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gglitch1dd · 2 days

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Us & You Pt 2

DILF Kirishima Eijiro x Teacher Reader

Context: Kirishima Eijiro has done everything to forget Bakugou Katsuki in his life and just focus on his daughter, his amazing and loving daughter. The light of his eye. Due to an incident, Eijiro meets you, a teacher at his daughter school who he can’t help but fall for. However, as his daughter grows older and questions start being asked, it feels like the peace he tried to cultivate is slipping through his fingers.

Note: First menstrual cycle, mentions of blood, first bra shopping!!!, mention of alcohol, Single dad Eijiro.

PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING THIS SHORT SERIES: There will be some deep discussions about morality, children, abortion arguments pertaining to Pro life vs Pro choice as well as the father’s role in raising a child/conceiving a child. It also deals with the struggles of being a single parent. It’s very messy and very much real life. Katsuki is Trans in this story (mostly cause I couldn’t find another character to be Sachiko’s mom and you’ll see why).

[PART 1] [AO3 Link]

Eijiro sprayed some of his cologne on his neck as he looked himself in the mirror. He tried not to be nervous but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t. He hadn’t been on a date in years and honestly, he felt a bit rusty. He tried to look his best for the date he had with you tonight but he wasn’t entirely sure how it would go, but he was optimistic. I mean, he had spent the last two weeks texting you non-stop and enough for Akari to start getting suspicious and report back to the rest of his sisters who were now all hounding him for details.

Eijiro didn’t want to say anything. He never liked to say anything about the first couple of dates. He knew that those things were uncertain. You could never truly tell how it would fall and he just hoped that he wouldn’t regret it.

But there just seemed something about you that had him lowering his guard a bit. That had him feeling raw and open. Honestly it had him terrified, but maybe it was a good thing.

“Daddy,” Sachiko walked to stand in the doorway in her home clothes. She was dressed comfortably in sweatpants and a hoodie. At the sight of her father all dolled up she had her eyebrows raised in surprise. She tilted her head to the side almost like a confused puppy, her wide red eyes staring at him. “Where are you going?” She asked.

“I…” He started as he turned to face her. “am going on a date.”

Sachiko let out a sound in surprise, not having expected that. She didn’t really know anything about her father’s love life, nor did she think he even had a love life, so he must be really happy about this one to tell her that. Or maybe it was just a sign that she was getting older enough to understand. She walked over to him. “With who?” She asked. She moved to pick up styling cream. Eijiro helped move her onto the counter to sit there as she started to do his hair. “Do I know who she is?”

Eijiro let out a sigh. “You do.” He wasn’t going to dance around it. He’s number one priority was his daughter, which also meant her acceptance too. Even though here he wanted to be selfish, if this went well, it would affect her too.

She sat up excitedly at an idea. “Are you finally getting together with Aunty Mina?” She asked almost in hope.

Eijiro laughed as he shook his head. “No, pumpkin. Mina and I are just friends.” He reminds her, earning a disappointed sigh from her as she started to drag her hands through his locks, pushing his hair back, allowing the black locks of hair to look glossy. “No… you are actually the reason we met.”

“Really?”

He nodded his head confirming it. Sachi thought about it but came up short. She wasn’t entirely sure who it could possibly be. She just hoped you would be pretty and nice to her father at least, before anything else. He hesitated for a moment before looking into the mirror. “How would you feel if I told you that I was taking Ms Y/N on a date?”

Sachiko paused as she looked up at her father surprised. “The maths teacher?” He nodded his head. She was silent for a moment as she thought it over in her head. The small second of a moment made his heart pause. She let out a smile looking up at him. “She’s nice, I like her. I think you’d be nice for each other.” She expressed as she hopped off the counter and turned to wash her hands. Eijiro’s eyebrows raised in surprise at her response. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from her but he wasn’t really sure if it was that. She turned to look back at him. She smiled up at him, looking him over before returning her crimson eyes up to him. “She likes certain flowers, not all of them, she really does like acts of service more than gifts but she likes being spoiled too. Don’t be afraid of being too much, she likes to see the real you more than anything.” Sachi advised.

Eijiro raised an eyebrow amusedly but chuckled. “Okay then.”

“Also don’t ask about past partners. She dated this one guy called Sanemi, he was such a bad guy. We don’t like him.”

Eijiro just nodded, knowing never to question why girls don’t like specific people. “We do not like Sanemi.” He affirmed. He then looked down at Sachiko with a raised eyebrow. “Why does it feel you’re supporting her more than me.”

“I never said that.”

“Mhm.” He looked down at her suspiciously, making her give him a bright sharp grin that only made him laugh.

You sat across from Eijiro at a fancy restaurant you had learned that he loved to visit. It wasn’t necessarily too expensive that you couldn’t even afford more than the water but it was very much not for anything casual. The two of you were laughing more than anything, sitting across from each other at your table. You had tried dressing to impress, a simple black dress and heels, nothing too extravagant but it seemed to be a smart choice, considering he came in all black too.

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was. He truly was the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. With ruby eyes that seemed to be so gentle and warm and looked at you as if you were the only thing worth noting, long dark hair that you thought made him unbelievably more sexy and not to get started on how big he was. He practically dwarfed you and you couldn’t help but think about it a lot.

When you had told Melissa about him, she was super excited.

“Who is he? What does he look like? Oh he’s sexy and a DILF. He kinda looks familiar. Where did you find him? Does he have a brother?”

Something you left to the end to tell her was how he was over ten years older than you. Now you didn’t really see a problem in that really, I mean he was nice, clearly has done well for himself so far and he wasn’t just into you because you were younger than him or something like that. You actually liked that he was older than you. It made you feel almost like he had everything under control. Almost like… well… like he could take care of you.

“So you can imagine how much of a bully she is in the work space.” Eijiro commented on a story he was telling you about his older sister, Akari who seemed dead set on using him to her hearts content.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. “Okay, has your family dynamic always been so close?” You asked leaning forward, dinner having been long over as you were waiting on desert.

Eijiro chuckled as he lifted the glass of wine to his lips. “Yah, fortunately we have. We’ve always been pretty close knit. My father worked a lot but somehow always made time for us, and my mother was a stay at home mom so we really had everything we needed together. I really appreciate them, especially…” You watched him hesitate for a moment. You saw the gears turning in his head but it seemed as though he decided it was better to say it. “Especially when I found out about Sachi.”

You hummed, “That must have been hard, raising her so young.”

He nodded with furrowed eyebrows. “It was.” He put down his glass. “But my family made it easier.”

“You and Sachiko’s mom…” You were hesitant to talk about it but it was something you thought you should be a little bit aware about if you were going to deal with some psycho ex or something. You watched your desert come, plated in front of the both of you. You gave the waiter a smile, waiting for him to leave before continuing. “Are the two of you on good terms?” You asked him.

Eijiro didn’t answer immediately. He wasn’t sure how to answer if he was entirely honest, he didn’t know how to give you that answer. It was a messy explanation and one he wouldn’t want to go into but he knew he should at least answer you that much. He shifted uncomfortably in front of you, instantly making you feel bad.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, no, it’s okay.” He stopped you with a forced smile, raising a hand to stop what you were saying. “Uh… We aren’t speaking to put it lightly. We haven’t spoken for years, since… he gave up all parental rights, actually. A bit after that.” Your eyebrows raised slightly at the mention of he. Eijiro cleared his throat as he picked up his fork and stabbed the cake slice on his plate. “You don’t have to worry about that, if it’s something you’re concerned about.”

You immediately put a smile to your face not wanting to alarm him or make him feel more uncomfortable than how you forced him to be just now. “I just wanted to find out if I have to fight off crazy ex’s.” The comment made him laugh, lightening the mood.

He shook his head. “No crazy ex’s. Just one eleven year old and seven nosey sisters.” He reminded you.

“The eleven year old seems to be the big underlying factor.”

“Definitely.” He lifted his wine glass up to his lips, some expensive wine from a year so far back you were sure they didn’t even know how to store wine properly back then. “It’s hard.” He started, looking down at the wine in his glass. “Raising her in such a world nowadays.” Eijiro had this odd way of answering you and yet withholding somethings of what he thought as well. It was almost as if he was hesitant or maybe even scared to share his full heart with you.

You nodded your head, moving to pick up your spoon. “It sure is. The world is basically raising them and that can influence so many factors. Especially at such a young age where girls are so impressionably.” You furrowed your eyebrows at the thought as you shook your head. “All those magazines, online models, influencers and adverts that show them unrealistic expectations of their body and how they should look like. It really makes them all so depressed about how they look nothing like them.”

“Right!” You looked up half surprised at the show of emotion from him. “It gets me so worried constantly. I mean, Sachi has always been more on the girly side, which I don’t mind cause I think it suits her and I want whatever makes her happy, but then I hear from her friend’s mothers that I’m not allowing my daughter the freedom of expression. That I’m forcing her to wear girly clothes. Like honestly, they speak to me as if I don’t know my own daughter. I don’t-”

You watched as Eijiro got so passionately heated about this. You watched his facial expressions change and morph as he speaks with his hands and motioned around broadly about everything he was saying. You leaned forward, your head resting on your fist as you watched him, half forgetting about dessert entirely.

It was the first time you had heard him speak so much in succession, unsurprisingly it was about Sachiko but you found it cute. He was her father after all and that was his world. Trying to be a good parent for her. And hearing him ramble about how he was so close to punching some ten year olds mother all because she assumed that as a single father he was stereotyping his daughter, was both amusing and also amazing to see. You loved to watch him as he talked, it only made him more handsome.

“I don’t know how anyone can deal with that woman. I don’t like sending Sachiko to sleepovers and playdates because of that sort of influence. Who knows what she’s saying to her own child let alone mine when I’m not there. I don’t need Sachiko thinking the way we live his weird or odd.” Eijiro turned to look at you. You watched him with a fascinated look in your eyes as you just stared at him with a gentle smile. Eijiro hesitated but realised he had been talking your ear off. “Sorry,” He scratched the back of his head with a cheesy smile. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You’re valid for feeling such a way. What she said wasn’t right with any substantial proof and it isn’t like Sachiko looks uncomfortable in what she wears either. You are right for just letting her be.” You interrupted him but confirmed everything he was saying.

For a moment Eijiro stared at you before pulling on another smirk. He scoffed and nodded his head. “Yah… I guess I am.” Suddenly it felt like the heat was switched onto you. He leaned to the side, a slight smirk on his face as he kept his eyes on you, his eye contact making you feel rather funny inside. “So tell me… how are you still single?”

You let out a chuckle. “What?”

“I’m serious.” He affirmed as he tilted his head. “How is it that you’re still single? Is it by choice? Looking and just haven’t found the right one?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Oh sweetheart, no you can’t.” His voice dropped as he chuckled. It sounded so condescending and yet so delicious on his tongue. It made the butterflies in your stomach flutter even more. “I have a lot more experience in the dating world than you. I chose to be single. You… You’re young,” He started listing on his fingers, “Well educated, you have a job, you’re beautiful, good with children, I don’t see why you aren’t swooped off your feet yet.”

You shrugged lightly, a slight smirk of your own as you looked back to him. “I am here, aren’t I?” You asked softly. You saw his eyebrow twitch at that. You eased as you looked down with a more forced smile. “No… guys my age… just aren’t ready for the level of commitment and respect that I want in a relationship. I’m tired of hookup culture. I want to fall in love and go on pretty dates and have simple days that are just one in a thousand but mean the world. I don’t want the constant partying and hopping from couch to bed to bar.” You motioned with your spoon around. “It’s… it’s hard… Call it what you will but…” You sighed as you looked off to the side for a moment.

You weren’t lying. It was tiring always being met with guys who said your expectations were too high just for asking for loyalty and respect. You wanted to be someone’s everything. You didn’t want to be their side thing or one of the many girls in their roaster. You didn’t want a just a guy, or a boyfriend. You wanted a man. You wanted your boyfriend. But life had its way of flipping you around.

“Hey Y/N.” You hummed, still absently staring off at the way to the kitchen of the restaurant. “Y/n… Y/N, look at me.” You turned to look at him, noticing that he had his large hand over yours. The way he seemed to dwarf you always made you felt small but the way he was looking at you made you feel something else. It made you feel… His warm ruby eyes looked at you gently, almost as if he was listening to everything you were saying and everything you didn’t. He gave you a gentle smile. “You aren’t asking for too much.”

Since then the two of you had been moving around each other like two fish in a pond. Never mind the fact that Eijiro was more like a shark, but it worked. He would text you whenever he got the time to, and often than not you would both talk your way through lunch if you were able to with your schedule. Marking and teaching plans took a lot of your time, and although Eijiro couldn’t organise himself to save his life, he did give you some advice he learnt from his personal assistant. He was cute that way.

He always had this way of making you feel so taken care of. Randomly you would receive gifts from him, either via post, on your dates or through Sachiko (who you always knew was carrying a gift for you from her dad, cause she would randomly pitch up before lunch to your classroom with a grin on her face that made you giggle every time you saw it).

One thing very noticeable about your new relationship was physical affection. You both loved it which was much of a relief. The first time he came to your apartment (Thanks Cammie for staying the night away), you both ended up on your couch him practically pushing you down into the cushions. You loved how large he was. It was hot. Literally because his body ran like a furnace. He always had a hand on you whenever you went on dates. On your hip, holding your hand, behind your neck, on your cheek. Wherever. It was amazing. Besides he had this element of control that left you breathless and eager for more.

But there was one rule that Eijiro had that had stayed strong. No sex.

It wasn’t a rule you had a problem with, finding it okay with you because you didn’t need sex to make a relationship (Eijiro was relieved to know you weren’t bothered by it). However, when things did get hot and heavy and you could both feel the ache of each other with your breaths hot and your lips numb and messy, he always pulled away. You had to applaud his self-restraint but it also made you wonder what made him so hesitant. So… dare you say… scared?

You had a feeling it had to do with being put in the same situation that he was put in when it came to Sachiko, one he never really delved deep in, for reasons you didn’t think he would say for a while. Whatever happened in the past, you didn’t judge nor guess. You let it be.

Eijiro was also a very protective person as you had learned to realise and also knew from the first day you met him. The first day that you would spend the day with both Eijiro and Sachiko was a planned one. One on comfortable ground for the two of them, in their apartment, safe. You would come over, make some lunch, bake some brownies and see how Sachiko responded. It was more of a test for Sachi and how she would feel with actually seeing that her dad and you were in a relationship and happily so, which meant you would be around her more often in such a relaxed setting.

It was planned to the ‘t’ of perfect and Eijiro had already planned everything.

That was until some unexpected events happened.

A scream ripped through the apartment, instantly jolting Eijiro awake. There was only one other person in the apartment that could have such a high-pitched scream and it instantly forced Eijiro stumbling out of bed. His heart racing in his ears as he tore the blankets off of him and quickly got onto his own two feet. “SACHI!” He shouted as he threw open the door, making it bang against wall as he ran down the corridor to her room.

He threw her bedroom door open.

Standing still in her frilly pyjamas was Sachiko who looked absolutely terrified as she looked to her bed. The fluffy bedding was pushed back to reveal a rather large stain of blood right there on the sheet of the mattress. Tears streamed down her face as she looked between the bed and her father. Her shorts were also a crimson red as well. Before anything could be said, she raced into the bathroom and locked the door.

Eijiro paused for a second trying to take everything out.

Okay. Blood.

Blood, bad.

Blood from Sachiko… That’s bad.

Sachiko not in pain?

So not that bad?

Blood, pyjama pants, tears, bed.

Eijiro’s shoulders dropped when it hit him, slight relief washing over him.

Period.

He had read about it in one of the many parenting books that he purchased every time Sachiko reached a new stage in her life. The pubescent stage was one he was not looking forward to but one he knew he had to handle. Turns out his reading would have to come into practice.

“Sachi…” He walked over to the door of her bathroom and knocked on it. “Sachi, sweetheart, please open the door. It’s okay.”

“No, its not!” He heard her sob from the other side. “Daddy, I’m dying!”

“You’re not dying sweetheart.” He spoke gently at the door. “You’re just… you’re growing up and you’re experiencing your first period. It’s just blood. Your aunts all went through it too. I promise we can solve this, just please,” He knocked on the door. “Open the door.”

“NO! You’re a boy, you don’t understand!”

He sighed as he brought a hand to his forehead trying to think what to do. This was getting nowhere and he knew breaking the door down wouldn’t help either. She clearly was embarrassed and scared and this wasn’t something it seemed she wanted his advice on either. Not that he had much. All he learnt from his sisters was don’t make them angry, give them chocolate or whatever they were craving and painkillers.

If she didn’t want to talk to him about it, he would have to respect that, for at least as long as her emotions were running high and she was like this. But who could he call? Akari wasn’t in town at the moment, only coming back tomorrow from a business trip. Ayah was visiting her husband’s parents. Hana was abroad, Tamami was at varsity (probably in a class) and the twins were still living with his parents. None of his female relatives were nearby.

Eijiro paused.

Well… it looked like you’d be visiting the Kirishima residence sooner than you all thought.

It didn’t take you long before you were at their door, and Eijiro allowed you in. You looked up to see Eijiro looking dishevelled. He still stood in what seemed to be shark boxers and was shirtless, he looked so relieved to see you there. You chuckled as he allowed you to step in. “You look like you’ve been through somethings.”

He slumped as he sighed. “You don’t know the half of it. I’m sorry to do this to you so early, Y/N.”

You shook your head with a friendly smile. “Oh please, Eijiro, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You put a hand to the side of his face making him relax for a moment. You smiled up at him before looking around. “I apologise for being a bit late, I had to stop at the store to grab a few things. Where’s Sachiko?”

Eijiro motioned for you to follow him. You looked around the apartment. It was rather homey and yet also had a warm feeling too it. Despite knowing and seeing that it looked expensive, you could tell that a family lived here. On the walls you saw photos of Eijiro and Sachiko at various different times. There was one where Sachiko looked like a newborn and Eijiro didn’t seem aware of the photo that was being taken as he held her to his chest.

“I’ve been noticing over the past couple of months she’s been…” He hesitated as he glanced back at you. “Changing.” He tried putting it.

“And recently she was a lot more moody than normal. I thought maybe something was bothering her with her friends but apparently not.” He opened the door to another room. The bed was stripped of all its bedding and sheets, leaving a clean white mattress on the bed stand. You saw this as Sachiko’s bedroom with the amount of pastels, white and fluffy pillows and stuffed animals and fairy lights. He walked over to another door that was closed. Next to the door was a pillow with a clean change of clothes there. You motioned to them as he turned to face you. “She bled through her shorts.” He explained. “I think its best if you…” He motioned between you and the door and random other emotions with his hands. You chuckled and nodded.

You stepped closer to the door and knocked on it lightly. “GO AWAY!” You heard her shout from the other side.

“Sachiko.” You started as you leaned your head against the door. “It’s me, Miss Y/N. Are you okay, hun? Your dad and I are really worried about you.” At first you didn’t hear anything. You looked back to Eijiro and motioned for him to move out of sight. “I promise that your father isn’t here. It’ll just be you and me, sweetheart. I can try and help.”

It took a moment before you heard shuffling. The door opened and peeping through a crack in the door was Sachiko. Her face was flushed pink and her eyes were pink from crying. She sniffed as she looked up at you. “Are you sure he’s gone?” She whispered.

You chuckled and nodded your head, “I promise.” You whispered back.

With that, she let you in, opening the door for you to squeeze through. You took the change of clothes as well as you entered the bathroom. Sachiko moved to sit inside her bath tub away from you. “Sorry. I don’t want the blood everywhere.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” You moved to walk and sit outside the bathtub on the cool tiles, leaning over to rest your head on the edge as you were eye-level with her. You put down your bag that you were carrying and the change of clothes and faced her. “What happened, Sachiko?” You asked her softly.

She wiped her nose with a tissue as she looked at you. “I woke up with tummy cramps. I thought I just needed the bathroom but when I got up, I thought I peed myself. I looked down and all I saw was blood. It scared me.” She had her arms wrapped around her legs, keeping her limbs close to herself.

“And that’s okay. It’s alright to be scared.” You reminded her. “You know, your daddy was very scared to when he couldn’t reach you or help you.”

“I just…” She sighed as she rested her head on her arms. “I didn’t want to weird him out. It’s weird and icky.” She whined.

You couldn’t help but laugh and nodded your head. “It is weird, but it’s also natural. Your dad knows that, and you should too. Yah its blood coming out of a place that isn’t so nice to talk about and your body is changing a lot too, I know it’s weird and you’ve probably been feeling really gross in your body.”

She nodded her head affirmatively. “Mhm! Especially that weird white stuff that’s on my panties. That’s why I decided to wash all my own underwear.”

You smiled in amusement but proud of her resolve. “That’s called discharge, sweetheart. It’s just your bodies way of cleaning out your private parts naturally. Everything has a purpose. Even periods. Your uterus gets nice and ready for a baby that doesn’t come, with nice pillows (that’s what the blood is, by the way) and then when there isn’t one, your uterus gets very angry and, it tears it all off and it can only go out one way.”

Sachiko scrunched up her face. “But I don’t want a baby.”

You chuckled. “I know, but your body doesn’t know that. It just knows that you’ve reached puberty and you can have one, not that you should.”

Sachiko frowned as she huffed. She shook her head with a negative sound making you giggle, her ponytail moving back and fourth. She took a moment to think as she stayed where she was. Her black eyebrows furrowed before she looked up at you, rather shyly. “Do… Do you have a pad I could borrow?”

You gave her a smile as you reached into your bag and pulled out a whole packet. “I have a whole bag you can have.” You carefully picked up the new changed of clothes and handed it to her. “Do you know how to use one?” She shook her head. “Don’t worry, I can teach you.”

It took a few attempts and some praise but soon, Sachiko had changed into a tank top, and new fluffy lounge pants. With her more comfortable and her pyjamas now soaking to be washed, you could have a talk to her about puberty. She seemed to have a lot of questions that she felt too scared to ask her father about.

You talked about a whole bunch of things. You taught her the different symbols for flow on pads and tampon packaging, you gave her a box of pantyliners too and what those were used for. You also gave her a new little bag that you called a “Period pouch” with something of everything for her to put in.

You also taught her the most important thing in every female’s life, getting blood out of clothes. Because nothing is more necessary than knowing how to clean blood stains out of your favourite pair of undies.

With all the period stuff out of the way she could ask you all the stuff she wanted to ask.

Like about training bras. Turns out she owned training bras (good job Eijiro), but she needed ones with padding now and she really didn’t understand how the measurements on bras worked. You noted that in your head, promising to take her shopping soon to go buy her own ones (she thought it best you also ask Eijiro about this as well).

The two of you stoked up and organised her bottom drawer to suit her new needs. After some encouragement, you both left the room hand in hand (mind that you had to remind Sachiko that she doesn’t need to walk like a duck the whole time). You both went to the kitchen where Eijiro stood now in sweatpants, still shirtless of course but he wore an apron that read “That’s not burnt, that’s flavor” on it. Funny enough, his pan was on fire.

“Oh no.” He let out with wide eyes as he looked at the blaze in front of him. He lifted the pan and put it to the sink, effectively washing the fire away along with the bacon. He scratched the back of his head with furrowed eyebrows. “What was in those spices?” he asked himself as he moved to pick up a bottle.

You looked to Sachiko wide eyed. She looked up at you with crimson round eyes that weren’t the least bit surprised. “I do most of the cooking.” She informed you with a sigh. “Otherwise, we would starve.”

That comment made you laugh, getting the attention of Eijiro. Upon seeing the both of you, he lit up. “Hey! Sachi, you’re free!!” He moved to wipe his hands and meet the two of you halfway. “I was so worried.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “I know that growing up is weird and gross and you don’t want to talk about it with your old man, that’s okay, I get that. Just know that I’m here for you okay. I ordered some ice-cream and chocolate from the store, it should be here soon and-” You looked down at Sachiko as she stared up at her father. The giant of a man rambling off about all those things but all she got out of it was that he cared. And that was enough for her. “And I bought one of those warm heat patchy things that you can stick on your tummy, it had good ratings online and-” He was stopped by a tight hug from Sachiko, her face buried against his skin as she held on tightly to him.

“Thanks Daddy.” She whispered.

You watched as his ruby eyes softened at the sight of his daughter, putting a hand on her head. “It’s no problem, little miracle.” He ruffled her hair. Taking Sachiko and your attention was the large man sniffing as he started rubbing at his eyes. She raised an eyebrow up at him as he sniffled. “You’re so big now.” He let out in a wavering voice. “You were just my little girl and now…” He looked away as he tried to fight the tears.

“Daddy, don’t cry.” She urged as she pat his back, which only seemed to make the tears worse. You smiled at the dear sight, watching him so soft and sweet with his daughter. They were two peas in a pod, and clearly very much alike.

He wiped his eyes. “Oh dear.” He sniffed as he looked down at her. “I guess now it’s time to cut your hair.”

“Cut my hair!?” She asked confused, her eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

Eijiro let out a breath as he scratched the back of his head. “Well, it’s just to symbolise a new part in your life. You’re growing up. All I know is that whenever one of my sisters had their periods for the first time, they cut their hair to their shoulders.” He told her. She let out a hum as she put a hand to her chin. “But if you don’t want to-”

“I wanna cut my hair.” She smiled. She then turned to look at you. “But all of this is thanks to Miss Y/N.”

You perked up at that. You waved a hand down and chuckled. “It’s nothing really. Although, how about I cook because, Eijiro you looked like you were starting a fire.” You joked as you pat his bicep, moving to the kitchen.

He looked at you offended before turning to look down at Sachiko with a shocked expression. She giggled at his face. “Did you hear that?”

“She isn’t wrong.”

He let out another dramatic gasp only making her giggle. You chuckle and shook your head as you moved over to grab an apron that was hanging off the wall. You noticed that at least his eggs looked good. You looked around for a pan. Sachiko moved Eijiro to force him to sit down, telling him that he wasn’t allowed to touch a pan for the rest of the day. “Let me help.” She grabbed you another pan before handing it to you.

You smiled over at her appreciatively. “Thank you, mind if you grab me some beans and tomatoes?” She nodded her head as she bustled around, trying to find what you were looking for.

Eijiro sat at the island table watching the both of you star eyed. Something told him that this would work out just fine.

Now after that, you were over at the Kirishimas probably more than you were at your own apartment (much to Melissa’s love and abuse of). It seemed as though with you bonding so much with Sachiko, something was lit inside of Eijiro you didn’t know how to describe. It was almost as if he was all over you now, which you totally didn’t mind. You found it amusing.

You and Sachiko also dragged Eijiro shopping, which he surprisingly didn’t mind as much. He got to see the both of you work together and drag him around a mall all afternoon while he got to spoil his two favourite girls. What more could a man ask for? However, Eijiro didn’t expect the last stop on the shopping list.

“Uh… what are we doing here?” He asked as he looked up at the underwear store in front of him with wide eyes, not entirely sure what he had gotten himself into. The poor man seemed to have gotten pale at the sight.

Sachiko turned to her father and motioned over somewhere else. “You can sit outside, Daddy. Ms Y/N and I have important business here.”

Eijiro raised an eyebrow to you. You raised your hands in surrender. “She asked to get her first bra. It seemed alright with me.”

He then turned down to Sachiko with a tilt of his head. He then folded his arms and shook his head. “I’m going in the store.” He said adamantly. The large man let out a huff in protest.

“Daddy.” Sachiko whined as she looked up at him with a frown. “But this has nothing to do with you.”

“It has to do with you.” He reminded her, motioning to the smaller girl in front of him. “and that has everything to do with me.” He nodded his head factually.

Sachiko frowned with a pout to her lips making you chuckle at the two opposing sides. You stood between the both of them, one hand to Sachiko’s shoulder and one to Eijiro’s bicep. “Now, now you two. Let’s be logical about this. Eijiro, you are paying for it so you get to come in the store, but it’s going to be Sachiko making the decisions here and it’s just going to be the two of us picking out things. Okay?” You looked at both Kirishimas. They frowned at each other but nodded their heads. You chuckled before leading father and daughter inside.

Sachiko looked around with wide eyes at all the different fabrics and sizes. Eijiro, however, looked like a sinner in a church. You had never seen the man more nervous. You almost found it amusing to see such a big man so nervous.

You moved with Sachiko to one of the store attendants. She smiled. “Hello, how can I help you?”

You put your hands on Sachiko’s shoulders. Her wide crimson eyes grew wider as she looked at you and then to the woman in front of her. “We’re here for her first bra.”

The woman, her name being Chiyo, she gasped with a bright smile. “Oh, it’s a special day then.” She teased Sachiko making the girl blush a shade of pink. “I’ve got just the selection for you. I’m sure you’ll love them. Now, they do have adjustable straps for if your chest grows bigger and heavier, although I think you might be an A-cup already but let’s measure…” She led the two of you to get measured with a measuring tape and then she tried to guide Sachi on colours that would best go with what type of top or for school or more supportive ones for sport.

You watched proudly, trying to see the little butterfly make decisions on her own (although you did feel special with her coming to you for your opinion). You did notice that on the other side of the shop was Eijiro being swarmed by another attendant and another woman as well. He seemed to have a tense smile as he looked down at the both of them, sweating like- again, a sinner in a church. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.

“And you, miss?” You turned to Chiyo who had given Sachiko her items to try on. “You’ve been helping your daughter but you haven’t gotten anything for yourself.”

“My-” You paused. You smiled. “This is more for her than it is for me.” You told her. “But…” You glance over to Eijiro who seemed back against a shopping rack ready to make a bolt for it. “Do you have any lingerie in red?”

You had managed to get yourself a cute set, which you wanted to try on in the changing room. You tried on the lacy blood red bra that admittedly hugged you extremely well. You thought about maybe sending pictures to your large burly boyfriend about this.

Then you heard it. “Y/N.” You heard a loud whisper call out your name in the hallway of the fitting room.

You perked up at the sound. You stuck your head out into the hallway to see Eijiro searching for you. The moment he saw you he quickly dived in with you away from the outside. He put his back to the curtain with a concerned look on his face. You raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Eiji? What’s going on?”

Eijiro looked at you with a fearful look almost as if he had been through a whirlwind. He opened his mouth to say something but paused. His eyes drifted down to your chest. He watched as surprise filled his face as his eyes were stuck on the way red contrasted your skin.

You chuckled somehow making him drag his eyes away from your chest. “You okay there Eij?”

He nodded his head dumbly. “Well, I am now.” He moved to walk over to you. He stood behind you putting his hands to your hips as he looked at you in the mirror. Something heated and dark in his eyes that you had seen before whenever you were both way too deep in exploring your bodies with your hands to think logically. It made your stomach in knots as he looked down at you. “Oh baby…” He let out lowly, moving a hand up your sides, gently feeling your chest gently before moving to your neck. “If I knew red was your colour, I wouldn’t have hesitated to walk in here. Look at you. Absolutely gorgeous.” He praised.

You couldn’t help but feel… dainty and pretty under his eyes. His large figure behind you showing the difference in size between the both of you. You felt heat move up your neck making you flustered, but you kept his gaze. “Thank you.” Your voice came out smaller than you thought it would.

Eijiro hummed as he looked you over. “Does it come in a set?” You nodded your head. Eijiro tilted his head, a smirk on his face. “Get yourself another one as well.”

“Something red?”

“Of course.” He chuckled lowly, placing a kiss to your head.

You smiled, turning to look up at him. “Thank you…” Your eyes shifted down to his lips first before moving up to his eyes again. “Sir.” You whispered.

You didn’t even get a second to breathe after before Eijiro was on you like white on rice. He had one hand holding the back of your head while the other held your waist, pulling you to be as close as possible. He groaned into the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer to him. Heat filled your abdomen as you could feel the bulge, he had against you. You wished you could feel him fully hard without the stupid pants in the way.

You separated from him with a gasp and a half-lidded stare. Before Eijiro could move to kiss you again,

“Ms Y/N…” Sachiko peaked into the dressing room. She caught eye of her father and glared. “Bad Daddy!” She immediately moved to push him out the room. She swat at his back and arm, painful slaps as she shoved him out the room. “Out! This is no place for you!”

“Ah!” Eijiro was shoved out the room by a mad Sachiko who glared up at him. “I was just helping.”

“No. You wait outside!” She spoke strictly, making it just the two of you. She shook her head in disappointment. “Boys.” That made you laugh.

However, you soon got confronted with some truth that Eijiro was hiding from you after a work event evening that had probably too much alcohol for Eijiro’s own good. The bright side of that is that you got to meet Akari, his oldest sister and man did she intimidate you. She was around the size of Eijiro, maybe a bit shorter but she looked damn right ready to crush you. However, she was a real flirt and super lovely to chat with. She loved making fun of Eijiro more than anything (much to Eijiro’s dismay).

A few pressured shots later and a long evening and you were dragging Eijiro back into his apartment.

“I’M HOME!”

“SH!!! Eijiro, Sachi is sleeping.” You whisper scolded him as you closed the door behind him. It was the first time you had ever seen him drunk or remotely tipsy, but to be fair, he did drink a lot. You figured he was a heavy weight. The large behemoth of a man stumbled around the entry way before being put up straight by you. You gave him a pointed look, but he gave you a hazy drunken smile. He moved to kiss you on your nose, which only brought a chuckle out of you. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” You carefully moved him towards his bedroom.

The large black haired man kept rambling on about who knows what. “If I was a superhero… I’d want to call myself Red Riot!” He announced nonsensically. “That’s such a manly name? Don’t you think?”

You chuckled and nodded your head. “Yes, it is Eijiro, but you’ve got to keep quiet. Sh.” You reminded him with a finger to your lips.

He put one to his lips. “Shh!” He shushed you back, before giggling.

You rolled your eyes with a smile, opening the door and allowing you both into his room. You led him to bed, allowing him to fall back into the bedsheets. You closed the door slightly as you moved to his bathroom to grab him some painkillers for the morning. You put them on is bedside table before moving back towards him. He seemed rather fascinated with a pillow before you moved to unbutton his shirt.

At first he seemed confused before a shit eating grin went onto his face. He giggled. “Oh, finally, we get to get frisky.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he moved to put his arms around your neck, trying to pull you into a kiss, which you easily ducked.

“No Eijiro.” You scolded as you carefully tried to take his shirt off. “No frisky.” You said sternly earning a pout from him.

“But Y/N…” He whined with a pout. “I’ve been aching for you forever!” He said dramatically throwing his arms out. “I think about you all the time till my cock gets all full and achy. especially in the shower.”

You tried to ignore his drunken confessions, heat moving to your cheeks as you undid his belt, moving it to the nightstand. You moved to take off his shoes and socks too. “No, Eijiro. I’m not taking advantage of you like this, and besides, we can be intimate when you’re ready.” You reminded him.

He hummed as he gave you a sided smile, falling back into bed. “You’re so cool and manly, Y/N.” He said all sing song. “Katsuki was also cool and manly.” You paused at the name. You had never heard that name before. You furrowed your eyebrows as you paused. Eijiro looked sleepy as he put his head to the pillow. “But then Sachi happened… then nothing was cool.” He blinked slowly before turning to look up at you with a tired smile. “But you’re not like that. You love Sachi, like I love Sachi. You wouldn’t want to hurt Sachi like Katsuki wanted to hurt Sachi. You’re so cool and sweet, and beautiful and amazing…” You moved to put him under the blankets in his bed, tucking him in. “I love you~”

You paused at the statement. You turned back to him. You put a hand to his cheek and smiled. You placed a kiss down on his forehead. “I love you too, Eiji.”

“Can you stay?” He asked softly. “I no get nightmares when you here.” His broken speech was cute, but you chuckled. It was late anyways, and there weren’t any more trains or busses at this time probably. Not to your side of town.

You sighed and nodded your head. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You watched him close his eyes as he slipped into sleep fast.

Eijiro let a low groan as he held his head. He moved towards you with a scowl on his face as he sat down at the island table in the kitchen. You smiled at him, preparing breakfast. “I am never drinking ever again.” He boldly proclaimed making you giggle. You moved to slide over to him a cup of water that you had already poured for him and painkillers. He opened his eyes and looked over at the two items. He grumbled. “Thank you.”

You laughed it off. “No problem, Eiji.” You switched off the stoves as you moved to pack away the already washed dishes from the night before.

He took a painkiller as he down the water. He let out a sigh as he put back down the glass. “Where’s Sachi?” he asked, noticing a lack of his daughter around.

“In the shower.” You told him truthfully. With that now in mind, you thought it was the best time to ask him. “Hey Eij,” You asked as you packed away the dishes of last night. “Who’s… who’s Katsuki?”

Eijiro paused at the name. He turned to you with wide eyes, shocked at the question and shocked at the fact that you would be asking it. His heart was beating in his throat. “How… how do you-”

“You mentioned the name last night.” You told him. You watched his eyes squeeze shut as he dropped his head for a moment, letting out a deep sigh. You could tell this wasn’t what he wanted to talk about. “I… Do you-”

“Sachiko’s birth parent.” You heard come out of his mouth before you could finish. “That’s… that’s who he is.” Eijiro looked up at you, slumped. With Sachiko supposedly in the shower, he guessed that he could tell you. Eijiro ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “He… is trans and I knew him through high school and university. He was my best friend and admittedly, I loved him more than I should have. One drunken night together later and… well…”

-Glitch1d

#kirishima x reader #mha x y/n #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro x reader #eijiro x reader #eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n #dilf kirishima #dilf kirishima x reader #dilf eijiro kirishima

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sometimesanalice · 2 days

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California Dreaming

Summary: At sometime past 4am, the last thing you would have ever expected was to receive a call from Bradley Bradshaw. But time is a funny thing it feels like it might be running out.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.6K

Warnings: angst and a bit In-N-Out slander

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on its own!)

You’re pulled from the light sleep you’d just barely managed to slip into by the sound of your phone ringing.

Although you weren’t too sure if your mind was playing tricks on you again. And in that liminal space between awake and asleep, you didn’t trust yourself to know the different anymore. Sleep and you haven’t been on the best of terms over the couple of months, and you had the dark circles under your eyes to prove it.

Your boss had told you about the chatter he’d heard about a position opening up soon at the West Coast office. It was an opportunity that would be perfect for you, minus the fact it would involve uprooting your entire life and moving across the country. You still hadn’t given him an answer yet whether he should put you forward for it or not. But you’d taken to sleeping with your ringer on just in case you were needed for anything, not wanting to close the door completely. And you’d woken up in a panic more than once thinking you’d slept through an emergency call, only to see absolutely zero new notifications.

Just when think it might have been another stress induced fluke, it goes off again.

Bleary eyed, you scramble to reach it. Wanting to silence it to not wake up your boyfriend from his more-peaceful-than-yours slumber. Only half-consciously noting it’s sometime past 4 AM.

However, it’s the name splashed across the screen that makes your heart stop.

𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗘𝗬 𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗪

You sit straight up, the crisp white sheets your boyfriend preferred pooling around your waist.

“Bradley?” You don’t even remember hitting the green button before the phone was up to your ear. “Bradley? Are you ok?” The words come out a sleepy slur all jumbled together by your sluggish tongue.

He’d texted you when he landed back on US soil; a silly selfie with crinkled bag of McDonalds in his hand and the American flag in the background. It had made you grin like an idiot when your phone had lit up with it.

You knew that he had been called back to Top Gun, but that was as much as he’d been able to tell you.

With the time difference, it makes it the hour too early for you, but also too late for him. He should be asleep right now. But you know Bradley, he wouldn’t be calling right now unless it was about something important.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know it’s late there,” Bradley apologizes. “Or early, I guess.”

Tired. He sounds so tired.

You didn’t doubt he was still probably fighting the jetlag that came with being in San Diego after living in Japan for the last year and a half. But it was the weariness in his tone that had you concerned.

“But you’re ok?” you press. You needed to hear it.

“I…” he pauses, then sighs. “Yeah, kid. Everything’s fine.”

You blow out a relieved breath, rubbing at your heavy eyes.

“Good. That’s good,” you nod, reassuringly. Not that he can see you.

He is safe. He is ok. That’s all that matters to you.

Jack groans your name. “Seriously?” The word drips of exasperation and annoyance.

You wince. Less at its sharpness, but more at the feeling like you can’t seem do anything right lately.

You and your boyfriend have been together a little over two years now. You have a comfortable life together in Boston, nice even. But you shook the snowglobe of your relationship when you’d first mentioned the possibility of a promotion and moving, and it still felt like you were waiting for the remainders of all those stirred up flakes to settle back down.

“Give me a minute, Bradley,” you whisper into the phone, “Don’t hang up.” Your voice is so quiet you’re not even sure he heard you.

You turn towards your boyfriend, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but he’s already rolled over away from you.

A literal cold shoulder.

Your eyes trace over the exposed skin of his back. It’s dark, but you could point out where every freckle is on him with bullseye precision. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he knew you as well.

Like when he’d bring you red roses, a flower you’ve never felt one way or another about. You’d tell yourself it’s the thought that counts, that it’s the gesture that matters. But for as many times as you’ve bought your favorite flowers yourself and displayed them on the coffee table in your shared living room, Jack has never once brought them home for you.

It made you wonder sometimes if he even truly wanted you, if he cared enough to pay attention. Or if he was just content in the fact that you’d be there.

And then you’d feel guilty for even thinking that in the first place.

But you didn’t just break up with someone over flowers.

Or the way he always seemed to make plans for you with his friends without ever asking you first. Or the way he was never more attentive to you until the two of you were in front of a group.

There’s a sliver of moonlight peeking through the edges of the blinds of your bedroom. A set of curtains would have solved the issue, but you’d never been able to get Jack on board. It was something you there thankful for now as you tiptoed out of the room with just enough light to make sure you wouldn’t trip over anything.

You ease the door gently closed behind you, feeling some of the tension melt from your body.

“Ok, I’m back,” you tell your best friend.

“I take it we woke up Jack?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, padding towards the black leather couch in the living room. You fight back the hiss that wants to be released when your bare thighs touch the ice-cold material. The October chill had a way of sneaking in everywhere. “He’s got a big pitch presentation on Friday,” you say, feeling like you need to explain, “So he’s just a bit on edge right now.”

Bradley makes a noncommittal sound, something close but not quite like a disapproving rumble. You distract yourself from reading into it too much by turning on the lamp on the side table to its lowest setting. A dim glow illuminating the living room.

“Tell me, how’s California?” It’s a pivot. You know you’re trying to smooth things over; you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.

“Sunny.”

You snort and roll your eyes.

“It seems you left good jokes back in Japan,” you tease. You pull your knees up to your chest and reach for your favorite soft knit blanket, tucking it around you. “Be honest, how many things did you forget to pack this time?”

Bradley groans your name. This time you smile.

“I had to take scissors to my favorite pair of Levi’s, because I didn’t bring any shorts for the beach.”

Picturing the pained look on his face as he desecrated his favorite jeans nearly sends you into a fit a giggles. But out of respect for the fallen and your best friend’s feelings you press your lips together, the corners pulling up on their own.

You can’t resist lightly teasing him though, “Beach jeans? That sounds like a choice.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Bradley says, solemnly. The drama queen.

“Is there someone who saw you in them that I could bribe for some new blackmail material?” you ask. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten my hands on anything truly juicy.”

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, kid, but I looked damn good in them.”

This time you don’t hold back the laugh, only muffling it with a hand over your mouth when you realize that your boyfriend could probably hear you through the closed door.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Give me some time and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll make some space in my Bradshaw Blackmail folder in the meantime.” Bradley’s warm chuckle in your ear makes the room feel less cold. “So what else have you been up to?”

“We haven’t had a ton of down time, but I did hit up an In-N-Out with Natasha the other night.” That was a name you were familiar with. You’ve never met Bradley’s fellow aviator and friend, but you were happy he had someone with him there that he was close to. “It was the same one I took you to when you came to visit after I finished Top Gun the first time.”

It was a fluke of fate that you’d been sent to the West Coast office for some training around the time that Bradley was on leave before being sent back to his squadron. The overlap was only for a few days, but the two of you had made the most of it.

“Who knew you were such a sentimentalist?” You lean your head back against the couch.

“It’s the closest one to base,” he justifies, “Although, you’ll be happy to know their milkshakes are still trash.”

You grin. “Hey, I never said they were trash. That was all you, Bradshaw.”

You’ve only been there the once, but it had been fun getting to experience it with him for your first time. He’d ordered more than enough food for two people, making sure to get some of the more classic not-so-secret menu items for you to try. And the Neapolitan shake had been fine, but the ones from the ice cream shop in your hometown where Bradley had had his first job were much better.

“Your face said otherwise,” he bats back.

You hum noncommittally, not wanting to concede. It was more fun for you this way, even if he was right. Not to mention no one knows how to read your face better than Bradley does.

When you don’t argue, he continues, “There’s even a rumor going around that they might want to keep some of us around longer. Like they’d form a new squadron that would be stationed here.”

You perk up, “In San Diego? You could be there permanently?” Between his deployments and moving around from base to base, you don’t think he’s been in one place for more than two years since he went to UVA. “That would be amazing.”

“Yeah, it really would,” Bradley agrees, he sounds hopeful, “But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

‘Hope for the best, but expect the worst’ was the motto he seemed to live by. He’d had the rug pulled out from underneath him more times than anyone else you knew.

The two of you are quiet for a moment.

You don’t want to push him into talking about whatever the reason is that he’s called so early in the morning. But no matter how many jokes you trade with him, it’s still in the forefront of your mind. And try as you might, you can’t shake that feeling of unsettledness that was resting heavily on your chest.

Outside your living room window, the streetlights are bright against the dark sky.

You’ve told him more times than you could count that he could call you any time, but Bradley being Bradley has always made it a point to call during hours that were convenient for you, even if that meant he was still up at some ungodly hour.

But that was so him, always putting everyone else ahead of himself.

With the confidentiality that goes hand in hand with his job, you know he can’t talk about the specifics. It was something you were used to after nearly a decade of Naval service behind him.

You nibble on your lower lip, weighing your words.

“How’s it been with…” You trail off, but you know he knows who you’re referring to. You run a hand up and down your calf, trying to warm up quicker.

Mav? Pete? He’d been Captain Mitchell the last time you’d seen him back when you were in high school, you weren’t sure what his rank was now.

Mav has always been the number one topic on Bradley Bradshaw’s No Fly List. The few times you’ve dared to bring it up in the past had been shut down quicker than you think he could probably fly his jet.

Bradley told you last week in a text that had simply read He’s here. You didn’t even have to ask who he was. It had been just as much of a shock to you as you imagined it probably was for him seeing the man who had derailed his dreams when everything else in his world had already fallen apart.

It was a story you’d always thought there had been more to, but between the two of them you’d always be Team Bradley. That’s how it was supposed to be for best friends.

You can feel Bradley mulling over his answer. “It’s been… motivating.”

The way he says it you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. And maybe he doesn’t even know himself.

You sit up straighter on the couch. “Oh?” you say, casually. Neutrally. Not wanting to let your inflection to color Bradley’s response.

Their reunion has been a long time coming, you just wished you could be there for him with this the way he’s always been there for you. Not just on the phone, but there by his side.

Bradley sighs again, it’s heavier this time. Like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s probably roughly running his hand down his face, the way he always does when he’s really, truly frustrated. Like he’s trying to free those too big feelings from trapped beneath his skin.

“I’m flying with him for the first time in my career. I want him to see why I’m here. I want to show him.” The anger, the hurt rings though loud and clear. But so does the determination. “These patches I’ve been called back are the best of the best that there is. And I’m one of them, kid. And I got here on my own, without him.”

You wait to see if he is going to continue or not, wanting to give him the space to talk through his feelings, but he’s gone quiet again.

“You’ve worked so hard for this, Bradley.”

“It was all I ever wanted,” he says, his voice rough, “To be like them.”

Like Mav. Like Ice. Like his dad.

You’d been there for the fallout. He’d been crushed when he didn’t get to go to the Academy, the self-destruction that followed had been hard to watch. You’d seen the way he had to pick up the pieces of his life. The way the boy had quickly had to become a man. Every choice Bradley has made since then has been with one purpose in mind.

He’d set out to be a Naval aviator and he’d achieved it.

“You should be so proud of yourself,” you say, softly. “I know I am.”

You imagine Mav is proud too, but you don’t say that part out loud.

After all, he practically helped raise Bradley- in his own way. Always calling whenever he could. Sending presents. Spending his leave time with the Bradshaws. They’d been a family.

“Sometimes-” Bradley cuts himself off, trying to collect his thoughts. You can almost feel the tormented whirlwind of them through the phone. “Sometimes,” he starts again, “There are moments, when I see him fly- it’s crazy shit that no one but him can do- and I forget. Just for a second. But then I remember and it’s like I’m eighteen and feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut all over again.”

Your stomach twists in the same way it always does when you’re reminded of that rough period in time when the two of you were just teens. And now that you’re older, your ache even more for the boy whose whole world was so turned upside down by the one person he thought would never let him down.

“When we’re flying together, I’m reminded how it could have been. How it should have been,” he corrects himself, roughly. “I thought I was fucking over it. It’s been fifteen years, kid. And I’m pissed at myself because he should be nothing to me, I shouldn’t care what he thinks.” His voice is a hoarse rasp. “Why can’t I get over it?”

It’s times like this where you can feel every mile between the two of you. Every inch of space in your long-distance friendship. And it chafes at you that all you can be is an ear for him to vent to rather than a shoulder for him to lean on.

“There’s no version of this where it wasn’t going to be tough. And I don’t think you trying to brush off who he was to you, like none of that mattered, is going to make this any easier for you,” you tell him. “Not with the history the two of you have. And you can’t punish yourself for having feelings about it.”

“I told him no one would mourn him if he burned in.” He all but blurts it out.

Your suck in sharp breath and you shake your head in disbelief, “Bradley, you didn’t.” There’s no hiding the shock in your voice.

You know there’s an unspoken code of conduct between aviators from the things you’ve picked up from the way he’s talked about his career and fellow Naval officers over the years. That when everyone’s lives are so dependent on each other to look out for one another, there were certain things you didn’t joke about. Things you didn’t throw around, not even in the heat of a moment.

“Shit, shit,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

You don’t know what to say to him. It’s silent in your darkened living room. The only sound is of his affected breathing over the phone.

You can’t keep dancing around things with him anymore tonight. He cracked open the door, but now you’re the one pushing through it.

“Bradley, what happened?”

His voice is strained when he speaks again, “We had a couple accidents during training a few days ago- no one was hurt.” He is quick to clarify, and you know it’s for your benefit. “It was a bird strike and they had to eject, but they were cleared to fly the next morning.” It hits too close to home all the same. You don’t worry about anyone the way you worry about Bradley. “Mav found me in the Ready Room later that night, and it was just the two of us alone for the first time since everything happened. He was talking to me like I was the kid he’d helped raise, instead of the one he’d fucked over. And then all that anger came rushing back. So I did what I always seem to do, I went for all the things that I knew would hurt him the most.”

You squeeze your eyes tight in sympathy. You’ve been on the receiving end of Bradley’s sharp tongue before. You’ve never held it against him, but you’ve also never forgotten the way his words sliced straight through you.

“I knew it was fucked up as I said it, but in that moment it felt good to hurt him the way he hurt me,” Bradley says, quietly. Every word feels chewed on, like they’d be covered in indents of his teeth. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look in his eyes, kid. I really fucked up. It’s been eating at me ever since.” He pauses and clears his throat. “I hate that part of myself. I hate that I said that to him, regardless of the shit we’ve been through.” His voice is pinched, tight. “My mom would be so disappointed in me.”

The guilt in his voice is unmistakable and it's a confession you can tell that takes a lot out of him. No one holds on to regrets- or grudges- like he does. Even if the one he’s holding it against is himself. You know this is going to be something he’ll carry around with him for a long time to come.

But it is the way he stumbles over the mention of Carole that cracks your heart open.

You had grown up adoring her. She’d been lightning in a bottle. Her smile was always the brightest in the room, and her laughter always made people stop to look wanting to be in on the joke too. There was no one quite like her.

And after she died, you’d mourned that loss too. You still carried the evidence of that love with the scar issue on your heart. But for Bradley, that was a wound that no amount of time would ever fully heal for him. Forever a reminder of who wasn’t there.

He’d already lost so much. First, his dad. Then his mom. And now with his uncle.

Bradley had told you about Ice and his passing. You knew they had come to an understanding in the after of everything. It was a relationship held together by a monthly phone call or two, and a dinner invite whenever Bradley was in town. He’d called you during one of his breaks on the morning he found out, troubled because he didn’t know he’d even been sick.

Just more time missed with someone who had meant something to him.

You didn’t want him to regret saying those harsh words without the chance to make amends. You didn’t want him to miss out on any more time with people who wanted to be there for him. You didn’t want him to shoulder around that pain and resentment anymore. A decade and a half of it was more than enough to carry that around. You didn’t want him to forever push away the one person who probably cared for him just as much as you did.

“So apologize,” you gently urge him. “Talk to Mav and apologize. For him and for you.”

He sighs, heavily, “It’s not that simple.”

Gone is the quiet girl in her dark living room. You want him to hear you. “It really is though, Bradley. Tell him. Pull him aside after class or get there early. Or take him to that bar on the beach you told me about and buy him a beer. Don’t let this be a thing you can’t take back. You can still apologize.”

“I-I don’t think I can. There’s not enough time for that now.” His words are stilted.

You feel your eyebrows pinch in confusion, “Aren’t you guys there for a couple more weeks?” He doesn’t answer you right away and you feel a chill drift across you, even under your blanket. “Does that mean you’re shipping out soon?”

“It’s why I called.” There’s something more serious in his tone, you’re talking to the Naval officer now. “We got the orders, we ship out tomorrow. Or later today, technically.”

There’s a swooping sensation in your stomach and it feels like the floor has fallen out beneath your feet.

“Goddamn it, Bradshaw. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Your voice wavers.

“I know, I probably should have.” At least he has the good sense to admit it. “I just wanted to talk to you, like normal. Although we didn’t get very far before I derailed the conversation,” he says, self-deprecatingly. “Do you think you can give me a few more minutes of normal, kid?”

You know there’s not much you can ask, and even less than he can tell you. You’re surprised you even allowed to know this much.

But you don’t need a dossier of confidential government information to tell you that whatever he’s being sent to do is dangerous, because you’d be able to read even the most redacted version of Bradley Bradshaw. You’d known something was off from the very moment you’d seen his name lighting up your phone.

You don’t want him to feel your anxiousness, you don’t want to add to whatever else he’s currently going through. Bradley called you because he wants to let his mind relax. So if he wants normal, you can give him normal. You can give him as much as he wants, as much as he needs.

“I’m sorry for making fun of your beach shorts.”

Bradley huffs a soft laugh, “No, you’re not.”

“You know,” you muse, fighting to keep your tone light and airy, “I haven't played hooky in a while and I have some miles to use before the end of the year.”

“You want to come out here?” The suggestion works just like you hoped it would, he sounds less troubled than before.

“I could use some Vitamin D and a milkshake. Do you know a good place to make it worth my while?”

“I might. It depends on your opinion is about Neapolitan shakes though.” Your nose scrunches up on its own. “Are you making that face, kid?”

“No,” you reply too quickly.

“Liar.”

You smile to yourself. “I’ll even let you pick me up from the airport and you can finally show me that Bronco of yours in person. It only seems fair that I get to see what all the hubbub is about after I’ve spent hours letting you talk my ear off about it: V8 engine this and four-speed manual transmission that.” You do your best Bradley impersonation and earn an amused scoff from him.

He’d bought it right before he’d been sent to Japan. Ice and his wife had been looking after it for him while he was away. Bradley had even documented his reunion with it after landing back on US soil by sending you a video of it with him humming the Peaches & Herb song in the background.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Bradley says. You think he might be smiling too.

It’s all to easy for you to slip into a normal conversation with him. He asks about your mom and stepdad. You don’t mention the possible promotion, but instead tell him about the passive aggressive microwave fish debacle that plagued the entire floor for days.

The two of you talk about nothing in a way that feels like everything. And every chuckle you pull out of him feels like a victory. Your tired eyes flutter shut on their own, with them closed you can almost pretend he’s sitting right next to you, until a yawn slips out of you without your permission.

“It’s getting late, I should let you go.”

You want to keep talking to him, but you can imagine the circles that have already formed under his eyes over the last few days. “You should get your sleep. Rest up, because we have big milkshake plans…and you’re not allowed to stand me up. Got it, Bradshaw?”

“I hear you,” he promises. “Try to stay out of trouble until I get back, kid.”

“No promises.” You feel your lower lip wobble.

“Atta girl.”

You laugh. It sounds a little watery to your own ears, but you hope he doesn’t hear it. You’re grateful he didn’t choose to FaceTime you. It’s probably for the best he can’t see your face, you’ve never been a very good poker player.

“Be safe, Bradley.”

You’ve already decided that you’ll let him be the one to hang up first. You didn’t have it in you to hit the red button before he did.

He blurts out your name. “Wait.”

“I’m still here,” you answer, quickly.

You hear him sigh in relief. “I-You know you’re my favorite, right?”

“I know.” Your throat gets thick and your eyes prickle. “And you’re mine.”

“Yeah?”

Your friendship with him as always mattered the most to you. It wasn’t even a question.

“Of course. I didn’t make very intricate embroidery floss friendship bracelets at summer camp when I was thirteen for just anyone, you know.” You’d spent hours making him one in his favorite colors. He’d worn it until it fell off and then asked for another. “You’re my favorite too,” you repeat, wanting him to hear it again.

“Ok. Ok, good,” Bradley says. He lets out a slow breath. “See you soon for milkshakes, kid.”

“See you soon.” It comes out a reedy whisper.

You stay on the line until he hangs up.

And only when the screen goes black do you allow yourself to give into the emotions that had been surging up inside of you.

With the corner of your blanket, you wipe at the tears that are making hot tracks down your cheeks. There’s a hollowness that has settled in your chest that you don’t think will go away until he tells you when to book your ticket to come and see him.

It doesn’t matter that you remind yourself that he is one of the best at he does. Or that you know he’ll be with other people who are just as good as he is. In all the years he’s been in the Navy, you’ve never once heard him sound that unsure before, and it’s rattled you.

It’s not that you didn’t know there was risk every time he sat in the cockpit of his fighter jet, even if it was just to train. But this was the first time it’s ever felt like he was preparing you for the possibility that you might never see or hear from him again.

You didn’t want to imagine a world with Bradley Bradshaw in it.

He’s never once broken a promise with you, and he wasn’t allowed to start now.

You don’t know how long you sit there in the dark with only your feelings and the sound of the clock on the wall for company.

Your eyes drift towards the closed bedroom door, where you’re sure Jack is sleeping unbothered on a soft mattress between stark white sheets.

It hits you then that he hadn’t come to check on you.

It’s still just as dark outside. Only the little lamp next to the couch offers any light, as you look around your living room.

You’d liked all the exposed brick when you’d first moved in, had imagined all the ways you could soften the apartment with things to make it more cozy for you and your boyfriend. More like the two of you.

But the books on the bookcase had been carefully chosen to fit a neutral color palette, while all your favorites had been moved to the smaller one in the office. Their colorful covers hidden away. The spot where you thought some kind of landscape painting could have gone, had a photograph of a sepia-toned city hanging there instead. It was still art, but it was the kind of thing that had been made to disappear into the background.

You keep waiting to see a piece of yourself reflected in the room, some mark of you that had been left behind in the home you live in, but other than the black and white striped rug that had been too good of a deal to pass up on at a store with a no return policy, none could be found. You didn’t see any of yourself there at all.

You thought that you’d been making compromises, but it’s dawning on you that all along really what you’ve been doing is making concessions. A one-sided partnership. When all you ever wanted was to share a life with someone.

Earlier you found yourself making excuses to Bradley, but now it felt like something you weren’t sure you wanted to look past.

You are tired.

And not because it’s sometime around 5 AM now. You’re already well past the start of a new day.

You’re tired of being the one to trying to make something work.

You’re tired of being the one who always makes a genuine effort.

You’re tired of red roses.

Maybe people did end relationships over flowers. Or the art on the walls.

Grabbing your phone, you open your email ignoring all the messages that are already waiting for you, and start typing out a message. When you’re done, you read it over a couple of time before sending it off to your boss. The whoosh that follows as it bounces off the exposed brick in the quiet living room feels like progress.

You didn’t want to miss out on any more time either.

Not with the people who mattered the most to you. The people you mattered the most to.

Leaning over the arm of the couch you turn off the lamp and stretch out to get comfortable on the cushions underneath you. You tuck a throw pillow under your head and drape the blanket over you.

From this angle, you can almost pretend the city lights look like stars.

Your alarm is already set, and if you’re lucky you can doze a bit longer before it will go off all too soon.

But it’ll ok if sleep doesn’t find you.

You’re already California dreaming.

Who gave me permission to do this to myself?! Oh my heart. Don't mind me, I'm just in my angsty era. Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction

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xzhdjsj · 2 days

Text

Brew Me a Cup

Zaros x Reader

Period comfort with Zaros

I know you guys wanted Dontis (AND I PROMISE I'LL FINISH IT BY THE END OF THIS WEEK!) but I really really REALLYYYYY miss Zaros☹️

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Being a member of an imperial family certainly had its privileges, but when you flip the coin, there are numerous drawbacks that could tarnish one's reputation in an instant. For example, a simply show of emotion, be it anger, the raise of an eyebrow or even a passing glance, is enough for talk to spread of an Earis who is "judgmental" or "snotty".

Even as you struggle in pain and discomfort, you still needed to keep the appearance of a put-together young heir. You sighed, battling the urge to dig your fingers into your stomach in agony. Despite feeling the way you do, your footsteps remain steady as you gracefully made your way through the palace hallways with a smile on your face. Breaking this facade even for a minute to cower over in pain would lead to many questioning your ability to govern Serulla in the future and ruin your chances of being the victor of the trials.

Luckily, you're well adjusted to it by now, having had to survive through years of masking the pain that comes with your period.

Originally, you wished to spend your afternoon in the library with your nose stuck in a book, but the pulsing pain in your abdomen wouldn't allow for such enjoyments. Defeated, you instead made your way back to your room, but not without interruption.

"My Earis, I didn’t expect to find you here." His smooth voice called out behind you.

You steps halt and your turn on your heels to face him. "Sarl Zaros. I don't see anything strange about my presence here. It is the way to my room, after all." You stated calmly, unamused and frankly too tired to indulge him at the moment.

"That's not what I meant. You're usually in the library at this time, are you-" he paused for a moment, dropping his worried expression to let his lips curl into a smirk. "Forget it. The less you study, the more likely I am to surpass you in the trials."

Your right hand digs into the fabric covering your thigh, scowling at the grin plastered to his face as he approached you.

"Listen Zaros," you whisper-shout, "My hormones are everywhere and my insides are fighting against their own body at the moment so, as much as I would love to continue this conversation- I would not- I'll be taking my leave now."

Promptly, you rushed a bow before walking away from a very surprised Zaros. Words failed to make it past his throat and his eyes wandered the floor for assistance- an unsual occurrence for the Sarl. Not that he needed words anyways, you were already far gone.

Back in your room, you threw your body onto the plush blankets and soft pillows groaning in displeasure as you held your stomach. Maybe a short nap would help ease your mind, and when you woke up the pain would be gone. It's seemed possible, right?

Wrong. You lay in bed for 15 minutes, then half an hour, then an entire hour and another hour, but sleep never came. The pain in your body was stubborn and didn't dissipate either. Slowly, you roll over, clutching a pillow to your body, only to be disturbed by a knock on your door. With a heaving sigh, you sat up at the edge of your bed.

"Come in"

The door gently opened, and a young woman with a tray pushed her head inside.

"My Earis, I have brought you some tea." She smiled kindly.

"Pardon? Tea? I didn't call for tea."

"Oh," she shook her head, "Actually, Sarl Zaros had the kitchen staff prepare this for you with some sort of herb he gathered."

"..."

There was no proper way to respond to that. Zaros sent you tea, some sort of special tea. How else should you respond than with silence?

"He actually wanted to prepare it himself, but the staff insisted they'd be able to make it on par with his standards." She beamed.

"Ah well uhm thank you." You say awkwardly as she placed the tray before you. "And give my thanks to the Sarl."

"Of course my Earis." The young lady bowed before leaving the room.

Inching towards the tray, you lifted the teacup to your nose and inhaled. It smells leafy, with a subtle hint of something sweet. It didn’t look the most appetizing either but something deep in your gut told you it was a good idea to drink it. Maybe it was the pain, but Zaros wouldn't openly poison you, right?

Your face contorted at the unfamiliar scent, but you took a sip anyways. It tasted just like it smelled and looked, leafy and like the colour brown. You could taste the honey used to sweeten the tea, that definitely helped you finish the cup without gagging.

You placed the tray onto a nearby table, before collapsing back onto your bed again. The pain still lingered, yet somehow theres was a soothing feeling in your chest and a warmth that spread into the rest of your body. It was calming at the very least.

Once again, you wrapped yourself into a blanket and closed your eyes. You were ready for the disappointing reality of not being able to fall asleep, but your eyes grew heavy and before you knew it, your subconscious had wandered off to the land of sleep.

Hours later your eyes opened, lazily blinking at the darkness that had taken over the outside world. Just how long did you fall asleep for? You roll out of bed, and immediately notice how much easier it was for you to move. The pain you felt early was almost completely gone, save for a dull ache that barely bothered you. Standing up and pulling a robe over your shoulder, you knew exactly what you had to do.

You made your way down the hall, in a much better mood now than you were earlier. You stopped at Zaros' door, hesitating to knock but the nagging thought of 'It's the right thing to do' made you do it anyways. You took a deep breath and knocked three times, then stood patiently awaiting an answer. It didn't take long for you to be face to face with Zaros for the second time that day.

"Zaros I uhm-" You stuttered.

"My Earis, how are you feeling?" He smiled, it was probably a struggle to not smile with the intent of teasing but he managed to look like he cared.

"Better." You responded, "I wanted to say thank you. That tea, it helped me calm down and fall asleep."

"I'm glad you were able to experience it's benefits."

"Right, yes. Well that's it I guess." You shuffled awkwardly, turning to leave.

"Would you like to come in?"

"Pardon?" You blinked at him, unsure if you heard correctly.

"Well you probably just woke up, and it'll be hard to fall asleep again easily. I don't mind keeping you company while you're still awake." His eyes shined with a sort of genuineness that you weren't used to.

"Oh that..." You looked at him in disbelief for a moment. "That would be wonderful, thank you."

#I MISS HIM SM:(#zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #zaros #zaros atha’lin #zsakuva zaros #zaros x reader

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glassrowboat · 20 hours

Note

🎲 i wish for a good kiss Prompt

30. Kiss to the palm of the hand

Let Me Help. Baizhu.

Word count: 1,700+

Can you tell I love him and hate him at the same time? Fucking bitch-

His hand was shaking. Trembling under the effort to keep his arm up in the air, like it was the greatest war of the century, he was fighting. Would people shout, fill the air with their screams as blades, unlike the one he was holding, clashed?

“I can help,” you offered, hand outstretched to take the razor away from his grip. To free him of the blade you have been questioning since the moment he picked it up.

A part of you was expecting it to slip out of his grasp, to fall to the floor with a clatter, but it still came to no surprise Baizhu tried to hold it as tight as he could. Or, rather, as tight as he could right now.

“I am fine, my petal.” Baizhu insisted.

“Truly?”

For a moment, Baizhu didn't say anything in response, lips pressed together in a thin line as he no doubt mulled over what words he'd pick out this time.

If he would say any at all.

Most likely because he didn't want to, not when all that would come out of him was another lie. Fibs, he liked to call them, like that made it any better. A habit of his that had started far too many fights whispered under both your breaths in an attempt to make sure Qiqi stayed asleep as heated words passed in the middle of the night. Her head nestled into a pillow, completely unaware of you pleading for Baizhu to stop lying to you. To himself.

He opened his mouth again, mouth agape as he decided on the words: “I can manage this.”

In the end, he was still lying to himself.

“Fine.” You said, taking a step back to allow him some room to breathe. It wasn't far, but the thought of leaving him like this just because you were upset was imprudent. And far too cold.

Baizhu went back to what he was trying to do before. Razor in hand as he stared at the mirror, reflecting back the stubble dotting his chin and current sickened state. One you knew he hated to see.

To let you see.

It had been a big deal- still is, actually- when Baizhu first let you into the backroom during one of his episodes. Not even Qiqi was allowed to see him in this state for more than a few seconds as she brought him trays of tea and occasionally lotus shoot soup. His eyes would be hollow behind those golden glasses, sweat covering his skinny form as he shook in place, lips tinted in a red that you knew was anything but lipstick as he tried to manage a smile for you.

At the time, you wanted to hiss at him to stop with the act, but you knew better. The act was, sometimes, the one thing keeping him together.

So you kept your mouth shut that first time you saw him coughing up blood into the bucket he kept by the bed. Bit your lip until you were sure it was raw as you watched. You could do nothing but be there for him. Hand running along his back, pulling Baizhu's hair out of the way, helping him drink the tea so there was the taste of something pleasant on his tongue as you whispered about how would make it through this.

Sometimes, you thought you were a liar yourself when those words were spilled.

“It's rare for you to see me unshaven, isn't it?”

For you could never know when Baizhu had fully reached his limit until it was too late.

“It is.” You agreed. Voice short and curt even as you told him you can help.

Tentatively, he lowered the razor. Having looked up at you for a moment before shaking his head. “You still knick your own legs, my dear.”

“That hasn't happened in like a month.”

With a huff, you looked back over at the sleeping snake, all curled up in a coil of her own making as she tried to recover from the long night. Unlike you, she didn't have the luxury of getting to pass out as Baizhu coughed and wheezed. Even then, he still tried to run his hand through your hair, easing you as Changsheng kept him stable the entire night long.

A hypocrite you wanted to call him. Just like how you want to tear that contract of his to shreds. To toss it out into the rocks right outside the pharmacy like the world's worst confetti every time he uses a power that would have him stuck inside paying the price.

He was far too generous. With his time, with his effort, with his very own life, for Baizhu was a man who would tear off pieces of himself and give them out with a kindly smile.

Philanthropic to a fault, but that was part of the reason you fell in love with him in the first place.

That day, the patient had walked away with a pep in their step, and Baizhu had fallen into bed.

Just as it always went.

Cut from your own thoughts with a startle and a small gasp you looked down to find Baizhu had reached out to you. Holding onto your ring finger to trace over the jade wrapped around it, a snake motif etched into the stone that was currently hidden behind his thumb as it traced over the pattern. “Petal?”

“Yeah, wifey?”

You couldn't help the grin that came from you as he laughed. His joy always proved infectious even if it was cut off by a loud and sudden cough.

Whispers of apologies came from you as you fetched him a glass of water. Raising it to his lips and you helped Baizhu drink down what he could even as shaving cream got on the rim of the cup. It matters little, anyway. Having to spare some time to clean it up was nothing compared to what he went through for others.

“Sorry, Bai, I know better than to make jokes when you're like this.”

“It's quite alright.”

“No, it's-”

“But my petal, ‘wifey?’” He hummed. Even when his voice was hoarse and broken from every wretch, it truly had such a melodic nature to it. “We're not even married yet, and you're already calling me such a lovely name?”

“Please, it suits you.”

“And shall I call you husband?”

“Well…” Just the image of Baizhu coming up behind you in the pharmacy as he works, trying to maneuver around behind you with a jar full of dried herbs in hand and a kiss being pressed to your forehead as he says ‘excuse me, husband’ certainly did something to you. Even if that something was just amuse you. Surely, those on the older side lingering around would raise a brow at the sight.

“Just drink your water.”

Leaning against the counter, the corner of the material pressing into your rear, you looked back down at the floor. Staring down the scuffs in the polished wood. Something so beautiful that has been torn apart, shaped into what was demanded of it. The wood didn't have a choice, but he did.

Baizhu always did.

“Did anyone drop off any shoutao bao this morning? Last week, there was some in the usual stock of gifts left right outside, and I must admit to craving-”

Just like he was choosing to distract you. To make it easier for you to stand here with him.

“You can't eat like this. We both know that.” You huffed, only to regret it a second later. A sigh “Look. Just…Cmon Bai.”

Baizhu pulled the razor away from his face. Only one line had been dragged across his chin, and it had taken the time of this entire conversation for him to gather enough strength to do so without risking cutting his skin. The silver shining in the low light of the lanterns. “You are just as stubborn as I am.”

“What's that Liyuan saying again?” You asked, mainly to yourself even if it caused Baizhu to glance over at you. “Dead ducks and something something.”

“‘Dead ducks’ is the full term. Though, to so readily imply I am beyond help isn't very nice.”

“Then prove me wrong.”

Grabbing his hand, you pulled the razor away, letting it rest on the counter for now. One can't plead their case if they feel they need to watch for any mishaps or slip ups. Now, can they?

“If I even knick you in the slightest, you can bring this very moment up to me and be like: ‘my oh so precious darling fiance, do you not recall what happened last time?”’

“Your accent is coming along, my petal. Give it a bit more time, and you might even sound like you truly do hail from Chenyu Vale.”

“I need it for every time I mock you.” You said with a scoff.

Raising Baizhu's hand to your lips you press a kiss to the center of his palm. To his fingers. To the spot right over his pulse. All while Baizhu watches, lips quirked up every time your lips met his skin. ‘I love you’ is repeated between each gentle kiss. Trying to give him all you could in this quiet hour that only you shared before he turned around and passed his own life out like candy. Again.

“You would normally call this guilt tripping or bribing if I pulled the same thing.” Baizhu pointed out.

“That's,” another kiss, “because when it comes from you, it is.”

There was silence for a moment, just your breathing his short gasps for air, but it was interrupted all too shortly as you could hear the sound of the razor against the counter again as its picked up. Sliding over that smooth surface for only a moment. You were about to take it back, snatch it, and hold it out of arm's reach, but he was already speaking before you could interject.

“Then this once, my dear. However-”

“If I do knick you, you'll hold it over my head for months?”

There was that grin again, teeth poking out from his chapped lips. You'd have to urge him into drinking more water soon enough. The little he got down clearly wouldn't suffice, but for now, all you could do was hold the blade to his skin.

Trust was such a hard thing for you two, having to work around lies and wishful thinking on both your ends. It was something to work on. Built day by day like a house being slowly erected. Walls being raised to stand tall, windows to be put in, insulation, a roof. But first, you have to start from the ground up, and you swiped the razor along his skin for the first time.

“So, wifey?”

“Baizhu, I swear to Morax, you better shut up and let me work.”

#hoyoverse #genshin impact #genshin x reader #x reader #genshin impact x reader #gn reader #baizhu x reader #baizhu x you #baizhu x y/n #baizhu #banner by cafekitsune

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philistiniphagottini · 2 days

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helluu, making a request for the “domestic bliss” event – and the biggest congratulations on over 400 followers, you deserve it ꒰˶´ ˘ ` ꒱ 💐 could i request period comfort with childe and a moody f.reader please? 🙏

wishing u the best of luck with ur event !! 🌷😘

Thank you so very much! I appreciate all the support you give me, you are very kind. I hope you don't mind this little bite size piece I wrote. Enjoy~

cw. fluff, period comfort, female reader

Domestic Bliss

You sighed dramatically, a loud puff of air whistling through your teeth as you collapsed onto the couch, body strewn across your lover's lap. This was the fifth time you had done exactly same thing today and the thought made Childe's lips twitch with amusement. You threw your legs over his lap, your head coming to rest on the arm of the couch as you stared at the side of his head.

"Tartaglia" you whined, pining for his attention like a needy cat.

Childe hummed in response, signalling you had his attention even though his eyes had never strayed from the important looking document he had been reading. You vaguely recall it had something to do with Northland Bank.

"What is it?" Childe asked.

He idly ran his hand along the inside of your thigh, thumb drawing random patterns into your skin as he leaned further back into the couch. You didn't respond immediately to his question, gazing at him with a sad pout tugging at your lips and expecting him to know the answer.

"Are you hungry again?" he asked, venturing a guess.

You shook your head, hair spilling over the arm of the couch as your splayed locks were ruffled from the material.

"No" you replied.

Childe hummed in thought, tapping his fingers against the inside of your knee as he continued to think.

"Are you cold?"

You shook your head again. "No."

You brought your knees up, planting both your feet against Childe's strong thigh as he continued to rub his hand against your exposed skin. He still hadn't even glanced in your direction yet.

"Cramps?" Childe questioned.

You chewed on the dry skin of your lips, picking at the flaking dirt under your nails as you rolled your shoulders in a small shrug.

"It comes and goes in waves" you admitted.

Childe nodded along to your words. Your menstrual cramps tended to leave you incapacitated for long periods of time and you had to mostly rely on Childe to help you. Another long sigh fell from your parted lips as you stretched your arms over your head, feet gently kicking against his leg as you tried to get him to turn his head in your direction.

"Pay attention to me" you griped.

"I am paying attention to you" Childe replied.

Your cheeks puffed up as you let out a haughty huff. "Then put that damn paperwork down and look at me."

Childe was silent for a long moment. He couldn't help the smile that tugged on his lips as he glanced in your direction and saw the adorable way your nose was scrunched up. With a soft sigh he dropped the paper he had been reading back on the small coffee table in front of the couch. A loud squeak was wrenched from your lips as he looped his arms under the bend in your knees and started tugging you towards him.

"Come here" he cooed.

He pulled you upright and made you sit in his lap, your body nestled into him as you tucked your face into the crook of his neck.

"Is this what you wanted?" Childe asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as his lips brushed against your cheek.

You hummed in content, nose pressed against the hollow of his throat as you took a deep breath. You could feel the heat of his body rolling off him in waves, licking at your skin like the coals of a hot forge as he gently coiled his arms around your waist, careful not to squeeze your stomach and cause you any more pain to swirl in your belly.

"It's a start" you mused.

A smile tugged at Childe’s lips as he rubbed his hand along your back, easing the tension out of your muscles as you purred like a contented cat in his lap. He gazed down at you with fond eyes, pressing his lips to your forehead once more as he tangled his fingers in your hair.

"I'll make sure to pay extra, special attention to you from now on."

#my writing #request #follower milestone #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #childe tartagalia #childe x reader #tartagalia x reader #x reader #fem!reader

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propertyofkylar · 3 days

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Happy early birthday!!!

Worship with Whitney

Preferably no smut, I just want him to tell me that I’m actually beautiful or something.

FIRST PROMPT EVENT POST LET'S GO

pairing: m!whitney x gn!reader

word count: 577

cw: just some canon-compliant name-calling, a little bit of possessiveness

it was hard to do worship with no smut but i did my best <3

“What’s wrong?”

Whitney’s eyes narrowed as he studied your face closely. It came as a surprise to you - you usually were very good at hiding your feelings, and frankly thought that at this moment nothing could have possibly seemed off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, hoping your boyfriend wouldn’t care enough about your feelings to push the topic.

You were wrong.

Whitney tapped ash from his cigarette. “You’re lying,” he said simply before motioning to you with his free arm. “C’mere. You’re not fun when you’re all mopey and it’s pissing me off.”

You took a step closer and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you tight. “Now you’re gonna tell me what’s wrong or else I’m putting this out on you,” he waved the cigarette in your face.

Chewing on your lip, you looked away from Whitney as you tried to figure out what to say. “I don’t know,” you said and as soon as you did, your eyes began welling up with tears. Emotions flooded your entire being and you looked at the ground. How could you even begin? The debt. The stress. The constant attacks. Literally everything that’s going on in your life. It’s all just too much.

Whitney sighed and flicked his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with his toe. “Listen, slut,” he began, and you instinctively looked at him. He had a serious look on his face. “If anyone tries to fuck with you, you bring ‘em to me. Alright?”

You blinked. You weren’t expecting that. “…huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “I know everyone wants a piece of my slut. It’s really fucking annoying, actually. And these dumb fucks talk. A lot. And I hear what they say. And…” Whitney let out a sigh, as if what he was about to say was incredibly taxing to him. “You shouldn’t listen to them.”

You, again, were speechless. “What?” You said after a moment. Whitney shook his head before taking your chin in his hand. You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I hear those cunts talking about what they want to do to you. Calling you stupid and ugly. They’re fucking stupid, because obviously that’s not true. Not only are you way too pretty for those fuckers, they’re forgetting one important thing,” Whitney squeezed your face before dropping his hand. “You’re my slut.”

“Oh,” you felt very warm inside all of the sudden. It made you smile. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Whitney said as he lit up another cigarette. “Seriously. I don’t want word getting out.” He hesitated for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and the two of you stood in silence for a few moments. Then a thought occurred to you that made you grin uncontrollably. Whitney quickly took notice and looked annoyed. “Fuck, what is it now? I can’t keep up with your mood changes.”

You tried to repress it but the smile only grew. “You called me pretty.”

Whitney kept looking annoyed, but you noticed a blush creeping across his cheeks. “Yeah. Whatever. Am I gonna lie? No. It’s a fact that you’re beautiful.” His expression was unpleasant as he looked away.

“But—” you started, though you were quickly cut off.

“Fuck off,” he said simply. “Or else I’ll give you something to really cry about.”

You smiled at the cliche line and settled back into comfortable silence with Whitney.

#dol #degrees of lewdity #whitney the bully #whitney x reader #dol fanfic #writing #prompt event #YAYAYAYAYYAy

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alpydk · 6 hours

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ALPY! My genius friend.

I've just had a truly angsty idea but I've got a lot I need to write at the moment! So I thought I'd see if you want it? Be warned, it's a dark one.

Prompt - It has been years and years since the defeat of the nether brain and the ascendancy of Dekarios the Divine.

Tav is now settled down with a family, which includes an ambitious youngster with an arcane gift.

Gale Dekarios, Tav's former love and The God of Ambition, pays a visit. Looking to select a new chosen of their own...

Riiiiggghhht - I am hoping I have gotten this to a worthy enough standard for you. - Really though, thank you for the prompt because this was an enjoyable challenge. I have tried my best with the angst and I hope it will provide you with what you need/want.

1648 Words - Angst, God!Gale, No comfort, Sad Ending. You've been warned.

As she cried in pain from childbirth, he stood unseen by her side, nothing but a cool breeze through the closeness of the summer heated cabin. His hand was a soothing balm to her brow as the sweat beaded under her hair, strands which in the past he had pushed gently aside before kissing at flushed cheeks. He had believed godhood was worth losing all this, and it was only in that one moment he faltered, watching his daughter come into the world.

Each day he had watched her from his throne, eight mortal years of seeing the child from afar. The young girl with the chestnut curls and deep chocolate eyes. But what was eight years for a god? Seconds had become decades; decades had become millennia. Eight years was now an eternity for him, and yet still Gale Dekarios watched over her.

It was so long ago at the party that he’d last spoken with Tav. The memory of the taste of fresh wine and the sound of Milil’s harp were now a faded spectre in his mind’s eye. The small glimmer of hope he’d had of her joining him in godhood had vanished to nothing at the sight of her swollen belly, on the growing child he would only ever see from a distance. He’d offered her everything: the sun, the moon, the stars; but she’d denied him, her only request being that he give up the crown and come back to her.

Weak and pathetic.

She didn’t cry any tears on their first night apart, or the second. He knew this because he’d gazed at her from his astral pedestal, watching, waiting, hoping that she would pray for him to come back to her. Weeks passed and still nothing came from her lips. Had she even really loved him? Had it all been a lie, just as Mystra had lied to him? “I love you. You should never doubt that.” He shook his head. He was better than this, better than to be pining over some worthless mortal. She didn’t have a scrap of magic in her, so what importance was she to him? And yet still he kept his eyes on her.

This is what you wanted.

Mystra, as expected, had been quick to get involved in his affairs, striking quickly at the infant with the Weave. Words had been shared between the two gods and followers had been sent to their deaths in their name, the first of the many battles between the two previous lovers. It mattered little to either of them how many died, but such were the games between deities. He had learnt quickly that godhood was in some ways similar to lanceboard: take your time, plan ahead, and make sacrifices where needed, and for this, he would eventually be victorious. Ambition was not something to be trifled with.

Achieved it all.

There were elements of godhood he’d not been so prepared for though: the eternity of it all was the biggest issue. Time seemed so short when he was alive, living as if each day was his last, but now, for eight summers, he had watched the child grow, some days stretching on further than he cared for. Seeing the girl skin her knees and hide the tears from her mother, just as he’d done with Tav on lonely nights when his nerves had been aflame from the orb, was one such day. These moments had been insidious, worming their way under his skin, drawing out a dormant sensation from deep down. Guilt? Regret? Sadness? He refused to focus on them. He’d whisper instead to her that tears were a weakness, that she was to aspire to greatness just as she was destined, and with each day she was getting stronger. She was competitive, despite Tav’s objections, and she was headstrong, curious, and easy to manipulate. She was willing to serve him.

Now broken and alone.

Sending a follower was not an option to collect this one. This he would do personally, and he allowed himself to take the form of the weak individual he’d been before his ascension, quietly walking the forest trail towards the house. Were the purple robes too much for the guise? Had his skin always appeared so enervated? The dusty path was lined with wildflowers, purple petals guiding him onwards to his destination; their star-shaped blooms, a cruel reminder of all he’d given to his love so long ago. She had not cared about him, and now he felt nothing for her. There was only the child and their destiny of becoming his chosen.

---

“You came back…”

He’d felt Tav’s presence long before she had even spoken, but he observed the quaint hovel for a short while longer in the hopes she would fall for the deception. “But of course, my love. Even godhood would not let us part souls from one another.”

Doomed for nothingness.

Her arm reached up, a tentativeness he had not seen during his life on Toril. She was testing him, testing the illusion that stood before her. He could see the hope in her eyes, the tears never shed from that night at the campsite burning brightly under the glistening sunlight. Eight years of pain and longing beating through the heart of the woman in front of him, each thump a whisper behind the din of the universe. In another time, maybe his heart would have stirred for hers and yet he stood there with the mask, the charismatic smile she knew from the disrupted portal now set in place. “You look as beautiful as the day we first met,” he spoke, the enchanting smile drawing her in further.

He stepped towards her, a wanted energy building in the air between them. The summer sun held its shadows amongst the trees, and the breeze fell to nothing around them. Birds no longer sang, and the cicadas halted their monotonous chirp. All this created just for her.

Come to me. Give me what I want.

She placed her hand on his cheek, soft and inviting as she had all those years ago, and he rose his own to hold her closer to him, his face pressing into the warmth of her palm. She looked at him as if no time had passed between them, eyes full of love, her lips as flushed as he once remembered them being. But the longer she gazed, the more she saw. He could not hide the emptiness of eternity that bled through his sight, the disdain he now held for her and those beneath him. She tried to pull her hand away from him, only to be held in place; her strength nothing when compared to that of a god.

“Now, my love… Remember, one can’t always be a gentleman.” His eyes flickered a cruel metalic sheen and he kept his grip on her as he pulled her into the small home, ignoring the glow of a buried emotion as it was pushed beneath the waves of contempt.

---

As Tav had sat holding their daughter, he had wondered why he’d even come down to the mortal plane to collect his daughter. He didn’t need Tav's permission to collect the girl, didn’t need to advise anyone of the consequences or even what his specific wishes were. He simply had to retrieve the child, have her say yes, and then she would step in line as chosen were fated to do; a pawn on the lanceboard, ready to be moved into position. So why was he even here?

That which I have lost.

The girl cried, not understanding her mother’s anger, not knowing who the man was sitting in front of her. The air crackled, and she fell quickly silent, seeing his eyes watching her, cold and judging, realising that this was the moment she was about to join him.

He was growing impatient hearing Tav’s arguments. She seemed to want to remind him of who he used to be, nagging like a mosquito during a humid evening. At the party, this may have meant something to him. Now, though, there was nothing to remember of what he had once been other than the image that sat before them, the greying hairs at his temples, the tattered robes he loathed being seen in. She begged him, pleaded with him not to take the girl, but he did not care. He hadn’t cared for any he had taken before. Why would this one be any different?

All that was left.

Tav stood in anger, her voice rising, her dagger pulled from its sheath and he watched as she tried to plunge it into his chest, the blade snapping on the point where the orb had once lay, where delicate kisses had once been offered.

He observed her as she collapsed to the ground, as the child rushed over to offer comfort. Guilt? No. Pity… He took the arm of the child, her hesitation only a moment before she felt the power in his hand, and he swept one last gaze over Tav before focusing his sight on the young girl. “What fools these mortals be.”

As he vanished away with their daughter, Tav released a desperate keen, her voice tearing through and ringing in his mind. Her sobs and tears were cried out to the gods, prayers shouted into the void, and he smiled, knowing they would never be answered.

Now broken and alone.

Years passed in the Astral planes and his new chosen served him well. Each time he looked upon her, he felt a wave of nostalgia, her eyes reminding him of his own. It was curious, the way she carried herself, the way she controlled the Weave, the way she never cried like others of her age did.

Seconds had become decades; decades had become millennia. The years were now an eternity for him and yet all the God of Ambition did was watch. Watched the ants as they crawled on the surface.

Doomed for nothingness.

---

Weak and pathetic. This is what you wanted. Achieved it all. Now broken and alone. Doomed for nothingness.

Come to me. Give me what I want. That which I have lost. All that was left. Now broken and alone. Doomed for nothingness.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 fanfiction #gale bg3 #galemance #god!gale #angst #ask prompt

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justabigoldnerd · 2 days

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For the WIP tag game, I have to know more about number 16, the Soviet Russia Memes Incident, please!

AKHDJSSKHDJ Okay so I was inspired by these memes:

And started writing a modern crack fic where Solo and Gaby torment Illya with them 😅

Here's a snippet, under the cut!

"So," Waverly started, leaning back in his chair, "Would either of you like to tell me exactly how this happened?" He gestured between the two men vaguely.

Solo moved the icepack he was holding against his swollen eye to glance over at Illya. The Russian wasn't in much better shape; blood was drying around his nose, and a colorful bruise blossomed along his jaw. He was sitting up perfectly straight, his arms crossed and a frankly pissed expression on his face. Solo rolled his eyes and flexed his sore knuckles.

"I….may have misused the work group chat."

"'Misused,'" Illya scoffed under his breath.

"Misused, how?" Waverly prompted.

"In my defense," Solo drawled as he wrangled his phone from the inner pocket of his blazer, "They were hilarious."

A crease formed in Waverly's brow as he accepted the phone, but as he scrolled through the seemingly endless number of messages, his confusion gave way to annoyance. "To be perfectly honest, Mr. Solo, I am impressed at just how many of these you were able to find."

"I made a few of them myself," he preened, "I'm particularly fond of the 'in Soviet Russia, its not iPhone, its OURPhone' one."

"Is not funny," Illya grumbled.

"Right. Mr. Solo, I believe some sensitivity training is in order. However, I don't believe the onslaught of memes warranted an assault. So, in lieu of a harsher penalty, I'll just have you apologize to each other."

Solo huffed, and looked to Illya, who mirrored his indignation.

Waverly leaned forward again and clicked his pen threateningly, "Or would you prefer paperwork only for a month?"

With a sigh, Solo shifted in his chair to half-face Illya, "I'm sorry for sending you a hundred Soviet Russia memes, Peril."

"One hundred and thirty five," he corrected through gritted teeth.

"You counted?"

"When messages keep you up all night, nothing else to do but count."

"It wasn't-" Solo tried to protest, but a pointed look from Waverly made him stop short, "I'm sorry for sending you one hundred and thirty five Soviet Russia memes."

Illya's glare didn't waver in intensity, even as he tipped his head to the side and held Solo's gaze. He was silent for a few moments, then took in a deep breath and muttered, "I am sorry for punching your face. Might have been overreaction."

Solo chewed the inside of his cheek, unable to conjure much anger when he was faced with Illya's ridiculously adorable head tilt, and he had no right to be that attractive with blood smearing his face.

"I didn't break your nose, did I?" he asked before he could stop himself, in a soft tone that made him curse inwardly. Maybe Illya had concussed him.

In a fraction of a second, something flickered behind Illya's murderous stare, and he turned away with a shrug. He cleared his throat and stared at a missed spot in the freshly polished tile. "Doesn't feel broken."

"Good," Solo nodded, an extremely unfamiliar feeling of awkwardness churning in his stomach.

"Well then," their boss cut in, sounding more like a middle school principal than the commander of an international espionage force, "Now that's all settled, Mr. Solo, I expect you to be front row at next week's sensitivity seminar. Otherwise, you're both dismissed."

"Thank you, sir," Solo beamed bitterly as he stood, "Looking forward to it."

Illya mumbled a similar acknowledgment and slunk out of the office. Once Solo shut the door behind them, he sighed and mused, "Now the only question is how did Gaby get out of this one."

"No idea," Illya shook his head, "Even screenshots I took were altered. Without my knowledge. Couldn't even track changes."

"She's getting too good at this game," Solo tsked, a bit of pride swelling in his chest nevertheless.

"Da. We make her pay."

"How do you suggest we do that?"

His partner's fingers drummed against his leg, and the muscle in his jaw jumped as he considered their options. "We take engine."

"The whole thing?"

The corner of Illya's mouth quirked up in a poorly hidden smile, "Is just bizarre enough to be good payback."

"She's gonna be pissed," Solo laughed quietly, "Hide it in rendezvous three- no, two. The storage rack in there is taller."

Illya nodded along, mischief washing away the anger in his eyes, and checked their surroundings before giving Solo's chest a pat, "Come on, Cowboy. Let's go steal an engine."

#tmfu #the man from uncle #tmfu movie #illya kuryakin #napoleon solo #napollya #gaby teller #fanfiction #fanfic #wip title game #tag game

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scoonsalicious · 3 days

Text

Reminder: I am on a posting break for new content until May 23rd so that I can focus on writing WFLT...

Today, I have something special for you for the final day of my break, lol. This is the first written chapter of a fic I started writing last year called The End of His Line. It's a Bucky x OFC that made it to about 70k words before I abandoned it for Unwanted. Maybe I'll revisit it someday. It's entirely self-indulgent, not edited very much, and takes place after TFATWS. The premise is that Bucky's been having some trouble since the events of the series, particularly hearing voices. Sam's suggested they contact a friend of his, someone known as The Archivist, who might be able to get them access to Hydra's records on the Winter Soldier program in an attempt to figure out what's going on with him.

Totally self-indulgent and NOT an author-insert, because her name is Sarah and my name is Sara, and they are two, totally different names! Yeah, okay, we both may have auburn hair, but both those elements are important to the story! Plus, our eyes are totally different colors! ;)

Enjoy!

Bucky sat at a table in a dimly lit diner in Midtown, just a few blocks south of Grand Central Station, where Sam had arranged for the two of them to meet this mysterious ‘Archivist’ of his.

Bucky pressed his back against the cold brick wall, feeling more alone than ever. The bustling city streets were a world away from him now, and it was as if he was completely invisible to the waves of people that walked by him. He peered out at them through the window, feeling every bit of his one-hundred-nine years old while all around him remained oblivious.

He glanced at his watch. He was early, having been far too anxious for answers to sit still in his barren apartment, just waiting. And frankly, he didn’t want to be alone. Loneliness visited him a lot more frequently now that Sam set up permanent residence back in Delacroix. Bucky was always welcome to visit, and he did, but after too long, the sight of Sam, surrounded by family and community, always seemed to weigh too heavily on Bucky’s chest, and he’d be reminded of how much he missed Steve’s presence in his life.

A part of Bucky resented Steve’s choice to leave him alone in this foreign world, when Steve had been his only lifeline. Then Bucky would remember everything Steve had sacrificed to bring him back from the darkness, and Bucky would feel ashamed. How could he begrudge his best friend the chance to live the life that had been stolen from him?

Your life was stolen, too, the quiet voice whispered from the darkest corner of his mind. It’s not as though Steve had to go alone. He could have taken you with him. So much for the end of the line.

Bucky slapped his metal fist on the table in an attempt to force the voice back into submission. Instead, the napkin holder on the table shook with the reverberation, causing an older couple a few tables over to look up in alarm. He really needed to stop spending so much time alone.

The sun had risen over the zenith of the avenues, the heat of its rays amplified through the diner windows and making Bucky uncomfortably hot in his leather jacket. He shrugged it off and tossed it over the back of his vinyl chair as the bell above the diner door cheerfully rang. Sam approached the table and took a seat next to him, placing a large round bag next to his chair.

“You brought the shield?” Bucky asked, puzzled. “I thought this was a friend of yours. Are we expecting trouble?” Sam fiddled with the zipper of the bag, opening it and arranging the flap just so, so that the unmistakable red and blue could be seen without being too obvious.

“Nah, no trouble. Just…” Sam sat up and Bucky noticed his clothes were a bit… fancier than normal. “Doesn’t hurt to remind people it’s there, is all.”

Understanding dawned on Bucky. “You’re either trying to intimidate the shit out of this Archivist, or,” he smiled ruefully at his friend, “you’re trying like hell to impress ‘em.”

Sam laughed good naturedly. “I figure it can’t hurt to try a little bit of both. We’re going for a pretty big ask, after all.” He was right. They were asking for all known (and hopefully, any heretofore unknown) records related to the super-soldier serum that created both Bucky and Steve, and the Winter Soldier program that had turned Bucky into a mindless killer. It was a tall order and, depending on where those records might be and who might hold them, a potentially dangerous one. Sam swore, on his family’s boat, no less, that if there were any records out there to be found, The Archivist was the one to find them. Bucky had no problem placing his trust in Sam, but he was wary of involving any stranger, especially when it concerned the most vulnerable parts of himself.

A waitress approached their table, jeans suffocatingly tight and her top cropped entirely too high. She smiled at them both. “What can I get for you two handso—” Her eyes widened at the sight of the shield. “Oh. My. God.” She squealed at Sam. “You’re Captain America!”

Great. Here we go, thought Bucky, as the waitress began to gush and fawn all over Sam. His friend, of course, ate it up. If there was one thing Sam loved more than being recognized as the new Captain America, it was being recognized as the new Captain America by attractive women. She kept twirling a strand of shockingly pink hair with one hand and casually stroking Sam’s shoulder with the other.

God, but these modern girls are forward. He was thankful her attention wasn’t directed at him, because Bucky never knew how to respond to brazen flirting girls were empowered with today, and his first instinct was always to run away. It was so much easier Before. The guy would take charge, make all the moves. He’d know where he stood from the jump. You’d ask a girl out, buy her flowers, take her dancing. There was beauty in the structure, in the process. But now? The whole thing seemed to be a damned free-for-all, where everything that came out of a woman’s mouth could be mistaken for a sexual invitation. It was unnerving.

Or maybe it’s been so long since any woman’s actually touched that you think everything they say and do is a come on. A voice. Not the dark one that whispered his greatest fears to him, but still, not his own, either.

“I’m ready to order!” Bucky cut in, loud and awkward, out of nowhere, to drown out the voice. Sam and the waitress startled out of their flirting.

“Yeah, of course,” said the waitress, giving him a cautious look. “What can I get for you?”

Bucky stumbled, realizing he honestly had no idea– he hadn’t even seriously considered the menu. Well, great. “Uh… I…”

“Why don’t you just get us a couple of coffees for now, sweetheart?” Sam asked with a blinding smile, diverting the waitress’ attention away from Bucky and back on to him. “We’re still waiting on one more.” The waitress beamed back at him.

“Sure thing, Cap.” She gently brushed a hand across Sam’s shoulder before turning and walking back toward the kitchen.

Bucky’s eyes involuntarily rolled in his head. “You just can’t help yourself, can you, Cap?” he asked, grinning.

“Nah, nah– we’re not gonna sit and pretend you’re feeling all normal. What was that about?” Shit. The worst thing about becoming so close with Sam was that it was becoming next to impossible to hide things from him. This new Captain America was beginning to know him almost as well as the last. Almost, said a voice. But you’re keeping this from him. Some friend you are. Okay, that voice might have been Bucky’s.

He was spared from uttering a response by the tinkling of a bell, heralding the arrival of a woman through the diner's entrance. Bucky glanced up to catch her figure silhouetted against the afternoon sun, holding in one hand a massive frozen beverage. His breath hitched as she paused to inspect her phone, her teeth nibbling her lower lip in concentration. He had never met this woman before his long, long life, yet there was something so overwhelmingly familiar about her that it provoked an indescribable feeling of nostalgia within Bucky, as if he had been lost and suddenly found home.

As if in a trance, Bucky felt his eyes drawn to her clothes. The dress seemed like it had been taken from the same shops he'd visited with his sister before he enlisted. And it fit her perfectly - a sage green tea dress snugly clung to her curves and hugged all the right places, high-waisted with capped sleeves, a v-neck collar, and hidden pleats creating a skirt that cut off just below her knees. Below, cream kitten heels made her calves look defined and graceful. She looked as though she had stepped out of time and into this room, embracing him with an aura of beauty and history that was both familiar and captivating – so stunning it made Bucky’s breath catch in his throat.

His gawking was quickly halted by the raspy sound of a chair grating across the Formica floor. Sam leapt to his feet and yelled out “Hey, gorgeous! Right here!” Bucky felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him in addition to the shock he felt at his friend’s behavior. It didn't surprise him that he would act like a flirt; however, it was immensely inappropriate for him to catcall an unsuspecting woman like that.

But when the woman looked up at the sound of Sam’s voice, a wide smile broke out across her face and she headed toward their table. Her auburn hair bounced with each step, and Bucky was taken in by the way the late summer light through the window brought out streaks of warm copper in her flowing waves. He blinked. Did he seriously just think that? Yes, he couldn’t blame that thought on anyone but himself. Those clothes were messing with him.

You fucking idiot, he scolded himself. Get your shit together!

When she reached their table, she opened her arms wide and enveloped Sam in an embrace. Bucky watched as the two exchanged a hug, not really understanding why he was feeling so strangely… jealous, maybe? He’d known that they were close – after all, Sam had specifically requested her help in this endeavor – but he hadn’t expected his body to respond so aggressively to her presence.

The woman let go of Sam and held him at arms’ length, studying him.

“You look good, Sammy. How’ve you been?”

Bucky cocked his head and mouthed “Sammy?” His friend either didn’t see or chose to ignore him.

“Can’t complain– being Captain America and all that ain’t too bad,” Sam said with a flirtatious smirk.

And here we go again, thought Bucky, with more than his usual trace of annoyance. Where was this anger coming from?

The woman threw her head back and laughed, the sound of it like water tumbling over rocks. “I’m sure that line plays really well with the ladies, but you forget I’m immune. Captain America is, quite possibly, the least sexy thing I can imagine.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said with a good natured shrug and grin. “I keep forgetting you’re about the only girl on the planet who’s got her Avengers inoculations. Can’t blame a guy for trying his luck, though.”

She put a finger to her cheek in mock contemplation. “Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’m up-to-date on my Thor-vaccinations, actually,” she shot back with a grin of her own. “But I’m willing to risk it if exposure were to ever occur…”

“And that is why I will never introduce you to him,” Sam joked.

“And here I thought that was because he has no idea you exist.”

Sam grabbed his heart in mock pain. “Oof, you know where to hurt me, woman!”

Their banter was natural, effortless. Bucky wondered what it was like to be able to talk to someone, especially someone of the opposite sex, with such ease.

They’re friends, said the voice. He’s not tongue-tied because, unlike some people, he’s not imaging what it would be like to fu–

Bucky shot up from his chair and held out his hand. “Hi.”

“Shit, sorry. My manners. Bucky, this is Agent–”

“I’m retired, Sammy,” she interrupted as she took Bucky’s hand and shook it. “Sarah’s fine, for polite conversation. And you’re Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.” The way she said his name rode down Bucky’s spine like an electric current.

"Bucky's fine, for polite conversation," he managed to shoot back, smugly pleased with himself when he noticed one corner of her mouth ticked up into a ghost of a half smile.

“It’s so good to finally meet you, Bucky. I’ve heard so many stories about you, I feel like I already know you” she said, letting go of Bucky’s hand and nodding to their chairs. “Shall we?” The three sat down, Bucky shoving his hand under the table. He stretched out his fingers, focusing on the sensation of where their skin had touched. It was warm and strangely comforting, the way a forgotten song might linger in one’s memory. She’d heard things? About him? From who, Sam? God, what? None of it could have been good.

Their waitress returned then with their coffees, and if she thought she’d have the opportunity to resume her flirtations with Sam, she was sorely disappointed.

“What can I get you?” she asked Sarah, rather brusquely, Bucky thought. It was as if she resented their companion’s presence as competition for Sam’s attention.

“Nothing; thanks,” Sarah said, and if she noticed the waitresses hostility, she gave no sign. “I can’t stay long.” Bucky wasn’t sure what he had expected from this meeting, but the idea that it would be over quickly was suddenly a disappointment. He watched her as she took a long sip from a straw plunged into a pile of whipped cream in her cup. He noticed her eyes were incredibly blue.

"Did you want some?" she asked, holding out her cup to him. Bucky realized she had mistaken his scrutiny of her to be an interest in her drink.

"Nah, man," said Sam. "You'd better not. Your old geezer system isn't used to handling that amount of sugar. You’ll get diabetes."

He was probably right– everything these days was so full of sugar that Bucky didn’t know how people could stand it– but he was emboldened by the offer, and didn’t enjoy the idea of her equating him with an “old geezer,” so he shot Sam an arched look and accepted the cup from her. He licked his lips as he drew the straw to him; there was something incredibly intimate about putting his mouth where hers had just been a moment before. He gave a hard pull.

And instantly gagged. The intense sweetness of it cloyed at his mouth and he took a swallow from his own cup of bitter, black coffee to cleanse the taste. Sam erupted in laughter, finding the entire thing hilarious.

"Gah!--" Bucky thrust the beverage back at her, "What even is that?” As she took back the cup, Bucky flinched self consciously, realizing he had just returned the drink with his metal arm. He was relieved to see that she didn’t seem to notice, or at the very least chose not to acknowledge it at all.

"It’s a Pumpkin Spice Frozen Coffee. And maybe that makes me a Basic Bitch,” she cut off Sam, who was obviously on the verge of making some comment to that effect, “then so be it, because it’s fucking delicious.” She made 'fucking' sound both incredibly innocent and yet highly suggestive at the same time, and suddenly Bucky couldn't help but notice the slight inward cave of her cheeks as she sucked at the straw… He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Why was it so warm in here all of a sudden?

"Well, now you got him all hot and bothered, Sarah." Sam casually draped his arm around Bucky's shoulders, and Bucky was mortified – was he so completely transparent? What was he even doing, thinking like that?

"Our guy here isn't used to ladies talking with the mouths of sailors."

Bucky let out a slow breath in relief. Yes, his discomfort was obviously over the profanity coming out of her mouth, and definitely not the intrusive thought of something else entirely going into it.

Sarah just shrugged. "Yeah, my Pops is a fogey about language, too." Bucky winced at being compared to her grandfather, but she gave him a playful wink and Bucky felt something low in his stomach turn over. But the comment seemed to shift something in her and her demeanor turned serious. "So, boys, to business, then? I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a time crunch." She pulled out a notebook, pen at the ready.

“We’re trying to locate some documents,” Sam began.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “No shit. I don’t expect you to call me when you’re looking to run guns, Sammy.”

Bucky blanched. “Is… that a thing you do?”

Sarah shrugged a single shoulder. “Not so much anymore.” She was joking, clearly. He was sixty percent sure she was joking. Turning back to Sam, she asked: “Any reason why you can’t hop onto the library’s online catalog and start your search there, or do you need me to explain Boolean Operators to you again?”

Bucky had absolutely no idea what Boolean Operators were, but he didn’t think he’d mind having her explain them to him at all.

“Oh god, no, please,” said Sam, taking a sip of his own coffee. “Besides, I don’t think the New York Public Library’s going to have access to the kind of databases we’re after.”

Sarah groaned in frustration and closed her notebook. “I’m retired Sammy. You know what that means, right? I. don’t. work. there. anymore. Besides, Romanoff uploaded everything they had back in ‘14; whatever you’re looking for should be all over the public domain by now.” She said Natasha’s name with a trace of disdain that didn’t go unnoticed by either Bucky or Sam.

“Hey,” Sam began defensively, “she was just doing what she had to expo–”

“She exposed a lot of covers and it got a lot of good people killed, Sam,” Sarah spat back with an anger Bucky hadn’t anticipated. “There were better ways to handle it. Smarter ways.”

“Nobody thought–” Sam tried again.

“No, that’s the problem, isn’t it? None of you ever think. Avengers just do, right? And leave everyone else to clean up their fucking mess?” They were losing ground here, and quickly.

“Sarah, please,” Sam practically begged her. “You and I both know that what Natasha released was only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what S.H.I.E.L.D.’s actually got. What Stark had.”

“Well, someone’s been running his goddamn mouth,” she muttered angrily. “I can’t imagine he was lucid when he told you that.”

Stark? Tony? That couldn’t be the he they were referring to– Tony’d been dead for two years. Hard to be running your mouth in that case. Sam seemed to know exactly who she meant, though.

“Not exactly, no,” he told her. “But it’s not like I went fishing for it, Sarah. He just let it slip, and that you’ve still got the clearance, if you want it; you just need the access. You know they’d piss themselves with delight if you walked your ass back in the door, and not a single person’s going to bat an eye if you just so happen to browse through the Archives when you did.”

“You think that ‘access’ is just going to come for free, Sam?” she asked. “There’ll be strings attached. There always are.” She stood up and shoved her notebook haphazardly into her bag. “I’m sorry, but the answer is no. I won’t do it.”

Sam stood up and reached out to stop her, grabbing her arm.

“Sarah, please. Don’t do it for me, or even Bucky.” Sarah glanced in his direction, but Bucky couldn’t meet her stare. “Do it for him,” Sam practically begged. “You know how much it would mean to your—” Sarah looked at his hand on her arm and forcefully tore herself from his grip before Sam could finish his sentence.

“That’s a fucking low blow, Wilson. Especially now.” And she turned her back to them both and walked out the door, leaving the bell clanging in her wake.

“Shit. Shit!” Sam slunk back into his chair, defeated. “I figured she wouldn’t like it, but I didn’t think she’d go full ‘Wilson’ on me. Maybe hit ‘Samuel.’ I at least thought she’d hear us out, let me persuade her.”

“Should we follow her?” Bucky asked. “Try to change her mind?”

“No. We try that right now and she’s likely to shoot us.” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“Literally, man. Nah, she’s gotta cool off. We gotta re-approach from another angle, but the hell if I know what that’s going to be.” He sighed and ran a hand over his head. “I’m sorry, man. I pushed too hard, too fast. I should have eased into her.” Bucky deliberately shoved Sam’s phrasing out of his mind.

“What’s her story, Sam?” It was more than professional courtesy that led Bucky to ask. He found himself thirsty for any drop of knowledge about her Sam could give.

“Sarah Grant,” Sam said with a sigh. “She’s ex-S.H.I.E.L.D., was with them until the whole HYDRA fiasco thing,” he shot Bucky a look, as if to imply it was his HYDRA fiasco “thing.” Bucky scowled at him. “She transferred to the C.I.A. after S.H.I.E.L.D disbanded, but watercooler gossip has it she was running side missions for Fury while he worked on rebuilding. She’s never confirmed it for me, though. She was on assignment oversees when the Snap happened, and by the time she got un-dusted and made it back stateside, she decided to hang it all up and become a librarian, of all fucking things.” Sam’s tone belied his absolute disbelief that someone would transition from Special Agent to Librarian, and while Bucky did find it strange, he was also intrigued. What would cause a person to make such a drastic life change?

“So, if she’s retired, what makes you think she can just walk back in and get us what we need?” he asked.

“Man, if S.H.I.E.L.D. had royalty, she’d be their damn princess.” Sam took in Bucky’s confused expression and elaborated further: “Her family’s been top brass at S.H.I.E.L.D. from the beginning. She was practically raised with the expectation to run that place. Hell, she’s probably got tiny little S.H.I.E.L.D.s running through her blood. It’s in her DNA.”

“She didn’t seem very thrilled at the idea of a homecoming,” Bucky reminded him. “Why give it up?”

“Yeah, well… Things changed; S.H.I.E.L.D.’s not S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore, is it? At least not the S.H.I.E.L.D. she grew up believing in; it’s got to bother her. She gave her whole life to that damn organization and had to watch it eat itself from the inside out, like a cancer.” He looked down at the shield, still lying in its case at their feet, and Bucky knew they were both thinking of the day they watched John Walker use it to bludgeon a Flag-Smasher to death.

“It was a symbol for her, of what could be possible if good people kept doing the right thing. Somewhere along the line, that stopped meaning something.” Bucky understood her reluctance to help them, then. If it meant returning to an organization that had betrayed her, why would she do that for him, someone she didn’t even know? He couldn’t fault her for that.

“We’ll figure something else out,” he told his friend. “It was a solid lead, though, and I appreciate you trying.” Then, because he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “So, how do you know her, anyway?”

Sam stared down at his feet, as though something incredibly interesting was going on with his shoes. “Oh, yeah… Um… Her Pops was a veteran I used to council, back in the day. We met through him.” Bucky could tell when Sam was being deliberately cagey, and while he didn’t really want to ask, he had to know…

“You two ever… ?” he gestured vaguely.

Sam barked out a laugh. “Oh, God, no! Her Pops would literally beat my ass! He’s old, but he’s still got an arm on him. Uh uh, she’s on the no-fly list, man. Damn shame, though,” he added, fondly. “Girl can fill out a skirt.”

“Sam.”

“What? A man can appreciate.” Sam grinned.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he grabbed the shield case. “Let’s get outta here.”

They stepped out of the diner and out into the early afternoon light, the sun casting a warm glow on the city around them. Bucky looked back as they walked away, though, he couldn’t help but think of the intriguing woman who had just stormed out of the restaurant and wondered if they’d ever find a way to get her to help them.

The voice in his head was telling him he hadn’t seen the last of Sarah Grant.

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