#and she just stares at the ceiling quietly for like 5 hours

[kraviolis]

IN THE COVEN DAY PARADE EPISODE. terra says to luz “the emperor says he’s looking forward to meeting you, human.” i just realized it didn’t mean belos and luz meeting, because they already had back in the season 1 finale. He Was Fucking Talking About The Literal Next Episode Where PHILIP Meets Luz. Oh My GOD.

[luvrxbunny]

late night talking

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader 

Prompt: Phone Sex

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mutual masturbation  (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.5k

A/N: GUYS IM SORRY I'VE BEEN LATE I SWEAR IM TRYING (not proofread *sobbing*)

It’s around 1 AM when Eddie stumbles in, he’s high and just a teensy bit drunk. He has a stupid smile on his face because he’s expecting to see you nice and cozy in his bed. He walks into his room and is sobered by your absence, he speed walks quietly down the hall, making a beeline for the phone hanging off the wall. He’s thinking to himself as he puts your number in, trying to figure out why you aren’t here.

Was she taken? I bet it was Harrington, that motherfucker always wanted her. Dude can’t handle the fact she chose me.

Eddie has a prideful smile on his face as your phone rings. You pick up almost immediately. “Eddie? Are you okay?” His whole body relaxes at the sound of your voice, but… if you’re okay- seeming very un-stolen by Steve Harrington, then why weren’t you here? Sadness creeps into his chest. “Where are you?” He asks, voice completely deflated. He hears some shuffling before you answer him.

“I’m at my house, Eddie. Are you okay?” You ask him again with more force this time and he starts nodding before realizing you can’t see him. “Yeah. I’m okay… Why aren’t you here?” He sounds like he could cry- and he totally could. He gets more emotional when he drinks, and pairing that with the sensitivity he gets when he’s high you’re left with a crossfaded bundle of need and intimacy. 

You’d told Eddie that you wouldn’t be sleeping over at his place today, you guys’ midterms were starting tomorrow and you needed a good night’s sleep to not stress over them while testing. It’s not that you don’t sleep well with Eddie, it’s just that you guys can’t help but do a little more than sleep whenever you’re together. 

“Baby…” You start slowly, using that tone that Eddie loves. You’re talking to him like you’re breaking the news to a child that Santa isn’t real, full of pity, sadness, and love. It makes him all tingly inside. “I told you that I wouldn’t be there tonight.” He gasps softly into the receiver as the memory pops back into his head. “Remember..? I told you we have testing tomorrow and we both need to sleep. What are you even doing up this late? Did you just get home?!”

His spine straightens as your voice picks up, realizing that yes, he did just get home. Although he never confirms or denies, his silence is your answer. He hears you sigh into the phone and he slumps forward, disappointed in himself for not listening to you but then he realizes something. “Well, what are you doing up? You answered pretty fast, darling.” It’s your turn to go silent now. 

As previously mentioned, you and Eddie both have impressively high libidos, so every night you guys would be doing something, anything to get the other off. You stayed away from Eddie’s tonight so you could get some sleep instead of doing that. Unfortunately, it’s seemed to make its way into your routine so you’ve been fighting the urge for hours, unable to sleep a wink because of the incessant, hot, buzzing between your legs. Your body was begging for him, you’d tried to get yourself off for about 5 minutes before giving up. It just wasn’t as intense as when it’s Eddie’s hands on you, your body just wouldn't respond to you the same way. So you’ve been staring at your ceiling, praying for sleep to take you, and then Eddie called.

“Um…” He smiles, holding back a laugh as you try and figure out your answer. “I just miss you.” The message is sweet and heart-warming but you dropped your voice to that whisper you get when you need him. When he’s just practicing some chords and you don’t know how to ask him to take care of you. When you work your way over and tell him you ‘need his help’... you’re using that voice and he’s already getting hard. 

“Yeah? You miss me, baby?” His head looks both ways down the hallway as his hand comes to the front of his jeans, massaging his rapidly growing cock. “What do you mean? What do you miss, honey?” You’re squirming in bed, in Eddie’s t-shirt, and very ready for where this conversation is headed. Your hand has already made its way between your legs, rubbing yourself gently through your underwear as Eddie questions you. 

“I miss everything about you, Eddie.” You stick your hand into your panties, gathering some wetness to spread over your clit before pulling your hand out and rubbing yourself over your underwear. Eddie’s on the same wavelength as you, his hand now fully inside his boxers, teasing his leaking tip. He can hear your breathing quiver and his eyes roll back into his head. The fact that even though you’re both so far apart, you’re perfectly in sync. “Tell me about it, baby.” 

You whimper into his ear. “Eddie… Are you touching yourself?” His knees almost give out and he has to turn around so he can lean against the wall. His hand wraps around his cock and pulls up slowly as his eyes close, picturing you. “Yes.” You’re so silent that he thinks he answered wrong somehow and his hand stops. He’s waiting, listening- maybe you fell asleep. Then he hears it, the subtle whine in your breath and a slick noise behind the static of the phone. 

His hand moves again, stiffly in order to keep the phone perfectly placed on his ear to hear your noises. “Fuck, are- Are you touching yourself, love?” You moan his name into the receiver and slide your hand back into your pants, stuffing two fingers into your soaking pussy and whining to Eddie about how good it feels. You lay back onto your pillows, pulling the phone with you, and imagine that Eddie’s above you, that it’s his fingers stretching you out and pressing into your G-Spot. As if he can read your mind, Eddie prompts you. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking, baby. You’re real quiet over there, give me something to work with, love” You giggle lightly at his request and he groans in your ear, his hand squeezing around his cock as it pulses at the sound. “What? The thought of me isn’t enough?” He doubles his pace and shakes his head at no one. “Not when I’ve had the real thing f- for so long.” His words come out as a raspy whine, almost a sob as he continues. “How could you take her away from me?” You’re aroused yet confused at his words, you listen to him moan a bit before questioning him. “What- Eddie, who-” He cuts you off with a hushed sob. “Your pussy- need her so bad.” Your teeth tear into your bottom lip as moans try to fight their way out of your mouth. 

Eddie’s moaning about all the things he’s going to do to you and you can see them all perfectly, you can hear the truth in his voice, in everything he says. He’s whispering into the phone, making the whole ordeal even hotter. You had never stopped to actually think about why though, you pictured him in his bed, hand down his pants and legs spread for you. You’ve caught him like that before and the image plagues you constantly- but Eddie doesn’t have a phone in his room… 

Your pussy clenches onto your fingers as the image in your head shifts. Your head is now depicting Eddie as he truly is, back against the wall, phone in one hand and his other is shoved down his pants, moving wildly under the denim. You can’t hold in the moan that arises at the realization. “Eddie- Fuck, baby are you in your hallway?” He groans out a whimper into the phone and his cock begins to throb, his brain clouding over with thoughts of you, everything you guys have done, everything he wants to do, and everything you’d let him do. “Needed you.” That’s all he can get out before he’s giving you his little hushed sounds. You can feel yourself winding up, and the fire in your stomach begins to spread throughout your body. You’re gushing around your fingers as you listen to Eddie. You can tell he’s getting close, right on the edge and you want nothing more than to push him over.

“M’ gonna cum, Eddie. I-” You’re cut off by your whines as your hand leaves the receiver, using it to rub your clit, desperately working yourself closer to the edge. “Tried earlier but- I don’t feel like y-yo-” Your eyes roll back, your thighs shake and you try your best to hold all your sounds in but little whimpers make their way through the phone as your orgasm racks through you. You hear Eddie moan- probably louder than he should and a loud commotion. Your eyes are shut as you come down and you can hear Eddie moaning- then cursing- in the distance. 

You pry your eyes open and grab the phone again. “Eds?” He grunts out a few more curses and some chuckles before answering. “H-hey, sweetheart. I’m okay I-” He laughs at himself again, bringing a smile to your face with the sound. “I- My knees gave out. I fell” He sounds adorably embarrassed as you laugh at him He giggles along timidly and you assure him that it’s cute until you both fall asleep. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[petriwriting]

Bad Ideas - Theodore Nott X Reader

Based on "Bad Idea Right?" By Olivia Rodrigo.

Summary: Y/n and Theodore run into each other at a slytherin party, but its a bad idea right?

A/N: Ex Boyfriend!Theo X Reader. meant to be light-hearted and fun, Y/N is in slytherin for this one. Not proofread. written on my balcony in about an hour.

Slytherin parties were always so much more than they needed to be. Maybe it was because rich kids love to party, Y/N thought. Most of slytherin house was full of old prestigious pureblooded families, and yes, they did in fact love to party. especially after a quidditch match they won against gryffindor by barely any points. It was a rough game.

The music was loud, and Y/n was already tipsy. It was a night to have fun, dance and solicalize. Pansy Parkinson accompanied y/n, just as drunk if not more. She was going on and on about some gossip she heard in the halls about some poor students sex life. None of Pansy's business, but she liked to gossip. Pansy went on, and Y/N was enjoying hearing the music and listening to pansy's story.

That is when Y/n locked eyes with none other than Mr. Theodore Nott himself. He was by himself, unusual for him at parties considering he usually had his friends surrounding him like a pack of wolves. He was smoking a cigarette, in the corner. Y/N quickly looked away, catching pansy's attention. "What is up with you?" She asked. Y/N shrugged. "its nothing." they said. "Obviously its something!" Pansy plead. "Okay okay." Y/N sighs, knowing they may get backlash for saying anything. "I saw theo." Y/N said blatantly. "No way he's here?" Pansy said, it didn't make sense since he usually frequented parties but she was pretty drunk. "Oh Merlin, you've got to stop being so hung up on him all the time" She exclaimed. "I am not!!" Y/n defended. "its a bad idea, you've been broken up, back together, on break and broken up again. you haven't seen him in like," Pansy begins to count on her fingers, with a hiccup. "4, N0-5 months." Y/n rolls their eyes. "Look it doesn't matter. like you said, its not a good idea right now.. I'll just pretend he's not here!" they offered.

Pansy was clearly over it, drunk enough to not care but not so drunk that she was slurring her words... yet. Pansy gasped, "Dray! i've got news!" she exclaimed, refffering to Draco who had just entered from acorss to room. Just like that Y/N was alone as they watched pansy walk quickly over to her blonde friend.

All alone... Until.

"Hey." Theodore's voice is soft, smooth for a smoker. He appeared out of nowhere. "Hi." Y/n says. "It's good to see you again." Theodore says, the air is thick. there's tension. "yeah you too." some old and unresolved feelings are starting to resurface between the two. Awkward silence. "Hey- sorry- this is so direct can we go back to your room?" Theodore says. Y/N reluctantly agrees.

In Y/N's room, its awkward. But it feels different. "Why did you want to come up here?" Y/N asks. "Because I miss you." Theo admits. he smells like whiskey and cigarettes. "I'm sorry." Y/N says. "don't be it isn't your fault I miss you. I just do." This gives Y/N a warm fuzzy feeling. "I miss you too, you know." Y/N says quietly. Theodore is now closer, staring at their lips in a sort of sad way, he was yearning. after a moment, their lips embraced.

[Insert your favorite smut here]

It's the following morning. The two are laying in bed, next to one another. Its warm, and it feels safe. When Y/N wakes, theo is already awake, laying on his back staring up at the ceiling. Y/N gets a good study of the side of his face. Its silent. Y/N looks at the ceiling, matching theo's body language. the silence is just deafening. Its an awkward and desperate moment of vulnerability for both of them.

"I still love you." Theodore says.

[stanfordswifey]

"I'll be here for you, my love"

Ford Pines x reader

You've been in the hospital for 5 years straight, your cancer developing and spreading. The tumor you had ignored had now developed and evolved, spreading to your organs, causing your stage 1 liver tumor to evolve into stage 4 metastasis.

Just yesterday the doctor walked into your room quietly, it was unusual. She had some news to break to you. "I'm afraid you only have a couple more days left. I've told you this before but its any time now, i'm sorry." You smiled at her, noticing the tear falling down her cheek and frown mentally, keeping a fake strong facade. "It's not your fault. I'm glad you tried your.best and never gavs up on me." Your hand curls into a ball under the sheet, doing your best to sray strong. The doctor left soon after, leaving you alone in the room with only your thoughts, your brain wandered 'will i tell ford?' 'Will he be okay?' 'I hope he's going to be fine without me'

You stared mindlessly at the ceiling, thoughts and memories rolling around in your mind like a film for a movie, you curse at the solidarity of your life, eventually falling asleep. You felt pathetic, worthless even, knowing that your husband too busy to even worry about you.

(You eventually fall asleep and wake up the next day)

It was another dreary day at the hospital, the sight of white boring walls and minimalistic decor making you lose your sanity by the minute, not having anything to suppress the agonizing pain you felt in your body.

-ford's pov-

"It has been a while since I last visited them at the hospital"

He murmurs, to no one but himself.

You've been gone for so long, off he visited you time to time, but ultimately focusing on the portal more and more to distract himself from worrying about you too much.

As he was working on his portal, his phone suddenly rang, causing him to jump at the sudden sound, rolling his eyes as he pushes himself away from the table (yk those chairs w wheels he basically just rolled over to the phone LMAO).

He accepts the call, ruffling his hair in frustration.

"Ford Pines here, who is this?"

"Ah, sorry, I'm doctor may here, what is your relationship to (reader)?"

He hums, fidgeting with a machine part with his fingers

"I'm their fiancé, what's wrong?"

The doctor clears her throat on the other line,

"I'm sorry to tell you, their tumor has started to spread to numerous other organs, I fear they don't have much time left.."

Ford feels his stomach drop, his hand loosening.

".."

"I suggest you get them out of the hospital and just spend time together, I'm afraid there isn't much we can do now. It's best to spend time while they're still here"

"..I see, thank you doctor."

The call ended, he immediately drops his phone and covers his face with his hands, tears falling down. They really couldn't do anything now. He didn't know what to do.

That night he spent his time sobbing, thinking of ways to help you, looking for a cure, a remedy, anything to help you, he failed miserably.

After a couple hours of thinking it over and breaking down he decided to pick you up from the hospital and spend time together, if you couldn't be there for the entirety of his life, atleast he'd be there for yours.

A/N

Hi hi!! This was shitty! I havent written anything for a while T~T please do send me some ideas/requests or if I did anything wrong plz do comment it down, also English isn't my first language so It's not perfect, this will be like 2 or 3 parts? I dont know yet but I will update :33 thank you again for reading <33

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 6

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |-| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18

AO3

Summary: In the wake of a tragic mission and the loss of a friend, Frankie is ordered to spend some time at Coombe House to recover her strength

Warnings: Language, Frankie's potential drinking problem

Word Count: 4.3k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

George's forehead pressed against the place where Frankie's neck met her back, warm air blowing down the back of her pyjama shirt whenever she breathed. Their hair was a tangled mess of brown and blonde, bodies struggling for space upon the narrow mattress. Whenever one moved, the other instinctively placed a foot down on the cold floor to brace themself from rolling off completely. The beds were narrow enough with only one sleeper, but the extra body made it almost impossible to lie comfortably, the mattress springs and metal bedframe digging in at awkward angles. And yet it seemed the only way they could truly rest, the steady breathing of the other a reminder that not all was lost.

"Why do we love them, George?" Frankie asked quietly, picking at a crack in her fingernail. "When we know they might not come back."

George lifted her head off the pillow, craning to look over at Frankie as she scooped the hair out of her face. "Because we're like that. You and me, we love people so fast that we forget to think about the bad parts," Frankie sighed, rolling over to look at her as a frown creased George's brow. "Frankie, I don't talk to pilots anymore. I barely even go near them, I'm too scared of what will happen if I start caring again. I don't want you to have to live like that."

Frankie shook her head slightly. "Well, it was different with Bucky and me - we're friends, but it's not like what you and Curt had."

"Frankie..."

"What?"

"I'm not talking about Bucky."

She was silent for a moment, considering this. The bedsheets rustled noisily as she sat up, staring at the wall opposite, feeling George's gaze on the back of her head as she spoke. "He pulled through when no one else did - his was the only plane that came back, that's gotta mean something. Like... like he's better than the others."

It's about luck, not skill. She knew they were both thinking it. George would never say it, would never taunt her with that possibility, but they both knew it could happen. Rosie could go up one day and simply never come back down. Just like Cleven. Just like DeMarco. Just like Bubbles. Just like Bucky.

"I start work in an hour," Frankie muttered, almost flinching as her bare feet touched the cold floor as she got up out of bed, tip-toeing across the room towards the bathroom. George sighed and went back to staring at the ceiling.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A pencil hung from between Frankie's teeth as she rummaged through the supplies that littered the mechanics' Nissen hut. In the last few days, the constant back-to-back missions had taken priority over keeping any sense of order, and the place had descended into chaos, everything tossed in at random without rhyme or reason. She was wrestling with a stack of sheet metal as the door creaked open, another figure entering the room. Frankie was scarcely alone in here, so the intrusion caused no alarm - until her visitor spoke.

"Serge?"

Looking up from her work, her brow arched in confusion, plucking the pencil out from her mouth. "Colonel?"

Colonel Harding stood at the end of the shelves, hands folded politely behind his back. When it looked like she was about to drop the metal, he stepped forward, helping her to steady the unwieldy sheets as she uttered her thanks, slotting them away on the correct shelf.

"Sergeant, have you considered taking some time off?"

Frankie frowned, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she shrugged. "I'm too busy for that."

Harding nodded slowly. "That does seem to be the gist of the problem. Rosenthal has informed me that you were very close with Major Egan," At the mention of Bucky's name, her shoulders tensed. "He's also told me that you've been extremely overworked lately. We both feel that some time away from Thorpe Abbotts could do you some good - make sure you can keep up your excellent work."

She paused for a long moment, mind racing a mile a minute. Had Rosie really gone behind her back? Told the Colonel, of all people, about what was going on?

"No. I'm good," She shook her head, turning away as she wandered down to the other end of the shelves to continue tidying. When she looked up, the Colonel was standing on the other side, looking at her through the wooden slats.

"It wasn't a request, Sergeant."

Frankie had been forced into a corner. And Rosie had made it happen.

"... Bugger."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The driver had dropped her off at the top of the long driveway, Coombe House looming large as she dug her heels into the gravel, carrying nothing but a battered suitcase and a raggedy old satchel. It felt like she had been dropped off in some garden of Eden, some fantasy world so far removed from her own that it was practically a different dimension. The first thing she noticed was the smell - rosebushes, freshly trimmed grass, not so much as a whiff of engine oil, the scent that had clouded her nostrils for years. Frankie tried counting the windows, but lost track somewhere around thirty, at which point she realised she'd done nothing but stand and stare for several minutes.

"You nervous?" Rosie asked, suddenly at her side. She hadn't noticed him approach, hadn't heard his footsteps against the pebbles. Hadn't noticed the way he'd stopped to take a long look at her in her dress uniform - a far cry from the coveralls he'd only ever seen her in before. Her hair was curled, her nails scrubbed of any dirt. She looked good.

Frankie shrugged. "Just a general aversion to the English upper class."

It took her a moment to realise who she was talking to. But when she did, she turned to glare at him, brow arched in equal parts question and judgment. "Did you tell Colonel Harding I was verging on a mental breakdown or some shit?"

He blinked. "I said you were tired. Sad."

She scoffed, handing him her bags without invitation. "Don't tell the Colonel I'm sad, he was lookin' at me like I was a nutcase."

Rosie chuckled, buckling slightly under the sudden weight of her luggage. "Well, I'm glad you could join us, if that's any consolation."

Frankie hummed, nodding slowly. "S'pose it'll have to do."

The Riveters had only arrived that morning, her appearance following by no more than a few hours, but already it seemed the flight crew was settling nicely. All except for Rosie, that was, who twitched like an anxious puppy, as if some magnetic force were repelling him from the doors of the building.

"I told them you're here. They wanted to roll out the full welcome mat, but I said you'd prefer it if I showed you around - keep it quiet, n'all."

She eyed him sideways. "I'm not sure there's anyone left that you haven't managed to convince I'm insane."

A teasing glint shone in his eye. "Well, if you want, I can call down the butler and-"

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Frankie uttered, rolling her eyes at the mere concept. She trailed beside him as he led her down the hall, eyeing the furnishing with a constant air of distaste. "Why do they need so many lamps?"

Rosie grinned, pausing to wait for her at the foot of the stairs as she stopped to examine a huge, ornamental clock, her expression distorted in judgment. "You've never been in one of these big houses, have you?"

Taking off her uniform cap, she wagged it at him scoldingly. "My entire house has four windows - I think they have more in the fucking toilets here."

"Wow, you're like a total reverse snob."

He had begun to climb the staircase, footsteps muffled by the runner as Frankie made to follow, taking the steps two at a time as she swiftly caught up. The door to her room was directly opposite his, and Rosie couldn't help but wonder if it had been a coincidence as he propped it open with his foot, unloading her bags onto the carpet. The walls were painted a pale yellow, French windows opening out onto a narrow balcony, watercolour landscape paintings and antique furniture filling the space. Frankie felt predisposed to hate it, but couldn't quite bring herself to say a harsh word.

"I'll leave you to it," He nodded, beginning to back out through the doorway.

"Thanks. Oh, wait," She called, halting him in his tracks. "Is there a phone somewhere?"

"Downstairs, I think."

Once she was alone, the door closing behind her with a gentle click, Frankie shrugged off her uniform jacket, tossing it over the back of a nearby chair before she fell back against the bed, the springs creaking beneath her weight. It was a far cry from the beds at Thorpe Abbotts, and by god was that a good thing. If it hadn't been the middle of the day, she probably would have gone to sleep right there and then, burrowing beneath the soft duvet, enveloping herself in the warmth. Her father had never been able to afford holidays or hotels, and she was quite certain she'd never stepped foot anywhere as nice as this. And to think they were simply giving her the week? She couldn't help but grin.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A few hours had passed since Rosie had left Frankie in her room, and he was emerging from Doctor Huston's office, a disgruntled frown painting his features as he fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt. He was glad Frankie was here - glad the Colonel had listened to him, glad she might finally get a full night's sleep - but he wanted out. Almost desperately so. If the guilt wasn't tugging at him he might have loved to spend this time out here with her, but he couldn't tear his mind away from the mission at hand, from the pilots he'd left behind.

Muffled speaking caught his ear as he passed through the halls, tearing him from his thoughts as he recognised the voice. Rosie peered around the corner and spied Frankie by the phone, holding the receiver to her ear. The wire was stretched across the width of the corridor as she stood in front of one of the many bust statues, examining its features as she chatted away with whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, put her on... Hello m'love! How's things?... Yeah? Oh good," Rosie was leaning against the wall, and she suddenly spotted him lurking, waving to him and pulling a face to match the disgruntled expression of the statue beside her. He chuckled as she continued to speak. "Yeah? Well, I hope you're givin' him hell for me until I can come home... Ooh, yeah, put Jill on... Hiya!"

He couldn't quite tell who it was she was talking to, but after a while, she gestured for him to come over. Brow furrowed in confusion, Rosie approached, shrugging as if to ask what she was doing.

"Tell you what, I've got someone here who'd like to say hi," His face paled at this, and he began to shake his head. Frankie only nodded. "Yeah, that's right, he's one of my pilot friends," She grinned at whatever the other person had said, holding the receiver up to him. "Say hello!"

"Uh, hi?" Rosie spoke uncertainly, but the tiny voices on the other end of the line returning the greeting made him smile. Whoever these children were, they were very excited to hear from him.

Frankie took the receiver back, pressing it to her ear. "Alright, well, I've gotta run, but ask your uncle to call me when you get home from school tomorrow, yeah?... Alright. Love you. Bye!"

She was grinning as the call ended, hanging up the phone as he shot her a questioning glance. "They're my cousins. They've been living with my dad since the Blitz killed their mum."

Rosie frowned. "I'm sorry."

"S'alright, it was a few years ago now. But they're really good kids, I'm glad we got to take them in... You been with the doctor?"

"Begging him to let me leave, mostly," He nodded.

"They want me to see a grief counsellor or something, but there's no way in hell I'm doing that."

"Why not?"

"Because..." She shrugged. "I think shrinks need to mind their business."

"I'm not sure that's the best attitude to have about this."

"Like yours is any better - I heard you when I was waiting for the phone, you don't want to be here."

Rosie had nothing to say to that. She was right, he just wished she didn't know it. He sighed. "... You wanna go outside?"

"Yes."

It was as nice a day as one could find this time of year, the afternoon sun beating down on them as they strolled the gardens, gravel crunching beneath their feet with each step along the path. The grounds of Coombe House were huge - stables, tennis courts, croquet grounds, and the river, all connected by mazes of paths and neatly trimmed hedges. Neither of them had any real interest in the activities on offer, electing instead to simply wander aimlessly.

"So..." Frankie began. She was wearing what appeared to be a man's dress shirt - a rather large man, judging by the way it billowed out around her, the tails flapping in the breeze. "What did you do before this?"

"Oh, I was a lawyer."

She almost gasped at this, and Rosie couldn't help but grin at how clearly impressed she was. "Seriously? So you went to university?"

He began to chuckle. "Well, yeah, I went to law school, that's pretty much the requirement."

He could see her pondering this for a moment before her gaze snapped back to him. "Are you rich?" She almost whispered the question, as if the mere suggestion were scandalous.

"What?" Rosie scoffed. "No?"

"But you went to university."

"... Yes? Didn't you have to go to school to learn what you do?"

Frankie practically guffawed at this, a squawk escaping her throat that sounded so ridiculous he laughed himself. "Jesus, no. I dropped out of school when I was fourteen."

"Fourteen?"

"Yeah, that's the cut-off. I'm pretty much self-taught - y'know, like a genius," She wiggled her eyebrows mockingly. "Not just a pretty face."

Rosie smiled. It was easy to smile with Frankie - easy to forget the tragedy that had brought them both here. There was always something about her, something magnetic, that he was sure she could say anything at all and he would still smile. Perhaps it was worth sticking around for a while.

They took dinner in the main hall of the house, which had been laid out like a restaurant, the floor dotted with tables of various shapes and sizes, all covered with white tablecloths. Frankie stirred her soup with her spoon, around and around, scarcely ever eating any. But everyone noticed the whiskey she poured into her coffee. Pappy shot Rosie a glance, and he subtly shook his head, urging his co-pilot not to say anything. The Riveters seemed to have developed an unspoken understanding that she was his jurisdiction - if anything happened to Frankie, it was Rosie's business, not theirs. They all knew each other well by now - had all chatted on the hardstand and drank together in the pub - but it would've taken a blind man to be ignorant to the fact that what she and Rosie had was different.

"So... Frankie," Bailey spoke up, earning a few nervous glances from the rest of the crew. "How'd you find your first day?"

She nodded, buttering a bread roll and finally taking a bite. As she spoke, she lifted a hand to cover her mouth full of food. "It's nice, yeah. Although, I think big houses like this always smell like old people."

Pappy clicked his fingers as if she'd said something profound. "That's what that smell is!" Frankie chuckled, taking another sip of her alcohol-laced coffee.

Conversation was small, stilted. No one had it in them to talk about the last mission, but it was near impossible to recall any missions prior to that without having to mention Egan, a topic the Riveters had been warned to avoid like the plague. No one quite knew how Frankie would respond, and they preferred not to find out over dinner. But she wasn't a fool - she could tell they were dancing around her, leaving gaps in their stories for the sake of preserving her feelings. And if there was one thing Frankie didn't like, it was to be coddled.

"Right," She huffed, chair scraping against the polished floor as she stood up. The men's gazes all turned to her, half of them almost getting up on instinct, their mothers' lessons on manners ingrained into them. "I'm off. I'll see you gents tomorrow."

They muttered a scattered chorus of goodbyes and goodnight as she turned to leave the hall, taking her coffee with her. Rosie watched her go, his gaze tracking her across the room until the moment she passed through the doorway, at which point he practically leapt to his feet. "One sec," He uttered, dodging the other tables as he hurriedly made his way to the door.

Frankie was already halfway down the hall when he left, glancing up at the artwork she passed as she sipped away at her drink. "Frankie?" His voice echoed against the wood panelling, and she turned to look back. "You sure you're ok?"

She took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. "Look. Talk about what happened, or don't, I really don't care. But I'm not a child, and I don't need you all walking on eggshells around me, ok?"

"I..." He sighed. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

Frankie nodded. "G'night, Rosie."

"Goodnight."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Rosie couldn't sleep. Again. He couldn't quite pin down what it was that was keeping him awake - the Münster mission, his lingering desperation to get back to Thorpe Abbotts, or the guilt that had been eating away at him since Frankie had ditched at dinner. Nevertheless, the amalgamation of all three kept his mind restless, unable to calm itself enough to give him a moment of peaceful rest. Before he knew it, he was up, wrapping his dressing gown around himself, slippers muffling the sound of footfall as he began to pace the corridors.

There was no real direction to his wandering, in an almost trance-like state as his thoughts raced to make sense of things. Why was he here? Of all people, why him? It was a situation that couldn't be rationalised, but he tried nonetheless, the question almost torturous as he rolled it over in his mind. Luck wasn't a force he found comfortable - there was no solace in its painful lack of answers.

Music was coming from the end of the hall. It tore him from his thoughts, the muffled sound of jazz accompanied by a faint humming, his footsteps trailing after the sound before he had time to stop them. At first, the library appeared empty - no evidence it was inhabited save for the lamps that had been left on and the record that was slowly spinning away on its player. Rosie's brow furrowed, but then he realised the humming sound was coming from behind the couch.

Frankie was sat cross-legged on the floor, posted in the gap between the couch and the record player, obscured from view to anyone entering. She wore her baggy, blue pyjamas, hair pinned up in rollers around her scalp, a port glass filled with what appeared to be whiskey held in one hand as she sifted through the house's music collection with the other, building a hefty stack of records at her feet with the ones she had decided were of value.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't even look up, entirely unphased by his arrival. They had grown used to each other's presence so quickly that it seemed just as natural to be together as it did apart. "Looking. If I've gotta stay here all week they'd better have some good music."

Rosie looked down at the half empty glass in her hand, frowning. On the table behind her sat two others, stains left by her faded lipstick indicating she had already drained them of their contents.

"Are you drunk?"

Frankie hummed. "About two-thirds of the way there."

"Alright," He huffed, crouching down to tug the drink from her grip as she let out a gasp in protest. Rosie paused for a moment before upturning the amber liquid and pouring it down his own throat, coughing slightly at its sting. "Jesus, that's pretty strong stuff."

She seemed to be sulking, continuing to flick through the stack of singles in stubborn silence, as if electing to ignore his presence. Sighing, Rosie grunted slightly as he manoeuvred his way to sit down beside herm back resting against the arm of the couch as he peered at the pile she had gathered. "Hey, these are pretty good."

Frankie hummed, not saying a word as she continued to browse. He was beginning to think she had seen all of the records already, and was pretending to go over them again to avoid having to talk to him. She was craning forward to look, and he dared to raise a hand to her back, thumb skimming across her spine. Turning her head to look back at him, her big brown eyes reflecting the orange glow of the lamps, the corner of his mouth turned upwards in a flickering smile.

It felt stupid to ask if she was alright for the hundredth time. "How're you feeling?"

She tilted her head to the side, sitting back against the couch next to him. "I don't want you to make yourself so busy trying to look after me that you don't look after yourself."

Her response caught him off guard, and he blinked a few times as he tried to think of what to say to it. Had that been what he was doing? He supposed it must be. He'd spent maybe a couple of hours thinking of himself since he arrived, and those hours had been spent solely before Frankie's arrival and after he thought she'd gone to bed. Without realising, he'd accidentally made himself a caretaker for someone who never asked to be taken care of.

"How are you feeling?" She pressed.

Rosie heaved in a deep breath, holding it in his lungs for a moment before releasing the air in a sigh. "Being here feels... wrong," He confessed. "This- this is not how we're supposed to deal with what's happening - we don't play tennis and go riding with the hounds - I don't even know what that is, but-"

"Foxhunting?"

"Foxhunting," He nodded. "We're not supposed to sit around and talk and cry - we're supposed to keep going. Y'know - I'm here because I need to stand up to what's wrong and I can't do that when I'm sitting here," Rosie paused, running a hand over his face as he sighed again. Frankie's hand gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"I got in a rhythm. You go up, you come down, you do it again the next day, over and over. You keep the streak going because then you're in it - you're focused and you're sharp. But now it's broken."

Perhaps the broken streak had been the thing that bothered him most, the thing that stole his sleep more than anything else. But in truth, the more he thought it over, the rhythm had been broken for a long time. The rhythm had been broken since the day he met Frankie - since the moment he saw her smile and realised there was something he wanted to come back to. Her mere existence had planted that seed of fear in him, and suddenly he was covering for more than himself. For a moment he let his words trail away, simply staring at the way the light caught itself on her eyelashes.

Frankie nodded slowly, considering what he had said, trying to formulate something to say. But when she turned to glance back at him, all the words caught in her throat. No one had ever looked at her the way he did now, with such softness in his eyes that she almost felt suffocated by it, weighed down by whatever image of her Rosie must have contained in his mind. Frankie didn't know how to accept that kind of adoration - didn't know what to do with it, how to hold it in her hands without crushing it. It didn't even matter that she felt it too.

She leant into him, trying to rest her head against his shoulder without her curlers getting in the way. Rosie sucked in a breath, wrapping his arms around her, feeling the warmth of her through the thin layer of cotton that separated his palms from bare skin. There wasn't anything either of them could say to soothe each other's pains, but it was good enough to share the weight. She could hear his heartbeat, thumping slightly faster than it should've.

He fell asleep before the record ended. When he woke up, it had been taken off the player and put carefully away, morning sunlight flowing through the curtain and streaking across the carpet next to him. Frankie was gone, but there was a blanket strewn across his lap that hadn't been there the night before.

On the table beside him, a still-hot cup of coffee was giving off steam.

[winniemaywebber]

The Apple Tree • Part 5

warnings: none!!! just sad

read previous chapter here

Y/N struggles with not knowing where Rosie is.

Every day had been the same since Rosie had gone MIA. You'd wake up, head feeling like it was in a vice and get to the school on autopilot. The sky had been appropriately gray, and thick with fog most mornings, the twin of your current state of mind. You'd stay at the school late, grading papers and try your best to construct meaningful lesson plans so the children could still thrive and learn despite your sadness. They'd sometimes ask, their sweet, little faces full of sympathy as they'd question your upset. “Miss?” A little voice would say, “Are you alright?” You'd force a smile on your face and look back at them reassuringly. 

“Yes, my dear,” your voice catching in your throat. “I'll be fine.”

---

A week. And then two. Three, then four, all rolling into a ball of nothingness, blurring together. Most days, you're greeted by Sally who is always available to walk you home despite the treacherous weather and everyday she looks at you with her big sad eyes, shaking her head mournfully, wordlessly reminding you that there's no new information. Most days, you walk home in silence, her arm in yours, keeping you upright physically as well as metaphorically.

It's on the fourth week, on a Friday, that you hear a sharp rap on your door. Being in bed already - the only way you can seem to feel close to Rosie - you simply yell “come in!” to whoever is visiting at this late hour. You hear the door open quietly, and hear the familiar tip-tap of Sally in her kitten heels. You hear her kicking them off and placing them by the door, hurrying up the stairs in her now stockinged feet, padding all the way up the plush carpet. 

“Hi, darling,” she greets quietly, her face full of sympathy. “I thought I'd try coax you out to the pub.”

“No thanks,” you mumble, staring up at the ceiling. “I'm fine here.”

“Oh, doll,” she begins, walking towards the bed. “How are you doing?” Still not tearing your eyes from the ceiling, you nod quickly, trying to reassure your friend. But she knows you better than that, and after all these years, she can read you like a book. Before you can properly respond, she sees two tears leak from each eye and splash into your ears and on the pillow. 

Trying to comfort you the way she used to when you were kids, she goes to lay down next to you on the bed.

“No!” you start. “N-no, Sal. Don't lay there,” you softly weep. “That's where Rosie slept the night before–” You wipe your face with the back of your hand, trying to stop the tears flowing. “It still smells like him. Don't lay on it, Sal.” You pause, looking at your friend, her own eyes full of tears. She sniffs, trying to blink them back. 

“Then squidge up,” she says after a moment. “I'll lay on your pillow with you.” You wriggle slightly to the right to make room for her in the center of the bed, you just hanging off the edge slightly. She takes your hand and strokes it, just like she did right after Granny passed away. You whimper at her action, the sob that was thick in your throat finally being released. 

“Where is he, Sally? Where's my boy?”

“Y/N…darling…I don't know. I ask James everyday for an update. He's promised that he'll be round here like a shot if he ever finds anything out.” You nod, swallowing as you sniff back more tears.

“He's a good egg, Sal. I like him. I like how happy he makes you.”

“Me, too,” she sighs wistfully. “When all this is all over, I'm thinking of moving there to be with him.” 

“Sally, that's wonderful. I'll miss you terribly–”

“But let's not talk of that now. We need to take care of you.” She crawls off the bed and pulls you with her. “Come on,” she commands, rushing to your wardrobe. “You need to stop rotting. Let's go to the pub. Apparently, Rita is engaged to two of the Americans and neither knows about the other. Isn't that something?” You hear yourself gasp and then giggle, the first laugh you've made in weeks. 

“Well, now you've tempted me. Now I have to come.” 

—

The excited yapping you hear as you walk into the pub ceases at the sight of you, your friends looking back at you in surprise, before they stand up and rush to hug you, one by one. Murmurs of “oh, Y/N, we're so happy to see you,” and “how are you doing?” follow their embraces, and you find your eyes leaking at their affection and sympathy. Hugging them back, you sigh, not quite used to this level of affection.

 “Alright, ladies,” you struggle to gasp out, but smiling nonetheless. “I need to know everything about Rita. Spill.” 

They sit down, excited to finally be able to tell you the tales they've heard over the past few weeks. For a moment, your head is clear, listening to your friends chatter on, their voices octaves higher as they giggle their way through the spiel. You don't even notice that Sally has rushed over to the bar to greet James, until he places a pint in front of you with a sympathetic smile. He winks at you as you smile back, knowing you're thanking him with no words needed. You take a long sip, letting the alcohol run through your body and somehow, giving it warmth as you finally are able to enjoy something.

“So, she ended up saying yes to both men because she didn't want to upset either of them, and somehow, Y/N, neither knows about the other. But, get this! They're co-pilots!”

“What?!” you screech, ale almost flying through your nose in shock. “They must know! There's absolutely no way–”

“We thought that, too!” Sally replies, wide eyed and a little frazzled. “But Rita maintains that they have no clue.”

“Nope, not buying it,” you giggle, hand covering your mouth. “They must talk about her to one another! They're either ignoring it or somehow, it's not clicking that they're both with the same girl!” 

For just a small moment, your overwhelming sadness is forgotten, the pit in your stomach somehow smaller than it had been in the past weeks. But, then, all of a sudden, your mind goes back to the night you spent with him; how he'd touched you, the way he'd wrapped himself around you to fall asleep for those few hours. The way he looked at you like you were the only girl in the world. It's those thoughts that send you into a tailspin, lips pressed together to keep the tears at bay. Draining your glass, you gesture over to the barman for another and try to keep breathing steadily. 

—

“Hey! Wait, seriously? You're not lyin’ to me?” You hear a familiar Tennessee drawl behind you, and an excited one at that. “Croz, she's right there!” They both pause for a moment. “Can I tell her, sir?”

“Sure thing,” Croz replies. You turn around at the two familiar voices. James smiling brightly at you, Harry nervously shuffling from one foot to the other, clutching his hat in his slightly shaking hands. 

“Y/N, c'mere, doll!” James beckons you over with his booming voice. You stand and walk towards the two men, forcing a polite smile on your face. 

“Hi, James. Oh, Harry, wonderful to see you. Can I get you a drink?” 

“No, ma'am,” he replies, now not able to hold back his apparent joy. “Pearson here has something to tell you. I've been rushing all over base looking for this fella to tell him what he's about to tell you.” You look at James with an expectant expression, feeling your eyes widen. He can't seem to get the words out, nor keep a straight face. 

“Out with it, Jimmy, before I lose my mind!” You scold, playfully pushing him. 

“Rosie got word to base!” 

“What?!” you shout, your arms going across your chest in shock. “W-where is he?” Tears fill your eyes and they escape before you're aware of what's happening. 

“He got shot down in Berlin,” Croz begins, his downturned eyes having an underlying sadness to them as he looks at you. “But, he managed to keep the plane flying until everyone had bailed out. He's in Russia.” 

“Russia? He's safe, right?”

“Yes, ma'am. He says they're taking really good care of him.” Harry laughs a little, wondering whether to divulge further information. You see that, and nod at him to carry on. “He says the vodka is impeccable.” Laughing, you feel familiar arms around your waist, Sally's head on your shoulder, half laughing, half crying as she hears the news. 

Word spreads to the rest of the pub, the airmen cheering and hugging at the news. James hands you a whiskey, then thrusting one in Croz's hand. You clink glasses with him, and with James before turning back to Harry.

“Thank you,” you begin, voice shaking slightly. “Thank you for coming to tell me, for even thinking of me.”

“No problem,” he replies nervously. “To Rosie?”

“To Rosie.”

---

thank you once again to my besties @sagesolsticewrites and @ginabaker1666 for reading this multiple times before posting (as usual!!!) <3

chapter 6

masterlist

[wexhappyxfew]

home is an anchor

(a/n): annie x brady girlies we're back with another piece where we finally dig a bit into annie's background; was trying to go for a bit more light-hearted again, but instead...it got a little bit sad at parts, so don't mind that. between listening to sad taylor swift songs + hard school week, just needed to put emotions somewhere and here we are :) sometimes we all need a little comfort that feels just like home......

Her mother wasn't really the best at playing the 'mother-role' but she had tried her best, especially with the amount of siblings running around.

Her father had been away in a local mechanic garage, working his hardest to earn what money he could for his family and her older brother, Roy, at the peak age of 16 was going to the mill everyday to earn some extra cash, as Annie and the rest of her younger siblings had done chores around the house, cleaning, washing, scrubbing, keeping the farm running the best they could.

And Annie, being the second oldest, just under Roy, who was always away, the stress and weight of everything seemed to fall right on her shoulders. And the nights her father was working until 2 in the morning, and the stress was far too much for her mother, who went and would drink the night away with what she could scrounge, Annie would take care of her other siblings - and when Roy would get back just after dinner, he'd help out the best he could.

They'd work side by side, feeding, cleaning, locking up the house at night, getting their 5 younger siblings into beds, washed and clean and ready for sleep without a worry in the world. Annie would forget about herself, usually taking whatever was left after everyone had eaten, usually the last to sleep or she'd stay up and wait for her father to get home so that'd he'd be taken care of. The Depression had been the hardest - not just weeks or months like that, but years. Years of that, day in and day out.

So, being here at Thorpe Abbotts - it was like it was telling her that had all been worth it.

She was currently cramped in one of the chairs in the officers' club chairs by the crackling fire, listening to the patter of rain somewhere above her, half in-and-out of sleep as she curled into herself, trying to catch up on sleep that she had missed the previous night. They'd been up so early for today's mission that the tossing and turning of her sleep had done nothing but make her run on only about an hour of sleep by that point.

Annie felt something drape over her body, instantly becoming warmer and she cracked an eye open and saw that it was Brady who had laid the blanket, who was moving himself over towards the chair opposite the table that was at her side, settling down with undoubtedly a cup of something that would take off the edge.

The blanket was warm and instantly made her a bit more exhausted than she had been previously; she shifted around a bit and then cracked open her eyes more and turned her head towards Brady, squinting at him and yawning.

"Thanks." she said through her yawn, slowly sitting up, her hair a bit wet from coming out of Silver Bullets in a torrential downpour, the chill of the evening rolling in, as she rubbed at her hands and scrambled to pull the blanket up and over her body a bit more, "Didn't think I was this tired." Brady watched her for a moment, a small laugh from his lips as he sipped his drink.

"You looked cold, and with this rain," he looked at the ceiling, "nothing a bit of a blanket can't fix."

"Yeah," Annie said quietly, cuddling the blanket up over her body a bit more, "I appreciate it." She met Brady's gentle, doe eyes and he continued smiling at her, the soft glisten of the fire dancing in his eyes as he watched her right back.

Annie lazily stared at the golden hues, her eyes becoming entranced by the flicker of the flame in front of her, enjoying the hum of the heat of the orange and yellow licks of fire in front of her, the slight chatter behind her of pilots and bartenders, the patter of the rain above them; the overall general comfort that at the minute, no one was asking for her. All she needed to do was sit here, warm up and rest.

"Gotten any news back home from your family?" Brady asked her quietly, looking towards her with an almost innocent gaze, "Some of the guys have started getting mail again, and I figured…." Annie slowly slid her eyes towards him and nodded.

"Yeah." she said, "A letter. From my father." Something in Brady's face changed.

"Everything okay?" he asked her, a slight edge to his voice that wasn't there before.

"Mom's not doing well," Annie said, but quickly recovered herself, "hasn't been for a while so." Brady slowly leaned forward in his seat, catching her gaze and a bit of guilt seeped into her stomach, just seeing that look on his face. Worry. Concern. She didn't want someone to have to worry and bother themselves over her for something she herself couldn't even control. Especially people who were already stressed beyond compare.

"Annie…."

"It's okay, really," Annie said with a nod, her eyes traveling back to the fire, "she's actually the one that didn't want me even coming here. Said she needed hands back at the farm, she couldn't do much anymore….I told her no. That I wanted to do this. And now….." Annie stared at the fire and let out a shaky sigh and nodded, before glancing back over at Brady and finding him, worry lines drawn across his face, eyes saddened, expression deep in thought.

"It's complicated." Annie said, a small laugh escaping her lips, but she felt her body constrain at the end of her attempt of covering laughter, "Sorry."

"No, no, don't apologize," Brady said, watching her gaze again as she held his, "I'm sorry, Annie." Annie watched him, their gazes a whole other level of complexity Annie had no time to dig into at this very moment, and she smiled.

"Thanks, John." she said quietly and he nodded. Then, before he could look away, she looked down at the fire and let out a small breath. She wasn't looking at him, but she could tell he wanted to say something; the air wasn't cleared, there was clearly something still on the edge of his tongue and the longer they sat in that tense silence, the more she wanted to hear him say it. Whatever it happened to be.

Annie thought back to those times - her mother drinking, father stressed out of his mind, all those kids, Roy barely afloat, Annie feeling like a single mother at 15 when she shouldn't have even been in that position in the first place. She had just done as she was told, to survive, to breathe a bit. She thought it had been the right thing and it had, but the guilt never left her. Leaving her family like that, thinking it was okay. She knew that she was an adult and had every right to do what she did, to live a bit more, fight against this war, but sometimes it ate her alive. Knowing her mother was dying and she was here. Annie hadn't realized her eyes had begun to fill with tears until one was itching down her cheek.

"Hey, Annie, you okay?" Brady asked quietly, leaning forward, his drink forgotten about along with the world. Annie looked to him and nodded, reaching up to wipe at her eyes and get rid of the tears as fast as she could - it was embarrassing, alright? To be getting so upset over this, in front of Brady, in their current situation. There were a lot more worse-off situations than hers.

"I'm okay," Annie said, "all good." Brady slowly stood and kneeled beside her chair and watched her face - God, he was pretty tall wasn't he. Kneeling beside her, he leaned a hand on the chair back that snaked an arm around the one side of her form - and he watched her face, trying to dissect the problem and fix it, seemingly as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry about your mom, Annie," he whispered, her eyes looking to his like some sort of forbidden safe haven - because it'd never leave her - even when her mother did eventually die, and this war was over. It would never go away. But she could try and bury it.

"Thanks, John," she whispered, "I didn't mean to turn into a sap. Especially here, goddamn." Annie briefly, angrily, reached up and wiped at some tears.

"It's stupid anyway."

"No it's not," Brady breathed out quietly, catching her eyes again, and offering a small smile that made her heart warm, "things like that, especially dealing with family. It's not stupid, I can promise you. Despite whatever's going on." Annie held his gaze.

"It's not stupid to me." he said softer this time, "Especially when it's you." Annie stared at him, the tears in her eyes making his face a slightly blurred Picasso painting and she managed a watery smile his way.

"I just hate the feeling, ya know?" Annie said quietly, "Feeling guilty, but knowing you can't do anything. Like, I know I can't do a thing, I did what I could, we turned out our separate ways, but I still feel like that scared little girl. To her. To me."

"Hey," Brady said quietly, reaching up to wipe at the tear that squeaked out from her eye, before resting a hand on her arm through the blanket, "don't worry yourself thin at the minute. You said it yourself. You can only do what you can right now. Especially half-way across the world. You just did a helluva bombing run, okay? You're doing your best, Annie. It's admirable." And when Brady uttered little things like that to her, she believed them like a prayer verse in the family Bible in her father's bedside. She believed it like it were something she'd whisper to herself every night. She believed it because it had fallen from Brady's lips.

"Here," Brady said, getting to his feet and standing in front of her - floppy hair in his eyes, A-2 jacket having seen better days, tie that she felt the urge to fix - and holding out a hand. Annie stared at him, raising a brow his way, and chuckling a slightly wet laugh from the tears that were slowly disappearing.

"What are you doing?" she managed out quietly, with a laugh.

"Just trust me." he said with a lopsided smirk, that seemed to light up his eyes in a way that made her insides twist. Annie laughed quietly, but shifted off the blanket, which had been delightfully warm now that it was removed from her now cold form and took his hand - warm, much larger than her own it practically encased it, and inviting. Comforting. A touch that lingered.

He took her other hand and she stared at him. There hadn't been really any times previous they'd been like this. They'd danced together once - one of those big-band upbeat songs that had her off her feet and twirling in his arms. But she'd done that with Bucky, who'd nearly twirled her into a table. This felt different though. The way his hands held her own, the way he was watching her, the way this felt.

"What's going on?" she whispered sneakily with a chuckle. Brady, smirking again that brooding and rather charming grin, pulled her closer to him and placed a hand on her hip, his thumb brushing against the fabric of her own jacket and the fleece underneath, his other hand holding her own against his shoulder like something holy. And he watched her, just inches above her and smiled.

"Ahhh." Annie whispered quietly, with a small laugh, "I'll admit, I have two left feet when it comes to this." Brady watched her, his eyes so big and whole and staring only at her; it made her want to shrink into him for some reason.

"I saw you dancing with Bucky that one time," he whispered, his voice gentle on her ears, "you have anything but." Her cheeks flamed a bit at the thought - he'd seen that? Annie laughed lightly, catching herself as she looked to his bright eyes again. He leaned his head forward to her ear.

"I didn't realize you had freckles," he whispered, before his small chuckle seemed to fill in her ears, "they're cute." Annie's face must've been on fire as a laugh left her lips and she curled her head to the side in between his neck and collarbone - he smelled sweet, almost like honey, and in some weird way, it reminded her of home.

"You're such a tease, John Brady," she whispered against his neck, his grip tightening on her hip as he pulled her closer to his form, "but thank you." He chuckled.

For a moment, they both grew quiet, these sweet nothings between them lingering and as tender as a light touch, their bodies swaying back and forth like a wave lapping gently on the shoreline. Annie closed her eyes, inviting the touch from him all over her body - her face pressed on his neckline, his hand on her hip and lingering on her hand, holding it softly, his face somewhere in her hair and near her ear, her body pressed against his chest, holding on like he were an anchor of some sort. A grounding one at that.

"No one's ever told me that." Annie whispered against his neck, her breath warm.

"What?" Brady whispered back into her ear - his voice seemingly always doing something to her no matter what.

"About my freckles." Annie said softly, no one's ever been this close. She heard Brady's little laugh in her ear and smiled.

"Honored to be the first." Brady said, though his words sort of hung out in the air like a tree branch in fall. Maybe you'll be the last, Annie thought, but jumping to thoughts like that right now was something she buried deep inside her.

"I think a part of me will always be attached to the idea of what my life was when I was younger, when Mom was better," Annie whispered, and Brady seemed to tense under her fingertips, "but, I won't lie, right now all I can think about is…." she trailed off in a manner she hadn't intended and could feel him waiting for her to finish her answer. Instead, she pulled back slightly and looked up at him and managed a small smile. He watched her, eyes glowing, on her.

"Right now all you can think about is…." Brady started quietly, expectantly waiting for an answer. Annie felt herself go red again, a deeper crimson than before and found that when he was suddenly very intently watching her like this, all she could do was smile.

"Annie." Quickly turning her head from Brady, her walls suddenly going back up unexpectedly, she found Francis coming towards them and let her walls crumble again as the woman approach with a small smile on her face.

"Listen, I hate to break this up, but Harding's been asking for you. Needs an opinion on….something or other, says there's some new crews joining us. Primeblue? I don't know, something like that - lead pilot did some runs in Africa, name's Matilda Kerkering. Got a crew, too. Like a mini-you." Francis rambled on, and then caught Annie's expression and cleared her throat, "Alright, listen, just….meet me outside. I got an umbrella and everything, real snazzy." And with that Francis was turning away and Annie was frozen somewhat in her place. Slowly, she turned back to look at Brady and found him watching her with that look on his face, all warm and gentle and intently focusing on her, his eyes all soft.

"A mini-you." Brady said, his hand squeezing at her hip a bit, before whispering in her ear, "You look incredibly excited." Annie mock-scoffed and gave him a small smack on the shoulder with a grin and shook her head.

"Just because you can read my facial expressions, doesn't mean you have to verbally express that meaning," she whispered back with a chuckle, "it might get me in trouble one day." Brady smirked at her and raised a brow and she shoved at his shoulder again with a buckle of laughter, before turning slightly and grabbing the blanket and pulling it into her arms. His hand ever-presently still lingered on her hip and she found herself enjoying that bit of a presence there. Just a touch that told her he was there.

"Thanks for taking my mind off things a bit," Annie said to him, smiling brightly up towards him, "it just gets to me sometimes, all of that. What's going on back home, can't control things, all of that. So, just, thank you, truly." Brady smiled at her and nodded.

"Everyone needs a little cheering up sometimes," Brady said, "but hey, look, I'll see you later." She smiled at him.

"Go on, Lieutenant, they're in need of your wisdom and guidance." Annie let out a bark of laughter, shoving his shoulder teasingly again before stepping away, her hip slightly cold, the lack of Brady's hand suddenly engrained in her brain, her thoughts, her feelings.

"Hey, Annie," Brady called, and she turned to look over her shoulder and found him stood, hands in his pockets, smirk on his face, "right now all you can think about is….?" Annie stared at him, suddenly staring him down from a few feet away now, no longer under his rather intense gaze that she gravitated towards.

You.

You, you, you, her head seemed to scream. Annie smiled at him and then offered him a mock salute before immediately turning away and speeding right out of the officers' club, a small smile on her lips as she stepped outside, immediately crash-landing into Francis, who caught her arm and chuckled.

"You and Brady looked incredibly cozy." Francis said with a chuckle and Annie rolled her eyes.

"Shut up."

“Just saying, looked like the guy was about to ya know, make it official or something."

"He was just being nice, Francis," Annie said, "nothing to worry about."

"You and I clearly define 'nice' as completely different things."

"It was nothing." Annie admonished again, crossing her arms and glancing up towards the woman, "Brady's just…..he's just being nice." Francis smirked and sent her a look as she held the umbrella up above their heads.

"Tell that to the grip he had on your hip." Francis said and then looked away and stepped forward, "Come on! Harding's got a million different documents that need sorting and a second brain." Annie followed under the umbrella, bright red in the face, Francis smirking like a loon. Maybe anchors didn't only anchor other things, but one another in some sort of way a war would force something to.

[natslildove]

gif not mine

Bring you back

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: since vormir, you haven’t been in touch with any avenger, you went missing. no one knew where you were or if you were even still alive. until one day, you hear a knock on the door and a familiar face awakes something inside of you, you thought was long gone. hope.

warnings: swearing, endgame canon (except tony), bit of angst?

authors note: english is not my first language so pleaaaase be nice :)) this is a mini fic cause i can’t put myself to write something bigger than, idk, like 4 chapters? anyways!!! hope you guys like it!!

3:04 AM

You lay in bed wide awake, staring at the ceiling. Sighing, you turn around for what it feels like the tenth time in less than twenty minutes. It’s almost entirely quiet and all you can hear is the light sound of crickets far away and the soft wind hitting the trees.

You realize tonight would be one of those nights, where you can’t sleep for whatever reason. You get up, brush your teeth and goes to the kitchen room. In your way, you ignore the room at the end of the corridor with a locked door. It’s been 5 years since you’ve last went there.

It’s 2023. Your lover died 5 years ago and yet, technically, she dies this year too. In 3 days, she officially dies in Vormir.

Your stomach growls and you just remembered you haven’t eaten in a few hours. Or days. Or weeks. Who knows, no one’s counting. Opening the refrigerator, you look and there’s an untouched vodka bottle and a soda can. You take the soda, leaving the bottle still untouched. Natasha bought it, said you’d celebrate together after “beating Thanos ass”. She never got home and you never celebrated anything after. Not birthdays, not anniversaries, not holidays. Nothing.

You drink the soda on your way to the living room. Throwing yourself ok the couch and turning the TV on on whatever channel. You just watch the lights, never really paying attention to what was being played.

6:34 AM

You’re still on the couch when you hear a soft knock. You turn the TV off immediately and look for your gun that, just like many things in this house, has been left untouched for years. Checking to see if it’s loaded and, quietly releasing a breathe of relief and you realize it is, you walk slowly to the door trying to make less sound possible. You look through the peephole and it’s black. Someone’s blocking it. You open the door fast and points the gun directly at their head.

“That’s no way of greeting your sister in law”, Yelena says smirking.

“Lena?…” Your voice is hoarse and you just now notice how even your vocal cords were left untouched. For years. You barely recognize your own voice. “How’d you find me?”

“I never lost you” she smiles. “What? You think I’d let your crazy ass just vanish? Nu-uh!” she seems… Weird.

“What do you want?” you ask, not wanting to look at her for too long, afraid it will bring memories you try every day to forget.

“Y/N Y/LN, I am completely offended! Can’t I just come visit to see how you are?”

“I’m fine, goodbye” you went to close the door but her foot stood in the way. “Yelena, get ou-“

“We think we can bring her back” she interrupts you. Her ironic smile is no longer on her face as she says it.

Silence. You finally, actually, look at her. Still, you say nothing you just shake your head. Slowly at first, then faster.

“Don’t.” your voice cracks. Not for being quiet for years, but because you throat is closing. Your eyes feel heavy and you head hurts.

“I’m serious, we might-“

“Don’t!” you say it louder. “Don’t do this to me, Lena. I- I can’t, ok? I can’t.”

“Y/N-“

“No! She’s… She’s dead! She’s been dead for years! Do you know how long it took me to accept it?” you haven’t yet “You can’t show up at my door after 5 years and, and say this! You’re lying, I don’t know why but you are!”

“Will you let me speak? For God sakes!” her throat is closing too “I don’t know the details but there is a chance! It might not work but… What if it does?”

“It won’t.”

“You don’t know that”

Silence.

“What if you have the chance to see her again?” she practically begs “I want my sister back, Y/N! Just as much as you! And if you don’t want to help, then fuck you! We’re doing it without you!” she leaves.

You’re still at the door half an hour later, staring blankly at some tree in the big yard.

“Detka, let me go.” Natasha smiles at you, she’s crying and yet, she looks so in peace.

You’re the opposite. Your eyes are almost jumping out of your face, crying. You look panicked.

“It’s ok”. It’s the last thing she tells you when she let go of your hand. You can’t move and you watch as the woman you love jumps herself to death. You watch as her body hits the ground and the most horrific scream comes out of your mouth. She’s dead. She killed herself for billions who she never even met. People who loved her. People who hated her. People who had no idea how big her heart is. Was.

Giving one last look to her dead, bleeding and broken body, you leave.

When back to the compound, you hear Bruce ask for her. You have no strength and pass out. For days. When you wake up, it’s the middle of the night and you’re alone. Forever. You change clothes, grab some of your stuff making sure to leave your phone there and leave. Never looking back.

Until now.

It’s a day later and you’re staring at the big compound in front of you. You take a big breathe and adjusts the cap in your head. For a second you almost smile, thinking of how many times a cap and a sweatshirt were used as disguise by your ex-coworkers. But you don’t. You don’t even know if you still know how to smile. It’s like your face is forever stuck in this bored and numb look.

You follow the path you did for many years, getting to the elevator and putting your digital. It works still. You’re relieved, it would be embarrassing to call someone.

Tony, Steve, Wanda, Yelena and Clint are in the living room discussing. Yelling and pouting fingers at each other. When, suddenly, the elevator dings.

They all stop and look at it. The doors opens and you look at them. They’re all surprised. Expect for Yelena, she has a knowing smirk on her face.

“So… How are we doing this?”, you ask.

1042 words.

please tell me what you guys think, it’s my first time writing full english !!! <333

[issybee06]

Because…

Part iii

Warnings: swearing, the council, violence, blood, poison, field surgery, scars, body image issues, Hatakes has dog teeth, flashbacks of every kind!, drinking

Eesome

(Adj.) pleasing to the eye

………………………………………………………………………….

“I don't want to go to the academy, Ka-chan.”

The tall woman sighed, pushing her short red hair out of her face as she dragged the little 5-year-old.

“Chibi-chan…I know you don't want to go, but you have to.”

The little girl puffed her cheeks, glaring forward, “it's gonna stink.”

The red-haired woman sighed, adjusting her yukata as she walked, “and remember, Kushina-san is going to pick you up because I have to return to the capital.”

The little girl frowned, fist-grabbing her dress skirt while she willed tears not to rise. The Academy was in view and she couldn't help but look down at her feet as they walked.

As the got to the entrance the woman smiled, raising a hand in greeting, “Sakumo-kun, hey!”

The white-haired man jumped a bit, startled by the red-haired woman's loud voice. When he saw who it was, he returned the smile and nervously waved back, “Risa-Hime, Kon'nichiwa.”

He looked down at the small girl, who ducked behind her mother's leg. She peaked out, studying the white-haired man with calculating eyes. Looking to his side, she was surprised to she a mini version of him but with a mask.

She furrowed her brows at him, and he glared back.

The man placed his hand on the little boy's head, ruffling his spiky hair.

“You remember Risa-Hime, right Kakashi?”

The woman laughed lightly, “Probably not…been a while since we've been away from the capital…”

She nudged the girl out, “(Y/n)…this is my very good friend Hatake Sakumo, and his son Kakashi. Sakumo and I were on the same Genin team.”

The girl cautiously came out from behind her mother, cheeks red as she bowed.

“Its very nice to meet you!”

Sakumo nervously laughed, “gosh, last time you brought her to the village she was just a baby.”

He smiled down at the girl, “it's very nice to meet you too, (Y/n)-hime.”

He nudged the boy, “Kakashi, why don't you and (Y/n)-hime walk to the classroom together?”

The boy frowned but nodded silently, and looked at the Girl.

“…lets go.”

She nodded with a light blush, following him as he walked through the gate.

The parents watched, Risa biting her thumb nail as she watched the little girl disappear.

Sakumo huffed with a smile, “…never thought we'd be parents.”

Risa snorted, “I was never going to be a parent, but you? You were always going to be a dad Sakumo, your too…”

He huffed, “too what?”

She smirked, “dog like.”

He pursed his lips, looking away, “…im not dog Like.”

She chuckled, her teeth still butting at her nail.

He looked over at her, frowning at her nail-biting, “I see you still have that habit.”

She narrowed her green eyes at him, and he chuckled.

“I do not, Baka…”

Opening my eyes, I groaned quietly. Inching my way to my alarm clock, I died a little inside when it read “7:20am”.

Great, only 4 hours of sleep.

I rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling as Saké jumped onto the bed to great me. He cried, pawing at me as he demanded to be let out of my tiny room so that he could get breakfast. He’ll probably bother Genma for it, Genma usually spoils the Ragdoll by feeding him egg scraps.

I sit up, scooting to the end of the bed before sliding on slippers. Looking down at my cloths, I make a face realizing I slept in my work pants. I kick the slippers off before shimming out of my pants, kicking them to the corner. I go to my draw, pulling out cotton shorts.

After getting redressed, I open my door and almost get tripped as Saké darts between my legs to trot down the hall.

“Fucking cat…”

I stumbled down the hall, accidentally bumping the corner as I entered the kitchen/living room area, and groaned. After living in this apartment for four years, you'd think I'd know how to avoid the corners.

I opened the fridge, grabbing the egg crate and the wet cat food. I placed the crate on the counter before grabbing a small bowl from the shelf and putting a spoonful of wet food in it. I placed it on the ground and huffed a laugh as Saké raced over to pig out.

Genma yawned as he walked out of his room, bare-chested. He scratched his head, squinting his eyes, “w…why the hell are you up?”

I clench my jaw, cracking an egg before putting into the pan.

“Meeting about that S-class poison. Forgot all bout it…”

Genma hums, walking over to rest his chin on my shoulder, “Eggs for me too?”

I smile, patting his cheek, “yeah, you too.”

A lot of people thought we were dating since we live together and are very close, but it was only because we found comfort in each other's company. I wouldn't say I'd never date Genma, but as years have gone by he's become like family to me.

He hummed, “how late will you be?”

Shrugging, I dish out two plates of eggs, purposely dropping a good size piece for Saké.

“Not too late, it's just a meeting.”

He nods, taking his plate to the table as begins to eat. I sit down across from him, blowing on my eggs before putting them in my mouth. Biting down, I felt a crunch and frown when I realized shells had gotten in. Extra protein I guess.

Saké, having finished the scrap I dropped for him, now was weaving his body around our legs and loudly begging for more. Genma giggled like a 5-year-old, dropping more for the Ragdoll. He really did spoil that cat.

I stood, emptying the rest of my eggs onto Genmas plate. “Im running late, clean up for me?”

He made a noise, egg in his mouth and I took it as a ‘yes’. I go down the hall To the bathroom, closing the door behind me and locking it.

I pulled my shirt off, then unhooked my bra with a sigh of contentment. I really needed a bra with a better wire, this one stabbed my armpits and didn't support me at all. I than shimmied out of my shorts and underwear, kicking it to the basket.

I then to the mirror, pulling my short hair into a bun. I frown slightly, eyes catching the long ugly scar going down my front.

Rin… did a good job, but she was mediocre at healing scars. I owe her my life, but I couldn't help the itching in the back of my head that told me that the scar made me…ugly. I, of course, know scars are not meant to be seen as ugly, but as marks that show I was still alive…but I still felt that ich.

Jumping into the shower, I scrub myself down from head to toe in lavender soap. It was calming, and coming from a clan that had animal…characteristics on my father's side, the smell wouldn't be too overpowering. I was also thinking of the Inuzuka that would be present, Inuzuka Tsume, and the silver Anbu that would be hiding in the rafters.

After cleaning, I jump out and towel-dry before walking across the hall to my room, getting a low and teasing whistle from Genma.

I walked back out, hitting Genma in the head with a scroll. I walk to the door, pulling my shinobi sandles on.

“sayonara.”

He grinned, “aw, no good bye kiss?”

He began to pucker his lips, making loud smooching sounds as he tried to grab me. I giggle, pushing his face away, “you wish.”

He gasps dramatically, “Oh dear Princess of Konoha! You wound me so!”

I roll my eyes, “Ittekimasu, Genma.”

He smiles, “Ittekimasu, (Y/n). Be safe out there.”

I smile, standing and opening the door, “I always am.”

…………………………………………..……………………………

“…so as you can see, our research shows that the poison drives from Fungis. Now, if we can narrow down which one, we can create the necessary cure and/or antidote.”

I finish, placing my notes down as the rest of the visible people in the room nod, murmuring.

Tsume huff, “and you suggest that the Inuzukas find this mushroom, yes?”

I nod, “Hai. With your powerful sense of smell, this would be elementary level for you.”

Play her, paise her and she'll take the bait.

The older Kunoichi smirked, “hm, so the Chibi Hatake wasn't up for this?”

I bristle a bit, and Inoichi stands, “Anbu have more pressing missions, you however are free since you are just now come I G out of maternity leave.”

She huffed, “second one was harder to train then Hana, not my fault.”

I smiled, “so will you take the mission?”

She waved me off, and I frowned, “Yeah, yeah. I'll do it, just give me the sent so I can get this over with.”

Setsuko walks out, handing the wolfish woman a glass vial containing the poison. Tsume pops the cap open, and blue fumes waft out. She smifts the air around it, careful not to sniff the actual poison. With a shiver, she seals the Vail, “That's a strong smell, how do you work with this Senju-hime?”

My mouth goes into a straight line, and I don't respond. My father's Side was…a touchy subject.

She hums, handing the Vail back to Setsuko. She stands, and Inoichi and Ibiki stand as well, “Arigatō, Tsume-sama. This is very helpful for us.”

She scoffs, waving Inoicho off, “Call it a favor from an old friend.”

He smiles, and the crowfeet by his eyes become more apparent. He walks out with her, and Ibiki follows after. Setsuko and I begin to clear up the office room, gathering the extra poison vials and notes.

I look up, and I see that stupid dog mask smiling down at me as he crouches on a beam. Setsuko looks over, smiling, “ready?”

I roll My neck, “ah, not yet. I'm gonna hang back and read over the notes one more time. I'll catch up, kay?”

The younger girl blushes, nodding, “H-hai, Senju-hime. See you back at the lab.”

She leaves, slipping out the metal door and closing behind her.

“…shes cute.”

“Shes not your type.”

He jumps down, landing soundlessly onto the table, not even making a tube rattle.

“Maa, I wasn't talking about for me.”

“Shes Not my type either, she's 16.”

He huffs lighly, a laugh.

“16? And working in TI?”

I look boredly over at him, “look who's talking, Mr. “I joined Anbu at 13”.”

He leans back on his hands, crisscrossing his legs as he tilts his head playfully, “I was asked.”

I hum, crossing my arms, “still did it.”

He hums back, tilting his head to the other side, “saw what you did, with Tsume-sama. You played her.”

I scoff, “I did no such thing, honestly I'm appalled you'd even suggest I played a clan head.”

I was grinning, and I could tell he was too busy his his chakra warmed a bit.

I furrow my brows at him, “what?”

He gave a snort of a laugh, “your accent.”

I raise my brow, “accent?”

He raised a hand, gesturing to me, “When you talk for long enough, you say things in a snooty capital accent.”

I scoff, laughing as I shove him, “I do not have a snooty capital accent.”

He laughs, jumping off the table, “you do though! Ever since we were kids!”

I roll my eyes, opening the door as he follows After me.

“I don't have an accent…”

He huffed, walking with md to the lab, “It's gotten less noticeable since you first moved here, but it's there.”

I shake my head, opening the door to the lab and peaking in to make sure Setsuko east in there. Sighing, I open it more.

“It was a light accent when I got here! Barely noticeable.”

He scoffed, walking in as I shut the door. He sat down in my rolly chair, “it was so bad I couldn't understand you for two weeks, (Y/n).”

I shake my head, moving over next to him to place the vials back into their protective case. He leans back, watching me.

“It was not a bad accent...”

He chuckles, “no…it was cute, you used to get so frustrated when people picked on you for it. Never seen someone get so red.”

I scoff, looking down at the dog mask.

“Yeah? And was it cute when I punched Ebisu in the face because of it?”

“No, that was hilarious and I wish I had a video of it.”

I roll my eyes at Him, reading over my notes. Kakashi and I were close…we’d been closed since we first met, considering his close our parents were.

Sure…we didn't talk for a sold 2 years after the nine-tails, but now things started to feel normal…even if it was only when he had that stupid Dog mask on. When he didn't, he got quiet, barely speaking when he did talk, and couldn't hold any eye contact. Kskashi without inu…was the same Kakashi who lost his team and family.

But when he had that mask on, he was hiding that side of him. He was fearless, playful, and more open…

It was Inu, not Kakashi.

“Are you coming with all of us to Ichirakus?”

He shifted s bit, his chakra growing colder.

“Ah, no. I have a mission tonight, sorry.”

I frown a bit, concerned. He had been taking back-to-back missions more often, A and S class mostly. My eyes softened for him, understanding why.

It was his escape, however unhealthy it was, he needed the rush of a mission to keep him going. He craved it, like a drug, and no matter how many times he tries to quit he'd go back full force the next day.

The only way he was leaving the anbu was either being pulled…of death.

………………………………………………………………………….

“-AND I WON'T CRY FOR YOU! I WON'T CRUCIFY THE THINGS YOU DoOoO!”

I burst out laughing, leaning drunkenly on Genma as we all watch Gai sing off toon to music from the karaoke massine.

We left Ichiraku hours ago and had stumbled in here after Asuma challenged Gai to a singing competition, and I've got to say, Gsi sure did have some pipes.

Maybe the ciggerets were ruining peoples voices, because Asuma couldn't hold a note to save his life.

Kurenai and Asuma burst out laughing, falling out of their seat as Gai began to dance magic mike style to the music. Gai Really was the life of every party, always so bright and good.

I smiled softly, and I looked over at Genma. Smirking, I follow his eyes to the bar area.

“You should go talk to her.”

His face turned Scarlett, “w-what?! I can't do that!”

I roll mg eyes, “go on. I need the apartment to myself something, you know?”

He kissed my cheek, “thank you wing man.”

I smiled as I watched him go, noticing all my friends were getting tired. Asuma, who was less drunk than Kurenai pulled her up, “I'll walk her Home, you got Gai?”

I nod, smiling, “always.”

“-WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE! A YELLOW SUB-MUFF?!”

I groan, coving the tall mans mouth, “Gai, my love, I beg of you to shut up.”

He smiled lazily, resting his head on mine and we walked to his apartment, “but that song is sooooo youthful.”

I laugh, shaking my head at Him as I help him up the stairs.

“Keys, Gai.”

He clumsily hands them over, and I giggle down at the little turtle charm.

I help him in, steering him towards his room. I wince as I bumps into a corner, but he just giggles.

As soon as he hit his bed, he was out, and I moved his trash can over to his bed if he got sick.

Walking to his kitchen I filled a glass of water up, then went to his bathroom to dig up Advil for his ragging headache that was sure to come in the morning.

After double checking the windows, I close the door behind me. I walk down the stairs, wrapping my jacket closer to my body to protect myself from the cold.

I walked home, eyes on the snowy ground. I was sobering up, and couldn’t help but let my thoughts wonder to my silver headed friend.

He…really was in a hurry to die. Back to back A and S class missions weren’t healthy for any shinobi, especially one with Kakashis mind. It was too…broken, off center.

“I swear, I’m going to force him into therapy..” I mumble as I climb my stairs, opening my door.

I draw back, my sensitive nose filling with the smell of iron.

I draw my kunai out, holding it at the ready as I scan my living room. No one.

I move forward, sensing Chakra from the bathroom.

I silently pad towards the door, kunai up and ready to strike. I twist the knob, and walk in with my sharp canines bared and my kunai raise.

My eyes widen, and I drop the kunai.

“K-Kakashi?”

He looked over at me lazily, sitting in my tub as blood flowed out from his side. Saké, was next to him.

“W-what the fuck?! Why didn’t you go to the hospital?!”

I go to grab him, completely sober now, but he just snaps at me, baring his own canines at me and I only now come to realize both masks are gone.

“N-no. No hospital.” He glares, gasping air as he groans and hits his head on the back wall.

“F-fix me. I-I trust you.”

My eyes widen and I look absolutely terrified, “I-I can’t do medical ninjutsu! You know that!”

He grabs my hand, blood making stains on my skin. His mismatching eyes look at me half lidded, “I. trust. you.”

Then he passes out, slumped over himself and bleeding out in my tub. Of fucking course he does.

I groan, looking up as I will myself not to cry.

“You stupid asshole…”

[midnightstar-90]

Little Star

Evan 'Buck' Buckley x AFAB! Reader

Taglist | Request | Wattpad

Main Masterlist | 9-1-1 Masterlist

Requested by @icemansgirl1999: I would like to see a story of brand new dad buck or Eddie and reader (mom) had some complications after the birth and you can run with it how ever you Deem

Summary: Reader has trouble bonding with her and Buck's child.

Warnings: Mention of Breastfeeding, Language, Slight Slut Shaming, Small Season 5 Spoiler, Angst, Baby Fluff, Dad! Buck

A/N: Guys I do not have a child (I do have 4 siblings, and I am the oldest), and I have never had any children. I tried to steer clear of things that might be wrong, and I did do some research, but I mostly just tried to stay in the emotional range of things. So, if I said something wrong you could tell me, if you want (because I would love to know for next time) but please don’t get mad. I really tried my best.

P.S. If you see the name Harley, it was the original name for the couple’s child, but I thought Lana would work best. So…

Buck and Y/N were so happy when they learned Y/N was pregnant. The thoughts of their little "mini-me" ambushed their minds and became the focus of the last 9 months. They did everything a new parent would do before bringing their child into the world. They experimented with names, constantly argued over what the gender was, get excited over every photo of the ultrasound, and they even hosted a baby shower, inviting everyone they loved.

But it seemed that they were so caught up in all the fun stuff about being a parent that they didn't focus on the hardships of being a parent. Lana Buckley was born naturally at about a foot and a half tall and 8 lbs big. She was born perfectly healthy, and everything had seemed fine until Buck had to go back to work.

When Buck went back to work, it seemed like the child Y/N had birthed was a completely different person. Lana refused to eat, sleep, and she cried all day and night. But as soon as Buck got her in her arms, she was the sweet and calm baby the two knew.

This brought major discomfort to Y/N. She couldn't get near her child without her screaming. It made her ask herself, "Is it me?" When Buck would come home, Lana would fall asleep peacefully in his arms, and Y/N watched in despair.

One day, Buck had gone back to work. When Y/N woke up without her boyfriend in the bed next to her, she started her day. She cleaned the house and made breakfast before Lana's cries echoed through the apartment. Y/N walked back upstairs and grabbed her child before bringing her downstairs to make her a bottle. Y/N gently placed the bottle in Lana's mouth, hoping for the infant to gulp it down like she did for Buck, but it only made the baby cry louder.

"What? You don't want the bottle?" Y/N asked her daughter. When the child didn't respond, Y/N looked down at her chest and took a deep breath.

After getting Lana to eat, Lana didn't cry as much, but she still cried. Sure, if she was hungry or needed her diaper changed, she cried, but if Y/N placed her down to go pee, she would cry. If Y/N didn't give her enough attention because she was watching tv or random videos on her phone, she would cry. And worst of all was when she cried for no reason. It seemed like everything she did, made Lana cry.

Y/N had finally gotten Lana asleep after 3 hours of nonstop crying. She carefully bent down and placed the tiny infant into her crib, trying her best not to wake her. When she stood back up, she stretched her upper body with a soft groan and made her way to her bed where she softly plopped down and released an exhausted groan. She quietly prayed for Buck to come home soon since it seemed that he was the "Lana expert". But it seemed that her prayer wasn't answered as Lana began to cry again, and no one was home to put the infant back to sleep, except for her.

Y/N felt herself tear up as she lay face up in her bed. She stared up at the ceiling, listening to the wails of her daughter. Her failure to keep her daughter quiet made her begin to doubt herself as a mother. It was sad to think that after 9 months of excitement, she was now questioning her readiness to be a mother. That and her pounding headache from the noise and slight sleep deprivation brought the girl into a slight depression.

Y/N's thoughts were soon cut off by a loud knock from the front door. Lana had yet to stop crying, which made getting up to answer the door much harder. With a groan, Y/N sat up in her shared bed and rubbed the tiredness from her eyes. She shuffled her feet, across the wooden floors, over to Lana’s crib and picked up the infant.

A sharp pain spread through her body as she held the infant in her arms. She hadn’t completely recovered from giving birth, seeing as it hadn't even been a month yet, and because of Harley, she hadn’t had time to relax, leading to headaches and random bursts of pain in her back, legs, and arms. She was tired, to say the least, and found herself ready to kill to get some shut-eye.

Another knock erupted from the door. “Okay, I’m coming!” Y/N yelled over the screams of her child. With a tired sigh, she went down the steps and over to the door. Lana still cried in her arms, so Y/N began patting her back softly as she whispered calming noises into her ear. It helped the situation a little bit, by calming down the cries, but it didn't stop them. She opened the door to find none other than her mother waiting at the door with her dark-shaded sunglasses.

Y/N hadn't talked to her mother since she announced her pregnancy. Y/N grew up wealthy due to her father's family's long history of wealth. And her mom... Let's just say that the money was the reason she stayed. So, when her mother discovered that her daughter was to inherit her father's small fortune, her mother suddenly began to care for her well-being.

Her mother chased every man in Y/N's life away due to her obnoxious judging and rude comments. Y/M/N would claim that they were only with her for the money. So, when she announced her pregnancy, you know her mother wasn't happy.

But unlike her mother, Y/N didn't care about money. She loved Evan and didn't need his money to feel that way. And when her mother began harassing Buck, she knew it was time for her to go. So, Y/N cut her mother off, and much like the cockroach that she is, she was back. Probably broke up with her wealthy boyfriend and is in need of cash.

“Mom?” Y/N asked, surprised as she bounced a screaming Lana in her arms.

Her mother snatched off her shades and said, “Yes, it is me. After you rudely blocked me from your life, I became concerned. So, here I am to check up on you.” Y/N rolled her eyes at all the bull shit from her mother’s mouth. “I would have been here sooner if I knew my precious grand-baby was here already.” Y/N scoffed as her mother pushed past her and entered their apartment.

She walked over to the kitchen island, showing off a small gift bag that hung on her arm. "I brought gifts," Y/M/N said, placing the gift bag on the marble surface.

'Gifts?' Y/N asked herself. "Hmm, maybe she doesn't need money."

“Well, mom, to be honest, I didn’t think I could take 9 months of your kind words... I’m still not ready for them. And before you come in here, flaunting your unearned money, I think you owe Evan an apology.” I said, closing the door and walking into the kitchen.

“I don’t know what you mean. If this is about the last time, I was just trying to help,” she defensively said.

Y/N rolled my eyes and glared at her mother. “I don’t think that saying that Buck would be a terrible father and then telling me to tell him the baby wasn't his was very helpful,” She retorted.

“He wasn’t prepared to be a father, and he still isn't. He's a childish buffoon, and now it seems like he’s a deadbeat.”

“Buck is not a deadbeat. You know nothing about it,” Y/N spoke, defending Buck to her mother.

“Look around, Y/N. You are holding a newborn baby who hasn't stopped crying since you open the door. I mean, come on, sweetheart. You look terrible. Have you been getting any sleep? And where is Evan?” She asked, raising her eyebrow as she gave her daughter a stern look. Y/N scoffed at her mother's words.

“Buck is a good- no- a great father who works 24-hour shifts. He’s a firefighter, ma,” Y/N said, putting emphasis on the "great" part. She began to become frustrated with her mother as her judgmental side began to express itself.

“Now, why is that man working when he has a newborn baby and a sleep-deprived girlfriend at home?”

“Because unlike you, mother, we have bills. And there is no rich second party to pay for those bills,” Y/N said.

My mother’s eyes followed me as she said, “You have your father's money. Does Buck even know about your trust fund?"

"Yes, mom," Y/N said with an aggravated sigh. "He knows, and we both agreed that we're going to use that money to better Harley's life. But we're not going to quit our jobs for it. Buck is better than that. He's not you," She finished.

"Is that any way to talk to a guest- better yet- your mother?" Y/M/N asked, offended at her daughter's words.

Y/N's brain was trying to process all of her emotions, but it all overloaded her brain. Between the constant crying from Harley and the nagging from her mother, Y/N was fed up. "Hmm, let me think..." She began to act like she was thinking before answering her mother, "You're more like an unwanted guest. A party crasher. No one asked for you to be here, and I would love it if you left."

"What is the matter with you?" Y/M/N asked, now confused by her daughter's random outburst.

“My issue? You want to know what is wrong with me, mother? You’re what’s wrong with me. You treat me like shit, yet you have the nerve to put your two cents into my life. You’ve never cared about me. You only began to care when dad died and left me his fortune. In my opinion, you’re a gold-digging, 2-timing slut who can’t stand to see anyone but herself happy.” Y/N snapped, and suddenly, everything went quiet. No nagging from her mother. No screaming from her daughter. Y/N’s breath turned heavy as she let out all the pent-up tiredness and anger she had been feeling this last week, and the tears running down her face made her feel as if she was drowning in a pool of her own misfortune.

“I just wanted what’s best for you,” her mother said, releasing a tear to roll down her face. The way her mother spoke as if she cared made Y/N feel like her mother was blind to how her actions made her daughter feel. What her words did to her. Her life was like a broken record when she was around her mother, and she couldn't have that for her daughter. She never wanted Lana to feel the way she did, growing up.

“I think you should go,” Y/N whispered, laying Lana’s head down on her shoulder. Y/N's mother just stood there, wide-eyed with her mouth hung open.

The sound of keys entering the keyhole lock sounded in the kitchen as the door opened, revealing Evan. He walked in, confused, seeing his girlfriend upset with Lana in my arms, crying, and Y/N's mother standing across from her, shocked. “What’s going on?” Buck said, dropping his ‘LAFD’ duffel bag on the ground next to the door.

Y/M/N angrily grabbed her purse before giving her daughter one last look. “Nothing. I was just leaving,” she said, storming out of the apartment and slamming the door on her way out.

Buck looked at his girlfriend, and he pointed at the closed door. Y/N rolled her eyes and waved her mother's actions off as she began to make Lana a bottle. Buck came up behind her and kissed both Y/N's and Lana's foreheads. He then held Y/N as he slowly swayed the girls in his arms.

“Hey,” Buck said, turning her head to face him. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Whatever she told you is not true,” he said, pulling me into his chest.

“I don’t think I’m fit to be a mother,” Y/N mumbled into Buck’s shirt.

Buck's face scrunched up in confusion as he simply moved the girl away from his chest. With a finger, he moved her head up to face him. Buck scoffed and shook his head as he softly whispered, “Babe, what are you talking about? You’re an amazing mother.”

Y/N shook my head ‘no.' She didn't believe Buck's words. How could she? She only felt that way because of how Lana acted when he wasn't around. He wouldn't have any idea of what she was going through.

"Of course you are. You just need to sleep. Your hormones are regulating, and I know I haven't been home, but I'm here now. Let me take some things off your hands," Buck said, taking Lana out of Y/N's arms and into his. "Go take a nap, okay? I got this," Buck said, motioning to the upstairs area with his free hand.

Y/N knew that a nap wouldn't change how she felt about the situation, but she was tired from all the crying, so she did as Buck instructed and made her way upstairs.

Buck heard every sad sigh and sniffle from the girl as she walked up the steps. It hurt him to see how much pain Y/N was going through. He had seen how she was with Danny, Chris, and Jee. And that's how Buck knew she was a fantastic caregiver. He just needed to find some way to show her that she was still a good caregiver, but he didn't know how.

While Y/N got the rest she needed, Buck was downstairs taking care of Lana. He picked up the bottle that Y/N had made earlier, and he carefully placed it into Harley's mouth. Lana began to suck on the bottle. Buck chuckled as he watched the infant chug down the milk. "Yeah, you like that, huh?" He asked. And within 30 seconds, she was already a fourth done.

"Someone was hungry," Buck said as Lana began to slow down. Buck moved away from the kitchen and made his way into the living room with Lana still in his arms, sucking on her bottle. He looked down at his daughter, who stared up at him with her beautiful Y/E/C eyes as her small arms clutched the bottle. Buck couldn't help but see Y/N whenever he looked at his child.

He smiled as he studied the child's face. He began to notice that the baby had Y/N's smile and her nose that Buck loved to boop when they played around. His smile brightened as he noticed the mixture between his and Y/N's eyes. Lana had Buck's eye shape, but she carried the color that made Buck lose himself when he looked into Y/N's.

Like always, whenever Lana finished her bottle, she struggled to keep her eyes open. Buck removed the bottle, and her mouth opened wide as she let out a yawn. "Huh, I guess mommy wasn't the only one that's sleepy," Buck said before moving himself off the couch.

He made his way upstairs, with Lana on the brink of falling asleep. He walked over to Lana's crib before turning to look at his girlfriend. He looked at her with a sad smile before turning back to place a now sleep Lana into her crib.

"There you go," Buck whispered to the sleeping child. "Was that so bad? Why can't you do this for mommy?" He asked, earning no response, only the sound of soft snores. "You know your mommy loves you. She's just having a hard time. This is new for all of us. She's just taking it harder than everyone else."

Buck looked down at his daughter with a frown. He let out a sad sigh before making his way to the shower. But before anything, he made his way to his bed, leaning over, and placing a kiss on Y/N's temple.

The 118 sat back and relaxed while waiting for Bobby's special dinner. Bobby had put together a little celebratory dinner for the newest edition in the Buckley family, to which Chimney responded with, "Where was my celebratory dinner, Cap?" Everyone laughed at Chimney, thinking he was joking, but he was still a little hurt by it.

"No one thought that Buck would ever make it this far into a relationship," Hen joked, earning an eye roll from Buck.

While Bobby cooked, Eddie, Chimney, Hen, and Buck all sat together on the upper-level couches. They sat back and relaxed as the four of them joked around with each other and shared about their time away from work like they normally did during their free time.

"I don't know," Eddie said, looking down, in thought. "Chris and I have always been able to talk to each other, but now he's secretive. He doesn't tell me anything. We don't play together as much anymore. And not to mention, he's never home. Where does he even go?"

"Um, I think him and Y/N have been hanging together. Before she had the baby, I caught the two of them just hanging out together, but if it's recent, I don't know," Buck said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Ah," Eddie responded with a nod of his head.

"So, what's been going on with you, Buck-a-roo?" Chimney asked. Everyone turned to Buck, waiting for a response.

Buck shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to say. Before answering Chimney, he thought for a second, "Y/N's been doubting being a mother."

Chimney looked around the firehouse. It seemed he was searching for something. "What are you doing?" Hen asked as everyone began to look up at Chimney with confused looks.

"I'm looking for a small infant that resembles a mixture of Buck and Y/N. I love your sister, Buck, but raising a baby while looking for the mother of your child can be stressful. Take it from the man who toured the country while documenting his daughter's firsts in different states," Chimney said.

"Y/N wouldn't do that," Buck paused. "She's just so stressed with everything, and it doesn't help that both Lana and her mother have been stressing her out lately. I came home the other day, and she was crying. Her mother had just left and Lana hadn't stopped crying until I got ahold of her. Not to mention, she looked like she was about to pass out. I love Y/N and I hate seeing her struggle. I know she's a good mother, but I just don't know how to show her," Buck said to his coworkers.

"Do you think Y/N and Lana have trouble bonding?" Eddie asked, leaning forward in his seat. Buck shrugged once more.

"Well, take it from me. When your child doesn't want to bond with you, it really does take a toll on you. And I understand that Chris is getting older, and that's what kids do when they get older, but Lana is dependent on you and Y/N, and for her to not want Y/N's help make be what's upsetting her," Eddie said.

"But how do I help them bond?"

"You seem to get along great with Lana. Give them some time together. Lana will one day realize that she needs her mother, and she'll allow her mother into her life," Hen said with a calming tone.

"Yeah, and if it gets too hard for her, guide her through it. You know what Lana likes. Instead of taking Lana from Y/N, suggest something that might help. But I have faith in Y/N," Chimney suggested.

Y/n walked into her apartment with Lana's car seat in one arm and groceries in the other. She struggled as she waddled to the kitchen, placing the car seat on the counter before setting the groceries on the floor. Y/N let out a sigh of relief as the release of the pressure took over her.

Lana began crying; luckily, it wasn't as loud as the other day. Y/N unbuckled Lana and pulled her up to her chest. She began to pat the baby's back as she tried to calm her down with some calming noises. But Lana didn't stop.

"Oh, no. Not again," Y/N muttered to herself, as she was now bouncing the child in her arms.

Just as Y/N was about to give up. Buck came back in from his run. "Hey, babe," Buck said, taking out his earbuds. Buck lightly jogged over to the two, kissing both of them on the head. "Why is it that whenever I come home, you're always crying?" Buck asked his daughter.

Instead of a response from Lana, Buck receives one from Y/N. "I don't know why she's crying. I fed her in the car. I changed her at the store. She's had a nap. I don't think she likes me, Buck," Y/N began to pout.

"She likes you. Crying is just a thing that babies do,” Buck said, trying to reassure his girlfriend. Y/N sighed, looking down. She didn't feel that the reason for Lana's constant crying was because it was natural. Sure, crying is natural for babies, but it felt like Lana never stops crying whenever the two are together, by themselves.

"I'm going to take a quick shower, and when I get out, we can make lunch and go for a walk or something," Buck said. He kissed Y/N's temple before he began to walk away. But he stopped when he heard Y/N begin to speak again. He turned around, looking at the girl as she spoke.

"But what am I supposed to do about her?" Y/N pouted as Lana cried against her chest.

Buck shrugged. "Try soothing her. You're a great singer. Try singing her a lullaby," Buck said as he made his way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Y/N took a deep breath, looking down at her daughter, who seemed to be in distress, with worried eyes. She decided to take Buck's advice. She had also seen other mothers do it with their children when she was out in public. It seemed to work then, so why not now? "Shh... It's all going to be okay." Y/N rocked the baby as she whispered some calming words into her daughter's ear. Her words seemed to work since the girl had stopped crying.

Lana stared up at her mother, emotionless. Y/N smiled at her daughter as a soft tear rolled down her face. She was happy. She had finally made progress with her daughter. Lana began to coo in her ear, making Y/N laugh in excitement. Y/N slowly swayed the girl around in her arms as she hummed the words to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are.

Y/N repeated it a couple more times before hearing a small laugh from the child in her arms. "You like that?" Y/N asked Lana as she laughed some more. Y/N sang it once more, but this time she danced around the room with Lana in her arms.

Unknowingly, Buck had been watching the whole thing from the bathroom. He had yet to get into the shower, but when he heard the harmonious sound of his girlfriend's voice, he couldn't help but see what was happening. So, he slowly cracked the door open, careful not to interrupt, and he watched.

Every time she sang the song with a smile, Buck's smile got even wider. His advice from his friends worked. He helped Y/N out, but he didn't take over. He just hoped that it could always be like this.

When Y/N was done singing, she began tickling the child earning bursts of loud laughter. Buck took this as a good sign and returned to his shower.

When he got out, Buck left the bathroom, dressed, and ready to go on a walk. He had on a grey tank top and black workout shorts. As he left the steamy room he was met with Y/N kneeling infront of a stroller, snapping Lana into it. Both wore jean shorts but Y/N wore a teal crop top, and Lana had on a pink shirt that read 'Princess' in gold letters and matching shades.

"Are you ready to go?" Y/N asked Lana in her baby voice. Lana laughed, making Y/N clap her hands as she copied her daughter's actions.

Buck cleared his throat, getting Y/N's attention. Y/N looked over at Buck with a slight jump, scared from not noticing Buck. She shyly looked away, embarrassed.

"So, you too made up?" Buck asked with a knowing smirk.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N responded, "Yes. In fact, you were right. Babies are known for crying; all she needed was to be soothed." Buck enjoyed the beaming smile on her face as she said that.

"Huh."

"Yep, I sang a little toon, and from then on, I hadn't heard a peep. We got dressed, and now, here we are," Y/N said happily.

"Well, that's good... Shall we get going?" Buck asked, pointing over to the door. Y/N nodded in response, getting up off the ground. Buck moved to grab the stroller, and the happy couple happily made their way out of the house with their newborn for a nice afternoon walk.

A/N: I am so sorry it took me so long to write this. I do plan on writing more often. I had a goal to publish this before school started back up again, but that didn't work out. So, my 2023 New Years' resolution is to get to the point where I publish at least 2 fics a week. Once again, I am so sorry. Please 🙏🏼 don't be mad.

If your user is in red, I could not find you. Please feel free to contact me if you'd like to be re-added or removed from my taglist. Taglist: @mrspeacem1nusone @girlnred @okiegirl24 @babypink224221 @iamasimpingh0e @Virginia @alexxavicry @kaitieskidmore1 @vanessaw05 @bellarkeselection @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @icemansgirl1999 @esposadomd @buckysmainhxe @sunwardsss

[sandwichfordinner]

Hi its me strawberry anon *greedily eats ALL OF UR WORK* i missed u <3 so ill have a request

Can u do naib, ganji, luca, and edgar meeting their GN! S/O again after getting stuck in the game? its like us when u quit and came back frfr

Hello strawberry anon!🍓 Thank you for the support and thank you requesting! Here is your meal🥘

Tw: angsty at the beginning

˖ ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.

ɴᴀɪʙ

It has been 4 days since he last saw you in a match and you didn’t return. He was so worried he thought he lost you forever. Even in matches he was searching everywhere in the sacred heart hospital where he lastly saw you. He didn’t find you. He lost so many important people in the army and now you too.

He hasn’t really eaten, and some of the people were trying to cheer him up like mostly Emma, but he was always with that tired blank stare.

He even struggled with sleeping.. Your warmth.. Was gone.. Well thats what he thought.

It was that day that you got back, but badly injured, you had dried blood on ur face and head and scratches on your hands and legs. You were barely walking. The moment you opened the big door , Patricia saw you. She was passing , she flinched at the sudden opening of the door revealing your shaking figure trying to walk. You tried so hard staying in two legs but your legs gave up. She caught you from fainting and immediately screamed Emily’s and Naib’s name. Emily was the first one to see you and she quickly ran up to you , holding your tired figure. No so long after Naib came downstairs and when he saw you his eyes widened. He quickly ran and hugged you, crying. He stuttered and sobbed.

You are okay now, just two-three small scars on your body but they aren’t visible. He is so glad that you are back, you have no idea how worried he was for you.. You’re back..

Gᴀɴᴊɪ

Oh poor Ganji..

He wasn’t the same. He didn’t even touch his food most of the times. He just lost another person that meant a lot to him, and stayed by his side through this nightmare. His mother… and now you?? He cannot believe this. 6 days you haven’t returned.. What happened and where are you?? You and two other people had to search for some food. That was a rule in the manor. If you don’t want to go and find some food everyone will starve. And going out of the manor was quite dangerous too.. This isn’t some 5 star hotel that gives you tons of delicious food every week no no.. Find by yourself outside the manor or starve.

He began to sob quietly in his room all alone. Again..

There was a knock heard outside his door. But he didn’t manage to answer, and who stays that long, it’s 3:17 AM? (who is gonna tell him)

,,Ganji.. it’s me’’. Wait.. That voice that slipped out of the person’s throat was.. you?!

He quickly opened the door with widened eyes. You were standing in front of him with a soft smile, but little scratches on your face. You held some fruits for him in a basket.

He quickly hugged you almost making you drop the basket with the fruits, he started to shake and silently sob. He tried to talk but you hugged him back, telling him to not speak because he was about to have a breakdown.

It’s really you..

Lᴜᴄᴀ

He was laying on the sheets of his bed looking at the ceiling.

He felt empty. He couldn’t really explain it with words.

Luca is one of the energetic and fun people in the manor but since you were missing things went quite the opposite.

He was working on his inventions, but every time he messed up making him feel more and more mixed feeling of disappointment, anger and sadness.

You were last seen outside the manor , near the garden where Emma plants. At least that’s what Eli said.

What happened? Where are you? Those questions were roaming his head.

He started tearing up, saying bunch of ,,I miss you,, or ,,please come back,, . He curled like a ball on his bed, having a big pain in his stomach from worry.

It has been three hours and Luca was sleeping. He opened his eyes and got up from his bed, almost fainting from low iron. He was barely walking down the halls so he can get a glass of water. He looked at the big windows to see it was night time. What time is it??..

As he went in the little kitchen where the people shared , he saw a figure drinking some water. It looked… familiar. He got a closer look and it was his s/o…

You quickly noticed him and smiled warmly at him. Is he dreaming? What is going on.

He was staring at you with widened eyes, his words were stuck in his throat, he couldn’t speak. You gave him that ‘I will explain you later’ look, which he quickly understood (is that even possible or..)

You gave him a tight hug , letting him to spill all his emotions on you.. He returned the hug more tightly than you, crying. He didn’t want to let you go. Just for a minute..

Eᴅɢᴀʀ

‘Where are you?’ , that’s what he thought while he was about to start a match.

He felt more closed than before.

As the match started , he was the first one to be chased. He did really badly , he barely kited 20 seconds. He was tired, and didn’t even felt like walking. Before Geisha could pick him up he started crying. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, his body couldn’t move. She noticed him and just stared at him. She quietly sighed, meaning she was apologising, tied him in balloons and placed him on the rocket chair. He wasn’t even struggling.

Tears couldn’t stop falling down his cheeks, he was looking down at the floor, while his teammates were screaming at him ,,You’re on your own!’’ from afar. Michiko stayed silent. It was obvious that no one was going to rescue him.

He flew back to the manor.

When he was exiting from the match room, he saw you sitting on a old wooden chair waiting. Were you waiting for him?? What.. WHAT

You looked up and smiled at him, you had bandages on your hands.

,,Edgar.’’ Your quiet and sweet voice made him feel.. what is that? Sad and happy?

,,I-is this really you..?” Edgar barely spoke, you stood up and held his hands.. Oh they had blood on them, he even had scars from them.. His outfit was dirty looking and a little torn.

You softly looked at him. ,,What happened love? Let’s go to your room and talk and heal your wounds, yeah?’’ You kissed his knuckles making him feel butterflies in his stomach.

,,I-I..” he was so confused. ,,Please..?’’

,,Of course” you kissed his wet cheek ,,I will tell you everything, and I promise I won’t leave you again.’’

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

hi Gigi! how about number 2 for the prompt game?

Hi! If you had sent this ask yesterday morning, I would still be in a happy weekend mood and you might get a cute story about Mickey getting attacked by a swarm of bees on a picnic date or something, but unfortunately im answering this on my lunch break, so enjoy the emo vibes

2. Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.

The nightmares only started after Terry died. 

Before, Ian liked to joke that Mickey was a professional sleeper. He’d lay down and be sucked into a deep, dark unconsciousness within minutes. He was a peaceful sleeper, curled up on his side and breathing softly through his nose. 

On the rare nights when sleep was evading Ian for completely normal reasons, the way it had since he was a kid and stayed up all night worrying about how to tell Fiona he needed new shoes, he’d learned that just being in Mickey’s presence was like a melatonin ooze. He could wrap himself gently around Mickey’s plaint form and bury his face between Mickey’s shoulder blades, aligning his breathing with his boyfriend’s until sleep claimed him.

But the night they found Terry sitting pathetically with a bag over his head, Mickey fell asleep like normal but shot up and out of Ian’s hold after just a hour or so, miraculously not waking his sleeping husband. 

He’d huffed out uncertainly, reaching up to this own chest to feel his racing heartrate. His hands were shaking, and he could feel a headache coming on, so he got out of bed to splash some water on his face. 

Mickey got good at sneaking out of their bed without waking Ian, so good that it wasn’t until Spring was fully blooming and Ian was careening into a seasonal manic episode and they decided to see his doctor about the next day when Ian noticed at all. 

He was awake most of the night, mind racing beyond his usual anxiety, and counted a total of 5 times that Mickey woke up during the night. 

Sometime before dawn, Ian finally confronted him about it. 

“You’re not sleeping, are you?” 

Mickey shrugged evasively. 

“Is that why you’ve been so…” moody, sullen, miserable for the last month or so since you found Terry. 

“Could be” Mickey responded evasively, staring up at the ceiling. 

Ian leaned over and finally turned on their bedside lamp, silently admitting that neither of them were getting anymore sleep that night.

“What’d you think is wrong?” Ian asked curiously, laying back down with his head propped up on one hand shielding Mickey’s body with his own as his husband ran both hands roughly down his face, scratching satisfyingly against his couple days old stubble. 

Ian waited patiently for a response, knowing it would come.

“Shitty dreams” Mickey finally admitted quietly. “Terry, and my uncles, and my oldest brothers - the ones who died. And Mandy, she’s there sometimes.”

“Memories? Or is it just-” Ian asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah” Mickey said, licking his lips. “Memories that are all mushed together, but I’m around - I don’t know, 8 or 9 in all of them.”

“Why’re you a kid?” Ian asked confusedly. 

“I have no fuckin’ idea,” Mickey answered. He sounded so incredibly tired, just soaked in bone-deep exhaustion that had him on the verge of frustrated tears. “I broke my hand when I was 8, and my hand’s broken in all the dreams. It’s broken and it-it hurts so bad, Ian-”

“Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.” Ian hushed, bringing his hand down to sooth the heated skin at Mickey’s temples, like the could root out where the pressure was building. 

Mickey finally looked at him, “what are they doing right now?”

His husbands words gutted Ian, and all he could could do is lean over and kiss Mickey’s forehead, pulling the two of them closer together. He got confirmation when Mickey took the opportunity to wrap his arms around Ian’s waist, keeping him close.

“When I go to the doctor today, we should see if he’ll talk to you. See if we can get you some sleeping pills.” 

“I don’t want to-”

“Not forever” Ian cut off. “But you need some sleep. You’ve been miserable for a while now, haven’t you?” 

Mickey didn’t respond, but Ian could feel him nod. 

“Okay, so we get you something to get you to sleep for a while and hopefully once you’re better rested and your nerves aren’t so fried the nightmares go away.”

Mickey nodded again, then he spoke so quietly Ian barely heard it.

“I hate this.”

Ian took a steadying breath, staring out their bedroom window as the sky lit up in a light pink color. His chest ached and for the first time he understood what it meant to have your heart living outside of your body. 

“I know” he said soothingly, feeling Mickey sag slightly against him. “’m sorry.”

“I love you.”

Sorry 😭 I hope you liked it <3

Prompt Game Fun

[llama529orange]

Part 4.Part 5.Part 6

Warning:angst

•For the past few hours, you’ve been staring at the ceiling of your room, embarrassed, while the true owner laughs at you. You actually got sick, and now you don’t have to pretend anymore that you’re feeling unwell to Riddle. The true antagonist laughed at you for three hours because of that while you tried to stop her from teasing and mocking you.

•Meanwhile, as you suffer from fever, nausea, headache, and muscle pain, Riddle visits you every time, checking if you’re alright and bringing you tea and food, just like his mother would when he got sick. Riddle stays with you, taking your temperature while feeding you chicken soup.

•"Come on, Rosie, you need to eat and take your pills" Riddle says, struggling to spoon-feed you as you refuse to eat, not feeling well and hating the bitter taste of the pills.

•"Nooo, I'm not hungry, and the pills taste terrible!"

•"But, Rosie, you're sick. You need to take the pills" Riddle tries to convince you for 20 minutes to eat. "Come on, Rosie! You need to follow the rules—"

•You glance at Riddle, finally taking a bite of the soup. You love Riddle, but you've had enough of listening to his rules, so you start eating the chicken soup, though you have trouble swallowing it.

•Riddle smiles, relieved that you finally agreed to eat. He continues feeding you, even as you protest. After you finish the soup, he says, "Now it's time to take your pills."

•You look at him with an awkward smile, shaking your head. "Noooo!" The whole mansion hears your refusal, just like every time Riddle visits.

•Riddle sighs, clearly having had enough, and tries again. "Come on, Rosie, for me?" he asks, using the same words and expression that always make you change your mind.

•Pouting, you finally give in. "Alright, alright! You win!" Riddle smiles victoriously as you take the pills. Looking at him, you ask, "Riddle, do you promise to come tomorrow?"

•Riddle smiles innocently. "Of course, Rosie!" he promises, ready for the next visit.

•But today was strange. Riddle didn’t visit you, and you thought it was odd. He always came to take care of you, talk about rules, and make sure you took your medicine. But not today. You thought maybe he was running late, though Riddle is never late. Maybe something came up, but the feeling that something bad had happened wouldn’t leave you. You grew more anxious, wondering what could have happened and when Riddle would visit you again.

•You woke up without realizing you had fallen asleep, only to be gently shaken by your waiting maid, who had information for you.

•"My lady, I have news about his young majesty," she said, waking you fully. You immediately sat up, worried. "What happened to Riddle?!"

•"Her Majesty, the Queen, informed the lord, your father, that Riddle would be taking a break from studying with you."

•That was enough to know what had happened. Her Majesty must have found out that Riddle had been sneaking out to play with Trey and Chenya, and she had likely scolded, yelled at, or even screamed at him for such forbidden behavior. His private lessons had probably been canceled, and now you couldn't study together anymore for who knows how long.

•"Thank you. You can leave now, please," you said quietly. The maid bowed her head and left the room, leaving you alone.

•That's when you broke down, crying. You had failed to protect Riddle, failed to help him keep his secret from his mother. Now, all you could do was curl up in bed, sick and crying, thinking about how much you had failed. It was your plan, your determination, but you had gotten sick, unable to help, leaving Riddle all alone.

•All your fears came true. The hope that things would be fine, the hope that you could save him from this, had shattered. You cried, curling up tighter, hugging your pillow. Your sickness worsened, but you couldn’t care less. Riddle's small amount of freedom had been taken away, and now, even the true antagonist was devastated, crying alongside you, having lost their friend.

•But for a moment, you thought that maybe not everything was lost. While Riddle might not have his freedom for now, the Queen might use you as a spy, and perhaps that could help Riddle. It would be difficult, but you were willing to do whatever it took to help Riddle see Trey and Chenya again. You would have to wait to see Riddle, but that didn’t matter you were ready for the challenge.

•For now, though, you had to focus on getting better, making a plan to protect Riddle from his mother's tyranny, and making sure you both got the happy ending you hoped for. But even as you thought about all of this, you couldn’t help but wonder what Riddle was doing now and how he was feeling.

[jenniferjareauwife]

r comforting jj on rosalyn’s birthday☹️

I Miss Her So Much

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader

category: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: mentions of suicide

word count: 870

summary: it's rosalyn's birthday so you're comforting your girlfriend who misses her sister

I made sure to wake up at 5 today so I could be there for JJ when she woke up. We always took this day off since it was Rosalyn's birthday. JJ always took it pretty hard and I wanted to help her any way I could.

It wasn't even 30 minutes past 5 when JJ began to stir. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me, pressing kisses to the back of her shoulder. "Good morning my love." She didn't say anything, just turned around in my arms and buried her face in my chest. I didn't say anything else, knowing she just preferred silence right now. I rubbed her back slowly, holding her as close as possible so she knew I was there for her.

Another hour and a half passed before she moved again. This time she laid down on her back and just stared at the ceiling. I saw a single tear roll down her cheek so I wiped it away and left a kiss in its place before resting my head on her chest and cuddling up to her again. She wrapped her arms around me tightly like if she let go she wouldn't ever see me again. "Don't go." She pleaded quietly.

"I'm not going anywhere." I assured her, kissing her collarbone and trying to get comfortable in her iron grip.

Another 20 minutes passed before she said something else. "I miss her so much." Her voice wavered and cracked with emotion. "Everyday." She squeezed me even tighter.

"I know honey." I struggled to breathe with her hold on me but it was ok. I just wanted to help her. This wasn't about me at all.

"I just...I just walked into the bathroom and she was dead. And I just stood there." I felt a few of her tears drip down onto my head. "She killed herself and I could've done something, I could've-"

"No honey. You can't blame yourself for that. You just can't. It wasn't your fault." Her grip loosened on me a bit so I readjusted so I was fully on top of her, lifting my head up so she could see me. "It wasn't your fault. I know you feel like you could've done more but there were a million little reasons why she did it. None of them were you, ok?" She nodded and I wiped away more of her tears. "Now what can I do to help you my love?"

"I want a bagel sandwich...coffee...and cuddles." She has to think about it for a bit. I was so proud of her for wanting to eat, the past 5 years she hasn't eaten anything at all on this day.

"Ok baby I'll go make you some food. Do you wanna come with me or do you wanna stay here?" I caressed her cheek and kissed her nose, knowing it always made her smile.

"I kinda just wanna stay here." Her voice wasn't shaky anymore but she sounded so tired and drained that it broke my heart. "Is that ok?"

"Of course that's ok." I kissed her forehead. "You just lay here and look pretty while I go make your breakfast." She blushed, making me smile while I got up and left our bedroom.

I made her food as fast as I could, wanting to get back to her as soon as possible. I made the bacon first, making sure it was extra greasy before roasting the bagel and scrambling the eggs. After that I poured her a cup of coffee and put in one cream and two sugars, just the way she liked it. I grabbed the tray for breakfast in bed and then made my way back upstairs.

"Hey baby." I said quietly as I shut the bedroom door. "I got your food."

"Thank you so much." She sat up a bit and I was able to see that she had been crying while I was gone.

"Of course. Anything for you, you know that." She grabbed my hand and squeezed it, not letting go as she ate. My heart melted and broke at the same time. She just wanted to know that I wasn't gonna leave. "I'm staying." I whispered. "I promise, I'm staying." She looked at me with a sad look on her face before leaning into me. I kissed the top of her head and made sure she ate.

"I don't want to be alone...I don't think I can be alone today, you know?" She looked up at me, hoping I would understand.

"I get it." I told her truthfully. "And you don't have to be alone. I'm right here." I let go of her hand to stroke her hair. "I'm right here honey."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here with me on her birthday the past five years. I know it can't be easy." She took a sip of her coffee and she smiled when she noticed I had memorized her coffee order.

"Of course. I'll always be here for you my love." She smiled and kissed my shoulder, wrapping her arms around my waist and hugging me tightly.

"I love you so much."

"I love you more."

[mx-pastelwriting]

Million Dollar Gaze (Chapter 1)

Tony Stark x FM! Reader

Summary: Starting at your new internship you could help but be shy at the fact Tony Stark is looking at you.

Warning: Use of Y/N, Intern, First day at work, Stressed reader, Tony Stark staring at you, Bruce is there

Chapters list

Also on A03 & Wattpad: Links on Masterlist

Breathing in the cold, dry air of the morning, all of your waking senses were welcomed by the blaring sound of the alarm that read '5:45 a.m.'. Questioning to why you had set it so early, taking a second for everything to finally click, causing your body to be in motion.

Shooting out of bed and into the small bathroom, cursing at your past self for only giving you fifteen minutes to get ready. Starting you first day at your internship after months of applying to any company, finally getting accepted into one of the big companies. Stark Industries. Crying when you got the email, now wanting to cry at the hour compute to the tall building.

Having no time to care about a detailed appearance, moving quickly to put on your planned outfit. Though it didn’t pay much, making you living ways away for a cheap price, the only thing that really wanted was the experience, hoping it would lend a foot in the door to a job position.

Racing down the creaky wood stairs, finishing off the outfit, running out the door, hoping to get something near by on your lunch break. Struggling to close the front door before locking it, then rushing to the subway, dreading the morning rush.

Standing in the packed cart, achingly wishing for somewhere to sit, though it wouldn’t before long having to get on a bus after exiting the subway. Savoring the quick rest while looking out the worn-out window, seeing something shiny flying around in the sky. As it got closer, you saw the famous Iron Man, Tony Stark. Reading the time, ‘6:40 a.m.’, knowing you get there on time, though still making a mental note to set the alarm earlier. 

Coming to the stop moving with the few people who also got off, trying not to trip over the steps and sidewalk. Relief washing over you making it to the Stark Tower, walking in, noticing first the ceiling. Extended beyond what you thought was possible. The cylinder-shaped ceiling allowing you to see through to all levels of the building. Quickly snapping out of your awe, making way to the lady at the front desk, greeted with her kind face and smile. 

Next in line watching as her smile never changed, even when it was your turn. Giving yourself a second before speaking. "Hello, I’m here for Stark's internship." She nodded, holding a smile that never dropped.

"Name." You felt your cheeks go red before quickly saying, "Oh, right, Y/N, L/N." Her smile extended a bit at the situation, though it didn’t help the embarrassment that went through your body. 

"Here you go, just go through the door and go down the hall; it's the second door to your right." Handing the badge to you before pointing out where the door was. "Thank you," saying lastly voice a little shaky, still embarrassed.

Feeling your body turn cold walking down the hall, knowing this would be a long day. Opening the door to a small crowd, some of whom looked up, smiling briefly, before quietly rushing to a corner seat. The eyes that stared at you didn’t last long as someone else entered the room—a woman who wore a long black pencil dress holding a tablet. 

"I hope this is everyone," she said while walking in the middle of the room before explaining the job. Watching as she pulled a small device that looked almost like a pager out from under her tablet "You will carry this with you at all times; it is how you will know where we are and what people require." motioning to the table to the side that was filled with the devices.

"All you have to do is read what the people need and where they are, get it, and then bring it to them." Her words were quick, allowing her to tap something on the tablet screen. "Good luck on your first day; clock out is at 9 p.m.," saying lastly, leaving everyone to move to the table. Walking over behind the group, finally getting one turning it on just a minute later, everyone's device went off; they quickly moved out of the room, then yours beeped. ‘Coffee, 3rd floor: work station 4b’ "Time to move." sighing under your breath.

Starting off with breakfast and coffee orders, nothing being too hectic from others taking the work loud as well, though when lunch rolled around, it was enough to distract you. The device beeped just as you handed the person's lunch to them. ‘Burgers & Fires, 70th Floor, noticing it didn’t have a work station number.

Thinking no more of it, exiting the building to find the closest place to get a burger. It didn’t take long to order and bring back the food, though almost getting run over a few times as the burgers came first. 

Finally, making back into the building, checking in with the front desk. Entering the elevator and pressing the 70th floor, taking a minute before it moved with a voice saying, "Request approved." The accented voice spooked you a little, noticing the camera in the corner move. Tightening your grip on the burger bag, watching the levels rise higher and higher, wondering who these were for. Why did you need a request to get up there?

The steel doors open to the sight of a wide room with a long desk supporting various devices. "You can put the food next to you." almost not hearing the man’s voice, looking at the source. Meeting the famous man himself, Tony Stark.

Tinkering with something in his hand, looking up to point at the counter next to you, setting the bag down looking over the small snack bar that it was connected to. "What did you get me?" jumping at his close voice, standing right next to you, turning around meeting his brown eyes.

"Oh, um, I got two regulars, two doubles, and two fries." A big smile grew on his face, whether from learning about the amount of food or you finally speaking you didn’t know.

Ripping the bag open loudly before grabbing one, quickly unwrapping the burger, then stuffing it in his mouth, turning your attention somewhere else, not wanting to watching him eat. Taking in the room a bit better, looking over the cluttered desks and projected computer screens.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he voice once again, snapping you out of thoughts, turning to see as he continued to chew on the burger. Quickly, you reply with a breathy "yes," giving a shy smile. Knowing all about his super hero, reading many titles that were good and bad, even scandalous, making you wonder if his following eyes and talkative demeanor were special to you. 

"How long have you been working here?" asking almost slurred from his mouth being filled with food. "Not long; today is my first day, actually." noticing his eyes widen at the information, though he smiled. "Well, I hope you're enjoying it here, running around this place." seeing as he hand motioned as if it were you running, you nodded with a laugh.

"I got the numbers from the test." Both of you turned to the new voice source, a man in a white coat. Quickly turning embarrassed at the attention. "Good, this is the new intern; they brought food." Tony pointed at you while walking to the man, grabbing what he had.

"And um... whats your name?" locking with Tony’s eyes again, taking a minute to respond, "Oh, Y/N," earning a smile from the iron man. "Take one of those." He gestured to the ripped bag with food. "I know interns do get to eat for another hour," he says before going back to look at the test numbers.

Grabbing one without looking, "Thank you, Mr. Stark," you said before pressing the button. "A shake would be good with this." Hearing the two conversing before the doors shut. "Bruce, I asked if you wanted one." That was all you got to hear before the elevator closed.

Sighing with relief as five minutes had gone by without another ping from your device, finishing the day feeling like a pile of brinks about to go through the nice tile floor. Returning the device, tiredly waiting in the group of people that did the same. 

Checking the time for the first time since the morning reading 9:00 p.m. on the dot. "Finally," glady walking down the long hallways from the front, almost running to the front glass doors of the beautiful building. Walking out of the lobby, a lady’s voice calls your name, stopping in your rushed tracks turning to the front desk.

Greeted with the same lady from the morning, looking a bit tired though having the same smile as before. "Here's your new schedule, ordered by Mr. Stark." Holding out a paper, taking it quickly while thanking her, hoping she’d understand the rush. Not bothering to look at it until you got home. Nothing else mattered on the ride home, only dreaming longly for your bed and hearing its callings. 

Stuffing yourself through the apartment door, quickly locking it behind you. Stumbling over your feet with the couch luckily there to catch your failing. Groaning at the feeling of every muscle relaxing, not wanting think this is what everyday would feel like.

Taking a breath before getting up, looking over the coffee table, seeing the paper, remembering what the lady had said, you shoot up. Grabbing it, hoping the new schedule would have some mercy—or really, Mr. Stark would. Reading the typed-up words.

Tony Stark's new schedule for Y/N L/N:

Y/N must be on standby for Mr. Stark and will do anything he asks.

Starting at 8 a.m. on the 70th floor, the front desk will provide an access card.

Looking over the paper again, reading carefully, and flipping it to look at the back, there's nothing. "Anything?"

Next Chapter>

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

[vesselslut]

One more secret won't hurt / Bunny x reader

Part 1 Part 2

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

Chapter 3: Gossip sessions can be very productive

I reach my dorm and walk directly to my room, trying to avoid anyone in the hallways. Once inside, I close the door and drop all my stuff on the desk. I reach into my minifridge and grab a leftover sandwich, then drop onto my bed to eat it, staring quietly at the ceiling. I am usually much more productive than this. None of my assignments have ever been turned in late. How could I let something so lame as a group of dorks derail my Saturday like this?

'Not the group of dorks, just the one guy' says a tiny voice in my brain. I shake my head, as if to make the voice physically go away.

Is it right, though? The guy did seem interesting and all, but enough to make my brain this useless? If I wasn't so self-conscious, maybe I would've walked over to the group and talked to them, take the mystery away, then I might be able to focus on my homework. Maybe a nap will help clear my head. Yes, a nap. Good idea. To make the image of the dorks go away. And the guy, of course. The loud guy.

I finish my sandwich, throw the wrapper at the garbage can next to my bedside table, and miss epically. I close my eyes and try to think of anything else, hoping I will fall asleep soon. It's quite early, though, and I'm not very sleepy. I've always had a hard time sleeping during the day. I toss and turn, get under the covers, and quickly climb back out. I swear I can still hear the words in the strange language floating around in my head. I wish I knew what they mean. Or how to spell them so I could look in a dictionary for them. Or even just know what language it is. There is something so intriguing about how it sounds. Is that it? Or is it intriguing because it came out of his mouth? I wonder what his name is. If I wasn't such a coward, I could've asked him.

I'm wrestling with my thoughts when a loud knock on my door gets me out of my trance. I’m grateful for this merciful distraction from that spiral I was slowly falling into. “Coming!” I yell. I walk to the door, trying to smooth my hair down with my fingers after tossing in bed for half an hour. I open the door and I’m greeted by Judy’s bright smile. “Hey, girlie!” she says, quickly stepping into my room and throwing herself into my bed with a sigh. “Ugh, I’m exhausted!” Exhausted came out more like a grunt than an actual word. “Do you have any idea how many costumes I sewed today? Way too fucking many. Is it too early to bring out the wine?” she looks up at me from the bed. “Nah, it’s 5 p.m. somewhere!” I say, opening the minifridge, and reaching for one of the bottles. I take a seat on my desk chair and roll it closer to the bed.

- “Girl, you okay? Cuz, you look like you really need that wine.�� She sits up and reaches for the glass I’m holding out to her.

- “Ugh, don’t even get me started. I was supposed to do a bunch of work today and did exactly zero percent of it.” I take a sip of my cheap wine. “I was actually hoping I could ask you about something I saw today?”

- “Of course! Shoot.” She leans forward, as if indicating I have her full attention, and looks at me expectantly while taking a big swig of wine.

- “Aight, so. I was in the library, and there was this group, I’ve seen them around before, but never so up close. They’re kind of weird, dressed kind of old fashioned, speaking in a weird language… ring any bells?”

- “Ah. I see you met the Greek club” she says, rolling her eyes dramatically. What else can you expect from a theater major… Greek. I knew it had to be that or Latin. I nod at her, urging her to go on, provide more info. “Yeah, they’re very particular. They’re Classics majors, so they only take classes with one professor, I don’t think you’ve ever seen him cuz he’s just as weird as them, a complete hermit. His name is Julian, I think.” She squints her eyes, and bites hard on her bottom lip in that particular way, like she’s digging around in her brain for the correct data. “Anyways,” she shakes her head, coming back to reality, “what about ‘em? Did they say anything to you?” Her voice turning an octave lower at the end, the international Judy signal for ‘spill the tea!’

- “Oh, no, nothing like that. They were a few tables away from me, working on something in what I now know was Greek. They were just so mysterious, and I just can’t stop thinking about one of them.” I realize my mistake a second too late and see the smirk already forming on Judy’s lips.

- “Oooooooooooo someone has her very first Hampden cruuuush,” she says in that annoying sing-song voice she uses to tease me. It’s like I can physically see the goblin energy flowing through her body. “And on one of the Greek weirdos, damn Y/N, that’s bold. But honestly, you’re kind of weird too, so that makes sense,” she says, matter-of-factly. I should be used to her teasing by now, but I still feel the blood running to my cheeks, and I groan.

- “C’mon, Judes! It’s not like that. I’ve just never heard Greek before. It caught me off guard, I guess.” I finished my wine in one big gulp and poured myself another glass.

- “Right, right,” she says, rolling her eyes again, “quit being a wet rag and go back to the boy. Was he hot?” her eyes grow huge as she waits for my answer.

- “I mean, yeah, I guess?” I close my eyes, trying to picture his face again. Yeah, I would consider him good looking. I give Judy a nod.

- “Well, don’t get any ideas. As far as I know, Francis is very gay. Like. Gay as fuck,” the last bit comes out barely above a whisper. I’m not sure why this information disappoints me, it’s not like Judy was right about the crush. “I get you, though. His hair is to die for! I wish I was a natural redhead too. My mom always said that-”

- “Wait, redhead?” I interrupt her rant. “No, I did not mean the redhead.”

- “Oh, shit. Sorry! I mean, he’s the hottest one so I assumed you meant him. My bad. I’m guessing you mean Henry then, and he is kind of handsome I guess, but dude, he is so weird. Not just weird, he’s mean. It’s like, I don’t know, like he thinks he’s better than everyone else? That one really needs to pull his head out of his own ass, and out of that weirdo professor’s ass.” She’s ranting so passionately about this Henry that I can only assume she’s had a really bad experience with him in the past.

- “Judes, slow down. Which one is Henry?” I ask, already suspecting she’s got the wrong one in mind. What she’s describing definitely does not match the vibes I got from the guy. The wine bottle is half empty already, but I still pour us both another glass.

- “Tall one, dark hair, looks like he has a stick up his ass,” her hands are moving a bit more clumsily than usual, she’s tipsy already. For someone who drinks so constantly, she’s such a lightweight.

- “Yeah, no. Again, that’s not the one I meant. I was talking about the blond one, with the-” my words are drowned out by Judy’s screech as she jumps up, waving her arm in my face.

- “Oh! Oh! Charles! You mean Charles! Dude, you have terrible taste, like, honestly. I mean, they’re all pretty weird already, but add the freaky twin thing into it... And don’t get me started on the girl twin, that bitch is legit crazy. Camilla. She came close to clawing my eyes out at a party one time. Swear to god. I was just minding my own business, spilled a little bit of beer on her by accident. I can be very clumsy, you know.” I swear she is doing it on purpose. I let her continue her rant, sipping my wine patiently. “That huge weirdo, Henry, was standing between us in a second. He looked ready to beat me up. Now she gives me the stink eye every time she sees me. And so does her twin. They are freakily close, those two. Did you notice they dress the same? I swear she just wears his clothes half the time. I tell you; you don’t want to get involved in that twin mess. No sir.”

- “You done, babes?” I ask her, raising an eyebrow. Once she nods, I continue. “As I was saying, I meant the blond guy with glasses. Not Charles.” Her face contorts in a weird way, like what I said makes absolutely no sense. Realization creeps into her features, slowly at first and then all at once. She looks at me like I just puked on her cat.

- “You can’t possibly mean Bunny? Let’s see, was he being the loudest thing in a 3-mile radius?” I nod. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but he was kind of loud for a library. “Yup, that’s Bunny.”

- “Bunny…” I whisper, the name sounds funny on my lips. “What kind of name is that?” I ask, eyeing her suspiciously, thinking she might just be pulling my leg.

- “His name’s actually Edmund Corcoran, but everyone calls him Bunny for some reason. No idea why. But dude, he’s like, I don’t know. He’s the most down to earth one out of the bunch, but he’s also the most annoying one. I mean, you saw him.” She chuckles and spills a bit of wine on my bed. I don’t think she even noticed. “I’ve seen him around at some parties. He’s nice, but again, quite annoying. Plus, he hangs out with the other ones, so, my advice is: stay the fuck away, girl.”

- “Yeah, well, I was just curious. It’s not like I was planning on speaking to any of em. You know I’m shy with strangers.” She squints her eyes at me, clearly not believing any of my bullshit.

- “Well, I’m just glad you were not talking about Richard, cuz that one’s mine,” she throws her head back and laughs. “Fellow Californian, he switched his major to classics recently, he’s pretty cool. Hope they don’t turn him into a pretentious ass before I can fuck him.” I love Judy, she knows what she wants and doesn’t fuck around. I wish I could be more like her in that sense. “But really, this Bunny guy…” I quickly try to change the subject, hoping she’s kind enough to just drop it. “So, what play are all of those costumes for?” She rolls her eyes, but immediately yields, and starts telling me all about their latest production of some Oscar Wilde play.

I pay as much attention as I can, asking a few questions, laughing at her little jokes, trying to follow her stories about disastrous stage mishaps, but part of my mind is somewhere else, wondering how hard it could be to learn Greek. Imagining the delicious feeling of those sounds, rolling off my tongue. And Bunny. Mysterious Bunny. His thunderous laugh disturbing the quietest corners of my psyche.