#she's bad no good news lady that destroyed her own house n family and honestly?? good for her

[mercymaker]

ARTEMYRA WAYCREST ⬩ high half-elf ⬩ warlock ⬩ noble

[amindofstone]

when the heart speaks

a/n: Watching Naruto I always had a huge interest in Hatake Kakashi's character and story. He is such an amazing creation. He´s simply a masterpiece! His story is such a sad story I couldn´t help bad feel bad. I felt horrible and the fact that he never showed any of that pain and sorrow broke my heart. This man needs to be loved! Anyways, since I never wrote anything with any character of Naruto, although I love this anime to damn much (like to the moon and back), I thought I should start doing that with Kakashi being my first try. If it ends up being good and if some people end up liking it, I might also write for Naruto next to One Piece. Other than that happy reading!

Genre: anime imagine? Naruto imagine?

Character(s): Hatake Kakashi x Nami (reader)

Spoilder(s):mainly Naruto Shippuden Spoilers like about: the fourth ninja war, Obito being Tobi, the fight against Tobi, Kakashi becoming the Hokage

Warnings: Maybe grammar or spelling mistakes. (I genuinely apologize. English is not my mother tongue and I´m really trying to improve. So please be so kind and have mercy)

Words: 2605

Info: Keep in mind that the words in italic are Kakashi´s train of thoughts. And just so you know the reader in here is just a supportive character while for Kakashi it´s the main character. (Does that even make sense?! Never mind. Hopefully you get what I mean. This was supposed to sound beautiful... but well... never mind)

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. This took me a lot of time. So please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture used is not mine. Credits to: @Nebula517 (Twitter) !!!

A month flew by and the people of Konoha were living their lives as if nothing happened. They go to work, open their stores, spend time with their beloved ones and enjoy the gift called life.

A month passed since the fourth ninja war ended. The fourth war that cost so many lives. Lives of so many people that were dear to him. Lives of parents, friends, siblings, students and teachers. People he used to have around him. People he used to greet on a daily basis. People that used to greet him on a daily basis.

A month passed and Konoha is still busy trying to rebuild it´s broken homes and streets. A month passed and more parents let their children play outside. A month passed and slowly more people are seen happy and with smile upon their lips. Well, at least they tried to.

A lot of buildings, streets and homes were destroyed. People looked for shelter in the houses of their neighbors or tents the hokage provided. Some families were in a miserable state but still managed to smile and have a good time. No matter where one looked there were ninjas helping out here and there. Going from one mission to another to help rebuilding the village to its old beauty. The civilians suffered a lot but the shinobi were the ones that went through hell and back. One of those ninjas was the famous and well known jonin Hatake Kakashi.

He saw so many of his friends in pain. He saw people die and people scream in agony. He saw people stand back up after they saw their beloved ones die just to keep up with the fight in the name of peace. Peace, a word that described a world and a living of a existence that could only exist in a fantasy novel or a dream. It seems like Madara wasn´t wrong when he said that - The longer you live, the more you realize that reality is just made of pain, suffering and emptiness. -

“Thank you so much for helping us out. We will soon be able to stay in our own home again.”, said a little boy to the quiet man. Kakashi squatted down so he could look the little guy into his eyes. Something his father did when he was a child himself. “There is no need to thank me. I´m glad I could help. Now go and help your mother carrying the groceries. I´m sure she needs your help.”, the little guy nodded and bowed as a farewell and made his way towards his mother who was on her way to go shopping. Kakashi had an eye on the child until he was next to his mother before he stood up again to get back on his way to his new destination. His destination a place he visited already three times just today. With his newly appearance it would be the fourth time but he didn´t mind at all because that was his job after all. This is what he got trained for and lived for. Right?

No matter where one looked of went in the village. There were ninjas everywhere. Going to on mission to another or fulfilling a mission at good as they could. Missions that were all about helping the civilians or helping rebuilding the villiage to its old beauty and peace.

With hands in his pockets he made his way back to the office of Lady Tsunade not caring at all if he came late. A trait he developed years ago. But he didn´t mind at all because he didn´t care what people thought of him and his bad habit. He didn´t care a bit. He didn´t and never will. He didn´t, right?

After a pleasant walk the young man knocked at the door of the hokages office right after a tired sigh left him. A soft come in could be heard before he stepped inside. “You wanted to talk?”, said the jonin and closed the door behind him. The blond woman nodded and leaned back in her chair. She was nervous and Kakashi could see that. She bit on her lower lip and sighed before she cleared her throat. “Kakashi. I know that the past circumstances left you in a state of confusion, sadness and pain. And I surely am sorry for everything that happened to you but I hope that you know that the life of a shinobi is exactly that. Saying this is actually absurd because it’s something you already know and can understand the best out of all the others. I am aware of you many losses and the pain you went through in the cause of your life for the sake of our village. You did a lot for Konoha but also the world. Me and every other person alive appreciate that and thank you for everything you have every done and will be doing in the future. You are indeed and great shinobi.”, visibly confused over the words of the woman in front of him his head slightly tilted. “Tsunade what are you implying on? I´m sure you didn´t call me over just to praise me so I´m honestly kind of confused.”, the Hokage smiled at him and nodded. “You´re right. I didn´t called you over just for the praise when I already know that you´re not the type of a person that likes being praised openly over his work and duties. To put it short I´d like you to know that I told the elders about my decision of retirement as the hokage. But next to that I also suggested you to be the next hokage.”

Silence.

The man was surprised. How could someone like him become the hokge? “Who else is suggested beside me?”, wondered Kakashi although he knew who that might be. But he needed to hear it from her. “Naruto.”, hearing his name put a smile on his lips “I´m glad that he was suggested.”, but the mere thought of Naruto as the hokage sadden him for some reason. “I´m really glad that he was suggested but don´t you think that he is too young for that? I mean I´m not saying that he isn´t capable of taking the position, because he indeed is and always proved that. It´s just that he´s just 17 and should be allowed to live. He´s just a child on who´s fate was put a huge amount of burden.”, he added to emphasize his thoughts about her decision. “And this is why I want you to be hokage. You are the only one who is strong and intelligent enough to take this position and lead the villiag.”, a short chuckle could be heard from the man before he put both of his hands back into his pockets. “Intelligence? Really? Talking about intelligence I think Nara Shikamaru would be a better choice. Don´t you think?”, “And this is why I ordered him to be your chief aide and he agreed. So what do you think? If they choose you would you accept the position?”, with a hesitate nod he agreed and caused Tsunade to smile in relief. “Thank you. I´m sure you will do a great job.”

With slow steps he walked out of the office and the building when his attention was drawn to the now pinkish sky above him. The color of the sky that told him that another day of his life was slowly coming to an end made his heart ache. The thought of him being able to life when others who deserved it more couldn´t, always managed to get him fall back into the sadness that lay in his heart. Where do I go know? Right, I need to go to the grocery store. On his way to buy what he wrote down this morning he walked past a flower shop with his gaze falling on white roses. His eyes were fixed on the bouquet of flowers until the owner approached him and asked if she could help. He was quite and actually didn´t knew why he starred at them but he ended up buying them. With an empty head but a heavy heart he let his body lead him, not realizing that after a walk of 20 minutes he ended up standing in front of the grave of his friend. Obito. He didn´t knew what to do. He didn´t knew what neither to do nor to say, so he simply stood there waiting for his mind to make something up. But absolutely nothing happened until his heart spoke up. “I´ll be hokage Obito. This is what you wanted to be right? I remember hearing you say this over and over again every day. But never did Sensei Minato or Rin get sick of it. Honestly I also had cero problems hearing that. I can´t remember what I thought in those moments but one thing´s for sure. Sensei liked it and it always managed to make him smile.”

Kakashi sat down while carefully placing some of the flowers on his grave. “I used to come and see you not knowing that you were alive. I used to come and talk to you sometimes without knowing that you were alive and I could have been able to see and talk to you in person. But even if I knew that you were alive I don´t think I would have been able to face you. I messed up in so many aspects. I can´t help but see me as the reason on why it came to a war.”, while sitting in front of Obitos grave the jonins head hang low. He might be sitting just in front of a grave but somehow he does not have the courage to look up. He was ashamed. “I´m sorry for breaking the promise. I´m sorry for being a horrible friend to you Obito. I messed up miserably. Those minutes in front of you, with you were everything but pleasant since I had to fight what I called a friend all my life. But still I am happy that I could see you. I wish it would have been on different circumstances but life and fate always hated me so I´m not expecting anything else than pain.”, with every word leaving his lips slowly and bit by bit tears filled his eyes he did not allow to fall. “I´m sorry I couldn’t be the friend you or Rin deserved but I promise that I will be exactly that friend you wanted to the whole village. I will be leading the villiage with the love and attitude you had when we were one.”, with tears that threatened to fall he stood up again and cleared his throat. “Thank you for the live lesson Uchia Obito. I´ll never forget it.”

With the remaining white roses he made his way to Rins grave and placed it neatly on top of it. “Thank you for always trying to keep us together. Please make sure to take care of Obito. He deserves to be happy and loved. And… Rin… I´m sorry… I´m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I´m sorry.”, with heavy steps and an aching heart he walked down to another grave. A grave he once used to avoid but by now found peace in. “Seems like my legs lead me to you and the others like so many other days, father. I wonder when the time will come in which I won´t be approaching any of you with sorrow and sadness. Althought I wish this day to come soon I know that it will never happen.”

Kakashis vision was blurry. He wanted to cry but didn´t shed any tears. He stopped himself from doing so and tried his best to hold them back. With his last prayers he left the graveyard behind and took care of his groceries. He had no energy to cook but he also was not in the mood to go eat out and get confronted with any person. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to be left alone because he wanted to and not because he was used to the silence in his life. Again bit by bit sorrow took over his mind and heart. Again he was drowning in pain and memories. Again he was left alone with his never ending pain. A wave of darkness overcame him making him wonder how he ended up like that again. He didn´t greeted the employee at the store or waved back when someone called or greeted him. With a low hanging head he walked back home, while a comforting warm rain fell upon Konoha.

He was standing in front of his apartment he recently moved in. With one hand holding the bag with the groceries he took out his keys with the other one. A scattered mind and a broken soul accompanied him when he entered his apartment. “Kakashi? Are you alright? I was worried? Oh no you’re wet to the bone! Give me the bags and go change. You´ll get sick otherwise and we can´t have that.”

What was going on? He was confused and his mind went blank. A woman with long black hair and chocolate brown eyes came approaching him when reality hit him. “Kashi is everything fine? Did something happen?”, the woman placed the bags on the kitchen counter and looked at him out of worried eyes. She took of her black glasses and took the confused man’s hand to lead him to the bedroom. She let go of his hand again and went to close the window that let in the cold wind. She fixed the curtains and went back to face the silver haired man who still wasn´t moving an inch. She smiled upon his behavior and slowly took off his headband, his vest and his gloves. “It´s okay if you don´t wanna talk about please don´t forget that I am here when you need me. I won´t judge, just please talk to me whenever you fell like it. I love you after all.”

I love you, she said? I love you. How could I let the darkness take the lead again? How could I? “May I take of your mask?”, Kakashi nodded and still did not say a thing or moved. “Now please do the both of us the favor and take a shower. I´ll get you your clothes and make us some dinner. Alright?”

She smiled up at him and let go of him to do what she said when two strong arms held her back. “Huh?”, he pulled her against his chest only to take her face in hands and place a loving but rough kiss on her lips. A soft whine could be heard and a few tears rolled down his cheeks. Tears he held back and tried to not let them show any of his feelings. But for how long was he supposed to do that? Nami broke the kiss. She was worried since her lover never behaved like that. “No, please. Don´t go, stay.”, his eyes were closed and his hands were shaking when he placed his lips upon hers again. She let him be and said nothing. Nami closed her eyes and placed her hands on his chest and allowed him to do what he pleased, not caring that his wet clothes might wet hers too. She let him do what he wanted as long as he was happy. As long as she could help him get rid of the sorrow and pain in him. As long as she had him by her side.

[hecohansen31]

Romance Dreaming:

Captain Francis O’Malley/Duncan Shepherd+Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

So, not long ago, in our Discord group we had a rather interesting conversation on put an awful moustache onto Duncan which @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern immediately complied, creating Francis O’Malley, a rather lonesome cowboy with a love for the countryside and a southern accent.

And then… I just had to put this in some kind of lousy romantic plot, because it is just how I am done, I am sorry… but I hope that it could at least steal a laugh from you!

Have a nice day!

SUMMARY: When you met on your road, in a rather compomising situation, Captain O’Malley, you are put up in front of a rather interesting deal.

WORDS: 12,6K

WARNINGS: Mentions of Abusive Household, Mentions of War And Death, HIGHLY HYSTORICALLY INACCURATE (I am sorry guys I just had a lot of things to think about, tonight, so I am sorry, if this doesn’t make sense, but I just felt like the post-civil war would have been a nice setting), Slutshaming, Marriage, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Mentions of Sexual Themes.

Francis had chosen many times the wrong side.

At the start of the war he had been a confederate, not because he had particularly believed in their cause, but because he had been brought up in that area, and it had been rather difficult to choose any other view.

Even more when your parents had controlled your Fate.

He hadn’t approved many of their choices, but he had been in too deep to get himself away.

War and leading armies was something he was good at, alongside riding his horse, and he wasn’t able to do more anything else, since everybody seemed to think he was the epitome of the perfect cavalry captain of the South, with his perfect light eyes and his strong legs.

So, he hadn’t chosen much of his life.

Except for Roweena.

Roweena and him had met when he had been asked to escort her and her father through a business trip, with his unity and he had been truly amazed by the beauty of such a creature, narrow waist and acute eyes, which played with his emotions.

He had wanted to marry her from the moment he had first seen her, but there was some distance between them, as in between their social status, and his father hadn’t approved.

Hence Francis had thought that, since he had already Roweena’s heart as she wrote to him, he just had to focus on becoming the best cavalry captain so that he could convince Roweena’s father to give her away to a war hero, and they would retire in a sweet country mansion where he could train horses and live the rest of his days in peace.

War had hunted him when he was finally alone, in his tent: the thought of how many fellow soldiers he had lost in that horrible and murderous plot made him feel empty and missing something.

Something he was hoping to find in Roweena, in her sweet eyes and comforting hands.

But then the tides of the war had turned and the North had started slowly winning each battle, gaining more confidence as they went and in the end they had completely destroyed their opponents.

The war had finished in a bittersweet end for Francis.

He was to be executed as many other captains, but a general of the North had noticed him and had suggested that instead of being hang with everyone else of his comrades he betrayed them and came to the North, because they could use someone with his abilities.

He knew that it had been a rather coward decision, but he couldn’t help but choose his life, that one time where he had finally been able to choose.

He hadn’t ever cared for the Confederation’s barbaric rules and now he was breaking them to save his life.

Still each night he woke up with of his friends calling him a coward.

The city in which he had been sent as his first appointment was nothing more than a shithole, completely destroyed by the horrible disasters that Lady War had brought with her and there wasn’t much control to do, after Francis had been appointed constable.

He knew it was some sort of punishment and degradation for having a past in the confederation but each day he woke up wanting to do nothing and feel nothing, he remembered he was alive and that was all it mattered.

He had to live on for those who hadn’t had a chance.

Also, the thought of Roweena kept him going.

Her father had sadly died in the war and she had had to rush to an aunt in the North, according to her latest letters.

She had lost anything she had owned and the only thing that kept her going was Francis.

The thought of their arms joined together in a last hug when they had run away from her annoying chaperone, that same hug that tasted so bittersweet for Francis, each time he remembered about it, was what kept his hopes up.

She hadn’t left her new address and Francis hadn’t been able to contact her, but he had also thought that he couldn’t just show up to her door to bring her to the shithole he worked in: he had to give her something better and he was working on it.

With the little money that he had managed to hide, he was trying to build a new house at the outskirt of the city, hoping it would his and Roweena’s love nest.

One day, he would wake up and all the ghosts would be away, and he would have Roweena by his side.

He was imagining all this, meanwhile he was patrolling with a few friends, when he heard a merchant screaming ‘thief! Thief!’ indicating a running boy, who was zigzagging through the crowd in an almost desperate run, almost making it…

… hadn’t it been for Francis on his horse, who was completely able to avoid the confused mob, using a shortcut, crossing his paths with his thief, just as he was a few miles from being safe and sound.

The little thief knocked himself out against the side of Francis’ horse, who neighed furiously and Francis had to give him a few good caressed to calm it down, meanwhile he reigned it to circle the thief, who was knocked on the ground, too scared by the horse to even try a movement, meanwhile the little bag with money was knocked on the ground, open.

“What do we have here, Charles?” he asked at the horse, eyeing gravely the little thief: the crime scene had increased due to the poverty of the area and the world, but this didn’t make it less excusable “… a little thief… who can’t do his job”.

“Please sir…” the thief’s voice sounded strangely high-pitched and a little hood was covering his face, meanwhile he went on his knees begging the captain “… I honestly… my family is going to starve and nobody is willing to hire me…”.

“You can stop all this silly talk, you should know better than to rob someone of their legitimate money!” he shouted back and something sparkled in the thief’s eyes, suddenly not so scared of the horse, raising on his feet.

“Oh, you think that I was stealing somebody’s ‘legitimate money’?! That merchant is profiting on poor people’s lives, he isn’t less a criminal than me! He is a thief exactly like me… but since he dresses in rich fabrics and doesn’t look starved, you won’t persecute him!”.

The thief’s angry rant made Francis almost fall back from his horse: he knew that what he spoke was true, since many merchants had started taking advantage of the poorness that the war had left, but the thief had still broken the law and he couldn’t go unpunished.

And then a little breezed blew onto them, and the thief’s hoodie fell down his shoulder… or better her shoulder, since the thief revealed to be a girl, a little younger than him, with obvious sign of starvation on her face, but there was some kind of determination that graced her features that made her… truly wonderful at Francis’ eyes.

He was dumbfounded enough and when the thief tried to escape him, due to his distraction, he almost lost her, but Charles was smarter than his owner and quickly captured her again, and this time Francis dismantled from him, so that they could have a conversation eye-to-eye .

She was definitely young and the fact that she was a girl made Francis want to be lenient with the punishment since she was obviously not doing this because she liked it: if it was true that she had a family, she must have been truly desperate to try out this road.

He wondered what he would have felt, had his Roweena been the one that had to steal to provide for her family.

She wouldn’t do it with any sort of evilness to it, it was necessity that brought her on the bad side of the road and although Francis had to obey to the law, he could bend it a bit.

“What’s your name?” the girl refused to reply and he forced her to raise her chin to him, meeting a pair of beautiful eyes, shining of some kind of rage that seemed to keep that body up, burning into Francis’ mind “… and don’t tell me a fake one or I’ll throw you in the darkest jail cells we own, got me?”.

“…(Y/N), sir” the name came out as a soft whimper, as if it pained her to reveal an identity she had almost forgotten “… please don’t put me in jail, captain! I’ll return the money and apologize! I can’t go to jail, my mother would be heartbroken!”.

“You won’t” although he wanted to toy with her a bit more, mostly so that she would learn her lesson, he saw a deep pain in her, a scar that brought him to think of his own “… but you have to promise me you won’t do it again, (Y/N), got me?”.

Her head came free from his grip and this time you refused to look at his eyes, clearly not wanting to swear something that she felt like she would do again, and rather soon according to what her eyes spoke of.

“… you know that you can’t survive like this, don’t you?” he asked, surely concerned that such a beautiful girl could reduce herself to this.

Had the thieving also been unfruitful would she have turned to something even worse?

His heart honestly couldn’t stand it.

“My father died in the war, sir, and my mother has other five children, two of which are rather young! My older brother is a drunkard and won’t help us, so me and my other two sisters try to make some money helping mom with embroidery and cultivating our little vegetable garden… but it isn’t ever enough… the youngest are always hungry and my brother… he steals us money!”.

This was a rather common tragedy: many families lost their only source of income and many of the members turned to alcohol, letting others starve.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity for her.

“I won’t hurt you or rattle you out, but if you promise that you aren’t going to steal anything, anymore, I might have a job proposal for you”.

Her nose immediately scrunched up and he realized that the way he had worded the entire thing was horrible and definitely implying something that he hadn’t wanted to, blushing and regretting his words, immediately.

“… I didn’t mean anything like that!” he put his hands up to try to make her relax and see that he didn’t mean anything dirty, behind his words “…I mean an honest job: I have recently started living here and the chaotic life and work has left my house rather… unclean…”.

“You are asking somebody who just stole money… to clean your house?”.

The absurdity of the entire situation made him laugh and she smirked, this time definitely more genuinely.

“You must be truly new in town”.

Francis was rather thankful for his chaotic meeting with (Y/N),

She was amazing with cleaning the house, but that wasn’t her only talent: she was extremely educated for the third daughter of a farmer, justifying her knowledge as the passion that her grandma, a fallen noblewoman who had fell in love with a farmer, had passed down to her.

She knew literature and was passionate about it, which had made her feel wonder at Francis’ small collection of books and, before she had to steal any of them, he had welcomed her to take what he needed, almost as a little library of his.

They would then discuss about it, once she was taking a break from cleaning, Francis insisting she did so, since she worked hard and more times than not, she had overworked herself and he had had to accompany her with Charles back home.

She would always make him stop a bit before he actually reached the proper place.

He knew it was both because she was ashamed of him seeing her modest home, and both because she didn’t want her brother to know of her employment: he would steal her money and use them for booze, hence she always hid her money in her garter belt, knowing he wouldn’t search her there.

Some days, she would come in work, a black eye and a tremble in her hands, she would scrub the floor with such a ferocity that Francis many times had to interrupt her, before she hurt herself and more times than not he had let the girl use his bathroom, just to hear her sob lightly.

It hurt him to know that she had to go through something like that, each time she went back home.

Wouldn’t it have tarnished her good name and his, he would have insisted that she sometimes stopped in his city house so that she could avoid that horrible life.

‘Have you ever thought about running away?’ he had asked once, meanwhile she chatted about the latest books she had managed to get her hands onto, a new one even for Francis, since he had started to buy new books just for her, she loved the ones with fantasy in it and the right atmosphere.

‘More days than not I catch myself thinking about it…’ her confession surprised him: he hadn’t expected that to happen, although she lived in that horrid place, she had never mentioned to him running away ‘… I once even did my luggage and… then… I never know what to do’.

He kind of expected it.

She didn’t have any money and family, although abusive as that one, was still family.

He knew all too well.

‘And what about you, mysterious cowboy?’ she joked, meanwhile she turned to him, pushing the soap in the water, and then immerging the rag in it to clean the floor of the main room, a little but familiar place she had grown to love ‘… don’t you want to run away?’.

‘In the countryside’ he started and gently he relaxed himself, thinking about his life, a calm life in a nice place, where he could live happily surrounded by horses, the nature and his beloved… Roweena…

… Roweena!

He hadn’t thought about her in months, and that morning he had been brightened by a letter of an old friend of his, who had also joined the North side and he had sent him a letter about having seen Roweena at a ball and having talked about her, knowing she would attend a ball not too away from his shithole of a city.

‘All alone?’ she asked, with a malicious smile on her lips, having caught his enamored glance.

‘I might have the perfect girl for that life’.

‘She is a lucky girl, Mr. O’Malley, then’ she had giggled making him blush ‘… I mean… you helped a thief so I truly believe that you have a big heart and she must beyond lucky’.

Did her gaze hide something more?

Francis couldn’t help but think that there was different spark in her eyes, a more intense spark.

But he wasn’t able to think more about it, because as her gaze had set up on him, it immediately left him going back to her chores.

Through the weeks that separated him with his meeting with Roweena, to relax his brain he had taught (Y/N) how to ride with Charles, not much since he couldn’t due to the lacking space and the fact that they couldn’t spend more time together, mostly after one of her littlest sibling had caught a cold and she had to help her mother with him.

But she was a natural.

Whenever she would ride Charles, the horse would grow quiet under her, even quieter than when the horse was under him, making him call it a  “traitor”, although he had fun with the beautiful way she would laugh as the stallion would accelerate under her.

And then the day came.

She had come to his house that morning and she had helped him get ready, since he trusted her more than his usual suggestions as a male.

‘Oh but if it was for me, that awful moustache of yours would be off’ she mumbled immediately, but didn’t erase his mark, meanwhile she helped him slicking his hair and adjusting his elegant suit, a thing which would have been full of medals, but he had lost each one of them as he had moved in the North.

But from the long look she reserved for him, he knew that he hadn’t lost his charm,

‘She is a lucky woman indeed’.

‘Tonight, stay here’ he insisted as he was leaving, the previous day her brother had gotten rather upset because the smaller ones of her sibling wouldn’t stop crying, and both her sister were outside working their embroidery as some old lady’s house, so she was the one he had pushed his anger onto.

When she had come that morning knocking softly at his door, a bit earlier, he hadn’t been able not to notice that she was stumbling a bit, limping lightly and when her gown, a soft cotton thing, had raised up lightly he had seen an horrible hematoma on her ankle, which she had immediately covered as she had caught him looking at her.

‘I can’t… the town would talk…’ she blushed so graciously that Francis couldn’t help but be in awe, remaining a bit more on the threshold of the door.

‘Just stay here, I feel better knowing that you going to stay here, your brother wouldn’t notice it and you sisters can cover on you!’ he insisted, gently grabbing one of her hands to make her relax, which she did with a soft whimper ‘… you can stay here till the hour you usually go back in the city, and then take a shortcut, so that people will simply think that you have finished your turn of the day’

‘That is too nice, I can’t…’.

‘Make me go with one less worry, (Y/N), it’ll make my uneasy heart feel better’

And she had eventually complied, promising to take care of his small house.

‘Good luck, cowboy’ she had mumbled, smirking before he walked in the chariot ‘… and if it doesn’t work… we’ll know that it was all the moustache fault’.

He couldn’t help but smirk to himself at those words, in the chariot, the conversation he had had with her definitely helped to ease his anxiety.

The entire place where the event was to happen was extremely elegant and rich and Francis couldn’t help but feel at unease, definitely different from all the people that were dancing around the ballroom, meanwhile he stayed close to the angle with the alcoholics.

“Still a fan of scotch?” mumbled James, his old friend, the one who had informed him about Roweena, being the only welcoming face in the crowd, sitting himself beside him, being welcomed with a huge pat and an affirmative answer, which made the waiter pour them two glasses of scotch.

“… didn’t think that you liked these kind of things…?” he mumbled surprised to find his roughish comrade in such a beautiful and delicate place.

“I still don’t like them, but it is better to be seen in these kind of things… it helps” and he not only eyed the expensive bottles, but also the way new leaders and captains moved around the crowd, although many of them were young, he could still see many converted ex-South loyalists.

“… well then let’s hope this might be a good night for both of us” smirked Francis, moving to clink their glasses together, but James didn’t look convinced and mumbled.

“You need to know one thing before…”.

But his voice was interrupted by an announcement of something and soon Roweena was descending the elegant stairs in the center of the ballroom, but she wasn’t alone.

A man was on her side, holding her gloved hand and softly leading her through the light, till they reached the level of the ballroom and Francis’ ears were finally able to focus onto what the announcement was.

“To Roweena and David, the most beautiful couple in this room!”.

“She announced her engagement a week ago, she is going to marry some idiot from the North, the important thing is that he has money and influence, her aunt organized anything: she is pretty and he is rich, her lifestyle will continue on living…”.

Francis was taken aback by all the cynicism his friend spoke and immediately turned to him, as a bull who had just seen red.

“… how can you speak about my beloved like that?” the anger shone in his face, meanwhile annoyance appeared on his friend’s face.

“Wake up, Francis! I tolerated that… awful…shrew for your love, but I hoped it was this which made you realize who Roweena truly is…”.

“She must have been forced in this!” he shot back, not caring that they were attracting glares “… she promised me…”.

“… and any men who even looked at her!”.

The shameful words his friend spoke only angered him more, but as a proper gentleman he just decided to move away, so that his friend could reflect on his hurting words.

He had moved away, a bit and when he came back, he had lost sight of James, but Roweena had been left sadly alone, a perfect opportunity for him to take to finally talk with her.

Reassure her that his feelings for her hadn’t changed and that he was more than ready to run away with her.

She had seemed surprised to see him, but she had quickly welcomed him in a rather informal hug, immediately attracting the wondering eyes of many people around her, which sent him rather unpleasant looks.

But he was in Heaven in her arms.

Although he had to admit that he couldn’t help but feel a bit horrified by all the things around him.

“… oh Francis! I didn’t know you were going to be here!” although his arms had been welcoming, her voice held some kind of sick sweetness that honestly that was suddenly out of tune with the image he had of her “… you made me the most beautiful surprise!”.

“I just couldn’t be separated from you, Rowie” Francis tried to spark again that beautiful relationship that had blossomed between you two “… you look even more beautiful”.

And she did, but Francis couldn’t help but feel like there was some kind of fake edge to her, which ruined her usual candor.

“What are you doing, right now? I thought that the North wouldn’t forgive you”

“They did, once they saw me on a horse” he tried to joke, but all around him the faces were long and before he knew it, Roweena suggested that he accompanied her to have a little breather, outside.

And as he moved outside, she immediately lighted a little cigar, something that Francis couldn’t helo but classify as not very elegant in a lady, but he didn’t stop her, just shielding himself a bit, meanwhile he gently covered her lithe shoulders with his coat.

“… you truly surprised me, Francis” her voice now empty of any ringing sweetness, was dark and rough: it surprised him, indeed “… I didn’t expect you to be this resistant”.

“What do you mean Roweena?” he mumbled surprised, immediately throwing himself to her, gently collecting her small hands in his bigger ones “… I thought we had promised to wait for each other”.

And surprisingly, after his heartfelt discourse, Roweena laughed in his face and before he knew it.

She blew smoke in his face, an illusion as her pretty face and the manners she had shown him.

“You think that promises make the world goes around, Francis?” she smirked, meanwhile he pushed herself closer to him “… because I know for sure that it is money that makes it go around, and I want to be the one spinning it, if you know what I mean”.

All his memories of what Roweena had been shattered by that presumptuous woman, which looked at him like a little insect meant to be squashed by her heels.

“What about our countryside life? I can still give you that!” he didn’t know what he could say more to make her reason, go back to when she had loved him and promised to do so till eternity “… I have started building a small house… in the countryside… it is a small life but…”.

“I don’t want a small life, Francis, I never wanted it” she spoke with such a slowness that every words took a hit in Francis’ chest “… I only said what you wanted to hear, it works that way with men”.

And as she had walked in in a whirlwind of ribbons and crinolines, she walked out of Duncan’s heart and life, leaving him dumbfounded and with an aching heart.

He didn’t know how he had managed to finally come back from the entire failure, since he had then, without even questioning, drunk himself stupid, emptying two bottles of scotch, till his body begged him to shut down and lay down.

It had been Charles who had brought back home, and he had risked many times to fall but once he had arrived home, the heaviest part of the entire thing was to drag himself through the door.

Which he did, longing for his bed, but when he finally managed to fall onto it he found out it wasn’t empty, but a warm body was laying against it, soft and definitely feminine and although it made no sense, his body, in his drunken state, reached around for it, curling against it, feeling comforted by the welcoming way she relaxed against him.

A whimpered breath leaving her lips, a heavenly lullaby that, alongside her even breath, lulled him to a peaceful sleep.

He woke up the following morning because the body he had curled against the previous night started moving, away from him and, more out of subconscious conscience than actually wanting to keep her close, he brought her back onto him, cuddling to the warmth, till a whimper of pain surprised him.

And he realized to whom the body belonged.

(Y/N) looked at him, as he opened his eyes, the thin nightgown she had chosen definitely more form fitting than the usual clothes she wore, and her hair down from her usual updo, gently gracing and cornering her face in a beautiful frame.

She was honestly beautiful, any detail highlighted by the shy light of the morning and her body appearing extremely delicious, hidden in simply cotton.

“… Mr. O’Malley, what…? I thought…?” and then shame set in her, her cheeks flushing red “…I fell asleep waiting for you, sorry for sleeping in your bed, I’ll immediately change the sheets…”.

“There is no need for it” he couldn’t help but feel ashamed by himself, he shouldn’t have drunk so much, mostly because, although nothing had happened and they had both their clothes on (although that nightgown was oddly revealing and doing things in his mind), it was highly scandalous to sleep with any woman that wasn’t your wife, before marriage “… I don’t think that I am actually able to leave this bed, right now… I am feeling pretty… unwell…”.

“Then I’ll go and fix you breakfast!” anything to get herself away from him, this is what Francis saw in her eyes, embarrassment shading anything else “… so that you can lay down and collect yourself”.

And she had strutted away, almost tripping in her own feet, due to the quickness of her movements, just to get away from him.

It would have been almost funny, hadn’t he felt like his head was going to explode.

Left alone, he had to finally reason with the revelation that his plan for the perfect life with Roweena was now impossible.

The rejection hurt him, but what made him feel truly empty again was the thought that any solution he had thought for all his problems, the emptiness due to the loss of war, the sense of guilt for having passed on the other part and the horrid thought that his life was meaningless.

What was he supposed to do with all that knowledge and an half finished shithouse on the countryside.

He left his bed just when it grew cold, although the natural perfume of (Y/N) still lingered on his pillow.

The kitchen smelled amazingly, but (Y/N) wasn’t stopping a single minute to face him, in an awkward silence that honestly made him uneasy.

“… I am sorry for the accident of tonight” he knew that he had probably scared her this morning, he could only imagine the hell she had gone through for her drunkard brother.

“I am actually the one who should be sorry, master Francis, it was… I shouldn’t have fallen asleep…” she rambled, clearly nervous.

“There is no need for the ‘master Francis’ and I personally am the tone who should be sorry, again, for the incident, I might have drunk a bit too much, yesterday…”.

She relaxed a bit, gracing him with a more lighthearted smile.

She had changed in her daily clothes, a high-necked blouse and a long gown of a beautiful light blue, tending to gray, which lighted up her age but also showed the sign of somebody who had grown up too quickly.

“… it didn’t go well?” in your voice there was no judgement and he couldn’t help but shake his head, meanwhile he seated himself to the table, as you brought him coffee and what you had prepared, enough that it would last him for days.

“Would you mind sitting down with me?” he asked, a bit shyly “My head is spinning and you moving around makes me feel even worse”.

She obeyed, setting herself down on one chair, the farthest away from him.

“If she didn’t like the moustache, you can still tell her you’ll cut it off” her genuine suggestion brightened up the mood, making let out a soft laugh “…no need to get this sappy about it”.

“Thank you for the suggestion, but it is simply more complicated than that…” and although they had known each other for not much time he confessed her everything that had happened that night with Roweena, and she listened with attention, her gaze becoming sadder as she took his difficulties.

“I am sorry to hear that…” her hands slowly inched closer to his, although she didn’t dare to take it “… I know what it is like to feel like any plan that you might elaborated isn’t working, because something changed, but…”.

And she finally took his hand.

“… but there is going to be a woman who loves you, I know it, and in the meanwhile, all you have to do is pick yourself up and look through the bright side…”.

“I can’t honestly see it” he mumbled, grumpily, and smirking she made him raise his head lightly, becoming bolder with her touches.

“You have a nice job, and you are going to build yourself a nice house in the countryside, you also have Charles… and if the entire woman thing doesn’t work, you might get a dog… I am sure Charles won’t be jealous”.

He couldn’t help but finally let out a laughter, not all his emptiness was now filled, but he couldn’t help but feel a more lighthearted, comforted by her gentleness and sweetness.

“… you are pretty wise about heartbreak, experienced many yourself?” he didn’t mean to actually barge in her stuff, and he felt her retreat in herself, but still… she answered him.

“I haven’t had many lovers, I can’t offer a proper dowry and I don’t think about love…” she mumbled shyly, meanwhile she hid her gaze “… but lately… somebody has been… I have thought about somebody… in that way”.

“He is beyond lucky” he couldn’t help but think that somebody like her would be a perfect partner: beautiful, hardworking and constantly having something to be happy for “… I hope that he knows that…”.

“I haven’t… come forward with him” she mumbled rather shyly, removing her hand from his grip “I do think that I am not… what he is looking for… so I am just waiting”.

He raised his coffee cup and moved it towards her.

“To us waiting for the people of our lives”.

She simply smirked meekly and then set back to take care for anything.

Weeks had gone and soon it was Autumn and then Winter.

Francis had had to slowly renounce for a bit to his country house, but he was comforted by (Y/N)’s teasing presence, who hadn’t allowed any trespassing of their precious riding lessons, which had somehow brought them together, and in the end they weren’t anymore master and servant.

They were good friends, if not something more.

Hadn’t it been for the constant reminder of Roweena’s hurtful words, he would have maybe tried to court her, although the society would have frowned upon such a union.

But he had started caring less and less about society’s opinion.

But (Y/N) did.

And he respected her shyness, choosing to admire her from afar.

And then that night happened: it had been pouring rain and there was no way Francis could have let her go out in the coldness and weary weather, asking her to stay as a guest.

Through the passing of seasons, she had started staying far more in his house, more time than not, when he wasn’t there, busy on trips or social events so that it would be less scandalous, staying in the guest room.

He knew that it was a small refuge from the daily sadness of her life: her brother would usually hurt just her in a drunken fury to steal the money she made at Francis’ house, he would rarely touch his mother for some kind of conscience he had, and the mother always hid the smaller children, meanwhile her other sisters were many times away, staying at some old lady’s house where they ere employed as a seamstress.

Many times, he had wanted to march over to her house to fight off the awful man, teaching him to pick up a fair fight, but she always made him swear not to.

‘It would make him angrier and the village would talk about it’.

Still, whenever he saw her brother, he would throw him a rather meaningful glance that he had his eyes on him and he better behave.

He was aching for a reason to put him in jail once and for all.                                                            

He had let her stay that night, due to the pouring rain, and the morning he had let her sleep in, mostly due to the fact that she had overworked herself lately, helping her sister with some seamstress work and helping her mother at the farm.

He had thought about even getting her breakfast ready, although he couldn’t cook to save his life.

But this had unreasonably created a lateness to her, and although they had had a nice morning, she had had to rush the entirety of the thing, since she had known that her brother would already be wondering what was going on, since she didn’t know for how long her sister would cover her.

He hadn’t thought that her delay of a few minutes would cost her so much, mostly because their plans had worked many times.

Not that time.

When her brother had come from a night of drinking and gambling he had expected to find breakfast ready, but her sister hadn’t been able to cover for her, since she had been called in early, so when he hadn’t found what he expected he had gone crazy, wrecking the house, meanwhile her mother hid with the littlest ones.

So, when she had come home late, having stayed the entire night away, he had unleashed his fury onto her.

Francis had known about this when one of his officers had been asked to come to the house to sedate the fury of the brother, and instead of sending him he had gone there himself.

He had ridden Charles till the old house and there he had found (Y/N)’s sister, crying her eyes out, both her little siblings in her hands, immediately asking for his help.

He had rushed in, knowing perfectly that she must have been in danger, and he had found not only the house completely destroyed, but she was cowering in an angle, bruised and bloodied, an eye swollen enough that she didn’t seem to be able to open it.

And her brother was on the table, a bottle in front of him and their mother moving around the house to try to bring him breakfast, meanwhile he screamed.

And in that moment, he had been the one who had seen red.

He had rushed to the man, a pathetic little ignorant man, and had pushed him till the chair under him had fallen down catching him by surprise, but he was too drunk to realize the change of plan and Francis had done everything to a lighting speed, immediately coming across him and starting the fight.

The punch was the first of many, he didn’t think, he just saw the bruised face that (Y/N) had sported when he had at first walked in, and the only thing that stopped him were her small and ushered pleas.

She had dragged herself to him, her hand trying desperately to reach for him, meanwhile she asked and pleaded him to stop, not differently than she had done before with her brother.

“Please… mas…ter.. Francis… he is not worth it”.

He knew it all too well, but it hurt him to see her like that, and he disentangled himself from his brother, and gently brought her into his arms, raising her in them so that she wouldn’t be hurt and force herself through a painful situation.

“I am going to get my men to collect your son” he simply uttered at the (Y/N)’s mother who pleaded with her eyes to avoid such a strong solution, but he was unremovable “… this scum doesn’t belong in such an household”.

And then he exited with (Y/N) bloody and bruised in his arms, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder probably to hide some kind of uneasiness to her own vulnerability and he didn’t talk preferring to walk in science to his home, waiting there for a doctor who could examine her and bandage her wounds.

He could see all the town’s eyes on them, but he could have cared less.

He couldn’t help but think about how close she had been to death.

What would have happened hadn’t he been able to come to her, just in time?

He couldn’t think about that in the slightest, not when he was worried sick about her.

The sight of her bruised face was painful enough, because it spoke of extreme pain and he couldn’t help but be extremely worried on her future.

She had talked him and the doctor, once he had come, he had said she was lucky she had ‘such a thick head’ or she wouldn’t be alive.

He had checked her ability to move her body and although she did so with a painful breath it was clear that she hadn’t been injured permanently, although he had to bandage your ribs, since some seemed broken, a procedure which Francis hadn’t been able to stand, turning around to give her some privacy and because the sight of bruised skin honestly made him not only feel awful but also like he hadn’t done enough for her.

And certainly, like he hadn’t hit enough that bastard.

Also, her intellectual abilities weren’t compromised, for which he was even more thankful, because to ruin such a wonderful brain it would be a true waste.

“I am going to grab something in my office to help with the pain, I’ll bring it when I’ll come to check on her, tomorrow, right now it’s better if she is kept awake, it is good for her head”.

He had thanked the doctor and handsomely tipped him for the inconvenience and to keep his mouth shut, before he came back at her, she was facing the opposite wall, wanting to hide and shrink away from him, in a desperate fetal position.

“… do you want something to eat?” he didn’t know what to do.

She must have had an awful day and he wasn’t helping her much: he had beaten her brother…

… who had reduced her to a bloody pulp, but family was strong.

“… no, thank you” she sniffled, meanwhile she adjusted on her side, a little moan of pain leaving her lungs.

“What about a book?” he just wanted so damn to be useful, even with the easiest of asks “… I can read it to you”.

“I think that you have already done more than I deserved, Mr. O’Malley… I…” her voice was so low that it was just a simple whisper and hadn’t he been so still “… I am truly ashamed you had to see that… you must think so…”.

“You think that it is you who should be blamed for this?” his anger made her flinch, but it wasn’t directed at her “… you have no fault in this, you are the victim…”.

“I should have fought harder…” she tried to mumble, but he was unable to stop himself and his anger from flaring up.

“… and he should have never touched you!” because it was the damned truth, it wasn’t her fault in the slightest and before Francis knew it, she turned around: her face a map of bruises and hurt, and he found himself walking closer, no sign of fear in her eyes, just shame again “… I am sorry for not having stopped this sooner…”.

“It wasn’t your business” she mumbled, meanwhile he softly raised her chin, grabbing it between his thumb and pointer fingers helping her look at him, meanwhile she held back a soft whimper of pain “... I am still not your business”.

“You are, instead” he moved her so that she could stare at him in the eyes “You are so damn my business, with your gentleness and softness, and you deserve nothing more than this in the world, and I am sure that from now it is given to you”.

He made sure every world meant something for her and she looked at him like she did believe him, although there was still some kind of shyness in her eyes and he was more than aware about the fact that sadly he had gone too far, but… the little smile she sent his way… was worth it.

“Thank you for being there, Mr. O’Malley” the little smile turned in a devious smirk “… you aren’t so bad yourself…if you can overlook that awful moustache”.

“Well you are certainly back to normal!” he laughed out loud, truly relieved that you hadn’t lost your bite “… I am going in the kitchen to cook something, scream if you need help”.

Some time had passed since Francis had freed (Y/N) from the grasp of her brother and although the first days it had been simply to help her through her convalescence (although she was stubborn as hell, and many times she had tried to help him around the house), then he hadn’t been able to send her back to her house, although her brother had been sent to jail.

Hence, he wouldn’t annoy her, anymore.

He would make sure of it.

But somehow the permanence at his house had marked her in a bad way, since the entire town would talk about her as if there was some kind of illicit relationship between you two.

Old ladies would talk about how he had gotten stuck with her, thanks to some kind of evil plan of her and his lower officials would say even worse, using words he had long-since prohibited.

It almost seemed as if there was no exit, in this kind of situation: she couldn’t exit her house (although she would still go out to see her family, but they seemed to have excluded her from their core) without risking people looking dirtily at her, since her modesty had been shredded, in their eyes.

And she couldn’t go back to her family.

The only way was for her to stay in that city was with him…

Under a legalized bond, such as marriage.

He honestly didn’t have many chances after his loss of Roweena at marriage, and he couldn’t deny the growing attraction he was feeling for her, only enticed by the need to protect her, so he couldn’t help but feel like making her an honest woman might help her.

But he was aware that it wasn’t a simple question and one day, once he had come home, he had asked her opinion on the matter: starting from how she felt about the situation and what were her ideas to stop this behavior towards her.

“I don’t know how” sadness shone in her face, meanwhile she softly fidgeted with her hands “… I don’t know what I have to apologize for… I don’t know why my life is so angry about me… I just… I feel like hiding in this house is also not a proper solution”.

“You know that this doesn’t bother me” he mumbled “… but I might have an idea to solve this”.

Her eyes immediately brightened up: the “house arrests” were pretty heavy on her, although she tried her best to avoid showing the difficulties and the emotions that this rejection from society brought to her.

“… we might have to marry”.

Her eyes literally rolled behind her head for the surprised a.nd she almost fell from the chair.

“… what?” she mumbled, meanwhile he worried that it hadn’t been the brightest of her ideas “… you must be joking”.

“I am not” and he exited a little ring from his pocket, which he had picked up the night before “… I know this might be excessive… but if you marry me, they’ll leave you alone, although it is sad to say”.

“I know… I know…” she was looking at the ring, not daring to touch, which was definitely not good “… but… you don’t… you have no fault in this, you can’t always help me Mr. O’Malley, this is too much”.

“…it isn’t such a bad condition for me, you are already in the house every day, so it won’t change much, and I can’t think of anyone, after Roweena, so I don’t think that I’ll ever settle down…” he knew it might have been a bit excessive, but so were the society’s rumors “… people say I need to have a wife, and you need somebody who’ll quiet the rumors, so we are going to get married, we respect each other and have some kind of friendship; we are for sure better than many couples I know”.

She still looked back at him, confused and shocked, before slowly her hands reached to the ring, immediately retreating at last.

“You don’t want me as your wife… I am…” she mumbled, again nervous, looking at him in the eyes “… I can’t… what if you regret it?”.

“My heart has been broken since the end of the war, and when you came in my life, you brought some kind of solace in my life and I’ll forever appreciate you, as your eternal debtor”.

She looked once more to the ring and this time she gripped it in her fingers.

“Should I be surprised that it isn’t as tacky as your moustache?”.

“Be ready for a lot of tackiness in the future, my wife”.

The marriage had been rushed, but not enough that it seemed a coverage for an unexpected pregnancy.

Her sister and James had been their witnesses, she had worn a beautiful white dress, the best one he could have afforded, but she would have looked angelically even in rags.

The entire thing was more a quick need than an actual want, hence after the small ceremony was over they had retired home, thanking their few guests, who had wished them all happiness, although many of the people sent their way some dirty and annoyed looks.

Once behind closed doors, they had both let out soft and relieved breaths.

“… it is done” Francis mumbled.

“We are husband and wife” she replied, as if it was a shocking truth.

“… before anything goes further” he mumbled, immediately moving towards her, trying not to corner her, since she already had a blush going on, on her pretty cheeks “… I might be your husband, but you don’t owe me anything”.

Her cheeks definitely flushed, at what he meant: the duties of a wife were known to her, but he knew better than to push her, not after everyone in her life had done that.

They were similar in that: they both had been forced in things they hadn’t wanted.

And he didn’t even think that he could do something like that to her.

“…well before anything goes further, I also have a confession to do” she mumbled not even looking at him in the eyes “… you remember when I said I was in love with somebody…?”.

How could he not, he had wondered for entire days who that man was, if she would be heartbroken to have to marry him instead of the man of her dreams.

“… that man… well… it was you”.

And before Francis could properly reply to that outstanding confession, you ran away.

Since that confession she had been distant towards him: not careless but there was no way he could even feel like she was at ease with him, since she would constantly avoid him, whenever she could.

They might have been married now, but… they were more strangers than actual wife and husband.

The confession that she had fallen in love with him, had confused him, mostly because he didn’t want the feelings she harbored for him to be some kind of “reward” for his behavior towards her; he didn’t want nothing more than her purest form of affection.

The thought that she felt like she owed him something honestly made him feel sick at his stomach.

But now the town talked more secretively whenever she would walk out of their houses, and she had now some friends, other wives to whom she was slowly teaching how to read and write and Duncan had suggested she actually tried to get some teaching degree.

‘You are good at teaching, so you should try to get it certified, and you might open a little school here’ he had once mumbled, meanwhile she had told him about how many women sadly didn’t learn to read or write, and they kept in this horrible condition till the end of their days.

At the time she had simply blushed and nodded, but Francis had discovered soon that she had started getting some information on how to become a teacher and he couldn’t help but encourage her in secret, continuing with bringing her books, as some kind of gift for sticking for so long with him.

And then the ball of the town had rolled around and also (Y/N) had been taken by the frenzy of the choice of the dress and the thought of dancing around for the first time after entire days of pain.

She was definitely gorgeous, when she smiled so openly and naively, it was genuine and Francis was definitely addicted to that beauty.

Finally the night of the ball had come around and for the first time in month the looked like a true couple, with her hanging onto his arm, dressed up in a puffy but graceful green dress, the color mixed with light blue to catch better the lights and heighten her colors.

(He had to admit that when she had come down the stairs, almost running in that… thing, his heart had stopped beating and he was fucking sure that she was the most beautiful creature in the whole town).

(If not the entire world).

The ball was much smaller than many he had attended but it gave off some kind of familiar atmosphere and he felt comfortable with his pretty wife at his arm, finally laughing like she hadn’t in just so many days, softly showing her teeth in a ridiculous manner that made him want to kiss her pretty lips.

But he had to be the proper gentleman.

They still slept separated, but sometimes he would wake up from a nightmare, probably his screaming having woken her up and he would find her on the couch, a little candle illuminating the room and the book she was reading and which she proceeded to read out loud to lull him back to sleep.

He was dancing with some old lady that had stolen him from a laughing (Y/N), meanwhile she danced with a rather young courtier, one of the child of the wives she had been helping, who had started to court her, enough that Francis couldn’t help but be jealous of the way she would smile at him.

And then it happened.

Roweena had always been known for her grand entrances: once she had hired servants to carry her in a Cleopatra-way, something which should have told him what he was in for, a long time ago.

But the entrance she did, stuck in his mind mostly because there was no reason for her to here, so he wasn’t expecting her in the slightest and even if it might make him pass for an egocentric, he knew she had come back for him.

She had eyed him in the crowd and he immediately shifted away from the woman he was holding, moving towards (Y/N), collecting her in his arms, and sending the poor child a sweet smirk, promising him candies, meanwhile he tried to drag away his wife from the drama.

But it wasn’t enough.

Roweena reached them easily and she immediately clasped onto him, hugging him closely, meanwhile he felt (Y/N) nervous against him, stilling her movements, as she tried to pretend everything was fine.

“…ahh look at you Francis, making me come all the way from my honeymoon for you!” her voice was cheery enough that everyone had heard and it wasn’t a secret that everyone was looking at her.

“Roweena, what are you doing here?” he didn’t care that he was being extremely rude, but he didn’t want to waste any time, mostly when (Y/N) was still at great unease, clearly comparing herself to Roweena, since she was smart enough to realize she had been Francis’ first love.

“Ah, that isn’t a nice way to speak to a lady” she commented, but didn’t let his tone get in her way, tangling her arms together “… but if you must know, I am here for you”.

The last words of her phrases had moved onto a more confidential tone, as if she didn’t want (Y/N) to hear her, sending towards her a rather dirty look, that got on Francis’ nerves.

“.,, I have come here to take up your offer about having a nice life on the countryside” each words seemed forced out of her mouth, as if he had just obliged her to follow him, which was rather unlike him, but it still didn’t stop him from being ashamed “… the horses and the cattle, the entire thing, you know, I am ready for it”.

“… and what about your fiancé?” he felt (Y/N) beside you fidgeting nervously, as if she had wanted Roweena to get the hell out of their way as soon as it was possible.

But he, instead was making small talk with her.

“He isn’t…” Roweena for the first time since forever seemed at loss for words “… he was a big pretender…not definitely what I needed… and he made me truly appreciate what I had lost with you”.

Which meant that he hadn’t shown to have as much money as he was supposed to, to stay with Roweena, and to properly ‘take care of her’.

And she had gone back to him.

“… well that is quite the trouble” he hoped to sound as annoyed as he could “… but I don’t know how to help, I am not sure that my wife would appreciate me helping you”.

He saw and felt (Y/N) beaming against him, finally moving a step closer to him, smiling gently at her.

Kill them with kindness, indeed.

“…a wife?” she asked confused, meanwhile (Y/N) showed off her pretty ring, nothing too expensive but it made quite the work “… you married?”.

“Happily married” (Y/N) enforced, her hand immediately gripping his, before she laid a soft kiss onto it.

“… oh ahem…” she obviously didn’t know what to do anymore “…I didn’t know…”.

“Well now you know…” (Y/N) smirked, before she gripped tight Francis’ hand, turning just to leave her with a last message “… and I even like his moustache”.

And then they were both running away like two giggling teenagers, Francis trying to keep her dress from making her trip (which happened still), meanwhile she smirked, their eyes still entwinned.

They seemed a couple, and as they reached the outside of the ballroom, to properly breath more freely away from that society of conventions, he couldn’t help but feel like things were easier now.

So easy that with extreme gentleness and softness he moved to lay a sweet kiss on her lips, the first since their marriage, since she had allowed him to graciously push his lips against hers, in a shy kiss.

But in this one, although he still kept it shy, her lips came alive under his and before he knew it, she was the one leading the kiss, softly teasing his lips, mapping them out with her tongue, before her teeth tested the softness of them.

And it was all interrupted as her nose came in contact with his moustache, tickling it gently, enough that she had to separate herself from him, to sneeze making him giggle softly, meanwhile she hid behind her hands, clearly ashamed.

“I told you to cut that damn moustache” she snickered, not truly angry, and he gently pushed her hands away from her face, facing her pretty eyes and those delicious lips.

“…I’ll cut my beloved moustache, learn how to play the harmonica and build you a house on the countryside, if you promise to kiss me every day like that”.

Now the embarrassment on her cheeks was true and he thought he might have overstepped his limits, but then she gently moved closer and slowly and softly, but with a meaningful glance at their now-entangled hands, she smirked softly and reached out to kiss one of his cheeks.

“I’ll kiss you each day, my captain” she said “… moustache or not…”.

“Then why… why have you been so cold with me, all this time?” he knew that hadn’t he asked her this he wouldn’t be sure if his feelings were reciprocated as hers; she might have been scared by the ghosts of his past, when he would wake up screaming.

She might not want a traitor, and more importantly she might hate him for forcing her in a marriage, although he had been the one, she had loved, and she had confessed so.

“…I didn’t… it wouldn’t have been proper for me to express my feelings… when you were my master, mostly because… you had your feelings for Roweena… and when you came up with the idea of the marriage I thought you were doing it more out of pity than actual interest for me… and I… just was scared that what you felt for me, was not enough”.

He had thought the same, each night, since their wedding, when he had woken up alone, uncherished and without her by his side.

He might have harbored feelings for Roweena, but he had let them go, as soon as (Y/N) had entered her life, showing him the truth and the wonder that being loved with the same amount, meant.

He loved her.

He knew it.

And he would act on it, now that he knew she wouldn’t run away.

“Well than rest assured, milady” he mumbled, meanwhile he brought her by the waist closer to him “… what I feel for you is stronger than what I have ever felt for anybody else. All my life I haven’t chosen anything, and then you came in… and I chose to marry you, although selfishly… because I wanted you… and I hope you are happy, because we are stuck”.

“As long as you cut that horrid..!” before she could finish the sentence, Francis had lightly tilted her body, dipping her a bit, enough for her to have to rely on him for balance and as if that wasn’t enough, he kissed her, this time deeply and slow.

A sensual kiss, finally, one between two lovers.

Finally.

He pushed her against him, feeling the entirety of her warm body against his, meanwhile she simply smirked against the kiss, letting her mouth open after his tongue teased her lips, pushing itself through the little “o” which formed as she was surprised by how swiftly his hands moved from her waist to cup her buttocks, collecting the layers of her dress to pick her up in his arms.

As they separated, he twirled her around making her smirk, meanwhile she giggled and tried to make him stop, knowing all too well that although they were away from the main crowd, they were still in an extremely public place.

And they were indeed caught.

… by Mrs, Leipniz, their neighbor, an old widow who looked dourly at them, muttering something about ‘newlyweds not having any shame’, before she moved away and Francis felt her shivering, obviously embarrassed, but also cold.

“C’mon let’s go home” he muttered, gently putting her down, but keeping their hands linked in front of him, meanwhile he led her to their home.

He helped her out of his coat once they were inside, but she distracted him keeping on kissing all his face, meanwhile he smirked at her rushed affections, but he welcomed them, but as soon as she was out of the awful coat he could have a great look at her dress, meanwhile she twirled for him.

“You are freezing, babygirl” he mumbled as her freezing hands, settled onto his chest “… might I warm you up?”.

He wiggled his eyebrows making her blush but also smirk, meanwhile she just turned, setting up a meditative pose, as if she was thinking.

“… and how would you do that, Mr. O’Malley” she teased him, before a small kiss was sent onto his lips, just for her to retreat immediately.

“Well, I’ll have you know, Mrs. O’Malley…” he smirked at the way her name tasted in his mouth being said like that “…that I have a lovely fireplace in my room”

“But I also have one in my room” she murmured trying to appear completely unbothered by the entire thing, meanwhile she smirked at him, trying to run away from his arms, which only tightened the grip on her, making her giggle.

“Oh, but mine, little girl…” he smirked, pushing himself against her, so that the sexual innuendo was clearer to her, making her feel his excitedness through the layers of her too-covering dress “… is bigger”.

She giggled, completely red in her face, but she just nodded, before blowing a soft kiss to him and exiting his arms, caught by the distraction and rushing in Francis’ room, merely closing the door behind her.

He snickered, but quickly followed her, discarding on the way his jacket, remaining in a soft linen shirt, and his “more-than-properly-tight” pants, finding that she had also shed part of her dress, the full gown and her own jacket revealing some linen puffy underpants and her lithe corset, which was tightened over a sheer chemise, truly making Francis’ mind reach its most sinful thoughts.

“... you took your time, old man” she muttered, gently reaching behind her to unlace her corset, a lighter shades of blue with golden insert, and Francis moved closer to her immediately, slapping gently her hands away to undo the corset, in a newfound intimacy he loved with all his heart.

“… and you are taking too many liberties brat” he replied, pushing on her corset laces, effectively stealing her breath, something that made her take a deep intake of breath, suffocating whatever she was going to protest with “… I might have to punish you”.

He then moved and pushed onto the laces to effectively freeing her from that annoying garment meanwhile he laid passionate kisses onto her exposed neck, since her hair where in an updo, something for which he was thankful, although he had quite the passion for her hair being let down.

“Is that a promise, old man?” she spoke back, turning her face to him, gently linking their lips for a slow kiss, making him feel every crevice of her lips, meanwhile his fingers passed onto her body, letting the corset fall down her body, exposing the modelling nightgown.

“That is definitely a promise” he smirked, gently raising one hand onto her breasts, squeezing one softly in his hand, meanwhile your mouth opened, and he bit the tip of her ear, making her moan out loud “… and I always respect my promise”.

This was enough for him to feel her tremble beneath him, pleasure oozing from her lithe body and he knew it all too well that she was probably drenched in her garments and discovered this and much more as he probed softly her cotton underpants, before his hand slipped in them, stopping at the beginning of them.

“Want me to make you feel good, lovely” his other hand went to her hair and he pushed the main hairlock in it, letting them fall onto her shoulder, meanwhile she nodded, biting her lips, and his hand moved further, meanwhile her moans answered the question.

“… please, Francis… I…” and then she turned to him, the gentleness of her eyes didn’t hide the fire in them “…I can’t… I have waited long enough for this”.

And he didn’t dare to actually delay her wishes anymore and he softly slipped his fingers onto her mound, finding it indeed wet and warm, and not because of the burning fireplace, which was the sole light in the room, alongside some candles lighted up on the nightstand, permitting him to see her beautiful face, the way it contorted as his fingers came in contact with your secret.

But this wasn’t enough.

“Can you lay on the bed for me, lovely?” he asked, and although protesting against the loss of his hand, gently teasing her, but she laid, meanwhile he softly nestled between her thighs, already feeling the delicious smell of her arousal.

The knowledge that she was already this aroused because of him was making him quite crazy.

He rutted lightly against the bed, to relieve a bit of the pression on his own member and when he finally managed to focus on her again, he recognized that between him and that sweet nest of honey there was an obstacle: her underpants.

He almost wanted to rip them off, but he knew that this gesture might scared her, so he gently dragged them down her soft legs, meanwhile he revealed her nest, now barely hidden from some linen short pants, decorated by frilly parts in silk.

Her wetness had sipped through them, revealing the shape of her puffy folds.

And he pushed them down her legs, after the underpants, having her almost naked under him, the chemise the only thing covering her, and with the way she blushed as he raised his eyes to meet hers, and tightened her grip onto the hem of it, he didn’t dare also defraud her of that last shard of modesty.

He preferred for her to guide him when she felt ready.

But she had asked to make her feel good.

She had said she had waited for too long.

So, he shouldn’t make her wait any longer.

He dipped one fingers in between her folds, teasing her softly, more to see her joyful condition than to actually elicit any pleasure from her, which, still, sparked in his finger’s wake.

She gently pushed her hand into the sheets and raised her back off the bed, but immediately stilled as Francis found her that damned sweet spot he knew that would make her see stars, meanwhile her grip on the sheets tightened, and her legs came to close themselves onto his fingers, either to lock him there or to hide herself from her ashamed state.

He retreated his finger from that aching point just to collect against wetness being dripped by her folds just to douse it over her pearl, lightly swollen due to his ministration, continuing this a few times before it was enough that he felt like he wouldn’t hurt with his next moves.

“I am going to breach your innocence, my little girl” he said, raising her eyes to look at her, finding some kind of dark pleasure in them, a silent prayer, because it wasn’t enough “… it might be uncomfortable, but if you want to stop… you just tell me, won’t you, sweetheart?”.

“Of course, Mr. O’Malley” the way she addressed him, alongside the rough tone of her voice, arousal through it being evident.

“I might actually like the way you pronounce my name” he smirked, before he went down, nestling himself better in her nest, making sure that his shoulder blocked her legs so that she wouldn’t deny him access.

“Have you ever done this to anyone before?” there was some uneasiness in her voice, that made him stop from doing much more, making him raise his eyes to look at hers “… I don’t… I have never…”.

“Yes, I have done this before…” he felt disappointment in her eyes, alongside with her ducking her head away “… but I have never been in love with the person I have done this before”.

And to enhance the concept he kissed her thighs, till his breath was just onto her nest, making her moan lightly, meanwhile she screwed her eyes close, the knowledge that he loved her making her feel like nothing more could be more pleasurable.

“I… I am scared you won’t like… it… with me” she mumbled, meanwhile his tongue licked a little path from her inner thighs to the upper part, softly delimiting and mapping out the confines of her womanhood.

“You think too much, (Y/N), there is nothing in the world that you could do to make me feel like you aren’t perfect to me” he definitely felt like she was a bit more relaxed and then inched his finger between her folds, holding it here, meanwhile he moved up so he could kiss you as he slipped his first finger inside her, and immediately she bit down on his lips.

He tried to ease the gentle pressure with a softer touch of his lips, but it was enough with the way her walls tightened around his finger, not wanting to let it go, that he knew it was enough, and that she was starting to feel pleasure.

He still checked in her eyes, which had rolled back a bit, and when she rutted lightly against it.

And he was completely loss in the adoration of the way pleasure overtook her, and he gave her what she needed, pumping lightly his finger in and out of her, till he knew that it wasn’t enough anymore and he moved his lips onto her folds, before they raised onto her clit and he softly kissed it, before he started sucking on it, making her moan loudly and her fingers, unwillingly, treaded in his hair.

She pushed him, meanwhile her legs closed around his shoulder, trembles of pleasure going through her and he knew that she was almost there.

She just needed a little push, or better… a little crook of his finger, meanwhile his tongue started lapping more languidly her pearl, making him feel every inch of it, stimulating her till she was oversensitive and when pleasure came… she screamed.

She contorted over the bed, the evidence of this never having happened, was clear in in the movements of her body, ecstatic and honest, and definitely divine with the way her juices flowed in his mouth, the taste better than anything he had tasted, and he passed a few minutes slurping anything he could from their natural source.

And when she pushed him away from the hair, in a rather tight grip, which only excited him, and she brought him in a kiss, a messy kiss, collecting some of her own juices in a desperate attempt of passion, in a show of tongues that lead her to take the upper hand, inverting the positions.

Now she was on top of him, and he wasn’t sure he minded it at all, now with the way her thighs pushed onto his hardening bulge, which was becoming more and more desperate, searching for friction.

“I do think that I want more” she murmured, almost reaching his lips, before she turned back, and one hand reached down his pants, although an adorable blush coated her cheeks “… I have tasted corruption and I don’t think that I can stop”.

He smirked simply, reverting again the positions and making her giggle.

“Well that is good because I have no intention to stop…” he giggled, pushing down his pants and undergarments with them, meanwhile another hand tasted the wetness and readiness of her soft nest “… and little girl, get ready for the final shred of your innocence being forever stolen”.

“I can’t believe that you are reading those things, when you have a man of bones and skin in front of you” mumbled annoyed Duncan, meanwhile you turned another page of the romance you were reading before bed.

Romance books had always bene your guilty pleasures: they made you relax, alongside the fact that whenever Duncan wasn’t with you they were your own way to have a bit fun with your body, since the smutty description could be quite “steamy”.

You hadn’t been able to put down, still, your latest romance reading, not only because it was definitely a slow-burn romance, but the male character also sounded like Duncan, hence you had been too busy trying to finish the book to actually dote on your real “boyfriend”.

“Just give me a few minutes… we are getting to the interesting part” you mumbled, trying to hush your boyfriend, but whenever Duncan was bored and not receiving enough attention, he was prone to particular vexations towards you.

And in this case, he literally stole the book from you, before discarding it rather ungently away from you and throwing it in an angle of your shared bedroom, making you scream at him in protest, but he immediately stopped any response of yours kissing you and pushing himself on top of you.

“… I think that I can offer you more entertainment than some stupid book” he smirked as soon as he retreated from the kiss “… I am definitely better than Captain O’Malley”.

“Oh, are you sure?” you smirked, feeling like you had just gifted yourself a wonderful night of sex “… won’t you show me, Captain Shepherd?”.

----

As always... any feedback is more than welcomed and encouraged, I am always curious to know what you think of the shit I write, and I hope that you’ll appreciate it!

Also I do have to warn you that I have been having some personal problems and I haven’t felt like writing much so I am sorry if the next fics might take some more time!

And here are to the one who wanted to be tagged!

@so-langdon​ @blakewaterxx​ @emmyrosee​ @lovelylangdonx​ @1-800-bitchcraft​ @kaetastic​ @frenchbread4ever​ @lathraios​ @rosegoldrichie​ @rocketgirl2410​ @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern​ @forgivemelucifer​ @antichristfern​ @lonely-cloud​ @elena-75s-blog @ashyblondwaves​ @kleineshaschen​ @dyns33​ @vintagepink​ @langdondelrey​ @chloewinchester13​ @luthienshavenlove​ @ confusedafsthings @venusbloodlust​ @coezals​ @vixenmare​ @soph3218​ @baby--yoda​​ @omegaaislynn​​ @im-the-music-whore​​ @melodylangdon​​

[thepaperpanda]

The Last Encounter || Arthur Morgan x Reader (Reader POV)

Summary: You grieve deeply at the loss of your beloved Arthur but a chance encounter changes everything.

Warnings: none, just a little bit of sadness

Words: 3313

Author: Cass

You were free but it didn’t give you much. Gang was long time gone and you stayed all alone. No one needed your hunting skills, you didn’t have to collect money anymore and you got separated from all people you loved.

Most of time you spent on traveling from town to town or trying to earn some money here and there.

All people you once called family were dead, hiding or living their new lives somewhere. You loved the feeling of independence but at the same time you felt alone. Not to mention that you felt heartbroken.

When you heard about Arthur’s death you couldn’t believe these word, you thought it’s some kind of a sick joke… But unfortunately it wasn’t.

You never dared to visit his grave, you didn’t feel strong enough and didn’t know if you will ever be. Somehow you still believed it’s just a joke, every night you hoped he will just come to your camp or hotel room. Thing like this never happened.

You stopped your horse at the meadow.It was a nice, quiet place away from all those big cities and fancy people.

The life outside the city was easier to you, it was simple and that’s why you loved it.

You prepared your little camp and sighed sitting in front of a little campfire.You closed your eyes and immediately all the memories returned.

With eyes of your imagination you could see them - your whole family. Maybe it never was a perfect pack but you loved everyone in the camp. You opened your eyes and looked deep in the fire.

You wished to feel Arthur’s touch again, no matter if it would be his natural gently touch or wild one, a starved sexual touch he was often giving you in the privacy of your shared tent.

You were simply touch-starved at that point, you could have only imagined how he felt for most of his life.

You missed his voice and whispers. Didn’t matter if these would be his screams or whispers while making love, all you wanted was to hear him again.

Suddenly you hit the hard ground. “Fuck…” You hissed, sitting up. “Silly me..” You let out a sigh and sat back up, rubbing your arm.

You used to lean against Arthur while sitting in front of fire. This silly little habit still held upon you and you started to end up on the ground with realization that you were alone. There was no point in sitting awake too much. You quickly ate something, fed your horse and went to sleep.

Waking up in empty tent wasn’t always easy. You missed the additional warmth next to you and all those gently touches and kisses every morning.

You dragged yourself out of the tent and started to getting ready for upcoming day. “Maybe I should finally go there? I can’t… Run away from this.” You muttered to yourself, sitting in front of cracking campfire.

Your horse gently nudged your arm and you smiled sadly. You were right, you tried to ran away from this but there was no point in this anymore, it was time to face it. Arthur was gone and waiting for him to visit you in camp was pointless. He was dead and you had to finally understand this.

You drank your coffee and ate quick snack before collecting your stuff and mounted your horse. There was a long road ahead of you, so there was no time to waist.

Trip to the right took half of your day.

“At last he is where he wanted to.” You whispered and slowly dismounted your horse, then you approached the beautiful, lonely cross.

“Oh Arthur… I’m so sorry it took me so long. I think I was too scared to accept you are gone. Like forever gone.” You whispered, kneeling down on the ground.

Your hand gently touched the wooden cross, tracing letters with your fingers. You wanted to be strong, not to break again but this was stronger than you. “Why you had to do this?! Why… You were carrying whole gang on your shoulders and look where it had led you? Just… What with me? I am here. All alone. Without you, my love.”

You had no idea what got into you but you hugged the cross, maybe you had a silly hope to feel some of his heat but there was only cold wind.

You felt tears running down your cheeks, you clanged to the cross like your life depended on it but nothing changed. He didn’t come or you didn’t wake up from the bad dream, you were here in front of his grave and he was gone.

Grief and sorrow took over your life in a few minutes. You felt too weak to move, everything you felt was pain and loneliness. You wanted to get him back, you wanted to be able to touch him one more time, tell him how much you love him.

You spent many days in there, close to him with your stupid hopes and even more stupid dreams. Your back were resting against big rock wall, you were sitting and crying was all you were doing. Soon, you became unmindful to your own body, even when it started to wail you because of the weather, hunger or thirst. You didn’t move to eat, drink or find shelter from any weather changes.

Days and nights started to blend together, you couldn’t tell was it a day or a night and you didn’t really didn’t care anymore. All you cared about was this terrible scream of sorrow ripping your heart apart and destroying your mind.

Finally your body was too weak to keep you going. You simply collapsed on the ground and everything went black.

You woke up in completely different place, now you were surrounded by walls. Tucked nicely in a soft bed.

You were safe and warm. This would be perfect if you weren’t feeling like ran over by your own horse. Your head was spinning like thrown into tornado and your stomach hurt like hell but you still forced yourself to get up.Even if your legs were too weak to carry you, you didn’t give up. Using all your strength you dragged yourself to door.

Meanwhile John was sitting with others. “She should be glad, Charles found her. She would die out there, what was she even doin’ there? I thought she was dead or that she left the country long time ago.” Abigail said.

“Well, like you see she ain’t and I think she was there to say her goodbye but it was too much for her.” John shrugged and suddenly your soft whimper cut troughsilence.

You were still holding yourself on your feet by grabbing the doorframe as tightly as you could and honestly you were deeply surprised and happy to see John and rest of his family again after all those years. Everyone looked at you in shock because no one expected to see you back on your own legs so quickly.

“Christ, girl! Are you crazy?! You shouldn’t be up.” John muttered and walked up to you. You simply nodded and just then your legs gave up. John grabbed you and picked you up. “You are crazy. You should be resting but you never liked to listen, huh?” He said carrying you to the couch.

You only giggled softly and shook your head, your mouth felt too dry to talk. He set you down and looked at you, it was such a long time. “You are one lucky lady. Charles found you and brought you here, we were scared you will die.”

You let out a loud sight, you felt bad because you let your grief to take over you to the point it almost killed you.

“Here, this will help.” Abigail said softly offering you a glass water. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.”

You only nodded as your thank you and quickly drank the water. It was such a nice feeling to once again be  surrounded by people that once you shared your life with.

You were taken care of, really nicely. John and Abigail gave you your own little place in their house, at last until you would  get back in useful state again.

It took you around two weeks to get back to full health after your not so good adventure. You were highly grateful for their help, in return you were helping however you could. No matter what it was, cooking, cleaning, taking care of the animals or simply spending time with Jack by playing or reading books.

It was all nice but this didn’t calm the storm in your heart. One day you ran to John when you heard he is going into town. “John! Wait, I need you to get me something.” You said.

“What is it, Y/N? What can I get you?” He asked and smiled at you.

“I need you to get me a dress, a black one. You know, just plane black dress. Nothing fancy, I noted my size so you will be sure it fits.” You shrugged giving him little piece of paper.

“Uhm… Black dress? Why do you need it? I though Abigail give you few of her old ones.” He said slightly confused.

“I just need it please.” You said sadly. The truth was that you wanted to be mourning Arthur properly and you didn’t own any black dress.

John seemed to understand you. “Okay, I understand now. You got it, I will get it for you. Just, Y/N.” He put hand on your shoulder and rubbed it. “Don’t let it get over you just like last time, okay? We really don’t want to lose you and you are too young to join him now.” After these word John left to town.

You let out a deep sigh, you knew he was right but still you missed Arthur. You brushed off the thoughts and walked away to play with Jack or to help Abigail.

John returned at early evening, sun still was on the sky. You smiled sadly as he handed you packed dress. “Just like you asked, just be careful with your actions. Remember what I told you.”

You nodded and quickly disappeared in your room. Taking off your dress you looked at your own body. Some old scars, you got them long time ago while you still were running with the gang. Your hand moved along your skin in some random direction until it reached your neck. You notice something there.

“God… I forgot about this.” You giggled, touching a teeth mark. It reminded you about one silly situation. Once, during really heated sex, Arthur bit you hard enough to leave a permanent mark. You thought it was silly but also a little bit funny taking fact that Arthur was following you for almost two weeks and apologizing.

You tried to convince him that it’s okay, that you weren’t mad or anything but there was no use. Arthur still felt bad about if but one day some miracle happened and he accepted it, even started joking about it and that you were his, forever.

Oh yes, you were. You shook off the memories, you put the dress on and brushed your hair, humming softly.You grabbed your leather bag and quickly left house, shouting“I go take a walk! I will be back later!” before closing the door behind you.

The walk took a bit, you simply decided to go ahead until you found the perfect place to sit and rest and you did.

Even if it took an hour or longer, it was worth it. You found nice little field, close to the small forest and river. “This place will be perfect.” You said to yourself and went to sit near the river.

The place was simply perfect. Closing your eyes you started thinking about all the good things that happened in your life. You let your memories go ad your body relaxed.

All you could hear was a quiet and calming sound of a river and the soft touch of a wind caressing every part of your exposed skin which wasn’t that much to be honest. You enjoyed the feeling of your hair just being moved with every little blow.

You wished you weren’t here alone.

You sat like this in the ground, relaxing and enjoying the weather. Everything was calm and nice but suddenly you felt something sniffing your ear.

Your body went slightly stiff at the strange feeling, was it wolf that came to see if he can eat you or just a curious dog? What were you going to do, you were completely unarmed, you could fight with your hands but would it be useful against the wolf? Of course not!

You swallowed hardly and slowly turned around to see the beast preying on your life. But there was no wild, sharp-toothed animal trying to eat you alive. Instead, you saw a huge deer right in front of you and it was looking directly on you.

You let out a loud yelp and quickly tried to crawl away from wild animal but there was no use in this. With every inch you made, the deer was following you, still looking at you.

Soon, you stopped crawling and looked at animal. “What do you want? I don’t have anything good to eat with me, just go. Go away, please!” You whimpered terrified and covered your face with your hands.

The deer looked at you for a longer moment and soon lowered its head. You could feel its nose pushing your hands away, you let it happen.

Deer huffed loudly and nuzzled his head against yours. You blinked, frozen in place. Why was this happening? Why this animal was doing this? Were your dreaming? Maybe your fainted again and this was your dream? Were you hallucinating!?

After a moment animal moved away and looked at you once again. You bite your lips and decided to study animal carefully, maybe to figure out what it wants.

You tried your best, looking at every inch of the animal but nothing. Finally, your eyes stopped and deer’s eyes, they were nice and dark but... somehow you saw some shade of blue and maybe green there but there was one more thing. You saw a really familiar glimmer in those eyes, you have seen it before in one person’s eyes.

“Arthur...?” You asked even if it sounded like a silly thing to ask, it was a deer after all.

Right after your words deer let out a loud sigh that sounded even happy, he slowly lowered himself and laid on the ground.

You couldn’t believe it. Was it really him, maybe all those silly beliefs that you always heard about were real. You slowly sat on your knees and raised your hand to gently pet him.

He was visible happy with your movement because right away he nuzzled to your hand. “It must be you, oh Arthur.” You whispered and without thinking any longer just hugged to him.“I missed you... I missed you so much. How could you leave us just like that.” You whimpered, nuzzling to deer’s soft coat.

Deer let out a loud sigh and quiet sound, putting his head on your shoulder. He simply let you cry your sorrow out and as soon as you pulled away you were attacked with kisses. Could you even call it like this? He licked all over your face like you would be some salty treat until you started laugh, something that you thought will never happen again.

“What was that?!” You giggled, trying to wipe your face. Letting out a soft sigh, you sat next to the animal, deer put head on your lap.

“You have no idea what happened.” You whispered, petting his head gently.

You spent an hour or even longer telling him your story. The truth was you wanted to tell him everything but you felt like a fool when it came to the part where you almost killed yourself with your stupid behaviour but you didn’t spare him anything. You stayed honest with him. It all felt kind unreal. You were sitting on some field, petting a head of a huge deer that was resting on your lap and you were telling him the story of your life. It was obviously weird but somehow it brought you the comfort you missed for all those years, you were calm and you felt safe.

“…So yea, I ended up on John’s ranch. You would be proud of him, he have his own land with a house and everything. Abigail and Jack seems to be happy, It’s so nice there. I even got my own room.” You continued your story when deer raised his head and looked at your dress.“What... Something’s wrong with my dress?” You asked looking back at the animal.

Deer let out a quiet sound and started to nibble on your sleeve. “Hey, hey! Arthur! Stop, no you will destroy it.” This was the moment when it hit you, he had never seen you in black colour. You never dressed up in black colours, it just wasn’t your thing, plus you always tried to look beautiful and you never considered black as beautiful colour.

“Okay, I get it but just stop this.” You pushed deer’s head away and he muttered. “Listen, I know it looks weird but... I just had to honour you? I just wanted to to be in mourning. I mean, long time ago I heard that wives do this. I know we weren’t married but I just wanted to do this for you.”

Animal let out an loud, annoyed sound and started to pull on your sleeve strongly. “Arthur! Arthur! No! Stop it! I am sorry okay!” He didn’t liked it, you should have known this already, he would never like to see you mourning anyone. Not him especially.

You pushed his head away again, even if it was harder this time. “Okay! I get the message, I will take it as soon as I get home.” You promised and he calmed down immediately, putting his head back on your laps.

You let out a quiet sigh and started petting his head again, touching his ear or antlers from time to time.

You again felt like long time ago, when you simply sat with him in your tent, you would sit or read and he would be there with you probably scribbling something in his journal or just holding you. It was so relaxing that you didn’t even notice when the sun started to hide.

“It’s getting late… I should go before John will start to look for me again.”

Deer slowly got up and you followed his moved, rising back on your feet. Animal sniffed your hair and then nuzzled to your forehead. You did the same and smiled. “It was so good to see you again.” You whispered completely unaware of the tears running down your cheeks.

He looked at you and wiped tears with his muzzle, it was such a simple message and you understand it very well.

“I won’t be crying ever again.” After these words deer licked your face and you laughed loudly. “I love you too.”

And you let him go as much as it hurt you but you couldn’t just keep a deer, he was really free now. Just like he deserved to be. You watched him walk away until you weren’t able to see him anymore among the trees.

Letting out soft laugh you turned around and walked away.

After this pleasant meting you returned home completely changed, yes, your heart hurt because of the lose but you never let it get over you just like you did before.

You knew he was well and happy and you had to be, too.

Pandies🐼: @imidarogerson @grossograsso @thewildgardensstuff @leven-and-ashley @la-verdura @bearded-steve-rogers @sebbystan-plantlover @atuckyismylife @krispyjellyfishzombie @personality-within @haseki-huricihan @choppedgardenwhispers @vroobelek @lattimelka @chris-beamz @hidden-secrets69 @purepearls @volcanoxxx @kastrup-sofie @mikkal-akasaki @withoutashadowofhope @radbluebirdeagle @marvel-fan-site @smutloversblog @buquete @super-psycho-love69 @tanglesss @peter-sommer @baysidewest @vegemania @philip-stan @chodiusmmm @subwaystunnel @tykorclint @dagger-dragger @kurant @nothing-can-least-forever @oxfordkipem @deliciousbouquet90 @tuptuptup @hellenna80 @karina-marina9 @latimeriaaa @bratko @wurld89 @scott-evans @kiss-me-rouge @ovonel-espaniol @dancing-tacco @ratugadhi @white-tiger-shangrila @axn69 @eternal-life-awaits @mrs-laura-harmon @artsy-inside @gleeeeees @darkllaama @jatut @agawux @fuzzy-tigrrr @jrjohnsson2 @cassandbeast @maaargoshaaa @dontgetmewrongman @einexx @nwmtagsb @anini71 @secretlygrantaire @kyloren-supreme-ben @infinity-stones-seeker @thehappyspider @wings4life @huxyluxy @dontbeafraidchild @misafiryanki @electronicpatrolcollective @thisismysecrethappyplace @aulika @hidden-secrets69 @a-happy-wolf @creative-seahorse @arthurmorgan-bae

[buckysforeverprincess]

What Do You Want From Me? Ch 17

Lance Tucker, OFC Claire

Words: 2024

Warnings: Language

A/N: Let’s see what happens when Claire comes calling. Enjoy!

The knock on his door was expected. He knew she'd come when he called, and he knew she'd wait until the morning to do so thinking she was doing it on her own terms. The fact is, Lance knew her type; pegged her from the beginning. That's the very reason he one and doned her. Come to think of it...that's why he did it to them all.  

Lance came out the womb wooing the ladies. His mother told him he had the attention of every single female nurse in the labor and delivery unit. Mama Tucker never saw it as a problem, so Lance didn't either. When he became a gymnast, his moves continued to draw the ladies in and it never stopped. He relished in the female attention and used it to his advantage. Lance knew he could have anyone he wanted, and when fame came calling...so did the beautiful women with ugly personalities. That was his type. The women who knew they could have anyone they wanted. The ones that weren't wifey material. All they wanted was to fuck, party, and have a good time. The one nighters he chose were the ones that normally let men do the walk of shame in the morning. Lance was smooth enough to turn the tables on each one of them. He never thought it would bite him in the ass later.

Lance opened the door to see Claire standing there with a huge shit eating grin plastered to her face.

“Miss me?” She blew him a kiss and he just rolled his eyes.

“Why, of course I did! Please, come in.” His tone was sarcastic, but he let her in nonetheless.  

Claire entered his house and walked right into the living room throwing her jacket and purse on the couch. What was it with these women acting like they own his house, throwing their shit around? Clearly, they have no regard for the cleanliness of his home.

“So, you changed your mind?” Claire asks him, ego bursting at the seams.

“About that…tell me why? Why go through this elaborate scheme just to get to me? Surely I'm not worth ruining so many people's lives.”

She shrugs her shoulders and plops herself down on his couch, patting on the cushion next to her. Lance walks over but decides to sit on the ottoman at the end of the couch instead, trying to put as much distance as he could between them without seeming uncomfortable.

“What makes you think this was a scheme?” She licks her lips almost predatorily, and he knew what she was after. He'd have to be a little smarter if she was going to talk.

“You've won! She's marrying him…told me last night. Whatever it is you have on Jase, it doesn't matter anymore, but if you want to claim your prize, you have to tell me why?!” Lance leans himself back and opens his legs, looking very inviting, trying to get the woman to tell him what he wants to know.

“Because Lance…you and I are alike. We always get what we want, consequences be damned, and I know we could be very good for each other; unstoppable! Let's also not forget the amazing sex! There's nothing we couldn't do for each other. We could lay the world at our feet!”  

Lance breaks out in an uncontrollable laugh. Claire does not look impressed, glaring at him with murder in her eyes.

“Seriously Claire, you talk like this is world domination!” He continues to laugh, “like we'd be trending on twitter…hashtag Lance and Claire domination tour!”

Her expression doesn't change, and she still looks like she's going to kill someone.

“We are perfect for each other! Better for you than Y/N!” Claire yells with a fiery passion.

“You ever heard that opposites attract? Maybe that's why I fell for her?” He remains calm, trying not to feed into her anger.

“Cute, perfect, annoying, Y/N!”

Lance almost cringes when she says your name this time.

“She's weak! She could never tame you…you're too wild and need someone just as dominate as you!”

“So that's what this is about? I mean, she was just my PA! It's not like she had a direct line to my bed!”

It's mostly the truth. It only happened one time. But had things been different, Y/N would have been there permanently.

“You never gave me a second chance. Just fucked me and moved on!”

Lance looks at her in disbelief, “It's called a one-night stand. That's what you do!” He's shaking his head, pissing off the woman even more.

“What makes her better than me?!” Claire yells, demanding an answer.

Lance stands up and walks to his window, looking out into the beauty of the day. “She's everything I'm not.” He says softly, never looking back at Claire.

“I can be everything you need.” Claire says walking up behind him, placing her hands around his waist.

Lance closes his eye at her touch, it's not the intimacy he wants. Claire's not Y/N!

“Why Jase?” He hasn't stopped her from touching him, nor has he turned to face her. “And don't say it's because of his lifestyle. Everyone knows he's into BDSM.  I've seen him at the club, engrossed in a scene. That's not a reason to blackmail!” Lance throws it in her face.

He's a dominant too, and occasionally goes to the club when he's in desperate need of a submissive. It's been awhile since he's had a scene.

Claire chuckles at Lance, “no, that's not all. Just a small part. I chose him because he's got more to lose. He was raised by his aunt and uncle and he's honestly a good guy.”

She puts her head on Lance’s back, using her hands to rub on his torso. “His uncle is the governor, and he's not squeaky clean.”

Lance scoffs, “what politician is?”

Claire chuckles right back, “right, but he's been taking bribes; specifically, from my dad's company. I only stumbled on the knowledge and I'm sure there's more, but I really don't care. Jase would do anything to protect the people that raised him, so….”

Lance can't believe she just disclosed all that information, but also can't believe that her jealousy drove her to ruin so many people's lives.

“So, you blackmailed him into dating her? You really wanted her away from me that bad?” He keeps his tone calm, so she doesn't catch on to how seething mad he is inside.

“She's been in love with you for a long time. I needed her to focus on someone else...to forget about you.”  

There are still so many questions and not enough answers. He really must be careful how he handles things right now. Lance needs to know everything.

“My kids? How do my children factor in your plan?”

Claire moves her head and starts kissing his back. God! The shit he's enduring just to get the truth out of her is infuriating him to no end.

“Casualties of war. Jase will be a good father to them and they'll grow up with the best of everything. Face it Lance, you never wanted kids anyway. We all remember Maggie!”  

It's taking everything for him to not smack the shit out of her, but he just can't. He has to hold on a little longer.

Lance turns around and faces her, “so is that everything? Anything I missed? All this blackmailing is because you feel entitled and jealous? You're not only destroying Y/N’s life and my twins, but also Jase’s entire family including his governor uncle just because you want to be in a relationship with me? Now that I said that out loud, that's one big stupid risk you just took!” Lance begins to laugh, “you set up all these people over some stupid jealous crush! Oh my god, that's the fucking worst!”  

Claire starts to slowly back away from him and moves back to the couch and sits down, watching him laugh his ass off.

“Wait…,” Lance tried to catch his breath, “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me, I apologize.” He looks sincere in his apology.

“Maybe it wasn't the smartest plan…,” she looks at him and he can see how uneasy she has now become, “but would you have even looked my way if I didn't do this?!” Claire has once again raised her voice to get her point across.

Lance can't believe he's lowering himself to care right now. Claire is showing true emotion over the situation, but the whole thing is rather ridiculous to him. Blackmail, deceit, and lies are all she's good at. He really wants no part of this; just wants his life back.  

He makes his way over to where she's seated on his couch and kneels in front of her.

Lance places a hand on her knee in a sign of affection and gives her a soft smile.

“Honestly Claire, I don't really like the person I was. What I was doing, how I was treating women...that's not right or fair. But I did it, and I can't take it back. What I can do is change into something better. That's what I've been trying to do. Maybe it's time you change too.”  

Claire scrunches her face and her breathing becomes hard and fast, and Lance knows she's angry again.

“No!” She yells out and he stands up and begins backing away from her. “You don't get it Lance! I don't want to change and honestly neither do you!”

The angry woman stands up and heads straight towards him, getting up in his face. “If you don't give me what I want, I'll make life fucking miserable for Y/N and your kids! Jase will do what I tell him to just to make sure his family is protected! I'll make you regret ever saying no to me!”

This is a new development. Claire's threatening Y/N and the twins if he doesn't do what she wants. If he gets out of this with minimal damage he promises to convert to Buddhism. God, she’s all kinds of mentally unstable.  

“Look. I'm not saying no…,” he softly grabs her hand and holds them in his, “but right now, I have a meeting with my agent.”

Lance lets her go and walks to the couch, grabbing her things and placing them in her hands.

“I could go with you!”

Claire just went from psycho angry to happily excited. Nope! Not even a little bit.

“Meeting with my agent is a me thing. I don't ever take anyone else. You know…,” he begins walking her to the door to see her out, “maybe we could talk about this more later and maybe I could be your date for the wedding?”

Lance tries to sound as smooth as possible, so she doesn't expect and ulterior motives.

“You won't try anything?” Claire sounds a little suspicious of his sudden change of heart.

The man just shakes his head, “she doesn't want me. Y/N is dead set on marrying Jase. Maybe for me to move on and let her go, I just have to see her do it first.”  

Claire accepts his explanation and decides it's good enough for her, “fine…but if you try anything, I'll make sure Jase moves them far away from here! Understand?”

He nods at her in agreement, and she leans in and places a quick kiss to his lips. “I'll talk to you later!” The she devil walks out the door and to her car with a little more pep in her step.  

Lance watches her leave his driveway, never moving from his door. Once her sees her car hit the main road, he heads straight for the kitchen sink and pours himself a handful of dish soap and rubbing it all over his mouth, trying to wash away any traces of the kiss she just gave him.

When he's finished he looks at his phone and checks an app, making sure everything is in place for his next stop. Grabbing his keys and his wallet he heads out the door.  

“Stupid bitch will learn not to fuck with me!”

[bethanystan]

Newbie | Part 1

Pairing: Eventual Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: DON���T STEAL, STEALING IS BAD

Summary: After a run-in with the police, the reader’s life gets turned upside down, more so than usual.

A/N: FIRST EVER COLLAB WITH MY QUEEN @aseasyasdeanspie! Message me if you want to be tagged!

Word Count: 1700+

 Masterlist

London, England, 2016

 “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” I took a deep breath, quickly trying to find a way out of my situation.

I could run. But I’d never be able to get away from trained policemen with a bleeding leg. I had to think fast, but my mind was blank. This really wasn’t how I expected this little stunt to go. Far from it actually. In truth I thought driving a car would be a lot easier, they make it look easy in movies!

 This whole escapade was never really meant to go so far. I was getting moved care homes. From London to Glasgow because I was getting too old for the home I was in now. I’m not saying I love the home I’m in at the moment, but London is my home. I’ve never lived anywhere else and it’s where my Mum died. If I moved away, I would be leaving her behind.

Angry with the world and their incessant need to bring my unhappiness, I decided to go on a little rebellion. At first, it was just going to be graffiti. But as I approached Hatton Garden, a new idea came into my head. I walked into the first jewellery store, eyeing up all the flashy expensive necklaces and rings. Every inch of this place represented everything I hated right now. The people in here had everything while there were kids like me being pushed from place to place because nobody could give two shits.

 Once I got to the counter, the assistant glared over once before returning to a client on the other side. The diamonds were practically calling out for me when I grabbed them. An alarm went off and I was out.

 Security guards followed but I managed to get away. I needed a quick escape and spotted a parked Bentley, the surprised driver jumped out as soon as I opened the door, leaving the keys inside. It worked for a while, but as police began to show up and I drove faster I began to lose control until I swerved to avoid a family and hit a wall. Where I am now.

The sirens were close now. I could see the lights and it was far too late to do anything now. I clutched the necklace, stuffing it down my bra and sat, awaiting my fate. Two policemen ran over, three dogs and another gang of policemen following quickly behind.

 “Get out of the car with your hands up!” One policeman shouted. I might as well comply, knowing that I’d be better off handing myself over, I’m only 15. I could just pull out the waterworks and I’d be let off with a warning. I push the dented door open, lifted both my arms up and limped out of the smoking car. “Put your hands up!”

 “What do you think I’m doing you twat,” I muttered. Two officers pursue me and forced my hands behind my back.

 “You’re under arrest.”

 “Ah shit.”

 Five hours. Five hours of being questioned over, five hours of complete and utter boredom. I didn’t have a lawyer, I had nobody. I was royally screwed.

 “Now Y/n, I’m gonna ask you again, why did you steal the necklace?” This guy was so close to my face I could see every individual nostril hair he had. Jesus. It’s like a forest up there.

 “Have you ever thought about plucking your nostril hairs? I know a really good salon which gives pensioners a 50% discount, you’re welcome.” I winked. He was not amused. Though his partner seemed to be.A knock on the door, A woman walked in, wearing the beige-est pantsuit known to mankind. She walked up to nostril hairs and whispered something in his ear. The man frowned but didn’t object to whatever she’d said.

 “You have a visitor.” She said, smiling kindly at me. My confident persona dropped slightly, my jaw clenching in confusion. If it was my social worker I was done for, Lord knows what he’d say about this. However, I hadn’t seen him in six months and last I heard he was in France with his fiancee.

 Nervously, I watched the door not listening to what the lady was telling me at all.The door opened again, a figurehead stood in front of me, someone who I definitely didn’t expect, not in a million years. My jaw dropped.A man in a smart suit walked in a smartphone in his hand and sunglasses covering his eyes. He had an air of extremely cool and confidence surrounding him. He chuckled. Lowering his glasses slightly, giving me a once-over.

 “Holy shit! You’re Iron Man?” I gasped, barely believing my own eyes.

 “Tony Stark. You can just call me Tony.” He held his gloved hand out to me,I shook it, still in absolute awe. “Let me take it from here,” He spoke now to the two others in the room. Reluctantly, Nostril-hairs left, glaring between Tony and the woman as he left. The woman smiled, and left, closing the door behind her. We were alone.

 “You really Tony Stark?”

 “Absolutely!”

 “Look, I’m amazed you’re here but, why? You’re, like, a superhero. What are you doing in my questioning?”

 “I’m gonna get you outta here, kid,” I tilted my head slightly.

 “But why?”

 “I need you,”

 “Need me? What, did you want the necklace I stole cus I gave it to the-”

 “No, I need your help on my team. You’re exactly the kind of person I need,”

 “Your team? Your team as in the Avengers? ‘Cus I’ve seen them on TV and they’re awesome,”

“Well, thank you, but don’t worry about it. I’ll explain it all after we get you out of here okay? When they ask you if you know me just smile and nod, I’ve already signed you out of that care home so you can just leave with me. If you want to that is,”

 “Yeah, I mean yes of course. Thank you!”

 “No problem,”

 “But all I know is basic combat, and that was only after a few scraps. Why am I specifically what you need?”

 “I have a gut feeling that you’re special, kid.”

 While I was still not entirely convinced, I did exactly what he said. The woman came back, Laura I learned her name was, Tony talked to her for a while then I was let go. With only a warning too! I had no idea what Tony did but whatever it was, was bloody brilliant!

 Since the accident, my leg has healed; this was not a rare occurrence for me. Paper cuts healed in seconds and anything deep took only a few hours. I’d been told I had a higher metabolic rate than normal people, whatever that meant but I thought of it as my own little superpower. Now I was actually in a car with a real superhero!

For the first time in a long time, I had someone I could trust. Tony was going to help me. And as we sped away in his car, for the first time in a long time, I was hopeful.

 New York, America 2016

 I’ve never been to America. To be totally honest, I’ve never been outside of England before! I’ve never been in a Lamborghini before either, today was just full of surprises. It was pretty exciting.

 New York was nothing like London. The buildings were much more organised, taller, grander, as we drove along the streets of New York my eyes wandered around, I enjoy people watching. It’s my past time really. You never know the person’s backstory just by their appearance, there is always something more.

 “What do you think?” Tony asked.

 “Its-its amazing. Exactly like in the movies!” I was honestly in awe of my surroundings, I can’t believe I’ll be living here. I already start mapping out different routes to shops, sub houses and fast food parlours.

 Once we arrived at t I was taken aback at how large the tower was, I had only seen it on TV. My face must have been giving away my shock, as Tony laughed and had to nearly push me out the car. Tony walked me into the tall building and lead me to an elevator, once inside he picked a floor, seemed to be second to top.

 “FRIDAY?” I jumped from Tony’s sudden proclamation.

 “Yes, sir?” A woman’s voice replied, I looked around and saw nobody. Tony laughed,

“Play some music, please.”

 “Yes, sir.” Thunderstruck started playing.

 “That’s just my AI, FRIDAY, we used to have one called JARVIS, but he was destroyed by the events in Sokovia.” I nodded. I heard about the events in Sokovia, everyone did, it was all over the news. “I have a question for you kid.” I nodded for him to continue. “Why did you steal the diamonds?” I sighed.

 “They were going to transfer me to Glasgow, to a teenage YMCA, I’m almost 16, I didn’t want that, I didn’t want to go to Glasgow. I knew my Mum put me in a London facility for a reason. I was just gonna paint some rude sign on a building but I don’t know... something came over me. I thought if I stole the necklace maybe I could sell it and buy myself a flat of my own so I wouldn’t have to move away,” I tailed over at the end, “ Don’t tell anyone though, don’t want people thinking I’ve gone soft.” I added more happily. I didn’t want Mr Stark to think I was just some sad kid. I was tough. Strong.

 Tony nodded.

 “I’m going to introduce you to a guy known as Spider-Man, heard of him?” Tony asked. I shrugged.

 “Seen some YouTube videos, but he’s not that popular in England.”

 The doors of the elevator opened, it was an open plan living room area with a kitchen on the side. I saw that we weren’t alone. There was a boy there, around my age, looking through the cabinets. He was pretty cute, short brown hair, cheesy science shirt with a pizza on the front, showing the pizza’s diameter and radius. Tony turned towards me.

 “Y/n this is Peter, Peter this is Y/n,”

 “I thought you said he was Spiderman…” I whispered to Tony, “he’s a kid.”

[givemethatgold]

Rescued pt. 2

Summary: After Bucky comes to your aid in a moment of panic you extend an invitation to family dinner. Neither of you could have foreseen how this small act of kindness would alter you, and your life, forever.

Warnings: Mentions of cancer and death, self-harm. Swearing, as always. Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count:1481

Author’s Note: You know how pretentious it feels to refer to myself as an Author?!   As always, massive round of applause to the ever lovely @the-pri-experience @tatortot2701 and @bxckytrxsh whom I adore.

PREVIOUSLY

“What are you doing this weekend?”

He looked a bit surprised and taken aback at your sudden question but Tall Dark and Handsome answered honestly, “Nothing. I don’t really have family here so I usually spend holidays alone.” He shrugged, as if embarrassed, and you only became more determined by his answer.

“Good, that settles it then,” you grin up at him. “You’ll have Good Friday dinner with me.” Quickly writing down your address and phone number you shoved the paper in his hands and began to drive away.

You only made it twenty feet before your car screeched to a halt and you called out, “I’m Y/N, by the way!”

Laughing and shaking his head at the turn of events, he replied, “You can call me Bucky.”

The next morning you barely had time for a cup of coffee before the first of your family members began to arrive. Almost everyone lived in-state but because of your central location and five bedroom house, everyone tended to converge here.

Your oldest brother, and a very pregnant Karen, arrived first. Even though he lived the farthest away Jordan always tried to be first to arrive for three reasons. 1) He wanted first dibs on the loft above the garage, by far the best guest space, 2) he could set booby traps for the others, and 3) he rifled through your snack cupboard and hid all the mini eggs so he wouldn't have to share. 

As he set to work short sheeting the other beds, you set to work making tea for Karen and catching up on all the latest baby and wedding planning news.

You were plating lunch as two trucks pulled up; your other brothers were here. Jack and Michael were the middle kids, identical twins, and always competing. ALWAYS. About e-ver-y-thing. This moment was a perfect example. They lived together but chose to drive separately so they could race.

The front door was thrown open and the boys grown men struggled against each other to be the first inside. Taking a moment to take in his surroundings Jack saw you first and dove towards you, sliding along the hardwood floor the last few feet and slapping your calf.

“I WIN! SUCK IT, MIKEY!”

Already knowing what they were competing for, you rolled your eyes, “Guys, the room with the en-suite is reserved for Mom and Dad, so don’t even bother.”

At this, the twins groaned, glanced at each other, and scrambled on the slippery floor in unison. The fight for the attic was on. You would have missed Jason sneaking out of the kitchen if Karen hadn’t asked what he was up to.

“I may have set a few traps in the wrong room… "and with that he was gone, reversing God knows what from the room your parents would soon take up residence in.

You enjoyed your quiet life in the big house but moments like this were what you lived for. You hoped to fill the home with your own big family, eventually, one day, at some time. You just needed to find a man who could get passed the scrutiny of your three big brothers first.

Might as well get used to the quiet and adopt a few cats…

Once everyone got settled, you put the boys to work. Jack was replacing a few shingles on the roof that had blown off during a big winter storm. Michael was in the kitchen working his magic; the house smelled like fresh bread and you anticipated gaining at least five pounds over the weekend. Jordan was changing the oil in your car and promised to rotate your tires before the weekend was up.

You provided them with food and lodging, but you were very much getting the better end of the bargain.

Your parents arrived just after lunch and everyone piled out of the house to greet them. The festive air had you all joking and smiling but those were wiped off your faces when you saw your mother.

She was pale, gaunt, and even though she was valiantly trying to hide it, you could tell she was in pain. You gasped while reaching for her hand, "Mom… what-what’s wrong?!”

You hadn’t seen her since Christmas, but anything that could destroy her body this aggressively in such a short amount of time had to be bad.

“Let’s get inside.” She smiled at you sadly and patted your hand. “I’ll tell you everything once I’m settled with a strong cuppa in my hands.”

“The cancer has already spread, we caught it too late. Radiation would give me a few more months but my quality of life would be so poor we’ve decided it wouldn’t be worth it.”

The silence in the room was deafening as everyone sat, shocked into silence. Suddenly your heart was being squeezed from the painful realization that your mom was dying. All at once, your emotions flooded through you; swirling around and squeezing your heart. You were afraid of what life would be like without your mom as she was your idol, the family matriarch, your best friend. Images flickered through your mind in rapid fire: all of them important occasions which your mother would no longer be a part of. 

Suddenly, it was all just too much and you felt the overwhelming desire to hide and be alone. Running from the room, you ran upstairs to your bedroom and slammed the door behind you. A sob tore its way up your throat and you sank down to the floor, letting the tears flow and selfishly mourning your future.

Immediately after your tears had dried you became angry. Angry with God, the world, fate. Angry with your parents for giving up and not even trying to fight. Angry at how calm they seemed. Angry at yourself and your selfish crying. It all welled up inside of you, threatening to make you go crazy. Needing an outlet you began punching the wall crying out with rage and splitting the skin of your knuckles. If it hadn’t been the gentle touch of your mom’s hand on your shoulder you don’t know how much destruction you’d have caused.

You weren’t ready to face her yet, knowing that when you did the truth of her illness would be glaringly obvious.

“Y/N, baby, I’m sorry,” she said in a soft voice while running her hands through your hair like she did when you were young. “I might not have a lot of time left, but I’m going to make the most of it. And really,” she chuckled, “it’s not like I haven’t already lived a full life.”

After a few deep breaths, you were able to talk to her and discuss her wishes. Her bucket list perfectly mirrored the way she had lived her life: a bit of everything. From food tasting to roller coaster rides, she even included a horrifying ‘Join the mile high club’ and the ever unrealistic 'watch Y/N get married in my old wedding dress.

“Mom,” you snorted, ever the lady “no offense, but that’s a bit far-fetched, no?”

“What? That dress looks like it was made for you!” 

“You know the dress isn’t the problem. It’s finding a man who won’t run away screaming after meeting the boys.” You deadpanned.

Whatever response your mom might have had was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

“Who…?” You got up off your bed and started heading towards the stairs when you heard your dad answer the door and a deep voice return his greeting.

Bucky! Fuck! You had completely forgotten about your guest amidst the bomb drop and resulting emotional carnage.

“Hi, uhhhhhh… I’m here for dinner? Is this… Is this Y/n’s house?” Bucky stood in the doorway clad in dark demon jeans and a white button-up with the sleeves loosely rolled up. He ran his hands through his hair and held out a pumpkin pie, an act that looked an awful lot like a peace offering. He had a terrible poker face but you found his nervousness endearing.

“Hey, Bucky! You came!” Plastering a smile on your face you silently thanked the intrusion, knowing that a guest would force everyone to focus on the holiday and have a good time.

“Y/N, you’ve been keeping secrets! All that talk upstairs and you’ve got this handsome boy right here.” Your mother prattled on about how happy she was to see you with someone and that she’d rest a lot easier knowing you were being taken care of. “And look!” she exclaimed finally freeing Bucky of his food offering, “He can bake too!”

Your Mom looked so happy; some colour had come back into her cheeks, and there was a new spring in her step that hadn’t been there mere minutes earlier. The thought of destroying the illusion she had just created made your heart ache and you couldn’t find the words to contradict her. 

Turning to Bucky with imploring eyes, you could see that he was already assessing the situation. His gaze went from your red-rimmed eyes to your battered knuckles, then over to your Mom’s wasted frame. The tension in the air still hadn’t dissipated and you would have been shocked if he hadn’t sensed it. You stood there nervously for three hours (or was it only seconds?) for him to react. His next move took you by surprise.

“Hello... babe,” he smiled awkwardly as the endearment came out as more of a question. Walking over to you and throwing his arm around your shoulders he looked towards your parents and waved, “I’m Bucky, you must be Y/N’s grandparents?”

Oh shit.

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Part Three 

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10 Facts About The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

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10 Facts About The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

On its surface, Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is a straightforward story about a boy and a runaway slave floating down the Mississippi River. But underneath, the book—which was published in the U.S. on February 18, 1885—is a subversive confrontation of slavery and racism. It remains one of the most loved, and most banned, books in American history. 

1. HUCKLEBERRY FINN FIRST APPEARS IN TOM SAWYER.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is a sequel to Tom Sawyer, Twain’s novel about his childhood in Hannibal, Missouri. Huck is the “juvenile pariah of the village” and “son of the town drunkard,” Pap Finn. He wears cast-off adult clothes and sleeps in doorways and empty barrels. Despite this, the other children “wished they dared to be like him.” Huck also appears in Tom Sawyer, Detective, and Tom Sawyer Abroad, as well as the unfinished Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer Among the Indians.  

2. HUCKLEBERRY FINN MAY BE BASED ON MARK TWAIN’S CHILDHOOD FRIEND.

Twain said Huck is based on Tom Blankenship, a childhood playmate whose father, Woodson Blankenship, was a poor drunkard and the likely model for Pap Finn. “In Huckleberry Finn I have drawn Tom Blankenship exactly as he was,” he wrote in Autobiography. “He was ignorant, unwashed, insufficiently fed; but he had as good a heart as ever any boy had.” 

However, Twain may be exaggerating here. In 1885, when the Minneapolis Tribune asked who Huck was based on, Twain admitted it was no single person: “I could not point you out the youngster all in a lump; but still his story is what I call a true story.”

3. IT TOOK TWAIN SEVEN YEARS TO WRITE THE NOVEL.

Huckleberry Finn was written in two short bursts. The first was in 1876, when Twain wrote 400 pages that he told his friend he liked “only tolerably well, as far as I have got, and may possibly pigeonhole or burn” the manuscript. He stopped working on it for several years to write The Prince and the Pauper and Life on the Mississippi.

In 1882, Twain took a steamboat ride on the Mississippi from New Orleans to Minnesota, with a stop in Hannibal. It must have inspired him, because he dove into finishing Huckleberry Finn. In August 1883, he wrote: “I have written eight or nine hundred manuscript pages in such a brief space of time that I mustn’t name the number of days; I shouldn’t believe it myself, and of course couldn’t expect you to.” The book was published in 1884. 

4. LIKE HUCK, TWAIN CHANGED HIS VIEW OF SLAVERY.

Huck, who grows up in South before the Civil War, not only accepts slavery, but believes that helping Jim run away is a sin. The moral climax of the novel is when Huck debates whether to send Jim’s owner a letter detailing Jim’s whereabouts. Finally, Huck says, “All right, then, I’ll go to hell,” and tears the letter up. 

As a child, Twain didn’t question the institution of slavery. Not only was Missouri a slave state, his uncle owned 20 slaves. In Autobiography, Twain wrote, “I vividly remember seeing a dozen black men and women chained to one another, once, and lying in a group on the pavement, awaiting shipment to the Southern slave market. Those were the saddest faces I have ever seen.”

At some point, Twain’s attitudes changed and he married into an abolitionist family. His father-in-law, Jervis Langdon, was a “conductor” on the Underground Railroad and housed Frederick Douglass.

5. EMMELINE GRANGERFORD IS A PARODY OF A VICTORIAN POETASTER.

Huckleberry Finn parodies adventure novels, politics, religion, the Hatfields and the McCoys, and even Hamlet’s soliloquy. But most memorable may be Emmeline Grangerford, the 15-year-old poet. Emmeline is a parody of Julia A. Moore, the “Sweet Singer of Michigan,” who wrote bad poetry about death. So does Emmeline, according to Huck: “Every time a man died, or a woman died, or a child died, she would be on hand with her “tribute” before he was cold. She called them tributes.” Along with bad poetry, Emmeline paints “crayons” of dramatic subjects, such as a girl “crying into a handkerchief” over a dead bird with the caption, “I Shall Never Hear Thy Sweet Chirrup More Alas.”

6. A PENIS DRAWING ALMOST RUINED THE BOOK.

Twain, who ran his own printing press, hired 23-year-old E. W. Kemble to illustrate the first edition of Huckleberry Finn. Right as the book went to press, someone—it was never discovered who—added a penis to the illustration of Uncle Silas. The engraving shows Uncle Silas talking to Huck and Aunt Sally while a crude penis bulges from his pants. 

According to Twain’s business manager Charles Webster, 250 books were sent out before the mistake was caught. They were recalled and publication was postponed for a reprint. If the full run had been sent out, Webster said, Twain’s “credit for decency and morality would have been destroyed.” You can view Kemble’s original illustrations here.

7. MANY CONSIDER HUCKLEBERRY FINN THE FIRST AMERICAN NOVEL.

“All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain called Huckleberry Finn,” Ernest Hemingway wrote in Green Hills Of Africa. “There was nothing before. There has been nothing as good since.” 

While this statement ignores great works like Moby-Dick and The Scarlet Letter, Huckleberry Finn was notable because it was the first novel to be written in the American vernacular. Huck speaks in dialect, using phrases like “it ain’t no matter” or “it warn’t no time to be sentimentering.” Since most writers of the time were still imitating European literature, writing the way Americans actually talked seemed revolutionary. It was language that was clear, crisp, and vivid, and it changed how Americans wrote. 

8. THE END OF THE BOOK IS OFTEN CONSIDERED A COP-OUT.

A major criticism of Huckleberry Finn is that the book begins to fail when Tom Sawyer enters the novel. Up until that point, Huck and Jim have developed a friendship bound by their mutual plight as runaways. We believe Huck cares about Jim and has learned to see his humanity. But when Tom Sawyer comes into the novel, Huck changes. He becomes passive and doesn’t even seem to care when Jim is captured.

To make matters worse, it turns out that Jim’s owner has already set him free, and that Huck’s abusive dad is dead. Essentially, Huck and Jim have been running away from nothing. Many, including American novelist Jane Smiley, believe that by slapping on a happy ending, Twain was ignoring the complex questions his book raises.

9. THE BOOK IS FREQUENTLY BANNED.

Huckleberry Finn was first banned in Concord, Massachussets in 1885 (“trash and suitable only for the slums”) and continues to be one of the most-challenged books.

The objections are usually over n-word, which occurs over 200 times in the book. Others say that the portrayal of African Americans is stereotypical, racially insensitive, or racist.

In 2011, Stephen Railton, a professor at University of Virginia, published a version of the book that replaced that offensive word with “slave.” Soon after appeared The Hipster Huckleberry Finn, where the word was replaced with “hipster.” The book’s description says, “the adventures of Huckleberry Finn are now neither offensive nor uncool.”

10. TWAIN HAD SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT THE BOOK’S CENSORSHIP.

In 1905, the Brooklyn Public Library removed Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer from the shelves because, as librarian wrote Twain, Huck is “a deceitful boy who said ‘sweat’ when he should have said ‘perspiration.'” Here’s Twain’s reply: 

DEAR SIR:

I am greatly troubled by what you say. I wrote Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn for adults exclusively, and it always distresses me when I find that boys and girls have been allowed access to them. The mind that becomes soiled in youth can never again be washed clean; I know this by my own experience, and to this day I cherish an unappeasable bitterness against the unfaithful guardians of my young life, who not only permitted but compelled me to read an unexpurgated Bible through before I was 15 years old. None can do that and ever draw a clean sweet breath again this side of the grave. Ask that young lady—she will tell you so.

Most honestly do I wish I could say a softening word or two in defence of Huck’s character, since you wish it, but really in my opinion it is no better than those of Solomon, David, Satan, and the rest of the sacred brotherhood. 

If there is an unexpurgated Bible in the Children’s Department, won’t you please help that young woman remove Huck and Tom from that questionable companionship?

Sincerely yours,

S. L. Clemens