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ushiwakaout · 8 months ago

Note

Yooooo. I’m feeling kinda in a angst mood so I want to like politely ask maybe a argument scenario from like angst to fluff? For kita, Atsumu, Osamu, and Suna. Or you can just do one. Love yuh lots.

I’ll make these short and good so you can get the whole experience with 3 of them.

TIME SKIP!

SPOILERS!

BETA DRAFT! srry.

[Osamu is a little ooc tbh but i think out of all the haikyuu boys he’d be the most poetic and im leaving out Suna because i cannot seem to write him correctly for the life of me, i am not satisfied.]

Shinsuke Kita

He’s not emotional. We know this. He’s apathetic, and you knew this the second you got into this relationship so why are you arguing with him. He finds this pointless. He breathes heavily and pinches the ridge of his nose, “Don’t do that! You said you would do better and you haven’t! Are you even listening to me?”

“If you don’t like what we’ve got then just leave!” He slaps his sun hat on the table, his gloves are still on. Kita literally just got back from a long, hot, exhausting day at the rice farm.

He didn’t mean to yell, and he didn’t mean the words that slipped out his mouth. It was too late. He knew that. Kita stared at his shoes, not daring to look at you. “Seriously? Kita? You promised me you’d try be more expressive with me…”

He tugs at you heart strings when he keeps his head down, he’s squeezing the chair nearby and it’s making his knuckles white. “Kita…” You try to cup his cheek, making an effort to try and get him to look at you but he swatted your hand away.

“That’s enough y/n, I don’t need you to babysit my emotions and the way i express things.”

Oh now you where upset.

You took a couple of steps back in disbelief, “I understand that you’ve been having a difficult time at the farm but that’s not an excuse for being a shit boyfriend… How about i take a load off your shoulders- we’re done Shinsuke, I-I’ve had enough…”

He doesn’t stop you from collecting your things. He doesn’t stop you from walking out the door.

It slams shut and he’s just standing there, in his empty kitchen. His house is a ghost of you. Every corner had been decorated by you. So he looks to the floor.

Tears fall to his shoes and he’s shaking.

It’s from crying he thinks, but the more he cries the harder he was shaking.

“Kita.”

Your soft whisper breaks him from a nightmare.

His cheeks are wet.

He was crying. But it wasn’t real.

“Kita? What’s wrong honey? You were having a nightmare…”

His head was still resting on your chest, the same position he was originally in before his nightmare. You caressed his hair. He loved feeling your fingers run through your hair. He felt safe. Kita tightened his hold around you, “I’m okay now.” He whispered, kissing the closes part of you before nuzzling back into your chest. “I love you, y/n… i know i can be a little apathetic… but i care for you the most in this world.”

Atsumu Miya

He’s always been a ladies man.

You hate how stupid good looking he is.

It makes you feel insecure sometimes how much he gets hit on and you don’t. “It’s because he’s respected in the male community.” His twin brother spoke. “Everyone knows your his partner… so they back off.” It made your head hurt.

At a large volleyball gathering, you decided to wear something a little more eye catching. He thinks nothing of it, he tells you how amazing you look and you’re off to the party.

He’s pissed that he’s brought you now.

Who the hell told him it would be a good idea to bring his freaking partner. Osamu laughed at him when he mentioned something about it. “Now you can finally see how y/n feels…” Atsumu raised a brow. “What do you mean by that?”

Osamu regrets speaking. He lets out a sigh, “Y/n been feeling insecure lately. They don’t like the way you instigate things with them, that your flirty or that you look at them for that matter-“

Atsumu began waving his hands, trying to get him to stop speaking “You sure they didn’t you you were me? T-they wouldn’t keep something like that from me...” He glances over at you, a man from a different team was making your laugh. You fixed your hair shyly as you smile to the man who talks to you.

Before Osamu could try and stop his brother from doing anything stupid. He hand already marched towards you. “Uh yeah excuse me- this is my partner and we are leaving, thank you for keeping her company-”

“Atsunu what the fu-”

He’s dragging you out of the building and you don’t struggle, he was never one to run out of a party so the suden rush prevented you from even thinking of stopping him.

“Atsumu can you please tell me what the hell we’re doing out here! I’m freezing!”

His hand was still squeezing your bicep, “Why did Osamu have to tell me that you’ve been feeling insecure.”

You freeze. This was not, a conversation you wanted to have. Not now especially.

“Can we not- Can we not do this here, please?”

“No, i thought we didn’t hide stuff from eachother.”

“Atsumu-”

“It’s me right? Because i pretend with them-”

You’re stuttering and stumbling threw your worlds as he continues to speak.”

“Did they say something to you, I swear-”

“I DONT FEEL GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!”

You blurted out, grabbing at fabric of his shirt. “I don’t think i even have…” You’re looking at your feet now. “I know you don’t see the things they say about me for dating you, but it’s mean… I wanna give you so much love but how much sanity will i have left… they pick at me for every little thing i do, wrong or right. I love you ‘Sumu… I really do but I don’t know know how much more i can take.”

He’s the one frozen now.

“You’re not breaking up with me.”

“What-”

“Like hell you’re breaking up with me. Give me 5 minutes… stay here… please.”

He kisses the tip of your nose while squeezing both of you’re shoulders.

You’re standing there confused and sad. Sniffling and cold air brushed your chilled skin. From inside the building you could see through the glass door how he paced back in forth and spoke into the phone. it wasn’t long before he came back out.

Once we was in front of you, he cupped your hands on his. “Do you love me?” He kisses your wrist. You nod, sniffling back a tear. “Good. Do you trust me?” He kisses your other wrist, you nod again- almost choking on your breath. “I called my agent… He’s calling a press meeting for me, and i’m going to state that if any network, any fan girl, any article writes poorly about you- they will be sued by me every single time. We’ve already got a few people in mind, the paper work will go through tomorrow.”

“Sumu… you didn’t have to do any of that.”

“I will rather quit volleyball, then have you break up with me, because of an issue i can fix.” He kisses your cheek softly. “You’re perfect for me, i won’t let other make you think otherwise.”

Osamu Miya

He couldn’t close on time again.

He cursed under his breath, running towards the restaurant that you had originally picked out. He let the hostess know your name but her lips tightened and she shook her head. “You’ve just missed em, drank a glass of [liquor] and then made their way out… Sorry.” Her apology was apathetic.

He walked out the establishment and once he heard the door close behind him, he cursed loudly into the air.

He tried calling your phone but it didn’t even ring. It was off or worse he was blocked. It was late, the trains where no longer running so he walked himself home in his suit. Osamu quickly had put it on, and it was clear that he did because it was wrinkled and his tie was not tied correctly. It took him about an hour to get home. The one you shared.

He had a gut feeling before he opened the door. So he stood there, his hands in his pockets. Your stuff would be picked up and gone. He was with you because he loved that you had such a strong head on your shoulders… you wouldn’t take it any longer. Today, one-hundred percent, was the final straw.

3 year anniversary.

He let his forehead drop to the door, making a light thud. He gripped the little box in his pocket.

The reason he had been working like a dog, day and night.

This stupid little ring.

It was perfect too. He knew exactly what you liked, what you wanted. It was way over over his budget but he’s do anything for you.

“Osamu? Is that you?” Your voice chirped from behind the door. His head shot up and looked ahead. “Y/n?” You unlocked the door, slowly revealing that you had changed into you pjs, eyes swollen from crying. “I waited for you…” You whispered, your voice breaking in the process.

God he hates himself. He hated himself for making you like his. “y/n im so sorry…” he whispered. “please forgive me…” he dropped to his knees, his body lightly brushing yours as he held you. “i shouldn’t have been late, i should have never missed any of our dates… please give me one more chance, please hear me out...”

he backs up and props up a knee, digging into his pocket. there’s a shift in your eyes that he notices, “Don’t freak out, this isn’t me trying to tie you down that way… not necessarily…”

he clears his throat, opening the box that was in his hand, displaying it to you. “there is no one in the world… no one… i would rather be with than you. i can’t see myself with anyone else. i would be the luckiest man in the world if you married me, but this- you can say no to this…”

you’re still frozen, tears falling down your cheeks, sniffling. “I want to earn you… i don’t deserve you right now… i’ve been the worse boyfriend there is… there’s no excuse for it but all those nights i’ve been working late have been for you- and you only… i’m sorry i couldn’t communicate that with you. let me earn you again… let me show you that i am worth being your husband.”

you start nodding slowly, sinking down onto your knees to kiss him. “I’ll promise i’ll be better.” he says in between stolen kisses as he slips the tin onto your finger.

Author Note: My request are open!!! Please do fill free to ask for something.

i did lie

i came back from the dead

i write for haikyuu, jjk, chainsaw man and MHA primarily <3

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dyinglikenarcissus · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 6. All Good Things Come to those Who Can Wait

7k words

Warnings: 18+ only. Virgin’s first time. It starts off gentle but it definitely gets rough

Please like and reblog if you enjoy ☺️

There’s a knock at your door far too early in the morning. You scrub your eyes and try to discern if it was part of a dream or real life.

Another knock makes you finally sit up.

You blink around your bedroom blearily. You weren’t expecting any packages or visitors. Maybe it was surprise PR…

You finally kick your feet to the floor and shuffle to the living room. You pull the step stool you keep near the door in place and check who’s outside.

“Bucky?” You whisper to yourself. Jethro chirps happily next to you as if confirming the visitor is his favorite babysitter.

“Good morning, princess!” He greets far too cheerfully for this early in the morning. “Were you asleep?”

“Who isn’t? It’s 5am on a Saturday,” you mumble and fall into his hug.

“It’s a good thing I brought you coffee,” he laughs and hands you a Dutch Bros cup. This is the most cheerful you’ve seen him since your wedding day. And he stopped up north for this? “I need you to pack up your shit and the pipsqueak.”

Your eyes widen at the statement. What did that mean? Were there more feds? Is there another trial? Are you running from someone?

“What’s going on?” You frown up at the giant brunet. “Is something… happening?”

Bucky snorts out a laugh. “No. You’re going on vacation.”

“Vacation? What? Now? Where? It’s almost Halloween! And the wedding!”

Bucky gives you a pointed look. He still hasn’t had that talk apparently.

“Am I going to Disney Shanghai?” You ask, changing the subject quickly.

“No.”

“Then I’m good.”

“Girl, if you don’t go pack your stuff!” Sam calls as he enters the door. You cry out his name and jump into his arms. “It’s been far too long,” he laughs into your hair.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

“We missed you, too.”

“Even Bucky?” You laugh.

“I may have missed Jethro more. All you do is steal my best friend and eat hot chips,” the brunet jokes as he scoops up your cat. “But I do miss our coffee runs.”

“He stopped going to Starbucks after you moved back home.”

“It’s because they support Israel or something. I’m trying to be proactive.”

“Yeah, right. And not because I told you that on the flight over,” Sam smirks.

“I know stuff!” Bucky defends himself. You giggle at their antics. You didn’t realize how much you missed them.

“What am I packing for exactly?” You ask, stopping an argument from breaking out.

“It’s a surprise,” Sam grins.

“But bring plenty of swimsuits."

“And sunscreen.”

“And if you have one of those big sun hats like the girls on Insta have, you might want to bring one of those.”

“Okay, so beach maybe? There’s a beach 30 minutes from here. Why do I need to go anywhere?”

“Why do you have to be so difficult?” Bucky sighs. You roll your eyes at his statement.

“How long?”

“However long you want,” Sam smiles.

“You know, Steve promised no more surprises after Sausalito,” you sigh and cross your arms over your chest. The man gets locked up for a couple of years and it’s like everything he said was forgotten.

“Yeah, well, Stevie ain’t here,” Bucky grins.

“And unless your grandpa was murdered on a private island, we doubt you’ll be upset.”

“Private island?”

“See! Now you’ve told her!” Bucky sighs and falls onto your couch. “Oh shit! No shoes in the house, huh?” He asks and starts pulling off his shoes and tosses them near the door.

“Steve did say no surprises,” Sam shrugs and slips off his shoes. “Do you need help packing?”

You let out a deep sigh. It’s not like you had things planned…

“No. Just give me a couple of hours.”

“Take your time,” Sam bids.

“You got Netflix?” Bucky asks making himself comfortable.

“Nope. Just Disney, Discovery, and Amazon. Watch the Property Brother,” you laugh as you walk into your bedroom.

“The new season of The Boys started,” you hear Sam state as you walk away.

An unknown time on a private island. What do I even pack?

A couple of hours later, you start cleaning the toilets and the kitchen. You don’t want to leave your little condo in a state that looked like it was lived in. You mother would turn over in her grave.

“Okay, guys. I’m going to run the trash outside and I’ll be ready.”

“I got it,” Bucky grunts and stands up.

“Are you sure? Do you know where it is?”

“No. But I’m sure you’ll tell me.” You giggle and give him instructions on the trash and recycling before ushering Jethro into his carrier.

“Okay. Chargers? Cell phones? Camera? Cables…yeah. Oh! Almost forget your lime!” You exclaim and start to look around for the catnip lime toy. You get on the floor to look under the couch.

“Why is there a lime under the couch?” Sam laughs.

“It’s a toy. Kamala got it for him for his birthday and he loves it.”

“Like that one under the curtain?”

You whip around to see where’s he’s pointing.

“That’s it!” You crawl over to it and toss it in a bag with the rest of his food and toys. “Alright. I think I’m ready now.” Bucky returns just as the words leave your mouth.

“About damn time,” the brunet sighs. “I wanna go home.”

“I’m not the one who burst into your house at 5 am and told someone to pack for an unknown amount of time to go to some beach. Could be rainy. Could be hot. Could be cold. Who knows! I had to wash my clothes and my towels-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Relax,” Sam plays referee as usual, taking your bag and ushering everyone out the door. “You’re going to love this. Don’t waste your energy fighting him. That’s all he wants.”

You roll your eyes and glare at Bucky before pressing past him with Jethro on your shoulder.

You do have to admit: you miss this. Sam and Bucky checked in on you about once a month. But it was always a quick phone call to see if you needed anything or to make sure you got the money they sent you.

Steve did promise to take care of you. You didn’t know ‘taking care’ meant you were now making six figures for being a man’s wife.

This must be what the trad wives are aspiring to have. And you don’t even have to cook and clean to get it.

You finally get to fall back asleep on the plane, curled up on the seat as Jethro plays in the cabin. You aren’t sure what Bucky and Sam are up to and you honestly couldn’t care less. You were exhausted.

The plane eventually lands at a tiny airport somewhere in South America.

“You gotta take a boat from here, princess,” Bucky sighs after waking you up and you ask what’s going on.

“You can keep Jethro if you want or we can take him back to New York,” Sam offers.

“Wait. Are you two leaving me?” You ask.

“It’s a short ride. You’ll be fine. You’re a big girl,” Bucky smirks.

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’ll keep my cat, thank you very much.”

“You sure? You might just want to relax,” Sam offers. You’ve never met two men who thought your cat was such a burden.

“No. What do you think he’s going to do? He’s a cat,” You laugh

“Just making sure,” Sam grins

“You two are being so weird.”

The two of them escort you and your luggage to a yacht docked at the ocean.

“Alright, princess. Be good. Have fun. Don’t do anything crazy,” Bucky bids giving you a half hug.

“Have fun. Enjoy the weather. It should be pretty mild this week,” Sam grins before pulling you into a bear hug.

“Too bad you two have to head back,” you sigh. “You could’ve told me to bring a friend.”

“Nah, this trip is all about peace and quiet.”

Peace and quiet, huh?

You’ve been running from that for two years. Peace and quiet only brought of thoughts of regret and longing and how much you missed him…

Yeah, you’ll definitely need Jethro.

You wave your goodbyes and find a spot on the upper deck to watch the waves.

Shit. You had no idea he would get seasick.

You eye his carrier dubiously before asking the captain, “How long is the ride?”

“About 20 minutes, ma’am.”

He can handle it for 20 minutes…

He could not handle 20 minutes. Suddenly this thrust upon you vacation can’t end fast enough.

Your head is splitting by the time you made dock. You rush after the captain to get on dry land. You don’t even notice the world around you as you rush inside.

“Okay, baby. Okay. Just give me a second.” You find the first room that seems to be closed off and release the poor cat just for him to throw up on the tile floor. “Oh, baby,” you coo and rub his back. Hopefully there are plenty of paper towels in this house. “Mommy’s sorry. Let it out.” He throws up again and starts to walk off. He must be done.

“Okay. Stay here. Don’t touch that. I’ll be right back.”

You leave the room, closing the door behind you. You find the paper towels and thank the captain for bringing in your luggage before tending to your cat and finally taking a chance to breathe.

He put your stuff in the master bedroom which gave you the chance to explore the house.

Wow!

It really is beautiful. This must be one of Steve’s millions of homes. Completely modern fixtures, an infinite pool that ended at the ocean. Not another soul for miles. And the land outside was a lush jungle. You expected a little monkey to pop out a tree at any moment.

Maybe Sam and Bucky were onto something when they sent you out here. Your creativity was waning lately. Your channel was suffering but you honestly just weren’t interested in anything. You kind of just wanted to live. It was nice that you didn’t have to rely on a pay check anymore and you could finally focus on what you wanted to do.

But you had not idea what you wanted to do…

You sigh as you finish unpacking and finally release your cat from confinement.

“You feeling better?” You ask him as he rubs against your legs. It was easier just to let him recoup in isolation than to have him throwing up all over the house.

“Are you hungry?” He chirps happily. You step into the fully stocked kitchen fill a bowl with his cat food before stipulating your own meal. They even got your favorite chips and sour candy! And Biscoff cookie butter! You snatch the tub and spoon and let out a content sigh before feeding your cat.

There’s a fresh platter of sushi and sesame chicken in refrigerator just waiting for you. You microwave the chicken and grab a glass of rosé and make your way out to the patio.

Your food is all set up but the view is calling to you. You can’t help but lean over the railing and watch the sunset over the ocean.

Jethro slinks through the open door and rubs against your leg before letting out a happy chirp.

“It’s beautiful, huh?” You ask the cat, bending down to scratch his head.

“I’ll never get over that view.”

You stiffen at that voice. You know that voice. It wasn’t Sam or Bucky or even Natasha or Scott.

This was a voice you hadn’t heard in over two years.

The tears start to prickle your eyes before you even look at him.

You turn slowly.

There he is. Leaning against the door frame, big arms crossed across his broad chest. His blond hair is perfectly done as it had always been. That thick beard was back in full force. His ocean eyes sparkle as he watches you, giving you a quick once over before a smirk graces his full lips.

“Ocean’s pretty nice, too.”

You rush into his arms. He lets out a soft oof as he catches you and you wrap your legs around his hips.

“Missed you so much, star,” Steve sighs into your hair.

“Missed you,” you mutter into his neck. The tears start to fall but you just cling to him even tighter.

Steve chuckles lightly and sits down on the bed. “I’m not going to disappear. Promise.”

“Don’t trust you,” you sniffle.

“I don’t blame you.” He holds you like that for a moment while you take him all in. His scent, his solid body under you, the feel of him.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal,” Steve mutters as he strokes your hair, gripping your twists lightly as his fingers tangle there.

“Oh!” You sit up to watch him. “Are you hungry? There was a bunch of food in the fridge so I figured it was for me.”

“You were going to eat my sushi?” Steve asked so seriously that you tense up.

“Was it yours?” You asks sheepishly.

“You think I would just order myself food and nothing for my wife?” He smirks.

Your shoulders relax and you let out a laugh. “I wonder about you a lot,” you counter.

“Such a fucking smart ass.” You can’t help but smile and tuck your face back into his neck. “Let’s go eat.”

You get him a plate and a glass of whiskey.

He immediately takes a sip and groans in pleasure. “That’s good,” he sighs.

“What was it like being locked up?” You asked sheepishly.

“Not terrible actually. I was on like the lightest level. I had my own apartment, a chef, a maid, a full gym. People came to visit all the time even though I asked them not to. It was like being at home but under constant surveillance. I even had a cell phone,” he chuckles.

You just watch him for a second processing what he said. It didn’t sound any different than regular life. Except for one thing.

“You never asked to see me?”

He lets out a heavy sigh before running his fingers through his hair. “Star, I missed you so much. Part of me was gone. But I know you and I knew you couldn’t be there.”

“What?” You bark.

“You never listen and you have to always ask a million questions. Especially after a direct order not to talk about something.”

“A direct order?”

“Star, I know you told your friends everything. I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

“I don’t owe you anything, Steve! I’m not one of your lackeys!”

“No, you’re not. But I’d rather not see you for two years than have conjugal visits for the rest of my life!” You blink at him at his out burst before averting your gaze.

“I just wish I knew what was going on,” you whisper, pushing your empty plate away.

He sighs again and stands up, taking the empty plates. “I’m going to work on it. I don't want anymore secrets between us.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He places a kiss on your forehead as he walks back inside the house. You let him handle it. He spent two years being catered to on the government’s dime. He can cater to you for an evening.

You cross your legs and pull out your phone. You feel extremely conflicted all of the sudden. You were so happy to have your husband. But all you can do is be upset with him…

You groan and scrub your eyes.

Steve returns about ten minutes later with his sleeves rolled up showing off his massive forearms and making your mouth water. You almost forget why you’re mad at him…

He holds out his hand for you. “Come on. Let’s go sit by the water.”

You ignore his hand and stand up to lead the way outside. You hear Steve sigh and he catches your hand, not letting you get too far without him.

“We’re on an island alone. No one’s going to attack me,” you bite, glaring at his hand.

“God forbid I missed my wife after two years,” Steve bites back.

“You could’ve had me whenever you wanted.”

“If I was in there for life, I could never get my vasectomy reversed! We could never have a kid! I’d be in maximum security and couldn’t see you as often as I want-“

“Why couldn’t you just trust me?” You turn on him.

“I’m sorry!” He shouts back. “Okay? I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I didn’t even give you the chance. I’m sorry I kept so much from you. I should have let you in. I just-I’m just-“ He lets out a frustrated growl before releasing your hand and stalking toward the water.

Shit.

He’s never done that before. Your calm, cool, collected husband seems to have finally snapped.

Maybe you should call Sam or Bucky…

No! This is your husband. You can handle this. You refill his glass and top off your wine and follow him out to the beach. You find him sitting in an Adirondack chair staring off into the horizon. You missed seeing him like this. His golden hair shines in the dimming light. His bright blue eyes glitter slightly.

You take a deep breath before stepping up to him.

“I’m sorry,” you offer handing him his drink. “I was kind of intense. You just got home and I’m stressing you out.”

He gives you a once over before accepting the drink and pulling you into his lap.

“Don’t apologize. I’m…broken. It’s not your fault.”

You sigh softly as you fall into lap. “You’re not broken. You’re just old and your back and knees hurt.” He lets out a soft chuckle at that. At least you can still make him laugh. “I told you before we got married that I want to be your peace. I want to be your confidant. You told me I had to earn that. I was so weak after the wedding. I made a mistake but I didn’t tell anyone else. They promised not to tell anyone else. I obeyed. I did as I was told for two years. I think I’ve earned something.”

“You have, star.” He takes a deep breath and a swig of his drink. “Alright. Where do I start?”

“The beginning,” you prompt and get comfortable.

“Okay. Well, Bucky was abducted by this guy name Johann. His street name is Red Skull. He runs this nazi gang called Hydra in Europe.”

“What?” You ask skeptically.

“Yeah. I know right? Racism does indeed still exist. Sam and I thought Buck was dead for years. Everyone said he was dead. We had a funeral and everything. Bucky was my yes man and I needed some kind of muscle. Sam tried to step in when he could but he’s such a pacifist. Always trying to help people. I needed someone that would fuck someone up, no questions asked. One day, along comes this guy named Rumlow.”

“He’s the one the FBI guy asked about?” Your eyes widened at the revolution and that you have some degree of knowledge about the characters in his story.

“The one and only,” Steve sighs bitterly. “Tony recommended him. Said he’s got nothing but love for the guy. He was trying to get out of California so he came to me. I put him through the ringer. Had him sell drugs to cops, smuggle stuff from overseas, print weapons. He did it all flawlessly. I don’t know, maybe a year goes by and I finally let him into the circle. All is going good until I hear about Tony and his big ugly tower in Manhattan.

“Tony and his family have always kept to the west coast. Fury ruled the East until I took over. This tower was like a war declaration and shit hit the fan. Alliances were tested. Rumlow didn’t make the cut,” He states simply.

“What happened?” You ask softly.

“I don’t tolerate double crossers. He had one foot in my camp, one foot in Tony’s, one in Hydra’s, and one in the feds.”

Shit! “He's a government nazi?”

“Was.”

“Shit,” you whisper out loud this time. This was legitimate gang stuff. No wonder this Rumlow guy it was so important.

“It brought about the rare occasion of Tony and I working together.”

“So, that’s why he came to the wedding?” Steve hums positively while running his fingers along the grain of the chair’s arm. “And you guys are a united force?”

“For now. It’s shaky.”

You take a deep breath. “Wow,” you sigh out.

“And you, my little star, happened to be filming your little video on my dock at the exact same moment I was taking care of mine and Tony’s ‘problem’.”

“What was even on my video because I didn’t hear anything?”

This was it. Your chance to finally get an answer to this three year dilemma.

“Tony’s yacht, Rumlow’s car, the address which was mine. All in one place after Rumlow was last seen at his New York office.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Steve smirks.

“And all this time I thought you were over reacting.” Steve lifts his brows in silent disagreement. “Okay. From this point, no more secrets?”

“No more secrets,” Steve agrees. He tucks a finger under your chin directing your gaze to his. “That means you, too. Sam said you’ve been playing fast and loose with my black card.”

Your face heats.

“I didn’t think you’d find out about that,” you whisper.

“You didn’t think I’d wonder where a million dollars went?”

“No! No! Sam told me to help out with the philanthropy thing so I did!”

“And I want to hear it from you,” he smirks.

“Okay, well,” you start defensively, crossing your arms over your chest. “I donated a wing at UCLA for Kahhori’s Choctaw program. And I donated to Marvel’s women of color program so Kamala can write her own story. And I made a scholarship program for Kate’s archery school so 100 students can go tuition free.”

“Very nice, star,” Steve smiles. “But there’s about $10 grand unaccounted for.”

“What?” You whisper.

His ocean eyes narrow. “On February 10, to a Dr. Steven Strange in Beverly Hills?”

“Oh, that,” you laugh nervously. “Um, I honestly didn’t think you would notice that.” Especially because it came out of your bank account…

“Well, I did. Talk.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “I got a breast augmentation.”

“A breast augmentation?” He repeats as formally as you said it making you smile. His fingers strum along your hip comfortably.

“Yes. A breast augmentation.”

“Do I get to see them?”

“I mean, you technically paid for them,” you concede.

“It’s still your body.”

“I want you to see them,” you whisper.

“Oh, you want me to see them?” He grins, gripping your hips with both hands so you’re straddling his waist. You smile, biting your bottom lip and nod.

You squirm in his lap for a moment before removing your shirt. You didn’t know your husband would be seeing them or you would’ve worn a nicer bra. But you glance down at your new Ds in your simple t-shirt bra before looking back up at him.

His eyes are focused solely on your chest as his pupils dilate slightly.

“I wish I wore something more lacy for you,” you lament.

He glances up at your face before his eyes flick back down.

His silence is a little unnerving.

“Do you like them?”

“Can I take your bra off?”

“Well, yeah. I guess.” His hands slide up your waist to your back.

“You guess? Give me an answer, star.”

“Yes, you can take off my bra,” you giggle.

He hums positively and uses one hand to unhook the bit of cloth. They fall naturally with out the support to perky mounds.

“Can I touch?”

“You are being so respectful,” you laugh.

“I’m not a monster. Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I own you.”

“Steve, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“Oh, don’t say that, star. I’ll actually listen.” His hands finally cup your breasts and his thumbs brush over your nipples.

You shudder slightly in his grip. “Sensitive?” You nod, biting your bottom lip and gripping his shoulders.

“Do you like them?” You ask. There’s a slight whine in your voice that you can’t stop after having your husband’s hands back on you after so long.

“Give me a chance to give ‘em a test drive. So impatient.” He squeezes them tentatively then presses them together. “They feel great,” he states like he has something more to say but is holding back.

“But?”

He gives you a look that tells you he’s about to hurt your feelings.

“But,” he takes a sharp inhale and you steel yourself for the blow. “I think you could’ve gone a little bigger.” You smack his hands away at that and he lets out an amused chuckle as you cover yourself.

“They’re great for playing with but how can you wrap them around my dick?”

“They were never meant to be wrapped around any dicks!” You protest. “Especially not yours!”

He continues to laugh and his hands fall back to your hips. “There’s my girl. I was afraid you lost your edge without me around to push your buttons.”

“It’s still present and accounted for,” you huff.

“Don’t play mad,” he smirks, tucking a finger under your chin.

“I’m not playing.”

“They’re perfect. They look beautiful on you. You look beautiful no matter what, but you know that.”

You continue to pout.

“Hey,” he directs your attention to him, gripping your chin so you’ll comply. “You know you’re my beautiful star, right?”

You watch him for a moment before finally nodding in defeat. He hums positively. “Im glad they gave you the confidence boost you were looking for.”

“I love them,” you finally smile.

“I love that you love them.” He pulls you to his lips for a gentle kiss that quickly turns deeper.

“Are we done talking?” He asks, rubbing his hands up and down your hips.

“No! We’re actually married now. We have a whole relationship to flesh out.”

Steve smiles softly. “That can wait. I need my wife now.”

His fingers tuck into your shorts and you quickly stop him. “Hold on! I’ve been traveling all day. Can I take a shower first?”

Steve smiles softly. “On one condition: I can join you?” You grin and nod.

The two of you clean up the remnants of your meal and you finish unpacking, filling the master bathroom with your toiletries.

Right next to his.

This felt like a big step. You could poke though his lotions, what kind of toothpaste he uses, his face wash and body wash. He seemed like a simple man based on his toiletries. Dove combination body wash, shampoo, and conditioner, Cetaphil face wash, Vaseline lotion. Oh? He uses Sauvage? No wonder he smelt so good.

You inhale the bottle’s spritzer and Steve walks in catching you red handed.

“You like it?” He asks with a lifted brow.

“Yeah,” you laugh sheepishly.

“Good. I like yours too.” You giggle and he steps next to you to pick up your perfume bottle. “I tried the cologne version of this a while back. I don’t think it mixed with my chemistry.”

“I can’t imagine anything smelling bad on you.”

He presses a kiss to you forehead. You both place the bottles down back next to each other. “I better warm up the water for you.”

“Thank you,” you sigh.

You toy with the hem of your shirt. He just saw you topless. This should be easy…

He unbuttons his shirt and tosses it in a clothes hamper. His undershirt and pants quickly follow. He gives you a once over while you toy with your clothes and he lets out a soft sigh.

“Do we have to start all over again from step one?” He smiles.

He steps up to you and lifts your shirt over your head. You left your bra in the bedroom. He works on your shorts next, pressing them down your hips and leaving you naked for him.

“Beautiful,” he smiles after giving you a once over. He presses his boxers down and tosses them toward the hamper.

He’s one to talk. You forgot how beautiful he is.

You share a tame shower then lotion and dry off. You watch Steve while you both brush your teeth and figure out how to phrase your request.

“I have to change. Do you mind waiting in the bedroom?”

“Change? Into what? I’m just going to take it off,” he chuckles after spitting out his toothpaste into the sink.

“I just have to…change,” you draw out the word. You know it doesn’t make sense but you wish he’d just listen to you.

He watches you for a moment before shrugging. “Fine. Change.” You smile up at him as he leaves the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

You may not have worn anything cute enough that you deemed worthy for him to see.

But you brought something.

Now you just have to remember how these straps work…

You step back in the bedroom and find Steve lounging on the bed with his towel still wrapped around his waist. Jethro is playing with one of your scrunchies that Steve is whipping around the bed for him to chase.

Oh! He’s a good cat dad, too.

You smile while watching him for a moment until he looks up.

His eyes widen and he gives you a once over. He looks down at Jethro as he steals the scrunchie right out of his hand before diverting his gaze back to you.

“Okay little man. You gotta go play with that in the living room.” He scoops of the cat with the scrunchie still in his mouth and pulls himself from the bed. “I have some business to take care of with your mom.”

“Can you make sure all the windows are closed?” You request as he totes the cat away.

“Yes, ma’am!” He calls.

You slide into his space on the bed and pull your phone to you.

This deserves at least a selfie. But just for you.

“Losing my virginity realness” you type over the image.

“Is there a photo shoot going on in here,” Steve asks, reentering the room.

“Just commemorating the moment.”

“It only took us two years,” Steve chuckles sliding into the bed next to you. He poses for your photo and presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Alright. Hand it over.” He holds out his hand for the phone. “No more distractions.” You hand it to him. “Next time, we’ll make a video. But this time, it’s all about you.” You giggle and accept his kiss.

He cages you in his arms as he leans over you. He presses a kiss to your lips before pulling away slightly. You stare into his eyes while he watches you. You never noticed there’s a little green around their rims. They’re so pretty.

“I’m gonna take my time with you. Tell me if something hurts or doesn’t feel good. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper.

Steve’s gaze flicks down to your chest. His fingers slip under the strap covering your nipples to pull it away. “This is so not like you, star,” he mutters looking over the leather covering your body.

“Bucky picked it out,” you admit.

“Remind me to thank him. Get him a new car or his own plane.”

“You like it?”

“I fucking love it.” He presses himself down your body, kissing your chest and your navel before ending just above your pussy.

He pulls the leather aside and he licks a strip up your slit.

“Fuck, I missed how good you taste,” he groans. His hand slides under the leather to get it out of his way as he starts to devour you. You forgot how good he was at this. A whine almost immediately escapes you.

“Steve,” you whimper. Your hips roll, grinding them into his face just to feel him a little deeper.

“What’s wrong, star?” Steve asks between licks. “You need someone to scratch that itch? You need to cum?”

“Y-yeah. Please, Steve,” you cry.

“Don’t worry. ‘M gonna take care of you.”

You bite your lips and throw your head back against the pillows. You legs writhe to clamp together but his large body is in the way.

He tucks a familiar finger in your core and he finds that spot inside you almost immediately. You cry out his name and squirm harder.

“Keep making those noises. I fucking love ‘em,” Steve hums and pulls you clit between your lips.

It’s too much! He’s so good and he knows you so well. You don’t even stand a chance.

It doesn’t take much more to have you spilling into his mouth. You forgot how amazing it felt to come on his lips. It can’t compare to any of your toys.

“So good for me,” Steve praises into your stomach and kisses just above your core. You squirm against the bed while you catch your breath and come down from your high.

You blink your eyes open to him lazily stroking himself between your legs. You glance down at his thick cock before meeting his gaze again.

“You gonna stop acting shy?” Steve asks.

“Maybe,” you joke with a tired smile. He chuckles and tugs lightly at the buckles holding your lingerie together. It loosens and falls away into a heap under you.

Steve reaches over to the bedside table a pulls out a small bottle.

“What’s that?”

“Lube. I got you nice and wet but I don’t want to force it.” You nod. He really does want to make sure it all feels good. He slides the lube up and down his cock before he rests his hands on your spread knees. “Remember what I told you?”

“To tell you if it hurts.”

“Good girl.”

He presses his cock against your folds and finds your entrance easily. Almost instantly you feel like this is not supposed to be inside you.

You whine and clench up on him, pulling your knees to your chest.

“Hey, don’t do that. Relax.”

You bite your lower lip and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. It just feels like a lot of pressure. Like I’m putting in a tampon. A really big tampon.”

“Wow. That’s exactly what I want to be compared to: a big tampon.”

You giggle. “I’m sorry! I don’t know how else to say it.”

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. “Just try to stay relaxed.” You take a deep breath and he presses further into you. There’s more pressure but it doesn’t exactly hurt.

You wince as he hits a certain point. “Okay, maybe more like a Pap smear,” you cringe slightly.

“Star! That’s way worse than a tampon,” Steve groans.

“What do you know about a Pap smear?”

“I was married before you, remember?” He chuckles.

“Okay, well, why don’t I stick a speculum in your asshole and take some swabs so you’ll really know?” You grin

“I’ve had my prostate exam, thank you.”

“You’re that old?” You gasp.

“That’s it.” He thrusts into you to the hilt. You take in a sharp inhale and stare up at him.

You open your mouth and only a small squeak escapes.

He smirks. “That shut you up.”

“I can’t stand you,” you grit through your teeth.

“And I love you.” He presses a kiss to your lips and flips you on top of him. “Now relax for a minute.”

“Like this?” You cry, pointing to where you’re connected.

“Yes, like this,” he sighs and rests his hands at the small of your back. “We’ll continue when it stops feeling like a Pap smear.”

You roll your eyes at him and and fold your arms over his chest to rest your chin on.

“You still love me? Even with all the shit I put you through?”

“I never stopped, star. Even when you get on my very last nerve.”

You smile softly. “You’re just ‘ight”

“‘Ight?”

“Yeah. You’re cool and all but you can be kinda an asshole. But you’re my asshole.”

“Should I tell my doctor you’ll be performing my prostate exams from now on?”

You hum positively. “They have my permission to continue keeping you healthy. I need you around for as long as I can keep you.”

“As my wife, you stand to gain a lot if I die.”

“I’d loose too much.” Your fingers graze across his bare chest. Your hips shift and you gasp at the feeling of your clit rubbing against his pelvis.

“Something you like, star?” Steve groans, adjusting his own hips to chase after yours. You let out a soft whine and suddenly he feels so good resting inside you.

“Still feel like a Pap smear?”

You shake your head and whisper a “no”.

“Good,” he grins. He turns you both back over and cages your head with his hands. You instinctively hook your ankles behind his back. “Tell me if I’m too rough.” You nod.

He drags his heavy member out of you, making you gasp out, right before he presses right back into you.

You mewl softly as you arch your back. Then he does it again and again.

“Fuck, star,” Steve groans. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His lips attach to your exposed neck and he sucks and nips your sensitive skin, traveling along the column of your neck.

“Steve,” you whine.

“Yes, star?” He breathes against you skin. “What’s wrong? Tell me how I can fix it.” You can only cry out his name again. “Do you like it?”

“Uh huh!”

“I knew you’d like it,” Steve chuckles softly.

“W-why did we wait so looonghhh?” You moan.

He pauses and stares down at you.

“Why did we wait, Mrs. We Have to Get Married First?”

You heave a deep breath. You wanted to make this one count. “It’s Mrs. Rogers, actually.”

He lifts a brow and pulls completely out of you. “So fucking annoying. Get on all fours.”

“But you still love me, right?” You ask coyly while you turn over.

“I’m going to love fucking the shit out of you,” he chuckles darkly.

“What happened to being gentle?”

He grips your hips and pulls them back to meet his. His big hand presses your upper body down into the pillows.

“You’ve obviously gotten too comfortable.” His thumbs spread your pussy open so delicately, you wonder if he was lying about getting rough. Then he presses into you in one quick thrust leaving you whining into the expensive cotton bedding. “You need more.” He thrusts into you at a high angle, seemingly looking for something inside of you.

“Huh uh uh uh,” you huff at every beat and quickly understanding what it means to be fucked into a bed as you knees start to give out from his weight.

Then you know exactly what he’s after. He presses into that soft spongy part of your core and you let out a muffled scream.

“Ahhaaahaa!” You cry while still trying to breathe.

Did you…

You think he just…

And he did it so easily!

“Star, you came all over my bed.” He spanks your ass cheek softly. “Making a fucking mess.”

He sounds anything but disappointed in you. Proud, even.

“I-it’s your fault!” You cry into the bedding.

“What was that?” Steve grunts and lifts you by you hair so your back meets his chest.

You whimper at suddenly being manhandled and gasp at the fresh air.

You fucking love it.

“I said,” you breathe, “it’s your fault.”

“Damn right, it’s my fault.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as his big hand slides from your belly to your chest to cup your breast. “And I’ll do it again in a heartbeat.”

The hand in your hair finds your chin and he pulls you into a deep kiss.

Fuck. He’s good.

At this angle, he feels like he’s getting so deep and he’s hitting that perfect spot over and over. You moan into his mouth and your hand finds his arm against your chest. Your fingers thread between his and he pulls both your hands away to kiss the back of yours.

“Love you, star,” he mutters.

“Suddenly being gentle again?” You question.

“Just wanna make sure I don’t send you running.”

You look back at him. “I won’t run.”

His eyes roam up your body to your face.

“I trust you.”

He presses another kiss to your lips.

“Good. Trust me.” He thrusts into you again leaving you crying. Your head falls back against his shoulder while he holds you in place.

“Fuuuuck!” You cry to the ceiling. You can’t count how many times he’s tossed you over the edge but he just keeps catching you.

“God, you feel so good. Fucking made for me,” Steve grunts in your ear. You can barely hang on while he fucks you senseless. Your breaths come out in quiet cries. You’ve never felt like this. Like you were so completely understood. He knows what makes your body tick. He remembers even after two years; how you like to be touch, how to hold you just right, exactly what to whisper in your ear to make you go crazy for him.

Like he was made for you. Maybe you were made for each other.

“I’m close, star. You want me to pump a baby into you?” You were not in the mental place to have this conversation. You never wanted him out of you. He could stay firmly rooted in you pussy for the rest of time.

“Inside! Please, Steve!” You cry.

“Inside it is, star.”

He presses your upper body back down into the pillows and doubles his efforts.

“Oh, God! Fuck!” You scream but it’s muffled. The sound of slapping skin and Steve’s grunts fill the room but you can barely hear any of it over your own moans.

Stars fill the darkness behind your eyelids as he brings you to one last orgasm. Steve lets out a satisfied groan and a warmth spreads through your belly. You whine as you come down, pressing back against his hips to ride out the last of your ecstasy.

“Fuck,” Steve grunts as he empties himself in to you. He rests his chest against your back and attempts to catch his breath. “Shit. Star, you okay?”

You take a few deep breaths, still coming down from your high. “I’m perfect,” you sigh.

He pulls your hair away from your face and kisses your cheek.

He pulls you into his arms and rolls you both on your sides. You heave a heavy breath as he softens inside of you.

“So?” Steve asks, running his hand across your stomach.

“So what?” You exhale. “You want me to tell you you give great dick or something?”

He just chuckles softly behind you. “You’re going to be a pain in my ass for the rest of my life.”

“Damn right,” you giggle.

He presses you down on your back so he can watch you. “I can’t wait to deal with you for the rest of forever.”

“Do you use that line on all the girls?”

“Just the ones I marry.”

“So, two out of three?”

“You don’t know how many women I’ve been with,” he scoffs.

You give him a dubious look. “Okay, Mr. Rogers. How many?”

“Four.”

“Oh, I was way off then!” You laugh then gasp as you feel everything leaking out of you.

“Oh, shit! Let me get you a towel! Stay still.” Steve rolls from the bed and into the bathroom. You attempt to clinch to keep it all in but it’s such a strange feeling. Steve returns quickly with a warm, wet towel.

“Alright, relax. There you go. Better?” You nod and he gives you one last wipe before tossing the towel in the corner. He leaves the room again and returns with two water bottles and Jethro meowing happily on his heels. The cat jumps on the bed and immediately sniffs at a wet spot.

“Oh my God, Jethro! Stop,” you whine, directing the cat in a different area. Steve chuckles and pulls the comforter from the bed to toss next to the soiled towel.

“Someone will clean it up in the morning,” Steve advises.

“Thank you,” you smile and finally accept a bottle.

“Drink up. You lost a lot of fluids.”

“Oh my gosh! No you too!” you giggle as your face heats even more. “Was it that much?”

He hums positively while sucking down half of his bottle. “And you looked so fucking beautiful doing it, too.”

You smile. “Not as beautiful as you.”

“Oh, now you’re lying to me?” He laughs and tosses the throw pillows across the room and pulls back the sheets.

You snuggle next to Steve and he pulls you into a gentle kiss before lying back on the pillows.

You rest your head against his shoulder and your hand find his on his stomach. Jethro finally settles down next to you and starts cleaning himself.

You smile and lift your conjoined hands and press a kiss to the back of his. “I love you, too,” you whisper.

The two of you lie in silence and you’re pretty sure Steve is half asleep when you speak. “Hey, can we do it again?”

Steve laughs softly. “I knew I gave good dick.” You giggle and press a kiss to his cheek. “Give me thirty minutes, star.”

Fin

Chapter 5 | Master List

#steve rogers fanfic #Steve rogers x reader #mob boss!steve rogers #black!reader #mob boss!steve rogers x black!reader #Steve rogers smut

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sanji-needs-a-hug · 9 months ago

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Law's Cora-san nightmares

Part of the reason Trafalgar Law didn't get much sleep was because of his noisy new friend, the Straw Hat captain.

Well-it wasn't really his problem-or fault,anyways...the easily excitable rubber boy was always sneaking in to hold Law in his sleep.

Although even if Luffy wasn't sleep-walking,he'd come anyways,saying his Torao was "lonely" or "cold",both terrible excuses for the simple fact that Mugiwara-ya was touch starved,almost as much as Trafalgar himself.

But unfortunately for our grumpy captain...Luffy didn't often leave him alone...surprisingly enough for Law,he kind of missed Luffy,who wasn't there for once,having gone to pester Sanji,who immediately knew something was off when he went to go check on Law.

From within the slightly open cabin,muffled sobs could be heard,Law himself tossing and turning in his sleep...this was unusual since Luffy was usually there to wake Law from his nightmares,but that idiot,Sanji remembered,had gone to stuff his face.

Worried,Sanji hesitantly stepped in,hoping Trafalgar didn't shout at him. Law seemed to be muttering something, when Sanji stepped closer,he caught "C-Cora-san....pl-please come back" Law sobbed again,flipping over to face Sanji. "I need you...pl-please come back" muttered Law,more quietly this time.

A chill ran up Sanji's spine.

His compatriot had nightmares of his past as well-Luffy had never told him this information...and Sanji felt compelled to help his grumpy friend while Luffy was off pigging out.

Sanji shook Law for a moment, hoping he wasn't about to have his heart forcefully removed as he did so.

Nothing happened, Law's familiar tired gaze finally meeting Sanji's when he sat up with a start "Sanji-ya...what are you doing here? And where's Mugiwara-ya?"

Sanji sighed and told him the truth, rolling his own bluish grey eyes as he slowly removed his hand from Law's shoulder.

"Tch...how predictable. " sneered Law half-heartedly,laying back with a soft thump and staring at the shadowy ceiling.

Sanji hesitated for a moment before reaching to take Law's tattooed hand and stroking the A for a while "I'm guessing this Cora-san was important to you." He murmured,seating himself on the edge of Law's bed ,still holding the latter's hand,who surprisingly didn't pull away,protest,or remove any of Sanji's limbs.

Sanji could tell his friend was thinking of whether or not he should tell the cook the truth, the only sound that could be heard was the waves lapping against the ship as well as a brewing storm somewhere above before Law finally spoke in a low,almost whispery tone.

"Cora-san was like a father to me....he died to save my life even though I tried to kill him."

Sanji blinked in surprise,his fingers brushing softly against Law's knuckles as the latter spoke yet again "I had a disease....he stole from his brother to save my life...that's how I got Ope Ope no mi...and why I want that feathery pink bastard dead."

Law cut himself off,looking away from Sanji, as if afraid to see his expression. It was completely silent in the room, even the waves had quieted as if eager to hear what Sanji would say in response.

The cook was deep in thought by now before slipping his shoes off and pulling Law to lay on top of him "I can stay here, if you want...you're not the only one who gets nightmares about their childhood."

Sanji didn't elaborate and Law didn't ask,merely snaking his arms around Sanji's waist and his head on the cooks chest.

This in itself was a surprise for both males,since one didn't like physical contact and Sanji was usually obsessed with women...and yet it felt so...right.

#one piece lawlu #Sanji x Luffy #Sanji x law #one piece #monkey d. luffy #vinsmoke sanji #trafalgar law

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hotsexycowboysandcountryboys · 1 year ago

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Okay you have studs this is what happens you guys trade places for one day he goes to your job and you go to his yeah see his boss has to ask for him and you have the hospital your boss so what it is the bosses don't know what's going to happen the boss calls you into the office your brother's boss along with that the boss's son and your brother was dating just like your boss's son and you was dating yeah see as soon as you see the boss's son his boss's son more or less you're wondering about something you're saying to yourself he looks like my boyfriend and he says the same thing the same thing to himself your brother does but the thing about you and your brother's boss is that the boss says he wants you to bend over his desk and you're saying oh hell no boss I don't bend over for nobody if anybody's going to bend over that desk it's going to be you and his son walks in as this is going down yeah his son walks in and catches you too together but the sun gets involved it's not his real son that's his brother's son yeah you're really giving it to the boss yeah and that boy is enjoying it see your brother was giving us give him a dinner his boss like you did now about your brother your boss told your brother to get on his knees and to lick his shoes and your brother says oh no this is not happening and your brother has boots on but he also told your brother to bend over the desk your boss did and your brother said no I will not bend over your desk if anybody's got better with that desk it's going to be your son and you had your brother is pumping his load into your boss and I suppose that was in that boy walks in and sees it that boy definitely got involved he was at his knees servicing his uncle and he's taking your brother's cock inside him yeah what's your brother shut your load inside the boss the boy gets down behind the boss and starts looking and his cock into the boss he goes okay uncle it is time for you to take me since you like treat me like a little dog or a little slave I'm not going to be a slave no more now you're going to take it from me from now on when you're two are done with the boss you zipped up after you put your pants up and you gave each other a high five you invited your brother's boss too and he did the same you invited the boss and his son to dinner and you called your brother's work message at work and told your boss and told him to tell his stepson that he's invited for dinner you called your brother after that and said we are going to have a ball tonight you both are going to make the boss to have them underneath licking your boots as the boys watch cuz they need to see this happen and you and your brother be happy because you got the boys and the guys don't the bosses they don't have them no more cuz they are yours now they treat you better than the boss he hasn't been happily ever after but you still have the bosses as your slaves yeah they even got to service the boys cuz you got the boys looking good nice pair of tight jeans cowboy boots a hat oh hell yeah you got them looking just like you and they treat the boss just like nature to do and I'm talking about your boss and you don't trade partners either you have the highest cowboy around as a partner and your brother's partner has the highest return the hottest cowboy around which is your brother too that's to him to see so go out and enjoy yourself tonight at the bar if they pick on your dates you know what to do you got Big bubba behind the bar as bartender let him take care of the business like he always does but remember you too got to take Big bubba and his buddy in the back room you got to do them the same way you did the bosses

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ecargmura · 1 year ago

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Witch Hat Atelier Volume 3 Review

Between the reviews of volumes 2 and 3, I took a break from reviewing this manga. I fortunately got Volume 3 as a birthday present from my brother back in March! Thanks, bro!

I can’t help but to let out yelps every time I turn the page because this manga’s art is GORGEOUS! Like the cover page for Chapter 14? *chef’s kiss*. The cover of this volume? *chef’s kiss* Immaculate.

Chapter 12 is where Chapter 11 left off. Coco was about to get her memories erased but Tetia and Riche swoop in to save the day as well as Qifrey. They tell off the witch for being too rash with his actions. The witch examined Coco’s hands and realized that she didn’t use any forbidden magic, so they let her go while warning that there will be bigger consequences in the future.

Qifrey was proud for the girls. He even told Agott that she can take a test to rank up. Coco then tells Qifrey about the little vial of ink that she has. He noticed something off about it and holds onto it.

I really like how this chapter was written in the way that it wasn’t just Qifrey swooping in to save the day, but it was him, Tetia and Riche. You’d expect the child characters to be left out, but Shirahama gets them involved and I love that. It doesn’t make it look like they’re sidelined. I also like how Qifrey does his best to not make anyone erase Coco’s memories because he still needs clues to find the Brimhats and she’s his only lead. Coco was anxious about losing her memories because that means she’d lose her memories about her mom and the reason why she is studying magic.

I love that there is serious possible consequences for certain actions and they talked it out with reason instead of resorting to violence or magic.

Chapter 13 has Coco and Qifrey going to Kahln to meet with Mr. Nolnoa as he was the one who gave that little jar to Coco back in the first volume. His grandson Tartah brings them in. As Qifrey speaks with Nolnoa, Coco and Tartah develop a friendship as Tartah treats her wounds. However, it seems as if Tartah has issues of his own. While he is good at organizing magic material, he’s unable to differentiate color. He has silverwash, a type of colorblindness that makes a person’s vision all sorts of shades of silver. Because of this, he cannot become a full-fledged witch. Also, Qifrey did something that caused a bright light and when Tartah questioned Nolnoa, he feigns it.

I’ve always liked the Stationery shop in this story, so to return to it made me happy. I also like learning more of the world and people. Silverwash is an interesting concept and knowing that magic heavily relies on visuals does make one wonder how someone with a condition like Tartah become a witch, if it is possible.

Chapter 14 has the atelier go on a picnic. Coco learns about the five different tests in order to become a full-fledged witch; she took the first one, so she needs to take four more. The apprentices reveal about their goals with magic. Tetia wants to travel the world and help people. Riche wants to make her own magic. Agott wants to be a librarian. Coco just wants to learn more magic. It turns out that Coco’s having nightmares and it’s making her have trouble sleeping.

The picnic was nice and learning about the magic system and the girls’ goals made me feel more attached to them. Coco having nightmares about her mother’s death shows the insecurities that Coco hides within her kindness. She’s working herself so hard because she feels guilty for what happened to her mother.

Chapter 15 has Qifrey tries to uncover the mysteries of the mysterious ink in the vial that he made a mistake, causing him to get entangled in a sudden watery vortex. A Brimhat appears before him. It turns out that the mysterious ink was given to Coco by the same Brimhat watching over her.

In the morning, both Coco and Qifrey are tired. Qifrey wasted some tea leaves, so he goes out to pick some tea leaves. While the girls wait, Coco returns the Sylph Shoes back to Agott. Agott wonders why Coco’s so nice to her despite being mean to her in the beginning. Coco has no mean bone in her soul and just tells her that she didn’t want to give up.

She then faints as she’s sick! Qifrey takes her to the nearby hospital after receiving some help from Tartah.

This chapter was really interesting. Time and time again, we know that Brimhats are Qifrey’s goal because they took something from him. The fact that he missed an opportunity to confront the Brimhat caused him anguish. Qifrey’s not a good person. We’re not sure why he wants his missing item back, but we do know how dangerous these Brimhats are.

Coco and Agott’s conversation was heartwarming in a way. Agott really was mean to her in the beginning, but Coco never tattled towards her. Coco being a kind soul always moved my heart in a way. She’s super nice and all she wants is to learn magic in order to cure her mother. She can’t afford to wallow in petty rivalries and such.

Chapter 16 focuses on Coco and Tartah again. Tartah tries to help Coco after the doctors all ran off to check up on injured people from a nearby fire and they dragged Qifrey to help out. He is also an apprentice witch, but his future’s dark because of his inability to see colors. Despite this, he does his best to do things in ways he knows how. Coco, in her feverish state helps out.

Learning about how strict and prejudiced the Witch world is interesting. Just like in real life, society prefers the able-bodied, “normal” people while people who lack what is perceived as normal would be ostracized. Seeing Tartah working hard despite his disadvantages makes he hope he can become a witch someday.

Chapter 17 continues where the previous chapter left off. Coco and Tartah find the herb the latter was looking for and it helped Coco’s fever go down once a medic was able to come into the clinic wondering where her colleagues went. After Qifrey returns, Tartah asks him about the bright light, but they don’t seem to remember. In the morning, Tartah leaves for witch training, but tells Coco that she’ll become the greatest witch ever, encouraging her to keep going.

The friendship between Coco and Tartah is sweet. Coco made a friend outside out of the atelier. However, it’s not a pointless friendship as Tartah gives insight to what Coco’s missing with her glyph drawings while Coco gives insight to what he’s lacking. They work well together and it shows potential just in case there will be a time where Coco has to train outside the atelier.

It feels as if Tartah is implied to be her love interest, but it probably won’t happen. Tartah is more than just being a love interest with his silverwash storyline. He even promised to make a pen for her, so I’m sure that this pen will be her ultimate weapon. He will be important later on, I can feel it.

Overall, this entire volume was a bit slower. It’s more of a break before the big plot happens as seen at the end of chapter 17. I think this volume was necessary as it gives more insight to the world of Witch Hat Atelier and the concepts and customs. It got me engaged learning more about the lore.

The characters feel more fleshed out too, especially Coco with her inner guilt that’s causing her to have nightmares and tire her out to the point of not sleeping well. I commend Shirahama’s particular way of being very detailed, but also bringing out the whole picture. She gave Tetia some insight. She gave Riche some insight. She gave Tartah some insight. None of these characters feel sidelined and that’s a good thing. She’s giving characters as much spotlight as she can when they are in the story. I just hope she keeps this up when the story keeps going.

I can’t wait to read Volume 4. I hope we jump back into action soon!

#witch hat atelier #kamome shirahama #manga #manga review #coco #qifrey #agott #tetia #richeh #tartah #nolnoa #brimhats #review #ecargmura #arum journal #Happy 7th Anniversary WHA

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reservoircat · 2 years ago

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color theory - original fiction

I’ve improved a LOT LOT LOT with writing over the last few years with writing. I placed one of my character focused pieces under the cut, so if you wanna read a one shot horror romance that still needs a tiny touch up but that I’m overall happy w, then please give it a look see

tw for horror elements, religious trauma, minor gore mentions, violence

In childhood, my father and step-mother dressed my sister and I in white and soft blues, the colors of robin’s eggs and forget-me-not flowers and the portraits of Christ’s mother Mary in church. They were the colors of purity, chastity, and virtue, our father said. Grown women in the congregation were allowed pastels of other hues and pretty jewelry and hats adorned with beads and feathers, but the daughters of the pastor? Only the colors of the Lord and His mother were suitable for us. Couldn’t have anyone thinking we slipped or were too full of ourselves, not even when my own existence was proof of our father’s sins.

That was my mother’s fault though; the congregation and my step-mother had decided that a long time ago. My mother was the temptress, the harlot, the agent of Satan sent to pull down their beloved shepherd. After all, she wore red.

The problem with white was how easily it stained in comparison. But that was always the point, wasn’t it?

Kept us in the pews after the service was over, away from the boys outdoors, playing rough and tumble in the grass. Their mother’s chastisements were of fond annoyance, focused on laundry later rather than the appearance of impropriety. Boys will be boys, their fathers said. They’d say that again many times, for many of them, for far more than tackle football over the years to come. I didn’t know that at the time though.

All I knew was that the crinoline itched, and my hands stung when my step-mother would smack my hands away from picking at the eyelet lace out of boredom. I knew the sound that patent shoe leather made when rubbed together wrong was like a frog, but that if you did it even accidentally, people would stare at you from round the room almost like you just cursed. And I knew that even through the too hot layers of dress and pantyhose, if I dared take a fan from the back of the pew in front of me, I’d get thwacked with a hymnal.

One Sunday, when my hands stung and the ceiling fans weren’t working, the tray of communion cups passed by me. I reached up with sweaty hands to steady it on its way to my step-mother. My brother’s mind was wandering then, and his eyes too, toward Anayah Kingston. His hands slipped. Mine slipped too from the sudden and unexpected weight of the so-called blood of Christ in my clammy hands. Dozens of small plastic cups emptied onto me, soaking through the delicate white cotton of the dress I’d been shoved into that morning. Gasps rose from around the congregation, as the metal tray clattered on the floor.

For once, I wore red.

My father waved it off with a joke.

“Well, we always say we want our children washed in the blood of the lamb early,” he’d laughed, allowing the tension to ease by turning me into the butt of a joke instead of a symbol of anything too deep. I’m not sure, in retrospect, if it was better or worse. I just remember the sting of the wine in my eyes welling up tears that I wouldn’t admit for years were from embarrassment.

I locked myself in the cramped church bathroom. No one came and got me till an hour after service.

I couldn’t get the red stains out, no matter what I did.

——————————————-

When I moved in with my uncle, he threw away the pastel dresses that had been soaked too many times in cold water and peroxide after my father went on one of his drunken religion-fueled rages. He told me I was too pretty to be washed out like that, and he gave me some of my grandmother’s things until he could go buy more appropriate clothes for a teenage girl. My grandmother was a petite woman though, and they fit and….

They were purple. Orange. Green. They had patterns, some floral, some geometric, some brightly African-inspired that she’d bought when visiting her family in New Orleans, where I lived now. Even though I know now that I looked like exactly what I was–a girl in her grandmother’s clothes–I felt incredible. Different. Free.

My uncle liked seeing that enough that he made sure the clothes he bought me were bright too. My father had always said that bright clothes like that brought the wrong sort of attention, but I didn’t care about that. I’d already learned that it didn’t matter what I wore; puberty had taken away any ability or hope I may have had to hide from men.

I’d take joy where I could find it.

The man’s favorite color was purple, he’d slurred that day, as I walked home from my uncle’s shop on Magazine Street. It was far too early for anyone to be that drunk, especially some random white man in a business suit, and my nose stuck up and crinkled in more than just disgust for the smell. He didn’t like that. I didn’t care. Still don’t, but…I probably should have made it less obvious.

The same purple would blossom on the side of my face where he hit me. On my arm, where he tried to drag me down an alley. I remembered the whispered advice of my uncle’s friends, middle aged women and older fem queens who’d all been through the ringer life put them through at one point or another. I grabbed at my keys and jabbed blindly at his face.

Blood and white fluid blossomed from his eye like an amaryllis in full bloom. The hand that had gripped on my arm reflexively released to try to staunch the flow and save his eye. I still don’t know if it helped.

I ran. I ran all the way back to my uncle’s house, falling over myself and twisting my ankles over and over again in a pathetic effort to escape to the bathroom upstairs. My thumb had slipped up the key and rammed into his eye and the blood was caking and clotting under my nail and and the dark spots were fading to dark brown on the dress and–

I couldn’t get the red stains out, no matter what I did.

Story of my life.

——————————————

Dante was a Nice Young Man from a Nice Family, my aunt had promised me, and I could hear the capital letters in her tone. They had a lovely house and well-secured jobs, and a library of first edition books by authors like W.E.B. DuBois, Booker T. Washington, and other great respectable books by great respectable men.

They had money. And security. And he was a gentleman, even I couldn’t deny that. The absolutely perfect gentleman.

And here I was trying to keep up.

His mother complimented me gently for having nice hair and a pretty face, but in her own way gave her nudges this way and that. Purple changed to black. Blue to gray or navy. Orange to camel brown. Even if I didn’t have much promise for college in sight, I certainly looked enough the part of an Ivy-destined co-ed that no one asked too many questions of what my plans were after high school.

But then neither did Dante. And I think we were both fine with that.

He gave me his class ring more out of perfunctory requirement. I tried to give it back. Despite his parents’ having more than enough to replace it, I knew the value of it and didn’t want it hanging over my head, even though I knew he wasn’t the type to call in the debt.

He refused to take it back. I let the ruby and white gold ring hang around my neck on a chain for a few weeks before I received a politely typed letter on Duke University stationery announcing our break up. I quietly held the ring for a little bit before putting it back in a box in the back of a drawer.

Red stains in different ways.

————————————–

If I said it was love at first sight with Aleksander it would be a lie. After a short sharp series of unfortunate attempts to date boys my own age, either just starting their college journeys or wandering shiftless through trades and dead end jobs, I’d given up on finding that mythical spark. But he was attractive, mature, wealthy–

Married, but hey. That didn’t stop my own mother apparently.

But he had a radiating charm about him that I soon fell for, like an idiot girl. He spoke of his wife as if he wanted to leave her and take their children, but never promised that. He hadn’t promised me anything.

Not until later.

I would catch glimpses of his eyes sometimes in private, a sharp steel blue focused on something far off and unreal. His hands would flex and his jaw would tighten. I’d put my hands on his, the contrast between us less apparent in the low lighting.

One night, I noticed red under his fingernails.

I don’t know what motivated me to follow him the night I did. We’d had such a good arrangement, even though I knew the feelings I had caught went well beyond the limits of what either of us had planned. He didn’t owe me anything, and I knew there was a possibility there was another “someone else.” I don’t even think I cared then if there was.

Something just…called to me.

The barn in the woods was worn down, and it took far too long for me to make it there through the underbrush even in tennis shoes and the low light of sundown. I don’t know what I expected from the place. Maybe an isolated tryst or even a drug deal? I know he looked in pain a lot of times, though I assumed someone of his means could more easily bribe a doctor for something to take care of that without a prescription on the books.

The back door was held together poorly. Not really locked. It only took a push.

I smelled the blood before I saw him. The sad pathetic pile of a man was barely clinging to life. He looked up at me, reaching out pathetically as if I was his angel of salvation, as if I could do anything to save him at this point. His intestines were in a pulled out pile around him, loosely coiled and tangled like a copperhead in rigor.

The other door cracked open, and I ran. I ran and stumbled and scratched my way through the woods till I made it back to the car Aleksander had helped me pay for, and from there, I drove my ass right back to my apartment and–

I didn’t make it in before I threw up by the parking lot dumpster.

Instinct took over from that point. I went to the apartment. I took a bath, careful to wash around the scratches and cuts I’d gotten from running through the woods without looking. I washed off my makeup, and considered getting my hair braided again to hide the evidence of any contact with nature.

I tried to ignore a lot of things. I tried to ignore the still burning nausea in my stomach, the sharp pain of a finger tip where an acrylic had ripped off, the still strong smell of iron and filth lodged in my nose.

I tried to ignore the blue-lined white stick I knew was hiding in the trash, mocking me since before I tried to follow Aleksander.

The door unlocked, which I couldn’t ignore. Only he had the key. My hands paused from trying to rebraid my hair into two long pigtails, instead fidgeting on my lap. He slipped in and sat on the edge of the tub, looking up at me as I stared blankly at the vanity.

Neither of us said anything for several very long moments.

He stood behind me after too many, too long beats of silence, towering over me. Part of me wanted to brace for something, some sort of impact, but I couldn’t bring myself too. I was too tired and too young to be so tired. Too smart for this yet too foolish to have steered away.

“Close your eyes.”

And like the fool in love who knew too much, yet had so little, I did.

The necklace slipped over my head and around my hair and laid on my neck like a whispered promise. Six stones red as pomegranate seeds, lying in succession, trickling down my chest like blood droplets.

“A replacement, until I can find a ring,” he said, though what he didn’t say rang through the words just as strongly. ‘I saw you. You know me now. Please don’t leave.’

“It’s beautiful.”

I don’t know why I said that instead of a wealth of other things. Other questions. Screams or demands to leave. The image of the dying man was fading far too quickly from my mind in place of the familiar and now far-more-possible dream of bridal gowns and wedding planning.

My eyes darted to the trash can. The stones glittered under the vanity lights.

I couldn’t get the red stains out, no matter what I did. Not for my whole life.

“I’ll make sure the ring matches. The color suits you.”

I take a deep breath and sigh.

“Red always has.”

#original writing #original fiction #original character #origincal characters #ocs #horror

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maewiiweam · 1 year ago

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ

"Okay, all patched up. Can you move your knees?", the nurse asks, making me look down at my in bandages covered knees. I dangle them a bit then look up at her. She gives me an approving nod and I hop off the examination table.

"If you feel any pain, take some painkillers, okay? If you don't have any you can just come back to me. Also, the bandages need to be changed twice a day", the nurse informs me and gives me a piece of paper, an excuse-slip, and smiles at me. I smile back and thank her before leaving. Outside I fish my phone out of my bag, when I see a familiar pair of shoes on the floor. I look up to see Leander, he actually waited for me.

"Are you alright, love? How are your knees?" He asks, looking down at me. Oh the things I'd do to have him look at me from this angle daily...

"You alright?", he repeats and puts his hand on my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. Oh boy was his grip strong.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm fine, it doesn't really hurt anymore. Thank you for coming with me, I really appreciate it" I give him a smile, trying to cut the conversation short. Why do I feel so intimidated and small in his presence...?

"You're welcome, darling. Do you want me to walk you to your dorm?", he offers.

"No, it's alright. It's not that far away. Thank you though. See you tomorrow, I guess" I wave at him, not waiting for an answer and quickly walking toward my dorm.

Hopefully Mary saw my messages because I did not bring my keys.

"Sooo when's the wedding?" My roommate teased me after I told her what had happened in the last hour. Honestly, it felt like this happened in the course of a week.

"Very funny. He's basically a teacher!" I said standing up and going to my closet. Ugh, I need to find a good outfit for tonight's party. I should wear something that covers my knees though.

"Do you maybe have something that covers my knees but doesn't make me look like a grandma?" I ask Mary across our dorm, knowing she's already on her bed watching TV.

„Uuuh, don't you have that purple cowgirl set?" She responds, oh yeah I do. I shout a quick thanks and go on to search it.

„Just please, leave the hat home" She pleads making me chuckle, of course I wasn't going to take the stupid hat.

As Rachel, Mary and I walk into the huge house, where the party is happening, I can't help myself but widen my eyes. Such a beautiful mansion, getting destroyed by drunk college kids. In there we try our best to find Freddy and Soup, who got here like half an hour ago, which seems impossible. On our search, we kind of lost Rachel to one of her friends from her law course. After maybe 10 minutes Mary and I sit down at one of the, probably 20, bars.

"Man, why is this house so huge?" My friend asks making me shrug my shoulders.

"I wonder how anyone can afford this shit." She returns a giggle while looking at the menu. Yes, they have a whole fucking menu.

"Yo, you want a whole, entire lamb for dinner?" She asked me showing it to me on the menu, I take it thinking she is joking.

"What the fuck?" I laugh, handing it back.

"What drink do you want?" Mary asks me as I look at her.

"I don't know, what do they have?"

"They have lots and lots of things, Izzy. But nothing you desire right now, I think. " She smiles, she's so funny. Just then I catch her looking at the crowd of people as if she was searching someone.

„Looking for someone?" I get her attention smiling at her surprised face. „Are you in love, Mary?" I said teasingly putting emphasis on the word „love". She gives me a sarcastic smile and fake laughs a bit.

„No, Izzy. I'm looking for my brother. I told him I'd be here" She says in a tone that makes it sound like the most obvious thing. I wonder who he is and if I'll ever meet him.

„His boxing practice got cancelled today, so I asked him if he wanted to join." She explains more still looking around, hoping to see his familiar face.

„Well, what does he look like? Maybe I can help?"

„No it's okay, I can just-" She turns around to look at me. „Would you mind staying alone for a bit? You know so I can go check if he's here" I giggle and nod my head.

„I wouldn't mind, go ahead. I can take care of myself." She gives me a warm smile and a hug before running off. Leaving me alone at the bar, ready to empty it all.

I spend maybe 20 minutes here, ordering drinks for myself watching not to over do it. I can feel myself getting a lil dazed, making me stop even looking at the bar. Maybe next time I'll empty it out.

„Hello pretty printsessa" I hear a familiar voice making me turn my head in his direction, only to be faced with Mattheo placing himself next to me on a barstool.

„Hey Mattheo." I say trying to avoid eye contact. Those damn eyes making my knees weak with all the memories they hold. He lets out a loud „tsk" sound at my actions.

„How rude of you" He takes my chin between his thumb and pointer finger pulling my chin up to look at him. „Did you dads not teach you to look people in the eye when you're talking to them?" He has his infamous smirk on his lips. God, he knows what he's doing.

I look at him dumbfounding with my mouth slightly agape, scanning his face. Christ. I realise what's happening and shake my head put of his grip. I'm letting myself go. Fuck the alcohol, I'm never having fun again.

„Okay, sorry. I didn't mean to make you all flustered and uncomfortable." He leans back onto the bar, manspreading. I nod, turning my head to the crowd, a little something in me wanted one of my friends to appear and save me. But the tingling in my stomach wanted them to stay away as long as possible.

„What drink do you want?" He asks, at first I don't respond too caught up in my thoughts. But then he puts his hand on my back making me sit up straight with a quiet gasp.

„Calm down, malishka. I just ask what drink you want? Is my touch making you this excited" I turn around to him and roll my eyes at Mattheo. To which he only responds with a laugh.

„I don't know, you choose." I say, rather quietly but still in his hearing range, hopefully he'll just accept it.

„Sure" He turns around and orders for us. This is gonna be a long night. But thankfully it isn't awkward between us. We aren't looking like a broken up couple but more like an active couple. A couple out to enjoy their night. To have some fun. To show one another some love.

„Round one, on me." He turns back to you with your drinks, handing you one. „Cheers, printsessa" He laughs as we clash our glasses together. The taste letting me know it's just simple beer.

After many more drinks I was starting to feel a little dazed and Mattheo was starting to look really hot. Making me really horny. I was trying to listen to him talk about some tattoo ideas he had or some shit. I'm more so concentrating on his lips and the way they move, wondering if they'd move the same way on my body. Fuck, stop. You can't do this, not with him. You told yourself. But you want to so bad. Another voice in my head would chime in.

He eventually catches up to my distracted gaze, smirking.

„Did the alcohol make you horny, malishka" Am I hallucinating or is this really happening? Did he really just ask me that?

„Do you want me to take you upstairs and make you feel good, hm?" Mattheo teases, knowing my body better than I do it was clear this is going to go very wrong.

„Baby, I asked you a question." He warns and I just look at him dumbfounded, again. He is too good at this game, fuck my wall I'm letting him break it down. Scratch that, I'm doing it myself

„Yes, please."

#ADR #maewiwrites

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velvetcloxds · 2 years ago

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A HUSBAND'S DUTY | A.B.

Pairing: husband!anthony bridgerton x wife!reader

Word count: 1.6k words

Warnings: injury, little blood, getting stitches, anthony being an idiot, fem pronouns

Summary: after a little accident in town left you in need of some comfort while getting stitches, anthony fears he may be developing feelings for his wife

A/n: this was actually my very first anthony fic so go easy on me lol

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Anthony was admittedly concerned as he walked into the Bridgerton home, he had received a rather vague letter demanding his return but no more than that, though the cart of the physician that stood idle in front of the front door did not instill him with much relief.

"Whatever is the matter?” He demanded from the youngest Bridgerton brother, Colin looking no more in the know than he was, but a loud cry soon followed the silence and Anthony’s heart sank, though the voice it belonged to had been a rather new addition to his setting, he’d still recognize it without any prompt at all. “Is Y/n hurt?” Anthony added, now more alarmed than he was when he came in and Colin offered him a careful nod, hands reaching for his shoulders to keep him in place when he dared to take off towards you.

“There was a minor accident in town, Y/n tripped on her way into the carriage and managed to cut herself on the wheel,” he explained with an almost calming tone, knowing that despite the practically transparent charade Anthony enacted, there was no denying that the viscount cared deeply for his wife. “It is not as awful as her shouts make it appear, merely a few stitches to her arm, though she seems remarkably unfond of the needle, that is all.”

Anthony considered the words carefully, somewhat relieved that the injury was not as dreadful as the thousands of scenes his mind presented him at your first cry, but he was still uneasy. There was an unreasonable feeling biting at his stomach, it begged him to go to you, be there for you and he’d half the heart to pay it no mind but he was not sure he had enough restraint to do so.

“Eloise and Benedict are at her side, brother, you need not fret,” Colin began, a door creaking upstairs, footsteps fleeing down the hall, and with the bedroom now open to eager ears, he heard your voice even clearer than before, his name being the only thing to truly filter through as you begged for your husband to be brought to you and it was that shrill demand that had something in his chest snap. Colin sighed as he took hold of his brother’s top hat, watching the man strut up the stairs with determination.

“Please, no more,” you cried with your bloodied arm held tightly in place by Benedict, Eloise sat next to you on the bed as you shook your head in objection, resembling that of a child refusing to go to bed and were it not for the circumstance, Anthony would have taken a moment to take note of it, yet he cleared his throat instead. Your eyes found his in an instant, new tears, now of relief, cascading down your cheeks as your husband shrugged off his coat and shoes.

“Thank heavens,” Benedict sighed, carefully releasing your arm from his grip, a silent nod telling Eloise to follow him as he decided to leave you in the capable hands of his brother. “I wish you good luck, brother,” he mused as he patted Anthony’s shoulder, sparing you a sympathetic smile as he did. “She is intent on refusing help,” he added, and the siblings retreated to their own rooms.

“Anthony,” you breathed as he made his way towards you, nodding to greet the physician before climbing onto the bed with you.

“My love,” he cooed, sparing a glance at the worrying cut that traveled along your skin, an irritated wound if he had ever seen one, your squirming doing quite well in aiding the cause. “Have I not told you to be more careful with that spiteful step?” he reprimanded in the same soft tone, brows furrowed in concern as he moved his body behind yours, assuring a tight hold on you as your back rested against his chest.

“You have,” you agreed, nuzzling into his neck as careful hands rubbed at your waist to calm you down. “Please, tell them that there is no need for all this fuss,” you insisted and knew you would not get your way when he tutted lowly, kissing your forehead as you looked up at him with large eyes, a look he had never seen before, though that was but one of many new gestures you had shared within a few moments.

“I believe that despite your fighting, you are nearly free of this torture, merely a few more seconds, and then I shall ensure you never have to see the poor man again,” he bargained, and had you been of sound mind, you would have reprimanded him for attempting to manage your emotions, though you could not deny the serenity you found in his arms- what seemed utterly terrifying a second ago, was now but an uncomfortable excuse to be closer to him than ever before.

“Will you stay?” you sighed with a soft pout, allowing your head to fall further into the crook of his neck to better your view of his handsome face, one that was now adorned with a caring smile that you were sure he had conjured only for you.

“Until the very end, dearest,” he promised with a gentle shrug and you took a second before nodding, closing your eyes in preparation for the prick of the needle, breathing in Anthony’s cologne instead, feeling the soft material of his shirt against your cheek, the almost non-existent strokes of his thumbs against your sides, you were sure that if Benedict or Eloise could see you now they would think you mad. You thought yourself quite mad as well, finding so much solace, so much peace in a man who had married you while promising none, yet he held you so tightly, kept you so close, you felt as though you might shatter once he released you back into a world without his embrace.

You were unsure how long you had allowed yourself to be lost in Anthony before your stitches had been finished, the gentle tone of his voice bidding the old man goodbye summoning you back to your bedroom as you felt a flustered blush creep over your cheeks, gentle eyes looking down at you to ensure that you were in fact alright.

“I should apologize to your siblings,” you noted, daringly leaning further into him as he laughed softly, moving his hands to accommodate your shifting body as one arm cradled your back to keep you against his chest while the other dragged nimble fingers over the cloth that hid your closed wound. “I fear I may have acted fairly out of character.”

“You have,” he agreed and raised a brow when you avoided his gaze, looking down at your own hands as they laid in your lap. “Though, I do not believe any harm was done. In fact, now that my mind has cleared of worry, I can appreciate the terror on their faces upon my arrival.”

“You were worried about me?”

“Terribly. I cannot say that I remember ever experiencing worry quite like it,” he admitted and you felt your fingers entwining with his, you half expected him to pull away, return to the man you had known in the months after your wedding, the one who insisted on boundaries and distance, the one who insisted on pretending he was cold when he was truly just a man terrified to allow love into his life when it could so easily be stolen from him. “If I had any say in the matter, I would wish not to experience it again.”

“I am sorry for worrying you,” you nearly whispered, and he shook his head, smiling down at you as he regained your attention. “I did not know that Benedict had sent for you until I saw you standing at the door, and at the time I was far too relieved to see you to think of anything else.”

“You need not apologize, my love, is it not a husband’s duty to worry about his wife?” he teased, and it was though he achieved something marvelous when a smile sifted onto your lips as well, he knew he had matters to tend to, the day still long as he took note of tasks left abandoned when he came here, though he could not bring himself to leave you after the little ordeal. “How would you like to accompany me to some meetings in town?” he asked before he could stop himself and your face flooded with shock. “I am to finish up for the day and it would give me much more peace of mind if you were with me.”

“I would love to,” you squealed, knowing you ought to be hiding your excitement at such a simple request, but your moments together had left you drowning in greed, you would delight in whatever opportunity that held his presence as a promise. “I shall change first,” you giggled, smiling at him before he guided you out of his arms and onto the floor, watching you as you padded towards the bathroom.

“How fair the wounded bird?” Benedict teased as he stilled in the doorway, leaned up against the doorframe as he took a bite from his apple, brow raised at his brother who looked only at the closed door you had just disappeared into. “Anthony?”

“Something horrible is happening, Benedict,” he breathed, shaking his head as he met his brother’s gaze. “I believe that I am falling in love with my wife.”

all fandoms: @scandalous-chaos @the-blue-forest

bridgerton: @mirclealignr @saintlike78 @wrathspoet @esposamultifandom @murdockcastleslut @littlsstuff @golden-hoax @joline12829

other: @sarahisslytherin @leydileyla

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x yn #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton one shot #anthony bridgerton oneshot #anthony bridgerton drabble #anthony bridgerton blurb #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x yn #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction

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tsukishumai · 3 years ago

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pairing: tsukishima kei x f!reader wc; 2.2k tags; fluff, coworkers to lovers? a/n: quick fic for my bby lol happy birthday tsukki <33

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tsukishima Kei was tired.

Stepping out into the cold, autumn evening, he rubs his hands together in an attempt to warm his frozen fingers. He thinks the blister he feels forming on his pinky toe was a sign for him to get a new pair of shoes, and this fact was solidified by the ache in his arch with each step he took towards the bus stop.

The day had been longer than most. Maybe if he hadn’t let his brother drag him to the gym and play pick-up games last night, then perhaps his body wouldn’t have felt so sore this morning. And if his body hadn’t been so sore in the morning, then he might have had the energy to grab coffee before work, possibly even pack himself a quick lunch. His mood would have presumably been at least mildly better throughout the day, and he had no doubt that he would have been able to continue on with his work swiftly, and efficiently.

But Tsukishima had learned at a young age that things don’t always work out for him the way he wants them to.

He wasn’t trying to be rude when you came to ask him about his tour schedule, but did you have to burst through his office door so loudly? He felt bad for 2.3 seconds as he watched your smile slowly melt into a frown, but he was way too irked when you rolled your eyes at him when he asked you to knock.

And it wasn’t his fault that he bought the last tuna onigiri from the food stand outside the museum. He forgot to pack lunch, and he was hungry, too. He probably shouldn’t have unwrapped and eaten it right in front of your face, but he doesn’t appreciate getting dirty looks for ordering a meal.

You’re newer to the museum, he knows that. As someone with seniority, he should be a little more helpful, and he could probably work on improving his sociability just a tiny bit, but his patience could only run so thin. It’s not like you ever listened to him anyway.

Should he have told you to figure out the volunteer’s schedule on your own because ‘even a monkey with a banana could do it on their own’? Okay, maybe not.

But did you have to snap at him to ‘keep the stick up his own ass and leave yours alone’ when he warned your tours took too long, and you’d end up leaving late? No, and that’s the last time Tsukishima will ever try to offer advice to a newbie.

Tsukishima sighed. He was tired.

His stomach growled out loud as he pressed the button for the crosswalk, slowly moving to rub his palm along his belly. He’s wondering if he has anything he could make at his apartment. When an image of a rotting bunch of scallions and moldy tomatoes dying in his refrigerator drawer comes to mind, he thinks he’s probably better off grabbing a bento from the convenience store down the street.

The light switches from red to green, and just before Tsukishima steps down from the curb, he feels an arm delicately wrap around his own.

“Hey, babe,” a familiar, annoyingly cheery voice greets him, and he has to stop himself from grimacing when he looks down and his eyes meet yours.

Tsukishima doesn’t think you’ve ever touched him once — not in the last six months since you’ve become his coworker. He had bowed when you were first introduced, and Tsukishima had never been one to hand out hugs or high fives.

He attributes the deep blush that spread across his cheeks to this fact, and not to the feeling of your chest pressed tightly against his side.

“What the —“

“You almost left without me,” you pouted, and Tsukishima nearly tripped over his feet when you swing your body around to switch positions with him, “You’re so silly!”

“Uh,” Tsukishima stammers at the situation at hand, but he stills when he feels your grip tighten painfully around his bicep, and your eyes narrow and widen.

From behind your shoulder, Tsukishima sees it.

The streets were not too crowded, but they weren’t empty. From both sides of the sidewalk, Tsukishima watched as people silently walked past each other in a valiant effort to get home.

This was why Tsukishima almost didn’t notice the man standing beside the lamp post just fifteen feet back, his face half covered by a mask, hoodie pulled all the way over his head with the bill of a black hat just peeking out.

Tsukishima’s blood ran cold when he realized the man is watching you clutch onto him, and Tsukishima does not react when he can feel your nails dig through the material of his sweater.

A look of panic briefly flashes in your eyes when Tsukishima places his hand on top of yours and gently pulls your grip off his sleeve.

“You’re going to ruin my sweater,” Tsukishima mumbles as he drags his hand down the length of your arm and intertwines his fingers with yours. Your mouth drops open in shock when he gives your hand a tight squeeze, “Sweetie.”

He doesn’t wait for you to regain your composure before he drags you across the street. As soon as Tsukishima’s foot lands on the other curb, he glances back at the direction from which you came.

The capped-man was now slowly walking forward, reaching the crosswalk just as the light turned red once more.

Tsukishima quickened his pace down the silent sidewalk, globes of orange light shining down each lamp post you walked past. You said nothing of the sweat that accumulated between both of your nervous palms, still gripping onto Tsukishima’s hand tightly. The size of it nearly engulfs your own, and your hold on him was the only thing allowing you to somewhat keep up with the pace of his strides.

“My bus stop is right over there,” you mumble quietly, and Tsukishima silently thanked the gods you were going the same direction.

He could feel your fingers trembling against his, and Tsukishima gives you a light squeeze.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He was never one to comfort another, and he had never really been in a situation before. But something akin to an ember of rage had been stoked within him as soon as he saw some strange man’s greedy little eyes stuck on you.

The bus arrived just five minutes later, and Tsukishima stayed close behind as you climbed inside. You were lucky enough to find two vacant seats, and you slid into the one beside the window. Tsukishima occupies the aisle seat, stretching his legs out slightly as he watches the stream of people entering and leaving the bus.

It was after an old woman carrying groceries clambered into a seat behind the bus driver did Tsukishima notice him.

He sat by the very front while the two of you occupied seats in the back. A pair of sunglasses now completely masked all of his features, but Tsukishima didn’t need to see his eyes to know who they were trained on.

When you look up at him, dazed and slightly terrified, he gives you a tight-lipped smile. He lets go of your hand, and his heart breaks a little when he sees your eyes dart around in panic. Wordlessly, he reaches over and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side.

You had always been so hot-headed — loud, and passionate, and animated about everything that you do. Tsukishima had known you were trouble from the moment you rearranged one of his displays without even thinking about consulting him, and you had honestly been a headache ever since. You challenged him at every turn, corrected him when he didn’t ask for it, and it was obvious to Tsukishima that you were much too big for him to handle.

But at the moment, feeling so small as you trembled tucked beneath his arm, Tsukishima could only think that he never wanted to see you like this ever again.

His heart crumbles a little when you rest your head against his shoulder.

“So,” Tsukishima’s voice vibrated against your cheek, “The tours ran a bit too long today, didn’t they?”

Tsukishima bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing when you turn your head to face him, an incredulous expression decorating your features.

“Is now really an appropriate time for an ‘I told you so’,” You hissed, “You never miss a chance, do you?”

Now, a smug smile has fully settled onto his lips, “Never have, never will.”

You land a punch on Tsukishima’s wide open ribs, and he flinches to the side with a slight ‘oof’. But he tightens his arm around you even more. Swirls of pine and citrus began to calm your nerves, and it took you too long to realize you were inhaling Tsukishima’s cologne. He smelled as clean as he looked, and even after a full day of work, not a single hair of his was out of place.

Your stop was four after Tsukishima’s. He carried your bag from your shoulders as you climbed out of your seat. He stepped aside to allow you to lead the way, but Tsukishima’s chest was nearly pressed against your back with how closely he followed behind.

You hadn’t expected Tsukishima to follow you this far, and as you walked a few steps towards the direction of your apartment, you turned to thank Tsukishima for his aid.

You whip your head side to side when you find that he was no longer walking behind you, curious to see that he was waiting two feet away from the bus’ exit.

You briefly wondered what he was waiting for, and your heart shattered down to the ground when you see the familiar stranger that had been following you since you exited your office building slowly step out.

You didn’t even notice him climb onto the bus. Had he really been there the entire time? Oh god, was he planning to follow you all the way home? Your head begins to spin at the dangerous possibilities that could have unfolded.

“Are you lost?” Tsukishima’s voice was cold and stern, and you could hear it clearly from where you stood.

You watched as the hooded man jolted, clearly shocked at the question directed to him. His face still remained perfectly hidden, but you could tell from his body language that he was not expecting to be addressed.

Tsukishima towered over him, but his six foot five stature had towered nearly everyone. The eyes behind his dark-rimmed glasses were narrowed in a glare, and Tsukishima stayed planted in front of your intruder.

“Oh — uh, i— no, just —“

“It’s that way,” Tsukishima didn’t wait for the man to finish his stammering, pointing a long finger towards the opposite direction of your home.

The man didn’t need to be told twice. He twirled on his heels, looking over his shoulders only to see Tsukishima watch as he walked away into the night.

You were frozen, mouth hung so wide open, you were pretty sure bugs had flown in. Tsukishima makes his way back to you, stopping to wrap his arms around your shoulders once again. He tilts his head down at you, looking softly as he asks, “Which way?”

You were at a loss for words, choosing instead to simply lead the way. Tsukishima remained draped over you, like a blanket of protection warding off all evil.

The silence that engulfed the two of you felt comfortable, and on any other day, you might have been appalled to be in such close contact with Tsukishima Kei.

But today, you felt safe. You felt comfort, and relief, and you relax against him, perfectly protected under Tsukishima’s wing.

You sneak a glance up at him, biting your lip as you turn the words you want to say over in your head.

“Tsukishima,” you start, chewing on your lips, “Thank yo—“

“My last tour is usually at 4:45,” he interrupts you, squeezing his hand on your shoulder, “I try to catch up on some paperwork before leaving but…”

He trails off, and you stay silent in fear of ruining what he’s trying to tell you.

He shifts his head away from you as he says, “If you wait for me, I could walk you home.”

You stop in your tracks, looking up at him with a smile. Tsukishima pointedly avoids your gaze, but it’s difficult when he’s keeping you pinned beside him.

“I’d like that,” you mumble before pointing back at the apartment building he hadn’t noticed, “This is my place.”

Tsukishima finally deigns to let you go, stepping back and brushing his fingers through his hair.

“Shorten your tours,” he grumbles out, turning his body back the direction from where he came, “And don’t forget to itemize each piece that comes in for the Date Masumane exhibit tomorrow.”

You stare at him dumbfounded before bursting out in giggles, bringing your hand up in a mock salute.

“I owe you one,” you call out, watching him retreat back from where he came.

He waves you off.

“I like black coffee,” he calls back over his shoulder, “Do what you will with that information.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

rbs v appreciated <33

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x y/n #tsukishima kei drabbles #tsukishima kei fluff #tsukishima kei scenarios #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima kei imagines #tsukishima imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! x reader

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groundcontrol21 · 2 years ago

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The Handkerchief(s) of Aramis (M)

In the 1978 musical movie adaptation of The Three Musketeers, Aramis complains about going to England and says (and I quote) “It’s damp in London, and I only have twelve handkerchiefs.” Naturally I went insane (see this post for evidence). Unfortunately, given the events of the book and therefore the movie, Aramis never makes it to London to put these handkerchiefs to use. So here I am, changing the plot around a bit to remedy that :)

Title taken from the actual title of one of the chapters in the book that punched me directly in the k!nk.

******

Waving the bundle of letters he had just received from Captain Treville, D’Artagnan swaggered into the stable yards where Aramis and Porthos were, reclining against the wall and munching on apples that belonged to the horses. Athos was absent from the scene, though it was just as well; he was recovering from a slight infection to his shoulder wound, and as such, the road was not the place for him.

“I must go to London to deliver these letters to the Captain’s brother-in-law,” D’Artagnan told the two. Upon seeing their eyebrows raise appraisingly, D’Artagnan added. “Congratulations on his graduation from the academy, nothing interesting.”

He unhooked his horse from its post, narrowing his eyes when his two friends were slow to do the same. “I trust you two will accompany me?”

“London?” Aramis clicked his tongue and shook his head, letting the apple fall to the ground. “It’s damp in London, and I only have twelve handkerchiefs on my person.”

“Twelve?” D’Artagnan repeated incredulously with a shake of his own head. “We’ll only be gone a week. I should say that number would more than hold you over.”

“Not quite so, Gascon,” Porthos added. “Our Aramis has all the constitution of a delicate flower. Get him a bit too wet and he’ll be out of sorts for weeks.”

This was all news to D’Artagnan, for Aramis seemed far from frail and sickly. The man wielded a sword with prowess and could shoot a fly from the hair of a horse; in fact, D’Artagnan suspected that, after himself, Aramis was the fittest of their coterie. Doubtful, he looked to the man in question for confirmation, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for his two friends to begin laughing at him.

But Aramis just nodded sadly. “Alas, I cannot even venture too far into Normandy in the autumn.”

“Put him in Bretagne in December, and he’ll come down with pneumonia.”

Aramis pretended to faint against his horse, his dainty hand covering his eyes as he swooned. “Oh Porthos, don’t remind me!”

D’Artagnan tapped his foot impatiently, still unable to shake his initial suspicion that the two men were having him on, or at the very least, trying to malinger. “So will you accompany me or not?”

“Of course,” Aramis said decisively, before swinging himself into the saddle with a flourish. “I am only warning you that your handkerchief may need to be sacrificed for my efforts.” He clamped a hand to his heart, looking suddenly stricken. “Tell me at least, D’Artagnan, that there are no women who await us in London. I could not bear the thought of any fine English ladies seeing me so indisposed.”

D’Artagnan rolled his eyes as he mounted his own horse, hearing Porthos do the same behind him. “There are no women unless you count Treville’s brother-in-law among them.”

Aramis surveyed D’Artagnan critically. “Is he a bachelor?”

D’Artagnan blinked. “I believe so?”

Aramis considered the answer for a moment, face inscrutable, before nodding, apparently satisfied. “Very well, then.” He kicked his horse forward and raised his hat in the air. “To London!”

Porthos followed suit. “To London!”

D’Artagnan urged his own horse to a gallop and followed after the two Musketeers, still feeling distinctly like he was caught in the middle of some elaborate joke. He gave himself a shake and resolved to deal with it later; for now he would focus on the road that lead them outside Paris and beyond, into the countryside and later to the sea.

********

“Eh’KESHHH’uhh! Ach, this damn rain. Snf! ITCHIEW!” Aramis massaged at his head with a pale hand, the rings on his fingers glinting as the movement made them catch the candlelight in the tavern. The first wrenching sneeze, after riding just half a day in the misty English air, could have been a joke, but the seeming thousands that followed certainly were not. They reached London as Aramis was doing naught more than alternating between shivering and sneezing, and Porthos had given up his own riding cloak to drape around the man’s shoulders.

It had been drizzling, even raining, since they set foot on the island, much to the chagrin of the poor, suffering Aramis, for they had no choice but to ride on. They three could waste an entire month waiting for the London sun to shine. Papers delivered, they turned back at once, eager to get Aramis back home and to bed, but the foul weather had turned even fouler, and now they were hunkered down in an inn some miles still inland from the port that would take them back to Boulogne, awaiting a break in the downpour. D’Artagnan leaned his head on his hand, listening to the sounds around him: the low hum of the other travelers who were presently seeking solace from the storm, the fierce lashing of the rain against the window panes, Aramis’s completely waterlogged sniffling.

Porthos returned to the table with a mug and slid it across the table. “Here’s another hot wine for you, Aramis.”

With a grateful inclination of the head, Aramis pulled the mug closer. “Th-heh-thank you, Por–Heh’KSHIEW! Por–heh’ih’HISHH’ooo!” He buried his nose in the folds of his handkerchief, shutting his eyes as he paused a moment, as though too tired to do anything but wait for gravity to drain it and do the work for him. “Ugh, snf!” He blinked rapidly and lowered the handkerchief. “Porthos.”

D’Artagnan’s cheeks colored; it was, for all intents and purposes, his fault that Aramis was feeling this terrible in the first place. He tried to hide his disgusted wince as Aramis emptied what must have been every liquid in his body into the handkerchief. He forced what he hoped was a sympathetic slant to his visage. “How are you feeling?”

“HESHH’uhhh!” The cloth did not move from his nose as he spoke; Aramis merely regarded D’Artagnan with bleary, tired eyes over the top of it. “Snf! Need you even ask?”

D’Artagnan reasoned he deserved such a snappy reply to what had been a rather foolish question. It was plain to see how Aramis was faring, from the way he buried his head in his hands with a soft moan whenever he glimpsed a reprieve from his nose, to the way his voice was low and thick with congestion. That was, of course, to say nothing of the wet sneezes and drippy sniffles that assaulted him with a dogged regularity, leaving his nose a terribly sore and chapped mess.

D’Artagnan turned his attention to the water splashing against the windowpane with a muttered curse. “If only this rain would let up a bit, we could continue on our way back to Paris.” Aramis coughed and Porthos rubbed his shoulders. D’Artagnan felt himself soften. “At least get you to France where you can be ill in a place with a civilized language.”

On account of one of Porthos’s old mistresses being a cloth merchant’s wife from Dover, he was the only one of them with any knowledge of English, however rudimentary. Between fragments and hand signals (and Aramis’s quite noticeable ailment which transcended both language and culture), he was able to get Aramis a few things to ease his symptoms, but the going had not been easy. Porthos had nearly got the three of them kicked out when he slammed his fist on a counter hard enough to crack it in his frustration at the innkeeper’s inability to understand his request for “wine with miel… you know, from bzz bzz” and the associated insect-related gesticulations.

Aramis scoffed, the sound scraping at his throat. “A bit! Ahh’TSHIEW! Snf! Oh… Hihhh’TSHHH!” He mopped his nose miserably. “If it lets up only a bit then I am back in the a-a-ccursed–Ahhh’KSHIEW!--accursed damp that got me in this–snf–situation in the first place! HESHHIEWW! Ehh’KSHHH’uhh! HEPTSHIEW! Oh…” He pinched at the bridge of his nose, his eyes fluttering shut, though he kept the sodden handkerchief close at hand. “Better this way, as I am at least warm and d-dry–Ihh’SHHH!”

Aramis folded the cloth a few different ways, turning it this way and that in search of a dry patch, before dropping it to his lap with a scowl. “Pff, it is no use, this one is completely–Eh’KSHH’oo!”

“Take another,” Porthos said kindly, tapping the satchel in which the cloths were kept.

“Ahh’KSHHH’uhh!” He caught the sneeze in a cupped hand, his other outstretched and waiting for Porthos to place a fresh one within it. “Four days yet, at least, from–snf!--from Paris, and I am already on number…Eh…Snf! Hehhhh… eleven. Snf! HITSHIEW!!” He blew his nose again, muffling a moan into the folds of the cloth at the simple pleasure of its dryness.

Once finished, he fixed the Gascon with a watery approximation of his usual cheeky grin. “We did warn you, D’Artagnan.”

Porthos merely shrugged and nodded in agreement as Aramis continued sniffling and snuffling into his penultimate handkerchief. For his part, D’Artagnan was slightly chagrined that he had not taken the warning seriously, for all that now stood between the one handkerchief he owned being well and truly sacrificed was the twelfth handkerchief of Aramis and that of Porthos.

“Heh’TCHOO!”

And at the current rate, D’Artagnan knew the two articles would not be able to withstand the siege for long. This time, he could not altogether hold back his wince as Aramis made prodigious use of the handkerchief to clear his nose, for all D’Artagnan could imagine was his one lone handkerchief in its place. No matter how many washes it was subjected to, given the sheer ferocity of Aramis’s cold, D’Artagnan would never, ever be able to accept the defiled piece of cloth back should Aramis attempt to return it. So he resigned himself, as he listened to Aramis sneeze and sneeze, to buying himself a new handkerchief immediately upon their arrival back in Paris and, if money allowed, perhaps a couple more to fortify Aramis to avoid this sort of situation should they ever be required to go back to England in the future.

#i wrote this in btw ebbs and flows of migraine so forgive any badness #would treville have a brother in law in england? who knows who cares #my writing #the world needs so much more historic snz fic #snzfic #sick ara/mis #more muskie snz!!!#handkerchief action 😰😰😰

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theshelbyclan · 4 years ago

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Castle in the Sky

Summary: You’re the daydreaming sibling of the Shelby’s, but when the adventure spills over into real life, it’s not as great as you’d imagined

(Gif by @nofckingfighting) A/N: A sweet anon requested: can I have request please Something like this Tommy was very protective over y/n and she gets hurt by one of the bad guys and sees blood on her face now all bruised but Tommy wants revenge Omg if you do so thank you so much for my request! ❤️ Huge fan of your works!This is set around season 1, back in the good old days when the only real enemy was Billy Kimber, remember those days? So easy… anyways, hope you like it J Words: 2933 ***

You were only nine when you started as a bookie’s runner for the Peaky Blinders. Nothing about this was special, half the kids of Small Heath worked for them, but there was just one difference: the Shelby’s were your brothers. It was a good job in many ways, because it meant not only being able to help your brothers, but people were inclined to give you a bit extra, just for being a Shelby. You imagined they thought it good luck.

“Y/N, take this to the other side of town, will you?” Tommy requested as he sat hunched over a newspaper. You protested a little, “Why me? I’ve done all of mine for today…” “This one’s extra, alright?” “Who is it?” you could never hide your inquisitive nature. But you only showed it around your brothers; to the rest of the world you were just quiet and practically invisible. He smirked slightly, “Someone who’ll pay up big. That’s why I need you to do it. Can’t trust any of the other kids not to steal…” “I have some homework to do, Tommy.” At thirteen, you were still at school, which was a minor miracle in Birmingham. “Tell you what: if you just do this one job, I’ll get you magazine you’ve been talking about, eh?” now he looked up and met your eyes. “Book, Tommy,” you smiled, “You might have heard of the concept? It’s a little like a magazine, a little like that newspaper, but with more pages? Some find it challenging, but once you get used to it…” “Alright, little miss know-it-all,” he grumbled without malice, “Go on, take the slip, make sure he bets all. Off with you. Stop outsmarting your old brother, eh?” He winked to make sure you were comfortable and you returned it with a big grin. “Where?” “Digbeth,” Tommy’s nose was back in the newspaper, “behind the Golden Dragon.” ***

As you were walking through the streets of Small Heath on your way to Digbeth, you were daydreaming. In a way it was strange just how different you were from your brothers, because the entire Shelby clan was very realistic, trying to make their way in this hard world, where you would rather pretend all day you were the main character in some story. The books you read, it was all an escape to you. So while you were walking, the people and factories disappeared. In your head, you were walking through the woods, on a secret mission that your king gave you. With the top-priority letter in your pocket, you remembered what he’d told you before you left: “If you get caught, eat the letter. If they capture you, make sure to be brave and never divulge its contents to anyone. And if all else fails, you must make the ultimate sacrifice. But remember, you have to memorize the contents of the letter first…” Wouldn’t it just be easier to memorize it now and destroy the letter immediately? You pondered on the matter… In the distance, you could see the mountains and the towers of another kingdom, and you knew your enemies were near. Without anyone noticing, you put a hand to your pocket and could feel the reassuring rustling of paper underneath your fingers: the letter was still there. If it would come to a fight, how would you go about it? If there were just one man, the small dagger in your boots would suffice. If it were two, you’d distract one, maybe by throwing the veil you were wearing, quickly turning around to kill the other and then back to the first one before he had time to recover. If there were more than three, you’d run, because you were the fastest after all. You’d get to higher ground and attack them from there, like a deadly shadow they could never see coming. As you smiled to yourself, you left the daydream for a short moment. You looked down and saw the muddy shoes you were wearing, marching through Birmingham mud. In the distance, all you saw was smoke and factory pipes. But it was honestly all you needed: your imagination did the rest. The real world barged in when you delivered the slip in Digbeth. Everything went smoothly at first. Your big brown eyes persuaded him to indeed bet big, and you were quite satisfied with yourself, knowing Tommy would be too. But you still had to walk back with a lot of money now in your pocket.

*** Almost home, there were only a few streets to go. Your head was back in the clouds and this time you were imagining you were a spy during the war. Silently, you moved through the streets, making yourself invisible and pretending every man wearing a hat was the enemy. So each time you saw one, you changed directions or hid for a second. It was a fun game, until you realised the enemy wasn’t wearing a hat. “Now, what’s a pretty girl like you doing on the streets, all by herself?” A man with a heavy Cockney accent popped up next to you and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came out. In your dreams, you always knew what to say, but in reality it wasn’t so easy. The man approached you and you noticed he’d cut you off from your one exit out of the alley, “It’s Y/N Shelby, isn’t it,” he grinned. “No,” you managed to say, “you got the wrong girl.” He grinned again, “Nice try, sweetheart. We’ve seen you at the Garrison. They don’t allow little girls at the pub, unless they’re a Shelby.” This was all true. You felt your hands getting clammy. “Tommy sent you, didn’t he?” Again, you tried to remember what the hero in your stories would do. She’d run, climb the building and then throw a knife right between the eyes of the man. Or she’d say something clever, just to distract him, and then turn around and escape when he least expected it. He took another few steps forward and you could smell him now, a smell of strange smoke and the river, “Do you know who I am?” Nailed to the ground, you shook your head. “I work for Mr. Billy Kimber. Ever heard of him?” You turned to see if you could escape, but then realised the other side of the alley was blocked by two more men. Neither of them were wearing hats. Cold sweat of fear ran down your back. The man in front of you started laughing, “There’s no running, sweetheart. Just give it to me.” At once you realised he was referring to the money in your pocket, but for Tommy’s sake, you wanted at least to try to be brave, “I don’t have anything.” He sighed, “Don’t play with me. I’m not the kind of man to play with, and neither is Mr. Kimber,” his voice was suddenly low and menacing, “Your brother thought he could, thought he would get away with fixing a race, he did, and now he’s going to be put against the post and shot. Don’t think I won’t do the same to you.” You gulped, but still thought of Tommy’s disappointment in you when he would find out you’d been a coward. So you took a deep breath and said softly, “It’s not yours. This money is ours. You can tell Mr. Kimber to go fuck himself!” It didn’t come out as strongly as you’d hoped. Like a crack of thunder, he swiftly slapped you across the face with the back of his hand. All the air was knocked out of your lungs in a second and you stood gasping for air, as you felt some blood trickling down your chin. “Give me the money,” he demanded again. And then, like your heroes, you pretended to reach for it in your pocket. Suddenly, you turned around and started running into the other direction, hoping to slip past the two men before they could stop you. But it didn’t work. One grabbed your arm and when you tried to push him away, he punched you hard. All strength left you in an instant. The second one started fumbling in your pockets and instinctively you kicked him, which earned you another blow to the head. More punches followed and your head was spinning. As you looked up to the sky, you remembered wanting to get back home, to your castle, where all was well and safe. In the end, they left you on the ground and the money was gone. Your last thought was: Tommy is going to be so embarrassed.

*** “Y/N?” You opened your eyes, but couldn’t see for a moment. “Y/N,” the familiar voice repeated, “Come on, yes, let’s get you home. Polly, Polly will know what to do, yes…” Strong arms lifted you up and rocking with his familiar limp, Curly carried you back to Watery Lane. When he’d taken you into the kitchen, Aunt Polly flew to your side in seconds, asking, “What’s happened?” Uncertainly, Curly explained and as he did, he started to become upset over your state. That’s when Tommy came in and started to calm him, while keeping an eye on you all the time. “Sweetheart,” Aunt Polly had taken a cold cloth to the cut in your lip, “Wake up… Come back to us…” Again you tried opening you eyes and you finally managed this time. But all your concern was with Curly, who was still anxiously fidgeting with his cap in hand. “Don’t worry, Curly,” you croaked, “I’m alright now. You did good, carrying me here.” “Polly will know what to do…” he kept on repeating. Tommy put a hand on his shoulder and it had an immediate calming effect, “It’s alright, Curly, go back to Charlie, eh? We’ll take care of her now.” Before he left, you said to him, “Curly? I’ll stop by tomorrow, see about that beautiful horse of yours, alright?” That put an immediate smile on his face, “Yes, she’s a beauty, alright… And she needs her princess to ride her! Back to that castle in the sky…yes…” When he’d gone, you lowered your head again and sighed deeply. Carefully, you felt your face and only then realised how awful you must look. “Who did this,” Tommy demanded at once. Polly glared daggers at him, “You did, I presume?” “Me?” “I told you again and again not to use the little ones to run errands. Sending them across half of Birmingham with money in their pockets, and look what happens!” For a moment, Tommy seemed to be speechless. Then he protested, “They’re invisible, Pol. Nobody knows they’re carrying anything.” “This one did,” you interjected, “because he knew who I was.” “How?” “Said he was with Kimber,” you whispered as the memories came back to you, “said he’d put me up against a post and he’d shoot me, like he’d do with you…” In a sudden fit of rage, Tommy grabbed a chair and flung it across the room. Polly snarled at the gesture and then turned to you, “Stay here. This cloth is cold, keep it against your eye, or it’ll turn black in half an hour, and I can’t take you to church looking like that. I just need to have a word with your brother.” You took the cloth and didn’t dare to look at Tommy, who was now being taken away by his aunt like he was ten years old again and in trouble. Aunt Polly closed the door behind her, but you still tried to hear as much as you could. Most of it was lost, but when they started shouting you heard bits like “putting your little sister in danger!” and “this is Billy fucking Kimber, Thomas” and “family first”. At first Tommy protested with “I didn’t know they knew her” and “Kimber is getting weak”, but eventually he shouted out in defeat, “I fucked up, alright? I’ll fix it. I promise.” When they came back, Tommy looked like a dog that’d just been kicked. So he retreated into a corner and started smoking, still sulking a little. Aunt Polly lifted your head up by placing a finger under your chin, “You won’t look pretty for a week, but it’ll heal.” You shrugged, not caring about being pretty at all, and muttered, “I feel like an idiot…” “Why?” your aunt demanded, “because big men decided to go after a small girl?” Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes, as you admitted, “Because I wanted to be brave! In my stories I’m pretty and strong and the hero, but in reality I’m just like a mouse. No one notices me and I’m useless…” “Sweetheart,” Polly softened her voice and crouched down next to you, “Just because you can’t fight like Arthur or John can, doesn’t make you useless. We’re all stuck here, in Small Heath, and there’s nothing pretty about that. But you reading all those books? That’s what’s going to make this easier. You can pretend, and that’s worth more than you’ll ever realise.” You smiled back at your aunt, who always knew what to say to make you feel better. “I’m off to the chemist to get you some powder against the pain,” she kissed the top of your head, “I’ll be right back, love.” After she’d gone as well, you sighed again and dropped the cloth. Her words mattered, of course they did, but it didn’t change the fact that you weren’t happy with yourself at all. For starters, you still couldn’t bear looking at Tommy. “Y/N,” he grumbled, which convinced you even more he was angry and disappointed, “Tell me what they looked like.” “They didn’t wear hats…” Impatiently he waved a hand, “Apart from that. What else?” “I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it all happened fast, Tommy. They had that accent that Kimber has as well.” “Fucking Cockneys…” your brother breathed. “Tommy?” you tried carefully, “I’m so sorry, but I lost the money. I tried to keep it. When they asked I told them to fuck off and then I tried to run and even fight, but they still took it. I’m so sorry…” He held up a hand to silence you and locked eyes with you, “You told them to fuck off?” “Yes, but it didn’t help…” “You actually told them to fuck off?” he frowned, “Usually you’re too shy to even say anything to strangers…” “I was angry,” you explained, “and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Tommy walked over to you and much to your surprise, he was smirking, “So you told them to go fuck themselves, and then you fought them?” “Yes?” “Did you hit any of them?” You thought about it for a second, “I think I kicked one in the balls and hit the other in the face.” His grin grew even wider and he mumbled to himself, “Wait ‘till I tell Arthur about this…” “Why?” you protested, “So he can laugh at me as well?” “No, sweetheart, he’ll be the proudest brother ever. His little sister, who everyone thinks is a little mouse too scared to do anything? She fucking hit a grown man and told them to go fuck themselves. Now that’s a hero in my book!” His laugh was contagious and you had to join in. But soon you became uncertain again and asked, “Are you not upset I lost the money?” “The money’s not important,” his face grew serious again in an instant, “but you are.” “Really?” you whispered. “Yes,” he took your face in his hands, “Listen, Y/N, this is what’s going to happen: Billy Kimber threatened my little sister, so I’m going to put himup against the post, and shoot him.” “And then what?” “Well, what usually happens in your books? Maybe I could learn something from them, eh?” A warm feeling of being appreciated for who you were came over you, “You’d take his kingdom and his skull would be put up on the gates, as a warning for all future enemies.” “That’s fucking dark,” Tommy raised one eyebrow, “But I like it.” “Me too…” you smiled at your brother. “I mean it though, Y/N. Kimber touched you, so I’m going to shoot the bastard. I won’t let anyone fucking go near you again.” And just like that, you felt safe enough again to continue dreaming. *** A few weeks later, everything had turned to chaos, both in the Shelby household as in the whole of Birmingham. Tommy didn’t speak to anyone of what happened to you, he hadn’t even apologized, but he wasn’t like that. He told you he’d fix it, promised you revenge, and that was even better. When the men were counting minutes in front of the Garrison and Billy Kimber’s army arrived, you were sitting at home with a book. You couldn’t really concentrate, because you knew there were too many of them. You pretended some angel would appear to save them all. There’d have to be no bloodshed, because this angel would be on your brothers’ side. That angel came in the form of your older sister Ada. She’d always had flair. In the end, only two bullets were fired. You listened to them both. One killed Danny Whizz-bang. The other killed Billy Kimber. Nobody knew, but as Tommy fired, he didn’t have business on his mind.

As he aimed, he saw his little sister’s face, all bruised and battered.

He whispered, “for Y/N,” and shot.

Bang.

***

Masterlist

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calummss · 3 years ago

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Time | Gilbert Blythe

masterlist

summary: time can fix a lot of things if you let it

words: 1.5K

requested by: anon

It’s been six months since Gilbert Blythe left. Six months without the boy you love so dearly. Six months without your friend. Gilbert had made short notice plans only days after his father’s funeral. When John Blythe died it felt like a never ending fog swept across Avonlea. You remember Mr. Blythe from your childhood. He was a very kind man that took good care of you, so when the news of his passing had arrived at your parent’s house you felt a heavy pit in your stomach. You were saddened by his death and couldn’t imagine what Gilbert was going through and sent him a pie the same day, knowing he would have a hard time preparing food for himself. It has been months since you attended the funeral and you remember it like it was yesterday.

‘Y/N dear, make sure to wear your black straw hat.’ your mother called up to your room.

You grabbed your hat and gently placed it on your head not wanting to mess up your curls. You took one last look in your mirror and hurried downstairs to see your father, mother and younger brother waiting for you. You quickly grabbed your shoes and tied them up.

‘I sure hope Gilbert’s okay,’ you spoke into the room feeling uneasy about the next couple of hours.

‘You’ll be able to see for yourself once we arrive.’ your mother said, adjusting your hat. She placed her hands and your shoulder and smiled.

‘Come one now, the carriage is waiting.’ your father announced and opened the door to reveal a coat of snow that painted the countryside. You stomped through the snow and sat yourself to the far left of the carriage as your mother, father and brother followed. The coachman lightly whipped the horse and you were on your way. When you arrived at the Blythe’s family burial site you saw the carriage that pulled Mr. Blythe’s casket towards the hole. You also saw Gilbert leading the line of people. You saw the pain in his eyes. His sparkly brown eyes were now dull, and glossed with his salty tears. His cheerful smile with those dimples you so loved, disappeared and weren’t to be seen. His posture was slouched and his head hanging from his shoulders on a thread. Your family and you respectfully walked up to the crowd that was gathered for a prayer in honour of his father. You saw Anne, Diana, Ruby, Jane, Tillie and Josie, all spread out throughout the crowd. You locked eyes with Anne and gave her a warm quick smile before turning away. When the service was over everyone gathered at the Gilbert House for some tea and conversation. You stood next to your mother, plate in your hands but you weren’t in the mood to eat. You set it aside and walked around the house to look for Gilbert. He probably needed someone to talk to. Once you searched around the house and almost gave up, you saw him outside in the front yard. You grabbed your coat, scarf and hat and rushed down the front steps.

‘Gilbert!’ you yelled after him.

Gilbert turned around with a surprised face, yet his eyes still carried his sadness within.

‘Are you leaving?’ you pushed your hands deeper into your pockets.

‘I can’t stand being in that house. Everyone wants to comfort me but I just want to be left alone.’ he confessed.

His hat draped over his forehead making it hard to make out his facial expression.

‘Where are you going?’ you asked him as he didn’t seem to stop walking.

‘I don’t know, the lake perhaps.’

‘May I join?’

He nodded and continued to look straight ahead.

After some time you arrived at the small lake in the forest you always went to after school in the summer. Everyone would meet up to bathe in the sun kissed water but everyone was happy and enjoying themselves. Today’s occasion was the opposite. You sat on a tree trunk and pulled your gloves from your pockets. Gilbert sat next to you and stared at the frozen water. He found comfort among the empty woods. You felt like giving him alone time and told him that you were going back to the house. That was the last time you saw Gilbert. Days after he packed his things and left on a ship. He left a note with a few details so that Avonlea wouldn’t erupt in fear of a murder or some sort.

During the first three months you would leave letters at Gilbert’s house in case he came back unannounced; just like he left, but you stopped soon after, after you realised that he wouldn’t be coming back for a long time.

You were peacefully sleeping in your bed when a loud thud awoke you. Your eyes were squinted due to the sun rays shining on your face. You got out of bed and started to get ready. Anne would be arriving any minute now. You always walked to school together. It was safer and more fun. When you rushed out of the door you saw Anne waiting on your doorsteps with an extra bottle of milk. You walked to school and noticed a large crowd gathered in front of the doors. Noticing the rest of the girl you walked up to them to ask what was going on.

‘Ruby!’ you called out and saw her spin around with a big smile on her face. ‘What’s going on?’

‘It’s Gilbert!’ she cheered loudly.

Your eyes went wide as you stared back at Anne. She had the same look painted across her face.

‘What do you mean ‘Gilbert’?

‘My uncle who works at The White Sands Hotel said that Gilbert passed through the place. Supposedly he was working on a ship!’ Ruby’s face was gleaming with joy. ‘He was covered in coal ashes.’

‘Is, Is Gilbert here? At school?’ you asked intriguingly.

‘I haven’t been inside but I don’t believe so. He’s probably at home.’ Diana chimed in.

You had to see him. You just had to. Knowing he was back and not knowing if he’d part again you ran back towards the forest. You made your way through the foggy woods and ran up to Gilbert’s house. You went up to the door and knocked on the door like your life depended on it. A few seconds later a man, whom you’ve never seen before opened the door.

‘Hello, who are you.’ he said in a strong accent.

‘Is Gilbert here?’

‘Yes, he is.’ the man smiled at you before he shouted at the top of his lungs. ‘Gilbert! There’s a girl wanting to talk to you.’

‘I’ll just come in.’ you smiled before slipping through the door.

‘Y/N?’ Gilbert sounded surprised. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘What are you doing here?’ mimicked him.

‘It’s good to see you.’

Gilbert seemed happier than the last time you saw him. His teary eyes were now filled with joy. He seemed...okay, and you didn’t want to take that away from him but he couldn’t just show up and pretend like nothing happened.

‘Why did you leave?’

Gilbert’s back stiffened and shifted onto his other leg. He looked down at the floor not making eye contact with you.

‘Can you at least look at me.’ a hint of disappointment and annoyance coating your words.

‘I needed to get away from here.’

‘You left without a goodbye and you left without telling anyone. Do you know what it feels like? To see your friend leave you behind?’ you raised your voice. ‘You could’ve at least told me. I didn’t know when you were coming back. I thought you left me!’

‘Y/N, I’m sorry but I wasn’t in a good headspace and needed distance from this god forsaken town.’ he stormed past you. The man that had answered the door was long gone. Only the presence of the two of you filled the cold house.

‘Distance from me?’

‘I never said that.’ his irritated voice erupted from the back of the pantry.

‘Sounds like it to me!’ you yelled back, angrily stomping after him.

‘Why are you picking a fight with me, Y/N.?’

‘A fight?’ you stared at him in disbelief. ‘Picking a fight with you? I came over because Ruby was swooning over your return and I came here to make sure it was true. To-see-if -my-friend-who-left-me-without-a-trace-of his-existence-came-back!’ you snapped in one breath.

You had enough and quite frankly didn’t know what to do anymore. The person you loved so dearly had hurt you in a way that you couldn’t understand. Gilbert sat down at his wooden table and stared at you for a few seconds before talking.

‘What can I do?’ he said.

‘What can you do? I don’t know, what can you?’

‘Y/N, I’m serious. I don’t want this friendship to end over this.’

‘You think I want this? I’m just upset that you left me if you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Please tell me what I can do.’ he pleaded out.

He stood up and took your hands into his. His brown eyes stared into your as your breath hitched.

‘I-I don’t know.’ you confess as you slid your hands out of his and turned your back towards him. ‘Nothing can fix this except time.’

You walked towards the door looking back at Gilbert once more.

‘Time can fix a lot of things if you let it.’

#awae #awae imagine #anne with an e #anne of green gables #anne shirley cuthbert #period drama #anne x gilbert #gilbert blythe #gilbert blythe imagine #gilbert blythe imagines #gilbert blythe blurb #gilbert blythe blurbs #gilbert blythe headcanon #gilbert blythe headcanons #gilbert blythe angst #gilbert blythe fluff #gilbert blythe x you #gilbert blythe x reader #gilbert blythe x y/n

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baka-monarch · 2 years ago

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Sam Nook's Side Kick

(I finally started writing my fnaf au! Here's part 1!)

Trigger warning: child murder, murder, death, blood

-------------------------------------------------------

Dweam do you tink they still have the hard hats?" Tommy's voice invaded his brother's senses, making the newly ten year old jolt.

"I dunno Toms, they probably already moved onto whatever other kids want by now-" Dream responded, fixing his birthday sash by looking at his reflection in the window.

"But- but Sammy needs a hard hat! He could get huuuurrrrt!!!!" The five year old shouted, shoving his raccoon plushie into Dream's face as if that would emphasize his point.

"Toms, Sam is a stuffed animal, he can't feel pain." The elder gave the plushie's head a squish, making Tommy snatch his toy away from him.

"No! Sammy is a person like us and feels so many things- like pain!!!" The blue eyed boy argued, gently rubbing his toy's head to comfort it as Dream rolled his eyes.

"Sure…" Was Dream's only response.

"Stop fighting boys, we're heeeerrreeeee!" They're mom's voice cut in, and Dream could already hear Tommy's feet kicking against the chair in excitement. Sam's Burger Nook was outside the car windows, looking bright as ever. It was always a happy place, and Tommy's favorite restaurant (Dream's too- but he wasn't about to admit that now that he was a whopping ten years old!).

"Let me ooooouuuuut!" Dream looked over at his younger brother who was currently struggling in his booster seat. Tommy could unbuckle himself, but he was still having trouble learning how to use a seatbelt.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Their mom laughed as she got out to help Tommy. While they were doing that Dream got out of the car and followed his dad into the restaurant excitedly. A wave of excitement hit the ten year old as he walked in the doors and saw the familiar woodland aesthetic and fake trees around the restaurant, along with the loud games and laughter from children. His father led Dream to the back where a table was already set up for his party and waiting for his family and friends to arrive, set right in front of the stage where the animatronics performed.

"Now, stay here Dream and wait for your friends while I help your mother get the presents." His dad explained before leaving.

"Okay!" Dream shouted after him, then climbed up to sit in one of the seats at the table. It wasn't long before his younger brother was running up to him and trying to climb into the seat next to him.

"Dweeeeeeaaaaam!!!!" The younger cried dramatically. "The hard hats are goooooooooonnnneeeee!" Dream rolled his eyes.

"I told you." He snarked but Tommy only fake cried harder.

"Ew, why is your brother here?" A familiar accented voice rang out and Dream turned around excitedly to see George.

"Uh- because he has to be here-" Dream tried to explain before getting cut off by five year old sobs.

"My Sammy will never be safe noooooowww!!!!" Tommy hugged onto Dream making the older have to push him off and onto the floor where Tommy rolled under the table. George sat I'm the chair Tommy had just fallen out of.

"Don't tell me he's going to be following you around all day…" George frowned.

"Well-"

"Dweeeaaam, can we make a hard hat?" Tommy pulled on his brother's shoe to get his attention, making Dream sigh.

"I guess so…" Dream frowned. This was going to be a long and annoying tenth birthday…

After a while of talking with George and ignoring Tommy his brother had gotten distracted by their mom asking the young boy to help with carrying in presents. Which left Dream with a moment of peace with George and his other friends as they started showing up. Sapnap, Punz, Karl, Tina, Hanna, and others kept coming until it was time to go play games. Each kid was given a cup full of tokens and sent off to enjoy the arcade by themselves- all except Dream who was tasked to keep Tommy with him since they were too old to be by himself yet.

Dream let out an annoyed growl as Tommy jumped in front of him- FOR THE TENTH TIME- again to start playing a game before he could. "Wooooaaahhhh! Dweam this game is so poggers!" The five year old said, oblivious to Dream's annoyance.

"I know! I was about to play it!" Dream grunted and Tommy looked back at him with a smile.

"Now we can play it together!" He laughed then turned back to the game, not noticing as Dream let out a quiet shout of annoyance and hid his face in his hands.

"Why don't you just tell him to fuck off?" Sapnap whispered from next to him.

"Because it's my 'responsibility'" Dream made air quotes, "to make sure nothing happens to him…" The blond rolled his eyes, wondering why his parents weren't doing that since it's his birthday.

"Weeelll….." Sapnap munched on a bag of fries. "Some of the mascots are out walking around right now- why not send him to them?"

Dream looked at Sapnap for a moment, "Aren't they like- y'know- actually people in costumes?"

"Yeah, but if they work here then if a child goes missing while they're watching it then they'll get into more trouble right? So obviously they're perfect to watch the gremlin!" He reasoned, stuffing his face with more food.

"Hmmm… I guess you're right…."

"I'm always right-" Sapnap smiled, and Dream glared at him, knowing that definitely wasn't true.

"Whatever uuuuhhh-" Dream started looking around the restaurant and smiled when he saw the Sam Nook costume walking around. He tapped Tommy in the shoulder.

"Hm?" The child turned to him.

"Hey Tommy look!" Dream pointed at Sam Nook. "It's Sam Nook, why don't you go say hi!"

Tommy gasped excitedly. "SAM NOOK!!!!" He shouted and didn't waste any time running off to his favorite raccoon. He didn't notice the older kids fist pumping and laughing behind him as he shouted, "MAYBE I CAN GET A HARD HAT!!!"

•••

"SAAAAAAAMMMM!!!!" Tommy shouted as he ran up to his hero, smiling brightly up at the taller big man. "Sam Sam Sam! I'm your biggest follower!" Tommy shouted up at him.

"Well isn't that something amazing!" Tommy gasped when his hero actually responded! He never did that when not on stage! "As my biggest fan do you want the biggest prize kiddo!"

Tommy nodded enthusiastically. "Heck yeah! I'm the biggest man and should get the biggest and bestest prize of them all!!!"

"Of course you should! Which is why…" Sam Nook leaned in really close to Tommy and whispered. "I'm going to make you my sidekick!" Tommy gasped.

"Really!?"

"Yeah! Anything for my biggest fan!" Sam Nook took his hand and Tommy started to wiggle excitedly. "Here, I'll take you to my special room where all my friends go to get their presents!"

"Yaaaayy!!!" Tommy shouted as he followed Sam Nook to a mostly hidden door that opened up into a dark room. Once Tommy was inside Sam Nook closed the door behind them and dropped something jingly on the floor.

"Now to be my best friend I need to make you look like me!" Sam Nook said, walking over to something big on a table while Tommy happily followed.

"Yeah! Yeah! Oh- can I have a hard hat?" He asked, hopping up and down and smiled when his hero chuckled fondly.

"Of course you can, you need to stay safe right?" Sam Nook ruffled Tommy's hair and made the child feel like the most amazing person in the world. "Now, here's some special clothes to make you just like me!" Sam Nook started using a metal tool to open something up and Tommy bounced a little more. "Are you ready kiddo?"

"Yeah yeah yeah!" Tommy laughed as Sam Nook picked him up and put him inside of the thing then began closing it.

"You'll now be my best friend forever!"

•••

Woohoo!!!" Dream cheered as he ran back to the party table. His mom had just called out to all the kids that it was time for cake, and they were all running back now.

"Dream? Where's Tommy?" Was his mom's first question as soon as Dream arrived.

"Oh, he went to go see Sam Nook!" Dream replied happily.

"Well can you go get him so he won't miss out on cake?" She crossed her arms with a stern look. Dream rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Fiiiiiiiine…" The child walked off immediately going towards a specific wall. A few minutes ago he'd spotted 'Sam Nook' leading his brother into a mostly hidden room. Dream approached the painted over door and grabbed the handle with a sign on it that said 'Employee's only'... That's weird… he thought to himself as he opened the door. Why would Tommy be brought in here if it was only for-

Dream's thoughts cut off as he looked inside the door to see someone in a bloodied Sam Nook consume standing in front of an animatronic… that the bloodied and mangled corpse of his brother was inside of, still hugging his plushie. The employee noticed the light and stopped touching the dead body and ran to a darker part of the room- allowing for the child's bloody body to fall onto the floor with a small splat.

Dream was shaking. His breathing was sparse and he could feel tears in his eyes. The more he realized that Tommy was dead, the more he felt it build up inside him. He didn't know what it was but he hated it… Tommy was dead…

Dream screamed.

It wasn't long until a crowd of adults surrounded him, all of them muttering different things, some crying, some hyperventilating- all of them had different reactions. None of them screamed.

"Dream….?" A weak, familiar voice spoke up. It sounded like Tommy but, their body didn't move. "Dream… I- I'm scared I- I can't- I can't f- feel any- anything…" Dream started crying and hyperventilating more. No no no no- Tommy was dead! He was dead! Dream saw it! "Every… everything is so… so big now.. can you please…" His eyes widened as he thought he saw their plushy love a little. No way… "I- I want a hug pl- please… it's+ it's scary, a- and everything is l- loud-" They sounded like they were crying. Dream didn't wait any longer, he rushed inside and picked up their plushie and squeezed it into a hug… he could feel their warmth in it. "Than- tank you…"

"Dream what are you-" His mom started to say but he cut her off with a wet, terrified chuckle.

"He's- he's still here! Tommy- he's- he's in the plushie!" Dream went up to her, still hugging the bloodied toy he was sure his brother was now.

"Oh honey…" His mom frowned, and he knew she didn't believe him but-

"But I know! He talked to me, can't- can't you hear him mom!" He looked up at her hopefully as he heard Tommy say 'mom' in his head. She only frowned sadly at him. "D- dad?" He looked up at their dad, who only glared back, making him shrink in on himself and hug Tommy more protectively. "But… but it's him it really… it really is…"

"That's enough Dream." Their dad said sternly. "Go wait in the car while we handle this."

"But-"

"And stop spewing nonsense. You found his body, you should know that Tommy is dead and is never coming back." Tommy whimpered and Dream hugged him tighter.

"Honey-"

"Now go to the car!" Dream sniffled and started crying as he left, keeping Tommy close to himself. He knew it was them, he just knew it, even if no one else could tell it was his brother he knew for a fact that Tommy was still with him.

•••

Dream stayed in his room mostly after that. Just making sure Tommy was okay, keeping him clean and safe since their parents still didn't believe him. While that was happening he could overhear them through the walls and listened in about the lawsuit on the restaurant. It was agreed Sam's Burger Nook company would pay for the funeral, but the lawsuit went no further as it was explained how springlocks worked- they had to be cranked to make it safe to wear the same costumes as the animatronics, and if done improperly or not at all the mechanical parts would stab through and kill any human inside. The story went that an employee had left the door unlocked and Tommy must've wandered inside, and climbed into a costume wanting to be Sam Nook, resulting in a springlock failure….

But Dream knew that's not what actually happened. Dream knew someone had purposely led Tommy into that room, and after a year Tommy eventually told him what happened. When Dream had walked in the Green Man (as Tommy had come to call him) was in the middle of moving his body out of the suit- most likely to bury him, Dream assumed- but because of Dream's interference they hadn't gotten enough time to hide Tommy or himself, so he'd dropped Tommy's body and run.

Dream did try to tell people the truth, but there was no proof, and the words of a child claiming he heard his dead brother's voice was nothing compared to the claims of a rich corporation known for child safety precautions. Eventually he gave up and just focused on keeping Tommy safe…. Even if he became known as a little bit crazy amongst strangers in the process. There wasn't really much else he could do….

"You could get a job as a night guard and find some proof."

#mcyt!au #mc fnaf au #tw child death #tw child murder #tw child harm #tw murder #tw blood

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cryonme · 3 years ago

Text

𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐕

PART FIVE- “Just Because They’re Not Here Doesn’t Mean They Stopped Being Wonderful.”

part one here

part two here

part three here

part four here

short series- jj maybank x kook!reader

word count- 4.3k

tw- guns, knives, mentions of weed, stabbing, swearing, mentions of death, fluff 😊, angst 👿, mentions of murder, fighting, drinking, mentions of stitches and hospitals. lmk if I missed anything

a/n- don’t u all love how I said this was gonna be a “short” series and now we’re at 19.2k words total and five parts? and not even done yet? lol. anyway, this chapter is a fucking rollercoaster of emotions and shit gets really real really fast so hold onto your hats, grab some popcorn, and happy reading!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Your friends all stared at you with wide eyes, mouths agape. JJ’s grip tightened on your thigh, you winced a little but he didn’t let up, which you were glad he didn’t.

“Wait, your mom is dead?” John B asked, earning a smack on the back of the head from Sarah.

“You had a sister?!” Pope explained, confusion plastered on his face. “I thought that was just a ru- OW!” A smack from Kiara.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Yeah.”

“You think you know a person then all of the sudden she has a dead mom and sister who were killed by her step brother that you didn’t know about.” John B said, a hint of humor in his voice.

“This isn’t funny, John B.” Sarah scolded.

“It’s fine, Sarah.” You assured your friend. “Look, I know I’m a shit friend for not telling you guys things about my life. Tyler, the abortion, my mom and sister. And I’ll work on getting better at it but all of that isn’t important right now, okay?” You looked between John B and Pope, waiting expectedly before they both nodded and backed off.

“What makes you say that, (Y/n)?” Kie asked you, fully turning her attention to you.

“Well when- um, when Tyler showed up at my house that day,” You swallowed your fear, sitting up straight and taking a deep breath. “When Tyler showed up at my house that day, he said ‘I did everything I could to get my mom to marry your dad. My mom doesn’t know, but what she doesn’t know won’t kill her, and now you’re ruining everything with your fat fucking mouth.’”

The room was silent. Nobody really knew what to make out of all of this, all this time you had come off so unbothered, like your life was picture perfect and there was never a dark cloud in your sky. Everything that had happened the past couple of weeks came out of nowhere for the group of friends, especially JJ, John B and Pope, who didn’t even know you had a step brother. But when the three thought back on it, they never really asked.

After about a minute of everyone sitting in shock, Sarah spoke up, “Well, we need to tell your dad and Christine, right?’

You shook your head, “Not until I have enough proof. The entire island’s eyes are on me right now and if I’m wrong I make a fool of myself. I know this is gonna sound really stupid but, I need to find Tyler.”

“No.” JJ protested, his voice sharp.

“You’re right, (Y/n). That does sound stupid.” Pope agreed.

“Super stupid.” John B chimed in.

“I love you, but I have never heard more stupid words leave your mouth.” Kiara said.

“Guys, maybe hear her out.” Sarah said.

Kie whipped her head to the side, looking at the blonde girl in bewilderment. “Seriously? I’m not listening to you when all you seem to do is put (Y/n) in more danger.”

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know what the fuck to do!” “You tell someone, dumbass!”

“Jesus, you two! Shut the fuck up!” You interjected, standing up and stomping your foot, ignoring the shooting pain going up your leg.

“I came here because I need help, not to sit here and be judged and have you two fight with each other. Kie, lay off. I begged Sarah not to say anything until I was ready, and promised not to go home until I said something, okay? And you two.” You gestured to John B and Pope, “Telling me I’m stupid for something that I haven’t even explained yet is a little premature. Can we all fucking focus?” You had your time to cry and allow yourself to be broken, but now it was time to get shit done.

Kie shrunk in her seat, muttering a half assed “Sorry” under her breath and crossing her arms. John B and Pope nodded, both boys looking down at their shoes. You sat back down and JJ’s hand returned to its rightful spot on your thigh.

“Now, just, listen to me for a second. We,” You put the emphasis on that word so everyone would be a little bit more open to the idea, “Need to find Tyler so we can somehow record a confession from him. I’ll rile him up, and once I get the confession we get the fuck out. Got it?”

“How the fuck are you gonna find him? Even the Sheriff's department can’t find him.” Sarah said.

��Right,” You responded, “First thing to consider, the police are incompetent, especially here. They probably looked at my house and his job before giving up.”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head as he listened to you talk in awe.

“Second thing to consider, I have his number. I can ask him to meet up and talk it out.”

“The more you talk, the more I really don’t like this plan.” JJ muttered, raking his fingers through his hair.

“The more you talk, the more I wanna kick your teeth in.” You smiled sweetly, “This is the only way.” You tried pulling a joke, but JJ’s face remained concerned, so your face fell and you leaned into him. “I’ll be okay, JJ. I’ve been dealing with Tyler for years, okay?”

JJ nodded, taking a deep breath before pulling away from you.

“So what can we do?”

“Wherever I meet up with Tyler, I need you all to be on standby. Someone on lookout, someone hiding near me just in case things go south, and someone waiting in the vam.”

Everyone agreed in unison, nodding their heads. “Anything we can to get this asshole put away.” John B said, giving you an encouraging smile.

After going over a few details, and finally sending the text to Tyler that you wanted to meet up, the pogues dispersed around the chateau. Pope was talking Sarah’s ear off about the latest book he had just finished while she politely listened and even threw in a couple of her own thoughts, John B and Kie playfully jabbed long sticks at each other, and JJ stood on the porch, watching you swing by yourself on the hammock, lost in thought. He was trying to decide if he should approach you, or give you space. Just then you turned your head and made eye contact with the blond boy, a soft smile on your face, your signature red lipstick back where it belongs.

Fuck space.

He bounded down the stairs and made his way over to you on the hammock, plopping down next to you. Neither of you said anything for a couple minutes, there wasn’t much to say.

“I was 14.” You said, breaking the silence, causing JJ’s head to turn towards you. He stayed silent as you continued.

“Hit and run.” You laughed bitterly. “My little sister was 12. We were finally getting to the point where we didn’t fight everyday, we were becoming friends. She had just started asking me for advice about boys and was always asking to have sleepovers.” You smiled, remembering your little sister fondly. “It still hurts. It’ll always hurt, I think. But, I’ve learned I can’t change what happened, and I try to be thankful for the time I had with her. I would say she probably wouldn’t want me to be sad, but that’s not true, she loved attention.” JJ laughed with you this time.

“What’s her name?” JJ asked.

“Layla.” You responded, her name feeling weird on your tongue. You hadn’t said her name in years. “And my mom, gosh there was no one like my mom.” JJ wasn’t asking, but you were telling.

“She just always understood, you know? She’d let me stay home if my mind was taking over, she continued to buy the ice cream I told her was my favorite when I was 7, I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t like it anymore.” You frowned, staring at your hands. “Christine is great, I love her with everything in me. But sometimes I wish she was in my life under different circumstances.”

JJ nodded in understanding, taking his hand in yours and pressing a lingering kiss to it. “They sound wonderful.”

“They are- were.”

JJ shook his head, “Just because they’re not here doesn’t mean they stopped being wonderful.”

You yanked JJ’s hand so his arm wrapped around your shoulder and you leaned into him, earning a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

“You’re sweet, princess.” You teased, using the nickname that you would use when the two of you fought.

“Tell anyone and you’re dead meat, baby.”

You laughed, resting your head on his chest. “What changed your mind about me?” You asked, biting your bottom lip.

JJ thought for a moment, mulling over his words to avoid saying the wrong thing.

“I never changed my mind.”

Your heart dropped as you began to pull away, feeling embarrassed.

“Uh uh uh, let me finish.” JJ pulled you back against him and you huffed. “I never changed my mind because I’ve felt this way about you all along. I’ve never had such strong feelings for a person before, so when you came along I mistook all of the signs as hatred. My mom left and my dad…” JJ trailed off for a moment, trying to put together his words in the least concerning way possible, “My dad takes his anger out on me. And I just never really learned how to receive love, or how to understand it.”

Your heart sank at JJ’s words. All those times he’d show up to the Chateau with bruises and scrapes, telling everyone to fuck off instead of boasting about how he “totally kicked that kooks ass”, it was his dad.

“JJ-”

“Mmm, let’s not do that now, yeah? Just know I’ve adored you this whole time, I was just too stupid to see it.”

“When did you change your mind about me?” JJ asked.

You pondered for a moment, thinking back on when you first started thinking of JJ differently.

“That night at the Boneyard, when Tyler showed up. I was dancing with Pope and all I could think was, ‘I need JJ’, and then there you were. I didn’t want you to ever leave my side again. When you took me back to the Chateau and sat me down on the couch, I was confused because I felt so safe and loved, more than I ever have. It was so out of the blue. Hours before we had just been screaming at each other and then I never wanted you to let me go.”

“You’re making this really hard, Red.” JJ huffed, running a hand over his face.

“What?” You asked craning your neck to look up at him.

“Not kissing you.”

You sat up from your position on his chest, turning your body so you were facing each other, your legs hanging off one side of the hammock and his off the other.

“Then kiss me.”

“(Y/n)...”

“What, scared?”

JJ didn’t say anything, he just looked at you. You had that striking red grin, and your eyes held that glint of mischief and joy.

“You were just inconsolable like, an hour ago.”

“But I’m not now.”

“I-”

“Please, JJ.” You pouted, your eyes big and your frown deep as you slowly reached for him.

And he couldn’t say no to that face.

He slowly brought his hand up to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek as his face slowly leaned into yours, his hand softly pulling you closer by the neck. You brought one hand up to the back of his neck, burying your fingers in his hair as his other hand found its place on your waist. You stared at each other for a moment, noses barely touching. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it was about to crawl out of your throat, the anticipation was driving you crazy but you were also cherishing every second of it, just being so close to him, knowing what’s about to happen.

His lips just barely brushed over yours and your entire body erupted in butterflies, goosebumps dancing all up and down your arms and legs.

“You fucker.” You teased and JJ giggled before fully planting his lips on yours. You felt like you had been on fire and had been dumped into an ice bath. The relief that covered your entire body and soul was something you had never felt before. You had kissed plenty of people in your lifetime, and nothing had ever compared to the feeling you had kissing JJ.

You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath, but JJ whined and pulled you back into him, bringing you to sit on his lap as he continued to kiss you. You both giggled and broke apart when you nearly toppled out of the hammock, JJ’s hands immediately steadying you. He looked up at you while stroking your cheekbone with his thumb before planting soft kisses to your arm, trailing his lips up to your shoulder, neck, cheek and finally one last sweet kiss on your lips.

“Well it’s about goddamn time!” John B yelled as the rest of the pogues whooped and hollered, jumping up and down. Both of you flipped off your friends and JJ kissed you once more, your middle fingers still in the air.

“You’re fucking incredible.” JJ muttered once you broke yet another kiss.

“I know.” You smirked.

Once JJ helped you off the hammock, with a lot of wincing and you telling him his kissing made your bruised lip hurt, you made your way back over to your friends, an unmistakable feeling of joy filling everyone’s hearts.

John B handed you and JJ a beer, which you had to decline because of your concussion, much to your dismay, but you gladly took the joint that Kie offered you, blowing out the smoke into JJ’s mouth before taking the hit for yourself. The sun started to set on the Chateau, so Pope and John B set up a fire and Kie brought out her ukulele, her and Sarah singing in harmony to Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. Your heart swelled in your chest listening to JJ quietly singing along with his arm slung around your shoulders, his face was tinted the slightest shade of pink from being in the sun all day, making his eyes look impossibly more blue. You knew tomorrow brought troubles and anxiety, but you pushed them to the back of your mind, enjoying this beautiful moment with your friends. You rested your head on JJ’s shoulder, your hand coming up to hold his that was around your shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on his hand. JJ blushed and squeezed you just a little bit tighter.

“(Y/n), you staying the night?”

You smiled and nodded, your eyes a bit droopy from the weed. You had texted Christine already, telling her you were staying the night and assuring her that everyone was staying the night and you were safe.

“Yes!” Sarah exclaimed, getting up from her spot next to John B. “More beer?” Everyone apart from you nodded as Sarah made her way inside the house to grab more cold beer.

“Aw, well if it isn’t the goonies.”

That voice.

Tyler approached the Chateau, Topper, Kelce and Rafe hot on his heels.

Everyone stood up immediately, JJ pushed you behind him without a second thought.

“Heard my baby sister wanted to meet up tonight, thought I’d come to her, spare her the trouble.” Tyler said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You were appreciative of JJ’s protectiveness over you, but this was your fight. “I know what you did, Tyler.” You said, trying your hardest to hide the shakiness in your voice as you pushed JJ out of your way, taking a couple steps forward.

“There she is!” Tyler exclaimed, gesturing his arms to you. “You don’t know shit, dumbass.”

“You killed my mom and sister.”

“Me?” Tyler raised a hand to his chest in shock and turned to his friends, who all shook their heads like you were crazy. “I would never do such a thing.” “You said-”

“Did you hit your head too hard the other day? Sounds to me like you’re making things up.”

He was trying to make you feel crazy, and you weren’t putting up with it.

“What was your plan, huh?” You asked, standing your ground. “Hit my mom and my little sister with your car, devastating my family so my dad could go running into your unknowing mother’s arms. Were you gonna kill all of us next so you could get the money? How exactly did you plan on doing that?”

Tyler’s chest was heaving up and down, sharp breaths coming in and out of his nose.

“Layla was 12 years old, you psychopath.”

“I never meant to kill your fucking sister!”

And there it was. Eerie silence fell over the Chateau like a heavy blanket.

“You motherfucker.” You shrieked, stomping forward and sending your hand flying across his cheek. Before you could even blink, Tyler had his hand around your throat and the barrel of a gun pressed to your jaw. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. You could see the pogues, Kiara with a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes, hugging Sarah close to her, John B and Pope holding JJ back, his eyes wild with anger and fear. You could see Topper and Kelce with wide eyes, obviously unaware of the gun in your step brother's possession. You could see Rafe with a knowing grin on his face. Bastard.

You were terrified, panic surging through your body as you tried to stay still so you wouldn’t anger him with any sudden movements.

“Any of you even think about moving and I kill her!” He screamed.

“Tyler, put the gun down man, what the fuck?” Topper said, his voice calm, trying to talk him down.

“Fuck you!”

And suddenly Tyler was on the ground, the gun flying into the darkness. JJ wasted no time running to your step brother, grabbing him by his shirt collar and beating his face with his fists. You and Rafe made eye contact before both of you made a break for the gun, scrambling through the darkness. Rafe tackled you down and tried to reach for it, but you kneed him in the crotch, hoping to buy you a couple seconds. The Cameron boy groaned and held his area, toppling over and whining in a fetal position.

“Pussy boy.” You rolled your eyes and crawled toward the gun, smiling once it was in your grip before Rafe pulled you back by your ankle. You flipped over onto your back and pointed the gun at him.

“You don’t have the guts.”

“Self defense, bitch. Now get off of me.”

Rafe backed up with his hands in the air and you made your way back to the group, gun in hand, still pointed at Rafe. Tyler and JJ were going at it, both throwing punches and kicks, the rest of the group fighting off Topper and Kelce.

“Back off my friends or I'll shoot!” You yelled, and everyone stopped and turned to you with your gun pointed at Rafe. The three kooks backed off with their hands up in surrender.

“You won’t shoot me, Little Red.” Tyler said, walking closer to you.

“I will if you try anything.” You responded, taking the gun off of Rafe and shoving him forward so he was still in your eyesight, now pointing it at Tyler.

“You stay away from her!” JJ yelled, charging towards Tyler but quickly being held back by Rafe and Topper.

Tyler got so close to you that the gun was touching his t-shirt.

Why was he testing you? He had to have something up his sleeve.

The motherfucker literally had something up his sleeve.

Tyler tore a switchblade out of his jacket sleeve and jabbed it into your collarbone, and in the same second you fired the gun.

Your brain felt fuzzy, you couldn’t even feel the knife in your collarbone, the only way you knew it was there was because you could see it sticking out of the corner of your eye.

You heard screams, multiple screams.

Footsteps running away.

Was someone crying?

Were you crying?

Everyone ran to you, JJ leading the group, so he got to you first. He immediately put his hands on your face, frantically searching your eyes before you dropped to your knees, JJ following suit.

“Baby, look at me.” He said firmly. Someone gently took the gun from your hands, why were you still holding it? You brought your hand up to touch the knife, crying out in pain from the smallest touch.

“No, don’t touch it, okay? Leave it alone, paramedics are on their way okay?”

You still didn’t look at him, your eyes were wide as you stared at everyone around you, their faces full of concern.

“She’s in shock.” Pope stated. He was crouched in front of you, next to JJ. “Try to bring her back to reality.”

“How the fuck do I do that?” JJ snapped.

“Chill, JJ! Talk to her, touch her, anything!”

JJ’s left hand continued to cradle your face and you leaned into his touch as his right hand threaded through your hair. “You’re okay, okay? Can you talk to me?” His voice broke, tears beginning to fill his blue eyes.

Your eyes wandered away from the group and landed on Tyler’s body, lifeless. You let out a gasp as if all of the wind had been knocked out of your body.

“I killed him.” You rasped.

JJ quickly moved in front of the body, blocking your view of him. Your breathing was shallow as you brought your hands up to your neck, trying to claw at the skin to make way for you to breathe. Pope’s hands gently grabbed yours, moving them away from your neck and holding them in your lap. JJ gave him a thankful nod and he situated himself in front of you.

“Christine-” Your body flooded with guilt and sadness for your stepmom, that was her son. He may have done unspeakable things to you and her family but that was her son. And you killed him.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhh,” JJ was quick to stop the terrible thought. “You had to, okay? She’ll understand. Just focus on me, baby.”

You nodded and squeezed Pope’s hands, focusing your eyes on JJ’s.

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl. Just a couple more minutes, okay?”

You nodded again. The pain in your collarbone was beginning to worsen as your shock wore off and you whimpered.

Great, you thought, another fucking injury to make my life even better.

Really your whole body hurt, your concussion and bruises worsening and stitches ripping open from Rafe tackling you to the ground.

“It hurts.” You whine, a single tear escaping from your eye, JJ wiped it before it could run down your face. “I know.” He whispered. “I know, my love, I’m so sorry.” He rested his forehead on yours, trying his best to give you as much comfort as he could without pulling you against him and driving the blade further in.

“Fuck, you guys. We didn’t get a recording.” Kie said, slapping her palm against her forehead. You removed one hand from Pope’s and worked through your pain and brought your phone out of your back pocket, tossing it on the ground, not having enough strength to hand it to her.

John B picked it up and smiled, your phone had been recording the entire time, starting just a minute after Tyler made himself known at the Chateau.

“(Y/n), you magnificent kook.” John B said, giving your arm a squeeze. You had moved your forehead to rest on JJ’s shoulder, your body posed awkwardly to avoid the knife being touched, one hand still in Pope’s.

Everyone was relieved, but the dead body in their presence and the knife in your body made it hard to be completely relieved. Once the paramedics and police arrived, JJ had to release you from his hold, watching the paramedics put you on the gurney and load you in the back of the ambulance, by yourself, for the second time.

Kiara and Pope were talking to the police, showing them the proof on your phone and the gun and walking them through everything that happened while JJ watched the ambulance drive away, as soon as it was out of sight he broke down, John B quick to pull his friend into his arms, Sarah gently leaned her head on his back, her hand coming up to stroke his back

“She doesn’t deserve any of this.” JJ cried, holding onto his best friend. He knew you were gonna be okay, the paramedics said the knife would be easy to remove and they could stitch up the wound easily, but he was worried about you. You would never be the same.

“She doesn’t.” John B agreed.

“I just want her to be okay.”

“I know, bubba, me too.” John B replied, his own tears brimming in his eyes, “She will be.”

JJ could feel Sarah shaking against him, her tears wetting his shirt and he unravelved in arm from John B to bring her into the hug. “Get in here, kook princess.” JJ teased through his tears. Pope and Kiara soon joined the group hug, comforting their friends through touch.

“What did Shoupe say?” JJ asked once they all pulled away, wiping at his tears.

“They said (Y/n)’s okay, a very obvious case of self defense, but they’re still going to ask her a couple questions once she’s of sound mind.” Pope answered and Kiara nodded.

“Thank God.” Sarah breathed out and JJ’s shoulders relaxed in relief, one less thing to worry about.

“Well why are we all just standing here?” John B asked after a couple moments of silence. “Let’s go see our girl.”

“I am still meeeeee you are still youuuuu” I couldn’t get that damn song out of my head while I was writing this

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