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keysmashingfantasies · 4 years ago

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Bloody Comfort

pre borderlands!Niragi x fem!reader / Niragi x fem!reader

A/N: i feel like i only post Marvel on this blog and i missed my show so here it is, finally an AiB fic! :D also, minigame: how many alice in wonderland references can you spot? also also, bloody comfort is an awesome name for a band and if you do name your band that, i want my money. enjoy the fic! also also also i didn’t proofread SHIT so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

trigger warning: bullying, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic, i think but beware nonetheless), death (graphic. i mean, i’m not that good of a writer but still, beware), very slight mentions of nsfw, especially torwards the end, niragi (HE’S A WARNING OK), niragi having disturbing thoughts (what else is new. but fr, ok), sliiiiiight yandere niragi torwards the end. (also I tried not to describe in too much detail the bullying that niragi and the reader suffer in the fic so it wouldn’t be too sad).

@dreamingofanisland here it is bestie!

Niragi couldn’t pinpoint when he stopped being sad and when he started getting angry. From a suffocating hopelessness came a desperation he could only describe as feral. He often fantasized about just jumping over his desk and strangling each one of them to death but his thoughts quickly ended with Niragi envisioning himself being overpowered and beaten. He started to not only get angry at his bullies, but people in general. Things. Life.

How could so many people turn a blind eye? How could life be so unfair to give people like this the upperhand and not him? Not him that clearly deserved it? This world was backwards.

He knew he was fucked when he saw the bat, and although he braced for the impact he couldn’t help but fall to his knees and wince at the sickening sound that the baseball did in contact with his nose.

He just sat there and while all he wanted to do was to rip their throats with his teeth all he did was to endure a few more punches before they left with a promise that there would be more. He sat there trying not to cry with sheer frustration. His papers were scattered around, the left arm of his glasses was broken and his pristine black outfit was now covered in dust from the gravel, his hands scratched. He could taste blood on his tongue and he felt a sick satisfaction, pretending for one moment that it was another person’s blood he was tasting.

“Do you need help?”, a voice woke him from his violent daydreams. Suddenly everything boiled over and he felt an overwhelming anger rise inside of him. In a blink of an eye he was standing up, yelling at a somewhat blurry image of a girl who he towered over, even more as she shrunk under his anger. If he wouldn’t be so busy screaming profanities, he would be madly aroused.

“WHAT, HUH? CAME TO SEE THE SHOW? TO LAUGH AT ME?”, he was furious, and as he approached her, she proceeded to walk back.

“No. I just wanted to help”, she said. It seemed another flash and suddenly he could see a bit clearer. Although startled, she didn’t seem afraid of him, and was extending him a tissue. “Your nose is bleeding”, she said, and Niragi wanted to scoff at her for stating the obvious. But she was being kind. And as angry as he was, kindness wasn’t something that he could say no to. He tried his best to control his shaky hands as he took the tissue from her hands and carefully dabbed his nose, as she ducked to collect his papers, and tuck them back into his bag.

“Saw what they did to you. ‘m sorry”, she mumbled. Niragi wanted to strangle her out of sheer embarrassment.

“And you just took some popcorn and enjoyed the spectacle?”, he spat.

“I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. Would you rather if I had called someone?”, she asked. He breathed once, twice. She wasn’t mocking him, but was unnervingly calm. Something about her being calm while he was practically foaming at the mouth had him seeing red and suddenly he regret having wiped the blood off of his lips.

“No”, he said, calmly. “No, I wouldn’t. Sorry. I have to go”, he said, ripping his bag from her hands with such force that he tugged her arm with it.

“Wait! I mean what I said! I want to help!”

“You, help me? What are you going to do, huh? Be my bodyguard?”, he mocked her one more time. He couldn’t help himself, his brain got used to this. Fight or flight. His adrenaline was pumping and everytime he was around school grounds he looked over his shoulder.

“Hmmm, sorta? Not exactly but I could show you a place. A safe place”, she said. He just looked at her.

“If we get there and it’s a prank of some sort I’ll let you punch me. Square in the face”, she said.

“Are you insane? You just go around letting people punch you in the face?”, his mouth was quicker than his brains and suddenly he felt his face grow hot at the irony of what he had said. But if she noticed it, she didn’t mention.

“Let me help you”, she said.

And he did.

He followed her through a wooded area near the school grounds after walking through a hole in a fence.

He was getting ready to beat you to the punch and hit you so hard that you’d bleed as hard as he did, until you stopped until you reached a very underwhelming toolshed with a padlock.

“We’re here”, you said, and he realized that she sounded different. All this time she was on edge. ‘Of course, Suguru, you threatened the girl like, 3 times’, said the voice in the back of his head. She pulled a key from her bag and the padlock opened easily and they heavy chains fell to the ground and she pushed open the door, going inside. He hesitantly followed.

The inside is nothing as he thought it would be. For starters, it was surprisingly clean and it didn’t smell bad. And instead of tools and brooms and leafblowers, it had bean bags, blankets, a table with a radio full of knickknacks in the corner and a chair that had clearly seen better days but looked comfortable none the less. The girl walked to a corner of the room and his eyes followed her as she closed the door, which had small sharpie drawings on it. She reached for a white box and settled it on the floor between the two bean bags, and reached inside a very small thermos to pull out an artificially blue isotonic drink and settled it down too. Then from the plastic bag he previously assumed was trash, she pulled a bag of chips.

She then patted the bean bag next to hers. “Welcome to my clinic”, she said, placing the white box on her lap.

After an entire afternoon of bonding over unhealthy food and an impromptu first aid rescue, Niragi learned that her name was Y/N, she was a year below and that this little world she created was her refuge from the girls in her class that picked on her.

“I found this and decided that it would be nice. No one’s using it, it’s far from everything. It’s on the Beheaded Woman’s territory”.

Niragi heard the rumors through his bullies. “One day we’ll drag you to the Beheaded Woman’s woods and fucking kill you”. After further investigation, he learned that allegedly a girl was dragged through the woods and beheaded with a blunt axe.

“I made the rumors up. I had to make sure no one would find my safe haven”, she explained. “And once you write something in the girls’ bathroom stall, there’s no turning back. It’s out there and it’s truth”, she sighed. “I would know”.

He wasn’t the most up to date in all the gossip but she told him her story. The rumors they spread, the things they did to her. She almost seemed amused. He in turn told her his story. By the end of it, he could kill someone. She then offered him the other key to her safe haven.

“You can decorate it too. Don’t tell anyone else and make sure to lock it after you use it. Use it as much as you want, just make sure they don’t follow you, okay?”

He took the keys with shakey hands, a knot on his throat. Another type of adrenaline was pumping through his veins. When a few moments ago there were a fast white heat, coursing through him like an electric current, this was slow and almost overwhelmingly warm, like molten lava.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me?”, he whispered as if it was a secret, as if this moment was another fantasy, a deer that’s easily spooked. He had fantasized about this too. A safe haven, an ally. A friend.

“Because we’re the same, you and I”.

You hated him. You hated him with a burning passion. What was at first an act of pity, born from the empathy you felt by seeing someone go through what you did, quickly became a friendship and like a disease, it spread to beyond your safe haven. You would spend your free time together, walk home together. You became friends. And what did he do? Exactly what he told you he would.

“Sometimes don’t you wish to disappear?”, he whispered to you once.

“Yeah. Like, run away? Yeah, I do”, you replied agreeing with him.

‘You’re the only one that understands me. We really are the same’, he would say. What at the beginning of your budding crush on him gave you butterflies on the stomach now made you want to throw up.

You lost your only friend. You despised the sound of music now, because every single song you heard, you shared with him. For the same reason, you didn’t enjoy your favorite movies anymore. Your bullies banded together to target you. And the worst part of all, is that you couldn’t even care. There was no silver lining anymore.

“Don’t you get furious?! Don’t you want to hurt them, make them pay?”, he said as he watched you apply concealer to a bruised cheek.

“I mean, I get angry but I try my best to not let it get to me. It’s what they want. I despise those people, I can’t get in a funk because of them”, you said nonchalantly.

But you had loved him. And now you felt like even moving around was an herculean task, like you were almost dead trying to get to safety. But there was no safety anymore.

Ironically, you started to understand him more and more after he disappeared. The anger, the hatred. How could anyone just follow their lives? When there’s people like you just suffering through yours?

Suguru Niragi was an illness, a parasite. He carved his way under your skin and into your heart, laid eggs of his hate on your veins and sucked you dry of your life’s essence. Then, after you were a shell of a human, he disappeared out of thin air, leaving you alone. Leaving you with those people. Leaving you to die.

And you were still in love with him.

You thought you were finally insane when it happened.

The streets were empty. Absolutely no one. You wondered for a moment if you felt so alone that your mind convinced itself that that’s exactly what had happened, if any moment now you would be locked in an insane asylum for running around and screaming until you throat got raw.

It took you two games to understand what was going on. You made sure to change clothes. Running shoes, leggings and a warm hoodie that you never let the hood down. You decided to significantly shorten your hair after you saw a man pull a young girl by the ponytail in a spades game. You loaded a backpack with food and bottles of water, anything you could find. And an axe that you took from an emergency box from the building you slept in.

It was on your 5th game that it happened. You saw people die in these games, but none of it was hands on for you. You just watched your back and hoped to win and let whoever was running this show take care of the rest. Honestly, you didn’t even wait to know if anyone even survived. You were done doing that.

When you got there, there were five people already. They banded together and whispered amongst themselves as you passed them by and grabbed a phone. Probably just a group of friends that got stranded at the same time and decided to stay together. You clutched you axe harder.

You didn’t even realize that you had zoned out until you heard hollering and four guys heavily armed walked you by. Where the fuck did they get guns? One of them let out a boisterous laugh that reminded you of someone that you wanted desperately to forget. You couldn’t even get over him during fucking Saw? That sound made your skin crawl.

Registration closed, said the mechanic voice. Difficulty: 8 of clubs. The first 5 players will be the first team and the last 5 players will be the second. One team must eliminate the others without losing any players. Both teams will be identified by the color of your screen, and will have one minute to hide.

You saw the armed guys’ screens light up red. You sighed in relief as yours did too. You made sure to keep your head down and thank whoever that not killing teammates was a part of the rules. They seemed amused and absolutely calm, and the guy with the rifle laughed again. You were shaking by now.

When the minute started, everyone bolted in different directions. You didn’t even look back to see if your teammates had accompanied you but by the sound of your footsteps crushing leaves, you were alone. You decided to go back after a while, looking around. A lamppost. Huh, lamppost it is. You leaned against the cool metal and focused on the silence. The minute had ended but they were still hunting. You didn’t come across anyone, which was good. After a while, all you could hear were distant gunshots.

You looked to the floor, only to see a shadow approaching you quick. You barely had time to dodge before a man hit you behind the head with a rock. You reacting made him lose his balance, falling to the floor and letting go of the rock. You looked at him. It was one of the boys from the other team. He had on a white button up blouse and a black hoodie. His hair had fallen over his brown eyes and he looked so scared and so alone.

This will have to do.

You didn’t stop, suddenly lifting the axe and bringing it down was like an automatic thing.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME? AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ABANDONED ME IN A MINUTE, LEFT ME ALONE IN THAT HELL!”

You didn’t stop when he started praying and then screaming. You didn’t stop when he started bleeding profusely or when the strength of your movements made your hood slide down from your head. You didn’t stop when his head got detached from his body and if you weren’t so angry, you would’ve listened tfootsteps. You didn’t stop until you had made mincemeat out of his face. Just for the sheer audacity of reminding you of him.

He looked at you from afar while you looked at the body of the boy whose skull you just had destroyed, a maniac, victorious smile on your face. You were pretending the boy was him. You really thought he had abandoned you? He would be absolutely heartbroken if he wasn’t so aroused. That’s what he always wanted to see, the instincts that you tried to push down. You were right, you were both the same. He wanted to lick that blood off of you, use it as lube to take you right there. When he first arrived at the Borderlands, when he first killed someone and liked it, he thought you would be disgusted by him. But look at you now. You were here, perfect for him, soaked in blood, feral. He’s never been so hard.

“Y/N”, he said.

“Niragi?,” you said. He ran to you, held you even when you fought back, even when you screamed bloody murder that you were going insane, begging to die already, even when you passed out on his arms. He licked a drop of blood from your neck.

“Let me take you to our safe haven”, he whispered against your skin.

#niragi loving hours in this mf house #niragi x reader #niragi fic #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #niragi imagine #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland fic #niragi suguru x reader #suguru niragi x reader

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maxineswritingcenter · 4 years ago

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You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 15

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Derek and I had taken off after the Kanima on foot. Stiles and Scott followed in his Jeep. We made it to an abandoned parking lot, halting a moment.

“You stay behind and wait for Scott, I’ll follow the scent this way.” He took off over the fence as Stiles and Scott pulled up. Scott got out, and jumped over the fence. I followed behind him down the tunnel.

“Okay! I’ll be here!” I heard Stiles yelled. I caught up to Scott, and we both ran in the direction of hissing and growling.

“Where’s-” He came to a halt and froze. I skidded to a stop as well. Gerard Argent stood there, almost like he had been waiting. Well, there goes my alibi of not being a werewolf, but odds are he already knows. We took off in the opposite direction, eventually finding a boiler room below a nightclub.

“Why the hell is Gerard here?” I panted.

He shook his head, “I have no idea.”

“What do we do now?” We turned around and yelped. Stiles was standing behind us.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologized, “Did you see where he went?”

“We lost him.” Scott panted, resting his head against the red brick wall.

“What? You can’t catch his scent?”

“I don’t think he has one.”

I leaned against the wall, “That’s how he gets the jump on us, we can’t smell him coming like any other werewolf.”

“Alright, any clue where he’s going?”

“To kill someone.” Scott narrowed his eyes at Stiles.

“ Ah. That explains the claws, and the fangs, and all that. Good. Makes perfect sense now. “ Stiles’ voice dripped with sarcasm. Scott continued to stare.

“What? Scott, come on. I'm one hundred and forty-seven pounds of pale skin and fragile bone- sarcasm is my only defense!”

I looked him up and down, “You’re only a hundred and forty-seven pounds? We gotta bulk you up for the finals, you’re gonna get killed out there.”

“Not the time for lacrosse advice, (Y/N).”

“Yup, got it.”

“Just help me find it.” Scott said, getting frustrated with our back and forth.

“Not “it”. Jackson.” Stiles corrected.

“Yeah, I know. I-I know.” Scott looked around the corner.

“All right, but does he know that? Did anybody else see him back at your house?” Stiles asked.

“Everyone who knew saw. Lydia missed it though.” I said, trying to hear anything.

“I mean, I don't think so, but he already passed Derek's test anyway.”

“Right, because that test was so accurate.” I smirked.

“But that's just the thing, how did he pass the test?” Stiles asked.

"I don't know." Scott said his favorite sentence. But the fact of the matter is, there were no answers for anything.

“Maybe it's like an either-or thing? I mean, Derek said that a snake can't be poisoned by its own venom, right? When is the Kanima not the Kanima?”

“...When it’s Jackson.” Scott and I said in unison. Stiles’ eyes went wide and his mouth was pressed firmly shut. I followed his gaze and gasped, quickly covering my mouth. Scott followed our gaze, seeing the slimy green tail of the kanima disappear into the attic of the club.

“He’s inside.” Scott said, staring up.

“What's he gonna do in there?” Stiles asked, peaking around my shoulder.

“Well, I don’t think he’s looking for a date.” I said, staring at where the kanima went inside.

"I know who he's after." Scott stared at the window.

"What? How? Did you smell something?" Stiles asked, staring at Scott.

"Armani." Scott stated. We moved around the corner and looked inside the window of the building. The origin of the Armani just happened to be Danny. He was walking towards the entrance of the club, named Jungle.

“Well... At least he’s getting out.” The corner of my mouth twitched up. We walked around to the other side of the club to the back door. Stiles attempted to open the back door, but alas it was locked.

“Ah come on.” Stiles groaned, backing away from the door and looking up, “ Alright, maybe there's, like, a uh-like, a window we could climb through, or some kind of-” Stiles was cut off by Scott ripping the handle off the door and handing it to Stiles.

“...Handle that we could rip off with supernatural strength? How'd I not think of that one?” He threw the handle over his shoulder. Why was this place familiar? We all walked into the club. As we got into the actual club, we stopped. The loud music and lights reminded me of a party from high school. There were four disco balls on the ceiling surrounding one large one in the middle of the room. Beams of colored light were bouncing off the sweaty club goers. There were aerial silk dancers throughout the room, there were also shirtless men dancing on tables. That’s why I recognized the name.

“Dude, everyone in here is a dude! I think we're in a gay club... “ Scott said, astutely observing his surroundings.” We turned back, looking at Stiles who was flocked by two drag queens.

“Man, nothing gets past those keen Werewolf senses, huh, Scott?” Stiles said sarcastically.

We managed to get Stiles away from the queens and over to the bar where we found Danny. But before I could make it there, another drag queen pulled me away from them.

“Miss girl.” She drawled. This queen was all pink. Pink acrylics, pink outfit, large poofy pink wig. Her makeup was very dramatic, but in an aesthetically pleasing way.

“Um... yes?” I cracked a nervous smile.

“Do you know where you are? Because the lesbian night club is a town over.” She pointed towards the door.

“I uh, my brother,” I pointed towards Stiles, “He just came out and was too nervous to come alone.”

“Oh, how sweet.” She said, looking over at Stiles. Stiles looked back at us. The queen smiled and winked, waving dramatically. Stiles smiled back nervously and waved before turning back to the conversation they were having.

“See, he said he wanted to go try to talk to someone alone, but he’s just so skittish.” I put my hands on my chest.

“Well good luck, doll.” She put a hand on my shoulder, “It is the beginning of a long journey.” I smiled, watching the queen walk away. I rushed back over to Stiles. Where he was unsuccessfully trying to get a drink. "Three beers." Stiles smiled. The bartender stared at us.

“IDs?” We all took out our respective IDs. He stared at them, then back at us.

“How about three cokes?” He asked.

“Rum and Cokes!” Stiles grinned, “Sure.” The bartender looked unamused.

“...Coke's fine, actually. I'm driving, anyway.” Stiles backed down. We turned around and waited, scanning the room.

“Your drinks are paid for.” We looked back at the bartender. He motioned his head to the end of the bar. There was an older man who smiled at us, toasting his beer to us.

“How bi.” I smiled, waving back. Stiles looked at Scott who was trying not to laugh.

“Awh, shut up.” Stiles glared.

“I didn’t say anything.” Scott said innocently.

“Well, your face did.” Stiles sneered, we looked back towards the dancefloor where we saw Danny dancing.

“Hey, I found Danny.” Stiles said.

“I found Jackson.” Scott said. We looked up, watching Jackson stalking the ceiling, twisting and turning through wires. Right above where Danny was dancing.

“Get Danny.” Scott said.

“What are ya gonna do?” Stiles asked as we watched Scott’s claws come out, “Works for me.” We started maneuvering our way towards Danny’s direction.

“Danny!” Stiles shouted over the music. Danny was dancing with a guy, but as we got closer, we lost sight of him.

“Danny!” Stiles called again. Smoke started coming down from the ceiling. Was there a fire? No, the smell wasn’t the same. That’s when the screaming started. I frantically looked around, trying to find anyone. Soon the smoke cleared, and there was a line of paralyzed men on the floor, Danny being one of them. “Danny!” I called. The music was shut down and the lights had come back on. I went down on my knees to check if he was breathing. He was looking around, fear in his eyes.

“(Y/N)?” He asked, his voice trembled.

“That’s right, Māhealani. I’m right here.” I smiled.

“What are you doing here?”

“Uhhh..” I looked around, “Stiles was questioning but... I think after tonight he’s gotten his answer.” I lied.

After questioning Danny, Scott made his way back to the jeep. I was sitting in the back, looking back at a very naked Jackson who they had found in the back of the club; naked and covered in blood and black goo.

“Couldn't get anything outta Danny." He said.

“Okay, can we just get the hell out of here now, before one of my dad's deputies sees me?” Stiles said anxiously. Stiles started the Jeep, but a police cruiser pulled in front of the Jeep, keeping us from our escape.

“...Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Could this get any worse?” Stiles groaned. Suddenly, Jackson groaned and sat up.

“That was rhetorical!” Stiles sighed. We turned back towards the cop car. Scott pointed to the car, “Get rid of him.”

“Get rid of him? We're at a crime scene, and he's the Sheriff!” Stiles said anxiously.

“Shit.” I ducked down, realizing that if Uncle Noah saw me, it was going to be even more awkward.

“Do something!” Scott motioned with his arms. Stiles fumbled with the door handle and got out.

Jackson sat up in the back, “Wha-...What’s going on?” I pushed him back down.

“Jackson. Jackson, be quiet.” Scott said urgently. He looked towards Stiles, then back to me.

“Why didn’t you get out with Stiles?”

“We’re not attached at the hip, ya know.” I avoided the question.

“You know what I mean.”

I sighed, chewing on the inside of my cheek, “I got into a fight with his dad. I told him that he wasn’t my dad and to stop acting like it.”

“A little harsh.” He titled his head.

“I am aware of that-” Jackson tried to sit up again.

“What’s going on?” He groaned, holding his head.

“I’m sorry, Jackson.” He punched Jackson in the jaw, sending him back down.

“Ow.” Scott winced, waving his hand.

“Don’t be sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that this entire year.” I grinned, a little impressed.

Stiles came back shortly, not saying a word as he started Roscoe and drove out of the parking lot.

“What’d you tell him?” I asked, leaning between the seats.

“I told him we took Danny clubbing because of Damon.” He sighed.

“Excellent.”

Stiles and Scott dropped me off at Scott’s house so I could get to my car and drive it back to the railroad depot. I needed to talk to Derek about what had happened tonight, if he missed it that was. He seemed to disappear after we split up.

I need to apologize. But he also needed to explain himself. What if he had gotten to Lydia that night and killed her, what did he think I would do, accept that, especially since he was wrong? I got inside, I went up to Derek’s room. He was lounging on his bed, looking at the photos. He looked up from the photos, avoiding my gaze.

“Derek, I’m sorry that I was trying to distract you... But I didn’t know what else I could do to stop you from killing Lydia.” I walked in, sitting on the edge of the bed, “I don’t know why she failed your test either, she must be... I don’t know, immune or something else that is immune.”

“You’re right, okay? I should have trusted your instincts.” He said, setting the pictures on the bed in front of him. I moved closer, looking at them again. He had the pictures of us together. There were three teens in the picture. Me, another girl, and Derek. She had long, dark brown hair, kind brown eyes with a very distinct beauty mark under her right eye. Flashes of her face filled my mind, smiling, laughing.

“Wait... Do I know her?” I picked up the picture, “I do know her.... That’s Paige.” Derek’s emotions rose higher: guilt and sadness. Looking back at him, I saw his face. He looked so broken.

“Derek, what’s wrong? Did something happen to Paige?” I asked. He leaned back against the wall.

“You were friends. She was my girlfriend.” He sighed, “She was bitten by another alpha. And she was rejecting the change. I killed her to put her out of her misery.”

“Der...” I reached out, putting a hand on his knee. Derek sat up quickly, moving the pictures onto a box next to his bed. He pulled me closer, hugging me close to him. He rested his head against my shoulder, breathing deeply. I sighed, lightly brushing my fingers over his knuckles. Derek was followed by tragedy, plagued by guilt and fear.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered.

“It’s fine, you didn’t remember.”

“Not about Paige, about everything. I just wished I could remember so I could help you more. It isn’t fair that you’re going through all of this by yourself.”

“I’m not alone.” He picked his head up off my shoulder. He brought his hand up, turning my head so I could see his eyes, “I have you. And that’s all I need.” My lips pulled up in a smile, turning so I was kneeling between his legs.

“I love you.” The words fell off my lips like they had always been there.

He grinned, “I love you.” His lips brushed against mine with every syllable. He pressed his lips to mine.

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

Read part 16 here!

This one is a little shorter because... There really is no reason, it be like that sometimes.

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#derek hale x reader #derek hale fic #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fic

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sleekervae · 4 years ago

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The Neighbour [0.3]

Something was irrevocably different with Remington; Emerson picked it off right away. On an early Tuesday afternoon, with the air thick and humid and the sun beating down like a plague (no pun intended), Remington was fussing over himself more than usual. He had changed out of four or five different outfits, playing with his hair, and was it appropriate for him to wear makeup? Eva hadn't seen him with it on, yet. No, it was probably best to keep it casual for now. Then again, he had a fantastic highlight that worked absolute magic under the sun...

It was around eleven thirty when Remington finally came down, dressed down but still presentable in a simple pair of ripped skinny jeans and a t-shirt. Emerson and Shy were sat on the couch as they watched Netflix, Pepper situated between them. Remington stopped short when he saw the pair cuddled up on the couch, he smiled deviously.

"Eugh! You guys are so flippin' cute it's gross!" he gushed, putting on his diva voice.

Shy chuckled softly, "Hi Rem,"

Emerson's attention diverted to his older brother, intrigued to see him all ready to go out somewhere.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Coffee with Eva," Remington replied simply.

"The neighbour with the cat?" Shy said.

"Yeah," Remington nodded, "Emerson tell you she gave us a loaf of bread last week?"

"He did," she smiled, "Poor thing, I felt for her. She looked so flustered at the pool,"

"Well, moving is a bitch already. Throw in Covid 19 and you got a real thorn in the ass," Emerson said, then turning back to his brother, "You gonna' be social distancing?"

"We're going to drink our coffee and walk around in the park," Remington replied, "She works from home anyway,"

"So, who asked who for the coffee?" Emerson asked.

Remington shrugged, stopping at the hallway mirror to fix his hair again, "She brought up how she hasn't had a chance to get around the neighbourhood, so I offered, she accepted. She has our vinyl too,"

"Which one?" Emerson asked.

"Boom Boom Room,"

"Side A or B?"

"A,"

"I'd approve either way,"

Shy couldn't help but subconsciouly squeeze Emerson's arm, a glimmer of excitement bursting behind her eyes, "So, she's a fan, too?"

"Took her a minute to figure it out. Didn't even bring up Em or Seb, so clearly she pays more attention to me," the blonde smirked.

Emerson glowered at his brother, "Yeah, yeah, go for your cup of fuck-off-ee," he grumbled.

Across the street, with her room strewn in discarded clothes that just didn't make the cut, Eva finally felt confident standing in her denim skirt and black tee. On any other day she'd have paired the ensemble with her pleather jacket, but it was too damn hot out. Even with the window letting in a cool breeze, the air was uncomfortably humid. What did she expect when moving from the Emerald City to Los Angeles?

Eva made sure to close and latch the window shut before she left, not eager for Pluto to go off on another reign of terror. Stopping to grab a fresh face mask, her phone suddenly began to vibrate in her purse. She figured it might have been Remington sending her a text, but the screen flashed to the Blocked Caller ID. Eva rolled her eyes and denied the call.

Stepping out into the humidity, Eva waved her hand over her face as she stepped out of the complex courtyard, just at the same time Remington was locking the door to his house. As soon as she caught his eye, he was all smiles.

She was glad to see him; a little relieved, even. He looked cool, cool enough to appear on some grungy magazine cover. All he needed to complete the look was a cigarette and maybe a skateboard, too. The messy blonde hair, the glimmer in his eyes brought back the warmth she associated with his presence and as she came to meet him at his car, his spicy cologne danced up her nose and imprinted itself in her olfactory memory.

Remington had never been more wary of how his hands shook, his left hand he stuffed into his jean pocket and the right he gripped his car keys with a vice-esque grip. He found himself mesmerized briefly by the fit of her skirt, her black t-shirt tucked in smoothly but not too tight to over expose her figure, but just enough to give Remington an idea. Her short brown hair fell delicately over her face, one side pushed back behind her ears and exposing her stormy blue eyes to the sunshine. She was the embodiment of innocence and grunge wrapped into a perfect five-foot-six package.

"Glad you didn't stand me up," he grinned.

"Well, I kind of happen to live right over there," she drawled, pointing to her balcony, "It'd be kind of awkward and hard to hide if I tried,"

"You look really nice," he nodded after a brief moment.

"So do you," she agreed with confidence, "Where we off to?"

There was a forested park not far from where they lived. Despite the pandemic, the fields were filled with older kids playing games of soccer and basketball, there were vendors out trying to sell their ice cream, a couple girls were scattered across the grass and sunbathing. It almost all seemed so normal, if not for the fact that the kid's jungle gym had been fenced off so no child could climb upon it.

The pair walked side-by-side, him with his iced black coffee and her with a green tea frapp -- no whipping cream. The gravel path they walked was shaded by a canopy of lush green trees, providing some relief from the hammering heat. Remington kept his gaze locked on her, worried to miss a moment where she'd crack a smile or briefly run her tongue over her lips. Her fingers appeared so dainty yet he could spot the small calluses at the middle joint of her thumb, and some paper cuts on her middle and index fingers.

"So, how does a ghostwriter get hired?" Remington asked, "Do you just openly advertise 'hey! If you're a lazy author, come hire me'?"

"No," Eva shook her head with a giggle, "I used to write articles for the newsletter at my college, and then a friend of mine forwarded me an email about a client who was looking for a ghostwriter. I didn't know much about it but the money was pretty good. It was a grant application for requesting financial aid for survivors of residential schools,"

"Sounds depressing," Remington said.

"It was pretty heavy shit," Eva admitted, "But, I did get fifteen-hundred for a six page application. Well worth it, I'd say,"

Remington blew an impressed whistle, "So you make pretty good money off of this?"

"Let's just say my student debt has decreased significantly since I took up the profession," and she took a brief sip of her drink.

"You ever publish anything under your own name?" he asked, "Eva Kuznetsov is a cute pen name. Evelina sounds more mature, though..."

Eva shrugged, "I think about it sometimes... but it's just easier to write under someone else's name and let them have all the glory. Say, if they happen to do something stupid to forever tarnish their career, that won't come back to bite me in the ass,"

Remington smirked, "Like a particular fantasy author who's made some pretty heavy comments concerning the trans community?"

"Let's not even talk about that, my heart still breaks when I think about it," Eva sighed, "To answer your question, however, if I got confident enough I may try to publish something in the future,"

"What else do you like to write?"

Eva opened her mouth but closed it quickly, pressing together her petunia pink lips as she visibly swallowed whatever words were about to pass through them. When she looked up at Remington again, his brown eyes dark like soaked coffee grinds that sent her into a caffeinated headrush. What would he think if she actually told him...

"I write poems, some short stories," she somewhat lied.

Remington's smile grew wider, mischief glimmering over his face like light beams reflecting over windchimes in a saturated dusk, "You hesitated just now," he spoke curiously, "What else do you write?"

Eva glanced down at the ground, a nervous giggle bubbling out and knocking the air out of her lungs, "Okay listen, don't judge me, it's just a hobby of mine,"

"Oh God!" Remington gasped, "Do you write porn?"

Eva laughed again, her pale cheeks flushing in red, "Well... I do happen write some naughty shit... in my fanfictions,"

Remington stopped dead in his tracks, taken aback by her answer. He totally thought she would say something along the lines of erotic fiction on a platform like Literotica. For understandable reasons, he had some mixed emotions about fanfictions.

"What kind of fanfiction?" he asked, somewhat bordering on the third degree.

"... Um..." she glanced at him again, the smirk on his lips compelling more giggles to burst from hers. She pressed her hands together over her nose and mouth, and Remington laughed as well.

"Okay listen, I promise," he put his right hand over his chest, "I promise I will not judge you for whatever smut you write for whoever," he assured her.

"It's not... yeah, I guess it kind of is," Eva chuckled nervously, "I usually write for stuff like Criminal Minds, but more lately I've gotten into writing for Euphoria..." she trailed off, timid as she waited for his response.

"Alright, that's actually not bad," he nodded, "I'll be honest, you didn't strike me as somebody who write fanfics,"

Eva glanced timidly at her scuffed sneakers, kicking up pebbles and dust, "Are fanfic writers supposed to look a certain way?"

"I don't know, actually," he simpered.

"I don't tell a lot of people that I do it, mainly because their first impression is either 'what the fuck' or 'OMG we should collaborate' and I'm just like," she hung her head back, "Nooo!"

"You're more of a soloist then a team player, then?" he teased.

"Let's just say I tend to work better alone," she replied, shrugging her shoulders as though the comment should mean nothing. But Remington found it odd that Eva was out here all on her own, never brought up her friends or family. He didn't see many personal effects in her apartment, neither.

"Is that why you're out here by yourself?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she replied.

"Well... don't take this the wrong way, but I haven't really seen you with anybody. You don't talk about your friends or your family,"

Eva shrugged again, "They're all back in Seattle. Besides, opportunity was drying up over there and I just wanted a fresh start," she said, "Besides, Pluto's my friend,"

"Well, that's a given," he replied, "Are your parents up in Seattle?"

"My dad is," she nodded, "I don't know what my mom's doing," Remington's silent was her cue to go on, "I um... we haven't really spoken, her and I,"

"You have a falling out?" he asked suddenly.

Eva glared down at the gravel again, "You can call it that. She's a pilot and she's always flying, and so you know, I never really got to see much of her growing up. And then, she suddenly shows up for my college graduation and expects us to be one big happy family, like she has it in her head that she can make up for all the birthdays and shit she's missed. And I just didn't know what to say to her. I don't know who she is, but she's my mom," she glanced up at Remington again, "And I don't know why I'm telling you all of this,"

Remington wasn't bothered by her unloading, it seemed as though Eva needed to get things off her chest more than she realized. Her smile was sardonic and her voice petty like a comedian on stage, putting on the brave 'I don't give a fuck anymore' face.

"I find sometimes it's easier to unload to new people then it is to your friends," he said, "What does your dad do?"

"Chem professor. Which is ironic because I seriously sucked at chemistry," she replied.

"Show me a kid who didn't struggle in chem, honestly," he said, "But do you get along with your dad?"

"For the most part," she chuckled, "He's still confused as to why I choose to write anonymously, but that's his problem. What do your parents do?"

Remington chewed on the inside of his cheek, "My mom's kind of like our manager. Does a lot of production and behind the scenes stuff. And I haven't seen my dad for nearly twenty years,"

Eva was silent for a moment, studying him. He spoke with a firm grin, yet still trying to shadow that flicker of sadness within his face.

"So we both have parental issues... that's nice to know," she put on a teasing grin, "Maybe that's why we make such good friends?"

Remington swallowed thickly, "So, you are indeed confirming we are friends?"

"I am," she smiled, "It'd be nice to have whatever few I can scrape up,"

"That fact that you also live across the street means that you're now stuck with me," Remington grinned with pride.

"True," Eva hummed appreciatively, taking another sip of her drink, "Somehow, I don't think I'll mind, though,"

When Remington drove her home she gave him a sweet and polite goodbye, a hug which made his confident exterior falter for a second long enough for her to witness it through the flush in his cheeks and his lack of response. His words tripped over the length of his tongue when he tried to flush out a proper goodbye and he felt his hands began to quiver again.

And when he went to open his door, he took one last glance. The small brunette turned at the same time and met his gaze, but he was too far away to hear her sharp inhale. And when he finally went inside he fall back against the door, staring into space with the biggest grin he'd had on since... well, he couldn't remember when he last felt so excited.

#remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #sebastian danzig #emerson barrett #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #original story #original female character

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gaystripstories · 5 years ago

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About a month ago, I had a new neighbor move in, and I sat by my window watching his sweaty, muscular body as he carried in boxes to his house. He was a welcome addition in more ways than one- there used to be an older couple that lived next door with a junky old RV in the backyard. It had been left behind when they moved away, and my neighbor started dismantling. Finding any excuse to be near him while he worked, I began a gardening project right by the short fence between our yards.

Aw fuck!

Peering over the fence, I saw him holding the handle that had broken off of his shovel. He’d been using it to dig up the sunken front end of the RV, but he apparently went a little too hard.

Need another one?

He swung his head around to my question, and he gave me a smile that brightened up his rugged face.

You still willing after I just broke this one? I’ll go easy I promise.

No prob- I just finished digging up my last bush, so you can use it for a while.

Thanks- by the way, I’m Charlie.

Matt. Welcome to the neighborhood.

I’d run out of projects to do in the backyard, so I had to be content with watching him again from the window. As the sun lowered in the sky, he ripped off his shirt and threw it over the old wheelbarrow beside him. He had a bit of a belly, but I knew that it was covering solid muscle. My hand was pawing at my crotch as he upended his water bottle over his head to cool himself off. He glistened in the later afternoon sun, and I would have been able to watch him for hours if he hadn’t have looked towards my window right at that moment. I doubt he could have seen me before I ducked out of the way, but it’s as if he could see me watching him. I’d have to be more careful tomorrow.

The next morning, I decided that I would wash off my garbage cans just to be outside. Opening the door, there was a small post-it note stuck right in the center of the glass:

Didn’t want to wake you up just in case, but I finished up with your shovel so you can swing by and grab it at that piece of shit RV.

Not wasting a second, I headed up to the street to get around the fence and walked into his backyard. I could hear him moving stuff around inside, and I knocked on the opened door.

Charlie?

He appeared a second later, standing there completely naked except for his work boots and the shovel covering his crotch. He’d taken my breath away, and I just stood there admiring his body. His quads bulged out of his legs, and he was thankfully hairy everywhere.

Sorry bud, the old fan broke this morning, and I had to strip off to keep from overheating. I meant to put my pants back on, but I forgot that I even had my cock out.

Hearing that word come out of his mouth made me look down at his crotch- the shovel had dropped a bit in his arms, and he was showing off an impressive bush above his cock.

N- no problem.

If you want, I can grab some clothes inside the house and show off the renovations in there. So far, I’ve done the master bedroom and the shower in the master bath. You want to see?

I’d like to see everything. But I don’t want you to have to waste a clean outfit just for me.

His eyebrows were raised now as we both pretended that we didn’t know exactly what we were both implying.

Well, I could shower off if I wanted to. Care to join me?

As long as you leave that shovel here. I only really care about the tool behind it.

With a laugh bubbling up deep inside of him, he powerfully threw the shovel behind him and forcefully swept me off the ground. Up close, I could smell his musk and feel his cock firming up against my leg as he walked.

Thank goodness his shovel broke yesterday...

#so it took me over a year to realize that basically all of the tags that I used were useless #clicking on them led you nowhere so no one could discover my posts that didn't already follow me #so if you liked this help me out by giving it a reblog so more people can see my stories!

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lost-inyourwords · 5 years ago

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bad ideas can have good endings (Maeve Wiley x F!Reader)

Request: “Hey! if you are still taking requests could i please have a maeve x female reader where maeve gets outed by Otis when he’s drunk and tells everyone that she likes R? maybe angst with some fluff? Thank you!!!!!!!” @onehellagaykid

Warnings: minor angst, underage drinking, minor retching/vomit mentions

Word count: 1849

A/N: thank you so much for your request! I had such a blast writing this and I hope it’s everything you imagined :) feedback is mega appreciated and requests, as always, are open!

This party was a bad idea. Maeve knew it, Ola knew it, Otis had yet to figure it out and Eric was too busy inviting people to stop and think about it. As [Y/N] put on her outfit for the night, she was looking forward to the carnage that a party brings but there was dread in the back of her mind. What if she got too drunk and accidentally told an Untouchable to shove their million-pound attitude up their ass? What if she blacked out and ended up missing school? Who has a party on a Thursday anyway? Pushing her apprehensions to the back of her mind, she fastened her necklace; a simple silver chain with a small bee-shaped pendant.

“Where are you off to then?” Erin drawled once again. Maeve could swear she felt the headache arrive moment by moment, “Nowhere,” came the quick reply. The faster she got out of the caravan, the less questions she’d get. Erin, ever the supportive mum, scoffed dramatically. “Fine, don’t tell me. Is there at least a boy involved?” she pleaded. Fine, Maeve would indulge her for the 20 seconds she had left of lacing up a boot. “No, there isn’t. I keep trying to tell you that boys have never - and will never - be involved,” she reprimanded. Erin did her best not to look wounded but Maeve could tell there would be no further conversation. Pulling her tote over her shoulder, she left the caravan and waved ‘bye-bye’ to Elsie though the window. Turning toward the exit of the park, she sighed. This was a bad idea. She heard Isaac trying to taunt her again but decided she didn’t want to potentially get involved in an assault case, so she simply sped up and put her mind in a different place.

Otis Milburn is not what you would describe as a “frequent drinker”. In fact, many people wouldn’t describe him as a “drinker” in the first place - not even himself. This Otis, though, would say something very different. That is, of course, if he could get the words out without burping obscenely or choking back a bit of sick. Yes, Otis Milburn - sex kid, Moordale’s very own urban legend - was drunk. Not just drunk, but positively wasted. [Y/N] wondered if he thought this was a bad idea. She found Eric among the heaving crowd overtaking the house.

“What is he doing? I’ve never seen him like this,” she said, unable to contain the concern in her tone.

“Relax! He’s fine, just enjoying himself and letting loose a little. Speaking of which, can I get you a drink? You look so wound up,” he slurred slightly.

“Yeah, alright. Just a cider or something though, I have to walk home after this,” she replied, conceding that she was a little high-strung by the stressful week behind her. Maeve had come back to school. Yes, Maeve, the one and only girl who had ever made [Y/N] think about love outside of the fairytale bubble containing a white picket fence and 3 kids whom all look too similar to truly pick a favourite. That word hadn’t even been in her vocabulary until she came to high school and met the smartest person she knows. She’d read so many great books thanks to the once pink-haired rebel. Had enjoyed so many hours of amazing music both with her and because of her. She’d been devastated last term when everything went down with Sean. She’d sounded so sad over the phone. They’d tried to keep in touch but there was only so much that they could do until the horrible drift happened. [Y/N] would actively avoid the pretzel shop at the local shopping centre because she knew that she wouldn’t be able to hold back her pity. Despite how strongly Maeve carried herself, [Y/N] knew what happened behind closed doors. The breakdowns, the empty laughs, the glazed over eyes at 2am when sleep evaded her. Besides, [Y/N] had started talking to Otis after Maeve disappeared. He’d confessed about how sorry he felt for the way things ended and all he wanted was to see her again one more time to just apologise and tell her how proud he was of her. It was sweet. Perhaps he was thinking about that right now and needed alcohol to numb the pain. Maeve had just strolled in the door, after all.

Upon stepping foot inside, Maeve recognised that this party was already a disaster. Not 30 seconds had passed before she saw multiple people drunk off their faces and at least one person puking in a bin. Charming. Eyes scanning the crowd, her gaze fell lovingly upon the makeshift bar in the kitchen, which she made a quick beeline towards. Pouring a too-strong drink, she let herself drift. She didn’t need to think tonight; maybe she’d let herself get blackout drunk for once. Losing control could be good. Feelings were too complicated anyways; especially those involving other people. Like [Y/N]. Especially [Y/N]. Maeve’s thoughts and dreams had been overtaken by visions of the girl; from daydreaming about going on cheesy dates to nights spent dreaming about… more inappropriate activities. She longed to feel [Y/N]’s hand in her own, to kiss her in the morning at school, even to watch her fall apart underneath her when she finally gives her what she begged so sweetly for. Having gotten lost in her own thoughts again, her eyes drifted towards [Y/N] and Eric, standing next to someone hunched over a bin. Again, she contemplated, charming.

Otis retched once again, the sound ripping through [Y/N]’s ears despite the blasting music flooding the house. Eric tutted softly.

“You are such a lightweight, man. How can you not even hold down a shot?” He pleaded, clearly exasperated. Rahim seemed to apparate out of thin air and dragged him away with nothing but a suggestive look that he hoped [Y/N] didn’t see. She did, but elected to ignore it. If there was anything she wanted to avoid tonight, it would be a horny and impatient Eric without his best friend by his side. Otis finally straightened up from his shameful hunch over the bin and swiftly headed back to the kitchen for a refill. Would he ever learn? She decided not to think about that and instead let her eyes scan her surroundings. So many teenagers - so many insecurities in one room. How many of them were getting completely wasted to forget about their feelings or their home life? How many were looking for a random hookup just so they could brag to their friends about losing their virginity? She silently hoped that Maeve didn’t fall into that last category.

Maeve pounded her second shot. “Fuck it,” she murmured to herself. Making her way across the room to where [Y/N] stood, a wave of confidence flowed through her. Even though she knew that was simply her blood flowing faster due to the booze, she still felt empowered. She was finally going to do it. After a year of looking away right before she got caught staring, a year of daydreaming, a year of pining, she’d finally let her true feelings be known.

Otis had poured his fifth drink for the night and set his sights for [Y/N]. He needed to apologise. He didn’t know what for, but [Y/N] had such a sad look in her eyes some days - Otis definitely knew it was somehow his fault. Swishing the plastic cup in his right hand, he contemplated what he would say before getting to her. His train of thought was interrupted when he felt the sharp-smelling liquor splash and land on his shirt. He turned rapidly, ready to throw venomous words at whatever clumsy asshole wasn’t watching their step, but his sentiments died quickly in his throat when he saw Maeve’s brown locks. She swivelled on the spot. Paused for a beat too long.

“...Oh. Hey, dickhead,” she said, straight-faced and terrifying as ever.

“Hey. Wa- watch… where you’re going, maybe?” Otis replied, bold, and suddenly really feeling that fourth shot.

“Yeah, sorry,” she brushed him off and tried to continue on her way to [Y/N].

“HEY! Don’t walk away,” he shouted, unfortunately loud enough to catch the attention of pretty much everyone downstairs.

Shit. Why was he trying to make a scene? Is this just what he’s like when he drinks? No-one should have ever let him near any alcohol in the first place. God, she could punch him right now.

“Sorry, Otis. Do you have something to say?” she spat, quickly losing her nerve.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. I’m sorry, okay? I’m- I-” he stuttered, retching a little.

“Go on then, spit it out!” someone yelled before turning the music down. Oh great, Maeve thought. So we’re involving everyone in this then?

“I’m sorry about all the shit that went down with you and Jackson last term. I’m sorry you have to live alone and all your family left. And I’m sorry that.. that you’re in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same way. Trust me, I know the feeling, Maeve,” he finished, his eyes landing directly on [Y/N]. She backed away slowly, her eyes never leaving Maeve’s, and disappeared upstairs.

Maeve could feel tears forming in her eyes. The quicker she found [Y/N], the better.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself, Otis. Oh and by the way, I’m sorry that you can’t wank or hold a girlfriend down for longer than six months,” she uttered, before running after [Y/N].

Maeve eventually found [Y/N] in the bathroom after very unfortunately stumbling upon Eric and Rahim’s… activities in Otis’ bedroom. She’d never closed a door so fast in her life. Sitting opposite her on the floor, [Y/N] took a deep breath.

“So… is it true?” she asked. No point beating around the bush. Either she denies it and they continue this weird song and dance or this ends happily ever after.

“Is what true?” Maeve parrotted. This wasn’t happening. [Y/N] forced out a huff.

“Fine. If that’s what you want to do, then there’s no point of me being here. I’m leaving,” she snapped. She didn’t need any more bullshit tonight. Anger flared through her as she stood and made for the door.

“Wait!” Maeve called out, reaching the door before [Y/N] and putting her weight against it. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? It is true. I… I have feelings for you. It’s really hard because I know you’d never feel the same so I’m sorry that he embarrassed you like that, I’m gonna go kick his arse-” she rambled before being cut off by [Y/N]’s lips on her own.

“Shut up,” she mumbled against them. “I like you too, alright? Have for a while. Been thinking about doing this for a while, too,” she confirmed.

“Me too,” Maeve said, pulling away slightly. “Can I kiss you again?” she asked softly. Turning them around so that [Y/N] was backing her up against the wall, she replied, “Of course”.

#sex ed #sex education s2 #sex education #sex education fluff #maeve wiley #maeve wiley x reader #female reader #fanfiction #otis milburn #sex education netflix #requests are open #maeve wiley fanfic

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billyhargroveinaponytail · 5 years ago

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Good Ole Dacre Montgomery

Warning: soft smut, language,violence

Thank you guys for the love, I hope you enjoy this :)

Chapter 4: ‘Bye,bye Miss American Pie’

@dreamin-of-dacre

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Wednesday morning had come and Paisley was due to arrive any minute. Myra quickly cleaned up her trailer, after getting off the phone with security letting them know someone would be coming to visit her. Myra opened the trailer door looking around outside when out of nowhere someone was wrapping their arms around her. "MJ I have missed you so much!" Paisley was always so tiny, she was often referred to as a toothpick, but for a toothpick she was very strong; probably because of her 4 older brothers always picking on her.

Paisley raised Myra off the ground squeezing her tightly, "Paisley, I missed you so much!" She spoke out of breath,after being sat back down on the ground she returned the hug. "Where is everyone? I am ready to meet people!" Paisley searched around the empty parking lot. "They're all working right now, either filming or getting into costume!"

Paisley sighed in defeat, "I can wait then! What do you have planned for today?" She removed her backpack and picked her wheeled suitcase off the ground. "I was thinking we'd go find ourselves an outfit and then we can come back and I can introduce you to everyone!" Myra replied,opening her trailer door for Paisley to come inside. Paisley looked around in shock complimenting Myra's temporary home. "This place is nicer than our apartment!" She made her way into the bedroom and bathroom taking in every inch.

Paisley noticed a man's jacket hanging from the bedroom door, "I-is this his jacket?" Her grin resembled something psychotic,Myra nodded "He let me use that last night when he walked me back home." Up until this moment everything seemed like a dream, a perfect twisted dream but now that Paisley was here and Myra was able to share everything with her it seemed real, she really had spent the last two weeks with Dacre and they had gone on a couple dates, learning more about each other and even though she hated to admit it she was falling in love.

The jacket was quickly removed from the door and moved to Paisley's nose, "Mmm he smells so good like come on, how much more perfect can this guy get?" Myra took the jacket from her grip and tossed it onto her couch. "How about this dress store? And I promise to tell you more on the way!" Paisley instantly tugged on her arm, racing them out of the home and to the cars. "So have you two kissed?" They walked towards the large gated area, Myra's Jeep waiting behind it. "Yes," She instantly started blushing and the nervous jitters she had gotten before returned. Paisley's face showed nothing but complete shock, "You kissed Dacre Montgomery, the Stranger Things' bad boy!" Paisley was almost jumping up and down with excitement, Myra always cherished having her as a friend, she was always excited for her accomplishments and always had her back.

The fenced gate swung open and they walked to Myra's car getting inside. "I did kiss him, multiple times and it was amazing! His lips are so sweet and he is so sweet!" Myra felt herself rambling on as she clicked her seat belt over her and started up the car. "So are you two going on a date to this red carpet event?" Myra had never really thought about that, she just assumed they would both be there working and that it wouldn't be much of a date thing. "I-uh-I don't think so, I have you and we're going to be busy helping out the cast!" Paisley clapped her hands with joy, "I can't wait to help, you think they need some extras on set? I could help!" Myra pulled out of the driveway, the gate closing behind her, she drove down the long road passing security and heading into town. "I am not sure if they need help but I can always ask!" Myra spoke before being interrupted by the chime coming from her phone,it was Dacre.

Dacre: I am missing you on set today! ;)

Paisley read the text out loud to Myra, giggling the entire time. "He misses you! That's the cutest thing! What am I typing back?" She starred over at Myra awaiting a response. "Oh uh nothing I will reply later!" She reached out for her phone placing it back into her cup holder. The dress shop was inside a mall about 15 minutes away from where they had been filming, they supposedly were going to be using this mall later on for the show.

Gwinnett Plaza, the large sign read at the opening, the parking lot seemed empty so they'd be able to get in, get what they needed and get right back to set. Paisley tugged the door open for her and Myra. "What kind of dress are you looking for?"

"Maybe something fancy and flowy?" Myra shrugged as they walked down the hallway to the first store. "You need something low cut and sexy! So you can show off for Dacre! Oh like this!" Paisley grabbed the first dress she saw on the rack, it was a long black dress covered completely in lace. "There is no way in hell that's way too much lace and that thing would be skin tight on me!" Paisley rolled her eyes and reached out for another dress. This time she grabbed a long strapless red dress with a ruffled floral pattern at the bottom. "What about this one?" Paisley held the dress up to Myra's figure. "Not for me but that would look great on you! You'll look like a movie star!" Paisley nodded now holding the dress up against her chest. "I'm going to try it on, see if you can find anything for yourself!"

Myra walked through the racks nothing catching her attention, a group of girls where huddled in the corner giggling glancing over at Myra. She gave a confused look and continued searching through the racks when a girl from the group gained the courage to walk over to her. "Is this you?" She held her phone showing Myra a photo of her and Dacre walking into the store together. Myra had no idea someone had taken their photo she didn't see anyone around. She stared at the photo speechless. "Are you dating Dacre?" The young girl waited eagerly for a reply. "No no," Myra shook her head, "We are just friends that's all!"

"Oh alright." The girl sighed before walking over to the group of friends again. Myra was still left in confusion but she brushed it off after Paisley left the changing room. "I feel like a barbie doll!" Paisley spun around the dress flowing with her. "That is definitely the one! You have to get it!" Paisley clapped her hands, swaying her hips to the song playing throughout the store. "Any luck finding one for you?" Myra watched an employee return a dress to the rack that caught her attention. "Oh it's sparkly I love it!" Paisley snatched up the dress shoving it into Myra. "Go try it on!" Myra fumbled inside adjusting the long grey dress up her figure, it had deep v cut and a long slit in the shirt, she could have never imagined herself if something like this but now that she had it on she felt like royalty.

The curtain was ripped back and Paisley peeked her head in. "You look incredible! You have to get that one!" Myra couldn't agree more. The shop had started to crowd up with people shopping around so the two of them made their way to check out and then off to Myra's car. Their two dresses were tossed into the back seat before Myra took out her phone to reply to Dacre.

Myra: Heading back to the trailer and then we will see you soon! :)

For the entire ride back Paisley caught Myra up to date on everyone back home, Myra's ex was still asking about her and her family was still coming over to Paisley's family's home every weekend for dinner. Paisley was adopted when she was 12 she says she doesn't remember much about her birth parents but something about it always seemed off to Myra like she did remember something she just didn't want to talk about it and Myra never wanted to force anything out of her but, she always stayed curious. Paisley's adopted family became close with Myra's during family days at school so close they even began spending weekends together having family dinners and family game nights, it was nice to know that the tradition still continued without Myra there to remind them.

The paparazzi that had been crowded by the parking gate before had now returned, George gave a friendly wave to the two of them as he opened the gate for them. Cameras were turned in their direction from the crowd of roaring people only for them to be disappointed when Paisley stepped out waving to them. She sighed raising her middle finger to them, "Don't be too butt hurt," Myra laughed grabbing her dress from the back seat. "They're looking for the Millie or Joe or any of the Actors, we aren't special enough for them!" Paisley took out her dress,slamming the door shut behind her. "You'll be special enough for them when they find out you are dating Dacre!" Myra slapped her arm shushing her. "Don't say that! We aren't dating we are just friends!"

Paisley rolled her eyes as they walked towards Myra's trailer, "Oh,so do you kiss all of your friends because I haven't gotten a kiss!" Paisley wiggled her brow, with a shit eating grin then, making a kissing face to her. They stepped inside and Myra laid their dresses on the bed and glanced at the schedule she had tapped to her fridge. "Looks like they're about to go inside to the green screen room, you wanna go there or wait until after?"

The expression of joy plastered over Paisley's face, "Will we get to see them filming?" Myra nodded, "Sylvia said you could join us on set, you just have to sign a paper saying you'll keep all information to yourself!" Paisley jumped up and down like an excited toddler,squealing. Myra's phone rung again, it was Dacre replying.

Dacre: Great! I am headed to set now I can't wait to meet your friend, babe! :)

Myra's stomach did twelve summer salts reading his message, he called her babe. She wanted to run to him and shower him with kisses but held back the reactions. Paisley peered over her shoulder to read the message but her phone was shoved into her pocket. "You need to act calm when we get down there and you have to be quiet!" Myra held back her laugh,she had missed Paisley and her crazy behavior. Myra laid her passcode lanyard over her neck and lead Paisley to the large metal building scanning them in through the front door. People were scattered throughout the room as they squeezed their way through. A loud voice echoed over a megaphone as everyone took seats obeying the command. Mary saw the two lost girls and grabbed onto them leading them to empty seats. "Hey girls! Perfect timing!"

"Mary,Sylvia,Jane this is my friend Paisley!" Paisley shot them a wide grin and wave before the director yelled over the megaphone again. "Quiet on set!" A girl in a multiple patterned outfit stood in the center of the green screened room. She turned to face the camera and Myra had realized it was Millie the young girl who was portraying Eleven in the show. Paisley nudged her arm with a large smile plastered onto her face. "Action!" The director spoke as the camera moved positions from the top of her head to zoom in on her face. Millie looked to her right with a confused look; the floor, which had been covered in water, splashed up as she walked in the direction of Billy's beaten up car from previous night. She glanced inside the empty vehicle and walked towards the back of it, the trunk sat open, then her attention was brought to a girl whimpering in the corner someone seemed to be huddled over her.

"Don't be afraid." A familiar voice spoke in a deep monotoned voice. "It'll be over soon!" Eleven walked closer picking up her pace, the water beginning to splash up more around her feet. "Just stay very still." Billy spoke kneeled on one knee. Eleven stood directly behind him as he rose to his feet and quickly turned to face her. The trapped girl continued her whimpering, yelling for Billy, Eleven's eyes began to tear up when the director yelled cut. Everyone clapped and the room filled with praise. Millie walked over to their group waving at Mary, who stood from her chair to help fix her hair down with hairspray. "Millie this is our new intern Myra and her friend Paisley!" Mary nodded to the two of them. Millie shook both of their hands, "It's so nice to meet you guys!" Myra was a little caught off guard by her British accent, she didn't know Millie was British until now. "It's nice to meet you too!" Paisley spoke up in a calm voice this time.

"Glad to see you made it!" An Australian voice spoke up as Dacre walked towards their group. "You did great out there, you've got a thing with kidnapping girls don't you?" Myra spoke up offering up the empty seat next to her, Dacre obliged and moved his face next to hers, she gulped at the sudden closeness. "I mean I wouldn't mind kidnapping you." He whispered in a voice that made her knees go weak. Sylvia coughed to disrupt the now awkward silence. "Oh uh Dacre this is my friend Paisley!" Paisley stood from her chair introducing herself. "Ah yes, Paisley I have heard a lot about you!" Dacre smiled shaking her out reached hand. "Are you going to be joining us for lunch?" Dacre pushed back the lose curls that hang in his face. "Yeah that would be great I am starving!"

The lunch room was almost empty, the entire room consisted off Dacre, Paisley,Myra, a few background characters and the kitchen staff. "The desserts here are amazing, but very addicting!" Paisley shrugged taking a few onto her tray. "Fine with me I am not watching my weight!" Myra laughed taking a cookie off her tray and putting in onto her own. "Glad to know my Paisley hasn't changed."

Joe Keery had walked in with his ice cream uniform on, the small shorts exposing his upper thigh causing a light chuckle to leave Myra. "What is this?" She pointed to his attire. "This right here is the outfit of a working man!" He struck a pose, making the entire group laugh. "I'll grab a tray and I will be right over!" Paisley sat next to Myra her entire face an off shade of red, "He's a sweet heart there's no need to be nervous!" Myra whispered in a comforting tone. "So now that I have got you here you need to tell me everything about Myra!" Dacre spoke up as the two looked over at him. "No way!" Myra laughed shaking her finger in Paisley's face.

"Oh what do you want to know? The time Myra got drunk and kissed a Stranger Things poster or the time she wrote a fanfic for our english class or details about her room in our apartment?" A sinister look grew on Paisley's face. "Everything!" Dacre laughed choking on his drink. Myra could have curled into a ball and died at this very moment, she kept her eyes down at her tray trying to hid the embraced look etched onto her face. "Perfect! So after watching the first season together, we instantly went out and bought posters and shirts, we even held a halloween party where we decorated the apartment up with lights and our own demogorgon creation. Also at this time Myra was a Steve girl through and through. Then we had a season 2 viewing party and Myra instantly fell in love with a blue Mustang pulling into the parking lot then with the man who drove that Mustang." Myra rolled her eyes correcting Paisley, "Camaro."

Paisley laughed continuing on her rant. "For my birthday we had a dress up party and she dressed up like female Billy and then got extremely drunk and made out with a poster of Billy, I think she still even has that poster at the apartment!" The entire time she talked Dacre laughed uncontrollably,worried on drinking anymore in fear he would spit it across the table. "Next we had a writing project in english to write about romance so MJ over here wrote a 'Harringrove' fanfic and she got the top grade in the class." Dacre paused her and looked over at Myra's hidden face. "Harringrove really? I never took you for the type!" He raised a brow, awaiting a response. "Oh come on you know the sexual tension is there, there's no denying it!"

"Continue on then I wanna hear about her room details!" Dacre chewed on his bottom lip keeping his eyes on Myra, sheepishly eating her food. "You know those little funko bobblehead things? We have those all over the walls along with posters and Myra has a Stranger Things comforter and she sleeps in a t-shirt that says.." Myra swiftly slapped her hand over Paisley's mouth. "No more thank you!" "Oh come on I have to know!" Dacre pleaded as Joe joined them at the table, Myra shook her head no changing the subject. "Joe this is my friend Paisley!" Paisley waved shyly in his direction. "Joe Keery it's nice to meet you!" He shook her jittering hand,placing his other hand on top. "You doing ok?" He chuckled looking worried. "oh yeah I'm ok, just uh cold." She lied through her teeth.

Lunch had ended and the group had returned to their designated areas. Dacre, Myra and Paisley stood around in the wardrobe trailer as Dacre dug through his rack looking for his next outfit. "I'm gonna step outside here and give you some privacy!" Paisley pushed open the trailer door, sitting on the steps outside. "I'm gonna join her outside!" Myra walked to the door before Dacre grabbed her up setting her down on the counter top. "I have been dying to kiss you all day.." He spoke in a low growl. Myra grabbed his shoulders pulling him between her legs,pushing her lips against his. He tasted sweet like the mint he had put in after lunch, he ran his hands under her shirt causing her entire body to be covered in goosebumps. Myra ran her hand down his chest undoing the few buttons of his shirt that were yet to be undone.Dacre placed light kisses down her neck then making his way to her ear where he tugged on her earlobe. "We-we have to get going Dacre!" Myra forced out with a soft moan. He nodded mutely as his mouth worked it's way down to her neck then to her collarbone.

"You ready Dacre?" Sylvia's voice spoke from the other side of the door. Dacre came to a halt, helping Myra off the counter and redoing the buttons on his shirt. He adjusted himself in his pants and nodded to Myra with a smirk. "Yeah Syl all ready!" He tossed back a curl from his shoulder and opened the door with a smile. "let's get going ladies!" Myra was lost, what in the world just happened, didn't matter she wanted more of it. Paisley gave her a questioning look, "You ok? You look flustered." Myra was at a lost for towards, she just nodded in response, pushing Paisley to keep up with Dacre and Sylvia.

Sylvia lead their group onto a set that was styled to look like someone's home, there had been family portraits hung up all over and it had the perfect 80s home vibe all the way down to the hardwood floors and textured wallpaper. Millie had returned to set and this time she was joined by Sadie, the actress playing Max. Paisley,Sylvia and Myra took their seats soon joined by Jane, while Mary stood on the set fixing everyone's hair and doing last minute make up touches. Dacre stood in the dining room area receiving notes from the director, he glanced in Myra's direction giving a wink and a playful smile. "What happened in that wardrobe trailer?" Paisley pulled on Myra's shirt gaining her attention.

"Oh uh nothing we just talked." Myra kept her eyes glued to the manila envelope laying in her lap. "huh just talking? You've got a funny way of just talking, I mean the poor dude came out with a hard on and his buttons on his shirt all a mess." She pointed to Dacre adjusting the buttons in the small mirror that hung in the set designed home. Myra did everything possible to keep from laughing, her face burned with embracement.

"Millie,Sadie let's get you two in the hall and we will start there! Everyone else get in your place!" The director spoke over the loud groups. Everyone filed into place,two older people joined Billy at the dining table. The entire cast stood motionless waiting for the next command,as a camera focused on Millie and Sadie standing in the doorway. "Action!" The camera focused on a picture of Heather and what seemed to be her parents as Sadie spoke up.

"This is her house."

"What?"

"Heather's house"

A woman's laugh was heard throughout the home as they turned the corner to hear Dacre speak up. "Isn't that cute huh?" They came to face Heather's parents dressed up at the diner table joined by Dacre. "He's so funny!" The mother continued on laughing,before he attention to brought to the two young girls dripping wet in her living room.

"Max." Dacre spoke in a charming voice. Everyone's face grew with confusion when Max spoke up. "We didn't mean to...barge in. We tried to knock, but..you maybe didn't hear us over the storm." Both of their damp hair drenched the floor they stood on, Dacre continued chewing with a devious look. "I'm sorry who is this dripping all over my living room right now?" Dacre let out a low chuckle,shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Janet, Tom, this is my sister Maxine!" He tossed his napkin onto the table before standing and walking to her. "What on earth are you doing here? Is something wrong?" His expression changed when he came to face Max.

"We just wanted to make sure everything was ok." "Ok?" Dacre gave off an almost unreadable expression."Why wouldn't it be ok?"

"Where is she?"Millie spoke up stepping forward. "I'm sorry, where is who?" His lifeless eyes starred at the two. "Well, they're a little burnt, I'm sorry-" Heather came around the corner carrying a tray of cookies to the dinner table. "Heather!" Dacre chimed raising his arm to introduce the two. "This is my sister, Maxine. And I am sorry I did not quite catch your name." "El!" Millie spoke in a serious tone. "El." Dacre repeated. "Now what is it you were saying,El? You were looking for somebody?" Eleven mumbled a little in confusion. "I--I saw-I saw you.."

"Your manager. At the pool. He said you guys didn't come in to work today, so we got worried." Sadie retorted quickly. "Heather wasn't feel so hot today so we thought we'd take the day off to nurse her back to health." Dacre crossed his arms in front of him. "But you're feeling just fine right now,aren't you,Heather?" Heather gave off a forced smile before speaking, "I'm feeling so much better! Do you girls want a cookie?" Dacre stared back to Millie with an obnoxious look. "They're fresh out of the oven!" She offered the tray forward. "Cut!" The director yelled startling everyone. "Let's film Billy at the doorway then we will start with Heather's family!"

Dacre moved to the fake doorway they had created and stood in the window pane while a camera moved to focus in on him. "Action camera 1!" He exclaimed. The camera slowly moved in to Dacre's expressionless face, as it moved closer the look of pain came into his eyes. "Camera 2 start!" The director spoke from his chair. The second camera was close up on a record spinning around a vinyl player. The song it played was American Pie by Don McLean, it then moved to face Heather's mother who was eating one of the cookies Heather had made. Dacre joined them back at the table, "Is everything alright?" Heather questioned him as he took a seat in his previous chair. "Yes,everything is fine!" Dacre confirmed. "Your sister really didn't want to stay?" Heather's mother spoke finishing off the last of her dessert.

"No, she's just not,you know, really a people person." Dacre adjusted his chair forward, reaching for his silverware. "Well I just don't like the idea of them out there in the storm like that." "Oh they'll be fine!" Her husband spoke up shoveling his food in. Janet reached forward for her glass accidentally knocking it and the contents over. "I told you to slow down on that wine, Janet!" She rapidly cleaned up the stained table cloth. "You ok mommy?" Heather asked in concern. "Yes, I'm--I'm just feeling a little lightheaded is all." Dacre continued feeding his face showing no concern for the situation. "It's all the wine!" Tom spoke arrogantly. "I'm sorry um if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to go upstairs and lie down for a bit." Janet whipped off her lap before standing from the table.

Heather gave Dacre a deep stare as the sound of her mother collapsing in the living room startled her father. "Janet?" Tom stood to assist his wife. At this time Dacre was reaching under the table for a small brown bottle pouring its content onto the napkin he had been using. "Janet? Janet?" Tom dropped to his wife's side. "Janet! Call 9-1-1!" Heather reached for the bottle of wine as her and Dacre rose from the table.

As Tom looked back to get the attention of Heather he was blindsided by Heather swinging a bottle into his head, with a loud grunt he too fell to the ground. Even with wounded head he tried his hardest to crawl away as Dacre handed Heater the drenched napkin. Dacre leaned his arm against the wall observing Heather stomp her foot into her father's back and grab a fist full of hair yanking his head back to cover his mouth with the napkin. "I'm really sorry about this,Daddy,but it'll all be over soon I promise." Tom's screams where muffled by the towel smashed against his face as the camera moved back to Dacre devious expression.

"Cut!" The director yelled, his loud claps booming. "That was perfect guys! let's get everyone changed and get ready for the warehouse scene!" Everyone rose from their seats swiftly going out the doors to the golf carts that waited outside for them. "I have got to get changed you want to join me?" Dacre stepped towards Myra speaking quietly. "I'd love to but it looks like my help is needed getting things ready for this sauna scene.." She pointed to a section in the script, she saw the sadness on his face and replied with a smirk placing a kiss on his cheek. "Raincheck for later?"

"Raincheck for later!" He smirked, chewing on his lower lip.

#dacre x reader #dacre kayd montgomery #dacre montgomery #dacre imagine #dacre #dacre montgomery imagine #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #strangerthingsedit #Billy Hargrove #billyhargrove #hargrove #stranger things edit #robin buckley #joe keery #steve harrington

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physcoticfrog · 5 years ago

Text

(idk what to call this, pretend it's a good title)

Description: From birth, your quirk had always been different, coming with black bat-like wings, but what happens when they get ripped from you during childhood? (Your quirk is a bat, coming with echolocation, and the whole package. You even have big ol ears).

Pairing: Keigo Takami (Hawks) x reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and depression, swearing

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Past

"Honey where are your parents?" You heard a sickly sweet but soft voice ask you.

"I don't know". That was your only answer. You knew what was going to happen. You were just scared.

"Honey we should probably go down to the police station, they'll help you." How come people are so ignorant? All you can do is wait now, and not say anything more.

"Hi ma'am, this is my little sister, we'll be on our way now" you heard a man say. You knew this. So why were you so scared?

Moments turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours, to days. You ended up being their puppet. After all, you could do pretty much everything they needed. There was just a small problem. You couldn't leave.

All you could hear were your screams bouncing off of the walls of the room as your wings were ripped from your back. Searing pain seized down your back, causing you to cry out in pain.

Soon enough, it was over. A man wrapped your wings, or what was left of them, in order to not cause infection. You had now come to terms with the fact that you will never out live this. This is your family, this is a part of you. You can never leave.

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Present

"Wait what!? Really! Thank you dad!" You hugged him, because he had just told you you could leave if you wanted, and there would be hell to pay if you didn't come back, but you could leave nonetheless.

"Awee I wanna come with too Shig" You heard Toga complain. Toga was younger than you, about the age of a high-schooler. Not that you were much older, just older still.

"Dad please can you let her? We won't be long, I promise" Dad. Shigaraki. The one who raised you, even though he was your age. Some people might say he would be more like a big brother, but he was kind to you. More so than the others. He fed you, let you be a kid sometimes. He was like a father figure of a sorts, so, you've come to respect him.

"No, y/n, you know this. You can't go out there with her, they know who she is. They don't know you. Just don't pull any dumb shit". You could settle for that. That actually sounded really good. You were just really happy to see sunlight for the first time in your life, without having to be in the confines of a fence.

"Alright. Well, I'm gonna find a coffee shop, I wanna know what it tastes like. How about I'll be back by, say, umm, 4:30? Latest 5:00?" You asked. How could he say no to that? It was a win-win, because it's already around 2:45, and you don't know your way around the streets.

"Ok, fine go. Make sure you call me immediately if anything goes wrong. Be home safe, ok?" See? That's full out dad mode right there.

"Yes dad, I know the drill." You were almost bouncing out of the door when you were ready to go.

You were wearing your newest pair of clothes, of course, slightly stained but that's because Dabi, who is more like a brother to you, decided to steal them from a corner store. It was a black crop top, with two little holes cut in the back for the small nubs poking from your back. You had to convince Dabi to cut them for you, since you can't place where that at.

You also wore high-rise black jeans, and a belt that cinched your waist. Dabi knew you all too well, and knew that you've been wanting an outfit like that for a while. No rips in the jeans either, which was a surprise. You of course wore socks, but they had a lot of holes in them. But your shoes covered them perfectly. They were white and the went up past your ankle. You thought you looked perfect, especially for your first day out.

When, you stepped out, you quickly felt a breeze brush past your face, and it felt amazing. It was a true fresh breath of air. You walked around for a bit, and then saw it. There were people going in and out of it, but not as many as you thought.

When you walked in, you smelled something that almost smelled bitter, but sweet. Is it chocolate? Coffee maybe? You couldn't tell, since you never had either. When it was your turn to order, you picked the first thing that caught your eye. A chocolate drizzled frappuchino.

"U-um hi, can I get a chocolate drizzled f-frappuchino?" You said shyly, you're voice coming out more squeeky than you had thought. She was very kind, and said, well you don't really know what she said. It got drowned out by your thoughts.

Something caught your eye, it was a glance of red, almost like blood. Too much, like blood.

"Would you like a small, medium or large?". What? You had to choose? There's a difference? Oh no. Oh no oh nOoO. What do you say?

The lady must've noticed, and immediately said "Would you like a medium, it's perfect for if you want to stay but not for too long". You felt thankful that she said that, and you immediately nodded your head, heading over to the small waiting line.

You catch another glance of red, looking up immediately. You were stunned. He looked so familiar, your pretty sure you've seen him in the pictures from Shigaraki's plans. Then it clicked. All the information he told you about him.

Hero name: Hawks. Actual name : Keigo Takami. Quirk: Fierce wings, he can fly, and telepathically control the feathers that he uses. Number two fucking hero. Great. Now Dad definitely will want you back home. But for now you leave it alone, and don't pay much mind to it. You want to enjoy your first day out.

When a different lady calls your name from the counter, you walk over and take the cup and the straw. There is a fluffy substance on top, along with what you think is chocolate drizzled into the cup. You put the straw in the cup and felt at peace. You then took a sip. It's absolutely divine.

You look away for a second, and then you notice Keigo walking towards you, but you pretend to not see him and make your way towards a table.

"Hi there, you must be new around this place." You freeze. He's talking to you. Right here. Right now.

"Um, yeah I- I don't really come around this city much." You lie. You've been around plenty of times. Just not as many outside as in.

"Oh, well this place has the best coffee, anywhere in Japan, so I think you're in luck. You should come around here more often. By the way, I'm Hawks. But you can call me Takami." He said, a smile on his face. Not smug or anything, just content. Something you're not used to doing.

"U- uh okay. My dad normally doesn't let me out of the house much. I guess you can call me y/l/n." You say, not lying, but not giving the entire truth.

And then you remember it. You're wings. His wings. The way he glanced at your back when you turned away. Shit, why do you let yourself get so carried away.

"O-oh well I should get going then, I have a bad habit of over sharing." You say, that odd feeling of over sharing. But before you can leave he says,

"I'm all ears if you've got time". This time it was a familiar smile. It was a smug one almost cocky. You debated it, hit decided it would be fine, as long as you don't mention the League.

Once you start rambling he is interested, watching intently as you talk. Him asking the occasional question. And then there it was, that question. "Hey, I know it's odd but I noticed your back. It looks like there were wings there, because it looks similar to when I use all my feathers in a fight. If you don't want to explain you don't have to." He said. You started shaking. Do I want to? I'd this ok? You thought.

"Well, it's a really long story. But when I was younger, my uh... Uncles, ripped off my wings. They were afraid I would leave them. I would fly away. I wanted to become a hero, by that was torn away with my wings." You say.

"Oh wow. You know, it's ok, right? That you might now have them. Who knows, they might even grow back!" He said cheerfully.

"actually..." He stopped once you started talking, "the doctor said if they don't grow back in ten years they will never show up again. It's been 15 years. But it's ok. Who knows I may just sprout some wings soon." You say trying to be sarcastic. Because in all reality, you don't know.

"Well, I hope to see you around. Ask your dad if we can meet up again soon." Hold on. How did the number two pro hero just ask you to hangout again?

"Maybe. My- my Dad is actually pretty strict, and he doesn't really like the idea.." You take a deep breath. "..of Heroes." You say, almost quietly. You really wanted to hang out, but just couldn't. Probably. "Wait! Hold up- I could just say I'm going out for coffee instead of meeting up with you!" You decided to say. A little more enthusiastic than you wanted.

"That works!" He said, matching your energy.

You guys continued to talk, about anything and everything. By the time 4:00 rolled around, you had decided on two days from today. At the same time. About 3:15.

When you headed back, it was 4:30 on the spot. The only issue: He was there. Hawks.

"What are you doing here?!" You whispered. This was no place for a hero. Especially Hawks. He couldn't take everyone on without dying.

"Same question to you." He whispered back.

"I'll explain at the café" you told him. What else were you supposed to do? Talk to him freely now?

"Dad, what's he doing here?" You said, talking about Hawks. You could tell that he knew who you were talking about.

"He's just here... For business." You weren't buying it, but what choice did you have?

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Two days later

"Hey.." You start. You know he knows. And he knows you know. You were just hoping you two could explain it all today.

"Hi." He said. He had no expression in his face. He normally wore a smile or a light hearted expression. But this was different. There was no smile. It was blank. Unreadable.

"So, I'm going to get straight to the point. I live there. That is my home. I don't have a choice. I didn't get to 'join' them. When I was about 4 or 5 years old, and my parents had died. They died because of a car crash. Apparently, they worked with the villains. A man, who might have been in his thirties took me to the hideout. After about a year, I went out through the door to see what the sun was like. They didn't like that." You continued. "Then they ripped off my wings. I still have all of my abilities, but nothing more. That's why I stay. If I leave, they will hunt me down. I want to leave, but I can't. Shigaraki- he's like my dad. He is only a few months older than me, but he still cared for me when no one else did. He helped me. And I won't judge you for being there either since I don't know your story. I just want to know why you, of all people, the number two fucking hero, was there." That's all you said. You stopped. And waited for him to say something.

Soon enough, his voice came out smooth, and soft. Not judging. But still serious, and him. "I'm working there- shit I'm really not supposed to tell anyone this." He took a deep breath. "I'm a spy. I'm not truly working for them, but I have to make it seem like it. Im only surprised, because I have never seen you there. Not once until yesterday. I truly am dedicated to being a hero, which is why I'm working with the league. I don't truly want to, but it helps the hero cause. Where have you been? How come I haven't ever seen you?" He asked. You answered.

"Dad doesn't like me being around for the meetings. He makes me go upstairs, and I stay there until he tells Toga or Dabi to come get me. I'm not part of the front line team. I'm the brains behind it. I have no choice but to plan it all out. The only reason I continue, is because I don't know how to stop."

That's how your 45 minute "date" went. Back and forth you two had questions and answers. You decided on meeting up every two days. Same time, same place.

Again, here you two are. Talking. And even laughing. Which you hadn't done since you were a teenager. "Yeah, I don't know where he thinks he'll get keeping me in my room, I can still hear everything. Just faintly. Can't make out individual voices."

He looked playfully dramatic shocked. "Now my quirk looks weak compared to yours." What? He really thought that? You felt a blush creep on to your cheeks.

"R- Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, in the best of ways, you literally are a bat. Everything about you. Except for, well, you."

"But how is my quirk better than yours?"

"Sweetheart, I literally can only fly and use my feathers. Even then, the more feathers I use the more difficult it is for me to fly." Really? There was more to it, you were sure. Wait- did he just call you sweetheart? The blush that crept on to your cheeks was a dark shade of pink.

"There's gotta be at least s-some speed boost o-or something, right?" The conversation continued, up until it was time for you to leave.

"Oh, and y/l/n, your wings are growing again." He said with a happy smile.

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

A/n: this might become a series, so stay tuned I guess. Bye for now 🙃

#hawks #hawks x reader #am i doing this right?#plot twist?

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cyberdva · 5 years ago

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Lost Grieving- Richie Tozier X Reader {Chapter 1☆}

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Summary- The reader gets stuck in strange implications and finds herself in Derry, Maine, the location of the infamous Steven King book ‘IT’. Unknowingly she stumbles across the Neibolt House, the dirty and burnt remains of a tragic fire. She remembers what horrors had happened and is hesitant to stay. What will happen when she runs into the one and only Losers Club? What will they do if the strange new girl claiming to be from another universe, tells them they’re all made up characters from a book? Will she help them ‘defeat’ the morbid Pennywise or give up and be lost in perishable hell forever, filled with lost grieving. Proceed with caution when you drive into this tale of horror, humor, and a handful of twisted romance with Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Main Masterlist

IT Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1 (+)

Chapter 2

Word Count: 2k

Date Uploaded: 10/17/19

A/N: The first chapter got so much love, so I knew I had to write the next chapter ASAP!! Thank you guys so much!! Also the long italicised paragraphs is an excerpt from the book to put into perspective the problem from a background source, kind of like an example basically.

Warnings: Cursing

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

“Excuse me?” the small boy peered up at me, he picked up what seemed to be an inhaler. He didn’t have his signature cast yet, I was here before most of the catastrophe. How should I approach him, there’s no way I’m telling him directly, he wouldn’t believe me. What the hell should I tell him then? He stared at me like I was crazy, taking a step back for good measure. I mean I don’t blame him, I look like I’ve been rolling in the dirt. I panicked, it was going to happen one way or another.

“Uh, I think I’m lost.” It was a simple explanation, he kept looking at me, like I had five heads.

He gave me a swift look of disgust, probably since I was covered in dirt. “I’m sorry my mom told me not to talk to strangers.” Shit. He was the germaphobe, eternally clung to his mother’s side, until she dies at sixty-six.

“I’m sorry, I need to get home.” He brushed past me and jumped at the sudden contact, his pills flooded out from his fanny pack and piled onto the ground. Some rolled forwards while most of them flew in different directions. An abundance of different pill bottles fell next, the short boy looked at the now germ infested medicine in horror.

I didn’t know what to do,”Do you want my help or would you prefer me not to touch?” He dropped to the ground and sorted pills by color and stuffing them back into the right tube.

“How do I know that you’re not some psychopath that could kill me?”

“Um, I don’t know.”

“Fair point, just grab the red ones. Be careful my mom will flip of she figures out what just happened.”

Ah, Mrs.Kaspbrak, a woman that completely overprotects her child to the point of isolation and creates illnesses just to keep him ‘safe.’ I thought of the book, how it showed his mom slowly incasing his youth in a small orange pill bottle.

Eddie gasped. He could see a foot floating inside a shole filled with green smoke. The bones in his foot! He crossed his great big toe over his second toe and the eldritch bones in the scope made an X that was not white, but goblin-green. He could see-

His mother shrieked, a rising sound of panic cut through the quiet shoe store like a runaway reaper-blade, like a firebell, like doom on horseback. He jerked his startled, dismayed face out of the viewer and saw her pelting towards him across the store in her stocking feet, her dress flying out behind her. She knocked a chair over and one of those shoe-measuring things that always tickled his feet went flying. Here bosom heaved. Her mouth was a scarlet O of horror. Faces turned to follow her progress.

“Eddie get off there!” she screamed. “Get off there!” Those machines give you cancer! Get off there! Eddie! Eddieee-!”

I remember that chapter, I felt so bad for Eddie and yet I’m here ‘talking’ to him. Reality keeps straying quicker and quicker away from me. Next thing you know I’ll be fooling around with the damn Losers Club. As fun as that seems I had ongoing worry, is my mom ok? Will I be ok? Am I in a coma?

I couldn’t stop thinking about my fate, could I be dying. Is this the last moment I’ll spend until my time is up. In Derry, Maine! The ‘shittiest place on earth.’ After all these murders and that clown rampaging in the sewers I see why the town was coined the title.

Most importantly to the subject, why does Eddie have so many pills? We began to pick each up out of the sorting it didn’t take long to pick them all up. No eye contact was made, my chances were dialing, if anyone could help me with this phenomena it would be the clown-fighting teens.

Eddie looked around, “I’m missing one.” How the hell does he know that. Lurking silence was downed upon us as we glanced around a grim voice cut in.

“Do you think this will help me, Eddie?”

We whipped our heads above us, a creature will drool castading out from its mouth crouched holding the last red pill. Its hair was knotted, ratty. Lumps and sores were plucked all over its thin and lanky body. There was no nose, horrible retching sounds came out of it as it inhaled and exhaled. Ripped cloth adorned the body, bandages came as a pair. A huge pile of them were attached to its left ‘foot.’ A moan escaped his mouth area, Eddie groaned. The two of us scattered as we ran from the monster. I remembered this from the newer movie and book, IT is here, he found us. How can I even see it, only people affected by….. Shit. The monster got up and limped towards us, we were cornered. I was racked with fear, tears filled my eyes and my vision was inconceivable. It screamed and retched as we ran towards the dirty Neibolt house. The makeshift cast banged against the ground with such force and rhythm, he was on our tails.

Eddie made sure to check back to see if he was dreaming or not, his nerves got the best of him and he kept tripping. A few tears escaped my eyes, I couldn’t be scared isn’t that what the clown wants? I know I couldn’t die from this, but if I see IT what will stop me from just that. We reached a fence, the screaming stopped, as did the banging. I glanced behind me. This can’t be real.

Above all the grass and weeds was what you could only read about, what you could only dream about, something that you should never see in real life. It should’ve been a fictional character, in a book, but there it was, right in front of me. That’s when I realized I can’t go back, how can I wake up from this, it’s real. It has to be.

Pennywise the Dancing Clown.

Rows of red, rubbery balloons covered his face. His white clown outfit hung in ruffles with three red pom-poms. The balloons went above his head, disappearing into oblivion. A crooked smile was slapped across his face. ‘Just Kill me now.’ I thought. It was him, down to the makeup and hair. Eddie was petrified.

“Where ya going Eds?” His voice made a shiver go up my spine. “Shouldn’t you be home by now?”

The clown looked over to me, “And you, Y/N. You can’t go home, can you?” He giggled. What does he mean, why can’t I go home. I want to be in bed, waiting for that last day of school.

“Come join the clown Eds.” Eddie looked at me. “You’ll float down here.” IT shrugged his shoulders.

“We all float down here. Yes we do!”

A shrill laugh came out of its mouth, why did this have to happen to me! Eddie screamed and I followed him as we ran through a fence parting. His breaths were choppy, the boy fell once more and the sound of a balloon popping was all that was left.

He glanced back at me, “Please tell me you saw that too.”

#eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier imagines #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #it #it ch 1 #pennywise #richie tozier x you

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duker42 · 5 years ago

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💜The Tea Shop Part 2💜 Levi x Reader

Part 1 Here!

Levi’s POV:

Y/N trailed behind me out of the shop, griping Harry’s small hand in a comforting way. I look back to see Y/N smile. “Okay! Harry, we need to get you some new clothes and get you cleaned up.” The boy looked up at her, confused. “New clothes? I’ve never had them before.” The look that flashes across her face speaks to her compassion. I notice small tears build up in her eyes. She shakes her head, as if to clear memories from it. I watch her, fascinated.

Walking into a nearby shop, Y/N quickly purchased a new set of clothes and shoes to fit the boy. The boy walks out, proudly holding the box as he questions Y/N. “Why couldn’t I wear them now?” Her clear, bright laughter filled the air. “Harry, you need a very good scrubbing before you put on clean clothes. You look worse than I do after an expedition!” His small giggle warmed warmed my heart, but I grimace, she usually is a dirty brat when we come back into the walls.

“Oi, come on. I know a bath house where we can clean the kid.” I hear myself offer as I turn and walk away. Upon reaching the establishment, I walk in and ask for a private bathing room and towels. After being shown to the bathing room, I remove my jacket and roll my sleeves. I start getting the tub ready while Y/N convinced Harry that he needed this bath and no one was going to hurt him. I think back to my own childhood and frown as I prepare to scrub this dirty urchin.

Coaxing the young child into the bath was hard, but once he hit the water, he played and rubbed the bubbles on himself, giggling. Y/N’s soft smile, almost motherly, took me by surprise. She seemed to actually care about the boy’s well being. “What do you plan to do once the boy is clean Y/N? You can’t take him back to HQ.” I murmured while scrubbing Harry’s hair for the forth time. “I have a place he can go, he will be well taken care of, Captain.” She replied, breaking eye contact with me.

Y/N’s POV:

The Captain looks a bit startled at my reply. I brace myself for the barrage of questions, but hearing none, I look up to see the handsome raven haired man just looking at me. Sighing, I give in to the unspoken demand of his eyes. “I grew up quite wealthy. I was raised by my uncle, who had no children, when my parents died. He never seemed to care for me, besides making sure my needs were met. He just needed me to keep the family money, I guess. I was free to go and do as I pleased. I spent a lot of time roaming the streets of Sina. One day I met my best friend, Sven. He was an orphan that was running away from those disgusting places they kept quote ‘unwanted brats’. He saved me from getting the shit beat out of me by a group of older kids. I realize now that I could have very easily have been just like Sven, if I didn’t have my Uncle. I brought Sven home with me and snuck him into the house. It was a month before it was discovered, and in that time, we had bonded like brother and sister. He had planned to join the Scouts when he was of age, wanted to venture beyond the walls. He taught me how to defend myself, how to spot liars, and how to believe in myself. We were going to take on the world together and defeat the titans. God, we were so naive.” I look at Harry, his hair starting shine under the Captain’s scrubbing. Levi pulls the drain plug on the tub to release the dirty water. Refilling it, he begins to scrub the little boys body, washing the grime from him. Piercing me with his stormy grey eyes, he motions for me to continue. “When my uncle found out some quote ‘street rat’ was staying in his home, he went berserk. He sent Sven back to that hellish orphanage, and no amount of begging or crying would change his mind. He locked me in my room for a week as punishment. When I finally got out of there, I found out that he.....had been beaten to death by the caretakers. I was devastated.” Tears began to fall as I looked away from the boy being scrubbed by my fierce Captain.

“I later found out that he had been beaten to death for stopping the caretaker from violating one of the little girls there. She told me how Sven had saved her that night. When my uncle died, I took my family fortune and I bought the orphanage. I had the caretakers thrown in jail, and proceeded to set it up the way I thought it should be. A loving environment, safe, where children can grow up without worrying about being abused or hungry. Harry, here, will have a chance, a chance that Sven never had. And I joined the Scouts, fulfilling his dream, our dream, of traveling outside the walls.” I stop as I feel a hand grasp my chin, turning my head back towards his penetrating gaze. “You are a good person, Y/N. Most people in Sina would turn a blind eye to cruelty of the world. You are striving to make a change within these shitty walls. That is no small task.” I feel myself blush profusely at his praise.

“There, the brat is somewhat clean. Could use another scrubbing...” Levi grumbles as he releases the bathtub drain for the last time. I snort with laughter as he gives me a hard look. “Captain, the poor boy is raw right now. Let his skin recover!” Huffing, he lifts Harry out of the tub, wrapping him in a large clean towel. The moment Harry’s feet hit the ground, he sprints over to the bench where the packages are waiting. “Y/N! Can I wear my new clothes now???” The little scamp grins as he looks up at me with puppy eyes. “Yes, Harry, lets get you dressed and then we will go to see your new home.” His little eyes widen in excitement and fear as he gleefully rips into the package to pull out his stiff new clothes. Helping him get dressed, I listen to him exclaim over every new item as the Captain cleans up and puts his outfit back to rights.

Leaving the bathhouse, I lead the two down familiar streets until we come to a large private estate, a fence surrounding the property. “This is where I am going to stay???” Harry’s eyes widen as he takes in the large stone front of the house and giggling children running around in the sunshine.

Levi’s POV:

I take in the obvious wealth that comes with an estate like this. It’s like a home Isabel would have wanted to burglarize when we came to the surface. I watch as Y/N goes to the side gate, walking through confidently. There are several kids, running and laughing in the sunshine, lighthearted and free. I follow behind as I push Harry through gently. Looking at how Y/N carried herself and how frugal she was with her Scout’s pay, no one would ever believe she had grown up in this house. Walking through the garden, a woman around Y/N’s age met us at a table where she was setting out afternoon snacks for the kids. “Y/N! We weren’t expecting you today! What a lovely surprise!” The gentle woman greets Y/N warmly as she rushes over to pull her in for a quick hug. “Sandra, you look as lovely as ever! How is everyone?” Y/N smiles fondly as the lady is quick to look behind her and see Harry and I. “Everyone is fantastic. I see you have brought us a new addition to our happy home. Have you also brought a beau by?” She coyly asks. My eyes widen slightly at the idea of courting Y/N. “Sandra! No this is my squad leader, Captain Levi. Captain Levi, this is headmistress Sandra. She oversees the orphanage for me. This young man beside him is Harry. We became friends this morning. Harry, please come say hi to a friend of mine.” Harry came forward shyly, but quickly warmed up to the effervescent woman. I nod and say a quick hello as I take in the obvious closeness between the two women.

Staying for tea time, I listen as Sandra and Y/N caught up on the happenings around the orphanage. One of the older children, a girl named Andrea, was adopted last week and seemed to be settling in nicely with her new family. “When will the next home check be, Sandra?” I hear as I stir my fresh cup of tea. I shift in my seat as my interest is piqued. I have never heard of such a thing. Home visits? Checking on the kids after they left the orphanage? This is really showing the true nature of Y/N and the people she put in charge. “We will make a surprise visit in two weeks, Y/N. Don’t worry, the Andersons are a wonderful couple. They were never able to have children of their own, so they sought us out. Andrea is in a good home.” A knowing look flashes across Sandra’s face as she watches the children playing in the garden. Harry has quickly taken to the new kids, running around with them. I clear my throat before asking “Sandra is the girl that Sven saved, isn’t she?” “Yes, I am Captain Levi. You are a very perceptive man.” She smiles. “I see why she likes you.” Sputtering, Y/N chokes on her tea, turning red from embarrassment and the lack of air. I calmly lean over and whack her on the back a few times, my face neutral but my heart racing.

After saying goodbye to Harry, we make our way off the grounds, walking silently on the streets. Glancing over at Y/N, she seems reluctant to start a conversation with me, shy from the previous conversations revelations. “I need to find a new tea shop, Y/N. Would you like to accompany me?” I ask as I cut my eyes over to her, watching. Smiling brightly, she hooks her arm around mine. “Lead the way, sir!”

“Try not to ruin this one Y/N.”

“No promises....”

The End.

Mobile MasterList

#aot fanfiction #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi aot #snk levi #captain levi #levi ackerman x reader #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #levi x reader #levi heichou #snk fanfiction

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hot-tea-gardenparty · 5 years ago

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Title: Moments

Author: coffeeforcastiel

Rating: Mature

Length: 1,105

Pairings: Dean x Castiel, Destiel

Warnings: Mild sexual content

Summary: What I imagine could happen in the daily life of our two hunter boyfriends following the downfall of Chuck in S15.

Note: I am honestly just testing the waters here with a short example of my writing to see what kind of reception (if any) it gets. I've been out of the fanfiction writing business for many years due to adulting, but recently I've been itching to write again. This is just a drabble I quickly typed out over the past few days when I had the chance, so this isn't really meant to go anywhere or really be...solid. It's just weird daydreams I have had that I decided to put on paper.

Dean was covered in brown goo. Brown, smelly, slimy, all too gag-inducing goo that had been lining the walls of the garbage dump cave dwelling of a hygiene ignorant shapeshifter. A shapeshifter that, once shot by a buck round from Castiel’s sawed-off, splattered it’s loose-skinned body in every single direction.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean grimaced, running a hand down his face and watching the slime slip down between his fingers to the muddy floor. “I got some in my mouth!”

Rolling his eyes and shrugging in return, Castiel tiredly dropped his gun barrel down against his muddy leg, “Would you rather you’d been attacked?”

“Dude, chunks of his skin is in my hair.” With a shiver, Dean looked over to Castiel, noticing he hadn’t fared all that well either, goo and muck weighing down his new black leather jacket and smooshed across the front of his blue plaid button up.

“You’re welcome.” Castiel sighed.

Prying his sopping boots up out of the mud, Dean motioned to Castiel, pushing them to move towards the exit of the not-so-deep cave. Castiel fell into line next to Dean, watching in amusement as Dean continued to fuss with his appearance until they reached the slightly sunlit opening of the cave. It was finally dawn. They had been out hunting this shapeshifter for over 12 hours.

“We should hurry and get out of here before the morning shift starts.” Castiel stated as he squinted under the glare of the rising sun, trying to make out the distant shape of the dump’s front entrance sign.

Dean nodded his agreement, pointing the way with the butt of his gun, fingers prying at a fruit sticker currently glued to the side of his neck.

Ten minutes and a painful climb over a sharp metal fence later and they were back in the Impala, albeit not until after Dean had laid out a scrap blanket for them to sit on.

The Impala roared to life and quickly rumbled out the back entrance to the trash yard, the harsh right turn onto the pot-holed gravel road leaving Dean to wince as a fresh cut oozed against the pull of skin under his shirt and near his belly button.

“We’re getting too old for this shit.” Was all he said.

***************************************************

“Why does this matter again?” Castiel asked from the bed, his large arms crossed over his naked chest, a flimsy white motel sheet covering the rest of his exposed body.

Dean scoffed from across the room while he gripped tighter to a long, tan trench coat he’d recently bought at a thrift store, the tags still attached to the floppy lapel. “Just humor me.”

A soft smile tugged at Castiel’s lips, hindering the harsh effect of a deep eye roll. Dean had been the one to tell him to lose the trench coat once he lost his angelic grace, to push him to ‘change up the duds a bit, be more human’ and yet now, he wants to put him right back into the same old outfit.

“Just admit,” Castiel started, getting up from the bed and walking bare across the thread-bare hotel carpet to grab at the coat and hold it up to the ceiling light, “You have a fetish for the old coat.”

“Maybe.” Dean shrugged, his mind too preoccupied with a very naked boyfriend looking over a cheap-ass coat like it was the contents of a witch’s hex bag, to formulate a coherent reply. It amazed Dean to no end watching Castiel truly embrace being human this go around, being content with the body he had and appreciating the feelings that came with it.

Immediately following the big battle with Chuck, Castiel had been beaten and bloody, his clothes ripped and torn to pieces. With no grace to assist in their repair, and with Sam and Dean both horrendously unskilled in the art of sewing, Cas had had no other choice but to replace his once daily outfit with Dean’s hand-me-downs and random findings from the nearby Wal-Mart.

All in all, Dean loved Castiel’s ‘new look’, but there was still the random moments where he missed the routine and comforting appearance of the crooked tie, white shirt and baggy trench coat had given him. That look was all Cas, uniquely Cas…his Cas. Soft dark brown hair, piercing blue eyes, tinted caramel skin, ill-fitting suit and a stupid tan coat. That was him.

Although, Castiel’s tight new pair of Levi’s were never a distraction Dean would complain about.

Speaking of distraction… “Cas, are you serious?”

The new trench coat was now fitted perfectly over Castiel’s shoulders, his naked body almost completely covered by the two front lapels. With a chuckle, Castiel looked up at Dean in amusement, “What? Did you change your mind? Should I forgo the coat?”

“Uhm…” Dean stuttered and cleared his throat, mind once again faltering at the…intriguing…image in front of him, “No…nah…uhm, still suits you.”

Dean could feel his heartbeat start to race as Castiel casually walked up to him, a soft smile on his lips and the trench coat swinging with his gait, revealing tantalizing strips of skin as he moved.

Once their chests were about to touch, Castiel leaned forward, bringing his lips to Dean’s ear, his voice low and seductive as he whispered, “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

Static shudders cascaded down Dean’s skin as he slid a warm finger into the slit in the front of Castiel’s coat, bumping and brushing teasingly down the smooth skin of his partner’s chest and the slight dip of his stomach. Castiel’s bright eyes were focused solely on Dean’s as his head pulled away slightly, the intensity of his gaze holding firm even as Dean’s hands and fingers continued to stroke and tease under the shadow of the coat.

Castiel finally leaned in and pressed his lips to Dean’s a heartbeat later, the kiss full of heat and sticky-sweet promise as they wrapped their arms around each other.

Dean slid his hands fully under the coat, finally smoothing them down the firm muscle of Castiel’s backside, “Dean…” Castiel gasped, “Dean, wait, your pocket’s vibrating.”

Stopping his ministrations but keeping his left palm filled with Castiel’s skin, Dean groaned as he pulled his phone from his right pocket, eyeing the reminder he’d set on his phone earlier the previous day.

“Check out’s in ten.” Dean huffed as he slid the phone back into his pocket, his arms coming back to fully encase his boyfriend once again.

Castiel chuckled, softly kissed Dean’s temple and took a deep breath, “Guess I need to put pants on then?”

#destiel #dean x castiel #deanxcas #dean winchester x castiel #destiel fanfiction #destiel short fiction #drabble #destiel fic #fanfiction #i am so nervous #i hope you all like it enough #no one will read this but...whatever

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tfw-no-tennis · 5 years ago

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hxh RESUME

back at it again w/the hxh, heres my recap of the last few eps

ok so i totally forgot to recap that one ep at the end of the hunter exam arc lets see what i remember from like 3 wks ago lollll

i thiiiiink i left off in the middle of ep 21 lol. i really dont remember much tbh so im gonna skim the ep to refresh

exposition time! its so wild that if you lose ur hunter card That It like u cant get another or retake the exam hgabjdfuhasjf Ls

also the fact that you can sell it is rlly interesting

leorio & kurapika backing up gon as he confronts illumi again :’) good lil family

illumi u fool. gon is a shounen protag. he can do anything he sets his mind to

the fact that gon thanks illumi for telling him where killua is....hes literally THAT polite like...what a perfect boy

hisoka just fuckgin stepping out of the shadows....ok bitch

the fact that gon fucked up illumis arm that bad with one hand....boi is STRONK

AUGH AUGH AUGHHHH HISOKA IS SO CREEPY AUGHHH I HATE THIS BIIIITCH

ok but like is illumi implying that hisoka is a fr p*do bc uhhhhh thats so nasty oh lord. pls stay away from gon, and killua, and like everyone as a matter of fact

EWWWWWWWWWW I HATE HISOKA HES SO NASTY. PLS STOP MAKING P*RNO FACES IN RELATION TO 12 YR OLD BOYS.

no but rlly what IS hisoka gonna do now. im assuming he’ll show up p soon (tho probs not in the zoldyc arc like i thought bc its shorter than i thought)

ok the fact that they have the internet is hilariously wild to me for some reason....it just seems like this would be one of those fantasy shounen worlds with very little tech (a la one piece) but lol nope we can just google shit hvbhjdhjdfks

gon: it was fun when you beat me up for 3 hours and broke my arm! seeya dude!

i love gon he is so chill and doesnt seem to hold grudges except when it really matters (like hisoka and illumi)

hanzo has.....ninja business cards....thats amazing hvbhsdjkujfnd

dont worry pokkle, leorio was basically carried thru the hunter exam by various people and also won by default. he still deserves his license tho

an exotic game hunter sounds pretty cool! i wonder if we’ll see pokkle again. kinda doubt it? that sounds pretty firmly non-combat based, and therefore probably pretty far from any plot lol

so gons dad is a bigshot huh.....whatever hed be a bigger deal if he didnt abandon his son tbh

gon swinging his feet on the bench....sooo cute

so ging could restore a bunch of ruins but he couldnt raise his son...ok

im just gonna be bitter at this guy for abandoning the most perfect boy vhbhjfbsjhdhbfsk sorry dude but being a good hunter doesnt make up for being a shit father

gon is so precious ;_;

WHAT WAS SATOTZ GONNA SAY TO GON???

why does it look like theyre googling things on MS paint

ah yes, padokea, on the continent of Africa But Sideways

idk if i talked abt it before but the world map is WILD lmao i love how its all the continents/landmasses scrambled around.....im super curious abt that weird island in the top center of the map, thats the only thing that immediately sticks out as not having a real life equivalent

the music in this show is so charming :’) i love the main theme sm

gon is sooo precious i literally cant get over it. and his hurry to rescue killua is so sweet....and i love how naturally charming/charismatic gon is....pretty much everyone he meets likes him, especially leorio and kurapika, who basically adopted him after knowing him for like a day, and continue to be completely taken by him

ok wtf is satotz & co talking abt......do they know something abt ging that they arent allowed to tell gon???? shouldnt gon have access to the same info now that hes a hunter? i need ANSWERS

i bet this whole thing abt the hunter exam not rlly being over is a metaphor abt the hunter exam NEVER truly ending bc youre always being tested, or st

ok the ED continues to be So Much like especially the last shot where the 4 main characters look like theyre posing for a JC Penny catalog while the singer goes FULL metal-screamo

ok ruth and i just rewatched the next two eps woohoo

i love that there are tourist busses that take people to the front gates so they can like pose for pics and stuff vhbhjafdsfkj and its like ‘ah yes here are where the local assassins live!’ thats so funny yet it makes so much sense

i love that leorio passed tf out during the bus ride. big big mood

gon is so cute...hes like ok yes i understand that we’re not supposed to go in but i think they can make an exception for me bc im very polite.

those 2 dudes r so ugly and so dead god bless

that bigass buster sword....sir please

ruth and i rlly thot that the old guard guy was gonna turn out to be grandpa zoldyk or st lol

the fact that the dog managed to eat All their flesh but left some clothes....skill

also the dog is named mike but it sounds like the guy is calling him miku hvbjdfssk

this cant be the first time some morons have been killed here likeeee

i cant believe nobody has visited the zoldyk estate in 20 years damn they all rlly b havin no friends. depressing

the whole gates thing is wild. also that part where gon gets the math wrong on the weight.....BIG mood kiddo

ok the part where gons on the phone w/the butler is soooo good oh man. i love how gon just calmly dials the phone again after hes hung up on the first time and then YELLS....and leorio and kurapikas faces r so good

also the butler guy unfortunately has a point, it isnt foolproof that gon is here Legit....but he IS let him see his tiny bf :(

as ruth pointed out, the butler guy is reminiscent of kuro from one piece. same vibes

maybe if leorio was jacked like he is in the manga/1999 anime he couldve opened the gate that first time around....Ls

god i love this shows approach to Everything so far,....as ruth put it, half the time its like ‘oh wow they should do [x]/i wish theyd do [x] but ofc they wont cause its a shounen’ but then they DO do [x] and its like damn thats dope

anyways i love how gon is increasingly approaching situations with his Plucky Shounen Protag Attitude in full swing, and he pretty much gets shot down every time. BUT his general determination to see killua bc killuas his FRIEND and hes gonna RESCUE HIM is still a good and pure motivating force

like here, when hes climbing over the wall and hes like whatever i dont wanna have to deal w/being tested thats bullshit, i wanna see killua, my intentions are pure, im gonna try my luck with the dog....i was like ok yeah he’ll get over and like tame or defeat the dog and the guard will be suitably impressed bc nobodys ever done That before, and then gon will continue on to get killua

but NOPE instead the guard calls him down and explains that gon Will Die if he tries that, and then the guard will die too for letting that happen. and gon is like oh shit my actions have consequences for people other than me, wow.

and THEN the guard takes them in to meet the dog. and hot DAMN that is a scary creature. not even really a dog tbh. they did an excellent job making the dog Legit Scary and not just like, big and flashy looking....those eyes are so soulless, and the proportions are freaky

and the guard says exactly what i was thinking - that gon would use his Country Boy Woodland Creature Skills to workaround the dog....but then the subversion - this creature is NOTHING like the woodland critters gon is probably used to dealing with. theres no way gon stood a chance here. the guard just saved him from a really unfortunate death

i love all the Super Heavy Stuff in the servant house that seems so inconvenient vbhjdkfasjfld. also forgot to mention earlier but the guard guy being Absolutely Ripped was wild and kinda funny

training montage! gon continues to be so cute. and i love so much how leorio and kurapika are like no, you rest, we’ll take care of this. good parents!!!!

and then!!!! they sync up and use the power of gay love to almost open the gate. but then gon uses the power of Improbable Shounen Protag Healing Speed to toss that arm sling off and help out

i feel like leorio was side-eyeing gon like w8 a sec u broke that arm like a few days ago that aint right.....

oh man i almost forgot abt that scene with the zoldyks torturing killua :( :( this poor kid he doesnt deserve that

also mom zoldyck seems truly awful but i must say her aesthetic does fuck. the victorian-lookin outfit paired with the futuristic cyclops visor thing....excellent. also im betting this face bandages are from killua cutting her face

this family is so fucked up hvbsjdhjfbakdfn

killua telling his mom that gon is definitely gonna make it there :’) hes got such unshakable faith in his bf thats so good.....

back w/the gang, and immediately they run into more trouble in the form of the young girl butler, whose name i dont know, but i love her....her design is SO good oh man. a non-caricature black person? who also isnt sexualized? in MY anime??????

i love how gons approach to conflict is currently ‘let more powerful person beat me up for hours straight in hopes that they get tired or something idk bro’ like....i love him lol, is it in an effort to show how determined he is? he doesnt even try to dodge her blows or get around her....id be tryin to hop that fence lol

oh shit the tiny zoldyk kid from earlier is spying on them....she was w/the mom so im sure thats not good

when he punches the rock part and it breaks....strong boiiii

oh man that little flashback from when killua first came back and told her that he made a friend ;_; bruh

i love butler girl :( she wants to let gon but knows it isnt allowed....and as soon as she starts to waver BAM here comes mom zoldyck JFC that was so sudden and jarring....im assuming butler girl isnt dead cause that would be lame and anticlimactic

also IS THAT NEN??? NEN>>>??? NEN??? HM? NEN?????????

im so annoying abt nen i need to make one of those ‘is this a pigeon?’ memes w/’is this nen?’ bc thats me anytime anything remotely weird happens lmao

i do think its rlly nen this time tho

anyways shit is wild, cant wait to meet the full zoldyck family

PREDICTION CORNER:

as i said above i doubt hisoka will show up now bc this arc is a lot shorter than i anticipated. also im doubting that illumis even gonna show up honestly

i think we’re gonna have this OP for a while, as the part just at the end shows gon and hisoka fighting in what looks to be an arena, and ik the next arc is the heavens arena arc, which im assuming is the tournament arc....

also i have no idea what that weird building in the OP is but my guess is that its the building w/the heavens arena in it bc its tall and,,,,heaven

i predict there wont be much fighting in this little arc bc how tf else is it so short. at this point i rlly think gon is just gonna grab killua and go lmao. im super curious abt how thats gonna go down, considering that killua is currently strung up just bc he wont apologize...so i cant imagine his family would just let him leave w/gon. i wonder if killua will fight them, or if gons determination will impress them and then theyll let killua go (doubt it)

thats basically it....we’ll see abt the next few eps holla

#lj watches hxh #hxh #woohoo continuation

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how-to-survive-a-factory-tour · 5 years ago

Text

How To Survive A Factory Tour - Chapter 15

A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory FanFiction

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By the time the elevator stops, I feel like I’m going to puke. I hardly paid attention to what Wonka was telling us about all the rooms we passed, too busy counting myself through breathing exercises. Travelling that fast without safety harnesses has to be illegal.

I stumble out the glass death trap, taking a deep breath. I jump a little as a hand is put on my shoulder, but relax as the person speaks.

“You okay?” Roman asks. I nod.

“Y-yeah, just a little shaken from the ride…” I stand up straight, fiddling with my hood strings. I finally get a good look at our surroundings when we do so. “Uh… where are we?”

There aren’t any windows, the only light sources being fire-lit torches on the walls. And speaking of the walls, they’re made of rocky uneven chocolate. In front of us, on the ground, are tracks leading off deep into the caverns.

“I said earlier, we’re in the Rock Candy Mines!” Wonka responds. “Here, hundreds of Oompa Loompas are mining through this chocolate in order to excavate clumps of rock candy, which are driven out in mine carts, and taken to other rooms in the factory. Say, how about we hitch a ride in the mine carts? They’ll help us get deeper in the mines much quicker than if we walk.”

He goes over to the rails and pulls a lever beside them. About two minutes of standing in awkward silence later, a chain of mine carts zooms into view. They stop as they reach the end of the track.

“Hop on in, everyone!” Wonka climbs into the back cart. Ethan hops in the one in front of him, then me, and Roman takes the one at the front. Once we’re all securely in, Wonka leans over and pulls the lever again. There’s a pause… before we shoot off.

I cling to the edges of the kart, praying I don’t fly out of it. This is just as bad as the lift, Jesus!

Roman lets out a whoop in front of me. What the hell, dude?! WHAT SINGLE PART ABOUT BEING HURLED IN A DEATH TRAP WITH NO SEATBELTS DESERVES A ‘WHOOP’?!

I’m gonna throw up, I am 100% going to throw up. I’ll try not to do so all over Roman, but given he’s right in front of me, and I’m too terrified of losing my head if I lean over the side, he’s right in the firing zone. So… good luck, Roman. It’s not my fault, it’s Wonka’s for almost definitely violating OSHA requirements.

Then finally, after god knows how long, the carts slow and pull to a stop. Roman, Ethan and Wonka hop out, while I more so crawl, knuckles white.

“When we leave here, can we walk? Please?” I ask.

Wonka shrugs, picking up one of the flaming torches from the wall to carry with him. “Sure, if you want to spend an hour walking.”

Roman shakes his head. “No way. We have walked enough.”

You know, there are some times when I really hate him and want to punch him in his perfect fucking face. This is one of those times. I’d take walking over those mine carts any day.

Wonka starts leading us even deeper into the caves, and begins explaining the process of how the rock candy is mined. I kinda stop listening after a bit. This is the most boring part of the tour so far, to be honest. It’s just a bunch of Oompa Loompas mining candy with pickaxes. Nothing particularly special or extraordinary like the rest of the factory.

My mind starts to wander. I wonder what Thomas’ doing right now…? Probably either editing his video at Remy’s place or at home. Remy’s either at home or at Starbucks. Mom’s probably still at work.

Aaaand now my mind’s wandering to Patton and Logan again. Right now, Patton could have been ripped to shreds by the whales, or drowned in lemonade… Logan could have exploded in a mess of juice, or ripened so that he’s stuck as a giant ball…

If he does get stuck, I wonder what will happen to him? Will he be kept in the factory? Or will he go home and just sit around there for the rest of his life, having to rely on his friends and family to take care of him? Either way, sounds horrible…

Ugh, I need to stop this! I need to stop thinking of the worst case scenarios for those two. Come on, Virgil, distract yourself, there’s gotta be something you can distract yourself wi-

… Where the hell is Roman?

Here I am, walking along with Wonka and Ethan, but Roman is nowhere to be found. Oh god, did something happen to him? Are Ethan and I gonna be left alone as the last tour members?! No way in hell! Roman is not fucking dying on me t-

“Psst! Virgil!”

I pause, turning around. Roman is still here and alive - thank god - and standing just around a corner down another route in the cave. He gestures for me to follow him down it, a wide grin on his face. I look back at Wonka and Ethan. They’re just wandering on down, not even noticing Roman and I lagging behind. Well, we probably shouldn’t stay behind and get lost. I don’t particularly want to end up like Patton and Loga-

Aaaand I have no choice in the matter as Roman is dragging me along with him anyway. Great.

“Dude, do you really think leaving Mr Wonka is a good idea?” I hiss at him, trying to pull my arm from his grip, but there’s no budging. Why does he have to be so strong?

“Sorry, Virge, but you have to see this! It’s awesome!” Roman squeals, practically breaking into a run. I do the same, not wanting him to rip off my arm by going too fast.

We continue through the tunnel for a minute or so longer, before Roman slows to a stop. We’ve reached the end of this cavern, and are stood in the mouth of a large cave.

And in this cave, fast asleep, is a fucking dragon .

It sounds insane, I know, but there it is, right in front of me. It seems to be made of a mix of boiled and rock candy, and is a reddish-pink colour, with a black stomach and horns. Instead of snoring, it lets out occasional small growls, showing off its long sharp teeth.

Welp, this is the most terrifying thing I’ve seen all day.

I turn to Roman, whispering, “Let’s get the fuck out of-”

“I’M GONNA FIGHT IT!”

“What?!” Wait, no, Virgil, don’t yell, no matter how stupid Roman is, you don’t want to wake the dragon.

“I’m gonna fight it! Just like the Philip in Sleeping Beauty…”

“Are you insane?” I hiss.

“Oh, come on, Virgil, I do fencing, I am skilled with a weapon. Speaking of…” He walks up to a pile of something in the corner and- HOLY SHIT IT’S A SKELETON. It is literally a pile of bones with a sword through the chest!

Roman pulls the sword out. “Here! I have a weapon! I’ll be fine.”

I look between him, the sword, the skeleton, and then back to him. “You are going to get yourself killed.”

Roman just chuckles, flashing me an a-million-dollar smile. “Just watch me.”

And with that, he sprints toward the dragon, sword raised.

“ROMAN!”

My cry doesn’t wake the dragon, but Roman piercing the sword into its eye certainly does. It jolts awake with a howl, before thrashing around until the sword is flung from his eye, heading right at Roman, who… catches it with ease?

...Whoa.

Roman goes running at the dragon again, letting out a battle cry. Thanks to the dragon being blind in one eye now, Roman is able to land quite a few initial hits while it’s finding its feet. It’s honestly incredible.

Extremely anxiety inducing, sure, but incredible.

The dragon soon spies Roman out of its one working eye, pupil narrowing on its target. It raises its tail in the air, letting out a roar, before slamming it down. Luckily, Roman dives out of the way just in time, slickly going into a forward roll and jumping to his feet, before leaping back into action.

I know fully well I should be running off to find Wonka and beg him to save Roman from the biggest mistake of his life. But… Roman actually seems to be handling this pretty well. Like, I could actually see him as a Disney Prince. He just needs the outfit, then he’ll be fully the part of a dashing, handsome prince…

… Did… I just call him handsome? And dashing?

...What?

“Virgil! Watch this!”

OKAY, Virgil, ignore the weird thoughts and focus back on the situation- ROMAN, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON THE DRAGON’S BACK?!

He’s just stood there, gripping one of the dragon’s spikes to stay in place as it thrashes around, trying to throw him off. He’s just grinning smugly, raising his sword in victory, despite the fact that the dragon’s still alive is directly contradicting the idea he’s won. So, instead of being a celebration of success, it just comes across as a really fucking stupid move.

Suddenly, the dragon stops thrashing. It growls, opening its mouth, a bubbling sound coming from the back of its throat.

And that’s when I remember the biggest defining feature of dragons: fire breathing.

Oh dear god.

The dragon raises its head, mouth opening even wider. A jet fires out into the air…

Only its not fire. Whatever this dragon is breathing is a golden brown liquid, as it falls back down, splattering on the ground. A bit lands in front of me, and I bend down, tentatively poking it. It’s not burning or painful, and whatever it is, It’s starting to harden already. Kinda reminds me of caramel…

Oh wow. This dragon breathes caramel. That’s actually pretty cool. And thankfully less deadly.

“What on earth is going on?!”

Wonka’s come in, Ethan beside him. And apparently the one second I’m turned away from Roman to see them arrive is the only second needed for something to go wrong.

“What the- AAAAAAAH!”

I turn back around to see Roman falling to the floor, the sword slipping from his grip. As he lands on his stomach with an ‘oof’, the weapon clatters away from him.

Wonka pulls out a walkie-talkie, muttering into it. “Oompa Loompas to the Dragon’s Lair. Bring tranquiliser guns.”

Roman recovers and starts dragging himself over to the sword. However, as he does, the bubbling sound comes from the dragon’s throat as it starts to prepare another caramel blast. Roman reaches for the sword as the dragon opens its mouth, aiming at him.

“ROMAN, LOOK OUT!”

Right as I cry, the dragon fires, and caramel covers the fallen prince.

Oh god. Oh Jesus Christ.

There are footsteps as Oompa Loompas run into the room, all with guns. They aim them at the dragon and fire. In seconds, it’s fast asleep.

I tentatively walk over and kneel beside Roman’s caramel covered form. I poke it. It’s dried, he’s stuck in the solid casing.

“Roman….? Can you hear me?”

There’s a pause, before a muffled scream comes from inside the caramel casing.

Well… at least he’s still alive?

Wonka turns to one of the Oompa Loompas. “Break Mr Prince off the floor and take him to the Caramel Carving Room, please. Make sure you break him out before he runs out of oxygen in there.”

He could run out of oxygen?!

Oh fuck, oh god…

A group of Oompa Loompas run over and push me back from Roman. One has a hand cart, presumably what they’ll use to take Roman from the room. As they start to break him off the floor, music starts to pick up, until all the Oompa Loompas burst into song.

“Roman Prince, the arrogant pest He’s always proclaiming that he’s the best We hope he likes the smell of caramel As it will infect his final breath

Roman Prince, ego way up far His maddening mantra was “I’m the star!” But now say goodbye to the title role As he takes his final curtain call

Yes, now he’ll join the other two From the tour ejected Will he survive the tragedy? Or will corpses be collected?

One drowned whale food All eaten up One stuck as fruit Or has blown up Now Roman’s joined the two of them And he may surely meet his end

Roman Prince, the pompous bitch Will soon develop a nasty itch We’ll soon hear the twit screaming from in the food As his oxygen store runs out for good!”

And with that, the Oompa Loompas wheel Roman the caramel statue from the cave. They really saved the worst song for him…

“Hm. That’s odd. They usually don’t use such foul language,” Wonka says. “Anyway, shall we move along?” And with that, he skips from the cave.

I just kinda shuffle behind him and Ethan. I can’t take this. I cannot take this, not anymore. All three of my brand new friends could be dead. I feel like I’m going to be sick. And heading back to the door to the room on the mine carts doesn’t help. By the time we’re back in the corridors, I’m trembling from head to toe.

“Right! Where shall we go to next…?” Wonka wonders aloud. “I think the Television Room is just down the hall, as is the Coconut Ice Rink. What would you two prefer?”

Okay, Virgil, tell him your sick of this. Tell him you don’t want to spend any longer in this death-trap, you just want to see your friends be saved and make sure they’re okay, and then go, leave, get out of this torture chamber-

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

----------

Roman is no longer available for asks

Taglist:@clone-number-1, @pumpkinminette, @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing, @jessicakennedy957, @why-should-i-tell-youu2, @dont-lose-urhead

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kpopfanfictrash · 6 years ago

Text

Angel (IV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jackson

Rating: 18+ (mentions of sex, depictions of medical trauma)

Word Count: 4,466

Summary: You’re a medical intern, always a perfectionist and used to being the best at everything you do. Jackson Wang is the male nurse beloved by everyone and constantly on your nerves. When you two are brought together, it could be the best or the worst thing that’s ever happened. [ THIS IS A REPOST ]

You laugh at his expression. Twining your fingers about his neck while pressing his body to yours. “I don’t,” you admit, voice lowering. “I don’t see you as just a friend – I was scared. Scared you were avoiding me. I thought maybe you regretting taking care of me.”

Jackson’s eyes widen. “What? No,” he counters. “I thought you were mad at me, that I took advantage of you somehow. I wanted to give you space, I wanted … Ah, shit.” Jackson exhales, closing his eyes. “I did this all wrong.”

When you poke at his cheek, Jackson opens both eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” you smile.

Jackson smiles back at you, slightly dazed. “It doesn’t, does it,” he murmurs. Nudging your nose aside with his own when he kisses you.

You melt into him, skin tingling as for the first time in a long time – you allow yourself to be happy.

“It’s just mind-boggling.”

“What is?” you muse, adjusting the IV drip with one hand.

Mr. Ronstein smiles at you from his bed, eyes bright. “That you’re not yet married.”

You snort, grabbing a pillow from the couch. “Mr. Ronstein – I’m only twenty-five.”

“Nonsense,” he huffs, as you readjust his position. “People younger than you get married. In my day, you would have been considered a spinster. A beautiful one,” he corrects, grinning at your expression.

You arch a brow, trying not to laugh. Mr. Ronstein is one of your favorite patients. He came into the ER about a week ago with a mild stroke, and is now just waiting on final approval to go home. He’s older but not old, at least not in your terms. Early sixties, fit and healthy – no reason he shouldn’t fully recover. He had an Ischemic stroke, like most strokes are – meaning a blockage in his arteries, not a rupture. Not even a full blockage, so the important thing now will be therapy and lifestyle change.

Mr. Ronstein fully agrees with this, although he likes to wriggle his eyebrows when the doctor’s not looking and say, “Except for the occasional cigar.”

That’s when you groan, saying no. Then Mr. Ronstein nods, pretending to be serious while simultaneously throwing a wink. It never fails to make you smile, mostly because despite the situation, Mr. Ronstein is always positive. He talks about this entire thing as a wake-up call, an order to de-stress his life. Eat better, drink less, see his kids more. That sort of thing.

It’s one of the best parts of your day to check on Mr. Ronstein – which is why you’re here, taking a break between patients. “People younger than me are not in medical school,” you remind him, grinning over your shoulder.

Mr. Ronstein looks up suspiciously. “Your next retort is usually that you aren’t even dating. Does this mean you are seeing someone?”

You remain silent, but a blush creeps over your cheeks as you grab his chart from the couch.

Mr. Ronstein starts to laugh. “You are! You’re dating someone! That was fast,” he chortles. “Come on, tell me who. If he’s not up to code, I’ll snuff the guy.”

You shake your head, about to retort when Jackson pops his head into the room. “Greg!” he grins, slapping the door frame. “I hear that you’re going home! Thank god, we need some actual sick people up in this place.”

Mr. Ronstein chuckles. “Jackson Wang,” he shakes his head. “I will miss seeing your face.”

Jackson looks your way. “How’s your car?” he asks, managing to keep a straight face.

You blush, remembering the fervent make-out session of last night. Jackson’s hands in your hair, hips pressed to yours, lips on your throat – your cheeks must be tomato-red.

Mr. Ronstein looks suspiciously from you to Jackson, then back again. “Jackson?” he repeats, startled. “You’re dating Jackson?”

Freezing in place, you find you can’t say a word.

Mr. Ronstein starts to laugh. “Well, I’ll be. You two have been mooning over each other for long enough now. Good going, man,” he stage-whispers at Jackson.

Jackson grins back at him, giving a huge thumbs-up.

“Hello?” you glare, watching both adopt guilty expressions. “I’m standing right here.”

“Right.” Jackson blinks innocently. “That’s why I’m saving all the dirty bits until you’re out of the room.”

Groaning, you grab the charts from the couch. “There haven’t been any dirty parts, Jackson. You only kissed me yesterday.”

“And whose fault is that?” Jackson complains, eyes wide. “I would have asked you out sooner, if you hadn’t been ignoring me.”

“Okay, I’m leaving,” you announce, shaking your head. “Rounds.” On the way out though, you gently brush Jackson’s elbow. “See you later.”

“Well, aren’t you kids cute,” Mr. Ronstein deadpans.

Jackson looks indignantly back. “I am not cute,” he frowns, placing a hand on his heart. “I am chic and sexy.”

“Yeah,” you snort before leaving. “Okay, Jackson. Bye, Mr. Ronstein!”

Jackson is still protesting when you go, smiling as you move down the hall. Last night was – well, the word amazing comes to mind. You kissed until you couldn’t breathe, until your lips were numb and you forced yourself to pull away. Then you just stood there, leaning against your car and staring at Jackson.

He asked you out on a date, asked you out for this Friday – the first night off the two of you happen to have at the same time. One of the perils of working at the same hospital. Despite this, Jackson manages to find ways throughout the week to let you know he’s thinking about you. Sending texts, grabbing coffee or lunch.

The strangest part about dating is Jackson seems genuinely interested in getting to know you. He flirts, sure – but then asks you questions about your day. Listens to the words that you say, remembers them later. It’s a change from your previous relationships. Guy after guy who just wanted an accessory. Someone to point at and say they’re dating, all the while not caring about the why’s or how’s.

Admittedly, this is one of the main reasons you haven’t dated anyone in so long. When you’re in a relationship, you want things to mean something. You want to be with the person, just that person – a feeling which doesn’t happen often, for you. It’s nice, having someone who takes care of you, who asks about you – it’s nice, having someone to do the same. The more you get to know Jackson Wang, the more you like him.

An entire week passes, with your nerves growing and growing the closer Friday gets. It’s been a long while since you went out with someone you cared for. With someone you liked and wanted to impress. It’s enough that come Friday, you spend a half an hour that morning picking out your outfit. Trying on and discarding dress after dress in a heaped pile on your floor.

That one is too girly. That one too serious. That one is yellow; it doesn’t work with the shoes you want to wear. That one has a weird bow, a rip in the hem. Slowly, the pile grows – along with your nerves. It’s around the twenty-fourth dress you fall down on the pile. Staring blankly into your closet and spotting your skirts. Yes. You scramble upwards, pulling out one you bought weeks back, in case you had a fun night out. The price tag is still on, but it’s perfect. Fun, flirty – sexy enough to make Jackson’s eyes widen.

You place it in your gym bag, along with a top and heels. Slinging this over your shoulder, you head out the door only a few minutes late. From the moment you enter the hospital, it’s chaos. People are rushing back and forth, a sense of urgency in the air while you hastily throw on your scrubs.

“What’s going on?” you ask, skidding into place beside Marie.

She turns to look at you, lips white. “Accident,” is all she says – but you understand.

Your heart races as you nod. “Where are we short-staffed?”

Marie glances down the hall. “I think Dr. Banshin could use help, in room 211.”

You glance to where she’s looking. “Dr. Banshin?” you repeat, wishing she’d said anyone else. You haven’t seen or spoken to Dr. Bashin since the incident. Not since you botched that lumbar puncture and were sent awkwardly away. All the feelings of that day come flooding back. The embarrassment, the inadequacy, the sure, sinking feeling of not being good enough.

But then Jackson’s speech enters your mind. The words he reassured you with, his rather high opinion. He thinks you have what it takes to make it here. Everyone messes up, you remind yourself – it’s what you do after, which counts. Thinking this, you square your shoulders. “Alright,” you say, taking a deep breath. “I’ll go help.”

Entering the room, Dr. Banshin looks up. His gaze flicks briefly over you, before adopting an expression of neutrality. “Y/N,” he nods, looking back down. “Are you just going to gape, or will you begin the procedure?”

You smile, remembering the last time he said this to you. Then you square your shoulders, shutting the door behind you. “Yes,” you nod, hastening over to the sink. “I’m ready.”

The day is a small miracle.

Everyone involved in the accident manages to pull through. It’s one of those rare good days, where everything seems to come together at the right time in the right place. The accident itself was brutal – a slippery road, sudden mudslide and a driver who spun into oncoming traffic. It was amazing no one died upon impact. Instead, one car was clipped to be sent careening into the forest. It broke through several fences before eventually colliding with a tree.

The other car wasn’t so lucky, hitting the median straight-on. A family was in that car – mother, father, two teenage daughters. The daughters were lucky enough only to sustain minor injuries. Bruised ribs, light concussions, external cuts and bruises. None of which necessitated surgery. The father and mother though – one had a punctured lung, the other internal bleeding. After emergency surgery, twelve hours later, things are finally starting to stabilize.

The man who hit the tree was trickier. Broken femur, severe concussion and a fractured shoulder. Made all the more difficult by the fact that he was anemic. You’ve spent all day running between various rooms, helping in whichever way you can. Doing paperwork, watching over people’s shoulders and holding instruments. Watching as one by one, multiple doctors’ faces fell in relief. They stare down at their charts, hardly daring to believe when they see everyone will make it.

Everyone got here in time. There was nothing so life-threatening you couldn’t help. You end up staying several hours later than you mean to. The place is just so chaotic, you barely have a moment to breathe – let alone think about your night out. You’re trudging towards the on-call room, pulling your hair out of your ponytail when you see Jackson rounding the corner.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, eyes widening. “I – Jackson, I’m sorry. Our dinner reservation,” you pause, down glancing at your watch. “It was now,” you wince. “Wasn’t it?”

The two of you meet in the middle of the hall and it’s then you notice that Jackson, too, looks exhausted. “It’s okay,” he offers, smiling feebly. “I’m late as well.”

You exhale, glancing up at the changing rooms. “Okay. Just give me twenty minutes. I’ll wash my face, put on a dress and,” you pause, tired just thinking about it. Today has been satisfying, but draining. If you’re being honest, you’re completely wiped.

You look up, as Jackson’s hand touches your arm.

“What about,” he raises an eyebrow. “You come to my place. Or I come to yours. I’ll cook, we can order pizza. We can watch a movie and relax.”

“Well,” you pause, then nod. “That sounds amazing.”

A grin lights up Jackson’s face. “It’s a date,” he announces. “Let’s change and then – my place?”

“Okay,” you agree. “But Jackson – there’s no way you’re cooking. You’ve been here just as long as I have. Let’s get that pizza.”

“Okay,” Jackson pushes open the door to the men’s changing room. “Not that me cooking was going to be fancy, Y/N. Just two really spicy ramen packets.”

The door falls shut behind him, and you hurry to get your things. On the drive to Jackson’s, you lean your head against the window. Stomach fluttering at the thought of what him driving means. Jackson said he can drive you back tonight to get your car, if you wish. Or you can stay, and he can drive you back in the morning. The second option is the one giving you butterflies. Just the thought of spending the night, with or near Jackson.

You’re wearing your skirt and heels, slightly out of place but unfortunately, you didn’t bring anything else to change into. Not that Jackson seems to mind – he keeps glancing sideways, shaking his head before looking back at the road.

“I’m glad we’re going to my place,” he mutters, one hand firm on the wheel.

“Oh?” you turn your head. “Why is that?”

“Because,” Jackson smiles, profile lit by the streetlights behind him. “If I had to sit across the table from you wearing that for two hours – I might have gone crazy.”

You laugh, facing forward. “It is fairly uncomfortable. Do you have sweatpants I can change into?” Jackson shifts, quiet for so long you poke his arm. “Is everything okay?” you ask.

He groans, one hand tightening on the wheel. “I can’t decide if that’s better or worse,” he admits. “You in that skirt, or you in my clothes.”

You laugh, pushing him gently. “Get over yourself,” you snort. “I just want to wear sweatpants.”

“Fine, fine,” Jackson nods. “But I’m not responsible for how often I kiss you, then.”

“What a line,” you grumble, glancing out the window – but your reflection smiles back at you. From far behind, Jackson sees as well and smiles back.

His apartment is cleaner than the last time – Jackson grins, ushering you inside.

“Did you do this thinking I would come home tonight?” you ask, eyebrows raised as you lower yourself onto his sofa.

Jackson flushes, moving into his bedroom. “No!” he calls, voice growing further away. “I would never, ever think that!”

When he comes out, he tosses you a piece of clothing. “Thanks,” you murmur, brushing past to go change in his bathroom.

“Pepperoni?” Jackson calls out, already dialing.

“Yes!” you yell, shutting the door and leaning your forehead against the frame. Exhaling deeply, you turn to strip from your clothes. You fold them into a neat pile, pulling on Jackson’s sweats and t-shirt. They smell just like him, cozy and warm while you take a long breath. Feeling only slightly creepy as you sigh, pushing open the door to the living room.

Jackson sits on his couch, also dressed in sweats. He peers from over the top of the fabric. “Come here,” he demands, patting the seat next to him. “I saved you the best spot.”

“What,” you joke, coming around front. “Your lap?”

Jackson winks. “If you like.”

Snorting, you settle beside him. “You wish.”

Jackson just smiles, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you close. You lean into him, even while he turns on his TV. “What do you want to watch?” he asks, flipping through channels. “I have to admit – I was a sucker and bought the most expensive cable package. Name a show, I probably have it.”

You nestle into him. Pleased, when Jackson tucks you closer. “What about Chopped?” your eyes light up. “I have a weakness for cooking shows. I love to work out and watch them.”

“Masochist,” Jackson mutters, changing the channel anyways.

When the pizza arrives, he turns down the sound. Sitting cross-legged while your conversation winds and turns. Jackson finds a bottle of wine from somewhere, pouring you both a glass.

“I knew you could do it,” he grins, taking another bite of pizza. “You nailed that lumbar puncture – er, so to speak.’

You snort, nearly choking on your soda. “I have you to thank for that. Before I went in, I reminded myself of what you said. It really helped.”

“Mm?” Jackson chews, looking thoughtful. “Which part?”

“The part where everyone messes up. That I likely would again – and that sometimes, there might be no one able to help me.”

Jackson stares, setting down his slice. “That part helped?’

You laugh at his expression, nodding. “Yeah. It made me feel like I’m not alone. That everyone has been in my shoes – which was comforting, hearing my thoughts voiced out loud.”

Jackson stares for a long moment, before then smiles. “I feel the same way.”

A long silence passes, one where you draw your knees onto the couch. “Jackson,” you ask, gaze flicking to the TV. “What made you get into medicine?”

Jackson is silent for a long moment. “Do you mean – what made me want to be a nurse, and not a doctor?”

Your gaze moves sideways. “No. Well – maybe. You’re smart, talented, well-liked. Not that nurses can’t be all those things, but it is a very specific job to choose.”

Jackson exhales, looking down. “I did my Undergraduate at Stanford. Did you know that?”

Your eyes widen, shaking your head. “No. I didn’t.”

“Yeah,” he admits, gaze finding yours. “I thought often about applying to medical school, I really did. Every time, I just couldn’t. Ever since I was little, I’ve wanted to be a nurse.”

You set your wine down, before quietly lacing your fingers with his. Jackson smiles at the gesture.

“Why?” you continue. “Why did you want to become a nurse?”

Jackson’s eyes are dark. “When I was young,” he explains, voice soft. “My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She went through intensive chemotherapy and radiation,” he sighs before falling silent, remembering. “My dad worked a lot. My parents were both immigrants, it was hard for both not to work at the same time. I spent a lot of time in and out of hospitals with my mom.”

Your hand tightens, lump suddenly rising in your throat.

“It was hard,” Jackson admits. “But the part which made it bearable, the part I really remember are the nurses. They took care of me. They explained things, in the best way they could. I remember thinking when my mom got discharged, that I wanted to do the same. I wanted to offer people, especially children, the same kind of hope I was given.”

It makes sense – so much. It explains Jackson’s demeanor, his strong desire to help. His selfless personality and when your lift your gaze to his, he’s looking back.

“What are you thinking?” Jackson asks.

Shaking your head, you lean closer. His hand slides to your hair, pushing strands away from your face. “I was thinking,” you say, letting him pull you near. “That I think you’re wonderful.”

Jackson’s face softens, thumb brushing your cheek. “That’s funny,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss to the side of your mouth. “Because I feel the same about you.”

He kisses you fully, sinking backwards and drawing you on top of him. Wrapping himself lazily around you, nudging your lips with his own. Your hands wander softly as his own trace your back. His hips finds yours, cupping you to him. You arch upwards, letting his mouth open beneath yours. The touch of him is hard, his motions soft and you don’t protest when he turns you over.

Drawing both your hands over head, Jackson slowly tugs his shirt from your body. This hits the floor, along with his own. You see then, that all his time in the gym is paying off, since Jackson’s body is just as perfect as you thought it would be. The way he stares though, makes you feel like maybe he’s as excited as you are. His gaze traces, followed by his hands, unable to stop himself.

He groans when you lift your hips to his, eyes dark with desire. “Y/N,” he murmurs, voice hoarse.

You don’t respond though, pulling him back down. Not objecting when he lifts you up, obediently wrapping your legs around him. Jackson brings you into his room, lays you down on his bed to tall quickly beside you. You arch into him, barely registering how the rest of your clothes disappear. Jackson asks you a question, one to which you nod yes. Nod again, when he drops between your legs. Groan out loud, as your head falls into the headboard.

You say yes again, when he covers himself to thrust into you. Jackson gathers you close, stilling as he kisses you softly. Moving his hips again, pace increasing with each thrust, hands finding yours to come apart at the seams. You hold onto him, since he’s the only thing solid. The only thing you can think about. You hold on to him, even after he pulls away. Even after he falls, happy and exhausted, beside you and lies with you in his arms.

The two of you sleep that way.

Your next shift is Saturday evening. You arrive happy and buzzing, still on a high from last night. Memories of the morning cloud your thoughts – Jackson making you breakfast, driving you to get your car before changing his mind mid-drive and taking you on a walk by the river.

You move slowly, almost dreamily entering the hospital. It’s so unlike you, but you can’t help how you feel. Every time you think of Jackson, you smile. His touch, his laugh, his eyes – it’s impossible to think of anything else, with those thoughts in mind. Jackson doesn’t work until tomorrow morning, so you’ll probably only see him again when you leave.

As you grab your clipboard, you quickly scan the names of your patients for today – and freeze. Reading again, then a third time. It makes no sense. Squinting closer, you shake your head before looking back up. Walking quickly, you grab the arm of first person you see.

“Hey,” you ask, wincing when you recognize Jordan.

She seems tired, as though nearing the end of her shift. Her eyes flick to yours, then away, clearly disinterested. “What?” she asks. “What do you want?”

“I,” you pause, gritting your teeth. “Why does my sheet have Mr. Ronstein’s name on it?”

For the first time you can remember, sympathy enters Jordan’s gaze. It’s this, more than anything which convinces you this is not a mistake. That you haven’t been given last week’s chart in error, haven’t received a misprint of some sort.

Jordan swallows. “He’s back,” she explains. Her hand tenses, as though to touch you before lowering it. “He – well, he had another stroke.”

The hallway grows fuzzier. “What?” you repeat, ears ringing. “No.”

She nods. “It was worse, this time. Hemorrhagic. He’s in a coma right now, Y/N. He probably won’t make it, probably will be taken off life support before the night is over.”

You just stand there. Stand there staring down the hall, struggling to process. No. This is all wrong. Mr. Ronstein was getting better. He’s supposed to be at home, living out his wake-up call. Seeing his kids, eating better, enjoying the occasional cigar. Your throat tightens. Men in his condition, the kind of stroke that he had – he should have had years, at worst. This kind of thing, it – you exhale, shaky.

Jordan is still standing, arms folded across her chest. “Y/N,” she says gently, bringing your attention back to hers. “I need to finish my shift.”

You nod, absent-mindedly. “Yeah. Okay.”

She walks away, leaving you standing there. Staring down the hall, then at the clipboard in your hands. You need to move. Need to keep going because there are other names on this list. Other patients to check in on. You take a hesitant step forward, unsure why your vision is suddenly blurring. No – you know why.

This isn’t right. It’s not fair. But what’s right or fair in life, you think. Stopping midway down the hall to take a deep breath. Pressing fists to your eyes, struggling to contain your emotions. This happens. You know that it does. You send someone home, you think they’re okay – and then something worse occurs. Sometimes the thing is avoidable, sometimes it’s not. This will keep happening, over and over.

You exhale, hands pressed so tight that it hurts. Then you swallow. You can’t let this consume you. Can’t let this destroy you because if you do – you’re no use to anyone. If you do, you’re not a doctor. It’s this which forces you to open your eyes. This, which forces you to take another step, to continue to walk. You place one foot before the other until you round the corner and enter Mr. Ronstein’s room.

His family isn’t here. Likely somewhere else, while they talk things over with the attending. You stare down at his bed, at the tubes and medicine running through while you manage a watery smile. “Hi, Greg,” you say softly.

In the morning, nothing is better. The prognosis is still bleak and Mr. Ronstein’s family decides to take him off the life support. You’re the one who delivers the news. The one who stands there while they debate. You handle their paperwork after, a tiny measure of relief in your body because it means you don’t need to be in the room when he dies.

Immediately following, comes the guilt.

As you leave the hospital the next morning, everything is dazed. You barely see Jackson as you exit, standing before his car in the parking lot. When you do see him, you hike your backpack higher, walk in his direction. Jackson is standing there, looking as though he’s lost in thought. His phone he holds loose in his fist, expression confused looking out at the cars.

“Hey,” you murmur, coming to a stop beside him. “Morning.”

Jackson’s gaze flickers, before meeting you own. He looks surprised, and you notice with some shock that his eyes are rimmed in red. “Hi,” he breathes, zeroing in on your face. “I – hi.”

You tilt your head. “Is everything okay?” you ask, since he seems off. “It’s been a pretty crappy night at the hospital. I hope the day shift goes better.”

Jackson lifts both eyebrows, opens his mouth to speak and shakes his head. “Yeah,” he breathes, sounding lost. “I hope so, too.”

His voice is wrong, though. It’s too tight, his eyes are without focus and you take a small step forward. Forgetting your night, forgetting everything that’s happened to place both hands on his arms. “Jackson,” you demand, waiting for him to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

Jackson looks your way. His eyes find yours, for only a second. “My dad just called,” he manages.

“Oh?” Unsure why, your heart starts to pound. “What about?”

“My mom.” Jackson can barely get out the words. His mouth tightens around them, and he swallows. “They found a lump in her breast. They’re doing a biopsy but Y/N,” he half-breaks, needing to look away. “They think she’s re-lapsed.”

[Master List]

#jackson wang smut #got7 smut #got7 fanfic #jackson wang fanfic

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