#I'll check back in a few days to see if this is permanent and if it is I'm leaving the platform. Talk about hostile web design...

[aveline-shepard]

This is visual clutter hell

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You want a field trip to North Island for your class, and Bradley is determined to deliver. He loves how you decide to show him some gratitude. He'd love it even more if you stayed and never left.

Warnings: Fluff, language, unprotected sex, oral sex, smut, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley's alarm really pissed him off on Thursday morning. First of all, it went off an hour earlier than it usually did. And second, he had been sound asleep with your body tucked right up against him and his fingers laced with yours. When you began to stir as well, he kissed your ear and started to pull away from you. 

"I'm sorry, Baby," he murmured, voice laced with sleep and something intimate that he never remembered treating anyone else to. "Go back to sleep."

You rolled over so you were facing him, and your lips found his immediately. You kissed him softly as your fingers pulled through his hair, and he wanted more than anything to stay here with you all day. "I can't go back to sleep," you whispered. "Not when I get to spend a few extra minutes with you."

In the very short time you and he had been officially in a relationship, he had let himself indulge in the idea that you'd be around forever. That you wouldn't change your mind about him. That you'd love him and let him love you back, like equal partners. And right now all he wanted to do was keep holding you while he also couldn't wait to get to work and try to start sweet talking his superior officers.

"I can't be late today, Gorgeous. Not if I'm going to try my best to make a field trip for your class happen."

Your eyes lit up and you squeaked softly. "You're right. Get the fuck out of here."

He laughed and then groaned. "It shouldn't be sexy when you have a potty mouth." He gave you one long kiss before finally pulling away so he could get ready for work.

"I'll make you breakfast," you whispered, climbing out of bed completely naked before reaching for his discarded sweatshirt on the floor. It was yours now in his mind, and he couldn't wait until it and you were both permanent fixtures in his bedroom. That was going to have to wait a bit though unless you brought it up first. He'd already dropped the idea that he wanted to marry you in front of your class.

"You don't need to make me anything," he said as he started to pull on his clean flight suit, but you were already walking out of the room. 

Bradley finished getting ready as quickly as he could in your tiny bathroom, and when he made his way to your equally miniscule kitchen with his overnight bag, you were spreading cream cheese on a bagel and filling a purple travel mug that said #1 Teacher with coffee. "I'll see you tomorrow night?" he asked before taking a bite out of the bagel when you held it up for him.

"I mean... yes, I'll come right to your house from work tomorrow, but you'll see me before that." When he raised an eyebrow while he chewed, you shrugged and added, "I was planning on sending you a dirty picture while I get dressed."

Now both of his eyebrows were raised. "Yeah? How dirty we talking?"

All you said in response was, "I trust you to keep my job intact," before you kissed him and ushered him toward your door with his breakfast. "Go to work, and you'll find out soon. I love you."

"I love you, too, Gorgeous."

He would never get enough of your pretty face. He thought about it while he fought traffic going into San Diego and while crossing the bay bridge toward North Island. This drive sucked, but he'd do it every morning if it meant he got to spend the night in your bed with you. He also wanted to ask you to sleep over at his place during the week so you could test out traffic heading north.

When he finally parked on base, he didn't have to imagine your face any longer. He got to look at it in the picture you sent him twenty minutes ago. Along with your tits. Exchanging photos had always been a huge part of getting to know you while he was deployed, and he was delighted to find that the tradition continued.

"Oh my god," he groaned, needing to sit in his Bronco for a few extra minutes while he enjoyed the photo before ultimately saving it to his phone. Then he texted you back with a smirk before heading to the locker room.

Damn, Gorgeous. What I wouldn't give to spend a week in bed with that face and those tits.

Of course a honeymoon would be the perfect opportunity for that sort of thing. He dropped his bag off in his locker and made his way out to the hangar, running his hand over his face as he tried to push that thought to the back of his mind. As soon as he spotted Maverick, he made a beeline in his direction.

"Rooster," he greeted, barely glancing up from the clipboard he was holding. Bradley knew it was such a longshot, but he had to just go for it at this point.

"Hey, Mav, you have a minute?"He glanced up over his aviators and said, "Always. What can I do for you?" Bradley cleared his throat and tried to make sure he sounded as relaxed as possible. "

I was wondering if a fourth grade class could visit base for a field trip one day? Do a tour of the hangars and the tarmac? Maybe sit in a cockpit? Just an educational trip for some kids who are studying aviation."

There was a brief pause before Maverick asked, "Are you sleeping with a teacher?"

Bradley groaned, head tipped back as he rubbed his eyes and tried not to laugh. "Yeah. She's my girlfriend though, so it's a bit more involved than that."

Maverick sighed. "If I give you special permission for this, then everyone is going to want me to do the same for them. You know that." Bradley started nodding in defeat when Maverick took his sunglasses off and asked, "How many kids are we talking?"

"Eighteen," he replied immediately, straightening his back like he was standing at attention.

"Which school?"

"Mira Mesa Elementary."

Maverick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let me see what I can do. Now get your helmet on and get to work."

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

You were finishing your lunch at your desk, about to send Bradley a text, when your phone rang in your hand. He was calling you in the middle of the day which was definitely odd.

"Bradley."

"Hey, Gorgeous," came his voice along with a ton of background noise. "Any chance you can bring your class for a field trip next week?"

Surely you misheard.

"Next week? You already got it approved?"

"Yeah." The deep, raspy rumble of his voice made you shiver. "Next Thursday work for you?"

You were on your feet, doing a little dance as you said, "You got it approved! I'll make it work. I'll type up permission slips right now. I'll call everyone's legal guardian tonight if I have to. We'll be there!"

"Perfect. Email me your complete class list so I can get visitor badges printed."

"Okay," you told him, glancing around like you didn't know where to start. "Right."

"I love you, Baby. Talk later."

He ended the call without another word, and you tucked your phone away before running a lap around your classroom. You wanted to go gloat to all of the other fourth grade teachers, but you wouldn't. You were absolutely certain that this only worked out because you were in a relationship with Bradley, so instead you got to work on the permission slips.

By Friday afternoon, your kids were beyond excited about their upcoming trip to North Island. You had secured eighteen permission slips, three chaperones and a school bus to take everyone down to Coronado next week. But today, you'd be driving there yourself to see Bradley. The traffic after work didn't even bother you as you drove to his house with both your overnight bag and your work bag. You had some quizzes to grade, but he promised you he didn't mind if you brought them along.

When you parked in front of his house, you grabbed your things and ran up to the front door which swung open before you could even knock.

"I just got home," he said with a laugh in his sexy khaki uniform and boots. "I was thinking about giving you a key in case you beat me here one of these days. Oh, shit."

You set your bags down just inside his front door and then had your hands tugging down his pants zipper before you leaned up to kiss him. As you pulled his cock free, you whispered, "I just wanted to thank you again."

You bunched Bradley's shirt up around his abs and dropped to your knees while the front door was still open, and he grunted before quickly closing it. "You don't have to thank me," he rasped as you kissed his cock, and he started to grow hard.

As you ran your nose along his length, you glanced up at him and asked, "You don't want me to give you a blowjob?"

His pupils were wide as he shook his head. "Could you imagine a world in which I didn't want you to give me a blowjob? Because I definitely couldn't."

You laughed and parted your lips. "Then let me say thank you, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

His big hand settled on the back of your head, giving you an eager push, and you took him deep as he groaned, "It's my pleasure, Baby. In so many ways."

He was velvety soft and warm, fully hard now, and you gagged as he bottomed out. You let your tongue glide slowly along his length until you pulled him free, saliva already dripping down to his balls. Then you took a deep breath and let him push you again, bobbing your head as your eyes watered. His balls were heavy in your hand, and your mouth watered more as you thought about tasting him.

When you looked up at his handsome face with your mouth full of his cock, he stroked your cheek with his free hand. "So gorgeous. So perfect." He was flushed pink, and you vaguely thought for a second about how funny it would be if Vanessa showed up right now to see this happening.

You let your hands settle on his hips, and you bobbed your head until he was tapping the back of your throat again. Bradley's sharp gasp just made you go harder, and his fingers digging gently into your hair made you go faster. "Fuck," he whispered, eyes glued on your lips as you let him pop free. You licked a swirl around his tip before going deep and sucking until your cheeks were hollow, and you could feel him throbbing with need.

"I'm really close," he crooned as you squeezed his hip. You listened to him panting as you stroked his balls with your thumb, and then you sputtered when he came. You swallowed him down as you wrapped your fingers around his base and jerked him off until he had his hand braced on the wall for support. Every drop of his cum was swallowed down, and you kissed his cock when he was finished.

"Come here," he whispered, reaching for you before doing anything else, and as you stood, he scooped you into his arms. His lips collided with yours, and you sighed as he tasted himself in your mouth. "That was hot."

Bradley's nose bumped yours as he kissed you harder and started to walk you further into his house. "We could always do it again later," you whispered with a laugh as you ran your fingers along the sheen of sweat along his hairline.

"I have other plans for you for later," he promised, voice deep and dark.

"Tell me," you whispered, but he shook his head.

"You'll find out after I cook dinner."

"Can I have a hint?"

He glanced to the side and nodded as you walked through the living room with him. "Another couch date. Kind of."

"I love couch dates."

"I love you."

Bradley made you a grilled cheese sandwich, and he made two for himself, and you stood in his kitchen with him while you ate and sipped a beer. He didn't even bother to finish zipping up his khakis after tucking himself away, and he kept you in his grasp as he told you all about what he wanted to share with your class during the field trip.

"I can take them on a tour of the hangar," he murmured, kissing your cheek. "Let them listen in on air traffic control. Do you think they'd want to sit in my cockpit?"

"Bradley," you said with a laugh. "Of course they would want to! I want to!"

"Yeah?" he asked, running his mustache along your neck. "Maybe you can sit on my lap in my cockpit? I could show you my throttle."

Your face felt warm as you whispered, "You'll get me a lifetime ban from North Island."

"Can't have that," he said solemnly, shaking his head. "When you're on summer break, I'm going to want you to come visit me at work all the time."

Butterflies erupted in your belly as you pictured yourself in six months. Visiting him at work would be incredible. You could stop by with a coffee like he had done for you, and maybe you could take one for Natasha as well. But you were also thinking about how he casually announced to your class that he intended to marry you in the not so distant future.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and felt the front of his unzipped pants through the fabric of your shirt. "I'm not driving back and forth to Coronado every day during my break, Bradley."

He smiled at you and said, "Understood. You can just spend the night as much as you want. I'm right by the beach, so you can sunbathe all day until I'm done working, and then I'll take you out to Salvatore's or cook dinner for you."

"Or we can just hang out on the couch," you whispered, your lips brushing his.

"Speaking of the couch..."

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

"Harder."

Your voice filled the living room along with your little grunts and moans as Bradley held your hips in place. You were bent over the arm of the couch with your ass up in the air, fingers digging into the cushions while he fucked you. For as sweet as you were, he loved you like this just as much. Loud and needy for him.

The sound of his body slapping against yours was already obscene, but if you wanted it harder, he'd let you have it. He was yours in every sense of the word, and he would make sure you knew it. "Does that feel good?" he crooned, watching your pussy grip his cock. "It looks fantastic," he grunted.

Your response was unintelligible but enthusiastic, so he kept going until he was close and your legs were shaking. The blowjob you gave him earlier seemed to take the edge off, because as soon as he started rubbing soft circles on your clit, you came for him, but he wasn't quite there yet. He slowed his pace down, let himself enjoy the feel of you shaking and squeezing him. He could have probably gone longer, but then you turned and looked up at him over your shoulder.

"That was so good," you said with a shaky voice, "I saw stars."

"Oh hell." He came inside you as you chewed on your lip and looked at him like you'd never get enough. "Come here." You stood with your back pressed against him while he was still buried deep. "You want to snuggle?"

"Always," you whispered as he peppered kisses to your shoulder. And then the two of you ended up on the couch, and it was sweet again as you curled up mostly on top of him while he drew shapes on your palm.

And that's how the whole weekend was. On Saturday, the two of you spent a few windswept hours on the beach, wrapped in a blanket together, talking and laughing. But after the sun set and the sky turned that pretty pretty color that looked both blue and orange at the same time, your lips found his.

"Gorgeous," he groaned, hands on your thighs, feeling your warmth through your jeans.

"I love you," came your immediate response, and Bradley could barely contain himself. He wanted everything with you, but he was afraid of moving any faster than this already pretty blistering pace. But even thinking about the nights this week when he'd have to fall asleep without you and wake up alone were creeping into the back of his mind.

He pressed his forehead to yours and whispered, "I love you too, Gorgeous. And I'm just going to say this one time, and then I'll let you bring it up again if you feel like it."When he paused, you said, "Okay," in a soft voice, and he took a deep breath.

"If we ever reach a point where you think you want to move in with me, that would make me very happy. You already have a key now, but if you want it to be even more permanent, I would love that."

"Oh," you gasped, and he suddenly wished he hadn't said anything about it. "My lease ends in January."

"January," he repeated, like it was a word he was unfamiliar with.

"Mmhmm. In about two months." You kissed his cheek and wrapped his hand up in yours. "That seems reasonable, don't you think?"

Bradley let you push his shoulder playfully until he was laying on his back, and then you were in his arms just like you were on the first date. "Yeah, that seems reasonable," he whispered as the sound of your soft laughter mingled with the crashing waves.

"At least give me a chance to test out the commute to work," you said with a kiss.

"I'm not in a hurry, Gorgeous. I'm just in love."

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

You didn't get home from Bradley's house on Sunday night until almost eleven, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain about it. He helped you grade your quizzes, and he read over your lesson plans like it was a bestselling novel. Then he made you a snack after dinner and went over the plans for the field trip.

"I'll take care of everything this week," he had promised. "I'll get visitor's badges for everyone, and you'll just need to go through the security checkpoints when you arrive. Your kids will have a blast. Just wait until they get to watch Marty work on an engine rebuild."

"The kids are going to lose their minds when they see your Super Hornet," you had promised. "And I will, too. I was already falling for you when you sent me the cockpit photos, and now I'm head over heels."

After that, Bradley carefully folded up your lesson plans and put them in your bag while you tried to hide your smile. And that's why you got home so late. Because the two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other for more than a minute.

But it made for a long Monday. And your Tuesday wasn't much better. By Wednesday, even the phone calls and texts with Bradley were barely enough to keep you going. You hated thinking about his next deployment, but it was always at the back of your mind. He wanted you to move in with him, but even his beautiful house in Coronado wouldn't save you from feeling devastatingly lonely the next time he was on an aircraft carrier. Nothing would.

He told you he wanted to drive up and spend the night with you on Wednesday, but he was yawning nonstop over the phone, and you knew he would have to get up earlier if he came up to your apartment. "You sound as exhausted as I feel, and I'm going to see you in the morning anyway," you told him as you curled up in your bed." Actually all nineteen of us are going to see you in the morning."

"I love my pen pals," he said with a laugh. Then he repeated your words from so many weeks ago. "Do you still want me to kiss you as soon as I see you?"

"Bradley," you moaned, rolling onto your side. You were melting, and he wasn't even here. "I always want that."

"Good, because I don't think I could... Oh shit!" he shouted, and it sounded like he dropped his phone.

"What's wrong?" you asked, jolting up in your bed. "Bradley?"

"No, no, no," came his voice, but you could tell he wasn't right next to his phone speaker. He actually sounded scared, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be going on, and then he said, "There's a fucking spider on my bedroom wall!"

"Oh," you replied, letting out the breath you'd been holding.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?! Why aren't you here?!"

"Bradley, just squish it with some paper towels," you told him, trying not to laugh at his panicked voice.

"You want me to take my eyes off this fucking thing to go to the kitchen? I don't think so!"

You pressed your lips together and composed yourself before asking, "How big is it?"

"It's huge! The size of a quarter!" he shouted. "It's moving!"

"Bradley, pick up one of your boots or a shoe and smash it," you told him as calmly as you could. "You can do this."

"Okay. Okay, right. Yeah," he said, and his voice sounded even more distant. "I can do this." There was a terribly loud thump, and then he said, "I hate this so much."

"Is it dead?" you asked cautiously.

"Yeah, but I'm too scared to sleep in here now. What if its family shows up for revenge in the middle of the night?"

You snorted and collapsed back onto your pillow. "That seems a little dramatic."

"Does it?" he asked. "Because this is something you should be taking care of for me. I'll take care of anything else, but this one thing is on you, Baby."

You started to pull your shirt off as you asked, "Would you feel better if I sent you another dirty photo?"

"I would feel a lot better if you sent me a dirty photo," he said, and now you could tell he was smiling.

"Hmm... you think you'll be able to get some sleep if I do?" you asked, tossing your shirt aside.

"A full eight hours."

You held your phone up, smiled sweetly, and snapped a picture. "Let me know when you get it," you said as you texted it to him.

A few seconds later, you giggled as he groaned. "Got it. You look like perfection, and I love adding these to my top secret folder," he muttered. "Thank you."

Now you were yawning as you pulled your sheet up to your chin. "You're welcome. I'll see you in ten hours. I love you."

"Love you, Baby."

-------------------------- You thought you were prepared for the field trip to North Island. You had bus snacks, and responsible chaperones. You had copies of all of the required paperwork that the Navy insisted you fill out ahead of time in a folder. You even had a list of all of your kids for the guard station officer which Bradley reminded you to bring. But nothing could have actually prepared you for the excitement that all nineteen of you clearly felt when the school bus pulled up to the gates with the airstrip directly in front of you.

"Whoa!" said Jayden, trying to hang out the window for a better view. "There's a jet taking off!"

All of your kids scrambled to the right side of the bus to get a better look, and you did too. The aftermath of the takeoff was loud, and you signaled for everyone to cover their ears as they all watched the aircraft soar into the sun.

"Do you think that was Lieutenant Bradshaw?" Nia asked excitedly as your heart raced.

"No," you replied as you watched the jet fly off into the distance. "He said he would meet us after we parked in the visitors lot." When the bus started moving up to the guards, you waved your hand for everyone to sit down again. "But if you're all really well behaved, I'm sure there will be some surprises for us today!"

When it was your turn to talk to the guards, you climbed out of the bus and handed over all of your paperwork. They double and triple checked everything. As they looked at your school ID and driver's license, one of them said, "This location requires top clearances. We hardly ever see field trip groups. Someone on base must really like you."

You thought about Bradley and his kisses and his couch and how he wanted you there to share his bed and always take care of the spiders. "Yeah, that's pretty accurate," you told him with a smile, and he handed you a bundle of lanyards. Hanging from each one was a visitor's pass for each of your students as well as four for you and the chaperones. "Thank you."

Even as you handed each kid their pass and told them they needed to wear them at all times, your heart raced in anticipation. They were all looking back at you with wide-eyed excitement; these were the faces of kids who had learned a lot in your classroom already this year. They were as eager to learn more about aviation today as they were months ago, and you were so happy that Bradley had been a big part of this whole experience.

As the bus driver parked, you saw your boyfriend through the window, standing tall next to the building. He was in his flight suit, and his back was ramrod straight. There were two other officers with him, and they had even more pins on their uniforms than you remembered seeing on his. You needed to reel in your expectations, especially in front of the men who you assumed were Bradley's bosses. But when you smiled, Bradley smiled back. And when you led your students down the steps and over to the sidewalk, his posture relaxed.

"Welcome to North Island," he told your kids with a grin. Then he looped one arm around your waist, pulled you close, and kissed you in front of everyone. "I can't wait to show you everything."

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

The field trip of my dreams! Okay, so we are definitely going to see Marty at work, but what else should the kids get to experience? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 16

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[droopywrites]

did you ever did a part 2 to jjk dudes meeting their child who’s from the future?

⋆｡Part || of JJK MEN meeting their future kids｡⋆

Author's notes: I don't think I've posted it! Considering it kind of left my mind and the old draft is gone, but I did write everything I remember here. Also, it's like 3am and I wrote this crying, not proofread.

CW: Swearing, killing, cannibalism(?) like mention of eating people, children.

Pronouns used for the kids: She/her for Geto and It/its for Sukuna.

Part | (Warning, it's from 2021)

Geto

Starting off strong with Geto.

Definitely another girl. He's such a girl dad.

On a regularly scheduled day like always; it was wake up, talk with his connections, mingle with his family, check on Mimi and Nana, see whatever the hell the non-sorcerers wanted, get greeted by a little girl that wasn't supposed to be on the estate...

What the fuck.

How did she even get here? Why is she here?

Geto would stare at this child in confusion and look around, waiting for someone to claim her.

He has a soft spot for children. Sorcerers, of course. Non-sorcerers, debatable.

So, low and behold this little girl running up to him to clutch at his robes. Him trying to pry her off of him with her relieved cries of "Papa! Papa!" escaping her lips.

Papa?

Holds her by the shirt's scruff like a cat and squints, ready to scold her but pauses when he sees her face.

Because, holy shit, that's literally his twin. And suddenly every rare hookup played in his mind.

But no, she looked no older than 3. He hadn't been with anyone at that time, or ever yet. Not that far.

Drops everything for the next couple of days just to make sense of the situation, only telling his beloved family.

Mimi and Nana fawn over the idea of a little sister but are a bit restrictive if it's not a permanent thing.

The girl didn't speak much except for addressing Geto, the twins, oh and you.

You...?

You.

You.

You, who had just returned from your trip overseas to oversee some tasks involving curses.

You, who the little girl immediately ran to and called "Mama! Mama!"

You, who Geto stared wide-eyed at and surprised as you two tried to settle the fact nothing even happened between you.

Yet.

When that little girl eventually left to her own time, with everything still fresh and confusing, Geto eventually approached you.

Because, well, he wanted to see that little girl again.

After few dates, then a relationship, then marriage. Maybe.

Sukuna

Listen, he is NOT spreading those cursed genes of his pre-human/post-cursed-spirit.

Man hates love.

But, during the Heian period. When some stupid kid wandered into his life as if it always belonged there, maybe, maybe, there was something else in that space in his chest but hunger and his definition of love.

So, there it was. Whatever it was. Standing there with large eyes focused on him with a semblance of admiration and malice.

"What are you looking at, brat?"

"You."

The audacity of this thing. He killed it immediately.

And then it came back. So, he killed it again. And again. And... what the fuck.

This little shit was persistent.

His kid. He doesn't know how. But definitely his kid.

A worthy successor? Fuck no, he's not dying or leaving it as some birthright to a hindrance.

Learning of its origins was pretty interesting, to say the least.

"Not a human? I figured. A curse made from me, huh? Someone weak must hate me so much."

That meant a human parent. Or multiple human parents. Gross.

He wasn't getting into that.

The kid was though.

It often visited this village to... eat? Kill? Fight? Whatever makes it happy.

...

The hell do you mean it was visiting its human mother?

It had a mother? It had a mother that cursed him so much it resulted in a personalized cursed child?

He could see it stare longingly at that woman's village and before he could even kill her, his offspring said goodbye.

"I'll see you in the future, yeah?"

And then Sukuna was sealed.

He probably searched for his offspring in the Modern era.

Author's notes 2: Stopping with these two because it's been a while since I've posted seriously on this account, 2 years? Maybe I've gotten better, maybe not. This was the idea but with updated better minds. Maybe I'll do the others separately again, Yuji, Yuta, Megumi, Toge. Just did the adults first. Doing Choso and Higuruma definitely.

[wonustars]

𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ? (Teaser)

𖦹 pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader 𖦹 wordcount: 15k+ (this teaser: 643 words)

𖦹 genre: enemies to roommates to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+) (none in this teaser though)

𖦹 summary: your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate. 𖦹 in other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy.

𖦹 tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, e2l!jeonghanxreader, campusplayboy!jeonghan, roommate!jeonghan, afab!reader, bestfriend!booseoksoon, joshua is jeonghan's accomplice in everything, reader is the only one who knows how to cook, jeonghan is king of the sassy man apocolypse. (more will be added in the full fic) 𖦹 smut tags/warnings will be added in the full post.

𖦹 taglist form. you can also comment or send an ask but the form is preffered! :) thank u

𖦹 note: this jeonghan fic idea has been cooking in my head for a longgggg while now. idk when it'll be out but cosidering i'll have more down time, i'd say by the end of this month? but it really depends so sorry in advance if i take longer than that lol. i've also decided to make a google form for anyone who wants to be added to the tag list (you must be 18+ though, and i will check if your age is in your bio), as well as a permanent one if you'd like! anyways see you all soon! mwah - anna.

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You hate Yoon Jeonghan. The moment you met him, you hated him.

It had taken you about ten seconds to get on his bad side. All it took was a cup of iced coffee and a random bump in the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, your freshly made latte had become a wet coffee-coloured stain on Jeonghan’s bright white shirt. Mortified, you apologized profusely, not knowing what else to do.

Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even realize you were tripping and then spilling your drink onto him. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” He spits at you, his eyes cold as ice. 

Your cheeks heat up fast, and you’re stuttering your words all over the place. To say the least, you felt bad, you haven’t even been here for more than 24 hours and you were already fucking up badly. Just a few hours ago you were ready to start fresh, starting a new semester at the University you transferred to from your hometown. 

Looking back up at the man who was currently staring you down, you begin to take napkins out of your bag to wipe his shirt. A yelp escapes your lips once you feel him slap your hand away from his chest. 

“I said what the fuck is your problem?” He repeats himself, the fire in his eyes flaming against the light of the afternoon sun. 

“I’m sorry, I tripped and-” You begin to explain yourself but he cuts you off, not wanting to hear your sorry excuse of an explanation. 

“I don’t care that you tripped, you spilt your drink on me.” He seethes, clenching his jaw as he talks. 

Now you’re equally as pissed as him, you stare at him for a second trying to see if he’s joking because he couldn’t be serious right now. Quickly, you realize that he is indeed not joking, if anything he’s more serious than you were when you told your parents you were moving away. 

“I’m sorry I spilt my drink but it was an honest mistake. It’s a stain, you can wash your shirt.” You scoff at him, unbelievable, you thought. As you roll your eyes, you watch him get red in the face with anger. 

Jeonghan is a lot more frustrated now that you’re giving him attitude, after the fact that you were the one to stain his clothes.  His fists begin to ball at his sides, who does this girl think she is, he asks himself.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You can’t just talk to me that way.” It was his turn to scoff at you, this petty fight between the two of you not going anywhere. 

You look him up and down, you could take him in a fight if it came down to it, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. His body is a lot on the slimmer side, his looks seem to be his only redeeming quality. Long-haired, with long eyelashes, he was a pretty boy, you’ll admit that much. Yet his personality is not in harmony with his looks, and you found it to be quite surprising. How can someone so good-looking be so spiteful? 

“Too bad, I’ve already apologized and tried to make up for my actions. Didn’t Mommy tell you life isn’t always fair?” You mockingly pout up at him as he towers over you. Before Jeonghan could come up with a rebuttal, you walk past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder with his.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with you! You’ll regret this day!” He shouts at your figure as you walk away from the scene. As you walk away you pray to the gods that this is the last you’ll see of the long-haired pretty boy. 

Little did you know, your prayers had done the opposite of what you asked.

© wonustars

𝄒𓏲࣪ . ⩇⩇ 𝄒 𖥻 a/n: my bad all, ik it's another uni au please dont hate me T-T. i promise i'll do something different next time BUTTTT i'm literally only about 1.5k words in but i'm already excited to share it with you all! please look forward to it :)))

[luveline]

u are the most amazing writer. im in hospital rn and have been for a few days but thinking about aaron hotchner finding out reader was in hospital and freaking out?? 🐇🧃💖💃

get well soon my love, and tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"Hello, handsome," you say, phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, naked thighs stretched out in front of you, "funny thing." 

"I doubt it will be funny," he says. Aaron knows you too well, that's for sure. 

"Well, it's not actually very funny. I'm at Stafford." 

"Right." 

"Stafford–" 

"Hospital. You're in Stafford Hospital?"

You brush a hand down your hospital gown and sigh. "You could say that." 

"Are you hurt?" 

"You could also say that. Will you come?" you ask quietly. 

"I'm on my way. Ten minutes." 

It's an impossible promise and one he can't deliver on, but twenty minutes later he's opening the door to your room with his go-bag on his shoulder. "Shit, are you going somewhere?" you ask.

He frowns at you deeply. "What happened?"  

"I hit my head at work. Threw up, passed out. I had a CT scan, I'm waiting for them to come back and tell me what's happening." 

His jaw twitches as you explain. Looking rather formidable, Aaron puts his bag down on the plastic wrapped chair beside your hospital bed and leans down to hold you. "Oh, careful of your head," he says as you reach for him. His voice is strange. "Careful." 

Things are quiet for a while. Just his arms around you and the beep of your heart monitor. 

"How do you feel?" he asks, and the dam breaks. "How did it happen, honey? Where did you hit your head?" He puts his hand on your shoulder and nudges you back gently. "Can you show me?" 

You arch your neck down and tuck your hand behind your head. "Right here. I don't know what I was doing, I just slipped."

He encourages you forward with one hand. You're unsure what he's looking at or how bad it might look, but he must feel sorry for you either way, the hand on your shoulder rubbing sympathetic quarter circles. 

"I wish you would've called me as soon as it happened." 

"I was a little busy." 

He's quiet, brooding. You look up into his face to try and gauge how he's feeling beyond that, but he's impassive; his expression reveals nothing.

"Are you mad?" you ask worriedly. 

"Mad?" He shakes his head. Careful, he slides a hand under your leg and moves it aside to sit on your hospital bed, his thumb in the tender underside of your knee. "I'm just– I've seen so many–" Your heart monitor reflects your surprise as Aaron stutters. "I couldn't imagine what happened to you. I was afraid to ask. Honey, it's eight at night. Thinking about you here, alone and in pain–" He clings to your knee. 

You understand his reaction, then. You've had hours to make sense of your sudden injury. Aaron's only just found out, and he's lived through enough bad phone calls to panic himself thinking about another. 

"They couldn't find my phone. I would've called you if I remembered your number," you say, putting your hand on his.

He seems to realise he's been panicking. He takes a deliberate, calming breath, a professional through and through. "I," he begins, his hand trailing down your leg to rub right back up, "am going to write it on you. In permanent ink." 

"I'll get it tattooed if you promise not to change it." 

"Deal," Aaron says. "Are you sure you're not in any pain?" 

He's much calmer from that point, checking your medications, helping you change into the pyjamas he's brought in his go-bag, and tracking down a nurse to see what your arrangements will be that night. Then he pulls his FBI card to talk to a doctor, and things go much quicker after that. 

[barcaatthemoon]

special || lucy bronze x reader ||

lucy takes you out on a special date.

admittedly, lucy felt like a shit girlfriend. not only had you uprooted yourself for her twice, but you never complained once about the changes. the two of you had met in lyon, and while when you followed her to manchester, you hadn't been dating, she knew that it was for her. you had never been shy about your complete willingness to do things for lucy or just to be close to her.

at first, lucy had been guilty about your relationship. keira had figured things out before the move to barcelona. there technically hadn't been anything going on, but lucy had caught feelings for you. she had adamantly denied them and clung to keira, only to be shoved away and eventually broken up with.

it was through your comfort of your teammate and best friend that the two of you had finally gotten together. two seasons at barcelona together were great, and while lucy hadn't resigned yet, she had been adamant that you do so. she wanted to watch you play for the blaugrana forever. being a wag didn't sound too bad to lucy, especially with the amount of days off that her knee pain had kept her bedridden.

"where are you running off to so early?" you asked lucy as she tried to sneak out of bed. it was a day off, so you weren't getting up for another couple hours at the very least. usually lucy stayed with you, but it seemed like today she had somewhere to be. "did jona call you in to talk about your contract?"

"no love, i've just got something to check on real quick. i promise that i'll be back soon, and with breakfast," lucy promised you. you sighed and rolled over to go back to sleep. it was barely light outside, and all you wanted was to cuddle up with lucy, but you'd settle for breakfast.

it was about three hours later when lucy got back. she seemed somewhat disappointed to see you out of bed, but still brought you the breakfast takeout to the couch. she made herself comfortable behind you with an arm wrapped around your waist. close by, you could tell that something was bothering lucy, but you'd have to wait for her to open up to you about it.

"i was thinking that we could watch a movie this afternoon and then go out. i know that we usually do things the other way, but i was hoping you wouldn't mind," lucy said.

"whatever you want." you turned your head and pressed a soft kiss to lucy's lips. she hummed happily as she pulled you back to fully lay against her. the two of you stayed on the couch all afternoon until lucy's phone started to vibrate with text after text. lucy seemed to take that as some sort of cue to go outside and grab something from keira. "what is that?"

"a dress for our date," lucy told you. she shoved the back into your arms and ushered you to shower and get changed. you got ready in the master bedroom, trying not to rush yourself, but unsure of how much time you had. all in all, you were happy with how you looked, even if you were a bit unsure about all of the skin left on display by your dress.

"luce, where are we going?" you asked as you stepped into the living room. your jaw was nearly on the floor when she turned around. it was the first time in a few weeks that you had seen lucy in something other than joggers or her training kit. the slacks fit her nicely, clinging to her thighs in a way that sent shivers down your spine. her shirt was tucked in with the sleeves rolled up enough to see the muscles in her forearms as she moved about.

"somewhere special, but before we go, i have to tell you something," lucy said. she seemed a bit somber, and you knew in that moment it was about her resigning. "tomorrow morning, they'll announce my free agency. i'm not signing with barcelona, but i'm not going anywhere else either. it's not permanent, but i think it's time to take a little break from football."

"what are you going to do?" tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. you didn't want lucy to go all the way back to england, not when you were stuck at barcelona for another three years. your contract had been a good one, and lucy knew that you weren't going anywhere. you were happy at barcelona, and if she left, you knew that it wouldn't be the same. you didn't want to play anywhere without lucy there as well.

"i'll stay here. maybe travel a little, but i want to watch you play. i've got us a month set aside in the offseason to stay with my family, and then we can look into finding a bigger place. that building by the beach has an apartment open," lucy told you. she knew how badly you wanted to rent that place. it was nearly twice the size of your apartment, pet friendly, and practically right on the beach. it was the perfect place in your mind.

"lucy, i love you, but if you scare me like that, i'll never speak to you again," you threatened. both of you knew that it was an empty threat, but lucy still apologized and did her best to cheer you up on the way to your date. "luce, why are we at the park?"

"come on, you'll see." you were a bit apprehensive of lucy walking you through the park, but you trusted her. the sun was quickly setting in the sky, and by the time that lucy finally stopped the two of you, it was dark. lucy had your eyes covered up, but you could see the faint bits of lights through the cracks in her fingers.

"lucy, this is amazing. you did this for me?" your voice cracked, betraying the overwhelming happiness you felt. lucy cradled your face in her hands and brushed her thumbs across your cheeks. "why?"

"i didn't do it alone, but i did it because i love you. we've both been so busy lately, and you deserved a nice date night. i knew that you'd be upset when i told you about my decision, so i hoped this would help distract you. now, come on, let's enjoy this because i'm pretty sure that if we don't hurry, pina and patri are gonna come out of the bushes at any moment to steal our food," lucy joked. she pulled you over towards the table, where you did notice some rustling from behind one of the bushes.

everything was perfect. you had a delicious meal in a gorgeous setting with the best company in the world. the only thing that you thought could have made it better was if lucy had dropped down onto one knee to propose. however, you knew that lucy wanted both of you to be done with football before that happened. lucy's break wouldn't last forever, and even if it did, you knew that your relationship could handle whatever choices she made after that.

[talesofesther]

I guess that's love

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: Wednesday sees herself stuck in the memory of one night; the night you almost died. She feels it's her fault, your blood on her hands says as much.

A/N: This is loosely based on Can't Pretend by Tom Odell and After Hours by The Weeknd which was suggested by the lovely @abelvrla. Also, I think it's valid to say that this story is mostly me having fun with some of my favorite tropes, so idk if this turned out kinda bad or similar to any of my other works; but I do hope you can enjoy it anyway. <3

Word count: 4,5k of feelings.

Masterlist

It's red. All she sees is red.

It stains the white porcelain of the sink before going down the drain.

Blood never bothered Wednesday, one could say she enjoyed the sight of it.

Now, she's almost rubbing her hands raw. It's a hurried motion, she brushes the soap over her palm with urgency, clawing at her own skin under the running water; yet it's still there.

She feels a little nauseated. Maybe it's because her breathing is all over the place. Sometimes too fast; sometimes not fast enough, clogged up in her throat.

She washes. And washes. And… keeps washing. The skin of her hands becomes reddish. The blood — your blood — eventually, finally fades.

But does it really? Wednesday feels the stain to be permanent.

Looking down at her hands — her vision a little blurry but she doesn't think about that — she catches herself shaking. Her chest is impossibly tight, it hurts to feel the beating of her own heart.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to dread your death?

She's disoriented when she exits the bathroom, not registering immediately where she is. The white walls of the hospital hurt her eyes.

It's been such a long night.

Is it still night?

The tie around Wednesday's neck seems to be choking her. She reaches her hands up to loosen it, but the feeling doesn't go away. She discards the garment altogether.

That's when she notices the blood stains on the cuffs of her white shirt. She curses under her breath. She wants to throw up. Or change out of these ruined clothes, but it feels like a waste of time.

"…nesday? Wednesday!"

She looks up upon hearing the calls of her name, only to see Principal Weems regarding her with evident worry. She's a little paler than usual, the night definitely hasn't been kind to her either.

There are only a few doctors walking around, some of them give Wednesday a strange look as they pass her by. A pungent smell of disinfectant hangs in the air. The sky outside the window bleeds in soft shades of dark purple and orange — the sun is already rising to a new day.

"You need to get checked out too, follow me." Weems reaches out to Wednesday's shoulder, trying to guide her to an empty room.

Wednesday ignores it, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder. "Where is she?"

Weems avoids her eyes then, sighing exasperatedly because she knows arguing will lead her nowhere; "she's being treated, we'll be able to see her soon."

"I want to see her now," Wednesday states, before walking past Larissa without even knowing which door she should go to.

"She's in surgery, miss Addams," Weems insists, finality in her tone. "We'll only make things worse going there now."

It's funny, how you've always told Wednesday she should put herself out there more, not be afraid to feel or let people close. Yet now you only prove her right in her reasoning that emotions only exist to torture people. Not in a good way.

But she did it anyway, didn't she?

She allowed herself to feel things.

Wednesday is frozen to the pristine tiles, her nails almost piercing her skin as she clenches her fists.

"I'm worried too, but all we can do now is wait," Weems softens once she notices the shaking of Wednesday's body. She takes a careful step closer to the girl, "if you don't want to see a doctor come back to the school with me, take a shower, put some clean clothes on. I'll drive you back when we're allowed to see her."

—

The warm water soothed Wednesday's muscles, it washed away the dried blood from her hair and the dirt clinging to her skin. It was relieving.

She's now standing in front of the bathroom mirror and the reflection staring back at her is not one she easily recognizes. Her skin looks paler than usual — if that's even possible — there are dark circles around her eyes and even she has to admit she looks exhausted.

Wednesday reaches a hand to touch her abdomen, nimble fingers tracing the spot that should be ripped open but isn't. Not even a scar remains; no telltales that she had been stabbed just a few hours ago.

She shivers at the thought. Death's cold embrace is a little more taunting when seen up close.

For a fleeting second, Wednesday catches herself planning to go to your room — as she usually did most nights before she pushed you away. She would sit beside you on your bed, her shoulder would brush yours and she'd comment about how you could even sleep in a bed this small, yet she wouldn't pull away. She'd talk with you about how good it felt to drive a knife into the old pilgrim's heart. Maybe she'd even tell you she had been scared. Maybe you'd try to hold her hand and she'd let you, gripping you tighter than she should.

Your comfort was Wednesday's most prized secret. You were her favorite broken rule.

The salty taste of a tear on her lips brings Wednesday back to reality. The reality where she doesn't have a single scar on her body and you're in a hospital bed fighting to stay alive.

She dries her cheeks harshly, turning around to put on her sweater and dark pants.

—

It's 6 PM when Principal Weems brings her back to the hospital and Wednesday is finally allowed into your room.

There's a stillness to it that she hates. You are too still. Several tubes are attached to your body as you lay on the hospital bed, there are bandages around your torso, some of them faintly tainted red. The machine that tracks your heartbeat is beeping in a lazy rhythm.

Wednesday doesn't dare breathe as she walks closer, stopping right beside you so she can cast over each scrape on your skin.

There was too much blood loss, Weems had told her moments ago. Wednesday knew that, she was the one who kept what was left of your blood inside your body until the ridiculously slow help finally arrived.

Weems also told her the bullet was short of doing major damage, and that despite now being weak, you were lucky and should wake up within a few days.

It does absolutely nothing to set Wednesday's heart at ease.

You're too still.

She can barely see your chest moving with the soft breathing. Your features are so serene, so emotionless. She could say you're dead if she didn't know any better.

Wednesday doesn't move for several moments, it's almost as if she's afraid to. She holds herself stiff at your side, glaring at you as if you'd wake up only to hear her scolding.

She hates that this is the first time she's been this close to you, in what? Two or three weeks?

It feels unfair, unfitting. Like it's all wrong.

But she can't complain. It's her fault.

A vain attempt at keeping you safe. Maybe it only made things worse;

—

"You know, as far as dates go, this is pretty creative," you told her, dodging fallen logs and rocks as you walked amongst the woods.

Wednesday turned back to look at you with an unreadable expression, "no one said this was a date."

"What would you call it then?"

"Investigating."

You groaned, falling into step beside Wednesday. Just so you could see the heavenly way the moonlight shaped her features. There was fog in the cold air, trees nothing but dark silhouettes around you; it suited her. "You're no fun."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Wednesday felt your hand brushing hers. She hated how it made her focus waver. "Besides, you're the one who agreed to accompany me."

"Of course I did," you explained easily, "you asked me to."

Wednesday gulped, things felt more intimate than they should when the only witnesses around you are trees.

"Why was that?" You dared take hold of her hand then, your cold fingertips closing around her own. She stopped abruptly, and you observed the way her shoulders tensed. "You say you don't need anyone, yet here I am."

Wednesday's breath turned shallow, she didn't feel like looking at you. Because you were right, it was a break in her pattern; her rules.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to break her rules?

You came to stand before her, your other hand taking hold of her free one so you could pull her closer. And she let you. Another step and any left space between you will vanish.

"Why won't you tell me?" You asked for what felt like the millionth time, but you didn't really hope for an answer.

You're familiar with her. She allows you close; you hold her hand, you touch her cheek, you braid her hair. Yet she never tells you why she allows you to do it.

Wednesday kept her eyes focused somewhere on your lips, counting the specks of color there, still as a corpse.

She saw the ghost of a smile that came to your lips before you leaned closer. And alarms were blaring inside her head, her lungs aching because of how she refused to breathe; yet she didn't move away.

You kissed her softly, gently. Your lips mapped hers in a way that felt like it always should've been.

And she melted against you, her hands clutching yous.

But as all things do, as Goody warned her time and time again; it didn't last. Shockwaves cursed through Wednesday's body and she was taken to another reality.

A reality where you were screaming her name in one second, and the next you were laying on the dirty ground, a pool of blood forming under you.

Wednesday jumped away from you the second she came back to herself, her eyes wide and breathing frantically as she strived to not pass out from what she'd just witnessed in her mind.

You were speaking, trying to reach out for her again as you asked what was wrong.

Wednesday felt her eyes sting, all she could see was your blood on her hands.

—

Her vision from that night came back in the form of nightmares for many nights after. Getting Wednesday to start dreading sleep.

She remembers warning you to never come near her again just before she sprinted away, leaving you alone in the woods with no further explanation. She avoided you, accepting the fact you might hate her, but it was okay because you'd be doing it alive.

All in vain, because her vision became a reality anyway.

"How could you be so stupid?" Wednesday tells you, but only the hospital walls hear it. "Jumping in front of me like that, it was ridiculous. Don't you see it? That's why you should've stayed away."

It's useless, you won't wake up to hear her complaints.

Wednesday exhales sharply and turns away from you, "it shouldn't have happened, I tried to-" There's a lump in her throat, it tangles her words, "but you're so stubborn… If you die before me, I'll kill you, I will-"

I don't know what I'll do. Wednesday thinks to herself. She sits on the chair that's beside your bed, watching through the window as the sun hides behind Jericho's mountains.

"You're missing your stupid sunset," Wednesday finds herself whispering. A last attempt at getting you to open your eyes, because for some reason, you liked to see the ending of sunny days.

Nothing happens. You remain still. The beeping tracking your heart rate is still slow. The room remains too quiet.

Wednesday leans back on her chair, she stays motionless for several minutes; until her hand eventually finds you.

Wednesday wraps her fingers around the pulse point on your wrist, not trusting the machine to tell her you're not dead yet.

She holds tightly onto you. There's no one around to witness it.

—

You didn't wake up for four days. And every day, without failure, Wednesday came to see you. She'd sit beside your bed and wait, sometimes silent, sometimes speaking as if you'd talk back to her.

It was her own way of keeping herself calm, busy.

Though the sleepless nights were starting to take a toll on her; sour mood and thinner patience being her new normal, along with the dark circles around her eyes.

Every time she closes her eyes, she's back there — warm blood on her hands and your life slipping from her grasp — so she refuses to do it.

Enid has seen her roommate nap hunched over her desk too many times to not get worried, but with being shut out every time she asked what she could do to help, she eventually stopped.

Wednesday could hate you for messing up her life.

She doesn't.

—

The day you woke up, Wednesday was nowhere to be seen.

All of your friends came to see you, overwhelming you with love and tales about how each of them missed a part of you in their lives.

You felt sore all over, as if you'd been hit by a truck — getting shot then staying unconscious in bed for days will do that to someone, you figured.

Enid was the one who stayed to accompany you back to school when you were discharged from the hospital, along with Principal Weems, of course.

"It feels like I'm learning to walk all over again," you groaned, one hand coming up to clutch at your abdomen as you got to your feet.

"Take it slow, we've got time," Enid kindly held a hand out for you, which you promptly took.

There are a million questions swimming in your mind, losing these many days from your life feels strange. You halted but the world didn't.

You asked the one that you first thought of when you woke up; "Enid," you stop walking so you can look into her eyes, "how is Wednesday? Did she got hurt?"

A complicated array of emotions pass through Enid's features, too fast for you to put your finger on any of them. She looks at you with something akin to sympathy; "she's… fine." Enid chews on her bottom lip, pondering whether she should tell you or not. Naturally, she can't hold back, "she hasn't left your bedside once."

You must have looked rather surprised, because Enid keeps going; "it's true, there wasn't a day that she didn't come to see you."

You don't know how you should feel. You think it's unhealthy for your heart to be beating as fast as it is right now after what you've just been through, but you can't get it to slow down, not when such a bomb is dropped on you.

Almost a month ago, Wednesday told you to never come near her again. Today, Enid tells you she's been by your side this whole time.

"Why?" You ask.

Enid doesn't know the answer.

—

It feels like a fever dream. Your bullet wound, the hospital visits, the remains of the fight. Everything. It feels like it didn't happen.

Because when you got back to Nevermore, everything was back to how it was. The damage to the school was repaired, classes were steadily going back to being routine, and Wednesday hasn't looked in your mere direction once — she, being the epitome of healthy coping mechanisms and dealing with feelings, avoids you like the plague.

You asked Enid to tell Wednesday that your door was open if she ever wished to talk.

Several days have gone by already and she hasn't taken you up on your offer.

You walk out of the cafeteria with a heavy heart and twirling an apple in your hand. You miss her. You hate how your days still feel hollow without Wednesday's presence on them, it's weird because she's not the type of person who usually makes her presence known; but you miss the weight of her shoulder resting against yours, the familiar comfortable silence you'd share when only enjoying each other's existence while reading.

It's a grey day outside. You see her before you see anything else when you walk into the quad. She has her back to you, black braids haphazardly done falling over her shoulders as she sits with Enid on one of the tables.

The werewolf notices you and waves you over, an encouraging smile on her lips. You give her a look that shows your uncertainty, but she insists.

You take a deep breath and follow the stone path that leads to her table. There's a limp on your steps still, telltales of the fight; sometimes you feel the eyes of your peers lingering on you. You wonder what they're thinking about, what they see when they look at you. A brave hero or a stupid kid?

What do they see when they look at her? A lonely, unfortunate soul or the savior of the school?

You sit down beside Enid, consequently in front of Wednesday, your hands resting in your lap as your knee goes up and down anxiously.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Enid greets you happily, as if there isn't a tension thick enough to cut through in the air.

The question almost goes over your head. You're focusing on the Addams girl in front of you, on the way her knuckles suddenly go white as she grips the lunch tray like her life depends on it.

"I'm alright," you answer, eyes fixed on Wednesday — she holds you in a trance.

"I've been meaning to ask if you have the notes from our last class?" Enid continues, in a kind effort to make things less complicated.

"I uh-" you start, but cut yourself off when Wednesday hastily gets up from her seat, not sparing you a glance as she turns around and walks away.

You watch her retreating figure, the ends of her skirt bouncing with her steps. With a groan, you begrudgingly take a bite from your apple, "there's no figuring her out, I'm done," you mumble over your mouthful.

Though you're not sure if you truly mean it.

"Don't say that," Enid pouts, keeping her eyes on Wednesday until she disappears through the doors that lead inside the school.

"She made it explicitly clear she wants nothing to do with me, Enid," you shrug, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips, "I think it's my fault anyway, so… I won't bother her anymore."

Enid turns, straddling the bench she's sitting on so she can fully face you; "what do you mean?"

You breathe in deeply, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach just thinking about it. "A few weeks before all that shit happened, we shared a- a moment."

Enid instantly smiles, her eyes twinkling with excitement, "you kissed?"

You chuckle timidly, smiling along with the memory, "yeah," but your gaze dropped to your hands right after. "I think it was a mistake."

"I doubt it," Enid tells you confidently then, as if she's in on a secret you're not.

You raise an eyebrow at her.

Enid glances between you and the door that Wednesday had disappeared into, tasting the words on her tongue before she spills them over for you. She breathes in, and relents; "after you passed out…" she gulps, dreadful memory still fresh, "right after you got shot, from the blood loss. Wednesday, she- I never saw her so desperate."

Only from the emotions swimming in Enid's eyes, you could tell she was being honest. You couldn't help the tightness in your chest upon imagining Wednesday going through that.

"It was almost as if she knew you wouldn't make it, that you wouldn't survive," Enid keeps going, "or at least that's what she believed in."

Clarity shoots through you like a bullet as your eyes widened with the words. Ironic much, but that was the feeling.

Because there was a possibility, that Wednesday saw your misfortune before it even happened. Right when you kissed her, no less.

And if that was the case, you couldn't imagine the torment she's been under ever since.

—

The night is calm, you can see clouds shaping the moon as you walk the path outside that leads to Ophelia Hall. It's a little late, just past curfew but you prefer it that way — fewer people around, the hallways will be empty.

It's a struggle for you to walk up the stairs, you have to stop once to catch your breath and allow the nagging pain that shoots up your leg to subside. Details. Tonight feels important, because you're going to see her; you'll make sure of it, even if she insists otherwise.

You stop in front of the dark wooden door. If you strain your ears, you can hear the faint noise of her typewriter. Enid isn't there, you know she's at Yoko's room tonight — her idea, not yours. Privacy is important, she told you, right after all but commanding you to do what you're doing.

With a deep breath in and feeling more nervous than you thought you would, you raise your fist, and knock.

The typing noise stops, you hear her chair scratching the floor. You couldn't breathe even if you tried.

The door pulls open and your heart melts a little at the sight; Wednesday stands in front of you with a hoodie and sweatpants on, and her hair free of braids, clearly not expecting anyone to show up at this hour.

You're snapped out of your trance when you register the door closing again. You quickly hold it open with your hand; "hear me out, please."

"No," Wednesday huffs, "I told you to stay away."

"Yeah, and not much else," you push through, squeezing your way inside her room and closing the door behind you. Wednesday takes a big step back as if you'd burn her. It hurts. "Could've given me a reason."

With a deep breath in, Wednesday sets her jaw tight, "I don't owe you anything."

You avoid her eyes then, "maybe not, but I thought we had-"

"We didn't," Wednesday tells you, the shake of her voice makes you look up, and you think you see her eyes glistening, "we don't."

You nod slowly, and despite the bleeding of your heart, you speak softly; "did you see it?" You chew on the inside of your cheek, fumbling with your hands so they don't tremble, "that night, you had a vision didn't you? About what happened to me?"

There's a sudden stillness to the room that feels awfully familiar to Wednesday. She hates the way she can't seem to control her breathing pattern, she hates that the image of you in front of her is becoming blurry.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me? Because I got hurt?"

Your words urge Wednesday's mind to travel back to that night. She closes her eyes tightly, causing a tear to roll down her cheek and part of her wants to kick you out of the room for making that happen.

"You're a liability," she tells you the first thing her mind conjures up.

You chuckle humourlessly, "ouch, considering I saved your life that's-"

"Exactly the problem." Wednesday interrupts urgently, "are you stupid? If you insist on staying close to me you'll only hurt yourself." Her voice breaks at the end of the sentence, as if it caused her physical pain to speak.

You've never heard her this vulnerable, this scared. Your heart bleeds but for a different reason; for the affection you hold for her, for not being able to protect her from what happened. You take a step further towards her and breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn't take one away from you. "And what if staying away hurts me just as much? What then?"

It's quiet. Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. All you see are her cheeks slowly being stained with tear tracks as they roll all the way down to her chin and drip to the floor, her eyebrows scrunching in hurt. But she's so quiet.

You take one more step. "Tell me why."

A beat of silence, and then; "you made me… care about you and then you go and almost die." Wednesday chokes out angrily.

You smile sadly, finally hearing the words you've been chasing; though you'd prefer them in better circumstances, "caring about people can be… scary."

You don't think she registered that you were so close. Wednesday flinches when your hand touches hers, it's a ghost of a touch, barely there, yet it feels almost like an embrace.

"But I promise you, I'm not going anywhere," you say quietly, tears pooling at the bottom lid of your eyes as you carefully hold her hand properly.

Wednesday is frozen in place, it feels like someone reached past her ribs and is squeezing the organ that pumps her blood. She hates that she must look like a mess, yet this is the first time in weeks that she feels she can actually breathe. Part of her has been stuck on that night — hands stained with your blood as the paramedics take you away from her — until now.

Her fingers tentatively close around yours, her lips part and she struggles a little to get the words out, "it's not a promise you can keep."

"I can try," you whisper. You see it clearly in her eyes; the guilt she's been carrying. "What happened that night, it wasn't your fault, you have to know that, Wednesday."

"It was because of me," she reasons just as quietly, "and almost took you from me."

Goosebumps raise on your skin at her words. Your thumb gently traces her hand. It's private, it's delicate, it's a moment that belongs to you two only. "It'll take more than a bullet for you to get rid of me," you tease with a tearful grin.

Slowly, you bring her hand up so it rests over your chest; her palm flush with your skin as your heart beats rhythmically right underneath it. "I'm right here," you breathe.

It's all it takes for her to, finally, surrender. Wednesday stumbles forward, and you're there to catch her. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands clutch at the fabric of your shirt to the point of ripping. You encircle your own arms around her waist, pressing her tightly to you.

Wednesday is still mostly quiet, the only thing you can hear if you focus hard enough is the occasional hitch of her breath. But you feel the way her tears soak your shirt, the way her body trembles as she gives her all to contain her sobs.

"There was… so much blood," is all she tells you, words muffled against your skin.

"I know," you slide one of your hands up to her head, entangling your fingers through her hair, "I'm so sorry it had to be you." You plant several kisses on her temple and on her hair, each one is a different promise.

I'm here.

I won't leave.

My blood will never be in your hands again.

You think she understands, because you feel her own lips brushing the skin of your shoulder; cold, damp with tears. Tender.

I love you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

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[nishimuraazr1zzkiii]

You big baby ༘⋆p.js

🍝

༘⋆Genre: fluff

.ᐟWarnings: nothing too extreme.

❅WC: 0.6k

ᝰNotes: got inspired since someone I know cries everytime they get a fever and their suitor took care of them(made me feel single istg)

๋Thinking about how jay would take care of you when you have a fever especially if you cry when you have a fever.

On the first day of you fever, waking up to an afternoon sun shining directly in your already watery eyes and a cold towel on your forehead. Feeling around the bed, you don't feel jay next to you, already guessing that he must have left for work already.

Not having enough energy and you feel sluggish than usual, you stayed in bed for a few hours trying to fall back asleep since your fever was getting worse by the hour. Eventually your fever got worse to the point that tears started to well up in your eyes threatening to fall.

Just as you tried to sit up, you hear the front door open and quickly close, you figured it'd be jay since you weren't expecting any visitors but it was to early for him to be home.

The door to your creaks open, jay peaked from the door checking if you're awake or not. Seeing that you were sat in bed with tears in your eyes.

"Y/n! My love, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Jay rushed next to you and put down the plastic bag he was holding and cupped your cheeks while tears fell from your eyes as you sob quietly in jays arms. "I-i...don't k-know *hic* but m-my fever is ge-getting worse... " your voice trailed off by the end of your sentence, hearing this, jay immediately grabbed the plastic bag and took out a packet of pills, popping one out and grabbing the glass of water on your bedside table.

He gave you the pill and the glass of water, but you pushed it back to jay knowing you wouldn't be able to swallow the pill smoothly. "Ok y/n, I'll cook some soup for you and once I finish the soup, you can use it as a substitute for the water so you won't taste the pill" he got up from the bed and kissed your forehead, "get some rest while you wait, I'll leave the water and pills here if your thirsty" jay tucked you in bed and put a back the wet towel that was on your forehead and went out of the room.

.

.

.

You wake up a few hours later, you still felt like you were burning in a fire since your fever hasn't still cooled down, you hear the door open, showing jay holding a tray with a bowl of soup, a glass of water and the pills you still needed to take to make your fever go down.

"Is your fever still high Princess?" He put down the tray on the bedside table and checked your temperature and took the towel from your forehead away, "you should eat up and take the pill so the fever won't be so high tomorrow, do you need anything love?" You shook your head, indicating that you didn't need anything.

"alright then love, if you need me, I'll be down stairs cleaning all the dishes" but before jay had gotten a chance to stand up, you grabbed his hand, pulling him towards you on the bed "what is it love? Is there something wrong? " jay checked your temperature again "no... Can you.. Stay here with me for a while?" Your voice so quiet and soft that jay almost couldn't here you, he didn't say anything but he laid down next to you cuddling you to sleep, his face on your neck, your legs tangled together, his arm wrapped around your waist while the other one is under your head, jay softly caressing your hair, humming a soft tune lulling you both to sleep.

That's how the rest of your sick week has been. Waking up to jay cooking you breakfast and dinner, drinking your medicine, sleeping while waiting for jay to come back from practice, and cuddling to sleep.

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[somber-sapphic]

Uuhh can I request a Natasha x Sick!Reader. R is sorta new to the Avengers and doesn't really talk to anyone but Nat, R gets sick on a mission and no one seems to notice except Nat. R tries to take care of themselves back at the compound but can't so Natasha steps in? You can make it romantic or platonic I'm cool with either. Thanks in advance! And if you already have a fic like this my b just ignore 😅

Sickness and Secrets

〖Notes: Hey, sorry this was so late! Also I might accidentally be reusing pictures but its like 2am so I'll care about that later. I hope you enjoy it!〗

〖Summary: Being the newest member of the Avengers you really have no place to take a sick day.〗

〖Word Count: 1.4k〗

〖Pairing: Natasha x Sick Reader

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You coughed quietly into your shoulder and cleared your throat, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. They were all focused on Cap who was yelling about how poorly everyone had done in that last mission. He was particularly focused on “communication” which was definitely pointed at you although he was too polite to say it. Tony wasn’t. Eventually, he’d strengthen the link to you, and you’d be chewed out in front of everyone.

Said mission had been in Russia during the winter and you had not done very well. You’d then try your best to remedy your mistake, which of course made everything worse. You knew that you were sick before the team left, but being so new you couldn’t just say that you wouldn’t be able to go. None of the Avengers would skip a mission for a stupid little cold.

Then that stupid little cold had turned into something bigger. The fever had started the first night in that cold drafty cabin and had spiked by early that morning. Natasha, who you were sharing that tiny room with, had checked on you once when she’d heard your teeth clattering from the shivering. She had tried to order you to tell her, but you had been far too out of it for her words to have mattered.

You couldn’t entirely remember the conversation, but you were like 80% sure that she’d offered you a place in her bed if you couldn’t get warm. That had been a weird offer, but you were tempted to take her up on it. From what you remembered she had kissed your forehead but that was very likely a dream. No way she had actually done that, she barely knew you.

Regardless of your fever, the mission continued. And with it, you gained a chesty cough, aching limbs, and a seemingly permanently runny nose. You had done the best you could, but it admittedly wasn’t very good. You’d forgotten to say anything when you were attacking and apparently had your comms off the whole time so even when people were speaking to you your answers weren’t going through.

You did not do well and now Tony was very much making sure that you knew it. His words were a low buzz in your ears, and it was really all that you could do to keep your eyes trained on him as he paced around yelling at you.

Now everyone was looking between the two of you, a few smirks coming from Clint and Thor who were both amused by your proverbial ass-whooping. Natasha and Cap seemed annoyed while the others were just not listening, too tired to care. It had been a long week and you had screwed it up. All you did was mess up.

Hot tears welled up in your eyes and you stared down at your shoes, sniffling quietly as you tried to keep yourself under control. This wasn’t professional and you needed to keep yourself professional. It would’ve been easier if he wasn’t yelling, but he was, and you were losing control.

“Hey, we get it. Y/n fucked up. She’ll do better next time, let it go.” Natasha snapped, pulling you out of your stupor. You glanced over at her and found her leaning forward defensively with one hand drifting over to your side of the table.

Completely overwhelmed now you shoved the chair back from the table and stumbled out of the conference room, mumbling slurred apologies as you practically ran from the room. You’d made it about halfway to the elevator when your legs gave out and you slammed into the wall, bashing your cheek against the hardwood. It hurt, but not as much as the rest of you.

You let out what was probably the most pathetic sound you’d ever made as you slid down the wall, the stupid tears beginning to fall from your eyes. You were miserable, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and maybe die a little bit. That sounded okay, as long as you didn’t have to feel anything.

You weren’t sure how long you were laying there before you heard muffled footsteps, but you simply didn’t have the energy to look up. It didn’t really matter anyway; you could feel yourself slipping into unconsciousness. It would only be a few more seconds before you faded away completely.

“Let’s get you off the floor Y/n.” Natasha whispered, taking your hands in hers. You tried to listen, you tried to let her pull you to your feet, but you were too weak. You felt her arms slip around you and your feet left the floor, leaving you hanging in the air with only her to support you.

“Try to stay awake, okay?” Her voice was fading fast and as you’d guessed, you were out less than two seconds after she’d hoisted you into her arms. At least you didn’t have to be alone.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I’m here, I’m here. It’s okay beautiful, I’m here.” Natasha soothed, pushing your hair back away from your forehead, her eyes full of concern. Her hands, which were typically consumed by acts of violence, were so gentle, her movements so slow and caring. She traced your cheekbone with a thumb, studying your face with a furrowed brow.

“m’sorry, m’so sorry. Go, please go, ‘m fine.” You insisted, shoving her off of you in a blind attempt to scramble away from her. You found yourself pressed up into a corner between your bed and the wall, utterly confused as to how the hell you had gotten into your bedroom or why Natasha was there, but you didn’t like it.

You didn’t want to see her so weak it was humiliating, and you were new. She would tell, she would get you booted from the Avengers. You needed this job, you needed to be here, you’d worked so hard and couldn’t go back to your apartment. Literally, you had been evicted. You had nowhere else to go.

Your panicky breaths quickly turned to a fit of aggressive coughs, you sounded like you’d smoke a pack a day for twenty years. This did nothing to help your anxiety as one of Natasha’s warm hands fell on your back and she took yours with the other, running her thumb across your knuckles.

“Y/n, hey, you’ve gotta breathe. Try for me, okay? Big slow breath.” She encouraged, her voice calm even while you were actively freaking out. You let out a loud sob and tried to pull away, subconsciously still holding tightly to her hand.

With her quiet encouragement, you managed to calm yourself down, turning back into the shivering, feverish husk of a person that you’d become. Your nose was running onto your sleeve, but you were too exhausted to do anything about it, eventually, you’d fall asleep again and it would all go away.

“Come here,” she said softly, lifting one arm as she gestured for you to hug her. You whimpered, lower lip quivering as your body threatened to start crying again.

“It’s okay honey, you don’t need to be alone. When I’m as sick as you are I sometimes make Clint come read to me.” You smiled a little at the thought of that as you inched toward the woman, the idea of Natasha wanting a story read to her sort of amusing. You hadn’t known the woman very long, but it was long enough to know that she wasn’t that type of person.

With very slow, cautious movements you inched into the redhead’s arms, leaning stiffly against her as she pulled you into a loose embrace.

“I can’t give you any more medicine for a few hours, so for now let’s just try to sleep. Does that sound okay?” The highly skilled assassin murmured, pressing a very soft kiss to your damp forehead. You knew that it had to be gross, you were very sweaty, but she didn’t seem to mind. Not out loud at least.

“P-please don’t tell.” You pleaded, that same exhaustion looming again. It was unlikely that you would be able to stay awake for much longer, but you had to make sure that she wouldn’t tell anyone how weak you were. Natasha chuckled quietly and rubbed your upper arm in a comforting way.

“It’s okay dorogaya, your secret’s safe with me.”  Maybe if you were feeling better, you would’ve made her promise a second or third time, but for now, that would do. You barely knew her, but you already trusted Natasha Romanoff with your life.

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[literaryavenger]

Broken - part 3

Summary: You find Bucky having a panic attack and do your best to help him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Panic attack. Innocent and broken Bucky. I'd also like to say I never actually had a panic attack but did my best to write the whole process with the research I did. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.1K

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: I'll say it till the end of time: English isn't my first language and this is my first fanfic. I'm thinking of starting to write fanfics because I have so many different ideas and scenarios and I have NO idea where this one is going, so maybe let me know if you'd like to read more from me? Idk. If you find mistakes please feel free to point them out so I can correct them. I'd also love some feedback and constructive criticism Enjoy!

Masterlist

As soon as you left the medbay, you immediately went to the floor where the guest rooms are, determined to check up on Bucky.

You find them all empty, so you decide to check around the tower in all the communal spaces: Living room, kitchen, training rooms, ecc.

Nothing.

At this point you're starting to wonder if he left the tower altogether. "Jarvis?" you decide to ask the AI.

"Yes, Miss Y/LN?" he answer.

"Do you happen to know where Bucky is?"

"He's locked himself in his room." Jarvis promptly answers, leaving you a little confused.

"But I checked the guest rooms, they were all empty."

"Mr Barnes has been assigned a permanent room, like every other Avenger."

"Oh." you say, a little surprised but happy about it "Could you tell me where it is?"

"It's on the 48th floor, room next to yours and in front of Mr. Wilson’s."

"Thank you, J." you say, making your way to the elevator.

"You're welcome, Miss." he says.

It made sense he would get assigned that room. It's one of the last ones left free as the team keeps growing, and it also happens to be the floor where Steve lives along with you and Sam.

You get to your floor and are thankful to see that it's empty, not wanting to confront anybody else today.

You make your way through the corridor and stop at the first bedroom on the left, Bucky's new room.

You gently knock on the door but don't get any type of answer, so you knock a little louder.

Again, nothing.

"Bucky, it's Y/N." you can't hear anything. "

I just wanted to make sure you were okay? Jarvis, are you sure he's in there?" you ask after not hearing a sound.

"Positive, miss Y/LN." you consider what to do for a few seconds.

He obviously doesn't want anyone's company. Or maybe he just doesn't want yours.

After all, you have known him less than a day, and he did left the medbay after you made eye contact and you saw him crying.

You hope he doesn't think you agree with what Tony said, even though you didn't even try to defend him after you learned about his past. But you were just shocked, whatever you expected, it definitely was not that.

Before you could decide to knock again or just leave him alone, you hear a very muffled sob coming from the other side of the door. As much as you do want to respect his privacy, you're getting a little worried.

You try opening the door but it's locked. "Jarvis, override lock on Bucky's room."

"Lock override successful." he says just as you hear the lock click.

You carefully open the door and look towards the bed, but see that it's empty.

You come in and close the door behind you, standing with your back against it and trying to adjust to the newfound darkness in the room without the light from the corridor.

You look around the room trying to locate Bucky when you hear another quiet sob coming from the furthest corner of the room.

You slowly make your way towards it and, as soon as you're close enough, you see Bucky curled up with his arms hugging his legs against his chest and his head buried in his legs.

"Bucky...?" you try to get his attention before getting any closer so as to not scare him, but you’re not sure if he can even hear you.

He's still visibly shaking like before and sobbing very quietly but uncontrollably. you get closer and kneel down right in front of him, gently putting a hand on his shoulder.

His head shoots up in surprise and the look on his face is that of pure fear as he moved back as close as he can against the wall and as far away from you as possible.

you feel bad for scaring him, and pull away a bit further from him, but still close enough so he can see who you are after the initial shock.

You can tell he recognizes you when his face and his shoulders drop some of the tension, although he makes no attempts to get closer to you.

You decide to try and get a little closer after a few moments, so you slowly get back to kneeling right in front of him while he watches your every move but doesn't try to get further away.

His eyes are wide open and his breathing is getting quicker by the second, tears still streaming down his face.

Then you realize he's having a panic attack.

You consider your options for a second. You've never had a panic attack yourself, but you know Tony gets them and, although you've happened to be there for a few of them over the years, you were never the one to calm him down. Getting him wasn't an option either, everything considered.

You could try to get Steve, he might know what to do if this has happened to Bucky before, but seeing Bucky's breathing get quicker and quicker you guess there's not enough time to get him here.

Then suddenly you remembered something helpful, thank fuck.

"Bucky, look at me." you order him quietly so as to not make him panic even more.

He meets your eyes, meaning you have his attention, but shows no signs of calming down.

"Tell me five things you can see." You simply tell him.

He's confused for a moment, but seeing the determined look on your face you guess he decides that he indeed heard correctly what you asked of him and starts looking around.

"I can see..." He starts but seems to have trouble finishing his sentence.

"It's okay, just try to take a deep breath and concentrate on the things around you." You tell him in the softest voice you can while trying not to panic yourself.

"I-I can see a lamp," he starts, looking around. "the door... a bed, a chair, and... a desk?" he finishes, a little unsure of what he's even doing.

"Good. Now, tell me four things you can touch." you tell him, still surprisingly calm.

"I can touch the carpet" he says, slowly touching the fluffy carpet under him. "The dresser, the wall..." he says, touching the dresser at his right and the wall at his left that he was basically hiding between.

"And... Um..." he looks like he has a little trouble coming up with a fourth thing, until he reaches for you, puts his right hand on your shoulder and says "And you."

You chuckle, which seems to calm him just the slightest bit and you keep going. "Alright, tell me three things you can hear."

He stays quiet for a few seconds, listening for sounds you imagine, and then says "I can hear the AC, the rain and the elevator being used."

He then looks at you waiting for the next thing, but you take a second to realize what he said and you're impressed.

You hadn't even realized it's raining and the elevator was all the way across the floor. The hearing on this man. With a small 'damn' that you’re now sure he can hear, you keep going.

"Tell me two things you can smell." you tell him.

You can see his nose scrunch a little, which you find adorable, and he says "I can smell jasmine." looking at the flower vase on his bedside table filled with jasmines, your favorite flowers that Tony tends to leave here and there just for your enjoyment.

"And… strawberries?" he says, a little confused with his answer.

You're confused too until you realize what he's probably smelling. "Oh, it's probably just my shampoo" you say with a chuckle.

He gives you a nod with a smile smile and you say "Now, last thing, tell me one thing you can taste."

He thinks about your words for a second, a look of concentration on his face, then he looks back at you and says, very quietly. "I can taste my tears."

you give him a sad smile and say "That's heartbreaking... But on the bright side, you're not panicking anymore."

He gives you a sad smile of his own, but seems to suddenly realize everything that just happened.

His face drops and he bows his head, refusing to look you in the eye, clearly very embarrassed that you saw him in the middle of a panic attack.

"Are you okay?" you ask him softly, tears still running down his face and his body still trembling a little but visibly more calm.

"I should be the one asking you that..." he answers, his voice a little hoarse from all the crying.

You can't help the smile that makes its way on your face at his concern.

"I'm fine, thanks to you. Are you okay, though?" you ask again.

"You shouldn't be here..." he says quietly.

He's still avoiding your question, so instead you ask "Why not?"

"I could hurt you..." he says in a small, sad voice that breaks your heart.

"Would you hurt me?" you ask.

He frowns and almost immediately says "of course not" still very quietly.

You give him a reassuring smile and say "Then I'm not worried." he finally looks up at you and gives you a small smile.

After a few minutes of silence, you feel the need to ask him. "Was that the first time that happened to you?"

He shakes his head and, when you don't say anything else and just look at him expectantly, he elaborates.

"I've had a few in the last three months, since... You know..." He says with a quiet voice and avoided your gaze. "It was the first time someone helped me though... Steve tried to, but they wouldn't let him..." he finishes.

You know by 'they' he means the guards at the Raft, so you don't ask any more questions about it, knowing he probably wants to forget about that place in the first place.

So instead you get up, look down at him and, extending your arm for him to take, you ask. "Why don't you get some sleep? You look exhausted."

He just nods, slowly taking your hand and getting up with absolutely no help from you. Being a big and strong dude of course he doesn't need it.

You walk to his bed and he sits down, you turn and are about to walk to the door when he stops you, his hand still in yours.

You turn back towards him and see him looking down, which makes you think that maybe you imagined him pulling on your hand?

But then you hear him, barely because of how low his voice is, asking "Can you stay?"

You aren't sure you heard right, so you ask him "You want me to stay with you?"

But he seemed to take that as you thinking he was crazy for even suggesting something like that because he very quickly drops your hand and says "You don't have to, you probably have enough of me after the panic attack, it's alright you can go." and just lays down on the bed, turning his back on you.

You stand there for a moment, thinking of what to do before you decide that not only is it clear that Bucky was desperately reaching out, not wanting to be alone, but you don't want to be alone either.

And, right now, it feels like Bucky is your only friend left in the tower. The only one you aren't pissed at, at least.

You move closer to his bed and quietly say "Bucky... I can stay, if you want me to."

He turns around to face you, a little shocked so you give him a smile to let him know you're serious.

He scoots over to make space for you and, after taking off your shoes and without either one of you saying another word, you lay down on your back.

After several minutes of silence you hear him quietly say "Thank you." which makes you turn on your side so you're facing him, only to find him already facing you.

"Anytime." you whisper back with a smile, which he returns.

You stay like that for a little while, just looking at each other, and eventually you fall asleep, his beautiful, freakishly blue eyes being the last thing you see.

Bucky watches you sleep for a bit until he also falls into a quiet sleep, with you very unaware of the fact that this is the first time in years, if not decades, that Bucky actually gets a full night of peaceful sleep.

Part 4

[divine-donna]

your desire

got inspired, so here's something for steven grant. because i love awkward autistic oscar isaac.

pairing: steven grant x gender neutral! reader

for vibes: "venus" by bananarama

you were in london for a phd program. you wanted to pursue a doctorate in art history and work with repatriation. after all, every place deserved their stuff back.

especially from the british museum.

you lived in a simple flat across from the sweetest man you've ever met: steven grant.

now, aside from how tired he was and the sometimes weird things you'd wake up to coming from his apartment, he was a good neighbor.

at one point, he even helped you unlocked your door after you had left your keys in the apartment. you rushed to get out of the apartment as fast as possible and came back near 1am without your keys.

"i didn't even know i could do that." is what he said when he successfully gets your door open. you were sure he was joking. he was being genuine.

the dating scene in london wasn't...well, the state of dating was bad in general. especially considering that half of the world literally disappeared and then came back, including your own brother. your father died thinking he was dead permanently, leaving you with a soft spot and a desire to pursue a fulfilling relationship.

why wait if you might die tomorrow? there was always another world ending event around the corner.

perhaps developing a crush on your attractive neighbor was not the way to go.

none of the people you went out with had steven's smile. had his curls. had his smile. had his nose. had his little information dumps that you adored.

but from the interactions you guys had, it seemed the destiny might be platonic. which hurt your soft, romantic heart.

you were about to retire for the night since you had class the next day. that's when you heard mumbling outside your door. peeking through the peephole, you can see the man looked downtrodden. he was holding some flowers and a box of chocolates.

you opening the door surprises him. he nearly jumps out of his skin. "(y/n)!"

"hey." you lean against the doorway and cross your arms over your chest. you were wearing some comfortable lounging clothes: a tank top and some fuzzy pants with hello kitty designs. "everything okay?"

"huh? yeah. i mean..." he purses his lips and sighs. "got stood up on a date." again.

you understood all too well. you lost count of how many dates you went on and they just didn't show up. not even a text to tell you they weren't coming, or to ask for a rain check. wasting your time. and being general dicks.

the state of dating was not it.

"i'm sorry. i'm sure there was a reason." perhaps there was. perhaps there wasn't. there was no point in thinking about it.

"yeah. well, good night!" even when upset, there was still a pep in his voice.

watching him pull out his keys made you feel...sad. you didn't want him to spend time alone.

"how about you come in for a cup of tea? that way you don't have to eat the chocolates alone."

steven turns around. there's a sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you, making you melt.

"i'd like that. a lot."

you move aside to let him in and close the door behind you. he removes his shoes, setting them on the side and you take his jacket to hang it up.

steven sits at one of the seats at the kitchen island, watching you pull out your kettle and fill it with water, before placing it on a burner. you adjusted the flame to a medium.

"you want some cake? i have some left. it's lavender lemon." you ask, pulling out two mugs. you love the way his face perks up. one of them was a mug from the gift shop with an egyptology theme.

"i think i'll be fine. but it's kind of you to offer."

"okay. what about tea?"

"do you have chamomile? kind of...basic but..." he would like a sleep aid.

you don't say anything. you just smile at him and grab the box from your cabinet. you place a bag in each much, discarding the proper trash. "so...you wanna talk about it?"

steven spends the next few minutes talking about his feelings. it felt good for him to unload and vent just a little bit. he held no ill will towards his date. just some frustration about how his romantic life has hit a brick wall. something was always getting in the way of him pursuing a relationship. something was always happening. he was always screwing up. perhaps he was the problem.

in the middle, your kettle was screeching. so you turned off the burner and poured it into the mugs, letting the tea steep.

you can't help but relate. with all the people who stood you up, you wonder if you are the problem. were you that unlovable, that undatable, that people can't even tell you they weren't coming?

steven stops talking when he notices the way you're looking at him: with intensity. you look like you want to tell him something. "what is it?"

"what? you can keep going."

"you want to say something. your lip is twitching." he gestures. he takes a sip of his tea.

"well...i don't know if..."

"go on. you can say it."

you take a sip of tea before looking at him. "it's not your fault. none of it is."

steven's smile is sad. "you don't have to say that."

"i mean it. steven...i know it feels like it is. hell, i relate a lot. sometimes it feels like you're the problem because no one else wants you. but it's not your fault. i think you're...pretty cool. and amazing."

he blinks slowly, almost like a cat. he's busy just looking at you, admiring your features. your beauty. and your warmth. not many people would invite people over just to vent.

"it's all good to vent. but i also think it's important to...think of it as redirection. like my dating life sucks but my studies are going well. and i'm going to be published."

"r-really?" he watches you walk over to the record and set your mug down. you look through the vinyls and pick one.

"yeah. academically too. so i get academic validation. which isn't everything, but it's certainly nice." it was important to get your work out there. you turn the player on, place the disk, and then drop the needle.

your body movies instinctively. you recognize the synth beat, picking up your mug and moving your hips. "this was my dad's. he really like british 80s synthpop." you turn to steven and take a sip of your tea.

he was trying his best not to stare, not to watch the way your hips moved. it was mesmerizing. he wasn't one for dancing. he was not the best at following a rhythm.

you dance over to him and gently take his hand. "come on steven."

"i don't think so." he sees your pout. "okay, okay."

he gets off the stool and lets you guide him to the middle of the room.

your hips move. your body is unchoreographed. you weren't really a dancer. but you can't help yourself. you spins a few times, bathing in the casualty of it all. and unknowingly bathing in steven's love filled gaze.

you look deep into his eyes. his soft brown eyes. and your eyes glance down to look at his lips. his soft looking kissable lips.

could you be bold? could you make a move? was it appropriate to make a move? you take a sip of her tea and sets the mug down. "steven..." you bites her lip as the music keeps playing.

"y-yes (y/n)?" he could feel his cheeks warm up. especially as you step closer. your bodies are nearly touching.

you gently cup his face with one hand and pull him by his waist so his body is against yours. you could feel your own body against his. it was quite arousing.

you leans forward and kiss him softly, pulling away for a second only to kiss him again.

"i like you." you mutter against his lips.

steven doesn't know what to do. he's hesitant. because you want him. and maybe he wants you. but do you really want him? was it just the heat of the tea? or the music?

"you...you like...me?" surely there were better men. better people.

your eyes soften. "yes. i do. i like you. i like you a lot steven." the music appears to fade to a soft lull. your heart beats in your ears. perhaps you made a mistake.

"i know this is sudden. and maybe it's inappropriate considering that...you just got stood up and i invited you in my home and it seems weird and terrible honestly. and if you don't like me back that's fine. you can just tell me and i'll stop and you can go..." you begin rambling nervously. your mouth runs faster than you could comprehend.

he has to set his mug of tea down.

you stop talking when he presses a finger against your lips. he feels how soft they are. and is tempted to trace your lips with his finger. "don't...don't you dare stop."

your lips curled into a smile and he removes his finger to kiss you. his hands rest on your hips, trying to bring your bodies closer.

a small moan escapes you, feeling him grind up against you. his kisses are fervent, as if he's trying to taste you.

your back hits the edge of the tv stand, causing you to giggle. you let him kiss you, parting your lips so his tongue slides in. they dance for what feels like an eternity.

you manage to pull away and turn around so he's against the tv stand. then you tug him along, heading straight for your bedroom.

[abbyfmc]

[Yandere Time Traveler Chapter #2]

Chapter #1: Here

[Narrator PO.V]

Raymond got up and went to the bathroom to wash his face, but he tripped and fell to the floor. He looked back and found a cardboard box, which contained himself.

--What? What are my clothes doing there?-- He asked himself. Then he got up and went to his small living room, only to turn on the light and see more boxes of his clothes, plates, glasses, books and appliances like the stove and washing machine covered with cardboard, bubble wrap and grey tape, implying that they were newly purchased.

Then he remembered that in 2015 he had moved to that apartment in his past life; he even checked the little he had in the refrigerator and the production date of said products coincided with… the year 2015. Raymond couldn't believe it; he sat down in one of the few chairs there were, and began to cry with joy for the new opportunity that fate had given him.

Life was rarely kind to him, but now he was lucky enough to go back in time and see the future, having the chance to change his ending. He thought about what he had to go through in his previous life and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

--I won't let history repeat itself again-- He told himself with determination. --I will definitely save (Y/n) and take revenge on Darius-- Then Raymond set out to prepare a small breakfast, and then he remembered that this year he was not yet a permanent employee at the construction and interior design company; in his previous life Darius secretly ruined his projects or promotion plans, and he decided that this time it would NOT be like that.Raymond arrived at the office early, clocked in, bought his coffee, and headed to his cubicle, bumping into his beloved (Y/n) on the way. He was glad to see her beautiful, healthy, and alive. Raymond couldn't help but smile at the sight of her.

Raymond arrived at the office early, clocked in, bought his coffee, and headed to his cubicle, bumping into his beloved (Y/n) on the way. He was glad to see her beautiful, healthy, and alive. Raymond couldn't help but smile at the sight of her.

--Hi Raymond, how are you?-- she asked him smiling. As delighted as he was with her smile, he had to concentrate on changing his future and staying with her.

--I'm fine, what about you?-- She asked him as they both walked to their cubicles, since they were side by side, both of them just had to stop and raise their heads to see each other. Despite the stress of the job, for Raymond it was enough to have her close and see her to feel good.

--I'm pretty fine-- Raymond sat in his office and turned on his computer, and during that he saw on the calendar at his side that on that same day, both he and (Y/n) had to clean the office at the end of the day.

Raymond starts thinking about how he could pass his bad luck on to Darius without physically confronting him, especially now that he knows what has to happen in the future. This time he wasn't going to sit back and do nothing, he was going to get revenge on him and everyone who hurt him, but he knows he can't do it alone.

He needs to get closer to (Y/n), move up the ranks, make more friends, and calculate his moves so as not to make a misstep and ruin everything.

--Raymond, remember that we have to clean today-- (Y/n) reminded him from the cubicle next to him, while Raymond was drinking his coffee and checking his work to do. He nodded and smiled once more when he stood up and saw her.

--Don't worry, (Y/n). I'll definitely help you throw out ALL the trash-- He replied, without her knowing that he would do it in the most literal sense of the word with this new opportunity to live, even if he has to hold back his desire to kill Darius for a while to achieve it.

-The end.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley had some explaining to do. After the most perfect weekend, you were afraid he was trying to hide information from you again. But Bradley didn't hold back when he told you what happened and what he was concerned about. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, mentions of cancer

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Your hands were shaky as you tried to call Bradley. You didn't understand what was going on, and you were pissed off that the first time you were hearing about him being involved with two people who were being court-martialed was through an email. You hated calling him when there was a chance he was in the air, but if that was the case, then his phone should be off.

Just as you were about to tap his contact in your phone, Bickel came rushing into the lab, arms full of folders. "Delete that email," he told you, out of breath. "The one from Yates. You weren't supposed to see it."

You looked up at him as you slid your phone down onto the counter. "Well, I did see it, sir," you whispered. "I don't even know what's going on."

"Neither do I," he responded gently, setting the folders down in a haphazard pile. "But I don't want your login credentials attached to this in any way. Whatever happened should stay out of your hands since your husband was involved with the special detachment. I'll take care of it. Understand?"

You started to nod, and then you said, "But, sir. Why am I getting emails from Admiral Yates?"

Your boss sighed and checked his watch. He looked frantic, and now you were really getting nervous for whatever must have happened during Bradley's deployment. But Bickel's words and the way he smiled kindly at you even though you could tell he was stressed out meant a lot.

"Because if you haven't noticed, you're second in command around here. Maybe not officially. Yet. But I rely on you for a lot of things, and everyone else in the group does, too. And your work is always spot on."

You felt tears prickle behind your eyes, and you had to look away from him as you muttered, "Thank you." But of course your eyes settled back on your computer screen and the email. 

"Delete the email," he repeated, and you knew he wasn't going to say it kindly a third time. So you did as your commanding officer told you to and watched the email soar into your trash can, and from there you deleted it permanently. "I'll take care of it myself so you know it's done correctly. I will pull the comms and verify the coding so you don't have to question whether or not the information being sent over has been properly validated. I don't want you worrying about this right now."

"But you'll need someone else to verify everything with you, sir," you whispered.

He nodded and closed your computer softly. "I'm just on my way to talk to Lieutenant Coleman about it. She's more than competent. She and I can sign off on it and get it ready tonight. You're dismissed for the day."

And that was it. Not another word. He picked up the folders and walked over to where Cat was sitting in front of her computer wearing the expensive headphones that were used to occasionally play back communications and check aircrafts for audio clarity. And Bickel interrupted her. It was kind of an unspoken rule that you didn't interrupt someone who was wearing the state of the art headphones. 

Cat jumped in her seat before giving Bickel her full attention. After a few seconds, her eyes met yours, and then she agreed with whatever he was telling her. You quietly stood and picked up your computer and headed for your office. 

You were the only one in your group with a private office other than Commander Bickel himself. Sure, yours was roughly a quarter of the size of his, and it had a view of the parking lot and a brick wall, but it was yours. And you were his number two. You really wanted to be able to enjoy that fact, but you'd been dismissed. Probably so he could talk about the court-martialing. And you figured that by now, Bradley would be wrapped up in these proceedings as well. 

You shoved all your stuff into your desk drawer and grabbed your keys. This morning had started off so beautifully: making out with your husband followed by an overpriced drink from Starbucks that he made sure was ready for you to pick up. 

When you opened your door to leave, Cat was standing there about to knock. "Yes?" you asked her, feeling like everyone must know what was going on now besides you.

"I just wanted to catch you before you left," she replied slowly. "I read the email from Yates. I promise I'll double and triple check everything even if I'm here all night."

"Thanks," you whispered, hoping you could trust her with this. You felt like somehow Bradley's integrity was tied to that audio.

Cat fiddled with her hands as she said, "It's my job, but you're also my friend." And then she turned on her heel and walked away so quickly, you couldn't really respond if you wanted to.

When you stumbled out of the elevator in the lobby, Jake was right there. "Have you seen Bradley?" you asked him, but he gathered you up in his arms and started to dance and spin you around in front of the main entrance. 

"Sure haven't. He's been locked away with Maverick all afternoon. Phoenix and Bob, too," he replied easily. "But guess who's going out with Cat tonight. Just take one guess, Angel."

"Oh," you gasped as he dipped you. Then you pressed your lips together, afraid to tell him that Cat and Commander Bickel would probably be verifying codes for the next several hours at least. 

He pulled you back to standing as he said, "Hang on, that's my phone." Jake pulled it out of his pocket and read the text message he received. "Shit. Cat cancelled on me."

"Jake-" But you stopped. You knew you shouldn't be talking about the special mission apparently gone wrong, but he looked so disappointed. He'd been wanting to go on an actual date with her for months, not just making out in the rec room. 

When he spoke, his voice was bland and monotone. "She's blaming it on working late. Meanwhile it looks like you're leaving early, so I'm not buying it." Then he laughed sardonically. "I was going to take her to a movie tonight, and then on Friday I was hoping Jeremiah could tag along on another date. I found a kid-friendly restaurant for dinner."

When you reached for his hand, he just shook his head. "Jake. Don't get upset with her, okay?"

He ran his hand through his hair as he walked away. "I need to get back to the hanger. Later, Angel."

You hated today. You wanted answers, and then you wanted to go to bed. And it annoyed you that you still wanted Bradley to read you to sleep from his notebook when he was the one who hadn't given you any details about his deployment, even though you had asked. Multiple times. 

When you pulled your car into the driveway, you realized Bradley wouldn't be home for at least an hour. You wanted to act normal about this and start making dinner or doing something productive, but you were starting to wonder if he was hiding information from you again, just like the sperm test results. And that was enough to make you lose your appetite. You hurried inside, and Tramp followed you to the couch where you sat and took some deep breaths. The realization that you should have just stayed on base and had a discussion with Dr. Genevieve washed over you, and you were afraid you were going to cry.

You wrapped your arms around Tramp and waited, and it actually didn't feel like too much time had passed when you heard the Bronco pull into the driveway. When the front door opened, Bradley looked surprised to see you.

"You're home," he said softly, closing the door behind him. When you just nodded and clung to Tramp, Bradley pressed his lips together. "I take it you heard about the....mishap?"

"Mishap?" you asked, finally scrambling to your feet as Tramp ran to Bradley. "That's what you're calling it? All I know is that I asked you all weekend to tell me about your deployment, but you didn't. And then today I got an email with your name and credentials listed underneath a docket number for two officers who are being court martialed."

Bradley bent to pet Tramp without taking his eyes off yours. "You're right. You did ask me several times, but Sweetheart, the weekend was so perfect. I didn't want to ruin it by talking about work."

You rubbed the heels of your hands against your eyes. "You were gone for eight weeks, Bradley. That's not the same as discussing a regular day at work. And clearly something absolutely insane happened! What are you trying to hide from me now?"

The rosy pink of his cheeks faded away as a look of pure panic filled his handsome features. "Nothing. There's nothing to hide. I just thought we'd talk about it today. I had no idea everything was going to blow up like it did."

You threw your hands up in the air, and you hated how shrill your voice sounded. "Is everything even okay?"

"Yes," he insisted, closing the distance to you and wrapping his arms around your body, enveloping you in his warmth. "Everyone who left the carrier deck made it back to the carrier deck."

Apparently you'd been holding your breath, because you were finally able to let it out. "Good," you whispered, burying your face in his neck. "That email made me feel physically sick."

"I'm sorry, Baby Girl," Bradley rasped next to your ear before kissing your temple. "If I knew everything was going to happen so fast, I would have taken some time out of the weekend to talk about it. But being back home with you and spending time as just us was really the only thing on my agenda."

You didn't stop him when he guided you toward the bedroom and started to unbutton and unzip you out of your uniform. And you let him pull his UVA shirt over your head and guide you into bed. And then you watched him strip down to his underwear before he picked up Tramp and climbed in with you. "Here's what happened," he said, pulling you close.

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

Bradley felt a little awkward detailing what went down in the air with Slayer for you. It was an odd thing to recount it to someone who wasn't an aviator, but you just held him tight and asked questions when you needed clarification. But the way you gasped when Bradley told you he was the spare made him feel somewhat validated. 

"The spare? This Admiral Dean asshole named you the spare?" You went shooting up in the bed, indignation flashing in your eyes as you pointed at him. "You're not the spare! You're the main event. You'd never treat a mission like it was your own little game where other people's lives didn't fucking count for anything!"

Bradley could tell he was blushing as he said, "Nat and Bob were directly in danger when I got called to the catapult." 

Now you were standing on your knees looking straight up furious. "What did you do?!"

He ran his hand along his mustache and whispered, "I just... dealt with it. I don't know. You know I don't like talking about air to air kills. Nat and Bob were leaking fuel to the point where I was convinced they wouldn't even make it out over the water before they had to eject. But Nat managed to land it on deck in spite of full engine failure."

"Full engine failure?!"

"Yes."

"And all of this happened because this Slayer person went way off course to attend his own rodeo or something?"

Bradley laughed in spite of himself. "Yes."

"Right. Right," you said, even though it sounded like you thought it was all very wrong. "And this Slayer child was allowed to be the fucking team leader because of Admiral Dean?"

"Yes."

You just shook your head at him, standing there on your knees with your hands on your hips. "A court-martial is too good for these fuckers," you said, your voice breaking as you lunged for him. 

Bradley caught you in his arms as you burst into tears. "Don't cry. Everyone is fine."

But you were shaking in his arms as you tightened your hold on him. "I could have lost you, Roo... and like, I just know there was at least a small part of you that thought I didn't want this."

He kissed your cheek and whispered, "I knew you loved me. I knew my ring was safe with you. That was enough."

You pulled away from where you'd had your face pressed to the side of his neck. Tears were welling up in your eyes before sliding down your cheeks. "No, that's not enough. I love you more than anything. And you deserve to hear me say that to you."

Bradley gently rolled you onto your back and let his cheek rest on your shoulder as you cried. He wrapped one arm around your middle and tried not to crush you with his weight as you threaded your fingers through his hair. It felt so good, the way you were touching him and crying for him. "I'm right here," he told you, and eventually your breathing evened out. 

"I can't believe spending the weekend in the bathtub with me was more important to you than getting all of that off your chest."

"Spending a weekend in the bathtub with you is more important than literally anything else I can think of," he promised, happy to hear you laugh. "But if we're being honest here, Sweetheart, when I got passed over for the mission and named as the spare instead... I'm having a really hard time coming to terms with the fact that I'm probably on the back end of my career as a pilot."

You were silent for a beat, but when you spoke, your fingers were still soft in his hair. "Who named the teams?"

"Admiral Dean."

"And have we not established that he's a mindless idiot who favors the aviators from Lemoore over everyone else?"

Bradley hadn't really considered that the hit to his ego and career should have been taken with a grain of salt. Perhaps there was something to be said for who was in charge of the mission details. "I'm still the oldest one around, compared to everyone at Top Gun and everyone from Lemoore," he murmured. 

"Older, sure," you whispered. "But you're also more experienced. And more patient. And smarter. And you were able to tolerate being named the spare without throwing a fit. You're not on the back end of your career. Maybe it will take a different shape, but it's not ending."

Without another word, Bradley fell asleep on you while he thought about what flying meant to him, your touch calming him enough to do that without panicking.

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

You were so hungry now that Bradley told you what had happened. Your stomach was starting to growl, and you realized that you hadn't actually started anything for dinner. But Bradley was still dozing on you an hour later, his arm heavy across your belly where you pressed your fingers to the ink of his tattoo. 

He must have been exhausted, dealing with all of this nonsense during his deployment and traveling across so many time zones. And yet he had made you feel so important all weekend, even attempting to make you breakfast. Giving you his undivided attention. Making love to you exactly how you needed it. 

When he eventually started to stir, you felt bad that you didn't have anything ready for him to eat. He looked up at you, slowly easing himself into a push up position above you. "Sorry...how long was I out?" he rasped, grunting as he bent his elbows until his lips met yours.

"More than an hour," you whispered as he kissed you over and over again. "You must be exhausted."

"Nah, I feel great," he promised, climbing out of bed and pulling you with him. "Want me to make you some toast?"

"Please don't. I was thinking of just ordering something since I didn't get anything ready to cook." You briefly thought about Cat and Bickel and wondered if they were still working right now.

"Let's get a pizza," Bradley said, grabbing his phone. "It's easy and Tramp loves when you feed him the crusts."

Later, when you sat down on Bradley's lap with a slice of pizza in your hand, you laughed as Tramp sat on the floor begging. You tore off a piece of the crust for him while Bradley inhaled two slices stacked one on top of the other. You were just about to ask him if he'd read some more of his notebook to you when he reached for a third piece. 

"Was thinking," he said between bites. "How about a bath before bed? And since you let me nap earlier, I could read until you fall asleep?"

You felt like you were on your honeymoon again where everything you did together just made sense. "You read my mind." And there was just something so good about his voice right now. Whether it was him sitting behind you in the tub or fucking you on the bathmat or leading you to the shower to get you cleaned up a second time, his voice in your ear was exactly what you needed. 

"We do some of our best work in the bathroom," he whispered, thrusting into you slowly as your towel unraveled from around you. 

"You say that about every room," you reminded him, letting him spread your legs wider as he nipped at your breasts. 

"Only because it's true, Sweetheart."

You giggled in the shower, because fifteen minutes ago you'd been clean and then he came inside you. But you were yawning non stop by the time you climbed back into bed. You could barely keep your eyes open as Bradley picked up his notebook and opened it to a page you hadn't heard him read yet. 

He wrapped one strong arm around you and cleared his throat. "Promise you won't get upset?" he asked you, holding the notebook just far enough away that you couldn't read it without your contacts or glasses.

"I mean, did you like write something really mean about me?" you asked, squinting. 

"No," he said with a laugh. "But it's a full page about all the shit I do that I hate."

"I won't get mad, but that doesn't mean I have to agree with any of it."

He responded by clearing his throat again and reading.

"I was never planning on being married to someone. That's exhausting, right? Way too much responsibility. What if they decide they hate you and leave one day? Or die of cancer? Or what if I burn in? What are you even supposed to do then? 

In an effort not to turn into either of my parents, I think I just gave up on the idea. My mom's engagement ring took up residence in a cardboard box in a storage unit for almost twenty years. I don't think I thought about it more than a handful of times, only occasionally remembering how pretty it looked when she wore it outside in the sunshine. 

And then I met a woman, and suddenly the fact that I didn't know the exact location of that ring was very unsettling to me. Was it in a box with photos, pushed all the way against the back wall? Was it in a smaller box with my dad's diploma from the Naval Academy? Which box was it in?

These thoughts alternated between being paramount to my very existence and also quite laughable. She wouldn't want to marry me. I'd only known her a few weeks. She was perfect. Beautiful. Funny. Smarter than everyone else. 

I second guessed myself even more than usual. And then the most peculiar thing happened. She accepted the ring right out of the cardboard box, and then she married me. 

But I haven't been good enough. 

And that is a fact that is worse than all my worst fears. It's worse than burning in. It's worse than dying of cancer. It's worse than being left behind. I can't stand the fact that she's too hard on herself because of me. That's fucked up. It makes me feel gross. I don't want a baby more than I want my wife. I just want my wife. I want her right now. I wanted her yesterday. I am going to want her tomorrow. 

But two weeks ago when I made her think I didn't, that was probably the worst thing I've ever done. Because it didn't even occur to me how much I was fucking up. Congratulations, you failed. Stop doing it. Be better. If you even get another chance."

When Bradley turned his head to see if you were still awake, you whispered, "I didn't like that page as much as the others."

"I figured you wouldn't." 

There were a million things you wanted to say to make him feel better. Share the blame for what happened. But he was proving to you that he had nothing to hide, and he was reading back his candid thoughts. And you never wanted him to stop. So you just kissed his neck and said, "Thanks for reading it to me. But now I want you to read my favorite page again." 

He flipped back to find it, and you were asleep after about five words. 

Your alarm for work came too early considering how cozy you felt in bed. If you could live in this moment a little longer, you gladly would. You felt warm and safe, and Bradley's first words of the day made you laugh. "I'll order you another overpriced coffee, but your new French press should be here today."

When you walked into the lab with your iced latte to find that Cat was the only person there, you gave her an awkward, "Good morning."

"Hi," she replied, stifling a yawn. She looked exhausted.

"How late were you here?" you asked her, feeling terrible that you weren't the one to put in all the extra hours. 

She eyed you hesitantly. "Pretty late. Bickel told me I could come in at lunchtime today, but I didn't want to leave you hanging out to dry with the proposals from Annapolis."

"Thanks," you whispered. But then your heart rate picked up a little bit as you thought about what happened to Bradley. You blurted out, "I need to know what was in that audio."

Cat was instantly shaking her head. "You can't listen to it. Bickel said he doesn't want your login credentials anywhere near it. Could be a massive conflict of interest if you handled it in any way."

You looked down at your boots. "What was it like?" 

She was silent for so long, you were afraid she wasn't going to tell you anything. When you turned toward your seat, she said, "It was hard to listen to. Your husband is a good person."

You kept your eyes on your workstation. "He didn't even tell me anything about it until last night."

"He didn't come running home from his deployment and tell you that he's actually a hero? Again? Bickel told me he seems to have a good head on his shoulders."

"No," you whispered, closing your eyes. "He came home and told me we'd talk about it later, because he missed me too much. And then he was good to me all weekend." Good was an understatement. But you did miss your French press.

"You know," Cat replied with a smile in her voice, "it is really hard not to hate you."

You turned to look at her over your shoulder. Maybe she figured you knew about Jake, and maybe she didn't, but you said, "You should reschedule your movie date."

The smile was gone from her face and her voice. "I think yesterday was a wakeup call. And canceling on Jake was probably in my best interest after all. I don't know what I was thinking when-"

"Stop making poor decisions," you snapped. "He found a kid-friendly restaurant, for fuck's sake. What more could you possibly want in a guy?"

"Nothing," she whispered. 

Then you plugged your computer in and said, "Thank you for telling me about the comms. And thank you for staying late. And thank you for not leaving me alone to finish the proposals today. But for the love of god, Cat, reschedule the movie, okay?"

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

Bradley was expecting you to meet him for lunch in the cafeteria. He even managed to secure the table where you and he were sitting the first time he asked you out. Which was just going to be the cherry on top of his plans for the day. 

Mav let him read the official court-martial documentation along with Nat and Bob. And then he had taken the time to write an official statement. And in about a month, he'd have to appear as a witness to what happened. The sad part was, it all seemed very cut and dry since this wasn't the first time Admiral Dean had shown unjust favoritism. Maybe you were on to something about why Bradley had been selected as the spare.

He heard your laugh before he saw you. It was that beautiful, overjoyed sound that was usually reserved just for him. In fact, he heard it last night when he had you underneath him on the bathroom floor, running his mustache along your pristine skin. But right now you had it aimed at his best friend, and he didn't really mind. You were hugging Nat like you were afraid she was going to vanish into thin air, and when you released her, Bradley watched you press a kiss to Bob's cheek before hugging him just as tight. Your cheek was pressed to Bob's chest when you met Bradley's gaze from a few tables away, and you smiled at him. Then you were headed his way.

"I got you a burrito bowl," he said, even though you could plainly see he had two on his tray. And instead of sitting down across from him, you took the chair right next to his and wrapped your hands around his bicep. 

"Roo, do you want to go up to the hot sauce restaurant after work on Friday? Maybe recreate our first date? But instead of me not giving you a handjob on the pier, I totally could."

Bradley's jaw dropped. You somehow read his mind. You took his idea about getting back to basics in your relationship and made it both romantic and also horny enough that he felt a little uncomfortable in his uniform pants. And you had the nerve to sit there and look sweet and innocent as you squeezed a little packet of hot sauce onto your lunch. 

"I was going to suggest the same thing," he rasped softly. "Minus the handjob. But I'm definitely down for the inclusion of the handjob."

You just smiled at him as you took a bite of your lunch, and your hand came to rest on his thigh. This was going to be a long week.

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

Need that first date reenactment to happen. And I love how the notebook has become a bedtime staple for them. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 16

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

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@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

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[ofstardustanddreaming]

a much needed pick me up

oneshot summary: (the request) when nanami picks up his firstborn girl from kindergarten, noticing she was kinda upset (him not knowing why), so he secretly thought of taking her out to a candy store, knowing that can cheer her up.

content warnings: none

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

character: kento nanami

female reader

anon request

a.n. - i'm sorry if this is a bit rough, i don't often write parent fics, but i hope this was okay!

Today, you were entrusting Nanami to pick up your daughter from school. You had some errands of your own to run, and you knew you wouldn't be able to pick her up like you typically would. You felt bad, but Nanami understood that your life was busy too. And it's been a while since he's picked her up, something he misses doing.

When he arrived at the school, he was checking his phone to see how early he was, but pleasantly surprised that he was there right on time. The children were being let out, and he kept a close eye out for his daughter.

He saw her running towards him, a warm smile taking a hold on his face as she came running towards him. He lowered himself to her level, pulling her in for the hug that she was wanting. He felt his heart cave in when he felt tears hitting his neck though, not wanting his daughter to feel sad.

"Missed you." She says into his neck, and his heart melts.

"Yeah, I missed you too. Did you learn anything in school?" He asks, trying to ease into a conversation about what might have happened to make her cry. She shakes her head against his neck as he starts to stand up from his position. He feels disheartened, unsure how to help his daughter.

He puts her in her car seat in the back, hesitating a moment, not wanting to get in the driver's seat yet.

"You okay, bug?" He asks, wiping a tear from her cheek. She shakes her head begrudgingly, not wanting to speak. "Did you want to talk about it?" She shakes her head again, and his mouth turns downward. He drops the subject, a little bit at a loss. She's never really had a bad day before, and might have trouble regulating emotions. He just wants to help, but isn't quite sure what to do at the step where she doesn't want to talk. He'd have to consult you for help.

But he knew of something that could brighten her day a little bit. There's a candy shop that's on the way to the park that you, Nanami, and your child frequent to let her play, and she often looks at the window excitedly, as often kids do, and points with some pleading to go in. You have been in there once to let her pick something out, but don't want to build the habit of constantly eating sweets. But Nanami thinks right now is an exception to the rule.

Your daughter doesn't really have a sense of direction at that age, so it really was surprising to her when Nanami pulled into an area she didn't recognize initially. But when she saw the walking path that you guys took to the park, she immediately perked up. She looked up hopeful at her dad, and he gave her a smirk.

"Come on, let's go to the candy store. I'll let you pick out a few things." He says, grabbing her by the hand to make sure she doesn't run off to far to get injured. Her excited shouts of glee made his heart warm up, glad to know his daughter was feeling a little bit better. He knows it isn't a permanent fix, but even for a tiny while he wants to see her mood improved.

When they had entered the shop, the jingling of the bells had signaled their entrance. He was hit by the smell of sweet candy, getting easily enticed himself to pick up some candy. His daughter took off, running to some of her favorite picks of candy, and some new ones she wanted to try. He gave a soft call of "careful" after her, keeping an eye on her as he picked some candy out for himself. He was also looking for some of your favorite candy as well, knowing exactly which ones you loved.

He walked towards the counter, making idle chat with the worker there since there weren't that many customers in the store, and he waited for his daughter. The worker giggled at her excitement, seeing how your daughter ran around as if she was on a sugar rush herself. She eventually moves up to the counter, holding up her goods to Nanami. She looks nervous, thinking she had grabbed to many sweets for him to agree too, but he takes what she had grabbed at puts them on the counter.

The cashier rings him up and he takes the bag in one hand when she presents it to him, where he then picks his daughter up with his other hand when she holds her hands up and asks to be held. It was a quick walk back to the car, and an even quicker back to the house, yet it felt elongated by the fact his daughter was back to being sullen. He was worried and wanted your input on how to help.

"Go see your mother." He says as he ushers your daughter through the door, and he feels his heart warm to hear her slight giggle as you excitedly greet her, the smell of dinner wafting through.

"How was school today?" Was the magic question from you, which causes her to burst into tears as she runs to her room. It leaves you befuddled, and you walk to the door entry where it's hidden from the kitchen, to see if Nanami knew why she was upset. He shrugs as he comes over to you to hug and kiss you.

"She was upset after school, she wouldn't say why. I stopped by the candy store to see if it could cheer her up at all, and she was happy. For a little bit at least." He catches you up, stating he'd hope you might know why if the school had called home to say why she might be crying.

You put down your cooking utensils, ushering Nanami towards your daughter's door as you both plan to figure out what the problem was. You both sat on the bed that she was on, curious as to what the issue could be. You pull your daughter up, pulling her into your side to comfort her.

"What's up bug? Bad day at school?" You ask her, and she looks up at you tearfully.

"I just miss you guys." She says, sniffling through the sentence. And you realize what this might be about as you make eye contact with Nanami, who was realizing it himself.

"Oh I see. We haven't had the chance to all hang together. We can change that though. I'm sorry bug, we've been busy with work, and you've had school. But we can change that now, where we can go to the park tomorrow if you'd like. And I know you got candy today, but maybe tomorrow we can go again. At least one more time. I know that's your favorite place." You tell her, and she slowly starts to beam.

"Really?" She asks softly, and you nod, while Nanami picks her up.

"Of course." He replies, which causes her to smile more. "I can always call off some evening shifts, we have been pretty busy lately. I'm sorry you've felt this way bug, and thank you for telling us. We'll always make time for you." He says smiling down at her, and over at you. Maybe the candy store will be the new spot to create happiness.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Southern Stars: A not so great start.

Faust's shine brightly in the sky being gazed upon people. Seth has always kept to himself, but the light the Star gave he couldn't help but go to it. The story of two very different individuals. OG post that had Seth x Faust story guide I'm using For my moot @itsargyle

"You will be given a body guard. I've already picked him out." Words hung in the air as the two brothers had a conversation. But it felt really one-sided because of Faust scowling at the red head. Causing the older man to sigh as rub the bridge of his nose.

The bluenette looked down at the ground, there was a small voice saying Auron was only looking out for him. But another part didn't want him taking more control, Faust can handle himself! But he can't help but admit that the stalkers have been getting more prominent.

"Cool, amazing even!" Fake excitement slipped out as Faust looked back at his step brother. "So.....what's the guys name?" Questioning since he's going to have to live with the guy for a while.

A knock echoed through Auron's office, said red head nodded to the door. Before Faust could ask again his step brother opened his mouth.

"Come in." Granting the person who knocked entry. The door opened showing a tall, tan, brunette man, wearing a cream faux fur and dark brown jacket. With a neutral face and greeted the two with a wave.

"Hi, I'm Seth, here for the security job?" A southern accent filed the room. With a groan Faust turns his head and the bluenette pauses seeing this man.

Faust felt his face warm a bit seeing how the southern man's body was built like. God Faust wanted this man to crush him with those big arms that are being contained in that jacket.

"-st? Faust. This is Seth, he will be your temporary security guard until I can get you a permanent one." Words quickly shattered the hearts around Faust. So clearing his throat he put on his best fake smile.

"Good to know your at least hot." Sarcastic words hung in the air, Faust regretting them slipping out. Seth blinked at him and sighed holding out his hand to shake Faust's. Great, he's stuck with a nepo baby.

"....Nice to meet you, Faust." Simply saying, and then turned to Auron who gave him a nod. Standing in front of Auron, Seth was told Faust's scheduled and anything else what he needs to know.

"You will live with him, so please get along." Sighing Auron then handed Seth all the papers he needs. Then told him Trish would give him his ear wire to the other security guards and the gun he will be carrying to protect Faust. Finishing the small meeting, both the brunette and bluenette walked out of Auron's office.

"Since you have nothing else to do today, do you want to go home? I'll call that uh....whats the word?.....Chauffeur?" Mumbling the last part, causing Faust to snort at him. Seth threw a small glare before taking out his phone and calling the driver. Standing by Faust as he sat down on a chair in the lounge of the office building.

Playing on his phone Faust sighed as Seth said nothing after finishing the phone call. Is he going to be this boring the whole time he lives with the streamer? Hearing a ping of a phone Seth checked his and then turned to Faust.

"The driver's out front. Do you have all your things?" Asking the shorter man, who nodded. The brunette nodded back and walked behind Faust as he left through the revolving door of Auron's office building. Little did both know, Auron was watching from his office sighing as he wondered if Faust will run this one away too.

Opening the limo's door Seth helped Faust in and closed the door gently. Checking around the brunette then went into the passenger's seat telling the driver to go to Faust's apartment.

That day, the two didn't know was the start of a very interesting few months. After getting situated into Faust's apartment complex, Seth made a few changes in Faust's apartment.

First, making sure Faust had a weapon in his room hidden where he knows it will be. Second, hidden security camera's in the apartment, along with a security system that was broken into a few months ago. Third, locks changed for the front door and added to the windows because of the fire escape.

Faust was a bit mad at a few of these but gave up after the second one. The streamer saw how Seth was taking this job seriously, it was kinda comforting for him.

Faust in turn told Seth how he won't go easy on him, giving the buffer man tasks to do. Get food, merch, and so much more that Faust needed right this second. Seth, in his defense took all of it in stride but there is so much someone can take from being treated as a errand boy.

Slamming the fast food Faust wanted, instead of the food Seth made for him. Opening his mouth to complain about Seth wanting to ruin his food, but shut it seeing the angry glare the taller man had.

"I accepted this job to protect you as a security guard. Not to be some fucking brat's errand boy. Either fix your fucking attitude or I go to your brother and fucking quit this second." Spitting out Seth then turned and stalked out of the streamer's room. Who blinked seeing how Seth clocked him, looking at the junk food he made Seth get Faust felt guilt rise in his throat.

It's not like he tried being a asshole to Seth, it was just thinking your body guard is hot isn't good. So if he made him go do things they won't get close, so that Faust won't get false hope that Seth would want him too. Sucking in a breath Faust got up and cleaned off invisible dust, then walking out of his room to where Seth was watching TV.

Seeing Seth on the far right side on the couch, Faust sat on the left. He saw in the corner of his eye Seth sighing and keeping his eyes on the TV. Twittling with this finger's Faust opened his mouth to speak, it was low but he meant it.

"I'm sorry...." The TV was paused at those words. Faust looked down and felt his face flush again, just like when he first meet the southern hunk. "I....I know I'm difficult. I won't lie I was angry at Auron basically giving me a babysitter....I shouldn't have taken it out on you, making you do so many impossible things that couldn't get done...."

Whispering out in the quietness of the living room. Faust waited as he looked at Seth not knowing if he'd even accept the apology. The brunette leaned back and sighed loudly before turning to Faust.

"Good to know you can admit when your wrong. Though you'd rather bite your tongue off before doing that." Chuckling that out as he began laughing. Faust blinked hearing the laughter of the southern man, the bluenette began giggling along. Wondering to himself how he was a brat to this man?

From that moment forward, both had a understanding with each other.

[bb-olicity]

On An Island Alone

It’s been 3 weeks since Chenford’s breakup and I feel like I’m on an island… alone.  The day after 6x06 aired, I made the decision to walk away from The Rookie. Well, at least until after the finale. I’ll decide if I'm walking away permanently once I check online and see how the season ended.  And before I go any further, to anyone who wants to say I'm not a true Rookie and (most importantly) Chenford fan: I have just as much right to stop watching the show as you do to keep watching it.

So why am I choosing to no longer watch the show?

The main reason I started watching the show in the first place is/was Chenford and I can’t sit there and watch them redo Seasons 4 and 5A and I won’t. Especially considering the fact we already know from Eric’s comments to TVLine they’re not getting back together by the end of the season finale.  I do not see them getting back together until at least the midseason finale next season.  Actually, if I’m being completely honest, I’m not sure they will get back together or if they even should.  I know me saying that will make a lot of people mad, but after reading Melissa and Eric’s post-episode interviews, I got a sense of finality when they were talking about Tim and Lucy’s relationship as a couple and the breakup.  Plus, I honestly don’t see how they can come back from what they did, which leads into the other reason why I’m not watching anymore.

Tim’s whole storyline rubs me the wrong way in so many ways.  They could’ve brought in his military past in so many other ways and still had him struggle without destroying his character in the process.  As it is, the storyline feels extremely forced just to cause drama for the sake of drama and, for me, irredeemably destroyed Tim’s character.  They completely erased 5 ½ seasons of character growth in the matter of only 1 ½ episodes.  And I'll never be able to see Tim the same way again, even if he goes to therapy.  I personally would never be able to trust him again and I honestly don’t see how Lucy could either.  That’s also why part of me feels like they should not get back together. Yes, I know it’s a short season and everything is condensed, but Alexi and the writers should not have done the storyline this late in the season, knowing they would not be able to do it justice with only 4 episodes left and not knowing the show’s fate by the time they finished filming the finale.  Since they were planning to break them up, I feel like they should’ve done it at the end of the premiere or by 6x03. That way there would’ve been time for Tim and Lucy to work through their struggles individually then work them as a couple by the end of the season.

Why do I feel like I’m on an island alone?

After the episode aired, a lot of the fandom was angry and a good number said they were done to show.  However, over the last few weeks, I’ve noticed that number dwindling and a lot fans are now justifying the breakup who weren’t before and they have absolutely every right to.  I can see where they’re coming from, to a certain extent.  Tim and Lucy both were hiding things from each other since they started dating and would just gloss over things that needed deep and meaningful conversations to work them out.  That said, I personally will never agree with the breakup or the whole (Tim’s) storyline and will always maintain the breakup was completely unnecessary and they could’ve (and should’ve) stayed together and worked through their struggles as a couple.  So yeah, I’m on an island alone… and that’s okay.