#he cries over the first card you and annie make him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justsomerandomfanfic · 10 months ago

Text

Brilliant - Scott Lang X Female (Daughter) Reader

Title: Brilliant

Scott Lang X Female (Daughter) Reader

Additional Characters: Natasha, Steve, Bruce, Wanda (Mentioned), Thor, Hope, Cassie (Mentioned), Hank Pym (Mentioned), and Tony Stark

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 2,893

Warnings: Reader has a huge love for ants, ants facts, Tony being Tony, alcohol mentioned, Reader's super smart, Reader's mentioned to be a kid in homeschooled college, slight family angst, brief mention of Reader punching a kid, sarcastic reader, banter, and family fluff

The best word to describe your life was 'chaos.' Chaos was your life. But not for a while, in the beginning, your mother and father; Hope and Scott, said that you were a good baby and toddler. Yes, you cried and threw some tantrums like any other child would, but it wasn't until you were around six that Hope and Scott realized how very similar you were to your grandfather, Hank Pym. It started off small, noticing a few things here and there, but it wasn't until your seventh birthday that they both knew that you were going to be just like Hank.

Looking back, it was a bright, sunny day. It was warm out, not too cold and not too warm; perfect weather for a birthday. Your first-grade friends were playing in the backyard, swinging on your swingset, and some playing tag with each other, but you were nowhere to be found.

Scott had panicked slightly when he checked around the backyard, while also trying to entertain three kids with a magic card trick. His eyes filtered around the backyard, until he spotted you, in the corner, staring at the ground. Scott found it a bit odd, thinking that you were just a bit shy and didn't want to play with your class friends... So he let it slip his mind.

But, Scott knew something was up once you blew your candles out.

"Good job, honey! What did you wish for?" Hope, your mother asked, as you just started at the cake before you.

"I want an ant farm."

From then on, it seemed like your ant fascination skyrocketed. It became such a big part of your daily routine that Hope and Scott weren't sure what to do with you anymore. It was literally taking over most of your life as the years went on. You began only wanting things that were related to ants. Posters, books, an actual ant farm, and more. You had even started up a lemonade stand to get money to buy more books about ants. Hope and Scott thought it was cute that you were making lemonade for the people of New York who would occasionally walk by the house; Hope thought that it was a great experience to help you in the future with any jobs you might get.

However, Hope and Scott began to notice that instead of getting regular kids' books about facts on ants, like 'Ten Fun Facts about Ants,' or ‘Annie and her Friend Ant,' you were going to bookstores, and leaving with 'Ants of North America; A Guide to the Genera,' and 'Identification Guide to the Ant Genera of the World.' Along with you, at the age of six and seven, reading college-level books and novels, you had become mighty close with your grandfather Hank.

You obviously loved spending time with him, since he would tell you about ants and the history and evolution of the world. That didn't stop you from getting lost every single day; that and the fact that you liked to pretend you were an explorer and explore new places, sometimes even in Central Park; hoping you could one day find a new ant species.

At the age of ten, you had become a spitting image, personality-wise, of your grandfather. You were as witty and sarcastic as you were incredibly wise beyond your years. Incredibly wise to the point that Hope and Scott thought it was best to take you out of grade school and set you up with college classes at home, where Hope could teach you. And it was totally not also because you punched a kid in the face after he said that Ant-Man was the worst Avenger.

Along with your new college schedule at home - where you learn about geology, calculus, quantum mechanics, and so on - you did end up with a lot of free time, which allowed you to go to "work" with your father. Which was where you had met most, if not all, of the Avengers.

~~~

Scott held your hand as you went up and up in the Stark Tower elevator. He let out a big sigh, becoming a bit nervous, as he glanced down at you. "You're going to behave, right?"

You simply looked up at him, one of your favorite ant books in your free hand. "Of course. Why wouldn't I behave?" You asked, sarcasm lacing your words, before looking back at the book.

"Yeah, well, I just don't want you to bombard them with ant facts," Scott responded, before shaking his head slightly and looking forward again.

"That will be inevitable, Dad," You replied, looking forward as well, "I can't just not speak about the things that I enjoy in life. Ants bring me such joy that is beyond words, and I want everyone to know about my passions."

"Well... I guess just don't go overboard then," The elevator doors began to open, "I do love that you have something that makes you happy but I don't want you to tire them out. We have to make a good impression on them. You know I haven't met some of them yet - out of the battlefield, I mean." Scott spoke, letting out a sigh.

"You have to try and make a good impression. I don't have to try, I'm always going to succeed." You replied, before stepping off the lift and walking towards the common room, with Scott trailing behind you.

As you entered the common room, about seven sets of eyes landed on you. Some in shock, or so on, before they trailed up to see Scott.

"Hey, guys! Uh, this is my daughter. Y/N, say hello!"

"Say hello." You replied with a short roll of your eyes before you walked over to the first nearby person. Offering your hand with great conviction, "My name is Y/N Lang, I prefer Y/N Pym, but please, call me Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you." At your words, Scott felt his heart fall to the pit of his stomach. It was nice that you were indeed so close to your grandfather, but for a long time, Scott had felt a strain on his and your relationship for the longest time.

The redhead blinked, slightly shocked before shaking your hand with a smile, "Pleasures all mine, Y/N. My name is Natasha, but you may call me Nat."

"That sounds satisfactory. Did you know that there are over twenty-thousand different types of species of ants in the world?" You asked as Natasha dropped your hand, staring up at her expectedly.

Natasha's eyes widened slightly as she shook her head, "No, I didn't know that. But that sounds fascinating."

“Wow,” Bruce spoke up, “She’s just like Pym.”

"It obviously is. Now, if you'll excuse me." You replied before moving along to the next person. Staring up at the man, you offered your hand, "I'm Y/N. But you must have already known that. Since you are around fifty-seven inches away from Ms. Nat. So, I believe that I do not have to repeat myself. Did you know that ants do not have ears?"

Steve gave you a small smile, shaking his head, "It's nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Steve. Uh, and I did not know that. That's very cool."

And so, you went along, speaking to Bruce, then to Wanda, and then to Thor.

And then he came in.

"Hey! Thumbelina! Didn't know you were visiting." Tony walked in, pausing once his eyes landed on you, "And you brought your kid, that's fun." He spoke, walking over and offering you his hand. "Hey there, kid, I'm Tony. You may know me for my amazing persona as Iron Man. You know, saving the world and all."

You just stared up at him, glancing at his hand with a frown, "You can never trust a Stark."

Letting out a laugh, Tony withdrew his hand, gesturing to you as he looked at Scott. "Well, Lang, your daughter's a smart kid alright."

"Yes, she is. Very smart." Scott chuckled, placing his hands on your shoulders before you swerved out of his grasp, glaring quick daggers at him before you turned your gaze back at Tony.

"That is correct. I am rather intelligent. But, it is only my grandfather and I that are intelligent." You remarked, giving Tony a slight smirk.

Tony laughed, "You're mighty sure of yourself there, aren't you? I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I have my own millionaire business, created my own suits, and am the lead Avenger. I am rather smart too."

"So you tell me, Mr. Stark. Are you sure you're worthy of that title? As lead Avenger, I mean." You asked sarcastically.

"Of course," Tony answered with no hesitation. "If anyone is deserving of being called leader of anything, it's me."

With a small snort, you folded your arms across your chest, nodding. Setting down your ant book on the coffee table beside you - with that, Scott knew you meant business - staring up at the man. "After all, when I can watch the news when I am not studying, by my previous calculations, you only pull twenty-two percent of your weight in most of your battles in the past seven years. That puts you closer to the bottom than any other Avenger."

"So," Tony retorted quickly, a grin still on his face, "You're what? Nine? How would you be able to make those calculations?"

"I have a photographic memory." You answered, "I've remembered everything I've read and seen ever since I was four."

"Well," Tony began, crossing his arms, "Who would you recommend should be the leader then?"

"Me." You answered, "If not myself, then my grandfather. Since we are incredibly intelligent, and no one's smarter than us. We could easily plan out an entire takedown for whatever crisis hits New York next."

There was silence between you as you waited for the man to respond. Tony then took a breath, "Well, Scott, you have a truly impressive kid here. She has quite a sharp tongue." He paused, looking back down at you. "You do remind me of Pym. Same brains and smarts. Same little attitude." He chuckled lightly, turning towards you.

For a moment, you just stood in place. "I don't have an attitude, I have knowledge, and that knowledge is based on science, math, and ants." You began, staring up at Tony Stark as your father winced for the oncoming storm, "And about your prior comments about how smart I am. If you think I'm going to spend seven months learning Yale and Harvard level material just so you could tell me how smart I am, then you are sadly mistaken." You retorted, unfolding your arms from over your chest and narrowing your eyes. "I don't need you to tell me I'm smart. I know I am."

"Well," Tony began, a satisfied grin on his face, "Lang, your child is brilliant. I don't really care much for some children, but she's alright." He then gestured to the bar behind him, "Just don't let her near my lab or the drinks. She could cause chaos." He looked back down at you, "It was fun meeting you, kid." And with that, Tony left the room, but not before stopping by the said bar for a quick drink.

"Y/N, I told you to behave... Not- Not challenge Tony." Scott looked down at you as you grabbed your book.

"I think she was amazing." Natasha spoke, her back leaning against the cushions of the couch, "She stood up for herself and put Tony in his place. Maybe even hurt his ego a bit."

"I agree with Nat," Thor said, "Little Lady Y/N handled herself well."

The rest of the Avengers nodded along with their friend. And Scott let out a small sigh, "Well, I have to file some of that paperwork for Fury real quick. Are you guys alright with watching her?"

"Absolutely, Scott." Steve spoke with a grin, "She can tell us all about ants."

With those words said, you grin brightly, looking up at Captain America, "Finally, someone who understands me and lets me talk."

Scott frowned before watching you speak so openly and animatedly with his coworkers before leaving for work. Scott wanted to be closer to you, but ever since you were six, it felt like there was a strain. A tension. One he couldn't break through with his easygoing personality and easygoing attitude. It was hard to try and get close to you. You seemed so far away, always talking about ants - which he too, liked - or talked about Hank.

Scott felt like he wasn't important in your life to you. You openly showed your love for your mother, and for Hank, and Cassie. But for Scott, you hardly hugged him, barely acknowledged his presence when he was present, and never smiled at him when he entered the house after coming home from work. For years, he had dreamed of coming home from work and his children running up to him and hugging him. But when Peanut, or Cassie, would run into his arms, you would not. He loved you, and Scott knew that you must have loved him.

After an hour, Scott found himself back in the elevator, going back up to grab you and head home to make dinner. It had been a long day, and he just wanted to go home. As the elevator doors opened, he thought he'd find you as he left you; animatedly talking about your favorite interests and ants. Though, when the elevator doors opened, he was surprised at how happy you seemed to be. You had all the Avengers in the room - Steve, Natasha, Wanda, Bruce, and Thor - all walking in a line, all holding random objects in their hands as they walked around the large room, following each other… Like ants. You stood on top of the coffee table, commanding the five of them around, similarly how an ant would.

"Alright, honey, let's get home. I have to make dinner tonight." Scott spoke, walking over to you and helping you jump off the table. “We could watch ‘A Bug’s Life,’ huh?”

"Fine, but I want to come back. I am not done commanding my new ant army." You replied before turning to the five Avengers, "Thank you for playing with me."

As the Avengers began to say their goodbyes to you and your father, you took your book in one hand and his in the other, walking to the elevator. Once in, you dropped your hands from his, making him frown slightly but he shaky grinned down at you as he spoke. "I hope you had fun."

Looking up at him, you gave him a deadpanned look, “It was horrible, Dad. I hated it.” At his shocked look, you scoffed, "Of course, it was fun." You answered, "It was... Nice to have someone play with me."

Scott found himself nodding, "I, uh, I'm sorry I don't spend as much time with you. I wish I could. But I understand that I'm probably not the funniest dad or person to be around."

"It's not that you're not fun, Dad." You spoke, looking up at him, "I just like to spend my time with people who understand ants and in turn, me. Like grandpa."

Scott blinked, "Oh..." He trailed. "You- I- I know I don't take too much time into your interest, but I want to try. For you. I do like ants. It just can be… Tiring to hear so much about ants all the time." He then let out a sigh as the elevator doors opened and the two of you walked out, "I feel like there's some kind of strain between us."

Pausing, you stopped at the large glass doors of the Stark Tower, looking up at your father, you spoke, "I do wish you would listen to me sometimes. Hear my facts, take interest. But, I can understand that for some people, I can be a bit overwhelming with my overflowing facts. So, if I ever go overboard, you can tell me." You spoke, "It won't hurt my feelings if you tell me that I am overwhelming you with information. I can understand. I know that some people, unlike myself and grandpa, can only handle so much about ants. I would like to spend more time with you, Dad. And I do enjoy the time I do get to spend with you, Cassie, and Mom. I truly love you all. But, as I am going to learn how to manage how much I speak about ants in particular, I would like to advise that you take time to better yourself as well." You finished, turning to head out the door.

"Better myself?" Scott spoke, though unable to stop smiling at your words, "What do you suggest I better myself on?" He was finally getting somewhere.

As you stood outside of the tower, looking out at the city and the people around you, you reached up and took your father's hand before speaking, "Your magic tricks, Dad. You've been doing the same four for months. I have already memorized them. You need more material."

Scoot could only laugh, his heart swelling as the two of you walked home, "Brilliant. Okay, yeah, I can do that."

---

Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

#cute #fluff #slight angst #x y/n #x you #x female reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #request #anon request #requested #marvel #mcu #scott lang #scott lang x daughter reader #x daughter reader #ant man

26 notes · View notes

dorn-queen-of-thorns · 1 year ago

Text

" Our future signed in letter"

2nd Chapter

On Paradise:

"And you received a mail from him again?" Armin looks at her with interest. A knowing smile plays around his lips, which Mikasa knew from him before. Mikasa has poured the tea for both of them and there is a cup of steaming tea for each in front of them on her small table. In addition, this morning she has taken the time to bake a strawberry cake and put a generous piece of cake for everyone on the table with a dollop of cream.

Armin is aware that the letters from her former captain save Mikasa from her sad everyday life. He still remembers how desperate and hurt she was. That Levi, the only one who didn't come back to visit her and Eren's grave. She blamed herself for leaving him and everyone else without words despite being in shock. Mikasa cried herself to him in a quiet moment and told about her dream of Eren before she decided to kill him and put an end to the horror. Annie was also there. She told Armin, that Eren had a lot of similarities to Levi in her dream and in between she didn't know which of the two was standing in front of her. Mikasa talked about the words “Stay with me!” And it was the first time that her former captain had told her very clearly what he wanted and felt for her. Armin had encouraged her and advised to contact him if she felt that way. At that time she could not lose much, only win. The second occurred and a loving pen friendship developed between them. And now she regularly talks about her contact with him and he is happy for her to see her smile again and sees her dreamy look when she talks about the letters and also shows her one or the other letter and then asks him for advice, what the captain might have meant by one or the other remark. He even wrote her a song once that he sang with his former friends. " So ist es immer ", Armin remembers and he interprets it as a love song and Mikasa didn't understand what he was trying to say to her and Levi offered her to sing it together in a quiet hour. Mikasa is definitely not stupid. On the contrary, in combat missions, she has often proven her strategic knowledge again and again, as in the battle of Trost. But when it comes to interpersonal things for herself, she is naive or just doesn't want to have many things true.

The scent of tea and Mikasa's baked cake fills the room. Meanwhile, she plays with Jonathan, who is sitting on her lap. The little boy has a close bond with his "aunt" Mikasa and she looks after him from time to time when Armin and Annie are on their way to the doctor or to be able to be by themselves for a short time, making it the second child soon to be born, both are happy about every short togetherness and Mikasa is happy to be able to spend time with the three old child . The little boy plays with Eren's scarf and Mikasa even allows him to cuddle with the scarf when he takes an afternoon nap. As if Jonathan knows that a third person is missing between them.

At times like these, she wonders if Eren was still alive and if they were both parents too. She will never get an answer to this question, and at the time she felt jealous whenever Eren was with Historia. "Mikasa, is everything okay?", Armin looks at her worried. She now notices that her eyes have got wet and is about to cry again. She quickly wipes away the tears with her sleeve and goes to the cupboard by the small kitchenette to avoid Armin's gaze. “It's okay, Armin”, she takes a deep breath, “it's just that when I see you and your little family, I always think of Eren and wonder how everything would have developed if he were still alive."

Lost in thought, she keeps the little card that was in the package from this morning and left it outside as a reminder so that she can ask Armin for advice. "

“Mikasa, he would have wanted you to start over. And he never wanted you to mourn unhappy after him for a lifetime ”, she feels Armin's gaze on her back. “Maybe”, she sighs and pours Jonathan a warm mug of milk with honey, “here little man!” And gives the boy the warm milk. The little boy is the image of Armin and Annie with golden blonde hair and Annie's light blue eyes, which sometimes take on the bored, but also dreamy look of his mother, but with Mikasa the boy always shines. "Thanks aunti !" He says shyly. Mikasa replies with a pat on the head. Then she turns back to Armin, reads the little card that was attached to the tea box and gives Armin the short letter.

"White Beauty ..." she reads out and she hears her best friend choking on the hot tea and having a coughing fit. She immediately goes to him worried and pats him on the back. After Armin has gradually calmed down, he looks at her with wide eyes. He realizes that the name on the card is Mikasa. Only she is apparently not aware of it or does not want it to be true. Mikasa has the habit of not wanting any rapprochement or chance with the opposite sex. He realizes that it's a subtle, silent declaration of love to her, and it's not the first time he's had this impression. A few months earlier, she had received a type of tea called "lovely Herbs" from her former captain and then the song... Armin would like his childhood friend has the courage to visit her former captain in London. More than ever, especially given the political situation Paradis is getting political rumors and he wants her to be safe. As a precaution, he contacted Onyankopon yesterday afternoon and he should be on his way to see her. That is also the reason for his visit and hopes that Mikasa does not react stubbornly. Mikasa pushes the letter to him . He reads the name L. Ackermann in neat block letters at the end of the letter, recognizing the neat, unadorned handwriting.

"Armin, what do you think? Should I simply address him by name in the next letter? Or do I get something wrong? ", Mikasa has sat down by her friend again. Armin takes her delicate hands, she looks at him expectantly. Armin looks for the right words and decides to speak to her directly to avoid any misunderstandings." Mikasa, he wants to see you ! "he observes her reaction. She replies by trying to cover up his remark," what do you mean Armin? How should I write back to him? "

"Mikasa, do you understand me?", He notices from her reaction that she understood him very well. She pulls her scarf over her face to hide her red cheeks from shame. “How about Armin? Should I leave everything here? That doesn't work! ”, Her eyes are wet again. Armin is still holding her hands, “why not, Mikasa? You also deserve some luck. And after you rejected Jean three years ago, I first thought you needed more time and apparently Jean wasn't the one you needed. But you seem to trust the captain ... "

"But not like that !!!", Mikasa gets quick, feels caught thinking about him and in the end only got the confirmation from Armin. Even the scarf can't even hide the blush on her face. But she calms down quickly, especially since she doesn't want to scare Armin's son. She is holding her hands in front of her face. On the one hand to hide her redness, but also to hide her tears, "I can't leave everything here and I'm also afraid ..." Armin looks at his friend sensitively, "Mikasa, you are the very last one who must be afraid of him. “ It was already clear to him then that Mikasa was the weak point of their mutual superior and that he had always treated her differently from everyone else. He had never yelled at her or snapped at her. She was never kicked like he usually did with Eren or Jean, mostly Mikasa was the reason for it. He even often gave her useful advice and that she always had to act carefully and deliberately in missions. Everyone had a lot of respect for the captain. The only ones who weren't afraid of him were Erwin and Hanji first of all, but also Mikasa. Armin had always been amazed by this curiosity and over time everything makes more and more sense. Even Hanji mentioned it in Armin's presence and the former captain had therefore always worked closely with Mikasa to keep a watchful eye on her and probably to be around her.

“What about you and your family? My life here, which I'm trying to build for myself here? "Mikasa notices Armin's impatience and now also notices worry in his voice," which life? There's just a damn cold stone waiting for you here !!! ” he slips out, which he immediately regrets. Mikasa looks at him with big eyes, "Armin, what are you hiding from me?"

Armin looks at her with wide eyes. This time he's the one fighting back his tears. Mikasa understands him. She sends Jonathan to her room and gives him one of the few picture books to look at so that he is not there during the conversation. She doesn't want the little one to notice his father's concern, "Did you hear about the political rumors ?" He starts to talk.

Mikasa nods to him, she has heard one or two conversations on the market square and lately she has had the uneasy feeling that people are talking about her behind closed doors. Armin continues without further ado, “The Jaegerists are planning a coup and the Queen has been taken out of the country. I contacted Onyankopon yesterday and asked to move you out of here. He will come to pick you up tomorrow ... " Mikasa interrupts him angrily," that is not possible! You can't just decide over my head like that. And where should I go? About the captain? What if he sends me away?” The thoughts roll over in her head.

Armin looks at her seriously, “Mikasa, you have no other option here. The Jaegerists will pursue you and want to execute you for Eren's head. Levi won't send you back. Don't be so scared, besides that, you seem to like him too. Probably more than you'd like to admit. In addition, the captain would never forgive me for leaving you to the Jaegerists! ” Finally, Mikasa slowly understands and no longer gives in to her stubbornness,“ When does it start, Armin? ”She looks sadly to the side, assuming their last meeting together for the time being to have had. “Tomorrow morning, early in the morning, Onyankopon will come for you. Annie is leaving Paradis with Jonathan at noon tomorrow and will travel to her father in Marley and I'll be leaving Paradis in two days. I still have some preparations to do tomorrow evening. We all don't have much time left… There's cash here and I took the liberty of transferring your entire pension to an anonymous account in London, ”Armin slides an envelope over to her.

In the past, Armin and Mikasa decided to use each other as guardians in the event of an emergency, which apparently has now come, “ take your passport with you. The London bank will require you to provide proof that you are the legal owner of this account. Fortunately, your appearance hasn't changed much with your passport photo. You should still trim your hair a bit to match your appearance in the photo, so you should be able to access your account without any problems. Your frugal lifestyle and high pension have saved you a lot of money and you should be able to use it for a long time. If you don't act stupid and risky, you don't have to worry about your finances until the end of your life, "Mikasa only gets by on the sidelines. The topic of money is too unimportant to her, given that she has to leave her home, Armin and his family.

Armin didn't stay long then. “Mikasa, I have to go now. I still have a few things to do before I can go, and you need to make some preparations as well. Make sure you match your hair to your picture before you go to the London bank. It doesn't have to be today, but in the near future. And you should bring enough clothes with you. Clothes are expensive and you should save the money and spend it on more important things. "

Mikasa has to grin when he says: "Armin, I'm not a little child anymore and you could act like my father."

Armin scratches the back of his head, embarrassed: “Maybe. But i know you How I rate you, you would go to him in this elevator. "

Mikasa knows who he is talking about and so immediately blushes: “Now go. You don't have much time left. And say dear greetings Annie for me“, and would like to distract from the topic.

Armin waves to his friend again: “I will. I'll escort you to the port tomorrow. Onyankopon will pick you up there . Be done with everything at 7 o'clock. "

The rest of the day she does the final preparations and packs her suitcase that diplomat Kiyomi gave her for traveling. She would never have expected to leave her home again. She becomes wistful at the thought and tends to fall back into depression. She blurs her gloomy thoughts by further packing her things and arranging her wardrobe and dealing with the new items of clothing that she was given. She decides to take Levis letters with her. Because it would be too embarrassing, if someone stranger reads them. She puts them in a drawer of her wardrobe.

In the end, she decides on a white cotton blouse, a short pink cardigan in fine wool and a wine-red tulip-shaped skirt. Which accentuates her feminine silhouette and goes down to her slim, muscular calves. At the thought of showing so much leg, the blush comes back to her face. Fortunately, Historia has given her a pair of thin white stockings in the past which is provided with an extra holder that shows bare skin between her legs ... Mikasa wonders if Historia was trying to allude to something. She blushes madly. She will still combine her old underpants with it. Maybe she will find something more suitable in London ...

Then she continues with white lace gloves; A wine-red cloche hat made of felt with a black decorative felt flower on the side and black Oxford pumps with a small heel complete the outfit. Mikasa sees a completely different woman in the mirror and feels disguised and uncomfortable. If it were up to her, she would have put on her army clothes from earlier days. But she had discarded this. The memories of it hurt too much because she connected it to people who are no longer alive today.

Finally, she takes care of her hair and cuts a generous piece off to remove the lower matted part of her hair and shorter hairs are easier to maintain. She plans to cut her hair again in London to match the picture in the passport photo, but she can do that in a few days. One thing is still missing, the neck area is too revealing for her, as the blouse does not fit up to the neck and is looking for an accessory that distracts the view of the bare skin.

She looks at Eren's scarf and sighs. “Maybe I should start with something new“, and looks for something else and she can think of something more appropriate. She remembers the Survey Corps cord chain with leather, gold and a green gemstone. Diplomat Kijomi once explained to her that it is a green sapphire, these are very rare and usually blue. The green form is only available from her on Paradis and is therefore an object of value. Mikasa had never had any sense for such unimportant trinkets. In London she can get something more practical when she gets there.

Her gaze falls again on Eren's scarf. She realizes that she is starting a new life and wants to give it up. Still, she doesn't want to throw it away and thinks about it. Something occurs to her and she smiles at the thought. To do this, she wants to plug the holes with red wool so that it looks whole again. So she has something to do for the last night in her old home and can get distracted. Her endeavor lasts most of the night and in the end she holds the mended scarf, which is soft and fluffy again. She looks at the clock: 0 a.m.. Time to bathe and sleep again. Tomorrow is going to be a tough day with a long journey ahead of her and she doesn't want to have a bath in London first when she can do it here as well. Besides, she doesn't want to get there so dirty and sweaty. So this is her last act in her old home .

She has run warm water in her tub and the water smells like the usual core soap from the past. She is looking for some relaxation for herself after such a long day and thinks of him and their most likely time together. She feels a well-known tension rising in her that used to apply to Eren before he started his rumbling, and now she's been thinking of a certain Shorty for over a year now. She imagines his hands feeling her body, her breasts, her ass and her shame to feel them, to taste them and that she feels, that she gets wet at the thought of him and rubs herself unrestrainedly until she climaxes hard with two fingers. After that she can slowly relax and is out of breath, tiredness comes slowly and then goes to sleep. Fortunately, this time she has a dreamless sleep and can sleep through the next morning until Armin knocks on her door with Jonathan.

At the sight of Mikasa, Armin opens his eyes and his jaw almost drops when he sees her. His otherwise rather boyish girlfriend from the past looks like a different person, a young lady is standing in front of him. Embarrassed, she looks at Armin and shyly brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. Mikasa looks at him expectantly. "Mikasa?" Is all he can say.

His friend is completely insecure, “and Armin? Is that okay or do I look too disguised? "She looks down at herself doubtfully," I can also put on my old clothes. Maybe I should put on some pants too. Oh, I do not know…"

Armin shakes his head and takes both of her hands. He has red cheeks, “no. Everything is good. The way you look is just different. But in a pretty way. I think he'll be happy to see you like that .“ At the compliment, Mikasa gets tears in her eyes, " Armin ... "is all she can say. In order not to lose any more time, Armin helps her load her things and looks around to check, “ do you have everything with you? Your passport, your money and everything else important? ” Mikasa points to her small handbag, which was in her new cloakroom. She checks again whether she really has everything with her and then they can be on their way. Mikasa looks wistfully at her old home when she says goodbye and is then conscious of having to say goodbye.

Armin has rented one of the cars that many people drive on the other side of the sea for today. This is faster than with the carriage and they don't have that much time anymore. Armin always expects that they both will be stopped and he is glad that Mikasa and his small family are leaving today. Annie was initially against letting Jonathan go with Armin. But Armin asked Annie that her little son could say goodbye to Mikasa and understand that they won't see each other for a long time.

After a 30 minute drive, they arrived at the port without incident. It is the place where they all went to the sea for the first time 10 years ago. Shortly after learning that there are people outside the walls.

Onyankopon is already waiting. As a precaution, he didn't take a room and was able to spend the night with Annie and Armin so as not to create unnecessary suspicions if a foreigner is only here for one night on Paradis and thus also to protect Armin's family. He has already rented the small plane, which Armin and Mikasa called "flying boat" in the past, checked and prepared for the arduous journey halfway around the world. He's waiting on the landing stage. He hasn't changed much, thought about it Mikasa except that he has turned a little gray at the temples. But otherwise he is the same, Onyankopon cannot say the same about Mikasa. 6 years ago Mikasa had the appearance of a boyish youth, but 6 years can change a person, in front of him there is no longer the soldier from the past, but a pretty young woman who does not seem to be aware of her appearance.

Embarrassed, she takes a strand of hair in front of her face to hide her beginning redness again. Onyankopon greets the two of them so as not to create an uncomfortable mood, “Mikasa, Armin. Nice to see you both! Shall I help with the luggage? ”Onyankopon knows that they have little time and that everything has to be done quickly and sticks to Armin's agreement to start loading their belongings immediately. Mikasa remembers that she has a parting present for Armin's little son. The little one feels that they will not see each other for a long time and looks at his aunt Mikasa with tears. Under her blouse she has hidden the red scarf that she once received from an important person and puts it around Jonathan's neck like Eren did back then. Her tears come to her at this gesture, because the memories come up in her again and are as fresh again as if everything happened yesterday.

“I'll give you Eren's scarf, which you always loved to cuddle with. Jonathan, take good care of your mother and father for me. Do you hear? And be a dear big brother soon! ”Jonathan cries uncontrollably. He clearly inherited this sensitive trait from Armin. She touches the little boy's forehead with her forehead, “I love you and I'll write to you when I'm in London. So your father will soon have to teach you to read. Alright? "Jonathan looks expectantly at his father," Daddy ? "

Armin smiles at this loving scene between her and his son, "we'll do it", he confirms in response. Then Mikasa turns to Armin. He takes her in his arms and hugs her, “don't be afraid, do you hear! If necessary, I added Annie's father's number to the envelope. So you can reach us at any time and if everything goes wrong, you come to us. But I think you will be better off than here and you will be happy, I'm sure of that. ”Mikasa can't answer that much without breaking into tears and she wanted her to be remembered with a smile, “ take care of you!“ Is all she can say and then go on the plane. Mikasa waves goodbye one last time and so she and Onyankopon take to the skies and leave Paradis.

It's 2 years ago since I wrote this fanfiction, which I have written for and with good friend, who helped me through a hard time.

Sadly our contact broke up. I hope, she does go well.

#rivamika #levi x mikasa #levimika

4 notes · View notes

writing-good-vibes · 3 years ago

Text

brad dourif characters x reader headcanons: marriage

marriage isn't for everyone but if you did tie the knot, there is no way it wouldn't be a wild ride with all of them, one way or another. warning for smut (mild).

charles lee ray

no one could ever accuse this man of being a romantic

(except he really, really is)

legally he doesn't care if you get married or not

but you suggest it first (not a proposal) and you both mutually agree to it

then he sort of proposes (with a ring and flowers) after you've already agreed

if you want a legal marriage it would have to be before any of his murders are he is known to the police

(he's already known for petty crime but getting married would really blow his cover if he's already a wanted murderer)

you go to the nearest courthouse and have a bare minimum ceremony

he wears the nicest suit he already owns

and you go out and get a white dress that you could wear again to a bar

you sign the papers

then you consummate your love in the ladies toilets

whether you go on honeymoon depends on how much money you have at the time

either you go to a tacky wedding motel or you stay in and don't leave the apartment for a week

either way you're having a lot of sex

like seriously

jack dante

it's hard work to get him to actually go through with the wedding

he is actually the one to propose to you

after sex of course

"babe, we should like, get hitched"

he means it, he does, but maybe in a more metaphorical way??

it takes some nagging but you finally get him to go down to the courthouse with you

there is definitely a legal/financial aspect of your marriage

like he may be the wild card employee but he gets paid ludicrously well for everything he contributes to the company (and to try and keep a little bit under control)

if something happened to him (and he has no doubt one day bob might just have him bumped off) he may as well give everything to you, there's no one else for it to go to

neither of you dress up for the ceremony

but you do buy some tacky bridal lingerie to wear underneath

another bare minimum ceremony

it's not your first rodeo doing it in a public restroom

it's almost romantic, a repeat of your first time

the white lacy panties are surprisingly very appreciated

you have to convince him to move back to his old apartment together now that you're married instead of hiding away at CHAANK

he honestly probably forgets you're even married until you bring it up

billy bibbit

he proposes to you

one day while you're at home on a sunday afternoon

lay together on the couch while you read

"h-hey, i h-h-have sssomething to a-ask you"

his stutters gets a tiny bit worse and you worry something is up

"l-l-listen, I-I rrreally love y-you a-a-a-and I-" he has to pause and collect himself

but you already know what he's going to ask and you can't keep from smiling

"w-will you m-m-mmmarry me?"

you throw your book aside and throw your arms around him

"yes! yes, of course I will billy!"

billy is a good christian boy so you have a good christian church wedding (unless you have other religious/secular preferences)

it's a very small wedding

only your favourite family members and closest friends come

same with billy

he feels incredibly guilty for not inviting his mother, but he hasn't seen her since he finally discharged himself from the hospital

you reassured him and remind him that this is the start of your lives together

he looks so dapper in his suit

you help him pick it out

he insists he doesn't want to see your dress until the big day

he cries when he sees you walk up the aisle

loves calling you his wife, and you calling him husband makes him feel wanted

puts your wedding photo in every room and carries it around in his wallet

sheriff brackett

he didn't expect he'd ever find someone he'd want to marry

(what with his last marriage ending the way it did)

when he realises he's truly in love with you, and you with him, he plans his proposal

it's nothing extravagant but it's absolutely perfect

you have a romantic dinner together and he does a whole speech about how much he loves you

and you see where it's going but you let him go on for a minute until you're like "do you want to ask me something?"

he flusters about it but is very cute and finally pops the question

"i - sweetie, i'd be honoured to make you my wife, will you marry me?"

you have a church wedding (unless you have other religious/secular preferences)

close family and friends only

cries when you walk down the aisle

annie gets very invested in helping with the planning and is probably more bothered about it than either of you are

you have a (very) classy dress

loves that he can call you his wife now !! the sheriff's wife !!

reception at your house, classic buffet

lowkey you both cannot wait untl everyone just leaves

*wink wink*

you do have a first dance in private though after everyone leaves

you're both soft and giggling and the song is a cheesy love song but it's perfect

your wedding night is the height of romance

your bridal lingerie really does it for him

what better start for your marriage than him making you cum so many times that you lose count?

doc cochran

you and doc didn't think you'd get married at all

neither of you felt the need to make anything official

you both consider yourself as his common law wife anyway

but something happens (either you get pregnant or some unrest with the camp politics makes the future seem uncertain) you decide you may as well tie the knot officially

there's no real proposal, he just sort of asks

you go to the Grand where E.B (being mayor) unfortunately has to officiate

you don't intend to invite anyone, saying it is no one elses business

but people catch wind (i.e. al, trixie and jane, merrick, maybe sol and seth) and basically invite themselves

you wear your best dress

and doc doesn't half scrub up well

Al invites you both back for a drink at the gem which you accept

("only one though, al" "sure, sure, you gotta get back home - the marriage bed is waiting - I understand")

the marriage bed is waiting though and you get kind of emotional when you go home together for the first time as husband and wife

funnily enough no one shows up at doc's that night for treatment and you have the whole night to yourselves

grima wormtongue

it takes you both a long time before you admit your feelings for each other and commit to having a relationship rather than a friends with benefits situation

marriages move fairly quickly in middle earth

no sooner are you engaged are you at the alter

wedding is moderately fancy because grima is doing pretty well being the king's adviser

few people actually show up who don't have to be there though because neither of you exactly have a lot of friends

grima almost clams up when it comes the ceremony because he doesnt want to say all this personal stuff about how much he loves you in front of other people

but you both get through it and finally, finally you are properly married

he's very emotional when you consummate your marriage but he tries to hide it

(but you know him too well)

tommy ludlow

he proposes one morning after sex

it's only just getting light and you both have to get up for work soon

you're still sweaty and his face is pressed into your neck

and in hushed tones you whisper back and forth

"will you marry me?"

it takes you a second to process what he said, "you wanna get married?"

"if you'll have me"

you kiss him and whisper "yes"

it's a church wedding for you and tommy (unless you have other religious/secular preferences)

he has a pretty big extended family and he has to invite them all

your dress and his suit are second hand

(because you're saving for better things)

laura takes a lot of photos for you

including the classic confetti toss one as you leave the church

takes you ages to comb all the confetti out of tommy's hair afterwards

cheesy first dance at the wedding reception

you can tell tommy is nervous so you joke around and make sure he doesn't take it too seriously

when you get home? goddamn you ride him like there's no tomorrow

(still in your wedding dress)

leo nova

it's go big or go home with him

80s fashion at its best

your dress is worth more than the rent on your old apartment

he doesn't see it before the wedding

you're surprised at how many traditions he sticks too despite him having the emotional range of a teaspoon

not many people get an invite to the ceremony but it's a wild after party

like a bunch of coked out 80s gangsters ?? amazing

the honeymoon is next level

you go to some tropical holiday resort (caribbean, thailand or spain) and it is all sun, sex and sangria for two whole weeks

tucker cleveland

didn't think he'd want to get married again

but in reality he just didn't like his first wife all that much

takes you out to dinner and proposes

when you say yes he is honestly relieved

but because he doesn't want to get emotional he calls over the waiter to get your free dessert

courthouse wedding

you do insist he wears a suit though and you buy a white dress

does the whole "just married" thing on the back of his truck

actually takes you on a honeymoon (sort of)

you go out of state and stay in a motel for a week

(vigorous sex ensues)

now you're married good and proper you can be his good little wifey

136 notes · View notes

remembering-lisa · 3 years ago

Text

May - Lisa's month

May was always Lisa's month. Mothers' Day, then her birthday and then Memorial Day weekend which launched us into her favorite season of Summer. We would always talk about her birthday month, and I would always feel a sense of pressure coming into May because I wanted it to be special for her.

Yesterday was Mother's Day. Our plan was to go up to John & Michelle's house for the weekend and hike in the North Cascades but terrible weather foiled that plan. So the kids and their spouses came to my house for the weekend. We played games, we took walks on the trails, we went to Matador in honor of Lisa because she loved that restaurant, and we visited her gravesite on Sunday. It was so good to be together. We laughed and talked and cried together. Since Lisa has saved most greeting cards she was given, for each of the kids I purchased a two-way acrylic picture frame and put a photo of Lisa and them on one side, and a Mothers' Day card that they had given her over the years on the other. Also, last Mothers' Day & Fathers' Day Annie bought us a Storyworth subscription which sends us a question each week about our life. We complete the question, we can add photos if we want, and submit it. Lisa was able to do these until November. So Annie had Lisa's Storyworth book made and gave us each a book. We knew it would be a treasure but we had no idea last year what a powerful gift it would turn out to be. There's no way around it, Mother's Day was hard. I missed Lis, and I missed my mom. But I'm thankful for my family.

Bobby will graduate from Law School next Sunday. That will be a great accomplishment, but tinged with sadness. Lisa's birthday will be the next hard thing. Then there will be others. All of these firsts are heavy with sadness. But we keep going.

I was asked this week, "Does what happened to Lisa make you re-evaluate anything? Does it change your perspective about the "fairness" of life?" Those are great questions. But I don't think it has changed anything. I've always known there are terribly unfair things in our world. And I came to realize a long time ago that faith is not formulaic. We can do all the "right" things and still find ourselves in terribly difficult situations. But I don't blame God for that and it doesn't shake my faith in Him. He never promised things would be easy in our broken world, and I trust Him, even when I don't understand. I do have a lot of questions, and I do know God could have intervened in Lisa's situation, and I wish He would have. But sometimes things are just hard. It reminds me of the time that Jesus asked Peter, after a hard conversation that caused many to desert Jesus, "Are you also going to leave?" And Peter replied, "Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life."

Happy Mother's Day Lis. You were amazing with our kids and they all know it. We'll still try make your birthday month special, one day at a time.

3 notes · View notes

seasonsofeverlark · 4 years ago

Text

Worth the Wait

Author: @ameliaodair

Prompt: Modern AU: Peeta and Katniss were on vacation in Argentina. Their days are up now and they’re on their way back to the US, however, a tornado alert gets them stranded in Lima, Peru. It’s Halloween and they were supposed to go trick or treating with Finnick and Annie and now here they are. What they didn’t know, is that in Peru they celebrate something called Día de la Canción Criolla, and they get swept into the joyous atmosphere. Dressing up as the locals, Everlark celebrate Halloween in a different way. [submitted by @evestedic]

Rating: T

Author’s Note: I tweaked the prompt a little, hope you still like it :) This is my first time writing for one of these, so I hope I did it right, and I hope I did the prompt justice. Enjoy :)

I always want to say thanks to my wonderful beta @eiramrelyat.

____________

Part 1

Katniss tosses her suitcase into the trunk of her car, irritated that her flight was cancelled. She promised her sister she would be home tomorrow, in time to see her niece and nephews’ costumes for their very first Halloween. If there was one thing in this world that Katniss despised, it was disappointing her baby sister.

“A tornado? Seriously, a freaking tornado in Peru! Just wonderful!” She mumbles to herself, securing her seatbelt in place. Before leaving the parking lot she reaches for her phone, browsing for somewhere to stay for a night or two; at least until she can catch the next flight home. “Great, no service.” Could anything else go wrong today? She thinks to herself, tossing her phone back into her purse.

After being stuck in traffic for nearly an hour, only going at a speed of ten miles per hour, she tries to summon the courage to call her sister. Gripping her hands firmly around the wheel and tapping her fingers nervously, she finally speaks to the car’s navigation system. “Call Prim.”

“Calling Prim” The car responds. Prim answers on the second ring, the excitement laced in her voice.

“Oh my gosh Katniss, I am so excited for you to see the twins’ costumes! Are you in the states yet? What time is your flight? Do you have an estimated arrival time? I can come and get you, or…or—"

Katniss cringes at her sister’s questions before deciding to interrupt her. “Prim, I um…there was a problem- no, there is a problem.” Katniss looks out the window, noticing how crowded the streets are, and the people seem to be dressed rather…vivaciously. ‘I wonder what that’s all about?’ She thinks to herself.

“What’s wrong, are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m fine. It’s just that…my flight…well, it got cancelled. I mean…not ‘cancelled,’ cancelled, but more like…delayed. There’s like…a severe tornado warning or something and they’ve grounded all flights until further notice.”

‘Are they…dancing?’ Katniss thinks to herself, seeing a woman be twirled around in an immaculate dress, the dress fanning out to reveal the beautiful colors.

“Seriously? Katniiisss….” Prim whines like a toddler, elongating Katniss’s name.

“Give me a break, Prim, you’ll take a zillion pictures, we’ll facetime, and you can dress them up when I get home. They’re babies, they won’t even know the difference.”

“But I will.” Katniss despises it when Prim does this. Looking out the window again, Katniss sees a group of small kids dressed up in costumes.

‘How adorable.’ She thinks to herself, smiling.

“Come on Prim…This is totally out of my control. You know I would be there if I could. Plus, don’t you have a wonderful husband to keep you busy?”

“Yeah…I do—” Katniss can hear the smile in Prim’s voice and that always makes her happy. Even after being together for five years, Prim and Rory are still so sickening in love with each other; it would make Katniss sick if she didn’t love her sister so much. “But he’s not you. No one can replace you, big sister.”

“I know Prim—” Katniss cranes her neck out the open window to see what all the commotion is about. “Prim, I need to go…there is something…I don’t know what it is, but I’ll call you later. Take lots of pictures for me!” She says just before ending the call, not giving Prim the opportunity to make her feel any worse. As if that is even possible.

A month ago the company Katniss works for asked someone to take an impromptu trip to Argentina, just before the holiday’s no less. To have the opportunity arise to be the mediator in an attempt to merge their company with one of the hotshot rivalry companies nearby, Katniss was the first to volunteer.

With no life other than her sister and her sister’s family, Katniss had no obligations which left her the perfect candidate to leave the country. Everyone else had families they didn’t want to leave, not knowing how long it would take to do the negotiations, they did not want to risk being in another country for the holidays.

It had been almost ten years since she lost the love of her life and she had accepted the fact that you only get one of those per lifetime. She was secretly hoping for better luck in her next one. He was beautiful and he was perfect, and she thought their love transcended time and space. So what if they were only teenagers, and so what if she had not seen him in almost ten years. It did not seem to matter how many times she tried to find love, it just never felt right.

At seventeen years old, she and her sister became orphans. Social Services came to her house early one morning and loaded her and Prim into a car, refusing to allow them to say goodbye to anyone.

Katniss no longer cries from the anguish of losing him, but the agony from missing him is still as fresh as that first night. When she turned eighteen, she could have gone back to Panem, but she was too scared. What if she went back and he had moved on? Found someone else to love, got married, and…no, not knowing was better. Rejection would be worse.

Katniss hoped this trip would give her some insight as to what she might do with the rest of her life. She cannot continue to lean on Prim forever; she has her own family now.

Katniss finally makes out what the commotion is ahead of her and a smile forms on her lips when she catches sight of the herds of people dancing in the street, causing her to remember their dance competition. With him. “Dammit Katniss, stop it. Why do you keep thinking about him today?” She scolds herself before spotting a hotel across the street. She pulls into a parking space, crossing her fingers they have a vacancy, but by the looks of the massive hoards of people crowding the streets, she is not very confident.

She reaches up to her neck where her collar bone dips in, and with her thumb and forefinger, she pinches the pearl that hangs from her necklace. From him. It is the necklace he gave her on her sixteenth birthday. ‘As long as you wear this necklace, you will know how much I love you. Always.’

‘Always.’ It was their ‘thing.’ Some people made promises of forever, but not them. No, they promised for always. She remembers his exact words, and for some reason, he feels closer than ever. Close enough to touch. Something in the back of her mind says.

Shaking her head to rid her mind of the penetrating thoughts, Katniss decides to make her way into the hotel to see if there is a room available before unloading her suitcase. She locks the rental car and pushes her way through the crowded streets and into the entrance of The Holiday Inn.

Upon entering the building, Katniss is greeted by a beautiful woman with perfectly golden hair and a smile bright enough to light up the entire building. She says something in Spanish that Katniss cannot understand, confusion written all over her face.

“Crap, I left my translator in my car” Katniss mumbles under her breath after reaching over and checking her purse.

Realizing that Katniss does not understand her, the woman speaks again, this time in English, laced with a heavy accent. “Welcome to The Holiday Inn, can I interest you in a room?”

“Oh, you speak English!” Katniss says, more excited than she should be.

“Effie does not allow any of her employees to man the front desk unless they are fluent in English. We get a lot of tourists.” Madge says, explaining to her.

“Effie?” Katniss asks, finding the name strange. Like she’s one to talk.

“Effie is the boss. This is her hotel. She’s more of a designer if you ask me, but she’s famous for dressing people up for the Dia de la Canción Criolla! She will be knocking on your door within the next hour!”

“Dia day what?” Katniss asks, not hearing what Madge said due to how fast the words seemed to escape her mouth.

“Dia De La Canción Criolla. It is a celebration of Criolla music. There will be dancing, lots of dancing! And music, yes…beautiful music! You should come, it’s so much fun!” Madge tells her with stars in her eyes, as if she is remembering a heartfelt moment.

“Oh, well…I’ll think about it.” Katniss says timidly, giving Madge a smile.

Katniss is thrilled the hotel has a vacancy and hands Madge her credit card to confirm her room for the night. While she waits for the transaction to process, she and Madge make small talk. Madge returns her credit card and ID along with the plastic key card with the numbers ‘12-13’ displayed on the front, as well as a brochure.

“If you take these elevators up to the twelfth floor and make a quick right, room thirteen will be on your left. Here is a list of amenities as well as numbers if there is anything you need. And Katniss?”

“Yes?”

“You should come out for the night. You only live once.”

With a polite smile, Katniss nods her head, turning her back to Madge to retrieve her suitcase from her car.

Nearly half an hour later, she returns to the hotel with her suitcase in tow and steps onto the elevator. Just as the doors begin to close, she spots a man running, trying to catch the elevator before the doors close. Katniss presses the button to keep the elevator open, but she is just a moment too late. With a mind of its own, the doors seal themselves shut, rising her up to the twelfth floor.

‘Why do I keep thinking about him today? Why does he feel so close to me? I’m in Peru for Heavensbee’s sake!’ Katniss says smiling to herself, reaching for the pearl again. ‘Heavensbee’s sake’ was one of ‘their’ inside jokes. “Perhaps this ‘Dia De La…whatchamacallit is just the thing I need to distract my mind from him. And who knows what’ll happen.” She mumbles to herself, entering her hotel room.

When the door slams shut behind her, she hears the distinct ‘ding’ from the elevator. ‘Whoever that man was must have made it up.’ She thinks to herself, recalling the flash of blonde hair, with those bouncing blonde waves, just like him. ‘No, stop it. He is not here Katniss. It has been ten years. Ten years. You should be over him by now. So, just…Get over it.’

But she’s not, and she can’t.

Freshly out of the shower, with one towel wrapped around her body and another one on the top of her head, she reaches for the phone and proceeds to call the number Madge had given her. She needs to do something to distract her mind. She is going to celebrate Dia De La Canción Criolla like a Peruvian.

“Give me a break Dad. It’s Halloween, it’s not even really a holiday. The bakery will survive if I’m gone for another few days.”

“I know kid, I know. I’m sorry…I just…you know…I miss you. You’ve been gone for like—”

“Two weeks. I have been gone for two weeks. And I will be home in a few more days. Control over the weather is not a power I have homed in on as of yet.” Peeta’s dad chuckles at his words but is still disappointed. “Listen dad, as soon as they open the flights back up, the airline promised to call me, and I’ll be on the first flight back to the states. Now look, I’ve gotta go, the streets here are insane and I need to find a place to crash for the night. I’ll let you know when to pick me up.”

“Okay, son. Oh, and Peet?”

“Yeah, dad?”

“Try to have some fun.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll try. I’ve gotta go, bye dad.” Peeta ended the call before giving his father any more fuel to drag the call on longer.

Peeta woke up that morning with an uncanny feeling that something was wrong. When he got to school that morning and she wasn’t there, that feeling in his stomach intensified. They talked to each other every day before and after school. She was his best friend, and he was hers. They told each other everything, so when he still had not heard from her by dinner that night, he knew deep in his gut something was wrong. Really wrong.

The next day, Magnolia, one of her sister’s friends, came to him asking if he had heard anything from either of the girls. For two days now, both girls have been missing from school. Magnolia did not know it, but she had just confirmed the gut-wrenching fear in the pit of his stomach.

For days, Peeta hounded the adults to no avail, questioning anyone he could as to her whereabouts. She would never just up and leave without telling him, at least not without saying goodbye.

After two weeks, Peeta’s father realized that Peeta needed answers, that he would not be able to rest until he knew what happened to her, so using his connections he was able to obtain some information. Peeta cried in his father’s arms as he told him what happened. Social services came that morning, came before the sun was even up, and basically kidnapped the girls. Both of their parents died in a car accident and at sixteen and a half years old, she took over the role of mom and dad to her little sister. Apparently, someone placed an anonymous call, claiming to be “worried,” about the girls, hence social service ripping them from their lives.

For years, Peeta tried to find her. But when his father lost his job, they had to relocate to another state. Peeta did not want to leave if by some chance she came back looking for him, but he was only a kid himself, so he didn’t have a choice.

At one point, he hired a private investigator, but so far; nothing has come up. All his friends and family keep insisting he “move on,” But he just couldn’t, he can’t. “You don’t just move on from your soulmate, from your one true love” he told them all. There is no one else, only her. If I am not with her, then I will just be alone. One day, he will find her, he is certain of it.

“I know I’m probably asking the impossible, but would you happen to have a room for one?” Peeta asks once he reaches the desk, giving the beautiful girl his most charming smile.

“Oh, don’t let the streets fool you, sir. It’s Día De La Canción Criolla, the Peruvian festival of Music. And to answer your question, yes, in fact we do.” The receptionist, Madge, proceeded to tell him with her heavy accent and dazzling smile, staring at the computer screen in front of her, typing away.

A few minutes later, Madge hands him his plastic key card to his room in the penthouse along with a brochure filled with amenities, phone numbers, and information about this “Dia De La Canción Criolla.”

“Since you are already here sir, you should come out tonight and check it out. Have some fun.” Have some fun, those were his father’s exact words.

But dancing…especially that kind of dancing brought him back to memories of her. She was the captain of the dance club in high school and she convinced him to enter a couple’s dance competition with her. Never able to tell her no, he agreed. He was never as good as her, but where he lacked, she excelled. It was like that with everything they did. They picked up each other’s slack. When one was weak, the other was strong. Always.

As he is scribbling his signature on the consent form to bill him at checkout, for just a split microsecond he thinks he sees her. Heading onto the elevator is a woman with the same shade of hair, in that same over the shoulder braid she would wear, and the same olive complexion. It had been almost ten years since the last time he saw her face, ten years since the last time his lips touched hers, but he is certain that one-hundred years could go by…no, a thousand years could pass, and he would always know her. Always.

Once his ‘T’s’ are crossed, he politely excuses himself from the receptionist, and runs to the elevator. He can’t make her face out as the doors slide shut, but he can tell she tried to hold the door for him, but it was too late. The elevator has a mind of its own and she slipped through his fingers.

“It’s not her, it couldn’t possibly be.” He tells himself, his head hanging down as he presses the button and waits for the elevator. He rides up to the twelfth floor and as soon as the doors open, he hears a door slamming from around the corner. He finds his room, walks into it, and plops down on the bed.

Lying back on the bed, something in Peeta’s pocket begins poking his thigh. He reaches into his pocket and grips firmly onto the pocket watch that he always keeps with him. From her.

At fifteen years old, he began saving his earnings from working at the bakery for eight months in order to buy her that necklace. When he first saw it hanging in the shop, he knew he just had to have it. He knew it was made just for her. It had been sitting in his underwear drawer for almost two weeks before he gave it to her on her sixteenth birthday. His gift brought tears to her eyes because of what it meant.

She wanted to give him something too, but he insisted that it doesn’t work that way. You do not give a gift to someone because they gave you something. That was the first time she said those three magical little words. She told him, “I’m not giving this to you because you gave me this necklace, I’m giving this to you…I want you to have this because I love you.” It was her father’s, a gift from her mother. It meant the world to her, so he knew what she was saying before she even said the words.

“Dammit Peeta! Get a grip. It isn’t her, I’m in Peru for Heavensbee’s sake! An entire country away!” Peeta yells at himself, confused as to why she is on his mind so hard today.

Peeta jumps into the shower, having decided that maybe he will join the festivities, if for nothing else, then to distract his mind from her. He picks up the brochure and places a call to one of the names Madge had recommended. If he is going to a Peruvian festival…(or is it a party?), he is going to need something to wear.

Part 2

“Hi Katniss, my name is Cinna and I’ll be your stylist.” Katniss lets the man in that Effie had recommended helping her find something to wear for tonight.

“Come in, it’s nice to meet you Cinna, I’m Katniss.” Katniss sticks her hand out to Cinna, but he ignores it and wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace. He then pulls back and circles around her, inspecting her from all angles.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Cinna asks after he finishes orbiting her once.

“What gave it away? My accent? Or the constant look of confusion permanently embedded on my face?” Cinna chuckles at her, deciding that he is going to like this girl. She is something special.

“I’ve met everyone who comes through here, and I am certain I would remember a face as radiant as yours,” Cinna says, noticing the rosy hue filling Katniss’s cheeks. There is a knock on the door, startling Katniss. Cinna reaches for the doorknob and opens the door, and three strange-looking people come bouncing in. Their hair is quite flamboyant, they wear some rather vivid and strange colors, but they look at Cinna as if he were the sun. But most importantly, they seem truly happy to be here, to help her.

“Katniss, these are my assistants, and they will be helping me in getting you ready for tonight.”

“Okay. But, you do realize that I’m dressing up for this Dia de la Festival thing and not my wedding, right?”

“Dia de la Canción Criolla.” Octavia, one of Cinna’s assistants says so fast, Katniss only heard gibberish.

“How do you guys say that so fast?”

‘I wonder if they do this often?’ Katniss thinks to herself when Flavius, another of Cinna’s assistants rolls in this cart filled with the most immaculate, dazzling dresses, shoes, and so many other accessories Katniss would never dream of wearing.

They get right down to business, no dilly-dallying. Katniss tries on dress after dress for what felt like hours, only to have them settle on the first dress, much to Katniss’s irritation. Each dress takes all four of them to help her into, which Katniss could not begin to fathom why it was so difficult.

The dress they decide on is more beautiful than she is able to put into words. The upper half clings to her form, accentuating each of her womanly curves. It is a modest dress, for when she looks in the mirror, she feels beautiful, but not provocative. It shows just enough cleavage, but not too much. The skirt of the dress is loose and free-flowing, if anyone happens to twirl her around tonight, it will fan out in immaculate precession.

“Oh, Miss Katniss, just you wait till someone spins you around in this baby.” Katniss looks startled as she scowls at Flavius.

“Wh-what’ll happen?”

“I can’t give away all the secrets, now can I?” Flavius looks at her conspiratorially.

“Don’t worry Katniss, nothing bad will happen.” Cinna places a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. But it isn’t his touch that calms her, but the gentle tone of his voice. She cannot help but notice that Cinna has this natural air about him, he makes her feel calm just by entering the room.

Once they finish adding the final touches to her dress, they chain her to a chair, (figuratively speaking) and get to work on her hair.

“So, is there a special someone we’re fixing you up for the night?” Just as Cinna asks the question, Effie walks into the room.

“Oh, hello guys, don’t mind me. I just wanted to observe the divine Cinna at work!” Effie pulls up a chair, making sure she isn’t in the way, and watches as their experienced fingers intricately style Katniss’ hair.

Katniss is hypnotized as she watches four sets of hands intricately brush, comb, part, separate, and braid her hair.

Remembering Cinna’s question, Katniss blushes before saying, “Oh no. There is no one, I just…I just…Well, since I’m already here, I figured I should get the full Peruvian experience.”

“Oh, you have a man back at home, do you?” Octavia blurts out.

“No. No, there isn’t anyone. Well, once…No, never mind.”

“Awe, come on! Tell us!” Flavius pleads with her.

“PLEEEEASE!!” All three assistants beg at the same time in a sing-song voice.

Katniss hesitates for a moment, realizing there is no harm in confiding in these complete strangers, she starts. “Well, there was this one guy, once. When I was younger.”

“Ooooh, was he handsome?”

“What color were his eyes?”

They each spit out their own questions, curious to the man who once held her heart, forcing the image of his perfect face into the forefront of her mind.

“No, he was not handsome…. He was…he was beautiful. He had the bluest eyes, bluer than the ocean and the sky mixed together. And his hair…it was this sandy blonde, with just the right amount of waves, you know…not too curly but definitely not straight. He was my best friend, my soul mate. He was everything to me.”

“So, what happened?” Flavius blurts out.

“You speak of him as if you’re still in love with him,” Vennia says, giving Katniss a forlorn look.

“I got…I got ripped away from him. And I haven’t been able to find him since. But someone as amazing as him, surely he’s married with a few kids by now.” Katniss omits how she is actually too chicken to even look for him as she hangs her head down, the pain of him with someone else cut like razors.

Effie’s eyes go wide as she recognizes this story, without excusing herself, she gets up and storms out of the room in a dash.

“What was that about?” Katniss asks inquisitively.

Flavius does a motion with his hands and rolls his eyes. “Who knows? That woman is a bit cuckoo.” However, Katniss notices the knowing look being shared between Cinna and his assistants.

“Perfecto!” Vennia says once her hair is complete.

“Now, one last thing,” Octavia says, reaching for the clasp around Katniss’ neck.

Katniss spins around to face Octavia, “Wh-What are you doing?”

“I have a better one for you to wear tonight.”

“No, the necklace does not come off.” The firm tone in Katniss’s voice tells everyone not to argue.

And they don’t.

Effie storms back into Peeta’s room- the busy body she is- and pulls up a chair next to Peeta as Portia and her team get him ready for the night.

“Peeta? Will you tell me about your girl again? The one from your childhood.” Peeta raises an eyebrow, making sure to hold his head still as Portia does whatever she is doing to his hair. He isn’t sure why it is taking so long, but he doesn’t question her.

Peeta’s eyes light up at the thought of his girl. “Oh Effie, she was…she was perfect. She was the sun and the moon and the stars, all in one.” Effie notices the sparkle in Peeta’s eyes as he speaks of the girl. “She was so beautiful, and her eyes…I’ve never seen the same shade on another human being’s face, silver as the moonlight, intense as the night sky. Her hair, well back then it was long, nearly to the middle of her back. But she always wore it in this braid over her shoulder—” Effie’s eyes go wide as she listens to Peeta, realizing he is describing the girl in the next room.

‘Could it be?’ Effie thinks to herself. “Peeta, I think you should meet your neighbor. Maybe you could share a dance with her…Spend a night on the town—”

Peeta chuckles before interrupting her. “That’s okay Effie. I’m going home as soon as the airlines call me anyway. I just wanted to experience Dia De La Canción Criolla Peruvian style.”

Effie shrugs her shoulders, getting up to leave as an idea comes to mind. If her plan is to succeed, she will need help. “Okay, Peeta. Your loss.”

Effie waits in her office until she sees Miss Everdeen exit the hotel. Once she knows Cinna is free, she immediately goes to him and shares her suspicions.

“Cinna, we must, we absolutely must bring those two together!”

“Effie, what are the chances that the true love they lost and speak of just happens to be in the next room? An entire country away?” Cinna asks, exasperated by Effie’s infatuation with true love.

“Okay, so maybe I’m wrong…But what would it hurt?” Cinna thinks about it for a moment, deciding no harm could come of it, he listens to Effie’s plan.

x – x – x

“Thank you for coming with me Portia, I felt a little strange coming out here by myself.” Peeta gives Portia a smile as they leave the hotel and join the crowded streets. There are people dancing everywhere, children carousing the streets alongside their parents dressed up in their costumes.

“Would you like to dance Portia?” Portia scans the area, looking for any sign of Cinna, and then nods her head. She will dance them closer to where Cinna is with his girl.

“Where did you learn to dance Peeta? You’re quite good.” Peeta blushes at Portia’s compliment.

“Katniss.”

“Katniss? Was that her name? Your sweetheart back home?”

Peeta nods, just as a handkerchief flies into his face. He reaches for it, holding it in front of him with a confused look. “What the—”

“It means there is a lovely lady who wishes to dance with you.” Portia maneuvers Peeta’s body, turning him around and pushing him toward the woman standing next to Cinna. The darkness of the night, in addition to the lack of streetlights, prevents Peeta from clearly seeing her face. All he can make out is the silhouette of her face, yet the moment their fingers brush against each other, he instantly feels that familiarity…he feels at home.

But Peeta would know her anywhere; at least he thinks it is her. No, no. His mind is just playing tricks on him. Either way, he extends his arm to her, and she accepts graciously just as The Marinera begins to play.

It is their dance. Katniss and Peeta’s dance from high school. Peeta circles her once, and then again. She smiles at him flirtatiously, swinging her hips as she sways to the music. They tease each other back and forth throughout the night. It is as if they had spent their entire lives perfecting their moves, as if their bodies are meant to be as one.

The familiarity that overtakes them when Peeta places his hands on Katniss’ hips sends shock waves surging through their bodies. ‘Why does this feel so familiar? Why does this feel so right?’ Peeta thinks to himself after their second dance.

They dance the night away with each other, oblivious to the identity of their dance partner. The chemistry surges through Peeta’s body, and he knows she feels it too. There is something familiar about this woman, but Peeta cannot quite put his finger on it. It isn’t until the light of the moon casts its glow, causing the pendant on her necklace to shimmer in the moonlight, which is when Peeta freezes.

It can’t be, no, this girl just happens to have the same necklace. But then he sees the tiny inscription of the word “Always” in elegant script at the base of the pearl. That is when he knows.

It is her.

His Katniss.

Part 3

Turning away from the familiar stranger, Katniss hikes her dress up and runs back to the hotel. She rushes onto the elevator and presses the button for the twelfth story. When the doors open to her floor, she takes off in a sprint again, toward her room, then slams the door behind her once she’s inside.

“Get a grip, Katniss, wake up. It’s not him. You are just dreaming!” She yells at herself, lightly banging the back of her head against the door. ‘How does he know my name?’ she asks herself.

Less than a minute later, there is a knock at the door. “Katniss? Katniss, are you okay? Please open the door. I know it’s you. It’s me, Peeta. I’m sorry if I scared you; it’s just…can you please open the door so that I can see your face?”

Can it be him? Is it truly him? So many times, Katniss thought she saw him, only to be disappointed when it turned out to be someone else. Her heart cannot take another beating.

With her hand on the door handle, Katniss closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, preparing herself for the inevitable. Slowly, she opens the door just a crack, peeking through the small space.

“Peeta? Is it…is it really you?” She asks, slowly nudging the door open.

They stand there with their eyes locked, staring at each other while time stands still. A loose strand of hair blows in Katniss’s eyes, interrupting their trance. It is enough to reel her back into the present, and Peeta extends his arm, stroking Katniss’s cheek.

“Katniss,” Peeta says, staring longingly into her eyes. He slowly lowers his hand, pinching the tiny pearl hanging from Katniss’s neck. “You still…I can’t believe you still have it.”

Katniss glances at his left hand that grasps her pearl, and her heart speeds up at the absence of a ring. Peeta reaches up and places his hands on either side of Katniss’s face, bringing his face closer to inspect that it is really her.

“I never…I never take it off,” Katniss says, licking her lips. “Do you want to…come in?” Katniss asks him.

Peeta gives her a nod and walks past her and into the room. Katniss closes the door behind him, and when she turns around to face Peeta, he pulls her close, slamming his lips onto hers.

The kiss is deep, sensual, and passionate, everything they have craved over the years. Peeta takes Katniss to the bed in the center of the room, removing his jacket and slinging it behind him.

Katniss allows Peeta to take control. He lays her back against the sheets, then follows after her until he’s, hovering above her. “My God, I have missed you.” His voice reverberates between their connected lips.

There is no denying it. It is her. The only thing that matters is Katniss. His Katniss. Right here, right now, she stands in front of him after all this time. He cannot take it anymore and closes the short distance between them, slamming his lips against hers. Peeta plunges his tongue deep into her mouth, devouring her. Tasting her. Reveling in her.

The moment their lips connect, they knew they had finally found each other. And yes, it was definitely worth the wait.

5 Years Later

“I can’t believe you are getting married in Peru on Halloween!” Prim squeals, zipping the back of Katniss’ wedding gown up.

“It’s not Halloween in Peru, Prim. It’s Día de la Canción Criolla. And it’s when Peeta and I found each other again.”

“I know, sissy. I still can’t believe you guys found each other in Peru of all places! I mean, I don’t remember a whole lot from…from before, but I remember how happy you guys were when we were kids. And then I remember how sad you were when we had to leave, and…and I’m just so glad you found him!” Prim says, turning Katniss around and adding the finishing touches to her hair.

“I’m just glad that you, Rory, and the kids were able to come. Have you seen Peeta? Is he okay?”

“No, you are not seeing him until the wedding. No exceptions!” Prim tells Katniss, pointing a sassy finger in her face.

When Peeta catches sight of Katniss walking down the aisle to marry him, in the captivating dress with pearl accents, his heart stops in his chest at how beautiful she is. When he finally found her after so many years, he thought he had died and was living in his dreams.

He finally found her, and she was now his to love. Always.

#everlark #autumn 2020 #everlark fanfiction #autumn #ameliaodair #submission #prompt

50 notes · View notes

mego42 · 4 years ago

Text

First line tag

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag some of your favorite authors!

tagged by @roxy206 and @pynkhues ty ty 😘

The clack clack clack of pool balls scattering is the first thing Beth hears when she shoves open the door of the bar, relieved to find it still unlocked. - trade my heart for honey

There's somethin' 'bout falling snow that's always captivated Rio. - swaying evergreens

It starts with a lie. - swear on a silver knife

It's weird, leaving the house for good. - listening through the air shaft (dean pov)

can we meet All in all, it's a pretty standard text. Rio could probably scroll through his phone and find at least 15 others at any given point. More if he didn't dump his phones every week or two. Even more if he didn't have Mick filtering most of the bullshit for him. - Pills N Potions (I’m angry. But.)

To say Beth's night had not gone as planned is a bit of an understatement. - a song inside the halls of the dark

Beth's tense as hell. - listening through the air shaft (ruby pov)

Rio doesn’t know how it happens, drinkin’ with Elizabeth. He’s never really known how it happened when they used to do it, it never seemed like her scene. If he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t know how anything happened with her, really, but that’s an entirely other thing he doesn’t have the energy to get into right now. - Pills N Potions (“I’ve missed this.” + “I still remember the way you taste.”)

It's wild how you can know someone since literal birth, develop a pretty solid picture of who they are as a person—and a super boring person, no less—only to discover they had this whole other, like, completely different, much cooler person living inside them the entire time. - listening through the air shaft (annie pov)

Mick doesn't know how to feel about Mrs. Boland, to be honest. - listening through the air shaft (mick pov)

"Here comes trouble," Rhea cries, already laughing as she opens the door, and Marcus comes barreling into her legs. - listening through the air shaft (rhea pov)

At first, Rio doesn't have to justify why he's coming by the showroom. - now use both hands

"You’re short one, man. Where's my other bag at?" - I’d give her a HA! And a HI-YA!

“Where’s your sister?” Rio straight up, like, materializes in the kitchen, startling the fuck out of Annie and making her drop the chip bowl she’s refilling. - Pills N Potions (#highwhilebi)

Beth doesn’t know why she does it. The whole thing is just...insane. It’s insane, there’s no way around it. Especially now that all the cards are on the table. - Pills N Potions (all the bridges you came over)

If you'd asked Beth two years ago about embracing new experiences, she probably would've said something like they're good for growth as a general concept, but raising four kids was enough day to day new experiences. She didn't need to seek out anything on top of that, thank you very much. - as the world turns, the blunt burns

There ain't no fuckin' way that lying bitch is fuckin' pregnant. - smoke, fire, it's all going up

I have an idea. 1:07 PM - got a kiss (with your name on it)

"What am I doing here, Elizabeth?" Beth's honestly not sure how Rio expects her to answer him in any way coherently when he's looking at her like that. With all of that ferocity and focus honed to a diamond point behind hooded eyes fixed directly, entirely on her. The barest hint of a smile lurks in the curve of his lip as he waits for her answer. - say it's all in my head (i remember what you said)

Beth is a champion at not thinking about things. - the world is on fire (and no one can save me)

things i learned:

i have written enough gg fic to play this game with minimal cheating. wild!

i am fond of a context-less snippet of internal dialogue as an opener. i’m fine with that tbh

i should not be allowed to title fic while in the throes of a hyperfixation bc it shows

i am at my best when writing annie pov

idk which one’s my favorite! probably annie’s chapter for listening bc it makes me laugh

tagging @foxmagpie, @sothischickshe, @bethsuglywigs, @septiembrre, @riosnecktattoo, @hypermania, @carry-the-sky

#i should do another mick pov #i'm overdue #i think this is 20 #it occurred to me after the fact numbering them would be helpful #tag games #first line meme #my fic #shut up meg

13 notes · View notes

magpiewithacamera · 4 years ago

Photo

My grandmother always had a big ‘thing’ about finishing anything you were working on within the year you started it. The week between Christmas and New Years was full of her crocheting, knitting and sewing as she finished projects quickly. I remember probably about 1971 hurrying to finish a sewed ragdoll, sitting next to her on the couch, as we drank ginger ale and watched the shenanigans in Times Square on the old b&w zenith TV.

I’m going to finish something now, if y’all don’t mind.

These are my friends, who died in this past year. And I said their names at the fountain this month, but I want somebody to know them, to at least know they existed.

First. Saeb. Amazing person. An author. He sold his stories on the street. Like, can you imagine the BRAVERY to stop a stranger, thrust a stapled packet into their hands, and ask them to not only READ your work, in FRONT of you, but then give you “whatever you think it’s worth” as payment?

He was the bravest man I’ve ever met. He died in June. Had a stroke in police custody.

Second. Auntie or Annie. Never sure, she spoke a bit mumbled. The pup’s name was Fifi, tho. That much I do know. She was a crackerjack. Lived in a broken down RV in SoDo. Died because the visiting nurse program she relied on was cut back due to the virus. She wasn’t found for over a week. Fifi died with her, or well, more likely, sometime after her.

I miss you, Annie, and I’m so sorry I never took the time to get to know you better. A 75 year old living on the margins. I’m sure she had an amazing story.

Third. Derek. Busked at the Center. He told me he’d been ‘up and down the world’, sticking mostly to the coasts, for twenty some years. He was always ‘just a week’ away from joining a band, going into rehab, finding an apartment. The first time I met him, he gave me his coat against the cold, it was an April morning and it was foggy and miserable. He was playing ‘warm up’ at 8 am. Another busker there was playing the saw, and the combination of that unearthly sound and his acoustic strumming was magical.

He died in a tent because he couldn’t get admitted for a septic infection of his heart muscle without a ‘current covid test’. He had no car and no way to get to the testing center, early days, it was in Kirkland. He died the day I watched a video of nurses happily doing the ‘safety dance’ to show people how to wear masks. He died alone. Nobody was singing for him.

Fourth. James. He was a flower child born 30 years too late. His smile would light up a room. He played Hendrix for me one night down on the Waterfront on a broken guitar with only 4 strings and he slayed it. His life was always a little psychadelic. He traveled with Roxy, his pup and muse, who used to sleep on my backpack while I listened, talked, took pictures. He told me once “Get good shots, I want my dad to see them someday when I’m famous”. He never told me his dad’s email, though.

You’re famous now, bro. Fly high. Died in July, of an overdose. Intentional? Accidental? No one knows. He was alone.

Fifth. Jose. Had a radar connection to me by some weird Seattle magic. He would show up abruptly at my side nights when I walked through Pioneer Square. “Little Miss, don’t be alone here after dark, please!” No matter how many times I told him I wasn’t afraid, he’d walk with me, bumming cigarettes and cracking bad jokes. The last time I saw him, he was so happy and excited, he’d gotten his license to sell the Real Change. Was going to make enough money to get a room, he said.

Died in July also. Probably overdosed, maybe his heart. He wasn’t found until August, the heat had changed things a bit.

Sixth. Azzy. They were special. Always wore a scarf with stars on it. Lugged a bass around, read tarot cards, composed street poetry and gave ‘advice to the lovelorn’. So brave and so proud and so very free.

Dead of an overdose. Probably accidental. Fentanyl was going around.

I miss you, Azzy. You were the best.

These are the casualties of this year. A year where we closed out the poor and the disenfranchised and Amazon made $2billion in the first two weeks of the pandemic and nurses danced in empty ICUs and politicians argued if $600 wouldn’t make all these poor people lazy.

A year when the last 5 photos I sold were used for friends’ memorials.

A year when I cut a lot of people out of my life because when I cried for my friends I was being melodramatic and ‘didn’t understand’.

There are more, there’s Chastity, and Drummar (who played with James down on the waterfront) and there’s Li’l and the Mayor of Belltown (who could free form recite verse - in proper iambic pentameter, no less - for $10 or $5 or a cigarette). There’s Slim who fixed bikes up in Fremont and Marda who sat with friends through bad trips.

And nobody cares, and that hurts. A lot.

So tonight, when you go ‘hurrah! out with the old year!’ i want you to take a look around and see the empty spaces in the crowds, the same ones I see, where beautiful stars used to shine.

And for the love of god, let’s stop letting each other die. Please.

Happy new year all, may whatever gods there are have mercy on us all.

#annoying personal details that can be skipped

8 notes · View notes

mango-da-dango · 4 years ago

Text

Predatory

Hanamaki Takahiro x fem! reader

Warning this story includes murder, violence, mentions of gore and cursing, if you are not comfortable with this, please don’t read, however, if you still want to read, take care of yourself

Second person Pov

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“Hanamaki! I’m going to be late! Do you know where my tag is?!” You yelled frantically looking for the stupid piece of plastic on your stupid lanyard. You ran out of your guys’ room and rushed downstairs.

“I found it!” He yelled from the end of the long hall. He screeched, throwing it towards you, “YEET!”

“Thanks! I love you, Astaxanthin hair!” you yelled back rushing out the door and hopped into your car, and sped to your work. Hanamaki watched as you drove off, your car growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared into the distance. He sighed and turned around, looking at their messy house.

“Welp better clean this up…” He thinks bending down and picking up a pillow you threw across the house looking for your tag.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walked through the busy hallway putting on your white long coat and a pair of safety goggles, placing them around your neck. You saw one of your coworkers waiting for you at one of the corners. A medium height brunette named Oliver waved over to you, “Yo! Over here!”

Oliver was a fairly nice dude, he was even considered the company’s reliable brother. Catching up with him, you two rushed to the presentation room, while running he asked "What's up? You're not usually late to these kinds of things, did something happen?"

"Ah, the power got cut off in the middle of the night, cut off my alarm and a clingy boyfriend not wanting me to leave the bed," you said in between breaths, you wished you spent more time maintaining your stamina after you graduated from high school, but with all the studying and test you did in college, more tests and projects now, you never really had to do any fast sprinting...maybe the occasional lab explosion, but that was rare. You two arrived at a pair of large metal double doors you swiped your card, allowing you access. The doors slowly opened and let you in. The room is filled with tables full of notes and beakers. Many of your fellow scientists had been crowded up around your guys’ latest experiment.

“Ah~ Late to your own presentation I see.” An annoying voice snided. You groaned in annoyance and gave him a crooked smile while an irk mark appeared on your forehead, "What? You were caught up with something back home?"

“Hello, Derek. Yes, yes I am, I was busy doing something so I got held up for a bit, fucking asshole” you snapped, whispering the last part under your breath. He laughed mockingly before walking away. Mumbling about how annoying he was but unfortunately, you were partnered with him.

Making your way to the middle of the crowd and near the announcement desk you coughed gaining everyone’s attention, the smart board turning on and presenting the blueprint of your project "As all of you know we have been working hard on our current project, long hard hours of work and progress has been put into this and let me tell you, my fellow scientists. Our work will not be all for nothing, because it was a success!"

You beamed pumping your fist up and everyone cheered in glee and some throwing papers into the air. Everyone celebrated and some of the company couples kissed with tears in their eyes. After many long hours of torturous work was finally done and we would go down in history as people who changed the world for the better. One of your coworkers, a blonde woman named Annie smiled and patted your back and congratulated you.

"You did good, Y/n. Thanks for bringing us together," she thanked, the poker face never leaving her face, but her eyes sparkled with excitement. You could only stare at the blonde, awestruck. Did she really just show a tiny bit of emotion? Towards you?! This was rare and you were savoring every moment of it.

"ANNIE! THANKS TO YOU WE WOULD OF BEEN STUCK ON THE FIRST STAGE! THANK YOU!" You sobbed pulling the woman into a strong hug, she froze and tensed up before easing and patting your back awkwardly, saying it was no problem. Were you a slut for usually cold people warming up to you? Yes, yes you are.

All the cheer and happiness was cut short when 4 loud bangs echoed through the room and screams of pure horror replaced the joy. You felt waves after waves of pain surge through your body. You screamed in pain and darkness started to engulf your vision. Smoke started to fill your senses and all you heard were piercing screams before you blacked out.

Third-person POV

Screams were heard and the people on the floor underneath the lab grew scared and called for security. When they reached the double doors and entered the room they were greeted by something bizarre. The room was absolutely destroyed, tables broken and flipped, glass broken was scattered all over the place, and papers ripped and dirtied.

Most of the people there were gone, a total of 16 scientists were in the room, but only 4 people remain and all of them were knocked unconscious. Steadily creeping up to the four survivors cautious of their situation, they stopped when they saw the blonde named Annie, flinch, her shoulders started to tremble and so unlike her, she laughed. She turned around staring at them with demented-looking eyes. Shivers went down their spines as it was unusual to see her having more than the usual bored-looking expression on her face. So to see her laugh intensely after the lab was trashed and with eyes like those made them sick to their stomachs and her laughing had caused the others to stir up.

The first one was Oliver, he looked over to where the security guards were standing. His eyes were the same as Annie's, demented and insane. His expression darkened and his breathing was heavy. His brows furrowed and he let out a low growl and glared at the guards with piercing eyes that seemed as if they were able to cut through steel.

Then it was (Y/n)’s turn to wake up. Like Oliver, she was panting heavily with haunting eyes, but in comparison to him, she was even more insane. Her eyes seemed more intense and looked like they held all of the world's sins and tragedies and she looked hungry. As if she hadn’t eaten in forever. The woman made an effort to stand up, she limped and wobbled as if it was her first time attempting to get up.

While that was happening the last survivor, Derek, stared up at the ceiling until an overwhelming feeling of blood lust washed over him. He smiled sinisterly and grabbed a metal leg chair and bashed it over one of the guard's head killing him instantly.

“Fire!” The guards yelled and bullets started to rain all over the room aiming at the sadistic survivor. The sound of constant gunfire made the survivors more agitated. They all growled clutching their heads shrieking and doubling over in pain. They shrieked even louder until something snapped in them and they lunged towards the guards and killed them with their bare hands.

One of the guards managed to escape their wrath and hit an emergency lockdown button. The loud sirens of the building traveled through the entire building. They all growled harder and pain rang through their ears. Derek couldn’t take anymore and swung his weapon towards Y/n. Causing her to lose her balance she tumbled backward, then angrily she lunged and kicked him in the stomach with the strength that could compare with a three-hundred-pound weight being thrown at you.

She clawed at him and tried to rip his eyes out, but he got the upper hand and bit off a part of her shoulder, and slammed her head against the floor knocking her out. Oliver didn’t take this too lightly and kicked him straight on the back of his head. Derek stumbled before grabbing Oliver’s leg and flinging him over his shoulder, crashing into a nearby table and began to beat him mercilessly.

While all of this happened Annie got up still laughing and stumbled out, hugging herself. While walking she found one of the company’s interns looking at her in concern, they rushed to her side, “Ms. Annie! Do you need help? You’re injured.”

She leaned into their chest and wrapped her arms around them before grabbing a tight hold of their neck. The poor intern tried gasping for air but to no avail as Annie’s slim fingers trapped their neck preventing any air from coming back in or out. She laughed lowly, the soft giggles spilling out. She stared into their eyes intensely, they were about to pass out until a figure knocked her out by chopping the back of her neck. The intern breathed out huffing and looked at their savior. It was one of the more experienced security guards.

“Get out and look for somewhere to hide, four scientists have gone insane.” He warned pushing them into the direction of the exit. The intern nodded and left. The security guard looked around for more wandering people before he bumped into a frantic redhead, He immediately recognized her as one of the science assistants.

“Mr Takaoka! Please you have to help them! I saw the scientists get attacked by a strange man! Now they’re going insane and hurting each other! Please you have to help Ms Y/n and Mr Oliver!” They cried, tears pricking the corners of their eyes. Takaoka the security guard told the poor girl to calm down and explain what was going to happen.

“Look, the Emergency siren has been set off, we will take care of everything, just go downstairs and find a safe place to hide, ok?” He assured the assistant, she nodded and then left. Once seeing that she was gone, he took out his radio and called for backup.

After rendezvousing with his team they made their way to the danger zone. Lining up against the wall they prepared with tasers in guns in hand. They opened the door and saw the two men fighting savagely as if they were animals in the wild, their uniforms were ripped up and bloody. Bruises and lacerations littered their bodies as they continued to fight all while Y/n was passed out in the corner.

“Restrain them!” Takaoka yelled, he aimed the stun gun and fired at the two with the others following soon after him. The targets landed and electricity surged through their bodies and mass amounts of pain engulfed the two as they screamed in pain. Stumbling, Derek grabbed hold of the slab of metal and swung at the security guard. Takaoka easily dodged and chopped the side of his neck, knocking him out.

Last was Oliver who just seemed to glare at the knocked-out scientist, gripping his arm. Two of the security guards tried approaching him, but he growled and started thrashing around and wobbling around Takaoka snuck up behind the man and knocked him out.

“Bring them to a medical confinement room with a one-way window, we need to find out why they’re acting like this.” He ordered. The guards agreed and began moving all the unconscious scientists to their designated cells.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The four scientists were secured in separate chambers all knocked out and handcuffed to their beds. The redheaded assistant was trembling in her shoes as she stood outside Y/n’s room, looking through the one-way window she was shocked at how much damage was inflicted upon her. She racked at her brain trying to think of what to do next. Then a thought came to her head.

“ I should inform her partner about this!” She thought, pulling out her work cell and dialing the pink-haired man’s number.

Ring! Ring! Ring! “Hello?” a voice picked up on the other end.

“Mr Hanamaki! This is Ms L/n’s assistant! Something bad has happened here, and we want you to come here right away!” She informed trying to sound professional, but the panic and dread were clear through her trembling voice.

“Something happened to her?! Ok, I’ll be right there.” He said before the phone flatlined. The shaken assistant sighed and looked into the room once again, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Hanamaki rushed all over the place looking for his keys stumbling out the door with his shoes on the wrong feet, he got in the car and drove off. Normally he was a good driver, but his girlfriend's life was probably at stake, how could he possibly think of anything else but her right now? Thoughts of all the worst-case scenarios flooded his mind What if there was a gas leak that was potentially deadly? Did an explosion happen? Did an experiment backfire? Honestly, he worried about her all the time, with the job she has, anything could happen.

After almost running over a trash can and turning a sharp corner that almost got him arrested he finally reached the facility. He checked in with the receptionist at the front desk and is now climbing the mountain of stairs trying to reach the top floors when a loud boom almost made him fall.

“What was that!?” He thought, even more thoughts came rushing into his head, the sirens and emergency announcement didn’t help either.

“Attention all visitors and faculty members, please exit the facility at once. There is an emergency and all residents need to leave the building immediately.” those lines were repeated over the already loud sirens and a wave of people came flowing down the staircase. Chaos spread as all of them pushed each other, trying to escape the building panicked but Hanamaki stayed persistent looking for his lover.

After a while of struggling he reached the 43rd floor which is where Y/n was supposed to be. He ran down the empty hall looking for her when one of the rooms exploded and sent a giant slab of glass his way, slicing the side of his arm. He groaned, calling your name and clutching his wounded arm until he reached your room, but all he saw was that it was empty and trashed.

“Y/n! Y/n! Where are you!? I’m here!” He yelled, avoiding the wrecked furniture in the halls. A pair of staggered footsteps resounded through the halls, Hanamaki’s head whipped to the source of the sound hopeful, “Y/n!”

“Hehehe~ Looking for your girlfriend huh, pinky~” Derek laughed condescendingly, in his hand he had a metal pipe covered in blood, his face looked psychotic as a wide and sinister smile was apparent. The creases from the painfully looking grin were very prominent and resembled the folds in the fabric when circled and bunched together, but what really got Hanamaki freaking out was the look of bloodlust in his eyes, they were almost predatory like.

Stepping back, the pink-haired man realized he was at a disadvantage, he knew very little in self-defense, had an injured arm, and was pitted against a deranged sadist armed with a metal pipe. So yeah, this was really bad for him. Hanamaki tried thinking of a way to get out when he heard rapid footsteps coming closer, and the sound of feral growling roamed through the halls, his eyes widened hearing the familiar voice. He gasped, “Y/n!”

Then, a loud crash erupted and glass shattered everywhere and a small figure crashed through a glass door and attacked the deranged madman, knocking the pipe out of his hand, you growled smashing your elbow into his face. He grabbed your arm before throwing you across the room, crashing into the wall, grabbing a nearby plant, you hurled it at him before tackling him. You wrestled and bit him. Growling, you rolled the man over before you were able to force him into a nearby room and pushed large groups of debris, locking him inside.

You stopped and stared at the door, breathing heavily, he was not a threat anymore. Vivid images of his deranged face while you were fighting flashed through your head. You growled as the scenes in your head grew more bloody and gruesome until eventually, all you could see was the color red. The screams in your ears began to grow louder as you scratched and you hit at your head, desperately trying to get it to stop, when you heard someone yell, “Y/n! What do you think you’re doing?! Stop!”

Hanamaki tried to run to you when you growled and lunged at him first. He was caught off guard and his head hit the floor as you two fell and pinned him down, growling you were about to attack when the screams began to get quieter, the visions of blood grew fainter and now you could see him clearly, his light skin covered in his blood and dirt, his pinkish-brown hair tousled and dirtied by the crumbling building, his eyes were closed, but somehow you knew they were a nice shade of brown. He seemed familiar to you, but you couldn’t remember what or who he was to you, but all you could feel was a sense of relief when looking at him, your eyes traveled down, looking at him when you saw his injured arm.

You felt a pang in your heart, not knowing what the emotion was, but it didn’t feel good. It made you feel bad. You removed your hand that was pinning him down and you grabbed your jacket and you tried holding it against his wound. You whimpered as it stopped only a little bit, but the red liquid stained the scuffed fabric, it made you panic when you realized it wasn’t stopping. You whined pathetically trying to add more pressure.

Hanamaki looked at you in confusion. What were you doing? Why haven’t you spoken to him yet? Why were you whimpering? Why did you remind him of a small child or a puppy that has gotten in trouble? His head started spinning, his vision blurring, and his eyes starting to get heavy. He couldn’t tell, but his eyes closed and he slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N!” Hanamaki yelled, sitting up, panting, and sweating. He looked around expecting your guy’s bedroom with you sleeping soundly next to him...but you weren’t there. All he saw was white walls, white ceilings and machines hooked up to his arms, the beeping consistent, showing he was very much alive. He looked around, seeing he was in a hospital room, confused why he was there and not in bed, cuddling with you. He grabbed the remote next to his bed and pressed the call button and he screamed, “Where’s Y/n?!”

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu hanamaki #x reader #haikyuu!!#hq hanamaki #hanamaki takahiro

6 notes · View notes

jyndawn · 5 years ago

Text

» DENY

Summary: You come home to find your mate in heat and being the good provider you are, you help him through it.

Pairing: Ben Solo / Reader

Word Count: 2,465

Rating: E

A/N: Re-uploading a gift fic I wrote for my dearest Hoppo @callmehopeless, who loves Omega!Ben.

A yawn escapes you as you walk through the door. You’re exhausted, both mentally and physically. The workday has taken a toll and you’re glad you have tomorrow off. If you had to work another insane shift like that, you’d be tempted to fling yourself out the window and call it quits. Ben would like that no doubt. He’d been insisting you find a different job for a while. He worries over you so much, your sweet Omega.

You drop your things on the table on your way to the bedroom. You’re dying for a nap and Ben wouldn’t be home for another hour or so. Hopefully, he’ll let you sleep the rest of the day through but you doubt it. He’ll insist you eat, take a shower, let him take care of you. And of course, you’ll agree because how could you ever deny Ben?

The door to the bedroom is ajar. It’s odd; you always close it on the way out. Annie — Ben’s troublemaking cat — would wreak havoc otherwise. Once Annie had gotten tangled up in the window blinds and screamed like a banshee until someone came to her rescue. Ben found it amusing but you did not. You always made sure to keep it closed ever since.

Then you hear it: a drawn out groan and then your name is called. It takes a moment for you register whose voice it is. Ben. Is he home sick? Frowning, you peek through the crack in the door open and find the bedroom dark.

“Ben?” you whisper. He doesn’t answer but you hear shifting on the bed. Another groan. He sounds like he’s in pain.

You nudge the door open and light from the hallway pours into the bedroom. What you see on the bed almost makes your heart fucking stop. Your mind can only process what you’re seeing in pieces; Ben laying on the bed, naked. His hard cock bobbing against his stomach, dripping slick onto his skin. He takes up the whole bed and when he kicks his feet out, they dangle off the edge. You can see how the muscles ripple with the slightest movement. You can see the way his cock twitches as he takes it in his hand.

Ben is so far gone that he doesn’t even notice that you’re here watching him pleasure himself from the doorway.

Ben winces, his plush lips trembling as he pumps his cock at a punishing pace. The slap of skin and his moans is all you hear. There’s so much slick trickling down his length, coating his hands and thighs. You’ve never seen him produce this much.

Ben, your mate, your dearest love is in heat.

“Ben.”

Ben’s head snaps up, his eyes locking with yours. You notice his eyes are red-rimmed and thick with tears. He takes a deep breath in, tastes the air. Your scent. He chokes on his breath. “You’re here, oh god—“ his body jerks, tensing; his cock twitches before slick spills from the head. “Fuck!”

He throws his head back against the pillow, mouth open in a silent scream. He’s cum just from your scent alone. Incredible. There are no other words to describe it. You feel dizzy and you lean against the door frame for support as you watch him. You take a deep breath in.

His scent is everywhere; stuck on the roof of your mouth, etched into your skin, coursing through your veins like the sweetest poison. You’re already becoming wet, already starting to feel the ache pulse in your cunt. It hurts so good, like nothing else you’ve ever experienced. Only Ben could make you feel this way.

Your Omega.

“Fuck, I can’t take this any—“ he chokes on a sob, his head lolling back on the pillow. There’s so much slick dribbling off his cock. His thighs are absolutely coated. Ben still won’t stop pumping his cock. “I need — I need you so...so fucking much.” His breath hitches, voice cracking. His glassy eyes locked on you. “Please, Alpha, please. Help me.”

How could you ever deny him?

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly, and shuck your trousers down. Why did you wear so many goddamn layers today? It’s almost violent the way you tear away at your clothing. Like you’re this wild and frantic thing. The air on your naked skin is soothing and when you climb onto the bed, you can feel the slip and slide of your own slick between your legs. Ben swallows thickly, his eyes fixated on your cunt.

“I need to taste you,” Ben says, his voice is full of reverence. “I want my — my mouth on you.”

You want that, too. You crawl up the bed and the tip of his cock grazes against your cunt. For a moment, you falter. You want him inside of you, filling you up, up, up. Ben’s hands come up to grab your hips to still them, to nudge you where he wants you to be. Greedy thing. With a huff, you lift yourself up and swing your leg over so that you’re straddling his chest. His grip is bruising at this point. He pulls you down and when you feel the first pass of his tongue against your slit, your hands go to his hair, gripping tight.

“Yes, Ben!” you gasp, throwing your head back, your eyes squeezed shut. It’s electric, how good he’s making you feel. Shivers jolting up your spine, goosebumps prickling your skin, flashes of heat that make you want more. It’s so intense, so fucking good.

His hands move from your hips to your thighs and coax you to spread them wider. You can feel him licking you in broad strokes, his tongue circling your clit and sliding through your folds, so desperate for you. So shameless as he slurps at your cunt, not wanting to let a drop of slick go to waste. When his lips close around over your clit and suck, you cry out. You’re soaking now, a dripping mess that he’s more than happy to clean up.

“So good,” you choke out, rolling your hips gently against Ben’s face. You’re so close to finishing and he knows it. He knows your body so well. He laps up your slick and scrapes his teeth gently against your clit, making your body jolt. You nearly lose your balance but he easily keeps you steady. “Yes, yes — fuck! I’m so close, I’m so....nngh, Ben!”

His tongue jolts against your clit again and you cry out again, white stars prickling at your vision as you come, your body tensing and shuddering. You slump forward, gasping for breath, each drag making you taste his scent; hot apple cider, vanilla, cinnamon. It makes your body burn for more even as your hips still weakly roll against his face. You look down to check on Ben; his mouth and chin are covered with your slick. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, to clean himself as well as enjoy your taste.

“You still with me?” you ask with a smile, shuffling back down so you’re level with his face. You card your hands through his hair and Ben keens at your touch. Ben leans up to kiss you, his trembling hands reaching up to cradle your face. You moan, licking into his mouth, tasting yourself. You reach down to take his cock in your hands and Ben cries out, his hips bucking up for more friction.

“Alpha,” he mumbles against your mouth.

With no more preamble, you guide his cock to your slit and sink down. You choke on a gasp, delighting in the stretch and burn, feeling so full of him. Already you feel close to coming, your nose burning with the threat of tears.

“Oh, god, oh — fuck!” Ben gasps out a sob, tears streaming down his cheeks as you sink down the last couple inches and settle onto his lap. He can’t keep still; his body shudders and jerks at the slightest movement from you. It only makes you squeeze around him, coaxing more slick out his cock. You rest your hands on his broad chest to steady yourself and begin to bounce yourself on his lap. Ben’s hips rise to meet yours, desperate to chase after his release.

He’s so big that every thrust feels like it’s up to your throat. Perfect, he’s so perfect.

Ben’s openly sobbing now, his eyes squeezing shut and leaking fat tears which roll down his face. He looks so exhausted; you’re not sure how long Ben had been pleasuring himself before you came home. Or how many times he’d cum by his own hand, wishing it were you. You lean down to kiss his tears away.

“You’re so good to me, Ben,” you say, your voice wavering, “I love you so much.”

Ben’s hips give a sharp thrust up and a gasp overtakes you, your eyes squeezing shut. The tip of his cock brushes against a spot that makes you see literal stars dance in your vision. Ben’s hands go to your hips to guide you, to slam his cock up to hit that spot over and over. So eager to please you, to feel you fall apart on his cock. At some point, gravity tilts and you feel your back brushing against the bedsheets. Ben hovers above you, sweat and tears dripping off his chin. The pupils of his eyes are blown wide, no color to be seen.

And then his hips are slapping against yours, his pace punishing, and your legs instinctively wind around his waist, urging him deeper. Ben nuzzles into the crook of your neck, so close to your mating gland and you know. You know if he sucks on it, if bites on it, it’s game over. The euphoria will take you up so high that you’ll crash land hard when you come back down to earth.

And he does. His lips find purchase on your gland and his teeth sink down hard, breaking the skin. Your chest collapses as you let loose a scream, your body lighting up with pure ecstasy. You feel the muscles in your cunt clamp down around his weeping cock, milking him for every drop of slick he has left to give and cums with heaving sobs.

You’re not sure how much time has passed afterward. Neither of you wants to move, too blissed out to even entertain the idea. You’re so fucking happy being with him like this, his cock inside your pulsing cunt, filling you up. And, oh, Ben. Your precious mate is purring. You can feel the vibrations when his chest brushes against yours. He’s fallen asleep on top of you and while his weight makes it difficult to breathe, you can’t bring yourself to move him just yet.

You kiss the top of his head. Breathe in and out. Smile when he snuggles closer to you. Eventually, you drift off with him, happier than you’ve ever been.

A yawn tears from your lips as you stretch your arms above your head. It’s 5 in the morning and you’ve managed to untangle yourself from Ben to flee to the kitchen for breakfast. Ben will need something to eat and drink when he wakes up, especially since both of you slept through dinner. Nothing in the refrigerator looked appealing but you did have fresh blueberries and milk. You decided to bake blueberry muffins. It’s easy and quick to make.

After preheating the oven, you mix the ingredients in a large bowl and spoon drop batter in the muffin tin. You try to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake Ben and set off another episode. He needs all the rest he can get. His heats aren’t easy to deal with. They can last up to 6 days; more if you’re not there to help him through it. You want to be a good provider.

Strong, capable, protective.

You put the muffins in the oven, setting the timer for 25 minutes. You’re about to prepare the coffee when you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist. Plush lips brushing against your neck, so close to your mating gland. Ben.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you breathe out, your hands smoothing over his arms. He’s trembling. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

He makes this small huffing sound as he nuzzles into your neck, his tongue darting out to lap at your gland. Your reaction is immediate; your knees buckle and you sag against him. You can feel his hard cock against your back. Thick and hot and weeping for you. You shudder against him.

“I’m making you breakfast,” you tell him, trying to wiggle out of his embrace. It only makes him whine and hug you tighter. “Ben, you need to eat something. You can wait for about,” you glance at the kitchen timer, “twenty minutes.”

“I can’t — I can’t wait that long,” Ben’s breath hitches and cracks. He starts to rut against your back. “It hurts so bad. Please, please.”

Your heart fucking breaks into pieces seeing him in so much pain. You turn around in his arms and lean on your tiptoes to kiss him. He groans in assent, backing you up against the wall and you jump up to wrap your legs around his hips. His cock is pressed up against your aching cunt and it feels so good. Your hips start to rock on their own accord, seeking more of that delicious friction. You moan in tandem as you start to rut against each other in a frenzy. You’re so sensitive that it almost hurts but you can’t stop. You never want to stop.

At the same time, you don’t want to ruin breakfast. What a conundrum.

“I want,” Ben starts to say, his words starting to slur together. “Please, I want…”

“What do you want, Ben?” you murmur against his neck.

“I want to come.”

“Then come for me, Omega.”

And he does come, shuddering and gasping as his cock spills slick. You can feel it hot on your skin. Ben keeps rutting against you, against your swollen clit, and then you’re coming. You throw your head back hard enough to knock against the wall, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

The timer dings.

“C’mon, let’s eat,” you tell him, reaching up to brush away the hair from his eyes. Ben leans into your touch, greedy for anything you have to offer. “I made your favorite.”

“And then we can…?” he trails off, cheeks flushing bright red. He looks so bashful, so fucking adorable that you think your heart might explode.

“Yes, Ben. I promise.”

After all, how could you ever deny him?

#star wars #kylo ren #kylo ren / reader #kylo ren x reader #ben solo #ben solo / reader #ben solo x reader #a/b/o #my writing

46 notes · View notes

jawnjendes · 5 years ago

Text

it might be smarter to just cash out | shawn mendes

chapter 10/?, university au, shawn x goth oc

AN: depression sucks doesnt it laid ease! it really fuckin does!!!!

***let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist

masterlist | playlist (new song is added every chapter!)

Despite the weight pressing on her chest and shoulders, Annalise didn’t feel all that much in the following days. Her body went on autopilot, sending her to class in the day and putting her on the couch in the evening. She went to work at somepoint too. Everything in between was sort of a blur.

She came back to the dorm after her third or fourth, maybe fifth class, not really knowing or caring about the assignments or essays that were due very soon. Annalise placed her bag on the couch and looked at the TV; She wasn’t in the mood to play the Switch today. She wanted to sleep for a bit before work instead.

The door to her room was open just a crack, which would have seemed weird on any other day. Annalise didn’t have the ability to care as she pushed the door open, not expecting to find Stella in there, sat on the bed.

“What…” Annalise trailed off, her mind lagging and struggling to catch up.

Stella was looking down at her hands; She was holding three full pill bottles. Then she looked up at her roommate, hazel eyes serious.

“I didn’t wanna be right, but I was right,” she said as she got to her feet. “I thought you were skipping out on your meds, but I didn’t think you had missed three months’ worth of doses.”

For a moment, Annalise just stood there silently. She didn’t intend to miss taking her Prozac these days, she didn’t think anyone would care enough to notice. She blinked a few times like she was waking up from a death nap, and then her insides boiled hot. She stepped towards Stella and snatched the bottles from her hands.

“Why are you in my room to begin with?” she demanded.

Stella flinched lightly at the sudden change. She hardly heard a peep out of her roommate these days. “I… I’ve been worried about you.”

“So you think going through my stuff is gonna solve anything? God, I can’t trust anybody!”

“I’m sorry!” She stood up. “I didn’t want to do this either, but you’ve been so out of it that I don’t know how to talk to you anymore! And I’m not the only one who’s worried!”

Annalise scoffed and went back out to the living room. She grabbed her book bag and furiously shoved the bottles inside. She wasn’t even safe in her own dorm.

Stella followed her trail. “Shawn made me do it!”

That didn’t help in the slightest. “Why are you even talking to him?”

“Because you won’t! This was a bad idea, I don’t even know why I tried to help him since you guys broke up!”

That caused Annalise to look down and play with the strap on her bag. For once, she didn’t have anything to say back.

Stella narrowed her eyes. “You did break up with him, right?”

“I’m sure he got the hint when I cried and left,” Annalise said, snark still in her tone.

“Oh my god! You know that doesn’t go through his one brain cell! He needs to be told it’s over. I can’t believe you didn’t dump him after what he said to you!”

“It’s complicated, okay?”

“Why? Because of your separation?” Stella was confused, and a little frustrated. “Who even does that in this day and age? You just made yourself and him suffer unnecessarily! Why can’t you just put him out of his misery?”

Annalise couldn’t keep her volume down anymore. “Because he’s the only good thing that’s happened to me!”

The words rang in the room. The two girls were staring at each other, Annalise being furious and Stella being… something else. She broke the eye contact first and looked down.

“What about your family, who you didn’t get to see at all last summer?” she asked softly. “Or the fact that you made it to this university on a scholarship that you worked for? What about Patrick, Camila, and me? Don’t we matter?”

Annalise stayed quiet, knowing she should have dialed it back, but too stubborn to actually do so. She kept her eyes on her book bag, brows knitted.

“Having shitty past relationships isn’t a personality trait,” Stella said, and then she went for the door. She opened it and sighed. “And someone really wants your attention.”

There was a slight shuffling noise and then the door slammed. That was Annalise’s cue to finally look up. There was a large white vase containing a bouquet of dark flowers by the door, and it made her angry all over again.

“This motherfucker!” she snapped as she irritably got up to snatch the vase.

It was surprisingly light with the amount of flowers coming out of it. They were a deep red shade, almost burgundy but not quite. The petals were round and soft and smelled… chocolatey? Annalise would have been confused if she wasn’t so disgruntled. She noticed the tiny card sticking out from the top of the bouquet and was surprised to see the entire backside filled with scrawled handwriting.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I know these chocolate cosmos won’t change anything, but I hope it shows that I will make this up to you. I love you so much, and I’ll always remind you of that. -Shawn

PS they smell great but you can’t eat them”

Annalise scoffed lightly and looked at the bouquet again. As she pondered the ideas of what to do these things, there was a knock on the door. Did this boy have no boundaries? She ignored the sound and went to sit on the couch, placing the vase on the coffee table.

The knocking was as persistent as Annalise was determined not to answer. But then a voice came up with the sounds.

“Annie, open the fucking door!”

“Oh shit,” she mumbled, and hurried to answer.

Patrick was in the middle of blowing smoke out of his mouth from his pen. He quirked his eyebrows, noticing his friend’s rugged state. “You’re a fucking mess.”

It was true. Annalise practically lived in her skull and crossbones pajama bottoms and her Little Mix hoodie these days. But the comment still rubbed her the wrong way.

“Are you only here to criticize my appearance?” she asked, pointing daggers.

“Relax, dude. I heard about what happened with your singing man. Wanted to see if you wanted to talk, or if you needed a shoulder to cry on,” he told her.

There was a three second silence, to which Annalise replied, “Shut the fuck up.”

Patrick chuckled. “I know, I know. But I did wanna see if you’re okay. I got my pen if you wanna forget about it all.”

She stepped aside and let him inside. “How did you even know?”

“Alessia told me. I’m guessing Shawn told her.”

Both names sent her blood boiling again. “Neither of them can keep their mouths shut, I see.”

“Dude, it’s not a big deal-”

“It doesn’t matter! Wanna cut up some flowers with me?”

Patrick blinked, confused by the sudden change in topic. “Uh, sure. Should we go get some?”

“I have some here.” She gestured to the cosmos on the table. “And there two pairs of scissors here somewhere.”

“Uh, then hell yeah. Let’s do it!”

“I have to say,” Callie mused, “you’ve made a lot of progress, and I’m very proud of you.”

Shawn smiled, despite still feeling that horrible ache in his chest. Nothing could really mend that ache but time, according to Callie. After spending the last hour practically pouring his heart and soul out, everything Shawn was feeling about Ann was deemed completely normal. He’s just a twenty-one year old kid in love and very frustrated at the situation. That was why this would be his last therapy session.

“I’m glad I did this,” he replied. “You really helped me put some things in perspective.”

“Just doing my job,” she told him. “It was wonderful getting to know you, Shawn.”

He gave Callie a hug before leaving her office for the last time. As he walked out to the parking lot, Shawn felt just a little accomplished that he could cross one thing off the list he made in his head. All he had to do now was wait for calls back from 1) a live lounge downtown and 2) his boss from the flower shop. Shawn also needed to call his parents and have quite the conversation, but that could wait a little longer. What he had to do now was to meet up with Stella, the only person to return his calls. You could say this is what kept him going these last few days.

She told him over text that she would be at Camila’s dorm. Not surprising in the slightest, but it also meant that Shawn would have to make two stops in the building. He had been sending flowers to Ann all week, all sorts of black flowers that he ordered to the shop specially for her. Everyday when Ann was in class, Shawn would stop by and leave a different type of flower with another apology note. Today’s bouquet was an array of black velvet petunias.

Shawn pretended not to notice the pairs of eyes on him as he walked down the third floor corridor on campus. He knew he had followers online, he just never realized how much of that bled into his real life. He reached Ann’s door and left the vase at the bottom of the threshold. He didn’t bother knocking, for he knew that someone would open the door sooner or later. He knew better than to stay and wait too, because Ann knew how to hold a grudge.

He was back in the elevator as soon as he left it, except now it seemed like the entire floor needed a ride down as well. Shawn stood closest to the doors, his back to a group of first year girls, once again pretending not to notice the blushing smiles and soft giggles. After badly telling Ann he liked another woman’s attention, things like this just made him feel guilty.

Shawn was able to breathe once the doors opened one floor down. However, he only breathed for one second, taking two steps out of the elevator.

“Hey!”

Fuck.

He turned to find one of the girls followed him out into the corridor. His eyes glanced to the elevator, where the rest of the girls watched the interaction as the doors closed once again. Then he smiled politely at the one standing in front of him. “Hi.”

The blonde girl returned the smile. “Um… I know we’ve never met before. I’m Elizabeth, uh, Liz. I follow you on Instagram. And Spotify. Love your music.”

“Thank you,” he replied.

“I was uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?” she asked, tangling her fingers together, clearly nervous.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I’ve got a girlfriend.”

Her face fell rather quickly. “It’s that crazy goth girl, right?”

It was one gross feeling when Shawn called her that. It was something else when he heard it come from a complete stranger. He narrowed his eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

She knew she said something wrong and quickly tried and failed to make up for it. “Uh, nothing bad. Just… y’know, the way she dresses. Wearing pentagrams like it’s a cute accessory. And that look on her face when she walks across campus. It’s like she’s out for blood.”

Shawn chuckled. “You don’t know anything about her. You don’t know what’s underneath the dark exterior.”

“No, but I know lots of other people have seen what’s under those black clothes,” Liz muttered.

“Like I said, you know nothing about her. Do me a favor, don’t talk to me again.”

Without waiting for a comeback, Shawn turned on his heel and went down the corridor. He could have said so much more to that girl. He could have explained that Ann’s tough exterior hid her soft interior. He could have explained that pentagrams aren’t a direct link to Satanism. Disgruntled, he knocked on the appropriate door and Camila answered.

“Some people are so fucking rude!” Shawn said, unable to keep it in.

Camila nodded. “Hi. Won’t you come in?”

He stepped inside the tiny space and found Stella lying facedown on the bed. She rolled over upon hearing his voice and sat up. She did not beat around the bush for a second as she looked Shawn dead in the eyes.

“You need to break up with Ann.”

Shawn blinked. “Huh?”

Camila sighed audibly. “We went over this, babe.”

“Oh yeah, she’s been off her meds for three months,” Stella added with a mindless wave of her hand. “Anyway, she’s torturing herself and you with the separation thing, and that shit needs to stop.”

“Three months?” Shawn repeated. “Is she gonna get back on them? What is she doing about it?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Dump her.”

And she rolled onto her side again, facing the wall.

Shawn just stared at her, bewildered. His mouth was open, but none of the million questions he had came out. Then, Camila nudged his arm, and she gestured for the door. The two of them stepped out into the hallway.

“She got into a fight with Ann,” she explained. “It was so bad that I have to go to her dorm later to get her clothes and schoolwork and whatnot.”

He raised his eyebrows in shock. “Stella and Ann? The two wives fought?”

“From what Stella told me, they yelled. Ann said some really fucked up stuff.”

“What? No, Ann doesn’t yell. Unless she’s… off her meds. And… upset.” Shawn paused and leaned against the wall. He thought back to the arguments he got into with her when they lived together during the summer. He counted on his fingers back to the month it started happening, and what was happening at the time, and his stomach turned heavy.

He might have just figured out the cause of all this.

Performing in front of a crowd wasn’t as scary anymore. Shawn’s hands would shake and he would use the bathroom an excessive amount of times, but the nerves settled down once he was onstage/ This time he had the desire to run away the longer he stood outside Ann’s dorm with his guitar strapped around him. His face was warm and his hands were clammy as he clutched his instrument. He checked the time on his watch again, stalling because he knew Ann was home. He heard a couple of doors open, slowly gaining an audience. He had to do it, and he began to sing.

“I got my bags all packed and I’m ready to go I’m standing outside of your figurative door And I’m ready for the flight or to fall off a cliff But if it’s alright with you I’d rather not miss out on us”

Just about every door nearby had opened, except the one Shawn was singing to. He persisted, though, no matter how much it scared him. He was practically poking the dragon in its cage.

“I could use something good, I really need this to work out Of course with the way things are going, It might be smarter to just cash out But you’re on my mind… and the things that you say hurt most of the time But I’m sinking fast so it’s alright”

He kept strumming and singing, ignoring the excited murmurs coming from the onlookers around him. His eyes widened when he saw the doorknob suddenly move. More excited noises came from the unexpected audience when Ann finally opened the door wide enough to stick her head out.

She looked exactly the way she did when Shawn first laid eyes on her. Messy hair, tired eyes, tattered t-shirt. Shawn’s heart swelled and beat fast, trying to read the expression on her face. No single person has made him so nervous before.

“You said you never wanna be saved, well That’s okay because I wouldn’t know how Just know that the best I’ll ever be is whatever you make me And wherever you are You’re on my mind…”

Ann moved to lean against the door way; She was in her skull & crossbone pajama bottoms, something Shawn adored and secretly wanted to steal for himself. He also couldn’t help but wonder if she left the dorm today. What kind of state was she in?

Shawn skipped to the end of the song. “...I need you, I need you, I need you to know… I’m alright…”

The surrounding dorm residents applauded and cheered. Ann glanced around the corridor, staring down all the heads that had popped out of the doors. Then she found Shawn’s hopeful eyes and stepped to the side, nodding for him to come inside.

Several gasps sounded in the hallway as Shawn stepped into her dorm. He took his guitar from the strap and set it against the wall, noticing the vase of petunias on the table Just the one vase. What did she do with the rest of them?

Ann calmly shut the door. “Cute performance.”

“Thanks,” Shawn replied. “Look, I-”

She cut him off. “So what was the plan? Serenade me in front of a bunch of strangers so that way I’m forced to fall back into your arms to avoid looking like an asshole?”

And there’s that awful sinking sensation. Shawn’s had a feeling this would happen. “No, that’s not-”

“You know I hate public things like that!” she snapped, raising her voice. “It’s like you don’t even know me at all!”

Shawn was very taken aback at how quickly Ann got riled up. It’s not like he was expecting her to forgive him right away, but he wasn’t expecting this either. It was supposed to be a romantic gesture, like sending all those flowers that seemed to be nowhere in the dorm.

“Don’t yell at me,” he told her. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t realize-”

“You didn’t realize how important my privacy is to me!” She seemed to only get more pissed off. “Do you know how many people have asked me if we broke up? And I wondered how anyone knew about that, and then I figured you probably told-”

“And stop interrupting me!” Shawn firmly said, silencing her. He took a deep breath. “I was trying to do a nice thing, something to show you how sorry I am for what I said. But I don’t get why it’s such a big deal! Yes, I told a couple of friends about our fight because that’s what friends do! I needed to vent, I needed advice! And I know I shouldn’t have told Alessia about your health problems, and again, I’m so sorry!”

Ann looked down and cleared her throat. Her hands went on her hips. “I don’t want people feeling entitled to know my issues. People ask why I was in the hospital and then I end up having to share my entire history with what I can and can’t eat. Other people get confused and ask even more questions, and because it’s not something like cancer or an eating disorder, they don’t realize how invasive it gets. I get robbed of that privacy every time I’m at a restaurant with friends. I almost always end up being looked at like a sick person and I’m so fucking tired of it! So again, privacy is important!”

As if he couldn’t feel any worse. Shawn knew he was one of those people who asked a lot of questions back in the day. It was all out of curiosity, wanting to get to know the girl he was dating. Had he known she felt this way…

“I didn’t think of it that way,” he said after a moment. “I know you want to keep some things under wraps, I get that. But this relationship? That’s not just you, it’s us. I get a say in what we share too.”

Ann sighed and went to sit on the couch. She rubbed her eyes, exhausted and frustrated. “It’s like you don’t even hear me.”

“I don’t hear you?” Shawn repeated, chuckling in disbelief. “You don’t like people seeing you as broken or ill, so you choose not to share some things. And that’s also because your privacy gets invaded on a consistent basis. I hear you one hundred percent. The question is, do you hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying and what I want?”

She groaned into her hands. “There’s a part of you that still thinks I’m sick and sad and helpless. You still think I have my stomach cut open and you see it in your sleep, right? Shawn, you need to let that stuff go, you need to process the trauma.”

Her words were so mind boggling that Shawn didn’t know what to say. First of all, she was wrong. If anyone knew how much of a strong, independent lady Annalise Flores was, it was Shawn. She was the type of girl to not hold hands with her boyfriend to show that she was the least dependent person out there. She was the girl who punched guys in the face for harassing her. She was not the girl who was lying in a hospital bed, delirious from her fever. At least, she was trying very hard to separate herself from that.

“I did my processing,” Shawn finally said. “I went to therapy because I was having bad dreams and panic attacks. Now I have the tools to combat them. What about you? Did you process anything?”

Ann looked up, death stare locked on him. A nerve was struck, and Shawn decided it was best not to push the subject anymore.

He put his hands up in surrender. “I’ll go now. I just want you to know I’m always here for you. But if you wanna talk deeper about all this, Callie has an opening for a new client.”

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @poppyshawn @shawnsunflower @shawnvvmendes @shawmndes @someoneunimportantxx @yourdeflightfullyleft @havethetimeeofyourlifee @wronglanemendes @chillingbythesea @softmendesss @mutuallynotmutual

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #shawn x goth gf #jfc this was a lot #look at anna banana cut off her relationships lmfao #also peep the Very First chapter title tee hee

62 notes · View notes

megalony · 6 years ago

Text

Despite the risks

A follow on Ben Hardy imagine to my series ‘Swimming’ with Ben as a single dad.

Taglist: @marshmallowmae @they-call-me-peaches @likeit-or-leaveit @mcrmarvelloki @bensrhapsody

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knew she could see something was wrong, he was never good at hiding his feelings, his job being to create emotions instead of shutting them away like he wanted to.

When her hand cautiously reached out and held his own Ben curled his fingers around hers tightly, trying so desperately to rid his mind of the worries that wouldn't leave him alone no matter how hard he tried. Turning his head he peered over at her through the darkened glasses resting on his nose that hid the anxiety pooling in his blue orbs. His eyes almost watering at the comforting smile that instantly pulled at her lips despite knowing something clearly wasn't right with the man walking beside her.

Despite her comforting expression, there was fear rattling through (Y/n)'s head that she had the ability to hide, unlike Ben. As soon as they had left the swimming pool after their weekly session she had noticed the sudden change. The way that Ben couldn't stop jittering, his foot either tapping out a rather frantic rhythm against the floor or his hands rubbing together as he couldn't keep his focus on one thing in particular. In any other situation (Y/n) would have thought he had something important to tell her, or that he was breaking up with her. But that couldn't be the case, because it was clear there was nothing he was holding back from her and she wasn't sure if they were technically together or not so a break up wouldn't be on the cards either.

Yet she couldn't find it in herself to try and ask what was wrong, if it was important he would tell her and if it was worrying he could conquer on his own she didn't need to pry.

Today was clearly not like the other times they had met up, and the only reason she could think why was because this time Ben had asked her around to his apartment instead of simply offering to walk her back. After their initial meeting at the swimming pool (Y/n) had seen the single father there every week and had been conversing with him ever since. Swapping numbers and talking a walk with Lola and Annie after swimming, but this was the first time he had asked her back to his place.

Annie hadn't been well enough to turn up to swimming but (Y/n) had still felt the need to go, her mind not able to be the first one to miss a week of their usual meetups. Opting to meet Ben at the pool on her own as opposed to with her niece, meaning the both of them focused on Lola and were able to continue their usual chat. Now that they were making their way back something seemed to have changed, Ben was distant in his mind like he was fretting over something that (Y/n) couldn't work out and didn't have the courage to ask about.

"And this is it." Ben stated, forcing his lips to curve into a smile as he opened the apartment door, motioning his hand for (Y/n) to walk in first before he followed with Lola resting in his other arm.

Shutting the door he removed the glasses from his eyes, having no need for their protection from the press that hung around street corners on many occasions. A genuine smile pulling at his lips when (Y/n) held out her arms in a gesture to the eleven-month-old who was close to dozing off to sleep, wanting a cuddle before she was settled for a nap. Gently pulling Lola from his shoulder Ben placed her into (Y/n)'s embrace, watching her bounce Lola on her hip for a moment before turning to cradle her. (Y/n)'s hand resting delicately on the side of her head as she glanced around before moving to sit down on the sofa, swaying the little girl she had quickly found herself going head over heels for.

"It's a nice place- is this Frankie?" The excitement in her tone was unmissable when she noticed the beagle trotting over to Ben before going to see the newcomer. The dog craving attention after being left on her own for roughly two hours now.

Reaching out (Y/n) scratched behind the dog's ear, laughing when she hopped onto the sofa beside her before resting her front paws and her head on the stranger's lap. Looking up at (Y/n) with doe eyes that made her melt before moving to nudge Lola's leg as if acknowledging that she was back already.

"Yep, there's my other girl." Ben stated with a roll of his eyes at how Frankie just flopped down onto the sofa clearly showing she owned the place. "Would you like a drink?" He asked as he disappeared for a moment to discard his bag in the bedroom before reappearing again, smiling at the sight in front of him that was settling one of the many nerves bubbling up in his stomach. Nerves which he knew he had no reason to feel but that still didn't stop them from appearing and causing the many worries circulating through his mind.

"Sure."

Turning around so she could look to the kitchen (Y/n) took in the apartment before studying Ben for a little while. He seemed to have calmed down a little but the nerves were still clearly showing as he began walking over to her with a glass in each hand. Setting the glasses down on the coffee table Ben leaned back into the sofa when Frankie moved so she could clamber onto his lap, excitement clear in the dog's eyes as she moved around for a while before settling back down.

"Are you sure it's alright that I'm here?" (Y/n) suddenly questioned, her head leaning against Lola's though she turned so she was looking at Ben, worry now evident in her eyes as her expression was completely calm.

It felt like she was overstepping some kind of mark or boundary Ben had created for himself by coming over to the apartment. She hadn't noticed him be this worried or jittery in the short time that they had known one another and it was a little unnerving to see him act like this now when things seemed to be going well between them. She would never want to make him feel uncomfortable or overstep the mark, especially when it came to Lola because it was clear she was his world and (Y/n) wouldn't dare think of doing anything that would ruin or disrupt that.

A confused yet rather scared look took over Ben's face as he wondered if he was that easy to read. He didn't mean to come off as worried or like he didn't want her here in any way because he did, he really wanted to be around (Y/n) but he couldn't help but hold himself back.

"It's just... you seem worried now I'm here. I don't want to overstep the mark-"

"No! No, that's not... give me five minutes to settle her and then I'll explain I swear." The pleading in his tone and his expression made it seem like Ben was worried she would simply disappear when his back was turned or like she would be angry at him for something.

"Okay."

Ben nodded in relief before he gently scooted Frankie from his lap so he could stand, moving to slowly ease Lola into his arms before he disappeared from the living room down the corridor. Sitting down on the chair in Lola's room Ben pressed his lips to her forehead as he tried desperately to calm down his breathing so he didn't panic. There was nothing to panic about and he knew that but it wasn't helping him to know there was no threat, to know that everything was alright wasn't working and he hated it.

Running his hand soothingly up and down Lola's back, Ben rocked them back and forth in the chair very slowly, knowing it wouldn't take long for her to fall asleep since she had been closing her eyes every so often on the way home.

Ben wanted this to work out. He wanted to find the courage to be with (Y/n) and he wanted to feel able to do that and feel at ease, but he couldn't. No matter what he told himself about the relationship he wanted to form his nerves got the better because he had experienced how things could turn sour in a matter of seconds. Ben knew what it felt like to feel trapped, he knew what it was like to have to find a form of escape and he knew what it was like to have to make the hardest decisions for himself as well as for someone else. The last relationship he had ended with a fight over their daughter and Ben having to move to try and be able to move on.

He wasn't prepared to get into a new relationship for it to end in flames.

Feeling that Lola's breaths had evened out against his own Ben glanced down at her to study her features for a moment. Committing the moment to memory and checking she really was asleep before he dared move her.

Shifting back to his feet slowly Ben leaned over the crib to his left, easing Lola down and draping the cover over her frame before he reached and pulled the curtain closed. The daylight seeping through and allowing enough natural light into the room to see but not too much so she would sleep for a while at least. Ben stayed leaning against the crib for a few minutes longer than needed, trying to find the courage in himself to go back to the conversation that he needed to have. Knowing it wasn't going to be easy and that he wouldn't be able to tell her everything, but it had to be done if this was going to work.

Taking a deep breath Ben pushed himself from the crib, turning around and making his way out of the room, pulling the door behind him leaving it ajar so he could hear her if she cried.

"She settled?" (Y/n) asked, one of her usual smiles gracing her lips that made Ben's heart clench as he managed a nod in response. Forcing his legs to work so he could move and sit back down on the sofa next to her, seeing Frankie had moved to lay on her lap again. "Are you sure your alright?" Moving her hand that had been scratching behind Frankie's ear (Y/n) clasped her hand over Ben's, seeing he looked like he was about to burst into tears.

"I'm afraid." It hurt so much to admit something he never thought he would be saying. To tell the girl he had found himself falling for that he was growing anxious being around her wasn't a good thing and when he told her the reason why he dreaded to think what reaction he would gain in response.

"Why?" (Y/n)'s heart dropped at the shattered tone to Ben's voice as he refused to meet her gaze, his eyes dropping to their entwined hands as he let the tears cascade down his face like droplets of rain falling from the heavens. He didn't mean to scare or frighten her but he was so afraid, more than he had been in his life and it hurt more to know that he had no reason to feel this afraid. Ben was old enough to know that history was very unlikely to repeat itself especially in the way he was afraid it would and yet that did nothing to stop him from thinking maybe he shouldn't be in any kind of relationship.

If he didn't be with anyone, if he just focused on himself and Lola then he would spare his emotions the turmoil he had gone through last time, he would be free of any sort of pain and he would be at ease.

Ben didn't find himself yearning for any kind of relationship before he met (Y/n), he didn't find himself looking at anyone and wondering what it would be like to be with them until she walked into his life. Now he couldn't bear the thought of her walking out and yet he couldn't handle the thought of asking her to be more than a friend. He was stuck and it was because of his own fears that he couldn't find a way out.

"I really want to be with you, but I don't feel like I can. I... I don't like people knowing where I live and I get that sounds wrong, but I'm so scared it's unreal. If my ex finds out where I live she'll be here every fucking day and I'm not doing that again. I hate people knowing where I am because of her."

The only people who knew where Ben lived was his manager, his parents and his sister. No one else knew he had moved or where he had gone to because his anxiety wouldn't allow him to tell anyone. When he lived in his last apartment it held every horrid memory of his past relationship and Ben couldn't deal with that. He had moved to a different area of London to make a fresh start and if his ex found him he would surely feel the need to move again. She wasn't allowed near him or Lola and yet she had tried so many times to talk to him and get close to him. Ben panicked that if so many people knew where he lived then she would find out, or that if people knew they would turn out like her and start coming round like she had when she hassled him to talk or to see Lola.

"Is that Lola's mum?" (Y/n) didn't understand. Obviously, something horrid had happened for him to be so petrified that his ex would turn up at his doorstep like she had clearly done before. But by (Y/n) knowing where he lived didn't mean she would tell his ex too. "You don't have to tell me what happened Ben, it's not my place-"

"It could be. I want to be with you but she messed me up so much. I have Lola now, if things ended badly or like it did with her I could put Lola in danger and I know your not like that but I can't not think that way."

It was drilled into Ben's head to be cautious of anyone and everyone he could have a possible relationship with. He had stayed clear of people he found himself getting even an inch closer to because he feared that he could be in danger or potentially putting Lola in danger. He needed to make sure he didn't make the same mistakes as last time and the only way for him to do that was to be cautious of any relationship he may get involved in. (Y/n) didn't seem at all like his ex and Ben was so thankful for that but at the same time, his ex hadn't always been like that, if he got hurt this time he didn't know if he would be able to pick himself up again.

"I'm trying to understand, but all I can see is that you're scared I'll hurt you in some way. If we were in a relationship I wouldn't push you too fast, we could take things at any pace you feel comfortable with, but I'm afraid you're going to have to explain to me a little more of what you're afraid I'm gonna do." (Y/n) would work at any pace Ben felt comfortable with if that meant simply meeting up at the swimming pool every week and going from there that was fine. If Ben wanted to meet up more than that or go out just the two of them she would gladly do that too, it didn't matter to her how quickly or slowly they took things because it was about the both of them and they needed to feel comfortable with one another.

"I can't..." There was no way of explaining without tearing open the wounds Ben had tried so hard to heal. "She hurt me in ways I can't say and she put Lola in danger, she didn't want or care for Lola and I love her so fucking much. I told her to leave, I wasn't having it anymore... I called the police and everything and she came back every time. She turned up at one in the morning and at night and she wouldn't leave me alone. I got custody of Lola and she still came back despite a restraining order. I don't want to get hurt again and I have to protect Lola."

Ben needed to protect both of them from anything that could hurt them and a relationship was exactly what had gotten him into this state even if it gave him the gift of Lola. He stayed in an abusive relationship because of their daughter and then had to drag himself out to keep her safe.

Ben called the police more times than should have been necessary and he went through every fight to get away and make sure his daughter was with him every step of the way and it still hadn't been enough to get them truly free. Now he had that chance, he had moved away and he had Lola safe and sound. Another relationship could ruin what he had worked so hard to fight for and Ben wasn't risking Lola for anything in the world.

"If you don't feel comfortable or safe being with me I would never dream of pushing you into that. This is up to you Ben, if you want to stay friends I'm perfectly fine with that if you want something more you set the pace and you make sure you and Lola feel safe and secure. She's your daughter, I would never make you do something that would put her in harm's way I swear."

(Y/n) couldn't plead that she wanted to be with Ben and that he was being silly because he wasn't. He had been cruelly hurt and he had suffered something no one should ever be subjected to, so if he couldn't find it in himself to try and be in a relationship (Y/n) couldn't blame him for that. If he did actually want to try she would let him set the pace and the rules to make sure he was comfortable. Lola had to come first and that was perfectly fine, she was everything to Ben and (Y/n) could never try and put herself in between that bond that she saw every time Ben looked to his daughter.

There was caution in Ben's movements as he rested his hand ever so delicately to cradle (Y/n)'s face before he pressed his lips to her own, a feeling he hadn't felt for so long he had forgotten what it was like. A feeling that was foreign but so enticing at the same time it drew Ben in. His cautious yet gentle movements surprising (Y/n) as she couldn't help but smile.

Ben wanted, maybe even needed to try and make this work, despite the risks that he knew deep down weren't going to affect them.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben x reader #imagine #Single Dad #dad! ben

97 notes · View notes

parti-pooper · 6 years ago

Note

Headcanons for Stendy Family?

Alright, Anon! The time has come! OvO/ I don’t know if these are the kinds of headcanons you had hoped for - but I hope you can enjoy them anyway. uwu

Stan proposes to Wendy on the night of a wedding reception. Drunk. After puking. With no ring. Seeing his friends get married that day made him get mushy, and so he downed a bunch of liquid luck in the hopes of getting up enough courage to ask her to marry him. He thought it’d be romantic. Cue Wendy having to say nope after watching her beautiful, beloved boyfriend eject his guts and slur, “Wen-dyyy I larvuI lff fugignk larvaruu youuu,, marr meh ples marr meybeb…”

Wendy tells Stan what he did the next morning, and he gets embarrassed as he explains his thoughts last night. Wendy asks if he was genuine, and Stan says yeah, he really was. “Ask me again,” she says. “I don’t know,” he laughs nervously, “I’m kind of scared you’ll say no again.” He pulls at his hair anxiously and averts his gaze, but she grabs his hand and makes him look into her eyes. “Ask me again,” she says, and he can’t deny her. “Okay, uhm… Wendy, I love you. Will you marry me?” He winces, pained, while he waits for her response. She smiles easily. “Yes.”

And that’s how Stan proposed to Wendy, drunk, and then proposed to her again, hungover. Still a better love story than Twilight.

They have a winter wedding. It snows on the day, and so Wendy and Stan both have white flakes in their black hair in all their wedding photographs outside the church. His horrible friends make dandruff jokes, but Stan and Wendy are so happy, they can’t even care. They’re shivering and smiling the whole day long.

Wendy keeps her last name, which Stan is disappointed about after all of those years writing Wendy Marsh in the margins of his notebooks, but he respects her decision.

They honeymoon in Hawaii. They’re a basic bitch couple, at the end of the day. (Butters sets them up, btw. Mahalo Rewards Card, biiitch!)

They were living together even before marriage, so they just continue to live like that for the first year of marriage. It isn’t long before Wendy gets pregnant though (Marsh men move fast, f.y.i., they end up being the first couple in their group of friends to have kids) and they quickly realise that their one-bedroom apartment probably isn’t the best place to raise a kid.

They end up moving to a cramped little house in a different area of their city. Stan wanted to move somewhere with a big backyard and a nearby park and quiet, safe roads for his kid to play in, like back where he grew up. But they had to stay in the city while Wendy finished her PhD.

It’s hard to make ends meet while Wendy’s working on her thesis and a part-time job while pregnant (with all of the discomfort that implies), and Stan’s trying to make enough money for the both of them doing whatever job he can. It’s a very poor time for them. There’s a lot of stress and a lot of arguments break out between them. They go to bed angry sometimes.

…But they always make up eventuality. It’s the hardest nights that make them cling the closest.

Stan and Wendy end up getting two babies for the price of one. They find out they’re having twins, and their stress just doubles.

They work themselves to exhaustion trying to save up enough money for their stork delivery, taking extra shifts at their work. They sleep whenever they’re not working. They forget to eat. Some days, they don’t even see each other. When they do, they can’t even muster the energy to just talk.

Sometimes they forget what it’s all for.

They remember again when Wendy finally gives birth, and they have their beautiful twin daughters. Stan holds one in each arm, and cries the whole time. Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny arrive pretty much instantaneously, being that over-dependent surrogate family they’ve always been to him, and all just hug the ever-loving shit out of Stan and coo over their new nieces.

Wendy gets a visit from all her girlfriends, too. Bebe, Nichole, Red, Heidi, Annie, and more, all come bearing gifts like the Wise Men at Jesus’ birth.

Having twins is no fucking party. Have you ever tried to soothe two babies crying at once? Stan and Wendy can’t take turns; they both have to get up in the night when the babies cry. The sleep deprivation is real, you guys.

Wendy has to take time off from her part-time job due to maternity leave, and she has to finish her thesis from home, so she stays and looks after the twins in the day. Stan goes to work all day, and then he takes over at night when he gets home.

Sometimes Gran’pa Randy and Gran’ma Sharon will take the kids off their hands for a weekend just so that Stan and Wendy can catch up on some fucking sleep. Stan has never loved them more than when they do that.

The twins grow up to be absolute terrors. Neither Stan nor Wendy know where they got their mischievous side from, but boy did they get it. Like, why are they so determined to stick pointy things in power outlets? Why do they constantly want to put small objects in their mouths? Why don’t they want to wear diapers? Why do they like to scream at the top of their lungs when their mom is working? Why do they think the wall is the best place to draw on with crayons? (Uncle Cartman is so proud, btw.)

Stan and Wendy swear up and down that they are never having another one. Never, ever. Nope. Not a single one. Two is more than enough. No.

Two years later, Wendy is pregnant again.

She’s finally finished her PhD though, so they think it’s finally time to move to that huge house with the big backyard in a nice neighbourhood like they always talked about.

“No, Stan, we’re not getting a dog too. We barely just got the girls potty-trained, and we still have to take them out on leashes. That’s all the dog we need right now.”

She gives birth to their son, Thomas, not long after. And thank goodness, he inherited his father’s quietness and is not as unnecessarily loud as his sisters. He also inherited his father’s sensitivity, however, and he cries at near-anything. A very fussy baby. He lives in his daddy’s arms, and he is literally, actually scared of his own shadow. His big sisters bully him a lot.

But they won’t allow anyone else to bully him. Like their mom, they stand up against any tyranny (that isn’t their own). Also like their mom, they are ferociously intelligent, and their parents fear them for it.

All three children have the same black hair and blue eyes as their mom and dad and grow up to be the absolute spit of their parents.

When Stan and Wendy look at their children, they quite literally forget all those years of hardship they went through; because what is that suffering, now, compared to this bliss?

Stan is such a sappy dad, in fact, that he writes songs about his children, for his children, and sings to them on his guitar.

Then the girls try to steal his guitar and almost break it with their careless strumming because they can’t appreciate nice things when they’re, what, six? Seriously, Stan, what did you think would happen?

But they quiet down and listen when Stan sings them a lullaby at bedtime.

Also, Stan is a pretty big push-over. His kids just need to bat their baby blues at them and he’s wrapped ‘round their tiny fingers. An ice-cream? You got it, honey. A pony? Anything for you, sweetie. What’s that, now? The assassination of the US president? Just hold on, cupcake, I’m on my way to D.C. right now.

I swear, Wendy “Don’t Fucking Test Me” Burger is the only force keeping that family from falling to the whims of their terrible twins and the wants of their infant son.

She makes sure they brush their teeth and eat their greens and look both ways before crossing the street. She has full folders of their medical and dental history organised in chronological order. She already has a college fund set up for all three kids that she keeps money flowing into monthly. She helps them with their homework (mostly Thomas, the girls do fine on their own). She’s a fucking scary force of nature, man.

…But maybe she lets Stan get that dog one day.

Uncle Kyle, Uncle Cartman, and Uncle Kenny visit often, and bring their own kids when they have them too. They reminisce while watching their children run around, playing and fighting, like they all used to do as kids. And they spoil Stan and Wendy’s children absolutely fucking rotten, and that doesn’t fucking help, guys, stop bringing the girls candy when we’re trying to teach them that locking their baby brother in the pantry is bad!!

Anyway, they’re a beautiful fucking family. I’m happy for them.

#south park #sp stendy #stendy #stan marsh #wendy testaburger #thanks anon! <3 #these probably weren't worth the wait;#but i hope they're worth something to you

74 notes · View notes

team-free-squiggle · 7 years ago

Note

If your a fan of angst (because it is my guilty pleasure...) May you write an angst LAMP (platonic or romantic) that turns into fluff where they misunderstood Virgil protecting them from the "dark" sides and accuse him of one of them, but they find out they were wrong and try to apologise to him and the rest is up to you... You do not have to do this! It is just a suggestion!

Excuse you I will absolutely do this because it is a fantastic suggestion!! *Sends you so much love for this prompt because oml yeeesss*

Also, you know with me it’s gotta be romantic LAMP cause I love it too much.

Also if anyone has ever seen my Michifer stuff on Wattpad they would know that I too am a fan of angst no matter how much it hurts…

gah dark times anygay I love this so much and thank you so much for the prompt!

I Won’t Let ‘Em Be Lies, Lies, Lies, Lies Lies

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Summary: Above is the prompt

Characters: Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Deceit Sanders

Pairings: LAMP

Warnings: Deceit. panic attack, crying

“You say you’re trying to protect us, but you’re not, Virgil!” Logan, please. No…

“You’re just another Dark Side, like you’ve always been!” Roman, you still love me, right?

“Go back to the subconsious where you belong, Anxiety.” Patton… please don’t hate me again…

The thoughts Virgil kept to himself. The words that caused them. The hurt that caused everything.

Virgil panicked as he remembered what had happened earlier.

It wasn’t his fucking fault that Deceit had come into his room! It wasn’t his fault that the Side had pressed him up against the wall like that! Was it?

“Hey there, Annie.” Virgil flinched at the nickname, from back when he was known only as Anxiety.

From back when he was a Dark Side.

“Get the fuck out of my room, Deceit.” Virgil hissed. Deceit laughed.

“Now why should I? I’d much rather stay here with you, love.” Deceit sat on the bed, where Virgil was, rubbing his hand on Virgil’s thigh as he tried to squirm away.

“Get the fuck off of me.” Virgil hissed. Deceit smirked.

“No.” He let go of Virgil, who quickly stood up.

Big mistake.

“Why are you here?” He asked, on the verge of a panic attack as Deceit pressed him up against the wall. “Get. Off.” Virgil struggled, hard, but Deceit was stronger and bigger than Virgil.

The anxious Side couldn’t get away.

Deceit smirked, unzipping Virgil’s hoodie and throwing it off of him. Getting rid of a symbol that Virgil was a light side.

“I’m going to hurt you worse than you’ve ever been hurt in your life.” Virgil smirked.

“You hurt me a lot. How so this time?” If it was pain, Virgil was fine. Virgil would always be fine as long as Roman, Patton, and Logan were. Unfortunately, Deceit knew that.

“By hurting them.” Oh hell no. Virgil tripled his efforts, and got away from Deceit. He opened the door to try and run - fight or flight.

“I can and will get to them. And you will be powerless to stop me.” Deceit grabbed Virgil and threw him onto the bed, leaving the door open.

“No! I won’t let you! Get off of me!” Virgil growled. He flipped himself and Deceit over, punching Deceit before trying to get off.

“Virgil? Everything alright, love?” He heard his three boyfriends coming up the stairs, and tried to run towards them. But Deceit pulled him against the wall again.

“Let! Me! GO!” He screamed.

“Never.” Deceit smirked in victory as he kissed Virgil - right as Logan, Patton, and Roman reached Virgil’s room.

Deceit sunk out, leaving Virgil broken and unable to breathe, his boyfriends standing in shock.

And then they said those words. And they left him.

The people he loved the most had left him. When he had done nothing.

Virgil still couldn’t help the tears. It wasn’t his fault - Deceit had just been trying to hurt him - but in doing so, had hurt Roman, Patton, and Logan.

He, Virgil, had hurt the three people he loved most in all the world.

And so he cried, for believing that he was all alone once more.

It was a couple hours later that the three original Sides found their boyfriend curled up on the floor of his room, still crying and struggling to breathe.

Roman rushed to Virgil, picking him up and carrying him down to the living room.

“Hey, baby, breathe.” He whispered as Logan pulled Virgil into his lap and began carding his fingers through the Anxious Side’s hair.

Roman grabbed Virgil’s hands, gently massaging them, and Virgil let out a small shudder.

Patton wrapped Virgil in his hoodie, that he had found on the floor of Virgil’s room, and hugged his boyfriend close.

Virgil cried harder.

“Why a-are you all being so n-nice? Y-you s-said…” He cried some more as they all cringed.

Sure, Deceit had hurt Virgil. But they were the ones who had broken him - the one thing they had promised never to do.

“Because we found out what Deceit did. We confronted him, because we knew that you were the type to never do that to us. We found out - through his lies and half-truths - that he forced himself on you. That is the case, correct?” Logan whispered, not wanting to scare the already emotionally exhausted Side.

Virgil nodded, hugging closer to all three of his boyfriends.

“I love you all… He was just trying to hurt me by hurting you. It worked.” He chuckled, but it was without humor. Roman was the first one to kiss Virgil, after asking if his boyfriend was okay with it.

“I am sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it - You are a Light Side, just like the three of us, and I love you.” Roman held Virgil’s hands tighter, smiling shyly when Virgil thanked him.

“He’s right. I, too, am sorry - you did not deserve any of that after what you had been through. And I know what you’re going to say, that it happened because we thought something that wasn’t true - but that doesn’t make it okay in our eyes. We still need to apologize to you, because we love you, Virgil. I love you. You do nothing but protect us. And we need you.” Somehow, Logan said everything right, and all that made Virgil do was want to kiss him. So he did.

Patton was softly crying, too. “I swear I didn’t mean any of it, Virgil! You are amazing and I love you and you belong here, Virgil. Virgil, god, I love you, please don’t think I hate you! You are a part of our Family, of our relationship, and I need you here! I love you.” Patton was speaking to quickly, and crying the whole time, but somehow Virgil understood him perfectly.

“I’m not going anywhere, Pat. I love all of you too much for that.” With that, Patton was kissing him, and Logan and Roman were cuddling him, and all four boyfriends cuddled together the rest of the day.

Nothing, not even lies, could ever tear apart their Family.

(Sanders Sides)

@astraastro

@madly-handsome

@amber1594

@lie-lie-birdy

@thebaagelboy

@justanotherpurplebutterfly

@ravenclawunicorn1

@ako1209

@funsizedgremlin

@princessbelix

@water13girl

@romanasanders

@deathshadowrules

@virgils-jacket

@fandomsofrandom

@cochroachkappa-blog

@zoeyheys

@chipminkle

@6tick6tock6

@maizieandbirds

@panic-at-theeverywhere

@not-my-patton

@cookieturtleart123

@confinesofpersonalknowledge

@generalfandomfabulousness

(All)

@birdybabybird

@awesomelissawho

#prompt #sanders sides #unsympathetic deceit #lamp #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #hurt/comfort

56 notes · View notes

halsteadsis21 · 7 years ago

Text

Red Handed

This is my first Tumblr story! A request by etdancer! Hope you enjoy!

Anna’s POV Oh, how I detest Monday mornings! You see, it’s my job to open up the shop on the weekdays, which involves getting up at silly o’clock to get there. But still, a girl can dream of a sleep in, and that is exactly what I intend to do. I closed my eyes once more, imagining myself on a sunny beach somewhere abroad. Anywhere but here would be nice. I started to dive off back in to a dreamless sleep when a loud knock on my bedroom door snapped me out of my daze. “Annie!” It was Tommy “get out of that bed now! You were meant to be at the shop five minutes ago!” He grumbled. “Alright, alright, I’ll be up in two minutes” I replied to my older brother groggily, burying my head further in to my pillow hoping that he would leave me alone. “No Annabelle, get up. Now!” He said in his usual frustrated tone making me grumble “fine” I replied slowly dragging myself out of my sanctuary like bed, and in to the cold fresh morning air of my yet to be heated bedroom. Sitting on the edge of my bed I sighed, trying to prepare for the day ahead. After a few moments I got up from my bed and prepared for the day.

After I finished getting ready, I made my way down stairs and in to the kitchen where I found Tommy, Arthur, John and Michael sat at the table, Tommy immediately flicking his eyes up to me in a disproving stare. “You were meant to open up the shop half an hour ago” he said “now I’ve had to send Polly down there on her day off to open up, all because you didn’t get out of bed on time” he lectured. I sighed “i’m sorry ok” I defeated “it’s never happened before and it will never happen again” I promised. “It had better not” John warned making me roll my eyes “it wont, I promise” I said making my way across the kitchen to grab an apple from the fruit bowl. “Good luck facing my mother” Michael said “she stormed off in a right mood” he said making me cringe, “thanks for the warning” I said putting my coat on whilst finishing my apple and throwing the core in the bin “bye” I said as I made my way out of the door, receiving a chorus of goodbyes from my family on the way out.

Just as Michael had warned, Polly was In a foul mood when I arrived at the shop, sending me deathly daggers with her eyes as soon as I stepped foot inside. But once I gave her my best puppy dog eyes and promised to do her shift at the weekend she smiled. “I never can stay mad at you Annabelle Louise Shelby” she said cupping my face making me smile.

The rest of the day went by without any drama. Michael had come in to the shop earlier and informed us that the boys were all going out for a drink tonight, and invited both me and Polly to come along. So once it reached the end of the day I started tidying up the rubbish from the day whilst Polly got herself ready to go out. “You get going Pol I’ve still got a few things to sort out ill meet you at the pub” I said, smiling at how elegant my Aunt looked “are you sure you’ll be ok locking up by yourself?” She asked weary of my suggestion making me smile “I’ll be fine, go and start the fun I only have a few bits to do and the ill be right behind you.” She smiled as she walked towards me, tucking a pice of hair behind my ear “you are the most amazing girl I have ever met” she said kissing my head making me sigh at the words my mother figure had said. “Go on, I’ll be there shortly” I said rushing her out of the door making her laugh.

Twenty minutes later I had finished my work, so I made myself look slightly more presentable and left the shop, locking the door behind me. It wasn’t a long walk between the shop and the garrison, so I tried to keep myself busy, humming to myself every so often. “Well look what we have ourselves here” I slimy voice behind me sneered and grabbed hold of my arm, making me gasp and stop dead in my tracks “Miss Annabelle Shelby all by her self without the protection of her big brothers” he laughed as I turned to face the stranger. He was tall, about 6’2 and yet incredibly skinny and gangly, causing him to look extremely stick like. He had rotten teeth and enough booze on his breath to knock out a herd of elephants, making me cringe. I smiled slightly at the man putting on my bravest face, “sir, I don’t appreciate the way you are holding me” I said “i strongly suggest you remove your hand from my arm” I said slightly sterner. He bellowed with laughter and tightened his iron grip on my arm making me gasp as I felt my skin nipping between his long grubby fingers “and what if I don’t” he challenged “what is a little bitch like you gonna do” he said still laughing. My heart pounded in my chest. “Your family killed our Jonny” he stated tears pricking at his eyes “my innocent little brother, just your age he was, and they beat him to death” he sobbed with tears running down his face. He stayed silent for a moment before I saw the sadness change to anger in his eyes “you tell me why I shouldn’t do the same to you. You tell me I why I shouldn’t make them feel the same heartbreak as I did?” He asked shaking me by the arm as tears started to prick my eyes at the mans despair. I shook my head “because you know what it feels like” I whispered “surely you wouldn’t want to inflict such loss upon another human? You know what it feels like. Don’t be like them” I sobbed with tears pouring down my face like rain drops. Falling to the floor and letting go of my arm, he sobbed. “Be the bigger person” I said placing a hand on his shoulder making his sobs die down as he sighed. I stood up and started to walk away “not a chance in hell” he stated as he jumped off the floor grabbing hold of me by my hair and throwing me against the wall making me scream out, both in pain and surprise. Before I had I chance to stand, his gangly hand grasped around my neck, stopping me from breathing. I desperately gasped for air as I kicked and thrashed against his iron grip, like a fish out of water. I remembered what Arthur had always said to me and grew as much strength as I could, bringing my right leg back I kicked it forward between the mans legs, causing him to instantly drop me to the floor as he doubled over in pain. I gasped as the fresh Birmingham air once again reached my burning lungs, feeling a hand grasp my ankle I screamed “NOOOOOOO” as I tried desperately to kick his hand off my ankle with no success. He laid on top off me, suffocating me with the weight of his body “you wanna act like a little bitch, i’m gonna treat you like a little bitch!” He bellowed as his mouth came down towards me and started kissing and sucking at my neck. I struggled against him as I noticed a plank of wood on the floor next to me. I reached out with my right arm, a wave of relief crashing over me as I felt the texture of the sharp wood’s surface scratch the palm of my hand. Grabbing hold of it I bashed it down on to the back of my attackers head, causing him to go limp on top of me. I screamed and shoved his body off me, scurrying as far back as I could possibly get from him. My body hit against a brick wall, and I sobbed and screamed. Had I really just taken the life of this man? I rubbed my hands together, suddenly noticing the thick liquid upon them. I looked down. I gasped. Blood. Holding my hand up to the moonlight I took in the sight of the red substance that was coating my hands and dropped them in to my lap. Every emotion seemed to wash over me. I didn’t know what to do, should I be happy I just got away from the man that was trying to rape and kill me? Or should I be remorseful? I sobbed. Screaming to myself as I threw my head back against the wall, not caring who could hear. The world became a haze around me.

“Annie” a voice was calling, it was a voice I recognised, “Annabelle” the voice desperately cried again. Tommy? I tried to reply to his beckoning, but found no strength or energy in my body. But then the foot steps cam closer to were I was and a face appeared in front on me “Annie” it was Tommy “what the fuck happened? Are you alright?” He asked. I couldn’t reply. I brought my eyes up to meet his, and the back down to look at my blood soaked hands. A small whimper escaping my mouth, “come on, lets get you out of here” he said understandingly as he picked me up bridal style and carried me in the direction of the garrison.

When we arrived at the Garrison multiple people gasped at my bloodied state, “what the hells happened?” Michael asked as he shot up from his place at the bar, “It doesn’t matter, wheres Pol?” Tommy asked “she just popped back home to get her purse” Michael said with a frown “Finn, go and get your Aunt Pol, and be fast” Tommy ordered as the youngest Shelby shot out the door. Tommy carried me through the Garrison and in to the back room where John and Arthur were sat playing cards “what the fucks happened?” John asked slightly alarmed. “is she alright?” Arthur asked as Tommy sat me on a chair and I stared in to space. Expressionless. “She’s in shock” Tommy stated “Arthur” Tommy said in a controlled tone “the body’s in the alley at the end of the street, it needs moving before someone finds it” Tommy instructed as Arthur just nodded, knowing better than to ask any questions.

The eldest Shelby left the room as Michael entered “is there anything I can do?” He asked wiping his hand across his face,”yeah, go and her her a whiskey from the bar” Tommy ordered his cousin who looked surprised but complied with the demand. “Bloody hell, what some kids will do to get a drink, eh” John said whilst playfully nudging my shoulder. I could hear the words around me, every word that had been said since the incident. I looked down at my hands that were shaking like a leaf and let out a sob, yet still I was unable to fully react. I felt John put his arm round me in an attempt to comfort me as Michael re entered the room with a glass of whiskey. “Here get this down you girl” Tommy ordered “it will help with the shock” he said as I shakily raised my hand to take hold of the glass. Without a second thought about my actions, I brought the glass to my lips and poured all of its contents in to my mouth, allowing the liquid to burn down my throat. “She’s definitely a Shelby” Michael said smirking as he took the now blood covered empty glass from my hand.

After five minutes of silence Finn burst in to the room with Aunt Polly not far behind him. “Oh my poor darling” she said as she rushed towards me wrapping me in a bone crushing hug. “Right I want everybody out so I can get her cleaned up” she ordered to the three men who looked hesitant “we’ll be right outside, ok Annie?” Tommy asked as I slightly nodded. Twenty minutes or so later Aunt Pol had washed all the blood from my body and had helped me change my dress in to one that she had brought with her when she heard about what had happened. “There we go, its all gone now” she said as she cupped my face in her hands as she wiped the tears that seemed to be falling from my eyes uncontrollably. “I’ll go and get Tommy” she said as she exited the room.

Seconds later my brother entered the room, he stayed silent as he slowly made his way towards me, sitting down opposite. “Annie” he said “Annie, look at me” he pleaded as I hesitantly brought my eyes up to meet his “It’s over now” he said. I sobbed “B-ut th-that m-man” I sobbed “i-i k-killed h-him” I said looking down at my hands once again. “Annabelle, its gone” he said quietly “It’s over now, what you did, you did to protect yourself” he stated as I sobbed. He wrapped his arms around me protectively “I promise nothing like this is ever going to happen to you ever again” he vowed as he kissed the top of my head.

#peaky blinder imagine #shelby sister imagine #John Shelby #finn shelby #Arthur Shelby #Tommy Shelby #polly gray #michael gray #Peaky Blinders

185 notes · View notes

actingdeep · 4 years ago

Text

Jean & Cat

Give me your hand. Only give 'yes' or 'no' answers for now. We will go back later at the end. Close your eyes. I'm going to start by saying the Lord's Prayer. "Okay." That was all Lorraine could say these days. She would eat oatmeal when we set a bowl for her and she would smile. We put a red cigarette in her fingers and told her to inhale. She would cough twice in an elderly way, with sunken eyes staring straight forward, and she would smile. We shifted our intimate yet quaint and twisted car songs and dialogues to the back porch around 6 a.m., after tiptoeing past conked couple Jean and Ryan crashing on their living room floorbed, making coffee, using the restroom and watering the silly-looking dog. There is a very alien type of relaxation that comes with being the last ones alive from a late night civil war on your own good health, with everyone else defenseless and asleep like regrettable casualties. The horizon stretched and yawned. Past our feet, in the dew-covered grass, layed the sheepdoglike Lily, with her green bone flinging around her teeth. Cat had abilities within her revealing dormant truths and hidden pasts in others. I had amphetamines within me releasing all boring skepticism and reason. By the end of the night, she had given me a personal palm reading. The accuracy was daunting at first (and still is). It was a superstitious and almost laughable act, yes; but it was pinnacle altruism--and at that moment, after all these years, it was finally clear to me that she was my friend. I was feeling a little effete as a hidden star burnished the scale of an overripe and infirm world. Cat and I had inadvertently stayed up all night. We were either still drunk, or low-key tweaking, or probably both. Our eager spirits were about to be given another boost out of their usual pockets of time and space. We lounged with sleepless energy in squat gray outdoor chairs on the small back porch, with blowing trees and birds singing in the early summer morning. Jean had already long fallen asleep on her living room floorbed, and now that I finally had Cat out of the car, I could let my blood cool between easy nature and cheap science. The dome of the pipe we were smoking Annie from caught some outside debris from the wind that was blowing and made a slight brownish blemish on the inside, which made the taste of the rolling smoke a little less clean than the previous hits. Many a time when Jean and I were gulping down cherry-flavored vodka around this time six or seven years ago, in the bedroom right behind Cat's, when they still had their old house, I had never fathomed a table could turn so drastically: the table being my relationship with these two women--mother and daughter--over time frames scattered and separated by intermittent spaces of buildup and decay. The days when talking to Cat filled me with dread seemed like false memories when I looked at her now. I almost liked her more than Jean these days--a funny thought, indeed. "Are you still hungry?" "Okay." At 4 a.m. we were back from the bar, and pulled in the driveway of Jean's grandparent's house. She struggled to shut her car door and sauntered inside. I followed, but before I made it in the house, I heard my name called back from behind me from the driveway. I turned to see Cat gesturing for me under the dim car light. She was looking around in the car for something I don't remember what. I got back in to help her search for something likely of the highest unimportance. As we began to talk more, we ended up being in the car for at least an hour. When Cat begins to chatter with you, an angel should come down from Headache Heaven to give you a Valium and a bucket of popcorn. We hadn't talked very much all night, only because once she dropped off Jean and I at the bar, she didn't come in to join us finally until around the last half hour we were there, where I would eventually start a scene that would close the entire bar for the night. We laughed about that, and caught up with one another in general about the changes and differences in our respective current lives. Her overall pleasantness caught me off-guard, somewhat. As conversations in parked vehicles usually go, especially with our current bodily chemical states, we eventually graduated from serious discussion, to banter, to no words--just full duet performances to bands like The Violent Femmes and Fleetwood Mac, stridulate and true. This is nothing like using Tarot cards. Those things are complete bull shit. I am going to try to knock something loose here. They're screaming again: this time, passively-aggressively around the edges of the room, little hash symbols and asterisks and ampersands tunneling in the air and in and out of Lorraine's smiling ears. At first, the day was calm: quiet snores, with the T.V. playing The Price is Right, as some were still laid out on the floor asleep, some in chairs with coffee and paper, awake. The small house seemed much more open than it should have been. I watched the game show and sat on the couch next to Brenda, Cat's girlfriend, as she was scrolling her finger on a phone screen and grimacing a little. Jean's disheveled head was zzzing right next to my left foot. I put back large gulps of the coffee Brenda made me to put off my ineludible crash, and had cigarettes on the bright, thin clean carpet. Brenda started it; it was around 11:30 a.m. Grunting, she staggered over to Cat's floorbed to lean down, and WHUP!, smack her on her overturned body, making her yelp in a terrible way, like a little, running dog that pivoted wrong and twisted it's paw. Some moments you don't want to ever remember--that is--until you really can't. She had only been asleep for about twenty minutes, and immediately: "Fuck! What is...what is wrong with you?" cried Cat, still stridulate. "Who's all these motherfuckers in yer phone messagin' ya? Always fuckin' around on me, ain't ya? Don't give a rat's ass about me." "I don't talk to anyone, Brenda. I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!" "Ah, bull shit," waved Brenda, turning away like a troll. "Fuck you!" "Fuck you right back, bitch." "I haven't gotten any sleep all night, Brenda. I was up talking to Derek all night, and I just fucking fell asleep." "Well, good morning bitch!" And so on. This match lasted hours; piercing echoes branching off into littler sub-arguments (but just as loud) over other things they thought would be good also brought up, neither showing mercy, except to make a jeer and cackle at the other's expense. Dan had already taken Ryan to his morning college class and hadn't gotten back yet, so between sleeping Jean, contented Lorraine, and highly tired I, no one was attempting to dampen the vicious quarrel in any way. I was sitting quietly, looking down at my feet and Jean's stirring hair ball, not from lack of sleep, but from the plain child greenness of these two women. I knew Cat as a married woman to a husband, once. But no surprise came to me when I met her current girlfriend (womanfriend). I knew this was more of an emotionally-hinged relationship and sexually less so; only the emotions in use were nothing but petulant combativeness, desperation, and cold resentment; they were fools together. After a while, crash impending, I would simply walk outside, away from it all, until the screams muffled themselves in the distance. "Okay." Dan was the man of the house, and also Cat's dad. He was a few years shy of sixty years. Although I had never met him before, having stayed the night at his house, he was quite jolly and approachable. He smoked cigarettes with the front door open. His wife Lorraine sat by him in a low-back rocking chair, onlooking. The rooms of the house were typical in the grandparently sense: white-gold ceiling fan, porcelain figurines behind glass cases, mini fish tank, placemats on multiple kitchen tables, a smiling woman sitting in a smiling rocking chair, big television. The only thing out of place was the smoking; it was a subtle invasion of a seemingly innocent atmosphere, akin to squeezing your girlfriend's ass at church service. I couldn't believe I was smoking a square on a davenport. Did you know the dead see the future? Back in school, when Jean and I dated as teenagers, her mother Cat was in a seriously disobliging state--dependent on drugs like Xanax and methadone. She would stay in her room twenty-four seven and roar at us to turn the music down. She only left the house when absolutely necessary, and had a round, evil scorn forever in her floating eyes. She was ponderous, choleric and painstakingly contrary, instigating daily screaming matches with her husband, or daughter, or both. She was always in carping pain, and loved to spite her old pasts to herself in drugged, futile insanity. When she would bring her mom her dinner trays, Jean usually took accusation and insult as gratuity. On the occasions she was in good spirits (which usually implied she was unusually zapped), she would talk to you for what seemed like long hours about things like ghosts or glory days if you weren't careful to sneak past her bedroom door, which was permanently ajar, with a low, rambling sound leaking out of it always. I loved being in Jean's room more than anywhere in those days. I remember a pink sheet covering an overhead window making every movement and shadow a cotton candy daydream, sitting on a stack of two single mattresses, with us both leaning against a wall with blanketed legs and her kitten, soft and white between us, with secret, window eyes. And there would be Jean: beautiful and youthful in blonde and black and pink and brown eyes. She was in the school's color guard and I would watch her practice double and triple rifle spins in her backyard for hours, smoking dirt weed to her music playlists. We were underage drinkers; but she always had a guy to buy alcohol for us (to them, just her), and once he would drop it off, she would cutely thank him and send him away, bringing it into her room where I waited, and we would drink from the bottle, giggling; or, we would just stay in her room for hours to avoid Cat by playing music, taking pictures, or just making each other laugh hysterically in various ways. I hope I never forget that laugh. "Okay, honey." We carried our drinks over to a rounded booth in the corner and talked for a while, saying hello to the barkeep Stephen as we walked in, and to all the other puffy, smiling faces we recognized, but didn't know. It was just Jean and I right now, talking like we always could, no matter where or when we ever were. Apparently, Cat was sticking around the parking lot for a while to connect to the internet on her phone for something rather (or was she?), and selling soupcons of various pills here and there to her bar regular buddies, amiably, with wrinkled eye corners. Something is coming through. A man with a flattop military haircut. I also see an older man sitting in an easy chair. How well do you remember your childhood? Does the name Tom mean anything to you? Jean and I sat near the DJ booth, which wasn't really a booth inasmuch as it was a large man sitting in a folding chair with a laptop. We laughed, but were loving what he was playing. Her and I have always been able to listen to music together comfortably for long periods of time, often with naps and cool silences. In the moment, I felt that we were actually a good couple when we were seventeen, even though it only lasted a couple weeks, tops; but being friends was barely different, and easy to do. She had many boyfriends, one at a time, in constant replicating sequences--one, and another, and another. I never minded that--it is a task for most people to be alone. Ryan was her current boyfriend, but she didn't bring him to the bar--and not just because he was underage. She used men like a body pillow or an aspirin; leave them at the house and use them for comfort as needed (and they were always young). She was dull now. I had to entertain her because she was dull, and I loved her; but of course, in loving her, I was dull, also. After some rounds, we would smile more easily. I asked when her mom was going to join us, because, to this point, I really had no clue as to what Cat was even doing, us having sat there drinking, unjoined for an hour or two now. "She's in the car, smoking speed. That's her drug of choice now." After I gave off a questioning look, she continued: "I really don't mind it. I mean, at least she can function." Hmmm. I rounded my eyes, and curled my wet lips. I excused myself, and bolted outside towards the car. I knew Cat would share; greed a moral hit-man. The dim car light was on across the street. After twenty minutes or so, I sat back down in the booth and readjusted my eyes, feeling fresh. Jean was standing by the DJ booth. "Do you take requests?" "I take donations." An older woman with a strained gait and a proud, pauper air waddled up to our booth and gave a friendly hello-how-are-you to Jean, but not to me. Jean had a subtle knack for being pleasurable and forebearing to humdrum dishwater persons, the subjective soul inside me under a spell of well whiskey, and also Cat's treat, slowly making my thoughts increasingly insubordinate here. "Aye! A Jeanie in a bottle!" "Hi, it's good to see you." (No it isn't. She's foul!) "Been missin' ya round this place. Where ya been, girly?" "Just working, and taking care of grandma." "Oh, bless your heart! How is she? (She's okay.) "Y'know--good days and bad days." (Too bad this Jeanie can't grant wishes; she'd make it no days.) At one point, I reached over and took a sip out of Jean's beer bottle. The woman slowly straightened her mouth and furrowed her brow, glaring at me. "You're disrespectful." "I bought this. I've bought all her drinks." A cheap maneuver. She turned to Jean: "You should find better friends." I saw Jean's mouth twitch a little, then turn up again. "This is my oldest friend," she defended me cooly, with an undertone of hate only I could detect. I smiled at the woman as if to say, "How about that?" She had a countenance that was one part protectiveness for Jean, another part antipathy for me, and a third part, something I couldn't place, but that was definitely for herself. "It's okay, honey, he's really okay," said Jean sedatively. Jean looked more allayed than I was once the woman had eventually returned to her table. The front door was slowly staving off tottering bodies as the night bloomed into day. As she passed by them, coming back in from a cigarette, Jean looked up and noticed an old school friend of hers, who was talking to a man that happened to be sitting right next to me, at the far end of the bar. This made her face light right up, I noticed, which contented me quite well, as Jean in general wasn't particularly boisterous. She skipped up to the old friend and gave a kind and delighted hello. But this girl was obviously completely disinterested in her, and gave her a lowbred, patronizing sneer. "Okay." Freshly cold-shouldered, Jean rubbed her arms, and became specially downcast, then: this was not okay. Seeing her so depreciated so abruptly sparked a most tender agony within me that would prod my heart, even under the many obtunding whiskeys I had imbibed over the night. I called the insipid girl's attention, and seconds later, she looked up at me, and when she looked up at me, I vengefully, and without restriction, said: "What kind of rude, phony, fucking bitch are you?" Her body didn't move, but her fingers and face started to contort as she glared at me. She dropped her jaw a little, and then clenched it, and widened her thick, black eyes as a fire rose in them. Jean stood back a little, and the girl began to defend herself in belligerent fury, while I held my own ground in the meantime. Every sentence she spoke bumbled over the next; she was clearly plastered, and in rage. I continued to fuel that rage as I rebounded spurring insults like "Fuck you!" and "What do you know?" with gibes like "I can't! I'm outta cash!" and "Fish swim, birds fly, and you're a cunt!" This soon started a mini-uproar on that end of the bar, and very quickly had all the remaining bar-goers perking up from their glasses. Some people began to hover nearby us gingerly, in case of the possibility that things could get physical, as her and I continued to altercate, teams now forming behind us. After about three more minutes of her drunkenly calling me names and I relentlessly making fun of her for being fake and angry, the bartender Stephen kicked her out. He was good friends with Jean (a regular there), and had saw us together all night, and must have been partial. He told the friends of the girl I accosted, now a tornado of nails and hair and fury, body still unmoved, to take her outside, and so they did. He locked the doors, then turned to give me a face of exhausted vitriol. I still sat there at the long bar next to my friend Cat, the medium, and her deservedly defended daughter, one of my most nascent and esteemed loves from years and years ago. Because of our mutual friend Jean, he would only give me a little hell for causing such a row, and I gave him a most disingenuous apology. We reset and regrouped, and were soon out the door. What a perfect pleasure it is to mislay all complacency and trepidation, and to actuate defiance in the face of all of our false, permeable cordialities, and to see just how easily it can all fall away. To feel what I did to be an imperative as to glorify a strayed memory of a forgotten devotion only moreover authenticates my conviction that the ways we go, and the happenings in our lives, occur for no reason at all but for our own attempts at nullifying an unavoidable and steadfast state of lifelong suffering. Jean thanked me for standing up for her, and gifted me an old look and smile that, so many years ago, I would have never believed I had forgotten. "Okay."

0 notes