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total-dxmure · 1 year ago

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✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff.

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“The fact that she’s military is the only thing saving her ass right now.”

Ellie kept her head bowed down low, her hands clasped in between her legs as she hunched over in the seat, making herself as small as possible. Her knuckles were bruised and scrapped to hell, the blood already dried and crusted. Most of the blood wasn’t hers, and if she thought about that fact for too long she’d probably have an episode. Either that or she’d throw up all over the sheriff’s office.

“Boss, I really appreciate you calling me instead of booking her. You have to understand that she’s in therapy and is on a shit ton of medications. Is the guy gonna press charges. . . ?” Hearing her best friend kiss up to his boss on her behalf had the vein in her forehead twitching.

“Technically the boy was shoplifting, so I doubt he’s gonna go forward with any sort’a legal action. I know she was trying to help, but she used excessive force. Beat the poor kid black and blue. . . I mean-” The officer lowered his voice, and Ellie could hear Jesse’s chair creak as he leaned forward. “His damn tooth was knocked out.” The sheriff whispered.

She closed her eyes tight, running a shaky hand over her face. She should own up to all of this and apologize. This was her fault, so why. . . why was she just sitting there? It was like she was glued to the chair, unable to move her head up. She couldn’t look Jesse in the eye. She was ashamed of herself.

Because she smelled like greasy, unwashed hair and cigarettes, was wearing the same pair of jeans she’d worn yesterday when he invited her over to his and Dina’s for dinner, and now he was having to pick her up at the police station for starting a fight.

A pack of beer. That’s what she’d pummeled the boy over.

He couldn’t have even been her age. He looked freshly legal, and something in her fucked up mind told her that it was okay to hurt him like that. The second that the nice elderly woman behind the counter had started screaming about a man stealing from her, some sort of switch had been flipped in her brain. Loud noises always made her feel anxious, but screaming like that? She couldn’t have stopped the meltdown even if she’d wanted to. So she dropped what she was holding and ran after him. What happened afterwards was. . . well, it was a blur. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and rubbed her temples, trying hard to remember.

Her therapist called them “PTSD episodes”. Random things triggered a breakdown: loud noises, gunshots, screams, flashes of light. . . they were unavoidable. She’d lose total track of time when it happened. One second the door to Ellie’s walk-in closet was closing behind her, plummeting her in darkness, and the next she’d be laying on her back in the middle of her room, balling her eyes out. Living like this was hell, but no matter how many mind-numbing pills she was prescribed, she still found it nearly impossible to function.

She didn’t want to scare her loved ones. When Joel called she just. . . lied. It made her feel dirty. It was wrong and she knew that, but it was better than the alternative. Being a liar was better than being a broken failure.

“Yeah, I’m doing great. My therapist is on to something, I think.”

“Come on, rambo. Let’s get you to bed.” Jesse placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, knowing better than to pat her on the back like he used to.

Ellie knew it hurt him to see her flinch under his touch. She swallowed back bile and stood up, practically having to drag herself out of the officers office. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t thank him or- or anything.

But then he did that thing. . . he thanked Ellie.

Ellie didn’t give a shit about the military discounts or the cheaper car insurance- she got a nice cushy check from the military every month just for breathing. She didn’t want pity or thanks simply because she didn’t deserve it.

“Thank you for your service, Williams.” The sheriff’s voice reminded her of Joel’s. For some reason that made it hurt even worse.

Still, her muscles tightened, and she worked hard to straighten her posture.

“It was my privilege.” It was a well rehearsed response. It didn’t even sound like her voice when she had said it though, and it scared her.

As she followed Jesse out to his truck, she tried to ascertain whether she was just beginning to disassociate or whether or not this was all just another strange side effect from her meds.

She blinked and suddenly she was already situated in the car, Jesse on the main road to get the both of them back home. He had the radio turned down to just a hum, his sleepy eyes glued to the road in front of him. The clock on his dashboard told her that it wasn’t just “late” anymore, but “morning” now. Ellie sat up suddenly, her heart pounding as she tried to map out exactly how many minutes she had just lost.

“Fuck.” She breathed, pressing her palms against her eyes.

She needed to call her therapist sometime today. She needed. . . She needed a lower dose of medication. There’s no way any of this was normal.

“Have you eaten?” Jesse asked, turning his head to finally look at her.

Ellie wished that he felt inconvenienced by her. Anger would be better than pity, but the look in his eyes was anything but annoyance. Jesse looked like he was close to tears. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and Ellie felt called to reach her hand out and place it on his shoulder. She wasn’t a very touchy person these days (and it’s not like she was to begin with), but he needed it.

“Not in a couple of hours.” Ellie answered him, letting her fingers dig into the soft fabric of his shirt.

He nodded and cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter. When Ellie dropped her hand and turned to look out the passenger side window, she could have sworn he lifted his arm to hurriedly wipe at his eyes. She couldn’t be sure though. . . seeing as she was now legally blind in her left eye. The wonky eye and the thin scar that started in the middle of her forehead and ended on her brow bone were the only physical reminders that she had of the explosion.

It seemed so miniscule compared to all of the shit that was going on in her head. She’d much rather have a destroyed body than a brain that didn’t work right anymore.

“How about you sleep in the guest bedroom? Dina’s probably worried sick about the both of us. Let’s. . . let’s spend the day together. Yeah?” It sounded like he was pleading with her.

There was a brief moment of heavy silence. No matter how much of a burden she saw herself as, the thought of going home right now frightened her. Ellie was terrified that she was going to end up all alone in this world, but she couldn’t stop pushing everyone away. It’s almost as if. . . she knew that she was bound to self-destruct at some point. She didn’t want anyone to see her like that.

“She’s going to kill me.” Ellie groaned out, dramatically banging her head against the headrest.

Jesse’s lips twitched up into a smile, but he was quick to try and mask it. “Nah. Dina? Mad at you for getting arrested at one thirty in the morning? No way.” His tone was sarcastic, and Ellie appreciated the fact that Jesse could still joke under circumstances like this. It made things feel almost normal. Almost.

Ellie winced, dragging a battered and bruised hand over her face. She had no idea why she’d been at the gas station picking up a bag of pretzels and a pack of ding-dongs that late at night. A documentary about the recently discovered Exo-planet was on the Discovery channel, and she’d actually worked up an appetite after it was over. She missed acting her age. Maybe that’s why she ended up getting into her Jeep. She was tired of feeling nostalgic and actually wanted to do something for herself. As minuscule as grabbing snacks from the gas station down the street was, it still felt out of the ordinary for her. Special.

Dina was sitting on the couch when the pair slunk into the house, walking on their tip toes in the hopes that the creaking wooden floors wouldn’t wake up JJ. Ellie froze in the entryway, green eyes wide as she took in the female’s crossed arms and death-glare. She was in trouble, which meant that Jesse was in trouble as well by association.

“Do you know what time it is?” Dina whisper-yelled, throwing her arm in the direction of the clock on the wall.

Ellie squinted her one good eye, noting that it was now four in the morning. She’d lost three hours. She should have been passed out on her prescribed sleeping pills by now, plagued by vivid nightmares. Instead she was intruding on her two best friends, and for what? ‘A pack of beer’, she reminded herself. A god damn pack of fuckin’ beer.

Ellie’s mouth went dry, her lips moving but no words escaping her. How many times had she apologized to Dina since she’d gotten home after the accident? Still, her best friend’s anger was better than Jesse’s pity. The sleeves of Ellie’s flannel tightened around her biceps as she crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring Dina’s posture as if to protect herself. She slipped a hand up, covering her neck anxiously.

“I’m getting better, D. I’ll schedule an emergency meeting with my therapist and-” Ellie sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

What she was doing couldn’t be called living. Ellie was simply existing and not doing a very good job at it either. She was tired of being tired. She blinked her misty eyes, turning to face the kitchen. She refused to cry. Once she started she couldn’t be sure that she’d be able to stop.

Jesse and Dina’s shoes were all neatly laid out by the front door and JJ’s baby bag was sitting on the dining room table. This was a family that she had just burdened. Her eyes snagged on JJ’s highchair, and then the guilt was building right back up in her chest.

Guilt and jealousy.

Ellie had once had hopes of starting her own family eventually. When did she lose her grasp on that? On her lifelong dreams and aspirations? She wanted to help people- save people- so when had she become the one that needed saving? The marines hadn’t ruined Ellie. Ellie had ruined Ellie.

“No, you’re not.” Dina said simply, her voice sounding thick with emotion. “Ellie, look at me.” Her voice was commanding despite her sadness.

Ellie’s eyes fell to the floor, but she turned her head to face Dina, green eyes flickering up to her face. Bottom lip quivering, brown eyes misty- Dina looked miserable.

“You’re not getting better.” She whispered to Ellie, shaking her head to drive the point home. It looked like the words physically hurt for her to say.

Every excuse that she could have given dissipated. Suddenly she felt naked, utterly exposed. Every nasty, jagged scar was on full display. How many times had she said that to the people that cared about her?

“I’m getting better.” “I actually feel a bit better today.” “You don’t have to worry about me. The meds are really working this time.” Ellie wasn’t sure when it happened but she had become a liar. A damn good one too. Dina was looking at her now though, really looking at her, and Ellie’s face crumpled.

“Fuck.” Ellie whispered to herself, moving her hands to cover her face.

Jesse stepped behind Ellie, wrapping his arms around her tightly, resting his cheek on the top of her head. A sob caught in Ellie’s chest and she strangled it before it could escape her. She couldn’t lose it. She couldn’t let her shoulders sag, couldn’t allow herself to feel everything in front of her best friends.

“I called Joel,” Dina finally said, leaning against the back of the couch, her knuckles going white with how hard she gripped the leather. “And he bought you a plane ticket. You’re flying out tomorrow.”

“No,” Ellie was already shaking her head before Dina had even finished her sentence. “How could you do this?” She felt the betrayal like a slap in the face. Her lips parted, eyes wide in silent desperation.

Please let this be a nightmare.

Her hand desperately flew to her arm, giving it a sharp pinch. The floor didn’t fall out from under her. She didn’t sit up sweating in her tangled sheets. This was actually happening. Actually real.

“You’re flailing, Ellie. We thought that eventually you’d level out,” Dina tried, taking a few steps towards Ellie and her husband. “But you’re only getting worse.”

“I’m getting better.” The well rehearsed line was the only thing she could think to utter. She prayed that eventually she could convince herself of that too. If she said the words enough times then maybe, eventually, they would become her reality. Perhaps she could somehow manifest her recovery.

“When was the last time you ate a solid meal? You barely touched your plate the other night. And I know you aren’t eating the food that Jesse drops off for you.” Dina was pointing out her flaws as if she didn’t see them all herself.

A full stomach meant nausea.

“When was the last time you showered?” The dark haired girl questioned.

Showering meant closing herself up into a tight space. It meant getting naked- seeing her scars. Remembering what happened to her and the rest of her unit.

“We know how this will end, Ellie. I don’t care if you hate me for the rest of my life for calling Joel. I refuse to lose you like this.” Dina’s voice quivered as she spoke, but her eyes hardened. She was resolute about her decision.

Jesse’s arms tightened around Ellie and suddenly they no longer felt like a comfort but a prison. She needed air. Needed to call Joel and apologize. Needed to tell him that she was fine. She was fine. She would be just fine.

“I can’t breathe.” Ellie managed to whisper out, knees buckling from underneath her. It felt like the world was finally swallowing her up whole.

She was a failure. She’d failed Jesse, Dina, JJ and Joel. Why couldn’t she just be normal again? Why couldn’t she just fucking breathe.

Jesse let go of Ellie as she began gasping for air, helping to sit her down on the cold hardwood floor. It felt like everything around her had slowed down to a crawl, but her mind- it had sped up to a breakneck pace. She couldn’t turn it off. Couldn’t turn off the thoughts and the images and the feelings.

She’d killed her unit. It was her fault that they all died. They had all been taken home in body bags, and what had Ellie gotten? A fucking government issued check every month that she blew on booze and a Purple Heart that collected dust.

“D, get the medication that’s in the cabinet and a glass of water.” Jesse called out to his wife. It sounded like they were underwater. She was drowning.

“She’s ripping her fucking hair out, Jesse.” Dina called out in panic, rifling through the medicine cabinet with shaky hands. Her best friend gripped her wrists, forcing them back down to her sides. Strands of Auburn hair were tangled up between her clammy fingers.

JJ must have woken up because of the comotion. She could hear him crying from the other room. Screaming for his mother.

Blood. So much blood. It’s coming out of her mouth, what do I do? What do I do about internal bleeding again? Wasn’t I trained for this? Breathe. She’s not breathing. Are there other landmines? Can I drag her to safety? Where is everyone else? H-How. . . How can I help?

“Swallow, Ellie.” Dina was crouched in front of her, forcing her lips open to slide a pill onto her tongue.

“It was my fault. I-I fucking,” She choked out, gagging at the taste of the pill that was beginning to dissolve on her tongue. “I led them out there. Oh, fuck.”

Dina was beginning to panic, pushing the plastic cup up to Ellie’s mouth in the hopes that she would drink. She did, choking back the water in deep gulps. The water helped to fill the aching pit that was beginning to grow in her stomach. Water poured down the sides of Ellie’s lips, but she kept drinking. Deep, thoughtful gulps of ice cold water.

“Should I call an ambulance?” Dina finally asked, her eyes flickering between Ellie and her husband.

“No. No hospital. Just go sit with JJ, alright? I’ve got her.” Jesse told her, letting go of Ellie’s hands so that he could wrap an arm around her waist, hugging her against his chest so that she couldn’t stand up.

Ellie blinked and Dina was gone, the sound of her bare feet jogging down the hall was the only reminder of her presence.

“Joel isn’t going to judge you, Ellie. We all just want to help. So let us, alright?” She knew he was telling the truth, but the thought of Joel seeing her as lesser-than killed her. She would crumble completely if Joel looked at her with the same sorrowful eyes that Jesse did.

Joel was newly retired though, and the last thing he needed was to put up with his PTSD-ridden adopted daughter. She was tired of feeling like a burden, but where had standing on her own two feet gotten her? Arrested on multiple occasions? So she relented. She surrendered to the idea of sleeping in her old bedroom and taking up space in Joel’s too-big ranch home.

“Okay.” Ellie croaked, feeling the medication kicking in. Sleep. All Ellie wanted to do was sleep.

“Okay?” Jesse repeated back to her, needing to know that she was serious. The last thing he probably wanted to do was wrestle Ellie onto the plane. He wasn’t entirely sure he could overpower her when it came down to it.

“Okay.”

Grief was an uphill battle. One minute you’re laughing with your friends and then the next you’re laid up in bed, tossing and turning with the realization that what could have been was now an impossibility. You missed Abby. You missed the life that you could have had with her. All of the memories and milestones you missed out on were soul crushing the second that the sun went down.

You were left in your empty house, laid up in the bed that the two of you once shared. Her scent had long since washed out of her pillow. All that was left were pictures and a gravesite that you still couldn’t bring yourself to visit. Life doesn’t stop when you lose somebody though. People eventually become less forgiving as the months pass by.

So you squeezed your eyes closed and hoped that sleep would come sooner rather than later. You had an early start tomorrow for work, and the last thing you wanted was to show up with puffy eyes.

Life was getting better though. The pain wasn't as debilitating as it had been months ago, and for that you were thankful.

One step at a time, one day at a time.

You were still breathing, which was exactly what Abby would have wanted for you. The overwhelming grief hadn't killed you, no matter how many times you'd secretly prayed that it would. You were still here and that was good enough.

For now, at least.

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bellaxgiornata · 23 days ago

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You Are My Sunshine [2]

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.8k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; sunshine!Reader/grumpy!Jax (somewhat), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, canon divergent, canon typical violence (more tags to possibly come)

a/n: May have been on a roll with writing, so enjoy part two sooner than anticipated! I greatly appreciated all the comments on the last part, too! Y'all are the reason I've already started on part three. I've also found that I'm enjoying the Jax POV's so there's more in this one and the next! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

tag list: @mariamadison6-blog @moongirlgodness

The rush of customers in the coffee shop had finally dwindled down after opening, leaving you with the usual mid-morning lull with which you’d grown accustomed. The elderly couple that came in almost every single morning around the same time to have a coffee was sitting at the exact same table in the far corner where they always sat, sipping their coffees and chatting quietly with each other. A college-aged young woman currently sat posted up at the front counter with her laptop and a notebook, her attention focused on an assignment. The sight of them brought a smile to your face as you filled up your small watering can at the underbar sink behind the counter.

You’d opened this coffee shop with the intention of it becoming a place for people around Charming to feel welcome. Whether that meant Honest Coffee was a spot to come and enjoy a cup of coffee for a first date or with a spouse of thirty years, or a place for students to focus on homework or others to come in and work. Whatever it was that brought repeat customers in here and allowed you the opportunity to meet the members of your town, it gave you joy seeing your shop growing into exactly what you’d hoped it could become.

Mia, one of the baristas you’d hired when the shop had first opened months ago, stood beside you as she cleaned down the machines and wiped down the counters. You’d noticed she wasn’t quite as chatty, working in an unusually thoughtful silence this morning, but just as you’d been about to ask if something was on her mind, the approaching rumble of motorcycles had caused her to stiffen and stop working. The noise grabbed your own attention as it drowned out the sound of the music playing over the speakers. You gave Mia a curious sidelong glance before the line of bikes pulling into the lot across the street drew your attention over to the front windows of your coffee shop.

Standing there holding the full watering can in your hands, you watched with Mia as the handful of men rolled into the lot across the street in the bright morning sunshine. The group of men backed up in the parking lot, lining their bikes beside each other in front of the clubhouse. The difference was almost immediate once they all began to cut their engines, the shop becoming noticeably quieter than it had been a second ago. It was something else you’d also just grown accustomed to with having a coffee shop located across the street from the Sons of Anarchy.

It didn’t skip your notice how the few people in the shop were all reacting to the motorcycle club, either. Besides the way Mia had gone completely still beside you, the young woman working on her laptop was agitatedly clicking her nails on the countertop. Across the shop, the elderly couple was staring out of the window beside them with matching guarded expressions on their faces before you caught them exchanging a look with each other. The elderly woman rolled her eyes at her husband and you frowned at the sight.

It wasn't that you were oblivious about what was said around town about the Sons, because you definitely weren't. You'd heard the rumors–everything from them selling guns to making crack to being killers for hire. You knew most of the things people said about them were embellished, false assumptions, but you also were aware that some things probably held some truth.

But that didn't matter to you. You were a firm believer in everyone deserving a fair chance. Equal treatment. You'd met Gemma, the supposed matriarch of the Sons, a few times now. She had come in often after you had first opened the shop. And while she'd absolutely come across completely different than the usual citizens of Charming, you'd found her to be a very sweet woman–in her own special way. And you'd had a strong inkling that her visits to your shop for coffee as she chatted with you about your plants or how business was coming along had just been a way for her to ease the pain of missing her son while he was doing time in Stockton.

A few nights ago when you had finally met that son of hers, you'd gotten a feel for the Sons’ President. You weren't entirely sure what had brought him in after you had closed that night–because you were certain it wasn't the coffee–but you had caught the hint of pain hidden deep in the depths of his blue eyes despite all of his charming smiles and pet names. In all honesty, he had seemed lonely and lost beneath all that playboy persona you'd heard about. You hadn't minded letting him stay to chat because he seemed like he needed a friend or some kind words, even if he didn't realize it himself. And you had been content to be that for a short time.

“It's unfortunate your coffee shop is across the street from that,” Mia muttered.

Snapping out of your thoughts at the sound of her voice, you looked over at where she'd resumed cleaning down the counter. You could feel the frustration building in your gut, but you did your best to tamp it down and keep it at bay. Not everyone in Charming was as determined to be as open-minded as you were. It was a small town, after all. And it wasn't like the Sons hadn't caused their own fair share of trouble over the years.

“Why do you say that?” you asked.

Setting the filled watering can down on the counter, you turned and focused on your employee. Mia pulled a face at the question before she dropped the towel she was cleaning with onto the countertop and fixed her full attention on you.

“Really?” she asked before gesturing a hand at the front shop window. “Your coffee shop is across the street from a whole criminal operation. A very loud, very crude one. It's not exactly the most ideal location.”

Shrugging a shoulder, your eyes darted across the street. A bunch of men in kuttes, as Jax had taught you they were called the other night, were congregating in front of their bikes. You could easily make out Jax amongst the group from his blonde hair even from this distance. He looked angry about something as he spoke, one of his arms gesturing in wide, sharp movements. Briefly you wondered what had made him quite so furious before your attention returned to Mia and the topic of conversation.

“The rent was vastly more affordable for this building,” you told her, knowing exactly why it was. “And while it can occasionally get a little noisy with the motorcycles, and some people aren't the biggest fan of our neighbors, I don't really feel bothered by their presence.”

Mia sent you a flat look, one of her brows arching upwards in disbelief. “They don't bother you? Are you completely insane?”

“They're really not that bad,” you disagreed.

Both of Mia's brows shot up onto her forehead at that, her jaw partially dropping. You playfully rolled your eyes at her in return, an amused smile curving the corners of your lips. She was always so dramatic.

“Are you serious?” Mia asked. “Have you forgotten Gemma already since her last visit?”

You shook your head at the question. Of course you hadn't forgotten the woman. You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to forget her.

“Gemma is just blunt. She speaks her mind,” you replied. “Maybe it's a bit much for most people, but she's really not all that bad.”

“Well the guys over there–” Mia continued, gesturing back out the front window with a hand again while remaining focused on you, “–definitely aren't good.”

You shook your head, picking the full watering can up from its place on the counter. “That is entirely a matter of opinion. You can’t paint people in black and white, Mia. What one person considers “good” is arguably “bad” to someone else, and vice versa. It's objective. A social construct. It isn't like they haven't participated in charity work around Charming. Done things to arguably help the town on occasion, either.”

“Well, you can't argue that they don't break laws. And I think killing people is pretty black and white, boss,” Mia called after you as you began watering the plants in the shop. “That’s about as sharp of a contrast as you can get between the two.”

“Maybe in some cases,” you agreed, watering one of your pothos plants that had been growing like crazy in a hanging basket nearby. “But to some extent, I think there's more factors to be considered before passing judgement. Like the why behind it all. Something no one in this town probably really knows when it comes to each one of them.”

Mia exhaled sharply at your words, the sound almost like she was deflating at your response. A moment later she began laughing a little, the noise catching your attention as you moved to water the next plant.

“Okay, I didn't sign up for one of your lectures on morality this morning,” Mia teased you.

You grinned as you focused back on watering the plant before you. “All I'm saying is that humans are complex, you can't just–”

“Lectures on morality?” Gemma's distinct voice cut through the conversation, causing both you and Mia to glance over at the shop’s entrance. “I thought you just sold coffee here, now you're lecturing on morality, sweetheart?”

Mia grew tense behind the counter instantly, her mouth closing as she forced a professional smile onto her face that clearly looked forced when she greeted Gemma. But you genuinely smiled over at the dark-haired woman, and that smile only grew wider when you saw who she had brought with her–Abel. His blonde head came to just about knee-height beside her as he held onto her hand, but the moment the almost one-and-a-half year old little boy saw you, the biggest smile spread across his own face.

During Jax’s time away in Stockton, Gemma had spent a lot of time watching Abel when he wasn't with his nanny. Which meant sometimes she had brought him with her when she came in for coffee, so you had gotten to know him along with Gemma over the past few months. And Abel had gotten used to the free cookie you'd given him every time–anything from chocolate chips to snickerdoodles to monster cookies. He'd taken to calling you ‘cookie’ because of it, something you personally adored hearing in his little voice every time.

“I didn't know my favorite customer was coming in today!” you exclaimed.

Turning in a hurry, you set the watering can down on the counter behind you before rushing across your shop, not having seen the little boy for over a week. The moment he began hopping in place next to Gemma, his small hand still wrapped around hers, you felt your heart melt. He was the sweetest little boy.

“You're more chipper than usual today,” Gemma observed.

You caught the teasing smile on her face before you knelt down in front of Abel, your smile widening when he waved at you and called you 'cookie’ once again. You'd been about to open your mouth to ask him if he was ready to pick out a cookie today, but a now familiar voice behind Gemma caught your attention.

“What about cookies, little man?”

Looking up from your place on the floor of the shop, you saw Jax stepping inside just behind his mother, the door falling shut behind him. The moment his attention left Abel and focused on you, you went still. Judging by the look of confusion on his face, you guessed he hadn't known about Abel's visits with Gemma to your shop. But behind that outward confusion written on his face, you could still see the remnants of something like anger left over from when you'd seen him yelling about something across the street a short time ago. You were half tempted to ask how he was doing today, but you had a feeling the question would be met with either a lie or hostility. So you left it alone this time.

“Been bringing Abel here with me since you boys were in Stockton,” Gemma explained, turning on the spot and studying her own son closely as he stepped further inside. “He calls the owner ‘cookie’ cause she always gives him one when he visits.”

Jax's expression shifted to something harder when his mother mentioned Stockton Prison, a muscle jumping in his cheek. You quietly watched as some sort of silent exchange occurred between them while you remained kneeling in front of Abel.

“The hell are you doing here, anyway, Jackson?” Gemma asked after a moment of silence, still eyeing him suspiciously. “Don't you have a...thing to go deal with?”

Jax’s eyes narrowed at his mother before he answered. “A few of the guys are handling it right now,” he replied, voice tense. “Thought I'd see what you and Abel were up to. Figured I could use a coffee myself.”

Gemma’s head tilted to the side, one dark brow arching up at his comment as if she didn’t quite believe him. Not wanting to get in the middle of whatever was going on between them, you stood back up, eyes shifting between the pair.

“So…is it alright if I let Abel pick out a cookie this morning?” you asked cautiously.

Both Gemma and Jax turned their attention to you at the sound of your voice. Almost simultaneously they both responded to the question, the sight causing you to bite back a grin.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Sure thing, sunshine.”

Gemma's head immediately snapped in Jax’s direction as she pulled a face at him. “Sunshine?” she questioned sharply.

Fighting down a laugh at the briefly sheepish expression you caught on Jax’s face before he recovered, you grabbed Abel's hand and led him over towards the front counter. You noticed the firm look Jax sent his mother before you walked away–the one clearly telling her to not say anything further.

As you helped Abel pick out one of the freshly baked cookies you had made–peanut butter brownie swirl–you could hear Mia awkwardly taking Gemma and Jax’s drink order behind the register. She began fumbling behind the counter shortly afterwards as she started on Gemma's latte, clearly more thrown off by the presence of Jax with her this time. The only time he'd come into the coffee shop was the other night after closing when it had just been you here. Besides that night and Gemma's visits, no other Son or affiliate of the Sons had ever actually come into your shop.

You could tell Jax’s presence wasn't just affecting Mia as Abel happily ran back to his father's side with his cookie in hand. The young woman at the counter doing her schoolwork kept shooting Jax nervous sideways glances. She had almost imperceptibly inched away from them where she sat at the counter, as if wanting to put some distance between herself and the pair. Across the room, the elderly couple was scowling at Gemma and Jax, whispering amongst themselves at the table.

Oddly enough, neither Jax nor Gemma seemed to notice or react to the negative attention. They were too busy leaning against the counter waiting for their drinks as Abel contentedly munched on his cookie, both mother and son talking in hushed tones. Your smile faltered a little at the wary look you once more caught on the young woman's face before you saw Mia growing flustered behind the counter. Deciding to rescue her, you joined her behind the counter and started on Jax’s coffee–the same order as what you'd made him the other night.

Mia shot you a grateful look as she filled the frothing pitcher with milk. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Smiling as you started on Jax’s coffee, you shook your head at her. “You're making this into something more than it needs to be,” you whispered back. “They're just here for coffee like anyone else.”

Mia leaned over towards you, pausing as she set the frothing wand of the espresso machine into the pitcher. “Usually my customers aren't armed though,” she countered quietly. “That makes a difference.”

“He's not going to shoot you for messing up a coffee order,” you told her as you grabbed a to-go cup for Jax’s coffee.

“You have no proof of that. Just look at his face today, he looks like he'd shoot someone for less,” she murmured.

The loud sound of the milk frothing abruptly ended the conversation as Mia focused back on Gemma's order. As Jax’s coffee began extracting into the pitcher, you couldn’t resist looking over your shoulder to where he and his mother were still leaning against the counter.

He did look upset, Mia wasn't wrong about that. Both of his brows were pulled marginally together, a slight crease visible between them. His mouth was drawn into a straight line as he listened to whatever Gemma was saying, the corners of his lips occasionally shifting downwards. There was even a noticeable stiffness in the way he was just leaning against the countertop that hadn't been there when you'd met him the other night. But behind all that rigidness that made him look tightly wound, there was an exhaustion in his eyes that seemed like it went further than just a bad night of sleep.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you focused back on the coffee you were making, but a second later an idea struck you. Reaching over beside the stack of to-go cups, you grabbed the black marker used for writing names on orders and began writing something small on the outside of his cup, a faint smile on your lips as you did. Afterwards, you placed the cap on the marker and set it back before you began filling Jax’s cup with the coffee that had finished brewing. As you finished up, you heard Mia turn around and nervously give Gemma her drink.

Grabbing a lid, you fastened it onto Jax’s cup before also turning around. He was already focused on you, his blue eyes watching as you stepped over to where the pair stood on the other side of the counter. You set Jax's drink down in front of him, a warm and friendly smile on your face. He looked like he could use one–and probably a hug, too, but you figured that would certainly be a weird offer.

“Thanks, sunshine,” Jax said.

There was the ghost of a smile on his lips for the briefest of moments before it disappeared as his hand reached out, grabbing the cup without looking at it. He looked as if he'd been about to say something more, but the amused huff from Gemma had his expression quickly growing further irritated than it had been a moment ago.

“Won't bother you today,” Jax told you, pushing off the counter with his ringed hand. “Gotta deal with some shit. But thanks for the coffee.”

A small pang of disappointment hit you when you realized he wasn't going to even chat for a minute, but you figured you should just count it as a win that he had come back into the shop at all. Maybe that meant there’d be a third visit. With a smile still on your lips, you nodded back at him.

“Of course,” you replied. “I'm always happy to fuel a caffeine addiction.”

Gemma laughed a little, shaking her head at what you’d said. It was a line you'd used a few times now and she knew that.

“You should lay off on snorting those coffee beans, sweetie. You're already plenty perky,” she teased as she grabbed Abel's hand.

“Or maybe that's my secret,” you jokingly countered, enjoying the way Jax seemed to be fighting back a grin as he sauntered over to the counter by the exit to add sweetener into his coffee. “A few lines of freshly ground beans first thing in the morning. Wakes you right up.”

Gemma laughed, the sound loud and genuine. A flood of pride hit you, especially when Jax began securing the lid back on his coffee, his attention on you as an almost cocky, amused grin tugged at his lips. Maybe it was only for a moment, but you’d briefly brightened both of their mornings.

“You take care, sunshine,” Gemma teased.

She turned and led Abel out of the door, Jax following behind her now with a surly look on his face at the way she’d used his nickname for you. Mia stepped over beside you as they left, watching the three of them cross the street back towards the clubhouse and Teller-Morrow.

“It’s insanely weird how well you can get along with absolutely anyone,” Mia said after a moment, turning to look over at you standing beside her. “You realize that, right?”

Your smile only grew wider at her words as your eyes remained fixed on the retreating form of Jax. You’d gotten a bit more of a genuine smile out of him today even if you hadn’t gotten much conversation. That was something, at least. Eyes shifting over to Mia, you shrugged a shoulder.

“I like people,” you answered simply.

“The hell you think you’re doing with that girl over there?” Gemma asked sharply.

Her eyes fell on Jax as they passed the line of bikes in front of the clubhouse, Abel’s hand still wrapped around hers as he finished eating his cookie. Jax immediately rolled his eyes at his mother’s tone, not interested in being scolded like he was a teenager all over again.

“I’m not doing anything,” he responded firmly.

Gemma shot him a pointed look, clearly not buying what he was saying. He huffed in annoyance, stuffing his free hand into his jeans pocket as he brought his coffee cup up to his lips for another drink. Christ, it was still as good as the other night when you’d made him one.

“Bullshit,” Gemma continued. “Sunshine? Really? I’ve never once in my life heard you call a woman that, Jax. And I’ve heard you call them plenty of shit.”

He swallowed down the coffee, his irritation rising with where he felt she was trying to take this conversation. “So what? It’s a goddamn nickname, Gem. You got a problem with a nickname now?” he snapped at her.

Her lips drew into a thin line across her face as she came to an abrupt halt which in turn had Jax stopping just behind her and Abel. The way her eyes narrowed at him meant trouble and he knew it.

“That sweet, nice coffee shop owner back there is not club pussy, Jackson,” she began sternly. “Just because her shop happens to be as close as it is to the clubhouse does not mean–”

“Jesus Christ, relax!” he shouted, cutting her clean off. “You don’t think I know that? I’m not interested in her like that, alright? I just stopped over there the other night because…”

His voice trailed off for a minute, unable to even try to think of a reason as to why he had, especially with the way Gemma was staring at him right now. Truthfully, he still hadn’t known why he’d gone into your shop the other night in the first place, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you on and off since then. And he certainly had still been watching you through your shop’s windows.

Jax ran a hand across his mouth in agitation before he continued, trying to keep his tone more level. “Look, I stopped in there the other night ‘cause I saw her closing up. She always just looks so goddamn happy and…I dunno. Just made me curious what the hell was up with someone like that, okay? I’m not trying to get her in my bed or anything, Gem. I promise.”

“Better not be,” Gemma warned, her eyes still narrowed at him. “Because that girl is not meant for our world and you know it. She’s far too kind and sweet, she’d probably have a heart attack spending one night around the guys at the clubhouse. And I don’t need you charming your way into her bed and breaking her tender little heart and having her spitting into my coffee whenever I stop in because I birthed a little shit.”

Jax scoffed, pulling a face at her over-dramatic words. “I’m not going to sleep with her. You can calm the hell down already. And I highly doubt she’d ever spit into a coffee, she seems far too nice for that.”

“Not the point,” Gemma countered.

Jax watched as his mother led his son by the hand back towards TM’s office, a scowl on his face as the noise from the garage rang out around him. Anger flared within Jax from the conversation he’d just had with her. He didn’t know why her warning to stay away from you had him bristling and itching to hit something because she’d been completely right on all fronts. You were a good person and absolutely nothing like the club whores he was used to. Not that he’d had any intention of it, but sleeping with you would certainly end with your heart getting broken because Jax was not a relationship kind of guy–even less so after the bullshit with Tara that made him hate the idea of one even more. And the thought of you knowing any little bit about the things he’d done for the club had his hand tightening around the paper cup of coffee you’d given him.

Gemma was entirely right. You weren’t someone who belonged in his world. Without a doubt, Jax knew the only thing he’d ever be capable of doing to you would be snuffing out that bright, warm light he found himself strangely drawn to, and that wasn’t something he’d ever want to do to you–even if he barely knew you.

Teeth gritting together, Jax knew that you’d be better off if he stopped visiting your damn coffee shop. He glanced over at the nearby trash can just outside of the garage. He exhaled a sharp breath and made his way over towards it, reaching his hand out with the mostly full cup of coffee. As it hovered over the open bin, Jax about to drop it into the garbage, black ink hidden behind his hand caught his eye.

Frowning, he pulled the cup back and shifted his hold on it to get a better look. In small, delicate handwriting he saw the words ‘maybe this is the cup.’ Jax’s eyes narrowed in confusion as he reread the line over again, wondering what the hell you’d meant by writing that on his cup. And then he remembered the other night when he’d stopped into your shop and you’d told him you believed a good cup of coffee could make a bad day better or some bullshit along those lines. When he’d disagreed, he remembered your words exactly, hearing your own voice in his head for a moment.

“You never know, maybe you just haven't had the right cup of coffee yet.”

An amused breath fell out of Jax as he shook his head at the fucking cup of coffee in his hand, reading what you’d written again–“maybe this is the cup.” You were so goddamn persistent and optimistic, weren’t you? You really thought one of these days that a stupid cup of coffee was going to somehow change his day, didn’t you?

“You’re something else, sunshine,” Jax muttered to the cup in his hand.

He stared at it for a moment longer, his eyes tracing along the lines of black ink before a voice behind him cut through his thoughts. Jax’s head darted over his shoulder, spotting Chibs making his way towards him.

“There ya are, Jackie,” he began. “Was lookin’ for ya. We got an update on that problem, might wanna head to the chapel so we can fill ya in.”

Jax sighed softly, nodding his head at Chibs. “Right,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”

He turned around, following Chibs back across the lot to the clubhouse. As he walked, he drew the cup of coffee up to his lips for another drink. When he swallowed the warm liquid down, his gaze inevitably returned to your neat, delicate script beside his fingers. The corner of his lips twitched.

#jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction

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intothedysphoria · 1 month ago

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The house was tiny.

Steve took a moment to take in the peeling paint and rusty doorframe (god he didn’t want hepatitis) before knocking as confidently as possible when it felt as if the door might cave in.

The things he did to see his boyfriend more than once a week.

(Steve would remember later that Billy used to live with a father who called him “that damn Jew” whenever they “hung out”. So maybe the new situation wasn’t that bad.)

A man who looked like, despite being eighty, he could still probably take on a bear, opened the door with a suspicious look on his face. He then gave an even more suspicious look at Steve’s footwear.

“Billy’s lad?”

The man spoke with a heavy Irish accent and Steve quickly realised he was speaking to Billy’s grandfather.

He nodded and was then ushered inside, choosing to ignore the grumble of “Americans”, which he could have done without.

Billy was sitting behind the kitchen counter, wearing a soccer uniform and chatting animatedly with an elderly woman. She pinched his cheek and then addressed Steve in the same cadence.

“Will you be wanting any tea love?”

Her voice was like being plunged into a hot bath, but pleasantly so. Steve grabbed a mug, tracing his fingers over the intricate designs. Billy decided to acknowledge him at last by loosely cupping their hands together.

“How’s it been Harrington?”

How had life without Billy been? Steve being stuck in the same old small town while Billy had moved an entire continent away?

Cold. Lonely. A depressing amount of crying.

Steve forced a wafer thin smile to curl up onto his lips.

“Fine. It’s been fine. So how’s Killarney?”

Billy’s face lit up. He loved Ireland, maybe even more than he had California. The only people he’d really missed had been Steve, Max and Eddie Munson (Munson’s Welsh, he gets it).

And Heather.

They didn’t bring up Heather.

Billy’s grandparents seemed to choose to ignore when they left to go upstairs together, only throwing out a “be down for dinner love” at Billy.

Not even Steve’s family cared that little. And yet it was so clear that the O’Connors cared very much.

Billy was fed, clean and healthy. He was in sports, and while he didn’t seem softer exactly, there was a happiness to him that Steve had never really seen before. He’d even began to lose his American accent, vowels mellowing out when he spoke.

They lay under the covers of Billy’s bed, Billy complaining about no decent metal bands coming to an area as rural as this, and Steve reached out. Melted further in his boyfriend’s arms.

Billy huffed out a small laugh and kissed him.

“We’ll be alright Steve. I promise.”

Steve did his best to believe him but already felt like he was being forgotten.

@shieldofiron your daily angst

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #written on a very difficult day re POTS #but at least it’s written #cw antisemitism #angsty as fuck sorry guys #authors note that Billy is absolutely not forgetting him but Steve is overthinking #and they are happy in this universe #again author is Jewish as a just in case

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questionableratatouille00 · 4 months ago

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ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟ 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an effort to get the two of you to bond, Tony Stark sends you and the ex-assassin Bucky Barnes on a road trip together. The reason? You hate each other. The situation? Two weeks in a car together. The reward: three days of a resort vacation. And the problem? He's kinda cute.

Warnings (Entire Series): Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, crying, fighting, violence, chaos, mentions/talk of trauma, discussions of mental health, and potentially more.

Warnings: Reader buys a dress, cursing, mentions and eating of food, let me know if more needs to be added.

[Series Masterlist]

𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑴𝒆 𝑪𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚

The next morning, you’re back on the road once again. You’re in the passenger seat now, letting Bucky drive.

You snack on some granola bars that you’d packed, offering one to Bucky. He takes one, offering up a small ‘thanks’ in return.

Several hours later, you notice the small town slowly circling around the truck.

“Bucky. Can we stop?” You asked.

“We can make at least five more hours today.” His brows furrow.

“I haven’t pissed since yesterday. I’m gonna die.” You complained.

“There’s a gas station..30 minutes away. Can’t you wait?” He argues.

“No. Pull over.” You huffed. “Look! That diner right there. Debbie’s.* We can get lunch.”

“That’s gonna waste at least an hour. We don’t have time.” His grip tightens on the wheel.

“We’ve got like an extra two days! The drive isn’t that fucking far! Pull over before I piss my fucking pants, asshole!” You blow up at him. Tony intentionally planned it so that there was time for a little bit of dilly-dallying.

Begrudgingly, he turned into the diner parking lot. You zoomed out of the car and straight to the bathroom inside of the diner.

After taking care of your business, you met back up with Bucky in the line to the counter.

When it was your turn, you waited as Bucky ordered some burger before you ordered your own food.

Bucky reached for his wallet at the same time you reached for yours.

“I’ll get it,” you said.

“It’s fine. I’ve got it.” Bucky brushed you off. It made you..mad? He said it almost smugly, as if he was doing you such a favor.

“No, I’ll pay. I’ll do it.”

“I’m already doing it.” He snarked back.

You quickly tried to shove your card against the tappy-machine as Bucky scrambled to do the same. You engaged in a debit-card-sword-fight for several seconds before the lady behind the counter—an older woman, with short and thin gray hair and bright blue eyes, chuckled.

“You two make a mighty fine couple, I can tell.” Janet H. said, a fond smile on her face.

“We’re not together.” Bucky and you said sharply at the same time.

Distracted by this, you fumbled and Bucky won the war.

You walked towards a booth in the 50s-style diner, sliding into it and looking at the receipt. Order #157.

When the number was called by a slightly younger elderly woman, you took the initiative to walk back up to the counter.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the white bag.

“No problem. You here for the festival?” She asked, making small talk. Sharon C.

“Festival?” You echoed, curious.

“Yeah. The town’s got an annual Blast-from-the-Past festival thing. Always draws in plenty of tourists.” She slid a white half-sheet of paper with a little infographic on it.

“Thanks,” you murmured, looking down at it as you walked back to the booth.

If Bucky was curious about what the paper was, he didn’t voice it. You assumed that the Serum had probably boosted up his hearing, so maybe he already knew.

As Bucky unpacked the white, grease-stained paper bag of food, you scanned over the paper.

“Bucky. We should stay for this. This is pretty cool. It's like a 'this-town-through-the-decades' kind of thing. There's a 40's style dance thing tonight." You state, reading the first event listed. The festival is a week long, starting tonight, Monday, and ending on Sunday. “Look! Tomorrow is ‘30s-‘40s night. There’s a dance, and food, and all kinds of cool shit.” You grinned.

He stared at you like you had three—no, twelve—heads.

“We definitely don’t have time for that.” He grumbled as he munched on his burger.

“Bucky, we still have like, 5 or 6 days before we can even check into the resort thing. To get there is a 3-4 day drive. We’ve got plenty of time.”

As he shuffled awkwardly at the presentation of the facts, you could tell that time wasn’t the main reason he wanted to skip it.

“C’mon. Please.” You begged.

He stared at you, unsure.

You remained resilient.

“Fuck. Fine.” He broke, clearly unhappy about it.

“Yes!” You cheered. “I think we passed a store that was selling stuff for the festival. I’m sure they’ve got some themed outfits.” You raved.

“Okay. There’s the motel down the street, right? We could just get a room there.” He murmured. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“Why not? It’s just a little dance.” You huffed.

"We're both Avengers. We could be recognized."

"So? Either way, we're in a tiny ass town in the middle of nowhere. If we were recognized, it wouldn't even matter."

He looked down at his gloved left hand. He always wore thick jackets or long-sleeved shirts, paired with gloves.

"Nobody's gonna care." You reassured quietly. It was true that the two of you didn't get along very well, but you didn't think it was fair to make personal attacks. You knew his arm, and basically his entire past, really, were sensitive topics.

“Okay.” He conceded. “C’mon. Let’s go get hotel rooms.”

You lift your suitcase and backpack out of the backseat, before heading into the lobby. Bucky follows as you approach the receptionist.

She's an older lady, some sections of her hair gray, other sections a warm brown. Her eyes match the brown, and she smiles when she sees the two of you walk in.

"Hello. Welcome to the Brandon Briar Hotel. How may I help you two today?" She asked, looking up at the two of you. She has wrinkles by the corners of her eyes, and smile lines around her mouth. Her voice is warm, as is everything about her. A quick glance to her nametag revealed that her name is Barbara C.

"We'd like two rooms, please." You smiled politely.

"Alright, and how long will the two of you be staying, dear?"

"Just for tonight, if that's okay."

"Wonderful. Is it okay if it's a connecting room? The festival always brings in a lot of tourists." She smiled proudly.

"Really?” You ask, making small talk. You feel a pang of joyful spite as you see Bucky shift awkwardly next to you. Socializing is not something he’s known for.

"Yes, Brandon Briar has it every year. Here's a flyer, if you're thinking about attending." She slipped a brightly colored flyer over the counter, sliding it in front of you. The main colors, yellow, blue, and white, were eye-catching and pretty. This one was much more in-depth than the flyer the girl at the diner had given you.

"Now, is the connecting room okay, sweetheart?" She asked again, though there was not a single note of annoyance in her voice.

"Oh--yes. That will be perfect." You glanced back up at her, eyebrows raised subconsciously.

You pay quickly for both of the rooms before Bucky--who had been standing behind you silently--could fight you on it. Barbara hands you the two key cards, and you hand Bucky one. Taking the flyer with you, you give Barbara one final 'thank you' and a smile, before heading to the elevator.

Bucky presses the button for the 2nd floor, where your rooms are. You study the flyer.

"Neither of us have anything to wear to it." He tries to reason as the elevator door opens.

Walking down the hallway, you continue to argue with him. "I'm sure there's at least one store that sells stuff specifically for the festival. Barbara--the receptionist--said that the festival brings in a bunch of tourists, so they have to have something around here." You said optimistically as you both opened the doors to your hotel rooms.

It had been easy to find a store selling dresses made to look like they were from the 1940's. The Brandon Center, the little store that could only be found in Brandon Briar, had an overwhelming amount of them. You'd left Bucky to find whatever he needed, you instead opting to browse through all the pretty dresses. There was a large selection, filled with pretty prints and colors.

Bucky, perhaps ten minutes ago, had interrupted your browsing to tell you that he was going to wait in the car. You had simply nodded, quickly glancing at the bag he carried.

A stunning red dress caught your eye. It had a little belt to go around your waist, with 3/4 satin-cuffed sleeves and a matching satin heart-shaped collar.

Sure, there were other dresses in a similar color, but once you saw this one, there was no going back. You checked the tag, making sure that it would fit.

Grinning once you saw that it did, you took the hanger off the rack before looking through the jewelry stand. When you found nothing that fit your style, you sighed.

Walking to the register, and you were greeted by a woman, probably in her sixties. Her hair was dyed blonde, which looked good with her blue eyes. She wore black eyeliner all the way around her eye, with thick mascara to match. She grinned, a heavy country accent coming in thick when she spoke. Though you'd only spoken to a few locals, they all seemed to have the same accent.

"Hiya! Will this be all for you today?" She had a nametag on her floral blouse. Brenda.

Nodding, you reply. "Yes."

"Okay. Oh..this is a pretty thing. You plannin' on comin' out by the old diner for the dance tonight?" She laid the dress out on the counter, examining it.

"Yeah. It's..it's in that little square, right? I saw the string lights this morning when I was driving by, but I didn't really have time to look."

"Yes, yes. The decorations are always gorgeous. Wait a minute..oh, this is from Mr. Lee." She said, beginning to fold the dress. When she noticed your confused expression, she grinned.

"A while back, we had a guy donate a bunch of old dresses like this after his wife passed. His wife was friends with that lady Peggy Carter, funnily enough. Anyway, we kept a bunch of those dresses in the back for a few years. Some were altered, made bigger or smaller or even just turned into somethin’ brand new. Forgot all about them. Until now, that is."

You nodded, though the mention of Steve's almost-kind-of-basically girlfriend startled you. A younger girl, maybe a college student, stepped out from the door next to the register. The creaky wooden floor announced the presence of another customer, as did the bell on the door.

"Aunt Brenda, can you help Ms. Owens? She wanted to look at that green dress I told you about." The girl said. Her hair was brown and straight, going down to her waist.

"Oh, yes." Brenda turned back to you. "Stacy will ring you up." She explained, placing the folded dress into a white paper shopping bag.

She walked out from behind the counter, Stacy taking her place.

"Sorry about that." The girl—Stacy—apologized. "That'll be $23.99. Hero's discount."

When she glanced up to you, she smiled a little. "Don't worry. You blend in a lot. Most of the people here are older, and anyone who isn't is just a young couple coming here for the festival. My great aunt and my grandma live up here, so I stay here every summer to help with the store." She assured.

Once you paid, she waved you goodbye as you walked out of the shop. Bucky was waiting in the driver's seat of the truck, scrolling on his phone.

"Y'know it starts at 6:00, right?" He asked when he heard the truck door open.

"It's 3:15, we'll be fine." You rolled your eyes, buckling your seatbelt. You didn't say much on the drive to the hotel, instead thinking about what else you were going to wear.

Bucky stood inside of his hotel room, not sure what to do. You had decided to close your door to his room, and he decided to do the same. Just because your rooms were connected didn’t mean you would go into each other’s rooms. That was weird, right?

He showered quickly, before getting dressed. He felt stupid as he glanced at himself in the mirror. He knew how he was supposed to look, but none of this felt...right. He tied his hair into a low ponytail, just to keep it out of his face.

He opened his door to your room, just to be met with your door closed. He knew it was going to be closed. Of course it would be closed. There was no reason he should feel so...disappointed.

Disappointed? No. No. Bucky was sure of it. He barely tolerated you. You were annoying, and you liked starting fights for no reason. Ever since he’d arrived at the Avenger’s Compound, you were nothing but cold and nasty towards him. The first time he’d met you, you’d made an angry face at him before ignoring his existence.

But he couldn't deny the feeling of excitement he got when he saw your name light up on his phone.

Ready.

That was the entire text message. And somehow, a single word made his stomach feel light. Without typing a reply, he stepped into the hallway of the hotel, before he saw you.

A/n: my taglist doesn’t work for some reason??? I can’t tag more than a few people on a post before it just stops linking them. Let me know if it still tags you even without the link thing. Idk, it pisses me off sm. I hope this still gets the same reach??? 🧚

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @laughterafter @cjand10 @kandis-mom @emmsybucky@mrsnotfeelingsogood @matchat3a @identity2212 @ilovemcuff @unaxv @mysticalfuncollectorus @highwaytomichelle @lilbloggs @ordelixx @skiemi-blog @allieb913 @winterslove1917

note that this is the only series I’ll be doing a taglist for, but let me know in the comments if you’d like to join!

Reblog if you enjoyed!

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes series

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microtyalm13 · 1 year ago

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hehe.. hehehehhe... heheheheh. some info bout xiao

hey there. 👁👁 where yo clothes at

Xiaolong/Xiao. about 200 years old/full height: 440 cm (14,4 ft), usual height: about 210 cm (6,8 ft)/naga/bisexual.

somewhat-normally-explained-background: Xiao most likely came from some respected family which he was extremely fed up with for a long time. neglectful family, strange formal events, lack of any personal life, all of that... so he stole a bunch of money from his father and ran away. he was forced to travel with humans, which is how he began to feel interest towards them. after that, he stopped in a nice, quiet little town, deciding to settle down in a local inn for a while. xiao quickly made friends with the owner of the place, an elderly woman, and soon started working there. old woman passed away, and he inherited the inn from her, which he runs to this day. basically, he wanted a quiet, calm and free life, which he achieved, even though now he's known as a seducer (this is marketing and he is just a really good host i swear).

xiao is very calm and laid-back, it's impossible to get him to argue (only in a playful or friendly way;)). even though he has employees, he still prefers to greet guests himself. but when colder times approach, he can often be seen napping behind the counter. curled up in his tail, in a chair or leaning against the counter itself. he usually wakes up to approaching footsteps faster than he is awakened. he may seem kinda lazy and unserious at first glance, but he's kind, gentle and caring.

- owns an inn with hot springs in a small town. the building itself is quite old, but he keeps it in good condition; - has a lot of piercings. to be exact: two in the bottom lip, ring in a left wing of his nose, four in his left ear, three in his right ear, and nipples. unfortunately, he can't get dick piercings bs his genitals are not out and about all the time; - takes pride in his absolutely gorgeous hair. it's not very thick, but very silky and soft. most of the time it's braided, and ends a little below his butt; - his only piece of real gold jewelry is his left, gold-plated fang; - the tail is heavy and strong, belly is yellow, the rest is black with flecks of pink and light yellow. has an almost pearly shimmering to his scales... very pretty and smooth...; - somewhat cold-blooded, does not experience brumation. but he'll never refuse some extra warmth, he loves hugs and any physical contact in general! if it's fall or winter and you're sleeping in one bed, he will wrap you in with his tail and will not let you go until afternoon; - even though he doesn't hibernate, with the onset of spring, the mating season affects him... well, quite noticeably. usually he will take a week off and lock himself in his room, but if he has a lover at the moment, he will avoid them with all his strength. because the process is long, he has two dicks, and if you'll really agree to everything, you both will be in his room for at least three days. you need to store some food and water for yourself, dear, bc you're not leaving.

#microtya's kids #microtya: xiaolong #art #my art #artists on tumblr #traditional art #traditional artwork #traditional drawing #traditional sketch #sketch #monsterfucker #monster fucker #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster lover #teratophillia #naga x human

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sankta-alina-s · 4 months ago

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@starlsssankt

Alina considered the coins in her pocket as she looked upon the bolts of fabric. Marina seemed to be in need of new clothing faster than she could keep up with. These would last through the summer, yet another batch would be needed for the winter.

Each coin earned from taking in washing was saved for her daughter's upkeep. Alina's pregnancy with Marina had been fully unexpected- realized after she'd crossed the Fold weeks after the Winter Fete- yet she couldn't imagine her life without her daughter. The little girl hadn't shown any signs of being Grisha just yet, which allowed for the mother and daughter to remain in their West Ravkan home for a while longer. Alina knew it was only a matter of time however, what with the girl's lineage to speak of.

She parted with some of her coins in favor of a measure of blue calico and a brown cotton that she hoped would withstand the wear and tear of a four year old. Said four year old was not too interested with her mother's selections and was instead taken with the spools of ribbon on display at the next stall.

Alina paused her conversation with the elderly woman behind the counter at the gentle tugging of her daughter on her hand.

"Do you want a ribbon, malyshka?" she asked, supposing that another coin could be spared for the trifle. Ever since laying eyes on her daughter, red-faced and wriggling in her arms after being born, Alina strove to do whatever possible for her. If a ribbon for her hair would bring a smile to the little girl's face, then Alina would do so gladly.

She spoke with the woman about trivial town gossip for a few moments while Marina chose her ribbon. Alina eventually turned to the display, intending to hurry Marina along, when she noticed the lack of a four year old by the ribbons. Icy panic flooded her upon not spotting her daughter.

"Marina?!" she called, wildly scanning the area. She dropped the yards of fabric on the stall counter as her daughter's name once more formed on her lips.

Relief flooded her upon spotting Marina in the midst of an animated conversation a few stalls over, unknowing of her mother's panic. The momentary relief was quickly eclipsed by utter horror as Alina recognized who it was that was talking to her daughter.

Her breath came short and fast while her body temperature dropped. She'd been so careful to avoid notice or attention these past few years. This town knew her as Irina, while the last had called her Darya. Alina had even limited her use of the Small Science, just summoning enough light every few weeks to keep herself healthy.

How had this happened?

"Marina!" she called sharply as she darted toward her daughter. She grabbed the girl and hefted her into her arms, not carrying that her hands were no longer free if needed to summon, as having her daughter close was all that she could focus on.

For the first time in four years, Alina found herself meeting the eyes of the Darkling.

#r: like calls to like #starlsssankt #verse: tbd

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small-sinclair · 5 months ago

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Saint Daisy

A story based off a poll I did. The story takes place after a battle and and Gambit is part of the cleanup crew. Might make it into a series on here and on AO3! This is my first time writing for him, so be nice.

Requests for him are open.

Tw: Character death, blood, angst

The battle didn't last long in the little town. If anyone had to be honest with each other, it didn't seem to last more than an hour, but that doesn't mean that it didn't leave behind wreckage. Builds in the small street strip were either gone or had holes in them. The road had a creator in the center where Cyclops used his powers at full strength, making the traffic light hang on for dear life. Luckily, the library where children were hidden did not get touched. Storm and Wolverine put up that line and kept everything and anything away from that area. It was a team effort to keep people safe from this mutant, and they did the best they could to keep the town safe. The smell of burnt car metal and rubber filled the air along with the sounds of people working together to help each other out.

There is always unity whenever tragic things happen, and it's sad to see. There should be unity everywhere, no matter if they are mutant or not. There's a book Remy read somewhere, or a story someone told him, about how a sailor and the sea made a pack, a team, to get the sailor home to save his village from a flood. Someone told him that story, but he couldn't see their face anymore; just the voice remained. He wished he could remember that person and light a candle for them on All Saints Day in New Orleans. He would retell it every now and then, but he couldn't say who told him. They needed to be remembered...that's all he knows.

The X-Men were split into two teams: One medical and help, one clean-up. As much as Gambit wanted to be with the medical team, he knew he was needed with the clean-up. He helped move rubble up and blew a bus door open for the passengers to be free and get help. He checked his cards every now and then, knowing he would have to get another pack soon, but he would worry about that later. With a charged 7 of Clubs, he cut the bus driver's seat belt off and helped him out of the driver's seat, handing him off to a group of helpers. He was gentle with some as he moved them off the bus, helping them to the side and sorting them based off injury. Some hugged him tight, thanking him, while some shoved him off, grumbling something unpleasant as they limped away.

"Has anyone checked the seamstress shop?" An officer asked, helping an elderly woman towards the medical tent.

Gambit shook his head and answered, "No, Gambit'll check." His accent was thicker than normal today, rolling off his lips like a waterfall during a calm day. "Won't be long, promise."

The officer nods as he led the small group the library, leaving Gambit alone. The turns and began to make his way to the shop on the corner. The bricks were painted a dark forest green while the door was painted a sunflower yellow. The window was broken and the sign above the door was hanging by two screws and a wire. Even though this part of town wasn't affected by the battle, it still looked like it was part of a bomb blast by the way the window was blown in and glass scattered around the shop.

Gambit had to push his shoulder into the wooden door to get it open and walked carefully over the glass. His eyes flickered over each corner, looking for anything, then landed on the hole in the floor behind the counter. He felt an uneasy pit form in his stomach as he stood close to it and his chest tightened at the thought of looking down into the darkness. He took a deep breath as he looked forward towards a door. He didn't know what he was feeling scared or anxious; something didn't feel right.

The door opened easily for Gambit and the steps under his feet creaked under his boots. He held a card in his hand and held it up, charging it to make it glow a soft pink and red light.

"Hello?" He shouts into the darkness. "If ya need help, call out!"

He didn't like how silent the basement sounded, and he didn't like that the only somewhat light source was his playing card and the evening light from the hole from above. Gambit took a shaky breath as he walked over the stoned floor. As much as he wasn't to turn and leave, thinking there was no one, something screamed at him to stay and look by the rubble and dust. His steps were careful as he went to the pile under the hole from the floor above and felt his breath taken from his body.

Under the rubble was the back of a person, protecting something small underneath. Without think, Gambit moved the rubble, lifting the broken wood and shattered glass off the person. A large piece of wood, a beam, crushed their legs, but he was able to lift it off and toss it to the side. He looked back at the person and felt his heart ache as he saw her dark red hair and light pink dress being stained with blood. He could smell the iron and rich copper--even as he looked down at his boot, he felt sick as he stood in the woman's blood.

Kicking the glass and rubble aside, he knelt next to her. He took off his jacket and placed it over her then turned her over slowly until he was holding her in his arms. She was breathing, but it was shallow and too slow. She was going to be dead soon; all he can do is make her comfortable in the meantime. He couldn't count the times he held someone dying in his arms. He couldn't say the number that fell to his powers and how many lives he took before the X-Men, before he became a man.

But his heart began to break as the world began to cave. "Mon Dieu..."

His eyes widened as he saw the small child in her arms, a baby who looked no older than 10 days, laid silently breathing in her arms. His red on black eyes glowed in the darkness as his blood began to freeze then boil once more. He carefully held the mother close and rested his chin in her head, closing his eyes. He felt her flinching slightly, knowing that these would be her last moments, and it pained Gambit beyond words.

"Tout va bien, mon ami," he whispers, his voice cracking. "It'll be right."

"My-my daughter--"

"Shh, she sleeps fine," he answers, pulling his jacket around her tighter. "Her name, tell me."

The mother swallowed hard as tears threatened to fall. "Daisy," she whispered, holding her child closer. "I-I'm all she has."

He sits her up slightly so she could rest comfortably in his arms, her head on his shoulder and arm around her side. Gambit wanted to promise her the next sunrise, but that wasn't enough. That would never be enough. "Dat's a beautiful name, ma'am," he said, his voice soft enough. "She's jus' as pretty as you." He earned a gentle smile from her before she shuddered and tensed in pain. He held her closely, protecting her from the unseen, and closed his eyes.

"Daisy doesn't have anyone," she said, her voice beginning to fade. "She'll be alone."

Gambit shook his head as his eyes softens. "She'll live wit' me," he didn't what he was saying; he had no clue, "she'll want for nothin'."

Tears rolled down her cheek as her strength began to leave her. "...your name...?"

"Gam-- Remy," he said, seeing his red eyes reflect in hers. "Remy LeBeau." His hand slipped from her side and held her cheek. "An' you hav' my word she'll want nothin' from dis world, chérie. Gambit promises ya." He felt himself beginning to chock up as he watched her eyes grow dim and fade with the sunset. "Rest now, ma chérie. Ya did so much t'day...so much..."

She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh of relief, her light green eyes lulling to the side and closing for the last time. He felt her go limp in his arms, her warm blood burning into his skin, and felt a lump rising to his throat. He lowered his head and kissed her forehead, letting his tears stream down her cheek. You're never the same after seeing someone die, but you'll never recover whenever a mother dies with their child in their arms. A chocked sob escaped as he lowered his head, crying into her neck, and held her tighter. He felt as if he lost his own mother, his own family, all over again.

What path would he take after this will be a long one.

He takes a staggering breath as he lowers the mother gently to the ground. He'll bury her in his jacket; he can get a new one. With shaking hands, he reached down where the sleeping child was and lifted them carefully into his arms. The little girl was wrapped in cloth after cloth, blanket after blanket, as a shield from the glass and dust. His hand trembled as he held the little head closer to his chest, letting it be close to his heart. Gambit takes a shaky breath as his finger caressed the sleeping baby's cheek and let out a staggering breath as a quick cry escaped. He brought the child closer to him and cried in her blankets.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice low and strain. "I"m so sorry, cherie." Gambit felt as if something around him built up as he heard the baby coo then sleep in his arms once more. He looked down at her mother, speaking boldly and confidently, "I swear it--I promise I'll do everythin' so she could live a life worth yours." Something began to burn in his soul and it started to eat him alive. "I promise...I promise."

******************

Gambit felt like a fawn who just found their legs as he made his way back to the library. He tucked the baby close to him as each step felt like the rocks in his boots. His arms didn't grow tire as he carried the baby. His eyes would look down every now and then, whispering something low and Cajun. He thought about the person who read him that sailor and the ocean story, sparing a thought for them, and continue his walk. He tucked the little blanket closer over the child, his eyes watering once more. She wouldn't be alone in this world, Gambit promised and he's a man of his word.

He would give her the world that his own parents couldn't even think of doing. Remy's mind already made up a little fantasy of Daisy getting ready for a basketball game, ready to go with him with a bright smile on her face. He already thought about calling her "Spades", calling her as his own. The late nights doing homework, long drives through the swamp lands, the arguments and the door slams, the laughter and jokes--it's something he found himself craving. They type of normalcy he wanted ever since he was a boy. He saw others in the Gilde start families and settle, and that type of life style wasn't meant for him, not given. He's a mutant, a danger to some...he can't have this life.

But those thoughts faded as he heard her coo once more and yawn. He'll give it all, his powers and life, to make sure she finds the love his own family didn't even want to give him when he was born.

The first one who noticed his tired face and strained eyes was Rogue. Normally, he would call out to her and say something sweet, but he felt he would wake Daisy. He only offered a sad smile and soften eyes as she met him half-way.

He could see she was trying to form words to ask, but she closed when he nodded down at the babe in the pink and yellow blankets. She stayed silent as she looked down at Daisy then at Gambit.

"Mama died," he whispers, feeling the lump rise again. "Dis is Daisy...she ain't got anyone." He leaned into Rogue's yellow glove, closing his eyes, as tears began to fall again. "She was in so much pain, cherie. I couldn't save 'er. Gambit couldn't...he couldn't save her." He then looked down at Daisy then at Rogue. "I can't leave the belle behind."

"You sure, Remy?" Her voice was gentle as her touch. Everything about her look made him feel like he was breaking like ice under his boots. "She's just a baby--"

"I don't wanna abandoned her like my own did," he answers. "I gave my word. Ya know Gambit can't break 'is word."

"I know, but," there was a glimmer in her eyes that he wanted to capture like fireflies in a jar, "are you sure?"

He nods. "If there ain't family here, I'll take her." Gambit smiles down at the sleeping baby. "Besides, you always said you wanted a family. It's worth it, no? Starting wit' her?"

Rogue found herself smiling with him as her gloved hand brushed Daisy's forehead. "You're crazy."

"We're crazy, Mon Cherie."

"Does she have a name?"

"Daisy."

"Well," she met Gambit's eyes and said warmly, "I guess we should get the little thing checked out and go from there."

Gambit's eyes softened as he began to move, taking steps towards the library and the medical area. From then on, he knew his life would change, both his and the X-Men. Come hell or high water, nothing will go after Daisy. Even if he has to die as he hunts down that mutant that did this, he owes it to Daisy and her mother. In the rough draft of life and it starting all over again... he would gladly take the pen and write it again. If the professor tells him to give up the child, he would tell him to go to hell and fight him. This was his right and a way to give something his own blood couldn't.

"Gambit's gotcha," he whispers as they came closer to nurses and worried voices. "I'll always have you."

#gambit #gambit xmen #remy lebeau #Remy lebeau x rogue #Remy lebeau xmen #X-Men gambit #x men fanfic #x men fanfiction #rogue x gambit #xmen rogue #x men gambit #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

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knistelfitz · 2 years ago

Video

youtube

Elderly Woman Behind The Counter in a Small Town (Acoustic Cover) #short...

#youtube #shorts #elderly woman behind the counter in a small town #pearl jam #knistelfitz #acoustic cover #musicvideo #live

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personaei · 1 month ago

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ooc. HELP I MADE HIM A BABYGIRL

#elderly woman behind the counter in a small town | ( ooc )#I NEVER MEANT FOR THIS TO HAPPEN WHAT EVEN IS WITH THIS PSD

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tradingstorieswiththeleaves · 5 days ago

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Call me crazy, but I am a bit puzzled on the amount of jokes I read online about how Eddie is hard to understand. Because believe me when I say that I have always understood most of their songs without much trouble. And English is not my first language. I actually became a fan BECAUSE of their lyrics.

I even had no idea that he had this reputation for many years after becoming a fan (around 22 years ago) because I just listened to their music and didn't frequent any English speaking online communities back then.

Like, I can name you a bunch of singers I have a harder time understanding than him.

I can get people not understanding Yellow Ledbetter, because that song is unintelligible on purpose and he makes up the lyrics every time, or faster songs like Lukin, that are sung in a certain manner also on purpose, but those are just exceptions among 200 songs.

Like, are you seriously telling me that you listen to songs like Black, I am mine, Nothingman, Elderly woman behind the counter in a small town, Better Man, Immortality, Off he goes, Sirens, All or none, and many more, and you don't understand what he is saying? Seriously?

I don't know, just saying my thoughts and personal experience.

#pearl jam #eddie vedder #my musings #pearl jam lyrics

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silkythewriter · 2 years ago

Note

May I please request a one shot of Yan Macaque x Fem reader x Yan Red Son one shot where they are team up together to catch y/n either for escaping or just to capture them? (You can choose! I like the two scenarios so I can't decide sorry :') ) Thank you so much ☆

Yan!macaque x reader x Yan!Redson

꧁𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬꧂

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲: silkythewriter, formally known as weirdowithahat

𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐲/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: macaque picture: Jossy Rodriguez on Pinterest. Redson picture: unknown. Art produced by: Flying Bark Productions!

𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝/𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: sublieu

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: Simon Lucas

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: yanderes, Obsession, stalking, toxic relationship, OOC macaque, OOC redson. ALSO JUST WANNA SAY I LOVE ALL THE LMK REQUEST IM GETTING THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH IVE FOUND MY PEOPLE!!!!!

𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝:

Your hum’s filled the empty streets as you walked down the side walk not paying much attention to the closed buildings and some destroyed ones. Another demon attack fell on the city, clearly due to all the small chucks of buildings and trees and other such things covering main roads, blocking anyone from coming in or out the city. Usually on days like this you’d stay home but as luck has it you ran out of food and other needed supplies, you could only let out a bored and tired sigh as you stepped over what seemed to be the 100th branch covering the side walk. “Jeez, when are these cleaning crew getting here?” You asked yourself as your eyes scanned over the most mess parts of town. Finally after what seems like hours, you made it to the only open store, it was a bit rundown from the looks of it, you took note of the sketchy street it was located at before walking in, making the small bell on top the door ding alerting the old lady behind the counter. She gave a small but warm smile as she waved at you. You gave a small smile back before wondering the isles looking for the supplies you needed.

Once you put the last needed item into the small plastic basket you held, you made your way to the counter before carefully laying out the few things you picked out. “Will that be all?” The elderly woman said as she scanned your items and placed them into small plastic bags. You only nodded as you took out your wallet and paid as she handed you the bags. Once the exchange was done she waved you good bye as you headed out, you heard her voice in the distant warning you to not stay out late for to long, you could only chuckle and nod while doing the same before finally stepping out the store, with grocery’s in hand. “Sunsetting already huh?” You said with a small hum before walking off, a bit faster then last time due to the growing unease of the usually bustling streets now empty. By the time you made it to the second turn leading to your (whatever you choose to live in <3) the street lights already dimly lit the streets as the last bit of sun disappeared. You only held the grocery’s bags tightly in hands as you nervously speed walk down the streets, even if you were or weren’t powerful it was never a good idea to stay out this late especially with all the demons popping up randomly. You continued walking trying to avoid any allyways, but then a small rustle came from the small alleyway you were passing, you stopped in your tracks, before shaking your head in disapproval of going to check, and kept walking.

Silence once again took over as you could only hear crickets and owls making their usual noise. But something broke that silence very soon as two foots steps were heard behind you. A pit formed in your stomach as you quicken your pace, but so did the foot steps causing panic to set in. You quickly whipped around trying to get a good look at who ever was following you, yet nothing came into eyes view. You let out a shaky sigh, one you didn’t even know you were holding in as relief washed over you. You shrugged it off before whipping back around, only to see a smirking face, you let out shrilled scream as you jumped back in surprise. Oh how redson loved that face you made when you tariffed it never failed to send shivers of delight down his spine. He watched as you scrambled backwards trying to make some distance from you and him, to only back up against a hard but furry chest, making you confusedly turn around before seeing the six eared macaque. You let out a small squeak in surprise as you backed away from him, now cornered in against a wall as they both snickered at your shaking form “no need to be scared” macaque said in a teasing voice redson only chuckled along before crossing his arms with a smirk before speaking “I’m afraid you’ll be coming with us now” he said. You only dug your nails into the brick wall you were against as your mind raced with ways to escape from the two powerful demons, but your mind came blank, as one thing over took your senses. RUN, you mind shrilled at you, as you legs began to move by themselves. You quickly shoved both of them. Enough for you to squeeze by and run off you screamed for help, begging for help yet no one came to your cries. People only closed their windows tighter not willing to danger their lives by going outside. Your tears ran as you desperately banged at doors trying to get people to answer yet no one seemed to give mercy. You gave up on getting people to save you and opted to run, hopping you could book it to your place before they could catch up to you

Macaque hopped from building to building watching you like Pray, while redson stalked the allyways watching you desperately running. It was musing to see you like this, all scared and disparate when they haven’t even begun with the real fun. “My love, why are you running away?” Redson asked as he appeared in front of you after emerging from an ally way, and in the process startling you making you trip on a fallen stone from the clasped building you were running by. You groaned in pain as blood trickled from your forehead, and a stinging pain in your ankle. Macaque finally appeared behind redson and put his hand on his shoulder as they both took in your beautiful form. “Who even are you two!” You screamed out as pain coursed through you making you sob. They only looked at each other before back to you “why your lovers of course” redson answered as he walked towards you, making you desperately try getting up but failing miserably “I suggest you don’t fight it” macaque said with a smirk as he watched redson carrying you bridle style. You started pounding at his chest, making him only roll his eyes and hand you to macaque, he threw you over his shoulder as he began to speak “you have no idea how long we’ve waited for today” he said sighing happily “so much planning done just for you, now aren’t you a lucky thing?” He hummed as redson walked over and behind macaque to take a look at your face, he grabbed your face roughly as he made you face him “you look so lovely my dear” he said planting a kiss on your bleeding forehead “now lets get a move on you’ve already made enough of a disturbance tonight” he said as macaque began to summon his portal and walking in leaving redson to trail behind you with a pleased look on his face

Tap

The tapping of rain against a window became apparent. Making your eyes flutter open, white bright lights blinded you, making you slap your sore arm over your face, making the badge wrapped around your fore head brush against you skin. You grumbled slightly as your fingers light ran across it, making you confused are you in a hospital? You questioned in your mind as you sat up slowly looking around the room. No…no… this isn’t a hospital, the oak bed frame and to nicely decorated room said so, no hospital would look like this. You began to question yourself as you tried to think to what happened the night before. Your eyes widen in realization of the danger you might be in currently. This thought makes you scramble out the bed in hurry as you made you way over to the door and swinging it open, revealing a long hall way, you poked your head out the room and began to scan the area before you quietly made it down the hall only to bump into someone’s chest, not redson or macaque, no this was a robot, you could tell by its metal chest. It only gave you a pitiful look before grabbing your arm and dragging you along with it, you fought with all you had yet it didn’t seem to budge.

After it came to a halt in a big area covered in luxurious future ones you swore you’ve never seen. Out of the Conor of your eye you could spot redson bickering with the six eared demon, as macaque only rolled his eyes while chuckling. But he stopped once he spotted you, causing you to try to hind behind the bull robot but it quickly moved out of the way revealing you “well,well,well what angel fell from heaven?” Macaque laughed as he stood up and walked over to you, taking your hand and leading you to the velvety couch they both sat on, and forcing you down to take a seat between them. Macaque brought you to his chest, as he made your back lean on him while resting his chin on your head. By now you’ve given up at least for now, as you finally fully realized the little chance you had against the both of them. You needed a plan, but that would have to wait due to your weak and healing body from the day before.

Redson sensed your body becoming soft in macaque hold. Making him quirk an eyebrow “Giving up I see” he hummed in amusement before snatching you from macaque, making the demon scrawl at him. But redson payed no mind as he made you lay your head on his chest “you should continue to get some rest my dear, you have no chance of escape now. But it was fun while you had I suppose” he said laughing as he held you a bit tighter. You only mumbled in hearable words as your eyes grew heavy once more. Maybe getting up from that bed wasn’t the greatest idea, but oh well, you should already come to terms with your current situation

There is no chance getting alway from them is there?

ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★

AHHH TYSM FOR REQUESTING I LOVED WRITING THIS!!! <//3. Also redson is like my third favorite character in lmk outta swk and macaque SO I LOVED WRITING THIS!!!! Thank you guys so so so so so so much for letting me write for fandoms I love!!! EEEEE!!!! \(^ヮ^)/

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