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theemporium · 6 months

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[2.6k] following the aftermath of the impromptu vegas wedding, little leclerc and max navigate married life. and charles is still not coping well with the whole situation.

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“Does this mean I get to sit in the Red Bull garage in Abu Dhabi?”

Charles�� head snapped around, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flaring. And if he wasn’t currently on hold with the fifth lawyer he had contacted in the last hour, you could’ve sworn he would’ve jumped over the bed and smothered you with the pillow you were currently holding to your chest.

“Don’t give me that look,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “Maybe I want a change of scenery. I’m always in the Ferrari garage.”

“You’ve seen the Alpha Tauri and the Alpine garage too,” Charles retorted.

You shot him a blank look. “That’s because you have Pierre watching over me like a stalker.”

“No, he’s just being your friend,” your brother tried again.

“So him barking at the mechanic who was just getting me water had nothing to do with the promise you made him keep?” You countered, watching as a flush of pink spread across Charles’ cheeks.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Liar, Pierre told me about the promise,” you mused, watching as his face burned even brighter at your admission.

As it would turn out, finding a last minute lawyer to completely null and break the marriage was much harder than Charles ever intended it to be. And after he was practically forced to halt his attempts until the race had passed, the high of P2 didn’t seem to thwart your brother’s efforts in completely shattering the connection between you and Max Verstappen.

He had spent every free and waking moment trying to sort out the mess, including now contacting lawyers back in Monaco to get involved. And yet, the boy seemed to be getting nowhere.

“Shouldn’t you be focused on the last race of the season instead of this mess anyways?” You continued as your eyes glanced over at the clock on the wall. “We need to leave for the airport soon. I don’t think they are going to hold the jet because you’re phoning divorce lawyers—even if you’re Charles Leclerc.”

“You seem eager to stay married to him,” Charles grumbled under his breath as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Was this planned? Have you been seeing him for a while now?”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” You shook your head, letting out a huff as you pulled the pillow closer to your chest. “How come Yuki isn’t getting as much shit as I am?”

“Because Yuki is not my sister,” he stated simply, pausing for a moment before he continued. “Plus, Yuki and his partner seem very happily married.”

You perked up a little. “Wait, you know who he married?”

“Well no,” Charles admitted, his brows furrowing together. “But he must be, no? He’s been happy ever since the wedding. They must be keeping it private.”

“Apparently he didn’t even tell Pierre,” you said to your brother, leaning back against the headboard with a sigh. “Maybe he’s embarrassed with who he married.”

“Can’t be more embarrassing than marrying you—OW!”

“Don’t say stupid things then,” you snapped back at him with an innocent smile on your face. “You’re just pissed I got married before you.”

Charles’ glare hardened. “No, I’m pissed because you got married in Vegas of all places.” There was a pause. “And the fact you practically married a stranger!”

“Max is hardly a stranger, you’ve known him since you were like five years old!” You argued back.

“Still a stranger!”

“You are so dramatic,” you commented. “Maman accepted it, why can’t you?”

“Maman is confused,” Charles muttered with a crease between his eyebrows.

You raised your brows. “Did you say that to her?”

Charles’ face paled a little. “Well no—”

Your grin widened.

Charles blanched. “Don’t you dare!”

You cackled as you reached for your phone. “This is payback for disrespecting me and my husband!”

...

“I don’t understand why I have to be blindfolded.”

“It’s a precaution insisted by Christian.”

“Do all wives have to be blindfolded then?”

“The ones with the former name Leclerc do.”

You pressed your lips together to hide your smile as you wrapped your arms around Max’s bicep, letting him lead you into the Red Bull garage with the black cloth tied over your eyes. You knew you probably didn’t have long until Charles came running to drag you out of the Red Bull garage and back to the red side, so you took up Max’s offer in the meantime.

You didn’t count on Christian Horner being two steps away from Red Bull’s very own Christian Grey to his garage guests.

“Does this mean I get to blindfold you when you come to the Ferrari garage?” You asked, your voice lighthearted and your tone teasing.

“It is one of the scenarios I would let you blindfold me,” Max answered and it took everything in you to not suddenly halt your steps.

“Max Verstappen, you little flirt,” you said as you let out a disbelieving laugh, hoping the boy hadn’t turned back to look at you when you could feel your face heating up.

“You’re my wife. Surely I’m allowed to flirt with you now,” the Dutchman retorted, his hands moving to rest over yours as you two finally came to a stop.

“You’re saying you wouldn’t have flirted with me before?”

“That feels like a trick question,” Max snorted before his fingers nimbly undid the knot behind your head, letting the blindfold fall away from your eyes as he stood in front of you with an almost smug look on his face. “But I would have flirted with you if I didn’t think your brother would have my balls for it.”

“So you just married me instead,” you retorted with a smile of your own.

“What can I say, I don’t half-ass things,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“I should have known you give the vibes of a Vegas wedding kinda guy,” you remarked as you blinked a few times, getting used to the shift in light as you began looking around the garage. It didn’t look too different from the Ferrari garage, but it was still intriguing to witness it all.

A different team. A different car. A different work ethic.

After so many years with Ferrari, it felt like being in a foreign country as you stood amongst so much blue.

“What kind of wedding would you have wanted?”

The question snapped you out of your daze, whirling your head around to look at the Dutchman with a curious expression. You waited to see if a witty remark was going to follow, but he continued to stare at you expectantly and you realised he was genuinely waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I mean, I know my mother always wanted me to have a fairytale wedding at some pretty venue in a white dress and—”

“I didn’t ask what wedding your mother would have wanted, I asked what wedding you would have wanted,” Max interrupted, and your lips parted a little in surprise.

“A fun one,” you replied.

Max’s brows furrowed together. “A fun one?”

“Yes, a fun one. You asked me what wedding I would want and it’s a fun one,” you repeated with a nod of your head, smiling a little at the visible confusion written across his face. “Everybody always talks about weddings being so intense and stressful and that’s just…not me. I don’t care about where it is or what season it’s held in. I would just want to be with the people I love and I want to have a good time.”

He nodded, his lips pressed together as though he was processing your answer. “Surely the Vegas wedding fits that.”

“It would have if my family and friends were there,” you said, laughing a little. “Despite the dinner invite, Maman will probably string me up for not getting married with her there.”

Max’s eyes widened comically. “Wait, she was serious about that?”

You snorted. “She’s already sent me the menu.”

“I am actually having dinner with your mother?” Max hissed and, for the first time in your life witnessed with your own eyes, you could have sworn he looked nervous.

“She won’t bite,” you laughed.

“Oh my god, I am meeting your mother.”

“Well, she does want to meet the man I married.”

“Oh my god, I am meeting your mother as your husband.”

...

“Be honest: would you have made me a bridesmaid at your wedding?”

You blinked, looking up from the burrito bowl you had managed to grab from Ferrari’s catering before you looked at the blond across from you.

“Or a bridesman. Whatever you call it,” Logan continued as he looked at you expectantly.

You stared at the American with a fairly blank expression, though it didn’t seem to do much to his eagerness for you to answer the question. Though, you didn’t know why you were surprised about the whole thing. The last week had been Logan throwing random questions at you, Arthur laughing at your facial expressions and Oscar deeply sighing at the whole interaction.

“You weren’t even invited to the wedding,” Oscar pointed out, poking about the salad bowl he had.

“Neither were you,” Logan retorted.

“And thank god for that, Lando showed me the pictures,” Oscar grumbled with his nose scrunched up. “I would have been traumatised for life if I witnessed it with my own two eyes.”

“Hey,” you frowned, kicking your foot out under the table until you hit his shin. “You know what, I’m suddenly excited not to see either of you during the winter break.”

Oscar snorted. “Sure.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Logan piped up, his attention shifting to you once again. “Would you let me?”

“Depends,” you answered honestly as you leaned back in your seat. “Would you want to do a speech?”

Logan scoffed. “Obviously.”

“Then no,” you replied almost instantly.

The boy gaped at you. “What? Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust you,” you stated simply before you glanced over at Oscar too. “Neither of you, if I’m being honest.”

Oscar’s brows furrowed together. “Woah, what did I do?”

“Existed,” you grumbled under your breath, only for the Australian to be the one to kick your shin under the table this time. “Ouch!”

“Not so fun, is it?” He grumbled back at you.

“You didn’t even have a speech at your wedding! Surely no speech is worse than a bad one,” Logan added, far too invested on a speech you doubted he could even write.

“That’s not true. Yuki did a speech,” you told him.

Both boys’ raised their eyebrows. “He did?”

“Probably, seems like something he would do,” you shrugged.

“Or maybe his partner gave it,” Oscar added. “Whoever that may be.”

“I can’t believe he still won’t tell us,” you said with your lips turned downwards. “In the Red Bull garage, Christian even asked him and he just giggled before running off.”

“Maybe he’s a private guy.”

“You were in the Red Bull garage?”

“Your difference in priorities are baffling,” you noted with an amused expression. “Yes, I was in the Red Bull garage. And Yuki being a private person is a load of bullshit. He’s the biggest gossip on the grid, he’s just sneakier than everyone else.”

“Which means he would hide it better,” Oscar pointed out.

“At least Yuki would let me say a speech at his wedding,” Logan muttered under his breath.

“Would he though?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying—”

“You know what, I hope Lando scars you with more photos from her wedding,” Logan threatened, staring at the Aussie with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, my wedding photos aren’t that scary!” You frowned.

“The one of Max’s tongue down your throat says otherwise.”

“I am literally trying to eat my salad, can both of you shut up?”

...

“So, are we gonna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Your wedding.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Ha! Sure!”

Max’s brows furrowed together as he lifted his head, only to find the Australian staring at him already. They had both been huddled in his driver room in between meetings and practise sessions, enjoying some peace and quiet before the social media team tried to rope them into some weird activity. However, what Max assumed would be a mostly silent hangout where he could read over some data quickly devolved into the older Australian making little remarks until he finally gave in and put his tablet down.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing,” Daniel said as he gave the boy a casual shrug, though his grin only seemed to widen in response. Max was about to open his mouth, to tell him that was fine before he returned to his work, but the Aussie already began speaking again. “I just think it’s such a funny coincidence that your childhood crush is now your wife.”

Max froze, his cheeks instantly heating up at his words. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“No? The conversation where you told me you had the fattest crush on Charles’ little sister growing up and used to constantly try to impress her on the karting races she visited doesn’t ring a bell?” Daniel continued, feigning innocence despite the fact he could see Max’s face growing pinker by the second.

“I think you have the wrong person,” Max said as he cleared his throat, suddenly finding his tablet interesting once again even though the numbers and words on the screen were practically gibberish to his whirling mind.

“And the conversation where you couldn’t stop talking about how pretty she was when you bumped into her in the paddock on Charles’ first Formula One race?”

“You must have imagined that conversation.”

“What about the time you ignored that famous actor because Lando told you he flirted with her when he visited the Ferrari garage?”

“I have no recognition of that.”

“And the time you—”

“Is there a point to this?” Max suddenly interrupted him, his face feeling as though it was on fire and his heart beating wildly in his chest and the smug look on his friend’s face was doing little to help the feelings bubbling in his stomach.

“I am just waiting to see when you’re going to admit you masterminded this whole thing,” Daniel said to him, so sure and blunt about the statement.

“I didn’t mastermind anything,” Max said with a frown. “We got drunk and we got married in Vegas. Many people have done it before us. Many people will do it after us too.”

“And the fact she was your first love?” Daniel questioned.

“She was not,” Max scoffed, pausing for a moment before he continued. “And even if she was, I don’t like her like that anymore.”

“Oh, of course,” Daniel snickered under his breath. “So I am assuming you’re rushing to help Charles find a divorce lawyer then?”

Max paused for a few seconds too long. “Yeah, I mean. After the last race, obviously. My focus needs—”

“To be on a race that has no effect on your life other than adding another trophy to your shelf?” Daniel teased. “As if you couldn’t be talking to lawyers on the radio whilst racing with your eyes shut.”

“It’s just not a priority right now,” Max huffed out, clearing his throat a little.

“Uh huh,” Daniel laughed, shaking his head. “You know, usually the first step is a date, not marriage but I am going to respect whatever lil’ mastermind plan you have concocted in your head.”

Max let out a whine, throwing his head back. “I don’t have a plan!”

Daniel raised his brows. “So inviting her to watch the race from the Red Bull garage is just a random act of kindness to the enemy then?”

“She’s my wife, not the enemy. And it’s not random at all.”

Daniel snorted.

“Oh fuck off,” Max grumbled. “This is why you weren’t invited to the wedding in the first place.”

“Actually, you did—”

“Shut up.”

...

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 261, 738 others

yourusername season over and out🫡gonna go bully charles with the dutch national anthem for three months now

view all 13,547 comments

landonorris that's just evil

yourusername shut up or i will bully you too

landonorris why are you so rude when i am literally your personal photographer

yourusername you still made me pay for dinner

user IS THAT MAX???

user omg not the red bull/ferrari contrast

user i wonder how charles is taking this

arthur_leclerc still badly

oscarpiastri i have been begging for you to wear a mclaren cap all year

yourusername keep begging, loser

user the montagues and capulets could never

logansargeant i'm taking the blue as williams support too

maxverstappen1 keep telling yourself that

yourusername be nice

user HELP THE WAY HE IS PROTECTING THE RED BULL BLUE IN THE COMMENTS

user this is my roman empire

charles_leclerc take this down

yourusername no

charles_leclerc take this down please

yourusername still no

maxverstappen1 too much red

yourusername you said i looked good in red :(

maxverstappen1 i said you looked good in red bull merch, get your facts right

yourusername someone's cranky after all the shots last night

user THEY HAVE JUST ACCEPTED THE MARRIAGE AND BLATANTLY STARTED FLIRTING ON MAIN STOP

charles_leclerc why would you say this

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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abbyscherry · 1 month

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ㅤㅤㅤ— 🎀 cockwarming lawyer!abby 𐚁 18+

ㅤdaily click | palestine masterpost | important tlou post

she’s tried so hard to focus on her work. focus mainly and solely on a new case— a case that she has wanted for months, and has finally been given the all go to take it. have at it. make it hers. but she made the mistake of working on it with you at home. she can smell your fruity perfume from here. the perfume she could spend hours smelling on your neck when she’s kissing and biting you there. can practically taste the cherry chapstick on your lips. the same one you’ve always used. she still remembers the first time you kissed and refused to let you change it. you didn’t have work today, so it was your lazy day. lounging around the apartment. catching up on your TV shows. making a new dish you had seen in your cookbook later than evening, if you wished to.

“baby?”

you hummed from the living room— or you said something, she wasn’t really sure. she sure as hell wasn’t paying any attention if you had spoken, abby was more focused on the way you licked your fingers after each strawberry you picked up from the container, and ate it. moaning at the taste. moans that always had her head spinning, no matter what the occasion was.

“can you come here? please?” god was she actually already begging? yes. did she care? apparently not. she just needed to feel you. hold you. hell, even look at you.

unbuttoning her suit jacket like she had suddenly gotten hit with a massive heat wave just from watching you, abby heaved out a quiet sigh, and leaned back in her chair. just in time to spot you walking over to her. smiling mischievously and finishing the last strawberry.

“what’s up?” came your soft voice. fingers threading through her soft blonde hair, nails scratching comfortingly at her scalp. your body melted into her touch when she’s wrapping her arms around your legs, and pulling you into her lap. your lips parting quickly with a gasp when you can feel the strap in her pants, that she always insisted on wearing just in case, against your cunt. “abs—”

“need to feel you” was she drunk? “please. just—” god she was so weak for you. so weak for everything and anything you did that she would do anything for you. “let me feel you” she murmured, her blue— hooded eyes meeting your slightly wide yet sparkling ones and she couldn’t keep her hands in one place when you smiled down at her.

“wouldn’t that be distracting for you, Miss Anderson?” you truly were a tease, weren’t you?

“don’t care, need to feel you” was all she said, lustfully. horny.

her eyes watched you like a hawk. like she always did really. she never wanted to miss anything. first they trailed over the slice of your nose, to the way your lips twitched, almost into a smile at her eagerness of needing you. to your soft eyes that looked at her like she was the only person in the world.

god you were truly such a beauty.

if she had spent any more time looking at your face, she would have missed the way you climbed off her lap, grinned at the way she bites down on her lip when you looped your fingers into the thin material of your panties and pulled them down, still maintaining eye contact. you were aware of how much that drove her crazy. “are you sure this won’t distract you? you could never really focus on anything else when i would sit on your cock, baby” you lifted your shoulders up in a small shrug, biting back a smirk when all abby did was scoff. “okay well, don’t blame me if you get none of your work done”

abby rolled her eyes, and threw her head back slightly. the action had her completely missing you kicking your panties— oblivious to the wet patch on them, to the side, but she didn’t miss the way your fingers fumbled with her belt. the sight was enough to always have her losing all remaining cool. especially when you’d sit on your knees, giggle and wink up at her.

her breath hitched in her throat when you climbed back on her onto her lap. the shirt you were wearing— most probably hers, rolled up just slightly and her hands quickly found home on your thighs, stroking your skin with her thumbs slowly. “just—”

“abigail, if you tell me how to sit on your cock, i will get dressed, go out for dinner alone and leave you here to finish your work” you warned, squinting your eyes down at her.

“right, m’sorry” the blonde nodding, a blush coating the apples of her cheeks at your words. what the fuck was going on? how is she the one that’s shy right now?

those blue eyes flicker to your face when you’re placing one of your hands on her broad shoulders, and for a second abby can’t fucking breathe when she turns her head slightly at the perfect time to find you dribbling a thick glob of spit on the tip of the silicone, giggling under your breath and using your other hand to spread it around. “fuck” her voice suddenly breaking the longer she watched.

her hands were quick to sit higher on your hips, while one of yours gripped her shoulder tightly when you’re running the tip of the silicone through your folds, lips parting with soft gasps, and all abby can do is just fucking stare. watch you rub it back and forth a few times, nudging it against your hole before you chuckle, your eyes flicking up to hers. you were teasing her. you knew how much she loved to see you sinking down on her cock, and you weren’t giving her what she has wanted since she got home.

“sorry, baby. you just look really cute when you’re flustered and impatient” you giggled, placing a kiss right between the crease of her eyebrows, and sinking on her strap slowly. sucking in deep breaths at the stretch.

you were going to be the death of her one day.

your face was hot, forehead already starting to trickle with sweat when she whispered soft ‘it’s okay’ and ‘take your time’ into your ear. her bigger hands ran up and down your thighs, squeezing at your skin gently, and feathered kisses up and down your neck. as much as she needed to just to feel you close, she never rushed you. you were right about one thing though, was she going to be able to focus?

she was going to have to trust her gut and just take one for the team.

you, on the other hand, were not focused at all. not with how she was shifting around in her fucking chair, her hips accidentally jolting upwards and you were biting down on your lip harshly when the silicone slipped deeper, nudging against your walls. the true question was how were you going to sit here, snuggly keeping her cock warm for the remaining time she had on her work without a single piece of attention?

just as she had went to pick up her pen for the 100th time today, abby clenched her jaw tightly at the sudden whines coming from you. you were trying so hard to bury your face in her neck and keep them muffled by her skin, but it was failing miserably. “baby, i know—” she murmured, tightening her arm around your waist. “just want you close. need to feel you. haven’t been this close to you in weeks. and m’sorry—”

you weren’t making this any easier on her, not with the way you were slowly moving around on her lap, and it’s like she can fucking feel you. the point of the pen hasn’t even hit the paper yet and she’s wanting nothing more than to push all her work onto the floor and make you cum as many times as you want. the way her arm was holding onto you had your brain cloudly, already drunk on the heavy feeling of the pine body wash she had used this morning. “abs—” you whimpered, tightening your arms around her neck, slowly rocking your hips back and forth, and letting out quiet gasped breaths with each movement.

the way you said her name had her reeling, brain going into overdrive, and grip tightening on your body. she didn’t understand why she thought this idea would work. having you in her lap, sitting on her cock, looking pretty, and waiting patiently for her to be done, would be the best idea but she just missed you so much. sure, you were in the same home as her, but to her, you felt so far away on that couch and she needed you so close that not even a sheet of paper would fit between you both.

she turns her head and presses a kiss on your cheek, hips bucking up when she’s trying to get a little more comfortable, and she gritted her teeth when you abruptly nipped and bit at her neck, warning her. your fingers still thread through her hair, tugging and pulling at random strands, trying to distract yourself— though that wasn’t helping her, for even 30 minutes give or take. already wanting nothing more than her to be done, or at least give your attention some clit. but she wasn’t even doing that. “abby, please—”

“i promise i will be done soon, and you will have all my attention, okay?” she tried to compromise, key word try— she was trying not to grind her hips up into you, and fuck you like you deserve each time you let out a whimper next to her ear, but she was regretting this entire thing. having your pretty girlfriend warming your cock while trying to work wasn’t ever going to end in a good way until you were done with what you were doing. “i need you here, please— just for a while, and i promise i will give you whatever you want” she pleaded, screwing her eyes shut tightly when you’re shifting around on her lap, the back of the strap rubbing her clit.

her words went in one ear and right out the other. you could barely focus on the way her lips moved, let alone focus on what she was saying. you were only thinking about how deep she was, how perfectly the silicone filled you up. you were soaked, no doubt about it, you were sure you were dripping onto her pants, but if you were, neither you or abby mentioned it.

the pen was moving quickly against the paper, finally gained enough composure to start writing— jesus christ, has it only been a few minutes since she asked you over here? a few minutes that you’ve been snuggly sitting on her cock? god. abby was biting back her smirks and stifling back subtle laughs when you suddenly let a out a high-pitched whine, the hand she had on your waist had moved, and slipped under her shirt and gripped one of your tits in her huge hands. pinching, pulling, and rolling your hardened nipples between her fingers.

“you’re doing so good, baby. just sit here looking all pretty for me for a little longer” she mumbled, slowly grinding her hips up, blue eyes flickering up to your face and found your eyes fluttering closed and sinking your teeth into your lower lip. you were already so far gone that you barely registered the huge grin on her fucking face. “just keep my cock warm, and you can have whatever you want when i’m done filling this report. I’ll fill you up so good tonight for being a good girl, my good girl, okay?” was she taunting you? moving her hips so slowly, grinding up into you just to tease you, warn you of what was coming later when you finally had all her attention?

“m’your good girl” you nodded, pressing your head against her shoulder. drunk and delirious on her. her sweet yet deep and raspy voice. her pine-scented body wash. her hand on your tits, switching between the two so the other wasn’t left out. everything about her, and everything she was doing— fuck, she was only talking to you and lightly touching you, but it was enough to have more slick pooling between your legs and your body melting more into her chest. “m’your good girl” you repeated, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“you are, baby” the blonde hummed, eyebrow quirking up, watching the way you’re slipping your hand down to between your legs, gasping into her neck when your fingers find your clit. whining in protest when abby’s quick to remove her hand from one of your tits just to grab your hand and pin your arm behind your back. “be my good girl, yeah?” she growled, clenching her jaw tightly.

“i need—”

“i know what you need, and i will give it to you when i am finished. don’t make me shove your panties into your mouth to get you to behave, baby. although, i can’t do that, you’d fucking love that too much” she’s scoffing, tutting under her breath, and grinding her teeth together when you’re moving your hips again.

you’re lifting your head from her shoulder when her fingers grip your chin between them lightly, smirking at the sight of your tongue running over your lips, slowly running it over her thumb. and she sucks in a deep breath when you’re wrapping your lips around her thumb, pulling it onto your mouth and sucking greedily. “yeah, there you go, baby” she nodded, jaw slack and eyes wide. “imagine it’s my cock, and let me finish up here then you can get the real thing”

still kinda rusty, idk how to feel about this but i missed lawyer!abby 🤍🎀

#lawyer!abby #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby anderson fic

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roosterforme · 7 months

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The Younger Kind Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is used to feeling comfortable around you, so when he arrives home and things feel strained, he wants to understand why. The more you tell him about what has you so upset, the more he wants to try to fix everything. But you don't know if he can do anything to mend your confidence.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Nat called and texted the next day to check in with you and Noah. It didn't matter how many times you lied and told her that you were just fine, she said she wanted to be sure. But you knew you were barely holding on, and the next two days without Bradley were going to be really hard.

Because now it wasn't just the USB drive. It was also your hand. And the broken glass. And the way Noah cried. You were currently curled up in Bradley's bed with Noah sound asleep in your arms, and you didn't even want to go to work tomorrow. Your hand was aching, and the gash looked terrible. Even though you had done your best with it, you knew you should have gone for stitches. But you also knew it was too late for that now.

After a moment of contemplation, you decided to keep Noah in bed with you for the night. You opened up your email one more time with the arrival instructions from Bradley even though you had them memorized. But you didn't want to mess this up.

When you got to work the next morning, while you were still trying to decide if you should report the break in, another layer of embarrassment was added. Dr. Kelly pulled you aside and glanced down at your hand as she said, "Would you like me to take a look at that?"

You'd done a pretty terrible job of bandaging it up on your own. "Sure," you said softly, and she unwrapped it and winced.

"This didn't happen at work, did it?"

"No," you replied quickly. "At home."

She met your eyes with startled ones. "This is a nasty, irregular cut. You live with your boyfriend, correct?" When you nodded, she added, "If there's any sort of issue with... violence at home, please know that you can always come to me."

Your jaw dropped open, and you gasped. "No! He's not even here, he's deployed! It was an accident!"

"Okay," she said right away. "I believe you. Let me get it cleaned up. It's looking angry, and you should have probably gone somewhere for stitches over the weekend."

Instead of responding, you silently followed her to one of the exam rooms where she carefully disinfected your palm and applied an adhesive that would work on your skin. "I can reapply it later this week for you."

"Thanks." As you got back to work, you were starting to think you should have reported the incident with the police. Panic rose inside you as you were instructed to prepare some vaccination syringes for the ten year old in exam room five.

Should you wait until Bradley got home on Wednesday? Should you call the police after work today? Your cut up hand was bad enough, but Noah could have been the one who got hurt. And you'd honestly never be able to forgive yourself if something happened to him. You had protected him from Meredith in the park, so why was this any different?

You rushed back to Bradley's house after work and ran inside, completely exasperated by his old man tendencies. You had to search for the list of phone numbers he gave you which would have been much better if he just saved them to your contacts in your phone.

Noah needed to be picked up in the next forty minutes, and you didn't know how long she would be in her office, but you tried to reach Tracy anyway. When you gave your name to her receptionist, you were shocked that he put you right through to Bradley's lawyer.

"I hope Bradley thanked you for me. The Red Bulls were very sweet of you."

You laughed at Tracy in spite of the fact that you felt like crying. "It's the least I could do." Then you took a deep breath and said, "I was wondering if there is any way you can help me? I don't want to end up with Bradley having to pay you if you give me advice over the phone or anything like that. But I think I need some help right now even though he should be back on Wednesday."

"Your boyfriend basically has me on retainer for you. What do you need?" Tracy asked.

"Retainer?" you asked. No, that couldn't be right.

"I was given explicit instructions to help you with anything you might call about. We're not going to worry about any billing, because he certainly wasn't worried, okay? What can I do for you?"

You sucked in a deep breath as you paced around the kitchen. You felt defeated. That damn USB drive was on top of the refrigerator. The coffee machine you could barely figure out how to use was on the counter. The list of phone numbers in Bradley's handwriting was on the table. So you walked out back and forced yourself to say, "I think Meredith broke into my rental which I had already moved out of. And I saw her at a gas station before that."

There was a long enough pause that you were about to repeat yourself, but then she said, "I think that if she did break into your rental, it was purely out of spite. Because I actually have some news about Meredith that I was waiting to tell Bradley. But I think you and I should have a conversation first, and then you should decide if you want to call the police."

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

Bradley just wanted to get off this aircraft carrier. He had one night left in this fucking bunk with Carl, and then he could go home to his cozy house and sweet son and your warm, welcoming body. Maybe you'd let him snuggle with you and Noah on the couch, and then after Noah's bedtime, he could take you to bed. He couldn't stop thinking about every single way he wanted to have you. And then he could fall asleep with you wrapped up in his arms and your soft breath on his skin.

He was almost getting hard just thinking about it. It had been a long time since he had someone to come home to, someone who was waiting just for him. He felt like he wanted to reward you for it. God, he wanted to give you everything. He had to tuck his hands up behind his head in his bunk and force himself to try to go to sleep. But he dreamed about your voice and your fingertips on his face.

The following day went quickly as they docked in the afternoon. Once he was able to text you, Bradley was pleased to see that you were more responsive.

I'm docked, Princess. We got in a little early, but I haven't deboarded yet. I know you're at work, but I can't wait to see you whenever you can come pick me up.

My Princess: I'll be there by four with Noah. We missed you so much!

When he was able to finally collect his things and start down the ramp, Bradley's heart was thudding in his ears. It wasn't four o'clock yet, and he knew he might have to wait for you to get there, but then he was pleasantly surprised. As he started walking along the fence to the parking lot, he spotted his Bronco in the last aisle. You had parked it away from everything and everything else, and that brought a smile to his face.

And then he saw you, carrying Noah and hurrying toward him in your new work scrubs that he hadn't even seen yet. A smile broke out on his face as he rushed to close the distance. "Noah! Princess!"

"Daddy!" Noah squealed with delight, practically jumping from your arms to his. Bradley wrapped Noah up in his right arm and kissed him all over his face, reaching for you at the same time with his free hand. "I love you, Bub. Did you have fun with Princess?"

But you hesitated. And when Bradley met your eyes, he was still reaching for you, but you were only very slowly stepping toward him. "Come here," he rasped, slipping his arm around your waist until you were snug at his side. "I love you." Those words seemed to do the trick as you melted against him, and your chin tipped up as you looked at him.

"I missed you so much," you told him, your voice soft and maybe a little sad? And Bradley kissed you hard and heady in front of everyone including Noah, letting his hand rest on the swell of your butt. He didn't care. You belonged with him. He wanted you there forever.

But even though you were clinging to his uniform shirt now and returning his kisses with a soft moan, he could tell you were holding back. He trailed a few kisses along your jaw back toward your ear and whispered, "I love you, Baby," and you shivered for him. But when he reached for your hand, he found it was bandaged up. And you looked at him with barely concealed frustration. He could just tell something was wrong.

"What happened?" he asked, repositioning Noah in his arm and letting his son's cheek rest on his shoulder. He kissed your fingers and ran his thumb along the bandage. "What's wrong with your hand?"

You tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't let you. "Can we talk about it later? Tonight?"

"Yeah," he agreed, suddenly even more apprehensive. "We can."

"Great," you replied, leading the way to the Bronco with your fingers loosely tangled with his. And while Bradley walked with his lips pressed to his son's forehead and his duffle bag on his back, he was worried about you.

You were still quiet when the three of you pulled into the driveway and headed inside. "I have a lasagna ready to go in the oven," you told Bradley when he followed you into the kitchen. "Should we start doing your laundry?"

He laughed softly as he put Noah down in one of the chairs and dropped his bag to the floor. "Princess," he whispered, reaching for your soft cheek. "Baby, I don't care about my laundry. I don't even really care about dinner, but I love that you have something ready to go. I just want you to tell me what's bothering you."

He watched you swallow hard, and he thought he saw your eyes dart toward the top of the refrigerator. "Bradley," you muttered.

"You know I thought about you nonstop, right?" he whispered, remembering how it felt to have his fist connect with Carl's face as he made sure he got his polaroid back. "On repeat. I just wanted to be home." He kissed your lips over and over again, stroking your soft skin with his thumb. "So I'll take care of whatever has you upset. You know I will."

You just nodded and let your eyes flutter closed. And all you offered him was one word. "Later."

After dinner was eaten and cleaned up, Bradley spent some extra time giving Noah a bath. The tub was absolutely filled with toys, and Bradley ended up removing his soaking wet undershirt, kneeling on the floor in just his underwear and service khakis. "I missed you so much," he said, kissing his son over and over again. "But I know you had fun with Princess."

Noah held out a green duckie for Bradley to take before he said, "I want Princess to be my mommy."

Bradley met brown eyes that matched his, and he easily said, "I do too, Bub. She would be really good at it." You already were good at it. But something was wrong, and he needed to figure it out. The two of you weren't acting the way he had hoped you would after being apart for weeks. And now he was questioning whether or not you'd actually want to marry him someday.

It was late. Definitely after Noah's usual bedtime. He was yawning now, but Bradley had been so excited to see him, he let him stay up. With one more big yawn, Bradley scooped his son out of the tub with a towel and drained the water. Then he stopped in the living room where you were sitting on the couch, and he let Noah give you a goodnight kiss. And he leaned down and kissed your cheek as well. "I'll be back out in a minute. We'll talk."

"Okay," you said softly, and then Bradley was thankful that Noah was already falling asleep as soon as he was in bed. On his way back out to the living room, he stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of merlot and a bag of Skittles he had stashed away.

After he opened the bottle and took a sip, he met you in the living room. Your gaze took in his naked torso as you bit your lip, and when he handed you the wine with no glass, you took a sip from the bottle as well.

"Let's talk?" he asked, settling down next to you. He opened the bag of candy and patted his thigh. "And snuggle? I've been saving the wine and Skittles for our reunion, but you'll have to remind me which color goes best with merlot."

He could tell you were trying not to smile as you scooted across the couch and onto his lap while you sipped the wine. "Red, Daddy. Red Skittles pair with merlot."

"Yes," he rasped, kissing the side of your neck. "That's right. Now that I'm all yours again, just like I'm supposed to be, why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"

You handed him the bottle in favor of the candy, and you crunched on a few pieces before you said, "I moved all of my stuff in. And I used your address for my new hire paperwork."

Bradley had to hold back a moan. That sounded so fucking perfect to him, he wanted to take you on the floor right now, right in the middle of the area rug. But instead he just tightened his arm around your waist. "Mmhmm, you know just want to say to make me happy. And you did so great with Noah. I knew you would be perfect, Princess."

But then you met his eyes and held up your bandaged hand. "I had to call Tracy on Monday," you said, and Bradley's heart dropped.

"Why?"

You pressed your lips together and looked down at the bottle of wine before taking it from his hand and drinking some more. "I saw Meredith at the gas station near Noah's daycare," you whispered, your voice soft and harsh.

"She broke the restraining order?" he growled. "What the fuck?"

"It was just a gas station," you replied quietly. "And I think she was already there when I pulled in." Bradley was about to rage, but then you kept going. "But then someone broke into my rental, and I cut my hand when Noah was with me. And it must have been Meredith, so I called Tracy, because you weren't here, and I wasn't sure what to do." When you took a deep breath there was a little sob with it that made Bradley clench with the need to protect you.

"Shit! I wish you didn't have to do this by yourself," he replied, heart skipping faster. "But I'm proud of you. What did Tracy say about Meredith?"

"She helped me file a police report, and they said they are looking for evidence, but my landlord is pissed off that the window is broken. He was supposed to have a new renter move in this week, and he's threatening me about paying for another month. He told me to fix the glass, but the police won't even let me. And you and I are supposed to go meet up with Tracy tomorrow." You hiccupped when you finished talking.

"Shh," Bradley said, setting the bottle down on the end table and pulling you to his body so your cheek came to rest on his chest. "Baby, I'll take care of it. But back up, and go slow. Did Meredith threaten you or Noah?"

You shrugged against his body, and Bradley focused on every single word you had to say about the gas station and your broken windowpane and the note that was left. And how the police and Tracy both agreed that there's probably not enough evidence to prove anything one way or the other. And then you seemed wrung out as a tear slid down your cheek when you said, "Tracy did tell me that Meredith was on trial for the fraud charges I brought up against her during the custody hearing. When I saw her at the gas station, she told me I ruined her life. And then my window was smashed, probably just because she's such a horrible bitch."

"Make sense," he mumbled against your hair. No wonder he had several unread emails from Tracy that he knew he still needed to go through. Shit. You'd dealt with an awful lot in his absence. He wondered if that meant Meredith was being sentenced. "And we have an appointment with Tracy tomorrow?"

"Yes," you whispered, curling up tighter against his body. "During my lunch break."

"Okay." He kissed your forehead and ran his hands up and down your back. "I'm still off tomorrow. I'll drop you off at work in the morning, and then I'll come back for you whenever you want. And we'll go talk to Tracy, and I promise you, I will take care of everything." You were practically shaking as he added, "Because you take care of us."

You were nodding as you finally looked up at him, and as angry as Bradley was about more bullshit from Meredith, you and Noah were safe. And Tracy would probably have more information for him tomorrow. But right now, you needed someone to take care of you for a minute. "I love you," he promised, considering how exhausted you looked. "Let's take a shower and get in bed?"

Whether you were nodding in agreement or because you were still shaky, Bradley wasn't sure. But he carried you into the bathroom and set you down gently as he turned the shower on. Once you were undressed he helped you in and carefully unwrapped the bandage on your hand. There was a jagged cut on your palm that made his heart lurch. "I'll clean it and rebandage it, Princess," he said, trying to hide the anger in his voice. You didn't deserve any of the shit you'd repeatedly gone through since you met him.

"Okay," you whispered, and as soon as he was out of his khakis and underwear, you were pulling him in with you. Bradley was helpless in his feelings for you. Very carefully, he took his time and washed you so you didn't irritate your cut further. And he let himself just enjoy the feel of your body against his as he gently held your hand.

When he turned the shower off, he wrapped you in a towel and carried you to the bedroom. Everything looked exactly as it should: your purple crown was on his bedpost, everything was tidy, and the bed looked inviting. But you still didn't look relaxed as he helped you into his gray sweatpants and a soft undershirt before bandaging your hand again.

"What will make you feel better?" he asked, pulling on clean underwear as you climbed into bed. "Tell me, and I'll do it. I just want you to know how much I missed you and how happy I am that you moved all your stuff in while I was away."

You peeled the blanket back on his side of the bed and whispered, "Snuggle with me?"

You looked so perfect and innocent, and Bradley slid in bed with you and collected you in his arms. "Come here, Baby. Let me tell you how much I love you."

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

You started to fall asleep in Bradley's arms while he rubbed small circles on your back through his undershirt which you were wearing. You had been on the brink of erupting into tears all night, and you hadn't even mentioned the USB drive. And now that he was home, you didn't know if you were strong enough to bring it up at all.

If he knew it was in that box in the attic, then you were going to make a fool of yourself. And if he forgot about its existence, he was going to think you were snooping through his things even though he gave you permission to use the attic. Either way, you weren't going to mention it, at least not yet.

There were too many other things to think about anyway. Like whether or not the police found anything in your rental. And how you were going to fix the window. And if Meredith was actually going to attempt something with you or Noah, or if she was just bitter that she might be facing jail time.

"Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley's arm tightened around you as he kissed the top of your head.

"Just sleep, Baby. I'll be right here."

As you dozed off, you realized you didn't have to be on full alert at the moment. For the first night in so long, you could just sleep and know he was with you and Noah. And then you were out.

Next thing you knew, it was light inside the bedroom, and Bradley was waking you up with gentle kisses on your face. You reached for him, and then his body weight was on top of you as he chuckled. "Baby, we'll be late."

"Good, I want to stay in bed all day," you whined, but soon you were dressed in your scrubs and making breakfast while Bradley got Noah ready for daycare. You hated the way you felt like you were holding back being as physical as you wanted to be with your boyfriend.

And then a flash of panic shot through you. He must have been expecting you to have sex with him last night, when instead you fell asleep as a bundle of nerves. You were still a bundle of nerves, but now you felt like crying as well. But he was acting so normal when he brought Noah into the kitchen to eat pancakes. "Just leave the mess in the sink, and I'll take care of it later," he said casually, reaching for your good hand to give you another kiss.

But you were thinking about the USB drive, and your meeting with Tracy and your job. And you barely kissed him back this time. "Okay," you agreed before picking at your breakfast.

Bradley looked concerned now, and he continued to look concerned a little later as he pulled into Noah's daycare parking lot. "I can take him in," you muttered, but he had already turned off the Bronco's engine.

"Let's go together," he replied, eyeing you skeptically as he climbed out to get Noah. And when you were walking in, side by side, Bradley asked, "Will you tell me what else is on your mind?"

You just shook your head, because you didn't want to get into this right now. But he took your hand anyway. And of course the same girl was working at the front desk with her clipboard.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw! Good morning!"

"Hi, Casey," he replied smoothly, his fingers laced with yours.

"How was your deployment? We really missed you here." She gave you some serious side eye, and you just knew she wished you weren't even around.

"It was fine," he replied, setting Noah down and kissing him. And then Noah turned to you for a hug before he walked back to the playroom. Then Bradley tugged you a little closer to him and wrapped his arm around you before signing the clipboard with the back of your body snug up against the front of his. He kissed your neck while Casey watched. "Let's go before you're late for work, Princess," he whispered next to your ear.

He handed the clipboard to Casey without even looking at her, and you were so mixed up inside, you wanted to scream. Five minutes ago, you were dreading the idea of being intimate with Bradley without showing him the USB drive first, and now you wanted to fuck him in the front seat of the Bronco.

"Listen," he said, voice stern as he pulled out into traffic and headed toward your medical complex. "Something is bugging you. I want you to be honest with me. After we talk to Tracy together, you and I are having a conversation later today. And by the end of that conversation, I want you and I to feel the way we are supposed to feel again. Because you moved all your stuff into the house, which I think is us officially taking the next step in our relationship. And I'm used to feeling comfortable when I'm with you. Okay?"

You pressed your lips together. There was no getting around it now. "Yes."

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

"I really like Tracy and all, but I was hoping I'd never have to come here again," Bradley said as you and he rode the elevator up to her office.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, running your hands down the front of your now wrinkly scrubs. "It's probably my fault."

Bradley did a double take. "Your fault? How would this possibly be your fault, Baby?"

You sighed and exited the elevator, and Bradley just wanted you to look happy again. "Because I'm the one who mentioned all of Meredith's insider trading and shady deals in the first place."

"Hey," he said, leading you down the hallway with his hand at your back. "This is one hundred percent Meredith's fault. And the fraud charges were probably coming whether or not we said anything about it during the custody hearing."

Then Tracy's receptionist was waving the two of you past his desk without question, and Bradley thought that was either a very good or a very bad sign.

"Meredith is in custody," Tracy announced as soon as her office door was closed behind Bradley.

You gasped and said, "She's in prison."

"Yes. Now have a seat," she replied, pointing to the small conference table. "Because we have some things to discuss. Welcome home, Bradley." Then she set down a copy of Meredith's mugshot and arrest information.

"What a warm welcome," he muttered, skimming the paperwork. "She turned herself in?"

"She did," Tracy told him, taking the empty seat across the table and cracking open a Red Bull. "Probably broke the window at your place for fun as her last hurrah before turning herself in."

"Did the police find anything?" you asked her. "My landlord is so mad about the window."

Tracy just kind of shrugged. "Like I told you before, it's probably a lost cause. Nobody picked anything up on a doorbell camera, and it's impossible to tell exactly when it happened since you haven't actually been living there for a few months." You nodded, and then Tracy asked, "But if they do find evidence, would you like to press charges?"

"No," you replied immediately, and Bradley leaned in a little closer.

"Are you sure? We can absolutely press charges if you want to."

"Come on, Bradley," you said quietly, even though Tracy could still hear. "I don't want to cost you any more money. And I can't afford Tracy on my own."

You looked at him with pleading eyes, and he leaned in even closer to you. How many times had the two of you had this fucking conversation? Too many for him to keep track of, and it annoyed him every single time. "Look at me," he whispered when you started to turn away. As soon as you met his eyes again, he kissed you softly. But his voice was rough around the edges as he said, "I would defend you with my life. Why would my money be any different? Why is that the thing that is always too much for you?"

With a soft gasp, you gaped at him. "Your life?"

"Yes, of course," he said, brow furrowed. "So I really need you to stop making a fuss about everything else. Because it doesn't matter compared to you. Or compared to Noah. Or compared to us. And I'm getting pretty fucking sick of having this conversation over and over again with you."

"Bradley," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chanced a glance at Tracy, but she was simply scrolling on her phone now. And he could hear tears in your voice as you said, "Money isn't as important as you either."

"Exactly," he growled, holding you tight. "Fuck, Princess... don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry. But if you want to press charges, if there's even a reason to press charges, I will gladly pay for Tracy. She's expensive as hell, because she's very good."

"That's right," Tracy murmured, still scrolling.

You pulled away from him and kissed his scarred cheek a few times before you said, "Can I think about it? I mean, Meredith was probably just acting like a petty bitch because she could."

"We can wait for a police report," Tracy supplied, setting down her phone. "And I can get more information about Meredith as well."

You nodded and looked up at Bradley. "That's what I want to do."

"Then that's what we'll do," he agreed right away.

"Tracy, do you know when I'll be able to replace the window? My landlord is threatening me with another month of rent."

She just snorted. "Send me a copy of your lease agreement. I'll make him cry."

When the three of you stood, Bradley could tell you seemed more relaxed, and he kissed the now dry tears from your cheek. "How much do I owe you for today?" Bradley asked Tracy as he took your bandaged hand in his.

"No worries. I'll bill you."

"Worth every cent," Bradley told you once again as you rode the elevator back down.

You had your head resting on his chest as you pulled out your phone, and he could see your screen as you said, "Dr. Kelly texted me. She told me to just take the rest of the afternoon for myself."

"Do you want to head home?" he asked as you tucked your phone away again.

"Yeah, I'll make us lunch."

"Perfect," he replied. "And then we can talk."

And you seemed fine on the way home, changing radio stations in the Bonco and talking about how you hoped Meredith would have to serve the full fifteen years she was being threatened with. Bradley didn't really give much of a fuck about Meredith as long as you felt safe and happy. As long as things went back to normal for the three of you.

But as soon as you walked into the kitchen, you seemed apprehensive once again. He watched you carefully get some butter and cheese out of the refrigerator, claiming you were in the mood for a grilled cheese sandwich. But then you tossed everything onto the counter and spun to face him.

"I can't take it any more, okay?" You were nearly shouting at him, fists clenched at your sides. Your pretty face was all pinched like you were in pain.

"What?" Bradley asked, rushing to you. "What's wrong?" And then he saw one rogue tear streak down your cheek. Something was making you cry again, and he needed to know what it was.

"She's so many things that I know are horrible, but she's also so many things that I wish I could be... but I'm just not." You took a deep breath and reached up on your tiptoes to take something down from the top of the refrigerator. "I just want to know why it's here, okay?" you asked him, your hands shaking as you reached out with a blue USB drive on your bandaged palm. "Just don't lie to me about why you have this, Bradley. I know it's a few years old, but I just don't understand why you had it in the attic with Noah's baby clothes."

He took it in his own hand, and it seemed familiar. When he looked up and met your eyes, you were crying and trying to swipe the tears away. "I'm confused..."

You pointed at his laptop which was charging on the table, and said, "Just tell me the truth," as you sobbed.

Bradley opened the computer and tried to keep a wary eye on you at the same time. But as soon as he inserted the USB drive and the folder automatically opened up, he heard you softly say, "I can't," before you rushed out of the room.

He was still baffled as he tapped on the video thumbnail. And then he wanted to throw the computer across the room. His blood ran cold as he remembered making this video. The details were hazy, but when he heard himself tell Meredith that he loved her, he wrenched the drive back out of the laptop and heard it clatter across the floor as he ran after you.

"Princess!"

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

Fix it now, Daddy!! You better fix it! I hope you enjoy your babysitter story @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you @mak-32

PART 33

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matan4il · 6 months

Text

Daily update post:

This morning, 15 minutes after the break in fighting was supposed to begin, Hamas fired two rocket barrages into southern Israel. This is what we mean when we say that Hamas has broken every ceasefire ever. The only reason why this didn't lead to the hostage deal falling apart, is because Israel chose to "contain" Hamas' violent rocket attack. But remember this when we explain why we can't accept Hamas' existence anymore.

Israel confirmed that the 13 hostages being released have arrived in Egypt, and there are already Israelis there, taking care of them. IDK when we'll get their names, and images of them safe back in Israel, but as you can imagine, everyone here is holding its breath for that. Still, their well being comes first, they're being taken to a hospital first, to see their families, and only then (and based on whatever they prefer) will there be anything more public. There will not be interviews, however, 'coz something they say might risk the other groups of hostages meant to be released in the upcoming days.

Hamas is also releasing some of the Thai nationals they've kidnapped (I heard 12 of the 23 taken hostage), which are being let go of unconditionally. Before anyone tries to make out this shows Hamas is humane, I'll just point out that Hamas terrorists murdered at least 33 Thais on Oct 7.

Some of my fave commentators recently on what's going on here since Hamas' massacre aren't Jewish, or even Israeli. Here's a few of their tweets:

Regarding the last one, I just wanna say that most Israelis will continue to trust most Arabs. That's just how we have always lived, despite the on going terror attacks. The day after Oct 7, I mentioned that I went to my hospital treatment. The guard there is an Arab guy. He carries a gun. I couldn't help but think about it. And then I did what I always do, I thanked him for his work (being a guard is difficult), and wished him a good day. He smiled big and wished me the same. He's lovely. What Hamas did on Oct 7 is not his fault. But the mistrust of survivors, and some of those who care about them, is also very human and understandable, as much as I'll continue to call on everyone not to generalize about Arabs, or any group.

Especially when some of Hamas' victims are themselves Arabs. Here's a young Israeli Muslim Bedouin woman, who has been speaking up on behalf of her friend, 17 years old Aisha al Ziadna, who was kidnapped by Hamas on Oct 7.

A Sky News reporter was particularly shameful the other day. She tried to use Israel's willingness to release 3 convicted terrorist per just 1 innocent civilian hostage to vilify Israel. Here's the reply she got:

Just a reminder, once again, that when you listen to western media, which is supposed to be objective, these are often their info sources on this conflict:

Speaking of lack of objectivity, an Israeli newspaper found out that the International Criminal Court has appointed a Danish lawyer to investigate the Israel-Hamas war, and it's a man (I'm not sure I'm transcribing his name from Hebrew correctly, but it should be something like Andreas Laursen) who has worked in the past for a Palestinian "human rights organization" which has been outlawed in 2021 for having ties to terrorist organizations, who was involved in 2018 in trying to make the case that Israel had committed war crimes, who has lived in the Palestinian city of Ramallah, and who is married to a Palestinian woman. This Israeli newspaper has contacted the ICC, asking why the person appointed to this investigation isn't someone who would at least appear to be unbiased. The answer was (I'm translating from the Hebrew article): "We maintain confidentiality about anything that pertains to specific subjects that are related to our employees. Every personal decision made by the head prosecutor fits the policy and relevant procedures that oversee the court's human resources matters."

Because there are still people denying the Hamas rapes:

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I've spoken before about Liel, and how long it took to identify her body, but this tweet kind of broke me all over again.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #Instagram

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occatorcreator · 7 days

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Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

2 - Lonely Purpose

Purple seeks out a new purpose in the wake of his mother's passing and makes a new life in the world of Minecraft. Through it, he ends up crossing paths with a group of stick figures in need. Content Warnings: Character death, grieving, canon typical violence

Purple returned to the city to bury Orchid. There was no body to bury, but a grave was something Orchid requested in her end-of-life plan, and Purple would honor her last requests.

It didn’t change the hollow feeling he had standing before her grave. He had cried all of yesterday, and his eyes felt raw and painful, but he couldn’t summon any more tears. So he simply stewed in his emptiness.

He was the only one there for her funeral.

I mean, of course he wouldn’t show up, Purple thought. I should be glad to not see him… it would just be awkward. As if he cares that his ex-spouse is gone.

The lawyer reached out to Navy regarding the death. Navy should have learned of Orchid’s passing and Purple’s destitution. But of course how could one reach someone who left without any contact for over a year? Purple would be a fool to hope to see him here.

So, why was he so upset that Navy failed to show?

I can’t be here, Purple turned away, the numbness turning into an unexpectedly painful vise in his chest. He left his mother’s grave and the cemetery behind as quickly as he could, bolting down the sidewalk until he had no energy left to run.

He leaned against a wall, watching as stick figures passed by with faded interest. He stood as still as a statue, watching passerbys go into the stores. There were parents holding little kids by their hands, groups of friends chatting close to each other, lovers holding hands and laughing...

Everyone was lively and moving around like usual. The day was bright and sunny, birds were chirping. As if this wasn’t the worst day of Purple’s life.

A group of teenagers passed by him. When Purple watched them, he recognized all of them as old friends from school. All but one. A tall, lanky orange hollow head towered over them and chatted with arms waving animatedly. Their eyes briefly met Purple’s and for a split, terrifying second, Purple thought they were going to try to rope him into small talk.

But they didn’t, they just waved and continued walking with their group. A couple of others looked back at Purple, and Purple tried not to notice their confused and judging gazes. The teens turned a corner, but Purple caught his name whispered among them.

“Hold on, was that Purple back there?”

With heavy limbs, Purple followed behind them. He moved silently, trying to be discreet in the fact he was following them.

It has been five months since I dropped out, Purple realized. It had to be summer break now.

“Do you know them, Peri?” The orange hollow head asked.

“Yeah, he disappeared before you transferred in, Second,” the stick figure Purple knew as Periwinkle said. “He was in my financial elective...”

“And he was a total scumbag,” a dark violet stick figure jumped in.

“Saffron,” Periwinkle admonished.

“What? It’s true!” The oddly named Saffron said. Purple recalled her brazenness. She was Periwinkle’s annoying younger sister and highly protective of her softhearted brother. Any slight against him, no matter how small, earned her ire.

“What did Purple do?” Second asked.

“Ah, Purple is someone you wouldn’t want to get close to,” added a brown stick figure beside them. “He acts friendly at first, gives gifts to buy your affection. But he’s highly controlling. The moment you don’t do what he wants or if you inconvenience him, he dumps you and goes after the next sucker.”

Chestnut… Purple grimaced at his ex-friend’s bitterness. He lagged behind, increasing the distance between them.

“I think that’s being a little bit uncharitable,” Periwinkle added, “I think he really admired you, Chestnut.”

“Ugh, don’t even joke about that, Peri?” Chestnut said, punching Periwinkle in the arm. Her disgust was hard not to hear from this distance.

“Why are you even defending him? Do I need to remind you how Purple borrowed your prized umbrella?” Saffron said, “and you never got it back even after asking about it?”

“I never forgot that…” Periwinkle nodded, and Purple saw his shoulders slump. “Gosh, it still hurts to think about it. I spent so much money getting that, it was one of a kind.”

“Exactly! And now it’s gone because of him! You’re being too nice!”

Second, sensing that their friend group was getting agitated, coughed in their hands.

“Anyways, I asked Mango this morning, and he said I can go to the arcade with you all!”

Saffron pumped her hands in the air while Periwinkle clapped. “Awesome!”

“Yeah, enough about Purple,” Chestnut said, not leaving much alone, slinging her arm around Second’s shoulders. “Be grateful you never met him. He’d be horrible to you too.”

“Chestnut,” Second scolded.

“Sorry, I’ll stop,” Chestnut finished.

Then they chatted about arcade games. Purple didn’t catch anything else as he stopped in his tracks, watching as the group retreated. He couldn't stand to listen anymore as he felt like he was close to decking one of them.

Why… was the whole school glad I was gone for months? Purple thought, clenching his fists. Was I really that awful to you?

He and Chestnut certainly had a falling out, but he swore his attempts at being her friend were genuine. Complimenting and giving gifts- how else was he supposed to make friends? It wasn’t his fault they had incompatible personalities! Not everyone can be so blaisé about everything! Was it a crime to expand his social circle?

Not like those sticks liked me for long… Purple thought, recalling how he fell out of that clique faster than he did with Chestnut.

Periwinkle was nice; Purple did intend to only borrow the umbrella since he had none that rainy day. But of course, with his horrid luck, he ended up breaking it on the way home and feared how Periwinkle would react. How was he supposed to know that it was a special one of a kind?

Stupid idiot’s too obsessive over umbrellas, Purple grinded his teeth. If he and his sister blow a gasket over a lost umbrella of all things, then no sane person should deal with them!

He felt raw and scratched, scoured by their claws. How he hated them. Truly hated them all. Especially that Second kid- what a stupid name. While he didn’t know anything about them, he hated how the three people who he couldn’t befriend clung to them so easily. He hated how Second had to only look at him to ruin his horrible day even further. He hated that they had some parent to come home to after fun at the arcade with friends while Purple was all alone.

I hate you! Purple thought with bared teeth. I hope you all suffer like I did! Hope your days are as rotten and horrid as mine!

I hate all of you!

Alana reminded Purple that he could stay on the desktop for as long as he liked. That arrangement worked out for Purple because he had no reason to leave the computer. He didn’t want to return to school, and he had no desire to find a job and be a cog in some miserable system in the city. On the desktop, he had more freedom to do what he wanted.

And he just wanted to lie in his bed and wallow in his sadness.

He let the grief drape over him. It made his limbs heavy as lead and turned his mind to static. Food and activities were bland; he had no desire to do much of anything. Aside from Alana, there wasn’t anyone checking on him. He had no idea where the villager caretaker went or if they were somehow deleted, but he couldn’t even begin to care.

How odd it felt to be purposeless. How the drive and desperation to find a cure for his mother vanished with her body, leaving behind exhaustion and nothingness.

The only time he felt anything other than despair was when he dreamed. The dreams were both cruel and relieving. He dreamt of being a prince in a grand castle. His mother and friends were there in that castle to greet him and go on fun adventures. Waking was painful, as it brought those sweet dreams to an end and dumped him back to the cold, lonely reality. The more he slept, the longer the dreams went and more intense the pain of waking became.

I wish I could stay in my dreams…

But then one night, they changed. Instead of continuing the fantasy, he dreamt he was in a void. A light shone above, with pink petals floating down around him.

Orchid petals? Purple thought, holding a hand out to catch a petal. Mom?

Instinctively he looked around, trying to find Orchid in the pitch dark, only to flinch when he saw Navy standing before him in the gloom.

“Why are you here?” Purple raised hands up defensively. He had not dreamt of his father once in his fantasy world. It was as if he was banished from his dreams.

Yet Navy stood before him, staring. The stare was all too familiar, that cold, guarded stare before he walked out of Orchid and Purple’s life.

“What?” Purple demanded, “what do you want? What right do you have to judge me?”

Navy said nothing. He should have said something by now.

“Be gone with you!” Purple waved, “Do what you always do and just leave me already!”

To that, Navy’s gave a disappointed sigh.

“You can’t even keep your promises,” he said, “that’s it, I guess. I’m leaving.”

He turned and walked away into the void.

“What?” Purple never recalled him saying that before. He didn’t understand. “Wait!” Purple took a step forward. “What do you mean by that? Answer me!”

Navy kept walking; Purple couldn’t catch up. Despite telling him to leave, he still chased after his father.

What promise am I breaking?

When Purple awoke, he remembered his mother’s dying breath: she’d asked for Purple to take care of himself.

Sleeping in bed, shutting myself from the world, Purple’s heart hammered. I’m not keeping to that promise.

And he loathed that a dream version of Navy could be right!

For the first time since he left his mother’s grave, the drive fueled him. He thought he lost it to grief. That dream, his father’s words criticizing his ineptitude, gave him something for his churning anger to sharpen itself against.

I’ll take care of myself, he thought, no, I’ll do better, I will thrive. He’d prove his father, those teens, and everyone who ever doubted and looked down on little Purple wrong!

He would be great.

Purple crawled out of bed. His muscles protested at the exertion he was unused to after months of laying around. He forced himself to hold his head high.

“How about…” Purple said as he spotted the remains of his and Orchid’s castle. “I finish that castle of mine.”

Purple wanted to play Minecraft legitimately. No cheats, no spawning things. He was going in to play like any other player. He had a new goal for his playthrough. He aimed to become a true king of Minecraft.

He started with only the essentials and got to mining. He had his basic goals set for making his kingdom: get enough cobblestone and wood to build his castle and starting houses, locate some villagers, and… well he hadn’t figured out step three yet, but the first two were going to be huge.

There were enemies. Fighting them wasn’t as bad as Purple initially feared. If anything, felling the zombies, creepers, and skeletons, then the tougher ghasts, endermen, and wither skeletons, made Purple feel powerful. All those rusted fighting skills he neglected were sharpening and, for once, he enjoyed the combat. With the right equipment and enchantments, enemy encounters hardly concerned him.

He found some zombie villagers too and, desiring to build a village the proper way, successfully escorted and cured those zombie villagers. And, oh, how he was praised for his heroics! The cured villagers bowed to him as their savior, Lord Purple!

Not the pathetic Purple I was before now, huh? Purple thought, puffing his chest in pride.

But the joy never lasted. The glory he got from fighting turned dull as the enemies were no match for his sword. The villagers had children. Seeing happy little kids running around while their happy parents watched, filled Purple’s hollow heart with venom. Their praise towards his greatness suddenly felt shallow and fake, especially knowing how much he loathed to see them prosper when he still felt horrible.

It didn’t help that the next day, all those kids grew into adults. The very sight of this rapid aging caused Purple to retreat into his castle and remain there for three days. He glared at the wall, unable to sleep and failing to calm himself down. Once again, all the motivation deserted him, and a part of him wanted to burn this fake village and false castle to the ground.

“Why?” He asked a portrait of a bizarre wither skull formation, “why is it that I’ve accomplished so much more than I did in school, and I still feel this way?”

The skull painting did not answer, but Purple suspected it knew fully well why.

Purple imagined his mother telling him that he was pushing himself too hard, but the thoughts of her words just made him curl further in a miserable ball. How could he enjoy even the false, temporary victories of a game when she wasn't there to see them?

Only Navy’s words spurred Purple out of his funk on the third day when he fell asleep. You can’t even keep your promises...

“Right. Castle and village is done. I need a new goal,” he said and eyed the skull painting. It was such a peculiar piece that he wondered if it was a hint that if he made something like that he’d summon something like an iron golem. Something evil.

If so, if I make this and defend the village from this beast, Purple thought, then I’d be a legend to them!

Plus, he’d like a challenging fight for once. Time to visit the nether and grab some skulls.

“Ugh, finally!” Purple said as he successfully pried the third wither skeleton’s skull off and it didn’t disintegrate to ash. “I swear, hunting for skulls is such a pain.”

But he finally got three skulls and the soul sand. He was done with his nether trip. Time to head back and figure out what he’d summon-

Bang! Bang!

The nether caverns echoed with the sound of rhythmic thumping. Purple felt the walls around him tremble as the thumping grew louder and louder. He looked around, clutching the wither skull to his chest, as he tried to find the source of the noise.

“The hell is going on?” Purple gasped.

Suddenly, there was a scream. Purple only had a split second to turn towards that scream before a stick figure dressed in armor landed right on top of him and knocked him to the ground.

“Yeouch!” Purple wheezed. His health went down to half from the impact, and he shoved the stick figure off of him. Before he could get a good look at them, more screams were heard, and additional stick figures landed next to him, narrowly missing his battered body.

Why is it raining stick figures?! Purple looked bewildered between the group of stick figures. The green, blue, and yellow stick figures lay on the ground, their health at half a heart. The blue and yellow sticks were dazed, diamond armor shattered to pieces around them, while the green stick figure only had a cracked diamond helmet left.

The green one was moving, able to rise up because his fall was cushioned by landing right on Purple. He coughed, pushing himself on shaky arms and legs.

“Yellow? Blue? You-” he paused when his gaze met Purple’s. “-alive?”

Purple stared back and, unable to think of a better response, waved.

The stick figure, he presumed named Green given the naming convention, waved back. “Um, hi?”

Bang! Bang!

Purple and Green looked up at the ceiling where the noise came from. In the gloom, Purple could make out the stick figure shaped holes they fell through. A fine layer of dust fell from above.

“I take it you didn’t mine straight down,” Purple mumbled.

“Oh no!” Green forced himself up and ran to shake Blue and Yellow violently. “We don’t have time! Come on, get up!”

“What’s going on?” Purple asked, shouting over the thumping.

“Um, it’s a bit of a long story!” Green yelled back as he lifted Blue to her feet. She was waking, as was Yellow, but neither of them were in any good condition to stand for long.

“Condense it then!” Purple pulled out a potion of healing and threw it on them. The cloud restored their health to full instantly. The three stick figures leapt up, looking at their now healed bodies in shock.

“Woah! How did you do that?” Blue asked.

“Not now,” Purple waved his hands and pointed at the continuous banging above. “What is going on?”

“Ok! We found this game icon on our desktop!” Green explained, pulling out a sword. The tip cracked apart and caused him to pause as he tried to fix it.

“And we were building things with the stuff that came out,” Yellow picked up. They pulled their ax out, only to despair as it crumbled apart too, “taking turns and all that.”

“But when we gave the game icon to Red,” Blue said, staring ruefully at the busted bow in her hands. “She attacked us.”

“Attacked you?” Purple asked.

“Yeah, she wasn’t acting like herself!” Green rushed, “She just went wall eyed and hoarded the icon. We tried to stop her but…”

Bang! Purple heard blocks from above fall to the lava.

“She’s now piloting a giant block stick figure and ended up shoving us down here.” Yellow finished.

“I don’t think we have much time before she follows us here,” Blue added, clutching her head. “Oh, what are we going to do?”

Yeah, that seems like your problem, Purple thought, heart hammering wildly. He wanted a fight earlier, but given the sounds of what was coming, he opted to flee. He turned about to run before Green snatched his arm.

“Let go of me!”

“Please! You don’t have to fight for us, but we don’t have weapons or armor!” Green said. He clasped his hands together. “Please, can you lend anything?”

“I don’t have any extra swords!” Purple exclaimed. “I barely have enough potions after all the fighting I did!”

Bang! The other stick figures looked nervously at each other, rifling desperately through their belongings and finding little to help, fishing rods, crafting tables, jungle trees…

Yeah, they’re screwed, Purple thought, looking for his way back to the desktop.

“Look, I'm just going to head to the portal,” Purple said, “and if you guys have any sense, you’ll join me! Hopefully, Red will be too big to enter!”

The others looked at each other with mixed expressions, confusion, nervousness, and disdain.

“We can’t do that,” Green said, “she would be stuck here if we did that!”

“And how do you know she couldn’t smash her way through?” Yellow added.

Purple stared at Yellow and found himself glaring when he realized it made too much sense.

Ah! What do I do then? Purple thought, looking down at his wither skull helplessly. But as he stared at the empty eye sockets, Purple found an answer in them.

“Hold on,” he said, “I think I have an idea to help you with your problem.”

The plan was half baked given that they only had seconds to execute it. Yellow and Green set it up so they were ready to lure Red to the nether fortress while Purple and Blue made the wither skull statue.

Red came down from above and the very sight of the behemoth in obsidian blocks was almost enough for Purple to return to his “let’s flee to my village” idea.

“So, you are sure this thing we're summoning will be enough against her?” Blue asked.

Purple nodded even though he hadn’t a clue if the summoning would even work. “When we see their signal, just put down the last wither skull.”

Blue bit her lip, glancing from the obsidian stick figure chasing down Green, back to Purple.

“Is there a risk it would kill her?”

Purple blinked. “Aren't you trying to fight her?”

“Fight her, yes, not kill her!” Purple could see a glossy sheen form in Blue’s eyes. “I don’t know what will happen if she dies here.”

“She’ll respawn at her last checkpoint,” Purple said, but his stomach clenched. Assuming you have a respawn point set to begin with.

That didn’t give her any relief. Blue wordlessly sniffed and wiped her eyes.

In the distance, Purple saw the fishing rods fly and snag the head of the obsidian tower. “Ok, now!”

Blue placed the last head down. Upon doing so the statue turned into a three headed skeleton that let out a horrific howl. It glowed blue and was blinking rapidly.

Oh no…

“Uh, what do we do now?” Blue asked.

“Run!” Purple yelled, grabbing Blue by the hand and running away from the fortress. He cupped his hands and shouted at Yellow and Green. “Run!”

They could hardly react to the warning before a thunderous kaboom sounded behind Blue and Purple. The Wither was airborne, screeching and hurling hissing skulls right at them with wild abandon.

This is dumb! This is so dumb! Purple thought as he and the others scattered to dodge the projectiles. Why did I think summoning a giant enemy to fight another giant enemy was a good idea?!

The Wither did not discriminate. It targeted the stick figures as well as the obsidian figure. Its skulls landed right on the head and exploded it to bits. The explosion sent the red stick figure inside flying across the Nether.

Ah, I’m glad I didn’t summon that thing by my village! Purple thought. That thing is tearing through obsidian like tissue paper!

Blue raced down the walkway and held out her arms to catch Red before she landed. Yellow jumped from a ledge above to snatch the Minecraft icon that was knocked out of Red’s hands.

Despite receiving a skull missile to the face, Red was alive and kicking. She wasted no time in kicking Blue’s hold off of her and tearing after Yellow. Her expression was flat, yet her movements feral. She twitched and then lunged at Yellow, clasping at their leg. They fell to the ground with a thud and tossed the Minecraft icon further down the path.

“Oh, come on!” Purple lunged down and snatched the icon. Turning around, he saw the Wither gaining, and, in panic, he held the Minecraft icon. He visualized something stronger than obsidian, and, out from the icon, he blocked the attack with a wall of bedrock.

He protected the group of wrestling stick figures from the impact, yet his action only earned Red’s attention. Locking her fixed expression on him, she let go of Yellow and charged at Purple.

“Ah! Green, catch!” Purple tossed it just as Red pounced on his back. “Get to the portal!”

Green caught it, and started running, using his fishing rod to move across the Nether’s gaps with ease. Red, no longer interested in Purple, raced after Green. She nearly closed the gap between them with her inhumane speed, only for her to be hit down by a skull volley from the Wither above.

“Red!” Yellow and Blue exclaimed, racing to her pick her up. Even injured critically, she continued to wrestle against them, eyes locked solely on Green and the Minecraft icon.

How is she not even down? Purple thought, smacking the Wither’s volleys back as Blue and Yellow dithered.

“Come on! Leave her and get out of here!” Purple yelled.

“But-“

“No buts!” Purple turned and shoved the three over, pinning Red down to the ground. “To the portal now!”

It took a stern look and the Wither’s fast approach to cause the two to run off. Not like Purple could hold Red down long enough, as she shucked Purple off and raced after them.

I can’t let her attack my village! He thought as he ran in pursuit. He lunged his sword at her, narrowly missing her back.

“Stop! Don't kill her!” Green shouted.

Of course that idiot waited by the portal! Stunned by his stupidity, Purple wasn’t ready for Red’s quick roundhouse kick to the hand. His enchanted sword clattered far away from him, and Red ran towards the stick figures just waiting by the portal.

“No! Stop!” Purple abandoned his sword, equally as stupid as Green. “Get in the portal! Hurry!”

So many things occurred at once- Red collided into her friends, knocking them into the portal frame; Purple bowled into her back, which shoved the group through it; and as they entered, the Wither hit the portal, closing it completely behind them.

The group fell sprawling on the desktop, gasping and grunting. Purple clutched his head, wincing at the sharp pain of hitting the ground. Before him, Green, Blue, and Yellow were slowly getting up. Green held the icon. It was shuddering in his hands, glowing a bright white before suddenly fading, as if the portal did something to it.

Red lay limp on the ground. Then suddenly she jerked and writhed. A translucent outline of a Steve player avatar leapt out of her repeatedly before finally falling to the ground. As it let out a dying breath, Purple caught sight of its dead, white eyes before it poofed away.

Red was limp once more.The other three looked at her, expecting her to get up, but she remained still on the ground. They dropped the items they carried and crowded around her. Blue lifted her head up.

“Red? Red!” Blue jostled the stick figure.

“Come on, speak to us!” Green begged. Purple felt something form in his throat at the familiarity of his desperation.

“What’s happening to her health?” Yellow gasped as they held her hand.

Indeed, all the hearts of Red’s health turned black and were ticking down. An effect called “withering” was applied on her.

It’s going to kill her! Purple realized and whistled loudly. The sound spooked the three grieving stick figures, but not as much as the sudden crowd of villagers appearing out of nearby houses did.

“Lord Purple? You’re back?”

“I need a bucket of milk, stat!” Purple hollered and clapped. “Don’t waste time! A stick’s dying here!”

And no time was wasted. The villagers were quick to mobilize and toss a milk bucket to Purple. He snatched it and quickly tossed it to Blue.

“Feed it to her!” Purple quickly exclaimed, “It’ll cure her ailment.”

Confusion gone, Blue brought the bucket to Red’s lips. Indeed, the milk stopped Red’s decaying heart meter just in the nick of time. With only half a heart left, the withering effect faded, and Red let out a shuddering cough.

“G-guys?” She croaked out.

“Red? Is it really you?” Yellow asked.

“Um, yeah,” Red looked around, dazed and then pained, “I’m so sorry for what I did…”

“Shh, no, no,” Blue hushed before pulling her into a hug. Green and Yellow also wrapped their arms around the two.

“I thought we’d lose you…” Green said, muffled.

Purple watched from the sidelines as the four hugged each other. He watched until his heart couldn’t bear the sight of it.

How lucky they are.

“You’ll have to share how you saved these folks,” a villager said as they stood next to him.

“Yeah…” Purple couldn’t meet their eyes, “maybe later.”

He did a good deed, a brave one even! And yet he still felt horrid.

If only milk could cure a heartache too.

#occatorart #alan becker #animation vs minecraft #animator vs animation #second family au #ava purple #ava second coming #ava red #ava green #ava yellow #ava blue

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wheels-of-despair · 2 months

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Taking Matters Into Your Own Hands Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie's on the phone talking to a nerd, and not in bed pleasuring his beloved like he should be. Evil Woman finds a way to make him focus on the important things. Contains: A vaguely threatening attitude toward Dustin Henderson, stripping for attention, wearing Eddie's battle vest, A Warning. Words: 600ish

Dustin Henderson will be hearing from your lawyer.

You've been lying ALONE in Eddie's bed for TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES while that damn kid rambles on the phone. You gather from Eddie's side of the conversation that it's about Dungeons & Dragons. Like they don't get enough of that before school, and at lunch, and after school, and at official meetings of The Fucking Hellfire Club.

You like the kid, really you do. You like all of your Hellfire children… usually. But it's Saturday, and he's cutting in on your Eddie Time, and that is against the law. Hence the lawyer you're about to contact.

You look at your watch and roll your eyes again. That's it. You're going to have to take matters into your own hands.

No, not like that.

You're going to force Eddie to take matters into his own hands.

You didn't wear uncomfortable underwear today for nothing.

You peek down the hallway and see Eddie's back still to you, sitting at the kitchen table with the phone cradled to his ear, probably doodling something on an envelope. You roll your eyes and peel off your shirt. If this doesn't work, you're trading him in.

You take off everything except those stupid panties that have been riding up your ass all morning, and reach for Eddie's battle vest. You slip it on and turn around to check yourself out in the mirror above his cluttered desk. Not bad, Evil Woman. Not bad.

You casually stroll out of his room and into the kitchen, like your only goal is to get a drink of water. You even resist the urge to ruffle his hair as you walk by to get his attention. You approach the sink and reach up into the cabinet for a clean cup, and feel the vest lift to show off your ass.

Something clatters behind you. Did he drop the phone? You smirk to yourself and fill the cup halfway, take a sip, and set it on the counter. You slowly turn around to find Eddie staring at you with his mouth open. As you suspected, the phone is on the floor. You lean back against the counter and spread your arms along the edge, placing your palms on the cool surface to show him more of the bare skin beneath his unbuttoned vest.

Still just staring.

You can hear Dustin yelling all the way across the room.

"EDDIE! EDDIE, ARE YOU THERE?"

You cross your arms now, for maximum cleavage, and raise an eyebrow. Make the right choice, Munson.

Without taking his eyes off of you, Eddie fumbles for the phone cord and starts reeling it in. When he gets to the receiver, he holds it up to his face, mumbles "gotta go" into the wrong end, and tries to hang it up without looking. Which means banging it against the wall.

You finally take pity on him and cross the room, taking the phone from his hand and putting it back on the cradle.

He's still just staring.

You stand between his open legs and rake your fingers through his hair. Is he even breathing?

"Did I break you?" you whisper.

He nods silently, eyes wide.

"Let's try a system reboot...y?" you chuckle at your own joke and reach for his hands, placing them on your half-exposed ass cheeks. Eddie's instincts kick in, and he squeezes.

"Next time you ignore me for one of your little sheepies, I'm gonna take matters into my own hands."

He smirks.

"Which means you don't get to play."

His smirk turns to a pout.

"You feel me, Munson?"

"Yes, ma'am," he says, giving your ass another squeeze.

#writings of despair #eddue munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x evil woman

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precious-little-scoundrel · 2 months

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Dear John || Tell me you didn’t

Dear John || Masters of the Air fanfiction

Series Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways, tucked up in luxury in Beverly Hills with carts of tedious fanmail burned in her back yard each day, his letter will get lost in the mix. It’s harmless. That thought -and the booze- may loosen his pen a little too much but it’s alright, it’s not like she’ll read it. Right? Right.

Circa: August 1943

Plot: Gale Cleven learns that not only did his best friend send dubious fanmail while blind drunk, he seems to have singled out with his indomitable luck the one starlet of the silver screen capable of matching his depravity

Warnings: 18+ for suggestive and crass content, it’s pretty much two boys acting like a couple of girls at a sleepover deciphering a dirty text from one’s crush

My thanks to my baby Bri for literally being the brains behind the plot and for Christi for assuring me this ain’t trash. We shall if y’all share those sentiments…

The referenced letter link 💌

“Tell me you didn’t.” Gale managed to keep his tone calm but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit his fingertips had gone a little chilly.

“I-“ Egan threw his arms out as if a better truth might form with a little more gesticulation but nothing came, “I did, Buck.” he admitted.

“You wrote it blind drunk.” Gale reminded him with urgency, as if the reminder of its ill calculated circumstances could snatch back his letter from out of Lana Tierney’s posh mailbox.

“I did!” He agreed, “-And I sent it blind drunk. And I never thought she’d read it.”

“I saw you eat it!” Cleven’s voice was growing angry, “I made you-“

“That may have been a botched first draft to Donny’s folks instead.” Egan winced.

Both of them lapsed again into silence, staring warily at the unopened and daintily addressed envelope in Egan’s hand like it might explode at any moment.

“You sonuvabitch.” Gale breathed, two frantic pink splotches appearing on his cherub cheeked face, judgment and disbelief making a whirlpool of his eyes. “Can’t leave you alone for a minute. What all did you even say?”

“I didn’t tell her about ACORN!” John vowed like a child swearing to their sibling regarding secrets kept from mother, “I mean, i called her that but I didn’t explai-“

“-John!”

“-and I said a lotta nice things too, I think, but, I also-“ Egan scrunched his eyes up as if to either better recall or maybe banish entirely all memory of his sentiments, “-I may have mentioned wanting to give her children.”

“JOHN!”

“It can’t have been that bad, she wrote back!” Egan defended with wounded hope, holding up his still sealed prize. “Buck, swear to God, I never thought she’d read it.”

Gale slumped down next to him on the bed as if the ordeal in voyeuristic stupidity had taken something out of him. “Maybe she didn’t.” he suggested grimly. “Maybe it’s from her attorney tellin’ you to never contact her again.”

He was enjoying ruining this moment a little too much, and now Egan was growing angry he had waited to open it until confiding in his friend. Not a little anxious, and not a little smug, Egan flipped the envelope over, ready to tear its flap. That’s when he saw the kiss print. “Ha!” he barked, flipping it back up and shoving it directly in front of Gale’s crossing eyes, “Do lawyers leave lip prints?” he questioned cockily and when Gale pulled far enough away to ascertain for himself, he gave a conceding nod.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, huh.” John goaded but his heart beat a crazy and skittish rhythm as he slipped his finger inside the fold and tore at the slip.

Lovely, scented, gold embossed stationery came into view, it made Egan question how well he had washed his hands the paper was so white and pristine.

“Well?” Gale kept to a respectful distance of half a foot away from his friend on the bed, and being a good sort of man, he was not snooping or side eyeing private correspondence.

“Uh, yeah, right.” Bucky rallied himself and unfolded the missive fully, forcing his eyes to focus on deciphering charming, school girl cursive. “Get over here, Buck.” he griped at last as it was hopeless to make headway between his own nerves and Cleven’s hovering presence.

Gale didn’t move and Bucky didn’t expect him to so he scooted over herself, smashing him on the edge and held the letter out as they both leaned in.

“Dear John, -I’m sorry Major Egan, I just had to.”

“Oh shit.” Bucky swore in realization.

“She’s funny.” Gale’s tone was ever so mild.

“Nah she’s, Buck, she’s quoting me back to me I told her -nevermind, let’s see-“

They peered back at the letter together, Cleven more invested that he’d ever admit and Bucky’s heart doing the oddest little flips at the realization that someone gave enough of a damn to write this sorta thing back to him.

“Heartfelt.” Gale murmured her choice of words for Bucky’s letter aloud with something close to relief, only to be then followed by a groan- “you did not write the word ‘knockers’ in a letter to a woman!”

“You're right, you’re right,” Egan ducked his head, repentant, he wouldn’t have been the least surprised if he got a wallop from Cleven for it, “awful of me. I admitted it even then. She admits it. Let’s move on.”

“RACK!” Cleven growled moments later in growing disbelief. “Jesus, John.”

“Oh don’t act better than all of it, you know she’s got the best melons out there-“

“-you’re the one who felt compelled to write a nice young lady and tell her as much.” Buck stabbed an accusatory finger dangerously close to Egan’s nose, “And used vulgarities while at it.”

Egan gave a defensive shrug and began his reading anew. “She said she’s fizzing…over making babies.” he whispered, “With me.” John was awed and this time Cleven had no rebuttal, just ever growing wonderment on his ever reddening face. “And she says here, look! she says you’re a bad boy for breaking us up that night! HA!”

“She’s being polite Bucky,” Gale cautioned, worried at where this surge of confidence might lead, “she didn’t admit to remembering a bit of it. They send girls to school to let fellas like you down easy.”

“Aww, now she says to give ya a kiss.” Egan cooed, saccharine and wicked, “See, she’s so nice and you’re the one who’s awful, doubting her like that. She says to give ya one if you’re the sort to take it well, are ya Buck, huh? Are you? Huh?”

“No, no! Jesus, get off me!” Cleven exerted every bit of his wiry strength to lug off the sudden onslaught of Egan’s heavy embrace as they folded together back onto the bed, John’s mouth making sickening smooching noises against Cleven’s baby smooth cheek, mustache a foreign and terrifying tickle on his jaw. “Get the hell off me, what is wrong with you?”

“I’m riled, just like her, that’s what’s wrong.” Egan replied vehemently, pulling his face away but keeping a perturbed Buck beneath his greater weight. “And maybe one day you’ll know what that feels like, Goldilocks. See, says right here: *I can feel my pulse somewhere besides my wrists* Do you hear that?” He demanded, still holding the letter aloft as Gale looked up at him with the sort of patience people reserve for lunatics liable to murder them at the least hint of movement. “I’ve made her horny.” he spelled it out and Gale’s face somehow flushed an even deeper shade of scarlet. “She wants to know what acorn means.”

“Don’t you ever tell her.” Gale warned.

“Why not?”

“It’s not even a good acronym, it’s misspelled and missing a whole word.”

“She wants it to be ‘salacious’ -says so herself.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.” Bucky flipped the letter over for Gale to see and judging by the panic in his eyes he caught more lines than that one alone.

“Jesus.” he repeated, it was starting to sound like a genuine beg for divine intervention. “Get off me.”

That itching physical impulse to roughhouse remained but Egan obligingly rolled to the side, aware Buck didn’t have what would cure his own riled self. “She says she enclosed something for the morale, said to keep it safe. But there’s not anything else. You see anything else?”

“I don’t.” Buck sounded worn down but he made an effort to look around amongst the sheets.

“Julia Jean.” Egan pondered, “Says that’s her real name.”

“Yeah, well, maybe now you can stop calling her acorn every damn time she comes on screen.”

“Don’t count on it.” Egan grinned back.

“Maybe it’s still in the envelope.” Gale suggested, tentatively picking up the air mail slip and handing it to Bucky.

Egan sat up and shook the paper between them, wondering if it was really something worth hiding from the censors like some OSS spy shit. A couple of shakes and sure enough, some slippery little card shaped thing fluttered out of a crease and wafted to the ground, settling between Buck’s boots. John’s stoic young friend bent over and retrieved it, but not without his entire spine stiffening like he’d been hit as soon as he’d caught it.

“Jesus.” it was more of a wheeze this time. Gale’s slow hand raised it and passed it over.

There wasn’t anything to say, not when confronted with such perfection. Not even a shielding arm to cheat him of the whole display, nothin’ at all but a carefully cropped photograph of the ripest pair of-

“Goddamn.” John’s tongue finally materialized a sentiment and he heard Gale’s appreciative sharp intake of breath beside him as if he’d forgotten to breathe here lately. “They’re wonderful.”

“Yeah.” Gale’s own throat sounded dry as dust, “W-we should probably stop starin’.”

“Whadda ya think she sent ‘em for?” John laughed, a rough, victorious laugh, never once dragging his admiring eyes away from them or ceasing to thumb over the shiny print. He could almost feel her warm, giving flesh under the pad of his finger, could almost imagine the pebble of a rosy nipple responding to his swipes.

“Yeah, they’re alright-“

“Alright? Alright!?” Egan repeated, incensed for his beloved’s reputation, “THESE ARE THE BEST TITS IN THE NATION!”

Gale actually looked mildly chastened, especially as his eyes strayed guiltily back to the photograph like twin marbles gravitating to the corner of a box when tipped.

“I know you haven’t seen many, Buck,” Egan goaded him further, “but take it from me -they don’t get better than this. And you better enjoy this look, it’s your last, she told me to keep them safe. So see this? These? This pair? S’why we fight, Buck.”

“Don’t be crass, John,” Gale stood up abruptly, less angry at his friend than at himself for his momentary lapse of discipline, “we fight for the people we love.”

“Course we do,” John grinned, “but I also happen to love these, told her so myself.”

“You didn’t-“

“I did.” Bucky was pretty chuffed, bouncing on the edge of the bed like he had her seated in his lap right now, “Everybody’s got to have a goal, Buck, you wanna marry Marj and I wanna aggressively come on ripe knock-“

“-A.C.O.R.N. yeah, yeah.”

“Acorn.” Bucky grinned in agreement.

“You gonna admit to her you didn’t know knockers was spelled with a k?”

“I did, too! Just couldn’t make it work.”

“Still doesn't work.” Buck informed, but his smile was returning, he’d not been this close with Bucky for this long not to learn to roll with the differences and appreciate that what made his best friend tick was a very different sort of morale than his own. “I’m happy for ya, John.” he conceded, as he turned to leave, “But when you write her back -and you gotta, she’s been too kind -promise me you’ll be a gentleman about it. Apologize, like the man I know you are. Drink got the better of you, just, explain it that way.”

“Uhuh.” John gave him a sober nod, still a little dazed this wasn’t some fever dream. “Kinda already did. In the one I sent.”

“She wasn’t deterred.” Gale mused, “Either you were shit at it or she’s-“

“Zesty.” Egan deduced, sucking his teeth with a manic gleam in his eye.

“Yeah, as an orange peel.” Gale snarked and walked away, past the rows of empty beds and outside into the rain, “I’ll leave you to it.”

Bucky fell back against his mattress, sudden peace and aloneness giving him a chance to soak it in a second time, carefully reading over it all again, savoring each quip, each earnest prayer and naughty subtext. Which naturally led him back to admiring her little picture, groaning in unrestrained appreciation for her assets. She’d hinted about him taking it to his bunk -well wasn’t he fast to obey! Something possessed him to flip it over and there in the corner of the photograph, written in tiny little script, were doodles of music notes along with the ever so familiar lyrics:

“Beat me daddy, eight to the bar.”

John threw back his head and let out a roar of appreciation for finding a mirrored soul. “Oh Julie Jean, honey baby, don’t you worry, I’ll beat out somethin’ for ya, that’s for sure.”

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

Thank y’all for reading, hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s life blood, please scream at me, I thrive off it. 💋

Taglist (Lemme know in a comment below if you’d like to be added or subtracted for MOTA fics)

@stylespresleyhearted

@ab4eva

@earth-to-lottie

@suraemoon

@blurredcolour

@steph-speaks

@crazymadpassionatelove

@rubyfruitjungle

@taestrwbrry

@storysimp

@javden

@sexualparkour

@jointherebellion215

@sunny747

@ask-you-what-sir

@xxanaduwrites

@pretty4u

@yorkshirekiwi

@waitedforlove743

#mota fanfic #masters of the air #john egan x oc #dear John #john egan #bucky egan #bucky egan x oc #callum turner

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i-cant-sing · 10 months

Note

Hey snow I don't know the difference between an ask or a request but yesterday I had my second seizure and was wondering how yanderes from any of your Aus would react to us having a seizure right in front of them like a grand mal seizure if that's ok (I've been stalking you for a while and remember that request for an epilepsy reader!!)

I REMEMBER MAKING THAT POST BUT FORGOT BECAUSE I COULDNT CHOOSE A CHARACTER😭😭 I still cant, but imma go with yandere Surgeon dad Dabi because u can't go wrong with Dabi (plus lawyer Hawks)

Anyways, imagine that after the whole Keigo and Dabi calling CPS on reader's parents and having them arrested, with Keigo pretending to help reader's mom by taking her case pro bono but is actually framing her to be an unstable and unfit mom so that Keigo and Dabi can officially adopt you. Meanwhile, reader is pulling her hair out because her innocent mom is in jail and she's living with practically two strangers whose kindness apparently knows no bounds but there's still a gut feeling that is telling her to leave these guys as soon as possible but with no money and no contacts, she can't bail her mom out unless it's Keigo and his firm who helps her out and sure hes telling her to not worry and focus on school or whatever, but reader can't not worry because everytime she asks about her mother, things only seem to be getting worse for her case so now she is skipping school and lying to Keigo and Dabi about her whereabouts so that she can spend time by herself to work on her mom's case... she just needs one- one evidence to prove her innocence.

Now I imagine that for a teen who's just about to enter into adulthood and can already feel all the weight of responsibilities, she's absolutely stressed af and idk how or what triggers it, maybe she hit her head/was beaten by someone, maybe she forgot to take her meds, maybe she took too much caffeine and has been missing out on sleep for too long, but the seizures occurred... that too at the worst possible time.

Keigo and Dabi had noticed that something was up with you, you looked far too miserable and always had dark circles under your eyes, and when Keigo decided to pick you up early from school one day for a quick lunch with him and Dabi, he was surprised that you had been skipping school for many days. Later that day, when you finally returned home, they decided to confront you.

"So, how was your day?" Keigo approached the gentle approach. You shrugged, just playing with the food on your plate. "Fine."

Keigo looked at Dabi, who was practically watching you like a hawk, gaze piercing as he analysed every movement, every breath you took. He was clearly pissed; Keigo recalled his reaction when he told Dabi about how you've been skipping school for some time. Dabi was ready to send Amber Alert on your ass (he and Keigo both have contacts at the police station) but Keigo was able to calm him down, knowing well that Dabi wasnt truly mad at you, he was just worried. Concerned that you may be hurt, and although both of them care about you, Dabi is a very overprotective type of dad. And since Dabi struggle to show vulnerability, he usually masks it with anger.

"Yeah? School giving you a tough time, hm?" Keigo asked softly, ready to see if you'd lie or come clean. You paused, finally looking up from your plate.

"No... school's fine." You placed your fork down, pushing your seat back. "Can I be excused? I have a test to prepare for-"

"No." Dabi said harshly, and Keigo moved his hand to hold Dabi's, but the latter pulled it away.

You looked at them confused, more so at Dabi's tone. "Um, what?"

"Honey-" Keigo tried one more attempt at gently approaching you, but Dabi had other plans.

"You're lying." He stated, throwing his utensils on the plate. "We know youre lying. Wanna come clean now?" He asked with his arms crossed across his chest.

Your eyes widened slightly, but you composed yourself. He couldn't- they couldn't possibly know?

You cleared your throat. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now, may I be excused? I need to study-" you started standing up, hoping to leave this interrogation as quickly as possible.

"Sit down!" Dabi yelled, and you immediately sat down. "You've been lying to us! How long did you think you'd get away with it? Did you really think we wouldn't know you've been skipping school?!"

"I- I don't know-" you tried to lie again but Dabi slammed his hands on the dinner table, making you and Keigo jump.

"I swear to god- if you say you don't know one more fucking time-" Keigo sprang up and held Dabi's arm, squeezing it to tell him to calm down.

Dabi pulled his arm away from Keigo, and wagged his finger at you. "One chance- you have one chance to explain. And you better not lie this time."

Realising you had no chance to avoid this, you confessed that you had been skipping school to work on your mom's case, looking for evidence, asking around your alcoholic dad's addicted friends to tell the jury that your father was abusive to your mom both physically and emotionally, basically you were looking for anything that would help prove your mother's innocence.

So... you went back to your old house, the one in the "bad neighbourhood" and even met your dad's even worse friends, endangering yourself.

"Why didn't you just come to us? We would have helped." Keigo asked, brows raising in concern.

You nodded. "I know but I didn't want to- you're doing what you can for my mom, and I just needed to do something. I cant just sit here while she rots in her cell because of my mistake!" You looked at Dabi. "And I found something that could help her! Look, if you just- if you just come to the court and tell them that my injuries were because of some medical condition or some accident, they could potentially throw out the whole case!"

Dabi narrowed his eyes at you. "And your mom would be free."

"Yeah!"

"And your father would be free too."

You nodded. "I mean, yeah. If there isn't a case, there's. no reason for him to stay in jail."

"Have you completely lost it?! Do you hear yourself?!!" Dabi yelled, pushing away Keigo who was pulling him away from you. "No! She needs to hear this!" He looked back at you. "I dont know whether you've hit your head or if you inhaled something when you met your father's druggie friends, but suggesting to free that piece of shit, TUB OF LARD, WASTE OF SPACE, HUMAN EXCREMENT just so that you can bail schizophrenic mommy out is fucking INSANE!"

Your mouth dropped open as tears welled up in your eyes, your breathing getting shallower as Dabi's words echoed in your head.

"Dabi, stop-" Keigo started, getting in the middle of you two, but it didn't stop Dabi from yelling awful things.

"All she's done by lying to us is endanger herself! Look at her, she's not sleeping, she not eating! And all we wanted was to take care of her! But all she wants is her mentally sick mother, who news flash-! Is still not a good fucking human being! She may have been abused by her husband to become how she is, but she had plenty of time before to leave him and run away with Y/n!" And this time, Dabi looked over from Keigo's shoulder and directly at you. "And I'm not making this up, this is what the psychiatrist said in the court after she had examined your mother! She's just as much to blame as your father, Y/n! They're both shitty-!" He stopped when you broke into a sob, making Keigo turn around as well.

"Y/n, honey-" the blonde came closer, only for you to fall down to your knees as you clutched your head with your hands, eyes squeezing shut. Your breathing became shallower and your body began to slowly shake.

And Dabi instantly knew something was wrong. This was not- this is not some normal reaction to an awful reality check.

"Y/n?" Keigo called softly, pulling your hands away from your head, as you finally snapped open your eyes and they held all the dread in the world.

Dabi realised it before it actually happened.

"She's seizing!"

Your eyes rolled back and your body began convulsing violently, your body falling back, but Dabi rushed forward to catch you before you could hit your head.

"Keigo, grab a pillow!" He ordered as he glanced at the clock and began timing your seizure. Keigo grabbed a pillow and as Dabi lifted your head, he slid it underneath to cushion your head.

Dabi then turned your body to the side, looking over your body going through alternating tonic clonic stages. Your limbs would violently jerk first, your eyes blinking rapidly before falling into the next stage where your entire body would stiffen and your back arches at an unusual angle, your body losing control of your muscles and bowel incontinence follows.

Keigo could only watch in horror as your body went through painful movements and you urinated yourself unconsciously.

"Dabi-" the dread in his voice wasn't missed by Dabi, but the doctor only told him to calm down and wait as he kept looking between you and the clock.

4 minutes. For 4 minutes, you convulsed.

Dabi had already narrowed down the causes for your seizure, as you never had a history of epilepsy, and now you had one episode probably because of all the stress you've been under, coupled with lack of sleep and food and excessive intake of caffeine, making him feel awful for yelling at you instead of-

"Dabi." Keigo called, nodding his head at you.

You slowly opened your eyes, your vision still blurry but you could make out Dabi and Keigo's faces.

From all prolonged contractions, your muscles were now fatigued and you felt extremely tired and confused.

"W-what happened?" You asked, not realising that you were on the floor or that you had wet yourself.

Dabi swallowed thickly, pushing all his concern down. "You- you had a seizure."

"I did?"

"Yes. But you don't need to worry, I'll take care of it. You must be feeling tired, hm?"

You closed your eyes and hummed. You did feel tired.

"Its okay, you go to sleep, then. I'll be here when you wake up, okay?" You only hummed as Dabi leaned down to kiss your sweaty forehead, while Keigo took off his jacket and wrapped it covered you with it.

As you fell into a deep slumber, Dabi collected you in his arms and nodded at Keigo to take the car out. They were gonna take you to the hospital, just to confirm his diagnosis and make sure that you don't actually have epilepsy. And if you do, then get you all the proper medication and treatment for it.

Your cheek rested against Dabi's chest, his heart melting as you nuzzled closer. Keigo broke several traffic laws as he sped through the streets, but he only had to take one look at you to remember how utterly helpless he felt while you seized. To do nothing but wait... until that 5 minute mark hit and realise the danger you were in.

One thing is for sure-

Dabi and Keigo are never letting you out of their sights ever again. Ever.

#yandere surgeon dabi #yandere dad dabi #yandere dabi #yandere keigo takami #yandere lawyer hawks #yandere hawks #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 3 months

Text

Sonny Carsisi: [Not] Guilty

Warning: This one is short and angsty

Part 2

You opened the door to find a flustered-looking Dominick Carisi. He was still in court clothes and his hair was perfectly styled. Only his face showed his exhaustion and his unease. After your appraisal, you cross your arms over your chest, lips in a firm line. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to check on you,” You scoff at that rolling your eyes at him, “I know this day has been rough-”

“Really, now you're worried about me?” You watched the hurt flash in his eyes and you know you should feel bad, but after the day you had you couldn’t feel anything at all.

“Of course, I have been worried about you.” He reaches out to you, but you dunk back.

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Your voice raises but just barely. Sonny’s expression grows cloudy with emotions that you resist picking apart. Your eyes instead stare over his shoulder. An older woman comes out from her apartment across the hall. Her eyes sweep over you in search of new gossip. You probably look like you're in a lover's quarrel. You bite the inside of your cheek at the realness of that. Sonny eyes the woman who is taking her sweet time to lock her apartment and head to the elevator.

“Let’s talk about this inside.” His whispers, his voice taking on a soothing tone. “I can explain-” He gently starts easing you back into your door, but you hold your ground a firm hand on his chest pushing him back. You feel the muscles under his shirt and have no doubt that he has the strength to bulldoze you over. Instead, he stops like he hit a stonewall.

“No,” He says your name and you shake your head, “You can’t come inside. I’m still cleaning up the mess from CSU. I won’t invite you in and have you ‘accidentally’ find something incriminating in my apartment. I shouldn’t even be talking to you without a lawyer.”

“Now wait, just hold on a second.” Sonny grasped firmly at your shoulder. A touch that once made you feel so warm now left you cold. “This case has nothing to do with you.”

“Nothing to do with me?” You shoot back with a humorless laugh, shrugging off his touch. “You got a warrant signed to have my apartment searched! You didn’t even have the decency to give me a heads-up that they were coming!”

“I couldn’t do that, and you know it!”

“Why because you think I would hide evidence?”

“Because I was doing my job. Your cousin is living here. He’s being charged with rape and murder. I didn’t have a choice.” Sonny's voice raised before he seemed to get control of himself and lowered it back down.

“I told you; he isn’t good for this.” You feel tears burn at the back of your eyes and you look up and blink them back to keep from crying.

“That’s what everyone always thinks of family. I understand you want to protect him. But you weren’t with him that night. His DNA was at the crime scene.” Sonny tries to cup your cheeks, to get you to look at him. You shake your head pushing him back again. For the first time, you feel like he isn’t listening to you. He is trying to railroad you. He isn’t on your side, or your team. He’s against your family and that makes him against you.

“No, he didn’t do this.” You repeat and you look at your boyfriend of just shy of a year and see the end in his eyes. “And you're the ADA going against him. I can’t have contact with you.”

“Baby, this trial could take months-” He cuts off and you know the second he understands. The moment he sees the end in your eyes too.

When the relationship hits its end, and the door is closed, and the deadbolt is locked in place you have no idea that part of him is already on the other side with you. It would take you four months and the end of the trial that ruined your relationship before you figured it out. Then another week before you could find the strength to tell him.

I am thinking about turning this into a miniseries if anyone is interested. It will talk about the case but will mostly focus on what happens after the case has ended and how the relationship with Sonny will progress.

#law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #svu #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #sonny carisi imagine #dominick carisi #sonny carisi x you

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what-if-nct · 7 months

Text

NCT reaction to someone making fun of their plus size girlfriend. Part 1

Part 2

Taeil: "Hey" Taeil cupped your face in his hands as he noticed tears began to form in your eyes as strangers hurled insults toward you. "Do you want to get out of here?" His voice was soft as he wiped your tears with his thumbs. The moment you nodded in his hands he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the area not stopping till you were alone outside. He sat down and reached for you to sit in his lap but you resisted as you stood there a little too aware of how much bigger you are than him. "No, no we've been over this get over here" he swiftly pulled you into his lap holding you tightly as he looked up at you. "Don't even think about what they said. There is nothing wrong with your size. Your perfect as you are." He brought you close to his chest. "I love you as you are" Taeil pressed his lips against yours as his hands absentmindedly rubbed your thigh to soothe you.

Johnny: "Look at me" Johnny guided your eyes to his "Screw those guys, their opinions don't matter" he held eye contact with you so deeply it was hard for you to not fight against his hand on your chin. "Only a miserable person would care this much about someone else's body. Don't listen to them. " Johnny said as he wiped your tears with the sleeve of his sweater. "Let's get out of here" he wrapped his arm around you and tucked you into his chest as he led you out while staring the men who teased you down. Intimidating them with a single look and mouthing threats you couldn't make out but the men understood and remained quiet as you two passed by.

Taeyong: "Honey" Taeyong's bright dewy eyes met yours as you sniffled back tears. "You know what they're saying isn't true right? You're beautiful and there is nothing wrong with your body. You have to know that." His voice broke as he held back his own tears. "Why are people so mean?" He wrapped you in his arms as the tears both of you held back emerged. "I don't know" you cried the pain in your voice causing Taeyong's heart to break. "You're not those mean things they're saying about you. You're perfect, beautiful, amazing and I love you. You don't deserve this" Taeyong rocked you in his arms as his lips pressed into your hair.

Yuta: "You know none of the things their saying is true right?" Yuta held your face in his hands. You nod "And they're just dumbasses with small dicks with nothing better to do with their lives" You nod "And you're body is beautiful and I love every bit of you. You know all that right?" You nod once more. "Good, now here's my phone, wallet and keys call my lawyer if I get arrested" he kissed the top of your head, slid on brass knuckles and ran off in the direction of the men who were making fun of you.

Kun: "Are you okay?" Kun noticed you going silent as whispered insults surrounded you. You only nodded as you tried to continue dinner but you no longer had the appetite to eat. Kun called the waiter over asking for the check and for some to go containers. He didnt pressure you to speak as he packed up both of your meals and paid the check. He stood taking your hand in his and removing you from the restaurant as quickly as possible. Once outside he brought you close into his chest "No one has the right to talk about your body like that" he squeezed you tightly in his arms. "I'm so sorry I couldn't move any faster" he held you tighter wanting to protect you as much as possible.

Doyoung: "Don't worry." Doyoung ran his hand down your hair as he stood in front of you "Who do you think you're talking about?" He walked closer to the men who spoke about you unkindly. "I just want to know what kind of man would talk about a woman's body like that." His arms were crossed as he got into their face. The men back tracked which only made Doyoung chuckle. No words were said Doyoung just shoved the guy he was faced with until you pulled him away. Doyoung held his hands up and promptly wrapped his arm around you and turned away from the man on the floor. "Fuck that guy, you're so much more than the mean things people say" Doyoung held you close to his chest as you both walked away. .

Ten: "No, no none of that" Ten picked up a napkin and wiped your tears as the sound of mean girls taunting you broke you into a million pieces. "Don't waste tears on people whose opinion doesn't matter" he dried your cheek with his thumb. "You know I love you. And you know you I think you're the most beautiful girl in the world. But do you think you are?" Ten fixed the mascara that ran under your eyes. "You are hesitating a little too long for me. You do know that your body isn't the problem, it's everyone else that's the problem right?" He tucked your hair behind your ear as his eyes held yours. You nod quietly against his hand. "Now again and I better hear yes. Do you think you're beautiful just as you are?" He asked once more. The moment he felt you nod in his hand he pressed his lips against your cheek. "Good, and that's the only opinion that should matter."

Jaehyun: "Hey, don't let them get to you" Jaehyun pulled you closer as you two were sat on a bench. "It's stupid they're so upset about your weight" Jaehyun tucked you into his chest blocking out the noise that surrounded you both as he guided you to your feet. "You're so much better than anyone who doesn't have anything else better to do with their time." He stood and led you away from where you were. Once they were no longer in ear shot Jaehyun ran his hand along your cheek "Your perfect as you are and you never have to worry about anything as silly as your weight" He rubbed your cheek just before pressing his lips against yours.

Winwin: Winwin placed his hands over your ears almost immediately. He ran his thumbs across your cheeks drying your tears as he looked around the mall his eyes meeting exactly what he was desperately searching for. "come on" his hand fell from your ears and grabbed your hand. Quickly he pulled you into a store that was completely empty besides a single employee at the register "Are you okay?" He looked down at you his face full of worry as he looked into your teary eyes. "I hate when people talk about you like that" His deep voice was soft. "I hope you know none of that's true and I would never think that about you" Winwin held your hand in his as his usually shy eyes were staring at only you. "You're exactly as you should be and you'll always be beautiful to me" he pressed his lips into the back of your hand before wrapping you in his arms.

Jungwoo: "Hey, hey, don't listen to those guys" Jungwoo called your attention up to him as you were stirring the ice around in your drink. "Do you want to eat somewhere else? We don't have to be here." Jungwoo reached across the table to hold your hand. The moment you say "it's fine, I'm used to it" Jungwoo's eyes become teary as he watches you avoid eye contact. "You shouldn't be." His voice breaks "You shouldn't be used to being treated like this. Why? Because of your size?" Tears began to fall from his eyes "That isn't fair" Jungwoo felt what you've experienced your whole life in those seconds. "You don't deserve that" he brought your hand close to his chest. "We're leaving" Jungwoo sniffled back his tears. "This shouldn't be normal and with me it never will be normal again." He stood taking your hand and guiding you up. He carried your things and wrapped his arm around you holding you as close as possible as he walked you out of the restaurant.

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bbanghiitomi · 2 months

Text

PART III: you give me headaches...

| masterlist | previous | next |

synopsis: first day of trial will surely put some pressure into your bones, but you'd rather think about how annoyingly enchanting this prosecutor is than the sudden need to scream in embarrassment — add the fact your client isn't cooperating.

pairing: idol!prosecutor!mdanielle × non-idol!defense-lawyer!fem!reader

U⁠ ⁠´⁠꓃⁠ ⁠`⁠ ⁠UU⁠ ⁠´⁠꓃⁠ ⁠`⁠ ⁠UU⁠ ⁠´⁠꓃⁠ ⁠`⁠ ⁠UU⁠ ⁠´⁠꓃⁠ ⁠`⁠ ⁠UU⁠ ⁠´⁠꓃⁠ ⁠`⁠ ⁠UU⁠ ⁠´⁠꓃⁠ ⁠`⁠

Day 2: Trial

"i think i've done enough voice training for this." you mutter, arms crossed on your chest as you breathe steady breaths — you would love to not think about anything other than the amount of trust mrs. jeon has put on you. it's like gambling, considering the fact you've never really been into an actual courtroom before. "you sure did! i've never heard you as loud as you are today before." hyein bobs her head with a proud smile, you definitely have a loud voice but a very gentle personality — can get snarky but very easily embarrassed.

"you think i'm gonna be fine?" you ask hyein, pulling your arms off of your chest and opening your hands to show off your sweaty palms. hyein laughs and shakes her head. "ah, you think too much! just chill, the worst thing that could happen today is mr. jeon getting a guilty verdict." she shrugs, you look at her with a sweaty forehead, hoping to god she won't manifest a bad fate.

"oh you don't say that..." you wish min heejin was here to give you a heads up, it's not good for your health to be absolutely shaken by a bad verdict, disappointing mr. jeon and his wife that he obviously loves very much.

apparently, mr. jeon likes to differ.

"come on judge! just give me that g-verdict already!" he shouts with all his chest puffed up as he is being escorted by the bailiffs to the lobby. you grimace, completely not understanding what's gotten into your client, why is he like this?

"that's bad, why does he want a guilty verdict so bad." you mutter to yourself as you tap your shoes on the floor, hyein sighs and scratches the back of her head. it's not the first time she's seen clients like this, her mama has gone through the same before based on her stories.

but knowing you, you're probably about to piss your pants now.

"that's probably just what he thinks, he must be thinking that he's guilty." hyein tries to calm your spirits down, but there's nothing as bad as hearing your client blatantly admitting his crimes, it's ridiculous!

how do you have more faith for him than he does with himself?

is it just right you hold on to his innocence when he doesn't even see it?

this is so messed up.

"mr. jeon please don't say that. we all know you're innocent." you tell him, making sure to make a very serious eye contact with him. he seems to shift his gaze away, not wanting to look at you straight in the eyes — you feel something click inside you, this must be some sort of a habit he does when something isn't right.

you ignore it and sigh. "well then, i'm going to need your full participation in the trial. your wife believes you, she's going to be really sad if you get a verdict other than not guilty." you continue, raising a brow at him. he ignores your remark and continues to do his thing before he finally things of answering.

"see if i care. i just gotta let things go which way it wants, there's no fighting back — you get what i'm saying?" he tells you, you grumble and bite your inner cheek. "i don't get it." you tell him.

there's a pair of footsteps right behind him, and you assume the big man has got to be his father.

"don't just say things like that, listen to your lawyer, young man." his father scolds him, you give the old man a look before nodding.

"we've been doing this business for so long, and you want me to be scared of some prosecutor!? beside, i'm not gonna find any other job when this is what i was made for." mr. jeon argues, and you start to worry about what kind of job his family has, you feel your knees tremble and you couldn't help but laugh sheepishly.

"you don't know what you're talking about." his father says.

hyein looks at the father-son duo and you, before chuckling. "sounds like, they've been doing some good voice training too." she says, you put a hand on your forehead before sighing.

you start to sweat harder and thinking to yourself.

this isn't good, how come i have not realized this sooner? i'm so screwed, why have i never thought of talking to my client before this trial?

10:00AM — District Court, Room 304.

"the court is now in session for the trial of jeon heojoon." there's other people inside the courtroom beside you, hyein, danielle, the judge and the defendant. you already expected this but it still feels like something you never knew was about to come.

you know what to say. "the defense is ready, your honor!" you say, hoping your voice wasn't as loud.

danielle giggles, snapping her finger. "i'm ready as always, your honor." with so much confidence, she tells the court.

you're so screwed, you don't like the way she's looking at you with her glimmering eyes, the way she's currently looking like an absolute star.

god, you hope she'd disappear from your sight.

but that's just not possible right now, beside the lights and the expensive accessories on her— she's just probably one of those things inside this courtroom that shines so bright it could hurt your eyes.

you hate it at the same time it's mesmerizing.

"as always, danielle doesn't fail to impress everyone." hyein shakes her head with a playful sigh, you hate how accurate it was — danielle is just truly... impressive without much effort.

"ah prosecutor danielle, you're back! long time no see, were you on a leave absence?" the judge asks, looking over his seat, seemingly fond of danielle's presence.

ah — how do you compete with that?

"oh, you know i've had so much free time that i have thought of joining a girl group for fun. we've been doing quite well and i just thought i'd give the career a much deserved attention." hyein watches as danielle talks, it seems like hyein herself knows how important the group is to danielle and her performance as a member too. you would hate to admit that they're very close but it's just the truth.

unfortunately not close enough for hyein to know anything other than danielle's life as an idol.

"it's just hard to say no to your fans when our songs went super viral, right hyein?" you look at hyein who perks up at the mention of her name and laughs and you don't fail to notice her thick australian accent. "oh yeah! say judge, what's your fave song!?" hyein asks, smiling at the judge who immediately starts thinking to himself.

"ah! i love your songs but my favorite would have to be super shy! such a great song." you grimace, starting to think everything here is just a huge joke to them — you're seriously about to cry, it's not helping that the sudden surge of fear starts crawling up and they're all laughing!

"ah... i was a bit worried. you might still be concerned about that one trial." the judge says, danielle shakes it off and looks at you. "i wouldn't want to miss this one, your honor. this is worth more than any fanmeets and photocards of my group, right? i'm also curious about what this girl has to bring to the table — min heejin's cute little minion!" she says with so much enthusiasm, you furrow your brows but ignore it before shaking your head.

hyein does nothing but just stare at danielle doesn't say anything too, you think — she might be thinking about something but doesn't want to say as it was out of her usual.

with a hit of the gavel, you know it's time to take your stand seriously.

"understood, now will you start giving your opening statements?" the judge tells danielle, but she shakes her head with a mischievous smile on her face.

"can i say something? isn't this courtroom too serious?" she says, the judge widens his eyes and speaks. "it is the court of law after all."

"we need to get the audience jumping up and pumped up." she snaps her fingers and the courtroom starts playing some stupid music, to which you grumble and the judge looks at her in disbelief.

"the audiences are not going to jump! this is a courtroom!" he scolds the prodigy prosecutor.

"in order for me to get down to prosecuting, i need to get up first! so, the victim — a doctor in the seoul center, dr. park minseok was found driving a food truck inside the public freedom park." danielle starts explaining, a very proud and distinctive smile on her pretty face. you stare at her in disbelief as you watch her from the other side.

"oh why? i wonder why a doctor would be driving around using a food truck?" the judge asks, danielle nods and looks at the judge. "oh well? the only way to find out is to ask the defendant, right? because it's an undeniable truth that mr. jeon shot dr. park." danielle finishes.

you look at her before swallowing a lump in your throat. "calling it, undeniable, seems a bit of a stretch." you tell the prosecutor, who then only gives you a smile before leaning on the bench and gesturing to mr. jeon.

"hey, if you're going to glare at anyone, why not do it to your brave client? because his crime was witnessed, quite clearly." she argues back, calmer than you will ever be. you sigh and look at the judge who nods his head.

"oh very well, please admit this witness to the stand." he says and danielle snaps her fingers and in less than a second, the courtroom became silent, every chatters die down and it leaves everyone, you, the judge, and hyein all in a state of confusion.

"i swear, i'm starting to think danielle's a fairy." you roll your eyes as hyein speaks.

danielle stands there, not saying anything until the judge says something. "what's the matter?"

danielle shakes her head. "judge, what about the motive? why would the son of a very famous family, intend to murder a doctor?" you widen your eyes before slamming your hand on the bench.

"objection!" you shout, your voice echoing the whole room and surprising the judge. "that's! no! mr. jeon does not have to explain anything!" danielle only laughs and smiles at you, endearingly.

"but what if he wants to? he requested that he gives a shout out to his gang." the judge widens his eyes when he hears danielle say that, he hits the gavel. "what does that mean!?" he asks, the chatters grow louder.

no way... this is! unfair! you think to yourself.

"when our manager tells us to hit the stage with heat and ferocity, danielle really did huh? she got you good." hyein comments causing you to rub your forehead with a deep sigh.

"well then, it's unusual but we may have the defendant stand about his motives." the judge says.

right there, you know you'd be screwed. it may not be over yet, but it's just starting... danielle might no go easy on you...

#newjeans #kpop #kpop imagines #female reader #girl group #newjeans imagines #girlgroup imagines #danielle #newjeans danielle #danielle new jeans #danielle x reader #danielle marsh #mo jihye

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Star Child Part 8

Out of the frying pan, but did they land in the fire? Steve certainly thinks so.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

***

Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin had barely gotten to the parking lot when suddenly all their phones were blowing up. Steve had tried contacting Eddie first, but when that failed, he had tried all of them. Whatever it was the matter, it certainly had freaked Steve out enough to try and get a hold them by any means necessary.

Jeff was the one that managed to answer his phone before Steve hit voicemail and called one of the others.

“Hey, man,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“Is everyone okay?” Steve asked, his voice trembling.

“I’m going to put you on speaker so you can hear all of us at once, okay?” Jeff said soothingly.

“Yeah...” Steve muttered. “Yeah.”

Jeff put it on speaker and one by one the others chimed in.

“Gareth here,” he said, “You’re kinda freaking us out, man.”

“Are you guys still at the club?” Steve gasped.

“No, dude,” Brian said. “That place is creepy as fuck.”

“You got out okay?” Steve asked, his voice cracking from emotion.

“Stevie baby,” Eddie cooed. “I’m okay. But um...you’re not going to like this.”

“Your Uber driver is pissed you left him hanging?” Steve breathed through the speaker of Jeff’s phone.

All four members looked at each other in shock.

Eddie gulped. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Are you still in the parking lot?” Steve asked.

“Our Uber just pulled up,” Brian said and wandered to the car, but Jeff stopped him.

“Call the driver,” Gareth said. “Make sure it’s the right guy.”

Brian stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at the club. The music could still be dimly heard out here on the pavement. The lights pulsed in a twisted way. He pulled out his phone and dialed the number the app gave him.

And instantly the man in the sedan picked up his phone.

They all sighed in relief.

Brian walked up to the driver’s side window and the man rolled down the window.

“Hey, man,” Brian said, waving his phone. “We’re tourists and wanted to make sure we had the right car. You’re Vince, right?”

“Hey, no troubles,” Vince said. “I’m one of the few drivers willing to pick up from this club, so I get it.”

Dread pooled in Eddie’s stomach. “Steve baby,” he said to Jeff’s phone, “Can I call you back on my phone? It’ll be quick I promise.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah okay.”

Jeff hung up and they piled into the car, Brian taking the front seat. Eddie called Steve up and immediately Steve answered.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered. “What’s got you around the twist, Stevie?”

“I’ll tell you once you’re at the hotel,” Steve said. “But um...I don’t want to hang up.”

“And I won’t,” Eddie murmured. “So talk to me, tell me about how recording is going.”

“We’re stalled out for the moment,” Steve murmured. “The label is pissed that I did four of the five albums in three years and am about to churn out the last one.”

Eddie winced. “You able to do anything about that?”

“Robin and I have a meeting with a kick ass contract lawyer tomorrow,” Steve said with the first hint of smile Eddie’s heard all night. “Plus, Robin is super smart and made it air tight.”

“That’s good, sweetheart,” Eddie said. “You still writing songs for this album?”

“Hell no,” Steve said. “I haven’t wrote anything new for these guys ever. I have notebooks filled with old songs and I pick the ten or so worst songs imaginable and record those.”

Eddie blinked, his jaw dropping. “Are you telling me those absolutely horrific songs that you have been putting out is a deliberate fuck you to your record label?”

Steve laughed, bright and beautiful and Eddie’s heart clenched at the sound. God, if this kept up, Eddie would have to admit to being in love with this boy.

“Yep,” Steve said, popping the P.

Eddie laughed too. “Oh my god, that makes so much more sense, because you are so fucking talented...”

“And those songs are shit?” Steve teased.

“You have no idea, Stevie,” Eddie said grinning.

The car came to a stop and they were at their hotel.

“We’re at the hotel,” Eddie said as they all piled out.

Steve let out another shuddering breath. “‘Kay, now stay in the lobby or go to the restaurant.”

Jeff and Eddie share glance as they do as Steve asked.

They all huddle around the phone at a table in the hotel restaurant. They order drinks and an appetizer.

“What’s going on, Steve?” Brian asked.

“Okay,” Steve said, “I want to apologize for the cloak and dagger routine, but you guys were in the club of the biggest crime lord in the Austin area.”

The Corroded Coffin boys went offline.

After a moment Gareth squeaked, “Come again?”

“I’m going to send you a link to the documentary I did the voice over for a couple years back on the guy,” Steve said. “But the tl’dr of the whole thing is that he is absolutely the most dangerous man you’ll ever meet.”

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed. “I pissed him off.”

Steve let out a noise that was somewhere in the vicinity of a whimper and a scream. “Why?”

“He wanted me to stay in town tomorrow,” Eddie explained, “and let the band take the bus to the next venue and then I would take his private jet to Santa Fe to be in time for the sound check.”

“Oh,” Steve breathed as though he had been sucker punched. “Oh god. I’m so glad you turned him down, but Jesus H Christ, Eds.”

Eddie nodded even though Steve couldn’t see him. “What would have happened, Stevie?” There was silence. “Don’t. Don’t go there. Don’t make me find out from a fucking documentary. Just...tell me.”

“Depends on what he wanted from you, I guess,” he whispered.

Eddie closed his eyes and could fill in the rest. Yeah, he wouldn’t have made it out of Austin. He would have been drugged and ‘he’ would send a message to the band that he was staying in Austin with Henry Creel. And then probably dropped off a complete mess, addicted to all kinds of drugs and drunk off his ass in the middle of nowhere when Henry was done with him.

“Shit, Steve-o,” Jeff murmured. “What would this dude want with Eddie?”

“My guess?” Steve said solemnly. “A pet rockstar. Who better then Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin? He probably would have let Eddie release a couple of solo albums just to prove how much control he had over him, but yeah. It’s fucking terrifying.”

“What should we do?” Gareth asked.

Steve took in a deep breath. “Take a flight to Santa Fe. Have the bus follow behind. Make sure your instruments are on separate bus.”

Jeff let out a whine. “You have to understand how insane that sounds.”

“I know,” Steve murmured. “But I really, really don’t want to read the headline tomorrow night that your tour bus rolled over and you’re dead or in the hospital on life support.”

“Babe,” Eddie said desperate. “I’ll do it for your sake. But shit this sounds batshit crazy.”

“Just–just watch the documentary, okay,” Steve said softly. “And then tell me I’m being paranoid.”

Brian buried his head in his hands and dragged his fingers over his face. “No, I’m with Steve on this one. That place gave of these vibes that screamed death and pain. And if this guy is even an ounce of evil he says he is, then we do as Steve-o says.”

The band looked around the table and then nodded.

Later that night when they were huddled in Eddie’s hotel room on the bed as the credits rolled on the documentary Steve sent them, the room as so silent a pin dropping would have sounded like a bomb going off.

“Okay,” Gareth said, his voice trembling. “Does anyone else think Steve undersold how creepy this guy is?”

Brian let out a shaky breath. “Maybe not quite undersold, but yeah, I don’t think there is anyone that would have believed it if not for the documentary.”

“Now I understand why he was blowing up our phones,” Jeff murmured.

But Eddie stayed silent. He tapped out a message on his phone.

-I’m sorry I scared you. But after seeing the doc, I don’t think I could have avoided meeting him if I wanted to.

A brief moment passed before Eddie got a response.

-I’m starting to get that, yeah. I’m so glad you got out of there, you have no idea.

Eddie sighed and laid down on the bed. The rest of the band cuddled around him.

-Looks like Corroded Coffin is avoiding Austin for a while.

Steve message was almost instantaneous.

-I’m sorry sunshine. I’m sorry he picked you.

Eddie shook and Gareth pulled him closer.

-I’m glad you reached out. How did you find out about it anyway?

-Gareth’s ig auto updates his location so fans know where you guys are if you guys are down to party

Eddie kissed Gareth hard on the top of his head. “You absolute menace! I love you!”

Gareth looked up at him confused. “What did I do?”

“Steve found out where we were because your god damn Instagram!” Eddie kissed his head again.

Gareth’s eyes went wide. “Seriously? Mine or CCofficial?”

Eddie asked.

-CCofficial, but it’s the worst kept secret that it’s Gareth that runs it.

“He says official,” he told the band.

Jeff sat up and pulled out his phone. He began searching through the millions of followers on their official Instagram. “Holy shit, guys. He’s been following us for as long as we’ve had ig account.”

Brian shrugged. “We all know he’s a fan. So what if he’s been our fan since the beginning?”

The rest of them thought about that for a minute and then shrugged.

-Good to know

-Me and the boys are all in my hotel room and going to sleep now

Steve sent back a message

-Sweet dreams, and let me know when you’re on your way out of town

-Will do, babydoll

Eddie set his phone on the nightstand and snuggled up with his band. It had been a couple of years since they had to do this, but they all knew they would sleep better together than apart.

One by one the boys dropped off until it was just Eddie watching over the men that had become his family. The Munsons had always run thin aground on the genetic department, but Eddie had found his family as surely as god made them.

***

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List:

@bejeweledbaby @eboyawstenn @moonshadows-13 @ohlook-afrog @goodolefashionedloverboi @linkydinky06 @livelaughlexa @spectrum-spectre @cutepumpkin4 @whatthemeepever @gleek4twd @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @novelnovella @celtrose-ish @artiststarme @plasticcrotches @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @anaibis @nelotegreitic @steddieassheg0es @abstractnaturaldisaster @scheodingers-muppet @tiny-enthusiast @yes-im-your-mom @thegingerrapunzel @milf-harrington @avacrebs @gregre369 @raisedbylibrarians @reverseteehee @lillys-weird-world @deadlydodos @runyousillydetective @justrandomfandomstm @piebook67 @clumsywriter @donttouchmycarrots @fiore-della-valle @idkareallyreallygoodname @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @ravenpainter @ellietheasexylibrarian @maya-custodios-dionach @child-of-cthulhu

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #rockstar au #song fic #ladykailtiha writes

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 2 months

Text

She Likes You Anyway

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: Foster care (please don't read if the subject matter is triggering for you!) Word count: 1,705

You sat on the couch, staring at the door and furiously tapping your legs. Casey squeezed your hands between hers to keep them from shaking. Even so, you rocked slowly back and forth, the rhythm and movement calming you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Casey asked, a concerned expression on her face.

“Well, it’s a little late to turn back now.”

Casey sighed and circled her thumbs over your hands. “What are you worried about?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, that I’ll be a shit parent?”

“Hey,” she said, grabbing your head to hold you steady.. “We’ve been over this. You are kind and empathetic and you make people feel safe. And you’re great with kids.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, slowing your tapping.

“If anybody should be worried, it’s me,” Casey added. “I really didn’t want a baby.”

It was your turn to comfort Casey now. She tried to look strong–she always did. But she was biting her lip and picking at the corner of her nails, telltale signs that she was more anxious than she let on. You drew circles with your fingers on her thighs.

“You’re gonna do great,” you said. “We already did the most important thing right.”

“What do you mean?”

“We kept the siblings together.”

Casey shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” she mumbled.

“No, Case,” you said, your voice emphatic. “I’m definitely right. You don’t get it as much because you don’t have siblings. My siblings are my life, you know that. It would have killed me to be separated from them. And we–you–said yes to a baby, even though it’s not what you planned for, so they could stay together.”

Casey exhaled shakily and leaned her head against your shoulder. “What if we fuck up our foster kids, Y/N?”

“I mean, at least we had good intentions,” you replied, chuckling slightly.

“I’m serious!” she complained, pushing you slightly.

“Look, we’re gonna be fine. And they’re gonna be fine. You’re spiraling more than me now. We gotta pull it together.”

You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and breathing her in. You both jumped when a knock on the door interrupted your silence.

Casey stood quickly, smoothing her hair, then extending a hand to you. “Well,” she shrugged. “Here goes.”

You’d been given almost no information about the kids. All you knew was that there would be three of them, and one of them was under a year old. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t out-of-your-mind nervous. Three kids for your very first foster placement. But the bottom line was that there were three kids who needed a place to stay, where they’d be safe and loved and together. And you and Casey could provide that for as long as they needed it.

You opened the door to a very frazzled case worker with a baby on her hip, a toddler holding her hand, and another child hiding behind her back.

Casey invited them in, always better with the formalities than you, and the caseworker nearly ran to the couch, shoving the baby into your arms. Your maternal instincts, honed from years of big sisterhood, kicked in, and you quickly cradled him in your arms. You breathed him in, that specific, powdery baby smell, that reminded you so much of your brother when he was this age.

“Hi,” you cooed at him. “Hi, little man.” He immediately clenched his fists and bawled, squirming in your arms. “Okay,” you said, running a hand through his dark curls. You repositioned him so that his face was pressed into your chest and bounced him around the room.

You looked at Casey and the caseworker, who sat on the couch over a pile of paperwork. You’d never been more relieved to have a lawyer for a partner. You also smiled to notice that the toddler, a little girl, was seated in between them, sucking her thumb, and that Casey’s hand was resting on her back.

The two of you made eye contact across the room, and she furrowed her eyebrows at you, as if to ask, Are you okay? You nodded back, pressing the sobbing baby closer to your chest, and whispered, “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

The oldest child sat on the opposite end of the sectional, fiddling with a fidget spinner. Her shoulders were hunched protectively inward, hood pulled up, and she avoided your eyes as you walked closer.

“I bet you know the best ways to calm him down,” you said, sitting down next to her as the baby hiccuped in your lap, red-faced.

The older girl shot a furtive glance at you, then looked away again.

“What’s his name?” you asked.

“King,” she whispered, so quietly you almost couldn’t hear.

“King,” you repeated. “Cool name for a cool kid, huh?”

Hearing his name seemed to calm King down a bit, and he leaned into you, spent. You rubbed his back absentmindedly and turned your attention to the withdrawn girl on the edge of the couch.

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “And, uh, the lady over there is Casey. I know you probably have a lot of feelings right now, and you might be scared.” The girl tensed. “That’s okay. And you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But Casey and I are gonna make sure that you’re safe and taken care of, and we’re here for whatever you need, okay?”

She was silent for a long time, reaching out a finger to let King wrap his hand around it. You’d just about given up on any further conversation when she said, “Are you gay together?”

You grinned, trying not to laugh. “Yep. Yeah, we are.”

Her face scrunched up, like she was thinking very deeply about your relationship.

“I’m Imogen,” she finally said.

“Nice to meet you, Imogen.” She still wouldn’t look at you, but it was a start. And who were you to judge, anyway? You didn’t like eye contact either.

“She’s really pretty,” Imogen said, inclining her head toward Casey, who now held the toddler in her lap.

“She is.” You leaned in closer to Imogen, as if to tell her a secret. “I really lucked out.”

“She’s taller than you.” Day one, and Imogen was already laying it all out on the table.

“She sure is.”

“And your hair is like a boy.”

“Yep,” you said, running a hand through it.

“She likes you anyway.” You couldn’t tell if this was a question or a statement.

“Seems like it,” you confirmed, adjusting King in your lap as he snoozed. “I mean, I hope so. We live together and everything.”

“Why?” Imogen asked, finally meeting your eyes. Hers were defiant, almost angry, a dark brown that deepened in the fading light.

“Why do we live together?”

“Why does she like you?”

You grinned. Casey would die when you relayed this conversation to her later. She’d lord it over you for years.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Must be my winning personality.”

“You’re funny,” Imogen decided, scooting a little closer to you.

“Thanks,” you replied, pleased with the progress you’d made. “What’s your sister’s name?” you asked, nodding toward the toddler on Casey’s lap.

“Laylie,” Imogen groaned. “She’s annoying.”

“Yeah, I get it,” you commiserated. “I have a little sister, too.”

“She always colors everything pink.”

“You don’t like pink?”

“No,” she said, emphatically.

“Well,” you said. “We’ve got three rooms for you guys, so if you want to sleep in your own room, you can.”

Imogen squirmed. “No, I want to stay with Laylie.”

“Okay,” you assured her. “That’s fine, too.”

“Sometimes she cries at night and I have to help her stop.”

You watched as Imogen bit her fingernails. You wondered where these kids had come from, what they’d been through, why they’d ended up here, at your and Casey’s house at 4:00 pm on a Tuesday. But you wouldn’t ask. They’d tell you when they were ready.

“You’re a good sister,” you said. “But, you know, if you want to keep sleeping or if Laylie’s being annoying, you can always wake up me or Casey and we’ll help Laylie. Plus, I think she already likes Casey.” You pointed at Casey, who now stood at the door with Laylie on her hip, saying goodbye to the caseworker.

After the door shut, everything stood still for a moment. Everything would change, you realized. Everything had changed. Casey sat down in an armchair across from you, letting Laylie down to explore, and you just looked at each other. You couldn’t say exactly what was in that look, but it was I love you and We can do this and Watching you do this makes me love you even more. You knew things wouldn’t always be easy, that tomorrow could be terrible, but you’d handle that like you handled everything: together.

“I’ve met Laylie,” Casey started. “But who else do we have here?”

“This is Imogen,” you said, gesturing to the girl next to you, who’d retreated into her sweatshirt again. “And King.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Imogen,” Casey said, sharing a glance with you to confirm that Imogen’s shyness wasn’t just for her.

You stood and stretched a bit, King limp in your arms. “Are you guys thirsty? Imogen, you want to come to the fridge and pick a drink? We’ve got juice boxes, lemonade, water, maybe even a soda or two.”

Imogen nodded. You walked over to Casey and, before she could protest, placed King firmly in her arms. “Here, hold him. What do you want? Water?”

Casey glared at you, equal parts stunned and scared. You smiled at her and shrugged. She was scared of babies, scared of how vulnerable they were, afraid to hurt them. You knew she’d have avoided holding King for as long as possible. You also knew this was ridiculous.

You rummaged through the fridge with Imogen, Laylie reaching up to you for a juice box. When you turned around to look over the kitchen island, Casey was running a finger across King’s dimpled chin. She planted a kiss on his head and smiled softly at him, and you knew it was all going to be okay.

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #casey novak one shot #casey novak drabble #casey novak fluff #law and order svu #svu #casey novak fanfic #neurodivergent #autistic #casey novak x autistic reader #x autistic reader #novak family chronicles

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1rsoldiersince2012 · 3 months

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Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3760 (chapter 48)

'screw valentine's day, i want what they have'

but anyway, you're welcome ☺ thoughts, comments are always appreciated <3

48. this might've been just a dream, right?

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He says again, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Robert? What are you doing here?" You manage to say, feeling as if your whole body has gone numb. The kitchen almost starts spinning, and you feel your blood begin to boil.

"I invited Rob, he's a part of the family." Your father says, leaving Matt alone, and comes to stand next to Robert in the kitchen. Rob. Fucking Rob. Now it was only you against them both. Exactly the way it always has been.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, y/n?" Robert asks, eyes targeting Matt, his voice as sweet as honey. You're not gonna get the authority in this house, and he knows it all too well.

"Yeah, that's Matthew Murdock. My boss." You smile wickedly, watching everyone's eyes widen. "Murdock as in Nelson and Murdock attorneys office."

Matt tries to read the room, waiting for somebody to snap, but Robert only shakes his hand, obviously swallowing some other words.

"Your boss? Y/n, what-" your mother begins, but a single glare from your dad is enough to shut her up. The atmosphere changes immediately, and Matt feels like an outsider, as if he himself was sitting as a spectator in a courtroom, a mere watcher with no real influence on the Jury's final decision.

"I'm sorry, mind if I have a few words with my daughter?" Your father says, walking out of the kitchen, sparing all the pleasantries. He doesn't need to turn back and wait for you because he knows you'll follow.

"Excuse me." You mutter, walking past Matt. He asks for someone to show a way to the bathroom, so he could listen to you and your father talk without completely blanking out in front of others. It was unfair, cheating, using his powers for not a great cause, but he just couldn't be left out in a new environment. Not when it was you and him against the world.

"What? What boss? Mind explaining something to your father?" Harold closes the doors of his bedroom, not shouting or smashing things. But this calmness was always scarier than anger.

"What's there to explain? I work elsewhere now." You sit on the bed, unfazed.

"How long?"

"Two months or so."

"Why?" Yeah, this was the spitting image of a police interrogation.

"I got tired of kissing asses, especially Benowitz's." You simply shrug, holding strong eye contact.

"You had the world under your feet there and left for what? What does he even pay you?" Apparently one look was enough to crack Matt's character and social status.

"Not nearly enough, but I don't really care about money." A steady heartbeat.

"If you think that leaving Benowitz was a great idea, you're very wrong, kid. He's gonna crush that office of yours like a boot crushes an ant." Harold's voice was still unbelievably calm. Matt sits on the closed toilet seat to listen better. "What went wrong? You liked working there."

"He wanted me to give a false statement to the Jury. I refused."

"That's it?"

"Yes." Your heart skips a beat; but you don't desire explaining every 'silly' thing that lead to your resignation. Not now.

He scoffs and a thunder-like laugh leaves his chest. "Honey, if you think that everyone who works as a lawyer is a saint, then you still don't know shit about the world."

"If you thought I was gonna let a guilty party walk freely among everyone else, then you're..." Insane. Stupid. "Wrong."

"But it's not that, is it?"

Matt stiffens, trying to locate your heartbeat again.

"It's... Love, right?" Harold asks again, noticing your pink cheeks. He could always read you like an open book. "Oh, what have I told you after the last time?" A heavy sigh escapes him.

You break the eye contact with him, looking at your feet. The mattress next to you dips, and your face is pulled into your dad's chest. "I know. But it's different. It won't be like the last time." You whisper, your shoulders rigid and unable to release the tension.

"I want to believe it. But I have a feeling that this time it will be worse."

"No, I promise."

"You don't have to promise me anything. Promise to yourself." He rubs your shoulder with the free hand, thinking over his next words. "Listen, I know that it never worked out with Robert... Although I really wish it did. But I'm not gonna press you this time."

"Who are you and what did you do to my father?" You pull away to look him in the eyes and he wipes the tears from your face.

"I want what's best for my only daughter."

Matt furrows his eyebrows. So many questions and no answers. He understood that the past is better left behind, but not knowing a lot about you was frustrating.

***

The dinner was nice. Apart from the occasional glares thrown at you and Matt from one of the three. You sat next to Matt, who was seated right across Robert, next to your father, facing you, and your mother by his side. Robert was acting like a real man should - he listened, asked questions, commented something on the game that was shown on TV; to a mere watcher, it would've looked like Robert and Matt got along just perfectly. But the tension was hanging thickly around them, as you suspected it would.

Your father was mostly silent, but when he talked, he only asked questions. Questions you didn't particularly enjoy. When you told him about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, now crowned as Daredevil, about how the whole gang of Nelson and Murdock put the city's biggest criminal behind the bars and accidentally let it slip that you've been poisoned, your father almost choked on the apple pie. Of course, the lecture about being more cautious was inevitable, even in front of a guest, but when Matt placed his warm hand on your knee for reassurance, you felt grateful to have him here with you.

"Do you agree with this devil, Matthew?" Your mother asks, pouring herself a glass of water. You notice her hands slightly shaking. Obviously, no mother wants to hear about their child getting hurt; not even when that child is a 30-year-old lawyer.

"As a lawyer - no." Matt's voice is firm, he doesn't stutter like he did when Karen asked his opinion about the vigilante for the first time, although it wasn't nice to lie about himself. "As a citizen, a blind one too, I think he's doing a lot more good than wrong. I mean, he has saved y/n, and our secretary, more than once."

"By disobeying and breaking multiple rules." Robert speaks from behind a cup, sending you 'is this guy serious' look.

"Well, you can't have something good without a bit of bad." Matt responds, and you bite away a grin, giving Robert a glare back.

"Sounds a lot like church teaching."

"Well, I am catholic." Matt answers to Robert.

"So as a catholic, you believe in his doings?" Your mother asks again. The question hangs in the air for a while, accompanied by the sound of intense commentating on TV.

"Please, let's not involve religion at this table." You groan slightly.

"No, I wanna hear his opinion." You look at Robert threateningly, but he avoids your eyes.

"Yeah, I mean... He's not killing people... From what I've heard. Just... Beats them up and gives them to police."

"So what you're saying..." your father clears his throat, "is that police are not capable of dealing with the criminals... and they need another criminal to help them?"

Ah, the police way of talking. You knew this was coming sooner or later. Maybe bringing Matt here was a mistake.

"I usually don't doubt honest work of police officers but-"

"Fisk had at least half of the precinct paid off. I saw FBI arresting them." You help Matt, suddenly feeling the need to defend him from your family's sharp words. You two against the whole world.

"All the good men then left, I see." Harold clears his throat again, this time more embarrassed than confident, "when I was Chief Officer, anyone who was bribed was kicked out of the force... by me. Personally. I guess a lot has changed, in almost ten years."

"Why did you leave the force?" Matt risks a lot with this question, and suddenly everyone at the table tense. You gulp loudly beside Matt, panic evident in your eyes when they meet your father's tired ones. Your mother focuses on the glass of water in her hand, not making eye contact with anyone. Robert notices your eyebrow slightly twitching when you look at Camilla, something about your face now was different; you looked paler, more tired, as if these were your last moments on Earth. He knew some of it, the story, the real reason, but after the time when he asked for more details and was met with your furious father, he didn't dare to look for more details anymore. What he knew, was half of the truth, and frankly, it was enough for him. It was the same for your mother, yet she learned to be humble and silent about it.

The question hangs heavily in the air, until your father replies, "Uh, just encountered some personal... Health problems."

He's lying. Too obvious for someone who previously worked in the force. Harold's heartbeat is all over the place, loudly pounding in Matt's ears. As is yours. Something about this was not right, suspicious.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Matt sends a small apologetic smile towards your dad, his hand finding your knee under the table again. You almost flinch, but then quickly cover it up with a cough. Your skin somehow feels both hot and cold at the same time, and Matt feels the sudden tensing of your body. "If you were still a captain, none of that mess with Fisk would've ever happened."

"Don't be so sure, Matthew." Harold's voice is low, with a note of regret, "from what I've heard now, he's worked hard in the shadows to lure powerful people and built his empire from scratch. A man like this is very dangerous and hard to capture."

"But not impossible." Matt strives to bring positivity back on the table, but this appears to be impossible.

"Matthew, take no offense, but you're too catholic for your own good." Harold answers, and you know that this is his final word in this talk.

The men return from the backyard, and you can only guess what they talked about the whole time they were gone. You pass Matt in the corridor, grazing his hand with your fingers as you go and make way towards the bathroom to wash your face. A minute later, someone slips inside, and you think that it's Matt, but when you lift your head to grab a towel, you see Robert standing in the middle of the bathroom, his arms crossed on his chest.

***

You help your mother get the guest room ready, exchanging only few words. She likes Matt, admits it herself, but doesn't dare to comment anything else. Mother's intuition was telling her that you didn't bring Matt here to simply make a blind man's lonely holiday better, perhaps you wanted to introduce him as your boyfriend, but didn't dare to do so when Robert was in the house. She also liked Robert, he was almost like a son to her, visiting them ocassionally since highschool, he wasn't a rare sight in this house, but... Maybe it was time to move on. For everyone. Camilla knew that if Robert continues coming here, you'll become a rare sight. In her heart, she wanted what's best for you, her dearest daughter, but she also knew about your tough character and how easily you can break apart when you're hurt.

"Occupied."

"Well, then you should've locked the door." His voice is nonchalant, you notice that he's already changed his clothes, ditched the long sleeved shirt for an old police academy t-shirt. He looks as if he was trying to flex his biceps in front of you, but the thought of that makes you grin. Matt definitely had a stronger body than this Sheriff wannabe.

"Not my fault that there's an idiot in the house."

"Classic y/n." He scoffs, leaning on the door with his whole back. "So, this guy, a new toy of yours?"

"Do I hear jealousy, Robert?"

He ignores your question, going on a ramble, "see, this is why some people think of you as a whore, going around, playing men and then leaving them when you get bored. Even at the dinner table you two can't keep your hands to youself, huh? Are you two fucking?"

"I fuck whomever I want. And it's no concern of yours." You say, leaning on the sink.

"Have you forgotten about us? How good it felt when we were together?" He says, his back still pressed against the bathroom door, keeping the maximum distance in the small space.

"Maybe it felt good for you, but you've never even bothered to ask if it felt good for me." You bite, watching his eyes widen in shock... Or shame.

"Oh please, if someone had heard us, they would've thought that I was the best man on the planet with the way you were screaming."

"Maybe I was screaming because I disliked it? How can you know when you've always turned away to sleep or left after you were done rutting your dick into me?" You wave your hands in front of you in a dirty gesture, noticing Robert's clenched jaw.

"He's gonna break your heart. Like you did mine. I just hope the pain is even worse for you than it was for me."

"I broke your heart? Please." You scoff, crossing your arms, "when I told you about my problem, you basically vanished."

"I needed some time to think, but I still wanted you. I still do." His voice is desperate and it makes you sick.

"Oh, save it for some other poor soul, you just wanted to get me pregnant but when the doctors said that it's impossible, you threw me away like a dirty rag. That's all you wanted - to have nice little children, and not because you loved me, but because you were so obsessed with my father that you wanted a connection between the two of you!" Your voice gets louder and Robert glances at the door nervously.

"I don't need any children to have a connection with your father. I already have it." He boasts, so sure of his place in this house that if he hated you, he would have the power to banish you from here. But he didn't. Deep in his heart, there we still strong feelings for you.

"Oh, right, I forgot that you are the son he wished to have, and not me, the daughter who's whoring around every man she sees, right?" Your voice is strong, displaying years of suppressed anger and not being loved enough in your own home. "Do you know how hard it was for me to be with you after all that I went through? How your touch made me flinch? And you have the audacity to come here to my parent's house and say that you want me back? Don't you understand the reason I left you the second time?" You desperately grab onto the sink with your palms and take deep breaths.

"You said you were better, how was I supposed to read your goddamn mind?" He shouts, and suddenly you feel like you've travelled back in time, before you were even a lawyer, and were arguing about the same things with Robert.

"I said I was better because I was, the therapy was helping, but I wasn't feeling well with you around. You're just... Too similar to him."

"If you think that I'm similar to that psychopath, you're not better than him yourself."

"You-" you grab a tube of body lotion from the sink and throw it at Robert, hitting him in the chest. "Get out of my sight before I throw something sharper than this fucking lotion!"

"You will fuck this up, whatever you two have going on, it's doomed." He leaves the bathroom, closing the door loudly.

***

An hour later you're gently knocking on Matt's door, hoping to disappear from the corridor before Robert or your father see you. Robert was staying in the room next to this, and he could exit any moment. Matt opens quickly, much to your luck, a confused look on his face. Without words, he lets you inside.

"Wow, that is really dark, I gotta," you walk towards the corner of the room and turn on a lamp. Warm yellow light fills the space, and you notice Matt's slumped shoulders. "What did they even do to you?" You say with a humourless laugh, sitting at the end of the bed.

"Don't worry, we just chatted. What's up with you?" Matt tries to sound innocent, but he didn't know what to do with the information he overheard. He wanted to hug you, and never let you out of his embrace, but you had to tell everything you told Robert to him yourself.

"You want some?" You say, taking a sip of wine straight from the bottle. He doesn't answer, but sits next to you on the bed. "It's wine."

"Where'd you get that?"

"Stole from my parents. I need it more than they do." You push the bottle into Matt's hands, and watch him drink. "I truly hoped that this could be our escape from the problems and the whole Hell's Kitchen, but... I'm sorry it got ruined. By an obvious somebody." Your voice wavers with anger.

"It's alright. I got to spend more time with you." Matt shrugs, his knee resting against yours.

"Aren't you just full of positivity?" You smile, honestly, for the first time this evening. "So, how bad are the first impressions?" You drink again, not letting Matt out of your sight.

"They're good. I think your mom likes me a lot." He smiles, and you fight the urge to put your palm on his cheek. "Robert's not very talkative with me, and your dad... I think he has accepted the fact that Robert's not your boyfriend anymore."

"Ah, you know, Matt, I love your ability to see positive aspects of every shitty situation." You laugh, finally loosening up when the wine kicks in.

"You didn't tell me it was your birthday." Matt says, taking a swing from the bottle. The wine is good, not too sweet and just the right amount of sour. "Which day was it?"

"November 13th." You answer, lying on your side with your hand under your head. "I stopped celebrating a long time ago."

Matt drinks some more and puts the bottle away, lying down as well, mirroring you. "Why?"

"Got tired of all the meaningless gifts, and money. I hate when people gift money and say 'go buy whatever you want'. It just completely loses the whole birthday meaning. A gift should be something that screams 'you're on my mind' or 'this made me think of you' and not 'this is shiny and girly, I hope this will pass as a good gift'." You scoff, "One time Robert gifted me a red lipstick because he liked the color."

"Jesus, really?" Matt can't hold the laugh, and you burst out laughing as well, hiding your face in his chest. When the laughter dies, Matt's hand begins gently stroking your hair, "I would gift you the whole world if I could."

"Lying is a sin, Matthew." You smile, kissing his exposed neck. "You should be very careful with these kinds of statements. Or I might twist them around."

He lets you kiss his neck, his jaw and his chest, but the uneasiness stirring inside of him doesn't allow Matt to fully focus on you the way he'd want to. "I overheard something... You and Robert were talking."

The words make you stop and you look at him intently, panic setting in, "what exactly?"

Words get stuck in his throat, and Matt's face becomes red, embarassed. He should've just kept his mouth shut, but of course, the devil had to pull his tongue. "Something about pregnancy. I was just passing by and-"

"Oh, that." You close your eyes, bracing yourself. "I was planning to tell you this some time later. I didn't know how far will we go... Because no woman goes around telling that to the first guy in her bed... But I think you already deserve to know." You pause, feeling your own heart beating loudly in your ears, Matt puts his hand on yours for emotional support. He has heard every single word you and Robert said to each other, but he needed to hear it all from you. "I... I can't have children. I can't get pregnant, and... If you had thoughts about family, now it's perfect time for you to run away."

"I won't leave you, y/n." He squeezes your hand, reassuringly, "I... I don't care. Family, no family, I just want to be with you."

"Just please, don't be disappointed later when that honeymoon phase passes." You sigh.

"I won't. I promise." Matt seals his promise with a kiss, one full of love and adoration.

I love you.

***

The night felt like a fever dream for you and Matt. He kissed you the way he has never kissed anyone; his touch was like fire on your skin, exploring your body like he has already done many times before, but this time it was even more intimate. This wasn't just sex anymore; it was a feeling almost divine, as if your spirits were connecting and merging into one. You gripped the sheets, raked Matt's strong back with your nails, surely leaving long red marks, and welcomed his body weight on yours when you both came from the highest of all the highs - it was divine. When Matt continued to tightly hold your interlocked hands next to your head, and panted hot air into your neck, you didn't expect him to say the next words.

This was beyond the description of 'divine' and all the other words that were used to describe a feeling out of this planet. This was something else, something unreal, a thing one so madly in love longs to hear, dreams, expects and waits for... Yet is never ready when these words are said aloud.

If you didn't have to be quiet, you'd surely would have been laughing into his strong, hairy chest, pressing his body into yours a million times until you wouldn't have been able to move a single muscle. But you couldn't. So you showered Matt with kisses, feeling your lips uncomfortably tingling, and swollen, and told him the same three words back.

It was a fever dream, and you both were sick with the worst disease ever - love.

#matt murdock #marvel daredevil #matt murdock x reader #foggy nelson #bound by law #netflix daredevil #lawyers #matts superhearing complicates things for you #daredevil #marvel #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you #matthew murdock #human disaster matt murdock #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x reader

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 27 days

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The Temptation Chapter 2

Summary: Father Barnes is devout, steadfast, and undeterred by flirtatious congregants. So why does this fallen angel tempt him so? You cannot serve two masters. Will he choose God, or his heart? Priest!Bucky x curvy!reader Warnings: eventual smut; religion (yes it's a warning); mentions of past sexual assault

Bucky couldn’t seem to shake her. Even though she never came to the church anymore, he saw her out in public way too often. They always seemed to be bumping into one another. They would say their pleasantries and then be on their way, until one day she invited him for coffee. He didn’t see anything wrong with going for a coffee. He’d done it with other congregants before. She invited him out to coffee more often where they would sit or go for walks and talk for hours about anything and everything. Religion as well, which he thought was odd. She was extremely well educated in scripture and passionate about intellectual and philosophical questions when it came to the idea of God’s existence or religion vs. spirituality. He felt like he was learning a lot from her and agreed with many of her points. Their coffee dates became a regular thing until she finally heard from the lawyer again.

“The estate is out of probate,” Y/N said offhandedly one day. Bucky’s head whipped around to her.

“Oh, that’s good. Took them long enough,” he tried to sound unphased.

“Yeah. I was thinking of holding the meeting at the church, since some of the money will be going to you guys,” she continued, looking out over the water where they sat at the Brooklyn Bridge park.

“That makes sense,” Bucky agreed. He sat silently for another minute before drumming up the courage to ask, “What will you do when it’s all done?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N said. “I have nowhere to be.”

“Hm…well, if you do decide to leave, I hope you know I’ll miss you,” Bucky knew he was playing with fire as he said it. He’d grown even more fond of and infatuated with Y/N as the months had progressed. He not only was attracted to her but genuinely enjoyed her company. He’d gone to sleep one too many times since starting to meet up with her a little too…excited, having vivid dreams of what life would be like with her.

Y/N gazed at him, an unreadable expression on her face. Bucky met her stare, once again knowing he shouldn’t, but wanting this moment. Y/N broke eye contact as she blinked rapidly then looked down at his hand in his lap. She reached for it and held it as she looked back out at the water. “Me too, Buck.”

***

“Father Barnes! I know you’ve met our helper today,” Sister Carter said as she led someone up to him. He looked around and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Y/N?” he asked.

“Yep, I uh, I don’t know what happened. One minute I was just talking to her at the grocery store and the next I was agreeing to help with an activity,” Y/N looked surprised and a little upset with herself.

“Well, Sister Carter can be quite convincing,” Bucky laughed. Sister Carter gave him a slight shove to his arm.

“It’s almost Christmas, we need all the help we can get for Mass,” Sister Carter scoffed at him. “And some rumors have surfaced about Miss Y/L/N having quite a lovely singing voice that she used to use back in the day, and our little choir needs desperate help!” Bucky’s eyes widened as he looked at Y/N worriedly. Y/N met his gaze and just gave him a shrug. “This way!” Sister Carter redirected Y/N sharply and pushed her towards the adults standing at the front of the sanctuary. Sister Carter ran over to the piano in the corner and sat while Y/N stood in front of the choir.

“Uh…hi,” Y/N waved awkwardly. “I guess let’s, um, go over what you’ve all been practicing?”

Within 20 minutes Y/N had the choir sounding better than they had for years. She was able to help them fix their vowels and fine tune the way they sang. Sister Carter was beside herself with excitement at having a choir that sounded somewhat good rather than a jumbled mess of noise.

“Miss Y/L/N, you’re a god send!” Sister Carter ran up to her as rehearsal drew to a close. “Could I ask you to help with one more thing?”

“Uh, sure,” Y/N sighed.

“Miss Natasha Romanov here,” Sister Carter waved over one of the altos, who quickly came over, “has a solo in the song ‘Silent Night.’ Could you help her with it a bit?”

Y/N shook Natasha’s hand as they all walked over to the piano. Bucky had been watching from the sidelines the entire time, admiring Y/N’s way of teaching people and her patience with them. He got to hear her sing little snippets of the songs. She had a nice voice, and he enjoyed getting to see this small part of her that she had buried long ago. He also felt a protective streak over Y/N, feeling the need to watch over the rehearsal to make sure she wasn’t pushed too far into doing things she wasn’t comfortable with.

As they practiced and Natasha was singing Y/N would interrupt and suggest trying something different, and when Natasha tried again it sounded better, making Natasha feel confident and smiling widely at her. Bucky felt himself smiling like an idiot as he watched. At one point Natasha was struggling with a higher note.

“Okay, yeah as an alto that’s a little out of range for you, so maybe if you try this,” Y/N showed Natasha how to breath to get the right support then showed her how to position herself and how to imagine the sound coming out of her mouth and through her body. “So…’Sleep in heavenly peace…sleep in heavenly peace’…”

Bucky was transfixed. Y/N’s voice at full volume, sweeping through the melody like it was second nature to her, with a perfect vibrato to it, was a sound he would gladly die to. Natasha repeated what Y/N had done and was able to recreate the sound almost perfectly. All 3 of the ladies celebrated with each other and ended practice. Bucky stood and started cleaning up after everyone that had come for Christmas Mass prep as Natasha left and Sister Carter and Y/N spoke to each other.

“Thank you for your help, Miss Y/L/N,” Sister Carter gushed over her. She glanced at Bucky who was farther away. “Looks like we had a fan watching us.”

“What a weirdo,” Y/N mock whispered.

“He’s quite the looker,” Sister Carter said, watching Y/N’s face carefully.

Y/N gave her a perplexed look. “Um, yeah, he’s pretty…yeah, pretty.”

“Too bad he’s a man of the cloth, am I right?”

“I’m sorry, Sister, what are you trying to say?” Y/N faced her, her eyebrows furrowing as she gave her a disapproving look.

“Nothing! Oh I mean no offense, dear. It’s just hard to see a young, good-looking priest be distracted by a…well…”

“A what?” Y/N dared her, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Sister Carter’s friendly exterior seemed to melt away as she gave Y/N a disapproving look back. “I see the way you look at each other, dear. It won’t happen. He’s a priest. He will always choose God over you. You’re his temptation, his Jezebel, nothing more.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up at her accusation, a loud scoff leaving her open mouth. “I beg your pardon?”

“I must get going, dear. Thank you again for your help tonight,” Sister Carter quickly gathered her song books and gave Y/N one last tight smile before leaving the sanctuary.

Y/N watched her leave, astonishment still on her face at her audacity. She huffed a sharp breath and quickly gathered her things. As she turned to leave she almost smacked right into Bucky.

“Oh god, I mean gosh, I mean…ugh,” Y/N grunted as she stepped back. “I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

“Whoa, what’s the rush, Y/N?” Bucky asked, an amused smile on his face. It disappeared as he looked at Y/N’s expression. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Y/N retorted, rubbing her face with her hand. “It’s just late, I’m tired.”

“Oh, well, you sounded amazing up there,” Bucky complimented her. Y/N watched him as he smiled at her. “You’re a great teacher.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N suddenly asked, her eyes narrowing at Bucky.

“Like what?” Bucky recoiled.

“Like…” Y/N stopped. She had had some serious feelings for Bucky ever since he had comforted her that first day after the office meeting. The coffee dates and long walks together as they talked cemented the fact that she not just liked him and found him attractive, but wanted him on a primal level. She felt like she had been doing a good job at keeping up the act of just being friends, besides the odd holding hands or hugging that was very brief. But if someone else could see something happening between them, it wasn’t as subtle as she had hoped. She shook her head at herself and shut her eyes tight. “I’m the temptation…” she muttered.

“What?” Bucky asked, leaning in to hear her.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Excuse me,” Y/N scurried around him.

Bucky stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Wait, did Sister Carter say something to you?” he asked. Y/N tried to shake his hold on her but he wouldn’t budge.

“Let me go, Buck,” she tried to keep walking.

“No, wait,” Bucky suddenly cupped her face in his hands. Y/N froze, her eyes widening and her hands instantly grabbing his wrists close to her face. They sat there in silence, staring at each other, their breathing getting heavier, the space between them closer than it had ever been before. Bucky’s eyes bore into Y/N’s, flickering back and forth and then glancing down to her lips. Y/N gasped and pushed his hands away. Bucky stepped back, his hands still in front of himself like he didn’t recognize them as his own. “I’m…I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Y/N felt like she could cry. She wanted to reassure him, to hold him to her chest and stroke his hair and tell him it was alright, anything to wipe that awful horrified look off of his face. And yet the words kept tumbling around in her head. “Temptation…Jezebel…you’re the Jezebel…” She inhaled a shaky breath then turned and literally ran out of the sanctuary.

Bucky felt like he couldn’t move as he watched her run. What did he just do? Why did he do that? He held her, didn’t want her to leave, even felt like he was about to kiss her. What was happening?

**picture if from Pinterest, it's A.I. so there's no "artist" or "creator"**

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #smut #priest!bucky barnes x reader #priest!bucky barnes #chapter 2 #curvy reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader

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