#told him i’ll work the day before the 4th and also the 4th in return i just can’t do this monday 😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rorywritesjunk · 6 months

Text

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There’s 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I’m excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy! Also I wish every customer was like Buggy in that "I'm going to be an asshole but I'm going to overpay you for the opportunity to be an asshole".

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii. TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 2

It was five weeks until you saw that pirate again. You were at the counter while the girls were in the back working. Your boss was gone on an errand, leaving you in charge. This time he opened the door with a little less force than last time but the door still swung open and hit the wall. You looked up from your book and smiled when you saw him.

His coat had a tear at the sleeve where it connected to the shoulder and one cuff was nearly coming off. It looked like he got into a scuffle while wearing it. He was scowling as he stormed up to the counter, removing the coat and holding it out to you. You took it from him and looked it over with a frown.

“What happened?” You asked as you inspected the tear at the sleeve. “Did you get into a fight?”

You obviously chose to ignore what your boss had told you every day since he first showed up. Do not help him if he comes back. How could you not fix his coat up when it was in such a state? Not only were there tears in it, you saw the dirt staining the bottom and some blood on the front. You quickly gave him a look over, seeing that he appeared uninjured thankfully. You didn’t want to explain why there was a bloody and injured pirate in the shop if your boss returned early.

“Fix it.” He said, refusing to look at you.

“Do you need help? Are you injured at all, Captain?” You asked as you reached over the counter to touch one of his gloved hands. Buggy jerked his hand away from you and crossed his arms, shaking his head quickly.

“I’m fine!” He snapped. “I just need it fixed!”

“Can you give me some time?” You asked as you draped the coat over your arm. “I’d like you to wait here in case I need to see you in it.”

You saw his face turn red at those words but you didn’t know why. All you needed to see was that the seams on the sleeve were correct once you mended them, to make sure it still fit him in the shoulders when he moved in it. He glared at you before storming out of the shop.

“He came back.”

You turned to see the two teens peeking through the doorway to the back. You sighed softly and smiled. “He did and he gave me his coat to fix.”

“Miss Pins said not to help him.” Livia said as Edith nodded in agreement. You shrugged as you headed towards them.

“Well, I’m in charge right now so I get to decide who we help.” You told them. “Now, who remembers how to get blood stains out? I’ll do the mending but I’d like you two to clean it, okay? This will be good practice.”

Buggy returned two hours later. You were at the counter again with Livia, showing her the books and how customers and payments were tracked. The teenager ducked beside you when he came in but you just smiled. Why did you smile whenever you saw him? Buggy wasn’t sure what your game was but he was suspicious of you already. You should be quaking in fear when he arrived, not smiling like you were friends with him.

“Your coat is ready.” You told him as you nudged Livia to go retrieve it. “I got it stitched up and the girls cleaned it. Can I see it on you?”

“W-Why?” He demanded as he narrowed his eyes. Livia came out with the coat and started to leave but you stopped her. “What do you want me to do?”

“I need to make sure it fits you in your shoulders.” You told him as you took the coat from her and approached him. He took a step away from you but you held it out to him, and after a minute long stare down he finally pulled the coat on. You stood behind him as he made sure the fit felt good, and you put your hands on his shoulders again, smoothing out any creases and looking to see how it fit him. “Now, see, Livia, we want to make sure he has movement in his arms when he wears it, which is why I didn’t go in so far with my stitches when I repaired it.”

Buggy turned around to face you, scowling already, but you took his arm gently and lifted it up, showing her the cuff you reattached. “And see, you don’t even notice that this was hanging by a thread when he brought it in. I made sure to re-enforce this cuff as well as the other to ensure he wouldn’t have any issue.”

Livia stayed by your side, nodding along with what you said as she tried not to look at Buggy. How could she not stare at the bright red nose on his face? She wanted to ask if it was real, and did it honk if he squeezed it? Occasionally her eyes would go to his face while you talked about cleaning the stains and the best way to handle blood, but she really tried hard not to stare.

It was difficult and when she looked up at him one more time, he caught her looking and glared at her. She took a step back and ducked behind you as he opened his mouth to say something not nice to her.

“I’ll only bill you for what we did, but honestly it won’t cost much because you overpaid last time.” Your voice brought him back to you and he frowned. “So let us write that bill up real quick.”

He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “No, I’ll… pay the amount I owe.”

“Oh, but last time-”

“I’ll pay you what I owe.” He snapped as he reached into his pocket and slammed the berry down on the counter. He didn’t wait for the bill, instead storming out of the shop once again. You collected the payment and counted it out again, shaking his head. He kept paying too much and you were wondering if you should open a line of credit for him if he came back.

The girls did not like Buggy. They thought he was loud, rude, and too angry. Your boss still wanted you to refuse service to him if he ever showed his face again but you didn't find him to be a problem. He came back two weeks later to the shop while it was just you, coat draped over his arm with the scowl forever etched on his face, though not as intense as usual. You smiled at him when you saw him and he tried not to look at you as he held it out to you.

“What happened now?” You asked as you took it from him and placed it on a hanger. You hung it from a book on the wall and began to look for any rips or missing buttons. Buggy crossed his arms, still not looking at you. “Captain?”

“There are threads that are too long.” He grumbled. “I need them trimmed.”

“Oh.” That was a bit of an odd request. “Can you show me where?”

He came around to you, pointing out where the thread tails were. You grabbed your little scissors and trimmed them as short as you could; some were less than a quarter of an inch long, but if he wanted it done then you would do it. You took time looking for any other imperfections, noting that the lining was still intact from where you had repaired it the first time, and the shoulder and cuff repairs were still holding strong. One button at the top of his coat looked like it may come undone in the near future, so you ducked into the back to grab a needle and thread to repair it.

Buggy remained quiet as he watched you work. You were quick to remove the button and old thread, wanting to make sure there was no risk of the button snagging and falling off. Every repair on his coat meant one less chance for him to stop by. Being a captain, you were certain he was busy, and that making time to try and get his clothes fixed would eat up valuable time, so you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t need to return any time soon.

Once you finished, you held his coat out to him and smiled. “Can you try it on for me?”

“Why?” He replied as he did as you asked. Might as well since you ask him every time he’s come in so far. You stepped forward and made sure the collar laid flat before you buttoned the top button of his coat.

“I want to make sure it looks good on you.” You told him as you made sure the fit looked good. “I’m almost done with my apprenticeship and I was taught to make sure the customer was happy.”

Buggy frowned. “Why aren’t you scared of me?”

“Am I supposed to be?” You asked as you finished with the buttons and straightened up, looking him over. “It looks good on you.” Smiling, you gave him a thumbs up. “Orange is a great color on you, Captain Buggy.”

He didn’t want to but he couldn’t help it. His cheeks burned at your compliments because he knew it was your job to tell him that. You said this to every customer, paid attention to all their details as well, so why was he feeling flustered just from this interaction with you? He didn’t even know your name but this was his third time stopping in for your help in the shop. He needed to sail away and never come back at this point. He didn’t want to see you if it was going to mean he blushed and his heart started racing, but at the same time, you had been nothing but kind to him. It was a little hard to stay away when he looked forward to seeing you smile at him.

Buggy reached into his pocket and you held your hand out to stop him. “No, no, it’s fine, I won’t charge you, Captain.”

“I’m going to pay you.” He grumbled as he pulled out the money. He took your hand, ignoring how he could feel the warmth of your skin through his glove, and put the payment in your hand. He pulled away and was out the door before you could stop him.

These little visits of his were starting to be a little… interesting to you but for some reason you were starting to look forward to seeing him.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

117 notes · View notes

wellpresseddaisy · 7 months

Text

And Wishing I Was Gone, Going Home

Rather belated, but for the 4th prompt, Home.

His mother never told him magic had a smell.

She’d taught him so many things in their shabby kitchen in Cokeworth, but not that. He’d thought it her perfume, the subtle scent of petrichor and stormy seas that hovered about her, even on days it didn’t rain.

And girls like Lily, well they just smelled nice, didn’t they? She made him think of the first warmer days in spring and those little violets that sweetened the breezes.

He never noticed it on the train, too excited and then too annoyed to smell anything. It wasn’t until much, much later that he realized his housemates each had their own distinctive scent that grew stronger when they cast. Most of them he didn’t have names for until he’d had more experience in the world.

Some of them made him sneeze terribly, like Gareth Abernathy. Looking back, he felt a bit bad that Gareth had to be moved to a different dormitory, but it was either that or Severus moving. Lucius and the other prefects came out of that dorm grim-faced. They never told him what the boys said they’d do if Severus was the one moved.

Even Lucius didn’t know about his…talent. Something told him to keep it to himself. It gave him an edge, once he learned to navigate all the scents coming at him in a day. He nearly always smelled James Potter (grassy, overlaid with something too, too sweet) before he saw him.

He should have known the first time he met the Dark Lord that he couldn’t be trusted. His magic smelled of decay and dust, like the inside of a tomb. It crawled into Severus’ sinuses and stayed there, a constant reminder. Why had he pledged himself to that? He smelled like the darkest of the dark books in the Malfoy library, the ones Lucius pulled him away from with a sharp,

“I catch you near those again, my lad, and I’ll wallop you myself.”

His mark smelled the same way, blooming horribly every time Voldemort found something pleasing. He found it a small mercy that he carried the mark only a year or so before…before soft spring and tiny violets were ripped forever from the world.

The decay kept returning, though. Faintly, faintly he’d smell it through the next decade. He hoped, but he knew one day it would return as strong as ever.

He knew the Potter child would play a part in whatever came the first day of class. To see him snickering with the latest Weasley after Draco’s hours-long diatribe on Potter refusing his hand…he wasn’t sure if the headache or the mere existence of another Potter set his teeth on edge more.

Potter…Potter’s magic smelled of the green new growth in a forest. The underlay of it, though, stopped Severus in his tracks. Frankincense and myrhh, the scent of one laid to rest. He knew. In that moment he knew it would be Potter to end the Dark Lord’s reign, whenever it came.

He never knew how he made it through the years of waiting, always on guard, decay floating at the very edge of his senses. The return…that was almost a relief.

Something tickled his nose. Sandalwood and leather and warm feathers. He shifted and…bedlinen? Would his earthly torment never end?

That last night in the Shack…he’d known. Known it would come one day. Some part of the universe must have cared, because he closed his eyes the last time smelling not decay but the clean, astringent wash of frankincense and myrhh.

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

He breathed in, his chest caught on searing pain.

“Lie still, you ridiculous brat. Cissa’s been up three days keeping you from popping your cogs. If you destroy her hard work then we’ll certainly have words.”

Lucius. He’d know that scent and that supercilious drawl anywhere. And…sweet, clean lavender wafted over him.

Narcissa.

“She’s asleep, finally. You should also be asleep, as a hint.”

He managed an interrogative sort of noise.

Lucius sighed. “If you’re going to insist on being an obstreperous bratling, then I suppose I could sit with you for a while. You won’t be able to speak yet, so don’t even try.”

The familiar scold settled something within him. The bed dipped and Lucius sat carefully next to him. Cool fingers brushed his hair off his forehead.

“No fever, at least. If you get yourself into a froth she’ll put me six feet under, so we’ll do this calmly, please.”

It felt a bit as if he was a grubby firstie again.

“Would you like to know who found you?” Lucius asked.

Severus assented. Yes, he bloody well wanted to know who dragged him back to life (beyond Cissa, because of course she would).

Lucius’ low chuckle warmed him.

“Potter did. It always comes back to him, doesn’t it? He…I suppose I’d better tell you in sequence. You never liked a tale that hopped about in time.”

No, he did not.

“Did Potter see…what happened to you?”

Severus managed to shrug. He knew Potter saw the aftermath, but how much else was anyone’s guess. Knowing Potter, he saw all of it and had convinced himself it was all his own fault.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter in the end. We’re all free of it, you know? Whatever message you gave Potter, he did the thing properly and…came back, somehow. The Dark Lord’s reign is ended and somehow Potter convinced the Ministry that my family was coerced. How, I wonder, would he know I was given to the Dark Lord’s service as tribute by my father?”

The archly asked question had Severus freezing in place. Had Potter found…he had to have found what Severus left. He’d written it all down, everything he knew that no one else did, in the days leading up to the final battle. Trust the nosiest arsehole he’d ever had the misfortune of teaching to ferret it out.

“Ah, yes, apparently he also delivered quite the impassioned speech on the many ways the magical world has failed in the last several generations to the detachment of Aurors about to descend on my home. Thankfully the dossier information kept us from being arrested. I expect I’ll have some questions to answer.”

Severus agreed with that. But oh, what he’d give to see a memory of Potter doing that.

“Apparently, some time in the middle of the night, Potter remembered you and came charging up to the front doors, hammering on them and shouting. By the time we got down to open them, as we’d sent the elf on duty to bed, he’d been joined by the Weasley boy and that Granger chit who were unsuccessfully trying to calm him down.”

Severus snorted at that, but carefully.

“Quite,” Lucius agreed. “As with anything involving Potters, we unfortunately devolved into farce. Potter, who apparently never washed despite battle and being covered in what looked like most of your blood, having hysterics in the entry, shouting teenagers, such a wonderful scene. Granger kept trying to take over and the Weasley kept trying to shove them both behind him. Thankfully, Granger gave Cissa what she needed to know to mount a rescue and Draco got Potter calmed down.”

Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, he got an elf to bring some of that revolting tea you like, sugared it ‘til the spoon practically stood up, and barked at Potter that he’d either drink it or be stunned. Weasley didn’t like that much, but seemed mollified when Potter did as he was told. I confess that I don’t particularly like the way Draco looked at Potter, but I expect I shall have to bear up under whatever Draco tells us.”

Severus snorted again.

“Cissa, Granger, and I went to get you while Draco and Weasley handled Potter. You…Severus, if you ever do anything like that again I will kill you myself. You looked dreadful and it took all Cissa’s skill to drag you back from the brink. Your robes are a loss, I’m afraid. Our laundry elf burst into tears when asked if they could be saved.”

Trust Lucius to focus on something like robes.

“Then we spent the last three days not being arrested and keeping you from succumbing to your injuries. I think Draco has Potter ensconced somewhere. I believe I heard an argument with Weasley and Granger over that. Something about clearly no one else is taking care of him and he’ll let them know when they can visit.” Lucius sighed. “He’s like his mother.”

And, Severus thought, his father, who looked at a ragamuffin firstie and decided that clearly that child was his.

“I don’t want to hear one word from you.” Lucius tapped Severus gently on the nose, a fond smile softening his features. “You need sleep.”

He wanted to protest, to ask for the memory of Potter, covered in gore and having hysterics in the Hall, but he knew a futile gambit when he thought of one. Lucius could be as unbending as Merlin’s staff. He sighed.

“Yes, I know. If you behave for Cissa, we’ll share our memories.”

That would have to do. Severus let himself relax slowly, let the sandalwood and lavender of Lucius and Narcissa wash over him.

Home. They’d brought him home.

#severus snape #snapetober 2023

35 notes · View notes

marvellousimagines · 2 years

Photo

Wrote this imagine based on my own anxiety surrounding fireworks. While I can and do enjoy them, I get particularly jumpy when I’m stuck at home on the 4th of July, like today.

You felt bad. Not only was it the 4th of July, but it was also your boyfriend’s birthday. Ever since Tony found out that Steve was actually born on the same day as American Independence Day, he insisted on throwing a grand birthday-slash-holiday celebration. This was your first 4th of July with the Avengers, and you didn’t want to dampen anyone’s fun with how badly fireworks tended to spike your anxiety.

So you mingled with the others briefly for dinner, but as soon as the sun started to dip and Tony started to bring out some of the smaller fireworks to set off while waiting for the big show, you slipped away into your room.

You tried to drown out the noises from outside, but it seemed that nothing quite worked - music, video games, videos - you still jumped whenever there was a particularly loud bang or a flash of light that seemed to go off a little too close to the building for comfort.

You were wound up so tightly that when there was a knock on your door, you about jumped out of your skin. “Y/N, you okay? You’re missing out on some of the fun,” Steve’s voice came through the door.

“‘M fine,” you replied, trying to sound casual but missing the mark. “Don’t worry about me, you go enjoy your party.”

“I’m coming in,” Steve said. When there was no protest from you, he opened the door, frowning in concern as he saw you, wrapped up tight in a blanket despite the comfortable temperature. “Are you sure-”

Before he could finish the question, another loud firework went off and you flinched, and suddenly the situation seemed to click for Steve. He quickly walked over, settling on your bed next to you and wrapping a comforting arm around you, blanket and all, pulling you into his side. “You don’t like fireworks, do you?” he asked, tone gentle.

You shook your head. “The loud noise is bad for my anxiety, plus… I’ve experienced some close calls as a kid with fireworks misfiring. I’m afraid of someone getting burnt or something catching fire,” you admitted.

Steve rubbed your arm in a soothing gesture, and you leaned into him. You flinched again as you heard another loud bang, though your reaction wasn’t quite as bad with Steve now comforting you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asked, his voice gentle, not sounding angry or upset in the least.

“You deserve a fun birthday, and I knew how much everyone else looked forward to the party,” you replied. “I didn’t want my anxiety to put a damper on any of your fun. It’s just one night, I can deal with it.”

Steve, however, seemed to be contemplating something. “Wait here, I’ll be back in a sec,” he said, before getting up and leaving your room before you could say anything.

The next few minutes were surprisingly quiet, and you hoped Steve didn’t just cancel the fireworks show for your sake. However, he did finally return as promised, carrying a pair of large over-ear headphones.

“Tony’s about to start the big fireworks show. Bruce said you could borrow his noise-canceling headphones,” Steve explained, offering them to you.

You smiled, putting the headphones over your ears and connecting them to your phone for music, though not turning the music on just yet.

“I also asked Tony to move the setup for his show further down the driveway, away from the building. So, if you’re comfortable watching fireworks from a distance, with less loud noise, I’d love for you to join us.” Steve gave you a warm smile, holding his hand out to you.

You, however, bypassed his hand, instead jumping up to wrap him in a hug, still holding your blanket over your shoulders as you did so. “You are so sweet, thank you,” you told him. “I’ll gladly come out and enjoy the show, as long as you stay next to me. The blanket’s nice, but nothing helps soothe the anxiety quite like your arms.”

Steve gave a small chuckle. “Deal,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he walked you outside the Avengers Facility.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #Avengers #avengers imagine #happy birthday captain america #unspecified gender imagines

35 notes · View notes

yeahimaloser · 3 years

Note

Hi lovely! I adore your writing style and noticed you were taking requests. This is my first request ever so if it comes off a little awkward please forgive me! 👉👈

I was hoping for a scenario where Hawks has been wondering why y/n has been skipping out on get-togethers with him for the past week or two. He gets curious enough one day that he just-so-happens to patrol the area where you run off to after you reject another date with him.

He finds out that you have been going to an outdoor avian clinic and taking classes on how to pamper/massage or preen bird wings in order to surprise Hawks for your anniversary coming up.

But not like totally before Hawks confronts you and blurting out “Have you been cheating on me with a parrot?” 😂

Thank you! I hope this all makes sense. Hugs and kisses!

Hello there!! You are so sweet! and you didn’t come off awkward at all! <3

I am so sorry I didn’t actually mean for this to become an angst fic in the beginning ;-;

but it is fluffy don’t worry!

warnings: avian Keigo (Keigo having bird like tendencies)

Also I schedule this to be a bit later than I normally post, I’ll most likely be asleep when this goes up so I just wanted to say to everyone thank you for reading!!

word count: 3.3k

------

He tapped his foot against the floor of the restaurant, his patience deteriorating every second as he stared at the door.

As the fastest hero, Keigo never really had any patients for just about anything. One thing he hated more than anything was people being late, he moved fast, he wanted people to move fast with him.

All he wanted to do was go on a nice date night, have some dinner, and go home and watch a movie or something. He just wanted to spend time with you.

You normally never skipped out on dates, so why now?

He had noticed your absence in the last few weeks, more and more you would skip out on him.

The anxiety bubbling in his heart was starting to spill over, seeping into his attitude in daily life. In his head, he wondered if maybe you were trying to signal to him that you weren’t interested in dating anymore, that maybe you were just silently drifting from him. But he loved the 11 months he got to spend with you, he’d never experienced anything like it. It was fresh, new, loving, he didn’t want it to end. Those thoughts had made him feel miserable for the last week or so, but he was still confused by you. Although you skipped out on dates and such, you still acted so lovingly towards him. You would still come home and snuggle up to him, you would still run your fingers through his hair at night, you would still talk mindlessly about your day, as though nothing was remotely bothering you.

So, maybe you really were busy, perhaps he was just looking too much into the issue.

But still, getting stood up for the 4th time in a row would make anyone a bit upset.

He left the restaurant, paying for the drink he had ordered, and went on his way home.

Maybe it was a side effect of his quirk, but when he had these sorts of thoughts his wings would get all twitchy. He had done the research and found that when birds were in a high-stress situation they plucked at their feathers. The article also said that when a person that said a bird was attached to someone that abandons them, they get even more stressed and irritated. Which he supposed made sense. He would never admit it to very many people, (and if the press got a hold of it he would honestly shoot himself) but he had some bird tendencies.

Not big ones, just small ones.

He would bob his head in time with music sometimes, his pupils would dilate and contract when he was concentrating on something, he would mindlessly coo and cluck randomly as well.

Luckily, the commission taught him to control his bird-like tendencies, they told him that some of his bird traits were “off-putting”. But he really wasn’t sure what they were talking about, animal quirks weren’t uncommon, but he didn’t complain, he didn’t mind the help.

But since he’s been dating you, he found himself getting more and more of these tendencies.

A few times, he would find random shiny objects and give them to you, he acted all excited about it too, saying, “I saw it and thought that you could keep it! It’s super pretty so, I don’t know, I thought you’d think it was cool.” After he said that, you just took the objects and told him he was so adorable.

Another time, when you two were just out and about, he had seen you talk to someone with a similar bird quirk to his. He didn’t even know what came over him, but he squawked at the man, effectively freaking him and you out.

He apologized profusely after that.

There was one bird-like quality he didn’t mind all that much, and that was the preening of his feathers. It was honestly so relaxing, the dirt and dust from flying seeped into his feathers, so he always found himself soaking his wings in water and then rubbing them with a special kind of oil.

There were some days, however, were all he could do (or all he had time to do) was take a warm towel and gently rub off his feathers.

And lately, he had found himself going overboard with his preening, pulling more aggressively at his feathers, sometimes even hurting himself. He suspected that it was due to the stress of worrying about what was wrong with you (or him).

He hated all of it, loathed it even. Worse was how hard it was for him to broach the subject with you, whenever he got close he always wussed out. In his mind, even though it bothered him, he didn’t want to lose you. He was so scared that if he brought it up he would hear something he dreaded, and you two would fall apart.

He loved you so much, he wanted you to stay with him. Another bird trait he learned, some birds mated for life, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel that way about you. He just...he didn’t want to lose you.

There was one possibility that was the worst, and yet the most likely. You had been cheating on him.

He really didn’t want to admit it, but it all sort of added up.

You skipped out on dates so you could go out with this other person. When you would become affectionate with him could be a sign of guilt, he read about that online. And the way you wouldn’t see his texts or missed calls when he knew you were on a lunch break, maybe you were seeing someone else.

Was he a bad boyfriend? He thought that he had become better at this whole relationship stuff, maybe not perfect, but he was getting there. He knew he was hard to deal with, he wished he could be better for you, he really did. He knew he was busy a lot, tired from work, he knew he wasn't the most affectionate guy, but he wanted you, he wanted you so much it hurt. Keigo thought that you loved him because he really loved you.

The thought of having to let you go crushed his heart crushed his spirit too. He really did care for you, he knew that you were the one for him, so the thought of you not returning that feeling hurt him.

He flew through the night sky, looking down at the lights of the city. Normally, a sight like this would have made him smile, made him feel like he was on top of the world.

But his wings just felt uncomfortable, the wind blowing through them just increased the feeling.

He just felt… done. Like the whole world felt heavy to him. Maybe he really was overthinking everything, but he couldn’t help it, he was made to be observant.

He knew he had a strange habit of over-complicating things, but it was just his nature he supposed. A trained government agent always has to look into the fine details, at least, that's what he was taught. So, with your absence, he found himself becoming more and more paranoid.

He brought it up to his side-kicks and hero friends, and they all said the same thing; he was just being paranoid. They told him that, “sometimes in relationships, things get a little rough, it happens.” But Keigo couldn’t help but hate the whole ordeal.

He sighed, flying faster to his home.

One time, he had tried to follow you on your lunch break. He supposed it was pretty stalkerish, but he was getting desperate. All he needed was reassurance, just to know if you were actually busy or if that had been a bullshit excuse. He told himself it wasn’t a huge deal, he was just making sure you were doing ok.

...ok maybe it was a bit of a breach of privacy.

He had perched himself on top of a building near your workplace. Keigo had made sure that you wouldn’t be able to see him as he followed you, keeping out of sight as best he could.

His initial thought was you would go to a coffee shop, maybe some sort of expensive restaurant if you were meeting someone.

Yet, to his surprise, he saw you scarf down a sandwich as you entered an animal clinch.

Were you cheating on him with an animal clinch employee?

He wanted to confront you then and there, but from where he was, he didn’t have any reason to.

It looked innocent enough, you were just going to an animal clinch.

He immediately felt guilty. There was no reason for him not to trust you, you had done nothing wrong in this situation. Maybe you really were working overtime and he was just overthinking everything.

He shook his head, sighing, he unfolded his wings and flew off the building he was perched on.

That was a week ago, it was after the third time you stood him up. And now, although he didn’t have any proof of you cheating, he still felt like he had a reason to confront you. He just felt sick of worrying and overthinking everything, and in all honesty, you weren’t helping the situation. Every time he asked you about it, you always came up with some sort of excuse.

He landed on his balcony with a loud thump, not caring all that much about the noise.

As he entered his home, he lifted the hem of his shirt off his head, throwing it on the floor unceremoniously. Walking over to the bathroom, he filled a special bowl full of water and made his way back over to the bed.

It was probably a bad idea to preen himself when he was so aggravated like this, but he wanted to do it, his wings felt so uncomfortable.

His right-wing raised a bit as he sat down, pulling the feathered stump closer to him.

But before he could even graze the feathers with a damp cloth he had, he heard the front door open and close.

Before he had even realized it, he was already zooming down the staircase of his luscious penthouse, knowing full well you were already inside of his home.

“Hi honey,” you slipped your shoes off, not looking at him yet. “How was your day- Oh,” he crossed his arms over his chest, he was sure his expression was one of utmost anger.

“Where were you,” his tone was irritated, his wings twitched behind him.

“I was working. Baby what's wrong,” he nearly rolled his eyes at your concerned tone.

“Don’t baby me, you stood me up,” he huffed, “again.”

He didn’t miss the sorry expression that flashed on your face, “Kei, I’m sorry, I really am. I’ve just been so busy lately. I know I haven’t been fair to you, but I’m not doing anything tomorrow! Look I’ll even make dinner for you, ok? Really, Kei, I’m ”

“Y/N,” here it came, “if your gonna break up with me, just do it already

Well, that certainly shocked you (and him if he was being honest). Your whole expression fell into one of confusion, your eyes looked up at him with genuine hurt.

“What? Keigo what are you talking about? You’re not making any sense, why would I want to break up with you?”

“I don’t know Y/N?! Why have you been avoiding me for so long!?”

You sighed, “Is that what this is all about? Well,” you pulled out some sort of form, reaching it out to him, “here, I wanted to surprise you on our anniversary, but I don’t want you to think that I’m doing something dishonest.”

He snatched the piece of paper out of your hand, maybe a bit too harshly. He looked at it and was immediately confused.

It was information on a class about… how to preen birds?

He gave you a confused look, to which you gave him a light smile, “I see how frustrating it is for you to preen them, so I wanted to help out. I saw that I could learn how and thought it would be a cute thing for us to do together.”

He stood in shock for a few moments, letting the guilt wash over him.

“I-I’m so sorry.”

You chuckled a bit, “Don’t be, it was wrong of me to leave you high and dry on dates, I just had to work overtime in order to get these classes in.”

Now, he felt twice as guilty.

This whole time he had thought you were drifting away from him, and worse, he thought you were cheating on him. He felt sick. His friends were right, he really was overthinking the whole situation. And worst of all, you were working overtime to do something so nice for him, and here he was, yelling at you.

“I-I’m so sorry, Y/N. Jesus,” he shook his head, “I’m an idiot. You were off doing something so thoughtful for me, and I was being a prick, yelling at you. I’m sorry honey. Is there something I can do to make it up to you?”

But you just chuckled, “Keigo, really, it’s ok. I should have at least done something to convince you, or rescheduled our dates. It’s ok honey, don’t feel bad.”

You moved in to give him a hug, which just happened to be the moment you realized his shirt was missing.

“Uh,” he saw your body straighten up, and your face makes a flustered expression, “why is your shirt…”

“Oh, well,” he scratched his feathers nervously, “it’s kinda funny, I was just about to preen my wings. So I have to take off my shirt in order to get the water to the back. Kind of a weird coincidence, huh.”

“Well,” you looked at him, eyes softening, “can I help?”

Keigo was sure his heart had frozen, after a moment or two, he answered, “S-sure.”

-----

You pulled a stool for him to sit on as you sat down on the bed.

Keigo wasn’t sure why, but he felt so anxious. To tell the truth, he never really had someone preen his wings before. He would always do it himself, it was an annoying effort sometimes, but the commission was very big on him looking good for the public eye.

His wings weren’t super sensitive, but the light touches of your fingers running through them felt like pure heaven to him. The sensation was like having someone giving a message, but… different. It felt nicer, more loving, more slow and nice.

The whole sensation made him shutter.

“Is this ok,” he didn’t miss the anxiety in your tone.

“Yeah,” he said, breathlessly. “Perfect, keep...keep doing that babe.”

The little pulls of his feathers relaxed him more and more, making him seep into the back of the stool he was sitting on.

When you had started to add water to the mix, he didn’t notice his cooing.

“Kei?”

“Hmm,” his mind was so far gone in the relaxation of your hands that he barely registered your voice.

“Are you cooing,” you had to suppress your smirk as his body went rigid, as well as his wings.

“I,” his face was almost as deep red as his wings, “s-sorry.”

You giggled, “Don’t apologize,” you pressed softly into the apex of some of his feathers, “if it feels good, it’s fine if you coo. I won't judge you.”

Softly, he let out a few coos, but he didn’t want to freak you out.

But soon, he realized he couldn’t keep them in, you were just doing so well.

You moved softly to grab his feather oil, “Uh, so how does this even work? Do I take a few drops and run them through each individual feather or something?”

You’ve seen him preen his wings before, but until recently you had just started to pay attention to how he exactly did them. You had noticed that the oil he used on his feathers gave a shine to the red plumage, but you had noticed he was a bit cautious with the serum.

“O-oh,” you didn’t miss the light stutter and the soft up-take of his voice, “Um, if you want you can just put a few drops in your hand and rake them through. You don’t have to do each one if you don’t want to.”

You thought for a moment, “Alright, I think I’ll just do each feather. I wanna get this right after all.”

And, honest to god, Keigo gulped.

You’ve never seen him this relaxed and yet so tense, you would have thought he was drugged. You would be lying if you didn’t enjoy it though, the way Keigo melted into you, it was weirdly adorable.

“Yeah,” he let out, “yeah ok.”

After that, it was like Keigo could barely talk.

For a moment, you considered something. When you and Keigo had started to date, you had noticed how he was a bit touch-starved. He craved affection, whether he was aware of this or not, you weren’t sure.

But it made sense, his childhood past, and plus, this was his first real relationship. You wondered if Keigo had ever been shown so decent, honest love before.

Perhaps his bird instincts also played a part in how affectionate he could be. You read once, that when male birds became attached to their mates they tended to get affectionate as well as loving. Plus, some birds preened their mates as a show of love, you wondered if what Keigo was doing was just his way of showing how happy he was with you preening him.

After you were done, Keigo’s head was light and tired. The whole experience for him felt magical, he wasn’t sure why though. He preened himself a bunch of times, why was this the first time he felt this way?

But Keigo’s head couldn’t really process the question at the moment.

“You wanna go to sleep,” you asked, bringing your hands lightly over his shoulders, kissing his forehead.

He let out a small, “Mhm,” as he stood up. You had to help him to his bed because of how wobbly he was.

After you carefully helped him into bed, you turned to go to the bathroom to wash your hands, but Keigo dragged you down.

“No,” he whined softly as you tried to get out of his grip, “cuddles.”

(You couldn’t lie, this had to be the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen him do)

He nuzzled into you, his body flushed against yours.

That’s when you heard it, the little chips. You didn’t say anything, scared that if you did he would stop. You played with his hair as he chirped into your neck, his wings shivered a bit.

You decided to ask him, “Hey, Kei.”

He hummed lightly.

“I’ve never seen you like this, does it have something to do with your bird instincts?”

Keigo thought for a moment, “Maybe,” his voice was light you noticed, “it could be. Kinda just something I experience because that’s what birds do with their...mates.”

You chuckled, running your hands through his wings again, “Maybe it’s because you're also, like, really touch starved.”

“Oh yeah, maybe. I mean,” he looked at you, like a lovesick puppy, “you are my first time in a real relationship.”

You laughed lightly, going back to lightly stroking his hair and feathers.

“Hey Y/N,” Keigo’s voice was tired, and yet, it was soft.

“Yeah honey,” you asked in an equally gooey voice.

He nuzzled in closer to you, giving you a soft, yet deep kiss, “I love you.”

#bnha hawks #hawks x reader #mha keigo takami #hawks x y/n #keigo takami #mha keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha fanfiction #keigo x reader #hawks imagine #hawks headcanons #hawks reader insert #keigo x y/n

2K notes · View notes

the-broken-truth · 3 years

Note

Can I request i male reader who treats all of the lords and mother mranda like his own kids cause of his animal instincts? 🙍‍♂️🐾

(You can choose the sifter)

Broken (Chuckles): Hello, @imanewboi99 - back again to spoil me with delicious scenarios, are you? (Reads ask) A Shifter that treats The Lords & Mother Miranda like his children? Hm...I can imagine the Lords but the Lords see Mother Miranda as their mother...I'll make him Miranda's Lover - Hopefully that is good for you, my friend. As for Shifter Form... I'll make him a Caracal Cat; I like their ears and they have stubby little tails, plus cats are one of the animals I think will take in another animal's infant as their own. Now, let the words weave together!

Note: The Reader will be known as [Father].

🦇 [Alcina Dimitrescu] 🦇

When Alcina met [Father] during the Lord Meeting, she didn't like him for the simple fact he was a man but she was curious of the large feline ears he had in replacement for his human ears & they weren't just for show - he made that clear when Karl called Alcina 'Lady Super-Sized Bitch' during a Lord Meeting, causing the tall buff man to walk over to the 4th Lord and glare down at him.

His Response: "You will not refer to another Lord, your sister, and my daughter as a 'bitch' in my presence or the presence of your mother and siblings again, Karl Heisenberg or I show you the power I hold in a way you will not be fond of. Now, apologize to Alcina this minute."

When Karl didn't move fast enough, [Father] grabbed the German by his trench coat and held him high (Keep in mind that [Father] is around the same height as Alcina) with a glare on his face and snarl in his voice, "I SAID 'APOLOGIZE', YOU UNGRATEFUL BOY!'; Karl wheezed out an apology before the man placed in back on the pew, "And never...disrespect anyone of my children again, I wouldn't let any of them do it to you, Son." then he went to sit.

As time went on, [Father] would come to Castle Dimitrescu and repair any kind of structural damaging or ask Alcina if she needed anything to be delivered to the castle.

Alcina would say, "Father, you don't need to worry yourself with these petty issues."

But he would say, "As your father, I don't want my eldest daughter and granddaughters to be without. Please, let me be a good father and grandfather to you and my granddaughters, Alcina."

Alcina was touched and handed him a list of things she needed to be taken care of that no one else would do or couldn't do. Everything was done within a few hours.

When it comes to the daughters, [Father] loves them as a man would love his biological grandchildren.

He would come to the castle with gifts: A new book collection for Bela, Gadgets of Torment for Cassandra, or a new weapon for Daniela.

If the daughters were bored and had nothing to do, [Father] would turn into his Feline Form and let the daughters hunt him, but he was rather fast & which made the daughters have fun with the chase.

[Father] has a manor that is around the same size as Heisenberg's Factory and the daughters love to visit because the large man spoils them too much.

They would go every single weekend but one day, Alcina told them that they didn't need to go everything single weekend and to give [Father] some space. The daughters didn't like that and called their grandfather to complain and waited around the corner when Alcina received a call from [Father].

"Father, all I said was they don't need to be over there all of the time," Alcina explained.

"Alcina, don't say anything to me; you are lucky that I am 5 whiskey glasses in, otherwise I would come to get them myself. Call the carriage and bring me my granddaughters." He hung up after that.

Not wanting to disappoint her Father Figure, she called the carriage and delivered the daughters and she was given a case of fine wines to relax with while they were with him.

She may hate men - but [Father] was the only man-thing she would admit to caring about. Mother Miranda picked well.

🎎 [Donna Beneviento + Angie] 🎎

[Father] knew that Donna was timid & Angie was her way of communication - he didn't want to frighten her thus began their relationship with phone calls.

For the most time, he spoke to Angie and each conversation would with [Father] asking if Donna or Angie needed anything; yes, he considered Angie another person and not just a doll.

On the occasion that they did need something, he would go purchase what they needed and let it on the porch of Beneviento Manor, knocked on the door, and stepped away; he knew that Donna was scared of his height.

One day, he was delivering some Doll Parts Donna asked for, he did his normal routine and was about to leave when Angie called out and asked if he wanted to come in for tea. He accepted.

He shrunk himself to be a more acceptable height for Donna and the three of them had tea and conversation.

Donna became more adjusted to his presence and would call him herself - without Angie - and ask if they would have tea, make dolls together, or work in the garden together.

One day, he came with an eyepatch with the Crest of House Beneviento stitched into it as a way to cover the scar but not her whole face.

At the next meeting, she wore it.

Salvatore complimented her on it and she said 'Father made it for me.'

He smiled.

🐟 [Salvatore Moreau] 🐟

Salvatore was curious about [Father] but was too nervous to talk to him - thinking he was going to be mean or make fun of him his appearance. Imagine his surprise when [Father] wanted up to him and smiled before saying, 'Hello, Salvatore. It's nice to meet you, son.".

Salvatore looked at him with wide eyes - he thought of Salvatore as a son? He didn't make fun of him?

Salvatore and [Father] would talk whenever they saw each other at the Lord Meetings but one day, [Father] asked to spend a day with his son because he never got to learn about him.

Salvatore was nervous but agreed.

When [Father] arrived at Salvatore's Territory, he was displeased that his son was living in such poor conditions and he vowed to do something about it and his son's vomiting.

The two of them spent hours watching movies together and eating cheese & fish while Salvatore told [Father] everything about him.

One day, Salvatore was surprised to see his father building a new house on steady ground and told Salvatore that it was his new home because he was not gonna let his Lord and Son live in poor conditions like that. Salvatore was also informed that there was a new collection of movies for the two of them to enjoy.

They have movie nights every Wednesday and Sunday.

As for Salvatore's vomiting, [Father] was able to make an elixir that prevents vomiting but Sal has to drink it every month. It's bitter but he will do it regardless.

🛠 [Karl Heisenberg] 🛠

[Father] knew that Karl was still cross with him for embarrassing him before Mother Miranda and the Other Lords & no real father would want his son to be angry with him at every family get-together.

[Father] went to Karl's Factory with an apology but when he went inside, he saw his son running from a strange contraption with a large drill arm.

His Paternal Instincts kicked in and he charged at the creature, crushing its head in his hand before turning to his son to make sure he was alright.

Karl was angry to see him at first but he did thank him for saving his life before that thing turned him into a pin-cushion. He then asked [Father] what he was doing in his factory and the taller man said he didn't want any bad blood between the two of them and offered his services to his son.

Karl wasn't interested and first but he then realized that he could use [Father] to get inside information on Miranda so he agreed.

The two of them worked on projects, blueprints, or repairs for hours, enjoying each other conversation and presence.

[Father] asked the 4th Lord to be kinder to the other lords - he hated seeing his family argue and be bitter with each other.

Karl - while he never saw the others as his family - agreed to this for the sake of the only one he really respected and cared for.

Karl was still planning on making Miranda suffer for what she had done to him and the others...but...Did [Father] really deserve it?

This man - he had a heart of gold - but it was clear he suffered as well and this 'family' was the only thing that kept him together, kept him happy - Karl didn't want him to be unhappy.

What would destroying Miranda and this 'family' do to [Father]? Karl wondered but at the same time, he didn't want to know. This man was a father to him...what was he supposed to do?

🧪 [Mother Miranda + The Lords As A Whole] 🧪

Miranda would wake up to the smell of [Father]'s cooking and coffee every morning - he refused to let her start the daily research without a good meal and coffee, and she didn't object to this - the man made some delicious food.

One day - Miranda went to the meeting grounds and found the man cleaning, fixing pillars, and making individual thrones for the Lords, Mother Miranda, and himself. Reason: "My wife and children are not sitting on old ass furniture and possibly getting sick."

The Lords love their thrones - he even made one for Angie.

When an argument - mostly between Alcina and Karl - broke out, [Father] would roar for them to shut up and respect the Mother of All and each other.

"You are my children - not savages - and you will act like it or I shall show you how savages were treated where I came from!"

It would take Miranda's gentle hand to calm him when the children acted out of line.

When it came to the Cadou Experiments - [Father] would aid Miranda or his children without a second thought. Whatever they needed, he would get for them.

[Father] would try to have a family dinner with everyone at his manor once a week, just so the family could all be together.

As much as Miranda didn't want to admit it - she loved the dinners; it really felt as if she had a real family.

Maybe...when Eva was returned to her...they could be a family.

[End]

#Mother Miranda x Male Reader #Alcina Dimitrescu #Donna Beneviento #Salvatore Moreau #Karl Heisenberg #Resident Evil 8 #headcanon

322 notes · View notes

poppywrites41 · 3 years

Text

Captive Love Chapter 1

Prince!Yoongi x Maid!Reader

AN: this MIGHT turn into an ot7 fic. honestly depends on my mood, i dont rlly have a plan for this so it might not even be completed itself. Here is the first chapter for it. lmk what y’all think!!

If y’all like it, i will keep posting, but I will be busy until May with university assignments.

WARNING: Implied death, cursing, sexual references. There will be more smut and violence to come in future chapters. If anyone is triggered by smut, non-con, death or violence, DO NOT INTERACT ANY FURTHER IN THIS BOOK.

The man watched with cold eyes as the young female body fell from his hold to the floor with a thud. He kneeled down and places his hand on her neck to check for a pulse. When he found no signs of life, he sighed in annoyance, “Fuck...I didn’t even get to try her out yet.” What was her name again? He didn’t know. Well, he didn’t really care. If he is feeling frustrated, there is usually one in his vicinity doing her chores where he can just grab them and do as he pleases. They don’t fight and he likes that, but it has started to get boring. This girl was different. She was probably new and didn’t know what to do, so she had a tiny bit of fight to her. But, she apparently didn’t know how to clean his desk properly, so she got herself a little too hard of a squeeze to the neck.

The prince huffed and went down the hall to let the guards know to remove the body that was in his chambers. They immediately took action, rushing with haste to remove the inconvenience from their majesty’s room. The man walked into the banquet hall where his parents and 6 brothers were eating their dinner.

“Yoongi my daring!” his mother called him over to her, taking his hand, “you must try the elk! Jungkook killed it today and it’s the biggest one anyone has ever shot! It is absolutely delicious!” Yoongi looked over at his youngest brother who had two servant girls on either side of him, begging for his attention. It annoyed Yoongi that Jungkook could just bat an eyelash and would have 5 women at his feet ready to suck his cock. Why the fuck was he so popular? “Nice kill.” he said to the youngest as he sat down next to his second younger brother, Namjoon. Namjoon was one of the brothers he tolerated well. He was a smart man and handsome at that. If he had been born first, he would have been a good king. He also had good luck when it came to fucking.

“Mother,” Yoongi said as he was served a piece of elk with roasted vegetables, “I need a new bedchamber maid.” His mother sighed, “Did you dispose of another one already?! Didn’t she just start last week? Yoongi, this is the 4th one in the past month and a half!” “She couldn’t do her job properly. I did what I had to.” The second eldest prince huffed.

“Mother,” Jimin, the third youngest spoke up, “where are you finding these women? What’s their status?” “I think this last batch came from Hearthfield. A few of the girls were daughters of the noblemen whom we paid handsomely for.” she recalled. Jimin laughed, “That’s your problem! You’ve been getting girls who don’t do that stuff. You need to go to Seaport to find the best girls. That’s were I get my bedchamber maids from. They know how to work, and they know how to properly serve a man.” The queen smiled warmly at her third youngest, “Thank you Jimin. Yoongi, I will send out the guards to Seaport to find more women to work at the castle. You may come down to the courtyard and inspect them. Though you may not pick yet, for they need to be trained.” “Thank you mother,” Yoongi said as he dug into his meal.

“Y/N!” an older male voice called to the girl staring at the sea, “Go help your brother with the crab traps. Remember, females with eggs-“ “get thrown back, males as big as the palm can stay. Got it!” the young girl finished for him, jogging along the dirt path to their dock.

Y/N and her family are fishermen. Well, her stepfather and stepbrother are. Her mother passed away 3 years ago when she was 18 and she never really could recall her own father. Her stepfather wasn’t a bad person. He treated her like a human being, but there was always a wall that she felt he put up around himself. She and her stepbrother tolerated each other when it came to working. He wasn’t the worst person in the world, but he always made it known that he was superior to her. Sometimes she felt like she didn’t belong in her own home, but she enjoys working by the sea. She walked onto the dock where her stepbrother was already going through one of their crab traps. “Hey,” he said, not looking up at her, “you know what to do. Better go fast so we make it back before dark.” Y/N nodded and went to the next crab trap, opening it up and sorting their catch. The sun had begun to set when they finished. Y/N and her stepbrother loaded the wagon with buckets of crab. Her brother got on and started the horse towards the village where the best crabs will be picked to be taken to the royal family. “You go on back. I’ll take them.” her stepbrother said. She nodded and began walking back home. Y/N never thought much of the royal family other than being jealous that they get the best of what they caught. She sometimes wonders what they are like. As she walks back, she closes her eyes and feels the sea wind on her face. She can practically taste the salt in the wind. She’s happy here. She doesn’t need to worry about some royal family. Her life is good.

When Y/N was finally able to spot her home, she saw a group of men in armor with horses in front of her home, conversing with her step dad. She thinks nothing of it and continues her walk. She then notices the head guard hand over a sack of what looked like money to her stepfather. Y/N got excited thinking that maybe the royals were paying their subjects extra money for their good food and ran toward her stepfather. When she arrived, all of the men looked at her. “Is this her?” the guard asked her stepfather. “Yes sir,” he replied, “she does not have much to pack that she would really need there, so she is ready to go whenever.” Y/N looked at her stepfather in confusion, “Where am I going? What do I need to get?” Before he could answer, the guard spoke, “The king and queen sent us out to find young women to serve them in the castle. We seem to have had a drop in servants recently and are paying families to hand over their daughters.” “But you surly must have enough!” she said, sending a pleading look to her father, “we are happy here! I wouldn’t be much help! I only know how to fish!” “Y/N!” her stepfather’s voice increased, “You must go. We have barely had enough money to feed three mouths since your mother died. She would have agreed to this.” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her family was giving her up? After all she had done for them? Tears began to well up in her eyes. The guard was the next to speak, “I will give you three minutes. Grab what you can carry, come back out and get into the wagon. We leave for the castle.” Y/N barley nodded and slowly walked into her home to her room. She got a small crossbody satchel and put her small stuffed bear her mom made her in it, her favorite shell and her notebook. She found her mom’s necklace and put it on. It was a simple necklace; a silver pendant that had the words “my love for you is as great as the sea” etched into it. When she came out, her brother had just returned. She looked at him and he avoided her gaze which broke her heart. “Come girl,” the captain said, “We haven’t got all day. We must return this evening.” Y/N nodded and followed his horse to the wagon. When she hopped on, there were only 6 other women. They were very pretty so she felt left out. Granted, Y/N didn’t really have the luxury of having a mirror so she never really knew if she was pretty, not that she cared anyways. She looked back at her home as it slowly disappeared from view, already missing her life on the sea. After what seemed to be a few hours, the group arrived at the gate of a great stone castle. Y/N thought the castle came straight from a fairy tale book.

The wagon was brought into the courtyard where there was an older woman waiting. The girls were lined up in front of her. She walked down the line of young girls, inspecting them. She sighed and turned around to face them all. “Welcome, ladies, to the castle of Bangtan. My name is Lilith and I am your head maid. You all have been chosen to be servants of the royal family. These duties include cleaning the interior of castle, serving food to the royal family at meals or guests during balls, doing their laundry or fetching anything they ask for. There are a few rules you MUST follow; NEVER look a royal in the eye unless told to by one, NEVER speak informally to a royal, only speak when spoken to and NEVER refuse service to a royal. Do what you are told and life will be easy. Now, your training will begin at 7 AM, I will take you to your quarters. I will show you where to meet me in the morning. Come along and do not fall behind.” The girls looked at each other in confusion as they followed the head maid into the castle. Y/N felt someone staring at her but when she looked back, she saw nothing. She quickly followed the group into the doors so that she won’t be left behind.

“So my darling,” the queen said to her second oldest son, “what do you think?” Yoongi huffed as he watched the girl with h/c hair rush to catch up to the group. “She looks like work,” the queen sighed, “hopefully she will last longer than the one who was disposed of three days after arriving.” Yoongi on the other hand was intrigued by the young girl. He couldn’t get a good look at her face, but her posture was different from the other girls. They were making themselves small while she stood tall. She seemed strong, like she had some fight in her. Yoongi is intrigued by that. The queen could see the wheels turning in his head, “Has one already caught your attention my dear?” “There is one that is particularly interesting,” he said folding his arms, “but we will have to see.” “Do not mess with them immediately,” the queen warned, “they need to train and get used to their new environment. Give them a week.” With that she pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked back inside. Yoongi went back to his room and lay down on his bed. He couldn’t get that h/c out of his head. He knew he was not supposed to interact with the new servants until they are properly trained, but what’s training without an actual royal? A smirk played on the prince’s lips as he thought about the next day until he fell asleep.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts royal au #poppywrites41 #yandere yoongi #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts x reader smut #yoongi x reader smut

378 notes · View notes

koobunno · 3 years

Note

Hi, I really loved the second part of you JK two-shot!! By any chance, will you add a drabble about the fam? Like when their baby girl's hospitalized or any scene like that...You can if you want but no pressure hehe,,

-- okay i'm astonished bc this is my first ask hehehe

this drabble is flooded with fluff and a bit of smut if u squint

thank u anon for the idea, had to re-read the drabble to understand,,i'm dumb hehe

“What the fuck!” you threw sharp glares at Jungkook who is caressing your child before he goes to shower, not that you hate lewd words but you both agreed to not curse in front of your daughter or anywhere she can hear. Returning to work on your case study for the conference the day after tomorrow, Jungkook then again disturbed you with so much panic in his voice, “Y/N!! She’s burning hot, what the heck!” Not even a second passed, you immediately turned your head to where they were, Jungkook carrying her while draping a palm simultaneously over her forehead, cheeks, and neck. “Keep her warm, Kook.” You reminded him and of course he obliged as the loving and caring father he is.

This isn’t the first time you’ve encountered situations like this, you see children experiencing things like this almost every day. But damn it, the pounding in your chest has never been this vigorous. As you aim for the first aid kit, taking out the thermometer, and went back to the bed where Jungkook and your more than a year old child are. You saw her wrapped in a swaddle blanket already, knowing that Jungkook specialized the skill even before she was born because of the classes you both took. Your husband changed into his sweatpants and a sweater with his car keys on hand. You propped the thermometer and for fuck’s sake, you never wanted to run this fast. A forty degree fever for a one year old is never something to be complacent for. You grabbed your phone, your pouch, and a coat, not even budging to change your pyjamas.

“You sit at the back babe, I forgot where I put the keys of the car where her car seat is.” Jungkook told you and it is evident that he is trying to be calm but is failing. He handed you your sleeping hot child as you nodded.

Hugging her while fishing for the phone in your pocket as you sit at the passenger seat and Jungkook buckling his seatbelt, he starts the engine while you type the hotlines of the hospital’s emergency center, notifying them that you’ll arrive any minute. You also called a driver and a househelp to prepare some necessities for your daughter and some for you and Jungkook. It has been long forgotten because of the panic earlier and they’re already in their headquarters by the time it happened.

Jungkook halted at the facade of the emergency center where some nurses and the doctor on duty were standing, anticipating your arrival. You went down the car as Jungkook handed the car keys to the valet chauffeur. The attendings performed the necessary tests on your daughter while you fill up the required forms for admission and such things, Jungkook standing at the back of the technicians, cooing his crying daughter by making funny faces.

“Mr. Jeon?” you heard a nurse calling for Jungkook as you opened your eyes from sleeping on your husband’s shoulder, devoid of sleep you didn’t relent on resting your head on Jungkook. You felt him putting his index finger against his lips, not knowing you’re awake already. “The admission process is done already, sir. May I know who is your preferred physician for Y/D/N?” The nurse politely asked and even before Jungkook opened his mouth to speak, “Me, put my name on it.” You said exasperatedly. Jungkook looked at you gently, “Are you sure, baby?” he asked. “Yes, bun. I can handle it.”

Jungkook is slightly worried since you have important errands and loads of work to do, he knows you can endorse this to your colleagues but he didn’t say anything even if he knows you’ll beat the shit out of you for your daughter, though he knows he will too.

After some papers, you arrived at the VIP ward of the hospital. Your daughter is still sleeping and your husband is preparing the things that your house helpers brought earlier. They also proposed to take charge of accompanying your child but you and Jungkook refused, being the paranoid parents you two are.

A resident doctor along with an intern knocked on the door of the room and bowed to you to show their respects. You can’t suppress the giggle when you saw the intern’s mouth slightly agape when Jungkook went out of the bathroom wiping his beautiful hands with tissue, you can’t blame her, really. “It’s Influenza, Doc.” The resident told you while handing you the results of the tests. You nodded and you felt your husband’s arms snaking your waist and the other on his while greeting the people in front.”Okay, check if we have stocks of Tamiflu from the pharm and also isotonic IV bags.” Jungkook, not relating to the terms you’re blabbing, went to your daughter’s bed because she woke up and threw her tantrums because of the tubes on her small chubby feet.

“What does my muffin want, hmm?” he sweetly talked to her and the baby’s expression changed in no second, being the daddy’s girl she is. After the doctors went out of the room you saw the two of them playing and watching on your baby girl’s iPad.

A day passed and you needed to attend a conference, you wanted to ditch it but you cannot because no one’s available to do proxy for you. With heavy feet, you approached Jungkook, who took a week of work leave and brought all his work to the hospital room. “Bun, are you sure you can handle being alone with her?” you asked him for the nth time, making him giggle. “Babe, yes, I can, you’ll be back before dinner time, right?” he replied while signing a mass of papers on the bed table where he sits and your daughter between his arms, nibbling on her frozen fruits. “Okay, okay. Call me every hour, no, every 30 minutes, understand?” you demanded as you leaned to kiss your daughter and your lips met your husband’s cheeks. “No kisses for the bub, momma.” he said while slightly laughing at you. “Mhmmm, I forgot.” you chuckled. “How about for her hot dad?” you teased him. You turned to him and saw his pointer finger on his luscious lips, you gave him a peck and left after.

Jungkook kept on his task of calling you every 30 minutes and it is the 4th call since you left. “Babe, I swear you should focus on that damn conference, she’s sleeping already.” Jungkook said as you keep your phone in your purse to politely hide it as you talk to your husband. “Okay, fine, Mr. Jeon.” you teasingly replied, knowing that the title gives him a ring in every possible way. “What the heck, babe?” he gasped scandalously and it made you laugh a bit. “I’ll be definitely asking for the keys of your office, woman.:” he added, knowing that the management will give it to him without a second thought. “So insufferable, eh?” you hitched “See you later, Mr. Jeon!” and before he could even reply you ended the call and prepared to make a speech for the conference while of course, anticipating the office scene later.

After three days, you’re now processing the discharge letters for your daughter. She had some light problems because some of her lab tests results came so low or some came too high. You were frustrated, yes. Jungkook noticed that because it is undeniably noticeable. You saw him taking a nap with all the bags packed beside him. You went to his sleeping figure and hugged him, he was awakened by the gesture but hugged you back. “Thank you, Jungkook.” you told him, teary eyed. “Hey why are you crying?” he said, alarmed, “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant again, babe.” you glared at him for his lousy joke. He tightened the hug and said, “Just kidding, thank you, Y/N, always remember I appreciate you.” He went to the bed where your daughter is sleeping and grabbed her. “We appreciate you okay? We’re grateful for you.” you nodded as you wiped the tears that escaped. Grabbed the bags and got ready to go home.

#bts smut #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook parents #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkoooook bts #angst #bts fluff #bts imagines #ceo jungkook #doctor oc #bts drabble

111 notes · View notes

ericsangyeon · 3 years

Text

black lace and birthday cake - l.sy

“Look so good yeah, look so sweet. Baby you deserve a treat.”

pairing: sangyeon x female! reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: suggestive, fluff

theme: sangyeon’s birthday gang au

warnings: SMUT!!, profanity, alcohol

a/n: hey guys! i’m back with my long awaited sequel! this can be read as a stand alone but it does take place in the same universe as my other story addicted. again please be nice i’m still not used to writing smut. this was also edited but there could be mistakes! enjoy it! -t :D

playlist moodboard

“Do you have anything for Sangyeons birthday? It's in two days.” Kevin asks me while we are in the Starbucks line.

“No not yet. Honestly, I was going to cook him dinner or something. He's been too busy anyways.” I answer him as we move up.

“Boring!! You have been dating for how long? You should surprise him with something he would love.” Kevin says. All of a sudden his eyes widened. “Oh my gosh I have an idea!” He yells a little too loudly.

“Kevin Moon, I swear to god... But let's hear it.” I roll my eyes at him.

“You should dr- Wait, let me order first and then I'll tell you.” Kevin snickers and walks up to the counter, with me in tow.

After getting our drinks, Kevin and I started to walk around the mall. We’re killing time before our afternoon classes, and Kevin wanted to buy a pair of shoes for himself.

“You never told me what I should do for Sang’s birthday.” I nagged Kevin.

He smirked. “You should go to his apartment the day of, send him a picture of yourself in the lingerie your about to buy and then give him the best sex of his and your life” Kevin says proudly.

My eyes widened and before I can protest, Kevin continues his idea.

“I know you guys have had a crazy sex life. Don’t try to argue, it's obvious with all the turtlenecks you wear. He has been busy with the gang, and this will forsure make him come to you. Quite literally.” Kevin explains to me before taking my hand.

“I guess? I mean, I've been really horny lately and the combination of my vibrator and sexting does nothing for me.” I say to Kevin. He laughs and drags me into Victoria’s Secret.

“Ahh, this is exciting! You're gonna pick out some sexy lingerie! I swear, you’ll get Sangyeon coming in his pants before he even gets his hands on you.”

“Shut up,” I try to say but instead, I blush hard. We proceed to walk over to the lingerie section, as I eye the mannequins on display. Maybe this isn't such a bad idea after all.

November 4th. Sangyeons birthday.

The person looking back at me in my mirror was completely different. I had curled my hair into loose ringlets that rested on my face. I did my eyeshadow with a smokey dark colour, and left my lips bare, as it would all be removed anyways. On my body is a black lace push up bra that barely covers my breasts, with matching panties that highlight my ass. Attached to the underwear on both legs are garters that rest on my upper thighs. Pleased with how I look, I smiled at myself and prepare to leave.

I grab my overnight bag, as I probably will need it. I put on my silver heels and black long coat, and I leave my apartment. On the way to his penthouse, I stopped at the bakery to pick up the cake I had ordered for him earlier today.

Pulling into Sangyeon’s private garage, I park my car and spot Younghoon, the lead bodyguard of the penthouse. I get out of my car and walk over to him.

“Good afternoon Ms. Y/Ln. Sangyeon isnt home.” Younghoon greets me.

“I know, thank you. I want to surprise him for his birthday!” I reply back, smiling.

“Oh okay! Well I’ll leave you to it. I’ll even stay on the garage floor for you.” He says with a hint of teasing.

I roll my eyes and laugh. “I’ll call you if anything goes wrong. Thanks Hoon, you're the best!” I flash him my best smile as he opens the elevator door for me and laughs.

When I get up to Sangyeons penthouse, I am greeted with no staff at all.

“I guess he sent his staff home today thinking he would crash at the mob house.” I think to myself. Due to the high volume of work, Sangyeon has been staying at the TBZ house lately, which is why I never get to see him.

I reach his bedroom, and remove my long coat to hide in his closet. I prop my phone up on his night table, set up the camera to a timer, and proceed to take a risky picture of myself.

“I really hope this works.” I think to myself posing as the timer goes off. I grabbed my phone and my jaw dropped.

It was a picture of myself dressed in the black lingerie, kneeling on his bed. There in perfect HD, are my hard nipples poking through the bra, and my legs spread on my knees to reveal my pussy covered in black lace fabric connected to garders on my thighs.

It was great. I pulled up Sangyeons contact and sent him the picture.

“And now we wait.” I say out loud as I lean back into his bed.

Forty painful minutes later, my phone vibrates next me as I lay on his bed. I roll over to check that it is a message back from Sangyeon, which I open in anticipation.

I'm coming back early, you better be on the bed when I get home. The text read. My eyes widen, and a flash of desire and giddiness shoots through my body, almost leaving me breathless with arousal. I could feel my clit starting to ache with this wave of emotion.

Before I can even remove my panties to relieve the pressure on my clit, I hear the front door to the penthouse open. I jump and rearrange myself so that I'm sitting with my legs dangling from the huge bed. I hear him drop something, and his shuffling getting closer and closer to me. I'm about to call out Sangyeon’s name when the bedroom door swings open.

There Sangyeon stands, suit jacket off and the top buttons of his shirt undone. His eyes are on fire, travelling down my body like he's about to devour me. I stare back at him frozen, as I let myself be torn apart by Sangyeon’s gaze. Finally, his eyes meet mine, and his lips curve into a smirk.

“You're a bad girl.” He whispers.

“What did I do?” I play innocent.

“You know, how you sent me that picture while I was in a meeting just to get me riled up. Do you know the effect you have on me? I could have embarrassed myself in front of the powerful European gang.” Sangyeon growls. He starts to walk towards me slowly, every step he took making me more aroused.

Sangyeon grabs my face roughly and crashes his lips on mine. The brown haired man pushes me down onto the bed and hovers over me. He kisses me roughly, entering his tongue into my mouth when I part my lips. My hands reach up to his shirt, undoing the buttons fast to reveal his beautiful upper body. I press my hands on his abs, making him gasp into my mouth. I didn't even realize Sangyeon had taken my bra off, until his lips left mine made their way down to my bare breasts.

“Your tits are beautiful.” Sangyeon coos, bringing his mouth down. He catches my left nipple into his mouth and sucks on it softly while using his hand to fondle with my right breast. I let out a loud sigh, as he switches to the right. But when Sangyeon starts to leave open mouth kisses down my stomach, I use this chance to flip him over, making me on top.

“Y/N, baby, I'm always on top. What are you doing?” Sangyeon asks me.

“It's your birthday, let me spoil you for once.” I reply mischievously.

“Baby its okay, I dont m- fuck!” He growls as I leave an open mouth kiss above his belt.

I smirk at him as I undo his belt, and remove his pants and boxers. Sangyeons huge cock springs out, hard and angry. I pump it twice before sinking my mouth down fast.

Sangyeon hisses a string of curses and reaches to grab my hair out of my face.

“Fuck baby slow down. I still want to fuck you later.” He snarls as I moan onto his cock.

Sangyeon takes my hair and motions my head up and down on his cock. I gag when it reaches the back of my throat, tears starting to form in my eyes.

“That’s it, princess. You take my cock so well. You're doing so well, baby.” He murmurs under his breath, loud enough for me to hear.

Sangyeon grunts loud as I feel his hot cum hit my mouth. I swallow as much as I can, and pull off to meet his eyes.

“God, those eyes. They kill me.” Sangyeon whispers as he reaches over to my face and wipes off some of his cum that got on my lips. I smiled at him, but it was not returned.

“Now I'm in control, baby. Your fun is over.” Sangyeon says quickly before kissing me. He pulls off my lips slowly, lingering there.

“I want you to take your panties off and sit on my face. Let me taste that beautiful cunt of yours.” He says against my lips. I nod my head, feeling my giddiness come back.

Sangyeon repositions himself so that he's lying against his pillows. I stand up and slowly unbuckle the garter that was holding my panties up. I turn around and remove my lace underwear slowly, my ass in Sangyeon’s face.

Before I could even think, I felt his hands on my hips. Sangyeon lifts me up and places me on his face, mouth touching my pussy. Sangyeon presses an open mouth kiss onto my clit, and starts to lick and suck it fast.

“Ah Sangyeon yes!” I moan loud as my hands grip the headboard.

I begin to ride his face, grinding on his lips. Sangyeon slaps my ass hard, gripping my waist and I think I am seeing stars.

“Right there, yes! Fuck I’m gonna cum.” I tilt my head back and moan, speeding up the pace. He proceeds to stretch my pussy out with his fingers, and adds two inside without any warning.

This is too much for me to handle. I scream as I feel myself cum all over Sangyeon’s mouth and two fingers. He removes his fingers and kisses my clit softly. I roll off of him, and try to catch my breath.

“You taste so good always Y/N.” Sangyeon praises and runs his hand through my hair

All of a sudden. Sangyeon picks me up and walks over to the huge glass window that overlooks the city. I felt the cold glass hit my bare back, which caused me to hiss at the contact.

As I tried to turn myself around to admire the view, my back is full on slammed against the glass window. Sangyeon holds my waist and enters my pussy slowly, letting me adjust to his huge size.

“You're so goddamn tight.” I hear him whisper. I wrap my legs around his torso, making it easier for us to both adjust.

I let out a moan to let him know he bottomed out. Sangyeon removes his cock from my pussy and slams back into me fast. I scream as I feel his fingers dig into my hip bones.

His thrusts become so fast quickly and I'm helpless against him. I wrap my arms around his neck and capture his lips in a messy kiss, moaning against his mouth.

“You like that princess? Everyone seeing me fuck your tight pussy against the window? Sangyeon grunts into my ear,

I moan back, too overwhelmed to answer. He slaps my ass and presses me harder into the glass.

“Answer me, brat.” Sangyeon hisses.

“Yes Sangyeon, oh my god!” I answer him with the only words I can think of.

I can tell his orgasm is close as he pulls me to him as close as possible and thrusts into me deeply.

“FUCK!” Sangyeon yells as I feel his cum enter my pussy. He still is fucking me hard, as I feel the familar knot in my stomach.

“Sangyeon!” I scream and grip his neck as I cum.

We both fall onto the bedroom floor. Sangyeon pulls out of me and cradels my shaking body into a hug. Out of breath and overwhelmed, I feel myself start to cry.

“No baby why are you crying? You did so well. So beautiful for me, always.” Sangyeon cooes into my ear while I sob into his chest.

I look up at him. “I didn't mean to cry, that was just so amazing.” I reply softly, making him chuckle.

“Cmon, I’ll run a bath for us.” Sangyeon says as he picks me up bridal style.

We leave his bedroom and walk to the guest bathroom. A huge jacuzzi style bath rests against a glass window. Sangyeon places me gently in the tub and turns the water on. He grabs the soap and shampoo from the cupboard, placing it next to the tub. He gets in as well, and moves me so my back is against his chest. I feel him start to lather shampoo into my hair as I start to doze off.

“I hope you liked your birthday gift. I missed you a lot and wanted to do something out of the box for you.” I say tiredly to Sangyeon as he pours water over my hair.

“You're my gift everyday. I know sometimes my job gets in the way.” Sangyeon sighed. “I wish it was different, trust me. I hope you know I love you so much.” He places a kiss on the crown of my head.

“I love you too Sangyeon.” I reply to him grinning.

Sangyeon helps me stand up so he can wash my body. As I stand up, I start to grimace from the dull aches on my waist and thighs. Sangyeon notices that and frowns as he puts soap on his hands.

“I hope I didn't hurt you that much.” He says while running his hands softly over the bruise forming on my right hip.

“Don’t worry. I like the pain.” I smirk as Sangyeon rolls his eyes and laughs, making me laugh as well.

After another 10 minutes of Sangyeon and I washing each other, we both get out of the bath and change into matching white robes.

“Go wait on the balcony.” I tell Sangyeon and kiss his cheek.

When I hear him close the balcony door, I go to his kitchen to grab the small cake I got for him, as well as wine and wine glasses. I place the cake and glasses on a tray and pour the wine. I grab the candles and matches I stashed in a cupboard and light them on the cake.

When I reach the balcony, Sangyeon opens the door for me, and his face goes shocked.

“Y/N you didn't have to do that for me.” He says.

I place the tray down on the balcony table.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Sangyeon. Happy birthday to you.” I sang to him grinning.

He pulls me in for a back hug as he blows out his candles. I notice the sun is setting, so I remove myself from his grasp and turn around to watch.

Sangyeon appears next to me and takes my hand.

“What did you wish for?” I ask him looking straight ahead.

“Nothing. I already have everything I need here right now.” Sangyeon turns to me and brings my hand to his lips, kissing it softly. I roll my eyes and stare back at him.

“You're such a cliche.”

“You love it.”

I kiss him with so much passion. Sangyeon grabs my waist softly and kisses back the same, as I wrap my arms around his neck. We part slowly, pecking each other a few times

That night, Sangyeon and I spoon feed each other cake until we are both full. I end up falling asleep on the balcony chair. Sangyeon brings me to his bedroom, and tucks me in.

“I had a great day with you. Goodnight Y/N sweet dreams.” Sangyeon mumbles as he presses a kiss to my temple. He climbs into bed as well and wraps me in his arms.

I dream of cake, black lace, and my dream man, Lee Sangyeon.

i hope you enjoyed! sorry if it was rushed i wanted to get it out asap hehe

make sure to support the boyz on kingdom and vote on whosfan! :D

185 notes · View notes

pixie88 · 3 years

Text

The Text

The Text - Chapter 1 - Yours truly.

A/N | So after writing a couple of A&E one shots, I realized how much I missed this couple. So I’m sorry YES I am at it again with another A&E series which you are probably tired of! I was in two minds about going this way with this couple, but after today I decided I was keeping it like this just to match my mood! I have used Ben Affleck as a new characters face claim just because it was easier for what I need it for, all will become clear in the chapter.

Comments & reblogs welcome! Let me know what you loved and hated about this chapter!

I understand if you don’t want to be tagged so just pop me a message to be removed, but also let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Summary | Someone tries to stir up trouble for the couple.

Check out some of my other A&E series - HERE.

Wattpad | Here.

Word count | 1.7k

Warnings | 18 + Only! Angst, Fluff & a little NSFW.

Pairings | Adam x Ellie.

Enjoy!

"Mummy!" Charlie calls out as makes a run for his mum and sister across the playground "Hey bubs! Did you have a good day at school?"

"Yeah, we played football today in PE and, and I got this! Can I go Mummy? Please!" Ellie looks down at the piece of paper he hands her.

Year 1 Meadow farm trip on Friday 18th May.

The children will leave the school via a coach at 9:30AM and will arrive back at school at 2:30PM (Depending on traffic).

Lunch will be provided by the school as a part of the free school meals, all we ask is for your child to bring a change of clothes and wellington boots.

If you would like your child to attend this trip, please fill in the permission slip and return to the school by Friday 4th May. Along with a £7 donation for the trip.

Many thanks,

Miss Luton.

"Ooo, a farm trip? I don't see why not! Come on, lets get home!" she walks them through the school gate. "Ellie!" she heard someone call out to her, turning she saw it was Joe "Hey, I just wondered if Charlie wanted a lift to footie practice tonight?"

"Thanks, but I'm taking him tonight because we are dropping into my Mum's on the way home, it's her birthday!" she smiles, "Ahh OK! We'll see you there then!"

"Yeah, see ya later!" she walks off.

Later...

"Ellie, I was thinking instead of taking two cars, why don't you drop me, Delilah and Rex off at your mum's before training?" Adam calls out to her from the kitchen. "Yeah could do, if you don't mind?"

"Of course I don't." he calls back.

A little later, Ellie watches the boys play "Do you think they will beat Southend next week?" Joe asks. "If they play like this, yeah! I'm just sad I'll miss it!"

"Me too, I'm away with work, so Wendy is going to take him. Is his dad taking him?"

"Yeah, he's been busy with work, so he promised he'd go with him and their make it a lads weekend and go to the Adventure island on Saturday."

"He'll love that! I might mention that to Wendy, Toby loves all that!"

"I hate it! I'm petrified of heights!" she laughs.

Meanwhile at Mel's and Neil's...

Adam is playing Mario kart on the Switch with Delilah and Neil "I just got this last corner... YES!!!! Winner!!" Adam jumps up, "I'm not playing with you anymore! You always win!" Delilah sulks. "Why don't we play again? I bet I won't win this time?" sits back down and nudges his daughter, "Fine!" she sighs. "You never know I might win!" Neil winks at her making her laugh.

GO! Appears on the screen and they set of again Adam holds back his character, letting Delilah get a head start. He feels his phone vibrate, he pulls it out of his pocket to check if its Ellie, but an unknown number appears.

He clenched his jaw. He trusted his wife, she had never given him any reason not to, but he had been burnt before. Who's following her?! He's probably another parent, she's at football training!

"WINNER!!" Delilah snaps him out of his thoughts "See I told you, you could do it!" he smiles. "We lapped you three times Adam!" Neil laughs. "Why don't you have another with Grampy, I need to make a call!" he gets up from the sofa and starts dialing Ellie number after the fourth ring she answer "Hey handsome, everything OK?" she says in a cheery tone.

I can't tell her not over the phone, she'll start to panic! "Adam?" he hears her call out, "Yeh, everything is fine. I just wanted to see if training was over yet?"

"Nah, still another forty minutes yet!" he looks up at his coat "OK, well, I see you in a bit!"

"See you soon, I love you!" he smiles "Love you too!" he hangs up, grabs his coat and makes his way for the front door, bumping into Mel coming out of the kitchen "Whoa! Adam, where are you going?"

"I'm just going to take Rex out for a walk, can you watch Delilah for me?" Mel nods "Of course!" as he grabs Rex's lead "Rex!" the puppy come bouncing towards him.

17 minutes later...

"DADDY!!" Charlie calls over waving as he's playing, Ellie turns to see Adam walking across the playing field with Rex "Hey, whatcha doing here?" she smiles at him as he reaches her, his arms wrap her up and he looks round the park looking for anyone suspicious.

"I thought I'd take Rex for a walk and we walked a little too far." he couldn't see them, finally untangling himself from his wife, "You might as well get a lift back with us." she turns back towards the boys.

"You must be Adam? Nice to meet you!" Joe smiles, holding out his hand towards him. It was him..the guy in the photo! "Hi! Nice to meet you...erm?" Adam shook his hand "Joe, I'm Toby's dad!" Adam smiles. "Do you think they're ready for Sunday?" He nods towards the boys playing.

"Definitely!" Joe says proudly, "They will kick some butt!" Adam laughs at his competitive wife still looking for someone watching them. He thinks he's being subtle, but she's already noticed. After eight years together, she knows when something was bothering him, but she couldn't ask him at least not in front of Joe.

"Did you bring Rex's water bowl?" she looks down at her panting puppy, "Oh, I think I left it at your Mum's!" Adam rubs his temple. "I have one in the car with a bottle of water..let's go! Be back in a bit, Joe!"

"Alright mate!" he calls after them both. She loops her arm through his "Right, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she questions him, "No-nothings wrong!" she sighs, "Adam, don't lie to me!" He knew she had caught him out- Of course she knows something's up! He pulls out his phone and opens the text, showing her.

"Wh...what?! Who?" she looks down at the message. "I don't kno.." she cuts him dead "Is that why you went on a long walk?" He huffs "I was worried about you..Ellie, that photo.." she cups his face "Is just a photo! Adam, it's board daylight and I'm in a playing field with..what 11 other people!" She thought it was sweet he was worried about her even though the person that sent the text tried to make it seem as she was doing something untoward.

"Just ignore it and whoever it is that sent it will get bored!" she kisses his lips "Also, you know you are the only DILF for me, right?" he chuckles "Good, because you are the only MILF for me too!" he claims her lips again smirking against them.

After football training...

"Hapy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to Mum, Happy birthday to you!" Ellie sings along with the rest of the family as Nana Mel blows out her candles. "Wheyyyy!" they cheered. "Nana, can we have cake?" Delilah puts on her best pout. "Of course, sweetheart!" Mel cuts up the cake.

Ellie turns towards Adam "Did you delete that text?" she whispers, "Beautiful, I'm not sure..I was thinking maybe we should take it to the police?" he's worried, it's all over his face. "Maybe we should..just in case! They could even trace the number?" He didn't know how she was so calm about it.

"Do you two want cake?" Mel calls over, drawing their attention "Cake me up!!" Her mum smiles passing them both a slice.

That evening Adam stopped at the police station on the way home, they were keeping his phone and they said they will look into it, but with no real threat made there wasn't much they could do.

That weekend...

BEEP! BEEP! BEEEP...

Her alarm woke the two of them up "Argh! Just five more minutes!" Adam groans as Ellie reaches for her phone. Swiping it off, she places back on the bedside table.

Adams arms wrap her up from behind, he nuzzles into the crook of her neck and kisses against her pulse line. She reaches behind her and clenches his hair, his hand travels down her body and the pads of his fingers brush over her pearl. She giggles "Adam! We can't the kids will be up soon and you need to get up for your trip!"

He slips between her slits "I'm already up, don't worry about that, beautiful!" she could feel it pressing into her curves. "I know, but we can't!" she says, but doesn't stop him. He circles her clit "Hmmm...!" she moans.

As if on cue they hear a thunder of small feet run across the landing towards their bedroom "Adam! The kids are coming!" He stops what he's doing and collapses onto his side of the bed frustrated. She turns over just as Charlie and Delilah burst into their room "MORNING!" They both squeal before jumping onto the bed.

"Morning Bubs! Charlie, are you excited for your weekend with Daddy?" Ellie asks as he cuddles his mum. "Yeh! It's gonna be so cool!" He says excitingly "It will be, buddy!" Adam smiles at him, "What are my princesses up to this weekend?"

"We have a morning shopping followed by an afternoon of pampering with Nanny Elaine and Nana Mel and a Disney movie evening!" Delilah fists bumps her mum. "I better get up and get these two breakfast before we leave." Adam begins to get up "You sure can come get up from the bed just yet?" Ellie teases him.

"Yep, all safe!" He winks at her "Come on you two let's get breakfast and let mummy get showered." He heads downstairs and the kids follow like little ducklings. Charlie and Delilah run past him and head for the kitchen.

Adam spots a letter newly posted, he picks it up thinking its a little early for the postman, but realizes it's been hand delivered as it's addressed to him.

Opening he starts to panic as he reads it:

Adam,

Will you be just as quick to her side next time?! ;)

Yours truly.

FUCK!!!

Chapter 2

@aussieez @secretaryunpaid @lem-20 @khoicesbyk @irisofpurple @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer @palmaviolet @rookiemartin @wombatsxkookaburras @beautifuluknownvoid

#adam x ellie #pixie88 #yours truly #fourth series #angst #fluff

37 notes · View notes

therenlover · 3 years

Text

Heartsick (A James Patrick March/Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again

Tags: Fluff, Sickfic, Cuddling, Marriage Proposal

Rating: 16+

Warnings: Language, Potentially Triggering Mentions of the Reader Being Ill for a Long Time/Almost Dying of an Unnamed Illness, Planning Your Own Death

Word Count: 3700~

This was crossposted to my AO3 under the same title!

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

James Patrick March considered himself a fairly patient man. He had to be, in his line of work. Some things didn’t deserve his patience, like lazy workers or angry hotel guests, but when it came to things that did matter, he was willing to go to extremes. Murder, for example, deserved his patience. Once upon a time, the Countess did too. Yes, patience was a rare virtue Mr. March had possessed all his life.

When it came to you, though, he found his patience running short.

You had been a revelation all your own when you first walked through the doors of the Hotel Cortez with not even a suitcase to your name, radiating purity with every shallow breath. James had been excited to find you in some dark corner of the hotel and rip the life from your body. That is until you found his little nook at the Blue Parrot Lounge and seduced him with your charming personality and sweet smile. From that moment on the Countess didn’t matter anymore. The whole world was just him, you, and all of the deliciously naughty ways he wanted to debauch you.

James had insisted on moving you into your own suite on the seventh floor that very night, just a few short hallways away from his own, and given every luxury he could offer. He was nothing if not a gentleman. It just wouldn’t be right to move the one he intended to court directly into his bedroom, especially while he was still married to his previous wide. Despite the distance, things between the two of you went swimmingly. Even the murder, which James initially worried could drive you apart, was now a delightful shared activity when you chose to grace him with your presence during a kill.

That’s where the problems started.

Mr. March was a man stuck in his own time. That’s why, after 5 splendid years with you at his side, you still weren’t moved into room 78. This also meant your suite was a place he wouldn’t enter unless he was invited. Sure, you had a healthy sex life, but the Countess still had the March family engagement ring tucked away somewhere. He wouldn’t move you into his quarters or impose himself on yours until the two of you were at the very least engaged. The plans for his and the Countess’ divorce were moving, albeit slowly, when you stopped opening the door for James.

The first day he thought perhaps you were simply elsewhere, but after a week of nothing, he began to get angry. It was one thing to deny him your company, but to ignore him while he made a fool of himself banging on your door? That was a punishable offense in the March family playbook. So, he decided if you wanted to play hard to get, he would too. In his mind, James could practically envision you rushing back into his arms once you got over whatever was souring your mood. It wouldn’t be long until the whole nasty affair was behind the both of you once and for all, right?

Wrong.

A month since he last dined with you, James sat at his table in the Blue Parrot lounge alone nursing the remains of his 4th glass of scotch.

Liz was slow to walk out from her place behind the bar. “You want another?” she asked, holding out a crystal decanter, “or should I fish out the absinthe fountain a little early this year,”

“No, no I do believe I’ve had quite enough. Besides, it’s not as if I can actually get drunk anymore,” he huffed. Whether it was the drinks or his growing rage, Mr. March found his collar feeling a bit tighter. He reached up to pull at his cravat but paused when thinking about the ghastly wound it hid. In the end, he let his hand return to its place on his glass.

“Suit yourself,” Liz quickly returned the decanter to its place and began polishing glasses.

Somewhere in the distance, Iris picked up a phone and began to take an order for room service. James had an epiphany.

“Liz!” he shouted, getting her attention, “has Y/N been ordering much room service lately?”

Liz shrugged. “Only once a day for the past month. Why do you ask?”

“I find myself in a bit of a predicament. You see, Y/N began ignoring me about a month ago. I’ve been giving her a taste of her own medicine for quite some time now, and yet she has made no attempts to seek me out. Do you think, perhaps, there could be something wrong?”

The energy in the room began to still.

“Wait, Y/N hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

The dirty glasses were abandoned as Liz let out a humorless laugh.

“Damn you, woman!” James rose with a shout, slamming his glass down on the table, “what is she hiding!?”

“She’s sick,”

James’ heart would have stopped if it were still beating. He sat down again, bewildered. “What?”

“She’s sick. Fever, puking, tremors; the whole shebang,” As she spoke, Liz came back to the table and sat down on the plush booth across from him.

“But it’s been a month! Influenza shouldn’t last that long…”

“Well, it’s definitely not the flu, I can tell you that. Last time I brought down her dinner she nearly choked on her toast. She was so weak that I had to sit there feeding her soup because she couldn’t lift up the spoon long enough to feed herself,”

It was as if James’ whole world had come collapsing down on him all at once. Mortified, he let his head drop into his hands. “Why didn’t she inform me? Am I that pathetic a lover that she would rather suffer in silence than tell me she was ill?”

“Well, to her credit, you don’t exactly look like the most comforting type. When did she move in again?”

“Almost five years ago, it’ll be the anniversary of her first entering the Cortez on the 20th,”

“And how many times in the past five years have you, I don’t know, cuddled with Y/N,”

“You insolent-”

Liz lifted her arms, offering up a white flag. “I’m just asking a question,”

James opened his mouth to offer up a rebuttal but found he had no way to defend himself.

It was true that his relationship with Y/N tended to fluctuate between chaste and lecherous at the drop of a hat. Once they had made love, it was the only habit for him to leave her in bed and return to whatever was keeping him busy at the moment. Post-coital intimacy was simply something he had never experienced or needed. Unfortunately, seeing that the only time he spent with Y/N outside of their trysts were formal meetings or dinners, there had been no time for gentility or softness between just the two of them. If ghosts could blanch, he would have.

Noticing his sudden shift in mood, Liz rose, backing off. “Now, usually I like to stay out of your business, but because your little relationship makes Y/N happy I’ll give you some advice. Go down to the kitchen, have Ms. Evers heat some broth, and give Y/N her dinner personally, maybe even give her some extra attention as a little treat. That should fix the bulk of your issues. Got it?”

He was never one to take orders, but surprisingly James nodded. He stood quickly, smoothing his suit. “Thank you for your advice, Ms. Taylor, but I must depart. My paramour needs me,”

She nodded. “Any time,” James began to hurry down the stairs, but suddenly Liz shouted. “Wait a second,”

James paused. “Yes?”

“Only the living get sick, Mr. March. Maybe, after five years, it’s time for Y/N to extend her stay at the Cortez... permanently. Just something to think about,”

He gave her a sharp nod before disappearing down the stairs to the kitchen. 15 minutes later he was waiting outside your door with a rolling cart in hard. He had already been stalling there for 5 minutes when he finally, with a deep, steadying breath, unlocked the door.

The room was dark and silent, almost like a tomb.

Your voice rang out like a bell as James pushed the cart forward. “Iris?” you called weakly, “is that you?”

“No, darling,” he responded, closing the door behind him. Slowly, he bent down at turned on a small lamp. “You won’t need Iris to bring you your dinner any longer,”

“James,” You whispered, half reverent and half shocked.

He was far too taken aback by the severity of your condition to form an immediate response.

You were curled up in bed, folded in on yourself as you wheezed for breath. As Liz had mentioned your body was weak and wracked with near-constant tremors while you tried your best to prop yourself up on the headboard. James had to abandon the cart with your dinner on it in favor of rushing over and helping you sit up. As he took in your gaunt face, his heart broke.

Your soft voice snapped him from his thoughts.

“Am I dead?”

James shook his head. “No my love, not yet,”

Tears began to spill from your eyes. “I thought you’d left me, James. I thought I was going to have to rot in this awful, dark room for eternity, that maybe ‘cause I died while I was sick my ghost was too damn weak to get up,” As you spoke, you tried to grip the back of his suit, but found you were far too weak to actually hold the fabric. Your inability to even do the simplest of tasks only made you cry harder.

Mr. March was quick to pull out his handkerchief and wipe your eyes. “Oh, my dearest, that couldn’t be farther from the truth, but none of that matters now. I cannot apologize enough for my abhorrent behavior as of late,”

“Will you stay?” your words were laced with desperation, “just for a little bit?”

“Of course, my dearest. I think you’ll find it very difficult to get rid of me from now on. Besides, I couldn’t leave my beloved paramour without doing what it is that I set out to do,”

“Which is?”

James stood and quickly returned with the room service cart. As he removed the silver tray-topper, you found he had brought you a bowl of soup, a small plate of crackers, and a tall glass of ice water.

“I intend to make sure you are well-fed and taken care of,”

“James, you don’t-” you tried to argue, but he cut you off.

“Nonsense! There is, unfortunately, no way to sugar coat this, but I will try my best,” he whispered as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you, “I have neglected you, darling, not just for the past month when I found my pride and ego keeping me away from you, but also for the past five years. I ignored your needs out of a false sense of propriety by bending to rules that are long dead and considered inconsequential. For that, I fear I may never forgive myself. Things will be different from now on, though. I hope to win back your heart properly now that I have realized the severity of my mistakes. Would you…” he paused, gulping, “would you be willing to humor me?”

You offered him a soft smile. “Oh, my beloved Mr. March, there’s no need. My heart has always been yours,”

Your words soothed him, and he offered you one of his debonair grins, the kind where his little mustache scrunched before his lips parted that never failed to sweep you off your feet.

“Now where were we!” he exclaimed.

“Dinner,” you responded.

“Ah, yes! Soup!” He was quick to get a spoonful of the warm broth and bring it to your lips. “You needn’t worry, my sweetling, I watched Ms. Evers prepare this herself. Nothing but the best for you,”

It was easy to accept the spoon into your mouth. Something inside of you knew that James would be taking care of you from now on.

The rest of dinner passed in relative silence, but you didn’t mind, far too tired to take part in any meaningful conversation. Instead, you simply enjoyed the attention. James had never been shy about his affection, but that affection always tended to come in the form of gifts or sex instead of close, intimate touch. It hadn’t bothered you enough to tell him. You always just assumed he didn’t enjoy that kind of love. Now that you’d had a taste, though, of his gentle yet constant affection, you knew you could never get enough.

Too soon the bowl was empty.

James stood, returning to the door with the cart as you relaxed and rolled onto your side. “When will you be back?”

He chuckled, opening the door. “Did you think you could be rid of me so soon, darling?” The cart was quickly pushed out into the hallway as James turned back towards you.

Your face flushed. “I just assumed…”

“Assumptions, assumptions,” he tutted, “It hurts that you have such little faith in me, but I admit I haven’t given you much reason to. As I said, things will be different now,” James perched himself on the edge of the bed with a smile as he untied his shoes and slipped them off.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking off my shoes, darling, so I can join you in bed,”

Your heart skipped a beat. You had been imagining the first time James would actually stay in your bed to cuddle since the beginning of your relationship, but it had been years since you had given any thought to that silly fantasy. Could it really be happening?

Apparently, your surprise was evident on your face because Mr. March paused once both his shoes were settled neatly on the floor. “Is something wrong, my dearest?”

“Nothing, darling, nothing at all,” you were quick to explain, “we’ve just never done this before,”

James smirked like a predator who had just found his prey. “Such an innocent gesture from such a naughty little minx. I don’t recall you being so… flustered the night we met when I took you up to my suite and-”

“James!”

“Alright! Alright, my love, no more vulgarity from me until you’re fully healed and back on your feet. Well, hypothetically on your feet,” he emphasized his words with a dirty wink. Then he crawled into bed beside you as if he belonged there, scootching over until he was resting pressed against your side. You slotted into place, with your face resting in his neck and your leg thrown haphazardly across his hips as if you were made to fit his body. Holding James was like coming home.

You let out a soft, pleased sound at just how good it felt to be held.

James took this as positive feedback. As he settled in, he began running his fingers through your bedhead, combing through the loosest of the knots. Sensing something strange, he paused to put his hand on your forehead. It was uncomfortably hot. “You’re still feverish. Do you need anything? A cold compress? A wet washcloth? Some water?”

It was funny to hear him fussing over you, but it also warmed the deepest parts of your heart.

You made a negative huff against his neck. “No! You’d better not move. Your skin feels too good. It’s nice… cold. The only thing I could possibly want right now is for you to dim the lights and take your damn shirt off so you can cool more of me off,”

“I would, darling, believe me, but there’s just the small issue of the wound on my neck,”

“James,” you glared up at him, “I have literally ripped a dying man’s dick off in front of you. We have dinner with Jeffery Dahmer on your birthday every year, where I have to eat my salad as he zombifies whatever poor sap wandered into Sally’s clutches across the table. Hell, just a few months ago we fucked in that bathtub filled with some businessman’s blood. Your neck is just another part of you, James, it doesn’t bother me. Shirt. Off.”

“Have I ever told you that I adore when you take charge?”

You grinned as he undid his cravat and the top few buttons of his dress shirt. “Once or twice,” The thrill only lasted a moment, though, because before he finished unbuttoning his shirt he pulled away from your arms and got off the bed. A high-pitched whine escaped from your lips. “I thought you said you were staying?”

“I may be a ghost, dear heart, but my clothes can’t just disappear,” Always one for the dramatics, he shed his shirt and suit jacket to the floor with gusto. The sight of his bare torso made your heart beat faster. You had to remind yourself that you were sick and it would probably kill you to go for even a gentle round with Mr. March. Ah, but what a way to die…

James dimmed the lamp before returning, undoing his pants, and stripping down to his boxers. “Is this better for you darling?”

You nodded and reached your trembling arms out to your lover. “Much. Now come back to bed. You have five years’ worth of cuddling to make up for Mr. March, and I don’t intend on letting you wheedle your way out of even a second of it,”

He gave you a gentle smile as he found his way beneath the covers again. “I wouldn’t dream of it,”

Your face quickly found its way back into the crook of James’ neck. It was inhumanly cool, easing the constant burn of your fever and soothing your sore skin. The slit across his throat truly didn’t bother you. As you said, it was just another part of him for you to love, nothing more than a cosmetic imperfection.

Nuzzling closer, you took a deep inhale of his intoxicating scent. Perhaps it was the cologne he wore at the time of his death or even just what he naturally smelled like, but his pulse point radiated notes of sage and bergamot. God, how you loved him.

The pair of you were quiet for a moment with only the sound of your ragged breathing breaking through the air, but something urged you to speak your mind.

“You know, James, when you walked into my room tonight I assumed you were here to kill me,”

He chuckled. “I can’t say I didn’t think about it, my pearl,”

“Of course you did…” you went silent for a moment, “I wouldn’t have minded. This sickness is hell. I’m wasting away by the day and the pain never stops. I don’t mind dying, not when it means I get to spend the rest of time here in the hotel with you, but I don’t want to go out like somebody normal. My death needs to be special… I want to be the crowning glory of your murders, the most fantastic piece of art you’ve ever created,”

Pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your hair, James sighed. “Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but the moment I thought of you, wasting away in the darkness and succumbing to some common germ, I knew I couldn’t kill you. Not yet. I refuse to have my bride accompany me through eternity bearing a constant reminder of my failure,”

Your breath hitched. “Bride?”

Slowly, his hand made its way to your throat. There was no threat in it, he wasn’t using even an ounce of pressure. It was more of a gentle reminder of his presence; a physical conduit of his passion.

“Yes, bride. I don’t mind if you can only become Mrs. March posthumously, though I would prefer to wed you alive and enjoy your last moments of warmth in the throes of carnal delight on our wedding bed, it all depends on where your illness takes you next. Until then I will be glued to your side. No more harm will come to you. I shall nurse you back to health with my own hand so that you glow with life long after your death. Yes, Y/N, your death will come, but not until I have done my best to atone for my mistakes in your life,”

“Was that a proposal?” You gazed up at James with wide, misty eyes.

He huffed out a laugh. “I suppose it was, and a poor one at that! To think I stalled for years in the hopes of finding the perfect moment to present you with my mother’s ring only to pop the question in bed with no ring in sight. I do hope you’ll say yes. I’d be rather crushed if you rejected me after all this time,”

You nodded, small tears escaping as you pressed your face into his soft skin. “Of course I’ll marry you, you idiot. I would’ve married you if you were the poorest man in the world and proposed with a ring-pop,”

“Then it’s settled. You shall be my wife as soon as you are well enough for me to fuck you again! I quite hate that Will Drake, but I believe he’s our best, quickest option if we wish to get you a dress commissioned. I have a few ideas drawn up already waiting in my office… perhaps I should call Ms. Evers and have her take them to him,”

“Shhhh,” you smiled into his neck, pressing a kiss to his collarbone, “we can figure out the details later. For right now, though, your fiancée is sick and she needs some TLC. What are you gonna do about it, Mr. March,”

He growled. “Well, I suppose ravishing you is off the table. Hmmm... what to do to my darling girl to make her feel better?” With a gentle nudge, he tilted your head up and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.

“That’s a start,”

-------

a/n: I hope you liked it! I’m really leaning towards writing a second part of this where the reader actually dies, so let me know if you’re interested. Also, my requests are open if you want to see any of Evan’s other characters!

Please don’t post my work to other sites, thank you <3

#ahs #ahs hotel #james march x reader #james patrick march #james march #james patrick march x reader #I wrote this instead of something incredibly filthy and terrible I have planned for later...#evan peters #evan peters x reader #american horror story #american horror story hotel #I love this man

264 notes · View notes

turnstileskyline · 3 years

Text

It’s August 4th, 2021, the 129th anniversary of the day Abby and Andrew Borden were found dead of supposed hatchet wounds in their Fall River home. The most famous, and most investigated, suspect was Andrew’s daughter, Lizzie. In this post, I will attempt to go through the timeline of the day as unbiased as possible, and then I will discuss the two most popular theories.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Discussions of murder, abuse, and illness.

The day of August 4th, 1892, started normally in the Borden household, with two exceptions. Lizzie’s elder sister, Emma, was on vacation in Fairhaven, and Andrew’s brother-in-law, John V. Morse, was visiting to discuss business matters.

At 8:45 a.m, Morse leaves the house to visit his niece, and Andrew sits in the sitting room. Abby tells Bridget, the family maid, to wash the windows inside and out. Lizzie comes downstairs for breakfast.

Between 8:45 a.m and 9:00 a.m, Bridget reports feeling ill, and leaves the house briefly to vomit.

At 9:00 a.m, Andrew leaves the house. Bridget returns inside, and witnesses Abby dusting. She does not see Lizzie.

Between 9:10 a.m and 9:30 a.m, Abby goes upstairs to clean the guest room where Morse was staying.

At 9:30 a.m, Lizzie stands at the backdoor as Bridget exits to the barn.

Estimated between 9:30 a.m and 10:00 a.m, Abby is killed by blows to the head.

Between 9:35 a.m and 10:20 a.m, Bridget washes the outside windows, pausing to speak to a person referred to as “Kelly girl” at the southern-most fence.

Between 10:00 a.m and 10:20 a.m, neighbor Churchill sees Bridget washing the outside windows.

At 10:20 a.m, Bridget re-enters the house and began to wash the indoor windows.

At 10:40 a.m, Andrew returns home and is let inside by Bridget after he fumbles with the key. Bridget hears Lizzie laugh from the direction of the staircase.

At 10:45 a.m, Andrew lays down on the sitting room sofa to take a nap. A neighbor witnesses a stranger stealing pears from the backyard. Lizzie sets up an ironing board. Lizzie tells Bridget that there is a sale at a clothing shop, and informs her that a note was left saying that Abby had gone out.

At 10:50 a.m, a neighbor notes that an open buggy was parked in front of the Borden home. Bridget begins to feel ill again and retreats to the attic to lay down.

At 10:55 a.m, Lizzie goes out to the barn.

At 11:00 a.m, Lizzie reportedly hears a noise like “scraping.”

Between 10:55 a.m and 11:05 a.m, Andrew is killed from blows to the head.

At 11:10 a.m, Lizzie re-enters the house and calls for Bridget, yelling that “someone has killed father.” As Bridget comes down, Lizzie begs her to fetch a nearby doctor, Dr. Bowen. However, Bowen was not at home. Bridget fetches Lizzie’s close friend, Alice.

At 11:12 a.m, Churchill sees Bridget rush to get Alice and notices a distressed Lizzie. She questions what’s wrong, and leaves to get a doctor.

At 11:15 a.m, a neighbor notices the disturbance and phones the local police.

At 11:20 a.m, Bowen returns and enters the Borden household. Officer Allen arrives and sees a distressed Lizzie sitting at the kitchen table.

At 11:21 a.m, Allen and Bowen begin examining the body of Andrew. Alice and Churchill arrive with Bridget. Morse departs his niece’s house, not yet knowing of the situation at the Borden home.

At 11:23 a.m, Bowen returns to his home to send a telegram to Emma, informing her of the murders.

Between 11:25 a.m and 11:30 a.m, Lizzie asks if Abby has returned. Bridget and Churchill go upstairs to check and discover her body. Bridget fetches Bowen and his wife.

Between 11:35 a.m and 11:40 a.m, Officers Doherty and Wixon, along with reporter Manning, arrive at the Borden household. They are let in by Bowen. Andrew’s watch is removed by Wixon.

Between 11:35 a.m and 11:40 a.m, Morse returns to the Borden household, standing in the backyard.

Around 11:37, Officers Mullaly and Medley arrive.

At 11:40, Bowen returns and is informed that Abby’s body has been discovered upstairs.

At 11:45, Dr. Dolan arrives to examine the bodies. Morse speaks to an officer outside and claims he heard of the murders from Bridget. He then goes inside to examine Andrew’s body, before going upstairs to see Abby’s.

Between 11:50 a.m and 12:00 p.m, Bridget, Medley, Doherty, and another officer go to the cellar to examine the hatchets.

At 12:20 p.m, Officer Harrington arrives.

At 12:25 p.m, Harrington interviews Lizzie.

At 12:45 p.m, Doherty and other officers drive to Andrew’s farm to interview anyone working/living there.

Between 12:45 p.m and 3:30 p.m, I was unable to find adequate information.

At 3:30 p.m, photos were taken of the bodies and skulls.

At 5:00 p.m, Emma arrives home from Fairhaven.

Between 5:00 p.m and 5:30 p.m, state detective Seaver arrives.

At 5:30 p.m, Dolan delivers the bodies of Andrew and Abby to an undertaker.

At 6:00 p.m, Alice leaves to return to her home.

At 8:45 p.m, Officer Hyde reports seeing Alice and Lizzie enter the cellar, though no one else had seen Alice return to the Borden house.

And that’s that. That’s the recorded timeline that I’ve put together of the day. Now, I’ll be getting into the two most popular theories.

Lizzie.

Lizzie Borden is the most popular suspect, and one of the most notorious women in American history. It’s easy to understand why she was the main suspect. Her close relationship with her father, her reportedly odd behavior, and her strained relationship with her stepmother, Abby.

Lizzie and Abby had never had a familial relationship. Lizzie would refer to Abby as “Mrs. Borden,” and neither she nor Emma would call her “mother.” They were, though, mostly civil to each other. However, tensions rose when Andrew placed Abby before Emma and Lizzie in his will, as well as buying houses for Abby’s relatives.

The placing of Abby as the first beneficiary in the will would have angered Lizzie and Emma, who were both unmarried and were thus financially dependent upon Andrew. Were he to die, Lizzie and Emma would then have to rely on Abby. Though Abby was not reported as showing any anger towards Lizzie and Emma, the relationship was strained on both sides.

I can’t talk about Lizzie without mentioning the relationship between the sisters and Andrew. Lizzie was the youngest daughter of Andrew, and when she was a teen, she gifted her father a ring, which he would often wear or carry with him. This was odd due to the fact that those who knew him would often say that Andrew was not sentimental. Emma, on the other hand, still held a cold relationship with Andrew. Emma and Lizzie’s biological mother died when Emma was 13, and Emma very quickly had to take on the role of mother to Lizzie. Andrew was reported as having refused help from outside family members, preferring to keep a quiet, closed doors family with Lizzie and Emma.

By all accounts, the family relationship was cold, even from the time that Lizzie was a child. It was Emma and Lizzie together, against Andrew and Abby. Except, of course, for the relationship between Lizzie and Andrew.

If this relationship was as inappropriate as it seems, then Lizzie truly was, at the time of the murders, trapped. Lizzie never knew a mother, as she never formed a relationship with Abby. Andrew was her only parental connection, and even if there truly was no inappropriate relationship occurring, he was still a cold man who was more of a household leader than a father.

For those who believe that Lizzie committed the murders, there are various motives given. The two I have mentioned, financial dependence and abuse, and more. One popular theory is that Lizzie was having a secret affair with Bridget or Alice, and this affair was found out, so Lizzie committed the murders out of fear of punishment or exposure.

Usually paired with the abuse theory, it’s also commonly thought that Lizzie had cared for pigeons in the barn, which were then killed by Andrew as punishment.

Once more, it’s very easy to see why Lizzie was a suspect for all the reasons I’ve mentioned. As well, her testaments following the murders were contradictory. Officers reported that she seemed aloof (although, it is important here to note that neighbors noted that she was distressed and that she simply presented her emotions in a different way.) There was a bucket of bloody clothing in the cellar. It seemed as if Lizzie would have been the only one able to commit the murders.

John Morse

John Morse has gained popularity as a suspect in recent years, as people have begun to poke holes in his alibi.

Morse was the brother of Andrew’s first wife and the biological uncle of Lizzie and Emma. But he seemed to have a closer, though businesslike, relationship with Andrew.

The day prior to the murders, Morse came to the Borden household for a surprise visit, discussing finances and business with Andrew. It’s commonly reported that this discussion grew into an argument, ending with Morse losing.

Despite this, and his profession as a butcher, Morse was dropped as a suspect very quickly, due to him having an alibi that seemed rock solid. Almost too rock solid. He provided numbers of streetcars and buggies that he passed, made sure to strike up public conversations, and took notes of exact times. Morse left his niece’s house a minute after the officers first arrived at Lizzie’s, despite the fact that he had not yet learned of the murders.

When he returned home, he told an officer that he had heard of the murders from Bridget. However, he had not had access to a phone nor a telegram in the time between him leaving his niece’s house and his arrival at the Borden house. Prior to him leaving his niece’s house, he would have had an eight-minute to receive a telegram or phone call, although his niece did not report that. In those eight minutes, however, Bridget was with Churchill and Alice, and would not have had the time to send a message to Morse. Though it would be easy to say that Bridget may have met him outside and informed him, according to all reports, Bridget remained inside with the rest of the household.

Interestingly, Morse also knew where Abby’s body was despite not being told.

As much as neither of these theories can be proven, they cannot be disproven either. Unless we one day uncover new evidence that alters the case, any theory could be true, even ones that I didn’t mention here. Perhaps it was a snubbed employee of Andrew’s, perhaps it was the man stealing pears, perhaps it was whoever owned the buggy parked by the Borden house, or perhaps it was Bridget. None of these, we can definitively say, happened or didn’t happen.

All we know is that, 129 years ago today, Andrew and Abby Borden were killed in their Fall River home, but the legacy of their mysterious end lives on.

#woooo hoooo woohoo #ill be queing this to reblog thruout the day #lizzie borden #lizzie #lizzie the musical #lizzie (2018)#um thats all i can think of .#yeah.#please rb.#i did a lot into this lol

63 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

Chemistry Under Candlelight

Synopsis: Tom nervously prepares for your first date

continuation of Chemistry on the Couch but can be read on it’s own

Masterlist

“Hello beautiful. I hope this text finds you well. I have not stopped thinking about you since we kissed in the elevator. I enjoyed that kiss very much and I was hoping we could perchance go on a date?” Tom read robotically from his phone. “How’s that?”

Tom looked at his friends expectantly after he read them the first draft of his text to you. It had been three days since you kissed him in the elevator and he wanted to play it cool, but he needed some help.

Zendaya and Harrison looked at each other with a similar look on their faces, avoiding eye contact with Tom.

“If you want her to get a restraining order, it’s smashing.” Harrison said finally, giving Tom and encouraging smile.

“I thought it was great.” Zendaya added and Tom sighed in relief. “Are you method acting for the part of a stalker or something?”

“You guys are supposed to me helping me.” Tom whined. “Clearly I need it.”

“What makes you think we can help?” Zendaya scoffed.

“You’re supposed to be an expert on this, Daya.” Tom said. “You’re the smoothest person I know.”

“Thank you. A little Shea butter and coconut oil goes a long way.” She smiled as she stretched ostentatiously.

“That’s not what I meant.” Tom groaned. “Look, I really like this girl. The whole world knows I really like this girl. I can’t mess this up. What am I supposed to text her?”

“How did you leave things?” Harrison wondered, figuring that was a good place to start.

“We made out in the elevator and she left in my hoodie and sweatpants.” Tom soft softly with a shy smile on his face. “She also told me to text her.”

“Give me your phone.” Zendaya rolled her eyes and held out her hand.

“Why?” Tom asked as he handed it to her.

“Because I don’t want to listen to you whining for the rest of your life because you ruined your chance with Y/n by sending her a creepy text.” Zendaya said simply as she began to type. “There.”

She handed Toms phone back to him and he eagerly took it, turning it to read what she sent.

“How’s my hoodie treating you?” He read the text sent to you. “That’s it?”

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing.” Zendaya shrugged and leaned on her hand. Tom looked at the text, skeptical of how different it was from his original one. There was no romance, no passion, no-

“She answered!” Toms train of thought haulted abruptly when he heard his phone ding. “What do I do?”

“I suggest you read it. Just a thought though.” Harrison said sarcastically from the other couch. Tom swallowed nervously before looking down to read your response.

“It’s been keeping me warm. You’d probably keep me warmer though.” Tom read out loud. “And then she put the emoji with the eyes looking to the side.”

“That’s good.” Zendaya nodded. “That’s flirty. Flirty is good.”

Tom opened his mouth to speak but shut it suddenly as his eyes grazed his screen, a sheepish smile lighting up his face.

“What?” Harrison wondered what had made his friend react like that.

“She said it smells like me.” Tom said with a sense of pride as he looked up from his phone.

“That could be a bad thing.” Harrison shrugged. “It could smell horrible.”

“She’s talking about your cologne.” Zendaya gave Harrison a warning look before looking back at Tom. “Tell her you bet it smells even better now.”

“I bet it smells even better now…” Tom spoke out loud as he typed.

“Perfect.” Zendaya smiled, relaxing back into the couch.

“…because your body has been inside it.” He continued before looking at Zendaya for approval. “That good?”

“Can you honestly look me in the eyes and ask me if that’s good?” Zendaya asked through gritted teeth.

“What’s wrong with it?” Tom held up his hands in defense, unsure why she got so angry with his message.

“With his whole chest, too.” Harrison mumbled as he shook his head. “He asked that with his whole chest.”

“I’m so disappointed in you. Give me your phone.” Zendaya held out her hand again.

“Okay, but I totally could’ve handled this on my own.” Tom said timidly as he handed his phone back to her.

“Tell that to the God awful text you almost sent her.” Zendaya rolled her eyeshadow she typed. “She wrote back.”

“That was fast.” Harrison noted. “That means you have her full attention right now.”

“What’d she say?” Tom bounced up and down as he grew impatient.

“You’ll have to come find out for yourself.” Zendaya read off Toms phone. “And then a smiley face.”

“A smiley face emoji or a typed out smiley face?” Harrison asked.

“Does that matter?” Tom wondered.

“It’s crucial.” Harrison insisted. “Which is it?”

“Typed out.” Zendaya wiggled her eyebrows and Harrison looked impressed.

“Oh, dude. She’s into you.” Harrison smirked.

“You can tell just from a colon and parentheses that she’s into me?” Tom asked, hoping his friend was right.

“Yeah.” Harrison said like it was obvious. “Can’t you?”

“I honestly don’t think I can do much of anything.” Tom mumbled.

“I’m writing her back.” Zendaya announced as her fingers flittered over his phone.

“What are you saying?”

“I asked if she was still in London.” Zendaya replied. “She’s here until the 4th. What’s the address of your weird house with the stupid chickens?”

“You mean my lovely house with my beautiful chickens?” Tom sassed. “It’s 221b Baker Street.”

“She’s coming over tomorrow. You’re making her dinner.” Zendaya said simply as she handed Tom his phone back. Toms face lit up as he read the texts for himself. He already knew what they said, but he could read it in your voice when he looked at them.

“And then you’re gonna hit that.” Harrison interrupted his thoughts with a loud clap of his hands.

“Harrison!” Tom snapped. “Why would I hit her? You should never hit a woman.”

“That’s…I didn’t…no.” Harrison rubbed his eyes as Tom completely misunderstood what he was saying.

“I don’t have time for your games.” Tom whined, still not getting it. “I have to learn how to cook in less than 24 hours.”

“You also have to thank your friend for securing you a date with your dream girl.” Zendaya shrugged as she sighed loudly.

“Yes. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.” Tom said sincerely as he took another look at your texts.

“I do what I can.” Zendaya nodded. She’s never admit it, but she hoped this ended well.

“I don’t get a thanks?” Harrison asked with offense.

“You can get a thanks if you help me cook dinner tomorrow.” Tom pleaded as he clasped his hands under his chin.

“Sounds good to me.” Harrison agreed, making Tom sigh in relief.

“I have a date with Y/n tomorrow.” Tom spoke, letting it sink in as he said it out loud.

“You do.” Zendaya laughed. “Don’t blow it.”

“I won’t.” Tom shook his head, still staring at your texts. “I won’t.”

“Call me Remy, because your boy came through with the food.” Harrison said proudly as he held up a glass pan covered with tinfoil. He had a big reusable bag around one arm, looking far more prepared than Tom was. His shirt was only half buttoned, as it was only one of many that he had tried on. Of course Tom had waited until he had a date with you to realize he hated all his clothes.

“You’re a life saver, Haz.” Tom thanked his friend. “What did you make?”

“Personally I made a phone call to Sam and asked him to make me a roast chicken.” Harrison admitted. “Then I made the drive over here with said roast chicken in my passenger seat.”

“Works for me.” Tom shrugged, taking the chicken and walking with Harrison to the kitchen.

“I also made a trip to the store and got ice cream sundae supplies. I figured some cute domestic shit could come out of that.” Harrison shrugged as he set the reusable bag on the table.

“Good thinking. How did you get so good at this?” Tom wondered as he put the ice cream in the freezer.

“Years and years of watching reality TV.“ Harrison sighed, looking off in the distance for a moment. “Now, what’s going on with your shirt? You look homeless.”

“I can’t find an outfit.” Tom whined anxiously as he flapped his hands.

“Okay, calm down.” Harrison said as he put his hands on Toms shoulders. “You’re acting like a teenage girl in opening scene of a Disney Chanel original movie.”

“What do I wear?” Tom asked desperately. “I hate all my clothes.”

“Wear the navy shirt with the white outline on the pocket. It brings out your eyes.” Harrison shrugged as he licked his hand before using it to fix Toms hair. The two boys stared at each other for a moment as an awkward silence settled between them before Tom cleared his throat.

“I love girls.” Tom nodded repeatedly, using a deeper voice than usual. “I can’t wait to go on a date with this girl.”

“Me too.” Harrison agreed, cracking his neck on both sides and flexing his muscles. “I like girls. Girls are great.”

“I’m gonna go get changed.” Tom pointed to his door and Harrison nodded eagerly.

“Good idea.” He said. “I’ll put the chicken in the oven.”

Tom dashed to his room, laughing a little to himself as he went. He returned shortly with the navy shirt on, feeling more confident than before.

“Can you set the table while I get the candles?” Harrison asked from the kitchen as he took the rest of the sundae supplies out of the bag.

“Candles?”

“It’s called, romance, Tom.” Harrison scoffed. “Girls love candles. Have you ever walked past a Yankee Candle store in the mall? It’s just a bunch of girls with their noses shoved in candles. They go crazy for them.”

“My mum loves candles.” Tom folded his arms as he realized.

“Exactly.” Harrison smirked. “Where do you keep yours?”

“The closet.”

“I’ll go grab them.” Harrison said as he left the room. Tom took out two plates and put them at opposite ends of the table. He was busy setting out utensils when Harrison returned with the candles.

“I told you to set the table.” Harrison said as he set the candles down.

“I did!” Tom pointed to the table. “All the utensils and plates are out.”

“You put the place settings at the heads of table.” Harrison rose his voice as he gestured to Toms work. “What is this, Beauty and the Beast?”

“What was I supposed to do? Seat her next to me?” Tom asked like it was ridiculous.

“That’s exactly what you were supposed to do!” Harrison yelled. “Do you not have vision?”

“I think it looks nice.” Tom defended his work.

“This is not nice.” Harrison shouted as he roughly grabbed the place setting. “This is the Last Supper.”

“What do I do?” Tom panicked. “She’s gonna be here soon.”

“She’s gonna sit at the head of the table because she’s the guest.” Harrison explained as he moved a plate to the other end of the table. “You’re going to be sitting to her left because once the sun starts setting the lighting will make your eyes and skin glow. Girls love that. Hell, I love that.”

“Okay. Sun, eyes, got it.” Tom nodded as he mentally took note of everything Harrison was saying.

“Do you have a vase?” Harrison asked he he neatly set the table to perfection.

“No. I have glass cups?” Tom offered in its place, getting an angry look from Harrison before getting slapped on the back of the head.

“Ow!” Tom rubbed the back of his head and looked at Harrison angrily.

“That’s not the same thing!” Harrison snapped. “I’m gonna see if Mrs. Beverly next door has a vase we can borrow. Stay here and don’t touch anything.”

“I’m in my own house. If I want to touch something-“ Tom cut himself off when he noticed the death glare Harrison was giving him.

“I won’t touch anything.” Tom said sheepishly. Harrison gave him a tight, sarcastic smile before leaving the house. He returned shortly with a vase in one hand and daises in the other.

“She gave me flowers too.” Harrison smiled proudly as he filled the vase with water and put it in the center of the table. “Now you look put together.”

“I look put together because I have flowers on my table? I doubt it.” Tom scoffed, though the flowers did add a nice touch.

“Oh my God. Were you raised by bears?” Harrison groaned as he lit two candles, one on each side of the vase.

“I don’t know how to do this! I’ve never done this.” Tom reminded him, secretly impressed with how nice Harrison had made the table look. The smell coming from the kitchen was heavenly, and Tom knew he looked good. He was starting to think he might actually pull this off.

“I know.” Harrison sighed, calming down now. “I can’t believe your first date is with your dream girl. No pressure, right?”

“Go big or go home.” Tom chuckled, nervously toying with the bottom of his shirt. The doorbell ringing made both boys heads snap up before looking at each other in fear.

“She’s here. Quick! Hide in the closet!” Tom whispered harshly as he pushed Harrison towards the coat closet.

“Or I could go out the back door. That’s also an option.” Harrison whispered back sarcastically.

“I might need you for something. You have to stay. But you know, in the closet.” Tom smokers apologetically as he pushed Harrison inside.

“The things I do for you.” Harrison shook his head in disdain as he squeezed in between Toms coats.

“Love you.” Tom said weakly before closing the door.

“Yeah, whatever.” He beard Harrison mumble as he opened his front door. You stood on his porch in a dress the color of a red velvet cupcake. Your lips matched the color of the dress and for a moment, Tom couldn’t think of anything else.

“Hi.” He blurted, a shy smile crossing his face as he stepped aside to let you in.

“Hi. I missed you.” You laughed lightly as you pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back comfortingly when you noticed how nervous he was.

“I missed you too.” Tom mumbled into your ear before letting go. You kept your hand on his shoulder after pulling away, seeing the look of fear in his eyes and he stared at your lips.

“You look scared.” You chuckled. “Are you wondering if you should kiss me or not?”

“Are you a mind reader?” Tom asked with wide eyes, being as that was exactly what he was thinking.

“No. Just a face reader.” You joked as you gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“I didn’t want to assume you wanted to kiss me.” Tom spoke softly, avoiding eye contact by looking at the ground. You smiled at his shy demeanor before putting your pointer finger under his chin, using it to tilt his face up. Before he could react, you were leaning in and kissing him. You let it linger a moment before pulling away, feeling a sense of pride when you saw how flustered it made him.

“I wanted you to kiss you.” You whispered against his lips before leaning back, giving him time to relax. Tom put a hand over his heart, grinning cheekily as he caught his breath.

“Somehow, it’s even better than I remembered.” He laughed in disbelief at what just happened.

“Yeah. I know the feeling.” You raised an eyebrow, signaling to him that you enjoyed it as much as he did.

“Let me give you a tour of the house.” Tom said confidently, taking charge now.

“Sure.” You linked your arm with his and followed him through each room of his house. You clocked a framed picture of you and him as kids from the Secret Life of Arietty premier, feeling your face flush to know he cherished that moment as much as he did. Finally, he brought you to the table.

“This is the living room.” He gestured to the table before he heard the oven ding. “And that’s our food.”

“It smells amazing, Tom. I didn’t know you could cook.” You complimented him as he walked a few paces away into the kitchen.

“I didn’t either.” Tom laughed nervously, feeling bad for lying to you.

“What did you make?”

“I made…something.” Tom blinked as he forgot what Sam had made. “Something delicious.”

“Sounds great. Thank you.” You said sarcastically before laughing at his strangeness. Tom gave you a bashful smile from the kitchen before opening the oven.

“It’s chicken!” He called from the kitchen. “I made chicken. All by myself.”

“I’m so proud.” You laughed again, chalking it up to him being nervous.

“OW.” He yelled from the kitchen. You looked up and saw him bouncing up and down while clutching his hand.

“Is everything okay?” You worried.

“I forgot things in the oven are hot.” Tom responded, pain evident in his voice. You were by his side in no time, touching his back gently to let him know you were there.

“Let me see.” You instructed as you took his hand and found a red mark on his palm from where he touched the pan.

“Ouch.” He laughed weakly, taking notice of how close you were standing to him. You smiled assuringly at him and walked him to the sink, turning on the cold water and putting his hand under it. He winced at first, but the pain slowly melted away the longer his hand was under the water.

“I can’t believe I did something so stupid.” He shook his head, feeling embarrassed for goofing up in front of you.

“It’s okay.” You shook your head. “I do this all the time.”

“You do?” He asked, wondering if you were just trying to make him feel better. “ Do you cook a lot?”

“No, not at all. I’m terrible at cooking.” You chuckled. Tom laughed too, knowing he had that in common. “I’m a decent baker though.”

“Last time I baked I had to call the fire brigade.” Tom recalled his nearly fatal cupcake incident.

“I’ll have to show you how to do it sometime.” You looked at him through your lashes, nudging him slightly as you turned the water off.

“It’s a date.” Tom smiled softly. You brought his hand to your lips and pressed a kiss to the burn, leaving your lipstick stain with it. You grabbed the oven mitts and took the chicken out before turning the oven off.

“Here. I’ll bring this to the table.” You said pointedly as you walked back to the table.

“I’ll get the drinks.” Tom decided. He joined you at the table with a bottle of soda a bucket of ice.

“Ginger ale.” You looked up at him in shock when you saw what he was carrying. “That’s my favorite.”

“I am your biggest fan, after all. I know these things.” Tom shrugged causally as he poured some Ginger ale into your glass. After setting the bottle down, he pulled your chair out for you so you could sit down.

“Here’s to our first date.” He smiled as he held up his cup.

“First of many.” You added as you clinked your glass against his.

You made easy conversation as you ate, always making Tom laugh at something or another. He was falling in love with you every second, and the same could be said for you.

“These flowers are beautiful.” You said as you stole a carrot off his plate.

“Thank you. I grow some in my garden by the chickens.” He lied, not even knowing what he was saying at this point. He was pretty sure Harrison stole the flowers from Mrs. Beverleys backyard.

“You own chickens?” Your jaw dropped as you turned around to see into his backyard.

“Yes, but don’t worry. The chicken we’re eating now is from the store, not my backyard.” Tom assured you, making you laugh.

“Okay good.” You chuckled. “The candles are a nice touch too. You really know how to set a table.”

“Only the best for my girl.” Tom shrugged as he took a sip of his drink, immediately scrunching his eyes in embarrassment. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you my girl.”

“Don’t be sorry. I liked it.” You bit your lip and looked at him fondly. Toms eyebrows raised, always pleasantly surprised by you.

“Okay then.” He smiled proudly. “Then would my girl like some more ginger ale?”

“I would.” You giggled as you held up your cup. You took a long sip before leaning on one hand and running your fingernails over his hand with the other.

“You know, the sun is hitting you perfectly right now.” You told him, timidly looking at him from your seat. “You look beautiful.”

Tom gasped a little as Harrison’s plan worked before blushing at your compliment.

“So do you.” He said softly, not feeling confident enough to look at you when he said it.

“The chicken was really good, Tom.” You changed the subject before you turned into a blushing mess. “How did you season it?”

“Oh, you know…salt.” Tom said the first thing that came to his mind.

“Salt?” You asked, surprised with his answer.

“And pepper.” He added quickly.

“Salt and pepper? What made it spicy?” You wondered.

“That would be the cinnamon.” Tom was just listing all the spices he knew at this point, feeling caught in his web of lies.

“Wow. I would never think to put cinnamon on a roast chicken.” You jutted your lip out, looking equally impressed and confused.

“Me either.” Tom squeaked, the guilt of lying getting to him now.

“I can take your plate if you’re done. I’m just gonna rinse it and then grab dessert.” He changed the subject quickly before you could think too hard about the chicken.

“Or we could rinse the dishes together.” You suggested. “It’ll go even faster.”

“You’re always thinking ahead, aren’t you?” He noticed. “I can barely think in the present.”

“Don’t worry about it, Tom. I can do enough thinking for the both of us.” You laughed as you took his hand and lead him to the kitchen. He turned the sink on and was about to put his dish under it when you stopped him.

“Wait.” You kept his hand back. “Wait for it to get hot.”

“Why?”

“To melt away any sauce. Cold water won’t get it off.” You explained. Tom looked up, thinking about what you said and realizing he was never able to get sauce off his plates before putting them in the dishwasher.

“Honestly darling, I have no idea how I’ve survived this far without you.” Tom said bluntly. Your laugh echoed through the kitchen as you rinsed the plates before putting them in the dishwasher.

“I don’t know either.” You shook your head playfully. Tom felt a surge of confidence go through him, leading to him leaning in and kissing your temple. He quickly turned away and went to the counter, gathering the sprinkles and whip cream before you could see his blush.

“Can you carry these to the table please?” He requested as he held them out.

“Are we making sundaes?” You gasped as you took the sprinkles from him.

“We are, if that’s okay with you.”

“That’s perfect.” You gushed. “I haven’t had a sundae since I was a kid.”

“I know. I haven’t had one since yesterday.” Tom sighed dramatically as he got the ice cream from the freezer, missing the way his joke made you light up.

You walked back to the table together, immediately sensing something was different.

“Why is it dark in here?” Tom asked as he set the ice cream down.

“Looks like your candle burned out.” You answered as you picked up one of the candles. You held it out for him to see, and he could see that the wick had burned all the way to the bottom.

“Shoot. We simply cannot eat this without candles.” Tom joked, trying to keep calm as the newfound darkness threatened his perfect dinner.

“Obviously.” You humored him.

“I have to get another one.” He decided, feeling frustrated with himself for literally leaving you in the dark. “How could I let this happen? We can’t have a candle lit dinner without candles.”

“Tom, it’s okay.” You told him, sensing that he was psyching himself out. “We don’t need candles.”

“No, it’s not okay.” He shook his head. “I should’ve checked how much wax was left before I lit them.”

“Tom. Look at me.” You took his face between your hands and made him look at you. “No one checks how much wax is left. I get the feeling you’re a little stressed out, yeah?” You asked calmly.

“A wee bit.” He smiled weakly.

“I’m gonna get the candles while you try and relax, alright?” You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks to calm him down. “Where do you keep them?”

“In the closet by the front door.”

“I’ll be right back.” You let your hand drag on his cheek as you walked towards the closet.

“Okay. I’ll be here.” He called after you before taking a seat and trying to relax.

You found the closet he was talking about and opened it, jumping a little when you were met with two blue eyes.

“Oh. Hello.” You greeted as you reached for the candles on the top shelf.

“Cheers, mate.” Harrison nodded in embarrassment. “Are you having a good time?”

“I am.” You answered honestly. “Are you?”

“I’m alright. A little cramped.” He shrugged.

“Hey, Tom?” You called out.

“Yeah, darling?” He answered as he walked to where you were.

“Are you aware there’s a grown man in your closet?” You asked him as you nodded towards Harrison. Toms eyes widened as he realized he forgot all about Harrison in the closet.

“Oops. This isn’t the bathroom.” Harrison said weakly, trying to lie for Toms sake.

“Harrison, could you please come out of the closet.” Tom gulped.

“Tom, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” Harrison declared as he stepped out of the closet.

“No, not like that.” Tom waved his hand is dismissal of Harrison’s joke. “Get out of my coat closet.”

Harrison shut the closet door and gave you an awkward smile and wave, which you returned.

“Y/n, this is Harrison. He’s my best mate and a much better at this than me. Everyone’s better at this than me.” Tom sighed. “My brother made the chicken and it was Harrison’s idea to have the candles and the flowers and make sundaes. All I could think of was pulling your chair out.” Tom looked down in shame.

“I appreciated that.” You said sincerely, stepping closer to him to let him know he still had you on the hook.

“You’re probably wondering why I offered to cook you dinner if I can’t cook, but I didn’t even offer to cook you dinner. My other mate was the one texting you because I had no idea what to say and I didn’t want to blow it with you.” Tom was confessing all his secrets now. Harrison quietly stepped back, letting the two of you speak.

“So you got your friend to flirt with me through text?” You asked for clarification.

“Yes.”

“And then hired your other brother to make us dinner?” You pointed your thumb towards the the kitchen.

“Yes.”

“And then got your other friend to prepare everything before you stuffed him in a closet?” You chuckled playfully, making Tom look up. He thought he had completely blown it, but the look on your face told him you found it funny.

“Yes.” Tom replied. “But in my defense, he willingly went in the closet.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say willingly. Forced might be a better term.” Harrison mumbled as he averted his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning.” He sighed. “And the truth is, I don’t know how to do this. I can’t talk to girls, especially ones I’ve fancied my entire life. And I’m a shit cook. I can’t even boil water. I’ve been lying to you all night. I can’t imagine what you’re thinking right now.”

You took another step closer to Tom and ran your fingernails over his arm.

“I’m thinking the best part of my week has been sitting here talking to you.” You told him, much to his surprise. “Not the texting, not eating the food I thought you made, just talking to you. That’s what I’ve enjoyed. Don’t get me wrong, the food was great. But I could not care less if you made it or not. All I care is if you want to go on another date after this one. And another one after that.”

“And another one after that?” Tom asked hopefully.

“Yeah. And-“

“Let me guess, another one after that?” Harrison cut in with a roll of his eyes.

“Stop listening, you trilobite.” Tom snapped before returning his attention to you with a loving smile.

“I was just leaving.” Harrison nodded curtly and excused himself.

“I really like you, Tom.” You stoked his cheek as you spoke. “So if you need your friends to text me and cook for us, that’s fine. As long as you’re the one I’m talking to, I’ll be okay.”

“I have a proposition for you.” Tom smiled, putting his hand over yours to keep it against his cheek.

“I’d love to hear it.” You raised an eyebrow.

“I will take you on as many dates as you want.” He began.

“Okay. Sounds good so far.”

“But I get to call you my girlfriend, not just my girl.” He smirked, slinking his arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest.

“I think I can work with that.” You told him before connecting your lips to his.

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort @foreverxholland @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @purefluff @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258 @maybemona @young-romanoff @alexxcorona113 @spidey-reids-2003 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @itstaskeen @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland blurb

731 notes · View notes

astrowitch · 3 years

Text

An Enjoltaire WIP

This is a scene from a big project I’m currently working on. As you may be able to tell, this scene is unfinished, but I’m pretty proud of it so far. I’ve tried to make the dialogue as authentic as I can to the 19th century, but it can be hard to do while still trying to be true to your own writing. It’s definitely ambitious, but I’ve tried my best, so please be patient with me.

June 4th, 1832

“Grantaire, please just listen to me-“

“No! I’m not going to listen to you justify getting yourself killed!”

“You don’t know that I’ll be killed! What if we succeed? Then we still have time…then we have a bright future for France!”

Grantaire sighed deeply, a sense of despair washing over him as he exhaled.

“Enjolras, mon ange,” He began, gripping the blonde man’s soft, slender hand within his own big and rough one, “You are so idealistic. How I envy you and pity you at the same time. Your mind is beautiful, optimistic, everything I’ve ever wanted to be. But it is unrealistic. The National Guard will not listen to the people, much less students. I’m begging, if you just call this off, no one has to die. We can…we can be guaranteed time,” Grantaire’s voice caught in his throat as he finished what he was saying. Of course, right when he had earned a stroke of luck, the thing that he was living for was to be stripped away from in a matter of hours. Grantaire so desperately wanted to wake up tomorrow morning in his rooms with his lovely Enjolras in his arms and the sunlight beating down upon them. He knew that this wish was in vain, for Enjolras was the most selfless person he had ever met. He couldn’t be satisfied until everyone around him was. Grantaire would follow Enjolras to the ends of the Earth, so deep down, he knew that not only were these his last day or two with Enjolras and his friends, but also his last days alive.

Enjolras had a look of frustration on his face, but still had a firm grip on Grantaire’s hand. His blue eyes bore straight into his lover’s soul, and Grantaire wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold his tears back. Hell, Grantaire didn’t even know if this Heaven he had been taught about was real. If God was real, how dare he burden this suffering upon Grantaire’s, Enjolras’s, and all of France’s backs.

“Grantaire, nothing you say can stop me. I know what I must do. My duty lies with France, and I cannot let her down. I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you, not a care in the world, but none of that is possible until France is reformed! When I feel the crunch of the monarchy beneath my feet, I will be at rest,” Enjolras rambled, his grip on Grantaire’s hand getting tighter. His eyes told a different story than his words, and it was easy to tell just how terrified Enjolras was behind his cover of fearless leader. It was in moments like these that Grantaire recognized Enjolras’ humanity, contrary to when he first met the man.

Alexandre Enjolras was not a god. He was just a boy with a dream.

Cynical Adrien Grantaire was irrevocably and utterly in love with him. Grantaire’s heart was breaking more every second he thought about losing his love.

“Enjolras, please. I can’t lose you. I-,” Grantaire choked on a sob before he could mutter those three words to the boy in front of him.

Arms immediately came to envelope Grantaire in a tight embrace. He felt the familiar soft curls brush up against his neck, and he tried to keep his sobs under control.

“I know, Adrien. I know. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry-,” Enjolras was speaking through tears too, as Grantaire felt them soaking the collar of his shirt. It was even more unusual to hear Enjolras speaking his first name though, then it was to see him shedding a tear.

Shakily, Grantaire brought one of his hands up from Enjolras’ waist to card it through his Apollonian curls. “I…I would call you Alexandre, but I think you might actually kick me,“ He tried joking, but it came out watery and desperate. Enjolras still let out a broken laugh, and Grantaire’s heart soared at the thought of himself bringing Enjolras joy.

“Grantaire, I- there’s just so much I want to say to you and so little time. There are so many injustices in the world, and I feel that this is one of them,” mused Enjolras, his composure clearly cracking.

“I think we’ve finally come to an agreement on something. How bittersweet those words taste on my tongue in a time like this,” Grantaire leaned his forehead against Enjolras’ own. The pair of them were an incredibly melancholy sight.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras broke Grantaire out of his cage of darkness.

“Yes?” He replied, the smallest twinge of hope manifesting in his voice.

“I…I need you to stay as far away as you can from the barricade tomorrow. I may be risking my life, but…but you don’t have to. Do you understand me?” These words looked like they were physically painful for Enjolras to say, like thousands of little knives pierced his throat as they fell from his mouth.

Grantaire let out a humorless laugh at that. “Enjolras, you really believe that I will stay away from you tomorrow?” He started.

“Grantaire, please-“

“Enjolras. My world is nothing without you. I have no one if you and the others are to expire at the barricade. Living alone for eternity is a far worse fate than dying together. I told you that I would never abandon you, and I intend to keep that promise. There…there is no longer an Adrien Grantaire without an Alexandre Enjolras I’m afraid. My soul intertwined with yours the moment I laid eyes on you. Tomorrow, I’ll be there with you. I’ll die with you…and I’d do it over and over again for a million years if it meant I’d get to experience whatever we have,” Grantaire exhaled after he spoke these honest words.

Enjolras surged forward to capture Grantaire’s lips in a passionate kiss. Grantaire felt tears staining both his and Enjolras’ cheeks as they embraced. It was horribly poetic, their tears mixing. All their anguish was shared, much like their fates seemed to be. When Enjolras finally pulled away from their kiss, he buried his face in the crook of Grantaire’s neck, hiding himself from the world. He was holding on to Grantaire impossibly tight, like he’d somehow slip away from his grasp if he didn’t.

It was then Grantaire heard the most heart-wrenching sound; Enjolras gasping for breath, sobbing helplessly into his neck. This was so unlike the Enjolras that he had first met that it was almost disconcerting. This Enjolras was vulnerable and loving instead of cold and militaristic. This was the Enjolras that a lot of people didn’t have the pleasure of seeing. Of course, it was clear that Enjolras cared deeply for others, but he had never broken down like this before.

“Shhh…I’m here. We’re going to get through this…together,” Grantaire soothed, holding the golden boy in his arms close.

“I…I’ve never-“ Enjolras began, “I’ve never felt like this before. Oh, how Marius underestimated me in his speech about the girl he met. I do know how it feels to…to…,” he stumbled.

“To?” Grantaire questioned, hoping that this was going the way he believed it was.

“To be in love. Grantaire, you’ve changed me for the better. How could I have gone on to die without knowing how it felt to be cared for by you? You’ve made my task so much more difficult than it was before, not only because you have a fondness for playing Devil’s Advocate. You have the kindest heart I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. I’m honored that you let me in,” Enjolras didn’t have time to finish what surely would’ve been a long, rambling proclamation of love because Grantaire so quickly captured his lips in another kiss.

“So many call me cynical, but more honest words have never been spoken than when I told you that I loved you from the moment I saw you. I have been your beloved Patroclus from the very beginning, and you my Achilles. How queer it is that we’re also condemned to a tragic end! Maybe it makes our ephemeral romance all the more fascinating,” Enjolras couldn’t help but grin as Grantaire began his waxing of the classics. It was one of many little quirks he adored about the artist.

When Grantaire finished his spiel, the hopeless expression returned to his sullen face. Enjolras mirrored it, pressing his forehead against Grantaire’s own.

“We will treasure this night, live in our own world. Tomorrow, we return to the situation at hand. We honor General Lamarque, and we will rise up and show the king that we are tired and desolate. If we are to perish, at least we have made a point. At least we have perished for the sake of the people,” Enjolras, ever the patriot, insisted passionately. If this wasn’t such a tender moment between the two of them, Grantaire normally would’ve started an argument, but he had the wise judgement to not say anything.

#enjoltaire #enjoltaire fanfiction #enjolras #grantaire #les amis de l'abc #les mis #les miserables #victor hugo #aaron tveit #george blagden #enjoltaire fanfic #romanticism #exr

24 notes · View notes

the-broken-truth · 3 years

Note

Can you do a oneshot of Miranda x Male Reader? something about the male reader being Eva's father and that he disappeared in the first world war centuries ago and left miranda heartbroken and sad, but he did not really die and since he discovered that he was immortal and then he only remained hidden for centuries working for Russian organizations with a secret identity. and that after finding out that her lover was still alive and in a Romanian village, he went to see her. 👨 - 🐾 (EAGLE) - ✈

Wings Of A Feather - Mother Miranda x Male Eagle Shifter Reader

- Quick Key -

[Y/N] - YOUR FIRST NAME

[FL/N] - YOUR FAKE LAST NAME

[L/N] - YOUR LAST/SURNAME/FAMILY NAME

[H/C] - HAIR COLOR

[H/L] - HAIR LENGTH

[E/C] - EYE COLOR

[S/C] - SKIN COLOR

«Сержант [Y/N], ты слушаешь?» (Sergeant [Y/N], are you listening?) The voice of the Master Sergeant called out to the man rubbing his forehead on the other end of the meeting table who looked up with his [E/C] eyes upon hearing his rank and name.

«Да, сэр. Пожалуйста, простите меня, сейчас я довольно устал»." (Yes sir. Please do forgive me, I'm rather tired at the moment.") The man replied with a tired exhale.

«Это понятно, вы только что вернулись с месячной миссии с отдыхом. Вы уволены с этой встречи, вернитесь в свои апартаменты и расслабьтесь на весь день. Нам нужно проверить наш Орлиный Глаз». ("That's understandable, you've just returned from a month-long mission with rest. You are dismissed from this meeting, return to your quarters and relax for the day. We need our Eagle Eye in check.") The Master Sergeant said to the man. The Sergeant rose to his feet and saluted his Master Sergeant, who saluted back and he was on his way out of the room.

Sergeant [Y/N] [FL/N] walked down the hall of the Russian Special Ops base with his jacket draped over his shoulders - waving behind him with each step he took; he passed by two Corporals on his way who moved aside and saluted him. He gave a simple "Отставить." (As you were) as he marked down the path before reaching his private quarters.

The Russian Sergeant removed his hat and placed it on the coat rack by his door followed by his coat before he walked over to his desk and took a seat - pouring himself a glass of vodka as he looked out the window at the setting sun.

Oh, the sun - so many times has he seen it in all of the centuries he's lived.

Yes - Centuries.

The [H/C] haired man looked at his glass as he thought about how long he's been doing this - going around with names other than his own, joining militaries, after all, it was the only thing he's known...since the First World War.

[Y/N] thought back to when this all started - back to when he was something else; then he thought of them.

Miranda and Eva.

The Wife and The Daughter he left behind when he went to fight in the war.

There was never a day he didn't think about them: wondering how they were doing, if they were alright, or if they were even alive. So many questions about them filled his mind, he wanted nothing more than to return to them but he didn't know where they could possibly be.

When the first war was coming to a close - he was blown in the chest by a snipe rifle, it killed him...or at least, it should have. He woke up in the morgue which surprised the diener - a person who works in the morgue - that was working on preparing his body for an honorable burial. According to the man - that bullet ripped his heart to ribbons but now he was alive; they even sent a letter to his wife to inform her of his death.

Once he was given the okay to leave, he went back home to Miranda - only to find to the house he built for them was completely burned down and they were not there; fear filled his heart. Were his wife and daughter dead? Did Miranda take her and Eva's lives when she got that letter or...did someone else do this? Unsure of what to do - [Y/N] returned to the military and continued to serve before faking his death and starting over

He looked at a photo of him and Miranda when she was a few months pregnant with Eva that sat on his desk by his laptop - it was the only thing he had of them now. He gathered the picture in his hands and tried to fight back the tears that were coming.

'Miranda... Eva... Where are you?' He wondered but his thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. He stood up, walked over to the door, and opened it - revealing a Corporal with a folder in his hand.

"Капрал, я могу вам чем-то помочь?" (Corporal, can I help you with something?) He asked.

«Простите, что беспокою вас в свободное время, сэр». (Sorry for bothering you in your spare time, sir.) The Corporal saluted him, «Но есть кое-что, на что вам следует взглянуть». (But there is something you should look at.) He said as he held out the folder for the Sergeant to take. [Y/N] looked at the emblem on the folder and his eyes narrowed at the familiar logo on the front of the folder.

'Umbrella? What could they possibly what?' He thought to himself before looking at the Corporal before him.

«Что это? Они сказали, что хотели?» (What is this? Did they say what they wanted?) [Y/N] asked.

«Нет, сэр.» (No, sir) The young man shook his head. «Мужчина просто передал мне папку и сказал, чтобы я отнес ее вам. Он также сказал мне, что есть номер телефона, по которому вы можете позвонить». (The man just handed me the folder and told me to take it to you. He also told me that there is a phone number you can call.)

«Хорошо, я разберусь. Вы можете уходить, капрал.» (“Okay, I'll figure it out. You can leave, corporal.) [Y/N] said before closing his door.

He walked back over to his desk and opened the folder - something about the 4 Lords of Romania and Their Leader - Mother... His eyes widened.

"Miranda?" He gasped.

There were photos too - there were of the supposed 4 lords: A rather large lady, a veiled woman with a doll, a hunched back figure, and a man with a large hammer, and...

"That's her." he said.

Before him was a photo of a woman in a golden raven mask in black robes with black wings and some crest behind her. He looked at the number that left behind

XXX-XXX-XXX - Chris Redfield.

[Y/N] narrowed his eyes before calling the number and placed the phone to his ear - it picked up on the first ring.

"I see you chose to call me, Mr. [L/N]." A deep male voice said on the other side of the phone.

"How do you know that name?" [Y/N] asked.

"Umbrella knows a lot about you, Mr. [L/N]; we've been watching you since your face has shown up in our database since the first world war. We know you're not human, Eagle Eyes; but your eyes aren't the real reason people call you that, are they?" Chris asked over the phone.

"Just what do you want? Why have you sent this?" [Y/N] asked.

"We wanna make you a deal, Mr. [L/N]. I know you've been looking for your wife and daughter since your first death during the first world war but they haven't been located - I know where to find your wife." Chris said.

"And my daughter? What about Eva?" [Y/N] asked, gripping the phone tightly in his hand.

"That's the main reason I'm calling you - you see, your daughter is dead; she's been dead for centuries but your wife thinks she can bring Eva back by finding a proper vessel to rebirth her from. Here's what that has to do with me - the latest vessel she's taken is Rosemary Winters, the daughter of some very close friends of mine; she wants to use Rose to bring Eva back but I know it won't work. Her father and Umbrella are intending to get Rose back but that would mean killing your wife and everything she holds dear; we think you can stop that from happening." Chris explained - there was pure silence on the other end of the phone. "Mr. [L/N], are you still there?"

"Tell me exactly what you want me to do?"

[Timeskip - One Week Later / In an Airborne Helicopter above the Romanian Village.]

The side door of the helicopter opened and [Y/N] stood there - his hair blowing around in the high winds as he glared down at the earth below.

"Remember, Mr. [L/N] - Find Miranda and convince her to release Rose. Once that happens, we shall leave you and her to be as you wish." Chris said from his space sitting behind [Y/N].

"Just make sure you're ready, Redfield." And with that, [Y/N] jumped out of the helicopter.

His eyes narrowed as he fell from the bird of metal before he closed them - a warm feeling coursed through him as he felt the mortal flesh of his form shrink and take a new shape. Once he felt the wind against his wings - he opened his eyes again as he flew through the sky as the might eagle. He flapped to catch himself against the current before he got to a gliding height - he could see the village below. He got close to the ground and flapped again to slow himself before he changed forms again - back to his mortal face, his boots landing on the ground.

'Now, all I have to do is find one of the lords and they will take me to Miranda.' [Y/N] thought but his thoughts were cut short when he heard growling - turning, he saw the Lycans from Chris' File.

"Heisenberg's Servants." He pulled out two knives. "Just my luck." He darted forward and made quick work of the lycans before his knives went flying out of his hands - he turned again and there he stood: The 4th Lord.

"Karl Heisenberg." [Y/N] said as he glared at the hammer-wielder.

"Oh, you know me?" Karl asked.

"I know of you. I need you to take me to see Miranda right now." [Y/N] said.

"And just who the hell do you think you are, demanding to see Mother Miranda like that?" He asked.

"I'm her husband - [Y/N [L/N]." With those words, Karl's eyes widened.

"I heard of you; she talked about you some times." Karl looked the man up and down. "Alright, I'll take you to her but you need to cuffed; I don't know you that well,"

"Do what you will." [Y/N] held out his wrists, "Just take me to my wife."

"Fair enough."

[Timeskip - Miranda's Chapel]

"Heisenberg, just why have you called us here?" The tall lady asked before looking at [Y/N], "And who is this man-thing?"

"That's none of your business, Lady Super-Sized Bitch. This dude is for Mother Miranda." That made Alcina and Miranda raise their eyebrows.

"And who is this male that wants to see me?" Miranda asked.

Before anyone spoke - the bound man walked forward.

"It's been a while, Corbul meu întunecat." (My Dark Raven) That name made Miranda's eyes widen...and she removed her mask to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

"[Y/N]? Vulturul meu?" (My Eagle) Miranda asked as she walked closer.

"Yes." The man said with a smile.

The leader ran into his chest and clenched his shirt tightly - crying instantly.

"I MISSED YOU SO MUCH! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!" She cried.

"I'll tell you - we have a lot to talk about."

After hours of talking - everything came to the light: [Y/N] explained what happened all those centuries ago, Miranda explained her plan, [Y/N] managed to take her out of her & Rosemary - along with Mia Winters - was given to Chris Redfield. Ethan Winters was captured in Castle Dimitrescu by her daughters but was ordered to be let go. The Winters Family left with Umbrella and [Y/N] & Miranda sent all that week making up for all the centuries of lost time...and possibly making an Eva #2.

#ask #mother miranda x male reader #resident evil 8

141 notes · View notes

naruto-scenarios-plus-akatsuki · 3 years

Note

I'd like a scenario of Ino and Shika mourning the death of their dads and their uncles. It's not explored at all in the series, but I find it hard to believe that they weren't close. I wish Inoichi could have said something to Shikamaru, even if it was really short due to the time: "I'd have liked to see you grow even more. Work hard, Shikamaru". And Shikaku telling Ino something like "you've always been like a daughter to me. Make us proud'. Inoshikacho is the best family in Konoha.

Thank you for the request. I never lost a father or mother so I may not know the complete feeling but I have loss someone dear to me. With those feelings, I hoped I conveyed the sense of mourning and loss one truly feels when anyone close to them passes away.

“For the Lord Himself will descend from Heaven with a shout, with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord. Therefore comfort one another with these words.” 1 Thessalonians 4:16-17 NKJV

Loss and Remembering

The war was won. The enemy was defeated. Naruto was safe and Sasuke had returned. You would think all was well with the world. That good had won the day. Yet with any war there was always a cost. With anything left good to fight for there was a price.

Ino struggled with that price. Her and many of her comrades had suffered a loss during the war. There was an emptiness to her heart that she hadn’t felt before. A bare hole that was expanding with each passing day as the reconstruction of Konoha went on.

The memorial service for the fallen had already taken place and she had shed most of her tears at the event. Home was bittersweet without her dad. Every article and room had a memory of him in it that she could not erase. She had been a wreak the moment she stepped through the door of her house the first night she returned from the Land of Lightning.

The adrenaline and self-preservation no longer distracted her from the reality that her father had passed away. Her mother had already heard the news luckily before her arrival and embraced her only living child fully as soon as she returned. They both cried together, falling to the floor in their grief.

Death was common in the life of a shinobi, but although it is expected, the pain is still very real and affects the lives of those touched by the individual’s sacrifice. Both Ino and her mom knew what kind of man Inoichi was and how he would give his life for his village and comrades to keep them safe. He paid the ultimate price and although there was honor in his death, both of them were really hurt.

After the memorial and funeral service held for those fallen from the 4th Great Ninja War, Ino realized she wasn’t the only one hurting. The village had lost over a hundred lives. Her friends were all hurting. They had lost someone their own age, Neji, who died saving Hinata. Her teammate, Shikamaru, lost his own father. The pain evident on his face while Choji sympathized and cried too, feeling the lost of both of them.

She thought she had cried all that she had that day. The week building up to the funeral was nothing but tears and staying at home. When the day passed and the memory of the fallen forgotten, others were ready to pick up their lives where they left off. The second to the Yamanaka clan had took over as leader while the elders discuss what was next for the clan. They had expectations for her, and she soon had little time to feel anymore as she was filled with busy work.

They were prepping her to become the next leader. The added pressure weighing on her heart and shoulders, making her wonder if she was capable of it. She hadn’t seen her teammates since the funeral, but to be honest, she was currently lost in her own little world. A bubble filled with to-dos and things she had to learn.

Her elders and clan gave her many praises for her accomplishments in the war, but she would not take hold of the clan until she was of proper age. There were still many things for her to learn. They had told her that although war can advance someone’s maturity, they wanted to be sure she was ready.

Ino felt anything but ready. She hadn’t expected to come back from the war to take over her dad’s position. She thought he would still be here with her. She thought she had many more years left with him. With him teaching her, guiding her, loving her, but he was gone and now she wanted nothing more than her father’s warm embrace and kind smile, telling her how much he was proud of her.

Her mind winced at the thought. She thought she was okay but today was one of those days. She stopped in the middle of the street. The sun was beating down and sky was cloudless. There was hardly a breeze and civilians bustled around her going about their daily lives. So much has changed and yet life keeps on going. Her eyes were watching as the architects and stone cravers were working on the latest project of Kakashi’s face on the Hokage mountain.

She was staring at the piece for a while, lost in her own thoughts. A sense of discontent filling her being. She didn’t want to cry. She thought she was done crying. After the memorial service, she told herself she wasn’t going to cry anymore. She had her mom to be brave for and a clan to lead.

“Ino?”

She was driven out of her thoughts and looked away from the mountain top to see Choji in front of her.

“You okay?” He asked concerned.

“Yea,” she replied quickly, glad to have snapped out of it. She smiled out of habit.

“Are you sure?” he asked, not convinced. He was typically sensitive to other people’s emotions, especially his teammates that he has known since childhood.

“Yup, I had a few errands to run this morning and finally got a break for myself.” She gave a fake laugh.

Choji nodded. “How’s your mom doing? I’ve been meaning to stop by, but everything been so busy.”

“You’re telling me. Between clan duties, training, and the flower shop, I’m typically spent. My mom has been doing fine. She’s been tending to the Yamanaka gardens mostly. Spring just popped up, so we been replenishing our stock…” Ino trailed off.

Choji understood. The Yamanaka clan had supplied most of theflowers for the funeral service free of charge for those who were loss. The biggest bouquets going to Inoichi and Shikaku. Choji had a grim smile on his face.

“That’s great to hear.”

Ino nodded, smiling painfully. Her thoughts having led back to her dad. “Yup. Well I’ll catch you later Choji.” She said ready to make her exit and move pass him.

“Wait Ino.”

She stopped to listen.

“If you ever need to talk, you can talk to me. I miss your dad too, not as much as you probably do, and I know its probably not the same way I’m feeling. If anyone knows what your going through it would be Shikamaru,” he said gently.

Ino’s soft smile was more genuine this time. “Thanks Choji.” she said before she continuing on.

Her mind now was overwhelmed and swirling. She guessed she wasn’t doing as great as she thought she was if Choji could tell something was wrong. She sighed. She also felt like a terrible friend. She hadn’t checked up on Shikamaru. The loss of his dad was probably hurting him just as much and Ino knew Choji would be right that Shikamaru could relate to how she was feeling,but he seemed to be doing just fine.

She wondered how he was able to manage it. The grief, the pain, and the numbness from it. She made her way to the Hokage tower slowly, hoping to find her teammate.

Shikamaru was easy enough to find after asking the receptionist. He had his own personal office now and when she entered it, he was reading through a scroll. He looked up surprised to see her and greeted her. She felt awkward as she greeted him back.

He discerned her quickly, knowing something was on her mind.“What brings you here?”

“Oh, nothing just wanted to see how you are doing. I haven’t seen you in a while. I wanted to check in,” she expressed as if carefree.

Shikamaru leaned back in his chair and yawned. “Well I could use a break. Want to join me?”

She nodded and they both made their way out of his office and to the roof of the Hokage tower. They both found a seat on a bench up there and Shikamaru leaned back to stare at the clouds.

“So how are you holding up?” he asked bluntly.

“Is it that obvious?” She questioned insecure.

“No, but I know.” Shikamaru reasoned.

“I feel like I’m just supposed to magically move on from it but I don’t know how everything just keeps…”

“Reminding you of them?” Shikamaru finished.

“Yes,” Ino breathed. “It hurts. It really does. It feels like I lost…” She was lacking words how she was trying to express how she feels.

“I know,” Shikamaru nodded, his face solemn.

“How are you holding up so well?” Ino questioned in desperation.

“I’m not.” Shikamaru admitted. “I think of my father quite often. He showed me how to be a man. How to love. How to fight. How to be smart. I also think of Asuma often. He had depended on me, he was proud of me, he built me up, and never gave up on me.” He took out Asuma’s lighter, opening and closing it. “I miss them both greatly.” He said after a minute.

There was a silence.

“I miss your father as well.”

Ino sniffled trying to hold back tears but started to cry silently anyway.

“Inoichi was kind enough to relay a message from my father and I’m grateful for him to do so, to give me my father’s last words, but also, he too, gave me a message.”

Ino’s ears perked up and she stopped crying to listen more closely. “My dad left you a message too?”

“Yes, just briefly after my father’s words since there wasn’t much time. But your dad told me that he never had a son, but Choji and I were like sons to him. And he was proud of the men he knew we would become. He also asked for me to keep an eye on you.”

Ino smiled softly at that and thought about all Shikamaru had gone through. She thought of his dad, Shikaku. He was a brilliant man as well and she knew how much Shikamaru had admired and loved his dad.

“Your father gave me some advice once,” Ino recalled, and cleared her throat.

Shikamaru turned his head to listen now and stopped fidgeting with the lighter.

“It was when we were little and having a play date while the clan heads got together. You and Choji were being boys throwing rocks and climbing trees. I felt out of place and was mad about something and was sulking on the porch. The grownups went in to talk but before your dad went inside, he kneeled down next to me, seeing as I was staring at you two boys. He told me not to let my anger and sadness keep me from enjoying life and the people in my life.” Ino then giggled. “Of course, I was only six and couldn’t understand what he meant as of yet, but I think now his words ring a little clearer. I feel like the loss of them: Asuma, Shikaku, Neji and my dad will never go away.”

“Yet the pain shouldn’t keep us from living. Although the pain is very real, it is temporary. They will never be taken from our hearts or our memory. We’ll live a life they can be proud of and perhaps one day, we’ll see them again.”

That hope uplifted Ino’s spirits. “Yea, I suppose your right.”

Both of them fell into silence for a few moments, remembering the ones they lost. They spent a good while up on the rooftop, sharing more feelings and memories and coming to peace in the wake of the loss although the pain was definitely there. They had each other to comfort themselves and with that only time would heal.

#ino #shikamaru #choji #ino scenario #shikamaru scenario #Inoichi Yamanaka #inoichi #shikamaru nara #Ino Yamanaka #choji akimichi #inoshikacho #Shikaku #Shikaku Nara #loss #death #ino fanfic #team 10

38 notes · View notes