#fuck i made myself homesick

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#ok. ok. in less than 8hrs i have to get up and drive to the airport. and thats ya kno but im trying to b ok abt it #like im not crying and hyperventilating. ive made the drive lots of times. its just. when i have to drive anywhere it morphs into #r u ready? ur gonna cause a horrible accident destroying multiple lives in the process. r u ready? and im like no i hate that stop #so that makes it hard. and im not a bad driver. it just terrifies me thst i space out and become non reactive. like thsts not good. be #reactive pls. i just hate it. and this means i also have to drive back as well. while probably horribly jet lagged #bleh. itll b fine. unless it isnt. but itll b fine. im just scared that something will happen and i wont b able to leave. i cant even b #excited abt going on vacation bc i cant think past the possibility of something preventing me from getting to ohio bc if i let myself get #excited then it wont happen. which is magical thinking nonsense but its how it feels. ugh. dont think abt it. itll be over in 24hrs 🤞 #knock on wood. idk what im gonna do while traveling tho. what am i gonna think abt? what to draw? what to plan? idk #the bad part of traveling is thst i cant take all my markers 😫 me and my 500 shitty alcohol pens lol #ill either draw a lot bc im not working or very little bc ill actually be happy for a while #oh god. my boss just sent an email. i wanna ignore it. let me rest. #bleh. last time i flew home i wanted to cry when i landed lol. well see if that happens again #i feel like i was more depressed then but im more fucked up now. but like im also more functional. well. sorta #ugh. i should finish packing #unrelated #its so funny to me when i get homesick like lol bitch u wanna go back to ohio????

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "can you do one where y/n likes Colby and he likes her but they don't really do anything about it but flirt until they're at the spot and a ghost/demon thing (you can completely make up the scenario), torments and targets y/n to the point she's crying and runs out with Colby chasing after her? Pleaseeeee"

Warning: This one shot will start out kinda funny and flirty between reader and Colby, but it will get dark and contain the reader being targeted by the spirits and some actions include; being touched, pushed, choked, scratched, spoken to, and other things some readers might find a bit creepy. There will also be mentions of murder at the place of exploration and other bad things some readers may be triggered by.

Read with care my lovelies!

Word count: 10.3k

Disclaimer: I completely made this story up!

"We're going to explore the Hellriegel Manor in a few days.. you in?" Colby says on the other end of the phone. You smile to yourself and sigh, "I suppose I can make time in my very busy schedule for you."

You are always up for doing a video with them, even hanging out with them off camera. You've known them for a while, so sleeping over at their place or in the same tent while in the middle of some haunted woods wasn't that big of a deal, or so you thought.

"You better, y/l/n. We need you on this one." Colby chuckles to myself, "Plus, we kinda miss you out here."

You liked Colby, a lot actually. Sam is always teasing you guys, mainly because he knows he likes you too, but you both always shoot it down for stupid reasons.

You thought that maybe it would be best if you just kept him as a close friend, but the light flirting and how comfortable you are with each other makes it incredibly hard, not to mention, you and Colby are always thinking about each other though, especially when you crash at their place, and when you're asleep in a tent within in an arms reach away from each other.

You laugh as you hear Sam in the background yelling, "Don't let him lie to you y/n. He's been crying like a baby every night since you've been gone."

Point proven.

"Shut up, dude, my god. She can hear you." Coby says with a groan and you can tell that he's getting shy, "Fuck." You picture his big smile as you grab your laptop, listening to them bicker back and forth like usual.

You had to admit, you missed them, too. Even though you're visiting your family on the east coast, you honestly felt homesick.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow." You bite your lip, waiting for a response but it's quiet, "Um, hello?"

You hear muffled yelling, and you already know that it's Colby trying to get Sam to keep his mouth shut, "That's great, y/n! See you tomorrow!" Colby yells over Sam trying to yell out.

"Stop it. Please." You can hear Colby laugh, and Sam yells, still slightly muffled, "Bye!"

You hang up and shake your head laughing as you click open a new tab and type in the place Colby said you're going.

"Hellriegel Manor." You repeat to out loud after reading one do the old newspaper headlines. You scroll down as your eyes scan over the screen,

Multiple prostitutes brutally murdered in Hellriegel Manor

Callum Hellriegel is the devil himself

The ruthless murder of Hellriegel Manor revealed

Callum Hellriegel, killer found dead by self inflicted gunshot wound to head

The town thinks workers at the manor were involved

You blink a few times, shaking your head as you let out a sigh. You reach for your phone and FaceTime Colby.

He picks up fast, "Hey."

"So a possible demon. That's nice." You look into the camera and tilt your head. He takes a deep breath and lets out a long sigh, "I was trying to wait until you got here to tell you, but I guess cats out of the bag."

You nod, "Yeah, yeah." You laugh slightly and squint, "Oh no." Colby looks behind him then back to you, "What?"

"It's quiet... did you finally kill Sam?" You smile slowly and he laughs, "No, no. He's upstairs editing."

"So I called at the right time then, huh?" You tease and he nods with a smile, "Yeah, yeah, you did."

You move back onto your bed, continuing to look up the manor, "Colby."

"Yes?" He asks staring at you through his phone, but he looks away when you look, "This place looks fucking creepy, and it sounds even worse."

You know what he's about right say next, so you cut him off by speaking, "I'm still going." You bite your lip as you read, "I think with having a girl there, it might help us figure out what really happened."

He nods, "I was taking to Sam about that, too, actually. It also might be the worse because of how bad that Callum dude is made out to be."

"Yeah, but.." You nod slowly as you read more, and your eyes widen, "Colby."

"Y/n."

"Do you know what Hellriegel means?" Your eyes move over to your phone that's propped up against your computer screen and he shakes his head, "Probably something not good."

"It means the Devil, in German." You swallow slowly, "Fuck I have the chills now."

"Again.. if you do-"

"I'm going." You smirk, "My flight is already booked and.." just as you were about to say something really sweet, you hear Colby groan and Sam appears on the screen, "Ayo!"

You laugh and wave, "Hi again Sam."

"She's looking up Hellriegel Manor." Colby looks up at him and he sighs, "Does that mean you cancelled your flight?"

You scoff, "Please. Do you not have any faith in me, Golbach?" He smirks and rolls his eyes, "You right. Plus you'll have this guys, Mr intimidator here, to protect you." He grabs Colby's shoulders and shakes him slightly.

Colby's face is turning red, but so were your cheeks. You had to admit, it's getting a lot harder for you to resist each other, especially when he is making sure you're okay in the middle of an investigation.

He was and is the one you run to when you're jumping out of your skin scared.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. I gotta go tell my parents that I'm leaving tomorrow." You pick up your phone and set your laptop down before you get up.

"Text us your landing time and we'll be here." Sam says and you give him a thumbs up. He walks away and Colby points the phone back to him, "Tell them we said hey and I'll see you tomorrow."

You smile and nod, "I will, and I'll see you tomorrow."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You couldn't stop thinking about what Colby said, about this possibly being a bad idea about you going, but you never turned away an adventure with Sam and Colby.

You're not going to start now.

As you walk through the airport, you hear your name being called. You jump slightly and turn, seeing Sam and Colby walking up to you.

"How was your flight?" Sam asks bringing you in for a hug. You hug him back, "It was alright, boring but alright." You look over at Colby who can't wait to have you in his arms, as you lean back from Sam.

"Glad you made it here safe." Colby wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. You close your eyes, happy to be back with them until Sam clears his throat, "Maybe get a room or something?"

"Dude." Colby says loosening his arms from your waist as he turns to him trying not to laugh. You roll your eyes, "You'll never quit will you?"

He shrugs and holds his hands up, "Maybe if you guys would just admit that you like each other.."

"Oh my god." You try to hide your smile, but ayour cheeks regaining that blush of pink like normal doesn't help matters at all, "Can we just go please? I'm hungry."

Colby laughs slightly and wheels your suitcase behind him, "Yes. Please." He glares over at Sam who can't help but smirk at him.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Back at the house, they give you the rundown on what they know about Hellriegel.

"So as you already know, Callum Hellriegel was a very.." Sam trials off as he tilts his head and you raise your eyebrows, "Devil of a man?"

Sam nods, "Exactly."

Colby speaks up, "There's been a mix of good and bad investigations, so it's really hard to tell what exactly we'll be dealing with."

You nod, "Hmm. Well I mean, if it gets too bad we can always high tail it out of there."

Colby nods, "Yeah, exactly. did you read up on anything else after our call or no?" You shake your head, "Since you said you wanted to fill me in, I figured I'd wait. Hear what you have to say." You smirk slightly and he nods.

"How nice of you." Sam says laughing, "But on a serious note guys.." he looks to Colby and back at you, "we truly have no idea what we're going to walk into."

"That's the exciting part though, right?" You shrug and smile, trying to stay positive because you were actually shitting your pants about going to this place.

"Bingo." Sam points and looks at his phone when it goes off, "That's the owner of the manor.." he answers, "Hello?"

You and Colby exchange smiles as you look back to Sam who is nodding, "Alright sick, yeah thank you." He hangs up and looks between you and Sam, "Tomorrow night."

You're kinda shocked but then again, kinda not surprised that it's happening this soon, "Oh great."

"What? Getting scared are we?" Sam teases and you side eye him, "Where is your faith in me, Sam? We talked about this." You laugh and he shakes his head, "I honestly didn't expect him to let us in that easy. It's always been a fight for other investigators to go there."

You smile, "You guys are changing the world, how could they not?"

"You're a part of this team too, y/n.." Colby smiles and looks from you to Sam, "So we are changing the world." He looks back to you, "You sure you're up for this?"

"I'm sure."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

It wasn't until two am when you stared up at the ceiling, wondering if you really are sure about this. The more you thought about it the more it scared you but this is what you do, you remind yourself over and over again.

This is what you do.

Luckily, this isn't the first time you've been in this situation, and each time you are, both Sam and Colby make sure you're okay, along with each other of course.

You let out a sigh, rolling over to face the tv and your phone lights up. You reach out, grabbing it to pull back over to you and you see it's a message from Colby, I know you're nervous about this place and honestly.. we are too, but if things do turn bad, we'll get out of there.

You turn onto your back and a smile rests on your lips and your thumbs quickly tap the keyboard on your screen, I was actually needing that reassurance right now. I can't sleep because I am very nervous about tomorrow, but we've probably been through worse, right?

As you're waiting for a reply, you see a twitter notification pop up at the top of your screen and you laugh slightly, "Fucking Sam."

You click on the notification,

@/SamGolbach: New video popping up soon! @/Colbybrock, @/yourtwittername, and myself are going to be spending the night in the Hellriegel Manor. Stay tuned!!

You like the tweet and retweet it with a bunch of nervous face emojis and Colby instantly likes it.

You click on your group chat with both Sam and Colby, So we're all just up huh?

Sam texts back, Um, no. Only losers who won't confess their love for each other are awake at 2 in the morning

Same texts back again, talking about you Brock

Colby sends you a text separately then replies into the group chat, I'm not up what are you talking about?

You laugh as you type, bring the party down here, I'm kinda freaking myself out

Sam instantly replies, Take it to Colby's room

"Sam!" You hear Colby yell from upstairs and then a door opens, "Only trying to help." Sam says as he comes down the stairs, a shirtless Colby behind him, "Only making it worse, brother."

You sit up, looking back at them, "Can you turn the light on, please?"

Colby nods, flipping the light on and Sam instantly yells, "Oh my god, behind you."

You jump up off the couch, running backwards towards them and you push Sam when you turn to him, "Asshole."

"That wasn't cool, man." Colby shakes his head at Sam and you look up at Colby, "You can laugh." He fights it, and shakes his head, "No.. no.. it's alright."

You roll your eyes and make your way back to the couch, turning on a YouTube video about the manor, "Let's learn all we can shall we?"

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You don't even know when you fell asleep, you just know that when you woke up, you weren't alone. You look up at a still sleeping Colby, smiling slightly as you listen to him snore softly.

Your attention is ripped away when you hear Sam coming down the steps carrying his backpack, "Mornin' sleepy heads.. or head.. I'll let you wake the beast."

You smirk and shake your head, looking back at Colby, staring at him for a few seconds before tapping his chest, "Hey, Colbs."

He doesn't budge so you tap harder and lean in, "Colby." He jumps slightly and looks at you with an immediate smile taking over his face, "oh hey." He stretches his arm slightly, "What time is it?"

You tilt your head back, "Sam what time is it?"

"Almost time to leave."

"That doesn't give me a-"

"It's nine." He smirks when you look at him, raising his eyebrows as he motions to you and Colby, making a heart with his hands. You wave him off and look back at Colby, "It's nine."

He sighs and sits up, "Okay. So we have an hour until Sam wants to leave."

"You know me so well." Sam says walking over and grabbing stuff off the coffee table. You tilt your head, "More like you drilled it into our heads repeatedly last night."

He mocks you before sighing, "Do you have to fight me on everything?"

You stand up and stretch, "Would I be one of your friend if I didn't?"

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After getting everything around, you finally make your way to the car.

"I figured we could film the intro once we got there?" Sam says playing around with the camera. Colby nods, "Works for me."

You lean back in the seat, clicking on the message Colby sent you before they came downstairs last night, I really didn't expect you to be awake so this is awkward, but you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, right? And I don't just mean that with the ghost hunting.

You smile to yourself, but snap out of it when Sam starts talking and you know he's recording, "We are on our way to Hellriegel Manor, we just left a little bit ago so we should be there in like two hours or so. How are you guys feeling?"

He turns the camera to Colby, "Colby. How are we feeling, buddy?"

Colby shrugs and laughs, "I am ready to try and get answers on whether this is truly a demon or not."

Sam turns the camera back to you, "Y/n. You shaking in your boots back there?"

"No but I will be once we hit that final stretch towards it." You laugh, "I'm excited."

Sam turns the camera around so it's on all of you, "We will keep you guys updated along the way. So far it'll be driving but you guys, luckily get to skip that part." He cuts the camera off and you can't help but laugh.

"What?" Sam asks turning and Colby laughs with you, "I'm laughing because she's laughing."

You sigh, "I don't even know why I'm laughing. I think I'm nervous now."

"Well, we can drop you off here. It's not a long walk back." Sam teases and you know he can feel your glare through the back of his seat, Colby's too.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding." Sam laughs and it's pretty much just joking back and forth the whole way there because let's face it, you were scared to go there and you were all worried about each other.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Sam clicks the camera on as you drive through the rusted old gate, "We have arrived at our destination." He points the camera to Colby and he gives a big smile as he laughs, "I think I just shit my pants. This place is fucking creepy even in the day time, man." He leans forward, looking at the huge, visibly old house.

"Look at those pillars." Sam says with a sigh, "I have a feeling we underestimated this guys."

You nod, "Mhm." Sam puts the camera on you as Colby parks the car and you purse your lips together, "I just got cold."

Both of them turn back to look at you, "Really?" Colby asks and looks at Sam, "That's not good."

Sam turns the camera around and makes a face, "We literally just pulled up and already one of us is feeling something. If that doesn't say anything about this place.."

"You guys didn't feel that? I mean maybe it was a freak thing, but as soon as we went through the gate, I felt something and then the closer we got to the house I got a chill."

"Wow." Sam is shocked, "Alright, well on that note, we'll see you guys in a second." He ends it and turns back to you, "Are you good?"

You nod, "Yeah, yeah. I'm good." Colby looks back at you, giving you an are you actually look and you nod again, "Let's go."

As you get out of the car, Sam starts rolling again, "Alright guys, we are here at the Hellriegel Manor." He shows the old building, "This place is just.. I don't know."

"I'll tell you what it is, insane." Colby says while straining his voice as he leans into the camera.

You knew tonight wasn't going to be a good night, for you at least. You have continuously felt energy since the moment you crossed through the gate, and some of it wasn't good.

"Y/n?" Colby says walking over to you, "You good? You just like zoned out for a minute there."

You blink a few times and look up at him, "We might not be spending the whole night here."

Sam moves up to you, "Really? Why do you-"

"Something just moved in that very top-right window." You point and Sam moves the camera up to it, "Shit, are you serious? Colby did you see that?"

Colby shakes his head, "Shit. No."

"You Sam and Colby?" An older guy who's followed by two more guys, yells out.

"Hey, yes sir.." Colby says walking over and you and Sam follow him, "I'm Colby, this is Sam, and y/n."

You all shake hands and the guy sighs, "I'm Dean, these are my two sons, Riley and Luke. What all have you heard about this place?"

"Callum Hellreigel is a big name attached to this place, right? He was the one who caused all of the prostitutes to go missing?" Sam asks as he hands the camera to Colby.

Dean nods, "Yeah, in or around 1927, it was rumored that the reason he was killing these women, was for sacrifices, but people who have worked in the house swore up and down he didn't but who knows.." as Dean goes on explaining more about the manor, you suddenly feel a wave of dizziness was over you and you close your eye.

"No shit." Colby nods, "Do you know why he was doing that or .. anything?"

"Whoa. Hey, y/n." Sam moves to your other side and taps your arm, "You with us?"

You slowly open your eyes, "He doesn't like us talking about him." You can tell everyone around you tenses, "Sam once you said his name, I got dizzy."

"He likes you." Dean says wagging his finger at you, "He always likes the pretty ones."

Colby shifts towards you and you look over at him. He hands the camera to Sam and looks back up at Dean who sighs, "You might have the best of luck tonight, y/n."

"Great." You laugh slightly, "We also heard that it's hit or miss with how good or bad it can be."

Dean nods, "Oh yeah. Very much so. We've had people come in who didn't get anything but a few knocks and we've had people who were so overwhelmed within two hours they had to leave."

"That's crazy, dude." Sam says and looks at you and Colby. Colby shakes his head and laughs slightly, "Well we mean no harm, we just want to try and figure out if those old news articles were right."

"There's another figure in the window." You point to the same window and they all look up but it disappears.

"Are you talking about the far window on the right?" Dean slowly turns towards you and you nod, "Mhm."

He nods, "That's where his room is."

"Am I seeing him?" Your heart starts to race and Dean shrugs, "Very well could be." He nods towards the house, "Come on, we'll give you the tour."

"Are you okay?" Colby asks holding onto your arm. You nod, "This is going to be a very good video for you guys.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"You know. During the day it's not as scary." Sam says with a nervous laugh, "Right?"

One of Dean's sons laughs, "Wait for sundown."

"I don't wanna wait for sun down.. sun please stay up." Sam laughs along with the rest of you.

"Now this room is the room where he held about five woman at a time. They'd come in here and basically wait for their turn with Callum." Dean opens the door and you guys walk into a small room, "There was always a guard, or whatever you want to call them, in here with them at all times."

"Oh wow." You shake your head, "This is.." you look around, "They were scared." Right after you say that, there's a thud and you all look towards the door.

"that sounded like it came from downstairs." Sam whispers, and soon after there's another thud, but closer. Colby walks over and looks, "There's no one out here dude. That was so loud, though."

"I'd say they were more than scared, sweetheart." Dean walks over and lifts up the loose wallpaper, revealing names that were scratched into the wall behind it, "Even the guards would mistreat the women who were held here."

"And he never got caught? How many years did he do this for?" Colby asks slightly confused, "like no one ever thought of check on the missing women from the town that's right down over the hill?" He laughs and looks at Sam who nods, "Right like you'd think that."

As they talk, you think for few moments quietly before tilting your head, "When we walk in, I could have swore I heard a whisper and now that I see this.." you walk over and bend down, "It was definitely Izzie."

"No fucking way." Sam says and walks over, showing the wall to the camera, "so like right when you walked in it was like bam someone whispering Izzie?"

You stand up and look at him, "I swear to god. I thought maybe I brushed against something like my jacket did.." you scratch your jacket off the wall, "but no. It was clearly a whisper."

"Oh my god." Colby says dragging it out slightly, "This is crazy."

"There's two more rooms you need to see, one of them being the basement." Dean motions for you guys to follow him and you make your way to the master bedroom.

"So this is where he stayed most of the time?" Sam asks, "With these prostitutes or whatever?"

Dean nods, "Yep, yeah he basically lived in here and right.." he pauses and walks over to the window and points on the ground, "..over here. Is where he shot himself."

"So wait.." you point to the window and walk over, looking out with a gasp, "oh my god." You look out at the spot you stood in when you seen the apparition in the window.

"Correct." Dean says and turns, "He would bring the women in here one at a time, do what he promised them lots of money to do and then they'd just never leave."

"That's dark, man. Sad too." Colby frowns and shakes his head. Dean nods, "So the other girls caught on pretty quick as to what was happening."

"I can't imagine the fear that was brought onto them as they waited to just die basically." Sam looks around amd Dean points to you, "If you want to try contacting him. You'll probably have the best luck. Lay on the bed if you feel brave enough."

Your heart sinks, "Oh shit, I don't think-" you look at the door quickly, but whatever was there vanishes, "the door way. Someone is watching us."

You walk over, looking out but nothing else is there. You turn back towards them, camera on you, "It's really cold right here."

"You're the first to honestly say they saw something in this room." Dean says and you raise your eyebrows, "Really?"

"Does he move around a lot or does he mainly stay in this room?" Colby asks but jumps when there's footsteps in the hallway. You lean back and shake your head, "Nothing."

"I've had people come in and say there's many, many spirits here." Dean points, "but the one I get feedback on most on the time is the basement. Lots say it's the worst, and I'll show you why." He motions for you to follow him.

Sam cuts the camera off, "I think you may be right, y/n." You walk with him and Colby as you follow the others, "We definitely underestimated this place." You look between them and walks down the steps.

As you approach the slightly skinny basement door, Sam starts recording as Dean turns to you, "You might not like it down here." He looks the door and he reveals a, very unsettling, dark stair well.

You turn and give the camera a fake crying face, "Oh no."

"There are no lights, we did put lights in, but they must not like them, so you have to use flashlights so be careful coming down." Dean says and everyone pulls their phones out and switches the flash on.

Dean and his sons go down first and you and the boys follow, "Hold on, I just want to see how dark it is." Sam switches off the light and everyone covers their lights, "Oh fucking hell."

You immediately grab onto Colby's jacket and his hand immediately goes to the side of your leg, both keeping a hold of each other until Sam turns the light back on. Colby laughs, "that's the, you can't see your hand in front of your face dark."

"Now, keep that in mind because down here.." Dean pauses, "They only had candles for light down here I'm pretty sure.."

You reach the bottom and your heart feels like it's working overtime. You feel dizzy, grabbing onto the first thing you could, Colby's arm, to not fall back.

"Whoa." He wraps an arm around your waist and you nod, "Dean.. let me tell you something.." you laugh slightly and point at him.

He nods, "You don't like it down here do you?" You shake your head, "Not at all." Your eyes scan over what you can see of the old jail cells.

You felt pain and sadness, and just flat out awful.

"Down here, they kept at least twenty more women at a time, five to a cell." Riley points, "Right above the last cell over there, is where the five upstairs were, so that cell you could hear almost everything, because there's a vent, for whatever reason."

"Did they make that vent so they could hear the screams and shit on purpose or?" Sam asks looking over towards the cell.

Dean nods, "I mean, it's very possible because it's literally just a straight shot, so. I wouldn't have put it past him, he was-"

A bottle rolls down the steps and you close your eyes, "No, no, no." You laugh nervously, "There's no fucking way."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Sam turns to Colby, "We didn't even start the investigation yet and a fucking bottle.. rolls down the steps?"

Colby's eyes are wide and his mouth is open, "Did you catch that?" Sam nods, "then sound and then maybe the end of it coming down." He sighs, "Oh what the hell did we get ourselves into?"

"I don't know but I'm scared." You admit, "This isn't going to be easy." You say into the camera and Colby crosses his arms, "What would they do down here exactly? To these women that were just held here waiting?"

Dean shrugs, "All of it.. and right over there around the wall of the stairs." He points and walks you guys over, "He had the women who, in the words of what I read and was told, couldn't please him like he wanted, tortured for hours on hours I guess."

"What did they do with the bodies? Do you know if they buried them or.." Sam asks and Dean shifts around slightly, "I just got a chill, but um.."

"Wait you just got a chill?" Colby steps forward, "It doesn't feel any different to me so that's creepy."

Dean chuckles, "Yeah, so anyway.. it was rumored they tried to cremate them theirselves, but I don't think it worked out, but when we were trying to clear some stuff out around the house, there was a well that was discovered and it had human bones in it, but no one really knows what happened to them they just vanished one day and no one asked questions."

"So there is a lot of pent up negative energy surrounding this manor." One of the guys says, but you're not focused on who. You shake your head, "Some just want to be free." You look at Sam and Colby, "Something is keeping them here and I think I know who it is."

"Oh god." Sam yells and jumps forward, spinning around really quick, "Something just grabbed my shoulder, swear to god."

"You good, man?" Colby walks up to him, and Sam nods, "Yes, yes. That just scared the shit out of me. Like I was just standing here and it felt like someone did this to me. But lightly." He demonstrates by grabbing Colby's shoulder.

"That may happen a lot more when we leave." Dean says and motions with his light to go back up.

Once you make it back outside, he turns towards the house, "Just keep reminding them why you are here and that you're the ones in control."

"Will that actually work?" Sam looks at Dean and he nods, "It'll definitely work for him." He points to Colby and you smile as you remember someone else telling Colby he's intimidating.

"I have been told that I intimidate spirits so.. that's my house now." He makes his voice strained, "No, im kidding. He laughs and Dean shakes his head, "No that's exactly it. Show you're in control and you should be fine."

"Should be, that's not too selling there, Dean." Sam says and looks at Colby. He shrugs, "I mean, it works for me."

"Well, good luck and if you're still here, I'll see you in the morning."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After getting the equipment from the car and talking for a little bit, it's almost dark so the three of you agree it's best to just start since you were already getting so much activity already.

"You good?" Colby asks as he sets up some stuff, getting it ready. You look up, "Yeah." You let out breathy laugh, "I'm nervous, but otherwise good."

"Oh shit." You hear Sam yell from outside, "No fucking way." You and Colby look at each other and run out, "What? what?" Colby asks going over to him.

You follow behind and he points, "I think I saw what you saw earlier, y/n. I turned the camera on but by the time I looked up, it was gone."

"Yeah, like it only wants you to see it, if it lets you." You run your hands over your face, "Okay so I think we should try and get something before we're basically chased out of here."

You come to regret saying those words, later on.

"Okay, yeah. So the living room area? See if we can get in touch with someone who worked here?" Colby says and Sam nods, "Let's do it."

As you walk up to the door, you turn around and look at Colby, "Did you just whistle?" He shakes his head, "No that wasn't me, was it you?" He points to Sam and he shakes his head, "No."

"There's a light whistle, but it sounded like it was right behind me." You close your eyes and shake your head, "Oh god."

"It's alright. Come on." Colby leads you into the living area and you stand over to the coffee table and set down the EMF, waiting for Sam and Colby to come in.

"Okay. Ill put a flashlight on the mantle here and-"

A loud knock cuts Sam off, "Did you hear that?" His eyes move between you and Colby and you both nod. He lets out a sigh, "Alright."

He starts rolling, "So we are here in the living room area of the Hellriegel Manor, and we've been hearing knocks.."

"A bottle rolled down the basement stairs, this place is absolutely insane already, but now we're here and we're going to start by asking some simple questions." Colby takes the camera from Sam so he can lay a flashlight on the mantle like he said, "We have just a regular flashlight here and then we have the EMF over there by y/n."

You switch it on and move away from it, "Do you want me to start?"

Immediately both the flashlight and the EMF lights up green. Sam and Colby both yell out, "Oh fuck dude."

You freeze, "Um. Okay. My name is y/n. I come with peace and just wanting to find out the truth about what happened here. Is there just one of you talking to us right now?"

You wait a few moments and as soon as you look at Colby it lights up red and the flashlight switches off.

Your eyes go wide as you look at Sam. His eyes search the floor as he thinks, "My name is Sam, I too come with peace, I just want to ask, are you trapped here?"

Colby moves the camera from the EMF to the flashlight, "Y/n. Repeat what Sam asked."

"Are you trapped here?" You ask and it's an immediate green light, no flashlight, "Am I speaking to one person now?"

Red light. Flashlight turns on making all of you gasp and yell. Colby shakes his head, "Dean was right, they must be drawn to her more than us."

Switches green and the flashlight stays on.

"That wasn't even a ques-" something falling from a shelf makes you jump and you bolt in between them, "Oh Jesus Christ."

"I'm Colby. I also come with peace. Was that you that just knocked that stuff over?" A few moments go by and nothing.

"If that was you, can you do it again, please?" You grip Colby's arm, "the hairs on the back of my neck just stood up." He looks down at you, "really?" You nod and Sam brings his hand up behind you, "It's literally only cold right here."

Suddenly you're pushed away from Colby, not hard, but enough to make you lean back.

"Did you just get pushed?" Colby asks, "You pulled me with you tha-"

What sounds like empty tin cans, hit the floor and roll, stopping in the entry way of the living room.

"Thank you." You say, "Am I speaking to the original owner of this house?" You let go of Colby and walk over to the doorway.

"Y/n, stay close please. This house is too un-" Colby gets cut off by the EMF lighting up red.

"Are you saying no to y/n's question?" Sam asks quickly and it flashes red. Your eyes go wide and you make your way back over to them, "Do you want me to stay close to Sam and Colby?"

Flashes red and the flash light turns on.

"Fuck me." You lay a hand on your face and the emf lifts up green.

"No." Colby says almost immediately, "You can't have her."

Flashes green and the flash light stays on.

You look at them, "I have to ask if it's him."

Flashes green again and the flash light goes off.

"Dude this is fucking wild, oh my god." Sam runs a hand through his hair, "Are you okay?" He looks at you and you nod, "Yeah, I'm good."

"I have a very important question for you." You move over and sit in the one chair, "Am I speaking to Callum Hellreigel?"

Lights up red and you feel kind of relieved until you see a shadow move on the stairs, "Fuck, the stairs. Something just went up."

"Are you going upstairs?" Colby asks and waits patiently. The EMF goes off and it's red, "Are you one of the women who were lured here and promised money?"

Lights up green.

"Is anyone else with you?" Sam asks and rests his hand against his chin.

Lights up green.

Just as Colby is getting ready to ask something you stand up, "Something just.." you point up and shake your head, "I just heard come on. Like something said come on."

"Is that you Callum? Are you trying to lure y/n up stairs?" Colby hands the camera back to Sam and looks over at you, no response.

"Okay, so they definitely move around." Sam sighs, "Fuck man. Y/n. How are you feeling?" You look over at them slowly, "Oh I'm great." You stand up, "Maybe we should move.."

"Where to next?" Sam asks and you walk over to them, "Upstairs. I don't think he killed himself."

They're both taken aback by what you said and Colby shakes his head, "Do you feel something towards that?"

You nod, "I have this.. uneasy feeling in my stomach and I get chills thinking about it. I don't think he shot himself."

The EMF reader lights up green and you jump slightly, "Fuck." Sam looks around, "Did you kill your self Callum?"

Nothing.

Colby repeats Sam's question exactly, nothing.

They both look at you, along with the camera and you take a deep breath and shake your head, "get the spirit box."

Sam stops recording, "That's a good idea. Where do you want to set up?"

Colby walks over to you and lays his hands on your arms, "You good to keep going?" You nod, "Yeah I need to find out what happened, I'm nosey." You laugh slightly and lean around to look at Sam, "Maybe top of the steps?"

He nods and you grab the equipment and look at the steps. Your eyes move up and down, getting a weird feeling about it, "Wait." You stop Sam and point to the floor at the bottom of the steps.

Colby starts recording and Sam sets it down, "let me just turn it on." He turns it on and a soft white noise fills the area.

Sam motions to you and you bite your lip, debating on which question to ask.

".. Up .."

"Yo, no." Sam covers his mouth and Colby laughs nervously, "No fucking way."

"Do you want us to go up the stairs?" You ask and chew on your nail.

".. Wall .. name.."

"Are you asking about the names on the wall in the room where the women were held?" Colby asks, "Did you whisper Izzie to y/n when we went in there earlier?"

A soft, 'y/n' is whispered behind you and you let out a slight yell, "Fuck, no. Someone just said my name."

"..Yes.."

"Callum was that you?" You close your eyes and shake it, letting out quiet, high toned "oh shit."

"Bed."

"Do you want us to go to the bedroom? Callum's room?" Colby asks rubbing his eyebrow and pulls you to him when you all clear as day hear,

"Just... her.."

"You can't have her." Sam says looking around, "You can't have any one anymore, do you hear me?"

".. Blood.. shed .."

"Doesn't mean blood shed, like bleeding or?" Colby asks Sam and he shakes his head, "I don't know, man."

"So scared."

"I know you're scared." You say and nothing else comes through.

"Why do you want y/n?" Colby asks moving the camera around, "Are you scared of us? I promise we mean no harm to any of you."

".. Pretty... girl .."

"do you guys feel okay?" You fan yourself, "I just got really hot all of a sudden." Colby hands the camera to Sam and feels your forehead, "You feel cold to me."

You're suddenly pushed backwards away from Colby's touch, "Fuck." He says pulling you over to Sam. He turns from recording the stairs, "What happened? What?"

Colby sighs, "She just got pushed again, dude."

"Maybe we should just go up." You close your eyes as Colby instantly disagrees, "Mm. No."

Sam cuts the camera off, "Colby. If she thinks she can-"

"We don't know what we're dealing with here, Sam. I'm not going to send her into a room alone." Colby argues.

".. Stop .."

"Stop what?" You ask and Sam turns the camera on, "So.. Colby felt y/n's head because she said she was hot and when he did that, y/n got pu-" a loud thud is heard from up stairs and Sam quickly turns the spirit box off and turns the camera to you guys, "Did you hear that?"

You nod, "Almost like.. a body falling onto the floor."

"That's what I was thinking." Coby says nodding.

Sam waits a few seconds more before picking up where he left off in a whisper, "So basically, whatever is here doesn't like us being close to y/n."

"Dean did say that she might be the target for tonight, just because of all the history with this place." Colby says.

"I think we should just do it because it's either his room or the basement and I'll tell you right now I'm not ready to go back down there yet." You chew on your cheek, "So let's just go up there and hit those rooms up there."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

There was a sudden decrease in activity in the other rooms but it quickly picked up when you moved back towards the bedroom.

"I think we should put the REM pod where Dean said he was shot." Sam suggests and you nod, "Yeah. That's good."

You have this feelings that something is watching you, and no it's not just Colby.

"Sam." Colby says, "You don't think.."

Sam stands up after checking the pod, "What?" Colby nods towards me, lowing his voice, "You don't think he's.. targeting her because of me do you?"

Sam glances at you and shrugs, "So you're admitting to liking her then?"

Colby sighs, "Yes, Sam. I'm admitting to it finally." He smiles but shakes his head, "That's not the point, how are we going to do this without any danger coming to her?"

"Why don't we just ask him?" You step forward, "You can be right outside the door."

Colby shakes his head, "No."

There's a loud bang and you jump, "Colbs. I got this. If anything happens, you'll be right outside." Sam starts rolling the camera, "So we are now in the room where Callum supposedly shot himself and y/n has decided to lay in Callum Hellreigel's very own bed. Alone."

Sam turns the camera to you, "How are you feeling?" You take a deep breath, "it is what it is right?" You shrug, but Colby didn't like that answer.

"I'll be fine." You hold two thumbs up and Sam points the camera at Colby, "Wanna tell them what we're doing?"

Colby clears his throat as he holds up the EMF, "We are going to set up y/n with the EMF as well, and she'll ask yes or no questions and hopefully we can get some answers.."

"Then we'll come back in after a little while and set up the spirit box, maybe catch something on that? I don't know how you guys feel about that.." Sam trails off and you nod, "Sounds good."

Colby's whole demeanor changed since you said you'll stay in the room by yourself. You keep looking at him, and he looks at you, but he has worry in his eyes.

"Alight so we're just going to put this in the corner here.." Sam says as he sets up the camera on the one stand, angled towards the bed and window.

Colby walks up to you, cupping your cheeks, "Anything, and I mean anything happens, yell, scream and we'll be here."

You nod, laying a hand on his, "I can handle this." You jump and Sam yells as something falls outside of the room, "What the fuck. That sounded like something massive."

"Shit." Colby says taking his hands away, "Sorry. Sorry." He holds his hands up and steps back from you. Your eyes move around the room as you make your way over to the bed, sitting criss cross, "See you soon."

"You're sure?" Sam asks one last time. You take a deep breath, "Yes." Colby's eyes are on you until Sam fully shuts the door, leaving you in the darkened silence, alone.

"Callum Hellriegel." You call out, "If you're here, can you go over and touch that little box that's on the floor for me?"

The red light flashes, indicating no on the EMF.

"Am I talking to someone else?" Your eyes scan around the room, taking slow deep breathes as you try to get used to the dark, no answer, "I should’ve stayed home." You joke quietly to yourself,  "Is this where you wanted me?"

Instant green light.

You chew on your cheek as a chill washes over your body, "Fuck." You rest your hands on your head, "Did you kill all those women, Callum?"

Instant green light and the REM pod goes off.

"Did you kill them because they couldn't please you?" You rest your hand on your cheek and jump slightly when the EMF goes red.

"Did you kill them beca-" The EMF flashes red over and over again, "Stop!" You say loudly and it's soon followed by a loud bang on the window.

"Holy fuck." You sigh and place a hand on your chest, "Do you want us to bring the spirit box in so you can talk?"

Instant green light.

"Callum Hellreigel.. did you kill your self?" Your eyes move from the REM pod to the EMF, waiting for something, "Did someone else do it?"

Instant green light.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Okay, okay. Was it someone who worked for you?"

Instant red light.

"Was it one of the prostitutes?"

Instant green light.

"Is there anyone else here?"

Instant green light and you suddenly feel like you're being choked. You try to yell out as loud as you can, "C-Colby!" You feel the pressure on your neck vanish and you start coughing as soon as the boys bust through the door.

Colby is right next to you, "What? What? Y/n. Talk to me."

You're gasping for air still as you try to comprehend what just happened.

Sam brings the camera over, almost dropping it when he sees the finger marks on your neck.

"Holy fuck- Colby." Sam moves your hair to show the camera, "Oh my god. Are you okay? Oh fuck."

Colby's eyes are glued to your neck, "Can you breathe? Are you okay?"

"I-I.." you clear your throat, rubbing your hand over the prints, "I believe.. I was talking to Callum, and then I asked if anyone else was here and it went to yes and then i just suddenly felt like I was being choked."

"What the fuck, okay let's just get out of this room, I don't.." Sam sighs and shakes his head, "I don't like this."

As you're gathering the equipment and getting ready to walk out, you're pushed into Sam causing him to stumble a step forward, "That wasn't me." You say quickly as he turns around, "are you okay?"

Colby shuts the door with a slam and sighs, "This is fucking insane.. I can't believe this happened."

"Did you hear that?" You look down the steps, "Something just moved into the living room."

Sam points the camera, the light shining down and there's nothing there, "What the fuck, what the fuck?!"

"Shh. Shh." You shush Sam and look around, "I thought I heard whispering."

Colby lays a hand on your back, "Let's go outside, talk about what happened and then we can figure out what we wanna do."

Colby was just worried about getting you out without anymore damage.

You make your way outside, camera still rolling, bending down to the ground, "Oh my god."

"Okay. So y/n.. she got attacked basically and we're trying to figure out why. She's okay. She's okay.. it's just.. " Sam keeps the camera off of you until you stand back up, "Fuck."

"So." You walk over to them, using your hand to hide your neck from the camera, "As soon as you guys left, it was.. weird, it was fucking weird." You laugh slightly and shake your head, "I asked if it was him. Said no. Then I asked if it was someone else, no answer and then I asked if I was where they wanted me and that was an instant green light."

"What if.. what if it's not Callum?" Colby looks between you and Sam and Sam gasps, "One of the women?"

You hold your hand up, "Oh just wait. So then I asked if he killed all those women. Instant green light. I then asked if it was because they couldn't please him and it said no."

"Wait, y/n.. Did you tell stop at one point?" Sam asks and you nod, "The red light kept flashing over and over, so then I told it to stop and then it sounded like something hit the window. Hard. It was loud."

"Wait what?" Colby looks to Sam, "Did you hear anything?" Sam shakes his head, "I thought I heard her yell stop but it was much quieter than she says she yelled."

"Do you think.. wait.." Colby looks at you, "Izzie. That's what was whispered to you right?" You nod and he shrugs, "What if she killed him?"

"That's actually something that very well could have happened.. He favorited her maybe and she developed this jealously? Oh my god, the story just keeps unraveling." Sam points the camera back to you and you continue, "I asked if they wanted us to bring the sprit box in and it said yes. It also said yes to me asking if someone else killed him.." you look between them, "..and to if it was one of the prositutes."

"Yo, no. Are you fucking serious!?" Sam's mouth drops, "Is said yes to that?"

You nod, "Sure did."

"Izzie probably is intimidated by you." Colby says, "I think we have this all wrong." You run your hand over your head, "Mhm. But it was like not even a second after the light went green I felt this pressure around my neck and I couldn't move. I wasn't even sure if you guys heard me calling."

"I heard you scream Colby, a lot louder than when you yelled stop." Sam shakes his head, "If I would have known we would have came in.." he looks at Colby, "They said about the spirit box.."

Colby shakes his head and looks at you as Sam moves the camera onto you, "I think we should just take a break, give them time to settle, if they will." You suggest and Sam nods, "That's a good idea."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The whole time you guys took a break, Colby hasn't left your side as you guys discussed and agreed on what you were doing.

He found himself glancing at your neck every so often, wondering if him putting up more of a fight would have kept you safe.

"Colby.." you whisper, "Colbs." You finally get his attention, "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Not your fault. I chose to go in there." You lay a hand on his cheek, "Okay?"

He nods, not really convincing you but you go with it as Sam walks over, "Are you ready?" He looks at you and you nod, taking Colby's hand in yours, "Yeah. We're ready."

"Anything else happens and I'm throwing you over my shoulder and taking you out of there myself." He whispers low into your ear as sam walks towards the house.

You smile slightly, "Don't threaten me with a good time."

He keeps his arm around you until you reach the front door. He walks in but you stop, staring up the steps, "Sam. Don't move."

Colby looks between you, Sam and the steps, "What?" He whispers quietly and you point slightly, "There's a woman.." you raise your voice, "Izzie?"

The figure you see turns from the top of the steps and goes into Callum's room.

"We need to do the spirit box."

You make your way up to the room and Colby walks in first. Then you, then Sam. The REM pod gets put on the floor, and turned on. Sam backs away from it and you take a deep breath.

"We mean no harm to anyone that is here." You say and look around, "Izzie. If you were the one that choked me, can you touch that box on the floor over by the window?"

You close your eyes as soon as it lights up.

"Fucking shit dude." Sam says pointing the camera to you. You open your eyes and step towards the bed, "Did you get jealous of the other girls? Make that light up for me if you were."

You look over at Sam and Colby, who are whispering stuff to each other, and back to the pod as it lights up.

"one more time if you want us to turn on the spirit box." You run a hand through your hair and turn back to them as it lights up a few times in a row.

Colby takes the camera and Sam grabs the box, walking over and setting it on the window sill, "You will be able to talk to us using this box here."

Colby moves over closer to you and Sam and as soon as Sam flips it on, "Why did you choke y/n?"

".. doesn't... belong.."

"She doesn't belong here in general or doesn't belong to Callum?" Colby continues and you chew on your nail as you wait patiently.

".. not.. his..."

"Can you tell us who isn't his? Are you talking about Callum?" Sam interjects, "Y/n doesn't belong to Callum."

"..Mine.. my doing.."

"Are we talking to Izzie or Callum?" You rest your hand on your cheek, "Can you please tell me who we are talking to?"

".. Colby.." 

"What the hell?" Colby groans and laughs slightly, "Can you tell me who I'm talking to?" He asks giving the camera to Sam, "I'm right here."

".. not.. yours.."

You look at Sam then go to Colby.

"..out.. out.. Izzie.."

"Did you kill Callum, Izzie?" Sam asks, "Was it you who shot him in front of the window?"

" .. y/n.. stay .."

You let out a quick scream as something grabs your arm, "No. I'm not staying. You cannot have me." The same bang on the window that happened while you were alone, happens again.

Colby aims the camera to the window, "fuck, what was th-"

".. keep her safe .."

"We are keeping her safe." Colby says as he pulls you in between him and Sam, "Do not touch her. Do not touch us."

You look around, "Shit." You jump, "Izzie. Leave."

" .. Sam .. "

"Okay no. No that's.. no.." Sam laughs nervously, "Do you want us to leave?"

" .. Colby ... and Sam .. "

"Alright we're done." Colby hands the camera back to Sam and turns off the box, "I don't think Callum is a demon. I think Izzie has some jealousy to figure out and she won't be doing that with you." He looks at you and you nod, "Fine."

"That was fucking insane, dude. What the actual fuck was that?" Sam shakes his head, unable to comprehend what just happened.

You hear another whisper as you turn towards the door, "did you hear that?" Sam and Colby stop talking and go quiet as they listen.

You turn towards them, "Please don't go is what I just heard.."

"We're going." Sam and Colby say in unison which makes you all kinda laugh, fear still in overdrive. You spin in a slow circle, "Whatever is in this room, this house, who ever you are, you cannot follow us out of this house. You cannot follow us home. You can not come with us."

As Sam bends down to pick up the REM, Colby lays his hand on your back but you wince and gasp, "What the fuck?"

"What?" Colby asks looking over you, "What happened?"

"Lift my shirt." You turn back around and Sam comes over with the camera, the light on top shining onto your back.

Colby slides your shirt up, "We're done. That's two fucking scratches l, Sam." He looks at Sam and you turn around, "Two?!"

As soon as you stand all the way up, you get dizzy and stumble back slightly into the wall. You suddenly feel like your emotions aren't yours anymore and you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

Flashes of a woman in a long dress and a man undressing her appear in your mind. 

She's screaming. Crying. There's two more guys, but they're standing in the corners, watching it happen.

You feel like you're seeing someone else's vision until everything goes black and you start to regain the imagine of Colby and Sam standing in front of you.

"Y/n.. hey." You hear Colby say as he shakes you gently, "Y/n. Hey where'd you go?"

Your head snaps up to him, "What?" You look around, shaking your head, "I don't.. what just.."

"You weren't you." Sam says, "You went back into the wall and then you were in a stare, Colby tried for like two minutes to get you to look up."

"We.." your chest rises and falls quickly, "I'm so scared right now." A loud thump on the wall behind you rattles the room and you high tail it out of there.

Down the steps and out the door as Sam and Colby follow you.

"Y/n. Hey, hey wait." Colby yells, "Y/n." He walks up to you and takes you into his arms. You freak out for a second until you realize it's him and you let your body fall into his.

"Is she okay?" Sam asks running up, "What the fuck just happened?"

Colby shrugs, "I have no idea. But I see why they don't just let anyone in here."

He looks down at you, arms still tightly around you, "Hey. You're okay. I got you." You tilt your head up, slowly looking back at the building.

You let out a slight laugh, "Did I.. just.. did I just get possessed or something?"

They're both looking at you worried, "I saw a woman.. screaming as a man was taking off her dress and two other men in the corners were watching.. I don't.. was that.."

"We don't have an answer for that, but what I do know is that we're getting far from this place as possible." Colby lets you go as you stand up straight.

You look at Colby and point your finger at him, "Remember what I said to you last night, about us probably having been through worse?"

Colby nods as his hands move up and down your arm.

"Well, this is worse." You laugh anxiously, tears welling up into your eyes again, "What the fuck was that?"

"We're going home. It's okay." Colby wraps his arms around you, "Sam, can you drive home?" Sam yells out a quick 'yeah' as he packs the trunk back up.

"Come on. We're going home."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Thinking of maybe doing a part 2? Not sure yet, maybe like the aftermath of the Hellriegel Manor?

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

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[sanjisluvbot]

Isekai Yandere Strawhats x Black Fem Reader Pt 4

MASTERLIST

Trigger warning: Anxiety, violence, and swearing

The pounding in your head was the first thing you noticed when regaining consciousness. Next was the sounds of cannons and bubbles, then finally the crew standing in front of you.

All of them now held a different aura, they seem to have really found themselves and hardened up into stronger more dangerous people. It was one thing to see them through a screen but to see people like this up close was making alarms go off through your head.

It’s going to be 10 times harder to escape, especially when they figure out just how to snatch you back into their world so easily.

That question is on the tip of your tongue, “ How were they able to get to me?” You remember hiding the paper where you were writing notes somewhere underneath a book shelf.

<>

While Nami worked on her maps you read through everything you’ve written, you had a good feeling about that night. Nothing would be able to stop you no matter who cries or tries to intimidate you. You were going home.

<>

While lost in your thoughts a hand was held out for you to take. Sanji stood in front of you with the brightest smile, though anger and distaste was the only emotion you could muster. His smile dropped when you pushed his hand out of your face and stood up own your own.

Their shameless starring made you want to turn away but you needed to stand your ground, this has affect your life for way too long. It started off as a dream come true, you got to hand out with your favorite characters and sail their version of the seven seas. But suddenly when one of them grabbed your hand to drag you to adventure you noticed the unshakable grip the strawhat crew possessed.

Comforting laughed turned into silent threats and the entire fiasco turned into something sinister and ugly.

“ Y/N! We missed you so much, we thought you were gone forever.” Chopper chimed running into your arms. The anger in your eyes softened a bit due to the absolute innocence of the small reindeer, it couldn’t be helped.

Adorable

“ I missed you too chopper”

“ See I knew you’d be happy to join us again, why would anyone leave their crewmates without getting homesick.” Luffy spoke walking up to you.

You glared at him and placed chopper on the ground before starting an argument you could never come back from.

“ Luffy the only reason I am here right now is because you can’t take NO for an answer!”

“ yup”

“ NO! No more bullshit don’t act dumb right know you know what I’m talking about”

The crew were all starring wide eyed, there hasn’t been a fight between the crew since water seven. After being with Luffy and the others so long you were able to read their facial expressions with ease and right now he was pissed.

The unwavering smile on your captains face was crooked, his eyes were burning you to the ground.

If only looks could kill.

“ Y/N maybe you should just settle down we’re on our way to fish man island and-” Nami reasoned.

“ ENOUGH ! I have had it— with all of you. I’m not going to sit here and explain myself again you are all smart enough to remember what I said two years ago. I am going home, MY HOME.”

“ You are home, I won’t make the mistake of letting you leave us again” Luffy boomed as he towered over you.

“ Fuck you”

A sword was thrust between you and Luffy and you both looked over to the frightened crew and the very angry swordsman. “ You both need to calm down now. There is no use in fighting knowing what we’re about to go through this deep in the ocean.”

Looking back at Luffy you mustered up all you could and spit on his cheek nearing his eye. He turned to you and pushed you to the ground, going underneath the sword and climbing on top of you. You kicked and screamed trying to throw him off you but strength was more than tripled from the last time you were together.

Your hands held up over your head as he peered down at you smile completely gone. A shiver ran down your spine from the deafening silence that eclipsed the Thousand Sunny.

“ Didn’t I tell you to rest when we got on board? I think you need that right now ”

“ Fuck. You. ”

He chuckled and released you, soon as he did you raised your arm and slapped him leaving a hot red mark across his cheek as he stumbled off of you.

“ You think Ace would be proud of you right now ”

You couldn’t breathe. The pressure of a hand on your neck didn’t leave any room for it. You knew he had a strong grip but this was like a weight of iron been cast on your neck. Zoro was looming over you while you scratched up his hand and arm begging him silently to release. When your eyes started rolling back the oxygen flooded through your lungs and you started gasping like a fish out of water.

“ Nami, Robin, take Y/N to the girls quarters for a nap we can wake her when dinner is ready”

You sobbed as the girls picked you up and took you to their room. They laid you down and covered you with a blanket before turning off the light and leaving silently.

You cried for around half an hour, the tears were now dried on your face but you still tried to concentrate on going home. You felt like you were in the Wizard Of Oz when Dorothy was clicking together her Ruby shoes hoping to go home.

It wasn’t working no matter what you did. So you laid there lazily gazing at the ceiling letting your thoughts run free till you fell asleep.

Dinner was as awkward as it could get. The entire crew starred at your every move and you were squished between the captain and his first mate. There was some conversation that you could barley hear and Sanji asked you every other minute if you were enjoying your meal.

You felt like you were viewing life from 3rd person, your vision felt like you were watching a movie and every bite you took you thought your mouth was numb and staticky, like when your foot fell asleep. It was like your brain and body were malfunctioning and you couldn’t do a thing to stop it. When you chewed you felt your teeth grind together to break down every little piece of meat and rice in your mouth. This was a panic attack. You had them before but this was even scarier, nothing made sense and you were now a robot who was programmed to look forward, be wide eyed, and eat every last inch of food on your plate.

When dinner was done everyone was doing their own things. Nami and Robin decided the best thing for right now was a lavender bubble bath with scorching hot water that irritated your skin but also calmed your nerves. The theme of the night was silence so it seemed, that was till Robin decided to speak up.

“ Y/N I know everything is frustrating right now but I know that you understand we really mean no harm.”

“ It’s not about meaning no harm. I have an entire other life outside of this world, I’m missing out on real life.”

“ This is also real life. I studied your paper you poorly hid under the book shelf in Nami’s study. What you’re doing right now is shifting and to my understanding you aren’t erased from your universe when you’re in this one. The rest of your consciousness is living your life as well, you’re like a double agent in a sense.”

The woman had eyes literally everywhere. You were sure no one would find that paper but you should’ve been smarter because now pirates from another dimension can go in an out of your world with no issue.

“ But I don’t want to be a double agent. I don’t want to live two separate lives, I want to live on my own terms just like the rest of you. That’s why you were all created in the first place and why you all joined Luffy’s crew. To be free”

“ Why do I have to be the acception?”

You all stayed in the bath till you pruned and you were finally able to get off edge. It felt like when you first arrived. The conversation strayed from the issue at hand and you were able to gossip and just be yourselves.

Tonight both beds were pushed together and you slept between Robin and Nami, they were warm and comfortable and sleep came with ease.

Though a stray thought lingered in your mind.

Would it really kill you to stay here with them?

-

A/N: Interpret this as you will 🫧🐡🗺️🫶🏽

#one piece #one piece x reader #x black fem reader #yandere one piece #yandere strawhats #luffy angst #x black reader #zoro x black reader #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #one piece oneshots #one piece strawhats

[aprito]

hi! do you have any recommendations for sasosaku fic with more than 10k words?

a couple (a lot) of the top of my head (burned into my retina) in no particular order finished and unfinished (they are all important to me)

!!! IF YOU READ ANY OF THESE BE A COOL KID AND LEAVE A REVIEW !!!

hope springs eternal by simplelations (wholesum retelling of p1 naruto but with same age au sos i have made fic art that's how you know the love is real)

incantations by thirrin (extremely underrated howl's moving castle inspired magic au)

the neighbourly thing to do by koneko_taichou (wholesome middle aged sos are neighbours au. especially love the reason ss divorced in this fic and cant wait to see where this goes)

against all odds by koobabear (unfinished but platonic canonverse sos that's very fun)

these days by stormdragon6 (the one and only extremely long and extremely fullfilling mutual pining sos childhood friends modern au. scenes from this fic are burned into my brain)

a second chance by invisibleninja12 (200k literal retelling of p2 naruto with same age au sos where sasori got yeeted into the future and sakura is committed to help him before he makes the final turn for the worse. incredibly wholesome)

deep into the woods by muffin_ride (twisted beauty and the beast meets horror meets sos in their 40s far too old for this bullshit. thats the type of content we love around here)

lost year by omgitspocky (the fic that literally started my obsession with same age au basically sakura goes back in time and not only distracts sasori from defecting but also gets to hang out with a young tsunade)

bait and hitch by aelynthi (after the fantastic previous fic homesick comes one of the funniest takes on the fake dating trope with outrageously good characterization. i am emotionally invested in this one)

acaso mi madre engaña a mi padre? by takewaelel (i recommend this cheating fic at least once every full moon cycle because it has some of my favorite characterisation ever. every reread i discover some other amazing take)

lady of the blackthorns by vesperchan (amazing fantasy sos au. and thats why vesper is the GOAT)

pyrrhic victory by watevermelon (same age au sos with sasori's parents alive is one of the three ships and we're rooting for them)

grading on a curve by sayyikes (100% pure comedy and we're here for this painfully realistic and hilarious modern au)

sword of damocles by angelofdeath10 (medieval sakura is sasori's knight au. sasori is extremely pathetic but that makes it fun. i recommend everything they write in general <3)

spring fever by tsuki hoshino (sakura quits her job with sunan royalty and is ready to settle down and have kids in the middle of sasori's 10 year meticulously planned how do i get her to date me plan. watch as he desperately tries to bring his plans to fruition in the most sasori way possible)

invocation of the muse by nenalata (toxic college au sos that ruined me as a person, it's so fucking good even if i took immense psychic damage after deluding myself sos somehow will make it work. you need to read this immediately. this is exactly how i envision a bad ending outcome)

porcelain by shoujojunkie (not 10k but i will rep this doll maker falls in love with his tiny vain selfish creation fic until the day i die)

#ask noni #fic rec #sasosaku #im sure i have more that i forgot about i will never forgive myself #if you had given me over 2k this would probably be triple in length #do you know how unfair it is to me. as a person. to not be able to recommend a bunch of my faves bc theyre shorter than 10k #im in tears #hope this keeps you busy <3

[crimson-calligraphyx]

A/N: don't hate me too much okay I'm sorry 😖

Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422

Noah

I held Liv close to me, cradling her head against my chest as my taxi pulled into the driveway, appreciating the moment for what it was. I didn't want to leave her to finish the tour, all I wanted to do was lie in bed with her in my arms.

I wanted to feel her warmth, trace her skin beneath my fingertips, and map out every curve of her body. I wanted to admire the way her small frame fit perfectly in my arms, her body melting into mine, and burn it into my mind in case—

No. I won't let that happen.

She looks up at me, her eyes heavy with repentance and melancholy. I cup her face delicately and ran my thumb across the apple of her cheek, reddened as the brisk air nipped her skin. I gave her a saddened smile, my lips pressed together as I felt my chest get tighter and tighter, knowing I had to let go of her.

I leaned down to kiss her and relished the way her lips felt against mine; soft, warm, full and comforting. They felt like home, and Christ, I was already homesick and hadn’t even left yet.

"I love you," I mumbled against her mouth after kissing her for as long as I could. "I'll see you in a couple of weeks, okay?" I watched her eyes gloss over, and she gave me a quick nod. "Okay," she whispers. She doesn't say ‘I love you’. I reluctantly release my hold on her and take a step back, my heart sinking from the lack of reciprocation.

I shouldered my bag and made my way to the taxi, halting once I reached the back door to look at her one last time. She was hugging herself and shivering, the sweater she wore not thick enough to keep her warm in the frigid December air. I could just barely make out the tremble of her lips—I wasn't sure if it was from the cold or from holding back her emotions, but I wanted so badly to run back to her and make them stop.

I sent a timid wave her way and hopped into the backseat of the cab, and as we backed out of the driveway, I could see that she was crying. Her shoulders shook with each sob, her breath ghosting across her face with every exhale.

I watched her body get smaller and smaller as we drove away, and the vice constricting around my chest only got tighter as fear encased me. I didn’t know what to expect in the near future, and that terrified me. Would I come home to her as an empty shell of who she was? To an empty home? To divorce papers laid out on the kitchen island?

These thoughts wreaked havoc in my mind, my heartbeat ricocheting loudly through my head, and I couldn’t breathe. Each inhale was excruciating, my lungs felt like they were filled with mud and simply wouldn’t expand with the air I so desperately needed. I found myself choking and pulled at my jacket, trying to take some weight off my chest so I could just fucking breathe.

I was having a panic attack. I haven’t had one in years.

I tried my best to focus on something other than the way my lungs burned with each shallow breath that I took. The radio that was set on a low volume, the way the cab driver tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel along to the beat, the soft hum of the tires rolling over the pavement. Anything, something.

The last time that I had an attack, I was with Nick, and he helped me through it with the way he always kept his composure. He obviously wasn't here, but maybe if I called him, he'd be able to talk me out of it.

And so I did, somehow managing to get my phone out through the tunnel vision I had. He pulled me out of it by the time I made it to the airport. My head was clear, but breathing was still difficult, and during the flight, I started to cough.

-

"Sheesh, what happened to you? Liv give you two black eyes or somethin'?" I rolled my eyes at Folio's remark, him pointing out how dark the bags under my eyes were. "Yeah, something like that," I muttered, brushing past him to drop my bag at my bunk.

I was exhausted, mentally and physically, having barely slept the last couple of days due to not only the coughing and newly acquired sore throat, but the apprehension of whatever the fuck was going on with Liv—I didn't even sleep soundly while with her.

Normally I would want to jump right into the next show as a way to busy my mind, but for once I was thankful that the only task of the day was traveling to the next venue. I was obviously coming down with a cold and just needed rest, and maybe a cup of tea to help soothe the pain in my throat.

I absentmindedly cleared my throat at the thought, regretting it immediately from the burn that came from doing so.

"I'll be back," I grumbled, keeping my eyes on the floor as I began to make my exit from the bus. "Wait, where are you going? We're leaving in like an hour," Folio calls after me. I glanced over my shoulder at him, "I'm grabbing a tea, is that alright with you?" I snapped, immediately regretting my tone from the way he threw his hands up in surrender. I sighed and shook my head at myself. "Sorry, I'm just not feeling well, Nick." He gives me a quick nod, "All good. I'll, uh... Give you a buzz if you're cutting it close." I return the nod, promptly stepping off the bus to find somewhere to get said tea.

Though the air wasn't particularly cold, the slight breeze sent a chill straight to my bones. I shivered and flipped my hood up, pulling the drawstrings tight before burying my hands in the pockets of my hoodie. I knew that this cold was gonna hit me hard if I didn't take the necessary precautions, and I dreaded it. Now was not the time for this.

After a few minutes of wandering, I found a coffee shop and entered it with a sigh of relief once the door blocked the wind upon shutting. I took a gander around the quaint café, which has almost a rustic feel to it with the neutral tones and weathered wooden tables. Music floats through the air softly, and I walk further inside with a subtle smile. It felt homey.

I stepped up to the counter, asking the young woman for a small chamomile tea—with honey and lemon if available. She brandishes a friendly smile, and with a bounce in her step, she turns to prepare my tea. I notice how her ponytail of dark curls sprung loosely as she goes, and I’m immediately reminded of Liv.

I smile sadly to myself, reminiscing the way she would move so blissfully behind the counter when I’d pop in, preparing the chai that I regularly ordered. She would then join me at one of the tables with a cheery grin that reached her eyes, drinks and muffins in hand. She would tell me how her morning was going, ramble on enthusiastically about a new recipe or even new baking equipment—I didn’t mind what she talked about; I just admired the way her eyes sparkled with joy and the way her lips curled as she spoke.

“Sir?” A small voice breaks me out of my thoughts. I blink, shaking the fog from my head, and notice the tea that was now sitting in front of me. A wedge of lemon and a serving of honey sat on a tiny platter beside it. “Oh, sorry. Thank you,” I pressed my lips into a tight smile, reaching for the beverage. I quirked an eyebrow, noting it was quite large for the small I had ordered.

“You look like you could use it,” the woman behind the counter says, most likely noticing the quizzical look I flashed at the cup. I grimaced at her words—did I really look as bad as I felt? “That’s very kind of you,” I chuckled timidly. “But you didn’t have to do that." She gives me a shrug, sliding the items closer to me. “I know,” she muses. I could feel the heat radiating against my fingers as she grins at me. “Just an act of kindness, is all. You look a little lost.”

I snickered lightly and averted my gaze to my hands, nodding. Ain't that the truth.

"Anyways, enjoy," she says happily. "I hope the tea helps." I chuckled, taking my items. "Thanks, me too. Have a good rest of your evening." I pressed my lips into another close-mouthed smile and brought the tea over to a vacant table. I settled into the seat, took the lid off to let it cool and added the honey and lemon to my liking.

I stared at the steam billowing from the cup for God only knows how long, just mulling over the last couple of days. The anguish and uncertainty on Olivia's face, the way I knew her heart was shattering piece by piece as the tears fell from her eyes, the realization that she wasn't happy.

I thought about the way she felt in my arms before I left and the way I saw her crying as I was driven further away from her, now wondering if that was the last time I'd get to hold her. That thought was a sucker punch straight to my chest, and I once again felt like I couldn't breathe. I needed to fix this.

My phone buzzes in my pocket; I dig it out, seeing Folio's name on the screen. "Yeah, I'm coming," I muttered into the receiver, hanging up before he had a chance to say anything. I sighed while standing from my seat, placing the lid back on my cup, and brought my waste to the garbage.

I hope the tea helps.

"Me too," I mumbled under my breath, taking a large sip before leaving the café.

-

A week and four shows later, I was feeling worse than ever. No amount of tea, medication, or rest seemed to have helped at all. The cough progressed into a deep whooping cough, and I would be genuinely surprised if my throat wasn't bleeding by the end of the night from how much it burned.

Still, I threw my stage attire on and tried to prepare myself for tonight's show regardless of everyone's weariness. We only had a week left of the tour, and I'd hate to make it this far only to cancel our remaining shows, ultimately disappointing our fans because of a stupid cold.

I popped two Cepacol in my mouth, refraining from speaking so they would dissolve faster to numb my throat. It was only a temporary relief, but I'd take what I could get at this point.

Nicholas makes his way over to me, his bass slung across his torso as he places a hand on my back. "You sure you're okay to be doing this?" I nodded, avoiding the look of concern that I knew was strewn across his face. "I'm just getting worried, man. Last time this happened, you wound up in the hospital from smacking your head off the floor." "I'll be fine," I grumbled, beginning to walk away. "That was just pneumonia." "But the time before that—" I stopped dead in my tracks, spinning on my heel to look at him. "Don't. Don't fucking say it, Nicholas," I barked.

His lips remained parted, the words he wanted to say frozen in place from my hostility. His eyes danced over me, and I knew he could see how my chest was heaving. He knows how hard it is for me to breathe, he knows that it feels like there's a ton of bricks sitting on my chest. He knew the situation between me and Liv, and I knew what he was thinking, but I couldn't bear to hear it.

"I'm fine," I tell him once more while telling myself that it's just pneumonia. He straightens up, snapping his mouth shut, and nods. "Okay," he says, barely audible. I watched him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing while his eyes bounced between mine apprehensively. He's searching for the sincerity in my words that I didn't have. I put my in-ears in, and with a staggering breath turned to head towards the stage, unable to keep looking at his sorrow-filled eyes.

Performing tonight was proven to be one of the most difficult tasks I've ever endured. With each falsetto note, razors dug into my throat, and my lungs rattled painfully with each breath. I was wheezing, trying my best to not erupt into a coughing fit until I finished whatever song we were playing. There were times when I just simply couldn't, and Jolly had to cover some of the vocals for me.

I could tell Jolly wasn't happy with me, aggravation heavy in his features as he glanced at me—not because he had to sing, but under the circumstances as to why he had to. He was the one who tried harder than anyone in our crew to get me to sit out and cancel the show, but of course, my stubborn ass just wouldn't do that. I couldn't.

We had one last song before our encore, and I was relieved knowing that I'd be able to take a breather soon. As I began the opening of 'Just Pretend', the crowd erupted in a roaring cheer like I knew they would. Normally the energy would radiate through me, giving me this high, this adrenaline that could make me run a marathon, but as the second verse hit, everything made a turn for the worse.

I know the pain That you hide behind the smile on your face And not a day Goes by where I don't think I feel the same

All I could see was the forced smile on Olivia's face from all those times I would tell her I'd make it up to her, or as of late when I told her that I loved her. The smile she had when she opened her Christmas present, that quickly faltered and turned into tears when she confessed that she felt this marriage was falling apart.

I can wait for you at the bottom I can stay away if you want me to I can wait for years if I gotta Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

It was ironic, how this song I wrote that was more or less a joke, was suddenly so fucking relatable.

We'll try again When we're not so different We will make amends Til then I'll just pretend

My heart sank as I continued to sing the words, tears springing to my eyes, and I squeezed them shut before the cameras around me would notice. I was losing Olivia, and it was fucking killing me. The more I thought about it, the more I struggled to breathe. The razors in my throat were suddenly in my lungs, and each inhale was more painful than the last. I couldn't handle the searing pain in my chest and throat for much longer.

I choked on my last inhale, my eyes shooting open in a panic as I gasped for air. The mic slips from my hand, feedback screeching through the speakers as it tumbles on the stage. I covered my ears quickly, the sound piercing through me and shooting a chill down my spine. There's a chorus of gasps, and I know the crowd is most likely in shock by the way I stopped singing so abruptly.

I ran off the stage from not only humiliation but hysteria, coughing relentlessly. Everything hurt so fucking bad—the fire in my throat, the vice around my chest, my heart shattering into a million pieces, and of course that dreadfully familiar pain in my lungs as something clawed into me on its way out.

I buckled and collapsed, catching myself on my hands and knees. The hacking never subsided, even after I finally expelled what was in my lungs. Through teary eyes, I saw the blotches of red on the floor below me and knew that my biggest fear had come true. The coughing was soon replaced by sobbing as the rose petals stared back at me, and tiny thorns scattered about—I lost Olivia.

She doesn't love me anymore.

|Chapter 14|

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #fanfic writing #romance #fantasy #quandary #sequel #hanahaki #hanahaki disease #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x oc

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 17

word count: 648

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

January 19, 1989

Dear Will,

I’m so in love with you. Okay, now that that’s out of the way… Last night was a Party movie night, and it went really well. We watched that Harrison Ford movie, Frantic. It was okay, as far as I can recall, because I was much more focused on the fact that you were being so affectionate with me the entire time.

It started with you putting your hand on my thigh, which isn’t really out of the ordinary, but still— it made me blush. About ten minutes in, you leaned your head on my shoulder, and pulled the blanket that we’d draped over our legs a bit closer to your chest, sighing as you relaxed into my side. 

I got kind of lost during the French speaking parts, and luckily, you’ve been taking French for a few years now, so you essentially became my translator, leaning up to whisper to me whenever they said something I couldn’t understand even after attempting to use context clues. Your breath was warm against the shell of my ear, and I felt myself turning red yet again— I’ll be forever grateful to the dark room for making it unnoticeable. 

About halfway through the movie, we shifted into a position on the couch where we laid down side by side, with your arm wrapped around my waist. I was filled with fucking butterflies and had to refrain from obnoxiously giggling at our proximity. If I were to have shifted only slightly, our faces would have been inches apart, and I could have just gone for it and pressed our lips together. But I didn’t, of course, because that would be suspicious. I mean, a lot more suspicious than we were already behaving; Max fake-gagged at one point and yelled at us to get a room, to which neither of us replied. I think you actually pulled me even closer into your chest. I felt so… safe. Protected. Loved. I know that’s impossible, but it felt nice, at least, to dream for a little bit. Just a little bit.

My favorite part of the night, though, was when I felt your breathing even out and came to the realization that you’d fallen asleep while holding me. I eventually felt myself nodding off as well, and graciously accepted my fate as your Cuddle Buddy™. You should know that I cringed while writing that. Ew. But anyway. Everyone else had fallen asleep by then, so I reached down to your hand and clasped it in my own, relishing in the feeling of being yours. And if you were to wake up, I’d just chalk it up to doing it in my sleep.

I woke up this morning and checked my watch to see 09:34 displayed on the face of it, and I couldn’t stop myself from fucking beaming, because we made it through the night without either one of us waking up from a nightmare or flashback. I woke you up, probably because I was literally buzzing with joy, and you returned my sentiment, because this was monumental for the both of us. This was the first time either of us had slept for a full night in years.

You went home several hours ago, but I can’t stop thinking about it. We fell asleep, together, on the couch last night, cuddling like we had during the time that you lived with me, and I felt something similar to homesickness. Nostalgia. When we woke up, I was resting my head on your chest, and I shifted my eyes upwards to look at your lips, which were slightly parted by the soundest of sleeps. I wanted to kiss you. I really, really wanted to kiss you, Will. And I want you to hold me in your arms forever, because it’s the only place I can truly call home.

Love,

Mike

-

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#byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #will byers #will x mike #mike x will #stranger things #stranger things fic

[hannahssimblr]

I’m pretty sure I’ll throw up, it’s not a matter of if, but when. I sit shivering and grey faced in the boys changing room at nine o’clock, Friday morning and wish I was dead. Actually, I’ve wished I was dead rather consistently for the duration of the morning, from the moment I woke up at seven after maybe two hours of sleep, while preparing my sister’s breakfast, while showering, dressing myself in my horrible uniform and for the whole seafront walk to the school gates, where I kept imagining cars swerving over the cycle path and mercifully mowing me down. 

“Jude, man, what time you get home at last night?” Fitzy is in my ear, “I’m so hungover, man, my head is bloody pounding.”

“Dunno,” I reply, “Not long after you I’d say,” through the aura of my vicious migraine I peer at my phone screen where one new message notification blinks at me. 

Jude, darling. Just thinking of you after our call. I hope you’re doing okay. I know I shouldn’t be worried but if you want to talk again tomorrow I am available. Lots of love & miss you every day. xoxox Maureen. 

Jesus Christ. Did I call Aunt Maureen last night? I check my call log to see that indeed, I made a long distance call to New Mexico at four in the morning. A seven minute call. A groan of despair escapes me. I have no recollection. What did I say to her? Something unhinged enough to warrant this anxious text message, whatever it was. I bet I was an incoherent, embarrassing mess. 

Sorry Maureen, it’s all good. I was just a bit homesick. We should catch up properly at the weekend if you’re free. No need to worry. X J

It’s a cruel thing, P.E first thing on a Friday morning, but Mr. Doherty, a likely sadist, seems to love it. This is the same man who scheduled an African drumming workshop the day after our junior cert results came out, knowing full well what he would be inflicting upon a classroom full of hungover sixteen year olds. 

He’s got a basketball in his hands today, bouncing it around the gym floor with his legs spread out about a metre apart. I don’t know why he stands like that, though I suspect perhaps it's a part of his lifelong quest to become the world's most intimidating man and take up the maximum amount of space possible. I made up a story about seeing him on a public bus seat with his legs at a 180 degree angle once, and I still hear it repeated sometimes as though it's fact.

He’s going on about teams, explaining something involving those smelly polyester bibs that nobody has washed since 1972, but I am distracted by the sunlight from the windows edging the ceiling and the way that is so unmanageably bright. Doherty pulls the first of the neon bibs out of the bucket and the sight of it, the colour, the sweat stains around the armpits, makes my stomach lurch. 

“Bib, Turner,” he barks as he throws it at me and I catch it, along with a whiff of stale sweat and Jurassic era skin cells and I drop it right onto the floor, guts churning as I race to the toilets and retch and puke, fallen to my knees inside the filthy stall until there’s nothing left inside me. 

“Classic Jude,” someone is saying when they all filter into the changing rooms afterwards while I still clutch the bowl. I must be here forty minutes now. “Always throwing up.” 

“Y’alright?” Someone else calls out, and I groan. “Well Doherty wants you when you’re done. He’s waiting in the gym.”

“Fuck sake,” I fist my hair in my hands and considering knocking myself out and getting the nurse to send me home.

It’s another few minutes until I trust myself to exit the bathroom, and then, like a shell of a boy, I trudge out to the gym on rubber legs to where Doherty waits beneath a basketball hoop. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while,” He begins, his voice echoing through the rafters.

“Uh huh,”

“It’s Friday. Jude. It’s a school day. How is it that you think you can show up to class in this state?”

“Dunno, sir.”

“I know that you’re a smart boy, right? You know better than this. So when you’re at school, that means you come prepared, well rested, homework done, and in a decent, respectable state, do you understand? You can’t be off doing whatever you like with your evenings, especially if you’re going to show up to my class like this. I shouldn’t even have to explain this to you.”

“Yes sir.”

“This is an insult to me, do you hear what I’m saying? You think because it’s P.E on Friday that you can rip the piss? That you don’t have to take it as seriously as other classes?”

“No, Sir.”

“You’re the same at my Rugby practises too these days, you’ve gone all soft and unfit on me. Is this why? Are you out galavanting every night of the week?”

I hesitate, “Some.”

“Is the boom back already? Sex drugs and rock n roll and whatnot.”

“I dunno what any of those things are.”

“Oh, give me a bloody break. You think I was born yesterday? I could smell your type a mile away, and this is my last straw. I want to see you in detention today from four to five.”

I leap to attention, “Wait, no, sir, I can’t do detention.”

“Seriously, Turner? Are you joking me right now?” “Yes, no, honestly sir. I have an agreement with the school. I don’t have to do detention on Fridays, ask the vice principal, I have-”

“Well that’s the biggest load of bollox I ever heard, do you know that? Special agreement,” he scoffs, “Yeah, pull the other one.”

“I’ll do it Monday, I promise, I just can’t tonight.”

“You’re heading out again, is it? More partying? More drinking and acting the mick? I don’t think so. Detention at four.”

“But sir, I-”

“Don’t talk to me. Decision is final, and if you’re not there, consider yourself suspended.” 

I pace the yard at lunchtime waiting for a call to connect. 

“Hello?” 

“Oh, Trisha, hi, it’s Jude Turner, um, Ivy’s brother?”

“Oh Jude, sweetheart, how are you keeping?”

“Good, yeah, uh, just wondering, are you picking her up from school today?”

“As usual… unless something has changed? She and Ella were planning to work on some sort of group project for school, but if you want to come and get her earlier…”

“No, this is about her piano lesson.”

“Yes, I expect I’ll drop her off at four as I always do…”

“Right, yes, is there any chance that maybe you could collect her too? Just for this week.”

She hisses through her teeth, “Ahh, well you know that we have swimming lessons Fridays at five, we’ll have to be straight on the road… is there going to be a problem collecting her?”

“Um, no, just school stuff, there’s a chance I’ll be delayed.”

“What about your mum, sweetie?” 

“She works until six usually,” there’s dead air on the line and I quickly babble on to fill the silence, “But I’m sure if I tell her what’s happening she’ll leave early, never mind anyway Trisha, I just thought I’d ask.”

“Alright! Sorry about that, love, I’m sure your mum will get it sorted.”

“Yeah. Same. Bye,” I put my phone back into my trouser pocket. No point even trying mom’s phone. She never answers and if she did she wouldn’t help.

The bell rings for the end of lunch. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2009 #tw: vomit #tw: alcohol #tw: drugs #tw: suicidal ideation

[ja-reau]

Feeling pretty useless at uni right now and missing my family. Could you pls write some fluff with a supportive platonic Larissa x reader. Maybe reader having a bad day at Nevermore and Larissa finding them crying somewhere and -fluff commence-

I need me a hug or 100 from Larissa

Too Much - Larissa Weems x student!Reader (platonic)

This was so fun to write and it got super self indulgent HA. Anyways, enjoy!!

Word Count: 878

Warnings: mentions of depression

School was really starting to get the best of you. You had been so stressed as of lately. Your grades were slowly dropping, and it was noticeable to all your teachers. After all, you were one of the best students at Nevermore Academy. You made honour roll every year. But for the past few months, your A plus grades had slowly dropped to Bs and then to Cs. And after an extremely stressful Parents Weekend, you had reached the end of your rope. 

Your dads questioned why your grades were slipping. They questioned why you were so down all the time. They didn’t get it. They didn’t understand that you had fallen into a deep depression. You loved your dads, you really did. But they just didn’t seem to get that. “But you have everything you could ever want. Why are you so sad?” your one father asked. And that just made you feel awful. 

He was right. You had everything you ever needed. So then why were you depressed? You didn’t even have the answer to that question. Life was good! Right? Well… at times. 

You missed your home. When you first started at this school, you were home sick. But after a few months, you got used to it. Now, in your senior year, you were homesick again. You missed your fathers dearly. You missed your home dearly. Overall, you missed your happiness. You wished you were that happy kid you were a few months ago. 

Right after classes finished, you went and locked yourself in your dorm room for the evening. Your roommate, Yoko, was concerned. Since she spent the most time with you, she saw how far into the rabbit hole of depression you had fallen. “Why don’t you come out with Bianca and I tonight?” she asked as she put her sweater on. You simply shook your head no. “I have a study date with myself and my books.” you said. 

After an hour of studying, trying to improve your grades, you decided it was time to eat. You grabbed your wallet and made your way to the cafeteria. It was far too late for there to be any real food, so a vending machine dinner would have to be make do. You weren’t that hungry lately anyway so it made no difference. You rummaged through your wallet before finding a few coins and popping them into the slot. Pressing on a button, suddenly a red flashing light popped up next to it. 

Sold Out 

Fuck. You pressed the next button. 

Sold Out

Again? Okay fine, you pressed on another button, 

Sold Out 

A loud, frustrated groan left your mouth. This whole day was awful, but this just pushed you over the edge. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you asked out loud, lightly slamming your fist on the vending machine cover. 

“Y/n?” You spun around when you heard your Principal say your name. Redness spread over your face from embarrassment. You looked awful. You were in jogging shorts and an oversized sweater, your hair was a mess and your eyes were red from how tired you were. You quickly pulled your hood up to cover your hair. “Principal Weems.” you said. “Are you alright, dear?” she asked, concern on her face. You nodded. “The vending machine seems to be out of everything I want. But I’m fine.” you said. She didn’t need to know what you were dealing with. “Are you sure that’s all? Your teachers and myself are worried about you. Your grades have dropped significantly. This isn’t like you. Your roommate had brought it to our attention that you only leave your room for classes.” she said. 

Fuck. Were you really this obvious? You didn’t want anyone worrying about you. You were fine. You were totally, one hundred percent fine. 

“I’m okay. I’m just… overwhelmed. But I’ll get my grades back up. I promise.” you said. “Overwhelmed with what?” Larissa asked you, moving to sit at one of the seats. “Just… like in general I guess.” you said with a shrug. Larissa didn’t speak, waiting for you to say more. She motioned towards the empty seat next to her for you to sit on. You bit your lower lip before going to sit next to her. Something about Larissa was comforting. She had such a warm nature to her. You felt safe around her. “I just think that… maybe I’m depressed or something. I just feel so numb all the time. And I miss home. And I miss my dads a lot. And I just.. I have no energy to do anything anymore. So I guess that’s why my grades have slipped. I just want to be happy again.” you said, not even noticing the tears that started to slip down your cheeks until you felt Larissa wipe them off your cheeks. “Oh darling.” she said softly, moving to wrap her arm around you. You instantly leaned into her arms. “I’m sorry. It’s just all too much.” you said quietly. “Don’t apologise. I’m here for you sweetie.” she said. 

For the first time in months, you felt relief wash over you. Someone was here for you. “I got you.” Larissa said softly. She got you.

Tags:

@sapphicsbeloved @lesbianbookworm15

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems fluff #larissa weems angst #wednesday fanfic #larissa weems one shot

[taylormarieee]

hi gf!

could you maybe write a fic about shane (pre apocalypse) and his newly ex girlfriend coming over to talk for “closure”?

(maybe it can end with a little smut?)

love you sm 🩷

OFCCC! This can be found in my masterlist as "Closure with a twist"

Shane was walking around his apartment when he hear a knock. He assumed it was the old lady down the hall to complain about how his cop car wasn't in the right parking space.

He groans and walks towards the door. With a annoyed sigh he moves his hand towards the knob to open the door.

"Look lady, I don't have ti-" He looks up and opens his eyes to see you.

His ex girlfriend. He still had feelings for you but you made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

You complained that he wasn't giving you attention and never listened or payed attention.

You didn't even give him time to explain before you packed your things and left Atlanta.

"Hi." You say standing there awkwardly. He blinks a few times as if to bring him back to reality because this all must be in his head.

"Y/n?" He asks. You smile a bit and he smiles back. "Hey, uhm what are you doing here?" He asks.

You scratch the back of your head and respond, "I'm moving back to Atlanta. Can uhm... Can I come in? I'll explain everything." You ask holding your bag.

"Uh, yea.. yea sure. Come in." He says opening the door wider for you to step in his apartment that was onced shared with you.

Your nose is filled with his scent and you reminisce in the good times that happened here.

"So, uhm what did you want to explain?" He asks putting his hands in his pockets.

"Oh! Yea uhm, I came back to find closure you know. Talk to you and get your side of the story. Plus I was kind of missing Atlanta. Getting Homesick you know?" You say with a chuckle.

"You want me to give you closure? For what? You made it clear were done." Shane says a little confused and angry.

You broke his heart, why did you need closure. "I need to know if you really loved me. I just need to know. You never said it, like ever!" You say trying to hold in your tears.

"You were so selfish! I can't comprehend if I really Love you still. I just need to know if you loved me then I'll be on my way Shane!" You stifle a sob as tears run down your face.

"I-I don't-" He starts but you interrupt him. "Of course. I knew you didn't. I was so stupid to think that you really loved me." You say aggressively wiping your tears away.

"Can you let me fucking finish? Damn! That's all you ever do is overthink and procrastinate that you interrupt me whenever I talk to you. Why do you think I just stopped trying to explain myself? You never let me finish!" Shane yells out in frustration.

"I do love you! I fucking love you so much! I loved you then and I still love you to this day. I refused to change anything that you left in your room. I hate not having you hear. Everyday Rick constantly tries to cheer me up but he's not you. I love you babygirl, I love you darling. Please." He says breaking down and wrapping his arms around your cheeks.

Your eyes are wide in shock and your mouth is open. Your speechless. He was right. I never gave him a chance to explain his side because you alway thought the worst.

"Thank you." You say your eyes look apologetic and he sees that. Your eyes said a thousand words that you couldn't describe.

"I still love you too." You say before grabbing his face and kissing him. You loved the way he tasted. Like vanilla and choclate.

He intoxicated you and you missed the way he held you, the way he made you laugh, the way he pleased you. It was never a toxic relationship. Just two people who were very bad at communicating with one another.

He taps your thigh signaling for you to get up and you jump and wrap your legs around his waist.

He carries you to the bedroom and throws you on the bed. You watch as he takes off his shirt as you eagerly take off your pants and underwear.

He removes his pants undoing the belt buckle. The clink of the belt falling to the tile floor echos through the room.

He removes his boxers and lays on top of you. He kisses all up and down your body, adoring your curves and the sounds your making.

You ruffle your hands in his hair and he groans as he makes his way to your clit. He loved the way you smelled and how good you tasted. You tasted like strawberry shortcake and smelt like Lavender as well.

He adored you and everything about you. He always payed attention to every single detail.

"God I missed you." He says before digging in to his long awaited meal.

He laps at your soaking cunt, adoring the way you taste and adoring the way your tight hole clenched around his tongue.

He groan into your pussy, loving the moan you let out and how you grip his hair tighter.

He adds one finger into your tight hole, he watches as you clench around him tightly.

"Clearly know one has pleased you in a long time doll." He says with a smirk on his face.

To blissed out to register what he's saying you just murmur a "nuh uh" before gripping the sheets until your knuckles turn white.

He chuckles lowly to himself as he adds a second finger. You cry out his name and grip his hair tighter than before making him groan. He loved getting his hair pulled.

He notices you clenching continuously so he stops everything he's doing because he knows your about to cum.

"Shane!!" You whine trying to pulls his head back down to your soaking cunt.

He chuckles and removes your hands pinning them above your head.

"Shh doll, imma make you feel good, Jus wait." He says. His southern drawl making you clench your thighs together.

He lines his cock with your entrance and begins his slow deep thrusts that he knows you love.

It drives you crazy feeling how deep he is inside you. His thrusts get a little faster as he grows more impatient and the feeling, the need for him to cum and make you cum was growing in his core by the second.

You cry out his name like a chant over and over again. He breathes down your neck whispering dirty things in you ear as he feels his orgasm coming.

"Cum with me baby! Come on!" He mutters as his eyes roll back and he whimpers at the feeling of his cock dumping hisload inside your tight pussy.

You convulse and shake in his arms as your orgasme over taskes you. Your eyes roll back and you scream his name.

He pulls out and kises your thighs and all over your body. You moan quietly and smile at how well he's treating you.

Before the both of you say anything, you both hear a knock at the door.

Shane rolls his eyes and sighs annoyed.

"What? Who is it?" You ask completely confused at his reaction.

"Martha, the old lady across the street. She's probably coming to complain about the noise we made." He responds with a smirk on his face.

Your face gets hot and you try to hide under the covers as you giggle and playfully hit Shane.

He could never be happier, now that he finally has the love o his life back.

Taglist: @sinsandsweetness @grixonsdoll @catt-leya @carlsdarling

#shane walsh x y/n #shane walsh smut #shane x reader

[roosterbruiser]

𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 ☾☽ 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐕.𝐈𝐈

☾☽ 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 "𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫" 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐚𝐲𝐞 "𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫" 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫

☾☽ 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: It’s been almost three years since the accident that took half of her, and Faye “Clover” Ledger seems fine, really. She loves her old house, she has a perpetually expanding vinyl collection, she’s got a job she likes on base, and she is only a short drive from the beach. She’s grounded--literally. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw feels like he’s been homesick his entire life. He’s always on the move;  jumping from one squadron to another, living one mission to the next. Somewhere in between losing both his parents and carving a successful career as a Naval aviator, he’s never found himself a home. When a call to serve on a high-priority mission with an elite squadron brings Rooster back to Miramar, he finds that home. Except it’s not a house that he finds--it’s the former backseater that observes and records the mission for the Official Navy Record. 

☾☽ 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

☾☽ 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

☾☽ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞.𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏

“Tell me what you’re feeling, baby,” he commands. 

“Pressure,” I mutter, “burning.” 

He holds my hand tight--maybe tighter than he ever has before, tight like he’s afraid I’m fading. But I’m not--I’m achingly here, in this sore body as my daughter tries to untether herself from me. 

“Almost there, okay? Doing great, baby, just sit tight for me. Sit tight, baby.”

Sit tight. I hate sitting tight.

“I’m trying,” I whimper. 

He squeezes my hand. I know, baby. I know.   

Like I bumped into a switch, the pain begins again. There is no steady incline anymore, it’s just an immediate shock, reaching its peak quicker than I can even fill my lungs. 

Moaning, I sway my hips, desperate for some sort of relief from this pressure bearing so low and deep. It doesn’t help--it still feels like my whole body is going to be turned inside out, still feels like I’m going to wither away right here. 

“Do I need to pull over?” He asks this without wavering--urgent, but serious. 

“Just get there,” I moan, shaking my head. “Please.” 

I don’t even feel like myself--this pain has made me someone else, someone that is only a shell of Faye. Maybe this is when it starts; when the person I have been my entire life disconnected from who I’m about to become.  

“You tell me if we need to pull over, okay?” 

What he means is: he’ll deliver the baby himself if that’s what I need him to do. 

My spine tingles. No, no. I just want to get to the hospital, just want this to be over, just want even an edge to be taken off this pain. I just want to be done.  

“S’not in the birth plan,” I groan, burying my face in the seat. 

Even my lips are quivering.

“Fuck the birth plan,” he says, scoffing and squeezing my hand. “Fuck the playlist, too. It was mainly Bruce Springsteen anyway. Just gonna do what you need, okay? And if you need me to pull over, Faye-baby, I’ll fucking do it. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.” 

Oh, God. We haven’t followed the birth plan at all, the one we printed out and made copies of. I haven’t done any of my lamaze or affirmations. I haven’t been munching on ice chips and sipping pedialyte. There hasn’t been low lighting and soft rock playing. It’s all been a blur, every single bit of it. To think about pulling over, to think about Bradley delivering our first child on the side of the road in my car, it makes my tongue dry. 

That’s when I start crying again.

“I’m really scared,” I sob, “I’m really--fuck, oh, God--I’m-I’m, I don’t wanna have a baby in the car. Please, please, please don’t let me have her in the car, Bradley!” 

I know I sound like a child, I know it. But I can’t help it. I need to be soothed. I am a motherless child about to become a mother. And it feels like it’s going to happen right here, right now. 

“Faye, s’alright, take a deep breath. C’mon, take a breath.” 

The breath I take even hurts as it stretches my lungs. It’s a sopping and pathetic thing, quivering in my mouth. 

“Atta girl, good girl,” he soothes, “you’re gonna be just fine, alright? We’re so close, baby--just a couple minutes. Everything’s gonna be just fine. I won’t let anything happen to either of you, baby. Promise it, okay? Promise.” 

I’m in the middle of another contraction when he opens the passenger door in the hospital parking lot. He doesn’t try to interrupt it, doesn’t try to move me, doesn’t ask me to get out of the car. He leans down, kisses the top of my head, presses against my back in a desperate attempt to alleviate pressure. 

“Good girl,” he whispers against my scalp, barely audible above my low moans, “we made it, baby.”

I know he’s relieved. Entirely, thoroughly, completely relieved that he did not have to deliver olive on the side of the road.  

We leave the bags in the car. 

He tries to hurry us without dragging me along while I try to catch my breath, try to do anything except live from one endless contraction to the next, try to feel the November breeze all around me. But I feel like an ember glowing red-hot in the darkness all around us, feel like I’m going to collapse before we even make it to the entrance. 

He’s holding my waist, letting me lean against him, holding all the weight I give him. 

“Good job, baby,” he says, “almost there, so close. S’all good, we’re almost there.”

“Oh,” I cry, an unbearable pressure growing between my legs.

I want to stop--want to stop right here and make everyone come to me. But I can’t--I have to keep moving, even with the pressure, even with the agony.

“Need to stop?”

Shaking my head, I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and bite down hard enough to taste salt and metal. 

“My hero,” he mumbles, kissing my temple.

Just before we walk through the automatic doors, just before we come into this hospital as expectant parents, I tilt my head back and open my eyes for what feels like the first time since getting out of the car. There they are, just like they always have been and will be: stars. They’re twinkling, dazzling, hung very high up above in the onyx sky. 

And even though I feel like I’m being ripped apart, even though I feel like I’m about to be split in half; I feel like everything’s going to be okay. It’s a waxing crescent moon and these are the same stars Maggie looked at. This sky knows me and very soon, my daughter too. 

It feels like everything is moving at hyperspeed.

As soon as we’re through the doors of the hospital, there are a million hands on me. My temperature is being taken, my blood pressure checked, my pulse measured. I’m being pushed down into a wheelchair and wheeled down a white-washed hallway. I’m under bright fluorescents and being asked questions I can’t answer. And then we’re finally--finally--in a hospital room and I can stand up, lean against the bed, sway my hips. My eyes are still screwed closed--I don’t even know what the hospital room looks like. I don’t know how many people are in the room, but it feels like too many. I just want it to be me and Bradley, who’s holding tightly to my hips. 

“First baby?” Someone--a woman--asks. She doesn’t sound panicked--she sounds jovial. Bitch. Fucking bitch. 

“Yeah,” Bradley says, sounding tired and excited and scared, “does it show?” 

There’s a chorus of laughter as machines clatter and latex gloves snap. I was right--there are too many people in here. And even with my eyes shut, I know it’s too bright. And that awful stench is in here--like it’s so filthy that they’re masking the scent with intense cleaner and bleach. It smells sick. 

“Still alive?” Bradley coos, tucking my hair behind my ears. 

I still can’t open my eyes. I can’t move my forearms from the bed, can’t speak. 

“Barely,” I mutter.

“Doing great, baby,” he soothes, “incredible, really. They’re talking about naming a wing in the hospital after you.” 

If I could do anything except grind my teeth, I’d laugh. 

“Alright, Miss Faye, we’re gonna take real good care of you. Vitals are looking real good, just the way we like ‘em. I’m Nurse Reese and my trusty pal there is Nurse Kidrick,” a soft, feminine voice says beside me. “Dr. Sandoval is on her way up now, shouldn’t be long ‘til she’s here.” 

I nod, swaying endlessly.

“How you feel, honey?” 

There are a million words I could say right now, none of them pretty. 

“Close,” I mutter because it’s true. I feel very, very close. 

More laughter--like something is funny. Maybe something is funny and I don’t know because I am so outside of my body, so blind to anything else but pain. 

“We’ll check on that in just a minute.”

Bradley’s warm breath fans across the back of my neck.  

“So, mama--think you have it in you to change into a gown or are we getting down and dirty?” The very jovial woman asks. I think she’s Nurse Kidrick--Nurse Reese’s trusty pal. 

She lays a hand in the middle of my back; even through her latex gloves, her hand is very warm--but my skin is hot, burning hot.

“And dad--was mama wanting an epidural?” Nurse Reese asks. 

Our birth plan--we planned on one, if that’s what I wanted. But I can hardly sit still. I think it would be entirely impossible to sit still long enough for it to be administered. I think I have passed a certain point of no return, too--this pressure bearing down is too consuming to be numbed. I feel too close and I don’t know how I know, but I do know it. 

“What do you say, baby?” Bradley asks quietly, rubbing my back. “Ball’s in your court.”

I just shake my head. No, no epidural.

“You sure, honey? Hardest part is yet to come,” Nurse Reese says.  

My throat is dry. 

I could do without hearing how difficult it’s going to be from everyone. 

“She said no. She’ll just stay in her sweatshirt, too,” he tells them, his voice even and steady. I open my mouth to thank him, even if it’s just mutely, but all that comes out is a strangled moan--the pressure is overbearing, overwhelming, cruel. Bradley’s palms are warm when he lets them rest on my back, thumbs pressing into the bottom of my spine most pleasantly. “Can someone check her now, please? She said she feels close.” 

It makes my heart stutter--listening to him advocate for me, listening to him be my voice when I can’t use mine.  

“It’s like you know my next move! Let’s get you on the bed, honey,” Nurse Kidrick says, squeezing my shoulder.

The thought of moving, of climbing onto the bed, of lying on my back nauseates me.

All I can do is shake my head, sucking in a labored breath. 

Bradley sighs, combing his fingers through my hair.  

“She’s really only comfortable if she’s moving,” he tells them, pressing into my hips again. “How can we do both?” 

He’s such a leader, even when he’s vulnerable, even when he’s excited--obsessive about preservation and comfort. It makes my heart throb, makes me want to swoon despite everything. 

The nurses say nothing for a moment. All I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears. 

“I can hold you,” he tells me very seriously. “Can you do that, baby?” 

I lean back wordlessly, finally straightening my spine, and he wraps his arms around me. He’s solid behind me, more solid than anything I’ve ever leaned on in my life. His arms are strong, strong enough to hold ten of me and olive. And I just lean against him, just try to keep my breaths even despite how shallow they feel. He hooks his arms beneath my armpits, secures me against him. This is good--this feels good. I like to be held by him, like to lay my head on his shoulder and let him keep me upright. He’s so very good at it--always has been. 

One of the nurses takes my pants off, but I’m so far past the point of caring that I would be pantsless in front of the whole world and not even blink. Then they’re nudging my legs apart and I’m giving more weight to Bradley, trying to hold still when another contraction begins. 

“Atta girl,” Bradley whispers to me, “doing great, baby. Just perfect.”

The pressure is not something I feel like I’m going to live through--it’s too much, far too much. It’s so bad that it makes me want to bear down, makes me want to just push and push until I’m done and everything’s over. 

There’s a glove between my legs, pressing up and up until I gasp out. 

“Oh--you weren’t kiddin’. Close is right! Nurse Reese, would you please tell Dr. Sandoval that we’re gonna be delivering a baby in the next ten minutes with or without her?”

It prickles my skin, slaps me across the face. 

In the next ten minutes, our baby is going to be born. 

Bradley squeezes me. His heart is racing--I’m sure he’s flushed, too. He presses kisses to my temple, my cheeks. 

“Well, you sure don’t waste time, do you?” Nurse Kidrick laughs.

Something is gnawing on my brainstem--something between thought and feeling, something smarting and utterly true. It washes over me like a rainstorm. 

“Think I have to--oh, God, I think I have to push,” I cry, burying my nails in Bradley’s hands, leaning against him. 

It’s a blur: Bradley sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing my back against his chest, securing my body tight. The contractions never-ending, the pressure to push becoming almost impossible to suppress. The nurses running around, getting blankets, getting suction, getting the doctor in there. Spreading my legs, gripping my thighs, gritting my teeth. Trying to hear anything except my own heartbeat, trying to feel Bradley’s lips on the top of my head, trying to breathe. 

And I want to meet my daughter and I want to be a mother, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid that things are going to be irreversibly different and that this is the last moment in my life I’ll ever just be Faye. And I’m scared to raise a daughter without my mother and my sister. And I’m scared to rip in half and bleed out. And I’m scared that Jake is really, really hurt and things won’t ever be the same for him. I can’t say any of it, though, can’t do anything except moan and throw my head against Bradley’s shoulder. 

“Good to see you two--Faye, Bradley! Let’s make this the Bradshaw part of three, huh?”

Even with my eyes screwed shut, I know that it’s Dr. Sandoval speaking to me. She has a very deep and velvety voice, which is muffled by a mask now. I like her--I’ve always liked her. But right now I just want everything to be over and done with. And I’m tired of everyone being so chirpy--it certainly doesn’t feel like there’s anything to be chirpy about. 

“Vitals are great, no sign of infection, and her water broke at approximately seven o’clock,” Nurse Kidrick tells Sandoval. “She came in fully dilated! Barely made it!” 

There’s more conversation, but it’s drowned out when another contraction swallows me. Each one is begging me to push, bearing down low, threatening to slice me wide open. I need to--I want to, I have to. It’s just something that is. 

“Ohh,” I moan, shaking my head, biting my lip hard. 

There’s commotion and I think everyone is settling between my legs, think everyone is getting things ready for olive, think everyone is preparing themselves. 

“I know that sound,” Dr. Sandoval says. “Go on and push if you feel the urge, Faye.”

“Mama’s comfortable?” Nurse Reese asks. “This how she wants to push?” 

Bradley nods. 

“Have to,” I say, my fingers shaking.   

“Just lean into it, baby,” Bradley tells me, his breath warm. “Listen to your body.” 

God, if I wasn't in so much blinding pain, I’d laugh. Of course he knows exactly what to say; he’d better have after all the reading he did. 

But I do lean into it, I do listen to my body. I can’t do anything but. It’s just something that’s happening. And the pressure is growing, growing, growing. It’s all happening now, only ten minutes after we got to the hospital, only a few hours after my water broke. Only a few hours after we found out about Jake in North Carolina. And God, we haven’t heard anything from Admiral Byron and he was supposed to call my number, he was supposed to keep us updated on Jake--

“Focus, baby,” Bradley says quietly, kissing my cheek. If I could hold my own weight, I know he’d bring his hand to my face and smooth the crease between my brows. “C’mon, s’alright. Everything’s gonna be just fine. C’mon now--push, baby.” 

A cry rips from my throat--it’s raw, doesn’t sound like me. It pierces everyone’s ears I’m sure, that pitiful sound.  

“Good,” Dr. Sandoval praises, “keep going, keep going, keep going!” 

So I do--I hold my breath, push, ignore the searing burn.

It’s worse than getting ripped in half. It’s worse than ejecting from an F-18 and getting a concussion and broken ribs and slicing my jaw and bursting my eardrum and frost bite on my fingers and bruised vocal cords and a dislocated shoulder and a sprained wrist. It’s if someone held all that pain under a magnifying glass beneath the California sun, let it catch fire, let it all burn and wither away in a hot gust of wind. But it doesn’t hurt more than reaching the ground, doesn’t hurt more than seeing Maggie there waiting for me, her eyes wide open and unseeing. This pain is one of life--I know that. I can tell. It is a serious pain because it is going to be a serious life. 

“You’re doing it, you’re doing it!” Bradley says, lips attached to the shell of my ear. “C’mon, baby, keep going! Good job, good job!”

It’s strange--strange that this is the last time olive will be attached to me, kept entirely safe by the armor of my body. All this skin and fat and muscle and tissue that held her will never hold her again, not on the inside, not where she grew. 

“Oh,” I exhale, face hot as a kettle. I rest against Bradley’s shoulder, gulping air, trying to fill my lungs. “Mmm.” 

He’s peppering my face in kisses, the nurses are patting my thighs like they would a trusty dog, Sandoval has her hand pressed against my heat. So many people are touching me, so much is happening.

“You’re doing perfect, baby,” Bradley says, his voice teary as he brushes hair off my forehead. “M’so proud of you. Almost there, okay? Almost done.” 

This is how it goes. My feet are firmly planted on the ground, my nails permanently embedded in Bradley’s thighs, my eyes sealed shut. I’m holding my breath and pushing, moaning and throwing my head back against Bradley’s shoulder. He’s kissing my face, telling me how good I am, how perfect I’m doing. The nurses are holding my thighs and I feel like I’m genuinely being shredded. And it smells like a hospital in here so badly that it makes me ache all over.

“Take a breath,” Bradley says, pushing my hair off my face, stroking my hot cheek. “You’re doing so fucking great, baby. Take a breath. Breathe, baby.” 

The air in my lungs feels wet with sweat. 

“Good job, mama!” Nurse Reese says, rubbing my thigh. 

Nurse Kidrick echoes her statement, patting my calf. 

I feel like a farm animal. 

“So close,” Dr. Sandoval promises, her gloves bloodied. “Gimme everything you’ve got!” 

I am giving her everything I’ve got. It’s an overwhelming urge, something that I’m not even sure that I have control of. It feels like the hardest thing I’ve ever done and also something my body is doing on autopilot. 

“Trying,” I whimper, shaking my head as tears roll down my cheeks. 

I am so exhausted--so tired that I think I could fall asleep on a bed of rusty nails.

Bradley kisses my temple when I fling my head into his chest again, chest heaving, body on fire, cheeks swollen and red. His face is wet too--I don’t think he can help crying. It would be strangely dismal to watch the love of your life in agony to usher in a new, precious life.

The tears on my cheeks are fat now--if I had even an ounce more of energy, I would allow myself the luxury of sobbing openly. But I don’t--so I just lay my head there, try and catch my breath, and let the tears roll rapidly down my face. 

“You’re so close, keep going!” Kidrick exclaims. 

Bradley tenses beneath me. 

“Give her a second,” Dr. Sandoval says before Bradley can. “Let’s get her some water.”

One of the nurses brings a straw to my lip--I can hardly get myself to swallow the icy water, but I do it, collapsing into Bradley again. He strokes my hair carefully, kissing my temple again.

“Babies always come out, honey. Okay?” I think it’s Nurse Kidrick that says this, still sounding jovial as ever. 

Now I wish that Maggie was here vehemently. She would’ve been the one holding my thigh instead of Nurse Kidrick and she wouldn’t be so chirpy while I’m in the throes of labor. And if she heard Nurse Kidrick say that to me, she’d snort something bitter at her before I’d even have a chance to process her tone. 

“No shit,” I whisper, voice haggard and hardly audible.  

“You just lean on me, Faye-baby,” Bradley soothes, nuzzling his nose against me. “S’okay to cry, I know s’hard. Almost through, I promise. Almost finished.”

It is only a few minutes later that it happens.     

That little baby that was the size of an olive when I found her, that little baby that kicked Bradley’s cheek on the beach in California, that little baby that came and then stayed, that little baby that likes tea, that little baby that hiccupped and startled--they’re born at 11:59PM, slipping from my body with a final gush.

An immediate, overwhelming emptiness floods my being. I feel the precise moment that she detaches from me, separating our bodies forever. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to anyone since Maggie. 

“Oh, my God!” Bradley cries. “You did it, baby! You did it!”

My chest is heaving. My legs are shaking. 

“I did it,” I whisper, hardly audible to even my own ears.

My ears are ringing, temple pounding. Bradley’s laughing through his tears in shock, I think--kissing my face all over, never minding the sweat or tears. He’s grinning, happier than I’ve seen him all day.

“M’so fucking proud of you,” he promises. “Oh, baby, I love you s’much.”

That emptiness is freezing my fingertips. I’m not even sure my voice works anymore. It’s like a bomb went off beside my ear, shattered my body, rendered me voiceless.    

“Open your eyes, open your eyes!” Nurse Reese says, patting my thigh. 

I didn’t even realize that my eyes were closed. I do open them--and there they are, my baby. They’re a tiny, red little thing, squirming in Dr. Sandoval’s gloved hands, tiny mouth wide open. They have hair--a whole head of it. And they’re the smallest thing I’ve ever seen, glistening beneath the harsh fluorescents.  

“Oh my God,” Bradley says tearfully, kissing my temple again despite the sheen of sweat. “Oh, you did it, baby. You did it. You did so fucking perfect, baby. Oh my God!”

Dr. Sandoval doesn’t give me a choice--she reaches up and thrusts the baby into my arms. And I reach for them, pulling them up to rest on my sweatshirt covered chest, putting my palm against their head and neck and it is so strange. I think I’m in shock when their skin touches mine for the first time, when I feel that slick and soft body that I made and protected. I hold them against me, against the UVA sweatshirt that will probably be stained forever, tuck their head close to my chin. 

“C’mon,” Nurse Kidrick coos, rubbing the baby’s back, “give us a wail, honey.” 

They haven’t cried yet--God, they haven’t cried yet. 

I pat their back, blinking rapidly at the lights, at the blood on the tile, at my wobbly legs, at Dr. Sandoval kneeling between them and patting my knee.

Bradley reaches around, gives a few soft pats against their little back, coos something that I can’t hear over the blood rushing in my ears. 

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he tells them. “C’mon, let us hear it.” 

There it is--a piercing wail, one that just needed a moment. They just needed their dad to pat their back. And when I hear it for the first time, it sounds like my sister’s laugh; it sounds like those few fleeting moments of amplified static before a record starts. Like it is winding up to something bigger, like the silence is full of sound. They’re bawling--howling--into the air in this big hospital room, taking those first sweet breaths outside the womb. 

“Oh, there we go!” Nurse Kidrick exclaims, petting my hair. Her hand is still warm. “Only time you’ll wanna hear them cry, I bet!”

Nurse Reese quickly puts a pink and blue striped cotton blanket over me and olive, covers their naked body, squeezes my arm. 

“Good job, mama! Congratulations!” 

Bradley’s shaking behind me--weeping, I think. His tears are wetting my hair, his breaths wet and deep. He’s holding their back, stroking their wet skin, sniffling. 

“M’so fucking proud of you,” he praises, pressing sopping kisses to my hair and face as he sets his chin on my shoulder. “Oh my God, m’so happy, baby. Y’alright, y’okay?” 

He’s still holding me upright. My body is aching. I’m still contracting. I’m so fucking tired. My heart hurts. I wish my sister was here. And I really need Jake to be okay. But above all of that, above all the whirlwind hours we’ve lived through, I’m so fucking happy. Blindingly, stupidly happy.  

And it makes me burst into tears as I bring my lips down onto the wet hair of that precious, precious baby. My baby--my child. The first and most precious thing my body has ever made from pure, unadulterated love. Even those cries--they’re sweet. They’re perfect. 

“Hey you,” I whisper to them, tears pouring down my cheeks and onto their hair. “My little hiccup-er. Hi, sweet thing.”

“Congratulations! Glad you two made it in time,” Dr. Sandoval says, still muffled behind her mask. Her honey-colored eyes are crinkled, though--she’s smiling up at me, still on her knees in her black scrubs. “That’s a sweet baby, but goodness--they were in a hurry!” 

“Oh, you were,” I whisper to them, sniffling. “That’s okay, though. That’s alright--I was excited to meet you, too.”

Everything around us feels like white noise: the nurses shuffling around, Sandoval getting things situated, the 80s music playing at the nurses station just outside, a wailing ambulance, the flickering light in the hall, the crying, the wailing. All of the things that I hardly heard before with my eyes closed.

“Gosh, I usually ask this before, but we didn’t have the time! What are we gonna name this little girl?” 

My spine prickles. Bradley looks up at Nurse Kidrick and Nurse Reese with wide eyes, parted lips. As if we didn’t already know.   

“Wait, are they--is it a girl?” 

Nurse Kidrick is grinning. 

“It’s a girl!”

“I knew it,” I cry softly, stroking her hair. “I knew you.” 

I think I’ve known her all along.

Bradley is peppering my face with kisses, pulling me close to him, his strength not faltering once. 

“You did, baby. You’re perfect--you did so good, so fucking good. I love you, Faye,” he sobs, shaking his head. “We have a daughter!”

I can’t sleep. Even with this exhaustion that cuts to the bone, even though my eyes are aching beneath the bright lamplight, even though I feel like a washrag that’s been wrung and drained--I can’t close my eyes for even more than a minute. After all the excitement, all the measuring, all the blood, all the questions, all the praising, all the adjusting, all the moving, all the solving, all the tears, all the pictures, all the celebrating things are finally quiet now.  

It’s dark in here, the black night shining in from the bay window. There are machines and IV stands and an incubator dotted around the sprawling tile floor. The walls are a cream color with a Pepto Bismol-pink stripe running along. It’s really an ugly room, so big that it’s strange that it’s so empty, but it doesn’t bother me. This is the room where I gave birth to my first daughter and I love it for that alone, will dream of this place in terms of softness and longing. It’s a quiet room, our heavy door closed, the overhead lights turned off.  

It must be past three in the morning now, maybe even closer to four, but time feels like a silly thing right now. Time isn’t real in this big hospital room that smells too clean, on this bed with Bradley tucked beside me, in my linen pajamas. I’m warm because he’s wrapped around me and I’m nestled against his chest, the scratchy sheets pulled over us. 

If she wasn’t here against my chest, her swollen eyelids fluttered shut, then I would feel very empty still. I have held her weight with my body for such a long time, spanning out across almost an entire year. All even six pounds and eighteen inches of her. She’s in my arms now, a sweet and tiny thing that isn’t crying anymore. 

She’s sleeping, a quiet heaviness in my arms. Her little eyelids are fluttering softly, her fingers still and wrapped around Bradley’s finger. 

Bradley’s stroking my hair, which he’s been doing carefully and easily for the past few hours. He hasn’t stopped touching me at all--a hand on my hip, his forearm beneath my palms, hoisting me up with his arms around my waist, kissing my forehead. 

“So little,” I whisper--my voice is ragged from labor, tired and sagging. 

He hums and the vibrations of it on his chest ease a tense muscle in my chest, make it go slack with peace. 

“I think I’m in shock,” Bradley whispers, shaking his head. 

“Me too,” I return softly. 

He sighs, kisses my head, brings his hand down to softly cradle our daughter’s head. His hand looks so big, her head hardly even big enough to fill out his palm. And all that precious dark blonde hair, her whole head of it, is almost as tan as his skin. 

“You almost gave birth on the side of the road,” he says softly, his voice strained with disbelief and incredulity. “Baby, you almost gave birth on the side of the road.”

I’m too tired to laugh so I just smile. 

“Uh huh,” I whisper, “I was there.”

Achingly there. 

He chuckles, shaking his head. He’s stroking her forehead with that sweet thumb, a comforting and constant movement over her skin. 

“What was the rush, little lady? Couldn’t wait to meet us?”

Little lady. Our little lady. He says it very softly, his voice deep and whispered, husky and tired. I wish I could hear him with her ears; the love of a father, his words shining with devotion and awe. How lucky she is already to have him, to be stroked and touched by him.

“Jake’s never gonna live it down,” Bradley follows after a moment, chuckling dryly. 

“What?” I whisper, raising my eyebrow. 

He kisses my temple again. 

“Breaking your water,” he says softly. 

It makes me laugh--and God, it hurts to laugh. 

“S’gonna go straight to his head,” I whisper. 

He sighs--I can feel the smile tugging at his lips. 

But then a different kind of quiet falls over us, prickles our spines. Through all the picture taking and cooing and amazement, we haven’t checked our phones at all. And now we’re too busy holding our daughter, too busy memorizing her little face and gawking at her little fingernails. For all we know, I have a thousand missed calls from Admiral Byron. For all we know, Jake could be calling Bradley nonstop. It almost makes me sick to my stomach just to consider it. 

“Do you think he’s…” I’m not sure how to finish my sentence. So I just let it hang in the warm air. 

“S’okay,” Bradley whispers, pressing his nose into my cheek. “I’ll check our phones in a minute, okay? M’sure he’s just fine.” 

I have to crane my neck to look up at him, but when I do he’s already looking at me. Even in the shadows of this dark room, his eyes are wide and swimming--I think his pupils might even be heart-shaped. He’s smiling softly, his hair and mustache messy and endearing, his cheeks tear-stained and flushed. His hand stops moving--just lays to rest on the back of my head, fingers still and palm warm. 

“Hold her,” I whisper to him, nodding very small. 

His breathing hitches--his chest stutters, his mouth parts. He’s searching my face, looking for something to latch onto, but I just keep looking at his whiskey-colored eyes. They’re watery and glazed, very heavy. But he nods after a moment, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. 

He hasn’t held her yet--no, not with all the excitement happening. She has been entirely in my arms from the moment she slipped from me and into this world. 

“Okay,” he says softly, blinking a few times. His brows furrow. “Are you sure?”

I would laugh any other time--my sweet pilot suddenly unsure and panicky at the sheer prospect of holding a tiny, six pound thing. But he’s trying to ground himself in the confines of my gaze, trying to pick out a piece of comfort from my half-shut eyelids and twitching lips. 

“So sure,” I say softly. “Like stupid, vapid sure.”

He smiles--a short and fleeting thing. He kisses me twice, patting the back of my head.

He carefully detangles himself from me, hesitantly placing his socked feet on the ground. At his full height, all that broad and tan muscle, he looks achingly good even for not having slept in close to twenty hours now. His clothes are wrinkled and unkempt, probably from bending around my frame--but it doesn’t take away even a fraction of his beauty.  

“Skin to skin, right?” He asks, like he doesn’t already know. He was the one who told me about the benefits of skin to skin as we brushed our teeth a few months ago. 

“Mhm,” I whisper.

The baby stirs. It is so strange that she is outside of my body now, so strange that I can watch her mouth move and her eyes flutter. But she’s here in my arms, a pale little thing with round cheeks and tiny heart-shaped lips that are the color of a primrose. She’s curled up into herself, even swaddled in the blanket I crocheted, just in a tiny diaper. 

Bradley leans over the bed, his sweatshirt discarded, his chest flooded with red. He kisses my temple again, squeezes my bicep. 

“Y’alright?” He asks for the thousandth time. 

I’m more alright than I’ve ever been, but also not okay at all. 

“Think so,” I whisper. “You ready?”

He nods--it’s a barely-there movement of his head, but I see it. 

He helps me sit up, taking all the weight I give him, whispering softly for me to take my time as he adjusts the pillows behind me. And then he hesitantly holds his hands out, towards her, towards our daughter. 

“Birthday girl,” I say softly, delicately ghosting my fingers over her plush cheek. 

She twitches--a quick tensing of her muscles that she hasn’t quite figured out yet. And then she whines behind her closed lips, a small and sweet sound that makes my chest ache. 

“God dammit, that was cute,” Bradley mutters, shaking his head. 

I put her in his arms very carefully--putting her little head in the crook of his elbow, letting her tiny body rest against his forearm, tucking her little blanket on my lap. 

“Like this?” He asks--like he wasn’t the only father-to-be in our parenting classes who knew to support the newborn doll’s head. 

I just nod, my arms feeling suddenly very empty, my body feeling very deflated. But how could I not smile, how could I not melt, seeing him stand beside my hospital bed with that tiny little thing against his skin? She’s so small--so small that I don’t even understand how she’s a real thing and not a doll. 

Bradley’s breathing is shallow, like he’s really trying to measure his breaths while he holds her. His arms are secure, but not too constricting as he holds her against him. He’s tense--I can see it from here, can see the stiffness of his shoulders, the crinkle between his brow. 

“Perfect,” I whisper, leaning against the mattress. “You’re a natural.”

She suddenly whines--a quiet and itty-bitty noise in her throat. But that’s enough to make his face change entirely; gone is the stress and the anxiety and in its place is a bleary-eyed grin. He moves carefully, holding her closer, relaxing his body. They melt into each other, her cheek against his chest, his hand over her little back. 

“Oh, baby,” Bradley whispers suddenly, glancing down at me with wide eyes. “I love her so much. Like I really, really love her.”    

A fist squeezes my gushing heart--overwhelms me entirely. Tears prickle my eyes and my lips are warm and swollen, my fingers very warm as they wrap around my daughter’s body. God, my whole body feels it when I cry: my aching cunt, my throbbing breasts, my empty belly. It feels like my insides have been scooped out and heaved away, but I would choose--over and over and over again--to be here in this body right now.

“She’s pretty unbelievable,” I whisper, wiping my cheeks. 

Bradley is looking down at her, face awash with love. 

“She’s just the tiniest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he whispers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Maybe we should name her Little Bit.”

“Little Bit Bradshaw,” I whisper, shaking my head. “A little on the nose, isn’t it?” 

He strokes her cheek softly, eyebrows knit. Her skin is the softest thing I’ve ever touched in my life, like softened butter or a conditioned feather. I know that’s what he’s thinking. 

“What is your name, little bit?” Bradley asks her.

He sinks into the chair beside the bed, reclining so her little body can rest between his pecs, holding his hands over her little diaper.

“Let me know if she tells you,” I whisper. 

He smiles.

When I throw my legs over the side of the bed and sink so my feet are touching the floor, he’s eyeing me carefully from his spot. I can feel the burn of his gaze, the knit between his brow, the spring just below his feet that’s only sequestered by our slumbering daughter. 

“You be careful now, baby,” he warns quietly. “Don’t overdo it. Why don’t you wait until I’m up and I can help you--?”

I’m not overdoing it. I stood up for the first time post-birth two hours ago, clinging onto Bradley’s forearms with Nurse Reese watching closely on standby. It’s difficult and I’m wobbly, but it isn’t impossible. 

“I’ve got it,” I whisper. “Promise I’ve got it.”

A jolt of pain wraps itself around my body when I let all my weight on my feet--pain deep enough to vibrate my spine, but nothing compared to the car ride to the hospital. 

“Y’okay? Y’arlight, baby?” 

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I nod. 

“Just fine,” I whisper, shuffling towards him across the tiles. “Here.”

I lay the crochet blanket across them, carefully tucking it over her neck and across his bare arms. She’s sleeping very soundly, lulled by the beat of his heart and strength in his arms. 

Bradley’s looking up at me, chewing his bottom lip as I stroke the tufts of hair on the back of her head. Even her hair feels like a soft blanket or piece of cotton.  

“Did she tell you her name?” I ask, my voice thin.

He sighs, tucking his chin to his chest to look down at her slumbering form. 

“No,” he sighs, “she’s got a Hell of a poker face, too.”

Humming, I just nod. She is the best pain reliever I’ve ever had--all that ache fades and is replaced with unpitied warmth whenever I look at her cheek against his chest. 

“Pictures,” I whisper, shuffling over to our bags laid haphazardly in the corner. “Gotta take pictures.”

Bradley’s humming now, tucking his chin against his chest to just look at her, a fond smile tugging at his lips. He’s very softly stroking the back of her tiny neck with his thumb, making her twitch against him as she slumbers. How entirely relaxed she must be on her daddy’s chest. 

“I wanna have, like, ten of these things,” he mumbles, sighing.

My body aches in response as I dig through my purse, fishing past chapstick and tissue packets for my phone. 

“All those books and parenting classes and not one of them warned against saying that to me right now?” I mumble, shaking my head. 

He laughs. 

“You made it look easy,” he defends. I can feel his grin from here as he watches me pad around. “Rapid labor, surviving a forty-five minute car ride, pushing a baby out standing up? C’mon, it was nothing for you! Just another day for Faye Bradshaw.” 

I’m shaking my head, but I can’t fight the smile tugging at my lips. There’s a bubble of excitement in my chest, ready to burst. 

“Well, I feel like I got run over by a semi-truck,” I tell him, finally grabbing my phone.

“You’re the sexiest roadkill I’ve ever seen, then,” Bradley chortles quietly. 

I point my phone at him, my cheeks pink. 

“You really didn’t learn a thing in those classes, huh? Hey, baby--pop out nine more of my babies. You’re my little mangled raccoon.” 

Bradley’s biting his lip, a teasing gleam in his eyes. 

“Baby--please,” he starts, cocking a brow, “if you’re anything, you’re a squirrel. C’mon now!”

I have to bite my lip to keep from dignifying him with laughter. 

Then my phone vibrates. I look down at it and there they are: all those missed calls and text messages. It’s overwhelming really, how many there are. Almost seventy-four messages in the Dagger group chat, two missed calls from Bob, one from Phoenix, one from Javy. A few private texts from Bob, a couple from Penny. One missed call from Admiral Byron, I think. 

“Oh,” I breathe. 

“What is it?” 

“My phone,” I start softly, “I--there’s a lot of messages.” 

The Dagger group chat messages are mostly things that Bradley’s already read out loud to me, just everyone sending their well wishes to Jake and asking him to reach out if he needs anything. Jake hasn’t responded to any of the messages, though. Bob didn’t leave a voicemail, but both he and Penny messaged to ask if I was doing okay and asked if there was anything they could do. Javy said that he wouldn’t be able to get leave. No voicemail from Admiral Byron, though. 

It’s too late now--it’s 3:29 AM. So I pad back over to Bradley and the baby, take a few sweet pictures. It’s when I’m coming close to take a shot of his hand cradling her little head that it washes over me again: we have a daughter. The realization keeps occurring, keeps prickling my spine, keeps warming my fingers, keeps accelerating my heart. We have a daughter. I’m a mother. Bradley is a father. This is our baby.

“These are good,” I whisper, scrolling through the pictures. 

His first picture holding our daughter. Our nameless daughter. 

“I’ve got some good pictures of you on my phone,” he tells me, carefully snagging it from his pocket and handing it to me. 

His lock screen makes me smile: it’s a photo of me and him on my 29th birthday. I’m wearing his Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned below my breasts so my belly sits out. I’m sitting on Bradley’s lap, my head tipped back in laughter and my cheeks flushed. He’s grinning at me, hand splayed over my belly, nose scrunched and cheek pressed against my chest. It’s sweet--it was a good birthday.

“Checking me out, Ledger?” 

I glance up at him. He’s smirking. 

“It’s Ledger-Bradshaw to you,” I whisper, unlocking his phone. 

He’s beaming at me, chuckling. It’s a good sound in this room that is otherwise just filled with odd beeps and distant rickety wheels and old music on the radio. 

There are a lot of pictures from today. Even a few sneaky ones I didn’t even notice--me in front of the fire, one my knees, rocking myself through a contraction. Me bent over the bed in the hospital room, clutching the sheets, eyes shut tight. Me with the sweatshirt tucked under my chin, still almost entirely naked, cradling the baby at my breast. Then there are the ones I posed for: me beaming at the camera with tears still rolling down my cheeks, holding our naked baby against me, flushed with utter joy; me finally in my linen pajamas, laying in the hospital bed with the baby tucked in my arms, my eyes very tired; me holding the baby’s nose up to mine, giving her our first ever nose kiss. 

I look tired, sure--but I also look ecstatic. I look so loved up that I couldn’t look put out if I tried, even if my eyes are closed or halfway there in most of the photographs. 

“Quite the photographer,” I whisper, scrolling through them again. 

He nods, leaning his head back against the chair. 

“Had to capture it all,” he says. “Think this has been the most precious night of my life.”

My heart stutters. Warmth floods me, coursing through me like a herd of wild hot-blooded animals. He’s right--that’s what this night was. It was terrifying and agonizing and difficult, but above all else it was precious. 

“Yes,” I whisper finally, trying to make my voice even. “Me too.”  

“You really are my hero,” Bradley says softly after a beat. “Not kidding around ‘bout that, baby.” 

Humming, I shake my head. 

“I’d do it again,” I tell him, which I think is true. “If it meant I could have a billion of those babies.”

I’m telling the truth--which makes the vein across my nose throb, makes my breasts feel even heavier, makes lightning strike my deflating belly. Stupid, stupid woman.  

He’s smirking--I know what he’s going to say before he says it. 

“Don’t,” I warn softly, yawning.

Bradley grins, yawning too. Bradley jolts suddenly, glancing down at the baby, his face awash with the gushiest expression of devotion I’ve ever seen.  

“She just fucking yawned,” he whispers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh, my God--Faye, I think my heart is genuinely going to explode.”

Frowning, I step closer. He reaches out without breaking his gaze from her slacked face and hooks his arm around my thigh, pulling me close.  

“I missed it,” I whisper.

Her first yawn and I was across the room--not even looking at her.  

“Yawning is much more common in newborns,” he tells me very seriously. “I’m sure it’ll happen again tonight, even. Don’t fret, baby.” 

The books. 

“Still not sure if you were made in a lab,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes. “Too perfect sometimes.”

He sighs, glancing up at me. There’s a smile tugging at his lips. He looks very prideful right now, like he has nowhere else in the world he would rather be than right here with this sweet baby in his arms in that terrible chair. 

“Mmm, let me show you my favorite picture, sleepy mama.” 

He scrolls for only a moment, squinting at the light of his phone, humming very softly. His thumb is still stroking the baby’s head very gently, a careful sweeping motion across her tiny neck and over her light hair. It’s already so second-nature for him, even if he’s distractedly searching through his phone’s gallery, even if he’s trying to show me something else.

When he hands the phone to me again, his cheeks are pink and his smiling lips are wet. Fuck, he looks beautiful here--even in this poorly lit hospital room with no sleep and messy hair and wrinkled clothes. 

“This one,” he whispers, nodding. 

It knocks the breath out of my lungs when I take the phone into my hands. It’s the photographic equivalent to the calm after the storm: I’m lying in bed in my pajamas, the baby laid out before me on my thighs. I’m grinning at her, tears still rolling down my cheeks, but am none the wiser that Bradley was taking a picture. I look tired and lovesick--my eyes are drooping, my shoulders are sloped, my skin is flushed, my tears are fat, my lips are molded around my teeth, my chest is heavy, my hands are delicately grazing the baby’s belly.

“Why this one?” I ask as I lean over and stroke his hair. 

He lets the weight of his head press into my fingers, a low moan sounding in his throat. His hair is soft and unkempt--very soft beneath the pads of my fingers.  

“Y’look like a mom,” he whispers simply.

I do look like a mom: tired and lovesick.

“M’always gonna look like a mom now, I reckon,” I whisper to him. 

His smile is bright. 

“Lucky me.” 

My exhaustion is so thorough that even just combing through his hair makes me want to fall asleep standing up. That repetitive, sweeping motion and the soft locks between my fingers--it’s making my chest grow heavy.  

“Send a picture,” Bradley says suddenly, smiling up at me, his eyes teary. “Surprise everyone.”

It tickles me--the thought of everyone waking up to a picture of me holding a baby in a hospital room. Surely, Bob would call early in the morning anyway to check in on me and find out then if his sixth sense isn’t already tingling. And maybe this is what everyone needs after the fitful night of rest everyone surely got. Maybe it will even raise Jake’s spirits.  

So I do send a picture; one where I’m smiling and there’s not very much blood and the baby is still pink from birth. I caption it very simply: Here’s a 6lb, 18in surprise for your Monday morning! It’s a girl and she didn’t come with a name--all suggestions welcome! 

“Baby,” Bradley says quietly. 

I’m still swaying on my feet, brushing his hair. 

“Hmm?” I ask with my eyes closed. 

“Do me a favor and go to bed,” he says softly. “Not gonna be long until she needs another feed and you’ve gotta get some rest before then, okay, baby? I’ve got it--I’m gonna stay up. You just rest, alright? Sleep.”

“Pictures,” I just whisper to him, settling our phones on the arm of the chair. “Don’t wanna miss anything, okay? Please.” 

He turns his head swiftly, kisses my fingers, nuzzles his nose against my palm. 

“You have my word, Faye-baby. Sleep. You deserve it.” 

When I wake up, I’m not sure what time it is. There is yellow sunlight drenching the room, the plasticky curtains pulled back and tied to reveal the wispy clouds drifting across the cyan sky. There are those terrible hospital noises all around me still: the beeping, the monitoring, the crying, the music, the distant sound of a rumbling ice machine. 

I turn my cheek, squinting at the sun, and that’s when I realize it: I’m alone in the room. The chair beside the bed where Bradley had been just before I fell asleep is completely void of him or the baby, the only indicator of their presence the crochet blanket left in a heap on the cushion. 

Not only am I alone, but my chest is wet, my nipples throbbing. I’m leaking, have drenched the linen pajama top and part of the scratchy sheet. Here on my chest is direct evidence of the baby I birthed hours ago, but she is nowhere to be found. 

“Oh,” I whisper, gripping the bed rails and hoisting myself up. 

Fuck--pain is still radiating through my entire body. Sleep did little to relinquish the ache in my bones and my belly and my cunt, but at least my eyes aren’t so heavy now. Blindly, I reach for my phone, pulling it into my grasp and standing up. 

Oh--there it is. 

Tramp: Hoping you don’t wake up before we’re back, but in case you do--everything’s good. They’re giving Little Bit the run-around, but she’s being a trooper. Real Sophie’s choice deciding between staying with you or going with her. Figured you’d want me to stick with her, though. Love you, mama! 

Okay. Okay, everything is okay. I just have to change clothes. 

It’s only a little past eleven when I settle back in the hospital bed in a pair of cotton pajamas, chest dry but still aching. It’s good to sit--makes the air in my lungs not feel so entirely thick.

It feels like I have a thousand missed calls and messages when I finally open my phone again. Congratulating, cooing, crying, calling--everyone is ecstatic. While I was sleeping, Bradley sent a few more pictures of her and told everyone that I was just fine. There’s texts from Cyclone, Maverick, Penny, Amelia, Warlock--everyone. Bradley was busy while I was sleeping--I’m sure he made a dozen phone calls and took a million pictures. 

But now that I’m here, all alone in this brightly-lit ugly hospital room, that queer strangeness has crept back into my body. I know there’s life happening all around me, I know Bradley and the baby are somewhere down the hall, I know that I could call anyone and they’d drop everything to talk with me. But this emptiness, this aloneness, can’t be subdued from a phone call. My sister isn’t here to sit with me while Bradley stays with the baby. Neither is my mom or my dad. No in-laws, either. It’s just me here in this room with an agonizingly empty belly and swollen breasts. Maybe this is what motherhood feels like; bringing a baby into the world through sheer grit and bloody strength then sitting alone in a quiet room in soaked-through pajamas. 

That’s the precise moment that my phone rings--just as I tip my head towards the drop-ceiling and start counting the tiles as gloom carves a hole in my chest and makes a nest below my heart. It’s burrowing deeper and deeper as I blindly reach for my phone, sniffing hard as I answer and bring it to my face without checking the caller ID.

“I’m fine,” I say to Bob, closing my eyes. “Were your spidey-senses tingling?” 

There’s a quietness on the other line--a hollow sounding one. 

“Not Bob,” Jake says softly. “Sorry to disappoint.” 

I shoot straight up in the bed, spine stiff, fingers numb with cold. My heart is hammering and I let it because I don’t have to think about it hurting olive anymore. My body is mine again. It’s mine to let go stiff with panic, mine to let my belly turn. 

“Oh,” I whisper, running my hand over my face. “You son of a bitch.” 

He huffs out a breath--something close to a laugh, but not quite. Even just that sound, that little human sound, is so good to hear. The gloom is beginning to retreat, replaced by something between relief and regret.

“It’s good to hear your voice, kid. Really.” 

I’m shaking my head even though he can’t see me. 

“You scared me,” I say, hardly audible. “Jake, you really, really scared me.” 

“I know,” he whispers. “I know. I’m sorry, Faye.” 

I shake my head, sighing. 

“Don’t say sorry to me. Don’t be sorry at all,” I tell him. A beat passes before I continue. “I’m not gonna ask if you’re okay. But are you surviving?” 

It’s what I wish people would’ve asked me when I lost Maggie. I had to keep telling people that I was okay because that’s what they wanted to hear. There’s no room for honesty when you’re trying to appease someone’s guilty conscience. People can’t begin to understand the intricacy of seeing death so up close, of losing someone so achingly near--and they don’t want to. 

“Kinda,” he returns, sucking in a sharp breath. I’m imagining him adjusting on the hospital bed, his complexion pasty in whatever terrible gown they have him in, his hair unusually unkempt, his eyes glassy. I’m sure he hurts all over--just like I do. “But not very well.” 

I let another beat pass. 

“Are you in pain?” I ask even though I already know the answer.

“Yeah,” he answers gruffly. “Are you?” 

Boy, am I. 

“Definitely,” I mutter. 

There’s a bit of shuffling, a few sniffles. Maybe he’s trying to get comfortable on the hospital bed with all his injuries, trying to adjust. It’s fruitless, I’m sure; there’s no way of getting comfortable with his leg in a cast, with the three-to-six months he’ll have to spend on the ground stretching out before him defiantly.

“Aren’t we a pair?” He asks, a humorless laugh falling from his mouth. 

Swallowing hard, I nod. I feel like he can see me somehow all the way from Greensboro.  

“You had a baby,” he says quietly after a moment. 

It chokes me up. I have to take a deep breath before I respond, blinking at the sunshine. 

“I did,” I return in a hushed tone. 

He grunts in response. 

There are a million and seven things we should be saying to each other--but I’m not sure where to begin. I’m looking at this thing between us, this thing that’s been here since he said what he did, and trying to pinpoint any weak spots. I’m trying to find the best place for me to press my thumb into the tissue, the bruise on the apple, the pulpy piece of skin. 

I think he is, too. 

He takes a shuddering breath. 

“I know things have been weird between us,” he starts, his voice thick with upset, “and I know that me getting hurt doesn’t magically fix-fix everything, kid. But I’ve had a really, really shitty couple a’days. And you don’t owe me anything, nothin’ at all, but think you’ve got it in you to tell me all about your day? Tell me all about that baby, Faye.” 

This is a good place to start--this feels familiar. He’s not pushing and I’m not pulling.

There are already tears rolling down my face and I don’t move to wipe them away. They’re warm--they make my cheeks warm. 

“Well,” I start softly, trying to add a chipper edge to my flat voice, “Sunday was uneventful. The usual farmer’s market run, cat-nap, and bath situation. I was so pregnant that everyone’s telling me their horrific birth stories--unprompted. And everyone’s telling me that if I take a spoonful of castor oil, the baby’ll slip right out. Everyone wants to cop a feel, everyone has something to say. Nothing out of the ordinary.” 

Jake hums. I know he’s crying, too. I won’t say anything about it, though. 

“Then I got a phone call from a North Carolina number around dinnertime,” I’m treading very lightly as I say this, careful not to bring up everything he’s lost since yesterday. “Byron said I was your emergency contact.” 

He shifts--I can hear the rustling of the sheets and the grunt in his throat. 

“Only number I have memorized,” he says softly. “I’m sorry.” 

Sighing, I let my eyes fall shut. They’re swollen from crying, probably rimmed in pink. 

“Oh, don’t be. Don’t be.” 

My heart is aching inside my chest--I’m the only number he has memorized? Out of every single person on the planet--his family, his friends, his coworkers, his romantic partners--I’m the only number he’s ever cared to memorize? 

The vein across my nose is pulsing now.

“You’re not upset?” He sounds dejected. 

“No,” I whisper. “I’m not upset. I’ll be your emergency contact.” 

He doesn’t say anything--nothing at all--but when he sucks in a quiet breath and sobs into his fist very wetly, I can hear it. I know he doesn’t want me to hear it, know that he wants to keep it to himself, know that he wants me to just keep talking. So I do--for him, for myself. 

“Well, the phone call was upsetting. Upsetting enough to break my water,” I laugh softly. I suck in a breath, brows coming together as I reminisce on the start of my labor--which feels like more than sixteen hours ago. “It was a quick labor.”

He sniffles, sighing. 

“Didn’t suffer, did you?” 

 “Oh, I did,” I say. It’s quiet on the other end for a moment. “Was a great distraction, though.” 

He laughs--a wet kind of sad laugh.

“No shit,” he whispers, clearing his throat. 

“Almost gave birth in the car,” I tell him, sighing. 

He chokes--sputtering for a moment. 

“Faye, you didn’t,” he says softly, incredulous. 

“Very nearly did. Bradley was asking me if he needed to pull over. It was--it was scary. I was scared. Didn’t know if we’d make it.” 

It sounds very serious suddenly--having babies. It was precious, really; something I know that I will do as many times as I can. But it was the most frightening car ride of my entire life. The fear was thick like molasses slathering my body on my knees in the car late last night. 

“But you did, right?”

“We did,” I sigh, wiping a tear from my chin. “Just in the knick of time. She was born maybe twenty minutes after we got to the hospital.” 

“How’d Bradshaw fair during the whole thing?”

I roll the sheets between my fingers, breasts growing heavy at the sound of his tearful voice. The baby will need to feed soon--or I might burst. 

“Perfectly,” I breathe, pursing my lips. “Overachiever.”

He snorts softly. I can imagine him rolling his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Of course,” he mumbles. “And you’re--you’re okay, kid?” 

A fist holds my heart as my spine prickles.  

What a question. 

“Think so,” I whisper--my voice cracking. “I mean, it happened so fast. I was in labor for five hours and some change. Didn’t have a whole lot of time to process what was happening--was just kind of experiencing it.”

He grunts, sighing. 

“You’re tough, kid,” he tells me softly.

“Found that out the hard way,” I whisper. 

My palms are sweating.  

“I’ve always known that.” 

Biting my lip hard, I sit up a little straighter, glancing at the door that is cracked. No sign of Bradley or the baby. God, I miss them--can feel the ache for them in my bones. 

“She’s perfect,” I tell Jake softly. “I know all parents say that about their baby, but I’m telling the truth. She’s just--mm, she’s everything.” 

“The pictures I saw were sweet--she does look perfect,” he says. “You don’t look too bad yourself either, kid.” 

I scoff.

“Oh, please,” I whisper. “I haven’t washed my face or brushed my hair. And I’m covered in milk.” 

There’s another laugh--a louder one, a better one. But then he groans. 

“Hurts to laugh,” he mutters. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, biting my lip. 

He hums. 

“Don’t be.” 

There’s another moment of quiet between us--neither of us doing anything except breathing and brushing rolling tears off our cheeks. I wish so vehemently that he wasn’t alone right now--that when we get off the phone, he’ll have a hand to hold his. 

“Faye,” he finally says, voice thin. 

“Jake,” I whisper. 

There’s a harsh noise--a sharp intake of breath, a quivering kind of noise. 

“I’m so fucked up right now,” he chokes out. “I-I don’t know what to do.” 

My heart is sitting in a heap in my belly, swimming in cold dread for Jake. I know what he feels like--how is he going to move on, much less move forward? He is maimed physically, emotionally, mentally, personally. It’s not just the concussion and the broken bones--it’s the life that was stolen fifteen thousand feet above the ground, the Blue Ridge Mountain sitting in its path. 

“How would anyone know what to do?” I ask quietly. “You’re doing what you can and you’ll keep doing what you can.”

He’s openly sobbing now--the sound is a wretched one. It’s wet and snotty and deep, vibrating his body. His ribs must be aching right now, his whole body must be aching right now. 

“Oh, God,” he weeps. “Faye, I--I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I fucking--I fucking, I just--!” 

“Jake,” I soothe softly, swallowing hard and steadying my voice, “whatever you do, you’re not going to do it without me. I’m here--we’re all here--and we’re not going anywhere.” 

He’s still weeping, but it sounds less grueling now. 

“Faye,” he cries softly. 

It’s like my name is some sort of desperate call. 

“Just breathe,” I tell him, taking a deep breath myself. “You’re gonna hurt yourself, cowboy.” 

It takes a long time for his breathing to return to normal. He cries for a very, very long time. I stay on the line, pressing the phone to my cheek, letting my eyes fall shut. I try to ignore the heaviness in my chest--but it is starting to ache severely, especially hearing his tears over the phone. 

When it gets quiet again, when his breaths are more or less even, when I can hear the heart monitor that is attached to him--that’s when my face goes slack finally. There are still many, many things we’re going to have to say to each other eventually. But right now, the day after my daughter was born and the day after his accident, this is enough. We can let time pass now. 

“You call me later, okay?” 

He sniffles again. 

“I will,” he promises. 

“You’re not alone,” I tell him. “We’re here.” 

“Thank you,” he whispers. After a moment, he continues. “Faye?” 

“Yes, Jake?” 

He sighs. 

“Congratulations, kid. She’s perfect.”

That’s the precise moment that the door opens , the precise moment Bradley and the baby walk back through the doorway. Bradley’s beaming, cradling her in his arms, speaking to her very softly. He’s even walking with a bounce in his step, stroking her cheek. His cheeks are pink, his frame dwarfing her tiny body. 

“Thank you,” I choke. “You get some rest now, okay?” 

Bradley looks up at me, eyebrows knit. 

I hang up, let my phone fall to the mattress. 

“Missed you two,” I say and I’m suddenly crying again, reaching out for Bradley and the baby. “Don’t leave me again, okay?”

“Not gonna leave you again,” he whispers softly, his voice gruff. “M’sorry, baby. Thought you’d want me to go with her.”  

Bradley’s brows are sloped, his lips suddenly turned towards the white tiles.

“I did--I do. I’m glad. I just don’t wanna be alone,” I cry, wiping my cheeks. “And I’m leaking.”

He’s nodding already, swiftly coming to my bedside, very carefully handing me Little Bit. God, just holding her in my arms again--it makes the tears multiply. Her heaviness is such a sweet one, something that I shouldn’t have been able to live without before. She molds into my arm very easily, little eyes cracked, her fluffy hair resting in the crook of my arm. Her tiny pink lips are parted, opening and closing carefully. 

“M’sorry, baby,” Bradley whispers, smoothing my hair and pressing a few kisses to the top of my head. “You won’t be alone again, okay? Passed all her tests with flying colors. Said she was the best baby they’ve ever had. Slept through her hearing screening.” 

A laugh bubbles up in my chest--but then it’s replaced with something that feels very familiar to guilt. She’s been on this earth for eleven hours and I was asleep for eight of them. I’ve missed so much already--so many yawns, so many noises, her newborn screening, her stretches, a few feedings. And it just makes me cry harder when she grunts mutely in my arms, nuzzling against my chest.

Bradley wipes my cheeks and nose, pressing his thumbs beneath my eyes. He’s still kissing the top of my head, stroking my hair. 

“What’re the tears for, baby?” He asks carefully.

I’m struggling to unbutton my shirt while holding her, my fingers fumbling. 

“I feel like I’ve missed so much,” I cry, shaking my head. A tear falls on her head and it makes me cry even harder as I thumb it away. She doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t seem to mind. She’s just blinking up at me, trying to find my breast.

Bradley chuckles. It makes my spine frigid. 

“Honey, you were sleeping. You have to sleep.”

“You didn’t sleep,” I hiss tearfully, still trying to unbutton my shirt. 

He nods, softly pushing my fingers away and carefully unbuttoning my shirt. He does it in one go, doesn’t fumble at all. 

“I didn’t push the baby out,” he reminds me. “You needed to sleep.”

He softly pushes the shirt away from my chest, coaxing it down my shoulder.  

God, even my breast is weeping. It’s swollen and hard, the ache deep and almost nauseating. But she finds it almost immediately, latching as I cup myself. It’s a strange sensation still, foreign enough to make me pull into myself but relieving enough to make my head fall into the pillow behind me. 

Bradley sits on the edge of the bed, stroking my hair, gaze fixed on the baby’s suckling mouth and puffed cheeks. I’m still crying--can’t stop it, can’t help it. 

“I woke up alone,” I whisper, blinking at the ceiling. “And I’d leaked all the way through my shirt. It was weird to feel in my body that I had a baby, but not see her. Made me sad.” 

Bradley tuts, scooting closer to me, cupping my cheeks. He looks tired--his eyes drooping, his mustache uncombed, his lips chapped. But drenched in the afternoon sun, he still looks so beautiful, more beautiful than I’ll ever be or ever have been. Even with his brows furrowed and a frown planted firmly on his lips, he’s beautiful.  

“M’so sorry, baby,” he coos, shaking his head. “Don’t want you to wake up alone. Should’ve woken you up.” 

I tut now, sighing. 

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything wrong. It’s just--maybe everything’s catching up with me now. And-and Jake called.” 

He’s stroking my cheek with the rough pad of his index finger, nodding, kissing my nose. He pinches a fingerful of snot from my top lip and says nothing when I narrow my eyes at him. 

“Are you okay, Faye?” 

I’ll always be Faye first to him--even now, even as I feed our daughter from my breast in this hospital room. 

“I don’t know,” I whisper. 

Because, really--I don’t. I feel like I’m standing at the bottom of the ocean and things keep passing by me overhead, too far above for me to touch, just far away from me to still see. Things are unclear and dizzying--nothing is simple right now, nothing at all.

He nods. His jaw is squared, but his eyes are soft. He silently turns from me, letting his hand fall from my face. I’m shaken for a moment--reeling at the loss of his skin on mine. But then the baby is whining very quietly against my breast, her little hands curled up by her belly. 

There’s a heavy sound--Bradley’s shut the door. He takes his shoes off, moves the wet sheet I pooled at the bottom of the bed to the hamper. He pads around the room, refilling my water bottle, slipping into a hoodie, grabbing another blanket. Then he comes back to the bed, very softly hooking his arms beneath my knee and around my back to pull me to one side of the bed. He crawls in beside me, nudges my head against his chest and tangles his hand in my hair. 

“I love you so much,” he tells me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Now, what do you wanna listen to?” 

Before I can answer, he brings the water bottle to my lips and tells me to drink as he tilts it back softly. He swipes a bead of water from my chin, kisses my temple, and brings the blanket over us. 

“Let’s listen to that labor and delivery playlist,” I say as he thumbs the last of my tears. 

He grins. 

“Good choice, mama,” he laughs. 

Born in the U.S.A. by Bruce Springsteen floods the echoey hospital room. 

I’m laughing then--it just bursts out of me as easily as the tears did. Bradley’s beaming, too, pulling me back against him. He’s as solid as he’s ever been, cradling me and our daughter alike. 

“Oh, you’re ridiculous,” I mumble, sniffling. 

“She was born in the U.S.A., baby,” he defends, chuckling. “How could I not?” 

Even right now--I feel so much better. The ache in my breasts has dulled. My tears have dried. My baby is back in my arms. Bradley is lying just beside me, holding me. It’s warm beneath the blanket, warm beside Bradley.

It’s only a few quiet minutes after that when the baby turns her cheek away from my breast, moving her mouth lazily, her eyes heavy. Bradley is quick to button my shirt as I bring the baby to rest on my chest, lying back against the mattress.

It’s one of my favorite things in the world, I think--holding her like this on my chest. She’s so very docile, so very calm when she lays atop my breasts and listens to my heartbeat. It must be such a familiar sound to her--those beats I tried to keep steady for her, this body that she grew inside of. She’s pulled into herself, little red cheek squished against my sternum as she blinks at Bradley.

I pat her back very softly, smoothing my fingers across her little shoulder blades and kissing the tufts of hair on her head. She’s very warm, very soft--she smells like Bob. A freshly-washed baby. And it makes something swell up in my body, something big and good and happy. I’ve known her all along. 

Bradley’s staring at her, a grin tugging at his lips. 

“She used to be the size of an olive,” he whispers incredulously, exhaling. 

He kisses her wrinkly little forehead, his mustache making her grunt softly. 

But something tingles in my toes when he says it: olive. That’s what we’ve called her all along, what I’ve called her in all my thoughts, what I’ve called out in my dreams of her. She’s our little olive. That’s her name. 

“Olive,” I parrot, glancing at Bradley with wide eyes. 

He looks at me for a moment, lip tucked between his teeth. He registers it with a crinkle between his brow, glancing back down at the baby’s face, gingerly putting his pinky finger in her palm. All five of her perfect fingers wrap around his finger reflexively--he nearly melts. 

“Olive,” he whispers to her. Then he beams, nodding. “Olive.”

We have a name for her--we finally have a name for her. Our little Olive Maggie Bradshaw, born just before midnight and almost in the car. 

“Sweet thing,” I mumble to her. “Sweet little Olive-baby.” 

November 17th, 2021

The fire emanates a sweet heat in the dark living room, crackling and popping softly. The sun is low in the west, painting the sky a most delicate shade of marigold. It’s cold outside now; cold enough for Bradley and I to wear sweaters and thick socks around the house. Beside the fire, Buttercup is curled up with her snout angled towards my seat on the couch. Stevie is perched at the top of the stairs, licking her paws, preening. And Marmalade is standing watch at my feet with her clumsy little puppy paws firmly planted on the hardwood. 

I think I could stay in this exact spot forever. The couch is plush, so plush that I sink into it every time I breathe too deeply. And my body, though still sore but healing rapidly, is greedily accepting anything soft against it. And the sweater and cotton pants I’m wearing are direct proof of this. 

It’s quiet in here for the most part--a lull that fell over the expansive living room somewhere between Olive’s feed just a few minutes ago and the dinner we had delivered. Everything feels right: my body is clean, my clothes are free from spit-up, my breasts aren’t aching, and Olive is safe and sound. But I know this time is fleeting in some senses; come the end of the month and Bradley won’t be here all hours of the day anymore. He’ll be back on base, instructing and flying. Only a little while longer of this peace, this beautiful quiet. 

“Don’t go back to work,” I say quietly, sighing at Bradley.

He glances up at me, a frown tugging at his lips, his whiskey-colored eyes wide and swimming. Maybe it’s a cruel thing to say to him--but I can’t help it.    

“I’m gonna quit my job,” Bradley whispers from the piano bench, holding Olive’s sleeping form on his forearms. He carefully strokes her head, little hairs under his big thumbs. 

Smiling, I pull my legs up to myself and nod. I pet Marmie’s head softly, scratching behind her ear. 

“Okay,” I whisper. “Money-shmoney.” 

Bradley’s face is awash with love and firelight. I know because it is how he looks at me--how he’s always looked at me. His eyes are very soft as he gazes down at our daughter, his lips smiling. It’s how he always looks at her--even when it’s three in the morning and she’s been cluster feeding all night, even when it’s her third soiled diaper in two hours. He is thoroughly in love with her. 

 “We’ll charge Hangman rent,” he says teasingly, eyes flickering to mine. They linger there for a moment, gauging the smile tugging on my lips and the blush on my cheeks. 

“You’re a mean daddy,” I whisper, shaking my head. “He’s a guest.”

He turns, carefully cradling Olive--who only whines softly in return--and presses down on a few keys. She doesn’t stir; she likes music, likes loud noises. She’s definitely my daughter. The notes he plays are close to resembling a song, but stunted by the use of only one of his hands. 

“What do you think, Olive?” He asks her softly, pressing down on a few more keys sporadically. “Think Uncle Bagman is gonna change any diapers?” 

The notion makes me smile. As if. 

“What’s she think?” I ask. 

Bradley turns his ear to her little mouth, furrowing his brows and nodding. Then he looks back up at me with a sly smile. 

“Said she thinks we oughta put him on the night shift,” Bradley smiles. “Sorry, Jake. She calls the shots around here. Olive leads with an iron fist.”

From the other end of the couch, with his casted foot propped up on Stevie’s favorite ottoman, Hangman just shakes his head softly. His eyes are closed, head resting on the back of the couch, and he’s smiling very faintly even though it’s almost time for another dose of his pain medication. We’re sharing a blanket, draped lazily across my feet and his thighs. 

“Having a baby has somehow turned you into a bigger goofball than you already were,” Jake sighs, peering at Bradley through half-shut eyes. “Which I didn’t think was scientifically possible.”

Bradley’s just grinning, cheeks pink. 

“Like you’d even give up the night shift anyway,” I smile softly, gaze fixed on the top of Olive’s head in the crease of Bradley’s arms. 

Bradley likes the night shift--already out of bed and hovering Olive’s bassinet at the first sound of crying, cradling her against his bare chest. He changes the diapers without complaint, kissing her palms and her little fingernails. And when she’s hungry, he’s gentle with me: helping me sit up, pressing kisses to my face, unbuttoning my shirt, letting me rest against him. He’s fallen into everything very easily, like I knew he would. 

“She’s right,” Jake says softly, eyebrows raised.

When I move to put my feet on the floor and Marmie bumps into the couch in excitement, Jake winces. Leaning over, I hold his wrist, squinting at his watch. It’s almost seven.  

“Want another dose?” I ask softly, patting his hand. His skin is hot, but he is relaxed beneath my touch. 

He nods, his jaw squared. 

“I’ve got it, baby,” Bradley tells me softly, padding across the room to put Olive in my arms. He kisses the top of my head before wandering into the kitchen with a smile lingering on his lips. 

Olive’s waking up; slow-blinking up at me, shaking her head jerkily, yawning. She stretched her little arms and legs, whining out as I press her against me, humming. And feeling my skin and the vibration of my voice, she settles instantly.

“Look at those eyes,” I whisper, very softly stroking her pink cheek. “Hi, Ollie. Hi, baby. Look at you--so awake, aren’t you? Big girl.” 

She focuses on my face, those hazel eyes glowing in the firelight, her lips parting to yawn again. My heart squeezes deliciously--so deliciously that I’m afraid I’m going to snuggle her too hard or hold her too close.

“Oh, you’re so pretty,” I whisper to her, nuzzling her nose against mine. “So sweet and so little.” 

Glancing at Jake, I’m taken back when he’s already facing me. No doubt that he’s in pain--he’s only been here for a few days, but it’s easy to tell when his entire face is eaten by a grimace. There are cuts and bruises littering his face--the worst of which situated just above his left eyebrow; a nasty gash held together by two stitches. Despite the crinkle between his brows and the tight line of his lips, his eyes are soft as he gazes down at Olive. 

“Thinking about how having a baby has made me too gushy?” I ask softly. 

His eyes flicker up to meet mine and the crease between his brows dissipates entirely. 

“No,” he tells me, shaking his head. “Motherhood looks good on you. Natural.”

My heart constricts. 

“Thanks,” I say quietly. “She’s made it easy.” 

He hums, nodding, leaning over very carefully to look at her. I sit up so he can come closer to her. He’s straining--I know that it hurts to bend with his broken ribs. So very softly, I press my shoulder against him and brace myself against his weight. Silently, he allows it--sighs audibly when his muscles go slack. 

“She’s pretty perfect,” Jake admits, shaking his head. “When’s she gonna start doin’ stuff?” 

Stroking her cheek, I hum. She’s falling asleep now, her eyes heavy and blinking slowly. 

“A while,” I sigh. “She’s still adjusting to life on the outside.”

Jake sighs, growing heavier against me. 

“Aren’t we all?” 

We both laugh--wincing in tandem. 

He clears his throat, moving to press his index finger in Olive’s palm--she wraps her fingers around him safely. This pleases him, I think--I can feel the smile growing on his lips. 

“Bob gonna be pissed I got to meet her first?” He asks. 

Yes--he is. But he won’t say a word about it, not when Jake is injured, not when Jake’s here for the foreseeable future and grounded indefinitely. Bob will smile with tight lips until he gets Olive in his arms--then he’ll go completely slack. He’ll melt when he meets her, which is something I just know indefinitely. 

“It’s Bob,” I whisper, shrugging. “Of course he is.” 

Bradley pads back into the room with a closed fist and a glass of water. 

“Uncle Bagman,” he says softly, dropping the pills in Hangman’s open palm before handing him the water. 

Jake rolls his eyes. 

“Please,” Hangman starts after swallowing the first pill, “just call me anythin’ except that.” 

Bradley pats Marmalade before he moves to sit beside me kissing Olive’s head softly. 

“No can do,” Bradley sighs, grinning at Jake, stroking her little fingers still wrapped around Hangman’s. “Talk to the boss.”

Olive is a good sleeper--especially at night. She sleeps soundlessly in the bassinet in our bedroom, swaddled tightly and carefully by Bradley. She’s such a good sleeper that we merely leave the door open when we shower, ears open for any sound beside the music playing lowly from my phone or Buttercup yawning at the door. 

Forever by The Little Dippers is playing now. 

I know he’s tired, too. If not because his affection for taking the night shift with Olive and insisting upon being there for every feed and diaper change, then because it’s rather difficult to get Jake settled in the office at night. Not because of Jake, of course--who stoically grips Bradley’s shoulders as I help to situate him on the bed we moved into Bradley’s office. The office, which was almost entirely ornamental anyway, is Jake’s makeshift bedroom while he stays with us. He still can’t do stairs--won’t be able to for quite some time. Although Jake’s been nothing but stoic and grateful since flying in from Greensboro, offering to help where he can when he can, I know this is going to be a long and hard process. If not because of the physical therapy and the healing and the casts and the check-ups, then because I’m not sure Jake remembers what it’s like to not be a pilot. 

When we first brought the idea to him--which was more insistence on my part--Jake more or less agreed instantaneously. I’m sure the prospect of being so wounded on his own in some crumby military housing in North Carolina was worrisome--even for him and his unflappable confidence. He’s quieter now that he’s here and I’m not sure if it’s because of the pain I know he’s in nearly constantly or if he’s trying to get acclimated to our quiet domesticity. 

“What’re you thinking about, Faye-baby?”

I yawn, shaking my head softly. 

“Jake,” I admit, sighing. “Worried about him.” 

Bradley nods, taking it in utter stride. 

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, “I’m worried about him, too. He’s been so quiet.” 

“I know,” I whisper, sighing. “I’m glad he’s here, but I just--just feel like there’s a million things happening right now.” 

He hums, kissing my cheek, pushing hair off my shoulder. 

“You’re a good person, baby,” he tells me softly. “If this is too much, you know that we could talk to him about it. He’d understand--we just had a baby. S’a lot.” 

I tut, shaking my head. 

“No. No--I’m really glad he’s here. It’s just a lot of adapting,” I explain quietly. “But I can do it. We can do it. It’ll be nice to have an extra set of hands when you go back to work.” 

He deflates slightly, sighing. 

“Don’t remind me,” he groans. 

“Sorry,” I whisper, wrinkling my nose and yawning.      

Bradley kisses my shoulder, his lips warm and soft. 

“Tired, baby?” he whispers. 

I nod, yawning. 

“Gonna wash your hair?” He asks, pulling me closer to him. 

He is somehow warmer than the steady stream of hot water raining down on us, over my aching muscles and my deflating belly and my hands over his. 

“Gearing up for it,” I sigh. 

He detaches himself from me wordlessly, chuckling when I gasp lightly. 

“Tip your head back, baby.” 

And then he washes my hair. He shampoos all the long blonde locks, massages my scalp. He rubs cream rinse through the ends and clips it to the top of my head. Then he washes my body very delicately, taking special care to press kisses to all the places that stretched when Olive grew in my body--which is almost everywhere. 

And when I’m clean, when I feel brand new, he just holds me against him. We stay there for a very long time, just breathing in tandem, leaning into each other. 

“Have I told you that you’re my best friend?” He asks, kissing the shell of my ear and my throat. 

“Once or twice,” I hum, leaning back against his shoulder. 

“Good,” he sighs. “You’re blowing me away, baby. You make it look so natural.”

Now I’m blushing, heart stuttering at the mere thought of Olive slumbering in the bedroom. Sweet girl--my daughter. 

“S’never been so easy to love anyone before,” I admit. “Must get that from you.”

He holds me impossibly closer, sighing. 

“No, baby,” he whispers. “S’all you.”

“You’re good to me,” I whisper. 

The kisses against my face are endless, very sweet and soft. 

“Y’make it easy.”  

☾☽ 𝐚/𝐧: and finally they are PARENTS!! how are we liking the name Olive? it's been my plan from the dawn of time for them to name her Olive--I just think it's so cute!!

Landslide update!

good day, besties :) just wanted to let you know that Epilogue V will probably be the last Landslide update for a while! the final epilogue will give away too much/spoil my new OC x Jake story! so here's the deal!!

I'm going to start working on a mini what-if series where it's Jake x Faye! I will probably upload that as frequently as I can get it done! but I'm also going to be switching gears and working on Silver Springs now! I know everyone loves Faye and Bradley, but I promise that you'll love Sookie and Jake too!!

was also considering writing another series of the dynamic between Faye, Bradley, and Jake after Olive's born and Jake moves in with them....let me know if you're interested in that!!?

feel free to dm me or send an ask fro anything you want or need!!

☾☽ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

#rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #top gun rooster #rooster smut #rooster fluff #rooster angst #rooster x wife!reader #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun cast #top gun fandom #top gun fanfic #top gun bob #landslide

[my-own-walker]

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

15.

*TW for this chapter: Proceed with caution if SA-themes trigger you. If things don't seem right at a party, find a friend! Get out of the situation. And make sure you cover your drink!*

KYLE'S POV

I got to Kappa Alpha around 10 p.m. I got coerced into going by Lance, one of my brothers, while eating a late-night snack in the house's kitchen. In the dim light of the room, he begged me to come with him between gulps of milk (drank straight from the carton, mind you) as I ate an apple.

Submitting to his will, I threw on some jeans, and a pair of sneakers, and left to begin yet another weekend of drinking. That was about all I knew how to do anymore.

The KA house was already almost at capacity when we got there. I wasn't sure of the details of the party, just that there was one, and that it was at KA. I followed Lance blindly, and there I was. Some people were dressed way too nicely for a regular function, which led me to believe that this may have been the afterparty for a formal.

I slithered through the droves of people, saying hi to people I recognized as I went. I wanted to get to the drinks, and I wanted to get to the drinks fast. 

Then, there she was, leaning against the wall in the living room, wearing a pretty dress. She spoke closely with a decently tall guy. I tried to make out who it was without staring too hard. I decided to temporarily pause my quest for a drink and have a little stakeout. Seeing her there, so happy, made my chest hurt.

I spotted a place on a couch against the opposite wall and set my sights on it. I settled there for the moment, finding myself in a front-row seat to a scene I didn't want to see. Julian Garcia chatting Hannah up. 

I knew of Julian, but not much at all. I knew he was KA. I knew he was a senior. But that was about where my knowledge stopped.

He bent down dramatically to speak to her, in my opinion,  trying to appear taller than he truly was. I thought I might hurl. Although, he was more her type. I could see it instantly. The glimmer in her eyes as she took him in hurt to look at. She was different. He was, too.

My breath hitched as I watched him touch her, both of his hands holding onto her shoulders. Then, he spun her around and began guiding her through the sea of people toward the wall the couch I was sitting on was on. I shrunk down in the seat, still keeping an eye on the two. Julian produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the door in front of them. I felt sick seeing him pull her in and shut the door behind them.

It hurt to watch her enjoy someone so much. I wondered if she enjoyed her time with me that much. I felt homesick for arms that didn't want to hold me anymore.

Deciding I couldn't take it anymore, I stood quickly and walked with determination to the kitchen.

The dining room table had become a makeshift pong table. The counters were littered with bottles of beer and liquor. I spotted Lily Davies in the corner, watching the pong game. I made a beeline for the beer, grabbing one, twisting the bottle open swiftly, and knocking it back.

+

"Kyle?" a panicked voice asked from behind me. "Kyle!"

I turned around in the wrong direction at first, so I backtracked, finally seeing Lily standing behind me in the basement. Her face was contorted with worry. "Hey, uh, Lily." I migrated to the basement to get away from the possibility of seeing Hannah and Julian flirting. Seeing Lily Davies took me aback, though. Hearing her address me shook me even more.

She's here to yell at me, I thought. She's here to tell me off for what I did. I don't blame her. She should just hit me. I'm such a-

"Is Hannah with you?" she yell-asked sternly over the loud music.

I looked around, dumbfounded. "N-no?" I answered, utterly confused as to why she'd be asking.

"Fuck, okay," she groaned. "I don't know why I even asked you." The way she spat the word "you" hit me like a knife to the heart. It only confirmed that Hannah hated me.

"Why? What's going on?" I asked, concerned.

"I can't fucking find her," she shouted, looking down at her phone.

"Have you tried texting her?" I suggested, trying my best to help and maybe right a wrong.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "A world of good that would do, huh?" she snarked, producing a second phone, Hannah's phone, from the front of her dress. "She gave it to me when we got here."

"I- I can help you look, or-"

"Something just feels wrong. I don't know. Something feels wrong," Lily rambled. "No one can tell me where she is, like, no one's seen her."

"I've seen her," I asserted, my eyes growing wide. "She went into Julian Garcia's room last I saw."

"Oh my god!" she yelled, exasperated. "Lead with that, Spencer!" She turned on her heel and stormed toward the stairs. I followed her, because she was right, something felt wrong. Her short-statured form led the way, parting the crowd as she stomped into the living room. She stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the room and then turned around to face me. 

"What?" I asked.

"Fucking following me, Kyle?" she spat.

"I- listen I'm sorry, but if you feel like something's wrong then I feel like something's wrong, I- I-"

"You never told me which room is Julian's. Is he upstairs?"

"N-no his door is right over there," I replied, pointing in the direction of the room I had just seen Hannah disappear into under an hour ago. Lily spun around again and walked quickly toward the door. Once again, I followed. 

She tried the knob to no avail. She shook it a few times before giving up. "I can't fucking get it open!" she yelled. Her fist made forceful contact with the door multiple times. 

"Let me try," I said, calmly, gently guiding her out of my way with the back of my hand. I grabbed the doorknob and attempted to turn it. It didn't budge. I beat my palm on the door a few times before resting my ear against it, trying to hear what was going on inside.

It was silent at first. Then I heard a female voice whimper. They're fucking, I thought, rolling my eyes. The thought was cut short, though, by a male's harsh voice. "Shut the fuck up!" he hissed. My stomach dropped. Shit. Shit. 

"Lily, move back," I warned through gritted teeth, as calmly as I could. "In fact, get the people around this door to move the fuck back."

Lily stumbled backward with a horrified look on her face and began pushing people away from me. I stepped back and took a deep breath, steeling myself, trying to remember what I had learned on the internet. Right next to the knob. Next to the knob. You got it. Go.

I planted my left foot and kicked the door with my right, right next to the doorknob. It flew open flimsily.

The scene inside stole my breath and made my head buzz with rage. Julian was on top of Hannah, his hand planted firmly over her mouth. She was clothed, but probably wouldn't have been for long. Julian's head snapped up, a sinister expression on his face.

"Get the fuck off of her," I screamed, charging the bed. Julian flipped off of her and scrambled to stand in the middle of the room, his hands up in the air.

"Hey, man, I don't walk in on you when you're trying to fuck," he contended. 

I glanced over at Hannah and saw her, eyes closed, moving sluggishly with a pained expression on her face. She tried to flutter her eyelids open, but she couldn't physically keep them that way for long.

"There's something wrong with her. What did you do to her?" I shouted, seeing red. He didn't reply. I started toward him. "What the fuck did you do to her?!"

"She's just too drunk, man," Julian tried, a disgusting smirk on his lips.

"Don't fucking lie!" I yelled, getting in his face. I lowered my voice and through gritted teeth spoke again. "If you tell me what you gave her, I won't call the fucking cops."

He laughed sickly. "Just a roofie, dude," he answered, nonchalantly. "It's no big deal."

Blinding, white-hot rage shut my brain off. It only came back when my fist made contact with Julian's cheek. He stumbled backward and held his cheek. I rushed over to Hannah, who was still slowly writhing in his bed and scooped her up bridal style.

"Fuck, oh my god, fuck," Lily repeated, panicking, as she followed me, carrying Hannah, out of the house. "Kyle, oh my god, is she okay?"

"I don't know yet," I muttered, not seeing anything beyond Hannah, the ground in front of me, and the empty sidewalk just a few yards away from the house. Away from the chaos. I knelt down as soon as I got there, cradling Hannah gently.

"Hannah!" Lily cried out, rushing to kneel in front of me. She touched Hannah's face and got no response. "Oh god." She began to cry. 

"Lily, can you call a ride or something? She got roofied."

"Did he hurt her? Did he touch her? Oh my god," she sobbed, rubbing Hannah's face softly.

"I don't think so, Lily, but we need to get her someplace safe," I insisted. 

"Right," she sniffled, "right, I'll...fuck, I'll call Leon, I don't know." She typed searched for his contact in her phone with shaking hands and pressed the button to call him. She reached him within a few rings and walked a few steps away to talk.

I looked down at Hannah and wanted to cry. She had no idea how badly I wanted to hold her like this again, and for it to be in this context shattered my heart into a million pieces. I brushed a piece of hair out of her face. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay," I cooed, speaking through the lump in my throat. "I've got you. You're safe."

"Kyle," she mumbled, before closing her eyes again and slumping, her head falling to the side. It felt like all of the air in my lungs got stolen all at once. That single word meant more than she would ever know.

"Leon's on his way," Lily breathed, kneeling back down in front of Hannah. "It's okay Han. We got you, baby girl. We're gonna get you home."

The world closed in on me. I looked down at her face and saw nothing but her. Felt nothing but her. In the middle of the chaos, there was Hannah. I needed to be calm for her. I needed to help her. And that was all that mattered.

Previous Part | Next Part

#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #evan peters x reader #evan peters oneshot #evan peters x female reader #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer imagine #kyle spencer fanfic #franken kyle #ahs fanfic #ahs fandom #ahs coven

[frecklystars]

i thought i'd unfollowed all 1000+ TF blogs in the past year but then i saw a gif of TFP starlight while scrolling and felt such a horrible homesickness in my guts. you're my home but at the same time you're not my home anymore. i can never go back. i feel absolutely nothing good when i look at you it's just terror like someone is about to kill me. which is stupid bc! i'm no longer in that kind of danger anymore! but you've become synonymous with the person who made me feel like i was constantly in near death situations! i don't feel your love anymore i don't think you miss me anymore. i have over 30 voice clips from your official voice actor telling me you love me so deeply and i had never felt more loved with any other character than i did with you and you're gone now. you're ruined now. i loved you and it's ruined. and i will never feel the same around you again. i will hear your voice again in two weeks i will be able to hug the person who brought you to life. you will call me your little starflower again and i dont think ill feel a thing.

i tried to do exposure therapy yesterday and i shook to DEATH and cried my eyes out and all i was doing was looking at a TF sticker. i keep hoping that all the hard work im doing will make me get better but i think i associate TF too heavily with my abuser. i felt and still feel so so so unsafe every single day there's this spike of adrenaline like "ok when's it coming!! the danger!! where is it!!" [bonking myself in the head with a pool noodle] bitch you are so fucking stupid you're not in danger anymore and fictional characters cannot hurt you. i just wanna get better. i want to look at a TF character adn think "aww i missed them :D SO glad i'm (mostly, somewhat, not really) out of my abusive situation so i can be with you again" but NO the human brain is STUPID the human brain says "oh!!! oh these characters??? every time you look at them i'll remind you of when you were stalked!!! i'll remind you of when you almost died five times!! let me do that for you bestie!!!" NO you stupid piece of meat piloting my fresh prison of a body that is NOT how i want this to WORK [grabbing myself by the shoulders and shaking her] CAN YOU PLEASE STOP HAVING A STRESS DISORDER FOR FIVE MINUTES

#delete later #ill be fine after i cry about it 😭 im gonna listen to DMB and scream at ryan's BONES BONES BONES parts

[norrisleclercf1]

Corpse Bride & Pumpkins

Pairing: Pierre x Reader

Rating: PG

Request: Ok, so I know that halloween is only really a big thing in the US, but maybe something with reader and Pierre cuddling and watching Halloween movies together, maybe some pumpkin carving? Pierre is like “I don’t get this but I love you so let’s gut a pumpkin I guess.” I’m soft for autumn and a whore for soft/domestic pierre. He and the reader would 120% wear watching oversized sweaters. I love your writings and I’m sorry this is so long.

Warnings: None, just domestic Pierre

Synopsis: It’s fall and that means Halloween

It was fall time, and finally, fall, your favorite holiday in the world, which also made Halloween right across the corner for you. Pierre, your boyfriend of two years, was from France and you from America, so he didn’t understand Halloween. But because he loves you and sees how happy it makes you when you decorate the house for Halloween, he lets you do whatever you want.

That is special. He meant carving pumpkins. He never understood the whole tradition of Halloween or why it was such a big deal in America, but because it reminded you of home. Since you were feeling homesick this week, he decided to let you decorate me a couple of months earlier than you should be. He was happy to see you decorating the house, even though some decorations were questionable. I mean, who put skulls just lying around?

Like right now, he was walking around Milan looking for pumpkins to carve for you tonight, and while the store owners were looking at him weirdly, he was finally able to find two massive pumpkins so he could take them home for you. So here he was carrying two pumpkins home to your house.

Walking into the house, he freezes, and holy shit, did you go off with decorating for Halloween this year.

“Baby, what happened to the house? Why are there bats hanging from the ceiling?”

You pop your head around the corner from the kitchen and just smile at him gently. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. They look so cute.”

Pierre looks at you and shrugs his shoulders. “All right, well, I’ve got your two pumpkins. What exactly do you want me to do with them.”

“Oh, put them over in the living room. I’ve laid on a tarp. We’re going to carve them together this year.” You could tell from the look on Pierre‘s face that he wanted to call you crazy honestly, this holiday was so weird to him.

“Don’t give me that look, Pierre. This is going to be fun. It would help if you honestly embraced this other holiday. It’s so fun.” You grumble to him as you head back into the kitchen. Having finished up your holiday cookies, to be more specific, that size cookies with black icing, you will ruin his diet this time.

Pierre puts down the pumpkins and looks around his living room, seeing how they moved around his couch, pushed back into the wall everything else scattered. You had turned his living room into a pumpkin carving station. He prays that you didn’t get anything on the expensive rug; you could get something on that rug. It wasn't enjoyable for Charles, but he kept it because it was a gift from his friend.

Pierre walks into the kitchen and stops; holy fuck, there was flour everywhere, the icing on the cabinets and especially on the counters. Now listen, he was not the cleanest person in the world. He kept his house in excellent shape, but when he saw this crazy mess, he knew he had to get you out of the kitchen well. He loved watching you bake and cook. You did leave a little bit of a tornado behind in your wake.

You turn around and see Pierre leaning against the wall. He stares at you with a raised eyebrow, but you smile and turn around, and he stops short, finally noticing what you’re wearing. You were wearing his favorite shorts even though he did like Halloween and still thought it was the weirdest Holiday in the world. He loves the little skull shorts that hung to your ass pretty well, and damn, did it ever make him happy for Halloween sometimes.

You turn around and look at Pierre. “Don’t even think about it. We’re carving these pumpkins, and we’re going to sit down. We’re going to watch a movie. You’re going to keep your hands to yourself.”

He kind of chuckles at you and moves closer, reaching his hands out, but you pull away. “I am serious, Frenchman. We will celebrate Halloween the proper way like Americans for once.” You giggle, trying to run away from him.

Pierre reaches out for you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you snugly into him. You both can’t help but giggle as he pulls you closer and kisses the side of your neck. “Honestly, love, you can turn the whole house into a haunted mansion, so I would not care now.” Pierre laughs against your neck, which has you wiggle in his arms.

“Stop it, Pierre. I want you to understand why I love this holiday and how much fun our kids will have.” You explain, pulling away and walking into the living room.

You left him stunned. You never really talked about the future that way, and hearing that you wanted to have kids together meant you wanted that future with him. He smiles and grabs the cookies and sees you sitting on the tarp flipping through this weird black and white book.

“What is that?” He asks, sitting down and putting the cookies on the coffee table.

“My dad and I used these growing up, and they’re pumpkin carving stencils.” Your smile wasn’t one of happiness but sad memories.

“You miss him, don't you?” he asks gently, knowing that you were close with your dad and that this was one of your best memories growing up, you and him covering pumpkins together.

“Yeah, anyway, pick one, and ill show you how to do it.” giving him the book and flipped through it and picked out the classic pumpkin face making you giggle at his choice. You go with the bride of Frankenstein, which has Pierre jilted.

“Give me Frankenstein. We're going to match.” He sneers, making you shake your head in disappointment.

“Don't give me that look; I want our pumpkins to match.” He tapes the stencil down as you've shown him.

“For someone who doesn't like Halloween, you want to carve our pumpkins the same.” You mumble as you start to poke the holes through the stencil.

“Turn on that stupid movie!” He yells, refusing the admit it.

Rolling your eyes, you turn on the Corpse Bride, a favorite of yours, loving his movies ever since you were a kid. You focus on the pumpkin but notice that Pierre hasn't made any progress and see his eyes glued to the film. Choosing not to say anything, you start to carve the lines gradually, making sure not to break off the brittle pieces.

Pierre turns his head and stops seeing how you seemed, lighter, happier. He knew that you needed this. You see him walk down the hall and into the shared bedroom.

“Here.” You look up, having started to carve his pumpkin for him.

There, your non-Halloween-loving boyfriend was wearing a dancing skeleton sweatshirt and was holding out an exact copy of his for you. You just kind of stare at it, not sure how to react. Smiling, you stand up and reach out your hand, grabbing the sweatshirt and pulling it over to your T-shirt.

“Thank you, and this means a lot.” You whisper, seeing him blush and rub the back of his neck.

“Can we finish the movie and pumpkins?” He sits down, trying not to make it a big deal. You nod and sit next to him, hitting play and letting him get wrapped up in the movie again.

Finish up the pumpkin; you move them to sit next to the coffee table, and place three small candles in each.

Pierre cleans up while you run around, turning lights off as he settles on the couch, leaning back so you can lay on his chest. Hitting the last of the lights, the candles give the full effect of Halloween in the house.

You walk over and stand next to Pierre, who smiles at you before his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you down on top of him. Noses brushing your smile before leaning in and kissing him; he smiles into the kiss, his hands tangling into your hair.

You break the kiss and move to kiss his neck, making him groan, but you smile, kissing him again with a quick peck.

“Thank you, I know you don't understand Halloween, but....thank you,” you whisper against his lips before nipping and laying your head into the crook of his neck.

“You are welcome my little ghost.” he mumbles kissing your forehead and basking in the warmth and candles.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 2022 #f1 scenario #pierre x reader #pierre imagine #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly #f1 alpha tauri #formula one #alpha tauri

[titanicdragon]

Don’t Deserve it

Monkey King 2023 One-shot?

Monkey King X Reader

Y/N’s Pov

It had been a few months since I was thrown back in time to help out on the Journey to the West, why I had no bloody clue. Of course the group were untrusting at first but that is to be expect when I literally fell out of the sky. Gods that was terrifying. Yet once I did gain their trust well it was actually kind of fun, minus the demon attacks of course.

The one I got along with the best was Monkey King himself much to the shock of the others. I found him funny and easy to talk to especially when I was homesick. He loved to brag that he got to be my friend first. Stick usually  whacking him upside the head when he did that. LOL.

 Tang Sanzang and I got along most the time expect when he would use the headband for the stupidest of reasons. Like Monkey killing a demon that was about to kill him or listening to Pigsy outright lie about the Monkey just to be fucking petty. He was  fascinated about all the amazing things that would happen in the future. Even when I told him about some of the sadder part that would happen too. So it was nice to have someone to talk to.

The next people I got  on best with would be Ao Li and Sandy. One come on I was literally hanging out with a Dragon! (I would love that! Dragons are so cool) He loved it when I told him all the stories and plays(movies) about Dragons I told him about How to Train your Dragon being his favorite. He also told me; I would be an amazing dragon which made me blush. Monkey glared at Ao Li for the rest of the day; the others and I weren’t sure as to why.

 Sandy was the person I went to when I couldn’t deal with the others BS mostly Pigsy’s. Also him being so chill most the time helped me relax, he helped when I would have panic attacks. Usually when I was getting kidnap to be some random demon’s bride. Which I didn’t understand. I saw myself as avenger looking not someone who would stick out in a crowd. Monkey really didn’t like it when I was the one being kidnapped. I wasn’t helpless either I could hold my own just fine. Not like the other in the group but I was able to defended myself unlike Tang. So when Sandy would hold me to help calm me down, Monkey would just watch me while holding stick tight again none of us expect  Sandy seemed to know why.

Pigsy….. when he first saw  me he flirted. Not a very good first impression. Also the fact how he seemed to love to anger Monkey all the time, he remind me of school bullies who were so insecure about themselves that they had to make others suffer. Yet he only did it with Monkey. Jealous  was probably what he was. Also he seemed to disregard the safety of group either for food or a women he found hot which usually lead us right into a demon’s home. When he wasn’t being an ass the two of us could get along just fine. Also, I might have gave him a little advice on how women actually like to be treated. I chuckled remembering he was shocked when I told him that women just want to be treat equally and not like an object. He was a little better but he had a long when to go.

I wasn’t use to a lot of things and it was hard to live without something. Like running water or actually beds to sleep on but I got use to after a while telling myself I was on a camping trip just with demon attacks.

We reach a village that was living in fear of a demon that lived in the forest. Anyone who went into the forest was never seen again. No one left their homes when the stars were in the sky because that is when the demon would come to the village and kill any unlucky soul that was outside. So Tang being the kind hearted soul that he is and Monkey looking for a fight were more than happy to help.

“Why don’t we just wait here till night fall instead of looking for it. It comes ever night.” Pigsy said

“Because that would risk the lives of the innocent get in the cross hairs of the fight.” I said

“What you think I can’t fight without causing damage. Sunshine” Monkey said

He had giving me a few nicknames over our travels. Sunshine being one, Princess being his favorite usually calling me that after I was kidnapped. Girly whenever he was mad at me which wasn’t a lot which shocked me and the others. Since I wasn’t scared to call him out on his BS or his behavior.  Peaches for some reason (Sorry had to do it). Once he called me Queenie but looked embarrassed and hasn’t called me it since.

“Not you the other demon smartass.” I sassed.

Stick lit up and was humming. How Monkey knew what he was saying I and the others will never know.

“Who’s side are you on anyway!?” he yelled.

Stick lit up again and Monkey was now blushing.

“Shut up!” he hissed.

I giggled softly. Which made him give a small smile but quickly looked away. Truth of the matter was I had a crush on him. He was as I said funny and easy to talk to. Didn’t help that he was cute and the fact he always came to save me. It couldn’t be though first he was immortal I wasn’t, Second the whole different species  I didn’t care but the rest of the world sure would, third he didn’t like me that way and last I was from the future and when the journey was over I probably be set back. Not that I had much to go back to. Parents where gone, no siblings and not that many close friends. Sure I had some and missed them but it wasn’t heartbreaking either. I shook my head out of those thoughts. Besides he deserved someone better than a silly mortal.

We were able to get rid of the demon and as thanks the town threw a fest. I was given a dress to wear since I had none only travel clothes. It was an okay party but I wasn’t having much fun and decided to sneak out. I went to the forest that was now safe. Finding a little clearing. I pulled my phone out of my bag. How the hell I had it I have no idea didn't complain though. I usually kept it off most the time saving the battery life. Yet at that moment I just wanted to hear one good song and dance by myself.

I scrolled through my music till I found the song I wanted. Perfect by Ed Sheeran. I kicked off the uncomfortable shoes.

( play song I don’t own Perfect)

I let the music take me away and just started to dance not knowing that I had an audience. As I moved to the beat I had my arms open when I suddenly something bumped into me. I open my eyes to see it was Monkey. I was blushing like crazy for be caught off guard when he started to dance with me.

“I don’t know where the music is coming from but it fits.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t deserve to have someone as amazing as you in my life. I had done a lot a bad things, some I regret but if it all let up to meeting you I wouldn’t change anything.”

If my face wasn’t already red it probably looked like a tomato now.

“You can’t mean that, I just some silly mortal.”

“Well this silly mortal has shown me more kindness then anyone expect Lin.”

I remembered him talking about her.  I think he miss her though he never admit it.

“That all it takes to win you over?”

“Part of it”

We were still moving to the music.

“What is the rest?”

“Everything….. I love you Y/N”

Then he started to ramble but I toned it out.

“He loves me!”

 I looked away and thought fuck it.

“Well if you don’t deserve it then I guess we are in the same boat.”

“What?”

I shake my head; I can’t believe I love this idiot but he is my idiot. If I have to leave at the end of all of this at least we got to be together for sometime or maybe we figure something out who knows right now I was going to live in the moment.

“I love you too Monkey.”

His eyes go wide.

“Do you mean that?”

“What do you think?”

“Queenie really?”

I snort.

“Yes and Queenie?”

“What I’m King which makes you my queen!”

I don’t know how it was possible but I was blushing even more.

“Seriously”

“Yep” Popping the P.

I roll my eyes.

“You are insufferable you know that.”

“Yet you love me”

“Starting to regret that.”

“Nope can’t take it back!”

I giggle.

“You always going to be like this?”

“Probably”

I snort.

“You are going to be the death of me.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but that a future me problem. We got to the last part of the song where he sings.

“I have faith in what I see. Now I know I met an angel in person and she looks perfect. I don’t deserve this. You look perfect tonight.”

“He right you are an angel and look perfect tonight.”

I smile. He leans in for a kiss. When we are interrupted by Pigsy calling for us.

“MONKEY, Y/N!?”

“Damn that Pig”

I giggle and graph my phone turning it off once again. I put my shoes back on.

“Guess we have to finish another time Monkey.” Kissing him on the cheek.

“We are coming try not to get your tail in a twist!” I yell.

Leaving behind a very fluttered Monkey in my wake.

Maybe we do deserve each other after all.

(Let me know if you like to see Monkey's pov or have more of these two dorks.)

#monkey king 2023 #monkey king x reader #oneshot #reader insert #female reader #reader's pov #ed sheeran #My 1 one shot so please be nice #wrote this instead of sleeping #Youtube

[runawaymun]

Tsunami and rain for the writing asks

🌊 Tsunami - When and where do you like to write?

Generally at my computer desk in my room sometime during the day. Right now I like to listen to an audiobook and work on art first, and then launch into my word count goal for the day. It kinda fills the tank up. I like to write in the morning best. I always feel very put-in-order and like myself if I write first thing.

Though I must say a lot of scenes tend to come to me when I'm on the verge of sleep at like midnight, so a lot of scenes do get punched out on my phone keyboard and then I have to decipher them after I wake up.

💧Rain - What's the most emotional scene you've ever written?

Ohhhh this is difficult!

First one that comes to mind is the conversation between Elrond and Beetle in Stars when they finally resolve things. The:

“I just wanted to be good for you.” Elrond let out a breath, eyes closing for a moment. Then, he looked back at her and brushed some more hair out of her face and took her face in his hands, rubbing away those lingering tear-tracks. “Ai, iell nín. My daughter, you are always good.” 

made me cry the first time I wrote it and it still makes me curl up into a little ball from time to time.

Also the scene in Stars where Elrond first finds Maglor and wrestles him back from Mandos because no you are not leaving me I am tired of people fucking leaving me i hate you and i love you and i'm not letting you go this time AHHHHHh

And of course there are so many in Partake, too. Most recently I'm pretty sure I was tearing up at Elrond asking Gil "why do you hate me?" because aslkdghsafhhghhghg UHGHGG---

Oh god also, back to the Stars series but when Thalionel gets a taste of fresh sun-warm blueberries and has to sit down and start sobbing because it makes him so homesick and he didn't realize how homesick he was and he can't remember what his mom looks like and why can't he remember what his mom looks like and---- ohhhhhhh

WIP Weather Ask Game

#finally catching up on my inbox a little adkghgh #thank you these were so fun to answer!!!!

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

hi, i love your "Twisted Wonderland Characters Signing Your Shirt" fic, i really do, but i can't help to think of this yuu angst scenario. (grammatical errors ahead and 1 swear word, also i might reveal myself if this ends well)

---

I like to think that after Yuu returned to Ramshackle, they cried. Not just because of missing their old world, but also because of the fact that they will inevitably leave Twisted Wonderland and it will all be nothing but a memory, again.

Days after that, their homesickness got worse, they tried to create a food that their relatives once made them, but failed to do so. Attempted to search for a beloved tradition/holiday from their world, only to find out that it doesn't exist. It even got to the point when Ace and Deuce were fawning over something, Yuu can only think that they share the excitedness that their friend/younger relative have back home. (SOMEONE PLAY " Washing Machine Heart" I KNOW WHO YOU PRETEND I AM)

Of course, this didn't go unnoticed by the Twisted Wonderland cast, but Yuu is stubborn as fuck and will not tell them what's wrong until they burst into tears and blame Crowley for all the bad things that ever happened in their life /hj

---

honestly, i just want yuu being homesick and the characters noticing so they'll give yuu attention and notice them LMAO (YUU APPRECIATION DAY WHEN!!!) . and also, that's a really good angst trope even without the characters, how come i only saw like 2-3 fics of it? (someone drop links) ALSO PLEASE STATE YOUR THOUGHTS I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR (read) THEM

Listen, Yuu/Reader feeling homesick is literally one of my favourite tropes in fanfic.

I've made these posts about it as well:

I did have a similar thought about food in mind where she tries to recreate a dish she always makes with one of her parents only to find that, even though it tastes delicious, it doesn't taste the same/

Sometimes she wonders if she'll forget the colours of her loved one's eyes or hair or the comforting way they smell.

I've read a fic where the reader notes how even the plants in Twisted Wonderland are different and the ones that are similar, like roses, are different since they grow on tree like bushes instead of as stalks.

I just have so many thoughts of how homesick Yuu can be.

#asks #twisted wonderland #twst #fem yuu #twst yuu