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1-800-local-slut · 3 months

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My Crazy Wife and Kids

Rio x Black! Fem! Reader

Warnings: bad parenting (not outrageous, they just don't know what their really doing), reader had a hard childhood, light child endangerment, arguing between reader and basically everyone, angst with a fluffy ending, the reader is Caribbean because I really understand the struggle of trying to understand Caribbean parents, mentions and allusions of smut, mentions of cancer, reader works as a pimp under Rio

Guess what's harder, raising three girls vs running a drug empire? Rio and his wife are the proud parents to three girls and struggle to raise them and change the way they were both raised

Please let me know if you enjoy, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Also I'm taking request for Rio and every character I write for, I wanna write more stuff for my baby daddy! <3

This is a long one lol

Important info: The oldest daughter is nine, the twins are seven

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The car was silent. The twins sat beside their oldest sister, Valentina. Amancia and Alvita squirmed in their seats while Valentina stole glances at the front of the car. Her father, Rio, kept his hands gripped on the steering wheel and his eyes glued forward as he drove them home from church.

Their mother had their iPads sitting in her purse. She'd taken them as punishment the moment they got back in the car. It felt like riding to your doom, sitting in the car with two angry parents like hers.

The sun beaming outside did nothing to ease her nerves, and the thought of winding down the window and risking sending her mother into a lecture was not one she was willing to act on.

Don't get it twisted; the girls were by no means treated awfully by their parents. But when you have an old-world Caribbean mother who still 100% believed in spankings, there's no telling what you're in for after a day of acting up.

The more familiar the streets got, the more anxious she got. Sure, she was supposed to just go to the bathroom and take the twins with her. But how could she resist taking a little walk outside? And how could she resist going to the corner store?

When they got back with bunches of (stolen) candy and got caught by a deaconess, Amancia decided that was the best time to bust out that swear word she heard their mom call some lady on the phone.

Amancia called her a cunt, and Valentina could feel her ass start to throb from the spanking they were about to get. Alvita bit the deaconess the moment she tried to grab the three of them.

It was over then.

They were sitting in the driveway now, and Valentina realized that Alvita had snot running down her nose and her hair that their mom perfectly styled that morning, and Amancia was staring off into space as if she accepted her fate.

Her mother cleared her throat as daddy turned off the car. He let out a weary sigh and ran a ringed hand over his face. Her mom cleared her throat and turned back to look at them.

"Go take a shower. Valentina, you first."

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"Why on God's green Earth did she call that woman a cunt? I don't know," his wife sighed as she wrapped the scarf around her hair.

"Because she heard you call that lady a cunt on the phone last month. I knew something was up; I saw her little ass twitching to use the word," Rio chuckled, opening the sheets for her to come into his arms.

"You think this is funny? I had to be the bad guy again," she asked as she crawled into his arms. The silk of their red sheets covered her, and the TV played Empire in the background. Rio reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. The large room was dark now and was only illuminated by the glow of Cookie Lyon beating her son with a broom.

"It's funny because that woman is a cunt. You know it, I know it, and Vita just said what we were thinking," he yelped, the pinch getting him hard.

"Yes, Sister Jefferson is a cunt. Our kids will respect authoritative figures." She was getting upset now. She shifted away from him slightly, and Rio didn't miss it. Rio wasn't sure what to say next, so he figured it was best to just agree.

"You're right."

"So why don't you act like it?" Silence.

"What do you want from me?" He asked after a moment.

"I want you to stop leaving me to punish our kids all alone. I know I pushed them from my pussy myself, but I didn't put them there alone. You just stood there like a fucking idiot while I dealt with them, and I'm sick of being the bad guy." During their confrontation with their three daughters and forcing them to call Sister Jefferson to apologize, Rio more or less stood there. In the past, she did ask him to not just be the fun parent, but sometimes it still slipped his mind.

"So you're mad I didn't yell at them? You're mad at me because I didn't chase them down with a stick or make them write out sentences 100 times? Don't piss me off." It wasn't that serious, was it? An annoyed huff was his answer.

"Yeah. The girls adore you, and I'm just the bitch who takes their shit and sends them to bed. Then you have the fucking audacity to say it was my fault she called that woman a cunt. What about you? You remember teaching our kids Spanish, yeah? So when you're going on and on swearing in a way that would kill your mother, you think they don't understand you. Come off it, you prick." She rolled even further from him now. He had a feeling she was pissed off earlier at dinner after she called the girls down and even after she tucked them all in.

"You wanna call me a prick louder, ma? Maybe Amancia will hear you and use that one next Sunday." It was a mistake, and he wanted to suck the words back into his throat. It was an intrusive thought that he didn't have time to stop from slipping out.

He could hear the craziness turning in her brain. He didn't just marry her for no reason; he married her because she could hold him down. And to hold Rio down, you have to be a bit crazy in your own right.

He was on the ground with a thud, and the TV was off.

"Did you just fucking push me?!"

She was silent now, the way he had been during the confrontation earlier.

"Hello? I know you hear me? Did you really just throw me onto the floor?" A pillow slammed into his chest, and he knew it meant he was not welcome back in this bed.

"So now we're just throwing each other off things, right?" More silence, as she pulled a pair of headphones onto her head, and he could hear the sound of the ocean bleeding through. Pulling an eye mask over her face, he just huffed and headed to the door.

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The sun shone through the kitchen as she chopped up sausages to make breakfast. It was 5:30 now, and the girls would be up soon. Where her fucking idiot of a husband was, she didn't really care. How dare he! Leave her alone with the kids?

It had been a while (nine years) since her first pregnancy. He wasn't as useless back then. And she knows she was not alone in that bed making that baby. She didn't want to do things the way she did.

Yes, she struggled at times to show affection, but that wasn't her fault. She didn't have a mom to show her how to hug or any older sisters to teach her how to be a girl. She had to learn about femininity from watching the older girls around her shitty neighborhood. Hell, until she met Rio she wasn't even sure about having kids.

When they asked where grandma was, the last thing she wanted was to explain was that her mom killed four people in a gang fight and that she herself was born in jail before she was released to her grandma who was hardly around. That she spent one day every weekend driving to a prison to see her mom. That even as a grown adult, she still gets collect calls from her mother and her husband sends money for her books and does whatever her can for her in jail.

It wasn't entirely her choice to keep the girls from their grandma. Grandma expressed no desire for them to know that she sold her whole life to kill four people.

Growing up the way she did, why did everyone just expect her to be a model mother over night? Good at all the emotional shit that came with kids? She wasn't and it was fucked that her dickhead of a husband may as well be a totem pole the way he just stands there sometimes. Behind her the fridge opened. Speak of the devil she supposed. Still she ignored him.

Since she was a fuck up, since everything he said was bad for the girls then it was better she didn't speak to his dumbass at all.

"Good morning baby." After 13 years of marriage his voice still made her wet. Still she relented.

"How did you sleep? It wasn't the best for me, my back hurt and I had to sleep on the couch. You wanna rub it out for me baby?" He was testing her, testing the waters to see if she was still steamed. He was very close to getting slapped with a pan.

Nothing from her as she poured three cups of lemonade for the girls who she heard moving around upstairs. Returning to the stove, she started scraping the food into three plates. She felt his hands creep up her sides.

"Look. Look baby, I'm sorry. I know you're not the best with being affectionate with the girls and I know you struggle to figure out how to go about things with them. But I want you to know we're a team. I'm gonna start acting like it baby." His apology was smooth and deep in her ear. Still she could hear the honesty in his voice and tears bubbled up in her eyes.

The girls had a lot to do today. From Valentina's dance classes after school, the Amancia has a piano class and Alvita has science classes at her advanced tutoring company after school. And knowing she wouldn't have to be pissed off at her husband all day was a lot better.

"It's hard. I want to be closer to them so bad but I can't. I don't know how to be a good mom, or how to comfort them or teach them anything that isn't violence. All the books and youtube videos in the world can't teach you how to be a parent. I want to think I'm doing good so bad. I would fucking die for my girls. I would kill for them and end up in jail right next to my momma for them and I just can't seem to prove that to them. And it would be a lot easier to have someone for them to be angry at instead of me when they do something wrong." She sniffled, whipping tears from her eyes and turning into his chest.

He smelt so good. Like leather and the Dark Temptation body wash she picked up for him last time she went to Target and she made a mental note to buy it again. His strong arms wrapped around hers and he pressed a kiss to her scarfed head. One hand rubbed her back while she cried.

"Mama, the girls love you. You are a great mother. Just by being here you do more than so many people who up and run. They look up to you like you're the Sun. You're the only mom they have and I can see that they wanna be just like you. I'm sorry that I was being the fun parent. You know my entire life, I said I would be there for my kids for the good and the bad. And I've just been sitting back for the bad like my grandpa did. He left my grandma to struggle with me and Nick.

For a long ass time I thought my grandma was just hard on me for no reason. Now I know it's the stress of having to be with someone who's only there half the time and I'm sorry I put you through that."

When he mentioned his grandma his voice cracked. She pressed a soft kiss to his shirtless chest and she nodded against him, wrapping her arms around his smooth frame. She ran her fingers over a small scar on his back that he got when he was putting the cribs up for the twins.

"I'm sorry I pushed you off the bed." One of the girls was using the toilet, while the shower turned on again and it sounded like one of them (probably Amancia) was still in bed and she knew she'd have to get her up soon. A deep chuckle resonated through him and sent tingles through her entire body.

"It's alright, I'm sorry I was being a prick."

He stole a piece of sausage from the scrambled eggs and popped it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed before giggling.

"Shhhh, Amancia might hear you." She teased, and he smirked down at her in response.

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"Aw don't be pouty baby. You'll look so good in that tutu." Rio snickered, sipping from his wine glass and placing it back on their marble counter top. It was a mother daughter dance recital and she was less than thrilled to get this invitation. No actually. She was thrilled. She was thrilled to do something with her daughter, not with a fuck ton of people watching but she would never be ashamed to show off with her princess in front of the whole world.

Valentina was fidgeting around, doing little dance moves and dancing around with her little sisters. How could she say no to that? The woman would be prancing around on stage, matching pink tutu. She was married to a drug lord and helped run his empire with an iron fist. She wasn't used to being in the spot light and as ironic as it was.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want too."

The girls stopped playing. Valentina was standing in front of her mother who was sitting on a chair in front of their kitchen island. She looked like she felt bad for even asking and it put a knife in her heart. She realized then that she didn't hide her emotions as well as she hoped.

"No, no I want too! I was just thinking about how awful those other moms and daughters are gonna look dancing next to us. We're gonna eat them up, trust." Scooping up Valentina with a hug, she nibbled on her cheeks and kissed her silly. Her little princess squealed in delight and she twirled her around.

She needed a drink and a smoke. Rio chuckled as she pulled a cigarette out her pack and lit it. She stole a sip from his wine while she looked at the paper.

"Fuck, I can't make this rehearsal next week." She exhaled the smoke and Rio pushed the sliding door that led to the patio open next to her.

He slid into the seat next to her and heard the girls start up a round of Mario Kart. She rested a head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pushing an ashtray towards her.

"That's the first one. What do you have?"

"I have a mammogram, and I pushed this one back twice already." Rio always got nervous when she had to go to the doctor for any reason. Especially when it was a titty doctor as he liked to call them.

"Yeah thats important. I'm sure Val will understand."

"I feel awful. You know my grandma had breast cancer, and I'm sure I'm okay but I need to be sure. I want to be here for the girls as long as I can without my tits trying to kill me." Rio rubbed her shoulders. He stood up, now standing behind her and rubbing her shoulder blades.

"Don't worry about it ma. I'll go for you." He joked, nuzzling his face into her neck. Her phone rang on the counter and she saw it was one of her girls. Was it ironic that she handled sex work for her husband when she'd just die if one of their daughters was a hooker? Yes. It was also ironic that she was concerned about her tits killing her when she was in the middle of a cigarette.

"Mhm, sexy." She chuckled, running her hand over his crotch before turning around to face forward and. Her bit his bottom lip, brown eyes basically fucking her.

"Hello?" His hands slipped down her sides and up to her chest. Her breath hitched and her legs twitched.

"Go do something with the girls and stop groping me Christopher."

"Ouch." He laughed before kissing her neck once more and slipping out of the room.

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"Why?" Rio glanced at his wife and back at Valentina.

"I don't want to go today." Valentina muttered while picking at the mac and cheese. Pulling her jacket on, she was preparing for the chill of approaching winter.

"What are we paying 400 dollars a month for then? I can't force you to enjoy it but you will go. Did something happen, is someone bothering you at those classes?" Rio questioned. His wife gave him a small glance as if to say 'thank you for stepping in'.

"Nothing happened at ballet. It was school." Valentina lightly kicked the bag with an engraved 'V' on it that they had custom made for her.

"People have bad days baby." Deep down he was worried. Oh God what if she got touched and didn't want to tell them and was running from ballet? What if she's being threatened with violence? What if she's been expelled and didn't want to say? That's just like Valentina not to tell them that. She mumbled something.

"Is someone bothering you? Is it a teacher? A student?" Rio asked putting down the rag he was using to wipe down the counter. Valentina looked down at the table. Now Rio was going to have to fight someones dad. Great, just what he needed.

"You can tell me whose bothering you or I can go down to that school and figure it out." Her mother, was now sitting next to Valentina and looking into her similarly brown eyes. They always looked so similar. Sometimes, when Rio looked at Valentina he felt like he was looking at baby pictures of his wife.

Then Rio noticed it. The small bruise on her arm. It was so small and the color of the bruise wasn't so bad that it was noticeable. Their kid got her ass kicked. He knew Valentina was always the more timid one of his kids, not like the fiery Alvita and calculating Amancia who never hesitated to strike (speaking off, he hoped they weren't fighting someone at after school right now) but he always thought she would never be in a fight. He didn't realize her timid nature would inspire someone's anger.

"V, did you get in a fight?" Tears filled her eyes and before he knew it his wife grabbed her car keys.

"It was Terra! It was Terra and I don't want to see her at ballet!" Terra. Of course it was that little cunt and her whore mom probably encouraged this. His wife has had beef with with Mrs. Lipston since last month at the last pool party they all got invited too by Mr. and Mrs. Kerian. Martha Lipston made her dislike of his wife's new swimsuit very well known to all the other moms.

She also made her approval of Rio's ability to open beers with his teeth very well known. Rio personally thinks Martha Lipston looks like a horror game monster with all her plastic surgery. She was just hating because his wife was fine as hell.

"Put your coat on and lets go." Her mom demanded. Rio glanced over, he knew where this was going. Because his mind was going there too, was actually thinking about planting drugs on Mr. Lipston and calling DCFS on them for child endangerment.

It was a whole family of assholes trust him, dude borrowed his fucking lawnmower and kept it for seven months. Who needs a lawnmower for seven months? He knew his shitty lawn wasn’t growing that fast. Rio refused to buy a new one and just let him keep it like his wife suggested.

Rio was really bugging out over his lawnmower too. He spent nights up, wondering what the hell he was doing with his lawnmower for so long. She’d wake up next to him, asking him if he was still worried about the damn thing? That lawnmower had emotional significance to him and he didn’t like it being gone for so long.

He insisted it was the principal and one morning Rio couldn’t see through the lawn and tripped on a rock. That was it for him, he had to beat down their front door as nicely as he could. Would you believe his lawnmower was broken? How do you break someone’s lawnmower? Why not just tell him that you broke his lawnmower? Rio had half a mind to take him to court over his lawnmower and almost did. That was the last time Rio tried to be neighborly to any of these people, it pushed him to give up on humanity itself.

"I don't want to go." Valentina sniffled and pushed her mac and cheese away.

"Some little white bitch isn't gonna beat the crap out of you, and you're not gonna do anything about it. No, you're going to smack the shit out of her and if her mom tries anything I'm slapping the implants out her chest." He could see the nerves from her. Deep down, his wife was doing this out of a place of fear.

Fear that her kids was gonna get hurt and next time hurt real bad. He remembers how they met too. It was high school, when she got into a fist fight with some girls who had been going back and forth with her and her friends for months.

When she got caught alone, she got knocked upside her head with a padlock and ended up with a mild concussion. He was in the nurses office because he was skipping class in there with a fake headache. When he heard about how she got hit but still held her own, he knew he needed some of that.

Even better was how a week later she hunted down each attacker and beat the snot out of them one by one. To her, the only way to be safe, was the be more dangerous then whatever was about to attack you.

"I'll get thrown out of ballet school mom, please just drop it." "

You'll go." She growled sternly and pulled her earrings from her ears She was ready for a fight but Rio could clearly see that his daughter was not. She must've been hit something fierce.

"I don't want to get kicked out!" Her tiny voice cracked and her mother stopped for a moment of hesitation.

"Enough. Just enough both of you. Valentina, your mother is doing this because she loves you. She wants that little girl to know she doesn't just walk all over you and get away with it. I'm not sorry to say in this house you don't get your ass beat that way and deliver no punishment.

You don't have to get her in class, but you will have to face her again. In school, ballet class or in the parking lot of your school. How you do it is up to you. Fight her, we can go to the school or whatever but don't take something like this laying down." Valentina looked down with a huff. He ran a hand over her small one and she glanced softly at it. Then he focused on his wife. She glanced down and was chewing on one of her nails.

"You know what I'm about to say. Our kid isn't a fighter like us and that's fine. We didn't fight because we wanted too, we fought because we had too every day. We had our share of people trying to whop our asses. You already know that we gave our girls a life where they don't have to fight every day. That's okay. That's what we wanted. You don't gotta force our girls into a life they don't want the way that happened to you. Okay?" She nodded, and looked guilty. Like she felt guilty about her fear of something happening to her little girl.

Rio glanced at the clock, and at this point they were late to ballet. The clock ticked away. Nails scratched away at the counter and Rio waited for one of them to say something. Valentina broke the silence.

"I want to get back at her. But I can't stop thinking about the consequences. What if she tells on me? Or I get kicked out of ballet?"

"So what if she does? If someone hits you, you hit them back. I promise we will not be mad at you no matter what you do baby." Valentina silently nodded.

"I'll get her tomorrow morning in math." Valentina's mother ran her hands through her daughters braids and pulled her into a hug. Rio couldn't fight the smile that spread across his lips. He would count this as a win in the dad book.

"Okay. Do whatever you have to do for you. And keep your head up no matter what."

An understanding from the mother who always felt she knew best for her kids. Some fight put into their daughter. An ass whopping tomorrow morning. Maybe they weren't the best parents yet, but at least they were getting somewhere.

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buckybarnesisdaddy · 5 months

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All is Well Part 3

To Be Frank

Summary- Frank really can’t stand Ransom and his stupid shiny hair.

Pairings- Frank Adler x Dutchess!Reader, Bucky(Winter Soldier) x Dutchess!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x Dutchess!Reader, Steve x Bucky (James) x Daisy!Reader, Jake Jenson x Precious!Reader.

Rating- Explicit, 18+

Warnings- polyamorous relationships, sex mentioned (PiV), Hand job, Oral (f receiving), 18+ only!!

Word count- 3.4 k

Authors notes- This was co-written with the lovely @theinheriteddutchess so go give her some love!! 💕 She knows Frank best so I had to follow her lead on this one! 🥰

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

A kiss to you, his wife, his Dutchess, a glance at the man next to you in bed; get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, and check on the rest of the guys. Everyday started like this, it was perfect. Frank Adler is a simple man, he loves his wife, loves his boat, loves his niece, loves his job, and he has even grown to love some of the people in this house. Key word ‘some’ of them, and even that took time.

“Bucky? Breakfast ready?” He is answered by a grunt and a plate full of eggs and bacon shoved his way. He quickly eats his food and drinks is coffee in the silence of the morning. It’s blissful. He heads downstairs and checks on the guys down there. Jefferson gives him a wave through his open door, Cap grunts and pulls on his chains, Frank just shakes his head as he walks around the corner. He is greeted by a naked Ransom walking into his bedroom.

“Morning Frank!” Ransom says as he waves over his shoulder before he closes the door. Frank rolls his eyes, he keeps walking and grabs the bag of Mary’s things. He brings them upstairs and tucks them away in her bedroom. Shes off visiting her grandma for the summer but she will be coming back soon and her room should be ready. He grabs another cup of coffee before he heads out the door.

Frank goes to work as a part-time professor at the University. A job he got on his own merit and not by the strings pulled by his wealthy family. It’s only part time because he enjoys working on his boat too much to just give that up. Also, he needs to get out of the house sometimes because living in a home with two other women and about ten men wasn't easy. It is noisy, and there is always a mess wherever he goes. Frank suspects Ransom is the culprit because he doesn’t know how to clean up after himself, he prefers others to do it for him. Frank does not like Ransom, no one does. Except for Daisy and Precious and apparently you. And Jake, but Jake likes everyone. It is infuriating that you like hanging around Ransom… Frank doesn’t get it; the man is insufferable, yet Frank can hear you laugh in the other room when the Ransom makes another wisecrack on someone else's behalf. He dreads the day Ransom has a chance in your pants. It was bad enough that Winter moved in on you. That was a hard adjustment and Frank finally gave in but he draws the line at Ransom.

Frank likes Winter; the man is quiet and polite, careful. Too careful if you asked him, but with everything he'd been through, it was understandable. But over the past year Frank went from having just one person in his bed to having two. Winter is a blanket hog, woman hog, and a living furnace! He likes Winter, he does, but in the beginning Frank found himself a little frustrated. It was frustrating because it had taken you months of being with Frank before you allowed Frank to hug you. To get comfortable enough to relax and let your guard down around him. Frank had to work overtime with you, earning your trust to allow him in, allow him to change your life. But Winter walked in and within a week, the two of you had your arms wrapped around each other. That was the sight Frank was met with whenever he walked into any room. "He needs it", you would explain. And that was it. For all your bossiness and hard edge, when you saw someone in pain, you couldn't help reaching out.

Thankfully Ransom still has his own room in the basement with the others, because if you ever moved him into the bedroom, He thinks he might actually leave! Fucking Ransom, with his fucking sweaters and his fucking perfect hair. At least Winter has the decency to have bedhead when he wakes up. But not Ransom…and if he did, it still looks like it was styled by a professional. Winter doesn’t like him either, which helps them bond over the weeks that Ransom weaseled himself into their lives. Before that, they had eyed each other a little wearily at times. You were Frank’s, his Dutchess, and Winter was the wounded warrior who desperately wanted to be loved. Frank should have seen it coming.

Frank is a married man, and Winter isn’t a homewrecker. Feelings grew and Frank had seen it slowly developing. You, Frank’s wife, his Dutchess, had seen Winter hurting, desperately needing comfort and love; you couldn’t help allowing him into your heart.You wanted nothing more than to show Winter that he had a home and was safe with you, with Frank even. When Winter arrived at the house he would only talk to Steve. Steve was a friend, even if he couldn’t remember everything, he knew he could trust Steve, and you. For some reason you felt… safe. With only two friends, Winter was bound to fall for you, Frank couldn’t fault him for that, you are wonderful, you are everything. After a few months went by Winter noticed how ‘at ease’ he felt with you, Frank noticed as well. The little things made him worry, the cuddles, the soft touches, they were intimate touches, ones that Frank would share with you and now you are sharing them with another man. Frank didn’t truly worry until you started to look at Winter the way you looked at him. Frank knew then. He had to bring it up.

“You like Bucky- Winter- whatever we are calling him.” It hung in the air for a moment. You smile for a moment at Frank being tongue tied but then you realize what he is saying and the smile fades.

“Yes.” You sigh. There was no denying it. You wouldn't lie to Frank. You wouldn’t lie to your husband.

It wasn't instantly okay though.

Frank didn't want to lose you, and you wouldn't do anything to hurt him. You had to stop, Frank was your husband, you made a choice, you love Frank not Winter. But Winter was slowly opening up, trusting you and a few others in the house. He was starting to feel safe and at home. So when you stopped he couldn’t understand why there was distance, no cuddling, no touching?! And why you seemed to hesitate when just talking to him. It broke him, the first time he felt seen and loved in decades and now he messed it up, it had to be his fault, you are too good. Winter withdrew and kept to his room. Even Steve couldn't get him to come out and talk to him. Steve had to get to the bottom of it, asking you what was going on, if Winter had done anything or if you were upset with him.

“What?! No! Winter is perfect.” You exclaim. “I- Frank and I realized that feelings were starting to develop… and I love Frank.”

Steve nods and sighs. Steve wanted to help Winter but how could he tell you to forget about your husband to help his friend?! The mood changed after that and it made everyone on edge. Winter was different from the others, in all his strength, he was still a vulnerable man. Frank couldn’t help but feel guilty. Which was ridiculous, He had the right as the husband to not share his wife. Even if Jake and Steve don’t care, he does. Although Bucky turned out fine, too, right? He'd made tremendous progress. But Winter wasn't Bucky, the same face, same experiences, but a completely different man. Winter was still starting his road to recovery. And you…are a natural caretaker, Frank could see how hard it was not to help. To stand back and not do everything possible to make the man feel better, that wasn’t who you were. So, Frank made a decision.

“You have feelings for him and he needs you.” Frank sighs as he crosses his arms and leans against the counter. It’s late, everyone else is already asleep for the night. Frank worked on the boat a little too late, he was so caught up in trying to get his words just right that by the time he looked at his watch he knew he’d have to wait for the house to be quiet at night before he could have his word with you. “I still need you though. I love you and we made a vow-”

“Frank I’ve kept my distance-”

“Let me finish. I love you and I am your husband, so I know you. And I know it’s killing you to not be there to help him.” Frank rubs his face and the stands up straight. “I don’t know how this is going to work, but I know we need to make it work because I can see how sad you are. I can even see how sad Winter is. He needs you.” Frank admits, it’s a weird weight off his chest. He didn’t need to be coddled but Winter did, you need someone to coddle, take care of, it’s something you rarely got to do with him. It’s that moment he realized you need Winter as bad as he needed you.

“Thank you, Frank.” You pulls him close and kiss him. “I love you. Nothing and no one will ever change how much I love you.” Frank nods and kisses you again.

At first Frank didn’t want to see it at all. When he left for work, whatever went on, was separate. He didn’t see or hear and no one told him about it. It grew from there, walking into rooms without knocking, or sweet moments that just couldn’t be contained till Frank left, he grew to be slightly okay with it all. Nowadays, Winter seems to trust Frank and Frank even lets Winter help with the boat. As ‘horrible’ as Frank might have thought this would end up, it actually ended up to not be a disaster. Winter is better at calming you down when you are worried, Frank could do it but Winter is just better at it. Frank is better at coming up with solutions and fixing the problem. It was the best of both worlds. If Frank ever spotted you two kissing, it wasn't weird anymore. Seeing touches and hearing noises that Frank also pulled out of you wasn't odd. He wasn't even bothered by the look on Winter’s face afterward. That's when Frank realized Winter was part of this life you all were living and it was strangely fitting.

Now, the ‘Winter Soldier’ made Ransom think twice about sneaking in and taking “advantage” of his wife, his Dutchess. And it was Winter’s loathing that turned out to be the thing that genuinely bonded them. Winter is a great bodyguard, constantly making sure Ransom didn't find a way to get his slimy hands on their woman. Frank doesn’t understand how Precious and Daisy even look at the man. He was just glad you didn't. You wouldn't. No way. No matter how Ransom made you laugh! You had him and Winter, that would be enough.

Frank really can’t stand Ransom, he doesn’t know what it is about him. Maybe it’s his stupid perfect hair, or his privilege that makes his hands soft and smooth unlike Frank’s rough ones. Maybe it’s the way he just assumes everyone should know who he is. Frank can’t put a finger on it exactly, he just knows he can’t stand the guy. Honestly, he didn't even feel sorry for washing his red Christmas sweater with that pretentious white sweater. Pink fitted Drysdale's bloated face perfectly. His yelling sounding through the house when he found out it was ruined? That still puts a smile on Frank’s face to this day. Winter glanced at him from the side of his eyes, quickly took another big bite out of his stack of pancakes, freshly made by Bucky for breakfast, and wisely remained silent. Though Frank swears the man's lips had lifted slightly.

Frank didn't feel guilty, not one bit. Not even when you theatrically held the Christmas sweater up that evening, "You forgot to put this away; it's freshly washed. Weird though, I could've sworn we put it away, seeing as it's summer!" You eye him, and Frank shrugs. He didn't need to say anything because you both know it had been him. "Ransom’s going to find out it was you when you wear it at Christmas."

"If he's still here at Christmas." Frank challenges and you sighs.

"He never wants to leave. He's already having fun with Daisy and Precious. He likes it here."

"As long as you don't-" Frank says under his breath.

"What?! Like him?" Dutchess asks.

"Sleep with him.” Frank corrects. You look away from him, which makes him suspicious. “You won't, right?” Frank asks a little more unsure and suspicious.

"The man probably doesn't even like me." You mutter say. That was bullshit, Ransom liked anyone he couldn't have and the man was already trying. There was a reason Winter had put a lock on the door a month ago.

"He does." Frank states. You blush, Frank notices.

"He does?" Even if Ransom had been standing in front of you naked saying, 'I want to fuck you!' You probably still wouldn’t have believed him.

"He's not getting in," Frank says firmly. "Also his hair is too shiny.” Frank says with a little annoyance, you can’t help but laugh.

"His hair is too shiny?? Come on, you're being ridiculous." You kiss his cheek and leaves the bedroom, bumping into Ransom along the way, your laugh drifting down the hall and pulling at Frank’s heart. What he really meant was, I don't want you to love him more than us; he's a dick that doesn't deserve you or anyone. Please don't fall for his stupid tricks. But he also really hated that stupid hair…and everything under it. He is lost in thought as you walk back in to retrieve your phone. You see Frank, his brow furrowed and lost in thought.

"Frank," you speak softly as you walk closer, placing your hand on his cheek, "I have you and Bucky; what more could I want?” You kiss him and leave again. Frank still can’t help but worry, sadly he has seen Ransom naked, and he's heard the others when they fucked him. Frank notices how Ransom watches you when you aren't aware. Maybe they should put another lock on the door or this time on his you. Frank didn't trust him one bit.

*** 4 Months later- September ***

“Fuck!!! Yes, keep going!” Ransom moans as you stroke him in your hand. He stares down at your chest, still contained in your bra. “Please let me touch you?!” He begs. You smile and shake your head as you lean forward and press a kiss to his chest, grazing over his nipples while you quicken your pace with your other hand. Ransom moans loudly as he cums hard all over your chest, a little bit slipping beneath your bra. “Mmhmm fffuuuckkk!” He screams. You work him through it and then leave him to come down from his high a little more as you clean off your chest and hands with a wet rag, you toss him the rag after you’re done. “When will I finally be able to fuck and cum in that sweet pussy of yours. I mean I love your hands, chess but-”

“You know the rules, Ran. Now go, I still haven’t cum yet.” Ransom smiles and pulls your body close. You are still dressed except for your shirt. Ransom goes to lift your skirt, scrunching it right at your ass. You decided on a long flowy skirt today and Ransom is about to make that a problem.

“You know I’d love to stay and help you with that.” Ransom leans in to kiss you when the door swings open and Frank appears, Winter standing beside him.

“You know the rules, Ransom. You got your fuck, now leave while we take care of our girl.” Frank says as he moves close to you. Winter stares Ransom down as he walks by. Random sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t get to cum in her and I don’t get to make her cum.” Random says as he picks up his clothes. “Seems to me you’re just devaluing her. Making her nothing more than a wet hole for me.” Winter turns to attack and you call him off.

“Winter, come here.” Winter walks over and you run your hands through his hair as you pull him into a kiss. You then push him to his knees, he goes willingly. A leg thrown over his shoulder and your flowy skirt thrown over him for privacy since he is still shy about being sexual around anyone other than you or Frank. He is eating you out in seconds, starting the job Ransom isn’t allowed to do “You want in my bed Ransom? This is how we are doing it. You have to earn your privilege,” you place your hand over Winter’s head, who is still below your skirt. “Mmhmm just like that, baby.” You moan and close your eyes for a moment. When you open them you look at Ransom, “Also, I’m the wet hole?” You question. “You’re the one who is already thinking about finding someone else to ride you after you leave. You are more than that but until you can be honest with yourself about what you need, then this is how it will be.” Ransom scoffs as he leaves the room. Frank turns his gaze back on you and kisses you deeply.

“I love you, Dutchess.” You smile against his lips.

“I love you too, Frank. Mmhmm I love you, Winter.” You say as you pull the man up from his knees.

“I love you, Dutchess.” He kisses you, you taste yourself on his tongue. “Who do you want to bring you over the edge?” You smile as you look at your husband.

“Frank, baby please.” You say and you pull him close.

“Gladly” he says as he kisses you and starts to undress. Winter kisses your shoulder.

“I will make sure you’re not disturbed.” Frank nods a thank you and Winter gives a small smile back.

When Ransom finally managed to get you to believe him when he said he wanted you, the only way Frank agreed were two rules. These two things had to remain for him and Winter alone. Only they get to cum inside you and only they get to make you cum. Making you cum was special and only the men who truly loved you deserved that privilege. And cumming inside you was because Frank and Winter wanted to be the ones to claim you in that way. They have earned your love and devotion and they wanted that to be left for them. There was no birth control reason for it seeing as you are on the pill, it was more a relationship step that Ransom was nowhere near. Surprisingly Ransom agreed although he seems to be rethinking the agreement now. Your moans traveling down the hallway, the moans he hears but never gets to cause, they are different then the ones you make during sex with him. He wants to have all of you one day. He walks by Daisy’s room and hears late night sex happening in there too, then he hears a soft question and a happy, tearful answer.

“Yes, Bucky! I’d love to marry you. Stevie?”

“Looks like we’re getting married again, Daisy girl.” After is filled with more quick breaths and moans from what Ransom can only assume is the three of you. Daisy gets two men, Dutchess gets two men, does Precious, or whatever Jake calls her, have two men?

“Hey, precious!” She turns around and faces Ransom. “Got any room in your bed?” He smirks. She shakes her head.

“That is not a name you get to call me. Besides, is that really what you need.” She asks. Ransom's lip curls up as he fights to roll his eyes. “If you can't answer, then no bed. For now you need to go shower and clean up your room downstairs.” Ransom pouts a little. “Go now, no pouting.” Ransom leaves and Jake comes up behind Precious.

“Oh no, are you bringing home a stray?” He teases and Precious smiles and shrugs.

“Hmm, what do you think?”

Taglist: @rainydayandmondays @theinheriteddutchess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @cjand10 @janineb86

#chris evans #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #daddy #hydra cap #jake jensen #jefferson ouat #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #sebastian stan #frank adler #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier smut #frank adler smut #frank adler x reader #ransom drysdale smut

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imaginedreamwrite · 2 years

Text

Alpha!silverfox!Steve Rogers

Asylum!Steve Rogers and nurse!Reader

Brave New World

Breathe You In

Curtis & Mousey

Jake Jensen & Pretty Girl

Jake Jensen & Princess

Lloyd & Pumpkin

Lycan!Steve Rogers & barista!Reader

Photo ask game drabbles

Silverfox!professor!Ari Levinson & his librarian

Silverfox!Bucky & Sweet Girl

Silverfox!Johnny Storm & Little flame

Silverfox!mechanic!Steve Rogers x nurse!Reader

Silverfox!paramedic!Bucky Barnes & Bambi

Werewolf!Ari Levinson & Sweetpea

Wildest Dreams

Six sentence smut — thick thighs, Stucky x reader

Johnny & Jake & plus-sized reader

Sugar & Spice welcome home Wednesday

Thick thighs save lives take out Tuesday

Mob!Andy & mob!Lloyd

Three reasons why…YAY Steve

Three reasons why…BB&B

Jefferson gets angry and runs off his cat familiar

Colin Shea hockey

Werewolf!Ari sleepy Sunday

Monster match-up orc!Curtis Everett

White werewolf!Bucky Barnes

Lycan!skinny!Steve Rogers

Lucas Lee university soulmate

Bucky and his ex wife (Bucky is an asshole)

Bucky loses Reader (Once Bitten, Twice Shy)

Steve x reader x Natasha (bisexual!reader)

Fae!Stucky find cat!shifter!Reader

Silverfox!Ransom Drysdale meets reader’s child

Silverfox!Nick Fowler

BT Ransom takes his omegas shopping

Chubby!Bucky takes care of Becca while reader’s gone

Demon!Curtis Everett x human!Reader

Death!Bucky Barnes x life!Reader

Demon!Curtis confronts readers ex

Pipsqueak makes a good tray for Nick and the team

Fae!Jefferson and his reader go to a festival

Construction!alpha!Curtis Everett

Nick introduces pipsqueak to his teammates

Silverfox!Nick Fowler

Kitty!Reader is saved and housed by fae!Curtis, her defender when Jefferson comes to collect her

Ceo!Ari meets plus-sized!Reader at her bakery

Alpha!biker!Steve and alpha!biker!Ari meet pregnant!omega!Reader

Chris Evans (rpf) x pregnant!one night stand!Reader

Demon!Curtis teases reader

Here’s Your Perfect (drabble)

Ari is in a rut, Ice Princess has to help him out

Werewolf!Curtis Everett meets his luna!Reader at his work

Soft!dark!Steve Rogers and his wife

Soft!dark!mob!Steve Rogers and his wife

Jake Seresin gets protective

Silverfox!biker!Steve meets Ladybug

Silverfox!cowboy!Curtis meets his bride at the airport

Silverfox!cowboy!Curtis & reader sleep together for the first time

Bucky meets Steve’s assistant (HFY)

Cop!Andy Barber x arrested!Reader — how they meet

A/b/o angst

Silverfox!lawyer!Andy Barber

Silverfox!mob!Steve Rogers

Werepanther!Andy Barber gets set up with human!Reader

Merman!Curtis Everett x nurse!Reader

Silverfox!Steve Rogers x Ladybug

Werewolf!Curtis Everett x human!Reader

Fae!Ransom Drysdale x human!Reader

Silverfox!cowboy!Curtis gives reader a sad goodbye

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that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald · 4 months

Note

I’ve been getting into life is strange and I was always curious. What if Mark Jefferson had a daughter and they moved because his wife just left him a note and ran off. His anger comes out and destroys the apartment. He manipulates his kid when this happens, wanting to maintain the little control he has. They move to Arcadia Bay and his kid adjusts well considering. Then he takes Nathan under his wing to help get his hobby going. Then he finds out that Nathan has been taking photos of his daughter when she’s not looking…….serial killer side of him comes out and makes it very clear to Nathan his daughter is off limits from their little hobby.

See my masterlist here!

—❢ー

×A/N×

omg I really love the last sentence of this

I mean- I love all of this, but-

I know that it would be better if I would write an oneshot of this, but the last time when I did the same thing with a promised oneshot, the work was... pretty bad-

I hope you don't mind it! ^^"

Btw I'm happy about you're planning to join to the LiS community, or at least you're curious/interested about it! Unfortunately in my social group there aren't really people who knows the fandom, so I'm always happy about new fans! ^^

And sorry bc I didn't answer this inbox, I just wanted to get done with the Welcome Home headcanons :")

Anyway, in these hcs I will be a bit negative about Mark, but I still love him -//w//-

(I'm actually planning to write more x readers about him-)

×❢ About my work ❢×

fluff and definitely not fluff, dad moments, Mark is not the greatest father, there's also my thoughts in this, pls forgive him, this is not x reader, (bad) father-daughter realtionship, no pronouns used, but the reader is female, spelling mistakes, mention of kidnapping, mention of the Dark Room

Fandom: Life is Strange (1)

Charcter(s): Mark Jefferson, Mark's daughter|You| (Y/N) | The Reader, Nathan Prescott (mentioned), Warren Graham (mentioned), Max Caulfield (mentioned), Rachel Amber (mentioned)

Ship(s): Warren Graham x Reader (ex.), Nathan Prescott x Reader (ex.), Max Caulfield x Reader (ex.)

Type: Headcanons

—❢ー

𝐈𝐟 (𝐘/𝐍) 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫… (𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐜𝐬)

—❢—

𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈: Hayloft by Mother Mother

(A.n: 'Cause this is the next on my playlist and I love it so much lol)

“My daddy's got a gun

You better run”

—❢ー

Oki, let's start with some sweet ones:

• If he's not tired, then prepare for breakfast in bed

• "Did you sleep good, hon?"

• morning kisses 🥺❤

• while you cry on him, he would gently caress you

• "Shh, it's okay, sweetheart."

Now, some serious stuff:

• He wouldn't be the greatest father tho, I think

• still, I think he would be protective about his daughter

• 'cause of his hobby and about boys in general lol

• Seriously I think he would feel safer if you would chose girls instead

• but it's your choice ofc

• He will definitely talk about his job and of photography ofc

• If his daughter not interested, then he won't push it

• ofc, he will be a bit bitter

• but he understands it

• Although, he will mention or talk about it just a bit sometimes

• But if you are interested in photography

• be prepared that photography will be you two's first or at least second topic

• he's a real teacher, so you won't have problem to learn from him

• Actually I think he would be happy about that there's something that you both can talk about

• (at least the suspense will be less from you, and it helps him to keep you away from his crazy hobby)

• Don't mention Mom.

• You will see him less more, when you are old enough to be left alone

• He comes home late, and he does this more often

• "Dad?" you asked unsurely when he picked up the phone. You were worried, so you choose to give him call. Is teaching lasts this long? "Where are you?"

"Oh... Daddy's working right now, sweetheart. I promise, I will be home soon, okay?"

And he kept saying this after hours and hours.

• Get used to that you will be alone for a long time

• He will ask you teasingly about if you like someone

• but the real reason is that he wants to know who he has to deal with

• his reactions depends on the person

• If the person is Nathan (who is his... well, let's say partner of those insane things), he will be definitely more protective and will keep an eye on both of you for a long time

• deadly and serious threats ahead, if he still won't leave you alone

• he will be potective because he knows Nathan very well and the crimes that himself he commited, and other side bc he's a father and he wants to keep his beautiful daughter safe

• But if the person would be for example Max, he would be more relaxed

• (He would even think trough her kidnapping. There's a chance that he won't hurt her. Even if it's hard for him to conntrol his sick addiction)

• He still tests her if she's good enough for you, but he will be more easier on her

• OR let's say the person is Warren-

• "The geek?"

"Dad!"

• He doesn't know that much about him

• and bc of this he will definitely test him

• I mean he doesn't mind that you're with smart boys

• but you know, he has to make sure

• Now, I think we're almost there at the end of these hcs-

• You sat in the can uncomfortably. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but it didn't help.

"So, was the test okay?" you heard you father next beside you.

You nodded, even if you knew that he doesn't see you 'cause he's focusing on the road.

"Dad?" You spoke unsurely, don't know how to say out loud your thoughts.

"Yes, sweetie?" He glanced at you with a kind smile on his face, but it dissapeared when he saw how stressed you were. "What's wrong, honey?"

You tried to swallow the nervousness, but it was worthless and didn't help at all.

"So, you know those Rachel Amber missing posters? They're almost everywhere."

Mark could feel how his heart skipped a beat. Now he started to feel nervous as well.

"Yes, dear?" Focus on the road. Focus on the road. Focus on the road. Focus on the road.

"Did you know her?"

He let out a small sigh. He didn't want that his daughter notice that he's nervous. He tried to act calmly.

"No, sweetheart." he spoke as he hid away the frustration in his voice.

"Okay." you said quietly. You sounded convinced.

He carefully glanced at you again.

"Are you scared?"

There was a couple of seconds until you answered.

"Maybe... I don't wanna imagine what terrible things those people did to her. But my mind keep distracting me, even if I don't want to think about it."

You could feel the gentle touch of his warm hands.

"Don't worry, hon. I'll keep you safe."

And with that you were convinced that your dad is there and you're more than safe with him.

• Why would he be a bad father?

I think his psychotic hobby would be more important to him than his own daughter. He would be definitely overprotective about you, but also he wouldn't be there for you. Like there's no movie night, cause again, he has things to do in the Dark Room.

Yes, he would care about his daughter, he would also be a good listener, but you rarely meet him. He wouldn't be there for you when you need him.

I don't think he would hurt his daughter physically, but don't test him. He's enough stressed about his victims.

And he would pay too much attention about keeping you safe.

From his hobby, from Nathan, from everything.

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 years

Text

Things that go bump in the night

AN: And it's day 14 and we're getting closer to the half way point.

Today's fic is a DARK fic. You have been warned. This story contains outright NON-CON.

I’m using dialogue prompts from this post by @nightprompts and they can be found emboldened in the text.

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Beta’d by @mickeyhenrys

Dividers by @firefly-graphics, banners and covers by me.

Grouping: Jefferson x Reader, Lee Bodecker x Reader, Charles Blackwood x Reader, Nick Fowler x Reader

CW: Gangbang, Clothing disparity, kidnap, RAPE, Explicit sexual content, threats of violence, drugging, basement wife-ing

Word Count: 2.4k

Your mouth felt dry as you woke, and your eyes felt gritty. You lifted your hand to rub the rough particles away but were brought to full wakefulness as you realised that your movement was restricted. Your eyes shot open, images and memories from last night assaulting your brain at lighting speed.

Your blind-date with Jeff, no Jefferson.

Tall, dark, handsome, certainly, but your date had had an aura about him that had made you less than comfortable, and before the end of the second drink you’d already decided there wouldn’t be a follow-up. However, when he’d been away in the bathroom a man with sandy chestnut hair, well coiffured, had approached you, flirting overtly and in quite an aggressive manner. What was it about you and attracting men so covered in red flags they may as well be parade bunting?

Jefferson had returned and there had been a stand-off between the two men, which turned into verbal sparring, with you caught in the middle, trying to mediate, and feeling more and more uncomfortable. As the men’s voices had gotten louder a third man had come over, the local sheriff.

He was obviously trying to talk sense into Jefferson and the aggressive stranger, but he was a big man, and standing where he had, he’d loomed over you, blocking out your vision of the rest of the bar, as well as your exit.

You’d felt your panic start to rise, but by this point the three men surrounding you hadn’t been

paying any attention. Feeling as though you were going to throw up any moment, you’d been

relieved when a hand had wrapped around your arm and plucked you out of the middle of the angry circle and pulled you outside the bar.

“Hey there. Are you okay? Looks like things were getting heated and you were obviously uncomfortable.”

Wiping your damp palms down your dress, you looked up at the concerned stranger. Neatly cut dark brown hair, a bit of stubble and piercing blue eyes, he was definitely handsome, but your thought was fleeting. You just wanted to go home.

“Um, thanks for helping me out. It wasn’t really how I envisaged my night going, but I suppose that’s the risk you take on going on blind dates; you’re never quite sure who you’re going to get.” Your lips twitched up as you tried to inject some levity into the situation, but you knew that your smile didn’t reach your eyes. The had man let out a short snort of laughter, letting you know he’d fully understood your situation.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” You’d reached into your bag for your phone. “I’ll just call a taxi and head home.”

Rooting around in your bag, with your head down, you hadn’t noticed the stranger move closer, only looking up when you felt a scratch on your neck. You’d looked into his eyes with a gasp, drowning in the blueness of them until the whole world had gone dark.

You breathed in deeply through your nose, trying to keep yourself calm. Your first instinct was to shout out, but you thought better of it. You were naked and tied to a bed. The chances that there was someone else in the house other than your kidnapper was slim. Instead, you studied your surroundings.

The room was dark, with no windows and had a musty damp smell to it. So probably a basement.

Great. Limited routes for escape. The sound of a door creaking somewhere above you, and footsteps on stairs confirmed your subterranean location. You listened and realised that it was more than one set of footsteps. You couldn’t hold back a tremor of fear now – more than one captor just greatly reduced your odds of getting free.

When they came into view a bubble of hysterical laughter came up your throat.

Of course. It had all been a total set up.

Jefferson walked up to the side of the bed, hat perched jauntily on his head and a grin on his face. He trailed his beringed knuckles down the side of your cheek in a gross caress.

“Ain’t you pretty, all trussed up like this for us.” He looked over his shoulder at your erstwhile rescuer. “You done good, Nicky.”

‘Nicky’ rolled his eyes at the condescending note in Jefferson’s voice, but didn’t say anything, just leant against the wall, took a wicked looking switchblade from his pocket and proceeded to clean his fingernails with the tip.

With his attention back on you, Jefferson stroked his hands over your body, smiling when you let out a yelp when he tweaked one of your nipples.

“Let go of me,” you ground out. “Why am I here, Jefferson?”

“Feisty, I like it!” He bounced on his toes a couple of times and clapped his hands, in manic glee, before bending over you, face close to your ear. “We’ve been waiting, Sheriff Lee, Charles, Nicky and me. Waiting for our own little ray of sunshine to come brighten our days and warm our nights.” His fingers trailed down your stomach and you bucked your hips, trying to stop his descent. “Be a good girl and maybe we’ll untie you.”

Anger surged through you. “Get off me, you bastard!” Jefferson swooped his hand back up to grip your neck, and squeezed lightly.

“I don’t think you are in any position to make demands here, treasure.” He kissed you then, hard and possessive, his lips forcing yours open and thrusting his tongue inside. You considered biting him, but what would that achieve? When his hand left your neck, it went straight to your pussy, his fingers easily parting your folds and stroking surprisingly gently. He found your clit with ease and you cursed your body when it started to respond. You closed your eyes and told yourself over and over that it was just a physical reaction. Jefferson trailed his kisses down your body and you strained against your bonds. The sound of heavy footsteps nearing had you looking up again. The sheriff, Lee, approached, staring intently at you, thumbs hooked in a belt that was struggling to hold his pants up over his thick waist. His uniform shirt strained over his chest and his broad arms.

“You look as sweet as a peach pie there, darlin’. Can’t wait to try you out. But maybe, while ole’ Jeff here is getting you to sing, I’ll have a little taste.” With a meaty hand he groped at one of your breasts, mesmerised for a few seconds by how your flesh spilled out between his fingers, but then he was bending over you and sucking your breast into his mouth. This coincided with Jefferson attaching his lips to your pussy. You bit your lip, desperately trying not to give any sign of your physical enjoyment, but you knew it was a losing battle. Kidnapping bastards they maybe, but the two touching you at least knew how to please a woman.

More footsteps and you realised the other two men, Charles and Nick-Nicky-whatever, had moved closer two, watching. You could see the obvious bulges in their pants and you lost your tentative control over your body. You scrunched up your eyes, eager not to see them as they watched you cum, shaking under Jefferson and Lee, small squeaks and whimpers escaping your lips. You opened your eyes when Jefferson lifted his head, his lips glistening as he grinned at you.

“See, we’re not all bad.” His hands went to his belt, and it clanked loudly in the space as he undid it. He reached in and pulled out his cock, stroking it as he looked at you. The rings on his fingers shone under the light and you couldn’t pull your gaze away. He climbed up onto the bed, crawling over you, the disparity between your naked, vulnerable state and all of their clothed, power-wielding states was stark.

“Please. Don’t.” You whispered your plea, but Jefferson kept grinning, kept looking at you and kept moving up over your body. You closed your eyes again as he pressed his lips to your neck and thrust inside you. The air was punched from your lungs, and you gave him a silent thanks for giving you some prep. He sucked and bit at your neck as he fucked you, and you gripped the ropes tethering your arms to the bed.

“I’ve found you now, my treasure. Gonna keep you here, fuck this pussy whenever I need.” You tried to ignore his unhinged rambling and prayed he’d finish soon, because he was unfairly good at this, stimulating your body better than any previous lover. Your prayers were answered when he groaned, and you felt him cumming inside you. You turned your head to the side, staring at the wall as he clambered off you, but he gripped your chin with his hand, turning you back to face him, so he could kiss you again. He didn’t even seem to care that you weren’t reciprocating.

He finally moved away, easing down onto a chaise longue on the other side of the room, uncaring of the silent tears that ran down your cheeks. But someone else noticed.

“Don’t cry darlin’. You’ll find that it’s not so bad. We can be good to you.” Lee moved back into your field of vision, and with his thumb, swiped your tears from your cheeks, before sucking the digit into his mouth.

“I…I just don’t understand why. Why me?”

“Well, you’re the only one we could all agree on.” He climbed up on the bed, apparently his turn to undo his belt and take what he wanted. “Beautiful, smart, good with kids, a domestic goddess.” He shoved his uniform pants down and pulled his cock out of boxers. Like Jefferson, he was definitely generously endowed. “Now be a good girl.”

He pushed into you, and moaned. His large stomach pressed against yours, the buttons and material of his shirt rubbing over your skin. His mouth sloppily attached to one of your breasts again. You knew you were going to cum again, and soon, although you wished you wouldn’t.

“Now come on, baby. Don’t look so sad. Open your mouth. As Lee said, be a good girl.”

The man called Charles, the suave and handsome asshole from the bar, stood by your head, his own cock out of his well tailored pants and pointing at your mouth. The sad thing about all of this was that none of the men were ugly, or anything, at least not physically. Why they’d had to resort to this you didn’t know, although at this point you didn’t care. Your overriding thought was survival. You opened your mouth.

Charles was musky, perfumed almost, and well groomed, of which you weren’t surprised. When Charles pressed into your throat you gagged slightly, your body tensing and Lee moaned around your breast when he felt you involuntarily clench around him. Charles was making similar noises, feeling your throat constrict around his length, felt your tongue against the underside of him.

“Fuck, baby. Such a good whore for us.” Your eyes watered from Charles’ assault on your throat and the way that every thrust of Lee’s hips pushed you further onto the cock in your mouth. Charles put his hand around your throat, and groaned as he felt himself there. Lee pressed you into the bed and his body rubbed back and forth over your clit, stimulating it just right (or from your current point of view, wrong). Your second orgasm hit you like a freight train, and was equally as unwelcome.

Lee popped off your breast and threw his head back, virtually roaring as he pumped his seed into your already overflowing pussy. He’d barely finished emptying himself when he slid out of you, and shimmied down your body, holding your folds apart and watching the sticky white fluid leak out of you.

“Ain’t that a wonderful sight.”

You screwed your eyes tight again and you felt Charles increase his pace. You gagged and spluttered, and your bound hands fluttered uselessly as Charles spilled down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow what he gave you. He tucked himself away and pushed his hair out of his eyes as he, Lee and Jefferson made their way towards the stairs that led up and out of your prison. They passed Nick on the way, bidding him good-bye. Jefferson hopped onto the bottom step but ducked back down to leer at you once again.

“Au revoir, treasure - see you again soon!”

The three men made their way upwards, the basement door closing behind them and you tracked their steps across the floor above your head.

The mattress dipped by your side and you turned to look at Nick, the only man remaining. You wished you could shrink in on yourself, but your bonds prevented it.

“Please. Please let me go. I won’t tell, I promise. I’ll go far away. I’ll…” Nick pulled his blade out of his pocket and flicked it open, making your words die in your throat. He trailed it lightly down your body and you didn’t dare breath, lest he knick you. You were surprised though when he cut through the bonds on your ankles and then leant up to cut the ones at your wrists. You sat up and rubbed at the welts that had appeared, confusion clouding your features.

“You’re…you’re letting me go?”

Nick smiled at you, dark and predatory and you realised you were wrong. You tried to launch yourself off the bed, but your muscles didn’t obey you and you were quickly grabbed and flipped onto your stomach.

“Let you go, sweetheart? Why would I want to do that? With you here, under my roof, I can have you whenever,” he tapped over your asshole with the handle of his knife, “and however I want. There’s so many things I wanna do to you.”

You scrabbled at the bed clothes and could no longer stop the sobs from escaping your body as you heard the slide of his zipper and felt his hand on the back of your neck, holding you down.

There was no escape.

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @poppunksnowwhite @navybrat817

#kinktober22 #kinktober 2022 #late writes #nick fowler x reader #jefferson x reader #charles blackwood x reader #lee bodecker x reader #dark fic

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bookloover35 · 7 months

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Jefferson X fem reader- Wedding day.

Yns Pov :

Okay, everything will be fine, just breathe and take it easy.

Why am I nervous?

Today I will marry the man I love.

So why am I nervous?

Grace: Momma, Is everything okay?

I turned to her and hugged her.

I can't lie to her, I'm a little nervous because it feels like I'm replecing her real mother.

Grace calls me mom, it feels a little strange.

I remember the day she asked me if she could call me mom.

She quickly noticed that I was starting to overthink and hugged me and said.

Grace: I want to call you mom, because I see you as my mom and because I love you.

Back to the present.

Yn: I'm okay sweetie just a little nervous and can't shake the feeling that I'm replecing your mom.

Grace: You don't papa loves you and so do I and it's okay to be nervous and you're not alone in being nervous.

Yn: What do you mean?

Grace: Papa, is also nervous he is pacing back and forth he wants everything to go well today.

Okay, it's nice to know I'm not the only one who's nervous.

Grace: Papa really loves you.

Yn: And I really love him, and I love you very much.

Timeskip Jefferson Pov:

Okay today it happens today I will have the great honor to marry my dearest Yn.

I don't understand why I'm nervous.

All I want is for everything to go well today and I'm worried about Yn.

She thinks she is replacing Grace's mother.

But she doesn't Grace's mom died years ago and I'm a hundred percent sure Grace's mom sent Yn to us.

To make us smile again and make us feel loved again.

Knock Knock

Grace: Papa it's time now.

Yns Pov:

Okay so far the wedding is going perfectly.

And now it's time for us to say our vows.

We had decided to have a very small wedding with just the three of us and a priest.

We had also decided to have the wedding close to our home by the river.

Grace is our flower girl and she is so beautiful.

Jefferson and I almost started to cry when we saw each other.

I held one of his hands and began to read my vow.

Yn: Jefferson when you found me I wanted nothing to do with love.

I thought love wasn't for me.

But oh how wrong I was.

You made me believe in love again and I fell for you very quickly.

I love you and I love Grace like she was my real daughter.

I promise to be a good wife and mother to grace, love you both more than anything else in life.

I felt a small tear run down my cheek and Jefferson's thumb wiped it away and gave me a kiss on the cheek then it was his turn to read his vow.

Jefferson: Yn, you always say I saved you.

But it was you who saved me.

When we lost Grace's mother, I strongly believed that I would never fall in love again.

But then I met you.

I strongly believe that Grace's mother sent you to us to love me and to love and care for Grace.

I promise to always show you my gratitude and how much I love you.

Because you are the first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing I see when I go to bed.

Priest: The rings.

We put the rings on each other's fingers and then the priest said.

The priest: Now you are husband and wife you can kiss the bride.

The kiss was absolutely fantastic, it felt like several fireworks and I felt freedom.

Finally we are husband and wife.

I can't wait to see all our future adventures with our little family.

Who knows, the next adventure might be a new little family member.

#wattpad #wattpadstories #wattpad story #my own words #jefferson once upon a time #once upon a time #jefferson ouat

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blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms · 1 year

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Snapped- Alexander Hamilton

Pairing: Alexander Hamilton x Reader

Characters: Alexander Hamilton

Warnings: N/A

Request: Wattpad- "If you say that again I am going to stab you with a rusty knife."

Word Count: 462

Author: Charlotte

Since the day you met Alexander, you had supported his ambition and appreciated how hard he worked at whatever he put his mind to. You didn’t realise how hard that would become though as he pursued furthering his career and threw himself into his world of work, not thinking about how much he had pulled away from you and his family life.

At first, he seemed like a doting husband, and you did believe that he loved you but now you were the mother of his four children, and he seemed to be rarely home and even when he was home, he was locked away in his office. For the first time in the last month, he was home and you had joined him in his office after the children had gone to bed. He was glad to spend time with you but quickly talk drifted from how his children were growing, to his political adversary, Thomas Jefferson. You had briefly met the man but most of what you knew of him was through the professional relationship he had with your husband.

The once civil conversation had quickly become heated from Alexander’s side, him ridding himself from his seat and beginning to pace back and forth up the length of his office. You sat patiently, hoping he would lose momentum and return to talking to you rather than at you but every time you thought there was a break, it was simply for breath.

You had heard every piece of dirt on the man, some of which you assumed was fictitious just to help Alexander feel righteous in hating him, but you had started to lose concentration on the words he said, only hearing a constant lull of his voice; the only thing coming through was the constant repetition of Jefferson’s name.

He went to start on another rant and the patience that you had tried to hold onto finally snapped.

“If you say that again I am going to stab you with a rusty knife,” you snapped.

You felt your face flush as your chest heaved, anxiety running through you. You never raised your voice to your husband, but you had finally broken; you hoped that the point would finally get through to him now.

“Pardon?” He questioned, taken aback by your tone.

“I do not need to hear the name of Thomas Jefferson every sentence. I would hope that the few hours I get to spend with my husband would not merely contain talk of your work. Do you recall that you even have a wife and children?”

The first time since you had met him, Alexander was lost for words. It was unlike you to snap at him but this time it may have actually sank in for him.

#Snapped #Request #Alexander Hamilton #Alexander Hamilton One Shot #Alexander Hamilton Imagine #Hamilton #Hamilton Imagine #Hamilton One Shot #Charlotte

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thewomenofchicagopd · 2 years

Text

Ambushed- Kim Burgess

Pairing: Kim x Reader

Summary: Reader gets ambushed

Requested: Yes by @kloy344

Words: 2535

Warnings: guns, shooting, being ambushed, hospitals, lack of knowledge of medical things- I'm so sorry if anything is wrong, and please let me know if there are any other trigger warnings that I may have missed.

A/N: I am so so so sorry this took a lot longer than it was suppose to. I was in the process of moving and signing for my house and then I had plumbing issues that weren't getting resolved and now they finally are. Thank you for your patience, and I really really hope you like this! 💜

You slowly awoke from your slumber. Slightly turning and looking over your shoulder, you saw Kim still asleep. You gently peeled the cover off and quietly went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. When you returned, Kim sat in bed, scrolling through her phone. You made your way towards the bed and leaned over to kiss Kim.

"Good morning." You beamed.

"Well, good morning to you, too. You're in a good mood."

You laughed. "I'm always in a good mood."

Kim snorted, knowing you were never really a morning person.

"What?" You asked, sitting in front of her.

"You're very rarely a morning person." Kim chuckled.

"Well, I got to marry the love of my life yesterday. What's not to be happy about."

"True, very true," Kim said and leaned over to kiss you. "Alright, come on, let's get ready for the day."

Walking into work, you weaved your way around the sea of people trying to get to the locker room to change. You barely passed your Sergeant's desk when she called you over.

"Y/L/N."

You stopped in your tracks and turned around, making your way to the front of the desk.

"Yes, Sergeant."

"You're getting a new partner today." She said without looking up from her paperwork.

"What happened to Smith?"

"Apparently, he didn't like your attitude."

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Sarge, how many partners am I going to go through before one just, I don't know, sticks around for more than one shift."

She looked up from her paperwork, cocking an eyebrow. "Well, if you'd quit running them off, I wouldn't have to go through all this trouble finding you one."

"Hey, I-"

"And there he is. Officer Mike Jefferson, this is your partner Y/N Y/L/N."

You turned and shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mike."

"You as well. I've heard great things about you." He said with a smile.

"I'm sure you have."

There was an awkward moment of silence before you spoke up.

"Alright, well, I'm going to get changed, and then we can head out."

Walking out of the locker room, you finished strapping up your vest and headed towards the desk to grab the keys to a squad car.

"Be safe out there." Your Sergeant called out as you walked out the door.

Riding around with a new partner was always awkward as hell, and you were never really good at keeping a conversation going, but Mike definitely could. You discovered more about him in the last couple of hours than you thought you would.

"So, have you lived in Chicago all your life?" You asked.

"No, I'm actually from Michigan. My wife got a job opportunity here and couldn't pass it up."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Yea, so what about you?

"No, I moved up here from Springfield a couple of years ago."

"You married?"

"Yea, I, uh, I actually just got married yesterday."

"Oh wow, well, congratulations, that's exciting."

"It is." You said with a big smile. "Just don't say anything to anyone, please. You are literally the first person I've told."

He looked at you, a little confused. "Not even Sergeant Miller knows?"

"Nope. No one even knows I'm dating someone. We'd only been dating for six months when she proposed, and then a month later, we decided just to get married. We weren't necessarily trying to keep our relationship private, but we just kept putting it off on telling people." You babbled.

"That's cool. My wife and I sort of did the same thing. Everyone knew we were together, but we got married secretly, honestly the best decision of our lives." He laughed.

"You ready to stop for some lunch?"

"Heck yea."

You parked in front of your favorite lunch spot. The aroma of the food wafting through the air made you excited. You loved stopping by here. The owner was the sweetest lady and always sent you away with some extra for the road. Walking in, you were immediately greeted with a hug from Sonya, the owner.

"I missed you, sweetie. How have you been? How's Kim?"

"We're good. We actually just got married yesterday."

A happy gasp left her lips as she wrapped you in another hug. "Oh my gosh, I'm so happy for you two."

"Thank you, Sonya."

"And who is this handsome fella?" She turned her attention over to Mike.

"Hi, I'm Mike." He said, offering a handshake.

"Oh, please, no one shakes hands around here." She waved him off and hugged him.

"Alright, you two, go find a spot, and I'll be by to get your orders."

"Thank you, Sonya."

Finishing up lunch, you said your goodbyes to Sonya and headed back to the patrol car. Before getting in your patrol car, a young kid was coming up to y'all saying he needed help. Following him a little way down the alley, there were two other kids, both with wooden baseball bats in their hands. You stopped in your tracks and watched as the kid that asked for help take off further down the alley. Putting your hand on your gun, you firmly asked them to drop their weapons, but they didn't. You pulled your gun from your holster as they got closer to you, but as soon as you did that, a gun was pointed at your's and Mike's head.

"Guns on the ground, or we blow your brains out." One of the guys behind you said.

You held your hands up in surrender and slowly kneeled to place your gun on the ground. Looking over at Mike, you both had the same look. You lightly nodded your head, and both of you spun around and took both the gunmen out from under their feet; as soon as they were on the ground, the other two men came up to y'all and started beating you with the bats. Punches and kicks were being delivered to every part of you and Mike. The last thing you heard before you passed out was a gunshot.

Fifteen minutes later, the Intelligence unit was called to the crime scene. You and Mike had already been taken to MED before they showed up.

"What do we got?" Voight asked one of the officers that were on the scene.

"Guy called and said he was going to clean up his backyard when he saw two officers laying on the ground motionless. He said he didn't know how long they were laying there before he saw them."

"Do we know the officers' names?"

"No, their badges are missing, and we can't find their patrol car within a mile radius."

"Alright, thanks." Voight turned around to talk with the team. "I need everyone to go around and start asking questions. See if anyone saw anything."

"That was Will," Jay said, jogging up the stairs as he hung up the phone. "He said both officers are in surgery and will update us when he finds out more."

"Have we been able to identify who the officers were?" Kim asked.

"Not yet, their badges were taken, and we're still waiting for POD footage to come through."

"Speaking of footage, I just got it," Kevin said as he turned his computer around.

Everyone gathered around his computer, and he hit play. They all watched intently.

"Oh my god." Kim gasped as she finally recognized one of the patrol officers getting ambushed.

"What?" Adam asked, turning to look at her.

"I know that patrol officer." She said, sitting up a little straighter, disbelief taking over her body. Kim felt like she was ready to puke. She couldn't believe you were the one getting ambushed, and this is how she found out.

Everyone looked at Kim, confused.

"You know this officer? How?" Voight asked.

"That's my wife,"

"Then who's the guy?" Jay asked.

"I don't know. She must have gotten a new partner." Kim replied as she went and grabbed her coat.

Before she could leave, Voight stopped her. "Whoa. Hey, Kim. Where are you going?"

"Sarge, get out of my way. I need to get to the hospital."

"Kim, I get it. But you won't be able to do anything there. You heard Jay. They're both in surgery, and who knows how long it could be before they're out."

Kim contemplated. She knew she couldn't do anything up at the hospital but wait, and here, she could at least figure out who hurt you. She threw her coat back onto her desk and continued watching the footage. Towards the end, they saw one of the guys pull the trigger and shoot you and Mike. Kim jumped when she heard the guns go off.

After watching the footage, Adam and Kim went to meet with one of Adam's CIs. On the drive there, Adam could tell Kim was thinking about you. Her leg was shaking, and she kept picking at the skin around her nails. He didn't know what to do except ask about Kim's relationship, trying to make her think of the happy times instead of you being in the hospital.

"Why did y'all decide to get married on a random ass Tuesday?"

"I don't know, Adam." Kim sighed. "We just did. I asked her to marry me about a month ago, and we were tired of planning and decided to get married."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"About?" Kim asked, confused.

"About your relationship." He laughed.

"We wanted to keep it private for a little while, and then we just got so used to being private we just never brought it up about going public."

"Well, then how about when Y/N gets out of the hospital and has had time to recover, we throw you a wedding party at Molly's?"

"Yea sounds like fun." Kim smiled sadly.

After they met with Adam's CI, they headed back to the district.

"Alright, my CI said he heard these two," Adam started as he pointed at the pictures of two men on the board. "Brothers, Mateo Garcia and Andres Garcia talking about roughing up some cops for 'fun.' Sarge, these two have a hefty rap sheet. Aggravated assault, battery, domestic violence, you name it."

"Do we have an LKA for these two?" Voight asked.

"Working on it," Hailey called out. "3319 S. Lowe Avenue."

"Suit up, let's go."

"Sarge, hang on a sec," Jay called out.

Everyone stopped and turned to look at Jay. He was on the phone. Kim's stomach tied up in knots. She hoped and prayed that Will was calling to give some good news.

"Alright, thanks, Will. Uh, so Mike seems to be doing good. Will said he's not out of the woods just yet, but they're hopeful."

"And Y/N?" Kim asked.

Jay paused for a moment, and Kim knew his silence wasn't good news. "Kim, I-I'm sorry. They don't expect Y/N to make it."

Kim didn't know what to do or say in that moment. Before she could drop to the floor, Kevin reached out and grabbed her. She sobbed in his arms. Everyone around her felt hopeless, as they didn't know what to do or say in that moment. She faintly heard Voight tell everyone to gear up and have Kevin take you to MED.

A week later and you were still in the hospital. The doctors had decided to put you in a medically induced coma to help some of the swelling in your brain go down. Kim lost count of all the testing and the surgeries you've had. Luckily you had only flat-lined once, but Kim dreaded it every day, scared you'd flat-line again and never come back. The unit went by every day, checking in on Kim and giving her a break so she could get food or go home and shower. She was thankful for the friends she had.

Kim slowly started nodding off. She laid her head onto your bed, sleep quickly taking over her body. She hadn't slept much in the last couple of days, and it was finally catching up. She would catch little naps here and there when doctors and nurses were out of the room and hadn't had a full night's rest.

A couple of hours later, you started slowly started to wake up. The bright lights are the first thing you see. You blinked, trying to remove the sleep from your eyes. When your eyes finally adjusted, you looked over to see Kim peacefully sleeping. You softly smiled and carefully placed your hand on her arm, just light enough to touch her but not wake her. Will walked into the room and was happy to see you awake. You put your finger to your lips, letting him know to be quiet.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked quietly.

"I feel like I got hit by a train." you laughed weakly. "Could I get some water, please?"

He reached over and grabbed the cup of water, helping you get a drink.

"Are you feeling ok? Any pain?"

"Yea, a little bit of pain and some soreness, but other than that, I'm good."

You felt Kim stir beside you. She looked up to see Will in your room, and concern grew on your face.

"I-is everything ok?" She hesitantly asked.

Will nodded. "Everything's ok. I'm sure someone would like to talk with you, though." Will smiled.

Kim looked at him, confused. He pointed a finger at you, and she turned her head to look. A look of surprise on her face when she saw your eyes open for the first time in a week. She quickly got up and carefully hugged you.

"Oh my god, you're awake." She whispered.

She sat down and grabbed your hand, still shocked that you were finally awake.

"I'll come back later and let you two catch up."

"Thanks, Will." You both said.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

"I'm ok. Just a little sore." You smiled then it dawned on you; your partner, Mike. "Oh my gosh, Mike. How is he?" You panicked as you felt bad for not even thinking about him until now.

"Good, he's good," Kim assured you. "He's got a broken rib, some cuts, and bruises, but besides that, he's good."

A sigh of relief escaped your lips. "And what about the people who attacked us?"

"We got 'em."

"Do you know why they did this to us?"

Before Kim could answer you, Mike and the Intelligence team walked in.

"There she is!" Mike excitedly yelled.

"Hey! How are you?"

"Good, good. Glad to finally see you're awake. Had us all worried there for a while."

"Had to keep you on your toes and make sure you were gone stick around and be my partner." You laughed

"Well, I'm happy to say I will be your partner." Mike smiled.

The rest of the day was spent with everyone getting to know each other. You couldn't have been happier to meet Kim's work family. And, of course, you were both drilled about how you met, your marriage, and how upset everyone was about not getting to be a part of your ceremony, all in good fun, though. You couldn't have asked for a better way to end the day after a terrible week.

#kim burgess #kim burgess imagines #kim burgess imagine #kim burgess smut #kim burgess x reader #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd #one chicago imagine #chicago pd imagine #one chicago #one chicago imagines #kim burgess edit

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months

Text

Christmas Treats » Jefferson/Mad Hatter

December 15th

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Jefferson x Wife/Mom!Reader with Grace

Summary: Y/N takes Grace to a Christmas market in her hometown and Grace is excited to show Jefferson what she got.

Warnings: Fluff, language, nothing but cuteness, hugs and kisses, pet names (honey, sweetheart)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

“What is all of this stuff?” Grace asks you, amazed by everything around her.

“It’s a market with Christmas treats.” You say.

“Can I get some?” She asks with puppy dog eyes.

“Of course you can, sweetheart!” You smiled.

Grace squeals in excitement and ran to the nearest shelf. The shelf had all kinds of candies. From salty to sweet and savory.

“Grace, don’t go too far!” You say, catching up with her.

“I’m sorry, mommy.” She apologizes. “I just like this place a lot.” She says.

“Me too.” You say, smiling in agreement.

Grace seen something on the top shelf that she wanted. She jumped and tried to reach for it.

“Mommy.” She turns to you. “Help me please.” She says, doing grabby hands.

You picked her up, settling her on your hip. Grace reached up and grabbed what she was trying to reach a moment ago.

“What is it?” You asked, setting her back on the floor.

“Chocolate snowman.” Grace shows you. “Mommy, look!” She says, running to the shelf with the stuffed animals.

She jumped up and down with excitement while pointing at a white bunny on the middle of the shelf. You walked over to her, grabbing the bunny and handed it to her.

“Can I get it please?” She asks.

“Yes you can.” You say with a smile.

Grace’s eye caught a glimpse of the treats in the glass case in the bakery. She immediately made her way over to it with you following behind her.

“What do you think papa would like?” You asked her.

“Muffins!” She says, pointing at the assortment of muffins.

“Good choice. Should we get cookies and brownies?” You asked.

Grace nodded her head with excitement. You told the employee behind the counter what treats you wanted and she gave you a box of the treats you requested.

“Let’s pay for everything.” You say to Grace.

Grace followed beside you to the front counter to pay for everything. Grace gasps loudly when she sees the hot chocolate stand outside the door.

“Mommy, look!” Grace says, tugging on your sweater and point at the hot chocolate stand.

“You want hot chocolate?” You asked, looking down at her.

“Yes please.” She says, nodding her head.

“Lead the way.” You tell her.

You followed behind Grace as you two made your way to the hot chocolate stand.

“I want the one with mini marshmallows and the red and green sprinkles.” She says.

“Good choice. Which one do you think papa would like?” You asked her.

“Umm…” She looks at the menu for a moment. “This one.” She says, pointing at the peppermint hot chocolate.

“That looks good. I might get that one too.” You say.

“What would you ladies like to order?” The employee asks.

“I would like 2 medium peppermint hot chocolates and a medium hot chocolate with red and green sprinkles and mini marshmallows.” You tell the employee.

The employee nodded and made the hot chocolates, handing it to you in a cup carrier. You paid for the hot chocolates and then you and Grace went to the car.

“Can I have my hot chocolate please?” Grace asks after buckling herself in.

“Yes you can, sweetheart.” You say, reaching your arm back to hand her the hot chocolate.

Grace held it carefully with both hands. She was so excited to show her papa what she got that she was almost bouncing with excitement in her seat.

“Jefferson, we’re home!” Your voice echoed through the house.

“We have treats!” Grace shouts.

Jefferson greeted you two with a hug and a kiss.

“Did you two have fun at the Christmas market?” Jefferson asks.

“Yes! Look, papa! I got a new bunny for my collection!” She says, showing him the bunny.

“It’s cute.” He smiles.

“I’m going to put it with my other bunnies!” She says, running to her bedroom.

Jefferson followed you to the kitchen as you put the treats on the counter. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and kissed your cheek. You smiled and turned around, placing your arms around his neck and stood on your tippy toes to give him a sweet kiss on his lips.

“What’s in the box?” Jefferson asks curiously.

“Treats.” You tell him.

You turned back around to open the box, Jefferson’s arms were still around your waist.

“Ooh, everything looks good.” He says, looking at the assortment of muffins, cookies, and brownies.

“This is for you.” You say, handing him his hot chocolate.

“Thank you, honey.” Jefferson kisses your lips again.

You and Jefferson started to kiss passionately when you guys heard little footsteps coming into the kitchen.

“Gross! Don’t do that neck to my treats!” Grace shouts, making you two laugh.

“Sorry.” You and Jefferson apologized.

“Muffin please.” She says politely.

You grabbed a plate from the cabinet and put a muffin on it, handing it to Grace.

“Eat it at the table.” You tell her.

Grace nodded and made her way to the table.

“Looks like you two had an amazing day.” Jefferson says, kissing your cheek.

“We did. You should come with us next weekend.” You say.

“Sounds like a plan.” He says, kissing your lips.

“What did I say about kissing next to the treats?!” Grace shouts from the table making you two laugh again.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

-Bucky’s Doll

#jefferson #mad hatter #jefferson mad hatter #jefferson once upon a time #jefferson ouat #once upon a time #ouat #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #jefferson x female reader #jefferson x wife!reader #jefferson x reader #jefferson x y/n #jefferson x you #jefferson fluff #jefferson one shot #jefferson imagine #wife!reader #mom!reader

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littlespace-imagines · 1 year

Note

Is your requests open? If so, could we get an alucard (adrian tapes) taking care of a little that is embaressed about their littlespace, and he helps them be okay with the regression? Thank you vwry much! Loved ur blog 💞

Alucard Tepes x little!reader

Contains: cgl, established dynamic, Alucard is educating himself, very fluffy, takes place while Alucard is alone, brief super brief mentions of SH

“I don’t understand it, what’s wrong with me!” You cried, hot tears streaming down your face

“Well, no, nothings wrong. Don’t be ashamed.” Alucard reached towards you but hesitated before rubbing your back

“How can you tell me not to be ashamed?! You’re not a baby to get rid of your stress.” You whimpered

“You’re not the first one to do that. It’s not odd, it’s very normal.” he pulled you into his lap and opened the book next to him for you to see

“Let’s see, we’ll read this together.” He cleared his throat

“August 15th 1847. Doctor Advarious’s medical journal. Today I was called to the home of the Jefferson family, the wife seems to have regressed in age despite maintaining no injury or illness. I shall take further notes on this phenomenon, could it be a manifestation of hysteria? Is this a new disease? Further information must be gathered.” He read and you interrupted

“See? He thinks it’s hysterical!” You cry

“Now let me finish, I’m not done, we’re skipping ahead. Now let me see. Ah, here we are!” Alucard pauses to lick his lips and find where he wants to start reading.

“June 8th 1851, Doctor Advarious’s medical journal, After years of research conducted on those who regress with no illness or deficits I have concluded that there is no significant threat and merely a way for the human brain to process stress and emotions that is irregular to it. Age regression seems to be a safer alternative to other stress responses such as self mutilation.”

Alucard read to you gently and you looked up to him

“Is this supposed to be making me feel better?” You asked and he sighed

“Is it not?” You shook your head ‘no’.

“Okay, let me try this again, I do not find you to be odd, I enjoy this part of you, it’s so innocent and amazing. I think you’re amazing.” He said as he ran his fingers through your hair, and you quickly pull him in to hug him tightly.

“Thank you, Alucard, that does make me feel better.”

#littlespace fanfiction #x little!reader #xlittle!reader #little!reader #alucard tepes imagine #alucard tepes x reader #Alucard Tepes x you #castlevania x reader #castlevania headcanons

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creepypasta-archive · 7 months

Text

Jeff the Killer: Recall

by Mikeyboi1225

Some story i found. Sorry i'm not adding my detailed descriptions as usual i've been running on fumes lately CW// Murder i guess. too long to read rn Click here for the unedited original story

Summary

After a nearly fatal car accident in the dark of night, a mysterious boy wakes up in a hospital with no memory of who he was before. His amnesia isn't the strangest about him: his face is scarred beyond recognition, wounds that didn't come from the accident. Taken in by the driver who hit him, the amnesiac settles into a daily routine. But when his memories begin to slowly return, a darkness begins to stir.

This story was inspired by two songs, one which tells the story of a monster who didn't know how to be anything else, and another where the singer looks upon his past misdeeds and seeks redemption for them. If you aren't fond of redemption stories, I recommend looking for an X Reader. There are plenty to be found. My goal in writing this tale is to take the Creepypasta characters I grew up with and tell a new story all my own. If that's the kind of thing you go for, then you've come to the right place.

If you enjoy the story, be sure to give it a kudo, and let me know what you think in the comments!

Chapter 1: The Accident

Walter Jefferson was tired.

He'd had a long, hard day at work. It was December 11th, and the Oakwood County Post Office was a busy place in the weeks leading up to Christmas. He'd gotten off at 10:30, and he was almost home. As he made the turnoff onto the road that led to his house, his cellphone rang. Glancing at the screen, he saw that his wife Margaret was calling.

"Oh, I'm in for it now," he chuckled to himself. Walter answered the call, putting Margaret on speaker.

"Hi, Maggie," he answered cheerfully.

"Hey, Walter," replied Margaret. Unlike his, her voice was wide awake. "It's almost eleven at night. You haven't been abducted by aliens, have you?"

"As a matter of fact, I have, honey," he replied. "They've got big teeth and antennas, and they're pulling out all kinds of terrible devices. I think they're gonna probe me."

"Right," answered Margaret with a chuckle. "Can you tell them that if my husband isn't home in fifteen minutes, I'll have to blast their flying saucer out of the sky?"

Walter laughed with amusement.

"I'll pass on the message, honey. See you in a bit. I love you."

"I love you too, Walter," Margaret replied with a dramatic smooching noise. "Drive safely."

"I will," answered Walter, and hung up the phone.

"Always so worried about- OH MY GOD!"

Walter slammed his foot down on the breaks with all his weight. Someone was crossing the road. The pedestrian had appeared out of nowhere. Walter swerved to avoid him, but it was too late. The vehicle slammed into the figure like a rhinoceros, sending the body rag-dolling over the top of the car. Walter could hear it thumping as it rolled over the roof.

"Dear Lord," choked Walter as he tore off his seatbelt and scrambled out of the car.

He ran to the lifeless body in the road and rolled it face-up. It was a young man, around sixteen years old. He had on a white hoodie and black dress pants. The clothes were bloodied and battered, and blood oozed from the boy's skull.

Walter's stomach churned. He knelt and checked for a pulse. The boy was still alive! Walter ran to his car and grabbed his phone, frantically dialing 911. The voice on the other end responded quickly.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"My name is Walter Jefferson, and I am at the intersection of Shaw and West! I just hit a guy with my car. He's alive, but he needs an ambulance!"

"Sir, please remain calm and stay on the line. Help is on the way."

"Thank you," answered Walter gratefully.

The young man's eyes fluttered open. He focused on Walter.

"Wha- what happened?" he asked weakly, his voice scarcely a whisper. "Where am I?"

"Oh, God," croaked Walter. "He's awake."

Walter dropped to his knees, taking the boy by the hand.

"I am so sorry," whispered Walter. "You're going to be alright, I promise. Help is on the way."

The young man's eyes lost focus, and he drifted out of consciousness.

Chapter 2: The Ambulance

"Look at me, buddy," said the paramedic as he gave the boy a shot of morphine. "Keep looking at my eyes, okay?"

The young man's eyes kept fluttering. He opened them and focused on the paramedic.

"Who- who are you?" he pleaded, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"My name is Mark. I'm a paramedic, and we're taking you to a hospital. I gave you some morphine to help with the pain. How are you feeling, buddy?"

The patient' s eyes closed.

"Woah, buddy," called Mark, gently slapping the patient's cheek. "Don't do that to me, alright? Just keep looking at my eyes.

"O-okay," slurred the patient.

"Good," replied Mark, smiling. "What's your name?"

The kid looked puzzled.

"I don't- I don't remember," he answered. His brow was furrowed deeply. Suddenly, his eyes grew wider than they already were.

"I can't remember my name! I can't remember anything! Why can't I remember anything?"

The patient tried to sit up, and then cried out in pain. Mark lowered him back onto the stretcher.

"You don't want to do that, buddy," Mark cautioned. "You've got some broken ribs. Just be still and stay calm. Jeffrey, hand me those sedatives. We need to calm him down."

The boy gasped twice, once from pain and once from realization.

"What is it, buddy?" asked Mark as he prepared the sedative shot. "What's the matter?"

"Jeffrey. . . my name. . . I remember. My name is Jeff."

He tried to sit up again, but Mark stopped him.

"Nice to meet you, Jeff. Can you lie still for me, Jeff?"

Jeff nodded his head obediently as Mark injected him in the shoulder with anesthesia.

"Everything's going to be okay, Jeff," said Mark with a soothing tone. "You just go to sleep."

"Uhhnn. . ." Jeff tried to speak, but before he could form the words, he had drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 3: Room 114

"So, he just ran into the street?" the officer asked as he wrote Walter's account of the event down in a notepad.

"Yes," answered Walter, rubbing his hands together nervously. He sat in the waiting room of the Oakwood County Medical Center, telling his story to a policeman. "I didn't even see him until he was twenty feet away. I tried to brake, but it. . ."

Walter shook his head. The situation seemed surreal. Had he actually just struck a teenage boy with his car? It didn't seem possible.

The officer put a consoling hand on Walter' shoulder.

"You did a good job calling 911. Too many folks would have just panicked."

"Walter!"

Walter looked up to see Margaret running to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. He stood up from his seat and embraced her.

"Is everything okay? Are you hurt? What happened? I was so scared, Walter!"

The officer stood, pocketing his notepad.

"I have everything I need for now, Mr. Jefferson. The department will contact you if we need anything else."

The officer turned to go, giving the couple a moment alone. Margaret buried her face in Walter's shoulder, wetting it with her tears. Walter struggled to find the words. He took a deep breath.

"Right after I hung up," he began, letting the momentum of his thoughts carry him along, "a kid - a teenager, I think - ran out in front of me."

"Oh, God," whispered Margaret.

Walter pressed his forehead against her shoulder, holding himself together despite the attempts of every one of his atoms to break down.

"I hit him, Maggie," he whispered into her ear. "I. . . I hit that kid. I don't even know if he's alive or not."

Margaret tightened her grasp on Walter, running a hand up and down his back to comfort him.

"It was an accident, Walter. He'll be okay. I'm certain of it."

Walter sobbed once into her shoulder, and clenched his teeth to keep himself composed.

"There was so much blood on him, Maggie. I-I've never seen so much. His clothes were soaked."

"Shhhhh," whispered Maggie, cradling the back of Walter' s head in her arms.

Just then, a nurse walked over to the waiting area.

"Walter Jefferson?" she asked, reading off her clipboard.

Walter pulled reluctantly away from Maggie, drying his eyes with his shirt collar.

"Yes, that's me," he replied.

"The boy is out of surgery. The doctor would like to see you. Please, follow me."

The nurse turned and walked into the hallway. Walter started after her, but stopped as he felt Maggie's hand on his shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, Walter," she said reassuringly.

"Thanks, Maggie," he gratefully replied with one last look at his wife before following the nurse.

The nurse led Walter down a maze of hallways and doors. At length, she stopped in front of a door, Room 114. The metal "4" appeared to be falling off. Walter prayed that wasn't a bad omen.

"Wait here," ordered the nurse.

She walked off in the direction they had come, leaving Walter standing alone before the door of Room 114. He fidgeted nervously as he waited. Walter glanced into the room to see what he could see. He could just barely see the young man - his victim - lying in the hospital bed. His head was wrapped in gauze, but that wasn't what drew Walter' s attention.

Walter started into the room. He tried to stop himself, but he was in a trance. Step by step by step, he drew closer and closer to the sleeping patient. Soon, he was standing at the head of the hospital bed, looking down at the comatose teenager. The boy slept peacefully. His chest rose and fell with each breath. Walter stared down at the boy's face in horror.

My God, thought Walter.��Did I do this to him?

The boy's face was horrifying. His eye sockets were scarred with gray patches, and his eyelids were mangled so that they appeared to be open. His cheeks were marred with deep gashes that curled upwards from his lips, twisting his face into a hideous, demonic grin.

At that moment, the boy's eyes focused on him.

"Walter Jefferson!"

Chapter 4: Good News, Bad News

"Walter Jefferson?" asked the doctor a second time.

Walter cradled hid chest in his hands. The boy's eyes darted off in another direction, then another. He was asleep. He hadn't looked at Walter at all.

"Yes," Walter replied, breathing heavily. "I'm Walter Jefferson."

"I'm sorry," the doctor apologized, looking at Walter with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Dr. Walton. I examined the patient as soon as they brought him in. There are a few things that you need to know."

Walter cleared his throat and nodded his head.

"Tell me."

"Fortunately," the doctor began, "there were no vital organs damaged in the accident. Now, he's got four broken ribs, a fractured clavicle, and a concussion, but he'll live."

Walter took a deep breath of hope and glanced over his shoulder at the boy.

"That's good. That's great!"

The doctor nodded.

"It is. Less so is my second piece of news."

"Go on," prodded Walter.

"The concussion seems to have caused some damage. According to the paramedics who brought him in and what little I could get him to say, the patient is amnesiac."

The color drained from Walter's face until he was paler than the boy.

"You mean he. . . oh God. . ."

The doctor nodded again.

"Unfortunately, he seems to have forgotten nearly everything about himself. He has no idea who he is or where he's from. We don't even know if he has any family we need to call," explained Dr. Walton. "The only thing we could get out of him was his name."

"What is it?"

"Jeff."

"Just Jeff?"

"He only remembers his first name."

Walter collapsed into a chair next to the hospital bed and put his head in his hands.

"So I took his face and his memories," Walter sobbed.

Dr. Walton cocked an eyebrow.

"What do you mean 'took his face'?"

"The wounds on his face," said Walter. "You can' t exactly miss them."

Dr. Walton cleared his throat.

"Those wounds aren't fresh. They're scars, and they certainly didn't come from the accident."

Walter looked up.

"What?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Those scars are old. He's had them for at least a few years," replied Dr. Walton.

Walter looked back at the face of the sleeping patient.

"Then where did they come from?"

Dr. Walton shrugged dramatically.

"That, along with everything else about him, is something we'd all like to know."

Chapter 5: Waking Up

His mind was blank, totally bereft of the thoughts and details that made up a person. He found himself swimming through a sea of emptiness. The dark, icy waves grasped and tossed, and he fought to keep his head above water.

Up ahead, he saw something floating, like an inner tube. He swam towards it, praying that he wouldn't sink. Three feet from the tube he lunged, but missed. The tube was thrown a little further away by the churning waves. He lunged again. This time, he caught the edge of it.

He clung to the tube for dear life, pressing his face into the side of it. As he did, he noticed a word painted on the side. It was written in rough, scratchy letters that dripped red down the side: Jeff.

His name. The only memory he had left, and the only thing keeping him above the churning sea of despair. He looked down through the hole in the tube's center. He froze.

A hideous face grinned back at him from the water. Its features were twisted into a lopsided, nightmarish smile that went beyond frightening. Its eyes were wider than seemed possible, and edged with dark circles that added a manic hunger to them.

The fiendish face spoke.

"You can't escape me," it said. "I'll find you again. Now, go to sleep- er, I mean, wake up."

Jeff blinked.

"WAKE UP!"

Jeff bolted upright in his hospital bed, breathing heavily and covered in cold sweat. The window was open, letting the sunlight in. His head felt like a blacksmith had been using it for an anvil. He tried to look down at himself, but his head wouldn't move. His neck was in a brace, and his collarbone burned when he tried to move his head.

Must be broken, thought Jeff.

He moved his hand along his chest. There were thick bandages.

Ribs broken as well.

Just then, a nurse came into the room, rolling an IV drip along with her. When she saw Jeff was awake, she smiled warmly and waved.

"Good morning, Jeff," she said with pleasant sweetness. "I'm Nurse Elayna, and I'll be taking care of you."

Jeff found himself looking at Elayna for a long time. She had a headful of curly red hair and deep blue eyes. She was very pretty. Finally, he forced himself to speak.

"Hi, Elayna," he said. "Where am I?"

"You're in the Oakwood County Medical Center. Do you remember what happened?" she asked.

Jeff sighed.

"I don't remember much. My name. I remember bits and pieces of the accident. The headlights. The pain. And the angel."

Nurse Elayna looked puzzled.

"Angel?"

"He was there," assured Jeff. "He was standing behind the driver who hit me when he called 911. He was so tall. He said. . . he said. . ."

Elayna stood by the IV drip expectantly.

"What did the angel say?" she asked encouragingly.

Jeff shrugged, which led to a sigh of pain.

"I don't remember."

Nurse Elayna nodded compassionately.

"That's understandable. You have a concussion. It also seems that, as a result, you have amnesia. You've lost your memory. Well, most if it."

Nurse Elayna exchanged his IV bag and then turned to face him.

"Can I get you anything, Jeff?"

Jeff looked back at Elayna.

"There is one thing," said Jeff quietly. "Could you bring me a mirror?"

Nurse Elayna pursed her lips and looked away.

"The doctor will be in soon," she answered. "He will be able to take care of that for you."

Before Jeff could respond, Nurse Elayna hurried out of the room.

Chapter 6: Breakfast at the Jeffersons'

Margaret was having trouble getting Walter to go back to bed. It was Saturday, the day after the accident, and his Christmas vacation had begun. And he was absolutely miserable.

They had gotten home from the hospital at 3:30 AM, and they had gone straight to bed. Or, at least, Margaret had. Walter had turned on the television and plopped down on the couch. He stared blankly into space, ignoring the TV. At five in the morning, he had finally come to bed. He had slept until seven. He simply couldn't get the boy - Jeff - off his mind.

"He doesn't remember anything," Walter had told her. "He knows nothing about himself. That's on me."

"No, it isn't," Margaret had told him. "You can't blame yourself for an accident. Anyone could have hit that boy. It just happened to be you."

Now, he sat at the kitchen table, staring at the clock. Margaret walked over and sat down next to him.

"Would you like something to eat?" she asked.

Walter shook his head.

"How about some coffee?"

Same response.

"Visiting hours start at eleven," said Walter. "I'd like visit him sometime this week."

He fixed her with a pleading look.

"Will you come with me? I want to talk to him. To Jeff."

"Of course I will," she said, taking his hands in her own. "I am just as worried about that boy as you are. I just want you to stop beating yourself up. Skipping breakfast and depriving yourself of sleep aren't going to help him. You know that, right?"

Walter turned his head to look into her eyes. His own, she saw, were filled with tears. He took a deep breath.

"I know, Maggie," he said. "I'm. . . scared, is all."

"I know you are," she told him, leaning in and kissing his cheek. "I am too. But it's going to work itself out. I know it is."

Walter wiped his eyes and kissed her back.

"What would I do without you?"

"Fall on your face," she answered. "Now sit tight. I'll make you some scrambled eggs and coffee. You're going to eat, understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Walter as Margaret stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Chapter 7: Reflections

Dr. Walton stood outside Room 114, looking in at his patient. The boy called Jeff was awake, staring straight up the ceiling. Not that he much choice, considering the condition of his eyelids.

Poor kid, mused Dr. Walton. Who are you? And what the hell happened to your face?

Dr. Walton pushed the door open the rest of the way and entered.

"Hello, Jeff. I'm here with your eye drops," announced the doctor. He approached Jeff's head and looked down at him with a wide, friendly grin. "How are you feeling?"

Jeff looked up at him and grinned weakly. It was strange, since the gashes in his cheeks made Jeff appear to be grinning already.

"How would you feel if you got pancaked by a station wagon, Doc? Because that's about how I feel."

Dr. Walton laughed encouragingly.

"Given the circumstances, that makes sense." Dr. Walton held up the bottle of eye drops. "How about we take care of those dry eyes, big guy?"

Jeff widened his eyes for Dr. Walton as the latter squeezed a drop of moisturizing fluid onto each eyeball. Jeff's eyelids squeezed together as best they could.

"Isn't it Elayna's job to give me the eye drops?"

"Well, yes," said the doctor. "But I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd check up on you myself."

Dr. Walton pulled a chair over to the head of the bed and took a seat.

"Jeff, what can you recall from the other night? Do you remember anything from before the accident?"

Jeff sighed.

"No. Nothing. I was. . . I was crossing the road. I remember that. I don't remember why, though. Then, I was on the ground. The driver was calling for help. And, I saw the angel."

Dr. Walton nodded his head.

"Elayna told me about that. This angel, what did he look like?"

"It's pretty fuzzy," admitted Jeff. "He was very tall, at least seven feet. He had these huge billowing wings, and glowing eyes that pierced the darkness."

Jeff paused and frowned at the doctor.

"It was a hallucination, wasn't it?"

"That's possible," answered the doctor. "You did hit your head pretty hard. But I've never been one to rule out the metaphysical."

Dr. Walton gestured to Jeff's bandages.

"After all, you survived a head-on collision at forty miles-per-hour. If that isn't divine intervention, I'll turn in my doctorate."

"Maybe," said Jeff absently. His eyes stung, and he moved his eyes around beneath what remained of his eyelids to wet them. "Hey, Doc?"

"Yes, Jeff?"

"There's something I need you to do for me," Jeff told him, "and I won't take no for an answer.

Dr. Walton cocked his head to the side.

"What would that be?"

"I want you to tell me what's wrong with my face."

Dr. Walton frowned.

"What makes you think something's wrong with your face?"

"Drop the act," said Jeff. "I know something isn't right. Elayna wouldn't give me a mirror earlier. Plus, I've been feeling it all morning. It feels wrong. It feels like leather, not skin."

Jeff pointed to his eyes.

"And judging by the lack of any scabbing, I'm assuming that this isn't road rash across my eyes."

Dr. Dalton folded his hands.

"Jeff," he replied frankly, "Legally, I can't tell you no. However, I can warn you. Your current state is fragile. If you get too worked up, you might hurt yourself."

Jeff frowned. Tears began to well up in his eyes.

"That bad, huh?"

"No, Jeff, that's not. . ." Dr. Walton's voice trailed off. He bit his lip.

"Look, Doc," began Jeff. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "I'm scared. I woke up in a strange place. I don't even know who I am. And I certainly don't remember what I look like."

Jeff sniffed. A tear ran down his cheek. He dabbed at it. His fingers ran down along the ridge of the scar there, until they reached his lips. Jeff returned his gaze to the eyes of Dr. Walton.

"I want to know what this ridge I feel beneath my finger is. I want to see why my eyes don't close. I want something. . . a face to put with my own name. Can you understand that?"

Dr. Walton was speechless. Before him on the hospital bed lay his patient, a boy with nothing. He was so vulnerable, and there was only one thing in the world he wanted. But, Dr. Walton was afraid to give it to him.

Who was he to stand in Jeff's way, though? It was his duty to abide by his patients' wishes. With a reluctant sigh, he relinquished his humanity.

"Alright, Jeff," said Dr. Walton. "If that is what you want."

Dr. Walton stepped into the bathroom for a moment. When he returned, he held a plastic hand-mirror. Jeff watched him approach. It was a slow, dutiful march, like an executioner walking to the scaffold. Jeff didn't know whether to feel nervous or excited. He determined that his beating heart was a result of both.

"Here you go," whispered the doctor as he handed Jeff the mirror.

Jeff accepted the mirror from Dr. Walton and held it up before his face.

Jeff gasped at what he saw looking back at him. He had no eyebrows. His eyelids were a tattered, blackened mess that made his eyes appear wide and hungry. The rest of the flesh was white as milk, and as rough as crocodile leather. His cheeks were marred by three-inch gashes that curled up across his face like the tendrils of an evil kraken hiding beneath the surface. The wretched, ruined face seemed to grin malevolently at him from the glass.

"Oh, God," whispered Jeff. ". . . oh God."

His fingertips traveled the length of a scar, then up the bridge of his nose to his forehead. His fingers splayed across his features, and he lowered the mirror.

"Dear God. . ."

Dr. Walton rested his hand on Jeff's shoulder.

"I'll give you a moment alone."

Jeff barely heard his words. They sounded distant, like he had spoken underwater. This had been what Jeff was afraid he would see. The face he had seen in the mirror was the same face that had stared up at through the inner tube, the one from the sea of darkness. The demonic face from his dream had been his own.

Chapter 8: The Waiting Room

"Walter Jefferson, here to visit Jeff. Room 114."

Walter stood with his hands at his sides. The nurse looked up Jeff in the computer.

"Give me just one moment please," said the nurse as she stood and went into the back.

Walter waited awkwardly, drumming his fingers against the countertop. Soon, the nurse was back.

"He's being cleaned up right now," she told him, "but he should be ready in a few minutes. Just have a seat, and someone will come and take you in."

"Thank you," said Walter.

Walter turned away and walked back to the waiting area. He plopped down in a chair next to Margaret and picked up a magazine, which he perused absently.

What will he be like? Will he hate me? Will he blame me for what happened to him?

Walter didn't know what to expect. All he could do was wait and hope for the best.

Just then, a horrible thought occurred to him.

"Maggie?"

"Yes, Walter?" asked Margaret.

"What's going to happen to Jeff?"

Margaret looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What if he has a family? He doesn't remember anything. He won't be able to contact anyone. He'll be all alone."

"Don't worry," urged Margaret, putting a hand on his shoulder. "His family is probably looking for him right now. They'll come for him."

Walter didn't look satisfied.

"But what if he has no family? What if he was already alone? He's at least sixteen or seventeen. What if they just ship him to a foster home until he's eighteen?"

"Walter," whispered Margaret soothingly, "everything is going to be okay."

Walter took a breath.

"I hope you're right."

Just then, a nurse walked over and stood in front of them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson?" she asked.

"That's us," said Walter, standing to his feet.

"Jeff is ready to see you."

Chapter 9: A Chance Meeting

Mark headed into the break room for lunch. He took his sandwich and root beer from the refrigerator and turned to go. As he did so, he nearly collided with a nurse who was coming behind him.

"Sorry!" squeaked Mark, bending over to pick up the paper bag he had knocked out of her hands.

As he handed her the bag, their eyes met. Hers were a gorgeous, vibrant shade of blue. Her locks of bright red hair were just as distracting.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the bag from him.

Mark couldn't tear his eyes off the girl. She cocked her head to the side and grinned.

"Are you in there?" she asked.

"Yes," said Mark, snapping back to reality and clearing his throat. "Sorry. You have. . . very pretty eyes."

The nurse laughed.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," Mark replied. "Hey, wait a moment. Aren't you Elayna Johnson? Jeff's nurse?"

"Yes, I am," she answered. "How did you know?"

Mark's face darkened considerably

"Jeff's the talk of the hospital," answered Mark distastefully. "The amnesiac with the mysterious scars, and all that."

Elayna looked shocked.

"They aren't making fun of him, are they?"

"Not that I know," said Mark. "But I'm no lover of gossip either way. He's just a kid."

Elayna fixed Mark with a curious look.

"You talk as if you know him," she noted.

"I don't, exactly," replied Mark, scratching at his short brown hair. "I was with the team that brought him in, though."

He shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess I feel responsible for him, or something. You should have seen him. Helpless, afraid. You'd probably feel the same way."

Elayna nodded her head.

"I know what you mean. I've been taking care of him all week."

"Oh, yeah?" asked Mark. "How's he doing?"

Elayna frowned.

"Some days are good. Others, not so good. He's very quiet. I don't know if he's thinking, or if he just doesn't have anything to say."

Mark echoed her sad look.

"What does he do all day?"

"He mostly just stares at the ceiling," she said. "Sometimes he'll touch his face. Like he's trying to remember."

She looked at Mark.

"I think he's lonely."

Mark furrowed his brow.

"I might visit him," he said. "I'd like to see if I can't cheer him up."

Elayna smiled from ear to ear.

"I bet he would like that."

Chapter 10: Face to Face

He couldn't get it out of his mind. The image of his face haunted him like a vengeful phantom. His pale and leathery skin, bloodred lips, lidless eyes, and vicious smile stared back at him everywhere he looked.

He was a monster.

No, you're no monster. You're beautiful. Now turn that frown upside-down, dummy!

"Huh?" asked Jeff out loud. He looked around the room for the speaker. No one was there.

Did I imagine that? wondered Jeff. I gotta get out of this hospital bed.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. A nurse poked her inside the room.

"Jeff," she said sweetly, "you have visitors."

Jeff creased his forehead.

"Who?"

The nurse swung the door open and walked inside. Behind her, a man and a woman entered hand-in-hand. The man was in his late thirties with short hair and a clean-shaven face. The woman had long, flowing brown hair and a pleasant, but nervous, smile.

"Jeff," said the nurse, "this is Walter and Margaret Jefferson."

"It's you," said Jeff. "You're the one who hit me."

Walter froze. Margaret squeezed his hand encouragingly. He took a few steps forward. Jeff watched his steady approach unflinchingly.

"Come closer," said Jeff.

Walter knelt by Jeff's bedside, placing his hands on the edge.

"Son," he began, voice cracking, "I. . . I'm sorry. I didn't. . ."

Walter wiped his eyes.

". . . I didn't mean for this to happen. If I could go back, I-"

"Stop."

Walter cut off immediately. He didn't move a muscle. Jeff had spoken so suddenly, Walter's thoughts were scrambled.

Jeff took a deep breath, and grabbed Walter by the wrist.

"Mr. Jefferson," he began, "look at me. What do you see?"

Walter looked at Jeff, unsure of what to say.

"I see a teenage boy," he offered in reply.

Jeff nodded his head.

"And what more than that?"

Walter looked over his shoulder at Margaret. She had one hand over her mouth. Tears were welling up inside her eyes. He looked back to Jeff.

"I don't understand."

Jeff reached up with his free hand and ran a finger along his cheek.

"Yes, you do."

". . . scars," Walter managed.

"Bingo," said Jeff. "Ugly ones. And who knows how I got them? It must have been horrible."

Jeff pulled Walter a little closer.

"Could you live with yourself if you looked the way I do?"

Walter's heart was beating faster. Was Jeff angry with him? Where was he going with this?

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that it's entirely possible I wanted you to hit me," answered Jeff. "What if I stepped in front of you on purpose?"

Walter was speechless.

"It was no one's fault, Mr. Jefferson," continued Jeff.

He let go of Walter's wrist and took him by the hand.

"It just happened. No amount of blubbering on either of our parts is going to change that."

Tears ran down Walters face as Jeff spoke. Jeff hadn't just forgiven him. Jeff had told him that he had dine nothing wrong. Walter couldn't find words to describe how grateful he was. All that he could was squeeze Jeff's hand and cry his tears of joy.

Margaret approached the opposite side of Jeff's bed.

"Jeff, when they release you, how would you like to come and stay with Walter and me for a little while?"

Jeff's blinkless eyes widened.

"You. . . you want me to stay with you? Like. . . at your house?"

"Of course!" replied Walter joyfully. He looked up at his wife, and their eyes met. She winked at him. He smiled back.

"But. . . why?" asked Jeff. "I'm. . . nit exactly good company."

"Nonsense!" argued Margaret. "You're a sweet boy, and we would love to have you around. Besides, it's the least we can do until your real family comes for you."

"My real family. . ." repeated Jeff.

He had thought about them a lot over the past week. He didn't know who they were, or if they even existed. But he had wondered who they might be. He wondered if they were looking for him right now.

"What do you say?" asked Walter.

"I. . . I would love to," said Jeff.

Margaret leaned over and kissed Jeff on his gauze-wrapped forehead.

"We'll come to visit you every day until then," she said.

Jeff yawned, a huge yawn that nearly sit his head in two.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm. . . very tired all of a sudden. . ."

The nurse stepped forward.

"I think we should let him rest."

"Of course," said Walter, letting go of Jeff's hand. "Go to sleep, Jeff. We'll be back tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," mumbled Jeff as he began to drift off.

Margaret and Walter turned to follow the nurse out into the hall.

"Mrs. Jefferson?"

Margaret turned to look back into the room.

"Yes, Jeff?"

"Didn't the nurse say your name was Margaret?"

"Yes," she said. "Margaret Katherine Jefferson. Why do you ask?"

A headache nagged behind Jeff's eye, and he put his hand to his temple reflexively.

"I. . . I think I knew someone named Margaret. Someone close to me."

Chapter 11: Interesting Developments

"Erika Langford, twenty-two years old. Cut up in the middle of the night."

Agent Vince Brewer stood over the body of the victim, hands tucked away in the pockets of his suit coat. He regarded the crime scene with a somber expression. He had seen hundreds like it before, but it never got any easier. Still, not everyone had what it took to do his job.

He gestured to the sheets, which had been ripped from the bed, and an overturned lamp.

"There was a struggle," he noted. "She was awake when it happened."

"We guessed that, too," replied the officer in charge of the crime scene. "The killer came in, probably startled her awake, struggled with her, then shoved a knife in her gut. Slashed her face a little bit for good measure, too."

"It sounds to me like you guys have this under control," replied Agent Brewer with some annoyance. "Why contact the Bureau?"

"There's the kicker," replied the officer. "Right this way."

The officer led Agent Brewer across the room, careful to avoid disturbing the crime scene. Agent Brewer was just as careful. The officer stopped, gesturing to the window.

"This is how our killer got in."

The window was open, and the curtains were drawn. Bloody handprints lined the fabric. A few were plastered across the windowsill, revealing that the window had served as an exit as well as an entrance.

Agent Brewer's eyes were wide with surprise. He clenched his jaw and turned and stormed out of the room, taking long and deliberate strides. The officer hurried to keep up with him.

"There's more!" he called.

Agent Brewer ignored him and continued. He marched out through the front door, down the porch steps, and around the house. He didn't stop until he could see the window from the outside. The moment it came into view, something else did. It was difficult to see in the dying sunlight, but it was there.

Agent Brewer had taken down many a serial killer in his career with the FBI. One thing he had learned was that, to some of them, it was a game. They loved to play the game, and they loved to be recognized for playing. They lived for the coverage their dark craft received, for the names the media gave them. So, to facilitate this, some killers left behind a calling card. Agent Brewer had seen this particular calling card many times over the past three years.

The officer ran up alongside Agent Brewer and stopped to catch his breath.

"Now you know why we got ahold of the Bureau."

Agent Brewer clenched his fists as he approached the side of the house. The walls were painted white. There was no missing the message scrawled beneath the window. It was written in bright red letters. The medium had dripped, leaving long run lines beneath each letter.

"What is that written in?" asked Agent Brewer, hoping against hope that he was wrong.

"What do you think?" retorted the officer.

The message was simple. There were three words and nine letters in all, and each letter was capitalized.

GO TO SLEEP.

Agent Brewer closed his eyes. He felt like someone had punched him right between the eyes.

"That's it, ain't it?" asked the officer. "That's the Grin's handiwork, right?"

Agent Brewer opened his mouth to respond when something moved out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look. It had been a momentary flicker of movement.

"Did you see that?" asked Agent Brewer.

"See what?" asked the officer. "All I see is some bloody graffiti and an open window."

Agent Brewer looked down at his feet. He noticed that his shadow had lengthened considerably as the sunk sank. His hat had almost reached the top of the house.

Agent Brewer wasn't wearing a hat.

"I need a moment alone," said Agent Brewer, turning to face the officer."

The officer furrowed his brow, but nodded. He didn't feel like arguing with a Fed today.

"Suit yourself, agent," muttered the officer as he turned to go. "See you back inside when you're ready."

"Thank you," said Agent Brewer, who returned his attention to his shadow once the officer was out of sight.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

His shadow seemed to lean forward from the wall. It shrank, contorted, and lost all shape, like a two-dimensional cloud of smoke on the wall. Soon, it was no taller than the agent, and it began to take human form once more: flowing trench coat, wide-brimmed fedora, and a walking cane held in the right hand. Two miniscule spheres of red light gazed out at Agent Brewer from where the figure's eyes should have been. It was a living shadow, standing there against the wall before him.

The shadow man replied with a deep, gravelly voice that seemed to echo from every surface, even the ones in Agent Brewer's mind.

"I came to check up on you," replied the shadow. "You are busy?"

"Am now," answered Brewer, waving his hand at the bloody message.

The shadow studied the message for a moment.

"Hmmm," it mused thoughtfully. "The Grin. A dangerous killer. Certainly not someone you want running around free."

"Don't give me that," scoffed Agent Brewer. "You probably know who he is already. You've just been holding out on me for three years."

"Perhaps, and perhaps not," whispered the shadow. "I keep many secrets."

"So why are you here?" asked Agent Brewer, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I come bearing a gift."

The shadow stepped forward, away from the wall, now taking up three dimensions. The shadow man held something out towards Brewer. It was something sealed in plastic. Brewer stepped forward to get a better look.

It was a blood-spattered kitchen knife.

"The murder weapon," explained the shadow, "used to kill Erika Langford."

Agent Brewer reached out, accepting the sealed knife from the shadow man. He held it up to the dying light, studying the blade. It was covered in scraped marks, beaten, battered, and bloodied.

"Where the hell did you find this?" he asked.

"One gift at a time," replied the shadow, holding up an ebony finger and wagging it back and forth. "It should suffice to say that something has happened on my side. There's been an interesting development. I'm curious to see how it will play out."

The shadow man turned his back to Agent Brewer. He began to melt back into the agent's shadow, silently and swiftly.

"What about the Grin?" called Agent Brewer.

The figure was gone, but one final reply came whispering from within the shadows.

"Look for him."

Chapter 12: Merry Christmas, Happy New Life

Notes:

Salutations, my lovely readers! This chapter is long overdue, but now that I have finished my education I think can get on a regular schedule.

You can expect updates on Jeff the Killer: Recall every Friday evening, the good Lord willing. As for my other works, I will be updating them as time allows. I have many original projects in the works, as well as a potentially big opportunity on the way.

Eyes up. The Mysterious Realm is unforgiving!

Margaret.

He tossed and turned in the bed, eyes darting back and forth beneath his mangled eyelids. His pale, slender fingers grasped at sweat-soaked sheets. His feet kicked at some unseen foe, something watching him from the darkness.

Jeff's dreams were getting worse.

Margaret.

In a realm beyond this one, Jeff sat on a cold floor, knees drawn against his chest. His lips trembled as he whispered the word over and over.

Margaret. Who was she?

He ran his fingers through his wild hair. They came back wet with sweat. Jeff clenched his fists, searching desperately for memories that weren't there.

Who was Margaret?

"Who cares?"

Jeff jumped to his feet. The new voice was familiar, unpleasant, and it startled him.

"H-hello?"

"Hello."

Jeff spun around, throwing up his hands to protect himself. The voice had come from behind.

"Wh-who's there?" Jeff demanded.

From the darkness, a shape began to manifest. It was horrible, a beastly silhouette. Its crimson eyes glared hungrily at Jeff from the shadows.

"We are. No one else."

Jeff trembled. The creature's eyes demanded his attention; he couldn't look away, though he tried.

"Who are you?" Jeff croaked.

The silhouette seemed to slither through the darkness, eyes never blinking, never straying. It inched forward, little by little, until those horrible eyes were just in front of Jeff's.

"How could you forget me?" the shape asked. There was almost genuine hurt in its voice, as though it was sad that Jeff didn't recognize it.

Suddenly, Jeff found himself seized in an icy, crushing grasp. Frigid tendrils of shadow wrapped around his body, pinning his arms helplessly to his sides. He struggled, but it was moot. Wicked glee glinted in the crimson eyes of the beast as the shadows of its face began to swirl and pull aside. Within, a new face peered back. Jeff gasped.

"Beautiful, aren't I?" it asked.

Jeff squeezed his eyes shut. His mangled eyelids did nothing to conceal the horror that now held him in its clutches. He screamed, a scream that went beyond the dream.

Then, he was sitting upright in bed, chilled sweat dribbling down his sides and neck. His hands trembled at his sides. He raised them before his face, flexing his fingers to make the shaking stop.

He had been having the same dream for a while now. His mind went back to Christmas Day. The Jeffersons had been there. Mark and Elayna had been there, too. Even Dr. Walton had stopped by. All of them had gotten him gifts.

"Oh, geez. . ." Jeff had muttered, sinking lower onto the hospital bed. "I wish you hadn't."

"Nonsense," Margaret had said with a wave of her hand. "Now get to opening."

Walter and Margaret had gotten Jeff a long, insulated leather jacket that went down well past the knees.

"To keep you warm when you finally go outside," said Margaret.

"And look here," said Walter, pointing to the chest. "It comes with a reflector. Now you can cross the street at night."

Jeff was silent for a moment.

"I love it," he said at last, running his hands over the leather. He enjoyed the way it felt. "Thank you both."

"My turn," said Elayna, presenting Jeff with a box wrapped in snowmen and reindeer. Inside was a portable CD-player, complete with headphones and a few CDs ready to go.

"I know how much you like music," she told him. "Now you can listen as often as you want."

Jeff looked through the CDs. They were all groups Elayna had introduced him to, that he loved to listen to: Linkin Park, Skillet, and more.

"Thank you so much," said Jeff, hugging Elayna around the neck.

"Anything for my little work brother," she replied with a giggle, hugging him back.

"You've still got one more," said Mark. He plopped a very small box down on the bed in Jeff's lap. The box was about the size of a TV remote. It was wrapped in simple red paper, with a little green bow holding it shut.

"What is it?" asked Jeff, turning it over in his hands.

"Only one way to find out," replied Mark, smirking and crossing his arms.

Carefully, Jeff slipped a finger under the edges of the tape, pulling it away little by little.

"Oh come on, we're not saving the paper," protested Mark. "Open it up!"

Jeff caved and ripped the paper away with a flick of his wrist. His mouth fell open. His voicebox cracked in two. Words tried to form on the tip of his tongue, but something powerful kept them at bay.

The present was a little box, bound in a faux leather material and hinged in the back. With trembling fingers, Jeff opened the box. Inside, his expectations were fulfilled tenfold. There rested a pair of sunglasses, with firm black plastic temples and thick dark lenses.

"I. . . I. . ."

"Look, I'm not saying you need them," stammered Mark, "just that, you know, with the sun, and with your eyes, and with the drops-"

Jeff's arms were around Mark before he could stammer out another syllable, his face buried deep in his friend's shirt.

". . . thank you," was all Jeff could croak through the raging torrent of feelings that swept over him. Mark put an arm around Jeff's shoulder in turn.

"You're welcome, little buddy."

Jeff pulled away from his friend's embrace, turning his eyes upon the room. Within the four light blue walls of the hospital room were the only five people in the world Jeff knew. They cared for him, and he for them. Warmth. Peace. Gratitude. Companionship Belonging. They all seemed to surge within him simultaneously.

No!

Jeff jolted, arcing his back and grabbing at his temple.

"Wh-what?" he mumbled aloud.

"You okay, buddy?" asked Mark, reaching out. Jeff's vision swirled. He saw Mark's face, Mark's stupid face, giving him that coddling look. Why, he ought to reach out and grab Mark by his skinny little neck. . .

A wave of shame and horror shot through Jeff like an electrified bullet. Those thoughts were evil, twisted and monstrous. They couldn't have been his. At least, he didn't want them to be his.

"I. . ." Jeff struggled. He could feel his eyes shaking in his sockets. Darkness was coming.

"Easy there," said Dr. Walton, hurrying over. "He's just exhausted. Give him some space, Mark."

Jeff had felt cold hands as they took him by the wrist, and colder hands as they took him by the mind.

That had been Christmas. For the first time he could remember, Jeff had known joy. Something had taken that joy from him.

Jeff seized the pocket mirror from his nightstand, staring intently into the crystal glass. His twisted reflection looked back at him. He bit his lip timidly. He hoped, he prayed, that a dream was all it had been.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #jtk #fanfiction #horror #story

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