#fic: bedside

[aknosde]

bedside

// Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard // Post-Canon // Established Relationship // Traveling // Fluff // essentially andrew waxing poetic about neil, cars, & sunlight // 1k

ao3

—————

There is something inherently exhausting about banquets.

Andrew, as a man of taste, appreciates good food, nice clothes, and expensive cars. He does not appreciate the flight from Denver to L.A., nor does he appreciate L.A. itself; it’s hot and sticky when he touches down, air rushing into the depressurizing cabin, and he feels sweat materialize where his glasses rest on the bridge of his nose. LAX is, as always, a shithole of people and luggage. Everything that moves here always seems to knock into anything that isn’t—case in point: his suitcase into a tree, and a toddler into his legs. It takes Andrew five minutes to even find a corner to tuck himself into and turn his phone off airplane mode.  

Perhaps it’s not banquets, but travel.

The first thing he does is call Neil. At least he has someone to pick him up from his personal hell.

Neil flew down from Chicago earlier in the week to catch Kevin’s last qualifying match, which against all odds had taken an absurd amount of cajoling by both he and Kevin. What it should’ve been: Neil gives his last press conference of the season and flies out to see Kevin, they then drive down to L.A. together. What it was: Neil assuring Andrew he gould always get to Denver to make the flight together approximately fifty times, packing over facetime because despite being a seasoned professional Neil would still wear jeans and a leather jacket to every official event if he could, and a debate on whether or not they wanted to share Kevin’s car.

“I’m all ready here,” Neil greets. “Pickup 3A, and making a hell of a lot of Ubers mad.”

“As you often do,” Andrew says before hanging up.

He makes his way down to and through baggage claim swiftly, feeling superior to everyone forced to wait for their checked bags on the slowest conveyor belt known to man, and out into the blanketing heat. His reading glasses have been tucked into his shirt pocket and replaced by the ‘cereal killer’ baseball cap Allison got him as a gag gift a few years ago, which makes many appearances when he doesn’t want to show up on the average exy fan’s radar. Neil’s used an old puff-paint pen of Renee’s to draw lion heads on the underside of the bill.

“Hey,” Neil says, grinning, as Andrew steps up to the atrocious red convertible Neil’s lounging in the driver’s seat of, ignoring the myriad of ride-share drivers sending him dirty looks and honking their horns—Andrew realizes that while the verdict of sharing a car with Kevin had been no, they hadn’t made a decision about rentals, and this is apparently what Neil’s come up with (though doubtlessly influenced by… Matt is his best guess, possibly Allison). It looks annoyingly good on him. “Bag?”

Andrew hoists his case up and Neil unbuckles to lean over and toss it in the back row. He’s wearing a pair of aviators—Ray Bans Allison also purchased, not as a gag gift but in pursuit of her and Andrew’s continuous and combined efforts to encourage Neil to dress at least half as good as he looks (they’ve been dissuaded from “as good as he looks” over the years)—and in the week since Andrew’s seen him, he’s managed to turn deep brown, his hair catching auburn in the sun. Before he can open the door Andrew touches Neil’s wrist where it's propped on the passenger seat and kisses him over the parking brake.

“Hey,” he finally says when they separate.

“Hi,” Neil responds, looking up at him. He’s close enough to see Neil’s eyes warm and happy through his sunglasses.

Andrew doesn’t bother with the door this time; he hoists himself straight into the passenger seat. Neil takes the car out of park, but keeps them right where they are.

“How was the flight?”

Neil pushes his shades up on his head as if he needs to see Andrew wholly when he answers. The gold ‘A’ pendant on his necklace flashes in the light as he shifts. Andrew can feel the ring and blank marriage certificate in his bedside table warm and glow from halfway across the country.

“Typically terrible,” he says, but even though he means it he can’t bring himself to be serious.

“Yeah?” Neil asks, that smile on his face, and he kisses Andrew this time.

It’s deeper but they keep it gentle, maybe because Andrew’s exhausted, but maybe because they’re still saying hello. It’s soft and easy, kind of like greeting someone it’s always nice to see. The car jerks forwards slightly, and the driver behind them lays on their horn in two long, annoyed bursts. He can feel Neil smiling against him as they break away.

Andrew watches him put his sunglasses back on and flick his turn signal, rest both hands on the wheel. He’s tempted to make a joke about Neil’s foot slipping off the break—something about how he never took a driver’s test, or how the FBI didn’t check before giving him his license—but then Neil looks at him and he notices how he’s glowing in the sunlight.

“You think a nap can fix it?”

He imagines Neil lying next to him, reading whatever fifth-hand, out of date, textbook on linear algebra or theoretical geometry he found at Goodwill last week; the cool, clean white sheets and pristine shower of a hotel room; waking up to Neil crouched by his side of the bed, telling him Kevin’s all ready found a spot he’s gonna love for dinner, they’ve gotta get moving. Andrew adjusts his cap and flips the bird to whatever asshole is behind them. Neil in his bed can fix a lot of things.

“If you’ve got AC.”

Neil huffs a laugh and turns back to the road, pulls out of his spot as smoothly as Andrew can sweep a ball out of the air. Andrew turns the air on and leans back in his seat, angled towards Neil; he spends the ride to the hotel thinking of that ring.

[choccy-milky]

sometimes you gotta lure your overly-studious ravenclaw gf into spending time with you 🥰 📚 ( from 'Every Teardrop is a Waterfall' by Kat_12739 on ao3, GO READ IT!!! the first story is about seb falling sick and still pushing himself/not admitting he's sick until he ends up in the hospital, the second story is about the birth of seb and clora's daughter and seb's reaction to clora almost dying in childbirth, and the third is about dealing with a fussy newborn lewis😭🥹THEY'RE SO GOOD AND SWEET AND SOMEWHAT SAD (not to mention beautifully written) so go check it out!!💖💖 )

[chiharuuu22]

Just a classic scene.

Whumpee was lying weakly on the hospital bed in a semi-conscious or fully unconscious condition. The medical equipment that kept beeping around his bed indicated that Whumpee was still alive. You can see poor Whumpee with or without hospital gown, socks, blanket, bandages, stitches, casts, bruises, several ECGs on the chest, IVs, catheters or maybe diapers, oxygen masks or canula or ventilator, oximeters, blood pressure monitors, or whatever you can imagine.

Caretaker faithfully (and of course very worried) sat at Whumpee's bedside. Her hand always held Whumpee's hand.

Every time Whumpee moans in pain, Caretaker gently shushes and caress Whumpee's hair or cheek or hand to calm him down again.

If Whumpee feels uncomfortable and repeatedly wants to scratch his itchy scar, Caretaker will hold Whumpee's hand and gently stroke the itchy area.

Or when Whumpee had a tantrum and was about to remove the medical device attached to his body, instead of letting the nurse tie Whumpee to the bed, Caretaker patiently held Whumpee while whispering calming sentences like, "Sorry, Whumpee. I know you're uncomfortable, but believe me, you need it. Everything will be taken off as soon as you're better, okay? Just hold my hand if you feel uncomfortable anymore so I can help you feel better."

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 - Gymnastics

@wolfstarmicrofic August 18, word count 986

Previous part First Jegulus part

Sirius led everyone back to his and Remus’s flat. He was so excited about the BBQ. But what he was most excited about was the big bag of marshmallows he’d bought to toast over the fire. He dragged Remus by his hand to the front door and unlocked it. He inhaled deeply when they walked in. He loved his home so much. They hadn’t been here long, but it already held so many happy memories for him. 

James strode through the flat and straight out the French windows into the garden. Regulus stood a bit out of place near the front door until he followed James outside and watched him build up the fire. Sirius and Remus were terrible at starting the BBQ. Even with the easy light bags, somehow they never took. Sirius shrugged and went into the kitchen to get the food out of the fridge, ready to be cooked. 

He could hear James talking in the living room, something about the sofa being soft. Remus darted past him and poked his head around the door.

“If you break it, Potter, you’re paying for another one. Remember last time?” Sirius had to bury his face in the crook of his arm to stop them hearing his laughter. 

“Er, yeah, sorry, Moony,” James said sheepishly. Sirius could hear Regulus whispering excitedly and James’s deep voice rumbling out his excuse for breaking their sofa. They got up and Sirius couldn’t hear them any more. 

He began mixing together his secret salad dressing. It was simple but brought the otherwise bitter leaves to life. It was a recipe that Effie had given him, passed down from her mother and stolen from some friend of her mother. James wouldn’t have any other kind of dressing and was known to sneak a small bottle of it into restaurants and use that instead of whatever they had. 

He checked the steaks he’d been marinating overnight. They smelled divine, peppery and herby. They had sausages and chicken wings as well, plus loads of sides. There was no way they were going to eat it all, but Sirius didn’t mind eating the rest tomorrow. 

“Darling, did you leave you know what on the bedside table?” Remus asked matter-of-factly. Sirius paled.

“Yup,” He swallowed, but he could already hear James and Regulus coming back from that direction, so it was pointless trying to dive and roll around them with all of his teenage gymnastics skills to stop them from seeing what he’d forgotten to put away. Regulus appeared in the doorway beside James and flushed brightly when they made eye contact. “Right start taking this stuff out,” He ordered, trying to get Regulus away from him. He spun to check the dressing again and by the time he’d picked up his own plates to take outside, both Regulus and James were gone. 

“Don’t worry, my love. It could have been worse,” Remus said, stealing a kiss before he followed the others outside. 

He was so full. He could see his stomach protruding over his jeans. He wished he’d changed into his leggings, but now he didn’t want to move. He popped another toasted marshmallow into his mouth and groaned as the sweet gooey mess spread inside his mouth after he broke through the toasted skin. He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through tictok.

He was just popping another marshmallow into his mouth when his thumb froze. He was in a video. 

“WHAT THE ACTUAL!!!” He yelled at his phone as it played a video of him berating Regulus in the café from the other day. He clicked on the creator’s profile, Wormtail was their name and scrolled through. There were a lot of different people losing it in public, but the ones with the most views were of him in the café. “Who the fuck does this guy think he is?!” He cried angrily at his phone. That’s when he noticed the logo, a fat grey rat. The rat phone case man! He was going to kill him. “And I gave you an extra almond croissant you little shit! That's it he’d banned!” 

Remus’s hands found his shoulders and began pushing him into the flat. He looked around for his brother and James, but they’d gone. He had no idea when they’d disappeared, but he was more concerned with the next video that came up of Wormtail going into the back of the café to film him ranting at the toastie machines when he’d burnt his hand on one. That was crossing the line. “Remus,” He said, calmer than before, and held up the phone for Remus to see. 

“What the!” Remus was outraged now. “It clearly says, Staff Only, No Entry, Private, on the door!” His brow was furrowed in anger as he scrolled through a few more of the videos. “It’s not the first time either, look,” Sirius peered at the screen and saw himself rocking back and forth chanting. “Be nice, be nice,” The camera suddenly turned to the ceiling and bounced into the store cupboard before cutting off. “That’s right when you came and got me,” Sirius whispered. He’d been feeling so vulnerable in that moment and some guy he didn’t even know had recorded it and posted it online for likes. “Fuck,” He sobbed. Remus’s arms wrapped him in a tight warm hug.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” He murmured into Sirius’s hair. 

Remus led Sirius to the bedroom, wrapping him in the duvet before going to run a bath. He took Sirius’s phone away from him and Sirius was grateful. He’d only spend the entire night watching the videos over and over, making himself feel worse. At least he had tomorrow to sort himself out. 

“Remus?” His voice was croaky and muffled from the duvet. 

“Yes, sweetheart,” Remus came back in from the bathroom and stroked his hair. 

“Can we go see Mum tomorrow?” 

Next part

[youphoriaot7]

That night, when Roier gets back to the castle, the bed is empty. No one is there. No one has been there all day, either—the castle is just as empty as it was left the day before.

He does his best not to panic.

Instead, he goes searching. He checks N.I.N.H.O. (He's already found Cellbit there a couple times, sitting lonely on the edge of the small bed.) But the walls are as silent as ever. He checks the favela, on a whim—but no one is there, either.

On his way to the main square, he happens to run into Philza, and asks him if he knows where Cellbit's run off to this time. Instead of offering a direction, the older man explains everything that's happened over the past three or four hours.

Roier knows where to look.

The door to the Ordo opens with a hiss as he steps inside, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. The main hall still has debris scattered from end to end, the remnants of the two cages discarded in one of the corners. He pushes forward, down the corridor, trying to ignore the pain still clinging to every wall.

The heart rate monitor beeps steadily as he reaches the hospital wing. There, he finds the full aftermath of the night's events: an unconscious president, lying exhausted in the hospital bed, and a worn-out investigator, slumped against the couch nearby.

Silently, Roier slips onto the cushion next to him, trying not to disturb him. Cellbit barely lifts his hands from his face, not even bothering to check and see who entered the room. Instead, he simply leans forward, elbows bracing against his knees.

The room is quiet, the only noise breaking the tension being the constant, consistent beep of the monitor across from them. Then, suddenly, Cellbit lets out a small, choked noise, and Roier glances over in surprise.

The other man's shoulders are starting to tremble, even as he buries his face deeper into his hands. Without a word, Roier loops an arm over Cellbit's back, rubbing his thumb against his husband's shoulder. He doesn't need to know the full story to know Cellbit's hit his limit for the day—hell, the week. Hell, the month.

He simply pulls the other man closer as the tears start to fall faster, and doesn't say a word when they wet the sleeves of his hoodie. And if Cellbit falls asleep there after a while, then maybe Roier takes a quick nap of his own; each clasping the other's hand for comfort, the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor their only comfort as they drift into slumber.

[isildursestrid]

NEXT! for the no excuses writing ask game 🫶

NEXT — the next line. meaning i will finish the sentence I’m on and write a new one, which you’ll get.

“Tell me something to keep me awake.” Kate turned her head to look at Tyler, the dizziness wasn’t as bad when she kept her eyes off the road.

“Like what?” His eyes darted to hers and then back onto the highway.

“Anything.” Kate wracked her brain for a topic but her thoughts were so foggy, then she remembered their conversation at the rodeo before it was interrupted. “Your family. You mentioned your aunt. What about your parents?”

“They live in Paris.”

“France?” There was an incredulous tone in her voice. Kate couldn’t fathom this, former bull riding, cowboy boot wearing, tornado wrangling meteorologist with parents that lived in France. Surely not.

“Arkansas.” Tyler’s dimple was on full display as he smiled.

“Oh.” Kate’s head hurt too much to give him grief for teasing her.

“No. Seriously, they have a ranch there. Cattle and horses mostly.” His face lit up as he spoke. “My mom Sheila she’s a former high school science teacher. My dad, Rod still runs the ranch. It’s his pride and joy. All he talks about.” She was happy to listen as the tension lessened in his shoulders and his hand loosened slightly in hers.

Thanks Robyn for the ask! I did manage to get something down though it’s rough. 🖤

No Excuses WIP ask meme send me an ask!

[bibuckagenda]

9-1-1 soulmate au where words appear only after you die, but are brought back. Literally such a small population has soul words because of this. The words can sometimes appear long after the incident, as one has to remember them being spoken.

“That kid is just lucky he met you.” Doesn’t appear on Eddie until a few years later when he’s barely holding it together at Buck’s bedside and a stray comment from one of the other’s triggers a memory from the sniper shooting that he hadn’t remembered.

“Okay cowboy go get ‘em” etches itself on Buck while he’s still in his coma dream, making Eddie’s lack of presence even more distressing.

[asamiontop]

Where the Snow Takes Us is now COMPLETE on Ao3.

Final Chapter is up!

I don’t even know what to say. Hope it’s the ending you’ve been waiting for.

Link to the full story here.

[wikiangela]

pls can we see may in just one more scene this season

i feel like Bobby dying in the hospital would be the perfect opportunity bc you know she'd be there in a heartbeat, he's one of her dads 😭

their bond means so much to me and i need her to be there, for both Bobby and Athena

corinne come back for one scene to break our hearts pls 😭😭

[kentocalls]

the morning after | ryomen sukuna nsfw. spicy. lots of pet names. oral, p in v. probably ooc cuz i like my men sweet. part 1

he's up before the sun, a tight hold on your form, cheek squished into his shoulder. mind blank, washes the deep blue sky turn orange, your head twitches, tries to shuffle away from the light. that's the moment he allows himself to be free from your warm body. wanders around your bedside, drags the curtains forward until the sun is blocked from annoying your face. pads over to your bathroom, collecting his shoes and belt, he's got plenty on his plate. figures a slice of toast and he's off.

he notices a very captialized 'grocery list' with messy writing before opening the refridgerator to be met with one unopened jar of cherry jam. one smoke and then he's off.

eyes taking in the street you live on, questioning the structural integretiy of your balcony before he spots a 'grocery mart.'

-

your head hurts. no amount of rolling around the bed is going to rid the vibrating pain dancing in your skull. you blink open your eyes and shuffle your body upright. a shower, a nice warm shower and something to settle your gut. you spot two pills and a glass of water next to your charging phone and whoa. late night drunk you is such a smart gal. you thank her for good decisions and promise not to dwell on the rest.

heavy steps to your bathroom and a nice warm stream of water hits your face. his face flashs in your mind, his deep voice "tired?" you groan, the hottest man on earth was in your place and you were too sleepy to do anything. you're not sore, no aches or marks. minus the headache thats fading.

you slip out, dry your skin, use your favorite lotion, wash your face dilgently. and shake your head at your reflection; sighing. "didn't even ask his name!" you have a soft white robe on, know you're low on laundry and head to your kitchen.

and he's still there.

nods at your stool and places a slice of toast and orange juice in front of you. he's on the phone, talking loudly and you're too caught up in the fact that he's still here. take a bite of the bread, a sip of juice. when did you buy this?

"i've got company." hangs up instantly, eyes taking in your very clean face. you look better than earlier. he kinda hates. knows he should leave but there you are with a "thank you, for last night and breakfast."

so polite.

toast hardly counts as food. but your diety habits are not his concern. he nods, another name on his phone screen distracting him. you're not fiddling with your hands, you finish the toast, drink the juice start to clean the plates and inspect the bread. when did you buy this?

"it's been nice." he leans against the counter, sincere with his words. he needed the rest, feels refreshed and ready to haggle at tiny men in suits.

it should be awkward now, as you're supposed to shuffle out of his way and he leaves without looking back but you're frowning. take a step towards him, head slightly tilted up. "you didn't even kiss me."

he chuckles, shaking his head "don't kiss one night stands." keeps the word angel at the tip of his tongue.

"but it's the morning now." you counter, inching forward. tilting your head to the side, confused and hopeful. he isn't sure if you've fully sobered up. the scent of your clean skin close. he's tempted.

you're being bold, moving closer, your robe meeting his very fine silky clothes, his hands find your hips but he doesn't stop you. you're not going to find someone like him again, that's what you say when you push onto your tip-toes inching closer.

his lips brush yours before he's moved away, noses at your neck. "nope." fine, fine, fine. you won't kiss his lips, settle for a his collarbone. he pulls you closer, lifting you up a bit.

sukuna is absolutely sure your countertop cannot support the weight of two people. and he has time, he doesn't need to be at his meetings until noon. you pull him to your bedroom, his eyes on your thighs ; can't wait to bite and grip.

"no kissing, got it. can i leave a mark here? please." your fingers burn at his neck. so fucking polite, has him nodding along, hand already under your loosely tied robe as he takes in your scent.

feels you smile against him, feels your soft lips and wet tongue and teeth grazing. "please fuck me before you go."

yeah, he has time for this.

hands on your bare skin, he kisses down your neck, down your chest, nuzzles as your stomach before continuing down down down and the way your body shudders but he never reaches the destination.

comes right back up, latches onto nipple and sucks, bites, teases. pinches your other breast with his thumb and index finger, alternating until you're begging for more. no matter your babbling he doesn't let up, heat coiling inside you but the man isn't in a hurry. "please," fuck what is his name? you try to remember when he told you, last night, it was sultry the way he said it. "please su...sukuna..."

that has his attention, loves the way it sounds. "already close?" you whine in protest, "what, need you to say what you want." "please touch me, please." you know he already is, but it gets his hands moving to your hips and thighs and his thumb faintly brushes your clit, has you gasping. calling his names, eyes pleading and he likes it.

sukuna wants to hear more, has his lips trailing wet, hot, messy down again until he latches on where you want him and nothing is keeping him away from you now.

and despite all the moaning and gasping you're still polite. still formulating sentences. you don't need to ask him but gosh your voice rings a sinful alarm, "please, can I touch your hair?"

has him silently promising to ruin every other guy for you, kissing your wrist, he places your hand on his head, comes up to adjust an arm around your hips, spreading you open. "you'll be good now right? stay open like this, no pulling."

he's about to lean in but hasn't heard the crescendo of yes falling past your lips so he pauses. your hips try to push up unsuccessfully but that's not enough affirmation. waits for your eyes to land on his, "yes?"

"yes please." "you want this?" "yes yes, please sukuna, want this. please. thank you" so polite, so very polite. he hasn't even started and you're already such a mess. twitching and shaking. tongue laps at your wet heat. so sweet, so warm, so eager.

"perfect."

+

first it was his tongue, then a thumb brusing your clit so slowly while he sucked new marks down your chest. and now he has you spreading open on two fingers. insistent you need three to take him, he's not here to hurt you.

you pull at his shirt, need to feel his skin against yours. his tattoos peak out and set another fire in your belly. how the fuck is he so perfect? "can i touch here too please? can i scratch?"

too polite, you're too polite, pushes his skin closer to yours, your hands delicate at first then nails digging deep, dragging him in. pulling him close.

and you're such a good girl, leaving chaste kisses on his jawline, down his neck. not trying to kiss him, not trying to rush him. he can hear his phone ringing the kitchen, falling off the counter and he's not leaving now.

he finally slips in a third, reminds you to breathe, when it's shaky his face finds yours. "too much?"

"it's...ah, it's good. thank you." and if he kisses the corner of your mouth it's cuz he's pulling you higher, adjusts your position. it's not on purpose. he doesn't need to know how soft your lips are.

now with three he moves even slower, the stretch burns and he's so fucking deep. your fingers are never going to reach this far. you moan into his neck, scratch down his back, your hips bucking up. but the pace is still slow, you can feel his heat on your leg. why the fuck does he have such good control?

"now? please, i-ah, i-'m so..." wet, messy, ready. he curls his fingers up, brushing purposefuly on that bundle of nerves and you're biting into his shoulder. legs twitching, body shaking, a flush going down your face and neck and all he does is whipser perfect into your ear over and over again. until you see stars.

+

are you breathing? sukuna's hand is on your stomach, "deep breaths angel, there you go." watches your eyes flutter back open, kisses your forehead, your temple, your jawline and chin. let's you orient back to the room, back to him. your hand finally releases it's tight grip on his arm. "ready?"

"can..." you swallow drly, "can I please have water?" you're ready to hear a soon or just one more. know there's a limit to how tender and paitent a partner can be. he's made you cum four times now and feel so fucking good.

you don't realize he slipped away until he's back, helps you sit up, cool glass of liquid at your lips, your hand on his wrist looks comincally small. when you're done he takes a quick sip himself, catches your eyes watching him.

and it's too soft, the way he thumbs at your cheek, concerned. it's not needed, you feel very present and very ready. "i have condoms somewhere..." you start

he scoffs.

"you do now" he points at a box sitting on your nightstand, you don't recognize it. when did you get this?

he holds a packet with his teeth, his hands reaching for his slacks, you stop him "let me, let me please."

you do your best to move your hands at a normal place, but it looks eager anyways, has him smirking, dropping the condom packet into your palm as you do a very perfect job of not looking nervous at the girth or length of his dick.

you get why he insisted on three fingers, he grabs a pillow and places it behind you, "lay back."

"yes yes yes, thank you." as you watch him lean forward, muscles moving in a coordinated dance, rubs himself through the wet of your previous release. you both moan.

he still. takes. his. time.

moves his cock up and down your pussy lips, touching your sensitive nub, driving you insane. your hips buck up at nothing, want more friction, need him inside you.

"please, please, you're so close, please."

"please what angel?"

"put it inside, please fuck me."

and he's not slow when he does, that chant of 'thank you' will be embarassing tomorrow because everything feels right now. he's so big, you're stuffed so full and he's moving at such brutal pace.

you want to hold out longer, you're already so sensitive, you're biting your lips, trying to find purchase on his back, nails deep scratching, biting at his neck.

his name mixed with your please and thank you is putting him in a trance.

you're impossibly tight. sukuna's thrusting faster than he wanted, harder than he wanted. had planned a build up, wanted to make you beg over and over but he's already there. pulling him deep, gripping him tight. the sounds echoing in off the bedroom walls are filthy.

"so good for me, so perfect for me."

"told..ah, told you..." you're slipping, the familiar twitch in your hips, you're close again and he hasn't even cum once, has he? "with you, please, please, together please? sukuna please."

he picks up the pace, the hand on your hip will leave a bruise, the lovebites on your body glow red. he's so close, "with me, look at me, come on angel." you're both so close, hips rolling to match his thrusts.

your lips are so plush, mouth open a silent scream pushes you over the edge as he follows. hips stuttering, grinding, heavy. he let's his weight fall on you, hand grips the back of your neck and brings your lips to his.

so fucking soft, so willing. he pulls off to catch a breath, spit connecting your lips and silently you trail after his lips, he kisses you slowly. moves his hips slowly, still hungry, ready to feel you again. "thank you sukuna" you say between broken kisses, your eyes lidded, body heavy, just like last night.

too trusting when your body softens against him, too vulnerable when you nuzzle into his neck, another whisper of "thank you." and you have to be his. no one can hear you like this, see you like this. no one can touch your skin like he does, no one can know how absolutely etheral you are drifting off to sleep.

his lips dance over your face, he whispers "mine" into your temple, into the crook of your neck, at the center of your chest, above your sore nipples, into your bellybutton, above your sensitive clit, down your legs and he sits on his up.

comitting you to memory won't be enough.

he'll do this again. and again. and again.

+

part 3

[stevethehairington]

okay but i need ALL of the fics that take place during crozier getting sober. like i feel like there is SO much potential here bc it is THEE biggest turning point for him! esp with regards to fitzjames and their relationship. like fitzjames seeing crozier's choice to sober up as this huge defining moment, one that ultimately and unequivocally earns his respect (back, really, because he DID have respect for crozier at first, before he met him. and now he sees that that respect wasnt misgiven, not really). and like the way this choice is what causes the first crack in james' mask around crozier! ugh it's just DELICIOUS.

[fireinmywoods]

fic: a battuta

It’s deep into gamma; he hardly saw a soul on his trek up from the shuttlebay. Jim must have forgotten to order the lights off when he headed to bed.

In which Leonard comes home. Teen, ~5k words.

As always, spoilers for palimpsest. Please please please read that first!

[read on AO3]

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Zipper (Part Two)

Whumptober 2022: 31. Bedside Vigil Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader Word Count: 4203 TW: Angst, Plane Crash, Hospital, Life Support, Bruises Note: Thank you to @loverhymeswith and @green-socks for looking this over for me! 💕 Part One, Part Two

Jake crept back towards the common area, his head ducked low in shame. He was hoping to sneak in with as few people seeing him as possible given the embarrassing way he left. Just stormed off without his phone, his keys, anything. And from the second he stepped foot off the base, he knew he should turn around and go back to you. He was hurt by what you said, but he had hurt you first. And if he was being completely honest with himself, you weren’t wrong. 

During training, he was so focused on being the best or proving he deserved one of the spots on the mission, that he often didn’t think about any of the other pilots. And while he was never paired with you since the teams were always comprised of a single and double plane and you both flew solo, he honestly wasn’t sure how he would behave as your wingman. 

Part of him wanted to swear up and down he would never leave your side. Yet, he knew if he saw an opening, there was a chance he would take it regardless of the position it put you in. And he tried to tell himself it was just because this was training and no one was really in danger and all the “kills” were meaningless, but would he really fly any differently in a real-life scenario? He wasn’t sure and that thought made him feel sick to his stomach. So, he had stayed away until he finally thought he could face you again.

It was now almost midnight so he thought he could avoid any confrontation until the morning. But as soon as he opened the door to the mess hall, he knew he was in trouble. Every member of the team was currently scattered around the room. Coyote was looking intensely out the window. Fanboy and Payback were huddled in the corner looking anywhere but at Jake. Bob sat at one of the tables with his head in his hands. Phoenix was next to him with her hand on his shoulder and Rooster sat staring blankly at his helmet. Everyone was here…. except you. You must still be upset about the fight that morning and decided to skip whatever was going on here.

The air in the room felt tense and foreboding and Jake wondered how much trouble he must be in. But he put on his usual cocky grin, trying to hide some of the anxiety coursing through him, and he said, “Hey! What’s up, guys?”

But no one responded. No one would even look at him. As he took a few steps further into the room, Jake began to feel the hair on the back of his neck raise as he got a better look at everyone. Even with his head down, Jake could just make out tears forming in the corners of Bob’s eyes. Rooster’s knuckles were white with how tightly he was gripping his helmet and what Jake originally took as a blank expression now looked more haunted and distraught. Rooster finally dragged his eyes away from his helmet and glanced at Phoenix.

The two pilots seemed to come to some silent agreement before Phoenix slowly rose to her feet and took a step toward Jake. “Hangman….” She paused.

Jake waited for a moment but when she didn’t continue, he scoffed trying to break the tension. “What? Seriously guys, what’s going on?”

“We tried to call you but you never answered your phone,” Bob whispered, still staring at the floor.

“I forgot it in my room when I left,” Jake snapped, finally realizing this was more serious than him just missing training. “Now what the hell is going on?”

Phoenix took a deep breath and then said, “It’s Zipper. She…. she was in an accident during training this afternoon.”

All the blood rushed from Jake’s face as an icy chill swept through his body. “No…. that’s not possible… she wasn’t even scheduled to be in the air today.”

“You weren’t here so someone had to take your place in the single plane. She volunteered.” Rooster’s voice was not full of the hostility it usually held when addressing him. Instead, it was flat, emotionless with no accusation in his words, as if he was too numb to blame Jake at the moment.

“Is she….” Jake could barely think the word let alone speak it.

But Phoenix shook her head. “She’s alive… but just barely. They’re doing what they can for her but it’s still touch-and-go.”

Jake collapsed back into a nearby chair as he tried to grasp what he was hearing. He took a few deep breaths as he tried to calm himself before he choked out, “What happened?”

“It was just a series of terrible accidents. The plane malfunctioned, and she tried to bail out.” Phoenix paused as her voice wavered slightly. “The seat ejected but the parachute cord was tangled around the casing so the chute wouldn’t open. She finally managed to unravel the cords and release it, but by that time, she was just too close to the ground. Bob and I were flying with her, and we saw the whole thing.”

“Wait, you and Bob…” A sickening thought suddenly occurred to him. “Whose plane? Whose plane was she in?”

Phoenix and Rooster exchanged a somber look before Phoenix finally whispered, “Yours was already fueled up for the day and ready for takeoff.”

It should have been him. He should have been the one who spun out wildly, who had to frantically scramble to free his chute, who was currently fighting for his life. Yet, because he had been his typical asshole self, the woman he loved had suffered his fate instead.

He shot to his feet, a wave of anxious energy surging through his body. “I–I have to see her! Where is she?”

“She’s in the hospital a few miles off base. I can drive you.” Rooster offered.

Jake nodded. Normally, he wouldn’t have lowered himself to accepting help from Rooster, but any sense of superiority he normally felt over the other pilot was gone in an instant. Their petty fighting didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered to Jake Seresin at that moment was laying in a hospital bed and he just prayed he got to you before it was too late.

As Rooster drove, he tried explaining the details of your condition, yet all Jake heard was “minor burns, broken bones, and punctured organs”, “multiple surgeries”, “machines breathing for her”, “medically induced coma”. 

This couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t. This had to be the team’s sick, twisted idea of revenge for him bailing out on training today. But then he flashed back to Bob struggling to hold back tears or the tremble in Phoenix’s voice while she explained, and Jake knew this was really happening.

Realizing Jake wasn’t really comprehending anything he had just said, Rooster added, “She’s going to be okay. She’s strong. Honestly, I think she’s the strongest out of all of us.”

“I know,” Jake whispered. “I’ve always known that. So why didn’t I ever tell her? Why was the last thing I said to her about how she wasn’t good enough? Because it’s not true. It’s never been true. I just…. I’ve never been able to find the right words with her. Do you know I never even told her I loved her until last week?”

“Really?” Rooster asked in surprise. “Haven’t you two been like a thing for the last two years?”

“Yeah. We agreed to be exclusive when we left Top Gun the last time but with both of us stationed in different parts of the world– I don’t know. It never seemed right to say it. But the other day, she was just so beautiful and I had forgotten what it felt like to have her in my arms and it slipped out. I was so terrified of what she would say but the smile she gave me when she said she loved me too….” Jake closed his eyes and let his head thump harshly against the window. “Goddamn it, I love that woman. I need her to know that. But now, the last memory of me she might ever have is one of me walking away.” 

Rooster glanced over at him but then quickly looked away, clearing his throat. Jake knew he saw the tears rolling down his cheeks, but he didn’t care. Let Bradshaw think whatever he wanted of him. As long as you were okay, he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of him anymore.

They rode in silence the rest of the way. Once they arrived at the hospital, Rooster slowed his Bronco to a stop out front. Shifting uncertainly in his seat, he asked, “Do you want me to go in with you?”

The pity in the other man’s voice was almost too much for Jake to take. But instead of giving his typical snarky response, Jake just shook his head.

Rooster nodded. “They said she’s in room 627.”

Jake thanked him and got out of the truck. But just as he was about to shut the door, he paused. With his back still towards the other man, he said, “Rooster…. I know this has to be hard for you because of what happened to your dad. You didn’t have to drive me here. You didn’t have to… to be so nice to me. Especially after what I did yesterday. But I appreciate it.”

There was a pause and then the other man grunted, “Yeah, well, despite whatever differences we might have, she would want you here. And after what happened…. This is the only thing I can do to help her right now, so I’m doing it.”

Jake nodded slightly. “You’re a better man than me, Bradshaw.” He closed the door before Rooster had a chance to respond.

Jake got lost twice trying to locate your room and even once he found it, he almost went past it because he didn’t recognize the person laying in the bed.

He had to swallow the sob that immediately formed in his chest when he realized it was you. He could barely see your face behind all the various machinery, equipment, and tubing that was currently keeping you alive. And the parts he could see were swollen and bruised.

Clutching at the door frame, he had to steady himself as his knees began to give out. This couldn’t be happening, not to you. This had to be some sort of nightmare or hallucination or something. Maybe he drank too much at The Hard Deck and passed out. Or maybe his plane had crashed and this was some weird Twilight Zone coma dream.

And yet, he couldn’t escape reality. It was you in that bed. And it was all because he had stormed off and left you to clean up his mess, just like he always did.

Slowly, he approached the bed and lowered himself into the chair next to it. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, not this close up. So, instead, he stared at the floor as he whispered, “Zips… I’m so sorry. I should have been here. This should be me lying here instead of you. You were only in my plane because I was being a complete jackass. I should never have left. The second I did, I wanted to run back and scoop you into my arms and beg for your forgiveness.” 

He finally forced himself to at least look at your hand which was wrapped in layers of gauze with tubes and wires poking out. “And now I can’t even hold your hand without being afraid I’ll hurt you.” Jake buried his face in his hands as he tried to fight back the tears that were once again forming in his eyes.

There was a soft knock at the door and Jake’s head shot up to see his flight instructor standing in the doorway. He started to stand at attention, but Maverick motioned for him to remain seated.

“I’m not here as your superior. I’m here as a friend.” Mav smiled softly. “How is she?”

Jake swallowed thickly. “She’s, uh, she’s not good apparently. I-I just got here and haven't talked to the doctors yet, but Phoenix said she’s supposed to pull through. But I don’t know… it all looks so bad.” Jake hung his head, trying to focus on the tiles on the floor as a way of keeping it together, but it wasn’t doing much good.

Mav sighed. “She did everything she could when things went wrong. Honestly, I don’t think I could have done better.”

“But she shouldn’t have been there in the first place. It should have been me.”

“You’re right. It should have been.” Jake’s head snapped up at Maverick’s words but before he could say anything, the man continued. “You were scheduled to fly today and you didn’t, so she took your place to help her teammates. And no matter what anyone tells you, how it wasn’t your fault, how you couldn’t have known, how it was just an accident, you will never forgive yourself for what happened today. I don’t say this to place blame or judgment, I’m saying this from experience. This moment will change you as a pilot and as a man forever. Just make sure you take away the right lessons from it.”

“What are the right lessons?” Jake asked.

“Only you can figure that out. But try to learn from this, don’t let it destroy you.”

Jake hesitated but then asked, “You say you’re speaking from experience, sir. Do you mean what happened with Bradshaw’s father?”

Maverick sighed as he ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t know if Bradley wants people to know this, but I think it’s exactly what you need to hear right now and it’s as much my story as it is his father’s.” Maverick walked over and settled into one of the chairs along the far wall.

After another deep breath, he continued, “Goose was more than just my RIO. He was family to me. But I didn’t listen when he told me I needed to be a less reckless pilot. That I needed to stop trying to prove myself to everyone every time I climbed into the cockpit. But I didn’t listen to what anyone had to tell me. I thought I was the best and needed to make sure everyone else knew it too. So, I took risks I shouldn’t have and did things that put a lot of people in danger, not just me. And one day during practice, I was goading another pilot to stand down so I could take the shot and win the fight. But I was too close and when he was finally forced to bail out, we got caught in his jet wash. Both of our engines flamed out and we had to eject. But the canopy didn’t open correctly and Goose…. He didn’t make it.”

The older man leaned his head back against the wall as he closed his eyes and Jake could tell he was reliving that horrible moment again in his head.

“I was cleared of all wrongdoing and his death was ruled an accident. Even Goose’s own family– Rooster– didn’t blame me for what happened….. but I did. It might have been an accident, but I still put us in that position in the first place. And if I had just done my job like I was supposed to, he never…” He softly shook his head. “My point is, I almost quit. Well, in fact, I did quit. But I had people there to support me and help me find my way back. And I’m trying to pay it forward and be that for you.

“Yes, what happened was an accident. Yes, you’re always going to blame yourself anyway. But Hangman…. Jake…. she wouldn’t want you to give up because of this. She would want you to get back in the air and do your job. However, when you do, don’t forget why you weren’t in that plane today. Remember those reasons and do something to change them in the future. I’m not saying I was less reckless after what happened with Goose, but I did learn to look out for my fellow pilots and that it isn’t always about me when I was up in the sky. Maybe that’s something you should think about too.”   

Maverick got to his feet and took one last look at you laying in the bed. “You can stay here tonight, but I expect you to be on time for training in the morning. We’re already a pilot down and we’ll need everyone to be on top of their game. Do you think you can do that?”

For the first time, Jake looked at your face. It was bruised and broken yet it was still the woman he loved. You were here because you refused to let your team down, how could he do any less?

“I’ll be there, sir. And I’ll be ready.”

Jake couldn’t believe it had been over a week since your accident and three days since he last saw you. It had torn him up inside to leave you behind, yet he knew you would have never let him hear the end of it if you woke up and found out he had abandoned his post– his team– to stay with you instead of going on the mission. So, he left.

Maverick had been chosen as team leader and he selected Rooster as his wingman. Before your accident, Jake would have been furious and filed a claim of favoritism or preferential treatment but now, he reluctantly had to admit the other man was the better choice. Even if Jake’s head had been fully on the mission and not partially back in a hospital room on the other side of the world, the success of this mission depended on teamwork and trust, two things he had lacked up until now. So as much as the rejection had stung, he accepted it. But it all worked out in the end. The mission was a success, everyone made it back alive, and he had even gotten to play a part in it after all. 

But now, all he cared about was seeing you again. 

However, as he stepped out of the elevator and headed towards your room, Jake turned the corner just in time to see two doctors leaving room 627 wheeling out large pieces of equipment. He was too far away to hear what they were saying, but one of them shook his head sadly as he stared at the floor. 

Jake took off running, his heart pounding in his chest as the fear of what he would find when he reached your door threatened to overtake him. He couldn’t remember a single time in the air he had been more terrified than he was at this moment. And when he burst through your door, he almost collapsed at the sight before him.

You were sitting propped up and most of the machines had been removed including the ventilator, which meant you were now breathing on your own. But best of all, you were staring back at him with slightly glazed eyes (probably from all the pain meds you were on), and a soft smile spread across your face as you recognized your visitor.

“Hey…” Your voice was faint and raspy after so long without use. Of course, having tubes shoved down your throat for the past week hasn't helped either. Your skin was still sickly looking, and you still had casts and bandages over large portions of your body, but you looked so much better than you had the last time he had seen you.

Jake swallowed heavily before he managed to whisper, “Hey. How are you?”

“I hurt…. everywhere. And I can’t really move too much between the broken bones, casts, or stitches, but I guess it’s better than the alternative.” Your eyes darkened for a moment and Jake knew you were thinking about how close you came to not being here at all.

Slowly, he began approaching your bed. “How long have you been awake?”

“Two days but they just took the ventilator out yesterday. It hurt like hell.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“They contacted Maverick, but I asked him not to tell you. I didn’t want to distract you from the mission.” You gave Jake a warm smile as you said, “And I guess it worked. I hear you’re a hero. Though I always knew that.”

Jake shook his head as he stared down at the floor. “Nah, Mav and Rooster are the real heroes. I just swooped in to save their asses at the end.”

“Wow. Giving the credit to others? Who are you and what have you done with the man I love?”

Jake’s eyes snapped to your face. “The man you–? Still? Even after everything I said to you? I was afraid–”

Your soft chuckle cut him off as you rolled your eyes. “It was a fight, Jake. Sure, your words really hurt me, but if I was going to call it quits the first time you said something rude or insensitive, we wouldn’t have made it past our first date.”

“Am I really such a jerk?”

“I would say jackass, but not all the time. And usually not to me, though you can have your moments. But that’s okay. Because you’re my jackass.” You tried to give him a wide smile, but it caused you to wince in pain instead.  

Jake sat down by the bed as he shook his head. “You shouldn’t be here. None of this should have happened. You don’t deserve it.”

Your hand slid over and gently rested on top of his. The gauze was still there but most of the tubes and wires had been removed. Curling your fingers weakly around his thumb, you managed to give it a slight squeeze. “Jake, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I was supposed to be in that plane, not you. If I hadn’t stormed off–”

“Then you might be laying in the morgue instead of a hospital bed. Or you might have realized something was wrong and landed before the engine blew up. Or you might have crashed into Phoenix and Bob and taken them down too. Or, because of this, there might not have been anyone there to save Maverick and Rooster. There’s no point in thinking about what if’s because we’ll never know. We’re both still here. That’s all I care about.” Jake could tell you meant that, but the forlorn look on your face as you glanced away made him realize there was more going on.

“There’s something else. Something you’re not telling me.”

You shook your head softly. “It’s nothing. We can talk about it later.”

“No, it’s obviously really bothering you. I– I want to help.”

“Jake…. You can’t fix this.” Your voice suddenly grew thick with unshed tears, and you tried to pull your hand away, but Jake held it firmly in place.

“Baby, what is it?”

You took a shuddering breath before whispering, “They told me it’s highly unlikely I’ll ever be able to go up in a fighter plane again. With the G’s… my heart and lungs were too damaged. They won’t be able to handle it.” You let out a strangled sob as tears welled up in your eyes. “I’m grounded. Permanently. As soon as I’m out of the hospital, they’re taking my wings and medically discharging me from the Navy.”

Jake couldn’t believe it. Flying meant just as much to you as it did to him, and he couldn’t imagine his life without it. “Zips–”

But you shook your head, tears finally cresting over your eyelids and trickling down your cheeks as you cut him off. “That won’t be me for much longer. Civilians don’t need callsigns.”

Jake cupped your face in his hands as he used his thumb to wipe away your tears, “Hey, no matter what happens, you’ll always be my Zipper. Okay? No one can take that away from you.”

You nodded, your tears beginning to flow faster. But when you looked at him, Jake only saw adoration shining in your eyes. “I love you, Jake.”

“I love you too, Zips. I love you so damn much. And we’ll figure this out, okay? Together.”

As you smiled at him, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. There had been times over the last week that he feared he would never be able to kiss you again, and that even if you pulled through, you wouldn’t want anything to do with him after the way he acted. And he wouldn’t have blamed you. 

He had been acting like an arrogant, spoiled little boy for far too long, and with the struggles and obstacles that lay ahead, you needed someone better. And he could be better. He could be the man you needed. Because Jake loved you with all of his heart, and he was never going to leave your side again. 

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[bubble-you]

the smoke break WIP @niccage fic ‘the bunny manual’

[rootsmachine]

eulogy singer -- simone pov; you wake up in a hospital bed and no one will tell you where your wife is. simone im so sorry the writers actively ignored u! i love u!

you wake up alone and in the dark and there’s a sign that says 'your name is simone abara. you’ve been in a car accident. your son is okay. ' it doesn’t mention taissa, who you know was there with you. you don’t remember the crash, or the moments leading up to it, but you remember her call, telling you that sammy had walked from school all the way home. you remember how you believed her, how the panic settled in your hands and lungs when he wasn’t in his room. your son is okay, the sign insists, but it says nothing about your wife.

[pearthery]

I could no longer move my mouth. It was alright, it did not bother me. I was at peace, listening to Sakata go on, grunting every now and then. Who knew he could be this talkative! It took some doing, though. Few days of slow dying, and he opens up like a flower. I wanted to tell him we should have talked like this a year ago. I wanted to tell him I would have loved to see Katsura go at it in a bare-knuckle match. I wanted to tell him I was sorry I would not make it. It had been an honour to have met him. Not in that stuffy, samurai way, but in the way two friends were honoured to have met each other. But really, there was only one thing I really wanted to tell the man patiently keeping me company while I breathed my final breaths. If I had never learned a thing about Yoshida Shoyou, and knew only that you were his student, I could still say I had met him.

crying about you and me and the devil makes three again,,, i miss mikkun,, few days of slow dying and he opens up like a flower.....