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supersizemeplz · 3 years

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We Meet Again

Incubus!Erik Stevens x Black PlusSized Female

Another #supersizedfic Halloween fic. I know, I know. It isn’t October yet but I wanted this to jumpstart my writings for it. I definitely want to push out more creepy/scary fics around that month. Let’s call this practice. Also, I’m calling him an incubus but I’m not sure if he fits that category fully in this. Idk. Enjoy!

Song suggestion: Algorhythm by Childish Gambino

"Come on down to Moreen's Super Savin-" The commercial was clipped short as the screen went black. It had to be the millionth time it'd came on in the past two weeks and it was becoming repetitive. The young woman sat the remote on the glass coffee table before she stood. Her adoring pet took that as her cue to hop down as well and follow her owner close.

"How about a snack, Mina? We deserve that right?" She spoke to the puppy as if she'd reply. Well she kind of did with a bark and shake of her tail. Sierra made her way to the fridge and pulled open the freezer. Only to be met with ice trays and frozen meats. Frowning a bit, she looked down to her animal companion.

"Looks like we're out, mamas." Closing the door, she made her way to the dining room table. Grabbing her keys from atop a local Moreen's Super Savings ad paper. She took a quick look in the hallway mirror and made a quick 180 to head up the stairs to her bedroom. "I guess I need something to cover up, huh."

Keys jingled in a hurried dance as she moved, sounding along with the calmed patter of the loyal four little paws. Out of the bedroom once she'd grabbed a hoodie, through the hallway, and down the stairs. Sierra slipped her braids into a bun atop her head, adjusting the silk headband that protected her edges.

Turning to the eager little bichon frise at her feet, she squatted to talk to the puppy. Mina. "Mommy will be back, ok? I'll get us some snacks from the store." She chuckled as Mina barked her reply. With a soft head rub, Mina turned away satisfied as she went back to play with her toys.

Locking the door behind her, Sierra made her way to her car. She was craving vanilla wafers and ice cream. The wind was a bit chilly as she got further from the house, picking up just a little. Fall was slowly making its way and she was amped for the holidays to start rolling in.

With a soft close of the car door, her right index finger pressed the start button to bring the car to life. The time on the radio read twenty minutes until ten o'clock which was just enough time for her to make it before the store's closing. Once she'd set the radio to a slow R&B jam, she was on her way.

A quick ten minute ride was all it took to reach the store since traffic was basically non-existent. Weird but not impossible. She pulled into the nearly empty parking lot without a second thought and turned off the car. "Out and in, two minutes." The words were a mumble as they left her lips, more so a reminder that the store would close soon and she needed not to slow poke.

"Welcome to Moreen's Super Savings." A lone cashier spoke to her as soon as she entered. She smiled with a polite greeting in reply before heading off to the frozen section. Her house shoes made little noise as she found the ice cream selection with ease. A glance to her watch showed she had eight minutes until closing. She had to hurry.

"Hi, how are you?" Her southern hospitality showed as she passed a man that occupied the aisle as well. Not really paying attention to any of his details. Her mission was ice cream, not a man. He gave a polite smile and simple reply, looking over to her once he heard her voice. From her quick glance, she could see his hands were empty though he seemed to be looking for a frozen dessert as well.

The moment between them came and went as she began her quick search once again. "Ah-ha." She spoke the small victory, grabbing the last personal sized vanilla blue bell pint. "Now to the cookies and then something for Mina." With a quick stride she went over two aisles to find the large variety of cookies.

Squatting down to look at the vanilla wafers on the bottom shelf, she saw someone standing at the end of the aisle out of her peripheral. She thought nothing of that as well until a weird feeling fell over her. And the figure was still there. Raising a brow, she looked over to where the figured stood. Or where it should've been. No one was there.

"Hmm." She gave a quick hum of confusion as she stood from her current position. With her choice of cookies in hand. Her head turned both ways to see if she was just imagining things and after seeing that no one was really there, she decided she was. A quick shoulder shrug ended the paranoid thought and she went on her way to get her last items. Coming to the end of the aisle, she stopped to look for the overhead sign to direct her to the pet aisle. Moreen's was kind of new to the town and she had only been here a total of three times, including now.

"Household, paper products, pets." She began her lengthy walk across the store, passing three aisles before she noticed that someone was mirroring her from the other end of the aisles. It could be ignored and pushed aside as a coincidence until she stopped to pretend that her sock needed adjusting. Only for the figure at the other end to stop as well. "What the hell?" She stood quickly to see who was the asshole sending her paranoia through the roof. She knew this store gave off weird vibes. Just as she looked up to see his face, the store went dark and its usual cheery pop songs went silent.

Her gasp was caught in her throat as her grip tightened on the old container of ice cream. She didn't even register the thought of it slowly attempting to escape its containment. Those big brown eyes of hers kept looking to the spot where the man had stood before the power cut.

"Shit." A short curse left her lips as the once frozen dessert made a mess of her hand. Giving one last glance to the spot, she slowly stepped backwards towards the registers before hurrying to it. Her eyes darted around the area to make sure she was still alone as she attempted to rid her hands of the sticky sweet. "There is no way they closed this damn store with me still inside. The cashier literally spoke to me when I walked in the door."

The door.

Sierra discarded the paper towel that was little help as she looked to the large glass double doors. Her exit. She almost scolded herself for getting so worked up, letting her fear of being in the dark affect her sense. Putting pep in her step, she made her way to the door with a quickness. A quick tug to the handle was supposed to ease her heart rate but it sent it soaring. Locked? Why in the hell is it locked? Oh no. She was trapped here, in the dark with her paranoia. Her back turned to press against the doors. "I just had to watch those damn scary movies today."

The dark aisles seemed to mock her as she scanned across them as quick as she could from where she stood. The light that came in from the windows of the store front could only reach so far. With a shivering hand, she fumbled to pull her phone from her pockets. "No, no, no!" She whisper yelled, holding the side buttons to try and make the screen come to life. Only to be met with the screen that told her that her phone was dead. "You were just on fifty percent. How the fuck could you be dead?"

A loud thud from her left caught her off guard, causing her to tense up and her phone to fall to the ground with a soft clap. She looked frantically to the direction of the noise as it's echo sent chills over her. "H-Hello?" Her words stuttered out as she slowly bent to pick up your phone. Maybe it's an employee? "I think you guys locked me in by accident.."

Still like a tree planted by the water, she didn't move. No one answered her call but she had an eerie feeling that she wasn't alone. "Come on, girl. You're stronger than this, remember what Dr. Hamina said.. Fears are nothing more than a state of mind. You're ok." Finally pulling her feet from the invisible glue that held them, she took a slow step forward. "There has to be an emergency door around here somewhere."

In the distance, just barely behind a faraway aisle, those four familiar red letters caught her eyes. "Exit." Hope sparked in her mind and she was happy to know there was another way out. The trick now was getting to the other side without being caught by the man that lurked in the shadows.

As if he'd known she'd thought of him, his voice surrounded her like a cloud. "Sierraaa. Don't be afraid of me, beautiful.." A sudden, single light cut on in the center of the aisles. Close enough to the back that she was directly across the supermarket from him. The soft buzz of the light could faintly be heard from where she stood. She squeezed her phone this time to cope with the fear piercing her as she took another step backwards towards the door.

"How do you know my name? W-Who are you?" She couldn't hide her fear if she wanted to. The waver of her voice gave it away and she hated that it. Because he chuckled at her. His back was to her and she could just make out him looking over his shoulder back at her. In an instant, the light cut out and it was darkness again before a different light popped on. This one was closer than the last but she still couldn't make him out fully. It was only his clothes that gave away his identity as the man that she'd spoken to on the ice cream aisle when she'd came in earlier.

"You don't remember me, sweetness?" He pretended to be offended, finally turning to reveal his face before the lights turned off. It popping back on with him closer. "All the nights we spent together during your college years, just as you were finding yourself. The nights we spent together.. in your dreams, sweetness." That name, that voice. That face.

"E-Erik?" His voice suddenly found its place in her mind. In those memories she'd locked away. "You're not real? H-How are you-? How did you-?"

She'd went through a weird patch in her early stages of youth and adulthood. Her grandmother had called it 'spirit soaring'. The gift ran through the women in her family, but she seemed to be the only one who couldn't keep her control of it. The first few times were innocent during her teen years with short trips around the home for just a minute. That soon crept up to her soul venturing around her neighborhood to see what night could bring. Snowballing into a faint obsession.

Her grandmother had warned her plenty times before of the addictions of her lucid dreaming. But she'd assured herself she could control it. Then she'd met Erik, the man of her dreams, literally. He'd resembled an actor she'd adored and that was his bait. Everything was perfect between the two until it would inch closer to her having to leave him. And he didn't like that, he wanted her company full time. He'd began to find ways to prolong her visits with him.

She began to notice that he wasn't under her control like everything else in her dreams. It honestly scared her. His demeanor changed and he became obsessed with her, finding ways to pull her under when she'd fall asleep. Passive aggressive and manipulating were his sudden traits. The last time she'd seen him ended with a scuffle. Scarring his left eye and her getting away by a hair.

"How I found you?" He spoke her thoughts, finally allowing her to see his face. That familiar scar was healed now. Making him look like a monster from some horror film. "I never lost you, sweetness. I've just waited patiently.. watching you from the shadows..." He took a step towards her, taking in the sweet scent of her fear. "Never..out of..reach."

The lights began to flicker and her adrenaline started pumping. Sierra began to rack her mind for an escape. The exit sign. It was the same escape route she'd use in her dreams long ago. Her feet started their movement before it fully registered in her mind. "Just make it to the door."

Erik's laughter filled the air around her, loud and mocking as she kept her quick pace. "You can run, but you can't hide. Escape is inevitable.." His words were chilling to hear. He really wanted her for himself.

The door seemed to be getting further away. Like she was running backwards. Tears began to gloss her eyes as she became weaker. Her legs were getting tired, but she pressed on. Just make it to the door. Still the door grew smaller with every attempt to reach it.

"Nooo!" Her knees hit the ground below her, meeting the cold tile floor. "It can't end like this.. Leave me ALONE!!" She screamed into the darkness. A last effort to fight her attacker.

The air was still once her echos silenced. Her eyes moved around as best they could in the darkness. The light above her popped on and the slow echo of footsteps in the darkness came towards her. She trembled where she sat, trying to crawl to the door as best she could.

Erik emerged from the darkness like a villain and stopped just before her. "When will you learn sweetness? Running will only tire you out.." He squatted before her, bringing a hand to her cheek to rid it of a stray tear. "Stay with me and we can spend this life together. Happily. Forever."

"This moment.." He spoke lowly, eyes glazed with lust. "I have been waiting for this moment for so long, my sweetness, to have you all to myself.." He rolled his shoulders as he hummed. "..And here we are. Alone, at last. Destined to be brought together as one."

Licking his lips, he held a smirk at the corner of his lips. "Isn't this what we once dreamed for? To be together forever?" His smile widened at her drooping eyes as they fought to stay open. "Well, I did. At least."

Her lips tried to speaks but all her energy was being drained. His voice began to sound distorted to her. She didn't want him to win this time. Have to..stay..awake. Darkness.

"Ma'am? Ma'am? Can you hear me?" The voice was far off in the darkness, barely audible. Sierra fought to make out the words on her mind. Please don't let him win. Her body wouldn't listen to her in her struggle. She screamed internally at herself to wake up, wanting whoever was trying to talk to her know that she could hear them. It seemed to take forever. "There you go. Breathe."

She had shot up to a seated position, breathing heavily and looking around to see if he was still there. Her eyes held worry as she was only met with two E.M.T. and a small group of employees in the distance. The female E.M.T gave an assuring smile to ease her nerves, though it didn't help much. Though it did calm her a little to see a friendly face. "An employee found you laying in the aisle, nearly unresponsive. So we're gonna take you to the hospital and make sure everything is okay. Are you alright with that, hunny?"

All Sierra could do was nod, needing to get out of this damned store. She'd never come back here, that was for damned sure. The medical duo eased her onto a stretcher and gave her a water for her throat. Since she hadn't uttered a word since she came to. "We'll do a few check ups in the truck on the way there. You just let me know if anything feels weird suddenly or hurts. Ok..."

Tears blurred Sierra's vision as she was lifted into the ambulance, listening to the distant sounds of the medical personnel that assured that she would be just fine. Her mouth didn't open and their words didn't register as she looked forward. Not directly looking to the group of employees that watched her being taken away, but more so to what was behind them where he stood. He was relaxed as he watched her with a smirk. His words rung off in her head as she noticed him vanish behind the passing of employees heading back inside. "Alone, at last. Destined to brought together as one.." She was stuck with him forever.

#black reader #erik stevens #erik x reader #oneshot #halloween fic #supersize the spooky

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sometimesitrytowritethings · 3 years

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A great big special thank you to @peachy-mags for the full version of the fantastic companion artwork for this piece! (https://peachy-mags.tumblr.com/post/654049235542622208/)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Word count: 13.2k

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Canon-typical violence

Summary: After years of service to Angelo Bronte, who would have thought that the arrival of little Jack Marston could change your life forever?

Notes: My submission for @rdrbigbang! Be sure to check out the AMAZING companion art for this fic from @peachy-mags!

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Another beautiful morning in Saint Denis. You breathed in deeply, reveling in the calm peace that so rarely enveloped the town. There was a slight nip in the air that you knew would fade away as the morning drew on, the sun rising and casting everything in a pale-yellow light, before the city itself awakened. It was your favorite time of day.

A cup of coffee steamed in your hands as you slowly made your way through the gardens at Angelo Bronte’s mansion. One of the perks of being a live-in servant, you supposed, was unfettered access to the (admittedly slightly ostentatious) statue garden out back - given that Signor Bronte himself wasn’t occupying the space. After a few minutes of slow, calm pacing, you found yourself standing in front of a marble statue of some Roman goddess, Aphrodite?, and taking a sip of your coffee.

It was hot and bitter, the perfect juxtaposition to the cool morning that you would allow yourself to enjoy for a few moments longer. Soon, you would need to make your way inside and ready the table for breakfast, but for now you could enjoy this moment. This peace.

Unfortunately, that peace was almost immediately broken by the sound of terrified cries coming from inside the house. It was not all that uncommon to hear screams and sobs from inside the building, due to the scrupulous nature of your employer, but these sounded different. Almost childlike.

Curious, you made your way back indoors, trying your best to steady your pace so as not to draw unwanted attention. Setting the coffee cup in the kitchen next to the large washbasin, you nodded to the cook, Giovanni, before opening the door to the servant’s stairwell.

The crying was louder here. Anguished and frightened sobs broken only occasionally by cries for “Mama”.

So it was a child?

Quietly, you crept up the creaky stairs to the hallway, where several of Bronte’s more scrupulous henchmen, Gene, Alfonso and Irvin, were gathered around a door. The crying was even louder now, and most certainly coming from the room where the henchmen were standing guard. Above the desperate sobs, you could just make out the sounds of your employer trying to shush the child, albeit unsuccessfully.

“Now, now, my boy,” he soothed, his accent unmistakable. “There’s no need to be upset, I’m sure your family will come after you soon enough.” The boy continued to cry for his mother in between sobs. Signor Bronte’s tactic wasn’t exactly working.

The men standing guard had spotted you, and closed their ranks tighter. You knew how this went - you were never allowed to see Bronte’s victims. In fact, as far as you were supposed to know, Bronte participated in no underhanded dealings whatsoever. Which was, of course, completely wrong, and you had figured that out long ago. But for the most part, you tried your best to ignore the dealings - for the sake of keeping yourself alive.

But this was a child.

You had to do something.

Carefully, you moved closer to the line of henchmen standing in front of the door. They were larger than you, Signor Bronte had a habit of finding and employing practical giants to act as his henchmen, but they were also silent.

“Signor Bronte?” you called, standing nearly face-to-chest with one of the large men. “Is everything alright? Can I be of service?”

The men in front of you reddened, irritated at your immunity to their intimidation tactics. They stayed silent, however, and maintained their position as a wall of flesh between you and the crying child in the room.

After just a few moments, you heard your name being called with a familiar Italian lilt . “Come in, come in. We could use your help,” he hailed for you over the steady sobs from the room.

The three men at the door reluctantly parted to let you enter the brightly lit room. A fire was burning low in the hearth, likely more of a symbol of comfort than to actually provide any heat, and your boss sat on the side of a large, gaudy bed.

The boss of the largest crime syndicate in San Denis was a feared man, but if you met him in the street, you would never know. He was small, with a prominent nose and dark eyes that never overlooked anything. At home, his dark was hair slicked back under a floral headband, and his red housecoat opened in the front to reveal an unbuttoned white collared shirt. To anyone who didn’t know him, he could have passed as any rich, european immigrant.

But you knew better. In the middle of the luxurious home, beneath the extravagance of his clothing, sat a cunning, intelligent man who had clawed his way up from hell itself. He was cutthroat, manipulative, and would not hesitate to sell out his closest comrade for a step up the ladder. Knowing this, it didn’t surprise you to see a small boy curled up on the large, gaudy bed, his clothes muddied and his light brown hair in tangles. He couldn’t have been older than four or five, and was screaming adamantly for his mother.

Instinctually, you rushed to the bed and sat next to him, taking the spot that had been occupied by your boss. “Now, my dear,” he said as he stood, clearing his throat and adjusting his housecoat, “this young man is Jack, and he will be staying with us for a while.” You looked sympathetically at the boy, still sobbing and curled up in front of you, before giving your boss a solemn nod.

You hated this; seeing the boy in such a familiar state. A state that you, yourself, had been in for years upon your arrival in San Denis. Hopefully his parents, unlike yours, could pay off whatever debt they had soon. “If you could stop his screams, I would appreciate it. He’s giving me a headache,” Signor Bronte continued, reaching up to massage the bridge of his nose with one hand as he headed toward the door. “Get him some breakfast. I’m sure he hasn’t been fed since those hillbillies in Rhodes took him.”

Without another word, he walked from the room and the three henchmen followed closely behind him. As he entered the hallway, you could hear him speaking to them in Italian, “Let’s hope these bastards come for him soon. I want to have the little shit out of here as soon as possible.”

The door closed behind them, and you were left in the room with the poor, frightened child. You sighed and slowly moved closer to the curled up figure on the bed. Making sure you were as gentle as possible, you reached out to place a hand on his tiny shoulder. “Jack?...” you said his name, low and calm, as if you were trying to tame a spooked horse. He curled even further into himself, but you noticed his sobs had started to die down to exhausted whimpers. “Jack?” you tried again, pulling your hand back to yourself and placing it in your lap. Calmly, you gave him your name before continuing, “I’m very sorry about all of this, Jack. I know it’s very scary…. I-”

What could you tell him? That you had been in the same situation when you were just a few years older? That your parents had never been able to come back for you? That you had spent the majority of your life in service to Angelo Bronte, notorious mafioso, in order to pay a massive debt that had been racked up by your father when you were eight?

No. He didn’t need to know those things. He didn’t need to know the likely reality of his situation.

It was rare that Signor Bronte dealt in child kidnappings, but when he did? The poor kids were lucky if their parents were able to retrieve them.

“I’m sure your ma and pa will show up for you soon,” you soothed, hoping it was the truth.

The poor boy, whose sobs had now turned into quiet sniffles, stayed curled up with his back to you, unmoving. You reached out a hand gently, brushing his dirty hair away from his forehead, only for him to flinch from your touch. You couldn’t blame him.

“Alright, Jack,” you said quietly, standing from the bed. A nearby armchair held a throw blanket that you spread gently over him. “Why don’t you get some rest, I’ll bring you some water and some soup in a bit, I’m sure you’re starving.” The floor creaked beneath your feet as you made your way to the door. He didn’t move. He didn’t look up at you. He just stayed on the bed, a shaking, sniffling bundle. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Sighing, you stepped out of the room and into the hallway, making sure to lock the door behind you. You didn’t think he would run away, he seemed far too exhausted and overwhelmed for that, but you have seen desperate people do crazier things. The least you could do was make sure he wasn’t accidentally hurt trying to make his way past Gene, Alfonso and Irvin trying to escape.

You made your way quickly back to the servants stairwell and down to the kitchen, where Giovanni was waiting for you with bated breath. A joyous, loving man, an immigrant from Italy alongside Angelo Bronte several decades ago, Giovanni was one of your closest friends - possibly the next thing to family that you had had since coming here. Over the years, he had taught you as much as he could about Italian cuisine, all the while boasting about the restaurant that he would surely open one day.

At first, you had scoffed. Hardly anyone in Angelo Bronte’s service managed to leave and start their own life. And, with as much as Signor Bronte boasted about Giovanni’s food, it wasn’t likely that he would be let out of his repayment contract that easily.

Hardly anyone actively sought out Angelo Bronte as an employer. In fact, you suspected that the only actual well-paid employees were the contract killers he sometimes took out to keep his hands clean - but again, you weren’t supposed to know that. The rest of you were given room and board and a pittance of a salary, in exchange for paying off whatever debt was owed to Signor Bronte. For you, it was your father’s sizable gambling debts. For Giovanni, it was the cost of keeping his nieces and nephews alive after their father, his brother, had suddenly passed. Bail, loans, gambling - every one of his employees had a past, and every single one of them owed their future to Angelo Bronte.

“And, my dear, what is the news?” he asked, turning from the freshly baked bread that he had just taken out of the oven to face you.

You gave him a somber smile and picked up a slice of tomato from the cutting board in the center of the kitchen island. “A boy,” you explained, leaning against the island and taking a bite of the vegetable. You glanced over at the washbasin and saw your coffee cup had been cleaned. Giovanni was a saint. “Maybe four or five? Small, either way. I…” you trailed off, but the both of you knew what was going through your mind. You felt bad for him, you didn’t think he deserved this.

Giovanni nodded, and turned to the stove. “Well, my dear, let’s give the boy a warm welcome, shall we?” he responded before pulling a large pot from the back of the stove and looking inside. “We have some leftover minestrone from yesterday, why don’t you warm some up for him while I finish Signor Bronte’s breakfast? There’s some stale bread in the pantry you can add to it. I’ll call in Anne to set the table,” he handed you a wooden spoon and was out the kitchen door, where you heard him calling for the older woman.

Your smile was significantly less downtrodden after speaking to the man, but you still could feel anxious, worried butterflies in your stomach as you collected a bowl, spoon and glass. After a quick glance around the room to make sure no one was watching, you also slipped a small chocolate bar into your apron pocket, hoping it would help cheer the boy up, even a little. Within just a few minutes, you were headed back up the creaky stairs to the room where Jack was housed, hot soup and cool water in hand, and armed with a secret chocolate bar.

Quietly, you opened the door, balancing the soup and a glass of water with your left arm as you entered. The room was silent now, except for the low breathing of the boy on the bed. If it weren’t for his red-puffy eyes and the chapped rings around his nostrils, he would have seemed peaceful. Like nothing was wrong at all.

You stood for a moment, looking at the poor boy. Should you wake him? He was bound to be starving, but you were sure he was exhausted as well. You hesitated, but decided against it. You could leave the soup and water on the bedside table and check on him throughout the day - he deserved his rest.

Slowly, quietly, you crept across the room to the side of the bed and set the soup and water down, followed by the chocolate bar. You glanced quickly at him, relieved he didn’t wake, before making your way back to the door.

Just as you were about to leave and go about your duties for the morning, you heard a small cough and a hoarse, timid voice from the bed. “Wait…” he said. You turned to see the boy propped up on his arms, looking at you with puffy, shining eyes. “Please don’t leave me.”

Looking at him made you want to cry. How could anyone hurt someone so small, so fragile, so helpless? How could someone be so cruel as to take him away from his family and thrust him into this god awful world?

He was already so exhausted, so frightened, so sad, you couldn’t leave him to sort his feelings out on his own. You could convince Anna and Giovanni to take your duties for the day. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded at him and moved back toward the bed to sit with him. “I won’t.”

---

Slowly, Jack began to settle in. Although he was still obviously upset, the boy proved to be far more flexible and resilient than you had expected from someone so young. Whether from his natural resilience or from your constant reassurance that his parents must be doing everything in their power to get him back, you weren’t entirely certain. You spent plenty of time with him, making sure he was doing alright, and eventually he chose to sleep on a small cot in the servants quarters, next to your bed.

He was prone to constant chatter during the day, and you soon learned quite a lot about him and his family. He apparently had plenty of aunts and uncles, who all moved together around the country. They had been down near Blackwater for a long time, where Jack had apparently left his favorite storybook, but then something brought them north to a small ghost town “with lots of snow, it was real cold!”. Luckily, they hadn’t been there long before heading south again to “a place by a river with lots and lots of trees” where, notably, his Uncle Arthur had taken him fishing. Most recently, they had moved down to Lemoyne, once again near a river, but this time Jack described it as “really hot and nothing ever dries and it always smells like fish.”

An accurate description if you had ever heard one.

In the meantime, although he wouldn’t talk much to the others, most of them couldn’t help but dote on him. Giovanni had a habit of slipping him sweets throughout the day. Anna and the other maids would occasionally bring him books or toys that they had found around town - he was amassing quite a collection. And from Signor Bronte himself, Jack received a brand new outfit made from the finest cotton. You suspected it was most likely to keep the worn rags out of the man’s sight than to actually please Jack.

But, despite the gifts and the treats from the others, Jack clung to you. On laundry days, he would help sort and fold. When cooking, he would clean the vegetables without a second thought. During cleaning, he happily carried supplies around after you, handing you what you needed whenever asked. Although you had told him multiple times that he was more than welcome to sit and read his new book, he preferred staying by your side.

Almost as if he was afraid that, if left alone, he would be taken again.

And at night, it always came to a head. In the dark and left with no distractions, you could hear his whimpers from the cot next to yours. You could hear his murmurs and quiet cries for “Mama” as he dreamt. And it hurt. You couldn’t bear to see him so miserable.

After the third or fourth night, you reached down and brushed the hair from his head. “Jack?” you whispered, looking at the small boy with all the affection of a loving mother. “It’s going to be alright, I promise.”

He didn’t wake. Instead, he sleepily lifted his hand to yours, and held it in his until the sun rose.

The first few weeks went by similarly. Working during the day, with Jack at your side, helping you out as much as a child could, and comforting the poor child during the night with reassuring words. Soon, the reassurance and affirmations turned into stories - tales about dragons and castles, about magic and the sea.

About two weeks into his stay, you spent the day preparing for a large feast alongside Giovanni, Anna and with plenty of help from Jack.

“You didn’t finish your story last night,” he said, pounding away at a ball of bread dough with his tiny fists.

“Oh yes I did,” you teased, looking the boy dead in the eye with a grin. “You were just too sleepy and fell asleep before the end.” As you joked, you set down the knife and pushed aside the tomato you had been chopping to poke him lightly in the side.

His joyous laughter lit up his face. “Hey!” he whined in between bouts of giggles. “That tickles!”

“I know, silly,” you returned not relenting your tickle torture. “That’s the point!” You did acquiesce after just a few moments though, not wanting to actually cause him any pain.

“Alright you two, calm down, now,” came Anna’s voice from across the room. She was a lovely, portly older woman, with graying hair and a smile to light up a room. If Giovanni had been your father figure since coming here, she certainly took the place of your mother. “We’ve got plenty to prepare for tonight. Signor Bronte is having the Mayor over to talk about his party.”

You let your giggles die down, and nudged the red-faced child next to you. “Now look what you’ve done, Jackie,” you teased softly, ruffling his hair before going back to chopping vegetables.

“Nuh uh,” he responded, giving the bread dough a thorough punch before looking up at you again with a childish grin. He had lost a tooth recently, which only made it all the more adorable. “Can you tell me the end of the story?” he asked after another moment, turning back to the mound of dough on the table. “It was so good, I wanna hear the end. Pretty please?”

A chuckle escaped your lips. “Alright, alright,” you chided, picking up yet another tomato. It wasn’t a particularly good story, just a thinly veiled version of… well, you didn’t want to dwell on that, but if he wanted to hear it, you would oblige. “Where were we?”

“Hmmm…” he mused, stopping kneading the dough for just a second to recall. “Well, the king and queen had just sent the princess to talk to the mean dragon, and then he caught her in a trap, remember?”

“That’s the beginning of the story, Jack.”

“Well, that’s as far as I remember,” his giggles echoed through the room and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright, fine,” you feigned irritation that he definitely could see right through. “Well, the princess had been caught in a trap by the mean dragon, but he didn’t hurt her. He… he just wouldn’t let her go home. He wouldn’t let her see the king and queen again so she could be happy.

“‘Your king and queen need to send a knight to come get you,’ the dragon told the princess. ‘Little girls cannot roam the forest on their own.’

“And so, the princess waited, and waited and waited and waited. She learned to read, and write, and she even learned to speak Dragon, which were talents unheard of for princesses in those days.

“She had lots of friends who came and went, and even though she couldn’t go back to the king and queen, she... she wasn’t so lonely… and she learned to find happiness in the small things, like the smell of coffee in the morning, or turning the page of a brand new book, or even the glow of the sunrise on spring dew.

“After a while, she finally realised that she didn’t need the king and queen to be happy. She could make her own happiness… And she did…” you trailed off at the end, returning your focus once again to the vegetables. The other two adults in the room remained silent. You couldn’t have been more blatantly obvious. “The end.”

Jack was quiet for a moment as well, hands stilled on the dough as he looked at the ceiling in thought. “That wasn’t a very good ending,” he said quietly, looking up at you.

You had been caught.

“The princess should have run away, or she should have asked one of her friends to take her when they were leaving,” he continued, determined.

You chuckled solemnly. “You’re probably right, Jack,” you murmured. “I think she was just… scared. The world was dark and scary for her, and she weren’t a very brave princess, and she was worried about what would happen to the king and queen if she left.”

“But that’s not true,” he interjected, throwing one final punch at the bread dough before Anna came to collect it from him. “She was real brave! She lived with a dragon! And dragons are real scary!” He was handed another mound of dough which he immediately proceeded to punch with all his might. “And maybe some of her friends come back to save her! Maybe she helped lots of people while they were living with the dragon, and then they come back to help her! That would be an even better ending!”

Another chuckle. He was far too adorable and far too naive for this house. “Maybe, Jack,” you responded, plastering a knowing smile to your lips. “That would be a good ending.” Clearing your throat, you wiped your hands on your apron and turned to face the small boy. “Alright now, you. Finish up with that bread and then we can get cleaned up for lunch. I think Giovanni is making us spaghetti.”

---

The hot water splashed out of the bucket, spraying suds across the floor. Jack giggled and picked up a handful, blowing it in your direction.

You couldn’t help but laugh. The kid sure did know how to make even the most boring of chores into a game. Looking around first to make sure no one caught you messing around, you picked up a handful of bubbles and plopped them onto his head. This brought out a shrieking laugh from the boy. He really was settling in. For better or worse, at least he seemed to be happier.

Finally, you told him gently that you needed to finish the laundry, and then the two of you could go outside for a walk. This, somehow, convinced him to calm down, left playing with the bubbles and giggling to himself until he was interrupted by a voice calling your name from the hall.

Signor Bronte.

“Get these men drinks,” you heard, his spoken Italian echoing across the hall.

Immediately, you put the wash down and wiped your hands on your dirtied apron before hustling to the liquor cabinet. “Wait here, Jack. I’ll just bring the whisky out and be right back,” you instructed, quickly gathering six whisky glasses and a serving tray.

This had been your job for years, you could practically do it blindfolded. As one of the youngest servants in the house, Signor Bronte tended to like to have you wait on his more esteemed guests. It was degrading, but it kept you in his good graces. You had seen enough servants come and go to know that complaining about your role would get you nowhere. Or worse.

Quickly, you pulled a decanter from the cabinet, and left the room with the tray full of glasses in your hands. Already in the hallway, you could hear the conversation between the men in the room. “Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan, John Marston,” introduced one of the strangers, his voice confident.

You brushed past Irvin, who was standing guard at the entrance, into extravagant parlour. Upon entering the room, you could immediately see that these were not the typical guests that Signor Bronte would waste his good whisky on, but you hardly had time to look at them individually. They seemed dirty, rough, and completely out of place in the richly-decorated parlour.

“The pleasure is mine, all mine, please,” he said, summoning you forward. You warily step between the chairs to place the tray on the table and pour the glasses, handing them to each man in turn. First, to a tall, thin man with dark hair and a frustrated scowl etched into his face. Next, a muscular man with light brown hair and bright teal eyes, and finally, another dark-haired man, his hair slick with pomade and dressed in clothing that looked like it used to be expensive.

“So, can my friend have his son?” says one of the men - the one who had introduced them all earlier. You nearly froze. Can my friend have his son?

Jack.

It took you just a moment to gather your wits before you turned to your boss, handing him the last glass. He took it with a nod to you and a chuckle, before looking back at the men in front of him. “Of course, of course!” he grinned, taking a sip of the whisky. You immediately got yourself out of the way, standing behind the couch in case you were needed for anything else, as you had been taught. “But… should I be out of pocket over a misunderstanding? Of course I know you would not want that…”

“No,” answered the man, slightly reluctantly. You noted that none of the other men had yet spoken, this must be their leader.

Bronte seemed satisfied with their response, choosing to ignore the reluctance with a jovial laugh. “No, no no. So, how about this? You perform a simple job for me and you get your son back,” he explained, rubbing his hands together like the villain he was.

Finally, one of the other men spoke.“What is it?” the larger of the two groaned, beginning to stand up, as if he knew he would be assigned to this task.

Bronte, of course, made light of the situation, waving his hands through the air as he spoke, “A couple of people have taken to grave robbing in the cemetery.”

“That is a fine place for it, the best,” joked the leader. You cringed, but Signor Bronte seemed to enjoy it.

Your boss burst out laughing, from the gut this time. “I love this guy, don’t you love him?” he laughed, looking at you. You nodded, plastering a smile to your face until he turned back to the other man. “I love you!” He paused for a moment to pour himself another glass of whisky before continuing his explanation. “See they’ve taken not only to desecrating the dead, but they've done so without paying a tribute to the living. Thing is, they see my men, of course, they run a mile. So maybe you two head off, huh?” he said, indicating to the men on the couch before pouring yet another glass of whisky and handing it to the group’s leader. “And you, Mr. Van der Linde? Why don’t you tell me more about my manners?” he finished speaking and held up the glass to the other man, Mr. van der Linde, for a toast as the other two men stood to leave the room. “Salute.”

“Salute,” parroted Mr. van der Linde, clinking his glass with your boss’s. The other two men exited the room, as your boss and Mr. van der Linde continued conversing. Their laughter was real, but something in the room was tense, fake. Two men cut from the same cloth, both trying to one-up the other without making it completely obvious.

You had seen this enough times to know that this would only end badly for at least one of them - if not both.

The hour dragged on, as you stood in the corner, ready to jump into service if need be. Your mind drifted to Jack - now sitting alone in the washroom - and that you would soon be saying goodbye.

It was bittersweet, this feeling that came over you. You wanted him to be happy, to be home with his family, of course, but over the course of the last few weeks, he had wormed his way into your heart. He was the family, the son, that you would never have. And it broke your heart to have to let him go.

But you knew better. You couldn’t keep him here. Not for you. It was better if he were able to go home, to see his mother and his family, to see his dog that he missed so much. That was the life he needed, the life he deserved.

You felt the tears well in your eyes as you stood, waiting for your orders. A little over three hours had passed, and the men were still away. Signor Bronte and Mr. van der Linde were well into their cups, and you were not surprised in the least when your boss stood and unceremoniously sent his guest on his way.

“And the boy?” asked Mr. van der Linde, standing from his position on the couch and reaching out a hand to shake.

Signor Bronte took it, gave it a quick shake and began to stagger out of the room. “Yes, yes,” he slurred, turning to you on his way. “Bring him down, would you?”

“Yes, Signore,” you nodded, looking from your boss to the other man. It was really happening. It was really time to say goodbye.

To say Jack was excited at the news was putting it lightly. He had nearly bounced with joy when you had told him that his Pa was here to pick him up. You had led him down the stairs and out the front door to where Mr. van der Linde was waiting patiently. Jack nearly tackled him to the ground in his excitement.

“Uncle Dutch!” he called, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist.

A loud, barking laugh left the man as he patted Jack’s head. “Well hello there, son,” he said, a smile on his face. “It’s good to see you again. We’ve missed you around camp.”

You smiled, looking at the two of them. This was the right thing to do. But then, Jack did something wholly unexpected. He led Dutch to you, and introduced you.

“She’s been real nice since I got here,” he explained to the older man. “She told me stories and brought me candy, and today she even put bubbles on my head!” his excited giggles echoed across the yard.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Dutch said, looking you up and down before reaching out for your hand, which he then pulled to his lips in a theatrical show of chivalry. “And thank you so much for taking such good care of our boy.”

You plastered another smile to your face and gently pulled your hand away, wary of potentially offending the well-armed man. “Of course,” you responded. “I was happy to-” you were cut off by the well-timed sound of horse hooves on the cobblestones, and a loud, rough voice ringing in your ears.

“Like I said, we’ll see where we’re at once we got Jack,” said one of the men from earlier as their horses came to a halt in front of the gate. They dismounted and were immediately let in by one of the front guards.

Upon their arrival, Dutch seemed to immediately forget your existence, instead striding towards the two men with an exasperated, “Well, you took your time.”

And then there was Jack, nearly bursting with excitement at the sight of the men, he couldn’t wait until they were through the gate before he ran to them with a cry of, “Pa!”

The sight warmed your heart. Jack was quickly picked up and clutched to the chest of the taller, dark-haired man as the other moved past you to hand something to the guards. “I’m so glad to see you!” he said, rubbing the back of Jack’s head and holding him close.

However, Jack, completely oblivious to the nature of the situation, wiggled free of his father’s arms and, instead, grabbed his hand and pulled the man in your direction. “Pa, come here, come here, you have to meet my friend!” he said, voice loud and excited, as he introduced you to his father. “She’s been helping me since I got here. She tells the best stories!”

The man looked down at Jack with a loving smile and then up to you. “That so?” he asked the boy, reaching out to shake your hand. “John Marston.”

You took his and introduced yourself as Jack rambled on, “Yeah! And she taught me how to make bread real good, want to see?”

“Sure, you can show us when we get back to camp,” John acquiesced, still holding tight to the boy’s hand, who then proceeded to drag the two of you over to the one man you did not yet have a name for.

“Uncle Arthur!” he called. The man, having dropped off whatever he had needed to give Signor Bronte, was leaning against a column and smoking. “You have to meet my friend too.”

“Is that right?” he said, smiling at Jack. He pushed himself off the column and snubbed his cigarette on his boot, moving toward the three of you. “Nice to meet you, miss,” for the third time that night, a hand was held out.

You shook it and introduced yourself, “It’s nice to meet you too.”

John, looking both relieved and exhausted, heaved Jack back into his arms. “Thank you for taking care of him, I-”

Immediately, you stopped him. “It weren’t no problem, really. He’s a lovely boy,” you explained, once again trying to stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. Taking care of Jack had easily been one of the highlights of your life. Having someone need you, someone that loved talking to you, someone who was simply excited to be around you - it was such a drastic change from how you had lived for so long. And, even if you would never experience it again, you wouldn’t trade the last few weeks for the world.

John nodded, you didn’t have to explain any further. “Comeon, Jack, your ma’s been worried sick.” Jack nodded to his father enthusiastically, a grin on his face, before turning and surprising you with a big hug.

You bent over to hug him back, patting him on his head when you heard your name. “You’re coming with us, right?” he asked, his tiny face buried in your dress. You looked around at the others, Arthur had paused in his tracks, John was frozen in place, Dutch was stopped near the gate. No one said anything for a moment.

You don’t know how to break it to him.

So, you pull his face from your skirt and kiss him gently on the forehead, a bittersweet smile on your lips. “I’m real sorry, Jack,” you say, looking him in the eye, “but not this time.” You felt tempted to say something like I promise I’ll write or You can come see me any time but you knew both of these things weren’t true. He would get home to his family, and in a few days you would just be a stranger from his childhood. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stood again, ruffling his hair and turning him to face his father. “Now, you go on back to your family, alright? Teach them how to make some good bread, like I showed you.”

His head was shaking as he looked back up at you, tears welling in his big brown eyes. “But…”

This hurt. More than saying goodbye to a child you had only known for a few weeks should. “I know, but…” you started, still not entirely sure how to explain yourself. “I have to stay here. This… this is my home.” You pull him to you once again in a tight hug and place a kiss on the top of his head. “You be good for your parents, alright?”

You can feel him nod under your chin, but he does not respond. It’s easy to tell that this is a new feeling for him - being so happy and so sad all at once. You wished you could tell him that its only temporary, and he will never have these conflicting feelings again. You wished you could have gone with him, broken free of Angelo Bronte and this life. There were so many things you wished you could do at that moment, but you couldn’t. Or you wouldn’t.

With a light sob, Jack wraps his arms around you one final time until he is gently pulled away by his father. “Comeon, son. We should get going.”

They walked to the gate together, John’s hand on his son’s back, leading the way. Jack was hoisted high onto a horse, and you could vaguely hear them talking to him, trying to cheer him up. “We have a new camp set up, Jack, you’re going to love it,” says Dutch before they ride off down the street.

Finally, you allow your tears to fall.

“Goodbye, Jack.”

---

The days pass slowly after Jack’s goodbye. There is little entertainment to pass the time. No dumb jokes, no begging for stories. It was exactly as it was before. Still, it felt like something was missing.

Early in the morning, a few days later, you walked around the house as usual, coffee in hand. You mused over the tasks for the days ahead: the Governor's garden party was in about a week, so it was time to start preparing. Clothes needed to be pressed, shoes to be shined, and, most importantly, mounds of food needed to be cooked.

Giovanni’s cooking was, although rarely shared outside of Signor Bronte’s home, lauded as some of the best in town. So, of course, Angelo Bronte’s personal chef would be graciously catering the meal.

It was supposed to be a sign of generosity, you theorised, but in reality it was all a show to keep Signor Bronte in the San Denis elite’s good graces - and to worm his way into another favor from the mayor.

You chuckled lightly to yourself as you paced slowly around the perfectly manicured gardens. Marble statues, imported from Italy, gazed down at you, unmoving. Quietly, you began to hum a short tune, not noticing the figure at the fence across from you.

“Mornin’,” he called, his voice low and gruff, just as it had been when you had first met him.

You look up from the grass to the man, in surprise. He was leaning aginst the fence, patiently smoking a cigarette, and waiting. For you? “Ah, good morning, Mr. Morgan,” you call, making your way to him. He stubs out his cigarette on his boot and turns to fully face you. Only now, in the morning sunlight and away from the stress of Angelo Bronte, do you notice how attractive he is. Light brown hair framed an unshaven face, a strong jawline, light smattering of chest hair showing through the top of his unbuttoned collar. “It’s lovely to see you again. How is Jack doing?”

Arthur smiles at you, and the sun suddenly seems slightly brighter. “Boah’s doin’ good,” he says, leaning forward on the fence, one arm above his head to balance himself. “He’s happy to be home.”

You shoot him a small, bittersweet smile before turning your gaze to your coffee. “Good, I’m glad.”

“Misses you, though,” he continues, once he realises you aren’t going to say anything more. You look up at him, and notice he is fishing something out of his satchel. A small, folded piece of paper is passed through the bars of the fence, and you gently pluck it from his hand. “Sent this. Special delivery.”

You gently unfold the paper, and see a row of several stick figures, several people and what looks to be a dog, standing in front of some trees under a sunny sky. Under each of the figures, you can see several names scribbled in an adult’s hand.

Pa, Ma, Jack, Cain, Uncle Arthur… and you.

“Been told to tell you,” he continues, reaching through the fence with the hand that had been keeping him balanced and pointed at the figures on the paper. “That’s you… with us…”

You laugh lightly, glancing from the paper to the eyes of the man in front of you. A handsome teal, complimented by his, admittedly dirty, blue shirt. How had you not noticed him before? “This is real sweet of him, thank you,” you breathe, slightly softer than you had intended. You turn again to look at the drawing, hoping he didn’t notice the blush that had suddenly stained your cheeks.

The two of you stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the sun rise above the horizon. “You could come with us, you know,” he said after a minute, pulling another cigarette from his satchel and lighting it. “The boah would shoa be happy to have you ‘round.”

You smile at the thought. Waking up in the fresh air, telling Jack stories, getting to know his family. It would be lovely. But at the end of the day, it was easier said than done. “That… that’s a nice dream,” you told him, smiling.

He huffed, and took a long drag from his cigarette. “It’s true,” he tells you, leaning against the fence once more. “The life… well it ain’t pretty. Sure as hell not as pretty as livin’ in a mansion. But it’s free. You ain’t gotta answer to no one you don’t want.”

You scoffed and found yourself kicking at the grass beneath your feet. It would surely be better than what you had here. Hell, it would be easy enough to walk through the gates with the intention to never come back. And, what was even keeping you here? Your family? You hadn’t seen them in years. Giovanni? Anna? They would both leave if they could.

But, you knew it wasn’t possible. You’ve seen this kind of thing before. One of your fellow servants found a means of escape, only to be back within a week. If they weren’t found and killed onsight. Angelo Bronte had eyes in every corner. Flies on every wall. He would find you.

“I… I wish I could.”

You went to bed late that evening, your conversation with Arthur resounding in your head. You could come with us, you know. The boy would sure be happy to have you around. The thought had even permeated your dreams, enveloping you in a fantasy world. A beautiful campsite by a river, a group of people, happy, laughing, free. Jack and Arthur and John and Dutch, and even Giovanni and Anna. They were all there, and they were all happy.

But, of course, the threat lingered. What had started as a beautiful dream quickly turned sour as Angelo Bronte entered the scene, scaring away your friends, capturing you and dragging you back to San Denis, into a mansion that looked more like a prison with every step. You would never escape him. You could never be free.

You had woken early in the morning, covered in sweat and sheets kicked from the bed. Breathing heavily, you glanced at the clock in the corner of the room. It was early, but not early enough to warrant going back to sleep. Groaning, you stepped quietly from your bed and pulled on your dressing gown. Your morning ritual would begin earlier today.

The air was crisp, but your coffee was hot - the perfect combination for waking a person up in the morning. The birds sang in their early morning chorus as the slowly rising sun cast everything in a calm, light blue. It was earlier than you had been up in ages, and you were fully prepared to sit in the garden, alone, and bask in the peacefulness.

To your surprise, however, the increasingly-familiar smell of cigarette smoke and campfire reached you. You turned to the fence, the same place as the day prior, to be greeted by the rugged cowboy, leaning casually against the railing. Tired as you were, you couldn’t keep the smile from lighting up your face.

“Good morning, Mr. Morgan,” you say, making your way over to him, coffee cradled in both hands. You took a sip, thinking that you may need to start making two cups if this becomes a habit. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon. How’s Jack?”

Arthur’s grin immediately made your stomach flip. “Mornin’, miss,” he responded, tipping his hat to you. He lazilly flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground before leaning against the fence again, his arm above his head, like he had done the day before. “Boah’s doin’ good. Still talkin�� ‘bout you.” His grin never left his face as he looked at you.

You cleared your throat and maintained eye contact even though you were sure you could feel the blush spreading across your cheeks. “Well, ain’t he a sweetheart?” you tease, only partially talking about Jack.

He chuckled and reached into his bag, mirroring his actions from the day prior. “I been asked to deliver this,” he said, pulling out a string of slightly crumpled red flowers from his bag. They were strung together, tied at the stems, into a long, vibrant necklace.

You gingerly took the necklace from him with a smile, examining it. Wild yarrow. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” you respond, pulling it over your head before striking a cheesy pose for the man in front of you. “How do I look?”

God, you could look at his smile all day. “Gorgeous,” he responds, only slightly teasing, and you are suddenly struck with a feeling of giddy embarrassment. It was rare that you got on with someone this well, this quickly. But with Arthur Morgan, despite his rough exterior, you felt strangely comfortable.

The two of you stood together, talking through the morning sunrise until you were very nearly late for work. When the sun was almost fully above the horizon, you found yourself giggling and dashing into the house, with one last glance to the cowboy at the fence, eyes shining.

And so it went.

For the next week, like clockwork, you would wake, go for your walk, and meet Arthur Morgan at the fence. Gifts, supposedly all from Jack, were exchanged - a nice rock, a beautiful notebook, a seashell, a fountain pen - and you sent your fair share of notes back, including candy for the boy, and a (stolen) flask of good whisky for your postman.

Soon enough, you found yourself gladly waking earlier in the morning - butterflies in your stomach as you made your way outside to greet him. Your mood was better, despite Jack’s farewell only a week ago, and even your colleagues had taken notice.

“What’s got you walking around here all smiles lately?” Anna had asked on the morning before the Mayor’s garden party, as you sat together, adding finishing touches to several large pies that were to go into the oven.

You scoffed, still unable to wipe the smile from your face, and looked at her over the stack of pans in front of you. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you responded. “Now don’t distract yourself with me, we need to get this all ready to take this afternoon.” Your chiding didn’t deter her, as she continued pestering you the rest of the day.

Her teasing had very little effect on your mood, however, despite the large amount of work ahead of you. And, so, the day passed quickly, in anticipation of the coming evening. It was well known throughout San Denis that Angelo Bronte had one of the best chef’s in town under his employ, so the household staff was asked to provide a portion of the catering. It was a massive, and time consuming project, but it was well worth the work.

You finally had the opportunity to get out of the house, even if it were for just an evening, which would be an incredible change of pace. Almost before you could even gather your bearings, you were slipping into your best uniform, and were on your way to the even larger home.

You had been to the Mayor’s home a handful of times, but it still left you in awe. If you had thought that Angelo Bronte lived in the lap of luxury, but this home was somehow even more opulent. Marble pillars, statues lining the hallways, mahogany floors, golden chandeliers, art on every wall. You had to make a conscious effort to not allow your jaw to drop as you walked through the hallways to the kitchen. There was no time to dawdle, guests would be arriving shortly.

With an unintentional grunt, you hoisted the box of chopped vegetables you were carrying onto a table, and got to work helping Giovanni finish up a large pot of étouffée. It took some time, but after some significant effort from yourself, Giovanni, and Anna, as well as plenty of help from the Mayor’s own servants, the food was served and guests were mingling in the garden.

You leaned carefully against a counter and wiped sweat from your brow. Cooking for upwards of 100 people was exhausting, not to mention that the kitchen was absolutely scalding. You could use a large glass of water and a breath of fresh air.

Nodding at your colleagues, you told them as much before stepping into the hallway and taking a deep breath of the cooler air. If you were lucky, no one would be on the upstairs balcony, and you could head out and watch the fireworks for a few minutes. As you made your way to the back staircase, hoping that the balcony would be empty, you spotted a flash of a black tuxedo and familiar light brown hair in front of you.

Arthur Morgan. Now what was he doing here?

With a smirk, you carefully followed him up the stairs, catching a further glimpse of him as he entered the first door on the second floor. You hadn’t been up here before, but with the way he was walking, you could be sure that he wasn’t sneaking off to the toilet.

Glancing around, you saw no one else in the hallway.

Good.

Slowly, carefully, you pushed open the door to what appeared to be an office. And there, in all his glory, was Arthur Morgan, rummaging through the Mayor’s desk. As you snuck in and quietly closed the door behind you, he slipped a small stack of papers into his tuxedo jacket.

You took a moment to look over him. Damn, he cleaned up well. A recent haircut, clean shaven, and a brand new tuxedo made him look like an entirely new man. Not that you had any problem with the bearded, dirt-covered version of him that had been meeting you all week.

“You ain’t supposed to be here,” you said quietly, startling him. He turned to you, wide-eyed, his hand instinctively flying to where his pistol was usually holstered. He was red in the face, adrenaline pumping, and you had to admit that it was a very good decision to not allow weapons at this party.

Upon seeing you, however, he noticeably relaxed. Face still red, he glanced quickly around the room before moving toward you, a predator stalking its prey. “Could say the same to you,” he whispered, voice low, as he backed you slowly toward the door.

That familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach rose again as he neared, but you held your chin high in defiance - and then you did something even you didn’t quite expect. You kissed him.

Lunged would be a more accurate description. You closed the distance between the two of you in a second, lips crashing with his. You had only known him for a week, but somehow it felt like you had been wanting to do this your entire life.

After a moment of shock, he returned the kiss, lips frantically moving with yours as he wrapped his hands around your body. He was warm and strong, and smelled of campfire and cologne and you wanted to get lost in him. You wanted to lose yourself with him. Reaching up, you ran your fingers through his hair until you reached the base of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

He moved with you, slowly, steps matching yours, until your back was flush against the door. For only a moment, he pulled away. You heard the light click of a key and he was on you again, hands fluttering over your hips as he began to work his lips down your jawline. You had to swallow the moan threatening to spill from your lips as you pulled him impossibly closer, fingers toying with the ends of his hair. Then you pulled.

He leaned back with a guttural groan, following your hands as you gently pulled at the hairs on the nape of his neck. His cheeks were flushed, hair mussed, and he looked absolutely gorgeous. You couldn’t help yourself as you pulled him back to you, wrapping your arms around his neck and crashing your lips to his.

The taste of him, the feel of him, it was overwhelming and you wished you could be surrounded by him like this for the rest of your life. Silently, lips still on yours, he turned the two of you so that your back was against the nearby bookshelf. You lifted a leg and wrapped it around his, grinding into him without breaking your kiss.

Before you knew what was happening, his hands moved from your hips to pull up the skirt of your dress and finger the waistband of your bloomers. A nip at the bottom of your lip brought out a groan from you as he slowly made his way into your underclothes, exploring until he found your core.

Gently, he toyed with your lower lips, ghosting his fingers along the outside teasingly. If you were in any other state of mind, you would have been embarrassed about the way your hips began moving - wantonly, desperately, trying to maneuver his exploratory fingers exactly where you wanted them.

But Arthur Morgan was apparently not feeling cooperative. He pulled away from your kiss and brought his hand out of your bloomers at the same time, leading you to throw your head back against the bookshelf with a desperate groan.

The twinkle in his eyes matched the mischievous smirk on his face as he looked down at you, your breathing heavy, cheeks flushed. The cocky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, and he was enjoying this. This torment.

With a sudden burst of courage that you didn’t know you had in you, you found yourself pushing him backward. Hands on his chest, you led him roughly to the mayor’s desk, and lunged. Lips crashed once again with his, the taste of whisky and tobacco overwhelming you once again. Your fingers toyed with his tuxedo jacket before slipping underneath and sliding it from his shoulders.

As good as he looked in this outfit, he was far too clothed for your taste.

Next came his vest, unbuttoned with help from him as you both lost your patience. You peeled his suspenders off until they hung loosely at his sides, and finally all that stood between you and his bare chest was his shirt. He yanked it roughly from his pants, the two of you unbuttoning it as quickly as your shaking fingers allowed, and flung it across the room before leaning in for another desperate kiss.

As his lips met yours once again, you felt him push you back toward the bookshelf as he untied your apron to pull it over your head. Next, his fingers unbuttoned the high collar of your dress, quickly followed quickly by his lips as he placed kisses and nips on your flushed skin. He trailed ever downward - to your collarbone, to your cleavage - drawing moans from your parted lips.

Desperately, you reached for his face and pulled him back up to you, caressing the smooth shaven skin as you kissed. Once satisfied, your hands wandered downward, toying with the hair splayed across the hot, hard panes of his chest. Slowly, teasingly, you followed the path of his hair with your fingers until you reached the top of his pants, and his breath hitched in your mouth.

Your kiss slowed and turned into a peck as you undid the button and pushed his pants down, revealing muscular thighs framing a growing bulge hidden under his underclothes. Pushing down the thin cotton finally revealed his swollen member, which you took gently into your hand as you pulled him in for another heated kiss.

He groaned into your mouth, growing impossibly harder with each stroke, until he pulled away to look you into the eye. His face was flushed, his hair in shambles, and you swore you had never seen anything so beautiful in your entire life. You nodded, and allowed him to hoist up your skirt and slide into you through the slit in your bloomers.

In unison, groans left both of your mouths. You were balanced precariously on a bookshelf, your leg wrapped around his waist as he sank into you, head thrown back in pleasure. Once he gathered his bearings, he slowly, torturously slowly, began to move.

He thrust in and out, in and out, his face buried into your shoulder. Each thrust was paired with a small grunt and a gasp from you. You reveled in the feeling, the warmth, the intensity.

His hands gripped your hips through the fabric of your dress, pulling you closer to him with each thrust. You wrapped your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him up to you. Your lips met, tongues entangled as tiny gasps swelled up from your throat. It was all you could do to keep in the loud moan that was threatening to spill from your lips.

With each thrust, the bookshelves shook, sending a few trinkets to the carpeted floor with a light thump. You should be more careful. The thought echoed in your mind for only a second before it was whisked away by another thrust that shook you to the core.

As he grew closer and closer to completion, his thrusts became faster, more frantic, and you found yourself clutching the edges of the shelf for balance.

Finally, he pulled one of his hands from your hip and wormed it between your bodies to find the place where he had teased you so well before. And then he pressed. And rubbed. And stroked. And finally, in a glaring flash of white before your eyes, you found yourself biting down on his shoulder to keep from screaming his name. Your body shook, your breathing came in harsh gasps, until you could finally open your eyes.

Not a second later, Arthur took a few final thrusts and pulled out of you, stroking his member once, twice, and then spilling himself on the floor with a series of loud gasps. A shaky breath followed as he fell onto you, his head balancing on your chest to catch his breath.

Finally, there was silence, only broken occasionally by a heaving breath. The two of you huddled together against the bookshelves, clinging to each other until you could regain your balance.

You found yourself leaning hard against the shelf behind you, running your fingers through Arthur’s mussed hair. “Those last few gifts… the journal, the pen… those weren’t from Jack, were they?” you asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

A low chuckle came from Arthur, still bent forward with his head balanced on your chest. “I s’pose I’ve been caught again…”

The party ended with a spectacular fireworks show, which you and Arthur watched together, now fully clothed and hidden from sight on the empty balcony. Shortly after the last firework had lit up the night sky, he left you with a lingering kiss that you swore you felt on your lips for the rest of the evening.

To say your head was in the clouds would have been putting it lightly. You would have never expected such a rough, dirty man to be your knight in shining armor, but here you were.

Your good mood carried over through the party cleanup, into the night, and even on into the morning during your daily walk. Glancing at the gate where he usually stood, you were slightly disheartened to see his spot empty. Your smile faltered for just a moment, before you reasoned with yourself. He was probably just tired, or hungover, and just because he had showed up every day for the last week and a half did not mean he could keep up that habit forever.

So, you sat and waited for nearly a half an hour at your normal meeting spot, before heading back inside only slightly disheartened. He had a life outside of meeting you, you reminded yourself, it was unfair to assume he would be there every day when he had never promised this.

Despite your disappointment, your good mood persisted through the day. Through stained laundry, through dusting and mopping, through cleaning a massive pile of cooking dishes from the night before - you couldn’t have wiped the smile off of your face.

And then he didn’t show up again. And again. And again.

For over a week, you missed Arthur’s presence on your morning walks. You found yourself waiting at the fence each day, coffee and the morning paper in hand to pass the time, only to end up disappointed once again. At the very least, there seemed to be a lot of dramatic news to report that week - a trolley station robbery ending with a crashed trolly on main street, a wealthy man on a steamboat robbed for all he was worth - but that information only helped pass the time you spent waiting for him.

Outside of your morning walks, your mood slowly soured. Maybe Arthur had gotten what he wanted. Maybe the dirty, lecherous outlaw’s only goal was to bed you and be on his way. Maybe Jack had forgotten you completely, and with nothing new to deliver, so had Arthur.

You took to writing angrily in the journal he had gotten you, having no other reasonable outlet for your emotions. Originally, you had wanted to toss the damn thing into the fire, but - without someone to vent to, without someone who could understand the depths of your frustration - it seemed like such a waste. Instead, you chose to use the gift for its intended purpose, and wrote down all of your frustrations toward the man who had gifted it to you, before stuffing it underneath your pillow and falling asleep for the night.

There it lay, throughout the day and night until you finally did see Arthur Morgan again. A loud crash, followed by gunshots and yelling in Italian and English from the back gardens, met your ears as you cleaned up after dinner with Anna and Giovanni.

“We’re comin’ for you, Bronte! Send out every man you got!”

The three of you had no guns, and even if you had it sounded less like a gunfight and more like a massacre. Quickly, you locked the doors, hoping that it would be enough to deter the intruders. And then, huddled together out of sight with your friends, you waited.

The back door was kicked open with a gunshot and a loud bang. More gunshots, screams, and crashes echoed through the hallway and into the kitchen. You heard the yells get closer, before the kitchen door was shot and forcefully kicked open.

This was it, this would be your end.

Only, it wasn’t.

Standing in the doorframe was none other than Arthur Morgan, shotgun in hand, eyes frantic… until he caught sight of you.

“Comeon,” he said, rushing over to where the three of you were huddled together and pulling you up by the arm. “You three gotta get outta here,” he ordered, gruffly, hurriedly, as he opened one of the larger windows. “We only came from the back, so head to the front and go somewhere safe.”

Giovanni and Anna looked from each other to you, and then to the open window, hesitant. Another volley of gunfire reached your ears from inside the house. There was no time for debate. “Go ahead,” you told them. “We can trust him.”

That (plus another few rounds of gunfire in quick succession) was all it took. Giovanni nodded to you, grabbed Anna by the forearm, and they were out the window and running across the lawn to safety. You breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to Arthur. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wanted to ask, but there was no time.

As if sensing your hesitation, he took you by the shoulders and pulled you in for a hug. “Go,” he said, face buried into your hair. “Get to the Fontana, I’ll meet you there when this is over.” You could have sworn you felt a light kiss atop your head before he pressed a crumpled ten dollar bill into your palm and lightly pushed you in the direction of the open window. “Get outta here.”

You nodded, mouthing a quick “thank you” before climbing through the window. In the distance, you could see Anna and Giovanni, silhouetted against the night sky. They were running as fast as they could, to safety, and you felt a pang in your chest. They had been the closest thing you had had to a family for so long. The three of you had been forced together by fate, and had come out a team. But… where would you end up if you followed them?

Likely back in the service of another rich man. But, maybe it would be better. Maybe the freedom you found yourself longing for was to be found in the familiar, the known. Could you really abandon your friends, your way of life, for the promise of a man you had known for little more than a few weeks?

Quickly, you glanced in the opposite direction, toward the city. Toward the Fontana. Toward the promise of freedom. The clock was ticking, you needed to decide. Now.

Torn between what was and what could be, you took a deep breath and took the advice of a child who was far too wise for his age. You ran toward the Fontana. You ran as fast as you could to a new life.

The sound of gunfire and screams followed you to the gates, where it then became overwhelmed by the shouts and sirens of incoming police. Luckily, you were able to slip outside of the gate and get partially down the street before they stopped in front of the house.

Bowing your head, you quickly made your way down the cobblestone street and into the city, away from the violence. By the time you reached the Fontana Theater, the gunshots had all but faded into the hustle and bustle of the city center, and you became acutely aware of how much you didn’t belong. It had been years since you had been anywhere outside of Signore Bronte’s mansion other than the grocery and occasional trip to the tailors. It had been even longer since the last time you had been to a Magic Lantern Theater. And you knew, with your hair mussed and maid’s uniform, you must stick out like a sore thumb.

Luckily, if your memory served, the theater should be dark enough that no one would notice. You slowed your pace, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, and proceeded to the ticket counter, purchasing one ticket to the three upcoming shows. That should be more than enough time, you hoped.

You entered the dimly lit room and practically collapsed into one of the seats. Now that you had managed to escape, now that you were in relative safety, the adrenaline you had felt earlier had completely vanished. You were exhausted. You were confused. You were scared.

Now, you could only wait, and hope that Arthur would be back for you as promised.

In front of you, the film started with a flicker. The recorded voice of a man telling the story of several forest animals as a series of images were projected onto the screen. The room was silent, except for the recording, and you found yourself struggling to keep your eyes open.

What must have been a few hours later, you were shaken awake by an unfamiliar man. You were startled for only a minute before you realised that he was the same man who had sold you the tickets earlier. “That’s the last showing for the day, miss,” he was saying, quietly, pulling his hand away from your shoulder. “I’m afraid you’ll need to be on your way, now.”

You blinked and looked around the room, now flooded with light. It was empty except for the two of you. “What… what time is it?” you stammered, voice cracking lightly.

“‘Bout 11:30,” he responded, looking quickly to his pocket watch to confirm. You had been asleep for a solid 4 hours, and Arthur hadn’t yet arrived. “You should get on home.”

Home. Where was that?

You stood, nodding abashedly at the man. “Thank you,” you murmured before making your way out of the theater and into the dark streets.

It was quiet, the same kind of quiet you had grown so used to on your morning walks. However, instead of finding it calm and refreshing, you found yourself longing for the noisy streets. The hustle and bustle of San Denis that would overpower your thoughts, that would drown out your anxieties.

Instead, you were alone, left to mull over your current situation on the steps of the theater. The long, dark tendrils of doubt crept into your mind as you waited. Did you make the right choice? Did Arthur abandon you? Was all of this some horrible trick? Tears spilled silently from your eyes as you waited. Exhausted. Frustrated. Sad. The only thing to break you out of your thought spiral was the occasional drunk would wander by, heading home for the evening.

Eventually, the ground where you sat grew cold, and you found yourself falling asleep against the wall of the theater, huddled up like an abandoned animal. You could sleep here tonight, in case he did show up, and head … somewhere … in the morning. A hotel, maybe? A workhouse? You didn’t know where, but that was a thought for the morning.

It was only when the steady clip-clop clip-clop of horse hooves made their way down the dark street that you willed yourself to look up. Coming slowly into view through the darkness was a lone rider on a horse. He looked exhausted, frustrated, as he stopped his horse in front of the theater and dismounted, glancing around the area until he spotted you.

You stood on legs that were strangely both stiff and shaky and made your way over to him, where he pulled you into a tight hug.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled, once again burying his face in your hair. “Didn’t mean to leave you so long.” You nodded against his chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt as tears of relief threatened to spill. “Let’s get you home.”

The ride went by in a blur. Not that you were moving fast, but rather because you were so exhausted that everything was a bit of a haze. You must have arrived at the large, dilapidated mansion early into the morning, before anyone was up to disturb you, because you could not remember the journey into Arthur’s bed for the life of you.

There was no crunch of the grass as you slid off the saddle, no creek of the stairs, no groan of the bed as the two of you lay down together. Nothing. All you could remember was that you were here. You were safe. You were home.

You awoke around midday, sunlight streaming through the broken windows of a small-rundown room overlooking the swamps of Lemoyne. It was sweltering hot, but you found yourself cuddling closer into the strong arms that were wrapped around you. The scent of the swamps mixed with whisky and tobacco, campfire and gunsmoke, as you nuzzled into his chest.

He was breathing deeply, soundly, as you lifted your head from his chest to look around. The room itself was old and dilapidated, it would barely serve as a shelter during any storms that may strike. In the far corner stood an old shelf, filled with photos and trinkets. Next to it, a small table with a map, and across from that, a larger table, stacked to the brim with weapons and ammunition.

Arthur’s room.

You stood, intending to make your way over to examine the trinkets across the room, but were instead gently pulled back to bed by the man behind you. “Mornin’,” he grumbled, not bothering to open his eyes as he held you close.

You acquiesced, leaning back into him and basking in his presence. “Mornin’, Mr. Morgan,” you whispered back to him, gazing over his face. His eyes were still closed, but he couldn’t keep a small smile from forming as you spoke. Gently, you brushed hair away from his forehead and planted a light kiss to the revealed skin. “Thank you.”

He chuckled, finally opening his eyes to look at you. You could have melted in the soft, loving look that came your way. “Nothin’ to thank me for,” he said, reaching up to run his thumb along your cheek in admiration. “Just needed to get you out alive, is all.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “I feel like that deserves thanks.”

A scoff came from the man beside you. “Nah, it was all selfish, really,” he explained, his gaze travelling over every inch of your face as if he were committing it to memory. “I just wanted to keep you ‘round.” With that, he planted a quick kiss on your lips and sat up, turning to his satchel that had been tossed to the floor by the bed. “It weren’t pretty last night… ‘n’ I’m glad I got to you before it got worse.”

“What happened?” you asked, watching as he pulled the satchel to him and began to rifle through it.

“Bronte… well he done his best to screw us over,” he explained. “Set some traps for us… ‘n’ Dutch made sure he paid for it.” You figured you knew what he meant, but let him continue anyway. “Bastard’s dead - some poor alligator’s breakfast.”

To your surprise, you felt incredibly conflicted. The man had essentially kept you hostage for the last few years, but he had at least taken care of you. He had by no means been a good person, but… you had grown some sort of strange affinity for him over the years. And yet, you didn’t find yourself shedding a tear for him. If anything, it was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, like you could finally breathe freely after so long.

You didn’t know what to say.

“I did manage to get hold of these, though,” he said, pulling several items from his satchel. You gasped when you saw them, and felt the tears that wouldn’t fall for Bronte begin to well up. In Arthur’s hands were a child’s drawing, a flower crown, a very special rock, a beautiful journal, and a fountain pen.

Now, the tears did fall as you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you, Arthur,” you said, burying your face into his neck. “Thank you so incredibly much.”

With a small chuckle, he set the momentos down on his lap, and wrapped his arms around you as well. “‘Course.”

The two of you stayed like that, reveling in each other’s embrace, for a few perfect, blissful minutes. So this is what it felt like to be wanted. This is what it felt like to have someone really, truly care about you. This is the feeling you had been waiting for for so long.

It wasn’t a minute later before there was a tentative knock on your door, and Arthur pulled himself away from the hug. “I think someone might be excited to see you,” he said, nodding toward the door.

You looked over, calling for the visitor to come in. As the door swung open, you were greeted with the sound of your name excitedly being called, and the sight of a child, red with excitement, standing in the doorway. Jack. “You’re here! You’re really here!” he exclaimed, darting over to you and jumping into your arms. He was followed by a smiling, dark-haired woman, and a man who you recognised as John. “I knew it! I knew you would come live with us!”

“Of course, Jack,” you childed, squeezing him tight. “I could never leave you.”

He squeezed you back, before pulling away and grabbing your forearm to lead you out of the room. “Come on!” he said, leading you forward. “You have to meet the rest of our family!”

#rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #f!reader #rdrbigbang2021 #rdrbigbang

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wave0fg00dvibes · 4 years

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Baby - Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Spencer’s daughter tries to tell him that she’s “not a baby anymore.” He doesn’t take it too well.

A/N: I’M FREAKING BACK, BABY! It has been so long and I’m so very sorry. Here is some tooth-rotting fluff for y’all because I love you. I actually wrote this for the lovely @thekatherinewinchester as a part of @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap, and it was SO fun to write. It also really helped me to have a deadline. I think I’m going to try to do that more often!

Please leave feedback if you have any! Lots and lots and LOTS of love, as always.

Category: FLUFF

Content Warning: None

Word Count: 1.7K

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The first time our daughter attempted to assert her independence, she had just turned 6 years old.

A morning routine with two young children was often chaotic, to say the least. However, the first day of school was always a special one. For some reason, something about this particular September morning made me extra grateful and reflective, even among the disarray.

1 ½ year old Grayson sat in his highchair, babbling nonstop. Though he had only just started eating his applesauce, it completely covered his face and arms. Before I knew it, he was using his spoon to fling the food onto the floor.

Was that an issue on the top of my priority list right now? Nope.

Ava sat at the kitchen table, swinging her legs and eating her cereal with the enthusiasm of an excited 1st grader. Her polka dot dress and matching headband were neatly and meticulously adjusted, revealing the hidden nerves within her initial excitement.

The small TV on the counter was tuned into the local news, though no one ever really listened. Even if anyone wanted to pay attention, Grayson’s babbling would probably drown it out anyway. It was mostly just background noise. But, selfishly, I liked to know the state the world was in before my husband left our home each morning to go make it better, safer. I liked to at least have some idea of what he was going to encounter, even if it meant certain days were filled with anxiety and worry.

Dealing with the unease and stress was a small price to pay for the unceasing love and immeasurable happiness.

To be honest, I never imagined a world where I’d be simultaneously getting our children ready for the day and scrambling eggs for Spencer as he slept in after a long night of work. I never imagined his severe, draining job would let us have even a sliver of happy domesticity. But, as I scraped the last of the eggs onto his now-full plate, I reflected on how lucky the universe had deemed us. This shouldn’t be a reality, and yet, I couldn't imagine our life together any differently.

“Mama?” The voice of my sweet girl snapped me out of my reflective moment.

“What is it, Ava?” I asked, momentarily pausing my motions. She turned around in her chair to face me, eagerness lighting up her small face.

“I’m really excited to go back to school.”

I couldn’t help but smile. She truly was her father’s daughter in every capacity.

“I’m so glad! You’re going to have an amazing day!”

Her bright, golden eyes sparkled, and she turned back to finish her cereal.

Spencer would definitely be up soon. There was no way he was going to miss the sendoff of his favorite girl on her first day of 1st grade.

There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that Ava was going to blow all of her teachers away. I insisted on keeping her in kindergarten for her first year of school so she could make friends and get used to that type of social environment, but now that she was starting more difficult content, I knew all bets were off. She was absolutely going to skip grades, make breakthroughs, and undoubtedly change the world.

But, thankfully, that was a conversation for another day, and one Spencer was undoubtedly going to have to help me through.

At that very moment, my sweet husband rushed into the kitchen, fastening his tie as he jogged. Even in his disheveled haste, the elation in his face and pep in his clumsy steps revealed that he was just as excited about this day as Ava, if not more.

Grayson babbled in the happiest tone he could muster at the sight of his daddy, and I couldn’t help but smile right along with him.

“Good morning, buddy!” Spencer smiled, crouching to meet Grayson’s eye level and pinch his chubby, applesauce covered cheek.

The tiny gesture took me back to a time when Spencer’s cares and worries were much different. Back then, he would never have thought to voluntarily reach for the grubby face of an infant, no matter how cute. But, six years and two kids later, this was a beautiful reminder of how much we had both changed, and how lucky we were to grow together and not apart.

However, in true Spencer Reid fashion, as soon as he was done making silly faces at our son, he padded over the sink to rid his hands of the sticky, grimy applesauce.

Everything may be different now, but some things never change.

As I packed Ava’s lunch, I felt his eyes on me from behind. Before I knew it, he lightly turned me away from my task and wrapped his arms completely around me, leaning down to rest his head on my shoulder.

“Thank you.” He softly whispered.

Forgetting the rush of the morning for a moment, I let myself sink into the embrace. For though our lives plowed forward at seemingly a million miles an hour, moments like these kept me grounded, sane.

“For what?” I asked.

“The extra sleep. The food. The babies. Everything.”

The case they returned from last night must have been a nasty one. Spencer was a very affectionate person, but something about this profession felt heavier.

Nevertheless, even after so many years, he still had the ability to make my heart skip a beat.

I pulled back from the hug to smile up at him, running my hands up his arms to get lost in his hair. His eyes reflected utter joy and gratitude, despite the fact that he had undoubtedly seen some horrifying things for the past few days.

“I love you so much.” The words flew out before I could stop them. Of course, I meant them with my whole heart, the phrase just seemed so mundane compared to my ever-growing, aching love for him.

The love in his eyes and sparkle in his smile told me he knew. He always knew.

He pressed a slow, firm kiss to my lips, hands coming to rest gently on my hips as we slowly swayed together.

“I love you too.” He whispered, and before I could fully savor it, the restless world started turning again.

Stealing moments with him would forever make my heart sing, but today needed to be about our sweet girl and nothing else. After all, according to her the first day of 1st grade marks the “beginning of the true educational journey.” Lord knows we couldn’t miss a second of that.

Spencer quickly walked over to the plate I had ready for him, setting it across from Ava at the table and kissing her head as he passed.

“Good morning, baby! Are you excited for your first day?”

Ava was silent. I felt the air in the room change as she put down her spoon and looked up at him, features completely serious. Somehow, I knew what was coming before she even opened her mouth, and Spencer was not going to like it.

“Daddy. I am not a baby.”

As expected, Spencer choked on the small piece of egg he had just attempted to swallow. In spite of the sad punch of the reality that my sweet girl was growing up, I nearly snorted, covering my mouth with my hand so as to not offend her.

Spencer looked absolutely dumbfounded.

“But, you are technically my baby-” He attempted to explain.

Ava was not having it. She took a deep breath, pushing her bowl of lucky charms aside so she could fold her hands in front of herself on the table.

“The term ‘baby’ is applied to infants from birth to the age of 1, and then sometimes to toddlers from ages 1 to 4. I am 6 now, daddy, so technically I have already let you get away with it for an extra year.”

Oh, my girl. What a little firecracker she was. No one in the entire world besides her could silence Dr. Spencer Reid with one sentence.

Spencer sat there at a loss for words, fork still in hand, clearly trying to formulate a coherent sentence.

“But…”

The school bus pulled up in front of our house with impeccable timing.

“Ava honey, the bus is here!” I gladly interrupted, shoving the lunchbox into her backpack and zipping it up.

Her poor father. I had never seen his jaw drop for so long before.

But, as always, there was no time to unpack in the current moment. That would have to be a later conversation.

Ava excitedly got down from the table, running to put her dishes in the sink before grabbing her backpack and putting it on with complete elation. I lifted Grayson from the highchair, quickly wiping off his applesauce-covered face with the ratty old t-shirt of Spencer’s I was wearing. By that time, Spencer had slightly snapped out of his trance in order to help Ava put on her sparkly converse shoes and matching coat.

The four of us were greeted by the autumn breeze as we stepped out onto the front porch. Spencer and I instinctively bent down to simultaneously kiss her cheeks, and she hugged our necks with the fervor of all the love in the world. She gave Grayson a small cheek kiss as well before turning away to start her new educational adventure.

“Have the best day, sweet girl!” I yelled after her as she sprinted down the driveway to the bus. She waved in reply. Though I couldn't have been prouder of her, I couldn’t help but notice the new missing piece of my heart that seemingly got on the school bus with her.

It was at that moment that I realized Spencer hadn’t said a single word since his baby proclaimed otherwise. He still looked like he had seen a ghost.

“You alright there, old man?” I playfully nudged him with my shoulder, bouncing Grayson on my hip.

“But she… she is my baby…”

I smiled, knowingly, trying to hide the small pain that struck my heart at the thought of Ava growing up. There were no words I could say that would calm his racing heart in the moment. So, I held our smallest baby a little bit tighter and leaned up to lightly brush my lips against Spencer’s.

“I know. Me too.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid request #spencer reid x y/n

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mugiwara-no-angel143 · 4 years

Text

Pairings: ProHero!Kirishima x F!Reader

Warnings: none; it’s fluffy

Tags: @aurorahoneybuns @mindninjax @enjifuckersupreme @catsonthebeachfics @lady-bakuhoe @lookslikeleese

Another huge thank you to @enjifuckersupreme for the banner!

A/N: I originally wanted this to be a multi chapter fic, and I had so many I guess you can say deleted scenes for it. (More ideas than anything else.) kinda want to do the daddy kiri thing. Maybe I'll put together more with this idea of him.

I hope this is good and that ya’ll like it!

Wrapped up in your blanket you begin to stir, the morning sun shining through your window waking you from your slumber. You sit up rubbing the sleep from your eyes, stretching your arms above your head while yawning. You hear noise coming from the kitchen, grabbing your robe and slipping on your slippers. You make your way to the beautiful sounds and delicious aroma, standing in the entrance way your heart melts. Your husband Kirishima and daughter in the middle of the kitchen are dancing, her tiny feet standing in his, scooping her up to twirl her close to him as he turns to flip a pancake. He sits her on the counter so she can help add butter and strawberries to the plates, she’s making more of a mess then anything else but he just smiles while cleaning up after her. In this moment every love song made sense, you never thought you could have this, that this man would open up his heart to the two of you, show you both that a man could be kind and a father could stay.

The day you met kirishima was through a mutual friend, she hinted that you both would get along great, but you couldn’t get the thought out of your head. You’d get along great with guys she set you up with but once they found out you had a daughter slowly they backed off, you understood, it’s a big step to take on early on a relationship and eventually you strayed away from dating,you would never introduce her to any of them, you wouldn’t put her through any heartache of becoming attached.

“Mina, I don’t know, he sounds amazing, but you know how this ends.”

“Y/n, he’s not like that, meet up with him, a coffee date. He knows about Emiko and he wants to get to know you.”

“He does?” You asked, worry still evident on your face.

“If this one doesn’t work out, I’ll stop setting you up ok?” She pulls up her pinky for you to take into yours.

“Ok.” You sighed. “ I know you’re scared, I know how things ended with her dad, just take a leap of faith ok?”

He came by to pick you up from your house, it was a Saturday, he had a rare day off and you couldn’t believe that he wanted to use it on you , especially once you found out he was a Pro Hero. Mina! No, are you sure he wants to meet me . Hush she’d say how could he not want to meet you. Once you heard the knock you opened it way too fast. Looking up at him and you smiled.

“Hi” it was all you mustered out when you saw him standing there, he was tall and handsome was an understatement and when he smiled, you swear it pierced your heart like a bow Cupid himself sent right to you.

“Hi there. I’m Kirishima, you must be y/n?” You nod, your smile never faltering. “Are you ready to head out?”

“Yea let me just grab my bag, Um, come in, it’ll be quick.”

He walks inside, looking around as you walk into the kitchen to get your bag. He smiled at the pictures you had on the walls and the toys that littered the floor.

Emiko was in the kitchen with Mina, she was going to stay with her while you walked to the coffee shop that wasn’t too far from your place. She peeked her head out as you said your goodbyes. Kirishima catches her , squatting as he waved her over.

“Hi there, princess.” She walks up to stand behind your leg, smiling at him. He looks up to you from his position. “I have an idea! How about I take you both to the ice cream shop that’s across from that coffee shop?”

The bewildered look you gave did not go unnoticed, “oh i don’t know, ummm, it’s ok really, you don’t have to …”

“I want to.” He gets up, looks you in the eye “It’ll be fun. Give me a chance to get to know you both.”

You smiled at him as your heart swelled, he really wanted to know you both, he wasn’t terrified about you having someone who needed you, someone who would always come first. You looked back at Mina and she let you know that if you needed her she was a phone call away.

“Thank you Mina.” You smiled.

“Yea, yea, treat her right Kiri, I’ll pop you one and you know I will.”

“Don’t worry, she’s in good hands.” He smiled when Emiko took her tiny hand and wrapped it around one of his fingers and you took her hand in yours as you headed out.

A few months had passed since your ice cream date, you had started dating him and it was the best decision you made, he was amazing with your daughter and you started to fall hard for him. You had finally broken down one day and told him about your past. That is so unmanly he would tell you and he’d reassure you whenever you needed him so that he wasn’t going to leave, that you both had him wrapped around your fingers. That night he told you he loved you and he showed you just how much over and over again.

One night after dinner, you put Emiko to bed coming out to spend some time with Kiri. He held out his hand inviting you to sit with him, he wrapped his arms around you sitting with his back on the arm of the couch and you shifted in between his legs, you sigh in contemptment, it was as if you both were puzzle pieces that belonged together, he kissed your shoulder.

“Babe?” You hummed in acknowledgement. “Did you know about the Father/Daughter dance that was coming up at Emiko’s school?” You turn to face him.

“I know of it but she didn’t mention it coming up.” You looked at him.

“Well, she asked me if I could go with her.”

“Oh, Kiri, it’s ok, if something like this is too soon for you …”

He grabbed your wrists looking into your eyes that were searching his “I know, but I want to. I won’t break her heart by saying I can’t. I already texted FatGum for the day off. It’s this Saturday.”

You couldn’t help the way you looked at him, he was serious about always being here for you. The thought was foreign to you. Her dad left you both alone, it was too much, he said, he couldn’t do it. How could he look into her face and not want to stay with her, for her. Kirishima’s voice brought you back from your thoughts.

“I’ll pick her up at 4pm. The dance starts at 5pm.” He kissed your forehead and you fell on to his chest.

The day came and you had her dressed in a beautiful coral dress, a matching ribbon tied up like a headband at the crown of her head, her curls flowing passed her shoulders. There was a knock at the door and her face lit up. She ran up to answer it and before her stood your boyfriend, he wore a coral button up to match her dress with a matching tie and black slacks. He kneeled down to present her with the small bouquet of daisy’s he picked up for her. Little by little this man made you believe in love and restored your faith that not all men were horrible.

You were brought back from your thoughts when you heard her yell “mama!!” Before she could jump off the counter Kirishima grabbed her and guided her down.

“Daddy and I made breakfast! Look!” And she held out her plate so you could see the arrangement of pancakes, bacon and strawberries.

“It looks so good, sweetie.” You kiss her forehead, walking with her to the table helping her from dropping the plate. Kirishima came up to you, bringing you into a chaste kiss. It had been two years since the day you met but it felt like you had known him for a lifetime.

“Hey! My daddy!, “ you both laugh at the pout she makes and he gives her a kiss on her nose. You put your hand on your belly and make a face. He kneels down placing a hand on your swollen belly feeling the kicks on his hands “not giving mama a hard time are you little man.” He kisses your belly, he looks up at you with so much love in his eyes.

“I can’t wait to meet him Kiri.”

“I hope he looks like you.” And you smile at the thought. Emiko coming up to touch your belly also smiling a big toothy grin.

“You got my smile you know.” Kiri mirrors her smile. “Daddy! You adopted me ‘member!!”

“Oh right, Are you sure? I always forget.”

You pull him again “And I hope that he has your heart.” This causes your big manly husband to blush. “You have the biggest heart and I hope he grows to the man you are.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, when he wraps his big arms around your waist you feel safe and protected.

Piece by piece, everytime you fell he picked you up, he was kind, gentle and never walked away.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima ejirou #kirishima imagine #kirishima fluff #I just absolutely love daddy kiri #the man would be amazing with kids #im so soft for him #a total simp if you will

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starbuckie · 4 years

Note

For your spooky requests, how about Bucky dating witch!reader, you could have them do whatever. Or Bucky and reader dressing their kids up for Halloween? I think that’d be adorable! Much love 😘🥰💕

ooh yes yes yes oh my goodness i love this! i decided to make the best of both worlds and have a (kind)witch!reader and bucky dressing their kids up for halloween. okay so for this she isn’t so much of a witch, but she has the same powers as wanda and a similar backstory. also after rereading this i realize that this could be a part two that takes place five years from “keeping me warm”, so if you want you can read it like that. i went a little itty bit far with this but i felt the mood for fluffiness so i hope you enjoy<3

“Mama, mama, can you help me zip up the back of my dress?” You turned, a three month-old baby on your hip, holding a pair of scissors between your teeth as you looked at your oldest daughter who was impatiently tapping her foot on the ground. The back of her space-princess dress was half-zipped up, both arms reaching behind her head though she couldn’t reach the zipper.

“Yeah, baby, let mama do it.” With one hand you expertly zipped up the back and smoothed down her hair which was in it’s usual Rebecca Barnes mess. Curly locks of chestnut hair fell short above the five year-old’s shoulders, topped with a headband with small planets decorating it. “You’ll be the prettiest space-princess all of New York has ever seen.”

“Not all of New York, mama, the whole wide galaxy!” Nico chimed in. He’d always admired his older sister, despite only being a year younger, and had decided to match with his sister and became one of Rebecca’s royal Martian subjects for the special night.

Halloween was never a stressful holiday before this one, with all of your kids being too young to go out trick-or-treating. You were scared of letting them go out, even if they were with their dad, and you wanted nothing more than to coddle them all in blankets know they were safely tucked in the house with you. However, it was Rebecca’s first year of school, and with relentless begging and pleading you had backed down and allowed them to go.

The school day seemed to have gone by so quickly, with two of your kids at their respective schools, and baby Emma staying home with you. You picked Nico up from preschool, Rebecca up from kindergarten, and by the time they had gotten home, eaten their dinner, played for a bit, and gotten into their costumes it was already six o’clock. Bucky had been at the compound all day; after you gave birth to Rebecca he decided to step down from missions and just trained the recruits, and you were on maternity leave for another good two months before you got back out in the field. Every inch of you was dying to go back on missions, no respect to stay-at-home moms, but you had too much energy and were tired of sitting on your ass all day.

“The great father of this household politely asks her Royal Highness and her subject to please help put the groceries away.” As soon as they heard their father’s voice the two older Barnes children sprinted as fast as they could to embrace him. Bucky stumbled backwards with their arms around his torso, but chuckled at his kid’s silliness and love. “Hey, guys, I missed you a ton.” He kneeled down to their height, cerulean eyes you loved so much filed with nothing but pure happiness. “Can you help me put away the groceries? I got you some broccoli because you need to eat more veggies, Nico, I know you haven’t been eating them.”

The young boy frowned, clearly upset that his dad caught him trying to sneakily avoid his greens, but nonetheless took the small bag of groceries to the kitchen counter. “Hey, baby, how was work?”

Bucky locked the door and sauntered over to you with a smile on his lips. “Boring, I miss having you there.” He pecked a quick kiss on your lips, moving on to the baby girl with the same eyes as him. “Hi, Em, did you miss your dada?” There was a hopeful tilt at the end of his question, waiting for the baby to say something in return

He got nothing but a wide-eyed stare.

With a huff he wrapped an arm around your waist and buried his head into your neck, sweet vanilla and cinnamon invading his senses. “Give it a while, Buck, she’s only three months old.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Nico and Rebecca’s chatter about candy faded in the background as soon as the lock on the knob of the door started rattling again. “Doll, I should probably tell you that I-”

“Guess who’s favorite uncle is here?” Sam yelled through the house, adorning a Mad Hatter costume and large bags that seemed like they were full of-

“Candy!” Both Rebecca and Nico swarmed their “cool” uncle and started to peek in the bags.

“Wilson! I told you you could come over, not feed my kids junk.” Bucky grumbled. He walked to his friend, snatching the bags of candy out of his hands and putting them away, effectively ignoring the cries of his children. “You munchkins are about to go out trick-or-treating, you don’t need any more sugar.”

Sam walked over to you with a kiss on the cheek for cooing at the baby in your arms. “Aw, come on, Barnes, I’m just trying to have some fun. A man’s gotta do something to ensure their place as the favorite.”

An eye roll from Bucky and a wink from Sam, the two men slumped onto the couch where you sat. “Mama, are you gonna come with us? Can you do the magic for us, please?”

The kids were never supposed to know about your past, a past full of darkness and pain until Bucky walked in. It was only a year ago when they had seen footage of you with their Aunt Wanda controlling objects with wisps of glowing red energy. You had cried into Bucky’s arms the whole night after that as he comforted you, knowing how terrifying it was to have your kids know that other side of you. Your kids, the innocent ones they were, thought you were still the most amazing and badass mom who could bake the best cookies and was like a witch. Yeah, they had lots of bragging rights at school.

Bucky pulled Nico into his arms and nuzzled the boys face, letting the little boy squeal at the feeling of stubble on his soft skin. “Not tonight, Nico, your mama needs her rest. I’m gonna take you kiddos tonight.”

The soft “aww” of the kids was silenced by Sam’s proposition. “I can take the kids if you want, Bucky, that’s actually why I came over. You’ve had a long week and I’ve been on bed rest from the leg. You stay home with your wife and start working on my next nephew,” you punched him in the arm, eliciting a wince from the large man, “or niece.”

“I just gave birth three months ago, Sammy, I’m not doing that anytime soon.” A quick look at you husband for confirmation and you turned back to Sam. “Are you really okay with taking Nico and Rebecca?”

“Of course! We’re gonna go tear up the state.” A peck on the cheek from the Falcon, and he took your kids in his arms and slammed the door open. “We’ll be back in two hours! See you later!”

Another thud let you know that Sam had left, little Emma jerking in response to the loud sound. Bucky took this as an opportunity to sprawl out, head coming to rest in your lap as he took a deep sigh. “Just the three of us for Halloween this year, huh, doll?”

“Yeah, Buck, just the three of us.”

It wasn’t anything fun. It was you, Bucky, and Emma passed out on the couch at only six in the evening, exhausted from the days activities. But in the moment, you couldn’t find anything more special to than to share October 31st with two of your loves wrapped around you.

#bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #james barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x yn #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #malia's spooky celebration #tinymalscoffeedrabbles

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duncan-rawr-x3 · 3 years

Photo

Unfotunately, I couldn't find any bases or vectors of Pinkie and Cheese Sandwich riding on Gummy (unless I'm blind AF..) And due to me not having photoshop, I was force to put Luster dawn in ms paint to edit her headband to match my headcanon Luster Dawn- So yeah, sorry if it looks awful ;; Also btw TLP is short for The Last Problem :^ __________________________________ "And no matter how much time goes by, The party will still be here with some fun new games to try" So this is my remake of a scene from The Last Problem, I wanted to include the entire PinkiePartyCheeseDerpy kids but the scene was too small and I wasn't willing to draw ALL of them, like, did you see how many crotch golems I gave them? So I decided to choose two: Lil' Cheese Sambusak and Ubebe Cake (who is sitting on Gummy). Also, in the future, I decided to keep Gummy having 'gums' because I thought it would make sense and I'm not sure if the show gave him teeth in the future or not (if so, then in this AU he has no teeth at all). As mentioned in the HC for Pumpkin and Pound Cake, Pumpkin Cake works as a baker for Pinkie's bakery (Sugarcube corner) which use to be run by Mr and Mrs. Cake but unfortunately, Mr and Mrs. Cake is no longer with us.. I gonna get a lot of comments, I know that the writers had confirmed that the Cakes are alive but for the sake of my AU, they ain't, and the Pumpkin and Pound Cake were adopted by Lyra and Bonbon.. so, yea, the twins have lesbian mamas. Also, I was originally going to make Pinkie, Derpy, Cheesy and Party the proud guardians of Pump and Pound but, I forgotten to include them to the family tree and I had already finished Pinkie's kids, so therefor, I had another idea of making the cake kids' the adoptive children of Lyra and Bonbon ;w; Included Star in the mix, because Star is Luster Dawn's adoptive daughter and wonder assistant similar to Barbara (aka transgender! Spike who in my AU is Twilight and Potion Nova's adoptive daughter!).

#the last problem mlp #mainverse #pinkie pie #cheese sandwich #CheesePie #PinkieSandwich #Luster dawn #ponies #mlp #my little pony: friendship is magic #mylittlepony #my little pony #ursa minor #Party Favor #Derpy Hooves #Lil' cheese #Pound cake #Pumpkin cake #gummy

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nineteenninety-six · 5 years

Text

Disneyworld

Request: Can you do a Pedro Pascal imagine where him, his wife, and their child go out to like Disneyland and fans see them. Xx

A/N: I literally know nothing about Disneyworld so everything in here is from research so I’m sorry if it’s wrong. I’m English and I think the only time I’ve been to Disneyworld in Florida was for my 5th birthday and I’m turning 21 this year so lol but I still have the Minnie Mouse plushie that I got from there which is pretty cool. I went to the Disney California Adventure Park place back in 2017 and I just remember it being boring so I’m sorry again.

This is the longest fic I’ve posted on here and it’s 3k of just domestic Pedro fluff, not that I’m complaining. It’s also half two in the morning so excuse the mistakes pls

WORD COUNT: 3219

“Woah…”

Ximena was slack-jawed with amazement as she walked through main street in the Magical Kingdom park. Tightly gripping the hand of her papá like she had been instructed to, Ximena was in a state of wonder, constantly turning her head from side to side trying to take in as much as she could.

Pedro had decided a small holiday was in order for the family and planned a week away down at Florida, along with a weekend trip to Disneyworld. Him and (Y/N) had decided to keep the trip to Disneyworld a secret from their daughter, wanting to surprise her, they had even booked a room in one of the resort hotels for the weekend and the excited squeals and gasps that escaped her when she saw the Walt Disney sign as they drove in, made it worth it. After dumping their bags and slipping Ximena in a Princess Tiana dress, her favourite princess, the family left their resort room and made their way into the theme park.

As they approached Cinderella’s Castle Ximena gasped at the sight of it, looking up excitedly at her father, “Papá look!”

Pedro himself was quite amazed at the famous castle, “Wanna take a picture in front of it with mamá?”

Ximena enthusiastically nodded and turned towards her mother with her arms stretched out, asking to be carried. (Y/N) picked her up and placed her on her hip before moving to stand in front of the castle and each of them put on their biggest smiles for the camera. Pedro couldn’t help but admire his family as he took the photo, remembering how lucky he was to have them.

“Papá, you now!” Ximena chimed as she and (Y/N) returned to Pedro’s side and checked out the photo he had taken.

“Of course, mi princesa.” Pedro swung his daughter up and pressed a kiss to her cheek before moving to where his wife stood not so long ago and smiling wildly at the camera.

Before he could walk back to (Y/N) he saw someone approach her and make vague gestures with their hands making (Y/N) nod and smile enthusiastically before she passed them her phone and skipped over to her husband and daughter.

“They offered to take a photo of all three of us!” (Y/N) told Pedro, causing him to nod in understanding.

The three of them with Ximena in the middle smiled as the kind stranger took their photo, Pedro grateful that they had managed to get a photo of all three of them.

After thanking the stranger, they moved on from the castle and made their way to the Princess Fairytale Hall. Luckily for them, the line was short and in no time they were in the hall and making their way over to a certain princess. Ximena let out a quiet shriek once she spotted Princess Tiana, looking up at her parents to confirm what she was seeing was real and when they nodded the little girl wiggled in her spot excitedly, making her parents laugh.

Ximena was star-struck when Princess Tiana waved her forward, the little girl suddenly becoming shy but the princess quickly made her comfortable and soon enough she was smiling and giggling. Pedro took about a hundred photos of the interaction, absolutely loving to see his daughter so happy. Ximena was sad when their moment was up and they had to leave but the promise of going on rides and meeting the other princesses over the weekend the little girl became chipper again.

The family walked through the park, stopping and taking photos at random intervals, enjoying the warm Floridian weather.

“Wait here for just a moment.” Pedro told his family before he dipped into one of the many stores that were around them.

The mother and daughter looked at each other in confusion before bursting in giggles,

“Your daddy’s a bit silly isn’t he?” (Y/N) asked as she bent down in front of her daughter and brushed her hair back.

Ximena giggled again, “He’s really really silly.”

“Hey, I heard that!” (Y/N) looked up and saw Pedro with a faux frown on his face.

Pedro had returned without his family noticing and caught the end of their conversation. Ximena opened her mouth to apologize but her eyes caught on the bag that Pedro was holding,

“Whaddya get?”

“Nothing because you and mamá were so mean to me.” Pedro pouted.

Ximena pouted at his words, an exact replica of her father’s pout, “Lo siento papá!”

Pedro bent down in front of his daughter, “I suppose if I get a kiss and hug, I can forgive you…”

Ximena jumped into her father’s arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek before tightly wrapping her arms around his neck, “Lo siento papá.”

“Te quiero, princesa” Pedro murmured as Ximena pulled away from the hug.

“I love you too, papa.” She beamed, “And mamá too.”

(Y/N) smiled down at her daughter, “I love you too hunnybun.”

Pedro dug into the bag he was carry and pulled out a Minnie Mouse ear headband and held it out for his daughter who looked at it with wide eyes,

“For me?”

“Of course princesa” Pedro gently placed the headband on his daughter’s head and adjusted so it sat comfortably before taking a photo and showing it to his daughter. “Do you like it?”

“Uh-huh! It’s so pretty.”

“I got one for me and mamá too.” Pedro pulled out another Minnie Mouse headband and placed it one his wife’s head before pulling out a Mickey Mouse and putting it on his own head, “Now we match!”

(Y/N) could tell there were still some things left in the bag and swiped it before Pedro could stop her. She laughed when she peered into the bag and saw several other headbands and hats in there, “Did you buy out the whole shop or something?”

“It was hard to choose just one so I got several.” Pedro looked slightly embarrassed before he started to pull out the different hat’s he had bought.

“See, this one is just so cute, I couldn’t not buy it” Pedro had pulled out a pink sparkling headband that had a pink, teal and purple veil along with a fairy in the middle of the headband.

“It’s so pretty.” Ximena gasped, reaching out to touch the veil.

“You can wear it tomorrow if you want?” Pedro offered, immediately getting a nod from his daughter.

Pedro then pulled out a ‘UP’ themed headband, “This one is for you mi amor, I know it’s your favourite Disney film.”

(Y/N) blushed at the gesture, “Thank you, Pedro.”

“I also got this!” Pedro then pulled out a BB-8 ear hat. “You know I had to.”

He had bought a couple more sequined headbands along with a doughnut themed Minnie Mouse one and a Chewbacca ear hat. (Y/N) chided him for buying so much but he made an excuse that they’ll give them to friends and family but (Y/N) didn’t believe him knowing that he had bought them for Ximena but she didn’t speak on it, secretly finding it very cute.

With their headbands secured on their heads and the extras Pedro’s bought tucked safely in his bag, the family made their way towards the Dumbo Flying Elephant ride. (Y/N) decided to stand with their belongings and record them, while Pedro rode the ride with Ximena, she could hear the laughter from both Ximena and Pedro as they went round and round, causing her to smile too. Ximena ran straight into her arms as they exited the ride,

“Did you have fun?” (Y/N) asked, fixing her daughters headband.

Ximena nodded, “We went reallyyy high”

(Y/N) gasped, “Was it scary?” “Papá was there so it wasn’t scary at all!” Pedro beamed at the praise.

They had gone on ‘it’s a small ride’, ‘Mad Tea Party’ and the Prince Charming Carrousel before Ximena had passed out in her father’s arms, exhausted from her day so far.

“It’s still early.” (Y/N) said after she checked her phone, it was half-past one in the afternoon, they had been there since opening, “We can go back to the villa, let her nap and have some lunch before we go to Hollywood Studios?”

Pedro agreed and they took the bus back to their resort, both of them glad for the chance to rest their feet. When they got into their villa, they placed Ximena in the bed after taking off her shoes and Princess Tiana dress and started to make lunch, just some simple sandwiches and even though their plan was to stay awake until Ximena woke up and then go to Hollywood Studios they both ended up falling asleep on the sofa after they ate.

They both woke up with a gasp when Ximena cried out for them, scared after she had woken up in an unfamiliar place without her parents around,

“Papá! Mamá!” Ximena cried out.

(Y/N) shot up from the couch and headed towards the bedroom, Pedro right behind her. She climbed onto the bed and pulled her daughter into arms, pressing kisses over her head to comfort her, “I’m sorry sugar, papá and mamá are here.”

Ximena sniffled and snuggled closer to her mother, Pedro had sat next to her on the bed and ran a comforting hand against his daughters back.

“You’re okay, princesa.” Pedro comforted.

Ximena calmed down and pulled away, wiping her tears away before she shifted over to her father, wanting to be picked up,

“You hungry?”

Ximena nodded and the family of three left the bedroom and headed towards the kitchen. Whilst Pedro got Ximena sorted, (Y/N) made her and Pedro some coffee knowing that they both needed it.

“Nice?” (Y/N) asked as she sat the coffee mugs down on the table. Ximena nodded and swallowed her mouthful before she spoke, “Juice?”

“Ah, of course, silly mama forgot.” (Y/N) picked up a carton of apple juice and gave it to her daughter.

She moved to go sit in the chair next to Pedro but the man grabbed her waist and pulled her onto his lap instead making her let out a surprised oof. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and saw Pedro giving her a cheeky smile causing her to turn on his lap to face him,

“You got something to say?” (Y/N) grinned

“Just that I love you” Pedro wiggled his eyebrows and tightened his grip on (Y/N)’s waist.

“You love me? I must be lucky.” (Y/N) quipped

“So lucky.” Pedro removed his hands from her waist and placed them on her face, pulling her down for a kiss.

“Ew!” Ximena exclaimed, causing the couple to pull away from each other and laugh.

“Finish your lunch and then we can go see the new Star Wars exhibit yea?”

Nodding, Ximena got to finishing her sandwich along with the slices of apple Pedro had placed on a plate.

(Y/N) and Pedro drank their coffee and discussed their plans for the next day while Ximena finished eating.

“Done!” Ximena pushed her plate away and took a gulp of her apple juice.

“Toilet and then we can go, okay?”

Ximena nodded and skipped to the bathroom. (Y/N) downed her coffee before tidying up Ximena’s plate and making sure they got everything. Ximena came back and wandered over to her father with her shoes in her hand,

“Help me papá?”

“Of course, ‘mena.” The use of her nickname made Ximena smile as she hopped onto her father’s lap and held her foot out so he could put her shoes on for her.

“Okay, we ready to go?” (Y/N) asked as she left the bathroom. Her husband and daughter nodded and soon they were on their way to Hollywood Studios.

They went on a few Toy Story rides before they headed towards Galaxy’s Edge. As they got closer the more looks they got, people double-taking as they recognized Pedro causing him to get a bit shifty,

“Are you sure you want to go? We might get overwhelmed.” He asked, suddenly nervous.

“It’s fine.” (Y/N) reassured him, “I’m sure most won’t even approach you when they see us with you.”

Pedro nodded but he still looked uncertain. As they walked further into Galaxy’s edge they got more looks and points but just like (Y/N) said, no one had approached him as they saw he was with his family.

They stopped in front of the Millennium Falcon and admired how massive it was before (Y/N) was motioning Pedro and Ximena to stand in front of it so that she could take a picture.

“You should post this one, it’s really cute.” (Y/N) told Pedro as they made their way inside to line up for ‘Millennium Falcon: Smugglers Run’. They were bent of Pedro’s phone looking at the map of Galaxy’s Edge when they heard a strangled, “Oh my god it’s Pedro Pascal!”,

When they turned around they saw it was the person who was stood behind them that spoke and they turned bright red when they had turned around.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. Ignore me!” The person spluttered.

“Nah, it’s okay.” Pedro laughed, “You wanna picture?”

The person gaped in surprise for a moment before they shook their head, “I couldn’t, you’re with your family.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” (Y/N) chimed in with a kind smile, “Let me take the picture.”

The fan hesitated but handed their phone to (Y/N) in the end. Pedro stood next to the person and they posed for the camera, (Y/N) handed the person’s phone back to them and smiled as they let out a thank you.

Ximena had climbed into Pedro’s arms after her legs began to ache so Pedro carried her and they quietly spoke Spanish to each other as they waited in line. (Y/N) understood more Spanish than she spoke it but she loved seeing them speak to each other knowing it was a bonding moment for them. Once it was their turn, Ximena’s energy came back in full force and she was once again bouncing and wiggling.

Ximena was beaming and excitedly chattering after they had left the Millennium Falcon and was in her father’s arms once again, asking if they could watch Clone Wars when they got back to the villa. After Pedro had gotten the role of The Mandalorian he had wanted to get Ximena into the Star Wars universe and love it like he did when he was her age but she was too young to understand the films so he decided to start her off with the cartoons, something she loved.

“Wanna go to the shop and look around?” (Y/N) asked, interrupting their conversation.

They nodded and the three of them headed into the store, Ximena pouting when she didn’t see any The Mandalorian things. They hadn’t let her watch the show but she had seen plenty of photos and just like the rest of the world, she had fallen in love with Baby Yoda,

“They don’t have you papá.”

“I know princesa but look they have BB-8!” Pedro directed her attention to the droid.

They had gotten the BB-8 toy, the sales advisor showing them what the toy could do with a floor example. Ximena had the box wrapped in her arms as they left the store when Pedro had an idea.

“Hey ‘mena, how about we take BB-8 out of the box and we take a photo of you and him in front of the Millennium Falcon and send it to tío Oscar?”

Oscar had been the one to get their little girl obsessed with the little droid in the first place, the girl found it absolutely adorable.

“Okay papá!” Ximena skipped to the ship and posed in front of it with a wild smile and BB-8 in her arms. Pedro took the photo and sent it off to Oscar with the caption, ‘This doesn’t mean anything, she still thinks Baby Yoda is cuter.’

“Mamá, I’m hungry.” Ximena whined as they packed the toy away.

“Okay, we’ll get food soon hunnybun, we’ll go to a place close to the villa alright?” (Y/N) ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair before she pressed a kiss to her head.

Ximena nodded, “Have you got any snacks?”

(Y/N) pulled out a granola bar out of her bag and offered it to her daughter, “How about this?”

Ximena nodded and took the snack off her mum and dug in.

“Let’s head back and get some proper food before we go to sleep yeah?” Pedro said.

Ximena took another bite of her granola bar and nodded.

“Do you want papá to carry you?” Pedro asked, the little girl thought about it before she shook her head and took his hand instead.

The family made their way back to the Magical Kingdom, which was the closest theme park to their villa and made their way into a restaurant to finally have dinner. Dinner was like any normal dinner at the Pascal household, filled with high spirits, giggles and happy and full stomachs.

“Papá, what princess can I see tomorrow?” Ximena asked on the way back to the villa.

“What princesses do you want to see?”

“Hmm...Belle!”

“Then we’ll see Belle tomorrow then.”

Ximena grinned up at her father, ecstatic.

As soon as they opened the door to their villa, Ximena had run in and jumped to sit on the couch, her hand reaching for the tv remote.

“Ah! Bath then bed young lady!” (Y/N) told her before she could reach the remote. “Get undressed and take out your pyjamas and I’ll meet you in the bedroom in a bit.”

Ximena whined but listened to her mother and headed towards the bedroom after toeing her shoes off.

(Y/N) kicked off her own shoes and sighed in relief as her feet were finally free, “I can’t wait to take this damn bra off either.”

Pedro laughed and walked over to his wife, “Go deal with our daughter and I’ll make us some tea.”

“Okay.” (Y/N) gave her husband a kiss before making her way to the bedroom.

Twenty minutes later, (Y/N) crept out of the room and slumped onto the couch next to Pedro who was watching a random show on low volume.

“She down?” He asked, turning to face her.

“She started to fall asleep in the tub” (Y/N) laughed.

(Y/N) grunted as she sat up suddenly and after some fiddling with something behind her back, she sighed with relief as she pulled her bra off and chucked it somewhere.

“Feel better?”

“Way better. Bras are hell.”

“You should go without, I wouldn’t mind.” Pedro leant forward and poked one of her boobs causing her to quietly squeal and lean back.

“Of course you wouldn’t you perv” (Y/N) laughed as she knocked his hand away and leant forward to pick up the mug of tea he had made for her.

“Thank you.” She said as she snuggled into his side.

“Don’t worry about it.” Pedro looked down at her, “I love you.”

(Y/N) smiled up at him and kissed him, “I love you too.”

#pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #imagines #fluff #celebrity imagines #Pedro Pascal #the mandalorian

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crazyunsexycool · 2 months

Note

Lottie and Gracie are such cuties!

I want to see what Gracie's reaction is meeting Steebie because he's her favourite!

Maybe Bruce also helps her with her treatment to get well sooner??

Sweet baby Gracie 🥺🥺🥺!!! she shares Lottie’s love for Steve.

I’m going to also include the second part if your ask to this

Meet your Hero

Warning: sick child, hair loss, probably some references to inaccurate medical treatments, mentions of blood, fluff

Gracie was sitting at Lottie’s play table. She sat patiently while Lottie rummaged through her rather large headband collection looking for something special. She gave a little ‘a-ha’ when she found it.

“Is perfect, Gracie.” She held up a braided headband with red and blue fabric and white star beads woven in. “It matches.”

Lottie was referring to the Captain America shirt Gracie was wearing. It belonged to her older brother Derek but he let her have it since Captain America was Gracie’s favorite Avenger.

“But I don’t have hair.” Gracie runs her small hand over her head, pouting at the feeling of skin on skin instead of hair.

“So what?”

“I look ugly. I can’t meet Captain Merica like that.”

Lottie gasps. She’s truly horrified at what her friend is saying. She’s quick to argue that point though. “You not ugly Gracie. You so cute. An Steebie don’t care if you habe hair.” She says very matter of fact. “I no habe hair and Steebie still lobes me.”

“You were sick too?”

“Mhm.” Lottie moves toward her night stand where she has a picture of her and baby goats from when Tony brought a petting zoo to the compound. “See.” She holds it up to show her dearest friend.

“Oh. But you’re not sick anymore.”

“No. But mama and Buce make me bettuh. They make you bettuh too, I see it.” Lottie nods.

****

The girls walked the rather large hallways of the compound. Lottie held Gracie’s hand as she walked the same familiar path to Steve’s office. By now the agents and staff of the compound knew of Lottie’s wandering tendencies so they just went about their business. Some said their hellos or waved as the girls walked by.

“You weady?” Lottie looks at Gracie, her big brown eyes now more noticeable since she’s wearing her face mask again. She blinks a few times and nods, with that Lottie knocks on Steve’s office door.

“Come in.”

Lottie opens the door and walks right in like she has countless times before.

“Hey sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Steve says as he pushes his chair back and accepts her hug.

“Steebie this is Gracie, she’s my best friend.”

“Well hello Gracie, I’ve heard many wonderful things about you.” Steve takes a knee and extends his hand to shake Gracie’s. “I like your shirt and it matches your headband, that’s so cool.”

“I told you he’d like it.” Lottie cheered.

Meanwhile Gracie just stared up at Steve with wide, wonder-filled eyes. Steve keeps his easy smile as he listens to Lottie tell him about Gracie some more since she’s kind of starstruck.

“How about we sit you girls down and get you something to drink?”

Steve picks Lottie up and sets her on his desk and then he does the same with Gracie. He loves to the mini fridge he keeps stocked up with a little bit of everything and gets two juice boxes.

“So are you having fun with Lottie?”

“Yeah.” She says quietly.

“Gracie is gonna see Buce. He makes her all bettuh.”

“Well Bruce is good at his job. But it’s ok to be scared sometimes.”

“Do you get scared?” Gracie looks up at Steve.

“All the time.”

“But you’re Captain Merica.”

“That’s true but sometimes there are things that are really scary. The important thing is that you have to face those really scary things and most of the time it turns out it wasn’t that bad at all.” Steve says. “It also help if you have friends and family to help you be brave.”

“Like Lottie?”

“Yup. Just like Lottie. Now I’m going to give you something only the bravest people get because you’re a fighter.” Steve says as he rummages through one of his drawers.

“What is it?” Gracie asks curiously.

Steve holds up a small badge that had the Howling Commandos’ insignia on it. “This was only worn by the Howlies. Do you know who they are?”

Gracie and Lottie nod.

“They were the bravest people I knew and now you’re a Howlie too. And it even goes with your shirt.”

“This is my be brave shirt. My brother gave it to me.”

Steve smiles and blinks back a few tears. “Well now you know I’ll always be with you.” He taps the pin.

Even though she put her mask back on after finishing her juice, Steve can tell she’s smiling with the way her eyes light up.

“Now how about I take you down to Bruce’s lab?”

****

You, Bruce, Duckie and Mr. and Mrs. Moore are sitting around a table going over what the first few steps are going to be. The double doors slide open and in walks in Steve with two giggling girls on his shoulders.

“I believe these two lovely ladies belong here.” Steve says as Lottie practically jumps off his shoulder. He however is much more gentle with Gracie.

“Look mommy I’m a Howlie now.” She proudly displays her pin. “Steve says only the bravest people ever get this.”

Her parents smile at him and accept his offer to take a picture with her. Gracie subconsciously puts her hand on her head again, obviously self conscious about her lack of hair.

“Hey, how about this, we take a picture now and when you get better we’ll take another one and you can see how much your hair has grown? Although I think you look very pretty either way.”

Gracie blushes at Steve’s words but nods anyway before posing for a few pictures. Steve takes his leave with one last hug to Lottie’s closest friend.

The girls sit patiently, quietly talking about Steve. Gracie absentmindedly running a finger over her new pin.

“Like we were saying before, we have better equipment to see more details. When we complete the scan we’ll be able to determine more.” Duckie says.

“The best course of action would be to let us run a few tests. That way we can come up with the best treatment.”

Mrs. Moore looks at you. You can see how she’s fighting against the hope blooming in her chest at the thought that maybe her baby can receive the best care possible. With a small nod you give her the push she needs and Gracie’s parents agree to run some tests.

****

You’ve been home for about an hour. The girls still wanted to play after the appointment. Gracie didn’t cry once while getting blood taken or through any other exam. She was a Howling Commando now, she was brave. While you and Bucky sit and talk to your newest friends your phone rings and you step into the kitchen when you see it’s Bruce.

A few minutes later you walk back into the living room. Mr and Mrs Moore’s attention goes to you the minute you step back into the room.

“That was Bruce.” You say calmly. The couple before you grab each other’s hands. “He said that he can have the medication ready by tomorrow. Gracie’s chances are high. Your girl’s going to be just fine.”

Gracie’s parents begin to cry as relief and joy and hope wash over them. They wouldn’t have to see their daughter go through so such a difficult illness for much longer.

And every year Steve keeps his promise and takes a picture with Gracie. Her hair is always different but her smile is always bright and her pin is always with her.

#you’ve got mail 💌#val answers #my little love ask

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headoverheelss · 3 years

Text

Song Lyrics From Slipping Through My Fingers By ABBA

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness And I have to sit down for a while The feeling that I'm losing her forever And without really entering her world I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter That funny little girl

The first time Natsu saw Hana in her headband and jacket was when her daughter was 6 years old. Natsu didn’t know what to think. Did it scare her that maybe she made the wrong decision about Hana’s future? Yes, it did, but after seeing her daughter grow, Natsu realized she made the right decision. Hana was a mix of Kai’s resilience and Natsu’s abundance energy. She would have become a ninja even if Natsu decided against it but the pain was still there. The pain of knowing how the life of a shinobi ends. Hana’s life was also entwined with a prophecy. A prophecy that Natsu’s mother use to tell Natsu under a guise of a bedtime story. Natsu wanted to get Hana prepared for that future.

“How do I look Mama?”

“You look great darling.”

The moment was closing in on them. Natsu knew it and Hana tried to ignore it. Getting sick wasn’t in Natsu’s plan, but once she realized what was happening she tried to teach her daughter everything she knew and left the rest to Baki. After a couple years, Natsu’s body started to get weaker and soon the former ninja found herself hospitalized. Now after months of fighting, Natsu’s body couldn’t take the medication anymore so she decided that this was the end. Now Natsu spent her last hours with Hana by her side, wishing that she could just stay a little longer.

“Darling..I’m sorry.” It was getting harder to talk.

Natsu saw Hana’s body start to crumble. Tears were streaming down her face but still Hana tried to stay strong.

“It’s alright Mom. I’ll be okay.”

Natsu took her daughter’s hand.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The heart monitor started to slow down. Her eyes kept fluttering, fighting to stay open but to no avail they closed. Natsu felt herself wake up a second later. Her body felt light. She didn’t know where she was but she knew she wasn’t alone.

Her eyes searched until finally they landed on him. Natsu got up and ran into Kai’s arms.

“I tried my hardest.”

“I know, my love, I know.”

Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table Barely awake I let precious time go by Then when she's gone, there's that odd melancholy feeling And a sense of guilt I can't deny What happened to the wonderful adventures The places I had planned for us to go Well, some of that we did, but most we didn't And why, I just don't know

“I’m home.”

Kakashi put down his mission bag. He had been on a two week long mission so it was nice to finally be back in the Leaf.

“I’m in here.” Gai called from the kitchen.

Kakashi walked towards the kitchen. He could hear Gai humming to himself.

Kakashi walked towards Gai and wrapped his arms around the ninja.

Kakashi laid his head on Gai’s back and took a deep breath. It was always nice to be home.

“Welcome back Rival. How was the mission?”

“Took longer than expected but we accomplished what we needed to do.”

Gai turned the stove off but still stood with Kakashi wrapped around his back. He knew Kakashi just needed some time to calm down.

“Where is Hana?” Kakashi didn’t see his daughter when he entered the house.

“She went out with her friends. She has been working her butt off for the dance recital.”

“You know I’ve been thinking about doing something for her.”

“What do you have in mind, Rival?”

“Maybe we take her on a vacation or something. She’s been great ever since we adopted her and I feel like we don’t spend enough time with her as it is.”

Gai smiled to himself. Hana has been the best daughter since they adopted her. It did take her awhile to open up to them. Gai and Kakashi learned that’s she’s been through a lot so the two have shown her at every interaction that’s she is loved and protected.

“We will talk later but for now let’s eat”

Slipping through my fingers all the time I try to capture every minute The feeling in it Slipping through my fingers all the time Do I really see what's in her mind Each time I think I'm close to knowing She keeps on growing Slipping through my fingers all the time Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture And save it from the funny tricks of time Slipping through my fingers... Slipping through my fingers all the time

The horror of watching Hana approach Akito almost made Gai throw up. He wanted to put himself in front her. He wanted to protect her from everything but this was the one time he couldn’t do what he wanted.

Hana looked different. Her hair was pulled pack into a ponytail and on her forehead was the Regulation Leaf Village headband. On her back was a sword and on her arm was the regulation sand village headband, but the big difference was the chakra she was emitting. It was loud and strong.

It was intimidating.

“Kushina! What is the meaning of this? Why can’t we get to Hana?” Kakashi was frantic.

Kushina made a face. She was debating whether this was the right time to tell them but they already look like they’ve been through hell from the war.

So she told them the whole thing starting with the prophecy, just like how Kushina was born to hold Kurama, Natsu was born to give birth to the Sun. A protector of Earth who was destined to kill their best friend. That is why Hana trained so hard for years. This was her moment.

“We can’t do anything. This is their battle.”

Kakashi and Gai looked on as they watched Hana prepare to fight. Akito and Hana matched each other in strength and skill.

Kakashi flinched every time Hana got cut by Akito’s sword. Akito was slowly overpowering Hana and it scared everybody.

Baki moved over to Kakashi and Gai, putting a hand on their shoulders.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys but it wasn’t my secret to tell. There is one more thing under her sleeve.”

“What is it?”

“We started noticing that if Hana takes time to build her chakra then her eyes and hair turns red. The more chakra she builds, the more powerful she becomes.”

“What are the drawbacks of letting all of it out at once?” Kakashi knew something like that had to have a give and take.

Baki looked hesitant to tell them but relented after looking at both of their faces.

“We talked about it before she had to leave the sand... and.. well..

She dies.”

Kakashi was the first one to run to the barrier of chakra. His hands balled into fists, pounding the barrier as hard as he can.

Gai followed after getting over the initial shock.

“Hana! stop please!”

Gai’s yells were loud and overwhelming.

Kushina felt tears come to her eyes. She knew they cared deeply for Hana. That was their daughter out there, risking her life.

Kushina cleared her eyes and looked towards the battle. She gasped.

Two faint outlines could be seen. Kai and Natsu stood right by Hana.

All of Hana’s parents were here. Here to watch her die.

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile

Bonus:

Hana took a deep breathe. Her body was cut with blood soaking through her clothes.

“And this is your best? I’m disappointed Hana.”

Akito taunted her.

Well, he was always good at trash talking.

There was one thing she could do but Hana knew what the end result of that was.

Hana looked around at her friends and family. She was born to protect them. She can’t let Akito get the better of her.

Finally, Hana looked at Kakashi and Gai.

She heard their screaming. They wanted her to stop but she has to end this. If she doesn’t, the cycle will just continue.

She looked at her dads and gave the best smile she could give.

Thank you for the happy moments and the fun memories. You guys were the best parents. I love you. Take care of each other.

With those last words, she felt the tell tale signs of her chakra building. Her hair and eyes stained red.

#kakagai #naruto #fanfictiion #fanfiction

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twrites1 · 4 years

Text

“Wait”

Time Frame: Sunday Afternoon, May 10, 2020

Location: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma // Tulsa, Oklahoma

Summary: Based on Maroon 5’s Wait, sequel to Love In The Dark.

Sam squinted as he rubbed his eyes slightly, trying to see if what he was seeing was correct. This couldn’t be the way they were teaching these kids in second grade now. Equations? She was only in the second grade. What in the hell?

“It’s fine if you don’t know, I’ll ask my Daddy when he calls on FaceTime.”

“Just..wait a minute.” He hushed the girl as he use the palm of his hand to gently push her away, her giggles running out loudly just as her mother entered the room.

“What’s with all the laughing?”

“I’m helping little squirt with her homework.” He cut his eyes when he heard her scoff, watching as she gave him a knowing look before getting off the couch.

“Yeah right, Uncle Sam.” Virginia giggled as she grabbed her book and headed upstairs to her room.

Sam rolled his eyes at her before he grabbed the mail that he sat down earlier and scanned it, mumbling incoherently as he tossed out all of the junk mail for his cousin before he abruptly stopped, everything falling to the floor except the one thing he was holding.

Quinn turned around when he fell silent, eyebrow raising as she watched as he stared at something, “Why are you going through my mail anyways?” She walked over to the side of him when he didn’t answer, eyes going to the invitation. She sighed before grabbing ahold of it.

“She’s getting married tomorrow?” Even though he knew the answer because it was obvious, just hoping this was some kind of joke. He turned to look at the woman, watching as she sat down on the couch.

“Yes.” She raised her eyes to look at him just in time to see the hurt, incredulous look on his face, “She broke things off with you, not me.”

“But you’re my blood. You’re suppose to be on my side.”

“It’s your fault.” Quinn quipped back as she stared at him, pointing out his misplaced anger, “If you would’ve stood up for yourself and told her the truth, you would be the one at the alter. You’re also so damn stupid sometimes. The help? Really?”

“Don’t keep reminding me and I didn’t call her that, my mother phrase it that way, I just said that she helped around the house.”

“That’s even worse. Again, stand up to them pieces of shit of parents you got. I’m not sorry but I have never, ever had love for them from how they treat my parents.” She started as she shook her head. Quinn’s mother was Sam’s mother sister and they were nothing alike and she was criticized for it. It still amazed her sometimes how they were kin.

Sam stayed quiet for a moment before tossing the invite back on the table, emotions and feelings that he thought he had buried down were bubbling back up to the surface. Sighing a bit, he turned his eyes back over to his cousin, “Were you going to tell me?”

“No.” Quinn said honestly as she looked at him and shrugged, “You didn’t even fight for her.”

Sam nodded solemnly as he stood up from the couch, moving past her and going upstairs to say goodbye to his little cousin. Once he came back down, he put shoes on.

“Where are you going, Sam?”

“Home.” He replied shortly as he stood back to his full height, going over to grab his keys from the kitchen counter. Once he made sure he had all his things, he headed for the door but not without the last words, still not facing his cousin as he opened the door, “And I did fight...more than you would ever know.”

The chatter around the room flowed freely as the bride was helped getting prepared to walk down the aisle. Her mother placing the floral headband on her head that pushed the flowing, curly hair back. This was it, she was finally getting married and she couldn’t for one believe it. She was introduce to her fiancé, Carter, by her mother at the end of 2017 at a Christmas party. She had no plans of getting back into the dating for awhile but her mother insisted. One date, led to ten before the two started dating in August of 2018 and he proposed a year later, leaving Mercedes pressured to say yes because both of their families were there. Carter wasn’t a bad catch either. He was a lawyer, had his own house, no criminal record, handsome, and to Mercedes’ mother...he was just perfect with no flaws.

They haven’t been intimate yet, Mercedes wanting save herself until marriage....which was a lie because her and Sam had sex all the time and they were just boyfriend and girlfriend. Sam. She shrugged off the thought of him, what she had been unsuccessfully doing since that faithful night. No matter how she tried to forget it, she couldn’t but she pushed it down enough to get to the point where she was right now. She came out of her thoughts when she heard someone say it was time. She looked at herself in the mirror and took a deep breath. She could stop this if she wanted to but what was the point? Carter was a good enough man, conceded sometimes, but he’s what her mother wanted. It should be what she wanted....right? After coming from the back, she saw her father and gave him a small smile as she looped her arm with his.

Quinn crossed her legs as she wrapped her arm around her daughter, watching as Mercedes walked down the aisle. She had to admit, after the conversation with her cousin yesterday, she was feeling extremely guilty for even showing up. She knew how much he loved this woman yet he made some stupid decisions. She wished they could’ve worked it out, but Mercedes didn’t deserve the situation that she was in. She was happy for her, even if the man she was marrying wasn’t her cousin but as the vows were being read, she couldn’t help but feel like Mercedes was mechanically going through the motions.

Dirty looks from your mother

Never seen you in a dress that color, no

It's a special occasion

Not invited, but I'm glad I made it, oh

“If there’s anyone who doesn’t wish to see this couple together, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Mercedes smiled a smile as she looked up at the man in front of her, one that didn’t reach her father nor Quinn’s eyes but apparently everyone’s else. It slowly begin to falter when she felt a tug at her heartstrings, all of sudden becoming hot and weak in the knees when she heard clear as day that one voice that she hasn’t heard from in years.

“I object.”

Quinn eyes went wide as her mouth dropped, turning her head around at the entrance door, “No, no, no.” She stood up from where she was sitting, making her way to him. There stood her idiot cousin at the entrance of the church, “Sam, I swear on everything holy...”

Let me apologize

I'll make up, make up, make up, make up for all those times (all those times)

Your love, I don't wanna lose

I'm beggin', beggin', beggin', beggin', I'm beggin' you

“Not now, I have something to do.” He told his cousin as he looked at her seriously before gently moving her aside and continuing to walk down the aisle, ignoring the mixed looks of the people.

“HELL NO!” Mercedes’ mother exclaimed, asking for the Lord to forgive her for cursing up in his house. She stood up from her seat and made her way to the man, “You need to leave, right now.”

Sam looked at the scolding brown eyes that was about to kill him right then and there, “No.”

Carter, Mercedes’ soon to be husband....or was he, looked at her then to the dirty blonde then back to her, “You know him?”

Mercedes couldn’t speak. It was like she lost all ability in doing so. The only thing she could muster up the strength was to turn around away from the crowd, head down as she closed her eyes.

Virginia looked wide eyed between the adults, having no clue what was going on but by the looks of it, Ms. Cedes’ mama did not like her cousin. What is objecting and why was he doing it?

Wait, can you turn around, can you turn around?

Just wait, can we work this out, can we work this out?

Just wait, could you come here please? 'Cause I wanna be with you

“Will you turn around.....please?” He asked her, eyes watching on curiously at the two and the outcry of gasps when they heard his next words, “I need you to know how sorry I am and how much I love you.”

Mercedes closed her eyes tightly, the tears cascading down her cheeks as she stared completely at the ground. This was not suppose to happen. She was not suppose to ever see him again yet here he was.

“You’re not going to ruin this day or any parts of her life ever again. Leave, now. I won’t hesitate to call the police.”

Sam ignored her mother’s words and overpowered her with his own strength as he walked forward, forcing her to let loose of his shirt. He moved even closer to where she was, only to be blocked by this asshole who was standing at the alter with her, “Mercedes.”

“Look man, I don’t know who you but you need to leave. I’m sure whatever past you and Mercedes had, it’s over with. She’s about to be my wife. Let it go.” Carter glared at him, balling up his fist. How dare this man come and ruin his day.

Sam ignored him. He wasn’t relevant. He looked at Mercedes, whose back was still turned, her mother’s nagging long absent to his ears as he continued on his plea, “Mercedes, please turn around and please talk to me.”

“For the love of God, please talk to Sam.” Mercedes’ Dad whispered, or so he thought, when the gasp escaped the people around him once again. There. He admitted it. He did not like this kid his daughter was about to marry. Not that he wasn’t a respectful guy, he just wasn’t fond of him. While he was beyond upset about the situation and was pissed for awhile, he liked Sam. His daughter has never been happier than when she was with him. Sam was far from like his parents and if he went through so much to keep Mercedes hidden, it had to be for a good reason. He had to admit, he should’ve reached out a long time ago to the man, but his wife was adamant that he just needed to disappear from their lives for good. It sounded good, but he wasn’t for it. No matter how much his daughter pretended she was okay, she wasn’t and he knew for a fact that she wasn’t happy.

Mercedes eyes finally met his, tears spilled as she looked at him then at Carter, words that left everyone in shock, “I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” She dropped the bouquet and lifted up her dress, running out and past Sam as well, her mother hot on her trails.

“Go get your cousin.” Quinn told her daughter, hoping that the presence of a child would stop any fight that would break out.

Carter was livid and pissed at his day being ruined. He stepped to Sam, only to stop when he saw the little blonde headed girl come up and grab his hand, tugging him away.

Sam let himself be guided out the church and led outside, down the steps and onto the sidewalk, his cousin words bringing him out of his thoughts.

“I honestly can’t say I’m surprised but damn Sam, really?”

Sam didn’t have time to listen to his cousin ridicule him. He was thinking with his heart and not his mind, so the thought of rationality was out the window when he saw the invite in her mail yesterday, “I have to find her.”

“Sam...Sam, come back here.” Quinn could barely get out before the man was running down the street. Sighing, she looked at her daughter, who was looking back at her curiously.

“Cousin Sam really loves Ms. Cedes, huh?”

Quinn just smiled at her seven year old, grabbing ahold of her hand as she nodded her head as she lead them to her car, “Yes, he really does.”

Can we talk for a moment?

Got these feelings that I'm tired of holdin' on

Wasn't tryna get wasted

I needed more than three or four to say this, oh

Mercedes was missing and no one was able to find her. Well, that’s not true. Sam did. When Sam first came to Tulsa to meet her family, she showed him one of her favorite getaways from her overbearing mother. It was a bar, about fifteen minutes away from the church. As he opened the door, he found her almost immediately, the bartender pouring her a glass as she sat on the stool. Contrary to what people may think, Sam did fight, eight straight months to be exact but gave up once she made it clear that they were done.

Mercedes felt his presence as soon as the door opened. She knew he would eventually find her and majority of her was hoping he did, while a tiny part of her didn’t. She was on her second glass of whiskey when he took a seat beside her, hearing the bartender greet him and ask if he wanted something. After shaking his head, he left the two alone.

They sat in silence for a good ten minutes, Mercedes focused on the cup in front of her, Sam observing her. Neither one not wanting to speak first, but both deep down not knowing exactly how to start. What exactly do you say to a person you haven’t spoke to in almost four straight years? Sam was the first to try.

“I’m not sorry for ruining this day...not until I know for sure that you’re no longer in love with me.” When she didn’t respond, he continued, figuring that he was going to be doing all the talking, “I told my parents the truth about us and in return they told me I was dead to them. I don’t care though, because as long as you’re okay, I am. They were going to ruin your reputation, tarnish your name and make it impossible for anything you did. I couldn’t let that happen to you. I know it’s not an excuse and I should have told you instead doing what I did, but I wasn’t thinking rationally. To prevent them from doing anything, I recorded the threats, turn them in to my lawyer and got a restraining order. They won’t be getting to you or me, regardless if we’re together or not.” Sam felt himself getting emotional as he looked down at his hands, tears welling up in his eyes, “I just wasn’t thinking.”

You say I'm just another bad guy

You say I've done a lot of things I can't undo

Before you tell me for the last time, yeah

I'm beggin', beggin', beggin', beggin', beggin' you

“I may have implied it but I never called you the help. Not that it makes it any better and now that I’m here, I really see how selfish I am and once again, I’m ruining your life.” Sam sniffled as he wiped the tears away, trying his best not cry anymore, “I love you so much, Mercedes. So much. If nothing else comes from this, I just want you to know that I truly do love you and I’m so, so sorry for hurting you the way I did.”

Mercedes watched as he leaned forward but stopped himself, shaking his head as he probably figured he had no right. She watched as he got off the couch and started to walk away, “Sam.”

Sam immediately turned around when he heard the faint whisper of his name rolling off her tongue for the first time since he has been here, her eyes meeting his with a solemn expression, “Yes?”

Mercedes nibbled at the corner of her mouth before she got up from where she was sitting. She cleared her throat as she looked at him, “I believe you, I do and I should’ve given you a chance to explain but I was hurt. Four years ago, all I saw was red and I was hurt. I wanted to forget you and although it look like did...” Mercedes gestured to the dress she was still in, shaking her head, “I didn’t. I tried to force this relationship into being something more, but it was something my mom wanted. In a way, I have to thank you for showing up because I was really about to pull the dumbest thing I have ever done and that was marrying someone who I wasn’t in love with and knew I would never, ever truly be in love with. And for what? All because I never stopped loving you despite everything. I want nothing more than to jump in your arms and kiss you until the sun comes up but I can’t. At least....I won’t right now. I need to go properly dump my ex-fiancé and I just need a night by myself to take in everything.”

Sam nodded his head understandably, watching as she did the same while a tiny smile appeared on her lips before she grabbed her phone and keys. She started to make her way pass him but ultimately stopped when she got back in front of him, space now limited. Sam was about to move to the side to let her through but she had surprised him when she leaned up and placed her lips on his. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, which led to her wrapping her arms around his neck.

Mercedes instantly melted comfortably in his arms, tilting her head upward to deepen the kiss. This was the only man she loved. The only man she wanted to marry. Although she was disappointed from the past, she was willing to forgive him in the present, so they could have a future. She wanted that with him.

Feeling himself having trouble breathing, he pulled back breathlessly, leaning his forehead against hers as he tried to regain composure. His eyes met hers, a smile taking over his lips as he leaned forward and lazily pressed a kiss to her lips, “I’m never letting you go ever again. That’s a promise I intend to keep.”

“I’m counting on it.” She whispered as she kissed him once more before stepping back, clearing her throat once she realized that they had made a scene in the bar that was full and the people had been watching on curiously. Her eyes met his again with a smile, “Meet back here tomorrow at three.”

“Yes ma’am.” Sam watched as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, hearing her whisper those three little words back made him the happiest man alive.

“I love you too.”

And with that, she left out the bar, smiling a true real smile that has been in hiding for four years. Truth was, so many lessons were learned. A lesson of being honest, a lesson of listening, a lesson of communication and a lesson of never giving up on someone you truly love no matter how long it takes.

Wait, can you turn around, can you turn around?

Just wait, can we work this out, can we work this out?

Just wait, could you come here please? 'Cause I wanna be with you

#samcedes #samcedes fanfiction #samcedes one shot

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