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braveclementine · 5 months

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Chapter 14

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book. It is solely fluff- nothing sexual

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

.💙💙💙.

"𝕳𝖆𝖌𝖗𝖎𝖉." 𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝖒𝖚𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 and he turned to go back. Hermione and I grabbed his arms.

"We can't." Ron said, who's face was now paper white. "He'll be in worse trouble if they know we've been to see him."

"It shouldn't be like that!" I hissed.

"How-could-they?" Hermione choked out. "How could they?"

"Come on." Ron said, finally having a good grip on Scabbers and we began to walk again. I scanned around for Sirius. Darkness was starting to settle over us as we made our way slowly back to the castle.

"Scabbers keep still." Ron hissed. "What's the matter with you, you stupid rat? Stay still- OUCH! He bit me!"

"Ron be quiet" Hermione hissed urgently. "Fudge'll be out here in a minute-"

"He won't-stay-put" Ron said. "What's the matter with him?"

"Crookshanks" I breathed. He was slinking towards us though he couldn't see the cloak. But perhaps he could hear our voices, most definitely Scabbers terrified squeaks. "You know." I hissed at Scabbers. "If you'd just stopped squeaking, he never would've come here, right?"

Scabbers paid me no attention.

"Crookshanks." Hermione moaned. "No, go away. Crookshanks! Go away!"

The cat paid her no attention.

"Scabbers- NO!" Ron suddenly shouted, making me jump. The rat slipped between his fingers and scampered away. Crookshanks raced after him and then- Ron threw off the cloak and raced after Crookshanks. I marked the time sloppily.

"Ron!" Hermione moaned and I darted out from under the cloak, gaining on Ron. "Get away from him- get away-Scabbers come here- Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat-"

I skidded to a stop behind Ron, having passed him as he threw himself downwards into the grass. Harry and Hermione nearly ran into me.

"Ron- come on- back under the cloak- Dumbledore- The Minister- they'll be coming back out in a minute-" Hermione panted between breaths.

Then there was a pounding of large paws. I moved out of the way so that Sirius had a clear line of shot for Ron. I moved forward a little bit. Sirius had used Harry's chest as a springboard and was now grabbing Ron's arm between his teeth. He started dragging Ron- and Scabbers- away from us.

Suddenly, something snapped across my face. I yelped and ducked. I had forgotten about the Whomping Willow. Harry was knocked of his feet and Hermione shrieked with pain.

"Lumos." I said, pulling out my wand. It was a bright white which was good. Ron was fighting furiously. I held my other hand to where the tree had whipped me and found that my cheek was bleeding.

"Ron!" Harry yelled, his wand lit too.

Ron's leg tried to hook itself around the tree, but there was a sound like thunder and Ron's legs went under the tree as well.

"Harry- we've got to go for help-" Hermione gasped. I saw her shoulder was bleeding.

"No." I said.

And that was that.

"Crookshanks." I called out. "Stop the tree."

Crookshanks darted forward and place his paws upon a knot on the trunk. The tree stopped moving immediately.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione whispered uncertainly. "How did he know-"

"He's friends with the dog." Harry said. "I've seen them together. Come on- and keep your wand out-"

I led the way eagerly. I couldn't wait for Harry and the others to realize that Sirius was innocent.

"Where's Ron?" I heard Hermione asked behind me as I followed Crookshanks down the path.

"Follow Liz." Harry said.

"Where does this tunnel come out?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know. . ." Harry said.

"Shrieking Shack." I answered. I was moving faster than the others since I didn't have to stoop over to move. I raised my wand higher as we reached the end of the tunnel which ended with a turn. I turned around the corner and found myself in a large dusty room. Grey paper that might have once been blue was peeling on the walls. All of the furniture that had been in the room was broken. The windows were completely boarded up.

Harry was looking around as he and Hermione rounded the corner. His eyes rested on a chair with three legs. "Ghosts don't do that." He said slowly.

I nodded. "It was never a ghost that was in here." I didn't elaborate. There was a creak from upstairs. Hermione's fingers were gripping Harry's arm very tightly. I started up the crumbling staircase, my wand still raised.

Suddenly, I came to a stop, turning to Harry, and I said, "Harry, when we go in here, I want you to remember that I would never, ever, do anything to hurt you, do you understand?"

I looked back. Harry looked confused. "Yeah?" He said hesitantly. I nodded and then finished going up the stairs. When we reached the dark landing, I said, "Nox" and my wand light went out.

I headed through the open door. Crookshanks was sitting on the bed and Ron was sitting on the floor, clutching his leg and moaning in pain. I glanced behind me briefly and saw Sirius. Harry and Hermione rushed in and came over to Ron.

"Ron- are you okay?" Hermione asked.

"Where's the dog?" Harry asked.

"Not a dog." Ron moaned through his teeth. "Harry, it's a trap-"

Harry shot me a look. I rolled my eyes.

"What-" Hermione asked.

"He's the dog. . . he's an Animagus. . ." Ron stared over Harry's shoulder. Sirius closed the door.

He looked better than I had seen in my vision. He didn't look too much like a dead person- probably because I'd been giving him food.

"Expelliarmus!" He croaked and Harry and Hermione's wands shot out of their hands. Sirius caught them. They both noticed that I still had my wand. I checked my watch, and marked the time.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend." He said. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful. . . it will make everything much easier. . ."

Hate spread over Harry's face. He started forward towards Harry. Ron and Hermione both grabbed Harry's arms. "No, Harry!" Hermione said.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" Ron shouted, trying to stand upright, clutching onto Harry's shoulder.

"Lie down." Sirius said in a soft voice. "You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly.

"Yes." I snapped. "We heard you. Sirius isn't here to kill me or Harry or Hermione or you. He's here for something much different and if you would just listen, this will be done."

"There'll be only one murder here tonight." Sirius said and smiled.

"Why's that?" Harry spat, turning his head from me to Sirius. "Didn't' care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew. . . What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed at him fearfully. "Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and then, he jumped at Sirius, knocking him to the ground. Hermione screamed, Ron started yelling. I went and sat on the couch. It'd be nice to have popcorn and watch the whole drama play out. Funny really, all the Professors listened to everything I said, but the students never did. Even the students that were supposedly my best friends. I supposed one day they'd learn to listen to me.

Sirius put his hand around Harry's throat, trying to push him off. Hermione got up and kicked out at Sirius and Ron threw himself at him as well. I sighed, leaning onto my hand.

Harry threw himself towards his wand and Crookshanks leaped from the bed onto Harry's arms, sinking his claws in.

"Argh!" Harry yelled out. "NO YOU DON'T!" Harry shouted as Crookshanks leaped onto Harry's wand. He aimed a kick at the cat.

"STOP IT! ALL OF YOU!" I shouted angrily. Hermione and Ron backed off. Sirius lay on the ground. Harry, standing over Sirius, his wand pointed at his chest.

"Going to kill me Harry?" Sirius asked, chuckling.

"You killed my parents." Harry said with a shaking voice.

"I don't deny it." Sirius said quietly. "But if you knew the whole story."

"The whole story? You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know." Harry said furiously.

"You've got to listen to me, You'll regret it if you don't. . . You don't understand." Black said, urgently now.

"I understand a lot better than you think." Harry said, his voice shaking more, "You never heard her, did you? My mum. . . try to stop Voldemort killing me. . . and you did that. . . you did that. . ."

Crookshanks lept onto Sirius's chest, and settled himself down on his heart. Sirius blinked and looked down at the cat.

"Get off," He murmured, pushing Crookshanks.

Hermione sobbed. Harry looked down, tightening his grip on his wand. He would kill both of them. I got up and stepped in front of Harry.

"Harry," I said softly. "Please? Just listen."

Harry looked into my eyes, gauging my reaction. I didn't have my wand out, I had it in my pocket. Then, I stepped to the side.

There was a new sound, footsteps downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE! WE'RE UP HERE- SIRIUS BLACK- QUICK!" Hermione screamed.

Sirius made a startled movement and looked at me. "It's just dad." I whispered in undertone. Harry gripped his wand, stilling pointing it at Sirius. I waited, heart pounding and went back to sit on the couch.

The door burst open in a shower of red sparks. Dad came hurtling into the room, face pale, his wand raised, his eyes flickered around the room, resting on me. Then, he cried, "Expelliarmus!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione's wands flew into the air again and he caught them.

Then dad spoke in a very tense voice, "Where is he, Sirius?"

Harry's face turned into one of confusion. At the same time, Sirius and I pointed to Ron.

"But then. . ." Dad was looking hard at Sirius. ". . .why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless-" Dad's eyes widened "-unless he was the one. . . unless you switched. . . without telling me."

Sirius and I simply nodded.

"Professor, what's going on-" Harry asked but didn't finished the question as dad lowered his wand and strode towards black, seized his hand, pulled him up and hugged him. I smiled, relieved.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed furiously.

Dad let go of Sirius and turned to her. She was standing up, having raised herself up from where she had been crouching behind the door, pointing. "You- you-"

"Hermione-" Dad started.

"-you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down-" I snapped.

"I didn't tell anyone! I've been covering up for you-" She was shrieking.

Dad yelled over her, "Hermione, listen to me, please I can explain-"

Harry shouted too, "I trusted you! And all this time you've been his friend!"

"No he hasn't!" I snapped.

"You're wrong." Dad said. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now- Let me explain. . ."

"NO! Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too- he's a werewolf!"

There was silence and I was in shock. Dad wanted Harry dead because he was a werewolf? No, that was over the line. I got up fast to throw myself at Hermione and Dad grabbed me around the waist. "No." He growled in my ear.

I stared at her angrily, furiously.

Then dad said, "Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione. Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not bee helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead. . ." He shivered. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Dad let go of me. Ron made an effort to get up again but he fell back with a whimper of pain. Dad went to go help him but Ron gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"

"You!" I said furiously. Dad had stopped walking and I lunged at Ron too. Dad grabbed me again. "You aren't going to attack your friends." Dad said. "Not over something like this."

"I have no friends!" I yelled suddenly. Dad let go of me in shock and the other three looked at me, also shocked, and Hermione's face was a bit hurt. Sober and pent out of energy, I went and sulked on the couch.

Then to Hermione he said, "How long have you known?"

"Ages. . ." Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay. . ."

"And you never thought to tell me?" I snapped. Blood was still running down my face from where the Whomping Willow had hit me.

"You didn't tell us!" Hermione said angrily.

"Oh gee, I wonder why?" I asked sarcastically. "Look how people react! My dad is a perfectly good person and if you three would shut up and listen, you would understand what is going on but you keep shouting out fake accusations from stuff you've overheard and you DON'T BLOODY UNDERSTAND!"

My chest heaved with emotion. I was angry with them, the way they reacted. Hermione looked a bit ashamed. Good.

"I have not been helping Sirius." Dad said quickly, looking from me to them. Perhaps he thought that if he didn't talk immediately I'd attack them. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look-" He threw their wands back to them and I quickly drew mine out. "There," Lupin said, sticking his own wand into his belt. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen? Elizabeth put your wand away."

I clenched my teeth and went and sat back down on the couch angrily, putting my wand between my knees.

"If you haven't been helping him. . ." Harry said slowly, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map." Dad said. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it-"

"You know how to work it?" Harry asked, sounding more surprised and less angry.

"Of course I know how to work it, I helped write it. I'm Moony- that was my friends' nickname for me at school."

"You wrote-" Harry started.

Dad interrupted. "The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, Hermione, and Elizabeth were going to try and sneak out of the castle and visit Hagrid before his Hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?" He started to pace up and down. "You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry-"

"How d'you know about the cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it. . ." Lupin said, drifting off and exchanged a look with me. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were no accompanied by somebody else."

"What? No, we weren't." Harry protested.

"I couldn't believe my eyes. I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" Harry said.

"And then," Dad continued, ignoring Harry. "I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black. . . I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow-"

"One of us!" Ron interjected.

"No, Ron. Two of you." Dad stopped pacing, looking at Ron. "Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he asked.

"What? What's Scabbers got to do with it?" Ron asked, confused now instead of angry though he gave me a wary look.

"Everything. Could I see him, please?"

Ron put his hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing to get away. However, Crookshanks didn't move, though he made a soft hissing noise. Ron was holding Scabbers by his tail.

"What?" Ron asked, as Lupin, Sirius, and I all looked at the rat. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat." Sirius said.

"What d'you mean- of course he's a rat-" Ron said, looking at Sirius as though he were stupid.

"No, he's not." I said. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus, by the name of Peter Pettigrew." Sirius said.

There were a few seconds of silence and then Ron said, "You're both mental." Ron said, then he looked at me. "You- you think they're telling the truth?"

I shook my head no and both dad and Sirius gaped at me. "I don't believe it. I know it." I said, looking at him with steady eyes. I couldn't blame him and Hermione anymore. The Wizarding prejudices were what caused this reaction.

Sirius lunged suddenly, at Scabbers. I leapt up and Dad and I grabbed his arms and we drew him away. "No, Sirius." I said. "Not yet. They have to know the whole story. I could explain everything, but it has to come from your mouth."

"Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts I don't understand. And Harry- you owe Harry the truth." Dad said.

"All right then" Sirius said. "Tell them what you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for."

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die." Harry said, his anger back. "A whole street full of them."

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" Sirius said angrily, watching the rat in Ron's hands.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter." Dad said thoughtfully. I cleared my throat meaningfully. "Well," dad said, "Elizabeth never did, from the age of seven she declared he was innocent- that she had a feeling. I thought maybe it was because. . . well anyways. I believed Sirius was guilty- until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's map never lies. . . Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."

Harry looked at Ron and their eyes met.

Then, Hermione spoke in a trembling voice, "But Professor Lupin, Scabbers can't be Pettigrew. . . it just can't be true, you know it can't."

"Why can't it be true?" Dad asked calmly as though we were in a classroom. I nearly laughed aloud except I was furious with the lot of them.

"Because. . . because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework- the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list-"

"There are also seven unregistered Animagi." I said calmly. "Peter the rat, Sirius the dog, James the deer and the others I don't know yet."

"James?" Harry asked. "Like-"

"Your dad?" I said with difficulty. "yes."

"He was a deer?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"A stag, to be more exact." I said.

"You're both right, Hermione and Elizabeth." Dad said. "Sirius, Peter, and James were all unregistered so they wouldn't be on the list."

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on Remus. I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer." Sirius said.

"All right. . . but you'll need to help me, Sirius." Dad said, rubbing his chin. "I only know how it began. . ."

Dad broke off, there was a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord and dad looked out. "No one there. . ."

I grinned and then quickly sucked in my cheeks. I winced. Both emotions had hurt my cheek. I wiped under the cut, removing blood. I looked at where Snape was standing under the cloak and then away quickly.

"This place is haunted." Ron exclaimed.

"It's not." Dad said, still looking at the door. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted. . . The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me." He pushed his red hair out of his eyes and said, "That's where all of this starts- with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten. . . and if I hadn't been so foolhardy. . ."

He looked so tired and upset my heart ached. Ron opened his mouth but Hermione said, "Shh."

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform. . . I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again. Before the Wolfsbane potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month."

I tutted in annoyance. Dad smiled back at me. "Elizabeth's always been a bit biased towards the negative views towards me. Anyways, it seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me. But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school. . ." Dad looked at Harry now, "I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house, the tunnel that leads to it, they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

Everyone was listening with rapt attention. The only other sounds were Scabbers, who was still squirming on the bed. I looked at the rat distastefully.

"My transformations in those days were- were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violet spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor. . . Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't approach it. . . But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends that Elizabeth has already named, Peter, Sirius, and James."

Dad paused for a split second and then said, "Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her. . . I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you Hermione, worked out the truth. . ."

Ron was starting to look a bit ashamed and gave me a guilty look. I shrugged my shoulders.

"And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi. It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong- one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will."

"But how did that help you?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals. A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James' invisibility Cloak. They transformed. . . Peter, as the smallest could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus." Sirius said.

"I'm getting there, Sirius. Well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did. . . and that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot, Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."

"That was still really dangerous!" Hermione exclaimed. "Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip and bitten somebody?"

"A thought that still haunts me. And there were near misses too, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless- carried away with our own cleverness. I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course. . . he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventure. And I haven't changed. . ."

I looked at him sharply. His face had hardened with self-disgust and hate. "All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me. . . and Dumbledore's trust meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am, having to resort to Muggle jobs to keep my daughter fed. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it. . . so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"No he hasn't." I said sharply. I felt terrible about everything he was saying.

"Snape?" Sirius asked harshly, finally taking his eyes off of Peter. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius." Dad said. "He's teaching here as well."

Sirius made a sound of disgust. I giggled. "He's a good teacher." I said earnestly. "But he hasn't been right about dad at all."

"Sure." Sirius said with contempt.

"Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons. . . you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me-"

Sirius snorted. "It served him right. Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to. . . hoping he could get us expelled. . ."

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Dad said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, ignoring Sirius. "We were in the same year, you know and we- er- didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field. . . anyway Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be- er- amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf- but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life. . . Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was. . ."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you." Harry said. "Because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right." Professor Snape said, pulling the cloak off of himself, his wand pointed at dad.

⬅️➡️

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nighmares-art-and-stories · 2 years

Text

Start to a Journey

In another world, our souls are more physical and take the form of animals called Daemons. They are our companions in our darkest moments, our doubts, our hopes, our dreams that makes us, us.

Sydney was exactly three when she felt something sharp etch a shape on her shoulder. It felt like a burning blade cutting a flowing arch from the small of her back to her biceps. She looked over to Aneira who’s taking the shape of a small awkward-legged dog. His deep brown eyes glittered with intelligence. She shifted, taking the form of a large wolf pup. Sydney weaved her hands into his silky fur, getting lost in the calm, soft warmth. She flashed her teeth in a gentle, knowing grin that turned sharp in the last minute, the look only offset by a ring of puppy fuzz around the nape of his neck.

‘It’s here.’

Aneira’s thought echoed in her mind a simple fact that echoed with all the possibilities. Sydney jumped, letting out a happy little squeak before scurrying to the bathroom, bowling over a hand carven chair in her haste. Her dae scrambling after her with his tongue lolling out, with an excited smile on her lips.

She was just a few from the bathroom door when Demarcus blocked the way with her slender body. “Ah, be careful, you don’t want to fall.” She nosed at her a few times to get Sydney to slow down and step back a little.

Her father stepped up behind her, effectively trapping her between them. He knelt extending a hand, jabbing a finding into her side, tickling her. The snowshoe hare pawprint on the back of his hand danced with his movements. After about 15 minutes of tussling with each other that led Aneira nipping around at Demarcus’s heels did her father stop. Her father then cupped her chin with a finger, tilting it so that Sydney could see him eye to eye. “Ok, now tell me. What got you so excited?”

Sydney simply smiles before running a finger down the snowshoe hare print on his hand. Realization flickered in his eyes like the small sparks coming off flint. His grip loosened enough for her to wiggle away and slip through Demarcus’s slender stick-like legs. Aneira darted forward and gave one last playful nip at her father’s ankles before smiling and slobbering all over his face, running towards the bathroom door at the last minute.

It worked.

She hit the bathroom door with her shoulder making it bounce back on the hinges. She winced a little at the impact, knowing that the force of hitting the door would make her shoulder sore for a few days. Aneira followed her the best he could, moving so fast that he’s almost rolling on the floor, leaving behind bits of shed fur and slobber.

He pulled at the bond like a marionette string. A small flash of fear flowed through Sydney’s veins like the sudden chill of running through cold water. Slow down, you’re going to bring us out of range. Aneira’s thoughts flooded hers for a moment making her head ring. Sydney closed the door as soon as Aneira tumbled into the bathroom. He shifted into a jet-black bird in a rapid, almost disdainful flick of his tail before fluttering to the chain, manipulating the little ball with his talons with the dexterity of a human hand.

Sydney smiled, “Alright, do you want to see it?”

Aneira simply rolled his eyes the best he could in the bird morph, before landing settling on the bathroom counter. A talon slipped, so she flapped but that just threw her off balance, making her chest-plant in a small puddle of water.

“That makes it sound like you seen it already.” However, her eyes glittered in the dim light betraying his excitement. She leaned forward, beak and wings quivering and pecked at her shirt, eager to see the mark.

She simply gave a little chuckle, ‘Don’t pretend you’re not excited as well’, and shucked off her shirt with one fluid fast movement. The movement was so forceful it flew across the room like a lopsided squirrel and landed on one of the rungs in the shower curtain. Sydney strode over and gave it an experimental tug, but it remained stuck. She shrugged before going to the mirror on the other side of the room and turned around.

There on her shoulders are a pair of black wings dotted with grey and silver, one extended curled around her shoulder like a shawl and the other folded over like origami. The marks glittered, the silver highlights danced with small flecks of gold, like its veins are made of glitter or of Dust. The iridescent feathers shifting colors from midnight blue to a jewel green like it would on a real animal.

“Woah.”

Aneira shifted to a small hummingbird and hovered above head, shifting between forms, trying to match his wings to the image, beak agape with wonder at the mark. She landed on her shoulder, as gentle as a leaf, little claws digging into her flesh. Sydney winced.

‘Ah, sorry.’ The little talons shifted so that they aren’t buried in her flesh. Aneira brushed the mark with her wing tips, and a wave of warmth flooded though Sydney, like the feeling of sun on her back.

Sydney smiled, ‘This is amazing.’

Taglist:

@alaralee

#writeblr #ao3 writer #creative content #original work #daemonism #daemon au #original female character #fanfic #original story

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andarthas-web · 2 years

Text

Baba Jaga’s Bitch - chapter 2

Part I here

It's been two hours, twenty-four minutes and about thirty seven seconds and if he thought he could get away with it, Iosef would kick Kirill in the nuts and then bolt for the door, but it wouldn't be the first time the head of his father's security team would simply block one of his moves, shove him down onto the floor and twist his arm behind his back until it felt like it would break, so he sticks to be as annoying as possible, tapping his foot, humming under his breath, telling off-colour jokes while waggling his eyebrows at Kirill and asking like every five minutes if his father's gotten back yet. The tic that's sprung up at Kirill's jaw in the last fifteen minutes or so is totally worth the work.

It's not enough to drown out the queasy maelstrom that has sprung up in the pit of his stomach though. It's been years since his father made him wait in his office like this, for getting into trouble at school, but he's still got a small scar on his right side, just below his ribs, where his father finished off by using the side with the belt-buckle. His head is buzzing, jumping between wanting to call Victor and badger him into finding out what's up, but fuckin' Kirill took his phone, and his hands are shaking and he really needs a smoke, or one of the girls from the club, to take the edge of things, but no, it's just bloody stupid Kirill and two of his stooges, standing in front of the doors like prison guards. He's not even allowed to pour himself a drink from the bar at the side, because your taste is unrefined like that of a peasant. A Stolichnaya Elit would be wasted on you.

He ends up getting up and pacing the room, letting his fingers run over all the precious baubles Viggo had collected, thinking about how cats push over crap like this all the time and about how he didn't have nine lives, when he can hear rushed, heavy steps outside and his father bitchin' at his people to get everything ready, whatever everything was this time.

The slight delay gives him just enough time to straighten his back, straighten his suit and run his hands through his hair, which never lies as flat and proper as his father would like it. Damn witches’ hair, as unruly as your mother.

The door opens with a bang and Iosef tries hard to hide his flinch, but his father isn't even really paying attention as he barges in, Avi just one step behind, as usual. He walks right by Iosef, heading straight for the bar to pour himself a drink and downs it in a single gulp, before eying Iosef from head to toe with the calculating stare of a farmer picking out a calf for the slaughter. He finally walks over, slowly, drink in hand, and gets right up into Iosef's space and keeps going, and Iosef steps back once, twice, almost stumbling, his eyes darting over Viggo's shoulder and Avi's still there, that's good, because Avi can't stomach violence and as long as he's still there….

"My son….my only son…."

His father's hands find the lapels of his jacket, he runs his fingers under them, the gesture almost gentle, before grabbing them with an iron fist and pulling Iosef forward, just as Viggo's knee comes up hard, smashing right into the pit of Iosef's stomach, instantly making him retch, tasting bile as his world flickers at the edges and his father drops him to the ground, follows up with a kick to his ribs that steals the scream crawling up from his chest and leaves him with something dull-red and broken that dims the whole world around him.

Faintly, he can hear Avi and his dad argue, Avi wants to leave, his father orders, no shouts at him to stay, and as his father turns back to him, he finds just enough breath again to choke out a "What did I do?".

"Ty vse isportil – you fucked up."

"We did what you asked! No one saw shit!"

Viggo bends down, pulls him to his feet, only to shake him like a dog until his teeth rattle.

"I'm not talking about Atlantic City, mal'chick."

He lets go and Iosef catches himself on the bars' counter, holds himself steady enough to look up to his father.

"What then?" It comes out angry, and angry is good, but it tilts and trembles with an edge of panic he can't push down. "You mean Aurelio's? So I stole a fucking car!"

The gut-punch that gets him is swift like lightning and leaves him wheezing on the ground again, his ears full of white noise and confusion as he can feel Avi shuffling around uncomfortably in the background.

It takes a breath or three for him to get back on his knees, arms wrapped around his middle, and stare up at his father, eyes burning. There's words he wants to say, like Fuck you and What the hell is WRONG with you, YOU keep going on and on about how you earned your first star stealing cars, but Viggo's not looking at him, instead brushing of some imaginary speck of dust from his suit and then pouring himself another shot of vodka.

"It's not what you did, son, that angers me so. It's who you did it to."

"Who? That fucking nobody?" Iosef almost feels like laughing, this must be a goddamn joke.

But his father's not laughing.

"That "fuckin' nobody"... is John Wick. He once was an associate of ours. They call him Baba Yaga."

Iosef's heard the name, spoken in hushed tones, like a silly urban legend around a campfire and he scoffs, pushes himself to stand once more.

"The Boogeyman?"

His father downs the second glass of vodka, grimaces like the hellishly expensive brand had changed into horsepiss and turns to his son.

"Well….John wasn't exactly the Boogeyman. He was the one YOU SENT TO KILL the fucking Boogeyman."

"Oh." He's not sure what else to say, messing with an enforcer of that caliber is bad news, but his father isn't done yet, steps up to him and looks him straight in the eye until Iosef has to suppress the urge to shudder.

"John is a man of focus, commitment, sheer will... something you know very little about. I once saw him kill three men in a bar... with a pencil, with a fucking pencil."

Viggo turns away again, puts some distance between them as he pours himself a third drink, this time taking no more than a sip as he parses his words carefully. "Then suddenly one day he asked to leave. It's over a woman, of course. So I made a deal with him. I gave him an impossible task. A job no one could have pulled off. The bodies he buried that day laid the foundation of what we are now. And then my son, a few days after his wife died, you steal his car and kill his fucking dog."

The last words roll out in a barely suppressed snarl, hard enough that they feel like being pushed away, pushed into a corner, but Iosef can't let that happen, this wasn't supposed to happen anymore and he steps closer, bridging the gap, mouth set in a hard line.

"Father, I can make this right."

It doesn't get him more than a derisive guffaw. "Oh? How do you plan that?"

"By finishing what I started."

Viggos snarls, points his finger at Iosef as he looks back at Avi. "What the... did he hear a fuckin' word I said?"

But this time, Iosef's voice is as firm as he hoped it would be as he tells his father to please trust him, that he's ready to do this, " Papa, ya mogu eto sdelat'! Pozhaluysta!", and he thinks he's gotten through when Viggo pulls him close, hugs him tight like he's never done before, but then Viggo starts whispering in his ear, the suppressed anger bubbling right there under the surface.

"Iosef, Iosef! Listen! Huh? John would come for you, and you could do nothing, nothing, because he's the best there is. And I could send all my men to protect you, spend our whole fortune so that you might live and he would still get you and it would be all for nothing. So what I did was strike a bargain, so that you might at least survive."

And he shoves Iosef back, right into Kirill's harsh grip, who has come up behind him.

"Take him. Give him some GHB to keep him quiet and then strip him and put him in the cage outside for transport. I don't want Wick to get jumpy when I hand over the merchandise."

#Iosef Tarasov / John Wick #Iosev Tarasov #Viggo Tarasov #John Wick #whumptober2022 #whump #Baba Jaga's Bitch

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mochithealchemist · 5 months

Text

Chapter six about that silly dog

Oats swiveled his head to see a beautiful husky. Her fur was spritzed with a layer of dirt and her face held an obstinate shit-eating grin. She stood confidently blocking the duo’s way out of the alley. To her side a small pomeranian yapped with excitement. They both looked to be the same age as Oats and Cran and carried themselves like delinquents.

“Oh come on. Do you really think we haven't noticed how much money you have whiskers”

The husky jeered at Cran, who scowled in response.

“You think I can’t smell the dye they use in those-.”

Cran interrupted her with a violent hiss. The pomeranian stopped its constant growls and yips.

“I’ll claw your eyes out and sew them back on your butt where they belong.”

Cran’s fur started to rise, making the kitten twice her original size. Oats was completely flabbergasted by his friend's display of barbarity. His eyes darted from cran to their assailants like a nervous pendulum. Cran was inching forward claws out.

Without thinking Oats hoisted Cran by the skin of her neck and bolted away from the strangers. His paws slammed against the crumbled concrete of the alleyway running like he had never before. Cran seemed at a loss for action or words and simply hung limp in Oat’s jaw. The husky and her friend did not seem alright with Oat’s escape. He could hear their animalistic yipping as if they were some type of wild animal.

“Hey, I had em doofus!”

Cran shouted as Oats leaped over a pile of detritus.

“MHMN!”

Oats tried to answer without realizing that his mouth was occupied. He hadn't run anywhere near this fast in a while. He hoped he could keep up the chase until they could find some help. Wait, was he lost? Oats looked around searching for a recognizable landmark in the barren street but his memory came up empty.

“Turn left TURN LEFT!”

Cran screamed as Oats almost missed his turn. He swerved into a more populated road greeting everyone there with his conflict.

“Keep running ivory picker!”

The Husky shouted. The expletive “ivory picker” was nowhere in Oat’s vocabulary but he guessed it wasn't a nice thing to say. As oats galloped feverishly into newer and more familiar parts of the city he could hear his assailants were falling behind. They were escaping not because they asked for help but because Oats had put in the effort and ran. He felt very happy about this fact. With one last turn, Oats lost the husky and her minion. He dropped Cran and panted heavily.

“What was that?! I had those geeks!”

Cran angrily spat at Oats.

“Cran, you’re the size of a can of beans. Also, what would have happened if you did beat them? Hmmm. Oh, I'm sorry officer, they wanted my money so I clawed their eyes out and attached them to their butts.”

Oats was too tired to be worried about Crann’s disapproval. He hated to be mean but It was clear she needed a reality check.

“Fuck the cops. What are the Pinkertons gonna do, huh? I’d leap on the first one's face and take all his teeth. Then I’d throw them like ninja stars at the other one and they’d explode!”

Cran jumped around playing out her power fantasy for Oats who was starting to realize just how much energy his new friend had. He would have criticized her use of expletives but was way too pooped to care. With nothing else to do, he started laughing. It had been such a strange day. Before this, when he lived in the small farming village with his father, he would have never had a day this eventful. Oats was consumed with joy. He felt open and in the moment. He felt like nothing stressful had happened. Any responsibility he had was cut from his memory. His momentary joy was even enough for him to almost forget about his kitchen window. As the thought crossed his mind Oats snapped back into focus. The amount of fun he had today didn't change the fact that he was in for a world of trouble when he got home. His expression soured. Cran, who had stopped her violent bouncing around noticed Oat's demeanor.

“Hey, everything's gonna be cool ok.”

Cran said comfortably. Oats appreciated Cran’s care but it didn't do anything to change his mood. He stood up straight to his full height startling Cran. Typically Oats was in a constant state of awkward anxiety which caused him to shrink into himself. In reality, he was very tall for his age. With a deep breath, Oats made a silent promise to himself.

“Everything will be fine when I get home.”

The affirmation was not true at all but Oats was a good liar.

“Cran.”

Oats turned to Cran in a professional sort of way.

“Thank you so much for showing me around Houndsburg.”

“You're welcome, dude.”

Cran met Oat’s stark professionalism with a casual attitude that deflated his ego. Even so, he was thankful for meeting Cran. He hoped that they could hang out tomorrow if he wasn't grounded.

“Well, I should be going. My dad will most likely think someone robbed the house. I should probably explain what happened to the window.”

“Good luck with that man. Hey, do you wanna hang out tomorrow? I can show you my trebuchet!”

“That sounds fun. I'll ask my dad if I can come but I'm not sure he'll let me after today.”

Cran looked ashamed.

“I can help you break it to him if you want. I mean I broke the window.”

“I doubt that would work but if your there he’ll be less mad. Are you sure you don't mind?”

“Pphht what are friends for doofus”

The duo decided who would say what to make Barley less mad and shifted through the streets of Houndsburg to the Cane household.

#oc #oc writing #dog #victorian #victorian era

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thesolferino · 4 years

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Touchdown

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: smut, minors please keep scrolling!

⤷ word count: 3.2k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon

— summary: clay loses a football game, and while he’s already mad, you decide to rile him up even more.

“God fucking damnit.”

Clay muttered, pulling his helmet off and slamming it against one of the benches as he said the last word, making you almost jump as you quietly trailed along behind him, feet following in his footsteps. He ran a sweaty hand through his hair, wiping beads of sweat off the sides of his face as he moved towards his locker, carelessly hanging the helmet in its place as he huffed a frustrated sigh.

The locker room was empty, no traces of anyone’s belongings left, as Clay took his sweet time yelling and arguing with the coach after he instructed the rest of the team to change and get out of his sight; everyone had left before he even reached the lockers. The game hadn’t ended well for his team - the game tied, and he was feeling confident, patting their center, Nick, on the back in encouragement, shooting a pearly smile to those who cheered them on and filled the bleachers. They played overtime, and a coin was tossed, during which his team ultimately lost. Looking back on it in the pessimistic state that he was in now, throwing the towel he used to wipe his face at the wall, that should’ve been the first sign it wouldn’t end well.

The other team scored one final touchdown in the last three minutes of the game, the crowd’s cheers and protests mixing as the opposing team’s points shot up by six, leaving them victorious by one single point and Clay upset, pent up rage and bitterness stuck inside his body with nowhere to go now that the game was over and balls couldn’t be thrown. He stayed arguing with the coach for longer than he should have, even though he simply refused to budge. You’d managed to come down from the bleachers just in time to see him hold back a curse and speedwalk towards the lockers, following close behind, not even daring to call out his name.

“Damnit!” he shouted again, sitting down on the bench, running both of his hands through his hair fervently, huffing out large exhales every time they moved back and forth. The rest of his gear was still on despite coming here specifically to change - his jersey was still draped over his large shoulder pads and chest, one glove on and the other chucked at the wall as well as the towel, shorts and knee pads in place, too. You carefully reached out to place a warm hand on his shoulder, at least giving him some type of assurance, hoping it would calm the fire that burnt in him, mighty and frantic, at least a little.

It seems to do nothing, though, and the fire in him just keeps growing taller and stronger, flames licking farther up his throat, seconds away from escaping, burning him to ashes.

They do exactly that - they engulf his entire body, and for the split second that his gaze catches yours, you can see his eyes glint with flames, before he stands up so quickly it makes you dizzy, and presses his lips to yours hungrily. His fire engulfed you, spreading through you like an infectious disease, warmness swarming you from head to toe as he pulled you closer to him by the waist, leaving fiery fingerprints everywhere his hands touched you like hot coal.

He grunted into your kiss as he walked forward, backing you into the wall. The kiss was so unruly, so much more dizzying than any of the delicate ones you’d share in your bedroom - it was forceful, daring, scratchy, and when both of his rough arms wrapped themselves around your waist and he murmured: “Jump.” into your mouth, you knew you weren’t leaving that room without bruises.

Despite being aware of that, though, you couldn’t help but test his dominance, at least a little bit. Being bratty was second nature; after all, you were the air to his fire. When you blew strong enough, you could calm it down, but when you blew however you pleased, you’d ignite it more intensely than any gasoline ever could. And you couldn’t take the fire out this time, so you might as well fuel it to the best of your abilities.

“I don’t want to. And take off the uniform, you’re not gonna fuck me with those shoulder pads on.”

He pulled away, staying close enough to your face so you could feel every riled exhale, enough so you could see his jaw clench and green eyes boring into yours so madly that you almost cowered under his gaze - however, you persisted. There was really no reason to answer like that, and both of you knew it, but you wanted to toy with him, have him earn your submission, no matter if he’s pissed out of his mind or not. In hindsight, that may have not been a good idea, and you realised that the longer he said nothing and stared at you in pure anger, but there’s no going back now, is there?

“I’ll fuck you however I want.” Clay muttered through gritted teeth. “And you’ll like it no matter what.”

With that, his arms were back around your hips, lifting you off the ground as if you weighed nothing, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist when he pushed you to lean against the wall. His lips were glued back onto yours in no time, your hand automatically darting to bury itself in his hair and pull, his fingers on your hips so tight they’d surely leave red marks. His lips left yours and you almost whined but held back when they moved to your neck, barely wasting any time before biting down on it, earning a gasp from you that you foolishly hoped he didn’t hear despite knowing there’s no way he missed it. He sucked on it, hard, to the point that you knew there’s no way it could be any shade other than dark, dark purple in a couple days’ time.

He set you down briefly, and you did your best to try and hide how impatient and upset you were getting, but he grabbed the hem of his jersey and pulled it up, tossing it to the side before getting rid of the shoulder pads as well, your eyes swerving over his sweaty, naked chest as he silently raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to do the same. You did nothing except lift your gaze back to Clay’s and stare at him with no emotion whatsoever.

“Take it off.” He commanded, gaze switching between your chest and eyes, waiting for you impatiently. You exhaled through your nose, just short of a chuckle.

“Do it yourself.” You shot back, seeing him cock his head to the side in an attempt to compose himself and flush down the anger, despite knowing it won’t work.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He scowled, hands immediately grabbing at your shirt and pulling it off, fingers quick on your back, fiddling with the clasp of your bra.

“And yet you still wanna fuck me like a dog in heat.” You retorted when the clasp loosened and he pulled the fabric down your arms, pressing another hungry kiss to your lips while he rolled one of your nipples through his fingers.

“You think you’ll still be talking to me like this when you’re begging me to cum and I say no?” Clay whispers in your ear right before his mouth moves down to circle his tongue around your other nipple, and neither of you fail to notice the goosebumps that cover your whole body. You don’t even get to manage a word out, syllables falling back into your throat when you swallow upon feeling his hands sneak themselves under your skirt, gripping your thighs.

“With how she’s talking, I’m sure my little brat isn’t wet right now. Right?” you feel your heart speed up when his hand moves a little further to the right and runs his fingers over your damp panties, brushing over your opening, fingers barely ghosting your clit. His pointer finger catches onto the fabric and pushes the underwear aside, leaving space for his middle finger to feel the juices that pour out of you, his touch feeling incredibly cold against your heat, feeling the tips of his fingers coat themselves in you before pulling away. His eyes meet yours paired with a smug smirk that you’ll never get to erase out of your memory.

“Oops.” he grins. “Seems like I was wrong.”

And then, when you least expect it, his fingers shove themselves in you, eliciting a muffled whimper, legs stumbling backwards to lean on the wall again when they start pumping in and out, lewd noises deafening you as you feel drops of wetness slipping down your thighs. He still persistently works his fingers inside your underwear, thumb sneaking inside too to rub at your clit, and that’s when he pushes a moan out of you, a sign of defeat - music to his ears. You can’t help it, can’t help any of it when it feels so good, when every time his wet finger brushes against your clit it sends a jolt through your whole body, your own hands twitching at the movement.

Your whole body sets aflame, head blazing, sweat escaping through strands of your hair the longer he keeps going, fingers stuffed in you, thrusting in and out like it’s his last, pushing you towards your orgasm more and more. Sure enough, your stomach starts twisting and your abdomen coils, something inside you pushing you off the walls as you arch more and more and grind into his unrelenting fingers.

“Cl-Clay… fuck, I’m-!” just as the words pass your lips, his fingers pull out, and the pleasure is entirely gone, ripped away from your hands as you stare up at him, feeling betrayed. Your hands instinctively move to your heat, as if of their own free will, but he grabs at your wrist before they make it to their destination.

“Don’t you dare. You come when I say so. I think I’ve made that very fucking clear, haven’t I?” Both of you know he’s stripped you of your brattiness when you say nothing, just swallow to mend your dry throat and quietly nod - you hate it, he loves it.

Clay pulls his shorts and underwear down his legs, and that’s when you realise you’re finally getting what you’ve been waiting for, so you hook your fingers around the waistband and pull your panties down, stepping out of them when you notice his cock, finally free and painfully throbbing as he strokes himself a few times. His eyes catch sight of the way you practically drool watching him, and he does nothing but scoff before your eyes meet.

“Get on the bench. All fours.” He commands and you comply, climbing onto one of them, arms and legs trembling where you place them.

“Watch your balance. I won’t be slow.” Clay says, guiding his cock into you, slowly pushing the tip inside as you hold your breath, waiting for him to just get on with it, already plenty stretched from the way his fingers fucked you open just seconds before.

“Won’t you now?” You murmur in irritation, words escaping you before you can even rationalise the fact that they won’t do you any good right now. “If you can’t play good, at least try to fuck me good.”

He stopped in his tracks and you froze, only realising that you may have crossed the line after the words were already long out of your mouth, and you opened it to apologise, but didn’t even get to inhale properly when he suddenly buried himself in you to the hilt, almost tearing you apart when his hips collide with yours and you let out a pained yelp, his cock stretching you out ten times more than his fingers had.

You felt his whole hand wrap itself around your throat before he pulled you up by it, pressing his lips close to your ear so you could hear every last breath of his.

“You know I play as good as I fuck - and best believe, I’ll fuck that brat out of you.” Clay growled into your ear before pushing you back down, not even giving you time to grip the bench before pulling out and thrusting back in with a low groan, setting a fast pace from the start.

You bit down on your lip with more and more force with every thrust - he filled you to the hilt every time, and you were sure you were drawing blood by now, a slight metallic taste coating your tongue from how hard you were holding back your moans. You were absolutely not gonna let him fuck the brat out of you.

He kept pumping into you wildly, pace brutal and unforgiving, and it took everything in you to be as quiet as possible, but then you felt a cold finger carefully rub at your sensitive clit, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore, a loud moan getting pushed out of your throat.

“Fuck! Clay…” you whimpered, trying to stabilise yourself on your shaky arms but barely succeeding because the more he pumped inside of you, the more it felt like he was forcing every thought in your brain out, replacing it with only him and his name. The hand gripping your hips left them, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling it whenever he thrusted back in, making you hiss out in a sick mix of pleasure and pain.

“F-Fuck, I…” your throat ran dry from how fast and ragged your breathing stayed - it felt like he was going faster and faster every second.

“This good enough for you, princess?” he exaggerated, mocking you, a little out of breath himself as he pushed farther and farther, thumb never leaving your clit. You swallowed, not able to give him a proper response besides dumbed down words and broken syllables. He angled himself a little different with the next thrust, which made him dive into a spot he hadn’t touched before, making you see stars as you let out a huge gasp, grabbing at his arm that pulled on your hair in a blind attempt to ground yourself.

“R-Right there… fuck, please don’t-don’t stop!” you cried out, a new wave of heat flooding your entire body as he kept hitting the same spot over and over again, making you blind, white imprinted behind your eyelids. Your brain, along with any rational thoughts turned off completely, leaving you with nothing but moans and gasps of his name and how scarily good his cock felt in you.

You felt your climax creeping up on you, slowly but surely, the heat from every part of your body accumulating in the pit of your stomach, feeling the knot ready to come undone any second now. You clenched around him painfully, unable to help the spasms, seconds away from orgasm to the point you could practically taste it. It seemed like Clay could taste it, too, because he slowed down, thrusting into you lazily, like he hadn’t fucked your brains out a moment ago.

“Say sorry.” he said, voice as stable and confident as ever, unwavering compared to your shaky, barely still there one.

“Wh-what?” It took the words a second to make their way from your ears to your brain, hazy mind clouded with nothing but him, unable to process what he’s even saying when he’s buried so deep in you.

“I said, say sorry.” he bumped into your sweet spot once again, leaving you mewling and your eyes closing on their own.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.” you stuttered, trying to piece your thoughts together while you could.

“Sorry for what?” he asked. “Sorry for the things you said, or sorry because you know I won’t let you come?”

“I’m-I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t-… I promise I didn’t mean it… Please, let me come, baby…” you whimpered out, grabbing at his arm again, trying to gain the little bit of sympathy you hoped he still had left.

“You’ll have to beg a little harder for me to even think about it, princess.” he chuckled, like the whole thing was damn hilarious, working his fingers on your clit again as your breathing stammered and you fought your best to get some words out.

“God, baby, please, you-you know I didn’t mean it… I’m sorry, so sorry…” you breathed out with another tired gulp. “You-...I-... please, baby, you can’t do this, I’m sorry, okay?”

“I can do whatever I fucking want to and I have some reason for it. What’s stopping me from using you like my own little fuckdoll right now and leaving you here with nothing except my own cum dripping out of you? What’s stopping me?” Clay snapped, pulling you by the hair again. You gulped again, feeling actually nervous this time.

“I… Please, baby, I won’t do it again, I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean any of the stuff I said, please, can you just-”

He interrupted you mid sentence with such a rough thrust that you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, his fingers back on your clit, feeling like you’re getting lifted up to the skies themselves once again. He managed to find the same angle, hitting the spot that made you feel hell and heaven all at once, pleasure prickling at every part of your body as you loudly moaned, putting no effort into concealing it or keeping silent anymore.

You felt the knot in your stomach once again, quicker than ever, slowly unraveling itself and your cries turned into ramblings, begging him to let you come.

“Pl-please, can I please… Fuck! Please, can I- I’m so close, shit, baby, can I please-” you stuttered, tears starting to pool in the corners of your eyes as you could almost touch your climax.

“Fuck, baby. Come for me.”

As soon as the words escaped his lips, you felt the knot finally untie itself and you let out a guttural moan, not caring who would hear or not - the pleasure was sickeningly sweet, almost making you ill, knocking you to your elbows as you couldn’t see, hear, feel nothing except the wave of pleasure washing over you repeatedly, beads of sweat running down your body.

The clenching of your heat against him while you climaxed drove Clay to the brink of insanity, coming himself before he could even realise it, filling you up to the brim with a few final thrusts. He stayed inside you for a few seconds while you were catching your breath, watching you uncontrollably spasm around him as you came down from the high, clenching around him every so often, all your senses overstimulated.

When your breathing evened out, he finally pulled out, grabbing the box of tissues from his locker as he slowly started to clean you up, wiping over your sensitive parts, holding you up lightly by the stomach so you wouldn’t fall whenever he touched one of the tender parts. You huffed out a large exhale.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Clay. Remind me to never provoke you after a game again, what the fuck.” you said, voice still shaky, and you heard him cackle behind you.

“I’ll probably be mad for the rest of the day anyways, but whatever.”

“You played good, by the way. Really good. I just wanted to piss you off.” You admitted, watching him stand up and look at you with a knowing smile, before pressing a light peck against your lips.

“Yeah, I figured.”

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken fanfic #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #dream x you #dreamwastaken x you #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfic #dream smut #dreamwastaken smut

4K notes · View notes

spenciebabie · 4 years

Note

this is a long one feel free to elaborate on it 😚😚

so softdom!spence ofc (our faves)

and you guys and the bau gang are just hanging out and obviously sex comes up and they all say that it's obvious your the dom in ur relationship and Spence is like 🤨🤨. And you play along w it cause ur embarrassed asf and they keep teasing him for it cause he seems so submissive. So hes very 😠😠😠

Long story short fast forward you guys get home and he's WRECKING YOU and you left your phone at the bar so a few of them come to return it to you. Blah blah they hear wayyy more than they meant to and Spencer waked up to a bunch of horrified notifications from his friends lmaoo

wow I got carried away

-🧁

i also got carried away 😳

— —

they have this idea of spencer, and watching your dynamic that night they all seem to agree that he’s the type to respond to your every whim. and he is, but that’s only because he likes to treat you so well outside of the bedroom, because you live to make him happy in it.

so when they catch you shaking your empty glass in front of spencer and he wordlessly grabs it to get you a new drink, only placing a little kiss on your cheek, penelope breaks out in a little giggle.

“you’ve got that boy wrapped around your finger” she quirks an eyebrow but you wave your hand to dismiss her

“it’s mutual, we’re both hopelessly wrapped around each other’s fingers” you smile, darting your eyes across the room to see spencer leaning against the bar.

“sure you are, but you’re clearly the one in charge” emily jumps in to clarify, and you shake your head again as spencer slips into the booth beside you and places your drink down in front of you

“what are we talking about?” he asks,

“we’re just talking about how y/n really seems like she’s the one on top if you know what I mean” penelope giggles. but you can almost feel the heat radiating off of spencer next to you. when you turn your head to look at him he’s looking back at you with a confused expression.

“is that so?” he asks, folding his arms and leaning back in the booth

“yup, you’re like her little lap dog, always running around after her” emily says, pointing to your fresh glass of wine on the table with a smirk.

“ah i see, so that makes me the submissive one? just to clarify?” he asks and they both nod

“well that, and your whole personality” peneople says, growing looser lipped with each sip of her drink.

by the time you make it home you hope he’s forgotten, or at least cooled off enough that he doesn’t care. but the second the door shuts he’s got you pinned up against it with his hand wrapped around your throat, just tight enough to cut off your breathing a little.

“im the submissive one huh?” he growls “you like the idea of that? you like the team thinking that you’re the one in charge?”

your chest is already heaving with each labored breath as you look up at him.

“no sir, im sorry sir” you gasp

“you were a bad girl tonight, you know that don’t you? teasing me, riling me up like that” he groans as his other hand slowly creeps up your thigh and comes to a stop right against the fabric of your panties. slowly he runs a finger back and forth along the soaked fabric, watching the way you come undone so easily.

“if only they could see you, such a desperate little thing. fucking soaked and ive barely even touched you. they don’t know you like i do, they don’t know that im in control, always”

“m’sorry— uh— please...” you whimper and he must take a little pity on you then.

“fine, because you used your manners like a good girl” he whispers against your ear before he drops to his knees, hooking his fingers in the elastic of your panties and sliding them down your legs. then he’s spreading them apart and burying his face between them. sucking gently against your sensitive clit for just long enough that your legs begin to shake.

“oh god— fuck— spence!” you moan, your fingers twisting in his hair. but he stops, rising up to his feet again and placing a kiss on your lips, his tongue diving into your mouth so that you can taste your own arousal.

he takes a moment to unbuckle his belt and pull out his cock, it looks painfully hard and flushed in his grip. when his hands come to rest on your backside he leans in close, “im gonna need you to jump for me baby” he growls, and you obey.

and then he’s got you pinned against the front door and he’s buried to the hilt inside of you. you can’t help but press your face into his shoulder to stifle your borderline pornographic moans.

“no” he commands, “i wanna hear you, no holding back”

so you lean your head back against the door, and it bangs against it just a little each time he thrusts into you, forcing a little yelp out of you each time.

“did you like pretending earlier?” he teases, “did the idea of you being in charge make you wet?”

“uh— ah, no!” you moan

“really? i don’t believe you” he almost chuckles, clearly enjoying the absurd time it takes you to form a sentence while he’s so deep inside you.

“i was turned on because— oh god— because i was thinking— uh! thinking about this” you manage to moan.

“about what sweetheart?”

“about what you were gonna do to me—” you have to take a break to breathe, “i wanted you to— uh”

“you wanted me to get angry?” he growls, and you can only nod your head.

“well that’s not something a good girl would do now is it?” for a moment you can see the excitement flash behind his eyes before he manages to hide it again. and then he’s picking up the pace, pounding into you so rough that you can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“aw are you gonna cry?” he teases, “i thought you wanted me angry, is this too much for you?”

you can’t summon anything more than a meek “no, i— i can take it” as the tears start to flow.

“hm, doesn’t look like it. maybe you’re just too tight, can’t take my cock. you really shouldn’t get yourself in trouble if you can’t handle it” he doesn’t let up as his hips thrust in and out, forcing your body against the hard wood of the door over and over and you grown closer.

“im sorry” you whimper, “im a good girl! i can take it, i promise— ah! please” it’s loud and desperate and almost a cry.

“you sure, you want me to fill up this tight little pussy? you want me to take what’s mine?” he asks, thrusts growing sloppier as he nears his own climax.

“fuck! yes! fill me up, im a good girl i swear” you moan as you cum, fingernails digging into his back through the fabric of his shirt.

it only takes another two or three thrusts before he’s spilling deep inside you, pushing it in further with a few lazy thrusts as he comes down.

the following morning you wake to spencer sitting bolt upright in the bed next to you, his phone in hand. on instinct you look over to the nightstand to grab yours but it’s not there. so you sit up too.

“what’s up, have we got a case? i can’t find my phone?” you grumble, rubbing your eyes and turning to spencer, but his eyes are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed red as he looks back at you.

“penelope’s got it” is all he says before he passes his phone to you and your own eyes bulge as you take in the messages.

penelope:

hey loverboy y/n left her phone at the bar, gonna drop it over on my way home x

i went straight home instead

okay im lying

i went over but i heard... noises. the specific kind of noises that people make while they’re...

i wish i didn’t have ears 😳

tell y/n i hope she survived

2K notes · View notes

lexosaurus · 3 years

Text

The Illusionist

Dannymay2021 prompt: Illusion

My Hero Academia x Danny Phantom crossover Word Count: 5262 Read on: [ao3]

---

“A kid?” Shouta asked.

The muffled sound of an explosion echoed from the other side of the phone line.

“He can’t be older than sixteen.” Kamui Woods' voice crackled through the receiver. “Eraserhead, this is going to sound crazy, but the kid has multiple quirks. We can’t get near him. He keeps...shit, he just flew through another wall!”

Shouta shifted his cell between his shoulder and ear, launching himself up a wall and onto the roof of a low building. He surveyed the distance and saw a bright green light flash from across the city.

That must have been them.

“We need you to nullify the quirks so we can contain him till the Illusionment wears off.”

“Alright,” Shouta said, jumping off the roof. “Send me your location. I’m on my way.”

It was a new villain, one that the public had dubbed ‘the Illusionist.’ His quirk was simple, yet effective. If he touched someone, he could make them hallucinate their worst fear.

So far, the heroes and detectives on the case hadn’t been able to figure out much about the Illusionist himself. He never struck the same victim twice, and he didn’t seem to stick around long enough for pro heroes to find him. Not to mention, the majority of his attacks happened in dark alleyways to the local homeless population, far from any cameras that would have been able to pick up his face.

And that fact made Aizawa’s blood boil. Because these weren’t attacks of revenge. No, they were attacks from someone who thought it was fun to mess with the disenfranchised. Someone who enjoyed exerting their powers over those they perceived to be less than, like some kid on a playground squishing ants beneath their sneakers.

The Illusionist’s influence was powerful, and each victim reacted differently. For some, they just froze up, lying motionless until they were found. For others, they lashed out at anyone who dared get close.

And in a society filled with countless unknown quirks, those of his targets who did lash out—though victims themselves—still needed to be dealt with.

The good news was, the quirk’s effects weren’t permanent, and he seemed to require a fairly long recharge time in between each attack. So the pro heroes never had to deal with more than one victim at a time.

So far, the heroes and police force had figured out two ways of dealing with the Illusionists’ victims. Either the victims were knocked out or put to sleep in some way, which seemed to instantly nullify the hallucination, or the victims were captured and taken to the police station to allow the quirk’s effects to naturally run their course.

Considering the heroes really wanted the victims brought in as peacefully as possible, it had been no surprise to Shouta when the other heroes started calling him in for assistance. Especially when the victims’ hallucinations caused them to fight back.

Such as, apparently, this one.

Shouta sprinted around a corner, panting. The cool night air brushed against his face, chilling his skin. He glanced down at his phone, only to see that Wood’s location had moved once again.

Which meant that the unstable, overpowered victim was on the move.

Wonderful.

Just then, his phone lit up.

Shouta didn’t wait to see who it was. “What is it?”

“Eraserhead,” Kamui Woods said. “We’re going to lead him to you. Meet us over by the abandoned antique warehouse. And keep your phone on you, he’s a flight risk. Literally.”

“Understood. Any injuries?”

“A few civilians, but medics are already on it. Nothing serious.”

“Good.”

Shouta hung up and changed his course. He weaved between buildings, kicking up water as puddles splashed at his feet.

If the heroes needed to lure the kid so far away from people, then things weren’t looking good.

Which meant that he needed to end this. Now.

But he didn’t make it to the warehouse. Not before a flying, glowing figure appeared through the wall, crashing into him first.

On instinct, Shouta activated his quirk and sent his capture weapon to the glowing figure, but his quirk had no effect. As soon as the scarf landed on the boy, he jerked away, phasing the scarf through his body.

Shouta blinked, deactivating and reactivating the quirk again. But just like the before, nothing happened. The figure—the boy—just continued to float in the air, his glowing green eyes staring wildly into the hero as if Shouta were the most terrifying human on Earth. He raised his hand, and a neon green swirling ball began to form around his fist.

“Watch out!” a voice behind him yelled.

Aizawa ducked just in time. The green blast hit the wall just above him, burning into the bricks like acid.

“Eraserhead, hurry!” Best Jeanist yelled.

Shouta tried again to activate his quirk, but it was no use.

The boy screamed, powering up an even bigger blast than last time.

“Eraserhead!”

Tree roots shot out in front of Shouta just in time. The blast hit Kamui Woods’ shield, splintering the roots and sending pieces flying through the air.

“Shit!” Shouta deactivated his quirk and jumped back, falling in line with the heros. “He’s resistant to my quirk!”

“We need to get him away from the residential area,” Best Jeanist said. “Force him to the industrial complex.”

“You’re not forcing me anywhere,” the teen roared back in a thick accent. His white glow ebbed and flowed around him as if he were drunk. “I won’t let you get me!”

“What is he seeing?” Shouta asked the three heroes behind him.

“A kidnapping of some sort,” Hound Dog replied.

“He keeps referring to us as ‘Operatives’. We’re unsure what that means.”

Apparently their talking only angered the glowing teen further. He raised a fist and his eyes brightened, changing from green to blue. “You’re not taking me!”

“Go!” Best Jeanist shouted.

The heroes jumped out of the alley just as the teen released the glowing blue energy ball, coating the pavement in a shockwave of jagged ice.

“How many quirks does this kid have?” Kumai Woods exclaimed.

Aizawa landed on the roof and released his capture weapon. “Doesn’t matter. Get him to the warehouse. I have a plan, but I have to make a call first.”

“Got it!”

The heroes jumped off the roof, chasing the kid out the alley and through another building.

“Don’t lose him!” Hound Dog yelled, running around the corner after him.

Shouta stayed back, pulling out his phone and pressing one of his emergency contacts. He watched as another blue beam glowed from a few blocks over, followed by a burst of green.

What the hell is that kid?

He couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed. The kid could talk, could communicate, and yet he had multiple quirks? In the ten seconds Shouta had seen him, he was witness to flight, phase-shifting, glowing, cryokinesis, a green energy beam, and immunity to Shouta’s quirk.

And yet, the kid wasn’t a nomu. He had intelligence. He seemed like he could have been a regular teen. A glowing one, sure, but a regular teen nonetheless.

So how did he end up with multiple quirks? And how did he become the Illusionist’s latest target? The Illusionist had only ever targeted homeless adults before. How did this teen get caught up in the mix?

Unless he was homeless himself.

The ringing stopped, and a tentative voice picked up from the other line. “Sensei?”

Shouta breathed a sigh of relief. “Shinso, I need you to come to the field. I’ll send you a location. We need your quirk.”

“My quirk?” Shinso asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

One day Shouta would crack through that massive layer of insecurity Shinso still clung onto about his quirk.

“Illusionist hit a kid with multiple quirks. We can’t get near him and he’s resistant to my quirk. We need you to subdue him. Put him to sleep.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

“Sending a location now.”

Shouta hung up and forwarded his location before darting over to the scene, using the sound of the kid’s frantic attacks as his GPS.

His feet pounded on the concrete. His quirk and capture weapon may have been useless against the kid, but that was fine. All he had to do was stall for time before Shinso could subdue him.

There was a loud bang, followed by a crash. Shouta skidded around the block and, using his weapon, launched himself onto a nearby roof.

There was a large hole in the side of a building that thankfully appeared to be empty. Dust clouded the air, but through it Shouta could see the kid backing into the building like a cornered animal, his arms raised and glowing a threatening acid green.

Kumai woods stepped forward slowly, his arms raised above his head. “We don’t want to hurt you!

“Don’t—don’t come another step!” The teen growled, stumbling to the side. His voice had an odd, echoing quality to it. “I’ve escaped your stupid compound once, and I’ll do it again!”

Shouta jumped down from the roof, landing in front of the heroes. He crouched down, trying to appear as non threatening as possible. “What compound?”

The kid let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t act stupid! You were gloating enough last time!”

“We’re not going to take you to a compound,” Kumai Woods tried.

But reasoning with someone under the Illusionist’s influence was futile. Heroes and police officers had attempted it before, and it never worked.

“I’m not an idiot! I know what you do to people like me!”

Shouta froze, alarm bells going off in his head. Something was just... wrong. On a fundamental level, something wrong had happened to this kid. And based on the way his eyes darted around the empty room, he looked about a second away from making an escape.

Okay, Shouta had to stall. If the kid thought that the heroes were kidnappers, then maybe he could draw this out.

He tilted his head questioningly. “Sorry, I’m new here.” He felt his coworkers’ eyes burning against the back of his skull. “I wasn’t here for the last time.”

The kid’s distorted eyes locked onto him. “I’m sure you’ve read the reports.”

“Haven’t had time, actually. This is my first day.”

“You’re still wearing the suit. You’re still with them.”

Shouta stared at him for a moment. The kid’s stark white hair floated as if defying gravity, and the glow around him had almost an ethereal presence. But what stood out the most to him was his clothing. He was dressed like something out of a laboratory. His suit was thin and rubbery, with rubber gloves and boots to match.

He was definitely the product of a science experiment. There was no doubt about it. Likely a trafficked kid taken from another country and transported here for human experimentation.

Aizawa felt sick.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“You know where.”

“I told you, this is my first day. I just moved here. I don’t know you yet.”

Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for the teen. “I’m not saying anything. You can ask Operative K over there.” He nodded towards Best Jeanist.

“What sorts of things did they do to you? Last time?”

“I—I don’t—” the teen stuttered, the green glow flickering out from his fists. He clamped his hands over his ears. “Shut up!”

“I don’t want to do those things,” Shouta continued. “I don’t want to...use you like that.”

“It doesn’t matter. If you’re with them, you’re here to take me. And I can’t, I can’t do that again. I’ll never let you take me. I’m smarter than your whole organization and you know it.” His eyes brightened with a frantic energy, warping until one eye was green and the other blue. “I’ve escaped from your stupid white compound once, and I’ll do it again.”

Aizawa rose slowly.

This wasn’t looking good.

Hurry up, Shinsho.

The kid raised his arms, and a swirling mass of green and blue encased his fist, traveling up his forearms and swallowing his elbows. It pulsated and grew, casting a shadow over the teen’s face.

“Eraserhead!” Hound Dog warned.

“I’m not going quietly.”

Shouta readied himself to dodge when a flash of purple caught his eye.

“Hey kid!” Shinso called out.

Glowing green and blue snapped over to the source of the new voice. “What?” he hissed.

Shouta could almost see the satisfied smirk under Shinso’s mask.

“Go to sleep.”

The effect was immediate. The mass of energy faded from the kid’s hands, leaving only his natural white glow. He lowered himself to the ground until his toes were touching the cement, then his knees, and finally his head. Then, just when his eyes fluttered close, a white ring appeared at his waist, traveling up his body replacing the glowing, ethereal teen with a small European looking boy.

“Whoa,” Shinso breathed.

Despite the protests behind him, Shouta slowly made his way over to the teen. His white hair had changed to black, and his skin had lost its glow completely. His laboratory clothes had been replaced with ripped jeans and a dirty white and red shirt.

He looked...plain. Boring and scrawny. If Shouta hadn’t witnessed the terrifying figure just moments ago, he could have passed the boy off as just a quirkless kid.

Whatever he was, he was asleep.

“Good job, Hitoshi,” he said, turning back around to face the heroes. Not to his surprise, his husband and other child were among the group. “Present Mic, Todoroki,” he greeted.

Hizashi—ever the optimist—gave Shouta a cheerful wave along with a chipper, “Hello!” while Shouto stood quietly behind the heroes.

“Who is he?” Shinso asked, eyeing the sleeping teen warily.

Best Jeanist made his way over to the group. “Some kid with multiple quirks. Likely from experimentation. With his amount of quirks, we have no idea what he’s like mentally. We need to get him to the police.”

“We sent them your location already. They should be here soon,” Hizashi said.

“Good.”

Shouta gave the kid one last glance.

What happened to him?

---

It didn’t take long before the police, led by Detective Tsukauchi, arrived at the scene. They were able to get the kid into quirk inhibitors, load him into the back of a car, and bring him into the station before he woke up.

Yamada brought the boys back home before meeting him at the station. Shouta made a mental note to grab Shinsho his favorite take-out meal tomorrow for his immaculate quirk usage.

When they arrived at the station, they brought a couch into one of the interrogation rooms, put the kid on it, and waited.

Shouta almost felt bad for him. It would have been scary for anyone to wake up after a traumatic hallucination wearing quirk inhibitors in a cold, unfeeling room. But unfortunately, nobody had known the extent of his quirks. Victim or not, he was still unstable.

Aside from sitting upright, the kid hadn’t moved an inch, and he couldn’t seem to be able to pass the inhibitors through his body like he had with Shouta’s capture weapon.

Which was good. That meant that the quirk inhibitors were doing their job.

Shouta stared at him through the one-way mirror. He’d been half expecting the same frantic energy from the teen boy as before, but the teen just sat there quietly. His slumped body language screamed resigned, while his eyes were slowly shifting around the room as if to memorize every speck of dust in the air.

“You would never suspect that kid would have multiple quirks,” Yamada said next to him. “He just looks so...tiny.”

Aizawa took a large gulp of his much-needed coffee. “And yet, he does.”

The door behind them opened, and a woman stepped through. She stopped in front of Detective Tsukauchi. “He’s not registered. We scanned the database and found no record of anyone with multiple quirks that fit his description. In addition, we ran the sample of the green substance from his projection quirk and couldn’t find any matches to any known compounds on record. We’ve sent the samples out for further testing.”

“No matches?” Shouta asked.

“Interesting.” Detective Tsukauchi said. He turned towards the interrogation room’s door. “I believe it’s time to talk to our victim. Suzuki, I want you to stay outside. I think having more than one adult in the room may scare him off. Use your quirk, though. I have a feeling our victim may be a bit wary.”

The woman nodded and stationed herself next to Shouta. She stared at the boy, blinked, and then her eyes began to glow.

“It’s showtime.”

The moment the doorknob moved, the black haired teen’s body language shifted to something more alert, more guarded. His blue eyes tracked Tsukauchi’s movements until the detective had sat down in his metal chair.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Detective Tsukauchi. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble today. Would you like some water?”

The teen didn’t respond.

“Do you remember what happened?”

Based on previous victims’ responses, they had always been able to remember the hallucinations, but they couldn’t recall their actions or where they were during those times.

“It’s okay if you don’t. Again, you’re not in trouble.”

But the kid wasn’t relaxing. If anything, he looked more guarded than before. “If I’m not in trouble, then why am I here?”

“You were hit by a quirk,” he explained. “Have you heard of the Illusionist?”

The teen shifted. “Maybe.”

“He’s a villain who makes people experience their worst fears.”

A spark of recognition hit the boy’s eyes, but it was quickly masked by the previous reserved expression. “So I got hit.”

“Yes. So far his targets have all been random attacks.” Tsukauchi opened his manila folder, pulling out photographs and handing them to the teen. “This was from earlier tonight. Do you remember any of this?”

He scanned the photographs, and Aizawa watched as the color drained from the teen’s face. He stared at the folder in silence for a moment before his shaky voice said, “If I’m not in trouble, I’d like to leave.”

“We just have a few questions we’d like to ask in order to help us catch him.”

“I want to leave.”

Detective Tsukauchi seemed unphased by the kid’s request. “Alright, can I get your name? We can call your parents to come pick you up.”

As expected, the teen didn’t like this. He shoved the photographs back into Tsukauchi’s hands, leaned back against the couch, and crossed his arms. “I’m eighteen. Can I go now?”

“He’s lying,” Detective Suzuki whispered next to them.

Recognition sparked in Shouta’s brain. He remembered her, she had a Lie Detection quirk. It was quite useful for police work.

“In that case, we were unable to obtain any record of any adult with your quirk combinations. Japanese law dictates that every citizen must be registered in our quirk database. So if you are unregistered, then we’d need to go through the registration process before we can release you.”

“I’m not a Japanese citizen.”

“You here on vacation?”

The kid glared to the wall. “Something like that.”

“American?”

“Yeah.”

“How long have you been visiting?”

The teen shrugged.

Tsukauchi jotted something down in his notebook. “Then I’d need to see your passport and visitor’s documentation for the official record, since you are now a victim in an ongoing investigation.”

The teen’s eyes narrowed, and he slumped down further into the cushion. “I don’t have any.”

“What happened to it?”

The teen shrugged.

Yamada leaned into Shouta’s ear. “He’s backed into a corner.”

“Yup,” Shouta took another swig at his coffee. “He can’t get out of this one.”

The teen huffed, frustration and a tint of fear strewn across his features. He ran a hand through his messy black hair. “Listen, can I just go? I don’t remember anything, okay? I was just sleeping and then all of the sudden I...I...he got me. But I swear I wasn’t doing anything, and I didn’t see his face.”

Detective Tsukauchi nodded compassionately. “I’m very sorry that this happened to you. It’s a very vivid and traumatic experience to go through. Unfortunately, we’re in a bit of a bind currently seeing as you are either an unregistered quirk user, or you have no proof that you’re in this country legally. Now if it’s true that you’re eighteen, we can’t let you leave without contacting the US embassy to get your identification.”

Any color left in the teen’s face vanished. “What if...what if they can’t identify me?”

“Can’t identify you? For what reason?”

The teen stood suddenly and walked over to the wall. His hands trembled, and he looked downright terrified.

Who was he scared of?

He picked at the ragged hem of his shirt. “I don’t—I’m not exactly…they—they just don’t know I exist.”

Shouta glanced at Suzuki, who seemed perplexed.

“Is he telling the truth?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Suzuki said. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but he at least believes that he doesn’t have citizenship in Japan or the United States.”

“Even though he’s American.”

“Exactly.”

Aizawa’s brows furrowed, and he looked back at the teen, who was pressed up against the wall wringing his wrists with his fingers.

“Can you give me your name?” Detective Tsukauchi asked.

The teen bit his lip. “Uh it’s—it’s…” His voice was strangled. “It’s Danny Fenton.”

“He’s telling the truth.”

Detective Tsukauchi gave him a comforting smile. “Okay, Danny. And do you know where you were born?”

“Uh…The United States.”

“But, and correct me if I’m wrong, you have no birth certificate? And no documentation to show legal entry to Japan?”

“I—yeah.”

“And you’re here in Japan now. Where have you been staying exactly?”

Danny’s eyes darted around the room. “I don’t know...around?”

“Okay,” Detective Tsukauchi shut his manila folder and stood. “Again, you’re not in trouble. You were a victim of a very serious crime, and we’re here to help you. I’m going to make a quick call, and I’ll be right back. The door’s unlocked if you need anything.”

If anything, that only made Danny look more anxious than before. He nodded, his face sheet white, and he tugged at the inhibitors on his wrists.

“What’s gonna happen to him?” Yamada asked quietly. He was dressed in his civilian clothes, and his hair was thrown up into a messy low bun. Without his uniform, his compassion towards the child shined out like a beacon.

It was one of the many qualities that Shouta loved about him. His strong sense to protect the innocent, his caring nature to kids and those who were vulnerable in society, and the kindness he radiating from his being were qualities that were rare even among heroes.

“We’ll contact the US embassy, but if the boy’s telling the truth and he doesn’t have a social security number or birth certificate, then he’ll get picked up by Musutafu’s social services and he’ll be put into the system.”

Yamada stared sadly at the child through the mirror. “He’ll just run away again.”

“He will,” Shouta agreed.

“I wish we could help him.”

Shouta sighed. “We can’t save everyone.”

“But you see it, don’t you?” Yamada asked. “There’s something going on that the kid’s not telling us. How else could he have gotten multiple quirks? Do you think it has anything to do with the League?”

Shouta glanced back at Danny, who was currently crouched against the wall with his head in his hands. He looked so small, so fragile. Aizawa could only wonder what events had led him here.

Just who was Danny Fenton?

“Shouta, we can’t let him out on his own. We just can’t.”

Shouta sighed, running his thumb along the side of his coffee cup. “I know,” he said.

And he meant it.

---

“So…” Shouta started.

Danny just looked tired.

It had been a long night. Detective Tsukauchi got a hold of the US embassy’s emergency line, but they didn’t have any records of a Danny Fenton that had left the United States, nor did they have a single missing children’s report of a Danny Fenton, nor could they supposedly dig up any information of a Danny Fenton based on the information that Danny himself supplied, specifically that he was born in Illinois in a city called Amity Park.

It was as if he didn’t exist.

Detective Suzuki’s quirk was powerful, and it didn’t seem like Danny was able to fool it. After he met her and she explained her quirk to him, he finally admitted he was only fifteen. So then who was this kid? If he was from Amity Park, why did the United States have no record of him?

The heroes knew he had parents, but apparently—and Suzuki confirmed this—they’d disowned him, giving him to some shady organization. Danny wouldn’t say to who ended up with custody of him, but from what they’d been able to piece together, it hadn’t been good.

And any further digging just resulted in Danny clamming up.

So Danny was a runaway, one that apparently didn’t exist in either country he had lived in. And there was something out there that had terrified him into escaping to Musutafu and hiding here.

But he wouldn’t say what.

Regardless, the Musutafu police department now had a case of a minor in Japan who didn’t have any parents, guardians, or any known relatives in the country, nor did he have any record of housing at any point.

It was as if this kid were a ghost or something.

“What’s gonna happen to me?” Danny asked, hugging himself in his chair.

He seemed smaller up close. Too small.

“Well, social services will take you and place you in foster care,” Shouta responded.

“Oh…” Danny looked down. “You know...you’ve seen my powers. I’ll just disappear the moment we leave this building.”

Shouta raised his brows.

Of course, they all knew it. But the kid certainly had guts for admitting it out loud.

“Who are you running from?” Shouta asked.

Danny blinked at his bluntness. “No one.”

Shouta leaned in. “Is it the League of Villains? Are you connected with them?”

Danny’s arms shot out from his sides, waving frantically in front of his face. “No! No, I swear! I’m not a villain!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I…” Danny looked lost.

“You have multiple quirks. That’s something the league’s been experimenting with. And they’re not shy about using real people to do so.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I’ve never met them.”

“But you weren’t born with multiple quirks,” Shouta said. “Something happened that made you this way.”

He could see as all the pieces slowly crumbled inside Danny. The kid went from looking confused, to downright terrified.

Bingo.

Aizawa’s instincts never failed him.

“Please, just let me go,” Danny begged. “I promise I won’t do anything. Please don’t hurt me.”

Shouta’s eyes widened. “Kid, slow down. I’m not here to hurt you. Okay? I’m on your side.”

That didn’t seem to help Danny at all.

Shouta set his arms on the table where Danny could see them. “You know, one of my foster kids has multiple quirks.” It was a half lie, but he didn’t think that Shouto would mind.

Sure enough, that seemed to pique Danny’s interests. “Really?”

“Yeah. Great kid, about your age. His father was experimenting with creating children who could house multiple quirks to offset his own quirk’s disadvantages, and my foster son came out of it. Just like you, he spent a lot of his life hiding too. He was alone, and scared. He didn’t know what to do or who he could trust, so he just hid.”

“What changed?” Danny asked.

“He asked for help,” Shouta said. “And we were able to bring him into a stable home.”

Danny’s eyes clouded over, and his face transformed into one of longing. As if he were visiting a memory that had long since abandoned him.

“We can get you that help too if you ask for it.”

“I...I can’t…”

Shouta sighed. “How long are you going to keep hiding? Running? Are you really okay with spending the rest of your life out on the streets?”

Danny ducked his head down. “It’s not so bad,” he muttered.

“But kid, you deserve so much more than that.”

The teen’s shoulders shuddered. He sniffed, and his hand shot up to wipe his eye.

Shouta refused to look away from him. “I don’t know how you got here, I have no idea what you’ve been through, but I know that you didn’t deserve it, and that regardless of what you think, you deserve a safe place to go home to.”

“I...I…” he croaked, curling into himself. Tears splashed onto his cheeks.

“You’re strong, you’ve done so much alone. Now we can help you.”

“I can’t…”

“You can, Danny.”

At that, Danny broke. He squeezed his eyes shut, twisting his hoodie in his hands. Shouta watched as he tried to muffle his sobs, but he couldn’t. His body shook as his emotions poured into the open.

Shouta didn’t know how long this kid had been holding it all in. Just how many days, weeks, months had he been shoving everything down, too focused on surviving each day to be able to stop and feel?

Pain stabbed Shouta’s heart. He remembered that torment all too well, one of homelessness, of abuse, of not knowing where his next meal was coming from and fighting for the bare necessities. Although he wasn’t so much of a soft, touchy-feely guy himself, right now he wanted nothing more than to reach over and hug the crying teen.

When it seemed like Danny was finally able to pull himself together, Shouta leaned in and asked, “Will you let me help you, Danny?”

Danny scrubbed at his eyes and nodded.

“If you want,” he said, making sure to articulate each word clearly. “I can assist you in getting placed in a good home. There’s another option too.”

“Yeah?”

“The other option is you can stay with me.”

Danny stilled, his eyes shooting open and his lips dropping to form a small ‘o’.

“My husband and I have a city approved foster home, and we also happen to have an open bed at the moment. Given your unique situation, I have the option of housing you if you’ll let me.”

Danny didn’t respond. He just continued to stare at Shouta in shock.

“Of course,” Shouta said quickly. “If you are uncomfortable with that, and it’s okay if you are, there are other good foster homes out there that I personally know and can get you placed in. It’s whatever you prefer.”

The teen closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he finally looked back at Shouta, he had that same longing expression as before. “If it’s alright...could I stay with you? At least for a little while?”

The corners of his lips tugged up. He remembered all too well when Yamada turned to him just before Shouta was about to age out of the foster system and asked him if he wanted to move in together. He remembered the shock, the surprise that anyone could possibly care that much about him, that anyone would want to live with him.

And now, he had a family. One that was about to become a little bigger.

“Of course. I’d love to have you.”

---

Thanks for reading!

[check out some of my other fics]

#danny phantom #dannymay2021 #bnha #my hero academia #my writing #aka danny has A Bad Time #but it's ok because dadzawa

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just-jordie-things · 3 years

Text

(Please Don’t) Leave Me Alone - Richie Tozier

word count: 3142 warnings: swearing, mentions of being drugged summary: maybe richie ignoring you had more reason to it than you thought. maybe he was just... jealous? ___

Looking back on it now, going to a party by herself was probably the worst idea (y/n’s) ever had. Not because she disliked parties, she loved them, but she’d always gone in a group, or with a friend. Tonight, she’d gone completely alone.

She’d thought it would be exciting, she could do whatever she wanted, and stay as late or leave as early as she pleased, not having to wait for a friend hooking up with a stranger or a ride home. She could drink to no end and meet new people- it was a good idea, in theory.

Except now, she was trapped between a rock and a hard place. Meaning the wall, and Steven Matson’s arm. Earlier the attention had been welcomed, she didn’t mind being flirted with by a cute guy, it’d been a while since anyone had flirted with her, honestly, so it was very welcomed.

There was once a time where she didn’t really have to worry about that kind of attention, because she used to always get it from-

“Want me to get you another drink?” The boy in front of her asked, shaking her thoughts.

“Hm? Oh,” She nods, handing him her empt cup. “Yeah, sure, thanks”

He grins in response before leaving. And she doesn’t realize that she’s been holding her breath until she sighs, and slumps back against the wall.

Steven’s not that exciting, she realizes. He’s been chatting her ear off for the past- who knows, hour, maybe? And she couldn’t recall a single thing he’d said. It wasn’t due to the alcohol either. He was just that simple.

He wasn’t ugly, though.

Running her hands through her hair, she wished that she had a tie to pull it back, because it was suddenly very hot in the room, and it was all she could focus on. The smell of sweat from dancing and bustling bodies, and how much heat they generated in this small room. She wanted to head outside for a breath of fresh air, but there was no way she could make it out and back in time to see Steven.

She made a glance towards the door, just out of curiosity, to see if she could run there and back. But her eyes landed elsewhere.

On a tall, curly mop of haired figure that had just wandered in.

Richie’s eyes met hers, and she darted her gaze elsewhere with an inhumane speed.

Richie Tozier was her best friend, or at least he used to be. In the past month he’d been shutting her out, until eventually he was more of a ghost than a friend at all. She didn’t know what she did, or what happened that made him not want to hang out with her anymore, but it was no use trying to ask, because anytime she tried to talk to him, he’d vanish.

At first it was heartbreaking, because she’d known him for so long, and she thought that they were close enough to talk through any rough patch they could go through. But as time went on and Richie pushed himself further away, (y/n) only became annoyed, and was a bit more eager to let him do whatever he wanted.

And if he wanted nothing to do with her, then fine. She wasn’t going to beg him to stay.

Even though she really, really wanted to.

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much”

(y/n) nearly jumped when Steven appeared in front of her, one arm caging her in while he handed her a drink. She gave him a short, weak smile, and backed herself up until the wall wouldn’t allow her to move away any further. The flaw in this plan, however, is that Steven just followed, and the space between them was even shorter.

“Course not” She mumbled back, and was about to take a drink from her cup, before she noticed the strange fizzing at the bottom.

Great. He spiked it with something.

She let out a soft sigh, lifting the cup to her lips and pretending to take a sip, so that he wouldn’t realize she caught on to his dumb scheme.

Tonight couldn’t have gone more terribly.

“So, whaddya say you and I go somewhere else?”

(y/n) looked up at him, eyes bored, and a eyebrow raised as if to say ‘really?’.

“Somewhere, huh?” She hums, only for her own entertainment. “Like where?”

“Well we could go upstairs…” He suggested, leaning in closer. It took a lot of energy for her not to shrink away.

God his breath smelled like beer.

“Or to my car out front,” He continued. “Or honestly, we could just-”

“Alright pal,” (y/n) pushed her hand into his arm, and began to shove him away so she could leave. “It’s not happening”

With that, she began to walk off, tossing her drugged drink to the ground carelessly.

“Wait wait wait,” Steven spun around, snatching her arm in his hand so she’d stop. “But all night you-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She snapped at him, yanking her arm to get it of his hold, but he was much stronger than her. “Steven let go-”

“You’re such a fucking tease, (y/n),” He snarled, the playful and flirty voice long gone. “Leading me on all night long, and now you’re acting like you don’t want this”

There’s a split second where she’s genuinely afraid of him, because his grip is unrelenting, and the look in his eyes suggests that he doesn’t care whether she gives in willingly or not.

And as soon as the idea of yelling for help crosses her mind, the feeling is gone.

Because she’s torn away from Steven’s hold, and there’s a secure hold around her waist.

“Why don’t you fuck off, Matson” A voice mutters.

All of the fear she’d previously felt disappeared, and it’s replaced by the surprise of having Richie right there next to her, keeping her firmly held against his side.

He’s being protective.

Steven rolls his eyes, obviously not giving a shit about Richie’s little display. He scoffs, glancing from Richie to (y/n).

“Come on, why don’t you tell your little guard dog here that you can speak for yourself, and that he can go and fuck off now?” Steven asks.

(y/n) scoffs, staring at him with disgust, and honestly, she should spit on him. She wants to spit on him, fuck she really wants to step forward and spit right on his face-

“Matson, I swear to fucking god, if another shitty fucking thing comes out of your mouth, I’ll break it,” Richie’s hand is tightening on her hip, and he’s pushing her behind him a bit. “Seriously, walk away”

He’s practically growling, and even when they were friends she’d never seen him so… angry.

“Richie fucking Tozier why are you here being a buzzkill?” Steven spat out, taking a daring step forward. “She clearly doesn’t even give a shit about you, so why don’t you just-”

The loud crack of skin on skin was a sharp echo, and anyone in a five foot radius could hear the burning sensation on Steven’s cheek.

(y/n) was panting, and she shook out her hand, because the slap stung her palm more than she thought it would.

“Fuck you” She muttered to the boy who was holding his cheek and whining like a baby.

She cast a glance towards Richie for a short moment, before shoving past him and making her way to the door. She was done with this night, this party, she just wanted to go home and curl up into a ball under her blankets and forget all of this had happened.

Of course, she wasn’t able to leave that easy, and as soon as she walked out the door, someone hollered for her.

She looked back at Richie, before shaking her head, and continuing her trek.

“What do you want?” She muttered, leaving him no choice but to chase after her in order to catch up.

She barely even looked at him.

“Jesus, (y/n/n), give me some credit, I’m here to make sure you’re okay”

“Wow,” She rolls her eyes. “Thanks. Really,”

Her voice is monotone, so he knows she doesn’t mean it, and it’s annoying, but she continues before he can come up with some witty snap back remark.

She stops in her tracks, whirling around and shoving an accusatory finger into his chest. He stumbles backward, caught off guard from the sudden action, but he catches his footing, left to watch her explode.

“Thanks for showing up, and for being there. Wow, Richie. Just… wow”

It’s more of a simmer than an explosion, but it feels just as bad.

(y/n) starts to walk off again, but Richie just runs up to her side again.

“For fucks sake (y/n)- will you pause for just a second-?”

“No!” She shouts, shaking her head furiously. “No, Rich, I won’t, I’m not going to- I- I can’t wait for you anymore, I’m tired of waiting for you,” Her voice cracks, and he knows that if she starts crying right now, then he’s going to break. “So can you please just… just go back to icing me out because it was honestly easier”

She sniffles, and turns away to walk home in peace. It hurts to walk away but she’s just so tired of his bullshit. Never before had her own body felt so heavy, each step making her bed more and more enticing.

Richie didn’t say anything, but he kept walking next to her.

She looked up at him, teary eyes narrowed, and her brow furrowed in a glare, but Richie just shrugged his shoulders.

“Well I’m not gonna let you walk yourself home alone at this time of night,” He said, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “So you’ll just have to put up with me for the next ten minutes”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes again, but doesn’t give him the benefit of a remark, opting instead to keep her mouth shut.

She makes it a whole minute before feeling compelled to say something.

“What were you even doing there?” She muttered out, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. “I thought you hated parties now”

He lets out a chuckle, earning another glare from the girl.

“To come save you, obviously,” He teases, which she definitely doesn’t appreciate. “I just thought I’d give it a shot, seeing as I had nothing else going on tonight”

She didn’t know what she wanted to hear, but that certainly wasn’t it. And Richie could tell, because she was frowning.

“Are you mad?” He asked with a chuckle.

“You did not just fucking ask me that” She mutters back.

“(y/n), you asked, what did you want me to say?” He asks, and she just scoffs.

“I didn’t need you to swoop in like some hero and rescue me, Richie,” She told him. “You might find this hard to believe, but I’ve actually learned to live on my own now thank you very much. And with that means I can protect myself, I don’t need you to-”

“Alright, I get it,” He mutters. “Your ‘standing back and doing nothing’ was your way of standing up for yourself,” He says, and before (y/n) can argue, he’s muttering again. “My apologies, I didn’t realize you had that handled. Which is why I came over to help your ass-”

“Alright, that’s enough-”

“-which would have been his, by the way, had I not intervened”

“Congratu-fucking-lations!” (y/n) shrieked. “Go ahead and pat yourself on the fucking back then. What do you want from me? Huh? Do you really think I would’ve let Steven fucking Matson have his way with me?”

“No, I don’t think that,” Richie mumbled. “But I didn’t like the way he was looking at you. Or grabbing you like that-”

“Wow,” (y/n) rolled her eyes. “I honestly didn’t think you still gave a fuck”

Richie looked down at her, but she’d rendered him speechless, so he didn’t say anything. He looked forward as they walked in silence for a little while longer.

It was silent until they got to her porch.

She looked up at him, with a sad sort of expression, like looking at him broke her heart. And quite frankly, it did.

“Thanks for walking me home, Richie,” She said in a soft mutter. “You can go back to forgetting about me now”

She turned to walk inside, but his hand stopped her. It wrapped around her wrist delicately, in a hold much more gentle than Steven had her in earlier. If she wanted, she could tug her arm away and go inside. If she wanted.

“For the fucking record,” Richie muttered down to her, voice so low it was almost in a growl like it had been earlier. “I wasn’t icing you out because I wanted to. You think I want to? For fucks sake (y/n), I couldn’t be around you anymore because I was so goddamn in love with you that it hurt being around you when you obviously didn’t feel the same way. You don’t know how much it fucking sucks being friendzoned by you. I thought it was going to be easier not having you around, than having you right in front of me, and out of reach,”

Her heart is pounding, and she could feel it everywhere. From her chest to her stomach to her through to her cheek to the very tips of her fingers- she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Richie had been in love with her? It was almost too good to be true, and normally she wouldn’t believe it, but she could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice, he’d never been more serious about anything.

“I’m sorry for doing it,” He continues. “But if I hadn’t, I would’ve lost my fucking mind”

“That’s such bullshit,” (y/n) mumbles, her breath hitching in her throat. “You shut me out because you had feelings for me?” She asks, and Richie furrows his brows, offended by the outburst. “Did you ever think about- I don’t know- just telling me?” She asks with a humorless laugh. “I mean, jesus Richie, we would’ve been together this whole fucking time, but instead you make me think that you hate me and you shut me out-”

“Hold on- stop- you liked me?” Richie asks, shocked by her off-handed confession.

“Liked you?” (y/n) repeats breathlessly. “Richie, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, you fucking dumbass-”

She raises her hand up to shove him in the chest, but he captures it with his own before leaning over and kissing her. It’s sudden, so sudden that she trips on nothing but the sheer surprise of his lips on hers, but Richie’s arm wraps around her waist, securing her against him.

A sigh escapes her, one of content and safety, and she melts against him, almost becoming a puddle on her doorstep. The hand in his is held tightly against his chest, and the other is gripping his shoulder, keeping her balanced.

He kisses her again, quickly, before she can completely pull away. Just in case she decides to walk through her door and never look at him again.

When they part, it’s slow, and his hand flies up to cup her cheek, a quick but gentle action, and his thumb traces over her cheekbone with a featherlight touch.

Her eyes are still shut, and she blindly leans forward a bit, close enough that when she whispers, he feels it against his lips.

“Are you gonna go back to ignoring me?”

He chuckles, stealing another quick peck, before shaking his head.

She finally opens her eyes, and instantly, there’s a smile on her lips.

“I guess that depends, on if you want to go out with me tomorrow night?”

“To a party?” She asks.

“No, of course not,” Richie shakes his head. “Anything else, literally anything else” He murmurs, and she grins even wider, nodding her head.

“Yeah, yeah anything else sounds good to me” She agrees softly.

She’s still nodding, in a shaky sort of way, and Richie has to cup her face in both hands to get her to stop.

“Okay,” He hums. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, then”

“Okay,” She repeats. “I’ll see you tomorrow”

He gives her a grin, before letting go of her, and stepping back.

“Alright then” He hums.

She watches him go, a delighted smile on her face. Her heart is still pounding in her chest, and she thinks it might never stop.

“Wait, Rich,”

She calls when he’s descended her front steps, and she’s quick to race up to him, wrap her arms around him, and lean over the few inches that she’s towered above him, and kiss him one more time.

His arms encircle her waist, holding her flush against his chest. She’s on her tiptoes on the step, and one of her feet lifts off the ground, both from the bliss and from Richie picking her up, just a little bit.

“I just wanted one more,” She murmured, and Richie laughed, kissing her quickly once more, and then again. “Okay, Romeo,” She sighed. “You better go home before my parents come out and see us”

“Fine, fine,” He sighed, and backed away, reluctantly releasing her from his arms. “Tomorrow”

“Tomorrow” She says back.

She combs her fingers through his hair for a second, before turning and actually heading inside.

With a content sigh, she leans her back against the front door, eyes falling shut as her mind wandered to the events of the night. It was ridiculous, how quick of a turn things went. And now, she was going to see Richie tomorrow, for a date. She couldn't believe it.

“Who was that boy?” A voice asked, making her perk up, and realize her mother had been waiting there at the door.

“Richie,” (y/n) replied. “He walked me home”

“Richie your friend?” Her mother replied. “You’re friends again?”

(y/n) grinned, nodding her head.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” She said. “G’night, mom-”

“You’re dating this boy, now?”

“Richie,” (y/n) reminded, pausing on the steps to look down at her. “And yes, I- I think I am”

Her mother shakes her head, and lets out a small scoff.

“Really, (y/n)? Of all your options-”

“Oh, fuck off,” (y/n) laughs, trying not to listen too closely to the harsh words. “Don’t go acting like you give a shit now”

She ascends the stairs, and forgets about her mother’s cruel idea of parenting. It won’t matter tomorrow, though. So she thinks about tomorrow. Because she’s gotten Richie back, and he’s all hers now.

___

taglist: @thegr8kush

xoxo ~ jordie

#it 2017 #it 2019 #it fanfiction #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier scenario #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier fanfiction #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader #bill hader

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fluffywings13 · 3 years

Text

Chance Meetings

Six year old Izuku watches the two other kids yell and push a purple haired boy around at the top of the jungle gym, and something boils inside him, dad always says that sometimes being a hero means doing the right thing, without hesitation, even if it seems everything else is stacked against you.

Gritting his teeth, he jumps down onto the slide, landing in a stumble, he runs across the playground, and pushes the purple haired boy behind him, throwing an arm out protectively. “Leave him alone! He didn’t do anything wrong!”

The two other boys scoff, kick rocks at them, and turn away, stomping across the playground to do whatever else bullies do when they’re separated from their victim.

Izuku waits until they’re far out of ear shot, and turn, looking at the other boy in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Huh….” His new companion seems shocked. “Y—Yeah..?”

He doesn’t believe him and points down the street with his thumb. “You’re bleeding, do you wanna come down to my place? It’s right down the street. My dad could help you.”

The purple haired boy rubs the back of his neck lightly. “You’re….Sure it’s okay?”

Izuku nods firmly. “Absolutely.”

“O—Okay.” The other boy nods. “I’ll come.”

“Cool, follow me.” The greenette turns and gestures for the other boy to follow. “My names Izuku, what’s your name?”

“H—Hitoshi…” Hitoshi spares him a shy glance. “Y—Your dad won’t mind?”

“Nope.” Izuku shakes his head. “My dad hates bullies and it’s not easy to make him hate anything.”

The purple haired six year old looks up at the large nice apartment building they approach, it’s so tall, and a man standing outside opens the door for them with a smile. “This is so cool!”

“It’s home.” Izuku presses the button for the elevator. “Me and dad live all the way at the top, dad likes being up high, he likes being in the sky.”

The elevator doors open with a ding, and Hitoshi follows Izuku inside, watching him push the very last button on the list. They ride up in companionable silence, it takes a couple minutes to go from the ground floor all the way to the top, and Hitoshi’s eyes widen at the apartment they step into, directly from the elevator, stumbling when Izuku pulls him forward.

“Dad!” He turns to the other boy when he calls out. “Are you home!”

“In here, nestling!” A voice calls from a room to the right.

“Come on, Hitoshi.” Izuku gestures for him to follow him as he steps forward. “Dad can help you.”

“Uh….okay.” The purple haired boy follows him, crossing his arms nervously, and looks around in slight awe at the large bedroom they step into. “It’s so big.”

“Yea,” the green haired boy nods. “It’s big, but it’s not bad. Dad?”

“In the bathroom.” They follow the sound of a man’s voice into the bathroom, Hitoshi pauses in his tracks at the large red wings on the man’s bare back, feathers darkened from being wet, giving away to the notion that the man just got out of the shower. “What’s up?” The man turns, and he swallows when gold eyes meet his, and the man frowns. “Who’s this, Zu?”

“This is Hitoshi.” Izuku grabs his hand and it helps ground him in his shock. “He’s my new friend, he was being bullied and got hurt.”

“I see—”

Hitoshi can’t hold it back anymore. “You’re Hawks!”

The blonde man, Hawks, smiles at him. “Sure am, kiddo, you can call me Keigo.” He gestures him forward. “Come on, let’s clean you up.” He steps forward shakily and raises his arms slightly when the hero curls his fingers under his arms and lifts him up to sit on the bathroom counter. The six year old watches the hero open the cupboard above the sink and pulls out a few things, disinfectant, cotton balls, bandages. “This might sting a little, but it’ll only be a minute.” Hitoshi nods, squeaking softly when the hero dabs at the gash on his cheek with a cotton ball of disinfectant, it only takes a minute, at the most, and the man secures the bandage over it. “There, good to go.”

Hitoshi smiles at him shyly. “Thanks, Keigo.”

“Hey, no problem.” Keigo lifts the boy off the counter and sets him down on his feet. “Bullies suck, they’re worse then villains, you ever see’em again, you tell’em you sic Hawks on them.”

The boy giggles softly and nods, stumbling slightly when Izuku catches his hand and tugs him forward. “Come on, Hito, I wanna show you my room!”

…

They explore Izuku’s collection and play for a while until they grow bored. “Hito,” he looks up at his new friend questioningly and Izuku grins. “Wanna play heroes and villains?”

He smiles slightly. “Sure…How do you play?”

“Come on,” Izuku jumps up from his spot on the floor, Hawks and Present Mic dolls completely forgotten. “Let’s go get my dad, he’ll play with us too!”

“Uh, okay.”

Hitoshi climbs to his feet and runs after the other boy when he darts out of the room. Keigo smiles at them when they appear in the kitchen, eating a banana, and looks between them inquisitively. “What’s up, lil birds?”

“Dad,” Izuku bounces slightly. “Will you play heroes and villains with us?”

“Yea, sure,” the hero tosses the banana peel in the waste basket. “Want me to be the hero or the supervillain?”

Hitoshi looks at his new friend questioningly, because he doesn’t know which one to choose, which one does someone decide Hawks to play, the hero or the villain, Izuku grins and leans in closer. “It’s a lot more fun to be the villain when you play with dad.”

He doesn’t really want to be the villain, but he does want to have fun, and if anyone would know which one is more fun to be when playing this game with Keigo, it would be Izuku, so he nods. “Okay.”

Izuku turns back. “Hero!”

“Okie dokie.” Hitoshi watches the man turn around and open the cupboard behind him, reaching in for something, and his eyes widen when he pulls out a package of Oreos and holds them out. “Here’s your stolen treasure, go hide it villains, you got two minutes before this hero comes searching.”

The greenette snatches the full package of Oreos up. “Come on, Hito!”

He grins slightly when the hero winks at him and turns away, not watching the two boys dart off to wherever they were going to hide their stolen treasure, and he chases after Izuku to catch up. The other boy leads him into a back closet he didn’t know was there, and crawls behind boxes with him, where there sits an open air vent duct built into the wall. “We’ll hide’em here.” Izuku sets the Oreos down in the duct. “Okay, my dad plays dirty when he’s the hero, our best bet at keeping the secret location of our treasure is to avoid him at all costs, so you have to be really sneaky.”

“How do we know he doesn’t know where we are already?” Hitoshi whispers softly. “What if he’s following us with his feathers?”

“Nope, he’s not.” Izuku shakes his head. “He sheds his feathers when we play heroes and villains so he can’t cheat, he puts them in his closet until we’re done playing, so we’re safe unless he catches us.”

“That’s so cool!” Hitoshi curls a hand around his mouth and giggles softly. “Oops, sorry.”

The green haired boy giggles. “It’s okay. So, no matter what tricks my dad pulls, don’t tell him where we hid our treasure, because if he can’t get the location out of us when we stop playing, we get the whole pack for ourselves.”

“Really!” This time the purplette is mindful not to shout. “That’s awesome!”

“I know!” Izuku cheers softly. “Oreos are the best cookies!”

“I think so too.” Hitoshi spares the package a glance. “Now what?”

“Now we go follow my dad around and see just how great of an actual hero he is.” Izuku giggles softly. “You know that dog from Up?”

The other boy nods slightly. “Uhuh?”

“Well, that’s my dad,” Izuku giggles softly. “Especially when he sees something shiny.”

Hitoshi giggles. “Really?”

“Uhuh,” The greenette nods. “He one time flew into a billboard because there was sparkling glitter on it.”

Hitoshi giggles again. “That’s so funny!”

Izuku giggles and nods. “It is! Auntie Rumi recorded it! I have the video saved on my iPod. I can show you when we’re done playing.” He crawls out from behind the boxes. “Come on, Hito, remember, don’t let my dad catch you, he plays dirty.”

Hitoshi crawls out after him. “Okay, Zu.”

…

Hitoshi was good at being sneaky, he was naturally really quite, like a cat, he loves cats, he wants a cat, but Ms. Matsuda won’t allow it, he doesn’t like Ms. Matsuda, anyway, he’s being really sneaky, peering around the empty living room as he creeps from cupboard under the sink to the bathroom.

And shrieks with laughter when he’s scooped up suddenly from behind. “Okay villain,” Keigo curls an arm around his waist and whispers in his ear. “I’ll only ask you once, where did you hide the cookies?”

“I’ll never tell!” He cries, kicking in an attempt to free himself, shrieking when he’s flipped over, dangling upside down in the hero’s grasp, his lavender t-shirt sliding down slightly. “Hey!”

“I can see this interrogation requires some measures to loosen your lips, villain.” The six year old squeals with laughter when fingers claw into his belly. “I’ll torture the information outta you, villain, I’m not above doing so.” Zu was right, Keigo does play dirty, and he’s even sneakier then he himself is, he didn’t even know he was behind him until he was picked up. “You ready to talk yet, villain, you know what you have to do to stop this.” The purple haired boy shrieks with laughter, struggling between deciding about pushing his shirt back down or trying to pull the hero’s fingers away from his belly, he settles on the latter. “Still not ready to talk yet, huh, that’s fine, we can change tactics.”

Hitoshi breaks after two raspberries are blown into his belly and screams the location of the cookies, he gets two more just because Keigo’s a dirty hero, and shrieks when he’s tossed over the man’s shoulder, watching his wings grow as he calls his feathers back, and they make their way to the far back closet.

“Hito! You got caught!”

He pushes himself up against the hero’s back, giggling, and nods at his new friend. “Keigo’s a mean hero!”

Izuku giggles and nods, shrieking when he’s scooped up off his feet by a few dozen feathers, they both hear the crackling of the package of Oreos and Hitoshi shrieks when the hero spins around quickly. “Come on villains, let’s go get some milk for our cookies.”

They got to have the whole pack of Oreos anyway.

#shinsou and hawks #kid shinsou #mha shinso hitoshi #mha shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou fluff #kid midoriya #kid deku #cuteness #parental hawks #deku and hawks #my hero academia hawks #pro hero hawks #mha hawks #mha takami keigo

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wondersofdreaming · 4 years

Text

Third time’s the charm

Characters: Henry Cavill x 3rd person female reader (the reader in this story has been described as someone with long brown hair, hazel eyes and not very tall)

Word count: 1.705

Warnings: Fluff. Insecurity. Doubt. Chasing. Jumping.

Author’s note: Thank you @radaofrivia for your guidance and your help <3

Go read her stories right here: Rada’s masterlist

Sentences in square brackets are Kal’s thoughts. Sentences in italics are Henry’s thoughts.

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

It was a lovely day. The sun was shining brightly in the clear blue sky. Not a cloud present. The birds were chirping in the trees, and people were chatting away around him.

His hulking size of a fluffball dog was trotting happily beside him. Kal’s long tongue was sticking out between his sharp fangs, panting and drooling all over the uneven pathway.

He watched as a couple walked past him. They were smiling, and the woman was laughing at a joke her boyfriend had just cracked. It made him long for a special someone in his life he could crack jokes to, a someone who would laugh at his sense of humour, someone with a genuine laugh.

Henry filled his nostrils with the fresh air. He felt the vibrations of children's laughter through the ground. His heart was yearning to hear the giggles of his own flesh and blood, and it clouded his already saddened mind.

He hadn’t noticed that Kal had been sniffing the ground. His ears perked with interest as his nose found a scent that made his mouth water. Kal galloped across the park without warning, making Henry lose his grasp on the leash.

[Something smells yummy!]

“Kal!” Henry yelled at the black and white dog, but it was too late. Kal was already out of sight, following his nose to whatever had caught his attention. Henry wandered around the park. His heart was beating so fast it felt as if it would jump out of his chest. A million scenarios ran through his mind: What if something happened to Kal? What if someone dog-napped Kal? What if Kal hurt someone?

Henry searched all over the park but to no avail until he heard a loud scream coming from behind a group of trees. Shit!

The run towards where the scream came from felt as if it took forever. Time was standing still as he neared the trees. He first noticed the bushy tail, then the rest of Kal’s body, standing atop a woman who was loving up all the licks Kal was giving her. She managed to push the large dog off her body, while her delicate hands were giving him scritches all over his fluffy fur coat.

“You’re such a good boy,” he heard her sweet silvery voice say, then a bark came from his wayward dog.

[Yes, Kal is a good booooy… oh yeah, right there. More scritches!]

Henry let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding in since Kal went missing. Thank god!

“Kal!” Henry yelled over the sound of giggles coming from the woman. He started walking towards them but stopped in his tracks like a deer in headlights when the woman looked up. Her hazel eyes shone with excitement, and the grin on her perfectly succulent lips made his heart skip a beat. Henry felt like he had been struck by lightning, suddenly unable to move as he watched the dark-haired angel stand. She dusted off the dirt from her jeans and walked towards him. She seemed unharmed even after having been hammered by Kal, who probably weighed more than she did.

“You must be this dog’s owner. He really scared me, when he suddenly jumped on my back,” she giggled a melodious sound.

Henry’s brain finally started working again, the gears turning behind his eyes as he was processing what she had just told him. Kal; his sweet mild-tempered fluffball, who wouldn’t hurt a fly; had jumped on this woman’s back, and yet she was still smiling and loving up the bear without being afraid. It didn’t seem she knew who he was, as he didn’t see the recognition sparkle in her eyes.

“I am so sorry that he jumped on your back, he normally doesn’t do that, I don’t know what came over him,” Henry knew he was babbling, he knew he needed to shut his mouth, but the words kept vomiting out between his lips.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t that scared. Besides, he is such a sweet dog, I don’t mind being jumbled,” she looked into his eyes, and his heart did a somersault as she smiled again.

“Be a good boy for your owner, Kal,” she told the bear, and then she was gone.

Henry was standing cemented to the place. He didn’t know what had just happened. Kal barked at him, his tongue dangling from between his lips; he was smiling.

“Well Kal, you sure do have great taste in women, but you should stick to the four-legged kind,” Henry reprimanded him softly. Kal wasn’t happy. There was a reason why he had gone rogue and run away from Henry. So, before Henry could pick up the leash, Kal darted through the bushes to find the mystery woman. Not again!

[But I didn’t get to know what smelled so good!]

Henry, having gotten out of his trance, followed his dog once again. Why was his dog so keen on pursuing that woman? It was starting to annoy him. Panic was beginning to make itself comfortable in his brain, what if the woman had something that would make Kal follow her on purpose? What if she was pretending not to know him, so she could steal his dog and ask for an insane ransom?

He rounded a corner just in time to see Kal jump on the brown-haired beauty, again.

“Oh, it’s you again, Kal,” she said with amusement hinting in her voice. Kal barked and went to sniff her jacket, burying his snout deep in her right pocket. He came back out with a bag of peanut butter cookies between his teeth.

[TREATS!]

“Kal! Stop! You pig, what are you doing?” Henry raised his voice sternly at his furry friend. He grabbed Kal’s collar and pulled him away from the lady, making Kal drop the bag of biscuits to the ground. Kal lunged forward, which made Henry think he was going to jump the woman again, so he moved between Kal and the lady, and gave his companion a hard stare, as to say not happening, pal.

“So that is what you were after all along,” she said and picked up the bag.

“I am so sorry, miss, are you alright?” Henry asked while jogging towards the two. She gave him an amused smile.

“I’m fine. He didn’t scare me as much this time. Apparently, he just wants some doggie biscuits. May I give him some? They’re homemade and don't contain anything that could harm a dog.”

“Oh, yes, of course, but he shouldn’t be rewarded for leaping on other people. I swear, he has been trained not to do that,” Henry was rambling again. He was spewing out nonsense while the gorgeous woman was telling Kal to sit before she rewarded him for listening. She even asked him to give her paw, which Kal did immediately, a rare thing as he only wants to listen when he’s in the mood, kind of like a cat. She is way too nice to want to abduct Kal.

“Good boy, Kal.”

[Miss with the treats is super nice. Hey human, can we take her home with us?]

“You said those were homemade, did you make them?” Henry asked.

“Oh, yes. I have a dog myself who is a picky eater. I’ve tried all kinds of doggie treats, but she would spit them out. I had no choice but to experiment on how to make dog biscuits,” the woman told him while she gestured for Kal to lie down, which he obeyed instantly.

“And does she like the homemade treats?”

“She gobbles them down like I didn’t feed her for a week. She’s becoming quite the diva.”

They talked a bit more about her dog, who was a rescue labradoodle, and about how it had changed her look on store-bought dog treats. It was healthier to make them yourselves, and people in her neighbourhood, who had dogs, had been asking if she would sell the biscuits to them. She had then started her own one-man company, making dog treats, and her most popular item was the peanut butter cookies. They were shaped like the femur bone, which was the most popular form for dog treats.

“I’m Henry by the way, may I ask what your name is?” Henry asked her carefully. She smiled brightly at him, and it chased all the dark thoughts he had earlier away from his mind. She told him her name, which was elegant and so fitting a person like her. He had been expecting the penny to drop when he mentioned his name, but she was oblivious as to who he was, which in turn made his heart leap with joy inside behind his chest.

She looked at her wristwatch and gasped.

[Oh boy…]

“Crap, I have to pick up my dog soon. It was nice talking to you, and please don’t let this beautiful boy out of your sight,” a chuckled left her lips as she walked away once again.

Kal licked his mouth for the crumbs that might have gotten stuck on the fur around his snout. He then looked up at Henry with an annoyed look.

“What?” Henry asked with a sigh. Kal tilted his head to the right. “I can’t just jump on her like you do and then ask for her phone number, that would just scare her away.”

Kal looked towards the woman, who was getting further and further away from them. He then let out a bark, and with a waggle of his puffy tail, he demanded that Henry make a choice before it was too late.

[You’re blowing it, human!]

Henry sighed and crouched down.

“What should I do?” he asked the bear-like dog. Kal tilted his head to the side, looking at Henry as if he was crazy.

[Marry her! I want more treats!]

“You like her as well, don’t you, bear?”

Kal stood and bumped his head to Henry’s back, as to tell him to start moving, which made the human mountain chuckle, getting the hint from his dog. He released Kal from the leash and whispered: “Go get her.”

Kal licked his master’s face and darted towards the woman with the gorgeous brown curls.

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Fanfiction #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x female reader #Henry x reader #Henry x female reader #Third time's the charm #My story #Short story

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raineydays411 · 4 years

Text

Steve Harrington sucks.

Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

A/N: Yay! My first request done!🎉✨ Please don’t hesitate to request anything, and I hope you enjoy. Sorry it tooks so long, I just started school.

Summary: (Y/n) Henderson has been through some shit in her 17 years. Her father leaving, an overprotective mother, bullies, interdimensional monsters, government conspiracies, etc. Needless to say her life was constantly changing. There was one thing that will always remain the same though. And that was the hatred she has for the one and only Steve Harrington.

Request from anon.

Masterlist

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

You and Steve have never seen eye to eye. You haven’t for a very long time. You two used to be best friends, but that was a long time ago. Before high school and cliques mattered, and before Steve was known as “King Steve.” But once you two entered freshman year, Steves popularity rose and you were left behind.

Even though you and Steve no longer associated with each other, that didn’t stop you two from fighting any chance you got.

You two argued about everything. If you said the sky is blue, Steve would argue that its actually purple. No kidding, he actually made the argument that the sky was purple. Needless to say, you two hated each other.

“Steve, I swear if you don’t move your feet I’ll--”

“You’ll what Y/n, please tell me what you’ll do?

“ I’ll take your feet and shove it up you---”

“Can you guys not...”

It was always like this. Ever since Steve started dating Nancy it was like he was always there. And because Nancy was your best friend, you got reacquainted with the King of Hawkins High.

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

After everything Will with through with the Upside down and El, you were relieved that it was over. You could go back to your normal life of being a big sister and being top of the class. But then your brother started acting weird.

It started on Halloween, he came home and was holding his ghost trap thing from Ghostbusters weirdly. You thought it was a rat or something at first but something seemed off.

Then Mews went missing. Mews was given to you on your thirteenth birthday, so loosing her was devastating to you. You still had faith that she just ran out and was lost somewhere in the woods. You spent hours looking for her but no dice so far. You were in your room when your mom called you from the kitchen.

“Yeah?!” you shouted, finishing up some missing flyers for Mews.

“Can you go find Dusty for me? It’s getting dark outside.” After the incident with Will and Barb, the parents became a lot more wary when it came to being out after dark.

Rolling your eyes, you get up from your small desk and walk out to the kitchen where your mom is. As you get closer, you smell the weird concoction your mother is making on the stove. Your mom wasn’t the best cook.

“Did he mention where he was going?” you ask, scrunching up your face at the sight of the...stew??

“He mentioned something about Lucas and a code red?? Whatever that means.”

“Code red?” you ask, you weren’t too nervous because code red could mean anything. and Dustin tends to be over dramatic. But still, a small voice in the back of your head is warning you.

“I’m not too sure dear. Would you like to have a taste before you leave?” aaand that was your cue to leave. You start rushing to the door

“Sorry mom! I better go find Dustin before it gets to late.”

You start to make your way down the road when a flash of red catches your eye, you walk towards it . You realize its just some pieces of meat. Then you see what looks like a trail. Leading from your basement to the woods. A bad feeling settles in your stomach, and before you go in the woods, you get a hockey stick that you wrapped with barb wire a few months ago just incase.

Then you follow the trail of meat into the woods.

You follow the trail till it leads you to the junkyard. By the time you got there it was already dark and surprisingly foggy.

“Dustin?!!” You shout, seeing the pile of meat stopping. You step over it as you walk around shouting for your brother.

“Hello!!? Dustin this isn’t funny, moms worried about you.”

And that's when you heard it. A low growling sound. Right behind you.

“Y/N!! WATCH OUT”

You spin around to see what looked like a demogorgon, but on all fours like a dog. And it was slowly walking towards you. Growling as it stepped closer and closer. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you tighten your grip on the hockey stick. Adrenaline rushing through your body. Your senses heightened as you focused on the creature in front of you. You lowered your body into a crouch to prepare for an attack. You slowly backed away slowly as it stalked toward you. You heard what sounded like Lucas or Dustin tell you to run but you knew if you turned around, that thing would pounce on you and you’d be dead. And if you died, what would happen to your brother? To Lucas?

Then the demodog lunged at you. The muscles in its leg tightened as it jumped toward you. You held your breath as you swung the stick with all your might, hitting the monster in mid air. It yelped as its body was flung sideways. It layed there for a moment them leaped up on all fours again, You backed away but never took your eyes off it.

“Holy shit what is she doing” a girl??

“YEAH THATS MY SISTER!” Dustin

“Y/N THREE O’CLOCK! THREE O’CLOCK!” shit.

You can see another figure moving in your peripheral vison. Another one. You position your body so your able to see both dogs at the same time, but then you hear chirping and growling from all ends. You were being surrounded.

“STEVE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Then, Steve Harrington runs out of a broke down bus, bat in hand as he settles up behind you.

“What the hell are you doing here Harrington?”

“Saving your ass Henderson, what does it look like?”

“I had this under control”

“Oh yeah, being surrounded definitely screams under control.”

You aren’t given a chance to respond as another demodog leaps at you and Steve, forcing you to swing out and hit it again straight in the head. Another dog leaps at Steve, and he manages to hit it with the bat.

“We’re going to die if we stay here” you say assessing the situation.

“ No shit sherlock.”

“Shut up and listen” You shout. “you run back to the bus. You need to protect the kids. I’m going to distract these fuckers. When I say the word, you open the bus door and let me in. These things hunt in packs, so they won’t chase both of us if I run first.”

“Henderson thats--” You don’t hear the rest as you dash from the spot. As predicted the dogs chase you and don’t pay no mind to Steve. You can see Steve reluctantly run back to the bus as you take a lap around the junkyard. You have to hit some more dogs but you manage to get back where you were.

Then you were tackled. Dropping your stick you scream in pain as the demodog digs it claws in your shoulder. You struggled to get your stick as the other dogs get closer and the one on top of you is lowering its flower mouth to your throat.

“Y/N” you hear your brother scream desperately. You find the strength to kick the dog off of you and launch yourself off the ground. You scoop up the hockey stick and swat the other dog that was in your way as you sprint towards the bus.

“NOW STEVE LET ME IN” You screech as you near the bus. The doors slide open as hands wrap around your arms and pull you in.

You lay there for a few seconds breathless. Muscles burning and ears ringing. You ignore the kids talking over each other and Dutsin fretting over you. You just breath, feeling a bit safer than you did outside. Then something rams into the side of the bus. The kids start screaming and Steve shouts something. You gather your strength once more and stand up, your body screaming at you. You see those demon dogs are trying to get in through the roof. You watch Steve start fighting them as you push the kids behind you. You step forward to help when suddenly they stop. Then they all run away and its quiet. After a few moments you feel weak and slump to the floor.

“Woah woah, Henderson” Steve surges forward and grabs you by the shoulders, you hiss in pain as he grabs the wound, “Shit, this is bad”

“Bad? What do you mean bad? How bad??” Dustin questions, his eyes watering at the thought of loosing his sister.

“I’m fine Dusty.” You say standing up. “ It probably just needs a cleaning and some stitches that all.”

‘You look like you should be an extra in a WW2 documentary.” Steve deadpans. “You should go home.”

You roll your eyes “ Oh like YOU would know what that would look like, you don’t even show up to history class.”

“ That's not the point Henderson, your arm is about to fall off.”

“I am not leaving these kids here defenseless.” you say crossing your arms, but wince as you do.

“First of all they have me, and second of all, you can’t even move your arm! You’d be in the way.”

“ I’m sorry but who was the one that distracted those things? Who came up with that plan to get you back in the bus??” you say, annoyed at the accusation of being useless.

“she has a point” muttered Lucas, earning him a smack in the arm by Max and a glare from Steve.

“Listen Harrington” You say poking him in the chest. “ I’m fine, im not going anywhere, and I can kick your ass even with my arm fucked up. Now we’re going to get out of this FUCKING bus and figure out what the fuck is going on. AM I CLEAR?”

A shocked silence settles in the bus. Lucas and Dustin chuckled and Max smirked in admiration. Steve glared at you, simply saying “Crystal” and turned around marching off the bus. You roll your eyes as Lucas and Max get off as well, leaving only you and your brother.

“That was really badass. The way you fought those demodogs back there.” Dustin said looking up at you.

You smile and ruffle his hair.

“ I wasn’t going to let them get my Dusty Bun” You say in a baby tone pulling him in for a hug. He groans at the name but hugs you back.

“HENDERSONS MOVE YOUR ASSES” Steve shouts. You roll your eyes and nudge Dustin towards the door.

“Come on, before King Steve blows a gasket”

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

You find out that Dart killed Mews and are absolutely devastated. Dustin felt guilty as he was basically the reason why your beloved cat died.

“It’s fine Dustin, now I have even more of a reason to kick their doggy ass.”

You walk ahead of the group seething in anger and fear. Your arm was still sluggishly bleeding and throbbing in pain.

“You really should do something about that shoulder” Steve said as he walks up next to you.

“Sure, let me just stop at the hospital while my brother and his friends chase flesh eating dogs from another dimension.” you reply in an sarcastic tone.

“I’m just trying to help.” Steve says in a soft tione

You roll your eyes and mutter a fine. You then rip a strip of fabric from the bottom of your shirt and wrap it around your shoulder.

‘There are you happy now?”you ask

Steve is stunned, he never realized how...tough you are.In fact this whole experience has made him realize how smart and resilient you’ve become. Far different from the shy quiet girl you used to be when the two of you were friends. He never wanted to stop being your friend, in fact he even harbored a little crush on you but he just got caught up in the popularity and attention. Then he got with Nancy and started seeing you constantly again, only now you hated him. It hurt him in ways he didn’t understand. And while he’ll always love Nancy, he’s starting to realize that maybe he’s starting to fall in love with you too.

You look at him weird, as he just stared at you with this weird look on his face. You walked past him as the entrance to the lab becomes clear.

“Hey guys” You shout. “We’re here.”

Then you hear it. Bone chilling roars fill the air. The lights are out inside the lab and you can hear the screams of the people inside. and then rustling comes from the woods. You push the kids behind you and Steve as you tighten the grip on your weapons.

“Steve?” “Y/n?’

“Nancy?’” “Jonathan?”

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

After finding out El was actually alive and Will’s interrogation, you officially have seen it all. You, Steve, and the rest of the kids stayed in the Byers house while the “A team” went back to the lab. You finally were cleaning your shoulder when you heard the rumble of an engine.

Great Billy Hargrove.

“It’s my brother! If he catches me here he’ll kill me” Max says, he tone laced in fear. You and Steve look at each other, and then Steve walks out to deal with Billy.

“Quick hide and don’t let him see you” you say moving toward the door. You open it in time to see Billy knock Steve down and kick him. You flinch and are just glad that it wasn’t you.

“Oh” Billy coos, “ Are you gonna let me in Princess or am I gonna have to move you?”

“Moving me sounds fun, how about we try that” you flirt back, hey anything to get him to calm down.

He chuckles. “Nice try toots but I got a bone to pick with my step sister.” And with that she shoves you out of the way. You realize that you can’t fight Billy off alone, so you run to help Steve.

“Come on Harrington, up you go” You try and help him up. You hear the kids shouting and some stuff smashing. “Come on Steve, he’s on there with the kids.” You say urgently.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Steve says, finally getting up. You and Steve rush into the house to see Billy holding Lucas up against a shelf. Steve then rushes to the two, as you go to the kids making sure they’re behind you.

“YOU’RE DEAD SINCLAIR, SO DEAD”

“No, you are” and with that Steve punches Billy in the face. You pull Lucas away, checking him over to make sure he’s alright. The kids are cheering Steve on as he beats Billy.

“KICK HIS ASS STEVE”

Then the tables turn. Billy smashes a plate over Steves head, knocking him down and punching him in the face. They get into the living room and Billy isn’t stopping. He’s punching Steve in the face continuously.

“STOP YOU’RE GONNA KILL HIM” Dustin screams

“BILLY NO”

You rush forward and try to pull him off. “Billy thats enough, he’s already down!” he just pushes you to the ground and resumes his beating. You get up, desperate to help Steve.

“Y/n!” You hear Max yell. You look at her and she hands you something.

Will’s morphine.

Without a second thought you ripped the cap off the needle and injected the drug in Billy’s neck. He flinched and stood up, giving poor Steve a break from his brutal beating.

“youbitchwhatdidyoudo” He slurred as he pulled the needle from his neck. He then fell on his back, half unconscious. Max, surprising you all, took Steves bat and yelled.

“From now on you leave me and my friends alone, you understand?!”

“Screw you.”

She brought down the bat between his legs. Your eyes widened as she slammed the nail covered bat on the floor between them.

“SAY YOU UNDERSTAND. SAY IT! SAY IT!”

“I understand” Billy finally whispered as the drugs took over. After watching that you ran over to Steve. You checked his pulse just to make sure he was alright.

“Alright Harrington, get up” You said. “Come on Steve.”

“Y/n, we don’t have time.” Mike said. “We have to help El.”

“How are you even going to the tunnels Mike? It’s too far to walk.” You say as you put Steve's head on your lap.

Max then walks up to Billy and pulls his keys out of his jacket. “Y/n can drive us.” she says. Then the whole party laughs. “What? What's so funny?”

“Y/n can’t drive us” Dustin said laughing. You glare at him from your spot.

“Why not?” Max asks.

“Because” Mike replies, “ She failed like three of her drivings tests”

“Yeah, unless you want to hit every mail box on the way and get whiplash, y/n is out” Lucas chimed in.

“Hey! I was not that bad” you yelled incredulously. “ Besides what would we do with Steve?”

“Leave him here?” Mike said

“With Billy?” You asked

“Yeah we could just tie Billy up or something”

“We are not leaving Steve” Dustin said. “He’ll be chill when he wakes up, I promise.”

“We still can’t go” you say. The group groans

“Why not” Mike says

“Because, I can’t drive you.” You reply. Then Max ‘s face brightens

“I can drive.” She says

Suddenly, you’re in the backseat of Billy's stolen car, Steve sprawled across yours, Mikes, and Dustin's lap as Max drives erratically to the field.

And then Steve wakes up.

“y/n??” He mutters looking at Mike, Mike gives him the side eye as Dustin starts talking.

“Hey buddy” Dustin says “ He kicked your ass but you put up a good fight”

“Dustin!” you shout

“What?”

‘Oh god” Steve says realizing what was happening “ Oh my god stop the car!!”

“Steve I promised them you’d be cool if we brought you”

“oh god

“Make a left here” “you’re okay”

“Steve relax she’s driven before”

“yeah in a parking lot””That counts!”

“Stop yelling!”

“Stop the car, stop the car” Max takes a sharp turn

“WOAHH” “STOPTHE CAR”

“Steve calm down” “I told you we should have left him!’“

“AHH SLOW DOWN” “CALM DOWN”

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP! I’M TRYING TO FOCUS”

Max hits the breaks as she makes to to the field. You all stumble out of the car and head to the trunk, getting ready to head into the tunnels. As you’re putting on your mask and goggles Steve stumbles to the back of the car yelling,

“HELLO! Do you guys hear me, we are not going down there!”

“Y/n how could you let them talk you into his” “ARE YOU DEAF? HELLO?

“WE ARE NOT---”

“STEVE!” Dustin shouted, “The fact of the matter is that a party member needs our assistance. We can’t just abandon her.”

“...fine” Steve says, and he puts on the bandana and goggles. You walk up to him and hand him his bat. “ Wow Harrington, you’ve never looked better”

“Ha ha, get in the hole”

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

After struggling to get into the hole, you finally made it into the tunnels. It was dark and damp in there. Cold as you and the party walked further and further into what could be your doom. Specks of...something floated in the air and the walls were covered in what looked like vines. Steve was at the from of the line while you were at the end.Making sure both ends were covered and there wasn’t any chance at a sneak attack.

You stood at the back with Dustin as he kneeled down to tie his shoe and then a flurry of that white shit sprayed in his face. He started freaking out immediatly, screming and spitting

“SHIIT! ITS IN MY MOUTH!”

Steve ran over to him and started asking whats wrong. Seeing Steve so worried about your brother warmed your heart, especially because it’s been so long that Dustin had a male figure who cared about him in his life. Now that you think about it, Steve has been really protective over Dustin these past few days, in fact he--

“Hey Y/n, are you okay” Steve says, interrupting your thought.

You look at him and nod, “We should keep going”

He nods and take his place back in the front. The group only had to walk a few more steps till they reached the hub,

“Let’s torch it” Steve said as he stepped forward. The kids spread out, pouring gasoline on every inch of the cavern. After you were done, Steve pulled out his lighter and flicked it on.

“You ready?” He said. You all nodded and prepared to run for your life. Steve threw the lighter and the whole hub was lit. The everyone ran. Mike got caught as a vine wrapped around his leg. Steve struggled to it get off when you came around.

“Stand back!” you yelled and swung you hockey stick down on the vine a couple times. This cut it in half as you heard it..squeal?? You then helped Mike up and urged him to start running. You were almost back to the hole when you were stopped.

A demodog stood in the way of your freedom. Hunched low and growling as it wait for you to make your move. Thats when Dustin spoke up.

“Dart” “Shh Dustin get behind me” You shushed him, trying to pull him away from the creature but with no luck. He slowly walked toward iy.

“Dustin what are you doing?””Get away from it” the rest of the group whispered as he pulled a candy bar from his pocket.

“yumm nougat” He said, breaking the candy bar into pieces and fed them to the demon dog. ‘There you go buddy, eat up” He then waved to you.

“hurry up go” He said still crouched down. Carefully, each member of the party passed by. Creeping passed the demodog who paid no attention.

“Bye buddy” Dustin whispered as you and Steve pulled him away.

You finally got to the hole. You and Steve helped each of the kids up the rope. Rushing as you heard the rest of the demodogs running to find you. You finally got Dustin up the rope when you saw them. The pack of demodogs running full speed toward you and Steve. There was no time for either of you to get up the rope. Steve pulled you into his chest as the pack drew nearer. You tensed up, waiting to get torn apart by these creatures.

“Y/N! STEVE” Dustin cried, being held back by Mike and Lucas.

The closer they got the harder it was for you to breath. You closed your eyes and dug your face into Steves chest.

They ran past you. The demodogs run right passed you and Steve as if you weren’t there. You feel them run past your legs, bumping into you as they are called somewhere else.

You sigh in relief . You look around the cavern, realizing you’re not dead. Steve laughs a breathless laugh as you smile, the threat of death gone. You realize that you’re still pressed up against him, and look up. Staring into the brown eyes of the one and only Steve Harrington. His goggles pulled up against his forehead and his bandana around his neck.

You don’t know if the adrenaline or you not giving a fuck, but you fling off your safety glasses, pull down your bandana ans surge up.

Capturing Steve’s lips in a kiss.

He makes a little ‘oomph” sound in surprise as he realizes what's happening. But then he relaxes and kisses you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your hands go into his hair as you wrap your arms around his neck, prompting him to lean closer. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you begin to let it in when--

“OH GOD, REALLY?”

Dustin. “GUYS THEY'RE MAKING OUT’”

“Ewww, come on do you really gotta do that here” Lucas complains.

“Yeah! we don’t wanna see that” Mike says, frowning in disgust.

“Come on’ Max says, pulling Dustin and Lucas by the collar of their shirts. Mike following behind them.

You pull away from Steve, giggling as you see the awe struck face he's making.

“Come on King Steve” You say, starting to crawl up the rope. “Before Max starts joy riding and leaves us here. He shakes his head as he watches you get to the top and starts climbing.

“Hold your horses Henderson, I’m coming.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #reader insert #stranger things x reader #fanfic #steve headcanon #netflix #enemies to friends to lovers #adventure #d&d campaign

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whump-tr0pes · 3 years

Text

Honor Bound 6 - 9

This is a series. Start here. Continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Content warning: post-rescue, referenced starvation, scars, referenced attempted murder, noncon body mod, referenced nonsexual noncon nudity, PTSD, referenced noncon (that didn’t happen), self-blame, flashbacks, hallucinations, unsure of reality

For those of you who pointed out I forgot about Zelda in the last chapter with Vera... thank you!!

There was a sense of warmth to the light in the bathroom. Gavin could almost feel it on his skin like the brush of a breath, like the sun on his face. It was nothing like the cold light in the basement. Nothing. Even as his head felt both too heavy and too light at the same time, even as his stomach adjusted to the feeling of being full, he felt the light pressing into his eyes and felt real.

He felt safe.

He could still taste what he’d eaten for dinner, savory and sweet and sour, peanut sauce and chicken and noodles swirling together in what may have been the best thing he’d ever tasted. He’d only been able to finish half before he’d sat back, feeling almost too full to move. But Gray said that might happen. Gray said it might take some time for his stomach to get used to eating enough.

He met his own eyes in the mirror. There were dark circles marking the skin beneath them, and the shadow of a bruise on his left cheek where Schiester had struck him as he dragged him to the gallows. His lip was split at the corner of his mouth. He pressed his tongue to the spot and winced at the burst of pain and the coppery taste. The scars on his face were carved deep, now, puckering the skin around them on the bridge of his nose, across his left cheek, and from the corner of his left eye to the hairline at his temple. The lines were reddish, almost purple, like they had been when they were fresh. It had taken three surgeries with the best surgeons in his parents’ region to make the skin lay flat, before. His face would look like this forever now. He was marked like this forever.

His gaze dropped to his neck, to the ring of worn, weeping skin where the collar had rested. There were spots where the skin had been rubbed raw from the constant pressure, from Schiester dragging him into place and holding him down while he hurt him. Gavin bit down hard on his lip as he tried to look away from the marks there. As he did, his fingers brushed the scars on his right forearm.

Stormbeck.

He shivered.

“You ready?” Vera croaked behind him. He jumped.

“Y-yeah,” he murmured, turning to look at her. She was staring off to the side, her eyes unfocused – as if she couldn’t make herself look right at him. His throat tightened, and he raised one hand to run through his hair. It still smelled like the family’s shampoo. He let the scent wash over him, calming the rapid thrum of his heart. “Yeah, Vera.”

“Good,” she rasped. She stepped forward and plugged the sink, then grabbed the electric trimmer from the counter. “Um. Are you good to, um…” She blinked, and her throat bobbed. “You good if…”

“I can bend over the sink,” Gavin said softly. “That’s… th-that’s fine.”

Vera raised her eyes to his for the first time since…

She’s not a monster. She’s not going to hurt me.

“O-okay,” she whispered, nodding jerkily. “Good.”

“Vera,” Gavin murmured, and reached out to take her wrist. Her gaze flicked down to the scars on his forearm. She shivered and looked away. “I’m not… Whatever it is you’re thinking right now, I… I didn’t have to… He never…” Gavin blew out a shaking breath.

Schiester never bent me over anything. Even though I—

Gavin winced at the thought that followed: even though I deserved it.

But he did. Every moment of what happened was recompense, come too late to save any of the twenty-three lives he’d ended before he ever met Isaac.

Vera chewed the inside of her cheek and nodded again. “M’kay,” she murmured, her gaze faraway. “Good.”

She reached for a spacer and slid it onto the blade. Her hands were shaking. Gavin closed his eyes and leaned over the sink, bracing his elbows on the counter. He shivered at the cold ceramic against his forearms. Bent over like this, the collar of his shirt brushed against his face, and he caught Isaac’s scent with his next breath. The trimmer switched on.

“You still sure you’re okay with this?” Vera said, her voice oddly distant. “I mean…”

“Yeah,” Gavin murmured against the counter. “I don’t… I don’t want to look like… him.”

There was a long silence. The only sound in the bathroom was the sound of the trimmer, and the sound of Gavin’s breaths against the counter. Then, a cool hand settled on the back of his neck, and the spacer touched down a moment later.

Gavin jerked. There was an electric razor against the back of his head, his hands were tied behind him, he was naked and on his knees on the linoleum washroom in Schiester’s basement. One of Schiester’s men was holding the razor to his head – “he used to cut hair, in his previous life,” Schiester would say, “back before your family destroyed everything good about the world” – and every now and then Alvarado would look at the picture Schiester was holding up for reference, a picture that Schiester would force Gavin to look at while whispering in his ear, “that’s your father, that’s the man who destroyed my life, that’s the man you are, and you’re going to die when I’m finished with you, you’re going to die, you’re going to die, Stormbeck—”

“Gavin?”

Vera’s voice.

Gavin sobbed weakly, trembling, his knees pressing against the tiles of the bathroom. His wrists burned like they were tied. He shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself, blinking tears out of his eyes. Vera’s gentle hands settled on either side of his face and eased his head up so she could look at him.

“Gavin,” she said again. “Gavin Uriah. You’re okay.”

Gavin’s heart pounded against his ribs and his lungs burned with every inhale. He reached out and grabbed at her wrists. She released him but his grip tightened, and she hesitantly cupped his face again. Gavin’s gaze darted around the small bathroom as he gasped.

“V-Vera…”

“Do you need me to get Isaac?” she said evenly.

Yes.

No.

Gavin wet his lips and forced himself to take a breath. “N-no,” he wheezed. “I don’t…” He swallowed hard. His neck felt so strange without the collar. “I d-don’t want him… seeing this. Please, Vera, don’t… I c-can’t hurt him, he… he hurts when, um, wh-when I hurt.”

Vera sat back on her heels and brushed Gavin’s tears away with her thumbs. “Yeah,” she croaked. “He does.”

“I…” Gavin dragged in another slow breath. The room wobbled around him and his eyes darted around the bathroom. No hose in the corner. No cold white light above him. No rope on his wrists, no knife at his throat, no men holding him down, no collar on his neck, no icy blue gaze on him.

Safe, like Isaac said. Safe.

Gavin cleared his throat. “Um…” He gripped the counter and dragged himself to his feet. His legs were shaking so hard he could barely stand. Vera staggered to her feet beside him. “M-makes me think of, um… of… him… cutting my hair, and…”

“Shit,” Vera breathed. “I mean, I can… I can try and do it with scissors, I’m shit at it, I mean… you’ve seen Sam’s hair when we’re on the run…” She huffed out a laugh. It sounded forced.

Gavin shook his head. “N-no,” he murmured. “I… I mean, that’s going to… feel similar, too. And I can’t…” He shook his head. “I can’t just… n-not have a haircut ever again, I…” He raised his gaze and met Vera’s eyes. “Please,” he whispered. She blurred with his tears. “Please. I don’t want to l-look like him.”

Vera’s mouth twisted. “Yeah,” she said heavily. “I don’t particularly want you to look like him, either.”

It felt so unreal, the half-hearted laugh that bubbled in Gavin’s chest. Everything felt real, and unreal, a dream and a memory and a thing that was actually happening, all at once. Shaking, he pushed out a breath and bent over the sink once again.

“Just talk to me,” he murmured. “Just… just t-talk to me. I want to hear you.”

“Yeah,” Vera said gently. “Can do, Uriah.”

Heat bloomed in Gavin’s chest at the name. The trimmer switched on again. He drew in a deep breath through his nose.

“I’m gonna talk about my puppy, because I’m fucking obsessed with her,” Vera said. Gavin could hear the smile in her voice. This time, when the spacer touched the back of his head, he latched onto her voice, let it pull him out of the memories that threatened to suck him in. He kept his eyes open, staring into the sink. The white porcelain reflected the warm light above him. His fingers gripped the counter like he would go tumbling off a cliff if he let go.

“So her name is Zelda,” Vera said, her voice sounding a little stronger. She drew the trimmer up the back of Gavin’s head. He shivered with the sound, the sensation. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to hold still.

“Y-yeah?” he croaked. His fingers ached from clutching the counter.

“Yeah,” she said. “She’s a German shepherd. I got her from someone east of the farmhouse in this place called Eden. This lady breeds shepherds as like… her job.” Another pass of the trimmer across the back of his head. “She breeds them specifically to avoid their hip problems, and for temperament. I told her I wanted a chill dog, but I’ll probably still train her to guard the place.”

“That sounds nice,” Gavin said. His throat still felt raw from screaming, even after—

He wasn’t entirely sure how long it had been since he’d been dragged from the basement.

If I’m not still there—

NO.

“Yeah,” Vera said with a chuckle. “She’s at home right now. I figured dinner might be a little much for you, and I didn’t want to add to that with a crazy puppy.”

“Dinner was good,” Gavin said weakly. “It was… it was good to see everyone.”

“Everyone was glad to see you, too,” Vera murmured. “I mean…”

“Edrissa doesn’t have to be happy to see me,” Gavin said. The trimmer paused in its path across the top of his head. Locks of his dark brown hair lay in the sink. “She doesn’t.”

Vera drew in a deep breath and let it out. The trimmer moved slowly across his hairline. He lifted his head to give Vera easier access. As he did, he felt the cold press of her teeth against his neck, the white-hot agony as she tore through his throat, the pulse of blood on his skin as he fed on his flesh. He shuddered and whined softly.

“I’m… I’m sorry she couldn’t make it tonight,” Vera said. “She—”

“It’s… not that,” Gavin gasped. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Ahh…” Sharp teeth flashed at him in the dark and his eyes flew open.

“Hey,” Vera said, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently pushing him up. “We can—”

“I just want to finish this,” Gavin rasped. He stayed bent over the sink. His breath riffled the short, single bits of hair on the porcelain. “Please, Vera.”

Please.

Everything he was feeling, felt like memories. They didn’t feel like hallucinations. There were no cold blue eyes watching him.

This was real. It had to be real, or else…

There was a long pause. Then, the gentle touch of the trimmer against his temple again. “Alright,” Vera murmured. “I’m almost done anyway.” She drew the trimmer across his forehead, down the other temple, around his ear. Back and forth across his head, sending showers of tiny bits of hair into the sink. Gavin scratched at an itch behind his ear. Vera did one more pass with the trimmer and then shut it off. Gavin looked into the sink, breathing slowly.

“Gavin?” Vera murmured. “You… you still with me?”

“Yeah,” Gavin murmured. “I’m… I’m here.” He half-stood, until Vera placed a hand on his shoulder again.

“Hang on,” she murmured. She gathered the clumps of Gavin’s hair from the sink and pitched them in the trash can. “Just a second. You don’t want bits of hair all over you, believe me.”

“I know,” Gavin mumbled. He remembered all too well the incessant itching after the first haircut, how Schiester had laughed – and how Schiester had decided that from now on he’d have Gavin’s hair cut in the room where he was washed, naked and freezing and ready for the hose when he was done. Gavin shivered as Vera turned on the tap and guided him closer to the sink until his head was level with the stream of water.

“Just real quick,” Vera murmured. “Just to get all the hair off.” She poured a handful of water over the back of Gavin’s head and gently scrubbed. “Yeah, there was still quite a bit left.”

Gavin forced himself to stop gripping the counter. He reached up, too, and scrubbed his head under the tap. He flinched when a stream of water rolled from his forehead and down his nose.

“I think that’s probably good,” Vera said, and shut the tap off. She gently eased him up. “Here…” As he stood upright, she wrapped his head in a towel and scrubbed at his short, wet hair. She pulled the towel away and dropped it to the floor.

Gavin felt a wrenching sensation in his chest as he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked so… young. He looked years younger than when he’d been taken, even with the bags under his eyes, with the sallow tone of his skin. He reached up and ran his fingers through the short, soft hair. His gaze wandered over himself and he took a deep breath.

“I… d-don’t look like him anymore,” he murmured. His eyes smarted.

“Nope,” Vera said, popping, the p. She shivered and rubbed his shoulder. “No. You don’t.” Her lips quirked a bitter smile. “Now I can look at you. Thank god for that.”

Gavin nodded absentmindedly as he ran his hand through his hair, short enough to almost be fuzz. The scar on his forearm caught his eye and he dropped his arm. He shifted his eyes down and swallowed hard.

“Ready to go join the others?” Vera said gently. “I know they’ll want to see the new haircut, too.” This time, when she smiled, it was easier, brighter. Her shoulders weren’t so tense and pulled up to her ears. Her hands weren’t shaking as much.

Gavin chewed his lip and sank down, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. “Not, um…” He cleared his throat. His skin ached for Isaac’s touch, and the thought of seeing Gray and Sam made his eyes brim with tears, but… he just needed a moment.

He needed to look at himself and see someone who wasn’t his father. He raised his gaze to the mirror again. He could only see his face; the rest of his body was cut off by the bottom of the mirror. His throat tightened.

“Okay,” Vera murmured. “Well… okay.” She turned towards the doorway, then paused, turning back. “You… you want the door open, or closed?”

“Open is fine,” Gavin murmured, his hand drifting up to feel the divots of the scars on his face. The scars Schiester had torn open again – after Isaac put them there, more than a year ago now.

Vera nodded once. “Okay. Come join us when you’re ready. We’re all…” Her eyes swam with tears. She pressed her hand to her chest as she swallowed hard once, twice. “We’re all really happy to see you.” Her voice was ragged.

Gavin wrapped his arms around his chest and nodded. “Th-thanks, Vera.”

Vera chewed her lip, then turned to go. She went around the corner to the living room at the front of the house, where Gavin could hear quiet conversation, the occasional burst of tight, tense laughter.

Gavin slumped forward and pressed his face into his hands. His eyes burned with tears that would not fall. He scratched at the needle marks on the inside of his elbow, his other hand pressing into his eyes, smearing his tears across his face. It felt real.

It all felt real.

Gavin drew in a deep breath and raised his head. Standing in the doorway to the bathroom was a figure – something that looked just like Edrissa.

Slowly, he sat up straight, understanding crashing bright and powerful through his blood. Her clear, ice-blue eyes bored into him, her mouth twisted in hate. Her pale blond hair was pulled back away from her ghostly-white face. His gaze flicked to the knife held tight in her hand.

He couldn’t catch the sob before it made its way out of his chest. The tears finally fell, streaming down his cheeks like blood.

I knew it. I knew it.

Gavin reached up to pull at his hair, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. The short strands slipped through his fingers. Dread slid into his heart, dull and slippery. Right on its heels was despair. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, never taking his eyes off the specter in the doorway that peered at him with cold blue eyes.

“H-hey, Schiester,” he croaked. “You… you really had me going on this one.” This time, he couldn’t muffle his sob as the specter stepped fully into the bathroom and closed the door behind it.

Continued here

@womping-grounds, @free-2bmee, @quirkykayleetam, @walkingchemicalfire, @inpainandsuffering, @redwingedwhump, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog , @whatwhumpcomments, @cursedscribbles, @whumpywhumper, @stxck-fxck, @omega-em-z-02, @whumps-the-word, @justwhumpitwhumpitgood, @justplainwhump, @finder-of-rings, @inky-whump, @thatsthewhump, @orchidscript, @inkyinsanity, @this-mightaswell-happen, @newandfiguringitout, @whumpkitty, @pretty-face-breaker, @cinnamonflavoredhugs, @pebbledriscoll, @im-just-here-for-the-whump, @endless-whump, @grizzlie70, @oops-its-whump, @kixngiggles, @1phoenixfeather, @butwhatifyouwrite, @carnagecardinal

#honor bound 6 #whump #recovery #starvation #scars tw #noncon body mod tw #past torture #noncon nudity tw #PTSD tw #noncon mention tw #self-blame tw #flashbacks tw #hallucinations #Gavin Uriah lives #Zelda the puppy #unreality tw #Edrissa: Problematic Sadist Extraordinaire

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

Miss Americana (Part 3)

Summary: The reader recovers from her second dose of Compound V and explores her stronger abilities with Dean. But the events of a fun night out might give Miss Americana and Soldier Boy an unlikely ally...

Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy!Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language, implied past torture/assault/killings

A/N: Enjoy this final part! This contains very minor spoilers for The Boys...

______

“Let me hide this stuff and I’ll be back in five, okay?” he asked. You nodded, Dean cupping your cheek before he was gone. It was barely a minute before he was returning, wearing sweats and a henley, a box under his arm. “Brownies from the bakery down the block.”

“I thought you liked pie.”

“I do. But you like brownies,” he said. “Something to look forward to after you spend the night shaking and sweating.”

“Lovely,” you said. He sat down beside you, urging you to lean into him. He tucked a blanket over your legs, watching the fire crackle. “I don’t think I mind if you’re a monster.”

“I can be pretty horrible.”

“You’re not horrible to me. You’ve never been that way. Even if your first instinct was to try to manipulate me you decided not to.”

“I hate most people. Think they’re worthless. Only care about myself.”

“So? I told you when we met...I’m the nice bad guy. I frankly don’t give a fuck anymore about being the pushover, the one that gets hurt. I just want to never be afraid again.”

“We never have to be afraid after tonight. Never,” he said. “You’ll be stronger than Homelander. Stronger than me. You’ll be safe.”

“For a bad guy, you were awfully nice giving me that dose with no strings attached.”

“There’s no strings,” he said. He stroked your arm when you shivered.

“Partners?” you asked. He leaned down, kissing you more gently than he ever had. No need behind it.

“I like partners,” he said. He was warm as you started to feel cool, Dean drawing shapes on your bare skin. “I had a little brother.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“He got sick right after I shipped out. Died the morning I got my first dose of Compound V. Only reason I volunteered for the shot. They said volunteers got special benefits. I wanted my brother to get to a good hospital and proper care and he was already dead by the time I got my shot. Then uh, then some of us started dying cause they didn’t know dosages or shit. I thought at least Sam’s gonna be okay. Then I spent three days wishing it would kill me so I could be with him instead of having been away for the last year of his life. But I didn’t die. I was the only one. Then they gave me more and...I guess I enjoyed becoming the super soldier over grieving. Then it goes to your head and changes you and...Sammy wouldn’t even recognize me now. At least I know I’m not going to the same place he wound up so he won’t have to see.”

“What was that like, being honest just now,” you asked, goosebumps covering your skin. You bundled into him more, Dean pulling up the blanket.

“I miss Sammy. I haven’t thought about him in years. I hope the kid’s happy wherever he is.”

“Maybe you’ll see him again someday,” you said. You shook, sweat forming all over you, muscles aching. You turned, unable to get comfortable. “How long does this last?”

“About six hours. Then I passed out and when I woke up it was over.”

“Awesome.” You gripped the blanket tight, Dean massaging your tense shoulders. “Tell me more about Sammy. Please.”

“He absolutely hated being called Samuel,” said Dean with a chuckle. “So naturally I did it all the time when we were kids.”

“Keep going,” you said, stomach churning briefly. “Distract me.”

“Let me tell you about the time we jumped off the shed roof.”

You were in sweaty clothes when you woke, lifting your head off Dean’s chest to find him passed out and snoring lightly. You sat up, shaking out your head. Something was different. You stood, deciding to test out flying first. You yelped when you nearly hit the ceiling, freezing and plopping straight down onto the couch and Dean.

He groaned awake, peeling open his eyes to find you hovering above him.

“Sweetheart I’m all for a little rough in the bedroom but not a full body tackle awake,” he said. You moved to the side, the motion second nature quickly but it required much less effort than before. You looked around, nothing in the room heavy enough to test your strength. Dean sat up, smirking as he looked at you. “Wanna arm wrestle?”

“Yes!” you said, Dean chuckling, groggily taking a seat at the counter. You stood on the other side of the island, Dean clasping your hand.

“Let’s go,” he said. You squeezed, Dean keeping up with you for a good few seconds before he started to go down fast. You heard the counter creek and then it was breaking, Dean backing up.

“Uh,” you said.

“Don’t worry about it. What do you expect when you got supes in the place? But you, you’re stronger. Stronger than me,” he said. “How do you feel?”

“Good. Very good. I um, I’d like to go fly. I think I might be faster.”

“Go for it. I’ll call someone to get this fixed. Just be careful. Try not to fly into any planes.”

“I’ll do my best, Soldier Boy.”

“Again?” asked Dean that night. You flew up high and smiled, Dean letting go of you, free falling a few seconds before you dove down and caught him. He giggled and you flew higher, Dean jumping off. You could heard him laughing and went down, something hitting you on the way. You threw a punch and arms released you, Dean holding on tight when you finally caught up with him. You both looked up and glared, a cape and pair of red eyes looking down. “You do realize the fall won’t kill me.”

“Probably not. But it’d be fun to try,” said Homelander. He floated down to your level, your arm tight around Dean’s waist. “Oh relax. I won’t touch your boy toy again.”

“I thought I said to stay the fuck away from us,” you growled.

“I just thought you’d like to know that Soldier Boy’s internal file will be released to the major news outlets tomorrow. Did you know-”

You grabbed his neck with your free hand, squeezing hard, Homelander pawing at your wrist.

“Any good reasons why I shouldn’t kill him?” you asked Dean.

“None come to mind,” said Dean, Homelander’s eyes red but fading as he choked for air.

“Feel free to speak up,” you said, gripping his neck even tighter.

“Stop,” said a voice, the three of you turning towards a small drone hovering close by. “Let him go.”

“He tried to kill Soldier Boy,” you said, holding on tight. You didn’t even see the drone shoot out the darts, the three of you hit. You instantly dropped Homelander, flying down to the roof of Vought as soon as you could, Dean out cold already and you quickly joining him.

You woke up on the couch in Edgar’s office, no sign of Dean or Homelander. Everything felt off still as you sat up, Mr. Edgar suddenly sitting on the edge of the coffee table.

“Are you alright?”

“No,” you groaned, stretching out. “What the hell was that?”

“If you’re going to act like children, we’ll treat you like them.”

“Dean and I were having fun, minding our own business-”

“Dean and you stole Compound V for your own benefit. I thought you were going to be more understanding of this arrangement.”

“I have to be stronger than Homelander and now I am. We didn’t hurt anybody to get it. You people let him do whatever the fuck he wanted so get off your high horse.”

“We understand. But you can’t kill him.”

“Why the fuck not.”

“He brings value in, even not as part of the Seven. Miss Americana and Soldier Boy can take over the leadership roles and Homelander is to be left alone.”

“He wants to kill-”

“I said to leave it be.” You stood, glaring down at him. “If an incident like this occurs again, there will be consequences. Dismissed.”

“Gonna throw us back in a hole? That’s kinda your thing isn’t it.”

“We know how to deal with problem children, even supe ones,” he said, standing up. “Back off before all three of you are worth more dead than alive. Don’t make me dismiss you again.”

You stormed out, slamming the door after you, not bothering to look back when you heard the wood splinter. You went straight to Dean’s apartment, Dean unscathed inside. But Homelander standing there, neither of them actively trying to kill the other, that was more than enough to forget your anger for the moment.

“You okay?” asked Dean, stepping over to grab your hand. You hummed, looking Homelander up and down. “You got the same message we did I’m guessing.”

“Behave or we’re all fucked. Yeah. Why the hell is he here?”

“We were spoken to at the same time. While he’s still a psycho and has some major fucked up issues, he has a different idea,” said Dean.

“Said the mass murderer.” Homelander rolled his eyes. “We all want to be in charge of the Seven. Be the best.”

“You shoved your hand down my pants,” you growled.

“True. But enemies can work together when they have a larger, common enemy, hm?”

“Edgar,” said Dean. “He wants to wipe out Edgar. Ashley is the next logical choice and we can control her. She wouldn’t do jack shit to us.”

“Remove Edgar from the equation and we can all get along. Maybe form a little, trio, best of the best. Still part of the Seven but top dogs. Vought would eat that shit up. Behind the scenes you two fuck or whatever it is you do. Publicly, we’re the strongest go America team there ever was. The soldier from a simpler time, the soldier who fought the terrorists and defend her country, and the everyday man who protects his fellow citizens. All walks of life, all the basis covered. Between the three of us our numbers are sky high in every single demographic.”

“What’s to stop us from killing each other after Edgar is out of the picture,” you said.

“You’re strong enough to kill me. But your little boyfriend can’t fly. You come after me, I’ll drop him in the ocean. Leave me alone, I leave you two alone and we all win,” said Homelander. “Deal?”

“What do you think?” you asked Dean.

“Lesser of two evils. I think,” said Dean. “I say we give it a chance to see if we can get Edgar out.”

“Fine. We can discuss this more tomorrow. Oh and Homelander. I ever catch you in my or Dean’s apartment again, I’ll snap your neck. Deal or no deal.”

“If you were only a little more twisted we could have had something,” he said. He nodded and left, Dean letting out a deep breath when he was gone.

“Y/N,” said Dean. You hummed, wrapping your arms around him. “Thanks. For catching me earlier.”

“I’m sure you would have been fine.”

“Probably but I don’t want to test that theory out. If he dropped me in the ocean...I still need to breathe. We have to play nice.”

“We will. Until we don’t have to,” you said. He smirked, kissing your lips. “He tried to kill you. Now I hate him even more. As soon as we can, he’s gone.”

“That’s my girl,” he grinned.

“Yes I am and you, you’re my Soldier Boy. We’re going to own this place, very, very soon.”

“Damn straight we are sweetheart. Just a little bit longer and then we can do whatever we want to. Promise.”

_________

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