#please maybe just go sit in on your daughters classes and get a refresher on those reading comprehension skills | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harryspet · 4 years ago

Text

why won’t you love me | peter parker

[Warnings] peter parker x dark reader, yandere reader, sub!peter, dom!reader, crime boss au, stalker au, senior year au, kidnapping, violence, underage drinking, noncon sex, oral sex (male receiving), bondage, peter and reader are 18

A/N: This is inspired by two ideas I received as well as the lyrics “I will have you, yes, I will have you. I will find a way and I will have you. Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly, I will collect you and capture you.” Obsession- Animotion for @mariessecretfantasies 500 Follower Writing Challenge! Please go follow her and read her dark fics :)

TRIGGERING ADULT CONTENT AHEAD

In which Peter won’t love you so you force him to.

word count: 3.4k

main masterlist

Mr. Shum was famous. You, his daughter, were not. This led you to hosting parties at your father’s mansion to up your cool points. It was senior year and, since everyone wanted to party, you were often the one people called. Your father didn’t mind, it only solidified his cover as a gracious and kind businessman. His kind eyes and humor was enough to make a lot of believe it but you knew that you were the only person he was kind to.

You’d seen enough severed limbs to know that was true.

Brad had set the entire thing up and all you had to do was order your servants to get things in order. Peter was coming tonight and you’d finally get the chance to properly thank him for saving your life a few months ago. Maybe you’d even confess your feelings and the life you always dreamed of would start tonight.

Maybe you’d start with like instead of love. You loved him but maybe telling him that would scare him away. You didn’t want him to run from you.

You had known Peter since fifth grade but he still felt out of touch with him. You were never more than friends. Not even close friends, practically acquaintances. That was going to change.

The dress you were wearing was completely out of your comfort zone but you did your best to dress like the other girls did at your school. It was a silver body con dress that gripped your curves and highlighted features that you didn’t even know you had. When Brad saw you, his mouth was completely agape, “Woah, you look great!” Your mouth began to tug into a smile but, before you knew it, he was shoving a large paper bag into your hands, “Put this in the punch, will you?”

You looked down to see several bottles of vodka, “Is that safe?” You asked, your tone worried.

“Yeah, of course,” Brad insisted, starting to walk away, “This is going to be amazing, Y/N!”

You sighed walking over to the refreshments table. People were already starting to show up and soon the entire senior class would be there. You twisted open the bottles and poured them to the glass bowl. It wasn’t long before kids were shoving their red cups into the mixture.

After you were done, you simply dusted your hands together and went to look for your spider darling. Your giant living room flashed with multicolored lights as a song by a rapper you didn’t know played loudly over everyone’s shouting. Like instinct, you could sense where he was. You found him slouched against a white pillar, sipping at a red solo cup.

He was wearing one of his nice button ups and a pair of jeans. Oh god, you loved the color blue on him. Any color looked good on him actually, “Hi, Peter,” You smiled, tapping his shoulder. He seemed to be distracted but you blamed it on the alcohol, “Enjoying the party?”

As his head turned and those brown eyes looked into yours, your heart melted, “Y-Yeah,” He stuttered awkwardly, leaning his hand against the pillar, “Your house i-is beautiful … nice decor.”

“You think so?” You tried not to seem eager as you imagined Peter coming over all of the time. After school to study … maybe the two of you taking a dip into the pool. You imagined that his body was heavenly. Sculpted by a God-

“Yeah, it’s great,” Peter grinned. He grinned at you, “Y-You look nice. I’ve never seen you dress like that.” Did he think you were cute or was he trying to spare your feelings? Did he prefer how you normally dressed? You were overthinking.

“I’m trying something new. You look nice too,” Peter nodded his thanks, “You’re drinking?” You gestured to his cup.

“Nope, sprite,” Peter said, “May would kill me and I have to make sure Ned gets home in one piece. I don’t know if alcohol is really my thing…”

Did he look down on you because you were throwing a party that was serving alcohol? Did he look down on you because you were drinking? You held your cup close to your side as you said, “Me too. I mean, I don’t really get the people who can only have fun when they’re drunk …” You were sure your conversation wasn’t going well but Peter still seemed to be receptive to you. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he did have feelings for you, “So, we’ve missed you at Academic Bowl.”

“I’ve missed you guys too,” Peter said, causing your cheeks to heat. You knew he was referring to everyone in Academic Bowl but you couldn’t help but take it personally, “I wish I had the time. This moment right here is the only freedom I’ve had in like six months.”

“And you’re spending it caring for a drunk Ned?” You raised an eyebrow.

Peter shrugged, chuckling, “Well, when you say it like that it sounds crazy,” You loved his laugh. You loved how he nervously tucked his hand into his front pocket.

“Peter, I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while,” He perked up and looked at you attentively like he actually cared. You played with the ends of your dress nervously, looking down a bit as you decided to finally let your feelings go, “That day on the bridge when our bus was about to go over the edge … I never knew real fear until then. I thought I’d experienced all the trauma in the world but nothing could compare to that a-and you save me. I’ve never really met someone who’s cared for other people so much … It made me start thinking,like actually thinking about things and-”

As you looked up, you noticed he was looking past you. He had completely tuned out of your speech, and as you turned your head, you got a glimpse of what he was looking at. MJ was standing by the mantle of the fireplace, talking to some girl.

You couldn’t breathe. Your heart was shattering. Peter reached out to grab your shoulder, “I’m so sorry. Keep going, please.”

You shook your head, a fake smile on your lips, “It’s fine. I have to do something. Thanks for coming!” You scurried off before he could utter another world. The moment you turned back, he was already gone and walking over to MJ.

You crushed your cup, causing the liquid to spill out.

You could kill MJ. She already broke Peter’s heart so why was he running back to her? Why couldn’t she let you have him? Why was everyone so hell-bent on destroying your happiness? Your thoughts were overwhelming and the only thing that seemed to keep them at bay was Brad’s special punch.

You tossed your cup down, watching it fall three stories to the ground. Looking over, you wondered if you could survive the drop. As you lost your balance for a moment, you pressed your back against the roof, giggling. Your world was spinning so much.

It was a wonder that you hadn’t fallen off from climbing up here in the first place. You took a deep breath and pulled out your phone. You scrolled through your contacts, your vision blurry, before recognizing the heart emojis attached to his name.

You closed your eyes for a moment as you pressed the phone to your ear. You guessed he was in the middle of a conversation, the hint of laughter and joy in his voice, “Y/N? You’re calling me from your own party?”

His voice only reminded you of why you loved him in the first place. You hated the control he had over your every emotion. You hated how you craved him and he remained oblivious to it.

“I didn’t … I didn’t want to throw the party. I just wanted to see you. I wanted you to see me in this dress,” Your voice was solemn as you slurred into the phone.

“I got that you had to tell me something but then you stormed off … You sound very drunk. Where are you exactly?”

You shook your head as if Peter could see you right now. You opened your eyes and the night sky was above you, “I try so hard … nothing ever works out the way I want.”

“You try so hard to do what? Where are you, Y/N?” You could hear him moving around, his feet shuffling, and the murmur of Pop music.

You looked around, “On the roof … I needed fresh air.”

“On the roof? And you’re drunk?”

“I think …” Your voice trailed off, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m over everything. I was being crazy. I get so attached sometimes even though it hurts me-”

“Please don’t move, Y/N, I’m going to help you down,” You sat up from your position which only made your head spin more.

“Peter, just listen to me! You never listen to me,” You pouted, “You never see me. I have to accept that it’s never going to change. You’re gonna chase the girls who break your heart, not the ones willing to love you …. Peter? Peter?” You heard nothing from the other side.

Before you even had time to be disappointed, Peter’s head peeked over the side of the roof, “How did you even get up here?” Peter groaned, lifting himself up. He was still a good twenty feet away from where you had wandered on the slanted roof.

Peter actually came. He cared enough to talk to you in person. You’d been wrong about him. It caused you to grin but Peter’s face only held worry. Peter began to slide towards you, even taking a second to look over and see how far the drop was, “Give me your hand,” He ordered you as he moved closer.

You proceeded to pull your feet from over the edge and try to stand up, “Just let me tell you how I feel-”

“Y/N,” He whisper shouted your name, attempting to not frazzle you, “Sit back down, please.”

“If I don’t tell you now then I’ll never get the chance!” You slurred, trying not to stumble.

“You’re going to kill yourself, please sit back down,” Peter said back, every step closer only caused you to step back. Peter stopped, subtly trying to equip his web-shooters.

“It doesn’t matter! I don’t want to live in a world where you’re not mine-” A shriek left your lips as you finally stepped the wrong way and you fell over the edge. You waited for the impact but the jolt you felt was not from the pavement. You were spinning and, as you looked up, a web was connecting you to Peter.

Peter let out a heavy sigh as he pulled you up. He carried you back to the balcony. The two of you didn’t stay upright for long because your knees gave out and Peter caught you with his arms. He softly brought you to the ground and you stared up into those brown eyes with admiration.

He saved you.

You reached up to touch his cheek, “Y-You love me?”

“Jesus,” Peter shook his head, “What?”

Suddenly, you were sober.

You noticed a crowd had gathered around the two of you. You looked like a disaster, your dress riding high, and your mascara running down your face. Peter pulled your hand away, an exhausted look on his face. He stood up before saying, “Can someone get her some water? And find her somewhere to sleep?” That was all he said before he left the balcony.

This was different than any other rejection you had ever felt.

“Darling, it’s the ninth day you haven’t gone to school.”

You didn’t look up from your desk as your father entered your room. You were still typing at your computer, writing a scientific article for your organic chemistry class. You were still typing away as you felt a hand on your shoulder. It caused you to pause as your lips pressed into a thin line.

“I’m getting my work done,” You said to him, still not willing to look at him. You weren’t going to school and you were using your work to distract you from the fact that you asked Peter Parker if he loved you in front of a bunch of people. Not to mention that you drunkenly fell off your own roof.

Peter hadn’t attempted to contact you, and judging by the talk you heard online, you were officially psychotic in everyone’s minds.

Your father set a white box on your desk and you immediately recognized the log. DONATELLI”S PASTRIES. You opened the box to find your favorite, a red velvet cupcake, “Thank you,” You said, your mood threatening to improve.

Your father sure did know how to buy your affection.

He sighed before saying, “I hate to see that boy breaking my little girl’s heart. First, he threatens my business, a goddamn child is getting my partners arrested, and now this. I preferred it when he was fighting aliens.”

Your fist clenched tightly as you listened, “Superheros think they can do whatever they want.”

Your father agreed, “I really came in here to propose an idea to you,” You perked up at that, “What if I told you I could take care of your spider-boy problem?”

“How?”

“It’s a matter of keeping him distracted long enough to strike. Putting civilian lives on the line seems to do it for him. Besides that, I’ve come into a very valuable resource that will keep him sedated long enough to toss him into the Hudson and makes sure he sinks to the bottom.”

You thought for a long moment, “I don’t want you to kill him, Dad.”

Your father cocked his head to the side, his eyebrow raised, “You know you collect things … Mr. Medina’s left pinky … that police officer’s badge,” Your father was well aware of what he did with his enemies but he had not expected his daughter to take after him, “I want to add him to my collection.”

“I see,” Your father nodded, “Then it’s done. Anything for my little girl.”

A spider for your collection.

You smiled wickedly.

It was a screaming bus of children. That’s what landed Spiderman in the clutches of Mr. Shum. Luckily, they had survived but Peter wasn’t sure if he would. His face was dripping with blood and the bullet wound to his abdomen didn’t look to be healing anytime soon.

Peter hung from the ceiling by his wrist, the chains he suspected were made of vibranium or at least a knock off version of it. His spidey sense was completely off and his swollen eyes didn’t even allow him to see the punches as they came.

Peter fought as hard as he could but the darkness eventually consumed him.

He awoke to the feeling of warmth being pressed to his skin. As his eyes slowly opened, he found a smiling you hovering over you. Immediately Peter jolted up but was pulled back by chains attached to the bedpost. As he attempted to move his legs, he felt the same thing.

You shushed him, “Hey, calm down, you’re going to tear your stitches,” You whispered, dabbing the wet cloth against his face. Peter flinched at your touch but you kept it up. You were straddling his waist and as Peter looked down he realized he was completely naked, “I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon-”

“Y/N, what the hell is going on?” Peter’s voice was tired, desperate, his face starting to turn red, “Where are my clothes?”

“I had to give you a bath, it’s been days since you passed out,” You told him and it frightened Peter how calm you were, “I’m not like my father, I’m going to take care of you. He just had to show you what would happen if you tried to hurt me.”

Peter watched as you hinted at his bandaged abdomen, “Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you,” You grinned, running your hands over his muscular chest. You assumed right. His body was completely perfect and now it was all yours.

“Don’t say that,” Peter winced.

You leaned down closer to his face, “I’ve loved you for a long time, Peter.”

“Don’t say that!” Peter started pulling at the chain again which only led you to press your fingers, hard into the bandage on his abdomen. The boy cried out in pain and it broke your heart.

“Why don’t you love me too?” You asked, starting to grow frustrated, “I love you so much but you don’t even care! Why can’t you just love me back?”

“Because that’s crazy!” He shouted back, “We’re only friends and kidnapping me is not going to change that!”

“Kidnap?” You questioned, shaking your hand, “You are my one and only love, Peter. How can it be kidnapping if I must be with you? If I must have you as my soulmate?”

“Y/N, please. My family and this city needs me-”

“And MJ needs you?” You pressed your hand against his chest, staring him down, “Huh? The girl who rejects you and yet you chase her while I’m here willing to love you. If only you loved me back-”

“Y/N,” Peter tried to calm himself and ration with you, “If you just let me go, we could make this work. You’re right, I’ve been blind. I’ve been chasing MJ when I should’ve been chasing you.”

Your shoulders slumped and your eyes seemed to lighten as you heard his words, “You mean it?”

Peter nodded eagerly, “Y-Yes, and we could go on a date together. We could get to know each other more,” You were nodding now, the idea of it sounding completely magical. This was all you ever wanted, “If you undo the chains, we could do that.”

Your mouth quickly turned to a frown and you sighed. Peter watched as you went still, “I can’t risk it. You’ve shown me time and time again that you don’t know what’s good for you,” Peter shook his head, the fear starting to settle in as your hands rubbed up and down his chest. Peter continued to flinch as they moved lower, towards the area between his legs, “You’ll have to learn to love me, Peter.”

“S-Stop,” Peter begged as you finger traced along his length. Like the teenage boy you knew he was, he easily started to grow hard beneath your grasp.

“I’m not one of those girls who thinks you should save your virginity for marriage. I think you should wait until you meet the right person,” You palmed his cock in your hand, feeling it getting harder. You watched as he pulled at his chains and his face contorted into different expressions of disgust and desperation, “And you’re my person, Peter.”

You licked your palm, lubricating it before placing it back on his cock. You pulled and tugged, pumping up and down. You smirked as moans threatened to escape those pink lips. You leaned down and, as Peter turned his head, you placed kisses along his jaw.

“Y/N, please…” He begged.

“Please keep going? Please show your love for me by milking me dry?” He shook his head and you grinned, “My hearts been a toy for you all these years, perhaps now you'll understand what it is to be someone’s toy.”

You moved down Peter’s body, planting kisses and hickies before your mouth reached the member between his legs. Peter lifted his head, watching, “Okay, okay, I understand! Don’t please!” You felt his legs thrash as your tongue licked his pink tip.

You held onto his muscular legs as your tongue swirled around his tip. Peter’s head flew back in ecstasy as you took him further into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue still swirling.

His deep groans effectively soaked the area between your legs and you loved how they turned to whimpering and pleading. Peter lasted longer than you expected but it wasn't long before his body contorted and warm liquid sprayed down your throat and into your mouth. As you removed your mouth, you continued to pump his softening cock which caused him to thrash around even more from the over stimulation.

You swallowed what was left in his mouth and began to kiss up his body. His eyes gave a look of defeat, “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell you how much you liked it,” You said as you kissed his neck, “Baby steps, right?”

You laid down beside him, basking in his warmth. Now you weren’t just the awkward daughter of the famous Mr. Shum. You loved somebody and that somebody was going to love you.

You deserved that love.

hope you enjoyed this!

931 notes · View notes

shackermanwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Lifetime

Summary: When everything's falling apart in your life, and you don't know what to do anymore, maybe asking the universe for something isn't a bad idea after all. In which Sol Reader finds herself in another reality after begging the universe for something. Everything is going well not until she was put into Levi's squad.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Warnings & Content: Angst, Slow Burn, Alternate Universe, War, Politics, Sad, Fluff and Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Reality Shifting.

A/N: This is a y/n story, but I will still put a name since I am more comfortable with that. Also, for those who don't know what reality shifting is, it is basically moving your subconscious to another reality, and that's where I got the inspiration to write this. There are also no titans in the story except for the 9 titan shifters. The story will revolve around the war between Paradis and Marley.

Lifetime Masterlist

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

The sound of chirping birds and a peal of faint laughter from the other room are the first thing you had noticed as soon as you woke up from sleeping. You can’t recognize whether it's already morning or noon because of the sunlight beaming through the grass yet being danced by the wind.

You were taken aback by the beautiful scenery in front of you as you sat on the bed and stared at the large window beside your bed, yet soon realized that you don’t know where you are.

You started to look around to observe your surroundings; there are two teacups and a small saucer that contains crumbs of bread sitting on top of the bed stand beside your bed, which explains the faint smell of tea and woods that smells refreshing to your nose.

The room is quite spacious and clean considering seeing a bunch of toys scattered on the floor; who lives here, you thought to yourself. You slowly got up from the bed despite feeling nervous, you can’t recall this room, but you feel like this is not the first time that you have seen this room, let alone the feeling of being inside that house is somewhat familiar to you.

You carefully tiptoed as you went out; you don’t know what is happening, nor where you are right now, yet you did not find yourself panicking.

“Careful with that and don’t make a mess, okay?”

You followed the voice that seems to be coming from the kitchen, the voice was followed by a giggle that appears to be from a child. As soon as you reached the end of the hall, you slowly peek to see that your guts were right, the voices you heard were from the kitchen.

A table with four chairs and a child sitting on one of it back facing you is the only thing you manage to see so you decided to peek even more and there your eye saw a black-haired man that seems to be cooking as he slowly stirs the pot in front of him, you assume that he did not notice your presence.

Yet the child did; the moment you turn your gaze back to the child’s back, she was already looking at you with a slight smile painted on her face and a lovingly look that she had given you.

“How was your nap? You fell asleep while reading earlier in the living room, you must have liked the tea I made earlier” You looked at the man that has stopped chopping potatoes to look at you.

You locked eyes with him and you noticed the similar eye color of the child, you suddenly felt the urge to run into his arms and cry. You wanted to feel his embrace. You felt home as soon as you saw him, almost like you completely forgotten that you don’t know where you are, but somehow you felt safe, especially around him.

“yeah, my sleep was okay” you gave him a soft smile to lighten up the mood

As you were about to walk over to him, your vision is suddenly getting blurry, and everything was spinning, and your vision goes black.

“Hey, wake up, Sol” you felt a hand on your shoulder trying to shake you from your deep slumber.

You slowly open your eyes and crap was the only word you could think of when you realized that you fell asleep in class, not just any class but one of your major subjects this semester.

You look around and see your professor shuffling a bunch of cards that have your class names on it, ah random recitation again if your hunch is correct which made you groan in annoyance.

You aren’t the type of student to burn yourself out just to ace your subjects, but you are managing to pass them, and luckily for you, your grades are much higher than what you are expecting, although you are still not sure if it just because you’re still in your second year in college.

Initially, you were supposed to take up a course related to arts because ever since you find art, specifically drawing and painting, it is your safe place. You love to draw and paint ever since you were a child. Still, you had to bury those and convince yourself that doing all of that was just a hobby, so instead, you took a course related to medicine.

Going back to your senses, you immediately smiled at your friend beside you, that’s now scanning through her notes. You’ve been friends with Petra since the first day of freshman year since the two of you met in an embarrassing way. Both of you were wearing the same necklace that day, so people assumed that the two of you were dating. After that incident, she always sat next to you in class and eventually became friends with her up until now.

“so, since none of you failed the exams, the project that is due after Christmas break will be moved at the end of the semester” the room was quickly filled with cheers and chatters after hearing the announcement of your professor.

“so? You have plans this Christmas break?” you looked at Petra while she stuffs her notebooks inside her bag with a smile on her face, you can’t deny the fact that she is indeed beautiful.

“Yeah, I might go back to Germany tomorrow morning since Christmas is in five days, so” you scratch the project on your to-do list in front of your bag before putting it inside your bag.

Petra gave you a brief look before smiling at you for a second “yeah, I think you should, it’s been two years since you were home, right? Hey besides, I’m right around the corner here, so if you decided to come back early, let me know.”

“Yeah, I will, anyway. Aren’t you late for your job?”

“oh, dang it, I am, I got to go first, sol. My manager will kill me.”

You can’t help but giggle at her reaction when she realized that she’s late. “sure, take care and call me tomorrow.”

You could only watch as she leaves the room in a rush. You let out a sigh and grab your bag to leave the room. Your parents are the reason why you choose to pursue medicine instead of arts, the moment they knew what you want to do for the rest of your life. You immediately saw how disappointed they are, so instead, you took a course you think they can be proud of.

Medicine isn’t that bad, especially being trained and learning how to be a medical technologist, It's fun to learn, and you are adapting and finding yourself enjoying as you engage more and more. Yet, deep inside of you knows that you’re just pushing your doubts and negative thoughts aside, and that includes your passion.

The dorm isn’t that far from your university; it will only take a maximum of 4 minutes when walking. You removed your coat and shoes and decided to slump down on your bed. You don’t have the energy to take a shower considering that you just did two hours ago; you’re still okay, you thought.

You honestly can’t stop thinking about what Petra said earlier, home. It must be nice to feel that you're home.

Your parents are acceptable it is just that they don’t care about what you feel and think, maybe its because you’re their first child and they are still learning when they had you, but the way they treat your little sister says otherwise. Although, you love your sister you can’t deny the fact that you sometimes feel jealous, you just want to be a daughter and a person to your parents, you mentally slap yourself.

It would be best if you weren’t thinking like that.

You let out a loud groan while staring at the ceiling.

“I should probably pack my bag now if I’m leaving early,” you mumbled to yourself.

You quickly got up from the bed and grabbed your suitcase under your bed, and you don’t know how long you will stay but just in case.

You filled it up with your clothes and toiletries neatly. You can be organized if you’re in the mood, and that is something Petra can’t do; the girl is just messy and unorganized, which is why you’re glad that you’re there for her.

“that should do it, I did a great job.”

Once again, you slump down on the bed, face buried on the pillow, you’re tired physically and mentally drained, once again you thought about home, this is why you don’t like it when you’re doing nothing, it leads you to overthink.

You closed your eyes and thought about the things you want in life, which slowly leads to imagining them and making up scenarios as if that is already happening. “I just want to go home, home is where I want, this is bullshit but universe please I just want to be home, no matter what the cost is, no matter what the cost” you beg in your head, you grew up not being heard but deep inside of you clings on a hope that the universe might listen to you.

You stayed like this for almost half an hour; even though you are flinching, you didn’t move an inch. You had to convince yourself that you're probably just tired. Your eyes are getting heavier every minute, and you were about to fall asleep when you noticed that something’s not right, you felt dizzy and cold, yet you decided to push those thoughts and drifted to sleep.

Little did you know, the universe is always listening.

#levi fanfiction #levi ackerman #levi #levi fic #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi aot #levi au #levi attack on titan #aot fanfiction #attack on titan #aot x y/n #aot x reader #captain levi #hurt comfort #levi angst #levi slow burn #levi fanfic slow burn

59 notes · View notes

infinitegalahad · 4 years ago

Text

WIFE

Summary: You and Dick, after years of indefinite separation and depression, have finally reunited. Dick can’t wait to start a family with you. You love Dick, but you soon realize that you cannot bear him a son, a daughter, or a child.

Word Count: 10.9k (i’m being generous)

Warnings: Infertility, period typical sexism, Loneliness, based off of a mitski song what did you expect, here comes the angst train *sad choo choo*

Notes: Female reader. and title (literally) taken from Wife By Mitski, which I rec listening too for the extra painful experience. So I’m back from the dead...ish. I wanna apologize for going AWOL for two-three months, guess Iw anted to focus on other works and I feel like x readers are not my strong suit. But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna write them! I can’t promise anything, but I am planning some stories. Not as long or as painful as this is, of course!

I’m not gonna lie, I cried while writing this. Not only because it’s Mitski, but infertility is something that hit’s close to home for me and my family. Was this story just me projecting my generational trauma into this fic? Never! Anyways, hopefully I won’t go AWOL again, atleast not for that long. It’s really hard to find the motivation to write, but I’ll do it. For you guys ;)

Taglist: @easy-company-tradition

When Dick Winters had left for the war five years ago, he had made a promise to you the night before he was drafted. You were nineteen and naive, planned for college and he was twenty-seven, a post-graduate and Business Major. Your father was his professor and one of his best students. You would see Dick every Friday Night. As you would pick at the leftover peas on your plate, he would turn to look at your father to talk about something business-related. His eyes, you could never tell if they were a light shade of blue or green, would meet yours. It would be for a brief second. Those brief seconds would make you drop your fork and your cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

You had a small crush on Dick Winter’s.

It took you a few weeks to catch onto his eye color. They were a beautiful mixture of blue and green, reflecting a mint color. The taper candles would always lighten his eyes up. The reason you finally found out this eye color was because each dinner, you’d catch Dick staring at you. You were naturally oblivious to it, keeping your head down as your father talked a business deal. But whenever he mentioned Dick’s name, you would look up, see Dick’s dilated mint pupils looking right into your eyes before he swiftly turned his head to your father, acting like he was listening to every little word he was saying.

Dick had become a family friend. Instead of dinners once a week, he would come by your house more frequently in the summer months. The summer you had met Dick, there was a three-month-long heatwave. From what you understood, Dick had been doing an internship with your father along with extra studies, extracurriculars, and even more. It sounded like a lot for a young man. He was over three times a week, always in your father’s studies or the porch, drinking lemonade as he and your father discussed business. You’d sit on top of the porch, lazily slumped in a chair in your floral dirndl, reading And Both Were Young as you watched Dick Winters, in shorts and a tight white shirt with his strawberry blonde hair a little messy. Every time he spoke, your heart would skip a beat.

“Two jobs?” You cried, skipping ahead of him in your flats that you had slipped on in a rush, the heels hanging out of the back. “And an internship? How do you do it all?”

Dick looked down at your tiner figure, his lips curving into a subtle smile at your question. Whenever he smiled, his cheeks would wrinkle. It was a small detail you caught into about Dick that you adored. “I don’t go to parties a lot. Not worth the time that I’ve got. I work these jobs so I can get through school and support my family.”

“That’s very admirable, Dick. Not a lot of guys my age would even consider that.” You remarked with a compliment. Dick walked beside you, hands behind your back with a straight back. His gaze lingered in you as he scanned your figure. Now that Dick was around more often, you always made sure to wear your best outfits. You wouldn’t have considered yourself very vain, but with Dick, something had changed. You started wearing the pretty pastel dresses your mother approved off, fine pearls, expensive cologne, and even the short rompers that your mother didn’t approve of. When wearing makeup, you felt like a woman more than a girl, which is what you wanted Dick to see you as.

“Thank you, y/n.” The strawberry blonde politely thanked with a curt nod. The two of you had a little routine now. While your mother would make dinner and your father would smoke a cigar in the back with the dogs, you’d take Dick into your backyard and down a little cobblestone trail to a hidden lake. You liked to go there to read to escape, and Dick needed a small break from working in the burning heat. So it was idle. “Do you have plans now that you’ve graduated?”

“Yes. I’m starting classes at Franklin and Marshall since they’ve allowed women. My mother prefers I stay home and learn how to be a lady instead of reading,” You explained with a sigh. The only woman in a class full for men. Times were changing, and nothing was going to stop you from working. “She cares more about her grandchildren then her daughter’s desires.”

“Well, it is your choice? Not your mother or father’s. As long as you were happy, then they should be happy for you. I think you’ll like it,” Dick kindly reassured, “You’re a very nice young lady, y/n. I’m sure you’ll do great things.”

The two of you arrived at the lake. The sun was setting over the sky as it shined on the lake. There was an orange and pink hue in the sky. Dick and you stood besides each other. The strawberry blonde shut his eyes and let out a long sigh, feeling a small breeze in the night. The air got colder in the nights, which felt like a refreshing treat after a long day of work and unbearable heat. The sun made his strawberry blonde hair and skin glow like he was some kind of god.

You admired Dick as he stood there, biting your lip and hands playing with the belt fabric on your skirt.

“Dick?” You managed to choke, your voice cracking.

He opened one eye and looked at you, worried. “Is everything okay, y/n?”

“Can you please kiss me?”

Dick looked bewildered. It took him a second to process the question. His expression was that of a high school student stumped on an equation in math class. He hadn’t been outside much, maybe the heat was getting to him. “I don’t think I heard that correctly.”

“Can you please kiss me?” You reiterated, biting your lip in vexation. “I haven’t met a man like you, Dick. None of the boys my mother is setting me up with are like. They aren’t as intelligent, hardworking, cordial. When I tell these boys I want to read and live my life, they put me down-call me insane and ill. But you don’t do those things. You just stand there and listen to me. I may not make sense since I am probably just some young immature girl who knows nothing about being a proper lady. You even give me kind words of advice. No other boy would do that. Only a man would do such a thing.” You vented, letting your words spill out like vomit.

Dick wasn’t reacting at all. At Least it wasn’t obvious. He turned his figure towards you, eyes glued as his lips puckered against each other’s. He seemed taken aback by your honesty since you were someone who was reserved, only speaking when necessary. That didn’t mean adding your opinion to one of your father’s at dinner. Dick wasn’t obvious to your “rebellious” nature. Your mother would always scold you for interrupting the men. Your father didn’t mind your info if, and so didn’t Dick. He was interested in your perspective, and would always ask for further intake since it was the gentlemen thing to do.

You looked at him and shook your head, turning to walk back. “Forget it,” You sighed as you walked past him, your shoulder brushing against his. Dick got a smell of your perfume, a lavender and vanilla, it was definitely expensive. He liked y/n’s armora, especially after a long day of being in a stuffy room full of whiskey and burning cigars. “You probably think I’m just a mad woman-“

Dick thought about his decision for a second. He had to think thinkly. When he made up his mind, he sped walk towards you. “Wait,” He called. He saw you turn around with your silky (y/h/c) (y/h/t) spring right behind you. He scrunched up a fist feeling a lump grow in his throat as he looked a few slow steps towards you.

“You’re not a mad woman. I think you’re wonderful to be around. I always enjoy our conversations and our midnight walks,” Dick commented. He was at a loss of words for the kiss. When you had asked, you sounded like you were begging, but hid it.

It took him a while to realize that the two’s of you had a fair amount in common. You both were soft spoken souls, friendly but quiet. You distanced yourself from large crowds and were usually confident in each other since you both had a trust. You know how eachother worked like nobody else did-a small, intimate detail that only the two of you would watch into.

“You’re also growing into a beautiful young woman each day. Being a lady doesn’t mean being all prim and proper, it means being mature, kind, and respectful to others. That’s what you are.” Dick was only a few steps away. You listened to every word he said, your hands restraining themselves from touching his chest. He could once again smell the cologne and see the moonlight shine on your eyes and hair-the gloss you wore sparkled as well.

“But I couldn’t kiss you. You’re father wouldn’t approve of it.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back. Your hands met his chest. You were so caught up in the heat of it that you didn’t realize that your hands rested on Dick’s Ivory collared shirt. Dick, however, didn’t protest at all.

You gently scrunched the fabric, “He’s not here. Just one. Before my mom tries to marry me off. Just one kiss and I won’t ask for anything else of you, Dick.”

Dick put his bigger hands onto yours as his thumb finessed the small part of your soft, [y/s/c] skin in between your index and thumb. “I…”

You gave him those eyes. They were begging. One kiss from a real man and you would be content.

Dick let out a defeated sigh, “...will. Just one. For you.”

So he did. In the moonlight, Dick Winters held you close and became your first kiss. Your lips were like a sweet treat. It felt miraculous after a long day of work. It was meant to be quick, but he was obsessed with your cushion lips and sweet lip gloss. His hands firmly rested on your lower back as his fingers scrunched with the material. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was yours, so he made sure to be gentle with you, even though he struggled. The whiff of your perfume, your shirt showing off your abdomen, the silliness of your hair. It was hard just for it to be one kiss.

Dick walked to you, your arm slung in the hole of his elbow. The two of you didn’t speak any words once you arrived back for dinner. It was a typical dinner. Your mother always made Salmon, rice, and peas on Saturdays, which occurred to be Dick’s favourite meal. Your mother raved about boys who could “tame” you, your father spoke of a new business deal in the news, you picked at the leftover peas, and Dick looked at your father with his weary king eyes, attempting to look interested in the conversation.

What kept him away in the dinner as your bare ankle, brushing against his trousers. It was a little bit distracting. Thank god he was a good pretender. It felt so wrong to be doing this, yet so right. You were unlike a lot of women Dick had met. You always caught his attention, watching you each day as you grow into a young, educated woman.

To tame your foot, Dick wrapped his ankle around yours, tenderly holding it down until the meal was over. After dinner was over, Dick wished your family a goodnight.. He gave your mother who adored him a kiss on the cheek, your father a firm handshake, and you apart on the shoulder. His fingers struggled on your bare shoulder for what seemed like forever, brushing against the edge of your neck.

And with that, Dick was gone into the night. You headed to bed and changed, not washing your lips. You had a smile on your face as you twisted and turned. It was a one time occurance, but it felt like your fantasy had come to life.

But before you knew it, it would all be over. Dick would be back on Tuesday, and the two of you would act like nothing had ever happened.

But what Dick and you didn’t know is that it wouldn't be the first time of hushed kisses, lingering fingers, and limbs grazing passionately against each other.

————

The US had entered the war overseas. Most of the boys in your class were putting a pause on their lives to go fight in Africa, The Pacific, or Europe. Anybody who was over the age of eighteen was required to draft, so town was a shit show of crying mothers, lanky boys who could possibly never come home, and military trucks. You wanted to apply to be a combat nurse, but you weren’t of the age requirement.

Dick was going to war.

Ever since the night at the lake, you and Dick kept a closted relationship. He still came over in the Summers. Some days you wouldn’t even see him. But the small moments you had together, whether that be watching the twinkling stars on your walk on the lake hand in hand or cuddled reading books on a rainy day in your isolated greenhouse porch, mattered so much. If you had a bad day, he'd sit there and listen. He wouldn’t judge or give any advice. You didn’t know if he understood your struggles, but it made you happy to know that someone would sit there and listen. For comfort, he would take the book out of your hands and bookmark it, slide off your dangling flats, and pull you into his chest.

Dick’s language of romance wasn’t grand or romantic. Although reticent, his tranquil actions were nothing but idyllic. It was the little things that counted, whether it was fresh perennial’s picked from the field or even a hug. Your relationship didn’t have to be based on gifts and what others thought of you. It was the little things that counted.

The night before he was drafted, Dick invited your family over to his farm. It was at the edge of town and down a long dirt road, leading to a little white house and large red barn. It was picturesque, a cornfield and trees for miles on end. There was no constant chatter, horns blaring, or pressure-it was just quiet.

When your parents and Dick’s parents were distracted in conversation, Dick requested to take a walk with you. As much as you enjoyed talking to the bubbly Anne, you needed a small escape. You followed Dick to the back of his tiny kitchen. Being the gentleman he was, he held the door open and let you walk ahead of him. The only noise that could be heard were the chirps of crickets and the wind gently blowing. You held a hand down on a dress your mother forced you to wear. It was a Jade summer frock, but Dick had complimented you. So it made the frock somewhat bearable.

The two of you walked in his backyard. You had no clue where he was leading you. You turned to Dick to ask. He didn’t respond with words. His fingers edged on your as you unruled your fingers, letting his hand sink into yours. His hands were worked, and you felt awful so you gently caressed the upper skin with your thumb.

“Where are we going?” You questioned as you looked left and right, clinging onto the shawl that hung from your shoulders.

Dick looked down at you. He had a subtle smile on his lips as he looked down at you. All of the anxiety he had felt about being drafted, work, and the war faded away when he looked at you. Dick didn’t need to kiss you to know that you loved him; he could tell from the gentle look of your stunning (y/e/c) eyes. He watched you look into the never ending field ahead of you, the wind blowing loose strands of your updo. You wore a little bit of makeup. It was always subtle. He knew you hated wearing makeup and did you want to do it to look “presentable”. Dick didn’t care what you looked like, whether it be in overalls or a dress, he was infatuated with you.

He should have known from day one that y/n, the mischievous daughter of his Economics professor, had been yearning for him. He attempted to get lost in the papers and speeches of your father in his regal office with the shades closed and the whiff of smoke, earth paper, and Whiskey. Even when he was trapped in the office, you were still on his mind with your elegant perfume and book in hand.

“Here.” He announced, overlooking the cornfield. The colossal, green plants waved in the wind, in front of a hazy smoky dull sunset. You didn’t respond and simply looked into the sunset, slowly watching the shining sun set into the ground. “The cornfields, they remind me of you.”

A smirk curved on your gloss lips as you squeezed his bigger, worked hand with your tinier one. “Is that so?”

“They're wild. No matter the season, they are always growing. They're not the easiest plant to manage, there...unruly.” Dick explained, still a gentle smile on his tringale face.

“Are you comparing me to a bunch of crops?” You teased as your head landed on his shoulder. “Not a lot of women find that very romantic.”

Dick leaned his head on top of yours as he, your thighs brushing against each other.

“I’m going to miss you a lot,” You broke the silence.

Dick didn’t move and had an eerie stoic expression. He tightened his grip on your hand before looking down to let out a soft sigh.

The sun didn’t shine anymore, the corn had stopped moving in the wind, and the stars didn’t sprinkle. You felt your stomach drop as goose bumps appeared on your exposed arms and legs. You froze and looked down at the grass, seeing your feet nestled right next to Dick’s.

The possibility that this could be the last time you saw Dick, held him, read with him, and kissed him haunted you. As a child, you had made it official that love was off the table. But when the giant gentle with red hair and mint eyes waltzed into your kitchen on that fateful night, your world had been turned upside down. Trying to be logical, you could live if Dick died. He was far too old to marry you, and most likely showed no interest. You could've been just a pretty face for him to silently hold before acting like you never shared tender moments in the moonlight. If he died, you would move on, marry someone your mother chose out for you, and start a mundane life of cooking, folding laundry, and having children.

But emotionally, if Dick didn’t come back to Lancaster, something would be missing from your life. Something important.

“I can’t promise anything. You know that, sweetheart.” Dick cautioned you, whispering into your hair. At Least he was being honest-better than sugar coating a sensitive subject. He tried to make you look at him, but you refused. You were being stubborn, pushing away the emotions and trying to think logically. But in all honesty, it was catching up to you know. Tears stung at your eyes as your mouth quivered.

“I know, you don’t have to tell me, ” You sniffled, “I’m not an idiot. I prefer it if you be straightforward with me.” Dick looked at you with his thin eyebrows knit together and narrowed eyes. After sharing such a kind moment, he most likely wouldn't wanna break news that would tear your heart to pieces.

You preferred if he’d just spit out the words and get it over with. Make it easier for both of you to handle.

He moved on his hands to your cheek to wipe the incoming tears, but you refused. You turned your head and swiped the tears with your shaky palm, red lipstick and mascara staining your skin.

You scoffed in frustration, “Just say you want me to break up with me. It’s for the better. I’ll go to school, you go to war. We act like nothing ever happened. For the greater good. It was fun while it lasted..But I...nevermind.” You looked down at the ground, refusing to look at Dick. One glance and the next thing you would know, tears would be streaming down your face as you ran into the night.

Dick turned and followed after you as your footsteps increased with a few mumbled sniffles. “That’s not what I wanted to say-”

A pained sob escaped your mouth as you walked forward, a red face with tears streaming down your cheek. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Please, for the better of us. It’s better to use your mind over your heart and not worry about some young, naive girl who had a crush on her father’s best student!”

“Y/n...”

You continued to walk forward and ignore Dick’s pleas, but your stomping slowed down.

“Y/n...”

Dick was creeping up behind your. Your speed walking slowly turned into slow, sluggish steps. Tears streamed down your face as your hands slung at your sides. Dick was now right behind you, watching you as you sniffled. You slowly turned your head to look at him with mascara running down your face.

“Oh, Sweetheart..” Dick softly sighed. Your whole body turned around as you fell into his arms, letting out a loud sob. Small sniffles turned into wails as you cried into his chest, staining the ivory collared shirt. He stroked your hair as he ran reassuring circles on your back. He wanted you to get all of those pestering emotions out. After a few minutes of sobbing and Dick comfortingly holding you close, he broke the silence.

“That’s not why I brought you here,” Dick cooed into your hair as he traced mindless figures into your lower back.

You looked up with your big (e/y/c) orbs, letting out a little sniffle. He had a soft smile on his face as he wiped a stray hair from your face, slowly tucking it behind your hair. “Then...why did you bring me here..?”

“This cornfield holds a special place in my heart. I come here a lot. It’s peaceful, but lonely.” Dick explained as he grabbed your hand, holding your tiny one in his own. He looked down at you, “After working with your father, I’d come home and run here. I’d stop midway to look at the wind and the way it moved the corn. It was so relaxing, so that’s why I brought you here.”

“To not feel lonely?”

“Yes. I felt alone, until I met you.” He admired, “I was surrounded by people, but I still felt alone. But when I spent time with you, I didn’t feel alone at all. It was a highlight to see you, even if it was sitting across from each other at a table or seeing you, laying on the porch. I looked at you and I got happy.”

“Dick, I…” You were speechless. His words wanted your heart, but his message baffled you. “Appreciate your kindness, but what do you mean?”

The gentle strawberry blonde held your hand. He didn’t hold it tight, but used both his hands to hold them up. He slowly backed up and lowered himself on one knee. From the books you had read, you knew what this way. Initiatively, you would’ve said no and ran away. But Dick had courted you with his gentle hold, reassuring words, and sheer presence.

“I couldn’t keep it any longer. I know there’s a chance that this will be the last time you see me for a while or at all. I said I couldn’t promise anything, but I..can’t hide it. I love you, y/n. I don’t care if you want to start school and make your own money, I don’t care if you wear pants, I don’t care what you do. I care about your happiness. I want you to live a long and happy life. You’re the most beautiful and intelligent woman I have ever met. I understand you’re young, and you can turn this down if it’s too much. Dick announced as he pulled a velvet box from the back of his pants, he opened the box to reveal a golden Celtic band. You put a hand on your mouth in joyous disabelif. “I want to be with you, but only if you want to be with me. You’d never be alone...Will you marry me, y/n?”

“Dick, this is…” You chuckled in disbelief. One minute you were crying, now you were laughing. Dick in one hand held a beautiful ring, and the other hand your delicate hand. “Wonderful. But my parents...they…”

“I talked to your father. He said pick out a white dress you want.” Dick replied. “You’re mother cried. I thought she was upset, but she was beyond happy. She told me she knew you had an eye on me since I started coming over for dinner. They approved...but if you don’t want this, I understand. I just couldn’t hold it in, even if I don’t come ba-“

“Yes, Yes, yes, yes, yes…” Your words started low, but then turned to loud cheers. You squealed, nodding enthusiastically. “I will, Dick. I’ll marry you. I don’t care. If something does happen, I'll be happy knowing that I’m yours. Even if you don’t…” the three lettered words struggled to come out your mouth. It was such a rough word. Unable to bring yourself to say it, you chose to leave your pessimistic side for something more optimistic. “I won’t be alone, even if you’re in Europe, The Pacific, wherever. I’ll just know you’re here, in my heart and dreams.”

It turned out that this whole dinner was a setup by your family and the Winters. It just had to be Anne Winters that she found about your relationship with Winters. Being sixteen and sassy, she casually shrugged it off and stated that “Dick was a horrible liar”. It should have been obvious with Dick’s favourite meal, the fact that you were placed right next to time, Anne’s teasing, and your mother pestering for you to look presentable. It all made sense now.

But there was one ball in the air-the ceremony. Dick would be leaving for Toccoa the next day, the afternoon. Your parents wanted a big ceremony for the morning. The Winters didn’t care-they just wanted the two of you to be happy considering that Dick was going to be away for a long time or forever.

You and Dick had to come to an agreement. You announced at the end of dessert that you would wait to be married until Dick came back from the war.

Obviously, this caused a bit of uproar. But with Dick leaving tomorrow, they chose not to make a big deal of it. As long as you and Dick were happy, your families could be nothing but be happy for you. Even if it was a short amount of time.

After the storm that settled, you and Dick had left his house. You hopped in his truck and drove to the local chapel Dick had attended with his family every Sunday. In the middle of the night, the two of you eloped. He made sure to pull over and pick out a group of Perennials, all kinds of your favorites. You even stuffed some into your messy updo which had turned into a half updo.

After your quiet ceremony, the two of you drove back to your estate. There, the two of you spent your first, and poetically final, night together in your childhood bedroom; making love, cuddling, and cherishing every moment you shared with each other.

The variety of perennials’s Dick had picked out were placed into a blue and white ginger jar. It was meant to be a memory of Dick. He wouldn’t be there psychically, but spiritually, he would be right there.

Dick was surprised to learn that you weren’t a virgin. He was raised a Mennonite, waiting for marriage. You, being a curious young woman, had experimented. It was once, and an unpleasant experience. Before, you had felt indifferent about sex. It was something that women were meant to desire. You were told to be a virgin and wait for a man to take control of you. Hating those words, you chose to do the opposite. Nobody knew of your little secret, besides Dick-your husband.

Dick was nothing like the boy you had lost your virginity to. Unlike that boy, he was a man. Not because he was masculine and tough, but because he treated you like his equal. He never treated you any differently from your father. Dick had morals and integrity, he was compassionate, quiet but polite, open-minded, and used his brain and heart. That was what you defined a real man as.

Dick treated you like you were made of glass. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you. He didn’t care about his feelings, he only cared about yours. He wanted to make sure that you were enjoying yourself. You aided him in some areas, but the two of you were on a ride after a rocky start. Dick always asked how you were doing, if you wanted him to stop, go slower, or if you needed to break. He left sloppy kisses all over your body and had his hands wrapped around you like a young child with a bear. Dick didn’t let go of you once.

That night, the two of you held each other close as you chatted for hours on end. That was what you had looked forward to, not the sex. Sex was still a big piece in your marriage, but it wasn’t the most important. You looked forward to the long and mindless conversations the two of you had. Dick held you in his warm arms, toned and muscles from the workout’s he did year round. He would hold you close to his body as the two of you discussed life after the war.

It didn’t matter what the future held. If Dick was gone for one year, ten years, or forever. What mattered was the two of you had each other in your little moment of peace before all hell would break loose.

You and Dick had chatted the whole night away. The next thing you knew, you would go from the bedroom to the train station. It was a moment you dreaded, but it had to be done. Dick once again had a stoic expression. He kissed his mother, your mother, and sister, shook his father's and your father’s hand, and gave you a long sweet kiss on the lips. Dick struggled to pull away, but he knew it was for the best. Before climbing onto the train, he promised to write to you at every opportunity he got and tell you about Europe, the war, and anything he desired to tell you.

The next thing you knew, you were alone again.

When you arrived home, you kicked off your shoes and walked up the stairs. Your mother asked if you were okay, to which you silently nodded your head. Your father had noticed your unusual silence. He had offered to take you shopping, thinking that money would make you happy. All you did was politely decline and retreat to your bedroom.

Your room was stuck in time. The sheets were all over the floor and Dick’s tall figure that had been imprinted on the left side of your bed. The dress your mother forced you to wear laid on the floor, along with your flats and pearls.

The sun shined through the curtains as you crawled onto the side where Dick had laid. You closed your eyes and sunk into his pillow, holding onto the disappearing scent of your husband.

On Top of the books, you had been reading were the perennials; lavender, daylilies, and stonecrops. You looked up from the pillow, your nose buried into the pillow and a blanket loosely covering your legs.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel that so alone anymore.

———

One year turned into two, two turned into three, and three turned into four. You kept the calendar’s from over the years in your room, neatly stored under your bed. You found it funny how time flew by. You could remember the first day of walking in your classroom and the day you walked off the podium with your diploma. The pretty perennials that Dick had given you from what seemed like a decade ago had died. They were withered and derived of the bright colors they once had, hanging on the side of the blue and white ginger jar. The perennials reminded you of yourself. Once you had been a fiery young girl, and now you were an exhausted graduate student who was bound to become a widow.

Around the time you had found work at Lancaster, BBC announced that the war was over in Europe. That should have phased you and made you jump up with glee, but in all reality, it didn’t. The optimistic side you once had was long gone, turning into a pessimistic bitterness. The war was over in Europe, but not in The Pacific. Dick still wouldn’t be coming home, and you learned to accept that.

Sure, he had sent you letters in the beginning. Lots of them. He would talk about his adventures in training, his dreadful drill sergeant, his friend who was a “one of those city folk”, and so many more things. He expressed his boyish pride in being a patriot for his country. His little letters used to make your day. But as the leaves fell from the trees and the years passed, his letters would slow down. The last one you had received in January, written in December. It was short and sweet. The letter rested in your drawer. As the days passed on, a small part of you broke. You had been married for five years, yet you felt like you weren’t even married. No Dick kissing you, holding you in your arms, or comforting you in your darkest moments.

When the flowers had slowly withered, so did your hope.

But that all changed on a warm September day. Your mother had called you from your room, not specifying what was awaiting for you at the door. You grumbled and got up, taking off your glasses as you walked down the stairs, expecting to see another colleague trying to woo you.

You didn’t expect to see a tall man with a soft smile, strawberry hair, and a neat military uniform. Your husband-Dick Winters.

It was like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You dropped everything, running right into his arms. You buried your face in his chest as he pulled you in close, his worked hands resting on your lower back and hair. He smelt amazing, and his uniform was soft. You missed his tender touch and soft words. It had been forever since you had seen him. In that moment, nothing mattered. No words needed to be spoken. In all honesty, you never wanted or needed pity from others. You just wanted someone-Dick-to be close. You thought of yourself as a coward, but all you wanted to feel was alright.

“Sweetheart, I missed you. I’m so sorry,” He apologized, stroking your embrace. His voice was stoic, as usual. It really was Dick. He was home and in your arms, at last.

“Don’t. Just stay. Please.” You softly cooed into his chest. No, you couldn’t let go now.

Dick let out a soft chuckle and stayed in the embrace. War was a strange beast. It stripped families of their children and caused mass discussion. Dick thought he wouldn’t come home and see his wife who had married the night before he was drafted. As the years had gone by, Dick began to regret his choice. What if he had left you a widow?

But that was the past. It was gone-nothing to waste tears on. In your extended embrace, the future didn’t matter, it wasn’t worth stressing. Dick and you lived in the present moment and made it beautiful.

-----------

Nothing had changed after Dick had come home. Life was still the same, except you weren’t as alone. Dick was still his stoic self. He was a doting husband. You expected him to struggle when he returned to civilian life. He wasn't used to homemade dinners and a bed much-the flashes of exploding limbs and artillery flashing through his eyes. Both you and Dick were independent. It wasn’t a bad thing. You could spend hours reading as he did a puzzle in another. On some days, the two of you would do activities together. You’d lay your head in his lap as he’d did his puzzle. On other days, Dick would be needier. Originally, he wasn’t vocal about it. It took you a while to catch onto it. He held your hand more in public, pulled you closer as you slept, and whenever he was in a mood-he’d come right to you and just give you a look. You knew the look all too well-and knew how to cure it. Dick would wrap his arms as you snuggled into his chest and talk about anything your minds came to. Sometimes you’d talk, but other times the two of you would close yours and fall asleep. Dick wouldn’t have any nightmares if held you close for comfort.

Without you, Dick didn’t know what he would do. How he could return to the simplicity of life.

Somehow, he returned. And every day he made sure to thank you for making him feel like a human and not a machine-whether that be through a gentle peck, a cuddle, or even a literal “thank you”. He loved you more than anything in the world.

----------

Shortly after Dick returned, the two of you moved out to New Jersey. His “city-boy” friend (his name was Lewis Nixon, but Dick called him Lew) had offered him a job at his parent’s nutrition company. So off the two of you drove from Lancaster to the suburbs of Haddonfield. Haddonfield and Lancester were virtually the same; small country bumpkin towns isolated from the big cities.

You and Dick had bought your first house (which was given by Nixon was a “late honeymoon gift). It was a small colonial house in a tiny suburb, pristine white with red doors. The decorations in the house were limited, a few photos of your and his family with elegant furniture gifted from your parents. It was a little big for your liking. It was a nice gift, but in Nixon’s words, it was for the “incoming armada of redheads”.

Babies. Children. Of your kin.

Dick had mentioned having children. When he was still adjusting, he’d hold you close as he talked about his plans for the future. Buy a farm in Pennsylvania, build his own business, and start a family of his own. He had told you that anywhere you would go, he would go. Anything you wanted, he wanted. He was about thirty two and you were close to turning twenty-five. It was expected at your age to have young children, but with no husband around and a job, it was difficult to settle down. You would gulp and smile, looking down as you held his hand.

Dick didn’t want to pressure you. He knew that were siginactiatly younger. Times were changing, you had a job and life of your own. He never wanted to interfere with it. When you would get insecure about not being the “ideal wife”, he’d reassure you that you were his wife and didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want. Dick wasn’t a man who put fear into others to get what he wanted. He was a patient and gentle soul.

You had tried a few times here and there. As much as you tried to enjoy something that was pleasurable, it was painful. You hid it from Dick, but Dick wasn’t an idiot. Dick wanted you to enjoy it. You could his mint eyes, hungry yet soft, as he laid on top of you, both of your hands restricted as you did the deed.

You weren’t making any noises, looking to the side. Something was wrong, you knew it. But you couldn’t break it to Dick. How would he react?

Dick catched onto his. He pulled himself together and pulled out. You looked at him and gave him a stubble style as he scooted closer to you, his breath heavy and gelled hair a mess.

“Hey,” You smiled awkwardly, clenching at the sheets.

Dick looked at you, a smile curving as his lips as his hand caressed your cheek. “How is my wife doing?”

It was a private nickname. He called you it after the war, especially when he was feeling vulnerable. Sometimes it was “my little wife”, which could be sweet or driven by lust. The little nickname made your heart skip a beat. You were proud to be his.

“Good. I’m tired,” You yawned as you held his hand close, playing with his big fingers.

Dick looked at your face as he admired your natural beauty, a pearly smile, your hair loose on the pillow, and your figure covered by a thin sheet. His hand moved from your cheek, your nape, and eventually your stomach. He drew slow, soft circles around your tummy.

“My little wife with our baby,” Dick remarked, his fingers dancing across your bare skin. Any girl would’ve fallen head over heels if a man had said that. You should have been happy, you wanted a family.

But how could you tell him?

There was a long silence between the two of you. All you did was look into his mint orbs, stroking his hair out of his face.

“I hope he, or she, looks like you. So they get their mother’s beauty.” Dick looked down at your stomach and planted a kiss.

You gulped, thinking of a response. A pretty white lie. “And there’s dad’s redhead and kindness. If you’re a little guy, I’ll tell you that it’s hard to find a man like your day.”

“And it’s hard to find a woman like your mother. She’s a firecracker,” Dick jabbed as he playfully ruffled his hair.

“Dick…” Your words were low as you held back a sob. You plastered a smile, it hurt to lie. “We don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl. I don’t even know if I have a baby there…”

“Well…” Dick laid his head on your stomach, gently finessing the skin under your breast. “If It was a girl, what would her name be?”

You hated the feeling-naming a baby that wasn’t in your stomach. Dick believed that you were pregnant, or at least he believed you were. In response, you bit your lips-looking like you were deep in thought.

“Margaret,” You announced, “Molly for short. After my grandmother, in her memory.”

Dick tilted his head up and nodded, “For your grandma,” He planted another kiss and rested his head once again, “A boy?”

“Lewis? You like that fellow a lot.”

Dick shook his head, “No. I can’t look at him and our child the same way.”

You let out a chuckle before shaking your head. An image of a little baby flashed between your eyes. Mint eyes, dimples, and soft red hair. You wished it would occur.

“I can’t think of a name. You?”

Dick was silent for a minute as he laid on your stomach, your fingers entangled in his locks.

“Thomas. His name could be Thomas,” Dick proposed.

“Why is that?” You questioned.

Dick let out a sigh before crawling up to you, pulling you into his arms,“He was a C.O, to replace Sobel. I didn’t know him for long since his plane was hit. He’s listed as missing in action...but,” He froze on the words, unable to say it. You looked up at him Dick, who looked to the side with guilt tugging at his heart. You planted a kiss on his chin.

“He was twenty-two years old, just married. He sent a letter out to his wife to tell her that he was coming home. She still believes he’s out there, lost in some forest, finding his way home..” Dick looked down at you. Just like Meehan, he had been freshly married, sending out a letter. While Dick had kept his short and sweet (he didn’t want to promise anything), Meehan was too big for his britches. He didn’t show his fear, confidence in the face of adversity.

“Okay, Thomas it is. I like that name” You expressed.

Dick saw your face glow up, and so did his. He smiled, nodding along. “Thomas and Margaret,” He looked at your stomach once more, running his hand across your flat stomach. “I like that too.”

You nuzzled into his chest as he planted little kisses on the nape of your neck, holding you close for warmth. The two of you remained there, the only noise being your breathing.

Pulling your head back, Dick moved his hands down to your lower back to pull you up, closer to his face. “Y/n?”

“Yes, Dick?” You looked into his mint eyes, the candle in the room glittering in his orbs.

Dick held your cheek as he admired your face, “I love you, my little wife.”

You looked down before looking at your husband, moving slowly up to his face.

“And I love you two, my big husband.”

Maybe time stopped when Dick’s lips had met yours, but the flutter only intensified. Your heart pounded in your chest as your knees went numb. You could only focus on how soft Dick felt against your mouth, how addictively he invaded all of your senses.

It wasn’t clear if you had dreamed this all, but the raw emotion in the way Dick’s fingers curled against yours. Dick kept his eyes open, sneaking a guilt peak every time you took a breath for air, just to make sure you weren’t a product of his imagination.

You weren’t sure if nature rooted for this moment, but it distracted you from everything. You just laid there with Dick, draped each other's arms as you sloppily kissed. Dick pulled you in once again, gently placing his lips onto yours until your knees had once again gone numb, overpowered by his. His other hand rested on your stomach as he murmured Margaret and Thomas, talking about how excellent of a mother you would be to your babies.

By the time you became aware of this, you froze, letting Dick kiss your body. You looked at the ceiling, hands in his hair as he decorated your skin.

It was like a car had run into you, throwing you down to the side-a rude awakening. As much as you denied it, it was creeping up on you.

There was no Thomas. There was no Magaret. There was never going to be a Thomas or Margaret.

Your stomach was flat, nothing moved. There was no life in your stomach ever. No matter how many times you tried, wished, prayed, there was only one conclusion.

There would never be a son or a daughter in your stomach-ever.

From that point on, life was slow. You woke up, gave Dick a kiss goodbye, worked from home, cooked dinner, read with Dick, fell asleep at an ungodly hour, and repeated the mundae routine everyday. With Dick being a general manager, he would work late hours. At some points, the only time you would see him is late at night when he’d crawl into bed giving you a kiss or early in the morning. Still, in his weary and stressed state, he’d always kiss your stomach every night and morning.

With your irregular cycles, constant negative tests, and pelvic pain becoming more evident in your marriage, you decided it was best to see your Doctor. As much as you didn’t want to know the possibility of what could be wrong, at least you would have an idea of what it was and how to make it better.

It turned out you couldn’t make your problem better. The doctor had a sympathetic look in your eyes as he listed off possibilities. You just sat there and looked at your stomach; your cold hands pressing against your stomach.

You were infertile.

There was never a Margaret growing in your stomach, nor was there a Thomas. There was nothing in your stomach.

How the hell were you going to tell your doting husband this?

---------

It was another Friday night in September. The leaves fell from the trees, the radio softly played in the back, it was peaceful in your little white house. Dick still hadn’t come home yet. You attempted to act like everything was normal as you put on a nice dress, pearls, and a fake pearly smile. It was all fine.

Nothing was fine.

You stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down into the haunting abyss. This feeling of dread and tightness became background noise as if it were traffic on an unseen road. There were times where you could handle it, and times where you could not. This was a day where you couldn’t handle it. Each day passed, and the more you repressed it-it hurt. It hurt even more than it was supposed to.

You were faced with a dead-end, a terrifying one, with thoughts of temptation and contemplation. You felt even lost in your own home and marriage, feeling helpless and scared. This wasn’t supposed to happen. In the partial society you lived in, a woman’s identity revolved around the ability to convenience. As a girl, you laughed it off, saying you’d do what you’d please. But you were no longer a fiery girl, but a broken and bitter woman. Bitter at the world for forcing the idea that women were baby machines. You, as you typically did, pushed it away.

Stuffed it into a closet, but it was now pouring out. All the baggage that you had repressed was right in front of you. You never felt like you belonged in the parthricaral society you lived in with their white picket fences and predictable lifestyles. That didn’t mean you didn’t want a family of your own. You had a husband, a job, a house, everything seemed perfect. But one thing was missing-a baby.

The older you had gotten, the more it affected you. Going to those parties for Dick’s job and seeing all the wives with their babies and fumbling toddlers. You didn’t feel anything towards them at first, but they eventually grew on you. Dick’s first few days home contained long conversations about what your lives would be after the way. You would chat with him for hours about it to distract from the nightmares that flooded his mind, holding his hand.

“A nice little farm near Lancaster, one or two kids, my own business, and the most important thing...you ” Dick would say, his words full of love. “My wonderful little wife, Margaret, Thomas, and me, on our farm. We’ll have each other.”

The kettle boiled in the water, the loud noise screeching in the kitchen. You dropped the knife and heard it clack onto the ground. All you did was stand there with wide eyes and shaky legs, looking down at the ground as your nails dug into the counter.

You couldn’t bear him children-you tried and tried and tried but to no avail. If you were not Dick’s, then what were you?

---------

Dick had taken off his trench coat, sliding his shoes off as he neatly put them right next to yours. He let out a sigh as he loosened his tie. Work had been stressful once again. All he could think about was seeing you and his growing little babies. Of course, he never told anybody. But knowing the thought was between you and him made it special-something so personal and beautiful. He couldn’t wait to see your face and hold you close, talking for hours on end. Anything you said or did made him head over heels, just like it had done to you five years ago. You had been distant and not your usual self, and Dick was worried. He knew of the insecurities you had, feeling like you never had fit into a certain mold.

He had walked into the kitchen and instead of finding you, he found a dropped knife and kettle that was overflowing with boiling water. It looked like you had left in a hurry. He made sure to check all of the doors to see if you had left, in which you had no. In a calm manner, Dick cleaned up the kettle and put the knife back where it was. He wanted to help so you wouldn’t stress.

The pitter-patter of the shower coming from upstairs alerted Dick. He walked up the stairs and down the dark hallway, seeing the bathroom light creak from the bathroom. Creaking the door open, the all to familiar noise hit his ears. The bathroom was foggy as the shower ran. Looking down, Dick saw the water come to his feet, staining his wet socks. Your flats were spread on the ground along with your knit cardigan, soggy from the water. Inside of the shower was you, clothed with your makeup running, hugging your knees as you looked down.

Dick let out a soft sigh as he looked at you, his shoulder slouching down. It was paining him to see you in this state, “Oh honey..”

You didn’t move, only your eyes did. He walked towards you, into the shower. He wore a white suit and dress pants, which were now we're stuck to his skin. He put himself right next to you as the hot water warmed his cold skin. You adjusted yourself to lean on his wet shoulder. Dick said there as you leaned on him for comfort, listening to the white noise of the shower.

“I tried,” You mumbled as your fingers ran circles in his arm.

Dick looked down at you with his strawberry hair sticking to his forehead and drips of water rushing down his face. He frowned, tiping his head to the side.

“I tried and tried, time after time. I tried so hard and I…” You lamented, grasping onto Dick’s arm. It was hard to spit out the words. You had already said the first half of it, you needed to say more. “I just can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Do what?” Dick questioned, his fingers lifting your chin. Tears streamed down your cheeks, your mascara coming down along with it. His thumb wiped away the incoming hot tears. He was too kind to you. His mere presence reassured you. “Don’t cry, my little wife. Let me help you. Whatever it is, whatever you need, I-”

“I can’t have children. Not now, or ever.” The words came out your mouth. It felt like you were spitting fire. It felt strange like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. Even though it was gone, it still lingered. “I went to the doctor last week. I’m infertile, Dick.”

Dick just sat with a frown on his face. You couldn’t tell what was going through his head. His free arm had wrapped around your shoulder was slowly falling as he let go of your chin, making an “oh” noise.

You looked at him and let out a sob as your face fell into your hands. “I didn’t wanna tell you. I know you’ve wanted children, every man wants that for their wife. You want a son who looks like you, and a wife who can provide that for you. I can’t. I wanted it too, but I watched my dream break. I’m supposed to give you a baby like a normal wife should...” Through the sniffling and sobs, you refused to look at Dick. He seemed disappointed, but you could never tell what he was feeling. “If you want a wife who can give you a child, then, by all means, do so. I’m worthless.”

You could feel it. Your relationship was over. Maybe it was for the better. Dick could start his family, and you could work a job in Philadelphia. They did have an opening in Philadelphia. It was better to have nobody-so you couldn’t get hurt and hurt others around you.

“No,”

Slowly removing your hands from your face, you turned to Dick. You scooted back, not able to tell if he was upset at you. “No?”

“No. You’re not worthless, y/n.” Dick attested, “What would make you think such a thing?”

“We’ve always wanted a family down the line. You would kiss my stomach every night, talking to the...” You looked down at your flat stomach, your hand gently squeezing the skin. It broke your heart even more just feeling what Dick assumed was Margaret and Thomas. “Just didn’t want you to get mad at me. I know you're upset with me.”

“Don’t give me that malarkey,” He growled, crawled closer to you as he grabbed your cheeks with your foreheads nuzzling towards each other. You could feel the warmth on the top of your forehead, “I’m not upset. You didn’t have to hide this from me. I should’ve known, I’m so sorry sweetheart.”

Dick tenderly grabbed your shoulders and leaned you back on the white subway wall. He was gentle as he wiped the sticky hair from your face for a clearer view. He had a soft smile as he caressed your cheek with you leaning into it.

“But if I can’t give you children, what good use am I?”

“The reason I married you wasn’t that I wanted a family. At that moment, in that cornfield, I wanted you to be my wife. If I didn’t tell you, I don’t know if I would’ve died content with my life,” Dick complimented with a kiss to your wet hand. “You're not just a pawn used for children-my little wife. Just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean I won’t leave you. I wouldn’t even consider the thought. It’d be hard to find someone like you, y/n. Nobody as hardworking, beautiful, and fiery”

A chuckle escaped your lips, “Like a cornfield?”

“Like a cornfield,” He assured. “I don’t care about children, the past, the future, anything. I married you because I was in love with the beautiful, growing woman five years ago, and I still am. All I care about is my little wife, y/n-you. I love you.”

You nuzzled into his shoulder, “I..love you too, Dick.”

Silent communication was your and Dick’s form of romance. You didn’t need big gestures and materialistic gifts to feel comforted, sometimes you just needed someone right next to you, or in your arms. The silence was nice and the warmth was needed. Dick’s warmth felt like a little touch of heaven, warm, together, cozy. You wished that you could extend the night just so you could stay in his comforting embrace, relived in his hold. In his hold, you believed that there is nothing to fear, that there is all sunshine and love. Dick was the cure you needed, a lone star in an otherwise empty sky, he was the morningstar that you prayed wouldn’t disappear.

“I’ll make us dinner,” Dick said as he got up. “I’ll even run you a bath. Does that sound good, my little wife?”

Your fingers held the tip of his hands. Your (y/c/e)‘s met with his mint ones that shined in the pristine light. He gently helped you up with a hand resting on your waist.

Resting a hand on his chin, you looked down and shook your head. “I want to make dinner with you. I feel clean.”

“Are you sure?” Dick questioned, pulling you closer to his body. “I know you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Well I’m not tired. I haven’t felt like we’ve talked lately. You’ve been gone and I’ve been distant.” You confessed. The brutally honest was needed now. You tipped your head to look at Dick. “I wouldn’t mind a helping hand.”

“Fine, if you insist,” He placed his hand on your upper back and swept you off your fear. You let out a little chuckle as you snaked an arm around his shoulder for stability, “You said you needed a helping hand.”

Once you and Dick changed out of your wet clothes and into your matching silk robes (gifted by Lew, the man even had your initials engraved into the pocket), the two of you headed down to the kitchen to cook. The radio played in the back and the kettle silently brewed as you sautéed the chicken and Dick set the small table in the tiny dining space.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Yeah?” You looked behind you as you washed your hands of the greasy oils and spices.

“Did you grow up with dogs?”

You nodded as you dried your hands, “Two-a Westie and Cairn terrier. Your point?”

Dick came over the counter as he leaned on it with a smirk. It wasn’t condescending, but it looked like an idea had popped in his head. You loved it when he smirked or smiled; the dimples on his cheeks would show.

“I know you get lonely when I’m not around. Lew knows a lot of good breeders in the area. How do two dogs sound?”

You were lonely. Loneliness was a feeling you knew all too well. It haunted you as a child and adult. Except when you were a child, you thought it would disappear. But in truth, it did not.

“Two dogs sound nice, Dick,” You confessed. The kettle began to make a shrieking noise. Walking over, you grabbed two cups and poured hot water into them. The water from clear to a darkish brown. You let the bags settle for a few minutes before taking the two cups over and handing one to your strawberry blonde husband.

“There breed? Are we sure Lew won’t try and steal them?”

“Well, Lew wouldn’t steal them. He and Grace already have enough animals to take care of,” Dick put his two big hands around the mug. “Two terriers, a boy, and girl. Just like the ones you grew up with.”

“Ok,” You smiled, raising your eyebrows. “And their names?”

Dick took a sip of his tea before smacking his thin lips. “I was thinking of Margaret and Thomas. Do you like that?”

You finally knew the answer to why Dick was asking about getting dogs. Not that you were in protest. Dogs were like children-just easier to take care of.

“Yeah, I like that a lot.”

Dick put a hand over yours, giving it a reassuring squeezed. He smiled at you, and you smiled back.

Within the week, Lew had come over with the cutest puppies you had ever seen. He had also brought over all of the necessary supplies for two puppies, and even two sweaters with their names. One was a feisty and quiet Westie named Thomas and the other was a sweetheart with a sour side named Margaret. You and Dick loved them more than anything in the world. They were fed Filet Mignon from the table, slept in between you and Dick, and always for what they wanted. Even Dick gave into their puppy eyes whenever they got into trouble. The reason he wanted dogs in the first place was for his little wife; y/n-you. Not only did he want to make you feel a little less lonely in your little colonial house, but protected. Dick wasn’t always there to look out for you, even though he knew you could handle yourself just fine. Still, it was the thought that counted. Knowing that you would have two little balls of energy to keep you entertained made Dick content, and so did you.

Lewis Nixon was right all along. He never saw you and Dick having children. In his wise words, dogs were “far superior” than children. Dogs didn’t cry as much, they weren’t as needy, and they didn’t wake you up in the middle of the night. Mostly.

You would see the way the dogs would interact with Dick, and how Dick would interact with them. He’d treat them like children. From rocking Margaret in his arms to having long conversations with Thomas about why he shouldn’t bite you his mother while you peacefully sleep, it made your heart skip a beat, seeing Dick be so gentle with the two puppies.

Every night before you would head to bed, Dick would always remind you that his dream had finally come true; buying the little patch of land in Lancaster for the farm was within reach. He’d give you a kiss and pull you close as the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

You broke away from the terrifying cliff that you had looked down, heading towards your morning star, Dick, with hope that it wouldn’t disappear.

#dick winters x reader #richard winters x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #richard winters imagine #my writing #oh gosh this is painful #also listen to wife by mitski #y'know if u wanna even cry harder #all aborad the angst train #*sad choo choo*

120 notes · View notes

itslunarwritesstuff · 5 years ago

Text

Movie night

Prompt: “This movie is really scary, but you’re so into it I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time but- WHAT IS THAT”

Word Count: 2,600

Pairing: Shawn Hunter x Fem! Reader

Summary: Weekly movie night at Y/N’s house isn’t exactly what Shawn planned when Y/N picks a horror movie for them to watch. The thing is Shawn hates gore-filled horror movies they scare him half to death but refuses to bruise his ego by telling her and not wanting to disappoint his girl.

Contains: Fluff, Cuddling, Hair playing, and braiding.

Y/N/N: Your nickname Y/C/H: Your color hair

Y/L/N: Your last name

___________________________________________________________________________________

It’s the last class period of the day and thankfully it is a Friday so the weekend is coming shortly.

Y/N is separating her books between what she needs for the weekend and not.

When she is finished she swings around with her backpack on her shoulders and runs face-first

into someone.

Books flying onto the ground and Y/N’s body as well, it takes her a moment to register that this has actually happened and then she sits up pulling her shirt back down to cover her exposed stomach that must have ridden up from the fall.

That someone is quick to bend down and offer her a hand up and help with her books, that someone being Shawn Hunter her boyfriend of only a few short weeks but a friend of much longer.

“Y/N I’m so sorry are you okay” he apologizes.

“No worries honey” Y/N smiles up at him.

Shawn turns his head as to not look directly at her, his face full of embarrassment from her falling and the casual nickname.

Mustering up some courage to speak he grabs her books off of the tiled floor and says “So are we still having movie night at your house tonight”?

Shawn hands Y/N the stray books and notebooks and she answers “Yuppers, my parents gave me the okay the other night, and get this! They’re letting us use the basement with the bigger TV; perfect for ‘The Gore Saga: Knife to meet you’”!

Trying to convey the same excitement as she is Shawn lies right through his teeth saying “That sounds awesome, I can’t wait”.

For a little background, Shawn hates horror movies with gore. Paranormal he can deal with, maybe even psychological thrillers, anything but gore. But it was Y/N’s turn to pick the movie and he didn’t want to be the one to ruin anything for her. So no matter how much he squirmed and cringed he decided he will not say a word on the matter; for her sake and his, he did have his own pride to look out for as well.

After all of her belongings were stowed away in her backpack she swung the object back over her shoulders and turns her head over towards Shawn’s then spots Cory and Topanga.

Y/N wouldn’t want to leave her friends out so she tells Shawn “I think we should invite Cory and Topanga, I think it would be fun to have the four of us hanging out”.

Before Shawn could protest she was already walking over to the infamous couple.

Shawn usually wouldn’t be against having his two best friends come along but knew if he chickened out they would most definitely poke fun at him and his pride couldn’t take that hit. Also, he wanted to be alone with Y/N cause the difference between tonight and the other movie nights they have had; is Y/N’s parents were gone for the weekend. And Y/N’s older siblings would be the ones “watching them” which meant they could basically do whatever they wanted. Which meant he gets to spend the night, per Y/N’s request of course.

“Hey Y/N, Shawn how are you guys”? Topanga asks.

“Besides falling back there, Doing pretty good. Hey, we wanted to ask you two a question” Y/N answers.

“Okay shoot”.

“So Shawn and I are having a movie night tonight and was wondering if you guys wanted to join us.”

While Y/N said this Shawn stood behind her swinging his arms and overtly mouthing the word “No”.

Cory is confused and doesn’t get the memo and almost says yes but Topanga gets the hint that Shawn wants to be alone with Y/N for the night and jabs her boyfriend in the side.

“We actually have our own date planned tonight but thank you for the offer,” the girl opposite Y/N says.

Cory still doesn’t get the memo and says “We do”?

“Yes Cory, remember”?

“No actually, which is alarming cause I remember anything and everything Topanga related,” Cory says with a genuinely worried expression on his face scratching his head.

Topanga leans over and whispers in her partner’s ear, a sudden look of understanding coming over him.

“Right that date thing” Cory laughs and says “You two have fun...lots of fun” a cheeky smile insinuating something else and walking away behind Topanga.

“Was he being weirder than usual or was that just me” Y/N turned and asked Shawn.

“It was definitely him, Trust me”.

“Okay, will you walk me home. I really don’t want to take the bus today”.

“Yeah of course. One second let me just grab my bag from my locker”.

After Shawn grabs his backpack filled with his overnight things and his books that Y/N made him begrudgingly put in there too; they head towards her house.

It is a nice spring day the only downside was the slight chill in the air despite it being sunny outside.

Even though Y/N had a sweatshirt on she was still freezing, it was as if Shawn sensed this and put his arm around her shoulder her hand coming up to interlock their fingers. They walked in sync staying close on the narrow sidewalk. Most of the walk was silent because they spoke through touch and subtle glances.

When they arrived at Y/N’s house her parents were still home but there was no worry, they trusted the two teenagers and her parents just adored Shawn. They wanted Y/N to be with Shawn before Y/N even knew she wanted to be with him.

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N almost ready for your weekend getaway,” Shawn asked her parents when they entered the house. Suitcases were lined up next to the front door.

“Almost, we are just going down our checklist making sure we don’t forget anything.” Y/N’s Mom said frantically checking boxes on the slip of paper in her hand.

“We left money on the kitchen table for food tonight, so you guys order whatever you want for your movie night” Y/N’s Dad informed them.

“Thank you, Dad. Love you guys have a safe trip” their daughter pulled each of her parents into individual hugs.

Her Mom gives Shawn a hug as well “Love you Shawn, be good okay” he nods and returns the squeeze. Y/N’s family has always been there with open arms for the Hunter boy since they were kids. He even stayed with them for a while as well as the Matthews when his Dad went looking for his Mom a while back.

Y/N’s Dad opted out for the hug and gives Shawn a handshake instead saying “The Gore Saga huh, you’re a braver man than I am Shawn. I have no idea how she enjoys those movies”.

Shawn just laughed as the adults made their way out of the house.

Later after the pair have eaten and gotten everything set up; blankets and pillows on the couch, refreshments, and the rented VHS tape of ‘The Gore Saga: Knife to meet you’.

Shawn gulped on the couch while Y/N slid the tape into the VCR; she hurried back over to the couch excitedly and all of Shawn’s fear disappeared when she hopped onto the couch next to him. Her smile wider than ever and her head rested on his lap, he distracted himself from the film by running his fingers through her hair. Sometimes making short little braids then pulling them apart right after, and for the most part, his tactic worked. Until she sat up and stretched out next to him to make herself more comfortable, he didn’t have her touch to soothe him anymore.

(Warning descriptions of gore coming up)

After a few minutes a pretty gruesome scene unfolded on the screen in front of them; its the part of the movie where the killer gets one of the dumb ones who run into every trap he has set while trying to run away, and this guy was now being ran through a humongous factory meat grinder...and he’s dead. Blood, guts, and bones is all that comes out of the other end.

Shawn could no longer keep his composure he was bugging big time, but when he looked over at Y/N he saw the opposite expression on her face. Where his face was full of disgust and fear, hers, on the other hand, was full of glee and joy. Who would have known that the sweet Y/N Y/L/N was a gore fan, the same girl who cried when they were nine because some kids destroyed an anthill at recess.

Again he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Y/N”? he softly pleaded her name.

She turned her body towards him her eyes barely leaving the screen she was so captivated.

“Yes, Shawnie” she continues.

“Could you please come back over here and let me hold you or you could hold me, Even better”! Shawn reached out for Y/N desperately.

Scooting back over to her guy she motions for him to lay on her lap and god does he! He clasps his arms around her left one holding it against his chest. She senses some of his discomfort, and she makes work by running her nails down his scalp and a rushed breath and hum escaped Shawn’s lips.

Putting her focus back on the TV while she continued soothing the boy who laid on her legs.

Another putrid scene of killings displays on the screen and Shawn jumps from underneath her.

“Shawn, Baby are you okay”? Y/N asks concerned her fingers brushing her sweet boys face.

“I’m sorry babe it’s just this movie is really scary, but you’re so into it I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time but- WHAT IS THAT”! Shawn screeches.

Y/N jumps at the shrill noise of his scream but cannot help but laugh shortly after.

He is just too adorable sometimes, she would have never thought her hot shot of a boyfriend would be squeamish of a little gore.

Never the less she smiled at him still clinging her arm to his chest while his head laid on her lap.

“Babe, are you okay,” she asked still giggling.

“Yes …” another blood splatter to the screen made Shawn jolt yet again. His eyes showed defeat as he finished “...No, I mean. This gore stuff isn’t exactly my favorite.

“Well, why didn’t you just tell me that earlier, Duckie” Shawn always had a soft spot for that pet name it was one she didn’t use often but when she did it made his heart flutter beyond words.

“I didn’t want to ruin your fun, Y/N/N,” he said sheepishly.

“Oh, baby. That’s very sweet of you but I have plenty of other movies we could watch. I’ll finish this one another time, no big deal” Y/N let out a breathy laugh at just Shawn being Shawn, and the whole ��I’ll watch it because you enjoy it’ thing made her stomach flip.

Giving Shawn another option she says “How about a romantic comedy”? Shawn nodded his head frantically. He would deny it if anyone else knew but Y/N knew Rom/Coms were secretly his favorite.

Sadly he peeled his body away from hers so she could go and eject the tape and put the new one in. After sliding in the much less graphic film she was less than surprised that she saw Shawn waiting for her to cuddle him on the couch, he had moved from one end to the other where the couch had an ‘L’ shape so they could hold each other while still being able to watch the movie.

But she wasn’t complaining, whenever she got to touch Shawn in this sweet innocent way she felt like when you do when you’re at home safe and most of the time drowsy.

She laid there in between his leg; back laid back against his chest. He had his arms around her torso playing with her fingers that laid relaxed on her sides, and his face was buried into her hair.

“Shawn darling, what are you doing” she giggled at the tickle of his nose brushing her jawline while he smelled her cascading locks. “Mhm your hair smells so good, and it’s so soft.” his hands slip away from her sides as he starts to comb through the Y/C/H that covered Y/N’s shoulders. After he got all the small knots out, he started braiding her hair again but this time all together instead of little strands.

Y/N tried her best to pay attention to the love story in front of them but was more distracted by her own, right here in her basement. If she were coyer and the movie wasn’t on she would most likely jump this boy, just to shower him in kisses.

After a while long after Shawn had stopped playing with her hair, Y/N relaxed into his frame, her hands and legs tangled with his underneath the heavy but comfortable knitted blanket on top of them.

Then came a scene where the guy and the girl have their first kiss and with all of the emotion that’s been building up, they physically cannot keep their lips off of one another and a makeout session ensues.

Just thinking about Shawn kissing her made Y/N instantly blush, even if they were way past first kisses.

And now Y/N was the one who couldn’t hold it together anymore, she needed kisses Now.

Turning in Shawn’s arms she misplaces his head from the crook of her neck where every once and while leave soft little pecks across the splay of skin on her neck and jaw. And it was making Y/N’s body flush with anticipation, but nothing came of it.

Shawn looked surprised that Y/N had moved but all he softly said was “Baby whats wrong? Do you not like the movie”? And he tucked the loose hair around her face back behind her ear. His hand lingered on her cheek thumb grazing the almost invisible baby hairs that tickled while he does so.

Instead of answering his question Y/N leans in slightly, puts her arms around his neck and toys with the hair at the nape of his neck sending shivers down his spine.

Knowing what she wants, she makes eye contact with the beautiful boy in front of her and asks “Can I have a kiss please” with the softest voice because she is still afraid he might say no and he is allowed to say no.

Wasting absolutely no time he closes the gap between them as he cups her face with one hand and the other holding her lower back in a way to balance her almost. Their lips moved as one and Y/N couldn’t help but smile into the kiss a giggle about to pop because of her happiness.

But before she could, Shawn was laughing and he had to pull away to compose himself.

Y/N chuckled with him “What’s so funny huh”?

“You’re just so cute and polite. I love that you always ask me before kissing me. And honestly its sometimes surreal that you’re my girl ya know, I mean look at ya.”

“You aren’t so bad yourself Hunter. And I enjoy being ‘Your girl’ very much”.

Y/N fanned her hands out on Shawn’s chest keeping some distance between them while they spoke so she could see him properly.

Shawn leaned back in asked “May I kiss you, Princess” “Of course” she answered shortly attaching her lips back to his in a hurry.

It’s safe to say that the movie was long forgotten for the rest of the night, they were too wrapped up with each other.

#shawn hunter #shawn hunter imagine #shawn hunter x reader #shawn hunter fanfiction #shawn hunter fanfic #boy meets world #boy meets world imagine #boymeetworld #boy meets world fanfic #boy meets world one shot #imagine #imagines #fanfiction #writing #writer #fangirl #90s

649 notes · View notes

paodequeijofeliz-blog · 4 years ago

Note

Could you maybe write a fic of kamilah x mc where it’s their daughter’s parent teacher evening and kamilah is late due to traffic or a meeting and one of the teachers is openly flirting with mc in front of kamilah and kamilah scares the man in some way.(possessive kamilah)😂🔥🔥

Warnings: a little bit of violence. Not much.

“How long will it take, mommy?” Lysia was sitting on the hallway bench, her short legs bouncing in the air since they couldn’t reach the floor.

“Probably about an hour, sweetie. Why don’t you go play with your other classmates at the playground?” Annie was kneeled in front of the bench, holding both of her little hands.

The girl looked over her mother’s shoulder, pondering the idea for half a second before shaking her head and pulling the fairy tales book from her pretty yellow backpack. “No, I don’t want to. I’ll stay here reading. Can I?”

“Of course you can. Do you want me to swipe you some cookies from the meeting?”

“Hmmm the chocolate ones. Please.”

“Sure thing.” Annie kissed the tip of her nose before going through the door right next to the bench, where the parent-teacher meeting would take place.

Most of them were already there, and so was the teacher, Ms. Lins. She was the first to greet the woman who walked in, giving her a tight familiar hug, for they knew each other way before that. “Hi, Ann! Where’s Kamilah?”

“Hey, Kay. Well, Kami is…” Annie took her phone out of the pocket, checking the last message. “…late. Sorry, this week is being hard for her, a major client walked out on the last second.”

“No worries. Are you two still in for the picnic on Saturday? We can reschedule if you need…”

“No, no, no more rain checks. Lysia loves to play with Sunny, and I miss you, we haven’t been able to hang out ever since I left NYU.”

“That’s true, I miss you too. Well, let me know if something happens, alright?”

Slowly, everybody took their sits in the classroom, with Annie preferring to stay in the back, as closer to the coffee table as possible. Ms. Lins gave them a full update on the children’s development, their advancements and difficulties, a few issues regarding biting or pushing the classmates… Lysia’s name only came up to reinforce how well she was doing on her piano lessons, a compliment made by Ms. O’Malley, the music teacher. Other teachers were there too, the P.E. one, Ms. Roberts, the teacher’s assistant, Mr. Raymond, and someone beside all of them that Annie didn’t recognize. It was a tall man in a blue sweater, whose eyes kept coming back to her every now and again.

After half an hour, Kayla announced they were having a bake sale and needed to draw who would be in charge of bringing what. “Parents, feel welcome to go serve yourselves some coffee and cookies in the back while I write down the names for the draw.”

Annie didn’t lose time to refresh her cup, pretending she didn’t steal a couple ones before time while they were still talking about the kids.

“I see what you did there. Should I call the cops?” the man in the blue sweater approached her, a warm smile on his face. “It’s a major crime to steal coffee in a school meeting.”

“Oh, well, I’ll just have to add this one to my huge list of murders and trespassing.” Annie chuckled. It wasn’t just a joke.

“Aren’t you a rebel? I should be careful then.” He extended his hand, and when she reached out to shake it, the man held it for a little longer than normal. “Elias. Nice to meet you…?”

“Anna Sayeed. I’m Lysia’s mother.”

“Oh, right. I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Ms. Sayeed.”

“It’s actually Mrs…”

But he didn’t let Annie finish the sentence.

“She’s fantastic, absolutely talented. I don’t think the regular piano lessons are enough for her anymore. I’m the music teacher for older kids, mostly High School, but we have the project to make a mix class with the best students from all grades to play together. Lysia would do wonderful there.”

“That’s… Something to think about. I need to check with her what she likes best.”

“Sure, not a problem. If you don’t mind me saying, that kid is really lucky to have a great mother like you. Kayla told me about your lectures at NYU.” Elias took a step closer, enjoying how they were a little bit out of sight because of a column. “You’re a bold woman, Anna.”

“Thanks.” She sipped the coffee, feeling her cheeks blush over the unexpected compliment. “I used to be way more fearless back then. Had a bad temper though.”

“I see. And now you’re only playing by the rules?”

“I… Yes?”

Annie was getting confused by that conversation. Her attention was so focused in reading what Elias was implying that she didn’t even notice Kamilah arriving. The Vampire was standing by the door, arms crossed as she watched the stranger getting closer and closer to her wife. There was something in the way his eyes were roaming Annie’s face, searching for something, that disgusted her deeply. Every time he took a step forward, the woman in front of him would take a small step back, until she reached the column.

Kamilah was not liking the situation already. It only got worse when Elias put a hand on Annie’s shoulder, caressing it in a way that made her cringe by instinct. The woman was too polite and shy to say anything that could cause a scene, so she only dropped ger gaze to the floor, staring at her own feet to not let him make eye contact.

It was bad enough to see a man trying to hit on her wife, but the audacity to make her uncomfortable like that��

“I’m sorry about the delay, my love.” Kamilah pulled her by the waist and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek, keeping a possessive hand on her hips to send a message. “Did I miss much?”

“Oh, not at all. We were just discussing Lysia’s piano lessons.” There was relief on Annie’s voice. “Uhm, this is Elias, he’s a music teacher here. Elias, this is my wife, Kamilah.”

He hesitated for a second, nodding at the tall woman, but didn’t offer his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sayeed.”

The Vampire nodded back but didn’t respond. She wasn’t very pleasured to meet that man. “Is something wrong with Lysia’s lessons?”

“No, she’s doing great. They’re just giving us the option of moving her to more advanced classes.”

“Exactly, and as I was saying, it would be really good for her. I can make an appointment with you to explain things better later, Anna. Then I can answer all of your questions.” His smile and features seemed nice, but Kamilah wasn’t buying it. All she heard was an invitation for Annie to be alone with him. “I can assure you, Lysia would love to take the advanced classes.”

“With you.” That wasn’t a question, but rather a cold affirmation. The Egyptian was still staring at Elias with an unpleasant look on her face, pulling her wife a little bit closer.

“Yes.” He cleaned his throat, fixing the posture, but it didn’t matter, Kamilah was still taller than him. “With me.”

“We will discuss about it later.” Annie jumped ahead before things got bad, already able to read her wife’s thoughts from there. Thankfully, Kayla interrupted that awkward conversation by calling the parents back to do the draw. “We should check it.”

“Why don’t you go ahead? I’ll serve myself some coffee first.” The Vampire gave her a soft kiss, watching as she happily approached the others, so excited to know what her task would be.

Elias’s gaze also accompanied the woman. The man took the opportunity to dodge and flee, finding an excuse and leaving the room. Little did he know that Kamilah wasn’t going to let it go easily. She didn’t appreciate strangers touching her wife or cornering her like that. Without making a sound, the Vampire also left the classroom, her disappearance unnoticed since Annie was too busy rooting and waiting to hear her own name.

“Wha-” Elias’s eyes widened when he was pulled by the back of his neck and pushed against the wall. “What the hell?!”

“Listen to me very carefully, you bastard.” Kamilah stood so close, all he could see was those brown eyes glaring with such an intensity it almost seemed like they were a little reddish. One of her hands was still holding the man by the neck, while the other pointed a long fingernail at his face. “You never touch a woman without her permission first, especially during a parent-teacher meeting when she is so obviously trying to step back. Don’t try playing stupid with me. The next time you put a hand on my wife again…”

“You’ll beat the shit out of me?” he smirked, not nearly aware of the danger.

The Vampire’s grip tightened, causing the man to cough and lift his head for air. She let him feel the despair for a few seconds before releasing his breath again. As Kamilah took a step back, her eyes wondered the marks left on his neck, following them until finally reaching his scared gaze.

“Not me. She will. Anna can have you crying on the floor before you even notice what happened. Don’t be mistaken. You were lucky there was a crowd there. Pull this off again when there’s no one around and you will find out how well I trained her for combat. Now get the hell out of my sight.” She opened a dangerous smile, resting the hands on her hips as watched Elias stumble on his way out.

Just then, the Vampire’s hearing captured a familiar sound. A calm and steady breathing.

Kamilah sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, turning around to see Lysia on the bench. The girl was peacefully reading her favourite fairy tales’ book, and only closed it when felt her mother’s hand on her cheek. She looked up to find a soft smile on the face of someone who was threatening a man’s life a minute ago. “Baby…”

“She forgot my cookies.”

“What?” Lysia pointed at the door with her chin. “Oh, your mom. She promised you cookies?”

“Yes, chocolate ones. Can you get me some? I’m hungry.”

“Of course, my love.” The Vampire leaned to kiss the top of her head, lifting the girl’s face so their eyes would meet. “I’m sorry about what you saw here. I taught you that vio…”

“Violence is wrong. I know. You also taught me that no one can touch me without permission.” She offered a sweet smile, those puppy dark eyes shining against the light. “Maybe now he won’t forget it.”

“You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. I’ll bring you a bunch of cookies.”

“Thanks, mommy!”

Kamilah took her into a long and protective tight hug.

Not even God could help anyone who ever dared hurting her girls.

#choices: stories you play #kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #bb kamilah #choices kamilah #choices: bb #I hope you like it 💛#now there is just one more Kamilah request (which will be fluff and funny)#and a Charlieeeee

86 notes · View notes

cutie1365 · 5 years ago

Text

A Kid from Queens Part 15

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: n/a

(no Far From Home spoilers)

A/N: There’s one part where maybe pretend you have an ‘A’ initial, this idea was written more for my OC on Wattpad, so I’m sorry, but I kinda love it so I didn’t wanna change it.

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Where are you headed all dressed up?” Tony asks as you’re leaving your room at the compound.

“All dressed up? Dad this is a suit.” You laughed him off, he walked with you as you were making your way towards the front to board the jet.

“Alright Scully, where are you headed? Did I miss a memo for a shareholder meeting or something?” Tony asked.

Ever since you’d presented the information to him about the Mayor, he had been extra protective. But you’d done as he suggested, you turned the information over to the FBI. They suggested that for the time being, you keep up with Thomas and the family for appearances sake, to not cause suspicion. You told this to your father. What you didn’t tell him was that the FBI invited you to aid in the investigation, due to your proximity to the case you’d be useful. Also considering they were likely stealing from a government warehouse that was half Stark owned and maintained. You’d be a good person to have on board, and your commitment would be minimal. You’d publically stay with Thomas until they told you it was time to distance yourself, meaning they’d found something or want to provoke the family into making a mistake and slipping up, hopefully exposing a hole in their network they could exploit. You thought it was a good idea, you also thought it would be best for your father’s nerves if you didn’t tell him the full story.

“I guess someone doesn’t read their emails. But no, Linda has me judging the annual robotics competition at MIT, so it’s Back to School for me.” You spoke, digging through your purse, making sure you had everything, your suitcase should have already been on the jet, but you were only going to be gone for a few days.

Tony nodded, as if he now remembered seeing something about that somewhere. He saw the jet on the tarmac, ready to take off any minute as you both stood before the glass entrance of the compound.

“Alright Animal House, no toga parties.” He hugged you goodbye, you chuckled at the thought of a bunch of engineers throwing a toga party.

“I’ll try my best. I’ll be back in a few days. Oh, and tell Wanda I left a box of clothes for her in my room. And I made a prototype of an upgrade for Rhodey’s braces that I left in the lab for you to do some testing on.” You began to ramble off things for him, knowing there was a low chance he’d remember everything.

“Alright mother hen, you don’t want to be late.” He hugged you once more, shooing you off.

You made your way to the jet, as Tony watched you from a distance. His little girl, all grown up. He hadn’t seen you this happy in a while, it brought a smile to his face. Ever since he’d practically ordered you to stay away from Peter, he noticed a change in you. You spent so much time in the lab, tinkering on things to take your mind off of life. You were rushed around from interview to interview, dress fitting to dress fitting, and photoshoot to photoshoot. He noticed the toll it was taking on you. He hated seeing you so run down, and nearly considered giving the kid a chance. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad, it worked for him and Pepper, it might just be able to work for them. He’s a good kid, but he’s not willing to take a chance yet, not when it comes to his daughters safety. He’s kept you safe for a long time, and he didn’t want to ever see you hurt again.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

As you arrived in Boston, after a quick flight, a car was waiting to take you the rest of the way to MIT.

The car pulled into the familiar streets where you’d resided for a few years when you were younger. You hadn’t been back in years, yet it all looked the same. Near the entrance you spotted some of your old professors chatting, likely they were also judges.

“Y/N.” One greeted you, his expression somewhere between surprise and joy.

“Dr. Greenfield, it’s nice to see you again.” You smiled, shaking his hand.

“You’re all grown up now aren’t you. You know, I still remember your first day in my class. I had to go home and rework half of my lesson plans.” He chuckled at the memory. You remembered sitting in his class, answering all his questions that were meant to stump the class. He was a sweet older man, and you were happy to be here with him now.

You chatted and caught up for a few more minutes before you were invited inside to check in and meet the teams. You were given a metal name plate that you slipped on. Dr. A. Stark, it read.

You met the other 5 judges and mingled for a bit while the teams were still setting up in their prospective rooms. Some were industry experts, some were old professors of yours. Each judge had been assigned to a team, to mentor and offer insight and guidance before the final judging in two days time.

When a facilitator led you into a room of five boys standing in front of their invention, you weren’t met with the warm welcome you were expecting.

“Gentleman, I’d like to introduce you to your mentor Dr.-” The facilitator was cut off by one of the boys, he seemed to be the ringleader of the group.

“No, no, our mentor is Dr. A. Stark. Anthony Stark. Not some...” He waved his hand at you, trying to think of the best descriptor, “Vogue cover girl.”

You’d had a nice day so far, you were willing to let it slide, but when he opened his mouth and spoke to you with such disrespect, you were going to make him wish he’d called in sick today. The facilitator, likely a student committee volunteer, had her mouth hung open slightly in shock, she didn’t know what to do. So you stepped forward towards the boys, and that’s exactly what they were.

“You got Dr. A. Stark. Y/N (I’m sorry my OC has an A initial) Stark. My father actually doesn’t have a PhD. But I’ve got two. One of them in Electrical Engineering from this fine university.” You raised your hands motioning to the school around you, stepping closer once more, and oh if looks could kill. “But if you don’t want my help, I’m sure there are other teams who would be happy to have me...”

You turned on your heel and made one strutt towards the door before whipping around once more.

“By the way, you’re going to need the help, because I can spot six errors already from here. Seven if you count that sloppy rotary potentiometer.” And with that, you spun towards the door once more and didn’t look back at what you were certain were five speechless boys nearly shaking in their boots.

You’d certainly inherited a flair for the dramatics from your father, but this time it was merely a facade. Deep down you were on the verge of tears. This was your livelihood, you didn’t care if the civilian population thought you were some brainless covergirl, but you at least thought the people in your own field would respect you. The opinion of five students shouldn’t have hit you as hard as it did, but it now had you questioning everything. Every move you’ve made since that damn photograph came out.

You were leaning on the wall in the stairwell, if you were going to cry, you were going to make sure none of them saw you do it. You suddenly heard the large metal door open next to you, and a student looked at you in shock.

“Dr. Stark?” He asked, he wasn’t one of the boys from before, he must have been on another team. You knew he wasn’t like the others, he at least seemed to recognize you and your title.

“That would be me.” You smiled, lifting yourself off the wall slightly.

“I read your paper on nanoparticle technology. I think it’s completely revolutionary, I mean the implications alone... I just, it blew my mind.” He smiled, you watched as he spoke so passionately, waving his hands about as he spoke. A smile slowly spread to your face as well. In his excitement, he’d forgotten to introduce himself. He was tall but lanky, with a dirty blond mop of hair resting on his head, and deep blue eyes.

“That was my doctoral thesis from a few years ago. Back then the idea was completely theoretical, but even today at Stark Industries we’re developing prototypes using only nanotech.” You stated proudly.

“How’d you get around the deterioration objective?” He asked, with a slight tilt of his head.

“A housing unit that harnesses palladium and vibranium to almost charge the particles.” You explained, enjoying watching his eyes pop as you explained. It was refreshing talking to someone who spoke your language.

“That’s brilliant. It’s really such an honor to meet you. I know my team and I would be grateful if you would be able to spare a few minutes to look at our design? Our mentor is just... well he doesn’t have your experience.” He rubbed the back of his head nervously.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You smiled, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Harley, Harley Keener.” He shook your hand with a smile.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Taglist in reblog

Please comment, like, and reblog!

Sorry this chapter is a little shorter, I’ve basically got the next one written but I thought it might be too long to combine them. Don’t worry Peter’s coming in soon!

136 notes · View notes

missdawnandherdusk · 5 years ago

Text

I’m Haunted

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Summary: Your world was perfect for a shining moment. Then that moment ended. You and Draco are tested against the true evils of the world and unforgivable curses.

A/N: To all of you who thought that last chapter was cute and fluffy had me cackling because I knew this was coming and I would say I’m sorry but that would be a lie. This is heavy angst and oh my goodness it feels good to write angst again. And this isn’t the entirety of the angst I have planned for these two. Anyway, I love you all so so much! This is also live on AO3! Also if you want a song to listen with this please enjoy Haunted by Taylor Swift

Warnings: Since this chapter is angsty I do want to warn against those of you who might trigger with depression or have self esteem battles. There is also sexual harassment but though it is terrible, it’s not the main focus. There will be resolve though, I promise. You battle is not over. Always keep fighting.

“You’re creating a draft dear,” Narcissa spoke softly, not looking up from The Daily Prophet.

“He hasn’t responded to my letter. And I still hear word that he is with this... this Lupine, the daughter of Jezebel herself!” Lucius sneered. “This is why I didn’t want to send him to that school. The fool Dumbledore doesn’t know how to run it properly.” Venom dripped from his words.

“Dumbledore has nothing to do with your son’s affair,” Narcissa noted.

“He’s making a fool of the family name Narcissa!” Lucius roared. “After everything that I have done for that boy!”

“Then why are you sitting here scolding me and not scolding at him?” She looked up from the newspaper with a stern cold glare.

“I’m going to put an end to this. This girl will rue the day she ever decided to talk to my son,” Lucius stormed upstairs, planning for the trip ahead.

“Just another Christmas,” She sighed and picked up the letter from Draco that she had received earlier and tucked it away before her husband could see it.

Mother,

I am sorry. But I won’t stop. This is my life.

Happy Christmas

Draco

~ ____________________________

A new song began once more, and Draco and I fell into step again. Hermione and I shared a passing smile as we passed another on the dance floor. The same shining look was shared in our eyes.

As the second, or maybe third, dance ended, Draco led us over to the table where Harry and Ron were sulking. Knowing better than to poke a sleeping bear, I sent Draco off to get drinks as I sat and rested, catching my breath.

“This is unbelievable. Hermione and Krum, you and Malfoy, is the entire world ending?” Ron muttered.

I laughed and patted his arm.

“It’s your own fault she’s not here with you.” I pointed out.

“What’s what supposed to mean?”

Ron didn’t have my attention though. Instead, my eyes met someone else’s. Blue, but older, crueler. My mood darkened as did my look as both Ron and Harry noticed.

“What is he doing here?” Harry asked standing.

“I’ll... I’ll be back,” I gritted out, standing.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Ron asked as I kept walking, not bothering to answer him.

I held my head high and took a deep breath, sifting through the thoughts, insults and curses that flitted through my head. I kept a cool distance between us, but it wasn’t enough. I could feel the hatred radiate off of him and seep into my skin.

“Mr. Malfoy,” I clenched my fists. “I wasn’t aware that you were coming tonight,”

“Obviously, you foolish girl,” He snapped and it had the effect of a slap to the face. His voice was the same as being dragged under the ice of a frozen lake: cold and unforgiving.

“My apologies.” I hissed taking another deep breath through my teeth. “But I do believe that parents were not invited tonight as it is a chance for the students from different schools to get to know another,” A placid smile graced my wicked tone.

“Mind your tongue little girl, you speak of things you do not understand,” He had the same look on his face that Snape did when he berated me in class, but this malice had no intention of construction behind it.

“And how would you know what I understand?” I answered coolly.

“Your foolish mother hid you away from our world. You do not belong among us and you do not belong with my son.” His words burned like acid on my heart.

“You have no authority over me, nor do you have authority to tell me who I am or where I belong Mr. Malfoy.” I retorted, determined and stubborn.

I wouldn’t show him that he got under my skin. I wouldn’t.

“Good night,” Mocking a bow I turned against my better judgement and headed back towards my friends and the fervor of the party.

“And where is my son now Miss Lupine?” There was a wickedly malicious tone in his words as a familiar grin curled on Lucius’ face.

I kept walking, however, pushing the conversation far from my mind and tried to find Draco and pull him away from this place and from his father. He deserved to be happy for a night and not have to fret about his father.

Harry looked like he was about to plan murder and Hermione’s face was crestfallen, as if she were close to tears.

“What?” I asked, harsher than I meant to.

“You need to see this,” Hermione whispered softly, taking my hand and leading me out of the Great Hall and to a side hallway that lead to the classrooms.

_____________________________________

Draco went over to the table with refreshments and waited beside Krum to get drinks, exchanging pleasantries.

“Imperio,” Draco froze.

Set the drinks down and find Pansy Parkinson. His father’s voice was in his mind, but this time he couldn’t ignore it. He had to obey.

Draco did as he was told. He found Pansy, who was smiling wickedly at him.

“Finally come to your senses then?” She purred.

Say yes. The voice hissed

Draco nodded.

“This is going to be so much fun. I am going to break her,” Pansy took Draco’s hand and led him to a hallway.

You will do whatever Pansy wishes from you. You will not question. You will not disobey.

But what about her? Who was Pansy talking about? Draco asked the voice of his father.

YOU WILL NOT ASK QUESTIONS!! The voice roared.

Draco complied. Something nagged at him, however. A loose thread that he pulled at. Her. Who was she? Why did he care? Why did she make being with Pansy feel wrong? Who was she?

Pansy pulled him close and pressed him against a wall. Her lips were on his and he couldn’t let go that this was wrong. This isn’t who he should be kissing.

You will not defy me. Kiss Pansy back. The voice hissed.

Against his will, Draco’s hands cradled Pansy’s face as he kissed her back, not letting go that this was wrong.

________________________________

I stopped.

My entire world stopped.

My breathing stopped.

My heart stopped.

“I’m so sorry Y/n,” Hermione whispered as she rubbed my arm.

I shook her off, tears pricking my eyes and anger growing in my chest as my breathing quickened.

“This... this can’t... he wouldn’t.” I breathed out.

__________________________________

Draco’s concentration broke as he heard her voice.

“He wouldn’t,” The voice said, sorrow coating them.

This was her. He knew it was her. The murkiness in his mind faded as he thought about knowing it was her. With the fading of muddiness came a burn that replaced it.

You will obey. His father hissed in his mind

You won’t hurt her! Draco roared back. Not... not her. Liquid fire coursed through his veins.

Lie to her. Tell her you don’t love her. Tell her she means nothing. Tell her she is worthless, and it was all a ploy. A trick. Nothing more than to watch her break into nothing before you.

Draco let go of Pansy and pushed her away, turning to her. A few short steps and she was a lot closer. Yet, she backed away, tears streaming down her face.

“I trusted you!” She screamed at him. “Was this all just a game!?”

Her words cut deep. They cut deeper than the ties that bound him to his father. This pain that her voice held, the pain that it caused him was stronger than anything he had ever felt.

Tell her it was a game. His father’s voice was fainter now.

No. Draco snarled, the defiance burning his insides.

“I loved you Draco! I let you in! For the first time in my life I let someone in! And you...” The agony of her words broke every chain, but the first three words freed him entirely.

I love you too, He thought softly.

“Y/n,” Draco whispered.

He watched as tears streamed down you face.

“Don’t,” You hissed. “Just... don’t even. Whatever this was... it’s over.”

Without a second going by you tore off the necklace that he had given you that morning and threw it at his feet before taking off down the hall, away from him. And he was frozen in his place, ringing in his ear, a headache piercing his mind but what brought him to his knees was the severing of something much more precious and breaking of something more sacred.

____________________________________

Again, I ran away from a fight

And I ran.

And ran.

Until the lights were far gone and I was alone.

Thoughts and doubts and demons were swirling in my mind. The same ones I had spent years controlling. Ones that I had spent years overcoming. Becoming stronger than.

And now their bonds were broken, and they were free.

You’re nothing and you always have been. You really think that anyone wants you like this? I told you that you’d never be happy. I don’t know why you ever tried. Every time you love someone you get hurt. You’re not meant to be happy. There’s no point.

I screamed a plea as I fell into the snow, my fingers digging into my hair, dislodging it painfully from the bun it was in, not that I noticed.

“There is a point!” I cried out, tears streaming down my face.

On my knees I curled up small, hunching over, sobs wracking through my chest.

“I deserve to be happy!” I screeched. “I like me! I love me! I am something worth living for!”

Again, and again I tried in vain to fight back against the demons that yanked me to the depths of hell.

“I know who I am! No one can take it away from me!” I bawled.

But did Draco just take it from you? That was the thought that had me on my knees. You trusted him and he ripped you to pieces. I told you not to trust anyone.

Draco. Draco... Draco.

“Draco,” I whimpered. “Why? Why? Why!?” Another strangled cry left my throat.

_____________________________

Draco miserably looked up, face to face with three furious Gryffindors and their wands.

“You absolute piece of shit!” Ron yelled. “How dare you!?”

“You don’t understand!” He leapt to his feet. “Merlin, I have to find her.” His thoughts began to race as he tried to think of where you would run to.

“Not a chance Malfoy,” Hermione sneered. “You’re not going near her!”

“And are you going to stop me?” He snarled, drawing his own wand.

Ron stepped in front of Hermione and Draco paused, taking a deep breath.

“Something... controlled me. It was in my head. I couldn’t fight it.” His eyes met Hermione’s. “I would never want to hurt her, not like this, not ever. Please Hermione,”

“And why should we listen to you?” Harry demanded. “You lie all the time. This could just be another Slytherin ploy.”

“Because I might have lost the one girl I ever loved and who ever loved me. Please,”

Draco’s wand slipped through his fingers and hit the ground with a deafening clatter as he rose his hands in surrender.

“Please, Harry, I love her,”

The three lowered their wands, in utter shock.

“Herm-own-ninny,”

Tension broke as everyone turned to face Krum.

“He’z telling ze truth. Zomeone ‘laced an Imperius Curse on ‘im. I waz ‘side him when it ‘appened, zough I wazn’t quite ‘ure wot did ‘appen, bu’ I am now.” Krum’s accent was laid on thick as he explained quickly.

“Go!” Hermione yelled at Draco, throwing him his wand and glaring down who he assumed was Pansy behind him. Not that he cared. He had to find you.

____________________________________

“Y/n!” The voice was muddled in my mind. “Y/n, I know you’re out here! Please!”

“No,” I murmured. “Not him, not now,” I begged.

“Merlin, Y/n,” The sound of footsteps in the snow halted, but I could still feel him move closer.

“Go aw-way,” I breathed out, my fight gone.

“Y/n, where’s your wand?” His voice was hesitant and cautious.

“M-my r-r-room,” I answered miserable. “L-leave me al-l-lone,”

“Y/n... please,”

His voice was so near. As if he were kneeling next to me. If I opened my eyes and reached out, there wasn’t a doubt that I could touch him.

“You took everything” I whimpered. “I... I have nothing. Your father was right...”

“My father?” He asked.

“He was here tonight...”

“Blood hell!” Draco snapped. “It was him! How dare he!”

A frustrated roar left Draco’s lips and pierced what was left my soul as I curled up smaller. My finger curled into the dirt below me, the coolness of it was almost refreshing. Awareness dawned on me that I felt feverish. My hands splayed out in the dirt, grasping for the chill. Anything to take away the heat.

My mind began to think outside of numbness.

...dirt?

“Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” Draco demanded, but I paid him no mind. My eyes flashed open, looking down at dirt and grass, in the dead of winter.

“He cursed me! I never thought... the gall,” Draco hissed.

“Draco,” My breathing quickened as my anxiety heightened with my breath. “The ground Draco,”

He wasn’t listening, instead, he was ranting on about something that didn’t hold my attention at the moment.

“Draco!” I yelled.

Blue eyes snapped to mine, filled with craze and worry and anger.

“The ground,” I gaped. “What... what did you do?”

Part 13?

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @littlethingsinmymindla @xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @mccloudchloe

98 notes · View notes

revchainsaw · 4 years ago

Text

Coneheads (1993)

Another Entry from 1993. I'm leaning towards the thought that 1993 was a booming year for moviegoers. Unlike my previous review (Demolition Man), Coneheads is a movie that I am not visiting for the first time. I have fugue like toddler memories of the unforgettable silhouettes of these characters but I also have much more vivid memories of seeing reruns of this film on Comedy Central throughout my school years. Of Course, I can not hear Soft Cell's Tainted Love without thinking about this film.

The Message

Coneheads is a Sci-Fi Comedy exploring the American immigrant experience of a family of illegal aliens, but these aliens are of the extraterrestrial variety. All joking aside, that is how the plot presents it's central conflict as the INS is hot on their trail. The Coneheads are a nuclear family of aliens from the planet Remulak. Dan Aykroyd plays the father Beldar, he is employed most comically as a Taxi Driver and also by his home planet as the Time Keeper, whose job it is to inform the invading force of the most opportune time to conquer the earth. Beldar's mate and lifelong companion is Prymaat, played by Jane Curtin. Together they have a daughter, born of Earth, named Connie.

The first act of the film tells of the Coneheads arrival and stranding on Earth and how they are treated as foreigners and second class citizens by the people of Earth. However, they are never assumed to be aliens, just kinda freaky looking. Much of the humor comes from no matter how strange and unappealing they act the Coneheads kindness, hard work, and diligent behavior earns them the admiration and love of their neighbors and coworkers everywhere they go. Eventually Prymaat becomes pregnant and they give birth to Connie.

After a time jump, Connie has entered her teenage years and the generation gap and the culture gap between the Coneheads and their rebellious daughter begins to manifest. The Coneheads are loving parents and Connie a loving daughter and it's just so heartwarming to see such a functional relationship played out as they navigate these difficulties.

Unfortunately, the INS director who had once been on the Coneheads case early in their years finds that the unresolved investigation into these aliens has left a dark mark on his record and could be used to foil his political aspirations. Due to this realization his ambition towards these goals turns his apathy about the case to a dogged pursuit that would put Wile E. Coyote to shame.

Eventually the Coneheads are brought back in touch with the Remulak people and Beldar is forced to choose between his devotion to his culture and his people, and the life he has built for his beloved family as a citizen of Earth. Through some trickery and a decision to spare the Earth, Beldar becomes the anonymous savior of the Earth and the Coneheads are granted U.S. Citizenship.

With our Invader Zim's and Solar Opposites on our plates, does the Coneheads hold up as a satisfactory offering to the Cult of Cult?

Let's get to the Benediction.

Best Gag: 10 fingers, 10 toes, 10 inch cone

The Coneheads is sort of a one trick pony when it comes to humor. No one particular gag sticks out more than any other as most of the comedy tends to be, a Conehead does a weird thing and then people react either shocked or strangely unfazed. However, one seen has both reactions and a ton of that weirdness in rapid fire succession and that would be the birth of Connie Conehead.

Best Effect: Narfle the Garthok

At the climax of the film Beldar is set in colosseum battle against a creature known as the Garthok. The effect is a simple stop motion beast, and it certainly looks corny by todays standards. Even next to an old Ray Harryhausen film the creature looks cartoony. I think that's more than forgivable considering Coneheads is basically a cartoon. I want to take a moment to give props to the makeup department, at no point do i feel like the Coneheads do not look like aliens, they completely sell the very mild alien features that set the Remulaks apart from Earthlings, but these effects are just that, mild. I'm a monster loving boy and I gotta get my monster love out. I love the Garthok, and I may have to admit I've watched Coneheads a few times just to see the Garthok.

Worst Aspect: Just a Dash of Implied Racism

Racism is just an aspect of our culture. There's no pretending that isn't the case, and for that reason for generations racial stereotypes and observations have made it into our films. That is not to say that observations about race being made are automatically racist, however, I think there are some jokes about how the Coneheads are treated in the film, or the things they do that only work if you are familiar enough with racist caricature that the gag makes sense. Unfortunately, these few moments do not go so far as to subvert the gag. For instance, in a film where a black character is implied to be in danger because the police show up, would be an example of a racial issue that is implied because the audience recognizes the implications of how race is a part of American culture, but an implication that the hallways of a building where aliens live in smells funny or that aliens behaving like freaks is accepted implies that the audience thinks that foreigners smell strange or behave in freaky ways, and does not do enough to subvert these stereotypes. Do I think this was intentional or malicious? NO. But it is important to talk about. The filmmakers swim in the same cultural water as I, and the implied biases that you must understand to get some of the jokes are the same biases that are implanted in me. It's just important to note.

Best Aspect: It's All Love Baby

There is a lot of love on display in Coneheads. Beldar and Prymaat are supportive to one another and to their daughter. There is conflict and misunderstandings in the plot, but it shows that a loving family is not measured by a lack of conflict but by how they deal with their issues. Connie is a loving daughter. The friends and neighbors of the Coneheads are also incredibly kind and supportive of the young alien family. Ronnie, played by the ever endearing Chris Farley is so enamored with Connie that he openly accepts all of the weirdness and well intentioned abuse he suffers as a human trying to find an in to a Remulak family with open arms. It's a shame that so much humor in todays film comes from characters being awful to one another. It's refreshing to turn back the clock and enjoy a comedy that runs on such a warm hearted engine.

Most WTF Guy: Dan Aykroyd is a fucking Weirdo

Between Ghostbusters, Nothing But Trouble, and Coneheads I'm coming to realize just how freaking weird Dan Aykroyd is and I love it. This guys mind must be like an Adult Swim bump marathon.

Ambiguous Aspect: An American Tale

The humor of Coneheads is a fish out of water tale, and as such relies heavily on the cultural context of the American Dream and it's relevance for immigrants. In a way Coneheads can be seen as in dialogue with movies like An American Tale, Scarface, and many others. I was born in America, as a military brat, and I have lived in other countries but always on American military bases and where my status as an American was more of a benefit than a hindrance in my day to day interactions with citizens of whatever country I was living in. I have no personal context for these struggles or how the humor of Coneheads is in anyway relevant.

From where I'm sitting I really enjoy how the themes of the film explore the exploitation of immigrants. How Beldar has a genius level IQ and an absurd work ethic yet he is payed in peanuts and happily overproduces for his bosses. I appreciate the exploration of the cultural gap between immigrant parents and their bicultural children. I'd like to think, because I quite enjoy Coneheads, that this movie is sensitive and is presenting these issues in a sympathetic light instead of just using prejudices of "wacky foreigners" as fodder for cheap jokes, but I'm not really sure I'm the position to determine that.

At the very least it's something to chew on. If any of you in the congregation have read any articles pertaining to the subject of how the immigrant experience was portrayed in Coneheads please shoot me a link. I'm sure it would be illuminating to read. Perhaps I am over thinking things and maybe the film makers did not wish to have the movie picked apart, however, immigration is currently and has always been a sensitive and complex category of interrelated issues in our country and if Dan Aykroyd and the other writers did not want to dig into the subject maybe they should have steered clear of the topic in the script.

Summary

Coneheads will not likely be the funniest film you'll ever see. It's certainly a product of it's time and I'm not sure that even then it was for everyone. This is a heartfelt family story but it is also what happens when an SNL skit by a very strange and very high Dan Aykroyd is successful enough to receive a Hollywood budget and a feature length claim to your time. It's by no means amazing, but it is easy viewing. Good luck getting Soft Cell out of your head this week.

Overall Grade: C

#C #Grade: C #Grade C #Comedy #Science Fiction #Scifi #coneheads #alien #Aykroyd #Dan Aykroyd #aliens #SNL #Saturday Night Live #(C)

3 notes · View notes

choicest · 4 years ago

Text

The Hollow Side of the World

Author's Note: This fic is the continuation of my fic The Hardest Goodbye inspired by Pixelberry's The Freshman Series. This contains both MC's and Chris’ point of view after the break-up. Thank you for being here!

@whendolphinscry @malvolari-take-my-soul @the-soot-sprite

Pairing: Chris x MC

Chris

Chris feels some licking in his face, he slowly opens his eyes and see Rookie trying to wake him up. He laughs at the sight, what a cute puppy he is. "And good morning to you too, buddy." Chris rolls over and check the time in his phone, 10:49. It's late and he's not surprised that he slept in despite being a morning person. After yesterday, he's sure that it's either he won't be able to sleep fully or he'll sleep that long to numb the pain. Good thing he only got one afternoon class today so he's not running late.

The quarterback checks his phone once again. Refreshing it for the third time now, he hopes he'll see her name. Convincing himself that if he's not lucky enough to get a message from her, maybe there will be a notification on his social media from her. Anything that will help him feel closer to her again.

Accepting the hard truth that there's none, he contemplates if he should make the first move. He clicks her name and types "Good morning, babe." then immediately erases it. "Really, Chris? After what you said to her you have the audacity to call her that?" He scolded himself. "I'm really sorry. Please come home." he tries again and shows the screen to Rookie asking for approval. Rookie just lazily drops his head. "Yeah, you're right. That sounds dumb." He deletes the message, closes his phone and rub his hair out of frustration. "Come on, let's just eat breakfast. Chris smiles dejectedly and he lifts Rookie in his arms.

MC goes downstairs and see her mom preparing waffles. "Good morning, mom." she says as she takes a sip of her coffee. "Good morning, bean!" Her dad, Stephen enters the kitchen energetic. MC notice that he's wearing a pajama. That's a good thing, she thought. That means that he spent the night here. She goes and hug him whispering thank you and smiling to her mom through the hug. She knows that her parents are also going through a rough patch and them putting aside their differences to be with her means a lot to her.

"Come on, MC. Eat faster so I can drop you at school before work." Stephen says. "Dad, really it's okay. I left the car at campus yesterday in a hurry so I'll just take the train today. I don't need you using your company's car, driving that long just to make me feel better." MC smiles warmly at her father.

"MC, you sure you're okay, honey?" her mom asks, knowing her daughter really well. "I'll be fine, mom. Thanks for the offer, dad but I got this." MC hugs both of them for the last time then head to the train station.

Wanting to avoid any interaction with Chris, MC walks straight to the library to work on her thesis. As much as she misses him, she's not ready yet. There she saw Abbie, reading a book. She tries to blend in with the other library goers, not quite ready to tell her friend what happened. MC is about to give herself a pat on the back for an accomplished mission when she hears Abbie soft whispers to her. Closing her eyes briefly, MC plaster a smile and goes over her curly friend's table. "Hey, Abbie."

"Hey, yourself." Abbie gives her a meaningful look. Confuse, MC looks expectantly at her. "Oh, come on, MC don't worry about it. Tyler and I ditch you guys sometimes for the same reason." she teases MC. "Abbie, I don't follow. What's up?"

"Oh, wow. You didn't know? Well, Sebastian invited the gang last night to celebrate your play with James since we didn't really have the chance that night. We shoot you and Chris a message but since you guys were not answering we thought that you guys might have your own thing, you know?" Abbie wiggles her eyebrows. MC frowns. Now it's even harder to tell the truth. "But don't worry, we'll have plenty of time to celebrate. Though we missed the girl we were celebrating." Abbie adds.

After a few minutes of not answering, Abbie drops her book and looks at MC. "Hey, is everything okay?" MC looks at Abbie and tears comes falling. MC can't imagine where are the tears coming from. She thought she cried hard enough the last night. After Abbie gives her a hug, taking her time she tells her what happened and why both of them were unresponsive. MC didn't know what to do and neither was Abbie. For a while they just hug each other while Abbie whispers "Everything's going to be fine, MC."

Chris

Usually after his class, Chris would meet MC at the coffee shop and they would share some muffin they both love but today, Chris skips the coffee shop. He walks directly to the cafeteria to grab a quick bite before training. He wanted to give MC the space she needs in case she's there.

When Chris reach the football field, he feels more determined to do his very best even if it's just a normal training day. He puts himself in so much pressure thinking that him being inconsiderate of her feelings is one of the reasons why she left. "Might as well give my best so my girl giving me the chance to reach my dreams wouldn't go to waste huh." he said to himself. Chris tries his best to calm his nerves but failed miserably. He can't do this. Not without her.

“So, what now, MC?” Abbie ask MC as they walk through the quad. “I need to go to London, Abbie. Whatever happens, it will be a great opportunity for me. Can I be honest?” MC stops walking then looks at her. Abbie nods, offering a sincere smile. “Aside from I need to go, I also really want to.” MC look down at her feet for a few seconds before speaking again. “I was so afraid, Abbie. I still am. Kaitlyn won the Battle of the Bands and gain a lot of attention, Zack have professor Vasquez’s old house to work on, you and Tyler are doing an amazing job on that game project, James got an offer from a publishing house, Zig is being so hardworking balancing his academics and the dance, Becca has Law School and Chris… Chris has his community organization. He has One Hundred Degrees. And now he has Nightingales back.” MC pause for a while, waiting for Abbie to get mad. What she just said sounds so bitter to her ears but Abbie just put a hand on her back. “I’m afraid, Abbie.” With tears in eyes, she finally admits the truth. “I know you guys often say I accomplished a lot at my age but look at me!” MC gestures to herself to emphasize her point. “I’m the only one in the group who don’t know what to do and where to go after graduation. And n-now… now that I finally have something to look forward to, something I actually want to do, all of this happened.” MC sobs softly and wipes her face with the sleeves of her blouse.

“I love Chris, Abbie. I do but I need to do this.” MC gives Abbie a glance hoping to find understanding in her eyes and she did not disappoint. “I know, MC. I know. But you know what else I do know? I know that Chris also loves you so much. We all know it, MC. And trust me, it may look like he didn’t care but he does.”

MC spends the rest of the day settling everything she needs before she goes to London. She makes an appointment with her professors to discuss things and let them know that even if she is going to be away for a while, she wouldn’t get left behind. After a long day, there’s only one thing left to do. Go back to their apartment and get all the necessary things. MC softly curse under her breath realizing she only brought some clothes when she left. So now, she has to go back to get her IDs, passport and some notes. If she’s ready to face him again, she didn’t know.

Chris

After a tiring training, Chris calls it a day and go home. Walking towards their apartment, Chris fishes the keys in his jean pocket but stops abruptly when he sees someone waiting by the door. The figure was sitting on the floor, head down and hugging the knees. It’s MC. Chris hurriedly walks towards her. He crouches down to her level and contemplates what to do, in a perfect world where they are still together, he would open the door first then lift her in his arms and they would come in together. Seeing her in the same position is not foreign to Chris. MC forgot her keys multiple times before and when he sees her like this, that’s what he always does.

Chris misses her. He longs for her and while he would like to admire her for some time, he also notices that she’s quivering, he gently touches her elbow and MC slowly lifts her head.

MC is delighted with the sight of him. It’s only been a day but she miss how he’s the first thing she’ll see when she wakes up. She wants to hug him but the ache in her heart is stronger than that feeling now. “Hey, I’m sorry. I-I…”

Chris

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s your home too.” Chris says trying to calm her. For now, all he wants is for her to feel safe around him again. “I need to get something important. I left my keys yesterday.” she admits sheepishly. He gives her a small smile then say “I know.” He opens the door then the two of them walk inside. Chris walks ahead dropping his keys on the counter.

MC smiles when she sees Rookie running towards them. The puppy runs past Chris then jump on her. She rubs his fur laughing. “I miss you too, Rookie! Were you a good boy? Yes, you’re my good boy!” even with her eyes down on Rookie, MC can feel Chris eyes are on her.

Chris

“God, I miss her so much.” Chris whispers to himself. He thought of crossing the room, settling to her side then giving her a kiss but he would be an asshole if he does that so he remains watching them. Seeing her now, back in their living room and playing with Rookie gives him joy. He couldn’t even remember how he convinced himself to skip the coffee shop and missed a chance to feel her presence. But Chris is looking up. She’s here with him after all. Now, he has the opportunity to right his wrongs.

#the freshman #the freshmen series #the senior #Chris Powell #Christopher Powell #chris fanfiction #chris powell fanfic #chris x mc #choices #playchoices #pixelberry #the hardest goodbye #the hollow Side of the world

18 notes · View notes

tallglassofsweetpea · 5 years ago

Text

Little Darlin’: Chapter Nine

Sweet Pea x OC, 1950′s AU

Warnings (this chapter): language, sexual content/smut

AN: SHE’S FINALLY HERE!!! As always thank you all for being so patient and supportive. I know its been quite some time since I’ve updated this fic, but i’m finally satisfied with this chapter. Juggling classes with writing and also trying to take care of myself in the process is not at all easy. I really can’t thank you enough for sticking it out with me.

All previous chapters can be found in my masterlist on my blog in case you want a refresher of where we left off!

I’ll also be uploading to AO3!

Enjoy!!!

(Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future chapters. Also feel free to message me if you have any general comments/questions/feedback!

I am always taking requests!!! (even though i have like a million i still need to finish writing oops)

Chapter Nine: Prisoner of Love

She hadn’t known exactly what to expect, or how she would feel after. She’d heard the girls in the locker room before gym class share their horror stories of their first times. Some said it was painful, some claimed they regretted doing it in the first place. And though her body felt a bit sore when she woke up the next morning, Lily felt far from regretful.

The moment her eyes fluttered open, they were greeted by warm sunlight beaming through the blinds of the bedroom window. Her limbs, still sore from the night before, were twisted and tangled in the sheets. She could feel the ghost of Sweet Pea’s hands traveling over her body. He had tried his best to keep his touch light and gentle, being mindful of it being her first. But as his senses heightened, his self control became lost in the passion. Golden hair spilled over her shoulder in a curtain of golden curls as she turned to face the door, holding the crumpled sheets against her chest. She discovered an underwear clad Sweet Pea stood leaning against the frame, his eyes ran over her body.

“Morning.”

She smiled at the sight of him, his hair disheveled. “Good morning”

He made his way over to the bed, settling himself beneath the mess of sheets and lightly running his hands over her bare shoulder poking out from the top sheet. He delicately kissed her lips, which were still slightly swollen.

“Sorry if I was a little rough with you last night.”

“I didn’t mind.”

Sweet Pea nodded his head with a cocky smirk. “Yeah, I could tell.”

Pink crept up her neck and her cheeks, she playfully swatted at him.

“Stop it.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead, his features settled into a more serious expression.

“I meant what I said last night.”

She nodded her head, remembering the way her heart swelled the first time he said it.

“I know. I love you too.” She kissed him sweetly on the lips before pulling herself up and throwing a leg over his waist.

Sweet Pea pulled away from the kiss a moment later than he should have, but kept his hands rested on her hips. “As much as I’d love to roll around with you in bed all day, I need to get in the shower. FP needs some help at the shop today.”

“Maybe I could join you…in the shower.”

He smirked at her, running a hand up and down the side of her thigh. “What have I done to you?”

She flashed him a coy smile, a soft laugh escaping her lips. He intently studied her every move. She reached between them, reaching into his underwear and wrapping her fingers around him. She began stroking his length slowly causing his eyes roll back with a groan.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, doll.”

“I’m sure FP won’t mind if you’re a little late…” She said with a mischievous grin, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and locked eyes with him. She continued to stroke him, his eyes fluttered closed and he sucked in a sharp breath. Lily lifted herself over him and slowly sank down until he filled her completely. The sensations from the previous night came rushing back. Her head fell back as she stilled for a moment to adjust to his size.

He gently guided her over him, rocking her steadily back and forth with his hands rested on her hips. He wrapped an arm around her waist and thrusted into her. Her moans became louder and her fingernails bit into his chest.

“Sweet Pea” Lily’s back arched as she felt her muscles tense.

“Keep going, angel.”

She whimpered, and ground herself down against him. Tingles travelled up and down her spine as Sweet Pea’s hands gently slid up the side of her body and cupped her breasts. The rough skin of his hands creating friction against her sensitive skin.

Her mouth fell open as she felt her body let go all at once, she her hips stuttering until he met his own release shortly after, her name rolling off of his lips.

Lily shrugged on her cardigan as she made her way over to the front door.

Sweet Pea leaned against the counter, shoveling cake down his throat with a fork.

“I think I could marry you, just based on this cake alone.”

She giggled at him and opened her mouth so he could feed her a forkful. She nodded her head, assessing the flavors. “I can’t say I’d blame you, this is some of my best work.” She stood on her tip toes to kiss him.

“I should get home to do damage control with my parents. I’m sure I’ll be walking right into the next world war.”

“Would you say it was worth it?” He inquired with a cocky smirk.

“I would say so…I had a lovely night.”

He kissed her on the top of her head, smiling into her hair. “Likewise.”

A sweet smile spread across her lips. “I love you.” It still felt sort of funny to say it out loud.

“I love you too.” He kissed her goodbye and watched her make her way down the driveway.

“Where on earth have you been?!”

“I-I…” Lily clambered for an answer to give her frantic mother. She looked like hell, something entirely out of character for the ever so elegant Mrs. Green.

“I’ve been scrambling around all over town, calling every number I could remember off of the top of my head.” Mrs. Greene sighed, relieved that her daughter was safe. She held her daughter at arm’s length.

“Thank heavens you’re alright.” Lily watched her mother hurriedly make her way to the kitchen counter, grabbing her handbag and the keys to the car.

“Come on now, we must go. I’ll explain in the car.”

Mrs. Greene led a confused Lily right back out the door she entered just moments before. Lily wordlessly sat in the passenger seat and put on her safety belt.

Once they were on the road, Mrs. Greene used her hand that wasn’t guiding the steering wheel and reached into her purse, pulling out a single cigarette and a lighter.

Lily’s eyes widened as she looked at her mom in shock.

“…Mom?”

Mrs. Greene took a long drag from the cigarette, her eyes not leaving the road.

“Please don’t look at me like that, Lilian. You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with since you decided to run off last night.”

Lily rolled her eyes and looked out the window. “Where are we going?”

“The police station to see your father. He’s been there since late last night.”

Lily’s head whipped back to her mother, her brows knitted together. “The police station? What is daddy doing at the police station? Is he okay?”

“Your father is safe, yes. Last night, we got a call from the Sheriff. He informed you father that our church had been burned down and vandalized. It’s a wonder he didn’t have a heart attack right then and there.” She shook her head and brought her cigarette back to her lips.

“What? Why on earth would someone burn down our church?”

“It was those Serpents again.”

Lily shook her head in disbelief. “No, no. They wouldn’t do that, it has to have been someone else.”

Her mother shot her a scrutinizing look. “Is that so? Then how do you explain why their gang symbol that was found spray painted on the property then?”

Lily’s face went cold. “I-I don’t know but it has to be some mix up or something. He-They would never do something so cruel.”

Her mother gave her the side eye.

“I mean…what business do they have destroying our church? It doesn’t add up.”

“Those people don’t have any respect for anyone or anything, never mind God. What makes you think they would need a reason? They are selfish people.”

“They are not. They’re people just like us, they-“

“Lilian, please! I’m not doing this with you again. Don’t you think I have enough to deal with? I don’t have the time nor the energy to sit here and squabble with you.”

“But mom it’s such bullshit-“

“ENOUGH, LILIAN.” Her daughter sighed and sagged in her seat. All she wanted to do was to get in touch with Sweet Pea as soon as she could to find out what was going on.

They pulled into the parking lot of the Police station. Mrs. Greene patted down her hair and spritzed some perfume she kept in the glove compartment to mask the smoky smell.

“We’re here. Don’t you think for a second that you’re going to use that trash mouth you’ve developed in front of your father. You’re to sit quietly and mind your business. Understood?” She looked at her daughter pointedly. Lily always noticed the way her mother’s eyes turned especially green when she was angry. And right then, they were a deep evergreen.

She compliantly nodded her head and got out of the car to follow her mother through the front door of the station.

Sweet Pea showered, and threw on a pair of jeans and a beat up t-shirt to wear to the garage. He grinned when he noticed a satin ribbon resting on the floor, picking it up and placing it on his dresser on his way to the bathroom. Amidst fixing his hair in the mirror he heard a heavy knock on the door. His eyes shot up to his reflection in the mirror. Who the hell could that be? He left the bathroom and walked to answer the door, quickly throwing on his jacket and instinctively reaching for his pocketknife but felt nothing. He made a mental note to himself to get it back from Lily. He figured it couldn’t be anything serious at that time of day anyway.

But when he opened the door his face dropped. “Shit.”

“Good morning, Sweet Pea.” Sheriff Keller stood in the doorway.

“Sheriff Keller, to what do I owe the pleasure this time around?” He gave the officer a curt smile.

“Well, son. I’m gonna have to take you downtown.”

“What for?”

“Last night two young men vandalized and set the church on the northside on fire.”

Sweet Pea let out a sigh full of exasperation. “Look, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about but I’ve got someplace to be.” Sweet Pea went to brush past the officer. But in a matter of seconds Sheriff Keller had him restrained against the door.

“There was an emblem left spray painted at the scene of the crime…same emblem as the one found right here on your jacket.” He jabbed his index finger into his back. Sweet Pea let his head fall against his front door. He couldn’t believe how ridiculous the accusation was, the Serpents had no motive for vandalizing a church regardless of whether it sat on the Northside or Southside of town.

“Well, it wasn’t me.”

“A couple of local boys called the station, said they saw someone that fits your exact description along with another young man believed to be a Mr. Fangs Fogarty hanging around the church suspiciously late last night.”

Sweet Pea shook his head. A couple of local boys. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Keller.”

“Afraid not, now let’s go.” Sheriff Keller grabbed the tall Serpent by his arm and led him down the wooden steps and into the back of his police vehicle.

Lily sat in the lobby of the station next to her parents. Her father looked drained, his lack of sleep made visible from the heavy bags settled under his eyes.

Archie Andrews and Reggie Mantle walked out of the Sheriff’s office and went over to address Mr. Greene, who stood to shake the young men’s hands.

“Pastor Greene, I’m so sorry about what happened to your church, Pastor Greene. I only wish Reggie and I had gotten there sooner so we could have stopped them. I hope that the miscreants that are responsible for this tragedy are held accountable.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Archibald. And thank you both for stepping up to report to the police. It instills great faith in me knowing that there are two upstanding young men like yourselves in our community.”

Mr. Greene patted Reggie on the back before waving the boys off, they gave his wife a farewell kiss on the cheek on their way out. When they said goodbye to Lily, Reggie leaned in closer than she cared for. She felt his breath warm her ear as he whispered to her.

“Looks like you’re not gonna see your little boy toy anytime soon.”

She leaned away from him, her brows knitted together as he kissed her on the cheek and straightened his stance. What was he talking about? Sweet Pea had been with her the entire night before. But the smug grin nestled on Reggie’s face as he walked out of the station left her with an unsettling feeling.

The door swung open moments later. Lily was pulled from her thoughts just moments later by the sound of metal clanking and heavy work boots trudge against the linoleum floor. Her eyes followed the noise and her gaze was met with a set of, her heart sunk into her stomach.

She barely lifted herself from her chair when she felt her mothers cool fingers clasp down on her arm securing her to her seat. His eyes scanned the room, catching sight of Lily and paused before tearing his gaze away to look straight forward. He swallowed hard. She wanted nothing more than to run to him the moment she sank into those familiar deep auburn eyes. Sheriff Keller trailed behind him, leading him further into the room.

Mrs. Green shot up from her seat and assessed the young man in front of her. “Is this him? Where is the other one?”

“We’re still looking for Fogarty, but I managed to find his other half.” Keller nodded his head to the young man in handcuffs in front of him. “I need to bring him in for questioning.”

He motioned for one of the other officers to take him.

“Let’s go.” Sweet Pea kept his eyes on Lily as he was escorted further into the station, his expression blank.

“Pastor, I think it might be good for you and your family to go home for some rest while we search for the other suspect. You’ve been here since late last night. We’ll be in touch once we’ve got them both.”

Mr. Greene nodded his head in agreement. “Thank you for all you’ve done for us, Sheriff. I trust you’ll find him promptly. I’d like to have this over and done with as quickly as possible. God willing.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

Mrs. Greene threw together a quick lunch for her husband, who was napping in his favorite chair. Her daughter tip toed down the hallway to use the phone in their bedroom. She carefully closed the door behind her, so as not to make a sound. Her fingers quickly spun the the rotary dial to call the police station.

“Riverdale Police Station.”

Lily faked her best male impression. “Hi, I’d like to speak with, uh, Sweet Pea.”

“This is his lawyer.” She added, lamely shaking her head.

“You will be charged for this call.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, she had no idea how she would explain the extra fee on the phone bill.

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“One moment.”

Lily’s heart raced as she was put on hold. Her eyes watched the space between the bedroom door and the carpet, searching for any signs of movement.

“Yeah?”

“Hello.”

“Who the hell is this? Tall Boy?”

“What? Oh! Sorry, I was using a fake voice. It’s me.”

“Lily?”

“Yes, it’s me. Are you okay?”

“Ya know, honey. I’ve never been better.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I can’t talk for long, but I think I know who really did this. When I got to the station today, Reggie-”

“Reggie and Archie? I figured as much.”

“Well why haven’t you told that to the Sheriff? Surely, they would let you go if you explain-“

“My word against theirs?” Sweet Pea snorted. “In my personal experience, that doesn’t hold much weight with the Riverdale Police Department.”

She sighed in frustration. She knew there had to be something she could do to prove him innocent.

“What if I told them that I was with you? Then they would have to let you go!”

The other end of the phone went silent.

“I’m not gonna ask you to do that. I want you to stay out of this.”

“Stay out of it? If it’s going to get you out, then why should I stay out of it?”

“What about your parents? Hm? Sheriff Keller? Everyone at Riverdale High? Hell, everyone in Riverdale? You’re fine with them all knowing?”

She fiddled with the phone cord in silence. She knew that the moment she stood up for him would be the moment that everything changed. Nobody would look at her the same. Was she really ready for them to know?

“That’s what I thought.”

“Lilian!” She cringed at the sound of her mother’s voice echoing throughout the house.

Lily sighed. “I’m going to get you out, I promise.”

Sweet Pea smiled weakly into the phone. “I love you, doll.”

“I love you too, I’ll see you soon.” She hung up the phone.

Just after the Greene’s finished eating dinner, Sheriff Keller called the house from the station. They had both Fangs and Sweet Pea in for questioning.

“Neither of them will confess to the crime.”

“For heavens sake, I’ll go in there myself and get a confession out of them!”

“Mrs. Greene, I don’t know that-“

“He needs to face the reality of what they have done. Let us speak with them.” She tilted her chin up at the man, indignantly. Lily’s eyes widened in horror. One of the worst things she could possibly imagine would be her mother in an interrogation room with Sweet Pea.

Yet that was the exact scenario she landed in moments later. It wasn’t exactly an ideal setting for her boyfriend and her parents to meet. Mr. Greene sat sternly in silence beside his wife and their daughter, listening to Sheriff Keller rattle off questions to the young serpent that sat across the table in handcuffs. With every answer Sweet Pea gave, Mrs. Greene would shake her head in disbelief of his claims. Sweet Pea kept his cool through the second round of questioning, but had grown exhausted from repeating himself again and again. He was almost at the point where he considered confessing so that he wouldn’t have to sit there and listen to them anymore.

Sweet Pea sighed. “It wasn’t me, Sheriff. I’ve told you before, I was at home.”

Lily kept her eyes on her lap, anxiously fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

“He’s lying, Sheriff. They all lie.”

Lily tried to keep her eyes from shooting daggers at her mother.

“With all due respect, I had nothing to do with this.”

Mrs. Greene stared icily across the table. “You’ve got the devil in you.”

Lily chewed on her lip, not daring to interject.

“Dear, calm yourself.”

She gave her husband a pointed look. “I will not calm myself! I refuse to listen to his lies. How can anyone believe him with that snake etched into his flesh. He’s nothing but trash. Lying trash like the rest of them!” Lily winced at her mother’s cruel words, doing her best to combat the urge to defend him. Sweet Pea however appeared to be unfazed. He had heard it all before.

Sheriff Keller interrupted before the conversation became any further out of hand. “Son, this will be a lot easier if you just confess. You’ve put these people through enough, don’t you think?”

“I’m not confessing to this bullshit. Sorry, Sheriff but I’m not landing my ass in the cooler for nothing.”

The sheriff groaned out of frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re sure there’s nobody that can confirm that you were home? Nobody that saw you last night?”

His eyes flickered to with Lily briefly, she twirled her cross between her fingers as she waited for him to answer. A part of her hoping he would just tell them the truth.

He shook his head.

“No.”

“You do understand that without an alibi, we have enough against you for them to press charges?”

“And we will absolutely press charges.” Mr. Greene confirmed.

He shrugged. “I don’t have anything else to tell you.”

“Tell them the truth.”

The room fell completely silent, you could hear a pin drop to the floor. Everyone turned to face the young girl who up until that moment, had remained silent. Sweet Pea’s eyes met with Lily’s across the table. He mentally cursed to himself.

He scoffed, playing it off cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, doll.”

“Don’t you dare address my daughter-“

“Sweet Pea.” She pleaded, cutting her father off. Her green orbs stared into his, she nodded her head to egg him on. But Sweet Pea sat there silently but his mind was racing, entirely unsure of what he should do.

Although she knew he didn’t want her to get involved, she couldn’t sit there and let him take the blame for this. She knew what she was putting at risk, she swallowed hard before turning to the sheriff.

“I-I know it wasn’t Sweet Pea and Fangs.”

“Lily-pad, how do you know that?” Lily turned to face her father, his brow furrowed at his daughter’s bold accusation.

“I…can’t tell you that, daddy. But I just know it wasn’t them.”

Her mother’s eyes darted between her daughter and the Serpent that sat before her. Lily chewed on her bottom lip nervously, Sweet Pea watching her every move.

“Sheriff, you’ve got to believe me.”

“Uh, well…” Sheriff Keller looked around the room, entirely puzzled. “Without any evidence proving otherwise or an alibi to support that claim then I’m gonna have to keep him here until we can get them in front of a judge, should your parents choose to press charges.”

She shook her head. “No…don’t-” Lily squeezed her eyes shut, she knew what she had to do. “I know that it wasn’t Sweet Pea because…he was at his trailer all night last night.”

Everyone’s eyes were glued to her as she continued.

“I know he was there…because…” She could feel her heart rapping hard against her chest.

The sheriff quirked a brow at her, awaiting her response. “…Because?”

Her hands, now covered in sweat wrung in her lap as she took a deep breath. She locked eyes with Sweet Pea and spoke.

“I was with him.”

AN: I know this is not at all how the law enforcement system works, so don’t drag me y’all

Taglist: @minddinosaur @madaboutlili @chipster-21 @the-fifth-marauder-paws @ddeo-na-ji-ma @periiscope @mari-cross @gswritings @ajillathehun-blog @charles11700 @jennyhetzel @fandom-princess-forevermore @salutetomeimurserpentqueen @serpentsweetspea @ritis1996 @minddinosaur @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @wxntersoldxer16 @princesweetpea @hoeforshows @omgitstreeloo @we–are–infinite–2 @myfavfanfix @kellbell44 @southsidemistress

#Little Darlin’#sweet pea #sweet pea x oc #sweat pea imagine #sweet pea smut #sweet pea x you #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale au #1950s au #Chapter Nine #sweet pea au #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea fic #sweet pea imagine

69 notes · View notes

saxonspud · 5 years ago

Text

Kidnapped - Chapter 5

Josiah Trelawny, stopped outside the saloon. He removed his hat.

This wasn't his preferred watering hole in St. Denis. He much preferred the higher class establishment in the centre of town, but his would do. It was a better place to discuss the sort of business he would be discussing today.

He walked through the doors, and waved a greeting to the barkeep, before heading to the back room.

“Ahh Josiah, good to see you,” Dutch greeted, as he poured him a drink.

Josiah placed his hat on the table, and sat down, taking a sip of the alcohol. He nodded. At least the refreshments were better than the locale.

“So, how did your foray go, into the world of fathers and daughters,” Josiah smirked.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “the man’s a real piece of work, his daughter on the other hand.”

Josiah chuckled, “she’s a sweet little thing, he hardly lets her out of the house you know.”

Dutch hummed, and reached down into a bag that was under the table.

“Tell me Josiah, where would a man like Jonah McKenzie obtain garments like this?”

He pulled out the dress that you had been wearing, when you took your little trip into the woods.

Josiah raised his eyebrows, “Not from St. Denis, or Paris. That looks more Italian. Milan? Maybe.”

Dutch nodded, “its what our dear Mr. McKenzie has been dressing his daughter in!”

Josiah chuckled, “only the best, and skimpiest outfits when your trying to marry your daughter off to a rich oil magnate.”

Dutch hummed, and narrowed his eyes, “maybe. What sort of money does a wardrobe like this cost?”

Josiah, took another sip of his drink, and scratched his head. “A whole wardrobe, eh?”

Dutch nodded, “even down to her undergarments and night clothes. All of the finest silk, or gossamer lace!”

Josiah frowned, “too much for a man like McKenzie, maybe I should dig a bit deeper!”

Dutch rolled his eyes, “well you haven't got long. Have you contacted him about where to leave our money?”

Josiah chuckled, “not yet, but the plan is rather cunning. I’ll need the assistance of one of your ladies, Mary-Beth perhaps.”

Dutch narrowed his eyes, “she wont be in any danger?”

Josiah shook his head, “no, not at all, but she will need to dress very smartly! Why don’t we discuss the details back at your country house,” he smirked, “then you can introduce me to the lovely Miss Emmeline!”

“We can discuss it here, Josiah. Now’s not a very good time for her to be seeing strangers.” Dutch advised.

“Nonsense Dutch, all the effort and leads I’ve given you. The least you can do is let me see her!”

Dutch sighed, “very well. Lets head back now, I need to get back anyway.”

The two men stood up and left the bar, heading back to Shady Belle.

Josiah and Dutch hitched their horses and headed towards the main house. Arthur was sitting on the steps. He glanced up and waved to Josiah.

“How’s she been, son,” Dutch asked.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “she was yelling earlier, but I thought it best to leave her alone. She’s probably a bit pissed.”

Dutch nodded, “why don’t you take Josiah up, I’ll be up in a little while. Hopefully she’s calmed down a bit by now.”

Arthur headed into the house with Josiah, whilst Dutch headed over to talk to Hosea.

Josiah frowned as they headed up the stairs. “is she still annoyed about the kidnap.”

Arthur hummed, “not exactly, there was a bit of an incident, she tried to do a runner, so she’s been shackled to the bed.”

“Arthur!” Josiah exclaimed, “that was never part of the plan!”

Arthur shrugged, “plans change, you know that. We never planned to run into trouble in Blackwater!”

Arthur lead Josiah into the upstairs living room, then entered the bedroom.

As soon as he opened the door, he stopped dead.

“Oh fuck!” he exclaimed.

The bed was covered in blood. Blood was dripping from your foot, where the metal had bitten into the flesh.

Arthur ran out of the bedroom, and threw open the doors of the balcony, he yelled down.

“Dutch! Hosea! You better get up here! Bring bandages, and hot water!”

Josiah, stood in the doorway, staring at you.

Arthur shook him, “Josiah, just get out the way, we need to sort this out.”

“Wait Arthur, where’s that camera of yours, take a picture!”

Now it was Arthurs turn to stare, “what!” he exclaimed.

“We can use it for leverage, if her father gets difficult.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, and reached into his satchel. Grabbing the camera, he took a picture of you covered in blood, and shackled to the bed.

“You’re sick sometimes, you know that Josiah,” Arthur hissed.

“Means and ends, Arthur. Means and ends!”

Dutch ran into the room, his face paled, when he saw the blood.

“Emmeline!”

He ran into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, “Emmeline, sweetheart, talk to me!”

Dutch glared at Arthur, “where’s the fucking key Arthur, get that thing off of her!” he yelled.

Arthur ran over to the desk in the sitting room, and fumbled around in one of the drawers, finally finding the key. He rushed back, and unlocked the cuff, removing it from your ankle.

Hosea had followed him in, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe you two sometimes,” his hissed.

“Please Hosea, just try and fix it,” Dutch pleaded.

Dutch stroked your face, “Emmeline, come on sweetheart.”

Your eyelids fluttered open, you looked at Dutch, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Why do you hate me? Why doesn’t my daddy love me?” you whimpered.

Dutch cupped your face in his hands, “look at me Emmeline, I don’t hate you, I’m sorry sweetheart, we’re gonna fix this!”

He kissed your forehead.

A tear trickled down your face, “I’m sorry, it wouldn’t come off, I tried, but it wouldn’t come off.”

“Oh Emmie, sweetheart. It wasn't supposed to.”

Dutch wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into his chest.

“Arthur!” he whispered, “get me a glass of brandy, quickly son!”

Arthur nodded, and headed out into the sitting room. He opened the cabinet, and found Dutch’s stash of Fine brandy, and a glass. He poured a measure, and rushed back into the bedroom.

Arthur handed the glass to Dutch.

“Emmie, Sweetheart, drink this,” Dutch this.

You lifted your head, and Dutch put the glass to your lips.

As you swallowed the alcohol you coughed.

“I...i don’t like it,” you moaned.

Dutch stroked your cheek, “it’ll help, Emmie, just a little bit more.”

You took another sip, and grimaced.

“Good girl,” Dutch, stroked your cheek, and kissed your temple.

“Why did you call me Emmie?” you asked, frowning.

Dutch smiled, “Don’t you like it?”

You rested your head on his chest, “I do like it,” you mumbled.

“Then my little Emmie, that's what I’ll call you,” Dutch purred.

Hosea looked up at Dutch and nodded. Dutch looked at your ankle and it was all bandaged.

“am...am I in trouble,” you whimpered.

“Maybe,” he soothed, “just a little.”

“P...please don’t punish me,” you sobbed, “I’m s...sorry.”

Dutch stroked circles on your back.

“Hush now, Emmie, I think you’ve punished yourself enough already.”

Hosea undid the chain, from the bed. “I’ll get rid of this, do you need anything else?”

Dutch nodded, “I’ll bring her down in a bit, can you ask Susan, to get one of the girls to clean up the blood, and get some fresh bedding.”

Hosea nodded, and left the bedroom.

Dutch looked across at Josiah.

“I’ll talk with you Josiah, in a little while. In the meantime fill Arthur in.”

Josiah nodded, and left with Arthur. They closed the door behind them.

“Now Emmie, we need to get that nightgown off,” Dutch advised.

You shook your head, and brought you arms up to your chest.

“I can’t...can’t be naked!” you exclaimed.

Dutch frowned, “Emmeline, what do good girls do?”

“behave,” you mumbled.

“And what else?” Dutch asked sternly.

“Do as their told?” you proffered.

“Exactly, now what happens if you don't do as your told?” he warned.

Your breath hitched in your throat, “wait...please, I’ll do it.”

Dutch smiled, “good girl, lift up your arms.”

You tentatively raise your arms, as Dutch pulled the hem of the nightdress over your head, and threw it on the floor.

Dutch gently trailed his fingers down your bare back.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, “so delicate. Such a good girl for me.”

Dutch kissed your shoulder, then your neck, then your collarbone.

You lowered your head as you felt your face heating. You’d never been naked in front of anyone before.

Dutch gently put his fingers under your chin, and tilted your head up.

“Emmie, look at me.” he whispered.

Your blue eyes, gazed into his brown ones.

“Tell me, who’s good girl are you?” he asked.

“Y...yours.” you stuttered.

“who’s gonna look after you,” he continued.

“Y...you are,” you answered.

Dutch smiled, and gently kissed your lips.

Dutch stood up, and grabbed a spare shirt out of his dresser.

He slowly dressed you in his shirt, leaving a few buttons undone at the top. The shirt was large, and just hung off your shoulders, leaving the tops of your shoulders bare, but covering the arms. It was as long as your nightdress, so looked a little like a nightshirt. The material, was soft to the touch. The looseness of the garment, made it more comfortable than your nightdress.

Despite being laundered, his scent still lingered on the material.

“Put your arms around my neck Emmie?” Dutch urged.

As you did, he lifted you up, carrying you bridal style.

“Will you always look after me?” you asked

Dutch smiled, “always, princess.”

“Even after daddy pays you?” you added.

Dutch chuckled, “Even after that.”

You frowned, “won’t he and Mr. Cornwall be angry.”

Dutch laughed, “yes princess, they’ll be furious!”

#rdr2 fanfic #original female character #dutch van der linde #josiah trelawny #arthur morgan #hosea matthews #wattpad #a03

13 notes · View notes

omgrachwrites · 6 years ago

Text

Ocean Avenue (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

Summary: When Darcie Baker - the daughter of a police officer - breaks her misfit friend’s heart at 16 she regrets it everyday even after she graduates though she knows she can’t go back and change what happened. Everything changes when over 10 years later she meets the gorgeous mechanic.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, Bucky being a cutie

Words: 2008

A/N: I am so so sorry for the wait, I haven’t had a great mental health week but I’m better now! I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think, I love you all very much! xxx

Part Nine

Sixteen year old Darcie smiled at the handsome young man as he walked back across the deep sand with two full sodas firmly in his hands. Darcie could smell the sea salt that resided in Bucky’s thick hair as he sat next to her on the almost scorching sand and he slung an arm over her shoulders like it was the most casual action in the world. The motion of Bucky’s arm caused Darcie to blush as she moved closer to him, she felt so safe in his arms.

“One blue raspberry lemonade,” he gave her a dimpled cheeky grin as he slyly took a sip of it before he passed it over to her.

“Thank you Buck,” she giggled before she took a gulp of the refreshing, tangy beverage and she sighed in a contented sort of way as she basked in the warm evening sun. It was especially warm for late October.

“So,” Bucky started as he twirled her silky blonde hair through his nimble fingers, “are you leaving me to watch the sunset alone again or are you staying to watch?” Bucky teased and Darcie rolled her eyes with a smile.

For a couple of weeks now the pair had been coming to the beach and every time they’d meet at the beach Darcie always had to leave early so her father wouldn’t get suspicious of where she was, “I’ll put you out of your misery Buck, my dad thinks that I’ve gone to Sam’s for diner.”

“Great! You can watch the second most beautiful sight in the world,” Bucky grinned, he looked so happy that Darcie was so glad that she was staying with him.

“What’s the first most beautiful sight in the world?” she asked, genuinely interested about what his answer was going to be.

Bucky’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly and he looked at Darcie, pressing a feather light kiss to her cheek, “you,” he whispered to her.

“Bucky,” she muttered gently, feeling her cheeks heat up just the same as Bucky’s as she turned to look at him, his lips now pressed against her forehead.

Bucky marvelled at the beautiful sight of her, she was glancing up at him from beneath her long, thick eyelashes and she cupped his face in her warm hands, bringing his face down to meet hers. It was their first kiss, it was slow, soft and almost a little hesitant, Darcie’s lips were soft and firm, they tasted like the blue raspberry soda that she’d been drinking.

Bucky made a soft noise in the back of his throat, humming in pleasure as Darcie’s hands left his cheeks and carded through his thick hair, tugging at the dark strands. As the kiss deepened Bucky pulled Darcie closer by her waist and she took his hint to slide into his lap, her hands cupping either side of his neck.

The beautiful girl in his arms gasped as Bucky gently bit her bottom lip, tugging it playfully between his teeth. His tongue sneaked into her mouth and he ran the tip of it along the length of Darcie’s tongue, making them shiver in unison, pulling away when the lack of air became too much to bear. When they pulled away from one another they both chuckled and pressed their foreheads together.

Bucky left a light kiss on her forehead, his gentle fingers stroking through her soft hair that had become slightly tangled in the light ocean breeze, “I was going to save that kiss for Homecoming but I just couldn’t wait,” he chuckled.

Darcie beamed at him as she laced her fingers through his, “I’m glad that you didn’t wait,” she smiled, “c’mon!” she said suddenly and she got out of his lap to sit next to him and she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, “let’s watch the sunset before we miss it.”

Darcie kissed him on the nose and snuggled further into his chest as the couple watched the sky turn a blood red orange colour. Bucky draped his signature leather jacket that smelled of aftershave and cigarettes over Darcie’s shoulders when the wind picked up and she shivered. After their sunset show was finished they strolled along the beach, hand in hand until they got to the sidewalk. Bucky sighed a little sadly and he moved her hair out of her eyes as he cupped her chin, his thumb rubbing against her smooth warm skin that was a little red from the blazing sun.

“What’s wrong?” Darcie pouted as Bucky’s hands moved from her face to her waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

“I wish that I could walk you home,” he said simply.

“Oh Bucky” she stroked his cheek softly to comfort him; “you know that you can’t. Thank you though,” she kissed his cheek to soften the blow of the rejection.

Bucky smiled but Darcie noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes; she wished that she could make him happy, “well, I’ll see you tomorrow at school doll.”

“Yeah, you will,” she confirmed with a wink and she pressed another lingering kiss to his cheek before she set off back home.

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

A couple of weeks later, the day before Homecoming Darcie left her last class of the day with a beaming grin on her face. The class had had a particularly nasty biology test, even Darcie – who was a natural at biology found it difficult. Though, she had passed with flying colours and she was extremely happy about that fact. Her dream to be a surgeon was still within her grasp.

Bucky obviously noticed the beaming grin on her face and said with a chuckle, “I’m guessing you passed then?”

“I did!” she smiled happily, “how did you do?” she asked and Bucky grimaced as he ruffled a hand through his hair.

“Not too well,” he tried his hardest to shrug it off nonchalantly but Darcie could tell that he was bummed.

She bit her lip thoughtfully as she, Sam and Bucky walked out of the building, “we can study for the next test if you want to?” she offered which earned her a winning smile as Bucky reached down and grazed his fingers up against hers.

Darcie was about to link their fingers together until Sam nudged her arm, “your dad’s squad car is right over there,” he hissed and Darcie gasped, she completely forgot that he would be collecting her from school.

“Buck, I’m so sorry, I have to go,” she chewed her lip as Bucky looked hurt at the hurried goodbye, “Sam do you need a ride home?”

“No thanks sweetheart.”

Darcie smiled tightly at Sam and Bucky before she walked as slowly as she could towards her dad’s car. She could see her dad’s expression through the car window, it was unreadable and she wasn’t sure whether he’d seen them together or not. Darcie closed her eyes briefly as she climbed into the deathly quiet car.

The ride back to the house was extremely awkward, every time she glanced over at her dad and opened her mouth she lost her confidence at the sight of his clenched jaw and the tight grip he had on the steering wheel. Darcie’s mom had made her favourite pasta dish and conversation between everybody seemed a little strained but mostly it was okay. Halfway through dinner Darcie’s mom directed a question at her.

“How did you do in your biology test sweetheart?” Darcie smiled lightly as she took a sip of her drink.

“I passed it, I got the highest grade in the class, I’m really quite proud of myself!”

“That’s great baby!” her mom beamed and turned to look at her husband, “isn’t that great Andrew?”

For one of the first times that evening Darcie’s dad made eye contact with her, “that is great, well done Darc,” he paused as he took a forkful of food into his mouth and chewed slowly before swallowing, “but you know what isn’t great? You being friends with that delinquent Bucky Barnes,” his face was like thunder, he looked very angry and Darcie almost cowered back in her seat and she suddenly started babbling and attempting to make her excuses.

“Dad, look I-,” she started but her speech was halted by her dad holding his hand up.

“Don’t even try and lie to me young lady,” he started sternly, a muscle twitching in his jaw irritably.

“Andrew,” Darcie’s mom began but she too was silenced by a glare.

“I saw the both of you leaving the school together today, I just can’t believe that you would ever jeopardise your future by befriending scum. I am so disappointed, me and your mother both. I didn’t want to believe it when my colleague told me that he saw the two of you on the beach together a few weeks ago. It thought that you were smarter than that, I was obviously very wrong. You’ll never become a surgeon at this rate; you’ll give up everything that you’ve ever wanted for the sake of a lowly criminal.”

Darcie’s chest hurt at the harsh words that were spilling from her dad’s mouth, she cared about Bucky so much, more than she could say but even she had to admit that there might be a little bit of truth in her dad’s words. She had never wanted to disappoint her dad and she desperately wanted to be a surgeon.

“So, what do you want me to do?” she muttered, dropping her eyes to her plate – she’d lost her appetite.

“I want you to cut off ties with him. As soon as possible.”

Darcie finished her story and she nervously glanced up at Bucky, Steve, Peggy and Carol. She rather thought that she ought to give them a proper explanation, they deserved that much. Especially Bucky.

“I don’t know what my dad would have done if I didn’t cut things off with you. He was so angry; I was scared that he’d arrest you or something.”

All four of them stared at her blankly, obviously completely dumbstruck until Bucky broke the uncomfortable silence, “right, thanks for um telling me the truth; I don’t know whether I should be offended or happy that it wasn’t completely your idea to break it off with me. Maybe I should be a little bit of both,” he finished and checked his watch, “I’d better go, I’m nearly late for my date, I’ll see you guys later,” he stood up from the couch.

Darcie’s heart clenched painfully, Bucky had a date, that’s why he looked even more handsome than usual. Darcie couldn’t take it if he left on these awkward terms so she followed him as he strolled towards the door, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Bucky, wait,” she called and he froze mid step and turned to face her, raising an eyebrow politely, “I’m sorry,” she finished lamely

He sighed as he cupped her cheek, “I’m sorry too, sorry that you didn’t feel like you could tell me the truth,” he placed a kiss on her forehead, just like he used to, Darcie closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, “I have to go, I’m sorry,” he whispered against her skin. By the time that Darcie had opened her eyes he’d gone out of the door, leaving a hole in her heart.

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

@theonelittleone @void-imaginations @dreamacoholic @thesswintersoldier @wavyjassy @harryngtonewithyourshit @iamariotgrrl @panic-naran

14 notes · View notes

shyshysmind · 6 years ago

Text

the beginning of a thing

This is the beginning of a thing. It is also published here >>>>> https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/178504141/write/705655879

enjoy :) Who am I? Your guess is as good as mine, really.Am I simply the young hardware store cashier with blue hair and long roots who sometimes wears bright red lipstick (which, by French fashion standards, is more of a warm red than a cool tone red and doesn’t match my skin tone)? Maybe I’m not all that complex; it’s possible that my life really isn’t much more intricate than what customers see when I scan the barcodes on their oak two-by-fours in their carts and take their dirty coupons in my thin white hand with a smile. For the most part, I don’t speak to my coworkers unless spoken to, and as far as customers go, I am on autopilot: “Hello, you find everything okay?” If the customer only sets one or two items on my counter (usually a soap-box-sized carton of screws or some small random piece of plumbing piping): “Would you like a bag for that?” (It makes me happy when they say no; plastic bags are horrible for the environment.) The customers usually insert their cards into the card reader on my counter and then stare at me in their idle, waiting for me to perform some magical cashier trick on the computer, unaware until I peep up and tell them so that the card reader machine is waiting on them to push a button or enter a credit pin number. Maybe I’m just as dull and reticent when I go home after nine hours of, “Hello, you find everything okay? Would you like a bag for that? It’s gonna have you select debit or credit--here’s your receipt, and here is a coupon for five dollars off a purchase of twenty-five or more,” as I am when I take my lunch breaks alone in the quiet of the training room, reading some overdue library book and pinching small bite-sized pieces off of a gas station brownie to nibble at instead of taking direct bites out of the suspiciously oily pastry.Maybe I’m actually the notions inside my head. Maybe I am just a tool that they use to be heard and make their dreams a reality; maybe I’m not my body or job. Maybe I am a successful, peaceful, light-hearted artist and author--I just haven’t published my novels or hosted any successful art shows yet. Or any art shows, for that matter.Perhaps I’m my mother’s daughter; stubborn and crazy, with an invariably rotten attitude and enough financial issues for myself and all of my fellow cashiers to build a boat out of and sail away from civilization and debt.Maybe I’m always so quiet because I’m holding my tongue, like my mother, and thinking about slashing tires and throwing ceramic dishes at skulls and sinking screwdrivers into flesh, all in the name or petty revenge or an intense burst of anger. Except, come to think of it, my mother doesn’t actually ever hold her tongue, so I suppose I might just be quiet for reasons entirely my own.Maybe I’m just like my mother’s mother, like my mother is so committed to convincing me I am, except fifty years younger; nasally voice, although mine is less whiny and severe; sitting in front of a computer for hours a day, except she uses the computer her husband bought for her to do lazy transcription work so she can have money for cigarettes, the only thing in life her husband won’t buy for her, and I saved up my paychecks in high school to buy my laptop so that I could leave Mudcap High School and graduate early through online classes; we both sleep a lot, and, as my mother said when I was in high school, I “spent a lot of time on my ass” just like Grammy does--although my time in bed was always induced by an inability to find the motivation to get up, and Grammy’s bedridden state came from staying up too late playing online solitaire. Maybe I’m just that girl from Mudcap High School whose hair displayed a new fresh (done at home) short cut and color of the rainbow at the beginning and end of every month whose clothes all came from Salvation Army and whose stomach was always making obnoxious attention-seeking noises in Spanish--wait, you thought all that time that I was a boy? Well, yeah, I guess that’s reasonable. I wore a lot of huge baggy sweaters.Maybe you just know me because you know somebody who knew me. In that case, maybe I only exist in your world and consciousness as the girl who broke Jo-Ellan’s heart, or the girl who tried to look like a boy but then dropped out and grew boobs and is now hot (in the online pictures, at least). Maybe your friend has a friend who knew my twin brother, and so you heard from your friend’s friend who knows my twin brother that my twin brother’s friend saw me on a dating app, and my brother told him, “Don’t worry dude, she doesn’t like dudes. She’s just looking for a sugar daddy.” And so my twin brother, whom we will call “Z”, laughed about it with his friend once the shocking sighting of Z’s twin sister on a dating app had passed, and all was well, but now people know that Z’s twin sister is a sugar baby and not as quiet and sweet as she seems.Maybe you heard about me from Dan or Katherine; maybe you hope to meet me someday, because I sound like a very sweet person and you like the artwork of mine which they showed you. Maybe you heard about me from Tyler, the guy I made sandwiches with when I worked at Subway in high school--in which case you probably believe him when he says that I did drugs in the back room of the restaurant. Maybe you don’t even know my name--maybe you know me because you’ve seen the art I post online. Maybe you feel very connected to me, and feel pleased to see me when you see that I’ve posted a picture of a sketchbook page I’ve completed. Maybe You don’t know my name at all, but the way I layer paint and colored pencils and vary the thickness of my lineart is enough. Maybe the portraits and paintings I share are enough for you to care about me.Maybe you’re one of Sage’s friends. Maybe you hung out with us the October night when it was warm and I was seventeen and he was eighteen and he put acid under my tongue with his goofy smile and then left my house because he was high and felt like God and my bathroom-sized bedroom was like a birdcage for him at that moment in time. Maybe you were there when he skateboarded from my house to Sebastian’s with more acid and weed in his backpack and the intention to share. Maybe you’re one of the three other guys who were at Sebastian’s house, already under the magical intoxication of Sage’s acid when he called a cab to pick me up from my house and bring me there to drink canned beer and smoke mediocre blunts until the sun came up and I noticed how swollen my lips felt, because acid always makes my lips feel all swollen and purple. So maybe you know me as Sage’s girlfriend who he didn’t call his girlfriend until I finally dumped him months later and he begged for me to stay and apologized for never giving me attention or being a good boyfriend. And that was the first time he had called himself my boyfriend.I don’t want to think about nights like those anymore. The boy I’m dating now regards LSD with as much hissing ostracism as if it were all cocaine sold from the alley behind a gas station dumpster. Just thinking about that night makes me feel high, though--my anemia leads me to shiver even in sixty-degree weather, which Midwesterners consider quite warm, but I didn’t mind the wind blowing through my maroon flannel and thin anemic skin that night. As I sat on the cold chipped concrete steps in front of my house waiting for the cab Sage had called for me, the cold was refreshing and good-hearted instead of a brittle cruel punishment from Mother Nature. I didn’t feel insecure about my dingy old black high top Converse; my high-waisted jeans and black T-shirt didn’t make me feel like I looked like a twelve-year-old boy; and the dead-ends in my chin-length purple hair were not worth my concern. The sky all up above and around me and the globe, hugging the horizon of the sleepy little dangerous city, cradling the most dangerous place in all of Indiana in its arm like a tired baby, was stark black, and I could basically smell it; it was a nice undiluted solid black, and there was no pollution hiding the stars. The stars had had a grand day, and were ready to make sure that I was going to have a grand night.The neighbors on all sides of our house were drug dealers, and those were just the neighbors we actually talked to and knew anything about. The National Guard Armory to the right of my mother’s house, right across the narrow one-way street, was comical considering the neighborhood it was in. But none of that mattered; for once I didn’t hate it all. The sky was a rich fragrant black, thick enough to choke you if it had such bad intentions; but its intention were only good. The black was the many yards of high-quality fabric of a fine lady’s skirt flowing endlessly down from a well-tailored strapless bodice with a lovely fit and comely sweetheart neckline. The stars were bright and small enough to be all the jewels and shiny beads which her personal tailor had surely spent weeks or months or even a lifetime hand stitching onto the top layer of her many layers of skirts.It was such a good night to wait outside for a cab.I will never have nights like that again; life is constantly changing. I can try to recreate that, but I will never get it right. Recreating such good things is a privilege entirely out of my pale mortal hands.Maybe you know me as the girl who drew really nice insects at Emmons Elementary when we were nine years old who has since moved to and from at least three public schools in the next city over, and then left public schools entirely right smack in the middle of junior year. Maybe that’s how you know me.You could know me as Andy. If you still know me as Andy, you probably either haven’t spoken to me since sophomore or freshman year, or you knew me in eighth grade when “Andy” was still a thing, and calling me by my real name now just wouldn’t feel right after all that time. I told people to stop calling me Andy junior year, and people obeyed--well, really I just stopped talking to anybody, so nobody called me anything. But the man I am dating now called me my real name yesterday, and it just sounded strange. He never knew me when I was Andy, and Andy only lasted a few years, and I don’t introduce myself as Andy anymore. I don’t care to be called Andy anymore. Yet it feels so strange, hearing somebody casually call me by my real name. Not knowing that I ever had another name. I don’t think I’ve really spoken to people since high school, so that was one of the first times I’ve heard somebody say it. My mother doesn’t even use my name--she’s never really called me my name, or anything nice.I’m rambling. My name just sounds weird. I don’t like it when boys say it passionately.There are so many people that I may be--I can’t even begin to guess which one you may know me as. Even if I were to know exactly what experiences we’ve had together or who told you about me, maybe you don’t even see me as what we’ve done together or what you’ve heard--maybe your own personal thoughts and emotions warped what you know about me. Maybe for the better, probably for the worse. Maybe jealousy came into play somewhere along the road, and no matter what good things you’ve heard, you refuse to accept that somebody who dated somebody who you wanted to date can be genuinely kind and good. Maybe you don’t even remember anymore why you don’t like me. You just don’t.Maybe you’ve loved me since freshman year, before you even knew my name, before you cut your hair short and before I grew mine out, so no bad things you hear about me sound right or can scathe your love. Maybe you don’t want to know me. Maybe you wish you did. Maybe you’re thinking about checking the back cover of this book and scavaging the pages of tiny nonsense text that comes before the first chapter and prologue just so that you can find some email or way to contact me because you think I sound interesting.However you see me now, though, that will change. The way I see myself changes at least three times per hour.

#writing #writer #author #young author #romance #short story #chapter 1 #book #novel #unpublished #editor #please give me feedback #gay #lesbian #high school #shyshyswords

22 notes · View notes