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theoxenfree · 15 hours

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LUCID

sleep paralysis demon x reader | 3k | 18+

you've never known a true, good night of sleep in your entire life. when your doctor and best friend, dr. sujay patel, offers to vouch for you as the perfect candidate for a "last resort" sleep study and medication trial, you don't have high hopes. the first night of the trial, things go sideways very quickly.

warnings; technically somnophilia, dubcon, hair-pulling, restraint, some eerie/unsettling details, breech of patient-doctor boundaries, alcoholism, implied addiction/addictive personality, academic cheating, some culturally sensitive discussion, roughly proofread.

this is the first concept piece for my upcoming sleep paralysis demon x reader story!! to help me shape the story, pls answer feedback questions + reblog!!!

Children at your daycare liked to draw you fanciful pictures of the other lives they lived in their dreams during afternoon nap time. You were shown orange tabby cats with green eyes garbed in full-plates of knight’s armor, brandishing a fish sword against a foe to save the world. Most often, they dreamed of their families and drew bright, brave versions of themselves holding hands with a parent, a sibling, a bipedal family dog with an electric collar. A few of the children never smiled in their self-portraits.

The proportions of everything were always silly: gigantic tree trunks with tiny, green bundles sitting atop of them, three enormous fruits supported by brittle vines and growth in bushes, cats and dogs with ears as tall as their bodies, Mom with purple skin instead of brown, Big Sis looking particularly volatile with a theratrically large snarl. Despite this, the children beamed in pride whenever yesterday's drawings would come down off the wall to be replaced with the new.

For some of these kids, this was their own equivalent of having art hung on a refrigerator; to you, it evoked dull, thready jealousy because they were in possession so simple, so biologically normal to them and everyone else around them that to be incapable of the same thing was, surely, a major defect.

Sleep was already a treasure you were seldom allotted the pleasure of greedily surrendering to, but to dream sounded like a terrifying experience to you altogether. It took work; a stringent routine of warm showers (hot and scalding water was forbidden), with an array of chalky, dissolvable tabs and shower gels and shampoos and moisturizers and essential oil dehumidifiers and soy candles and hot tea and special pillow sleep spray you’d seen in an online ad while thumbing through socials.

It took pajamas that were loose, soft but not silky, it took a satin bonnet and a satin eye covering (the kind with pockets for your eyelashes to move), comforters soused in lavender spray meant to magically work out the tightness in your shoulders and calves without the need of paying for a masseuse’s bony elbow. It took purchasing a battery-operated alarm clock to wake yourself for work so you could shut off your phone and leave it plugged into the wall downstairs.

You'd nearly forgotten—you couldn't have sugar after half past six, you had to stagger your water consumption after that time as well because the urge to piss would keep you awake for hours after the fact. The television needed to be off once you finished putting away dishes after dinner.

If you were lucky, this would work and you'd sleep a total of two or three hours uninterrupted—never fully tipping over the edge of wakefulness into deep sleep, but enough to keep yourself going during the day, grocery shop, wrangle the small children, scrape at a bar, get dicked down into your mattress every now and then, and visit Sujay for your usual appointments.

“How do you feel about trying something different?” he always gestured to one of the modern-looking armchairs upholstered in teal polyester before bringing you a tea of some sort. Today was a floral white tea with a spoonful of honey. “Ah, my friend, I worry for you. We've done so many studies, we've tried so many different things. Does none of it help? At all?”

“Not really.” you admitted after a sip, singing your tongue once and placing aside the cup and saucer pair. “I don't know if I can keep doing this until the day I die, Sujay. What do you recommend next?”

Dr. Sujay Patel was your neurologist, an utterly brilliant man, and a close friend from your early university days. Despite the rest of your friend group falling apart, pulled in separate directions by the strings of fate and temptation of money, you'd managed to stay in contact with Sujay throughout grad school. There'd been an intermission, probably a period of two years, where you'd forgotten he even existed.

You were out making a disaster of your life on sleepless, drunken benders because you hoped enough alcohol would either knock you out or kill you. The normal distractions came with it: your entire family dynamic corroding and combusting, an ex getting too big for their britches, and a roommate suspiciously eager to rally behind that ex.

Sujay came back into the picture following a nasty incident of alcohol poisoning that left you bedridden in the hospital for a week. You had decided then, in that uncomfortable bed with their starchy, crunchy white sheets and the bathroom being too far away to simply get up and walk to, that you'd abstain from alcohol forevermore.

He'd seen you in a state of soul-weary disarray not long after you were discharged and had decided to take you on as a patient.

“Now, you have a choice here, just remember that.” Sujay sat adjacent to you in the exact chair you were in. He wasn't daunted by the heat from his tea and took some time with it, whether to savor the subtle notes of it or to consider his words, you weren't sure. “But, a colleague of mine at a… pharmaceutical company has been working to get an experimental sedative into some studies. Testing periods, I guess you could say.”

You're convinced by his dedication to his tea to pick up yours again. “Does it work?”

“As of now, one-hundred percent of those who have participated have reported high-efficacy, or at least have claimed it to be effective in some manner.” His mustache moved as he sipped. You drank as well. “I think you should submit to the study and if you're accepted into one of the control groups—commit to it. We're running out of options otherwise. I don't want you to start mixing up your own cocktail of things. All it takes is the wrong thing once, y'know?”

The chair groaned while you adjusted your weight in it. You sighed. “Would that once be such a bad thing, though? At least I could sleep.”

“I'm a doctor,” Sujay looked over his square-rimmed glasses at you, forehead wrinkles enormous, whites of his eyes showing more than the hazel of his irises. “Behave yourself.”

“Fine.” Mesmerized by the stray tea leaves that had managed to escape the metal ball steeper, you said, “tell me what I need to do.”

Sujay had sent you away that day with a whole host of follow-up appointments and a glowing review to his colleague in hopes of skipping the line as much as possible. Sometimes, it was beneficial to have friends in high places, especially when that means you get a call two days later for preliminary, formal interviews and an offer to participate in said study once clearances came through and your blood work came back as desired.

A month to the day when Sujay first mentioned the possibility of a magical cure all to your relentless insomnia, you were brought into a minimally furnished room—the standard, bland cookie cutter type that hadn't an ounce of personality—dotted from head-to-toe in stickers for neuromonitoring, heart rhythm, and whatever else they fancied, you supposed.

It was only after you had changed into your soft, but not too soft, pajamas and covered in wires that you were handed a tiny purple pill. The color of it was obviously a dissolvable casing and food coloring, but what amazed you was the fact a drug this small was meant to induce the best sleep of your life.

“Take the pill, drink at least four ounces of water, and lie supine.” The technologists outside your room, speaking into an intercom, elaborated afterward that they wanted you to stay on your back while you slept. You didn't bother to point out that you weren't stupid—just tired. “We understand that not everyone finds this position comfortable, but to receive adequate results and to measure your vitals at all times, we ask that you try your best.”

You weren't going to hassle them about this and did precisely as they instructed. Shoved the pill down the back of your throat, drank the bottled water, and tried to get comfortable on your back.

You closed your eyes.

A part of you wondered why you had assented to Sujay’s suggestion so easily, especially where everything else had failed. He was one hell of a friend, and had always been that way for you, but as a doctor, you wondered if two years of cheating through medical school, so as to not royally piss off his parents and be disowned for failing, was finally catching up with him somewhat.

You recalled being startled when he told you he hadn’t married yet and didn't intend to as some deep-rooted act of spite against his family and the traditions they had held over his head all his life. Traditions that had been weaponized against him, rather than supplement his life as an extension of his history, of the things he loved, of a chance to explore more of himself.

You had listened wordlessly the entire time he spoke about it, still sipping on his tea, the results from your latest brain scan clamped to a clipboard on his lap—

This wasn't working.

This was so stupid.

You opened your eyes and sat up in the stiff bed, carefully maneuvering your fingers around your orbital bone to force away the puffiness and exhaustion still lingering behind them. It was only as you rubbed your eyes that you noticed your face was empty of cold stickers and a thousand wires. You didn't hear distant blips in the machine measuring your heart rate, nor track the voices of anyone outside your door.

The room was still the same—the outdated, bulky dresser with claw feet, a few gray chairs you could buy on display in a window somewhere, a low oval table, a bedside table for your glass of water and a crisp, neatly folded change of clothes for the next day.

It was only unusual that you were bare of the technologist’s monitoring equipment and sitting amid an unfaltering, deep silence that amplified the sounds of your very existence. Your slow breaths with a quickening heartbeat, blood pumping in your ears, and the coarse rustle of bedsheets as you shifted around the mattress to bring some sense to what was going on.

Would the technologists have come into the room and removed everything from your body without waking you? More miraculously, without you rousing and throwing your hands on them for touching you first?

“Maybe the drug worked?” you had to consider the possibility, even though it still felt as far-fetched as the holistic medicine practitioners online telling you that an herbal cleansing juice could regenerate organs entirely. “Did I actually sleep? I don't remember dreaming, though. Aren't I supposed to dream?”

You looked to the one, single-paned window across the bedroom to spy how far along the morning had progressed, but found yourself sucking in and holding in a breath instead.

There, standing in your view of the outside, was the silhouette of a tall man. Everything about him was indistinguishable aside from the depth of darkness that made him up. Within the confines of the dim room, alight by a single lamp with an amber bulb that seemed to weaken by the second, this man stood apart from the shadows as something deeper, blacker, but corporeal.

He was every bit a part of the dark as much as he wasn't. And you couldn't tell if he was fading you or turned to look out the window at the parking lot two stories below.

“Hi—hello. Are—are you one of the techs?” you had finally let out that breath, now focusing on gauging the guy’s level of sociability, and by extension, his friendliness and the likelihood of him lunging at you. “I, uh, just would've really appreciated it if someone had woken me up before taking off the stickers.”

You were able to see out the window from the gaps around his body, taking note that it was still dark. Very dark. Beyond that, nothing else was discernible from where you sat and what he blocked.

The study wouldn't have finished yet.

Those techs would've taken precaution to wake you up if something had happened.

“Am I asleep?” you asked the wordlese man. “Am I dreaming now? Are you a dream? Is that what it's like?

You never imagined that there could be so much lucidity within a dream, a level of consciousness so similar to a state of wakefulness. When you thought about moving, you could perfectly flex your fingers, curl your toes into the high-pile carpet underfoot, touch the airy fabric covering your body and feel it touching you in turn.

How normal was this really, though? No one had ever told you about dreams like this. Theirs were always fragmented and discombobulated, just like the kids in daycare who drew pictures of pig astronauts and flame extinguishing spatulas. You knew of a rare few in the population capable of controlling their dreams, steering the outcome in the direction they pleased, but even those people were overrode by their own brains.

This was something completely different.

You became especially convinced of this when you thought the stifled air suddenly shifted with a light breeze, a soft whoosh in your ear. A chill erupted over you, making your skin burst with goose flesh, your brain chasing a shiver down your spine as if cold fingers stroked you all the way down the length of it. Those same fingers stayed low, hovering across your lower back before pushing into you, arching you down onto the mattress.

That freedom you thought you had only moments ago was gone, stolen by this invisible hand on your body that was rounding to you and reaching for your chest. Until now, you thought this had simply been a part of the dream—something you had believed to be in control in when the reality was much different—but, as the buttons on your sleep shirt unfastened before your eyes, the thin layers opening you to the cold, inky air, you weren't sure what to think, to do.

Another hand joined the first with long, heavy fingers to knead at your body and take your pants off of your hips until you were fully exposed to the darkness and the thing still dwelling within the room. It hadn't moved an inch since you'd noticed it a while ago; it never became any clearer, any more defined in the clothes or wore, and trying to look upon its face only filled you with puzzlement and dread.

The large hands were so cold despite all their movement on your hot skin, all of the work they did to start riling you up and making you moan. One of them groped your chest, felt your throat, squeezed your jaw as though to force your gaze at one point in particular (the ceiling), pushed apart your lips to dip into your mouth and wet its fingers on your tongue.

You did so as it was the only thing you could do freely right now.

Those fingers, covered in your spit, caressed you between your legs, stroking you in motions neither gentle or harsh. The muscles in your thighs flinched, stomach tightening, your throat vibrating to produce a moan smothered by the second hand circling your throat, gripping firmly enough where you could breathe, but just barely.

The thing couldn’t stop your thoughts, as much as it seemed to try, so it took to interrupting them—distracting you but squeezing your neck, yanking your head back into the pillow by your hair, adjusting itself to thrust multiple fingers into your body, burying them to the knuckle.

You tried to win this war of willpower by thinking about Sujay and his mustache and his stupid glasses. They were green, sometimes blue; seldom did he like the tortoiseshell look.

The thing lunged at your neck again, this time taking you underside the jaw and forced your head back into the pillow while it fucked you deeper on three fingers.

You wanted to make a sound; a moan, a scream, a torturous whimper or pleasure for the way your body was rocked on the bed, creaking with the weight of a pair combined and not just how it appeared. Your nostrils flared, heart rate at an uneasy high, breaths stuck in the column of your throat behind the hand holding it.

The pressure continued to stack higher and higher, building to such a point where you knew you were about to lose it, unravel, praying that this thing would grant you the kindness of fucking you out of your orgasm.

Your abdomen was wound tight, your groin ached terribly, and your thighs started to shake. Behind your eyes, the kaleidoscopic wheels of color intermingled with the darkness and it all slowly burned to white.

And then—

“Good morning!” you were being shaken awake by one of the technologists, a middle-aged woman with blue eyeliner. she didn't expect for you to jolt upright, stick straight, and launch the covers off of your body. “Oh—hey, honey, you alright? We’re done until tonight. How do you feel?”

You were slow to respond to her, occupied by the morning light filtering in through the window across the bedroom. She gave you some time to gather your bearings and took her time removing the stickers and wires from your skin, suggesting you spend some time really scrubbing in the shower later to get off all the adhesive.

“How about now, honey?” she pulled the last sticker and wire combination off of your shoulder. “You with us?”

You didn't know how to answer that, especially not with how damp you felt inside your thighs.

a/n; thank you for reading and choosing to help me shape the story further!! this is all inspired by the fact that I have frequent bouts of sleep paralysis myself and on three consecutive occasions, after taking some questionable drops from an ex-friend, I saw something. I want to make this very clear that this story is intended to be pretty extreme psychological horror. anyway, here are the questions

sujay will be a major supporting character in the story, so what would you be interested in seeing more: 1) sujay and mc further blurring that boundary and possibly becoming a pair, but their "relationship" becomes thwarted by SPD 2) sujay, possibly, ends up with more yandere tendencies as the story progresses and with the development of the plot, could result in a terrible ending for him—but interesting 3) sujay and mc are inherently a toxic duo, but he tries his best to support mc (platonically or one-sided romantically) as they spiral out of control?

in terms of SPD's appearance, what idea do you like better: 1) him, eventually, having a definitive, solid form and features across the span of the story 2) he remains like a "black silhouette" with the invisible hands, but he has the sort of voice that's lulls and lures and manipulates 3) he takes on features that mc (you) find attractive, but they're all wrong and progressively becomes more monstrous 4) he has a physical appearance that's "all wrong", but you can never figure why or what he actually looks like despite SEEING him. if you want to choose multiple, you need to get VERY specific.

I intend for this story to be incredibly dark in terms of sexual content bc SPD is a demon/monster. he is not good. he is not loving. when you think of "dark" for smut, what would you want to see??

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muzansfangs · 1 day

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Bloodstain.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; mention to Gin Ichimaru, Kaname Tosen, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, Nnoitra Gilga, Shuhei Hisagi, Orihime Inoue, Ichigo Kurosaki, Masaki Kurosaki, Uryu Ishida, Isshin Kurosaki, Ulquiorra Cifer and Haschwalth Jugram;

Format: multi-chapters story;

Warnings for this chapter: nsfw, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, body worship, dom!Aizen, sub!reader, oral sex (reader!receiving), hair pulling, domestic life, fake dating, dirty fantasies, violence, gore, blood, bruises, death threats, mutual pining;

Plot: Taking care of Mrs. Watanabe’s daughter is not hard. Trying to appear like a couple in front of her bright eyes is a completely different story, though. The pent up frustration building up throughout the day eventually explodes. The desire to have you, to touch you again, to be one with you is driving Sosuke insane. You are too tempting for him and the way you take care of children, surely, is not helping.

N.B: I had to split the chapter in two parts. Some of the warnings belong to the second part!

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | TO THE NEXT CHAPTER

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𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

A sunny morning and a six-year-old girl standing at your front door, curiously staring up at you with her leaf green eyes, indicated the beginning of a new day. The storm had passed on through the night and the warm rays of the sun kissing your face had gently waken you up from your slumber. Albeit you had agreed on sleeping next to Sosuke, by the time you had come back to your senses, he was not there. His side of the bed was empty, the sheets cool. Probably, he had waken up a couple of hours earlier, leaving you to a well-deserved rest. A noble gesture, considering who he was.

Eyes landing on your lap, you had noticed your nightgown was immaculate and still on. The bed was not messed up and the blanket was securely wrapped around your waist. He had been a man of honor, keeping his promise of not touching you more than it was strictly necessary. Sleeping in his arms was surely not something you should have done, but he was the only one who could help you to find rest whilst a storm raged outside. Thinking about it, in the past, beside your late mother, no one else had ever slept by your side, silently comforting you. No one had ever done it but him. It was ridiculous.

After taking a quick shower and changing into a flowery sundress, you had entered the kitchen only to find him sitting on the stool with a novel and a cup of tea in front of him. Sosuke had glanced up at you, not a word leaving his mouth, as you made yourself some coffee and begrudgingly muttered a ‘Good morning’.

He hummed as a response and you took it as a sign it was better to end off whatever small conversation you could muster with him. Not even ten minutes later, you had heard the doorbell ring and there you were now: locking eyes with a small version of the hellish Mrs. Watanabe. A prettier one, actually. The woman had not even bothered to show up at your door, she had simply left her daughter there and had made her getaway. For once, you were glad she had opted for being rude. Beholding the sight of her face early in the morning would have probably made you throw up your breakfast.

“Good morning, Aoi. — you greeted the girl with a mild voice, leaning slightly down to her eye level — You’ve grown up since the last time I’ve seen you”.

The girl blinked, holding her plushie to her chest “The paediatrician said I’m two inches taller than I was seven months ago”.

You smiled softly, stepping aside to let her enter your flat “Ah, I see! Let’s go inside, come on” you chimed, watching as the small girl trotted inside your house, familiar with the environment by now. She was better than her obnoxious mother and you really hoped she was going to be the opposite of that snake with a raven bob and high-necked dresses. It was impossible to predict how she would have turned out to be, but you had promised yourself to mold her into a sweet and loving girl in the time you spent with her.

Closing the door behind you two, you watched as Aoi stood in the middle of the living room, tilting her head to the side almost puzzled. It was almost like the little girl sensed something was off. Following her gaze, you realized she was looking directly at Sosuke, now occupying the entry to the kitchen with his lean frame. He seemed disinterested, hands into his pockets as he shifted his gaze from the child to you. For some reason, your mouth went dry. You had no idea of what was going on inside his head, but you hoped he wanted to keep on acting as a normal man and ‘your boyfriend’ in front of the witch’s offspring. Aoi was young, but old enough to innocently tell her mother the truth about your relationship with Sosuke.

Therefore, here you were, heart pumping hard in your chest and pleading eyes boring into Sosuke’s ones. It was almost like you were begging him not to let you down now. And, surprisingly, he did not.

“Who are you?” Aoi asked him, causing you to hold your breath in anticipation.

“I’m Sosuke. — he introduced himself, soothing tone caressing your skin — I’m Y/N’s boyfriend”.

You detested the lie he had come up with to justify his presence in your house, yet you were glad he was sticking up to the original plan right now. He was more collaborative than you had expected him to be. Sosuke was still himself, arrogant and sneaky. Despite that, he was apparently blending into the human society better than you had imagined.

You released a breath you had not realized you were holding at the sound of his words and he had not failed to notice how your shoulders had relaxed, hand now patting the small girl’s back as you motioned for her to go sit in the couch.

“Really? But I never saw you with her. Where were you?” Aoi piped out, panic washing over you again as the kid ignored you, fascinated by the new man in your living room.

Sosuke’s eyes flitted from the child to you, proud to be the one who had to somehow pull you out of that mess “I was out of town for work. I have decided to move in as soon as I have come back” he shortly said, Aoi’s eyes growing round as she listened to your former enemy in sheer interest.

“Oh! What do you do for a living?”.

Gosh, she was nothing like her mother, but that hag had taught her well how to be a noisy pest at times. More details and lies you two had to invent the harder it would have been not screwing up.

“He’s a cr—”you blurted out, but the rest of the words died on your tongue upon realizing you were going to label him as a criminal. Colors drained from your face, Sosuke’s eyebrow quirking up to come up with a remedy to your idiotic inclination to speak without thinking.

“Cricket player. I’m a cricket player”.

This was not what you expected him to say. Out of the vast list of works existing, he had really chosen a peculiar one. You palmed your forehead, turning around not to look at him. Aoi, on the other hand, gasped and enthusiastically asked more questions.

“O my God, so you have a horse?”.

Sosuke did not even hesitate to provide the curious human more informations “Oh, I do. I have recently bought this new specimen. It’s a female and incredibly stubborn. It’s hard taming her, but I’m confident I’ll eventually succeed” he cooed, the hair behind your neck standing whilst your brain registered his smooth talk and rationalized the true meaning behind them.

He was definitely walking on thin ice. Knowing you had to keep up a syrupy lovestory not to plant doubt in the kid’s mind, he had resolved to send you messages for you to read between the lines. How badly you wished you could just hit him with a frying pan and kick him out of your house. Instead, you had to turn around and display a sympathetic smile at him.

“Alright, enough about his job! Why don’t you sit there and tell me what you’d like to do today?” you chimed in, blocking Aoi’s view on the special threat without even sparing him a glance. You could feel his gaze on you, boring holes on your back as if he was firing a gun. He was right about a thing, summarizing his impression on you: you were hard to tame. Going down without a fight was not in your style. He could ask Haschwalth Jugram about that, but considering he was dead he could always ask Uryuu Ishida to make a detailed report about your battle.

Aoi blinked and hummed, the index of her small hand playing with her lower lip thoughtfully “The beach”.

“The beach?” you repeated, bending down to her eye level.

“Yep! There is going to be a competition of some kind! I wanna go, please, please! My mommy never lets me go to play in the sand” the small girl piped out, her pigtails swaying around her visage with every little stomp of her feet.

You were not hellbent to pander to the kid’s whims. You had been dealing with children on your own after Masaki’s tragic death. Ichigo was not really a capricious boy, the even younger girls neither. However, you had learned how to moderate your inclination to give them the world after their mother’s loss. Clearly unhappy and lost, they needed someone to guide them and humour them. This is what you did, in the end. Aoi was not spoiled. She had nothing, besides a very strict and a non-affective mother looking after her. A little treat could not do any harm.

The situation was risky, though. Could you trust Sosuke enough to let him tag along to a most likely overcrowded beach? With every passing second, your temptation to go back to the Soul Society and evirate Shunsui increased notably. He had ruined your life.

You clicked your tongue, shooting a side-eye to an impassive Sosuke towering over you from behind. He did not mumble a single word, arms folding against his chest as you stood back up and hurried him out of the living room. Aoi watched you two with her big doe eyes, hoping you were going to make her small wish come true. Your heart clenched in your chest, gifting her a small and genuine compassionate smile, before you cornered Sosuke in the dark corridor.

“What are your intentions? What the Hell do you think you are doing?” you asked him, jabbing a finger at his sternum to emphasize your question.

“I am not doing any harm, detective”.

“You know very well what I am talking about. A cricket player, a stubborn horse, the hard taming deal. — you reminded him, gaze hardening just by watching him wearing a placid smile you had grown so familiar with — Quit it”.

Sosuke grinned “Oh, really? Whose fault is it? Were you not about to address me as a criminal? You never lose the habit of acting on your impulses. You truly are a feisty animal, after all” he taunted you, hand reaching for his eye-patch in the pocket of his trousers to latch it behind his nape and cover his eye.

You gawked, balling your hands into fists down your sides, nails digging onto your palms to resist the urge to slash his handsome face in the presence of an innocent child waiting for you to make her day.

“That’s what you are. — you hissed through gritted teeth, deciding to ignore the fact he was right to some extent — Now, before going back to Aoi, I will give you a small advice: don’t you dare to ruin her day out”.

Sosuke paused, glancing at the child playing with her plushie back in the living room. She was good-mannered, innocent. Not a complete nuisance “You are overprotective of that kid”.

“Her mother is a bitch. I have never seen her hug her daughter, or show affection to her. If I can somehow give Aoi a break, I am more than willing to do so” you explained, following his gaze with a softer tone accompanying your actions.

“You have a thing for misfits”.

You turned to look at him, furrowing your brows perplexedly “Excuse me?”.

“First, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra. Then Shuhei. This kid here and now me. You can’t blame me for thinking you have a tendency of taking care of broken hearts and outcasts” he said, not even bothering to look back at you, before sauntering back to Aoi to announce you were indeed going spend the day on the beach.

When Gin harshly tugged at the shackles binding your hands together, you stumbled forwards. It was a measure you had never been subjected to. Aizen had told you it was temporary, just to send a message to the ravenous army of Espada craving your head, or wanting to put their hands on you to reduce you to the brand new plaything of Las Noches.

He had sent Gin Ichimaru to pick you up from your quarters. You had never trusted that man, that sly, creepy grin of his sent frissons over your skin every time you bumped into him. He had almost killed you back in the Soul Society. If you had not died back then, it was for shameless luck and Aizen’s healing spells. You often wondered what would have happened to you, if the Captain crossing roads with you was not him. He had this different way of dealing with you, this certain respect you refused to believe was genuine, given his betrayal. Looking back at it, you were glad he had never actually tried to kill you. It was irrational, but you had a feeling he felt some connection with you. Perhaps, you were just being delusional.

“You are hurting me” you hissed, glaring up at the willowy man guiding you down the monotonous, sterile corridors of Las Noches. He was conducting you to Aizen and the former Captain of the Ninth Division to join the incoming meeting as a guest.

For some reason, Aizen had requested your presence. He had refused to abide to your plea to let you stay in your bedroom. He wanted you there and you surely did not wish for his wrath to rain down on you upon defying him further.

“Oh, I apologize! Aizen-sama will not be pleased to know I have bruised those wrists of yours, I guess. — he sang, his mawkish tone earning a snort from you — Shall I feel a sting of remorse for what I have done? I mean, hurting a sweet girl you don’t even know could be convicted as pretty mean by the mankind. Am I right?”.

You halted, realizing he had stopped walking as well. The ominous clink of the chains dragging along the polished floor underneath your feet contributed to set off a chilling atmosphere around you two. You could not see Gin’s face, but you could tell he was probably reminiscing something. There was a double-meaning he was masterly concealing behind his typical brisk monologues. You had a feeling there was a deeper intent and message behind those words spoken in a desolate area of the castle.

“Some men out there hurt people and don’t even bother apologizing. — he stated, whipping his head towards you — They kill, mutilate, do pretty gory actions to lonely, lovely girls. But you know, Kurosaki, today I’m in a good mood and, to be honest, I’m not quite as bad as you may think I am” he stated, before walking over to you and grasping your wrists to inspect the damage.

You straightened your back, allowing him to chant what you had learned was a healing kidō to mend the bruised skin. Now that he had stopped rambling, you wanted to hear more from him.

“What are you hinting to?” you boldly asked him.

Gin smirked “I was just philosophizing”.

“Did someone hurt—”.

“Thin ice, Y/N-chan. — he suddenly hushed you, his fox eyes opening even so slightly to pin you on the spot — You are lucky to have someone watching your back. To be honest, I would like to hurt you, but I can’t do it. Now, don’t take me for someone who would be devoured by regrets for having hurt a woman. The only regret I have is not having finished you back in the Soul Society”.

Your blood ran cold and you expected his blade to pierce your heart, but the moment he turned around and tugged at the chains again you felt glad this torture was over. The sooner you were in the company of your worst enemy, the better. Once again, you found yourself wishing he was there with you, because you were absolutely certain he would have never hurt you. This man here, however, was on another level. He wanted you dead and, despite some Arrancars and Espada had told you the same, you could feel all of his hatred blanketing you like snow covering the ground. There was a thirst for vendetta in his actions that made you freeze on the spot.

You were so vulnerable without your blade. You wondered when you would have been able to snatch it away. It had been two weeks without training. You could sense your sword calling for you, but you could not just enter Aizen’s quarters so easily. You, the older Kurosaki, the independent girl who had never relied on anyone, were hoping day and night for your brother to save you. But he never came. He was not there and, regrettably, you wished you had not so selflessly swapped places with Orihime Inoue. Lost into self-deprecation, you had not realized Gin had stopped walking until you ended up bumping onto his back.

Sighing, you distanced yourself from him, only to meet a pair of chestnut brown eyes already transfixed on you. Aizen Sosuke stood right before you, next to him Kaname Tosen. Chills ran down your spine, when Gin roughly pushed you towards him, but this time you did not trip, much to his dismay. Delicately, Lord Aizen grasped your chin, inspecting your face. He always did that, checking on you as if he really cared about your health. Usually, you knew better than protesting, but you already knew what was going to happen this time.

Two days without seeing him and you had a small purple bruise on your cheekbone. Your stomach churned, his eyes turning as cold as ice.

“Who?”.

“It’s not even visible. It doesn’t hurt” you replied, turning your head to the side to slip away from his fingers. Such a pity he roughly grasped your jaw harder, tipping your head up to force an unbearable eye-contact. There was no hiding from him, especially when the matter concerned your safety.

“Someone has dared to hurt my guest in my castle. I’m legitimized to demand you to give me a name” he stated calmly but firmly, the air around you shifting to gloomy and asphyxiating. Tosen and Gin tensed, awaiting for you to quench Aizen’s thirst for blood. Yet, you failed their expectations.

You were sick and tired of gory battles and violence. Nnoitra deserved pain and sufferings. However, this was not Aizen’s battle. This was yours. You had promised yourself to make that bastard pay for his arrogance and perverse sense of superiority with your own blade. But while Aizen would have taken his life, you aspired to simply put him back into place.

You shook your head “It doesn’t concern you”.

The man before you arched a dark eyebrow, his grip on your jaw loosening as he rested his hand on the top of your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze “Don’t play mind games with me. I perfectly know why you’re hesitating to reveal the culprit’s name. You just fear to witness to what I may do to him”.

His words resonated in your head as you pressed your lips together and scoffed, forcing yourself not to add more details, to confirm his inklings. The moment he was about to press you again with more questions, an Arrancar materialiazed a few feet away from you two. Eyes downcast, knees planted onto the ground, the Hollow belonged to the newly promoted lower ranks. His aura was far from threatening and you could actually sense distinct waves of terror radiating from him.

Aizen shot him a cold glance “Speak” his baritone voice commanded, just as he took a hold of the chains binding your hands together to nudge towards the exit.

“The Espada are assembled and waiting for you, Lord Aizen” the Arrancar meekly announced, but the sound propagating in the corridor as soon as he pronounced his last word made you zone out. What was that?

Bones breaking, organs exploding, maybe. All you knew, as Aizen walked you to the spacious living room, was that something viscous and crimson red colored was splattered over the wall and on your white, pristine dress. Blood, it was blood you could not wipe away from your clothes and face as he urged you away from the crime scene. You could feel it drip down the column of your throat, cling onto the luxurious fabric of the uniform as your eyes landed on the Espada inspecting you in sheer curiosity.

You kept your head high, spacing out, completely ignoring Aizen rambling about his plot schemes. What had just happened was nothing but him showing you what kind of treatment would have fallen upon the Espada who had harmed you.

To catch your attention was Aizen’s spiritual pressure bending Grimmjow’s knees, squashing him onto the ground. People snickered, amused by the scene as the man flexed his power on him. No, no, you could not allow any more violence, you could not withstand it.

Dashing before Grimmjow, shielding him from Aizen’s sight, you winced as the chain yanked you back towards your captor. Your skin burned where the metal unforgivingly bit your flesh, but you did the only thing that could have somehow granted Grimmjow enough strength to stand back up and breathe again: you unleashed your own spiritual pressure, letting it clash against Aizen’s one. There was no competition, but you really gave it your best shot. Blood dribbled from your nose, as you glanced at Grimmjow from above your shoulder to check on him.

“W-What the fuck are you doing? You idiot, move!” the Sexta Espada rasped out, panting, as he tried to push himself up. It was working, at least.

Murmurs echoed around you, comments on how foolish you were and about how they would have loved to watch you die for your impertinence. Instead, Aizen diminished the intensity of his spiritual pressure and you did the same. Your knees failed you, your eyes meeting his, before you slumped onto the cold floor and your vision darkened.

The horde of screaming, rowdy kids trotting around you on the beach made you almost regret having asked Aoi what she would have loved to do to spend the day. There were parents chatting in small groups, teenagers playing beach-volley and a few stalls selling toys and handmade floral decorations. The temperature was nice, the gentle breeze caressing your skin making the summer heat bearable. Holding her hand, you let the child guide you to explore the area, her cheerful laughter warming you up from the inside.

When she stopped by a giant yellow sign, pointing her finger at it, you blinked: ‘Wreaths competition! Do your best to win a limited edition Stitch’.

“I want to win the plushie! Please, please! Can you help me out?” Aoi begged you, turning towards you with such a puppy face you struggled to keep your composure. You had to killed the time somehow.

You were screwed. But you reminded yourself why you were doing it.

“Okay, okay. — you agreed, settling your hand over her head — Listen, while I attempt to create good garlands and crowns, why don’t you go play with Sosuke and collect some seashells? Maybe we can make some pretty necklaces too, later” you suggested, before shooting a subtle glance at Sosuke that implied he had to accompany her and protect the kid with his own life. It was a test, to be fair. You wanted him to show you that you could trust him a little bit.

He arched his eyebrow up, upper lip twitching imperceptibly but not escaping your hawk-eyes “Have fun with the flowers” he falsely muttered, before gesturing for Aoi to follow him down to the shore.

The sight of him walking side by side with the small kid made you faintly smile. It was the furthest thing from your imagination. Aizen Sosuke dealing with kids, babysitting them, controlling his hunger for power and cold indifference for the sake of a little child almost sounded like the beginning of a chilling horror story. However, you were willing to test the waters. Maybe, he was not the best choice to make, when it came down to pick a man to watch over kids, but he was surprisingly trying his best.

Down the shore, while Sosuke kept his eyes transfixed on the Ocean, Aoi began to choose the best seashells she came across in her exploration. Apparently, she had taken the task seriously. The special threat was not much bothered by her presence, as long as she just did her job silently. As he had already assessed back home, this human was well-behaved. Suddenly, however, she tugged at his trousers to draw his attention. Peace did not last long.

Sosuke averted his eyes from the crystal water and, arms folded over his chest, he looked down at the little girl “What’s the matter?” he asked, not bothering to adjust his tone of voice to a softer one.

“Why didn’t you kiss her when you walked away? You’re not very affectionate with her” Aoi piped out, making him stiffen up.

Oh, now the situation was getting interesting. The human child was questioning his relationship with Y/N. He knew that he had to be careful about what he said, especially since it would have been only fair to confront her before adding more details about their ‘love-story’. But Sosuke could perfectly handle the situation. He was not a fool and manipulating people had somehow been the key for his success. Playing a child was even easier, given their simple mind.

He cleared his throat, a small smile curving his lips “You see, she’s a little upset with me right now. I’m more than sure she wouldn’t appreciate my kisses at the moment” he lied, only for Aoi to shake her head and toss away in the water a chipped scallop.

“All girls like kisses! If you apologize and give her one she is going to forgive you” she mumbled, only for Sosuke to widen his eyes at her acute observation. Ah, she was not a fool.

“This is what happens in fairytales, though”.

“But she’s a princess! Look at her, she’s so beautiful!” Aoi insisted, tapping on his knee again and this time he could only follow her gaze.

When his eyes landed on you, he was pleasantly welcomed with a boculic and tender vision he had never even dreamed of in his whole life. Sitting with a group of women and their children, you were smiling softly as you held a baby in your arms. Your eyes shimmered in a light he had never seen before, as you playfully showed a pretty wreath to the newborn in your arms, soon settling it on the top of your head. You were the incarnation of kindness and to him you had always been some sort of a mindblowing enigma he could not solve. You looked so happy, so beautiful like that.

His mind wandered for a few moments, venturing in thoughts he had never keened to contemplate in his life. A child. You. A peaceful life. Your hips had always been his addiction. Even when he had finally had you pinned underneath him, Sosuke could not help himself but squeeze on them, caressing your hipbones with hunger.

A man who controlled himself like he did was a slave to such a primal and basic need. Why did he want to breed you? He would have loved watching his seed leak out of you again, just like in the Soul Society. Gosh, he could have done it again and again, fucking you until could not feel your legs anymore and your tummy hurt. He could give you the world, he would have kissed you from your lips to the valley between your legs, if only you let him in. How could you not understand it?

His cock twitched his pants and he gritted his teeth, his eyes straying away from you as he caught a glimpse of the baby tugging at the neckline of your dress.

He had to have you. Again. That night.

Still, the real problem was the Hōgyoku. It was true he had studied the abilities of that source of power and energy, however it was mostly uncovered what else it could do. Sosuke was almost certain the Hōgyoku had made him infertile, but what if, among the wills of its owner, that small device could also bend its powers to grant his seed to fertilize an egg cell?

When he heard you calling out their names, Sosuke ran his fingers through his hair and patted on Aoi’s head absent-mindedly “Let’s go, she’s looking for us”.

The small kid beamed and ran up to you, leaving Sosuke behind with his thoughts and the unfamiliar feeling of coveting the same things those mortal men had: a family. He was not husband material, he was a villainous man with too much ego to settle down and put his aspirations aside. Maybe, though, now he could have it. It was just a matter of when and with who. He never understood love, that feeling leaving people besotted with another being was foreign to him. Despite that, when he saw you hand the plushie to Aoi and pick her up to spin her around mid-air he was absolutely certain that, if he were to choose a woman to share his heart and life with, he would have always chosen you.

When you put Aoi down, she giggled and squeezed the giant Stitch to her chest, relinquishing the feeling of finally having what she had craved so badly. You felt a sense of fulfillment in seeing her happy. You had watched her pass by your door with a pouty face too many times not to make her day with such a small gesture. Glancing at Sosuke, you noted he was holding some seashells in his hands and a breathless chuckle left your lips. A melody he had yearned to hear for too long to forget how it sounded and how his heart had always picked up its rate whenever you laughed in his proximity.

“What’s so funny?” he inquired, before grasping your hand and putting the colorful shells onto your palm.

You shrugged and scrunched up your nose “Nothing. It’s just that… I didn’t expect you to carry the seashells for her. That’s nice”.

He rolled his eyes “She sprinted towards you as soon as you called for us. Also, I knew you would have not been pleased if I lost them”.

You hummed and nodded your head, before picking up Aoi and sighing. The flower wreath over your head shifted, almost slipping off and he was quick to catch it, positioning it back in its original place. You stilled, eyes widening even so slightly before he lowered his face enough to let your noses brush together and this small action stole your breath from your lungs.

“You look beautiful like that” he commented, but before you could even thank him for the unexpected compliment, your phone rang and the jig was up. You did not catch the gleam of disappointment darkening his eyes as you stepped away to answer your call. Still, you were genuinely surprised to find yourself missing a kiss that never lingered on your lips.

You spent most of the day at the beach. You had to admit something had changed between you and Sosuke. You began to impoperly see him as reliable, a mistake you could not forgive yourself for. You knew how foolish of you it was to esteem him as a good man. He was a murderer, a manipulator, a traitor, the devil himself. To keep him out of your head, you had resorted to busy yourself in teaching Aoi how to thread the flowers together, or how to do cartwheels. But when it came down to eat lunch together, you were forced sit on a bench right next to Sosuke. The couples passing-by with their kids attempted more than once to strike up cordial conversations with you two, while their children played around with Aoi. It was challenging keeping up that farse. Sosuke, on the other hand, was perfectly fine with shooting you adoring glances. Arm looped around your shoulders to pull you closer to him, small adventures invented about your encounters to feed the interlocutors an epic love story, you were hating him for depicting a good, healthy relationship you knew he could never establish with you.

With you! You felt so pathetic for even considering the possibility of dating him for real. In other life, in other universe though, if he was not a monster, you could have allowed yourself to fall irrevocably in love with him.

The last blow that made your stomach somersault was what Aoi told you, by the front door of her house when you accompanied her back home “I wish you two were my parents”.

That innocent way of declaring how loved she had felt with you two affected you more than you liked to admit. You had a quick dinner with Sosuke, barely talking to him, before you decided once again to isolate yourself in the privacy of your bedroom. Clutching the sheets in your hands, you laid face first onto your pillow and commiserated yourself for your stupid sensitivity. Weren’t those signs you just wanted someone to love you so desperately it hurt? You wanted to be loved and to love freely. But your life was too complicated for indulging into the delights of a couple-life.

A knock on your door brought you back to reality and you huffed in contempt, before rolling off of the bed and opening the door. Sosuke stood there, still fully dressed, beside the fact he had taken off his eye-patch and had undone some buttons of his white shirt. Mother nature had made him too handsome not to admire.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, but this belongs to you. — he stated, handing you the bag of the gift he had bought you yesterday — Given the fact I know no one else who could wear it besides you, I’m afraid you have no other option but to accept it” he observed, only for you to sigh and grasp the bag.

“Come in” you said, turning your back at him and allowing your villainous roommate to enter your bedroom. Years ago, it would have sounded reckless to let him inside such a private part of your house. But did it make some sense, considering you had practically slept in his arms yesterday night?

You sat on the edge of the bed, silence swallowing you two for some seconds, before you looked up at him and finally decided to show appreciation for the day “Oh, and… Thank you, I guess”.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just thought this would have complimented your skin”.

You shook your head “I’m not talking about the gift. Thank you for having been a decent person at beach. — you corrected him, nails peeling away the sticker keeping the bag closed — And for the flattery remark you reserved to me out of the blue” you added coyly.

He smirked, taking a seat next to you without asking for your permisioon “It may sound so out of character coming from me, but I genuinely meant it. You are beautiful” he insisted, stretching his legs before him.

Good thing you had occupied yourself with pulling the fine piece of cloth out of the bag. Your heart was skipping beats repeatedly, almost leaving you out of breath. You scrutinized the red silky nightgown in awe, letting the smooth fabric slip through your fingers to fully appreciate its consistency. To add class to the item was the generous neckline bordered with lace. He definitely had good taste, but you were damn sure he had probably purchased such a scandalous nightgown to mess with your head.

You cleared your throat, folding it with care before putting it back into the bag and settling it down at your feet “It’s really beautiful. — you stated then, uncapable of turning your attention to him — But don’t you think it’s somewhat daring?”.

“Are you offended?”.

“What? No! — you fretted, cheeks warming up — It’s just that … I don’t know if I’m confident enough to wear it” you admitted, shrugging as you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. Well, this was definitely not a conversation you expected to have with him, or with a man in general. It was not like you had zero self-esteem. Honestly, it was more due to the fact that with your chaotic life, you did not have a lot of occasions to dress up. Let alone wearing something so revealing in bed for someone.

Sosuke let your words sink in for a few moments, before shifting on his seat to face you properly “Show me”.

“What?” you quipped, goggling at him as if he had just shouted a blasphemy in the middle of the road.

“I said ‘show me’. — he encouraged you again, gesturing at the bag at your feet nonchalantly — If you don’t feel comfortable in it, I’ll buy you a new one”.

You chuckled, your reaction earning a baffled glance from him. He was trying to be kind, probably. Still, it sounded hilarious. Also, why did he want to buy you stuff? You could provide for yourself on your own. He stared at you, silently demanding an explanation to your behavior while you stood up, grasping the fine piece of cloth “Sorry, I … I just don’t see why it seems to be so important to you”.

“Because that’s a gift. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of it”.

“Since when you care about my feelings?”.

He was not liking where the conversation was going “Just go to change. Isshin did an horrific job with you”.

You rolled your eyes at him, complying to his request and going to the bathroom to try the damn nightgown…Only to realize you actually adored it. The color really complimented your skin. The fabric embraced your curves perfectly, smoothly cascading down your valleys, barely reaching your upper thighs. You felt your body on fire, the idea of presenting yourself to him like that made you press your legs together in a combination of embarrassment and arousal. Why, though? Did you have something to be ashamed of? Absolutely not. He had seen you fully naked before and you were dressed now. Poorly, but you were still not indecent.

Stalling would have only prolonged the agony. Swallowing your pride, you made your way back to him. His eyes, strangely warm tonight, immediately pinned you on the spot. Basking in your beauty, Sosuke did not move from where he was sitting. He watched you intently, impassible face to let you stew on your own juice. To break the ice was your voice.

“To be honest, I have never forseen myself giving you a défilé. — you stated, eyes downcast — Somehow, it’s even worse than… Uhm, nevermind, forget it”.

“It’s even worse than sex. Is that what you wanted to say?”.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, the sensation familiar to you after all the times he had read you like an open book. It was frustrating dealing with the only person in the entire universe you could not block out of your head. Nodding your head, you shrugged in defeat and turned on your heels to leave the room. Sosuke, on the other hand, was not done talking. Not yet.

“You look even better than I had imagined, you know?”.

“Oh, please, I don’t need a pep talk” you argued.

“Indeed. — Sosuke agreed, raising from his seat to amble towards you — I believe you just need to be reminded you are a woman. You need someone who boosts your ego for the power you possess over men” he reasoned, hitting a nerve you had been trying to ignore for too long. How long had it been since someone had really made you feel special, appreciate you in all your glory? Searching for the name of an individual who had empowered you to that length, well, you found no one.

And, sadly, before that little adventure with Sosuke, your last intercourse was with Shuhei. Something happened in the heat of the moment, not really unexpected, but there were not the strong feelings of the attentions you craved. He liked you, it was plain and simply. But what had he done to show you how much he cared, if after an argument he had disappeared without saying goodbye? Adding salt to the wound was not helping. Especially since all of that thinking was leading you to reminisce about Sosuke.

God, he really knew how to fuck you and blow your mind.

“I see you still have fun in playing the role of the psychologist” you sarcastically remarked, indulging him into whatever he was keening to achieve. Frissons skimmed over your naked shoudlers for the inklings you were getting. Once again, you were diving into dangerous situations.

“Tell me, when is the last time a man made you feel like you were on top of the world? Has someone ever worshipped your body?” he inquired, ignoring your sass and letting his eyes travel shamelessly down your body.

Gluttonous like a vulture, attentive like a golden eagle, Sosuke had cornered you without giving you enough time to realize it. You were always screwed, when it came down to him.

“You must be out of your mind, if you merely think I’m going to discuss my sex life with you. — you dissuaded him from illuding himself he could ask you more about your relationship, your feelings and private matters — Now, unless you’re a masochist who wishes to be kicked out of my bedroom, I’d like to get some sleep. Alone” you punctuated, indicating the door at your back with a tight smile on your lips.

You wished you had been more convincing, you wished he was not that close to you and that you had not given much importance to what you had felt with him that night and morning. You wished you had take another step back, that the moment he had trapped you between his body and the wall you had protested.

When you thought you could resist him, showing him you were not affected by his presence and avanaces, he knelt in front of you. His hands glided over your legs, cupping your calves, whilst he captured your gaze with his deep, almond eyes “Your words and gestures tells you don’t even know what I’m talking about and it’s a shame. — he said, fingers now tickling the back of your thighs while he let his nose graze against your lower belly tentatively — I won’t beat about the bush, I want to show you what it feels like to be lavished. Push me away now, Y/N, or I’ll begin” he lowly warned you, but your fingers threading through his soft strands did not yank his head back to yell at his face.

You gaped, uncapable to refuse him, to bring yourself to think straight. That passion you had felt with him, that level of pleasure had been obnubilating your mind for too long. You wanted it, you wanted him again. Wrong at the eyes of so many people, you instead began to see it as a mere stress relief. Even if you knew it was so much more. Why not giving in, then? Why not perseverating? Nobody had to know.

“Sosuke, if this shit leaves your mouth and becomes a dinner conversation, I’ll make you choke on your dick” you threatened him, legs finally spreading to give him more access to your clothed pussy.

He grinned, fingers hooking underneath the elastic band of your panties, tugging the item down until you kicked it off in a hurry “And giving up on the chance to fuck you to oblivion after arguments, or in stormy, depressing nights? You know me better than that” he crooned, hand lifting your right thigh to settle it on top of his shoulder, the access to your tight hole clenching around nothing much easier now.

You never had a man kneeling before you to give you oral. To think the closest thing to a God was currently lapping at your core in such a degrading position was electrifying. Yet, you were far from deeming yourself in a superior position. He still had the upper hand.

He hummed, head slipping underneath the skirt of your nightgown, as his tongue ran flatly over your velvet folds, fingertips digging onto the plush of your thighs. His warm tongue seeked your clitoris and twirled around it, testing your reaction. You felt ashamed of how loudly you moaned, of how you were grateful he was keeping you balanced above him, otherwise you would have surely tumbled down onto the floor. Mostly, though, you felt embarrassed by the spasmodic buckling of your hips, by the way your hands were pushing his head closer to your need in search for more friction. He had turned you into a madwoman.

He groaned and you straightened your back, flattenening it against the wall “I’m sorry!” you quipped, chest raising and falling erratic, stupidly thinking you had somehow hurt him.

You could not see his face, hidden by the gown, but you heard him rasp out an answer against your pubes “If you apologize again, I’ll stop”.

And no, you did not want him to stop, not when his fingers spread your puffy lips and he tickled the sensitive area around your opening with the tip of his tongue. You were going insane, body on fire under his ministrations, under the smoldering orgasm building up in your lower belly. You tried and failed to remember one time another man had pleasured you this much.

“Sosuke!” you cried out, mouth falling ajar as you lolled your head back against the wall.

He did not stop his onslaught on you. His voracious mouth licked, sucked, penetrated into you like that of a starving man. Your thighs were quivering, shaking violently, while you held him close to you and, dear God, if he was leading you to crave more than just that.

Only when you were on the edge of reaching your climax, he stopped. His breath was ragged, his face glistening in your arousal, while he stood back up and encircled you waist with his arms. You were panting, sweaty, whimpering in need as you kissed him passionately, not even thinking twice. Tongues danced together, while he held you close and you tasted yourself in his mouth.

He grinned against your lips “Do you feel that? That’s your taste. Men should bathe into it and feel like they’re reborn” he whispered, while you both stumbled towards your bed, falling onto it tangled in one.

And it was in that moment that something into you cracked. Aizen Sosuke could give you the world and that very night you were in for it.

AUTHOR NOTE.

My dear readers, I had said I didn’t want to split the chapter but I had to. Editing is as stressful as writing, trust me, and I could not do more than that. I will include the rest of the smut part in the next chapter! Please, let me know what you think about this!

Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Luce

TAGS: @pseudowho @seireiteihellbutterfly @onyxino @areyouflying @bakugosgirl01 @noirfan12 @velaenaa @skexxll

#aizen sosuke x reader #sosuke aizen x reader #aizen x reader #aizen sosuke smut #bleach smut #bleach x reader #hisagi shuhei x reader #shuhei hisagi x reader #kurosaki ichigo x reader #bleach #bleach tybw #ichimaru gin x reader #grimmjow x reader

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gojo-licious · 1 day

Text

Highest form of Love

Warnings: fem! reader, reader has a cold, mention of food, pet names (baby, pretty girl), fluff

Atsumu thinks he’s going to lose you forever. "Baby… I‘m so sorry." he cries out feeling like the world is caving in.

"Tsumu, what are you so sorry for?" You turn to face your boyfriend who is kneeing on the floor in front of your bed.

He wipes the tears from his eyes. "I made you sick and now you’re going to die! And it’s all because of me!"

You erupt into a giggle that is cut short by a cough. "Tsumie~, I will be fine in a few days. I only got a cold.“ You tuck yourself further into the blanket.

"Yeah, but when I got sick I felt like I was dying.“ he covers your shaking form with another blanke. He brushed the hair out of your face. "I can only imagine what you are feeling like right now, baby… and it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have cuddled you…" His eyes tear up from how horrible he feels.

Atsumu gets on to his feet all of a sudden. "Tsum-tsum, where are you going?“ you reach for him.

He sees your outstretched hand and takes it into his own. „I’m going to make you a soup. And you will feel so much better after eating. It always makes me feel better." Atsumu places a gentle kiss to your hand and tucks it under the blanket and makes sure to give you one of your plushies to keep you company.

Despite what many think, his brother isn’t the only one who can cook well. He isn’t as good, but he learned enough to make good meals.

His mother had taught him and his brother that taking care of the ones you love is the highest form of love and that’s why they need to be able to cook for themselves and others.

As Atsumu is preparing a meal for you, you doze off. The warmth the blankets provide lull you into a deep sleep. By the time he is done and plated everything, you still aren’t feeling any better. Your small nap didn’t help at all. „Tsumu! I’m sleepy~“

"I’m so sorry, baby, but you gotta eat." He carries you bundled up in your blanket to the living room. Atsumu sits you down and waits for you to try your meal and tell him if his hard work paid off. He thrives off of praise. You don’t make a move to pick up your spoon. „Baby… are you too cold to let your hand leave the blanket?“ he asks attentively.

„My arms are too heavy, Tsumu." He sees the tears in your eyes. Tsumu remembers being this sick so he doesn’t hesitate to pick up a spoon to feed you. "Shhh.. it’s okay. I get it. Here, I’ll feed you. And you can cuddle me too. If you want.."

He brings the spoon to your mouth. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees you start to eat.

"Thank you." You whisper out due to your throat hurting a little.

"That’s what boyfriends are for, pretty girl. I’m going to put you back on your bed. Do you need anything?“

"No, I’m just sleepy.“

"Okay, baby. Here’s some medication. And let’ hope you feel better when you wake up tomorrow.“ He places a soft kiss on your head and helps you get comfortable again.

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader fluff #miya atsumu x reader fluff #atsumu fluff #haiykuu x reader #haiykuu fluff #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x reader fluff #bunny writes <3 with love

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goquokka00 · 1 day

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Stray Kids on Weed

The Lee Know Strain In which the love of their life smokes the mary jane, and they give it a shot for the first time...

A Few Notes: This is purely just supposed to be funny and a joke. I've also never been high and while I am friends with those who have either tried weed or do weed on the regular, I only know so much. So please just bear with me and have a good laugh, okay? Okay. Love you guys ❤️❤️❤️

So I have this gut feeling that Minho's first experience with weed would be with an edible. Seeing as he loves cooking and all, and is also just scared that he could potentially fuck up his lungs if he did actually smoke, I feel like this would probably be the way that he would combat that.

It's not often that you bring home edibles, but when you do, Minho asks to try it. And surprise surprise, nothing happens at first. Why? Because it's an edible. Minho thought you were scamming him when he didn't feel anything happen in his system, but it all changed about 45 minutes later.

Stupid idiot.

That's what he got for not listening to you when you tried to explain that edibles take longer to kick in since you have to let the food and weed actually digest in your stomach. Maybe next time, he'll learn to listen to you and not claim that he had beaten god.

Now, once this high kicks in, I see Minho doing a complete and total 180 in his mood. He goes from having this cocky, cold, mischievous and honestly just closed off personality to being the most cuddly, happy, giggly, softest best boi you've ever met in your life.

He smiles more than you've ever seen in your entire life, he GIVES hugs instead of tolerating them and plotting your murder once you have him in your arms (Bangchan is lowkey jealous when he hears about that), he talks about how much he loves and appreciates his members, and even states that he cares for Hyunjin a lot more than he usually lets off.

Course, when you told him what he said once he was sober again, he threatened you that if you told anyone he'd air fry you until you were burnt. Ah, he's so in love with you...

I also have this sneaky suspicion that Minho would want to do things that he really shouldn't do when high. Things such as going to the gym, going out in public because he's an idol and if anyone saw him high he could be in a shit ton of trouble, cook, go and practice dance routines...y'know. The typical Minho stuff.

He'd go on and on and try to reassure you that he was fine, and that he wasn't that far gone. In reality, this poor baby can't even figure out how to zip up his coat.

Now do I think Minho would give weed more chances in the future? Maybe on very special occasions like after parties, but I really don't see him using it often. I think him finding out about how he gets really makes him worry about actually admitting to the fact that him and Jisung do, in fact, have a secret relationship and that he's his one true love. That, or the fact that he secretly wants to have a polyamorous relationship with both you and Jisung.

God only knows at this point.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

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blackenedsnow · 2 days

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Heyy, if you’re comfortable doing so could I please get some Beetlejuice x fem!reader who’s a single mom? Just pretty much him being soft and comforting letting her know she’s doing a good job etc? Thank you in advance 💕💕💕 can be a proper fic or headcanons I’ll let you decide xx

beyond it

WARNING: References to the stress of single motherhood

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Single Mother! Reader

NOTE: I absolutely loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request 💕💕

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice surprises you by being a source of comfort, helping you see that you’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.

It was late—too late for you to still be up. But as a single mom, you didn’t have the luxury of falling into bed as soon as the day ended. No, there were dishes to clean, laundry to fold, and tomorrow to worry about. And of course, your child had woken up twice already, needing reassurance from a nightmare.

You were running on fumes, slumped on the couch, your face buried in your hands. It felt like all you ever did was work. Just when you thought you could finally close your eyes and sleep, your thoughts picked up again—worrying about what needed to be done tomorrow, whether you were doing enough, whether your child was okay.

“Hey, dollface, rough night?”

This fucking guy.

That voice—raspy, familiar—cut through the fog of exhaustion like nails on a chalkboard. Beetlejuice. You didn’t bother looking up. He was probably lounging in his usual spot, perched on the armrest of your couch with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Go away, BJ," you muttered half-heartedly. "Not tonight."

The ghoul groaned dramatically. "Aw, come on! And here I thought we were past the whole 'piss off, Beej' stage of our relationship." You felt a cold presence next to you, then his hand—decaying yet surprisingly gentle—lightly brushed your shoulder. "I mean, after all the times I’ve stuck around, don’t I get any appreciation?"

You exhaled sharply, finally lifting your head. "Appreciation? For what, exactly?"

"For being a goddamn delight, babes!" Beetlejuice beamed, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms wide. "For hanging around when no one else does. Gotta say, not a lot of folks could handle a single mom with your level of stress."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile tugging at your lips. "If by 'hanging around,' you mean constantly being a nuisance, then yeah, sure."

Beetlejuice chuckled, his voice rough yet oddly soothing. His eyes, usually wild and manic, softened just a bit as they focused on you. “Ah, you love it. Don’t lie, babe.”

You shook your head, sinking deeper into the couch. "I’m just… tired, Beej. I'm really tired."

For once, he didn’t launch into another sarcastic quip. Instead, Beetlejuice shifted closer, his body language relaxed but attentive. “Yeah, I know. I can see it. You’ve been runnin' yourself ragged for, what, weeks? Months?”

Your eyes welled up, but you quickly blinked the tears away. “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There’s always something I’m missing, something I should be doing better.”

Beetlejuice’s hand rested fully on your shoulder now, his touch surprisingly solid. "Oh, come on, you're killing it out here, babe. You think your kid’s got it bad? They've got you. And lemme tell ya, you’re doing a hell of a job. Better than most."

You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Really? You think so?"

“Are you kidding? Babe, I see it. I see you juggling work, taking care of the kid, making sure they're happy. And yeah, it’s messy and chaotic, but guess what? They're fine. They're happy, ‘cause you’re busting your ass for 'em.” He leaned in a little closer, his expression for once free of mischief. “You’re doin' more than enough."

His words hit you hard, in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know why, but hearing it from Beetlejuice—someone who you never thought would care about anything—meant something. It eased the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest all day.

“I just don’t want to mess them up,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “They deserve better than… than this.”

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart." Beetlejuice’s voice softened. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “They've got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re not perfect—who the hell is?—but you're trying. And that's what matters. Trust me, when they grow up, they're gonna see that.”

You allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head against his chest. His suit smelled like a mix of dirt and decay, but there was something oddly comforting about the way he held you, like he was actually trying to be there for you, to support you in his own weird way.

“Hey, tell you what,” he said, his voice low. “Next time you feel like crap, I’ll stick around. We’ll cause some shit together, huh? Might help take the edge off.”

You chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

Beetlejuice grinned, but it wasn’t the mischievous, cocky smirk you were used to. It was softer, almost tender. “You’re doin' good, doll. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise.”

You looked up at him, and for the first time since he’d shown up in your life, you realized how much you appreciated him. Not just as the obnoxious ghost who wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, but as someone who—despite his crude humor and questionable ethics—actually cared. Maybe not in the typical way, but in a way that mattered.

"Thanks, Beej," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the exhaustion finally catch up to you. "I mean it."

Beetlejuice stayed quiet for a moment, just holding you close. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

#beetlejuice #keatlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #keatlejuice x reader #beetlejuice movie #x reader #oneshot #ask #request #fanfic

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yelenasdiary · 20 hours

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Omg your requests are open lol

I humbly ask for something adorable and fluffy for BuckyNat x R. Like maybe just some cute domestic activities after the three of them have been super busy and they're finally able to catch up with each other and just be together 💕

Bonus points for including Alpine and Liho

Free Time

Pairing: BuckyNat x Fem! Reader

Summary: After what felt like months, you and your partners finally had a week off from work, allowing you all to enjoy some much-needed quality time.

Fluff

Warnings: None | 1.1K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: I love me some BuckyNat! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy it x

You couldn't help the soft smile that tugged at your lips as you stirred the butter chicken sauce to keep it from burning. You'd been waiting for this night since Fury said that everybody is to take a little break from work to relax and recharge. This meant that you would finally be able to have some much-needed quality with your partners.

Bucky and Nat were doing some last-minute mission reports before clocking off for the week, meaning you had the perfect window to cook them dinner. Cooking was one of your favorite hobbies, you loved cooking for people but mostly you loved cooking for Nat and Bucky.

Your shared apartment smelled like an Indian restaurant, which only made you even more hungry. Your favorite playlist played softly in the background while you danced around the kitchen, grabbing plates and glasses from the cupboard before setting the table. You couldn't wait for them to come home and be able to enjoy a home cooked meal and a movie on the sofa with Alpine & Liho head butting for pets.

Nat & Bucky came home just as you had finished dishing up the butter chicken, rice and naan bread as if the smell lured them home to you. "Something smells good detka!" Nat smiled softly before she gently pulled you in for a kiss. Bucky following behind her, "butter chicken? my favourite!" He chipped in, placing a kiss on your cheek.

"Well, before you even think about sitting at the table, you need a shower! You smell" you chuckled, noticing he was in his gym clothes that had a noticeable sweat stain at his collar.

"Yes ma'am" he winked before making his way to the bathroom.

"How was your day?" Natasha asked as she wandered into the living room to kick off her shoes. You placed the dishes on the dining table and took a seat, waiting patiently for your lovers to join you. "It was boring but Alpine, Liho and I had a pretty fun game of laser!" You replied.

“Ah, that would explain why they’re basically passed out” Nat chuckled lightly.

After a dinner full of conversations and laughs, you and Nat allowed Bucky to pick the first movie. It was no surprise that he had picked The Godfather. You sat between Nat and Bucky, Nat rested her head on your shoulder while Bucky wrapped an arm around the two of you and soon enough, Alphine and Liho woke up, jumping up onto the sofa to be sure they wouldn’t miss out on any snuggles.

----

The next morning, Liho woke you by jumping up onto the bed and headbutting you for a morning pet. The bed was empty, making you frown slightly at the loneliness of being in such a big bed by yourself. You gave the cat a good pat before you slipped out of bed and wrapping your night gown around your body.

“You know, I’m never going to let it down that you burned pancakes” Bucky chuckled as he poured maple syrup over his stack of 4. Hearing his comment to your girlfriend made you smile softly knowing they were still here, “Nat, don’t tell me you actually burned pancakes” you chipped in.

Natasha playfully rolled her eyes, “it was Alpines fault, she almost knocked the batter over” she said, defending herself.

“Sure, sure” you teased before taking a seat next to Bucky at the dining table. “Good morning doll, did you enjoy your sleep in?” He asked. “You guys could’ve woke me” you reached for the plate of pancakes.

“You looked so peaceful though and you did cook the best butter chicken I’ve ever had, take it as my gift to you!” Bucky smiled.

“Besides, we don’t have any plans until late this afternoon” Nat added, taking a mouthful of pancake. “What plans?” You questioned with a cocked brow.

“It’s a surprise” Bucky replied.

“Oh, come on! you know I can’t handle knowing there’s a surprise coming!”

Both Nat and Bucky chuckled, “and you should know just how much we love to tease you” Nat said.

After breakfast, the three of you went grocery store. Natasha pushed the cart while Bucky and you ticked items off the shopping list. His hands interlocked with yours as the three of you walked up and down each aisle, “come on baby, tell me what the surprise is” you said in an almost whisper so Nat couldn’t hear. If anybody was easy to break a secret, it was Bucky.

“Sorry, doll, no can do” he smiled before placing a kiss on your temple. You sighed playfully while you racked your brain for any idea of what might be the surprise they’re holding from you.

“I think that’s everything” Bucky spoke, looking back at Natasha before the three of you headed for the checkout.

After that, it was a quick drive home to unload and pack away the groceries then back out again for a little late lunch before it was off to the surprise date that Bucky and Nat had in mind for you. Nat gently put a blind fold on you once the car had come to a stop, “guys, I’m nervous!” You said as Bucky took your left hand and Nat took your right, helping to guide you.

“Just a little longer, I’ll love it!” Bucky’s voice eased your nerves but made you more excited for what was planned. You felt like you were stomping your feet as your lovers led you to a stop eventually, “ready detka?” Nat questioned.

“Yes!” You replied with excitement. Slowly, Bucky removed your blind fold to reveal a large hot-air balloon in front of you. “Surprise!” Bucky and Nat said in sync. A date on a hot-air balloon had been on your bucket list since you could remember. Your smile grew bigger as you turned to face your lovers.

“No way!!!” You almost jumped with happiness before hugging them both tightly.

“Anything for you doll! We’ve had this planned for weeks” Bucky smiled.

“Are you sure this isn’t because I made you one of your favourite meals?” You joked. Nat lent forward and whispered, “that’s exactly why” she chuckled.

“I thought so!”

----

The views from the hot air ballon were better than you could ever image, the wind softly blowing through your hair as while Bucky had his arms wrapped around you, Natasha snapping a phot of the two of you before turning the camera to selfie mode just to capture a photo to add to the photo albums.

You gently pulled Natasha closer, gently kissing her deeply. “This is beautiful, thank you” you smiled softly, “Like Bucky said detka, anything for you” she smiled softly.

~~~~

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #mostlymarvelsstuff #fanfiction #marvel #buckynat x reader #bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #bucky barnes

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bimbo-baggins17 · 2 days

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Brooo—- fuck I’ve had a shitty day, like ok so this is what I’ve been thinking. Like Hayden is dating like an 18/19 year old starting college and she’s having a rough semester so he goes and surprises her at her dorm with flowers and food and everything and then they make like soft love (the first time) and she falls asleep all wrapped up in his arms 😭😭😭😭

IM SO FUCKING DELUSIONAL RN

Anyways I hope you’re having a good day lovie 🫶🏻

First, I’m sorry your day’s been shit lovey:(

This is so perfect though. He’d try to be more incognito when coming to visit your campus cause the last thing he needs is for his face plastered everywhere with the tabloids spilling that he was seen on a college campus. Imagine the scandal for him. He’d make sure to bring your favorite flowers and food to surprise you after you ranted about your awful day/days through text.

He never got a college experience so this is the closet thing he’d get. He’d probably make some lame dad joke too at some point about being in your dorm or something about giving it the good ol’ college try. You convinced your roommate to give you the room for the night cause your boyfriend was over (leaving out the part about who he is).

He’d pepper soft, sweet kisses all over your face, holding you close as he thrusted into you. He’d make sure to go slow and be gentle for you but also partially so the bed isn’t creaking too loud and drawing the ra’s attention. Having a guy in your room past certain hours is one thing but to have it be a 40-some year old man who isn’t your father? Hayden would whisper sweet little things about how good you were doing, how well you were taking him. Afterwards he’d keep you tucked into his side on the small bed, letting you sleep on his chest.

In the morning, the rising sun peeking in through your window wakes him and he presses soft kisses to your face to wake you up gently. He’d have to slip out before the whole campus was up and able to catch him. But he promises he’d be back as soon as he could be.

Hope your day gets better! <3

#rain answers ˚₊‧꒰ა 🌧️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚#thanks for the message!#moots!<3 #hayden christensen #hayden christensen fluff

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ducktoo · 2 days

Text

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

10. Day off becomes show off

Note: hope you know how to fight

(Side note: i fcking love this gundam armoured aespa fr)

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow over the dorm as Y/n checked his phone. As usual, his mind was prepped for the day’s chaotic schedule, expecting back-to-back appointments, rehearsals, and meetings. But as he scrolled through the group’s calendar, something strange caught his eye.

No rehearsals. No interviews. No photoshoots.

A day off?

Y/n blinked. It had been ages since they’d had a full, unscheduled day since MAMA, and for a moment, he didn’t believe it. After double-checking to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

This was the perfect opportunity to give the girls a break—away from the stress and cameras.

Throwing on a hoodie, he knocked on each dorm room door, rousing the group from their sleep.

“Wake up, everyone! I’ve got something planned.”

Giselle was the first to emerge, hair sticking out in all directions, still wrapped in her blanket. She rubbed her eyes groggily. “Is it breakfast? Tell me you made pancakes…”

Y/n chuckled. “Not quite. But get ready. We’re going to the park. I made a lunch basket for us.”

The reaction from the rest of the members was similar—confused but intrigued. Winter poked her head out from her room, eyes half-closed. “A park? What are we, in a drama? And why is it sound romantic” She yawned loudly.

Karina followed suit, still looking half-asleep. “A park sounds… nice, I guess?”

“Hey, we can't just stay indoors when the sky is this nice.” Y/n grinned, clapping his hands together. “Now, let’s get moving.”

An hour later, the group found themselves standing at the entrance of a quaint city park. It wasn’t grand or flashy, just a small, peaceful spot nestled away from the usual bustling city life. A winding path led to a pond, ducks paddling lazily in the water, and a few bicycles stood nearby, available for rent.

“A park, really?” Winter raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “This was your big plan?”

Giselle stretched, taking in the scene. “I’m not complaining. It’s nice to have some quiet time.”

Y/n held up a tote bag filled with snacks. “Look, we’ve been running around nonstop for weeks. A relaxing day in the sun will do us all some good.”

Karina eyed him suspiciously. “What kind of snacks?”

Y/n smirked, pulling out bags of sandwiches. “The good kind.”

That seemed to do the trick. With renewed enthusiasm, the girls grabbed a few bikes from the rental stand, gearing up for a leisurely ride along the park’s paths. Y/n followed, feeling confident this would be a simple, peaceful day.

Well, until Ningning almost ran over a duck.

“Watch it!” Y/n called out as the youngest member veered off course, narrowly avoiding the waddling creature.

“I swear these bikes are taller than I remember!” Ningning complained, trying to steady herself. “Or maybe I’ve gotten shorter?”

Meanwhile, Karina wobbled dangerously as she tried to pedal forward, clearly struggling. “I think I forgot how to ride one of these things…”

Before Y/n could offer help, he was too busy dealing with his own issues. As soon as he pushed off, his bike’s front wheel jerked violently to the side, and he lost his balance, crashing into a nearby bush. The sound of his spectacular wipeout echoed through the park, causing an eruption of laughter from the girls.

“Nice strike, Y/n!” Giselle called out, barely able to contain her giggles. “You’re really setting a great example for us!”

Y/n groaned as he disentangled himself from the bush. “Okay, fine. Maybe I suck.”

It took a few minutes—and a lot more laughter—but eventually, they all managed to get moving smoothly. The group cycled leisurely along the park’s paths, the fresh air and rare freedom lifting their spirits. Despite the shaky start, the atmosphere was light and carefree.

At one point, Giselle and Winter challenged each other to a race, leaving the others trailing behind. Y/n, never one to back down, joined in—only to accidentally steer himself and Giselle straight into a patch of tall grass, much to the amusement of Karina and Ningning, who were practically in tears laughing.

“Maybe stick to managing, Y/n,” Karina teased as he pulled his bike free from the grass.

“So mean, Jimin” Y/n grumbled, but he couldn’t help grinning. “I’m just warming up.”

After a while, they parked their bikes near the duck pond and wandered over to feed the ducks. Y/n handed out snacks, though he wasn’t entirely sure feeding crackers to ducks was the right move.

Karina tossed a few pieces into the water, watching as the ducks swam around, fighting over the crumbs. “You’re supposed to give them bread, right?”

“I think we’re not supposed to give them anything, actually,” Y/n replied, scratching his head. “But... they seem happy enough.”

"Yea, they're the presences of their own kind." Winter joked. "Idiots…"

"I heard that, crybaby."

The group spent a good portion of time by the pond, laughing at the antics of the ducks. One particularly clumsy duck kept missing the food, prompting Ningning to point and say, “That one reminds me of Y/n.”

"See? I told you Ning." Winter chimed in, clearly amused by the comparison.

Y/n rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t stop smiling. For the first time in a while, it felt like they could just be themselves, without the constant pressure of schedules, rehearsals, or fans.

Well, except for one fan.

His eyes landed on a figure standing not too far away, partially hidden behind a tree. The person was wearing a hoodie, the hood pulled up over their face. It could’ve been anyone—a park visitor, maybe—but the way they lingered, half-concealed, raised alarm bells.

Y/n’s stomach tightened. He’d seen this kind of behaviour before. Sasaeng.

“Everything okay?” Karina asked, noticing his shift in demeanour.

Y/n kept his voice low, not wanting to alarm the rest of the group. “Don't wanna scare you, but there’s someone following us. Don’t look, he’s at 5 o’clock ”

Karina’s expression darkened. “Sasaeng?”

“Probably,” he confirmed, his eyes never leaving the figure.

Karina let out a frustrated sigh, clearly fed up with the constant intrusion on their privacy. “Can’t we just have one day? Just one?”

Y/n nodded grimly. “Unfortunately, no. But I’m going to check on him.”

Karina hesitated. “Be careful. Some sasaengs... they don’t exactly handle being confronted well.”

Y/n glanced over his shoulder, noticing that the figure had gotten closer. It was now or never. “Ehhh..I’ll be fine. Just stay here with the girls.”

As he approached the sasaeng, his heart raced, but he kept his voice calm and steady. “Hey, my guy, can I help you with something?”

The figure stiffened but didn’t move. Up close, Y/n could see they were holding a phone, angled just enough to capture footage of the group from a distance.

“I’m just a fan,” the person mumbled, their voice muffled under the hood. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

Y/n clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to escalate the situation, but he also couldn’t let this slide. “Hey hey hey, I understand you’re a fan, and that’s fine. But right now, the girls are trying to enjoy some time off. This is their personal space. Please respect that.”

The sasaeng’s eyes flashed with something Y/n couldn’t quite place—frustration? Defiance? Either way, they didn’t budge. “I’m not leaving. I just want to see them.”

Y/n’s patience was running thin. “I understand, but they just want a breather from the public for today. Please don’t make this a bigger deal than it needs to be.”

The tension hung thick in the air, and for a moment, Y/n wasn’t sure if the sasaeng was going to back down. But then, with a huff of annoyance, they turned and started walking away, though Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t done.

He returned to the girls, who had been watching the whole exchange from a distance. Karina must've told them.

“Did they leave?” Giselle asked quietly.

“For now,” Y/n replied, though his gut told him this wouldn’t be the last time they saw that particular fan.

Winter’s expression softened. “You handled that well, you know.”

Y/n shrugged, trying to play it off. “Part of the job.”

When the fun resumed, Ningning was busy trying to feed a particularly stubborn duck while Giselle and Karina lounged on the grass, seemingly forgetting tension that had just passed.

“You good?” Karina asked, her tone casual, though Y/n could tell she was watching him closely. "You've been tense since that happened."

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “Everything’s fine.”

But as the day went on, Y/n couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that they were being watched. Every now and then, he’d glance over his shoulder, half-expecting to see the sasaeng again.

It wasn’t until they were packing up to leave that he caught another glimpse—this time, from a different part of the park. The same hooded figure, lurking in the shadows, watching them.

Y/n’s stomach twisted. That guy hadn’t left.

As they piled into the van, he made a mental note to stay vigilant. Today had been fun, but he knew the peaceful days were always short-lived when it came to protecting the girls.

As the van pulled away, Karina, sitting next to him, gave him a sideways glance. “You think we’re safe?”

Y/n forced a smile. “We’re always safe... as long as I’m around.”

"Damn, Oppa is confident now." Ningning teased.

"That's how I blitz through things, Ning-ah."

But deep down, he knew things were getting more complicated. Being their manager was more than just keeping track of schedules and rehearsals. He had to protect them, even on their days off.

And something told him that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d face off with that sasaeng.

The fan meet was supposed to be the highlight of the week—one of those heartwarming moments where aespa could connect directly with their fans.

However, things were rarely so simple for Y/n.

The chaos of his daily life as the group’s manager had become his new normal, but today was different. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, a gnawing anxiety he couldn’t quite shake.

It wasn’t just the usual nerves, either. Ever since the incident at the park with the sasaeng, Y/n had been on high alert, his senses sharper than ever. Though the obsessive fan hadn’t made a direct reappearance, there were subtle signs—cryptic messages left on social media, strange accounts following aespa’s every move, and more importantly, a lingering presence. Y/n knew they hadn’t been forgotten.

It already has issued into SM, but Y/n was still definitely on high alert.

Still, today was about the fans. The usual logistics of organizing a fan meet were challenging enough, but this time, Y/n had to be even more vigilant. He’d personally gone through each gift from the fans, carefully making sure there were no suspicious items. Everything seemed to be in order, and the meet was progressing smoothly.

The girls were laughing, chatting with their fans, and signing albums while cameras flashed, capturing every moment. Y/n was supposed to be standing off to the side, handling minor hiccups as they came. But the real trouble began when the gifts started piling up backstage.

“Y/n, can you help me move these?” one of the staff members called out, struggling with a box of gifts that had been left near the entrance. Y/n nodded, quickly setting aside his tablet and running to help.

The problem? He hadn’t exactly been paying attention to where the gifts were being taken.

Somewhere between moving boxes and juggling event logistics, Y/n realised he had lost track of the pile of fan gifts meant to be distributed to aespa later. By the time the fan meet was in full swing, fans were asking about their gifts, only for Y/n to feel a rising sense of panic as he scanned the backstage area, the gifts nowhere in sight.

“Where are they?” he muttered to himself, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

Giselle, noticing his distress, sidled up to him with a teasing grin. “Lost something, Y/n?”

"…maybe?"

"Oh." Giselle replied nonchalantly. "Surely not the fan gift right?"

He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “I may or may not have misplaced the gifts... all of them.”

Giselle let out a snort of laughter, causing Ningning, who was standing nearby, to join in. “Seriously? All of them? Haven't seen you messed up majorly for a while.”

Y/n groaned. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But this is bad. The fans are going to freak out.”

Ningning shook her head, still giggling. “Don’t worry about it. Fans love sitcoms—it’s relatable. They’ll probably get a kick out of it. You know, seeing their gifts disappear into the void, never to return.”

Y/n managed a weak smile, appreciating their attempts to lighten the mood. “You’re probably right. Still... this is not my best image yet.”

The girls, seeing how genuinely stressed he was, huddled around him in support. “Don’t sweat it,” Karina said, giving him a reassuring nudge. “We’ve dealt with worse. Besides, the fans are here to see us, not obsess over some missing gifts.”

"Confident much?"

"Someone did say that's how he blitz through life." Karina mocked. "Now I thought about it, it was you, Y/n"

He appreciated their positivity, but the uneasy feeling in his chest refused to go away. The gifts were one thing, but his gut told him that something far more sinister was on the horizon.

As the fan meet began to wind down, Y/n made his rounds, keeping a watchful eye on the crowd. Most of the fans were energetic and cheerful, thrilled to be interacting with aespa, but he couldn’t help scanning for any suspicious faces.

That’s when he saw the guy.

Near the back of the room, hidden among a cluster of fans, was the same hooded figure from the park. His blood ran cold. It was the sasaeng, and they hadn’t come empty-handed.

"Guards on standby, we got a Code S." Y/n talked over the radio. "Please don’t cause a scene and find him."

Without causing a scene, Y/n subtly moved closer, positioning himself between the sasaeng and the girls. As he did, he noticed something glinting under the sleeve of the sasaeng’s hoodie—a knife.

His heart skipped a beat, and the world seemed to slow down. This is it.

Y/n had been trained for situations like this (he said trained, but he only had a taekwondo certificate a while ago), but nothing could truly prepare him for the moment it actually happened. He quickly scanned the area, assessing his options. Security wasn’t close enough to intervene immediately, and he didn’t want to alarm the fans or the group.

With a deep breath, Y/n locked eyes with the sasaeng. “Hey, you, nice seeing you again,” he called out, his voice steady but firm. “I need to talk to you.”

The sasaeng’s eyes darted to Y/n, and for a split second, Y/n saw it—the sheer obsession, the dangerous mix of admiration and delusion. The sasaeng clutched the knife tighter, their knuckles white.

"Ah fcking damn it…" Y/n muttered.

There was no time to wait for backup.

Y/n lunged forward, grabbing the sasaeng by the arm. The fan reacted immediately, swinging the knife wildly in his direction. He narrowly dodged the blade, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he wrestled the weapon from their grasp. The crowd hadn’t yet noticed the struggle, too focused on aespa.

The sasaeng fought back, landing a punch to Y/n’s side, but he didn’t let go. He managed to twist the fan’s arm behind their back, forcing the knife to clatter to the ground. Finally, security rushed in, pulling the sasaeng away and detaining them.

Panting, Y/n stood there, clutching his side, still trying to process what had just happened. The girls had noticed by now, their faces pale with shock. Ningning and Giselle were the first to rush over.

“Oppa! Are you okay?” Ningning asked, her eyes wide with concern.

Y/n nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah... yeah, still alive.”

The fan meet was quickly wrapped up after that, with security escorting the sasaeng out and the remaining fans ushered toward the exits. The event had been going so well until that moment, and the sudden chaos left everyone rattled.

Later, in the safety of their van, the girls were silent, the weight of what had happened hanging in the air. Winter was whimpering after her intense bawling from worrying about her childhood friend. Y/n could just only chuckle at his adorable best friend.

“You saved us,” Karina finally said, her voice quiet but full of gratitude. “That could’ve been so much worse if you hadn’t been there.”

Y/n shook his head, still processing everything. “I was just doing my job.”

But the gravity of what he’d done wasn’t lost on anyone, least of all him.

The next day, Y/n rolled out of bed with a groan. His body still ached from the scuffle with the sasaeng, and while he wasn’t one to complain, the dull throb in his side was a constant reminder of yesterday’s chaos. He stretched, wincing slightly, before getting ready for the day.

Today was supposed to be business as usual—another trip to the SM building for rehearsals and meetings—but nothing about this day felt normal. After all, it wasn’t every day that you made headlines for tackling an obsessed fan. And while Y/n wasn’t exactly thrilled about the attention, he knew it was inevitable. He’d been in the industry long enough to know how fast news spread, especially when it involved something as dramatic as a knife-wielding sasaeng.

When he met up with the girls during breakfast in the living area, they were already buzzing with energy. Kind of wild that they moved on from the incident that quickly.

Ningning grinned at him, clearly enjoying the spotlight this incident had brought to their usually quiet manager.

“Ready for your big day, supernova?” she teased, nudging him as they walked toward the van.

Y/n shot her a look, shaking his head. “Please, no, Ning. Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

“Too late,” Giselle piped up from behind, her voice full of amusement. “The whole building’s probably talking about you right now. Yunjin and Somi is gushing in the gc at the moment.”

As much as Y/n wanted to protest, he knew she was right. Ever since the news broke, he’d been flooded with messages—both from fans and people in the industry. It was surreal, really. He’d never expected to be at the centre of attention, especially not for something like this.

When they arrived at the SM building, the atmosphere was different. Usually, the bustling halls were full of staff going about their daily business, but today, there was an undeniable buzz in the air.

As soon as they stepped inside, heads turned. The receptionist, who usually gave them a polite nod, smiled broadly at Y/n, her eyes twinkling with admiration. “Good morning, hero,” she greeted him, her tone playful.

Y/n blushed, ducking his head awkwardly. “Morning…"

The teasing only got worse as they moved through the building. Other managers, particularly Minji and Joon, came up to him, clapping him on the back and offering words of congratulations.

“Hey, Y/n! Saw the news—man, that was some serious balls. How are you feeling?”Joon asked, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Y/n mumbled, trying to downplay it. “Just... doing my job.”

“Doing your job?” Minji laughed. “You tackled a guy with a knife! I’d say that’s a bit more than your typical day’s work.”

Before Y/n could respond, a familiar voice called out from behind him. “There he is—the man, the myth, the legend!”

Y/n turned to see Taeyong and Mark from NCT walking toward him, grinning from ear to ear. Taeyong immediately pulled him into a friendly hug, his eyes twinkling with pride. “We saw what happened, Y/n. That was insane. Are you sure you’re not secretly an action movie star or something?”

Mark nodded enthusiastically, his smile wide. “Dude, you’re like the coolest manager now. Everyone’s talking about how you saved the day.”

Y/n’s face flushed with embarrassment. “I secretly invested my stats in strength.”

But the teasing didn’t stop there. As they made their way up to the practice rooms, other idols—some Y/n had trained with back in the day—came up to him with wide grins and playful jabs. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

The final straw came when they passed by one of the SM rookies who was clearly too shy to approach him directly. The young trainee whispered to their friend, their eyes wide with awe as they looked at Y/n. “Is that him? The manager who stopped the sasaeng? He looks so cool...”

Y/n sighed, shaking his head as the girls stifled their laughter. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but there was no escaping it. He had become the talk of the building, whether he liked it or not.

By the time they reached the practice room, Y/n was ready to crawl into a hole and hide. But the girls, ever perceptive, noticed how uncomfortable he was and rallied around him.

“Look,” Karina said, giving him a rare smile, “you might hate the attention, but we’re really grateful for what you did. That was seriously brave.”

“Yeah,” Winter added, her voice soft but sincere. “You're maybe an idiot, but you were genuinely cool back there.”

Ningning, of course, couldn’t resist adding her own playful twist. “Plus, now you’re famous! Maybe you’ll get your own fanbase.”

Y/n groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Please, no fanbase. That’s the last thing I need.”

But despite his protests, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. The girls’ words meant more to him than any praise from strangers. They were the ones he had sworn to protect, after all.

As they settled into their rehearsal, Y/n leaned back against the wall, watching the group with a small smile. The chaos of the past few days had been overwhelming, but it had also solidified his place in their lives. He wasn’t just their manager anymore—he was part of their family.

Just as he thought things had finally calmed down, the door to the practice room burst open, and Seulgi from Red Velvet, his bias, poked her head in. “Ya, Y/n! Heard you’re the building’s new hero! When’s the movie adaptation coming out?”

"Seulgi-noona, not you too…"

The girls burst into laughter as Y/n groaned again, knowing he’d never live this down.

But deep down, he didn’t mind. He faced down a knife-wielding sasaeng, after all. He could handle a bit of teasing.

#aespa #aespa x reader #kpop #aespa giselle #aespa karina #aespa ningning #aespa winter #karina #ningning #giselle #aeri uchinaga #ning yizhuo #yoo jimin #kim minjeong #x reader #winter #aespa x you #aespa x male reader

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 3 days

Note

Humbly here to request my weekly sentences :)

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️ I am SO intrigued by this idea

YAY!

45 for 🧟:

---

“It looked like a singular flashlight,” Maddie explains.

“Maybe it’s just someone looking around,” Hen says.

Because she hopes. Because she worries about the alternative. Because she needs for there not to be a threat to her son.

“Right, yeah,” Maddie nods. “Like a scavenger. Or a traveler. I’ve been there.”

“We don’t know,” Bobby decides. “And we’re not going to panic until we do. A handful of us can go scouting tomorrow.”

Hen is almost certain that includes her. Good. She’ll make sure Karen stays behind with Denny, where it’s safe.

“Sounds like a plan,” Karen says.

“I’ll take the first stakeout shift,” Bobby announces.

“I’ll join you,” Athena offers.

“I appreciate that,” Bobby replies.

And that’s that. It’s settled. They have a plan.

Having a plan always makes Hen feel better. Not totally better, but less bad. The worst is being in a predicament and not knowing what next move to make. At least this isn’t that. Yet.

But, still… Hen would be lying if she said she gets much sleep that night.

September 8th, 2018

Denny is overflowing with joy in the morning. A few days of playing with boys his own age and he’s pretty much descended into being a total rascal. But compared to a child that only had adults for company and seemed a bit too old for his age, Hen will take a bit of mischief and silliness any day.

“What if something terrible happens?” Hen asks her wife quietly as they get ready for the day. “Denny is finally getting to be a normal kid.”

“I don’t know if this is normal,” Karen says, looking across the room to where Denny and Christopher are playing Connect 4. “But, yeah… I know. I can’t stop thinking, Eddie left his kid here. He trusted Maddie and all of us. Now what if when he gets back…”

God, Hen hadn’t even considered that.

“I hope they get back soon,” Hen mumbles. “We could use numbers and weapons on our side, just in case.”

---

60 for ❄️:

---

Basically, Eddie can’t be blamed for any of this. He’s free of guilt. He didn’t mean to… Well, do anything.

Really, all he wanted to do was be less of a fucking mess.

“I think group therapy would benefit you,” Frank says, one session in late June.

Christopher is still gone and Gerrard is still captain and life still pretty much sucks. Every day just feels like an endless loop of fucking shit.

“You firing me, Frank?” Eddie asks. “Took you longer than expected, actually.”

Eddie’s been doing that a lot lately. The whole sarcasm thing. More than usual. And not just to Frank. He’s even begun to make tiny, biting comments in Buck’s direction. Which is completely unfair of him because all Buck is doing is supporting him. Just… Well, sometimes Eddie doesn’t know what else to say when… When things are brought up.

Frank smiles patiently. “I think group therapy would benefit you, in addition to our sessions together.”

Eddie blinks. “Twice the amount of therapy? Extra people? I don’t know.”

Frank nods. “Yeah, it’s not most people’s favorite idea at first. But the feedback is usually pretty good.”

“Why would I need a group?” Eddie asks. “These problems… They’re pretty specific to me.”

Though, if Frank can point him in the direction of a support group for people who have encountered eerie clones of their dead spouses, Eddie will shut his damn mouth and get going. If this is a recurring thing for people, that’s just insane. Eddie will gladly join that class action lawsuit against god or the universe or whatever Buck would interpret it as.

“Not all of what we’ve talked about is specific to you, Eddie,” Frank says. “A lot of people struggle with-”

“But isn’t everything with Chris and Kim and all that the most pressing thing?” Eddie interrupts. “That’s what I need to solve first.”

“It all helps, Eddie. We’ve talked about this. You being in a better, more open and accepting place with yourself? That will help with the rest.”

Eddie groans a little. It all sounds so counterintuitive. Even though Eddie knows he’s probably right. Why should he get to work on accepting and loving himself, when the consequences of his actions are still hurting his son? Keeping him away from home? He shouldn’t get to be happy right now.

But the thing is, Eddie made a promise. To Buck, first. The night Christopher left. More than that, though, to himself. He’s going to trust the process. Therapy. The whole nine yards. He’s not going to let this destroy him.

#daisies and briars writes #go and kill go and die fic #a cold world fic

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darl-ingfics · 3 days

Text

Sicktember Day 25: Summer Flu

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Dino (flu)

Caregiver(s): Seventeen (mainly Seungkwan and Vernon, but also a handful of others)

Word Count: 1,715

“STOOOP!”

Chan jolted awake at the sudden shout, instantly moaning in pain. He touched his fingers to his forehead, body recoiling with achy pain from the sudden movement. He collapsed back onto one of his elbows, still massaging at his head as he desperately tried to find his bearings. The only thing Chan was fully aware of was that an incredibly loud noise had woken him (and something quite loud was still occurring just outside his bedroom door,) and that he was unbearably hot.

And congested. No, sniffly. No, itchy. Shit…

“Huh’AHtuu! ITcshuu! HA’CHuu!”

Chan moaned again as he reached for the box of tissues on his nightstand with an all-too-familiar intimacy. He just barely registered the door of his room bursting open as he blew his nose, which prompted two more sneezes.

“Oh shoot, yeah, we woke him.” That was Seokmin’s voice, whispered non-too-quietly.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Jihoon that time.

“This is the exact reason I told you all to stop fooling around.” Seungcheol.

Chan finally looked up, squinting in the light of the doorway. He could see the three members he’d heard, as well as Soonyoung, Joshua, and Jeonghan. Great. A whole party. Just what he wanted right now.

“I’m right here,” Chan whined, sick of being talked about like an inanimate object.

“Hi Channie.” Jeonghan waved gently. “How you feeling, love bug?”

Right. He had the flu. In August. That’s why he felt like absolute shit. Yippee.

“Awful,” Chan rasped in reply. He followed that statement with a round of phlegmy coughs that even made him wince from how horrific they sounded.

“Sorry for waking you.” Seokmin frowned apologetically. “Someone was being… cruel this morning.” He slowly turned to look at Hoshi.

“Since when has offering a good morning hug been deemed ‘cruel?’” the dance leader shot back defensively.

“Since you decided that said hug should also include tickling!” Seokmin replied. He was immediately shushed by Seungcheol, who had seen Chan wince at the volume of his retort. Seokmin’s hands covered his mouth in apology, and he mimed zipping his lips closed for good measure.

“We’d hoped you would sleep through us all leaving for the day,” Seungcheol said with a sympathetic smile as he moved closer to the maknae. Chan frowned as the leader’s cold hand met his clammy forehead, as the sudden cool contact flipped his body’s switch from fever heat to chills. The younger man shivered, arms automatically wrapping around himself. Seungcheol watched the shift happen, and swiftly snagged a blanket from the end of Chan’s bed, draping it carefully around his youngest brother’s quivering frame. (Chan mentally sighed in relief that Seungcheol had chosen the blanket from the end of the bed, cause he hadn’t used that one yet, which meant this one wasn’t absolutely drenched in sweat. Small victories.)

“I wish I had,” Chan muttered, his voice so congested and husky and miserable that everyone in the room felt their heart break just a bit.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Soonyoung said apologetically. “Kyeomie and I shouldn’t have been messing around. I’m so sorry we woke you.”

“I’d still be left out, though…” Soonyoung whined at Chan’s soft admission, dramatically falling against Seokmin’s shoulder. The vocalist melted too, unable to handle the sudden rush of guilt he felt. He had no real reason to feel guilty; it wasn’t his fault Chan was sick. But that didn’t make it easier to see their hard working maknae forced to stay behind. “Are you sure I can’t come to the studio? Even just to watch?”

“Sorry, love, you know the rules: fever above 39.5 means no studio.” Seungcheol shook his head sadly.

“And, no offense, babe, but you literally look contagious right now. Sound it too,” Soonyoung added. Chan’s pout intensified. Joshua elbowed Soonyoung’s side. “Ouch! What? It’s true! I said no offense.”

“Nah, I get it,” Chan replied, rubbing his hands through his hair. “But I hate it.’

“You know, only the performance unit has to leave early,” Jeonghan added from the doorway. “The rest of us can keep you company for a bit! We could even wash your bedding for you, if you want, love.”

Chan shook his head. “You don’t have to…”

“What if we want to?”

Chan’s brow furrowed. “Hyung, you never want to do laundry.”

Jeonghan’s face fell into an unamused glare as the rest of the members in the room laughed.

“Come on, Channie-bug. Let’s get you out of bed and into some fresh clothes.” Joshua extended his hands towards the youngest, and Chan obliged as if in a trance, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He tried not to feel too embarrassed as he saw Jeonghan and Seungcheol stripping his bed, tried not to cry as the soft, gentle hands of Joshua and Soonyoung guided him out of his current clothes and into new ones. Sure, he’d actually been the one taking his clothes off and on, but something about being cared for like this made him feel helpless.

But he did as he was told, including being ushered out to the living room. Chan felt ridiculous as he shuffled towards the living room. He was wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, a hoodie, sweatpants, and Halloween fuzzy socks with a blanket thrown over his shoulders like a cape. In the hottest month of the year. And he was still shivering. How humiliating.

With a huff of annoyance at the universe, Chan slumped onto the couch. He vaguely remembered Jihoon asking what he wanted to watch on TV, the producer turning on whatever program he’d suggested. He vaguely remembered Seokmin mentioning making tea. He vaguely remembered all of the members who had been in his room reappearing before him on the couch, saying things right out of the playbook for caring for a sick person. But none of it really stuck. Sure, Chan appreciated his members more than anything, and he’d be thanking them profusely for all of this in a few days time. But right now, when he was so miserable and forced to stay home from practicing with his best friends in the whole world, he wanted nothing more than to be left alone to sulk and sweat the rest of this bug out.

“H’etkCHee!” And sneeze. That too.

As Chan sat back after being thrown forward three more sneezes caught in his hands, he felt something light fall into his lap, and opened his eyes to a new box of tissues and a Hansol.

“Bless you,” the older man cooed, folding smoothly onto the couch next to him, one ;eg tucked underneath him.

“What are you doing here?” Chan asked, pressing a bundle of tissues to his nose.

Hansol shrugged, completely unfazed by his friend’s ill temper. “Making sure you don’t drown in your own snot?”

“Gross.”

“You’re gross.” Chan kicked Hansol’s knee, prompting the rapper to laugh. “No really. I haven’t properly seen you in two days. I wanted to just exist with you for a bit.”

“Don’t you have practice?”

“Well, Nonie and I don’t have to leave for another hour or so.” Seungkwan checked his watch just to make sure as he fell into the seat to Chan’s right. He held a mug of the tea Seokmin had mentioned earlier, set the steaming beverage on the coffee table for the moment. “We thought we’d chill with you, if you’re okay with that.”

“Sure, if you’re not worried about catching this.”

“Pretty sure that ship has sailed,” Hansol replied. “I’m personally not too worried about it.” Seungkwan nodded his agreement. “We can mask up if that’ll make you feel better, though?” Chan bit his lip, ultimately shook his head. Hansol smirked. “Too touch starved to let us leave, huh?”

“Don’t make fun of meeee,” Chan whined, burrowing into Seungkwan’s side, much to the amusement of his friends.

“Hey, Dino!” The trio looked up, (Chan extracting himself from Seungkwan), to see Junhei in the doorway, miming a throwing motion, a blister pack of pills in his hand. Chan held up his hands, and Jun tossed the packet to him, aim effortlessly accurate as Chan caught the medicine between his palms.

“Thanks, hyung,” Chan replied.

Jun blew him a kiss. “Feel better, bud.” Minghao’s head appeared from behind Jun’s shoulder, a sympathetic smile stretching on his lips as he waved. The faint sound of their manager yelling from outside had both of them running out the door.

As soon as the door slammed behind them, Chan’s whole body collapsed inward in disappointment. Hansol chuckled. “Pouting isn’t going to fix anything, Chan-ah.”

“This is just unfair.” Chan hated that he was whining, but was too tired to stop his mouth. “I just wanna go to dance.”

“I know, hon, but you have to let your body rest.” Seungkwan’s fingers pet Chan’s hair soothingly.

“This is all Jeonghan’s fault! If he hadn’t locked the door during the last GOSE episode…”

“Oh, trust me, he knows,” Seungkwan said, Hansol nodding along enthusiastically. “He had no idea you weren’t feeling well before that whole incident, so when he found out that he’d locked you in the rain and then made you sit in the A/C for all those hours? It wasn’t pretty, let me tell you.”

“But Wonwoo and Seokmin were outside with me! Why aren’t they sick? Why just me?”

“Well, again, you told us you were feeling off before the rain thing,” Seungkwan pointed out.

Chan shrugged. “So? Wonwoo-hyung’s immune system is shit. He should be suffering with me.”

“True as that may be, the honest answer is that life isn’t fair.” Hansol lolled his head to the side, staring directly at Chan. “And I know that’s not what you want to hear right now.” The younger man whined in reply, falling forward so his face smushed against Hansol’s chest. The rapper laughed, patting Chan’s back affectionately. “You’re so cute!”

“Stop saying I’m cute. I’m so fucking gross right now. You said if yourself.”

“Chan-ah! Language!” Seungkwan chided, his eyes teasing. Chan lifted his head just enough to stick his tongue out at Seungkwan before melting back into Hansol’s embrace. Seungkwan and Hansol shared a look of adoration over Chan’s head. Yeah, this was exactly how they wanted to spend their next hour.

#sicktember 2024 #sicktember #seventeen sickfic #seventeen sick #kpop sickfic #kpop sick #svt sickfic #svt sick #sickie dino #caretaker seungkwan #caretaker vernon #darlingfics

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blakelysco-pilot · 1 day

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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

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!

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