#'robert how much did you sleep last night?'

[jacenotjason]

Random Hatzgang headcannon: You know those people who collects Monster/Rockstar energy drink cans? Ross is one of ‘em, and Roy and Robert poke fun at him but also help him collect cans (Roy gets Ross those really rare flavors)

OhMYGOODNESS I love this

Ross is such a fuckign NERD and i love him

i also have a hc that Robert is a horrible insomniac so maybe he drinks energy drinks at like 3am and then gives the cans to Ross in the morning

[mythos-writes]

Welcome Home

Cillian Murphy x wife! Reader

Plot: Cillian was scheduled to come home after filming. When he walked through the door (Y/N) was quite shocked at what she saw…

Word Count: 918

Warning: suggested sexual themes (No spoilers) This is a work of fiction

I saw Oppenheimer the other night and, omg I hope everyone who took part in making it is proud of this film.

Masterlist

It was the final weeks of filming Christopher Nolen's newest movie, Oppenheimer. It had been months since (Y/N) and Cillian had seen each other face to face, and she was ready to see him in the flesh. They saw eachother for a little bit between the ending filming of Peaky Blinders and before he left for Oppenheimer. She had flown out to set early into the filming of the movie. Then life got in the way and the only way that they could see and hear each other was through Facetime and phone calls. 

She had been baking all day, and as it turned into the afternoon, she knew she needed to start on dinner. (Y/N) started prepping for one of Cillian’s favourite dishes, when she heard the door unlock and open. A shuffle of suitcases and shoes is heard from the entranceway of the home.

“(Y/N)? Are you home?” Cillian’s voice rings through their shared home. 

She quickly finished up what she was cutting, and whipped her hands on her pants before running out of the kitchen to meet him. 

“Cill, oh how I’ve missed you,” she says before jumping into his arms, squeezing him as she hugged him. 

“Oh I’ve missed you too love,” he replies, squeezing her just as hard. They latched onto eachother and didn’t want to let go. When they finally let go of each other, she saw how much weight he had lost. She knew he was gonna lose some weight for the role, but she didn’t think he was gonna change that much. 

“What is it?” he asks, a little worried at (Y/N)’s silence. 

“I didn’t think you would lose so much weight,” she states. He was always fit and skinny but for his role as J. Robert Oppenheimer, he needed to lose some of the Tommy shape that he had come accustomed to over the years.

“Don’t worry love, Tommy is still here,” he says jokingly in his signature Birmingham accent. She rolls her eyes before dragging him to the bedroom. When they entered the room Cillian brought her into a deep kiss. (Y/N) tugged on his shirt, wanting it off. He gently pushes her onto the bed, giving him a chance to take it off. 

“You take a shower and a nap. I’ll come wake you when dinner is ready,” she says while placing one last kiss on his lips. He didn’t let go quite yet. 

“I love you,” he says as he studied his wife and placed a few kisses along her jaw and neck before letting her go. 

“I love you too,” she replies before leaving the bedroom. 

A few hours later, (Y/N) had finished cooking and plated everything for the two of them. She cleaned up a little, before walking back up to the bedroom to see hopefully her sleeping husband. She slowly opened the door, revealing a sleeping Cillian. His hair was still wet, revealing that he did have a shower. 

She walked over to his side of the bed, sitting beside him. He slightly moved, but that was because of the sinking of the bed. She leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Nothing.

Wow, he must be in a deep sleep she thought before placing a few more kisses across his face. He moved a little, but his eyes didn’t open. (Y/N) then got an idea that would truly get him up. She got up and maneuvered herself to lie on top of her husband. He let out a groan at the new weight that was added onto him. She knew he was awake now. 

“Come on babe, it is time to get up,” she whispers in his ear. He moved his head to face her, which made her laugh.

Somehow he wrapped his arms around her and wrestled her underneath him. Cillian hovers over her, sleep still clear over his features. 

“Dinner is ready,” she says with a smile. He just shakes his head before lowering himself onto her, repaying the favour that she just did. She groaned when the full weight of him was felt. 

“Cillian, come on. Dinner is getting cold,” she states, trying to not let him fall asleep again. 

“We have a microwave for a reason love,” he rebuttals, getting comfortable on her stomach. She sighed knowing he had won this round. (Y/N) adjusted herself before playing with his damp curly hair. When he was away, she missed these small moments that they shared. Leaving the hustle and bustle of everyday life and the crazy filming schedule Cillian would have to navigate. But in these moments everything goes away. It was their escape from reality for a little while. 

“I love you so much Cillian,” she says before placing a kiss on the crown of his head. He looked up at her and returned the kiss on her sternum. 

“I love you so much more, (Y/N),” he replies. He placed another kiss on her stomach before closing his eyes again. 

“Welcome home,” she replies quietly before going back to playing with his hair, soothing him back to sleep. Leaving their dinner to cool, and to be reheated later.

[ihopeicanchangethislater05]

these last few episodes have moved me, maybe i was too young the last time i watched them to understand but this time they hit so fucking hard

everytime wilson brought up that he was dying it did something to me

especially the scene in the car where he asks house to tell him that he loves him. whatever i say, seeing robert sean leonard cry is so hard for me. this isnt the first time but yet even when he is crying his eyes crinkle up and it shouldnt be cute considering the scene but god.

and wilson allowing house to let go of him by not helping him with his devious plan about the tickets just says that hes preparing house for a life without him. where wilson wont be there to guard house as his conscience from the stupid shit house will do.

and oh my god ep 19 that was such a rollercoaster

seeing wilson act the way he did. so carefree, and so indifferent it just felt like maybe once he actually deserved to be selfish for what he was doing. although it lasted only a day or two i think he found himself, with the old woman. wilson will always be wilson and how much ever he tried, he could never go without caring for others.

isnt that the other reason why he came back to house that night and told him he would do the chemo. for him.

when the building was burning down and wilson had just seen his best friend of 20 years die infront of his eyes, there was so much in his eyes that we could tell without him needing to say it out loud. and when they brought out the body, wilson was wrapped up in a blanket saying he stayed the whole damm night to know if his best friend was dead. in that scene for me rsl's expressions were so on fucking point cos however hurt he was i couldnt pin point an emotion on his face at all

not to talk about the last scene, cos if i do i think i will cry again

thank you for my ted talk i just needed to get this out of my system and sleep peacefully

[redgoldblue]

so assuming Avery is actually pregnant / doesn't early-trimester miscarry (which is not a given), there's two reasonable ways this can go, right. number one is she gets an abortion, the plotline is used to pull them all back together again, and they all have some collective hurt/comfort about it. number two, the one i would write - don't get me wrong, i'm all for women getting career-driven abortions, but hear me out - is the one where she does have the baby. under the cut bc it got long.

she goes to med school at first while pregnant - Max is right, it can be done, people in my cohort did it - and either gets lucky with the timing of the actual birth being during holidays, or just works her way to getting time off for a few weeks around it. And then... there's a baby. And you know what else there is? There's two dads (because we're 100% Mamma Mia-ing this bitch. they never find out who the bio dad is and they never seriously try. Baby comes out with Avery's exact skin tone so that's no clue.), and an entire cruise ship worth of backup babysitters. So Avery goes back to med school, and leaves the baby with Tristan and Max.

And, yes, raising a baby while also running an infirmary with a rotating cast of temporary substitute nurses filling Avery's role isn't the easiest thing they've ever done, but Robert loves fulfilling grandparent duties any time he's not on duty; Rosie gets one of those strap-on baby carriers and walks her (i don't know why i've decided the baby is a her but i have now) around the engine room pointing out parts and explaining concepts and hey, the baby never complains about her Michigan stories; Corey gets a cart and a bundle of clean sheets and pushes her down the corridors until the smell of laundry powder automatically makes her start laughing.

Max and Tristan make a pact to send Avery at least two photos a day - which ends up getting supplemented by everyone else who's with Baby - and FaceTime her most days, and whenever she gets a few days off she meets them in port. (The most expensive part of baby-raising ends up being her flights to wherever the Odyssey happens to be at the time, at least until Robert finds out and figures out a way to start paying her 'maternity leave', despite her insistence that the whole point of this is that she isn't maternity-leaving and he should probably be paying himself that and anyway, isn't she technically not an employee right now?)

And the thing is, during this time, Max and Tristan start... realising some things. Like how neither of them feel like they've lost their only partner, because they.. haven't. Like how the co-parenting's been working out better than either of them expected, because they fell instantly (minus a few minor bumps) into a shared rhythm. Like how sometimes they look at the other one holding Baby and feel like their heart's about to explode.

Also, they've both started sleeping in Max's bed. Because Baby's spent so much time sleeping in the corner of the infirmary that now if she wakes up at night and can't see both of them, she starts crying inconsolably. And obviously Max's suite is more suited to multiple inhabitants, and they're usually too damn exhausted to even remember the first time they were in this bed together.

(usually. most of the time. and when they're not, they don't make it the other's problem)

So at the end of the first year of this, the last two days of the year's last cruise have been packed with crisis after crisis after demanding patient after crisis, and as soon as they finally wave the last passenger off they hand Baby gratefully over to Robert and go crash out in Max's bed.

Avery was supposed to be meeting them on board tomorrow, but her last exam gets unexpectedly moved up by a day (believe me, med school loves to pull that kind of shit on you), so a couple hours after the passengers have gone, she shows up to surprise them. And finds Robert (a known ody3 shipper) first, who lets her take Baby with minimal captainly sulking about it, and while she rocks and kisses Baby, tells her (as a known ody3 shipper) that the two dads will be on the Pelican deck, but they're probably asleep.

Avery kinda frowns at him, but doesn't question it, and takes Baby up with her to Max's suite to find them. And they are both fast asleep, on either side of Max's bed with a space carefully preserved between them (because it's usually where Baby would be and they're both terrified of accidentally rolling onto her in the middle of the night). She's also exhausted after exams, so she crawls into it, lies on her back with Baby on top of her chest, and goes straight to sleep.

Tristan and Max wake up before her, and when they look across at each other, at Avery and Baby between them, they both simultaneously realise, oh. oh. oh, this - this three, two-and-half, four people, all together - this is it. this is the love, this is the children, this might even be the home - the second, third, fourth bucket list items to happen in this bed.

[floralcyanide]

𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 - 𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧!𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫

cillian murphy!oppenheimer x reader

DISCLAIMER: this is fanfiction. it isn’t real. Oppenheimer is a real person, however Cillian!Oppenheimer is not. he is a character. if you have something bad to say just keep it in the drafts (:

“let's all go play Nagasaki, we can all get vaporized. hold my hand, let's turn to ash. I'll see you on the other side.” - 137 by Brand New

warnings: spoilers for Oppenheimer, descriptions of nuclear bomb/ explosion, fear

word count: 1316

author's note: I love Cillian so much, and he did so good in Oppy!! I just had to write about it. please keep in mind there are spoilers in this, don't read if you haven't seen the movie. also, there's only like, one other fic on here for Cillian!Oppy which is sad but I'm sure there'll be more soon. (:

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

For the last few nights, Robert has woken up abruptly from his sleep. He’ll sit upright and pant, trying his best to catch his breath. It alarms you every time he does this despite him acting like it didn’t happen. But you know he doesn’t go back to sleep after because you feel him toss and turn until morning. Test day is tomorrow, and you can feel Robert’s nervous energy radiating off him. This was it- this was the epitome of his life’s work, and if it failed, he would be lost. And you’re torn between wanting it not to work for humanity’s sake and wanting it to work for Robert’s. 

You have worked alongside your husband for many years despite the pushback from society. But he knows your intelligence and insisted you be involved in the Project. He refused to have anything to do with it unless you assisted him. Lieutenant Groves reluctantly agreed, but he still knew just how capable you were to help with the Project. 

You’re very much a housewife outside of work, though. Despite being a knowledgeable person, you still have duties at home. You’re busy folding laundry when Robert exits the bedroom after getting ready for a meeting. It was the last one before tomorrow’s events. Robert doesn’t say much to you before bidding his farewell and heading out. It wasn’t abnormal for him to mumble a goodbye before putting his hat on and leaving without anything else said. He was reserved unless it was necessary to say something. That’s one thing you admired about Robert; he could be cynical and sarcastic yet humble and a man of few words. 

You would attend a later meeting that evening, so it’s possible you may not see Robert until bedtime. You aren’t worried about him not kissing your son goodnight or missing dinner. You mostly worry he won’t sleep enough.

Later in bed, you and Robert both lay on your backs, staring at the ceiling wordlessly. 

“How are you feeling?” you suddenly ask, breaking the eerie silence.

Robert opens his mouth before shutting it again, shrugging.

You sigh, turning on your side to face him, “I can feel you have nightmares, you know.”

Robert cuts his eyes toward you before giving in and rolling over to face you as well, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you furrow your brow, “There’s nothing to be sorry for. What we’re- what you’re doing is incredibly stressful and world-changing. It’s normal to be anxious over it.”

“That’s exactly why I’m anxious.”

“Which part?”

“The world-changing part.”

You’re quiet for a moment before answering, “What do you dream about?”

Robert’s eyes study yours closely, searching for any instance of potential recoil from what he’s about to tell you. He searches even though he knows he won’t find it because Robert knows that you’d never leave him no matter what. Even if his nightmares were incomparable to even the most descriptive horror stories. What’s worse is that Robert knows no one has ever seen the results of a bomb the magnitude of the one he’s created. So it’s up to his imagination. And his imagination is one of grotesque imagery that he hopes won’t come to fruition.

“Death,” Robert says plainly, with a cold look, “Destruction. Everything in my dreams is obliterated by fire and disintegrates into ash, and even the ash turns into nothingness.”

You purse your lips, gently reaching your hand up to touch Robert’s cheek, running your thumb over his cheekbone.

“I don’t fear for me or for us. I fear for our children,” Robert gives a watery laugh, “And the world they’ll have to grow up in knowing that such weaponry exists.”

You tuck Robert’s head into your chest, “You are merely the creator, darling. You have no control over how they use your creation. And I know that worries you, but you cannot do much about it.”

“I know. You’re right. But the fact I’m the one responsible for such a destructive device,” Robert trails off.

“Your creation is for science exploration and nothing more,” you say, “Remember that tomorrow.”

When you awake at two in the morning to prepare for the test, Robert has already gotten up from bed. You figure he didn’t sleep and has already made his way down the street to prepare. You hurriedly get dressed, grab your son, and walk out the front door. You let your neighbor, one of the wives of another scientist, watch over your son while you and Robert are away. A vehicle has been sent to your home, probably by Robert, to retrieve you. The ride is quiet and bumpy. You figure they would take you to the main hall, but they keep driving into the desert. Everyone must already be at Trinity. 

Trinity is alight, with people who worked on the project scurrying around to find the perfect spot to watch the explosion. You climb off the vehicle and run to the tent where Robert resides with the others. A relieved smile grows on his face when he sees you walk in.

“I didn’t want to see this without you,” he says, pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Did you sleep at all?” you mutter into his shoulder.

“Unfortunately, no. But sleep can come later,” Robert says, returning to the detonation station. 

You cross your arms and walk around aimlessly, watching the scientists scramble to take their places and put sun shades on.

“Ninety minutes,” Robert says from behind you.

You turn around to look at him, a half smile growing on your face, “I’m proud of you.”

“And I’m proud of you, too. Without your suggestions, we may not be here,” Robert plays with a loose strand of your hair.

“I doubt that,” you chuckle, “Your brainpower alone has done the job.”

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Robert says.

After a little under an hour and a half of checking that everything was perfect and prepared, everyone took their places where they wanted to view the test. You’re next to Robert, with goggles on your face that match his. Both of you have ports to get a fantastic view. The countdown begins.

Everyone becomes dead silent as the bomb is detonated. The flash causes you to gasp, your eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness despite the goggles. When the light subsides, you see a mushroom cloud of nothing but fire beginning to rise to the atmosphere. Beside you, Robert grabs hold of your hand and grasps it tightly. 

“Now I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds,” Robert says with a haunting tone.

You remove your goggles along with everyone else as you squint against the harsh brightness. Before you is the most terrifying, breathtaking thing you’ve ever seen. A firestorm that is capable of mass destruction. A scientific miracle. But before anyone can relax, the sound of air rumbling and rushing toward the tent is heard. The sound of the explosion hits the viewing base violently. The blast wave smacks everyone as they brace themselves against the high wind. Once the hot gust of air subsides and the explosion tapers down, everyone begins to cheer and clap.

“We did it,” Robert says in disbelief before he looks up at you, “We actually did it.”

You nod, smiling at him proudly before engulfing him in a hug.

“I have destroyed the world,” Robert whispers in your ear, and you pull away to see an odd flash of emotion cross his face.

“You haven’t,” you whisper back, as people begin to approach your husband, “But you’ve changed it forever.”

As colleagues surround Robert and move him outside, you remain in the tent for a moment. You replay the mushroom-looking explosion in your head. You begin to ponder what the Manhattan Project’s creation will do for the world. And whether it’s good or bad.

Either way, everyone has been forever changed.

[arcane-vagabond]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Two

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Two

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Flirty Bradley, Sassy Bob, Talks of the supernatural, Mentions of drowning, An almost fight?, Possessive behavior, Jake Seresin. I think that's it?

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: So tomorrow I leave town for a couple of days! I don't know how much I'll be able to post until Saturday or Sunday, but I'll do my best! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist

You awoke feeling groggy, eyes blinking against the stream of sunlight that filtered through the window. You didn’t remember drinking enough last night to feel this hungover. No, you were sure you’d only had the two whiskey cokes, not nearly enough to make you feel this way. Perhaps it was the drive catching up with you. Yeah, that had to be it.

You slowly sat up, head throbbing as you caught a glimpse of the ocean outside your window. You thought back to the silver tail you had seen disappear beneath the waves.

“What a weird dream,” you muttered, shaking your head. You moved to get up, quickly getting dressed in a simple t-shirt and shorts combo before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

Bob was already munching away at the plate of bacon Susan had set out, the older woman flipping over a pancake on the stove.

“Robert Floyd, you better save some bacon for everyone else,” she warned without even a glance over her shoulder at him. Bob paused mid-chew to stare wide-eyed at her back before seeing you at the doorway, a grin already on your lips.

“Yeah, Robert,” you giggled, “save some for the rest of us.”

He scowled at you as Susan turned to smile warmly at you.

“Good morning, dear!” She beamed. “How did you sleep?”

You sat down at the island next to Bob just as Susan placed a plate at the same spot.

“I had the craziest dream last night,” you hummed, stealing a piece of bacon off of Bob’s plate, earning yourself an unamused look from said man.

“Oh yeah?” Susan asked. “What about?”

“Well,” you started, chewing on your bite of bacon, “I dreamed that I woke up last night and heard a weird song.”

“What?” Bob laughed, looking over at you. You giggled, continuing.

“Yeah! And it was weird because it sounded like a weird mix between a human and a whale. And when I got up, I went to look out the window, and I saw a giant silver tail disappear into the water!”

Bob’s chewing slowed to a stop as the smile dropped from his face, and Susan stiffened by the stove. Your eyes darted between the two of them.

“Did I say something wrong?” You asked them, unsure as to what had them so tense. Bob shook his head with a reassuring smile.

“No, of course not,” he told you. Susan relaxed her shoulders and turned to you with an apologetic look.

“It seems I’ll have to have a talk with my husband about him and his stories,” she said, a look of annoyance passing over her face.

You shook your head. “Oh, it’s no worries! I’m sure I just drank too much last night. That coupled with the drive here, I’m sure it was nothing.”

Susan looked at you for a beat longer before turning back to her pancakes. Bob huffed a laugh as he took another bite of his breakfast. “Dad is so getting his ass chewed out later.”

“Hey!” Susan barked, whipping back around to point her spatula at him. “Language, mister.”

“Sorry, Mom,” he blushed, ducking his head sheepishly. You laughed at the two of them before bumping your shoulder into his.

“So what’s the plan for today?” You asked. Bob perked up at your question.

“Oh!” He chirped. “I figured we could go hang out with Mickey and Nat today. The others are going to be busy setting up for the festival, so it’ll just be the four of us.”

“Sounds great!” You smiled. “Any specific plans?”

“You should take her to see the different shops!” Susan suggested over her shoulder.

Bob rolled his eyes with a grimace. “The tourist traps?”

“Not all of them are tourist traps, Bobby,” she chided. “Besides, maybe she’ll find something she likes while you’re there. A souvenir for the summer!”

You stared at the porcelain figurine intently. It reminded you of the one sitting on your dresser back home, except this mermaid was mid-song, her red lips parted like she was crooning.

“I told you it was a tourist trap,” Bob muttered beside you. You looked up at him with a grin.

“Nah, it’s cute,” you giggled. “I love mermaids, remember?”

“I know a couple someones who will love to hear that,” Mickey muttered with a smirk, crying out when Nat elbowed him in the rib.

“What do you mean?” You ask, brow furrowing at him. Nat smiled at you, pushing past the scowling man at her side.

“Nothing,” she said. “Have you found anything you like yet?”

You hummed, glancing around the store. “No, not yet. I don’t know if I want a souvenir from a shop, anyway. I think I’d prefer collecting seashells from the beach.”

“Perhaps you’ll get lucky and catch the eye of a handsome merman,” the older shopkeeper said. Your group turned to look at her, her eyes twinkling.

“Oh, yeah?” You giggled. You faltered when you saw the others frowning at the old woman, but she continued on.

“Oh my, yes,” she smiled. “The legend goes that every year the sea people undergo what can only be described as a mating season. They seek out a partner for the summer, satiating their hunger. That’s what the festival celebrates, after all. But every five years, an individual will undergo a much more intense version, seeking out a permanent mate. It’s called the frenzy.”

“Why do they call it that?” You ask her, curiosity getting the better of you.

The old woman chuckled. “Simply put? The sea people will go crazy trying to find and stake claim to their chosen mate. The desire nearly drives them mad, turning them into the monsters the legends claim them to be.”

“What do you mean by mate?”

“Just that, dear child. During the frenzy is when a sea person picks their life partner. It’s an irreversible bond.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Nat frowned, grabbing your elbow. She shot a glare at the old woman before tugging you towards the door. “We need to get going.”

“But I still have questions!” You cried, stumbling out the door after her. The bell above the door rang as the four of you exited onto the sidewalk. All around, people were setting up for the summer long festival. Banners were being hung up over the streets and decorations lined the sidewalks, mermaids covering nearly every surface you looked at.

Nat dropped her grip from your arm, and you scowled at her.

“What was that for?” You grumbled, rubbing at your arm. “It was just getting interesting!”

“Mrs. Cambroni needs to learn when to shut her mouth,” she huffed, glaring back at the door. Bob slung an arm around your shoulder with a small smile.

“They’re just stories, anyway,” he told you, hugging you close. “Besides, you’ll have all summer to learn about the town legends. We’re here to have fun, remember?”

“I thought you said it was impossible to have fun in a small town?” You teased him, anger quickly melting as you all began making your way down the sidewalk. He rolled his eyes playfully at you.

“I did not say that.”

“You definitely implied it.”

“Alright,” he grinned. “You got me there.”

“Do you guys wanna go get ice cream?” Mickey asked, looking over his shoulder from where he walked next to Nat.

You perked up. “Ice cream sounds amazing!”

After securing your double scoop of rocky road, you followed the others back down the street as they argued over what to do next.

“But they have some really good movies out!” Mickey exclaimed, and Nat rolled her eyes at him.

“There are way better things we could do than go see a damn movie,” she snarked.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“We could take one of the boats out?” Bob suggested.

Nat smiled as Mickey scowled.

“And do what?” The other man huffed.

“Obviously, we would be swimming,” Nat shot back at him. You giggled as the three continued to argue amongst themselves.

“Hey! If it isn’t the three stooges plus y/n!”

All four of you looked up to see Bradley leaning off a ladder holding a banner in his hands. He was grinning widely, shirt nowhere to be seen. Below him, holding the ladder, was the blond man, Jake, from the bar the night before. He was also shirtless, and his green eyes were already on you, and you felt your cheeks heat up. You prayed none of your ice cream had made a home on your face. Javy and Reuben came walking out of the nearest building carrying another banner and also missing their shirts.

“Hey meatheads,” Nat huffed with a roll of her eyes. “Where are your shirts?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Bradley drawled, rolling his eyes back at her, “It’s like a billion degrees out here. A man’s gotta keep cool, ain’t that right, sunshine?”

You giggled as he shot a wink at you, and you noticed as Jake clenched his jaw at the exchange. Bradley hopped off the ladder and strolled over towards the rest of you with the blond right behind him, eyes still trained on you.

“What do you guys have planned for the rest of the day?” Reuben asked. Nat swung an arm around your shoulder.

“We’re gonna teach Skipper here how to drive a boat,” she grinned.

“Skipper?” You questioned, raising your eyebrow. She nodded excitedly, and Bradley hummed, looking at you thoughtfully.

“I like it,” he decided with a nod. “It suits you.”

“Whatever that means,” you mumbled. Mickey put his hands on his hips as he glared at the brunette beside you.

“I thought we were going swimming?” He demanded.

Nat dropped her arm from around your shoulder, crossing her arms in front of her. “We are, but we’re going to teach Skipper how to captain a boat first. Besides, I thought you didn’t want to go?”

You watched as the two began to bicker amongst themselves again. If you hadn’t known any better, you would think the two hated each other. Bob walked off to help Reuben, Bradley, and Javy hang up the other banner a little ways down the street. You felt someone step up beside you, and you turned to see Jake still looking down at you.

“Hi,” he said softly, smirking. “I don’t think we were ever properly introduced. I’m Jake.”

You smiled up at him shyly. “I’m y/n, but I guess it’s Skipper now.”

He let out a chuckle as he leaned in closer to you. You felt your heartbeat quicken, and the way his smirk grew wider made you think that maybe he could hear it. You shook off the thought, putting all of your effort into maintaining some semblance of rationale.

“You know,” he hummed, eyes studying you, “Bradley isn’t right about a lot of things, but he is right about that.”

“What?” You breathed, eyes becoming hooded. You could have sworn you saw the glow in his eyes again as they bore into yours. Your head began to feel lighter the longer you stared at him, a yearning tugging you towards him. His breath fanned over you as he leaned in closer.

“Skipper!”

You jumped, taking a stumbling step back, nearly falling as someone caught you. You thought you heard a growl as your head began to throb. You looked up to see that it was Bob who had his arms around you, keeping you steady. His eyes were trained in a glare past where you stood, and you turned to see Bradley and Javy on either side of Jake. If looks could kill, Bob would be six feet under already. Jake’s jaw was clenched so tight, you wouldn’t be surprised if his teeth were cracked. Green eyes stared intently at Bob, whose gaze didn’t waver from his friends.

“Bob?” You questioned, the bespectacled man looking down at you. “What happened?”

“Uh,” he started, seeming to be unsure as to how to respond.

“Bob bumped into you on accident, and you almost fell,” Natasha smiled, stepping forward to take you out of Bob’s arms. You saw Jake relax a little out of the corner of your eye, but your head was still too fuzzy to pay it much mind.

“Why is everyone so angry?” You asked her, your voice sounding weak and uncertain even to you. She smiled gently down at you as she sat you down on the steps by the sidewalk.

“It’s just a combination of the heat and good old-fashioned testosterone,” she explained, patting your back soothingly. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“My head,” you trailed off, rubbing at your temples.

“Here,” Reuben smiled at you, offering you a bottle of water. You took it with a grateful smile, taking small sips from the bottle.

“Feeling better?” Mickey asked you, brows pinched in worry. You smiled and gave him a nod.

“Much,” you said, looking around at the group who looked back at you worriedly.

You sighed. “I’m sorry, everyone.”

“What on earth for?” Asked Javy.

Grimacing, you responded, “For making everyone worry about me.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Skipper,” Bradley assured you, smiling at you reassuringly. “The heat gets to the best of us. Isn’t that right, Jake?”

Bradley clapped the blond on the shoulder, giving him a pointed look. Jake frowned, letting out a muttered “yeah” as he looked away.

“Do you wanna call it a day?” Mickey asked you, and you shook your head.

“I’d still like to go swimming if that’s okay.”

“You sure?” Bob asked you, eyes still full of worry. You smiled back at him with a nod.

“Absolutely!”

“You should be careful,” Jake spoke up, and you turned to look at him. The anger was still in his eyes, but it had calmed significantly. An unreadable expression now graced his face. “A storm is coming.”

“How do you know?” You asked him, brow furrowing.

“He’s right,” Javy said as Reuben and Bradley nodded. “A storm is on the way.”

“We’ll be extra careful,” Nat promised them, helping you to your feet. “Scout’s honor!”

Bradley chuckled at her mock salute before shooting you another wink. “Maybe we’ll catch up with you guys later?”

“If not tonight, then we’ll see you at the bonfire tomorrow!” Mickey hollered as you, Nat, and Bob followed him down the sidewalk towards the docks.

“Don’t have too much fun without us!” Reuben called after you all.

“We’ll hold off on teaching Skipper how to drive the boat until you guys can join us!” Nat yelled back.

“Wait, you were serious about that?” You squawked, earning a chorus of laughter from your group.

A couple of hours later, you found yourself sitting on Mickey’s parent’s boat, the rock of the waves sending a wave of nerves up your spine as they became rougher. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to being on a boat. The sun had long been obscured by the grey clouds that seemed to have rolled in out of nowhere, but the others didn’t seem shocked by the sudden turn.

“How did they know it was going to storm?” You asked them, watching as darker clouds began to roll in.

“When you live by the ocean your whole life, you just get a sense for those types of things,” Nat told you as Mickey and Bob scrambled to get the boat ready to leave. You eyed the clouds wearily as Mickey cursed behind you.

“They’re never going to let us hear the end of it if they find out we stayed out this long,” he muttered.

Nat rolled her eyes. “So hurry up and get us back to shore before they do.”

Mickey scowled at her but continued with what he was doing. A couple of minutes later, and the waves were rocking the boat almost violently, and you found yourself gripping your seat anxiously.

“Alright, we’re ready!” Bob called from the side. Mickey started up the boat’s engine, and the vessel jerked as he began to maneuver it back to land. You hit a particularly rough wave, causing Nat to lose her balance and topple into the seats opposite yours.

“Easy, Mickey!” She snapped, glaring at the man.

“I’m taking her as easy as I can!” He hollered back at her, a look of worry flashing across his face as the boat dipped into the waves. A gush of water hit you, and your arms flew up to shield your face. At that same moment, another wave knocked into the boat, causing you to fly over the side as you jerked back from the wall of water to your front.

“Y/n!” You heard someone shout, Bob maybe, but it was too late.

The water swallowed you whole, gripping you in its clutches as you scrambled to get your bearings. The water was dark, and you began to panic as you realized you couldn’t tell which was up and which way was down. Your arms thrashed around you as you fought for air, but it was no use. Your lungs ached and burned from lack of oxygen, and you felt a sense of dread as you realized that you were about to die. You stopped fighting, feeling a sense of acceptance at your fate. Your vision began to darken as you let your mind drift off. You hoped your parents wouldn’t mourn you for too long and hoped desperately that your friends wouldn’t blame themselves.

You were just about to enter unconsciousness when you heard an eerily familiar song. The sound of a human and a whale mixed together pulled at you, getting closer with each passing second. It was strange what the mind came up with to calm itself in its last moments. You felt a pair of strong, muscular arms wrap around you, lifting you up, your bare legs brushing against what felt like scales. Of course your mind would turn to mermaids in the end. Maybe you’d be reborn as one in your next life. You hoped as much, at the very least.

Your head broke the surface, rain pelting your face as small waves of water rushed up to you.

“C’mon, darlin’,” a voice called to you from far off, “stay with me.”

You felt the water rush up out of your lungs as you hacked and coughed, clutching weakly at whoever held you. You groaned, head falling forward, resting on a solid chest. The arms around you gripped you tighter, and you heard the song again, this time sounding much more desperate and sorrowful than last time. It was the last thing you heard before you fell unconscious.

You weren’t sure how long you were out for, but you felt the last few rays of the sun wash over you as you came to. You were vaguely aware of the solid rock underneath you and the gentle fingertips that grazed your forehead. You heard short bursts of the song, this time coming from the person hovering over you. It put you at ease, but you so desperately wanted to see who the song belonged to.

You slowly tried to pry your eyes open, head protesting as it gave a particularly sharp throb. You winced, and the man above you cooed at you. You managed to open your eyes just long enough to catch a glimpse of the glowing green that stared down at you, entrancing you.

“Sleep,” the man sang, and you obediently let your eyes fall closed. The man’s fingertips ran down the side of your face and to your neck. He turned your head to expose more of your neck, lips brushing over the base where it met your shoulder. You let out a whimper at the pleasant feeling, and the man hushed you softly. You were surprised at how good it felt, and you found yourself arching up into his touch.

The man continued to nuzzle at you, and you heard the vague sound of your name coming from off in the distance. You whined for the man, silently begging for more of his touch, and you felt him smirk against you.

“Skipper!”

The voices were louder now, and you heard the man let out an inhuman snarl. You cried out in pain as you felt a prick of what you assumed were teeth pierce your skin. The pain was quickly dulled by the feel of a tongue laving over the small wound. The man pulled away from you, and you reached for him weakly, opening your eyes just enough to see the flash of silver scales disappear back into the sea.

[chromations]

The one story that scares me the most away from substance use is Jimmy Page. It's not an easy topic to go by, yet I'm still hesitant to post this.

Finding out the pure severity of Jimmy's health between '75-'83, mainly talking about 1977. This whole topic makes me so sad, but I always keep looking.

More under cut, it's a long post unpacking that year. Feel free to add.

We all know he did heroin, starting in 1975, and that he's always been skinny and underweight. But it started amping up in '76, taking more with a noticeable weight loss.

That man was practically on the brink of death from 1977. Between constant shows, rarely eating save for a liquid diet, rarely sleeping, and his addictions... it's scary. He had a weight goal that'd been just about reached: between 125-130 Ibs at 5'11½". (And while an inaccurate measurement of health for those heavier, this falls into 17 on the BMI chart: severely underweight) He dropped a few waist sizes (men's 29 in '75, down to men's 26) and had refused to talk to Peter Clifton after he'd included wide shots of Jimmy in TSRTS and a single roll of his stomach, as it made his ass "too wide." The black dragon pants didn't fit anymore, and fell off during a show. You can see him in the black dragon suit plus a belt during the Oakland photos. Note that these pants had completely fit him without need of a belt two years prior. He ended up at around a men's 26 waist. He'd stopped eating completely for a few days in a row during some tours.

Safe to say, Jimmy was extremely weight conscious. I think he met the criteria for an eating disorder diagnosis, as well.

There's accounts of him having stage fright and anxiety. He'd show up to '77 tour shows completely exhausted, nodding off constantly. Peter Grant had ended up slapping him awake and giving him coke just so he wouldn't pass out.

Then, there's the Chicago '77 show. Jimmy, sick on stage. His eyes are bloodshot, he's had nothing but orange juice in the past 60 hours, along with no sleep in that time frame. Sick from smack and coke, along with all of the previous factors of being an anxious wreck. It's a wonder he got through the first 7 songs before having to sit down during Ten Years Gone, calling for a 5 minute break, and then canceling the show. He couldn't go on that night, just nearly crumpling to sit. This is the story that scared me the most.

Linked below, the show is recorded up until Robert announces the show is canceled.

https://youtu.be/YVCiBd1oodU?feature=shared

I remember reading this account from Dave Northover (Jones' personal assistant):

This is what shattered my heart, initially reading it. How harshly drugs shattered Jimmy's brain, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. There's also a quote from Jimmy in an interview from the year: "I'm not into solid foods very much. I can't remember when I last had a steak. A few tours ago. It's just that you don't want too much in your stomach when you're playing. And there are some places you can't eat after you come back from the gig." He then notes that the banana daiquiris that he'd been consuming all the time are the answer to any problems, "having that every day and nothing to eat at all."

Additionally, In that interview, Jimmy says that earlier on in Zeppelin, Jimmy "had really been eating" and that he'd tried on the clothes from when he was in school, only for it to be very loose. It worries me more to remember that Jimmy stopped school at the age of 16 and had always been underweight. High metabolism, illness prone, and bouts of glandular fever during his time with The Crusaders (still was a teenager), not improved one bit by his undereating.

It's hurtful to hear how, more often than not, the media will praise a celebrity for their skinny figure, even if they're extremely unhealthy with it. Jimmy Page is no exception, as people praised him for his figure during his age.

Heroin is no joke, and I wouldn't wish the addiction it so easily presents to anyone. Withdrawals and smack sickness is scary to even witness, completely altering the person it grips. People often note how jimmy was an asshole, especially in the late 70s, but when dealing with a heroin addiction, with what is basically an eating disorder, high anxiety, with the goal of living your music, the goal of pleasing the crowd, getting the job done, and most of all, surviving, the way you act isn't at the front of your mind. I'm sure Page was aware he was an asshole, but with what he was dealing with, it's not important. Instant gratification, reward, matters more. Not dying matters more. Getting the next hit matters more. His image mattered more.

No matter how much of an asshole he was, and some of the reprehensible things he'd committed earlier on, I wouldn't wish this upon anyone. You see the light leave his eyes as the years went on, you know that while he recovered, those were the darkest years of his life that we know, and there's a reason he'd rarely talk about it: Who would want to?

I've heard multiple people say that if we hadn't lost Bonham in '80, then within those few years, we would've lost Page. It's a wonder he was able to still go on in the early 80s.

Even comparing photos of him in 73, 75, and 77, you go from a "safer" underweight, to his ribs completely visible.

I'm glad we still have him around. This whole topic is not easy to go by, and while most anti drug campaigns don't sway me much, it's the slow / fast decent into all of this that gives me such a strong reaction.

I don't appreciate seeing the way it's so casually joked about amongst the online zeppelin areas. People do take it seriously, but there's always the insensitive ones.

(Adding on, since I accidentally posted this as a draft)

Many people blame page for the effects of his addiction: Sloppy guitar playing, distancing from the rest of the band, assholery behavior.

You can't fault an addict for falling addicted. You can fault them for starting it, maybe, and you can criticize them for all you want. Still, a heroin addiction isn't just as cigarettes. It's the easiest to fall addicted to, and one of the hardest to quit, especially when a physical dependency is grown. Withdrawal symptoms could start early, and extreme too. Most heroin addicts trying to quit will relapse within the first day or two, it's not easy as that.

Considering how unhelpful the help was at the time, quitting cold turkey at these points would probably worsen his condition for a while, considering how rail thin Jimmy had been. The people around him grew worried, grew mad, and I find myself wondering how he could still pick up the guitar and rail out the LA Forum 1977 show, producing banger shows through 77, yet the shoddiest shows as well.

There could be little done about treatment of eating disorders as well, due to medical knowledge and stigma around it. I'll sympathize with this part, having the experience of one: ED recovery on your own is rough. I don't know how jimmy got out of heroin and an ED, and I don't think the process of that should become business unless necessary.

If you find yourself falling into these vices, seek help. Nothing about this is normal: not the lifestyle, nor the pressures.

Jimmy's case will always haunt me. I'd wish this upon no one.

[jujuscrolled]

disney!jjk men x gn!reader (as always if i slip up pls lmk<3) Ft. toji, choso, sukuna and kento !!

a/n: just something that spawned because I was thinking abt Choso as tarzan … yum

Toji as Robert Philip

“What the fuck? Did you just summon that bird?”

“No, silly - summoning is for witches! I called the bird so it can deliver your flowers.” You chirped, grinning far too happily at him for his liking as you watched the bird fly away with the bouquet of flowers you’d “bought”.

(The guy selling them had given you a 100% discount because he’d overheard Toji refused to buy them and told you that you “deserved better”)

“How’re they supposed to know where she lives, idiot?” Toji scoffed but before you could reply his phone buzzed with a text message

From: Name

- Toji!! Thank you for the flowers they’re gorgeous! See you at dinner tonight ;)

He stared at his phone incredulously. There was no way any of this was real. He had to be in some weird fucked up dream.

From the second you had came into his life two days ago, you’d been pulling weird stunts. First there was the whole finding you situation. You had jumped, or rather spawned, right in front of his car. If he hadn’t been arguing with Megumi you would have been… Well, not here anymore, to put it nicely.

“What the hell!” He had yelled as he slammed on his breaks. You only looked at him in confusion, eyes moving down to his bumper that had pressed up against your leg.

When he got out of the car you had given him some crazy story about a faraway place with castles and princes and honestly Toji had just thought you were on drugs or something.

It had been Megumi that convinced him not to just leave you in the middle of the road, insisting that if your were in trouble the hospital would be a good place to go.

So, they did, and once the check up had been completed with all the drug tests coming back negative, Megumi insisted that they pay for your hotel - they had almost run you over… But Toji wasn’t about to spend money on a stranger so he offered to let you sleep in their living room. The doors had been locked tight that night, much to Megumi’s vexation. (He always had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night so it had been really inconvenient for him.)

Then when they’d woken up they’d found you using wild animals to help you clean his home….

“Oh, hey dad.” Megumi had said when he left his room that morning. He’d muttered a muffled greeting back to his son, eyes still half closed as he made his way to the kitchen only to be met with a herd of squirrels wiping down the kitchen table.

His head had snapped towards Megumi, wanting to get him out of the house in case the squirrels decided to attack only to find Megumi chilling in front of the television, a few birds and other wild creatures cleaning around him.

“Megumi… Don’t move…” He said, reaching for a spatula so he could swat the animals away. Before he could reach it his hand was smacked away by one of the squirrels before it threw the spatula into the sink before grabbing and handing him a clean one instead. Toji could only gape at the squirrel.

“Oh! You’re awake, how lovely! I really wanted to thank you for saving me last night with your metal horse so I gathered a few friends to help with the cleaning!” You grinned at him from the other side of the kitchen, feather duster in hand as birds flew past your head so they could use their feathers to dust the high spots you couldn’t reach.

Then there was this current situation now, with a flower delivery birds and your very public, very humiliating flash mob that you’d just triggered all because he had mentioned that he’d never felt the need to buy his girlfriend flowers - he had thought she didn’t like them because she had told him she didn’t. Not to mention he’d never even heard of the song you’d sang with the rest of the random people at this park but everyone else was quite on board with singing along. It was surreal watching you sing and dance along so freely with random people. The drug tests had to be wrong. There was no other explanation for what was happening to him.

You were a mystery and it truly had Toji befuddled - he’d never met anyone like you and honestly? Given the fact that Megumi had a Disney obsession a few months ago - your crazy story from when you’d first met kind of started making sense… But that couldn’t be right? There was no way you were royalty, you were far too… quirky… for that.

Looking up at you he saw that you were already skipping your way down the path, humming another presumably made up song as you went. The throbbing pain of a headache grew; he was sure he’d suffer an aneurysm soon.

“Hey, wait up! You don’t even know where you’re going.”

Choso as Tarzan

You rested your hand on the palm of your hand, elbow resting of the ledge of the window of the car you were riding in.

The scenery flew past you, only adding to your disillusionment - you were supposed to be on this roadtrip so you could explore the scenery and yet you hadn’t stopped at any major sightseeing spots.

“You look like you aren’t enjoying this.” Sukuna grumbled, patience already thin from when you’d asked him to stop at a gas station for a restroom break.

“Hard to enjoy when you refuse to stop anywhere.”

“I just stopped at that gas station did I not? Did you see all the coffee options they had? They even had a make your own breakfast sandwich - not my fault you didn’t want one.”

You deadpanned. It was strange to you how such a large, tattooed, grumpy man could also be so amazed at such things.

“Yes. I saw. That’s not what I meant by sightseeing, though - I meant the forests. We’ve passed four already.”

“Forest? Really?” He scoffed, clicking on his blinker and parking in the parking lot of a large park.

“Fine, go play. If you get caught by a rabid animal i’m not helping you.”

“Sukuna. This is a park.”

He turned to look over at the greenery before sighing. “There’s a forest behind this park.“ He explained, rubbing his temples in what you could only assume was annoyance - his usual reaction to anything you did.

“Are you luring me in so you can get rid of me or something?” You wouldn’t put it past him - though, you supposed you knew that he did actually care about you somewhat given that’d he’d been the only one to offer to accompany you on your grand adventure of Tokyo forests.

He’d said something about how your best friend, Suguru, was too much of a princess to be of any help during dangerous situations. Something you honestly couldn’t help but agree with - he would never step foot inside any forest that didn’t have a clear trail (unless you’d dared him - but you’d rather enjoy your adventure than worry about him getting hurt or anything.)

So that’s how you’d wound up with Sukuna as your driver and a long list of hidden forests that promised to show you wondrous sights.

The forest Sukuna had suggested was not one on your list, so you couldn’t help but wonder how the man knew about it.

“Please. You’d be no fun to hunt, brat.” You gaped at him - you supposed you never did look through his prior criminal record before allowing him to be your own personal chauffeur (and bodyguard) for the day.

“I’m jokin’, jeez. Can’t have fun around you.” He scoffed, turning off his car and opening his door.

“I was just gonna send you in alone but come on - it’s actually a nice forests full of all that weird shit you’re lookin’ for.” He said before getting out of the car and waiting for you at the park entrance that he’d parked by.

You sighed and joined him. People knew you were with him so if anything did happen - he wouldn’t get away with it.

So the two of you found yourselves strolling through a desolate forest, vines and dead branches pulling at your clothes and hair.

“How’d you even find this place?” You asked as you pulled off yet another stray vine that’d somehow wrapped itself around your arm.

Despite the overgrown greenery - the forest was actually decently lit, allowing the two of you to walk your way through easy enough.

“I didn’t join you just because Suguru would’ve been a shit bodyguard, you know?” He muttered, easily swerving through the forest.

You would’ve poked fun at him but you supposed you couldn’t be too surprised that he enjoyed being in nature - his house was full of cute potted plants and a little garden in his backyard filled with flowers you’d never even heard of.

“Well, thank you.” You murmured, glancing around at the scenery. It really was quite beautiful, and the path you’d taken was starting to clear up a bit.

“Careful around here there’s a le-“ Before Sukuna could finish his sentence you felt your foot lose balance as the floor you’d been stepping on had began to crumble under you causing you to trip and roll down a small cliff-like ridge. You had felt Sukuna grab for you but your body had tumbled down far too fast for him to reach you.

You landed at the bottom of the ridge with a loud oof, your breath leaving your lungs as you laid there.

“Nice.” You breathed out once you’d finally caught your breath. Despite the terrible ache in your body, you sat up, looking up from where you had fallen only to not even be able to see Sukuna anymore.

“Sukuna?!” You called, hoping your voice would carry through the forest.

“Y/n! Oh thank fuck I thought you died! There’s a roundabout nearby - stay where you are, brat!” He called down, though you were still unable to see him.

You huffed, dusting your hand off so you could rub the dirt off your face as you looked around.

You’d fallen into quite a large opening, leaves and shrubbery clearing a small path that led to what you had assumed was a running stream of water if the noice was anything to go by.

You couldn’t help the groan of pain as you stood up fully, hoping you weren’t going any further damage to your body by standing but you had to clean yourself off. Falling off a damn cliff was embarrassing enough - Sukuna finding you all dirty and scratched up would truly be the cherry on top.

Crouching down, you cupped the water into your hands before closing your eyes and washing your face. The water felt nice on all the scratches, cooling off the stinging quite a bit.

When you opened your eyes you couldn’t help the loud scream that left your lips as a man stared back at you from the other side of the small stream.

He tilted his head at you before jumping in the water and making his way toward you only serving in terrifying you further as you tried to get away.

With your legs not cooperating, you were only able to drag yourself backwards, palms of your hands scratching against the rough dirt and rocks under you.

The strange man caught up to you far too quickly, hands reaching for your wrists as you let out another scream.

Then, he pulled your hands up to his face, inspecting the wounds before frowning deeply.

“W-What’re you doing?!” You squealed as he picked you up and sat you by the streams edge.

“Blood.” Was all he muttered, before grabbing your wrists again and pulling you your hands back into the water.

You felt your lips part in shock as you stared at him.

Having been too scared and shocked by him earlier, you hadn’t fully looked at the man. He had fairly long black hair that had been left loose, a mark across the bridge of his nose and a pair of the prettiest brown eyes you’d ever seen. As your eyes traveled farther down you realized that he hadn’t even been wearing a shirt, only a piece of fabric covering him up. Though with his strong thighs on display you’d hardly call it covering up.

You cleared your throat, looking away as a hot blush spread across your face.

“Still hurt?” He asked, causing you to look back at him before glancing down at your hands that he still held in his large palms.

“Uh- er, n-no, they’re fine. Thank you.” You replied, blinking at him as he observed you far too closely. His eyes squinted, face leaning closer to yours as he scanned your face that only warmed further at the proximity.

“Your face… Does it.. hurt?” He asked, grabbing your cheeks and squishing them gently while maneuvering your face to really look at it causing you to gasp quietly as your scratches begun to sting slightly under the pressure of his fingers.

“Oh! N-no, it’s fine really!!” With the way he had treated the scratches on your palm - you really weren’t looking for a free waterboarding trial.

He only furrowed his brows at you before releasing your face. “I think you lie.” He muttered. You only grinned sheepishly at him, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Thank you for… Uh, for helping me.” You said, glancing up at him from your lashes as he continued to stare at you curiously.

“Choso.” Was all he said causing you to arch a brow at him. Observing your confusion he paused and tilted his head - “My name. Choso.” He nodded to himself before pointing at you.

“Oh! Oh, my name is Y/n…”

“IsY/n.” He repeated causing you to hold back a laugh, “no, no, just Y/n. My name-“ you pointed at yourself, “Y/n.” You finished watching as his gaze followed your finger.

“Y/n.” He confirmed, getting close to your face again before reaching over to grab a strand of your hair, moving it away from your face only for it to fall back in place causing him to frown.

You smiled at him, body relaxing now that you realized he wasn’t a danger to you.

“Do you live here, Choso?” You asked quietly. He nodded, backing away from you before his eyes widened and his head turned towards where you’d come from.

“Y/n!” Sukuna called, “damnit! I told you to stay where you were!” He yelled causing you to tear your eyes away from Choso who had held a hand back towards you as if telling you not to move. You reached for his hand, curling your fingers around his calloused fingers causing him to turn back to you.

“It’s okay - he’s my friend.” You nodded. He still looked frightened though and stood up, grabbing your hand so he could pull you up with him.

“Be careful.” He said, squeezing your hand gently before darting back to where he had first approached you.

As you stared at the place where he’d disappeared to, you felt a hand grab your arm causing you to jump.

“Idiot, are you okay? What the hell are you looking at.” Sukuna grumbled, brows furrowed as he looked at you. With a final look back, you cleared your throat. “Sorry. I got dirty from the fall…” You replied, turning back to Sukuna who only rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go. I’m never taking you exploring again.” He huffed, leading you back towards the makeshift trail he’d come from.

You’d have to come back to this forest soon.

Sukuna as The Best

The fresh snow crunched beneath your feet as you took your daily walk with Sukuna leading as he usually did. Well, usually was a fairly new term seeing as you’d only recently started walking together. Or doing anything together for that matter.

Just a month ago you’d detested the man before you. The Beast. Though it really hadn’t been your intention to befriend the Beast, it was surprisingly easy to do so. He had changed from when you’d first met him.

He used to be mean; forcing you to have dinners with him (though really, you guessed he did let you out of that commitment fairly quickly when he realized you wouldn’t eat if he was around) and practically imprisoning you to your room during most of the day, speaking to you so loud and unforgiving like you’d personally offended him with your presence despite him having been the one to demand it.

Sure; you were there because you had taken your brother’s place but you’d do it again if it had meant your brother, whom you loved so dearly, wouldn’t have to go through what you went through. Though, would they have gotten along better than you and Sukuna did? You had been quite the martyr when you’d first gotten to the castle so you supposed of you had tried a kinder approach - like your brother would have - maybe this… Development that had happened would’ve come much sooner.

To be honest, you didn’t even realize when it had started happening. When your loathing had slowly turning into… Whatever this was.

Maybe it had been the entire library of books he had gifted you. A large variety in all languages that he’d even offered to translate for you.

“You know French?” You had asked as you ran a fiver over the spines of books you’d never heard of.

“I know a lot of things.” He muttered, eyes watching the way you gazed so lovingly at the books he’d collected over the years. Most of them spent in this figure he detested so. A curse he’d had bestowed upon him.

Though the more he had thought about it, especially as you came into his life, had it even really been a been a curse? Or had the witch just held a mirror up for him to look at?

“I could… Teach you… If you want. If I have time, I mean.” He could’ve face palmed - of course he had time. Too much of it. And the time he used actually doing things all involved you.

Instead of poking fun like he’d expected, your eyes had widened, lips parted in shock as you looked up at him.

“Really? You’d do that?” You’d asked, causing his heart to ache so beautifully. He cleared his throat, looking away from you - if you looked at him like that, he was sure he’d lay down his life for you if you asked.

Maybe it had been when you’d had your first dinner together - two weeks prior to the library gift, you’d heard a knock at your door.

“It’s open!” You’d called, eyes glancing back from where you’d stood on the balcony.

Uraume had entered, a small smile on their lips as they handed you a small note. “From the King. A formal request to dinner.” They’d said as you reached for the paper.

You had yet to have dinner or any meal with the Beast, still unsure of his intentions and unable to relax around his short temper. You feared that you’d say one wrong world and he’d blow a fuse. But recently he’d started actually having conversations with you. Ones about specific food preferences or activities you enjoyed so he could tell Uraume to incorporate them into the castle - “because you’ll be here for the rest of your life.” He had grumbled one day when you had shared your curiosity over the sudden interest in your preferences.

That night he had your favorite dish prepared, table set up beautifully as Uraume served the both of you your plates. Though it had been a dinner that lacked conversation, and he had started with slurping soup off his plate - he quickly adapted to your own proper way of eating once he realized that you were watching.

And, for some reason, it warmed your heart that he’d try to change his habits just to make you feel at ease. So you, despite the discomfort of being so improper, also slurped your soup a bit for him.

Or maybe it had happened two days ago on your newly incorporated daily walk where you had been feeding the birds. Sukuna walked ahead of you, hands full of birdseed as he grumbled about the birds never landing on him.

“Well, if you keep grumbling under your breath like that you’ll only scare them off.” You giggled, placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him from walking further. He looked down at you, eyes narrowing as you motioned for him to sit, but he listened despite his initial reluctance.

You placed some fresh birdseed in his palms before sitting down beside him, your own hands full of birdseed.

“Now, you just wait patiently and they’ll come.” You murmured, eyes glancing around to look for birds.

Sukuna followed your gaze. His patience, despite usually being spreading dangerously thin - always needing things done quickly and efficiently, as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye; he figured maybe a lifetime beside you wouldn’t feel so long.

Sure enough, the birds slowly started to appear, most going towards you but once your birdseed had run out they flocked him too - covering him completely as they ate the food from his palms, an adorable grin adorning his face.

You giggled beside him, finding the sight of such a large man sitting so patiently as the birds had their fill.

Still, as you looked up at Sukuna who was gazing curiously at the fresh snow around him, you realized that maybe staying in this castle wouldn’t be so bad. Not if he continued to show you who he was, who he had been long before this curse befell him.

Kento as Flynn Ryder.

Kento’s eyes opened slowly, then all at once as he remembered the last interaction he’d had.

Sure enough, you stood before him, the same stupid frying pan in your hand raised up as if you were prepared to hit him again.

He tried to move his hands to stop you or even just to raise them in surrender but they were tied behind his back with something far too strong for him to break out of. Which was strange considering that his life as a vigilante had prepared him for things like this.

Looking down at the rope he quickly realized it wasn’t even rope.

“Is this… Hair?” He asked, genuinely confused and kind of grossed out. Surely it couldn’t be? He thought as he followed the trail of thick tresses that led directly to you. His brows furrowed, moving within his confines once more only for you to scoff.

“There’s no point in struggling. You won’t be able to get out.” You explained, bracing your weapon tighter as you looked at him.

Kento could only deadpan. This had to be karma for all his past deeds. If he got out of this, and he was sure he would, he would give up his life of crime. (Maybe…)

“Okay… Well, what’s it gonna take for me to be released then?” He asked, arching a brow at you as you scowled at him.

“That depends. Why are you here? Is it my hair that you’re after? Because you won’t get it! I won’t let you.” You hissed, eyes narrowing. Kento’s confusion only grew, only now it was accompanied by annoyance.

“No offense- your hair is lovely and all, but the only thing I want from is it to get out of it… Literally.” He huffed, wiggling once more but it was truly no use - what the hell did you eat to get it so thick and long. It had to be at least 40 feet or something…

“It’s seventy feet actually and… You… don’t want my hair?” You asked, causing him to look back up at you - he hadn’t even realized he had said that aloud but now that he looked at your hair; seeing the way it coiled around furniture and in the ceiling beams he supposed it did have to be more around 70 feet.

“Why would I want your hair?” He sighed, looking back at you as you lowered your frying pan.

“Well… Actually, never mind that, why are you here then if not for my hair?” You questioned.

Kento only shrugged, “I was being chased by a palace horse. Well, he’s more like my number one enemy honestly… Who would’ve thought horses could be so unforgiving? Anyway, I just happened to stumble across this tower - it was easy to climb and that’s why I did so.” He explained, eyes glancing around for the satchel that contained his current prized possession.

“If you’re looking for your purse, I hid it. And without me you’ll never find it.” You muttered causing him to look back up at you before sighing. He’d already caught sight of it before you’d spoken.

“If I find it without your help will you release me?” He asked, hoping to swindle you out of this too.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not stupid. I know you’re only asking that because you think you found it.”

He shrugged, “maybe, maybe not - you gonna make the deal or not? I really don’t have time for your games.”

“The only deal I’ll be agreeing to is this; you take me to see the lights in the sky and I’ll return your purse.”

“It’s a satchel.”

“Okay, your satchel-purse.” He groaned, leaning his head back.

“What lights?” He asked. Your eyes lit up as you ran to a lever by one of your windows, when you pulled on it the windows closed and the ceiling opened slightly illuminating a large painting on your wall.

Lanterns had lit up the night sky you’d drawn, floating down and past the castle the two of you currently resided within. In the balcony of that tower - you had been drawn onto, staring up at the night sky adorned with floating lanterns. If the situation he was in hadn’t been so ridiculous he would’ve praised your art work.

“Oh, you mean the lanterns?” He asked, watching as your eyes lit up as his words. You quickly made your way over to him, hands placed firmly on his shoulders as you tilted his chair back so he would look at you.

“They’re called lanterns? I knew they weren’t stars! Wow, that’s so amazing! Will you take me to them? I promise that once I see them your pu- your satchel will be returned to you!” You squealed causing him to flinch slightly.

“Uhm… You sure you want to cut a deal with me? You don’t even know me. It’ll be a three days trip minimum.” He said, eyeing you closely. You only shrugged, “I trust you.”

“Horrible decision, really. I mean, we just met. I don’t even know your name?”

“I’m Y/n, you’re Nanami - there! Now we know each other. Do we have a deal?”

“How do you know my name?” He asked suspiciously. You rolled your eyes, “you had a wanted poster in your satchel - a bit conceited don’t you think?”

“And you’re a bit dumb for trusting a criminal don’t you think?”

You only shrugged, “like I said, I have the upper hand here. Your choice to agree or not. Though I really recommend agreeing.”

For some reason, as Kento watched your eyes brighten and your lips curl into an adorably excitable smile, he couldn’t help but consider cutting a deal with you.

He was going back towards that way anyway… And if he sold the crown he’d stolen; his dream of living a calm life would be fulfilled as well…

“Fine. It’s a deal.” He agreed, letting out a yell as you squealed and released your grasp on him causing him to fall backwards.

“Oops!”

[sarahsmi13s]

hey vinny! wanna write bob + "you're more than. a one night stand"? 👀👀

um of course i do!!! ❤❤

pairing: robert 'bob' floyd x bartender!reader warning: elusions to sex, insecurities and self doubt, admittedly a little fluffier than intended word count: ~1.6k prompt: "you're more than a one night stand"

The one thing you didn’t expect when you woke up were the arms wrapped around your naked waist. But in your groggy state you didn’t panic or become confused, you simply snuggled back into the warm chest. 

It wasn’t until the breath fanned across the back of your neck did you panic internally.

But you looked down and saw the familiar forearms that led to familiar hands; the left one accented by the Navy issued watch on its wrist. 

Being a bartender, you saw a lot of forearms and a lot of hands. Most of the time you recognized the order by the hand on the bar, which came in handy on busy nights – no pun intended.

Which is why you knew whose arms were wrapped around you. The order attached to these hands was a cup of peanuts and a glass of sweet tea or water.

Yup, Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd was in your bed.

You closed your eyes and sighed. This is not what you intended to happen. 

Yeah, you have feelings for Bob. Have for a while now. But now that you’ve slept with him, you were worried that things would never go back to the way they were. Because they never do with you. 

You decided that you should get up and shower, save yourself the heartbreak of watching or feeling him leave by hiding in your bathroom.

Sighing again, you pushed back the covers and carefully tried to get out of his arms. 

Behind you though, Bob grumbled sleepily and pulled you closer, his large hand squeezing your waist gently.  You bit your lip, memories of what led you here flashing in your mind.

“Bob, I’ve gotta go to the bathroom,” you whispered, hoping that he’d loosen his hold and just go back to sleep. 

And he did, but he grumbled about it first before kissing your bare shoulder. 

A heat spread across your face as your stomach fluttered. That wasn’t ideal. Because it doesn’t matter how you tried to rationalize the act. Oh, he’s groggy and asleep, he doesn’t know he did that. or He’s just dreaming. Doesn’t matter, your heart is thrumming because he did it.

You shook it off and carefully wriggled your body out of the puzzle slot it felt so safe in. 

Your feet hit the ground and you were cold immediately, missing the warmth of the aviator now on his stomach in the middle of your bed. You get up and grab up your sweatshirt and panties from the floor, looking at the strewn clothes that show the haste you and Bob were in to get into your bed last night.

Moving around the room, you picked up your jeans and tank top from the floor, tossing them in your basket before turning to the other clothes on the floor. Then, you picked up Bob’s clothes from the floor and folded them. 

First, his blue jeans that had lighter spots on the thighs where they’ve been worn down from either wearing them often or his little tic where he rubs his palms on his jeans. You can remember the feeling of the denim between your thighs as he pressed you into the mattress, hand cradling the side of your face and the watchband scratching your jaw gently. You bit your lip as you put them on your chest of drawers. 

His shirt was next, the simple yellow fabric that made his eyes that much bluer. His cologne was still present on the collar, the cedar and cardamom making your head dizzy in the best way. The shirt was soft and thin against your fingertip, just like it was when it was bunched in your hands last night when Bob had you pinned against the wall with one large hand braced next to your head and the other rubbing you through your jeans.

After putting the shirt on top of the jeans you picked up his boxers. 

“How can a cock that big fit in these?” You mumbled to yourself, remembering the weight of him in your hand when you palmed him through the fabric in your hands.

Shaking your head with a light, slightly sad, chuckle, you put the boxers down and grabbed some clothes to take to the bathroom.

Bob took a deep breath as he woke up, inhaling the peach scent of your shampoo and conditioner from the pillow he was face down in.

He rolled onto his back and reached over to the nightstand to get his glasses. 

Putting them on, he sighed contently as he draped an arm over his torso. 

He smiled, remembering the entire night. From inviting you to the bonfire after his third cup of peanuts to the innocent swipe of s’more off your lip and then the taste of s’more when he took the chance and kissed you goodbye in the parking lot. 

He knew that he’d want to step back, take you out on a proper date and show you that this wasn’t a one time thing to him – with hope that you felt the same.

The amount of times he’d dreamt of being so intimate with you, it never would have prepared him for the real thing.

Every thrust, every kiss, every touch – sent electricity through him. Even this morning when he woke up with you in his arms, it was just this feeling of calm. It was a feeling of comfort and love.

Every moan, every pant, every grunt – was music to his ears. Much clearer than in his dreams. He could actually feel the moans vibrating your chest and throat, the breathy pants against his neck and ear. 

He got to watch your face as he felt you squeeze around him, your thighs trembling against his hips. Looking like a literal dream underneath him.

Bob knew he loved you the moment you welcomed him back with open arms after the mission. Telling him all of his peanut cups and sweet tea were on you. And then when you organized a party for him for his birthday, he knew that you were it for him.

So, as he gets up and gets dressed, he’s crossing his fingers that you feel the same way.

You sighed as you left the bathroom, your hair still wrapped in the thin towel as you went to your room to grab your laundry basket.

Your bedroom door is closed so you have no idea if he had already left or not. And you hated the disappointment you felt when you opened the door to see your bed empty.

Still, you gathered your basket and went to your laundry room. 

As you went past your entryway, you looked up at your door to make sure it was locked. And once you confirmed Bob had locked up before he left, you sighed again and looked at the floor. 

Your brow furrowed and you looked back up.

Yup, that’s what you thought. Bob’s boots and his damned black Carrhart zip up hoodie in your entryway.

That’s when you smelled the coffee and heard Bob moving around in your kitchen.

You immediately put the hamper down, toss your hair towel in it, and go to the kitchen.

“Robby?”

“Good morning Peaches,” he smiled at you effortlessly as he poured two cups of coffee. “How was your shower?”

You blinked, your brain having to catch up to what your eyes were seeing. “Oh, um, yeah… yeah it was good.” 

He smiled and fixed your coffee just the way you liked it. “Here you go.” 

You smiled and took the warm mug in your hands, “Thank you…” You took a sip and swallowed it before looking at Bob, “Um what-what are you doing here?”

Bob looked at you, trying not to let the hurt show on his face. His brain immediately going to the self-doubting and the fear that he had read you all wrong. “I-I just thought that we-we could have breakfast, may-maybe spend the day together?”

You furrowed your brow, “You-you wanna hang out?” 

He nodded, “Yeah-yeah…” He sat his mug down and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “B-but if you want me to go, I will. If this is a one time thing, just a one night stand. I get that. But I don’t think things will ever-”

In the midst of his rant you walked around the island and pressed a kiss to his lips, your hands fisting in the soft yellow t-shirt.

Once Bob shook off the shock, he was threading his fingers into your wet hair and gripping your hip with his free hand. You tilted your head into his hand and deepened the kiss as he walked you back and then pinned you to the fridge door. One of your hands gripped his hip to pull him impossibly closer.

Your lips moved together in sync, not worrying about oxygen as you practically breathed in each other. 

But when you both started to feel dizzy, you separated with a ‘pop’.

He rested his forehead on yours as you cupped his cheek. “Not that I’m complaining… but what was that for?”

“To shut you up…” You giggled, your thumb rubbing back and forth on his flushed cheek bone. You take a few more breaths before looking up into his cerulean blue eyes, “I wasn’t sure how you felt before… I figured you would have just left while I was in the shower. Considering most one night stands end like that…” 

He shook his head, “You are more than a one night stand to me.” He chuckled, “I’ve always wanted to be with you, from the moment I met you… that’s what I’ve wanted… what I’ve needed, Y/N…”

You huffed out a small laugh, “I need that too. I need you, Robby…” 

“Sooo, that’s a yes?” 

“Yes, Bob, it’s a yes.”

thank you for joining me for this event! ❤ i hope you enjoyed this @bobby-r2d2-floyd !!! it was a lot of fun to write!

you can particpate in the event here -> 400 follower event!

[call-sign-shark]

✨ Might As Well Face It ✨

Summary: It started with sex, and it ended up with Pete Maverick Mitchell addicted to your love.

Words: 1.5k Tags:  masturbation, big smut allusions, love confession, age gap, student/teacher relationship, Pete is fucking addicted to you &lt;3

notes: Here is my contribution to @roosterforme 's playlist challenge Love is in the Air TGM. My song was Robert Palmer's Addicted to Love! Here, treat yourself with a video of Tom Cruise singing that song! This is also self-indulgent because I used my own call sign, Shark, for this xReader one shot. Enjoy! 💚

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

He had kissed her.

No, worst than that. He had fucked her. 

His student. 

His twenty-five-years-younger-than-him student.

It all started two months ago when he decided to have a drink at the Hard Deck to relieve the stress of the day. Coyote almost crashed his plane for he had fainted during a maneuver. Fortunately enough, he managed to wake up before it was too late. Following this anxious event, all Pete wanted was a few beers, a hot shower, and a good night of sleep. When he sat at the bar counter, his eyes fell on you - you were dancing and singing to the rhythm of Addicted to Love’s electric guitars. You, the student who had driven him crazy since day one. 

He had sipped on his beer, his eyes burning with desire as he enjoyed the sight of your attractive body swinging. His focus shifted from your bratty face to your curves: first, he watched your breasts bouncing at each movement and could not help imagining how good it would feel to lay kisses on them. Then, he looked at your hips he could easily imagine grabbing while fucking you. Finally, he had bitten his lips when looking at your butt - Gosh, the only thing he wanted was spanking it to punish you for arousing him like that. He might have drunk a bit too much or maybe was it his young self breaking free, he could not tell.  Still, he had waited until you decided to leave and offered to bring you home with his motorcycle. The last thing he remembered was you, pinned against the wall of your bedroom, as he filled you with his cum.

Hot water was raining down on Pete Mitchell, who had buried his face in his forearm that was resting against the wet tiles of the shower walls. His heart sweated.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

He asked himself out loud, his breath shaky. He growled with pleasure. His free hand was holding his cock firmly, moving up and down along his length. Fuck - he had never been so hard in his entire life. The slow and languid strokes he had started with quickly turned into frenzied movements. Each time Pete closed his eyes, his mind was assaulted with the memories of your heated encounter. He could still hear your voice chanting, calling him “Sir” as he pounded you with his hips crashing against yours at each thrust.  His body shook.

After that first fuck, he had told her it was a mistake and that they should not do it again…Only to pound her harder two days later, right in the hangar in which he reached his lessons to the squad.  Another kiss was what it took.

“Fucking brat…” 

He swore, hating you for making him feel that way. 

“She could be your fucking daughter, you dumbass.” 

He swore again, hating himself for wanting you so bad. All his muscles tightened for the fire burning in his abdomen became far too much to handle. Pete threw his head back and let out a long, masculine, and final moan. His cock throbbed while releasing his seed. 

He remained there, motionless and panting, stars dancing in front of him. 

Damn, something was definitely wrong with him. 

That was why, two weeks ago, he left you in the morning. On your nightstand, there was a little paper plane with a note written on it.

He tried. He really tried to resist - He even did his best to avoid you. But those last two weeks without you had been the worst of his life. And here he was, jerking off constantly, thinking about you, and suffering from both physical and mental withdrawal symptoms.

After a while, Pete got out of the shower and grabbed a towel he wrapped around his sharp hips. He ran one of his hands through his wet hair to slick them back and looked at his own reflection in the mirror. Despite masturbating in the shower two times in a row, the Captain’s throat was still tight and he could barely breathe.  It has been only two weeks but his body wanted more of you. His soul wanted more of yours.

He could never get enough of you.

His brows furrowed at the piercing green eyes that were looking back at him, afraid of the feelings blazing in his heart. He could not believe it. Pete Mitchell used to think he was immune to the stuff - and by stuff, he meant love stuff. He was the one who broke hearts. He was the one making girls go crazy - at least when he was younger. 

What was he supposed to do? The wiser thing was to eat something and go to sleep, but he could barely do that since your last encounter for his mind was clouded by all the thoughts he had about his hot student and her sweet liquor lips he craved so much it hurt. Maverick, the man and legend, might as well face it: he was addicted to love. Torn between his reasonable self and his feelings, Pete’s mind was tormented.

Should he stick to the good decision of not flirting with his student? Or should he risk losing everything to be by her side?  The man shook his head and grabbed his clothes to put them back on. He had made his decision - another kiss is what he needed. 

The entrance’s door slammed behind him, for he almost run to his motorcycle. Riding it, he took a quick look at his watch to check the time. It was 9 pm but he could not care less: he needed to talk to you. He needed to see you, to kiss your lips, to touch your body, and to sink in your arms, apologizing for the stupid decision he took when he left you all alone in that motel room. 

Pete drove to your house, enforcing the speed limits Maverick style. When he arrived in front of your home, he got up from his bike and knocked at the door. His heart beat in double-time as he waited for you to answer. One, two, three minutes passed but no one came to the door. Pete’s seductive smile faded from his good-looking face. Maybe you were not home?

He took a few steps back, his emerald eyes watching through the living room’s windows. His brows furrowed when he noticed that the lights were on inside your house. After another few minutes, Pete lowered his head, disappointment on his face. Why would you talk to him after he dumped you with a paper note and avoided you for two full weeks? A long sigh escaped from his lips before he pinched the bridge of his nose as if he could feel a headache coming.

“I’m a fucking idiot…”  He said to himself, out loud. Goose was probably facepalming himself up in Heavens, for he had never stopped being the same loser with girls he was when he was young.

“Yes, you’re a fucking idiot Pete Mitchell.” 

Pete jumped at the sudden feminine voice he heard right behind him. He turned around and was welcomed by the blessed sight of your beautiful silhouette. He opened his mouth to say something but no sound came out. Your beautiful eyes unsettled him.

Your instructor wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, realizing that he can’t be saved anymore. The mere fact of facing you again had him damned for eternity

“Cat got your tongue, Sir?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. Your mischievous eyes stared at him.

“I’m sorry Shark.” He finally managed to utter. 

“I know, that’s what you wrote on your stupid little paper plane.” 

“No, you don’t understand. I am really sorry.” 

Pete walked towards you. He was close, so close that your chest was almost pressed against his. You raised your head towards him to keep looking dagger at his green eyes.

“I was terrified. Terrified because I realized can’t live without you. I can’t and I don’t want to. I’ve felt more alive the past two months than I did in my entire life. But the truth is I am twenty-five years older than you, on top of being your teacher."

"That's why you fucked your student daily for two months and dumped her."

"I was afraid of getting fired but I don’t care anymore. All I want is to be with you and never leave.” 

"Seriously Pete. As if this Valentine's Day was not shitty enough... "

"I'm serious Shark. I don't want to leave anymore."

His eyes glimmered as he talked to you. He was struggling to hold back his tears.

A small twinge of pain pinched your heart at the sight of the legendary Maverick struggling to express the feeling he had for you. One look at his emerald eyes and all the grudge you hold against him disappeared.  What kind of superpowers he had, you thought.

“Pete.” You gently pressed the palm of your hand against his sharp jaw.

“I’m so sorry, I swear I am,” His gaze dived into yours. 

A smirk stretched the corner of your lips. Somehow, that apology was all you needed. Your fingers brushed his warm skin and traced the crow’s feet at the outer corner of one of his eyes. It was true, he was old enough to be your dad. And you could both get in trouble for your relationship... But you fell for Captain Mitchell.

And he fell. Harder.

“Might as well face it, Mitchell. You’re addicted to love.” 

“No,” he retorted, “I’m addicted to your love, Dear.” 

“Fucking idiot” You could not help but chuckle. The kind of bratty chuckle that sent Maverick to Heavens just by listening to it.

“Your idiot.” He whispered, his face coming closer to kiss you. Yet, you stopped him by pressing your index fingers on his lips. Surprised, Pete looked at you, perplexed.

"Another kiss, and you'll be mine." Your voice sang, quietly, words candy-coated with malice.

Pete snorted, amused. The way his eyes squinted when he smiled was irresistible. He chased away your finger with a head movement, only to capture your lips with his.

He was ready to risk it.

What did he have to lose? After all, he was already yours.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

credits:

Gif by @pohjanneito Mav's handwritting font by @k9effect

[blakelysco-pilot]

These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)

From the Love Letter Series Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)

The realities of Rosie's choice to reup for a second tour hit hard for Jo when Harry Crosby is granted furlough. She must learn to navigate the ugly emotions that come with the situation while simultaneously being there for Jean who is going through her own set of emotions at her husbands temporary return. With the help of friends, Jo is able to find the brighter side of it all, with a renewed hope for her future. Meanwhile, Rosie must deal with the guilt of his decision.

Read part 7 Here Follow along with the Love Letters Playlist

It comes in many forms; jealousy isn’t always the green eyed demon that’s depicted in books and movies. Sometimes, it comes as pain. As sadness. Desire, strangely enough. Jo could feel the emotions taking turns, and after they had all run their course, guilt would take over.  

The guilt that she was a terrible friend to Jean, who was over the moon with the news of Harry’s impending furlough. Her best friend who had desired no more than to be in the arms of her husband for the duration of his time away at war, was getting her wish. So then why was she having to remind herself every day to be happy for her? Because it was Harry on his way to New York, and not Rosie? Because she couldn’t understand how after devoting himself to the cause, to signing up for a second tour of duty, didn’t he also deserve a moment of reprieve in the safety of his own home. 

The last letter she had received from him had come shortly after the mail that had included news of Harry’s temporary return. It was clouded in sadness, despite his happiness for his friend. She could feel his desire to be home, the emotions palpable on the page. So much that she hadn’t told Jean of the letter. She had simply read it in the quiet of her room at night, hoping to keep her tears from falling too loudly. 

Could she stand to be here while Harry was home? To see them reuniting, softly, sweet nothings whispered to Jean in passing, her gentle laughter as Harry pulled her into a hug just because he was close. Because he could. She had decided she would leave for the duration of Harry’s furlough. She could return to her parents for the four weeks, but something in her kept saying that four weeks would crawl if she were to go home. So, she had resolved to call Juliet Thompson in the morning. Her friend upstate was still on summer holiday, and she had a feeling she could use the company as much as she could- John Brady was still being held POW, and whenever the thought crossed her mind, Jo couldn’t help but feel guilt all over again. Rosie was safe in England, and she was beyond grateful for it. 

The next morning felt like you could cut the tension with a knife. The days to Harry’s return were drawing near, and while Jo tried her best, she could feel the inevitable dark cloud looming overhead; she had begged for it to not creep in onJean’s good mood, but when she joined her friend for coffee, it seemed it was looming over both of them. 

“Sleep well?” Jean looked over from the stove where the coffee was perking, a half smile on her face. 

“Alright, all things considered.”

“Humid last night…” Jean mused. 

“Slept on top of the duvet again.” Jo half laughed, knowing even if they weren’t tiptoeing around the inevitable, she’d have been a tad grumpy over the heat. 

“Me too…” Jean turned, bringing the now finished pot to the table, placing it on the trivet. “Not even a breeze.”

“We want a breeze, we need to go back to Brooklyn, Jean.”

“That’s a hike,” she had set about pouring their coffee, hands staying busy. “Don’t know how you did it for so long before moving in here.”

Jo blanches at the mention of her living there, still not quite sure how to tell Jean that she’s going to be leaving while her husband is home. Guilt, again. 

“Jo?”

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t touched your coffee, are you okay?”

“Oh, yes…no… I’m fine.”

“Yes no?”

“Jean… I think it's best that while Harry is home, I’m not here.”

“What! Josephine, this is your home!”

“When Harry is away, yes, but your husband is coming home, Jean, and that does not require a third party awkwardly bumbling around.”

“You could never,” Jean practically cried from her seat across from Jo. “You would never be an awkward third party to me, or Bing! We both love you Jo.”

“I love you both terribly,” Jo was trying so hard to keep the tears at bay. “But he’s your husband. You both have been apart for so long, Jean. You deserve privacy.”

“But…what if he doesn’t…” Jean burst into tears, the Harry that had left for the war was someone Jean Crosby wasn’t sure she knew anymore, and it scared her. 

“Oh honey, no, don’t think that! You know Harry is so thrilled to be coming back to you, even if it is only temporary.”

“I’m not sure what to do anymore… I’m a wife but; I haven’t felt like one in so long.”

“You will both just have to take some time to get reacquainted.”

“And you? Will you go back to your parents?”

“I think I’ll call Jules first, and pay her a visit if she’s up to it.”

“Oh she’d love that!”

“Besides, the idea of four weeks at home with my parents after being here seems dreadfully boring.”

“Your mother would dote on you being home, you know that.”

“Dote or smother?” Jo raised a challenging eyebrow at her friend, their laughter somehow finding a place amongst their tears. 

“Maybe a little bit of both.” Jean agreed, knowing that Jo’s mother would undoubtedly be worried from the moment she left the house each day to the moment she came home from work. 

“We still have some time before Harry gets here,” Jo gave Jean’s hands a squeeze. “Why don’t you come with me to see Jules, and we can sneak Vika away from the hotel for a day and go shopping.”

“Wonderful!”

“We can get you all sorted out for your husband, Mrs. Crosby.” 

The phone call to Jules had been easier than Jo initially thought; already missing John Brady terribly, she understood Jo’s feelings on not wanting to encroach on Jean once Harry arrived, and was happy to have the company of a friend nearby. She was thrilled to know Jean would be accompanying Jo on the journey up, and to make the two days with Jean enjoyable for all, she had called Ruthvika and asked if the three girls could stay at the hotel, promising Vika a weekend of fun and martinis. Jules’ childhood friend had been more than happy to set up a room for the girls, and even happier to know she was included in the slumber party. This would be good; it would be a bit of sunshine after a dark cloud, laughter and friendship, and just what Jo knew she needed. 

My dearest Robbie,

My sweetheart, I miss you, and I hope you’re taking care of yourself over there. We’re in quite the heatwave here in the city, and from what you’ve told me, English summers are cooler than here at home, so with that, my love I envy you. It's not all bad, though. Jean and I have taken many trips to Coney Island on the weekends, and we brought your sister with us this last time. The fourth of July fireworks were spectacular as always, and I was so glad Jeannie was able to come with us for that. 

I’m sorry to say I haven’t seen much of her since you’ve left, and even less so after I moved in with Jean. She calls on occasion, and I know she’s keeping busy with school. Your mother says she’s trying to distract herself with you being away and so, she buries herself in her coursework. I do know how that feels. Work helps to serve as a distraction during the day, but when the day is done, and Jean and I have both gone to bed, I feel that is when I miss you most. We all miss you something terrible, and in our own different ways. 

I wanted to let you know that I��ll be heading upstate for a little while, to spend some time with Juliet and Vika. I must admit, I’m not very proud of myself, but it appears I have a bit of a jealous bug as of late, hearing that Harry is on his way home to Jean for a furlough. So, to make myself scarce and not be in their way, I’ve decided to pay a visit to Juliet for two weeks, before she has to return to her classroom to get ready for the school year ahead. I will go back to my parents for the second half of the time; I do miss them and I would love to see your mother as well. 

I think being away from Jean and Harry might be for the best. Please, don’t misunderstand, I cannot wait to meet him, he’s not only my best friend's husband but he's your best friend as well, (we won’t tell Pappy I said that) so that makes him special. But Robbie, what have we done so wrong to not be granted the same good fortune? Why is it not you coming home? You’ve sacrificed so much, giving more of yourself and your life to this damn war, and yet, they can’t let you go, can they? Haven’t you done enough? Haven’t I waited long enough? Your mother and sister, don’t they deserve to have you home too? 

I feel so guilty for feeling this way, but I can’t help but want the same happiness and excitement that Jean is feeling. I regret waiting so long to tell you I love you, Robbie. Why did we wait so long? We could have been spending time in each other's arms long before, and yet we were both too stubborn to admit how we felt. Do I sound silly? I’m sure I do, all of this griping and crying when you’re over there fighting and missing home. I should be checking on you and asking how you are, and instead I’m staining this paper with tears and going on about how envious and sad I am. 

Please, love, tell me how you really are over there, or I will have to seek out Val for the truth. Has it been terribly difficult now that the invasion has passed and the fighting is well underway? I know you’re working and fighting hard, as are the rest of our friends that are with you over there. 

Love, have you written to your mother lately? I know she’s missing you as much as I am, if not more, and would do with knowing that you’re alright. Last week she was worried they weren’t feeding you enough, and had it been anyone else who said that, I may have rolled my eyes, but the way she said it had left me in stitches, Robbie. You know how your mother can be. She comes by at least once a week with my mother to check in on me and Jean, and they bring covered dishes and baked goods that they’ve managed with the rations. I think they’re afraid Jean and I are only consuming martinis. They’re half right, and I will only admit this to you, a chocolate chip cookie does pair best with the infamous Jean Crosby martini. 

We are leaving for upstate tomorrow, so I will post this first thing on my way out the door and hope it finds you soon. I’m counting down the days until this war is behind us. Until we can begin our days next to each other, and end them the same way. There is a future waiting for us, I just wish I knew when we could begin living it. Come home to me soon. 

My heart is yours forever, with all of my love always 

Jo

They packed light; still summertime and incredibly warm, they were able to get away with comfortable sundresses, and some swimsuits. They didn’t need much when they were together- Jules had said it’s the company that counts most. Vika had been a lifesaver and secured a room at her family’s hotel for Jo and Jean for the two nights that Jean would be with them before returning home. Not one to miss out, Jules had stayed as well. Squeezing into one of the beds with Vika while Jo and Jean occupied the other, it had been a slumber party just like the night at Jean and Jo’s home. Four friends laughing until their stomachs hurt, it had taken a visit from Vika’s mother to quiet them down, Jean rushing to hide the evidence of martinis that were scattered around the room. 

It had been so much fun, that Jo had begun to forget why she had made the journey in the first place; until there were three, and they were waving Jean off from the train platform, two with tears in their eyes. The realization of not knowing when their boys would be home striking hard and fast. 

“Two weeks and you’ll be back in the city, right?” Jean looked absolutely riddled with fear as she stood with her bag on the platform, Jo doing all she could to reassure her. 

“Yes,” Jo sniffled, wiping at her eyes and trying in vain not to smudge her makeup. “I promise.”

“Please, Jo. Promise you’ll be there to meet Binger.” Jean gripped her hands so tightly, her eyes wild and nervous. The last time she had seen her so scared was when news of Bubbles’ death reached home, and worry for Harry had begun seeping in like a crack in the roof. 

“I’ll be there,” she winked. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good. I’ll ring Jules once I’m back home. Bing doesn’t get in until tonight… gosh I’m so nervous!”

“You’re going to see that man and forget all about how nervous you were. Now go, before you miss your train.” 

“Jo…”

She pulled her into a hug so fast, and so fiercely, that Jo barely had a moment to catch her footing before hugging Jean back. This friendship, forged in a dark time, was more than two women finding companionship while their men were away fighting. This was sisterhood, and as an only child, Jo had never known it before. The closest person in her life had always been Rosie, and now that his role in her life had shifted, Jean had seamlessly filled in that space. 

“I will see you soon, yea?”

“Yea… yes, yes you will. I’ll have a martini waiting for you.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” Jo grinned, pulling back to give her friend a smile. “Now go on, otherwise Harry will have my head for making you late.”

“Your Robbie would never forgive him.” Jean laughed, wiping at her eyes just as the conductor hollered for All Aboard! 

As the train pulled away, Jean Crosby waving from the window of the car, Jo felt herself become utterly depleted. The sadness that she had tried to ebb away at home, not divulging all of it for fear of guilt, slammed into her full force, and had it not been for Jules and Vika wrapping her up in their arms, she’d have collapsed on the spot. 

“Come now, let’s get back to the hotel,” Vika urged her, gently steering her out of the train station and back towards the car. “Mammi can make us some chai, and we can have a rest.”

“I feel terrible…”

“Terrible, sick?”

“Terrible like I’m riddled with guilt and anger and sadness.”

She doesn’t catch Vika looking over at Jules, knowing that this is more than what Mrs. Patel’s chai can fix, because only Jules knows how she’s feeling, and only Jules can be the one to talk this through with her.  

The hotel is quiet when they arrive back, and Mrs. Patel is at the front desk, a smile on her face as she watches her daughter and friends walk in, but the smile soon fades as she sees the look on Vika’s face. 

“Did Jean get off alright?” She asks, nerves lacing her normally stoic and motherly disposition. 

“She did, Mammi,” Vika replies kindly, joining her mother at the desk while Jo and Jules take a seat on the sofa meant for guests. “Can Juliet and Josephine use the apartment for a little while? I think they…well, Jean’s husband coming home hasn’t been easy for them.”

“Of course, you take them up. I will be behind with some chai and bhel puri.”

“Thank you Mammi.”

The pair on the couch sit quietly as Vika approaches, her voice soft as she speaks to both of them, but her eyes trained on Juliet. 

“Jules, why don’t you two go up to the apartment?”

“Is that…okay with your mother?”

“It’s fine,” Vika’s eyes softened at Jules’ worry over possibly invading the Patel’s personal space, the phrase bundled in her simple question. “Mammi is going to bring up some chai and snacks.”

“Oh Vika, that’s not necessary!” Jo turned to her friend, knowing full well that the hotel needed their full attention. 

“You and Jules need a moment, and I can cover the desk while Mammi is gone.”

“Yes, now you two go right up, and I’ll follow in a moment.” Mrs. Patel is standing next to them, and suddenly it’s as if their own mothers are there, ordering them to eat. 

Nodding, Jo follows Jean upstairs to the apartment, and once inside, she takes in just what it is that makes her friend Vika who she is. The decor, the smells, the homey feel, and photos. It’s all very like Vika, and Jo somehow feels like she’s invading a space not meant for her at all, despite the protests of both Vika and her mother. 

“Jules…”

“It’s just us, Jo. You can say whatever you need to.”

“I just,” the words felt trapped, caught in her throat with no way out unless she forced them up and out into the space between them. “I’m so angry!”

“You’re angry at Rosie?”

“So angry! He should be home, he flew twenty five missions. He was safe, and The Brass pulled the rug out from under all of them!”

“So that’s what happened…”

“Everyone after him needed to fly thirty missions, but his crew was safe at twenty five. He could go home, and he didn’t… he stayed… he signed up for a second tour.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s too good, and doing the right thing is what Robert Rosenthal does, and he can’t help himself. People are dying and can’t fight for themselves, so he’s doing it for them.”

“Oh Jo…” Jules rushed towards her friend. Instantly, her arms are tight around her friend as Jo  finally allowed herself the chance to let go of everything that had been welling up. Things she knew she couldn’t say to Rosie’s mother, or her own mother. Things that somehow, right now, only Jules could understand. 

“Harry getting a furlough…” Jules started, the words dying halfway as she felt Jo shudder a deep breath. 

“When Harry got a furlough, I just… I wanted to be happy for Jean. I am happy for Jean! But I also wish it was Robbie coming home instead.”

“Honey, you’re allowed to feel angry about it,” Jules took a step back, taking Jo’s hands and giving them a gentle squeeze, leading her towards the sofa in the living room. “He’s been gone so long, and all you want to do is start a life that this war has put on hold for you, and you can’t.”

“Jean was so happy, and there I am playing pretend happy over coffee and then feeling guilty, while the poor thing, she’s so nervous that Harry won’t feel the same for her-”

“Oh I doubt that!”

“That’s what I told her,” Jo shook her head, the beginnings of a melancholy smile taking hold. “But since Bubbles’ death, Harry’s been…distant.”

“Oh you don’t think…”

“I don’t know. And if Robbie knows anything, he’s not saying.”

Jules was quiet for a moment, taking a seat on the sofa wordlessly. She seemed far off, her mind somewhere else entirely; if Jo had to wager a guess it was on a certain pilot serving the rest of his war as a prisoner in Germany. 

“I haven’t had a letter from Johnny in a few weeks…” the words are nothing more than a broken whisper. 

“Jules, honey…”

“I know that letters aren’t as frequent now that he’s,” she stopped herself from speaking the rest out loud, Jo not needing to hear it to know what she was thinking. “Olive writes, and promises updates, but I can’t help but be constantly worried.”

“When did you last hear from him?”

“The start of June, and now, August is on the horizon and I’m scared, Jo.”

She’s beside her in an instant, her arms mimicking Jules’ earlier movements, pulling her close and hugging her tight. Somehow, Jo thinks she can will all of their broken pieces back together just by being there for each other, in hopes that if they love their boys enough from a distance, it will help bring them home faster. 

“Oh Jules, I’m sure Olive would have written if anything happened.”

“I know,” she sniffled, swiping under her eyes quickly. “No news is good news and all that.”

“And bad news travels fast.” 

“Yes, you’re right,” she took a deep and shaky breath, exhaling forcefully to try and clear the fog that seemed to have settled around her. “I just… I miss him so much Jo. I don’t have to explain to you how that part of it feels.”

“We worry for different reasons but we worry just the same.” 

The door of the apartment opened then, and both girls looked up through bleary eyes as Mrs. Patel stepped into the living room. She was holding a tray from the hotel, complete with two steaming mugs of chai and a bowl filled with snacks for them. Her gaze, normally hard and all business, seemed to soften at the sight of them. Crossing the room quickly, she placed the tray down on the table beside the sofa before coming to stand in front of them. Wordlessly, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a simple white handkerchief, handing it to Jules. 

“Thank you Mrs. Patel,” Juliet accepts the handkerchief and gently dabs at her eyes, careful not to get too much of her makeup on the clean, white fabric. Afraid to leave a stain, a reminder of this moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to get this dirty.”

“That is what the washing is for, Juliet. Go on, both of you.”

Nodding, Jules continues to wipe her tears before passing it to Jo, who is in the same state as she is. Quietly letting the pain escape like rivers down her cheeks. 

“Thank you for being so good to Ruthvika, ” Mrs. Patel speaks quietly, unsure of what she should exactly be saying, but knowing that she must offer something to her daughter's oldest friend, and now, Josephine. “Remember, we must continue to fight here every day; our own wars, they are painful, but keep hope, both of you, that they will come home to you safe.”

They were words that only a mother could speak. And because only a mother could offer that comfort, when she leaned forward to pull both girls close to her for the briefest of moments, it was the gauze over a wound that had spread so deep, neither Jo nor Jules were sure it would ever heal. Hope, it seemed, would fill the deep, painful space over time, and it would close the gap until one day, hopefully, the wound did not exist at all. 

——————————————————————————————————

It felt longer coming home from upstate this time. Jo had attributed that to not having Jean for companionship. But she was in her home, now with Harry, who had arrived in New York safely, two weeks ago. The jealousy had seemed to fizzle and sit on the backburner of her heart now. Jean deserved every moment with Harry; but Jo couldn’t help the sadness that crept in when it was quiet, knowing that Rosie was still over there.

It had been a wonderful two week reprieve with Juliet, but now Jo was back home in Brooklyn. She had called Jean to let her know that she was coming back, and was promptly given a date and time to meet her and Harry for dinner and drinks. She was excited on one hand, to finally meet not just Jean’s husband but Rosie’s closet friend. 

When the taxi pulled up to her parents home in Flatbush, she quickly paid the driver after he had pulled her suitcase from the trunk. The gentleman tipped his hat and drove off quickly, leaving her standing on the sidewalk, gaze fixed on the house. With a deep sigh, she made her way up the steps to the porch and pushed the door open. Once in the foyer, she dropped her suitcase to the floor and swiftly removed her gloves and hat, depositing them on the credenza by the door. 

“I’m back!” She called, stepping further into the house. She could hear her mother rustling around, before she appeared in the foyer with an almost frantic look in her eye.

“Josephine!” Hugging her tightly, she stepped back, appraising her daughter and sensing the sadness immediately. “Sweetheart, welcome back!”

“Thanks,” she forced a grin, thankful her mother chose not to ask if she was okay. She knew there would be minimal gossip and cocktails that night, however. “Are you okay? Mom, you look worried.”

“You have a visitor. A gentleman is waiting in the living room for you.”

“Oh god, is he, is it… did something happen to Robbie?”

“He says his name is Mr. Lewis?”

“Lewis?” the name rolled over in her mind for a moment, before it dawned on her. “Pappy!”

Jo rushed from the foyer into the living room, any ladylike behavior thrown out the window as she came skidding to a stop in the doorway. There, on the sofa, sat a man who had been described to her in numerous letters from Rosie. The only person she had ever trusted sitting in the Co-Pilot’s seat of Rosie’s fort, and in his own words Rosie’s best friend. 

“Hiya Jo!” Pappy grinned, standing from the sofa as he saw her.

“Pappy! Oh my- what are you doing here!”

“Rosie sent me,” he grinned, coming to greet her properly, the pair finally able to put names to faces, more than just a picture on Rosie’s side table on base or a name in a letter. “He thought with Croz home, you might need some cheering up.”

“You came all the way here just to cheer me up?” that couldn’t possibly be right, could it? Had Rosie sent him all this way just to keep her company for the second half of Harry Crosby’s furlough? 

“Well, you’re Rosie’s sweetheart, plus Val would give me a wallop if she knew I didn’t come see you when you needed it. She sends her regards by the way, boy, wait till you meet her! Have you met Croz yet? I’m sure he’ll want to meet you too, you’re very popular amongst the Riveters crew you know? We all-”

“Pappy, slow down!” she laughed, and for the first time in weeks, she didn’t have to force the sound from her chest. 

“Right! Sorry, but I am really glad to finally meet ya!”

“I’m so glad to meet you too.” she grinned. 

Guiding him back down to the sofa so they could talk. She just caught her mother peeking around the doorframe, a smile giving way as she noticed Jo’s own. 

“How did he even get in touch with you so quickly, the mail takes ages these days!”

“He’s a big shot Major now,” Pappy chuckled. “You know him, he finds a way.”

“He does find a way, doesn’t he…” she mused. 

“How have you been doing? Your mother said you were upstate?”

“Oh! Yes, well with Harry home, I didn’t want to impose on them by staying with Jean-”

“Oh right, I forgot about that! Rosie did tell me you had moved in with Croz’s wife!”

“Yes, a few months ago, and we took jobs on the switchboard at the War Department.”

“Look at you! That’s great!”

“It’s been a lot of fun,” Jo nodded, and she realized she rather liked talking with Pappy. “So, when Harry sent the date of his arrival, I went upstate to visit with John Brady’s girlfriend, Juliet.”

“How’s she? Must be worried sick over Brady…”

“She’s handling it as well as can be expected, but she gets letters when the mail is cooperative, and Olive sends mail to her in the inbetween.”

“Cousin Olive,” he sounds almost wistful. “I miss her…”

“Wait, she’s your cousin? Robbie never mentioned that…”

“Well, we’re both Lewis’.”

“Does that automatically make you cousins, Pappy?”

“Sure it does! Make your own family, right? That’s what we’re all doing to get by.”

“You’re right about that. And how have you been doing since coming home?”

“Oh, my Ma is fussing over me one minute and the next she’s praying I meet someone and get married so I can be her problem.”

“Well, this is New York, you never know. Your mother might get her wish.”

“Rosie would love that wouldn’t he, hell, I’d love it if I were closer.”

Pappy stayed all afternoon, happy to chat with Jo and enjoy some lunch with her and her parents, before they moved outside to sit on the front steps. It was just bordering on early evening and the kids who lived on the block were still running through the streets, soaking up every second of the summer they could. The fire hydrant on the corner was spraying water, turning her little corner of Flatbush Brooklyn into a water park. 

They had skirted around talk of the war and Rosie in detail, but now the sun was setting and Pappy would have to leave, and Jo wasn’t sure she wanted him to before she was able to ask him what she needed to. 

“Pappy, where are you staying?”

“Oh! With Rosie’s Ma actually, yea, just down the block.”

“Of course you are,” she shook her head, a smile on her face at Robbie's generous heart. “You went there first, right? Before coming here I mean.”

“Oh sure, yea I didn’t want her getting worried. She’s sweet, I see where Rosie gets it from…”

“His father was kind. Robbie gets his determination from him; but his heart, his love of jazz, the kind look in his eyes, all that comes from Mrs. Rosenthal.”

“He’s alright, Jo, you know?”

“Are you saying that to placate me, or is he really alright?”

“I mean it, he’s really alright. And he’s not alone either…”

“I don’t like the idea of him flying without you, Pappy.”

“I considered it, ya know?”

“Staying?”

“He told me to go home, in the end when I couldn’t make up my mind, he did it for me.”

“And now?”

“Some days I wish I had stayed, finished what he and I started,” Pappy pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, offering one to Jo first, who politely declined. “And then I think of guys like Nash and Speas who didn’t get to come home, and I think I gotta grab it while it’s hot.”

“I don’t resent you for coming home, I hope you know that.”

“Oh, I know, I wouldn’t be here if I thought you did.”

“I just always felt like he was safer with you in that plane, and you with him,” she sighed, taking the cigarette from Pappy and taking a long pull. “This damn war.”

“He’d balk at you if he saw you do that.”

“Then it’ll be our secret.” Jo grinned, passing the cigarette back to Pappy. 

They sat quietly while Pappy continued to smoke. The playful shrieks of the kids playing filled the companionable silence. She thought of a day when Rosie would be next to her, pressed shoulder to shoulder and her hand in his, possibly watching their own children play in the street. 

They had done the same when they were young. Her father and Mr. Rosenthal would pop the fire hydrant open and they would run in the cool water while the August sun beat down on the street, Rosie’s curls plastered to his forehead, his blue eyes rivaling the clear skies they played under. As they got older, he had picked up a paper route for the summers and Jo would ride on the handlebars of his bicycle, much to her mothers dismay, and help him deliver papers to the neighbors before seeking shade on the front porch of her home. Now, she was on the same porch, and the person next to her was doing their best to fill the void of her usual companion. 

————————————————————

Pappy had proved to be excellent company, not just for Jo but Mrs. Rosenthal as well. It seemed Rosie’s mother perked up quite a bit at having a young man to dote on as she would with her son. Pappy brought a sense of humor back to their block, and had Mrs. Rosenthal cooking up a storm once again, the need to feed him until her heart's content much as it was before her son left for war. 

Jo had been at the house for dinner almost every night, after spending the days taking Pappy around New York City. 

The phone had rang in the middle of breakfast, Mr. Harris stood to pick it up, allowing his wife and daughter to continue their conversation. When he stepped into the room with a smile on his face, Jo knew it was for her. 

“Josephine, it’s Jean Crosby.”

“Oh! Wonderful, thank you!”

“Jean!”

“Jo! Oh how are you, I miss you!”

“I miss you too, dear, how’s Harry?”

“Oh he’s wonderful…actually that’s why I called.”

“Oh?”

“Is tonight good?”

“Oh, tonight is great actually!”

“Wonderful! Binger will call the Stork Club and reserve a table, is that okay? I know you don’t want to go to Minton’s without-”

“The Stork Club is perfect Jean, thank you. Tell Harry to make it for four.”

“Four?”

“Yes, Pappy’s here!”

“Pappy?!”

“Yes! Robbie sent him!”

“Oh what a sweet gesture! Well I can’t wait to meet him, and I know Bing will be happy to see him.”

Jo could hear Harry Crosby in the background of the call asking Jean who their fourth was for dinner, before she told him to hush while she was on the phone. 

“What time tonight, Jean?”

“Seven thirty, unless you want to make it eight?”

“Seven thirty is fine,” Jo agreed. “I’m taking Pappy to Coney Island, but we’ll be back in plenty of time.”

“Where’s he staying?” Jean suddenly asked. “Surely not with you!”

“Oh no, with Robbie’s mother. And boy is she loving it!”

“I bet!” Jean laughed. “Well listen, I’m going to run, because Harry is looking for breakfast and I’m afraid he might burn our kitchen down if I leave him a moment longer. I’ll see you tonight dear, and I can’t wait!”

“Oh me too, Jean! Now go feed your husband, and I’ll see you later.”

Hanging up the phone she went back to join her parents at the table, her toast now a bit cold, but she wasn’t bothered. Not when she had a full day ahead of her. 

“Going out tonight?” Her mother grinned. 

“Yes, Harry’s making a reservation at the Stork Club for all of us,” she spoke from behind her coffee cup. “I’m so looking forward to finally meeting him and seeing Jean.”

“You and Jean have missed each other,” her father nodded, inserting himself into the conversation. “I could hear it in her voice when I picked up the phone.”

“I have missed her. Please, don’t think I’m not happy to be home with you both, but it's been so lovely living with her.”

“I think it’s done you a world of good with Robert gone. Naturally when he comes home, so will you, but right now, this is what’s best for you Josephine.”

“Your father’s right,” her mother placed a hand over hers, giving a gentle squeeze. “Then again, once Robert comes home, hopefully it won’t be long until you two are starting your life together.”

She was halfway through formulating a response when there was a knock at the door; using it as her escape from any more talk of her and Rosie’s future, she quickly jumped up to answer it. Pulling back the door, she found Pappy on the front porch with Mrs. Rosenthal behind him. He was dressed in civilian clothes for the first time since he had arrived, and grinning cheekily at her. 

“Heya Jo!”

“Pappy,” chuckling, she couldn’t help but shake her head as he stepped inside the foyer. “Good morning.”

He gave her a gentle hug, before allowing Mrs. Rosenthal to greet her, the older woman scooping Jo up in her arms for a hug, the two of them saying so much without saying anything at all. 

“Hello dear,” she grinned, hands still holding Jo’s shoulders as she appraised her. “Did we interrupt breakfast?”

“No more than Jean Crosby did just a moment ago.” Jo laughed, closing the door and guiding them both inside. 

“Is she getting on well with her husband at home?”

“Oh yes, it seems that she’s doing just fine.”

“Wonderful,” Mrs. Rosenthal smiled. “I’ve had some mail from Robert…”

“Oh? Is everything-”

“He’s fine, dear. Missing you, but otherwise fine.”

“Well, I miss him too,” she pouted slightly. “There’s been no mail from him.”

“The letter I got was weeks past the date at the top, so just hold out hope, yours should be on its way.”

“Don’t worry, Jo,” Pappy chimed in. “He’d never forget about ya.”

“Thanks Pappy…” she gave his arm a gentle squeeze, righting her before turning towards the kitchen. “Coffee?”

The trio entered the kitchen to find Mrs. Harris already preparing a fresh pot of coffee, her father standing to greet Pappy with a handshake before gesturing for him to have a seat while Mrs. Rosenthal took up her regular spot at their table. It was all very domestic, and not lost on Jo how lucky she was to have the family she did; both blood and chosen. 

“Pappy, we have big plans today.” She grinned, sitting back at her place to resume picking at her toast. 

“We’ve had big plans all week!” He laughed. 

“I’m taking you to Coney Island! Because everyone should be forced to ride the Cyclone at least once in their life.”

“…Forced?!”

“Well, Robbie forces me on it every year, and secretly I love it, but don’t tell him that. So now, I get to do it for you.”

“I’ve heard horror stories about that thing from Val!”

“Oh don’t be a baby, it’ll be fun! Jean Crosby even rode it with me!”

“She did?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Fine… if Jean Crosby can do it.”

All three of the parents in the room laughed as Pappy’s face blanched, the airman taking a cautionary sip of his coffee to settle his nerves. Surely, if Jean Crosby could do it… and he’d hate to have to tell Rosie he chickened out on the Cyclone. 

_________________________________

The Stork Club was bustling as Jo and Pappy walked in. He had handled an afternoon on the boardwalk like a pro, and she’d be sure to tell Rosie all about it in her next letter, but now he was back in his uniform and she was dressed for a night out and he was guiding her inside and towards the bar so she could try and locate Jean. 

“Oh! I see Croz!” Pappy was waving his arm in the direction of Harry Crosby, and when Jo turned she spotted Jean, on the arm of a handsome man, dressed in the same uniform as Pappy. 

“Croz!” 

“Pappy! Jean didn’t tell me you were the fourth!”

“Surprise,” Jean grinned, arm still looped through her husbands. “When Jo told me this morning I decided to keep it a surprise.”

“Well, this is great,” Harry beamed, giving Pappy a firm handshake, happy to see a familiar face. “What are you doing in the city?”

“Rosie sent me. He thought Jo might need a friend.”

“And now I have three.” She smiled, Jean now standing with her, the two girls’ arms linked as they watched the boys catch up. 

“Josephine,” Harry turned to her, and she just felt Jean nudge her forward to say hello. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to finally meet you.”

His uniform looked almost identical to the one she had sent Rosie off in at Grand Central all those months ago. Olive green shirt and jacket, tie, khaki slacks, and crush cap. Harry was sporting oak leaf pins on his lapels, along with multiple other citations and pins that he had served long into this war. She imagined that Robbie's uniform looked much the same these days, save for his flight wings indicating him a pilot, while Harry’s was a globe for navigators. 

Harry Crosby had big, brown cow eyes, and a gentle smile about him. He was every bit of how both Jean and Rosie had described him; Jean going on about how handsome he was and Rosie describing him as terribly capable but riddled with nerves. He was fiddling with his fingers, his hat tucked under his arm as he watched her step forward. Harry quickly handed his hat to Pappy and pulled her close for a hug, shocking her only slightly before she felt a sense of familiarity and comfort fall over her. 

“Thank you, Jo, ” He whispered to her before stepping back. “I can’t say it enough.”

Before she could ask what he was thanking her for, he stepped back, taking her hands and continuing to talk to her. 

“You two really have looked after each other haven’t you.”

“That’s what friends do,” she smiled. “And I should be thanking you for doing the same, Harry.”

“Oh, it’s Rosie who looks after me, really.”

“Still, you two keep an eye on each other and it just makes me feel more at ease.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual,” he grinned, releasing her hands and moving to wrap an arm around Jean’s waist. “Now, let’s go sit and we can exchange stories. Somehow I have a feeling you two girls have gotten up to quite a lot.”

Dinner was delightful, and the conversation flowed effortlessly. Friends, the really good ones,  it seemed, were the key to getting through tough times, because they would laugh with you, and let you cry on their shoulder if you needed it. Jo had done just that with both Jo and Pappy, as well as Jules and Vika earlier on. They had let her get it all out, those bottled up feelings, and she felt grateful for it. Lighter and less tense, she was able to enjoy happy moments like this. 

She was sitting next to Jean, the pair quietly conversing while Pappy and Harry spent some time catching up on the goings on at Thorpe Abbotts; it was something that both girls knew was meant for their ears only, so they took the time to chat amongst themselves. 

“Has it been alright, now that he’s home?”

“We’ve had a lot of good, long talks.” Jean nodded, sipping her martini with a slight frown. 

“What? Something wrong?”

“Mine are better.” She rolled her eyes slightly, making Jo laugh. 

“Yours are dangerous,” she corrected her friend with a gentle slap to the wrist. “But they are the best I’ve ever had.”

“But yes, Bing and I have done a lot of talking.”

“Just talking?”

“Josephine!”

“Well, he is your husband, I would hope you’ve done more than talk.”

Jean fixes her with a stare, eyebrow raised and mock challenging as she sticks her tongue out in the most Jean Crosby way possible, causing Jo to fall into a fit of laughter so loud, that both men turn to look at the girls. Jean is quick to wave them back to their own conversation, while Jo composes herself. 

“Did you have to do that?”

“Yes,” Jean grins. “It’s entirely too fun to watch you fall into stitches like that.”

“Now, tell me,” Jo rights herself again, placing a hand over Jean’s on the table. “You and Harry, you had a good talk?”

“We did. He told me about… her.”

“Oh Jean!”

“There was an affair,” she nods. “A woman in London, and while I understand he was coping with Bubbles, and then all of his friends being captured, Jo, it hurts.”

“It’s allowed to be hurtful and understandable. So much of life is.”

“He said he’s ended it, now coming home if even for a short while, he doesn’t want to see her again.”

“Oh Jean, I don’t know what to say.”

“You’ve listened for months while I cried over his distance, and that’s all I could have ever asked of you.”

“Well, then I should be thanking you too, and apologizing for being such a grump the last few weeks.”

“You were not a grump!”

“I was an absolute grouch, and it was not like me. I misplaced my feelings over Robbie being gone on your happiness.”

“Josephine…”

“Speaking of your happiness,” she grinned. “Looks like he’s trying to catch your eye.”

“Oh, Binger can wait just a second.” she pulled Jo tightly to her, the two women sharing a hug that spoke volumes. 

There was no animosity, and no one upping the other. They were best friends, getting through the hardships of war together. Harry would be gone in another few days, and so would Pappy, and they’d both go on together again. There would be days at work and dinners from the automat, weekends with Juliet and Vika up in Victor, and nights spent in the quiet of their house with just the radio on while they sipped martinis. In between all of that, there should be two men to join in the simple moments of their lives, and one day they would be there, it was only a matter of time. 

She knew, deep down, Rosie being in England was where he was supposed to be right now. If he had come home, he’d have been restless and unsettled, and neither of them could start a life properly that way. She knew that. As Jean said, we understand but we hurt, and that’s what all of this had been. Hurtful, and confusing but understanding. A part of her life that she needed to go through in order to get to the next part with the man she loved. It was just another chapter, the ticking hand on a clock, a turn around the sun. 

Pappy’s laughter pulled the two girls apart, and they found him doubled over while Harry sat patiently waiting. 

“Are you finished now?” Harry glared at him. 

“No!” Pappy wheezed, reaching for his napkin to wipe at his eyes. “Tell me again how you face planted and Tattie had to put you to bed!”

“Pappy…”

“Oh come on! Croz, that’s funny!”

“Not for the fellas who had to haul me out of Operations.”

“Who did?” Jean posed the question to him casually, already knowing the answer from Val’s letter but wanting to hear her husband admit it. 

“Rosie and Dougie…”

“Oh Dougie must have loved that!” Pappy roared with laughter again. 

“He grumbled about me being heavier than I look for a few days after I woke up.”

“Slept three days straight through the landings. Only you Croz.”

“Yeah, yeah, only me.” He shook his head, letting Pappy get his licks in while he could before turning the conversation somewhere Jo would appreciate. 

“You tell Jo about how Rosie was up in the sky humming Artie Shaw over the radio?”

“He did what!” She crowed, eyes wide in amusement knowing just how much he loved his jazz. 

“I hadn’t… that one was rough.” 

“You don’t have to,” Jo replied, understanding. “He says a lot of those early flights were rough, so-”

“No, no, if you want me to tell you I will!”

“He conveniently left out how he hummed his way back home, so…”

“It was our third mission, ever. And I won’t go into too much detail but, we ended up alone in the sky, and I guess to distract himself or us, he starts humming.”

“Artie Shaw, you said?”

“Over the radio, all of us heard it!” Pappy chuckled. 

“The Chant, right?”

“How did you! Jo!”

“I’ve known him my whole life,” she laughed. “And I know what makes him tick.”

“Well, on that note, how about a dance ladies?” Harry posed the question to both of them, but he and Jean exchanged a quick glance that Jo didn’t miss. 

Harry was at her side just as she stood, extending his hand to her just as she caught Pappy leading Jean to the dance floor, the two chatting idly. 

“Harry? No, go with your wife, I know she’s missed you.” Jo tried to convince him, but he looped her arm in his and carried on walking. 

“Promised Rosie I’d give you a good spin on the dance floor, and while I may have two left feet, a promise is a promise.” 

“Oh goodness, Harry, you can tell him we danced, it’s really alright.” She laughed, letting him lead her regardless, Pappy and Jean fumbling along next to them in a fit of their own laughter. 

Harry spun her through the upbeat songs, and took Jean in his arms during all the slow ones. They had carried on this way for quite a while, before returning to their table for a drink, both Pappy and Harry having removed their Class A jackets. How they had lasted as long as they had, especially in July, was unbelievable. The Stork Club was beginning to empty out, and as Harry and Pappy flagged down their waiter to settle the bill, Jo and Jean excused themselves to the ladies room to freshen up. With a bustling restroom filled with women reapplying lipstick and powder to their noses, both Jo and Jean were back at their table in no time. Harry and Pappy were fussing over the bill, the two of them doing quick math before placing some bills on the table just as the girls sat back down. Jean gently nudged Harry, drawing his attention to her as she gestured to his jacket with a nod of her head and a gentle smile. His eyes lit up before he reached behind to the jacket draped over the back of his chair, digging into his inside breast pocket, pulling out an envelope that Jo had become very familiar with over the course of the months Rosie had been gone. 

“Before I forgot,” Harry handed the envelope to Jo, a smile on his face. “Special delivery.”

The front of the envelope didn’t have her address on it like all the others she had received before. No, this one had Rosie’s handwriting scrawled across the front and the words My Dearest Jo to indicate that it was for her. 

“Oh Harry, he sent this with you?”

“He wanted you to have one that didn’t go through the APO review before going into transit,” Harry explained. “You didn’t think Pappy was the only surprise, did you?”

“You’ve been holding on to this the entire time you’ve been home?”

“Well, I had assumed I’d meet you a bit sooner but when Jean told me you were upstate with Juliet…”

“Harry…”

“She explained it to me, and it’s alright. I understand.”

“I shouldn’t have-”

“No, don’t say that,” Harry frowned, placing a hand over hers as Jean and Pappy looked on. “I know that me coming home wasn’t easy for you, and I know that Rosie taking on a second tour has been even harder. I hope you know we all gave him an earful when he signed those papers…”

“I’ve got it on good authority, from multiple sources.” She chuckled, swiping at her eyes to stop the tears. 

“Val.” Harry and Pappy said at the same time, the woman’s name punctuated with a laugh. 

“She keeps me informed,” Jo grinned. “Thank you, Harry.”

“For the mail?”

“For everything.” 

_________________________________

Pappy had dropped her back off at her house after they had all left the Stork Club, before bidding her goodnight and turning to go back towards the Rosenthal home. Turning towards the living room, she expected to see her mother waiting up for her, but found that both of her parents had gone up to bed. With the living room vacant, she pulled Rosie’s letter from her purse before placing it on the table, and removed her shoes before curling up on the cushions. Carefully, she slid her thumb under the back of the envelope, and pulled the paper from inside. Unfolding it, she found Rosie’s handwriting scrawled across, his message to her waiting. 

My dearest Jo,

I know that by the time you get this, Croz will already be home, and I hope he’s gotten this to you in one piece, and himself to Jean. I also hope Pappy has gotten there safely and proven good at cheering you up. I thought he might be a nice change in pace for you right now. 

Honey Pie, I’m so sorry. I’ve hurt you without even realizing how badly at first, and I don’t know how I could ever ask you to forgive me. I’ve been selfish in staying to fight, when we could be together at home, starting our life. I thought that by fighting, staying here, I was doing the job I needed to keep you safe. It was also selfish, in part, because I thought if I left, I’d be restless. And you didn’t deserve me like that. You didn’t deserve to start a life with someone who felt like he should still be in the fight. As it turns out, I’m restless here most days, thinking of what we could be doing at home. 

I’ll admit, when Croz got furlough, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Of course I’m happy for my friend, our friends if you include Jean, but part of me wondered why it wasn’t me. I’ve served twice over now, and yet somehow they can’t see fit to let me go for a few weeks. It’s rough, knowing that he gets to return to his wife, my crew is all home, and the other fellas here have their sweethearts. Sometimes seeing Ev Blakely and Dougie with Val and Olive stings, no matter how good they are and how much they make space for me in their circle. There are others who’s special someone isn’t here, and we lament on occasion, but I'm not nearly close to anyone the way I am with the fellas in Ops, and the Red Cross girls. 

I wish you were here with me, in that navy blue jumpsuit slinging coffees with Val and Olive, yelling at us all for crowding the truck, helping to wrangle Meatball until Benny DeMarco comes back. But then, I know you’re safe at home, you and Jean looking after each other, your parents and my Ma all close by. I think that’s where I find I’m more grateful to have you, sweetheart. Safe. 

I suppose I should update you on the goings on here, so that you know how our friends are doing as well. Val and Olive are just fine, keeping every fella in line and then some. It’s enjoyable to share an office with Ev Blakely; he’s mostly quiet while we work, unless Val stops by with coffee and a bit to eat for the pair of us. She often joins us for a while before going back to the Clubmobile. The same for Olive and Doug. Those two girls are never far apart, if one’s visiting so is the other. Dougie shares an office with Croz; it stresses him out. Dougie is usually very relaxed, but being office mates with Croz tends to work him up. Helen, Nash’s old sweetheart, has started corresponding with one of the fellas in the Stalag- Charlie Cruikshank. Everyone calls him Crank, but she has a special nickname for him that no one will divulge to us fellas. All I know is, she seems happy, and that’s good, because losing Nash tore her up. Red Cross Tattie is seeing Air Exec Jack Kidd- but no one is supposed to know. Jack’s not that great at locking his door. Poor Doug got an eye- and an ear- full last week. See honey, you’re not the only one who can gossip. I do alright from over here. Oh! Can’t forget Meatball- husky fur everywhere but, when it’s cold out, he’s great for staying warm. We shuffle him back and forget between our racks and the girls so that everyone gets a turn. Turns out, the dog likes sleepovers with the girls best- Val paints his nails with her red varnish! Not sure how much DeMarco is going to like that when he’s back though.

Speaking of our friend Harry, I need to apologize twice, because though I’m sure you know by now, I’ve kept this from you. It was not the easiest of positions to be in, because he trusted me, then again you have stood by Jean this entire time. There was someone in London, and I hope he’s confessed to her by now. He confided in me on New Years, and then Doug and the others saw him with her in London while on a weekend pass. I assume that’s part of what had Doug so stressed out, Croz was using the phone to make calls to her and arrange meetings when days were particularly rough. I hope you know that I would never step out on you, you’re it for me my sweet girl, and you always will be. 

I’ve often pondered what our life might be like when this is all over, Jo. It’s a pretty picture that I like to conjure up when the days are particularly dreary. You and me, in a house all our own, with a front porch to sit on, just like we do now, watching the neighborhood kids. Maybe we’ll be watching our own kids play in the street, and I’ll be the dad who’s opening the fire hydrant for them to keep cool in the summer. We’d have our friends, and maybe spend summers at the Cape with them. Go dancing at Minton’s on Saturday’s, or have Jean and Croz over for dinner. Curl up on Sunday’s and drink coffee in bed, spend the day tangled together lazily. I can’t wait for all of those days, honey. I can’t wait. 

Promise me you’ll keep your chin up, and that smile on your face. I know it’s hard now, and hopefully, Pappy’s been good company. You’ll have to let me know what adventures you two get up to while he’s there. If you do anything, I’m begging you to take him on the Cyclone. It’s a right of passage after all, and somehow, I imagine it would be quite comical. He’s a good friend, Jo, and he cares about you as much as he does me. He’ll be there to listen when you need it. 

I love you honey pie, and I’ll be home soon. I promise. Sending millions of hugs and kisses and all of my love. 

Yours forever,

Robbie

His signature and declaration of love were blurred as tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over and onto the paper. Holding his letter close to her chest, where it was free from the salty reminders of his absence, only then did she allow the tears to fall. Quiet sobs in the empty living room, praying to whoever was listening, begging, for him to come back to her. 

_________________________________

“Mail call, fellas!” 

Rosie looked up to find Tattie Spaatz in the doorway of his and Ev Blakely’s shared office, a handful of envelopes in her hands as she leaned against the doorframe. Blakely looked up, pulling the cigarette from between his lips and resting it in the ashtray on his desk before taking the offered mail from her. 

“Thanks Tat,” he nodded, passing Rosie’s over to him. “Dougie’s off with Olive so, if he’s got anything you can drop it here, his office is locked.”

“Oh, even better, thanks Ev. See you later Rosie.”

“See ya Tattie…” Rosie half waved as she walked out the door, looking up from the papers on his desk just in time to see her casually stroll into Jack Kidd’s office. 

“They’re at it again…” he shook his head, Ev’s laughter filling the silence. 

“Yeah well, whatever she’s doing got the bug out of his ass.”

“You sound like Val.”

“Who do you think said it first?” Ev grinned, picking up his mail.

“Anything good?” Rosie nodded towards the envelope in his hands, his own mail resting next to him on his desk. 

“My mother, more than likely with a few sentences for me and three pages for her future daughter in-law.”

“Aren’t all our Ma’s like that…”

Blakely didn’t respond, instead leaving Rosie to open his mail while he set to reading from his mother back in Seattle. Slipping his thumb under the back of the envelope, he pulled out a letter written in Pappy’s messy scrawl, but legible at the very least. 

Hey pal! 

How’s it going over there in East Anglia? Have you single handedly won the war yet, or did Harding tell you to save some Krauts for the rest of the crews? I’m just kidding, I know you’re up in Operations with the other guys, so hopefully the paperwork isn’t putting you to sleep yet. 

I’m back at your Ma’s house. Croz and I took the girls to the Stork Club for dinner and some dancing, and before you ask yes, I warned your girlfriend that I have two left feet. She seemed happy to go out, and I think a little relieved to meet Croz. She’s trying really hard to be brave, but pal, she’s ready for you to come home. And don’t worry, Croz delivered your letter- I left her to read it after I dropped her back off at her folks house. You weren’t kidding when you said the same block! She’s practically across the street from your Ma’s house! Oh, and thanks again for letting me stay at your place while I’m here. Your bed is pretty comfy for a big shot Major. That’s payback for having to ride the Cyclone, by the way! She dragged me on that thing, and said that if Jean Crosby could do it I could too. Didn’t have it in me to tell her no, but dear god, how could you make that girl ride it year after year! 

I don’t think I need to tell you, but just to make sure we’re all on the same page I’m going to do it anyway. Jo is amazing, and she’s so much more than how you described her. And she loves ya. I mean, she really truly loves ya! That kind of thing isn’t easy to find, so, would ya finish this damn thing and come home to her? She deserves to have at least that much. So do you.  

Anyway, take care of yourself Rosie. Give my regards to everyone still over there with ya, especially Cousin Olive. 

Your friend and Co-Pilot

Pappy Lewis

The paper fell to the desk with a sigh, Rosie’s head falling into his hands almost as fast as the paper from his grip. How could he be so stupid? Sure, Pappy was a great friend and he trusted him to be the friend Jo needed during Croz’s furlough, but Jo had a friend. She had Jean, and she had the girls here who wrote to her, and Juliet upstate. What she needed was him, and he dropped the ball. 

“God damnit…”

“Rosie? You okay pal?”

Looking up, he found Blakely putting his own mail back in its envelope, turning in his chair to face him fully. He deftly pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it quickly, focusing his attention back on him. 

“Rosie…?”

“Yea, I’m just…” he swiped a hand down his face with a groan, trying to find the words to actually make sense of it all. He couldn’t. “No, Ev. I not okay.”

“Alright, well, what’s eating at ya?” The smoke billowed from his lips as he spoke, swirling around both him and Rosie. Though he wasn’t a smoker, Rosie found it oddly comforting as it wrapped around him. 

“Pappy sent a letter. I asked him to go out and look after Jo while Croz was home, I had a feeling she wasn’t going to take his furlough all that well, and it turns out I was right.”

“Couldn’t have been easy, what, with Croz being home and you-”

“I should be home already, Ev.”

“Do you regret it? Reupping?”

“They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, right?”

“Jesus, Rosie,” Ev exhaled, turning to knock the ashes off the end of his cigarette. “What did Pappy have to say?”

“He took her to the Stork Club for dinner and dancing with Croz and Jean. She made him get on the Cyclone. I should be taking her to the club for dinner and dancing and dragging her on that damn ride.” 

“Pal, I know we all tried to talk you out of it before you went in to see Bennet, and I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you should have listened to us. It’s not going to change anything.”

“There’s a but coming,” Rosie raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ve known you long enough, Blakely.”

“There is a but coming, you’re right. When you do get home, make sure that girl knows how sorry you are, and how much you love her.”

“Gonna marry her.”

“Good, put a ring on her finger. Shit, pal, if I could run away from all this with Val right now, I wouldn’t stop to question it. I’d just go.”

“I’m a bonehead. At least that’s probably the word Croz would use.” 

“Want me to call you a bonehead?”

“No, please. I feel bad enough.”

“Don’t feel bad, you can’t beat yourself up too much. You’ll never get out of your own head if you do.”

“Thanks, Ev.”

“I know I’m not Croz, but we're friends so don’t ever feel like we’re not.”

“Sometimes it's easier to talk to him,” Rosie sighed. “His wife isn’t here, Jo isn’t here, we just have that to gripe over. You and Doug…”

“I get it, Val and Olive are here, and it seems like it’s a million times easier, but I’ll tell ya what, there was a time it wasn’t.”

“Bremen?”

“Bremen, and everything before Bremen. Africa especially.”

“Biddick…”

“Yeah,” Ev sighed. “I always worried something would yank me from her too soon. Then Curt went down and I realized I could just as easily have been the one to go down, and leave her without so much as a warning. Jo doesn’t see all of this, so she’s protected. Val sees bodies carried out of the hospital, and most of her friends covered in blood when they’re pulled out of a fort, or limping into Interrogation. I wish she didn’t have to.”

“I see your point. Sometimes it’s not always greener on the other side.”

“It is, and it isn’t.”

“Jo is protected back home, just wish I was there to protect her.”

“Soon enough, Rosie. Soon enough.”

“Thanks for the chat, Ev.”

“Anytime, Pal,” Ev stood from his seat, and clapped a hand on Rosie's shoulder. “Now come on, I’ll buy you a drink at the club.”

“And Val?”

“She’ll meet us later, I think she’s up in Harding’s office working on some stuff.”

Quickly, they shut off the lights and locked the office, leaving their paperwork for the next day. Rosie stuffed Pappy’s letter into his jacket pocket, following Ev out the door and through Operations until they were outside. Neither bothered to attempt to bid Jack Kidd goodnight. 

The air was cool, and the lights that illuminated the walkways were just flickering on as they turned towards the officers club, already filling up with replacements spilling from the mess halls, and the odd crew they were friendly with. 

“You think he told Jean?” Rosie turned to catch Blakely’s gaze as the other man lit up a cigarette. Realization dawned on him when he figured out what exactly Rosie was hinting at. 

“He’d be stupid not to.”

“I only just told Jo, though I’m guessing she had an idea.”

“When did Croz tell you?”

“Remember New Year’s Eve? Before you and Dougie came into the racks with the bottle of Vat 69 I’m still not sure how you got your hands on.”

“Ohhhh yeah!” Ev grinned. “Wait! You knew from then?”

“I did…”

“He’s your guy for this stuff isn’t he…” 

“Isn’t Doug yours?” Rosie replied. 

“I’m Doug’s,” Ev laughed. “You want good advice, come to me. You want someone to tell you it’s okay to bring a donkey home from Africa, you go to Doug.”

“I will, uh, remember that.” Rosie laughed. 

He couldn’t change any of this, and his decision would be something he’d live with for the rest of his life, but support made it easier. Jo had support at home. She had her parents, and his Ma, Jean Crosby and now Juliet and Vika upstate. Rosie had Croz, and though Ev Blakely had always been a friend, he realized this was the first time the two of them had gotten deep and shared the realities of war together. He had envied the man for months that Val was here with him, not realizing just how hard it had been for the woman to watch him fly off and potentially never come back. How rough it was on him to leave her on the ground time after time. To have pulled her through the aftermath of the Africa mission, while his crew had simply stood down and been meant to watch it all unfold. 

These were the realities of this war. You missed people, you lost people, you made mistakes and you learned lessons. But, you also made friends, and sometimes if you were lucky those friends became your family. Rosie hadn’t realized it at first, but his family was growing both back home, and here at Thorpe Abbotts, and it all came down  to one person.

My dearest Jo…

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

Tag List: @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @precious-little-scoundrel @beingalive1

[nighthunter241]

He is Mine-Chapter 1 (Henry Cavill x male reader)

Masterlist

NOT MY GIF, GIF USED FROM TUMBLR OPTION 18+ DNI if  you are lower the age of 18

Rival #1 Amy Adams

Monday

You wake up to the alarm and start getting ready for school. The weekend left you with an aneurysm having to decide how you're going to break up the friendship of Henry and Amy. Maybe you can just see what they do and hopefully something comes to mind. While heading downstairs you see your brothers just starting to eat breakfast. A part of you wants to tell them about your chat with Robert and your feelings for Henry but would that even help. “Morning” you said to your brothers, they say morning back while eating their breakfast and while eating you notice your parents aren’t up yet. “Hey and what about Mom and Dad, why aren’t they awake yet?” you asked and brother Sebastian responded “Not sure, I think I heard them last night talking about taking the day off for something important, something about someone named Saldana, or maybe they just wanted to sleep in”. You shrug it off and leave home with your brothers. You manage to make it to the corner that you usually meet up with Henry, you stay back and your brothers continue the walk to school. After a long time Henry finally shows up later than usual. “Hey what happened, you overslept or something” you asked. “I forgot to set my alarm so I quickly showered and ran,” Henry responded. We start speed walking to school and Henry starts talking about how Amy is going to give him shit again for making her wait at the entrance of school. “Why don’t you just tell her to fuck off” by the time you realized what Iyou just said you couldn’t take it back. Henry looked at you funny and said “I think I’ll say that in a sweeter way, you alright you’re acting kinda weird”. You tell him you are fine and you just woke up on the wrong side of  the bed and he shrugs it off. By the time you two make it to school Henry tells you he will meet up in the homeroom and runs off to meet up with Amy.

While Henry is out of sight you follow him to the spot where he meets up with Amy to hear their conversation and hopefully find something out. M/R manage to find a bush at a safe distance where they can’t see him and where he can still hear them. Amy: Ugh really again, you can’t keep me waiting like this, does this look like we are middle school.

Henry: I’m sorry Amy I forgot to set my alarm.

Amy: Well if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t even wake up, I can’t be your clock 24/7 it gets annoying especially when waiting for you.

Henry: I’m sorry, if it bothers you that much then we can just stop meeting up here before class so then you don’t have to worry about being late.

Amy: That's not what I meant…..forget alright just forget it. Since we only got a couple of minutes I need you to meet me at the fountain during lunch period.

Henry: Ummmm, Why exactly?

Amy: Just meet me there alright, don’t keep waiting like you did today, got it!

Henry: Ok, Ok, relax I’ll meet you at the fountain during lunch period.

Amy: Good.

They finish talking and they start heading to the inside of the building, Henry goes one direction while Amy goes to the homeroom. You follow her and end up seeing her set down a container, and hear her mutter “I did my best, he is going to like it, just give it to him and that's it and he will enjoy it”. She walks away and when you get closer to the container and notice it was a lunch box, she actually made Henry lunch. She is taking “ a way to a man's heart is through his stomach” a little too seriously. THAT'S IT, you thought to yourself all you need to do is get rid of this lunch, wait no you should make her food taste bad so Henry could think she is a terrible cook. So you quickly leave and try to think of a way to make her food taste nasty. You pass by the nurses office and notice the medicine cabinet and quickly think of a plan.

You see your brother and run to Anthony and pull him aside from his friends and to ask him something.

Anthony: Alright, what do you want?

M/N: I need you to distract the nurse.

Anthony: Um, no, why would I do that?

M/N: I need to grab something from her cabinet while she isn’t looking.

Anthony: Why don’t you just ask her for it?

M/N: What I need to grab is something she would usually give out for emergencies.

Anthony: That just makes this weirder, what do you need from her cabinet that she won’t be able to give to you if you ask?

M/N: None of your business just help me.

Anthony: Tell me what it is and why and I’ll help.

M/N: Um…..no way

Anthony: Well, no help from me.

M/N: Quit being such a jackass and help your brother out.

Anthony: Fine, but you owe me one day you are going to tell me why you needed me to do this.

Anthony goes to the nurse pretending he has a headache and asks for something for it. You see the nurse walk up to the cabinet, unlock it and pass him the medicine with a glass of water. While she was doing that you got to the cabinet and took a bottle while she wasn’t looking. You leave and go back to her homeroom, while on your way I run into a student council member who gives a questioning look and stares while you are slowly walking away from them. “The student council members are a bunch of weirdos,” you whisper to myself. Now at Amy's homeroom and to her desk and open up the lunch box. It looks like she made some homemade soup with chunks of meat in it. Henry did always love meat, and can't live without it. You take out the bottle from the pocket that says Emetic on the label and you pour it into the lunch box. “If I am correct, Emetic medicine should make someone throw up and give out a strong taste, hopefully this will be enough”. You turn around to leave and see your brother Sebastian standing there looking at you, crap you ended up forgetting this was his homeroom also.

Sebastian: What the hell are you doing?

M/R: Nothing just looking around, stretching my legs.

Sebastian: So are you going to act like you just didn’t pour something into that lunch box

M/R: I have no idea what you are talking about.

Before you could react Sebastian quickly yanks the bottle of Emetic medicine from your hand.

Sebastian: How the hell did you get this and why did you pour this into Amy’s food?

 M/R: None of your business just shut up.

The bell rings and people start heading to their homeroom.

Sebastian: When we get home we are talking about this and I’m letting mom and dad know

M/R: You’re so mature aren’t you, snitch.

He punches your arm while you walk out of his homeroom and make it to your own homeroom and sit next to Henry who seems quieter than usual. Hours pass of usual classes and the lunch bell rings. You run to the fountain area and pretend to eat your lunch there and see Henry waiting for Amy until she shows up with the same lunch box in hand.

Henry: Alright, I am here. What is the reason you needed to meet me here?

Amy: Well here it's because of this.

Henry: A box?

Amy: It's a lunch box STUPID!

Henry: Wait, you made me lunch?

Amy: NO!!, just made some food for my sister and she forgot it and I didn’t want to waste it so I thought I should bring it to you.

Henry: Wow thank you, I’ll gladly eat it.

Amy: Yeah whatever, enjoy.

You cross your fingers while seeing Henry start tasting the soup. After a couple of spoonfuls his face of gratitude turned to a face of disgust.

Henry: Amy, what did you put in this?

Amy: I don’t know, I made it last night so I don’t remember the ingredients.

Henry: It tastes weird, I’m sorry I…..can’t finish this.

Amy: HENRY WAIT!

Henry runs off to the bathroom and Amy is left with a sad expression, You follow him to the bathroom and end up hearing him throwing up. After he finishes he sees you and gets startled.

Henry: M/R you scared me, what are you doing here?

M/R:I saw you run into the bathroom in a hurry, I got worried.

Henry: I’m fine just Amy gave me some food and it didn’t sit right 

He goes towards the sink to wash his hands and mouth

M/R: Is she usually a bad cook?

Henry: She doesn’t cook much but the times she had it didn’t taste good but not bad to the point where I’m throwing up.

M/R: Maybe she did it on purpose.

Henry: Why would you think that M/R

M/R: Well you would say she always gives you shit for being late to meet up, maybe as a way to get back at you she made you sick.

Henry: That's a stretch mate

M/R: Maybe, but you never know, her thinking since you are best friends she thinks she could do it and knows you will easily forgive her.

Henry: I don’t easily forgive her.

M/R: Henry, you tell me she yells at you and sometimes insults you for small things, and you still talk to her

Henry: That's because we are best friends.

M/R: Are best friends really like that, I’m not like that with you and we are close.

Henry stares at me as if he is about to say something but seems to hold it in.

Henry: Can we just drop it, I need to possibly lay down at the nurses office.

M/R: Yeah, not a problem see you later.

Henry and M/R leave the bathroom and later meet each other in their last class of the day, Henry not bringing up what happened during lunch or what was discussed in the bathroom. You grab your bag and head towards the gate of the school and walk home. When you make it home your brothers are there earlier before you for some reason. You say hello to them and they pass you a note they found on the table.

Dear kids,

Your father and I had to leave town for a bit for a quick emergency, don’t worry it is nothing serious and hopefully we will see each other soon. Now we added money to all of your bank accounts and hopefully it is enough to last until we come back. If you need more just call us and we will send more, but we will be looking at the bank statements to make sure you aren’t spending it for the wrong things. Now you know the rules when you are home alone and most importantly DON’T GO INTO THE BASEMENT, REMEMBER THAT. Love you and hopefully see you soon.Love,Mom and Dad

“What the hell” you said after reading the note, my brothers looked at you with the same expression. “All I see is home alone to do whatever I want without mom and dad here” Anthony said. “Definitely going to invite Sarah over,” said Sebastion. “Yeah no, you know the rules, you really want to wait and find out if mom knows you broke the rules” you reminded them. They looked at each other and understood, moms wrath can be the scariest thing in the world. After ordering pizza and getting ready for bed, you get a text from Henry.

Henry: Hey sorry about the way I was acting today didn’t mean to make you feel weird.

M/R: Hey it’s fine no need to apologize to me Henry.

Henry: Just wanted to do it anyway you know I don’t like when things are weird between us. Besides Amy you're the only person I can truly talk to and be comfortable with.

M/R: I feel the same way Henry.

You see the three dots pop up on the message but after awhile it disappears and then appears again

Henry: Well see you tomorrow have a good night.

M/R: Good night

You are about to turn off your phone until you receive another message but this time from Amy, “Did Sebastian tell her what I did?” you asked yourself.

Amy: Hey M/R I need to ask you about something.

M/R: Yeah what's up.

Amy: How was Henry today?

M/R: He seemed alright, a bit spaced out but that's it.

Amy: Oh god, I messed up today, I made him lunch and I guess the ingredients I used went bad cause he ended up throwing it up.

M/R: Wow thats crazy, food does spoil and random times

Amy: We talked on the phone and he accepted my apology but said that I shouldn’t cook for him for a while.

M/R:  I mean you probably gave him PTSD 😂

Amy: Not funny

M/R: Sorry just trying the lighten the mood

Amy: Well thanks for letting me know how he was, but I think I found a way to make things up

M/R: ???

Amy: I bought him a present and I am going to give it him in the morning and have him open it during lunch time tomorrow, hope he loves it

M/R: That sounds great I’m sure he will

Amy: Thanks M/R for the confidence, well good night and see you in AP CALC tomorrow

M/R: Night

You send the last text and turn off the phone, before you could get to bed your nosey brothers walk in without knocking. 

Sebastian: So we are going to talk about today

Anthony: Sebastian told what you did with the Emetic medicine, I can’t believe I helped you steal that just to poison some food

M/R: I didn’t poison anyone, just gave someone a little stomach ache.

Sebastian: What is going on with you cause a week ago you were acting mad weird.

M/R: Nothing is going on.

Sebastian: Liar

Anthony: M/R talk to us come on you know you can count on us

M/R: UGH FINE, but you can’t judge me, I did it to mess with Amy and Henry

Sebastian: Why, aren’t you friends with Henry?

Anthony: Let him finish.

M/R: Amy likes Henry and I like Henry and she is planning to confess to him this friday and I have to stop it but I’m still to much of a wuss to confess my own feelings first, so I’m…….sabotaging their…..friendship to make sure he says no to her confession.

Sebastian: ????

Anthony: ????

M/R: *You look nervous while staring at them*

Sebastian: That's it?

M/R: What do you mean that's it.

Anthony: So you have a crush on Henry and you are just stopping someone from becoming their possible girlfriend. 

M/R: Um….yes, I know it sounds crazy

Anthony: That's not crazy.

M/R: Wait what?

Sebastian:  Yeah bro, we have done that already, how do you think I got Sarah, I didn’t get lucky.

Anthony: And my past relationships you think they were just magically single.

M/R: Wait, you guys have done stuff to get your crushes.

Sebastian: Yeah mom taught us, don’t you remember.

M/R: I mean I barely remember what she taught us.

Anthony: Relax it's nothing really important but don’t worry you're not crazy for doing this.

M/R: I still can’t believe you guys have done this before.

Sebastian: Relax, if you need any more suggestions just ask us, we would love to help.

Anthony: Yeah, you and Henry seem cute together anyway

You blush at your brother's comment and they end up leaving your room, you finally get to lay down alone with your thoughts. What are mom and dad doing, what can you do to sabotage that gift, you can just steal it or you can just replace it with something more offensive to get Henry disgusted at her. That sounds better just need to figure out what, you fall asleep thinking of a possible gift replacement that would shock Henry

Tuesday

The sound of the annoying alarm wakes you up and you get ready for the shower. Of course both showers are being hogged by your brothers. After an eternity you manage to shower and get ready for school, you go downstairs expecting your parents but remember the letter from yesterday. You sit down and also remember the chat with your brothers and decide to ask them for help.

M/N: Hey I need help with something.

Anthony: Yeah, what is it?

M/N: Amy is going to give Henry a gift as way to make amends from yesterday's incident

Sebastian: That you caused.

M/N: Shut up, any way I my idea was to replace the gift with something offensive that would disgust Henry, got any ideas

Sebastian: Why not just steal it?

M/N: Stealing it would just not do anything, no feelings are hurt just a lost gift and he would just move on

Anthony: Got any ideas on what you want to replace it with.

Sebastian:  Of course he doesn’t, that is why he is asking.

Anthony: Is Henry sexually active?

Sebastian: Dude really?

M/N: That I know of, no he isn’t, not the type to hit and go.

Anthony: Well there's your solution.

Anthony leaves and goes upstairs to his room and comes back down stairs and passes you an item.

M/N: A CONDOM!!!

Anthony: Yeah, as the gift.

M/N: Why would I do that?

Anthony: Well it will make him uncomfortable with what he receives and feel awkward about it with Amy.

Sebastian: What if he likes it and takes it as a suggestion from Amy?

M/N: Doubt that, if your best friend gave a condom as a gift you would be confused or uncomfortable.

Anthony: Well, that's the end of it just swap the gift with the condom and see Henry's reaction

Sebastian: Weird way to sabotage something but whatever not my crush.

You hide the condom in your wallet and leave the house with your brothers, while walking you receive a text from Henry saying he won’t be able to meet up before homeroom so you keep walking with your brothers. When you make it to school you say goodbye to your brothers and run off the same bush that you hid in yesterday. Of course you see Henry waiting for Amy and when she shows up they start chatting.

Henry: Well I’m here early

Amy: About tim….I mean thank you.

Henry: You said you wanted to discuss something

Amy: Well actually I wanted to give you this.

She takes out her bag a box with a blue ribbon on it.

Henry: A gift for me?

Amy: Yes, I want you to open it during lunch time and you can tell me how much you like it and at the end of the day.

Henry: Alright, thank you so much Amy.

Amy: Your….welcome hopefully you like it

You could swear that you see Amy blushing which starts making your blood boil for a moment but you quickly calm down. After they leave you head to your homeroom and thankfully Henry sets the present down on his desk and leaves to go do something. You notice the classroom is empty so you take advantage of the moment and head towards the present and you open it. The present reveals a video game specifically World of Warcraft, she got Henry the game he was saving up for. A present like this would definitely cause him to fully forgive Amy, you take out the game and stuff it into your bag and you take out the condom from your wallet and put it in the present and manage to make it look like it hasn’t been touched. After swapping, M/N leaves the class and pretends to be walking around school and acting casual. You see your brothers who end up asking if you did the deed and you tell them you did and they just smirk but before they can say anything else the bell rings. You run to your homeroom and sit next to Henry who seems to be staring at the present in excitement. Class begins and before you know it the lunch bell goes off and you go to find Henry. You see him with his lunch and the present in hand, you walk up to him to start a conversation.

M/N: Hey Henry, what did you bring for lunch?

Henry: A classic burger, my mother made it for me so I'm going to enjoy it, and what about you?

M/N: Just a sandwich, can’t really bring takeout to school.

Henry: Why would you bring takeout to school, doesn’t your mum usually make lunch for you and your brothers.

M/N: Well, yeah it's just that my parents are currently….on a trip or something.

Henry: What do you mean?

M/N: We got this note saying they needed to leave for some emergency but to not worry about it, and since I am the only one that can cook I need to provide food for my siblings but don’t really want to cook for them so we are just planning to order takeout till our parents return.

Henry: They are missing out, your cooking is amazing.

M/N: Thanks Henry, by the way what's up with the gift, been meaning to ask you that during homeroom?

Henry: Oh, Amy gave it to me as a gift for getting me sick yesterday.

M/N: Really, I wonder what she got you?

Henry: I don’t know, hey open it for me while I eat.

M/N: Um, sure I’ll open it for you.

You open up the gift and pretend to be confused and shocked

Henry:  What is it?

M/N: Well, it’s very……well…….

Henry: Just give it.

Henry sets his burger down and grabs the gift and looks inside, and his face changes from anticipation to confusion and disgust.

M/N: Henry?

Henry: I…..what……what the hell is this?

M/N: Looks like a condom.

Henry: I KNOW what it is, but why the hell is this as a gift.

M/N: Maybe as a joke.

Henry: Well I’m not laughing, I can’t believe she would get me excited about a gift and do this.

M/N: What are you going to do?

Henry: I’m just going to let her know that I didn’t like the gift and leave it at that.

You guys finish your lunch in an awkward silence and end up leaving each other to go to your last few classes. But before you enter your classroom you see Henry having a chat with Amy and clearly you have to go listen.

Amy: So, how was the gift?

Henry: Amy, don't ever bother giving me a gift like that ever again.

Amy: Wait, you didn't like it?

Henry: No, of course not, just leave the gift giving for christmas and birthdays.

With that Henry leaves Amy and heads to his classroom leaving Amy with a confused expression. You decide to enter your classroom and a couple minutes later you see Amy walk in clearly sad as you see her sit down. The weird part is you sadly feel bad but the moment you remember about her crush on Henry those feelings go away instantly, then you think of a way to make yourself the hero of the day.  After class you notice Henry is going to walk home alone, so you go up to and ask him if you guys could walk together and he quickly says yes. After reaching the corner that causes you two to walk in the opposite direction you two stand for a bit and chat and decide now is the perfect opportunity.

M/N: Henry how are you feeling after you know?

Henry: A bit ok but really just a bit bother that Amy would give me that as a present.

M/N: Well, I was actually going to wait till graduation but since these two days have been unlucky I might as well give it to you now.

Henry: Give me what exactly?

You take out your bag the World of Warcraft game that you took out of Amy's present and pass it to him.

M/N: For you, early graduation present, from me.

Henry: M/N…..I….thank you this is amazing I've been saving up for a bit for this game. This means a lot to me M/N thank you again.

M/N: No need to thank me.

Henry: Wait, if it was going to be a graduation present why did you already have it in your bag.

M/N: Well….. I was going to wrap it in the sewing club but they didn’t really have wrapping paper so I was planning to just buy wrapping paper but now I don’t need to.

Henry: Ah, alright that makes sense but thank you so much this means a lot from you.

Henry hugs you tight and you hug him back and notice that your hug lasts a little longer than usual but he eventually lets go. You say our goodbyes and you see Henry walking with a smile on his face, the same smile that attracted you to him. You walk the rest home and see your brothers at the front waiting and straight to point start throwing questions at you.

Anthony: So lover boy did it work?

M/N: Yes it did work, thank you for the help.

Anthony: Well you are welcome

Sebastian: So are you still going to sabotage them or you think Henry is going to still say yes to the confession?

M/N: Not really sure, better be safe than sorry so might as well still keep an eye out

Anthony: Let's order some burgers as a celebration for a good job on sabotage I guess

Sebastian: Lets get like five each with large fries each.

After having a fulfilling dinner you and your brothers spend the rest of the night playing video games and getting homework done. By time you are ready to go to bed you receive a text message, expecting it to be Henry you see it is from Robert.

Robert: Looks like someone has been busy these last two days, funny how a friendship can start crumbling so easily.

M/N: Is it really that interesting?

Robert: Yes it is, seeing the events unfold is quite entertaining to say the least.

M/N: Do you have things for girls about to get their heart broken or something.

Robert: Not really, think of me as your cupid.

M/N: Yeah hell no.

Robert: Fine, just here to help remember that. 

M/N:  Thanks but for now I think I’m good.

Robert: Alright whatever you say just remember let me know when you need help cause I can be a good ally.

Wednesday

After waking up and eating breakfast you meet up with Henry usually and walk to school then leaves to meet up with Amy to chat. You still don’t know how he is able to still talk to her but you called it, they are still friends. This time it looks like Amy was waiting for a while and she seems excited.

Amy: Finally you’re here

Henry: Yeah I’m here you texted me saying you wanted to meet.

Amy: I have reservations at a restaurant after school, so you're coming along with me.

Henry: Wait, like a date or something??

Amy: WHAT NO, I was going to go with some of my classmates but they canceled so I don’t want the reservation to go to waste.

Henry: Well sure, I would love to go.

Amy: Alright meet me after school and don’t be late.

You see them walk away and you start there is no way you can sabotage that date without getting caught in the restaurant. Nothing comes to mind, maybe you can try to get the reservation canceled, no it wouldn’t work cause most likely sent her an alert that it got canceled. Maybe just hang around Amy today and hopefully you can think of something. After finding Amy sitting in her homeroom alone you decide to walk in and say hello.

M/N: Hey Amy

Amy: Hey M/N how are you doing?

M/N: Great, excited for that AP CALC test today.

Amy: Yeah I…am

As she says this she lets out a big yawn which startles you at first.

M/N: Everything alright?

Amy: Yeah just that I didn’t get much sleep last night since I was studying and I have a date later at this restaurant and now that I am thinking about it could be a bad idea I might fall asleep.

M/N: You have a date, with who?

Amy: Can’t say keeping a secret for now M/N don’t worry one day you will find out.

M/N: Alright why don’t just cancel and let this date know that you are tired.

Amy: Took a while to get this reservation and I really wanted this date for a while.

M/N: Wow, he must be a great guy.

Amy: Yeah, he is.

M/N: Well I don’t know, go take a nap or something or drink coffee.

Amy: Wait, that is a good idea

M/N: What the coffee?

Amy: No, the nap I’ll take a 30 minute nap at the rooftop before I meet with Hen….my date.

M/N: I….yeah go with that I’m sure that will help you stay awake.

Amy: I don’t know why M/N but lately you have been really helpful with giving me solutions.

M/N: Well miracle worker here I guess

Amy giggles a bit and you say your goodbyes, she is going to take a nap after school at the rooftop alone, with no one around. You start having solutions but dark ones and you instantly ignore them and try to think of another solution. Hours pass with you struggling trying to figure out how to stop Amy and Henry from meeting after school. Until the time comes for Amy to take her nap you quickly find a place behind the wall and see her get to bench on the roof. She takes out her phone and starts talking to herself. “I’ll just set an alarm for 30 minutes and that should do it”, she lays down and you can tell she fell asleep due to her snoring. You see her phone without thinking, you tiptoe to her and grab her phone. You try to turn off the alarm but she has a pin, but you manage to fully turn off the phone and you place it back next to her. You tiptoe away and head to your locker. After 50 minutes Henry is still standing outside waiting for Amy until you hear him start muttering. “Where the hell is she, and I’m the late one screw this restaurant I’m going home”. 

You see him start walking away and you call this a success but you wait for a couple more minutes then you start walking towards home. When you get home your brothers are setting their shoes and going upstairs you are about to do the same until you get a phone call, you check and it's from your mom.

M/N: Mom?

Mom: Hey M/N just calling in to check in on you guys

M/N: We are fine, just that Anthony for some reason is running out of money already and is about to start using my card.

Mom: I’m sure that is because you've been ordering take out and other junk.

M/N: Maybe??

Mom: I’ll send more money from our cards but that is it,if you guys need money you need to get yourself a part-time job

M/N: Why a job, and why include me. I'm busy.

Mom: Really, busy doing what exactly.

M/N: I mean AP CALC can be a pain

Mom: Mhm yeah right, you've been getting straight A’s since middle school so I don’t buy it. The recommendation isn’t a punishment, it can do you guys some good especially for you, it can keep you from doing something ... .extreme.

M/N: What do you….fine I’ll think about it.

Mom: Good

M/N: Anyway Mom why did you and dad leave us here, what's going on

Mom: I’m sorry, just that something came up, something in our way and your father and I need to take care of it.

M/N: Is it that Saldana person, my brother said he heard you guys talking about someone with that name.

Mom: DON’T get involved M/N, it is a story too complicated

M/N: Someday you have to tell us about it.

Mom: One day I will, and don’t worry it isn’t boring like your fathers stories.

Thursday

The alarm sounds from your clock and you realize again that today is Thursday, if everything keeps going your way, hopefully tomorrow Henry will reject Amy's confession. You shower, dry yourself off and put your school uniform on. While going downstairs your brother Anthony throws you his phone, you grab it and take a look at it. It was a post made by Amy and it was a photo of her at home and she had a bowl of ice cream with her, and based on her face it looks like she has been crying. While looking at this phone your brothers start smirking, “Alright thanks for the update but I’m sure she probably called Henry and he probably forgave her like always”. You grab your things and leave without letting your brothers say anything else. At the corner where you meet you wait for him but he doesn’t show up, a second later your phone dings and you check it and it is a text from Henry saying he won’t meet up today saying he is currently not feeling well. You had a gut feeling that you should run to school so once you got to your usual hiding spot you barely made it on time to listen to Henry and Amy discussion and based on Henry's face he did not want to be there.

Amy: Hey Henry, you wanted to meet up earlier than usual why?

Henry: Do you still have the book I lent you a couple of days ago?

Amy: Yeah I do, I’m almost done with can you let me have it for the rest of the day,I was planning to read the rest at the fountain after that I’ll give it to you at the end of the day.

Henry: Fine, just make sure to not damage it, it was a gift from M/N.

Amy: Alright don’t worry.

Henry leaves without saying another word and Amy follows until they separate for their classes. You didn’t even need to think twice, you instantly knew what you had to do, steal that book or destroy it. You head to class and decide to talk to Henry and possibly see if your sabotage is actually working. Henry sees you walk in and waves and starts talking to you.

Henry: M/N sorry about this morning, I needed to meet with Amy cause I asked her to give something she borrowed back to me.

M/N: Did she give it back?

Henry: No, she said she will give it to me after school, just hope she keeps her word.

M/N: Everything alright?

Henry: Just lately Amy has just not been good lately, I don’t know but seems like she really is showing her true colors and I am not liking it.

M/N: That is too bad, but hey you have that new game to distract you.

Henry: Yeah, you’re right just hope everything returns back to normal.

When the lunch bell rings you go to the school fountain and sit down on a random bench until finally you see Amy show up with the book. You see her reading it and what feels like forever you see another student go up to her and ask her for something. She gets up and stupidly leaves the book on the fountain. You slowly walk to the fountain and double check to see if anyone can see you, after you check that no one will see, you drop the book into the fountain then leave. After another minute you see Amy come back and when she notices the book fell in the fountain she freaked out and started panicking and she quickly ran. You don’t bother following her and just eat your lunch and not care. The day goes by quickly and when after school comes around you are pretending to be packing and from a earshot you hear Henry and Amy.

Henry: Do you have the book with you?

Amy: Henry, I’m sorry the book fell in the fountain somehow and I couldn’t fix it.

Henry yanks the book away from Amy's hand

Henry: But, how did this happen!?

Amy: I don’t know, I set it down left for a bit and it must of fell in when I got up.

Henry: HOW COULD YOU!, M/N gave this to me. It was special to me.

Amy: Henry I’m sorry

Henry: Amy just, I’ll see you tomorrow bye.

Amy: Henry, wait.

Henry walks not even bothering to listen anymore he seemed more sad than mad, you walk home feeling accomplished and proud and when you settle at home you end up going to bed feeling nothing but joy.

Friday

Today is the day, if your hard work paid off Henry will say no to Amy's confession hopefully. After getting dressed you walk downstairs and see a well cooked  breakfast served on the dinner table.

Anthony: Morning M/N, as a way to celebrate you succeeding in breaking up that friendship, enjoy having a full breakfast meal.

M/N: First, I’m not even sure if it's going to work and….

Anthony: Don’t even think like that, it is clearly working since even we can feel the tension between Henry and Amy and not the good type

Sebastian: You kidding, the tension couldn’t even be cut with a knife, that's how intense it is. Trust me whatever you are doing is working.

M/N: Does that mean should I even bother trying to do something today to mess it up also.

Anthony: I say still do something, just to overall seal the deal for today.

You eat the breakfast your brothers made you and head out to school with them, they leave you at the usual corner and you wait for Henry until he shows up. When Henry finally makes it you both start chatting for a bit.

M/N: Wait Amy damaged what?

Henry: She damaged the book you gave me as a gift, I can’t believe she would be so careless.

M/N: What makes you think she was careless?

Henry: I don’t know, I always had a feeling that she was jealous of our friendship, which I don’t understand because she is my childhood friend not you. You're my good friend but she just…GAHHH.

M/N: She really has been getting on your nerves lately,

Henry: She has been, I’m running out of patience with her. M/N she just…..

M/N: She just what?

Henry: She isn’t like you, I feel like you're more of a childhood friend to me than she is to me.

You stay looking at each other for a moment in silence but that silence is broken when Henry's phone dings, he checks it and receives a message from Amy asking help on a homework assignment.

M/N: So you're going to help her?

Henry: I don’t feel like sitting down and chatting with her so I’m just going to let her copy it.

M/N: Really?

Henry: Yeah, at least I won’t be chatting with her because right now I need a little break from her.

M/N: Alright, do what you think is best.

Henry sends her a message saying that he will leave it on top of her desk and to give it to him later. Henry and you head to your lockers and Henry leaves to go give Amy the assignment. You follow behind and once you see him give Amy the assignment you thought of a plan. Amy before she starts copying heads to what seems like the bathroom and leaves Henry homework in her bag. After she leaves you see the classroom is empty so you walk in and dig in her bag and find Henry's homework. Once you found it you stuffed it in your bag and left the room not bothering to see her reaction. You head to class like usual and wait out the time then hours later around after school Henry walks up to you.

Henry: SHE LOST IT!

M/N: Henry calm down, what's wrong?

Henry: Amy lost my homework assignment I let her borrow, so I got freaking zero on that assignment and my grade dropped a whole letter.

M/N: Henry calm down, breathe in.

Henry: That was the last graded assignment for that class, everything else would be quizzes and exams so now I am going to have to study my butt off to bring my grade up if I want to possibly earn full rides to universities.

M/N: I know Henry, just relax everything will be alright it's Friday so use this weekend to just forget about this horrible day.

Henry: More like a horrible week, but thank you’re right I need to relax and just deal with the reality on Monday.

M/N: Where is Amy?

Henry: Don’t know haven’t seen her since class time I think I may just walk home without her, going to try to use this weekend to just not remember anything bad that happen this week so don’t feel if I ignore your calls

M/N: You can use the weekend to play that game all day and night.

Henry chuckles and asks you to meet him by the gate so you do, from a distance you see Henry at his locker but notice he takes out a note. You run up to him and ask him what the letter is about, apparently it is from Amy asking him to meet him at the rose garden, Henry looks at you and just ends up going. You give Henry some time to give some distance then you decide to follow and go to the rose garden. Once you make it to the rose garden you hide behind another bush and you see Amy come out from behind a tree and step in front of Henry and she starts talking.

Henry: Amy?

Amy: I’m….glad you came.

Henry: What is this about?

Amy: Just needed to have you meet me here, because I feel some sort of confidence.

Henry: Confidence about what?

Amy: Well, the reason why my relationships never worked was because I felt like it was never with the right person.

Henry: What made you think that?

Amy: Every time I was with someone I kept thinking about another person.

Henry: Who?

Amy: Just listen alright, I…..LIKE YOU, I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU AND I BELIEVE YOU AND ME CAN BE SOMETHING SPECIAL.

Henry: Amy honestly, I’m sorry but I don’t think we can be something special.

Amy: What…..is it because of what has been happening this week, it was just one shitty week that's all just….

Henry: Amy don’t, it's not just that it is way more than that.

Amy: I can be nicer, neater, believe me I can……..

Henry: Just stop, it just won’t work, this won’t happen, goodbye.

Amy: Henry please wait.

Amy starts crying while Henry turns his back around and leaves her alone in the rose garden, while you in a distance start feeling joyful and start laughing a bit knowing you had succeeded. You leave school and run home to tell your brother the good news.

Saturday

Henry's POV

Henry goes into a park to clear his mind after yesterday and sits on a bench feeling sad, until someone passes by

??: Oh, hi is everything alright?

Henry: Um, I’m sorry, Gal right?

Gal Gadot: Yeah, we are assigned to that school project

Henry: Oh I remembered

Gal Gadot: Is everything alright, what has got you feeling down.

Henry: I don’t want to trouble you.

Gal Gadot: It is no trouble at all.

Henry: Well, I have a childhood friend named Amy, recently we just have not been getting along and I believed I may have feelings for her but this week our friendship kept getting tested and it was struggling. So, when she confessed her feelings I couldn’t say yes because it felt like her true colors were showing. I feel bad for rejecting her and ruining our friendship but I didn’t want to accept her feelings out of pity and now I don’t know if I did the right thing.

Gal Gadot: Don’t you know what's his name, M/N haven’t you discussed it with me.

Henry: I was going to, but can’t bring myself to throw my problems on top of him. He is someone I can count on but I don't want him to worry about me about something so dumb.

Gal Gadot: I’m sorry to hear that, maybe a walk in the park will help clear your head instead of just sitting and feeling sorry.

Henry: Maybe you’re right, a walk can do some good.

Gal Gadot: I’ll join you.

While Henry and Gal walk around the park they don’t notice someone taking photos of them and following them.

Sunday

M/N POV

You are getting ready for bed and you suddenly get a text message from Robert.

Robert: Well I will say I didn’t expect you to get rid of Amy that way but it works

M/N: Why do you seem disappointed, expecting me to go crazy?

Robert: Mostly surprised but not really sending you a message for just a normal chat

M/N: Why did you text me?

Robert: *Attached images of Henry and Gal walking in the park standing real close*

M/N: WHO IS she?

Robert: Her name is Gal Gadot, she is Henry's partner in a school project, seems to be catching his attention and Henry seems to be catching her attention.

M/N: Why warn me about this again, what is your game?

Robert: No game just like I said good karma.

M/N: Good karma?

Robert: Doesn’t matter, it looks like she is planning to confess on Friday also, so I will think of something fast or you may lose Henry to another girl.

M/N: I can’t lose him when he is mine already.

[aperrywilliams]

Don't Go to See Her (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: After the team saved Austin, the signs point that she and Spencer are romantically involved. Reader is not amused by the idea. Are her suspicions correct?

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Some curse words (maybe more than usual, I don't know). Sleeping together is mentioned but not described. Spoilers for 4x9. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: I wrote this one based on this request. Tell me what you think!

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

Founding Robert Parker's location wasn't as difficult as we thought. But we needed to be faster: the clock was ticking, and a girl's life was on the line.

Arriving at the house, we split into two groups—Morgan, Hotch, and Reid leading the first one. With Prentiss and Rossi, we stayed behind.

It was odd, though. I know Spencer doesn't like the takedowns that much, but this time he insisted on going with Morgan in the advanced group.

The commotion lasted a few seconds until Morgan assured us he had got Parker and the girl was safe. As Rossi and Prentiss entered the house to check, I saw Spencer with the girl coming out. As expected, she looked shocked but physically fine. I approached to assist them.

The poor thing was shaking and kept muttering, "I called you, I called you," which seemed strange to me, but Spencer only nodded, saying, "I know, you did very good; now you're safe."

That got my attention, but I didn't give it much thought; it could be the adrenaline of the moment affecting the girl, and Reid was just playing along.

We returned to the precinct with the unsub in custody. After Hotch interrogated him getting a full confession, we needed to finish the paperwork before going home. I couldn't help but notice Spencer wasn't there, though. What happened to him? When I saw Morgan, I asked him.

"Maybe he's with his girlfriend," he pointed, chuckling.

Spencer? Girlfriend? What did I miss?

"His what? Who?" I asked, confused.

"The girl we saved. She's a bartender. Did you know Reid charmed her the other night in the club she works? That's why she had his number and called him when she saw the unsub," Morgan recounted.

I was taken aback. I didn't know that. It made sense, though: that's why Spencer was so adamant about going first into the house. How did I not notice sooner?

"Oh. I didn't know," I mumbled.

"Yeah, it seems pretty boy got game," Morgan teased. "Do you need him for something?" He asked.

"No. Not really. Just curious. Uh - thanks, Morgan," I hastened to say before moving quickly to the precinct's kitchen.

I didn't want Derek to see me… freaking out.

Now, why should I?

Well, maybe because I have been developing a massive crush on Spencer in the past years? And maybe thinking of him with another girl was the fear I wasn't ready to face? Not yet, at least.

Okay, I know it sounds selfish, but either way, I can't bring myself to make a move on him. And I think I will never do it. That would mean ruining our friendship, and keeping Spencer as my friend is more important than this stupid crush.

It has to be.

But it didn't help that Hotch sent us to the hotel for the night, and I couldn't see Spencer in the lobby with Morgan or any team member.

He wasn't there.

Once in my room, I tried to calm down and not overthink the situation. What if they only were talking and hanging out? Maybe in a friendly manner. Nothing to worry about, right?

Or a lot to worry about.

The next morning we were all in the jet, ready to fly back home—all but Spencer.

"Where is Reid?" Hotch asked. As a cue, Spencer rushed in, mumbling apologies for being late.

He sat by my side. It wasn't uncommon for Spencer to do that. When I joined the team two years ago, I started sitting by his side. He didn't complain, and even he found in me someone who didn't bother his rambling, quite the opposite: someone who fueled his habit with delight.

What can I say? I have always felt comfortable around Spencer. We are still the youngest team members, and the flights have been more fun with us talking or just reading next to each other.

This time, Morgan and Rossi were in front of us.

"How was your night, Romeo? I didn't hear you when you came back," Morgan teased. Spencer's face flushed red as he briefly looked at me.

Oh, God. My mind ran wild, and I didn't like what I imagined. I turned my face to the window to not return my gaze to him.

"Leave the kid alone," Rossi told Morgan, maybe because he wanted to spare him the mortification of telling details of his night.

His night with the girl I was jealous of right now.

After Rossi's warning, Morgan dropped the topic and stood to get comfortable on the couch so he could sleep. David did the same but took a seat at the back of the plane. I didn't dare to look at Spencer, so I faked being asleep most of the flight. Even so, I could see from the corner of my eye how he was texting someone. From time to time, his gaze shifted to me, but I pretended not to notice.

My heart ached, but it was my fault. I shouldn't have entertained the idea of having Spencer as someone more than a friend.

For the rest of our flight, I kept my eyes closed. And when we landed, I was the first to descend from the jet to run to the car. I could hear Spencer calling my name, but I didn't turn back. I was overwhelmed, and I wanted to be at home.

It wasn't something I did on purpose, but I couldn't help it. In the following days, I paid extra attention to Spencer's behavior. He seemed happy and relaxed. He focused more on his phone during the day, and it was obvious why.

Fuck. I had lost my chance.

Son of the bitch. I bet they were dating now.

Sadness led to anger. But I knew I had no right to be angry, so I changed my attitude to distant and quiet. Spencer noticed my behavior change, and he obviously wanted to know why. So every chance he got, he asked me something, whatever came to his mind. Spencer looked extra attentive to me, worried when I hadn't eaten or drank enough water during a case. Even he brought me coffee almost every morning.

But for every gesture he made, he only got sourness from me.

The times Spencer asked me something, I gave him curt answers. The times he brought me a coffee in the morning, I usually would leave it untouched.

I know it wasn't an acceptable reaction for a grown-up woman, but I got all bitterness and couldn't help it.

"Are you okay?" He asked me in the BAU's kitchen one afternoon. I didn't even look at him.

"Yep," I replied, grabbing a mug to fill it with coffee. Spencer cleared his throat like when he was hesitant about something.

"You seem- I don't know. We haven't talked that much in the past few days; I-" Spencer stuttered. I knew he was trying to get me talking, but I didn't want it. I didn't want anything but go home a cry my eyes out.

"I guess it's because you have been busy," I muttered bitterly. But Spencer didn't hear what I said.

"What?"

"Nothing. Forget it," I said curtly, passing by him to go back to my desk.

Things between us have become even more distant since that. Spencer stopped asking me questions. The usual morning coffee ceased too. I didn't sit by his side in the jet anymore.

Now the text messages began to turn into phone calls. I could see how Spencer laughed over the phone and blushed whenever she probably said something more spicy to him. I hated perceiving all those things.

The worst part is that the team noticed it too, which was evident. For God's sake, I work surrounded by the best profilers in the country. What else could happen?

First, it was Emily who asked me if everything was okay. I lied, saying everything was just fine. Then it was Morgan telling me that he saw Spencer and me acting differently. I lied again, claiming I didn't know what he was talking about.

Even Garcia questioned me one day about my relationship with Reid.

I don't know if they believed what I told them, but at least they didn't keep asking questions.

-

Fighting against your own feelings is exhausting and useless to a certain extent. As much as I tried to convince myself that it was best for Spencer to have someone that wasn't me, my inner self continued to mourn for what would never be between us.

That may be why I felt like throwing up when I heard Spencer ask Hotch for days off to go on a trip. It was worse when I saw the plane ticket on his desk: a non-stop flight to Atlanta.

That afternoon we were going through some files in the conference room. Nobody else was there. So I couldn't stop my mouth.

"You never take days off," I pointed out.

Spencer's eyes shifted from the files to meet mine, and I could see his frown. At this point, we had weeks without talking about anything but work-related stuff.

"Pardon?" He asked.

I should have relented, but my lips got life on their own. Better said: my thoughts made their way out before I could stop them.

"I saw your flight ticket. You'll go to see your girlfriend?" I asked, trying to sound like it was nothing.

Spencer's face turned red, his lips pressing tightly and jaw clenched.

"Who?" He questioned, narrowing his eyes.

"The girl from Atlanta, Spencer. Who else?" I said, as it was stupid even asking that.

"Austin," he corrected. "Her name is Austin. And no, she's not my girlfriend," he said curtly.

"Whatever," I muttered, shrugging.

Spencer looked pissed. I didn't know why exactly. I thought it was clear we assumed he had a relationship with the Atlanta girl. But I kind of understood his nuisance: I didn't talk to him in a while, and I was doing it now to show my annoyance for something I didn't have the right to.

"So what if I go? Is there a problem? I have plenty of vacation days," Spencer said defensively, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know that. Since I have known you, you barely took a vacation," I commented. It was the truth. Spencer never takes days off.

It wasn't the important thing, though.

"So what is it (Y/N)? There is an issue for you?"

Spencer's question was the second call for me to let it go, but no.

"Not an issue for me, believe me. I mean, you can do whatever you want with your life," I said in the most deadpan tone possible. That way, I could cover my real feelings.

Spencer's gaze kept on me, barely blinking, waiting for what could come next.

I huffed in annoyance before continuing.

"But how much do you know this woman anyway? How can you be sure she is not playing with your feelings, uh?"

Because, of course, I had to phrase it like I was the concerned friend, not the way it indeed was: as the hurt and jealous girl.

Spencer seemed like he didn't expect what I said.

"What? Is that really what worries you?"

Of course not, genius. But I can't tell you that.

I kept silent, hoping I wouldn't give myself away if I said more words.

"What's wrong with you, people? Now everyone thinks the same fucking thing? First Morgan, then Penelope, and now you. You don't know her!"

Spencer Reid just cursed and yelled? That wasn't good.

I physically took a step back. Maybe I pushed too hard.

"That's because I worry - we worry about you. We don't want you to get hurt," I tried to explain. It was partially true. I would never find a girl who could fulfill all my expectations for Spencer, but even if I tried, I was sure Austin wasn't even at the bottom of the list.

"Get hurt? You don't know what you are talking about!" Spencer shrieked. It was good that the door was closed because, at this point, someone could have heard our argument.

"And you don't know her! What do you think? She surely flirts with a lot of guys! You are another check on her list!" I rebutted, trying to match his tone.

Was I being unfair? Most likely, but I was already on this line of reasoning. I hated myself for it because I should be honest with him. He is my friend, after all.

I was accusing a girl of something without reason, just founded on my bias and compromised judgment.

Spencer scoffed and shook his head.

"Last time I checked, I was a grown-up man (Y/N). I can make my own decisions, you know? And for the record, I could have expected this from anyone but you," he informed sternly. I saw the disappointment written all over his face.

Shit. I fucked it up. I hurt Spencer with my misconstrued speech of 'friend's worry.' It broke my heart to hear him talk that way. I needed to do something to fix it. I closed my eyes and sighed to collect my thoughts. He had the right to be pissed.

"Spencer, I know. I'm sorry. I - I didn't want to sound like you weren't an adult. I have never wanted to hurt or underestimate you. You are my friend," I tried to apologize, softening my voice.

"So why are you so upset? Don't think I didn't notice you've been avoiding me in the past weeks. Did I do something?"

Spencer seemed truly worried about my behavior.

"No, Spencer. You - you did not," I tried to reassure him. Looking at his hurt eyes, I told myself I couldn't lose him for a thing like this. If he feels happy with her, so be it. My role is to support him, not question that. "I - uh. I have been a little out of me recently. But it's not your fault. I guess I'm just a bit stressed after the last cases we had."

Great, keep lying (Y/N). Keep lying.

"It's that so? Are you sure there is not something else?" Spencer asked for confirmation, inspecting my features. What did those eyes mean? Like they were pleading for something that I didn't know.

I nodded regardless. "Yeah. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," I told him with a tiny smile.

I'll be fine. Those words were mostly for me. However, Spencer believed them because that led to stopping our argument. After we hugged, he promised to have a coffee to talk.

The coffee talk never came, though. I used all my excuses to avoid having a heart-to-heart conversation with Spencer. He tried, but I wasn't ready. Maybe I will never be prepared.

-

Days passed, and Spencer's trip was around the corner.

That last afternoon, he went to my desk to say goodbye. His flight was booked for the following day.

"I get going now," he announced, fidgeting with his satchel's strap. I stood to give him a tight hug.

"Have a good flight. And - uh - have fun, okay?" I mumbled after parting from our embrace and patting his chest. His lips formed a tiny smile.

"That's is what you want for me? I mean, me to have fun?" He asked shyly. I cocked my head. Was he asking for my blessing to do whatever he was thinking of doing with Austin?

"Spencer Reid. You deserve all the good things in this world. Everything that could make you happy. And if this trip is one of them, then it is what I want," I told him reassuringly.

He looked at me with that beautiful hazel eyes of his. I could have melted right there and then.

After kissing my cheek, he left the bullpen.

I stood there as if the world had just ended. Yeah, it sounds dramatic, but tell that to my poor broken heart.

Next step: rush to the bathroom to cry.

The cold tile didn't even matter. I was sitting on the floor, knees to my chest, arms around my legs. The tears ran freely. That was until I heard a knock on the door.

"(Y/N), are you there?" It was Emily.

Shit, not now, please.

"Can I come in?" She tried again. After a few minutes when I realized Emily didn't leave. I sighed in defeat and barely moved to unlock the door so she could get in.

"Hey! Are you okay?" Emily asked. Not a very assertive question. My answer could have done better.

"Ye - yeah," I sniffled, whipping my tears with the back of my hand.

"Uh - sorry, but you don't look like you are," Emily pointed. "If I have to guess, I would say something to do with Reid," she ventured.

"No. It's not like that. I mean -" I trailed off.

How could I ever explain this? Emily sat on the floor, too, by my side.

"This is about his trip to Atlanta?" I hid my head between my legs but nodded nevertheless.

"Do you think they got romantically involved, and that's why he is flying there?"

"I don't know Em. And I wish I could stop thinking about that," I muffled my words between my arms. Emily rubbed my shoulder to comfort me.

"You really like him, uh?" I tilted my head up, an embarrassed look adorning my face.

"Me? What?" Emily chuckled.

"Come on. Everybody knows (Y/N), minus Reid. Which is very unbelievable, but it's Reid. You like him. And it can be an understatement because, at this point, I would say it's more than that," she stated, now crisscrossing her legs and gazing at me for confirmation. I darted my eyes to the floor in resignation.

"Fuck. Is that obvious?" I mumbled.

"Yep," Emily pointed. "That obvious, indeed."

"But Emily. I can't. He's my friend. And I can't lose him."

That was my biggest fear, even if now I felt like I was drowning because of unrequited love.

"So you prefer to lie to him? Pretend it doesn't hurt and play the good friend card? That's not healthy. And you'll end up losing him anyway. Spencer would appreciate it if you were honest with him, and you deserve to be honest with yourself, too. He may not feel the same way, but at least you won't be hiding from your feelings. And if he's not the man for you, then you can move on without the 'what if' plaguing your mind."

I listened to her words in silence, and somehow they made all the sense in the world to me. It was just that even so, pushing myself to do something about it would be a bigger leap.

"Are you sure you didn't work as a therapist in some of your Interpol assignments?" I asked, frowning. Emily laughed.

"None of that. But I know you, and I also know Reid. Your bond, guys? It is stronger than a simple friendship. You both deserve the truth, believe me."

Maybe Emily was right. It was worse to pretend that nothing was happening. But I knew this would end up burying our friendship with Spencer.

My soul ached, but my heart was breaking from keeping my feelings to myself.

Sitting on my couch and watching TV did not help shut down my thoughts. What if I can never get over him?

Fuck it. Emily is right. He has to know.

I took my car keys and drove to his apartment. If I thought about it too much, I would surely regret it, so I just drove. It was already night, and the empty streets gave me the reassurance I needed.

Descending from my car, I noticed that my hands were sweating profusely. My head was pounding, forcing me to close my eyes to relieve some tension. I took the stairs almost on autopilot.

Now I was standing in front of his door without a clear idea of what to say—also feeling the certainty that I would be rejected.

I knocked on the door three times and waited. My mind raced to all possible scenarios.

'Calm down. You can do it.'

Spencer opened the door and saw me standing there. He seemed confused.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He was already in his sleeping outfit. What time is it, anyway? I didn't even check my watch when I decided to come.

"Hi. Uh - sorry, I came here all of a sudden. I-"

I felt like I was going to faint at any moment. I must have looked pale because Spencer's eyes morphed from curiosity to concern.

"Hey, come in. You don't look okay. Come to sit down and tell me what's going on," he offered.

Grabbing my hand gently, he led me to his couch and made me sit.

"Do you want me to bring you a glass of water? I can find you something to eat-" I didn't let him finish.

"Don't go to see her," I blurted out. I didn't plan to say it like this. Not at all.

Spencer's frown deepened.

"What?"

"Don't go to see her before I can tell you what I have to say," I rephrased, my eyes filling with tears.

My lack of explanation led Spencer to think about what had started our argument days before.

"(Y/N), I don't understand. I thought you were okay with it. Are you going to say again that Austin is trying to take advantage of me?" He asked defensively. I shook my head, biting my lower lip.

I can't lie to him anymore. I need to tell him the truth.

"So, what is it?"

"I'm sorry. I know this will sound selfish, but I can't keep this to myself anymore-" I babbled between sobs. Spencer tried to follow my words, but I was a mess in front of him. He sat by my side on the couch, his hands on my shoulder to help me to focus.

"Hey, easy. (Y/N), you need to breathe," he instructed. I just did that. I was freaking out without explaining a word yet.

Once I felt my breathing steady, I dared to look at Spencer.

"Okay. I'll start again," I announced. Spencer nodded. "You see, I thought I would never say this to you, but I need to," I chuckled bitterly. "I - I'm not opposed to the idea of you with Austin because I'm judging her without knowing her, which is what you're thinking I'm doing. I - I'm opposed to the idea because I would have liked to be her."

Spencer's eyes widened. Did he get the message?

"What?"

"I know. It's crazy and lacks rationalism, but I have felt this for a long time. I'm so sorry I'm telling you this now. It's unfair to you. You and Austin are dating now, and I came here to say these things. I'm so sorry, Spencer."

"Wait. Are you saying you… like me?" He hesitatingly asked as if he was afraid of misunderstanding my words.

"Like you? God, I think I love you at this point," I chuckled bitterly. "I know I should have done something earlier, and now it's late, but I was afraid of losing you because of this. I was ready to be buried with this secret if that meant having you close. And I-" Spencer gently rested his hand over mine to stop my rant.

"What changed? Why are you telling me this now?" He asked, looking at me intensively. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

"I - I don't want our friendship standing over a lie. It's not fair to you, and it's not fair to me. Even if you don't want to talk to me again, I would have to live with that," I concluded, averting my gaze.

"Hey," he said softly, with his fingers on my chin, tilting my head to return my look to him. "Why I wouldn't talk to you again?"

"Because I ruined our friendship? I mean, I have been a total bitch with you in the past weeks, and now you are in a relationship with Austin. I-" Spencer didn't let me finish this time.

"Stop saying that. I'm not in any relationship with anyone. Where you got that?" He asked.

What? Wasn't it obvious?

"I - uh. That's why you're flying to Atlanta. Right? Well, maybe you two are not official yet, but there is something between you both," I concluded.

Spencer chuckled, shooking his head.

Wait, what? Why was Spencer chuckling?

"There is nothing between us. I mean, romantically speaking. We get along pretty well; we are friends. That's all."

I looked at him suspiciously. Spencer grabbed my hand and kept talking.

"Believe me. Nothing had happened and never will happen between us. And do you know why? Because I'm already in love with my best friend."

I wonder if I fully registered what he was saying. Was he in love with someone else? With his best friend? Wasn't me his best friend? Oh. Oh!

"You-?"

"Yes,” he nodded. “And not in my wildest dreams did I think you could feel anything close to that for me.”

"How come you never told me anything?" I asked, still in shock.

"I guess I can ask the same thing," he sneered. I chuckled.

"But how? I mean, are you serious? Not because I just confessed my love for you?" I questioned, suddenly feeling anxious that Spencer only felt sorry for me.

"Can I give you proof that I'm serious?" He asked me almost in a whisper, subtly flicking his gaze between my eyes and lips.

I might pass myself out at that point. But I was not going to let this moment go away, which already seemed like a dream. I barely nodded, looking at him expectantly.

He scooted closer to me on the sofa, slowly bringing his hands to each of my cheeks to cup them. Without breaking eye contact, he whispered, "I love you (Y/N). I have been in love with you for a long time.”

"I love you too, Spencer,” I said back. Spencer smiled and leaned to kiss my lips.

The kiss started with us just brushing our lips tentatively. Then it was more determined but soft and sweet, one of his hands behind my head, the other cupping my jaw. My arms around his neck.

Fucking shit, I was kissing Spencer. A kiss that took years in the making.

His lips were warm and plump. A bit chapped, but I didn't care. I would have stayed like this forever, kissing him until my own lips went numb.

Before the kiss turned more heated, we parted—a grin plastered on our faces. But suddenly, my mind brought me to reality.

"Wait. Then what about Austin?" I asked.

It couldn't be that I had imagined everything I'd seen in these last few weeks, right?

"What do you mean?" Spencer questioned, softly stroking my cheek.

"You both-? I mean, the calls? The night you spent together? This trip? Are you sure you didn't-" I trailed off. Spencer giggled, a redness covering his features. After clearing his throat, he spoke.

"Would you believe me if I told you everything you just mentioned has to do with you?"

"Whit me? I don't understand." Spencer nodded, bringing my hand to his lips to kiss my knuckles.

"You'll see. When we arrested Parker, you helped me to lead Austin to the ambulance. Once there, she was calmer and began asking me questions about work, what would happen to Parker, and other stuff. I tried to explain a bit, and that's when you came over to let me know that we were going back to the station. When you turned to the car, I stared at you for a second—enough for her to notice. ‘Uh-oh. FBI Reid has a crush,’ she told me. I don’t know how she knew, but she knew. It’s funny because I have denied that fact for years, but I couldn’t lie to her. So I tell her everything,” Spencer shrugged.

“You told a stranger you loved me?” I asked in shock.

“Sort of? That night, I spent hours with her in the same bar. But mostly, it was me, after drinking several scotches, talking about how wonderful you were and that I didn’t know what to do, that you were my friend, and I was conflicted. She gave me advice, you know? That I needed to do something. To show you I cared. The texts? They were to track my progress with you and give me more ideas to get to you.”

“The gestures. The coffee in the mornings. The snacks. You asking me about anything that could happen to me,” I recounted. Spencer nodded.

That started to make sense now.

“But you seemed upset. You barely talked to me. So I was sad and lost. I already trusted Austin with this. I couldn’t go to JJ or Emily. It was complicated. I couldn’t go to you for obvious reasons.”

“So the trip is-“

“A chance to clear my head and get used to the idea that nothing would happen between us. I was positive when you told me you wanted me to be happy. I understood that doesn’t include being with you romantically,” Spencer admitted, pouting.

“Oh, my God. Spencer. We both were so so wrong. What kind of profilers are we? I was sure you both were dating. I was sure you slept with her that night. I’m so embarrassed now,” I shrieked.

“And I thought you were worried because you didn’t want your dork friend to be tricked by a girl. Because you cared about me, but just like a friend,” he said, shoulders slumped.

This time I grabbed his hands in mine.

“I wasn’t honest with you about my feelings. But I’m not going to make the same mistake again. I promise,” I leaned in to kiss him. Spencer reciprocated right away.

“Me neither,” he whispered, pecking my lips again. “So I guess now I don’t have a flight to catch tomorrow,” Spencer pointed as he wrapped his arms around me. I looked at him.

“Why do you say that?” I asked casually. Spencer raised an eyebrow.

“Weren't you the one who came saying not to go?” I chuckled.

“I said, ‘don’t go to see her.’ But a short vacation trip to Atlanta doesn't sound like a bad idea, only if that includes me,” I suggested cockily. Spencer laughed.

“Oh yeah? And how would we make that work?”

“I have many vacation days, you know? Hotch wouldn’t say no to me,” I winked at Spencer. He looked at me mischievously.

“If that is so, then I have many plans for you on this trip,” Spencer said, leaning in to give me a passionate kiss that left me breathless and seeing stars.

After all, things were not as they seemed to be. Spencer wasn't in a relationship with the girl from Atlanta, my love wasn't unrequited, and Spencer was just as overwhelmed by his feelings as I was. Someone would say, ‘they are made for each other.’ What can I say? I totally agree with that statement.

Oh! and another important thing I need to remember: once in Atlanta, I have to visit Austin to tell her I don't hate her and that I’m kind of grateful she crossed paths with us.

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

Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19  @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @thebloomingeagle @pauline5525mgg @maltamurdock @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99

[senka-mesecine]

Ok so inspired by the smiling headcanons you just did, could you write a nsfw oneshot for Barnes involving overstim and/or teasing?? 👀👀 thank yew!

Pulling The Trigger.

Robert Barnes x Reader.

---

You develop the odd tendency of getting up at 0400 to have a shower.

Reason being; solitude.

Devoid of the scramble of who gets to the water first and who pushes who into the makeshift palette fence adjacent to the barracks in a rush to get to the refreshment soonest, along with just a million 'drop the soap' jokes, whistling, jeering, lewd, splashing, comments and laughing even from the men directed at each other, just about the last thing you wanted was to try your luck at the Herculean task of showering alongside a bunch of them while outnumbered the way you were --- so at the crack of dawn it was. For months now, not that you kept an exact count. The whole basecamp vaguely asleep except however the night watch, the trip to what effectively served as a water closet in the relative wilderness was fairly uneventful, just the way you wanted it; nobody saw you do it. Nobody saw you right in the midst of it. Nobody would see you finish and return to your bunk either. But, it was something that needed to be done regardless how much you put it off, lest you acquire a pathetic case of lice. So, you hurry. The way you always do, standing on a small cement pad fenced off and tall enough to cover your body with just about the top of your head visible, you grab the nearby bucket and pour it over yourself once you're stripped, your fatigues throw over the nearby rail of the mobile shower, a nearby 55 gallon barrel of water ensuring you won't damage the other's prospects of achieving refreshment too.

Cold.

It was cold.

Luckily, even at daybreak, the air managed to be so humid already, your body didn't mind, regardless, due to natural instinct, it shivers, trickling down the top of your head and your spine, dripping down your legs impatiently tapping in place. A partially melted bar of soap with a long hair stuck to it that definitely wasn't yours, an old washcloth, a partially cracked mirror hanging off the fence attached there by an old bit of rope and wiring and not much else except the open sky above you; your eyes squinted shut once the water hits you and you're grateful even for this much, rubbing your lids dry and clean with your fingers. Being clean. The one thing that made you feel human out here. Then, when a voice speaks up from the other side of the fence, startling you, you feel more than human; you feel like a startled animal, snapping your eyes open, practically jumping.

-"You gonna be headin' out at 0600 so get your shit ready."-

All business and no shame, Sergeant Barnes staring right at you.

Already dressed, already awake. Already smoking too.

-"Oh, god!"-

You didn't mean to be a blushing wall flower, but an impulse was still an impulse, and your impulse then bids you to nearly shriek, placing your hand over your mouth to avoid making any sound that would be loud enough to echo across the quiet, still sleepy camp. When did this man wake up!? Three in the morning!? Two!? Did he ever even sleep at all!? -"Oh, god, I'm so sorry, sir, it's just that I didn't expect anyone to be here at this hour."- You ramble, apologizing, justifying yourself, your mouth moving on your own accord like a robot practically wired to do so, even though you were there stark ass naked and he was the intruding party; not that there was such a thing as intrusion out here. The men spoke to each other in various states of undress all the time and you supposed if you wanted to be equal...-"Sorry."- You manage to mutter out, finding some relief by sitting down on the concrete pad, hiding some semblance of your nudity in a rush. Actually reaching out to grab your own fatigues off the fence just inches away seemed like a tall order; and it was, not without flashing him your entire torso along with your full frontal self. He slowly approaches the bamboo panel that separated the two of you, lips pursed as they coiled around his cigarette. How could someone so big be so quiet? How did he even get this close to you without ever noticing? Ever hearing? -"Stand to attention when talkin' to me."- He says, leisurely, and that was an order, you knew as much. -"Of course."- You mumble out another apology, not realizing this briefing was formal in nature, hands scrambling for your uniform in an attempt to get dressed even though your were dripping wet. Even though you'd soak the material. His hand claps yours over the material, stopping it there, the index finger of his other hand wagging, giving warning.

-"And you stick by me out on trek, you hear? Me. No one else."-

Barnes instructs firmly, placing special emphasis on the 'me' part.

First time out on patrol with the men, you were inclined to listen.

You couldn't deny you were actually as nervous as they come.

Perhaps part of the reason why you were having this shower in the first place.

Maybe, subconsciously in many ways you feared and dreaded it could be your last.

-"I'll be wantin' to see right where you are at all times so your ass don't go gettin' lost on me out in the bush."-

He adds strictly, brows furrowed, looking straight at your face.

Never lower.

You simultaneously feel fully bared and entirely clothed.

Vivisected like a piece of meat and yet entirely formal, all hierarchy.

-"Understood. Perfectly clear, sir. Thank you, sir."-

You gulp, nodding reverently, wet strands of hair dripping across your shoulders.

He never did warn anyone of anything, having a 'sink or swim' approach.

Especially with the new guys, tossing them right into the fray.

So, why he was telling you this in particular...well, it was beyond you.

-"Nervous, first timer?"-

He asks suddenly, almost like his tone of voice fell from a staunchly professional one, almost paternal in its reprimand, an octave lower, to something more personal. You shake your head wordlessly, even though it was clear that your present predicament was tense enough to split atoms. -"Stressin' 'bout sumn'?"- He presses once you say nothing, head tilted downwards, towards you and you swear to god, Barnes is grinning. Barnes is grinning. You? Stressing about something? More like stressing about everything? -"No, sir."- You decide to lie, avoiding his gaze; sure, you were stressing about the fact that you were getting deployed out into the jungle with a platoon of men, never having done so before and that you were standing here naked with your superior officer while his hand was clasping yours over a water drenched uniform that carried the imprint of your shivering fingers. There was also the notion that you could've said you found the man striking ever since you were stationed here, but decided to keep your admiration strictly personal and now, he was so close the smoke of his cigarette was hitting you in hot waves. -"Ah, quit'yer lyin', cherry."- He drawls jovially, like he didn't buy the bullshit, letting go of your hand suddenly. The absence of him is so cold you simultaneously feel relived just as much as you want to die on the spot. Maybe in several hours time, your wish would come true. -"I've seen the way y'look at me."- Barnes leisurely saunters straight into the shower, boots on and fully dressed; now he was facing you, no barriers between you. His words perturbing enough that you momentarily disregard the fact that he could see all of you. He could...see the way you look at him? How!? When you went out of your way to keep it to a respectful minimum. -"Excuse me, sir?"- You stutter out, trying to maintain some composure; another ordered that proved to be too tall when you realized he was not only standing there, he was also approaching you, slowly, one step at a time. Cigarette smoked down to the butt, he crushes the remains under his bootheel, promptly stepping on it, leaving it there crushed and deformed in a puddle of shower water.

-"Thing is, don't want'ya to be starin' at me when you should be starin' ahead and all around'ya at all times. That's how y'earn yourself a ticket right out of here in a body bag."-

He explains, sounding uncharacteristically soft, however smug he came off due to the contents of his words, you don't think you've ever heard Barnes sound so tender and truth of the matter was, you were staring, the button up green dress shirt of your fatigues pressed to your chest for comfort. You were staring, right in this very moment. Thinking how very handsome he must've been in a bygone time before whatever blast came around disfigured his face; you figured so, because even close up, this instant, with all the damage done to him, he was still very handsome. Albeit frightening. Like something not meant to be touched. Your legs shake.

-"So, imma do sumn' 'bout that."-

He warns and you never even notice when you're grabbed and spun around, your chest pressed against the bamboo wall, face to face with the surface of the small shaving mirror your cheek's brushed up against; that was the thing about Barnes you observed in the past few months --- he was too quiet to be avoided, too quick to ever really be intercepted, coming and going like he wasn't even there. His reflection is behind you, reflected in the mirror and you see his see his scowl looming from over your shoulder, a quick hand's motion wiping away the droplets of water caught on the glass. Your heart beats wildly. Out of order. About to burst out of your chest. -"Look at it!"- He barks, shaking you.

-"Have yourself a good stare!"-

He commands sharply, chin nestled into the crook of your shoulder, your arms clasped behind your back in a vice grip, bare ass pressed against his crotch and it takes a moment for you to realize he meant his scar. He wanted you to look at his scar. Did he...think you were sneaking peeks at him periodically and that it was distracting you from your surroundings? That's...not why you were occasionally looking. But, one couldn't just come out and say 'Sir, if I look it's because I find you a marvel to look at'. Not here. Not now. Not when you were scared shitless. Lacking all courage. All bravery depleted.

-"When's the last sumn' cleared up'ya head so you don't go driftin' off in the fog? Hmm?"-

That 'hmm' is guttural, deep, almost a query and a tease as you feel a thick, meaty finger part the lips of your cunt, like silk to sandpaper, causing you to sharply draw in breath, realizing he was just asking you when's the last time you got fucked into clarity. Into a state of focus. Rattled just enough to be mindful. The opposite of distracted. Anxious. Fidgety. He starts rubbing and your body bucks into the movement, your face stuck to the mirror, watching him watching you. -"Daydreamin' will get'ya killed."- His words are hot in your ear, the textured pattern of a scarred mouth pressed against your lobe. -"Lollygaggin' will get'ya killed."- He adds, like a steady mantra.

Fingers repeatedly drawing eights into your folds.

Feverishly quickly, like he was trying to build you up as fast as possible.

-"Absentmindedness. Gets'ya killed."-

Barnes continues, his fingers working up a sweat in you, erupting your parted mouth in a cacophony of moans and sighs, leaving a trail of hot mist on the surface of the cracked mirror, causing your stomach to tense and coil; funny how it took so little to turn you on; his fingers weren't between your lips all but some odd ten to fifteen seconds and you already felt like you could explode. Either you were deprived of it too long to nervous degrees or you liked him so much that even very little was more than enough. Both were simultaneously possible too. -"Woolgatherin' gets us --- what?"- You whimper as he inquires, this time around in plurals, but your mind is too far gone to answer with any concise meaning, so he does it for you, never stopping with his ministrations; odd the warmth of the act not matching the heaviness of his words. His arms around you are are balmy and sweltering, his nicotine laced breath against your face, his chest against your back, all of it is clement and oddly snug except what he was saying. Woolgathering gets us... -"Killed."- He says simply, the finality of that spinechilling; you understand he was trying to relay --- get fixated on an idle fascination, a crush, an attraction and neglect the here, the now, and it can cost you your life. Instead, get it over and done with. Get it out of your system. Rub it out like a strange itch and he does so too, massaging your cunt you differently than he would a ready trigger about to be pulled. You groan once you feel the build up's epilogue, instinctively, your trapped arms writhing in his grip and just were you thought you were about to cum, he stops, pulling back, leaving you hanging and out of breath. You feel hazy yet somehow, more attuned to reality than ever. His face is the mirror and he observes you steadily from behind your back, ever focused. You don't know what compels you to press your lips against the surface of the glass and kiss his reflection, but you do. The imprint of your lips smeared across his visage. It was no different from kiss a sweetheart's picture nestled in a wallet. The gaze he gives you is soul piercing for all but a second before he's fined-tuned again, running at a perfectly controlled optimum while you were there reeling, practically pulsating with unquenched need, as wary as an animal. -"Get dressed."- Is all Sergeant Barnes says.

You kneel, disobeying a direct order, grabbing a hold of his trousers in the process.

You wanted, no, needed to return the favor, right here, on this concrete pad.

Bare, wet knees against the rock; not prudent, not smart. Wanton, though?

Yeah.

You were about to scrape and bleed yourself purely to feel him in your mouth.

Get at least some finalized relief through that.

Possibly the only man alive postponing or effectively rejecting the prospect of a blowjob being offered freely, his hand still slick and shiny with the wetness of you pulls you up with ease, like you weighed nothing at all, the fabric of his fatigues a muted olive green where you haven't touched him and dark where you soaked him through sheer contact. His stare is serious in its discipline. Stern, even. Like he was trying to relay the notion that right now, you were the one in ample, desperate need of this. Not him. You were the misplaced cog that was rattling around inside of the engine and required fixing. He didn't need fixing. Not at the present anyway.

-"When I need it I'll come get it."-

All transparency and all business, Barnes made no promises he didn't eventually keep. You knew as much. What's funniest, though? As he leaves you, giving you a lingering look, you feel strangely happy. Elated. Hastily putting on your fatigues, edged and rattled, you smile, looking forward to it. Looking forward to when he'll need it too.

[winniemaywebber]

It's Been A Long, Long Time • Part 4

🌹🌸 Jo and Jean 🌸🌹

masterlist

read previous parts here: 1 2 3

“Rosie?” Jean murmurs, shaking him awake. He wakes with a start and a snort, the baby beginning to cry at the sudden ruckus. 

“Aw, jeez,” Rosie says, looking at you apologetically. “What time is it?”

“Six o'clock. Seems little guy here blessed you with a whole night of sleep and a little time to sleep in. Wish he'd do that for me and his Papa.” She winks at Rosie, patting him on the shoulder. “Go upstairs to bed, doll. That chair isn't the most comfortable.”

“You can say that again,” he groans, stretching as he gets up. “You look well rested.”

“I am. Thank you, Robert. I really appreciate it, we both do.”

He nods, yawning and scratching his head as he exits the room. 

“See ya later, Jean.”

—

Scooping the baby up, Jean begins to go through her regular morning routine: diaper change, bottle and a change of clothes. Her and the baby are both exhausted by the time this is all done, thankful for the moment the baby falls asleep with a warm, full belly so that she's able to fix herself breakfast. It's when the toast pops up that she hears her husband pad his way down the plush carpet stairs, greeting her sleepily.

“Morning, Mrs Crosby,” he murmurs, kissing her deeply. 

“Morning, Binger. Toast?”

“Yes please,” he answers, pouring himself coffee from the pot on the stove. “Rosie taking a nap?”

“Sure is. I don't think the baby gave him too much trouble. When I came down at six, the pair of them were still sleeping!”

“Six?” Bing replies, shocked. “That little imp.” He shakes his head, laughing as he takes a sip from his mug. “That's just the Uncle Rosie touch.”

“Hey, a little soft jazz, a soothing conversation and some swaying, he was out like a light,” Rosie announces himself, looking a lot more refreshed than he did two hours ago. 

“Here he is. Morning, buddy.”

“Hiya, Croz.” 

Jean places a cup of coffee in front of him, asking if he'd like some toast by pointing to the toaster. 

“Yes, please, Mrs Croz. Little man okay?”

“Oh, yeah! He's just taking his first cat nap of the day.”

“That's good. I hope you don't mind, but I made a few calls last night.”

“You know that's fine, Rosie. While you're here, treat it like your own home,” she says, handing him the plate of toast.

“Yeah, pal. You're family, Uncle Rosie.”

“Thank you, guys. I gotta tell ya, first call was to my Ma. Second to–”

“To Jo. We know, doll.”

“How sad is that? Can't even go one night without hearing her voice.”

“Neither can my wife,” Bing grumbles jokingly, wiping his mouth. 

“Seems we're in the same boat, Jean,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I promised her I'd bring her here to visit the very second we are married.”

“You'd better. But let us get home first. We can't be racing down the highway with a baby in tow!”

—

The boys clear up the dishes before getting ready for a day of golfing. Jean and the baby decide to take it easy, lazing around in bed, playing and snuggling until she hears a sudden knock on the door. The baby on her hip, she quickly descends the stairs in her stockinged feet, careful not to slip. Opening the door, she lets out a delighted scream, practically jumping up and down in the doorway.

“Josephine!” she squeals, the girls hugging tightly. Without a word, she takes the baby from Jean's arms and looks at him, a huge grin on her face and tears in her eyes.

“Oh, he's gotten so big!” she cries, holding Jean close again. “He looks just like you, doll.”

“Do you think?” 

“Apart from–”

“The eyes,” they both say, their words overlapping. 

“Oh yeah,” Jo laughs. “No mistaking those brown puppy dog eyes. How did Uncle Wosie do, huh, buddy? He do a good job?”

“Girl, I don't know what kind of magic touch your man has, but that baby slept all night long.”

“Was that after he called his Ma in a panic?”

“He called her panicking? Jeez, he told us he had it covered.”

“Robbie can be an excellent liar, Jean. Remember our favorite one? ‘I'll meet you at Minton’s when I'm home after my 25th mission.’ Psh.” The girls break into giggles, Jean taking her hand and leading her into the dining room.

“You need me to take him?” She asks as they sit down. 

“Absolutely not, lady. I'm getting my fill,” she says, squeezing the baby's cheeks and making him smile. “Oh, he's a darling.”

“How did you persuade your father to let you come out here? I thought his rule was you had to wait until you and Robbie were married.”

“Well,” Jo sighs, stroking the baby's soft blond hair with her cheek. “Mom saw how miserable I was when I returned home this morning from the Rosenthal house. I'd just slept in Robbie’s bed and it smelled so much of him that…I just missed him terribly, especially knowing he was here with you guys.  Mom saw that and rolled her eyes. ‘Go on then. I'll tell your father.’” 

“I know how fast you flew out that door!”

“Didn't even let her finish the sentence. Out of there like a shot. I missed you so much, Jean.”

“I've missed you, too, doll.” The pair hold hands across the table for a second, both of their eyes filling with tears at finally being reunited after so many months apart. They had been each other's glue, backbone and support system during war time, the both of them sharing a unique bond as they fought with their emotions involving their men being overseas, putting their lives in constant danger for the good of their country. Them having to be apart once the boys had returned home was heart wrenching, Jean finally moving into her marital home upstate while Josephine returned to her family home in Brooklyn after baby Crosby was born. That's why their bond was so incredibly strong and unbreakable: it was Jo that held her hand through labor pains, placing cool washcloths on her head as she screamed and fought through the indescribable pain childbirth brought. It was Josephine that was there as the baby entered the world, his father thousands of miles away. 

“There's a cute house for sale a couple blocks away. Perfect for a newly married couple,” Jean winks, looking knowingly across the table at her friend. 

“Ugh, I wish he'd hurry up with it already. I am dying to marry that man.”

“Don't we know it,” she laughs, standing up and turning to the stove to fix a pot of coffee. “I've been putting in a good word for you.”

“It's your job as my best friend to do such a thing,” she replies, staring down at the baby on her lap. “And yours, little man! Come on, tell me! Did Uncle Wosie say anything to you last night? I'm listening.” The baby gurgles, smiling up at his aunt. “Keeping it a secret, huh? He tell you to do that? Of course he did. The cheek of the man.”

“And yet,” Jean says, stirring the coffee. “You love him.”

“That I do, Jean. That I do.”

—

The door swings open a couple of hours later, the sun just beginning to set, the house sinking into the orange glow. The two men swing their golf bags in, neglecting to take off their shoes as they plod into the living room. 

“Jean?” Harry calls, gingerly opening the living room door. “We're home, sweetheart.” He takes in the vision of Jean and Josephine giggling on the couch, the baby napping in the bassinet next to them. “Well, I'll be damned. Look who's here!”

“Honey!” Rosie yells, rushing up to her and taking her in his arms. “Uggghh,” he growls as he squeezes her, his hands raking through her hair. “But how–when did you–”

“She turned on the sad eyes with Mrs Harris and she couldn't say no when she said she missed her best friend and nephew,” Jean answers, her heart melting as they embrace over and over again. Bing is grinning from ear to ear at the sight too, walking over to the couch and placing soft kisses all over his wife's face before finally kissing her on the mouth. 

“Hi,” he murmurs, reaching down to stroke the baby's head. “How was your day?”

“The best, Binger. I'm so happy she's here.”

“I know. I can see it. You tell her about that house yet?”

“Sure did. I'm sure she'll poke him about it as the evening goes on.” 

Harry nods, nuzzling into his wife as he sits on the couch. “Love you, Mrs Crosby.” 

“Love you more, Bing.” 

—

The four had sat down to dinner, all exchanging anecdotes as they ate. Rosie and Bing had regaled the girls with their heroic tales of war: Bing staying awake for seventy two hours to ensure Rosie and their other men were safe on the day of days. Rosie celebrating his twenty fifth mission by buzzing the tower, Josephine having received a play by play of the event from Red Cross Girl, Valencia. Beginning as a comforting penpal, Val had become a friend of Jo and Jean's, along with her friend Olive.

“Have you heard from Val, Jo?”

“Yes! This past week actually. What did she say? Let me think…” she trails off, brow furrowed as she tries to recall the letter's contents. “Oh, yes! She's back home with Blakely, and Olive went with her. It must be such a shock for her to go from little old England to New York City in the blink of an eye like that, but Val says she's taking to it very well. They're all very happy. Olive is staying with them until she’s ready to go to Michigan to be with Dougie.”

“We must see them before she leaves. I'm dying to meet Olive.”

“Me, too! She sounds so sweet according to Val’s letters.”

“Who, English?” Croz perks up, toying with his whiskey glass. “Oh, yeah, she's a doll. A little contained at first because of the British shyness, but once she gets out of her shell…”

“A funny, funny girl. As is Valencia. She really brings Olive out of that mentioned shell, actually. Birds of a feather. Remind me of you two, actually.”

“Well, seems we'll all get along just fine,” Jean says, beginning to tidy up the dessert plates. 

“Sit down, Jean. We've got it.” Jo shoots a look at Robbie, taking the plates from Jean. “You and Harry go sit.”

“If you're both sure?”

“Of course. Thank you for dinner, darling. It was magnificent.”

—

Retiring to the living room, Harry picks up his son, who is gurgling happily in his bassinet. 

“Hey, buddy!” he coos, kissing his face. He sits down next to his wife, his head leaning on her shoulder.

“Where are they gonna sleep?”

“Binger, we have something called a guest room. That's where our guests sleep, wouldn't you know.” He shakes his head at her, laughing. 

“Together?”

“Yes, together. I doubt they're going to consummate their long term relationship in the guest bedroom of their best friends’ house while their nephew is only down the hall.”

“You're right. My bad.”

“Mind in the gutter, as always, Crosby.”

“Only for you, Mrs.” 

Hearing a ruckus in the kitchen, Harry and Jean turn their heads towards the door. They hear sounds of splashing, Jo giggling and Rosie laughing heartily as someone slips, a squeak echoing on the tiled floor. Jean begins to snort, Harry joining in as he hears a thump. “Are you sure they're doing dishes in there?”

“I dread to think of the state of the sink, Bing,” she says, wiping her eyes. 

A few moments later, the couple join them in the living room, the front of their shirts soaked. 

“What in God's name?”

“Robert thought it would be funny to play with the soap. What he didn't know,” Josephine says, poking at his cheek playfully, “is that I can give it back just as good.”

“Is my floor flooded?”

“No, ma'am,” Rosie says sheepishly. “I dried it up.” 

Jean can't help but laugh at Rosie's expression, seeing that Jo - whose shirt was a little less wet than her man's - had obviously won the fight that Rosie had started. Looking between them, she smiles, seeing the twinkle in both of their eyes as they wipe soap from each other's hair, it flicking off of Rosie's curls.

“On that note, darlings, I'm off to bed. Jo, you're in the guest room with Rosie.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Jean, that okay? I can sleep on the couch.” 

Jean waves a hand in dismissal, shaking her head. “Josephine came here so you could be together with no disturbances or silly rules. Of course it's okay.”

“Well, I also came to see you and my nephew,” Jo says, hugging her gently. “But thank you. You're a darling.”

“Goodnight, friends,” she says, beginning to exit the room with Harry hot on her heels, carrying the bassinet and the baby upstairs.

“Let me tuck you in, honey,” he whispers as they get to the bedroom. “Make sure you're all cozy.”

“Yes please, sweetheart. That's a lovely idea.” 

“How would you feel about us putting this little fella in his nursery tonight? Try it out?”

“Maybe,” Jean hesitates. “I'd like to sleep, though.”

“Hey, it's the weekend. I'll listen for him.” 

“Okay,” she breathes out, shoulders falling. “If you're sure.”

“Always. He's my boy. I'd stay awake forever for him if I had to.”

“At least we know you could make it three days before you dropped, so that's something.”

“Hey, now. That was just a fluke.”

“Mhm,” she mutters, sliding into the bedsheets. “Are you coming to bed, too?”

“Soon, my love. I wanna make sure the baby goes to sleep first.”

“Okay,” she replies sadly. 

“Hey, now, Mrs Crosby. Don't give me that pout, as cute as it is. I'll be in bed with you soon.”

“Fine,” she huffs, arms crossed in mock upset. 

“Would a kiss make it better, hm?” 

“Yes,” she grins, arms uncrossed immediately to grab him. They kiss deeply for a few moments before she sinks down in her pillow, Bing tucking the sheet around her body. 

“I love you so much,” he says, kissing her temple. “So, so much.”

“I love you too, darling.”

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @manonsmanicmind @hephaestn

[floralcyanide]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲

cillian murphy x gn!reader

After a sleepless night, you decide it's finally time to leave your husband, Cillian. Based on the song Every Light in the House is On by Trace Adkins.

warnings: angst, failed marriage, depression

word count: 1583

authors note: this is kinda mehh but I had no idea what kind of angst to write that wouldn't be soul-crushing lol and I didn't want to do that to ya'll just yet!! but if you like this please give feedback <3 (of course I did not proof read I just depend on Grammarly to guide me through the darkness lmao)

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

“I told you I'd leave a light on in case you ever wanted to come back home. You smiled and said you appreciate the gesture.”

Deciding to leave has been one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do. But it’s come to the point that you have to go- you’re no longer being treated the way you deserve and loved in the way you desire. Cillian’s career has reached a peak moment, and he’s been swamped for the last few years. He’s been studying J. Robert Oppenheimer for his role as him and has become Oppenheimer in a way. He’s distant, cold, and critical of everything. Cillian being occupied with studying and filming has made him a different person, a person you didn’t know. A person you no longer wanted to be married to.

You decided to wait until after the movie premiered to see if he’d change, but he didn’t. And it took you packing your things for him to begin waking up, metaphorically and literally. It was very early in the morning as you couldn’t sleep, and you finally got up from bed, digging out your luggage from the closet. You had been patiently and neatly folding your belongings and putting them in one of your suitcases for about two hours when Cillian first said something.

“Where are you goin’?” he asks, his accent thick from sleep.

“Away,” you say plainly.

“Away where?” Cillian sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes.

“From you,” you say, holding back tears.

A look of confusion crosses Cillian’s face, “What do you mean, love?”

It’s been ages since he last called you that, and the softness of his voice paired with the name sends tears rolling down your cheeks, “I’m leaving you, Cillian.”

Cillian is now climbing out of bed, all but tearing the covers off his body. He hurries to stand beside you, grabbing hold of your wrists, “What? W-why?”

“You aren’t you anymore. You’re not lively or happy as much as you used to be. I thought maybe you were getting old on me, but now I realize you’re just growing bored.”

“I could never be bored of you, sweetheart,” Cillian looks at you, his eyes softening, his salt and pepper hair tousled in a mess.

“Really? When was the last time we had sex, then?”

Cillian pauses, and a look of defeat crosses his features, “A while.”

“It’s been years, Cillian. At first, it wasn’t a big deal, but as time passed, I realized how long it had been. The last time was when we were in quarantine two years back,” you say, letting your tears fall freely now, “Of course, sex isn’t as important to me as you being you. And you just haven’t been the same for the last few years.”

Cillian nods slowly, taking in your words, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, let me make it up to you. Please?”

“It’s too late,” you frown, finishing your folding and closing the first suitcase, ���It’s been so long already. And whenever I tried talking to you about it, it was like talking to a brick wall.”

You pull the suitcase off the bed and place it with the other luggage on the floor. Cillian then realizes you’d been packing for a while during his sleep. He hardly remembers you trying to talk to him about your relationship- hell, he hardly remembers anything from the last three years, really. But he doesn’t doubt that you did. He doesn’t think you’d ever lie to him, even if he probably deserves harsh punishment. You leaving him, he’s decided, is punishment enough.

“Will you ever come back?” Cillian inhales sharply, trying not to get visibly upset as he follows you down the stairs.

“I don’t know.”

If Cillian knows anything about you, it’s that once you’ve made up your mind on something, there’s no going back. And he knows that even if he gets on his knees and begs you to stay or cries his eyes out as he holds you close to him, you are still leaving. There’s nothing he can do about it except give you time.

“It’s still dark out, so be careful,” Cillian says, watching as you bring down the remainder of your things from your shared bedroom, “I’ll leave a light on, you know, in case you change your mind.”

He knew that you wouldn’t change your mind, though. But it was worth a shot.

“I appreciate the gesture,” you say, looking Cillian in the eyes.

Cillian looks down at the floor, and you sigh, unlocking the front door as you move your luggage to the front porch. Your best friend was picking you up, and you’d stay with them for the time being. Being away from Cillian will be hard, as you’ve been together all your lives. But you needed to do this for you.

“Every light in the house is on just in case you ever do get tired of bein' gone.”

“If I should ever start forgettin', I'll turn the lights off one by one. So you can see that I agree, it's over.”

It’s only been a few days since you left, but it’s felt like an eternity for Cillian. The house is eerily silent without you playing his vinyl and singing along or you humming as you clean the house. The TV isn’t playing a documentary or a show you’re binging anymore, mail piles up at the front door where the slot is, and dishes sit in the sink. A layer of dust is already coating photographs and knick-knacks, some of which were yours. Cillian is a mess and a half without you. He kept his promise, though. He left the porch light on for you. Also, the lamp at the front door, the lamps in the living room, the kitchen nightlight, the hall light, and the lights in the bedroom were kept on, too. You could probably see the glow of the house from the road. The home you two used to share is like a bright sunny day, contrasting with the darkness outside because of all the lights being left on. 

Every day, Cillian sits in his office, reading a book and checking the time every five minutes. He also checks the window to see if your best friend’s car is there or if you are approaching the front door. But the car is never there, and you aren’t either.

After a few weeks of no sign or word from you and a higher electric bill, lights in the house slowly begin to be turned off. Cillian is more of a shell himself now than he was when you were together. He realized that he had been exhausted and inside his head too much, and that’s why he didn’t give you the attention you rightfully deserved. Cillian decided he would work on it, and if it would bring you back, then he’d do anything. But slowly, he began to give up on you ever coming back. Even if he did work on himself. So, he turned off the hall light, after that, the kitchen nightlight, and then the lamps in the bedroom. 

“Every light in the house is on just in case you ever do get tired of bein' gone.”

The night that the very last light is on- the porch light- Cillian is heading to bed and decides perhaps he should finally turn it off. It’s been months now with no word from you. No calls, no letters, nothing. It’s time. When he goes to the front door, he sees something, no, someone at the door through the side windows. At this time of night, there is only one person it can be, but he won’t believe it until he sees it. He unlocks the door and pulls it open, and there you stand. Cillian can’t believe his eyes.

“You left the light on?” you ask, a tearful smile on your face.

It’s been raining and still is, and you’re soaked from head to toe just from the short walk from your friend’s car to the front door. Your wet hair is sticking to your face, and Cillian thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do right now.

“Of course,” Cillian says, “Every light in the house was on at one point.”

“So I heard,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him and his sweet yet sometimes dramatic gestures.

“Are you here to stay?”

“Maybe,” you say, crossing your arms, “How has it been without me?”

“Horrible,” Cillian says immediately, “Quiet and dreadful. The grass isn’t quite as green without you here, and the birds don’t come to visit anymore.”

You laugh at the sad yet poetic way Cillian has made the house seem without you in it, “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah,” Cillian frowns, “I’ve missed you terribly.”

“I know. That’s why I’ve come to see you,” you say, turning around and waving off your friend so they could leave, “For a little while, at least.”

“Any time with you is time well-spent,” Cillian smiles.

This is the Cillian you’ve been missing, the witty and sweet man who’d do anything to see you smile. You come inside with your bag, and Cillian quickly runs upstairs to run you a warm bath, turning on every light as he goes. You notice there were no lights on in the house until you walked through the front door. Now, the whole place is alight again. You hope it’ll stay that way.

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @queenshelby @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @langdons-slut