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superhero--imagines · 4 years

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Part 1 here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 here!

A/N: I already know some of y’all are going to be mad, it’s 2020 and twilight needs some diversity, don’t @ me.

* You’re not really sure how you got here

* “This ones done”

* Edward holds out the blood bag to you, carefully pulling out the needles from you beloved Deer, Hayden.

* “Ah, thank you.” You place it carefully along with the others, before lavishing Hayden with affection

* “You were so good today! You’re going to get extra carrots, yes you are!”

* You’re aware of Edwards gaze on you as he disinfects the injection point.

* “You know it’s illegal to have Deer as pets in Alaska don’t you?” The corner of his mouth is quirked in the smallest smirk you have ever seen, and you roll your eyes

* “Tanya got a permit, the official stance is they’re her deer, I just take care of them for some extra pocket money”

* Not that anyone would venture into the “siren house” to ask questions

* You knew people were probably wary of coming up to the estate, even the mail man looked dead scared when he left Irina’s Lululemon packages in the mailbox

* But you didn’t think the locals legit called the manse “The Siren House”

* Edward told you they used to call it “The Witch House” but then, upon seeing the Denali sisters, changed it to Siren

* Edward doesn’t say anything, just moves to take the filled blood bags up to the house

* Ever the gentleman

* You really thought Edward would show up once, figure out he couldn’t read your mind, and retreat into his own moody silence.

* You figured you would mostly be dealing with Carlisle, who would teach you how to draw blood from your heard of deers, and then you would be on your own.

* But instead it was Edward who volunteered to do it for you, Carlisle was busy with his day job after all.

* He shows up once a week, usually after school, and carefully extracts the blood

* Then he puts them inside the fridge and leaves

* You really don’t get what’s going on, if he hates you so much why even bother coming over in the first place

* You’re about to fall into your usual rhythm of handing him the blood bags, which he then puts in the fridge when he breaks your routine

* “Why-“ your head pops up from the small pile of blood bags and to him. He’s looking away, but then his gaze meets yours. “Why go through all this trouble for a few deer.”

* You grin and hand him a blood bag

* “Another vampire might say the same thing to you, why go through all the trouble for a few humans?”

* He flinches, and you laugh. He’s so unaware of himself it’s actually funny

* “For the record, I do it because they remind me of my (Dog/Cat/Pet).” He quirks an eyebrow at that.

* “Your pet?”

* You nod. You’re number one concern on arrival here had been whether your dog was okay, but sifting through your memories of this life, you realized your dog had passed away in the middle of high school.

* “When I look into their face, all I can think about is my dog” you shrug, it’s the same with bears and other animals too.

* “Also, it’s kinda disgusting to drink that blood straight out of the animal.”

* Draining the blood must have deducted something from the taste, you can’t imagine what that skunky revolting flavor would have been like if you were drinking straight from the animal.

* Edward laughs. It’s the first time he’s laughed around you, pearly white canines in full view, the skin at the corner of his eyes folds

* It’s cute, very boyish. You get what Bella was talking about now

* “You get used to it after a while” he shrugs

* You shake your head, no one should ever have to drink that crap

* “Here, try some of my blood” you say it like you’re offering him some cookies you made. You pick up one of the bags, still warm, and he quirks an eyebrow

* This isn’t the first time you’ve offered, usually he declines and rushes to leave

* One time it looked like he might say yes, but then he noticed Tanya and excused himself.

* He accepts the bag, holding it up with one hand

* “Do you pour it in a mug?”

* And so you and Edward sip your blood-Capri-suns in the kitchen that’s only now started to be used

* You sit in the counter cross legged, while he leans against the adjacent counter. Both of you silently sipping your meals.

* “This is really good” he finally says, his blood bag almost empty.

* “Who’d you have? I’ve been trying to add different veggies to their meal to see if it brings out a different flavour profile.”

* He had Henrietta, who you had been giving more citrus too. Partially for flavour, and partially because she’s your favourite

* “It kind of tastes like...fruit punch” Edward recalls after a prolonged minute.

* He seems so nostalgic, you wonder how long it’s been since he’s had human food

* “I think genetics have something to do with the flavour too, the breed from this region all seem to have a fruity aftertaste”

* “I’m partial to deer since they don’t have a strong game taste aftertaste.”

* “Yes! That part is the worst, it’s like eating a skunk” You scowl and he laughs again.

* You know he doesn’t belong to you, he’s Bella’s, in a few years she’ll be all he thinks or cares about.

* But maybe the two of you can be friends until then.

* All at once the moments broken, Edward stands a bit straighter, the smile on his face gone.

* You turn to look behind you to see Carmen.

* Her head is tilted to the side, a smile tugging on her lips

* “You both look like you’re having fun.”

* After that the conversation is pleasant, but it definitely stutters until Edward eventually leaves.

* “I think he likes you” You’re reading a book by the fire, the gentle heat is nice and it sets the mood.

* “What?”

* Carmen’s grinning

* “The Cullen boy is interested in you.”

* You just shake your head. You doubt it, Edwards only got a one track mind for one person. And it’s not you

* “It would be nice if we could be friends though, I don’t really know many other people my physical age.”

* Carmen stops mid-stitch on her embroidery hoop

* “Is that something you want? Because the Cullen’s have other’s your a-“

* “I don’t need you to set up play dates for me Carmen”

* “Understood”

* Edward comes by regularly, to help you with your animals. You’re both always under the (discrete) supervision of one of your guardians (excluding Tanya of course.)

* And with each visit you learn a little more about him

* You find out that right now he’s masquerading as a senior in high school, he’s considering going to college for veterinary sciences

* “Why veterinary sciences?” You wonder if he’s about to poach your best deer and start his own blood business when he shrugs

* “It’s one of the few degrees I don’t have”

* You’re drinking blood-Capri-suns out on the porch, he’s still in his school clothes, including a very puffy jacket

* “What were you going to do?” Your raise an eyebrow and he elaborates “before you turned, what were you plans for the future.”

* “I was on my graduation trip, I was going to college in the fall”

* You got accepted into your safety school with a generous scholarship.

* Edward doesn’t press any further. But you can tell that he wants too.

* Many nights go by, you experiment with you animals diets, have supervised hang-outs with Edward, you meet Carlisle every so often who basically gives you therapy and helps you control your emotions

* Life is good

* But your growing complacency with the situation is starting to bother you

* You haven’t forgotten about Alec and Jane who are still fighting so hard to survive, or the countless others who would prefer this way of life if they only knew

* You know the minute you start being content is the minute the world wins

* So every night -or really every so often, you’ve lost all perception of time, the nights in Alaska are totally fucked and these heathens don’t even have a damn clock. Your only really sign of time is the mail man dropping off amazon packages- you sit and dream

* You think about giving back to the community, about saving your friends, and about dethroning fucking Aro

* You’re only at the beginning now, there’s still so much work to do, but it’s a start

* You hear a noise and your eyes open

* If you had a beating heart it would stutter when it saw Edward standing beside your bed, your hand moves on it’s own through reflex, clutching your heart

* Under the circumstances you would expect someone else to laugh, but Edward just looks confused

* “Are you...sleeping?”

* “I like to pretend, it’s a nice way to end the day” he raises an eyebrow at that

* “It’s 4 in the afternoon”

* “Well damn Edward, we don’t have any clocks in this house, how am I supposed to know what time it is.”

* He does laugh at that

* “Is it...nice?”

* “Yeah, it’s pretty relaxing, kills some time too.” Noticing the curious look on his face, you ask:

* “Do you want to try?” You pat the space on the bed beside you.

* You’re fully expecting for Edward with his old fashioned virtues to deny your suggestion. So you’re surprised that after several long seconds of silence, and a rather pained look, he adheres to your request and lies next to you on your bed.

* It’s a king size bed, so he’s at least three Great Danes away from you, but the closeness still surprises you.

* “What do I do now?” He says, eyes closed.

* “Daydream, or fantasise I guess, about things that happened in your day, or things you wish happened, places you want to go and memories you wish you could relive”

* “What do you usually dream about?” He asks, eyes open now

* “I think about Jane,” the answer is automatic, and you regret it as soon as the words come out. But Edward’s expression doesn’t change so you continue. “I think about my deers and my family too.” Most of the time you’re just thinking about what animal you want to excitement with next tbh

* “And sometimes I think about you.”

* And how glad you are to have a friend

* Edward doesn’t say anything for a long time, and for a second you hope he hasn’t misunderstood your words, you know he’ll never feel that way about you. All of those romantic feelings are saved for Bella

* “Would you like to come to my house sometime?” The questions throws you off, and your expression illicit’s a laugh from him. “Emmett and Esme are dying to meet the newborn from the Denali coven”

* That’s probably true for Esme, you’re pretty sure Emmett just wants to have some physical match with the “Volturi-reject”

* “That sounds fun, sure.”

* Maybe they have a clock in their house you can steal

* Edward shows up the next day in his shiny white Volvo to pick you up.

* On either side of you on the front porch are Carmen and Kate with their most fierce expressions (and behind them is Eleazer who just looks like he’s along for the ride)

* “Where are you going?” Kate asks

* “Our home on the other side of the mountain, you’ve been there before” Edwards got a small smile curling in his lips, and an eyebrow raised.

* “What will you do?” Carmen asks

* “My family’s having a board game night, I think we’re playing monopoly”

* “What time will you bring them home?” Kate intervenes, man they’re not even pretending to be polite

* “Well it’s not a school night-“ Seeing his joke isn’t going to land, he rethinks his words midway

* “Whenever they tell me to.”

* You’re half expecting to get a curfew, even though this household seems to operate without the concept of time, when Eleazer interjects

* “Well be safe, and have a good time.” He slides a backpack up your shoulders. “I packed you some blood bags in case you get hungry, Henrietta’s since I know that’s your favourite.”

* He’s the only one waving as you get into Edward’s car

* The view as you drive is breath taking, the snow covered mountains, abs crisp green trees

* Edward laughs beside you, at your awestruck expression no doubt

* “You don’t get out much do you?”

* You have your nose practically pressed to the glass

* “Not at all.”

* The Cullen’s home is reminiscent of the one from the movies. All light, with glass everywhere. It’s like a aurora, all wavy with no true shape

* “Welcome to our home (Y/N)” Carlisle greats you first, and behind him is... Esme

* She’s not at all like the books or the movie

* She’s definitely not white, you can’t tell exactly what race, but she’s definitely a POC.

* Her caramel cheekbones seem even more prominent when she offers you a smile.

* “It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’m Esme.”

* For some reason her being a POC, makes you feel more comfortable around her.

* Maybe you will ask her to draw up those plans for a proper barn.

* Edward stifles a laugh behind you, and you raise an eyebrow.

* “Emmett is dying to meet you upstairs.”

* You follow Edward up the stairs, finally meeting the family that spawned four books and a movie franchise.

* None of them look like they’re actor counterparts

* For one Emmett is black. And also really handsome, he’s got this Chadwick Boseman look alike thing going on and you’re down for it (RIP)

* Rosalie looks basically the way she was described in the books, all blonde hair and angel faced, but she’s the only one

* Alice is definitely Asian, she kinda looks like Lana Condor

* Jasper.... is ambiguously brown, but it still makes you let out a sigh of relief when you remember he was a Major in the CONFEDERATE army.

* More to the story than someone who was blatantly racist and supported slavery.

* They’re all beautiful, and they terrify you. You’re not exactly sure why, but something primal in you tells you to run away as fast as you can.

* But Edward lightly brushed the small of your back, pushing you forward. Right into the lions den.

* “Hello, I’m Rosalie”

* Looks like they picked her to be their spokesperson, all glittering smiles and flawless cheekbones. She extends her hand, and you lightly grasp it.

* “It’s nice to meet you.”

* It’s surreal to think how you know almost everything about this girl, while you two are virtually strangers

* Jasper introduces himself next, all smiles and quiet gentlemanly behavior.

* You’re not really sure what to expect with Alice, from what you know this girl has seen every future you could possibly have.

* Who knows what she saw

* But when she stands she hugs you

* “It’s good to see you!”

* “Alice, you haven’t introduced yourself”

* “Oh, right. I’m Alice”

* Emmett claps you on the back like you’re an old friend.

* “So, I heard you used to hang out with the sadist twins in the Volturi”

* You can practically feel the tension in the air, even Edward winces

* “They’re not so bad” really, what did anyone expect when they were in that environment

* Emmett grins

* “That’s bad ass”

* The rest of the night passes in a blur. The cullen’s game of monopoly includes some monstrous version where they put 8 different themed boards together and play in teams (You’re obviously on Edward and Alice’s team)

* They also have some sort of structure where they put four hotels together and called it a mega-hotel

* The whole thing blows up when Emmett accused Alice and Edward of using their powers to cheat

* “What do you want me to do, I can’t turn it off when I want Emmett, trust me I would especially when you and-“

* “Oh shut up Emmett, like we haven’t noticed Rosalie has an awful lot of $500 bills” Jasper interjects

* “It’s because you always pay me rent in small change!” She screams

* “Now-“ Carlisle tried to interject but Alice stands up

* “That’s a lie! I saw you steal from the bank several times when Esme wasn’t looking” Alice screams

* It goes on like this until Carlisle Declares the game over, and shoos everyone away.

* “Sorry, I would say it’s usually not like this, but I would be lying” Edward grins and you shrug

* “It was pretty fun and... entertaining in its own way” Edward beams at you, and once again, you definitely feel the dazzling effect Bella described in the movies

* “Should I... take you home now?” You can tell he doesn’t want to take you back yet, and if you’re being honest you don’t want to go back either

* The Cullen’s house has so much light, and you can see the stars so clearly here

* And if you’re being honest things seem to be way more entertaining here

* Edward takes you to a nook which houses a grand piano

* You’re fingers instinctively roam over the keys.

* “Do you play?”

* “Just a bit”

* You’re not the one who knew how to play, not really. But now this body is yours. You’ve thought about asking Carmen for a Piano, you’re sure they would love something that adds to the gothic feel of the mansion, but always cast it aside.

* You’re busy enough with your research.

* “Play me something” Edward grins.

* Alec had said the same thing to you when you were first taken by the Volturi, at the time your mind had raced wondering which piece would impress him the most. Which would aide in your survival.

* But looking at Edward now, you know that it’s not the same situation.

* He really does want you to play whatever your heart desires

* So you play “Love like you”, accompanied by your quiet voice reciting the lyrics

* At some point Edward sits beside you, playing in a deeper key, adding another layer of depth to your performance

* Wordlessly, afterwards he plays a piece of his own, Claire de Lune. Which you know is a remarkably hard piece.

* Still halfway you chime in, your super human fingers keeping up with him with ease

* And so it goes on like this, you play a modern song, waiting for him to catch up and he does the same with a classic

* Like a never ending game of cat and mouse

* It stops abruptly when Edward is in the middle of “moonlight sonata” when Alice clears her throat from behind you.

* “I hate to disturb,” there’s a teasing grin arched on her face. “But if you don’t drop them off, Carmen and Tanya are going to come over personally to retrieve them-“

* You see Edward wince, no doubt reviving Alice’s vision through his ability

* “And I don’t think anyone wants that.”

* You nod, moving to grab your backpack when you overhear Alice say-

* “You never let me play like that with you”

* Edward let’s out some sort of noise akin to a scoff

* “Where did you learn those songs?” He asks when you’re on the road

* Well you can’t tell him they’re from artists who aren’t known yet

* “Personal compositions” you murmur, and Edward grins his dazzling grin

* You talk about nothing but music until you pull into the familiar circle driveway of the manse

* Right when you’re about to thank him for a fun time, he gently stops you with a fleeting touch to your shoulder.

* “I’m graduating next month,” he hands you an envelope which you assume has his graduation card. “I was wondering if you would like to come to the ceremony.”

* You hold the card with both hands stunned, he’s already graduating high school?

* That means only 4 more years until he moves to Forks, and another two until he meets Bella

* And you realize that while time is frozen for both of you until the end of the universe, you’re the only one who isn’t moving forward

* “Yeah, I’d love that!”

* You try your best to smile, but your sure it comes off looking strange

* You don’t talk to anyone, heading straight for your bedroom

* What’s next for you?

#twilight #twilight reader insert #twilight headcanon #twilight imagine #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #Rosalie hale #Jasper hale #alice cullen #carlisle cullen #twilight saga #twilight imagines #superhero—imagines

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

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Hello!!!

I'm here with some Muslim Hawks headcanons!!

Okayyy soooo you that headcanon of how Hawks collects trinkets? Yeah Muslim Hawks would definitely flirt with you by giving you churiyan (probably gold or red ones lol) and when you wear them, he feels so possessive and can't control himself and play with your hands and fingers telling you how he can't wait to put a ring on you and how these colors look so pretty on you

Speaking of jewelry, when you guys get engaged (which you will cuz he knows how to keep a good reputation with the elders), he gives you jewelry that has his feathers incorporated in it

Okay! But if its not churiyan, I think he would get you an anklet bracelet (payal?), and lmao he would corner you and would crouch down and just softly touch your ankle while putting it on you, and to tease you, he would slowly trace his fingers up your leg while looking up at you with his sharp and playful gaze and he would relish in the way you blush and squeak Hawks! And run away LOLL

Also! He loves it when you feed him, will coo and chirp like a god damn bird. Again you know that trope of the bride feeding the groom, he would totally grab your hand to feed him, and maintain eye contact the whole time, his hawk like gaze pinning you in space and you're just trying not die from blushing

Nickenames!!! Has a plethora of nicknames for you like meri jaan, meri chaand, etc. but his main ones are 'meri chhoti churiya' (my little bird) or 'meri methi churiya' (my sweet bird)! And everytime he utters these names, it'd make you soooo flustered! And omg if he calls you that in front or near the elders, you'd blush so hard while subtly glaring at him and he would just smirk and wink at you lolll

Also I feel like he would be that asshole who scares you when you're at a party and telling djinn stories LOL like the kids and others are all gathered in a room after dinner, its after maghrib, and you are telling djinn stories or watching a horror movie, and when the scary part comes, he would send one his feathers to tickle your feet or touch your shoulder or ear, and you'd squeak and jump right into him (cuz of course hes sitting right beside you, even though you tried to move away from him, you know halal distances and stuff) and he's just sitting all smug and being like "don't worry jaan I'll protect you" LMFAO

Okay okay, that's enough for now, I'll send more soon!!!!

WIAFHFHFHFFN THE FIRST SENTENCE I WAS SOLD!! man I’ve been so excited and literally WAITING to tackle these cuz you always deliver the best headcannons

I could totally see over the expanse of him trying to court you your wardrobe if accessories would slowly shift over to red and gold colors, and if you don’t wear them then he gets all pouty and moody until you catch his drift and run back to wear his colors:)

OO FUUCCKKKK YO PAYAL IS SO SEXY AND FOR WHAT?? Like maybe you’re at someone else’s wedding sitting down from dancing so much, or just stuffed with food when he pounces on your vulnerable state.

“Hey there churiya(bird), I hope you liked my churiyan(bangles),” he snorts at his cringe joke and you can’t help but loosely suppress a laugh yourself.”

“Ha-ha Keigo, verryyyy funny. Arent you supposed to be schmoozing up to your usual harem?”

“My harem?” He pretends to look shocked and places a hand on his chest. “I’m insulted, truly. It’s not a harem, it’s a cult.”

“Ugh!” You get up to leave when he drops to a kneel and grabs your foot, preventing you from leaving.

“What’re you doing?”

“You know, I might have a cult following, but I think id rather keep you as my high priestess. What do you say?” You feel sturdy fingers dancing along your feet and you giggle as he tickles the bottoms.

Then a cold lightweight chain is looped around your toes and around your ankle. You angle to look at it in surprise, and open your mouth to ask why he’s putting payal on you when his fingers start to wander.

Your mouth is stuck open as you watch in shock how his nails lightly rake your smooth skin, and trace up your kameez, letting the cloth ride up your bare legs in a teasing taste of what was his to come.

“Yeah? You enjoying that churiya? There’s more where that came from,” he whispers as he draws his head near and drills his golden eyes into your fluttering ones.

“You-what-“ you sputter as he grips your knee as draws small circles at the back of it.

“If you want me to to higher, you gotta take me out on a date first. Or put a ring on it, either way doesn’t matter to me.”

“Hawks!” You try to pretend you don’t enjoy the sound of his boisterous laughter as you spring up and run to hide your face.

You know he’ll be back though. He always comes back.

As for the bird chirping noises, YES. ABSOLUTELY AND 100%!!

It’s on your wedding when he’s sitting next to you, clad in gold and white while you’re in a deep red (much to his pleasure).

The adults are chatting amongst themselves and turned away from you both when you decide to indulge him. You delicately pick up a piece of laddoo and bring the food to his mouth, turning his chin with your hand under it to face you.

He looks at you with wide eyes and then grins when he sees what you’re doing.

“Come on lardki. Don’t you know feeding mithai is bad for birds? They could die, y’know” he simpers yet accepts the food heartily, chomping away and looking at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Hmm, that’s too bad. And here I was thinking birds mate for life.” You flick your hair and get a taste of rasgullah yourself, licking the milky substance off your fingers slowly and relishing when he swallows hard at the sight.

It’s hard to hide your grin when his chirps come throughout the rest of the evening during the randomest of times, his face turning as bright as your lengha when he remembers the erotic sight.

I guess there really is a way to shut him up after all.

AND YESSS YO THIS ASSHOLE JUST LOOVEESSS DJINN STORIES😭

I bet y’all would be at a party, the kind that ends at 1 in the morning when all the kids are tired and delirious.

“Alright guys, gather around. I’m about to lighten this party up.” He claps his hands and waits for all the kids and young adults to circle around him excitedly, their fatigue washed away by the prospect of hearing how another one of their great ancestors was possessed.

It just so happens that you find yourself seated next to him (with the help of his feather with poked the butts of 8 year olds away with subtle yelps).

He makes sure to give you his signature wink and grin especially for you before he starts the story, and you cover your mouth to hide your smile and roll your eyes.

12 minutes in, the lights are all off and everyone is leaning forward, hooked on his story.

“And then, you know what happens to the girl?” He asks lowly in the dark. He can sense everyone’s holding their breaths, yours included.

“N-no, what happens?” One girl asks timidly.

“He POSSESS HER!” Keigo shouts and uses his feather to disperse around the room, sliding under people’s feet’s and knees, causing absolute mayhem as they all run around in the pitch black room and scream.

You weren’t given any mercy either, except your special feathers lift up and tilt your body to dump on his lap.

When he feels your hands searching in the dark in panic of who it is, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close to him, using the void of the room to relish in wrapping his arms and wings around you.

It’s just you and him in that moment, amongst the screams and shouts.

“K-keigo?”

“I’m here meri jaan. I’ll protect you from those big bad djinn,” he chuckles and brings his head near your neck, not touching exactly but rather brushing his nose against the column of your throat and growling when you shudder at the goosebumps racing across your arms.

#mha hawks #mha #bnha #hawks headcanons #muslim hawks #muslim mha #hawks x y/n #mha keigo takami #bnha keigo

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choco-mark · 4 years

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hey bubs, i’m not feeling too well, so if your reactions are still open, could you write about how the boys would react to their s/o on their period? (if they’re not open, plz ignore this) -baby anon

hey babe! i hope you feel better, periods suck!! :( here you go, though, sorry it took so long ♡♡

reaction: nct dream reacting to you being on your period

mark

previously asked you to sit on his face and you had to let him know that...nah, he probably doesn’t want that and gets all flustered

knows how much cramps affect you, and tries to make you feel better with cuddles, if you end up crying because of the pain, he might cry too

gets renjun to cook you food because he knows he can’t but tells you he made it anyway, though you both know he’s not to be trusted around a stove

if you get moody, babe has so much patience for you, might even find it cute (or hot) that you’re getting mad so easily

renjun

sees you stained the sheets one morning but doesn’t say anything, just wakes you up and draws a bath for you while he takes care of the sheets

knows you have a tendency to cry when you’re on your period and tries to be the silent kind of comforter, and just lets you cry for a little, even though it hurts him :(

shower sex because he wants to distract you, and you seemed to orgasm so much harder when you were on your period, which just fueled him to make you feel good

you stain his pants while sitting on his lap, but he’s not even fazed, just worried about you and gets you to change immediately and get clean

jeno

buys you half the store when you tell him you’re on your period, and gets you like fifty different types of chocolate because he knows you like it

literally lays with you for hours in bed, just rubbing your tummy because it hurts so much :( and his hugs really do help through it all

down for anything that would make you feel better, and if that’s period sex, it’s period sex, he literally doesn’t give a shit as long as y’all are clean at the end

showers with you when you’re tired, and washes your body for you :( along with so many kisses all over your skin, feathered here and there to make you feel better

donghyuck

when you’re on your period, hyuck is also on his period, meaning he’ll just take care of you the whole day without taking a break because you’re his number one priority

asked you last month whether he could see you put a tampon in and you looked at him like ‘this mf really just said that’ and thankfully he didn’t ask that this time

doesn’t really like the whole idea of blood, so sex is a NO but if it includes your mouth and his cock...maybe, but only if you’re down for it

might even put his whole life on hold just to cuddle you in his arms and watch you drift off to sleep to his soothing voice even though you’ve got bad cramps :(

jaemin

jaemin is already sugary sweet, the absolute love of my life, and that isn’t gonna change when you’re on your period, it’s just gonna increase!!

cooks for you while you’re sitting on the counter because no, he doesn’t want you to stand or walk, he might even just carry you everywhere

doesn’t really give a shit about the blood and would make you feel good anyway, but probably in the shower because it wouldn’t be as messy, plus the orgasms

feeds you chocolate when your cramps are really bad, holds a heating pad to your abdomen, strokes your head while in bed, the softest baby

chenle

no, he doesn’t get fazed by your period as many people might think, and he’s not too young to get weirded out either, it’s normal!!

he’d spend time with you watching movies, playing games, doing anything that distracts you from the pain but it gets too much, he’s there to be your cuddle bunny :(

threatens to beat up your uterus for causing you pain, leaves little kissies all over you face, has you lay on top of him because he knows how much comfort it brings you

doesn’t like it when you cry :( so he’ll make sure you’re taking painkillers if it’s too bad, and even if they aren’t, he just doesn’t want to see you in pain or tears :((

jisung

when you call him explaining him why you’re not coming over to the dorms to visit him, he puts on his best hero jisung™ face to go battle for his girlfriend!

gets all soft when you open the door and he sees you in one of his massive hoodies with tears lining your eyes, and you have to explain to him that, no, you’re not sad, you’re just dying inside

rubs your abdomen while cuddling you, and it actually helps because just his presence calms you down in the inside, and helps you walk around, even though you can walk just fine

obviously doesn’t love your mood swings but babe will let you do anything: cry on him, yell at him, scream at him, anything i mean anything because he knows that you can’t quite control it but at the end of the day:

baby loves you so much :(

863 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

put her together again (06)

word count; 6299

summary; mitch goes to a therapy session, and hates what happens to you whilst he’s there, and hates himself even more for the role he plays in it.

notes; y’all, I gotta make one thing clear - I know irene comes off really awful, but think about how much she’s got to sacrifice to be able to save all the others.

warnings; anxiety attacks, and references to the following; child abuse, electrocution, imprisonment, stealing, and violence.

Mitch wasn’t sure what he had been expecting you to be like before a therapy session, but it wasn’t like this. Then again, this wasn’t your usual therapy session.

You were on edge, that much he could tell, but it wasn’t on edge in a way that he was used to. He’d seen you in many moods, all the way from the very first time that he’d met you as you’d been coming at him with a gun and a pocket knife, and a look in your eyes that read ‘no mercy’. He had seen fear in your eyes before, on the nights when you’d awoken in a fit of screams and tears, thrashing as your legs were tangled in your blankets until you’d rolled from the mattress so violently you’d hit the floor with a loud thud and he’d been rushing in to pick up the pieces and put you back together before morning.

He’d seen you upset, both in the ways you let it out, tears in your eyes and a cracking voice when you’d been taken back to your parent’s house, the realisation and resurfacing of who you were being prominent in your mind. He’d also seen the version upset when you tried to hide it, when you’d been told that you were being moved out to your own place, even though you’d voiced how you didn’t want to leave him, or the betrayed look on your face when he’d been able to return after an entire week, leaving you to think for a whole seven days that he’d abandoned you.

Mitch had even seen you angry, in the way that was utterly terrifying as you sat with clenched fists until you’d cut crescent-moon shaped marks into your palms as the furrow between your eyebrows created trenches, moody and snappy on days when your drawings wouldn't come out quite right with the way you were picturing things in your head, or the when you would slip up in the way you regressed to yourself, when your progress took a tiny step backwards for all the steps forwards you took when you were tired.

This was nothing like any of those moments, though.

This was chilling. It was calm and collected but unsettling quiet. It was a simple breakfast, with no music or dancing, and only the sounds of cutlery and tinkering pots and pans to break the tension, occasionally muttering underneath your breath. He was sure you could hear the grinding of his teeth as he listened to you remind yourself of who you were. Your name, your address, his name, your birthday, the gym you went to, your coffee order. Everything that made you who you were, making sure it was kept at the front of your mind, that nothing was slipping, and he absolutely hated that such a thing wasn’t something you got to take for granted like he did, that you lived every day in fear that it would all go away, slip from your grasp and slip from your life.

He ate his food quietly, choking back the urge to speak up or reach out, to offer you comfort and reassurances, because he knew just how badly you needed to stick to your routines, just how much they meant to you, and therefore, he knew that interrupting you and messing them up for the slightly selfish actions just to put his own churning stomach at ease could have disastrous results on your anxiety, and your fragile mindset.

He watched as you slipped away, taking his plate when he was done and offering him a small flick of the lips upwards, but you had barely met his eye at all this morning, and he could count the total words you’d spoken to him since waking on his fingers, and he figured he was already disrupting your rituals before your cognitive hypnotherapy sessions just by being here, but that he couldn't compromise on. He had to see it, he had to know that Irene was looking after you, that you were being cared for the way he would, that they weren’t using you as a source of information and draining you down more than you could handle, sapping you of all energy until you were just a hollow and broken shell. Not when he’d worked so hard to save you, and helped you to build that life that you so truly deserved.

With dishes washed and left out to dry, you slipped away without a word, your back to him as you wandered down the corridor to the bathroom, the door clicking shut, and a second later, the water heater had been humming lowly inside of the cupboard and the sound of water thrashing against the bottom of the tub, disrupted by your body joining the mix. He was left alone, to wander your bedroom and find some of his clothes, dumping the spare ones in your laundry hamper and knowing that you’d keep them and wash them, and he’d find them in the exact same drawer the next time he came over.

You were wrapped in a robe when you emerged, a little startled as the two of you met in the doorway, but for the first time that morning, you offered him the same kind of affections that he was used to. Your shoulders sagged, stiff tension dropping away for just a second, before you were slipping your eyes shut, leaning in enough to bump your forehead to his shoulder, twisting your head to rest your cheek in its place, and he could feel your short puffs of breath against his skin.

“I’m sorry.”

He wrapped an arm around you, squeezing tightly enough that you sighed out against him, your body slumping into him a little further.

“These mornings are always weird, it just puts me on edge. I’m not purposefully shutting you out.”

Turning to rest his chin atop your head, Mitch let his own breath go slowly, fingers running over your arm lightly. “I know that, and I understand it. You don’t have to apologise.” You only nodded in response, your hand coming up to sit on his waist, fingers curling in the material of his top as you allowed yourself a final moment to cling to him, to forget where you were going and what you were doing for a few seconds more, and when you shifted a little, he loosened his grip, chuckling as you hesitated in your movements. “You should get ready, Irene will be here soon.”

You backed away, closing the door as he left to have your privacy, and once again, he was shut out from you as you slipped back into your tightly locked state, protecting yourself against your circumstances. He busied himself, little jobs he knew you would’ve done yourself later but he could help you with now, putting away your dishes and plates and making sure everything as neat and tidy, the perfect way for you to come home to after you were shaken up from having someone digging through in your mind and shifting through your every memory and thought for the information they wanted, discarding what they didn’t as though it didn’t matter, like it wasn’t something just as vital in what made you who you are.

Drawers opened and closed, the creaking of floorboards as you wandered around, before the humming of a hairdryer was taking up, soothing enough to him with the ticks and shakes it made for him to use it to steady his own heart rate. This morning - this day - was all about you, he was just here to support you, but the few moments of singular reprieve he got to calm his own nerves and try to get past his own anxiety was more than eagerly welcomed, needing to collect himself so that he could be the strong one between you both today.

There was a soft knocking at the door, and he smirked a little, wandering over and taking his time in undoing the locks, before he was opening it up and offering an openly fake smile to the woman before him, who fixed him with a scowl in response. “You’re here.”

“I said I would be. Eight sharp, yes?”

“Shame. I was rather hoping we’d get to leave you behind.” He scowled at her then, being sure not to move out of the doorway to invite her inside as he reached for his shoes, a hand on either side of the doorframe to tug on his shoes, before his coat was following and he was sticking his arms out in jerky movements to pull the sleeves up, blocking her from stepping into the apartment as she huffed. He knew he was being childish, but the glare she gave him upon having no further actions or responses was more than enough to justify it, in his opinion.

They were locked in an intense stare-down when you finally emerged, clearing your throat, entirely unaware of the aggressive anger between the two, and you were pulling a warm coat up your arms. A pair of his sweatpants and a simple top, a knitted cardigan with black speckles in cream-coloured wool was sitting on your body, before you were slipping on your shoes, staring at them both expectantly.

“I’m ready. We can go.”

“Great, Mitch can take his own car.” It was a more chipper voice than he had ever heard from Irene, and he scoffed as he watched you lock the front door, a hand on your lower back as he guided you along, choking down the lump in his throat as he picked up the shake in your body as your nerves got the best of you.

“We have another, today?” The therapist jutted her chin out in Mitch’s direction, despite her gaze being locked with Irene’s, his superior only giving a curt nod, and you were lingering in the doorway, picking at the loose threads of your cardigan. “Come on in, (Y/N). Sit yourself down.” She was friendly enough, and you seemed to accept her words as such, shuffling your way over to the couch after hanging up your coat, and you settled down in the middle, laying out one of the pillows to lay downwards instead, and reaching out across the wooden surface to pour yourself a glass of water. “What about our guest?”

She turned to him now, and he cleared his throat, smiling politely as he offered her his hand, his name following, and she shook it gently, before his boss was making her presence known once again. “Rapp is here to observe, he won’t be interfering.”

It was like one of those times your parent inadvertently spoke to you while pretending to be polite in front of others, and he felt like he was being chastised by his mother for being loud and obnoxious in public, the woman nodding her head towards one of the chairs in the corner that he could sit on. You were sipping on your drink, eyes following the every movement of ‘Doctor Lindsay’ as she sat across from you, legs crossed as she leaned forwards, everything about her body language being relaxed and soothing as you sipped at your drink.

“Are you ready to begin?”

Your eyes flicked up to his, not looking for permission or support, simply as though you’d almost forgotten he was there, shocked a little by his presence, and the silence in the room felt stifling, before you cleared your throat. “I’m ready.”

“You remember all of the questions, and the routine we’ll be going through?”

“Yes, Doctor Lindsay, I remember.” Your voice was steady, emotionless once again, and a shudder went along his spine. Your eyes seemed duller, your lips in a neutral frown, and he felt like he was meeting you for the first time all over again. Crossing his arms over his chest in a protective manner, Irene leaned over the back of the couch as you lay yourself down, head propped on the pillow you’d laid out and legs stretched out all the way to the end.

“I want you to listen to my voice. Just my voice, okay?” You let out a slow breath, and Mitch found himself copying your movements, exhaling slowly in a mimic of what you’d done, and the rigidity of his muscles gave way a little. “I want you to focus on your breathing, and on your heart rate. Slow, in and out, as slow as you can go. Let it all go. Focus on your heartbeat.”

You licked at your lips, taking a final deep breath, and holding it in your lungs, and he could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his eyes, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to clear his mind, shaking it all away and bringing himself back to consciousness as her soothing voice and simple commands began to get him to slip into a haze place as well. She had an iPad out, bringing up a simple panel of controls, before the lights in the room were dimming considerably, and the hum of the heaters came to a stop, air conditioning taking its place, and the one above his head sent a sudden wave of cold chill into the darkened room. The blinds were closed now, so far that he had to squint to still see you, and he muffled the yawn he wanted to release, wrapping his arms tighter around himself as the temperature within the room dropped.

“Unit eight. State your location.”

He felt bile rise in his throat, the cool and commanding tone to your voice, and your entire body suddenly locked up, that tranquil calmness you’d gained while studying your own heartbeat was gone, your hands forming fists by your side and your body going stiff, and he could see the last bits of who you’d become slip away before his very eyes; “Unit eight is in the dorms, ma’am.”

“Which dorms, unit eight? Which building are you in?”

“Units are not disclosed that information, ma’am.” She nodded her head, humming to herself as she placed the device down, her and Irene sharing a look, before a voice-note recorder was being turned on, only a blinking light to signal that it was active.

“How old are you, unit?”

“This unit was born eight years, one month and six days ago, ma’am.” She was happy with that revelation, shifting in her chair, before her tone was going slightly softer once again.

“Can you tell me what is happening, right now? Tell me where you are, what you can see and feel and hear, what are you thinking?”

“I-I see the dorms. My bed, the sheets are scratchy, I don’t like how they feel when I sleep on them, it makes my skin feel itchy. I can hear the guards, they’re changing any minute now, the ones outside the door are getting impatient. There’s plastic, smooth, clean, and cold.” Your fingers twitched a little, your hand moving as though you were holding onto something, and then there was a laminated playing card slipped into your hold, your fingers flexing around it. Your thumb stroked over the material, before you were letting out a sudden gasp. “It’s quiet, now. The showers are running, that’s where the other units are. They’re good, I want to be good, but I don’t like it here. I don’t like it here, please, I don’t like it here.”

You were choking up, voice childlike and cracking as you spoke, slipping between the way he’d known you to refer to yourself as, and a child who didn’t know any better, the inner monologue of a frightened youth who was being made into a monster. “Focus, unit eight. It’s quiet now, why?”

You sniffled, gripping the plastic in your hand again tightly. “The guards are gone. It’ll be forty-six seconds before the others get here. The rounds are changing.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means it’s time to go.” There was a finality to your voice now, determined and adamant like a petulant child, before you were taking a deep breath, body jerking slightly from your feet and upwards, as though you’d jumped and landed on them harshly, and he imagined that was from the impact of hitting the floor as you jumped down from bunk beds.

“Tell me what you’re doing, unit eight.”

“I’m looking out of the window in the door. It’s small, I can’t see much, but I can see the hall. It’s clear. I remember the way, from training this week. I remembered. The second left, the first left, the third right, then straight ahead until I get to the big grey door.”

“Correct. How do you plan to open the door?”

“I stole a keycard. I have to go. I have to go now!” Your voice was becoming more frantic, and then, it all seemed to kick off. Your arm jerked, the one holding the card, as though you’d swiped the card over the door and opened it. Your legs twitched, jerking with each step as your breathing became shallow, like you were running, laboured and gasping as you went, and your entire body was shifting from side to side, up and down, subtle movements, but a considerable amount of twitching nonetheless. You were mumbling directions to yourself, marks you remembered, passing the labs and the gym, as well as the cafeteria, before a cry left you. “No, no, no!”

“What is happening now, unit eight? Tell me what’s happening.”

“There’s an alarm. It’s only been half a minute, they shouldn’t know I’m gone yet! The lights are red, and flashing. It’s loud, it hurts my eyes and my ears.” He knew what they were approaching, Irene had explained it all to him after choosing to travel with him on the drive over. You hit a wall, you got to your escape, and they knew you made it outside but then your mind closed in on itself, and you were lost to them. As soon as you could tell them what happened on the other side of the door, they could track the location, but you never could. “I’m confused. I lost count! I don’t know where to go!”

You sounded broken, and his heart clenched for you, standing up a little straighter and Irene turned her gaze to his own immediately, a silent glare that screamed at him to stay put, and he had to bite his tongue just to stop from making a comment and telling her to back off. Clearly, they were used to this, they must’ve seen you like this a dozen times, but it didn’t hurt him any less.

“The second left, the second left.” You were mumbling to yourself now, panting as you spoke, your chest rising and falling quickly. “The first left and the third right.” Your body was twitching again, like you’d run the route through in your mind and remembered where to go, before you were letting out a cry again, this one sounding a little more victorious. “The big grey door!”

“Have you found the door, unit eight?”

“Yes! Yes, I can make it!” Your arm moved again, before you were shaking, once along your body, and the temperature in the room went down again, even colder, and he assumed that wherever it was you were being kept at the time must’ve been somewhere icy. Irene turned on the fan beside you, harsh winds blowing silently over your body, your hair moving around lightly with the strands that framed your face. Their bodies both sagged as you cheered, before your face was falling again, and you were beginning to let out sobs. “They found me. They found me! It’s too slippery, I can’t make it! There’s too much snow, it’s too much!”

Irene ran a hand through her hair, the plastic dropping from your hands as you began to scrabble, breathing desperately and as your knees jerked, cries and whimpers leaving you as he watched your body shift in diluted movements of climbing and falling, trying to drag yourself along. You were hyperventilating, you were panicking, shutting in on yourself and you couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you tell me what you see, unit eight?”

You only let out another cry, and he watched as the therapist reached for the device, Irene standing up robotically and already reaching for the switch on the fan again as he decided enough was enough, your words mixed with desperate drags of breath and shakes as you got stuck in the cold.

“That’s enough. Stop it, you’re breaking her!”

“Rapp!”

“Unit eight is-” Your words cut off, Irene letting out a sigh as the flashing light on the device was taken off, Doctor Lindsay’s entire body deflating, and he didn’t care about how much they needed this information, or how much trouble he would get into, he just needed to be there for you right now. His hand found yours, and you whimpered under your breath, before you were squeezing his hand back. “Mitch, it’s so cold. I’m so cold. I’m scared.”

“I know, sweetheart, it’s okay. I'm here with you.”

“Hold on.” Irene’s hand shot out, her mouth agape a little, and the therapist seemed just as shocked. “Continue on, continue!” The device was turned back on, and he adjusted himself on his knees, opening his mouth to protest before the doctor was speaking over him.

“Unit eight, can you tell me what’s happening?”

“Mitch, they’re here! I’m not fast enough, I’m so cold!” Tears slipped out of your eyes now as you gripped at his hand, and he winced as your nails dug into his skin, scratching as you scrabbled. “No! No, please, no!” Your back arched up off of the couch, a violent motion that made everybody jump back, a loud shout tearing from you, one of the most broken and distressed sounds he’d ever heard.

“Get her out! Now!”

“No, we’ve never gotten this far!” Irene yelled back, uncaring of being delicate now, not wanting to break the trance, her desperation for the information taking over. “Ask her, Mitch, ask her what she sees! She’s responding to you! You’re in her mind deep enough that even her subconscious is seeking you out for comfort, you’re helping her keep going.”

His nostrils flared, but he knew he had to do as told, and so he turned back to you, a shaky hand brushing away your tears gently, before you flinched violently, pulling away from his touch. “Sweetheart, can you tell me where you are? What do you see, tell me about it? How would you paint it?”

“Paint it?”

“What colours would you use? What would it look like?”

You steadied your breath, relaxing slightly as you gasped, wet breaths as more hot tears slipped down your cheeks. “White. There’s so much snow, and there’s grey, too. Looks like there’s a storm coming.”

“You’re doing so good, keep going for me.”

He brushed a hand along the edge of your face, and you tipped into his warmth a little, your mind instinctually searching for him, his heart skipping a beat in his chest as you did. “Green. The trees are tall, so tall they block out the sun, there’s shadows, and the woods look dark, but I can’t take the road. It smells like Christmas.”

“Pine trees. There are pine trees.” The therapist's words were drowned out as you continued to whimper quietly before him. He shushed you gently, watching as you continued to fight, but your shivering was calming a little.

“Tell me about the building.”

“I can see it now, I’m almost at the end of the garden, the fences are broken, I broke them last week so I could get through.” He nodded, waiting for you to continue. “It’s a big warehouse, not like the usual houses. There are lots of colours on the side. Drawings.”

“Graffiti?”

“Yes.” You mumbled this word, going quiet, and suddenly your whole body is stiff. “They’re too close. I can’t go yet. I need to hide. Mitch, we need to hide.”

“Okay, sweetheart. We’re hiding.” You hummed, and he could see your eyes darting around under your eyelids, breathing held, and he rubbed his other hands gently over your ribs, coaxing you to take a breath before you hyperventilated. “Tell me about the drawings, what are they?”

“Not drawings, it’s words. It’s a warning.”

“What does it say?” You were getting frantic now, whimpering under your breath as a child would, and he felt sick to even be partaking in this, but you were so passionate about it, he knew that if you were of your own mind right now you would have told him to keep going, and you’d already told him how much you wanted to help the others. He needed to know that he could make you safe, that he could use this information to make sure he brought down whatever organisation had ruined you, and make sure they’d never harm you again.

“Берегитесь Ахмеровского леса, он проклят.” Beware the Akhmerovsky Forest, for it is cursed.

“Is that Russian? Did you get that?” He’d almost forgotten about Irene and the therapist, but she confirmed that she’d got it, the blinking device being waved in the air, and the two women looked elated, before he growled, cutting them off and drawing their attention back to him.

“Great, now you’ve had your fill of picking through her mind, can you bring her back?”

“Unit eight, can you hear me?”

“Mitch! Mitch, they’re coming!” You were whispering now, your hand clenching around his as your entire body went stiff, and he opened his mouth to reply, before a loud shout left you. Your entire body jerked, head to toe, and you were sobbing now, shouting and crying out for help, his name mixed in along the pleas and begs. “No, no, I’m sorry! Please, no! Mitch! Help me! I’m sorry!”

You were struggling to breathe, tears flowing from your cheeks as your legs kicked, your arm flying out so fast he barely had time to avoid it, and your glass of water was knocked to the floor, water spraying everywhere and glass shattering on the wooden tiles with a cracking sound that made him wince. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

“Mitch! Where are you? Mitch, please!” Quite possibly the worst scream Mitch had ever heard sounded out, blood-curdling and enough to make him feel the clenching of his stomach. Your hand was limp in his now, before it was flying up to grip at your ribs, and your breathing struggled. The cushion under your head slipped from the couch, your body twisting to the side, curling into the fetal position as you spasmed, like you were being beaten, and he could feel his own tears leaking from his eyes now.

Irene was shouting, authority and power in her voice, but it was no use, because among the white noise was Doctor Lindsay, trying to get through to you, every keyword and trigger break the two of you had was flailing from her lips, but you weren’t even responding to his voice anymore, panting and whimpering as you relieved each blow and beat in your mind. Finally, you stopped, crying to yourself quietly, and Mitch thought maybe that would be the entire scene, that would be the only fuel to haunt his sleep for the next few months, but then, you were scratching at your chest trying to breathe as it seemed you couldn't even get the oxygen into your lungs, what he knew well as a panic attack was forming.

“No, please, don’t lock me away! I’ll be good, I promise! Please!”

You were making fists again, knuckles white from the intensity of it, and he reached out to try and uncurl your fingers before you cut into your palms, but you jerked away from him. Your back left the couch, your entire body shaking and vibrating in a way he knew was a form of electrocution, and he clapped a hand over his own mouth to stop the noises he wanted to make from being released.

“Don’t leave me here! I’m scared, it’s dark! Please, don’t leave me!” You were getting worse now, a clammy sweat lining your skin as your body began to go entirely calm, each organ shutting down and becoming sluggish as the panic took over, but you still couldn't breathe, that part of you was still in overdrive as it failed to work. “Please!”

It was the last word to leave you, before finally, you were able to take a deep and gasping beat, everything going silent as your mind gave in, passing out on the couch as reliving the panic attack made you short circuit, giving up to reboot as it all became too much.

It had been hours, Mitch eventually having moved to sitting on the couch beside you, your legs across his lap after repositioning the cushion under your head. After it was all over, the quiet was more deafening to him than your screams had been.

Sprawled out on the cushions, you had looked utterly exhausted, panic and stress still stitched onto your features, your hair messy from your thrashing with flushed cheeks, but he figured the slow breaths you were taking was a good enough step, calm and quiet taking over the room. Irene moved first, motioning the therapist to go with her, and the two had stepped out of the room. At any other time, he would’ve followed them, demanding to know what information it was they were exchanging, but right now he was willing to let them have their confidentiality, because he was more concerned with your well-being.

He smoothed back your hair, lifting your head up to place a cushion underneath, and he couldn't resist the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, mumbling an apology into your skin for letting this happen to you, and for being a part of it. He comforted himself by knowing that you were happy, he soothed his own nerves by pretending that he knew how much you wanted this and that it excused the way he’d acted, but it didn’t. He should have fought harder to refuse, and he should have fought harder to resist Irene’s demands, or to pull you out while you were listening to him.

You’d had to relive the event that had been the final breaking of your spirit, the final piece that had made you into an obedient soldier who would do as told, and when you’d subconsciously put enough trust in him not to shut down, he’d made you go through it all. He felt awful, and so as the hours dragged on and the light faded away, the therapist and his superior having left you both alone a long time ago, he was still sitting here, waiting for you.

The dimple between your brows was gone, smoothing out, and the frown that seemed so reply embedded had faded, your face was simply left blank, chest rising and falling slowly, and it was enough to tempt him into a serene level of calm himself.

His head was resting against the back of the couch, eyes closed as the turning of the ceiling fan made him feel dizzy, and so he’d opted for complete darkness instead to block them out. With a hand smoothing over your leg, he waited patiently, head snapping up when he finally felt a more solid twitch than everything else had been.

He watched again, your nose scrunching up a little as you began to surface, and your lips parted, a deeper breath than the even ones you’d been taking as you slept, and his lips flicked up at the sides as you began to rise back up out of your unconscious. Suddenly, just like that, the peace was shattered once again. You let out a loud cry, fists clenching again before you were screaming, letting out a stuttered call of his name, followed by a sob, and he couldn't get to his feet fast enough.

He was kneeling by your side, skin growing damp from sweat once again as he tried to cup your face despite your thrashing, and you sat bolt upright with such speed that he felt backwards, banging his elbow on the coffee table and hissing out in pain as he grabbed it, but his attention was solely on you. Your eyes were glossed over and filled with tears, once that promptly began to leak down your cheeks, fast and heavy tears that dripped away to leave marks on your clothes, and he tried to swallow down the lumps in his throat as he watched you.

You still seemed a little dazed, staring off into space, and you jumped violently when he cleared his throat, as though you hadn't even known he was there until you were looking at him. Fear and panic became anger, and he almost flinched under your glare as you backed away from him, pulling your knees up to your chest as you pressed back into the cushions.

“You left me!”

He gaped, staring at you in shock, before hurt was washing through his body again, the tone of your voice breaking him, each crack and wave as you stared at him, sniffling sadly and clinging to yourself for support. Shifting again, he moved, taking a seat beside you on the couch, and you didn’t move any further away, but you refused to meet his eyes, and he let out a deep sigh.

“It got bad, and you left! You left me alone!”

“It wasn’t real, sweetheart..” You cut yourself off before even saying your next words, raising your eyes to look at him, before you were whimpereing a little under your breath, and he tried to inch a little closer to you now.

“It wasn’t?”

“No, it just felt real.” He offered a hand out, placing it on your knee slowly as you watched him go, but he smiled a little when you didn’t push him away or back off, your tense stance slipping away a little as exhaustion too over, the fight or flight instinct slipping out of your body and leaving you with nothing but aches and pains, and very tired. “I promise, I would never leave you. I’m sorry I helped them, but you did so well, sweetheart, and now you’ll never have to do it again.”

“It’s all over?”

“It’s all over.” You only nodded, wiping your cheeks on your sleeve, and he could see how sensitive and sore the puffy skin must been, your eyes red, just like the tip of your nose, and he watched as you seemed to process the information, cogs working inside your mind as you became yourself again.

“You won’t leave me?”

“Never. I promise.” You let out a slow breath, before you were uncurling your body and slumping down onto the couch cushions. He offered his hands, standing and pulling you to your own feet, and your legs almost buckled underneath yourself. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

You grinned a little at that, and he didn’t realise just how much he’d been longing to see that expression on your face again until he was seeing it now. He helped you put on your jacket, and grabbed his coat, patting down his pockets for his keys, tugging them out as you signed your name and the time in the visitor book at the front reception, mumbling a goodbye to the friendly receptionist who wished you a good evening, before you were on your way with him out of the clinic. “I just want to go home, now.”

He wasn’t sure you even knew you’d said the words, but he nodded anyway, holding the car door open for you and letting you hop up into the seat.

He quickly followed your actions, and he couldn’t get away from the therapy practice fast enough, watching in his mirrors as it faded away into her distance, until it was blocked by other buildings and he could no longer see it, finally feeling like he could relax fully. You were safe, and conscious again, and he knew you never had to go back. You’d forgiven him, and so maybe now he could forgive himself, and he felt like the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel could let up.

You were playing with the music channels, settling on a classical music station, the low notes of piano and guitar filling the vehicle, and it was soothing to say the least, feeling like each little melody helped to lift away his fears and wash it from his mind, and you were hypnotised by the headlights of other cars, watching as they flashed by along the roads as he took various turns, before you were sitting up a little straighter, staring out of the glass at the road.

“No, no, Mitch. I want to go home.”

He turned, glancing at you quickly, and fixing you with a puzzled look, but you didn’t see it, staring out on the garden with concern once again. “That’s where we’re going, you live here.”

“No, I don’t want to go to where I live.” You reached over, your hand resting on his arm, squeezing urgently as he slowed down the car. “I want to go to our home.”

Mitch felt his heart leap in his chest, lost for words for a second, before he was only nodding, driving right past your building and picking up speed once again, and he didn’t miss the relieved noise you made as he did. “Okay, sweetheart. We can go home.”

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp/reader #mitch rapp american assassin #mitchtober #mitch-tober #mitch month #dylan obrien mitch rapp #dylan obrien american assassin #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 4 years

Note

heyy, could you do a headcanon of the marauders getting jealous? thank u!

Alrighty I’m gonna apologize cause these were kinda short but I did them really quick cause I couldn’t sleep and needed to do something... enjoy 😂

These are really shorter, Damn. Also I have like 10 or so headcanons I plan to get out tomorrow or Wednesday so keep sending them in if y’all want for whoever! If I make a mistake, I blame the fact it’s 2:30 in the morning lmfao.

Remus Lupin

- So Remus didn’t get get jealous often

- But when he did, oh boy

- He’d get really sarcastic too

- No Y/N, of course I’m not jealous of some guy hitting on my girlfriend. Why would I be jealous of that?

- You would assure him he had nothing to worry about

- He would believe you of course, but he still didn’t like the thought of ANYONE flirting with you that wasn’t him

- He turns super moody and just kind of glares at the guy hitting on you until he stops and when the guy doesn’t stop

- Remus lets his possessive side out

- Meaning he’ll just show up randomly behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and rest his head on your shoulder

- Like he just wanted to let anyone who did know, that you were his girlfriend

James Potter

- James wouldn’t mess around when he sees someone flirting with you

- Like that boy goes full on jealous right away

- He would get all grumpy and just like overprotective

- He’d probably want to talk about it though

- Like he’d want you to know why he’s upset and he’d want attention and just the confirmation that he didn’t have anything to worry about and you wouldn’t leave him to date some Slytherin who thinks a cocky personality is a good thing

- But James wouldn’t blame you for being jealous like he’d blame it all on himself

- Well and the other guy

- He should know you have a very loving boyfriend who gets jealous when other people touch things that aren’t theirs

Sirius Black

- If Sirius got jealous over you he would definitely cause a scene

- not a big one, but like definitely drawing attention to the matter

- Oi! Mate! That’s my girlfriend you’re touching! Keep your hands to yourself.

- But then afterwards Sirius would ‘disappear’ for a little while, which usually meant he knew you and him were going to talk about what happened

- And usually he just wanted to be angry a little more

- You let him of course, first to cool down and second because of what usually happens next

- Jealousy cuddles!

- Basically meaning Sirius would not like having not seen you for hours and apologize then.. well... cuddles

- Like you take over the whole couch for hours and don’t say a thing as Sirius let’s the rest of his anger dissolve with you in his arms like you were supposed to be

*Not my Gifs* *Let me know if it’s yours!*

I’m accepting Headcanons!

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @nathaliabakes @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash @emcchi @rauwz @herondalescecilys @chewymoustachio @smilexcaptainx @faith-quake @clarkesplaylist

Harry Potter: @accio-rogers @songforhema @hahaboop @paigeyisme @missmulti @daddyloonglegss @ellie-emb @angelinathebook @marauderswhisperer @emmaloo21 @obsessedwithrandomthings @jackryanplz @mirjanak

Marauders: @onthebroadway @gayravenclawpotato @fanficflaneuse

Remus: @serenefreakgeek

#remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin headcanons #james potter headcanons #sirius black headecanons #remus lupin #james potter #sirius black #harry potter #harry potter x reader #marauders headcanons #marauders

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missbeautyandherbeast · 4 years

Text

By Any Other Name

Draco Malfoy X Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: You hated Malfoy and he hated you and you were okay with that. It was natural. The Malfoys and the Lupines hating each other. It was fine by you... so then why did you care when he got hurt?

A/N: Alright y’all. Here it is! A small piece to what I have coming for you guys. At the moment we’re gonna keep it in book 4 because... well I want to. A few notes: 1. I gave the Reader a last name (and something very close to my own) 2. Because I’m American, so is the reader (it’s explained) 3. Yes, I am a Gryffindor (but I have a problem with the House system, but I won’t get into that now) Please let me know what you think! Do you guys want a seperate blog dedicated to this?

HP Tags: @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog

Fourth year at Hogwarts and of course Malfoy stood right there on the train as we shipped off. I didn’t say anything as he and Ron and Harry got into it again, though I wanted to. It had been four years and the only person that Malfoy hated as much as Potter, happened to be me.

Our families had been rivals for... centuries. In a desperate attempt to break the cycle, my parents moved to America, with me. I had no contact with Malfoy or his family... until I got my letter to Hogwarts. Then the time came to go back and be who I was meant to be.

When first year came, there was a blond-haired stood beside me in line alphabetically, and though he didn’t talk to me, and scared off other students, I did manage to get a smile from him. I knew his nerves matched mine. We had reputations to live up to. It gave me hope that I wasn’t alone.

Then I found out he was a Malfoy.

And I was a Lupine.

Slytherin and Gryffindor.

I guess it started then. Every class we had together we had avoided each other. Shunned each other. I refused to rise to his bait, and I suppose he grew bored. We hated each other in silent. Unlike Harry, Ron, and Hermione—who I was quite close to, but not completely taken with—I sighed and shook my head.

That was, until third year and the entire Buckbeak incident happened. Then I wasn’t quiet anymore. I was almost worse than Harry about making snide comments to the ‘Slytherin Prince.’ I hated injustice and I was tired of being quiet about it. And Harry wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and Hermione wasn’t the most vocal... I on the other hand was both, and it infuriated Malfoy to no end. Because there was one thing that I had on him:

I was a pure blood. And he couldn’t do anything about that.

Our rivalry grew. Every day it was something different. Every class we had together we challenged the other. I won most, but the few he did win he wouldn’t let me live down. Our duels left him angry and brooding and me grinning and smiling all day.

Maybe I could see why our two families didn’t get along. He was too easy. It was almost fun. It also helped me in my classes—to beat Malfoy at his game I had to be smarter than him.

_________________________________

The Fourth Year

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a pure blood,” He sneered as I got off of the train.

I snorted a laugh and rolled my eyes, Harry and the other two had gone on ahead, leaving me with Malfoy and his two goons.

“Careful Malfoy, I don’t think I’m a mirror,” I quipped, a wicked grin on my face.

I could see him grow red as he looked for a comeback. I simply walked off.

“You won’t win! No matter what you do!” He shouted.

“I don’t have to win!” I turned around, still making my way towards the school. “I just have to beat you!” A smile stayed on my face for the rest of the night.

_________________________________

I watched as Harry turned away and Malfoy rose to cast a spell against him. I drew my own wand to counter him, but there was no one to cast a spell on but a small silvery ferret, where Malfoy was standing.

I stared at the small thing, a smile growing on my face. This was almost too easy.

Moody came then, started scolding the little ferret Malfoy, holding him by his tail and I itched to tell Moody that’s not how you’re supposed to handle any kind of animal—even if it was Malfoy—but McGonagall beat me to it.

Something, that was beyond any rivalry, gripped my heart when I saw Malfoy, now human again, curled up on the floor in pain and fear. I was about to reach my hand out to help him up, but Hermione gave me a nudge. A reminder.

“Don’t talk to me,” Ron said quietly as we sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

I was almost to lost in thought to notice that he had said anything.

“Why not?” said Hermione in surprise, drawing me from my thoughts.

“Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,” said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. “Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret . . .”

Harry and Hermione both laughed, and a smile touched my lips as I ate quietly. I didn’t quite agree, and I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I should be laughing at his misfortune. It was almost too easy. The entire situation was a gift from my ancestors, and yet something was... off.

“He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,” Hermione said. “It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it —”

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I didn’t like the idea that he had gotten hurt... or could have gotten hurt worse than he already was. But why did I care again? We were enemies. That was that. And yet...

I tuned out Ron yelling at Hermione at her comment.

“Hermione’s is right guys, it could have hurt him,” I muttered.

I looked up from my plate and Ron and Harry were staring at me like I had three heads. Hermione was indifferent, the look on her face like she knew something.

“Any why do you care? You hate him more than the rest of us.” Harry pointed out.

“I compete with him yes, and he’s a pain, yes, and I wish I never had to see him again... but he doesn’t deserve to...” I trailed off knowing I was fighting a losing battle.

“I’m off to the library,” Hermione stood, pushing her plate away.

“I’m gonna go too,” I stood, pushing away my half-eaten plate.

“But why? You don’t have homework!” Ron complained.

“I’m not doing schoolwork,” Hermione said in passing as we left.

As we walked down the hall Hermione didn’t stop looking at me. I sighed and kept to my own thoughts, trying to unravel the dilemma that the situation presented.

“You like him,” she nudged me.

“What? No! I don’t!” I deflected. “Me!? Like a Malfoy!?”

She laughed.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell the boys. But if you want to check on him, he’s probably in the infirmary complaining.”

“Why would I—”

“You really think I believe you want to go to the library?” She raised an eyebrow. “You hate the library. You study in your room at all costs,”

That was true, I preferred my own space and to study in the comfort of my own bed and room. It was hard enough focusing, let alone focusing on things in a place I wasn’t comfortable in.

“I just... I don’t know Hermione... seeing him like that. No one deserves that. I know Malfoy is... Malfoy... but injustice is still injustice?” I offered. It was some sort of explanation.

“Go,” She ordered. “I’ll see you later.”

I debated a moment more then decided.

“Thanks, Hermione. I owe you one,”

“Just go!” She shoved me off and I changed directions heading towards the infirmary.

Thinking that this was the stupidest thing I ever had done, I, for once, shoved every preconceived notion about Malfoy that I had and went to go and see if he was... okay.

Ugh.

I could hear him complaining as I entered the hallway that held the infirmary. A smile touched my lips as I neared the door. Some things would never change.

“Can I help you, dearie?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Here as a visitor,” I smiled sweetly.

“For who? Mr. Malfoy?” She raised an eyebrow at me. She had seen both of us in here as a result of our little rivalry.

“Against my better judgement, yes.” I sighed.

She let me in and immediately his eyes snapped to mine. His eyes were puffy and red, like he had been crying. He looked pitiful. I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t have it in me.

“What are you doing here? Come to make fun of me?” He snapped, crossing his arms.

“Where’s your posse?” I asked, folding my arms as well, cocking my head back. “I thought sure they would be with you.”

“Am I their keeper?”

“I thought so.” I smirked.

“Whatever, Lupine,” he rolled his eyes.

We remained quiet around another as time stretched out. There were so many things that I wanted to say but didn’t. I wanted to ask if he was okay, if he needed anything, if he was still hurting. But I also wanted to laugh and make fun of him. I wanted to put him down and never let him live this down. I wanted to write a letter to my parents so that they knew...

And I did none of that.

“You make a cute ferret,” I noted and turned to leave, wondering why I went in the first place.

Part 2

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sortasirius · 4 years

Note

Do you know if JIB10 happened before 2019 SDCC because i remember that's when Jensen said his infamous "where is destiel real" line? i want to know if it was a diversion of some sorts or just him being ugly about it.

JIB10 was in May of 2019, SDCC is in July, so yeah JIB was before they were pitched the season arc and the ending of the show, and before Jensen reached out to Kripke.

Listen, Jensen has said shit like this for years, literal years, some of it more pointed then others. (One time at a con a few years ago he literally said “Destiel doesn’t exist”). This is where people get the fodder of “oh Jensen hates it and would never let it happen.”

I have a couple of reasons why I think that’s not what’s actually true:

1. Jensen is a grump. Always has been. He’s moody at cons sometimes and says stuff like this all the time. His energy can change in a literal nanosecond. Basically I’m going to link this and just....yeah.....he can be very grumpy, which leads to snarky comments like this.

2. Jensen’s first exposure to shipping was Wincest. Like. That would be enough for any uninitiated person to be like “yeah lol this whole shipping thing isn’t for me.”

3. People. Will. Not. Leave. Them. Alone. About. It. I get it, I’m the same way, just like any clown I spend all of my waking hours thinking about the way Dean and Cas have looked at each other for eleven years, but that’s my choice. Every con, every appearance with fans, the cast gets asked about what they think about their relationships on the show, and I think Jensen knows he’s damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t. If he leans into Destiel, a bunch of fans are going to be pissed, if he writes it off, a bunch of fans are going to be pissed. So that could be another reason why he sort of ~fluctuates~ (or, rather, fluctuated more before they found out the ending and direction of the season last year). Sometimes he says shit like “where is Destiel real” and then sometimes he says “Dean has no taste, clearly.” Sure, there’s been a LOT more positive shift with him since midway through last year, but he’s always just sorta flip-flopped on the subject.

4. Jensen, rightly so, believes that he knows Dean Winchester better than anyone. He probably has opinions on his acting choices, how he’s chosen to portray Dean over the years. He’s always gotten defensive of Dean, and I can’t blame him.

5. Y’all, as someone who has worked with actors on my own personal work, they don’t have a lot of say in what goes in the scripts and what doesn’t. Yeah, Jensen and Jared have a little more sway than most actors on a project just bc they’ve been with the show from the beginning, but even if, for some reason, Jensen went to Dabb and was like “I hate Destiel and I don’t want you to make it happen” uh. I’m sure they would have sat him down and explained their reasoning, why the arc is the way that it is, whatever, but they wouldn’t just change the arc of the finale season and the arc that Dabb has been trying to get greenlighted for literal years because one of the actors doesn’t like it.

6. Jensen doesn’t hate Destiel. He just doesn’t. I also literally refuse to believe that they have not talked about the DeanCas arc over the last few seasons, it simply wouldn’t make any sense. As a writer, as directors, you have to tell your actors *something* about what you want from them, about what you’re expecting as an overal emotional through line for the major characters, otherwise acting choices are going to change throughout the season. Jensen has likely known the direction they were wanting to go since *at least* season 11. He’s an actor, and a damn good one at that, I can literally almost guarantee you that he’s not sitting around mad that the writers are moving Dean and Cas’ relationship from subtext to text.

I get it, you hear things like that from him and it’s hard not to draw the conclusion that he thinks a certain way, but I really just don’t buy it. I truly chalk most of those comments (whether they’re about Dean and Cas or something else) up to being overworked, tired, grumpy, whatever.

#anonymous #lilly answers #spn #jensen #spn cast

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calypsoff2 · 3 years

Text

One.

Licking my top lip as I walked into Tianna classroom “We have Tianna’ dad here, shall we all go outside and celebrate Tianna’ birthday” my daughter’ teacher said, Tianna pulled a face at me looking down, she didn’t want drama, so she says but it’s my daughter birthday, I’m gonna do a little something for her “yes!! Do we get cake!?” A kid in the classroom shouted, nodding my head “there is cake and food, the whole nine for her class. Tianna is paying you see” I joked, Tianna ain’t getting up from her seat to see me with her moody ass “if we all want to form a line so we can go outside and can we all thank Tianna’ dad too for doing this” making my way over to Tianna, she is either happy or moody, she is smiling either way “Thank you Tianna’ dad” the class said, crouching down to her “you not getting up from your seat, I got cake. Uncle TJ is here too, I got him to dress up as a Bratz doll” Tianna laughed “liar, that means he dresses like a girl” nodding my head “that’s because he does, I don’t get why you don’t want a party? What is wrong?” My daughters keep saying I do their hair badly; I think they are right with that point, Tianna hair is struggling “I don’t want it, I don’t want cake either” rolling my eyes “right, is that because mom didn’t FaceTime you, I told you baby. The time difference is really big, she was asleep. I mean I am not excusing her for not doing it but she knows how hectic it gets in the morning, Imani is demanding and you know that, but she will make it up to you. I am here anyways; Rylee is also coming out of class for you. You love Rylee don’t you” she nodded her head “come then, big seven for you baby. I can’t believe my baby is growing up so much” getting up from my position “I think she is ready now” Tianna is hundred percent the moody child, but I think it’s because of being the middle child and the fact she was born so close to Rylee, a year between them. She always kind of lived under that, I don’t think she got Robyn like Rylee did in a weird way, and also Tianna put Robyn’ plans back a lot and then she got pregnant again, like she was not happy about it but it happened. It sucks but it’s like Robyn is sacrificing her family time for this, I am doing it all and I can only do my best with these girls. They be stressing a nigga out, especially Rylee. She gives me heart pains and Imani; those two girls alone drive me crazy I am getting grey.

Tianna is getting shy as we made our way outside and her class started to sing Happy Birthday to her, looking down at her as she held my hand with a grip trying to hide away. Trying to pull her forward “come here” picking her up “Happy Birthday dear Tianna” I joined in smiling at my beautiful baby, she is so overwhelmed with her grumpy self picking her up “awww Happy Birthday princess, you going to blow the candles out baby, let’s do it” she’s so emotional “dad, I’ll do it for her” Rylee said stood right next to the cake “watch out, go on baby. Blow the candles out” leaning her down “hurry up Ti!!” Rylee spat; she eventually blew the candles out “yay!! Big girl, a whole seven years old” stepping back and placing her down on the ground “you like it baby? It’s bratz? You like bratz” she nodded her head, crouching down to her “you like? I’m glad you do” pressing a kiss to her cheek “TT, why are you crying for” TJ asked, wrapping my arms around her “she is overwhelmed” looking over at Rylee, she is busy wanting to eat “awww it’s ok, your friends are here” her little friends are just staring at her “why is she crying?” Her little white friend asked, “she is missing her mommy that is all, but she is ok” she moved back from me “I’m ok dad” she said that still emotional as hell “you sure?” I laughed a little “yes daddy” she sniffled; she is trying to be strong again. Rylee made her way over to me “come and eat now Ti, you are creating drama” Rylee said, she is forever headstrong that girl “she will, sit down. We will come and eat” getting up from my position, she is so sensitive this girl of mine.

I was expecting to go home but I am sat with my daughters eating lunch with them “remember, uncle is going to pick you up after school, I need to do a little interview and I won’t be able too so he will come and get you three. I will see you at home and then we leave for London, I am taking you out of school for this” Tianna clapped her hands “remember, this secret is between us. You don’t tell mommy, ok?” These girls can be such snitches, so I need to make sure they are on my side “so why was Tianna sad?” Rylee asked, “she is missing mom, we all are and it’s ok to be sad about it” I added, I don’t mind them being sad about it, I don’t want them to keep this to themselves now “mommy didn’t call” Tianna sad little voice “she called me” Rylee is a pain, side eyeing her “she called the phone, but you were asleep” I shushed her “why she call you!?” Here these two go “ok, that mobile phone is being taken off you both, you can’t share so you both not having it! Stop” girls are a pain, drive me crazy with their pettiness “dad, why Rylee call mom and I can’t?” Tianna turned in my lap “you were being a pain, remember you had to go bed early for being cheeky. Doesn’t matter now, just finish your food” I am tired, I need a break from these girls too. I am pretty much the stay at home dad, I may be in Fenty Corp, but these girls make me so busy that Jen is doing all of the work, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Now that is out of the way I can go to this big boy interview; I am blessed to be invited for this “how long you going to be out in London bro?” G asked, I shrugged “I am not sure, wife is just busy as hell. Like she is just throwing things out, one after another. At one point I didn’t know she was in Mexico at one point; I just know she is in London right now and I want to catch her there. It’s her Fenty clothing line fashion thing, so she’s there right now. I know she is missing us. So I will let you know” funny that she is calling when I am speaking on her, answering the call “Rabbit killer, you missed my middle pookie birthday celebrations” it sounds so busy in the background “don’t Chris, I already feel awful about this. I feel like shit already, sometimes I just think if I am doing wrong. I did ask Rylee to put Tianna on, but she said she got told off, I am missing so much Chris. I just feel stressed right now, I feel so bad, but I know if I FaceTimed her I would be crying but I feel bad, how is she?” Robyn asked; I know Robyn is feeling it, she is feeling a lot of pressure. She did have to stop and start projects, things got delayed because of her getting pregnant, and then again she did but we good over here, I mean the girls do miss her when she’s gone “very emotional, wants mommy and why didn’t mommy call and then Rylee kind of stirred the pot and said I spoke to her and I told her off, but we all miss you” which we do, I don’t want to pressure my wife like that “same, what about my little pumpkin. She’s still being the menace?” I chuckled “she’s still being the sly naughty one, if she draws on her stomach one more time, I’m gonna snap” I chuckled “you’re so good to them, I said to Rylee don’t be hard on him, she goes he doesn’t do hair like you, he isn’t you. We want you, but I said he tries but you are being the best dad ever, they are lucky” I cooed out “thanks, trying though babe” it’s hard as fuck to bring up girls, I do struggle sometimes.

Since being with Robyn, since being a father to three girls it has really humbled me so much and I’ve changed, I know I have changed a lot. I got new friends, new circle. Investing in things, I am big on social media, I do club events, not so much now but I am well known so when Big Boy asked if I wanted to come on for a sit down of course I said yes, he’s a good guy “good seeing you again” getting up from the seat and dapping him “you too, the show is about to start. I had to pee, sit down. We can have a good talk; this guy is a genius. We want to know what it is like to be married to Rihanna” I laughed as he sat down, Herb is with me here, but Big Boy is funny “in ten seconds” the producer announced, chewing on my bottom lip waiting to be counted in. Looking over at Herb “you going to spit bars?” shaking my head “that isn’t business like, we got to be professional bro. Relax” he is dumb “big boy radio, I told y’all we have everyone and anybody on the show and I have been seeing this guy a lot, you all may know him as Breezy, Chris Brown or Rihanna’ husband or for me. The luckiest motherfucker on this planet” I chuckled “we have Chris Brown on the show!” he shouted, the producers in the room clapped “what’s up?” I said smiling “we got Herb, Chris’ prodigy and friend. I just want to introduce Chris properly; I feel like I am not giving him the props and that is unfair of me. We have a young black man that was locked up, he’s come out, put his head down. Opened a clothing line, met his wife, ended up moving onto be a vice president, modelled. And then now he is moving onto handling music artists. He has given back to single fathers, you have a foundation specifically for single black fathers, I want to get into that really. How did that come about for you?” I feel proud of me, he didn’t even add Rihanna into that “erm, well I would be a hypocrite to say I know how it feels to be a single father or be in a household that has that but my best friend, my brother. He is a single father of a son. He lives in LA with his son and erm he just turned to me and said there is so many black fathers that are taking care of their kids with no help, nobody actually looks at them they see mothers. The help is always there for them, so we set up a group and we see these men just stepping up and it’s nice to see. We help them with getting jobs and stuff for the kids, tips too. It’s hard having daughters; I don’t know how anyone man does it without a woman to help them. So I have my mom come in, helps these men to do their daughters hair. She comes in every so often, because she is in VA, but they appreciate it so much. We have centres here and in New York, it’s beautiful to see black men stepping up because nobody ever speaks on them, we have that title that we don’t so yeah” rubbing the back of my head “amazing work Chris, it’s true. We don’t speak on that, we really don’t and when I read what you started, I thought yes. A black man helping other black men to rise, this is why when I saw you at Diddy party, I was donating. This is the moment, so I had to do this brother and get you on the show” dapping Big Boy as he reached his hand over to me.

“So Chris the biggest question here is, what is it like to be married to Rihanna? Come on, we all got that question, how long you been married for now? Seven, eight years now? You sure did put a ring on it quick too” I laughed “yeah, I had too. Actually it’s nine years and it has it’s testing times. Every marriage there is testing times like now, we are apart. She is in London, and I am here, I know people are saying. I say people but I know these people, they are like your home with the kids, and she is running around the country, one minute here, and the next she is in New Zealand and then China. This has nothing to do with them, I don’t mind it. My wife is living out her dream who am I to hold her back? I can work in Cali; I don’t need to be there. I can work from home and be here for the kids, why do we need to start jet setting around and disrupt the kids. I do miss her, it’s hard. Having three daughters, it’s so hard but being married to Rihanna is fruitful in many ways” I busted out laughing “as we can see, you got three kids nigga” Big Boy added “I don’t think it would have stopped, but Rihanna she had to hold back on her dream because she got pregnant again, then another year out, she released the album, and it was around the time she came back from the USA leg of the tour, she fell pregnant again, then her dream got put on hold again, so this whole Fenty Corp was in waiting for long, now I am kind of banned from sex” everyone laughed with me “I don’t blame her, how did you feel to have three girls? You must have felt damn, again!?” I sighed out “Rylee I was like yes, a girl. I am happy. Then with Tianna, we didn’t even find out, so I was like yes, a boy. Waiting there, the nurse turned to me and said girl, I was like ok I can take that, two girls. And then the third one, I shed a tear. Like not going to front, I did. But they are all my princesses, I am getting grey, quick too. I am going to die early; I am really just battling these girls. I got my youngest just being a wrecking ball, she is four and I be telling the eldest two and she is in the background just breaking the girl’s stuff, I don’t like telling her off because she reminds me of me” Big Boy cooed out “so you got a favourite?” I just smiled not saying a word “she is youngest too, so it happens brother” I miss Imani actually.

I haven’t packed anything come to think of it but I am home and I can only imagine the mess of the home, I do fucking miss Robyn. I be working hard here, it’s hard being here but I also don’t want to ask for help because it’s a think of if I ask my mom, then Monica doesn’t like it, she wants to be here too then Monica gets at Robyn because she isn’t home, she isn’t being a mother so it’s like I have to get on with it. Opening the front door, I can just hear screams of course. They are playing, it’s like schools out for them, I am taking them out of school just to go London to see Robyn, I miss her and the girls do too. Placing my car key in my pocket making my way to the noise “you kids are crazy” Imani saw me “mamacita!” she is just the sweetest “daddy” she ran to me “you been playing in dirt again?” picking her up, she didn’t answer me put yank my hat off “bro” walking towards TJ “just watching them play, they adamant they wanted to play in the pool” they really had to get the toys out “thanks for picking them up, you didn’t want to go in the water?” I asked “no!” she spat, frowning at her “I ain’t trust them with her, you know. So she stayed with uncle, didn’t you!” she nodded her head “he gave me cookies! I want juice” I bet she does after getting cookies “and what we say when we want cookies? The word” Imani played with my hat before placing it on her head “please!” she said it so I will.

These kids think they can get away with no cleaning the shit they bring out “Camron, I will whoop your ass too boy. Get your white ass outside and help” I caught him sneaking off “you know what TJ, this is the first time since Robyn left to go that we ordered pizza, I cook. Honest, but you know. It’s the night before we go so I thought why not, but once I get them all in bed then I will pack things” I dragged out, Robyn is calling. I stared at the call and then looked over at the kids “you not picking it up” I shook my head “if I do then they aren’t going to complete the task, and all they do. Including Imani will argue over the phone when she is on, I will call back when they are less hype. I am going to have it out with Robyn, not in a bad way but I want her to be at home more. Not even for me, the girls. It’s been a month now, she hasn’t been here, and they are missing her badly, I feel like I am not fulfilling their girly thing. Even Mel, she isn’t here none of the girls are so it’s like they miss that. We need to speak on it, they are growing, and they need her as much as they need me, you know” TJ nodding his head “tell her Camron does too” I chuckled “you take Tianna and I take Camron, I need a son” TJ laughed out “our kids are so lucky, I was just thinking and I am like the life they live is blessed, I am happy though. I am glad I have Camron with me” my smile grew, Rylee mean mugged me. She is Robyn, she hates when I am smiling when she is cleaning “I deadass nearly fell out laughing, Rylee came into bedroom and obviously Robyn ain’t here, so I am like clothes on the floor here and there, she goes mom doesn’t allow clothes on the floor dad, it’s a mess, pick it up. I stared at her and was like oh my god. You are literally Robyn, scary though” it does scare me “I am training Camron to look after his sisters, he got three too” I feel for that boy, even Imani bullies him so he got a lot to deal with.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Chrianna Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fanfic

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killemwithkawaii · 4 years

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you ok senpai

(cw: mental illness, dysphoria, TMI)

Yes and no. Rest assured I’m not in any danger, but tbh I’m still straight up not having a good time rn. This is a difficult time of the year for me personally, and there have been lot of additional little problems and stressors that have all been adding up to make it worse. The cherry on top was getting my period for a second time this month, which has never happened??? My body said: “Hey buddy, heard you’ve been feeling pretty shitty! I bet some surprise pain, dysphoria and additional moodiness will turn that frown upside down! :)” which is where that drawing came from;;;

I really appreciate you asking, and for the support you guys have been giving me lately. I know you come to this blog for the good vibes but I’m really glad y’all still stick around when I can’t produce them. It means a lot 💕

Hopefully I’ll feel better soon so I can focus on making some February-appropriate content! I’m feeling the yan, craving the spice, yearning for romance, hankering for some gore, and have a mighty need to draw/write all of it 😈💌💞

#K.E.W.K. answers #Tw Dysphoria #tw gender dysphoria #tw mental illness #tw period mention

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3nh4 · 3 years

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hihi, i saw you were doing ship request and i love them hshs,, can you pls tell me who’d you ship me w from enhypen/txt¿?

I'm an 03' Capricorn with an Aries moon and Gemini rising,, I like to stay inside and love rainy days 'cause they're perfect for a warm cup of coffee. I'm not really an outgoing person but if someone asks me to do something I don't doubt saying yes. I might be a little shy if I first meet a person but if they're nice, I can get comfortable and open up quickly.

I'm not really sure, but I think my aesthetic goes for a grunge dark academia. I have black long hair, dark eyes and I'm 5'4. From the outside I might seem a little intimidating sometimes, I've had many people tell me that when they first met me they thought I didn't like them lol. But actually, I am very nice to everyone and I'm a great listener for people when they need someone. Even though I can be moody, I like to give love and be patient with those I care, sometimes I come a little maternal too and that gets kids to like me easily and get along well with me.

I looove music and I listen to many genres. I think most of the time I go for the slower type of music, those that keep you vibing and just help to relax.

I love to draw, read and cold weather. I'm only smart for the things I like, for example, languages (i speak four of them). But then if you ask me about idk, mathematics, or chemistry, I'm the worst just because they're not of my interest and that makes it way harder for me to understand and learn them.

I hope i didn’t make it so long and i just want to say thank you in advance,,, have a great day!

Take care <3

i ship you with jay & beomgyu for sure!!!!!

for jay i think he’d really like someone on the grungier side, and he’d love that ur shorter than him lol. it also takes him a little while to warm up and open up to people so y’all may be a little awkward for a while, but eventually you’ll be attached at the hip. most of your days with him would be spent all cuddled up on the couch listening to slow beats on spotify <33

beomgyu is a little different. he sees your cold exterior as a bit of a challenge. i think he’d encourage you to get outside & out of your comfort zone more. of course he wouldn’t push you to do anything you don’t want to, but i think he’d open your eyes to new experiences!! he also seems the type to want to sit down and listen to u ramble on about your passions and teach him new things. either way he’d always be doting on you, you’re so lovely to him :(

#txt ships #enhypen ships #asks!

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thephantomofthe-internet · 5 years

Text

Candy Hearts and Paper Roses

Steve Harrington x Carol’s Sister!Reader, Tommy x Carol

Word Count: 7,251

Warnings: Pregnancy, Smoking, Body Shaming, Swearing, Marriage

Author’s Note: Did y’all know that Carol’s last name was Perkins? Or that Tommy’s was Hagan? I didn’t! I also thought Tommy was more of a Hanson. Well, whatever.

Tag List: @madkskillz @moonstruckbucky @hotstuffhargrove @scoopsahoyharrington @thechickvic @alex--awesome--22 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @hawkeyeharrington @sunflowercandie @kaliforniacoastalteens @songforhema @mickmoon @spidey-pal @buckybarneshairpullingkink @baebee35 @myrealloveissleep @allfandomxreader

You found out that Carol was pregnant before anyone else did. You found the test in her closet, in her black high heel. It was your own fault, she scolded when you confronted her with the test, you shouldn’t have been trying to steal her lavender turtleneck when she told you that you couldn’t borrow it.

Maybe she was right. Then again, you weren’t stupid enough to let Tommy Hagan knock you up less than a month after graduation. Tommy Hagan was beyond stupid. Carol wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box either, but you’d always assumed she wouldn’t let herself get caught up. Guess you were wrong.

Both your families freaked. A wedding was planned, a tiny diamond put on Carol’s finger, and her college fund spent on a tiny, run down shack of a double wide. She wasn’t going to college anyway. She wanted the baby, she could raise it on her own. Tommy wasn’t going either, not that he ever wanted to. The air force was the right place for him, that way he didn’t have to be there for the kid, just like his old man. A grotesquely nuclear army family. Maybe Carol would sell Avon, get her cosmetology degree once the kid was in school, cut hair at Marie’s shop. Maybe Tommy would excel at flying fighter planes, maybe he’d teach flying. Or move to commercial flight like his dad did. You hoped that they’d have an okay life.

You hoped even more that Carol wouldn’t pick ugly bridesmaid’s dresses.

Your mother insisted that Carol make you her maid of honour. “She’s your baby sister!” she cried from her seat on your family’s ugly floral couch. The two of them had been planning out a guest list and you made the mistake of walking past on the way to the kitchen.

“I promised Tina that she could be my maid of honour! She’s my best friend!” Carol whined. She was three months by then, her pregnancy just beginning to show.

“Tina will be happy just to be a bridesmaid. But your sister is family and we put family first. You’ll make your sister your maid of honour or you’ll have no bridesmaids at all.” Your mother warned, moving the paper doll representing you up to the bridal party. Carol had really spent too long on making her table diagram.

“Mom! That’s completely unfair, you can’t do that!” Carol cried, her red hair whooshing around her head.

“Carol, your father and I are paying for this wedding. If you want to do it your way, you’ll get a job and fork over the dough to pay for it yourself.” Your mother replied harshly. Carol shut her mouth after that, crossing her deer like arms over her chest.

It was settled. You’d be the maid of honour with Tina and Macy trailing behind you. Tommy would have his brother and Mason Pruitt in his party, with Steve Harrington acting as best man.

“Tommy’s brother isn’t his best man…” Carol muttered as your little group walked into the bridal shop in Hawkins, Nana’s Bridal. The weather was just beginning to turn cold, leafs turning brown and crunchy at your feet.

“And I can’t stop him. He’s not my son.” Your mother chuckled, examining the make of a white polyester nightmare on the sale rack. All of your shopping was to be done on the sale rack. Your parents weren’t putting much money into this wedding.

Carol insisted on shopping for hours, to the point where Tommy and his party waltz into the shop to meet the group for lunch and found Carol crying in a puffy, whipped cream looking dress with chintzy flowers blooming out of the neckline, held on by clear glass beads at their centre. Apparently Melanie Moore had just bought the same dress and she’d seen everything in the shop and nothing was perfect. Tommy just laughed at the scene, elbowing Steve and Mason in the ribs, whispering about how stupid she looked. You’d never seen a girl in a wedding dress hit their groom, but then again you’d never imagined your sister as a bride. Maybe the image would’ve been more expected if you ever thought she’d get married. Your mother broke up the scene, telling the Carol to go get changed so she didn’t ruin the dress. That she’d wear her old wedding dress if she didn’t want to pick one.

Carol chose the floral nightmare when Tommy wasn’t looking. Melanie wouldn’t be seen in it until after her anyway. The group went off to lunch without a word. Carol and Tommy went back to being lovey-dovey sweethearts. Tina rushed off to gossip with Macy. The parents huddled to regroup and cope with the scene. Suddenly, you were alone.

You turned to Harrington out of desperation. He looked about as exhausted as you were. “How’d suit shopping go?” you asked, drawing Steve’s attention immediately to you.

He chuckled, leaning down to whisper in your ear “Don’t tell your mom, but we didn’t go.” You looked up wide eyed. Steve smirked “Yeah, we all own black suits and white dress shirts from other things. We’ll get matching ties when we know what you’re wearing.” He nodded to Carol, who was gripping onto Tommy’s arm, pointing out a horrifying mustard yellow velour dress with matching bolero. You cringed, hoping she was making fun of the dress rather than genuinely choosing it as an option for her friends. You really hoped she wouldn’t put you in it as punishment.

“Pray for me, Harrington.” You replied with a wry smile, bouncing ahead to join your mother, hoping she’d slip you one of the unlabeled white pills she was taking, or at the very least an Advil.

Steve watched you go, your own hair moving with every step you took. The light caught the strands, haloing your crown in golden light.

Yeah, he was fucked.

Carol’s little sister wasn’t exactly someone he’d usually pay attention to. He’d known you since you were a little kid, with scraped knees and ripped tights. You were a wild little thing, always chasing after him and his friends, trying to impress the older kids in your paisley pilgrim dresses and shiny Mary-Jane’s. You were a little girl, then a stroppy preteen who didn’t want to hang out with her older sister but wanted to do the same things she did, then, out of nowhere, you had grown up. Standing tall, haloed in light, keeping up with every punch her older sister could throw at her, laughing all the way. You weren’t the little girl who cried when her teacher’s were mean or her sister abandoned her on the playground and you weren’t the middle school kid with dirty ripped jeans and a moody attitude. You’d grown into someone new. Someone who intrigued him. Someone he couldn’t stop staring at, even when Mason smacked him in the back of the neck and tried to engage him in football talk, Steve kept his gaze and focus on you and you wide grin. Shining in the sunlight, radiant and proud and beautiful.

He felt like such a creep. He was perving on his friend’s girlfriend’s younger sister.

But he couldn’t escape you. Every weekend, as the wedding date grew closer and Carol grew bigger and bigger, he saw you. The wedding was set for Valentine’s Day, another note of pure cheese for the nuptials.

You weren’t insanely focused on Harrington. You had too much damage to try to control. Your mother and Carol seemed hell bent on torturing you, although your mother seemed to be unaware of the pain she was inflicting on you. They wanted to deck out the hall in pure white and pastel pink, candy hearts on the table in glass bowls and a mix of real red roses and paper ones as centrepieces. The whole thing was going to look like a slightly more expensive version of the Valentine’s Day parties your homeroom classes had in elementary school. The bridesmaid’s dresses were the worst part.

You, Tina, and Macy were dragged back to Nana’s Bridal shop in town, with Carol and Tommy in tow. You were not impressed with Carol’s grabs. It turns out she really liked that awful mustard velour nightmare. Your mother had to hold her back, although her only reasoning was that it didn’t match the colours. They had to be pink or red to match the colours of the wedding. The boys had to have matching ties to the dress colour. It had to match. It was a Valentine’s Day wedding.

You vowed to yourself that you’d never be this cheesy.

Carol spent the appointment torturing you, putting you into the ugliest pink dresses she could find purely to laugh at you. Everything was awful and itchy and smelt like plastic. You wanted to crawl into a ball and die. While Macy and Tina wowed the crowd in the nicer, more refined dresses, you were the frumpy ugly duckling.

The last dress Tina tried on was the choice. Tea length salmon pink polyester with a high boat neckline and soft layered cap sleeves. The dress was plain and simple, no excess sequins or crystals. It was also on sale, which meant your mother jumped at the dress; telling Carol that she could put little fabric flowers on the waistband to match hers. She still pouted.

“Ma, that dress isn’t going to work. It’s going to look terrible on Y/N.” she snapped, pointing her stubby nail at you. You were still dressed in a similar pink dress, although this one had a white lace appliqué to cover your cleavage. You felt your face heat terribly, tears brimming in your eyes. Macy and Tina refused to look at you and Tommy had long ago went to use the phone at the front desk.

“Here, Tina go change and Y/N, go try the dress on.” Your mother instructed. Tina turned on her heel and headed back into the dressing room. You sighed, following behind the salesgirl as she returned you to your own poorly lit dressing room. The salmon dress came into your dressing room quickly and you slipped it on. You looked yourself over in the mirror, wiping the tears that had built up in your eyes as you looked yourself over. You thought you looked fine, but you knew in your heart that Carol was going to shoot you down no matter how good you looked in it. You took in a deep breath and stepped out of the dressing room, heading back out to see your family.

As if on cue, the bell over the front doors chimed and Steve Harrington’s chipper voice sounded by the entrance. Tommy and Steve joined the group. You looked down quickly smoothing your skirt.

“Now, you see Carol, she looks fine.” Your mother said “Y/N, turn around show us the whole picture.”

You rolled your eyes, but obeyed, turning slowly to let the material swirl around your ankles.

“Ma, she looks like one of those ballet dancing hippos from Fantasia. Y/N needs a wider skirt and more details to hide her-” This was what you expected from Carol. Her not so subtle jabs at you were poison dipped. Usually, you could handle her, but today it was too hard. Tears began to well up in your eyes again, which you quickly tried to hide, turning to look yourself over in the mirror as if you were looking over what Carol was saying.

“Wow, you look great Y/N.” Steve cut in with a grin. “The colour looks great with your hair.” Everyone turned to look at Steve, confused or surprised or annoyed. You turned to look at him as well, surprised. You didn’t expect a compliment from Steve, much less over your looks.

“I agree, Steven. Y/N looks wonderful. Carol, this is the dress. This is what we’re going with. We’re not getting two dresses. You like this one, we’ll do this one. We can add a flower to the waistband, they’ll be wearing jewellery.” Your mother added, standing up to squeeze your shoulders comfortingly. You smiled up at her as she sent you away to change. Dress shopping was over, thank god. You heard as you left your mother add “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all Carol. You’re too hard on her.”

“I’m just trying to be helpful, mom. I don’t want her to go out there and look like an idiot.” Carol retorted. You couldn’t see her face, but you felt the sneer digging into your back, her hatred never stronger than when she was told that she was in the wrong.

When you came back out, everyone was impatiently waiting for you, chatting absentmindedly. Your mother announced that the group would come back for a fitting in two months time, in January. Your mother wrapped her arm around your shoulders. She told the girls to find nice jewellery and matching shoes for their dresses and the boys to get their salmon ties and to remember their tie clips. Everyone was sent on their way from there, Carol and your mother leaving you in the dust.

You felt a firm tap on the shoulder. “You wanna go for a drive?” You met the eye of Steve Harrington and his lopsided grin. You chewed your lip, thinking for a moment, before nodding.

Steve and you drove in silence for awhile before stopping on the edge of town. The weather had gone cold and the wind had picked up in the wheat fields, blowing softly into a tan blur. You and Steve sat in the front seats, staring out the windshield in silence.

“So…what’s up with your sister? Is she always this much of bitch or is it the hormones?” Steve asked softly, cracking his window. You reached into your purse, pulling out a pack of cigarette and lighting one, offering the pack to Steve.

You puffed out a cloud of smoke, chuckling to yourself “She’s always been a mythic bitch…just usually not so much in public.” You said, offering Steve your lighter.

“Why does she do that? She used to bug Nance too I just don’t get it…” Steve asked, lighting his cigarette and bringing it to his lips, passing you back your lighter.

“That’s just girls, Harrington, if you’re not their friend and they notice you, you’re an enemy.” You replied, looking out the window at the empty field in front of you. “We can’t have any competition.”

“Why’d she think you were competition?” he asked, turning his attention to you, resting his arm on the gear shift.

“She’s always been the pretty one, and now she’s fat. She can’t handle it.” Pregnancy hadn’t brought Carol the glow everyone promised. Instead, it gave her acne and swollen feet and greasy hair. It didn’t even make her boobs bigger. She had just reverted into herself in middle school, except with a baby growing inside her.

“She hasn’t always been the pretty one…” Steve muttered. You turned to look at him, your brow furrowed in an intense stare. Steve simply shrugged in response.

“Well, she’s always thought that she was. And now she’s pregnant and having her dream wedding and it’s still not what she wants. I don’t know what she thinks is gonna happen once she’s married.” You smirked, turning to ash your cigarette out the window.

“Carol and Tommy have always gone back and forth, ever since the seventh grade. They’ll be fine.” Steve shrugged.

You frowned “I don’t know, I mean with a baby in the mix…they can’t just break up and make up easy anymore. There’s too much at stake now.” You replied.

“Yeah but they’ll make it work.” You raised your eyebrow at him, watching him carefully “Tommy’s gonna take it seriously. They both will.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You crossed your arms over your chest, flicking the butt of your cigarette out the window. You both went silent for awhile, but something was eating at your mind.

“Why’d you step in today?” you asked.

“Huh?” Steve looked over at you again, more focused on the growing line of ash about to tip into his lap.

“With Carol, she was ripping me a new one and you stepped in. Why? It wasn’t your issue to deal with…” you clarified, picking at the skin around your nails.

“I mean…she was being mean and I didn’t want to listen to it.” He replied. You nodded to yourself. That answer made sense.

“I meant it, you know.” Steve added “You look really pretty.”

“Oh…” you breathed, looking down at your hands “Thanks, Steve…”

“No biggie.” He grinned. You really didn’t know what to do with yourself. He thought you were pretty. How were you supposed to react? He was Steve! Sure, you had a crush on him when you were a kid, but now? Now you barely felt like you knew him. And yet your heart was pounding in your chest. Maybe you just hadn’t gotten a good compliment in awhile.

Or maybe a part of you wanted his approval. You’d had a crush on him when you were young, he broke your heart without knowing it. Now, you were equals. Maybe that was it. Or maybe the crush never left.

Steve drove you home after that, letting Hall and Oates drift you back into your personal circle of hell. When you arrived in your driveway, you popped open your door and climbed out, leaning into his cracked window.

“Thanks for the ride, Harrington.” You said, adjusting you purse strap on your shoulder. You wondered if you looked like a hooker. You hoped not.

“No problem, thanks for coming out with me.” He replied, leaning his elbow on the inside of the door. “I’ll see you around?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll have to.” You giggled, turn on your heel and running up the driveway. You pulled open the front door, stepping into the warmth of your house, rubbing your hands together to bring the feelings back into your fingers. Carol had the fireplace going in the living room, feet propped up on the tapestry covered stool as she flipped through a copy of Glamour magazine.

She looked up when she heard the door close and she frowned when her eyes met yours. You tried to just go upstairs, but Carol snapped her fingers at you. “Hey.” You turned to look at her, not stepping down from the stairs.

“Leave Harrington alone.” She snapped, slapping her magazine closed.

“Why does it matter to you who I hang out with?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“He doesn’t like you. He’s being nice. Don’t get it twisted in your sad little head that he’d like you.” Carol replied with a smirk.

You didn’t bother to reply, simply heading upstairs and slamming your door. Of course Carol had to ruin it. You have one nice thing, one uplifting moment in an otherwise awful day, and she had to take a crap on it. She couldn’t just let you have anything. That would be too easy for her. Carol couldn’t let you have anything, what else would she do with her free time.

You knew that Carol was just bored and trying to stir shit up, but a part of your mind wouldn’t let it go. Steve didn’t like you. He was just a nice guy. You refused to let yourself get caught up in any sorts of hyper inflated one-sided romance made up in your mind.

Luckily for you, most of the wedding prep from there on didn’t involve the whole group going. In fact most of it didn’t even involve you. Your mother took over planning, dragging Tommy and Carol to bakeries and to meet the pastor who’d do the service. Tommy wanted his drunken uncle to do the service, he was a boat captain and Tommy didn’t understand that a boat captain can only perform a wedding on a boat at sea and that he was in the middle of the country.

Your mother tasked you with the all important job of making flowers to pin onto the bridesmaid dresses. She gave you enough money to buy the supplies and sent you on your way with a beleaguered sigh, turning her attention to Carol who was whining over her bowl of Captain Crunch. Apparently, she was craving pickles and salt and vinegar chips and the house was out of both.

You took yourself down to Main Street. The date of the girl’s fitting was inching closer and closer and you were more than nervous to go back in to try on dresses. You knew Carol would be on your case if the dress fit even a little bit incorrectly. Even if it was too big, she’d be pissed at you for something. It had only been a couple months, and you were certain that you hadn’t gained or lost any weight since trying on and sizing the stupid nightmare. Who wanted to wear a dress in a colour named after a fish? Salmon was not an appetizing colour. It drew the mind to dead fish sliced up on a plate.

You pushed open the door of your favourite fabric store. In a small town full of old ladies, there was a huge market for sewing stores. Yours was Sylvia’s Sewing Supplies, its owner gave you discounts and slipped you new patterns whenever you came in. You relished in the warmth of the shop. Hawkins had frozen over in November and hadn’t even gotten close to thawing out. Your favourite cashier, Marie wasn’t in, so you slipped into the aisles to find what you needed. You needed a fabric that would stand out against the salmon pink of the dress, flat topped pins, and a bit of wire to give the fabric some body. You grabbed your pins and the crafting wire, before heading to the sale section for fabric. You’d need something lightweight and clean, with no distinctive or big pattern, and little stretch. You found a thin cotton material with bit of pink sparkle and bought a yard. You’d use some leftover magenta coat buttons for the flower’s centre.

You left the shop with a grin, plastic bag swinging in your hands as you headed back towards your family’s home. You were proud to have gotten all your supplies for under the budget your mother had given you.

You’d barely made it past Melvald’s when a familiar maroon car came swerving to a stop next to you, Steve Harrington leaning out the driver’s side window. “Hey! Perkins! Where ya headed?” he asked.

You waved at him, edging closer to his car. “Oh nowhere really, I thought I might go up to King’s Street.” You said, clutching your coat around yourself.

“Whatcha buying?” he pointed to your shopping bag.

“Wedding stuff, I’ve been given a job. Woo hoo…” you pulled a painfully fake grin, using your free hand to do a bit of a jazz hand.

Steve laughed, shaking his head “Well, come on get in.” he said.

“Oh no, that’s alright Steve, I don’t mind walking.” You replied. Carol’s words rang loudly in your ear.

“Perkins, its freezing. Get in the car before you turn blue.” Steve said, leaning over to pop the passenger’s side door open. You shook your head, jogging around the car to get in, if only to escape the cold and keep from someone taking off the door. Steve drove off quickly, crossing town a bit too fast for your liking. You directed him towards Tom’s Curio shop; a sort of thrift store meets pawn shop on the edge of town, closer to Kingsville than Carmel. You liked Tom’s; it was the closest thing to a thrift store you could get in town. It had been open since Hawkins was founded and Tom still stood behind the counter every day.

You dragged Steve along with you inside, instructing him to park close to the front door. “Alright, what’re we looking for?” Steve asked as he pushed open the heavy front door.

“We are looking for something shiny to pair with my bridesmaid dress.” You replied, waving politely to Tom, who was haggling with a customer at the desk. You weaved through the racks to the back case, filled mostly with costume jewellery. The good stuff was at the front, locked away and protected by Tom’s stern gaze and the shotgun he kept behind the counter.

“Ah, I need a tie clip anyway, wonder if they’ll have anything good…” he said, following behind you up to the well lit case. The case itself was filled with a variety of plastic beads in every colour, from fake pearls to giant rainbow baubles that your grandmother used to wear. There was some rhinestone on silver plated copper pieces, most of which had their copper showing or rhinestones missing. You weren’t insanely impressed.

“What about that one?” Steve pointed at a set of sort, pale pink plastic beads.

You cringed “If I have to wear grandma beads, I’ll freak out.” You replied, eyeing down the long case. Something caught your eye. A small silver chain with a little pink flower in its centre. “Hey Tom!” you called “Can I get a hand in the case?”

“Case’s open, it’s all junk in there anyway!” Tom called back. You slipped behind the desk and slid open the glass panel. You gently pulled out the necklace, examining it in natural lighting. The silver didn’t seem to be rubbed off or chipped and while the pink flower had clearly had it details rubbed off, you liked it more because of it.

“You want me to grab a tie clip? I see one that isn’t faded or ugly.” You said, eyeing a plain silver tie clip at the end of the counter.

“Sure, I should own one anyway.” Steve said. You grabbed the clip but your arm was just a bit too short, it slipped from your fingertips. You groaned, sidling over to where it fell. You reached for it and found two clips instead of one. First was the tie clip, but the other piece was more interesting. It wasn’t another tie clip but instead a hair pin. A straight clasped pin with blue stones and a singular stone shaped like a small flower bud at its centre. It clearly wasn’t something worth any money, but it was pretty and the details were intact.

You lifted yourself off the floor and closed the glass. You handed Steve his tie clip and dusted off your jeans, the knees now white with dust and dirt. The pair of you paid for your pieces and headed into the snowstorm that Hawkins had become. He drove you home slowly, excessively careful in the changed weather. But when he turned down your street, you stopped him.

“You can drop me off here.” You pointed about eight houses down from yours. Steve was driving at a snail’s pace and you were getting antsy.

“What? No way, Perkins. The weather’s shit and the sidewalks are icy. Those little sneakers aren’t gonna do you much good in this weather.” He chuckled, nodding at your dingy white Reebok sneakers. He wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t see the inherent problems Carol was going to cause.

“Carol’s going to cause a scene if she sees us together again.” You countered, grabbing your plastic bag off the ground.

“Why does she give so much of a shit about you and me?” Steve asked, parking in your driveway.

“I don’t know, pregnancy hormones are crazy, apparently.” You sighed, popping open the door. You were barely out in the snow for a moment when your mother came rushing out the door.

“Steven!” she called “Y/N, tell that boy that it’s not safe to drive home in this. He’ll stay for dinner.”

Fighting this request would not end well. You sighed, turning your attention back into the car “Steve, my mom is insisting you stay for dinner. It’s too bad for you to drive back home, wait it out inside.”

“It’s not that bad, I’ll be alright.” Steve replied with a shrug.

You rolled your eyes, smiling softly “It’s not a request, Harrington, come one.” You turned on your heel and your smile grew as you heard the ignition turn off and Steve’s door open and shut.

“Thank you, Mrs. Perkins.” Steve said as he passed your mother by.

“It’s no trouble at all, Steven, we’re happy to have you.” She replied, shutting the door behind the three of you. Carol was again sat in the living room with the fireplace going, gorging herself on salt and vinegar chips, laid out on the couch. When she saw Steve, she sat up as fast as she could, her stomach protruding much more at five months than it ever had before.

“Steve! What’re you doing here?” she beamed, adjusting herself in her mountain of pillows.

“Oh, I found your sister stuck in the storm, I drove her home.” Steve replied, pulling off his navy blue coat and kicking off his damp sneakers. Carol’s bright smile dropped into a frown as she eyed the pair of you. The silence was thick and tense enough to slice with a knife.

“Well…I’m going to work on the flowers. I bought some nice material, I’ll make a test one for you to look over, yeah?” you said, lifting the grey opaque bag as if to prove you went shopping. Carol nodded shortly and you ran off as fast as you, abandoning Steve to her clutches.

Working on the flowers proved to be much easier than you thought. You plugged in your small sewing machine at your desk, plugging the foot peddle into the machine. You pulled in your hot glue gun as well, plugging it in. Then, you drew out your petal shape. You decided to have a five petal flower and to make the shape similar to a heart, with a rounded cupid’s bow at the top of the petal and a bit of a point at the end. Then you cut your fabric into five even strips, folding the fabric over, and setting the excess aside. You used your fabric chalk to copy the image onto the fabric five times. You cut out your hearts and set them aside. Then, you used a pair of wire cutters to break off five pieces of similar lengths. You hot glued each piece of wire onto five of your ten hearts and loaded in your thread as they dried. You placed two hearts back to back and sewed around the edges and turned them inside out. Then you hot glued the other half of the heart to the wire. Repeat four times, the wind the wires together in a circle, hot glue the flower to the pin and glue the button to its centre. Bam. A flower. It looked alright too.

With a proud grin, you bounded down the stairs. Steve and Carol were sat in awkward silence, which you easily broke. “Alright, Carol this is the first one. What’d think of the fabric and design?” you handed her the pin “I tried to make the petals look like hearts, to sort of fit the theme-”

“They’re fine. They’re just to add something to the waistband. You don’t have to think so hard about it.” She cut in, handing you back the flower. In an instant, you were defeated by Carol.

“Alright then…” you muttered. You went to leave, but Steve’s voice caused you to stop in your tracks.

“Think I can give you a hand?” he asked, hopping to his feet.

“Oh…I’m alright, keep Carol company, I’m sure she enjoys it.” You said quickly.

“I’m fine, go ahead Steve, I’m sure Y/N can put you to some kind of work.” She drawled, watching you with a sneer.

You sighed, bounding up the steps. Steve followed close behind. You kicked open your door, pushing a pile of notebooks to the side as you let him into your room. “Alright, sit there and cut out petals. I’ll do the rest.” You pointed to your bed, then pulled out your own desk chair and flicked off the light above your needle.

“Alright,” he rubbed his palms together and looking over the pile. “What am I going here?”

You leaned over to him in your chair “Alright take your pattern, pick a place on the fabric,” you pointed to the white chalk “Draw the pattern out on the fabric, then cut it out.”

“Alright, I got this.” He said. You nodded turning back to your machine as a small pile of hearts began to grow. You made steady, silent progress, until Steve broke it.

“Why do you let her push you around like that?” Steve asked.

“What do you mean?” you replied, not looking up from your machine.

“You were clearly proud of the pin and she dismissed it. Why couldn’t she say it was nice?” Steve asked.

You chuckled “God, you’re such an only child…” you mutter, gluing your wire onto your first heart and sewing pieces together. “That’s how older sisters are. They all wanted to be only children and then some baby brat came along and stole all the attention. She’s disliked me from the day I was born.”

“And she can’t be nice for five minutes?” Steve countered with a matching chuckle.

“Like I said, blame the hormones. Usually, she’d just ignore me. Now, she needs me to make stupid little flowers for her wedding.” You replied, flipping out your first heart and gluing it shut.

The pair of you made five pins in about an hour, laughing and talking all the while. Steve was a nice guy. You had a lot in common, mostly in your annoyance with your peers. Steve was much more normal than you remembered, much more relaxed and easygoing than the hyper kid who ran circles around you and his friends on the playground. He was a bit of a grown man now. Maturity looked good on him.

Your mother fed the family and Steve was gone quickly, the snow settling fast. Just as quickly as Steve left your house, January passed you by. You spent the month in full wedding mode. You and your mother were high strung. It didn’t help that Carol was rounding seven months pregnant and a nightmare to be around. You spent your free time hiding in your room.

By the time the date came around, you were more than happy to be over everything wedding based. You didn’t care if Carol was marrying a man child and she was pregnant with the next spawn of Satan, you just wanted everything to be done. The dresses fit, the ties matched and were clipped, the wedding dress fitted to Carol’s massive stomach, the caterer’s had the food ready and the cake was iced and cooled. All that was left was to marry them off.

The morning of February 14th, 1987 was one of pure chaos. Tina and Macy had slept over with Carol, although you weren’t into to their bridal pampering. Carol was flashing around her bridal box, full of everything she needed. She was more than ready to be married. You all headed to Marie’s Beauty Parlour to have your hair done at eleven o’clock that morning, yours and Tommy’s mother giddy to be getting rid of their children. Your mother had bought the mustard velour nightmare for herself to wear. She had her hair curled in ringlets and pinned away from her face. You and the other bridesmaid’s were put into tight, poufy bouffant hairstyles. Carol’s being the highest and poufiest of them all. Then, you all waited around while Carol had her makeup professionally done. The rest of you would have to do your own makeup, which you were happy with when you saw the outcome of Carol’s.

The group dressed and did their makeup back at your house, trying to match each other’s makeup. Macy and Tina were deadlocked in attempts to outdo each other. You finished yours first, not worried about overpowering their makeup. You slid into you salmon dress and, at the nagging of your mother, pulled on a pair of pantyhose before putting on your matching wedding shoes. You pinned your little flower pin on your right side and clasped on your necklace, jabbing a pair of tiny silver hoops into your earlobes.

A scream from Carol pulled everyone’s attention to her. She was found crying on the floor in her white wedding lingerie, screaming up at your mother “Where is it?!?”

“What’s wrong, ma?” you asked, stepping through the small crowd and touching your mother’s shoulder.

“Great-grandma Petra’s wedding tiara!” Carol moaned. You looked to your mother with a confused expression. You’d never met your great grandmother. She died before you were born.

“I told you, honey, she was buried with it. I don’t have it.” Your mother said, pulling your sister off the floor “Your mascara is running, honey, you have to stop crying.”

“But now I don’t have anything old and blue!” she cried, letting her mother put her into the stool at her vanity.

“We’ll find you something, let me look through my jewellery box, I’m sure I can fine something-” your mother tried.

“I’m already borrowing your pearls, I can’t get any more luck from you.” She sobbed, her breathing getting ragged. She was going to hyperventilate if someone didn’t do something. You ran to your room, grabbing the blue hair pin off your desk. You had intended on wearing it in your own hair, but the bride needed to be appeased and the conversation needed to be over. You brought the pin into your mother’s room.

“Here,” you held out the pin to Carol “I bought it for myself, but you can wear it. It’s vintage, so it’s old, and it’s blue.” Carol took the pin cautiously, examining it with watery eyes.

Her whole face broke into a wide smile “It’s perfect, Y/N, thank you!” she held out her arms, pulled you into a tight hug. You let her hug you like she meant it. Maybe she did. You weren’t going to forgive her for everything because she was nice to you once. Giving her your pin was just what got you all to the wedding.

The ceremony started on time, which was a shock to you. Stood outside the church, Tina and Macy fussed over Carol veil, which was attempting to blow away in the icy wind. You heard the music start and, on cue, Mason and Kenny opened the doors, Steve and Tommy waiting at the altar. You gripped your roses tightly, making your brisk walk up to the altar. Steve was watching you far too intensely for your liking. You lowered your gaze and made your way to the front. He was too handsome to look at anyway.

The vows went fast, the ceremony was kept short. Everyone at the wedding knew it was a shotgun wedding before they even arrived and nobody really took it seriously. The applause was polite as Tommy and Carol headed to back down the aisle to their getaway car. Steve sidled up to you as you headed down the aisle out of the church.

“You wanna get out of here? We’ve got like an hour to kill for the happy couple to take photos.” He asked, grabbing the crook of your arm and looping his through it.

“Sure…” you muttered. You made it outside, trading your bouquet for your winter coat and following Steve over to his car. You drove out to his house, because it was closer than yours and neither of you wanted to join the festivities there anyway.

“You look…really beautiful, by the way.” He said as he pulled into his driveway.

“Thank you…” you replied shyly, not meeting his eyes “You look really handsome.”

“Thank you…” Steve smiled. He led you to the front of his house and let you into the empty, dark house. You’d never been to Steve’s house, much less without anyone there besides you two. You kicked off your heels, relishing the comfort of being flat on the ground again. Steve’s hands came to your waist and spun you to him carefully.

“Steve, what’re you doing?” you whispered. Something about the scene made you feel like you were sneaking around. Maybe you were. Somewhere in your mind Carol was still watching, hinting, assuming the worst of you. She already thought you were a slut for even hanging out with Steve.

“Well…I was going to kiss the prettiest bridesmaid…” he grinned, leaning down to you.

You pulled back “Why?” you asked, placing your hands on his chest to push him away.

Steve’s hands fell away. He looked at you closely, and then let out a sigh. “Because…I’m crazy about you, Y/N, I can’t stop thinking about you. I thought, well I figured, you felt the same but if I’m wrong I mean tell me now-”

“No! I mean I don’t know…Carol already thinks I’m a slut I don’t want to add to it, I mean if she found out about this…” you replied quickly.

“Y/N,” Steve reached for your arm, pulling you a bit closer. “Can’t you see that she’s just jealous of you? You don’t have to plan your life around her.”

You looked at him sceptically. He didn’t know Carol the way you did. He didn’t live with her. “Steve, it’s never been that simple. You can’t just say that she’s jealous or crazy and move on.” You scoffed.

“Y/N, what are you afraid of?” Steve grabbed your hand.

“I…I’m afraid that…she’s right. That I’ll never be as good as her or as liked as her. I’m afraid that you only like me because of her. That you’ll move on the second you get bored or that this is some elaborate game you and your friends are playing. Like when we were kids and you would play those awful pranks on me.” You explained, looking away from Steve. You felt ashamed of your emotions, of feeling small and useless, like the child you were so certain you’d grown out of being.

Steve swallowed, stepping back again, looking you over with a worried expression. “You are…so different from your sister. And that’s the best thing about you. Carol is Carol, but you? You’re indescribable. You’re so amazing, it kills me. And I would never treat you like the way we used to. We were kids, and I’m so sorry we hurt you. But I would never treat you like that again.”

You inched closer, watching his expression curiously. He looked almost hurt by your words. You didn’t regret them though; you needed to say them to be understood.

“I know that, Steve, I just” you let out a heavy, thick sigh “I’ve always been scared of everything, you included.”

Steve’s face broke into a small smile “You don’t ever have to be afraid of me.” He murmured, his hands coming carefully to your cheeks, running his knuckles up and down your cheek. His lips came gently down to yours. This time, you didn’t pull away. You didn’t want to. Fuck Carol, fuck her stupid ideas on who you were and her damn ugly wedding to a massive idiot. You were allowed your happiness. You were allowed to have Steve. And he’s exactly what you want.

217 notes · View notes

meowdymista · 4 years

Text

iv. i am

Part of the Devil’s Backbone project - Masterlist

Notes: includes Arthur x Abigail smut tehe

“Shove it, Ma.”

“Jack!”

“Boah.” Arthur juts his chin to the door, setting his napkin on the table. “Walk with me.”

“No!”

“It wasn’t an invitation, Jack.” His growl is ominous.

The boy gasps as he is pulled to his feet. “Let go, Arthur!”

“Tha’s Uncle Arthur to you. Outside.”

“Arthur-!”

“We’ll be right back, Abigail.” His eyes are sparkling dangerously, his tone forced polite. “Just gonna take a minute to cool off.”

“That boy’s gonna get what’s comin’ to him!” giggles Uncle.

“Shoot!” Abigail jumps to her feet, following them to the door. “Arthur!”

“We’ll only be a minute.” He looks back at her, eyes honest. She swallows, unable to speak as the front door closes and the footsteps move over the porch.

She rushes to the window in the boy’s room, keeping out of sight.

“What’s come over you?” The familiar growl is still as husky as ever.

“Leave me alone!”

“Alrigh’ lemme ask you again. What’s come over you, boah?”

“You’re not my father, Arthur! Why are you even here?”

“Is that it? Is that’s what’s botherin’ yer?”

“Nothin’ has to be botherin’ me! You just need to get lost!”

A dark chuckle reverberates through the glass. “Jack Marston. I am going to say this once, and I’m going to say it clearly so even your dumb pa could understand it - Never. Speak. To your mother. Like that. Again.”

“Or what?”

Abigail presses her hands over her eyes. She could almost hear the creak of skin pulling over Arthur’s knuckles. Don’t hit my son, Morgan! Do not hit my son!

When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, calmer, and all the more frightening. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

The silence is shaky and drawn out. “No, sir,” he eventually gasps.

Arthur claps his shoulder firmly, demonstrating a small portion of his true strength. “I’m glad,” he smiles, eyes tight. “Now how about we go inside and try to be civil.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Uncle stifles a chuckle as she throws herself back in her seat, flattening her hair. The men walk back inside.

“Jack has something he would like to say to you, Abigail.”

He’s shaking, but Arthur’s stature is calm and relaxed.

“I’m sorry, Ma. It won’t happen again.”

“Good lad,” murmurs Arthur, patting him on the back, letting him know he’s free.

“Apology accepted.” Abigail forces a smile as the boy rejoins the table. She looks at the man, but he’s tearing himself a chunk of bread and eating like he’s been starved.

“So, Arthur,” says Uncle casually. “There’s rumours of some cows being moved from McFarlene’s to Strawberry for auction. Fancy some hustlin’?”

He tips the bowl into his mouth, wiping his face as he sets it back down. “Why? Do you?”

“I would love to, but this darn lumbago...”

“Ah, yes, the lumbago.” Arthur meets Abigail’s gaze and winks, making her laugh. “Think it’s best we keep from robbing the neighbours anyway.”

“I’m sure you could do it just fine!”

He stretches loudly, his lungs rasping as they have done for years. “Nah, I reckon we should sit this one out.”

“The McFarlene’s take real good care of their livestock-”

“Then maybe we should be lookin’ at buyin’.” He moves his plate out of Abigail’s reach with a shake of his head. “Y’all done there? Jack?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He piles the crockery on top of his own and moves towards the kitchen.

“Arthur! I can do that! You’ve been workin’ all day-!”

“So’ve you, Miss Roberts.”

She sighs, defeated, looking at her son. “Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, too embarrassed to scowl or look up. “I’m gonna call it a night.”

“OK.” Abigail watches him leave, biting her lip to keep her sigh inside.

Uncle yawns loudly. “Think the boy’s got a good plan for the evening. G’night, Miss Roberts. Mr Morgan.”

She wrestles to keep her eyes from rolling, settling on collecting the napkins for wash and the last of the cups he had missed.

In the kitchen, Arthur is already washing up, singing to himself quietly. The cups clack together as Abigail sets them on the counter, drawing his attention.

“Hey, you ok?”

“Yeah. I just… I don’t know what’s got into him of late. He’s so moody.”

He chuckles, drying his hands on the towel before opening his arms out. “C’mere.” She accepts the invitation, feeling herself relax as he pulls her into a firm hug. “He’s jus’ going through them changes. He’ll come out a man soon enough.”

“I don’t want a man, I want my little boy back.”

He chuckles, squeezing her tighter, cheek pressed against her head. “I’m sure you do. He’s growin’ up real fast.”

“Too fast,” she moans, laughing despite herself. She takes a step back to look at him. “Make it stop!”

He chuckles, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. “You know I can’t do that. All’s left to do is try to raise him up better than we was.”

“Hosea and Dutch did an alright job on you,” she smiles.

He chuckles again, dropping her hand to lean back on the counter. “Sure, if you want another outlaw.” Their gazes meet and Arthur holds it until she looks away, embarrassed. “You need to talk?”

She looks up unwillingly. His arms are spread again, his rugged face open with understanding and years of friendship. “Somethin’ like that;” She forces a laugh, folding her arms, keeping herself to the other side of the room.

Arthur walks over to wrap his arm around her shoulders, his blue eyes cutting with concern. He waits, not wanting to pressure her into confessing something she isn’t ready to, but the heat of his body is driving her crazy.

When she looks up, there is a flicker of surprise before their lips are smashed together. He begins to pull her in, kissing her deeply as she hurries to unfasten the buttons.

“Abigail,” he manages to gasp, pulling her hands from his shirt by her wrists. “Jack? Uncle?”

“They’ve gone to bed.” She tries to step forward, but he resists, still frowning. “Please, Arthur?”

He sighs, trying to find the words. “You sure? About this?” His forehead furrows deeper. “I don’t want- I don’t want to mess this up.” She stops struggling and begins to pull away. “Don’t get me wrong, Abigail, I want you. I want you like that, but-”

“Then stop talkin’!” She stares him out, waiting. Eventually his grip loosens, and she pulls herself closer, pushing herself onto her toes so she can kiss him.

He responds slowly at first, but then the hunger takes a hold of him too. As they pull apart to catch their breath, he hoists her up onto the cupboards, pulling her body against his, his hands pulling at her hips and legs. She throws her head back, gasping as he sucks on her shoulder, rubbing himself between her skirts. She forces her hands between their bodies and starts pulling at the rest of his buttons of his shirt, making him moan as her fingers pull through his chest hair.

He picks her up and turns on the spot, moving plates of meat and bundles of vegetables off the table to lie her on it. He pulls it out a little so he can stand between her knees, still kissing every bit of skin his mouth can reach. She pulls at her undergarments with one hand and trying to undo his buckle with the other, but a hand catches her wrist again, pinning it over her head.

A groan slips from her throat as his face burrows it’s way down into her chest, his free hand playing on the inside of her thighs. She can feel herself quivering and tries to move her hips to meet his palm, but he moves it away teasingly.

When his fingers begin to play at her entrance, he lifts his head to watch her reaction. The corner of his mouth tucks up into his cheek, as he feels himself growing harder. Unable to torture her further, he pushes in one finger, then two, and then pushes up to his knuckles. He kisses the hills of her breasts as her back arches. He lets her wrists slip free from his grip and doesn’t fight her when she pulls at his trousers.

“You sure?” he growls, moving his tip over the slippy labia, his thumb playing with her clit.

“Yes!”

He pushes his way inside with one fluid movement. His hands grip her hips and pull her closer to the edge of the table, slowly moving his hips to thrust into her. He smiles, leaning in to kiss her, when he freezes, eyes wide.

“What?” Abigail turns her head and immediately swears under her breath. Arthur pulls out, turning around to stuff himself back into his trousers. Uncle passes the doorway, muttering to himself about a bottle of whiskey he must have left in the stable earlier.

When the latch clicks shut, they look at each other.

“My bedroom?” Abigail suggests. “Before he comes back?”

Arthur nods, unable to speak as they grab any loose garments and flit over the hallway.

“I shoulda put a lock on this door.” Arthur tugs the wardrobe so it overlaps the doorframe. “There. No peeking Uncles.” He turns around and pulls Abigail against him. “Where were we?”

She giggles, her stomach fluttering as he lifts her up to kiss her. Her legs wrap around his waist, her fingers pulling through his hair and over his neck and shoulders as he crawls onto the bed and lowers her down gently. He laughs, kicking off his boots as Abigail wriggles out of her skirts, revealing herself fully.

He whistles under his breath. “You ain’t changed a bit.”

“Shut up!”

“I mean it - you look…” He shakes his head, pulling his body free from his union suit. She sits up and pulls him down by the back of his neck, kissing him hard. He moans into her mouth, moving forward to hover over her, his member bumping clumsily against her pelvis. She reaches down and gives him the slightest of nudges, and immediately he’s back inside gasping against her shoulder as he begins to thrust.

Abigail chews her lip to stop the whimpers leaking out. Arthur is grasping at her flesh, guiding her hips, lifting her knees higher up his waist as he begins to plunge deeper. Her head tilts back, a great moan of satisfaction about to reverberate out of her, but a hand clasps over her mouth.

The latch catches again, followed by Uncle’s mumblings, as they still themselves, holding their breath. They listen to him walking back to the living room where he had set out his bedroll for the night.

Blue fixes on blue green as they resume carefully grinding their bodies together, trying to resist the urgency calling them both.

Arthur kisses her neck, and her teeth bite into his thumb in an effort to remain silent. The grinds begin to hasten as she feels herself growing closer to climax.

“C’mon girl,” he murmurs, his nose gliding over her collarbones. “C’mon, let me feel you.”

Her fingers rake over his shoulder blades, the air catching in her throat. Arthur’s low groan is guttural. “Yes, c’mon. Keep squeezin’ - ohh, there you go.”

Abigail pulls a pillow over her face to stifle the scream as Arthur continues to pound into her. Her hands spread and pull at the bed sheets as she pulses with pleasure, and it’s not long before she can feel him stiffening into an almost vibrating quiver.

He pulls out, grunting as his hand finishes the job, raining thick heat over her stomach. His shoulders sag, a wave of relief rushing out any last drop of urgency as the sheen of sweat beads down his neck. Abigail lies still, her bosom still rising and falling as she fights to catch her breath.

“Thank you, Arthur.”

He chuckles, patting her leg sleepily as he moves across the room to bring her a damp cloth. “Any time,” he rasps as he wipes himself from her skin. “Feel better?”

“Much. You?”

“Mmhm.” Dropping the cloth on the nightstand, he lies down beside her and pulls her into his chest. A hand drifts down her side as he kisses her forehead gently. “You’ve still got it, Miss Roberts. Whatever it is, you still got it.”

***

Abigail wakes up to an empty bed. The bed sheets brush over her naked body, confirming last night was not a dream. She forces herself to swallow any hurt, calmly reminding herself that she doesn’t need her son finding her in bed with a man that is not his father, when the door creaks open.

“Mornin’.” Arthur sets a tray on the bedside table, flicking his damp hair out of his eyes as he helps her sit up. “Sleep alright?”

“Sure.” She can’t help but smile at the cup, and he follows her gaze.

“I know how much you like your mornin’ coffee,” he explains. “Plus I felt breakfast wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Thank you!”

“Nah, don’t mention it.” He pats her leg and walks back out of the room. “The bath is waitin’ for you when you want it. I’m gonna go give Jack his breakfast to keep him busy if you wanna sneak over?”

#red dead fic #red dead fanfic #rdr2 fic #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #jack marston #abigail Roberts #arthur morgan x abigail roberts #meowdymista

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