy Maclanahan—” (bingo. Henry knew it was Maclanahan.) “—here for Mr. Claremont-Diaz, I work with him you see. He invited me over, to look through some documents? And she told me that I was in luck, that he was home.  “Either way I am so sorry to have disturbed you your hi—Henry. She must’ve been mistaken. I’ll take my leave and return when your husband’s arrived.” Maclanahan is wringing his hands and looks just about a second away from nervously combusting but the entire ordeal has Henry’s face blooming in a smile.  _____ Musings of a life, in four surnames.

In my dreams (In your dreams) by lizzie_bennetdarcy

He opens his mouth to tell Alex it's fine, they can stay, when Alex shakes his head. "The room is spinning. That's not fun. Alright, sweetheart, let's go home." He jumps up from the stool, and immediately lists sideways into Henry. "What will it take to get you to carry me home?" "More than you're prepared to give, I'm afraid." Kiss me, marry me, have my children, please. Alex is very drunk, and very affectionate, and it's becoming increasingly difficult for Henry to pretend like he isn't completely in love with him.

when he breaks so beautifully by viciouslyqueer

Henry thinks it’s just been a rough day – it certainly wouldn’t be the first time – but he only realizes just how wrong he is when his boyfriend actually gets home. Slumped shoulders. Twitching fingers. Red-rimmed eyes glistening with tears. Henry’s heart breaks on sight. — Alex has a rough day at work and asks Henry to be mean to him. Henry praises him instead.

Twenty Seven Batters by politics_and_prose

A ballplayer will refuse to stop playing because they want one more hit, steal, strikeout. One more homerun. One more win. So they get old and they lose their skill and embarrass themselves long after they should have hung up their spikes. If that’s the rule, then Alexander Claremont-Diaz is the exception. Because today, at age 38, Alexander Claremont-Diaz is six outs away from a perfect game.

forever yrs, for evermore by indomitablelove

‘Wake up,’ Henry whispers. Alex turns and squints his eyes open. He looks at the clock. ‘Baby, why the fuck are you waking me up at six am? I’m on vacation.’ ‘I’ve got a surprise, come outside. You can go back to bed after, I promise,’ Henry tells him with a smile. ‘I’ve made you coffee.’ Alex sits up with a squint and a stern, unimpressed look on his face. ‘You better have a fucking good reason for getting me up at sunrise.’ --- or, a lake house proposal fic

Aged Like a Fine Wine by allmylovesatonce

At a gala for the Okonjo Foundation, Senator Alex Claremont-Diaz runs into Prince Henry of Wales for the first time in two years. Something is different about him, and it's not just the revelations that came out the last time the two saw each other. When they're encouraged to spend more time together, it lights a spark that could send both of their lives into a tailspin. Will Alex resist the temptation or will he find the courage to pursue what he's wanted far longer than he's let himself acknowledge?

All our Sweetest Hours Fly Fastest by AHistoricDistraction

It has been three years since they were outted and Henry and Alex have finally settled into a groove that works well for them, except for the fact that it feels like they're always having to steal time together. Queen Mary constantly coming up with excuses to get Henry out of public events with Alex isn't helping, and Alex is done with it. After a long conference in Tokyo that Henry couldn't attend, Alex's flight home being delayed is the last straw and he calls Henry to say they need to figure out a better way to do this, to which Henry agrees. But fate has other ideas. Alex's flight goes missing somewhere over the Pacific, no trace of it to be found, leaving Henry and Alex's family struggling to not lose hope while unable to do anything.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged, either for author purposes or just to know when these go up! see you next tuesday!

tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels

#rwrb #rwrb rec list #firstprince #red white and royal blue #rwrb fanfiction #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor

[thatfragilecapricorn30]

laughing gas

msr, gen, humor | 1k words | ao3 | tagging @today-in-fic

Scully was in the office, catching up on some paperwork while Mulder was at the dentist. He had asked her yesterday, sheepishly, if she could drive him home after his root canal. It was so like Mulder to ask her last minute, but since it was during the workday, she didn’t have any other plans. Scully timed it so she would arrive at the dentist around the time Mulder finished up and was in recovery. He told her he was getting nitrous oxide and might be a little loopy after the procedure.

After she checked in with the receptionist, a cheerful nurse escorted her to Mulder. “Your husband’s been asking for you,” the nurse commented over her shoulder as she led Scully down the hallway.

Scully opened her mouth to correct the nurse, but then thought better of it. Most of the time, her protestations fell on deaf ears. When her and Mulder first started working together, those comments were weird, but now when someone mistook them for a couple, Scully got a little thrill, which usually turned to disappointment pretty quickly. It was what she wanted but knew she couldn’t have, so she just ignored the comments.

Mulder was in the recovery room, reclined in a leather chair, with a dazed look on his face. When he spotted Scully, he gave her a big smile. Well, as big of a smile as he could manage with a mouth full of gauze. Despite herself, Scully could feel her heart skip a beat. She knew it was the drugs, but seeing how happy Mulder looked when she walked in filled her with warmth.

“Scully!” he exclaimed; her name slightly garbled.

She made her way to his side and sat down in the small chair next to him.

“You made it!” he mumbled.

“Well, I said I would be here. It’s time to go home soon," Scully said slowly, like she was speaking to a child.

He stared deep into her eyes, his gaze a thousand yards. “You’re so pretty. You’re the prettiest princess in the castle.”

Scully wrinkled her nose. “Princess, Mulder?” She wasn’t even into princesses as a little girl and certainly not now as an adult.

Mulder appeared deep in thought and then exclaimed, “The most beautiful president America has ever elected!”

Scully had to hold back a laugh. “Yes, that’s better, Mulder, thank you.”

He kept going, “The smartest Supreme Court justice on the bench!”

This time Scully had to turn away so she could hide her laugh as a cough. She patted his shoulder, “Okay, Mulder, that’s enough for today.”

Luckily, at that moment the nurse came in with a wheelchair to take Mulder out to the car. He insisted on holding Scully’s hand during the trip through the hallway. The nurse smiled at them, still thinking they were a married couple.

“I can tell he really loves you,” she said.

Scully’s mouth dropped open, while the nurse kept going, “Some people aren’t that nice when their inhibitions are lowered. But your husband couldn’t stop talking about you and complimenting you. You're a lucky lady," she said with a wink.

A wave of affection swept through Scully. She looked down at Mulder, who seemed ready to fall asleep, and squeezed his hand. Even though his eyes were mostly closed, he still smiled and squeezed her hand back. Oh boy, was Scully in trouble now. She had been in love with him for some time now but seeing him act so sweet and happy towards her was making all her buried feelings rush to the surface in an overwhelming swarm of emotion.

Scully drove Mulder to his apartment and decided to wait around for the nitrous oxide to wear off. Who knew what kind of hijinks he would get up to without her supervision? Plus, she wanted to spend time with him and try to figure him out. In the span of a few minutes, Mulder called her smart and beautiful and whatever else he said to the nurse. Did he really think those things? Could he have feelings for her? She hoped so, because each day it was becoming harder and harder for her to hide her own feelings.

Scully let Mulder doze on his couch for a few hours, while she puttered around his place. When he finally started stirring, she brought him over a glass of water and ibuprofen since the dentist said he might experience some pain after the procedure. Mulder woke up fully and smiled at her, the same way he did earlier that day.

“How are you feeling?” Scully asked.

“Kinda tired,” he answered. “And my mouth hurts a little.”

“There’s some ibuprofen for you,” Scully pointed out and Mulder took the tablets and drank half the glass of water.

“So, I didn't say anything embarrassing earlier, did I?” Mulder asked, setting the cup back on the coffee table.

“Not really,” Scully answered, trying to hide a smile.

Mulder looked skeptical, a rare expression for him. “‘Not really’? What did I say?”

“Just that you thought I should be president. And a Supreme Court justice,” she said with a chuckle.

“Oh, is that all?” Mulder snorted, laying back on the couch. “I think just one of those jobs is more than enough. Not that I don't think you're capable, Scully.”

After a minute, he looked over at her to confirm: “So, nothing else?”

Scully decided to take a chance and said, “Well, you told the nurse that you loved me.”

Mulder shot up like a bullet. “What?!”

Scully doubled over laughing, not trying to hide it this time. “Relax, Mulder. I know it was the drugs.”

He still looked nervous. After a pause, he asked, “What if it wasn’t?’

Scully abruptly stopped laughing. “Wasn’t what?” she asked.

“Wasn’t the drugs,” Mulder responded, finally making eye contact.

“Are you being serious?”

“Well, it shouldn't be that suprising. it’s not the first time I’ve told you that,” he said.

“Yes, but you had a head injury that time,” Scully insisted. "And this time you were under the influence of nitrous oxide."

“It doesn’t mean it’s not true. And it’s a lot more than I’ve gotten from you,” Mulder pointed out. “You’ve never said anything, so I wasn’t sure…” he trailed off, looking apprehensive about what she was going to say.

Mulder was right. It wasn’t fair that she was so good at hiding her feelings that he was afraid to take a risk and tell her how he felt. Though, she thought that she had given him plenty of hints along the way. Scully got up to sit next to Mulder on the couch.

“You’re right,” she said. “I’m not good with words… and expressing things. I’m better at showing them.” Scully turned to Mulder, ready to kiss him and hoping that would convey her feelings.

As soon as she got close, Mulder leapt back. Scully was a little annoyed at the rejection.

“My mouth,” Mulder said, bringing his hand up to cover his face. “I don’t think this is a good time for a first kiss.”

Scully shook her head and laughed. Naturally, they had terrible timing. “Rain check?” she asked, starting to stand up from the couch.

Mulder tugged her back down next to him. “Where are you going? Just because we can’t kiss doesn’t mean there aren’t other things we can do.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Mulder!” she exclaimed, surprised at his forwardness.

He started cracking up at her outrage. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he insisted. “Unless…?”

She shoved him playfully and stood up. “I’m going home. We’ll talk once your mouth is healed,” she said with a smirk.

Mulder flopped back dramatically on the couch. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

And he didn't have to - she came back later that night.

#my.txf #txf fic #the x-files #txf #the x files #msr

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

By Josh Marshall

I want to return to this revelatory interview with coconspirator John Eastman, the last portion of which was published Thursday by Tom Klingenstein, the Chairman of the Trumpite Claremont Institute and then highlighted by our Josh Kovensky. There’s a lot of atmospherics in this interview, a lot of bookshelf-lined tweedy gentility mixed with complaints about OSHA regulations and Drag Queen story hours. But the central bit comes just over half way through the interview when Eastman gets into the core justification and purpose for trying to overturn the results of the 2020 election and overthrow the constitutional order itself. He invokes the Declaration of Independence and says quite clearly that yes, we were trying to overthrow the government and argues that they were justified because of the sheer existential threat America was under because of the election of Joe Biden.

Jan 6th conspirators have spent more than two years claiming either that nothing really happened at all in the weeks leading up to January 6th or that it was just a peaceful protest that got a bit out of hand or that they were just making a good faith effort to follow the legal process. Eastman cuts through all of this and makes clear they were trying to overthrow (“abolish”) the government; they were justified in doing so; and the warrant for their actions is none other than the Declaration of Independence itself.

“Our Founders lay this case out,” says Eastman. “There’s actually a provision in the Declaration of Independence that a people will suffer abuses while they remain sufferable, tolerable while they remain tolerable. At some point abuses become so intolerable that it becomes not only their right but their duty to alter or abolish the existing government.”

“So that’s the question,” he tells Klingenstein. “Have the abuses or the threat of abuses become so intolerable that we have to be willing to push back?”

The answer for Eastman is clearly yes and that’s his justification for his and his associates extraordinary actions.

Let’s dig in for a moment to what this means because it’s a framework of thought or discourse that was central to many controversies in the first decades of the American Republic. The Declaration of Independence has no legal force under American law. It’s not a legal document. It’s a public explanation of a political decision: to break the colonies’ allegiance to Great Britain and form a new country. But it contains a number of claims and principles that became and remain central to American political life.

The one Eastman invokes here is the right to overthrow governments. The claim is that governments have no legitimacy or authority beyond their ability to serve the governed. Governments shouldn’t be overthrown over minor or transitory concerns. But when they become truly oppressive people have a right to get rid of them and start over. This may seem commonsensical to us. But that’s because we live a couple centuries downstream of these events and ideas. Governments at least in theory are justified by how they serve their populations rather than countries being essentially owned by the kings or nobilities which rule them.

But this is a highly protean idea. Who gets to decide? Indeed this question came up again and again over the next century each time the young republic faced a major political crisis, whether it was in the late 1790s, toward the end of the War of 1812, in 1832-33 or finally during the American Civil War. If one side didn’t get its way and wanted out what better authority to cite than the Declaration of Independence? There is an obvious difference but American political leaders needed a language to describe it. What they came up with is straightforward. It’s the difference between a constitutional or legal right and a revolutionary one. Abraham Lincoln was doing no more than stating a commonplace when he said this on the eve of the Civil War in his first inaugural address (emphasis added): “This country, with its institutions, belongs to the people who inhabit it. Whenever they shall grow weary of the existing Government, they can exercise their constitutional right of amending it or their revolutionary right to dismember or overthrow it.”

In other words, yes, you have a revolutionary right to overthrow the government if you really think its abuses have gotten that intractable and grave. But the government has an equal right to stop you, to defend itself or, as we see today, put you on trial if you fail. The American revolutionaries of 1776 knew full well that they were committing treason against the British monarchy. If they lost they would all hang. They accepted that. They didn’t claim that George III had no choice but to let them go.

From the beginning the Trump/Eastman coup plotters have tried to wrap their efforts in legal processes and procedures. It was their dissimulating shield to hide the reality of their coup plot and if needed give them legal immunity from the consequences. The leaders of the secession movement tried the same thing in 1861.

In a way I admire Eastman for coming clean. I don’t know whether he sees the writing on the wall and figures he might as well lay his argument out there or whether his grad school political theory pretensions and pride got the better of him and led him to state openly this indefensible truth. Either way he’s done it and not in any way that’s retrievable as a slip of the tongue. They knew it was a coup and they justified it to themselves in those terms. He just told us. They believed they were justified in trying to overthrow the government, whether because of OSHA chair size regulations or drag queens or, more broadly, because the common herd of us don’t understand the country’s “founding principles” the way Eastman and his weirdo clique do. But they did it. He just admitted it. And now they’re going to face the consequences.

#us politics #news #talking points memo #2023 #op eds #Tom Klingenstein #Claremont Institute #john eastman #Josh Kovensky #Josh Marshall #jan 6 investigation #jan 6 insurrection #domestic terrorism #treason #traitors #donald trump #capitol riot investigation #Declaration of Independence

[lunafoster]

Oh No

AN: So I can’t stop thinking about them *cough* ESC 2023 contestants *cough* and this came out. I’m so sorry.

AN2: yes, I’m from Europe if anyone was wondering; also, excuse my English but it’s not my first language.

Bojan Cvjetićanin x fem!actress!reader

Surprise in the end!

Words: 1500+

Bojan couldn’t wait.

He was ecstatic, unable to keep himself still as he was being driven to the airport in Liverpool.

“Will you stop moving,” Jan sighed, nudging him with his elbow.

“He hasn’t seen her in a month, Jan,” Nace retorted, “of course he’s excited.”

He couldn’t even answer to them as his bandmates continued arguing over if he should or shouldn’t be this nervous about seeing his girlfriend again. After all, he was going to see her today, and that just made him so giddy he couldn’t focus on anything else.

The thing is, she had been away in America, filming a new TV show that would undoubtedly be loved by the public once it was out; so she couldn’t exactly accompany him in his Eurovision journey since him and his friends were elected in Slovenia.

He was so proud of her for making it into another soon-to-be hit show, but he missed her so very much during the last month. It’s true they tried calling each other every chance they had, but the time difference and their busy schedules didn’t let them be part of each other’s lives as much as they were used to.

Bojan couldn’t wait to give her the biggest hug and all the kisses he couldn’t give her when they were apart. He cringed at himself at the thought. That was disgusting.

“Hey!” A clap resounded in the air just millimetres away from his face.

“What?”

“We’re here,” Kris told him, clapping his shoulder.

He looked around. He was the only one left in the van. The Slovene swallowed thickly. Why was he so nervous about meeting her?

He walked out of the vehicle, following the rest of his bandmates inside the airport and wringing his sweaty hands together.

They had all been careful, not saying anything on social media or giving away the fact that she was coming, even if he wanted to scream it at the world. He hadn’t even told any of the new friends he had made because of Eurovision. All of this wasn’t because their relationship was a secret, it couldn’t be further from that, but they didn’t want that much attention at their first meeting in a month. One never knows how he’s going to react.

When he arrived at the correct place with his best friends, he heard Jan asking him:

“Do you know if she’s already landed?”

He shook his head and grabbed his phone, realising he had a message from two minutes ago telling him she had, in fact, landed.

He put his phone away, staring directly at the exit doors the people from her flight would be using.

“I’m taking that stupid grin as a ‘yes, she’s landed’.”

Bojan nodded but didn’t look away, his eyes stinging. He refused to blink, what if he didn’t see her?

Big groups of people started getting out through the doors, Bojan getting more anxious as time passed and she didn’t appear. What if she changed her mind, all this time away from him making her realise she didn’t need him?

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, though. He saw her, carrying her luggage around with tired eyes that changed the second they landed on him.

A big smile spread across her cheeks as she started running towards him, leaving her suitcase near the rest of his bandmates and jumping up. He started chuckling the moment he felt her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, reacting and putting his own hands below her to support her weight on him.

For long moments, they stayed like that, breathing each other in and feeling the warmth of the other’s skin on theirs; ignoring the other men’s cheers and puking sounds.

She was the first to move, removing her head from the junction between his shoulder and neck and smiling up at him with a shine in her eyes.

“Hi!”, she exclaimed.

“Hello,” he smiled back.

She noticed the soft look in his eyes, the small but genuine smile on his lips, it made the butterflies in her belly push against her skin, wanting to be able to touch him and be with him even closer than she was now.

“Are you not going to say anything about the rest of us?” Jure let out, feigning annoyance but with a huge smile on his face.

“I don’t know about that…,” she couldn’t help but match his energy, slowly getting down from her boyfriend’s embrace and going over to the guys, giving each of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Why do they get a kiss?” Bojan asked half jokingly half seriously wandering why he couldn’t get one, “I’m your boyfriend! Your boyfriend!”

“Alright, alright… don’t be a big baby, love.”

“No!”

They drowned out the sound of the boys’ whines as they did, in fact, kiss. Bojan couldn’t help but tighten his grasp on her when she started to move away from him, chasing after her lips and giving her another sweet peck before she could escape him.

When he opened his eyes, he saw hers were still closed, a pink flush dusting over her cheeks. She opened her eyes and he saw the entire universe in them. His world.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jan said, exasperated, “let’s go back to the hotel.”

“And no more kissing,” Kris added, “please.”

The couple laughed at the disgusted faces with which the rest of the group agreed, her taking his hand and following them to the van.

The rest of the day was spent meeting and getting to know the other ESC participants, as her boyfriend and his band had insisted so much in it.

They did leave her luggage in his hotel room first, but right after that they went to meet the band Voyager, and then Alessandra, Vesna, Blanca Paloma, and the rest of them.

She had had fun with all of them and sung a little of their songs with their respective artists, since she had heard them all countless times before.

The only one who she hadn’t met yet was the Finnish contestant, who she was the most curious about. She had to admit she enjoyed the vibe of his song the most (even more than her boyfriend’s, but she wouldn’t admit it to anyone), and he seemed like a great guy whenever Bojan talked about their hang outs.

Apparently, Käärijä had been gone the whole morning, no one knowing where he had gone off to at all. Her boyfriend wanted her to meet him, after all, the Finn had quickly become one of his best friends, sharing his energy and sense of humour.

“Guys!” Alessandra ran to them when they were coming back to the hotel from having lunch outside, “there’s gonna be a party today! The hotel’s throwing it for us!”

“We’ll go for sure, right?” Jure looked at his mates and the girl.

After they all agreed, Alessandra invited them for coffee and they went along with her, chatting about any topic that came to mind.

“What are you gonna wear tonight?” the Norwegian singer asked her.

“I’m not sure, I don’t think I have anything party-appropriate in my suitcase…”

“We’ll see about that, let’s go get it and to my room! I’m gonna make you look amazing!” She said excitedly, taking her hand and leading her upstairs, leaving the boys startled but laughing either way.

When it was time for the party, the girl went back to her boyfriend’s hotel room with the outfit her and Alessandra had come up with. She liked it, as it was comfortable but also dressy enough to wear to a party.

She knocked twice.

Her boyfriend opened the door, a black sweater, black jeans and black boots on.

“Oh no! They made her emo!” She said in English.

“Shut up!” He chuckled, pushing her playfully and fake-glaring at her.

She giggled and pushed him back. They ended up full on laughing in the middle of the hotel’s hallway, earning a few weird glances from people walking by.

When they calmed down enough to start talking normally again, Bojan extended his arm for her to take.

“Shall we go?” He asked in the most British accent he could muster.

“We shall,” she answered.

That’s how they found themselves having dinner with his band mates and the rest of the Eurovision contestants and technicians. Still, the Finn was nowhere to be seen.

“Have you seen Jere today?” ALIKA asked Bojan, a slight worried look in her eyes.

“Not really. I was gonna ask you the same thing, honestly.”

The Estonian singer let out a small sigh, continuing to eat while chatting away with the rest of the people at their table.

“Maybe something happened?” His girlfriend asked him, worried too after learning that no one knew where the guy was.

“We should probably check,” he replied, “when we finish, yeah?”

She nodded, going back to eat and watching her boyfriend do the same.

When the party started, Bojan and her went to the Finnish rapper’s door, knocking but hearing no response.

Giving up after a handful of tries, they went back to the party and tried to forget about it. Surely, they’d see him tomorrow, wouldn’t they?

However, tomorrow quickly turned into today when they caught a glimpse at the bowl-cut black hair and they headed towards Käärijä so that Bojan could properly introduce her to him.

“Jere! Finally man, you disappeared the whole day!”

“We go see Liverpool with my brother,” he said, smiling at the sight of the Slovene.

“That’s great!” Bojan smiled too, “you could’ve said something, though, didn’t answer my texts.”

“Sorry,” his smile turned sheepish.

That’s when he turned to her; the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, smiling at him with her eyes sparkling.

“This is my girlfriend,” his daydreaming got cut off by Bojan speaking.

Oh no.

“Hello,” he greeted, “you are beautiful,” slipped through his lips. He just had to say it, couldn’t hold it in.

Bojan huffed out a small laugh at that.

“Thanks!” She giggled cutely.

Oh no.

“I think you’re pretty cool, too!” She said in a perfect Finnish.

He was fucked.

Part 2

#eurovison song contest #esc 2023 #käärija #bojan cvjetićanin #Bojan Cvjetićanin x reader #ESC x reader #europe #singer #movie star!reader #actress!reader

[rosiegirlie]

Before You Go Performing

summary: When Billie ran away from the circus to serve as a nurse in the WAC she thought that was the end of her entertaining days. She never thought she’d be using her skills to help cheer up a flak happy John Egan, nor did she think that they’d be partly responsible for her life changing for good. // a vague 5+1 sort of deal where some intense eye contact changes everything word count: 23k a/n: I'm a woman obsessed with Rosie and this is the result ! I have more things in the works for this little universe but this is where it all starts for Rosie & Billie. It's not as historically accurate as it could be, so apologies in advance. AO3

Like most nights out with the girls Billie stuck to the walls, electing to keep to herself while the party around her raged on. She preferred the pub in town but she had to admit the officer’s club had it’s perks including more space for her to stick to herself. This was a party unlike any they’d had here on base and rightly so; it was rare a pilot got to the required twenty five missions before going home and Dye’s achievement was worth celebrating. It seemed like every possible person on base and even a couple of their neighbors showed up to join in on the affair. Even though she wasn’t feeling it herself, Billie appreciated the energy filling the air. It was a night of letting loose and living in the moment, for celebrating still being alive. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she looked onto the dance floor from her chair in the corner. 

Her best friend Barbara and their fellow nurse June were on the dance floor with men Billie didn’t recognize. Replacements. Billie hadn’t been aware a new group of them had rolled in but she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. They’d been due for a while now. She scanned the room trying to pick out more men she didn’t recognize. Her eyes came back to June and her man who was all elbows and knees. It didn’t seem like he had a dancing bone in his body but June’s face was brighter, her smile wider than Billie had ever seen. At least someone was having a good night. 

Billie took a deep swig of her drink. There was a time in her life where it would have been her out on the floor having the good night, trying to wrangle a dance partner. Billie was never the life of the party but at least she used to live a little. For some reason it was like her entire personality shifted when she joined up. 

Lieutenant Harry Crosby walked in front of her, a drink in each hand. Seeing him brought an immediate damper to her mood and she tipped her glass back to finish the last of her beer. Crosby had been one of her victims earlier that day and she wondered how bad his arm was bruising. They had been taking blood donations from the men not on mission and Billie made a fool of herself. Again. No matter how hard she tried or practiced Billie just couldn’t get the hang finding the vein in the first go. There were probably plenty on base who wanted to change their mind on donating blood when they saw she was the one working. She didn’t hold it against anyone. Billie knew she wasn’t a good nurse. She scraped by in her training and she’d been keeping her head afloat somehow but for how much longer she didn’t know. Billie’s saving grace was her CO who did her best to schedule Billie in the mornings before and during missions, any shift so she’d be done and out of the way when it was time for the real work to start. If she was lucky she’d get to help out with setting up the coffee and donuts for the Clubmobile, but more often than not it was inventory, stocking, and keeping watch over current patients. The simple things. Maybe that was part of why she didn’t feel like herself anymore. She used to hold her own but now she was the runt of the pack. It wasn’t a fun feeling. Her work was important, she understood that. She knew that there were no small parts and that things could go wrong if she didn’t take her work seriously. It was just that Billie missed having fun. There was nothing fun about the world of blood and trauma. 

Billie looked back at the dance floor. June was still in the arms of her fella, but Barbara was missing. Billie looked around and after a moment found Barbara by the edge of the dance floor practically directly across from her. It looked like she was convincing Lieutenant James Douglass to dance with her. It was an argument the two had almost every time they went out. Routine said Douglass would give in and dance with Barbara but not after she promised a kiss. Billie wondered when they pair would finally commit to something real, this game they’d been playing for months was getting old. Still, a pang of jealousy shot through Billie’s core. She wasn’t looking for anything, wasn’t looking for anyone. But maybe if she was more like other girls it would be easier to distract herself on nights like this. Luckily for Billie it was rare anyone gave her second glance.

The couple to her right had started curling in on each other and Billie figured they were about five minutes away from full on going at it there in public. To give them some privacy Billie decided to get another drink. She knew she shouldn’t but what else was she supposed to do with herself? Besides, it was time to switch back from beer to something harder. If she was going to wallow she might as well be properly smashed to set the mood. She abandoned her seat and wormed her way through the crowd to the bar. 

The only empty spot it seemed was over next to Major John Egan and Billie’s stomach flipped with nerves. Major Egan, or Bucky as she knew he preferred to be called, was a commanding presence. He reminded her of one of her old friends, Charles. Both were charismatic ladies men with a long string of scorned lovers. Both loud and rambunctious, loving to be in the center of attention. Total showoffs. But both also had the skills to match their bravado so Billie was never too bothered by the inevitable antics that followed them around. Her need for a drink pushed her forward to slide into the empty space, pushing through her nerves of embarrassing herself in front of Bucky. Luckily as soon as the thought popped into her head she dismissed it. Even if she did something silly chances were he wasn’t going to remember. And if she kept up her drinking pace she wouldn’t remember either. A win win scenario. 

“What’ll you have, ma’am?” The bartender asked.

“Two whiskeys, please. Thanks” She drummed her fingers along the counter while she waited for her drinks. As soon as the bartender set the drinks down in front of her Billie grabbed one and slammed the it back in one go.

Billie reveled in the way it burned down through her throat. It was nice to feel something. Her brother had been the one to introduce her to whiskey, way back when they were kids. He’d busted into their uncle’s stash and they managed to finish the bottle by the time they’d been caught back behind the horse stalls. Eddie swore they wouldn’t have gotten caught had Billie not gotten sick, startling one of the horses and waking up the lot of them. Their mother had been furious and took no mercy out on them by still making them go to practice bright and early the next morning. The painful practice was worth the memory now that Billie was swallowing her whiskey. The burn hadn’t gotten better over all these years which was something she was grateful for now. She needed it to still feel the same. Billie let out a cough and sucked back a hiss. It’d be a good idea go take it a bit slower with the second glass, just to be safe. She coughed again. 

“You going to be okay there, little lady?” Bucky had turned to look at her. 

“I’m fine.” she smiled reassuringly up at him. “Went down the wrong pipe is all.” 

“Happens to the best of us.” Bucky nodded and turned back to face the back of the bar. 

Billie leaned her elbows against the counter and pulled her glass closer to her. She took a sip and set it back down on the counter, taking the napkin from underneath with her free hand. Her fingers needed something to mess with. She was starting to feel a bit too much of everything. All around her people were living it up. They were dancing, laughing, smoking and drinking and whatever other vice they needed to stay sane. She wished she could be one of them. 

Now that she started thinking about her brother she couldn’t stop. So much for the party being a distraction from the letter she’d gotten that afternoon. Barbara and June had sworn the festivities would take her mind off of it but here she was. Realistically she wasn’t all that surprised that Eddie had signed up. What did hurt was that he waited this long to tell her. He was already in training to be a paratrooper, there was nothing she could do to talk him out of it. Billie couldn’t help but laugh to herself thinking about how he really was always copying her. It had been hard to leave him when she practically ran away from home, one of the hardest things she had ever done. There were some moments when she couldn’t believe she’d actually done it. She should have known that he would want to follow in her footsteps. A mix of emotions filled her when she thought about her brother. She was so proud of him she felt like she could combust and yet she didn’t think she had ever been as scared as she was thinking about him in the thick of it. Billie grimaced to herself and looked down at where she’d been ripping the napkin into little strips. Dye making it to twenty five missions was an incredible thing, Billie really was happy for him. It was just awful that they were there making such a big deal of the one success out of the hundreds they’ve lost. She thought of her brother’s odds and her stomach turned, bile rising up her throat. She coughed again and took another sip of her whiskey to chase the bile down. 

Billie’s little spiral was interrupted by Bucky saying out of nowhere, “I’d kill for something to happen.” 

She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Billie looked around to see if Bucky was really talking to her. She couldn’t remember who she saw on his other side, so maybe the comment was directed at them. Either that or talking to himself she assumed and turned her attention on her whiskey. She decided if the bartender was quick to come back around she’d order another one. Just one more and then she’d switch to water. After all she did have her normal shift first thing tomorrow morning. 

“When was the last time something happened, hmm? When was the last time you could feel something?” Bucky was looking at Billie when she lifted her head and she couldn’t help but blush a little when they made eye contact. But Bucky’s face looked off somehow and Billie felt herself sober up a little. 

“Major? Do you…” she looked around, nervous for some reason. She really didn’t know what to make of his questions. Her training hadn’t covered this sort of thing. “Are you okay?” 

“Peachy, just peachy.” Bucky turned to fully look at her now and his eyes steadied on her face. He was probably just about as drunk as Billie was. He was probably chasing off some of the same demons Billie was running from. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He shot her a look and she let out a laugh, “Silly question. Got it.” 

“What’s your name again?” 

“Billie. Billie James, Sir. I’m a nurse.” 

Bucky nodded, “I thought I’d seen you somewhere.” She highly doubted he had ever looked at her before. No one ever really looked at her anymore. Still, she appreciated the politeness. He took a drink and sighed. He turned slightly towards the bar. 

Something about how Bucky was looking unsettled Billie. She wanted to cheer him up, maybe helping him get out of himself would help her forget about her brother. What would she do if it was Charles here with her instead of Bucky? “Do you want me to go see if the band can play Blue Skies again?” 

“Mighty fine of you to ask, but no need for any special requests.” Bucky took a deep drink. 

She hummed in acceptance even though his answer worried her. It got quiet between them and Billie felt so uncomfortable she swore she was going to burn with it. It was her turn to take a deep drink.

“I’ve always wanted to juggle.” Bucky suddenly said. 

“Excuse me?” Billie was drunk, but not drunk enough to follow along with Bucky’s train of thought. He pointed at the counter in front of her. Billie had been rolling the ripped up scraps of her drink’s napkin into little balls. She picked one up and threw it at Bucky. He swatted it away. 

“I know I’m saying nonsense, can’t help it right now. I’ve seemed to have lost all filter.” Bucky gave a weak version of his normal charming smile. 

“I don’t think that’s quite true, Major. Somehow I think you’re one to never really let go of control.” She found herself rolling her eyes at him as if he really was her friend Charles. She leaned forward and craned her neck to see where the bartender was. Another drink wasn’t the smartest idea but Billie was in the mood for self destruction.

Thinking about Charles and juggling had her remembering the night Charles tried to teach her a new trick while they had been on the tail end of a bender. What a pair of drunk messes the two of them had been, the night had ended with a broken window and running away from the police. “You know, Major, I can juggle.” She blurted out. 

“You can juggle?” The disbelief was palpable in Bucky’s voice. He sounded just like so many of the boys she knew back home. All men seemed the same when they were doubting her, probably sounded the same to any woman. Oh, she was going to love proving him wrong. 

“Of course I can juggle. I wouldn’t just lie to you when you’re looking like that.” Billie snapped, taking a tone she knew in the back of her head she shouldn’t have with someone of his status. Maybe she shouldn’t be acting like he was Charles. But Billie was too far in it to stop now. 

“Looking like what?” he challenged. Already he seemed livelier. 

“Like some sad little kid who needs cheering up.” Billie said simply with a smile. 

“And what would you suggest? Are you offering to try to juggle for me?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow. 

“I won’t have to try, I can do it if I want to.” confidence filled Billie’s voice. 

Bucky laughed and tilted his head to look at Billie. “You really think you can juggle?” 

“I don’t think, I know.” She wagged a finger in his face. “And I don’t like the attitude you’re taking, Major.” She really shouldn’t be talking to him like this but they were talking about juggling and she couldn’t help but get caught up in it. She had to defend her honor. “This is just one of the countless things you men think women can’t handle.”

“I didn’t say anything of the sort!” 

“Sure,” Billie rolled her eyes, “but you were thinking it, weren’t you?” She nudged his arm with hers. “Just teasing. Now, I’ll need a lot of something if I’m going to do it. I mean, if its worth doing it’s worth doing right.” 

“Is that so? And doing it right means juggling more balls?” Bucky waggled his eyebrows at her. 

Billie smacked his arm, rolling her eyes with a groan. “Christ, Major, grow up.” she shook her head. Billie then straightened her shoulders and said, “It doesn’t have to be balls, I can juggle anything.” 

“Anything is a strong claim.” There was even more doubt now in Bucky’s eyes. 

“And guess what? It’s true.” Billie countered. 

“Well now you have to prove it, because I just can’t seem to wrap my head around this. Pretty thing like you doing something like that.” Bucky shook his head in disbelief.

“What do my looks have to do with being able to juggle?” Billie cocked her head to the side. Then she realized that Bucky had paid her a compliment and she couldn’t help but blush. Luckily at this point of being drunk Billie’s face was normally red enough to cover her blush. This was the first time she was thankful for her drunk tell. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be on the receiving end of any advance from Bucky, but it was nice to hear someone thought she was pretty. Even if they were insulting and complimenting her at the same time. 

“You just don’t seem like the type of gal who’d be able to is all.” Bucky explained simply while Billie rolled her eyes again. 

“I feel insulted but I’m going to move past it.” She finished off her drink and couldn’t help but wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. Maybe it made her look more like someone who knew how to juggle. “Let’s settle on what I’m juggling first off.” Billie looked around the room. 

There were so many things happening around her that Billie couldn’t help but feel comforted. She’d grown up somewhere like this, always loud and full of people letting loose. She was at home in the chaos, especially now that there’d been a challenge. She had her pride to protect, her honor to uphold. 

She was eyeing the group playing darts when Bucky said, “Glasses, easy.”

Billie turned her head to look at Bucky holding up her empty rocks glass. Better that than his empty pint glass. He gestured his head at the other empty glasses bunched up in front of them on the bar. Glasses, now that was an idea. Billie picked up her glass back up and gave it a light toss. Not as bottom heavy as she thought. 

She smiled up at Bucky. “Glasses are perfect. I need some sort of rag, though.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t want your backwash to make me lose my grip is why.” Billie scrunched her nose in disgust. 

Bucky let out a bright laugh. “Fair enough. How about clean glasses?” 

“Either works.” Billie shrugged nonplussed.

“How many?” 

Billie studied the glass in her hand.”How about four. Do you think I can handle four?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, lips pursed in a smirk. 

“That feels like a trick question.” Billie flashed a wicked grin in response and Bucky laughed. “Okay, you’re going to juggle four glasses. Now how about we settle some stakes and make a real bet out of this whole thing. Personally, I wouldn’t mind a kiss.” He leaned in closer to Billie. 

Billie had been expecting that and rolled her eyes with a smile. “When do you not want a kiss from someone? And I don’t want anything from you. Just to prove you wrong.” 

“You wound me!” he playfully slapped his hand to his chest. “Come on, there must be something a pretty gal like you would want from someone like me.” He leaned an arm out to rest on the bar countertop. Billie felt herself grow hot under his stare. She suddenly understood the long line of heartbroken girls she’d watched over the last couple of months. Something about Bucky was mesmerizing. She couldn’t help but think about how easy he’d be to love. 

“A pack of smokes.” She blurted out and the look of confusion that crossed Bucky’s face made her smirk. He hadn’t been expecting his subtle advance to be turned down. 

“That’s a hefty ask.”

“Then you shouldn’t make silly bets.” 

“Alright I’ll bite. You’re on, Billie. And now it’s too late to back out of a kiss when I win.” He winked at Billie then stood up from the bar counter. “Gather round now boys, our very own nurse Billie is going to put on a little show.” Bucky called out over the music. 

“Major!” Billie snapped and lightly smacked Bucky’s arm. 

She hadn’t wanted to draw that much attention to herself but after thinking about it for a moment she shrugged it off. She’d handled worse tricks in worse states. Had she really expected Bucky to keep it a quiet ordeal? There was nothing that man could do quiet. Already eyes were on her, wondering what on earth she could do to entertain them. She started to feel hot, the skin on the back of her neck itching where it rubbed against her jacket. She needed to cool down and get out of her jacket even if just for a minute. She straightened herself up from leaning against the bar.  

“I’m going to get myself sorted then I’ll be over to prove you wrong, okay?” she gestured her head to the bathroom.

“We’ll see about that.” Bucky grinned at her as he gave her a nod.

By some miracle the bathroom was empty when Billie entered. Immediately she took off her jacket and began to fan herself. She needed to cool down. Billie looked at herself in the mirror and was suddenly struck by trying to picture herself from an outsider’s perspective. Small, red faced, long mousy brown hair that was starting to escape the sculpted curls the girls had worked so hard on. Barbara was going to be so sad her work was for naught. Billie itched to tie it all back but she didn’t have anything with her. But really all she could focus on was her arms. She raised her arms and flexed. There was no denying it: she was losing her muscles and she didn’t know how to feel about that. 

After a lifetime of hard work she’d gone soft. Her father’s voice came into her head lamenting about how long it would take her to bounce back once she returned from the war. If she bounced back at all. It had been so long since she properly worked out. Maybe she could talk to Mae about helping her do any heavy lifting on one of her shift next time one lined up with Billie’s off time. The mechanic was always grateful for the help especially if it meant they could trade stories about growing up in the entertainment industry while they worked. Billie sobered up a bit thinking about the last time she’d fallen asleep body aching after helping Mae. She didn’t think it was possible to miss that horrible feeling of muscle exhaustion. She rotated her wrists a couple of times trying to stretch them out. She flexed her fingers. Next were her arms, first across then over her shoulder. She jumped in place a couple of times wishing she wasn’t in uniform. All she needed to do was focus. 

Billie washed her hands and then briefly pressed her wet hands to her face, trying to cool herself down. It worked, or at least she told herself it did, and then her hands went to her hair. There was nothing she could do to bring order back to her hair but at least now she could tell herself she tried. Billie grabbed her jacket to put back on while staring herself down in the mirror. She could do this. It’d been a long time since she’d juggled but she knew the muscle memory would kick in. It had to after all the time she’d spent practicing as a kid. If she made a fool of herself and her dad found out he was sure to take a swing at her. He trained her better than to fail at something so simple. She shook her head to clear the thought and stretched her shoulders back while taking in a deep breath. She exhaled and made eye contact with her reflection again. Billie knew she could do this, she could prove Bucky wrong. 

The door to the bathroom burst open and Barbara came barreling through. Billie was surprised it had taken this long for her best friend to find her. “What’s this I hear about Bucky challenging you to juggle? Do you really know how to juggle?”

“Of course I can juggle,” Billie popped her hip to the side and put her hands on her waist. Striking a pose she said dramatically, “it’s in my blood.” 

Barbara had come over to stand next to Billie and began touching herself up, pulling a tube of lipstick out from her pocket. “Of course it’s in your blood, you carny. I forget all of the silly things you know how to do because you’re so normal.” 

The comment stung but Billie knew better than to make anything of it. She knew Barbara meant well.  

“Well I don’t think it’ll be that hard.” Billie flicked her hair back over her shoulder and squared her shoulders. “It’s only four glasses.” 

“Four? The major is telling people five.” 

Billie thought about it for a moment, “I guess at a point it just becomes a number.” She marched to the door but paused before pulling it open, her hand on the handle. “Am I about to make a fool of myself?” 

Barbara shrugged. “Possibly. But not until after you impress people a little, which I know you’re going to do.” She met Billie’s eyes in the mirror. “You always do this.” Barbara finished touching up her hair and stepped back to take in more of her reflection. 

“Do what?” Billie dropped her hand from the door handle. 

“Pull out these ridiculous things to be good at that make everyone ooh and aww. Its unfair honestly, the fact that you’re not a miserable bitch. It would make dealing with you so much easier.” Barbara said. 

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take that.” Billie couldn’t help but grimace.

Barbara laughed. “It was supposed to be a compliment. I was trying to say you’re nice and good at things not a lot of people are good at which is fun. I like being your friend.” 

Billie swooned and pulled Barbara in for a hug. “I like being your friend too. You’re the only one who doesn’t give me grief about being a miserable nurse.”

“Oh I give you grief too, only difference is you realize I’m joking around. Besides you can’t be good at everything so who cares if you’re not the best nurse on base. Now lets go show up Major Egan with your circus skills” 

When the pair came out of the bathroom Billie realized that Bucky had drawn a small crowd in the back corner of the room. A wave of nausea rolled through her and she let out a couple of deep breaths and closed her eyes. And just like that she felt more at home than she had in months. She never would have guessed this would do the trick. 

“Are you okay?” Barbara was at her shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She had no choice but to be fine. Her personal and family pride was on the line. 

A feeling started making itself known deep in Billie, something she hadn’t felt for a long while. It was serious now that the pre-show jitters were kicking in. A laugh threatened to bubble up out of Billie and she had to clench her jaw to keep the sound in. All of these thousands of miles away from home and here she was pulling the same tricks. Billie never thought she’d be doing this here, that any of her circus skills could come in handy in the real world. The whiskey was softening the worst of her nerves so Billie didn’t waver as she marched forward and pushed her way through the crowd. 

“There she is!” Bucky was sitting at a table with five empty rocks glasses next to him. 

“Do we need to revise the stakes, Major? You’re not trying to change the bet on me are you?” She grabbed a glass off the table and tried her best to ignore the feeling of everyone’s eyes on her. It would go away, the prickling feeling as they stared her down. It always went away she just had to push through the tension. At least here she was fully clothed and her feet were steady on solid ground. Far steadier than all of the drinks she had would suggest. 

“A number is a number, really.” Bucky reasoned. “What’s one extra? Plus five has a better ring to it wouldn’t you say?”

Billie laughed at that, “I suppose you’re right, Major.” 

“Are you going to turn around so we can watch?” A voice called out from behind her. Lieutenant Douglass if she was to guess, it sounded like his sort of snark. It also sounded like someone had elbowed him in the side. She smiled thinking it was probably Barbara. 

Billie turned on her heels and dipped into a deep curtsy towards the people gathered around her. Already she was back into performing. “Give us just a moment, gentlemen. We’re settling up accounts here. The show’ll begin in just a tick.” She turned back around to face Bucky. “So here’s how this is going to work. I can’t do this by myself so you’re going to have to help me. You’re going to need to throw me the last two glasses.”

“You want me to throw you a glass while juggling? Twice? You trust me to do that?” 

“You started this whole thing, might as well get involved.” Billie said. “Besides, there’s a better chance at avoiding disaster this way than if I started with all five on my own. I’m not doing that with things I’ve never juggled before.” 

Bucky’s face was twisted in concentration. Billie wondered if he was going to call the whole thing off. If he tried she was going to suggest she juggle just three glasses instead. She wasn’t leaving until she at least somewhat proved her talents. Billie wanted to see if she could make Bucky smile. 

She tossed the glass in her hand again, higher this time. “I suppose there is a danger aspect, I will give you that. But remember, I’m a nurse if anything goes wrong.”

Bucky chuckled. “Rumor is—”

“Fine.” Billie raised her hand to cut him off. “I’m not the only nurse here tonight. Come on, you’re not flying tomorrow so you’ll have some time to heal before you have to go up again. We can push the table out of the way and I’ll stand in the corner so you won’t be throwing in the direction of everyone.”

“You could still get hurt.” 

Billie hadn’t been expecting this change of heart. The was definitely something up with Bucky, normally he was all about encouraging the reckless behavior. The one leading the charge. He wasn’t usually the one giving the waring speeches. Something had to be wrong. 

Billie waved her hand dismissively. “I’ve dealt with worse, trust me. Plus, I know how to handle myself when something goes wrong. This isn’t my first rodeo, Major.” She knew she shouldn’t push but she couldn’t help but add, “Come on, don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet. That’s not like you. Scared I’m going to prove you wrong? Why not live a little?” She couldn’t help but think about how she used to tease her brother and she poked Bucky in the shoulder as if he was Eddie. 

Bucky shook his head but then stood up. He didn’t respond to Billie instead calling, “Hey, Buck! Come help me move this table.” 

Billie grabbed a second glass from the table and then stepped out of the way while the two moved the table. She heard Buck grumbling something about how this was a bad idea but Billie decided to ignore him. Her drunk logic and seeing Bucky’s clearly fake smile had her coming around to thinking this was an excellent idea. So Billie turned to face the crowd smiling wide. 

“Now is everyone ready for a show? Has anyone else placed any bets on me tonight?” She held the three glasses in one hand and lifted the other to her ear, waiting for someone’s answer. 

“It’d be rude to say, ma’am” called out Captain Everett Blakely.

“It’d be rude to not split the winnings!” Billie countered with a wink.

“You’re really going to do it?” Douglass asked. 

“We’ll see. Depends on if Major Egan can handle the pass.” 

“Oh I’ll make it just fine just you watch.” Bucky said. “Now where do you want me.” 

Billie glanced around at the space. She gestured to most of it, “I’m probably going to end up traveling a bit, so just stay on the edge of the circle somewhere. I’ll tell you when I’m ready. I can handle most passes just try not to go too high or too low.”

“Will it be obvious what’s too high or low?” He looked nervous again. It unsettled her. 

“Don’t worry about it, forget I said anything. It’ll all be fine and you’ll be down a pack of smokes in just a couple of minutes.” that made him laugh and Billie smiled. Success. But she could do better. 

Billie made her way to the center of the space Buck and Bucky had cleared. She let herself picture dropping a glass in the first round, in the second. Before she even needed Bucky to throw her one. What was really the worst that could happen? What happened here didn’t need to come home with her, she reasoned with herself. Realistically she could just not tell anyone about what happened. Her dad didn’t have to know. She could suffer through the embarrassment during the war, there were beyond worse crosses to bear. It was going to be fine. Billie took a deep breath then smiled. Showtime. 

Just like Billie thought and hoped, her muscle memory took over as soon as she threw the first glass into the air. She heard gasps around her as she started getting into the feel of it and she smiled wider in response. Bucky wasn’t the only one who had doubted Billie could juggle. It always felt good to take people by surprise so maybe it was good she barely told anyone about her circus life. They didn’t have enough good surprises there on base. She kept her eyes trained on the glasses but it was hard to bite back the laugh at the men’s reaction. This was nothing. If only she had her balls with her, then she’d really be able to put on a show for them. 

It felt so nice to slip back into the rhythm of juggling that Billie didn’t even mind her arms were starting to burn. She couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. The adrenaline coursing through her was like she was back under the big top. Christ, she has missed this. She had no idea she would have missed this that much. After a minute or so Billie felt comfortable enough for the next glass. 

“Alright, Major. You ready?” Billie called out, eyes not leaving the glasses going round and round. 

“When you are.” Bucky answered. 

Billie moved so that she was facing Bucky. “Hit me.”

“Now I don’t think—”

“You know what I mean. Stop being a smartass.” Laughter came from the crowd. 

“Here you go.” Bucky tossed the glass perfectly and Billie added it to her rotation with ease. 

Her arms were really burning but she didn’t mind, not with how they were clapping for her. This was one of her favorite feelings in the world, or as close as she could get without being near a trapeze swing. The reactions from an audience tended to be food for a performer’s soul and Billie had long been starving. Out of her whole circus family Billie was the only one not motivated by those reactions. Still, she could get hungry. There was something inherent in her, something deep that made her come alive when she performed. Barbara was right, it didn’t matter if she wasn’t the best nurse at Thorpe Abbotts because there were other things she could do. Wasn’t job supposed to be helping the airmen? She spared a glance at Bucky and was thrilled to see a genuine smile stretched across his face. It seemed he’d done a complete 180 degree turn from earlier in the evening. It was such a gift to be able to affect someone’s mood like that. This was why she loved what she could do. 

“I would like to state for the record that I did win the original bet.” Billie called out. 

“Does that mean you want to quit?” Bucky challenged. 

“Not a chance, Major. Not a chance.” Billie quipped. 

“Eyes up then.” Bucky said. 

It was only her years of training that saved Billie from disaster when Bucky threw tossed the final glass at her. She nearly stumbled but quickly got her footing steady. “I didn’t tell you I was ready for that!” she called out, beyond annoyed. That could have gone seriously wrong and she didn’t want to be the one to ruin the mood of the party. 

“Seems like you handled it just fine.” Bucky dismissed Billie’s frustration and gave a clap as he watched her successfully juggle the five glasses. He really was back to his normal self. 

Billie gave into another laugh but then suddenly sobered. She hadn’t been thinking this through at all. She’d never juggled glasses like this before, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to catch them all without breaking anything. 

“Now this is the part I didn’t think all the way through.” Billie sheepishly admitted. 

“How you’re going to stop? I’ve been wondering that since the beginning.” Bucky was standing with his arms crossed. He had a smug look on his face that annoyed Billie but she’d rather this than his pathetic state from earlier. 

“We might have some casualties I’m afraid.” She mused and went quiet for a few moments. She was staring at the glasses as she threw them around. Maybe if she utilized some bad form she’d be able to toss the glasses forward. With her mind made up she said, “Okay, we’re going to do a reverse of what we just did. You’ll have to get closer but I’ll toss them back to you.” 

“So I’m involved again?” Bucky groaned in an over the top way that was more in line with his usual behavior. 

“You’re the one who started it.” Billie teased back. 

Someone pushed through the crowd, Billie couldn’t tell, and stepped through into the clearing. It was Crosby holding a cushion from one of the chairs in the back corner. “Would this help?” He asked. 

“Excellent foresight, Croz.” Bucky clapped Crosby on the back and took the cushion from him and dropped it on the ground in front of him. “Now if I drop it it’ll still have a hope for survival.” 

Billie’s arms were on fire. She really needed to speed things along. “We ready over there, gentlemen?” 

“When you are.” Bucky answered. 

“First one coming through.” Billie called and as one of the glasses came into her right hand she twisted her wrist in a way she was trained to never do. The glass went out instead of up and Bucky caught it with ease. 

Billie was elated, she couldn’t believe this was going so well. She tossed a second, and then third glass to Bucky that he beautifully caught. Billie didn’t know why he’d been worried. She was left with a glass in each hand blushing as she faced the crowd. She had been on base with these men for months but this was the first time it felt like any of them were realizing she was a real person. It was electrifying. She gave a dramatic deep curtsy and once she was back standing straight she had people around her. It seemed no one had expected her to pull off such a trick, that no one thought much of her before this. They meant well, Billie knew that. But for some reason the comments stung a little. 

After Billie was done working her way through a small group of admirers Barbara slid up to Billie’s side. “I can only imagine what they’d be saying if they saw your flying costume. Probably have to fight your way through a lot more them.” 

Billie elbowed Barbara. “Leave the costume out of it. I can’t believe I showed you that picture.” 

“Why would you bring it with you if you didn’t want someone to see it?” 

“Look, who cares about the picture of me and my friend. Tell me honestly,” She set the glasses down on the table and then grabbed Barbara’s hands. She was embarrassed but had to ask, “How did I look up there?” 

“You’re an absolute ace and you know it, don’t go begging for compliments.” Barbara squeezed Billie’s hands and smiled. “But you looked lovely. More alive than I’ve seen in a while. You looked like you were having a lot of fun. Were you?” 

“I did, yeah.” Billie answered. She looked at the glasses on the table, smiling to herself. She reached out and picked them back up. “It was fun to get back into it. More than I thought it would be.” 

“I still can’t believe you can juggle.” Barbara shook her head with a smile. She brought her pint glass up and sipped bit of the beer head. “You’re the darnedest thing.”

“You make it seem like I did this crazy thing when all I did was throw some stuff around.” Billie admonished. 

“Well it’s certainly not something that a lot of people can do, especially with how much you’ve had to drink. And I think that’s worth celebrating!” Barbara lifted her glass in the air then brought it down and took a big gulp. She let out a content sigh and asked, “Did you see what happened between June and her new replacement? When we got here?” 

“I saw them dancing for a while, but that’s it.” Billie answered. 

Barbara started in on her story and Billie tried her best to pay attention to the latest updates on her friend’s love life. But the glasses were warm now in her hands and she kept turning them over and over. It had always been soothing to Billie to have something in her hands to play with. Part of the reason why she took to juggling so well. Her arms weren’t burning anymore. Instead there was an ache, the kind Billie couldn’t help but love. She thought her arms could handle going again now that she was warmed up. Still listening to Barbara she took a couple steps away from her friend and started tossing the two glasses around. Two didn’t require as much focus so Billie was able to pay attention to Barbara’s gossip while keeping her eyes on the glasses she was juggling. 

Barbara made a crude joke and Billie took her eyes off the glasses as she turned her head slightly, laughing and ready to say something in response. Only Barbara had stepped to the side to say something to Douglass. She’d turned her back enough so Billie got a clear look through the crowd and straight to the bar. There was a man standing facing her. Looking directly at her. Billie couldn’t help but gasp a little. 

He had curls, a mustache, and looked to be about a little less than a head taller than her. Never in Billie’s life had she been so struck by someone. The eye contact had a grip around her throat. She was buzzing. He didn’t look away and neither did Billie, a challenge of sorts. She was struck with a feeling of familiarity and wanted to rush towards him, pull him close to her and never let go. Her face started heating up, her pale skin betraying her emotions as always. She felt foolish but he looked like he would give the best hug, the kind that felt like home and made you forget all that was happening around you. Billie was struck with the realization that as deeply as she was looking at him, he was looking right back at her with the same intensity. Finally someone was seeing her; they were seeing each other. He gave her a smile and she felt herself returning the gesture. He had a beautiful smile. She wanted to see what it looked like up close. Billie felt like she was flying through the air without the safety net, her stomach all out of sorts. Suddenly she was reminded of what she must look like; red faced, messy hair, with a disheveled uniform. Hardly presentable or anything worth looking at. 

Her heart collapsed through her stomach and she wrenched her eyes away from the man just as Barbara reached out to touch Billie’s arm to get her attention. She knew it was going to happen before it did, but Billie lost her grip and one of the glasses slipped through her fingers. It crashed around her, causing a brief wave of silence as people turned to see what happened. Billie’s knew her face must look like a tomato so she immediately dropped to a crouch to hide her face and looked at the damage up close. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Barbara wailed from somewhere over Billie. “I distracted you, this is all my fault!” She joined Billie on the floor and reached out as if to start scooping up the glass with her bare hands. She paused and then looked up at Billie. “I’m going to go find a broom and dustpan.” she said and then ran off into the crowd. 

Billie kicked at the big pieces of glass trying to move what she could. Then she did what Barbara wouldn’t and started picking at the glass with her hands. 

“How is it that you can handle juggling five but two is what takes you out?” She heard Bucky behind her and she smiled to herself. Of course he saw her mess up. 

“We all have our things, sir.” She said still facing the ground. 

“Here, to make it easier.” Billie looked up to see him handing her a beer. “Wasn’t sure what you liked so if you hate it at least I tried.” Bucky said with a shrug.

“I appreciate the attempt.” Billie smiled. She stood up to take the beer but set it on the table instead of taking a drink. 

“I’ll find you tomorrow to get you your smokes.” 

“Oh you don’t have to do that.” Billie waved him off. “I was messing around. I don’t even smoke.” 

“What were you going to do with them?” 

“Use them as bribes to have people forgive me for inevitably doing something wrong.” The strategy hadn’t worked yet but she wasn’t going to give up her attempts now. 

“Come on, you’re not that bad.” Bucky reasoned. 

“Well I’ve never had to give you an IV before so maybe hold your judgement until I get you under my care.” Billie joked. 

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Bucky asked. 

“Maybe it is.” Billie shrugged and gave Bucky a playful light punch on the arm. 

Billie heard Barbara before she saw her. “I have a broom, dustpan, and some rags. Lets get this cleaned up.” 

At that Bucky have a nod to the girls and said, “I’ll leave you to it. Thanks for the show, Billie”

Billie ducked her head in a slight bow, “Always happy to play my part, Major.” She watched him walk away for a moment before she turned to help Barbara. They were making quick work of it until Billie, in the middle of telling a story, grabbed a shard of glass without thinking and sliced her hand open. She hissed as her palm throbbed. 

“Now that doesn’t look too good.” Douglas had made his way over to stand above the pair on the ground. 

“Really, James? She hadn’t realized.” Barbara snapped. Douglass raised his hands in the air and took a couple of steps back. 

“Geez, sorry I said anything.” He turned and left the two on the ground.

Billie thought that was a bit harsh. She wondered if something had happened and maybe Douglass wasn’t going to get his normal kiss goodnight. 

She reassured Barbara, “I don’t think it’s that bad.” Barbara gave her a look and Billie cut her off before she could say anything Billie continued, “But I want to get it looked at before I go to bed.” She grabbed one of the unused rags and pressed it against the cut, soaking up the blood. It stung but Billie didn’t let the discomfort show on her face. “Do you know who is on shift tonight?” 

Barbara nodded in approval of Billie’s statement and answered, “I think it’s Lucy. I hope it’s Lucy. For your sake I hope it’s anyone but Rebecca.” 

Billie groaned at the thought. Knowing her luck the nurse who seemed the most vexed with her would be working that night. She’d be mortified if she had to get stitches from Rebecca. 

“Let’s pray it’s Lucy.” Billie said with a weak smile. 

“She won’t give you any grief then, that’s for sure. Do you want to go outside and get some air while I finish cleaning this up? I’ll walk with you to the hospital.” Barbara was sweet to offer. 

“Are you sure you’re okay finishing cleaning this up?” 

Barbara nodded. “It was my fault anyways. Go on, I won’t be here much longer. Go catch your breath.” she used her hands to shoo Billie away from the mess of glass. 

Billie hovered for a second but then turned to make her way outside. It was easy to weave her way through the crowd, a type of dance in itself. Just before she got to the door Billie turned to look over her shoulder at the bar where the man had been standing. He was still there, but his back was partially to the door. She could see him in profile and even that was striking. Billie’s breath caught. He seemed to be listening to his friend talk but Billie focused in on the man’s hands. One was holding a drink the other was down by his side snapping along with the music. Billie smiled to herself charmed by how in tune the man was with the music. She somehow knew that he was just moments away from starting to dance along instead of letting his fingers do all the work. Billie turned before he could start and walked out the door.

______________________________________________________________

The base was quiet, depressingly quiet. The air was thick with the missing presences of all the lives lost in that day’s mission to Munster. Billie hadn’t seen anything like it in her time there at Thorpe Abbotts. No one had seen such a day. Only one fort had come back, piloted by someone named Robert Rosenthal. Rosie she thought she heard the nickname was. Billie wondered how that pilot must be feeling, what all of those surviving airmen were feeling. 

Billie was heading to the hospital. She needed to re-bandage her hand and figured she’d get a head start on the inventory counts so her shift would be easier tomorrow. 

Lucy, one of the normal night shift nurses, greeted her when she came through the doors. “Billie! Don’t tell me you—”

“No, I didn’t rip out the stitches. I just need you to wrap it back up so I don’t waste all your hard work.” 

“How’d it come undone?” 

Billie shrugged. “You know, life.” 

Lucy shook her head. She wasn’t all that surprised that Billie hadn’t been careful or able to stay still enough to keep the bandage on her hand. There were times when Lucy thought Billie was just as bad as some of the kids that were always running around. 

Lucy was studying Billie’s hand when they heard someone come through the door. The pair looked up and Billie’s stomach dropped. The ground seemed to fall from beneath her. It was him, the man from the officer’s club. She had assumed he was one of the many that were lost. Billie didn’t think that she would ever see him again and she’d been having an embarrassingly hard time accepting that. He didn’t look in their direction, just walked over to the man in the very last bed on the right who was already speaking to him as he sat down. His back was to the nurses, something that Billie was beyond thankful for. 

“That’s Rosie.” Lucy whispered. 

“Who?” 

“Rosie Rosenthal. He was the only one to come back.”

This was Rosie? Billie’s heart flipped and then tightened. Of course he would be a pilot. She pulled her hand away from Lucy. 

“Who’s he with?” Billie asked. 

“His navigator, I think. Lieutenant Bailey.” 

“What happened to him?”

“A couple of nasty cuts on his face, we’re keeping him here overnight to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion.”

“Do you think he has a concussion?” 

“Not at all. He hasn’t shown any of the signs but I think they’re just trying to be extra careful.” 

“Makes sense.” Billie said. 

Lucy made quick work of bandaging Billie’s hand and when she was finished Billie found her clipboard and started making her counts. Billie kept stealing looks at Rosie’s back. She couldn’t look away. It was almost impossible to focus when he was right there. At any point he could turn around and he’d see her, and at that thought Billie realized that she didn’t want him to see her. He turned his face slightly and Billie caught a look of his profile. Thing was, Billie was attracted to competence. She was drawn to those who were skilled, those who knew exactly what they were doing. To her there was nothing more attractive than a man who could handle himself. Billie wished she could be more like her old self. There was a version of her that would have no problem walking right up to him. It would be so easy to slip herself into his orbit. But she wasn’t that version anymore. She’d become so timid. 

Billie eventually lost herself in her counts and by the time she called it quits Rosie was gone. The next morning Billie was tasked with checking on Rosie’s navigator, Lieutenant Bailey. She felt like she could throw up she was so nervous but she pushed through and plastered a smile on her face. 

“Good morning, Lieutenant.” 

“Good morning, ma’am.” 

“Oh, please. Call me Billie. I can’t stand being called ma’am.” 

Bailey laughed. “Alright, Billie it is then. You here to let me out?” 

Billie nodded. “I just have to clean and bandage some of these face scrapes and then you’ll be good to go.” 

“Hey,” Bailey was studying Billie. “Did you juggle the other night at the party for Dye?” 

Billie blushed. Was this how she was going to be known now? “I did, yeah.” 

“I thought that was you! How did you learn how to do that?” 

“I grew up in the circus.” Billie said simply. 

“Wow, a real circus girl. The only time I went to the circus was back when I was in high school. It was an incredible show.” 

“Oh yeah? What was your favorite part?” 

“Anything they did up in the air. I liked all of the flips.”  

“An airmen who likes daring feats in the air, how predictable.” Billie teased. She didn’t say anything about how she’d been one of those doing flips in the air. Men tended to think of her only one way when they found out what she used to wear, how much skin she used to show. She loved her version of flying but it had it’s downsides. Continuing the small talk she asked, “Where are you from, Lieutenant.” 

“New York City. Well, Long Island technically”

“Oh I love New York City. I haven’t been there in years.” She paused what she was doing to really think about it. “Maybe ’37 or ’38?” she thought a couple moments longer. 

“I saw the circus in the summer of ’37.” Bailey commented. 

“It was ’37!” Billie snapped her fingers. “Summer of 1937. Because Charles and I snuck in to go see A Day at the Races. We were there on Long Island too.” 

“That’s around when I saw the circus! Maybe I saw yours.” 

“Maybe.” It was surreal for Billie to think of that possibility. 

“Wait, so you snuck into the movies?” Bailey asked. 

Billie resumed her work, answering, “Well it wasn’t really sneaking. We exchanged circus tickets for movie tickets.” 

“A fair switch. How’d you pull that off?” 

“We caught some kids trying to sneak through the back the day before and instead of throwing them out my friend asked if there was anything they could do for us in exchange.” 

“So this wasn’t the first time you’d pulled out the bartering.” 

“Oh, not at all. Movies, plays, jazz clubs, baseball games, you name it and I’ve probably tried to exchange tickets for it.” 

“You like jazz?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s the only music that makes sense.” She set the excess bandages down and reached out to hold Bailey’s chin to keep his face still. She inspected her work. Thankfully she hadn’t messed up his simple patch job. “Alright, Lieutenant. I think you’re ready for discharge.” 

Bailey practically jumped out of the bed and Billie laughed at his reaction. 

______________________________________________________________

Billie hated to admit defeat but she had been defeated plain and simple. She had never not finished a book before but Moby Dick was where she drew the line. It was just so much, too complicated and heavy. She didn’t know what any of the words meant and even though she was managing to follow along with the plot it was possibly one of the most boring books she’d ever read. There were plenty of times Billie hated her lack of education and this was one of them. She wouldn’t be having such a hard time if she’d been able to go to school. For a couple of years her parents had put together an attempt at a homeschool for her and her brother and the rest of the circus kids but no real work had ever gotten done. She was jealous of all the girls who were still in school. Billie could only ever dream of going to college. 

Rebecca had been in college before the war. Billie’s stomach turned thinking about Rebecca. The girl had it out for Billie, and now that she was thinking about it Billie’s lack of real education might have something to do with Rebecca’s attitude towards her. It was clear Rebecca didn’t think she had what it took to be a nurse and her lack of education was a contributing factor. If only their training instructor hadn’t made a comment in front of everyone then maybe Rebecca wouldn’t be so bad. 

But Billie wasn’t thinking about Rebecca, not that day and not for the rest of the weekend. Rebecca had gotten approved for leave to London and Billie felt it was more a gift to her and the girls than it was to Rebecca. Now she’d be given a break from her most recent stress fantasy: a cruel dream where Rebecca and Rosie fall in love and flaunt it in Billie’s face. She knew Rebecca found Rosie attractive and that they’d danced at the officer’s club a couple nights ago. Billie knew it shouldn’t bother her. Everyone should find Rosie attractive, Billie reasoned with herself. There was no deny thing the truth. But there was this sense of possession that Billie could’t get rid of. She was ashamed of it but she felt like Rosie was hers. That eye contact had changed everything for Billie. 

Her priorities had shifted. She found herself wanting to be someone that could be worthy of standing next to Rosie. He was just so good. Rosie had become a presence on the base, earning almost a mythical status after the disastrous Munster mission. Rosie was all anyone wanted to talk about which helped Billie collect scraps of information about the pilot, but it was also overwhelming. She felt silly having feelings over a man that plenty of the other women on base were praying would ask them to dance. She normally stayed away from the stars of the show, knowing that it was more fun to fool around with those in the background. A big ego wasn’t attractive to Billie, in fact it was practically an instant turn off. Luckily for her crush it didn’t seem like Rosie had an ego.

No, Rosie seemed to be the furthest thing from the typical Hollywood hotshot pilot. He was nothing like Majors Cleven and Egan had been. No one could fill the holes they had left but Rosie seemed to be standing steady on his own. He was turning out to be a popular guy in his own way making it easy for Billie to fall deeper into her feelings. She was embarrassed by how strongly she felt towards Rosie and she dreaded the inevitable day news of her crush got out. Barbara would have a fit when she found out and Billie wanted to hold that off as long as possible. It wasn’t worth letting anyone know if nothing had happened. She didn’t know what was going to happen but something in her told her that she couldn’t run away from Rosie forever.

So there Billie was going to the library in attempt to make up for the years of schooling she didn’t get. She could never compete with a college education like Rebecca’s but she could at least become as well read as the base library would allow. Billie was quietly humming to herself when she rounded the corner to walk through the propped open door to the library. Her voice died once she registered who was in the library and she stopped in her tracks.

Rosie was standing with his back to her. He was talking to the librarian about something or another, Billie was too startled to try and follow along. She glanced to her left and saw that no one else was in the room. Quickly and as quietly as she could she crossed the room while keeping her head down. Once she reached the corner she pulled down a book at random and studied the back cover. 

All of Billie’s nerve endings seemed to be on fire. It was as if she was hyper aware of what was happening but it felt like it was happening to somebody not herself. She set the book down and grabbed another from a different shelf without looking. She flipped it open to a random page and pretended to read. It had been days since she’d seen Rosie but that had been from afar. This was the closest she’d been to him since the night in the hospital.

Rosie and the librarian were talking about baseball. Just as Billie was beginning to track the conversation it was ending and Rosie was saying goodbye. Rosie’s footsteps were loud as they went out the door and down the hallway. Still, Billie waited where she was and didn’t move. The tension only slipped from her body when she felt safe that Rosie was really gone. 

“Billie! Sorry I didn’t say hello when you came in.” The librarian called to her from where he was looking over his records. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Edward.” Billie reassured. 

“How did you end up liking Moby Dick?” He asked.

“Oh it was miserable. I couldn’t finish it.” Billie let out a little laugh. 

“That bad?” Edward’s eyebrows were furrowed, lips in a frown. 

“Yeah, sorry to disappoint. I know you liked it.”

“No skin off my back,” He shrugged. “What are you looking for now?” 

“I’m not quite sure.” She held up Frankenstein and Oliver Twist. “Have you read either of these?” 

“If you didn’t like Moby Dick I’m not sure if you would like Oliver Twist. I think you’d better stick with Frankenstein.” 

Billie hummed and set Oliver Twist back down. She flipped through Frankenstein, skimming a couple of passages. “Alright then. We’ll go with this.” 

“You’re really going to take my recommendation even though you didn’t like my last?” 

“Everyone deserves a second chance don’t you think? Well, mostly everyone. You sure do.” Billie said. 

“I wish more people thought like you, Billie.”

“People do, just not military people. It’s a different world here.” Billie said. 

“Ain’t that the truth.” Edward echoed his agreement. 

______________________________________________________________

The sun was barely peaking through the surrounding trees when Billie finished her second lap around the airfield. She’d been on edge for a while now and running it seemed was one of the few things that settled her. For once she didn’t have the morning shift so she was able to get her run in before the base woke up. There was no mission that day so only a handful of other people around. Billie waved to them as she ran by, not stopping to talk to anyone. Her shirt was sticking to her back she was sweating so much. Her lungs were burning. But still she pushed herself to keep running. In a way she had missed this, which was why she kept at it. It felt good, felt familiar, to burn herself out. 

“Hey, Billie!” 

Billie slowed, looking around for the source of the voice. She vaguely recognized it but wasn’t sure who it was. 

“At your 10:00” It was Mae, crouched underneath a plane. Billie jogged over and came to stop by Mae’s toolbox. She lifted her hands up and held them above her head as she tried to slow her breathing down. 

“Good morning.” Billie said when she finally steadied her breath. “You’ve started early.”

“Tell me about it. Not all of us are used to your hours.” Mae slid out from under the plane and stood up. She stretched out her back and dropped her head to her chest. Mae let out a sigh. “It’s going to be such a long day.” She moaned, sounding close to tears. 

“Is it?” 

“It’s going to be awful. Not only am I starting before the crack of dawn but it’s not going to stop until probably—”

Billie felt bad for tuning Mae out, especially when she was trying to vent about her work which was something she really should be supporting her friend with, but she couldn’t help it. Billie had realized that Mae had been working on Rosie’s fort. The name was painted in a bright yellow script: Rosie’s Riveters. She loved it. She couldn’t focus on anything else. 

Mae continued ranting while Billie circled the fort, stretching out while she did. She loved what the planes looked like up close, such terrifying mechanical beasts. They were these amazing powerful creatures that Billie couldn’t help but see as death traps. How could she not after seeing the boys when they come back? She wondered what it felt like to command such a hulking thing. She wondered not for the first time what it felt like to be a pilot, to have so much pressure on your shoulders. To have the lives of nine other men on your hands. One blessing about being the worst nurse base was that she barely had any responsibility. She had it so easy compared to the rest of them. Shame washed over her and she dropped her hand from where she’d been running it over the wing. 

Billie finally tuned back into Mae’s drawl and gathered that the mechanic was going to have to look at a lot of planes that day. She decided to push things along. Plus for some reason she didn’t trust herself being around Rosie’s fort. It felt like such a personal extension of the man, she didn’t want to encroach. Besides she was already driving herself crazy thinking about Rosie she needed to give herself some distance. 

Billie asked how much work she had left on Rosie’s plane and Mae answered that she had just finished up. 

“I actually caught you at the perfect time. I’m going to get started on the one next door.” Mae gestured to the plane behind them. “Do you mind helping me carry some of this stuff over there?” 

“You know you don’t have to ask.” Billie let out a laugh, grateful that she could be of use. “Besides you’re doing me a favor.” 

“Of course I am, I’m not being lazy at all.” Mae laughed. “I guess how else are you going to stay balanced?” Mae joked. “You clearly got your legs in already so now you need to work out your arms.” 

The pair made quick work of moving the equipment and Billie found herself settling down to keep talking to Mae while she began her work. 

“Do you think you’ll go back to the airshows once this is all done?” Billie asked Mae. 

Mae hummed, thinking it over. “I probably will, at least at first. My dad says they’re making do with the mechanic that replaced me but I think he said that so that I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“You feel bad about leaving them?” She’d told Mae all about running away from the circus, how desperate she’d been to get out of there. But Mae didn’t have the same relationship with her family business as Billie had with hers. 

“Constantly. But luckily they’re always reassuring me that they’re proud of me. They know I’m doing good work.” 

“You’re doing great work, Mae.” 

“Thanks, Billie.” 

The pair went quiet but then Mae doubled back in the conversation to say, “But I don’t think I’ll stay for long when I go back.”

“Really?”

“I think this whole thing has ruined flying for me.” Mae sat back on her heels and let out a deep exhale. Billie knew what she was feeling, that bone deep exhaustion one got when thinking about how much blood they’d seen, all the lives they’d lost. 

“What do you think you’ll do instead?” 

“Absolutely no idea.” Mae went back to work. 

They were in the middle of talking about the first time Mae’s sister had taken Mae up with her during one of the airshows when Billie noticed the shapes of two men walking toward them. She squinted, she couldn’t tell who it was. 

Something in her stomach turned and she worried she knew what that feeling meant. It didn’t take much longer for her to recognize the men as Ken Lemmons and Rosie. They looked to be in deep discussion which Billie was grateful for. She slid down in her seat so she wouldn’t stand out as much amidst the parts. Her heart was pounding and she felt like she could throw up. Here she was avoiding Rosie again. 

Barbara had started to joke that Billie was turning into a hermit but there was some truth to it. She’d been turning down more and more invitations to go out. She was keeping to herself. She was doing a lot of reading and knitting. She’d started a scarf when she first got to Thorpe Abbotts that she was finally giving it the attention it deserved. Knitting was easier than risking seeing Rosie. Billie couldn’t explain it in a way that didn’t make her feel like an idiot but she just couldn’t be around him. Her crush was too big; she didn’t trust herself. Billie had no experience with serious relationships since she’d only ever had casual flings. She wasn’t used to these sort of real feelings. Rosie was the real deal and she couldn’t mess that up. But of course she would because that’s what she did. 

The two men were far enough away that Billie knew she was safe to ask, “What’s he doing out here?” It was a silly question, he probably had countless reasons to want to come and look at his plane. But it was early for pilots to be out when they weren’t flying. 

“Who?” Mae lifted her head and looked around. She stood up a bit to get a better look. 

Billie nodded in the direction of the two in deep discussion, coming closer and closer. Mae followed Billie’s direction. “Rosie?” Billie nodded. “He’s probably here to see the patch up on the left wing. They’re doing a practice run later today and I think he’s one of those who needs to get his hands on the thing and check it over himself before wheels up. Whatever it takes to make sure they get up in the air, right?” 

“You think he doesn’t trust you?”

“I think he’s a pilot.” Mae said simply, getting back to work. “They’ve all got their superstitions. Seems like he knows what he’s talking about. More than some of these other jokesters can say.”

“Is that right?” Billie hummed. How was he real? He wore his competence well and Billie was so attracted to him it hurt. She felt weird feeling so strongly towards a stranger but she was almost at the point of full accepting her obsession. 

Rosie hadn’t looked over in their direction yet, but Billie knew it was only a matter of time. She brought her knees up to her chin and she sat with her arms curled around her legs. Talk about the worst time to be in her PT gear, she was showing so much skin. There was no way Rosie wouldn’t see her. Well, it was possible he wouldn’t but highly unlikely. At least she had legs that looked good in her PT gear. Or she used to have good legs. 

“Do I have nice legs?” Billie needed confirmation from Mae. 

“You have a nice everything.” Mae said diplomatically not looking up to look at Billie.

“I’m being serious.” Billie pouted.

“So am I!” Mae finally turned to look at Billie. She stuck her hand on her hip and pointed a wrench at Billie. “Why are you worried about your legs all of a sudden?” 

“No reason.” 

“Really, what’s got you worked up?” 

Billie couldn’t help but glance over at Rosie’s plane and Mae tracked her gaze. 

“Huh.” was all Mae said. 

Billie was mortified. But she knew that Mae wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. Not there was anything there to make a big deal out of. 

Mae looked at Billie hunched over on herself and chuckled. “Ease up, I’m not going to do anything.” Mae reasoned. “You’re really in it, aren’t you.” She shook her head. All of the nurses were boy crazy it seemed. Mae’s heart hurt, reminded of a time when that was her. But Billie looked so pathetic that Mae felt like she had to take her out of her misery. She reminded herself of when she was in the beginning butterflies stage, how big everything felt. 

“Hey, come on.” Mae called to Billie. “I gotta run an errand with the jeep. Do you want a lift back to your hut?” 

Billie was beyond grateful for Mae’s kindness. She didn’t have any other friends on the base who would stay quiet about Billie feeling some type of way over a man. Mae was a good friend and Billie was grateful this awful war had managed to bring them together. 

Billie stood and walked over to the jeep. All she could think about was her legs and she imagined Rosie looking at them. It didn’t make sense that she felt this way even though she was revealing less skin than she did with her flying costume. There was a time when she felt perfectly at home parading around with barely anything covered and now here she was. How had she turned into such a prude? She tied to shake out the nervous energy running through her. She wished she could go back to running but it was too late in the day now. 

She climbed into the jeep and finally let herself take a peek back in the direction of Rosie’s plane. Ken was standing facing away from her, gesturing to something in the engine. Rosie was standing facing her. Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach dropped, but then she realized that she was too far away for him to really see her. Even if he did see her he wouldn’t be able to realize who she was, she reasoned with herself. She didn’t have to get so worked up over nothing. 

“You good?” Mae asked as she jumped into the drivers seat and started up the jeep. 

“All good.” Billie nodded.

Mae pressed on the gas and drove them away from Rosie, Billie’s heart somehow sinking the further and further away they got. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep her game up.

______________________________________________________________

Billie made more progress on her scarf in the past couple of weeks than she had her entire stay at Thorpe Abbotts. She was down to only going out with the girls once a week. No matter how much they begged, Billie couldn’t get herself to risk it. The girls were worried about her, that much Billie knew. Barbara had given her no option but go out with them that night and Billie figured her plan was to get Billie drunk and force her to talk. She didn’t know how to explain how she was avoiding a pilot she’s never talked to, only stared at once and now can’t stop thinking about. She couldn’t explain how crazy and obsessed she felt. Barbara wouldn’t be able to understand that she can’t let herself be around Rosie.

Plus there was the fact that he was a pilot. They were in the middle of a war. It was hard enough waiting for Rosie to come back from missions as it was and she didn’t even properly know him. The anxiety would be too much for her to handle if she got closer with Rosie. The potential heartbreak too much, but Billie was one to always be at odds with herself. She wanted Rosie but she was too scared to do anything about it; she knew leaving him alone would protect her heart but it seemed more heartbreaking to not try and get to know Rosie with each passing day. 

Rosie had burrowed himself deep under Billie’s skin and it was almost irritating. He was changing everything for her. Billie was used to having to constantly saying goodbye to people, used to good things happening only for brief moments. Billie was used to flings and moving on. Rosie shouldn’t have been different than any of the other men. But he was. 

Billie’s train of thought was interrupted by Barbara coming through the door already asking, “Who wants to go out with me tonight? I was thinking the pub. Billie, you’ll come if we go to the pub, right?” Barbara clasped her hands together and brought them next to her face while she did her best to give puppy dog eyes to Billie. 

“Really? The pub again?” 

“What’s wrong with the pub? You love the pub.” Barbara’s hands went to her hips, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Nothing is wrong with the pub. I just think you should stop avoiding Douglass at the officer’s club.” Billie shrugged as she focused back in on knitting. 

“I said we weren’t going to talk about him!” Barbara shrieked. Billie could’t help but bite back a laugh at her friend’s dramatics. 

“Sorry, my mistake.” Billie paused then sighed. There was really only one solution. She set her knitting down and got out of bed stretching her arms out over her head. “I’ll go with you.” Billie knew she wasn’t getting out of it so she might as well give in early. 

“And I didn’t have to fight you on it,” Barbara eyed Billie suspiciously. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’m fine.” Billie gestured to her knitting. “Just getting stir crazy. Head hurts from trying to count stitches.” 

“Well you can’t back out now! Hey, can I do your makeup?” Barbara’s eyes shined with excitement. 

Billie shrugged and said with a smile, “Let’s make it your night, Barbara. Do to me what you’d like.” She tried to play it off as if she was doing Barbara a favor but Billie had been keeping a secret. 

It was no secret Billie didn’t wear makeup and only occasionally let Barbara dress her up. But it was a secret that Billie actually loved having her makeup done. Growing up the hair and makeup tent was where she felt most connected to her femininity. She was always safe with those women who took her in and taught her all of the things her mother hadn’t. She’d never admit it to anyone but Billie found it to be almost spiritual being surrounded by women putting themselves together for a show. For years the only gentle touches Billie got were from the women in that wagon. She’d missed that. Part of why it hurt so much being cut from the shows  was because she lost the access to that feminine space. 

When she was looking at herself in the mirror right before leaving Billie was struck by how much she looked like her old self. She straightened her posture and composed herself. Everything felt more like a show when she went out looking like this. Billie gave her reflection a cheeky wink, smiled, and turned to follow the rest of the girls out of the door and into the night. 

It had only taken half an hour for Barbara to leave Billie’s side in favor of the minuscule dance floor. Billie had been expecting to be ditched and timed getting her next round with it; she loved how predictable Barbara was. Despite being on edge that Rosie would pop up somewhere, Billie was having a nice night. It was loud enough she could barely focus on her own thoughts which was something Billie appreciated more and more lately. She had a pleasant buzz going and was thinking that after this next drink she’d see what she could do about getting in on the dancing herself. She finally reached the bar and found a place right on the corner. 

She’d only been there a moment when, “Hey! Circus girl. How’ve you been?” 

Billie turned and Lieutenant Bailey was standing next to her. Her heart rate skyrocketed. If Bailey was here that meant the rest of Rosie’s crew, including Rosie, was there. “I’m fine.” she answered after a brief hesitation. “And you, Lieutenant? Your face seems like it’s healed up nicely.” 

“All thanks to your fine care and attention.” 

“Please,” Billie couldn’t help but smirk and rolled her eyes. “I had nothing to do with it and you’re lucky I didn’t. You’d probably be in worst shape if I did.” 

“Why are you so down yourself? Come on,” He nudged her with his elbow trying to encourage her. “Did you forget that you’re in the circus?” 

“The circus has nothing to do with this.” Billie laughed. 

“Hey, speaking of— Do your circus skills include playing darts?” Bailey asked, eyes wide with excitement. 

“That’s not a circus skill, more like a life skill. But yes, I can play.” Billie answered.

“Are you good?” Bailey pressed.

“I’m alright.” Billie hedged. She wasn’t sure if she liked the direction this was heading.

“Great! Do you want to come over and play with me and the guys? We’re down one since Rosie wanted to stay at the officer’s club. We can make a bet out of it, I’d split it if we win.” 

“When we win.” Knowing there was no chance she’d run into Rosie, Billie was all in on playing darts. She used to play a bit when they first got to base but it had been a while since she’d taken it on and she was looking forward to it. It helped that she knew these men wouldn’t be expecting her to be as good as she knew she was. She wasn’t incredible, but she could hold her own. Billie also couldn’t resist the temptation to try and get some sort of information about Rosie. She was a woman obsessed. 

“Now there’s some confidence!” Bailey cheered. 

Finally the bartender stood in front of them and asked them what they wanted. Once they were loaded up with their drinks and some for those back at the table the two made their way to the back of the room where the dart board was set up. 

“Fellas, this is Billie our resident circus nurse.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Billie laughed. 

Bailey continued undeterred, “Billie, this is our copilot Pappy Lewis and our bombardier Clifford Milburn. They’re going to be very upset when we take all their money.” 

“You two are going to be the ones losing money, not us.” Milburn joked. 

 The game got underway and it didn’t take long for Pappy and Milburn to realize that Billie could more than hold her own. 

“What a shot!” Bailey let out a cheer when Billie hit the bullseye. “How you feeling boys?” 

“Where did you learn to play darts?” Pappy asked Billie before taking a sip of his beer. “Last time I checked they weren’t a part of the circus.” 

“You do know I had a life outside of the circus, right?” Billie said, partially lying. The circus had been her entire life but that didn’t mean she wanted them to know that. “But I learned the same as you did. Someone taught me and then I practiced until I was good to take your money.” She hit the bullseye again to finish her turn. “You should just be glad I’m playing with Bailey. If I had Eddie with me you wouldn’t have a chance at all.” 

“Is Eddie your boyfriend?” Milburn asked. 

Billie shook her head. “No, he’s my younger brother. You’d never guess we were three years apart, he’s more like my twin.” A wave of grief swept over her when she mentioned Eddie. She wondered how he was holding up in training. If he’d jumped out of a plane yet. She took a deep drink of her beer, wishing it was whiskey instead. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Bailey was the one to ask this time.

Billie choked on her drink. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that Rosie’s crew was asking about her love life when she felt practically head over heels for their pilot. 

“I take that to be a no?” Pappy was laughing at her. 

Billie wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. Pretending she wasn’t losing it on the inside she calmly answered, “You would be correct. Now I believe it’s your turn, Lieutenant.”

After winning best three out of five Billie and Bailey were the undeniable winners. Milburn and Pappy had wanted to push for five out of seven but Billie begged off. 

“I have an early morning tomorrow and I can’t bounce back from a night of drinking like I used to.” Billie downed the last of her drink and set the glass amongst the dozen other empty glasses on the table. 

“You’re too young to have hangovers like that.” Pappy said, confused.

“Not when you started drinking as young as I did.” Billie shrugged. People tended to age differently in her profession. 

After saying her goodbyes Billie made her way to the door while looking around for her friends. She needed to find at least Barbara and figure out who was ready to go back to the hut. To her surprise the girls were already gathered to the side of the door talking amongst themselves. 

“There you are!” Barbara cried when she saw Billie walking towards them. She pushed through June and Mae to pull Bailey in for a hug. “I lost track of you!”

“I was just playing darts.” Billie was confused how Barbara could have lost her in the relatively small pub, but then she took a whiff of Barbara as they hugged and could tell that Barbara had more than her fair share of whiskey over the course of the night. 

“You didn’t see that?” Mae asked. 

“You did?” Barbara responded. “Why didn’t you say anything when I asked?”

“I honestly wasn’t paying attention.” Mae said with half-assed shrug. “Sorry, Barbara.” 

“It’s okay, now I don’t feel as bad when I tune you out when you’re talking about your repair details. You know we can’t keep up with that stuff I don’t know why you keep trying.” Barbara snapped.

“Oh come off it, Barbara.” June cut in. 

Bille had a clear look at the door in the space between Barbara and June and blankly started out of it while the girls continued to chatter on besides her. She was waiting for a break in the conversation to say that she wanted to leave when someone came through the door. A someone that she was not supposed to see. 

Bailey had said that Rosie would be at the officer’s club but there he was a couple of yards in front of her. Her first instinct, that she was quick to act on, was to move to the side so that June was shielding her from any possible view Rosie could have of her. Her mind was racing. She watched Rosie out of the corner of her eye as he slowly made his way through the room. He was good with the men. She liked how he seemed to check in on everyone in some capacity; he made the effort to see every man and to make sure they knew they were being seen. She could tell he cared a lot and his men knew he cared, and her heart sped up even more. She was beyond enamored with him and she didn’t even know him. She felt ridiculous. And lucky. Christ, she was lucky that she’d left his crew when she did. That could’ve been a disaster. 

It was around when Rosie got to his crew that Billie realized the girls had gone quiet around her. She looked back to see all three looking at her. 

“Care to share with the class?” Barbara asked, eyebrow raised, a wicked grin on her face. 

“What are you talking about?” Billie tried to play it off. 

“Who were you looking at? Who managed to catch your eye? I’ve been waiting for this day for forever! Who is it?” Barbara rapidly fired the questions off one after another. 

“Why are you so invested in my love life?” Billie asked.

“Love life! So there is a man! Quick, who is it? Come on, tell us. Tell us. Tell us.” Barbara was acting like a child, drunkenly pulling on Billie’s arm as she begged Billie to share her secrets. June and Mae were looking at the pair laughing. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, seriously. I was just looking around. Leave it be.” Billie said, but she knew it wouldn’t work. She knew these girls wouldn’t give up. 

“You know, I think Rosie just got here.” Mae was looking back at the group playing darts. The rest of them followed her gaze and though she wasn’t sure if the rest would, Billie recognized Rosie’s back. 

“I said leave it be, please, Mae.” She begged all but confirming that Rosie was her man. 

“Fine, fine.” Barbara threw her hands up in the air in defeat. “We’ll leave it be. But just for now!” 

“Barbara!” Billie groaned.

“What did you expect?” June looped her arm through Billie’s. “You know how she is.”

“You’re right.” Billie sighed. She lowered her voice so June was the only one who could hear her. “It’s just that there’s really nothing to talk about.”

“If you say so.” June accepted but her face revealed her doubt. 

Billie decided not to fight it and turned to look back at Rosie just in time to see him clap Pappy on the back, celebrating a good throw. Their celebration died down a bit and then all of a sudden Rosie turned around and looked in Billie’s direction. Faster than she’s ever moved Billie whipped her head around with such force her body followed and she pulled herself and June out towards the door. 

“Okay, I guess we’re leaving.” June laughed, taken by surprise with Billie’s sudden movement. 

They walked out of the pub and out into the night. June waited until when they’d gained enough distance between them and Barbara and Mae to ask, “Do you want me to say something to Barbara about Rosie? I can make sure she doesn’t give you too much grief.”

Billie was touched at June’s kindness. She didn’t have a lot of quality girl friends growing up and it felt so good to have someone like June in her corner. She squeezed June’s arm and gave her a smile. “It’s okay. It was going to come out at some point. It’s just silly is all. I’ve never talked to him, just seen him from afar.”

“He’s quite striking isn’t he?” June asked. 

Billie blushed as she agreed. “And it scares me.”

“Really?” June laughed. “Your concept of scary is all out of sorts. Normal people are scared about throwing themselves in the air hundreds of feet above the ground, not about talking to a man. You’ve got it all switched around.”

“You know what it’s like. He’s a pilot.” Billie felt it went without saying how risky it was to try to get involved with these men. Heartbreak was practically inevitable. She’d never admit it out loud but she was terrified of ending up like Mae. “If I could change it, I would.” Billie whined. “But I can’t stop thinking about him. I know I should just do something. Because the waiting really is getting to me. I can’t avoid him forever.” she pouted. 

“It sounds like you’re putting off the inevitable, darling.” June patted Billie’s hand that was resting on June’s arm. “You’re bound to meet at one point or another. And then whatever is going to happen will happen. Just let it play out.” 

“You’re good at this advice stuff.” 

“I’ve had a lot of practice.” She leaned into Billie’s side. “Eleven siblings.” 

“Eleven? Christ, your mom must be a saint.” 

“She’d like to think so,” June laughed. 

The rest of their walk home was filled with June’s childhood stories, Billie marveling at the similarities with her own upbringing. 

As she laid in bed that night Rosie came back to her mind. She wished she was able to get a better look at him. The problem with avoiding him was that she only got the barest of glimpses. One of these days she’d see him up close. She just wasn’t sure what was going to happen when she did. 

______________________________________________________________

When Billie made her way down to the hardstand to wait for the men to come back from the day’s mission she wasn’t surprised to see a group of airmen playing volleyball. They were laughing, messing around with each other. It always warmed Billie’s heart seeing the men act like they were back home. It was rare to feel normal, it was hard to be able to brush off the looming realities of war surrounding them. Billie was glad that they were able to live in the moment. It had been a while since she’d watched one of the games so she headed to that end of the strip. 

Billie was about twenty yards from the game when she recognized that Rosie was among them. Without even having to think about it, Billie immediately turned and started down in the opposite direction. She walked alongside the edge of the tarmac, saying polite hello’s to those who greeted her. Rosie wasn’t flying and that surprised her. She wondered what had happened, if something was wrong with him or the plane. She reasoned it was more likely something had happened to the fort, she’d have heard if Rosie was unable to fly. That sort of gossip wouldn’t stay quiet. 

“All done for the day?” Mae asked when Billie plopped down on the ground next to her.

“Done for now.” Billie had changed into a set of coveralls that Mae had lent her at the beginning of her stay at Thorpe Abbotts. She knew that she was gong to have to change back later that day when she had to go into the hospital for an inventory check but for the afternoon she was staying in pants. She missed being able to wear pants all the time. Billie pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She rested her head onto of her knees and looked at Mae. “How much longer until they’re back do you think?” 

“Should be any time.” Mae answered. Billie hummed and then closed her eyes. Mae worked in silence for only a couple minutes before asking, “Didn’t want to watch the game?” 

Billie knew Mae wouldn’t miss anything. “I wanted to hang out with you, is there anything wrong with that?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, you’re just deflecting.” 

“I’m not deflecting anything!” Billie’s head shot up as she shot a look at Mae. 

“You’re right. You’re in denial plain and simple.” Mae reasoned. 

“Come off it, Mae.” Billie was mortified to be speaking aloud about this, even though no one around them knew what they were talking about. Billie’s chest was tight knowing Rosie was just down the stretch. 

“You know he used to play baseball? Football too.” 

Billie groaned. “I did know, actually. You told me a couple of days ago at lunch.” 

“Doesn’t hurt to be reminded.” Mae shot Billie a wink. “Athletes tend to stick together, right?” 

“Are you trying to say you consider me an athlete? Because I’m going to have to put a stop to that right now.” 

“You’re as athletic as he is.” Mae reasoned. 

“But I don’t do anything athletic!” Billie pouted. 

“You run.”

“Other than running.” Billie dismissed Mae’s point with a flippant hand wave. 

“Are you trying to say you didn’t do anything athletic back home?” 

“I mean… yeah, I used to. But not anymore.”

“Just like he doesn’t anymore.” Mae was looking at her with a smug expression. 

Billie was cut off from responding by a group of the local kids running by them. One of them, Sammy, stopped to say hello to Mae.

“How’re you doing today, Sammy?” Mae asked. 

Sammy shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t look okay.” Billie commented. 

“Hey, do you want to see something fun?” Mae asked Sammy. Her eyes were twinkling like she had something up her sleeve. 

His eyes lit up. “What is it?” 

“Well, first I have to let you in on a little secret.” She used a finger to beckon Sammy closer and said in a quiet voice, “Nurse James here used to be in the circus.” 

“The circus!” Sammy shouted. He’d caught the attention of some of the other kids. “You were really in the circus?” He asked Billie. 

“I grew up in the circus.” Billie answered. 

Sammy’s eyes were wide with excitement. “With elephants?” 

“No, we didn’t have any elephants. But for a while we had a lion.” 

“You had a lion!” another kid, Billy, joined the conversation. “Did he ever bite anyone’s head off?”

“Sorry to say, Billy, no one lost their head to the lion.” 

“Why did you leave the circus when you had a lion?” Sammy asked. 

“Well I had to come here and help, didn’t I?” Billie simplified her past for the kids. 

Mae cut in, “Why don’t you ask her what she used to do in the circus.” 

“Mae—” Billie started but was cut off by questions from all around her asking what she could do. 

“Maybe if you are good she’ll show you something.” Mae egged on the kids. “I heard she can do a cartwheel.” 

“I can do a cartwheel too!” One of the girls, Mary, raised her hand. 

“Can you?” Billie asked with a smile. “Can I see?” 

“Only if you go too.” Mary reasoned and Billie laughed. 

“Fair enough. I walked right into that one didn’t I?” Billie got to her feet and followed the girl out to the other end of the hardstand and out onto the grass. 

Mary did a decent cartwheel and Billie and the others watching all clapped. “Wait, wait. I can do a better one! Wait!” Mary rushed out before Billie could take her turn. Billie was impressed with how seriously the girl was taking her cartwheel. Mary composed herself then did another cartwheel, this time in better form.

She was beaming when she came running back to Billie. “Now it’s your turn!” 

“Alright, alright.” Billie checked if the space was clear behind her before taking a good couple of steps back. She took a deep breath then said, “Here you go!” 

Billie did one cartwheel, and then another. A third cartwheel. She started what looked like a fourth cartwheel but instead Billie halfway into it she went up into a handstand. Now this was fun. Billie loved handstands, so much so that growing up Eddie would tease Billie for being steadier on her hands than feet. Walking on her hands Billie chased after Sammy who was cackling. 

Billie came to a stop then pushed her arms out to full extension, took a breath, and lowered her legs slowly into the splits. While her breath was steady her core was trembling; it felt so good. Billie knew she wasn’t going to fall but also that she was going to be feeling this for the next couple of days. She held the splits for only a moment before pushing off the ground and flipped herself right side up finishing the cartwheel. 

The kids swarmed around her, giggling and begging her to do it again. What else could she do? Does she know how to do a flip? Billie noticed that more heads were turned in her direction. She didn’t have an outright crowd, but the kids surrounding her weren’t the only ones watching. It took all of Billie’s self control to not look over at the far end where Rosie was playing volleyball. She didn’t want to know if any of them were looking at her. If she knew Rosie was looking at her Billie wouldn’t be able to handle it. But deep down she didn’t know if she was going to be able to get out of this one unseen. She couldn’t help but wonder what he would think about her doing something so unladylike. One of the girls tugged on Billie’s arm pulling her attention back to what she was doing. She blushed when she took in the girl’s eyes, wide with shock and awe. 

Even though Billie didn’t get cravings for an audience like the rest of her family she still appreciated aspects of the attention. It fed a sense of ego Billie was embarrassed to admit she had. It was one of her shameful secrets: she wanted to be remembered. As much as she hated her childhood and the way she was brought up, Billie knew there was a magic to the circus. It was an experience and something that stayed with attendees for the rest of their lives. People didn’t forget the circus and there were hundreds of people back in America that remembered Billie even if they didn’t know it was her. Everyone, no matter their age, ended up with the same childlike joy when they went to the circus. It was that reaction Billie cared about. It was only that reaction that pushed her to show off in front of the kids.

She desperately wanted to make sure the kids don’t forget about her. She wanted to live on through them. Less selfishly Billie wanted to counteract any bad vibes that may come when the mission came back. Entertaining people was work, but Billie was coming to think it was a necessary work. At least in these circumstances.

“Alright, alright. Give me some space.” Billie said gently. “Now just give me a moment.”

“What’s she going to do now?” The kids asked each other. 

Mae answered for Billie, who had turned and was walking further down the hardstand out of earshot. “I think you best find yourself a seat for the show and find out.” 

Billie spent her walk down the hardstand stretching out her arms and finished with a couple of lunges on each side. She was relatively warmed up but she didn’t think it would be wise to try and pull anything fancy. Her audience didn’t know what she could do, all they would care about was what she did. And she knew she could do enough to give them something to smile over. Once she felt like she was far enough away to have room for a couple of stunts Billie turned back around to face her audience. More men were looking at her than before but Billie let their stares roll off her back. 

Billie took a deep breath then jumped in place a couple of times. “Are you ready?” She yelled down to the group of kids huddled by Mae. Instead of waiting for their response Billie started running and leapt into a series of stunts that had her flying past the group huddled around Mae.  Billie couldn’t help but laugh when she stuck her final landing. The kids cheered while the onlooking adults clapped. Someone let out a whistle. It was such a gift to get such reactions. She vaguely registered there were more people looking her way but stayed focused on the kids. 

“Shall I go again?” She lifted a hand to cup behind her ear, waiting for the response she knew was coming. As soon as she heard the first cheer she set off tumbling back down along the hardstand. This time when she finished she sunk into a deep curtsy. 

When Billie pulled herself back up some of the kids were already at her side. She laughed as they talked over one another. It was so rare that Billie saw reactions to her tricks up close and personal that the reactions from the kids were overwhelming. She started to walk back to Mae but the kids were making it hard to move. Billie stumbled which caused the two kids in front to back up and give her more space. When Billie looked up after thanking them for giving her the space to move she was looking directly Rosie. 

And Rosie was looking at her. He had broken away from the game to stand where the grass met tarmac. He’d been watching Billie. His hands were on his hips and a smile was lighting up his face. It was a smile aimed at her, a smile because of her. He was looking at her like he was endeared by the sight of her barely being able to move with the kids surrounding her. She knew the kids were talking to her. She knew she should be paying them attention. But she couldn’t pull away from Rosie. 

She’d been wondering if it was all just a fluke; Billie had figured she’d made mountain out of a molehill. They had looked at each other once, it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. Billie had settled into thinking she was experiencing the effects of an overactive imagination and it being over a year since she’d had her last fling. 

But this wasn’t like what she had convinced herself. Because, again, the eye contact with Rosie felt like the most real thing she had ever experienced. She didn’t understand how something as simple as eye contact could make her feel like this. It felt like she was flying. They stared at each other from across the hardstand, neither one of them paying any attention to what was happening around them. 

Billie was ripped away from Rosie by one of the younger girls asking, “Can you go at it again? Oh please, can you?” 

“Come on, Susan,” Mae cut in. “Let Nurse James take a break and catch her breath.” 

“Just a quick breather and then I can go again.” Billie echoed what Mae said. 

Her face felt like it was bright red and she was looking everywhere but back at Rosie. Now that she’d broken the eye contact she was terrified to look back his way. 

A shout rang out, “I think I hear them!” Everyone’s attention went to the sky.

Sure enough, the hum of plane engines was building in the distance. As it grew louder it became clear that the engines didn’t sound right. From just the sounds of it, it was a rough mission. The first fort came into view— two engines down. Red flares. More forts broke through the clouds, red flares from almost all. Billie wanted to throw up. 

“Alright kids, time to get back home.” Mae called to the kids as she stared up at the planes coming in. Her face was blank, eyes empty. Billie knew she was thinking about who they lost this time. 

“Hey, Billie!” one of the ambulance drivers was jumping into the front seat of an ambulance parked back behind where Billie was standing. “Hop in, we’ll need your help.” 

Billie ran to the passenger seat and before she even closed the door they were off speeding down the tarmac to where the first plane had taxied to a stop. The call for an ambulance came from the co-pilot shouting out his window. Billie leapt to action, grabbing a stretcher and running over to where the men had started jumping out of the back hatch. 

“Come give us a hand!” 

Billie helped pull the wounded gunner out and loaded him onto the stretcher. They’d made it halfway to the ambulance when he looked up and made eye contact with Billie. He stared at her, glassy eyed and confused.

When he realized who she was he groaned, “You’re not going to drop me, are you?” 

“Trust me, Lieutenant, you would much rather have me carry you than try to patch you up. My girls Barbara and June are going to take much better care of you.” 

That seemed to comfort him and once they loaded him up into the ambulance Billie ran back into the mess. 

______________________________________________________________

It was one of the few sunny days they had seen at Thorpe Abbotts in a while and Billie refused to let it go to waste. It was only ever when the sun was out that she really remembered just how much she loved being in the sun. If her old self, the one who spent summers in the deep south, could see Billie now wishing for the sun and heat she’d lose it. Billie had managed to convince June to join her on a makeshift picnic not wanting to lounge alone in the fall sun. She had just sent June off to scavenge for something they could bring out for lunch. June had said she’d made friends with a woman who worked in the kitchens so Billie didn’t feel bad about putting her friend to work.

Once Billie got the blanket sorted she tossed down her book and sat down. It took a minute to find a comfortable position in her uniform skirt, but she eventually made do. Out of everything Billie had to adjust to when she became a nurse it was the skirts that were the hardest; Billie missed her pants. She grabbed the copy of Frankenstein she still hadn’t managed to finish and opened up the back cover. She pulled out a letter she’d stuffed there earlier and put the book back down on the ground next to her. 

Billie was proud of herself for waiting until June left her alone on the blanket to open her brother’s letter. It had taken every ounce of strength but Billie knew she needed to wait until she was alone to take in her brother’s words. It was different now. Despite what her anxiety prepared her for it was a fairly normal and simple letter. There was a story about his friends, questions about how she was holding up, and reassurances that he was okay. Eddie’s voice practically jumped from the page making it easy for Billie to hear her younger brother’s enthusiasm. He was having fun on this grand adventure or however it was young boys looked at war. Billie’s heart tightened as she thought about how naive Eddie was, how young and innocent. She’d been seeing her brother’s face in almost every new recruit lately. It was getting tiring. 

Billie was so focused on the letter that she just barely registered someone sitting down next to her. She was surprised; she didn’t think June would get back so soon. She opened her mouth to say as such but—

“That from Eddie?” 

That was not June’s voice. Billie straightened up to full attention, her head snapping to the side where the voice came from. It was Rosie. 

His face was about a foot from hers and Billie couldn’t help but suck in a breath in surprise. Her face flamed. He leaned back, and what looked like a blush dusted his cheeks. At least she wasn’t alone in being embarrassed. The air between them felt charged. 

Right, he’d asked her a question. She had no idea how he knew her brother’s name but she answered, “Yeah, it’s from Eddie.” She looked back down at the letter in her hands. “They’re in the middle of training. He says he’s having a lot of fun.” 

“Well that’s good news.” he smiled reassuringly. 

“It is,” She agreed. “It’s just…” Billie raised her eyes to meet his again. “It’s not going to stay fun. Not for much longer.”

He gave her a soft smile, maintaining eye contact. He didn’t need to say anything for her to know he understood what she was trying to say. 

“But enough about me.” Billie twisted her body a bit so that she was facing Rosie a bit more head on. If he was going to act as if they were already five conversations in she would follow along. She waved a hand to gesture he should take the floor. “How is your day going?” 

“It’s going better now I’ll tell you that.”

“Oh is it now?” 

“It’s a recipe for success: a free afternoon, sunny and clear sky, and my favorite girl next to me.” 

Billie’s heart skipped a couple beats. “Is that right?” 

“I said it so it must be true.” Rosie’s smile warmed her right up like a double shot of whiskey. He wasn’t what she was expecting at all. She enjoyed the surprise, wondered where else it was going to go. They were already so far beyond any of her fantasies. Everything was so surreal. 

He picked up her book and thumbed through it. “How are you liking it so far?” 

“It’s good. Better than Moby Dick was. At least with this I can mostly follow along.” She thought about explaining herself but she doesn’t want to get into her sob story about wishing she could’ve gone to real school. 

“I think I know what you should read next.”

“A book recommendation? I’m flattered.” Billie briefly worried she sounded sarcastic but she meant it. Luckily Rosie’s answering smile told her he understood her perfectly. 

“The Great Gatsby. I’ve read it twice and it just gets better with each read. Plus it’s not that old so it’ll be far easier to understand than this.” He lifted the book in the air. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the classics.” Billie couldn’t help but think Rosie looked adorable as he tried to cover his bases in case he insulted her somehow. 

“Thank you, I appreciate the recommendation. I’ll check it out once I finish this. It was hard enough giving up on one book I don’t think I could forgive myself if it happens a second time.” 

Rosie smiled wider at that and Bille felt like she could explode from the inside out. “I can give you recommendations on anything, anytime you’d like.” 

Billie’s heart skipped a beat. Rosie was looking around trying to act cool. Billie could only see the side of his face and it was bright red.  

She debated what to say to cover the tension but then decided to lean into it instead of avoiding the awkwardness. Plus she liked seeing him blush. “How did you know my brother’s name?” 

Her question made Rosie squirm a little and Billie found herself thrilled at the response. She had an affect on him. He was reacting because of her. She felt oddly powerful, like some sort of mild femme fatale. It had been a long time since she was in a position like this with a man. It was way back before she ran away from home that she’d had her last fling.  

“I asked around about you.” Rosie confessed.

Her jaw dropped. “Really? What did people say?” She needed to know. 

He nodded. “Well I heard a couple of stories about some blood draws and stitches.” Billie groaned at his words and her face heated with embarrassment. Of course that would be her reputation.

“You’re fine.” Rosie sweetly reassured. He rubbed a hand down her back reassuringly. Billie’s chest constricted at the contact. Was this really happening? Rosie continued, “I also heard that you somehow seem to know something about every airman’s hometown. You can juggle, play darts, and like jazz.” 

“I wouldn’t say almost every airman, realistically it’s more like a handful.” Billie reasoned. Her face felt like it was on fire. 

“I gotta say, though.” Rosie said. “You don’t make sense to me.”

“I don’t make sense?” Why did that feel like it was the most true thing anyone had ever said about her? 

“It’s just that to some people you’re this quiet unassuming nurse but I’ve heard you do more than nursing. Supposedly you’re always running around looking for something to do or someone to help. It’s like you’re trying to do a bit of everything.” 

Billie didn’t know how to respond to that. “I feel like two different people sometimes.” Billie said softly. “It’s just that when I’m nursing …” she shook her head as she trailed off. 

“I want to know more about you.” Rosie said boldly. But he said it in the sweetest gentle voice. He was treating her with a delicate care she didn’t think she’d ever receive. 

Billie felt like she was going to have a heart attack. She was used to forward sexual advances, used to midnight trysts and pillow talk and never speaking again. She had no experience on the real getting to know you part of romantic feelings. “What do you want to know?” She asked. 

“Everything.” He answered. “I never want to stop learning things about you.” 

Billie stared at his face, taking him in. She’d been thinking about him for so long. For over a month she’d been left with her memory and fantasies. But now he was real. And the real Rosie wanted to know about her. “Come off it, you sweet talker.” her instinct was to attempt to tease. “You don’t mean that.” 

“I’m serious.” Rosie insisted. How was this happening? Billie was in disbelief. The possibility of him being this interested in her hadn’t been one of the scenarios she’d imagined would happen when she finally met Rosie. Attraction, maybe. This curiosity? No. 

“Alright then.” She straightened her posture and smiled at Rosie. “Pick something. You have to start somewhere or you’ll never get anywhere.” 

He looked unsure for a moment so Billie reassured, “You can ask about anything. I’m an open book with you.” With him she’d be anything he wanted. 

After thinking for a moment, staring up at the sky, he hesitantly asked, “How did you end up here? I mean, you normally hear about people running away to join the circus not people running from the circus.” Rosie seemed to be trying not to offend her, it was sweet.

Billie thought for a moment. She reached out to where the edge of the blanket met the grass. She ripped out a couple of blades. “My story is the same as everyone else’s I suppose. I felt like I should help so I did.” She shrugged then elaborated. 

“A lot of our performers over the years have been European so I was tracking the war for a while through them. Hearing about what was happening to their homes, their families… I knew it was only a matter of time until we got pulled in.” She took a breath. She wasn’t sure how deep she wanted to get with him. She had said that she would answer anything and Rosie deserved her full truth. “I’d wanted to run away from home my whole life. Growing up in the circus I couldn’t help but want a normal life.” She let out a weak laugh, “You know, for the longest time my dream was to live in one place for longer than three months. How sad is that.”

“But you’ve done that now.” Rosie gestured to the base around then. 

“I’ve done that now, you’re right.” She smiled at him, getting lost in his eyes again for a moment. She blinked. “Anyways, Pearl Harbor happened and it was all too real. I realized just how silly the circus is and how pointless my life was there. I wanted to be somewhere where I mattered.” She cleared her throat. “So I saw an advertisement for all the ways women could help the war effort and signed up. Since I had a basic understanding of first aid I felt like nursing was my best chance to do some good.” She laughed at how silly she’d been thinking she would make a good nurse and looked down at the grass in her hands. She stacked the blades together and then ripped them in half. “Plus I figured this way I could see whether or not I can handle the real world. My family wants me to come back after the war but I think I’d like to stay away.” 

“You’ve run away once, why would you want to do it again?” Rosie said. He was looking at her like he understood exactly how she was feeling. It was overwhelming.

“Exactly.” She raised her hand to toss the ripped up grass back out onto the ground next to the blanket. Rosie grabbed her hand from the air and Billie gasped. He was certainly forward but Christ, did she not mind. 

He lightly traced his finger along the scar on her palm, still red after her activities on the hardstand the day before. His touch gave her goosebumps. She didn’t dare say anything. She was too afraid of spoiling the moment. It seemed like Rosie had taken her hand without considering what he was doing. Billie couldn’t believe that she was really sitting out in the open with Rosie with him caressing her hand. She thought about her hands, her rough skin. The faint calluses that would probably never go away. Her hands weren’t smooth and pretty like the girls Billie figured Rosie was used to. He seemed like the type to fit in with the girls like Rebecca, the smart college girls with everything put together. But he was holding her hand, not Rebecca’s. For a moment Billie imagined what they looked like, sat close together and touching like this. Out in the open where anyone could walk by and see them. People would jump to conclusions. But… would she really mind? She shouldn’t be letting him touch her but he was treating her with a sort of reverence she didn’t think she deserved. She felt special and she wasn’t used to that. He let go of her hand and she slowly brought it back to her lap. 

“So were the clown rumors wrong?” Rosie asked.

“Is that what people are saying, that I’m a clown?” Billie laughed loud and bright. “At least there’s not a bet about it, or is there?” She thought for a brief moment then asked, “What did you think I did?” 

“I thought you could be anything and everything.”

“That’s not a real answer.” Billie teased. “But it’s funny you would say that because in the end there I really did a bit of everything.” She listed them off on her fingers, “Training, teaching, childcare, cooking, building stages, setting up lighting rigging, horseback riding” she trailed off, thinking. “Growing up in it I had no choice but learn how to fill any possible part that would need it. For the sake of the bet, however,” She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. “I was the best at the trapeze.” 

Billie looked up through her eyelashes at Rosie and couldn’t help but smile. He was so pretty up close. How had she avoided him for so long? She cleared her throat and sat back up. “We can pretend I didn’t tell you and you can get in on the bet if you’d like. I won’t even make you split it with me.” 

“You’re too kind.” Rosie chuckled. “But there was no bet, don’t you worry about it.” He lightly elbowed Billie in the side as he assured her. She loved the playful teasing. “The trapeze, huh? Flying up in the air?” Rosie asked. 

Billie blushed and nodded. She liked the look of awe in Rosie’s eyes. “I used to be in the shows more when I was younger but…” She shook her head to clear out a memory. “But now I’m an understudy and mostly help people train. Or back before the war I did. I’m here with you now.” She loved saying that, with you. She wanted to keep saying it to him. She couldn’t help but want to say it forever. 

It was quiet between them for a moment and Billie was struck by how much she didn’t mind the silence. It was comforting simply being around Rosie. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back to try and soak up the warmth from the sun they rarely saw. She was utterly blissed out. She hadn’t been this happy in ages. She felt so safe. 

Rosie’s voice pulled her back to reality by asking, “What’s it like, being in the air?” 

Billie opened her eyes and turned her head to look at Rosie again. “What do you mean?” She knew what he meant but still joked, “You go up in the air constantly you would know.”

“But not like you. My air is nothing like yours.”

Billie smiled. She looked up at the sky, raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. She considered her answer. “I’d still bet we feel the same. I mean… I don’t know. There’s really nothing quite like it. I think it’s the only place I’ll ever feel free. Everything happens so fast it’s exhilarating.”

The sounds of laughter and cheers, shouts from some game or another comes from over the mess building. Billie thought about seeing Rosie the other day playing and blushed. He was having so much fun it was adorable. She wondered if he missed playing sports.

Rosie seemed to have followed her train of thought because he commented, “You looked like you were having fun yesterday.” 

Billie reached her arms out and leaned back to go to her original position of leaning back on her arms but when she put her left hand down it covered two of Rosie’s fingers. Her eyes jumped to his face and met his own eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure what she should do, leave it alone or acknowledge it somehow. She didn’t move, holding her breath. A beat passed, then two. Then Rosie moved his hand from under hers and brought down to fully cover Billie’s instead. She felt her face heat and she looked away from Rosie. But she didn’t move her hand. 

“I did have fun yesterday.” She said. “Playing with the kids is always a treat. How about you? How was volleyball? Did it make you miss your athlete days?” 

“Now what do you know about my athlete days?” His thumb rubbed the top of her hand. Goosebumps ran up Billie’s arms. 

“Just that they happened. That you’re talented.” she couldn’t stop herself. “You’re good with your men, and everyone respects you as they should. They prepared you well for being out here. You’re good at what you do.” she felt like she could go on and on but cut herself off before she got carried away. She desperately didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

His eyes were wide and she was pleased to see a blush on his face. “You’re not the only one who did some asking around, you can’t judge me.” She said. 

“No judgement.” He shook his head. “I’m flattered. Relieved.” He gave a weak laugh like he couldn’t believe what was happening to him. “No,” he finally answered. “I don’t miss my days of being a jock. It feels like I’m on a team here in some twisted way.” 

“That makes sense. War is a team sport of sorts.” Billie had to admit. 

The two settled into a conversation that started with the Yankees then turned to New York and the differences between the city and the countryside they now resided in. Things got quiet between them. The air was filled with sounds of the base around them. Life was moving on forward but for them it was still. Billie and Rosie seemed to be in their own bubble that both hoped would never end. But knew it had to. 

Billie looked at her watch and let out a groan. It was time to get moving to the hospital for her shift or else she’d be late. And she couldn’t stand to be late again. She turned to look directly at Rosie with a deep frown on her face. 

“I have to get going to work now.”

“Is that the case?” 

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then let’s get you on your way, shall we?” 

They stood and worked together to fold up the blanket. Billie held it tightly to her chest. Rosie  offered his arm out to her which she took, blushing. At this point she figured her face was just going to stay red whenever she was around Rosie. 

They talked as they walked, slower than Billie should’ve but she didn’t have it in her to pick up the pace. Now that she had Rosie she didn’t want to let him go. Selfishly she wanted him all to herself. She wished she could always stay by his side. Obsessed. She was obsessed and needed to calm down. But it was hard when Rosie seemed to be hanging on her every word. 

After a brief lull in the conversation Rosie said, “You know, I’ve been hoping I would run into you. I’m glad it’s finally happened.” 

Somehow Billie sensed that this was something he was nervous to share. “What do you mean?” She asked. 

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” he reasoned, “but when I saw you that night it was like my world stopped. Everything collapsed in on itself until it was just you and me and nothing has ever felt more right to me.” 

Billie was astounded. There was no way this was happening. She thought it was just her. But he had felt the same thing.  There was no way that something like this could happen to a girl like her. 

Rosie continued, “But you were always just out of reach. It felt like you were running away from me for a while. It didn’t make sense how I couldn’t find you, I mean the base isn’t that big.” He let out a self deprecating laugh. “I know it was all in my head, why would you be running away from me? What I mean to say is that I’m glad to be walking with you, talking with you.” He smiled sweetly at her and Billie felt her heart stop. “Thankful that you’re letting me be with you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, really.” Billie quietly insisted. 

“You know, for a bit I thought I imagined you. You were such a vision that night you didn’t seem real. You seemed the sort of thing a lonely boy would dream up after a rough mission. But then at the flak house Ron started talking about this nurse who lived with the circus and I knew it had to be you. It couldn’t be anyone else. Once I knew you were real I knew there was nothing for me to worry about.” He patted the hand she had resting on his arm. 

Billie was struck by his honesty. She’d never been with a man this open and upfront about how he was feeling. She supposed that when you regularly faced death you stopped holding things back. It was only fair for her to do the same. It was time for her to make a confession. If for no other reason than she felt like she owed it to whatever was happening between them to lean into the honesty. 

“I hate to say it, really, but you weren’t imagining anything.” Billie didn’t look at him when she said it. 

Now it was his turn to ask, “What do you mean?” Rosie slowed them down but didn’t stop walking.

“I wasn’t running away from you I was just … avoiding situations where we might cross paths.”

Rosie looked shattered. “Why would you do that?”

“You terrify me.” Billie simply said. 

At that Rosie brought them to a stop. “I scare you?”

“More than anything else.” Billie felt ridiculous saying it but she had to. “Nothing compares to you, could ever compare to you.” She looked down at her hands. A thought popped into her head that she didn’t want to ask but she couldn’t stop herself. “Why didn’t you chase after me?” 

They were about a hundred yards from the hospital. She knew she shouldn’t be having this conversation out where anyone could come up and ruin whatever this was. There were enough people around that it was only a matter of time until someone came and stole Rosie’s attention from her. 

“I wasn’t sure how to make ‘we made eye contact once and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since’ not sound creepy and off-putting. So I kept to myself.” he shrugged. “I had this feeling that it would happen eventually so I didn’t try to force it even though I’d hoped it would happen sooner.”

“I know what you mean. Even when I was avoiding you I knew it was pointless. I was only delaying the inevitable.” she shrugged. 

“Well we’re here now.” Rosie said. 

“Here we are.” Billie agreed. 

“Together.” Rosie smiled at her and Billie felt warmed all the way down to her toes. 

“Together.” She repeated with a giggle. 

“Billie!” June’s voice rang through the air. She was standing in front of the hospital, gesturing to her watch. Billie got the gist. It was time to get moving. 

She looked to say goodbye to Rosie but he said, “We never introduced ourselves.”

“Do we have to? We know who we are. Both of us asked around about each other.” Billie thought it was a bit pointless.

“It’s the polite thing to do, come on.” Rosie insisted. 

Billie pulled her arm from his and took a step away and turned to face Rosie. She dipped into a quick curtsy then stuck out her hand. “Billie James. Circus runaway. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

Rosie took her hand and gave it a firm shake. “Lieutenant Robert Rosenthal, but I’d like it if you called me Rosie.”

“That the only thing you’d like me to call you?” She raised an eyebrow with her lips stretched in a smirk. Rosie blushed but gave back a smile of his own as he matched her energy. 

“Oh I’m sure we can figure something else out, just you and me.” 

“I’d like that.” Billie said. They were still shaking hands, looking dopily at each other. 

“Billie! Let’s go!” June was getting close to being actually upset which was saying something. June tended to be the most even keel of their little group. 

She pulled her hand from his and started walking backwards towards the hospital, still facing Rosie. “It was lovely meeting you, Rosie.”

“It was past time, wouldn’t you say?”

“Beyond.” Billie agreed. “Thank you for spending time with me.” She turned before she could hear Rosie’s response. She broke into a light jog then burst through the door as she rushed out apologies to June. 

“I’m sorry I lost track of time.”       

“I should’ve known it was going to happen when I set him on you.” June reasoned. 

“You did this?” Billie never would’ve guessed June would be the type to meddle. 

“Yes, you’re welcome, I expect to be a bridesmaid in your wedding. Now get situated. We have more to get done than I thought. I still got you something to eat though.” June gestured to the back closet where they stored any personal things. 

“You’re an angel.” Billie gave June a quick hug. 

She could tell her friend was stressed and didn’t want to add any more than she already had, so Billie snapped to it and got right to work. June was right, there were enough patients and projects to keep her busy well into the shift. It wasn’t until she had a brief moment to eat some of the food June had gotten from the mess hall that she thought about Rosie. Or rather let herself keep thinking about Rosie. She didn’t think it was possible for her to stop thinking about Rosie. Nothing felt real. But it was. 

#masters of the air #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fic #rosie rosenthal x oc #masters of the air oc #i posted a very early version of this a couple weeks ago that i don't think anyone read but if you did shhhhh no you didn't #feeling some type of way posting this please be nice it's been so long since i've written anything #rosiegirlie writes

[anjelicawrites]

So, this is about the war boys polycule. How did they all get together? Was the reader with Tom first and then they were joined by Billy? Or the other way around? Or even Tom and Billy together first and then they invited the reader to join? I would love to see what their first time together was like, if you’re up for writing it.

This came out longer than it was supposed to be nonnie, I'm sorry (?)

Warnings: jealousy, kissing, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, a bit of chocking, overstimulation. A/N: reader is AFAB and is nondescript (Tom only calls them "good girl" once, they/them pronouns used if needed.

NSFW and 18+ only please!

They find you at the pub, morose and drunk as you mull over your memories with Billy. You are too far gone to truly hear Billy's worried remarks and it's up to Tom to lift you up and carry you bridal style to your small flat.

You never meant to put a wench in their friendship, never meant to be that person, you never thought Tom would be interested in you; he did flirt with you while you were interviewing him, but he did it with everyone at the military hospital and with half of the pub, the night the whole of London was celebrating the end of the war and you wanted to do some private celebration with sweet Billy. You never meant to hurt Tom and their disagreement around your budding relationship with Billy came as a nasty surprise that woke you up from your post war fantasies, and forced you to choose between being a good person or a selfish one.

You've seen too much death and destruction in your job as a reporter during the war to cause damages yourself: this was the only reason why you told them with tears in your voice

"I'm out. I'm not going to be the person that destroys your friendship."

To then leave, deaf to Billy calling your name and dodging Tom's hand that tried to grab your wrist.

You disappeared into the crowd and, hopefully, from their lives, hoping that the damages weren't so big that they couldn't be fixed.

Tom's warmth and tobacco scent envelops you, lulling you into a deep sleep, aided by your drunken state. You don't hear the sounds of the city around you, nor them discussing whether or not they should put you in bed dressed, only to decide to remove your shoes and roll you in all the blankets you own. You don't hear them settle in your small living room, nor feel the soft kiss Billy leaves on your temple: you're dead to the world and to the thought that you've lost your chance at happiness.

When you wake up, the morning after, you're hangover and confused: it's not the first time you get drunk, but you've never left your shoes tidily next to the door, not you had ever wrapped yourself in so many blankets. Then you hear movement from the living room and worry sparks in your belly: who is in your small flat with you?

Grabbing your shoe as a weapon you swing the bedroom door open, only to be welcomed by the sight of Tom attacking your secret stash of biscuits and Billy drinking tea with a straight back.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

You say, before dashing to the loo to throw up all the alcohol you've managed to drink yesterday.

In between retching you hear their voices from beyond the closed door and elect to ignore them. You still play deaf while you wash your face and brush your teeth: what the hell happened last night?

You receive your answer during breakfast, while munching on the almost burnt toasts Billy made for you, since Tom has finished all your biscuits!

"And why are you two still here?".

Billy's cheeks burn fire red and he almost loses the hold on your grandma's teacup, Tom stares at you as if ready to fight.

"Billy and I discussed our situation." He then says. "The situation being me destroying your friendship?" "No. Us two being both interested in you and you feeling the same." Tom concludes. "I have some very hot tea at hand." "And we have a proposal for you."

Billy's voice cuts through the tension between you and Tom.

"And what's that?"

You're walking back and forth like a caged beast, the unlikely duo staring at you.

"Are you two serious? Don't answer that!" You pace some more. "You two really think that is a good idea? All of us together?" "You want us love and we want you as well." Tom says.

He's right and you know it.

You've been with Billy, you've chosen him but are not immune to Tom's roguish charm, if you have to be absolutely sincere with yourself.

"I need to think about it and I need time."

Tom isn't too thrilled when you tell them that they need to go back to the military hospital still housing them, where their friendship started; Billy looks at you, concerned that the idea might offend you, when you simply need to be on your own to mull everything over.

The assignment in Scotland, to cover one of the prisoner camps for the enemy soldiers, comes as a relief: you need to focus on something else that's not you, Billy and Tom.

Not that you can leave your memories back in London, they pop up in your mind when you curl under the covers in the drafty pub room you're occupying: Billy's reddened face when you first french kissed him or how he looked like he was going to have a coronary when he first saw you naked, Tom's rakish smile and the way he would look at you, how much your heart was torn between the two friends.

Does it have to be that way, though? Is there a way for their idea to truly function?

You work, write your assignments and eat the terrible food of the pub with those questions playing in the background of your mind as you ask yourself if you have the courage to say yes: you've done so many dangerous things during the war, yet none had ever felt like starting such a strange chapter of your life.

The part of your brain that has been facepalming at your terrible decision making, since you decided to start a career in journalism, is screaming at how stupid you are, how crazy this is. You never cared before and as sure as hell you don't now that Billy is on his knees, blushing as he helps you out of your stockings and panties and Tom is opening your blouse to gently fondle your breasts as he kisses your neck.

The bed is somewhere behind you three but it doesn't matter, Tom is keeping you upright as Billy's tongue licks your folds slowly, with long sweeps from your hole to your clit that make your knees wobble. His tongue leisurely explores every inch of your cunt; the wetter you are, the easier it is for him to switch between vertical sweeps and round ones that have his mouth plastered against your cunt, until his lips find your clit and latch there with a moan that makes you keen.

Your body arches when Billy's fingers slip inside your hole slowly, you've taught him how to drive you absolutely mad, and you barely notice one of Tom's hands traveling down your body to grab Billy's hair to keep him close to your center, not when Billy's pads find that place that has you whine like a hurt animal the more he fucks against it.

You come with a scream and the pleasure doesn't stop: Tom is keeping Billy's face against your cunt and Billy is all too eager to keep tasting you, after all those days apart. His hands grab your hips when you try to squirm away as Tom's hand curls gently around your throat when you start begging and whining because the pleasure is too much, too intense, too much pressure ready to explode in your tummy and it doesn't stop when you come again and again, until your body falls against Tom, only then they lay you on the bed to finish peeling your clothes off.

You feel like your mind is floating, tired as you are you cuddle closer to Billy, who is laying next to you: you are so tired you're ready to sleep. With your eyes closed you snuggle in his clean scent and don't hear Tom moving towards you, one of his big hands gently cups your wet cunt and you moan, so oversensitive already.

"Shh, I need to prepare you." He says, his voice uncharacteristically devoid of his usual abrasive tone. "Tom please." You're not sure what you're begging for, more pleasure or mercy from them; you don't have time to truly think about it, Billy gently turns your head so that your foreheads can touch.

"Can we?" He asks, still as shy as he was the first time he slept with you. "Yes." You whisper back.

You're not sure your body can manage more pleasure but you're happy to try, for your sweet Billy, and for Tom as well.

Tom's long fingers slip inside of you, you're so wet it's so easy for him to start scissoring you with squelching sounds that would embarrass you, if you weren't too focused in kissing Billy as one of his hands cups your breast to gently massage it, in stark contrast with the way Tom is fucking against your poor G spot: fast and deep pushes that make your whole body tremble and your muscles curl brutally around him, pleasure burning through your body until you're certain you're going mad with it, instead it explodes inside of you and you whine in Billy's mouth as full body shakes ravage your body.

Tom turns you on your back, covering you fully, his weight carried by his bent arm next your head as the other hooks one of your useless legs on his shoulder, before breaching you slowly, careful of his size and of the desire burning in his loins from the second he's first seen you.

"Good girl." He drawls, his accent thick in your ear. "Such a good girl."

Like a mantra he says as he pushes inside of you, deeper and deeper, faster with every pass, until he bottoms out and you arch under him, your eyes crossing with a whine, your hand seeking Billy, as if he's your tether and he comes to you, to kiss you again as Tom grabs your hips to make sure he's still deep inside of you when he rears back, before pounding inside of you with abandon, your muscles so loose and wet it's easy for him to ravage you, your cunt the perfect fist around his cock, your body arching under him without your control, simply craving all the pleasure he's willing to give you, until you come with a shriek.

With a curse Tom turns you on your front and enters you again, his hands on your breasts as he supports you against his chest, his hips pistoning against you, your juices leaking obscenely down your tights. Billy's soft lips land on your abused clit to suck desperately, hungry for you again and you cry and beg, broken by your men, your body trembles, your hips try to squirm away from the dual onslaught of pleasure. But you have nowhere to go, you're trapped as pressure builds and builds inside of you and you come all over Billy's face and Tom's cock, your mind blank, body lax in their arms.

Your mind floats as they hug you tight, their lips kissing you everywhere they can and tether you back to shore, to them, to Billy's desperately hard cock nestled between the lips of your overused cunt. Tom's seed is still flowing out of your hole, marking your thighs and Billy's erection, not that any of you care, your body has never been so ready for Billy, the tiredness of your muscles notwithstanding.

"Please." You moan against him. "I love you." He murmurs against your lips, his cheeks aflame.

Billy is gentle when he enters you, slow pushes and pulls, mindful of how sore you are but he is relentless, his hips grinding against your clit, his lips around one pert nipple and he moans at the taste of your skin. You call his name and Tom's, ready to be the vessel of his pleasure, already drunk on yours that you don't expect Billy to cradle your tired body against himself, before he kneels on the bed, letting you sit on his erection, now so deep inside of you that you are sure you're not going to be able to walk for a week. Tom helps Billy wound your legs around his hips, so that he can rock inside of you with his face against your breasts and God help you, you can feel the pleasure spiraling again, and it's not only Tom's fingers making slow, circular motions on your clit, it's the closeness, it's the way Billy kisses your drenched skin as his cock massages your G spot continuously, riding the tendrils of the past orgasms still singing in your nerves.

"I can't, Billy...".

He needs to come, you can see in the way his face scrunches as he fights against the pleasure; you can't orgasm anymore, your body isn't capable to go again, but you don't care, as long as you can give him the pleasure he deserves.

"One last time, please." He begs, his face so earnest and open you can feel tears at the corners of your eyes. "Be good." The drawl of Tom's accent makes you shiver. "You have another one in you, for Billy." "No, no, Tom please." You whine, weak and lost. "No more." "Shh, I know you can." Tom growls, hungry for you. "I can't if you don't come with me, please." Billy begs with a desperate voice.

You make an animalistic sound at the back of your throat when Billy's hips rock faster and Tom's fingers push tighter on your abused clit; Billy's fingers grab your skin to push you closer to him as his cockhead bullies your G spot relentlessly and Tom's fingers slip on the squelching mess that's your center. With inarticulate sounds your body tries to escape their hold and they just keep you there, squashed between them, Billy's lips on your breasts leave marks he'll later kiss, Tom's teeth worry your neck as he pinches your clit cruelly, deaf to your whines of pleasurable pain, to how broken you sound when pleasure ebbs and ebbs and you crash in their hold, Billy following you with a long moan.

Billy's tears of pleasure mingle with yours as you three fall on the destroyed sheets; your skin almost hurt where it touches them, but you don't care, because you need this, need them as they do you.

This, this is the answer to the questions plaguing you in Scotland: simply loving one another, building something together instead of running away, giving you three a fighting chance, despite how uncommon their idea had been. And despite the voice in your head: it was wrong back when you started being a journalist and it is wrong now that your body is cradled by theirs. This is worth fighting for and God have mercy on whomever will ever try to separate you three.

#answered #war boys polycule #tom bennett x reader x billy taylor #tom bennett x y/n x billy taylor #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x y/n #billy taylor x y/n #billy taylor x reader #tom bennett #billy taylor

[jen-with-a-pen]

ALL TIED UP - TWO

Previous ⊹ Series

summary: The start of the week that changed everything. Bucky and Sam propose something that Steve shouldn't have agreed to. A good brother is a good brother, though... right?

pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

word count: 1.17k

warnings: Bucky and Sam are true frat bros, Clint and Tony are somewhere I swear, annoying roommates, plot development

a/n: never thought i'd see the day again but: here's chapter two! i'm excited to keep building this world and to drag everyone along for the ride. again: mind the slowburn and plot dev, i promise i'm getting there ♥

The most specialest of special thanks to two of my loves @vonalyn and @lunarbuck for helping me flesh out this idea and enable me in my destruction ♥ i owe you both a beefy alpha soon

gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Last Monday.

“Rogers! Rogers! We know you’re in there!”

“Yeah, c’mon, Stevie! We need t’ talk!”

Fists bang on the flimsy wooden door to Steve’s bedroom, threatening to break it down. Steve rubs his face with the back of a (cleaner) hand as music continues to blare out of his earbuds, charcoal dust from his latest drawing assignment now caking his desk, hands, and floor. He groans. Irritation and a slew of curses beg to launch off his tongue. Pressing his lips together tightly, Steve tosses his earbuds onto his desk and shoves back his chair. The legs scrape against the old wood flooring, screeching loudly and announcing his surrender as he walks to the door. He unlocks it– undoing the deadbolt, too– and swings it open, eyes shooting sharpened daggers at the stupid, knowing grins plastered on his frat brothers’ faces. 

Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson beam at Steve, trouble and mischief brewing behind their eyes. 

As the heads of the household and leaders of the Sigma Beta Theta (ΣΘΒ) Fraternity, one of the oldest– and most infamous– frats in Richards College Greek life, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson were known campus and state-wide for their level of commitment in Greek life. Fourth years in whatever program they’re enrolled in, Steve couldn’t recall; some rumors claimed they were ‘Super Seniors’ who decided they couldn’t bear to part with their beloved frat. Others said they’ve been out of school, already graduated a year or two before, but were still allowed to run the frat since Bucky’s step-daddy was elected Dean a couple years back. The timing lined up, Steve had surmised, once he’d been pledged.

Sam and Bucky each prided themselves in their muscular, god-like statures to their own accord. Their builds were accentuated by broad shoulders, thick arms and thighs, abs hard enough to crack an egg– and each had one hell of a sex drive, Steve learned, during his first night in the house. 

He adapted rather quickly to falling asleep with his earbuds in. The risk of choking on his own headphone cord was worth a better night’s sleep than lying awake to the constant thump thump thump-ing that came clearly through the walls surrounding his room. Every. Fucking. Night. 

But, Steve had to hand it to them. Even they weren’t entirely self-centered. They still thought and cared about their frat and fellow brethren: mandating daily workouts in the morning (no matter how early your first class is), requiring frat colors to be worn to every sporting event (even chess), and everyone being forced to take a minimum of three shots at every house-held party (including ones during weekdays, midterms, finals, and holidays). 

Steve had been reluctant since the moment he signed his name on the scholarship contract. Something that day made him feel as if he’d signed his life away. He knew that joining a frat was an integral part of his full-ride– that he promised his mother ‘college was taken care of’ so she wouldn’t have to pick up even more shifts at the county hospital. What he didn’t know was which frat to join. That part was up to him. Sigma Theta Beta chose him more than he chose it.

Steve blinks.

Sam and Bucky lean against either side of the doorway, waggling their brows at Steve and glancing from one another to him. Steve rolls his eyes, sighing heavily with an annoyed edge. He swallows the curses and puts on the most neutral tone he can possibly muster. 

“What.” 

Shit.

Bucky hitches a shoulder and looks to Sam, who exaggeratedly clears his throat.

“Rogers! You gotta stop lookin’ so mean, man!”

“You made me mess up my drawing, again, man,” Steve seethes through clenched teeth. Sam waves a hand absently.

“Ah, you’ll be alright,” he scoffs, “anywho, Buck n’ I–”

“Don’t call me Buck,” Bucky growls.

“–ahem, Bucky and I heard from a lil’ birdy that it’s your birthday this weekend–”

“–and we were wondering,” Bucky chimes in, as if on cue, “if we could dedicate this weekend’s party to you!” 

Steve blanches. His brow furrows after a second, suspicion stabbing him in the gut. 

“You,” he points to both brothers, “Wanna throw a party this weekend. For me?” 

Bucky and Sam nod in unison, grins and gazes growing. 

“Yeah, man! You deserve it,” Bucky says, clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Sam quickly copies him. It’s not reassuring in the slightest.

“Why?”

“Because! As an official pledge, newbies always get thrown a birthday party,” Sam drives an index finger into Steve’s chest.

Steve raises his brow, but buries it again after giving the proposal more than a millisecond of thought.

“My birthday was in July. I wasn’t even pledged yet.”

Sam huffs, smile faltering as he looks to Bucky with slight annoyance behind his eyes. 

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, it was, but,” Bucky mirrors Sam’s prodding finger digging into Steve’s sternum, “this is for your fraternity birthday. Plus, you’re the first pledge in three years, so you get an extra special celebration.”

Their grins begin to make Steve squirm. He pushes their hands off him. The whole thing feels dirtier than his own, charcoal-covered hands. He can see through their shitty façade of charisma, but can’t make out what’s on the other side. Whatever it is, it makes him feel uneasy and ungrateful at the same time.

He’s been the newbie for the last few weeks, and all he’s done is keep to himself and draw for hours in his room. He hasn’t made any real friends, aside from the exchanged niceties from a classmate or two in his gen ed courses. He should be getting out there, getting to know his housemates– his ‘brothers’– better, shouldn’t he? After all, he is an only child. He didn’t grow up with the siblings Bucky, Sam, or Clint did. Tony was an only child, sure, but Steve couldn't find another thing to even relate to the guy about. 

He should trust them, give this thing a shot.

Right?

Steve looks Bucky up and down cautiously before turning to Sam, sighing and plastering on a half-smile.

“Alright, sure. I’m game.”

Bucky and Sam erupt into fist pumps and high fives while Steve stands in the threshold with a knife in his gut jamming further and further into his innards. 

“You’re gonna have the time of your fuckin’ life, Stevie,” Bucky reassures him. His fingers dig deeper into Steve’s shoulder and he flinches at the bruising pain. For a split second, he swears he sees a glint of something dark in Bucky’s eyes. Something dangerous. He can’t help but respond with a mumbled ‘okay’ before the two leave to raid the kitchen downstairs. 

Steve turns back into his room, shutting and locking the door and before leaning back against it. His head falls back, cushioned by jackets and sweatshirts hanging from their hooks. He rubs his face, no longer caring about the gritty charcoal covering his face.

What the fuck did he agree to?

#All Tied Up #All Tied Up Series #Two #Big Red Bow Series #Steve Rogers POV #Steve's POV #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #college!au #modern!au #steve rogers series #slowburn #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #jen writes #series #chris evans characters #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans captain america #chris evans steve rogers

[minawritesfanfic]

Backyard Boy Part 3

Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Word Count: 2k+

Summary: School is officially back in session and things are looking great, well we’re looking great. An unexpected reunion at the beginning of class is throwing you for a loop, and it seems you aren’t going to be able to avoid the impending confrontation. But hey pizza with your favorite drummer boy is bound to make you feel better, right..?

Part 3

Previous Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Summer came and went faster than I wanted it to but at least it was fun, I was able to split my time evenly between hanging out with Rodrick and Racrn. Racrn is the silly little acronym I came up with using the first letters of everyone's names: Renatta, Alejandro, Cecily, Reese, and Nolan. Apparently, they liked it too, and it ended up sticking as a nickname for the group. It was just an easier way to refer to the group compared to ‘insert someone's name and them’. Lame and obnoxiously wordy.

School finally started up again, in my senior year. In a sorta new town, new friends, new clothes, and a very new me. I walked into the school like I had months before during the last week of school, this was different though. No longer did tension hang heavy in the air from final exams, instead the air was full of life and excitement as students talked through the hallways buzzing with joy and telling their peers the glories or tragedies of their summer break.

I exhaled with a smile, very happy about the changed atmosphere, and made my way through the sea of people to my locker. It was in one of the main school hallways which thankfully wasn’t too crowded at the moment. I opened it and tucked my backpack neatly inside before pulling out some of the locker decorations I’d bought the week before. I lined the inner part of the door with taped-up pictures, one from hangouts with Racrn, pictures of me and Rodrick, and a few cute stickers. I smiled at the sight of my freshly customized locker then grabbed the stuff I’d need for class before shutting and locking my locker.

I headed towards the stairs hoping to make it to my first period in time when I spotted a certain black-haired dork standing off to the side. He talked animatedly to his friends as he twirled a drumstick idly in his hand, he glanced over at me when he presumably felt me staring. He flashed me a grin and I waved and mouthed a ‘Don’t be late to class’ before walking off. I didn’t manage to catch him rolling his eyes before I disappeared up the stairs though.

My first few classes weren’t that bad, it was a bunch of electives since I opted out of most of the classes I already had enough credits for. Except for math, for some stupid reason, I needed to take it. My old school was apparently weird and because I didn’t finish out the secound semester for math I didn’t get the full credit, why or how that is I have no clue. So I buckled in mentally to take another math class, which of course was pre-calculus and my next class.

I walked into the classroom and it was partially empty as there were still three minutes until the bell rang. I smiled seeing Renatta was in class with me nodding along as a blonde girl spoke to her. I waved as I walked over, she waved back and the blonde girl turned to look at me.

“O m g! If it isn’t little ole California Sunshine themself, what on Earth brings you to this side of the world?” Heather fucking Hills said with that same condescending tone and smile on her pretty face.

I forced a smile while sitting down behind Renatta who looked like a deer in headlights, her mouth agape and all, looking between the two of us. I knew I would have a lot of explaining to do later and I was not at all looking forward to it.

“Nice to see you’re still the Same Heather, never thought I’d see you again.”

‘More like I hoped I’d never see you again.’

“I know, but seriously what are you doing here? Didn’t you totally say you’d never leave California, like ever?” She asked, quaking her head to the side, her face etched with fake curiosity and a hint of unease.

“Yeah that was the plan, but there was a pretty bad earthquake that ended up splitting our home in half. My parents were tired of earthquakes and moved us out here to completely avoid them. What are you doing here? I thought you lived in Oregon?”

“Okay, I’m going to cut you guys off right there. How the hell do you two know each other?!” Renatta asked, flabbergasted as she looked back and forth between us, Heather glanced quickly over at me but I didn’t even have to look at her to know what she was feeling.

“We met on a family vacation, she was in the room next to mine and we just ended up.. hanging out,” I said with a shrug and Heather just looked me up and down before turning away.

“Hanging out is a bit of an overstatement, but whatever.”

Renatta looked ready to ask more questions but as the bell rang, Mr. Lanaski began class giving her no opportunity to. I knew that this would only be a temporary measure though, as I had lunch with the whole Racrcn group next period. I slumped back into my chair and absently listened to the teacher as he gave us a rundown of how his class would be, it was even worse with me receiving knowing looks from both Renatta and Heather. Who I would also probably have to talk too soon, and I had no idea how that conversation would go.

★ ✮ ★

The bell rings and both girls try and drag me away with them out of the class, they cast glares at each other while everyone else is quickly filling out of the classroom. I managed to break free from their grasp but the looks on both their faces told me that I’d regret even trying to leave, I just started to pack my things as they argued about who gets to talk to me first.

“They were my friend before they were yours!” Heather huffs crossing her arms.

“I thought you guys barely even hung out, besides don’t you have a class to go to? We’re headed to lunch.” Renatta snapped back flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Oh really? That’s perfect, we’re all friends, yeah, so I’ll join you at your lunch table.”

“Oh, absolutely not!-“ Renatta began but I immediately opted out of sitting with Heather AND Racrn at one lunch table, before either of them could react I grabbed my stuff and bolted out of the classroom.

Thankfully the hallway was still crowded so I could blend in and quickly get away, once I felt safe I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I headed to my locker ready to drop off my stuff and spend lunch anywhere but the library when I felt someone blow on the back of my neck and whisper.

“Boo.” I jumped and slammed my locker shut, I turned slowly praying it wasn’t Heather or Renatta but thankfully it was just Rodrick.

“Jeez Rodrick, don't do that! You scared the ever-loving shit outta me!” I said with a heavy sigh and leaned back against my locker while Rodrick stepped back his hands in the air to surrender.

“Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t resist, anyways where are you headed next?”

“I have lunch right now but I’m definitely not going to that cafeteria, for a number of reasons.”

“Perfect, cuz I was wondering if you would be down to skip the rest of school with me. It’s all just boring ass-“

I didn’t even let him finish trying to convince me, “Yes! I mean yeah, let’s cut school. Nothing important I’m going to miss out on, let’s go.”

He was a bit surprised by how readily I agreed but rolled with it, he led me out of the school to where his van was parked then we peeled out of the parking lot. I let out a relieved sigh as I watched the school grow smaller in the rearview mirror, though I could see Rodrick eyeing me curiously out of the corner of my eye.

“So… what do you want to go and do?”

“You asked me to ditch and didn’t even have a plan to do anything?”

“I didn’t expect to get that far okay! I figured you’d be a stick in the mud and I’d just have to ask Ben to skip with me.” I just laughed and shook my head.

“Fine, since I’m skipping lunch let’s go grab something to eat then we could hang out at my place. How’s that sound?”

“You had me at lunch.” He said with a grin speeding off to the nearest fast food joint.

★ ✮ ★

We ended up splitting a pizza, Rodrick ate on the floor while I sat in a bean bag chair I’d recently gotten. Rodrick talked on and on all, while he ate, I was perfectly content on just half listening and trying to be grossed out that he talked while he ate. I was kind of lost in my own head, trying to figure out what to do. I glanced over at my phone and sat on my bed, I was not looking forward to the dozens of calls I likely already had from Renatta.

“- and then he turned into an alien and kidnapped me… Dude, are you even listening?” Rodrick said and I snapped my gaze down to him, nodding quickly.

“Uh huh yeah, an alien guy kidnapped you- no I’m sorry I wasn’t at all. Just start again from the party I’m listening to now.” He shook his head and sat up, taking another slice of pizza.

“Nah it’s not that important, talk to me. You’ve seemed out of it since we left school, what’s up?” He took a bite out of his pizza and gestured for me to talk, I let out a heavy sigh and sunk deeper into the bean bag chair.

“My entire world kinda just flipped on its axis? I mean it’s not that huge of a deal but maybe I’m minimizing it cuz if I do start thinking it’s that big of a deal I might just die on the spot. But uh so you know how I lived in Cali, right? I was on vacation in a different town there and met this girl, we bonded over some stuff and became really close. Well turns out she goes to our school and is kind of friends with Renatta, both of whom really want to talk to me. And I’m just not ready for it.” I paused letting some of that sink in as I finished the rest of my slice of pizza before going for another one.

“When do you think you’ll be ready to talk to them?”

“I don’t really know to be honest, I don’t even know what to say to either of them. But I can’t talk to one without talking to the other, and I can’t even talk to anyone about what we need to talk about. Which would easily explain how we know each other, just ugh I might just drop out.” I groaned and angrily took a bite out of my pizza as I stared up at my ceiling, Rodrick stayed silent for a moment thinking about what I said.

“Well you have to talk to them eventually, but they’ll both have to accept that that will only happen on your own time. So just like let them know that and take it slow. If they’re even worth your time they’ll understand and wait until you’re ready, especially if it’s important.” He said in between mouthfuls, though his words resonated with me.

He was right, I didn’t have to explain and talk about everything right now. Heather’s cool but she knows how much I have at stake here too and should understand where I’m coming from, and Renatta is still a newish friend and shouldn’t expect me to relay every little detail of my life to her.

“Thanks, Rodrick, that was really helpful. I don’t owe either of them an explanation or my time right now. You really rock dude.” I said with a smile feeling a little bit better.

But then the doorbell rang, again and again and again. I jumped shocked by the incessant ringing, Rodrick looked as surprised as I was and got up. He went into the hallway and peered through the blinds out the window before coming back into the room.

“By any chance.. was that girl you met on vacation Heather Hills?” He asked wide-eyed as he held the door frame, I nodded and stood shakily.

I could tell her that we would talk later, it would be simple enough right? It’s not like we left off on bad terms, we left off on great ones, right? No amount of reassurance seemed to work as I descended the stairs and made my way to the front door, the doorbell still ringing loudly through the house. But the closer I got the more clearly I could hear her yelling, I took a deep breath and opened the door. She was mid-doorbell press and all of Racrn stood behind her, all of them equally confused and loving the drama.

“Uhm Hi…?”

Previous Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

#reader insert #x reader #fluff #minawritesfanfic #my writing #rodrick heffley x reader #drama #doawk rodrick #doawk #fanfic #fanfiction #part 3

[hischierdevils]

Lie To Me | M.B.

note: based off this song by 5sos of course

summary: mat sees you for the first time after your breakup causing both of you to confront your feelings

warnings: angst (do I even need to warn you?)

wc: 1.7K

I saw you looking brand new overnight

I caught you looking too, but you didn't look twice

You look happy

Mat thought he was daydreaming at first. How many times had he thought he saw your face in a crowd? The back of your head just in front of him on the sidewalk? When he notices you sitting directly across from him at a basketball game, he thinks his mind is playing tricks on him again. 

He turns away from your look-alike, responding to something his date said. When he looks up again, you’re looking directly at him. A chill goes down his spine as you gaze into each other’s eyes from across the court. It’s really you. He hasn’t seen you in months and now here you are in the same building. 

He watches as the blonde guy sitting next to you leans over and kisses the top of your head. Mat’s vision turns red as you turn your head and smile at the man, placing your hand on his thigh. The guy goes in for a kiss on the lips but you turn your head, giving him your cheek. 

He watches you throughout the rest of the game but you never look in his direction again. Your hair is shorter since the last time he saw you and you’re practically glowing. You look happy. Clearly you’re not hurting as much as he is.

The man sitting next to you can’t keep his hands off of you and it’s pissing Mat off to no end. Not that he has much room to talk considering he’s here with his own date but it’s not anything serious. Any time he tries to talk to a girl he ends up comparing them to you. They never measure up.

Flashing back to New York City

Change your flight so you stay with me

Remember thinking that I got this right

He remembers the night you both said I love you for the first time. Mat had a game and he was so excited to see you standing by the glass wearing his jersey during warm ups. Tito chirped him about it endlessly but he didn’t care. He never thought the level of happiness he was feeling was possible. 

The high he was on came crashing down during the third period when a deflected puck came up and hit him right in the face, causing his face shield to cut into the bridge of his nose. He got off the ice on his own and walked down the tunnel to the locker room. 

You were nervously waiting for him in the hallway when he finally left the locker room after the game. He had stitches on his face and a broken nose along with being on concussion protocol. “Let’s get you home, puck magnet.” You joked as he pulled you into a hug. 

He rested his chin on your head, enjoying the feeling of having you in his arms. “I have to get you to the airport.” You were supposed to be getting on a red eye so you could make it back to Boston for your work meeting.

“I canceled my flight.” You informed him as you stepped back from his embrace. 

“What?” His head was pounding and the painkillers he was given were making it hard for him to think. He knew the meeting was big for you so why would you elect to miss it? “Why?” 

“I want to stay with you and make sure you’re okay.” You said as you took his hand to lace your fingers through his. “Is that alright?” You blushed, realizing you should’ve asked if he wanted you to stay with him longer before canceling your flight. 

“Yeah, of course.” He laughed slightly high on painkillers as you led him down the hallway and out of the arena. “But why?”

Frowning as you looked at the confused look on his handsome face, you stood on your tiptoes to gently kiss his cheek. “Because I love you, Mat.” 

He turned his head and kissed you hard, ignoring the pain he was in. “I love you too, y/n.” Everything was alright if he had you. He knew at that moment that you were the one for him. 

It's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me

I know that you've been holding on to someone else

And now I can't sleep

I ain't happy

You spotted Mat the second you sat down in your seat at the game. You thought it would be fine, knowing how into basketball he gets. Then he caught you looking at him and you swore time stopped. Even from across a basketball court, Mat’s eyes still paralyzed you. He was with a girl and you tried not to let it bother you as you kept your focus on everything but him. 

You felt his gaze on you all night and it made you flinch away from your date, Greg, every time he tried to touch you. Greg wasn’t anything serious, just a guy you had gone out with a couple times. No one was ever going to come close to Mat in your eyes so why put in the effort to really date someone else? 

It wasn’t until you got home after the game that you started wondering who the girl with Mat was. You didn’t look at her long enough to pick out any features but you knew it wasn’t Liana. You were the one that left. It was completely fair for Mat to start dating again. It still hurts to physically see him with another woman. 

Greg snores softly as you lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. The clock on your nightstand reading 3:04 AM is the only thing stopping you from picking up your phone and calling Mat to ask him things you no longer have a right to ask. 

Who is she? Is he serious about her? Is he holding her the same way he used to hold you? 

Flashing back to New York City

I was done, but you undid me

Classic me to run when it feels right

Your heart aches as you watch the shadows on the ceiling, thinking about the night you left. It was snowing outside Mat’s Brooklyn apartment. The two of you had spent the day finding a real christmas tree and you were excited to decorate it the following day. 

Mat made the two of you cocoa as you started Elf on the tv. “Here you go baby.” He handed you a mug before sitting on the couch next to you. “What are we watching?”

“Thank you.” You smiled at him before taking a sip of the warm liquid. “The best Christmas movie ever made.” 

“Die hard?”

You rolled your eyes at him and playfully pushed him away. “Die Hard is not a Christmas movie. It’s barely even a good movie.” 

Mat blinked at you. “I hope our kids don’t inherit your horrible taste.” 

The blood in your veins turned to ice as you looked at him. “Kids?” 

If he heard the change in your voice he didn’t show it. He placed a hand on your thigh and smiled. “Yeah, two maybe three little Barzal’s running around at christmas time? It’d be perfect.” He winked at you. “After I make you my wife of course.” 

“Of course.” You felt like throwing up. He wanted to make you his wife? Have children? You hadn’t even been together a year yet. Your hands started to shake as you brought your mug up to your lips again. There were so many things you wanted to experience still. He was already thinking about kids?

You watched Mat in silence while he watched the movie. Occasionally he  would laugh at something on the screen and you’d find yourself smiling. You loved him more than you ever thought possible but now you were questioning if you were right for him. 

By the end of the movie, Mat was sleeping. You leaned over and kissed his forehead one last time before you wiggled out of his grip and went to back your bag. You knew you were taking the coward’s way out but you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye and tell him you were leaving him. He’d want a reason. If you told him you could never give him kids he’d compromise for you and you knew that wasn’t fair. One day he’d realize you did him a favor. That’s what you told yourself anyway when you left. 

Now I wish we never met

'Cause you're too hard to forget

While he's taking off my dress

I know she's laying on your chest

I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

Your phone begins buzzing on your night stand, the vibration echoing in the quiet room. You pick it up quickly, hoping it won’t wake up Greg. “Hello?” 

“Y/n?” The sound of Mat’s voice brings tears to your eyes as you slowly get out of bed. Greg lets out a soft hum as he rolls over and gets comfortable. 

“Yeah?” You talk quietly as you walk out of the bedroom. The apartment is dark so you move around by memory. 

“Are you with him?” You can hear the pain in his voice and it kills you to know that you put it there. 

You swallow a sob. “Are you with her?” 

You hear him sigh and you can picture him running his hand through his hair. “Sometimes I wish I never met you.” His words slice through your heart and it’s all you can do to hold in a gasp. “You’ve ruined every other girl for me.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Tears well up in your eyes as you sink to the kitchen floor. “I never meant to hurt you.” When Mat called you the night you left you ignored him. He showed up at your apartment but you refused to let him in. One look in his warm brown eyes and you would’ve been done for. You couldn’t let him throw the future he wanted away for you. 

“Just answer one question.” He says. 

Your lip wobbles as you breathe out, “Okay.” 

“Do you still love me?” His voice breaks on the word love and your tears begin to fall. 

You open your mouth and close it a few times, wondering if you should lie or tell him the truth. 

“Mat, I-”

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x y/n #mat barzal #my writing

[thegengarprincess]

“Dobro jutro,ljubi.” “Dobro jutro,sonček.”

————————————————————————————————

Gene: Pure tooth-rotting *FLUFF*

Summery: Just a glimpse of what a normal lazy morning looks like 4 the husbands ever,except it’s their half-year anniversary N after some reminiscing,Jan decides 2 ask his now boyfriend of half a year if he still remembers the morning after they became official,and boy does Nace remember~

Disclaimer: *All* of this is completely fictional and im not associating this with the real people whatsoever,I just like using these silly lil pretty Balkan men as my Barbie dolls,the moment either of them say their uncomfortable with fanfic im deleting the whole thing,k.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*🐈‍⬛🐕*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* This was it.By now it had been almost a whole year since Martin brought *him* to meet the boys,the man who would replace one of his best friends all so they could keep making music.Jan knew why he had to leave yet it still stung to say goodbye when Martin had been through basically *everything* with the band till now.But what Jan didn’t know back then,no matter how much he believed logic would *always* triumph over love,was that “the new Martin” would end up proving only *sometimes* logic can triumph over love,*especially* when it comes to his now boyfriend and bassist,*Nace Jordan.* Which is how he found himself here,snuggled up in Nace’s bed with an arm wrapped securely yet ever so gently around his slightly smaller frame,Ollie curled up near his legs and snoring just as loudly as a *certain* brunette who had a tendency of reminding him of the small creature sometimes.He slowly awoke to the sound of a familiar yawn which could only come from one person,the one who had been sleeping beside and stayed with him through every rough night for *months* now,and hopefully forever when he can finally afford to go ring shopping,only the best for *his* Nacko afterall and nothing less. Nace tossed onto his side so he could see that perpetually half asleep face he’d come to adore so *so* much,when said face asked him a question along the lines of: “Do you still remember the morning after we became..*this*?” Jan said to him,voice still raspy from sleep ,using his finger to point at himself than Nace. “You mean the morning after we fucked eachother’s brains out in some dingy club bathroom while the rest of the boys were shitfaced drunk N doing god knows what then you told me the first time we saw eachother you forget how to *breath*.” he chuckled which also elected a giggle out of Jan,a sound he would *love* to keep in a jar and listen to on repeat when he has a off day. “Forgetting how 2 breath wasn’t the first thing I did when we met,you know.” “Then what was?” “How to think after I saw ur tattoo sleeve up close for the first time during one of our first gigs together,you had *no* idea what that did to me back then.” slowly tracing along the ink that adorned his boyfriends arm,all away to his shoulder as he planted a kiss on one of the last ink covered patches on the others skin. “Buttt I do now,alot actually.” “How so?” Nace pulled him closer and whispered the answer into his ear,breath ghosting slightly over his lobe,making a small smile tug at his lips. “Cause of all the bite marks and hickeys I always find scattered on them the next morning~” it was Jan’s turn to laugh now when Nace started to place a trail of kisses down his ear.watching the tips go a dark shade of red which always looked good when he was the one wearing it. “Not like you can really blame me tho,tattoos are hot as fuck *especially* when they belong to my extremely sexy and beautiful boyfriend!” he cupped the boyfriends in questions face in his hands and just *admired* him till Nace spoke again. “And who’s that?” Nace questioned as if he didn’t know who he belonged to. “You.” were the only words that came out of Jan’s mouth before he kissed him,slow but it was one of the sweetest kisses he’d ever given,that’s only natural when ur man’s a literal *angel* with the softest lips known to man afterall. Tho it stared off as a innocent “good morning /wake up kiss” which *may* have led to a full on makeout session,both men stayed like that for awhile,only breaking the kiss so they could get some air in their lungs,gently pressing their foreheads together and staring into the others eyes for what could have been an eternity,not like either of them would mind of course. “Dubro jutro,ljubi.” “Dubro jutro,sonček.” And if Jan and Nace from half a year ago knew this is what that faithful day where Martin brought him into the studio to the boys would lead to,maybe getting a new bassist wasn’t the worst idea in the world afterall~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*💜❤️*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

(BIG BIG TY 2 ONE OF MY FAVE MOOTS @da-proti-toku-grem 4 ANSWERING MY ASK EARLIER N GETTING MY MOTIVATION 2 WRITE BACK INTO GEAR N HELPING WITH LAST MIN NERVES B4 POSTING!! 🥹🫶🥹🫶🥹🫶🥹🫶🥹🫶 ur truly such.a.f4n.*SWEETHEART* N I hope one day I can be just as good of a writer as U are! I fr always start kicking my feet N twirling my hair when I see U in my inbox,seeing the lil notification with ur user *ALWAYS* makes my day better + U were one of the first blogs i started following N was a huge idol of mine back when I was a lurker!! X33 luv ya Maca ,4 aslong as we have the boys and 4ever <3333333333)

#first time writing a fic N how the *F4* do U guys do this 😭😭 #just wanted 2 write smh fluffy 4 the husbands cuz they deserve 2 live a happy life were everything’s perfect N nothing hurts :3 #also cuz im *STARVING* 4 Jance flavoured fluff N if I have 2 write it myself then so be it! ☺️☺️ #big juicy and Jan je bog #joker out #nace jordan #jan peteh #jance #fanfic #I lobe them sm it’s not even *fair* anymore :’33

[feralforfrank]

LOVE CONFESSIONS IN THE DARK.

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW X FEM!READER

summary you've been tasked to grab your clean clothes from the laundry room during a storm. little do you know, a certain someone has a similar task.

cw ANGST, but it's the last time. FLUFF. kind of bad writing. storms, thunder, the dark. feelings!!! miscommunication fr, definitely not how the navy operates, but idc. NON-DESCRPTIVE READER. TELL ME IF I MISSED ANYTHING.

a/n THE LONG AWAITED LAST PT3 IS HEREEEE. im feeling kind of...weird about the ending. i like it, but i dont love it. i hope you peeps enjoy it, though!! sorry for taking so long to write and post it :/

masterlist | taglist

Sunday noon came around quicker than you wanted it. You'd slept until eleven and elected to stay in bed until it was time to eat. When that time came, you ate Penny's homemade burritos that Nix had sneaked in without the boys seeing.

The two of you ate in your bed and then laid back down. Phoenix was literally on top of you, her hands supporting her head. If Hangman were to walk in now, he'd never let her live this down. Badass Nix with messy bed hair, practically cuddling her heartbroken friend. It was a rare sight.

"I'm exhausted, Nix. I wish I'd never opened my goddamn mouth." You sighed, rubbing your temples.

You were tired. After your confession, you raced back here, flopped under the covers and cried, much like the night before. You wanted to take everything back—every word, movement and facial expression. Rooster hated you, and that was the only way you could get close to him—the hatred—but now you've shattered that wall. 

He doesn't like me. I ruined whatever connection we had. Fuck that stupid mouth of mine. Why did I have to react so poorly both times? He's not mine. I want him to be mine. No. Yes. Fucking hell, this headache. Can't we go back to normal—our normal? That has been your train of thoughts for God knows how long, and it was seriously tiring you out.

"Everything will work out for you. Rooster is full of surprises," Phoenix responded reassuringly.

You looked at her weirdly. "What kind of fucking riddle is that? Have you lost your mind?"

She just laughed, sitting up. "Shut up. I know what I'm saying."

You were about to reply when the screech of the bunkroom door caught your attention. "Oh my God!" Fanboy shouted, closing the door again. "Am I interrupting something?" 

You snorted. "Have you never heard of knocking?" You yelled back.

"What are you doing on top of each other, man?" He sounded traumatised. You giggled.

"None of your business!"

"Whatever, man. I came in to tell you it's going to storm real hard soon. Prepare for a blackout."

"Okay, thanks!" You hear the shuffling of feet moving away from your door and groan.

Phoenix makes a move to stand up. As if she knows what you're thinking, she speaks up. "I'm not going."

"Oh, please, Nix! You know how much I hate it down there! Especially if it's storming out," you whine but to no avail.

"You're in the Navy, for Christ's sake. And it's a quick job. Go in, grab the clothes, and come back. I already put them in the dryer. You only have to fetch them."

You groan but get up as well, blindly searching for your phone and earbuds. If you were going in that dark, scary laundry room, you'd at least do it your way. And who's a better companion than Taylor Swift?

—

It was early in the evening when all lights shut off. The heater in your room stopped groaning, and you concluded that the expected blackout was happening now. Nix was sleeping in her bunk above you, and you sighed. You'd put off going to the laundry room in hopes of Natasha changing her mind, but there was no way you were getting out of it now.

You really didn't want to face Bradshaw, and there was a big chance you would in the hallways. Unfortunately for you, no one has invented time travel yet, so you're destined to bump into him at some point. You work together, for fuck's sake. It's impossible to ignore him forever.

So, you gather yourself, put a hoodie over your t-shirt with the nearest civilian shoes, and plug your earphones before pressing play on Taylor Swift and blindly find the door. The backup generator is up and running, for the hallway lights are on. 

A few people are conversing and leaning on their bedroom doors. Some greet you with a nod and a smile, and you shoot them one back, ducking your head so as not to be spotted by your friends—who are likely hanging out with Rooster.

You arrive at the laundry room and immediately get to work. There's no one else in here, and it's cold. You feel like a child, shivering in fear as if a ghost will pop up from a corner. The music is blasting, and you're grateful, for the eeriness of this place makes you jumpy. Fuck, it's so dark.

Unbeknownst to you, Bradley was also on laundry duty. He'd put it off as much as he could, even paying Hangman to do it once. He hated the silence in that freezing room and how far away it was from everyone.

So, here he was, trying to walk as quietly as possible; so no admiral ghosts pop up to scare him. Lucky for him, he only had to put them in the bin, press a few buttons and be out of there in seconds.

He's startled when he sees you. Well, he spots your back, but he knows it's you. The unmistakable Taylor Swift tune reaches his ears. Bradley leans against the doorframe, watching as you bop your head and slightly move your hips while you hum the lyrics. 

He chuckles. Your undying love for the singer was the cause for your callsign, although not many people knew that. You made up a story about how quick you're in the air—that's why people call you that. But he knows.

And he loves his knowledge over that little detail about you because it's so significant. Bradley loves memorising things about you—from how you struggle to french braid your hair to how you like Heineken beer more than Corona because you don't like the stupid connection it has to Fast and Furious.

I miss you. The words are on the tip of Rooster's lips, but he doesn't dare say them. He wanted to give you space and time to rethink your words because—surprise, surprise—he's been in love with you for God-knows-how long. And he wants you to love him back, truly, but he doesn't want to freak you out. So, he'll gladly settle with watching you dance to Taylor while trying to hide the fond smile taking over his features.

A loud crack of thunder startles the both of you. The place goes completely black. Bradley moves off the doorframe, but you drop the half-filled basket with a gasp. A soft fuck escapes your lips, and Bradley decides to close the distance between you and help.

His hands look for your waist, wanting to help you up. He hadn't thought about how isolated you were from the world. You don't have time to move away from the hands circling around you, and a yelp escapes your lips when you hit something solid. One earbud falls off in the process.

You fight to move away and swat the person—God, please let it be a person and not an actual fucking ghost—with a shirt. You cry for it to get away, but the arms find your waist again while the person hushes you.

Bradley. It's Bradley. He's holding you tightly, shushing you, and you gulp deep breaths, trying to calm down. Your heart beat fast from what has happened, and because holy shit, Bradley Bradshaw is holding you.

You have to move away—your skin is on fucking fire. So much for ignoring him.

You push him, turning on your phone's torch. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I almost had a heart attack." You hit him with the shirt you're still holding.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I was here to do my laundry, but the lights went out." He leaves out the part where he watched you dance. "I heard your basket fall, and I wanted to help."

And suddenly, oxygen is no longer making its way to your lungs, and your whole body is tense. Bradley is right here, in front of you, staring at you with his hands on his hips. And he also knows how you really feel about him. He has to go now.

"You, uh, you can go do your thing," you stutter, pushing your hair out of your face, your eyes never finding his. "I'll finish this on my own."

"No." It's nothing but a statement. "I'm not leaving you all alone down here."

Your heart warms, and the corner of your mouth lifts oh-so-slightly.

"Aren't you doing your laundry?"

"Fuck that. I'll do it tomorrow."

"Alright." You get back to picking your clothes out of the bin.

The silence between you lies somewhere between tense and comfortable. You feel at ease with Rooster here, knowing that no harm will come to you before him, but you can't help but feel awkward since he knows about your feelings now. The lights turn back on, and you have to make your blush disappear before he notices.

You ignore how your stomach turns—butterflies and anxiety—and close the washing machine bin's door when you finish. Well, you at least try to. The door won't latch, making you look like an idiot pushing the washing machine for no reason.

"Here, let me help." Oh my fucking God.

Rooster is hovering above you now, his hand replacing yours. He pushes the machine's door hard, and you hear the satisfying click. 

You can feel his breath down your shoulder, but you try not to tense. Your head spins to him involuntarily, and your eyes meet his. Your eyes fall from his eyes to his lips, and he does the same. Oh my God. Does he want to kiss you?

Your question is answered three long seconds later by him crushing his soft lips onto yours. It's like how all those novels and poets describe it. Instant fireworks. Your body tingles, and your heart pounds so hard that you think it'll rip off your chest. His hand encircles your waist, and you tighten your hold around a random shirt.

He's doing this out of pity. And just like that, the dream you've had for God knows how long is shattered by your own thoughts. You have to pull away.

"W-We can't do this, Rooster."

Your eyes meet his as you touch your lips. They're tingling, scratch that, your whole body feels like it's been electrocuted. He looks hurt and confused as he pants a few feet away from you.

"Why?" It sounds so sad.

"B-Because you don't like me, Rooster. I know you hate me, but I don't want something I've dreamed of for so long to get destroyed because of your silly antics." You sound even sadder.

"Is that what you think?"

"It's not a thought, Bradshaw. I know it. I've seen it with my own eyes." Tears have gathered in your eyes. Fuck, those mood swings.

Bradley exhales deeply. "I don't hate you, Swift. Never in my life have I felt what I feel when I'm around you. I feel all hot and tingly when you walk past me. My cheeks burn like a kid when your comments involve my love life, because deep down, I want you to be the protagonist of my fantasies, not some random girl I met at the Hard Deck.

Your jokes and your talent, your wit and your beauty—I love them. Your charm and ability to persuade everyone into doing chores for you are my favourite. I love listening to you talk, sarcastically or not, because you always have something to say.

Do you know how many times I've eavesdropped on you and Phoenix so I could learn more about you? I know about your hatred for Fast and Furious movies, your obvious Taylor Swift adoration, and the one time you got hammered and thought you were talking to her. 

I love knowing all those details about you, and it's not because I can use them against you. They're what make you...well, you! You're nothing like the girls I've met in my life. You're extraordinary, and I..."

He hesitates.

"Is this...Did Natasha put you up to this? I swear I don't want your pity and fake love confessions, Bradley. You don't have to pretend to be in love with me—"

"But I am! I am madly in love with you. The kind of love that is so dangerous and—and so crushing. I want to be with you every second of the day, annoy you, and make you smile. It's all I've ever wanted for years now."

Your eyes are wide and glossy, eyebrows raised in shock and confusion, and so many emotions. 

"I love you, Swift," he confirms.

"Prove it." Your words are merely a whisper.

Despite the hard rain and thundering outside, your voice is the only melody in Bradley's ears. And he doesn't hesitate. He crushes his lips against yours again, this time with hunger, passion, frustration and love. You kiss back with just as much force, but before you know it, you're pulling back, gasping for breath.

Bradley's hands are cupping your cheeks, and his forehead is touching yours. Your breaths mingle as you stare up at him. Your fingers grip his shirt tightly. 

"Is that enough proof for you?" He whispers.

You lightly shrug. "I still haven't forgiven you for almost calling me a slut." That's a lie—you have. You forgave him as soon as your head hit the pillow yesterday. He didn't mean it.

He sighs a long, sad sigh. "Please, let me make it up to you. I was a—a jerk. A complete and utter idiot. I don't deserve your love, but please, I need it. Give me a chance to prove how much I love you." Your heart clenches, and a smile tugs at your lips. 

"You can make it up to me as long as you want, Bradley Bradshaw."

He smiles back, and you think; this is it. This is heaven on earth. Bradley Bradshaw—the man you've longed for so long—smiling at you with nothing but adoration. You're heart feels light and free.

You don't want the moment to end.

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