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m-ilkiee · 4 months

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Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 1: Warning Signals

series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

chapter summary: being friends with Emma Sano is nice, until you get on the wrong side of the Sano brothers.

content warning: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, misogyny, alcohol/drug use, brief mention of violence, religious and purity culture themes, classism, slutshaming, p*rn mention, sexual assault, noncon, public initimacy, fingering (fem recieving), dacryphilia, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of vomitting, victim blaming.

r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)

word count: 10.1k words

note: this chapter has been edited and the storyline shifted to the original plan for the series. consequent chapters 2-5 will follow suit and vastly vary from the og series i posted before.

masterlist||chapter2||taglist

KNOWING how big both the TENJIKU and TOMAN fraternities were on campus, it was a bit awkward being friends with the youngest sister of two of the most popular guys in this school.

Any where you two went, she would always be the center of attention. You didn't really mind being in her shadow because as long as you have her, you’ll be fine. People called you a lost puppy, riding on Emma’s cocktails just to get by in university.

They didn’t know how you both have self-care days where you would paint your nails, wear facial masks and watch “Mean Girls” or “Clueless” on her laptop because you weren’t allowed to watch it when you were young. Or how the both of you always have study dates with hot coffee and exchanging annotated notes so that you both remain at the top of your game. They don’t know about the secrets you both share and the trust you both have for each other.

You don’t have to explain anything to anyone.

Emma is a pretty satisfied girl. Her college tuition is paid for in full and her time here has always been smooth. As far as you knew, she grew up being loved by all three of her brothers and they doted on her to the point she thinks they spoiled her.

-You don’t think they spoiled her -okay maybe a little with the way she spends money, but everyone has a vice. Right?

You could tell she knew what familial love is with how sweet and kind she was to you when you opened up about your family troubles.

The only issue is that her two brothers, Mikey and Izana, have been at each other's necks for some years now. Mostly Izana inciting violence at Mikey and Mikey retailiating; it’s the number one concern in the Sano household the way those two fight and argue.

From what Emma told you, Izana’s provocative nature was the gasoline to Mikey’s volatile mental state, akin to fire. Even the littlest of things that no one would bat an eye for could incite a bloody brawl between them. And as they grew older, more people were involved in their petty rivalry, since neither Emma nor Shinichiro agreed to take their side.

Despite the looming hostility, Mikey decided to throw in the towel and agree for a truce. At first, Emma couldn’t believe it. Until two weeks had passed and they hadn’t fought.

"They haven't gotten along at a stretch like this, I tell ya!" Emma had said excitedly while selecting what she would wear that day. You let out a small smile as she tossed multiple clothes on her large bed. Being the youngest had its perks, like how her oldest brother, Shinichiro paid for her to have the biggest room in one of the dorms all to herself.

You heard that on the front, he had one of the biggest Motorcycle brands and behind all of that, his real business was handling the black dragons, one of the biggest gangs in Japan.

You wonder how Emma feels about her brothers' lifestyle, but judging from her huge wardrobe and expensive jewelry, you don't think it bothers her too much.

Not like you cared either. To you, she was just Emma. Nothing more or less.

The blonde haired girl swiftly turns to you with two options in her hand, a pink sequined dress and a white halter crop top and a pink mini skirt with ruffles at the bottom. "I need to look really good today, which one says 'I'm so happy my brothers are not at each other's necks for once?' " She asked animatedly.

You've never seen her this happy since you met her, unless Draken was involved and somehow it made you happier too. It must be nice to be so close to your family members all the time and be able to mend your relationship with them.

You've never had that. You don't think of your family much. You don't wish to either, ever since your father cursed you out for rejecting a marriage proposal from one of his friends to pursue higher education and your mother stayed quiet, complicit -all the while silently seething that all her training went down the drain. The first time you ever went against their old fashioned ideals after years of obedience was met with immediate punishment.

Ironic.

You don’t regret it, though. Because you wouldn’t have met Emma.

"The second one is a better choice." You said with a smile, gazing at her with adoration in your eyes. “The skirt ruffles makes your legs look good. Pair it with the white strap heels and you’re good.”

The blonde broke out into a wider grin, the clothes pooling at her sides as she rested a hand on her hips. “Look at you giving me fashion advice.” She teased lightheartedly. “I feel like a proud mother growing up!”

“I learned from the best.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence and you take that time to admire her. You’ve always thought Emma was gorgeous, from her bright smile, to the twinkling of her eyes when she’s mischievous, to her enthusiasm for life in general. It was a no-brainer that guys would gravitate towards Emma and try their luck into dating her. Eventually the threat of her brothers or the threat of her equally terrifying friends with benefits who just happened to be the vice president of Toman, Ken Ryugi, would be enough to back off.

You wished you were as likeable and as beautiful as she was. You were always too shy to do anything or talk to people, let alone guys that you liked.

“So have you picked your outfit for the party?”

You’re snapped out of the trance-like state to see Emma standing in front of you, her body so close, you could smell her vivienne westwood. “Me?” You asked her, your tone laced with confusion. “I don’t think I’m gonna go.”

“And why is that?”

You paused, trying to organize your thoughts on how to break this to her without ruining her mood tonight. “I don’t think…” you took a deep breath before saying. “Your brothers would want me there.”

There’s a shift in her look, so minor but you could pick out the way her smile faltered. You both knew that her brothers could be… weird around you. It was something Emma couldn’t understand for the life of her.

Izana was usually very displeased with your presence and makes it very well known he doesn't want you there with snide remarks and forgetting your own order. His friends, for the fear of him, wouldn't speak to you either. It took Emma angrily yelling at him for him to be civil towards you. But the second she turned her back, Izana would go back to his usual self, being rude and peppering it with little acts of violence like pushing your hand so that your drink spilled all over the floor and even pushed your laptop bag to the ground, destroying the device you saved money to buy for months.

Mikey was on the other end of the spectrum. He would ignore your very presence and talk to everyone else but you and the rest followed suit. You’ve tried to at least make small talk with him, anything but he would talk over you. You heard from other people that he’s the nice brother and he’s usually so easy going- you’ve seen it with your very eyes the way he interacts with Emma’s other friends, Hinata and Senju.

And it hurts you. You’ve had a crush on him for so long, longer than you even knew Emma, so you don’t understand why he’s acting so differently with you. Seeing him talk with other girls sweetly makes you green with envy, wishing that it was you. Craving for just a piece of his attention.

Maybe he just doesn't like shy girls.

Only some guy named Takemitchi would try and explain that they don't hate you. It was surprising, considering that you knew people like Hakkai - whom you attended the same confirmation class and high school with- and even he made no effort to at least speak with you whenever you came to the frat house or met on the road.

You stopped bothering to make either of the Sano brothers like you, so long as they let Emma keep hanging out with you. It was obvious that they hold some animosity for you when you’ve done nothing to them.

“Nonsense!”

Before you could say anything, Emma pulled you up by your arm and dragged you off the bed towards her closet. “That’s a load of bullshit. There’s no way I’m leaving my best friend to rot in her room when there’s a Sano party going on.”

“But-”

“Nope!” She cut you off stubbornly, before pulling out some clothes from her closet, trying to match them with your skin tone. Satisfied with the outfit she picked, she puts the clothes in your arms and practically shoves you into her bathroom.

“EMMA-”

“Don’t Emma me, (name). You’re going to take a shower and by the time you’re out, I should be back with a makeup kit that suits you.” You tried to speak again but she silenced you by pressing a finger on your lips. “We’re going to be the hottest girls at that party, whether they like it or not.”

“But these look very short-”

“Sorry, can’t hear you, bye!”

You sighed when Emma shut the bathroom door in your face, locking it so that you would do what she said.

There was no winning with Emma when she made her mind up. Might as well follow through with it.

YOU had no idea how big this party would be.

You've come to the Toman frat house before with Emma to see Mikey and Draken once, and admired how large and spacious the three story building was. Now imagine that large of a space being cramped up with nearly the whole school's population.

Somewhat, you’re grateful that the outfit Emma lent you was as short as it was. The house was so hot, you could faint from how stuffy it was.

You hold on tightly onto Emma's hand, intertwined with each other as the both of you push through the big crowd, ignoring the sweaty, drunk students as you headed for the stairs. She, being used to parties like this, was able to navigate through the raging crowd with some form of ease.

After a few more squeezes, you both finally make it to the stairs.

As you both climbed up, you could see different people, all having fun in their own way. You're rarely invited to parties, so this was still more of a nouveau experience for you. A girl is asking for a light, a tiny blunt in between her teeth until another person lights it up for her. You see some guy shotgunning another girl, before melting into a hot kiss, tongue melding with each other. Someone else is drowning shot after shot and a couple is practically dry humping for everyone to see, a poor excuse to dance with the music.

The obscene sight surprisingly doesn’t disgust you, knowing your background, it just makes you curious. How would it feel to try one of those things? Smoking? Drinking? Making out with someone? Emma had told you about her own experiences; as long as you took it easy, it could be fun. Her first time with anything was with Draken and he was always gentle with her, plus her brothers were fine with it, even making sure whatever she took wasn’t laced with anything.

However, you were taught differently. That your body is a temple that you should keep clean for God and doing any of these things will sully you.

You didn’t believe that as much as you did when you were younger, but you didn’t want to test your luck either in case it ended up being true. Besides, you would look like a complete moron if you tried anything with them.

You tried as much as possible not to make it obvious that you're staring, but that failed when you caught the attention of a tall silhouette smoking. Sharp golden eyes stared you down and you instantly looked away, not wanting to get in trouble with some random guy.

You've heard rumors about Toman or Tenjiku guys absolutely beating anyone up for just staring at them wrong. You don't want to be victim number seventy-five this year.

Finally, you both reached your destination; a room on the second floor where Mikey had asked Emma to meet him. The ground floor was always the place where non-members stayed, trashed and partied. The first is accessible to all members of Toman (and now, Tenjiku) to hang out, have a private party and smoke. The second floor is only for executives and their girls or sisters.

You're a bit worried for yourself as Emma spoke to the person guarding the door. Mikey never said YOU could come along with Emma. You're no executive. You're no girlfriend of their executives and you are definitely not related to any of them. You had told Emma to leave you on the ground floor but she insisted that no one would be angry with your presence.

You've suspected that Emma has been trying to hook you up with someone in either of the fraternities. She was always insistent that you at least get to know them.

"(Name) come on."

Without waiting for your protest, Emma yanked you into the rather pristine room that housed the executives. Your eyes drank in the sight briefly, thanking God that it wasn't filthy or smelly as you had imagined it. The execs were all playing a game of poker, with an orange haired girl -Hinata Tachibana, his girlfriend, perched on Takemitchi's lap, laughing at his bad luck.

Emma's eyes quickly scanned around the room for a brief moment until she saw her two brothers sitting side by side, both engrossed in the game. Mikey’s blonde hair is tousled, like he’s been running his hand through it repeatedly. His baggy white shirt is unbuttoned half way and slips down his shoulder, revealing a black tank top and large jean trousers. Izana is different, white hair falling across his handsome face, leather jacket discarded on the back rest of the chair, leaving him in only a tight red shirt and tighter leather jeans, various chains and accessories hanging from his neck. Two earrings dangle from his ears- you can’t remember the name or significance.

‘They’re really good looking. Really-’

Without a warning, she lets go of your poor arm and jumps on top of Mikey and Izana, tackling them into a hug. Cards fly as she squeezes them hard, to which they discard their initial anger of losing their deck and hugging her back.

"Emma, next time give us a warning, will you?" Mikey pouted. You thought it looked cute, but immediately discarded that stupid thought. The guy hates your guts, don’t think he’s hot. "You ruined my game."

"As if you weren't losing dipshit." Izana teased, his face more relaxed than you’re used to seeing. "She did you a favor. You were down to 100 chips."

"You were down to 50. Who's the loser?"

"Still you."

You could see a smile tug at the corner of her lips lift up as she stands up. "Finally glad that two of you aren't strangling each other for once." She said triumphantly, hands on her hips. Her voice has a pep to it. "Last time both of you were in the same room, it didn't end well."

"Doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it." Izana scoffed. Suddenly, his purple eyes left his sister's face and trailed onto you who just stood a few feet away, awkwardly. You watched in real time as his smile fell, his features darkening the moment he locked gazes with you.

Dear God.

"What is SHE doing here?"

His harsh tone made everyone in the room shift their attention towards you. Your blood ran hot with embarrassment, feeling Izana’s purple eyes scan you up and down in disgust while everyone else just looks at you. Mikey’s gaze burned holes into you as well, silently asking you what the fuck you were doing here.

It was obvious. They never wanted you here. This entire thing was a mistake from the beginning.

"I-I'm glad I could walk with you all the way here, Emma" you stuttered, lying through your teeth. You didn't like the way both brothers were staring at you, like they could walk over to you and wring your neck at any moment. "I'll go join the party downstairs now, so I guess I'll see you soon-"

Pulling away from her brothers abruptly, the blonde girl rushed over to you and grabbed your arm, halting your attempt at running away as she dragged you back in place. You cursed underneath your breath at Emma’s desperate attempt to try to get you to stay.

“Hold on, now (name). I’ll talk to them” Emma whispered reassuringly, before turning to her brothers and increasing her voice in full volume. "She's here with me, is there a problem?”

There was a tense silence in the room as everyone stared at you. Mikey's tone was ice cold as he directed his angry gaze at you, dark eyes scanning down your body. You shuddered when his gaze settled on your legs just briefly before snapping back at Emma’s face.

"Emma. When I sent you that text, I specifically said you should come ALONE."

You felt your heart twist in your chest at the emphasis of that word from none other than Mikey. He really hated you.

"Come on Mikey. This is ridiculous." Emma plead your case. You don't realize you're shaking until your friend squeezed your hand gently in an attempt to calm you down and you squeezed back, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. "Why would I leave her downstairs?"

"Because that’s where all the beggars like her stay."

Your eyes widened the second the words left his mouth, Emma following suit at his words. The shock was soon replaced by embarrassment as Izana looked at you with a devious smile on his face, continuing his verbal assault. "What? I was just making an astute observation. You did say she was poor, so am I really wrong?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you Izana-”

“Wait-” Mikey cuts in again, holding a hand to silence her, his eyes fixated onto your outfit, the wheels in his brain turning as he scanned your clothes from head to toe. You suddenly felt naked in the simple white top and jean skirt you wore, as he actually looked at you properly for the first time.

Your shyness is quickly short lived as his facial expression morphed from one of neutrality to nothing but pure rage.

“Is that the jean skirt I bought for you, Emma?”

Your heart dropped at how loud he barked, completely silencing everybody in the room. All eyes fell on you now, putting you at the center stage of attention. Emma quickly pushed you behind her, trying to shield you from their staring the moment she realized what was about to happen.

“Mikey, wait, I was the one who insisted she should wear it, not her.” Emma started to explain, her tone apologetic. “She had nothing to wear and i gave her those since you complained she dressed like a nun-”

“So you decided to dress her up like a cheap hooker instead?” Izana scoffed nonchalantly, his eyes flickering over to your outfit. “You know your clothes looks so cheap and washed out on her. She looks like she stands on the streets and asks for sex in exchange for money.”

"Izana!”

Emma started to reprimand her brother when Mikey cut in again to join Izana in practically insulting you. “Come on Emma, look at your friend. One wrong move and she’ll flash her panties. Don’t you think she’s looking a bit too desperate?”

Your hand flies to the edge of your skirt, dragging it down to try and cover up your legs as the gazes of the men leering at your legs. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Mikey, who is quick to point it out. “See? Even your friend knows she looks like a hooker. She’s trying to pull your skirt down because she knows she’s guilty...”

Each word seemed to stab you in the heart multiple times. You quickly averted your eyes to the ground as he continued to berate you about your looks, tearing down your confidence bit by bit with each word until you're reduced into nothing but nerves and silent tears. Everyone was staring at you now, scrutinizing gazes drinking in the sight of your exposed flesh, snickering quietly.

Unwanted attention.

"Next time, she shouldn't dress like this if she wants to tag along with you…"

“THAT IS ENOUGH."

Emma’s voice rang through the entire room, anger evident in her tone. The two brothers sat there in silence, stunned at the kind of tone Emma had just used on them right now, as if they’ve never heard or seen her this angry in their life before. You could feel her tremble violently, her grip on your hand tightening as fury radiated from her body.

You were sure she’s holding back things to say with how badly she is shaking. Like she doesn’t want to say anything that she might regret saying. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it immediately, as if biting her words back.

"We're leaving."

“EMMA-”

“Oh come ON-”

Emma threw an arm around you and guided you out of the room amidst her brothers yelling at her to come back. Your friend is gentle with you, hiding your teary face from prying eyes as she leads you through the stairs. The loud music was enough to mask your uncontrolled sobbing, but it didn’t stop people with prying eyes from turning their gazes towards you, wondering what the hell happened to you.

You had never felt this embarrassed in your life. As much as Emma tried to comfort you on your way to her room, their words kept on reverberating in your head. You knew how hard it was to get out of that mindset and now, every confidence you worked for, has crashed down like a pile of cards. Even the way they looked at you made you feel so sick to your stomach.

You've been drilled into as a young child that you're dressed the way you're addressed and because of that, you have always made sure you looked modest enough. You were used to your brothers calling innocent girls whores because of what they wore, that they were asking for it.

And now witnessing it first hand just made you feel so dirty. From the way they looked at you, to how they spoke about your body. It made you ill to the core.

You’ve never been so humiliated in your life.

The two of you managed to walk back to Emma's room, since hers was closer. Her phone never stopped buzzing all through your journey, even when you got back to her room. You could see the pain in her eyes as she ignored each call, only worsening your guilt. You wished you had stayed back in the dorms instead of ruining her night; she was supposed to be having fun, not walking you back to your room prematurely because you couldn’t take criticism.

"You should pic-"

"No (name)." Emma was quick to assert as she helped you lay down on her queen sized bed, the soft surface. "You don't need to feel pity for them, you're the one they hurt, not the other way around."

You wanted to protest when she fell on the bed beside you, yanking her covers over you both and encasing you in a hug. "You don't have to worry about them. I just want you to feel better." She whispered in your ears, rubbing your back gently. "You looked good tonight."

You could only nod in response at Emma's affirmation, wanting to so badly believe her. You want to believe what Emma thinks about you but you just can’t when you feel like abject filth. Your lips began to wobble, tears rolling down your cheeks once again as their words rang in your ears.

Months of unpacking that trauma, flushed down the drain by a single action.

Emma didn't say anything in response to your fresh tears, she only hugged you tight and rubbed circles on your back to soothe you until you cried yourself to sleep.

“YOU implied that she’s a fucking prostitute Mikey, what the hell did I misunderstand?”

You woke up with a start on hearing Emma’s harsh tone echo throughout the room.

You opened your eyes groggily, rolling the covers down a little bit to see what was going on. She was standing at the open door, changed into her pink nightgown, her hair cascading down her shoulder as she argued with someone in the hallways. You push the covers a little further to see who she was talking to, catching a glimpse of a blond haired male standing in the hallways, blocking the only source of light filtering into the room with his body.

“Don’t yell at me, I’m still your older brother.”

‘Mikey?’

You perk up at his voice, instantly awake hearing his irritated tone. What was Mikey even doing in the female dorms by this time of the night? You glance at Emma’s sanrio clock on her nightstand that reads 00:00am. By now, no male student is supposed to be here, but knowing how influential Mikey is, he might have bribed the security to let him in.

His quiet sigh interrupted your thoughts and you turned your attention back to them, wondering what was going on. He started talking again, taking a tone much softer than before. “You’ve changed Emma. You blow me off to spend time with a stranger-”

“She is not a strang-”

“She is to me. You have enough friends Emma, what do you need this one for? What’s so fucking special about her?” His voice grows harsh again as he goes off a tangent about you. “You’re gonna get tired of her Emma. She’s a new thing but sooner or later you’ll get sick of her.”

Your heart broke at Mikey’s words. Is that what he thinks of you? This was supposed to be the easy going guy on campus that helped girls cross the street and everyone liked?

What did you ever do to him?

“Stop it!” Emma hissed underneath her breath, trying to keep her voice down but drive her point across simultaneously. “Stop talking about (name) like she’s a pet or a fucking toy Mikey. I care for her and I won’t stand you talking shit about her.”

“Em for fuck sake, just get dressed and get your ass back to the party.” Your jaw nearly dropped at how he’s quick to switch topics, ignoring what she just said. “Draken’s waiting downstairs and Izana’s gonna be pissed if you don’t come back.”

“You’re gonna ignore everything I just said right now, huh?”

“Em-”

“You and Izana can go fuck yourselves.”

“You can’t be seriou-”

Emma didn’t let him finish when she slammed the door in his face, turning the key as fast as possible. Her body sagged on the door, a quiet ‘god’ escaping her lips. Her silhouette stayed in that position for two full minutes before she walked to the bed again.

In silence, she laid beside you, wrapping an arm around your body and dragging the blankets over you both once again. You felt safe.

THE next few days after the party were eventful.

Emma had spent them with you, hanging out in the library to study and going to your work place after a hard day at school, just sitting and talking with you when there was no customer around. You ended up in your dorm room or hers afterwards, eating the snacks you both got from shops around the school.

It was nice. Emma was usually busy with other things, so having her with you all the time seems so perfect. You enjoy the quality time you spend with her, really.

But guilt wouldn’t let you do so.

She had isolated herself from her friend group affiliated with either of her brothers, ignoring their pleas to at least talk to either Mikey or Izana. Hina or Senju would try to walk up to her on her way to class and Emma would outright ignore them. In a span of days, you’ve seen countless plushies, perfumes, expensive jewelry thrown into the dustbin, either from Mikey or Izana at the back of her dorm- their apology ripped letters ripped to shreds.

You had taken the time to piece one from Izana together and felt your heart bleed at his begging for them to “please work it out. We may not be siblings by blood but you’ll always be my little sister” and Mikey’s “Em I’m sorry for everything. Please let’s talk, I’ll listen to you.”

Your brothers had never done anything like that before. Usually, they would tell you to suck it up or even laugh at you for being too ‘sensitive’.

Then and there, you decided to talk to either of the Sano brothers in hopes you would mend their relationship. A naïve part of you thinks that this is the right thing for you to do; Emma has done so much for you, it’s time to return the favor.

You hadn’t told Emma what you planned on doing, knowing very well that it would make the poor girl far more furious than she was already. She would tell you that you have nothing to apologize for and get angry with you for suggesting to make peace with them, claiming you did nothing wrong.

The last thing you want is to escalate the issue. You just wanted Emma’s happiness.

You gripped the strap of your tote bag firmly, your eyes fixated on Mikey’s Chevrolet that was outside your department, possibly waiting for Emma to come out so that he would talk to her. Gathering all your courage, you walked towards the car and gently knock on the passenger’s seat tinted window to get his attention.

It wound down immediately, revealing the blonde haired man staring back at you with an annoyed expression.

“Are you trying to break my window?”

His rude tone made you instantly regret even trying to talk to him. Unfortunately for you, the decision was made and you stuck to it. ‘The letters, remember the letters’ You whispered to yourself. “I’m sorry Mikey I didn’t mean-”

“Manjiro.”

You blink twice at his interruption, trying to make sense of what was going on. “Huh?”

“Only my friends call me Mikey and as far I’m concerned, you aren’t one of them.”

There it is. That same attitude of that night. It almost made you angry with the way he was talking to you. You had every right to walk away from him - he was the one consistently harassing you, not the other way around, so who does he think he is?

Instead, you took a deep breath, thinking about just being the bigger person and how you want to make peace with him, so that everything returned to normal. “Okay, I’m sorry about your window Manjiro.” You added politely. “Can we talk?”

He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously and you expected him to roll up his window and just drive away after that.

“Get in.”

You were shocked, but that quickly wore off when he opened the door for you to enter. You settled in quickly, snapping the seatbelt on after closing the door behind you.

There’s tense silence between the two of you as the car moved towards a more secluded part of the campus. You anxiously looked at your lap while he drove, wondering how you were going to start the conversation with him without instantly setting him off. Your gaze eventually drifted up to his face; from his half-lidded dark eyes to his straight nose, down to his soft pink lips.

You could see the resemblance between him and Emma, from their facial structure to genuinely good skin -not to mention they were both attractive. Despite his height, you knew a large amount of girls that crushed on him religiously, you included. You heard he treated any girl he was with, from his ex-girlfriends to his situationships, down to his one night stands with utmost respect and care. And despite everything he’s said to you, unlike his brother, he never hurt you violently or physically.

You just wished he was just as polite with you as he was with other girls. Maybe you could bring it up in discussions.

The car stops, bringing you back to reality. You realized that he had parked behind an abandoned class far behind the rest of the school. According to the university’s history, this was the first ever lecture hall that was built for the school, and eventually they decided not to renovate it as a remembrance from their little beginnings.

Or they didn’t want to spend any money on it.

Mikey switched the engine off, completely silencing the environment between the two of you. It is then that the realization hits you. You’re all alone with one of the most dangerous guys in this school, in a place where no one could hear you even if you scream. The thought makes you nervous, hoping to high heavens that Manjiro doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Well?” He asked, breaking the ice between the two of you. Mikey leaned back on the driver’s seat, turning to look at you. “You wanted to talk? Start talking.”

‘Okay. I can do this’ You whispered gently, exhaling through your lips. You can do this. “Mike- I-i mean Manjiro, I know it’s awkward, after everything that happened at the party and now it’s all a mess.” You cringed at the way you’re jumbling your words, this was not how it was meant to go. “We still haven’t resolved things yet-”

“We?”

You’re taken aback by his shocked tone as if he didn’t remember what both he and Izana had said to you, but when he doesn’t elaborate further, you take matters into your own hands. “Yes. You both said some unsavory things to me that hurt me that day, and it made Emma mad.” You paced yourself, not wanting to start rambling again. “I also want to apologize for disrupting your party by taking those words to heart and if I have offended you in any way, please forgive me.”

There’s an unreadable expression on his face, as if he’s slowly processing all the words you had just said. You watched his reaction morph from surprise to blankness, nothing on his face, which scared you more than any other expression.

“Get out of my car.”

What?

You quickly turned to the man, trying to understand what you had done wrong. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go in your head. You expected that Manjiro would be civil enough to at least apologize for his actions too or talk, not this. “Wait, Manjiro, what did I say wrong-”

“You don’t even realize you’re the problem!” You nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden increase in his pitch as he bares out his frustration with you. “Em can never fucking shut up about how I need to apologize to you whenever I try to talk to her! It’s always about you, you, you! It’s frustrating.” he snapped. “Ever since you came into Em’s life, she just can’t help herself bringing you up. It’s always shit like ‘Oh, (name) is such a nice girl, you should talk to her, she’s a good listener.’ ‘Sorry I can’t come to the outings, I have to study with (name), you know she can’t go alone anywhere’ ‘Oh, this reminds me of (name), she can’t even say the word sex without hiding her face, she’s so innocent.’ She’s so fucking enamoured with you and we’re sick of it.”

You knew the brothers were extremely family motivated, but you had no idea that you were getting in the way of them spending time together. “I didn’t know...” Your voice shakes, tone apologetic as your gaze falls onto your lap. “I…I didn’t know I was causing a rift between you guys, I’m so sorry. I just want to make up for everything and put this behind us.”

A tense silence followed, and you didn't look up from your lap to look at Manjiro, still intimidated at his sudden outburst. You could understand their aversion to you, their family is quite close and their bonds intertwined; so for a stranger to barge in and attempt to tear things apart, even unknowingly can be frightening for them.

Not like you would know what it is like for family to love you.

Eventually, you feel Manjiro turn his gaze towards you, dark eyes scanning your figure until settling on you. You held your breath as he finally cleared his throat, turning his attention to you fully for the first time, ever as he began to speak.

“You want us to make up.”

His tone was plain, as opposed to how angry he sounded a few moments ago. Somehow, you feel weird, slightly more alert than before as he pauses again, goosebumps littering your skin. ‘What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel so scared as he’s staring at me?’ you questioned yourself, before shaking your head, clearing your thoughts. ‘This is Mikey I’m with. Sure, he’s intimidating, but he would never hurt a girl. He’s a good guy.’

You decided to push your odd feelings aside. You were here for peace, not to think ill of him, not especially when you have a soft spot for him in your heart. And you wanted it to happen by any means necessary. Maybe showing him you were not a threat to his place in Emma’s life would make him feel much better around you. “I know that you may not trust me, but maybe if you got to know me better, and I also got to know you and your friends, you’ll see I mean no harm.”

“Is that so? You want us to know each other better?”

It was slight, but you could hear it. The slight mocking tone in his voice and instantly you felt stupid. It was clear he wasn’t taking you or your request seriously as you hoped he would, opting to see right through you instead as he stared at you, his gaze lingering to your hands lying in your lap.

“I-i feel like you’re not taking me seriously-"

“If you wore a longer skirt, then I wouldn’t have gotten so distracted.”

You instantly felt self-conscious when you realized where his gaze truly was from that moment on, and started dragging down your skirt to cover the space between your thighs and socks. The action only seemed to annoy him. “This is my problem with you. If you knew it was short, why did you wear it then?”

“I thought it was cute-” You felt stupider, uttering those words, but before you could say anything else, Mikey cut you off. “I never said it wasn’t cute, (name). It’s a cute skirt. It looks good on you.”

Your heart jumps in excitement at his compliment, your entire body getting warm at his words. “Really?” You uttered shyly, letting your guard down as a small smile crawls up your pretty lips.

“Yeah, real cute. You’d fit as one of the actresses featured in the schoolgirl category on a porn site.”

Your smile dropped instantly as the words left his mouth. “I’m not a slut.” your voice trembled, but just like arguing with your father, it’s no use. He let out a loud scoff, his gaze flickering from your face to your lap, settling between your legs. “But you dress like one. So might as well just perform for me, hmm?”

Your body tenses as you feel a hot palm grab at your exposed thigh, crawling underneath your skirt. You quickly push his hand off your thighs, earning a somewhat shocked reaction from him, as if he’s not used to being rejected. “I’m not…” you start to explain to him, slowly reaching for the door in a bid to escape. “... I don’t do things like that-”

“Does it look like I fucking care?” The blonde man snapped back at you, his surprise giving way to annoyance and he started to grab at your thighs again, only to be brushed off by you, angering him further. “I know you’re not as “innocent” as you claim to be. Stop fucking pretending. I know you want this!”

“I said I don’t do stuff like that! Stop it!” You yelled back at him, frustrated that he can’t just take no for an answer. You try to pry the door open or undo the latch, only to discover that it was stuck and that there was no way out.

‘No, no, no, no…’

Your heart starts hammering loudly in your chest, dread filling your veins when you realized how alone and utterly fucked you are.

You’re beginning to realize that Manjiro driving the both of you to a secluded place in the middle of nowhere was most likely intentional. He must have planned this so that no one would hear you both.

“Manjiro open the door or I’ll- I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what?” He spat back, dangling the keys before your very eyes before putting it somewhere you couldn’t see. “You wanna open the door so bad? Get the key from me then.”

You’re quick to react, lunging forward in an attempt to snatch the key for him. He easily resisted you grabbing at his body while laughing at your repeated screams to stop. It was like the more you begged and pleaded for him to let you go, the more he liked whatever game he was playing.

“THIS ISN’T FUNN- MANJIRO!”

Your screaming did nothing to deter him from practically jumping on you and pinning your arms against your chest with one firm hand, a leg separating your thighs. You twisted and turned, trying to fight your way out of his tight grip but to no avail. He was heavy and stronger than you had imagined, holding onto you like you weighed nothing at all.

His other hand reached underneath your skirt, skimming through your panties, making you squirm in your position at the feeling. Panic rises against your chest as he pushes the crotch part aside, revealing your pussy. “Wait! Wait, please Manjiro, I’m a virgin-” you try to reason with him as he traces through a streak of your hairy vulva, curling a strand in one finger before moving to your clit.

“You don’t shave?” His tone is so casual, like he isn’t doing something very abhorrent and wrong right now. His question is left hanging in the air as his finger starts to slowly circle around your clit. "Not like I care, it's better this way, anyways."

You’ve never been touched before. You’ve never touched yourself there either. You grew up in a household that taught you that anyone who isn’t your husband touching you is wrong. Your body is a temple to be kept for your husband.

So when Mikey’s slow and sensual movement against your clit begins, your body nearly seizes up with sensitivity. A loud gasp escapes your lips, followed by heavy breathing, your body shuddering with something unfamiliar and electric, sending signals that you didn’t know how to respond.

He strokes you faster, rubbing your sensitive nub in circles that has your eyes glazing over and your hips moving to feel more of his touches, wetting his car seat and your skirt with arousal. Mikey watched with interest the way you closed your eyes tight, your head lolled towards the side as your chest rises and falls, quiet ‘oh’ leaving your lips. He started to take it a step further, leaning over to your neck and trails kisses from your pulse point, to your jawline. He moved up to your ear and his long tongue darted towards the shell, licking it.

“Manjiro-” You gasped at the foreign wetness, with each flick of his tongue, sending pleasurable shivers down your body to your very core. Encouraged by your somewhat positive response, he continues licking your earlobe, his teeth occasionally grazing the shell as his fingers progressively leaves your clit, gathering your slick between his two fingers and tracing the outline of your hole.

“Shit” he groaned, feeling how wet you were. “You’re so wet right now, I could just slide in your pussy with ease.”

You wanted to protest when you felt two thick fingers inch into your unused hole. You wanted to push him off you and run out of the car until you were far away from him. Every part of your mind, your heart, everything in you wants Mikey OFF you as he forces your hole to accept his fingers.

And yet, you couldn’t even scream, you couldn’t claw at his face to scratch his eyes out for doing this to you. No. Instead, you’re arching your back and breathing his name into his ears over and over again, your hands clenched tightly in his grip as his fingers stretched your pussy out. All you do is tear up and let this sick pervert lick the salt rolling down your cheeks off, before going back to kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“You’re so pretty when you cry f’me. Come on, keep making those noises.”

He curled up his fingers, experimentally looking for that spot as the burn graduated to a pleasurable stretch, repeated moans leaving your lips. He fingered you, progressively increasing his speed and pleasure overriding your senses as he circled his thumb over your poor nub, simultaneously with him curling up your g-spot.

Your body responded to his touches, lips kissing up and down your neck, licking your pulse point before sinking his teeth and mouth on it, making you gasp loudly.

Everything was too much. Your pussy tightened around his fingers, thighs trembling as he brought you closer to the edge. His lips left your neck and kissed up to your jaw, then the corner of your lips, pumping into you faster until you started to spasm.

“M-manjiro I-i feel, I feel- hngh-”

You arched your back uncomfortably with a strangled cry, soaking his fingers as your vision went blinding white. Your body trembled as he fucks and kisses you through your orgasm, shaking in his grasp until you fall limp on the chair, well spent.

You’re catching your breath as his fingers slid out of your pussy, a string of your cum connecting them. Manjiro looked at his soaked fingers with interest, before popping them in his mouth and humming to himself in approval. The sight feels so wrong to look at and you can’t find the strength to look away as he licked his fingers clean of your musky taste.

You don’t say anything when he let go of your wrists and adjusted your panties so that it covered your pussy. The blonde haired man climbed back to his seat, starting up the engine of his car again.

He doesn’t say anything when you start sobbing.

“I GOT you food.”

You didn’t respond to Manjiro, hanging your face as tears rolled down your face. It’s the position you had assumed since he climbed off your body, something he couldn’t get you out. He thought that maybe if he got you some food, maybe you’ll ease up and eat.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Kissing his teeth, he entered back into the driver's seat before closing the door behind him, tossing the food at the back seat. You could tell from the way he was muttering underneath his breath that he was growing more annoyed with you. “Honestly, I don’t know why the hell you’re crying. You’re still a virgin. I didn’t force myself on you.”

You didn’t know what else to expect from him. That he would even offer you a shred of apology for what he did? The way his words are so callous, lacking any form of tact in the way he’s brushing off what he just did tore you apart.

Emma had painted this man as someone who would hang the moon and stars for her. Someone she knew she could call if anything was going to happen to her, who would fight through hell and back for her safety. She had told you of how he beat up anyone that touched her wrongly and how he would try to make her forget anything unpleasant. To Emma, Mikey was her knight in shining armor, her hero.

This was a man you had loved with all your heart. Manjiro was your first ever crush, and the more good you heard about him, not just from Emma, but from other girls too, the deeper you fell for him. You had admired him from afar, your heart set onto him as you hoped to be at least close to him. Despite everything, he was the sun in which everyone revolved around, the heart throb of your dreams.

But when you turn to look at him through your teary gaze, watching him rev up his car engine with a nonchalant expression on his face, all you see is a vile soul.

You felt sick.

“I’m going to tell Emma.”

Your voice was quiet, hoarse from all the sobbing but the anger was evident. There was no way you were going to let him get away scott free. You knew that the police would be as good as useless because you’ll have no evidence by the time you manage to file a complaint. The school authorities won’t help you either as Shinichiro Sano was one of their biggest benefactors and everyone in the faculty loved Manjiro despite his tendency to be disrespectful.

But if you told Emma, you know she’ll believe you. Even if the entire world was against you and for him, you would still be able to get her to take your side and stand with you.

You’re sure name dropping his little sister would make him scared at the very least. Mikey loved her to death, she had this perfect image of her sweet older brother that he has to uphold at the very least.

Without skipping a beat, he dropped his own phone straight onto your lap before continuing to focus on the road. Eyes wide, you turned your head to Mikey to see any form of reaction, even him flinching slightly.

Nothing.

Your mouth hung open at how he just blankly stared at the road ahead of him, his grip on the steering wheel normal as he drove you back to campus. As if he’s innocent, like he didn’t force his fingers into your panties and violate you.

His nonchalance irritates you; it’s as if he doesn’t care what you say or do to him.

“What?” you questioned him, wondering where the hell he dropped his humanity? Any other person would have reacted; begging you, threatening you or even giving a flimsy apology. “-why did you drop this on my lap?”

“You wanna call her? Go ahead.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Not like you told me no when I was fingering you.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Then how does it work?” He cuts you short, taking a right turn to park outside of your faculty building. He puts the car in park before turning to face you. “You walk up to my car to ask me if we could talk, wearing that kind of skirt that gave me access to you. When I told you to get out, you didn‘t leave. You never told me to stop and you didn’t struggle. You know what you did instead?”

“Sto-”

“Ah ah- Manjiro” he mocked you in a high pitched voice, making you cover your ears in humiliation, not wanting to hear anything from him. You wanted to throw up, ruin his car. You want the ground to swallow you whole, anything that would take him far away from you. “Ah, mmh Manjiro, mmh mhhh ah ah- you moan like a pornstar by the way. You seem like you enjoyed being treated like that.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but all you felt was bile rise up to your throat. A part of you nagged that he had a point; you never said anything that sounded like ‘stop’ or ‘no’ and how you positively responded to his touches. ‘You even orgasmed.’ A gnarly disgusting voice bubbles up in your head, in defense of Mikey. ‘It was obvious you enjoyed it. Every second of it.’

You tried to deny it. Try to block out that voice as you attempt to remember everything you were told about assault. You’re fighting a war in your head, against the intrusive voices as you picked up the phone to tell Emma. ‘She’ll believe me. She’ll believe me-’

“Face it. You’re just overreacting because you liked what we did.”

Those words were the final nail to the coffin. The phone lies in your limp hand, finger just above Emma’s line to call her. Everything that led up to this point involved your choices. To stay in his car. Not fighting harder. Never screaming no.

You let him dirty your temple.

Mikey spared you one more look, dark eyes scanning every inch of your crumpled form. He slides the device out of your hand, placing it back in the middle of his car before grasping your hand in his.

“Alright, stop crying.” he soothed in faux sympathy, thumb tracing over the back of your palm. “I’ll take you shopping and buy you new clothes, hmm? And I’ll buy you anything else you want. Okay?”

You should known better to believe him. After everything he has done to you, from consistently insulting you, to assaulting you and then making you feel guilty for giving him the opportunity to do so.

And yet, you’re nodding along, agreeing with him and letting his warmth engulf you. “Okay.” You said in a small voice, your free hand grasping the hem of your skirt tightly.

“Look at me.”

You felt another hand grasp your chin, forcing you to look at his face, dark eyes peering at your face. “I don’t like that look on your face.” You wince as his fingers tightened around your jaw, your heart hammering against your chest when he commanded you once again. “Smile.”

You don’t know what else to do. With Mikey, it’s like going to a war knowing fully well you would lose.

And so you do as you’re told. Your lips lifted at the corners forcefully and you gave your best smile. He returned it with a smile of his own, genuine to the point his eyes dilated.

“Good girl. You look so much better.”

Your mouth went dry at his statement when he withdrew from your body and unlocked the door for you. Deciding not to ponder on it, you reach for the handle to leave. You had a class in an hour’s time and you were supposed to meet up with Emma beforehand to return her laptop that you borrowed for her project.

“Wait.”

You paused in your tracks, your hand hovering above the door handle. What else does he want from you?

“Your makeup is ruined. Fix it. You don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea that I hurt you when we were just playing with each other.”

Bile rose into your mouth once again at his words, but you hold yourself from doing anything that would set him off. You only nodded in response before opening the door and exiting the car. Tears threatened to escape your eyes as you hurried off to class, your throat burning with anger as you gripped both your tote bag and the food he had gotten for you, hard. Your body shook with each step feeling the intensity of his dark eyes burning into you.

You never touched the food, throwing it in the trash bin due to your appetite eluding you, replaced with a sinking feeling of pain and humiliation into your stomach. You don’t make it to the rest of your classes either, opting to lock yourself in a toilet, a loud cry ripping from your throat into your palms as your heart breaks into tiny pieces.

How could this have happened?

Bonus Scene:

MIKEY never tore his gaze from you as you disappeared into the building. Dark eyes watched as your ass bounced in that jean skirt you had worn today, nearly reviving the boner he had prior. He had to admit, notwithstanding his absolute disgust for you, you were a sight for sore eyes - pretty, naive, inexperienced and tight. So goddamn tight.

He’s never been with an inexperienced girl before. Not even when he lost his virginity in high school. It didn’t hurt that you also had the sexiest thighs he’s ever seen either, soft and doughy underneath his touch.

You weren’t as stupid as he thought -far from it. Mikey knew your strategy; picking your battles carefully. You’re rightfully afraid of both him and Izana. You were even more afraid of losing face with Emma, the only friend you managed to make here, which is why you came to him because you felt guilty for making her mad at them.

If played right, they could have you underneath their thumb like they do with the rest of Emma’s other friends. All this was to keep an eye on their little sister in the long run, to restore the natural order and balance that was their system. Family came first, then the gang, then their friends and finally, if they cared enough, their lovers. It’s a cycle that Mikey is used to, being the center of attention in Emma’s life and sharing that space with Izana. Even Draken knew that there are times he shouldn’t intrude when the two brothers are with her.

But you had no regard for the order of things. You just tried to insert yourself into his and Izana’s circles, as if you were somebody of any importance and not just another, a little gnat.

To Mikey, you deserved to be crushed like the annoying gnat you are. Seeing you cry and tremble underneath his touch, hearing you moan and beg him like a slut made him feel good.

Mikey looked at the building again before looking at his watch. He had to attend his criminology lecture by 3pm since he had a presentation today and it was already 1:30pm, having taken out time to talk to you. The frat member he gave his presentation to edit must be waiting for him at the coffee shop.

“I might not be able to meet up with ‘Zana.” He muttered, picking up his phone to dial him up instead. Finally, after the fifth ring, his line went through, his rough voice echoing through the phone.

“Mikey? What is it?”

Mikey could hear a bit of shuffling from the other end of the phone, and a quiet “Izana” spilling from a rather feminine voice, only for Izana to bark at the girl to shut up, effectively silencing her.

“Did I catch you at the wrong time?”

“No.” He grumbled. “Do you have any updates on Emma?”

“In a way, yes. I do.”

“In a way?”

“I have a feeling you’re not going to like my plan, regardless.”

Izana sighed from the other side of the line, probably sick and tired of the constant mind games Emma was playing with them and to be fair, even he was sick of it as well. Their little sister was easy to annoy but easier to please; so for her not to be as forgiving this time was frustrating. Mikey had played every game in the book he knew to please Emma and even Izana had put in far more effort than he cared to, but nothing worked.

Unless…

“It involves her, doesn’t it?”

Mikey could hear the irritation in his brother's voice, but then again, if they wanted peace to reign and for Shinichiro not to get directly involved in this issue in your favour, they were going to have to play it the smarter way.

“Not like we have a choice. Emma’s attached to that girl by the hip. You’ll just have to trust me on this one.”

Also, it doesn't hurt to have a little fun on the side.

author's notes: reblogs, comments and asks are highly appreciated. my taglist for all my fics are wide open, so do ensure to sign up. please be very patient with me as for updates, school has started and i may not be able to be consistent, but i will try my very best to finish this story this year.

I do not consent to my works being promoted, published or translated on any site or social media without my permission.

taglist (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @getonite @anxious-chick @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra

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whatawaitsus · 10 months

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It's your final year at Killian Argent's School for the Supernatural; a prestigious boarding school for supernatural beings. In theory this doesn't mean much. Your future has been set since you were a child: graduate from a prestigious boarding school, get into an equally prestigious college that your parents will pay for, and then get a prestigious well-paying job with your father's connections. It is what is, you're past the point of complaining at this point in your life.

Despite being one of the most expensive schools in the nation, nothing particularly interesting has happened at the school in the nine years you've been here— aside from the occasional accidental possession caused by a ghost or the common room getting flooded after a nixie gets too frustrated over their homework.

That is until students start to go missing.

Oh, and you start having prophetic dreams of your missing brother. But, that's probably better to unpack later, in all honesty.

What Awaits Us is upcoming choicescript interactive fiction project. The game is rated 16+ for violence, manipulation, kidnapping, strong language, drug use, religious imagery and trauma and optional suggestive content.

Choose what kind of witch you are; customize your gender, pronouns, sexuality, physical appearance, personality, magic class, uniform style, dorm decor, familiar, and more.

Balance trying to solve the disappearances of your peers and your performance as a student.

Establish your relationships with your parents and older brother by playing through flashbacks.

Deicide on your class schedule and extracurricular activity that will have the ability to affect your stats.

Choose one out of five romantic options; a moody kitsune, an expressive siren, a bubbly godling, or a quiet godling, or an apathetic arachne.

Solve the mystery of the missing kids and potentially get a lead on your runaway brother.

Unwillingly gain a weird almost mentor figure in the form of one of your teachers.

Rei Nakamura [they/them, kitsune]: C's roommate. Rei has been at this school as long as you, though your interactions are next to none. You always spot their name at the top of all the classes you share. They generally keep to themselves, only interacting with C and the kids they tutor. When they do talk it's usually an insult or a refusal to do something. It's not a surprise that they're generally disliked by most of the school. How they happened to befriend an outgoing siren is beyond you.

Cleo/Cyrus Valtameri [gender selectable, siren]: Rei's roommate. C is.. a lot. They transferred during your ninth term; originally from Drialia, which is clear from their accent. They joined the theater club nearly as soon as they were enrolled and have landed nearly every lead since then. The two of you don't interact much, but when you do happen to cross paths they're always animatedly nice to you; they're like that to everyone except Rei, really. You almost swear you've seen the two of them point at you and laugh.

Lydia Taylor* [she/her, godling]: Lukas's twin sister. You've been partnered up with Lydia a few times for projects and she's always a diligent student. She's in the boxing club, which is honestly kind of intimidating, especially after what happened between her and Stephan Kim in your sixth term. But, she's always been plenty nice to you too, not fake nice like you've realized most of your classmates are. She and her brother are never apart from eachother, either.

Lukas Taylor [he/him, godling]: Lydia's twin brother. Lukas Taylor has been going through an 'emo phase' about as long as you've known him. You vaguely remember the mop of strawberry blond hair that was on his head when he first came here, though you have a suspicion he bribed a mage to wipe it from the yearbooks. Lukas is quiet; the polar opposite of his sister. You don't think he's in any clubs, though he is always carrying around a weathered sketchbook.

Nico/Nadia Ruiz-Estrada [gender selectable, arachne]: Your roommate. N and you have shared a dorm for the past five years, and they're possibly your best friend. Despite constantly skipping all of their classes, barring the ones the two of you share, their grades remain high. Even after knowing them for six years you still don't know if they care about anything besides displeasing their older sister. They started a band in your ninth year; Bite The Bullet. Half of the kids in your term are convinced they were formerly in prison, something that makes N laugh hysterically whenever you bring it up.

Polyamorous routes available with Rei & Cleo/Cyrus and Lukas & Nico/Nadia.

*Lydia is only romancable by female and nonbinary MC's.*

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive game #choicescript #choice of games #cog #choose your own adventure #cyoa #cyoa game #no demo #interact-if #interact if #hosted games #dashingdon #if wip #if game #interaction fiction wip

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melancholicbutterflies · 1 year

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You Don’t Own Me

Summary: You’re tired of Elvis always telling you what you can and cannot do as his wife. You decide to pushback. He puts you in your place.

Warnings: underage, smut, dubious consent, bdsm themes (dd/lg), cursing, yandere!Elvis themes, breeding kink, 18+ (cannot stress this enough!)

Word Count: 4,046

It was a decision you would come to regret, but you were young and naive, and dreaming of a better life.

You met him at your high school. Elvis, up and coming rock ‘n roll sensation, had just returned from two years in the service and had successfully reformed his bad boy image in the eyes of parents everywhere. As such, he was permitted in venues since objected to (and the ones of teenage girls’ wet dreams).

Elvis the Pelvis was coming to your school, and students and teachers alike were all abuzz. Growing up in a very Christian family, you weren’t allowed to watch his performances, and knew only what you heard from friends of less strict upbringings, and the odd radio programming when you snuck into the teacher’s lounge.

Nothing could prepare you for what he looked like up close. Thick, dark hair that was somewhat cartoonish framed a devilishly handsome, tanned face with high cheekbones, sultry eyes, and a snarling smile that beckoned you. And he was tall, taller than any of the boys in class (although they were much younger, you had to concede). Still, he looked dapper in his suit, his well-loved acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder, devil hips cocked to one side.

He was a stunner, all right, and you were as good as gone.

You watched as he gave each and every person his undivided attention, all smiles and bashful head ducks. You wouldn’t have pegged him for humble, couldn’t imagine him being so with the amount of talent and charm and good looks he’d been endowed with, but he surpassed your every expectation. He was here to teach some scripture, and at some point he wove in some music, too. His voice was like a siren’s, no business singing such innocently devout lyrics.

At the end everyone clapped, and he went to signing autographs; the line took up the whole classroom and wrapped around the hallway as other students from classes that broke out joined in.

When it was your turn, he started, “who should I make it out to?” Pen poised, eyes tired as he lifted them to look at you with a waning smile, and he stopped. Nearly dropped the pad of paper then and there as he stared at you. You stared back, entranced, and found you were the first to break eye contact. “Well, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N, huh” he snapped out of his reverie, eyes alight with... something, as he licked his lips. “What a pretty name for a pretty gal,” he scribbled something on the pad of paper, barely legible, but finished with a heart. His next words you couldn’t predict in your most wondrous of fantasies:

“Say, you wouldn’t wanna grab a burger and shake with me one o’ these days, would ya? Or am I gettin’ ahead of myself?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, in shock. He laughed, hair flopping as his head tossed back. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You nodded vigorously, finally finding your words, albeit breathily. “Yes!”

“It’s a date,” he said lowly, gaze now stuck on your lips.

It was nothing short of sweet. You avoided your coworkers interested looks as you sat down with Elvis, who’d held your purse as you slid in the booth opposite. You were hungry and he vocalized he liked a girl who ate and set down a tip that was more than you made in a shift. Ice cream followed, a nice walk in the park, and he drove you home, politely not commenting on the sort of neighborhood you lived in. “I had a nice time,” he said in the low light of the fading sun, leaning in real close. “I did, too.” You said it as you looked down in your lap until he picked your chin up, forcing your gaze to his. You thought he looked sinful for someone so religious.

“Good, because I really wanna kiss you, Y/N.”

You stopped him with a hand at his clavicle. “I can’t.” Looking backward, he saw a figure by the window, felt your sudden nervousness. It was about more than just want, and thankfully he understood. “Sure, baby, I get it. You’re unspoiled, aren’t you?” His eyes implored you.

Reticently, you nodded, not fully understanding his meaning but knowing enough.

It should have concerned you how happy he looked at that.

Pretty soon he showed up everywhere. At the local diner, your ballet lessons, even one late night you were out walking your dog, Marnie. You could have sworn you saw a car at the end of the street, eyes watching under darkness. It was unnerving, it was exciting; you hadn’t experienced the weight of someone’s entire attention on you before now.

If you were less naive, you might have questioned why a grown man who had plenty else to do was expending so much effort getting to know you. It all became clear one day when he took you out to dinner, not just at any restaurant, but the fanciest one in town, followed by a romantic moon-lit walk at the beach and kneeled before you in the sand asking you to marry him.

You said yes, of course, and he looked like the happiest man alive as he wrapped you up in a breathtaking kiss. You two couldn’t wait to get to his hotel, and made love right then and there, the sounds of the ocean waves lapping in the distance.

He wanted to marry at once, and only a few days later you were at the courthouse exchanging vows. None of your friends could come (they were all in school), and only a few of his came, including his father, who hadn’t exactly looked favorably on you, but knew his son couldn’t be reasoned with once he set his mind to something. The colonel scowled in the corner, smoking his pipe up a storm. Your mom and dad wanted nothing to do with the whole affair and had all too happily washed their hands of you, signing paperwork to allow you to wed before your eighteenth birthday.

When it was time to say, ‘I do’, you did so enthusiastically, and a beautiful smile broke out on his handsome face. He pulled you in, thumbing your bridal veil, and kissed you like a man possessed. You were forever changed in that moment.

Mrs. Elvis Presley. It was like a dream come true.

And for a while, it was.

Elvis was attentive, doting, a true joy to be around. He took care of everything for you. You wanted for nothing. You were happy, happier than you ever thought possible in your short and, up till now, wretched life. Elvis changed everything for you, and you were eternally grateful.

But, like all dreams, there came a time when reality set in. The bubble burst. Oh, boy, did it ever.

It started with little things, at first.

Before he’d met you, you worked at a diner waiting tables. Now that you were married, he claimed there was no reason to keep waitressing. “Waste of time,” he remarked, “’sides, who’d wanna keep on their feet like that all day long when you don’t have’ta? Nuh-uh, didn’t think so. You’ll put in your notice tomorrah’.”

You thought to object, but he had a point. It was enjoyable enough to you, sure, passed the time all right, and gave you some pocket change to buy things for yourself that your parents never would. But now with Elvis occupying your days, and making just about a hundred times what you ever did after a full day’s work just sitting around, what was the point? Your coworkers, as nice as they were, were hardly reason enough.

So you promptly shut your mouth and smiled, giving him a big hug, and that was that.

Then it was your hair:

“Oh, doll,” he crooned one night after a heavy bout of lovemaking, running his meaty paw through your thick, wavy hair. “Wouldn’t you look good with straightened hair?”

You turned to him in mild surprise, still blissed out. “You never said a thing about my hair before. Don’t you like it?”

“Oh, ‘course I do, baby. I just thought you might like to keep up with the fashion is all. All them girls have their hair straight these days.”

“I guess that’s true.” You admitted. “And, say, maybe you ‘oughta darken it while you’re at it. Might be nice to have us match, you know.” You touched a hand to your hair, furrowing your brows as he leaned in to nuzzle your neck, applying light, sweet kisses there. It was awfully distracting, your hand falling limp on the bed as you gasped.

“Promise me you’ll think ‘bout it, at least...” He murmured low between kisses that went ever lower. “Oh, sure.”

“Good girl,” he growled, and he said something about “...have Jer make an appointment at that salon o’ Sandy’s.” And he proceeded to eat you out.

As time went on, that charming, subtle needling to shift your behaviors in his favor turned meaner:

Once before a press conference, he stopped you in the hallway, seizing your arm. “Hey, what’s wrong—” you winced as he twisted it around harshly in an effort to inspect your hand. “Quit it, E, that hurts.”

“What is this?” He looked at you angrily, disappointed, even.

“What is what?” You didn’t see anything other than your ring, which was where it should be, on your ring finger without anything out of the ordinary. When you saw where his eyes were directed, you realized he meant your nail polish.

“So it’s a little chipped. Who cares?”

“Who cares?” He seethed. “I care, and if you had any sense in ya you would too! Everything you do reflects on me, little girl, so when you look like a cheap hussy, you make me look bad. Make ‘em think I can’t take care of my baby. Get it?”

He wasn’t shouting, he wasn’t even raising his voice, but the venom dripping from his quiet wrath was so much worse.

Tears built at the corner of your eyes and you ducked your head, turning on your heel to run back toward the bedroom before he caught you by the arm again. You thought he’d apologize, say he overreacted. He didn’t. Instead he said: “Dry those eyes, girl, and put on a smile. I don’t care if it ain’t real, but I won’t have ya embarrassin’ me.”

It only snowballed from there.

Your whole wardrobe was thrown out, and a new one replaced to match with Elvis’. You didn’t finish school, didn’t do ballet anymore. You still cooked and baked now and then, but only on special occasions. Mary did all the real cooking in the house, and she already knew what Elvis liked and she did it well. Drinking, although technically not even legal, was forbidden (“a lady shouldn’t drink, you’ll get sloppy and less chivalrous men than myself’ll take advantage. Don’t want that, do ya?”)

Want to go to the movie with some friends? Think again. Boys weren’t allowed anywhere in your vicinity: he barely let Red, trusted bodyguard of the Memphis Mafia, guard you. He said he didn’t like his wandering eye one time. Personally, you thought he was delusional, but didn’t bother arguing since you hadn’t exactly taken a liking to the man.

Your friends were more acquaintances now, and when you saw them, you didn’t know what to say. They’d moved on, had new friends or new boyfriends. They felt you abandoned them (you did, although not intentionally). You never felt more alone in your life, and yet you were never alone; Elvis made sure of that, always having someone stay behind to watch you when he couldn’t.

Eventually it was the summer, your first summer as a married couple in fact, and you were invited to your cousin’s wedding. It was her high school sweetheart; they got the bug from you and wanted to get hitched as soon as they graduated high school. You were hellbent on making it to that wedding, come hell or high water. Elvis, as your husband, was of course also invited and expected as your plus one. They were renting out a small venue in Nashville, and the bride-to-be wanted you as her bridesmaid if not the maid-of-honor (a role you suspected in the back of your mind would have easily been yours pre-Elvis, but post-Elvis you was less reliable, and you couldn’t fault her for making that decision).

Elvis’ first reaction to it surprised you. After all, he’d hardly wanted you to leave his side and had grown increasingly controlling. So when he said, “Sure, hunny,” you almost questioned if you’d imagined it.

You were ecstatic. “Oh, thank you, Elvis. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Each word of gratitude was punctured by a kiss all over his face and any other bare patch of skin you could reach. He laughed that booming laugh of his and pulled you in to give you a proper one. “Well, if that’s the way you were gonna thank me I ‘oughta have more o’ your friends get married!”

This was Fall. Now that it was summertime, and the wedding weekend was upon you, he put his foot down.

“No,” he said simply, not even sparing you a glance as he casually strummed his acoustic guitar, legs spread apart on the couch. Your mouth nearly fell to the floor, and you felt a distinct ringing in your ears, your heartbeat speeding up. Blinking, you saw a few of his Mafia crew milling about, pretending they’d gone deaf and blind as your temper rose.

“What?” You screeched.

You did.

You almost forgot what it sounded like, your defiance. It was spectacular, and you thought you had never felt so angry in your life.

And you had a right to, damn it. You did everything this man said and more. You dyed your hair black, you straightened it to his liking, you always had a fresh paint of nails, you wore the dresses he picked out for you, even the ones with the ruffles that you couldn’t stand, and wanted to make you tear your eyes out of your sockets. You stopped working because he said so (although that was not entirely something worth fighting). But you left school, and you stopped talking to your friends for months until they stopped trying so hard and all you had was him and his damn Mafia. The girlfriends and wives didn’t even hardly talk to you. You were too young and there was very little in common.

You think you spewed all this out to him in your rage, not thinking it even made sense, but you wanted him to feel what he put you through, and being his wasn’t enough if you didn’t have a life outside of his wants and desires.

Finally, chest heaving, out of words to say in your tirade, you saw him through blurry, teary eyes. He’d frozen, shoulders hunched, body tensed for a fight. He looked around the room, but he needn’t — his Mafia was nowhere to be seen now. His eyes cut to you, dark and stormy, as he rose to his full height and strode towards your panting figure.

It was a sight to behold, your husband so angry. He’d been cross with you — lord knew he’d been annoyed on many an occasion — but enraged was new. It felt like the point of no return. Like he’d really hurt you this time, all those words about never laying a hand on a woman falling by the wayside.

“Now, Elvis, hold on now—”

“Long past time for that, baby. You been backsassin’ me and I won’t stand for it.”

Your eyes cut to the side, seeing a crack in the doorway.

“Don’t you even think about it, lil’ girl.” Elvis growled. You yelped as he took you in his arms, forcefully tugging you to the couch where he fell back against it, the momentum leaving you to fall across his lap in a rather unlady-like manner.

“Elvis, please, I’m sorry,” you began, attempting in vain to rise from the precarious position he had you in. His arm only tightened its hold around your waist much like a boa constrictor around its prey. “Should’a thought ‘a that before you went off like that. Now, sit tight and take your punishment.”

He hit you, then. He actually did it. But it wasn’t across your face or strangling your neck like you’d heard some women claiming of their husbands. He’d pulled up your dress so that it hung your belly and pulled down your lace underwear so that you were bare-bottomed and smacked your butt with his open palm, rings and all.

You gasped first, shocked that it had happened, and that it felt like it did; the contrast of his warm skin and the cold metal rings was a contrast you hadn’t known you needed. Then as one became two, and two became three, and four and five, and so on... you’d lost track, a strange feeling built up in your lower abdomen that felt familiar yet also foreign.

Were you... enjoying this absurd, perverted version of punishment? Surely you weren’t getting turned on by your husband beating you like an errant child?

And yet... you couldn’t deny the flare of hot want flowing through you, and you certainly couldn’t deny the wet stickiness that started collecting in your bared cunt. You had to bite your lip from making your desire audible; you were angry, aghast that your husband would go to such lengths for simply voicing your very legitimate frustrations to him.

When a slap fell slightly lower, just catching the bottom of your pussy lips, you couldn’t contain your excitement. A moan slipped past your lips.

Elvis froze, cock hardening in his pants some.

Your eyes widened, cursing yourself internally. The last thing you wanted was for the bastard to know some part of you was enjoying yourself. You wouldn’t look at him, burying your head in the side of his thigh, even as you felt that hot and searing gaze of his on you. You were humiliated, something you hadn’t thought possible after what he’d already done.

“Well, well,” he drawled, voice deeper, thick with lust. “Seems my baby likes this more than she should.”

“Please, Elvis, let me go,” you begged.” You’ve had your fun, being humiliated like this is punishment enough.”

He laughed, barrel chest vibrating against you. “Oh, hunny, I ain’t nearly done with you. In fact,” he circled your ass with his palm, your slick wetting his fingers now. “The fun’s just begun.”

“What—” You interjected, only to cry out loudly (or perhaps moan, it was some contrived version of the two), as he promptly pushed his fingers deep into your crevice, the warm, wet walls hugging his long digits with gusto.

He hissed, “oh, baby girl, that vice of yours just about does my head in. I need to be inside you now.” He started fumbling with his slacks, the belt coming undone in record time as he pulled his rock-hard cock out of his boxers. He gave it a good tug, grimacing at the action. The tip was red and weeping, practically twitching with need.

“C’mere,” he said, positioning you where he wanted you like a doll. “On all fours, that’s right, just like that hunny.” Your knees met the carpeted floor, hair falling around you like a curtain as your head bent. You know he could go deep like this, but usually you had sex facing one another. He could piss you off to no end, but sex was always a sacred thing between you two. This felt cold, unfeeling. Fucking was what it was; he could care less to see you, he only wanted to possess you. You felt cheap, a plaything — and yet your cunt continued to thud with need.

“Jesus, you’re a pretty sight,” he rubbed his cock over your pussy lips, grab at your ass, take another smack of it and delighting in the jiggle of it. “Please, Elvis, just...” You pleaded, and he cut a look at you. “Don’t think you’re much in the position to be makin’ any sorta demands, doll.”

You hung your head, sighing, waiting for him to get his fill. “Oh, hell,” he said, “you’re lucky I can’t hardly wait anymore either.” And with that he pushed into you, causing a surprised yelp to leave your throat. Pulling on your hair, causing your back to arch towards him, he set a punishing, brutal pace, one that hard you seeing stars. In this position, he could hit your g-spot dead on, and hit it he did.

“Oh, godddd,” you groaned, scraping a hand back to hold onto his arm holding onto you. He huffed a laugh that turned strangled toward the end. “Not God, darlin’, but close.”

You would have snorted at the cheesy line if you weren’t full of his cock.

“Nothin’ to say?” He taunted. “That’s a real shame. To think you just needed some good dick to quiet down. Bet you ain’t never had one good as me.”

It wasn’t a statement, he expected an answer, but you were too far gone in the blissed-out feeling to recognize it.

Smacking your sore ass harshly, he repeated his words. “Ain’t you? Say it, or I swear to God I’ll stop right now and won’t let you come.”

“Yes, E, yes! You’re the best I’ve had,” you cried as the building sensation waned. “That ain’t my name, try again.”

“Daddy,” you whispered, feeling some shame about it. You always felt weird about calling him that even though your relationship with you father had never been close, but he demanded you refer to him in that way.

“Daddy what?”

“Daddy you’re the best I’ve ever had,” you admitted. He smiled; really, you would have said anything to have him keep fucking you the way he was.

“That’s right,” he pet your head, slipping his cock back into your tight hole as your eyes rolled back in your head. “You’re my good girl when you’re like this, almost forgotten you was bad earlier. Throwin’ a temper tantrum back there after all I done for you. Ungrateful. And for what? Some weddin’ you felt you needed to go to?” He tutted you, each word punctured by a punishing stab at your cervix; the pain intermingled with pleasure to create a heady concoction leaving you at a loss of words. Intelligible ones, anyhow.

“Ye-ah...” you moaned.

“What was that?” Elvis goaded, pinching your swinging titties between his hands.

“A-agree, I w-was bein’ bad.”

“Right. ‘Cause the only person you should be worryin’ about is me. Your husband.”

“Mhm.”

“Hmm,” he hummed deeply. “Need you just as much, more than ‘em. Can’t have you halfway ‘cross the state if somethin’ came up.”

He soothed your head, running his fingers through your dampening hair. “Need my yittle baby by my side, and she needs her daddy,” he cooed in the baby-talk language he loved so much.

You nodded, more so due to the buildup in your pelvic region. He groaned, feeling the tighening in his balls as your walls started fluttering around him.

“Shit, hunny, you got me ready to burst. You gon’ take it? Take all my lovin’?”

“Yes, Daddy! I’ll take it all.”

“Gonna fill you up,” he mumbled, hips moving erratically now. “Fill you up with my babies ‘till your big and swollen with my seed. Shi-itt—!”

You cried out at the sensation of his warmth shooting into you, triggering your orgasm.

“Agh!” He yelled, falling over you, hips slowly still moving as if to fuck more into you. You collapsed on the floor, and he was right behind you. You two laid on the floor in the fading light that spilled through the French windows.

Turning so that he was looking at you, he pulled your face to his in a deep, slow kiss. “You gonna let Daddy take care of you?”

You hesitated, knowing what he wanted of you. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll make the call tonight.”

He grinned, looking every bit the angel and devil as he hovered over you. “Good girl.”

#elvis fanfic #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis #elvis presley #oneshot #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley oneshot #elvis presley smut #smut #melancholicbutterflies #yandere!elvis #fanfiction #fanfics

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tookthe-405 · 4 months

Text

VBS

Chapter 2 (part 2)

Love me Anyway ~Chappell roan

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rebel!ellie x fem!reader

a/n: i just really wanted to show what happens after the "prank"

summary: you grew up religious without questions adn in summer you would get send to vacation bible school. The camp felt like prison to you, until a very interesting girl appeared.

The night was very stressful, for you and for Ellie. While you couldn't sleep because guilt was eating you up from the inside, Ellie couldn't sleep because because the excitement of seeing the pastor's face kept her brain up. You'd be lying if you said you didn't regret anything, because you do. Just not enough to tell anyone.

If you could have ratted out Ellie, everyone would know that it was done out of manipulation, even if that's really not the case.

Ellie isn't manipulating you, you're just under her spell. And you're pretty sure she doesn't know anything about it, so how manipulative can it be?

This morning you got up earlier than everyone else. you hardly slept at all and only listened your heartbeat getting faster and faster. Around 4 a.m. you dozed off, but it was more of an uncomfortable half-sleep. You looked at yourself in the mirror and thought about the many years before, where you would´ve been scared of Ellie, afraid of being thrown out of camp and losing the respect of the church.

That fear still exists, but you no longer felt it in your blood, because no matter what happened you would find a place, maybe even the one where you belong. It would also be nice if Ellie would be part of this place.

After the sermon in the morning, buses arrived at the youth hostel to take you to the small town that was half an hour away. Hood River was a small town in Oregon and you visit it at least twice a year to talk to people about God. In fact, there are already many believers there, but Pastor Toby is never really satisfied with this small town, as if he has a private dispute with the pretty place.

You were still outside and waiting for the bus with Ellie and the others, when you saw the many group leader loading the candied apples into a separate car. The reality of the prank hit you again.

But Ellie calmed you down and told you and the girls about the many crazy pranks that the middle school students had pulled at her school.

She seemed to be fitting into the group more and more, changing parts and information about herself to fit into the picture and it made you a little sad to know it. Having to watch it.

Ellie is great exactly the way she is, she shouldn't have to change. In no world she should ever feel out of place.

After the trip, the organization started. The town is a bit big, but you already know where Christians live and you only go to the houses where non-religious people opened the door last year, or closed it again very quickly.

"We're taking over the lover lane and we´ll just move forward to the eugene street," announces Louisa, who has completely prepared for today.

She goes ahead with a city map and lots of candied apples in her cloth bag.

"Ellie, I have such a bad feeling about this"

"It's all good, we haven't been anywhere yet."

When you arrived on the quiet street, the mid-20-year-old explained that it would be smarter if everyone answered the doors one at a time, as it would be quicker that way.

"Does everyone know their sayings and verses?" Sometimes, Hazel seems more professional than Louisa herself.

"Yes Hazel, how dare we forget it" ellie sighs

the curly haired girl almost hisses at Ellie.

"We'll meet everyone here again when you're done with your houses."

You all split up into parts and the thought of being separated from Ellie makes you incredibly nervous.

The first house is house number 10.

The house itself looks peaceful. Blue painted, with the American flag proudly hoisted and a car parked in front yard.

You go through all the steps again.

ask if they believe in the lord

if not, try to demonstrate that god can help in every situation

help through bible verses

distribute the message of the church

deliver the (poisoned) apples

Great.

Your fist hits the brown wooden door, not too quietly and not too loud. You could see Ellie grinning in front of you and talking about God whether she really meant it or not.

“Hello?”

you quickly put on a smile.

“Hello, sorry to bother you, I’m part of the community a little further south of here and wanted to ask if you’ve already found your way to jesus?"

You notice that Christians always talk in "Not yet" Terms.

As if we expect every person to find god one day, and the ones that haven´t already are just behind in life.

How annoying it must be to have a stranger to dictate your future.

"ok sweetie i have, but i still worry daily"

That suprises you, normaly the answer is just yes or no. But this lady is ready for a whole conversation on her foot step.

"What kind of worries?"

"i always did what god told me to do and i think i did a good job, but my poor son just doesn´t follow him. I swear i thaught him better! Now he has children who don´t belive and follow jesus path and i dont want them to go to hell!"

The older woman sighs sadly, at the edge of tears.

You´re not really sure what to say to her.

"well i´m positive that god will show himself to every human at some point. Maybe that just hasn´t happened to you family yet?"

The woman turns back slightly and screams a boys name into the house.

"im sorry young lady, but my grandchild is over for the summer and i really want him to hear this"

She squeals in delight, but your blood freezes. It feels as if the child's entire future is in your hands and you briefly thought about handing out the apple now so that she would just throw you out.

"Oh God, this child! Please come in, miss."

That's not on your list of things to do, but something makes your legs wander in anyway.

You can hardly say no now.

"Just sit down, sweetie, I'll get him out of the garden for a moment."

You nod to her and turn your head around the room. Everything looks very… old and religious.

Out of respect, you take off your shoes in the hallway and see that the old woman has slippers just like your grandparents. Large, heavy leather slippers.

The house was definitely old and you wonder if maybe her husband built it. The wallpaper is new, or at least in very good condition, but the old wood on the door frame shows the true age of the house.

You hesitantly sit down on an old chair at the round dining table and peek into the old woman´s kitchen.

Overall, a beautiful house, made for a child's summer, but looks can be deceiving.

You're just staring at the little cross on the wall. For a moment you feel very watched, but you shake the anxious thoughts out of your mind and concentrate again on the here and now.

"Come on! It won't take long, darling."

A young boy sits down on the opposite end of the table, probably not older than 10.

He doesn't feel like being here. Ellie would like him.

You quickly unpack your little Bible and introduce yourself to the boy. He doesn't say anything and just stares at you silently.

His grandma snorts. "unbelieveble, his name is Marcus"

You nod slowly and realize how uncomfortable this situation is.

How are you supposed to convince Marcus, who would rather play outside, to believe in God? The fuck thinks his grandma who you are.

"Well Marcus, your grandma wanted me to tell you about how much God loves you and how much he wants you to be with him at the end of your life-"

"I don't care"

"what"

"I don't want to hear it, grandma!"

His grandmother looks at you forgivingly, but you can also see a desperate pleading.

"Young man-"

"What is that?"

You follow his, finger pointing to the floor where the basket full of garnished apples lies.

"Oh that-"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Now would actually be a good time to die, or at least to be dragged out of this house, by someone who finally realized how cursed this whole mission was from the start

"cool! can i have one"

Marcus suddenly seemed to have found his concentration and respect again. His grandmother also looks at you expectantly.

"Sure."

you slowly take out a wrapped apple, silently hoping that Ellie will breaks into the building and tells you that it's all over. You hand him the apple on a stick and just hope that he isn't hungry yet.

"What the dear lady wants to say is that you should give the lord a chance. He loves you very much and absolutely doesn't want you to end up in eternal fire for-."

You nod very slowly and stare at that damn apple. Poor Marcus. The old woman drives forward.

"What your father taught you is-"

The boy bites into the apple with a grin and it takes exactly 2 seconds until he spits it out again.

You grimace with a sigh.

"Fuck"

"excuse you!"

The Grandma stares at you in disbelief, you worry for a moment whether her old googly eyes might fall out and you imagine how she looks at her grandson like that, every day when he forgets to say amen at the end of a prayer.

Luckily for you, he also starts crying and you probably underestimated his age a bit, or he's just way too dramatic

"what's wrong honey?"

"um i need to go, have a good day"

like a reflex you get up, put your church's contact details on the table and run down the narrow, old but young hallway, put your shoes back on and run out of the house.

Summer air blows through your hair. You seem to have lost all control over your legs because you run and run and run, even when the American flag is nothing more than a small mixture of red, white and blue.

For some reason you suddenly think about a summer with oranges and ellie, another world who is so possible but yet so far away from reality, it almost makes you cry.

The many colors of the houses fly past you and you just grab your bag tighter, so that those shitty apples don't fall out and someone else has to eat them.

You don't even notice where you are until you find the roundabout who lead to the many streets.

"God.." You take a breath over and over again, resting your arms on your knees, but your lungs seem to be allergic to air because it feels like nothing is getting in.

"Hey…"

A hand on your shoulder and you jump back, a small scream leaving your lips, worried that the old lady might have followed you.

Red hair, green eyes and freckles.

Your hand is on your chest and you are breathing deeply and quickly.

Your eyes eat each other up and you are sure that you have never had such an intimate relationship with anyone else in the world.

Thank you so much for being here, for playing a role in my life and for not just being a nameless girl.

She looks at you, the sweat on your forehead and your loose shoes that you probably didn't even tie.

God, does she even know how precious she is to you?

"You scared me"

"I noticed, sorry…"

After a few moments you feel like there was enough eye contact, even though you're pushing for more, so you look away. Pay attention to anything else, the birds in the background, the lake that you can almost see from here or all those American flags.

"Sit down first, you're about to fall over"

Ellie gently grabs your hand. Your hands aren't really linked, she just grabs yours and leads you both to the side of the street, to a small bench.

"It worked, by the way. The apples taste really bad."

Ellie chuckles next to you and lets go of your hand, why does she have to do that?

"I know, a guy almost set his dog on me when he tried one. He was such a disgusting creep, who probably hasn’t showered in days and he was standing in front of me in my bathrobe."

That makes you laugh.

"Those are always the worst. They made little boy cry… he was really mean, but I still feel kinda bad. He didn’t want to listen to anything I said about god”

"Funny guy" Ellie replies and you smile shamelessly at her from the side.

Then she clears her throat and looks forward again.

"I'm sorry if I… dragged you into this. I didn't mean to force you to do anything."

You're now holding her hand, that's resting on her knee.

"You didn't force me to do anything Ellie, you gave me something I always wanted as a child"

"To make a boy cry?"

“Freedom,” you correct her, grinning.

She smiles shyly back and you watch intently as her cheeks become redder and redder. How beautiful this life is!

"Hey guys!"

as quickly as it happened, you take your hand away again and even Ellie slips a little further away from you, still red.

Kate walks down the street towards you with a weak body.

"There's something wrong with these apples"

Thanks for reading and for all the sweet comments and reposts!! Somehow I can’t comment anywhere, not even in my own posts and tumblr won’t help me fix this 😭

by the way, i realised that "tobi" (the pastors name) is fucking german and that in english its toby, so i changed that so sorry guys.

But it means "god is good" which i find pretty fitting

But a biggg thank you to anyone who reads and enjoys my story’s it means a lot to me🫶🫶

Don’t forget to interact with the links!!!!

Taglist: @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @vqxen @hersuniverse @nelzooo @shiimer @bellaramseysgirlfriend @sonthingwithl @vi0lentb3rry @elliewilliamsblunt @be3flow3r @adelaide013 @abbysbraids @liasxeatt @jungkook-37

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lucysgraybird · 2 months

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modern!billy with a farmers daughter!reader but not in the cute silly way?

youve grown up on a farm, ik billy is western but im actually thinking something more midwest; iowa/missouri/kansas

for the express purpose of the vibes of a once-great steel or railroad town, now resigned to notice by road trippers and academics researching the fall of industrial america

with this you've been kind of isolated; you had friends in high school but they've all either run as far as they could from their childhoods after graduation or languished in the remorse of not being able to escape

you. you didn't really want to escape; you're happy with your quiet ghostly life of taking care of your animals and avoiding talking politics with your parents

you grew up religious in a way that taught a god who was fear, you have made peace with a god who is your friend. knelt by your bed he has heard your deepest secrets told as girlish, gossipy whispers; your most outlandish, complicated questions asked like you are up too late at a sleepover

you are quiet for the most part, happy to twist your thoughts around into your head until they either make a pretty shape or break in two, and when you're not working the farm, you're wandering aimlessly through creeks and cemeteries and abandoned buildings

billy is, like everyone not born in a place like this, just stopping through - you meet him through your wanderlust, traipsing down a dead and dying main street as he pulls his equally moribund truck up to the curb, asking you for directions to the nearest mechanic

mechanic is the only one for miles and thus extortionate, but your father is handy and ready to help a stranger, so you tell billy that if his truck can make it a few miles up the road, he'll have a fixed engine for a reasonable price

he, of course, accepts and leans over to push open the door to give you a ride. you get to talking, learn that he was born in new york and has been living in new mexico, he's just travelling for a new job atm. he learns that you have lived here your whole life and have no real desire to move, have never had a reason to have that desire, and he smiles and tells you that he respects comfort in consistency, that he wishes he had a place he felt that settled

when you get back to your house your father helps billy fix his truck and your mother has you take iced tea out to the men, which you also drink a glass of while sitting on the cluttered porch and watching billy bent over the open hood

he's pretty, sure, but you cannot decide whether he is worth loving. if he is as transient as everything else that blows through this town like tumbleweeds, if - and a big if - you fell in love, would it flit away just as quickly as businesses seem to be closing down?

you pray those questions that night, as cricket song and sticky, heavy heat presses through your open window and gets circulated by a white box fan that stays on more for the comforting noise than any kind of cooling

god doesn't respond in words, because that's not how god works, but the next morning when you're in the grocery store squeezing plums to find one that is a little bit further from overripe than the others, billy finds you and tells you that he'll be staying in the motel in town for a few weeks (you make a face, he laughs) because his job has been delayed and maybe if you'd like to go out with him sometime, you could go to the one nice chain restaurant in town and if you decide you trust him (and his truck, which is still...questionably functional, even after repairs) enough, maybe you could drive out a little ways, just towards some of the corn fields? he would show you the stars?

and oh, you realize, this is god's answer and love and guiding hand. maybe it is time to move on.

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wheregoodthingsthrive · 1 year

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Hellsing Headcanon Mass Post

I had been wanting to make one of these for a long while. Compiling a lot of my overly fleshed out ideas for the Hellsing five especially is a fixation for me and a lot of these are 8+ years in the making. This is long and covers Seras, Integra, Pip, and Walter. Alucard isn't in here cause I want the others to get more love lmao. I'll do Iscariot and Alucard eventually. I just want to try this out-- I want to make more Hellsing friends, especially one's willing to build on the lush free real estate we have here :3

Seras Victoria

Born February 9th 1979*

I refuse to believe she was 19 and a cop. *I don’t know how old I want her to be exactly but part of me thinks she’s either Integra’s age (22) or younger by a few months. I refuse.

Her middle name is Marie, which is her mother’s name,

Speaking of her parents -- her parents, Marie and John-Mark Victoria, were an elementary teacher and a cop (duh) respectively.

They were a pretty chill middle class family, known in their community pretty well as they were often involved in a lot.

So the brutal breaking and entering double homicide of the family and the orphaning of Seras was a big deal. It was in the local news. Definitely contributes to Seras having an intense need to NOT stand out.

Her time at the orphanage is a seriously blocked out time period for her and for good reason -- it was a very emotionally and mentally isolating place. And she was disciplined. A lot. As canon explores, she was very violent, aggressive, and apprehensive of relations. She never truly got the therapy she needed and she surely thought the orphanage’s religious predisposition would not help.

Protestant turned skeptical agnostic. She never understands religion all that well after her traumatic childhood.

She went to a private school until her graduation. She had a massive passion in the law and enforcement, leading her to become a cop for emotional reasons she could never really place (traumatic memory blocking lmao)

Despite being picked on and being seen as a little lesser, Seras really did enjoy her job as a cop and hoped to one day become a sergeant or a head of the office. Her fellow coworkers really wanted to see her succeed…

In/Beyond Hellsing

The TV show was onto something with having Seras and Integra have quite the strained relationship. Seras just wanted to be liked and definitely understood that she was seen as an ‘invader’ into this strange little found family.

I don’t have much more on this in terms of Seras’ side because Integra’s side has more potential for nuance. See Integra section. <3

Overall, Seras has a very skittish relationship with everyone. She does get close to Walter though, as he’s the most merciful with her regarding her development as a Hellsing agent and vampire alike. She gets on the tradition of being up early enough to enjoy morning tea with him. (She can’t drink it but it helps her feel normal)

Her vampiric arm CAN formulate into a normal, fleshy arm but she prefers it not to as it reminds her of her strength. She can equally dissipate a lot of her body, mainly her eyes and back alongside her arm, but she can’t go full shadow like Alucard can on a whim.

Vampires of different classes have different arrays of abilities. Seras learns a lot of hers is illusionary and omnipresence. Shadow work, shape shifting, illusions, and expert third-eye vision are her specialties.

Miscellaneous

Her favorite drink was London fog or a classic pint of beer. Her sweet tooth was unbeatable.

She has a nice list of hobbies and interests! She loves dancing, can crochet, learning calligraphy for fun,

Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing

Born June 17th 1977

It’s van Helsing but whatever. Hellsing is the popularized version of the surname but if you ever ask her to sign a document or write her name, she always fills it out as ‘van Helsing’ because it is “correct”.

Childhood and Parents

Integra is conceived out of wedlock between Arthur and Ahalya. They met in 1975 and Integra was born three months after their official wedding. Both of her parents were on the older side.

Her ‘bastard’ status was a big issue in her inheritance and caused, frankly, a lot of tension between Arthur and Richard and more so doubts among the Round Table.

Arthur defended his decision till the day he died. Integra was the best thing that ever happened to him.

I AM TIRED OF SEEING NEGLIGENT FATHER ARTHURS. WAKE UP GUYS.

Arthur was a devoted, very loving, very gracious father. Meeting Ahalya and really taking the Hellsing position seriously since his 30s helped prepare him to be an engaging father and dedicated spouse. While he was busy and often away, any moment he got with Integra was intentional and held his undivided attention.

Integra’s mother was present until she was ten. Her mother was a little less emotional but equally loving. She was very adamant on Integra’s education and development into a young, respectable lady. She was very against Integra becoming the next head of Hellsing but Arthur was insistent.

While not always perfect, Integra and her mother got along. Her mother passed away in the spring of 1987 due to terminal illness.

She was basically raised by Walter whenever neither of her parents were around. They were the best of friends and could read each other like books. Where Arthur taught her the occult and leadership, her mother etiquette and poise, Walter taught her self-reliance and strong headedness.

Their relationship was not always perfect and definitely hit a rocky patch when Alucard returned. She still never understood what their deal was.

Early adult years - Integra is the most socially inept but poised individual. Talking to men? Talking to women? It’s near impossible. She’s a brick wall. She’s real fun at parties when she is either obligated or strongly convinced to go to them.

Definitely earns herself a Elizabeth I reputation. The only time she ever dated was when she was 15 and she had a picnic with a guy her age once. Never again.

Hellsing Era

Integra’s ascent into the head of the organization was agonizingly painful. Walter served as her legal guardian and Alucard was her…strange project.

This is truly when she adopted her more masculine persona and this…closed off nature. It was the only way she saw herself being protected from all the prying, doubting, and slander of the bureaucracies. Was this damaging to her? Absolutely.

Despite this, she grew very close with her father’s trusted friends. Penwood is more at an arm's length while surprisingly, despite his intensity, Irons is her closest among the RTC.

Irons definitely sees Integra as his daughter as well, not even as Arthur’s child.

Her relationship with Alucard at this time is very odd. Mentor/mentee, master/servant, Hellsing/vampire. She didn’t quite know how to appreciate him at this time

A major contributor to their relationship growing was her discovery of Hellsing experiments and frankly more shameful works. While not inherently positive to their dynamic, it definitely changed the way she viewed Alucard forever.

Adding onto the Seras/Integra segment here from Integra’s perspective. Integra can not afford to lose her ‘normal’. She is a creature of habit and stability. She would never admit it but the upheaval of her life via the death of her father, the absenteeism of Walter, the introduction of Alucard, her first kill, etc. ruined her perceived safety and it took her many years to regain it.

She had a new, safe, constant normal with Walter and Alucard. So when Seras is introduced, Integra feels threatened. Her vampire acted irrationally and now she has to pay for it (literally and socially). Seras was an unfactored element to her that invaded her life and threw her into disarray. Obviously, this feeling does not last forever, but she detests Seras at first.

I could also make a point about Integra having no real positive feminine influences in her life after her mother dies. She lives in such a masculine bubble that when Seras is introduced, she frankly does not know how to respond to a positive, feminine presence. That’s a whole other bag of marshmallows for another time.

Post-Hellsing

She dies fifteen years after the time skip finale from natural causes.

Miscellaneous

Operas are her favorite. Her favorite is Tosca. Her favorite activity with Arthur in her youth was to attend the opera and ballets and the likes.

She pulls just as much as Arthur did. :)

She is fluent in Dutch and English, and knows a decent handful of French and German from her governess days.

Pip Bernadotte

Born March 27th 1972. Left handed.

His full name is Pierre Andre. ‘Pip’ stuck in his youth.

I have an unhealthy loyalty to believing he is French-Belgian-Columbian. Why Columbian? Because I said so.

His father served on a mercenary job in Columbia where he met Pip’s mother and he brought her back to Europe with him. Pip was born in Belgium and his parents split up shortly after his birth but they never married. He was left with his dad as his mother returned to the Americas.

He was primarily raised by her grandfather due to his father’s pretty constant absenteeism but whenever his father was around, it was very pleasant and he has a good, positive recollection of his father.

His grandfather though? It was complicated. He was a stern disciplinarian.

His father passed away in Pip’s 20s. They hadn’t seen each other for a few years leading up to his death, not in a negative way…just…kinda went down their own paths.

Pip skipped Belgium and backpacked all around Europe for a long time after his basic level education. He used to have aspirations of being an actor but well we all saw what he actually is so say goodbye to the dream.

He was engaged at least three times. Absolute dumbass heartbreaker.

This is a running joke with the Wild Geese and definitely contributed to his dedication to Seras. She really made him want to settle and stop and be still. Sobs.

Leading up to Hellsing/Hellsing

He was dumb, young, and had both eyes when he joined his first mercenary group. It was not the Wild Geese but there were some guys in there he met who would soon coagulate into the WG.

That being said, he found he could make more money if he ran the show, so entered the formation of the Wild Geese.

When he lost his eye, he temporarily considered getting a fake glass eye but (thank you cocolacola <3) Seras gave him the eyepatch as a “welcome to Hellsing sorry for flicking you” offering.

He’s got some unsorted trauma from losing his eye but he’s an adamant “it’s not that bad I don’t need to talk about it” kind of guy. Toxic masculinity or whatever.

In general. He’s got a lot of unresolved/undiscussed trauma. Will he ever discuss it? No.

Y’know. I feel he and Walter clicked too. They’re both a pair of war dogs who refuse to talk about being said war dogs. Pip is also under the illusion that Walter is pretty normal too until he soon realizes he is NOT. Pip and Walter worked together a lot in creating training drills, tweaking defense systems, and Pip ran the whole “this is our new defense plan” by the latter and both were maybe too excited to bond over insane artillery.

Pip is not allowed in the gunshop though.

When it comes to Integra, this man has mad respect for her and after the first greeting, he would never dare to disrespect her to her face or without good humor.

Alucard is another…can of worms. Pip and Alucard have this odd ‘bro code’ honor between them but not much else. Really Pip only talks to Alucard because Seras serves as some type of liaison.

As Seras’ familiar, I feel he develops ‘powers’- in a non-traditional sense.

Memory barricades, psychic blocks/links, a minor form of omnipresence, and an adaptation of Seras’ skills when he branches out of her arm.

He can materialize fully but not for long and is tethered to Seras via her shadow, so if that is cut, he dissipates.

Miscellaneous

He is a polyglot! French, Dutch, Italian, Spanish, English fluently. Arabic, German, and Greek intermittently.

He's a pescetarian. A failing one.

Pip is a practicing Protestant but you’d never hear him be too open about it and he’s not a calendar Christian either. He’s pretty devoted.

Walter C. Dornez

Born September 30th, 1930. Left handed.

The ‘C’ stands for Christaan: yes that’s how it’s spelled, it’s Dutch.

This is my small blip on anon about his parents

Tldr; Walter is maternally a Seward. His mother is Seward’s daughter and served as a nurse in WWI. She’s also the original holder of the monofilament wires, a vampire hunting weapon devised by the Sewards and their assistance to Hellsing in the early 1890s-1910-20s.

His father is from the Netherlands and served in the war.

He grew up in Rotterdam, Netherlands, until May 1940 when the Nazis invaded the Netherlands.

In their exit from continent Europe, his parents parted ways. Mother took him to England, father stayed behind to aid resistance. He never came back.

His mother left him in the stead of Hellsing as they are technically family friends and also left him with her precious wires.

Started as a hall-boy, moved to a footman in 1941 and then was conscripted into Hellsing full-time forces in 1942, earning the moniker the same year.

A 14 year old being a butler is ridiculous. As a history major, one who has an area of study in grand-house culture (staff and aristocracy) and hierarchy, it would be UNFOUNDED to have someone so young and seemingly inexperienced serving in a role like that.

Now when he’s older? Plausible. Especially given the decline in house staff necessity, especially after the war. So anyways, his official title is butler to the Hellsing family and valet to Sir Hellsing.

Dawn Era and Further

He was the Hellsing infantry’s lil guy. His only friends were grown men who were either scared of him or thought he was puny. He definitely had to work for his respect and favor, with lots of blood, sweat, and tears.

A big credit to his success in the ranks was his aptitude with gunsmithing. Making Hellsing’s literal arms makes you a valuable player.

If he wasn’t using wires, he was using his own handcrafted sniper rifle: Pandora.

This will be indulgent.

Warsaw, Poland 1944. Kid can not remember any of it save for emotions, blurry recollection, and now his neck hurts on occasion.

That Captain fight left him unrecognizable, even to himself, and absolutely shattered the early camaraderie he TRIED to have Alucard.

He struggled to reconcile that Hellsing was any different than Millennium given he felt they were both out for him, just in different ways.

Sometimes it’s best he doesn't remember.

Poland definitely changed him for the worse - intense conditioning to violence made it near impossible for him to adapt back to the real world and being so pivotal in Hellsing forces so early on gave him quite the ego.

He attended Balliol Harvard to study politics and economics. It was a fine time. Definitely awoke something in him. GAY. HE’S GAY. College was in general not too kind to him in the regard that trying to go back to a strange calm after his tumultuous teen years was……..immensely damaging to his psyche.

Alucard. God where do I start. They had a…rivals to friends to no-contact to rivals to coworkers to friends to lovers (?) to amorous thoughts to haters to rivals to classy exes to…vampire fights in leather. It’s complicated.

Integra is his absolute darling. He loves her so much despite being a ‘I hate kids’ individual leading up to that. He loved her as the daughter he never had/never will have and also because it evened Arthur out completely.

Speaking of Arthur. Walter and Arthur have a complicated relationship- not quite father/son, not quite employer/employee, not quite sir/valet. Arthur was almost too casual with Walter early on but later, they developed a strange, taut but friendly mutual respect.

Events of Hellsing

He died in ep5. He looked like a shattered jam jar on the streets of London when the Captain was done with him. I refuse to accept otherwise.

Vampirism obviously saved him- for better or for worse is up to you.

This is another bag of marshmallows but I like to think his vampire form is. Uncanny. He’s got some strange new features that distinctly set him apart from natural vampires, a common trait with Millennium engineered vampires.

Miscellaneous

Woman magnet. This man pulled from his 20s to his 40s. Crazy thing though? This man is not into women. Lmao. He has the ‘single attractive bachelor who is single for a reason’ vibe.

Despite not being a fan of Arthur’s…colorful liveliness…he did some fun, maybe wild things in his youth too. He was no stranger to drinking, going to clubs, dancing, and has perhaps tried a substance or two. Anything to cope.

Not even he knows how the wires work…he only knows they listen to him.

They also function like web shooters or hooks if he controls the tension correctly.

He is decked in scars from monofilament training. Has almost lost fingers MANY TIMES

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #hellsing the dawn #long post #long text #headcanons #seras victoria #integra fairbrook wingates hellsing #integra hellsing #pip bernadotte #walter dornez #walter c dornez #character building and lore building #my own ideas in long form #please interact with this i am begging #go zero notes go!!

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multifandomworldsposts · 1 year

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The Boy From Bomont

pairing: willard hewitt x fem!reader

warning: sexual harassment/assault, fighting

A/N: basically footloose 2011 in a different way.

Y/N’s POV

I don’t what it is about Bomont, it’s odd to me, we’re not allowed to listen to music including dancing. I’ve never been to a place like this or live in a place like this. My aunt, uncle, my cousins and I have to go to church, I’m not really a religious person but I’ll try to respect the church if I can.

I go to Bomont High School which their traditions at this school is nothing what my last school had. No school dances and no music allowed anywhere at this school.

I meet Ariel and Rusty in my ELA 3 class and Ariel reminds me of a girl who I went to school with, really rebellious, not a goody-goody I can tell, and has a boyfriend who looks like a college kid. Rusty is like me, not what Ariel is.

Rusty took me to the drive-in and everyone was really nice and really dirty minded, like my friends back home. I met Willard, he reminds me of a boy from my last high school. Really southern and really kinda has a good heart.

“What do want from the menu?” Woody told me.

I look at him about to speak but his girlfriend interrupted me.

“Leave that girl alone, so there’s a lot of good food on the menu, I suggest the hot dog.” She says.

I chuckle, “I think I’d like the hot dog with nothing on it.” I said to Claude.

Claude gives me the hot dog and says to Woody, “Now, I don’t want a fine, and you don’t want to get another ticket.”

“Wait, you got a ticket for dancing?” I asked Woody.

“He got two tickets for dancing, one more then you’re off the team!” Woody’s girlfriend said.

I get my stuff and go outside to see what’s going on, I hear music from the speakers.

“Holy.” I go to where Rusty and the rest of her friends are at.

Everyone continues to dance and I’m amazed by this, everyone hates the fact that dancing is against the law.

“Y/N, come on let’s dance.” Woody’s girlfriend says to me, leading me to the middle of the huge crowd of people dancing.

I start to dance and I get into it and I hear people cheering, I don’t know why for me or for another person. I continue dancing and noticing no one is dancing, just me. I got kinda nervous but I continue to dance. Ren starts dancing with me, I follow his lead, until I notice Ariel so I stop and faked a reason why I’m going to Rusty and the rest of her friends.

“Attention. Attention. Ariel Moore, will you please come to the front of the diner? Your daddy is here for you.” Claude says in a speaker.

Ariel leaves with her dad. “Daddy’s gon’ take her out to the woodshed.” Willard says.

“What does that mean?” I said looking at him.

“It means she’s in deep shit.”

What is wrong with the county?

I got to know Rusty friends a lot better, especially Willard, he told me about his personal life and what even happens at this county. I can’t stop looking in his eyes but I can’t help it. He seems like a sweet guy to me.

Ren gets in an invite to go to the speedway and Woody, Willard, Rusty, Woody’s girlfriend and I go to support Ren and I notice the gang, they are creepy to me. I get uncomfortable by approaching them and Willard notices me get uncomfortable so he holds my hand. The words I’m even hearing right now get me uncomfortable. I don’t want to be here.

“I love that lil dance you were doing last night. Noticed that you can swing your hips like, what are they called, a stripper.” Chuck says to me.

He’s friends giggle.

“Thank you, didn’t notice a maggot was looking at me being a pervert.” I said back.

He wants to kill by the way he’s looking at me.

“Now, how about you start dancing with this.” Chuck says to Ren getting in a tractor.

I hate this.

The race starts and I get nervous because some of Chuck’s gang get in three buses. I hope Ren survives this. My friends and I get up to where the flags are at.

“Go Ren!” We all say.

Ren is winning but we saw the most terrifying things I’ve ever seen. The buses tipped over and destroyed. Ren tries to stop and Woody and Willard goes out there to save him. Ren jumps out with Willard and Woody.

“Holy shit!” I say. Rusty laughs at my comment.

THE NEXT DAY

I get to the library to study for some things in some of my classes and I notice someone in the corner of my eye and it’s one of the guys from yesterday.

“Can I talk to ya.” He says.

I ignore him.

“Listen, yesterday was cool wasn’t?”

I stay silent.

“You’re actually kinda cute. Wanna somewhere more private?” He says.

“I don’t want to.” I said to him.

“Come on, a girl like you, might get a baby in her belly.” He says with a disgusting smirk on his face.

“I gotta go.” I get my things and try to leave but he stops me and tries to touch me.

“Let go of me you creep!” I struggle and kick his dick.

“Excuse me?” A librarian says.

I look at him and he takes me to the principal’s office.

AT THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE

“Now Ms. Y/L/N, why did you kick Rich?” Principal Roger says to me with the librarian and a cop in the room.

“Rich tried to touch me! And he, he wanted to rape me.” I said.

“Now Y/N, tell us the truth, what did he do to you to make you hit him.” Principal Roger says.

“What I just said.” I say looking in his eyes.

“Well he said that he was trying to help you with your homework.” He says to me.

“He’s lying!” I kinda yells.

“Now Y/N-“

“He told me that a girl like me can get pregnant!” I interrupt him.

“Then why did you kick him?” The librarian says.

I make a big sigh and say, “He sexually harassed me!”

“I know Rich won’t do that.” The cop says.

“Are you kidding me? Does anyone in this town understand about sexual harassment or assault?” I question.

“We do Y/N.” Principal Roger says.

Bullshit.

“Y/N, here’s your ISS slip and have a good day.” He says.

I take the slip out of his hand and look at it and look at him.

“You guys really don’t know what’s going on with women today don’t you?” I says and walk out of the office and went outside to get out of this hell hole.

“Y/N/N!” Ariel says to me but I ignore her.

“Y/N, what’s the matter?” She comes close to me.

I look at her, “Had the worst god damn day of my life.” I say.

“You wanna talk about it?” She says.

“I prefer not to, you won’t believe me.” I walk away.

“What happened?” She yells at my direction.

“You won’t even care!” I yell back.

I get in my car to drive at some abandoned warehouse. I get out of my car and start to get out and then start to think on what just happened at school.

“HE ASSAULTED ME, HE TRIED TO TOUCH ME AND I GET DETENTION!” I yell.

“IM NOT A STRIPPER CHUCK, ASSHOLE!” I yell again.

I start to cry and I sit on the floor and bawled my eyes out. Why do people don’t take women seriously? I curl up in a ball and cry to myself. I hear some footsteps, I look where the noises are at and it’s Willard.

I whimper a bit.

“What’s wrong?” Willard said walking up to me.

“I got in school suspension.” I wipe my tears off my face.

“What happened?” He sits next to me.

“That guy yesterday, Rich, he tried to touch me and he, he told me I would look good pregnant, and when he was trying to touch me, I kicked him in the ball sack.” I look at him.

“And you got suspended?” He questions.

I nod.

“Y/N/N, I’m sorry that happened to you.” Willard says and hugs me, I hug him back, I cry again.

“Those guys are assholes.” Willard whispers in my ear.

I giggle. “They really are. Does this town even care about women’s rights at all?” I stop hugging him and look at him.

“Apparently not.” He says.

I look down at the ground and Willard makes me look at him. I look at him with teary eyes, he kisses me. I kiss him back. He’s the only guy I can trust to be around me including Ren and Woody.

We stop kissing and he gets my hair away from my face.

“I wanna go home.” I said.

“I’ll take you home Y/N/N.” He says.

“Really? I mean I can drive myself.” I said.

“No, I insisted Y/N/N.” He holds his hand out for me so he can help me back up on my feet.

He helps me up and I give him my car keys. I get in the passenger seat and Willard gets in the driver’s seat.

“You ready?” He says looking at me.

“Yeah.” I look at him.

He drives away from the abandoned warehouse, I can’t believe what happened today. He pulls up to my driveway but we stayed in my car for a few minutes.

“I have a question Willard.” I look at him.

“Yes Y/N/N?” He looks at me.

“Why aren’t we allowed to dance or play music whatsoever?” I ask.

“Um, Ariel’s brother, Bobby and some of his friends went partying, they were drinking and driving, and they got in a car accident on a bridge.” Willard told me.

“Is that why Ariel is the way she is now?” I ask.

“Yeah, she used to be a goody two shoes back when we were freshman and sophomore and now she’s a rebellious girl who goes to church.”

“I met that type of person and she’s my friend since elementary school and she reminds me of Ariel.” I said to him.

“And she’s the preacher’s daughter.” He says.

I can’t believe that I just heard that, I never knew about that but I remember seeing her at church but never got to meet her.

“And she hangs out with those creeps and the one who tried touching me?” I said.

“Yep.” He says.

“Willard, do you want me to drive you home?” I said.

“My house is three houses down, you know that Y/N/N.”

I never noticed whatsoever.

“Oh I forgot about that Willard.” I said.

“It’s okay.”

Willard and I get out of my car and I walk up to him, he gives me my car keys.

“Again thank you for driving me home Will.” I said looking up at him.

“You’re wel- Will?” He questions.

“Am I allowed to call you that? You can tell me if you don’t want me to call you that.” I say.

“It’s fine. It’s cute that you just said that Y/N.” He gets closer to me.

“I-I love you.” I said.

“I love you to.” He smirks.

We kiss again. I hear giggling and it’s my cousins watching us. I look at them kinda embarrassed. Willard laughs at them.

“Again thank you for driving me home Will.” I said to him.

“Once again, you’re welcome.” He smiles.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at school?”

“Hopefully all because of your stupid in school suspension dates.” He says.

“Don’t remind me.” I said walking to my car to get my book bag and the slip.

“See you tomorrow Y/N/N.” He says about to walk away.

“Hopefully Will.” I said back.

I show my aunt and uncle the slip and obviously they get angry but I tell them the full story and they agree with me but they want me to do the suspension days. I’ll do it but I don’t deserve to go to detention for what that asshole did to me.

I eventually showed and told Ariel the ISS slip and the whole story on what Rich did to me and Ariel confronted Chuck and Rich about it and Chuck beats her up. She tells her father and he slaps her because she’s not a virgin. When she came to my house, I call Rusty to come over and I patch her up. The three of us stayed up talking about my situation including Ariel’s as well but besides that, we talked for hours until we fell asleep on my bedroom floor.

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Ren is teaching Willard to dance. Woody, Ren, his cousins, my cousins and I help Willard to dance and he kinda got the hang of dancing. He asks me to dance with him and I join him. Ren and Woody notice us kinda flirty.

“You guys! There’s children here.” Ren says.

“Oh we caught them kissing a while back.” Sarah, my cousin, says.

“She just exposed you two.” Ren laughing.

We kinda get embarrassed but sometimes we don’t even care what people think of us.

Ren and I keep on helping Willard to dance, he kinda got confused but then one day he danced like Ren. Ren and Willard practiced a dance a week or so and Will finally did it!

A few weeks later, the county including students from Bomont High School and parents went to the county courthouse to talk about why dancing isn’t a crime. I sit with Willard and my aunt, uncle and my cousins sit next to me. Ren talked on the bench and a few hours later, dancing isn’t against the law anymore! So the whole senior class goes to the abandoned warehouse that I went to, to cry my feeling out but this is about Bomont’s first dance. We get decorations up on anything that involves a wall.

THE NIGHT OF THE DANCE

I get my dressed for the dance I hear a knock on the door and it’s my aunt.

“You look beautiful Y/N/N.” She says tearing up.

“Thank you Y/A/N.” I hug her.

“Someone’s waiting for you.” Y/A/N smiles.

“Willard?” I smile.

“Yeah Y/N. He looks really cute.” She whispers in my ear.

I look down, I think she can tell I’m blushing.

“I’m going downstairs, don’t stay up here too long.” She says walking out of my room.

“I will.” I said.

I fix my hair and walked downstairs and see Willard. Looking like country boy. I can tell he looks so happy.

I approach him and he has a crossage in his hand, I believe that my uncle gave him that.

“You look beautiful.” Willard whispers in my ear.

“Thank you.” I say.

He puts the crossage on my wrist and it matches my dress.

“Now you two, have a fun time and if something happens, call me.” My uncle said.

“We will Y/U/N.” I said.

I hug my aunt and uncle including my cousins and Willard drives us to the warehouse.

When we got out of the car we see Chuck, Rich and this other guy approaching us.

“Look who it is, the school’s slut and the school’s cowboy.” Chuck says.

“Let’s not fight alright, Rich how’s your small dick.” Willard says.

“It’s fine. Listen, you need to pay my medical bill.” Rich says directly at me.

“Let’s go Will.” I whisper to Willard.

We try to walk away but Chuck and Rich grab me and the other guy grabs Willard and I try to fight back but they were too strong.

“Do something Willard!” I scream.

“I can’t fight Y/N!”

“Fight Will!”

Willard starts fighting the other guy and I start to fight back Chuck and Rich. Ariel, Rusty, and Ren comes out to us fighting.

“Get your damn hands off of her!” Ariel screams at Rich and Chuck.

I fight with Ariel and I notice that Willard, Ren and Rusty is fighting the other guy. When everything was over Willard approached me.

“Are you okay?” Willard says touching my cheek.

“I’m okay, are you?” I question.

“I am Y/N/N. Let’s get in that warehouse.” He says grabbing my hand and taking me to the door.

Ariel, Ren, and Rusty join us and told us if we’re okay. When we got in the warehouse, music began to play, we danced like it was the last day on earth dancing.

Bomont isn’t that bad, except me getting suspended. I made good friends with the best humans I’ve ever met and I have a boyfriend who’s the most sweetest boy I’ve ever met as well.

Ariel told me this quote one day, ‘Dance like no one’s watching.’ And that’s what I did, danced like no one’s watching.

#fanfic #fanfiction #miles teller #footloose #footloose 2011 #miles teller x reader #willard hewitt #miles teller imagine #willard hewitt imagine #ren mccormick #kenny wormald #ariel moore #dance #willard hewitt x reader #2011 #1980s #willard hewitt x fem!reader #miles teller fluff #kenny loggins

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smuttyfang · 1 year

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Akira, Curiosity

"The s/o has a very religious family, so after finding out Akira is a devilman the reader gets really scared and cautious but at the same time really curious and wants to know more about his devilman form and how the whole devilman thing works - v - You don't have to though, and thank you! ^^"

Words: 787

The sunset was always so beautiful reflecting off the water. The boardwalk was your favorite place to go after church. You found the water more relaxing than church somehow, and it made you feel conflicted. Wasn't the church supposed to be the most calming thing in your life? As you questioned yourself and your beliefs, you came closer to the boardwalk. As you approached, you noticed someone else sitting by the water. He looked familiar.. Looking on for a minute, you realized it was Akira. You went to school with him. Everyone had noticed the sudden change in his appearance, it was all anyone talked about, especially all the girls. There was a rumor that he had made a 'deal with the devil' of a sort and that was the origin of why he seemed so different. Despite being a little bit afraid, you felt your curiosity getting the better of you. Walking down toward the end of the boardwalk where he was sitting, he heard you from behind him and turned his head around to look at you.

"Oh, hey.." He said, giving you a slight smile. "We go to school together, right? I've seen you around before." He scooted over, patting the wood beside of him. How was he this nice if he had supposedly been making deals with devils? It didn't make any sense to you. You walked close to him, sitting down. You took off your shoes, letting your feet down into the cool water and sighing.

"Nice to actually meet you." You said. "I was.. curious about you." He put his arm on his knee, still looking out toward the water.

"Curious? About what?" He half laughed at you, like he couldn't believe you would be interested in anything about him.

"You." You stated, plainly. "I've heard a lot about you." You let your feet move back and forth in the cool water, enjoying the sensation.

"Like what? That I'm dealing with the devil?" He grinned.

"Well, yeah. That." He seemed far too nice to have anything to do with a devil. Even so, the way he grinned made you feel a little bit anxious. You tried your best to ignore it.

"You just came from the church up there, didn't you? Aren't you afraid of me?" You shrugged your shoulders at him, doing your best to hide it.

"No, not really. You seem nice. I don't see how you could have anything to do with the devil." You played with the hem of your dress with your fingers, looking down at your lap.

"You're brave for a church girl. I do have something to do with the devil. Maybe you should be afraid of me." He let his head fall, and it looked as if he was going to cry. His eyes filled with tears, but they didn't fall. Something was really off about him. You placed your hand gently on his arm, doing your best to comfort him.

"You are a kind person, I can sense it. I know you are. Despite anything else." You said, trying to let him know that he's not alone if he feels that he is fighting a losing battle with some inner demons. He looked at you, giving you a genuine smile through his tear filled eyes.

"You're real nice. Thanks." He wiped the tears from his eyes. "Sorry, we barely know each other. I shouldn't be saying this stuff to you." He stood up, as if he was getting ready to leave.

"I wanna know more about this whole 'devil' thing you believe you have going on." You looked to the sunset, seeing the sky turn a light purple color as the sun was fading below the skyline. "I wanna help, if I can. Religion or not. Something tells me you're deeply troubled." He didn't speak for a minute, and you gave him the time to gather his thoughts and think about what he wanted to say next.

"I am.. but I don't think there's anything you can do to help." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Will talking help at all? I'll be here to listen, if you need it, Akira. Sometimes that's all someone needs." He smiled, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Sure.. I'll come back tomorrow?" He said, you nodding your head in response to let him know that you would come back as well. "Okay.. but you should probably start heading home. It gets dangerous around here at night."

"How do you know that?" You questioned, pulling your feet out of the water and air drying them by swinging them around a little bit. You stood up, putting your shoes back on.

"The devil isn't just in hell, you know."

#devilman crybaby #dmcb #fanfic #scenario #akira fudo x reader #akira fudo #fluff

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danggirlronpa · 3 months

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i love your blog so so much ty for being a f/f safe space in the m/f and m/m dominated dgrp fandom 🫂 pls drop some maki or celes queer hcs i love my little red eyed girls

ofc!! <3 Already did Maki, so here's finally the chance to get into my Very Thorough And Specific Celestia Gender Headcanons, Buckle Up

(Warning for discussion of internalized transphobia throughout!)

This is going to be a curveball even for people who share the trans girl Celestia headspace, but I actually don't think that Celestia realizes she's a girl at any point we witness her in canon.

Celestia. To Me. Is engaging in high school equivalent of drag. Because she's playing out a persona she was in roleplay forums as a middle schooler. If you're a Young Teen, going on the internet, finding a roleplay website, and going buckwild was a lot of people's Baby's First Queer Experience. There were so many websites. They used to have sections of the Quizilla dedicated to it.

And Celestia is...obviously the type of person who lived on those forums. Look At Her. Look At How She Acts. This is a girl who is committed to The Persona. Celestia had a Twilight OC with eight names that she religiously played as daily until everyone collectively decided Twilight wasn't cool and she summarily locked it up forever. She loves a guise.

"Celestia" is an extension of that. Hope's Peak is a brand new place! No one knows her name! No one knows who she is! It's the perfect place to practice her Roleplay Craft. Look at how Feminine TM "she" is! (Wow wearing these dresses is so nice. Celestia loves these dresses. Anyway TM) Look at how prim and proper "she" is! Celestia is a character come to life, V3-style, except her GM is completely aware and in control.

I don't think, in THH proper, she ever gets past this. I think in Celestia's head she's always Faking It. She's always Pretending To Be A Woman, Haha, JK! She's always got the out to recede back into when one day someone learns she Isn't A Real Woman. It was just a play! You all just got played!

There's only one time I think we ever see a hint of Celestia who truly understands and embraces that she's a girl. And that's here.

This is my favorite art of Celestia, because it's the most genuine she's ever been in her entirely life. She's blushing! She's engaging in silly antics instead of just demanding they stop! She's doing silly teenage "I am YANKING YOUR FAKE EYELASHES OFF" threats instead of sexually charged adult "I am STEPPING ON YOU PIG" threats! This is the only glimpse we ever get of a Celestia who lets the mask slip in a real sense, not just because she's angry. This is a Celestia who's willingly let her guard down enough that she can get flustered and mess around.

And I really think that would be the catalyst for her. I think Celestia being forced to acknowledge "Actually I love this life, and I love this long hair, and I love make-up and dresses, and I love being called Celestia and grouped with the girls" is one of the biggest steps towards vulnerability she'll ever make.

In a world where Summer Camp and UTDP really explored their own implications, we could've seen more of this Celeste. But since we didn't, I cling with love to my headcanon that, even though it's not where she changes her name or buys her wig, This is where Celestia starts to heal.

#celestia ludenberg #headcanons #thh #asks #sangomilk #talk to the mod #mod hangout

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goemon-fan · 3 months

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I apologize for my very extended absence, school has been a lot right now and I've been nonstop completing assignments, tests, notes, and assigned readings, which leaves me little time to watch or post anything. My situation should change in about two weeks, and then I can get back to Goemon posting.

But the reason I'm making this post is to thank the Tumblr community so much for being filled with nice people. I sometimes feel logging onto this account comes with the expectation of making a whole post, so I haven't been using Tumblr for leisure and have instead been using other sites. For obvious reasons I've stayed away from Twitter, and the only other social media I really understand is Reddit, and it's been rough. (The next paragraph is really frustrating and bigoted in every way possible, and then some. Also this is a rant/vent.)

I once said something along the lines of "we shouldn't judge people for their weight" and my inbox got flooded with hate from people accusing me of being woke, sensitive, overweight, and the usual insults. I went into a post about one of my interests and got hit with great replacement theory. Moderators, especially on mainstream subreddits, just allow people to say that all Palestinians and Palestinian supporters are terrorists. A guy posted a comic about how he believed his pregnant wife, and pregnant women as a whole, should get more praise and appreciation, and people in the comments assumed he was the wife and said he was having a "pity party." I would get recommended subreddits that were filled with videos and pictures of people actually dying, and one of the mainstream "interesting (rest of subreddit name)" subreddits was overfilled with people just posting torture devices and methods of killing people. People use AITA to create fake stories in which an LGBTQ+ person/fat person/person of color/woman is evil and ugly and treats everyone terribly, and totally-not-bigoted people would flood the comment section with "see, this is why I don't like [group of people]!" In one story a nonbinary 18 year old who was rude and mean to their single mother and didn't believe in any method of birth control because it was feminizing got pregnant with their anti-abortion religious trans girlfriend who gropes people, and Redditors were taking the story with dead seriousness. And, of course, there was a widespread mentality on Reddit that "Idiocracy was a documentary" (I have heard that phrase way too many times in my life at this point) and everyone nowadays is stupid and that Redditors have 150+ IQs and that eugenics is good actually 😊.

This isn't anyone on Tumblr's fault, and I'll likely be using Tumblr more often, but I've been in a negative cycle of overburdened with work - go on Reddit to relax - see something upsetting - get even more stressed out - get back to work - overburdened with work and stressed out, for weeks if not months at this point.

This is very much a rant and I'm sorry for subjecting you all to it, but I would very much like to thank Tumblr users for being normal. You all are a genuine light in my life and I love the community present on here, and I appreciate each and every one of you for your ability to be kind and have fun. Thank you 👍

#please take my warning seriously i talk about some graphic things

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kisskissbanggang · 2 years

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Disavowed - pt. 1

[2k Words/10min. Read - [CENSORED] x Reader (Check Tags for Spoilers) - SFW/✨Mildly Spicy✨/Very Suggestive (Smut to Come) - Church, One Night Stands, Mutual Drinking, Hickeys/Love Bites, New to Town, Hot Mess MC]

Sister Judith was in firm judgment of your turtleneck on this sunny Saturday morning. Thankfully, she was seemingly satisfied once you explained you’d moved from somewhat warmer climates. Not to mention your heater in your rented room wasn’t working. Clearly, this was a reasonable clothing choice and not something you pulled on in the five minutes you were able to get into your closet.

None of this was true, of course, but you couldn't afford to lose this job right after landing it and moving here for it.

It wasn’t like it was her fault you’d gotten carried away, so it wasn't like you needed to burden her with the frightful appearance you had driving like mad back to your apartment that morning before arriving just in time for your first formal meeting.

Yes, instead of telling the truth, you sat in Sister Judith’s office in Pinewood Falls Prep, your back as straight as a board and your sweating hands demurely clasped on your knee.

And for what it was worth, you’d almost questioned the sister yourself. All your correspondence, at least from what you remembered, had been with Jacqueline. You knew the school was in a religious area, but you naively hadn’t realized you’d actually be an office manager for a private Catholic school. Jacqueline had brightly greeted you from the empty reception desk when you’d arrived, with a picture of the Savior himself on the wall behind her. So now it was just you and Sister Judith.

It was like she could see what you were hiding under your turtleneck. Perspiration was starting to gather under the band of your bra.

“I hope you have hobbies,” Sister Judith clucked while she paged through the various paperwork and employment contracts she’d pulled out of a file for you. A permanent frown was etched into the lines of her surprisingly soft face, unhelpful to her eternally judgemental tone. “I can't say there's much of a night life here.”

“No, ma’am,” you hurriedly replied before realizing how confusing you were being. “I, er, I meant to say I do have hobbies. And it’s no problem, there not being any night life. That’s what I meant.”

You’d already figured out where there was night life, hence the turtleneck. If Pinewood Falls was the pretty and devout golden child, then Briar Bay was its hardened, spinster older sister. And if you hadn't been berating yourself the entire drive back to your rented room that morning, then you would've even been ecstatic that it was “just” a 30 minute drive away. Yes, there wasn’t a night life in Pinewood Falls, and you didn't know it yet but you would grow to wish you had gotten some hobbies instead.

Sister Judith slid over your paperwork and a pen, but her hand remained on the writing utensil despite you reaching for it.

“I’m not supposed to turn you away regardless of faith, so I’m not going to,” she gravely began. “However, I will say I do take stock in the spiritual well-being of my staff.”

You swallowed a thick ball of hot air. “I – it’s funny you mention that – because I was, er, actually was actually going to ask what time service begins tomorrow morning, ma’am.”

The tiniest hint of a proud smile pulled at the Sister’s tight line of a mouth. “Promptly at 9:00AM, child. You'll want to get there early for a good seat.”

You were running late.

As it would turn out, politely refusing your landlord’s offer of joining everyone for a homemade dinner in the communal living room in favor of accidentally getting tipsy on wine in your room was not a good recipe for a decent night’s sleep.

You should've accepted the invitation and had a nice time, really get to meet Seungmin and your other housemates, but all you did instead was scour every dating app and social media outlet for whoever your elusive one-night-stand was.

Especially because your search was fruitless.

Especially because it was still bothering you. You’d had rough nights before, ones where you didn’t quite remember all that happened, but you’d never not remembered what someone’s name or what they looked like before. It was unsettling at the very least.

Having come too late to get a good seat, you walked up and down the outer sides of the pews in an excruciating horseshoe maneuver to look for an acceptable substitute until none other than Sister Judith met your eye.

That may have actually been a blessing. Now that she saw you, you could've dipped. However, your hazy tryst in Briar Bay had mentioned one thing you did remember.

“You live in Pinewood Falls? I'm moving there in a couple weeks. Have you seen the church there?”

“Do I look like I go to church?” you’d laughed.

“You should try it,” he had teased back, “maybe we’ll run into each other.”

It was precisely this playful jab that had driven you nuts the previous night. You’d swiped through dating apps, clicked through webs of social media circles, trying like crazy to see if any of these local men jogged your memory. But, alas, there was no luck. Even though you hardly remembered anything after your umpteenth drink, no one sparked any recognition on your behalf. Too old, too young, too tall, too scruffy — you didn’t recall much, but you were positive you’d know him when you saw him. There were little, tiny bits of details you could almost sort of remember. His slight stubble had scraped into your neck before he left you a perfect de facto roadmap of hickeys. You recalled standing just as tall as him standing up on your toes – if not a little taller, judging by the way you could recount how it felt to wrap your arms around him. None of these men at mass seemed to ring any bells. Maybe his ominous little tease had been just that: a tease.

To your benefit, sitting in the back few rows gave you a perfect view of the whole ritual of mass. It'd been years since you'd been to church. Your experience was mostly being dragged when you'd visit your grandmother, so now you watched the congregation in front of you to figure out when to sit, stand, kneel, or bow your head. Overall, it was a fairly harmless service. The old priest was pleasant enough, and his homily lacked any of the fearmongering or outright judgment you’d been dreading. In lieu of the small gaggle of altar servers you were accustomed to seeing, seated to the side of the pulpit were a deacon and an associate priest, two young men assigned to the church. This made sense, you figured. A seminary was just a few hours away, and there was a whole line of framed alumni portraits in the main corridor of Pinewood Falls Prep, all the young men and women who went on to serve Christ. You didn’t pay much attention to the names of either man amidst all the ritual, but to that matter you never even caught the name of the head priest himself.

You honestly felt a bit at peace, at least until the priest began to prepare the body and blood of Christ. Your heart leapt into your throat again. There was no way you’d take communion. You only just started going to church again, it was way too public.

But wouldn’t Sister Judith see if you didn’t take communion? Wouldn’t she care?

The latter question practically answered itself. Of course she would care.

Your mind raced. It wasn’t a big deal to get communion. It’d make a good impression and you could get a better view of the congregation, maybe spy your anonymous rendezvous. The thought of you two locking eyes and recognizing each other gave you butterflies, to be honest. He’d been so hot that it frankly felt unfair to hardly remember anything. You couldn’t even remember how you got back to his place, except your car was right outside in the morning. A small, bashful smile tugged at your lip as you did suddenly recall the way his belt had caught onto the waistband of your jeans. His solution had been to simultaneously unbutton your jeans with one hand and unbuckle his belt with the other, swift as the devil.

Great time to think of the devil, you almost laughed out loud to yourself. Your palms had gone sweaty. Great time to get distracted overall, really. The first row of churchgoers arose from their pews to line up for communion.

Still, once you'd uncorked that bottle it was hard to close. Anything you could remember of the hazy night was playing at full volume in your head. The musk of his cologne mixing with the perspiration brought about by your fooling around, his pleading groan in your ear, the first time he'd nipped at your neck hard enough to leave a mark. You only vaguely remember goading him on to do it again and again.

You were wearing another turtleneck despite doing everything you could to cover the marks. And even if you could confidently hide the ones on your neck, the ones on your cleavage were stubborn.

It was finally time for your row to get up for communion. Your hands were sweating for some reason. The breaths coursing through your lungs were made of razor blades.

This really wasn’t a big deal, you reassured yourself. You’d take communion and everyone would be happy with you starting as the perky new receptionist for Pinewood Falls Prep. Really, this was setting up a good image. You’d treat yourself to an expensive coffee or something after this.

By now, it was almost preferable to cling onto the few memories you had of the other night. You didn’t remember the first time you kissed, but you could recall the way he cursed when you first touched him. The whole night had felt like you were incredibly in sync.

Probably.

Oh jesus.

How were you even supposed to take communion? Your mind scrambled to remember how this was supposed to go, there was a whole back and forth and everything.

Oh god you were so out of your element. This was such a terrible idea. What even compelled you to do this? You could’ve just stayed in your seat. You could’ve just stayed home. Did you even really need this job?

You swallowed a stiff breath and steadied yourself as you did your best to remember. First you were going to bow your head when you got up there, right? And you would raise your cupped hands for the priest, and he’d say something.

What would he say?

“The body of Christ.”

Your gaze snapped up from where it’d been focused on your shoes.

That voice. It was so familiar. Where had you heard it before?

The priest said it again to the next member of the congregation in line. You strained to hear better over the organ playing, maybe crane your head just right so you could see ahead of you.

There was no way this was what you thought it was.

Dread filled you, starting from your feet and snaking its way up your throat. You were drowning in it already, no room to breathe and your heart beating so hard it could crack a rib.

What the hell did the old man say this guy’s name was at the beginning of service?

Up ahead, you’d finally traversed enough of the aisle of the church to begin to make out distinct features of the young priest. A mop of richly dark brown hair, the waves tamed into a respectable undercut, still failed to keep all the fringe out of the father’s eyes. Gentle chin, strong neck on broad shoulders, adorable nose to complement his gorgeous pout–

Father Chris. That’s what the older priest had said.

Chris?

Your mind flashed white.

No.

Fuck.

Yes?

Jesus Christ.

You slept with a priest.

[To be continued.]

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x you #skz x reader #SPOILERS AHEAD #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan breakdown

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